Chapter 6, The Rescue

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!”

“I…I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to imply…”

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.

“Who goes first?” asked Legolas, again deferring to Elladan’s lead. 

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?

“Dan, what is it?”

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.

“Elladan!  Are you all right?”

“No.”

“No?  What?  What is wrong?” asked a suddenly alarmed Legolas.

“We…we can’t do this.”

“We can’t do what?”

“We can’t pull Elrohir through any more.”

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.

“Of course he will.  You did, after all.  He is no bigger than you.”

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?”

“Aye…I’m just thinking.”

“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...

“…do you think?!”

“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?’”

“Uhm…about what?”

“Elladan, were you even listening to me?” an annoyed Legolas demanded.

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!”

“But he can’t stay here,” protested Legolas.

“It would hurt his hands.”

“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.

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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.

“Celebrian, let me see him.”

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.

“Celebrian, you must let me take him.”

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!”

“Cel!”

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.”

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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?”

“My…my lord,” he stuttered, “I thought I was alone.”

“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.”

“You have done enough.  Elrohir has no need of you,” was the harsh response.

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. 

“My lord, please?”

“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. 

“Please?” Belmandren whispered.

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?”

“Why?”

“It would help.  I’m sure of it.  Please?”

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.

Heart thumping in anticipation, he called gently, “Elrohir?”

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.

Just then, the door flung open and Elladan burst through angrily.

“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.

“Beldrn”

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. 

Elrohir pouted and looked at his twin for help, “Dan?”

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.