Thanks to daw the minstrel for beta reading this chapter

Chapter 11: Overwhelmed

Elrond awoke as something silky tickled his nose. Even as his mind wished to brush away the annoyance, his arms instinctively knew that they cradled something fragile and of great value and held on gently.  His instinct to roll away and return to sleep was further blunted when a soft sigh invaded his consciousness.  His eyes focusing reluctantly, Elrond realized that it was strands of Arwen’s hair that were teasing him and he carefully smoothed them down. She sighed again and snuggled against him.

A quick glance about the campsite revealed Elladan nearly asleep on watch and Glorfindel in as deep a sleep as he remembered seeing the elf, one hand resting lightly on Elrohir.  Elrond sighed.  The night had been as long as he remembered.

The previous evening Elrond had decided not to sedate Arwen, as she had not seemed to be in pain that would prevent her from sleeping. She had drifted off as darkness fell, but night terrors had invaded her path of dreams. Twice she had awakened screaming, clutching at his tunic as she attempted to hold on and not fall into the river.  Elrond had managed to calm her both times, using all of his healing ability to chase away the fears that plagued her and push her back into sleep. Elrohir he had drugged, for the pain in his son’s leg had increased significantly after standing, but Arwen’s screams had awakened him as well. His normally good natured son had been in pain and unable to return to sleep or to help himself become comfortable, and frustration had overcome his normal restraint.

Elrond let his gaze rest on his sleeping son, and felt pity well up within him as he saw the tear tracks that still stained the now peaceful face.  Elrohir had been silent after an initial moan of pain had escaped him upon waking. Elrond had noted his son’s distress, but he had focused on calming Arwen.  Elladan had tried to tend his brother, but Elrohir had been fretful and crabby and Elladan had finally told him to try to sleep again.

‘Quit telling me to what to do!’ Elrohir had cried.  Elladan had looked shocked and been rendered speechless at his twin’s outburst.  He had reached out to Elrohir, but Elrohir had pulled away. ‘Do not touch me!’

Elrohir’s outburst had awakened Arwen, who had just fallen back to sleep.  She had jumped, startled, and hit her injured hand against the ground.  Bursting into tears, she had cried in pain. Elrond had gathered her close, soothing her, and then realized that Arwen’s sobs were not the only ones he was hearing. He had looked over to see Elrohir’s shoulders shaking.  The sound was muffled, as Elrohir attempted to suppress any noise by burying his face in his blanket.  Elladan was sitting back on his heels, hurt and confusion on his face, his hand falling limply back to his side as he watched his twin sob.

Glorfindel had been on watch, walking the perimeter of the camp, when he heard the commotion.  He had returned, quickly surveyed the situation and chosen Elladan to comfort. Elrond smiled at the memory.  What he had thought would be least helpful turned out to be a good choice.  Glorfindel had knelt down next to Elladan, wrapping an arm about his shoulders and squeezing gently.  ‘I do not know what to do,’ Elladan had admitted softly. ‘I am only making him feel worse.’

Glorfindel had answered softly, ‘Sometimes when someone feels this bad, they do not know what will make them feel better.  It must be very frustrating for Elrohir, but he knows you are not to blame. Will you go refill the waterskins? I, at least, would like a cool drink.’

Elladan had smiled gratefully, glad for something to do, and gone to do Glorfindel’s bidding.  Glorfindel had sat near Elrohir, and gently stroked his hair while remaining silent. Elrohir had eventually reached out his still torn and bruised fingers, seeking comfort, and Glorfindel had simply sat and held his hand, stroking the dark head, until the sobs subsided into sleep.

The camp had been calm until nightmares again tormented Arwen, and her screams once again roused the whole camp.  Elrohir had jerked upright in surprise and fear, and promptly fallen over in pain and dizziness. Thus had their night been spent.

