Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive

Disclaimer: The major characters in this story and the world they live in aren’t mine…they are all the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien. I’m just giving them a few more adventures for fun, not profit.

Summary: A young Aragorn learns a lesson on the real meaning of courage during a journey underground to find his missing brother. Main characters: Estel (Aragorn), Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas.

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He hated caves. He hated the feeling of being trapped underground in the dark. He hated the damp cold that seemed to seep into his bones. He hated the cloying smell of rot and mildew that reminded him of death and decay. And most of all, he hated the nasty creatures that skulked in the darkness. Well, to be fair, that wasn’t entirely true. He could tolerate bats and many of the other little cave dwellers, and truthfully didn’t even hate cave trolls, although he did his level best to avoid them. No, what he really hated were the hoards of rats that swarmed about the nether world. The little creatures were the source of nightmares and he despised how they made him feel. Even now, after centuries of proving himself as a warrior who would fearlessly fight in the face of overwhelming odds, the horrible little rodents could still bring back those haunting feelings of being abandoned, lost, and left to die in the dark. Very little could make him feel fear, but these small creatures held the key to an irrational terror, and he hated them for it.

“Valar, Elladan will owe me for this,” Elrohir muttered as he forced unwilling feet to take him deeper into the realm where he was certain the little beasts would be found in droves.

A sound of someone stumbling behind him made the young elven lord abruptly stop and look down the dark passage he’d just come through. A quick glance told him that his two companions were well—probably Estel was getting tired and had tripped over something in the dark. With that thought, Elrohir gave a mental sigh and then motioned for the others stop for a break. He was already worried sick about one brother—no need to let something happen to the other due to his impatience.

As the three quietly sat down and made themselves as comfortable as possible on the stone floor of the tunnel, Elrohir leaned his head against the rocky wall and tried to force his tense shoulders to relax while he reflected on what had brought him to this place. What a disaster! Had it only been a week ago that they had all been having such fun? It had started out so innocently. His father, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, had asked him and his twin, Elladan, to take a message to a group of traders in Norwall. It was to be an easy trip, so the twins had asked if they could bring along their young human foster brother, Estel, and turn it into a hunting trip as well. Their father had readily agreed since the 16-year-old had been pestering him for months to allow him to go hunting with the twins, and the three brothers had been making their way to Norwall when they’d run across Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. By chance, Legolas had been journeying to Rivendell for a long overdue visit to see his old friends and to meet their brother, so of course he’d joined their little adventure and the four had been having a wonderful time until they had reached the bustling town nestled amongst the looming cliffs that gave it its name.

The town itself had been pleasant enough, but the simple delivery of Elrond’s message had turned out to be anything but simple. The traders hadn’t liked Elrond’s terms and an unsuspecting Elladan had been taken as a bargaining chip by the men, who informed Elrohir they would keep Elrond’s eldest son as a hostage until the elf lord agreed to provide them with goods for a fraction of their normal cost. Anyone could have told the men that they would never get away with their plan—only a fool would think that they could threaten any of Elrond’s kin and still come out ahead. But these men were fools, refusing to even discuss Elladan’s release with Elrohir. Instead, they let him know in no uncertain terms that he’d best take a message home quickly or they would start sending Elladan back one piece at a time.

Elrohir and his companions had no intention of leaving Elladan in the hands of these barbarians, so after making a show of leaving, they had secretly tracked the men to the maze of caverns and tunnels that lie beneath the cliffs of Norwall. That had been days ago, however, and ever since they had been searching the depths for Elladan. Without the sun to properly mark the days, it was hard to tell exactly how long it had been, but Elrohir knew it had been at least three, possibly four days that they had been underground. It might as well have been an eternity. Under the best of circumstances he despised caves, and with his twin missing, it was far from the best of circumstances. Add in those skittering noises and glimpses of something moving in the dark, and it made for one tense, unhappy elf who had been on edge since he had stepped foot in the caves.

Now, despite growing exhaustion, Elrohir just wanted to keep moving—to find his brother and get out. The need was almost overwhelming and he had to force himself to sit still, knowing that Estel, not yet a man really, needed his rest and it wasn’t fair to push him past his endurance. So he sat quietly while the others settled down, watching and listening in the darkness.

Elrohir wasn’t the only one not sleeping, however. Legolas, too, needed less sleep than the young human and so he also kept a silent vigil over their little group. He would never tell his friend, but he was becoming far more worried about Elrohir than about his twin. He had faith that they’d find Elladan and rescue him from whatever mess he’d ended up in, but he wasn’t sure about how this quest would affect Elrohir. The longer they were underground, the more tense and haunted Elrohir appeared—it actually hurt to see how the strain was affecting his friend. Despite a pretense, he knew that Elrohir hadn’t slept a moment since they’d left behind the open sky and was concerned about how prepared Elrohir would be for whatever awaited them.

When he saw Elrohir drop his head and press his thumbs into his forehead in a clear attempt to try to smooth away pain, he decided to finally say something and whispered, “Elrohir, you should also rest while Estel sleeps. I can keep watch.”

Elrohir’s head shot up and he looked almost guiltily at Legolas. “Nay, you sleep. I…I am not tired.”

“Ro,” Legolas answered with concern, “I know for a fact you have not slept since Elladan was taken and you cannot hide how your head aches. Sleep while you have the chance, so you will be well rested when we find him.”

Glancing over to make sure that they were not waking Estel, who had dropped to sleep almost immediately, Elrohir hissed, “I cannot.” He paused for a long moment before continuing wearily, “Legolas, I could be half dead with fatigue and still could not sleep in this wretched place. The very thought of being unaware in this despicable darkness makes my skin crawl. There are just too many…memories. Please understand.”

Legolas looked over at his friend, the flickering torchlight once more showing the dark-haired elf rubbing his forehead. Legolas did understand, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then shut it and nodded instead. The best thing he could do for all of his friends would be to rest himself so at least he would be ready for whatever faced them when they found Elladan. He scooted back and leaned his head against the wall of the cave, willing his body to rest as well. The last clear thought he had before he slipped into sleep was, *Just don’t let there be any rats.*

For at least another day, the three companions searched silently in the increasingly hazardous maze of tunnels. When they had first entered the caves, the tunnels had been well marked and wide, with bridges built by the men of Norwall over the deep crevices and streams that cut across the path. But they had long since left those easy trails and now traveled more dangerous, hidden pathways.

They had just finished making their way up a particularly treacherous wall and onto a wide ledge when Elrohir stopped so suddenly that Legolas, who was directly behind him, nearly ran into him.

“What is it?” Legolas whispered as his friend stared ahead into the darkness of a deep tunnel.

When Elrohir didn’t answer, the prince tapped his arm lightly in order to get his attention, but the dark-haired elf didn’t move or say anything.

“Elrohir?” Legolas asked in a sharp whisper, but the other still remained frozen.

“What did you find?” asked Estel in a normal voice, as he came up to the two.

The sound seemed to finally break through to Elrohir, who visibly flinched at the loud noise and answered in a barely audible voice, “Elladan is just ahead. Through that tunnel. I do not know if he is alone, however, so we must make no noise.”

Excited that their seemingly eternal search might suddenly be at an end, Estel dropped his voice to a whisper and asked, “Are you sure he’s there?”

The expression that Elrohir shot back at Estel was one of exasperation, irritation, and amusement. Summed up, it seemed to say “are you kidding” and Estel grinned to see it. The very normalness of it after days of seeing Elrohir acting tense and distracted lightened the mood and the teenager snickered quietly. He knew the twins had some sort of inexplicable bond that allowed them, under certain circumstances, to sense each other and from Elrohir’s look, this was clearly one of those times. “Sorry,” he whispered with a grin.

Elrohir answered with the ghost of a grin himself, which faded as he turned back to the tunnel. He really didn’t want to enter the inky darkness, something at the edge of his senses causing him to fear what he might find. But he would make himself. Elladan was on the other side, and he would walk weaponless through the depths of Mordor itself to save his twin. He could do this for him, even if the thought of entering the pitch dark hole filled him with dread.

When he looked back at his companions, however, only his determination and none of the apprehension showed in his face—he was, after all, an elven warrior, so he appeared calm as he whispered, “I will take the torch and search the tunnel, then call for you when I am ready.”

“Shouldn’t we stay together, in case there are men guarding Elladan?” asked Estel.

Elrohir shook his head and answered, “Nay, I will be careful, and this way if they have laid a trap, there will still be two of you should I be taken as well.”

“See to it that you are careful. You know Elladan would never forgive us if you found yourself in trouble while he was not around to rescue you,” said Legolas, only half in jest.

The dark-haired elf twisted his mouth in wry agreement. His twin was known for being annoyingly protective of him at times, but then again, he was just as protective of Elladan, although he liked to think he was more subtle about it. And while he was thinking of protective streaks…he shone the torch onto Estel and added an admonishment of his own, “Listen to Legolas while I am gone and do not come until I call, understood?” The last thing he wanted was for his little brother to attempt any foolish heroics—he really had no desire to be searching for yet another brother in this nightmare of a cave.

As he might have predicted, however, Estel rolled his eyes in annoyance and didn’t answer. The young man had reached an age where he thought he was able to care for himself and for the past several months had been rather touchy about his brothers “treating him like a child.” The look he shot back spoke volumes and only made Elrohir more determined.

Not willing to leave until he was certain that Estel wouldn’t follow, Elrohir stared at his brother until the teenager finally started to squirm. With a small huff, Estel reluctantly nodded his agreement and muttered quietly, “Understood.” Satisfied with the promise though not so pleased with the delivery, Elrohir nonetheless accepted Estel’s word and with a grim nod, turned back to the tunnel entrance. Then the elven lord drew himself up, called upon a reservoir of inner strength he kept for such times, and stepped into the tunnel.

At first, it was bearable. The tunnel was narrow and low and there was an unpleasant chill to it made worse by thin streams of water that dripped down its walls. However, other than having to carefully watch his feet to avoid falling over the many rocks that littered the uneven path, there weren’t any dangers that Elrohir could detect.

But as he got further down the passage, the dread he had felt before grew ten-fold and Elrohir felt a tightness in his chest as something invaded his subconscious. He didn’t know just what it was, but something was warning him—something that his senses had recognized but his mind had not yet placed. Then his conscious mind put the pieces together and he had to force himself to bite back a moan. Oh why now?

‘Keep going. Keep going,’ Elrohir said to himself over and over as he inched forward. He knew they were nearby. Their unforgettable scent grew stronger with each passing moment. The odor tried to draw him back to a time of helpless terror and each step became harder than the last. But he did keep moving forward. He wouldn’t let his fears get the better of him. He couldn’t. He was strong enough to defeat them. He knew that. Then he swallowed hard as a scratching sound triggered more memories and almost dragged him into the past. Oh Valar! He was so close…he couldn’t lose control. Not now. ‘Just ignore it. Keep going...’

He thought he’d make it. He really thought he could hold his fear at bay long enough to get through the tunnel and reach his twin. But he hadn’t counted on coming face-to-face, literally, with his nightmare. Hidden amongst the rocks was a large nest of rats that had made their home within a small niche, and as the light from Elrohir’s torch illuminated their tiny alcove, the entire group of them swarmed out and began to race about madly. An elf is typically quite graceful and light on his feet, but even an elf has limits and Elrohir had finally reached his. Too many days without sleep and too many days of tense worry had drained him, so when one of the creatures ran between his feet, he backed up in alarm and couldn’t keep his balance as he tripped over another one that had run behind him.

He fell backwards onto the ground, first his back and then his head smashing down hard against the rocks that lay strewn about the narrow passage. A blinding flash of pain left him dazed, but any thoughts of injuries he may have sustained from the fall disappeared almost instantly. Disturbed by the large creature that had invaded their home, the rats attacked Elrohir as he fell amongst them, running over top of the elf and sinking their sharp teeth into him wherever they could. As a particularly large one ran across his chest and onto his face, he lost his last hold on conscious thought and yelled, “NO!” as he frantically tried to get away from his nightmare brought to life. Crawling and tripping over rocks and rats, his mind instantly took him back to a time of helplessness when other groups of these horrid creatures had tormented him and he was desperate to escape.

Not pausing to think about which direction he was heading—not really conscious of anything except an overpowering need to flee, Elrohir scrambled backwards, still trying to get to his feet, but stumbling and tripping in the darkness. He was so disoriented that he didn’t even realize when he finally did make it out of the tunnel. Stumbling blindly in the darkness, for he had lost the torch when he’d fallen, Elrohir cried out when he felt something reach out of the darkness and grab him and he started to fight wildly.

He tried to pull away, but the grip only grew stronger and he soon found his arms pinned to his sides. Elrohir refused to give in, near-panic setting in as he tried to free himself. Then, as he continued to struggle, as if from a distance he finally heard quiet, reassuring sounds and realized that the strong arms trapping him were actually holding him in a comforting embrace. It was at that point that his senses started to return and he realized that he had run into Legolas, who was now trying to calm down the frightened elf.

“Shh…it is alright. I have you. It is I, Legolas. It is alright. You are fine….” When the string of words penetrated Elrohir’s fright, he stopped fighting altogether and at last slumped into his friend’s arms.

For awhile, no one moved as the prince held his shaking friend tight, steadying him as Elrohir’s gulping breaths filled the cavern. Legolas murmured soft words of comfort and then in a slightly louder voice, called over and asked calmly, “Estel, please light another torch.”

The young man did so as quickly as he could, his own hands shaking slightly with the shock of the sudden turn of events. What had happened? What horrible beast had attacked Elrohir? After several tries, he finally lit the torch and then stared at the sight now illuminated in front of him. Legolas was kneeling on the ground, holding Elrohir, who was wide eyed and shivering, but Estel knew it wasn’t from the cold. He could see from the way Elrohir’s eyes followed the rats that were now running about the cave that he feared them. That was it? Rats? He was afraid of…of little rodents?

Estel didn’t move as he tried to comprehend the ugly truth that his eyes were showing him. With gut-twisting disappointment, he saw that his brother…his big, strong, brave brother, had not run from a fearsome beast, but from some small furry animals! It was a shock to the young man, who had not-so-secretly viewed his brothers as his idols from the moment he had met them. As he stared at Elrohir and Legolas, he simply didn’t know what to say or do. He was sick with disappointment. Elrohir was a coward! Unwilling to share his stunning disillusionment, he lowered his head before anyone could read in his face what he was thinking—he would have to decide later what this would mean to his relationship with the younger twin.

Unaware of his brother’s distress and not in any shape to deal with even if he had seen it, when the light flared in his eyes, Elrohir turned away and buried his head in Legolas’ chest, grateful for the protective hold of the other. Exhausted and overwrought, it was a relief to simply rest for a moment, knowing Legolas would keep him safe.

Within moments, however, the shaken elf knew he would have to leave the haven of his friend’s arms in order to find his twin, so Elrohir collected himself and lifted his head. He pulled away from Legolas, his movements awkward as he tripped while trying to get up. His bruised back was finally making is presence known and it robbed him of his usual surefootedness, but he finally managed to stagger to his feet and stood there for a moment as he attempted to regain his composure. It didn’t help that he saw the sharp drop behind him, only now realizing that Legolas had saved him from a nasty, if not deadly fall. It sobered him to realize how close he had come to ruining Elladan’s rescue mission. If the others had to take care of an injured companion, they would not have been able to continue their hunt for Elladan. All because of his stupidity!

He drew a deep breath and dragged his hands across his face. “Valar,” he whispered huskily, “that was…” His voice choked away to nothingness as a lump in his throat threatened to choke him. Swallowing, he continued in a tight voice, “…that was...I…I was…” The still shaky elf covered his face with his hands and whispered shamefully, “I am so sorry.”

Legolas also stood up and squeezed Elrohir’s shoulder sympathetically. He said nothing, knowing there were no words that could comfort his friend now, but his silence spoke volumes as he tried to convey his understanding with a warm touch.

For long moments, the two stood there, until Elrohir finally raised his head and looked at his friend. Elrohir’s eyes were still haunted, but he managed a small smile of thanks for Legolas’ quiet support. But then he shook his head, his face twisting into self-directed anger. How he loathed himself! Grimacing, he whispered in disgust, “I am such a fool.”

“Elrohir, don’t,” said Legolas quietly. He had seen this before and knew that Elrohir would be mentally beating himself for his involuntary reaction—the younger elf despised losing control and had never been able to accept his dread of dark caves and rats. Legolas wished he could tell Elrohir to wait here—that he would go forward alone though the rat-infested tunnel and find Elladan, but he knew he could never get his friend to stay behind. He understood the reason behind Elrohir’s deep hatred of rats, but also knew that even their presence could never stop him from going after his twin—to even suggest it would be an insult.

Looking solemnly at Elrohir, he finally said, “We should continue…but would you allow me to take the lead? There is no need for you to go first,” he offered, hoping at least that Elrohir could be spared any more unwanted surprises.

But true to his nature, Elrohir wasn’t about to agree. Rats or no rats, it was his place to go for Elladan. He shook his head and reached over with an unsteady hand to take Estel’s torch, still too shaken to notice his brother’s expression.

“Thank you, Legolas,” whispered Elrohir, “but no. You wait here and I will scout ahead.” He concluded in a voice still full of disgust for himself, “In fact, I should hurry. If there is anyone through that tunnel other than Elladan, they are surely aware of us now so I must move fast.”

He walked purposely back to the entrance of the tunnel and then stood there for a moment, desperately trying to maintain an air of calm as he listened to the sounds of little skittering feet ahead in the narrow passageway. He closed his eyes as he tried to gather the strength to once again face his nightmare. He conjured up an image of his twin’s face, knowing that Elladan was on the other side of the rats. If he could stay focused on that image, he knew he could do it.

The too-tense elf jerked in surprise and his eyes flew open when he suddenly heard a voice from over his shoulder, “Elrohir, we are coming with you. As you say, there is no chance of surprise now, so there is no need for us to wait.”

Elrohir turned to argue with Legolas—they could all be walking into a trap—but when he saw the other’s determined face, he paused. He had known the blond prince since they had been elflings and he recognized Legolas’ stubborn expression—it was highly unlikely that he would be able to change his mind and arguing would only delay finding Elladan, so with a resigned sigh, he nodded his acceptance and turned back to the tunnel entrance. Now he just had to make it past the rats.

The first step was the hardest, but after he started, Elrohir moved without hesitation. As he carefully made his way into the narrow passage, he admitted to himself that he was comforted by the sounds of his companions behind him even though he knew that it would have been a better strategy for them to wait. He was determined that this time he would not react outwardly to presence of the rats, but it was still good to know that whatever happened he wouldn’t face it alone.

Perhaps it was the added comfort knowing Legolas and Estel were right behind him, but when Elrohir came across the first rats, he didn’t even pause. The rats he had disturbed earlier were still filling up the narrow passage, blocking the way in several places so with a tightening of his jaw, he nudged them aside with his boot, forcing aside the revulsion he felt at the thought of touching them. He also made himself ignore the involuntary fear that made his stomach churn as he made his way further down the tunnel and once again smelled the nest. It had been many centuries since he’d last faced this particular nightmare and it angered him to know that these small animals still could have such an effect on him. Showing no sign of his inner turmoil, Elrohir strode forward with purpose. *Aye,* he thought grimly as he brushed past more of the rats, *Elladan will really owe me this time.*

As Elrohir fought against his inner demons and Legolas followed his friend closely, ready to act if the need arose, Estel brought up the rear, lost in his own, grim thoughts. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed what had just happened. He had grown up listening to stories of the twins’ adventures and had conjured up a mental image of his brothers as the ultimate warriors—strong and courageous, able to face the most terrifying foes. But that image had been shattered in the short moments when he’d heard Elrohir rush out of the tunnel and then seen him shivering in Legolas’ arms. He didn’t even consider the fact that Elrohir was now wading through those same creatures that had such a devastating effect on the elf. All he could see was that his hero had turned out to be afraid of some silly little rodents. His disappointment turned to anger as he followed the two elves through the dimly lit passage. How dare Elrohir pretend to be a brave warrior when he was scared of some stupid little rats? He scowled as he stalked behind the others, his lip curling in disgust as he readjusted his opinion of his brother—the coward!

A/N: Hi all…after a rather lengthy absence, I’m back and have a new story to share. It’s one I mentioned before that I’d like to write—the backstory to how Estel learns a lesson in courage from his elven brother (mentioned in my previous story, “Lost.”) I had hoped to write the whole story while I was gone, but didn’t really have time—sigh. SO, the updates won’t come as quickly as I’d hoped...sorry. Well, I’ve really missed hearing from you (except Lalaith, who continued to write even though I wasn’t posting—thanks so much—you’re a dear!!) and I’m so glad to be back. I hope you enjoy the story. FirstMate

Mercifully for the three searchers, the journey through the tunnel was short and uneventful. In fact, mere yards past where Elrohir had fallen, the tunnel turned sharply and opened up into a large cavern, giving the searchers a welcome respite from the confining, still rat-fill tunnel.

As the trio walked out into the open chamber, Estel carefully studied his brother’s form ahead of him. He could see how tensely Elrohir still held himself and Estel’s disillusionment grew while he tried to adjust to a new reality. He had heard so many stories about his brothers but never before questioned whether or not they were true. He had grown up knowing that his brothers were bold, courageous, fearless warriors…heroes. But Elrohir wasn’t brave at all! How could he even call himself a warrior if some stupid rats could make him run? The young man glanced over at Legolas and then looked away as a new feeling washed over him—shame. What must the Prince of Mirkwood think? Estel was appalled to know that Legolas had seen his brother’s disgrace. He had always been so proud of the twins—proud to be their brother—but now he was embarrassed and didn’t want to imagine low Legolas’ opinion of his family must now be.

Soft words from Elrohir broke through Estel’s disturbing thoughts, “He is very close.” The dark-haired elf cocked his head as he considered and added, “...somewhere in this room, perhaps.”

Elrohir held the torch high as the three searchers circled the chamber slowly, keeping an eye out for Elladan as well as any signs of the men who had taken him. Very soon, it became clear that there were no kidnappers in the large room, but it also became clear that Elladan was not there. Elrohir finally stopped when they’d completely circled the room and once more held the torch up as his eyes scanned the edges of the light—nothing but rock met his gaze. He turned to his companions and asked with quiet desperation, “Did you see anything? Was there anywhere that Elladan might be? I feel so certain he is here, but...but...” his words drifted off as he turned his troubled gaze away from the others as his eyes tried to pierce the darkness.

“Perhaps he’s nearby, but in another room,” offered Estel quietly, despite himself feeling compelled to try to soothe away some of the tension that was practically rolling off of Elrohir in waves.

Elrohir shrugged in a very human gesture and shook his head. “Perhaps...but I do not believe so. He is here...somewhere,” he finished in frustration and worry.

“If you say he is here, then this is where we should continue to look,” stated Legolas calmly. “We must simply search the chamber again, taking our time and searching more thoroughly.”

Elrohir looked at Legolas and nodded, grateful for the reasoned suggestion. “Aye,” he said and then suiting actions to words, once more started around the cavern, although this time going much slower.

About halfway around, he stopped when Estel grabbed his arm. “Elrohir, shine the light over to the left. Look behind those rocks...there is a darkness there that may be a hole of some kind.”

Elrohir did as Estel suggested and saw that indeed, there was a large crevice along the floor, previously hidden by some boulders, that was several yards wide and so long that it extended past the circle of light. The searchers moved quickly to it, all three dropping to their knees as Elrohir shone the light down, trying to see if Elladan was somewhere in the darkness. They each also called out to their missing companion, hoping to hear an answering shout.

They were disappointed to see nothing but a deep pit lined with small rock ledges and hear nothing except a hollow echo of their own shouts. Estel and Legolas were grim when they pulled back from the edge, but Elrohir had a different look in his eyes when he sat back and looked at the others.

“He is there,” he said with satisfaction. “Perhaps on that ledge just below, but there. So close I can feel him.”

Estel peered back down, still seeing nothing and then turned to the others with an exasperated expression. “How typical! He had this whole cavern and somehow he managed to end up in the only hole around. And then he hides where we cannot see him. Only Elladan would be that ornery!”

His observation made the others laugh and the mood lightened considerably until Elrohir removed his light pack and moved as if to climb down into the dark hole.

Elrohir stopped and looked at Legolas, his face carefully devoid of emotion as he fought the angry words that leapt to his mind. Under normal circumstances, he knew there would be no talk of ropes. Elves were strong and sure-footed and certainly capable of climbing the short distance to the ledge. It was clear, however, that the prince was concerned Elrohir might not be fully in control of his reactions if he came across any other little nasty surprises—furthermore, it galled him to know that Legolas was right. It was that understanding but also knowing that Legolas’ caution came from caring rather than judging that made Elrohir swallow his biting response and accept the suggestion with a sharp nod.

A short time later with a rope around his waist, Elrohir once again stood at the top of the crevice and looked down. Unable to help himself, his eyes searched carefully each of the small nooks and crannies, expecting to see myriad sets of beady little eyes shining up at him, but finding nothing but dark, unmoving rock.

Elrohir started slightly when a quiet voice behind him asked, “Are you all right?”

Turning to see Legolas regarding him with concern, he tried to sound nonchalant as he answered, “Aye. Just planning the best way down. It does not look like a difficult climb.”

He started to turn back away, but then caught himself. He owed his friend a more honest answer than that. Legolas was worried about him and didn’t deserve anything but the truth, as humiliating as it may be. Turning to fully face Legolas, Elrohir breathed deeply before admitting quietly, “I was checking for rats. I can see none, but…but I would not wish to be startled and perhaps do something foolish.” He grimaced as he tried to finish with a trace of humor, “If I fell on Elladan, he’d never let me forget it.”

Legolas smiled briefly at Elrohir’s attempt at levity and then offered hesitantly, “I could go instead.” In all honesty, he knew he was more fit at the moment to climb down into the crevice, but he didn’t want to upset Elrohir by implying he was incapable of attempting his brother’s rescue.

Elrohir didn’t take offense, however. Instead he shook his head and sighed. “Nay. I must go. Elladan is sure to require care, as he has not answered any of our calls. In spite of any other…concerns…I am still best suited.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, trying to ease some of the tension as he planned, “If you guide the rope, Estel can hold the torch over the edge, providing some light as I climb. Then once I reach Elladan, one of you can lower a torch down with a second rope.”

Legolas had to agree with Elrohir’s plan—it was as good as any other—but he wasn’t happy to think of Elrohir climbing into the darkness when he was still shaken by his encounter with the rats. Without any better options, though, he nodded reluctantly and said, “If that is what you wish, I agree the plan is solid. I am ready on the rope when you are.”

Elrohir nodded, waited for Estel to shine the torch over the edge, and then carefully began his descent. It wasn’t long before Elrohir began to feel more and more jumpy, expecting any moment to see a furry rodent’s face pop out at him from one of the many shadowy recesses that Estel’s torch couldn’t illuminate. Only by thinking of his twin waiting below, with unknown injuries, could he keep focused and somewhat steady.

Not too far down into the hole, Elrohir reached the first small ledge. It was barely big enough to stand on, however, and certainly had no place for Elladan to be hiding. A problem arose, however, when he put his foot down below it and found nothing. The light couldn’t penetrate the darkness below the ledge, so Elrohir had to lie on his stomach and feel beneath it, trying to find some kind of foothold in the dark. Unfortunately, he found that under the ledge was a deep hollow, so eventually he was forced to lower himself over the edge and hang from his fingertips while he swung himself inward, his feet scrambling for some kind of toehold.

On the third swing, he was successful, although the result left him hanging onto the underside of the rock in an almost horizontal position. He took a moment to steady himself, and then slowly inched his way downward until he was once more upright, clinging to the rock face.

*That’s another one you owe me,* he thought darkly, as he kept climbing downward, just beginning to reach the end of the circle of light from above.

Seeing glimpses of another, larger ledge below him, Elrohir continued his way down, watching for signs of Elladan, but also for anything that might be moving in the darkness. He found nothing amongst the many small crevices, but once he reached the ledge, he did find his main quarry. Almost no light reached this level, but through the bond the twins shared, he could sense Elladan, curled up against the inside edge of the ledge. Where he lay was completely black, however, so Elrohir could tell nothing of his condition by sight. He reached in the darkness and found his twin, then ran his hand lightly over his head, rejoicing to find a warm, living body beside him.

He leaned out so he could see the others anxiously waiting above and called, “I have found him, but he is not conscious—send down a torch, so I may determine what is wrong.”

A torch, tied to the end of a second rope was quickly lowered and Elrohir caught it quickly as it slid down the rock wall. He untied it and propped it up in a small cranny before turning to his brother, inhaling through his teeth as he clearly saw for the first time the severity of bruising and scrapes that seemed to cover Elladan.

“Now, what have you done to yourself this time?” he murmured as he began his exam. Dark caves, rats, indeed the rest of the world disappeared as Elrohir pushed away everything but his concern for his twin and determining his injuries. Quickly, he ran his hands over Elladan to search for hidden wounds—his face becoming grim as he added up the tally: a concussion, several broken ribs, a badly sprained left wrist, a deep gash in his right forearm, an assortment of cuts and deep bruises over much of his body, and what appeared to be a dislocated shoulder that had already been popped back into place. Nothing life threatening, but the combination of injuries was bound to be painful and of more immediate concern, there was a real danger that the broken ribs could puncture a lung if he was moved incorrectly.

Sorting out what he needed to do, Elrohir gently straightened Elladan’s limbs, being careful to not jar his ribs in the process. Then he called up to his companions, who had watching quietly from above, trying not to distract him while he finished his examination.

“He is injured, though with care he will recover nicely,” Elrohir called, to their great relief. He continued more seriously, “He does have some broken ribs, however, which must be bound before he can be moved. Could you take my cloak from my pack and tear it into long strips, then send them down to me?”

Acknowledging their understanding, Legolas and Estel quickly moved to fulfill his request while Elrohir waited with a hand on his unconscious twin, hoping Elladan could somehow feel the contact and know he was safe.

At the top of the crevice, there was a flurry of movement as Estel laid out Elrohir’s cloak and Legolas pulled a short dagger out of his boot, only pausing a moment to regret cutting into the rich, beautiful cloth before tearing the first long strip. While the prince quickly turned the cloak into a pile of strips, Estel dumped out the contents of his own small pack and began stuffing the strips into it, planning to use it to lower them and a few other supplies to Elrohir.

Just a short while after he’d called up, Elrohir saw the pack being lowered over the edge of the rock and he reached up and caught it deftly. Focused only on caring for his twin, he emptied the pack and then quickly, but efficiently, wrapped his brother’s torso as tightly as he could without hurting him.

Next, using the rope that Legolas had insisted he put around himself, Elrohir fashioned a sling under Elladan’s arms and when he was confident it would hold him without causing undue strain, Elrohir called up to the others to begin pulling the injured elf up. He eased Elladan up as far as his arms could reach and then, disregarding Legolas’ certain disapproval for climbing without using the second rope, he slowly made his way up the wall alongside his brother, helping to guide his ascent and keep him from being bruised or bumped any more than necessary.

When he got near the top, eager hands pulled Elladan the rest of the way up while Elrohir scrambled up by himself, giving Legolas an apologetic look when the prince glanced at the unused second rope in annoyance. Then he knelt down and turned his attention once more to his twin.

“Are you certain he will be all right?” asked Estel, hovering over Elrohir’s shoulder.

“Aye,” he answered distractedly. “Although I will be glad when we get him back to camp. I need several items stored there to finish caring for his injuries.”

The younger twin reached forward and brushed the hair away from Elladan’s face, his hand trembling slightly as he did so. His training told him that his brother would be fine, but fatigue, worry, and that unpleasant encounter with the rats had unnerved him and found himself disheartened that, even though he was finally reunited with Elladan, it would still be long hours before he could sit and have a quiet conversation with his twin.

It was only when he pulled his hand back and saw that he’d left a red streak on Elladan’s face that Elrohir noticed his hand was covered in blood. He looked at it stupidly and then his eyes flew back to Elladan, wondering if, through carelessness, he’d allowed his brother to receive a fresh wound. He started to lean forward to check for additional injuries when Estel’s voice stopped him.

“Elrohir, you’re bleeding,” Estel said with concern. Despite his ambivalent feelings regarding his brother, he couldn’t help but be dismayed to see Elrohir hurt.

The younger twin looked again at his hand, almost in a daze—in his worry about Elladan, he had actually forgotten the rat bites. Now that he paused to consider his own state, however, he realized that not only were there several large gashes on his hand, but his head and back hurt far more than anything else. Pain aside, however, when he looked at his hand with the dark crusted blood mixed with bright red fresh blood, he shuddered as he unwillingly remembered falling to the ground only to be covered with swarming, biting rats. Obviously, climbing up the wall had reopened the earlier wounds and it was once more bleeding freely. He grabbed a short scrap of cloth that was a leftover from his cloak and wound it quickly around his hand, dismissing unwelcome memories by saying tensely, “’Tis just a small bite, Estel. Naught but a scratch and nothing to worry about. It is Elladan we must be focusing on now.”

“Nay, it does not even hurt,” he said before changing the subject abruptly. “I really must properly care for Elladan’s injuries as soon as possible, so we should start our journey back immediately. I will carry him, if you two will lead the way.”

With those words, Elrohir picked up his brother and stood, looking at his companions impatiently. Now that he had Elladan, thinking once again about the rats reminded him just how much he hated this underground hell and he wanted to get out!

Legolas and Estel exchanged quick glances at Elrohir’s hurried actions—mere moments ago they were pulling Elladan up and now Elrohir was ready to rush off. Still, he was the healer so if he thought Elladan was ready to be moved, they were not about to question him. Somewhat bemused by the sudden turn of events, Legolas picked up his small pack as well as Elrohir’s, motioned for Estel to pick up the torch, and without further word, headed back the way they’d come.

The group started across the cavern and quickly reached the small tunnel where they had entered it. Legolas and Estel of one accord paused and looked back at Elrohir, uncertain about reentering the tunnel which must still contain any number of rats.

Elrohir himself, however, glared at the two. His insides may be twisted in knots at the thought of once more facing those horrid little beasts, but with Elladan in his arms, there was no power on Arda that would keep him from taking his twin to safety.

Sharing another wordless look, Legolas and Estel seemed to come to a decision and the two moved into the small passage, Legolas in the lead with Estel behind carrying the torch. Elrohir followed with Elladan in his arms, once more ignoring the rats as they scurried amongst his feet. However when he stepped on one accidentally and it shrieked in a high-pitched tone, he stopped dead, pulled despite himself once again back to a time of despair and darkness. Some of his distress must have found its way to his twin, though, for Elladan at that moment made a murmuring sound and turned his head to rest more firmly on his brother’s shoulder. Drawn out of the past by the motion, Elrohir looked down at the motionless form in his arms and after a deep breath, once again walked forward through the tunnel.

The small group continued through the passages, moving quicker than their initial journey now that they no longer had to search for signs of Elladan and go down every side passage in hopes of finding him. Still, it took them at least another day to make their way out of the darkness, but at last the exhausted group left the caves and walked back out into the early afternoon sun. Its warmth and light were a relief as they raised their faces to bask in the sun’s welcoming glow, thankful to be out of the cold damp underground. They were not able to rest yet, however, as they still had to journey to the camp that they’d set up outside town. Another hour passed before they finally reached the camp and Elrohir carefully lowered Elladan to the ground before collapsing wearily next to Legolas and Estel.

At first, no one moved. While Elrohir savored the opportunity to do absolutely nothing, in the back of his mind he knew that he should be going through his packs and finding the supplies to finish caring for Elladan’s wounds. But…he was beyond tired, beyond exhausted. He had tapped into his reserves long ago and they were used up as well. His head was pounding as he slumped against a tree, too weary to even make himself comfortable as the rough bark jabbed into his bruised back. Too many days of worry and no sleep accompanied by that grueling journey underground had been followed by carrying his brother while his back became more and more painful…well now that it was all over he wasn’t sure he had any energy left and so he just sat, staring unseeing.

It was only when Elladan stirred and looked over at him blearily that Elrohir conjured up a small smile for his twin and from somewhere found the will to move. Elladan needed him. His fatigue would just have to wait.

Elladan squinted up at his twin as he tried to piece together just where he was and what had happened. Finally deciding that his throbbing head wasn’t going to let him do that quite yet, he settled for merely answering quietly, “Aye.”

Elrohir patted his shoulder gently and said, “I take it you are not feeling quite yourself, are you? Relax for a bit and we will have you feeling better shortly.”

Nodding was out of the question—even thinking of moving his head made him queasy—so Elladan murmured once again, “Aye,” and closed his eyes as he drifted asleep, knowing that whatever had befallen him, he could trust Elrohir to take care of things until he was feeling a bit less like he’d been squashed by a troll.

Both Legolas and Estel had heard the short exchange and came over to greet Elladan, but he had already fallen back asleep by the time they reached his side. Disappointed, but understanding, they stood off to the side waiting to see if they could be of use.

Elrohir didn’t address them immediately, as it took a moment for his tired brain to decide what it was he needed them to do. Crushing fatigue was making it hard to think, so he looked at them both blankly for a bit before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. With a deep sigh, he said wearily, “I will need to properly treat Elladan’s injuries now that I have my supplies. While I focus on that, could you please build a fire and…and perhaps prepare something to eat as well? I am not certain I have the stomach for food, but when Elladan awakens again, he may be in need of a hot meal.”

Legolas murmured his concurrence and quietly began to clear away a spot where he could dig a fire pit. Estel didn’t move, however, and instead stood looking, not at Elladan, but at Elrohir with an expression that the younger twin couldn’t read. The look on Estel’s face was perplexing, but the tired elf simply didn’t have the energy to figure out what was going on in the boy’s mind, so he prompted a touch impatiently, “Estel?…”

Startled back into awareness, Estel adopted a neutral expression and said quickly, “I will gather some wood,” before rushing off to accomplish his task.

For awhile, no one spoke as the group went about their respective chores and the only sounds were those of each of them quietly working. Elrohir tended to Elladan’s injuries, Legolas worked on the fire pit, and Estel came and went as he brought twigs and branches for the fire.

It wasn’t long before Elladan once again stirred, this time pulled out of that comfortable haziness by a sharp, grinding pain in his side. Something was biting him! His eyes flew open in alarm and he tried to rise, but was held down by a careful, yet firm hand.

The injured elf responded instantly to the command and relaxed, for not only was the voice as familiar to him as his own, but the tone was uncannily like his father’s when dealing with unmanageable patients. The resemblance made him want to smile, although he didn’t dare. Elrohir was usually a very amiable sort, but even through his fog Elladan sensed that for some reason his brother wouldn’t be in the mood to share in the humor.

He was distracted momentarily from Elrohir’s ministrations when both Legolas and Estel came over, noticing that he was once more awake. He took the time to greet each of them before a warning look from Elrohir shooed the others away.

Elladan lay quietly while his twin worked, concentrating on keeping his nausea under control as well as making no sounds of pain as Elrohir began the careful process of binding his ribs. His indrawn breath on a couple of occasions were a clear enough indication, however, that he was finding the ordeal rather trying, so Elrohir stopped what he was doing and rummaged through his packs, finally pulling out a small pouch which Elladan eyed longingly. He had a matching one and knew exactly what was in it—a good selection of dried leaves amongst which there were several that could be used to treat a variety of ailments.

He made no protest when Elrohir handed him a few to chew, not even when the bitter taste made him want to gag. Almost immediately, the nausea began to recede and the pain in his side lessened dramatically. It was only then that he truly began to take notice of the others and sensed an unusual tension. There wasn’t anything he could put his finger on exactly, but his rescuers were simply too quiet. The usual friendly banter or even regular conversation was missing entirely from the somber group. Either there was more wrong with him than he thought, or something else had happened. As the herbs pushed the pain farther into the background, he began to feel concerned.

Finally he broke the unnatural quiet when he asked, “What is it, Ro? You and the others seem…unsettled. What happened? Clearly you found me—was there a fight? Were any of you injured?” he concluded with a touch of alarm.

Elrohir knew his brother shouldn’t be worrying himself about anything right now and continued to dress Elladan’s wounds while answering calmly, “Legolas and Estel are fine. And it seems you got yourself away from those men, so there was no fight. Now you lie quietly while I see to your wounds, hmmn? Save your strength and no more talking.”

Elrohir’s words caused Elladan to wonder...how had he managed to escape from the men? He thought back, finding it hard to remember much other than never-ending darkness, pain, and loneliness. Then the pieces started to fall back into place. Ignoring his brother’s order to lie quietly without talking, he said, “I did nothing to escape from the men…they simply left me, knowing it was too dark to find my own way out. And they were right. It was so dark in the cave that I became lost and I could not find the path. I had no torch, so I could only feel my way and I…I fell...a few times. That is where I gained most of my injuries, truly,” he admitted bit shamefully, “not from anything the men did to me. In truth, they were idiots who acted before they thought through the consequence of their actions. I do not believe they ever had any real intent of hurting me, being more foolish than evil.”

Elrohir didn’t respond at first, not feeling quite as generous to those who had threatened his twin and then left him to his fate in the tunnels. For his twin’s sake, however, he made an effort to sound lighthearted and said with a faint smile, “Then you most certainly should lie still and let me tend to those injuries you heaped upon yourself. If you are not healed by the time we get home, you will have to tell Ada how you managed to injure yourself and he will not allow us out of his sight for years. It will be your fault if we are treated like elflings for decades.”

Elladan lightly scowled at his twin. True or not, it was irritating to be reminded of how some of their previous exploits had landed them in trouble with their father, who had a tendency to treat them as elflings every time they came home in less than perfect condition. He was about to say something grumpy back to Elrohir when he saw his twin wince when he reached back for a jar of healing paste. Realizing that Elrohir had never answered whether or not he’d been injured, Elladan carefully studied him, seeing for the first time the rips in his clothes, the crude bandage wrapped around his hand, and the stiff way he held himself. Not in any mood for subtlety and happy enough to redirect the conversation away from the cause of his own injuries, he asked bluntly, “So, how were you injured?”

Elrohir paused for a moment before answering as lightly as before, “I am fine. You need to be worrying about yourself, brother. Concentrating on healing and resting.”

Elladan wasn’t convinced by his brother’s easy words. Elrohir was just plain daft if he thought he could hide things from him. Determined not to be put off, he challenged, “That is no answer. Your hand is bandaged and I can see many other small wounds…”

“Just scratches,” said Elrohir with a slight shrug as he once more started dressing his brother’s wounds.

“From carrying around a lump of a brother,” said Elrohir with a touch of a grin.

“Fatigue,” dismissed his brother, starting to frown as he continued to work.

“No doubt from that same fatigue or hunger,” Elrohir countered from between tightly clenched teeth, his tone warning Elladan to cease.

“Enough!” roared Elrohir, throwing the cloth he had in his hand to the ground and glaring at his brother. Feeling three sets of eyes on him, Elrohir took a deep breath and finished in an annoyed voice, “Anyone would be tense if they had a dimwit of a brother who prattled on when he should be resting. Now be still and let me tend to your injuries before I am tempted to give you new ones!”

One look at his twin’s face and Elladan lay back quickly, kicking himself mentally. Although Elrohir’s threat was delivered in jest, it was clear that the younger twin was genuinely upset. Elladan closed his eyes with a wince for his own stupidity. He should have known better. Maybe he could blame the concussion for scrambling his brain, because he normally was much better at handling his brother. He could tell that Elrohir was deeply troubled by something, but needling him was the wrong way to find out what. From long experience, Elladan knew that Elrohir could be uncommonly stubborn at times and if he were truly upset, pressing him would only make him withdraw into himself, becoming impossible to reach. The prudent thing, therefore, was to simply do as Elrohir asked and rest while his twin calmed down.

For long minutes, no one said anything as Elrohir continued to work silently, giving Elladan a chance to relax and let his thoughts float as one-by-one his injuries were tended. Elladan also had to admit that it felt good to simply lay back and let Elrohir take care of him. It wasn’t the first time he was grateful for his twin’s skill as a healer and after Elrohir had finished rewrapping his ribs in real bandages and properly treating his shoulder, he sighed in relief. The lessening of pain was such a welcome change after days of crawling about injured in the darkness.

Elrohir noted a bit of color return to Elladan’s face and felt some of his own tension recede as Elladan relaxed. “Feeling better?” he asked quietly, lightly squeezing Elladan’s forearm, causing the injured elf to open his eyes and smile up at his brother.

Elrohir shook his head as he started to clean some of his brother’s smaller cuts and scrapes. “Since when is there a need for thanks between us?” he asked solemnly.

Elladan smiled again at his brother, but his smile faded when he noted that Elrohir wouldn’t meet his eyes. Taking the opportunity try again to dig for answers to his twin’s obvious unhappiness, Elladan reached up and grabbed Elrohir’s hand, stopping him for the moment. “Perhaps there isn’t a need, but I am grateful to you for coming for me, especially into that cave. I know it cannot have been easy for you, Ro, and I am sorry my carelessness caused you to have to endure yet another trip underground. I hope it was not particularly unpleasant?”

Elrohir didn’t pull his hand away, but shrugged, trying to make light of the endless days he had walked through the darkness, feeling like the walls would close in and suffocate him while he watched every dark hole for swarms of rats. “I cannot pretend to you I enjoyed it, but Legolas and Estel were with me…and we had torches to light our way. Did you really expect me to not come for you?”

“No,” Elladan answered softly. “In truth I would expect nothing else. I knew it was only a matter of time before you found me. But I still wish you had not had to go down there.”

Elrohir nodded and met Elladan’s eyes for just a moment before turning away. It was fleeting, but it was enough for Elladan to see a haunted look in those eyes that Elrohir couldn’t completely mask. Hating to see Elrohir distressed in any way, the older brother in Elladan wanted nothing more than to confront his twin again and demand to know what was upsetting him. However, he didn’t want to cause him any further grief, so he swallowed whatever he might have said and decided to say nothing more for now, laying quietly while Elrohir finished cleaning and caring for the rest of his injuries.

After Elrohir had completed everything he could do, tucked Elladan under a blanket, and had put away his supplies, he sat at his brother’s side, wanting to be near him, but looking a bit lost with no further tasks to distract him. This tense silence went on for awhile, but at last, unable to watch his brother’s distress without doing anything, Elladan decided the best way he could help his twin was to find a way for him to unwind and regain his inner peace.

Knowing he was being very obvious but hoping that Elrohir would not take offense, Elladan said, “Elrohir, I was just thinking…could you possibly go to the river and catch some fresh fish for dinner? I am famished, as I have not eaten in days. It would help me regain my strength and I would be ever so grateful…” he finished with the same pleading look he had tried to use on their parents when they were small.

Elrohir raised an eyebrow at Elladan’s fake look of pleading and fought a smile. He wasn’t fooled for a moment. He knew Elladan was trying to give him a graceful excuse to go off on his own, but understanding that Elladan had an ulterior motive didn’t make him any less appreciative of the chance to sit by the peaceful river and soak up some of its peace himself. With gratitude in his eyes, he played along and said, “Aye…if it is fish you desire, I will catch you the biggest, fattest one I can find. That is, only if you promise to rest while I am gone,” he added.

After gaining Elladan’s promise that he’d take it easy and reassuring himself that his brother would be fine if he left for awhile, Elrohir pulled out a hook and fishing line from one of his packs and was turning to leave when his eyes fell on his little brother, now sitting against a tree and watching the twins intently. Estel had been curiously silent ever since Elladan’s rescue and Elrohir berated himself for not taking better care of the young man—he had been consumed with the need to care for his injured twin and felt bad that he’d neglected Estel in the meantime. The teenager was seldom so silent, and Elrohir was concerned that Estel had been upset by the whole ordeal.

Pushing aside his own desperate need for time alone, Elrohir called over, “Estel, our famished brother has asked for fish for dinner and I have promised to catch him a nice fat one. Would you care to join me?”

The young man’s response caught the three elves completely by surprise. Now that the immediate crisis was over and he’d had time to think about Elrohir’s actions in the cave, he’d once more been consumed with disgust, so with unveiled scorn in his voice, Estel answered, “You wish someone to go with you? Why, Elrohir? Afraid it’s going to be dark soon?...that you might run into something out there? Who knows what might be lurking about—there may even be field mice skulking about in these woods.”

His elven brother stood like a statue, not believing he’d heard correctly. Never had he ever heard Estel use that condescending tone on anyone, let alone anyone in the family. It just wasn’t his way. But then Elrohir looked into his brother’s face and knew that he hadn’t imagined it. The eyes that had always shone with love and respect now held a disturbing mix of contempt, disgust, disappointment, and even anger. Elrohir literally felt himself grow cold as he came to terms with what his little performance in the caves had cost him. His beloved brother had seen his reaction to the rats and, as a consequence, had lost all respect for him. It might even cost him Estel’s love. Elrohir couldn’t believe how cold and empty that made him feel.

He opened his mouth to respond, but initially no sound came out. He tried again and the second time, he was more successful even though his voice was barely audible. “Perhaps…” he said woodenly, “perhaps it would be better if I went alone.” And before anyone could say anything else, the stricken elf turned and vanished into the forest.

Estel’s eyes followed the elf as he stood grim-faced, staring down the path where his brother had disappeared. A piece of him felt satisfied—he had felt a certain power in putting Elrohir in his place and letting him know that he did not approve of cowardly behavior. His moment of contentment was short-lived, however. His budding feelings of satisfaction started to slip away as Elrohir’s face flashed before his mind’s eye and he once again saw the look of shock, hurt, and finally pained acceptance on his brother’s face. Estel knew he had hurt the younger twin like never before and something inside him was saying that he had been very, very wrong to do so.

Before he could decide how to respond to that pang of remorse, however, he suddenly felt himself being bodily lifted from the ground and then shoved back against the tree. In shock, he jerked his head up to find that he was staring into the furious eyes of his oldest brother.

Estel’s shock at being manhandled by his enraged brother chased away any regrets and his mood shifted quickly to anger as he shot back defensively, “You didn’t see him in the cave, Elladan. He was scared! Elrohir was scared!” he finished contemptuously.

Elladan didn’t let his squirming brother go, but turned his head to Legolas and demanded, “What happened?”

