The Littlest Warrior

The Littlest Warrior

Author: RavensWing

Copyright © RavensWing Enterprises Inc., 2002 – 2009. 2010 All rights reserved

Summary: Saruman has created an evil power that feeds on the life force of its victims, leaving behind a withered lifeless shell. His purpose is to find Isildur’s heir and rid Sauron of his biggest threat. The entity’s true form can be “sensed” by those who possess true innocence, animals, the very young and the truly ancient. Can this threat to Estel be stopped? Or will the hope of mankind be lost to the darkness?

Genre: AU

Disclaimer: I make no profit from my efforts and with the exception of my original characters and plotlines, the rest belongs to the Tolkien Estate, I don’t make a dime from this story it’s just for fun, so don’t sue me because I don’t have any and you won’t get any, Smooches!

OC’s: There are lots of OC’s, but don’t worry, they won’t all be thrown at you at one time. You’ll get to know some of them well, others just in passing. But since it’s important to distinguish what is yours and what is Tolkien’s, here they are:


Barandir, Berach, Beregnas, Braneth, Brithil, Canúmion, Celebros, Cilinwë, Círfin, Colwandë, Daenir, Ecthíras, Elwaith, Fael, Filbor, Findol, Filgail, Gaer-âr, Gaer-sûl, Geleph, Golros, Gundars, Gwaenir, Hedrían, Hendil, Heson, Hírómë, Ianthir, Illarion, Imril, Indórië, Ingorn, Ivalor, Laelas, Lethros, Maeraen, Malrin, Menwen, Mindor, Moldórë, Nénilya, Nínas, Olmarth, Panír, Pengûr, Perwaen, Rilloth, Sereth, Silmo, Sûl-linnon, Swiftwing, Tárion, Thorodir, Timagol, Udalin, Vindil, and the Timmons family; Henry, Gideon, Marcus, Greta and Miriam.

Acknowledgements: The concept of Estel’s ‘Sunshine Blankey’ has been graciously loaned to me by Ithil-Valon, I promise to return it cleaned, folded, and carrying just a little more love. And last but not least to my friend, TPDLady a.k.a. SiriusBlackFan2, thank you for your invaluable insight into the minds of little ones.


The morning mist drifted slowly over the grounds of Imladris, the rays of Anor were barely visible over the eastern horizon, and a pair of silver gray eyes were trying to open, still fighting off the grasp of a peaceful dream filled sleep. Estel Elrondion yawned and stretched his almost four-year-old frame to its full length. Blinking sleepily the small boy rolled over onto his tummy and buried his little face into a down-filled pillow. He lay there for a moment, eyes closed, trying to go back to sleep; and then he remembered. “The horsey!” Today was the day his best friend had promised to let him ride his horse. Estel quickly scooched up onto all fours and threw off his blankets. Crawling to the edge of the bed, he eased himself down to the floor; no easy task for one so short who slept in a bed so high. Taking a hasty look out his balcony doors, he could just see the sun’s rays beginning to peek over the tops of the trees. The child jumped up and down clapping his hands in delight; it was indeed morning, and now he could claim his prize. The promise had been made the night before at the dinner table, as Estel sat pouting in front of a plate, which seemed to him to be over filled with vegetables.


“But I no want any more Ada!” He said stubbornly. Elrond, though usually inclined to let the little one have his way, was determined that this was not a battle that was going to be lost.

“Estel, you have been leaving your vegetables on your plate every night. As much as I know you would like to subsist on sliced fruit and sweet cakes, you cannot. You need to eat your vegetables so that you will be healthy, so that you can grow as tall as your brothers, do you not wish to be as tall as your brothers some day?”

Estel pondered this for a moment, true, he adored his brothers; and wanted to be just like them, but the thought of consuming so much as another mouthful of cabbage to accomplish that feat was not even remotely enticing.

”I already a big boy,” he declared in broken Elvish, “even Or’findel said so…right Glorfy?” he said turning to his idol for support.

“Glorfy tells me alllll the time, I a big boy, I no need nasty cabbage. Tell Ada Glorfy, tell Ada I a big boy!”

Elrond’s right eyebrow almost disappeared into his hairline as he turned to address the Balrog slayer. “Yes Glorfy, by all means, please ‘tell’ me,” he stated, his agitation still carefully concealed from Estel. The look that passed between the twins clearly indicated that they were overwhelmingly glad they were not in their tutor’s highly polished boots at this moment.

