228Tilt. . . Tilt. . . Roll. . . CRASH!
Estel winced as the porcelain vase crashed ungraciously to the floor. Opening his eyes warily, his eyes willed up with helpless tears.
'Ada is going to be so angry,' He thought, looked at the shattered pieces around him. 'This is the second time in only three days!'
Kneeling down, the seven-year-old boy ignored the pain of the broken shards digging into his knees. Carefully, he began to pick up some of the many pieces. Even though he knew it was hopeless, Estel prayed that nobody had heard.
But he knew they had. Being human among elves, he was well aware of the incredible hearing they had. 'I'm just a clumsy human!' Estel thought bitterly, wishing for the hundredth time that he was an elf.
Estel had come to live in Rivendell when he was only two, after his parents were killed. His Foster Father, Lord Elrond, raised him. He also had two elven Foster brothers, Elladan and Elrohir. He loved his family very much, and hated disappointing them in anyway.
One tear escaped Estel's unwilling eyes, which he wiped away angrily.
'I'm NOT a crybaby. I won't cry! I Won't!'
But Estel felt his heart ache as he thought of his family's reactions, and the frustration they were bound to show. He was constantly dropping things, breaking them, and making too much noise. He wasn't blessed with the elegant grace of the elves, or their beauty, nimbleness, and skill.
He couldn't arch worth his life, and when he rode a horse he was ungraceful. Though he was good with a sword, he wasn't wonderful, and was much slower than any elfling. He was loud and scared away any animals worth hunting and his human vision kept him from tracking like the others.
Estel's mind wandered to an incident not far back. . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Estel squinted in the bright sunlight, pulling back his arrow as he had been taught. Trying he hardest to aim well, Estel let go, sending the arrow soaring.
Estel, Elladan, and Elrohir watched as the arrow flew several inches wide and high of the target.
The boy lowered his head in shame as Elladan let out an oath.
"By Valar, Estel!" The older twin cried, frustrated. "We've tried this a hundred times! Can't you do ANYTHING right?!"
Estel felt tears prick his eyes, keeping them focused on the ground in between his feet.
Elladan immediately regretted his words, but the damage was done.
"Estel, I'm sorry-" But the boy shook his head adamantly. "No, it's my fault. I can't do anything right. I-I'm sorry." Without another word the boy turned and ran. . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Estel was brought out of his sorrowful thoughts with a flash of pain. Startled, the boy looked down at his hand. In his carelessness, he had sliced open his index finger, and it was now bleeding rather heavily. Grasping it, trying to staunch the flow of blood, the boy hastily stood up.
Unfortunately, Estel lost his balance, and in his desperation to retrieve it again, he found himself stepping painfully onto the broken pieces of vase.
Throwing himself ungraciously out of harms way, Estel sat holding his injured finger and trying to see how much damage he had done to his bare feet. Tears of physical pain filled his eyes this time.
'Of course this would happen to me.' He thought, glaring at the broken shards of porcelain littering the floor.
Estel suddenly heard approaching footsteps. Eyes wide, the boy started to rise, only to fall back down when his cut feet protested. He had been expecting someone to hear, hadn't he? The boy stared at the door, resigned.
Estel quickly looked away when he saw his brother, Elrohir, stick his head in the door.
"Estel?" The elf called out, before seeing the small boy and the broken vase. With a half sigh, half oath, the elf entered all the way, tiptoeing careful around the debris.
"What happened now?" He said, keeping his cool, even though inside he could feel irritation start to bubble. Estel looked at his blood stained hands, swallowing hard, before saying softly, "I-I tripped and ran i-into the table."
Elrohir barely kept from rolling his eyes. Estel was constantly tripping and running into things. "Are you all right?" He asked, concern creeping into his eyes. Estel shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Estel?" He pressed, crouching in front of the seven-year-old.
Estel hesitantly held out his injured hand. Elrohir let out a hiss of sympathy. The cut was obviously deep, and would probably need stitching.
"Anything else?" the elf inquired, giving Estel a once over, looking for any other obvious injuries.
"My feet." The boy said reluctantly, as though he thought he would be punished for injuring his feet. Elrohir gently lifted the boy's small feet and grimaced. Though not as deep as the other cut, these looked nasty.
Wincing in sympathy, Elrohir lifted Estel into his arms and stood. "Come. We must show these to Ada." Estel's eyes widened in fear. "B-But why? Can't you take care of 'em?" He asked desperately, not wanting anyone else to find out what had happened.
Elrohir shook his head, understanding where the boy was coming from.
"Sorry. But that cut on your finger is too serious to ignore. Ada might have to stitch it." Estel looked up at the elf, puzzled. "What do you mean? What is 'stitching' it?" Elrohir opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it. He didn't want to scare Estel, or make him nervous.
Realizing Elrohir wasn't going to answer, Estel felt a twitch of nervousness. 'Nothing to be worried about.' He said to himself, hoping that it was the truth. But he couldn't help the shiver of trepidation when they reached Elrond's door.
Elrond looked up from his work at a soft knock on the door. "You may enter." He called out. The elven lord was surprised when he saw his youngest in the arms of Elrohir. Up in a flash, he walked over to them.
"What happened?" He demanded, noting that there was blood on Estel's tunic. Elrohir shifted slightly. "Well. . . Estel here had a little incident."
The way Elrohir said it had Elrond raising one eyebrow. "What was this 'little incident'?" He inquired. Turning his gaze to the little boy, who was staring at hime nervously, but not speaking.
"He, er, broke a vase."
Elrond looked at his sons in surprise. "Another one? Already?" Estel flushed, looked down at his hands. Elrohir nodded sadly. "Yes, another one. But it wasn't a nice one. Just the blue ceramic one in the library."
Elrond nodded, vaguely remembering the piece, and relieved that it wasn't something more rare. "Is that all?"
Elrohir cleared his throat, glad that was over with. He had been worried that his father would have been angry. "He cut his finger, and his feet, as a result of the incident. The one on his finger looks pretty deep."
Switching from exasperation to concern, Elrond looked at Estel's feet and grimaced. After a moment he took the boys hand and barely kept back a sigh.
"I will have to stitch it." He said softly, as if to himself. Estel paled and Elrohir winced in sympathy. "Take him to his room Elrohir. I will be there momentarily." Running a comforting hand over his youngest son's hair, he turned as they left.
"Oh, Estel." He muttered after they were gone. "Only you. . ."
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There ya go! The first chapter! ( I hope you like it, and I will try my hardest to update soon. If you are also a Harry Potter fan, check out my other story, Stepping Sideways. Also, if you know how to make italics and bold in , could oyu tell me? Many thanks! Please review!
~BabeyRachey