Legolas had raced over after Elladan when he saw the older twin kick off his blankets and fly over to Estel. He knew that Elladan shouldn’t even be sitting up right now, let alone using all his energy to hold up his youngest brother. Hoping to calm the situation down, he said quietly, “It was a rather tense time, Elladan. Days of endless searching in the darkness and then…near the end, we encountered a rather large group of rats. I did not see exactly what happened, but apparently some caught Elrohir by surprise. They…upset him.”

“Damn,” he breathed in dismay, slowly sinking to his knees as his injuries caught up with him. He closed his eyes in heartfelt sorrow as he imagined Elrohir once more facing his nightmare without him. Not again. He had been hoping it was just being in the cave that was bothering him. Not more rats. “Oh, Elrohir,” he whispered.

Estel, misreading Elladan’s reaction as a confirmation of his own feelings, said triumphantly, “Now you see what I was talking about. He was scared!”

Estel’s words brought Elladan’s focus back to his littlest brother and he said harshly, “I expect he was. Your point?”

At the angry words, Estel pushed to his feet and scowled—surely Elladan wasn’t mad at him when he should be upset with Elrohir’s behavior! He crossed his arms in front of him and hissed, “Maybe you are not bothered since you did not see, but I am ashamed to think of my brother as a coward.”

Struggling to his feet as he was overcome by rage, Elladan grated out, “A coward? Elrohir?! You are not only arrogant but a fool as well! How dare you?”

Estel backed up a step, for the first time in his life actually fearing his brother. He had never seen such anger directed at him and didn’t know what to do. Even injured, Elladan could be hugely intimidating. Then, like an unexpected savior, a calm voice interjected, “Elladan, you need to rest. It will not help Elrohir if he comes back to find you have further injured yourself. You promised him.”

Elladan whipped his head around, ready to tell Legolas exactly where he could put his suggestion when the quick movement made him dizzy and he nearly passed out. The world spiraled around him, dousing his rage like nothing else could and with great effort he choked out, “Legolas…I…I…”

Legolas quickly grabbed his swaying friend, whose face had suddenly lost all color. Ignoring Estel, he easily picked Elladan up and carried the semi-conscious elf back to the soft pile of blankets that had been prepared for him earlier. Laying Elladan back down, he shook his head. “That was foolish,” he scolded gently. “Elrohir would have your ears if he had seen you.”

Elladan drew in an unsteady breath and nodded, but as the dizziness faded, his anger began to spark again as he remembered what had pulled him from his bed. In a weak, but hard voice, he said, “Aye, but Estel…”

Legolas hushed Elladan by lightly covering his mouth. Then with a shake of his head as warning, he removed his hand and thought quickly before speaking. He, too, had been shocked at Estel’s words and could only imagine how Elrohir had taken them. But he was also sure that Elrohir would feel even worse if Elladan did more damage to himself on his behalf, so his first duty was to calm down the still-upset elf. Soothingly, he said, “Never mind him right now. Estel is very young and needs to be taught a few lessons, not the least of which are compassion and respect.” Then almost reluctantly, he added, “But I have seen these past weeks that he is a good lad. He is in all probability regretting his words and he will make things right with Elrohir when he sees him.”

Elladan shook his head slightly. Legolas didn’t know Estel like he did—the young man did have a good heart, but was not known for saying things he didn’t mean. He would have to be made to understand before he backed away from his stand. He would have to be told.

Elladan groaned lightly as he thought about telling the tale of Elrohir’s earliest encounter with rats. It was a long story and he didn’t feel up to telling it right now. Right now his body was screaming for him to close his eyes and let the beckoning darkness pull him in. Maybe if he closed his eyes for just a moment he could gain enough strength and then he could play big brother and make Estel understand. Aye...if he could close his eyes for just a moment. Elladan felt his eyes droop shut and with a sigh, allowed himself to start to drift away. When he felt himself actually falling asleep, however, he momentarily fought it, not wanting to give in completely. Then utter weariness finally overcame the injured elf and his head fell to the side as he slipped into a deep, healing sleep.

“Sleep well, my friend,” said Legolas softly as he tucked the blankets around Elladan. He smiled a bit sadly as he stood up. This was not at all what he’d imagined when he’d decided to visit the brothers in Rivendell. Elladan was injured, Elrohir was upset, and Estel was sulking. What a mess. At least Elladan was resting peacefully for at the moment, Elrohir was hopefully finding solace by the river, and Estel…well, now that Elladan was asleep, Legolas could admit to himself that he was still angry with Estel and was content to let the boy sulk for awhile.

While Legolas had been tending to Elladan, Estel simply watched them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so upset. For hours he had been reeling from seeing his ‘fearless’ brother so shaken by some silly little rats, and now he still felt that flutter of shocked fear that had accompanied having Elladan’s full fury directed at him. Certainly he’d irritated the twins from time to time over the years, but he couldn’t remember either of them actually being angry with him before and the experience left him more upset than he’d like to admit.

He stood there, silently watching as Legolas made sure Elladan was comfortable. On one level, Estel wanted to join them and smooth things over with Elladan—to make him understand so he wouldn’t be so angry. But he also wasn’t ready to back down, so when he saw Elladan close his eyes and go to sleep, he gladly accepted the excuse to not say anything for now and instead went to gather some wood for the fire.

When he returned, Legolas was again working on the fire pit, clearing away brush and rimming the shallow hole with stones.

The young teenager approached Legolas a bit hesitantly. Estel had calmed himself down while gathering wood and now struggled with what to say to the elf. Not only was he appalled that Legolas had witnessed Elrohir’s behavior in the cave, but he was also not very happy that the prince had heard Elladan berating him. He was desperate to distance himself from the shame of both events and decided at the very least he needed to show his new friend that he didn’t approve of Elrohir’s cowardice.

Estel said quietly, trying not to arouse Elladan, “I should have known Elladan would take his side. They always do. Maybe if he’d seen what we did he would think differently.” When he got no response from Legolas, who kept silently building the fire pit, he added conspiratorially, “You know what I speak of. You saw him as well as I. Elrohir is no warrior. He was afraid.”

But Estel was in for one final, major disappointment. Legolas had been trying not to say anything to the boy, feeling that it was a family matter between Estel and the twins, but now he could no longer hold his tongue. He turned to Estel with an angry glare and hissed quietly, also aware of the sleeping Elladan, “Yes, he was afraid, but that does not make him any less a warrior. How is it you do not comprehend? Clearly I overestimated your maturity. Up until now, I was able to forget what a child you are, but it is clear from your lack of understanding and your callous words that you are no more than a squawling babe who should have been left home in the nursery. I have no interest in hearing you speak with such disrespect for your brother, so be quiet and leave me in peace!” And then he turned his back on the astonished young man.

Shocked into silence by an overwhelming onslaught of emotions, Estel dropped his wood with a clatter, stalked over to the packs, and then began randomly yanking out the things they would need to prepare dinner. Pride smarting from Legolas’ words, upset with Elladan, and…and unable to sort out what he was feeling with regards to Elrohir, Estel was awash with an almost uncontrollable desire to break something.

As he continued to throw the contents of the pack onto the ground, he allowed the anger to grow until it overshadowed everything else and suddenly knew he had to get out of there. Yes, he should have known they all would stick up for each other. After all, they were elves and he was just a human…no, a “child” according to Legolas. Well perhaps it was time for this “child” to part company with them. Perhaps he no longer wanted to hear any of them either!

He marched over to his own pack but before he could do more than pick it up, he heard the weak voice of his brother call over, “Estel, put your pack down before you do something stupid.”

Not even caring that he had woken his brother, he seethed with anger. Now he was being stupid? He shook his head and snapped, “Why should I stay here with you? You are all upset with me and I have done nothing wrong. Elrohir was the one who acted badly in the cave, and yet I am accused of being a child. Elrohir was the one who behaved as a child, not me! But you refuse to see that and berate me for speaking the truth. So I am done traveling with you. I am going home.”

“Alone? I think not,” said Elladan, struggling to get an elbow beneath him. Once again becoming dizzy from expending too much effort, he called breathlessly, “Legolas, if he tries to leave, stop him. Sit on him if you must.”

Legolas nodded in response to Elladan’s request and took a step menacingly toward the angry teenager.

“No! I will not stay. I am certainly old enough to go home alone. If you stop me now, I’ll...I’ll just wait until you aren’t watching and leave then,” he threatened.

“Estel! Estel...just...just hold still a moment,” Elladan finished tiredly, unable to sustain even the energy it took to scold his brother.

He laid back and allowed the fatigue to ease away the rest of his anger with the lad. In fact, if he hadn’t been so sore and tired, Elladan might have found his little brother’s open defiance somewhat amusing. Estel was usually a good-tempered lad and this rebellion was such a departure from his normal behavior that it was almost funny. However, Elladan was exhausted, he was aching from head to toe, and he was worried about Elrohir—it was all he could to do try to think of a way to calm Estel down and he wasn’t about to make things worse by saying so and further annoying the boy.

For just a moment, he flung his bandaged right arm over his face, wishing he could drift back into blessed, pain-free oblivion. But he knew it wasn’t an option and dropped his arm back to his side as he decided, “Legolas, he will have to be made to understand. He must be told about what happened when we were children. Would you help me up? I cannot tell the story from the flat of my back.”

The elven prince looked over at the fuming young man, who still stood with his pack in his hands while scowling at the elves. Legolas considered the ill-tempered teenager carefully. He really liked Estel and saw in him the beginnings of a great friend, but right now he was upset with the youngster. It took a lot for the prince to lose his temper, but for once that threshold had been crossed and he was having a hard time keeping himself from giving Estel another tongue-lashing. He knew the courage it had taken for Elrohir to continue through those passages with rats scurrying underfoot and also knew how Estel’s contemptuous words must have hurt his long-time friend. And now his childish defiance was beyond irritating. He knew that Elladan was right, though. In the first place, the young man couldn’t be allowed to wander about the forests alone and in the second place, there was Elrohir to consider—if Estel could be made to understand, an apology could go a long way to help ease the younger twin’s darkened spirits.

Legolas went over to Elladan and started to help him up, but almost instantly realized that his friend really should remain lying down. Elladan looked so drained—the injured elf clearly shouldn’t be sitting up and Legolas gently laid him back down and said quietly, “You rest for now. I will tell Estel what he needs to know.” Then he turned to the young man. “Estel, come here,” he ordered, trying to keep any lingering irritation out of his voice. “I have a story to tell you.”

Estel regarded the elven prince through narrowed eyes and debated how to answer. Honestly, he didn’t feel like being subjected to some ‘story’—one that no doubt was supposed to justify Elrohir’s reactions in the cave. He simply wasn’t interested in hearing it. He knew that nothing he could erase the image of Elrohir in that cave. His brother had been scared. Just remembering it made him sick. He shook his head in disgust and turned to walk away, but a sharp voice stopped him.

The elven lord’s no-nonsense voice rang through the clearing. It wasn’t one that Elladan often used on his brothers, but even Elrohir had been known to heed the commanding tone when it was turned on him. Shocked by the strong voice coming from his injured brother, Estel stopped in his tracks and then, almost against his will, he found himself walking over to the fire and taking a seat by Legolas.

Amused despite the grim situation, Legolas sent an appreciative glance over to Elladan, glad that the other elf had never spoken to him in quite that way. As a prince in his own lands, he would be under no obligation to obey one of Rivendell’s young lords, but anyone would be hard-pressed to ignore the authoritative tone and he was glad that he had never been put to the test.

Glancing over to satisfy himself that the Elladan was still resting comfortably and hadn’t foolishly tried to get up, Legolas then turned to Estel, his mind shifting to what he should say.

Ignoring his remaining desire to give Estel a tongue lashing he’d never forget, Legolas paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and then began his story, “This takes place many years ago, when I made my first trip to Rivendell with my parents. Delegations from several of the elven settlements were meeting to discuss signs that a great evil was stirring, although at the time I was unaware of the purpose of the gathering. I was just a small elfling at the time, so I was simply pleased with the chance to see new lands and to meet the twins, of whom I had heard many interesting things. I was about…oh, perhaps five or six in human years at the time as were they, for they are but a few months younger than me. I was filled with anticipation, for warriors who had visited Rivendell related many stories of two rather rambunctious elflings, so I was certain that we would have great fun together.”

The elven prince’s face lightened as he remembered back to the early days of his visit. “After I met Elladan and Elrohir and had spent just a short time with them, I decided that our warriors had not done them justice…I knew I was skilled at finding trouble, but with the pair of them to constantly prod each other along, there was no end to the mischief they could find. So, as one who tended to find a bit of mischief myself, after just a short while I knew that I had found two kindred spirits,” he concluded with a grin.

With a warm look for Elladan, Legolas regarded his old friend and nodded, “Aye, we were inseparable from the moment I arrived and I am sure our antics must have driven our parents to distraction, but those weeks formed the core of our friendship—a friendship which has never faltered, even to this day.”

He shook his head slightly and smiled as he remembered some of the things the three of them had done, realizing now just how patient their parents had truly been with the three lively, sometimes naughty elflings. But then came the event that changed the whole nature of his visit.

Legolas’ smile slipped away and he sighed as he looked back at Estel, who at least had lost that angry expression as he listened to the prince’s story with interest. Legolas knew what Elladan expected him to tell the young man, but this was not one of the memories that he usually liked to reflect upon. Looking seriously at the dark-haired teenager, Legolas said, “But strong as our fledgling friendship was, we were very young and had a silly argument. It is that argument that led to the events in my story. The day started out like the others before it, with three little elflings trying to decide on our plans for the day….”

The royal sons of Rivendell and Greenwood sprawled on the floor in the large room that sat between the twins’ bed chambers. For days now, it had become a planning center as the three cooked up a series of tiny escapades, as often as not ending up with them in trouble as the unsuspecting inhabitants of Rivendell fell victim to their high-spirited mischief.

Usually the three of them were in perfect accord and would quickly agree with any idea, but on this morning they hit a snag. Elladan and Legolas were adamant about wanting to watch the warriors practice archery, but Elrohir, having had his fill of scolding recently, was equally determined not to go.

“Elladan, you know we are not allowed in the training grounds without an adult. We would be in big trouble if we were caught,” warned the younger twin.

“We would only be watching. No one would see us,” argued his brother impatiently. Usually he could count on Elrohir to be his enthusiastic partner in whatever he dreamed up, but every once in awhile his brother would think too hard about things, become overly cautious, and then end up just plain obstinate.

“Ada told us last time that we had best not go there again without permission. You remember how angry he was,” countered Elrohir determinedly. He wanted to see the archers as well, but someone had to be the voice of reason.

The little blond prince sat between the two, holding his tongue while he waited for Elladan to persuade Elrohir. He had been the one to propose this idea to the twins, so he, too, was becoming frustrated with Elrohir and wished the younger twin wouldn’t be so hesitant.

“Elrohir,” finally said Elladan in his most irritating big-brother-to-little-brother kind of voice, “Legolas and I are both older than you and so you just have to trust us now. Nothing would happen. We would sneak through the trees and watch the archers from above as they practiced. No one would catch us and no one would get in trouble, so stop worrying and being such a fusspot!”

Elrohir hated it when his twin treated him like this. Just because of a quirk of fate, he would always be the “younger” twin. It wasn’t fair. He was just as old as Elladan. Really he was. And for Elladan to imply that he was acting like some worrisome sissy was adding insult to injury. Standing up and putting his fists on his hips, he said angrily, “I am not a fusspot. You’re being stupid. It is dangerous to go to the practice grounds. Ada said!”

Elladan stood up, toe-to-toe with his brother, his temper flaring to hear Elrohir call him stupid in front of their friend. “Ada said…Ada said,” repeated Elladan with a slight sneer. “You know what you are—an Ada’s boy!”

“Am not!” shouted Elrohir, unable to keep a small touch of hurt from threading its way into his voice. Why was Elladan faulting him for trying to be good? Why couldn’t they obey their father and simply find something else to do? His dark brows scowled as he glared at Elladan, now determined that nothing his brother could say would make him change his mind.

Legolas, seeing that things were fast getting out of hand, stood up and shoved his way between the two. He gave Elladan a quick look that he hoped would tell the older twin to be quiet for a minute, and then turned to Elrohir and said coaxingly, “Come, Elrohir. It would be fun and Elladan is right—they would never see us. We can practice creeping through the trees and no one would ever know we were there. Imagine sneaking in right over their heads. We could pretend we were scouts on a patrol, learning our enemy’s strengths.”

The cajoling words might have been enough to persuade Elrohir if he’d been in a better mood, but his pride was still stinging from being called an ‘Ada’s boy’ and he shook his head with a scowl. “You two go if you want. I’m staying here.”

“Don’t you want to learn to be a warrior?” Legolas pressed, feeling the same frustration that Elladan often did when seeing that stubborn look on Elrohir’s face. “In Greenwood, we are taught that warriors take risks.”

“Well, then it is a good thing that I am going to be a warrior for Rivendell,” countered Elrohir, who was suddenly feeling quite picked upon. “For our warriors are also taught to use their brains!”

Angered by this perceived slight on warriors from his lands, the little prince lost his own temper and was about to explode, but was stopped by Elladan’s hand on his arm.

“Come, he can stay here and find some elleth to make flower chains if he wants. We should go now before someone hears us and Elrohir manages to ruin all our fun,” said Elladan, glaring at his twin the whole time he spoke.

Shaking off Elladan’s hand, the angry little prince stared at Elrohir for a moment and then turned away, stalking out of the room in silence.

The twins looked at each other once Legolas left, unsure what to say. Neither was happy with the way things had transpired, but both were upset and unwilling to make the first gesture. So after a moment of silence, Elladan turned away and said bitterly, “Have fun by yourself,” before he stalked out of the room.

Elladan and Legolas, of course, were caught by the Imladris Guard long before they got anywhere near the practice fields and the two little elflings, much to their embarrassment, were physically carried back by a couple of tall warriors and then turned over to two sets of extremely angry parents. The long, stinging lecture that they received left them both suitably chastened and after they were marched back to the twins’ rooms, the subdued elflings quickly and graciously apologized to Elrohir, who was still sitting there, quietly reading a book.

Elrohir, who had been lonely and was brooding about whether or not he should have gone, was only too happy to make up with the others and was careful to not say anything that sounded even remotely like “I told you so.” He was quietly pleased when his father came in a few minutes later and praised him for using good judgment, but when he was then told to go run outside and play, he tried to politely object. Elladan and Legolas were to be punished by having to spend the rest of the day in the library listening to some ghastly lesson from the twins’ tutor, and Elrohir decided that he’d rather be stuck inside with them than be sent outside alone. Elrond, though, was trying to enforce a lesson with the other two, and didn’t think it would be as clear if Elrohir, who hadn’t disobeyed, shared a punishment he hadn’t earned. Thus, the youngest elf was sent outside to play while Elladan and Legolas glumly went to the library.

Elrohir wandered around by himself for a while, going to all his favorite spots, but he wasn’t in the best of moods and he found them all dull with no one else to share them with. Sometimes he liked to be alone and think his own quiet thoughts, but right now he was just…bored. He plopped down on one of the many wooden benches that lined the walkways of the gardens and scowled grumpily, feeling cheated that he had a beautiful day and no one to spend it with. He crossly decided that he was really the one being punished when he had been trying to be good.

As he sat there, scuffing his feet in the dirt and reflecting on how unfair life could be, he saw two tall boys walk down the path toward him, Johir and Belmandren. Handsome and fun-loving, the two best friends were very popular with the young elves of Rivendell and could always be counted on to liven up any event. They were quite a bit older than the twins, however, and were not known for being especially nice to the littlest elves, so although Elrohir had been wishing for company, he was less than happy when he saw who had found him.

“Well…what do we have here?” asked Johir with a grin. “Or should I say, ‘who’ do we have here? Which one are you?”

Elrohir was uncomfortable. Johir and Belmandren certainly looked friendly enough, but the twins had been the subjects of several of their jokes already and the little elf was wary. Still, he was always one to give people the benefit of the doubt, so he answered quietly, “I am Elrohir.”

“Elrohir?” asked Belmandren, sharing a look with Johir. “And where is your twin and the little prince? The three of you have been joined at the hip since the Greenwood delegation arrived.”

“They are in the house. They…they had other things to do inside,” Elrohir said. He wasn’t about to lie, but he also didn’t think it was these boys’ business that Elladan and Legolas were being punished.

“So you are out here by yourself…all alone,” confirmed Johir with a disturbing grin, taking up the questioning again.

The little elf was definitely starting to worry as he looked at the two grinning elves before him, wishing more than ever that he’d just gone ahead and been bad so he could have been punished along with Elladan and Legolas. The two elves before him were so tall as they towered over him and for a moment he felt like they would swoop down on him in one great rush. Then, dismissing his fears with impatience for his silly imagination, the little elf made himself stay calm. Besides, he was unwilling to show these older boys that they could intimidate him, so he answered as indifferently as he could, “Aye…sometimes I like to be alone.”

Again the two older boys shared a look—one that Elrohir couldn’t understand—and then Belmandren said, “Well, unless you prefer to be alone now, you could come with us. We were thinking about exploring a cave we found and since you have always seemed the adventurous sort, you might enjoy it. Would you like to come?”

Elrohir wasn’t stupid. Something didn’t sound quite right about this offer. The older boys had never invited him to do anything with them…and since when did they consider him the ‘adventurous sort?’ Although in later years he, along with his twin, would become renowned for their bold exploits, for now he was still just a little elf who was known as being the more hesitant of the twins and he was honest enough to admit it to himself. So what were these boys up to? He opened his mouth to decline their invitation, but then Johir said to his friend with a wink that Elrohir couldn’t see, “Nay, Bel, I don’t think he would want to come. He’s too little…he’d get scared.”

Poof! All rational thought fled as the little elf pulled himself as tall as he could. He was still smarting from Elladan calling him an ‘Ada’s boy’ and Legolas implying he’d never be a warrior without taking risks. Not only was his own pride under attack, but he also didn’t want his family’s reputation to be dishonored by letting these big elves think that one of Lord Elrond’s sons was ‘scared.’ With a determined nod, Elrohir stood up and said firmly yet politely, “I would be pleased to join you. Thank you for inviting me.”

Belmandren hid a smile, amused at the formal response coming from such a small elf. It reminded him suddenly, though, that this little fellow wasn’t just any elfling, but a young lord, and perhaps it wouldn’t be the smartest idea to tease him. He and Johir had been on the hunt for a victim for their latest prank and had been amused to think of one of the twins falling into their trap. But looking at the proud stance of the young lordling, he decided that maybe this was a bad idea after all. Turning to Johir, he shook his head rapidly and tried to communicate his reservations with his eyes.

Johir, though, just grinned back and rolled his eyes at his friend, then started down the path and called, “Come, the cave is this way.”

Belmandren frowned slightly. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but then again, he didn’t want his friend to get irritated with him if he ruined things, so Belmandren forced aside lingering concerns as he glanced down at the little elf smiling up at him. After all, he reasoned, what harm could come from a simple prank? It wasn’t like they were going to actually hurt the little fellow. Pasting on a smile, Belmandren patted Elrohir on the shoulder and the two set off after Johir.

As Elrohir walked between Johir and Belmandren, he forgot his own doubts and began to get excited about his part in their upcoming adventure. This was the first time any of the older boys had asked him, specifically, to join them and it gave him a warm, tingly feeling to think that they wanted him with them. Not ‘the twins,’ not ‘Elladan and his brother,’ just him…Elrohir. The little elf couldn’t help but smile with happiness as he skipped along, thinking about going back to the library and relating his tale of exploration to Elladan and Legolas. For once he would be the adventurous one, and he couldn’t wait to share it with them!

This feeling of excitement didn’t go away as they finally reached their destination—a small opening in the rocks at the base of a large hill. Johir turned to him and said quite seriously, “This is it, Elrohir. The entrance to the cave we found. As you can see, it is very dark inside. Are you sure you wish to enter?”

Elrohir got down on his hands and knees and poked his head inside. It did look dark, but the narrow opening gave enough light that he could still make out some of the interior features. With eyes shining, he nodded eagerly, “It looks very interesting. Can I go first?”

He didn’t see the look the two older boys shared and the quick, silent communication between them. He had turned back to the cave entrance and was once more peering inside, trying to determine if that shiny spot in the far corner could be a pool of water. Thus, he missed the rapid, silent argument, and the resulting capitulation from Belmandren, who reluctantly answered Elrohir, “Nay, Johir can go first to make sure it is safe, but you may be next. I will enter last.”

Elrohir looked back and nodded agreeably, backing out of the entrance to let Johir crawl through first. Once the bigger elf went in, he quickly followed and then found himself transported into another world.

His eyes almost immediately adjusted to the dim light and Elrohir gasped in wonder at what he saw. The small entrance had been deceptive, for the cave actually opened up into a large, high room filled with wondrous sights. Large stalactites hung from the ceiling, almost touching a corresponding group of stalagmites that reached up from the floor. And there was a soft plopping sound as drops of water fell off of some other large spikes into the pool that was in the corner, feeding a small stream that trickled along the cave floor. A large column of white rock that looked like it had been dripped from an enormous candle stood at one end of the cavern, its sides glistening with the dampness that still flowed down from above. There was almost too much for him to take in as he spun around in joy. It was an amazing place. Then, as he turned to the wall, he stopped, awestruck. The cave walls on the far side were covered with formations of some kind of crystal—crystal that reflected the natural glow from the elves and caused that end of the cave to shimmer like a fairy land.

Belmandren joined Elrohir and nodded down to him. “It is magnificent,” he agreed with a smile of his own. He, too, loved the quiet beauty of the place and enjoyed the obvious delight of the little elf. For awhile, he forgot the trick that he and Johir had devised and led Elrohir around the cavern, showing him some of his favorite spots, only remembering their plans when Johir came up behind them and suddenly gasped at a small sound.

Elrohir looked up at the two big elves, not exactly worried, but concerned at the expression on Johir’s face.

Belmandren said nothing, but then jerked forward as he felt his friend poke him sharply in the ribs. “Is it rats?” he asked, following the script reluctantly.

“Surely not cave rats,” Johir said in a horrified voice, trying to get his partner into the spirit of the game.

When his friend didn’t follow up with his part, Johir elbowed Belmandren harder this time and prompted, “You remember what we were told about cave rats, don’t you?”

With a mental sigh, Belmandren gave in and worked a bit of fear into his voice as he said, “That was just a story…wasn’t it?”

“I think not. I’ve heard it’s true. We’d best get out of here,” croaked Johir in a shaky voice.

“But what if they’ve trapped us?” Belmandren squeaked fearfully, finally getting into the part.

“Well, perhaps it is just a story and we can still get out,” said Johir, as if he was trying to be courageous.

Elrohir listened to the exchange with growing alarm. If these two big, brave boys were frightened, there must be something really wrong. Anxious to know what was going on, he tugged on Belmandren’s tunic and asked, “What is it they say about cave rats?”

The two older youths exchanged a grin over Elrohir’s head, even Belmandren pleased that they had hooked their little fish. He dropped his voice into a fearful whisper and said with dread, “They say cave rats will do anything for fresh meat. They have even been known to eat elves who get trapped in the darkness. If it is cave rats that we hear scratching along the floor, we may be doomed if they have not yet had their meal today.”

The little elf looked up into Belmandren’s face and then turned to Johir, trying to decide if they were just having fun with him. He had never heard of any such thing as elf-eating cave rats. And these two were known for their flair for drama. If anyone could fake fear, it would be them. With a slight scowl, he shook his head and said, “You are just trying to fool me. There is nothing here that will eat us. If it was dangerous, the guard would have blocked off this entrance.”

Johir was somewhat impressed that Elrohir was thinking things through logically instead of clinging to him in fear, but wasn’t about to let a clever elfling ruin his fun. So, suddenly he yelped in pain and fell down, grabbing his ankle. “It bit me!” he hollered.

For a split second Belmandren thought Johir had actually been injured—his cry was so real—but then he smiled in the dark at his friend’s acting abilities and shouted, “We must get out, now!”

He helped Johir scramble to his feet and the two of them each grabbed one of Elrohir’s hands, pulling him along as they made their way around the edge of the cavern. The little elf stumbled along the uneven floor, trying to keep up, but finally tripped and fell onto his knees, unable to hold back a small cry of his own when he saw from this vantage point that there really were rats scurrying about in the cave. They were real! He allowed the boys to pull him to his feet, but fell again almost immediately since their strides were much longer than his. Then, he felt a pair of hands lift him up and before he could object, they set him up on a high ledge along the cave wall.

“Here,” said Johir’s breathless voice. “You will be safe on this ledge until we get help. The rats cannot climb up the wall to get to you. We are both much larger than you, so we will try to make it through, though you would be an easy target for them. Do not be afraid—we will be right back with some of the guard.”

“Wait…” was all the little elf could say before the two others turned and started to run away without another word. He leaned forward, but then flung himself back when he started to slip off the ledge. In the dim light he couldn’t make out how far down it was to the floor and didn’t want to fall.

“No. Let me come with you,” he shouted after the retreating boys, but his words went unanswered. He called to them as he heard them moving farther away, “Johir! Belmandren! Wait!” But again, they didn’t answer.

“No. Don’t leave me…” he called, his voice drifting off as he realized that they were nowhere near him anymore.

For a few moments, he could hear them moving rapidly through the cave, every once in a while one of them shouting, “It got me again,” or “It’s trying to eat me. Hurry!” And then it was silent except for the constant dripping of the water into the pool and the near-constant sounds of scurrying by the rats that had been disturbed by their presence.

The little elf sat on his ledge, not sure what he should do. Still not completely convinced that the boys weren’t playing a trick on him, he wondered if he should get down and make his own way out, but he also wasn’t completely sure that they weren’t telling the truth. What if those rats really did eat elves? He had nothing with which to fight them and he could tell from the sounds that the cave was full of them. Unable to decide if he was just the latest victim of one of the pair’s infamous tricks, he finally chose to just wait where he was for now, like the big boys had told him.

Elrohir had always been proud of his ability to be very patient when needed, but after a long period of time passed he began to get worried. No one had come back for him. What if those boys hadn’t made it out of the cave? What if they had been killed by the rats? He hadn’t heard them screaming, but maybe the rats killed their victims instantly. His imagination began to work overtime and he began to picture all kinds of horrible fates as he sat there, trying not to fall off the little ledge as he thought about what might have happened to his companions.

Time dragged past when, with nothing else to do, the little elf started to wriggle around on his rock shelf, trying to see if there was some kind of way he could climb along the wall and head toward the shaft of light at the far end of the cave. His explorations soon revealed an unhappy truth, though. The ledge was really no more than a small hollow in the rock and he was unable to scoot more than a few inches in either direction. Somehow knowing that made his stay even worse. He was trapped unless he climbed down and took his chances with the rats.

Frustrated and getting angry now, he crossed his arms in front of him and started kicking the rock with his heels. Anyone who knew him would have been able to recognize the signs of one unhappy elfling. But no one was there to scold him for sulking and after awhile, he couldn’t sustain his anger. With a great sigh, the little elf stopped kicking and dropped his chin onto his chest. He was so tired of being here in the dark! Surely someone would be looking for him now, right? Calling out again, he waited for any kind of answer, but his shout only seemed to stir up the rats, who had finally settled down, so with a shuddering gulp, he was silent.

For an endless amount of time after that, he remained on the ledge, tired, achy, hungry, and becoming more and more scared. He wanted to get down, but it was too dark to see any real definition of the rock walls where he was and he didn’t know just how high up he was. He had already decided that he couldn’t have been too high, since Johir had picked him up and placed him there, but if he hurt himself getting down, he would have a hard time getting out of the cave. And that was his real worry. He could still hear the scratchy sound of the rats’ feet—if the boys had been telling the truth, he shouldn’t chance going down on the floor where the creepy little rodents could bite at him. What should he do? Oh, if only he hadn’t come into this stupid cave! Or if only Elladan had been with him. No matter how much his twin fussed at him and urged him to be more daring, he knew that even when Elladan was frustrated with him, he would never have left him here alone. Moreover, he knew it would be so much easier to be brave if his fearless twin was with him, egging him on.

But Elrohir was wise enough to know that wishing for something wouldn’t make it happen, so he made himself not think of Elladan or he knew he’d end up crying. Finally, when more agonizing time passed without the slighted hint of any rescue party, a small tear did finally roll down the little elf’s face as he realized that for whatever reason, no one was coming for him. Maybe the other boys had purposely left him here or maybe they had been eaten, but either way, he would have to get himself out of this mess. Chewing the edge of his lip anxiously, he tried to think about what Elladan or his parents would do. They would never be trapped in some stupid cave with stupid rats!

Clinging desperately to that thought, Elrohir decided he’d just have to get himself down. He felt better for having decided to do something, so he immediately tried to turn himself around so he could hold on to the ledge as he felt for a foothold. Wriggling as carefully as he could, he managed to get a knee up onto the ledge and then slowly turned his body so he was pressed up against the wall, almost hugging it as he kept himself from falling. The ledge wasn’t very deep, so there wasn’t a lot of room to move around, but he was pleased that he had succeeded in his first step and after a deep breath, slowly slipped his knee off while he held onto the ledge with both arms rigid.

So far so good, he felt around with his feet, looking for anything to support his weight while his arms kept him upright. Finally, he felt a little ridge of some kind and carefully started to lower himself down. The rock wall beneath the ledge was moist and slippery, however, and with a suddenness that shocked him, Elrohir’s foot slipped off the ridge and he had no time to catch himself before he fell. As his chin went past the ledge he’d been sitting on, it clipped the edge and the little elf bit his lip painfully before falling the rest of the way to the floor with a loud clatter as he pulled down some loose rocks.

For a moment the small figure lay there, shocked by the fall as well as the fact that he was no longer trapped on the ledge. Then before he could even catch his breath, he suddenly felt all the little bruises and scrapes that he’d received from his fall as well as the bloody lip that he’d bitten when he hit the ledge.

“Ow…” the little elf whimpered quietly. He wouldn’t let himself cry, but that had really hurt.

As he pushed himself to his knees, ragged breaths and an occasional soft cry made it clear that this small elfling was nearing the end of his rope, but there was no one there to pick him up and carry him out of his dark prison. Left to get himself out of his mess, Elrohir scooted over to a smooth patch of rock and hugged his arms tightly to his chest as he calmed himself down and thought about the best way out of the cave.

He tried to remember the path he and the other boys had taken to get to where he was now, but it was hard to picture. When he’d come into the cave, he had wandered about in a haze of delight, following Belmandren without really watching where he was going. They had climbed over rocks and around deep holes without any sense of danger. But now that he was alone and hurting, the way back seemed treacherous and long and he sat very still as he tried to work out how to get back to the small shaft of light that he knew would lead him outside.

He might have sat there even longer, but jumped up with a gasp when he felt something run over his feet. How could he have for even one moment forgotten the rats? Kicking at it as he backed away, he cried out as he felt it bite him. Then he kicked at it in earnest, only to have the horrid little beast bite him again. No, no, no, no, no!! They had been telling the truth…the rats wanted to eat him! Elrohir scrambled to his feet and then ran as fast as he could, picking himself up each time he tripped, stopping only when he hit another wall with a small crash. He fell to the floor, but then frantically felt the wall in front of him and started to climb up when his hands found sufficient hand holds in the rock before him. Desperate to get away from the elf-devouring creatures, he climbed blindly, without even knowing what awaited him above. Fortunately, after several feet, he found a wide ledge that he could crawl onto and he laid there while he caught his breath, eternally grateful that he was safe from the horrid beasts below.

How long he lay there, Elrohir didn’t know. He was way past being hungry, so he knew he’d been in the cave a long time. What was more disturbing to him, however, was he began to realize that he could no longer see the small shaft of light that showed him the way out. Either he had ended up in some other room in his flight, or maybe it was getting dark outside and the sun no longer reached the small cave entrance. Neither of those answers was one he wanted to accept, though. Either way meant that he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of the pitch darkness, even if he could summon up his courage and chance getting down on the floor again and facing those beastly rats.

Time crawled by for the little elf as he sat himself up on the ledge and tried to feel his way around. He no longer had any sense of where he was other than gravity giving him a basic feel for up and down. Which way was the entrance? How far down was the floor? Or the ceiling for that matter? How could he get out? As he groped around in the darkness, Elrohir got to his hands and knees and started crawling along the rocky ledge, hoping to find something that could help him find the way out. But then his hand slipped on a wet spot on the rock, his elbow banged hard into the rock, and he fell on his face before he could catch himself. That did it. Instead of getting back up, the small elf just stayed where he was and finally gave in to the tears that he could no longer hold inside. He wanted to go home. He wanted his parents to cuddle him and tell him that nothing would eat him. He didn’t even care if Elladan and Legolas laughed at him for being stupid enough to get stuck in a cave. He just wanted out!

“Dan,” the scared little elf cried, “please find me…” He wished with all his might for his twin. Elladan had always been there for him and would get him out of this mess, but once again his wishes went unanswered. He was alone and no one was coming for him. With that despairing thought, Elrohir curled up on the rock ledge and buried his head in his arms, crying from the ache of an unbearable loneliness until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

When he awoke again, Elrohir at first had no idea where he was. He was laying on something very hard and it was very, very dark. More confused than scared, he felt around with his hands until his predicament came flooding back to him in a great rush. *Oh no…it wasn’t just a nightmare!* he thought hopelessly and for a brief moment thought of just laying his head back down in defeat.

His rest had done him good, however, and after that touch of despair, he shook himself mentally and told himself to not be a quitter. Then he sat up, almost smiling as he imagined the lecture that he knew Elladan would give him if he’d been there. ‘No more crying. No more waiting helplessly. He was the son of the great Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian. His grandmother was the amazing Lady Galadriel. His brother was the incredible, magnificent, brave Lord Elladan!’ He allowed himself a small giggle as he pictured Elladan posturing as he said that. Infinitely cheerier, he decided that he agreed with his brother’s imaginary lecture. How could he even think of giving up? If it was up to him to find a way out, he’d better stop lying around thinking about it and get moving!

Drawing on a quiet inner strength for which he would be known later in life, Elrohir sat still as he composed himself. He reached out with his other senses since the only thing he could see in the pitch dark of the cave was his own faint glow, but even that was dimmer than it should be. After a little while, his patience was rewarded as he heard a small sound coming from his right. He could tell it was the rats, but he knew that they had been in the large cavern so he decided, after another stern lecture to himself to stop being so frightened of some animals that were smaller than him, to follow the sounds that he heard. He crawled along the ledge, feeling his way in the dark, and was pleased to find that it opened up into some kind of tunnel, leading to the sound. He crawled along it with determination, squeezing through when it got tight, even wriggling on his stomach when the tunnel seemed impassable. He would get through! At one point he began to doubt his ability to really make it when his right foot got wedged between some rocks, but after many tense moments, he managed to slip out of his shoe and continued on, leaving the shoe behind. At last, his determined efforts seemed to be rewarded, for he felt the tunnel open up and he heard quite clearly the scurrying of many little feet. He must be back in the main cavern.

Elrohir carefully felt in front of him, stopping when he realized that the tunnel ended in the side of some wall and there were no ledges to crawl along. He could either go back or climb down the wall beneath the tunnel opening. Determined to find his way out, Elrohir chose to go forward. Remembering his earlier fall, though, he was very cautious as he scooted back into the tunnel and then turned himself around, not wanting to find himself tumbling down yet another wall onto the unyielding cave floor. He tried to ignore the thought of the rats below him as he made his way down the wall, telling himself he was bigger than them and if need be, could just wade right through them once he saw the entrance to the cave. He wouldn’t let them stop him this time—he had to get out!

Elrohir managed to make it all the way down the wall without falling, the natural grace that even little elves possessed aiding his descent in the dark. The first thing that he stepped on, however, as he moved away from the wall, was a large rat. He nearly fell as it writhed beneath him, squealing in a high-pitched shriek. He gave his own little shout and jumped off it, horrified, only to trip over another one and then stumble backwards when he felt the sharp claws of yet another one dig into his bare foot. The floor here was literally covered with the little beasts!

Thoughts of bravery and the strength of his ancestors flew from his mind as the elfling turned around, desperate to climb back up the wall that he’d just come down. He had become disoriented, however, and instead of finding the wall, he ended up moving away from it, stepping on even more of the little rodents who retaliated by biting his ankles and feet as he stumbled through them.

Not knowing where he was going, Elrohir blindly tried to run through the dark, becoming frantic when his searching hands couldn’t find the solid comfort of the wall in front of him. He kept stumbling forward, tripping and falling over the many unseen obstacles in his path, collecting a whole new set of scrapes, bruises, and bites as he tried to find the wall so he could climb back out of this nightmare place.

By the time Elrohir finally careened into another wall, he was beyond frightened. He had been bitten dozens of times on his ankles as well as on his arms, hands, and even his face when he had fallen amongst the rodents that swarmed over the floor. His breath coming in gasps and, barely holding on to his ability to think, he grabbed onto the wall as if it were a lifeline and hugged it as he ran alongside it, clinging to it desperately as he tried to find his way out. The small elf tripped over rocks in his way, slipped on wet stones, and fell to his already-scraped knees when he stepped into shallow holes. On and on he went, always picking himself up as he continued forward, only panicked determination making him get back up every time he fell. Somewhere there was a way out and he had to find it!

The poor little elf had no way of knowing that he’d ended up in an enclosed cavern whose only entrance big enough for an elf was the tunnel through which he’d entered. He had no way of finding it, either, for it was somewhere above his head, invisible in the darkness.

He would have just kept unknowingly running in circles, but he was tired, hungry, and scared and finally went down hard as he lost his footing on one of the damp stones. He tried to get back up once more, terrified at the thought of being down amongst the rats, but he had badly twisted his ankle and the moment he put weight on it, he fell back down with a cry.

Pain, fright, and loneliness consumed him as a rat ran up his back and he screamed out, “Dan!,” wanting nothing more than to have his twin at his side to help him get out of this terrifying place. There was no answer to his call, of course, but by this time he really didn’t hope for any. He was trapped in the pitch dark and would never get out. In his mind he heard once again Belmandren’s voice whispering, ‘Cave rats will do anything for fresh meat,” and knew his fate.

“No. No. No…” The little elf was crying in earnest as he tried to stand back up using the support of the wall. Losing any sense of grace or balance as he shook uncontrollably, he once again slipped and felt a searing pain as his weakened ankle twisted beneath him and he heard a sickening ‘snap’ of the bone. Lying on the cave floor, unable to get up again, he felt with horror the scratchy feet of an uncountable number of rats climbing over him and at last conscious thought fled. The little elf screamed “NO!” in sheer terror, his mind filled with images of thousands of little monsters ripping him to pieces as they made him their dinner. This image engulfed him and in mindless panic he curled up into a little ball, covering his head tightly with his arms. The rats continued to run around and over their little intruder, now ignoring him since he was no longer stepping on them, but the small elf didn’t realize that they weren’t trying to eat him. Overcome by terror and pain, he had slipped into a dark little world of his own and lost all sense of awareness.

Elrohir’s absence wasn’t noted for many hours. Elladan and Legolas were not in the best of spirits after listening to a very boring lesson on the history of Arda all morning, so the little elves sulked through lunch and didn’t question when Elrohir never showed up to join them, assuming he was out somewhere having fun. The missing elf’s parents were also distracted, though of course by more serious issues than a bout of childish sulking. They were continuing discussions with their guests through lunch, leaving the care of the children to the many other adults who kept an eye out for Rivendell’s impish twins and so they, too, never realized that their youngest was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, even those others failed to notice that Elrohir had not been seen for hours. It was so rare that he was separated from his twin for any length of time that everyone assumed he was cooped up in the library with his brother and no one thought it strange that he wasn’t around.

No, the disturbing truth wasn’t revealed until late afternoon, when Elladan and Legolas were finally released from the library and went looking for him. There was only a short time left before dinner and they had been told they could play quietly until summoned, so they rushed to find Elrohir. They expected that his day had been much more interesting than theirs and wanted to hear all about what he’d been doing while they had been trapped in the library. A quick search of his favorite places inside convinced them that he wasn’t there, though, and a similar search outside in the twins’ usual play areas also revealed no dark-haired little elf playing by himself. Frustrated, the boys ran back into the house and asked everyone they could find if they had seen Elrohir, but to their increasing dismay, learned that he hadn’t been seen by anyone since late morning.

Finally, they ended up outside the door to Rivendell’s large meeting chamber. They wanted to ask their parents where Elrohir had gone, but before they actually interrupted the adults, they hesitated.

“Maybe we should not bother them,” said Legolas, as he stared up at the large door, not eager to upset his parents and suffer a second lecture in the same day. “Elrohir will come back for dinner. We should just wait to talk to him when we eat.”

Elladan scrunched his forehead as he thought. He wasn’t anxious to have his ears blistered with another scolding either, but he couldn’t wait that long for word of his brother. In truth, somewhere deep inside, a bad feeling had been growing all afternoon. At first he’d pushed it aside, deciding it was a result of his irritation over his punishment, but once he realized Elrohir was missing, he finally connected the unease with his twin. Something was wrong with Elrohir. He knew it. And if interrupting his parents could help him figure out what that was, he would put up with whatever consequences were forthcoming. Thus, knowing in his heart that he had to go in despite the risk, he glanced over at Legolas and then back to the door before saying, “I must talk to my Ada before dinner. But…but maybe if we don’t knock and just wait inside quietly, they won’t get mad.”

Legolas didn’t really understand Elladan’s sense of urgency, but he nonetheless nodded and said, “All right.” Then he grinned and added, “At least if we get in trouble again, we’ll be able to share the punishment. I’ve decided it isn’t nearly as bad when you aren’t punished alone.”

Elladan, knowing how bored Legolas had been with the day’s lectures, smiled his thanks to his loyal friend and pushed aside the thought that it was usually Elrohir who shared punishments with him. The two of them knew all about the benefits of getting in trouble together. But thinking about his twin simply made Elladan more determined that he had to find him, so without further discussion, he reached forward and turned the knob on the door. It was a tall, heavy door and he had to ask Legolas to help pull it open, but when they had a wide enough crack, they squeezed in and then gulped as they saw the entire room full of people turn to them. So much for waiting quietly until there was a lull in the conversation.

It was Elrond as Rivendell’s master who immediately questioned the small intruders, glaring at them as he demanded, “Elladan, what is the meaning of this? Whatever mischief you are up to, this is not the time. We are busy right now with affairs that are not for little ears, so take Legolas and find something to do until it is time for dinner.”

Legolas, not feeling the same driving need to find Elrohir, turned immediately to obey, but stopped when Elladan didn’t budge. Seeing the dark-haired little elf stand his ground, Legolas turned back with a sigh. He just knew they were going to sit through another excruciatingly boring lecture tomorrow if they were not careful, but he was not about to let his friend face their angry parents alone.

Elladan was grateful for his friend’s presence as he gathered up the courage to speak, for the stern looks were making him nervous. As calmly as he could manage, however, he said, “Ada, I am sorry to bother you, but we wanted to play with Elrohir and I was wondering if you could tell me where to find him.”

The elven lord’s eyebrows flew up at his son’s words. They were discussing the fate of the world and he was being interrupted so Elladan could play with his twin? Elrond left his seat and walked quickly over to the small elves, saying crossly as he approached, “I have been busy all day and have not seen your brother since your little escapade this morning. I suggest you look in the house and ask around—someone will be able to tell you where he is. Now,” his voice softened a bit as he placed a hand on each boy’s back and gently started to push them out the door, “run along and do not trouble us again, for we have important things to discuss before we break for dinner.”

Elladan was not to be deterred, however. Squirming away from his father’s hand he turned to him and said earnestly, “Ada, we have already looked in the house and asked everyone. No one has seen Elrohir for the longest time. I…” he dropped his voice and added a bit fearfully, “I think he needs to be found now.”

The elf lord stopped and looked down at the serious expression on his firstborn’s face and started to feel the first pangs of unease. This was beginning to sound like more than a bored little elfling looking for a playmate. He knelt and took his son’s shoulders in his hands and asked carefully, “Was he planning to do something naughty that you do not wish to tell me about, Elladan? Something that may have gone wrong and placed him in danger?”

The little elf shook his head quickly, dispelling that concern instantly. “I do not know what he was going to do, Ada. Honest. I just…” he looked around at the other elves in the room and then tugged his father down closer to him so he could whisper in his ear, “I feel something is wrong, Ada. You know.”

Pulling away from Elladan, Elrond frowned as he regarded his son. He was well aware that the twins were connected in some way that neither he, nor they, understood yet, so when Elladan insisted that something was wrong, he had to believe him. He squeezed his son’s shoulders to offer comfort and then rose, trying to ignore a twisting of fear in his stomach as he said to the group of elves at the table, “My apologies, but it seems we will have to break early for dinner.” His eyes sought his wife’s as he added, “Apparently my youngest hasn’t been seen since this morning, and I fear I will not be able to concentrate on anything else until I can assure myself he is safe.”

The assembled group rose to their feet with instant comments of concern, the cares of the world taking a back seat to the more immediate need of finding a lost child. Grateful for their understanding, Elrond held out his hand for Celebrian and the two worried parents went to look for their son.

Hours passed without anyone finding the slightest clue as to the small elf’s whereabouts. After an initial search confirmed Elladan’s assertion that no one had seen Elrohir since late that morning, Elrond had summoned his guard and a more thorough search had been taken of the house and the surrounding areas. The results were equally grim. The last one who could remember seeing Elrohir was one of the gardeners, who saw the little elf shortly before lunchtime walking alone down one of the paths. After that, nothing. No one else had seen him.

Afternoon turned to evening and evening to night while the search continued and an increasing number of Rivendell’s inhabitants joined the hunt for the missing elfling. Elladan and Legolas were initially allowed to participate as well, but eventually it became quite late and the two little elflings were sent in to eat a late dinner and then go to bed. They were both visibly upset to be sent away from the search, but when Celebrian pulled Elladan aside and solemnly asked him to go so she could concentrate on finding his twin, the small elf reluctantly agreed. Making her promise that she would wake him if they found anything at all, he and Legolas silently followed one of his father’s warriors back to the house, all the while wishing they could stay and help find their missing companion.

