Chapter 7, Apologies?

“Estel…”

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  His twin had been too sad and withdrawn to do much more than quietly thank them when he’d finally awoken.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…”

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.”

“So how is it that Elrohir forgave Belder?”

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.

“Nay, what Elrohir needs right now is Estel.”

“Estel?  But he…”

“Elladan, both your brothers need to see each other and talk things out.”

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.

“Estel, come here,” he ordered.

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. 

“Elladan, I do not think…”

“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.

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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.

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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.

“Estel, please just go.”

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.

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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.

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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.

“Did you find him?”

“Aye.”

“And…?”

“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.”

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