Chapter 9, Early Days at Home

Neither father nor son moved for many moments, both of them thrilled at the unexpected joy of their reunion.  Elrohir, however, was still weakened from exhaustion and eventually had to drop his arms.  The young elf fell back tiredly but was caught firmly by his father. 

As he settled back into the strong arms holding him, he gazed up at the face looking down into his.  A flash of alarm shot through Elrohir as he saw a frown marring the older elf’s visage and a glint of tears in his eyes.  Had he done something wrong?  He looked quickly away but then briefly allowed his eyes to flit once again to his father’s face.  The other elf’s frown had actually deepened.  Suddenly, Elrohir was uncertain about what he’d just done.  His reaction had been purely instinctive--if he’d paused to consider, in all likelihood he would never have thrown himself at one who was in reality a complete stranger.  What if his father didn’t like physical contact any more than he did?  What if his father had only been holding him in his capacity as a healer?  Elladan and Estel had spoken much of their father’s healing skills--perhaps he had mistaken a healer’s touch for a father’s love.  What if he had completely misread the situation and had now upset the elven lord with his forward behavior?

As he considered what he should do or say now, two fingers under his chin gently lifted Elrohir’s head until he was once more looking at his father. 

“Elrohir?” asked Elrond questioningly.

The elven lord hadn’t realized that his concern over his son’s weakness has translated itself into a rather severe looking frown.  So he was mystified at what had caused his son to suddenly seem hesitant and was distressed to feel Elrohir tense up in his arms.

The awkwardness caused by the mutual misunderstanding might have continued, but Elrohir, in an attempt to make things right said apprehensively, “I…I’m sorry.”

Neither the tone nor the words were what Elrond was expecting.

“Sorry!  Sorry for what?” he asked in astonishment.

“For my…for the…,” Elrohir stammered as he struggled to find the right words.  What could he say?  ‘Sorry for throwing myself at you?’  ‘Sorry for presuming a relationship that may not exist?’  He gestured emptily with his arms as he tried to think of what to say.

Fortunately, the insight that allowed Elrond to skillfully lead his people for millennia also helped the elven lord understood what was bothering his boy.

“My dear, dear son,” he said as he tightened his arms around Elrohir once more.  With his voice muffled as he buried his head on his son’s shoulder, he continued, “Do not misunderstand my concern.  I only worry for your well-being--you have nothing to be sorry for.”  He pulled back so his son could see the truth in his eyes as he continued.  “In my long life, there have been few other moments that have given me as much joy as this time with you.  You have made me happier than you can know.  Please…do not apologize for anything.”

Elrohir smiled shyly at the elf, grateful that he hadn’t done anything to distress him.  He still couldn’t believe this incredible being was his father!

A soft knock halted any further conversation as they both looked over at the door.

It slowly cracked open and then a dark head peeked around its edge.  It was Elladan, coming to check if his twin had awakened.  He hadn’t expected to find his father sitting against the headboard with Elrohir lying contentedly in his arms—the scene caused him to stop abruptly in the doorway in surprise.

“Is he awake yet?” hissed a voice behind Elladan.

Elladan jerked his head around and answered his little brother distractedly, “Uh...yes.”

“Then go in,” said Aragorn louder as he prodded his older brother in the back.  Just what had gotten in to Elladan?

Aragorn figured that out a moment later when he pushed the door open all the way and saw the same scene that had stunned his brother.  ‘And just how had this happened?’ he wondered.  When they’d left the night before, Elrond had implied that he would stay away from Elrohir, but now it looked like they’d known each other forever.  Which, he noted confusedly, they had, but….

“Good morning,” said Elrond with amusement as he watched his two mystified sons came over to their brother’s bedside.

“Elladan, Estel,” exclaimed Elrohir, forgetting his fatigue in his excitement.  “This is my father!”

As soon as he said it, Elrohir realized what a ridiculous thing that was to say.  Elrond was, after all, their father as well!  He blushed furiously in embarrassment.  Oh, Valar, he felt stupid!

But his brothers, who in times past would have gleefully welcomed such a marvelous opportunity to tease him, instead made no mention of his painfully obvious statement as they made themselves comfortable on the edge of the bed.  In fact, they shared a contented look before Elladan reached over and gently squeezed his twin’s shoulder.

“We know,” he said with a kind smile.  “And I’m so glad you’ve met.” 

That simple statement covered a whole range of sentiments:  ‘I’m so glad our family is back together,’ ‘I’m so glad you accepted him,’ ‘I’m so glad you’re here.”

Aragorn also smiled warmly at Elrohir, although deep down inside, he acknowledged that tiny piece of him that felt a bit hurt.  Just why had Elrohir found it so easy to trust and accept Elladan and their father, but had fought him so bitterly?  He knew that the unique bond between the twins could have caused Elrohir to accept Elladan, but what about their father?  Was this just a sign that no matter how hard he tried, Aragorn could never really, truly be a full member of the family?  As he looked at the twins and his father, he decided to push aside those disturbing thoughts for now, dismissing them as petty and selfish in the face of the happiness the others were exuding.  He knew he’d have to unbury them some other time and decipher what this all really meant to him, but for now he’d focus on being happy that everyone was back together.

