Disclaimer: I do not own anything, it all belongs to Tolkien and I am not getting any profit whatsoever.  Many thanks to my awesome beta reader, Cathy *aka XsilicaX*

Chapter One

“Valar, Elrohir, you must have really made him mad if he refused a simple scouting trip,” Legolas commented to Elrohir with a small smile. The two elves were on their way out of Rivendell on their horses, along with Elrohir’s human foster brother Aragorn. The three were going on a scouting trip, but after the prank Elrohir had pulled on his twin brother Elladan, the older twin refused to come with them.

Elrohir merely shrugged. “It was a minor prank. I assure you he has done worse.”

Aragorn snorted, unbelieving of the twin’s comment.

“He will be over it when we return,” Elrohir continued, ignoring Aragorn. “Ada requested that he stay and help with the annual banquet anyway.”

“If I recall, Ada requested your help as well," Aragorn pointed out.

Legolas chuckled softly to himself, refusing to comment. Elladan, Elrohir’s identical twin brother, had never let his brothers go scouting without him before. The older twin always said it was because he liked scouting above anything he could do at home, but Legolas knew the real reason was because Elladan was overprotective of both of his brothers. Elrond had once told Legolas that Elladan’s over protectiveness dated to an incident from the twins’ childhood but Elrond would not tell him more.

The day was cloudless and sunny. All around the three, birds chirped merrily and the trees sang of the beautiful day.

Tell me again why we have come out scouting,” Elrohir commented halfway through the day. “There is nothing out here!”

“That is usually the outcome we want, brother,” Aragorn smiled. “Especially since there are only three of us.”

“Now, Estel,” Elrohir replied, addressing his brother with the ranger’s Elvish name. “I know you and Legolas are prone to getting into trouble when you are out here all by yourself, but I am here with you now. Nothing will happen.”

Aragorn gave his brother an unappreciative glare as Legolas reached over and smacked the other Elf upside the head. Elrohir just laughed in response, and soon the other two had joined in.

Then, without warning, Elrohir kicked his horse and called for a race between the three. As he and Legolas tried to catch up, Aragorn said to the blond Elf, “He’s two thousand years older than me and I have a longer attention span.”

Legolas roared with laughter.

When night came, the three set up camp. Elrohir kept watch as Aragorn and Legolas fought over who was cooking dinner.

“I can do it,” Aragorn insisted through gritted teeth as he grabbed the food from Legolas, who was preparing a fire.

“Strider, do not make me tie you down while I cook,” Legolas threatened very seriously. “Last time I let you cook, you scorched the food to ashes!!”

“It will not happen again,” Aragorn insisted.

"No, it will not happen again because you are not cooking again,” Legolas repudiated.

Somehow through their bickering, the food was cooked, although neither would give the other any credit. Elrohir joined them to eat.

“Quiet night,” Elrohir commented.

“Good,” Legolas nodded. “Estel needs his beauty sleep. I shudder to think how he would look come morning otherwise.”

Aragorn shot a piece of his food at the blond Elf, who easily dodged it and shot back one of his own.

“And Ada thinks that Elladan and I are bad,” Elrohir mused, shaking his head.

“Oh, we are not as bad as the two of you!” Aragorn protested indignantly while Legolas shot Elrohir a look as much as said the same thing.

“Whatever,” Elrohir muttered good-naturedly.

“We should get some sleep,” Legolas mentioned, knowing things wouldn’t stop if the three really got started with teasing each other.

Elrohir and Aragorn smiled knowingly at Legolas and started to clean up from dinner.

“I wonder what Elladan will have waiting for you at home,” Aragorn said to Elrohir. Elrohir just smiled, and was about to say something in reply, when suddenly something struck him in the chest. With a startled, painful cry, the Elf crumbled to the floor.

TBC

Chapter Two

“Elrohir!” Aragorn was on his knees at his brother’s side in a flash. Whatever had hit Elrohir had gone past Aragorn so fast the ranger hadn’t even seen it.

In another second, Legolas was beside the unconscious Elf as well. He and Aragorn very carefully rolled Elrohir onto his back. An arrow was sticking out of Elrohir’s chest; his tunic was already half-soaked in blood.

“We have to remove this NOW,” Aragorn declared.

Legolas nodded but let Aragorn do the work; the ranger was much more experienced in ways of healing than Legolas. Legolas scanned the land surrounding them, looking for signs of the attacker. This seemingly random hit still had him shocked.

“Do you see anything?” Aragorn asked after a few silent moments as he continued to work on his brother.

“No,” Legolas replied quietly, his eyes wide. He looked down at Elrohir. Aragorn had successfully removed the arrow but the wound was still gushing blood.

“Help me remove his tunic,” Aragorn asked before Legolas could say anymore.

Legolas turned his attention back to Elrohir, and very carefully he and Aragorn removed the older Elf’s tunic. Legolas cringed at the wound. Even without a lot of healing skills, he could tell the arrow had done a lot of damage. It had hit Elrohir squarely in the chest. While there was a chance the arrow hadn’t directly hit his heart, the chances were greater that it had. Meanwhile, the dark-haired Elf was deathly pale, which was even more alarming because only a few minutes had passed.

“I don’t understand, Estel,” Legolas continued. “How could anyone have gotten away so quickly?” Legolas scanned the lands again quickly, still seeing nothing. “I did not even sense any presence of danger.”

Aragorn didn’t know either. Elrohir had obviously not seen any danger either, since he had been joking around with his brother just seconds before the arrow hit him. Elrohir and Legolas both had incredible Elven instincts.

Aragorn was having far too much trouble stopping the bleeding. Finally he bound the wound as tight as he could manage and sat back, all of his facial features registering concern and worry.

“We need to get back to Rivendell immediately,” he told Legolas, who nodded and began to pack up their things.

Aragorn sighed and turned to the arrow that had shot his brother, meaning to take it with him. He had not had a chance until now to get a good look at it. He prayed it was not an Orc arrow, although he already highly doubted that it was. But if it was, there was a high chance that the arrow was poisoned. Even so, he would have to keep a close eye on the Elf for signs of poisoning.

As he took a good look at the arrow, Aragorn recognized it and felt his face pale. “Legolas!” he called out to his friend.

Legolas turned to Aragorn immediately and was puzzled by the expression on Aragorn’s face. “What is wrong now mellon nin?”

Aragorn swallowed hard. “This arrow… it is Elladan’s.”

TBC

To Cathy-- Thanks for reviewing, even though this makes it like the third time you've read this lol! *hugs*

A big thank you to Cathy for beta'ing this for me, as well as the first two chapters. *Hugs Cathy*

Chapter Three

The dimly lit sky boasted of purple and orange as the sun started to come up. Aragorn held his brother tightly against his chest as the horse they were on ran swiftly towards Rivendell. On the horse next to them, Legolas threw worried glances to Elrohir. Elrohir’s horse, empty of its rider, ran on the other side of Aragorn’s palomino, easily keeping up pace.

Elrohir’s head was bowed to his chest, his eyes closed. Aragorn knew that riding so fast was only making Elrohir worse, but they had no choice other than to do so if the injured Elf was to have any chance at all to live.

“Hold on, ‘Ro,” he whispered to his unconscious brother. “We are almost there, do not give up on me now.” Aragorn just hoped they wouldn’t arrive too late.

At long last, the trio reached the gates of Rivendell. Not bothering to put the horses in the stable, Aragorn and Legolas pulled up to a halt front right outside the Rivendell manor. Legolas was off his horse and beside Aragorn’s in a second; he took Elrohir from Aragorn so the human could dismount. The two then rushed inside, throwing the horses reins into the hands of a nearby elf, Aragorn yelling for Lord Elrond.

Elrond was there in half a second. His face paled when he saw Elrohir and he quickly but carefully pulled his son into his arms. Calling for Glorfindel and the other healers, he rushed off to Elrohir’s chamber; Aragorn and Legolas following.