Now, sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees, shining off the waters of the flooded river and invading the camp uninvited. Glorfindel stirred, finally sitting up and stretching.  He blinked at the sun, then looked down at his young charge.  He traced a tear track with his fingertip.

“I seldom wish Anor would return to sleep and allow Ithil a repeat performance, but on this day I do,” yawned Glorfindel.

Elladan jerked upright at the sound of Glorfindel’s voice. He looked around, surprised, then flushed in embarrassment. “I fell asleep,” he muttered, mortified.

Elrond cradled his daughter close.  “Perhaps they will sleep for a while yet.” He paused, looking at the rising sun for a moment.  “Perhaps we will all nap while we can.”

Elladan looked at the river too, his eyes brightening.  “Adar, do you think we could somehow have the makings of a mattress sent over in the basket? Elrohir is so uncomfortable on the hard ground.”

“Perhaps,” answered Elrond, “but it will take several days to have anything sent.”

Although Elrond had not meant his words to be discouraging, they had that effect.  Elladan’s shoulders slumped, Glorfindel sighed, and even Elrond felt a momentary despair.  “We will send word across the river,” he said, forcing his voice to sound cheerful. “Better to have the items in a few days than not at all.”

* * *

Elrond sighed softly as he eased Elrohir back to the ground.  He could feel his son’s heart racing and hear the slight gasps masquerading as breaths, but worse was the despair and frustration that emanated from his child.  Elrohir had wanted to rise, but had not been able to balance himself. An overwhelming desire to push Elrohir into sleep battled with a parental desire to see Elrohir persevere through this trial, and Elrond felt the desire to make his child rest winning out.

“Elrohir,” he began, but he was interrupted by an anguished cry from his son.  Elrohir flung his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving as he struggled to control himself. Elrond drew in a deep breath. “Elrohir, do you wish me to help you rest, or do you want to be left alone for a while?”

“Please leave me alone,” Elrohir choked out, his fist clenching.

Elrond kissed his son on the head and whispered, “Call me if you need anything.”

Elrond rose and walked away from where Elrohir lay.  The whole camp was tense and quiet, and Elrond felt the frustration of knowing Elrohir wished to be alone, yet could not be left that way.

“Elladan, would you play with me?” asked Arwen.

“What do you want to play?” replied Elladan. He had been slumped against the large rock near the cooking fire, idly studying a leaf he held in his hands, but looked up and smiled at his sister.

“I do not know.  I was hoping you knew something to play,” said Arwen sadly.

Elladan held out his arms to her, and Arwen gladly walked the few short steps to him.  She sat in his lap, seemingly content even if Elladan had no ideas for play. Seeing his youngest occupied, Elrond sat down and closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax in meditation. He was feeling the stress of the last several days, and the lack of sleep for the last several nights was taking its toll on him.  He had drifted far in meditation when he heard Glorfindel’s voice.

“Elladan, come walk along the ridge with me,” said Glorfindel from the edge of camp.  “The view of the rivers is quite spectacular from up here.”

Elrond opened his eyes, bringing his mind back to the present and reaching for Arwen. Her eyes had drifted half closed and she dozed in Elladan’s arms.  Elladan gently shifted her to Elrond’s arms, and then stood. Elrond settled back down with Arwen cuddled in his lap, and smiled as she yawned and opened her eyes.  She started suddenly, sitting up.

“Elladan!” she called.  “Where are you going?”

“I am going to walk with Glorfindel. I will be back in a few minutes,” he reassured her.

Elrond watched in amazement as Arwen’s face contorted in anger. “You said you would play with me!”

“Arwen, sweetheart, you fell asleep.  Nap with Ada, and when you wake up, I will be back and we will play then,” offered Elladan.

