"ELLADAN!"

Startled, the older twin looked out the nearest window of their home, seeing his younger brother desperately holding onto the manes of two horses. Two very familiar horses… "Elrohir! What's happened?!"

"Ada and Legolas' horses arrived without them!" Elrohir shouted.

Elladan gasped, rushing for their weapons before running out the nearest door.

"Take us to them!" Elrohir whispered to the horses, mounting his father's.

Elladan swiftly mounted Legolas' horse, and the twin sons of Elrond quickly rode out, praying that they'd quickly find their father and the elf that they loved as a brother, before the evil that had befallen them possibly claimed their lives.

********************

"There they are!" Elladan exclaimed.

Elrohir's heartbeat quickened at the sight of the two elves lying on the ground amidst the bodies of dead orcs. Quickly dismounting, he grabbed his father's healing bag and dropped to his knees, checking Legolas for a pulse. He sighed with relief when he found one. "He lives!" he exclaimed. Seeing the bloody bandage on Legolas' shoulder, he carefully took hold of him and eased him off their father, who he'd been laying across, obviously having lost consciousness while attempting to tend the older elf.

Elladan's heart began to race at the sight of their father, who was covered in blood. It was apparent that Legolas had not had sufficient time to bind their father's wound before collapsing from his own injury.

Elrohir gently laid their friend on the ground and looked at Elrond, his eyes widening with fear.

Elladan shared the anxious look as he felt for their father's pulse. It was weak, but there. "He lives," he said.

Elrohir sighed with relief, quickly checking Legolas' injury.

Elladan picked up the thoroughly saturated strips of cloth from Elrond's wound and threw them aside, grabbing the half-ripped cloak and tearing off more strips. Elrond made no sound as Elladan held them to his wound, and the older twin prayed that the bleeding would soon stop.

Elrohir reached for his father's healing bag, retrieving a needle and thread. He had no idea how long the two elves had lain here, so he quickly started to stitch their friend's wound, not wanting the ride home to worsen the bleeding.

Elladan held the pieces of cloth to their father's injury, pressing down tightly, relieved that Elrond was not awake to feel it. The wounded elf's skin was deathly pale and cold, and the twins both knew that if they had arrived any later, it might have been too late to save him.

Elrohir quickly finished stitching the arrow-wound in Legolas' shoulder, carefully rewrapping it and making a fire. Taking the healing bag again, he was immensely grateful that their father had taught them the art of healing as he fished through the bag of herbs.

Elladan was impatiently watching the status of Elrond's bleeding as he again tossed aside bloody cloths and grabbed new ones. "We cannot wait for the bleeding to stop," he told his brother. "One of us needs to stitch while the other wipes away the blood."

Elrohir nodded, grabbing a pot out of the healing bag and setting it at the edge of the fire, pouring water from his father's waterskin and dropping in the appropriate herbs.

Elladan shifted his position as his brother knelt on the other side of their father, needle and thread in hand.

Elrohir started to stitch, the action difficult with so much blood welling up from the wound. He had to wait in between each stitch for Elladan to wipe it away before he could again see the edges of Elrond's skin. It took quite a while, but finally they finished.

In unison, they heaved great sighs, bandaging the wound with more strips from Elrond's ruined cloak.

Crossing back to the fire, Elladan removed the pot of boiling tea, pouring it into two cups and adding more water to cool it.

Elrohir took one and slid an arm under Legolas, lifting him up high enough to drink, thankful that swallowing was a reflexive action.

Elladan did the same with Elrond, carefully feeding him the medicated tea, frowning at the paleness of his skin.

Their tending finished; Elladan and Elrohir wrapped their two patients in blankets from Elrond and Legolas' packs and mounted the horses, eager to get the two injured elves home and safely into warm beds.

********************

Legolas was surprised to wake feeling pain, and he frowned at the unexpected sensation. He felt like he was floating, and suddenly realized that he was sitting sideways on a horse. "Elrond!" he exclaimed, as his memory returned.

Elrohir was startled when the younger elf abruptly woke, and he held onto him tighter. "Be calm, Legolas! Ada lives."

Legolas blinked slightly blurred eyes, looking towards Elladan, who held Elrond before him as they rode. The older elf was still unconscious, looking paler than Legolas remembered.

"We tended to his injury," Elrohir continued. "And yours."

Legolas could feel the stitches in his skin. "Hannon le," he said, sighing with relief that the twins had found them

Elladan and Elrohir both smiled.

********************

When Elrond woke, he awoke slowly, feeling very groggy. He wondered why his right side hurt, and he suddenly noticed voices around him.

"You should be in bed!" he heard.

"He refused," said a seemingly identical voice. "I tried to stop him, but you know how he is!"

"There is no reason why I cannot sit in this room rather than my own," said a third voice. "I wanted to see how he fares."

Elrond tried to open his eyes, and was relieved when he succeeded. He saw two identical faces smiling down at him, and incoherently thought for a second that his vision was doubled.