Elladan met up with them on the way; his face was already pale, almost as white as his twin’s. While he looked worried, Aragorn could see no trace of surprise on Elladan’s face at the sight of his twin in such a state. Aragorn couldn’t help but assume that Elladan had already known Elrohir was hurt. His eyes drifted down to his pack, where he’d put the arrow that hit Elrohir—Elladan’s arrow.

Glorfindel forced Elladan, Aragorn, and Legolas to leave Elrohir’s chamber and wait in the hall. Elladan paced in front of the door. Aragorn and Legolas went to the ranger’s chamber, just two doors down, to talk.

“Elladan did NOT shoot Elrohir,” Aragorn insisted. “There must be another explanation.”

“The entire situation is very strange,” Legolas said. “Elladan did not look surprised when he was how gravely Elrohir was wounded.”

“That does not mean Elladan shot him,” the human cried.

“None of us sensed any danger,” Legolas continued as if he hadn’t heard Aragorn. “And after Elrohir got shot I didn’t see anybody, or anything nearby.”

“It was not Elladan!” Aragorn yelled. “Elladan would never shoot Elrohir, never.”

“Perhaps not on purpose,” Legolas replied. His eyes met Aragorn’s. “Can you explain it otherwise, Estel? Maybe he decided to come after all, and—,”

“Accidentally shot Elrohir? That is absurd, Legolas, and you know it.” Aragorn shook his head at the thought. Elladan would have had no reason to shoot towards the three at all. The ranger knew better than to think Elladan would have missed a target, and he knew Legolas knew better as well.

“Then I have no idea, Estel,” Legolas sighed, resigned.

“Someone obviously stole one of Elladan’s arrows,” Aragorn concluded.

Legolas raised his eyebrows. “To kill Elrohir and make us think it was Elladan? Why? Who would do that?”

“I don’t know.”

***********************

Aragorn and Legolas rejoined Elladan outside Elrohir’s chamber a short time later. Elladan was still pacing and he did not ask any questions of Aragorn and Legolas about what happened.

“Glorfindel is helping Ada,” was all he said to them. Hours later, Glorfindel finally emerged from the room.

Elladan, Aragorn, and Legolas, all weary and anxious, immediately surrounded the older Elf. Glorfindel himself looked incredibly worn out.

“Go to bed, all of you. It will be a long day.”

“He lives, does he not?” Legolas asked, worried at the grim look on Glorfindel’s face.

“He is alive,” Glorfindel confirmed, but would not say more. He gently pushed Elladan towards the twin’s chamber before returning inside Elrohir’s.

Aragorn watched as his oldest brother slowly made his way down the hallway into his chamber. He walked incredibly slowly, almost reluctantly. The ranger’s thoughts trailed back to that arrow. How had someone gotten one of Elladan’s arrows? Aragorn supposed it wouldn’t have been too difficult for someone to steal one if they’d really wanted to. However, following the two Elves and the ranger without detection was entirely different. Shooting Elrohir in the chest with his twin’s arrow and then leaving before Legolas spotted anything was different. Legolas had been right when he had said it was strange.

While he was loathe to admit it, Aragorn knew Elladan was acting strange. Aragorn had expected more resistance from him when Glorfindel pushed him towards his chamber, but the dark-haired Elf had not protested at all. Aragorn could not ignore the fact that Elladan had not been at all surprised to see his injured twin brother, nor could he deny that he had never asked what happened.

Aragorn turned to Legolas to see him also watching Elladan; the Mirkwood Prince’s eyes held more suspicion than Aragorn was comfortable with. Legolas turned his head and made eye contact with the ranger.

“Go to bed, mellon nin,” Legolas told him. “You are exhausted. Lord Elrond or Glorfindel will come get us all as soon as they know something.”

Aragorn stood back and folded his arms across his chest, staring back at his friend in protest. “I will not go to bed unless you do as well.”

Legolas just smirked. “I plan to, Aragorn.”

With that, the Elf pushed the human towards his chamber and followed, as the guest chamber Legolas always stayed in when he visited was next to Aragorn’s.

As Aragorn walked down the hallway, he turned his head back to the door to Elrohir’s chamber. He decided to push Elladan’s arrow out of his mind for the time being. Nothing mattered right now except that Elrohir lived. Aragorn suspected that, whether his brother lived or not, nothing would ever be the same.

TBC

Many many thanks to Cathy for betaing and to Songbird for reading it for me!!!

Chapter Four

It was near noon before Lord Elrond Peredhel felt confident enough to take a few steps away from his son to sit down. He, Glorfindel, and many other healers had been working non-stop for the past several hours to keep Elrohir alive. Many times already the Elf-Lord had had to call his son back to the light. Even now the danger had not passed.

Little light poured in from the outside; the day was grey and overcast. Elrond looked down at his ring and wondered if he would still have four living children at the end of this day. Casting that thought from his mind, he decided that yes, Elrohir would live. Elrond would give his own life to make sure of it if he had to. Elrohir could not die.

“My Lord,” Glorfindel caught Elrond’s attention from the door. “Elladan and Arwen are pacing outside.”

Elrond rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “Let them come in,” the Elf Lord replied. Glorfindel nodded and opened the door. With a simple nod of his head, he let the two elves waiting outside know they could enter.

Arwen looked crushed when her eyes fell on her brother; tears came to her eyes and she slowly approached his bed, taking his hand in hers.

Elladan stood in the doorway for a moment, his face almost as pale as his brother’s. He looked at Elrohir with wide, uncertain eyes. Elrond had not seen that expression on his eldest child’s face since he was a young elfling.

“He will be all right, right Ada?” Elladan asked.

Arwen lifted her gaze to meet her father’s, also anxious to know. Elrond looked at her, then at Elladan, and then down at Elrohir. Keeping his gaze on the younger twin, the Elf-Lord replied, “I will make sure of it.”

*******

Aragorn awoke to someone calling his name. When he opened his eyes he saw Legolas standing over him.

“Elrohir?” the ranger asked his friend the first lucid thought to run through his brain.

“I do not know mellon nin. I came here to wake you up first.”

“I do not know how I even slept,” Aragorn mumbled as he got out of bed.

Legolas waited in the hallway for Aragorn to change and they headed down to Elrohir’s chamber together. The door was closed. Quietly, Aragorn opened the door just a crack, enough for him to look in and see what was going on. After a moment, he relaxed and opened the door more, and slipped into the room. Legolas followed him.

Elrond was standing next to Elladan beside Elrohir’s bed. Arwen sat on the other side of the bed, holding her brother’s hand. Glorfindel rested on the couch at the foot of the bed.

Aragorn took a few steps farther into the room, his eyes never leaving his brother’s limp, pale form. “How is he?”

For one second too long nobody said anything and Aragorn assumed the worst.

“He is alive, Estel,” Elrond answered softly, reading the fearful expression on his human son’s face. “For now let us be grateful for that much.”

Aragorn nodded in understanding.

“Would one of you now please tell me what happened?” Elrond turned to Aragorn and Legolas, his eyebrows raised.

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a look, each dreading having to share what had transpired.

Seeing the hesitation, Elrond asked, “Would you rather discuss it with me in private?”

Aragorn nodded and let out a small sigh of relief. He looked at Elladan, who was frowning at him. The ranger broke their eye contact and followed his father and Legolas out of the room and into Aragorn’s chamber.

The Elf-Lord shut the door behind them and turned to the other two, waiting for one of them to speak.

“We do not know exactly what happened Ada,” Aragorn said finally. “We hadn’t even sensed any danger present. Suddenly Elrohir was on the ground with an arrow in his chest.”

“I didn’t see anything, Lord Elrond,” Legolas continued. “I looked in every possible direction. It was as if nothing was ever there.”

Elrond was silent. His brows were furrowed as he thought through what he had been told.

“There is something else, Ada,” Aragorn hesitated, walking over to his pack. “The arrow was an Elven arrow.”

“That explains why there was no poison,” Elrond replied. “I thank Valar for that.”

“Ada,” Aragorn said quietly as he pulled the arrow from his pack and handed it to his father. “This is the arrow that hit Elrohir.”

Elrond’s eyes widened as he took the bloodied arrow from the human. “You are sure?”