Dinner was a quick affair of bread and cold cheeses, after which the two gloomy boys were escorted to Elladan’s room where they would spend the night together. There, despite their belief that they should still be allowed to search, the exhausted elflings fell asleep almost before their heads hit their pillows. Their sleep was anything but restful, though. Throughout the night, Elladan found himself caught in one nightmare after another, never clear enough for him to remember, but after each one he woke up feeling increasingly frightened and desperately sad. His tossing and turning kept his little guest from sleeping soundly as well, so just before the dawn when yet another nightmare caused Elladan to cry out, Legolas woke up and blinked wearily as Elladan threw aside his tangled covers and sat up.

For a moment, Elladan said and did nothing as he shook off the haunted feeling of his nightmare, but then he looked over at Legolas and his lower lip began to tremble. He knew, of course, that Legolas had been sharing his room, but his nightmare had made him miss Elrohir with an almost unbearable ache and seeing the little blond prince in the bed next to him instead of his twin was enough to cause the tough little elf to finally break. Dropping his face into his hands, Elladan started to cry, not caring for once if it made him look weak.

Legolas stared at him, still bleary from lack of sleep. He didn’t know how he could help his distraught friend, but after looking at Elladan in dismay for a moment, he gave in to instinct and climbed next to his friend, wrapping his arms around the sad little elf.

“Maybe they found Elrohir last night and he is in his room,” Legolas said, trying to penetrate Elladan’s grief-stricken sobs.

The dark-haired elf just shook his head, though, and said through his tears, “Ammë said she would wake me if he was found. She promised. And…and it hurts inside where I feel Ro. So I know he’s not here. He’s lost!”

Legolas didn’t quite understand what Elladan meant, but he did understand that it meant Elrohir was still missing, so the two little boys laid their heads on each other’s shoulders, Legolas fighting his own tears as he worried about his lost friend. Where could Elrohir be? He wouldn’t have just run away. He must have been playing and somehow was unable to return home. Maybe he was hurt or trapped somewhere. Regardless, wherever he was he would be hoping someone would come for him soon. With that thought, Legolas pulled away from Elladan, blinked away his tears, and said determinedly, “If Elrohir is still lost, then we have to find him!”

The woebegone little face that peered at him, eyelashes clumped with tears, almost made Legolas start crying again, but he pushed back his own sadness as he tried to be strong for the two of them. He scooted off the bed and, holding out his hand, said firmly, “You know him better than anyone, so wherever he is, we can find him. Come. Let’s go search for him.”

Elladan wiped his face with the back of his hands and sniffed, but then gave his friend a little smile. This was the kind of talk that he usually gave to his brother and if the situation weren’t so grim, he would have found this new role almost amusing. He was still terribly worried, but was grateful that in Elrohir’s absence he had someone by his side to give him a figurative punch in the arm when he needed it. His face filled with matching determination as he nodded to Legolas and grabbed his hand, a renewed strength in his heart as he was pulled off the bed. They would find Elrohir.

After quickly getting dressed, the two darted through the halls until they reached the main conference room which, even at this early hour was filled with people, some spilling out into the corridor. Pushing their way through the forest of legs, the little boys made it to the front of the group and ran straight to their parents, who were sitting at the head table studying a map of the valley along with several of the lieutenants of the Imladris Guard.

King Thranduil and his wife were the first to see the boys and alerted Elrond and Celebrian to their arrival by greeting them, “Legolas, Elladan, you are up early.”

Elrond and Celebrian dropped the map on the table and both knelt down to wrap their son in a hug as he ran into their arms. Much to his own disgust, Elladan wanted nothing more than to burst into tears again, seeing from their tired, haggard faces that they didn’t have any good news about Elrohir, but instead he bravely said, “Legolas and I have come to help. We are all rested and ready to find Elrohir.”

Celebrian smiled through a sudden sheen of tears and said lovingly, “That is wonderful, darling. I am sure we can use your help. Elrohir…Elrohir will be glad to see you when we find him. Now, can you sit quietly for a moment while Ada and I study the map for a moment?”

Elladan nodded soberly and glanced at his friend’s parents, surprised that they looked almost as worried as his own. But then he forgot about them when he noticed that another familiar face he was expecting wasn’t there. Tugging on his mother’s gown, he asked, “Where is Glorfindel? Why isn’t he looking for Elrohir?” For as long as he could remember, the powerful warrior had cared for the boys as if they were his own and Elladan couldn’t imagine why the captain of the Imladris Guard wasn’t there to help when Elrohir really needed him.

Elrond shared a look with Celebrian and answered for her, “Glorfindel took some of the guard and is searching outside the valley. We will hear his report later.” He did not add that they were looking for signs of foul play, but he saw the realization dawn in his son’s eyes and he gave him another quick hug before he could ask any more questions, almost as much to comfort himself as to distract his little son.

Further explanations and questions were forgotten, however, when the worried family heard a disturbance near the door. Four elves were pushing their way through, two male youths and two older females. When they reached the center of the room, the ladies curtsied shakily to their lord and lady while the young elves bowed nervously, then all fell silent when Elrond and Celebrian rose and stood before them.

“My lord,” began the lady on the right, who Celebrian noted with surprise was Leah, a good friend of hers as well as the wife of one of the realm’s warriors. Usually she was a bright, cheerful lady, but the confident woman that Celebrian had known for years was missing as she repeated in a tremulous voice, “My lord, my lady…my son and his friend have something to tell you.”

With a little shove, Leah pushed her son forward, a tall young elf with light brown hair. His companion quickly joined him when his mother also pushed him forward. The second elf was a shade taller, with dark hair and a face that looked like it would usually be filled with merriment, but now was somber and pale.

The lord and his lady said nothing as they waited, only a lifetime of courtly poise preventing them from demanding that the youngsters tell them if they knew something about their lost child.

The first elf swallowed hard as he felt the burning gaze of the pair and hesitated before speaking. Then another little shove from behind, from his mother no doubt, loosened his tongue and he managed to whisper, “My lord…my lady…we know where Elrohir is.”

Celebrian grabbed her husband’s arm, almost overcome by a conflicting mix of hope and dread as Elrond said in a tight voice, “Continue.”

The elf started to tremble as he said, “I…I am Belmandren, my lord, and this is my friend Johir. We were just playing a trick on him. We never thought he’d st-stay there. We thought he’d come out after awhile. B-but this morning when we heard that he was missing, we realized that he must still be in the cave.”

“What cave?” The elf lord’s voice was so cold that most in the room could not avoid shuddering.

Belmandren opened his mouth, but only squeak came out. He felt like he wanted to be sick. What had started out as harmless fun had blossomed into a full-blown nightmare and suddenly the horror of what he’d done robbed him of the ability to speak. Remembering the delight in Elrohir’s face as he looked around the cave, he knew that he would never forgive himself if something had happened to the little elf who had followed him so trustingly.

Thankfully, at that point Johir answered Elrond’s question shakily, “Out past the north gardens and the orchards, my lord. Near the rainbow falls. There is a small opening that leads to a wider cave. We took him inside and after awhile, left him there. But we were certain that he would come out after he realized that we were not returning. We did not mean for him to come to harm!”

Elrond was grateful for his wife’s hand on his arm, for without it he may not have been able to keep himself from reaching out and shaking the two boys in front of him. They had taken an innocent little elfling and left him alone in a cave…as a joke? Bile rose in his throat as he imagined his child alone in the dark, afraid, perhaps hurt. He shook with the effort it took to force back his fury.

There was someone, however, who had absolutely no compunction against lashing out at the two boys. Elladan, who had been forgotten for the moment, slipped past his parents and ran to the two, screaming, “I hate you! I hate you!” and pounded his fists first into Johir and then Belmandren. They both tried to fend him off, not really hurt by the small elf, but shocked by the sudden attack.

Then Elrond did come forward and grabbed his little son around the waist and picked him up, Elladan kicking and screaming “Let me go!” as he tried to get back to the two mean elves who had hurt his brother.

Elrond wrapped his writhing child in a firm embrace, his mouth right by Elladan’s ear as he told him sternly, “Hush now. This is not appropriate and will not help us find your brother. If you wish to come with us to the cave, you will settle down, immediately.”

His words worked like magic, for the elf heard in his father’s voice the promise that he would be left behind if he didn’t obey. His breaths coming in gulps, he ceased his fighting instantly and nodded, saying breathlessly, “I’ll be good. I promise, Ada. Please, I’ll be good.”

Holding Elladan at arm’s length for a moment to make sure he had truly calmed down, Elrond then set him down and glared at him in warning before turning back to the two shaken boys. “I believe it is time for you to lead me to my son,” he said grimly.

Pausing only to send a couple of runners after torches and ropes, Elrond and his searchers were outside and heading toward the cave within moments. Johir and Belmandren led the way, with at least a score of elves following behind. At first they all were walking quickly, but soon it became apparent that the pace just wasn’t fast enough, so the elves started running, Elrond and Thranduil scooping up their young sons and carrying them as they went.

Just a short time later, the group was standing outside the cave entrance and then one-by-one, crawled into the cave itself.

“Elrohir!” Elrond, as the first one through, called loudly as soon as he entered the cave, but only the quick scurrying sound of the cave’s inhabitants answered him.

“Elrohir, where are you?” added Celebrian, joining her husband and looking about anxiously for her child.

The worried parents looked around the cave without seeing any of the beauty as they waited for the rest of the search party to enter. They saw nothing to indicate a little elfling was trapped in there. But once everyone was inside, Elrond’s eyes turned to Johir and Belmandren, who had been standing off to the side, conferring quietly.

“Perhaps you can tell me exactly where you left my son?” Elrond asked them, trying to keep the anger from his voice as he pictured his youngest alone in this vast darkness.

Belmandren’s face was a study in misery as he answered, “That is just what we were discussing, my lord. It was dark, but we believe it was on that ledge, right there,” he said, pointing to the back of the cavern at a small shelf about four feet off the ground.

“Why would he sit there and not follow after you?” asked Thranduil suspiciously, his own heart aching at the thought of Elrond’s little missing son. He and the lord of Rivendell didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but when it came to the well-being of the children, animosity was forgotten and he hurt to think of the lost child.

“We kind of told him that…” mumbled Johir, the rest of the sentence unintelligible as the young elf stared at the floor.

“What did you tell him?” demanded Thranduil, raising the boy’s chin up with a firm hand.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Johir glanced over at Belmandren, his fear evident as he looked back to the stern elven king. “We kind of told him that…that the rats would eat him.”

“You what?” shouted an appalled Leah, who had been standing behind Belmandren. She was so ashamed and wished desperately that her husband wasn’t assigned to one of the patrols scouting outside the realm’s borders—she needed his support right now in dealing with this terrible situation. She turned her son until he faced her and asked in disbelief, “Belmandren?”

Belmandren’s eyes filled with tears as he nodded and choked, “I am sorry, Ammë. I know now it was stupid…and mean. But it was just supposed to be a silly joke. We really didn’t mean to hurt him,” he ended in a whisper.

But Celebrian cut her off, “Later, Leah. Right now…I just need to find my baby.” She walked away from the other woman, afraid that if she stayed, she would say something unforgivable. Besides, the important thing was to focus on finding her little boy, who would be scared and perhaps hiding.

The other elves just shook their heads in disgust and a few glared at the boys, but they all silently agreed with Celebrian that their first order of business was to find wherever Elrohir may be tucked away. They fanned out to all ends of the cave, peering into holes, climbing up to look in high-up cubbyholes, disturbing a large number of rats, but finding no sign that Elrohir was there or even that he had been there.

Some time later, after having circled the room several times himself, Elrond stopped abruptly when he felt a tugging on his tunic and looked down to see Legolas in his path. He dropped down onto a knee and smiled gently. “Hello little one. Have you something you wish to tell me?” he asked encouragingly.

Legolas glanced back into a dark corner and nodded before saying quietly, “Elladan is crying.”

Elrond sighed. He knew his eldest would be upset that they still hadn’t found his twin, but he had hoped that being part of the search would have distracted Elladan. Determined to comfort the one son that he could, he patted Legolas on the shoulder in thanks and after listening carefully, followed the sound of a little sniff around a large rock and found Elladan sitting on a boulder in an unlit corner.

His heart went out to the little elf. His firstborn always tried to be so brave and tough, but right now he was the picture of abject misery. Elladan’s chin rested in his fists, while slow tears rolled down his cheeks and between his little fingers.

The elven lord bent down and ran a loving hand down his little son’s back. “We will find him, sweetling. He’s just hiding a bit better than we’d thought,” he said tenderly.

“Don’t be, little one,” said Elrond, leaning forward to kiss his son on the forehead. “No matter how good the rascal is at hide-and-seek, Elrohir cannot fool us for much longer.”

His father’s words did not elicit the appropriate little smile, however. Instead, Elladan shook his head and whispered, “Not me.”

Elrond laughed softly and agreed, “You are right, he never could fool you for long, could he?”

But the little elf shook his head harder and looked up at his father with serious, tear-filled eyes as he said quietly, “No, Ada. I mean I wasn’t talking about me being scared. Ro is.”

The elven lord reprocessed the conversation and realized what Elladan was telling him. He knelt on the ground and pulled his firstborn onto his lap. “You think Ro is scared? Well, I expect he might be, but your brother may have just fallen asleep and cannot hear us.”

Elladan started chewing on the tip of his littlest finger, something that he’d done as a baby when he was distressed. Elrond couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Elladan do that, which told him without a doubt that his son was highly upset. Burying his head in his father’s chest, the little elf choked, “No. He is scared and so lonely.”

Elrond felt a chill run through him. “Elladan,” he asked carefully, “can you tell what Elrohir is feeling?”

He held his breath as he waited for an answer, but the little elf said nothing, only nodding as he kept his head buried against his father.

Breathing in deeply, Elrond tried to think what this could mean. Was it possible that the connection between the twins allowed one to know the other’s feelings? And if so, could it be used to help find the missing child? With a guarded hope, he asked, “Elladan, can you tell where your brother is?”

Elladan’s sad shake of his head quickly crushed Elrond’s hope and he sighed deeply, disappointed. He kissed the top of the little dark head nestled in his arms and squeezed Elladan tightly before lifting him out of his lap. “Well, I know you both will feel better when we find him,” he said sympathetically, “so how about we look for your brother?”

Elladan nodded and took his father’s hand, but then didn’t budge when the elven lord tried to go back to the main chamber.

“Here?” Elrond looked up at the cave wall that rose straight up, ending in darkness far above his head. They were so far away from the cave entrance that no light penetrated this dark corner and if not for the torches, they would have been standing in pitch black. What would make Elladan think his brother would have come all the way back here? He asked curiously, “Why?”

Having no where better to look, Elrond decided to humor his small son and, holding his torch in his left hand, easily scaled the wall in front of him. He expected to find nothing at all, but about ten feet up, he saw that there was a large ledge, previously hidden in the shadows. Climbing carefully onto it, he crawled forward lightly and his heart started thumping when he found a small tunnel leading off to the right. Maybe Elladan had been right!

Once again, he heard the sound of rats scurrying around at the sound of his voice, but once again there was no answering call.

His shouts did alert the other searchers, though, who gathered around at the base of the wall and looked up.

“Aye…there is a ledge up here that leads to a tunnel. Elrohir is small enough that he could have fit through it.”

“Nay,” he answered in frustration. “It is too narrow for me—all I can see is that it takes several turns. I cannot tell if he is down there, but I have called and heard no answer. Perhaps you may be able to fit.

“I am coming up,” called the slim elven woman, determined that if her baby was down that tunnel, she would go to him.

She joined her husband within seconds and took the torch from him, crawling a few feet down the tunnel before backing out and looking at Elrond, her eyes dark with worry. “It is very narrow, Elrond. I will try to push my way through, but I would feel better if you could tie a rope around me, so if I get caught you can pull me back.”

They had a rope thrown up and after tying a loop around Celebrian’s foot, she started back down the tunnel, pushing the torch in front of her as she went. It wasn’t a straight channel, so she couldn’t tell how far it went, but she wriggled and pushed her way through, ignoring the suffocating tightness of the small passageway as she focused on finding her son. About five minutes after she started, her search was rewarded with the first real sign of Elrohir. A small shoe lay in her path and she scooped it up joyfully, hugging it to her before she started crawling again, the shoe held tight in her hand.

Only a few feet further, however, the tunnel narrowed to the point that the slim woman couldn’t fit through, no matter how much she pushed and twisted.

No! She was so close and she knew Elrohir had come this way. She called out desperately, “Elrohir! Elrohir, answer me!”

The only answer she received was from her husband, listening at the other end of the tunnel. “Do you see him? Is he there?”

She didn’t answer her husband, focused only on pushing her way through the obstruction and reaching her child. “Elrohir! Baby, it’s ammë. Please let me know you can hear me,” she cried out.

This time Celebrian answered her husband’s calls. “He’s here. I know he’s here, but I can’t get through,” his wife said in a choked voice. “I can’t get through,” she whispered again, dropping her head down.

She cried quietly for just a moment, but then picked her head back up. Falling apart wasn’t going to get her son back. She pushed the torch as far forward as she could with her fingertips and strained to see anything in the darkness. Although she saw no more signs of her little boy, she shouted forward, “Elrohir, I…I will be back. I love you little one. Just…just wait a little longer, baby. I will be back.” Then she turned her head and shouted back the way she came, “I need your help to pull me out Elrond, it is too tight to crawl backwards.”

It took a bit of doing to bring Celebrian back out of the passage and she lost a fair amount of skin to scrapes as she was pulled through the rock, but when she was out, she presented Elrond with her trophy, Elrohir’s little shoe.

“Look. He was there, Elrond,” she said with tear-filled eyes. “But the tunnel narrows too much for me to get through. I could not reach him,” she choked.

Elrond held the small shoe tenderly and squeezed his eyes tight in pain as he gathered his wife in his arms. They shared a desperately worried look, knowing that if the slim woman couldn’t get through, there wouldn’t be any chance for any of the others to make it. Still, there had to be something they could do. Climbing back down to the cave floor, the two of them worked through possibilities with the gathered rescuers and were discussing the need for a stonemason when Elladan interrupted them.

No one could argue with his logic, of course, but Elrond wouldn’t even consider such a thing. “Absolutely not!” he forbade. “We do not know what lies at the end of the tunnel. I will not chance losing you as well.”

Elrond turned back to the gathered group, only to have his small son once more interrupt, “But Ada, I’ll be careful. Please let me go. Ro needs me.”

“Elladan, no,” Elrond repeated firmly. “It could be dangerous. We do not know why Elrohir is not answering, but there may be something there that could harm you. We will find a way to make the opening bigger, so one of us can fetch your brother. Now, please wait quietly while we make plans. The more you interrupt us, the longer it will take to get your brother freed.”

The little elf plopped to the ground, his arms across his chest, his face in a perfect scowl. Seeing the beginnings of a classic sulk but having no time to deal with it, Elrond grimaced in irritation and then once more turned to discuss ways to enlarge the tunnel without collapsing it completely.

None of the adults paid attention to the small child on the floor, which was just what Elladan had planned when he’d started his pretend sulk. He allowed himself a tiny smile of triumph and then with a wink for Legolas, who had been watching his friend suspiciously, he crawled over to the wall and quickly began to scale it.

The rapid movement caught the eye of Celebrian, though, who was facing her son and she shouted, “No!”

Elrond, who was closer, turned at her shout and saw his son scrambling up the wall. He leapt forward and stretching, just managed to catch onto the bottom of Elladan’s left foot. He held tight, but Elladan wriggled and kicked, and managed to slip away, leaving his father holding his shoe. In the split second that it took for Elrond to realize that Elladan had pulled away and then start climbing himself, Elladan flew up the remainder of the wall and quickly crawled into the tunnel, safe from his father since the larger elf couldn’t make it past the narrow entrance.

The furious elven lord called for Elladan, leaving no shadow of a doubt that he expected his son to obey immediately and come back. But after several minutes of shouting, he realized that Elladan was not going to comply and he turned around and gracefully dropped back down to the floor.

“He ignored me!” he hissed to Celebrian. “He ignored me and went down the tunnel after Elrohir. When I get my hands on him….”

Elrond expected an equally angry mother to be agreeing with him, but instead, Celebrian touched his arm softly and he finally looked into her eyes, surprised to see gentle tears instead of anger at their son’s disobedience. She gave him a sad smile as she shook her head.

“Nay, my love,” she said softly. “You should not be angry. Elladan had to go to his twin. It is the way they are. Nothing we said could have kept him from going.”

With that, he followed her eyes to the large boulder that Elladan had been sitting on earlier and with a pang, he understood. There, on its smooth surface, was a small pair of shoes. Elrohir’s right and Elladan’s left. In their own simple way, they told the story of the twins. Each little shoe was perfectly formed and unique unto itself, and yet separately, each was but a piece, incomplete, whereas together they formed a perfect pair. Finished. Truly whole.

The great elven lord closed his eyes and sighed in painful acceptance. Soft tears filled his eyes as he took his wife’s hand and together the anguished parents prayed for their sons’ safe return.

Elladan didn’t respond to his father’s enraged shouts as he scrambled down the tunnel. There was no point—nothing could make him turn back. That didn’t stop him from wincing, however, as he crawled forward, imagining all sorts of dire punishments for his flagrant disobedience. He was certain that a day spent in the library would seem very tame compared to whatever he had earned this time, but still didn’t hesitate when his father yelled again for him to turn around instantly. Even at this young age, Elladan knew there were some things in life that were absolute truths. And one of those truths was if Elrohir needed him, he would risk anything for him. Period. Regardless of the cost.

With thoughts of his twin uppermost in his mind, Elladan crawled on through the tunnel until he reached the tight passage that had blocked his mother. He squirmed his way through carefully, forcing his way through the snug opening and finally reaching the torch that had been guiding his journey to this point. He was grateful his mother had left it behind, for its bright light was a cheery companion as he slowly made his way through the tunnel, shoving the torch forward carefully as he went.

As he continued, inch by inch, his thoughts drifted to what Elrohir’s trip through this tunnel must have been like. What could have possessed him to even come down here? It was so far from the main entrance and so…dark. He shivered as he tried to imagine crawling around with no way of seeing what was in front of him. Curiosity getting the better of him, he closed his eyes and felt with his hands, but within a few moments opened them quickly as the confining walls seemed to close in on him. He took a deep breath as he shivered again. That was not fun. No wonder Elrohir was scared.

The tight passage forced the little elf to make his way slowly, always pushing the torch in front of him. He was just beginning to wonder how much further he’d have to go, when he unexpectedly got his answer. As he nudged the torch forward, it suddenly tipped and fell into the darkness. In shock he watched it disappear over the edge of the rock, too stunned to even try to grab for it as it dropped into the black void.

Elladan’s first thought was fear that he, too, would be trapped without light, but apparently the floor wasn’t too far down, for as he scrambled the rest of the way through the tunnel, he could see the edge of the rock illuminated from below.

Carefully peering down, Elladan saw that the torch had fallen about eight feet and now lay on the edge of a chamber which looked like it had been carved out of the rock by a series of ancient streams, dried up in ages past. At first, he wrinkled his nose, appalled by the smell coming from the countless rats that he could see darting about the floor, apparently upset by having a flaming torch fall into their normally dark lair.

“Eww,” he said aloud, looking at the rat droppings covering the floor. It was a nasty place and the little boy frowned as he thought about having to climb down into it.

But Elrond’s eldest wasn’t the sort to let unpleasantness send him scurrying back into the tunnel. He knew somewhere ahead was his twin, so with a disgusted sigh he accepted that would make his way through that mountain of rat droppings if he had to in order to find Elrohir. Elrohir—where was he anyway? Sitting back on his heels, Elladan studied the cavern beneath him, trying to see if there was any sign of his twin. He blinked as he tried to focus on individual details, the rats making it difficult as they ran in front of the flickering torchlight, painting eerie pictures on the walls. Despite himself, he shivered. Not only was this place nasty, it was creepy too.

The longer he sat there, looking down onto the disturbing scene, hearing the scratching and squeaking of the rats, the more he felt the strangeness of the place seep into his bones and for the first time since he had escaped his father, Elladan truly began to feel the flutters of fear. There was something here that seemed to pierce his soul and make him feel absolutely alone, as if he’d be trapped in this place, forever separated from those he loved.

Elladan fought the feeling with all his being. He never liked to admit he was frightened, even to himself. Although he was just a little fellow, as the eldest of Rivendell’s lord, he had decided years ago that he wasn’t allowed to be scared—that he must always show a brave face to the world to make his father proud. Most of the time he was able to carry it off, even when inside he envied Elrohir’s freedom to express himself more openly. But sometimes it was hard to be brave and this was one of those times. Something in this place seemed to be clawing at him, making him want to cry in despair and forget all about pride…something that was going to trap him here if he stayed…something… The feeling built and built until he finally had too much.

“No,” he whispered, starting to crawl backwards, the driving need to get OUT of this place making him forget why he had come. He spun around to the tunnel, but in doing so was cut off from the torchlight, causing the path ahead to loom just as ominously as the cave behind. On the edge of panic, the little elf twisted back around and frantically looked to see if there was another way out that wouldn’t involve leaving the light.

But then…then his breath left him in a whoosh and he forgot to feel afraid, forgot the smell, forgot the rats. As his eyes had flown across the far edge of the chamber, they locked onto something he had overlooked before. He didn’t know what made him pause—it wasn’t anything specific that he saw—but somehow, when his eyes flickered past a dark lump near the far wall, everything fell back into place.

Without conscious thought, the small elf flew down the rock and ran into the shadows, twisting to avoid the rats that still scurried around, skidding to a stop when he reached the dark shape. Now that he was close enough, even though the torchlight barely reached this far, he could tell without a doubt that it was his twin curled against the rock.

Elladan felt no elation at having discovered his brother, however. Even in the gloom, he knew something was terribly wrong. Swallowing hard, he fell to his knees beside the still figure and reached out a shaky hand before pulling it back, somehow unwilling to touch him.

He reached out again, both hands hovering over his brother, still hesitating to touch him as he strained his eyes to see. Elrohir was little more than a shape in the dark, but Elladan could see that he was lying on his side, curled up with his arms covering his head.

“Elrohir?” he said loudly, his own voice making him jump. For just a split second he was embarrassed at allowing the sound of his voice to startle him. How stupid! But then as he stared at his unmoving brother, he wished more than anything that Elrohir would look up and laugh at him for being so silly. It would be worth looking foolish it if it meant Elrohir was okay.

“Ro?” he whispered, feeling more comfortable making soft sounds in this creepy place.

When Elrohir didn’t respond, didn’t even twitch, Elladan scowled and then reluctantly took his shoulders and gently shook him. Still no response.

No sound answered him. No movement. There was no sign that the motionless figure was in any way aware of the small elf sitting beside him. Elladan pulled back, his breath becoming rapid as the reality of the situation fully hit him. He had envisioned finding Elrohir, extricating him from whatever mess he’d gotten himself into, and then triumphantly leading him back to their parents, a hero. But grim reality snuffed out that vision. There was something very wrong with his twin and Elladan had no idea what to do next.

Sifting through a dozen different ideas and rejecting them all, Elladan finally decided he needed to understand just what was wrong with his brother before he could come up with a plan. So, biting his upper lip between his teeth, Elladan rolled his twin onto his back and then gently straightened him out. He huffed in frustration as he was still unable to see clearly—it was too dark, but he didn’t want to leave him to fetch the torch.

Deciding to once more try to wake him, Elladan grabbed Elrohir’s shoulders and shook him harder than the last time.

When there was still no response, Elladan fought to keep his voice even as he called, “Elrohir, wake up. It’s me! I…I’m here to get you out, but you have to wake up. Ro…please. Please!”

Somewhere within Elrohir’s mind, he heard his twin’s call and wanted to respond. Elladan was his brother, his best friend, and yes, sometimes even his protector and he knew that Elladan would save him if he could. But long hours ago, another part of Elrohir had finally conceded that no one would ever come for him—that he had been abandoned in this dark, never-ending nightmare, so he didn’t believe it was really his brother’s voice that he heard. Instead, the scared little elf burrowed himself even deeper into his mind to escape the terrifying reality that he would die in this horrid, rat-filled hell.

When Elladan’s efforts still didn’t make any difference, he slumped down and with a small pout, pulled his twin to him, finding comfort by hugging him even if he didn’t respond. After awhile, though, determination once more entered his soul and he gently let go of Elrohir, placing him once more on the floor. He wasn’t ready to give up yet, but he conceded that he really did need to see what was wrong, so he quickly scrambled over to the torch and brought it back, hoping its bright light could help.

The flickering glow did nothing to make Elladan feel better. In fact, as the circle of light finally fell on the unconscious elfling, Elladan shivered in fear. Now that he could clearly see Elrohir, the reality was far worse than he’d imagined. Bruises, scrapes, and what appeared to be dozens of…bites?…covered every exposed part of his body. But even more disturbing was the fact that his brother’s eyes were closed tightly. Elladan had been expecting the peaceful look of one lost in sleep, but instead this was something entirely new and frightening.

“Ro…?” he whispered tremulously, frightened to see his brother in such a state. He had seen Elrohir hurt before, of course, for their many adventures had at times ended in mishap, but this was different. Not only did Elrohir look horrible, but…but there was something else that was different. Elladan could never have explained it, but his twin felt different.

While carefully patting Elrohir on the head in a useless attempt to make his twin—or was it himself?—feel better, Elladan tried to understand exactly what he was feeling. Neither one of them had ever really thought too deeply about their connection before. It was just like breathing. It was a part of who they were. Their father had told them that the bond wasn’t something everyone had, but even so, this sense of Elrohir had been with him his whole life and as such, it hadn’t been something he had really focused on. But now...now it was different and Elladan found himself trying to understand this thing that connected him to his twin. He still felt it, but instead of it being strong and pure, it was faded and jagged, as if it had been mauled and torn. What did it mean? How could he make it better? Was that what was keeping Elrohir from waking up?

Lost in thought the little boy forgot about his surroundings until something bumped into his back and he jerked back into the present, glaring at the rat that had reminded him of his current plight.

Shaking his head to rid himself of useless reflections, Elladan looked once again at his brother and said quietly, “We have to get out of here, Ro.” He accepted that Elrohir wasn’t going to answer him, but it still made him feel better to at least pretend his twin could hear him.

Unable to come up with any better idea, Elladan grabbed his brother under the arms and started dragging him across the floor in the direction of the tunnel opening. He slowly shuffled backward, trying to be careful with his limp burden, and managed to get about a quarter of the way across the cavern before his feet became tangled with one of the many rats still darting about. Landing hard on his backside, Elladan let out a little “oompf” and glared at the little beasts—nasty little buggers!

With a huff, he glanced at all the others rushing around behind him and conceded that he was going to end up on the ground again if he continued walking backward. So, deciding to try something else, the little elf braced himself and attempted to pick up Elrohir the way he’d seen warriors practicing, easing to his feet as he carefully balanced his twin across his shoulders. He went down on his knees twice before he was completely upright, but then he slowly started once more across the floor. Only took a few steps later, though, his precarious hold proved inadequate when he stumbled on the uneven floor and with a little yell, the two fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Skinned knees and a banged elbow weren’t enough to distract him from what he had just done. He had dropped Elrohir! Twisting around to where his twin lay behind him, Elladan was further horrified to see that the rats were showing their displeasure at having an elf dropped on their heads by biting at the unmoving heap. Diving into the fray, Elladan swung at the attacking creatures, suffering a number of bites himself as he tried to keep them from his twin.

His frantic actions only infuriated the little attackers more, however, and they continued to nip and scratch at the two elflings until Elladan grabbed up the torch and waved it around, finally chasing the rats off.

Seeing they were safe for the moment, Elladan draped himself over his unresponsive brother, almost sobbing in reaction.

“I won’t let them get you anymore,” he promised in a shaky whisper. “I promise. They won’t get you. You…you just rest. I’ll protect you.”

For the longest time, Elladan stayed that way, sheltering Elrohir as much as possible with his own body while the rats flitted about the cave, once again ignoring the two elflings that were trapped in their world. Eventually, though, Elladan calmed himself down and pulled back, knowing it was still up to him to get them out.

Not quite managing to keep himself from trembling slightly from the shock of what had just happened and the pain of his own bites, the elder twin looked at his brother, sprawled on the floor where he’d fallen. “Oh Elrohir, please wake up,” he whispered shakily.

Disappointed but not surprised when Elrohir didn’t respond, Elladan shook himself, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and carefully picked his brother up again. He was going to get Elrohir to that tunnel and he wasn’t going to drop him!

Pleased beyond belief when they reached the far wall without further incident, Elladan carefully set his burden on the ground and ran for the torch, rushing back and placing it near Elrohir to keep any stray rats from coming too close. Then he tilted his head and looked up, trying to come up with some way to overcome his next obstacle—the climb up to the tunnel entrance. He knew he could get himself up without problem, but how could he get Elrohir to the top? Elves, even little ones, were very strong, but Elladan knew he couldn’t carry Elrohir on his shoulders—he needed at least one of his hands to climb. Maybe he could use one hand to climb and could use the other to somehow pull Elrohir up…

The idea was doomed from the start. The little elf first tried to grab the back of Elrohir’s tunic to pull him up, but abandoned that idea when the fabric started to rip. Then he circled Elrohir with one arm and tried to carry him up, but he simply wasn’t strong enough to lift him off the ground with just one arm. Finally, he took off his own tunic, tied it around Elrohir’s middle, and then climbed up about a foot and reached down, thinking maybe he could loop the makeshift sling over his shoulder and drag him up—instead Elladan lost his grip and ended up on top of his brother, once more banging his already-scraped knees and biting his tongue as his chin thunked against Elrohir’s back.

At that, the frustrated little elf lost his temper. This situation was impossible! Why couldn’t Elrohir just wake up and help him? Anger was much easier to bear than despair, so Elladan allowed the emotion to engulf him, washing away his feeling of helplessness.

“Get up and help! Don’t just lie there!” he shouted and shook his twin. “Stop being so lazy! I’m…I’m in enough trouble because of you. I disobeyed Ada! And…and…what do you think they’d say if I went back without you? Get up!” he screamed, relieved to find an outlet for the emotions he’d been suppressing for hours.

Seeing no reaction from Elrohir, though, Elladan shook him again harder, needing to communicate to his brother just how upset he was. This was all Elrohir’s fault. The stupid elf got himself lost and now he wouldn’t wake up! But he had to wake up. He couldn’t get him out otherwise and he couldn’t leave him. “Wake up…wake up…wake up…” he shouted, the litany punctuated with violent shakes as the small elfling lost control.

His frenzied motions, however, were too rough and after one particularly hard jolt, his grip slipped and Elrohir’s head smacked against the ground with dull ‘thunk.’ Sick shock broke through Elladan’s tantrum as he realized what he had just done. He cried out, horrified, “No! No…I didn’t mean to do that!” Untangling his fingers from Elrohir’s tunic, he pulled back shaking.

Crying in earnest now, Elladan pleaded, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please. Please forgive me. And…and…and please wake up. You can yell at me if you want. I promise. You can even hit me...really…and I won’t get mad. You can do anything you want. But…just wake up. Please!”

The heartfelt pleas went unanswered and Elladan at last crumpled in defeat beside his brother. Time stopped as the little elf curled up on the hard rock, crying with the heartbroken realization that he just wasn’t going to be able to save his twin. No amount of pleading and hoping could make him move. No grownups could reach this place and he couldn’t pull Elrohir out by himself. It was hopeless. He wouldn’t leave his twin to die here alone, so they were both going to be trapped here forever.

But even in the darkest times one can sometimes find a ray of light. Somehow, the depths of Elladan’s anguish twisted its way into his twin’s being and penetrated the shield that Elrohir had woven around him. The younger twin had long ago given up hope for himself, but when he felt Elladan’s despair, he dragged himself far enough out of his shell to unconsciously reach out and lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder to comfort him.

Gasping at the contact, Elladan sat up and stared wide-eyed at his twin. “Ro?” he breathed.

Elrohir’s hand slid to the ground and he made no more signs of awakening, but it had been enough for Elladan. That small sign reminded him that Elrohir was still alive and would be counting on him to get them out. Fortified by that thought as well as unknowingly by the twins’ bond that was subtly strengthened by Elrohir’s loosened barrier, Elladan was amazed to find a new sense of purpose filling him.

Sniffing, he wiped the tears off his face, leaving grey streaks from his grimy hands and then drew in a cleansing breath, disgusted with himself for giving in to despair. All wasn’t lost. Maybe he couldn’t get Elrohir out alone, but his father could fix anything. He would know how to help them.

Elladan knew he’d have to go back alone, but even having decided that, he couldn’t make himself leave right away. Maybe Elrohir was completely unconscious, but maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t leave him without at least trying to explain why he had to leave. Lying down next to his twin, he hugged him close while he considered what to say.

Finally, he tucked Elrohir’s head onto his shoulder and confessed in a whisper, “I have to go, Ro.” He smoothed back brother’s hair and breathed deeply before continuing, “I can’t get you out by myself, so I have to find help. Please don’t be scared, though. I’m leaving the torch for you and I won’t be long—I promise. So you just rest for awhile and…and I’ll be back soon with help.”

He rocked his twin for awhile longer before releasing him and quietly pulling back. Elladan stood up, ready to climb, but when he looked back, he stopped. He just couldn’t make himself go. Elrohir looked so alone lying there on the rocks, and his twin’s heart ached to think of abandoning him. He fell back to his knees, ignoring the sting of his scraped knees rubbing the rocks, and patted Elrohir on the shoulder. Then, seeing his tunic still tied around Elrohir’s waist, he loosened it and pushed it under his twin’s head as a pillow. It wasn’t much, but it made him feel better to be able to do something to make Elrohir more comfortable.

Starting to turn away again, he was inspired by yet one more thing that he could do and plunked down on the ground to pull off his remaining shoe. He slipped it onto Elrohir’s bare foot, not thinking that it would make so much more sense for him to take both shoes—after all, he would be the one walking—but it made him feel that Elrohir was somehow more protected with shoes, so he willingly gave his own up. Finally, realizing there was nothing more to do, he squeezed his twin’s shoulder and then quickly started to climb, knowing he had to leave now before the need to stay and protect his twin once again trapped him.

He made the climb up the wall easily with the torchlight still guiding him, but once he entered the tunnel, he had to feel his way slowly in the pitch dark. It took so much longer this way, but finally Elladan saw a gleam ahead and the distinct silhouette of his father sitting in the entryway.

He had expected to feel relief when he finally reached his parents, but instead, knowing that safety was just ahead for him hit him like an arrow. Oh…how could he have left Elrohir behind, defenseless? A picture of his twin lying helpless in the dark overwhelmed Elladan and he shuddered with unwanted emotions. Fear for his twin’s safety, an overlying shame at his inability to save Elrohir, and even worry about his father’s anger washed over Elladan so instead of rushing forward, he stopped and pressed himself into the shadows, uncertain what he should do next.

The lord and lady of Rivendell had been waiting near the tunnel entrance for what felt to be an eternity when a small sound alerted them of something in the tunnel. Elrond, seated in the entryway, whipped his head around, desperately hoping to see two little boys making their way forward. The sight that met his eyes wasn’t one to bring joy, however. Peering into the darkness, the elven lord could make out only one small shape, and instead of making its way to him, it was hunched over in the tunnel, unmoving.

Despair clutched at his chest as he feared the worst, but Elrond squelched it before his eyes turned to Celebrian. Her fear was tangible as she looked at him, wordlessly begging him to perform a miracle and return their children to her. He had to be strong for both of them. After a reassuring smile for her, he turned back and focused on helping the son that was just out of reach.

Knowing who it was hiding in the tunnel, he reached out a hand, calling softly, “Elladan, child, come forward.”

He could just make out the little elf shaking his head and scrunching down even lower.

Guessing at part of the source of Elladan’s anxiety, he tried again, “I am not angry little one. Please, come out to us.”

Elladan looked up. His father truly didn’t sound angry, but he didn’t yet know that Elladan had left his twin behind. Then his mother’s silhouette joined his father’s in the opening and she added her entreaties to her husband’s.

Elladan scrunched his eyes closed with a little wince of pain. Would they still be worried for him once they knew he’d found Elrohir but then abandoned him? Would their faces show their disappointment in him? It was enough to make Elladan want to scurry back into the darkness and hide his shame. Still, if there was to be any hope of rescuing Elrohir, Elladan knew he’d have to face his parents and confess his failure, so instead of fleeing, he opened his eyes and slowly crawled the rest of the way toward the light and his parents.

He was pulled the last few feet by his mother, who ignored the filthy state of her child and wrapped him in a huge hug before passing him to his father while she looked back down the tunnel, waiting for her youngest to appear. When it became only too clear that Elrohir wouldn’t be following, she swallowed her disappointment and turned to Elladan, now safely buried in his father’s loving arms.

“Elladan, did you find any sign of your brother?” Celebrian asked gently, while stroking the back of his head.

He couldn’t answer. The comfort of his father’s grip and the sound of her loving voice made him almost choke with shame. He didn’t deserve to feel so loved when he’d failed to protect his twin.

“Baby, you have to talk to us,” Celebrian said, “Please…tell us what happened.”

When the small child still didn’t respond, Elrond, cupped his son’s chin in his hand to force him to look up and said quietly, “You must tell us what you saw, Elladan. If there was any indication that your brother is back there, we need to know. Please.”

Elladan’s eyes met his father’s and then slipped to his mother’s. Both parents were obviously worried about Elrohir, but just as obviously they were concerned for him. Tears welled up and then slipped down his filthy face as he gathered the courage to speak.

He missed the exchange of looks that his parents shared when he once more buried his head in his father’s chest.

But Elladan didn’t answer. Instead, he began to cry like he hadn’t in years and wailed, “I’m soorryyy.”

Fighting back her own tears as she tried to decipher her son’s unprecedented behavior and asked as lovingly as possible, “Elladan, what are you sorry for?”

Elladan once again didn’t answer. His sobs choked him as he imagined telling her that he’d left Elrohir in that horrible place.

Wrapped in despair, he vaguely he heard his parents talking to each other, but didn’t even note that he was being carried until he felt himself being lowered down to waiting arms.

Oh no! He was now back in the main cavern with all the others, blubbering like a wee elfling. Feeling the presence of many more elves, Elladan fought to control himself, even in his misery not wanting to disgrace his parents. He was, after all, a young lord and as such should not be seen crying like a baby.

Hiccupping slightly as he tried to control his breathing, Elladan angrily scrubbed the tears from his face and pulled away from the warrior who had taken him while Elrond and Celebrian dropped to the cave floor.

“Ada, I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t help Elrohir,” Elladan admitted bravely, trying desperately to ignore everyone else’s stares.

Celebrian knelt down next to him and took his arm, asking with a touch of alarm, “Baby, you must explain. You found him? Where is he?”

Elladan turned to her, but found he couldn’t look at her while he spoke. Her hopeful yet fearful face would start him crying again. Therefore, he turned to his father and took a shaky breath before he responded.

Elrond took in the ragged state of his son—the dirt, the scrapes and cuts, as well as something in his son’s face that told him he’d have to handle this interview carefully. Drawing on millennia of practice at remaining calm, he even managed a little smile for his son as he said, “So you found him, but he did not return with you. Was he hurt?”

No one could see the deep dread that took a hold of Elrond’s heart as his fears were acknowledged. He kept them buried as he concentrated on getting the information he needed. Continuing on with seeming effortless calm, he asked, “Could you tell what was wrong with him?”

This time the little head gave a shake “no” as Elladan’s eyes filled with sadness.

Elrond wanted to reach out and hug his obviously hurting son, but saw that doing so would cause the little boy to lose his fragile grip on his emotions, so he continued on quietly, “Elladan, I know it was upsetting to see Elrohir hurt, but you must tell us what happened. It will help us find a way to reach your brother.”

“But I couldn’t help him,” wailed Elladan, forgetting the audience of elves. “I…I…”

Quickly, before Elladan could completely break down, Elrond turned his face stern and said in a hard voice, “Elladan, you are my scout. Sent forth to gather details and report back. Now you must give me that report calmly with as many details as you know so I may determine our path ahead.”

Gulping in surprise, the little elf composed himself and whispered, “I…I found him in a room, after the tunnel. Not a real room but a cave room. But he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t answer me.”

Elladan had to force himself to keep his eyes on his father as he whispered, “no.”

Not even Elrond’s legendary composure could prevent the momentary look of anguish that crossed his face as he thought about another, impossibly terrible option. He opened his mouth to ask the next question, but closed it again and swallowed hard. He couldn’t ask this little child if his twin was dead. Neither of them would be able to face an affirmative answer. He lowered his head, praying for strength as he tried to shove his jumbled emotions back under control.

Celebrian, locked in her own struggle for control, couldn’t help. But Thranduil, who had been standing in the background as the drama unfolded before him, looked at the shaken Elrond and the visibly frightened Celebrian, understanding the terror these parents must be feeling for their missing child. Seeing an opportunity to help, he knelt down until he was eye-level with the little boy and said gently, “Elladan, I understand that your brother is hurt. That must have scared you.”

The elven king allowed himself a quiet smile when Elladan’s head whipped around to stare at him and then reluctantly nodded. Keeping his voice low, Thranduil said, “I would have been scared, too, if it was my brother. I don’t like seeing ones I love hurt. I remember once when I was little, my brother fell down and scraped himself up rather badly. Do you think Elrohir might have fallen? Did he have some scratches, perhaps?”

Finding it easier to answer someone who he wasn’t afraid of disappointing, Elladan whispered, “Aye.”

“But surely you know of your father’s skills. A few scratches are no match for Middle Earth’s best healer.”

That comment even brought a fleeting smile to the boy’s face and he stood a little taller as he nodded.

Thranduil picked his next words carefully as he continued. “But maybe there was something else that he needs to fix, too. I imagine it might have been a mite stuffy in that old cave with stale air. Did you notice…was Elrohir having any trouble breathing?”

Thranduil kept his face impassive, but held his breath as he waited for the answer.

He let it out slowly as Elladan shook his head firmly and said, “No. He was breathing fine. The air was stinky but it wasn’t stuffy.”

A choked off sound pulled Elladan’s attention back to his father and he asked him questioningly “Ada?”

Elrond send a wordless look of thanks to Thranduil for finding the answer to the question he couldn’t ask—Elrohir was breathing. He was alive. Then he finally gave into his need to hold Elladan and scooped him up, squeezing him and burying his face in the dark hair of his little son. Oh, how he wished he had both his little boys safe in his arms.

When he was sure his voice would be steady, Elrond pulled back and took up questioning again.

Elladan shrugged helplessly as he tried to articulate his twin’s condition. “His eyes were closed, but it wasn’t like sometimes when elves get hurt and they sleep with their eyes closed. Elrohir seemed…well, like he was far away…inside I mean. And he wouldn’t answer, even when I shouted at him. I can’t explain it, Ada. It feels different. Ro…well, it was like…he isn’t all the way there. I mean…he is there, but part of him isn’t. I mean…oh!” Elladan broke off in frustration. He didn’t know himself what he meant, so he certainly couldn’t explain it.

Elrond, as a healer, tried to understand what it was that Elladan was saying. Perhaps Elrohir had suffered some sort of trauma. Perhaps he was in shock. Needing more information, Elrond continued, “Is that why you came back without him? He was hurt and you could not get him to awaken?”

Elladan dropped his head and silent tears once again welled up in his eyes as he whispered in shame, “I didn’t want to leave him, Ada. I tried to make him come—to wake him up. Then when he wouldn’t, I tried to carry him. I did. But I…I…I dropped him.” The voice fell to almost nothing at the admission.

Knowing it was time for her to step in, Celebrian took his hand and squeezed it gently.

“I know Elrohir will be glad you tried. I’m sure you did the best you could, sweetling, and we are proud of you.” Then, hoping to get more details, she asked, “Can you describe the place where you found him?”

Elladan, finally regaining some of his composure, proceeded to tell his parents about the tunnel which ended in a sunken chamber and how he’d had to squeeze through some very tight passages on the way to and from the chamber.

Elrond sighed. He had been hoping that Elrohir would have been in a more accessible spot where Elladan could tie a rope around his brother and they could pull him out. But that wouldn’t work if Elrohir would have to be pulled up a steep drop. It was too easy for something to go wrong and a fall could seriously injure him.

While the adults began to discuss different rescue options, Elladan beginning to get restless. He waited for awhile, listening carefully as ideas were considered and rejected, but finally he couldn’t stand it anymore and interrupted, “Ada, I have to go back. I told Elrohir I would come get help, but I’ve been gone a long time. I have to get back now. The torch will burn out soon and then the rats won’t be scared anymore.”

Elladan didn’t know which of the many warriors gathered in the cavern spoke, but he addressed his parents as he explained, “There were lots. All over the place. And they were biting him. So I have to get back before they hurt him more.”

A choked sound distracted Elladan for a moment and he glanced at Belmandren, who seemed stricken by this latest news. Elladan didn’t have time to even hate him right now, though. After scowling at him, he pushed him out of his mind and turned back to his father, urging, “Ada, they will bite him again when the light goes away. I have to go back now. You see that, right?”

The thought of his youngest child lying in the dark being bitten by rats hurt more than any wound he’d received in battle, but Elrond wasn’t willing to let his other son face similar perils. “I will not have you go back,” he said grimly. “What if you were hurt as well? We could not go after you.”

Elladan looked at his father in disbelief. “You want me to just leave Elrohir there? Alone? No!”

He stood looking at Elrond in shock, no sign of despair remaining as incredulity filled Elladan. “I can’t just stay here while he’s trapped. I told him I would come back and I will!”

The little boy whipped around, addressing her with equal vehemence, “Ammë, I have to go back. I can’t leave him there alone. He needs me!”

“I understand, dear, but it’s too dangerous,” Celebrian shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she empathized with Elladan, feeling his anguish but not accepting further risk to him.

Elladan wasn’t content with being understood, however. He was going to return to his brother. Turning his back on his parents, he started back up the rock but was pulled down by Elrond, who was beginning to lose his patience.

