Chapter 8, Bitter Memory   [Part Three of Three]

(Elladan picks up his story from when he arrived back at the elven camp and was briefing the training master on the situation...)

“…and then instead of waiting at Brightfalls together, you left Elrohir?  Knowing our clear instructions are to stay together unless there are absolutely no other options?”

Training Master Calas’s question interrupted Elladan’s narration of events.  He’d been explaining what led him to return to camp early, without successfully completing his training task…and without his brother.  

Unthinking, the exhausted young elf ignored the tone in the master’s voice and responded abruptly, “Aye, as I just said.  But he wasn’t in any danger.  In fact, I expect he’s enjoying himself immensely, resting and feasting while I battled wind and rain in a race to find you.” 

“Are you saying you would prefer to be in his place?”

The master’s stronger tone, laced with warning, should have cautioned Elladan to tread lightly, but he was wet, tired beyond belief, his arm ached terribly, and for the moment his concern for his brother along with his better sense fled.  After he’d left Brightfalls, he’d run for the most of the first day, anxious to complete his mission and get Elrohir away from those odious men.  He’d finally stopped for the night and gone to sleep, pleased with his progress and eager to rest so he could get up the next morning and get to camp as soon as possible.  Bad weather had rolled in after midnight, however, and he woke up in the wee hours of the morning to cold rains and whipping wind.  

He completed the rest of his journey under wretched conditions.  Rivers of slick mud made the path treacherous and driving rain made it hard to see at times—a combination that considerably delayed his travel by more than a day and, moreover, caused the usually surefooted elf to slip numerous times.  He’d jarred his injured arm more than once when he’d fallen until it had become a constant, throbbing mass of pain.  

The resulting misery and lack of sleep twisted the anxiety he felt for his brother into resentment that Elrohir was waiting in comfort while he was forced to suffer.  In short, the earlier lesson he’d been certain he’d never forget—never let physical discomfort drive one’s temper—flew out of his mind and his response reflected his irritation.

“Would I have preferred to sit in a nice, dry room with plenty of food and drink rather than run through the forests for days on end in this infernal rain?  What do you think?  While I was practically swimming through mud, he was comfortable and warm.  He’s probably sitting there right now gloating, for he also knew I’d end up getting grilled when I got here.  Of course he has the easier task and he knows it, the stupid troll.”

Calas scowled darkly at his charge’s testy, bad-mannered tone.  He knew Elladan was stressed, tired, and injured, so he had been allowing the youth a little more freedom than normal to express himself.  But rudeness was simply not acceptable behavior for a warrior, regardless of his youth.

In harsh tones, Calas scolded, “A prisoner is a prisoner, no matter how gilded the cage.  Your brother is not to be envied.  And your manners are not befitting your position as either a young warrior or a lord.  You disgrace your father and your teachers with your behavior and would do well to guard your tongue, foolish elfling.”

Elladan’s jaw tightened.  Elfling?  How dare he?  No one called him ‘elfling.  Well, except for Glorfindel, but that was just teasing.  It was monumentally insulting for a training master to call a nearly graduated novice an elfling.  And complaining about his manners?  Anger clouded his features but before he could speak, he was cut off by Calas.

“Enough!  Do not even think of voicing what I see on your face.”

The angry rebuke delivered in the master’s most commanding voice finally cut through Elladan’s exhausted irritation and he closed his mouth with a snap.  At that moment, his brain caught up with his mouth and a little tingle of fear shivered down his back as he thought about what he’d been about to say.  What was he thinking?  The training masters demanded the novices’ utmost respect—respect they had earned—and his demeanor had been nothing short of rude.  Master Calas was right.  He was behaving disgracefully.  

He dropped his eyes for a moment, composing himself, then squared his shoulders and looked up into the master’s eyes.  He may be a stupid elfling, but he did know how to take responsibility for his actions, no matter how shameful they were.

“My sincere apologies Master Calas,” he said respectfully.  “I offer no excuses…you are right to call me a foolish elfling, as I was behaving as one.  I…you are also right that I would not wish to be held captive, under any circumstances and I…,” he sighed, “I am troubled about Elrohir.  I did not wish to leave him there.”  With his anger gone, he once again remembered how he’d felt leaving his twin with the unfriendly people of Brightfalls.  Valar, what was wrong with him?  Elrohir was not larking about, but a prisoner, subject to the whims of his captors.  Worry and remorse crept into his heart and he suddenly felt bone-weary.  “I am sorry,” he finished miserably with a deep sigh.

Calas saw his charge wilt and softened his expression as he regarded the young lord.  At times Elladan could behave rashly, but he was a good lad at heart.  Calas could never stay upset with him for long, especially now seeing how Elladan’s energy appeared to have flown with his temper and he seemed about to collapse.

“Come,” he said, “we will tend to your arm, find you a warm meal, and allow you to have a good night’s rest.  Then we shall leave tomorrow to fetch your brother.”

It sounded delightful, but having been reminded of his concern for his twin, Elladan couldn’t help but feel they should be heading back without delay.  

“Master Calas,” he said, “respectfully, should we not start the journey today?  It is not yet evening.”

Calas shook his head, “The foul weather would keep us from traveling any great distance this night.  And without proper rest, despite your desire to return quickly, you would delay us.  Nay.  Eat, rest, and before sunrise, we will be on our way.”

Elladan nodded his acquiescence.  He really did want to be starting back immediately, but was honestly thankful someone else was making the decisions.  Relieved of the burden of responsibility for retrieving his brother, he allowed himself the luxury of simply letting others take control.  He sat quietly while Calas rebandaged his arm, ate the meal placed in front of him without thinking, and then sunk into the blankets someone had kindly laid out for him.  He was asleep in moments.

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When Elladan awoke the next morning, he not only felt much better after a good night’s rest, but he also found a wonderful surprise awaiting him.  Glorfindel had arrived at their camp overnight.  The ancient warrior had always taken great joy in watching young ones progress towards becoming warriors, so if he wasn’t otherwise occupied, he made a point of celebrating with each group of junior novices as they completed their summer training.  The twins had been looking forward to his arrival and sharing their success with him, but in all the turmoil of the last few days, Elladan had honestly forgotten to expect him.  He was especially pleased when he learned that it would be Glorfindel accompanying him back to Brightfalls.  If anyone could fix things, he could.

The journey back to the human village was far more pleasant than Elladan’s trip to the elven camp.  The weather wasn’t any more cooperative, and in fact the trails were even more muddy and washed out than before, but being with Glorfindel made Elladan feel so much more optimistic about everything.  Simply having a companion made it all more bearable.  It reminded him just how fortunate he and Elrohir were to have each other—he pitied everyone who didn’t have a twin.