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The rest of the day was idyllic for the entire family as Elrohir rested in his room.  Elrond, Elladan, and Aragorn pulled up chairs around his bedside and had a marvelous time catching up on all the news in Rivendell as well as sharing tales of the brothers’ adventures.  Elrohir was mostly silent, but soaked in the laughter and love with an almost unbelieving delight.  Just months ago he’d seen his future as a bleak expanse of hardship and loneliness.  But now...now he was surrounded by a warm happy family who seemed overjoyed to be with him!  It was almost too much to accept.

Elrohir’s family was concerned about overwhelming the young elf or overtiring him, so took care that no one else would enter the room that first day.  Although there were many friends who were aching to see their young prince returned, Elrond was firm that he would wait until he was convinced that Elrohir was ready before allowing anyone in to see him.  This was made easier by the fact that a good many of the realm’s warriors were currently out on patrol, since there were many amongst that group, including the twins’ long-time friend and mentor Glorfindel, who would have been clamoring to see Elrohir right away.

By the end of the day, however, the challenge facing Elrond didn’t seem to be keeping others away from Elrohir, but rather keeping Elrohir in bed when the stubborn young elf determined that he should be allowed up.

When Elladan returned from the kitchens with a tray laden with their dinner, Elrohir decided that he was fit to sit up at the small table in his room rather than lay back in bed and allow the others to spoonfeed him. 

“I do not wish to lay down while I eat,” he was announcing rather firmly as his twin entered the room.  “I’m fine!” he continued, sitting up to prove it.

Elrond, however, had to reach out quickly to catch his willful young son when he nearly passed out from light-headedness.

“Just...sat up a bit too fast,” Elrohir said with shaky defiance and a glare for his brothers.

The two of them were exchanging a ‘look’ and struggling not to laugh at him as they enjoyed the sheer familiarity of the scene.  This was so typical of Elrohir that for a brief moment they could almost forget the last difficult months and the preceding years of sadness.  Of them all, Elrohir was normally the most congenial and easy-going, but when he chose to be willful, he was by far the hardest to budge and it was nice to know that some things hadn’t changed.

Elrond managed to silence his amused sons with a look of his own and turned to Elrohir, who was struggling to sit up again.  He held his son’s shoulders down carefully, uncertain as to how his son might react to being forcefully handled. 

“You will lay down and stay in bed until I decide you are fine,” he said a bit sternly.  Then he continued in a much gentler tone, “You have only just returned to us, young one, so you will have to be patient with us as we feel the need to spoil you a bit.”

The look Elrohir gave his father as he smiled softly and nodded was one of pure adoration, leaving his brothers bursting with curiosity.  How, in all of Arda, had their father won him over so quickly?  Just what had happened during the night?  Their curiosity was left unanswered, though, since Elrond briskly directed them to place a small table over by the bed so the family could gather near Elrohir while they ate.

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After dinner, Elrond could see that Elrohir was starting to look fatigued, so after some quietly whispered words to him, he left for the night, admonishing the others to leave as well after their own good-nights.  These were accomplished in short order and abruptly Elrohir found himself alone.  It was the strangest feeling.  Always before, he’d been restrained in some fashion, been in the company of his brothers, or was being chased by someone.  Now, for the first time he could remember, he was alone and no one was controlling his actions.  It was an astonishing feeling that gave him a sense of freedom that he couldn’t ever remember having before.

Excited and now wide awake, Elrohir contemplated what he should do.  He knew that his father and brothers would fuss if they found him out of bed, but he was too restless to stay there any longer and if truth be told, was intensely curious about this new life that he’d woken up in and knew that this room--his room--would be able to give him some clues about his lost past.

He sat up slowly, remembering the last time he’d sat up too fast and was relieved to find himself light-headed for only a moment.  As the feeling quickly passed, he swung his legs around until his feet touched the floor.

He was dressed only in thin sleeping garments, but the room was comfortably warm.  He wondered briefly who had changed his clothes, but was quickly distracted by the contents of the room.

So…this was his room.  And all the things in it were somehow a piece of his past.  He walked around slowly, actually feeling like an interloper peeking into someone else’s life.  Nothing seemed familiar as he took in every detail, not touching anything as he studied the items carefully.  Some half-made arrows on a corner table told of a long ago project started and never completed.  Did he know how to make arrows?  And moreover, did he know how to use them?  He supposed he would have or they wouldn’t be here, but couldn’t remember ever even holding a bow, so what had he used them for?  Was he a hunter of some sort?  Or some kind of warrior?  Or were the arrows used to fuel a simple hobby?  For the first time, he began to be fully conscious that he had lost more than just his family and way of life, but also a true sense of who he was.  What he was.

