Estel's Happy Childhood
Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to The Lord of the Rings. This parody is not intended as some cruel blow against Young!Estel fanfics, but as an amusing break from the average one. Enjoy!
Once upon a time, there lived a very cute, very small, and very lovable child called Aragorn. He was happy and content. His life was perfect... for about two years.
Things began to go wrong when his father got killed by orcs in a horrific, clever, and sneaky attack. Aragorn's father had not been expecting the attack, since it had been horrific, clever, and sneaky, but he fought bravely anyway, killing many orcs. Eventually the inevitable occurred, and he became riddled with arrows and dropped down DEAD.
Not only did Aragorn's father get killed by orcs, but his mother died as well, in a bizarre and unfortunate accident. As she sank to the ground, cradling her little baby in her arms, she had the strangest feeling that her life wasn't supposed to end this way. But end it did.
Aragorn was now a very cute, very small, and very lovable orphan. This enhanced his appeal.
It just so happened that at that moment, a handsome, charming, and friendly Elf was wandering through the woods with lots of time on his hands. The Elf was not only bored, but a prince of Mirkwood. His name was LEGOLAS. He was walking to Imladris for a holiday.
Strangely enough, nothing bad had happened to Legolas yet. Bad things generally happened to Legolas a good deal, especially when he tried to get to Imladris for a holiday. Thus, he was on the alert for DANGER.
Suddenly, Legolas heard a baby crying dolefully from somewhere in the shrubbery. "It must be a trap," he thought wisely. "I should avoid it."
However, the Valar were working overtime on this case. They loved helping poor little cute miserable sad orphans. So it was that Legolas decided that he might as well get wounded now to get it over with, and stuck his head into the clearing, waiting for an orc or something equally nasty to try to decapitate him.
"I see dead people," he thought. "How peculiar."
Sitting in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by the dead people, was Aragorn, wailing in an adorable fashion. Legolas thought, "Aww. How cute. It's a little baby mortal. I want to keep it."
He realized that it would take a lot of work to keep a mortal. Mortals were very demanding, and requiring lots of care and attention.
"I'll just take it to Imladris then," Legolas thought. "The Elves there will be better suited to provide for a mortal's many needs, since they won't have to spend half their time fighting off dangerous arachnids."
Legolas picked Aragorn up. Aragorn bit Legolas's finger. Legolas almost dropped Aragorn. Aragorn cooed happily.
The next few days made up for the lack of pain and suffering in the first part of Legolas's trip. Aragorn was EVIL. He bit everything in sight. However, Legolas was noble and SELF-SACRIFICING. He carried Aragorn all the way to Imladris.
Elladan and Elrohir, who also had way too much time on their hands, were playing tricks on people, because they were JUVENILE DELINQUENTS. Despite this, they were beloved by everyone.
Suddenly, someone dashed by.
"Did you see that?" asked Elrohir in his charming British accent.
"No," said Elladan, who not only had a charming British accent, but his head in a bucket.
"Well, I did," said Elrohir.
A cute little mortal galloped by, giggling happily. Legolas staggered after him, trying to catch the child before he fell over a WATERFALL.
Elladan and Elrohir were filled with feelings of foreboding. They looked at Legolas and the baby mortal curiously.
Aragorn decided to be SAD. He burst into tears. "Aaahhh! Want muffer," he said, sitting on the ground and sobbing his cute little heart out.
"Muffer?" asked the twins in unison.
"I think it's some kind of mortal plaything," said Legolas wisely.
"You Mirkwood Elves don't know anything," snapped Elladan, suddenly mean.
Legolas felt insulted by this racist attack.
"Obviously 'muffer' is some kind of nutritious food," continued Elladan. "And what are you doing with a baby anyway? You said nothing about a baby in your letter."
Elrond came out. He looked at Legolas, his sons, and the cute little child that was sitting on his doorstep. Elrond was WISE and SMART. He also had the GIFT OF FORESIGHT. "I saw this coming," he said grimly. "We must adopt this child and treat him as our very own."
"Coo," said Aragorn, little knowing what he was in for.
Every night, Aragorn had nightmares. This is understandable. Not only had his parents died, but he had been carried through the woods by an Elf who did not like him very much. He was also scared of Elladan and Elrohir. He was scared of storms. He was scared of his Elvish bed because it had a person carved at the head of it, and the person loomed over him at night. He was scared of the dark. He was scared of the big blue monster that lurked somewhere in the depths of his wardrobe.