Aragorn nodded. “I pulled it out of him myself.”

Elrond looked paler than Aragorn or Legolas had ever seen. An awkward silence fell over the three; no one knew what to say.

“There must be another explanation,” Elrond mumbled, speaking mostly to himself. He raised his head to look at the ranger. “Elladan would never hurt Elrohir.”

“He was with you last night, Ada, right? He didn’t have in mind to come after us, did he?” asked Aragorn.

Elrond was silent.

“Ada?” he repeated.

“No, your brother was not with me last night, Estel,” Elrond replied finally. “But I am certain he did not leave Rivendell. There has to be another explanation.”

*************

Elrond stepped back into Elrohir’s room slowly. Arwen and Glorfindel had left; the twins were the only two in the room. Elrond paused in the doorway and watched Elladan sitting next to his injured twin. The Elf-Lord felt guilty as he wondered if Elladan was responsible for his brother’s condition.

He looked down at the arrow in his hands and then cleared his throat to announce his presence. Elladan turned around and looked at him. “May I speak with in the hallway Elladan?” Elrond asked as Aragorn and Legolas passed him to enter the room.

Elladan nodded and rose to his feet. He halted as he noticed Legolas’ intense gaze fixed on him. He said nothing to the blond elf as he turned and went into the hallway with his father.

Elrond studied his eldest child’s pale face for a moment before saying anything. Elladan kept his gaze to the floor and guilt was written all over his face. The Elf-Lord pondered why his son would feel so guilty if he had not been the one to shoot Elrohir. Mentally kicking himself, Elrond reminded himself that Elladan had always blamed himself for anything bad that had ever happened to Elrohir and Aragorn, even if he had not been present. Elladan could feel guilty merely because he had refused to go on the trip and then his twin brother had returned almost dead.

“Ion nin,” Elrond said as he brought his hand to his son’s jaw and gently lifted his head until their eyes met. “Are you well?”

Elladan nodded and his eyes shifted back to the floor. Elrond sighed and looked down at the arrow still in his hands.

“This is the arrow Estel pulled out of Elrohir,” he continued, catching his son’s attention again. Elladan looked down to his father’s hands. His eyes widened exactly as his father’s had when Aragorn showed him the arrow.

“Have you noticed any missing arrows?” Elrond asked. The younger elf shook his head, bewildered. “Did you ride out after your brothers and Legolas last night?”

“No,” Elladan insisted. “You think I shot him, Ada? I would never do that, and you should know that!” Elladan looked hurt at the accusation. “You believe me do you not Ada? Tell me you do not honestly think I would hurt Elrohir.”

“Of course I do not think that,” Elrond replied. “There are simply a lot of questions that need answering is all.”

Elladan nodded. Elrond opened the door to Elrohir’s chamber, effectively ending the conversation. Elladan came into the room after him and looked to Aragorn and Legolas. The Elf-Lord watched the three exchange expressions. Aragorn looked like he wanted to believe in his brother but was having difficulty. Legolas looked upon the older twin with much suspicion.

Elrond turned back to Elrohir and had to admit to himself that, despite what he just said to Elladan, in the back of his mind there was a small seed of doubt. Nobody knew for sure what had really happened. Elladan certainly seemed to be harboring a lot of guilt, even though that did not necessarily mean anything.

If Elrohir ever woke up, Elrond doubted he would be able to shed any more light on the situation. Elrond sighed to himself as he checked his son’s bandage. What a disaster.

TBC

Chapter Five

By nightfall there had been no improvement in Elrohir’s condition. The stress and worry was starting to make everyone irritable. Finally Elrond ordered everyone to leave his son’s chamber to get some food and sleep.

“Driving each other insane and exhausting ourselves is helping no one,” he pointed out as he pushed the protesting group out the door. Then, turning back to his injured son, Elrond resumed his vigil.

The elf-lord was starting to doubt that Elrohir would make it through the night; the young elf had bled right through five bandages and now was running a high fever. Elrond placed a cool cloth on his son’s forehead and frowned as he saw blood seeping through the bandage around his chest. The wound refused to stop bleeding.

What would he tell Celebrian if Elrohir died? He could not sail to the Grey Havens without one of their children. With Estel, Elrond was prepared to eventually lose a child. Estel was human, a mortal. Elrond had always known that the day would eventually come when he passed on. But Elrohir was an elf, an immortal. He was not supposed to meet with death.

Bitter tears stung Elrond’s eyes as he leaned down and kissed his son’s warm head. “You cannot leave us, my son,” he whispered. Picking up where he had left off, the elf-lord began to pour his strength into his son, knowing he was already running low. He just hoped it would be enough.

*****

Legolas watched with a frown as Elladan pushed the food on his plate around with his fork. The blond elf did not like being so suspicious of his friend but he could not help it. How else had Elladan’s arrow ended up in Elrohir’s chest? Legolas considered Aragorn’s theory that the arrow had been stolen. It was the preferable theory, Legolas admitted, but how likely was that?

A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Elladan was his friend and that he knew how much the older twin loved his brother. Legolas felt a pang of guilt for suspecting his friend. He knew that Elladan shooting Elrohir under any circumstances was just as far-fetched as any other theory he and Aragorn had come up with, but until they knew what happened, Legolas was not throwing any possibility aside.

****

After they had finished their dinner, Elladan, Aragorn, and Legolas followed Glorfindel back up to Elrohir’s room. Elrond was finishing changing the bandage around his chest. The grim face he wore scared Aragorn.

“He went through another bandage?” Glorfindel asked, his tone as grim as the expression on the elf-lord’s face.

Elrond just nodded. Suddenly he looked older and more tired than Aragorn had ever seen him. “Old” was not a word normally used to describe an elf.

“Get some rest, mellon nin,” Glorfindel said to his friend as he approached Elrond. “You have already given nearly all your strength to him, you cannot kill yourself trying to heal him.”

“Ada, I will stay with him,” Elladan offered, cutting his father off from protesting.

“I will stay as well,” Legolas put in a little too quickly, stealing a glance at the older twin.

Elladan stared hard at the prince. “You think I did it, Legolas?”

The blond elf hesitated. “I do not know,” he admitted finally.

“We have been friends since the day we met, nearly 2,000 years ago. Now you honestly believe that I am the one who put Elrohir in this condition?” Elladan cried.

Legolas was silent. Aragorn shifted his weight uncomfortably. Elladan looked between the two of them and then to his father and Glorfindel, both of whom wore awkward expressions on their faces and refused to meet his eyes. Elrond’s eldest son realized then that they all had their doubts. Angrily, he turned and left his twin’s chamber in a hurry.

There was another moment of awkward of silence before Elrond spoke. “I trust you are still willing to sit with Elrohir for a few hours, Legolas?”

“Of course, Milord.”

Elrond nodded gratefully. “I will come back as soon as I am rested, but if anything happens promise me you will come get me.”

“Come get me as well,” Glorfindel added. The younger elf nodded to them both as they headed out the door. Elrond cast a worried glance at his injured son before shutting the door behind him.

Legolas looked at Aragorn expectantly.

“I am staying here,” the human told him defiantly, taking a seat next to Elrohir. Legolas said nothing in reply; he took the chair on the other side of the bed.

A cool breeze blew through the room and Aragorn shivered. All was quiet except for the chirping of crickets outside. Legolas hoped for a quiet night but feared it was not to be.

*********

Elladan stormed into his room and headed straight to his quiver of arrows. Pulling them out, he sat on his bed and counted them. Fifty. Exactly the number he’d had the previous morning when his brothers and Legolas had left on their hunt. Sighing with frustration, the elf counted them again and came up with the same number.

Staring down at his arrows, Elladan wondered how, if he was not missing any arrows, one of them had ended up hitting his brother. He had held the arrow in his hands himself; he knew without a doubt it was his arrow, unless someone had gone to all the trouble to make an exact replica of his just to kill Elrohir. Who would do that?