Everyone turned to look in the direction of the clear, young voice that cut through Elladan’s shouts. Finding its source, they all stared at the blond child who suddenly found himself the center of attention.

A little uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him, Legolas nevertheless stood his ground and added, “If Elladan can make it, I could too. And with me to help him, we could get Elrohir out.”

Thranduil glanced at his wife and shook his head, saying, “Absolutely not. Lord Elrond will not even permit Elladan to go back. It is too dangerous.”

Honestly, Legolas would have loved to shout and fuss like Elladan had—Elrohir was his friend and the thought of him being stuck in some dark cave alone made him angry—but the young prince knew from experience that he’d get farther with his parents if he remained calm, so as diplomatically as he could, he said, “Elrohir is my friend and you have taught me that I should always help friends. You said we shouldn’t count the cost to ourselves when others are in need. So should I not go to him now, since his need is undeniable?”

The elven king allowed a scowl of his own to flit across his face when he heard his son neatly fling one of his own lessons back at him. But before he could become truly annoyed, he reconsidered and allowed a sense of pride to flow through him at his young son’s careful, logical argument and his obvious willingness to take a risk in order to help his friend. His little one would make a exceptional leader one day, he decided, barely keeping a smile off his face.

Before the proud father could respond to Legolas, however, Elrond cut in very formally, “Thank you, Prince Legolas, for your brave offer, but I must agree with your father. We cannot risk you children. We will find another way.”

Legolas looked at Elrond and then turned hopeful eyes back to his father—he was fairly certain that his father had been ready to capitulate. He was carefully planning his next words when Elladan, who could not remain calm in the face of his twin’s need, erupted again. Eyes flashing with anger, he shouted, “No! You don’t understand! He’s scared, Ada. He feels different, but I can still tell that he is scared. He is hurt and he doesn’t want to be alone. I have to go back! Now!”

Celebrian’s tears finally overflowed at the thought of her little boy, hurt and scared in the dark cave, surrounded by rats. She feared for him and she wanted to send someone, anyone back for him, even if it was Elladan. But another, equal part of her also feared what might happen to Elladan if they allowed him to go where none of them could follow. She turned to her husband, hoping he might have some other answer.

Feeling as never before the unending burden of leadership, Elrond wiped his face with his hand and struggled to think of an answer. How could he save Elrohir without endangering other children? Oh, how could he be expected to make a good decision when he was nearly ill with worry?

A hand on his shoulder caused him to turn and he looked into the eyes of his fellow ruler. Thranduil’s eyes showed deep understanding of the weight placed on Elrond’s shoulders and the elven lord smiled faintly, grateful for the unspoken support. What Thranduil said, however, surprised him.

When Elrond, shocked, said nothing, Thranduil continued, “We can give them firm guidelines on what they may and may not attempt so they will be as safe as possible. They are correct, you know. It is Elrohir’s best hope.”

Elrond looked at him for just a moment longer, seeing that Thranduil was indeed serious, and then turned to his wife. Her face told him her answer—yes, with Legolas to accompany Elladan, she thought it was worth the risk.

Grateful to have a way ahead, the elven lord nodded grimly and turned to the little boys, now standing next to each other. Making himself look as stern as possible, he said, “Very well. You two may go, but you will listen to what we tell you and you will swear to obey, understood?”

A/N: My friends…I’m so sorry for the horribly long delay. I got about half the chapter written and then hit a brick wall when I didn’t even have time to turn on the computer, let alone write. RL has a way of interfering despite the best of intentions. If I’d know this would happen, I wouldn’t have started posting until the whole story was done. :( I’m hoping to get the next chapter out sooner than this one, but can’t make any promises. I’ll understand if you give up on me and move on. Sigh….

As Elladan crawled into the tunnel entrance and along the rocky path, his heart was light. This was so different from his other trip. Not only did he have his parents’ approval to be here (which, the little boy admitted to himself, made him feel a LOT better), but he also had a companion—someone along to share the burden. He hadn’t fully understood before just how much he relied on Elrohir’s company and how much easier it was to be brave when you weren’t alone. Legolas’ presence behind him changed a worrying experience into an adventure and Elladan was enjoying himself as he scrambled through the narrow passages. Yes, Elrohir still needed rescuing, but now he was confident that, with Legolas’ help and the ropes and blanket they carried, his twin would soon be safe.

Legolas, too, was enjoying himself. Although he was a wood elf who would always be happier surrounded by his beloved trees, he was thrilled to be on his first real mission and spent his time imagining himself a daring warrior about to face some outrageously large, fearsome beast.

With pleasant thoughts filling both their heads, the two boys crawled, wriggled, and scraped through the tunnel until they finally reached where it ended at the sunken cavern. It was only at that point, overlooking the smelly, dark cavern that the dread Elladan had felt earlier crept back into his consciousness. Peering over the edge, he saw Elrohir lying exactly where he’d been left, his unmoving form outlined by the torch that still burned dimly. Once again seeing his twin, alone except for the nasty little rats still scurrying around the cave, caused the usually brave little boy to shiver. Ro wouldn’t want to be here. He had to get him out…now.

Turning solemn eyes to Legolas, Elladan said quietly, “Let’s hurry. I don’t like this place.”

Legolas nodded, not saying anything as quickly followed Elladan down the cave wall. Even the memory of the pride he’d seen in his father’s eyes couldn’t prevent his excitement from fading with the sight of his little friend lying motionless amongst the rocks. Suddenly, this was no game and the earlier worry he’d felt for Elrohir came back to him in a great rush.

The fresh torches that the boys had brought lit the room up brightly, helping somewhat to dispel the gloom, but also showing them their companion’s condition clearly for the first time.

Elladan immediately fell to his knees and put his hand on Elrohir’s face, like his mother had done to them countless times to express her love. He hoped that Elrohir could feel it and know that he’d returned as promised. He bent over and whispered something into his twin’s ear, then sat back up as he tried to assess Elrohir’s condition further in the torchlight.

Legolas remained standing, unexpectedly shocked to see the blood and bruises that covered Elrohir. He had, in his short life, seen wounds before, even serious ones on some of his father’s warriors. But never had he seen a playmate in such condition. Of course he had known that Elrohir was injured and he knew that bad things could happen even to little elves, but knowing that in your head was far different than seeing your friend hurt and unconscious. He reached forward and tapped Elladan on his back, whispering hoarsely, “Is he okay?”

Elladan didn’t look away from his brother, instead shrugging and answering curtly, “Ada will fix him.”

Nodding absently, Legolas glanced around at his surroundings and whispered again, “This place is dark and cold and…and the rats are awful. Why would he even come here?”

“I don’t know,” responded Elladan shortly, not really interested in discussing anything except how to get Elrohir out.

“We are taught to stay in one place when we are lost. If Elrohir had remained in the main cavern, he would be safe by now. He shouldn’t have come here,” continued Legolas, mostly just to hear some sound other than the incessant movements of the rats.

Elladan, however, finally paying attention to what Legolas was saying, glared up at him and said sharply, “Well you’ll just have to ask him why he came. I know he had a good reason. He isn’t stupid!”

The blond elf tried to apologize, honestly not meaning to criticize Elrohir, but his voice trailed off when he realized Elladan wasn’t listening again. With a sigh, he dropped to his knees next to Elladan and said instead, “So what do you want to do first?”

Elladan looked over at the concerned face of his friend and felt the irritation seep out of him. He wasn’t really mad at Legolas—he was just worried about Elrohir. Also, he appreciated how Legolas was letting him take the lead. Usually the two of them would squabble over who got to be in charge of their little escapades, so he was grateful that Legolas understood how important it was to him to be the leader and make the decisions when it came to Elrohir.

Turning back to his brother, he answered over his shoulder, “Ada said to make the harness first and then wrap him up in the blanket. How about you do the rope harness while I get the blanket under him?”

Legolas acknowledged his friend’s suggestion and began tying the intricate sling that they would use to pull Elrohir up from the cave floor. It wasn’t something he’d had to do before except during training, but apparently the repetitious lessons had been useful after all and he quickly created a workable harness from the rope.

Elladan was having a bit more difficulty with his task. Although Elrohir wasn’t very big, neither was Elladan and he wasn’t able to hold Elrohir up with just one hand while spreading the blanket beneath him with the other. The third time he nearly dropped Elrohir, Legolas felt compelled to say something, although was afraid that Elladan might not appreciate it.

“Elladan, just lay him back down, spread the blanket out beside him, and then we’ll roll him on to it.”

The look on Elladan’s face was comical. It was so obvious and simple. Not sure if he should be mad at himself for being so stupid or mad at Legolas for pointing it out to him, the little boy sat there with his mouth open until he finally decided to do neither and instead followed the very sensible suggestion, gently laying Elrohir back on the ground.

With the two boys working together, the rope harness was soon snug under Elrohir’s arms and the blanket securely wrapped around him, tied with the other rope. The top of the blanket could be draped over his face if needed to protect him, but for now his face peeked out of the blankets and he looked like a tiny elfling wrapped in bunting.

Feeling better now that Elrohir looked snug and they could no longer see his injuries, the two rescuers grinned at each other and considered their next task—to get Elrohir up the wall. In theory, it was easy. They would move Elrohir to the foot of the wall and sit him up, climb to the top themselves carrying up one end of the rope, then they would carefully pull him up while the blanket protected him from more bumps and scrapes.

His voice more confident than it had been since Elrohir went missing, Elladan said to his friend, “You take his left side, I’ll take the right and we can prop him against that hollow there so he won’t fall over.”

Seeing a place on the wall that curved in slightly, Legolas nodded and the boys gingerly pulled Elrohir to the indicated spot. Elladan patted his brother on the shoulder and said jauntily, “We’ll have you out of this old cave in no time. You just wait here.”

He scooped up the end of the rope and flew up the wall, waiting for Legolas to join him before the two of them started to carefully pull Elrohir up. The first few feet went well, but then the rope snagged on a sharp rock and Legolas had to climb back down to unhook it. Of course, that left Elladan holding all his brother’s weight, which had his arms trembling by the time Legolas rejoined him. His confident air diminished significantly, Elladan brusquely said, “Let’s finish pulling him up,” hoping to get his twin up the wall before his arms gave out.

With Legolas’ help and no further bad luck, they soon had Elrohir lying on the top of the wall, glad to see the blanket still securely in place. Pleased that they apparently hadn’t added to his hurts, they reviewed their next goal—getting Elrohir through the tunnel without banging him up further.

Elladan waved his torch into the tunnel and then looked back at his brother resting on the ground. He wasn’t as confident this time. There were so many tight spots and he also had been shaken when he realized he might not be able to hold Elrohir’s weight for long. Of course, in the tunnel he’d just be dragging him, not lifting him, but it would still need a lot of strength. Then again, Legolas really wasn’t any bigger than him and thus wouldn’t be stronger, so Elladan figured he might as well take on the larger burden. After all, it was Elrohir they were saving.

“I will,” he said in answer to Legolas’ question. “You can come behind and help if the blanket gets caught.”

Legolas frowned. Now that he thought about it, how could Elladan pull his brother the whole way? It was far and would be difficult for either of them alone. Maybe if they both went before Elrohir and pulled the rope…

“Perhaps I should directly follow you and we can both pull Elrohir. It would be much faster that way,” he offered.

Elladan was tempted. He honestly was afraid he’d be unable to pull Elrohir all the way. But their fathers had been clear that one should be in front and one behind to help with snags, so reluctantly he said, “Nay, I’ll just rest if I have to. Come…we shouldn’t delay any longer.”

Gently flipping the blanket edge over Elrohir’s face, Elladan swiftly made a small harness for himself, although unlike Elrohir’s this one went over his shoulders. Signaling to Legolas that he was ready, he started to crawl into the tunnel, slowing when he felt the resistance of his brother’s weight before straining to begin pulling him.

As he made his way across the rocky path, Elladan knew Legolas was following behind from the reflected light of the torch that the prince carried. He had no breath for conversation so didn’t speak to his companion, but was glad for the light as well as the reminder that he wasn’t in this alone.

The trip back seemed to take an eternity. Elladan was certain that his brother must have doubled his weight since they’d entered the tunnel, for his arms and shoulders were aching with the strain after just a short while. And he didn’t even want to consider how much his knees hurt. They had already been scraped up from before and it didn’t help them now to be digging into the ground for leverage as he dragged his twin behind him. They hurt so bad that he might have cried, but he simply didn’t have the energy so instead he concentrated solely on pulling Elrohir.

The boys made their way slowly, talking to each other only when they had to coordinate getting Elrohir through some tricky spot. Otherwise, Elladan saved his breath and simply pulled, pulled, pulled. He found it getting harder and harder, though, as he inched his way forward, oftentimes having to stop to rest before once again starting forward. After awhile, he stopped thinking about anything as his world shrank into a never-ending need to pull his brother forward. He didn’t even think about his surroundings when he finally reached the spot where his mother had been forced to turn back. He just squirmed his way through and then started yanking on the rope, only stopping when he couldn’t make any headway, despite his best efforts. Finally, his mind refocused and he looked back in dismay at Elrohir’s shoulders wedged in the narrow crevice. It had been an extremely tight fit even for him—how could he possibly pull the blanket-wrapped Elrohir through?

He heard the voice from beyond Elrohir calling out, obviously concerned since he was “resting” much longer than usual, but he didn’t answer. His mind was overwhelmed with the understanding that Elrohir wouldn’t fit through the narrow hole.

Dead silence met that statement, eventually followed by a quieter, “Are you too tired? I knew I should have gone ahead with you and helped you pull.”

Bristling with the thought that he’d ever be too tired to save his twin, Elladan snapped, “Nay! Of course not! I can still pull him. But the hole is too small here. Ro won’t fit through.”

Even with the distance between them, Elladan heard Legolas’ sigh of irritation.

Exhausted and upset, Elladan shouted back, “I know that! But the blanket makes him too big.”

When only silence met his remark, he finally added, “Legolas? Did you hear me?”

“Well, you could think out loud,” Elladan grumbled to himself. He was so tired and sitting there was making all of his own scrapes and bumps more noticeable. His knees hurt, his hands hurt, his shoulders ached dreadfully, and worst of all, he still couldn’t feel that usual connection with Elrohir. He looked at the dark head laying in the blankets just behind him and his irritation slid into despair. Elrohir still hadn’t moved and he couldn’t think of how to get him out. He wriggled out of his harness and gently tried to push his brother’s tangled hair out of his face several times before eventually giving up. Elrohir was wedged almost on his side and the hair kept falling back every time Elladan pushed it aside. With a tired sigh, he sat back against the rocks with a thump, staring down at his hands. In the dim light, he noted almost with disinterest that he’d managed to gather a few more cuts along the way. Ada would have to fix them. But…if he couldn’t bring Elrohir out, then of course he wouldn’t be going back to his parents either. He couldn’t leave Elrohir. He’d have to find a way to let Legolas past, he supposed. No need for him to stay here with them. He wondered how long it would take them to die. And what they would die from. Hunger? Thirst? Would the rats come and finish them off? It wasn’t a very pleasant thought. Still, he’d be with twin and he’d promised Elrohir he’d come back for him, even though he’d failed in his promise to save him. Did the Valar punish those who broke promises? Would they...

“Huh?” Elladan snapped out of his tired, rambling thoughts and raised his head as he heard someone shouting.

Legolas impatiently repeated himself, “For the third time, I said, ‘what do you think?’”

Elladan shook his head to further clear his thoughts. What was Legolas talking about?

“I…I couldn’t hear you,” he said, stretching the truth just a bit since he didn’t want to answer questions about the thoughts that had prevented him from hearing his friend.

Legolas took this to mean that he should speak even louder, so he practically yelled as he said, “I can pull Elrohir back through to this side, unwrap the blankets, and then tie the ropes around his wrists and you can pull him through like that. That would make him small enough. What do you think?”

Elladan did not think much of that idea. “He’d get scraped up even more. No!”

“He’s already hurt. And besides, your Ada can fix everything. They even say that in Greenwood, you know. At least this way he could help Elrohir.”

Elladan thought about arguing further, but stopped when he thought about Legolas’ words. He was right, of course. It did Elrohir no good to stay stuck here and he had to admit that it sure felt nice to hear praise for his father. Despite the circumstances, Elladan allowed a small grin in the near-dark. Legolas was certainly acting smarter than he was once again. He hoped he usually wasn’t so stupid, but consoled himself by deciding it was worry over Elrohir that was making him so dense. Rolling his eyes at his own foolishness, he reflected again how very grateful he was to have Legolas along. Even in these dire straits, the blond prince could be relied upon to lighten his heart and also come up good ideas.

Raising his voice a bit himself, Elladan answered, “Your idea does sound good. You start pulling him back and I’ll make sure he doesn’t get stuck on this side.”

Almost immediately, Legolas started tugging Elrohir back out of the tight gap in the rocks and with Elladan’s help, soon had him lying on the ground in the wider part of the tunnel. He untied the ropes around the blankets, unwrapped Elrohir, and quickly retied the harness rope around his friend’s hands. He grimaced when he looked at the opening they’d have to squeeze Elrohir through. It was narrow and Elladan was right—Elrohir would get more scrapes. But then again, he’d been right as well. Better to get Elrohir through with a few more scrapes than leave him stuck in this awful place. With that thought uppermost in his mind, he threw the end of the rope back to Elladan and did what he could to guide Elrohir through the passage.

Countless long, stressful minutes later, Elrohir was through the crevice and lying on the path by Elladan. Seeing his twin again without the blanket wrapped around him and several new cuts and scrapes filled Elladan with hopelessness. When would this nightmare be over? He couldn’t stand seeing his brother like this. And he was so tired—he almost couldn’t bear the thought of having to start pulling again. Where would he find the strength? This was too hard……..Then he shook his head. This was not the way for a lord’s son to act and Elrohir needed him! He would find the strength because he had to.

Swiftly untying the ropes from Elrohir’s hands, he once more fashioned the harness and looped it under Elrohir’s arms. The tunnel was too narrow, however, to get the blanket back around the dead weight of his twin. Resigning himself that Elrohir would just have to suffer a few more scrapes, Elladan left the blanket behind and once again began the arduous task of pulling his brother to safety.

The first time Elladan had disappeared into the tunnel, Elrond and Celebrian had waited outside impatiently until he returned. This time was no different—they sat, not even speaking as they looked for any sign of the children. But this time when Elladan came into view, Celebrian was not content to let Elrond take the lead. To his complete astonishment, she shouldered her husband aside in an all-consuming need to see and touch her lost child. She gave a quick kiss to Elladan and passed the obviously exhausted child to her husband, reaching into the rocks and pulling Elrohir the rest of the way out, scooping him up as she held him lovingly.

“Elrohir, it’s Ammë,” she crooned softly. “You’re safe, baby. Now let me see those lovely eyes of yours.”

Bending over and smothering the cherished little face in kisses, she continued calling to her youngest child, tears filling her eyes as it slowly became apparent that he wasn’t responding to her. The small form lay limply in her arms, not making any sound or movement except for the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Never before had she failed to reach one of her children and a tiny thread of panic started to weave itself into her voice as she continued to call to him.

“Elrohir, wake up…I have you…you are safe…open your eyes and see…please, baby…talk to me!”

She gently stroked the hair from his face, only now truly seeing the cuts and bruises that marred his pale skin. She began to tremble as her eyes flew from his face to the rest of his body, her mind trying to deny what her eyes were telling her—her little one was more injured than she was willing to admit.

She vaguely heard a deep voice saying something, but ignored it as she pulled Elrohir up to her shoulder and murmured loving sounds into his ear as she stroked the back of his head.

The lady closed her eyes to drown out the unwanted sound as she put all of her focus on her baby, rocking while she continued to use tender pleas to reach Elrohir. She successfully blocked out the rest of the world until she felt her son being pulled from her arms. Eyes flying open, her grasp tightened and she shouted, “No!”

The power, the unspoken demand to be obeyed in that one word finally broke through and Celebrian loosened her hold in shock, at last realizing that it was her husband trying to take Elrohir into his own arms.

Elrond’s quick gaze asked forgiveness for his harsh tone, but he said nothing else to Celebrian as he pulled Elrohir away from her. He untangled the rope from under Elrohir’s arms, then paused for one brief moment of thankfulness to feel the living, breathing body of his son before turning his thoughts towards determining Elrohir’s condition.

He cradled his son in one arm and laid his other hand on the small chest, concentrating as he pulled on millennia of experience in healing. What he found was disturbing. Like Celebrian, he had never failed to reach either of his children and he was dismayed when he was unable to touch Elrohir’s deeply buried consciousness.

With a sigh, Elrond regarded his son as objectively as possible, listing in his mind the injuries he would need to treat. The myriad scrapes and bruises were to be expected—anyone traipsing through caves in the dark were bound to have a number of them. The broken ankle was also not a surprise. He was almost surprised there weren’t more broken bones since it would be so easy to fall when one had no idea where they were going. But what truly pushed the elven lord to the limits of his composure were the number of rat bites that could be seen on Elrohir’s feet, legs, hands, arms, neck, and even his face. To collect scrapes and bumps and even broken limbs would be painful and frightening, but to be trapped in the pitch dark with countless creatures biting you must have been utterly terrifying. His little one must have been so scared to be alone and unable to protect himself when the rats attacked him. It hurt to think of the terror he knew Elrohir must have felt.

The great lord never lost his serene countenance, though. Now was not the time to show his own distress to anyone, especially the two wide-eyed, exhausted and worried elflings who were crouched beside him and watching his every move. With one more kiss to Elrohir’s forehead, Elrond looked up at them and smiled.

“You did well. You were both very brave and did a wonderful thing for Elrohir. I thank you for your courage and for bringing him back. You are true heroes. Now boys, Elrohir will be fine, but we must take him home so he may be attended properly. Please climb down to the others so we may start back.”

Elladan and Legolas smiled at each other before quickly moving to obey. Their exhaustion and own small hurts were pushed aside as joy filled them—Elrohir would be fine and they…well they were heroes!

Elrond shifted Elrohir so he could carry him in just one arm and moved to follow the boys, but Celebrian stopped him with a hand on his arm, the expression on her face clearly begging for some reassurance of her own.

Inwardly chiding himself for not thinking of it himself, he paused and gently squeezed her hand. “Elrohir has several injuries that must be treated, but none are severe,” he said calmly, hesitating just a moment before continuing carefully, “I am concerned that he is not responding to me, but it could be simple exhaustion. Let us not worry overly until I can better assess his condition.”

Celebrian squeezed her husband’s hand tighter, both taking and providing comfort as the two parents shared their concern for their son. She gave him a tremulous smile and then nimbly climbed down the rock wall, waiting below to assist him if needed.

The elf lord had no trouble scaling the rock, even carrying his son, so soon he joined the others on the floor of the main cavern and was surrounded by the searchers. When they caught a glimpse of their little lord, many of the assembled elves gasped in horror at the sight. They had no way of knowing that most the countless injuries were minor. All they saw was the body of a small child, covered in blood and bruises. As elves cherished all children, it was especially distressing to see this well-loved boy in such a state.

The concern of the adult searchers was nothing compared to that of the two culprits, however. Johir sunk to his knees at the sight of the little elf and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe he had caused this with his stupid idea of a joke. And Belmandren cried out as he looked at Elrohir. He compared the bleeding, unconscious little elf to an earlier image of Elrohir, his eyes alight as he looked around the cave in delighted wonder. Ill with self-loathing, Belmandren turned and ran out of the cave, unable to further witness the destructive consequences of his foolish actions.

With no time to waste on the two despairing youths, the next few moments were a flurry of activity. The group quickly made their way to the cave’s entrance and Elrohir was gently passed outside to his mother, who had gone ahead. She held him until Elrond mounted one of the horses that the guard had brought for them and handed her son to him before mounting her own horse and pulling Elladan in front of her. They practically flew to their home and within no time at all had Elrohir safely lying on one of the infirmary beds.

Elrond sent everyone out of his workspace as he and his assistants quickly cut the tattered clothes from his son and set about cleaning and binding his wounds. By the time they were finished and had the little boy clothed in a nightshirt and tucked into bed, Celebrian was back with a bathed Elladan, whose own injuries had been tended by one of Elrond’s many healers. The two approached Elrohir’s bed carefully, almost as if afraid of what they’d find.

Elrond’s words reassured them both, however. “He will heal quickly. The injuries looked far worse than they were in actuality. He needs rest, but have no fear. I expect he will be up and causing trouble in no time.”

Although the last was said with a smile, the smile didn’t quite make it to his eyes and Celebrian looked at him warily. A small shake of his head asked her to not press for answers now, however, so she kept her questions until after Elladan had been sent to join Legolas for lunch. He had gone reluctantly, but when promised that he could return with Legolas after they’d eaten, he finally left and Elrond was able to speak freely.

“His injuries are not serious, as I said, but I do have grave concern for him.”

Celebrian had been expecting these words, as her own instincts were telling her something was wrong, but even so, hearing them made her heart thump wildly. As steadily as she could, she said, “Please explain.”

Elrond put his arm around Celebrian’s shoulder as she looked down on her child. Then he said, “His wounds will heal easily. I am surprised they are not more severe, in truth. However, I still am unable to reach him. Even considering his long ordeal and lack of food or water, he should not be so deeply unconscious. I fear for his spirit.”

Celebrian seemed to wilt under him as he said those words and he wished he could have found some gentler way to say them. But he couldn’t unsay what had already been said, so he tried to alleviate her fears as much as possible.

“I expect he was terribly frightened and found the best way to block out reality was simply to escape from it in his mind. Once he realizes he is safe, he will likely awaken and be as before.”

Celebrian shook off her husband’s arm and turned to him, worry making her voice harsh, “And how is he to know he is safe if he has tucked his consciousness away in some far-away place? How do we reach him and let him know he is home?”

Wishing he knew the answer, Elrond looked back at his wife and finally felt himself droop a little as well as he answered honestly, “I do not know.”

Many visitors came and went, all deeply worried for the little elf who looked so small and lost in the big bed. The most frequent visitors, other than his parents, were Elladan and Legolas, who found the thought of playing unthinkable as long as Elrohir was unable to join them. They came as often as their parents allowed and sat by his bed, holding long conversations with him in hopes that he would finally respond.

At first, he lay still as death, only his soft breathing assuring the boys that he still lived. However the change, when it finally came, was worse. It was the onset of endless nightmares. From the start, they were violent and frightening as Elrohir began thrashing about, screaming incoherently. No one could calm him regardless of who tried. Elrond even allowed Elladan to try to reach his twin, but after Elrohir lashed out mindlessly and knocked Elladan to the floor, they kept the younger elves away from him, afraid they would be unable to prevent injuries. Elrohir calmed down only when his body exhausted itself and was unable to continue, but otherwise, he continued to rant, trapped in his nightmare world.

After a couple of days of this, everyone was disheartened, not knowing how to break through to him. Elladan and Legolas no longer visited as often, more frightened than they would like to admit to see their playmate so troubled.

Then the situation changed once more. It was Elladan who first noticed it, since it initially manifested itself as that indefinable “something” that linked the twins together. For the first time since days ago when he’d realized that something was wrong, Elladan felt a spark that told him his twin was still out there somewhere, trying to find his way back. He ran to his parents and told them what he’d felt, renewing everyone’s hope that Elrohir would soon return to them.

A clearer manifestation of the change, though, was in Elrohir himself. His nightmares lessened in intensity and his words began to be more coherent. For the most part his words were still not intelligible when he cried out, but at times he could be heard calling for his twin, his parents, and even Johir and Belmandren.

When he called for them individually, his parents and Elladan each tried to reach Elrohir. Johir and Belmandren, however, were not allowed anywhere near him. Since the beginning, the two older boys had been haunting the halls outside the infirmary. And when they heard that Elrohir had called for them, they begged to see him. The two were completely ashamed of their earlier behavior and were desperate to find some way to make things right. But it wasn’t to be. Elrond and Celebrian were not ready to forgive them. Although well-known as wise and compassionate beings, this once they were not able to put aside their emotional response to their child’s injury caused by these thoughtless boys—as far as they were concerned, Johir and Belmandren had done enough damage and weren’t welcome.

The cold dismissal received from the Lord and Lady of Imladris was enough to finally send Johir away from Elrohir, still concerned for the little boy but far more afraid of disobeying his lord. Belmandren, however, wouldn’t be dissuaded from lingering. He only had thoughts for Elrohir and he couldn’t be bothered with worries for himself. The image of Elrohir in the cave, unconscious and bleeding was fixed in his mind and he was determined to risk everything if somehow he could help him. Thus, just before dawn on the sixth day after Elrohir’s rescue, Belmandren finally saw his chance to sneak in when most of the household was asleep and the night-shift healer in attendance was called away to attend to a minor emergency.

He poked his head in and, seeing no one but Elrohir, crept over to where he lay. His spirits plummeted as he looked upon the little boy, pale and still on the bed. What could he possibly do that others had not already tried?

Lost in his own depressing thoughts, he jumped a foot when he heard Lord Elrond’s voice right behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“Apparently,” said the lord coldly. “You believed we would leave my son alone in his condition?”

When the youth shook his head in fright, Elrond added, again in icy tones, “I was merely in the side room, mixing herbs to aid Niadron, who is attending to an accident in the kitchens. He will be here shortly with the injured elf. Now that the situation is clear, I suggest you leave.”

Belmandren scrunched his eyes shut and after a deep breath opened them again, reaching into some inner well of strength before he said, “My lord, please. I…I’ve heard him calling me while I was out in the hall. Please let me talk to him.”

Still unwilling to leave, now that he was so close, the tall youth tried again, “My lord, I promise I will leave at the first sign I am bothering him, but I must try…please!”

Elrond turned his furious glare on the youngster, impressed despite himself when Belmandren paled, but didn’t budge.

It felt like an eternity to Belmandren, but it was only a moment before Elrond admitted, if only to himself, that he didn’t expect Belmandren’s presence would hurt anything. So he narrowed his eyes and said carefully, “Very well, you may stay…for now, but only if you stand over by the wall and do not approach him.”

Correctly reading the warning in the tone, Belmandren gulped and nodded. At least it was better than being stuck out in the hallway. He stood silently for awhile, watching Elrond finish making his herbal mixture before asking timidly, “Please…do you know why he won’t awaken?”

Elrond was tempted to ignore the boy, but acknowledged that he hadn’t told the youth to be silent, so he answered, “As near as I can discern, he thinks he is still trapped in the cave and will not respond to any of us.”

“Then perhaps, my lord, since I was in the cave with him, he might answer to me,” Belmandren offered.

Belmandren looked hopefully at his lord, but received no response except for a frown.

“I said you may stay if you did not approach him,” Elrond said with exasperation. He supposed he should just send the boy out of the room, but he did appreciate the lad’s determination.

Turning abruptly to Belmandren, Elrond said, “Very well. You may speak to him. But when I say stop, you stop. And if I say leave, you leave. No more questions. No more pleading. Understood?”

Nodding rapidly, Belmandren hesitated a moment to see if there would be any other instructions, and then moved over to the bed.

“Elrohir,” he said tentatively. “It’s Belmandren. Uhm…won’t you please wake up? I would like to speak to you. It really is a lovely day. You would enjoy it.”

A slight sound distracted him and he looked up to see Elrond moving to the door where Niandron, one of the healers, was escorting in an elf with a scalded arm. Emboldened now that his every word wasn’t being followed, he bent closer to Elrohir and said quietly, “Elrohir, do you still believe you are in the cave? You are not. You are home and safe, you know. Nothing can hurt you now.”

He glanced up to see if the others had heard and then started in shock when he found Elrond standing directly behind him. How did he move so quietly?

“Naturally, we have tried telling him he was safe,” Elrond said, once again in that cold voice. “Your efforts are a waste of time. Perhaps you should leave before you give Elrohir another nightmare by mentioning the cave.”

Every instinct told Belmandren that his continued presence was greatly irritating his lord and he should leave, but his heart was telling him that he could make a difference. He now had an idea of what to do and he wanted to see if it would help Elrohir. Besides, Lord Elrond hadn’t insisted he leave, he had said ‘perhaps,’ so Belmandren ignored his inner warnings and asked as boldly as his shaky voice could allow, “My lord…may I touch him?”

Once again weighing the options and coming to the conclusion that Belmandren would not hurt Elrohir’s chance of recovery, Elrond finally nodded.

Eager to act fast before Lord Elrond changed his mind, Belmandren gently took Elrohir’s bandaged little hand and tugged on it. “Come,” he said. “It is time to go home. Open your eyes, so we can get out of the cave. Come along now…I won’t let anything get you.”

Elrond had decided to watch Belmandren’s every move, but with those words he turned away before he could say anything he would regret. This is what the foolish boy should have done days ago, rather than leave his little one alone in the cave, afraid, hurt, cold….he fought a need to lash out at the thoughtless boy, but held his tongue as he moved to the window and then stared out it intently.

Belmandren glanced over at his lord, fully aware of the tightly-leashed anger that was directed at him. The very stiffness of Lord Elrond’s posture told him more than any words just how much his lord despised his actions. It made him more than a little nervous, but now that he was with Elrohir, he wasn’t about to let anything drive him away. If he could help the little one, he would do whatever he could to make things right, even suffer the wrath of Lord Elrond.

Feeling the warmth of the small hand within his, Belmandren turned away from the grim elven lord and then deliberately made himself ignore him. He would accept his punishment in due time, but for now, he had different priorities. Moving as silently as he could so as not to attract Lord Elrond’s attention, he carefully climbed onto the bed and oh-so delicately drew the small elf into his arms.

“Elrohir…” he began, but then stopped as his voice broke. Holding the little elf made him realize just how young and innocent Elrohir was. How could he have ever done anything to harm this small one? It was just supposed to be a silly joke, nothing more—a silly harmless little joke. But this was a nightmare. Sitting there with Elrohir in his arms, he knew he’d never forgive himself for his actions. Even if Elrohir recovered and everyone else forgave him, he would never forget what he’d done.

He blinked back threatening tears and took a shuddering breath to calm himself before trying again, “Elrohir, I have you now. Do you feel my arms around you? You are safe and I am going to carry you out of the cave. You don’t have to do anything, just rest in my arms and know you are safe.”

With that, he scooted off the bed with Elrohir held tightly in his arms and slowly began to walk around the room, faltering only when he came near Lord Elrond, who was still standing by the window, his back rigid with anger. He was grateful, in a way, that Elrond wasn’t looking at him, certain that he didn’t want to see his expression. With a rather nervous glance toward his lord, Belmandren continued along his circular path, once more turning his focus to Elrohir.

He held the little boy snugly, talking to him non-stop as he strolled slowly around the room, intent on only one thing—bringing Elrohir back from wherever he’d hidden his inner self. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours that they walked thus, Belmandren not really aware of anything but the light burden in his arms.

When the change finally came, he almost didn’t catch it. It was slight—Elrohir simply sighed and moved his head. It was enough to bring hope, however, and he stopped as he stared, looking for another sign.

The little elf didn’t answer directly, but made a noise. The first one that wasn’t a sound of pain or terror.

Elrond turned away from the window, a light in his eyes when he looked at the youth holding his son. Maybe he could get through to Elrohir.

“They said he was in here! Why? What is he doing? Make him go away, Ada! He can’t touch Elrohir!”

A few minutes earlier and Elrond may have agreed, but instead he scooped Elladan up quickly and carried him to other end of room, explaining in a low, rapid voice, “Elladan, Belmandren will not hurt your brother. He is trying to make Elrohir believe he is being carried out of the cave and I think it is working. Perhaps Elrohir needs to hear his voice in order to come back from wherever he is hiding. Just be patient for a moment.”

Belmandren had looked at his lord in dread when Elladan burst in, sure that he’d be told to leave. But when he saw Lord Elrond dealing with Elladan, he felt a wave of relief wash over him and turned back to the elfling in his arms, once more ignoring all others in the room.

“Elrohir, look. We are out of the cave now. Oh my, the sun is up and is so bright. Open your eyes and see. It is a beautiful, warm day. Please look,” he ended in a whisper.

Belmandren froze at the sound, then choked out, “What? Elrohir? Did you say something?”

Eyes that had been shut for far too long flickered and opened, grey eyes looking blearily at the elf holding him. With confusion plainly written on his face, Elrohir mumbled, “Beldrnin…what…why?”

Belmandren stared down at the face looking up at him, not bothering to wipe away the tears that formed in his eyes. His throat closed up, but he hugged the little boy close until Elrohir pushed away and looked wearily around the room.

“What…why are you here, Beldrn…Bel…Belmr…den?” Elrohir slurred, his befuddled mind unable to pronounce the name clearly.

“Why don’t you just call me Belder,” said the youth with a choked smile, finding his voice again. “My wee sister finds it easier.”

Elrohir nodded tiredly, but then his eyes caught movement near the window. He blinked and the shape became clear. “Ada,” he called as loud as he could.

His voice was barely over a whisper, but the elven lord knew his son’s call. He rushed over to where Belmandren stood, Elladan still in his arms. He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw Elrohir’s eyes open, looking at him in confusion, but open and aware. He set Elladan down on his twin’s bed and then reached out his arms to the youth holding Elrohir.

Still somewhat in shock, Belmandren held onto Elrohir for a moment before finally giving Elrohir one last unsteady smile and handing him to his father.

“Ada, what happened,” asked the bewildered little boy as he found himself gripped in a tight hug. Everything ached and he felt so tired. And Elladan was calling out his name and crying.

Things only got worse moments later when Celebrian flew into the room, somehow aware that momentous things were happening with her family. She, too was crying, and he suddenly ended up in her arms. With everything so confusing and his body hurting more with every little movement he made, Elrohir was becoming upset himself. Weakly trying to pull back so he could see his mother, he asked again almost in tears, “What happened? Why am I here?”

“Oh baby, I’m so glad you’re awake,” responded Celebrian, not answering his question.

But Elladan wasn’t helpful either. “Ro!” he called out, half crying and half laughing.

Elrohir was feeling very worried and disoriented until his eyes fell onto Belmandren and with a violent rush, he remembered much more that he wanted to—the dark, the fear, the pain, the hunger, and most of all, the rats. His eyes flying wide open in remembered horror, he dove back into his mother’s embrace and began crying desperately.

The small group around the fire pit was silent, each lost in his own thoughts as Elladan’s voice faded away. It was only at that moment that Estel realized it had been his brother speaking rather than Legolas—at some point during the story, Elladan had taken over narrating the long-ago events, filling in details that had been unknown to Legolas.

At first the trio were locked in their own private reflections, but eventually the two elves looked over at Estel, wondering if the young man had understood what they were trying to tell him. When he felt the others’ eyes on him, Estel licked lips suddenly dry while he tried to think of some way to fill the inexplicably uncomfortable silence. As he struggled to come up with something appropriate, Elladan’s words once more intruded upon the quiet glade.

“That was the only time he ever cried about his misadventures in the cave—with that one exception, he tried to make us believe that it hadn’t been so terrible. At the time, I assumed getting lost had embarrassed him and he felt bad that Legolas and I had to rescue him. It didn’t occur to me that denying his terror was his way of trying to bury it away. After all, once he awoke Elrohir appeared to recover quite quickly. Within days he was out of the healing chambers and soon most of the physical traces of his ordeal vanished. His broken ankle took a bit longer but even that healed completely within just a few weeks. There was unseen damage that lingered, however. Someone who didn’t know him would not see it. They would see him as healthy and whole and think nothing had happened to him. But we knew different. His body was healed, but inside he carried deep scars. He changed in ways that I, being so young, could not comprehend—a reluctance to be alone, frequent nightmares, a fear that would flicker in his eyes at certain noises, a quiet sadness about him that had never been there before.”

Elladan shook his head as he glanced at Estel and Legolas and asked, “Can you imagine Elrohir without that inner joy that is such an innate part of him?”

Not really expecting an answer to his rhetorical question, Elladan shook his head at the memory and continued his reminiscing with a sad smile, “But one of the most surprising changes for me was the way he absolutely refused to contradict any of my ideas for the longest time. In truth I rather enjoyed that particular change at first, but soon realized that I’d much rather have Elrohir as he had been, stubborn, standing up for his own beliefs, fighting to be an equal rather than my shadow. Oh, how I hated to see him so unsure. It took a fairly large mess that I dragged him into before that situation resolved itself. We got into so much trouble, but when Elrohir started yelling at me and shouting that he’d had enough of my stupid ideas…well, I counted any punishment well earned to finally have my twin back.”

Elladan, worn out as he was, grinned at the memory of little Elrohir stomping angrily about their rooms in a fury, but then his smile faded as he looked back at Estel. Today’s events were far from humorous and he had to make Estel understand if he were to help his two brothers.

“He eventually overcame the other changes as well. Or at least was able to hide them. In time he became my happy, if somewhat stubborn, companion again, but years later I learned there were some things that even time could not wash away. To this day he struggles to overcome his fears, but don’t you see, Estel, Elrohir does fight against it. He still presses on even when his memories threaten him. Do you understand?”

The young man looked up from the fire and acknowledged his brother with a cautious nod. Yes, he understood why Elrohir might not like rats—such a terrible experience would surely shape anyone’s view of them. But how could he tell Elladan, after such a long and sad story, that it still didn’t change the way he felt? So Elrohir had something bad happen to him as a child…it didn’t mean that Elrohir the adult should still allow it to guide his behavior. Elrohir the adult, the warrior, should be strong enough to ignore what happened to him in the past.

Considering the look on Estel’s face, Elladan frowned, concerned his point still hadn’t been made. Leaning forward, he pressed, “You do? You really understand, Estel? You understand now the true nature of courage?”

At that, Estel’s expression finally did lighten up with enthusiasm and he said, “Oh aye!”

The two elves started to relax with relief until Estel added, “You and Legolas were amazing!”

A/N: Yet another long delay between chapters, but at least Elrohir is FINALLY out of that stupid cave. Too bad Estel doesn’t quite get it, yet.

The tone should have been enough to communicate the crushing frustration coursing through Elladan. After everything he and Legolas had tried to convey, their roles in the story were supposed to be irrelevant. He had been propping himself up with an elbow, but now he allowed himself to flop back down onto his bedding, hissing when he jarred his ribs and shoulder. He was tired, he was hungry, and he ached in places he’d forgotten he had. He just wanted to rest, but now it looked like he’d have to do some more ‘big-brothering’ and he really, really didn’t feel up to it. He was ready to scream.

Estel, however, didn’t catch the meaning of the tone nor even Elladan’s obvious exhaustion. Like an eager puppy, he nodded and leaned forward, eyes shining.

“I knew it! Even as little children you were brave, first defying Ada to go after Elrohir and then both you and Legolas going back to save him. Ada was right to call you heroes.”

Sharing a look of pained resignation with Legolas, Elladan groaned again, “Estel….”

“So how did the others react? Did they treat you like heroes afterward? Did Elrohir? I wager he thought you were wonderful!”

Elladan gave a short laugh of frustrated disbelief and then wearily dropped an arm over his eyes—too worn out to come up with a response that didn’t include words his father would not approve of. He thought back to Elrohir’s reaction and mentally sighed—it had most certainly not been hero worship. In fact, he didn’t know how to categorize it. His twin had been too sad and withdrawn to do much more than quietly thank them when he’d finally awoken. It was like the cheerful, playful little boy had ceased to exist for awhile and it was not something he felt like discussing with Estel. It pained him to think of those days, especially knowing that his twin was hurting once again due to Estel’s cruel words.

Legolas looked at Elladan in disbelief when the dark-haired elf turned in his direction and gave him a beseeching look. He wanted him to answer Estel? Legolas had been grateful that he wasn’t the big brother here, forced to deal with the impossibly immature and annoying Estel, but now it looked like Elladan was expecting him to step in anyway. Why did Elladan have to pick now to be too tired to talk?

With a mock glare for Elladan that hinted at retribution when his friend was feeling better, Legolas turned to Estel and answered matter-of-factly, “We did receive a good deal of praise for our actions...” His expression took on a touch of embarrassment as he then confessed, “…and it was immensely satisfying to both of us. We were very proud of ourselves and once we knew Elrohir would recover, we couldn’t wait to hear him praise us as well. Our only excuse is that we were quite young and didn’t know better, but I now admit that we were a trifle full of our own sense of self-importance and assumed Elrohir would be overflowing with gratitude.”

Legolas sighed for the naïve child he’d been. At that age, he hadn’t understood how such a traumatic experience could affect one and hadn’t been prepared for the change in his little friend. The first time he’d seen him awake, Elrohir had not exactly behaved the way he’d expected. Rather than being full of praise, he had solemnly thanked Legolas for his role in the rescue, but then had never mentioned it again, shying away from any discussion of the whole experience. It had been the beginning of an awkward time between the friends as Elrohir became the withdrawn, sad fellow that he was the rest of Legolas’ visit. He didn’t know how to adequately describe the despair they’d all felt when Elrohir changed overnight from a merry, lighthearted companion into a docile, meek little elfling, afraid even to be alone. Like Elladan, though, those days weren’t anything he wished to share with Estel, so he continued simply, “When he finally was awake, Elrohir was naturally very upset by what he had experienced so although not effusive in his gratitude, what he expressed was heartfelt and certainly sufficient.”

Estel looked down at the fire, but not at the others. So Elrohir hadn’t even been properly appreciative to his rescuers? How ungracious! He knew the others wouldn’t like to hear this latest criticism of Elrohir, but when a lingering silence told him it was his turn to say something, he reluctantly expressed his thoughts, “What you are saying is that Elrohir didn’t fully value what you’d done? I don’t understand. His experience must have been horrid, so he should have been overflowing with thanks for what you had risked for him.”

Elladan broke in to the discussion, not allowing Legolas time to answer. Although Estel’s tone had not been unpleasant, he still resented his brother’s questioning of Elrohir’s reaction and his voice was hard as he thought of all his twin had endured. “Yes, it was horrid, so don’t dare to question how he should have reacted.” Continuing with a frown, he added, “Between listening to him ramble during his nightmares and what he told us later, we learned most of the details that we related to you—he was trapped in the dark, rats biting at him, thinking he’d been abandoned. It would be enough to give a grown adult nightmares, but even more so for a small child who had been told the rats would eat him.” Elladan shook his head in remembered anger as he thought back to those days, “Even now I cannot believe Belder did that to him.”

At that, Estel’s head shot up. “Yes, I meant to ask—the young elf, Belmandren—surely that was not the Belder I know? The warrior? Belder, Belder?”

Feeling his anger dissipate somewhat as he thought about how the young ‘Belmandren’ had eventually become their good friend ‘Belder,’ Elladan nodded and answered wryly. “Aye, one and the same. At first it was just Elrohir, but soon all of us called him Belder. And after awhile, the name stayed with him and even his family used it.”

“But he…but he has always been kind and friendly, and…good. How could he be that cruel boy?”

Elladan shrugged and said, “As you just said, he was a boy. In man years, no more than…perhaps fourteen. Old enough to have known better, but still young enough to not heed his own conscience.”

At Estel’s continued frown, Elladan explained further, “He never intended malice. And though I was angry with him at the time, I eventually came to realize he was just being foolish. Furthermore, he learned a great lesson that day. From then on, he was a protector of the younger elves, Elrohir in particular. And later, once we were grown, he became a dear friend, as you know.”

The look Elladan gave Estel spoke volumes. “You know our brother. He is very generous in his forgiveness. Even when deeply hurt by another’s actions…or words…he never hesitates to forgive when asked. It is one of the qualities I most admire in him.”

Estel was familiar enough with his oldest brother’s ways to realize that Elladan was giving him an opening to talk about an apology of his own to Elrohir. But he still wasn’t about to apologize. He regretted that Elrohir was troubled due to his words, but he would not say he was sorry when he felt so strongly that Elrohir had let him down. Moreover, he felt that Elrohir had let down every other elven warrior by his appalling display of cowardice. No, he would not apologize for it. No matter how guilty Elladan tried to make him feel.

Deciding to steer the conversation away from a discussion he really wanted to avoid, Estel asked, “And what of Johir? I have never heard of him. Did he and Belder part ways after that?”

A touch of sadness flitted over Elladan’s face before he sighed deeply. “Nay. Johir and Belder remained best friends. In time, they even played tricks on others again, although they were always very careful to make sure they were the harmless kind. Aye, the two of them remained very close, but Johir was killed several centuries ago when his patrol was attacked by a pack of wargs. He was a good warrior…and a good friend as well. We all miss his light spirit, especially Belder.”

Estel nodded, sorry to hear of the loss, but he understood that sometimes it was the way of the warrior to give his life to keep others safe. Thus, he was not as troubled by hearing of Johir’s fate as by the day’s events concerning Elrohir. After listening to Elladan and Legolas tell the long-ago story, he could understand that caves and rats could bring back bad memories for Elrohir, but…but that had been so long ago. It couldn’t excuse Elrohir’s present behavior. With those thoughts he once again felt a wave of disappointment and frustration. Freshly determined to press his point, he changed topics back to his brother’s behavior and said, “I understand much better now what started this all, but Elrohir is so much bigger than he was in your story—I still do not believe he should fear animals so small. Just because they bit him doesn’t mean he should be so upset.”

Elladan glanced sharply at Legolas and hissed, “He was bitten? Elrohir was bitten? You told me nothing of that.”

Legolas shrugged helplessly. He hadn’t known either. Yes, he had seen some blood on the younger twin, but had assumed he had simply scraped himself falling. Before he could think of something to say, Estel, rather surprised at Elladan’s fierce reaction, explained further.

“I…I think it was a rat bite. He said something about it after the fight. His hand was bleeding and he said it was just a small bite…nothing to worry about. Actually, I believe his fall was causing him more pain, judging from the way he held himself.”

Cursing the infirmity that had blinded him to his twin’s injuries, Elladan demanded angrily, “Have his wounds at least been properly cleaned? Those vermin have sharp teeth—a bite can do a lot of damage.”

For once united in the face of Elladan’s growing irritation, Legolas and Estel exchanged glances and then both shook their heads.

“No!? No one bothered to care for him? You just let him walk away with known wounds?” Elladan pressed, his words gaining in fury as his own injuries and exhaustion caused him to seriously overreact.

