Chapter 9, Realization

Waiting for his companions to finish preparing dinner, Elladan sank deeply into his bedding. Valar, he was tired! His injuries and lack of sleep were getting the better of him and his eyes slowly closed as he felt himself starting to drift. With an effort, he shook his head, trying to stay awake. He was afraid his hunger was going to lose out to fatigue if dinner wasn't presented soon. That would be a tragedy, he decided, since the light scent wafting over from the fire really did smell heavenly.

Despite his desires to the contrary, soon he was floating in a half-conscious, half-sleeping state. His breathing deepened and he felt the pull of sleep—another few moments and he would have been firmly ensnared by it—but then he caught a strong whiff of grilled fish that made his mouth water. Mmmm. It smelled like it was right in front of him.

"Don't tell me I went and caught the biggest, fattest fish in the river as promised, and you're not even going to stay awake to eat it," a teasing voice said.

Elladan's eyes popped open. He'd been expecting Estel to return with his food, but it was his twin who was kneeling beside him, smiling as he waved the dish he carried under Elladan's nose.

"And listen to you complain about it for the next century? Not likely," Elladan said, smirking as he put out his arm so his brother could pull him up. "Now help me up, you great troll."

Elrohir, favoring his bandaged right hand, put the plate he'd been carrying in his left hand down so he could gently pull his brother up, careful not to jostle Elladan's damaged ribs. He tucked a small pack behind Elladan's back to keep him propped up, then reached down and grabbed the plate, presenting it to his brother with a flourish.

"Take a look at this fellow here," he said with a smile. "You'll have to admit you've never seen a finer specimen, have you?"

"A veritable feast," agreed Elladan, pleasantly surprised to see it really was an exceptionally large fish that awaited him.

He took the offered plate, using the moment to quickly flick his eyes assessingly over his twin—his pleasure fading with what he saw. Elrohir sounded like he was back to usual, lighthearted self, but his eyes couldn't hide a dispirited weariness brought on by the events of the past few days. Clearly, his time by the river and talk with Estel hadn't resolved anything.

Elladan felt his innards twist with the realization his efforts thus far had failed, but he couldn't focus his tired thoughts on what, if anything, he should do next. What he did know, however, was that the smell of fish, that had moments before been making his mouth water, now made him queasy. He swallowed hard as he looked at his plate, careful not to let Elrohir see that his stomach churned at the thought of eating. Not for the world would he risk upsetting his brother by not eating the meal he'd prepared for him.

Praying he wouldn't gag, Elladan forced himself to pick up a bite and put it in his mouth.

It was paradise on a plate.

"Ro!" he gasped, his stomach instantly settled. "What did you do? This is…this is wonderful!"

A broad smile lit Elrohir's face. "I'm pleased you like it. It's a new technique I've been meaning to try for some time…one which I may teach you if you promise to rest after you're done."

Elladan, forgetting worrisome brothers and bothersome injuries, practically inhaled Elrohir's incredible concoction. The twins were highly experienced with cooking in the wild, of course, but this was indescribable. He moaned with pleasure as he took another bite.

Elrohir laughed in genuine delight, feeling his heart lighten. It helped put everything in perspective to see his beloved twin, safe and happy. The past several days had been trying, but Elladan would be fine and it was time for him to stop brooding. He knew only with time and rest could he truly put everything behind him, but as he sat there, Elrohir began to finally acknowledge that his worry over Elladan and his own exhausted state had put him into an unnecessarily dark frame of mind. Yes, the long journey through the caves, the days without sleep, the endless worrying and searching, and of course encountering the rats would be troubling under any circumstances, but he wasn't usually one to dwell on the negative. The situation with Estel…well yes, that still hurt, but right here, right now, Elladan was fine and that's what he wanted to focus on.

"Since you've proven it isn't unpalatable, perhaps I should try some," he said with a grin, starting to rise.