“Estel” Glorfindel pleaded, “Your Ada is right, it is very important that you eat all your vegetables…you want to be a warrior some day, do you not? That means that you will have to train very hard and have all your strength…and that can only happen if you eat all your vegetables…like all the other warriors, besides cook went to a lot of trouble to make a lovely meal for all of us, you would not wish to hurt her feelings by sending your plate back to the kitchens untouched would you?”

Estel’s pout continued, he was not convinced…and said as much.

“El’dan didin eat all his vegetables and he is a warrior,” he thought about it for a second more and then added, “Roh too,” motioning with his head in the direction of the younger twin.

Elrohir tried to help Glorfindel out of the hole he was digging for himself by adding his admonition…

“But we will, will we not ‘Dan?”

“Yes,” Elladan piped in quickly, “we just have not finished yet, as a matter of fact, Roh, please pass me the cabbage, I have a heavy training session tomorrow with sword master Cilinwë, I must keep my strength up if I do not want him to best me again.”

Estel looked on intently as Elladan took another portion of the detestable green mixture from the salver, and eyed both brothers warily as they proceeded to empty their plates.

“There now…,” Glorfindel continued, “see, both your brothers are cleaning their plates, I am sure that Master Cilinwë will not stand a chance against you tomorrow Elladan. Now, what about you Estel? Are you going to be a strong warrior too, and finish your dinner?”

Estel was unmoved by the display of solidarity, he wasn’t quite four, but he was smart enough to know when he was being led down a path he didn’t wish to take, He sat stone-faced, glaring at the ever-cooling plate of greenery in front of him. Though small, Estel was not without weapons of his own, and proceeded to avail himself of his arsenal’s best. Tears. The long lashed big silver eyes brimmed with unshed tears and the pout had begun to look like a permanent fixture on his face.

“Estel…,” Elrond admonished, a warning glint in his eye, “it will do you no good to try those tears on me this eve.”

“Come on little brother,” Elrohir cut in, “it is not so bad…cook added plenty of spices to it this time, it is actually quite good,” he said as he moved another forkful to his lips.

Estel lowered his head, lip extended as far as his face would allow, and mounted his attack. With his little fists rubbing at his eyes and the silent cry of defeat trying to escape his lips, the waterworks began. The sight was quite undoing for Elrond; he wanted the child to comply, but not at the cost of frustrated tears, and Estel was indeed frustrated. Elrond had raised enough children in his time, both his own, and those of others, to know when a little one felt bullied and cornered…and he didn’t want Estel to feel as if he did not have a say in something as simple as his meals. The great elf Lord was just about to capitulate, when he was once again saved by the quick thinking of his Commander-of-Arms.

“Oh dear,” Glorfindel muttered softly, “whatever will I tell Asfaloth?” he hung his head despairingly, while surreptitiously peeking at Estel from the corner of his eye.

“He will be ever so disappointed. I promised him that I would let a new warrior ride him tomorrow. I had hoped it would be you Estel, but I cannot allow someone who has not eaten his vegetables to ride him…he would not have the strength to control him…now I will have to break my promise and Asfaloth will be very upset with me.”

“Glor-fin-del…you-will-spoil-him,” came Erestor’s whispered singsong warning, but it was too late; at the sound of Asfaloth’s name Estel’s silent crying came to an immediate halt.

“Affaloff?” The child questioned tearily.

“Yes,” Glorfindel continued, “he was sooo looking forward to trying another rider tomorrow…he gets tired of me from time to time…complains that I do not know how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun Glorfy.”

“Oh yes, I know you do Estel, that is why I suggested it to Asfaloth…that you ride him tomorrow I mean…he is going to be very disappointed, and I fear… very upset with me.”

This time it was Estel who came undone. The mere thought of Asfaloth being angry with Glorfindel was inconceivable to him. Why the two were almost like Elladan and Elrohir, inseparable like brothers…except that Asfaloth slept in the stables, of course. The idea that he would be the cause of a quarrel between the two was unthinkable.

“Affaloff was gonna let me ride em?” the child asked incredulously; after all, clarification was necessary in situations like this…one could never be too careful when dealing with grown-ups.

Glorfindel gave a fleeting thought to the white lie he was about to tell and decided it was worth it if it got the child back on track, so he continued with his version of the truth. “Oh yes…he was quite looking forward to it actually.”

Estel sat quietly for a moment, taking in this new information…then just as abruptly he turned to his father, pushing his plate across the table and said…

“Ada…I no want Affaloff to be mad…could you make this warm for me?”

“Of course ion nín,” he said as he tried to hold back the smile that threatened to erupt over his otherwise dignified countenance. “I would be happy too.” Elrond raised his hand to summon one of the servers to take Estel’s plate, and was unceremoniously interrupted by the little tyke.