All the Elves in Imladris felt VERY SORRY for Aragorn. They called him Estel. They tried to treat him nicely. They looked after him. Elladan and Elrohir loved him like a brother. Glorfindel told him scary stories at night, which he enjoyed.
Of course, now Estel had to worry about the balrog under his bed, but maybe it would protect him from the big blue monster. Maybe they would eat each other and not him.
Baby Estel began to grow.
By the time he was four, he was really SMART. He was also very angsty and sad all the time. It is amazing that he managed to be angsty at the age of four, but he managed it.
The only bad thing about Imladris was the large amount of EVIL ELVEN CHILDREN. They made fun of Estel. They pulled his ears. They climbed trees when he couldn't. They laughed at his sorrows. They called him names in High Elven Speech, which he didn't know very well. They said that he was JUST A PATHETIC ORPHAN.
"How did all these children appear?" Glorfindel wondered aloud one day. "No one has had children for hundreds of years."
The unlikelihood of the presence of Elven children did not matter, because Estel's little world came CRASHING DOWN. At the age of four, he was insecure and depressed. He had even more nightmares. For two years, his misery continued unabated.
One day, when he was six, Estel had a CLEVER PLAN. He would run away, and no one would find him. He chose the perfect day for it too, because it was stormy and dark, and very atmospheric.
Estel trotted off into the woods, sobbing hysterically for no reason. He accidentally ran into a TREE. This increased his sorrows. Then he fell over a large hill. He broke both his legs. Grimly, he crawled doggedly onwards.
Meanwhile, all the fairly stupid Elves were bumbling around Imladris saying things like, "Oh dear. It looks like rain" and "I wonder where Estel is" and "Have you seen my dentures?".
Elladan was getting accused of being an alarmist because he was saying things like, "Oh no! Estel is dying! Estel is dying!"
And forsooth, they were not afraid, for no one knew how truly he spoke. But so it was in later days, that they were to rue the evil fates that had blinded their eyes...
Enough of that.
Anyway, Estel was bleeding to death in the forest, because now he had cut his forehead on an inconvenient rock. He was delirious, and hurt, and sad, and angsty, and he was about to catch a COLD.
The cold had arrived.
"I think," said Elrohir, "that perhaps since Estel is nowhere in Imladris, he may be outside."
"Do you really think so?" asked Glorfindel with interest. "That had occurred to me too."
Elrond said, "I think we should go out and look for Estel. He may be hurt."
Thunder CRASHED. The Elves were worried by the sinister atmosphere. They hurried outside to look for Estel.
"I feel so sad," said Estel plaintively. "I feel unloved and unworthy, even though I have been showered with love and affection for four years." He sobbed some more.
All the Elves of Imladris were now bumbling around outside in the rain, except for Erestor, because Erestor was cruel and uncaring, and had never liked Estel anyway.
Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, Lindir, and a lot of nameless and fairly stupid Elves charged around the woods, yelling Estel's name. They were very worried.
"I think something bad has happened to him," said Elladan wisely.
"Really?" asked Glorfindel, who was a secondary character in the story, but was still managing to get in a few clever lines. "That had occurred to me too."
Suddenly, Elrond heard someone SNEEZE. "I hear Estel!" he cried.
"That was me," said Lindir, sneezing again.
"You idiot! Elves aren't supposed to sneeze!" yelled Elrond, whacking Lindir on the head for giving them all FALSE HOPE.
The Elves hurried onwards. Despite being cool and heroic, they could not find one miserable six-year old mortal child.
After they had all been scared and worried for about seven hours, and it was past midnight, and Estel was just about to breath his last...
...Elrohir said, "Maybe we should go home now."
Elrond said, "Nonsense. We're going to find him if it's the last thing we do."
Glorfindel said, "That had occurred to me too."
Elladan said, "I think I hear moaning."
They rounded a tree and saw Estel lying on the ground whimpering. He had two broken legs. He had a cold. He had a cut on his head.
"Oh no!" cried Elrond hysterically. "Dear Valar, no! A Elbereth! By Eru!" He dropped to his knees beside the wounded child. "Ai, ai! Good Ilúvatar! Ulmo's beard! Mandos Halls! Oh deary me!"
Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel looked at Elrond nervously, slightly surprised by this incoherent string of blasphemy. In case you hadn't noticed, Elves are CHRONIC SWEARERS. Elrond was, apparently, one of the worst.
Estel chose this moment to wake up and see a vague form standing him. He screamed and passed out.
Elrond jumped backwards in surprise.
Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel jumped backwards as well, falling over each other, sure that they were under attack.