Elladan, his mouth full, grabbed Elrohir's right arm to get his attention—he wanted more if there was enough. He pulled his hand back sharply when Elrohir hissed and jerked at his touch.

"Elrohir…" he said in surprise. He'd been careful to avoid touching Elrohir's bandaged hand—he'd not heard his arm was injured as well.

Elrohir had been trying to discretely protect his shoulder, hoping that by hiding it he could prevent his companions from asking pesky questions about how the injury occurred. And now that he'd started putting the last few days behind him, it seemed like an even better idea . The last thing he wanted to do was resurface the unpleasant memories by having to talk about things.

"Sorry. You surprised me," he said casually, trying to hide the stabbing pain that had flared up in his back and shoulder when Elladan pulled his arm. "It's just some bruises I picked up whilst playing hide-and-seek with you in the caves. Did you need something? Would you like more to eat while I'm getting myself some?"

Ignoring his brother's attempts to distract him, Elladan put aside his plate and sat up straighter. "Just some bruises" would hardly be noticed by a warrior of Elrohir's experience—even bad ones certainly wouldn't make him jerk away. And now that he was looking for it, he could tell that the grey tinge in Elrohir's face wasn't merely from fatigue, but from pain as well. What was his brother up to, trying to hide an injury? He scowled.

"What I want is answers. What did you do? How did you hurt your arm?"

Elrohir shrugged his good shoulder, failing to keep the edge from his voice when he answered, "I said it's nothing. Really. My arm is fine."

But Elladan didn't need one more thing to worry about and wasn't in the mood to be placated. "Estel, Legolas, can you please come here?" he shouted.

The others had just sat down their own meal by the fire, but hurried over when they heard the tension in Elladan's voice.

"What is it?" asked Legolas, in concern.

"What happened to Elrohir?" Elladan demanded, pointing at his stiffly silent brother, who looked at him in outrage.

"I don't follow," said Legolas cautiously. Clearly something had upset the twins, but he wasn't sure what. "Are you speaking of his hand? You do recall we discussed it earlier and Estel wrapped it?"

Yes, of course he remembered sending Estel to dress Elrohir's hand. And though it was now fully dark, he'd have to be blind not to see the bandage. That's why he hadn't paid much attention when his brother had only used his left hand to give him food and help him up. Now he realized Elrohir had been using the excuse of the bandage to hide another injury. He wasn't in the mood for games.

"No. I'm speaking of his arm. His right arm. The one that's clearly injured, but he claims is fine. So I'm asking you what happened."

Elrohir was angry. One moment he was happy, shaking off the shadow of the past few days, and the next Elladan is in his face, accusing him of lying. Perhaps he hadn't told the whole truth, but he was bruised. And his arm was fine. Very well, he was prevaricating—it was his shoulder that was injured—but even that would truly be fine in no time. A few days of pampering it and it would be as good as new. There was no need for the sudden, unexpected attack and it infuriated him. What did it take to get a break around here?

"I told you it's fine," he snapped before Legolas could respond. "He wasn't even there when it happened."

"So you admit you did injure it?" Elladan jumped on his brother's mistake.

"I admit nothing. I'm fine. It's fine. Everything is fine! Now leave me alone," he snarled, turning to walk away.

"Estel, were you there? What do you know?" demanded Elladan.

Elrohir whipped back. "And don't start on him. He wasn't there either. No one saw anything save a caveful of damned rats!"

He snapped his mouth shut with a click. Valar, being tired and angry sure made him stupid. Obviously Estel and Legolas had seen the rats in the cave, but he hadn't meant to bring them up. At all. And he didn't think they'd told Elladan how many there'd been. Now the questions would follow. The demands for details. Wanting to help him deal with everything when a few days of distance was all he needed.

He took a couple of steps back to Elladan's side and bent over and yanked the discarded plate off the ground. The warning to back off was clear in his voice when he said, "You want more fish? I'll get you more fish. Then you go to sleep. We are not discussing anything else."