Shocked to find himself the object of a suddenly overwrought, furious Elladan, Legolas stuttered, “I’m sorry…I just…he was…”

Elladan interrupted abruptly, “Never mind. It’s clear that I must do it myself!”

Matching action to words, Elladan pushed aside the bedding and attempted to stand up, to the alarm of his two companions.

“Stop this! Lay down,” ordered Legolas, hurrying to his side. He could understand how days of pain and fatigue could cause his friend to overreact, but it didn’t mean he was going to allow Elladan to further injure himself. Forcing Elladan back onto the ground, he said, “Estel or I can tend to Elrohir.”

Ineffectively trying to pull away from Legolas’ firm hold, Elladan muttered, “Do not trouble yourself. I will do it. Now let me go.”

Legolas shook his head, smiling fondly at his grumpy friend. “You couldn’t even see to yourself at the moment, let alone wander about till you find Elrohir and then see to his needs. You know either Estel or I can easily tend to a small bite, so stop being foolish and lie there quietly like a good fellow.”

Being treated like a child caused Elladan stopped his struggles and squint up at Legolas, a bit miffed but inwardly acknowledging to himself that Legolas was right—he really wasn’t up to traipsing about the woods right now. But he was not really sure Legolas understood that it was more than just a small wound that needed fixing.

“Aye, I suppose the wound itself may not be so bad, but…but Legolas, Ro needs me.”

Legolas removed his hands from his friend’s shoulders and sat back on his heels. He knew what Elladan was saying, but he didn’t agree.

The wounded elf reflected wearily on Legolas’ words before answering. Yes, of course his brothers needed to make things right between them, but knowing Estel as he did, he wasn’t certain the youngster wouldn’t simply make things worse with his stubborn attitude and his warped understanding of their brother’s actions.

He shook his head and quietly said, “Nay, if I cannot go, then you should. I fear Estel will make things worse.”

Legolas lowered his voice and said, “I agree that his behavior today toward Elrohir was less than exemplary, but surely Estel would not be so callous again, especially when he sees him one-on-one.”

Elladan started to argue, but then stopped. Maybe sending Estel out to take care of whatever wounds his foolish twin had been hiding would enable his brothers to mend their differences. Still not sure he was making the right decision, he reluctantly nodded at Legolas and then called to his youngest brother, who had been hovering several feet away.

When Estel had joined the elves and was kneeling beside his brother, Elladan spoke again, “I have decided that you should be the one to take care of Elrohir. You know how he tends to overlook his own injuries, so you must ensure that they are not serious. Also….” he hesitated before continuing, “…you need to discuss certain things with him and this will give you two time alone. Use it wisely.”

Estel glared at his brother. Elladan wasn’t even trying to be subtle. He was basically ordering him to take this opportunity to apologize, but it was pointless. What did he have to do to make Elladan understand that there would be no apology? He simply couldn’t get over the fact that his brother wasn’t the brave warrior that he’d always pictured. Shoving the two of them together would not change that.

“Stop! Do not even begin to argue with me. You are going. Period. You are under my authority and you are to obey me. You will find Elrohir and tend to…whatever needs he has. Understood?”

It wasn’t often that Elladan so pointedly ordered anyone about. Estel was seeing a whole new side of both of his brothers on this trip and he was deciding that he much preferred his earlier vision of them. Knowing that arguing with this bossy version of Elladan would be futile, Estel scowled with ill grace, grabbed up the pouch that contained bandages and healing herbs, and stomped off towards the river.

Elrohir’s favorite time of day was twilight. The forest dwellers would be bedding down for the night, the small nocturnal insects would begin their evening song, and the air would still into a softness that could make the day’s troubles seem small. Then the first star of the night would twinkle in the darkening sky, to be joined one-by-one by its brothers. Countless times he had lain out beneath the sky, watching as they filled the darkening canopy above him.

This time, however, instead of beauty Elrohir could only see the fading of the day—an end of things rather than a time of rest. He felt his own spirit sinking along with the sun, dimming as he remembered the day’s events. The only bright spot was, of course, the fact that Elladan was now safe. It wasn’t enough, however, to keep other, dark thoughts from crowding his mind. There was a fishing line and a sturdy stick to use as a pole on the ground next to Elrohir, but both were neglected as the young elf brooded in silence.

When Estel found Elrohir, he was simply sitting in the grass, his left forearm resting on his knees, staring into nothingness while his fishing pole lay uselessly by his side. Seeing him again brought about a rush of mixed emotions that Estel couldn’t process. Part of him felt an ache to see his brother looking so forlorn, but a conflicting part remembered his ignoble behavior in the cave and still made him want to lash out in disgust. Yes, the story of Elrohir’s long-ago troubles had been sad, but he only felt bad for the child, not the adult. The adult was still a great disappointment to him and, with jumbled up feelings coursing through him, he couldn’t think of a thing to say to the warrior-turned-coward.

Estel waited for Elrohir to say something, not even realizing how much he was relying on Elrohir to fall into his usual role, making things easier for the little brother. But for once, Elrohir didn’t oblige. After waiting for long minutes when the elf didn’t even acknowledge his presence, Estel finally shifted nervously, crackling the brush beneath his feet. When there was still no reaction, Estel said, “You, uhm…can’t catch many fish like that.” He almost rolled his eyes at himself, recognizing how inane his comment was—with all that had happened, catching fish was the furthest thing from either of their thoughts. Still, it was something and Estel hoped Elrohir would respond.

But it wasn’t to be. Elrohir lifted his left shoulder in a slight shrug but didn’t turn his head, not wanting the young man to see how much his earlier words had affected him. His emotions were already raw enough from his fear for Elladan and then the nightmare experience in the cave. He just wasn’t up to dealing with the complex emotions of a teenage man-child.

When it became clear that Elrohir wasn’t going to say anything, Estel again shuffled his feet uncertainly. He had never had such problem relating to his brothers before, and didn’t know what to say. Finally, he sat down beside Elrohir and opened up the pouch, pulling out a clean bandage and a healing salve.

“Elladan sent me to see to your hand,” he said matter-of-factly, finally deciding to simply complete the task he was sent to do.

Elrohir covered his right hand with his left and finally answered, “You saw me bandage it yourself. It needs no further tending.”

Estel felt something spear through him at the lifeless tone. Was he responsible for this? Was it his fault that his brother sounded so worn out, so disheartened? Estel had a sudden desire to drop the bandages, grab Elrohir, and hug away the hurt that he had caused. Elrohir had always been there for him, from the very beginning—maybe he had been too harsh. But…but he knew that if he gave in, he would be admitting he was wrong and he didn’t believe he was. As difficult as it was to accept, Elrohir was not the fearless warrior he had always pictured and hugs wouldn’t change that.

The words, spoken almost too quietly to be heard, cut through Estel’s reflections. For a moment he desperately wanted to obey the request—he didn’t want to be here any more than Elrohir wanted him here—but he still hadn’t attended to Elrohir’s hand and he wasn’t about to go back to the camp before he’d done so. Elladan was clearly out of patience with him and he knew better than to return without at least seeing if his help was needed. But it looked like Elrohir wasn’t going to cooperate, leaving Estel at a complete loss as to how to deal with the stranger beside him. After a few more tense, uncomfortable minutes, Estel once more retreated into the safety of his healer role and carefully looked at his brother’s hand without touching it. The elf still had that cloth wrapped around it, but the wound had obviously not been cleaned and the cloth wasn’t even a proper bandage.

Sounding faintly disapproving, Estel said, “I cannot leave until I tend to your hand. You’re a healer Elrohir. You know as well as I that wrapping a dirty cloth around a wound is not treating it.”

In the same, quiet voice as before, Elrohir responded, “As you said, I am a healer. I will care for it myself. You needn’t bother. Again…please leave.”

Twice now he had been asked to leave and his brother’s weary tone almost made him go, but in the end, he found he simply had to stay. It wasn’t even really because of Elladan’s command. He wouldn’t, couldn’t take back his earlier words, but despite his disappointment, he still loved his brother and he wanted to provide at least a little comfort, if only by fixing his hand.

Pushing aside any confusing emotionalism, he said matter-of-factly, “Elladan told me to tend to your hand, and that is what I plan to do. Ada was very clear that I had to obey Elladan’s orders and I will not go back to camp without doing so.”

If he had felt capable, Elrohir would have smiled. Actually, he knew that his father had told Estel that he was to obey both of the twins, but he didn’t have the energy to fight that battle and force his little brother to leave.

With a sigh, Elrohir finally looked at Estel, causing the youngster to draw back at the deep sadness he saw in his brother’s eyes. “Very well,” he said, slowly offering his hand and then turning back to gaze out over the river.

Estel bit his lip, but then reached over and took his brother’s hand, a little surprised when Elrohir stiffened. Elrohir almost never showed any sign of pain.

It was puzzling, therefore, when he unwrapped the dirty cloth and revealed a wound that, although was jagged and dirty, really didn’t seem to be that bad. Deciding with dismay that Elrohir must be overreacting because it came from a rat, the freshly disappointed young man quickly and expertly cleaned the wound and applied the salve before wrapping the hand in a clean bandage.

When he was finished, Elrohir didn’t even seem to notice and made no move to take his hand away, so Estel, carefully slid out from under it and got up.

“I am…done,” he said. When Elrohir didn’t acknowledge him and instead continued to stare out across the river, Estel couldn’t bear the tension any longer. “I will see you back at camp,” he added and then fled, feeling distressed and conflicted.

Once he heard that Estel was out of sight, Elrohir reached over with his left hand and slowly pulled his right hand back into his lap, noting absently that it really did feel better after Estel’s treatment. He honestly hadn’t been concerned about it, though. It really had been a minor wound. The pain in his back from when he’d fallen had grown alarmingly, however, not at all helped by having carried his twin for hours. Now, moving his right arm was agonizing and he was afraid that he may have done some real damage to his shoulder, perhaps even cracking the collar bone. In truth, he knew he was being foolish for not telling the others, but he had known that they would never have let him alone if they had thought he was injured and he simply couldn’t bear to be with anyone else right now.

He dropped his head into his left hand. He was embarrassed, upset, in pain, and most of all, overwhelmingly exhausted. He hadn’t slept since Elladan had been taken—more than what? four? five days now and his reserves were gone. He just didn’t have the strength to face anything else right now, certainly not his disillusioned little brother and he was grateful that Estel had left so quickly.

After awhile, he acknowledged to himself that he’d at least have to catch some fish for dinner. He knew Elladan had sent him away as a chance to have some time alone, but even so, Elrohir had been serious about the need to bring back dinner. It would be good for his injured brother to have a hearty meal of fish rather than just some dry provisions.

With a sigh, he pulled over the fishing pole and carefully prepared it. He was irritated with how awkward it was, using only his left hand, and with a gloomy look at the early evening sky, wondered if he’d be able to catch enough fish for dinner before it got dark. With that thought, Estel’s words echoed again in his head and he swallowed a shaky sigh. On top of everything else that he’d dealt with…that had really hurt.

Once he was out of sight of Elrohir, Estel slowed down and unhurriedly made his way back to their camp, wishing that he could avoid the questions that he knew would be awaiting him. ‘Did you talk to Elrohir?’ ‘Did you work things out?’ Ah! This whole situation was making him tense and unhappy. He knew Elladan and Legolas would still be thoroughly disappointed in him and Elrohir…well, he didn’t even want to think about what Elrohir was thinking—that’s who started this whole mess in the first place. But Elladan…oh, why couldn’t Elladan understand? It’s not like he didn’t still love their brother, but he couldn’t just pretend that the incident in the cave hadn’t happened. It changed the way he saw Elrohir and he wasn’t going to act as if it hadn’t.

As Estel walked to the camp, he tried to come up with responses to everything that Elladan might say to him. He wanted to be prepared so that he didn’t come across as some petulant irrational child—he needed Elladan and Legolas to respect his feelings and stop treating him so unfairly, so he needed to have his arguments logically and unemotionally laid out. Then they would understand. After all, he had done nothing wrong and yet he was being made to feel like he was some evil monster who had hurt Elrohir’s feelings. With his arguments finally framed, Estel walked back into camp, confident that he would at last make the others see his point.

His return did not prompt immediate questioning, though. Instead, Elladan was lying silently with his eyes closed while Legolas was leaned up against a tree, quietly making arrows. It wasn’t until Estel returned the healing pouch to the packs that Elladan opened his eyes and raised his head.

“And what? I found him, cleaned the wound, bandaged his hand. He will be fine. It was really quite minor. After I was done, he remained behind, presumably to catch dinner.”

The look on Elladan’s face should have warned Estel. The older twin had had a rough few days and he really wasn’t up to question and answer games. Allowing the irritation to show in his voice, Elladan pressed, “And…did you talk to him?”

Keeping calm and remembering the answers he’d prepared, Estel answered, “Aye. We spoke. He didn’t wish treatment, but I insisted so he finally allowed it. Again, the wound was not deep and it should heal nicely.”

Barely keeping his temper with Estel’s almost nonchalant behavior, Elladan glowered as he asked, “And…did you clear up your…issues?”

It had been getting harder and harder to keep up his confident front and he almost faltered when he could easily see how irritated Elladan was becoming, but if nothing else, Estel could be quite stubborn at times and with a slight rise of his chin, he said, “Nay. I did not talk to him in the way that you mean. I did not have anything to say. Elladan…I know how you feel about him, how close you are to him—and…and I love him too, but I can see clearly what you refuse to acknowledge. Yes, Elrohir had a bad experience as a small child. But that was just one little incident so long ago. I…I could not believe my eyes when I saw him shaking in fear. I had always thought him stronger.”

Thought he was stronger? Elladan gritted his teeth and lowered his head back down, closing his eyes and forcing a calm he did not feel before he said something that would only make things worse. Estel was a child. He simply didn’t understand. Elladan almost ached with the desire to just shout at Estel, but it was his duty, to both his brothers, to remain calm and make Estel understand.

He opened his eyes again and looked over at Legolas. The prince was sitting there with a half-made arrow in his hand, gripping the shaft so hard that Elladan thought it would break. He smiled lightly at his friend when he caught his eye. It helped so much having Legolas with him. As a comrade in hundreds of battles, he knew the prince had no question about Elrohir’s strength or bravery and right now that silent support was priceless. Now he just had to convince Estel of that as well, before the youngster seriously damaged his relationship with their brother.

Drawing once more on some inner fount of strength, Elladan pulled himself up and when he was comfortably sitting, he said in as reasonable a tone as he could manage, “Estel, you have to understand that the feeling of being trapped and helpless burned itself into Elrohir’s memories. His reaction is not one he chooses—it just is.”

“Yes, but from one time? Just once when he was a child? Elladan!” Estel answered, almost whining from his frustration. He had been giving Elladan his calm, carefully worded responses, but it was obvious that his brother still wouldn’t accept that Elrohir wasn’t the brave warrior they’d all believed.

Frustrated himself, convinced that Estel was being obstinate on purpose, Elladan once again explained, though a little less patiently, “Aye, he was a child, but it doesn’t matter how old he was when it happened. His fears are no less real because they stem from an incident long ago. What is most important, though, is that they do not cause Elrohir to quit.”

Estel scowled and condensed his argument into one harsh, concluding statement. “So he didn’t quit! It doesn’t matter. Elladan, he was afraid.”

Elladan’s shoulders slumped and he sighed wearily. This wasn’t working. Estel wasn’t going to let this go—somewhere he had come up with the notion that having fears made you a coward and he was sticking to that ridiculous position. It was an immature, foolish idea, but how could he make the child understand? For long moments he was silent, his exhausted mind trying to come up with some way to explain things. When he at last came upon an answer, he hesitated, however. There was something else he could talk about that might make things clearer to Estel, but he was uncertain of Elrohir’s reaction. Still, it had to be done. Hoping Elrohir would forgive him for what he was about to do, he quietly said, “No, Estel, not just once. That was merely the first time.”

“Dan…?” came a voice from the other side of the camp and Elladan’s attention turned to Legolas as the prince continued, “…something else happened? I do not recall another incident.”

Elladan smiled grimly, “You were not there Legolas. And Elrohir never speaks of it. Indeed, I’m not certain he would appreciate me telling this story…but Estel must be made to understand, so apparently this is an evening for tales. Sit down, both of you, and I will tell you of the second time that my luckless twin shared a dark chamber with rats.”

Settling back into the blankets in a futile effort to ease his many aches and pains, Elladan searched his memory for details, carefully ordering in his mind the long-ago events.

He looked at his expectant audience and wearily considered why he was even bothering with this additional story. Estel was being so thickheaded that Elladan was fairly certain the foolish youth would misunderstand again. As a wave of exhaustion washed over him, he was sorely tempted to just say “never mind” and go to sleep. But that ever-present sense of duty stopped him as usual. It was his job as the big brother to teach Estel and so that was what he would do. Moreover, if he was honest with himself, he knew he was doing this for Elrohir’s benefit as much as Estel’s. If he could make Estel understand, he knew his littlest brother would find a way to make things right with Elrohir.

Having decided to go ahead with the story, Elladan forced his fatigue and hurts to the back of his mind and began, “This story takes place on a training mission when Elrohir and I were youths, akin to your age, Estel. We had been out in the forests nearly two seasons learning a variety of skills—the same training you will begin this coming summer.”

Estel’s eyes lit up for a moment at the reference to his upcoming training. He had been anticipating it for years—the culmination of training as a junior novice. After passing this final trial, younger trainees moved up to become full novices and their training became more intense and focused—he couldn’t wait! He knew he would miss his family when he went without seeing them for months, but he had been practically counting the days ‘til he would be out from under the protective arm of his brothers. Up to now, one or both of the twins had participated in all of his major training missions, and although he loved being with them, for the first time he would succeed or fail on his own and he relished the chance to prove himself.

For just a moment he was distracted with youthful ideas of glory, but he quickly brought his mind back to Elladan’s story as the elf continued.

“We had almost completed our training, but as you know there is always one final set of tasks—for our class, it was to successfully hunt large prey and interact with other races. Specifically, we were to pair up by twos and hunt the elusive wild boar that roamed the area, then prepare and deliver the boar to a nearby human settlement. Elrohir and I were…ah…not in our trainers good graces at the time and they initially refused to allow us to team up. But, after what I will shamefully admit was ceaseless pestering, they changed their mind…at the time we believed it was just to shut us up.”

Elladan smiled wryly at the memory. What a trial the two of them must have been in those long-ago days. Full of spirit and playfulness that wasn’t always received in the manner intended. He felt a sharp pang of melancholy as he remembered a time when they had still been innocent to the cruelties of the world. Could he ever have really been that naïve? Shaking his head to reorder his wandering thoughts, then wincing with the painful reminder that he still had a concussion, he continued, “Ro and I were fully aware that the training masters had become impatient with us, and knew this was our last chance to redeem ourselves before we returned home. Thus, we were determined to be the first pair to succeed in our mission and return to camp, proving that we had been paying attention after all.”

When the training masters allowed the twins to pair up, every one of them assumed the twins would fail dismally. Six months of watching Elrond’s sons treat the training mission as a lark had convinced them that the two had no chance for success. It was the rationale behind the initial refusal to allow them to hunt together—they took their duties to train younglings seriously and the thought that they would have to keep two of them back, not to mention that they were Lord Elrond’s sons, had prompted them to separate the two, hoping they might be inspired to focus better with another partner.

When at last they did finally relent, however, it was not due to the twins’ pleas. After reflection, they decided that protecting the pair from their own faults would not ultimately be in their best interest. All hated to see the twins fail, but the best lessons are often those learned the hard way. Frivolous attitudes on the part of a warrior could be fatal—it was well they learned now, when the lesson would not be so costly, that there was a price to pay for misplaced playfulness. As humiliating as it would be for the twins when they failed, in the end it was the wiser path. Thus, it was with a certain amount of fatalism that the warriors watched the twins run into the forest. They were confident the two were clever enough to keep themselves from harm, but no one believed the twins had learned enough to be able to pull off this last task.

Even wise, experienced elves, however, can sometimes miss what is right in front of noses. What they had failed to see was that the twins’ behavior was simply a result of their enthusiasm and energy rather than a desire to create mischief. The touch of human blood in their veins leant them a certain exuberance that was not the norm for elves and so their lighthearted antics were often perceived as a disregard for authority and contempt for lessons rather than the simple joy of living that would later be treasured by all as a much-loved quality of the twins. The two had, in fact, been absorbing their lessons as well as the other novices, but in their youth had not understood that their playful demeanor was being misinterpreted. Without doubt they knew they were constantly being reprimanded, but hadn’t really understood until the end that it was as a result of their conduct rather than their abilities.

It was that budding realization that was uppermost in their minds as the two raced away, acknowledging that their own behavior had led to their disgrace as the group’s worst novices. It was a sobering thought, but they also realized that they still had a chance to surprise everyone with what they’d learned. With that underlying goal, they ran until they were certain they were not being observed, and then sat down to carefully plan out their strategy.

Two days later, Elladan and Elrohir were rewarded when they found the faint tracks of a large boar. Their instructors had warned all the novices that it usually took many days to spot their signs, so they were awash with excitement, fervently hoping that an early success would help erase at least part of their trainers’ ill opinions.

They tracked the beast for almost another day, finally cornering it midday near the edge of the northern boundary that had been set for their test. Working in perfect unison, they crept up silently upon him, readying their bows for the kill when their quarry lifted its head and seemed to look right at them. For a heart-stopping moment, the twins froze, hoping the beast hadn’t sensed them. Then when it dropped its head again, the twins noiselessly raised their bows and with unerring accuracy, shot their arrows as one and swiftly brought it down.

It was quite honestly anticlimactic after months of training to so quickly drop their prey, but the ease in which they accomplished their task couldn’t diminish their pleasure.

“We did it,” said Elrohir with satisfaction as he approached the still beast a moment later. The tension that had been enshrouding him for the past couple of days melted away as he added with a joyful laugh, “We really did it. Even Glorfindel will be proud of us now.”

Elladan grinned at his brother and nodded. Of the two of them, Elrohir had always found it more troubling to be scolded, but the elder twin had also felt the sting of being on the receiving end of so many reprimands and was delighted to think they would soon be sharing triumph, rather than disgrace, with Glorfindel, their beloved mentor. The awe-inspiring elven warrior always came to celebrate the end of junior novice training, so it would be especially wonderful to see him and tell him of their success.

Yes, this was a good day—nay, a great day. Unless some random disaster struck, they could complete their task and be back at the main camp in just a few days. The only remaining challenge was to prepare the boar and present it as a gift to the nearest human village as a sign of friendship. Nothing could be easier. This was often the hardest task for novice warriors who rarely interacted with those outside Rivendell. But as the Lord’s sons and young lords themselves, Elladan and Elrohir had been practicing diplomacy since they could remember and were confident they would have no trouble.

“Let’s do this quickly. Brightfalls is just a league or so to the north and if we hurry, we can present them our gift and be on our way before sundown,” said Elladan, a happiness in his voice reflecting his growing pleasure. It was hard to remember the last time everything had worked out so perfectly.

In complete agreement with Elladan’s desire to finish the test and return with their good news, Elrohir knelt down beside the boar and removed the sharp hunting knife that all novices were issued. The two hadn’t even touched the beast, however, when a large ‘crack’ startled them and they leapt to their feet as something crashed out of the forest.

Later...much later...the twins would discuss the next few moments, trying to piece together exactly what transpired. How could they have been caught unprepared? How could they not have known there was danger about? They never could put together a clear picture of those moments, though. All they knew is that one second they were joyfully considering their triumphant return to camp, and the next some...thing was upon them.

They reached for their weapons, but their delayed reactions weren’t quick enough to prevent the large, dark shape from slamming into Elladan and knocking him on his back. Huge teeth seemed determined to rip out his throat, and he suddenly found himself in a fight for his life.

The twins may have been caught unawares, but their instructors would have been pleased to see how quickly their training kicked in despite the shock of the attack. Elladan used all his strength and skills to keep the sharp teeth from his neck while Elrohir lunged forward at whatever was savaging his twin. He plunged his knife into its back with one hand, attempting to reach around the beast’s neck with his other arm and pull it away from Elladan. Whatever it was, it was strong and the elven youth was struggling desperately to save his twin, when the beast dropped its attack on its initial prey and spun to address the new threat. Elrohir had barely a moment to note in utter astonishment that it was a large dog before he found himself under attack and had to start fighting with all the skills in his possession.

The twins’ had never been given lessons specifically on fighting dogs, but when you were trying to avoid razor-sharp teeth and claws, the basic principle was the same be it warg or dog. Quickly putting his training to use, Elrohir was soon able to mortally wound the beast while acquiring only minor scratches himself.

Within minutes it was all over, but the adrenaline rush left the twins breathing as if they’d been sprinting for miles. Shaken, Elrohir made sure the beast was dead and then turned to Elladan, who had only managed to rise to his knees. The elder twin tried to steady himself by breathing deeply, only to be startled by Elrohir, who fell to his knees in front of him and grabbed his shoulders in a strong grip.

“Elladan, how badly are you hurt?...............Elladan?.....Answer me!” Elrohir shouted, shaking his brother when he didn’t respond.

Shock and pain leaving him grumpy, Elladan pulled away sharply, nearly falling on his backside, and snapped, “Just be quiet and give me a moment to think!” Forcing himself to his feet, he added, “And don’t hover!” He hated it when Elrohir hovered.

“I’m not hovering, you idiot,” he said with impatience, his own reaction causing him to respond sharper than normal, “I need to see how badly you’re injured. Now sit back down and let me look at you.”

Elladan, hurting, still in shock, and definitely off-balance from all that had just happened, wanted to take a minute to regroup and took another step back, saying testily, “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

Elrohir grimaced—obviously his stupid brother was going to be difficult. He closed in on his twin, and tried once more to take charge, “Don’t be foolish—you’re bleeding. So sit down.”

Elrohir grabbed his twin’s arm and tried to guide him down, but Elladan pulled away, stumbling as he stepped back. Now, in addition to being out of sorts, he was angry with his twin’s manhandling and said crossly, “I said leave me alone. I’ll tend to myself.”

“And how do you propose to do that? Your hands are shaking too much to do much good. You’re being stubborn.”

It was true, Elladan’s hands were shaking from reaction, but hearing his brother point that out only made him more upset. He was a warrior. Well, a warrior in training. A stupid dog attack shouldn’t bother him. Not willing to concede that the whole experience had unnerved him, he dug in his heels. No. He didn’t need anyone’s help. Let alone his “little” brother. Determined to regain some semblance of control, he allowed scrambled thoughts to guide his tongue, putting voice to thoughts that just flew into his head without consideration of their impact.

“You can’t tell me what to do. I am in charge here,” he said with his thumb pointing back at his chest.

Still not thinking of the consequences of his words, relieved to feel that he was taking control of something, Elladan responded, “Don’t be stupid. We both know I’m the leader.”

When Elrohir just stared, not disputing his words, Elladan felt he was making progress and unknowingly dug himself in deeper with his brother, “Well, surely you noticed at some point in your life that I am the elder?”

Elrohir had been hoping he was misunderstanding his twin, but now he responded in anger when he confirmed where Elladan’s train of logic was going. He practically growled, “By mere moments. Not in any way that matters.”

Irritated at being contradicted, Elladan scowled. Why was Elrohir being simple? Obviously as eldest, he, Elladan, was always meant to be in charge. Everyone knew that. Elladan nodded and said, “Of course it matters. Which of us has always taken the lead? Hmm? Who always speaks for us? Answer me that. You know as well as I that I always have been and always will be in charge. Denying it won’t change anything. So, don’t tell me what to do,” he finished with satisfaction. There. Problem solved. Now things were back to how they should be in his world. Him deciding what needed to be done, Elrohir following..

Of course, Elladan’s satisfaction with his argument didn’t hold much weight with Elrohir. Disgusted with how things had gone from the joy of their successful hunt to concern for his twin, and now to Elladan’s unbelievable assertion, he drew himself up as tall as possible, and hissed, “Never have I heard such a heap of troll dung. You? Our leader? Of all the arrogant, egotistical things I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, that has to be the worst. You have no authority over me, you narcissistic halfwit!”

That was it. Elladan was floundering for control and had no other outlet for his frustration than his pig-headed brother. He was hurt, stressed, and feeling like nothing was the way it was supposed to be. To have his twin calling him names was too much. Throwing common sense and restraint away, he pushed Elrohir hard and shouted nastily, “No authority? Grow up! Just who do you think is Ada’s heir, anyway, hmh? Is it Elrohir?” He laughed derisively. “Not likely. Try ‘Elladan, first born son of Lord Elrond.’ Not ‘you.’ Not ‘us.’ Me!”

Anger whooshed out of Elrohir, replaced by shock and hurt so bad that his twin’s words penetrated him like a knife wound and he found he could barely find breath to speak.

Almost hoarse, he stuttered, “I...I have been content to have you lead most of the time, but that doesn’t mean it is your birthright. You...you just seem to enjoy it a...and I don’t mind. But Ada has never said you outrank me. He never told me you were his heir and I was beneath you. Between us...we are equals. EQUALS. You lead at times, yes, but that is only because I choose to follow. Not because I must.”

Elladan had been fully prepared to pursue his foolish debate. He had even thought ahead to what argument he was going to use next. However, his twin’s tone and expression stopped him cold—never before had his own words caused Elrohir to look so horribly hurt. He felt sick, literally, as an icy sanity flowed through him and the shroud was pulled from his thoughts. His stomach clenched and threatened to expel all he’d eaten that day. What in all that was good in Arda had he been saying? He took a step closer to his brother, wondering how he was going undo the damage his words had caused, when another figure erupted from the woods and was instantly upon them.

Elladan was pulled from his story with the interruption. Turning to his listeners, he frowned and asked, “What?”

Surprisingly, it was not his brother who had interrupted, however. It was Legolas who spoke up. “Go back for a moment. Regarding your conversation with Elrohir. You alone are the Imladris heir? Elladan, I...I am so sorry. I never understood...” he trailed off, unable to come up with words to express his shock. He had always been viewed the twins together as Elrond’s heirs—never one over the other. He felt so embarrassed that he had never properly understood the hierarchy between the two. As a member of another ruling family, this kind of misunderstanding was a huge diplomatic blunder and he wondered if he’d said or done anything over the years that showed his ignorance.

Elladan didn’t appear to be upset, though. If anything, he looked sheepish. He wished he hadn’t had to tell that part of the story—it was shameful to him, and in fact, that one stupid moment of utter lunacy on his part had cost him dearly. Shrugging as much as his aching body would allow, he answered, “Ah, I expect you have always understood the proper relationship just fine—Elrohir and I are, and always have been, equals. I was simply being, as Elrohir so eloquently put it, an arrogant halfwit at the time. I have no defense except to say that the attack left my thinking rather twisted. And let us not forget, of course, that I was also young and foolish.” His mouth twisted as he glanced at Estel and added, “Something that can be rather common in adolescents, you know.”

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Estel said, “Aye, Elladan. Enough, please! You’re not being even remotely subtle, you realize. Now if you don’t mind, I’d rather you continue your story than waste your energy trying to insult me.”

Elladan was tempted to tell his little brother that he wasn’t trying subtle. In fact, he was quite willing to tell Estel just how annoying and stupid he was being. But, knowing how pointless such an action was right now, Elladan resettled himself and once more went back in time....

A/N: Uhm...what can I say? It’s been, SO, SO LONG since I posted the last chapter that words escape me. Uh...Sorry? I really never in my wildest imagination thought it would take so long. I’m not even going to try to explain it away--just apologize to anyone who had been reading the story. Believe it or not, though, I have never given up determination that I’ll finish this story. Soooo, in order to get things moving again, I’m sending out this chapter in three parts. This first part is short on substance as it only sets up the rest of the chapter, but I’m hoping posting it helps to coax back my muse and I’ll get the rest of it written shortly. Anyway, again, I really am so sorry for the long wait. :(

The latest attack may have come without warning, but the twins had learned their lesson. Uniting against another threat, both brothers spun around with their knives drawn, ready by the time their newest assailant reached them.

Thoroughly upset by his quarrel with Elladan, Elrohir rushed forward, wanting nothing more than to release his pent up hurt by dealing a crippling blow to their latest attacker. At the last moment, though, he realized to his horror that the figure running toward them was not some fearsome beast, but merely a human child. With a cry of surprise, he jerked back his arm and allowed himself to be tackled and thrown to the ground. His breath left him with a great ‘whoof,’ but Elrohir easily turned the tables and had the smaller youth pinned to the ground in a punishing hold, ending up face-to-face with his attacker.

Without words, the two stared into each others eyes, mere inches apart. Fierce hate shone from the boy’s, who couldn’t have been more than ten years old, while confusion and shock were reflected in the elf’s, who was badly shaken to think he’d almost killed a child. Neither one of them moving, barely remembering to breathe, they were locked in a wordless struggle as Elrohir became mesmerized by the pure hate the boy was projecting.

With a start, Elrohir finally registered that his brother had been talking to him and broke away from the hate-filled gaze. He jerked his head to look at Elladan, but his eyes still reflected the horror he felt from almost killing a boy.

Elladan was relieved when his brother’s eyes cleared and Elrohir came fully back into the present. But then his twin’s gaze sharpened into something else, something foreign and Elladan felt a frisson of fear--Elrohir had never looked at him like that before.

“I am uninjured, my Lord,” Elrohir responded coldly as he drew himself up off the boy.

Elladan recoiled as if slapped. He already come to his senses and knew that he’d been out of line earlier. And yes, he’d expected to do some serious groveling before his thoughtless words were forgiven, but in his wildest imagination he had never pictured Elrohir reacting like this.

“Ro...I...” he began helplessly, but his words trailed away as Elrohir simply stared at a point somewhere over Elladan’s shoulder--he wasn’t even looking at him.

The tension between the two grew and Elladan tried again, “Elrohir, look, I’m sorry I...”

But his twin cut him off abruptly, “Would his Lordship allow me dress his wounds now?”

“‘Would his Lordship’...”Would his”...Elrohir stop it!” burst Elladan. This was stupid.

Elrohir finally did look at his brother, but his words didn’t comfort Elladan, “If you would still prefer to attend to your injury yourself, my Lord, I will see to the boy.”

The boy...oh...right. Elladan quickly looked over to the human child, who had crawled over to the dog and was now draped over its back sobbing. What? Wasn’t this the child who eyes had just been lit with hatred? What was going on now? Was nothing how it should be? Shaking off an unaccustomed desire to find a nice spot and start bawling himself, he turned his attention back to his twin.

“No, you can...fix this,” he said, holding out his blood-covered arm, surprised to find he’d nearly forgotten about it. Now that he was reminded of it, however, the pain seemed to intensify.

Sitting down, awaiting treatment, Elladan scanned the tree line while his brother quietly took out the small pack of healing supplies that all warriors and trainees carried. The soft trill of the birds and the slow hum of insects comforted Elladan. At least for now it seemed like nothing else was waiting at the edge of the forest, ready to pounce on them.

“I’ll have to cut your sleeve off,” Elrohir murmured, interrupting his thoughts.

Elladan looked at him hopefully. Elrohir hadn’t spoken in that cold, unfamiliar tone this time. He smiled uncertainly at Elrohir, but his twin wasn’t looking at him.

Elladan decided to do as his brother requested and sat without speaking while Elrohir cut the fabric away from the wound and then gently and efficiently cleaned the damaged area. Elladan drew his breath in sharply when an herbal paste was applied to the open wound--it stung badly--but within moments the herbs began to work and the pain dulled to a tolerable throb.

Elrohir finished up by winding a clean white roll of cloth around Elladan’s arm and tying it off neatly. Elladan was amazed at how much better his arm felt and smiled. Their father always did say the younger twin had a natural inclination for healing.

“You’re welcome,” responded Elrohir, as he turned to put the supplies away. “....my Lord”

Elladan’s spirits plummeted with those last words, which had been added almost as an afterthought. Elrohir’s gentle, caring touch had given him false hope that his twin had decided to stop the “my Lord” nonsense.

Since it was his fault things were off-kilter between them, Elladan knew it was up to him to fix things. With the strength and determination he was already known for, he faced the situation head-on and said, “Elrohir, I am sorry for my earlier words. I wasn’t thinking. Of course there is no difference between us. You’re right...those few moments between our birth mean nothing and we are equals. I was wrong to say otherwise. Please forgive me.”

As apologies go, it was flawless. It was said in the right tone. It was sincere. It was thorough. Unfortunately, Elrohir was still too upset to accept it and responded ungraciously.

“You have nothing to apologize for, my Lord. I simply didn’t understand my place before.”

Elladan breathed in deeply, trying to control his frustration. He said he was sorry. What more did his brother want? More groveling? Fine.

Careful to keep all trace of annoyance out of his voice, he said, “You know that’s not true. What I said was foolish and wrong. I was foolish and wrong. I have never been nor will ever be ‘your Lord’ or anything of the sort...and would appreciate it if you would stop calling me that.”

“Very well...,” answered Elrohir, but Elladan just knew he was tacking on ‘my Lord’ at the end, even if he didn’t say it out loud. His brother clearly wasn’t ready to forgive and move on.

Elladan brought his hand up and pressed it into his forehead, trying to push away a headache that was trying to form--he had no idea what to do now--not only with Elrohir, but with the whole stupid situation. He’d been attacked, he was hurt, his brother was upset with him, there was some strange boy on the ground crying his eyes out, and they were still supposed to deliver that boar to the village. What a disaster!

Both twins whipped their heads towards the boy whose soft sobs they had been ignoring as his cries now filled the air. His speech was heavy with a thick accent unfamiliar to the elves, but he was fortunately speaking in Westron, a language in which they were fluent, and after pausing a moment they understood what he said.

Elladan looked to Elrohir--they always looked to each other when confronted with unusual situations, drawing strength and inspiration from one another. Elrohir wasn’t looking back, though. By the Valar! This was not the time to stay in a snit!

Elrohir looked at him and raised an eyebrow, but kept his face expressionless and didn’t move.

Fine! Be that way. Cursing stubborn brothers in his head, Elladan scowled and squared his shoulders. If Elrohir wanted to stay mad there wasn’t anything he could do about it for the moment. Since apparently they weren’t going to deal with this situation together and Elrohir wasn’t doing anything, it was up to him.

He knelt by the boy and asked gently in the boy’s language, “What is your name?”

Smiling, Elladan said, “Well Benny, my name is Elladan, and that is my brother, Elrohir. I’m sorry your dog is dead, but we had to defend ourselves when he attacked us. As you can see,” he held out his arm, “he came after us first.”

The boy’s chin wobbled. “But...but...he was my dog. He was my friend. You didn’t have to kill him.”

Elladan’s eyes darted to his twin. Why didn’t Elrohir say anything? He was always better at this sort of thing--wasn’t he the one who had endless patience when young elflings came around to watch the “big boys” practice? But Elrohir was still standing there, his passive refusal to do anything more provoking than openly quarreling would have been. He probably knew it, too, blast him.

Once again forced to breathe in deeply to try to calm himself, Elladan resolved to ignore Elrohir until his brother stopped his nonsense.

Turning back to the child, the said, “Benny, the dog was hurting me. My brother had to stop him, or he would have hurt me more, maybe even killed me. You must understand we would not normally hurt your dog.”

Benny wiped the tears from his face with his palms and mournfully looked at Elladan.

The boy shook his head. “You killed Tarnok. You might hurt me, too,” he said, suddenly sounding afraid.

When the boy didn’t answer, Elladan added, “We could even carry Tarnok home for you if you’d like.”

He knew if they did that, by the time they could come back for the boar the forest animals would have devoured it and they would fail their test--they wouldn’t have enough time to find another boar before they had to return--but he really felt he needed to somehow help the devastated child. Normally he would have talked to Elrohir about such a monumental decision...oh, how he wished he could talk to Elrohir about this...but he was on his own and made the best choice he could.

Nodding, Elladan stood up and, resolve failing, tried one last time, “Elrohir, are you alright with this? You know we cannot carry both the dog and the boar.”

“Very well,” he said sharply. “You carry his front, I’ll get the back.”

It was a silent procession that made its way through the forest toward the village. The twins followed the youth, carrying the dog between them but neither of them speaking.

After awhile, the clouds rolled in and shrouded the forest in gloom, matching everyone’s mood. It was not a happy trio that finally reached Brightfalls.

Their entrance into the village caused quite a stir. Obviously it wasn’t an every day occurrence to have a couple of elves show up with a dead dog between them. Before long, the three boys were surrounded by dozens of people, talking loudly and staring at the twins.

Momentarily forgetting their quarrel, the two shared a quick look, wondering if there was going to be trouble and what they would do if there was. But to their immense relief, a large, imposing man held up his hand and quieted the gathered masses.

“Papa! These…these elves killed Tarnok. He was just helping me hunt…wasn’t doing anything wrong…and then that one stabbed him,” he said angrily, pointing at Elrohir.

The twins’ jaws dropped at the youth’s sudden transformation. The grief was gone and in its place was fury and accusation. In a day full of bewildering twists, this was the most unexpected.

The tall man moved over until he stood right in front of the twins--his towering presence unnerving as he leaned over. They could see his face harden as he looked down on them, asking coldly, “You killed Tarnok? Why? What kind of game were you playing? Did it amuse you to destroy a little boy’s pet for no reason?”

With each new question, his face came closer and closer to Elrohir’s, until he was just inches away, his large, solid presence menacing as he crowded the slim young elf. When Elrohir stared at him, not saying anything, the man’s mouth twisted in disgust and he spat, “Don’t play games with me, boy. I know you understand me. You elves all speak the common language. Stand there and act superior if you want to, but mark my words, I am the headman here and I’ll get to the bottom of this. Just because you’re an elf doesn’t mean you can get away with crimes in our village.”

Elladan hadn’t been able to form a coherent sentence up until this point, shaken and tired of feeling that things were out of control. But when the large man threatened his strangely impassive twin, Elladan pushed his way between them and managed to say calmly, “I assure you we did not attack your dog without cause. The truth of the matter is that it attacked me first and my brother was merely defending me. It was never a game.”

There was a flicker of doubt in the man’s eyes as he eyed the bandage on Elladan’s arm and the young elf felt a ray of hope that the misunderstanding could all be cleared up when another voice chimed in.

“He’s a liar, Papa!” Benny interjected vehemently. Turning to Elladan, he added, “You just wanted to claim the boar for yourself. Tarnok and I, we hunted it, we killed it, but you thought you could take it away.” Twisting to once more face his father, now with tears in his eyes, Benny said, “We had just killed a boar, Papa, when they pushed me aside so they could take it. Tarnok saw them and tried to defend me. All he was doing was keeping them from hurting me.”

Elladan looked at Benny in astonishment at the blatant lie. The boy was claiming the boar kill as his own? And was asserting that the twins attacked him? It was so brazenly false that a rush of anger flushed through him. He had had enough of this farce. They’d lost their boar, no doubt consumed by forest creatures by now, and they’d lost the better part of the day carrying a dead dog to help out a sad boy, who apparently was repaying their kindness with lies. Elladan tried to catch his twin’s eye, wanting to communicate he was ready to leave…now, but Elrohir was pointedly not looking at him.

Wanting to kick his twin...hard...for being so pigheaded, Elladan swiftly ran through options in his head on ways to get them out of this mess.

Before he could come up with a diplomatic solution that his father, as well as his trainers, would approve of, a wiry man listening to the exchange moved forward and addressed the group with feral gleam in his eyes.

“You see! You see! This is what I’ve been trying to tell you. This is what we get for trusting elves. You’re fools to think they’re our friends. They steal our food and, if not for the bravery of poor Tarnok, might have even hurt young Benny. They need to be punished!”

“What?!” blurted Elladan at the ridiculous statement. “We were hunting a boar, on elven lands, when your beast, unprovoked, attacked. When we saw how upset the boy was, we offered to carry the dog back to your village. We stole nothing and certainly haven’t earned any...punishment.”

“So you are fools as well as thieves,” the skinny man nastily hissed. “These lands are controlled by our village, not some elf. Any boar you hunt in these woods belongs to us. So not only do you need to answer for the death of poor Benny’s hunting dog, but also for trying to steal our game. Game which is needed to feed our people.”

“Is that what this is about? Who has rights to the boar?” asked Elladan, his voice cooling. He was not about to let this odious man intimidate him. He folded his arms in front of him and looked every inch an elven lord as he continued, “Well it’s a pity that dog attacked us. Our intent was to present the boar, that we had hunted on our lands, to your village as a gift from the elven lord, Elrond. Of course I’m sure by now the forest has claimed it, so none will benefit barring the scavengers.”

Once again, Elladan thought the headman, Benny’s father, would see reason. His demeanor had calmed down and he appeared to be considering the situation.

Elladan answered readily, “Aye. I agree this is near the edge of our territory, but these forests are elven lands under the protection of Lord Elrond. The hunt for the boar was a part of our training, as was our delivery him to you. We took down the boar, but before we could prepare it, I was attacked by your son’s dog. My brother did kill it, but only to defend me.”

The man nodded reflectively, then turned to his son, “Benny, is what he says true? Did Tarnok attack him first? Are you trying to lie to me?”

“No! He’s the one lying, honest, Papa. It happened just like I said. They saw that I’d killed the boar and I guess they wanted it. They didn’t say what they were going to do with it, but when they came to take it, I wouldn’t let them and they pushed me. That’s when Tarnok bit him.”

If Elladan hadn’t been there himself and known the truth, he might have been persuaded to believe the boy. The beseeching, open look in his face certainly was convincing.

“No! I didn’t push your son. My brother didn’t push your son. No one pushed your son. He is, I am sorry to inform you, a liar,” Elladan said firmly.

“Frank, I can’t believe you’re standing here listening to this.” The wiry man who had spoken up earlier addressed Benny’s father in an angry tone. “It’s obvious these elven brats are the ones lying. What would Benny have to gain by not telling the truth? Surely you believe your own son before these two trespassers.”

Benny’s father, Frank, looked at him and then around at the rest of the villagers. They all chimed in at this point, agreeing angrily that it was the elves who were lying, who should be punished.

Elladan tensed as the shouts grew louder and villagers crowded in. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they attacked him or his brother. He had never imagined his first combat being against a bunch of human villagers, but then again, he had never imagined himself in this kind of situation at all. He forced his hand to not reach for his sword. If he had to fight, he wasn’t going to be the one to start things.

Once again, however, it was Benny’s father as the village leader who calmed things down by raising his hand for silence.

“We...” broke in Elladan, but he was cut off when Frank raised his hand again, silencing the young elf as well.

“As I was saying, my son has no reason to lie to me. However, in the interest of the long friendship we have shared with the elves, I will not insist on contesting your decision to hunt on our grounds.”

Elladan wanted to scream at the man...they had been on elven lands. They’d done nothing wrong. He held his tongue, though. If the man was going be reasonable, he was willing to remain silent on that point.

Frank wasn’t finished, though. “What is clear from both of your accounts, however, is that Tarnok, my son’s hunting dog, was killed by him,” he said, pointing at Elrohir. “A well-trained hunting dog is very valuable to us and we are owed compensation.”

Elladan snorted inelegantly at the preposterous statement. “In the first place, your beast of a dog attacked us. If there was any form of compensation required, it should be from you to us. And moreover, even if we were to agree that you were the wronged party, which we in no way do, with what could we possibly pay you. Do you honestly believe we carry coin when we’re hunting?” Elladan finished sarcastically, disgusted and angry all at once.

“I hoped you would have something so we could clear this up quickly,” Frank said coolly, “but if not, we will just have to wait.”

“It’s simple, really. We will keep him with us,” Frank said, pointing at Elrohir, “while you go fetch a responsible adult so we may discuss this situation further.”

Elladan fought to keep his expression calm. Adult? Who were these men anyway? Their dog attacks him and Elrohir, they want compensation or for Elrohir to stay with them, something he wouldn’t even consider, and now they apparently didn’t find him competent to resolve the situation with them? He and Elrohir were, after all, lords themselves. Maybe it was time to let the men know exactly who they were dealing with.

“I am perfectly able to discuss this situation with you. You needn’t wait for an adult,” he said, spitting out the last word as if it were offensive. Continuing on with more dignity, he added, “My brother and I, the sons of Lord Elrond, have represented our people before and are perfectly capable of doing so now.”

Frank visibly paled as the words sunk in and the problem may resolved itself right then, except the other villagers didn’t seem to be as impressed as their headman at Elladan’s words.

“Blasted elves! Always think they’re so superior. Even their kids think they’re better than us!”

It was getting uglier as the villagers became more and more worked up. Elladan couldn’t let it get to far.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not,” he shouted, causing the crowd to fall silent. Continuing in a quieter voice, he said, “We will let my father know your concerns when we return home and you may petition him if you feel necessary.”

“Indeed!” Frank responded in disbelief. “You leave and that’s the last we see of you. You expect us to believe your father, whoever he may be, would send us our due? No, we keep your brother here while you go back home alone.”

The confidence and righteous anger that Elladan had been feeling up to this point was oozing out of him as he realized these men were serious. They weren’t just making noise to hear themselves, they really expected him to leave Elrohir behind. He realized that he was out of his depth and found himself wishing paradoxically for one of his instructors to show up. Even if it made him look young and inept, he’d be happy this once if an ‘adult’ were there to take over.

Licking his lips, he looked at the men arrayed before the twins. None of them showed even the slightest hint that they were sympathetic and for the first time since this whole stupid affair started, he found himself genuinely scared. He would not leave his twin behind.

“No,” he said, as forcefully as he could. “We have done nothing wrong and you have no right to hold him.”

One of the men leaned forward, leering into Elladan’s face, “You’re the only one who says you’ve done nothing wrong, but you’re just a stinkin’ elf. Why should we believe you when one of our own says you’re lying?”

Elladan’s eyes flashed and he tensed up ready to shove the man’s words down his throat, when a firm hand on his arm drew his attention.

Speaking for the first time, Elrohir said to him in their own tongue, “No. Go. Find one of the masters. I will stay.”

Elladan pulled his arm away, shocked his brother would even consider staying behind with these people. Ignoring the men still arrayed around them, he responded to Elrohir similarly in elvish, “No! Don’t be a fool. We owe this village nothing.”