Putting aside the intriguing questions as well as a hint of melancholy created by those thoughts, he continued his trek around the room, noting with interest the many items that attested to a rich and full life:  a bookshelf nearly overflowing with many thick volumes, including a whole section on the medicinal uses of herbs; a bin of old child’s toys in a corner, obviously worn and well-loved; several delicate pieces of pottery, begging the question of why he would have chosen these particular pieces to grace his room; an entire shelf of odd trinkets, perhaps collected over a lifetime and each with its own story; and a sturdy wooden frame obviously designed to hold a sword although currently empty.  He glanced back over at the arrows and then back to the sword stand--was this another clue that he had been a soldier of some sort?

Knowing there would be only questions and no answers this night, Elrohir kept moving around the room, coming next to a large wardrobe which stood against the far wall.  It was closed tightly and Elrohir had no way of opening it without using his hands, so after a cursory glance, he walked past it to the final corner and there stopped, transfixed.  Resting on a glossy wooden shelf stood a beautifully made lap harp and next to it, a small silver flute.  These final items interested him more than any of the other items had.  Were they his?  Had he at some point been able to create music?  Nearly breathless at the thought, he lightly ran his fingertips over the harp strings, haunted by the sweet sound of the notes that flowed from the lovely instrument.  As the notes faded, he abruptly pulled away from the harp, for once grateful for the bandages covering his hands.  If not for them, he could have picked up the harp or the flute and learned whether or not he could play them.  For now, he didn’t want to find out and suddenly couldn’t bear to think of everything he had lost when his former life had been stripped from him.

Climbing dejectedly back into his bed he lay awake for many hours, unable to sleep as he tried to imagine the life that he had had before and the huge contrast it made to the only one he could remember.  Since his rescue by Estel, he hadn’t permitted himself to dwell at all on his time as a slave, but he knew that he couldn’t escape the reality that it was the only thing he knew how to be.  It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that simple exhaustion finally overcame his troubled thoughts and the tired, lost elf drifted into a fitful sleep.

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The first sensation that Elrohir had the next morning was one of complete disorientation as he woke up warm and comfortable in a room that would be considered beautiful by anyone’s standards.  He was still half asleep, so it took him a moment before everything snapped into place and he remembered where he was. 

Unlike the previous day when he’d woken up in his father’s arms, this time he was alone and was able to sit quietly for a few minutes while trying to get used to this new reality.  His gloom from the night before hadn’t completely faded, but it was easier to be more hopeful with the morning sun streaming through the windows and a light autumn breeze causing the leaves to dance just outside his room. 

Elrohir pondered his situation.  He was no longer Dan the silent elven slave, or even Elrohir the somewhat confused brother of Elladan and Estel--from this point on he would have to be Lord Elrohir of Imladris and son of the mighty Lord Elrond.  What would that mean?  The uncertainties that had plagued the last few days of his journey came back full force as he tried to imagine filling such a role.  What did he know about life in a royal elven household?  For that matter, what did he know about life in any kind of polite society, royal or not?  If someone needed to know the best times to harvest crops, or the proper way to load carts, or even how to avoid beatings from the overseer...well, maybe he wasn’t the expert on that last item...but on the other ones he could give some sort of opinion.  However, on being an elven lord…!

Minutes ticked by as he tried to imagine himself in such a role.  Failing that, he finally turned to the more practical question of what he should be doing right now.  He wasn’t sure if he should be staying in bed or if someone was waiting for him to get up.  Should he be getting dressed?  And if he should, what should he be wearing since he couldn’t see his old clothes anywhere.  He was full of questions this morning, but didn’t know where to look for answers.  Even if his pride would allow him to ask his brothers for help, he wouldn’t even know where to start looking for them.

Deciding finally that he’d rather be up and doing the wrong thing than lying in bed doing nothing, he slid to the floor and started looking for something to wear.  The obvious place to find something would, of course, be the large wardrobe that he’d noticed the night before.  Unfortunately, it was still shut tight, though, and he wasn’t sure how to open it, his bandaged hands preventing him from grasping the knob and turning it.  Stubbornly determined to find a way in, he tried using just his fingertips, but that didn’t work.  Next, he tried his chin and shoulder, and finally, his elbows.  He was becoming quite frustrated when he heard a chuckle from behind him.

The young elf whirled about in shock as he hadn’t heard anyone come in the room.  He had never allowed anyone to sneak up on him before, so he regarded his brother with a mix of alarm and irritation.  “What are you laughing at?” he demanded.

“Nothing...nothing,” protested Elladan, but spoiled it by grinning.  “Why don’t you let me do that?” he added.

Elrohir brushed the hair from his face with the back of his arm and said with annoyance, “I can manage.”

Elladan’s amusement faded as he regarded his twin.  This was just one more reminder that even though they had managed to get Elrohir safely home and there had been some signs of the old Elrohir, he was far from being the same as before.  This easily-provoked version of his twin was a far cry from the lighthearted elf of old.  Picking his words carefully so as not to further annoy his brother, Elladan said sincerely, “I wasn’t making fun...I only wish to help.”