So despite the dismal weather, the pair arrived a few days later at Brightfalls with every confidence they would soon retrieve Elrohir and be done with the whole irritating affair.  

Their arrival was noted before they even entered the settlement and by the time they reached the center of Brightfalls, they were surrounded by a large group of interested townspeople.  At the front of the group was their Headman, Frank Tober.

“Greetings Master Elf,” he said formally, speaking to the tall warrior.  “I am Frank Tober, headman here, and I speak for all when I welcome you to Brightfalls.  I expect your young friend has explained the situation and trust we can come to a suitable arrangement quickly.

Glorfindel looked over the man who had had the audacity to imprison a young elven lord.  The man didn’t seem like a fool, but appearances could be deceiving.  Regardless, Glorfindel’s main concern was to see Elrohir and ensure his well-being—the man could be dealt with later.

“Greetings Master Tober,” responded Glorfindel politely.  “I thank you for your welcome and am also confident we can resolve any issues between us.  Before we discuss anything further, however, I would like to speak to Lord Elorhir.”

“Lord…?” began Frank, his confusion clear.

Glorfindel looked down at Elladan, who’d remained silently by his side.  Hadn’t the boy explained who they were?  When he saw how crossly Elladan was staring at the men, however, he decided not to ask.  Better not to give the boy any opening to voice his anger. 

Turning back to the headman, he explained, “I speak of the elven youth in your custody, of course.  Did he not tell you his name?”

“Of course,” answered Frank smoothly.  “His brother here did mention they were the sons of your lord.  I hadn’t considered they had their own titles as well.  My apologies.  It was not my intent to offend you.”

Glorfindel nodded politely, impressed with the man’s easy manner despite himself.  The headman may not have been wise when he decided to lock up an elf, but it was clear he wasn’t stupid either.  He hoped that didn’t indicate the misunderstanding had honestly been the twins’ fault.  He’d have to find out more details later.  For now however…

“Titles aside, I do need to see the boy before anything else.  You understand his well-being is my top priority.”

Frank smiled pleasantly.  “Naturally.  If you both will follow me, I will take you to him.”

The man waited for the elves to join him, then he turned and started through the crowd of villagers, who parted for the trio to walk through.  They walked in silence through the village until they reached, and then passed, the small building where Elladan had left his brother.

“Excuse me,” he said, a touch of concern in his voice.  “But isn’t this the storeroom where you said you would hold my brother?  Is he not here?”

Frank stopped and looked at it briefly.  “Well, yes,” he answered.  “This was where I’d planned to hold him.  However, due to the rains several of our farmers chose to bring in some crops early and we had need of the storage space.  We found we needed to move your brother, but he’s been kept safe and comfortable in another storage area.  We have many rooms carved out of the caves that run through the hillsides that we use for longer term storage and it is there he has been awaiting your return.  

Elladan frowned when he heard Elrohir had been kept in a cave.  Despite the assurances of the man, he didn’t trust any of these nasty people to keep his brother safe, especially in a cave.  Didn’t they know elves do not belong underground?  Scowling darkly, he followed the man and Glorfindel to the outskirts of town and then through a set of heavy doors guarding the entrance to a tunnel-like opening in the hillside.  

Some of the villagers must have run ahead, for several of them were waiting at the entrance with a lit torch and a set of keys.  They were handed to the headman with some murmured words that the elves couldn’t hear, and then Master Tober called for the elves to follow him.  The other villagers stayed behind while the elves walked into the dark dampness, following the flickering torchlight to their missing loved one.

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As the trio descended deeper into the underground labyrinth of storage chambers, Elladan’s sense of an undefined wrongness began to fill him, his whole body tightening with anxiety.  It wasn’t that he could feel through his connection with his twin that there was something wrong...rather, it was that he couldn’t feel anything.  Not good, not bad, just...nothing.  Elladan knew that distance affected how much he and Elrohir could sense from each other so that had not troubled him overly before, but now that he was closing in on his brother, the emptiness was starting to scare him.  Badly.  Something wasn’t right. 

Elladan was aching to just push past the unhurried headman and sprint ahead as they made their way deeper, but he didn’t know where to go.  His usual sense of “Elrohir is this way” was missing, forcing him to wait impatiently for the man to lead the way.

Finally, after endless turns down endless passages, they stopped in a dead-end alcove facing a large, solid door.  A heavy lock prevented Elladan from yanking it open, so instead he pushed past the headman and pounded on it loudly.  

“Ro!  Ro, are you there?” he shouted as he continued to bang the door with his fist.  “It’s Elladan.  I’m back.  Elrohir, answer me!”

Even with the keen hearing of elves, he couldn’t detect any noise from behind the door and so he hammered it again, shouting for his brother, “Elrohir!”

A tiny, sane part of Elladan wondered if he was overreacting, but that didn’t stop him from changing tactics and he slammed into the door with his shoulder again and again, desperate to get inside.  Logic tried to tell him he had no proof that his twin was in any distress.  The headman didn’t seem in any way sinister and the men of Brightfalls would have had no reason to harm Elrohir, especially if they were hoping for some kind of recompense for the dog.  But Elladan’s rational side wasn’t directing his actions.  He was almost choking with the certainty that his brother was in serious trouble and needed him...now!  He’d only felt this way once before—when Elrohir had been lost in that horrid cave when they’d been small.  It was that same sense of fear, hurt, and horror he had prayed to never again associate with his twin.  He HAD to get through that door.

It was only when a hand grabbed his shoulder and caught him before he injured himself that he realized Glorfindel had been trying to talk to him.

“Elladan, stand back and allow Master Tober to open the lock,” Glorfindel said slowly, making sure that the young elf understood him before letting him go.

Elladan nodded jerkily, and moved away from the door, the pure adrenaline running through his body making it hard to stand aside and wait for the headman to turn the key and pull open the door.

Glorfindel grabbed Elladan’s arm before he could dash into the room, not knowing what they might be facing.  He didn’t expect Elladan to fight him, however, and when the young elf elbowed his midsection with vicious precision and kicked his shin, he loosened his grip with an oath and the nimble youngster pulled away and slipped into the inky darkness.

“Give me the torch,” Glorfindel barked as he pulled it away from Headman Tober, rushing in after Elladan.  It was bad enough to fear something was wrong with Elrohir, but he wasn’t about to let anything happen to the elder twin as well.