Remembering that he had told his father he would sit with Elrohir, the elf put his arrows away. He realized that Legolas and probably Aragorn were sitting with his twin. Going to Elrohir’s chambers would mean having to confront them. How could he look at them knowing they actually thought him guilty?

Elrohir was his twin brother, his best friend. Even when they were extremely angry with each other, as Elladan had been with Elrohir, they were the closest of friends. Elladan would rather die than face this world without his twin brother. He could not believe Aragorn and Legolas actually thought he had shot Elrohir. What was worse, his own father had doubts, as did Glorfindel. They were supposed to know him better than nearly anyone else in all Middle Earth.

Elladan decided he did not have to talk to his human brother or his friend, but they were not going to stop him from sitting with his twin. Elrohir needed him now. He had not been there when his brother was hurt, but the older twin was not going to let anyone stop him from being there now. He would find whoever did this as soon as his brother was well. Elrohir would recover, Elladan told himself. He was not about to let his brother die.

TBC

Thanks for the reviews so far, please keep them coming!

Thank you so much to Bill the Pony for beta'ing this chapter for me, and to Leheara for all her help on this chapter as well.

Chapter Six

Elladan closed the door to his room and headed down the hallway to his twin’s room. He hoped Elrohir was doing better; he knew that there needed to be a change for the better soon.

As he walked, he saw Arwen coming down the hallway towards him, a frown on her face.

“I heard Ada telling Glorfindel he was not sure if Elrohir would make it through the night,” she told him sadly, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Elladan returned his sister’s frown. “’Ro must be doing better,” he assured her. “Ada would not have left his side otherwise.”

Arwen nodded and looked to the floor. “Was it really your arrow that hit him?”

Elladan nodded and swallowed hard. “But I did not shoot him, Arwen, I swear to it.”

Arwen forced a smile but Elladan could see the doubt in her eyes. Shaking his head with frustration, he stepped past her, not caring to talk to her anymore.

*****

Aragorn replaced the warm cloth on his brother’s forehead with a cool one and sighed. From across the bed, Legolas shifted in his chair.

“The bleeding seems to have stopped,” Legolas said, a trace of hope in his voice.

Aragorn nodded, grateful for that much. He recalled the long ride home the previous night with Elrohir in his arms. The ranger had feared his brother would not even survive the trip home, but now hours later he still lived; he still fought to hold on. If only now his fever would break.

Aragorn turned his head at the sound of the door opening to see Elladan walk into the room. The human was hit with a pang of guilt for suspecting the older twin. Before all this, Aragorn would have sworn that Elladan would never do anything to harm Elrohir. He had been witness to the twins’ close bond to each other ever since he could remember. But the ranger simply could not dismiss that the younger twin had been shot by the older’s arrow. Elladan had not asked what had happened, nor had he been surprised to learn his brother was hurt. What struck Aragorn above everything else was that Elladan had not gone on the scouting trip because he had been angry with his twin.

Elladan said nothing to Aragorn or Legolas as he pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. Aragorn glanced at Legolas, who was avoiding looking at the dark-haired elf. Aragorn saw a trace of guilt in the blond’s eyes as well, but he knew that Legolas was more suspicious than he himself was.

A noise from the window caught the attention of the three sitting by the bed. They all turned their heads at the same time. Aragorn saw a shadow standing on the balcony, with long hair wavering slightly in the wind. Because of the curtains Aragorn could only see a silhouette. The ranger knew it was an elf, but wondered who it was and why he or she was standing on Elrohir’s balcony.

Slowly the strange elf opened the door that led into the room and stepped inside, coming into view. The strange elf had straight, long ebony hair and piercing green eyes. An icy ran down Aragorn’s spine at the cold expression on his face.

Elladan was on his feet immediately, matching the stranger’s bone chilling glare. Aragorn looked to Legolas, who had also risen to his feet with an expression of anger on his face.

“What in Illuvitar are you doing here?” Elladan demanded, his tone icier than Aragorn had ever heard from him.

“So he still lives, does he?” the dark elf stated, turning his gaze to the unconscious elf in the bed. “I always knew he was stubborn but it appears I underestimated him.”

“So it was you,” Elladan concluded, mentally kicking himself. “Only you would wish my brother dead by my arrow.”

The dark elf just smirked. “It was a perfect set up, I must admit. Though I did not expect Lord Elrond to believe it. Now that was priceless. How did it feel, realizing your own father thought you might be guilty?”

Elladan’s blood boiled. “You made a grave mistake coming here,” he seethed. “You were lucky my father merely banished you last time, don’t think he will make that mistake again.”

The older twin then turned to his human brother. “Estel, go get Ada. Tell him Celedur is here. He will know who you mean.”

Aragorn only hesitated for a moment before leaving the room to fetch his father.

*********

Elrond hurried down the hallway to his son’s room, Glorfindel on his heels and Aragorn a few paces behind. The elf-lord entered to see Celedur standing near the door to the balcony, a smirk on his face. Elladan stood, looking furious, in the middle of the room, while Legolas, though still on his feet, remained by the bed.

“You know better than to be here,” Elrond spoke to Celedur, fury lacing his voice.

Celedur just smiled. “There is no punishment you can give to me worse than what I have already suffered. I know what awaits me and at this point, death is welcome. I embrace it. I have spent the last 500 years wandering Middle Earth alone. If it weren't for your twin sons, I would not have been alone!"

“Neither of them are responsible for what happened the day your brother died; and as for your exile you brought that upon yourself.”

Celedur’s eyes became even darker, if possible. “Was it fair for me to come back from that hunt without my brother, while they still had each other?”

“That is enough,” Elrond cut the dark elf off calmly. “Glorfindel, get the guards, have them place Celedur under arrest.”

“Elrond,” Legolas called as Glorfindel rushed out of the room. “Elrohir is bleeding again.”

Elrond dashed to his son’s side and with Legolas and Aragorn’s help began to unwrap the bandage wrapped tightly around the injured elf’s chest.

“Ada, can you not stop the bleeding?” Aragorn asked as he gently pulled the bandage from underneath his brother.

Elrond frowned as he applied more herbs to his son’s wound. “I have already stitched it and given him herbs to stop the bleeding. These should help, but the wound must stop bleeding itself.”

“He has lost so much blood,” Legolas commented. “He will die soon if it does not stop.”

“Where is he?” Glorfindel exclaimed, referring to Celedur, as he rushed back into the room, two guards behind him.

Elrond grabbed a fresh bandage and looked behind him to the balcony where Celedur had been standing. He was gone.

“Where is Elladan?” Aragorn wondered aloud, for the older twin was not in the room either.

“Valar,” Elrond muttered to himself. “Find them now!” he snapped to the guards, who immediately rushed out behind Glorfindel. Legolas followed them.

Elrond finished his ministrations and wrapped the new bandage around Elrohir’s chest. Then he sighed as he dipped the cloth that had been on his son’s head in cold water and placed it back on his head.

“We must break his fever,” Elrond told his human soon calmly, although his eyes betrayed the desperation he felt.

“Ada who is Celedur?” the ranger asked, his eyes on his injured brother.

The elf-lord sighed and took his son’s hand in his. “He was once a close friend of Elladan and Elrohir’s. He is only a few weeks older than they; they grew up together, and they received their warrior training together. Celedur had a younger brother, Orodun. The four of them were once best friends. They went out on a hunt one day about 500 years ago, much like the one the three of you went on, and encountered a band of orcs. Orodun took an arrow that was meant for Elladan. To the chest, actually.” Elrond frowned at the irony and glanced back down at Elrohir, whose deathly pale face was beaded with sweat. “He was dead before they could get back here. Celedur went insane after that and blamed the twins, especially Elladan. He vowed revenge and one night even almost killed Elladan. I took pity on him because of the loss he had suffered and spared him his life; I banished him from Rivendell and the other Elvish realms. It would appear I made a mistake in doing so.”

Silence fell over the room as Elrond picked up the herbs to put them away.

“It did not occur to you that he was behind this?” Aragorn questioned finally, when Elrond sat back down.

“I thought him dead a long time ago,” Elrond answered. “But he must have been planning this for a long time. Elladan did not even notice any of his arrows were missing.”