Arwen’s gaze had swept to Glorfindel, and she unleashed her fury on him. “This is all your fault, Glorfindel! You always take my brothers away from me!  Elladan is playing with me!” Her fury ended in sobs of distress, and Elrond pulled her to his chest. As he rocked Arwen in his arms, he looked up to see Elladan sitting down again at the rock, dejection and sadness expressed clearly on his face.  Glorfindel was leaning against a tree, his gaze focused on an interesting spot on the ground.  Elrond sounded a short whistle, rather than using words to gain their attention.  He motioned for them to go. After a long moment of indecision, Elladan rose, and he and Glorfindel walked off together.

Elrond stroked Arwen’s hair as he soothed her, and she clung to him as if brokenhearted.  She was so tired, and dark circles were evident under her eyes.  She had been uncomplaining about her discomfort, but she was feeling the limitations of not having both hands, of not being able to run and play, and not having any of her usual playthings with her. Her outburst might be attributed to that, but he recalled how Arwen had rebuffed Glorfindel the morning the twins and Glorfindel had left Imladris, and realized that she was jealous of the elf.

A smile crossed his face and he had to keep from laughing and rousing her when she was finally calming down.  The thought of his little Arwen being jealous of Glorfindel spending time with her brothers was somehow both amusing and endearing. Nonetheless, her jealousy would need to be addressed.  He felt her relax in his arms as she drifted into sleep again, and allowed his own eyes to close as he decided to rest with her.  They would deal with Arwen’s jealousy when she was less tired, less uncomfortable and more rational.

* * *

Glorfindel and Elladan walked silently for several minutes, as Glorfindel led them to a spot on the high ridge.  Glorfindel could feel Elladan’s despondency, for he wore it like a cloak about him.  Elladan had always taken his responsibility to his siblings very seriously; though a twin, he was eldest in both birth order and in how he perceived the order of his world.  Glorfindel had long thought his outlook came from his personality rather than from which minute he had been born.  Yet today, the siblings he cherished had both had harsh words for him. While intellectually he knew they were stressed, that did not lessen the pain.

“I did not know you were holding Arwen,” Glorfindel finally broke the silence.

Elladan shrugged. “She was sleeping.”

“Arwen and Elrohir are both stressed beyond anything they have ever experienced before,” offered Glorfindel.

“Even when Elrohir was in awful pain, and suffering terribly with his breathing, he did not act like this,” replied Elladan, hurt in his voice.

“Elrohir was fighting for his life then. He needed you desperately, and your adar too. But now he is fighting for his independence.  He is feeling better, but still has to depend on us for everything. He is terribly frustrated by this, and he is still in pain and not sleeping well.  None of these reasons lessen how you feel, Elladan, but you need to keep your perspective.  He is not angry with you. Knowing Elrohir, when he regains his perspective, he will be appalled at how he treated you,” explained Glorfindel.

Elladan was silent as he considered what Glorfindel had said.  Glorfindel remained quiet, giving Elladan time to think, and instead allowed his gaze to roam over the countryside.  The view was beautiful, and the rivers in their raging glory were spectacular to look upon.  The power of the water was immense, reshaping the ground it passed through and carrying away all that stood in its way. It reminded Glorfindel of how small and fragile each life was, and how easily a life could be extinguished.  Suddenly, movement on the west side of the Hoarwell caught his attention, and he walked to the edge of the small clearing.

“Elladan!” he called. A broad grin spread over his face as he motioned to the tiny figures moving towards them.  “We are soon to have guests in our humble camp.”

‘But how?” Elladan was stunned. “Garthon could not have made it to Imladris, and no one from Imladris could have made it that far south . . . . It is Celeborn and Galadriel!” he exclaimed in sudden recognition.  “But how did they know?”

Glorfindel laughed.  “Ask not how your daernaneth knows things.”

“They should be here by nightfall,” said Elladan excitedly. 

Glorfindel grinned again as he followed Elladan, who was already hurrying back to camp to share the good news.

* * *

A cry of pain roused Elrond from his nap.  He sat up immediately, Arwen still asleep in his arms.  Placing her on a blanket, he jumped to his feet and raced to Elrohir’s side.  His son was lying sprawled face down on the ground, his leg twisted beneath him and his fingers dug into the dirt and grass.  Elrond had reached him when he heard Elrohir finally exhale and then begin moaning in agony.

