-Heritage-

By: Bill the Pony

Rating: PG(angst)

Feedback: elf_master752@yahoo.com

Spoilers: Shouldn’t be.

Disclaimer: Don’t own them, I’ll leave that to the Tolkien family and whoever. I make no profit either. Money wise that is.

Summary: A conversation between Estel and Legolas after Estel has been told of his heritage. Has been done a million times I reckon, but I decided to do one.

Note: I personally in most of my fics write as if Aragorn knew of his heritage early on in his childhood. This is set as if he was told later on, after he had met Legolas. Kind of improbable, but I got bit by the plot bunny. And again, not all the names in this actually mean something. The one that does that I created is Yondolinde which I believe means "son of song" or something like that. I’m also using the name Estel for Aragorn since it would only make sense if this were how it happened (which I doubt). I mean…he wouldn’t have known that was his name. I am also not a Tolkien scholar, I could never hope to smart enough. So I am sincerely sorry for any inaccuracies. Hope they don’t rub you the wrong way.

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Estel paddled his feet in a shallow pool, derived from the flowing waters of the river. The crystal waters glittered like diamonds in dew frosted grass and the ripples sent out from his movement gave the impression of the gentle breeze waving the young boughs about him. Before him across the river and pool, rose the gradual slope to the foot of the mountains, where fall touched aspens winked from yellow to gold.

But the beauty was lost upon him as his heart strained against the turmoil which threatened to choke him. It seemed in his mind’s eye that the wonder of his surroundings was fading into swirling mists and shadows. He had been raised as a boy with a family of elves as the son of Elrond, now he was told that this was not who he was. The history he had built himself had suddenly crumbled as he found that it was but a happy lie.

Estel bowed his head and buried them in his hands. He wished that he had never been told, that he could have gone on believing that he was but a simple orphan raised in Imladris. Ignorance in this would have been his wish.

---

Yellowed leaves fluttered down from the treetops of Mirkwood. The air was crisp from the combined touch of autumn and morning time. Sun filtered through the canopy, sending rays of gold streaming to shower over the forest floor. The beat of hooves broke the calm.

A messenger, garbed in greens and earthy russets, dark of hair and fine of feature, bent over the arched neck of a mighty bay stallion, raced through the gates of Mirkwood. Three elves turned at his sudden arrival.

"Ai! Yondolinde, you are unexpected!" An elf, of the name Tabenlair, cried in greeting to the rider.

"I have a letter of urgency for the Prince Legolas." Yondolinde leapt nimbly from the horse’s back.

"Surely it can wait till you have regained your breath friend," insisted Tabenlair.

The dark haired messenger shook the other elf off, "Nay, not according to my Lord Elrond. He spoke to bring this to the hands of the prince first."

"Then I will not keep you from your task. I will take you to him." Tabenlair led Yondolinde farther into Mirkwood.

---

Legolas rose from his desk at the sharp rapping on his door. He wondered who would be seeking him at this early hour. Upon opening the door he was greeted by the face of his close friend Tabenlair, a son of a high ranking official to his father, and an elf he recognized from Imladris. "Taben, what are you doing here?" Legolas queried.

The Mirkwood elf gestured to his companion, "I simply escorted Yondolinde here. He had need to speak with you, my prince." Tabenlair smirked and slipped off, leaving Yodolinde and Legolas alone. Legolas looked to Yondolinde in question.

The elf bobbed his head to Legolas in respect, "Prince Legolas, I have brought a message from Lord Elrond." Yondolinde handed the letter off to the elven prince.

Legolas frowned as he took the letter. He had no idea to what it could be pertaining. Neatly scrawled lines filled a small portion of the parchment, the words concise and to the point:

Legolas did not read the letter a second time. Through written word, the letter held an urgency that was uncouth for the calm elven lord.

Thanking the messenger, and insisting that he stay and rest before he returned, Legolas made his way to the stables.

---

Elrohir looked to his slightly older twin, Elladen, as they both watched over their human brother sitting on the banks of the freshwater pool. For two days, Estel had remained apart from them and the entire household of Rivendell. Elrohir had ached since bringing Estel home as a child to protect him from his past. The responsibilities his heritage placed on him. But, as their father had explained in private, they could not protect him forever when Middle-earth would call on him. Yet he could not help but keep his heart from breaking to gather Estel back into the fold. The human had seemed estranged now, once so close and comfortable with the elves.

The house had been silent for the past two days, absent of the laughter which so incessantly rang through the open halls. The whole valley seemed to be hushed. Elrohir could only hope that with the arrival of the elven prince, Estel might be revived.

---

Mane both horse and elven caught in the wind as the powerful horse’s legs devoured the ground in long strides. With haste, horse and rider flew down the narrow road towards the last homely house.

Elf and horse had been traveling for a good two days with short rests, keeping up a brisk pace. Now that they were upon the last stretch, they broke to a gallop.

Legolas’s heart pounded in his chest, fearing that something may have befallen his human friend. Surely, if something so horrible as – he dare not say - had occurred, Elrond would not have left him to guess, and be tormented by imagination. But no comfort was to be had from this thought. His only reassurance would be to see Estel upon his feet and well to greet him.

Ahead, the arch of Rivendell drew closer. Two elves stood inside the courtyard, recognizable as the twins, Elladen and Elrohir. But he saw no sign of Estel.

As he pulled under the arch, he leapt from horse. "What has happened? Tell me, and do not be slow about it!" Legolas demanded urgently, too worried to take time for pleasantries though he knew the twins well.

Elladen pulled Legolas away as a groom led the horse to be cared for, "I will let father explain."