Elladan, too, was angry. He was in pain. He was exhausted. He was tired of feeling responsible for ungrateful, pig-headed brothers . As Elrohir turned to go, he purposely grabbed his brother's right arm, pulling on it. He was horrified by the reaction he got.

With a cry, Elrohir dropped the plate and fell to one knee, clasping his right shoulder with his left hand. He half turned and hunched over to protect it, clenching his teeth to prevent any further sound from escaping.

Elladan, his own injuries forgotten, flew out of his blankets but then stopped, hovering over his twin without touching him.

"Elrohir…" he gasped. He hadn't meant to really hurt his brother. Well, maybe just enough to get him to admit he'd had another injury on his arm that needed tending. But he hadn't believed there was anything seriously wrong and he was appalled he'd hurt his twin.

"Elrohir…" he said again. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't think…"

Elrohir was grateful for the dark hair that curtained his face. It gave him a moment to compose himself and get the pain under control before he faced the others.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he straightened and turned. The others were like three frozen statues with identical open-mouthed expressions of shock, dismay, and indecision. Clearly they wanted to rush to his aid, but were afraid to approach him. They looked ridiculous and the absurdity of it all significantly reduced his anger.

"A little over the top as a demonstration, brother," he said, allowing only a touch of annoyance to color his voice. "But you do have a way of making your point. Very well, I admit I may have injured my shoulder."

If Elladan's head hadn't been pounding and his exhaustion hadn't seriously shortened his temper, his concern for Elrohir as well as shame for hurting him would have undoubtedly kept him from becoming angry again. As it was, a flash of anger rushed through him when Elrohir almost dismissively confirmed the injury—that moronic twin of his knew better. Not only was hiding an injury stupid, but it was essential in the wild that you could trust in your companion's capabilities. Not knowing that someone couldn't function at their normal levels could endanger the rest of the group. He muttered something highly uncomplimentary under his breath and then jerked his head toward the glow of the fire.

"Let's go over there," he said acerbically. "We can use the light to better see what damage you've done to yourself this time."

Elrohir almost refused. Elladan made it sound like he was an injury-prone simpleton who'd deliberately run about, slamming his shoulder into rocks. Only the knowledge that the others would never leave him alone until his shoulder had been looked at kept him from telling his brother just where he could shove his suggestion.

"Fine," he growled, and stomped over to the fire, followed closely by Elladan.

Legolas and Estel didn't move. Although both dearly loved the twins, they were also aware that when the pair of them were in a temper, it was best to avoid being a target. They puttered about for a few moments, pretending to be busy by smoothing out Elladan's bedding, until he called to them.

"Would it be too much to ask for some assistance over here?" the elder twin bellowed from across the camp.

"Coming," they responded in perfect unison. They both laughed at that and shared a quick look of understanding. So much for keeping out of the fray.

The two hurried over to the fire where Elladan had already lifted the back of Elrohir's tunic, trying to assess the damage but having a hard time with his bandaged, sprained wrist limiting his abilities.

Noting the arrival of the others, Elladan said with an edge in his tone, "The damage appears to be centered on his shoulder, right in this area." He nodded to the center of deep black bruise located in the middle of Elrohir's right shoulder.

Estel crouched down and gently tugged the tunic out of his brother's hand, lifting it up a bit higher so he could see better. Legolas peered over his shoulder and they all winced at the sight. Elrohir's whole back was a collage of multi-colored bruises, but the real problem was as Elladan had pointed out—amidst the bruising and swelling there was a small raised lump right in the middle of Elrohir's shoulder.

Legolas frowned. "Ro, I think your collarbone may be broken."

The undamaged shoulder shrugged slightly.

"Aye, I suspected as much."

"You knew? And carried me for hours? Have you no brains at all? What were you thinking?" Elladan exploded, his voice getting louder and angrier with each question.

"It didn't hurt as much to begin with," Elrohir said defensively. "And I…aghh." He broke off abruptly when Elladan's exam touched a particularly painful spot.