When the light penetrated the gloom, the scene wasn’t what they’d been prepared for.  With Elladan’s obvious alarm, both the elves had expected Elrohir to be in peril and were ready to rescue him from whatever evil threatened him.  But the reality showed nothing even remotely menacing in the room.  Elrohir was simply sitting back against a large crate situated in the middle of the room, blinking against the torchlight as they entered.

Glorfindel barely kept himself from running into Elladan’s back when the younger elf stopped abruptly.  

“Huh...” said Elladan, in surprise and relief, glancing over his shoulder at Glorfindel.  Embarrassed, he added, “Um, he’s all right.”

Elladan turned back to his twin and said, “I’m sorry I took so long.  Bad weather delayed us.  I hope that you...you….…...Ro?”

He paused when he realized that his twin hadn’t moved at all and instead of looking at him, Elrohir was staring ahead at nothing.

“Ro?” he said again when his twin didn’t even blink.  When that again resulted in no change, he cautiously moved forward and crouched down, gently touching Elrohir’s arm in an attempt to gain his attention.  “Elrohir...”

The reaction was instantaneous, Elrohir pulled his arm sharply away from Elladan and slammed back against the crate, kicking out with his feet at the same time and growling, “No!”

Elladan’s head whipped back when the kick caught him on the cheek.  Reeling, he fell off-balance and squeaked out, “Glorfindel...” sounding more like a scared child than he had in decades, but he didn’t care...didn’t even notice.  He was scared—something was terribly wrong.

Glorfindel knelt quickly by Elladan, taking the youngster’s chin in his hands to inspect the damage.  Elladan’s cheek was already bruising and his eyes were full of tears, but Glorfindel wasn’t sure if it was due to pain or fear for his twin.   

“Glorfindel…” said the young elf again, pleading, and this time the warrior was certain—Elladan wasn’t even thinking of his own injury—he was terrified for his brother.

With a light caress on Elladan’s uninjured cheek,  Glorfindel turned away and crouched down in front of Elrohir, staying far enough back so the youth wouldn’t feel threatened.  Glorfindel felt his heart sink in dismay as he regarded his charge.  The flickering light of the torch had masked what he could see clearly now that he was right in front of Elrohir—his hair was unkempt, his face bruised and smeared with dirt and traces of blood, and who knew what his tunic was hiding.  But what really worried Glorfindel was the look he saw in Elrohir’s eyes.  It was a hint of a wild, lost look he’d seen in those who were overwhelmed by an ordeal they couldn’t handle—it alarmed him to see it even a trace of it in the eyes of this beloved young elf.

“Elrohir, it’s Glorfindel,” he said gently.  “I won’t hurt you.  I promise.  May I please come closer?”

The cinch around his heart began to loosen when Elrohir turned his head to look at him, but when there was no recognition in his eyes and his lips curled in a snarl, Glorfindel felt it constrict again.  Swallowing his fear, he tried again, “I promise, I am here to help.  Please, may I come closer?”

A flicker of something passed through Elrohir’s eyes but it was clear the elf wasn’t hearing him.  For a moment it had looked like Elrohir had understood him and his eyes had lightened, but then the glimpse of rationality melted into pure hostility.  Glorfindel choked back the spreading fear he felt in his own heart.  He had seen the devastating result of too much trauma and wasn’t prepared to face it in Elrohir.  He’d expected the boy to be grumpy after days of confinement, perhaps hungry if he hadn’t eaten well, but that was it.  He’d never even considered that Elrohir had faced any real danger.  What could have happened?

A scuffling sound to his right drew Glorfindel’s attention and he saw Elladan, obviously still very upset, inching towards his brother.

Holding a hand up to stop Elladan’s movements, Glorfindel looked back to Elrohir and then slowly shifted forward himself, reaching out an upturned hand and trying not to frighten the obviously distressed young elf.  He hesitated before touching Elrohir, stilling himself in order not to spook him.

“Elrohir,” he said, with as much love as he could put in his voice, “I’d like to take you out of here now.  Would you please take my hand so I can help you up?”

Glorfindel held his breath while Elrohir stared back at him, revealing nothing.  After long moments when neither of them even blinked, Glorfindel slowly inched his hand forward, looking for any sign of recognition in Elrohir.  Suddenly Elrohir burst into movement, his feet scrambling against the floor ineffectively as he frantically tried to press further back into the crate, a low keening sound coming from his lips.

Instinctively, Glorfindel moved towards Elrohir rather than away from him.  He’d comforted both twins as children when they were frightened, and every fiber of his being wanted to wrap Elrohir in his arms until the youth felt safe.

Before Glorfindel could touch him, though, Elrohir let out an unintelligible scream and kicked out at the approaching elf.

Unused to feeling so utterly out of control of a situation, Glorfindel drew sharply back, afraid to make things any worse.  Once he’d moved a safe distance away, Elrohir again stilled, although he now kept his eyes shifting around warily to each of the others in the room.

Glorfindel shook himself mentally.  He’d been unprepared to find the young elf in this condition and was letting his love for the boy keep him from thinking clearly.  Forcing himself to calmly assess the situation, he debated his next move.   

Keeping his voice low and calm, he addressed the headman, who’d been unmoving since they’d entered the room, “Master Tober, please explain.  Why is Elrohir in this state?  What has happened to him?”

Frank Tober swallowed audibly.  He was a big, powerful man, leader of his people and unafraid of most things, but right now he was horrified at what he saw.  He’d not personally checked on the young elf since they’d moved him and had no idea anything had happened to the boy.  Not only was he keenly aware of how this may affect his village’s relations with the elves, but he felt genuine concern for the elven youth who had been left in his care.

“I don’t know,” Frank said as evenly as his racing heart would allow.  “I believed him to be well and in no danger.  These tunnels are used only by our people for storage.  I…I cannot understand this.”

“Find out.  Now,” ordered the elven warrior, the fact that he was crouching on the ground and spoke the words calmly in no way diminishing the obvious power behind the order.

“I…Yes.  Yes, of course.  I will return momentarily with Pedar.  He is responsible for the tunnels and will know what happened,” said Frank, grateful for an excuse to get away for a few minutes and collect his own thoughts.

After Frank left, the room was silent, the occupants unmoving and unspeaking until a quiet whisper broke through.

“Glorfindel…”

Deciding it was safe for the moment to see to Elladan, Glorfindel slowly took his eyes off Elrohir and turned to the elder twin.  Elladan’s cheek was a dark red where he’d been kicked and his eyes were wide and frightened. 