Expert fingers quickly examined the splinted leg and now twisted knee, and Elrond had to suppress the frustration that rose within him as he felt the new damage.  “This is going to hurt, Elrohir,” Elrond warned him, and then gently turned him over on to his back.  The intense pain in the twisted leg rose as Elrond straightened it, and Elrohir cried out again.  The pain diminished somewhat then, and Elrohir’s breaths came in gasping heaves.

“Elrohir, look at me,” said Elrond firmly as he placed a hand on either side of Elrohir’s face.

Elrohir opened his eyes to face his father, and cried out, “I am sorry, Adar! I am sorry . . .” He grasped his father’s hands, his breaths becoming more rapid and ragged as the pain and panic and guilt overwhelmed him.

“Elrohir, focus on me!” repeated Elrond. “Breathe in, now out. Keep your eyes on me.  Breathe, Elrohir.” As Elrohir did as instructed and began to calm, Elrond gathered his healing power and focused it into his son.  Pushing away the panic and fear, Elrond replaced it with peace and calm. He felt Elrohir relax beneath him, and then his eyes glazed over and finally closed.

Elrond sat back on his heels, allowed himself a moment to recover, and had begun to remove the splint from Elrohir’s leg when another heartrending voice broke the silence.

“Help me!  Ada, Elrohir, help!” screamed Arwen as terror again invaded her dreams.

Elrond listened to her scream as fresh blood seeped through the bandages on his son’s leg

* * *

Elladan heard his brother’s cry just as he began to return to camp.  Fear filled his heart as he sensed his twin’s distress, and he leapt forward in a run.  They were almost back to camp when Elrohir cried out again, and then a moment later Arwen began to scream in terror.  Elladan stopped abruptly as he skidded into the camp, torn as to which sibling to attend first.

“Help Arwen,” directed Glorfindel, who did not slow but raced to where Elrond knelt near Elrohir.

Elladan gathered Arwen in his arms, holding her close.  “Arwen, you are all right.  I have you, sweetheart, you are not going to fall,” he soothed her.  She gradually came awake, still hiccupping sobs, and then grabbed on to Elladan as if he were her lifeline.  He rubbed her back and whispered to her, calming her, but all the time his eyes were focused across the camp.

Elrond had removed the bandages and splint from Elrohir’s leg, bright red blood staining the white linen, and Elladan could easily read the grim determination on his father’s face.

“What happened?” Elladan finally asked.

Elrond did not look up from his work. “I do not know, exactly. I heard him cry out and found him crumpled on the ground with his leg twisted beneath him.”

Elladan saw the tear running down his father’s cheek.  He knew better than to speak while his father concentrated on setting the bone back into place, but that did not stop his thoughts. I am sorry I was not here to help you, Adar. I should have stayed at Elrohir’s side, regardless of his wishes. Forgive me, Adar. His thoughts intensely focused on Elrohir, he felt a sudden sharp pain in his leg as his mind registered the grinding of bone on bone. He hissed at the unexpected discomfort, then allowed it to flow through him as he realized he was again feeling Elrohir’s pain.

* * *

Elrond wrapped the last strip of linen around the new splint, this one now bracing the strained knee as well, and then sat down on the hard ground beside his son.  Glorfindel had washed Elrohir’s face and hands, and brushed the twigs and leaves from his long hair. Elrond now stroked the dark head absently. I wish I had given him no choice and simply helped him to rest earlier. A soft groan escaped him as strong fingers began massaging his neck and shoulders, and Elrond leaned into Glorfindel’s comforting presence.

“Even in war we had tables to work on when tending our patients,” said Elrond tiredly.

Glorfindel laughed softly. “We were returning with good news when we heard Elrohir cry out.  Would you like to hear it or be surprised?”