The human thought for a minute. “Ada, there is one thing that still troubles me,” he continued. “Elladan was not surprised to see Elrohir when we arrived this morning. He did not even ask us what had happened. It was as if he already knew.”

Elrond nodded. “I would guess he did already know. Estel, you know that the bond between the twins is deep but I am not sure you understand just how deep.” At the blank look he received, the elf-lord continued. “You have not been witness to this because it has not happened in nearly 300 years, but in extreme situations, the twins can feel each other’s pain. It was a bond that I shared with my twin brother, Elros, and it is not pleasant. Elladan and Elrohir have only experienced it a few times.”

“So Elladan could feel the pain that Elrohir was in?” the young human asked, his eyes wide.

Elrond nodded again. “It also happens with extreme emotional distress,” he explained. “Elrohir has been unconscious nearly the entire time but Elladan has not. I suspect that is why he has been so quiet.”

“Does their connection mean that if Elrohir dies then Elladan will as well?”

As this the elf-lord shook his head. “No. Elladan can feel Elrohir’s injury but he himself is not injured.” The elf looked at his foster son. “If Elrohir dies it will be grief that will kill Elladan. You and I both know that neither of them would want to live without the other. If I lose them both, it would be only you and Arwen to keep me from following. But let us hope we will not have to face that.”

Aragorn nodded his agreement. “Let us also hope that Elladan will forgive us for doubting him.”

TBC

Huge thank you to Eleni and Kar for helping me with the first scene, and to Cathy my wonderful beta reader!

Chapter Seven

When Celedur bolted out of Elrohir’s room Elladan was quick to go after him. The older elf jumped from the balcony and into a nearby tree; Elladan following with ease. He chased Celedur through the trees until at last the dark elf jumped down to the ground and raced into the courtyard.

Elladan was quickly gaining on his former friend. Celedur must have realized it because finally, when the two elves were in the middle of the courtyard, he turned abruptly and drew his sword. Elladan stopped and unsheathed his as well, glaring dangerously at the elf who had shot his brother.

“It is just you and me,” Celedur told him. “Your brother is not here to back you up. I bet you wonder how I did it, how I had one of your arrows to shoot Elrohir with?”

Elladan said nothing.

“When my brother jumped in front of that arrow for you, you dropped the one you held in your hand. You never picked it up … but I did. I have waited for centuries to be able to get you back for that day.”

“And you have had this planned ever since?” Elladan retorted, unable to fathom to depth of his old friend’s betrayal.

“I wanted you to feel the same pain, the same emptiness I have felt for the last 500 years. The opportunity just fell into my lap. I did not hunt Elrohir down, I came upon him by accident. I knew the opportunity when I saw it, and it nearly worked.”

“Elrohir is not dead,” Elladan reminded him.

“Maybe not. But only one of us is walking away from this.”

“I will take you down,” the younger elf hissed in reply.

The elves sized each other up, searching for weaknesses. As they advanced, they circled around, each waiting for the other to act.

A breeze blew through the courtyard as Elladan swung his sword in Celedur’s direction. The dark elf blocked the shot and swung around, bringing his blade back towards his opponent, who easily blocked the sword. The sound of their swords clashing echoed through the courtyard as light rain turned to a downpour from the dark sky.

Elladan cursed as Celedur’s sword grazed his shoulder, ripping the cloth and tearing the skin. Forcing himself to concentrate against the pain, he parried a thrust from Celedur. The younger elf turned, bringing his sword down and inwards toward the other elf’s side.

His sword caught Celedur in the ribs as his opponent turned to try and dodge the blade. The sword drew blood and sent the dark elf stumbling forward. Elladan took the opportunity to thrust his sword into his opponent’s shoulder.

Celedur cried out, half in pain and half in anger, as Elladan withdrew his sword. Lashing out, the older elf swung his sword upwards, into Elladan’s thigh. He pulled it out and swung again as the younger elf fell, but Elladan swung back, sending Celedur’s sword flying through the air, landing several feet out of arm’s reach.

Elladan rose unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily on his left leg, and put the tip of his sword to his old friend’s throat. Panting hard, he glared down at Celedur, who stared back up at him as if he dared Elladan to kill him right then.

“Elladan! Do not kill him!” Glorfindel’s voice resonated through the courtyard as he raced to the pair, two guards behind him. “Put down the sword and let the guards arrest him,” he continued calmly when he had reached them.

“He does not deserve to live,” the younger elf fumed between breaths.

“Let your father be the one to decide that,” Glorfindel replied as he laid his hand on Elladan’s arm.

Elladan reluctantly lowered his sword, handing it to Glorfindel. Celedur sprang to his feet, lunging at Elladan. Before Glorfindel could catch them, both elves stumbled to the floor, the older one punching Elladan in the nose. As the guards pulled Celedur off Elladan, the dark elf growled.

Elladan wiped the blood from his nose and he watched the guards take his former friend away as Legolas joined him and Glorfindel.

“Are you all right? What happened?” the blond elf asked his friend.

“I am fine,” Elladan replied shortly.

“No, you are not, you are injured,” Glorfindel protested, shaking his head. He half-led, half-carried the twin to a nearby bench. “Legolas, have Elrond come out to take a look at these injuries.”

“No!” Elladan insisted, trying to stand up but being pushed back down by Legolas. “I am fine!”

“Somebody needs to treat your injuries Elladan,” Glorfindel lectured in a firm tone.

“Fine, then you do it.”

Glorfindel sighed, resigned. “If that is how you want it.”

He and Legolas helped Elladan into the Halls of Healing. Legolas sat down next to Elladan as Glorfindel gathered some bandages and herbs. The dark-haired elf kept his eyes on the ground.

“Elladan, mellon nin,” the blond elf started slowly, almost hesitantly. “I am sorry I thought that you--,”

“That I shot my own twin brother?” Elladan snarled, still keeping his eyes to the floor.

Legolas bowed his head in defeat. “I truly am sorry,” he repeated, not knowing what else to say. “I did not know what to think, the circumstances were so strange.” There was a moment of silence. “Listen, I just hope you can forgive me.”

“I am glad my brother has you looking out for him,” Elladan said quietly.

Legolas sighed and slumped his shoulders, knowing that was the best he was going to get.

“Legolas I would appreciate it if you would inform Elrond of what has happened,” Glorfindel requested to the blond elf as he prepared to clean Elladan’s wounds. “Tell him that we will be up shortly.”

Legolas nodded and headed for the door, turning his head back at the door. The scowl on Elladan’s face made the prince cringe. The older twin was obviously not going to forget that everyone had thought he was guilty anytime soon.

*******

Elrond had almost reached the halls of healing when he saw his eldest son emerge from the doorway, Glorfindel behind him. The elf-lord cringed at the limp Elladan walked with and noticed his left arm was bound to his chest, keeping it still.

“Let me see your injuries,” he said gently as he approached his son.

Elladan scowled and pushed his father away. “Glorfindel has already treated them.”

Elrond looked to Glorfindel as Elladan retreated, heading for Elrohir’s room. Obviously the older twin had not wanted his father to treat him; the elf-lord recognized the rejection and the hurt that had caused it. Elrond sighed, disappointed with himself. He had let his son down in the biggest way possible. He knew he had to find a way to make it up to Elladan but did not know where to begin, or if he could ever truly make it up.

*********

Aragorn watched his oldest brother sit in the chair nearest to Elrohir’s bed and winced. Elladan was obviously feeling pain from the injuries he had received, but Aragorn was not surprised that the elf had refused to take anything for the pain. Knowing Elrond the painkillers would have knocked Elladan out for the entire night and Elladan would not allow it.

“Did Glorfindel give you anything for the pain Elladan?” Legolas asked the dark-haired elf, catching the human off guard. Why had Glorfindel treated Elladan and not Elrond? When Legolas had informed the elf-lord and the ranger of the sword fight he had not said that Glorfindel was treating Elladan’s injuries, only that he was in the halls of healing. Suddenly Aragorn realized why—Elladan had not wanted his father to treat him. He was still angry and hurt and was not about to let it go.