"Serves you right," spat Elladan nastily. The idea that the fool carried him while injured made him furious. He prodded again, causing his brother to inhale swiftly.

"Stop hurting him!" demanded Estel, surprising everyone. Considering his earlier behavior towards his brother, he was an unlikely champion.

Elladan glared at his little brother. He shouldn't interfere. Besides, where was all this concern for Elrohir earlier?

"I need to examine him," he said waspishly. "Stay back unless you're going to help." He continued poking at the shoulder, trying to determine the extent of the damage. He couldn't believe Elrohir had been stupid enough to carry him when there were other alternatives.

"Couldn't Legolas have carried me?" he asked testily.

Elrohir didn't respond. He was biting his lip hard, trying not to cry out. Was Elladan trying to hurt him?

Elladan, his head pounding from the concussion and lack of sleep, continued irrationally.

"What, you didn't trust him to take care of me? It had to be you? The hero? What exactly were you attempting to prove? That you don't need anyone else's help? That you're stronger than the rest of us? Don't bleed like the rest of us?"

Elrohir had had enough. He and his twin were two halves of a whole, but there were times when he couldn't stand to be around him. Like now, when Elladan was too tired and hurt and angry to think clearly and said whatever mean thing he could think of.

He abruptly batted away his twin's prodding, poking hand and pulled back, yanking his tunic down with his good hand.

"Leave Legolas out of it," he spat. "Trusting him has nothing to do with this. All I was trying to do was carry your ungrateful carcass back to safety. Remind me to leave your sorry hide behind next time."

"Elrohir, I'm sure Elladan didn't mean…" Legolas started to say.

"Don't," snarled Elrohir, cutting his friend off. "He says whatever he wants to when he's in this mood and I'll not have you defend him."

Fatigue and pain of his own making him clumsy, he shifted awkwardly to his feet. Forget it! Forget all of them. He'd go somewhere quiet and bind his own shoulder. He hissed when his graceless movements amplified the stabbing pain in his shoulder, but it didn't keep him from stalking away.

"Elrohir, where are you going? Don't be stupid," shouted Elladan.

"Leave me alone! All of you," Elrohir growled.

He tripped over the uneven ground and barely managed to keep from falling. He couldn't, however, prevent the jarring shock to his shoulder, and the pain radiated all the way down to his fingertips. He staggered, hunching over as he hugged his arm to his chest, squeezing it with his left hand.

Estel took a step towards him, "Ro…"

Elrohir twisted away. "Leave me be, Estel," he said, the pain turning his voice hoarse.

He shifted away from his brother, thinking only of getting a quiet spot so he could think, but didn't notice the small pile of logs that had been left to feed the fire. His foot caught on one and once again he tripped. His left arm wheeled wildly and his feet danced in an ungainly fashion trying to keep his balance—his ungraceful actions normally would have provoked great teasing from his brothers, but amusement over his plight was the farthest things from their minds when he overbalanced and crashed to the ground.

At his scream of pain, his companions flew to him. The injured elf was curled on his right side, cursing violently in a choked voice.

"Ro?" Elladan questioned gently, his mercurial temper doused at the sight of his brother in clear agony.

Elrohir didn't appear to hear him as his colorful cursing continued unabated. His left hand was tightly clasping his right shoulder and he rocked slightly.

"Ro, let me help you, please?" Elladan asked, worried when he didn't get any response, not even a nasty order to go away.

Legolas knelt down in front of Elrohir and put his hand on his friend's left shoulder, hoping the touch would calm him. Elrohir seemed to be aware of the touch, for with it he cut off his litany of curses with a choked breath, though Legolas could feel his friend's body trembling.

"Elladan, Estel," Legolas said, taking charge. "We need to turn him on his back. Help me."

As carefully as he could he pushed against Elrohir's good shoulder, the other two pulling at his waist and legs.

