A New Beginning

It was raining when he was told.

Not the sort of raining plants delighted in, for it wet their roots and encouraged them to grow tall and strong, nor the sort of rain children loved, for they could run and leap and splash; no, this rain came hammering down as if the very heavens themselves were weeping. The bright sky was smothered with a thick, black blanket, and it seemed even the sun was extinguished. It was indeed dark enough that many thought they had wronged the Valar, and the immortal beings had sent darkness to cover the land in vengeful retribution. It was so dark that the men paled in their sturdy homes, and were afraid.

He sat alone, speaking to no one.

The wind whipped the trees into submission, pulling timeless oaks and birches to the ground with the ease a small child might pull grass from that same earth. Pounding down at the same time was the rain, beating the buildings with tremendous vigour. But the rain was surpassed in both volume and ferocity by the mighty thunder. So loud were the reverberations that the dwarves heard them in their deep underground caverns, and were afraid.

He did not notice the rain, nor the thunder, so lost in thought was he.

But exceeding both the rain and the thunder was another force, one so powerful that none dared step foot outside. Even the storm giants cowered among their mountains when this supremacy came out to play. It could strike anything down, were it hit with enough power. This was the terrible lightning. It ripped across the sky, echoing with an astonishing sound as it forked through the air. Driving away the unnatural darkness for a split second, it slammed into existence just as quickly as it was gone. It was so bright that the elves shielded their eyes from it in their majestic houses, and were afraid.

The darkness sheltered him; the rain concealed him. He thought it fitting that the storm should chance to happen now, upon the apex of the blackest moment of his life. His blissful existence had ended; a darker time had begun. He stared out into the void of obscurity before him, unsure of what to do. Mind whirling, he tried to trap the thoughts flying through his head like an arrow shot through the air. Twenty years he had lived in idyllic ignorance, while enjoying his childhood like any child should: climbing trees, causing pranks, maddening his elders. But now he knew the truth, never again would he be a youth.

The weight of this unwanted yet inescapable knowledge weighted him down, hunching his back and drawing his shoulders closer to the earth. He sat so for many hours, misplaced from his family as the thunderstorm raged around him. As the storm continued to build, there came a voice from the darkness, calling his name – but not his true name.

"Estel? Estel, seas." The voice pleaded with the man sitting huddled on the ground. It rose and diminished in both pitch and volume as the owner of the voice came closer and then further from the person it was seeking.

"Leave me be." The man muttered, inaudible within the storm, clasping his knees to his chest.

"Estel? I know you're out here." The voice continued. Estel exhaled softly, making no move to alert the seeker as to his position. He wanted to be alone, and so he would not help. "There you are." Estel felt a presence next to him, but did not look over. The presence sighed, and did not speak, to the younger man's surprise. He did not speak either, and together, they sat through the storm.

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Estel didn't know how long they sat with each other, not speaking. He listened to the other's slow breathing, allowing it to calm his mind enough that he felt able to talk.

"Why are you here?" Estel asked softly. His companion immediately turned, although Estel still did not move to look at him.

"You know why I am here." Estel frowned at this reply, pulling his legs closer to his body.

"He lied to me." He said wretchedly, rain dripping down his face in place of tears. "You all did."

"Only because we love you, brother. It was the best thing to do, to not let you know who you truly were-"

"But you didn't let me know who I am! I don't know how to be 'Aragorn'; I only know how to be Estel! And I am not your brother." Estel exclaimed passionately. For a moment, silence descended, save for the rolling of the ominous thunder.

"You may not be my brother, but I am yours, and forever will be." Elladan replied, sure of his words. Estel buried his face in his hands, ashamed of himself.

"I don't know what to do." He admitted, shoulders beginning to shake. An arm wrapped itself around Estel, pulling him towards his brother.

"Do you remember the first time you witnessed a thunderstorm?" Elladan asked suddenly. Estel shook his head mutely, still curled in on himself but leaning against the elf. "You must have been only ten years of age. The thunder woke you up in the middle of the night, and Ada, Elrohir and I came running into your room, called by your screams." Estel frowned, unsure of where this was going. He began to pull away, but Elladan just gently tightened his grip. "They weren't screams of fear, as we all had expected, but screams of delight and joy. You were fascinated by the lightning, and cried when the storm was over." Elladan chuckled fondly at the memory.

The thunder crashed overhead, and Elladan counted silently until he saw the lightning flash again. The long gap between them showed that the storm was moving away from Imladris, on its way to devastate another region of Middle Earth. Estel allowed himself to rely on Elladan to stay upright and simply closed his eyes, feeling tremors wrack his body both from the cold and from his pent-up thoughts. He felt himself being lifted into the air and carried towards the safe haven that was his home, and made no effort to stop his brother from doing so.

The rain still beat down, but the thunder and lightning had departed for the moment, leaving the water to wash away the destruction and chaos they had caused. Estel tilted his face towards the sky, letting the water trail down his face and remove all unwanted thoughts before he faced the man who had lied to him for his entire life. But Estel was no longer angry – he was at peace.

As the rain began to let up, the people of the newly cleansed Imladris let out a collective sigh of relief. It was a fresh start for them, but more importantly, it was a fresh start for the man who would be King. And he intended to make good use of this new beginning.

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