Can You Hear Me?

Can You Hear Me?

Disclaimer: All references to Middle-Earth belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.  I am only borrowing them to satisfy my crazy imagination.  The song

“Can You Hear Me?” belongs to Mark Schultz. I intend no infringement on anyone’s work; full credit is given to the owners of these works!



Author’s Notes: This is my first attempt at a LotR fic.  Please don’t flame me if I totally screw up

something like spelling, or place names or something!  Reviews are much appreciated!  Also, some lyrics to the song were left out

because I couldn’t make them fit in the context of the story.  Sorry if I am messing up on someone’s

favorite song!



Also I am operating under Cassia and Sio’s interpretation

about how Aragorn was raised as Elrond’s son, with Elladan and Elrohir as his

brothers.



Feedback:  Yes

please!  phoenixqueen101@yahoo.com



Summary: A young Aragorn gets very sick after arriving at

Rivendell and Elrond sits up with him one night.



Italics are song

lyrics



/…/ are private thoughts



 



Soft, gentle moonlight shone through the open window of the

large bedroom in the house of Lord Elrond, Master of Rivendell.  A small fire crackled cheerfully on the

hearth, its flickering light adding to the shadows inside the room.



Elrond sat in a large stuffed armchair next to the bed,

watching over the tiny occupant of the large bed.  His adopted human son, Estel, also known as

Aragorn, lay wrapped snugly under the thick covers, tossing and turning in the

grips of a terrible fever.  Nothing that

the elf lord had tried had worked to break the fever, and all he could do was watch

his son as he struggled while the illness ran its course.



/Iluvitar help me. / the elf prayed silently.  He was extremely worried about Estel.  In the short time that the tiny child had

been in Rivendell, he had managed to work himself firmly into the elder elf’s

heart, simply by being present in the house. 

It had been many, many years since there had been children in the house,

and Estel had brought the house back to life again.



/Please, help him. 

Help him fight this illness. /  It

tore at Elrond’s heart to see Estel like this. 

The elf lord was a Master Healer, and to be unable to help his son now

was tearing him apart slowly.  He had

done everything that he could think of to help the boy, and he hated to admit

defeat, but the situation had almost pushed him to that point.  The only thing left that he could think of

was asking Iluvitar to help Aragorn.



I’m down on my knees again tonight

Hoping this prayer will turn out right

See, there’s a boy who needs your help

I’ve done all that I can do myself

I’m sure that you can understand.



The boy had become so special to Elrond, the same way that

his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir were. 

The twins were of course much older than Aragorn, but even they had

fallen for the adorable child, readily adopting the five year old as a younger

brother.



Elrond almost couldn’t remember what life had been like

before Aragorn had entered their lives. 

Ever since the child had been brought to Rivendell by Elladan, the boy

had done everything he could to get to know his new family, often creating some

hilarious moments between him and the twins.



All of this flashed through Elrond’s mind as he watched his

son.  He was hurting for Aragorn; he was

powerless to help the child right now. 

What was he going to do? He would willingly take Estel’s place if he

could, but elves couldn’t get sick, unless it was through poison or injury, but

that wasn’t the same thing.



Can you hear me?

Am I getting through tonight?

Can you see him?

Can you make him feel alright?

If you can hear me,

Let me take his place somehow

See he’s not just anyone

He’s my son.



The firelight flickered slightly, and Elrond took his

attention off of Estel long enough to see that the fire was beginning to

die.  He released Estel’s hand and went

to the fireplace to place another log on. 

As the fire began to consume this new addition, Elrond retook his seat

next to Estel’s bed, once again holding the boy’s hand lightly in his own as he

checked the child’s temperature.  The

fever still had not broken.



Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep

I dream of the boy he’d like to be

I try to be strong and see him through

But God who he needs right now is you



Elrond often found himself wondering what Estel would be

like when he had grown.  Would he take

the throne of Gondor that was rightfully his, as the Heir of Isildur?  Or would he choose to do something else with

his life that would be equally satisfying to him?  It was hard to say at this time, when Estel

was still so little and carefree.



Suddenly, Aragorn began to whimper as a nightmare took him

in the grips of the fever, where he couldn’t escape it.  Elrond was brought back out of his musings

with a jerk, as Estel began crying deliriously, in the common tongue.  “Father? 