With his mentor’s attention on him, Elladan continued to whisper, “What’s wrong with him?  He’s so angry.  Is he like this because of me?  Is he still mad at me?”

Glorfindel’s sympathy went out to Elladan.  The boy had been blaming himself for leaving Elrohir behind in the first place—finding his brother in such a bad state would only make him feel worse.  But it was clear Elrohir’s condition was the result of more than petty squabbling with his brother.  

Hurting inside for both his charges, Glorfindel answered in a low, purposeful voice, “I do not know what ails him, but I do know his actions are not directed at you.  I do not believe he even knows us.  Perhaps he is lashing out because he does not feel safe.”

“But I don’t understand,” Elladan said in a very small voice, his fear bleeding into his words.  “Why not?  Nothing here will hurt him.  I won’t hurt him…” 

Striving to project confidence, Glorfindel again responded in a low voice, “I know you won’t hurt him.  And if Elrohir was fully aware of us, he would know that as well.  I am certain he will feel better once we remove him from this place.  Perhaps once he feels he is safe again, he will come back to us and in no time the two of you will once again be plotting mischief against your poor training masters.”

Elladan tried to smile at Glorfindel’s attempt at levity, but failed miserably.  He’d caused the rift between himself and his twin to begin with and, despite what Glorfindel said, he knew everything that had happened since then, including his brother’s current distress, was his fault.    

Glorfindel reached over and squeezed Elladan’s shoulder gently.  “He will be fine,” he assured quietly, hoping to believe it himself.  

For the next several minutes the three elves sat quietly, each lost in his own thoughts, Elrohir keeping pressed against the crate, Glorfindel kneeling several feet away from him, and Elladan sitting off to the side.  All three were startled when the headman returned with another human, presumably the man responsible for the storage tunnels.

“Master elf,” said Frank, “this is Pedar.  He controls these tunnels and will answer your questions regarding your young friend.”

Frank tried to speak with calm authority…after all, he was the headman here…but his voice cracked slightly at the end and he tensed as he waited for the elven warrior to speak.  He’d attempted to get answers from Pedar as they were walking back, but hadn’t been satisfied with what he’d heard.  

He’d given strict instructions that the boy was to be kept under lock and key, but treated courteously.  Pedar, however, told him the youth had been trouble from the moment he’d been brought down and was completely uncooperative.  They gave him food, but he’d thrown it against the wall.  He’d fought tooth and nail to escape every time the door was opened.  He’d yelled himself hoarse, screaming at his captors to let him out.  In short, the elf had behaved so appallingly that the men had finally just left him alone.  Frank believed there were elements of truth in Pedar’s account, but it didn’t explain at all why the boy appeared, for lack of a better term, traumatized.  He just hoped Pedar wasn’t hiding something that would prove his people had mistreated the young elf. 

Glorfindel, who’d stood when the men entered, turned back to Elladan and said softly, “Elladan, move near your brother, but very slowly and do not touch him.  I want you to speak quietly to him and keep his attention.  Keep him calm.  I must go out into the corridor and speak with these men, but I do not want him wondering what we’re doing and become distressed.  Now go ahead but no sudden moves.  Don’t spook him.  He’s frightened enough.” 

Frightened?  Elladan looked at Glorfindel and then back at Elrohir.  From the glare the younger twin was shooting back at him, he didn’t look scared—he looked wildly angry.  Elladan didn’t care to argue the distinction, though.  Right now, it really didn’t matter.  He would do whatever Glorfindel said, trusting him to know what to do.  Nodding to acknowledge the instructions, Elladan slowly moved forward and knelt several feet away from his brother, trying to keep his voice even and low as he murmured softly, hoping to somehow to connect with his twin.

Talking about anything he could think of, he kept up a steady stream of meaningless conversation while Glorfindel and the men stepped out of the room.

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Once he was fully in the corridor, Glorfindel regarded the two men coldly.  He was glad he wasn’t a hot-headed youngster anymore, because he was certain he couldn’t have contained his anger without the self-control he’d gained over the millennia.  These…men…were somehow responsible for Elrohir’s condition and he dearly wanted to make them pay.  The priority, though, was to find out what happened to him—there would be time enough later to deal with the men if necessary.

“You were responsible for Lord Elrohir’s care?” he asked, emphasizing the title.

Pedar, who had been in charge of the tunnels for over a decade, was not impressed.  Did this elf really think he cared who the boy was?  An elf was an elf—besides, he’d done his duty.  The boy had been fed, given water.  It wasn’t his fault if the idiot had thrown it away.

“You mean the elf boy?” he asked, dismissively.  “Aye.  I took care of him.  Not that he showed proper gratitude.  Don’t teach your young ones much manners, do you?”

Not even a twitch betrayed Glorfindel’s desire to backhand the man.  For now, at least, he was going to keep this civil.  He needed to understand Elrohir’s condition.  Afterwards, well, afterwards was another story.  “His manners are not your concern.  His condition, however, is mine,” he said flatly.  “Can you explain why he is not well?”

Pedar looked at his headman, waiting for him to put the elf in his place.  They didn’t owe the elves an explanation or anything else.  It was their stupid brat who’d started the whole thing by killing one of their hunting dogs, after all.  When Frank mouthed frantically, “answer him!,” Pedar rolled his eyes in disgust.  Brightfalls didn’t need a gutless weakling as headman.  Maybe he should start planting suggestions that Tober needed to be replaced.  When Frank mouthed, “answer!” again, Pedar grimaced.  Fine.  He’d tell the elf what happened.  Then maybe they’d leave and he’d be done with the whole stinkin’ lot of them! 

Sighing out loud, he turned back to the elf and said, “He’s ‘not well’ because he’s a brat who doesn’t know how to behave himself.  From the moment we put him down here he’s been nothing but trouble.  We give him food…good stuff too…and he doesn’t touch it—throws it against the wall.  We give him a torch, and he throws that too.  He screams at us when we come in.  He screams at us when we leave.  He tries to escape.  Even hit poor Quinn over the head and then ran off—almost made to the mouth of the caverns before we caught him.  So he got what he deserved.”

Glorfindel frowned.  If what the man was saying was true, then Elrohir was acting very out of character.  He was the kind of child who’d always made a special effort to behave, even into his adolescence.  It made no sense that the boy would create trouble without cause.

“Did he say anything to you?  Did something upset him?” asked Glorfindel, trying to understand.