“No Ada…” Estel admonished, “you said you would do it, I want you to do it Ada…cook makes it too hot.”

The elf Lord was taken aback by the insistence of the smallest Elrondion and gave him an assessing glance. Finding no petulance in Estel’s objection, he slowly pushed his chair back from the table and reached for Estel’s plate.

“You did agree to do it Ada,” Elrohir chimed in, trying to keep a straight face while hiding the smirk that was building on his lips.

“So I did…so I did,” the elf Lord said calmly. Though he spoke softly, he fairly glared at Elrohir, almost daring him to say so much as one - more - word. The look passed over to Elladan, silencing him just as he was set to make a comment. They had seen that look before, and knew all too well that another jest at their father’s expense was probably not a good idea. Tonight’s dinner had been difficult enough; Elrond did not need the twins compounding it by egging Estel on. As Elrond took the plate from Estel he watched in wonder as his littlest son turned to Glorfindel and graced him with a silly grin.

“I be a warrior…just like you Glorfy,” then proudly, puffing out his little chest towards his brothers he announced, as if it was the biggest accomplishment in Arda, “I gonna ride Affaloff… nobody rides Affaloff but Or’findel…and me!”

His brothers exchanged knowing smiles and congratulated the little one on accomplishing such a coup. It was not every day that someone other than Glorfindel got to sit the powerful white stallion. In fact, no one other than Glorfindel ever rode the powerful beast…Asfaloth, loyal to a fault, simply would not allow it. The twins wondered now, how the Balrog slayer would get the horse to acquiesce; “Yes,” they thought, this would be very interesting indeed.

Their heads turned as their father returned to the table carrying Estel’s warmed up cabbage.

“T’sank you, Ada.”

“You are welcome ion nín, I expect you to...” but before Elrond could finish his sentence Estel virtually assaulted the plate of greens. With his spoon in one hand and using the fingers of the other, he stuffed his mouth with as much cabbage as it would hold. The sight of the child with his cheeks puffed out like those of a chipmunk brought giggles, and out and out laughter from those seated at the table.

“Estel!” Elrond exclaimed, “Not so much at one time son, the cabbage will not run away from you, take smaller bites ion nín or you will choke yourself.”

“Yes.” Erestor added, “If you eat too quickly you will give yourself the hiccups tithen pen, (little one) and where are your table manners? We practiced, remember? We do not eat with our fingers.”

Estel lowered his head and looked apologetically at his tutor; there was something about the dark-eyed Noldo that made Estel always strive to please him.

“I sorry ‘Westor, I forgot, no fingas.” Estel promptly placed the cabbage in his spoon back on his plate, took his fingers from his mouth and not seeing his napkin, wiped his hand across the front of his already food-soiled tunic. Erestor rolled his eyes skyward and mouthed a small prayer to the Valar.

“See,” Estel held up his ‘supposedly’ clean fingers for Erestor’s approval.

“Very good tithen pen.”

“Ima good boy, right ‘Westor?”

“Yes, tithen meleth nín, (my little love) you are a very good boy…but next time we will use our napkin all right?”

Estel vigorously nodded his agreement, “An I will not wrap you any more…m’kay?”

Erestor’s cheeks blushed furiously, and he quickly tried to change the subject, unfortunately his flush did not go unnoticed by Glorfindel, and the golden warrior was quick to inquire.

“What do you mean Estel, how do you ‘Wrap’ Erestor?”

Estel was all grins and giggles, “’Westor says I wrap him on my fingas,” he said holding the somewhat clean hand up for display, wiggling his pinky finger in the air, still trying for himself to figure out what Erestor meant. “But I do not ‘member doin’ it…but ‘Westor says I do an he cannot work when I do…so I should not do it…right ‘Westor?”

Seeing the counselor’s obvious embarrassment, the commander pressed on…

“So…Estel, tell us little one…what happens when you ‘wrap’ Erestor?”

Estel ducked his head shyly, and tried to hide his toothy grin with both little hands, then he raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders in a bid to illustrate.

“No more lessons,” he said cheerily, “den me an ‘Westor go outside…in da garden.”

“Ahh…and pray, tell us ion nín, what do you do in the garden?” Elrond asked conspiratorially.

“We play tag, ’Westor is the best tag player in all ‘ladris…right ‘Westor?”

Erestor calmly cleared his throat, and attempted to reclaim his dignity.

“What? he asked haughtily, “as if he has not gotten any of you to play tag with him, humnp!”

The image of the always dignified, and sometimes standoffish Erestor playing tag with a three-year-old was more than Glorfindel could handle, and he found himself doubled over in the throes of laughter. Even the sedate and serious Elrond found he could not keep the smile from his face.