Elladan shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. Aragorn’s guilt washed over him as if he was feeling it for the first time and knew now was the time to apologize.

“Elladan, forgive me for thinking the way I did.”

The look he received in response silenced the ranger immediately. He looked back to Legolas, who staring now out the balcony door at the stars.

“If you two do not mind I would like some time alone with Elrohir,” Elladan spoke quietly. The other two nodded and left, running into Elrond and Glorfindel on their way out. They explained Elladan’s wishes to the older two and all four left the twins in peace.

Elladan studied his brother’s pale features for a moment before inhaling deeply. “Elrohir you cannot leave me like this,” he whispered to his twin as he took Elrohir’s limp hand in his. The dim elven glow of his brother scared Elladan more than anything. “They all thought I shot you, ‘Ro.” Elladan’s voice cracked. “Even Ada. You are the only one who really knows me, who really understands me. You cannot leave me here alone.”

TBC

Again many thanks to my beta reader, Cathy! *cheers*

Chapter Eight

Glorfindel walked into Elrohir’s chamber and smiled slightly at the scene in front of him. Elladan slept in a chair, his head slumped back and his arm still bound to his chest. Aragorn also slept in a chair, on the opposite side of the bed, although his upper body was bent forward onto his brother’s bed, his head close to Elrohir’s.

‘He will have quite the backache when he wakes up,’ the blond elf thought to himself as his eyes drifted to Legolas, who slept on the couch at the foot of the bed. Glorfindel sighed, but was still smiling as it occurred to him that all three knew they had comfortable beds waiting for them just down the hall.

With that thought, Glorfindel approached Elladan, whose eyes were nearly entirely shut, and gently shook him awake, mindful of the younger elf’s injuries from the fight the previous night. As he returned to consciousness, Elladan winced at the pain from his wounds.

Glorfindel winced as well, in sympathy. “Go to bed,” he instructed gently. “You will heal better with proper rest.”

“I am rested enough,” the dark-haired elf grimaced as he pulled himself slowly into an upright position.

Knowing better than to argue with Elladan, Glorfindel turned to Elrohir. “How many times did you change his bandage last night?” the blond elf asked the older twin as he inspected Elrohir’s current bandage.

“None,” Elladan replied. “Why, did he bleed through that one?”

“No, he did not,” Glorfindel said, relief flooding him. “It would appear the wound has finally stopped bleeding.”

“And his fever?”

The small smile on Glorfindel’s face returned to a frown as he checked Elrohir’s fever. “It has not gone down,” he replied with a sigh. The older elf moved to the other side of the bed to wake Aragorn as Elladan pulled himself to his feet.

Again, Elladan winced and he put one hand to the wall to take his weight off his injured leg.

“That is it, to bed now,” Glorfindel demanded as he came back over to the younger elf, entirely unphazed by the glare he was receiving from the twin. “Do not make me carry you like a small child, Elladan. You are in no condition to fight with me.”

Begrudgingly, the dark-haired elf allowed Glorfindel to help him to his room, where the older elf fixed him a cup of tea while Elladan changed. Once again, Glorfindel had to threaten him to get Elladan to drink the tea but soon enough the younger elf was settled in his bed in a light healing sleep.

****

Elrond slowly made his way down the dark cellar, holding a lantern in front of him to provide light. His eyes settled on Celedur, who sat in a chair in ropes, feigning sleep. The elf-lord was not fooled for a second; he knew the younger elf was awake and aware of his surroundings.

Coming to a halt, Elrond regarded the elf in front of him, recalling him in his younger years. He had been Elladan and Elrohir’s best friend. Elrond remembered liking Celedur very much then. He had always been ambitious when it came to his fighting skills, more so than even Elladan. Up until Orodun’s death, the elf-lord had never thought anything wrong with that. It was only after Celedur had attacked Elladan with his daggers in the middle of the night that the twins stepped up their training until their fighting skills matched Celedur’s.

Elrond was glad to have encouraged them, but never more so than he was now. Elladan had always been good with a sword, better than most, but had he engaged in a duel with Celedur five hundred years ago, the twin would have lost. In fact it was Elrohir’s skills with his daggers that had saved Elladan that night all those centuries ago.

The elf-lord remembered looking down at Celedur in this same place then; how he had been overcome with pity and compassion for Celedur even after spending hours to heal his oldest son.

Celedur was almost swallowed by grief then over his brother and Elrond had held the opinion that Celedur probably did not realize what he was doing when he attacked Elladan. However, this time was a different matter. Celedur had chosen to let rage overcome him instead of grief, and Celedur had known exactly what he was doing when he shot Elrohir. An attack on Elrond or one of his children was punishable by death, as was entering an elvish realm during exile, and Elrond would not have mercy a second time around.

“I know you are awake; you do not have to pretend,” the elf-lord announced with a sigh.

Celedur’s eyes became focused as he lifted his gaze to the other elf. “How are your sons?” he asked with a smirk. “I do hope you have not come to me with news of Elrohir’s death. How the entire land would grieve.”

“Do not think you can bait me,” the older elf replied calmly, inwardly seething. “You were banished from all elvish realms under the punishment of death; you will not escape this fate twice.”

The smile faded from Celedur’s face, but he did not look surprised or upset. “Good then. I will finally be reunited with my brother.”

****

Elladan slept through the day and did not awake until the sun had set. As he pulled himself out of bed, he found his injuries troubled him less. Quickly Elladan changed clothes and hurried down to his twin’s room, for he had felt a change with his brother, but could not discern if it was for the better or worse.

As he entered Elrohir’s room, the older twin saw his father, human brother, Legolas, Arwen and Glorfindel all huddled around the bed in nervous silence. From between Elrond’s and Aragorn’s forms he could see Elrohir’s arm draped on his side, and his chest, which did not appear to be rising and falling.

Elladan felt the color drain from his face and the air empty from his lungs. He had always thought that if Elrohir died he would be able to feel it—he would know right away even if he was not there. He had always been able to tell when Elrohir was gravely hurt or deeply distressed, due to their connection. Surely if his twin was gone and their connection severed, he would know…

“Ada?” he managed to croak, his voice shaking. The five around the bed turned at once to him and then Elrond stepped forward.

“We are just trying to lower his fever,” the older elf assured his son, placing his hands on Elladan’s shoulders.

Elladan sighed heavily with relief, still feeling shaky.

“Actually it has gone down a little bit,” Elrond continued. “We were hoping he would wake up soon.”

Elladan nodded and stepped past his father, taking a seat next to the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Elrond asked, stepping next to his son. “Are your injuries healing well?”

“Yes, I am fine,” Elladan replied, shaking his father off. “Do you really think he will wake up soon?”

“We hope so, but his fever is still too high. It needs to be broken.”

Again Elladan nodded, remaining silent this time. He was so focused on his twin that he did not notice that Arwen, Aragorn, Glorfindel, and Legolas had left until Elrond spoke again.

“Can we talk ion nin?” the elf-lord caught his eldest’s attention. Elladan looked at him and then around the room, surprised that the others had left.

Elrond sighed. “My son, I am so sorry I had any doubts about you shooting Elrohir.”

“Forget about it,” Elladan replied in a low, cold voice, turning back to his twin.

“I cannot. I feel terribly about it. I should have known better,” Elrond sighed.

“Yes you should have.” Elladan was unable to hide the hurt in his voice and Elrond’s heart twisted inside of him.

“I only hope you will be able to forgive me.”

Elladan turned angry eyes on his father. “I do not understand how you, above anyone else, could think that of me.”

“I was not thinking clearly, I remembered Aragorn handing me your arrow--,”

“And how upset I was with Elrohir? That does not mean it was me. Did you even try to think of another explanation?”

“Of course I did!” Elrond cried. “You did not hear me accusing you, did you? Let me ask you something. If circumstances were different, and it was Estel’s arrow that had hit Elrohir and not yours, what would you think?”

There was a pause. “I do not know,” the twin admitted finally.