No, no not father?  Please no,

no…”



Elrond gently attempted to shake his son awake, trying to

release him from the nightmare’s hold. 

The fever still clung to the child, but he woke anyway, with a small

cry.  “Father!”  His eyes were glazed with the fever and his

face was flushed an alarming shade of pink.



“Estel, shhh.  I’m

here.  There is nothing to be afraid of,

I am right here.”  Elrond said

soothingly, in the grey tongue.  Estel

understood elvish better than he could speak it at this point, but he was

learning rapidly.  That was another

endearing quality about the boy; he was an extremely fast learner for his age.



Let him grow old

Live life without this fear



Aragorn relaxed slightly as he picked up the sounds of

Elrond’s voice.  Elrond was still

concerned about the fever, but right now he needed to get Estel calmed down,

less he inadvertently hurt himself, thrashing under the blankets.



Elladan and Elrohir, woken by their brother’s cries, entered

the room rubbing bleary eyes.  At the

same time they were both concerned about Estel. 

They loved him dearly and were extremely protective of the human.



“Father? What’s wrong with Estel?”  Elladan asked as he saw his father gently

holding the sick human close to him.  The

twins knew Estel was sick but they had assumed that Elrond’s skills would be

more than enough to fight the illness. 

Elrohir came over and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out and

gently claiming Estel’s free hand.



“I have been unable to get his fever to break and he has had

another nightmare.”  Elrond replied with

a sigh.  Estel had been having nightmares

regularly since his arrival, and every time after he had one, he sought out

Elrond or one of the twins for comfort. 

He never told them what the nightmares were about, but Elrond was

willing to bet that they had something to do with the death of his birth mother

and father.



“Why won’t his fever break, Father?”  Elrohir asked as he looked at his adopted

brother.  Estel was a lot of fun to be

around.  Even at this young age, he had a

penchant or a talent for constantly being able to surprise his brothers.



“I don’t know why, Elrohir. 

It won’t respond to cool water, any fever-reducing herbs, or

athelas.”  Elrond said softly.  A faint hint of the powerful healing plant’s

sweet scent still lingered on the air, which showed how desperate Elrond had

gotten.  The plant was usually only used

to drive back poisons, or to bring back someone whose spirit seemed to have

fled.  Elrond had had little need to use

the plant in the last several thousand years, simply because there hadn’t been

anything that a lesser herb couldn’t handle.



Elladan and Elrohir, who were both getting training in the

healing arts from their father, knew very well about the potency of the

plant.  If athelas couldn’t drive back

Aragorn’s fever, what could?  Both of

them showed signs of alarm now.  Elrohir

voiced a dreadful thought, his voice slightly muted in caution and fright.  “We’re…not going to lose him, are we,

Father?”



What would I be living without him here?



“No!”  Elladan

protested before Elrond had a chance to answer. 

Elrond knew that the elder of the two twins had appointed himself

Estel’s protector, out of guilt for the fact that he had been unable to save

Arathorn and his wife, Estel’s birth family.



“No, Elrohir.  His

illness is not that severe, but it appears that the only thing we can do is to

wait and let the illness run its course naturally and see what happens.”  Elrond said softly, glancing back down at Estel,

who had fallen back into a feverish slumber while they spoke, lulled by the

soft voices.



Before he could continue, however, Elrond caught a faint

whiff of something coming through the open window of Estel’s room.  It was a warm, breezy spring night, and the

breeze had blown several scents into the room in the course of the night.  He felt Aragorn relax in his arms, and as he

looked again, he noted that the boy seemed to be breathing a little easier as

he too caught a whiff of the scent.



Elladan and Elrohir were surprised at the suddenly positive

look they saw on Elrond’s face at that moment. 

Elrond quickly gestured to Elrohir, who still held Estel’s hand.  “Elrohir, hold your brother for a

moment.  Elladan, go get me a fresh bowl

of water and a clean cloth.  I have to

get something that just might help.”



The twins obeyed as Elrond swiftly left the room.  Both twins exchanged puzzled looks as they

silently wondered what idea their father had come up with.  A few moments later, Elrond returned with a pale

green plant in his hand.



/Iluvitar let this work, please. /  Elrond thought as he shredded the plant in

his hand into small pieces and dropped them into the bowl of water that Elladan

had placed on the table next to the bed. 

He took the cloth and mixed them together, releasing the sharp, clean

scent of mint into the air.  Both twins

smelled it too, and their questioning gazes met their father’s eyes.