“Sure he said something,” said Pedar sarcastically.  “Didn’t I just tell you he screamed at us all the time?  He wanted out.  Didn’t like to be locked up.  Didn’t like the dark.  Well that’s too bad.  Shouldn’t have killed our dog.  Needs to learn to take punishment like a man…even if he is an elf.  Like I said, he got no worse that he deserved.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” broke in Frank hastily.  “We did not intend harm to come to the lad.  You must believe me.  There is nothing here that could hurt him.  We just didn’t realize your youth are mentally fragile.”

“Mentally fragile?” growled Glorfindel as his face flushed red.  It wasn’t bad enough that something had hurt Elrohir, but now they insult his young lord.  He’d had enough of this nonsense.  With a look on his face that would terrify the hardiest of souls, Glorfindel addressed the headman, “Clearly something happened for I assure you he is not ‘mentally fragile.’ He was mistreated and I want to know how.  Now!”  

Turning to Pedar, Glorfindel continued, “And you, you pathetic little man, you will keep your witless opinions to yourself.  Lord Elrohir is a brave, strong young warrior and has more mental fortitude than most.  Simply locking him in the dark would not cause his current state.”  Enunciating each word clearly and with obvious warning, Glorfindel finished, “So…what…did…you…do…to him?”

Under the elf’s menacing gaze, Pedar swallowed hard, finally catching on that the elf could actually be dangerous.

“Uh…I thought elves can see in the dark.  And…and locking him up wasn’t my idea.  He was a prisoner.  I didn’t do anything wrong,” he insisted.

Still towering over the man, Glorfindel snarled, “Our eyes adjust better to conditions without much light, but we still need some to see.  But that doesn’t explain his condition.  So…help me understand,” he finished menacingly.

“Well…” stammered Pedar, “he, uh…he may have a few bruises from when he tried to escape.  We didn’t have a choice but to rough him up a little bit since he kept fighting us.   And, uhm…well…uh…we had to make sure he didn’t sneak up on us again like he did Quinn, so we put a cuff on him.  He fussed a lot about that, but by then he was just speaking that elf talk and we couldn’t understand him anyway.  That was his fault, you know.  We had to do that because he kept trying to get away.”

Frank was sure he felt his blood freeze when he realized what the idiot Pedar had just implied.  Reading between the lines, he realized the elven boy had been beaten, chained, left in pitch blackness…Frank felt ill.  There was no way he could salvage his people’s good relationship with the elves now.  Oh why had he listened to his son in the first place?  He wasn’t even sure anymore if Benny had been telling the truth.  He’d felt pressured to support his son in front of his people, but in hindsight he’d handled the whole situation poorly.  He should never have kept the elf captive, even if he’d thought the boy would be well treated.  What a disaster.

Unconcerned with Frank’s inner turmoil, Glorfindel was almost choking with rage.  Chains?  An elven lord had been put in chains?  Moreover, his beloved young elven lord?  Suddenly he didn’t care about the ‘why’ or the ‘how’ anymore.  Regardless of what had happened to Elrohir, he knew he had to get him out.  Now.  He would deal with the consequences later and determine how to heal whatever was wrong.   But he was going to take both the twins away from this horrid dark place and out into the fresh air again. 

Not bothering to speak further to the men, Glorfindel shoved them both aside and slammed the door fully open, only remembering too late that might not have been smart considering Elrohir’s skittishness.

Sure enough, the younger twin shrunk back when Glorfindel strode in the room, which halted the warrior in his tracks.  Glorfindel bit back a curse at his own stupidity and turned to the men, who were still standing out in the hallway.

“Get that thing off of him now,” he hissed.

Elladan, wide-eyed at Glorfindel’s loud entrance and obvious fury looked sharply at him, then to Elrohir, and finally back at Glorfindel, “Wha…?” he began before he was cut off by Glorfindel’s repeated growl, “Get it off him, NOW.”

It would have been funny to watch the two men practically falling over each other trying to get back into the room if it wasn’t for the thick tension surrounding everyone.  

“Pedar, the key,” demanded Frank in a voice that quavered just slightly.

When the key was placed in Frank’s hand, he started to kneel next to Elrohir but was pulled back by a strong hand. 

“No.  Stay away from him,” snapped Glorfindel as he snatched the key away from the man.  “You’ve done enough.”

“Elladan,” he began in a harsh voice before stopping himself.  No need to upset the twins any more than they already were.  “Elladan,” he said again, in a carefully controlled tone, “it appears your brother is chained.  We need to remove the chains and get him out of here.  We will deal with whatever ails him once we are away from this wretched place.”

“Chains?” asked Elladan, appalled, “I didn’t see…” but then he hesitated.  Now that he was looking for it, he saw how Elrohir’s right arm had remained behind him the whole time.  He also realized that a clinking sound he’d heard earlier wasn’t Elrohir simply bumping up against something, but must have been chains holding his brother.  Heat infused his face as he was filled with a fury akin to Glorfindel’s.  How dare they?  Elrohir had volunteered to stay.  Chaining him like an animal was an abomination.

“How should we do this?” he asked tightly, his fears disappearing with the anger and need to do something.

“I hold his arms.  You take the key and free him.  I carry him out of here,” said Glorfindel succinctly.

Elladan appreciated the no-nonsense, clear orders and nodded to indicate his understanding.  They both wanted to get Elrohir away from this nightmare immediately.

Glorfindel didn’t give Elrohir any time to be frightened or fight back.  Instead of distracting him or approaching him slowly, he leapt at the young elf and had him pinned before Elrohir could even see the threat.

It didn’t mean the younger twin didn’t fight, however.  He put up a panicked, but brief struggle before he collapsed limply in his mentor’s arms.

With Elrohir subdued, Elladan swiftly moved forward and grabbed his brother’s right arm and pulled it forward, dragging a chain with it.  It was attached to a ring on the floor which had effectively kept Elrohir pinned in place, unable to move away from the center of the room.  Elladan nearly dropped his brother’s arm in horror when he saw the damage done.  Elrohir’s wrist was swollen to the point that the metal shackle bit into the skin—the blood crusted around it a sign of fierce struggles he endured to free himself.  It was hot to the touch and Elladan couldn’t imagine how much it must be hurting.  He grimaced as he tried to hold it as gently as possible so as to not cause further injury while he unlocked the shackle.

Elrohir appeared oblivious to Elladan’s efforts until his brother pulled the metal from where it was embedded in his wrist.  A small sound of pain escaped his lips, causing Elladan to wince himself in pain.  It was soon done, though, and the chain dropped to the floor with a loud ‘clank!’

Elrohir startled with the noise and once again began to struggle.  “No…” he murmured plaintively.

“Shhh, you’re safe.  I have you,” said Glorfindel softly in his ear.  