Legolas gripped Elladen by the shoulders tightly, "Elladen! Do not antagonize me! Is Estel all right?"

Elladen gently loosened Legolas’s grasp, "Yes, Estel is physically fine."

The elven archer narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean ‘physically fine’?"

"Wait, all will be explained. Your impatience will only hinder you." The tension was odd between them, as their friendship was strong and this curtness was abnormal to their speech.

It seemed Legolas felt his heart pound faster, as he bit down on his tongue to keep his temper at bay. He followed Elladen to an open room, filled with the warm, natural light of the sun.

Elrond stood on a high veranda that was covered in green twisting vines. The elven lord turned at their arrival. Unnoticed, Elladen backed from the room. "Thank you for your haste, Legolas. I appreciate it more than you know."

Legolas calmed himself enough to at least show courtesy to his elder. "I can do no else when I receive a cryptic letter pertaining to the well being of Estel."

The elder elf, smiled, somewhat sadly, and turned back to the view. He leaned heavily on the railing, "I am sorry for that. I would have explained if not for the delicacy of the matter. I…"

Legolas moved to his side. "Please, tell me first if he is well," he pleaded.

Elrond held up a hand, "Peace, you will know all soon enough. And faster if you rein in your impatience."

"Elladen said as much as well," muttered the younger elf.

Elrond gave a small, appeased smile, "Now did he? Well then, perhaps my words have finally sunk in." This lightened the mood a shade. Elrond began again, "The words I must speak will bring with it alarm at the least, but you must hear me out. I cannot tell you all, but I will bare to you all that I can risk." He fixed the fair-haired elf with a stare which question if he would keep his tongue at bay. At Legolas’s nod, Elrond continued, "Estel, you believe, is an orphan, raised in Imladris after my sons found him in the ruins of a village. Correct?" Legolas nodded again. "There is no diplomatic way to say this, but to put it bluntly, that is a lie."

Legolas opened his mouth, then shut it again, remembering Elrond’s words for patience.

"You know off the legend of Isildur, so I need not explain that. But a little less known, is that Isildur had an heir." A sinking, disbelief built in the pit of Legolas’s stomach. Surely, Estel was not… Elrond saw that understanding filter into Legolas’s dark eyes. "Estel is not his right name, Legolas. He is Aragorn, heir of Isildur and heir to the thrown Gondor."

Silence filled the air, the birds seemed to quiet and the only constant sound was the faint thrum of the waterfall. Legolas’s mind whirled, could this really be? Could his friend truly be a king? "What do I need to do?" He asked numbly, knowing already his need.

"Be his friend, that is all I ask." Elrond looked out over the valley, "It has been two days since he has heard of this." The elven lord seemed to grow weary, as if an unseen weight was placed on his shoulders. "It is my fault that he must be pained as so. If I had told him of this earlier, perhaps it would not have been so hard. But I wished to protect him with ignorance. To let him live with a simple past and a future that was not destined in pain and heartache. I was foolish enough to think I could sway the will of Illuvitar." He sighed sadly.

Legolas bent his head, "You speak of pain and heartache. How do you know that this would be his future? Must he be king?"

Elrond cast upon him sad, knowing eyes. "Dear child, so young yet. These are the things that must go as mysteries to you yet. I would not seek to burden you with my knowledge." He placed a hand on the younger elf’s shoulder, "Go to him, he has been lonely too long, as laughter has been absent from this house."

---

Legolas stood at a distance, watching his friend seated upon the bank. Estel, now Aragorn, stared into the waters. His posture was listless, but his eye’s were wrought with turmoil. He had not yet been made aware of the elf’s presence. Legolas had rushed from the house to the banks in search of Estel, but now as he found him, he knew not what to say, or how to proceed.

Hesitantly he stepped forward.

---

Estel was lost. Lost within himself as he sought to purge his new heritage from him in an effort to keep the dream world alive and true. But dreams were not reality, and at one time or another, he would have to awaken.

But perhaps it would not have to be as painful as he anticipated. He looked up with bloodshot eyes to the sight of his closest friend beside him, looking intently at him with kind eyes. "Legolas," He whispered hoarsely, slight disbelief in his voice. Was this just another wish his mind swung before him as bait?

"Aye, Estel, I am here." Legolas knew not what else to say.

Estel looked away quickly, "Nay, I am not Estel. That is all a lie," he said bitterly.

Legolas turned the human’s face back to look at him, "You will always be Estel to me, family line will not change that. Nor will our friendship change."

"How can you be my friend when you do not know who I really am?" Estel buried his face in his hands and shook his head, saying quietly, "I do not know who I am."

The elf grasped Estel’s chin again, forcing Estel to look at him again. "You are Estel, son of Elrond, brother of Elladen and Elrohir, and brother of my heart. Your character does not have to be changed by your heritage."

"The same blood which failed to free Middle-earth of evil runs in my veins, the same cowardliness!" Estel cried.

"I have not seen this weakness," Legolas said fiercely. "Nor any cowardly way in you. All our days together and your strength is all I have seen." He looked hard at the human, "You need not let this hinder you, unless you wish it to." Estel slowly was able to meet Legolas’s eyes. The elf grasped him by the shoulders. "Will you let it?" he whispered.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Estel battled within himself for control of his thoughts. He looked up again, "No. No I will not." Heaving a breath, he shook his head, "No."

Legolas stood abruptly in one graceful movement, pulling Estel up with him. "Who are you?"

Estel looked at him, then smiled ever so slightly. "I am Estel, son of Elrond and brother to Elladen and Elrohir, friend of Prince Legolas. And I am Aragorn."