“Yes it does!” Elladan interrupted. “You aren’t thinking clearly. Not only do we not owe them anything, but these are not our people. We cannot know what they do to prisoners.”

Elrohir was also wary about these humans, but perversely was willing to stay if only to prove to Elladan that he could make his own decisions.

“But nothing. They will not release us both and we certainly cannot fight our way out.”

“For how long? A week? Two? Three? And do you really think only one of the masters would come? No. They’d all show up here. How will it look when the entire class has to come and rescue us? Not only would we have failed our test, but we’d become the laughingstocks of our peers for eternity. It is better you leave now and keep this as quiet as possible.”

It was a strong argument, but Elladan had no way of knowing his brother’s real justification was to prove to himself that he was not Elladan’s puppet. It had nothing to do with saving face.

Caught up in the immediate situation, Elladan was oblivious to his brother’s inner thoughts and hissed, “You can’t be serious. I don’t care what the others think. You really want me to leave you here? I expect they won’t let you roam free. You’d be locked up. Is that what you’re agreeing to?”

Elladan was flabbergasted. How many times had the training masters drilled into them the need for the teams to stay together during the test? To look out for one another? If no other solution presented itself, they both should stay. It was ludicrous for Elrohir to even consider remaining alone. He couldn’t leave his foolish brother with these wretched, ignorant people.

It was utterly the wrong choice of words and Elladan knew it the instant they left his mouth. Practically choking, he sputtered, “I mean…”

The younger twin drew himself up as tall as he could and his eyes narrowed. “Of course. I forget myself. What exactly does Your Lordship recommend we do?” he asked in a harsh voice Elladan barely recognized as his brother’s.

“Elrohir…” he pleaded, feeling sick. The rest of the villagers might as well have been on another continent as Elladan’s vision tunneled on his brother. “Elrohir...look, I didn’t mean it that way. I told you I’m sorry for earlier. I really, truly am. But this is mad. I won’t leave you.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Elladan. Either I have an equal say, or I don’t,” Elrohir said harshly.

“Elrohir...” Elladan groaned. This whole discussion was about to make him stark raving mad! Just because he wasn’t about to leave Elrohir behind didn’t mean he thought he was in charge.

“Quit spewing that sissy language!” His thoughts were interrupted as a particularly large villager grabbed Elladan’s uninjured arm and shook him.

Reacting instantly, Elrohir jerked the man’s hand away from his brother. Furious or not with Elladan, no one was going to touch him. “Enough. I’ll stay,” he said decisively.

“Good,” said Frank quickly, appearing relieved to settle things before anyone became violent.

“But I didn’t agree,” said Elladan, alarm robbing his voice of the command he was trying for.

Elladan opened his mouth, desperately trying to think of something to say, but no sound came out. How did things get so out of control? He and Elrohir had found more than their share of tight situations in the past, given their sense of mischief, but between them they’d always found ways to solve problems before they got too out of control. Of course, that was it. There was no “them” at the moment. Elladan’s ill-considered words had created a divide that had pushed them apart and right into this mess. It was his fault. Maybe he should just agree to let Elrohir do what he wanted and be done with this whole wretched affair.

“Very well,” he choked out in a small voice. “I’ll go find one of our trainers.”

Even as he spoke, he couldn’t believe he’d actually said those words. He was really going to leave Elrohir behind? His worried eyes sought his brother’s and for a brief moment their eyes met. Elrohir looked determined, however there was a hint of sadness in there as well. Elladan was marginally comforted that his twin was obviously hating the distance between them as much as he was.

“I’ll go,” he said again quietly, but then added in a stronger voice, “but I want to see where he will be staying.”

Frank nodded, “Fair enough. We’ll keep him in the storeroom. Come. I’ll show you both.”

The crowd followed a short distance behind as the two elves silently followed the headman.

They stopped near the far end of the village next to a small, well-built structure. Frank gestured for a man to come forward, who pulled out a key and unlocked the heavy door before motioning them all inside.

Elladan’s anxiety level fell dramatically as he viewed the storeroom. It was small but airy, with windows high up to allow for ventilation. There were barrels stacked up against one wall and a few piles of sacks along another, but the rest was empty and clean.

“We’ll bring in bedding, some food, books...he’ll be kept comfortable while you’re gone,” said Frank mildly. “Satisfied?”

“Ro?” questioned Elladan. They both knew he wasn’t asking about the accommodations. It was one last chance for Elrohir to say he’d changed his mind and they would find another solution.

Elladan knew his twin was going to say that, but it still took him a moment to accept that he was really about to leave Elrohir behind with people who were admittedly unfriendly.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat which had suddenly tightened up on him. “I guess I’ll see you in a few days, then. Uh...keep out of trouble,” he added, failing badly at an attempt to lighten things up.

“Safe journey,” was all Elrohir said before walking over to a stack of barrels, sliding to the floor and leaning against one.

After a last look at his twin, Elladan walked out, cringing as he heard the lock click shut.

He turned to the headman and said, “I will return soon.” Then, unconsciously changing his posture, effortlessly showing all who saw him that, yes, he was an elven lord, he added in a commanding voice that could have come from Elrond himself, “You had better see to it that he comes to no harm.”

“That was it?! That was your new story? Elrohir was locked in a stupid little storage room? I thought it would at least be another story of dungeons and rats. Now you tell me he can’t even manage being locked in a room for a few days. Oh Valar! What next?”

Estel’s disgusted outburst stopped Elladan’s train of thought and he blinked as he pulled his thoughts from long-ago events to the present.

He glared at his little brother, both for the interruption as well as the words. “Aye, they locked him in a well-lit, cheery little store room and that is how I left him. But that is not the end of the story, Estel. Mind your tongue and your thoughts until you hear the rest.”

Elladan frowned. In recounting the story, he’d brought up a lot of bad feelings that he’d just as soon never revisit. This was one of the few times that he and Elrohir had been so completely at odds with one another and, like every other time when they’d truly fought, it had ended badly.

He sighed as he reminded himself that this had happened centuries ago and everything was fine between himself and Elrohir. Shaking off the gloom, he thought about where to pick up the story again. His journey to find the training masters? Their not-so-favorable reaction to his story? His frantic journey back? He shifted his body to get more comfortable, took a sip of water from a cup Legolas handed him, and then began again.

A/N: No, haven’t been hit by a bus or anything...I’m still here. This is the section of the chapter that has plagued me forever. I can’t even count how many times I’ve rewritten it. Dozens? A hundred? I don’t know. Bits and pieces that just never fit together. I made Benny a young man, I gave him a brother who came later and confronted the twins, I made Benny speak a language the twins couldn’t understand, I made Elrohir’s behavior more hurt than standoffish and wrote about his thoughts rather than just Elladan’s, I gave Elrohir a bigger voice in the village, I made Benny’s father the nasty, wiry fellow instead of the headman, blah, blah, blah. Basically, this section has been tormenting me long enough and I finally plowed my way through it. Whew! Done!

(Elladan picks up his story from when he arrived back at the elven camp and was briefing the training master on the situation...)

“…and then instead of waiting at Brightfalls together, you left Elrohir? Knowing our clear instructions are to stay together unless there are absolutely no other options?”

Training Master Calas’s question interrupted Elladan’s narration of events. He’d been explaining what led him to return to camp early, without successfully completing his training task…and without his brother.

Unthinking, the exhausted young elf ignored the tone in the master’s voice and responded abruptly, “Aye, as I just said. But he wasn’t in any danger. In fact, I expect he’s enjoying himself immensely, resting and feasting while I battled wind and rain in a race to find you.”

The master’s stronger tone, laced with warning, should have cautioned Elladan to tread lightly, but he was wet, tired beyond belief, his arm ached terribly, and for the moment his concern for his brother along with his better sense fled. After he’d left Brightfalls, he’d run for the most of the first day, anxious to complete his mission and get Elrohir away from those odious men. He’d finally stopped for the night and gone to sleep, pleased with his progress and eager to rest so he could get up the next morning and get to camp as soon as possible. Bad weather had rolled in after midnight, however, and he woke up in the wee hours of the morning to cold rains and whipping wind.

He completed the rest of his journey under wretched conditions. Rivers of slick mud made the path treacherous and driving rain made it hard to see at times—a combination that considerably delayed his travel by more than a day and, moreover, caused the usually surefooted elf to slip numerous times. He’d jarred his injured arm more than once when he’d fallen until it had become a constant, throbbing mass of pain.

The resulting misery and lack of sleep twisted the anxiety he felt for his brother into resentment that Elrohir was waiting in comfort while he was forced to suffer. In short, the earlier lesson he’d been certain he’d never forget—never let physical discomfort drive one’s temper—flew out of his mind and his response reflected his irritation.

“Would I have preferred to sit in a nice, dry room with plenty of food and drink rather than run through the forests for days on end in this infernal rain? What do you think? While I was practically swimming through mud, he was comfortable and warm. He’s probably sitting there right now gloating, for he also knew I’d end up getting grilled when I got here. Of course he has the easier task and he knows it, the stupid troll.”

Calas scowled darkly at his charge’s testy, bad-mannered tone. He knew Elladan was stressed, tired, and injured, so he had been allowing the youth a little more freedom than normal to express himself. But rudeness was simply not acceptable behavior for a warrior, regardless of his youth.

In harsh tones, Calas scolded, “A prisoner is a prisoner, no matter how gilded the cage. Your brother is not to be envied. And your manners are not befitting your position as either a young warrior or a lord. You disgrace your father and your teachers with your behavior and would do well to guard your tongue, foolish elfling.”

Elladan’s jaw tightened. Elfling? How dare he? No one called him ‘elfling. Well, except for Glorfindel, but that was just teasing. It was monumentally insulting for a training master to call a nearly graduated novice an elfling. And complaining about his manners? Anger clouded his features but before he could speak, he was cut off by Calas.

The angry rebuke delivered in the master’s most commanding voice finally cut through Elladan’s exhausted irritation and he closed his mouth with a snap. At that moment, his brain caught up with his mouth and a little tingle of fear shivered down his back as he thought about what he’d been about to say. What was he thinking? The training masters demanded the novices’ utmost respect—respect they had earned—and his demeanor had been nothing short of rude. Master Calas was right. He was behaving disgracefully.

He dropped his eyes for a moment, composing himself, then squared his shoulders and looked up into the master’s eyes. He may be a stupid elfling, but he did know how to take responsibility for his actions, no matter how shameful they were.

“My sincere apologies Master Calas,” he said respectfully. “I offer no excuses…you are right to call me a foolish elfling, as I was behaving as one. I…you are also right that I would not wish to be held captive, under any circumstances and I…,” he sighed, “I am troubled about Elrohir. I did not wish to leave him there.” With his anger gone, he once again remembered how he’d felt leaving his twin with the unfriendly people of Brightfalls. Valar, what was wrong with him? Elrohir was not larking about, but a prisoner, subject to the whims of his captors. Worry and remorse crept into his heart and he suddenly felt bone-weary. “I am sorry,” he finished miserably with a deep sigh.

Calas saw his charge wilt and softened his expression as he regarded the young lord. At times Elladan could behave rashly, but he was a good lad at heart. Calas could never stay upset with him for long, especially now seeing how Elladan’s energy appeared to have flown with his temper and he seemed about to collapse.

“Come,” he said, “we will tend to your arm, find you a warm meal, and allow you to have a good night’s rest. Then we shall leave tomorrow to fetch your brother.”

It sounded delightful, but having been reminded of his concern for his twin, Elladan couldn’t help but feel they should be heading back without delay.

“Master Calas,” he said, “respectfully, should we not start the journey today? It is not yet evening.”

Calas shook his head, “The foul weather would keep us from traveling any great distance this night. And without proper rest, despite your desire to return quickly, you would delay us. Nay. Eat, rest, and before sunrise, we will be on our way.”

Elladan nodded his acquiescence. He really did want to be starting back immediately, but was honestly thankful someone else was making the decisions. Relieved of the burden of responsibility for retrieving his brother, he allowed himself the luxury of simply letting others take control. He sat quietly while Calas rebandaged his arm, ate the meal placed in front of him without thinking, and then sunk into the blankets someone had kindly laid out for him. He was asleep in moments.

When Elladan awoke the next morning, he not only felt much better after a good night’s rest, but he also found a wonderful surprise awaiting him. Glorfindel had arrived at their camp overnight. The ancient warrior had always taken great joy in watching young ones progress towards becoming warriors, so if he wasn’t otherwise occupied, he made a point of celebrating with each group of junior novices as they completed their summer training. The twins had been looking forward to his arrival and sharing their success with him, but in all the turmoil of the last few days, Elladan had honestly forgotten to expect him. He was especially pleased when he learned that it would be Glorfindel accompanying him back to Brightfalls. If anyone could fix things, he could.

The journey back to the human village was far more pleasant than Elladan’s trip to the elven camp. The weather wasn’t any more cooperative, and in fact the trails were even more muddy and washed out than before, but being with Glorfindel made Elladan feel so much more optimistic about everything. Simply having a companion made it all more bearable. It reminded him just how fortunate he and Elrohir were to have each other—he pitied everyone who didn’t have a twin.

So despite the dismal weather, the pair arrived a few days later at Brightfalls with every confidence they would soon retrieve Elrohir and be done with the whole irritating affair.

Their arrival was noted before they even entered the settlement and by the time they reached the center of Brightfalls, they were surrounded by a large group of interested townspeople. At the front of the group was their Headman, Frank Tober.

“Greetings Master Elf,” he said formally, speaking to the tall warrior. “I am Frank Tober, headman here, and I speak for all when I welcome you to Brightfalls. I expect your young friend has explained the situation and trust we can come to a suitable arrangement quickly.

Glorfindel looked over the man who had had the audacity to imprison a young elven lord. The man didn’t seem like a fool, but appearances could be deceiving. Regardless, Glorfindel’s main concern was to see Elrohir and ensure his well-being—the man could be dealt with later.

“Greetings Master Tober,” responded Glorfindel politely. “I thank you for your welcome and am also confident we can resolve any issues between us. Before we discuss anything further, however, I would like to speak to Lord Elorhir.”

Glorfindel looked down at Elladan, who’d remained silently by his side. Hadn’t the boy explained who they were? When he saw how crossly Elladan was staring at the men, however, he decided not to ask. Better not to give the boy any opening to voice his anger.

Turning back to the headman, he explained, “I speak of the elven youth in your custody, of course. Did he not tell you his name?”

“Of course,” answered Frank smoothly. “His brother here did mention they were the sons of your lord. I hadn’t considered they had their own titles as well. My apologies. It was not my intent to offend you.”

Glorfindel nodded politely, impressed with the man’s easy manner despite himself. The headman may not have been wise when he decided to lock up an elf, but it was clear he wasn’t stupid either. He hoped that didn’t indicate the misunderstanding had honestly been the twins’ fault. He’d have to find out more details later. For now however…

“Titles aside, I do need to see the boy before anything else. You understand his well-being is my top priority.”

Frank smiled pleasantly. “Naturally. If you both will follow me, I will take you to him.”

The man waited for the elves to join him, then he turned and started through the crowd of villagers, who parted for the trio to walk through. They walked in silence through the village until they reached, and then passed, the small building where Elladan had left his brother.

“Excuse me,” he said, a touch of concern in his voice. “But isn’t this the storeroom where you said you would hold my brother? Is he not here?”

Frank stopped and looked at it briefly. “Well, yes,” he answered. “This was where I’d planned to hold him. However, due to the rains several of our farmers chose to bring in some crops early and we had need of the storage space. We found we needed to move your brother, but he’s been kept safe and comfortable in another storage area. We have many rooms carved out of the caves that run through the hillsides that we use for longer term storage and it is there he has been awaiting your return.

Elladan frowned when he heard Elrohir had been kept in a cave. Despite the assurances of the man, he didn’t trust any of these nasty people to keep his brother safe, especially in a cave. Didn’t they know elves do not belong underground? Scowling darkly, he followed the man and Glorfindel to the outskirts of town and then through a set of heavy doors guarding the entrance to a tunnel-like opening in the hillside.

Some of the villagers must have run ahead, for several of them were waiting at the entrance with a lit torch and a set of keys. They were handed to the headman with some murmured words that the elves couldn’t hear, and then Master Tober called for the elves to follow him. The other villagers stayed behind while the elves walked into the dark dampness, following the flickering torchlight to their missing loved one.

As the trio descended deeper into the underground labyrinth of storage chambers, Elladan’s sense of an undefined wrongness began to fill him, his whole body tightening with anxiety. It wasn’t that he could feel through his connection with his twin that there was something wrong...rather, it was that he couldn’t feel anything. Not good, not bad, just...nothing. Elladan knew that distance affected how much he and Elrohir could sense from each other so that had not troubled him overly before, but now that he was closing in on his brother, the emptiness was starting to scare him. Badly. Something wasn’t right.

Elladan was aching to just push past the unhurried headman and sprint ahead as they made their way deeper, but he didn’t know where to go. His usual sense of “Elrohir is this way” was missing, forcing him to wait impatiently for the man to lead the way.

Finally, after endless turns down endless passages, they stopped in a dead-end alcove facing a large, solid door. A heavy lock prevented Elladan from yanking it open, so instead he pushed past the headman and pounded on it loudly.

“Ro! Ro, are you there?” he shouted as he continued to bang the door with his fist. “It’s Elladan. I’m back. Elrohir, answer me!”

Even with the keen hearing of elves, he couldn’t detect any noise from behind the door and so he hammered it again, shouting for his brother, “Elrohir!”

A tiny, sane part of Elladan wondered if he was overreacting, but that didn’t stop him from changing tactics and he slammed into the door with his shoulder again and again, desperate to get inside. Logic tried to tell him he had no proof that his twin was in any distress. The headman didn’t seem in any way sinister and the men of Brightfalls would have had no reason to harm Elrohir, especially if they were hoping for some kind of recompense for the dog. But Elladan’s rational side wasn’t directing his actions. He was almost choking with the certainty that his brother was in serious trouble and needed him...now! He’d only felt this way once before—when Elrohir had been lost in that horrid cave when they’d been small. It was that same sense of fear, hurt, and horror he had prayed to never again associate with his twin. He HAD to get through that door.

It was only when a hand grabbed his shoulder and caught him before he injured himself that he realized Glorfindel had been trying to talk to him.

“Elladan, stand back and allow Master Tober to open the lock,” Glorfindel said slowly, making sure that the young elf understood him before letting him go.

Elladan nodded jerkily, and moved away from the door, the pure adrenaline running through his body making it hard to stand aside and wait for the headman to turn the key and pull open the door.

Glorfindel grabbed Elladan’s arm before he could dash into the room, not knowing what they might be facing. He didn’t expect Elladan to fight him, however, and when the young elf elbowed his midsection with vicious precision and kicked his shin, he loosened his grip with an oath and the nimble youngster pulled away and slipped into the inky darkness.

“Give me the torch,” Glorfindel barked as he pulled it away from Headman Tober, rushing in after Elladan. It was bad enough to fear something was wrong with Elrohir, but he wasn’t about to let anything happen to the elder twin as well.

When the light penetrated the gloom, the scene wasn’t what they’d been prepared for. With Elladan’s obvious alarm, both the elves had expected Elrohir to be in peril and were ready to rescue him from whatever evil threatened him. But the reality showed nothing even remotely menacing in the room. Elrohir was simply sitting back against a large crate situated in the middle of the room, blinking against the torchlight as they entered.

Glorfindel barely kept himself from running into Elladan’s back when the younger elf stopped abruptly.

“Huh...” said Elladan, in surprise and relief, glancing over his shoulder at Glorfindel. Embarrassed, he added, “Um, he’s all right.”

Elladan turned back to his twin and said, “I’m sorry I took so long. Bad weather delayed us. I hope that you...you….…...Ro?”

He paused when he realized that his twin hadn’t moved at all and instead of looking at him, Elrohir was staring ahead at nothing.

“Ro?” he said again when his twin didn’t even blink. When that again resulted in no change, he cautiously moved forward and crouched down, gently touching Elrohir’s arm in an attempt to gain his attention. “Elrohir...”

The reaction was instantaneous, Elrohir pulled his arm sharply away from Elladan and slammed back against the crate, kicking out with his feet at the same time and growling, “No!”

Elladan’s head whipped back when the kick caught him on the cheek. Reeling, he fell off-balance and squeaked out, “Glorfindel...” sounding more like a scared child than he had in decades, but he didn’t care...didn’t even notice. He was scared—something was terribly wrong.

Glorfindel knelt quickly by Elladan, taking the youngster’s chin in his hands to inspect the damage. Elladan’s cheek was already bruising and his eyes were full of tears, but Glorfindel wasn’t sure if it was due to pain or fear for his twin.

“Glorfindel…” said the young elf again, pleading, and this time the warrior was certain—Elladan wasn’t even thinking of his own injury—he was terrified for his brother.

With a light caress on Elladan’s uninjured cheek, Glorfindel turned away and crouched down in front of Elrohir, staying far enough back so the youth wouldn’t feel threatened. Glorfindel felt his heart sink in dismay as he regarded his charge. The flickering light of the torch had masked what he could see clearly now that he was right in front of Elrohir—his hair was unkempt, his face bruised and smeared with dirt and traces of blood, and who knew what his tunic was hiding. But what really worried Glorfindel was the look he saw in Elrohir’s eyes. It was a hint of a wild, lost look he’d seen in those who were overwhelmed by an ordeal they couldn’t handle—it alarmed him to see it even a trace of it in the eyes of this beloved young elf.

“Elrohir, it’s Glorfindel,” he said gently. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. May I please come closer?”

The cinch around his heart began to loosen when Elrohir turned his head to look at him, but when there was no recognition in his eyes and his lips curled in a snarl, Glorfindel felt it constrict again. Swallowing his fear, he tried again, “I promise, I am here to help. Please, may I come closer?”

A flicker of something passed through Elrohir’s eyes but it was clear the elf wasn’t hearing him. For a moment it had looked like Elrohir had understood him and his eyes had lightened, but then the glimpse of rationality melted into pure hostility. Glorfindel choked back the spreading fear he felt in his own heart. He had seen the devastating result of too much trauma and wasn’t prepared to face it in Elrohir. He’d expected the boy to be grumpy after days of confinement, perhaps hungry if he hadn’t eaten well, but that was it. He’d never even considered that Elrohir had faced any real danger. What could have happened?

A scuffling sound to his right drew Glorfindel’s attention and he saw Elladan, obviously still very upset, inching towards his brother.

Holding a hand up to stop Elladan’s movements, Glorfindel looked back to Elrohir and then slowly shifted forward himself, reaching out an upturned hand and trying not to frighten the obviously distressed young elf. He hesitated before touching Elrohir, stilling himself in order not to spook him.

“Elrohir,” he said, with as much love as he could put in his voice, “I’d like to take you out of here now. Would you please take my hand so I can help you up?”

Glorfindel held his breath while Elrohir stared back at him, revealing nothing. After long moments when neither of them even blinked, Glorfindel slowly inched his hand forward, looking for any sign of recognition in Elrohir. Suddenly Elrohir burst into movement, his feet scrambling against the floor ineffectively as he frantically tried to press further back into the crate, a low keening sound coming from his lips.

Instinctively, Glorfindel moved towards Elrohir rather than away from him. He’d comforted both twins as children when they were frightened, and every fiber of his being wanted to wrap Elrohir in his arms until the youth felt safe.

Before Glorfindel could touch him, though, Elrohir let out an unintelligible scream and kicked out at the approaching elf.

Unused to feeling so utterly out of control of a situation, Glorfindel drew sharply back, afraid to make things any worse. Once he’d moved a safe distance away, Elrohir again stilled, although he now kept his eyes shifting around warily to each of the others in the room.

Glorfindel shook himself mentally. He’d been unprepared to find the young elf in this condition and was letting his love for the boy keep him from thinking clearly. Forcing himself to calmly assess the situation, he debated his next move.

Keeping his voice low and calm, he addressed the headman, who’d been unmoving since they’d entered the room, “Master Tober, please explain. Why is Elrohir in this state? What has happened to him?”

Frank Tober swallowed audibly. He was a big, powerful man, leader of his people and unafraid of most things, but right now he was horrified at what he saw. He’d not personally checked on the young elf since they’d moved him and had no idea anything had happened to the boy. Not only was he keenly aware of how this may affect his village’s relations with the elves, but he felt genuine concern for the elven youth who had been left in his care.

“I don’t know,” Frank said as evenly as his racing heart would allow. “I believed him to be well and in no danger. These tunnels are used only by our people for storage. I…I cannot understand this.”

“Find out. Now,” ordered the elven warrior, the fact that he was crouching on the ground and spoke the words calmly in no way diminishing the obvious power behind the order.

“I…Yes. Yes, of course. I will return momentarily with Pedar. He is responsible for the tunnels and will know what happened,” said Frank, grateful for an excuse to get away for a few minutes and collect his own thoughts.

After Frank left, the room was silent, the occupants unmoving and unspeaking until a quiet whisper broke through.

Deciding it was safe for the moment to see to Elladan, Glorfindel slowly took his eyes off Elrohir and turned to the elder twin. Elladan’s cheek was a dark red where he’d been kicked and his eyes were wide and frightened.

With his mentor’s attention on him, Elladan continued to whisper, “What’s wrong with him? He’s so angry. Is he like this because of me? Is he still mad at me?”

Glorfindel’s sympathy went out to Elladan. The boy had been blaming himself for leaving Elrohir behind in the first place—finding his brother in such a bad state would only make him feel worse. But it was clear Elrohir’s condition was the result of more than petty squabbling with his brother.

Hurting inside for both his charges, Glorfindel answered in a low, purposeful voice, “I do not know what ails him, but I do know his actions are not directed at you. I do not believe he even knows us. Perhaps he is lashing out because he does not feel safe.”

“But I don’t understand,” Elladan said in a very small voice, his fear bleeding into his words. “Why not? Nothing here will hurt him. I won’t hurt him…”

Striving to project confidence, Glorfindel again responded in a low voice, “I know you won’t hurt him. And if Elrohir was fully aware of us, he would know that as well. I am certain he will feel better once we remove him from this place. Perhaps once he feels he is safe again, he will come back to us and in no time the two of you will once again be plotting mischief against your poor training masters.”

Elladan tried to smile at Glorfindel’s attempt at levity, but failed miserably. He’d caused the rift between himself and his twin to begin with and, despite what Glorfindel said, he knew everything that had happened since then, including his brother’s current distress, was his fault.

Glorfindel reached over and squeezed Elladan’s shoulder gently. “He will be fine,” he assured quietly, hoping to believe it himself.

For the next several minutes the three elves sat quietly, each lost in his own thoughts, Elrohir keeping pressed against the crate, Glorfindel kneeling several feet away from him, and Elladan sitting off to the side. All three were startled when the headman returned with another human, presumably the man responsible for the storage tunnels.

“Master elf,” said Frank, “this is Pedar. He controls these tunnels and will answer your questions regarding your young friend.”

Frank tried to speak with calm authority…after all, he was the headman here…but his voice cracked slightly at the end and he tensed as he waited for the elven warrior to speak. He’d attempted to get answers from Pedar as they were walking back, but hadn’t been satisfied with what he’d heard.

He’d given strict instructions that the boy was to be kept under lock and key, but treated courteously. Pedar, however, told him the youth had been trouble from the moment he’d been brought down and was completely uncooperative. They gave him food, but he’d thrown it against the wall. He’d fought tooth and nail to escape every time the door was opened. He’d yelled himself hoarse, screaming at his captors to let him out. In short, the elf had behaved so appallingly that the men had finally just left him alone. Frank believed there were elements of truth in Pedar’s account, but it didn’t explain at all why the boy appeared, for lack of a better term, traumatized. He just hoped Pedar wasn’t hiding something that would prove his people had mistreated the young elf.

Glorfindel, who’d stood when the men entered, turned back to Elladan and said softly, “Elladan, move near your brother, but very slowly and do not touch him. I want you to speak quietly to him and keep his attention. Keep him calm. I must go out into the corridor and speak with these men, but I do not want him wondering what we’re doing and become distressed. Now go ahead but no sudden moves. Don’t spook him. He’s frightened enough.”

Frightened? Elladan looked at Glorfindel and then back at Elrohir. From the glare the younger twin was shooting back at him, he didn’t look scared—he looked wildly angry. Elladan didn’t care to argue the distinction, though. Right now, it really didn’t matter. He would do whatever Glorfindel said, trusting him to know what to do. Nodding to acknowledge the instructions, Elladan slowly moved forward and knelt several feet away from his brother, trying to keep his voice even and low as he murmured softly, hoping to somehow to connect with his twin.

Talking about anything he could think of, he kept up a steady stream of meaningless conversation while Glorfindel and the men stepped out of the room.

Once he was fully in the corridor, Glorfindel regarded the two men coldly. He was glad he wasn’t a hot-headed youngster anymore, because he was certain he couldn’t have contained his anger without the self-control he’d gained over the millennia. These…men…were somehow responsible for Elrohir’s condition and he dearly wanted to make them pay. The priority, though, was to find out what happened to him—there would be time enough later to deal with the men if necessary.

“You were responsible for Lord Elrohir’s care?” he asked, emphasizing the title.

Pedar, who had been in charge of the tunnels for over a decade, was not impressed. Did this elf really think he cared who the boy was? An elf was an elf—besides, he’d done his duty. The boy had been fed, given water. It wasn’t his fault if the idiot had thrown it away.

“You mean the elf boy?” he asked, dismissively. “Aye. I took care of him. Not that he showed proper gratitude. Don’t teach your young ones much manners, do you?”

Not even a twitch betrayed Glorfindel’s desire to backhand the man. For now, at least, he was going to keep this civil. He needed to understand Elrohir’s condition. Afterwards, well, afterwards was another story. “His manners are not your concern. His condition, however, is mine,” he said flatly. “Can you explain why he is not well?”

Pedar looked at his headman, waiting for him to put the elf in his place. They didn’t owe the elves an explanation or anything else. It was their stupid brat who’d started the whole thing by killing one of their hunting dogs, after all. When Frank mouthed frantically, “answer him!,” Pedar rolled his eyes in disgust. Brightfalls didn’t need a gutless weakling as headman. Maybe he should start planting suggestions that Tober needed to be replaced. When Frank mouthed, “answer!” again, Pedar grimaced. Fine. He’d tell the elf what happened. Then maybe they’d leave and he’d be done with the whole stinkin’ lot of them!

Sighing out loud, he turned back to the elf and said, “He’s ‘not well’ because he’s a brat who doesn’t know how to behave himself. From the moment we put him down here he’s been nothing but trouble. We give him food…good stuff too…and he doesn’t touch it—throws it against the wall. We give him a torch, and he throws that too. He screams at us when we come in. He screams at us when we leave. He tries to escape. Even hit poor Quinn over the head and then ran off—almost made to the mouth of the caverns before we caught him. So he got what he deserved.”

Glorfindel frowned. If what the man was saying was true, then Elrohir was acting very out of character. He was the kind of child who’d always made a special effort to behave, even into his adolescence. It made no sense that the boy would create trouble without cause.

“Did he say anything to you? Did something upset him?” asked Glorfindel, trying to understand.

“Sure he said something,” said Pedar sarcastically. “Didn’t I just tell you he screamed at us all the time? He wanted out. Didn’t like to be locked up. Didn’t like the dark. Well that’s too bad. Shouldn’t have killed our dog. Needs to learn to take punishment like a man…even if he is an elf. Like I said, he got no worse that he deserved.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” broke in Frank hastily. “We did not intend harm to come to the lad. You must believe me. There is nothing here that could hurt him. We just didn’t realize your youth are mentally fragile.”

“Mentally fragile?” growled Glorfindel as his face flushed red. It wasn’t bad enough that something had hurt Elrohir, but now they insult his young lord. He’d had enough of this nonsense. With a look on his face that would terrify the hardiest of souls, Glorfindel addressed the headman, “Clearly something happened for I assure you he is not ‘mentally fragile.’ He was mistreated and I want to know how. Now!”

Turning to Pedar, Glorfindel continued, “And you, you pathetic little man, you will keep your witless opinions to yourself. Lord Elrohir is a brave, strong young warrior and has more mental fortitude than most. Simply locking him in the dark would not cause his current state.” Enunciating each word clearly and with obvious warning, Glorfindel finished, “So…what…did…you…do…to him?”

Under the elf’s menacing gaze, Pedar swallowed hard, finally catching on that the elf could actually be dangerous.

“Uh…I thought elves can see in the dark. And…and locking him up wasn’t my idea. He was a prisoner. I didn’t do anything wrong,” he insisted.

Still towering over the man, Glorfindel snarled, “Our eyes adjust better to conditions without much light, but we still need some to see. But that doesn’t explain his condition. So…help me understand,” he finished menacingly.

“Well…” stammered Pedar, “he, uh…he may have a few bruises from when he tried to escape. We didn’t have a choice but to rough him up a little bit since he kept fighting us. And, uhm…well…uh…we had to make sure he didn’t sneak up on us again like he did Quinn, so we put a cuff on him. He fussed a lot about that, but by then he was just speaking that elf talk and we couldn’t understand him anyway. That was his fault, you know. We had to do that because he kept trying to get away.”

Frank was sure he felt his blood freeze when he realized what the idiot Pedar had just implied. Reading between the lines, he realized the elven boy had been beaten, chained, left in pitch blackness…Frank felt ill. There was no way he could salvage his people’s good relationship with the elves now. Oh why had he listened to his son in the first place? He wasn’t even sure anymore if Benny had been telling the truth. He’d felt pressured to support his son in front of his people, but in hindsight he’d handled the whole situation poorly. He should never have kept the elf captive, even if he’d thought the boy would be well treated. What a disaster.

Unconcerned with Frank’s inner turmoil, Glorfindel was almost choking with rage. Chains? An elven lord had been put in chains? Moreover, his beloved young elven lord? Suddenly he didn’t care about the ‘why’ or the ‘how’ anymore. Regardless of what had happened to Elrohir, he knew he had to get him out. Now. He would deal with the consequences later and determine how to heal whatever was wrong. But he was going to take both the twins away from this horrid dark place and out into the fresh air again.

Not bothering to speak further to the men, Glorfindel shoved them both aside and slammed the door fully open, only remembering too late that might not have been smart considering Elrohir’s skittishness.

Sure enough, the younger twin shrunk back when Glorfindel strode in the room, which halted the warrior in his tracks. Glorfindel bit back a curse at his own stupidity and turned to the men, who were still standing out in the hallway.

Elladan, wide-eyed at Glorfindel’s loud entrance and obvious fury looked sharply at him, then to Elrohir, and finally back at Glorfindel, “Wha…?” he began before he was cut off by Glorfindel’s repeated growl, “Get it off him, NOW.”

It would have been funny to watch the two men practically falling over each other trying to get back into the room if it wasn’t for the thick tension surrounding everyone.

When the key was placed in Frank’s hand, he started to kneel next to Elrohir but was pulled back by a strong hand.

“No. Stay away from him,” snapped Glorfindel as he snatched the key away from the man. “You’ve done enough.”

“Elladan,” he began in a harsh voice before stopping himself. No need to upset the twins any more than they already were. “Elladan,” he said again, in a carefully controlled tone, “it appears your brother is chained. We need to remove the chains and get him out of here. We will deal with whatever ails him once we are away from this wretched place.”

“Chains?” asked Elladan, appalled, “I didn’t see…” but then he hesitated. Now that he was looking for it, he saw how Elrohir’s right arm had remained behind him the whole time. He also realized that a clinking sound he’d heard earlier wasn’t Elrohir simply bumping up against something, but must have been chains holding his brother. Heat infused his face as he was filled with a fury akin to Glorfindel’s. How dare they? Elrohir had volunteered to stay. Chaining him like an animal was an abomination.

“How should we do this?” he asked tightly, his fears disappearing with the anger and need to do something.

“I hold his arms. You take the key and free him. I carry him out of here,” said Glorfindel succinctly.

Elladan appreciated the no-nonsense, clear orders and nodded to indicate his understanding. They both wanted to get Elrohir away from this nightmare immediately.

Glorfindel didn’t give Elrohir any time to be frightened or fight back. Instead of distracting him or approaching him slowly, he leapt at the young elf and had him pinned before Elrohir could even see the threat.

It didn’t mean the younger twin didn’t fight, however. He put up a panicked, but brief struggle before he collapsed limply in his mentor’s arms.

With Elrohir subdued, Elladan swiftly moved forward and grabbed his brother’s right arm and pulled it forward, dragging a chain with it. It was attached to a ring on the floor which had effectively kept Elrohir pinned in place, unable to move away from the center of the room. Elladan nearly dropped his brother’s arm in horror when he saw the damage done. Elrohir’s wrist was swollen to the point that the metal shackle bit into the skin—the blood crusted around it a sign of fierce struggles he endured to free himself. It was hot to the touch and Elladan couldn’t imagine how much it must be hurting. He grimaced as he tried to hold it as gently as possible so as to not cause further injury while he unlocked the shackle.

Elrohir appeared oblivious to Elladan’s efforts until his brother pulled the metal from where it was embedded in his wrist. A small sound of pain escaped his lips, causing Elladan to wince himself in pain. It was soon done, though, and the chain dropped to the floor with a loud ‘clank!’

Elrohir startled with the noise and once again began to struggle. “No…” he murmured plaintively.

The pinned elf continued to thrash weakly while Glorfindel kept trying to quiet him. It didn’t seem like he was getting through, but after a few minutes Elladan reached over and touched his brother’s arm, adding his own soothing pleas, and Elrohir finally stilled. His eyes drifted over them both dazedly, then he closed them and sighed softly.

Elladan and Glorfindel shared a look, not sure if this latest development was a good or bad sign.

When his brother didn’t respond, Elladan whispered, “Should we just leave now?”

After just a moment’s contemplation, Glorfindel nodded and stood, still holding Elrohir in his arms. “Aye, I’ve had enough of this place and I’m confident I can say the same for Elrohir. We will try to reach him again once we’re outside.”

The elves began to walk to the door, but were stopped when Pedar stood in their way.

“Frank,” he said, addressing the silent headman, “You’re just going to let them leave? What about Benny’s dog?”

Frank actually gasped at the stupidity of the man. Given the condition of the elven youth, compensation for the dog was the farthest thing from his thoughts.

“Pedar, move!” he said angrily. The last thing he wanted was to upset the elves further. When Pedar,who had apparently forgotten how frightened he'd been by the elven warrior only minutes before, just looked at him, Frank literally shoved him aside.

“My apologies Master Elf,” the headman said. “Please…if you wish to take your young one out, we will follow you and can discuss things further outside.”

Glorfindel tightened his hold on Elrohir and walked out, not bothering to acknowledge either in an attempt to control his anger.

In short order, the group reached the outside of the caves. Everyone was pleased to see the rain had stopped and there was actually a touch of sun breaking through the clouds. After the oppressing gloom of the caves, the sunlight was a welcome change.

Glorfindel’s first desire once they were out in the sun was to put Elrohir down and assess his condition, but when a crowd started to form around the elves, he decided a little privacy was in order.

“Master Tober, is there somewhere quiet I can take Lord Elrohir to care for him?” he asked.

Frank, disliking the way the crowd was gawking at the elves himself, nodded immediately, “Of course. My home is just around the corner. You are welcome to use it as long as you need. Come this way. Pedar, you too. I want you there in case they have more questions.”

Frank, after receiving a nod of agreement from Glorfindel, strode off in the direction of his home, followed by the elves and Pedar.

His home was a modest structure built around a central courtyard paved with river stones. It was there that Glorfindel stopped and knelt down.

“Master Elf,” protested Frank, “Please, you are welcome to use my bed indoors for your young one. It is far more comfortable than the hard ground.”

Glorfindel breathed in deeply before answering. He was still sickened by these men for allowing Elrohir to be abused, but was also aware that the headman was not an inherently evil man.

“Thank you,” he said finally. “But we would prefer to be in the sun for now. I would appreciate some fresh water, however.”

“Of course,” murmured Frank, who quickly brought the water as well as a blanket upon which to place the injured elf. He then withdrew to the edge of the courtyard, hovering close enough to be available if needed, but out of the way. He motioned to Pedar to join him and the two men stood silently as the elves tended to Elrohir.

Glorfindel laid Elrohir down on the blanket, placing his head in Elladan’s lap and then used the water and a cloth to clean off the boy’s face. As the grime was washed away, Elrohir began to stir.

Perhaps it was the sun, the fresh air, or the sounds of beloved voices that finally penetrated the darkness, but something brought him back around and he deeply inhaled before opening his eyes. This time he didn’t struggle, but instead lay there quietly. In fact, it was Elladan who gasped suddenly.

“He’s here. I can…he…he’s…….Elrohir?” stuttered Elladan incoherently, staring at his twin.

Fortunately, Glorfindel had plenty of experience deciphering the way the twins’ minds worked and understood what Elladan meant—somehow, the bond between the two had been restored. It was undoubtedly a very good sign.

Elrohir twisted slowly in Elladan’s arms and looked up. He blinked several times and then said wearily, “Glorfindel?” His eyes shifted to his twin. “Elladan?”

A tremendous weight lifted off his companions’ shoulders as they saw true recognition in Elrohir’s eyes.

Glorfindel gave him a brilliant smile. “Aye, lad. It’s alright. You’re safe.”

“But where…what…” Confusion clouded Elrohir’s eyes as he tried to put together what was happening. Why was he lying in Elladan’s arms? Why were his brother’s eyes suspiciously bright? Elladan never cried. His eyes darted around. What was this place? Why was he here? What was wrong with him? Then his gaze landed on the men, hovering in the corner of the courtyard.

Elrohir stiffened and found it hard to breathe. Now he remembered where he was. “We need to leave,” he choked out. “We can’t stay. They’re here. They’ll get us. Please. We need to go.”

Elladan, who’d been overjoyed when Elrohir had snapped out of whatever fog he’d been in, grew concerned when he saw panic overtaking his brother once again. He squeezed Elrohir’s arm and tried to get his attention.

“Ro, it’s alright. We’re all fine. Glorfindel won’t let anything get us. Please. Be calm. Those men will not hurt you.”

Elrohir’s eyes filled with fear, now not just for himself. “No. Not them.” He looked around wildly and continued, “They’re here. This place is crawling with them. Didn’t you see them? We need to go. Please…”

Glorfindel and Elladan around with confusion, half expecting to see something lurking in the shadows, but found nothing. Something clearly had scared Elrohir, but since the men didn’t seem concerned, they couldn’t imagine what it was.

The men, who hadn’t followed the conversation since it had been in the elven tongue, noticed the young elf becoming agitated.

“Ugh. He’s fussing about those rats again, isn’t he?” asked Pedar in disgust. “I kept telling him they wouldn’t bother him.”

Glorfindel, Elladan, and Frank’s heads all whipped to Pedar in unison, as if controlled by a master puppeteer.

“Rats?” Elladan gasped before the others could say anything. “There were rats in the cave? You left him chained in a dark cave with rats?” His increasingly loud voice reflected his appalled horror.

“T’weren’t big ones,” scoffed Pedar indignantly, not at all intimidated by the young elf’s dark, angry look. Honestly, the elves were making a fuss over some little rodents. Besides, it was the dim-witted prisoner’s fault that he kept the rats stirred up by yelling and throwing things around. Stupidly, he voiced his contempt, “If he hadn’t hollered so much, they’d have left him alone. Our boys aren’t bothered by them at all.”

Frank grabbed Pedar’s sleeve and yanked him around and hissed, “Silence, you fool! You wish to bring the wrath of the entire elven nation down upon our heads?”

Pedar jerked his sleeve away from Frank but wisely kept his mouth shut. He may not be intimidated by the young elf, but he knew better than to make Frank really mad—or, come to think of it—the elven warrior who had appeared so fearsome in the cavern.

Glorfindel and Elladan couldn’t have cared less about the men, however, as they turned back to Elrohir, horrified at the implications. They were both intimately aware of Elrohir’s reaction to rats and weren’t sure what they could say that wouldn’t remind him of things best forgotten.

“They’re everywhere. This place crawls with them. I tried to ignore them. I really did,” he said, clutching Elladan’s arm tightly as he remembered. “I tried to be strong, make everyone proud of me, but I couldn’t. I’m so sorry,” he finished, turning his head into his brother’s side in shame.

“Elrohir, lad…” began Glorfindel while Elladan said, “Ro, it’s all right.”

“NO!” shouted Elrohir as he turned his head back to look at them. “It’s not all right. I shamed you all. I tried not to, but I did. I went into the cave room without a fuss. Really. And I tried not to trouble anyone. I tried. But then they came. I ignored them at first. Pretended they weren’t there. But the man brought food and then they wouldn’t leave me alone. I threw it away from me, and they went after it, but when it was gone, they came back. I threw the torch at them, but it only scared them away for awhile. I asked the man to let me out, but…but I was wrong to ask for he struck me and struck me to make me be still. And when I woke up, they were there…on me. At my feet, on my legs, on my…my neck. I…I…then I……when he came back I begged him to let me out. I know it was weak, but I couldn’t…I didn’t…I….”.

Nearly hyperventilating, Elrohir twisted in his brother’s arms until his head was again buried in Elladan’s embrace.

Elladan gripped his twin in a fierce, protective hold. That these men would force his brother to relive his personal nightmare left him practically choking with sorrow and rage and a hundred other emotions he couldn’t even name.

“Ro…,” the name broke from his lips, filled with anguish for his brother. “Please…” he didn’t even know what he was asking for, but Elladan was aching to reach out and take some of the hurt and sorrow into himself. “Please…don’t,” he whispered.

Elrohir heard, though, and shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said lowly, shame evident in his voice. “I dishonored myself, father, you, everyone. I tried to escape. I said I would remain with them but I tried to get away. I had to get out. But I failed even at that. They dragged me back and put a chain on me.” He closed his eyes and whispered, “I am so sorry.”

Tears finally spilled out of Elladan’s eyes when he looked at Glorfindel, who had been silently listening to the boys. “He shouldn’t be sorry,” he said, firm despite his tears. “And he shamed no one.”

“No!” shouted Elladan angrily. “He shouldn’t be sorry. He did nothing wrong. Didn’t you hear? They beat him senseless. He said they struck him to keep him quiet and then later he woke up. He asked to be moved and they wouldn’t listen—instead they beat him. And he woke up with rats crawling on him. It was only after that he tried to get away. And when he did, they chained him like an animal, leaving him no escape. Do you think they were gentle when they did that? And did you see his wrist? Clearly broken. How he must have suffered, rats crawling over him, unable to get away, not able to see…I’d wager he hasn’t even slept since he woke up with those filthy beasts on him. He wouldn’t. And now you think he shamed us? How could you?”

“Elladan! Stop!” shouted Glorfindel, finally cutting off the young elf’s tirade. “I do not believe he dishonored anyone.” He shook his head and added with utter conviction, “My dear child, never think that. No one would respond well to what he experienced. I do not blame him for his reaction. My word as a warrior.”

Elladan took a shuddering breath before giving Glorfindel a quick nod as he got himself back under control. He supposed maybe he had been a little overzealous in his defense of his brother. He was glad, though, to know he wasn’t alone in thinking Elrohir wasn’t to blame for his reaction to unexpectedly awful events.

The younger twin wasn’t feeling any better about things, however. The entire time Elladan and Glorfindel had been discussing him, Elrohir had lain quietly, shrouded in misery. He was aware enough of what the others were saying to understand his brother’s fierce defense of him and Glorfindel’s equally clear avowal of support. Nevertheless, it didn’t lessen his own sense of mortification. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t seen how he’d sacrificed his pride to ask the men to be moved. They hadn’t witnessed his descent into primitive reactions to the world around him when he’d awoken to a pounding headache, covered in scrapes and bruises, staring into the face of a rat, feeling more scampering over him. They hadn’t heard him begging the men to get him away from the foul creatures, finally screaming when they’d locked him away in the dark with them. They hadn’t felt how he’d slipped into a semi-aware state so he wouldn’t have to face his nightmare. They didn’t know.

He cradled his right wrist with his other hand and curled as tightly as he could into his brother’s protective shield. He feared their reaction once they understood how weak he’d been, but for now he couldn’t resist the sanctuary of his twin’s arms.

Elladan bent his head down and gave his brother another strong hug. He so very much wished he could take away the pain that was almost visibly rolling off Elrohir in waves.

“Glorfindel, what can I do to help him?” he asked anxiously when he raised his head.

The elder elf smiled in encouragement. “You are doing it,” he said. “You hold him while I tend to his wounds. Keep him feeling safe.”

The elder twin nodded, loosening his grip on his brother just slightly so Glorfindel could better assess the damage.

When the warrior tried to gently turn Elrohir over on his back, though, the young elf resisted. He was so tired. And he hurt everywhere. And he felt so much shame. And…and he was so tired. He wanted to be strong, but he just didn’t want to have to endure anything else. He didn’t want them to see how dirty he was. Or the welts where the men had beat him. Or the bites and scratches from the rats. Or where he’d hurt his wrist trying to pull away from the chains. Oh, his wrist! He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone manipulating the bones and touching it. To his utter mortification, his eyes filled with tears.

Glorfindel tried again, this time more insistently to turn him over and the young elf had no choice. He was soon on his back, head still in his brother’s lap, but feeling very exposed. He closed his eyes tightly so he didn’t have to see their faces. He didn’t want to see.

Afraid trying to speak would only end up with him further humiliating himself, Elrohir shook his head, shaking lose a couple of tears that trickled down his cheeks.

A gentle hand wiped them away, then caressed his head. “What is it? Tell me,” Glorfindel’s deep voice asked soothingly. “You did hear us, I trust. Lad, none of us blame you for reacting the way you have. You have nothing to fear. Please look at me.”

The eyes that reluctantly opened and looked at him were sad, but filled with such deep exhaustion that Glorfindel said, “Ah lad, you have no reserves left, do you? When did you last eat? Or sleep?”

Elrohir shook his head as if he couldn’t understand why Glorfindel even asked. “I couldn’t,” he said slowly, as if the mere act of speaking took more energy than he had. “I couldn’t let down my guard. There were too many.”