When they got him on his back, they saw what had caused their brother and friend to give such forceful voice to his pain. His left hand was covered in blood and an ever-widening circle of red on his tunic glistened wetly in the firelight. The impact of falling on his shoulder had completely broken the fractured bone and driven one jagged end through muscle and skin—what had been a relatively simple injury was now far more serious.

Elladan sat back in the dirt with a thump, spent. Even considering the vast strength of elves, he had overextended himself for far too long and the shock of this latest setback left him with no resources to deal with it. His mind blanked as he tried to think of what to do next.

Fortunately, his companions were not in a similar state. Seeing Elladan's washed out, disorientated look, Legolas continued to direct their efforts.

"Estel, we need to get that bleeding stopped. I know it'll hurt, but see what you can do to put pressure on it while I get things ready."

Legolas turned to his other helper. "Elladan…."

He paused when the dark haired elf didn't react. His poor friend was sitting there in an exhausted stupor. With a start, Legolas also remembered that Elladan most likely was also feeling something of what his twin was experiencing, as during times of great stress their connection strengthened.

Kneeling in front of his friend, he took a hold of both shoulders. What Elladan really needed was to lay down and get some long overdue rest, but first they needed his help with Elrohir.

"Elladan, Elrohir needs you. Estel and I will tend to his wound, but you must keep him focused and calm. Can you do that?"

Elladan blinked and then after a deep breath, seemed to come back to the present. He looked up at Legolas and nodded wearily.

"Aye." He shook his head and said in a firmer voice, "Aye, naturally. Of course. "

His movements were sluggish, but he managed to scoot to his brother's left side, leaving the injured side for Estel and Legolas, and reached out, cupping Elrohir's cheek and chin with his right hand.

"Ro..…Elrohir, I want you to look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me."

His twin didn't acknowledge him. His eyes were shut tight and his face white with pain. Elladan could feel how tightly he clenched his jaw, obviously keeping himself from shouting.

"Elrohir…"

A small bowl with water and a clean cloth appeared in front of Elladan and he looked up gratefully at Legolas, but the other elf had already turned around and was fetching more materials they'd need to treat Elrohir's shoulder.

Elladan dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it out, then gently wiped his brother's face and neck. He continued to do so as he spoke lowly to Elrohir, waiting for his voice to break through the pain-filled fog that consumed his twin.

After awhile, Elrohir's eyes opened and he blinked dazedly until he focused on his brother. He swallowed hard and said in a choked voice, "Valar…hurts."

Elladan's eyes involuntarily flicked to where Estel was doing his best to press down on the shoulder wound, trying to stem the bleeding without making the injury worse. A good inch or so of jagged bone stuck out of the shoulder and Elladan swallowed convulsively. He'd been fighting the nausea caused by his concussion, but seeing the blood-covered white bone nearly sent him over the edge. He'd seen countless injuries as a warrior, but this was a nasty one and was made worse by the fact that it was his twin who lay shivering with pain.

"Shhh…I know," he soothed, forcing down his reaction so he could comfort his brother. "Just lie still. We'll take care of it."

Elrohir's breathing was rapid, but he kept his eyes on his twin.

"Guess that….that wasn't the brightest thing I've done," he gasped. "I should…aaah," he broke off, trying to twist away from where his little brother was pushing harder, accidentally causing the sharp bone to cut deeper into the damaged tissue while he tried unsuccessfully to stem the blood that now puddled under Elrohir's shoulder.

Estel hated hurting his brother, but kept the pressure firmly against the wound and used his other hand to try to hold Elrohir down. When Elrohir closed his eyes again and continued to writhe, desperation crept over Estel.

"Legolas," he shouted, unable to resist calling, even knowing the elf wasn't dawdling. It was urgent they pull the bone back into alignment and pack the wound with an herbal paste to help staunch the bleeding. Elrohir was losing too much blood. Something to help with the pain would also be welcome. He wanted to put Elrohir into such a deep sleep that he wouldn't feel anything they were about to do.

