R/I - "Du bist wie ein Sohn für mich"

[m-chris-h.livejournal.com]

Team: Kobold

Challenge: R/I – „Du bist wie ein Sohn für mich“ (für mich)

Fandom: Herr der Ringe

Charaktere: Elrond, Estel (Aragorn)

Sprache: Englisch

Wörter: 422

Elrond sighed in relief. The meeting of the White Council was finally over, even if the matter of the Necromancer remained open. At least the dwarrow had left, so there was no need to attempt to negotiate between Thorin Oakenshield and the White Council. Now he could finally get some rest.

His steps slowed when he heard muffled sobs. He still yearned for an early night, but he also felt a responsibility for whoever was in distress, so he followed the sound.

The sound let him to the room, where he kept mementos of the previous ages, the shards of Narsil, old Numenorian armour and daggers from his youth. He stopped, surprised, when he recognized the one crying. “Estel?”

Big blue eyes darted up to him, then dropped again. “Ad- Lord Elrond.”

Elrond frowned. Since when was he so formal with him? He knew to expect that at some point he would stop calling him ‘adar’, but this? He crouched down in front of him. “What is the matter, Estel?” He reached out his hand to dry his tears, but Estel flinched back.

Estel struggled to gather himself, then asked: “W...when will I need to leave?”

“Leave? Where to?”

Estel’s lips trembled. “I don’t know.”

“Then why would you need to leave?”

“Because you’re throwing me out.” Estel’s voice broke.

“Pardon?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Estel, where did you get the idea that I’m throwing you out?”

“I... I overheard them. I wasn’t try to eavesdrop, I swear. They talked about you throwing out the cursed line of Durin and how...how surely you’ll now also throw out...me.” His voice had dropped lower and lower towards the end, until it was barely audible whispers.

Elrond was struck speechless. He’d had no idea that some of his people held such animosity for his ward. “Estel, I promise, they were lying. I am not sending you away.” Estel glanced up at him carefully. Damn Mithrandir and his decision to present him with a mirror of his own cursed family line with no warning! “You’re like a son to me and you will always have a home here.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Estel throw himself forward with a sob and he gathered him in his arms, letting him cry his hurt out. His gaze fell on the chest Estel had huddled beside, on the eight-rayed silver star on it, the chest he had received from his own foster fathers all those years ago. Perhaps he should wear his older armour when fighting the Necromancer...