The pinned elf continued to thrash weakly while Glorfindel kept trying to quiet him.  It didn’t seem like he was getting through, but after a few minutes Elladan reached over and touched his brother’s arm, adding his own soothing pleas, and Elrohir finally stilled.  His eyes drifted over them both dazedly, then he closed them and sighed softly.

Elladan and Glorfindel shared a look, not sure if this latest development was a good or bad sign.

“Elrohir?” asked Glorfindel gently, hoping for a reaction.

When his brother didn’t respond, Elladan whispered, “Should we just leave now?” 

After just a moment’s contemplation, Glorfindel nodded and stood, still holding Elrohir in his arms.  “Aye, I’ve had enough of this place and I’m confident I can say the same for Elrohir.  We will try to reach him again once we’re outside.”

The elves began to walk to the door, but were stopped when Pedar stood in their way.

“Frank,” he said, addressing the silent headman, “You’re just going to let them leave?  What about Benny’s dog?”

Frank actually gasped at the stupidity of the man.  Given the condition of the elven youth, compensation for the dog was the farthest thing from his thoughts.

“Pedar, move!” he said angrily.  The last thing he wanted was to upset the elves further.  When Pedar,who had apparently forgotten how frightened he'd been by the elven warrior only minutes before, just looked at him, Frank literally shoved him aside.

“My apologies Master Elf,” the headman said.  “Please…if you wish to take your young one out, we will follow you and can discuss things further outside.”

Glorfindel tightened his hold on Elrohir and walked out, not bothering to acknowledge either in an attempt to control his anger.

----------------------

In short order, the group reached the outside of the caves.  Everyone was pleased to see the rain had stopped and there was actually a touch of sun breaking through the clouds.  After the oppressing gloom of the caves, the sunlight was a welcome change.

Glorfindel’s first desire once they were out in the sun was to put Elrohir down and assess his condition, but when a crowd started to form around the elves, he decided a little privacy was in order.

“Master Tober, is there somewhere quiet I can take Lord Elrohir to care for him?” he asked.

Frank, disliking the way the crowd was gawking at the elves himself, nodded immediately, “Of course.  My home is just around the corner.  You are welcome to use it as long as you need.  Come this way.  Pedar, you too.  I want you there in case they have more questions.”

Frank, after receiving a nod of agreement from Glorfindel, strode off in the direction of his home, followed by the elves and Pedar.

His home was a modest structure built around a central courtyard paved with river stones.  It was there that Glorfindel stopped and knelt down.

“Master Elf,” protested Frank, “Please, you are welcome to use my bed indoors for your young one.  It is far more comfortable than the hard ground.”

Glorfindel breathed in deeply before answering.  He was still sickened by these men for allowing Elrohir to be abused, but was also aware that the headman was not an inherently evil man.

“Thank you,” he said finally.  “But we would prefer to be in the sun for now.  I would appreciate some fresh water, however.”

“Of course,” murmured Frank, who quickly brought the water as well as a blanket upon which to place the injured elf.  He then withdrew to the edge of the courtyard, hovering close enough to be available if needed, but out of the way.  He motioned to Pedar to join him and the two men stood silently as the elves tended to Elrohir.

Glorfindel laid Elrohir down on the blanket, placing his head in Elladan’s lap and then used the water and a cloth to clean off the boy’s face.  As the grime was washed away, Elrohir began to stir.  

“Shhh, easy,” murmured Glorfindel as Elladan added his own soothing sounds.

Perhaps it was the sun, the fresh air, or the sounds of beloved voices that finally penetrated the darkness, but something brought him back around and he deeply inhaled before opening his eyes.  This time he didn’t struggle, but instead lay there quietly.  In fact, it was Elladan who gasped suddenly.

“Elladan?” asked Glorfindel.

“He’s here.  I can…he…he’s…….Elrohir?” stuttered Elladan incoherently, staring at his twin.

Fortunately, Glorfindel had plenty of experience deciphering the way the twins’ minds worked and understood what Elladan meant—somehow, the bond between the two had been restored.  It was undoubtedly a very good sign.

Turning to Elrohir himself, he ran his hand gently over the young elf’s head.

“Elrohir, how are you lad?” he asked quietly.

Elrohir twisted slowly in Elladan’s arms and looked up.  He blinked several times and then said wearily, “Glorfindel?” His eyes shifted to his twin.  “Elladan?”

A tremendous weight lifted off his companions’ shoulders as they saw true recognition in Elrohir’s eyes.  

Glorfindel gave him a brilliant smile.  “Aye, lad.  It’s alright.  You’re safe.”

“But where…what…”  Confusion clouded Elrohir’s eyes as he tried to put together what was happening.  Why was he lying in Elladan’s arms?  Why were his brother’s eyes suspiciously bright?  Elladan never cried.  His eyes darted around.  What was this place?  Why was he here?  What was wrong with him?  Then his gaze landed on the men, hovering in the corner of the courtyard.

Elrohir stiffened and found it hard to breathe.  Now he remembered where he was.  “We need to leave,” he choked out.  “We can’t stay.  They’re here.  They’ll get us.  Please.  We need to go.”

Elladan, who’d been overjoyed when Elrohir had snapped out of whatever fog he’d been in, grew concerned when he saw panic overtaking his brother once again.  He squeezed Elrohir’s arm and tried to get his attention.

“Ro, it’s alright.  We’re all fine.  Glorfindel won’t let anything get us.  Please.  Be calm.  Those men will not hurt you.”

Elrohir’s eyes filled with fear, now not just for himself.  “No.  Not them.”  He looked around wildly and continued, “They’re here.  This place is crawling with them.  Didn’t you see them?  We need to go.  Please…”

Glorfindel and Elladan around with confusion, half expecting to see something lurking in the shadows, but found nothing.  Something clearly had scared Elrohir, but since the men didn’t seem concerned, they couldn’t imagine what it was.

The men, who hadn’t followed the conversation since it had been in the elven tongue, noticed the young elf becoming agitated.

“Ugh.  He’s fussing about those rats again, isn’t he?” asked Pedar in disgust.  “I kept telling him they wouldn’t bother him.”

Glorfindel, Elladan, and Frank’s heads all whipped to Pedar in unison, as if controlled by a master puppeteer.

“Rats?” Elladan gasped before the others could say anything.  “There were rats in the cave?  You left him chained in a dark cave with rats?”  His increasingly loud voice reflected his appalled horror.