Although only minutes passed, it seemed like hours to Estel as he knelt over Elrohir, his hands coated in the blood that continued to flow. In the background, he vaguely heard Elladan speaking calmly, urging their brother to be still, to relax. He didn't know how Elladan could sound so composed—he himself was ready to scream by the time Legolas finally dropped to the ground, carefully placing several bowls and a pile of cloth by their side.

"Help me bring his head up," he said as he reached down and carefully drew the injured elf toward him.

Estel continued to put pressure on the wound while Elladan shifted so he could put his twin's head in his lap. Once Elrohir was situated, Legolas picked up a cup and held it to his mouth.

"Here Ro, drink this," he said gently.

Elrohir's eyes were still shut, but he heard the quiet command and did as told without fuss. Trusting them to do whatever was needed, he gave himself completely into the care of the others. His reward was the potent brew's immediate effect. Elrohir experienced a fragmentary moment of clarity when, to his utter relief, the pain disappeared. Then within a blink of an eye, he slumped into blessed oblivion.

With Elrohir beyond the reach of pain, Elladan's last burst of energy was extinguished. His head drooped, brushing against his twin's as he leaned forward, Elrohir's unconscious body the only thing keeping him from falling over.

He didn't have the strength to protest when Legolas gently pulled Elrohir away and Estel, letting off of the pressure for a moment, put his arms around his eldest brother.

"Elladan, time for you to rest. We'll take care of Ro," Estel said.

Estel tugged the unresisting elf to where Legolas had thoughtfully brought over his own bedding and laid him down. When Elladan's worried face turned instinctively to his twin, Estel tenderly pushed it back and smoothed his forehead.

"Rest," he said. "We'll take good care of him."

The young teenager grimaced when he saw he'd just left a bloody streak across Elladan's face, but then shrugged it off when he acknowledged his brother wouldn't care.

Elladan flicked his eyes worriedly once more to his twin, but then turned back to Estel and nodded. As much as he wanted to see to Elrohir's needs, for once he had to acknowledge he didn't have the strength. With a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and within an instant, he dropped into a deep sleep.

With both twins mercifully sleeping, Legolas and Estel were able to focus completely on their task of doing what they could to repair the damage to Elrohir's shoulder.

Although Legolas was far more experienced with treating warriors' wounds, Estel had studied diligently at his elven father's side for years and was easily able to assist in the unpleasant task of tending to the ugly wound. The two worked as a perfect team, almost without need for words, as they cleaned the injury, realigned the bone, dressed the wound with a complex paste of ground herbs and tree sap, stitched together the roughly torn skin, and then bound everything tightly.

It was deep into the night when Legolas and Estel sat back, their task complete. It had been hard work, but they had finally stopped the bleeding and they were content that the muscle and bone would knit back together properly in time. Elrohir himself looked distinctly worse for the wear. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was so pale it took on a translucent quality. His breathing was shallow as well and his heart rate was still higher than normal, but both were partly as a result of the powerful blend of herbs Legolas had put into the tea. All that aside, however, Elrohir looked to be beyond pain at the moment and they were grateful it would allow him to stay in a deep, healing sleep.

"Nicely done. Your father has taught you well," said Legolas approvingly, smiling at the young human who'd turned out to be a surprisingly skilled healer. He'd had his doubts about the boy's maturity earlier, but the lad had come through when it counted—it was with distinct pleasure that he realized this young man had the makings of a great friend in the years ahead.

Estel smiled back. "Thank you. Although I couldn't imagine doing this without you."

Legolas considered. "It would not have wished to do it alone either," he acknowledged. "These kinds of injuries can be tricky and are difficult to tend with just one set of hands."

He smiled again at the young man and then began to pull together the blood-covered supplies they'd been using. Estel wordlessly helped him and within short order, they had the area clean and tidy once more.

Both too wound up to sleep, the two sat down by the fire, sharing quiet companionship as they tried to relax from the tension of the past several hours.