Elrohir stepped away from the wardrobe and sighed, realizing that his reaction had been unnecessarily testy. “I cannot get this open,” he stated in frustration.  “I was hoping to look inside and find something to wear.”

“Then you are in luck, brother,” said Elladan with a smile. “For that is why I’m here.  Ada sent me to tell you that you could get out of bed this morning if you were feeling up to it, which apparently you are.  But until your bandages are removed and you can truly manage on your own, I am going to continue to help you as I did on our journey home.  For now, that means helping you find something to wear and get dressed before Estel and Ada join us for breakfast”

With that, the elder twin opened up the wardrobe, enjoying watching his brother’s reaction when he saw the many garments within.  For someone who had only had the rags on his back, this was an incredible cache of riches, and he almost gasped in astonishment.  The clothes within weren’t fussy or frilly, but the rich fabrics and the quality of their cut clearly marked them as ones you would expect to find on an elven lord.

“These…were mine?” he asked in wonder.

“These are yours,” corrected Elladan with a smile.  “Do you have a preference for today?”

Elrohir looked again at the many garments in wonder.  How were you supposed to choose?  Were there any rules on what you should wear and when?  Fearing that he’d get things wrong right away, he shook his head and said, “You choose, please.”

Nodding without comment, Elladan turned back to the closet and started rifling through its contents until he found what he was looking for.  “Here,” he said, pulling out a simple midnight blue tunic embellished by a thin braid of silver trim on each sleeve. “This was always a favorite of yours and is perfect for today.”

He laid the tunic on the bed and opened up the other side of the wardrobe, which had a series of drawers filled with even more unseen treasures.  He took out some dove gray leggings and soft, dark gray boots.  Without any fuss, he helped Elrohir into his clothes and then stood back, pleased with his efforts. 

“You look great, Ro,” said Elladan, trying not to feel emotional at the comforting normality of having the two of them preparing for the day.  He pulled the wardrobe door open the rest of the way and gestured to the mirror on the back of it.  “See what you think.”

Elrohir hadn’t realized that Elladan had been asking him to look in a mirror, so he had no warning before he came face-to-face with his reflection. 

When he saw it, he staggered back in shock.  The face that stared back at him was Elladan’s!  Bewildered, confused, he looked in the mirror at his brother, who had walked up behind him.  It looked like he was seeing a double image of Elladan.  “Dan, we look…we look the same,” he stammered breathlessly.

In dazed reaction the younger twin continued to study the reflection of his brother behind him.  It grinned back at him and said, “Aye.  I realize our clothes do seem rather similar despite the different color, but I thought you might want to wear an old favorite.  Do you not like it?” he added with just a touch of worry.  He didn’t know why Elrohir would seem bothered by the similar clothes, but didn’t want anything to taint their first days home together.

But wasn’t the matching outfits that was bothering Elrohir.  Still staring at his reflection in shock, which was amplified by seeing his brother behind him, he shook his head vigorously and said, “Nay.  I don’t mean the clothes.  I mean…us.  Our faces.  Our hair.  Everything.  It is the same!”

Elladan gave his brother a whimsical grin, “Of course we are alike.  Twins often are, you know.”

“Twins!” shouted Elrohir as he turned around to face his image.  “We are TWINS?!  Did it never occur to you that I might like to have known about that?  How could you not tell me we are twins!?”

If he had not been so upset, Elrohir might have found the open-mouthed look of utter shock on Elladan’s face humorous.  He wasn’t amused, though, and stood glaring at his brother--his twin!!

Elladan said nothing as he faced his brother.  Surely they had mentioned to him that the two of them were twins!  In the months they had been traveling, either he or Estel must have said something.  Didn’t they?  From the look on Elrohir’s face, apparently not.  He opened and closed his mouth several times still without saying anything.  What could he say?  It never occurred to him that Elrohir didn’t know they were twins.  That was so much a part of who they were, that it would have been like telling Elrohir that they were elves.  They just…were.  He knew he’d better come up with something, though, because his twin was looking more and more angry as the moments passed.

“Ro...I am so sorry.  I...thought you knew....I...” he stammered and then shook his head vigorously, pulling himself together.  Starting over more coherently, he said clearly but with feeling, “Elrohir, I am sorry I did not tell you.  I assure you it was not kept from you purposely.  It is just who we are, so it simply did not occur to me that you would have to be told.  Did you not wonder why we looked so much alike?”

Elrohir scowled as he answered, “Since I had never seen what I myself look like, I could hardly be aware that you looked the same.”

Closing his eyes for a moment as he winced, Elladan responded quietly, “Then I am doubly sorry, Ro.  I did not realize.”