The 'rescue' was a bit of a fiasco.
Fortunately, Estel lived to tell the tale. Except he didn't want to tell the tale. It was a bit embarrassing. At least he was alive.
When Estel turned fourteen, he went through a break-everything-in-sight phase. He felt awful. His voice also kept on going squeaky without warning.
"I'm breaking everything I see!" squeaked Estel, tripping over a doormat and breaking his nose. "Abnd dow by dose hurtz."
Elladan hauled him to the infirmary for medication.
Estel sat in a bed with his nose in plaster and thought miserable, unhappy thoughts. He was a FAILURE. He was a mortal. He broke everything in sight. His voice kept on going funny. He was sure Elladan and Elrohir hated him. Elrond probably hated him. Glorfindel probably hated him. Erestor did hate him, but he hated Erestor right back, because the Elf kept on trying to teach him history, and it wasn't working.
"I want to die!" wailed Estel.
"Don't worry," said Erestor. "That will happen eventually."
Oh yes, he was going to die. He was a mortal, after all. Estel felt even more depressed.
When Estel was twenty, he went out to have adventures. Adventures were fun. Elladan and Elrohir were always having adventures, and now Estel was old enough to do so. He was so excited.
Estel's adventures, however, seemed to be of a more painful nature than those of his 'brothers'. He kept on getting hurt. He was always falling off cliffs, or breaking ribs, or getting stuck in briar patches, or crashing parties... of orcs.
Estel was hobbling through the woods one day, thinking happy thoughts, and bleeding to death, when suddenly he encountered a grim Elf who was also hobbling through the woods bleeding to death. They looked at each other BLANKLY.
"You look familiar," gasped the Elf, collapsing in a heap.
"Do I?" panted Estel, collapsing on top of the Elf.
"Yes," wheezed the Elf, dragging himself out from underneath the human.
"That's nice," croaked Estel, pulling himself up again, using a handy tree branch for support.
"What's your name?" choked the Elf, bandaging his arm absentmindedly with a bit of his cloak.
"Estel," whimpered Estel, staggering against a tree. A branch fell on his head.
"Mine's Legolas," moaned the Elf, checking for broken bones.
"Nice name," grunted Estel, rubbing his head.
They looked at each other.
"Oh! You're that horrid little mortal baby that used my fingers for chew toys!" cried the Elf.
"And you're the Elf who I still have nightmares about!" squeaked Estel, reverting back to his teenager ways.
They glared at each other.
"I like your arrows though," said Estel after a pause.
"Do you really? I love your sword," said Legolas.
"Thanks," said Estel breezily.
"Let's go and kill some orcs," suggested Legolas with a homicidal glint in his eyes. He took a step forward and fell flat on his face.
"Sounds good," said Estel. "Just give me a second to splint my broken arm."
Thus a really strange and unusual FRIENDSHIP was formed.
However, Estel's life had been going too well. He had been too HAPPY of late. Elrond saw this, and was displeased. He decided to spring a little something on the man.
"Guess what," he said one day. "You aren't really Estel. Your name is Aragorn, and you are of Númenorean descent, and you're going to be King of Gondor someday."
"What?" shrieked Estel in panic. "This wasn't in my résumé!"
"Ha," said Elrond. "Enjoy your childhood while you can."
Estel/Aragorn felt really DEPRESSED, because his 'father' had been concealing his future from him. He went to his bedroom and collapsed into his bed and sobbed his little heart out.
Legolas happened to be in the vicinity, recovering from his most recent adventure. He sensed that something was WRONG, and went to find Estel.
"I'm not Estel!" wailed Estel hysterically. "I'm the King of Gondor!"
Legolas was not surprised. "I always knew you were made to do great things," he said nobly.
"I don't feel good," said Estel, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. He felt a bit nauseous.
Legolas comforted his unhappy friend. They shared an angsty and touching moment.
A little while later, Estel was wandering around in the gardens when he saw a beauteous Elf-maid skipping merrily through the trees. They instantly fell in love.
"I am in love with your beauteous daughter," said Estel to Elrond.
Elrond suddenly turned EVIL. "I hate you!" he yelled. "Take the Ring of Barahir and leave this house and don't come back until you're the KING OF GONDOR!"
Elrond threw the Ring of Barahir at Estel's head.
Estel scowled. "All right then. I'm leaving!" he shouted.
Estel stomped outside and grabbed a horse. He jumped on. He looked back at the house with a threatening expression on his face. His childhood was over. It hadn't been that great anyway.
"I'll be back," he said.