After leaving Aragorn safely in bed, asleep, the twins silently returned to Elladan’s room to discuss the night’s events.

Elrohir threw himself into a chair by the fire gazing unwaveringly into the flames. Shaking his head in disbelief he turned pain-filled eyes from the flames to his brother. “I cannot believe that father blamed Estel for what happened. He is exhausted! Father had no cause to blame him then, if ever; but especially not when he is unable to argue or even think rationally! Surely he knows that Estel was already feeling guilty, and any accusations he made would only confirm his belief?”

Elladan perched on the end of his bed, back against the wall. He gazed sadly over at his younger brother sprawled inelegantly sideways in his chair, with little regard for his brother’s property.

“He did have a point Elrohir,” Elladan interjected, “if Estel hadn’t given Legolas the herb or the idea of flying none of this would have occurred.”

Elrohir rose in anger, shock upon his face and reflected fire burning in his eyes. Anger and disbelief caused him to raise his voice incautiously at his brother.

“If you feel like that then why don’t you just go and accuse him yourself. Go on, wake him up now and kick him some more while he’s already down!” He rubbed his hands over his face, “Sometimes I despair of you Elladan. It was not his fault! By his own words there was nothing else to give him. Could you have just sat there if I was in pain, and forced me to walk a three day trek home without any relief?”

“I…”

Raising his voice still further, to drown out his brother’s interruption, Elrohir continued. “And don’t try to tell me that you would have left me there and gone for help, for I will not believe that you would have left me alone to defend myself when injured.”

Elladan rose in anger at his brother’s last statement and, launching up, shoved him down into the chair keeping him there with one hand pressing down on his chest.

“Be silent ere you wake the whole household! I fear all of us will have precious little sleep tonight without you raising everyone,” he hissed.

Easing up on the pressure restraining his brother, he continued in a harsh semi-whisper. “Of course I would not have left you there injured! How can you even suggest that I would be so callous as to abandon you there alone! Do you really think I would do that?”

Elladan’s anger tailed off at his question, and a hurt look flashed across his face. Releasing Elrohir he paced away one hand around his waist, and the other rubbing across his face in disbelief, sliding up to grasp his hair in anguish.

Elrohir, too irate to heed his brother’s concerns, rose to his feet and strode after his twin. “How do you think Estel is feeling right now after father said those things to him? I’m sure he feels abandoned and betrayed, and if he heard you agreeing with father…”

Elladan swung back around ending up face to face with his twin. He placed an appeasing arm on Elrohir’s shoulder, “I am not agreeing with father, I would have used anything that worked to ease your pain, and well you know it.” His anger grew again at his brother’s accusations. “You would have done the same as I, and Estel! The only difference is that I would have had the strength to carry you home rather than requiring you to walk. “

Elrohir, thrust his brother away from him, and the two stood glaring at each other in the eyes, fists raised. “What is it with you today and disparaging the boy! Do not think he missed your comments tonight about his human weaknesses, do you not realise he will see that as yet another example of his failings?”

“Elrohir!” Elladan cried, “I do not see Estel anywhere at fault, I was only pointing out what he is going to believe of himself.”

A full minute passed with the two standing at loggerheads with each other, glaring. Eventually Elrohir accepted the truth of Elladan’s words, and lowered himself onto the bed, head lowered onto his arm, one hand covering his eyes. “You sounded like father, accusing him and blaming him. I am sorry, I should not have believed it of you. I would not have believed it of father. He did not even examine Estel for injuries, just accused him and then left. I cannot believe it of him!”

Elladan sat himself down next to his brother, shoulders touching. Looking down at his hands, he sighed. “I agree; it was unlike Adar to act so towards Estel, but I cannot believe he had no reason!”

“A reason? I can see no reason! Estel’s was not such a terrible act, we both agree his actions are those that we would take ourselves; yet we have not been disciplined in such a way, ever! It is because Estel is mortal.” Elrohir cried.

Elladan’s uncertain eyes caught his brother’s. “Ro, you cannot believe that father would punish Estel for being mortal! He has always defended him before, when any blame him for that, and he has never punished Estel any differently. You know he has our best interests at heart, always! No, he has a reason for this behaviour, it is just beyond me to work it out.”

Confused and very worried eyes met his in return. “No, I can see no reason for it either. Do you think he is ill?”

A shake of the head and a very small smile graced the lips of Elladan at this. “He is not a mortal Ro, elves cannot get sick!”

Elrohir turned exasperated eyes upon his brother. “I know that you idiot, I meant…mentally ill. Possessed by the ring maybe?”