Elrohir regarded his brother silently as he tried to decide just how to react.  Obviously, Elladan felt badly, so he really was unable to stay angry with him for more than those first few moments.  But to find out that he was a twin...and an identical one at that...let alone the shock of unexpectedly finding out what you looked like…was staggering!  His thoughts were reeling, but he truly didn’t want to have anything upset his first days at home, so after a deep breath and a swift mental lecture to himself not to overreact, he managed a wry smile and said, “So, we look alike.  Tell me...have we ever used that to try to fool anyone?”

The quick change in mood startled Elladan, but after a just a moment, he grinned back at his brother.  The following conversation was punctuated by great laughter as Elladan happily described some of their more ingenious pranks when they had taken advantage of their identical appearances.  This could have gone on for hours as both of the twins were enjoying sharing this lighthearted look into their past as master pranksters, but after a while it was time for breakfast and the stories were put aside as Elladan led his brother into the outer room.

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The morning meal had been set up in the common room adjoining the twin’s bedchambers, so Elrohir was able to venture out of his bedchamber, doubling his new world.  As he looked around, Elladan explained to him that it had been a play area when they had been small, but over the years it had evolved into a comfortable room where they could relax and entertain friends and family.  Elrohir noted several large chairs, bookshelves, a corner rack with various weapons, and off to the side, a medium-sized table that had a simple, yet delicious-looking meal placed in its center.

Aragorn walked into the room just after the twins, grinning his ‘good morning’ as he noted how wonderful it was to be with both his brothers again.  The three of them took chairs at the table and started some playful bickering as they waited for their father.

Just as they were deciding that maybe he had been caught up by something else, the elven lord opened the door and entered.  He paused for a moment after he closed the door behind him, still almost unbelieving that not only had Elladan and Estel returned home, but it was really Elrohir sitting there with them.  One look at Elladan could dispel any doubts, though.  His eldest was looking more content and alive than he had in years--Elrohir’s return had obviously done him a world of good.  His eyes rested momentarily on Aragorn, who by contrast seemed to have a shadow hanging over him.  Resolving to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering his youngest soon, he walked over to the table and greeted his sons.

“Good morning,” he said serenely.  All his children were safe and accounted for—it was a good morning.

Elrohir looked over to his brothers for his cue on how to respond.  Were they supposed to rise when their father approached?  Keeping one’s seat in the presence of Lord Hebert had always been a sure invitation for harsh punishment.  And while Elrohir wasn’t expecting to get beaten for keeping his seat improperly, he still didn’t want to appear disrespectful.  But when he saw the others remain seated and his father take the last chair, Elrohir allowed himself to relax as he gave his father with his own greeting.

As the family began their first meal together in years, Elrohir was delighted to note that all the foods were prepared so that he could pick them up with his fingertips, meaning that he would not need assistance to eat, allowing him to feel less awkward in an already unfamiliar situation.

Elrond kept the conversation light as he outlined the plans for the rest of the day.  He would be obliged to catch up on some work that had been hastily put aside with Elrohir’s return, but Elladan and Aragorn would be free to stay with Elrohir, showing him around Rivendell.  That spurred on an excited conversation as the brothers began listing places that they wanted to show Elrohir.

Near the end of the meal, however, Elrond noted that his middle son didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the conversation any more.

“Elrohir, are you alright?  Did you sleep well?” he asked in concern.

“I am fine,” the young elf answered politely, if not completely accurately.  While he was in fact feeling more worn out by the minute, he didn’t wish to appear weak or spoil his brothers’ enthusiastic plans for showing him around.

He couldn’t fool his father, of course.  Raising an eyebrow in question, Elrond studied his son.  “You are looking fatigued, Elrohir,” he said a bit firmly.  “Are you certain you rested well?  And I wish for an honest answer.”

Elrohir felt a sharp pang of concern.  He didn’t want his father to think he was lying.

“I…I do not mean to deceive you,” he stammered.  “I did sleep well…once I fell asleep.  But I admit that it took me awhile, as I had much to think about.”

He looked wide-eyed at his father, wondering if he’d said the right thing.  With a sigh, Elrond reached over and stroked his cheek, sad to think that his son appeared so unsure of himself.

“Relax, Elrohir,” he said gently.  “I am not upset.  I am merely trying to understand why you look so tired.  It is my job as a healer, you understand, as well as my job as a father,” he finished with a smile.

Feeling awkward and hesitant but still pleased that he hadn’t angered his father, Elrohir gave him a quick smile of his own.

Elrond surprised all his sons, however, with his next words.  “Now, I realize it is only mid-morning, but Elrohir, considering your fatigue I would like you to go back to bed and catch up on your missed sleep.  You are looking far too pale and it would be well for you to rest for at least the remainder of the morning.  I will reconsider the outing with your brothers after lunch.”

Inside, Elrohir welcomed not only the opportunity to rest, but also the chance to avoid exploring his new home.  While he knew he’d have to meet others and learn his way around eventually, for now he felt that he had enough things to get used to and didn’t feel up to any taxing adventures just yet.  He allowed none of those thoughts to show, however, as his brothers were visibly disappointed. 

“Ada,” protested Aragorn, “surely he can come out for awhile.”