Elrond groaned. “Please, any good news right now would be welcome.  Has a bridge suddenly built itself across the river?”

“No,” answered Glorfindel, his strong hands still working the kinks from Elrond’s back. “A large party approaches from the south. Celeborn and Galadriel.”

Elrond felt a wave of relief sweep over him. If Galadriel had had a vision, she might even be bearing needed supplies that could make Elrohir more comfortable.  Their guards could keep watch, sparing Glorfindel and Elladan that duty.  Elrond had not realized that tears were slipping down his cheeks until he felt a gentle hand brush the wetness away.

“Elrohir will find this lesson painful and humbling,” said Glorfindel.

Elrond leaned forward to kiss the dark head next to him. “I had considered giving him no option earlier today.  I had thought to just make him rest, but reminded myself he is an adult and needs to learn to cope with difficult situations.  So I allowed him the choice, to be left alone or accept my aid.  He wished to be left alone. Part of me sorely regrets allowing him any choice.”

“I think the twins both felt they were trying out their wings, being independent on this trip, even if I was along.  Now suddenly, Elrohir is more helpless than he has ever been. In addition to being dependent, he is in pain and very uncomfortable.  This situation would try the most patient of elves,” mused Glorfindel.

“This situation is trying my patience,” admitted Elrond in a barely audible voice. “These are my children, and it is difficult to see them suffer.”

Glorfindel gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Adar, Glorfindel, there is a signal from across the river,” called Elladan softly.

Glorfindel rose and walked to the riverbank. “There are more elves from Imladris present.  They have supplies to send over,” he called back up to Elrond and Elladan.

A short while later, Glorfindel reappeared with a bundle in hand.  “This first bundle is for Arwen,” he announced.  “The note indicates this is the first of many baskets to be sent over.”

Elladan unwrapped just a corner of the package, a smile crossing his face.  Arwen was dozing on his shoulder, and he shook her gently.  “Arwen, wake up.  Gifts from home have arrived for you.”

Arwen gradually awoke, her eyes still heavy and dark. She rested her face against Elladan’s chest and fingered the package absently.

“Would you like me to open it for you?” asked Elladan.

When she nodded, he opened one particular item first.  Arwen’s face lit up immediately and with a cry of delight she hugged her doll, tears of joy streaming down her face. “I thought she was lost forever! My doll!  My doll!”

Elrond could see that someone had carefully cleaned the mud from the doll, brushed out her hair and dressed her in new clothes. He smiled to see Elladan next hold up additional clothing for the doll, so Arwen could properly put her to bed and dress her up. The next bundle Elladan opened was filled with clothing for Arwen, which she again hugged to her body.  Finally, the last package, wrapped to protect against moisture, included her books, a game, drawing pencils and paper and her favorite cup. Elrond would cherish the look on Arwen’s face forever.  She was delighted and crying at the same time.

Elladan pulled a small scrap of parchment from the bottom of the bundle and read it, his expression softening.  He handed it to Glorfindel, who only smiled and then gave it to Elrond.  As Elrond scanned the note, he at first only noted the fine writing of his advisor. He began to laugh then, and nearly cry himself, as he pictured Erestor in the midst of the crisis of getting Elrond across the river and preventing Celebrían from following. Somehow, in spite of all that, he had created this detailed list of all the things Arwen would want or need, and then sent it to Imladris.

“It even says, ‘clean doll first and have Amariel make it new clothes immediately’,” laughed Elrond.  “He even noted which books were her favorites.”

Glorfindel returned to the river to receive the next basket load, and then came up the path carrying what appeared to be heavy sacks. “Calendil says there are more of these coming, whatever they are,” he said as he set the sacks down.

Elrond felt like a child on his begetting day.  He checked Elrohir to ensure he was still sleeping, and then joined the others in digging through the items.

Elladan had opened one sack.  “Feathers?” he said dubiously.