“I think you would have been hard pressed to have had no doubts,” the elf-lord told his son gently. “I have apologized from the bottom of my heart, ion nin, I have admitted that I should have known better. If there is anything I can do to make this up—,”

“There is nothing,” Elladan cut his father off. Again silence filled the room.

“Very well,” Elrond spoke finally. “Just know my apologies are sincere. You will never know how deeply my remorse runs. I believe Estel wants to speak with you.”

Elladan did not watch his father leave the room; he kept his eyes to the floor until he heard the door close. Then he lifted his gaze to his unconscious twin and sighed. No doubt Aragorn wanted to apologize, but the elf was already sick of hearing it.

Deciding he could not put it off much longer, the elf promised his twin to return shortly and headed for the door. Just as he opened it and was about to step out of the room, a weak voice from behind him called out to him.

“Elladan?”

TBC

Don't forget to review!

Many thanks to Cathy, my wonderful beta reader!

For a disclaimer, see the first chapter.

Chapter Nine

Elladan whirled around at the sound of his brother’s voice. Dashing back to the bed, he grabbed Elrohir’s hand gently and beamed down at him.

Elrohir looked up at his twin with pained, glazed eyes but managed to return the smile.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you awake, ‘Ro,” Elladan told him, his heart nearly bursting with joy. “Are you in a lot of pain? And do not lie to me if you are.”

“My chest feels like it was embedded with a thousand arrows,” the younger twin replied, his voice a bit scratchy as his throat was parched. “What happened?”

Elladan told him what happened with Celedur, conveniently leaving out the sword fight between him and the other elf, and that Celedur had shot the younger twin with Elladan’s arrow. But, as usual, Elrohir could tell that Elladan was not telling him something.

“You are not telling me something, Elladan,” the bedridden elf accused, glaring at his twin. “Tell me what it is.”

“I should get Ada, he will want to know you are awake,” Elladan said evasively. As Elrohir was too weak to stop his twin from leaving, he had to wait for an answer as Elladan went to fetch their father.

Elrond looked relieved and joyful as he rushed into Elrohir’s room, followed closely by Elladan, Aragorn, Legolas, Glorfindel and Arwen. Arwen stood on the side of the bed opposite her father and grabbed her brother’s hand affectionately.

“How do you feel ion nin?” Elrond asked as he checked his son’s fever.

“My chest hurts,” the younger elf replied softly, pain in his voice.

Elrond nodded compassionately. “It will for some time, I am afraid. You were lucky, though. There were moments I did not think you would pull through.”

The elf-lord turned away to make some tea for Elrohir and Aragorn took his place next to the bed.

“Do not ever make me carry you home like that again,” the ranger told his brother gently. “You scared me nearly to death!”

“Sorry Estel,” Elrohir replied, a soft apologetic smile on his face. Aragorn was smiling back, clearly thinking there was nothing to forgive.

Elladan was also smiling down at Elrohir from the foot of the bed, looking as if all was right in the world. Elrohir’s eyes slowly scanned the room to see Glorfindel and Legolas, and he smiled at them as well. A strange feeling in his stomach, however, told the injured elf that all was not well among the people he loved so much. A frown turned over on his face as Elrond returned to his side with a cup of tea.

“Do not make me drink that,” Elrohir whined pathetically.

“If you do not drink it willingly, I will pour it down your throat,” Elrond threatened calmly. Elrohir just grinned in reply.

Very carefully, the elf-lord helped his son sit up just enough to be able to drink the tea. With every inch he moved, Elrohir’s chest protested loudly and he grimaced. The others cringed, and Elladan almost didn’t notice himself bringing his hand up to his own chest.

When he had finished the tea, his father didn’t move, but rather leaned the younger elf back against him, happily cradling his son in his arms as he had not done since Elrohir was a child. Elrohir, for his part, did not complain because he did not have to lean all the way back down to the bed, and secretly, he really did not mind being held by his father at this moment. And anyways, he was much too weak to protest.

“Now would someone tell me what is going on?” he inquired of the others in the room, fighting off the sleep that the tea was bringing on.

“What do you mean, ‘Ro?” Legolas asked. All eyes were on Elrohir except for Elladan, who knew what Elrohir was asking.

“Why is there so much tension between all of you? What happened?” Elrohir forced his eyes to remain open as he stared around at his family.

Seeing that Elrohir would refuse to go to sleep until his questions had been satisfied, Elrohir told them what Elladan had told him and demanded to know the rest. After an awkward silence, Elrond sighed and filled his son in on the parts Elladan had omitted.

“And you all really thought it was him?” Elrohir demanded, looking furious even in his condition. Elladan’s eyes were still on the floor, not wanting to discuss this subject at all. The others all harbored guilty looks but no one answered Elrohir’s question.

After an awkward moment of silence, Elrond shifted and eased his son down to the bed. “You need to rest, ion nin. We can discuss this later.” He ignored Elrohir’s fierce glare and pulled the sheets up to his son’s shoulders. Within seconds, Elrohir was in a healing sleep, and his father felt his forehead to gauge a temperature.

“Still a little higher than I would like,” he said, mostly to himself, “but it should go down quickly.” He turned to the others. “There, you see? All will be well, although it will take him some time to recover. Elladan, you must be hungry as you missed dinner.”

Elladan nodded and turned to the door, followed by Aragorn and Legolas, leaving the other three with Elrohir. The dark-haired elf could hear his human brother’s footfalls behind him, following him into the dining hall where food waited.

“Did you two not already eat?” Elladan asked with only a hint of impatience as he took his seat at the table.

“I’ve eaten little since Elrohir was shot,” Aragorn admitted, putting some food on his plate. “It was wonderful to see him awake finally.”

Elladan nodded and reached for some food as well. “It was,” he had to agree.

“So do you have any plans of revenge for his prank?” Legolas asked, a mirthful gleam in his eye.

Elladan blinked, startled at first by the question but then he smiled. “I’d had a few ideas that first day you three were gone, but anything I decide on will have to wait until he’s fully recovered.”

Aragorn and Legolas both nodded, and promptly got into a fight over the food. Elladan smiled to himself, knowing they were purposely avoiding the subject of their doubts against them and that they were trying to distract him. He also knew they hoped that he was no longer angry with them.

He found he was glad for their company and the distraction they provided. Elrohir’s awakening had lifted a huge weight from his chest and he knew he could not hold his family’s doubts against them anymore. His father had been right—had it been Estel’s arrow Elladan might have done worse than merely have doubts. Now that Elrohir was recovering, the older twin saw no need to pull their family apart.

“Well I would not have spilled the wine all over you last time if you had not tripped me!” Aragorn protested to Legolas indignantly.

“Oh, yes, Estel, I tripped you from in front of you,” Legolas replied dryly. “A likely story.”

“It’s true!” the ranger insisted. Elladan grinned. When this incident had happened those two argued over it for days. Of course he had no intention of letting either of them know that he and Elrohir had been behind Estel’s “trip.” Just one of the many secrets the twins shared that they’d never tell another living soul. It was great to be a twin.

*****

Elrond spent the entire night awake in Elrohir’s room, watching the steady rising and falling of his son’s chest, thanking Illuvitar that Elrohir would live. Two long days of fretting and worrying had come to a peaceful end. And now Elrond had only one concern—Elladan.

Last he spoke with eldest son, Elladan was not about to forgive him or anybody else. Perhaps things were different now that Elrohir had awakened, but when the younger twin had found out he had seemed very upset about it. He well understood the reason, but the elf-lord knew that with Elrohir behind him, Elladan was even less likely to forgive. And Elrond could still lose them both.

Would they really let that happen? One thing Elrond had always been especially proud of about his family was the close bond they all shared with each other. That bond had even extended to Estel when he joined the family. Elrond would not see it destroyed now.

A painful whimper alerted him to Elrohir waking up. Slowly the elf-lord rose and smiled down at his son.

“Are you still in a lot of pain?” he asked Elrohir gently. The younger elf just nodded. “I can make more tea for you but I am afraid it would only knock you out again.”

“That would be wonderful,” Elrohir told his father, who nodded and turned instantly to make a cup.