“I see,” said Glorfindel in a quiet voice, understanding far more than Elrohir’s words had conveyed. He could only imagine the boy, beaten, chained in the dark, refusing to sleep for nearly a week. Not only was he proud of him for enduring, but also relieved to realize that a serious lack of sleep was most likely to blame for Elrohir’s initial reaction to them. Elves could go several days with little rest, but at some point they had to sleep or suffer the consequences. Hallucinations, dizziness, nausea, mood swings and a host of other symptoms would not be unusual for an elf who hadn’t slept in nearly a week. With rest, he was hopeful the younger twin would overcome his ordeal and soon they could all put this whole distasteful affair behind them.

Hoping to impart some of his pride in the boy, he said, “You did well, Elrohir. You were strong to stay vigilant for so long. But now Elladan and I are here to take the next watch and you must rest. To that end, I will make you a tea from the leaves of the kalixa bush. It will numb the pain while we work and aid in your recovery…..Elrohir, are you listening to me?.........Elrohir, do you understand?”

Elrohir’s eyes had glazed partway through his words and Glorfindel realized the lack of sleep was even more severe than he’d thought. It looked like the boy wasn’t able to concentrate for more than a couple of minutes. He needed to rest and he needed it now.

Leaving the twins for just a moment, he walked over to the two men, who’d been watching the communications between the elves with interest. Although they couldn’t understand the words, the intense emotions came across clearly and even Pedar was starting to feel a touch of sympathy for the young elf who was so obviously upset.

Glorfindel still didn’t know and still didn’t care what the men were thinking. He asked for a cup of hot water and turned away without even waiting for them to acknowledge his request. While waiting for the water, he pulled out several items from the small pouch of herbal remedies he carried for just such occasions. He laid out a small circle of leather and then took a couple of dried kalixa leaves and crumbled them into the center of it. He then did the same to a leaf from the corvol tree before pulling the ends of the leather together and then pinching the small bag it formed in order to further crush the leaves. When the cup of hot water was ready, he opened up the leather and poured the ground leaves in, watching them turn the tea a light brown. When he judged it to be potent enough, he brought it over to where Elladan sat hugging his brother in his arms.

Elrohir knew enough about remedies from his father to know the instant he smelled the tea that Glorfindel had added more than just the kalixa leaves. His tired mind couldn’t piece together what it was, though. Then again, he didn’t care. In fact, if it would put him to sleep, even better. He didn’t want to hurt, didn’t want to feel, didn’t want to think. Without protest, when Glorfindel helped Elladan pull him higher into a sitting position, he allowed them to help him drink the bitter tea and before another thought passed, he gratefully fell into deep oblivion.

“…and then we tended Elrohir’s wounds, cleaned him up the best we could, bundled him up in a blanket, and left. I suppose he would have slept better in a bed, but we had all had our fill of the people of Brightfalls and wished to be away from them. We walked for quite awhile, Glorfindel of course carrying Elrohir, putting many miles between us and the village before we stopped for the night. Granted, the ground was quite wet, but we managed. We were so glad we did when Elrohir finally woke up and it was obvious how happy he was to not have to face those men again.”

Elladan, who’d lost himself in narrating the story, paused a moment to catch his breath. He’d been talking a long time and he was getting tired. After rubbing his eyes, he blinked a couple of times. Wait. When had the sun gone down? How long had he been talking anyway? Sitting up in alarm, he asked sharply, “Legolas, Estel, where is Elrohir? He should have been back long before now. How far away is the river?”

Both his companions rushed over to him and gently eased him back down, hoping he hadn’t injured himself by moving to abruptly.

“Peace, my friend,” said Legolas, putting a hand on Elladan’s shoulder to calm him. “Elrohir returned some time ago and is over by the fire, cooking your fish.”

Elladan twisted his head around until he saw his twin, sure enough kneeling by the fire with a row of fish dangling from a stick rigged up over the pit, apparently for once oblivious to Elladan’s alarm. The elder twin scoffed at himself. How could he have not noticed that heavenly smell of fish cooking? He turned back and sunk into his blankets. Good. Everyone was accounted for. That didn’t mean all was well, naturally, for he had no idea if Estel had learned anything, but he’d worry about that in a moment. Now that he was aware of the cooking fish, its mouth-watering scent wafted over to him and he realized just how hungry he was.

When Elladan’s stomach responded to that reminder by growling ferociously, Estel, who was still hovering near him after helping him lay down, snorted in amusement and said, “I think dinner’s just about done. Hold on a moment and I’ll bring you some.”

Elladan turned his head to look at his little brother. There was something different in Estel’s tone. Something…lighter. Was the boy finally coming around? He sure hoped so. He was really starting to hurt and his patience wasn’t infinite.

When Estel left to get his brother some dinner, Elladan’s eyes followed him as he joined Elrohir by the fire. Elladan couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t look like Estel was being hurtful and distant to Elrohir. Maybe things really were looking up…

A/N: Not much to say—sigh…just the same as always: I’m so sorry it’s been so long, thank you so very much if you’re still reading, hope you like it, etc. Only one more chapter to go. I WILL finish this (and then never post another story before it’s COMPLETELY written).

Waiting for his companions to finish preparing dinner, Elladan sank deeply into his bedding. Valar, he was tired! His injuries and lack of sleep were getting the better of him and his eyes slowly closed as he felt himself starting to drift. With an effort, he shook his head, trying to stay awake. He was afraid his hunger was going to lose out to fatigue if dinner wasn't presented soon. That would be a tragedy, he decided, since the light scent wafting over from the fire really did smell heavenly.

Despite his desires to the contrary, soon he was floating in a half-conscious, half-sleeping state. His breathing deepened and he felt the pull of sleep—another few moments and he would have been firmly ensnared by it—but then he caught a strong whiff of grilled fish that made his mouth water. Mmmm. It smelled like it was right in front of him.

"Don't tell me I went and caught the biggest, fattest fish in the river as promised, and you're not even going to stay awake to eat it," a teasing voice said.

Elladan's eyes popped open. He'd been expecting Estel to return with his food, but it was his twin who was kneeling beside him, smiling as he waved the dish he carried under Elladan's nose.

"And listen to you complain about it for the next century? Not likely," Elladan said, smirking as he put out his arm so his brother could pull him up. "Now help me up, you great troll."

Elrohir, favoring his bandaged right hand, put the plate he'd been carrying in his left hand down so he could gently pull his brother up, careful not to jostle Elladan's damaged ribs. He tucked a small pack behind Elladan's back to keep him propped up, then reached down and grabbed the plate, presenting it to his brother with a flourish.

"Take a look at this fellow here," he said with a smile. "You'll have to admit you've never seen a finer specimen, have you?"

"A veritable feast," agreed Elladan, pleasantly surprised to see it really was an exceptionally large fish that awaited him.

He took the offered plate, using the moment to quickly flick his eyes assessingly over his twin—his pleasure fading with what he saw. Elrohir sounded like he was back to usual, lighthearted self, but his eyes couldn't hide a dispirited weariness brought on by the events of the past few days. Clearly, his time by the river and talk with Estel hadn't resolved anything.

Elladan felt his innards twist with the realization his efforts thus far had failed, but he couldn't focus his tired thoughts on what, if anything, he should do next. What he did know, however, was that the smell of fish, that had moments before been making his mouth water, now made him queasy. He swallowed hard as he looked at his plate, careful not to let Elrohir see that his stomach churned at the thought of eating. Not for the world would he risk upsetting his brother by not eating the meal he'd prepared for him.

Praying he wouldn't gag, Elladan forced himself to pick up a bite and put it in his mouth.

"Ro!" he gasped, his stomach instantly settled. "What did you do? This is…this is wonderful!"

A broad smile lit Elrohir's face. "I'm pleased you like it. It's a new technique I've been meaning to try for some time…one which I may teach you if you promise to rest after you're done."

Elladan, forgetting worrisome brothers and bothersome injuries, practically inhaled Elrohir's incredible concoction. The twins were highly experienced with cooking in the wild, of course, but this was indescribable. He moaned with pleasure as he took another bite.

Elrohir laughed in genuine delight, feeling his heart lighten. It helped put everything in perspective to see his beloved twin, safe and happy. The past several days had been trying, but Elladan would be fine and it was time for him to stop brooding. He knew only with time and rest could he truly put everything behind him, but as he sat there, Elrohir began to finally acknowledge that his worry over Elladan and his own exhausted state had put him into an unnecessarily dark frame of mind. Yes, the long journey through the caves, the days without sleep, the endless worrying and searching, and of course encountering the rats would be troubling under any circumstances, but he wasn't usually one to dwell on the negative. The situation with Estel…well yes, that still hurt, but right here, right now, Elladan was fine and that's what he wanted to focus on.

"Since you've proven it isn't unpalatable, perhaps I should try some," he said with a grin, starting to rise.

Elladan, his mouth full, grabbed Elrohir's right arm to get his attention—he wanted more if there was enough. He pulled his hand back sharply when Elrohir hissed and jerked at his touch.

"Elrohir…" he said in surprise. He'd been careful to avoid touching Elrohir's bandaged hand—he'd not heard his arm was injured as well.

Elrohir had been trying to discretely protect his shoulder, hoping that by hiding it he could prevent his companions from asking pesky questions about how the injury occurred. And now that he'd started putting the last few days behind him, it seemed like an even better idea . The last thing he wanted to do was resurface the unpleasant memories by having to talk about things.

"Sorry. You surprised me," he said casually, trying to hide the stabbing pain that had flared up in his back and shoulder when Elladan pulled his arm. "It's just some bruises I picked up whilst playing hide-and-seek with you in the caves. Did you need something? Would you like more to eat while I'm getting myself some?"

Ignoring his brother's attempts to distract him, Elladan put aside his plate and sat up straighter. "Just some bruises" would hardly be noticed by a warrior of Elrohir's experience—even bad ones certainly wouldn't make him jerk away. And now that he was looking for it, he could tell that the grey tinge in Elrohir's face wasn't merely from fatigue, but from pain as well. What was his brother up to, trying to hide an injury? He scowled.

Elrohir shrugged his good shoulder, failing to keep the edge from his voice when he answered, "I said it's nothing. Really. My arm is fine."

But Elladan didn't need one more thing to worry about and wasn't in the mood to be placated. "Estel, Legolas, can you please come here?" he shouted.

The others had just sat down their own meal by the fire, but hurried over when they heard the tension in Elladan's voice.

"What happened to Elrohir?" Elladan demanded, pointing at his stiffly silent brother, who looked at him in outrage.

"I don't follow," said Legolas cautiously. Clearly something had upset the twins, but he wasn't sure what. "Are you speaking of his hand? You do recall we discussed it earlier and Estel wrapped it?"

Yes, of course he remembered sending Estel to dress Elrohir's hand. And though it was now fully dark, he'd have to be blind not to see the bandage. That's why he hadn't paid much attention when his brother had only used his left hand to give him food and help him up. Now he realized Elrohir had been using the excuse of the bandage to hide another injury. He wasn't in the mood for games.

"No. I'm speaking of his arm. His right arm. The one that's clearly injured, but he claims is fine. So I'm asking you what happened."

Elrohir was angry. One moment he was happy, shaking off the shadow of the past few days, and the next Elladan is in his face, accusing him of lying. Perhaps he hadn't told the whole truth, but he was bruised. And his arm was fine. Very well, he was prevaricating—it was his shoulder that was injured—but even that would truly be fine in no time. A few days of pampering it and it would be as good as new. There was no need for the sudden, unexpected attack and it infuriated him. What did it take to get a break around here?

"I told you it's fine," he snapped before Legolas could respond. "He wasn't even there when it happened."

"I admit nothing. I'm fine. It's fine. Everything is fine! Now leave me alone," he snarled, turning to walk away.

Elrohir whipped back. "And don't start on him. He wasn't there either. No one saw anything save a caveful of damned rats!"

He snapped his mouth shut with a click. Valar, being tired and angry sure made him stupid. Obviously Estel and Legolas had seen the rats in the cave, but he hadn't meant to bring them up. At all. And he didn't think they'd told Elladan how many there'd been. Now the questions would follow. The demands for details. Wanting to help him deal with everything when a few days of distance was all he needed.

He took a couple of steps back to Elladan's side and bent over and yanked the discarded plate off the ground. The warning to back off was clear in his voice when he said, "You want more fish? I'll get you more fish. Then you go to sleep. We are not discussing anything else."

Elladan, too, was angry. He was in pain. He was exhausted. He was tired of feeling responsible for ungrateful, pig-headed brothers . As Elrohir turned to go, he purposely grabbed his brother's right arm, pulling on it. He was horrified by the reaction he got.

With a cry, Elrohir dropped the plate and fell to one knee, clasping his right shoulder with his left hand. He half turned and hunched over to protect it, clenching his teeth to prevent any further sound from escaping.

Elladan, his own injuries forgotten, flew out of his blankets but then stopped, hovering over his twin without touching him.

"Elrohir…" he gasped. He hadn't meant to really hurt his brother. Well, maybe just enough to get him to admit he'd had another injury on his arm that needed tending. But he hadn't believed there was anything seriously wrong and he was appalled he'd hurt his twin.

Elrohir was grateful for the dark hair that curtained his face. It gave him a moment to compose himself and get the pain under control before he faced the others.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he straightened and turned. The others were like three frozen statues with identical open-mouthed expressions of shock, dismay, and indecision. Clearly they wanted to rush to his aid, but were afraid to approach him. They looked ridiculous and the absurdity of it all significantly reduced his anger.

"A little over the top as a demonstration, brother," he said, allowing only a touch of annoyance to color his voice. "But you do have a way of making your point. Very well, I admit I may have injured my shoulder."

If Elladan's head hadn't been pounding and his exhaustion hadn't seriously shortened his temper, his concern for Elrohir as well as shame for hurting him would have undoubtedly kept him from becoming angry again. As it was, a flash of anger rushed through him when Elrohir almost dismissively confirmed the injury—that moronic twin of his knew better. Not only was hiding an injury stupid, but it was essential in the wild that you could trust in your companion's capabilities. Not knowing that someone couldn't function at their normal levels could endanger the rest of the group. He muttered something highly uncomplimentary under his breath and then jerked his head toward the glow of the fire.

"Let's go over there," he said acerbically. "We can use the light to better see what damage you've done to yourself this time."

Elrohir almost refused. Elladan made it sound like he was an injury-prone simpleton who'd deliberately run about, slamming his shoulder into rocks. Only the knowledge that the others would never leave him alone until his shoulder had been looked at kept him from telling his brother just where he could shove his suggestion.

Legolas and Estel didn't move. Although both dearly loved the twins, they were also aware that when the pair of them were in a temper, it was best to avoid being a target. They puttered about for a few moments, pretending to be busy by smoothing out Elladan's bedding, until he called to them.

"Would it be too much to ask for some assistance over here?" the elder twin bellowed from across the camp.

"Coming," they responded in perfect unison. They both laughed at that and shared a quick look of understanding. So much for keeping out of the fray.

The two hurried over to the fire where Elladan had already lifted the back of Elrohir's tunic, trying to assess the damage but having a hard time with his bandaged, sprained wrist limiting his abilities.

Noting the arrival of the others, Elladan said with an edge in his tone, "The damage appears to be centered on his shoulder, right in this area." He nodded to the center of deep black bruise located in the middle of Elrohir's right shoulder.

Estel crouched down and gently tugged the tunic out of his brother's hand, lifting it up a bit higher so he could see better. Legolas peered over his shoulder and they all winced at the sight. Elrohir's whole back was a collage of multi-colored bruises, but the real problem was as Elladan had pointed out—amidst the bruising and swelling there was a small raised lump right in the middle of Elrohir's shoulder.

"You knew? And carried me for hours? Have you no brains at all? What were you thinking?" Elladan exploded, his voice getting louder and angrier with each question.

"It didn't hurt as much to begin with," Elrohir said defensively. "And I…aghh." He broke off abruptly when Elladan's exam touched a particularly painful spot.

"Serves you right," spat Elladan nastily. The idea that the fool carried him while injured made him furious. He prodded again, causing his brother to inhale swiftly.

"Stop hurting him!" demanded Estel, surprising everyone. Considering his earlier behavior towards his brother, he was an unlikely champion.

Elladan glared at his little brother. He shouldn't interfere. Besides, where was all this concern for Elrohir earlier?

"I need to examine him," he said waspishly. "Stay back unless you're going to help." He continued poking at the shoulder, trying to determine the extent of the damage. He couldn't believe Elrohir had been stupid enough to carry him when there were other alternatives.

Elrohir didn't respond. He was biting his lip hard, trying not to cry out. Was Elladan trying to hurt him?

Elladan, his head pounding from the concussion and lack of sleep, continued irrationally.

"What, you didn't trust him to take care of me? It had to be you? The hero? What exactly were you attempting to prove? That you don't need anyone else's help? That you're stronger than the rest of us? Don't bleed like the rest of us?"

Elrohir had had enough. He and his twin were two halves of a whole, but there were times when he couldn't stand to be around him. Like now, when Elladan was too tired and hurt and angry to think clearly and said whatever mean thing he could think of.

He abruptly batted away his twin's prodding, poking hand and pulled back, yanking his tunic down with his good hand.

"Leave Legolas out of it," he spat. "Trusting him has nothing to do with this. All I was trying to do was carry your ungrateful carcass back to safety. Remind me to leave your sorry hide behind next time."

"Don't," snarled Elrohir, cutting his friend off. "He says whatever he wants to when he's in this mood and I'll not have you defend him."

Fatigue and pain of his own making him clumsy, he shifted awkwardly to his feet. Forget it! Forget all of them. He'd go somewhere quiet and bind his own shoulder. He hissed when his graceless movements amplified the stabbing pain in his shoulder, but it didn't keep him from stalking away.

He tripped over the uneven ground and barely managed to keep from falling. He couldn't, however, prevent the jarring shock to his shoulder, and the pain radiated all the way down to his fingertips. He staggered, hunching over as he hugged his arm to his chest, squeezing it with his left hand.

Elrohir twisted away. "Leave me be, Estel," he said, the pain turning his voice hoarse.

He shifted away from his brother, thinking only of getting a quiet spot so he could think, but didn't notice the small pile of logs that had been left to feed the fire. His foot caught on one and once again he tripped. His left arm wheeled wildly and his feet danced in an ungainly fashion trying to keep his balance—his ungraceful actions normally would have provoked great teasing from his brothers, but amusement over his plight was the farthest things from their minds when he overbalanced and crashed to the ground.

At his scream of pain, his companions flew to him. The injured elf was curled on his right side, cursing violently in a choked voice.

"Ro?" Elladan questioned gently, his mercurial temper doused at the sight of his brother in clear agony.

Elrohir didn't appear to hear him as his colorful cursing continued unabated. His left hand was tightly clasping his right shoulder and he rocked slightly.

"Ro, let me help you, please?" Elladan asked, worried when he didn't get any response, not even a nasty order to go away.

Legolas knelt down in front of Elrohir and put his hand on his friend's left shoulder, hoping the touch would calm him. Elrohir seemed to be aware of the touch, for with it he cut off his litany of curses with a choked breath, though Legolas could feel his friend's body trembling.

"Elladan, Estel," Legolas said, taking charge. "We need to turn him on his back. Help me."

As carefully as he could he pushed against Elrohir's good shoulder, the other two pulling at his waist and legs.

When they got him on his back, they saw what had caused their brother and friend to give such forceful voice to his pain. His left hand was covered in blood and an ever-widening circle of red on his tunic glistened wetly in the firelight. The impact of falling on his shoulder had completely broken the fractured bone and driven one jagged end through muscle and skin—what had been a relatively simple injury was now far more serious.

Elladan sat back in the dirt with a thump, spent. Even considering the vast strength of elves, he had overextended himself for far too long and the shock of this latest setback left him with no resources to deal with it. His mind blanked as he tried to think of what to do next.

Fortunately, his companions were not in a similar state. Seeing Elladan's washed out, disorientated look, Legolas continued to direct their efforts.

"Estel, we need to get that bleeding stopped. I know it'll hurt, but see what you can do to put pressure on it while I get things ready."

He paused when the dark haired elf didn't react. His poor friend was sitting there in an exhausted stupor. With a start, Legolas also remembered that Elladan most likely was also feeling something of what his twin was experiencing, as during times of great stress their connection strengthened.

Kneeling in front of his friend, he took a hold of both shoulders. What Elladan really needed was to lay down and get some long overdue rest, but first they needed his help with Elrohir.

"Elladan, Elrohir needs you. Estel and I will tend to his wound, but you must keep him focused and calm. Can you do that?"

Elladan blinked and then after a deep breath, seemed to come back to the present. He looked up at Legolas and nodded wearily.

"Aye." He shook his head and said in a firmer voice, "Aye, naturally. Of course. "

His movements were sluggish, but he managed to scoot to his brother's left side, leaving the injured side for Estel and Legolas, and reached out, cupping Elrohir's cheek and chin with his right hand.

His twin didn't acknowledge him. His eyes were shut tight and his face white with pain. Elladan could feel how tightly he clenched his jaw, obviously keeping himself from shouting.

A small bowl with water and a clean cloth appeared in front of Elladan and he looked up gratefully at Legolas, but the other elf had already turned around and was fetching more materials they'd need to treat Elrohir's shoulder.

Elladan dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it out, then gently wiped his brother's face and neck. He continued to do so as he spoke lowly to Elrohir, waiting for his voice to break through the pain-filled fog that consumed his twin.

After awhile, Elrohir's eyes opened and he blinked dazedly until he focused on his brother. He swallowed hard and said in a choked voice, "Valar…hurts."

Elladan's eyes involuntarily flicked to where Estel was doing his best to press down on the shoulder wound, trying to stem the bleeding without making the injury worse. A good inch or so of jagged bone stuck out of the shoulder and Elladan swallowed convulsively. He'd been fighting the nausea caused by his concussion, but seeing the blood-covered white bone nearly sent him over the edge. He'd seen countless injuries as a warrior, but this was a nasty one and was made worse by the fact that it was his twin who lay shivering with pain.

"Shhh…I know," he soothed, forcing down his reaction so he could comfort his brother. "Just lie still. We'll take care of it."

"Guess that….that wasn't the brightest thing I've done," he gasped. "I should…aaah," he broke off, trying to twist away from where his little brother was pushing harder, accidentally causing the sharp bone to cut deeper into the damaged tissue while he tried unsuccessfully to stem the blood that now puddled under Elrohir's shoulder.

Estel hated hurting his brother, but kept the pressure firmly against the wound and used his other hand to try to hold Elrohir down. When Elrohir closed his eyes again and continued to writhe, desperation crept over Estel.

"Legolas," he shouted, unable to resist calling, even knowing the elf wasn't dawdling. It was urgent they pull the bone back into alignment and pack the wound with an herbal paste to help staunch the bleeding. Elrohir was losing too much blood. Something to help with the pain would also be welcome. He wanted to put Elrohir into such a deep sleep that he wouldn't feel anything they were about to do.

Although only minutes passed, it seemed like hours to Estel as he knelt over Elrohir, his hands coated in the blood that continued to flow. In the background, he vaguely heard Elladan speaking calmly, urging their brother to be still, to relax. He didn't know how Elladan could sound so composed—he himself was ready to scream by the time Legolas finally dropped to the ground, carefully placing several bowls and a pile of cloth by their side.

"Help me bring his head up," he said as he reached down and carefully drew the injured elf toward him.

Estel continued to put pressure on the wound while Elladan shifted so he could put his twin's head in his lap. Once Elrohir was situated, Legolas picked up a cup and held it to his mouth.

Elrohir's eyes were still shut, but he heard the quiet command and did as told without fuss. Trusting them to do whatever was needed, he gave himself completely into the care of the others. His reward was the potent brew's immediate effect. Elrohir experienced a fragmentary moment of clarity when, to his utter relief, the pain disappeared. Then within a blink of an eye, he slumped into blessed oblivion.

With Elrohir beyond the reach of pain, Elladan's last burst of energy was extinguished. His head drooped, brushing against his twin's as he leaned forward, Elrohir's unconscious body the only thing keeping him from falling over.

He didn't have the strength to protest when Legolas gently pulled Elrohir away and Estel, letting off of the pressure for a moment, put his arms around his eldest brother.

Estel tugged the unresisting elf to where Legolas had thoughtfully brought over his own bedding and laid him down. When Elladan's worried face turned instinctively to his twin, Estel tenderly pushed it back and smoothed his forehead.

The young teenager grimaced when he saw he'd just left a bloody streak across Elladan's face, but then shrugged it off when he acknowledged his brother wouldn't care.

Elladan flicked his eyes worriedly once more to his twin, but then turned back to Estel and nodded. As much as he wanted to see to Elrohir's needs, for once he had to acknowledge he didn't have the strength. With a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and within an instant, he dropped into a deep sleep.

With both twins mercifully sleeping, Legolas and Estel were able to focus completely on their task of doing what they could to repair the damage to Elrohir's shoulder.

Although Legolas was far more experienced with treating warriors' wounds, Estel had studied diligently at his elven father's side for years and was easily able to assist in the unpleasant task of tending to the ugly wound. The two worked as a perfect team, almost without need for words, as they cleaned the injury, realigned the bone, dressed the wound with a complex paste of ground herbs and tree sap, stitched together the roughly torn skin, and then bound everything tightly.

It was deep into the night when Legolas and Estel sat back, their task complete. It had been hard work, but they had finally stopped the bleeding and they were content that the muscle and bone would knit back together properly in time. Elrohir himself looked distinctly worse for the wear. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was so pale it took on a translucent quality. His breathing was shallow as well and his heart rate was still higher than normal, but both were partly as a result of the powerful blend of herbs Legolas had put into the tea. All that aside, however, Elrohir looked to be beyond pain at the moment and they were grateful it would allow him to stay in a deep, healing sleep.

"Nicely done. Your father has taught you well," said Legolas approvingly, smiling at the young human who'd turned out to be a surprisingly skilled healer. He'd had his doubts about the boy's maturity earlier, but the lad had come through when it counted—it was with distinct pleasure that he realized this young man had the makings of a great friend in the years ahead.

Estel smiled back. "Thank you. Although I couldn't imagine doing this without you."

Legolas considered. "It would not have wished to do it alone either," he acknowledged. "These kinds of injuries can be tricky and are difficult to tend with just one set of hands."

He smiled again at the young man and then began to pull together the blood-covered supplies they'd been using. Estel wordlessly helped him and within short order, they had the area clean and tidy once more.

Both too wound up to sleep, the two sat down by the fire, sharing quiet companionship as they tried to relax from the tension of the past several hours.

The petulant tone in his voice made Legolas laugh. One minute Estel was a mature, capable young man, and the next the little boy came out again. Ah well, such is the nature of the adolescent.

Legolas looked over to where the cold remains of what was to be their dinner lay discarded in the dirt and sighed. He'd only had a few bites of Elrohir's catch, but what he'd tasted had been wonderful. It was a shame so many hours had passed and it was no longer edible. He and Estel would have to make do with the provisions they had in their packs—a poor substitute for fresh fish.

"Aye," he said. "We should eat something and then you can try to get some sleep. I'll take the watch tonight."

"I can stand watch as well," protested Estel, but more out of habit than anything else. In truth, he was worn out and would welcome several uninterrupted hours of sleep.

"Nay," countered Legolas. "I am rested enough and it will be no hardship for me. You need to be fully awake to help me care for your brothers tomorrow. I expect neither of them will be in very good moods once they wake and we will need to have our wits about us to keep them properly resting."

Estel nodded absently. Legolas was right, after all. He walked over to his pack and withdrew some rations. Not anywhere close to being as tasty as the fish, but it would fill the void in his stomach and maybe he could catch some more fish tomorrow. He handed some of the food to Legolas, then wearily ate his own—it had been a long day.

When he'd finished and brushed away the crumbs, Estel looked uncertainly at his companion. He had something to say, but felt strangely shy.

"I just…well…I just want to apologize for earlier," began Estel hesitantly, but when Legolas sat up and looked at him encouragingly, he continued with more confidence.

"I am ashamed of how I acted earlier. I was wrong to judge Elrohir and…and I was wrong to try to drag you in to my foolishness. And for that I beg your pardon."

Even though Legolas had already decided to put aside Estel's earlier transgressions after his mature handling of his brothers' injuries, it still filled him with pleasure to see further evidence of the young man's innate goodness. He held out his hand in friendship, smiling when Estel clasped it firmly.

Estel smiled his thanks shyly and breathed a sigh of relief. One down, two to go. He had to apologize to his brothers as well, but it was nice to know that at least one person had forgiven his unconscionable behavior. And yes, after Elladan's last story he had come to the firm conclusion that he'd behaved atrociously.

Estel had found it easier to identify with the adolescent Elrohir's plight than the child's, and when he'd tried to imagine himself in similar circumstances—beaten, chained in the dark with rats biting at him—he knew he would have been left with scars to his psyche as well. In fact, on reflection he was proud of how Elrohir had gone right back into the narrow passage after the rats had attacked him, knowing the nasty beasts would still be there. It deeply shamed him to think how he'd childishly taunted his brother afterward, when he should have been supporting him—he wished there was some way he could make it up to him.

With a small sigh of regret, he looked at his sleeping brothers. For now, at least, there was nothing more to do.

He spent a few more minutes talking quietly to Legolas, making sure the elf knew to wake him if there was any change in his brothers' conditions, and then he laid down on his blanket. In a heartbeat, he joined them in much-deserved sleep.

A/N: No, this isn't the end of the story. I'd said I had only one chapter left, but got on a roll after the last one and had written almost the whole chapter--was only a couple of days from publishing it--when I lost it. All of it. Yes, I'd stupidly saved it on a memory stick (since I was using a couple of different computers) and accidently washed it, losing EVERYTHING I'd written. I'm not kidding. After trying unsuccessfully to recover the file, I tried instead to recreate it. I started back over again, but I was angry at losing it all and the chapter flew off into another direction, becoming this single scene where the twins became angry and got stupid. SIGH. Ah well. At least I was so mad that I wrote it pretty fast (for me). Sorry, but there's still one more chapter to go (and I promise…it will be the last one this time).

When Estel blinked his eyes open, it was midmorning the next day. He took a moment to stretch to help wake up properly—the previous night’s events had left him tense and restless, not allowing him to get a good night’s sleep.

His movement alerted Legolas that he was awake, and the blond elf walked lightly over to Estel.

“Good morning. Did you sleep at all?” he asked, noting the dark circles under the boy’s eyes.

Estel stretched again and pushed aside his blankets. He was still weary, but felt bad mentioning that to the elf who hadn’t slept at all.

“I’m rested enough, thank you,” he responded politely, sitting up and looking over to where the twins slept. “My brothers? Are they still sleeping?”

“Aye. Neither have moved all night. Why don’t you eat first, then you can take a closer look at them. I’ll have some breakfast for you in a moment.”

Estel smiled his thanks and with a deep yawn, stretched one last time before shuffling off into the woods to take care of a morning call of nature.

When he returned, he was presented with a hot cup of a sort of porridge. It smelled wonderful to the growing youth and he wolfed it down quickly so he could focus on his brothers.

Once fed, he joined the twins, noting without surprise both had their eyes closed. It was a sure sign they were far from recovering from their ordeals and he stood over the pair for a moment, studying each without touching.

Elrohir’s face was still too pale and he looked…somehow fragile…far from well, but at least he didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment. Also reassuring was the lack of fresh blood on the bandage covering his shoulder. Only a small spot had seeped through during the night, so for now it appeared to be no worse off.

Estel sighed as he saw how tightly they’d bound Elrohir’s right arm. It was pinned firmly to his chest, his right hand, still bandaged from the rat bite, curling near his left shoulder. This was done to ensure the shoulder bone could heal properly without being jarred, but Estel knew it would make things awkward for the elf for many days. Being limited thus would undoubtedly be annoying, but Estel finally shrugged aside his concerns…anything was better than seeing that jagged bone poking through the skin.

Turning his attention to his other brother, he noted Elladan’s condition was better as well. His left wrist was still bound tightly to support the sprain and another white bandage peeked out from the edge of Elladan’s tunic, showing the binding on his cracked ribs. The cut on his right arm was already beginning to close, though, and the tense lines that had marred Elladan’s forehead ever since his rescue from the cave were missing.

Satisfied his brothers needed nothing for the time being, Estel tiptoed back to the other side of camp and sat next to Legolas, the two talking quietly while patiently waiting for the twins to awaken in their own time.

The first to wake, just after noon, was Elladan, who groaned as he tried to move his stiff limbs. He started to rise, but Estel was by his side in a flash, happy to see one of his brothers finally up.

“How do you feel? Here, let me help you sit up. I am so glad to see you looking better. Are you hungry? Does anything hurt? Can I get you anything?”

Elladan blinked at the barrage of questions. Estel was bouncing like an over eager puppy, already using his youthful energy to pull Elladan up. It made the elf smile. He could have used a few moments of quiet to collect himself, but that desire paled beside the simple joy he took in Estel’s solicitous attention.

“I am well, Estel,” he said, pleased to find that was almost true. The long rest had done wonders for him and he reveled in the lack of pain in his head and the lessening of it everywhere else. The stiffness was already easing and he knew his injuries would be a distant memory soon enough. An empty feeling in his stomach, however, reminded him that the fish from the night before had not been nearly enough to make up for a lack of food for several days.

“If there is anything available for breakfast, however, I would be most grateful.” Elladan looked at the sky and amended, “Or rather, anything available for lunch? It appears I’ve slept through the morning.”

At the mention of his twin, Elladan twisted to see where Elrohir lay motionless, looking pale and ill even after hours of healing sleep. His deep worry from the night before had faded after his lengthy rest, but upon seeing his brother, it once again blossomed into an almost physical pain. It would be awhile before he could forget the hint he’d felt of his brother’s agony.

“He will be well in time,” answered Legolas from over Elladan’s shoulder. He’d joined the brothers and brought over a dish of stew he’d been cooking most of the morning. An unlucky rabbit had ventured too close to their camp and made for a welcome addition to their midday meal. Elladan was momentarily distracted when the scent caused his stomach to rumble, reminding him how hungry he was.

“That smells wonderful Legolas, thank you,” Elladan said, taking the dish offered to him. He started in on it immediately, but after just a couple of bites his attention drifted to his twin.

“Are you certain he is well? He looks so pale. Were there complications?” he asked, remembering the sickening sight of the bone sticking out of his brother’s shoulder.

“Nay. Nothing unexpected at least. It was an ugly wound, but rest assured it was properly tended.” Legolas put a hand on Estel’s shoulder and continued, “You’d be proud of your brother, Elladan. Estel is very knowledgeable in the healing arts and was of great assistance last night. Elrohir’s recovery will be in no small part due to his skill.”

Elladan’s eyes lit up hearing the praise for his younger brother. In elven years, the time he’d spent with Estel had been but the blink of an eye, but even so he found it hard to imagine life without his foster brother. The boy brought a light and joy to the family that had been greatly diminished ever since the death of their beloved Celebrian. He hoped Estel knew just how much he meant to them all.

“Then I greatly thank both of you, for clearly I would have been hard pressed to help him myself. Ada will be as proud of you as I am. You’ve done well.”

Estel smiled at his brother, appreciating his words more than he could say. But in his heart he couldn’t accept them. He hadn’t been planning to have this conversation so soon after Elladan woke up, but nor could he sit there and hear praise when his heart was full of remorse.

“Thank you Elladan. I treasure your words, for your regard is dear to me, but in light of my earlier behavior, I can’t accept your praise. What I said….I…” Estel drew in a deep breath. “What I said to Elrohir is indefensible, and I know I hurt him, something for which I cannot forgive myself. Moreover I was wrong. So wrong. He is not what I said.”

His face crumpled as he thought of the hateful barbs he’d flung at his brother. Words that, once spoken, could never be recalled—would Elrohir ever be able to forgive him?

Looking as always to his big brothers for help, he pleaded, “Elladan, please…how do I make it right?”

At that point, Legolas, feeling this was a conversation best left between the siblings, excused himself with a comment on desiring to hunt something for their supper, leaving Elladan to answer Estel.

Elladan felt a great weight lift as he listened to Estel’s plea. He wasn’t sure what had made the difference, but he was so relieved that the boy finally understood. Seeing the genuine regret, he was sure Estel would make things right with Elrohir.

Estel sank into his brother’s arms, careful not to squeeze too hard and damage the tender ribs, but grateful for the physical as well as implied support. Somehow, Elladan would find a way to help him fix things.

His head tucked into Elladan’s shoulder, Estel murmured, “He has every right to despise entering rat-filled caves—how he must hate me for mocking him.”

Pushing his brother away so he could look him in the eyes, Elladan protested, “Elrohir could never hate you, little one. He would sooner cut off his own arm and eat it for breakfast than even consider it.”

He shook his head, becoming serious when he added, “And your words cannot come close to the things he has said about himself a thousand times. He cannot abide how the vermin affect him, how they make him feel, how they force a reaction out of him he cannot control.” Changing tones he continued, “But that does not excuse your behavior. I am merely saying he would never think ill of you. Instead, your words only make him feel worse of himself.”

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?” grumbled Estel. “Didn’t work.”

Elladan huffed in amusement. “Nay. Although my intent is not to add to your burden, you do need to understand the consequences of your words and deeds. In this case, you have hurt our brother and need to make amends.”

“But how?” asked Estel, a definite whine in his voice. “Do I simply apologize? ‘I’m sorry I was an ignorant brat, Elrohir—too stupid to understand true bravery when it stared me in the face.’” He grimaced. “While I would gladly admit what a childish fool I’d been, what if it’s not sufficient? Deeds speak louder than words and I can’t think of any that would atone for my offensive, thoughtless words.”

He thought hard for a moment then lit up. “Perhaps it would help if I went with him into caves—seeking those with many rats. You’ve always told me I must face my fears to overcome them. If I stood by him until he felt safe…do you think that would show I accept his fears and do not judge them?” he added hopefully.

But Elladan was already shaking his head. “Do you not think he’d already done that? This is Elrohir we’re speaking of.”

He smiled sadly and added, “Nay, he tried that many years ago. Right after Brightfalls, in fact. Unlike his first reaction when he was a small child, Elrohir did not retreat into himself. Instead he was angry. Angry at the men. Angry at the rats. Angry at himself. He was determined to overcome what he saw as an unacceptable weakness and devised a solution just as you described—face his demons head on. For years…,” Elladan sniffed, “nay, for centuries, he dragged me into every hole in the ground we stumbled across. And when we were old enough to venture out on our own, he even specifically sought out those caves filled with vermin. It became like a game to him after awhile. He was convinced in time, if he faced enough of them, he could conquer his fears.”

When Elladan trailed off and didn’t continue, Estel prompted, “And? Did he tire of it? Did Ada stop him? What happened?”

The look Elladan gave his little brother reminded the young man just how old the twins really were. The grey eyes were filled with an ancient sadness that made Estel regret asking the question.

“Nay, no one stopped him. In fact, amongst our people we became renowned for our experience in caves.” He shook his head at the irony. “Despite how Elrohir feels about them, even now our advice is still sought on matters related to the nether world.”

“I believe he would have succeeded in time. Indeed, by the time we stopped, I could no longer tell if they bothered him or not. But it all changed in one day.” His voice cracked as he added, “The day we found our mother.”

Elladan’s throat closed. Even now, after all this time, he found it nearly impossible to revisit those memories.

He took a moment to compose himself and continued hoarsely, “You know the story of how she was taken by the orc—how we searched for her. When at last we found her, Elrohir got to her first. She’d been kept in a back chamber in a deep, winding cave and we had to fight past many orc to reach her. I was not long behind him, but it was too far—I wish with all my heart I could have reached her first, to somehow spare him. For it was he who found our mother, broken, chained, and on her leg was a rat gnawing…” Elladan choked and closed his eyes, unable to continue.

Estel was filled with horrified shock. He knew with complete certainty what Elladan couldn’t say. After fighting though countless orcs, doubtless exhausted and ill with worry, Elrohir had found his mother beaten and chained, being chewed on by a rat. It would have been a nightmare scene for anyone, but for one who’d known the same terror himself, it was unthinkable. And he’d mocked his brother for his reactions. Valar!

Estel abruptly stood and ran to the trees, stumbling to the ground before losing the contents of his stomach. He was sick. Sick at imagining the events of all those years ago, but even more for what he’d put Elrohir through in recent days. Knowing everything that Elrohir must have been reminded of when the rats had attacked him down in the cave, and the extraordinary courage it took to turn right around and face them again, it made his taunts even more unworthy, foul, and cruel. The shame of it reduced him to tears.

On his hands and knees, he sobbed as his stomach continued to heave, long after there was nothing left to expel. When at last it stopped, a damp cloth appeared in front of his face.

Turning his blotchy face up, Estel looked at the elven prince, not sure why he was surprised to see him there, but then remembering that Legolas had said he was going to hunt. It should have bothered him to have the elf find him in such a state, weeping and ill, but he didn’t really care. It didn’t matter why Legolas had returned or even that the elf had seen him. Pride was the farthest thing from his thoughts.

He gave Legolas a wan smile and took the cloth with a small nod. He was grateful to find its cool wetness did make him feel somewhat human again.

Then Estel turned to see Elladan, still sitting on his bedding, looking at him with dismay. It drove Estel to his feet. This was his fault and his fault only. Elladan was not to feel guilty for forcing an ugly truth on him—a truth he wouldn’t have needed to hear if he’d used the same kindness and consideration his brothers had always shown him.

He walked back to his brothers, holding his hand up and shaking his head when Elladan started to apologize.

“Don’t,” he said keeping his voice low, intensely aware of Elrohir still sleeping. “I deserved to hear that.” He shook his head in disgust. “More than I thought possible, I have wronged him.”

“I have no doubts on that. Our brother has a very generous heart. One that forgives easily.” He turned back to Estel, the smile fading, “It makes it easier to hurt him, though. I would hope you never forget again.”

He might have said more, but it was at that moment that Elrohir began to stir. He moaned softly, his forehead wrinkling in pain as he started to become more aware.

Elrohir blinked in confusion, he didn’t know where he was and why he hurt so badly.

Elrohir licked dry lips. Be still? Why? What? Fuzzy images crowded his thoughts. Searching caves for Elladan. His twin injured. Something about ropes and…a cliff? Maybe. And he carried Elladan somewhere. A long way. Relief. Yes. Elladan was safe. But…but… why was he lying on the ground and his brother up and about? He tried to shake his head and clear his thoughts, but didn’t have the energy. What? What was wrong with him?

Before he could become alarmed, Legolas was beside him with a cup and Estel was helping him raise his head to drink. It was blessedly cool and when he’d drank his full, he closed his eyes again with a sigh. What was he trying to remember again? Thoughts slipped from his grasp before he could form them. Then it didn’t matter. With another soft sigh, he stilled and within moments once again sank into a deep sleep.

Legolas helped Estel gently lay his friend back down and then the small group regarded the sleeping elf silently until Elladan spoke.

Legolas turned to Elladan. The elder twin was staring at his brother, assessing.

“The same as last night. Sergal leaves to ease the pain, mugau leaves to force sleep,” answered Legolas quietly.

Then with a start, Legolas suddenly realized what he’d done. Shaking his head at his own hasty actions, he continued with chagrin, “Elladan, I apologize. I didn’t believe he was healed enough to be awake, but I didn’t think—of course I should have consulted with you first.”

“What?” he asked, confusion obvious. Then he processed what Legolas was saying and snorted.

“Nay, I wasn’t questioning your actions, Legolas. You know I trust you to care for him, always. I only wished to know if he’d succumbed to sleep so quickly due to injuries or something he’d been given. I’m greatly relieved it was the latter.”

Legolas relaxed and gave an almost shy smile, appreciating the great compliment. He knew the twins considered him a dear friend, but it nonetheless delighted him to hear of the unequivocal trust Elladan had in him—the twins guarded each other with a fierce devotion and it warmed his heart to hear Elladan so easily leave Elrohir’s care in his hands.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, everyone enjoying the opportunity to relax and rest after the stress of the previous days. After all three partook of the stew Legolas had prepared, Elladan took a nap while Legolas and Estel used the down time to clean and repair their equipment. By early evening when Elladan awoke, the three were greatly refreshed.

“Just how much did you give him?” Elladan asked Legolas, who was kneeling beside the still sleeping Elrohir, conducting one of his periodic checks of his patient.

“Not an overly strong dose. I expect by now it is his own body keeping him asleep. Even without his injury and blood loss, he was exhausted.”

Elladan grimaced. “I know. I’m sorry I put him…nay, all of you…through everything. If only I hadn’t been careless those men would not have taken me.”

“I don’t believe that, Elladan,” he said, dropping down beside the elves. “You couldn’t have known what those idiots would do. It was just unfortunate you were caught up in their ill-conceived scheme.”

Elladan glanced at Estel and, after reflecting a moment, shrugged. “Perhaps. I still wish you hadn’t needed to journey through the caves to find me, but…” he sighed and looked at Elrohir, “…but I promise I won’t dwell on it. The only thing that will accomplish is remind our sleeping beauty here of things he’d rather not think about.”

“You know he is going to be an absolute beast when he awakens, don’t you?”

Estel frowned. “Why? I have seen him injured before and he bears up well enough. And he will have had a great deal of rest thanks to Legolas’ tea.”

Legolas laughed and answered for Elladan, “Aye, but therein lies the problem. The tea was essential to allow him a healing rest, but that little concoction has always left him in a remarkably foul humor. It doesn’t affect Elladan the same way…no one has never been able to determine why. I wish it hadn’t been necessary, but it is most effective for healing. You will see its unfortunate side effects soon enough, though.”

Estel shrugged philosophically. Dealing with a bad temper couldn’t compare with seeing his brother’s suffering the night before. Besides, he certainly owed Elrohir unlimited patience and consideration. If it helped the injured elf to vent his anger, he’d be a willing target.

“If he’s quarrelsome with me I won’t mind. I owe him that much and more. Although, it’s hard to imagine him angry,” he admitted. “It doesn’t suit his nature.”

Elladan rolled his eyes. He had a feeling Estel would have a hard time seeing their brother as anything but perfect for awhile to make up for his earlier negative thoughts. Ah well, he’d see soon enough that Elrohir could be as nasty as the next person when the occasion merited it.

He remarked, “Estel, while I would be the first to agree our brother is a kind and good natured soul, he can have a biting temper when provoked. And the particular combination of herbs he took causes everything to provoke him. Trust me—you wouldn’t believe the stories we could tell you.”

He turned to Legolas. “Do you remember the time he broke his leg during the battle with the trolls?”

Elladan looked at Estel and continued with a snicker. “We had to dose him in order to treat it, and when he woke, he was cursing everyone around him, refusing our aid...do you remember he threw Belder’s cup across the camp, startling the horses, when our unfortunate friend simply tried to give him a drink? I learned a number of creative curses that day, from both Elrohir and Belder.”

“Aye. And don’t forget the warg bite,” added Legolas, his eyes lit with merriment. “I was on the receiving end of several particularly nasty barbs myself after you treated him. If I hadn’t known the effects of the medicinal draught on him, I expect we would have had quite a serious row.” He laughed and added, “I confess now I found it amusing to see him so surly and cantankerous.”

Elladan smirked as he, too, remembered the scene. “Aye, that was memorable. As I recall some of your warriors were set to challenge him for his offenses until you stepped in. Of course, he’s had moments when his temper wasn’t brought on by reaction to anything but his own bad humor. I recall a time we were swimming and Ro slipped on the rocks and fell quite hard on his backside, scraping it.” He shook his head and grinned widely. “He certainly didn’t need anything to make his temper boil that day. Or when he took a misstep and spilled his wine on the head of a dwarven ambassador at a formal reception. He was mortified—and furious to be so—and impossible to be around for days. And then there was the time we were chasing a thief and he took a wrong turn and ended up falling headfirst into a pile of dung. It took him forever to shake off the foul mood…and the stench…after that. Of course…”

Elladan and Legolas turned in surprise to Estel, whose tone was anything but amused.

“Stop it!” he shouted angrily. “Stop mocking him. It isn’t right to poke fun when he isn’t able to defend himself.”

The furious tone caught Elladan off guard. He was just having a bit of fun…what was Estel getting worked up about? Once again the youngster was trying to defend Elrohir against him. It was absurd. He was about to tell his little brother to grow a sense of humor and mind his own affairs, when from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of where Elrohir slept, oblivious to everything around him. It gave him pause and forced him to look fully at his twin, seeing the shoulder swathed in bandages, the pale face marred by lines of pain, the dark circles under the eyes. It sobered Elladan instantly. His relief at being rescued, feeling more himself, and knowing that his twin would soon enough be well had caused him to behave thoughtlessly and let his tongue run away from him. Estel was right. It was unkind of him to belittle his twin behind his back.

“He’s lying there, hurt…hurt saving you, you know…and all you can do is talk of him as if he were a bumbling fool. How would you react if he was telling tales of events that caused you to lose your temper…when you weren’t able to comment on those events yourself? You can’t…”

Elladan held up his hand and interrupted, “Peace, Estel. I was just going to say you are right. You are right and I apologize.”

He dropped down beside their sleeping brother, looked up at Estel with an apologetic smile, and then turned back and gave Elrohir a light kiss on the forehead.

“I am sorry, brother. I do you a disservice. I do not mean to ridicule you.”

He tucked the blankets higher over the bare shoulders and then stood back up, chastened, and once more faced Estel.

“I apologize again. I meant only to forewarn you of the effects the brew will have on Elrohir. I know you are aware he will be uncomfortable due to his wounds, but I wanted you to understand he will also be edgy, short-tempered. Please don’t allow his mood to hurt you. He can be uncommonly harsh while his thoughts are ruled by the herbs.”

Mollified by Elladan’s genuine contrition, Estel’s expression slowly eased and finally he nodded. “I do appreciate the warning and won’t take anything he says to heart.” He gave his brother a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry, too, that I shouted. I…I just feel so bad for what he’s been through and for what I put him through. I still don’t know how to make it up to him.”

“You’ll find a way, I have no doubt. When the right time comes, so will the words.”