Elrond didn’t take any time to explain his idea to his

sons.  He gently took Estel back from

Elrohir and laid the small child flat on the head.  Taking the herb-scented cloth, he wiped it

gently over Estel’s head and neck.  As

Estel breathed the sharp scent in, his breathing eased more.  The mint was clearing up the congestion that

had been giving him trouble breathing.



As he continued to bathe Estel’s head, the cool water

finally took hold, and the child’s fever eased, and his breathing eased still

more.  Finally, Estel opened his

eyes.  They were no longer fevered and

delirious, but lucid and sleepy.  His soft

voice was music to Elrond’s ears. 

“Father?”



“Estel, thank Iluvitar.” 

Elrond replied in the common tongue, to make it easier for the sleepy

child to follow his words.  “We were all

worried about you.  Are you feeling any

better?”



Aragorn blinked, and slowly nodded.  “Still tired. 

And…” he trailed off, not finishing whatever he was about to say.



“What, Estel?  Does it

have anything to do with the nightmare you had?”  Elrond asked gently.  “Or is something else wrong?”



“Nightmare.”  Estel

answered.  Now his eyes showed his fear,

and Elrond smiled to relieve that fear.



“Do you want to tell us about it?  We want to help you Estel.”



The boy nodded his head slowly.  In slightly slurred words, he related his

nightmare to the three elves.  “I was in the

for’st with a man who looked like me.  He

was playing wi’ me and then I saw a big dark behind him.  Then, he suddenly just stopped playing, and

fell over with his eyes open.  The dark

got bigg’r and did the same th’ng to a pretty lady that was there too.  The dark turned to me and got me too, I not

able to get ‘way.”  The little boy’s eyes

were wide with fright as he told his tale.



He’s so tired

And he’s scared

Let him know that you’re there



Elladan and Elrohir both glanced swiftly at Elrond.  They had been present the day that Arathorn

and his wife had died, had been standing next to them when they were shot with

arrows.  Aragorn had been in camp with

the other members of the hunting party, and when they returned to the camp,

they found it destroyed and looted, the others slain, but Aragorn had been

tucked up under some blankets, spared from the destruction for some strange

reason.  He had not seen his parents

killed, and the twins had never admitted to being there that day.  They tried not to talk about the

circumstances that had brought the child to Rivendell, and had never admitted

that they were the ones who had done so.



Elrond smiled at the little boy.  “Don’t worry about that right now,

Estel.  I am sure that whatever the dark

was, it can’t get you here.  See?  The moon is coming in through the window, and

your fire is going.”  He too didn’t want

to talk to the child about his parents’ deaths yet, and Estel needed more

sleep.  “Go to sleep, Estel.  In the morning, the dream will be all gone

and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.” 

Estel nodded, and gave in to sleep, his eyes sliding shut and he drifted

off.



Elrond rose to his feet and gestured to the twins to leave

the room.  They obeyed, and Elrond softly

closed the door behind him as he too, exited. 

Estel was alright now, and would continue to be alright.



Can you hear me?

Am I getting through tonight?

Can you see him?

Can you make him feel alright?

You can hear me

Let me take his place somehow

See he’s not just anyone

He’s my son



Elrond shooed the twins back to bed, before turning to go

back to his own bed for the remainder of the night.  As he prepared for bed, he paused for a

moment, before bowing his head.  /Thank

you, Iluvitar.  Thank you for hearing me

tonight, and for seeing to my son. /



Finishing his preparations, a weary Elrond laid down on his

own bed, still thanking Iluvitar for hearing his pleas that night.  He would willingly take Estel’s place in

anything, if it became necessary, although the elf lord knew he couldn’t shield

his adopted son forever.  While he had

the chance though, he would spare Estel anytime he could from what life would

throw in the young human’s way.



Can you hear me?

Am I getting through tonight?

Can you see him?

Can you make him feel alright?

You can hear me

Let me take his place somehow

See he’s not just anyone



Can you hear me?

Can you see him?

Please don’t leave him

He’s my son



/He’s my son. / Elrond thought contentedly as he felt

himself drifting off into a light sleep, ready in case Estel would need

anything else in the remainder of the night. 

/You have given me a most wondrous gift in my Estel, Iluvitar. Thank you

and remind me to always treasure Estel, because he’s my son. /