“Aye,” added Elladan, “can we please show him at least the gardens?”

“You sound like children asking for a playmate to join them,” Elrond said with a fond smile.  “But my answer is no.  I wish for Elrohir to prepare for bed now.”

The elven lord was intrigued as Elrohir politely excused himself from the table and went to his chamber, followed by Elladan, whose self-appointed task it was to help him get ready for bed.  Elrond watched the twins leave as he considered Elrohir’s behavior with interest.  While his son showed many signs of being unfamiliar with their way of life, there was no way the young elf would have learned the impeccable table manners he had just displayed while living the life of a slave.  He clearly still had many memories hidden within him that he would unconsciously bring out from time to time, and this gave Elrond confidence that the rest of his memories would somehow be reachable as well.

With that comforting thought, he turned to his last son still sitting at the table and studied him before he saying quietly, “Estel, while Elladan is assisting Elrohir, we have a few minutes alone.  Is there something bothering you that I can help with?”

The young man was caught off-guard by his father’s question, unaware up until now that his distress was at all visible.  But then he ruefully remembered that it was just about impossible to keep anything from the keen eyes of the elven lord.  Of course, now he had to decide what to tell his father.

“Ada, I…” he stopped, not sure how to say what was on his mind without sounding childish.

“Estel?” prompted his father.

The young man looked into the face of the elf before him.  The wise, loving eyes reminded him that he should just say what was on his mind—his father would understand.

 “It’s Elrohir,” he finally blurted.  “I am overjoyed, of course, that he has been found and I know he’s had a difficult time and I don’t mean to sound like I’m unhappy he’s here and I understand that we’ve just barely returned, and…”

“Little one,” interrupted Elrond, “You are babbling.”

Aragorn abruptly stopped talking and looked at his father.  Swiftly going over what he’d just said, he realized that he had, in fact, been babbling.  With a short laugh, he acknowledged his father’s words. 

Then serious again, he started over, “I am sorry Ada, let me try again.  What I wanted to say was that I’m so glad Elrohir is home.  You know I love him and would have given my very life to bring him back.  It’s just…I feel so unsure around him now.  It started on the trail, but I thought it would all change when we got home.  However now it’s even worse.  After seeing his response to you, I realized that it wasn’t just his bond with Elladan that made Elrohir accept him so quickly—he did the same with you.  That tells me that his distrust of me was something to do with how he saw me, personally, not the way he sees everyone.  I…don’t think he likes me,” he finished sadly.

The elven lord regarded the sad young man with love.  Aragorn had grown into such a mature, confident, capable young man that sometimes the elven lord forgot just how young he still was.  It was times like this, when the wisdom that would only come with age was so visibly missing that Elrond remembered that this remarkable son of his had just barely left his childhood behind.

“Give it time, son,” he advised.  “You will come to see that your brother cares deeply for you.”

“But he wouldn’t even let me near him for the longest time.  It was only after we met up with Elladan that things began to improve,” Aragorn explained dejectedly.

“From what I understand, your brother was living a very harsh existence when you found him.  It is likely that he would have reacted badly and not trusting anyone at that point, myself and Elladan included.  Perhaps it was the time with you, away from misery and unhappiness that allowed him to be able to accept your brother when he arrived,” Elrond explained. 

“Nay, Ada,” answered Aragorn with unhappiness.  “I wish that were true, but it doesn’t explain why acts differently with me now.”

“My son, do you treat him the same as you had in the past?” asked his father gently.

The question caused the young man to pause and think.  Truthfully, he had been keeping his distance, at least emotionally, from Elrohir for quite some time.  He hadn’t really thought about it, but could his own behavior be keeping his brother from him?

Slowly, he shook his head in answer to his father’s question, “You are right, Ada.  I have not.”

“Then my advice, Estel, it to simply treat your brother as you always have, and he will come around in time,” Elrond guided with a smile.

Aragorn opened his mouth to answer, but Elladan, at that moment, opened the door and came out of Elrohir’s room, effectively ending the conversation.  His father’s words had given him some hope, but Aragorn wasn’t ready to share his fears with everyone just yet, so with a wave to his brother and a “Thank you, Ada, I will think on what you have said,” for his father, he left, looking to find something to do to fill his time until Elrohir awoke and they could show him around their home. 

Elladan, too, took his leave from his father, choosing to spend his free hours down in the barracks, hoping to find several of his friends around who were not currently out on patrol.  It had been a long time since he’d last been home and was anxious to catch up on everyone’s news.

That left Elrond alone in the twins’ rooms, and after a brief hesitation, he cracked open the door to Elrohir’s room and glanced inside.

Elrohir was sitting up in bed, very much awake.

Elrond pushed the door open all the way and entered, gently chiding his son, “I wish for you to sleep, Elrohir, which you cannot do while you are sitting up.