Several hours later when night fell and Elrohir still hadn’t stirred, his companions started to become concerned.

“I suppose it isn’t cause for great alarm,” responded Elladan slowly, frowning in thought. “But I did expect him up before now.”

“I shouldn’t be concerned as he doesn’t look to be in any distress. He’ll be even worse than usual when he awakens, though,” he sighed.

“Aye. We’ve found the herbs’ effects on his disposition are lessened if he drinks a great deal of water, but the time for that has long passed. Although he will be desperately thirsty when he awakens, water will do no more than quench his thirst. You will see him at his annoying best, I fear.” He shrugged. “Ah well, it cannot be helped. Clearly he needs the rest.”

Estel smiled. “In truth,” he said, “I find it amusing to think of Elrohir acting disagreeably. He’s usually so even-tempered that I’m looking forward to seeing this side of him.”

‘Then you’re a fool,’ thought Elladan, but out loud said, “Personally I’m grateful Elrohir rarely shows his temper. He can be quite unpleasant when he’s angry. You should have seen him after Brightfalls. As I’d mentioned earlier, he was bitterly upset and allowed those feelings to seep into his dealings with everyone. It’s fortunate he’s usually so pleasant, for otherwise our companions would not have tolerated his behavior, nor shown us such friendship and loyalty.”

“You mean the other novices? What did they do? Please tell me what happened,” Estel asked, as eager for a bedtime story involving his brothers as he’d been as a child.

“Yes, do tell,” said Legolas as joined the brothers, looking forward to a story himself. He was learning much new information about his long-time friends and was interested by the new insights into their characters.

Elladan smiled warmly, remembering their fellow novices who’d shown such generosity at even a young age. Some of them had fallen over the years, cut down by the dark enemy they all fought, but he and Elrohir could never forget any of their young companions.

“You realize we did not pass our final test,” Elladan explained. “Although there were mitigating circumstances, in the end we did not deliver the boar to the villagers. Thus, we failed and should have been forced to join the next year’s group.”

“Surely not!” exclaimed Legolas. “You could hardly be held responsible for the actions of that offensive boy and his dog.”

“Ah,” said Elladan mildly, “our training requirements are clear. Junior novices must fully complete all their trials in order to advance to the next ranks. Elrohir and I did not. Therefore, we should have been held back.”

“Did you not hear I said ‘should have been?’ By implication you may correctly infer we were not. And it was due to our companions. The training masters were clearly troubled by the need to hold us back and, quite honestly, I expect they were not looking forward to explaining the situation to our father. We heard several of them arguing amongst themselves and with Glorfindel, trying to find a way to prevent failing us. You see, in every failure there is always something a novice can learn, and indeed there were ways we could have still completed our task had we been more experienced. Our failure was mostly out of our hands, but it would not have been unjust to hold us back. Had we not been fighting, perhaps we could have come up with a better solution that would have allowed us to bring the boar to the village, or maybe once we’d arrived at Brightfalls, he and I would have worked together and offered to bring in another boar. At the very least, I should never have left Elrohir behind. At any rate, in the end the final decision was for our group to return home—and Elrohir and I would be forced to repeat the training.”

“Patience…I’m getting to that,” said Elladan with a grin. “The day we were to leave for our journey home, the other novices refused to go. They had talked amongst themselves, unbeknownst to us, and insisted on staying in the forest to allow us to retake the test. I still remember how shocked Elrohir and I were when they explained their refusal. We had been away from our homes for many months and had spoken often of reuniting with our families, eating home-cooked meals, sleeping in comfortable beds—and yet they were willing to put off those comforts for our sakes. Our companions did not begrudge the time it would take Elrohir to heal and for us to accomplish the task. They said they would rather wait for us, or if that were not possible they wished to also repeat the year. Such loyalty is unforgettable. I cannot understand why they would do such a thing. Elrohir and I had done nothing special to earn it.”

Legolas shook his head, amused at Elladan’s blindness when it came to others’ deep regard for the twins. Even as a child Legolas had seen the love and affection the elves of Imladris had for their young lords and was surprised the twins didn’t truly understand how deeply their people felt for them. Not only did their bright spirits draw others to them, but their undying sense of duty and honor—traits they held even as children—ensured even their young companions’ devotion to them. It was no wonder they were willing to make whatever sacrifice was required to help out their young lords.

“So the training masters allowed you to retake the test?” asked Estel, breaking in on Legolas’ thoughts.

“Aye,” acknowledged Elladan. “Not only was holding back an entire class unprecedented, but the masters were touched by the offered sacrifice of our companions. In honor of their loyalty and generosity of spirit, their request was granted and we were allowed to retake the test. We had to wait another week for Elrohir to heal, but in the end it was almost disappointingly easy—we went out and found another boar immediately, took it down like we’d been doing it for centuries, and were able to deliver it without trouble. In fact, we delayed our group’s return home by less than three weeks.”

“Did you deliver the boar to Brightfalls?” asked Estel. “I can’t imagine you wished to return there.”

“Certainly not,” agreed Elladan. “I expect we would have failed a second time if we’d returned. If you recall one of the objectives of the test was diplomacy and as I’ve mentioned, Elrohir was still quite angry at that point. He was so ill-tempered even I had trouble bearing his company. Nay, we went in another direction and fortunately found a small settlement with exceptionally nice and appreciative villagers. Even Elrohir, despite his mood, was gracious with them. I can picture the disaster if we’d returned to Brightfalls. I did not have kind thoughts of those people and was grateful not to see them again so soon.”

Elladan nodded. “Several months later we did see Headman Tober. He came to visit us, or rather, our parents. He was no doubt aware that living with the enmity of the elves was not in the best interests of his community. Also, I believe he was genuinely distressed over the events that occurred under his watch. I feel he was a good man, in his own way. He came to apologize in person, which cannot have been easy.”

Elladan looked at him, amusement brightening his features. “Not Ada. Not so you could tell, anyway. He was indeed unhappy with the men of Brightfalls, but I think he understood even good leaders can sometimes be undermined by others, so he did not blame Master Tober any more than his due. Nay, it was our mother who was out for blood. When we returned and she saw our cheery Elrohir so changed, so angry, she was furious. The look she gave Master Tober was one that would freeze a balrog…I will never forget it. Actually, I think it helped Elrohir to temper his own anger, for it shocked him to see our mother so upset. He started acting more like himself in order to make her happy, and after awhile he no longer had to pretend. He did not lose his anger at himself, I fear, but in time he was able to manage it with his game of ‘drag poor Elladan into every cave you can find.’”

Legolas grinned, knowing his friend would have cheerfully followed Elrohir into the very depths of Mordor if it helped him overcome his fears. The two could squabble endlessly at times, but in truth there was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other.

“I have never heard of Brightfalls, so I assume it has long since disappeared. Is that what happened to it, then?” he teased. “The Lady Celebrian crafted their downfall?”

Snorting at his friend’s jest, Elladan said, “Nay, in the end Master Tober was forgiven, especially since he’d already punished that vile man Pedar. He told us for every day Elrohir had been held, Pedar had been forced to spend a week under the same conditions—chained and trapped in the dark. And when he was released, he was dismissed from his position. He no longer had control over the storage caverns…no longer had control over any other living being. He remained in the village, as I understand, but was never again given power to abuse another.”

He continued, “Benny, the deceitful child, was also punished, although his punishment was not so effective. As we learned much later, his mother went behind Master Tober’s back and pampered the boy, negating the lessons he should have learned. And that is what directly impacted the fate of Brightfalls.”

“Benny grew up selfish and arrogant despite his father’s attempts to mold him into an honorable man. They grew farther apart as the boy turned into a man, with Benny blaming elves for his father’s disapproval rather than acknowledging his own faults. I don’t know why the people of Brightfalls were so shortsighted, but he was accepted as their leader after his father passed. It was that poor decision that eventually caused their downfall. When Benny was still a young man, a series of unlucky events—a poor summer crop, a harsh winter, and then flooding spring rains—severely depleted the villages’ food supplies. Our patrols offered help, but Benny hated elves and spurned our aid. He and his men attacked those who went to offer it, going so far as to threaten our people if ever we returned. Our warriors did not fear them, naturally, but Ada had no desire for further contact and sent no one else. By the next year, Brightfalls was gone. Our patrols later learned a good many of the villagers, weakened by lack of adequate food, had succumbed to illness. Then a band of marauders took advantage of the weakened people and stole everything left of value. After that, the remaining villagers left and Brightfalls fell into ruin. Such a waste.”

“I don’t know. Probably. He’s the kind of parasite that always finds a way to survive, regardless of the expense to others. Either way, we never heard from him again.”

Estel mused, “Ah well, he’s long gone by now at any rate. Some day you’ll have to show me where the village was.” He looked over at their still-sleeping brother and added, “Well, that is if Elrohir wouldn’t be bothered by it.”

“Nay. We’ve been through the area many times in the years since and it does not cause him any trouble. Of course, we don’t venture into the caves, but the rest of the area is quite lovely. You’d like it.” Elladan smiled and added, “Now, any other questions? Any other stories you wish to hear?”

Legolas stood and returned his smile. “I think my curiosity is satisfied for now,” he said. “And since it is getting quite late, I believe we should get some sleep. We don’t know what time Elrohir will finally awaken, but when he does, if he is as unhappy as I expect, we’ll all wish to be well-rested.”

The others, yawning at the reminder at how late it had become, readily agreed to his sensible suggestion and soon Elladan and Legolas were bedded down while Estel took the first watch.

It was on Elladan’s watch in the early dawn Elrohir finally woke. A light rustling drew Elladan to his brother’s side in an instant and he was there when Elrohir was really aware for the first time in over a day. As predicted, he was thirsty, in pain, and unbearably bad-tempered.

Elrohir blinked the sleep from his eyes and then glared at the figure hovering over him.

“I might have expected to find you lurking about,” he said testily. “Do you think you can back off?”

Although he’d known to expect it, Elladan sighed inwardly at the proof his brother would be in one of those tiresome moods. Knowing the cause made them easier to bear, but they were still tedious.

“I thought you might like something to drink,” he said quietly, hoping not to awaken the rest of the camp just yet.

Elrohir used his good arm to stiffly push himself to a sitting position, shouldering Elladan aside when his brother reached forward to help him.

When Elladan drew back, Elrohir added, “Well, are you going to give me something to drink or not?”

Without response, Elladan picked up the waterskin he’d set beside his brother and patiently handed it over. He fought the impulse to steady Elrohir when his twin had to use his unbound hand to take it, leaving him shaky with the effort of sitting up after lying on his back for so long. Elladan finally did put one supportive hand on his shoulder, however, when Elrohir started to sway dizzily as he drained the waterskin and tipped his head up to get the last drops in the bottom.

Elrohir dropped the waterskin and quickly put his hand back down to steady himself. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass. When he opened his eyes back up, Elladan saw the pain and frustration that would only add to Elrohir’s bad mood.

“You can let go,” Elrohir snapped peevishly, although he didn’t jerk his arm away, not confident of his own ability to keep himself upright.

Elladan held on to him until he was satisfied Elrohir wouldn’t tip over, and then released him with a small pat on the arm.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked mildly, then noted from his peripheral vision that their other companions were now awake and coming over. Ah well, so much for letting them sleep.

“Elrohir, you’re awake,” said Legolas, smiling as he dropped down beside the twins. “How are you feeling?”

“That’s a stupid question.” Elrohir snapped with a glare. “I was considering joining a hobbit jig followed by a warg hunt……how do you think I’m feeling?”

Legolas knew not to take offense. Instead he studied his friend with a critical eye and answered calmly, “Since you ask, if you were any paler we’d lose you in a snow bank, if the lines on your forehead are any indication, you are experiencing a fair amount of pain but are feeling a touch nauseous and are afraid any more herbs will upset your stomach, the morning air is chilly on your bare skin but you aren’t able to put the blanket over yourself and aren’t willing to ask for help, and…and I’m guessing you’re wanting nothing more than to lie back down but another pressing need is keeping you from doing so and you’re not sure how to take care of it.”

Elladan hastily bit his lower lip, desperately not trying to snicker at Elrohir’s offended expression. Obviously Legolas’ unexpected, matter-of-fact recitation hit the nail on the head and his twin was unable to come up with a suitable response. The younger twin opened his mouth a couple of times without saying anything and then finally snapped it shut, settling on directing an evil glare at Legolas.

Estel, who was watching everything with wordless fascination, brought over his own blanket and carefully draped it over Elrohir’s shoulders then stepped back. He tensed, waiting for his brother to snap at him, but Elrohir simply shot him a glance and then turned back to the other elves.

“Fine,” he admitted with a hiss. “I need to attend to some personal business. But I don’t need you holding my hand…or anything else…so leave me be.”

He clumsily got onto his knees and then shakily started to rise. “Get back!” he snarled when both elves started forward to help him. “Either I go in the bushes or take care of business right here. I assume you’d prefer the bushes.”

“Elrohir, let us help you,” Elladan said patiently, taking a hold of his brother’s arm to steady him as he fully stood. “If you fall again you could do serious damage to your shoulder.”

“Really?” said Elrohir sarcastically. “And I was thinking another tumble would be amusing.”

When Elladan didn’t respond, but also didn’t remove his hand, Elrohir jerked away angrily, keeping his footing by some miracle.

“I do not need you flapping about like some hen guarding her chicks,” he hissed furiously, his tone clearly indicating how dangerously close he was to exploding.

Elladan, knowing he would only make things worse by insisting on helping when his brother was like this, backed off with his hands raised in surrender.

“All right. Very well. You go do what you need to alone. Just…” he stopped abruptly. Telling Elrohir to be careful would only set him off.

When Elrohir stalked unsteadily away into the nearby brush, his three companions watched him go, ready to rush forward to help if needed, but holding back for now.

“Just how will he manage with one hand bound?” asked Estel tentatively, speaking for the first time since his brother awoke.

Elladan, still staring at the spot where his twin had disappeared into the woods, answered, “He’ll manage…or he won’t. If you want to go check on him, be my guest.”

Estel shook his head rapidly and said emphatically, “Are you serious?! No thank you. He’s…very different like this.”

“We did warn you, you know,” he said with a faint smile for his little brother. “And so far he hasn’t been nearly as offensive as I expected.”

Estel grimaced and looked to where his brother had disappeared into the trees. He’d been wrong. It wasn’t funny seeing Elrohir angry. It wasn’t funny at all.

Elrohir took so long that the others were considering going after him when he finally returned. Obviously, things had not gone well. The ties holding up his trousers were now tangled in an unrecognizable, jumbled knot, Estel’s blanket was missing, and a new set of scratches decorated his face and left forearm. If the expression on his face was any indication, he was beyond frustrated and had clearly reached the end of his endurance.

He fell, more than sat back on his bedding, unable to prevent a gasp when the jarring thump caused his shoulder to explode in pain

Elladan, seemingly magically at his side, once more caught him before he could fall.

Avoiding any kind of ‘I told you so,’ the elder twin gently steadied his brother.

“What happened to the blanket?” he asked, trying to distract Elrohir from his shoulder.

It appeared to work, for Elrohir straightened his hunched shoulders and after taking a deep breath, gestured with his head and snarled, “Back there. Caught on some thorns. I don’t know what witless fool decided to make camp in a thicket of brambles.”

Foregoing the opportunity to point out that Elrohir had been the one to stop at this site—not to mention that the woods surrounding them were relatively free from undergrowth—Elladan responded as if they were talking calmly about pleasantries, “I see. I’ll fetch it in a moment. Would you like anything else in the meantime?”

Elladan felt a pang of sympathy. Elrohir had snarled the words, but Elladan heard the real need in his twin’s voice and could feel the muscles trembling as Elrohir kept himself upright. He knew his brother was aching to lie back, but he couldn’t allow that just yet.

“Elrohir,” said Elladan, still keeping his tone even and calm, “I’m afraid you’ll have to bear up just a bit longer. We’ve held off changing your bandage while you were sleeping, but it really must be done now before you can rest.”

Elrohir glowered and slapped Elladan’s hand away when he reached for the end of the bandage.

“Leave it be. And stop hovering. I don’t need an overbearing oaf fussing over me. Especially when it’s your fault this happened in the first place.”

Elladan didn’t even blink at his brother’s provocation. Instead, he said mildly, “Be that as it may, your bandage needs changing. So sit still and I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Elrohir clenched his teeth together. A small part of him knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to keep arguing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” he pushed. “What? No one else is good enough to take care of things while you’re around?”

Calmly unwrapping the bandage binding Elrohir’s shoulder, Elladan said, “On the contrary, I know Legolas and Estel would do a fine job, but I want take care of you. You are very dear to me, you know, and all I wish to do is help you feel better.”

That caused the cranky elf to pause. Despite his foul mood, Elrohir couldn’t bring himself to respond nastily to the genuine caring in his twin’s voice. He knew he was being boorish and for a moment, he was ashamed.

It was enough. Elladan saw in a quick glance a hint of remorse in Elrohir’s eyes before the younger twin once again scowled and lapsed into silence.

Elladan smiled softly and allowed himself to run a light hand over his twin’s head. Any greater sign of affection would be angrily rebuffed, but he wanted to somehow recognize that he saw a glimpse of his kind brother behind the mask. Besides, he did want to be the one taking care of this growling creature who vaguely resembled his brother. Not only did he truly want to ease his suffering, but he also preferred being the target of Elrohir’s anger, shielding others from it. Through past experience he knew once Elrohir regained control, he would be thoroughly embarrassed by his behavior. In these situations, protecting others from his brother’s tongue would also protect Elrohir from himself.

Elrohir managed to keep his temper under control until the last layer of bandages needed to come off. The blood had dried, binding cloth to skin, so when Elladan began to gently ease it off, it tugged on the wound.

“Do you have to be so rough?” Elrohir spat, the words exploding out of him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Foolish? Me? You know I’d be fine if it wasn’t for you—this is all your fault, after all. First because I had to follow you into that stupid cave and then here in camp. Maybe you didn’t like being the weak one once we found you. Is that it? You needed someone else to be worse off so you could be the strong one? So you drove me away!”

Elladan paused—that jab struck a little close. He knew he’d been bad tempered the first time he’d tried to tend to Elrohir’s shoulder and it was true—he hadn’t been gentle. And it was also true Elrohir fell while trying to get away from his own verbal barbs.

With genuine regret, he said, “Elrohir, I am sorry…very sorry I was too rough earlier. And sorry I said some harsh things. But I am trying to be careful now. So please bear with me.”

“Elladan, would you like me to finish?” said Legolas, who along with Estel had joined Elladan on the ground. After listening to the conversation long enough, he decided to finally break in, unwilling to sit by while Elrohir badgered his brother further.

“Oh, of course, now it’s Legolas the peacemaker,” said Elrohir nastily, “sticking his nose where it isn’t wanted as usual. Don’t you ever tire of interfering in other people’s affairs? I don’t need your help.”

“Ro, that’s enough,” admonished Elladan mildly, once more trying to carefully finish pulling off the rest of the bandage.

“Stop telling me what to do! Leave off!” shouted Elrohir. Unfortunately, at the same time he jerked back, ripping off the rest of the bandage that Elladan held in his hand and violently jarring his broken shoulder. He cried out at the unexpected pain and nearly fell, saved only by Legolas’ strong grip catching him before he could do more damage.

“It’s all right, Elrohir. I have you. Just lean on me while Elladan finishes,” said Legolas sympathetically, holding Elrohir steady and wishing he could do more to calm his upset and hurting friend, but knowing nothing would settle him until the drugs were out of his system.

Elrohir made a halfhearted protest by turning his head away from the others, but then surprisingly did as he was bid without arguing. Legolas realized why he was being so compliant when Elrohir sank heavily into his supporting arms—the dark haired elf was shaking with fatigue and pain and plainly needed help just to stay upright.

Worried eyes sought Elladan’s, but the elder twin wasn’t paying attention to his friend. Instead, he was gently examining the wound on his brother’s shoulder. It was healing as well as could be expected, but still looked raw and painful.

He patted his brother’s arm. “Just a bit longer and we’ll have you fixed right up.”

“Do not patronize me. I am not a child,” said Elrohir choked, still looking away from the others. They could hear in his shaky response that he had reached the absolute end of his strength, a hint of angry and frustrated tears roughing his voice.

Elladan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again and continued his ministrations. He’d much rather deal with a furious and angry Elrohir than when his brother became emotionally overwrought—afterwards when he was himself again, invariably it would only add to his mortification. Elladan couldn’t wait until this whole stupid mess was behind them.

Fortunately, Elrohir’s latest upset appeared to sap the rest of his strength, so Elladan was able to quickly finish cleaning and redressing the wound without further interruptions. He then gestured to Legolas and between the two of them, they eased the injured elf down.

While they were finishing, Estel took a few moments to retrieve his blanket from the woods, so when Elrohir was settled, he shook it out and laid it over him. He paused a moment afterwards, wanting to say something to his brother—he’d been a silent observer the whole time Elrohir had been awake and he felt he needed to somehow express his own concern. The others had helped tend to him, but all he’d done was bring a blanket. He knelt by Elrohir’s side, but then stopped himself before he spoke. One look at the grey, exhausted face and he kept silent. Now wasn’t the time. He tugged the blanket straight instead and then sat back to keep watch over his brother as the elf quietly fell back asleep.

Several hours later, just after midday, a soft sound heralded Elrohir’s return to the land of the living.

Estel, the only one currently in the camp, came over and knelt beside his brother at the first movement. He held his breath as he saw Elrohir’s eyes open and slowly look around, finally landing on him. He was glad to see his brother conscious, but was nervous about being the target of his sharp tongue.

Bracing himself mentally for an attack, Estel regarded his brother warily, but when Elrohir closed his eyes and moaned Elladan’s name in obvious pain, he quickly forgot any concerns for himself.

“Elladan is not here right now,” he said, gently touching his uninjured shoulder. “He and Legolas are hunting, but I’m here. Be still for just a moment and I’ll get you something for your shoulder.

For a moment, Estel wasn’t sure his brother had heard him, but then Elrohir said tightly, “No. Head.”

Estel grimaced. Elladan had mentioned that on rare occasions the drugs had an additional unpleasant side effect and Elrohir awoke with a mind-shattering headache. He’d hoped they’d avoid it this time, but luck really hadn’t been on their side recently. Still, Estel was glad he’d been warned so at least it was something he was ready to address.

With a feather-light touch to his brother’s cheek, Estel said very quietly, “I have something to help with that as well. Just hold on…I won’t be but a moment.”

He rushed over to the fire where he had some hot water simmering, just waiting for Elrohir to waken. He quickly selected the ingredients Elladan had set aside and, true to his word, it was only a matter of moments before he was back by his brother’s side, the fresh scent of steaming herbs wafting from the cup he carried.

“Here now, let me help you,” he murmured, setting the cup aside while he carefully raised his brother’s head and put some folded blankets under it. He was alarmed when just that movement elicited a small whimper of pain—he’d seen Elrohir stoically bear up under all kinds of injuries, so he could only imagine the pain he was experiencing to compel him to give it voice.

“Shhh…” he soothed. “It will be better soon. We’ll start with a sip here. That’s right. Now a bit more.”

He slowly coaxed his brother to drink the entire cup, then set it down and gently wiped a couple of drips off his cheek. The healer in Estel was satisfied that the drugs would work soon enough, but the brother in him couldn’t resist reaching out and lightly took the hand trapped by the bindings of his injured right shoulder. For an indeterminate amount of time, he sat there, stroking Elrohir’s palm with his thumb and murmuring soft reassurances until he saw the tension in Elrohir’s body start to loosen.

More long minutes passed before Elrohir let out a long sigh, rubbed his free hand over tired eyes, and then squinted up at his human brother.

Estel looked at him and smiled, happy to see the deep lines of pain softened, but when Elrohir didn’t say anything, the young man became fidgety and finally asked, “What?”

Estel blinked. With everything that had been happening, he hadn’t thought of what he would say to Elrohir and for a moment he panicked—fixing things with his brother was too important for hasty, unplanned words.

In a voice striped of strength, the elf elaborated, “When I wake feeling like there are several dozen axes being driven into my head—and to my recollection I faced no axe-wielding foes—it means I was given a dose of sergal and murgau, and I know the consequences. Without fail I’ve always seriously offended someone while under its influence. Sometimes I don’t even recall what I’ve said. You don’t seem angry with me, but if I did behave badly, please know how sorry I am.”

Estel drew in a deep breath as he rearranged his thoughts. Lightheaded with relief that he didn’t have to address his own behavior just yet, Estel smiled at his kindhearted brother. Yes, this was the Elrohir he knew…the one whose first thoughts after being injured and drugged senseless were to make amends for any offenses he might have given.

“Nay, you weren’t awake long and didn’t address me at all. You have nothing to apologize to me for,” he reassured.

Elrohir looked as worn as an old dish rag, but the relief in his eyes still shone through.

“At least that’s something, but I do need to apologize to the others, I imagine?”

Seeing reluctant confirmation in Estel’s face, Elrohir sighed in tired resignation, “Damn these herbs. I am so shamefully weak-willed when it comes to them—I cannot bear it. If I am capable of coherent thought next time, I will refuse them.”

He closed his eyes wearily and added, “Was I completely offensive? Just tell me. What did I say? Was it unforgiveable?” With his eyes still closed, he laughed without humor and asked, “Is that why they’re not here? They had enough and left camp to get away from my mouth?”

Estel was a little surprised that Elrohir sounded genuinely concerned and it made him realize just how worn out physically and mentally his brother must be to consider such a ridiculous idea. He couldn’t imagine anything that would drive Elladan away from his injured twin—certainly not a few snarky comments.

He laughed and said, “Don’t be foolish. You didn’t chase anyone away. They merely went to find some food. I mentioned that when you first awoke, you know. Nay, they took all you said with good enough humor—and Elladan even said you were better than he’d expected.”

Elrohir twisted his mouth wryly. “Small consolation when I have to count on the goodness in others’ hearts to forgive my odious behavior. How I despise not being in control.”

His eyes darted to Estel. He didn’t mean to give boy such an obvious opening to comment on his loss of control in the caves. He knew it would eventually have to be addressed, but for now he simply had no reserves and wasn’t up to dealing with any of it.

But either Estel didn’t pick up on the slip or chose to be discreet, for thankfully he changed the subject.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked. “I’ve been saving some berries for you.”

Elrohir’s face lightened in gratitude, for both the change of subject and the thought of eating. He was anxious to feel normal again and a meal would certainly give him more energy.

“The berries sound wonderful,” he said, then added truthfully, “but my stomach is feeling somewhat unsettled. Do we have anything milder?”

With a slight frown Estel considered quickly. “Well, I confess there isn’t much other than the berries. That’s why the others went to forage. I suppose we may have a few crumbs of lembas left, although I’m afraid it may be ‘crumbs’ quite literally.”

“That would be fine. Just a little something is all I need,” said Elrohir, fighting to keep his eyes from sliding shut as exhaustion once again washed over him.

Estel hurried over to their packs and pulled out the last of the lembas. It was almost gone, but he was pleased to see there were a couple bite-size pieces left. Handing them to Elrohir, he also brought a skin of water and sat quietly while his brother finished his light snack.

“That was perfect,” said Elrohir as he put down the water skin. “I do feel better having something inside me—it’s quite settled my stomach and, while I don’t feel up to a race through the woods just yet, I think I can manage to stay awake until the others return. Now we’ll just wait to see what Elladan and Legolas bring back and I can have a second meal for dessert.” He laughed, “Goodness…I sound just like a hobbit. Next thing you know I’ll start growing large, hairy feet.”

Estel grinned at his brother, greatly pleased to hear his lighthearted jest. It was a sure sign that Elrohir was starting to heal, along with the healthier glow that was returning to his face. Estel’s grin faded a bit when he realized what that meant. Sooner, rather than later, he’d have to talk about his reaction to the events in the cave.

Trying not to ruin the mood with his own dark thoughts, he said with a smile, “Do you think you’re strong enough to get up? If you’re feeling up to it, we can sit you over by the fire. It would be a nice surprise for the others when they get back. I daresay they won’t be expecting to see you looking so chipper.”

In truth, he was feeling more like a newborn kitten than an elven warrior, but Elrohir didn’t want to disappoint Estel, who was looking at him hopefully. Masking his fatigue as much as possible, he lifted his arm in response. “Haul away, young one.”

He’d almost added a warning for Estel to be gentle, but Elrohir needn’t have worried. The teenager had hardly forgotten his brother’s injuries nor his strong reaction to the drugs. He was enough of a healer to know Elrohir was still far from well, but he also knew getting off one’s back was an important step in the healing process. While it would have been too soon for a human, Estel determined that with an elf’s healing ability, it shouldn’t do Elrohir any harm as long as all he did was sit by the fire.

His strong arms were steady as he helped Elrohir the short distance to the fire. Still, the elf was starting to waver before they got there and was more than grateful to be eased down onto the ground. Estel tucked a folded blanket between a log he’d pulled over and Elrohir’s back, and with little fuss, soon the elf was settled near the warm blaze.

“Are you alright? Was that too much? Are you in pain? Can I get you something? Elrohir?”

Elrohir had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply, trying to ride out the spasms of pain that snaked along his arm and shoulder and caused renewed throbbing in his head. He thought briefly that moving hadn’t been such a bright idea after all, but then after only a few moments the biting ache started to fade and he relaxed in relief.

“It’s alright. I’m fine,” he reassured his brother when he was confident he could speak without his voice wavering. “It was just a momentary twinge.”

Estel frowned, not liking to see how the color had once again drained from his brother’s face. He was about to berate himself for moving Elrohir too early, but then his brother smiled. “Estel, really. You need to lose that worried look before it freezes on your face. I’m fine.”

Still concerned, Estel asked seriously, “Are you sure? You’d tell me if you were hurting? If you need to lie down?”

Amused at just how much Estel sounded like their father at that moment, Elrohir assured him, “Yes. I promise. I’m fine. And if I need anything at all, you’ll be the first to know. Please, relax and join me.”

Estel studied his brother for any signs that he was hiding anything until he was finally satisfied and plopped down on the ground. Allowing that Elrohir really was alright he said, “Very well. It is nice to see you up, you know.”

“And it’s good to be up. One does get a better view of the world from up here,” Elrohir agreed.

“How long have the others been gone? Do you expect them back soon?” he asked.

“Oh, they only left a short while ago, but I don’t think they’ll be long. Elladan wanted to be here when you awoke. He’ll be sorry to have missed it, but I think Legolas wanted to get his mind on other things…he was starting to fret about you sleeping too long.”

“Always a worrier,” said Elrohir fondly. He’d never tell Estel, but he was missing his twin as well. The boy had done a first-rate job in helping him and he was quite proud of him, but whenever he was injured, Elrohir couldn’t help but long for the soothing presence of his twin. Some people couldn’t understand their close bond, but he didn’t care. It simply was the way they were, and he would be forever thankful for the fate that made him a twin.

Longing for his twin, though, didn’t make Elrohir any less appreciative to be in the presence of his younger brother. Now that the boy was in training, the opportunities for one-on-one time were few and far between. Thus, Elrohir put his mind to enjoying his little brother’s presence in the here and now.

When Estel didn’t answer right away, he proposed, “Since I’m not up to sparring just yet, if you’d like I can tell you some stories from my long-ago novice training. Although I know the training masters will tell you enough to prepare you, I can give you some ideas of the things they don’t tell you about...some things to watch out for, some things to focus on.”

“Well, Elladan already told me about the end of your training.” Estel admitted with a wince. He was sure that wasn’t something Elrohir felt like reminiscing about.

“Yes, I heard,” said Elrohir lightly. “He does get chatty at times, doesn’t he? Well, no matter. I meant to tell you something more interesting than that tiresome old tale. How about how we fared during our first lesson? As you’ve heard, in it they blindfold the trainees and take them to a far off clearing, then leave them to find the way back to camp. Now that led to some interesting tales in our year since it started pouring just after we were left and washed away all traces of the trail.”

Estel shook his head--he hadn’t heard the story before, but he really didn’t want to hear it now. With the others gone, Estel had decided now was the time to talk about the cave incident, assuming he could gather up enough courage.

Courage. Yes, that was what this was all about. It was the lesson his brother had taught him, albeit in a form neither had expected. He’d always thought of fear and courage as polar opposites, but now he understood the vital link between the two. The truly courageous weren’t free from fear—they did what they must in spite of it. It was what Elladan had tried to tell him and was a revelation he would carry with him always. And now it was time for him to show some courage—it was time to face his brother.

“Nay, I haven’t heard it before, but...but Elrohir, before the others come back, I need to say something. It’s about…it’s about what happened in the caves.”

Elrohir felt a pang shoot through him and involuntarily shook his head. Not yet.

“Ro, please, hear me out. This must be said. And I want to do it with just the two of us. This is important.”

Hearing the conviction in his brother’s voice, Elrohir looked down with an inward sigh. There was no delaying this. Very well, if it must be done, it may as well be done now. He raised his eyes, ready to face the consequences of his actions.

Estel swallowed. He still hadn’t structured his thoughts. But from out of nowhere, the words started to flow.

“When I…when I saw you in the cave after you’d seen the rats, you were scared. And I can’t tell you how much that shocked me, because I’ve never thought of you being scared of anything.”

“No…please…let me finish. I’d like to think I’ve grown up some in the last few days, because I realize what an utter fool I was. Of course you’re scared sometimes. As is Elladan, and Legolas, Ada, Glorfindel…everyone. Somehow…I always felt when I was grown I’d no longer be afraid of anything, but realize how utterly naïve that was. We’d be fools not to be afraid of some of the things in this world. But I saw you all, so daring and strong, and I couldn’t wait for the day when I would be just like you. I guess…I guess I always saw you as my big brave brother, fearless, ready to face the greatest of dangers without blinking. It took Elladan awhile to knock some sense into me…figuratively, of course…but now I see that even the bravest of souls feels fear, and that courage isn’t a lack of it, but…well…what you do in the face of it. Elrohir, I am not ashamed to admit that I cried when I heard the full story of why you react as you do—what you’ve faced. The fact that you were able to even enter the caves in the first place amazes me, let alone lead the search for Elladan. And after you were spooked…you didn’t turn back, even then. You wouldn’t even let Legolas lead the way. In spite of everything, in spite of knowing what awaited you, you still went back into the tunnel. Despite the terror that awaited you, you pushed forward and would not give way to your fears. I was just too foolish to see the strength that took. I…I am humbled by your example, so very ashamed of my reaction, and so proud to be your brother. Elrohir, this I swear to you, for the rest of my life…whenever I’m afraid…it will be the image of you in that cave, determined to persevere in spite of what you faced, that gives me strength. For you have opened my eyes—you have shown me the true face of courage.”

Estel finished his impassioned speech and drew in a deep breath. Elladan had been right. The words had come when he needed them, but now he waited for Elrohir’s reaction. He needed to know if they’d been enough.

For his part, Elrohir sat without speaking, stunned. His eyes were wide open in shock as he stared at Estel, not really believing what he’d heard. He’d been braced to hear of his brother’s disappointment, to hear how Estel loved him, but could no longer see him in the same light. Never had he expected Estel to express understanding, acceptance…and even pride in him. It was just…it was just more than his muddled mind could process.

Needing more than just words to express himself, Estel knelt beside his speechless brother and leaned forward, gently pulling him into a hug.

“Ro, you don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, then pulled back, sliding a hand down Elrohir’s uninjured arm to rest on his wrist, unwilling to lose the physical contact. Eyes full of remorse and love, he realized he’d forgotten the most critical thing.

Squeezing Elrohir’s wrist lightly to bring his brother’s eyes back up to him, Estel said, “Oh Elrohir, I am so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t understand and I’m sorry I made things so much harder for you. I have no excuse, not even my youth. You didn’t deserve my unkind words—not only was I callous, but I was so terribly wrong. I couldn’t have been more wrong. You embody the very essence of bravery and I’m just…I’m just so sorry. Will you forgive me?”

The words washing over him like a balm of warmth, in amazement Elrohir accepted that this was real and suddenly he felt truly at peace for the first time since Elladan disappeared. He tugged his hand out of Estel’s grasp and used it to pull his brother forward into another hug.

Finding his voice, he responded, “If forgiveness is what you desire, of course you have it. I too am sorry. Sorry I fell short of your expectations. I cherish your regard and could not bear to lose it.” He gave a short laugh and added, “But be careful with going too far in the other direction, little brother, I’m far from perfect and will find plenty of other ways to disappoint you, I expect…..Not as much as Elladan perhaps, but…

Estel pulled back and laughed, welcoming the break in the seriousness of the discussion.

“He is rather a pest, isn’t he? And he hasn’t even brought back anything to eat yet. I think he’s flitting around, admiring the pretty leaves instead of finding us food.”

“Flitting about? Admiring leaves?” a new voice interjected. “Show a little respect, young pup!”

The two looked up, so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t heard the return of their companions. Elladan stood over them, grinning, with Legolas just a couple of feet behind, also smiling in pleasure.

“You…how long have you been here?” stuttered Estel. While he didn’t mind the others knowing how he felt, this discussion with Elrohir was special and something he’d rather keep between the two of them.

For a moment Elladan was tempted to bait the lad and say they’d been listening for a good while, but something in the boy’s expression made him relent and instead answer truthfully, “Just long enough to hear you dismiss my prowess at hunting as leaf-gazing. You should have waited to see what we brought back before you disparaged our skills, though. We’ll be eating like kings soon enough.”

Dropping the bag filled with provisions he and Legolas had gathered, Elladan squatted down next to his brothers, still grinning but taking a moment to seriously assess the condition of his twin. Noting the remnants by the fire of the tea Estel had prepared, he realized that Elrohir’s awakening had been one of the more difficult ones, and his smile began to fade.

Elrohir was determined to keep the mood light, however, and swatted Elladan’s arm with the back of his hand.

“Now didn’t I say I disliked hovering?” he teased. “Come, you said we’d eat like kings, but so far all I’ve heard are empty words. Bragging doesn’t fill hungry bellies—so get on with it, you loafer. Fix me my dinner!”

Elladan snorted. So that’s how Elrohir wanted to play it. Very well. It took no more than a flick of his gaze to catch the lingering signs of the trauma Elrohir had experienced, but as they were a mere shadow of agony he’d been in earlier, he wouldn’t push his aching desire to fuss over his twin. And moreover, he was also sure, from the clear light of peace he saw in Elrohir’s eyes, that he and Estel had worked things out—apparently the boy had found the right words after all.

Unable to resist some show of his relief at seeing Elrohir so much improved, he reached out and squeezed Elrohir’s forearm, the look in his eyes saying more than mere words could ever express. But then he abruptly changed the mood by letting go and flicking the side of Elrohir’s head.

“And he called me a pest,” Elladan muttered as he stood, although he couldn’t prevent a grin.

Turning to the others, Elladan said, “Estel, his majesty here demanded dinner, so while he sits on his backside and watches us work, could you please put some more water on to boil? And Legolas, if you’ll start cutting up the vegetables, I’ll get to work on the fish. If I can wheedle the recipe out of our lazy companion, we’ll be in for a real treat.”

The three jumped into action, smiles decorating all their faces. After the stress of recent events, it was such a relief to do something as normal as joking around and preparing dinner. No companions to rescue, no crises to solve, no injuries to treat—life was good.

The small group continued their preparations, the silly mood lingering with ridiculous banter flying between them until the meal was almost ready. It was then that Elladan noticed his twin’s contributions had been growing fewer and fewer, until they had stopped altogether.

Signaling the others with a wordless gesture, Elladan left the final meal preparations to them while he joined Elrohir by the fire. A closer look told him that Elrohir was perhaps not as well as he’d led the others to believe.

Knowing he shouldn’t even try to fool his twin, Elrohir tipped his head forward and closed his eyes for a moment, “Tired. Shoulder’s aching a bit, too,” he admitted. He then raised his head, his expression filling with remorse, “and I’ve yet to apologize for my latest display of bad temper. It’s weighing heavily on me.”

He spoke louder, drawing Legolas into the conversation, “Once again I owe the two of you an apology for impossible behavior. It’s been kind of you to not bring it up, but I’m sorry you had to endure it. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

Legolas knelt on the ground next to the twins and said kindly, “Elrohir, you know we don’t hold you responsible for your actions after you’ve taken that draught. We expect it and understand it’s the herbs speaking…not you.” He patted his friend’s knee. “To free you from pain I’d suffer it a thousand times over. Think no more of it.”

“But it is still me saying these things. I don’t know where they come from. I assure you I don’t mean them.”

Elladan interrupted Legolas, wanting to cut off a predictable discussion in which Legolas tried to convince Elrohir he wasn’t to blame while Elrohir insisted on apologizing for everything he said or might have thought of saying.

In a lightly scolding tone, Elladan said, “Ro, you do this every time, you know, act as if you had full control over your words and…moreover…that we can’t take them. Do you think us so shallow that we can’t understand the circumstances? Or thin-skinned that we can’t take a few testy barbs? Give us more credit, brother.”

Elrohir dropped his eyes in embarrassment. He was clearly making things worse with his fumbling apologies. “I do give you credit, but that doesn’t mean I can accept my behavior. Please, allow me to at least apologize.”

Elladan was exasperated that this happened every time. He’d hoped Elrohir’s earlier merriment meant that for once they wouldn’t have to go through this. He was about to continue scolding his brother regarding his misguided sense of guilt, but then observed Elrohir’s drawn look and stopped himself short. No. Now wasn’t the time. Elrohir would continue to try to apologize no matter what they said, so it was up to him to close the issue.

Suddenly feeling a sense of amused affection for his stubborn, but well-meaning brother, he said, “Very well. I will say one more time that none of us blame you, but I speak for all when I say we accept your apology and are happy to put these events behind us, alright?’

Elrohir was surprised, but very relieved, at the quick acceptance of his apology. For being so in tune with him, sometimes Elladan didn’t understand how important it was to him to atone for his misdeeds and wouldn’t allow him to apologize, insisting there was no need.

Smiling in gratitude, he said, “Thank you.” But the smile faded abruptly when an unexpected sharp pain shot through his shoulder.

Elladan saw the wince he tried to hide and scowled. “We should have made you lie down while you waited,” he said. “I don’t think you’re as recovered as you’re pretending.”

Shrugging the non-throbbing shoulder, Elrohir shook his head, “Nay, I’m tired of being on my back. It’s nothing. I’ll be alright once I eat.”

“That’s my cue to help Estel finish dinner,” Legolas said, getting up. “Elladan, how about you stay here while we finish. We’re almost done and you need some rest as well.”

Elrohir snapped his head in his brother’s direction. “Have you been overdoing it? What’s wrong?”

Elladan settled down, scooting over until he was right next to his twin, his right side lightly brushing against Elrohir’s left. “I’m fine. Better than you, at any rate. Legolas is just being over solicitous.”

“I’m serious. I may be a bit tired, but am healing well. I had no troubles at all hunting. Don’t worry yourself over me.”

Elrohir wasn’t about to let his own troubles make him forget that it was Elladan who’d been captured and injured initially. But he heard the truth ring in Elladan’s voice and relented, deciding to change the subject.

He wiggled the fingers of his right hand, trapped and unusable. “You’re going to have to help with the fish when it’s done, you realize? Trying to pull out the bone with just one hand would make quite a mess.”

Elladan, also happy to speak of different things, grinned and said, “If your recipe holds true, you may not need assistance…it will fall off the bones.”

Elrohir, fully relaxed now due to his cleared conscience, couldn’t resist the closeness of his twin and leaned onto him, letting his head fall neatly onto Elladan’s shoulder, “mmm,” he agreed, his eyes slipping shut involuntarily.

Elladan grinned again. He’d known Elrohir’s strength was fading and was glad to be able to offer a strong shoulder to lean on.

“Are you really up for eating?” he asked quietly, not wanting to wake Elrohir if he was falling asleep.

Elrohir didn’t open his eyes, but he smirked and said, “Of course. Nothing would keep me from ‘a meal fit for kings.’”

Elladan shook his head and rolled his eyes. Stubborn troll…Elrohir clearly should rest. He couldn’t deny, however, that he was glad his brother was awake, even if just barely, and answered, “Well then open your eyes and sit up, for I believe it’s coming.”

Squinting open one eye and then the other, Elrohir looked up to see Legolas and Estel heading their way, laden with dinner.

Catching the concerned look Elladan shot at him, he said with exasperation, “Oh stop that. Really, I’m fine.”

Skeptical, but once again forgoing the opportunity to fuss, Elladan turned away and took the plate Legolas was handing him. The steaming food made his mouth water.

At the same time, Estel was trying to find the best way to situate Elrohir’s plate. He was afraid if he just put it in Elrohir’s lap, it might tip if the elf moved, but before he could decide what to do, Elrohir solved his dilemma by taking the plate himself and placing it on the ground beside him.

Elrohir was amused to see Estel had already anticipated his needs and had cut up the vegetables into small pieces as well as deboning the fish. With a smile and a wink, he thanked his little brother and began eating with renewed vigor.

The meal was all the companions could have desired, delicious and filling, with pleasant conversation while they ate. They lingered over it in the calm of the early afternoon, savoring the chance to unwind from the last few days and spend some peaceful time with one another. When at last their plates were empty, they all felt a sense of fulfillment and happiness underlying a certain lethargy—no one felt like being the first to move. It was only when Elrohir started once more sliding onto his brother’s shoulder that Legolas decided one of them had to budge.

“Estel,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle Elrohir, who was slowly losing the battle to stay awake. Once he had Estel’s attention, the blond elf tilted his head towards the twins, grinning when he saw Elladan’s head tipping over onto Elrohir’s as his eyes also drifted shut. Apparently there were two dark-haired elves who were running out of energy.

Estel shook his head. His brothers. He was afraid they would object to being sent to bed like cranky younglings requiring a midday nap, but with their healing injuries that’s what they both needed.

Wordlessly, he and Legolas arose without disturbing the dozing pair and quickly and efficiently laid out two bed rolls near the fire. Then, again working in wordless harmony, he went over to wake Elladan, leaving the stronger Legolas to attend to the more injured twin.

“Elladan, come…you are still not recovered from your injuries and I believe some rest will do you well.”

Elladan jerked, startled awake, but quickly realized what was happening. Contrary to Estel’s prediction that he’d object, instead the elder twin glanced over at Elrohir before nodding sleepily. “That’s an excellent idea, Estel. You’ll see to it that Ro also gets settled?”

Estel patted his brother’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, Legolas is seeing to him. Come...I’ll help you over.”

“Leave off, I’m not an invalid,” said Elladan mildly when Estel reached down to help him up.

He didn’t, however, push away the offered hand and allowed his brother to gently pull him up. It was just a matter of moments before he was comfortably situated in his bed, where he laid back and watched the others help Elrohir over.

The younger twin’s journey was a lot slower, with both Legolas and Estel helping him carefully walk the short distance and then cautiously easing him down. In due time, though, he was also settled and his eyes fluttered closed as soon as he sank into the blankets.

Seeing Elrohir comfortable and content, it was only a matter of minutes before Elladan, too, was asleep and the twins were left alone to rest.

Legolas and Estel quietly cleaned up after their meal, scrubbing the plates clean and tossing the waste. In short order the camp was tidy and the pair were left with some quiet free time. Legolas used it to make some new arrows, while Estel took out a small whistle he’d begun carving and set to work on it.

The two worked in companionable silence as the afternoon passed, each content to quietly contemplate their own thoughts.

Legolas thought of how these last few days could have ended, with the loss of either one or both of the twins. He’d lost many a close comrade over the years, but the thought of losing either of these two, who were as close to him as brothers, was sobering. It made him all the more grateful how things had turned out. He’d battled enough injustice in his life and had seen how the fickle hand of fate could strike randomly and cruelly, so it was with a sense of peace and pleasure that he accepted the outcome of these days’ events.

Estel’s thoughts ran along a similar line, mostly filled with immense gratitude for the well-being of his brothers. The twins each had injuries that would take awhile to heal, but they were safe and they would heal. Having first-hand knowledge of loss from an early age, Estel couldn’t help but be aware of the joy that filled him at that thought. The other issue that occupied his mind was, of course, his newfound understanding of the essence of courage and the events that taught him that lesson. He still felt remorse for the hurt he’d caused Elrohir, but his brother’s full acceptance of his apology had lessened the guilt, and he felt in a strange way it had brought them closer.

Estel put down the whistle and looked at his sleeping brothers. The quiet of the camp reminded him of the evening when he had sat with Legolas and tried to gain his support against the twins. Legolas had shut him up quickly and decisively…Estel smiled softly as he remembered his angry response to the prince’s words. Words which he now understood and accepted. How much had changed in such a short time. How much he had changed.

He shared a look of friendship with Legolas, which the prince returned when he caught Estel looking at him, then walked over to the twins and sat down a few feet from them. Estel enjoyed the opportunity to just be still, content to watch his brothers as they slept. They had need of healing rest and he was sure they’d sleep through to the following morning.

After awhile, Elladan murmured something, apparently caught by a dream. He shifted restlessly and once again said something too soft for Estel to understand. He didn’t need to hear the words, though, to realize what Elladan’s subconscious was focusing on when the elder twin turned on his side and reached out for Elrohir. Estel smiled when his brother found Elrohir’s arm and lightly touched it. In an instant, the lines on Elladan’s forehead smoothed and the elf settled once again in sleep, reassured that his twin was safe.

Estel sighed deeply with his own sense of satisfaction. He’d made a new friend in Legolas. He’d learned an important life lesson. And those he loved were safe. The future was uncertain and likely to be filled with new burdens and heartaches, but for now...for now all was right in the world.

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A/N: Well, I can hardly believe it. It’s done. I’m rather embarrassed to see how long it took, but pleased that, yes, I really did manage to finish the darn thing like I’ve always promised I would. Life’s taken some unexpected and sad turns, chasing away my muse for eons at a time and seriously limiting a desire to write. I hope I resolved any open issues and finished it up to everyone’s satisfaction, though. I send my sincere thanks to all who’ve had the endless patience to follow my little story, especially those of you kind enough to review. I’ve appreciated you all! Signing off…Firstmate

The True Face of Courage by FirstMate