But Glorfindel laughed and held up a sheet of parchment.  “Instructions for stuffing a feather mattress!” He snorted then.  “Do they think we do not know how?”

“Have you ever made one?” asked Elladan with a smile.

“No,” admitted Glorfindel, “but I think I am about to learn.”

Arwen watched happily as Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrond wrestled the feathers, mattress cover and ticking into a suitable bed. Elladan flopped down on it and sighed.  “Perfect!” he declared. “It feels like home.” He jumped up and picked up the mattress, laying it down next to Elrohir. As he gazed upon his twin, his eyes filled with tears. He pulled back the light blanket covering his brother. Fading bruises still covered his torso and back; linen wrappings still bound healing ribs. Scratches and wounds were healing over, but still evident on his arms and hands.  The splint now encased his leg from toes to thigh.

“Oh, Elrohir, I hate to see you in pain,” he murmured.

Glorfindel covered the mattress with a sheet, and laid Elrohir’s pillow from home on top. The three of them carefully lifted the injured elf and laid him gently on the mattress. Elrond put additional pillows beneath the damaged leg, and then covered him with a soft sheet and light blanket.

Additional supplies and personal items had arrived for each of them, each carefully chosen. Bedding and clothing, food and cooking items, and a few favorite personal effects were included for each of them.

“Erestor is amazing,” said Elladan finally. “How did he know what we would need or want or simply like to have?  He sent my favorite clothing for wearing on patrol, the book I was planning to read next, and my harp and whittling knife.”

“There is little that escapes Erestor’s notice,” said Elrond fondly.

A slight sound from Elrohir caught his attention, and Elrond moved quickly to his side.  Elrohir was restless, and Elrond caught Elrohir’s hand in his own, and felt Elrohir calm instantly.  Eyes focused reluctantly, and Elrond could see the pain in their depths. A few moments passed before memory came to Elrohir, and his eyes reflected his grief.

“Adar, I am sorry. I just wanted a drink of water and I did not want to wake you,” Elrohir admitted dully.

Elrond smiled and stroked his son’s hair.  “It pains me to see you struggle so, Elrohir. I know you want to do for yourself and it must frustrate you terribly that you cannot. Will you promise, Elrohir, that you will let us take care of you?”

Tears spilled from Elrohir’s eyes and he brushed them away angrily. Elrond caught his hand, and held it gently. “Let go of the anger, Elrohir.  Why are you angry with yourself? Do you think you are weak? Do you think we think you are weak?  Because you are not.  You are injured, drugged and in pain.  You may cry if you want and we will not think less of you.”

“I am a warrior, Adar, I should be able to withstand pain and discomfort,” replied Elrohir.

“You have withstood pain and discomfort. Now you need to withstand letting go of your pride and allowing us to care for you.  Sometimes that is the more difficult thing to do.  I want your promise, Elrohir.  I cannot stand to see you suffer like this.”

“I promise,” answered Elrohir contritely. He paused, and then said, “Adar, I am still thirsty.”

Elrond laughed and first gave his son a small vial of steeped herbs to drink.  “For the pain and to help prevent infection,” he explained.  “There are some surprises in camp – you are lying on one of them.  When you awake, there will be another.  Now sleep, and I will be here by your side.”

Elrohir smiled as he snuggled into the downy bed, and soon drifted off into sleep.

* * *

“It should be two braids, and then make them into one braid here,” said Arwen, pointing at the back of her doll’s head.

Glorfindel deftly twisted and wove the strands, combining the two to make one large braid, as directed.  He tied it off with a pink ribbon.  Arwen smiled in satisfaction and hugged the doll to her chest. Glorfindel had even dressed the doll in her nightgown, managing all the tiny buttons without skipping any of them.

“Would you like your hair to match?” asked Glorfindel.

“Yes, please!” cried Arwen in delight.