“Tag? Erestor plays tag with you in the garden?”

“Yeth Ada…and sometimes he sings!”

“Sings…?” quipped Glorfindel, eyes wide with amazement, “oh this is just too good to be true,” he said nearly laughing himself off his seat.

“Mm-hum, sometimes I get sweepy, an ‘Westor sings to me.”

“Really now?” chimed in Elladan.

“Mm-hum, an when I don wanna go my room ‘Westor lets me throw all his pillows on the floor and have my nap in his room.”

“Well now,” Elrond continued, “that is very nice of Erestor, and did you thank him for singing to you?”

Estel thought for a moment, and then wiggled down off his chair and ran as quickly as his short little legs would take him around to the other side of the table. Grabbing Erestor by his sleeve he pulled the counselor down to his level and threw his chubby little arms around the counselor’s neck. Giving Erestor a mighty hug he kissed the counselor on his cheek saying…

“T’sank you ‘Westor, for singing to me…I like your songs.”

So touched was he by the child’s unabashed affection the staid counselor almost broke into tears right then and there, but managed to hold his composure as he squeezed the little one back.

“You are most welcome Melyanna, (dear gift) most welcome.”

Estel scrambled back to his seat and took up his spoon once again. “See Glorfy,” he said “Ima eat allll my cabbage.” The little one tried to eat without spilling or stuffing, and finally succeeded in emptying his plate. By the time he’d finished; the table, the floor, the chair he was seated on (and the one next to him) were fairly coated with cabbage, and or its accompanying liquid. His mouth was ringed with cabbage juice, his hands were wet and sticky, his tunic was filthy, and from where Elrond sat he detected at least two pieces of the offending vegetable in the child’s hair. Still, Estel managed to get a goodly portion of it inside, and upon completing his task – gave those seated at the table a toothy grin and held up his plate for Glorfindel’s inspection.

“See Glorfy…all gone.”

”Well Done Estel!” Glorfindel fairly beamed at the child, and winking at his ‘vegetable co-conspirators’ he remarked, “Asfaloth will be most pleased. Thank you Estel…I must say I was not looking forward to facing Asfaloth with a broken promise…he can be…somewhat cranky when disappointed.”

Estel sat there beaming, he had saved Glorfindel from having to face an angry, cranky Asfaloth—and he could not have been prouder of himself.

“You welcome Glorfy,” the child giggled. Elrond had to admit it had been an ingenious piece of motivating. He was not sure how Glorfindel was going to get Asfaloth to go along with it; but that was Glorfindel’s problem. He had promised Estel a ride and the elf Lord now gave his friend a look that said, “You better make good on this.” Rising from the table he stretched out his hand and called Estel to him.

“Come along son, we had better get you cleaned up and ready for bed.”

“Do I hafta go to bed nowww Ada?” Estel whined.

“Not right away…I may let you stay up for a bit to hear some of the songs this eve in the Hall of Fire—but after that you must go straight away to bed—with no argument, understand? After all…you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow—you have lessons with Master Erestor, story time with Lore Master Canúmion, you must take your nap on time…with no fussing—and then, and only then you may go with Lord Glorfindel to the stables for your ride. Understood?”

Estel nodded vigorously, “Mm’kay Ada.. I be good…I pwamice.”

“That is ‘promise’ Estel…’promise’, the Elf Lord corrected.

“Das what I said Ada…pwamice!”

Elrond could only shake his head and smile. He would have to remember to speak to Erestor about correcting Estel’s speech patterns more often. While trying to master both Elvish and Westron he was failing to enunciate either language properly and it was causing him to develop a lisp.

Estel bounced up and down on his toes eager, for a change, to get to his bath so that he could get to the Hall of Fire. Grabbing his foster father’s hand he tugged insistently and all but dragged Elrond from the dining room.

“Come on Ada… I hafta do my bubbles so I can hear da songs.”

“All right ion nín , I am coming.” Turning slowly he glanced at Glorfindel and made eye contact

“Glorfindel….you will hold to your word and come for Estel tomorrow after his nap, correct?”

“Yes my Lord…as soon as he awakes.”

“Very well then…I will see all of you later in the Hall. Come Estel, let us see if we cannot—divest—you of some of your…dinner.”

“Whas di—di—”

“Divest?”

“Yeth, that—whas that Ada?”

“I will explain it on the way to your room little one…come.”

Taking the child’s hand Elrond smiled down at his boy…so curious—so full of life—so filled with promise and hope. His name truly reflected who he was and whom he would one day become—the hope of all.