"I'm hungry," said Estel, unexpectedly breaking the silence.

The petulant tone in his voice made Legolas laugh. One minute Estel was a mature, capable young man, and the next the little boy came out again. Ah well, such is the nature of the adolescent.

Legolas looked over to where the cold remains of what was to be their dinner lay discarded in the dirt and sighed. He'd only had a few bites of Elrohir's catch, but what he'd tasted had been wonderful. It was a shame so many hours had passed and it was no longer edible. He and Estel would have to make do with the provisions they had in their packs—a poor substitute for fresh fish.

"Aye," he said. "We should eat something and then you can try to get some sleep. I'll take the watch tonight."

"I can stand watch as well," protested Estel, but more out of habit than anything else. In truth, he was worn out and would welcome several uninterrupted hours of sleep.

"Nay," countered Legolas. "I am rested enough and it will be no hardship for me. You need to be fully awake to help me care for your brothers tomorrow. I expect neither of them will be in very good moods once they wake and we will need to have our wits about us to keep them properly resting."

Estel nodded absently. Legolas was right, after all. He walked over to his pack and withdrew some rations. Not anywhere close to being as tasty as the fish, but it would fill the void in his stomach and maybe he could catch some more fish tomorrow. He handed some of the food to Legolas, then wearily ate his own—it had been a long day.

When he'd finished and brushed away the crumbs, Estel looked uncertainly at his companion. He had something to say, but felt strangely shy.

"Legolas?"

The elven prince, finished with his own meal, had been staring into the fire.

"Hmm?" he acknowledged.

"I just…well…I just want to apologize for earlier," began Estel hesitantly, but when Legolas sat up and looked at him encouragingly, he continued with more confidence.

"I am ashamed of how I acted earlier. I was wrong to judge Elrohir and…and I was wrong to try to drag you in to my foolishness. And for that I beg your pardon."

Even though Legolas had already decided to put aside Estel's earlier transgressions after his mature handling of his brothers' injuries, it still filled him with pleasure to see further evidence of the young man's innate goodness. He held out his hand in friendship, smiling when Estel clasped it firmly.

"Granted," he said, "unreservedly."

Estel smiled his thanks shyly and breathed a sigh of relief. One down, two to go. He had to apologize to his brothers as well, but it was nice to know that at least one person had forgiven his unconscionable behavior. And yes, after Elladan's last story he had come to the firm conclusion that he'd behaved atrociously.

Estel had found it easier to identify with the adolescent Elrohir's plight than the child's, and when he'd tried to imagine himself in similar circumstances—beaten, chained in the dark with rats biting at him—he knew he would have been left with scars to his psyche as well. In fact, on reflection he was proud of how Elrohir had gone right back into the narrow passage after the rats had attacked him, knowing the nasty beasts would still be there. It deeply shamed him to think how he'd childishly taunted his brother afterward, when he should have been supporting him—he wished there was some way he could make it up to him.

With a small sigh of regret, he looked at his sleeping brothers. For now, at least, there was nothing more to do.

He spent a few more minutes talking quietly to Legolas, making sure the elf knew to wake him if there was any change in his brothers' conditions, and then he laid down on his blanket. In a heartbeat, he joined them in much-deserved sleep.

A/N: No, this isn't the end of the story. I'd said I had only one chapter left, but got on a roll after the last one and had written almost the whole chapter--was only a couple of days from publishing it--when I lost it. All of it. Yes, I'd stupidly saved it on a memory stick (since I was using a couple of different computers) and accidently washed it, losing EVERYTHING I'd written. I'm not kidding.  After trying unsuccessfully to recover the file, I tried instead to recreate it. I started back over again, but I was angry at losing it all and the chapter flew off into another direction, becoming this single scene where the twins became angry and got stupid. SIGH. Ah well. At least I was so mad that I wrote it pretty fast (for me). Sorry, but there's still one more chapter to go (and I promise…it will be the last one this time).