“T’weren’t big ones,” scoffed Pedar indignantly, not at all intimidated by the young elf’s dark, angry look.  Honestly, the elves were making a fuss over some little rodents.  Besides, it was the dim-witted prisoner’s fault that he kept the rats stirred up by yelling and throwing things around.  Stupidly, he voiced his contempt, “If he hadn’t hollered so much, they’d have left him alone.  Our boys aren’t bothered by them at all.”

Frank grabbed Pedar’s sleeve and yanked him around and hissed,  “Silence, you fool!  You wish to bring the wrath of the entire elven nation down upon our heads?”

Pedar jerked his sleeve away from Frank but wisely kept his mouth shut.  He may not be intimidated by the young elf, but he knew better than to make Frank really mad—or, come to think of it—the elven warrior who had appeared so fearsome in the cavern.

Glorfindel and Elladan couldn’t have cared less about the men, however, as they turned back to Elrohir, horrified at the implications.  They were both intimately aware of Elrohir’s reaction to rats and weren’t sure what they could say that wouldn’t remind him of things best forgotten.  

Their quandary was resolved when Elrohir himself began to speak.

“They’re everywhere.  This place crawls with them.  I tried to ignore them.  I really did,” he said, clutching Elladan’s arm tightly as he remembered.  “I tried to be strong, make everyone proud of me, but I couldn’t.  I’m so sorry,” he finished, turning his head into his brother’s side in shame.

“Elrohir, lad…” began Glorfindel while Elladan said, “Ro, it’s all right.”

“NO!” shouted Elrohir as he turned his head back to look at them.  “It’s not all right.  I shamed you all.  I tried not to, but I did.  I went into the cave room without a fuss.  Really.  And I tried not to trouble anyone.  I tried.  But then they came.  I ignored them at first.  Pretended they weren’t there.  But the man brought food and then they wouldn’t leave me alone.  I threw it away from me, and they went after it, but when it was gone, they came back.  I threw the torch at them, but it only scared them away for awhile.  I asked the man to let me out, but…but I was wrong to ask for he struck me and struck me to make me be still.  And when I woke up, they were there…on me.  At my feet, on my legs, on my…my neck.  I…I…then I……when he came back I begged him to let me out.  I know it was weak, but I couldn’t…I didn’t…I….”.  

Nearly hyperventilating, Elrohir twisted in his brother’s arms until his head was again buried in Elladan’s embrace.  

Elladan gripped his twin in a fierce, protective hold.  That these men would force his brother to relive his personal nightmare left him practically choking with sorrow and rage and a hundred other emotions he couldn’t even name.  

“Ro…,” the name broke from his lips, filled with anguish for his brother.  “Please…” he didn’t even know what he was asking for, but Elladan was aching to reach out and take some of the hurt and sorrow into himself.  “Please…don’t,” he whispered.

Elrohir heard, though, and shook his head.  “You don’t understand,” he said lowly, shame evident in his voice.  “I dishonored myself, father, you, everyone.  I tried to escape.  I said I would remain with them but I tried to get away.  I had to get out.  But I failed even at that.  They dragged me back and put a chain on me.”  He closed his eyes and whispered, “I am so sorry.”

Tears finally spilled out of Elladan’s eyes when he looked at Glorfindel, who had been silently listening to the boys.  “He shouldn’t be sorry,” he said, firm despite his tears.  “And he shamed no one.”

“Elladan…” began Glorfindel, only to be interrupted.

“No!” shouted Elladan angrily.  “He shouldn’t be sorry.  He did nothing wrong.  Didn’t you hear?  They beat him senseless.  He said they struck him to keep him quiet and then later he woke up.  He asked to be moved and they wouldn’t listen—instead they beat him.  And he woke up with rats crawling on him.  It was only after that he tried to get away.  And when he did, they chained him like an animal, leaving him no escape.  Do you think they were gentle when they did that?  And did you see his wrist?  Clearly broken.  How he must have suffered, rats crawling over him, unable to get away, not able to see…I’d wager he hasn’t even slept since he woke up with those filthy beasts on him.  He wouldn’t.  And now you think he shamed us?  How could you?”

“Elladan!  Stop!” shouted Glorfindel, finally cutting off the young elf’s tirade.  “I do not believe he dishonored anyone.”  He shook his head and added with utter conviction, “My dear child, never think that.  No one would respond well to what he experienced.  I do not blame him for his reaction.  My word as a warrior.”

Elladan took a shuddering breath before giving Glorfindel a quick nod as he got himself back under control.  He supposed maybe he had been a little overzealous in his defense of his brother.  He was glad, though, to know he wasn’t alone in thinking Elrohir wasn’t to blame for his reaction to unexpectedly awful events. 

The younger twin wasn’t feeling any better about things, however.  The entire time Elladan and Glorfindel had been discussing him, Elrohir had lain quietly, shrouded in misery.  He was aware enough of what the others were saying to understand his brother’s fierce defense of him and Glorfindel’s equally clear avowal of support.  Nevertheless, it didn’t lessen his own sense of mortification.  They hadn’t been there.  They hadn’t seen how he’d sacrificed his pride to ask the men to be moved.  They hadn’t witnessed his descent into primitive reactions to the world around him when he’d awoken to a pounding headache, covered in scrapes and bruises, staring into the face of a rat, feeling more scampering over him.  They hadn’t heard him begging the men to get him away from the foul creatures, finally screaming when they’d locked him away in the dark with them.  They hadn’t felt how he’d slipped into a semi-aware state so he wouldn’t have to face his nightmare.  They didn’t know.

He cradled his right wrist with his other hand and curled as tightly as he could into his brother’s protective shield.  He feared their reaction once they understood how weak he’d been, but for now he couldn’t resist the sanctuary of his twin’s arms. 

Elladan bent his head down and gave his brother another strong hug.  He so very much wished he could take away the pain that was almost visibly rolling off Elrohir in waves.

“Glorfindel, what can I do to help him?” he asked anxiously when he raised his head.

The elder elf smiled in encouragement.  “You are doing it,” he said.  “You hold him while I tend to his wounds.  Keep him feeling safe.” 

The elder twin nodded, loosening his grip on his brother just slightly so Glorfindel could better assess the damage.

When the warrior tried to gently turn Elrohir over on his back, though, the young elf resisted.  He was so tired.  And he hurt everywhere.  And he felt so much shame.  And…and he was so tired.  He wanted to be strong, but he just didn’t want to have to endure anything else.  He didn’t want them to see how dirty he was.  Or the welts where the men had beat him.  Or the bites and scratches from the rats.  Or where he’d hurt his wrist trying to pull away from the chains.  Oh, his wrist!  He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone manipulating the bones and touching it.  To his utter mortification, his eyes filled with tears.