Elrohir laid back down in bed after nodding quietly at his father’s words.  As he did, however, Elrond caught just a hint of an expression that he hadn’t seen on his son’s face since he had been quite small.  It was a touch of uncertainty that had long since been banished from the capable, strong young warrior that Elrohir had become.  For now, though, Elrond recognized that his boy needed a bit of reassurance and was only too happy to provide it. 

Gently brushing the hair away from his son’s face and then kissing his cheek, he murmured, “Rest, my son.  All will be well.  You sleep now, and I will sit with you for awhile.”

Full, warm, and deeply comforted by the presence of his father, Elrohir finally relaxed and without further word, fell deeply asleep almost immediately.

Even though he had many things that required his attention, Elrond couldn’t bring himself to leave his son’s side right away, content for awhile to sit and watch his child sleeping peacefully.

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

Elrohir woke up again, this time rested, several hours later and after a hearty lunch with his brothers, was talking quietly with them when their father poked his head in after a soft knock.  “Are you ready for a visitor?” he asked to their surprise.

Aragorn, who had his back to the door and had been facing the twins, was troubled to see Elrohir visibly tense up at their father’s words.   He was obviously unsure about the prospect of meeting someone else just yet, but before he could somehow convey that to their father, Elrond had pushed the door open and had walked in, followed by Glorfindel.

The brothers rose to their feet, Elladan and Aragorn moving forward to give their old friend and mentor a warm hug.  Although Glorfindel wasn’t an actual relation, he was as dear to them as family and they had all saw him as sort of an honorary uncle as well as a good friend of their own.

Elrohir had also risen to his feet and waited politely to meet the elf that their father had escorted in.  While he was greeting his brothers, Elrohir took the opportunity to study the new elf.  He was tall, blond, and had such a commanding presence that Elrohir might have been alarmed if not for the comforting presence of his father and brothers.

“Elrohir, this is Lord Glorfindel,” said his father warmly.  “He is a dear family friend and was quite anxious to see you.  Please come say hello.”

The young elf regarded the blond elf and then nodded politely in greeting, while Glorfindel, for his part, was grinning from ear to ear.

“Ro!  I came as soon as I’d heard you were back,” said Glorfindel cheerily.  “I can’t believe you’re really here!”

With that, he reached out pull the young elf into an embrace as he had done with the others, but with lightning-quick speed, Elrohir grabbed his wrists and held them in a vice-like grip.

A hush fell over the room as everyone froze, startled by the completely unexpected reaction.  Even Elrohir wasn’t moving—the old dread of contact had surprised him as much as any of the others.  Elrohir knew that in the past he had had a violent hatred for any type of physical contact, but had thought that he was over reacting involuntarily after he’d gotten used to the physical affection of his family.  Thus, he had been as surprised as the others at his response.

Glorfindel said nothing and made no move, watching to see what Elrohir would do next.  He had initially been caught off guard, but quickly realized that his move toward the elf had been a foolish mistake and didn’t wish to compound it by reacting badly now.  He now saw that whatever Elrohir had endured had obviously marked the young elf in hidden ways and he didn’t want to alarm him further. 

After several long moments of awkward silence when no one moved, Elrohir slowly forced his fingers open and dropped Glorfindel’s wrists.  It was only at that point that he started to feel pain and belatedly remembered that he still shouldn’t be using his lightly bandaged hands.

Ignoring the fiery stinging in his palms for the moment, he said woodenly, “I apologize, Lord Glorfindel.  I...do not care for physical contact.”

Glorfindel glanced quickly over at Elrond to see if his friend wished to intervene, but a quick negative shake of his head indicated that he was going to let Glorfindel handle this.  Thus, with a fond smile, the older elf shrugged and said, “Do not be concerned, Elrohir.  I apologize myself for startling you.  In my joy at seeing you again, I overlooked that you would have forgotten that I can be a bit…effusive at times…at least, I am when I’m with my favorite young ones.  I really am glad to see you home again, Ro, and hope that in time you will come to realize what you and your family mean to me.”

Elrohir nodded tightly and tried to smile at the elf, touched by his words, but for now just wishing that Glorfindel would go away so that he could come to terms with what had just happened.

Either he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his thoughts, or Glorfindel knew him better than he knew himself, for the imposing elf stayed only a few more minutes before he took his leave, closely followed by Elrond.

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

After the two older elves left, reaction at last set in and Elrohir sank shakily onto one of the chairs, hugging his hands to his chest.

“Let me see that,” said Elladan reaching for one of his hands.

Embarrassed at causing such a scene, Elrohir shook his head and said, “I am fine.”

Aragorn couldn’t help rolling his eyes.  And just how many times had they heard that from Elrohir in the past?

“Ro...” the elder twin said warningly.

Elrohir fell back into the chair and closed his eyes.  “Valar!  I cannot believe I did that!” he said with a groan.

Elladan sat on the arm of the chair and cautiously put a hand on his shoulder, watching to see if his brother would pull away.  Pleased to see that he didn’t, Elladan said, “Well, that was a bit surprising for us as well, but for now, please let us see those hands.”