“First you need your matching nightgown, then,” said Glorfindel thoughtfully.  He dug through her satchel of clothing, pulling out the gown he had seen that was a perfect match to her doll’s.  He pulled the tunic up over her head and helped her change into fresh underthings, then pulled the nightgown on and fastened its row of tiny buttons up the back.

Next he turned his attention to brushing and plaiting her hair, the blue-black strands shining in the fading sunlight.  He created the same design with Arwen’s braids as he had with the doll’s, and then held up a small mirror so she could see the effect.

“We look like twins now, just like Elladan and Elrohir,” she informed him.  She turned and kissed him on the cheek.  “Thank you, Glorfindel.”

“You are welcome, Arwen,” replied Glorfindel, as Arwen leaned back against him and began singing to her doll. 

Glorfindel’s eyes met Elrond’s as they heard an Imladris call and both smiled, knowing that Celeborn and Galadriel were now very close.  Elrond, who had sat at Elrohir’s side all afternoon, answered and then left his injured son to his twin’s care and walked up the hill.

Several minutes later, Elrond returned. Glorfindel could not help but smile as Galadriel and Celeborn followed him into camp. He waited for Arwen to notice them, but then realized her eyes were half closed and the singing was barely a hum.

“Arwen, open your eyes,” he whispered.

Arwen opened her eyes, blinked, and then sat up straight.  Her eyes widened in surprise and recognition, and then she held out her arms and cried, “Daernaneth! Daerada!” as she attempted to rise. Glorfindel stood and walked swiftly forward, depositing Arwen in Galadriel’s arms.

* * *

Arwen’s cry had roused Elrohir from his drugged sleep, but only enough to ask Elladan what was wrong.

“We have visitors,” said Elladan.

“Oh,” yawned Elrohir tiredly.

“Is this how your greet your daeradar?”

Elrohir’s eyes flew open to see Celeborn standing above him.  His grandfather knelt down and kissed him on both cheeks.

“What is this I hear about my grandson being brave and courageous and jumping off a crumbling bridge to save his sister?” asked Celeborn.  He patted the bedding his speechless grandson was lying on. “At least they have made you a bed fit for a prince. You deserve no less.”

“Daeradar!” Elrohir finally sputtered. “How did you find us? Why are you here?”

Celeborn smiled. “Your daernaneth knew you were in danger and needed us.  So we came.”

Elladan helped Elrohir sit up so Celeborn could sit behind him, and  Elrohir leaned back against his grandfather’s comforting presence.  He could now see most of the camp, and was amazed to find it full of elves.  His grandmother was carrying Arwen, rubbing her back and rocking her, even as she moved gracefully about the camp. Elrohir nearly laughed aloud to hear his grandmother giving orders, directing guards and others who had accompanied them to set up tents and reorganize the layout.

Suddenly Galadriel stood before him, and Elrohir felt her piercing thought directed at him. He cowered slightly, but was held lovingly in his grandfather’s arms, and he allowed his grandmother to see into his heart.  She suddenly smiled at him, and it was as if the sun shone through storm clouds. Arwen still in her arms, she sat down gracefully beside him. She ghosted her hand up the length of his damaged leg, and then laid her hand on his chest as she studied him intently.

“I hold you to the same promise you made your father,” she finally said.  An unspoken communication seemed to pass between Galadriel and Celeborn, and Elrohir felt his grandfather’s hold on him tighten slightly.  “You were very brave, Elrohir, and we are proud of you. Now you must do all you can to heal, as we wish for you to be whole and healthy again.”

Night descended on the camp as soft music was made and sweet wine was enjoyed. Arwen fell asleep in her grandmother’s arms, and there she spent the night, with Galadriel holding all unpleasant dreams at bay. Elrohir saw Galadriel order Glorfindel, his father and twin to bed, and they obeyed after wishing him a good night.  Elrohir drifted into dreams while listening to the soft tenor of his grandfather singing by his side.

* * * * *

Daeradar…………grandfather

Daernaneth………grandmother