Thanks to Cathy for beta'ing this for me! *huggles*

Chapter Ten

Aragorn sat at the long festive table trying his hardest not to yawn from boredom. The annual banquet seemed more and more boring every year and since this year Elrohir was not present it was even worse.

The ranger grinned as he watched Legolas talk politely with a female elf who was obviously quite taken with him. Her flirtatious efforts gave Legolas an unfitting cherry complexion and his best efforts to turn her off were not working. From the way Legolas’ eyes frequently darted around the courtyard, looking for a chance to escape, he was not happy to have been seated next to her; the human guessed that was Elladan’s doing.

A quick glance at his oldest brother made Aragorn’s smile fade slightly. Elladan was trying to move past his anger and hurt, in fact he was being quite pleasant. His hurt from being so wronged by those closest to him was obviously hard for the elf to let go of. Things were obviously still strained between Elladan and Elrond. Elrond was trying a little too hard not to upset his oldest son, and Aragorn knew that the older twin might have been amused by it in different circumstances. Things had not gone back to normal for the ranger and his eldest brother, either, and Aragorn picked up the same feelings between Elladan and Legolas. The human sighed, wishing not for the first time that day that Elrohir could be there.

A smaller, gentler hand grabbed his and the human turned his attention to Arwen. A soft, subtle smile played on her lips that he couldn’t help but return. Elrond did not yet know that the two were in love. In fact nobody did. The ranger was quite content to leave it that way for the time being.

“Things will be back to normal soon,” Arwen declared happily. Aragorn nodded, grateful for the reassurance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Legolas eyeing him and the she-elf suspiciously so he subtly dropped her hand.

“When Elrohir is recovered, Elladan will have his revenge,” the human replied to his love.

“I know,” Arwen snickered. “I overheard him mumbling to himself the day you left.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question, knowing she knew something. Arwen stayed silent, although the ranger spotted a mischievous grin in her eyes.

*****

A soft breeze blew through Elrohir’s room. From the window was a perfect view of the sun lowering on the horizon, reflecting different shades of pink and purple onto the nearby clouds. Distant sounds of laughter and music broke through the silence. In the shadows of the room one elf stood, watching with cold, uncaring eyes the unaware sleeping form in the bed.

Resentment filled Celedur’s eyes as he regarded Elrohir. The older elf’s best efforts had failed to kill the other, who would recover in full. But now there was no one here to stop him, and Celedur supposed it would be worth it if only to see the look on Elladan’s face when he came in, knowing he was already too late. It would probably be the same look Celedur had given when Orodun died. At that thought, a deep frown embedded itself on the elf’s fair face.

Orodun would not be proud of me for this, he thought, startling himself. He had honestly never given thought to what his brother would think of his actions against the sons of Elrond. But Orodun had in fact died to save Elladan, and Celedur could not deny that one time he would have done the same.

Celedur regarded Elrohir once more, recalling the days when they had been like brothers—when all four elves had been inseparable. An intense longing for those days struck him, melting away just a little of his anger.

Shaking himself, Celedur forced himself to take a few steps towards the bed. “I have to finish what I started,” he said out loud, generating no response from the other elf. The lack of movement, of awareness, troubled him. The dark elf glared down at his prey, feeling disgusted with himself that he was going after someone in a completely defenseless position. And again the thought of what his brother would think of his actions made him rethink his vengeful plans.

The now-torn elf kept his gaze on his former friend, his mind going back and forth on what he should do next. A huge part of him wanted so badly to step forth and end Elrohir’s life; it was the same part of him that actually believed that the death of one of the twins would release him from his anger and from his grief. The other part knew better, and knew that if he killed the other elf then he would be as low as the Orcs that had killed Orodun.

Finally deciding to leave Elrohir be, Celedur slowly turned and headed for the window, intending to go back to the cellar. He knew he could have escaped, and he knew that by going back he would only meet his death coming morning, but the elf also knew that he did not want to live his life the way he had for the last five hundred years anymore. It could hardly be called a life, and he welcomed the thought of arriving at the Halls of Mandos where his brother would greet him.

As he slid out the window with his quiet elven grace Celedur paused for a few seconds to look back at Elrohir, who remained in his healing sleep and would be forever unaware of what had almost happened. Knowing he had made the right choice, Celedur returned to his path towards the cellar, finally able to let go of the stifling vengeance that had been consuming him.

*******

Elrond sat in his chair on the platform on top of the stairs leading down to the courtyard the morning after the banquet, watching as the firing squad lined up thirty yards from Celedur. The dark elf stood straight, his face betraying no emotion and his eyes meeting no one’s. Glorfindel hesitated a moment before giving the shooting squad the orders to shoot Celedur at dawn the morning after the banquet. To Elrond’s right, Elladan turned his head away as the arrows flew towards the doomed elf. Still Celedur’s composure remained the same; he stood there calmly and patiently until the arrows reached him. Now dead, Celedur fell to the ground without so much as a thump.

The crowd was silent, melancholy filling the air at the death of a first-born, even though it had been necessary. Slowly the elves began to disperse as Glorfindel and Erestor tended to the body.

“It is for the best, my son,” the elf-lord told his eldest as they walked away from the scene together. “His suffering and his anger has ended.”

“I know,” Elladan sighed. “But I cannot help but grieve for the elf he once was. His recent actions do not change the fact that he was once one of my closest friends.”

Elrond nodded his understanding and looked across the courtyard to Aragorn and Legolas, who were heading inside to check on Elrohir. The elf-lord smiled.

“Elrohir will be out of bed by the end of the week.”

At this Elladan smiled as well, and any onlooker would have been surprised at just how much father and son looked alike at that moment.

“Elladan,” the older elf paused in his steps and Elladan halted as well, turning towards his father. “I want you to know how proud I am of you for putting everything behind you.”

Elladan took a sharp intake of breath. “I know you are all sorry. You were right when you asked me how I would feel if it had been Estel’s arrow.” Elladan’s eyes lowered to the ground, betraying the lingering feelings of hurt he still felt.

Again Elrond only nodded.

“I do not see the point of breaking up our family,” the younger elf continued. “You and Naneth raised me better than that, and besides…” he paused here, considering his next words. “I would miss you.”

The elf-lord smiled, knowing that sentimental words did not come easy for Elladan; it did not come easy for any of his sons in fact. “I would miss you too; terribly,” he replied, pulling his oldest son into a hug. “I hope you know how terribly sorry about all of this I feel, and will always feel.”

Elladan did not reply but returned the embrace happily. He had not hugged his father in a very long time and the gesture in itself let his father know how much his son loved him.

TBC