“I am also afraid you will have to miss the annual banquet tonight,” he said as he returned and handed the cup to his son, who had painfully pushed himself up enough to drink his tea.

Elrohir grinned between sips. “You mean I do not have to put on my formal robes and be on my best behavior? I am so disappointed.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Elrond resisted the urge to whack the other elf upside the head but could not repress a small chuckle.

“Unfortunately, I must be there, and so must your brothers and your sister. But as you will more than likely sleep away the next several days I suppose that does not matter that much.”

Elrohir murmured an agreement as he sank back down in his bed. Elrond bent down to kiss his sleeping son’s forehead and then turned to leave, leaving the injured elf alone for the first time since getting home.

TBC

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

Many many thanks to Alex, who lovingly beta'ed this for me. And also thanks to Cathy, my usual beta, for all her work on my other previous chapters. *huggles to both*

Okay, here it is! The end! You guys never thought it would come did you? LOL. I was starting to think the same. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, it encouraged me so much. Also thanks to those who read it but did not review. You guys are all awesome, lol.

Chapter Eleven

“ELLADAN! I’m going to kill you!”

With these words, the peaceful quiet that had fallen over Imladris fled. Aragorn and Legolas, who were at the time eating breakfast with Elrond and Arwen, both turned in their seats just in time to see Elladan running past the doorway as if his life depended on getting away. Seconds later Elrohir flew past as well. As his long hair trailed past him, Legolas would have sworn that the usually dark black hair looked blue.

Exchanging a quizzical glance with each other, the ranger and the elven prince missed the amused looks Elrond and Arwen gave each other.

“What in Arda is going on?” the human asked as all four followed the twins.

The onlookers halted atop the broad staircase leading down to the courtyard, where Elrohir was still chasing his twin.

“Is ‘Ro’s hair blue?” Aragorn screeched incredulously.

Legolas chuckled. At this distance even Aragorn could see that his elven brother’s hair was blue. In the direct sunlight, it was even more pronounced.

“It is,” Elrond replied, the tips of his mouth starting to turn upward in amusement.

“Should he be running around like that Ada?” Arwen spoke up, concern in her voice and on her face.

Elrohir had slept away the days following Celedur’s death, but, as Elrond had predicted, by the end of the week, he was out of bed. The following week had Elrohir's entire family, and Legolas, trying to prevent the younger twin from being too active, a task that they found to be nearly impossible.

It did not help that Elrohir was still angry about the accusations made against Elladan. He had even refused to even talk to anyone but his twin for several days. Elrond hoped that the fact that Elladan had forgiven everyone would help his other son to do the same. The Elven Lord also knew a part of the problem was Elrohir’s annoyance at being seen as weak or vulnerable. Once he was fully recovered, he would be more himself, Elrond was sure of it.

“It should not harm him,” the older elf replied. “I think having some physical activity will be good for him. He will probably be tired later, though, but at least he will not protest too much this time when I send him to bed.”

Elrond’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Elrohir stop suddenly, clutching his chest. As the father was about to rush down to his son, the young elf suddenly jumped his twin, who had hurried over out of concern.

His heart beating again, Elrond shook his head and sighed. “I might have known he would pull something like that,” he told his two youngest children and Legolas, who were all snickering.

“I suppose I had better prepare some soaps and herbs to wash ‘Ro’s hair,” Arwen groaned, looking annoyed. “Last time this happened, it took us nearly four days to get all the dye out!”

“This happened before?” Aragorn questioned, his brow raised.

“Oh, yes. Elrohir’s hair was a bright shade of green,” Arwen explained. Debating whether to laugh at the memory or scowl at having to repeat the experience, the young Lady of Imladris threw up her hands and walked back inside.

“I must say he deserved it this time,” Elrond commented as he continued to watch the twins, who were wrestling on the ground. “I am just thankful Elladan knew when Elrohir would be strong enough to handle their sparring.”

*****

“You have to admit you deserved it, ‘Ro,” Elladan laughed as he and Arwen scrubbed away at Elrohir’s hair later that day.

The younger twin scowled but said nothing. Elladan frowned but he was standing behind his brother so Elrohir did not see it. Usually Elrohir was good at taking jokes. The twins had done far worse to each other before. If either of the two were at all bad at taking jokes, it was Elladan, even though it usually took a lot to anger him. The older twin admitted to himself he may have overreacted a bit at Elrohir’s last prank, and wondered what would have happened if he had been on the trip. Shaking those thoughts from his head, Elladan refocused his mind on washing his brother’s hair.

*****

When night fell, Elrohir’s hair was still blue and his mood not much improved. He did not say much at dinner, but assured his father he was well when the concerned elf-lord asked how he was feeling. Elladan was starting to think his brother’s foul mood was due to something more than the prank played this morning. Knowing his brother well, Elladan found his twin at the stables not long after dinner.

“You look tired, should you not be resting?” he asked casually as he strode into the stable.

Elrohir was brushing his horse, which he often did when he was upset over something. He scowled, muttering that he was fine, but did not turn his eyes to meet his brother’s.

“If something is bothering you, you know you can tell me.”

Silence filled the stable as the other elf paused, thinking over his brother’s words. “Do you remember when we were small elflings?” Elrohir asked suddenly. “We used to imagine sailing over to the Grey Havens with—“

“With Celedur and Orodun, I remember,” Elladan sighed. “The four of us used to imagine being in charge of the ship. Now they are both dead. Is that what is bothering you?”

“I accepted Orodun’s death a long time ago,” the younger brother replied. “Although it still brings me sadness at times. I suppose I am having trouble with Celedur’s death. I know he had it coming, but… it all just seems so meaningless.”

“It was meaningless. But he made his own choices, Elrohir, and they were not wise ones. What else was Ada to do? Celedur’s life after Orodun’s death could hardly have been even called an existence.”

“Elves are not supposed to die,” Elrohir said softly.

Elladan nodded his agreement. “A lot of things happen that should not.”

“Like my blue hair?” Elrohir grinned. His twin blinked, momentarily taken aback by his brother’s swift change in mood. He reminded himself that Elrohir had always been able to do that.

“Or you stringing me up in a tree and leaving me there until morning!” the older twin exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

The younger elf threw his head back and laughed heartily. “’Dan, I honestly thought you would get out of that before I came for you. And I meant to come sooner, I swear it.”

“Until you were distracted by a lovely she-elf, I know. Arwen told me. Just what were you two doing that kept you until sunrise?”

Elrohir glared at his brother playfully but did not answer the question. “I did not know you would be so angry about it that you would refuse to go on the trip.”

“It is just as well,” Elladan replied, switching the mood back to serious. “It might have been a far worse disaster if we had both been there.” An awkward pause filled the stables. “I knew the instant you got hit,” he continued. “When I saw you in Ada’s arms… honestly, I did not think you would make it. I do not think Ada held much hope either.”

Instead of replying, Elrohir walked forward and pulled his brother into an embrace. “It is all right, I am well.”

Elladan returned the hug tightly. “Now do not be angry at them for doubting me, ‘Ro.”

At that comment, the younger twin pulled back. “I cannot grasp that any of them actually thought you would do that to me. You have told me that you forgave them, and I believe you, but you cannot hide the hurt you still feel from me. I know better.”

“Yes, I know you do, but I am working on it. We should not let this ruin our family. Amme is counting on us.”

Elrohir nodded, agreeing, but slightly startled by his brother’s mention of their mother.

“Now, you need to get some rest, do not argue!” Elladan pushed his brother out of the stables and towards the main house. He smirked at his brother’s hair, knowing Elrohir would consider it war. Mentally preparing himself for Elrohir’s next prank, the older twin felt the weight of the last two weeks finally lift off his shoulders.

The End

I hope you have all enjoyed the final chapter of this story! Yes, I have mentioned before that I have two prequels to this planned, and I do. But as to when I get around to them, I have no idea, lol. I have some other stories I want to work on first. I am still in shock that this story is finally complete! It is kind of sad, really. LOL. As always please review and tell me your thoughts!