"He wakes!" Elladan exclaimed.

Legolas sat in the chair beside the bed; arm in a sling, face still pale. "How do you feel?"

Elrond blinked his eyes, the sight of Legolas' injury reminding him of their dangerous incident. "Fine."

The twins shook their heads, giving their father a skeptical look.

Before anyone could dispute his words, Elrond looked at Legolas. "And you?" he asked, frowning. "I do not remember what happened after treating your wound...?"

"You lost consciousness," Legolas told him. "Elladan and Elrohir soon arrived and tended us. I am fine, and you shall be also," he said with a smile. It had frightened him badly to see Elrond so wounded; it was a sight that he had not seen very often, despite their long lives.

"Hannon le," Elrond said to his sons. "You've done well."

The twins smiled back.

"You feel 'fine', you say?" said Elladan, studying his father. "And you, Legolas? Both of you are 'fine'?"

Elrond nodded, giving his son a wary look as Legolas chuckled. "Aye. I am quite fine."

"As am I," said Legolas.

Elrohir shook his head, crossing his arms and looking at his father. "I expected to hear that lie from Legolas, but I thought that you at least would know better!"

Elrond frowned, attempting to sit up. "I know when I am fine and when I am not."

Elladan and Elrohir both grabbed his arms, trying to keep him still.

Legolas suddenly chuckled. "He's acting just like us!"

"With only one difference," said Elrond, trying to hold in a wince. "I am in bed, and you are not."

Elrohir looked at Legolas, and pointed towards the door.

"It is only my shoulder," said Legolas, frowning. "I did not lose too much blood, and there is no poison. I am fully capable of being out of bed."

Elrond fixed the younger elf with as hard a stare as was possible in his current condition. "You are not," he said, taking in Legolas' pale features. Seeing that his son's attention wasn't on him for the moment, Elrond again tried to sit up, but gave a gasp when his wound sent more pain through his side than he expected.

Elrohir immediately grabbed his arm, to hold him still.

Legolas stood from his chair, and Elladan quickly walked closer, uncovering the wound.

Elrond's eyes were tightly closed, as he dealt with the pain.

Legolas frowned at the sight of the older elf's stitched stab wound. It was red-rimmed and ugly, but thankfully poison-free. None of the stitches had torn, but it was in a location where movement needed to be restricted in order for the stitches to properly hold.

"You won't be sitting up for a while, ada," said Elladan.

Elrond opened his eyes, upset to hear such words.

Elrohir retrieved some pain-killing herbs, and quickly mixed them with water. "Here," he said, handing it to Elladan. "This will help."

Elrond sniffed the contents before drinking, prepared to refuse if it contained a sleeping herb. When he saw that it didn't, he let his son assist him in drinking it. 

"Would you like some, Legolas?" Elrohir asked.

"No," said Legolas, unwisely shaking his head. Suddenly, the room spun and tilted, and he couldn't prevent the startled gasp that left his lips.

Elrohir reached out and caught him under the arms just as Legolas' knees buckled, causing the blond-haired elf to give a pained cry at the accidentally rough treatment dealt to his shoulder.

Elrond automatically moved to get out of the bed, his healer instincts taking over. His injury sent sharp stabs of pain through his side and he fell back again, unable to hold back his own pained cry.

Elrohir sat Legolas back down in his chair, sitting on the bed and gently holding the Mirkwood Prince steady until he fully regained his senses.

Elladan likewise grabbed his father by the shoulders and held him down in the bed, preventing further movement. He looked at his brother, who was shaking his head.

"Stubborn!" Elladan said. "Both of you! Are you now prepared to listen to reason?!" he exclaimed.

Legolas said nothing, clutching his shoulder as he tried to force back the grayness clouding his vision.

Elrond was likewise quiet, attempting the same.

Elladan, seeing that their father didn't plan to move again, mixed some of the painkilling herbs in a glass of water and handed it to Elrohir, who held it to Legolas' lips and forced him to drink it.

"Elrohir will be taking you to your room, Legolas," said Elladan. "Go with him peacefully or he shall carry you there!"

Legolas said nothing, giving the older twin a glare. It wasn't a hard look, as the Mirkwood Prince finally admitted—to himself, anyway—that he'd underestimated his condition.

Elrohir helped their friend out of the chair, and gently lead him from the room.

"And you," said Elladan, crossing his arms as he looked at his father. "You are not allowed to move. Go to sleep."

Elrond frowned, slightly put-out at being treated as a misbehaved elfling.

Elladan's face softened, and he sat in the now-empty chair. "I shall keep you company, ada," he said, taking his father's hand.

Elrond smiled, remembering when his children were elflings, and the small Elladan had always sought to hold his father's hand. He opened his mouth to reply, but a feeling of overwhelming fatigue suddenly overcame him. There was a sleeping herb in that drink! he realized.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep was the smirk on Elladan's face.

The End

LOL poor Elrond! Now he knows what it's like, lol! Thanks for reading! :)