Glorfindel tried again, this time more insistently to turn him over and the young elf had no choice.  He was soon on his back, head still in his brother’s lap, but feeling very exposed.  He closed his eyes tightly so he didn’t have to see their faces.  He didn’t want to see.

“Elrohir?” questioned Glorfindel gently.

Afraid trying to speak would only end up with him further humiliating himself, Elrohir shook his head, shaking lose a couple of tears that trickled down his cheeks.

A gentle hand wiped them away, then caressed his head.  “What is it?  Tell me,” Glorfindel’s deep voice asked soothingly.  “You did hear us, I trust.  Lad, none of us blame you for reacting the way you have.  You have nothing to fear.  Please look at me.”

The eyes that reluctantly opened and looked at him were sad, but filled with such deep exhaustion that Glorfindel said, “Ah lad, you have no reserves left, do you?  When did you last eat?  Or sleep?”

Elrohir shook his head as if he couldn’t understand why Glorfindel even asked.  “I couldn’t,” he said slowly, as if the mere act of speaking took more energy than he had.  “I couldn’t let down my guard.  There were too many.”

“I see,” said Glorfindel in a quiet voice, understanding far more than Elrohir’s words had conveyed.   He could only imagine the boy, beaten, chained in the dark, refusing to sleep for nearly a week.  Not only was he proud of him for enduring, but also relieved to realize that a serious lack of sleep was most likely to blame for Elrohir’s initial reaction to them.  Elves could go several days with little rest, but at some point they had to sleep or suffer the consequences.  Hallucinations, dizziness, nausea, mood swings and a host of other symptoms would not be unusual for an elf who hadn’t slept in nearly a week.  With rest, he was hopeful the younger twin would overcome his ordeal and soon they could all put this whole distasteful affair behind them.

Hoping to impart some of his pride in the boy, he said, “You did well, Elrohir.  You were strong to stay vigilant for so long.  But now Elladan and I are here to take the next watch and you must rest.  To that end, I will make you a tea from the leaves of the kalixa bush.  It will numb the pain while we work and aid in your recovery…..Elrohir, are you listening to me?.........Elrohir, do you understand?”

Elrohir’s eyes had glazed partway through his words and Glorfindel realized the lack of sleep was even more severe than he’d thought.  It looked like the boy wasn’t able to concentrate for more than a couple of minutes.  He needed to rest and he needed it now.

Leaving the twins for just a moment, he walked over to the two men, who’d been watching the communications between the elves with interest.  Although they couldn’t understand the words, the intense emotions came across clearly and even Pedar was starting to feel a touch of sympathy for the young elf who was so obviously upset.

Glorfindel still didn’t know and still didn’t care what the men were thinking.  He asked for a cup of hot water and turned away without even waiting for them to acknowledge his request.  While waiting for the water, he pulled out several items from the small pouch of herbal remedies he carried for just such occasions.  He laid out a small circle of leather and then took a couple of dried kalixa leaves and crumbled them into the center of it.  He then did the same to a leaf from the corvol tree before pulling the ends of the leather together and then pinching the small bag it formed in order to further crush the leaves.  When the cup of hot water was ready, he opened up the leather and poured the ground leaves in, watching them turn the tea a light brown.  When he judged it to be potent enough, he brought it over to where Elladan sat hugging his brother in his arms.

Elrohir knew enough about remedies from his father to know the instant he smelled the tea that Glorfindel had added more than just the kalixa leaves.  His tired mind couldn’t piece together what it was, though.  Then again, he didn’t care.  In fact, if it would put him to sleep, even better.  He didn’t want to hurt, didn’t want to feel, didn’t want to think.  Without protest, when Glorfindel helped Elladan pull him higher into a sitting position, he allowed them to help him drink the bitter tea and before another thought passed, he gratefully fell into deep oblivion.  

    ~~~~~~~~~

“…and then we tended Elrohir’s wounds, cleaned him up the best we could, bundled him up in a blanket, and left.  I suppose he would have slept better in a bed, but we had all had our fill of the people of Brightfalls and wished to be away from them.  We walked for quite awhile, Glorfindel of course carrying Elrohir, putting many miles between us and the village before we stopped for the night.  Granted, the ground was quite wet, but we managed.  We were so glad we did when Elrohir finally woke up and it was obvious how happy he was to not have to face those men again.”

Elladan, who’d lost himself in narrating the story, paused a moment to catch his breath.  He’d been talking a long time and he was getting tired.  After rubbing his eyes, he blinked a couple of times.  Wait.  When had the sun gone down?  How long had he been talking anyway?  Sitting up in alarm, he asked sharply, “Legolas, Estel, where is Elrohir?  He should have been back long before now.  How far away is the river?”

Both his companions rushed over to him and gently eased him back down, hoping he hadn’t injured himself by moving to abruptly.

“Peace, my friend,” said Legolas, putting a hand on Elladan’s shoulder to calm him.  “Elrohir returned some time ago and is over by the fire, cooking your fish.”

Elladan twisted his head around until he saw his twin, sure enough kneeling by the fire with a row of fish dangling from a stick rigged up over the pit, apparently for once oblivious to Elladan’s alarm.  The elder twin scoffed at himself.  How could he have not noticed that heavenly smell of fish cooking?  He turned back and sunk into his blankets.  Good.  Everyone was accounted for.  That didn’t mean all was well, naturally, for he had no idea if Estel had learned anything, but he’d worry about that in a moment.  Now that he was aware of the cooking fish, its mouth-watering scent wafted over to him and he realized just how hungry he was.

When Elladan’s stomach responded to that reminder by growling ferociously, Estel, who was still hovering near him after helping him lay down, snorted in amusement and said, “I think dinner’s just about done.  Hold on a moment and I’ll bring you some.”

Elladan turned his head to look at his little brother.  There was something different in Estel’s tone.  Something…lighter.  Was the boy finally coming around?  He sure hoped so.  He was really starting to hurt and his patience wasn’t infinite.

When Estel left to get his brother some dinner, Elladan’s eyes followed him as he joined Elrohir by the fire.  Elladan couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t look like Estel was being hurtful and distant to Elrohir.  Maybe things really were looking up…

-----------

A/N:  Not much to say—sigh…just the same as always:  I’m so sorry it’s been so long, thank you so very much if you’re still reading, hope you like it, etc.  Only one more chapter to go.  I WILL finish this (and then never post another story before it’s COMPLETELY written).

FM