Elladan wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, hand ruffling his hair slightly, “I do not think such a thing is possible. I swear, the things you come up with! Come, it is late and we have both had a stressful night, let us sleep on it and confront father tomorrow. It is plain we are too fatigued to be make any further sense of this situation tonight.”

With a firm push Elladan cleared his brother from his bed and shooed him out of the room, though not for long. Elrohir poked his head back through the door and they exchanged another worried glance. Elladan sighed in exasperation, “If it will enable you to sleep, do you wish to stay in my room tonight?”

Elrohir gaped in mock horror. “I am not an infant of thirty to need tending after a nightmare! Are you sure it isn’t you who is afraid to stay in here alone; you who wouldn’t rather sleep with me?”

Elladan smiled; if his twin was able to joke then things must not be as bad as they appeared. Sharing in the tired smile, Elrohir informed him that he would check in on Legolas before going to bed, and turned to leave. Twin whispers were the last thing heard in the halls of Rivendell that night.

“Goodnight.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dawn’s light saw Aragorn again leaning on his window gazing out into the fading blackness, arms folded around himself tightly in an attempt to keep all his emotions locked tight up inside. The morning rays crept steadily closer to Rivendell, chasing away all hint of shadows, restoring colour to the land. The sky was losing its dullness, being replaced by a spectacular golden red that was reflected up to Aragorn by the River Bruinen below, but even this failed to cheer him. Tired eyes, filled with far too much pain for one so young, stared unwaveringly outside, focussed upon nothing. Gazing inwards, caught up with images of falling, his mind was unable to shake the terrors the night had brought.

After checking upon Legolas, Aragorn had returned to his room, exhaustion dragging in his every step. Unable to resist his need for rest, despite fearing more dreams, he collapsed upon his bed clutching the pillow tightly to his chest for comfort. Alas, as he had feared, he slept fitfully, continually experiencing dreams of falling, waking from the nightmares in horror each time.

Apart from his very first nightmare he no longer dreamed of Legolas vanishing over the cliff, sinking beneath the water below. Instead he was tormented by images of his brothers, his birth parents and Elrond jumping away from him, over the cliff, laughing. Anyone he held dear had been encouraged to fly backwards away from the support of the ground, freefalling down, laughing all the while with joy. Each time he had been painfully aware that it was because of him that they were placed in such jeopardy; it was because they trusted and loved him that he failed them.

His paralysed figure lay upon the stone surface, hands reaching down towards his family as they looked up at him, no terror upon their faces. Knowing that it was his fault, he glanced away every time, only to return his gaze as they fell beneath the waves. Each time he had awoken shuddering with fear and guilt. Aragorn greatly feared the possibility that he might cause injury to his family through his failings; the whispers of guilt brought by the wind in his nightmares had caused those feelings to the surface this morning.

Far worse than even seeing his loved ones sink to their deaths, though, had been the dreams of himself falling; falling not in joyful glee like Legolas and the others had done, but in terror, in full knowledge of the consequences. Falling staring up to the cliff top above, begging for help, and seeing Legolas or his brothers reaching out to him with terror in their gaze, unable to help him. He had seen the despair upon their faces, and known that he stood alone, or in this case fell alone; his brothers would not always be there for him. Another of his fears brought to life by his treacherous mind. He hated worrying his family, causing them hurt that way. He knew they were terrified of losing him, even while certain that he would pass away from their lives ere long, as they measured time. Perhaps he should just leave now, and spare them from any further pain, from witnessing his death. It appeared that is what Elrond desired.

His surrogate father had been furious with him last night, not even taking the time to check him over for any hidden injuries. Aragorn was unable to remember a time when he had been so thoroughly reprimanded for what seemed a relatively minor offence. He was fearful that his days as Elrond’s chosen son were ending, and that he was soon to be abandoned again. He could not imagine living without the knowledge that his brothers would be there to aid him in fights and cheer him up when he was low, nor could he bear that his father would stop teaching him, or worse, refuse him welcome in Rivendell. He was terrified of being abandoned again.

In his fatigue, Aragorn was unable to distinguish Elrond’s actions of the evening before from the twisted version of events his distraught mind had created that night. His abiding memory of the nightmares was of himself falling in despair, reaching out and being clasped safely in Elrond’s arms, his fall arrested, only to have them thrown off and Elrond turn his back on him without even the slightest interest in his fate, as he began to fall again. Once awakening after that torment, he had known that there was no further sleep coming his way, and had risen to gaze at the darkness outside, mirroring that in his soul. Shivering in his sweat-drenched clothes, he had leant over the balcony rail, blanket wrapped around himself for added warmth, and silently cried. Sometime during the night he had lost his sense of security, of family, and deep in his heart he knew that it was all his fault, everything.