Despite his own desire to make sure that Elrohir hadn’t damaged his hands, Aragorn laughed as Elrohir said again, “I’m fine!” and didn’t budge.  He was always amused when the twins got into one of their contest of wills.

Elladan, of course, wasn’t amused, and was debating how to get his obstinate brother to show him his hands when their father reentered the room. 

Moving directly in front of the dejected-looking elf, he said firmly, “Elrohir, let me see your hands.”

“I am....” a look from his father cut off the rest of his sentence.  Since he was still cradling his hands against his chest, it was rather foolish to keep trying to convince the others that he was ‘fine.’

With a small sigh, Elrohir held out his hands, causing Elladan to shake his head in irritation at his stubborn twin.  Why wouldn’t Elrohir just cooperate in the first place?

Elrond quickly unwrapped both hands, holding them delicately as he checked them for damage. 

“I imagine they will sting a bit,” he finally said.  “But you have not caused them any lasting harm.”

As he began to wrap them up again, the elven lord added casually, “Elrohir, no one will hurt you here.  You must learn not to react to a simple touch.”

Acutely aware of that obvious fact, Elrohir only nodded, not meeting anyone’s eyes.  He was quite embarrassed at what had happened, and hoped he wouldn’t be overreacting to anything else.

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

After the incident with Glorfindel, Elrond was beginning to reconsider allowing Elladan and Aragorn to show Elrohir around.  If nothing else, he thought perhaps he should join them, for while Glorfindel had been understanding, others might not be and Elrond didn’t want any negative experiences to upset Elrohir’s reintroduction to their home.  Still, he couldn’t keep his son trapped in his room forever and he didn’t want Elrohir to think he was making too big a fuss over what had happened, so with some quiet words to Elladan to watch carefully over his twin, the boys finally were allowed to leave and begin their tour. 

Elladan and Aragorn’s first destination was a nearby balcony that overlooked the whole of Rivendell.  They made it there without encountering anyone as it was located in the family’s private quarters, and soon the three were standing at the railing, looking into their lush, green valley.

Elrohir was stunned by the peaceful beauty he saw before him.  It looked so calm and lovely, that he wondered how he could have ever left it in the first place.  He was momentarily tempted to ask his brothers what they knew about his last days here, but then decided against it.  He wasn’t ready to face whatever had caused his disappearance, so he left his questions unasked as he listened to his brothers describe the various landmarks before them.

After they left the balcony, they next headed to the kitchens.  Although it seemed like an odd place to put near the top of their list, it had long been a favorite spot for all of Lord Elrond’s children and if there was any place where they would be sure to find warmth and kindness, it would be there.

To get there, however, they had to leave the private quarters and walk through the public areas of their home.  If anything, Elrohir’s brothers were more nervous than he was as they walked out into the corridors, unsure how he would react to the other elves that they would most certainly come across. 

Elrohir himself walked confidently, determined that no one would ever know how difficult he found this.  It shouldn’t be hard, he told himself sternly.  He had interacted with the people on Lord Hebert’s farm all the time.  Of course, the major difference was that he actually cared what the people here would think of him.  No allowing himself to even sigh at that thought, he kept his face impassive as he saw a couple of elves walking down the hall toward them.

“Greetings,” they said together, bowing first.  Then the older male on the left said with a smile, “My lords, it is wonderful to see you!  And Lord Elrohir, all of Imladris is rejoicing at your homecoming.”

Elrohir’s brothers watched him surreptitiously as they waited for his response.  They almost betrayed their shock when he performed a short, perfectly executed bow and answered politely, “I thank you for your kind words.  It is, indeed, good to be home.”

The elves exchanged a few more pleasantries and then went on their way, leaving Elladan and Aragorn to openly stare at Elrohir.  Unlike Elrond, they hadn’t really noticed before that Elrohir from time to time would pull out several of his old behaviors, and thus hadn’t expected him to be able to so smoothly interact with others.

Elrohir felt a bit of triumph as he noted his brothers’ surprise.  He was surprised himself that he had been able to so easily come up with the right words.  Perhaps in the distant recesses of his mind, Elrohir retained some memory of his former life, for the slave persona seemed to fade to the background as he walked the halls of his home.  This gave him his first bit of hope that somehow, somewhere, he’d find his memories again and he eagerly awaited his next encounter.

That came in the kitchens, where the brothers were faced with Lomelia, one of their very favorite elves of all times.  She had been in charge of the large kitchens since long before any of them had been born and they had found her to be a great ally while they had been growing up.  She had shown her fondness for Elrond’s children in a hundred different ways--late night snacks set aside for hungry little ones, favorite meals when they were feeling sad, special treats some times for no reason at all, and later in life, even helpful advice when they needed a woman’s opinion on something.  Yes, she had been a treasured part of their lives, and so it was to her that Elladan and Aragorn brought their brother right away.

They hadn’t counted, however, on her reaction when she saw ‘her boys’ enter the kitchen.  She dropped the bread dough she’d been kneading and rushed over, beaming through a sheen of tears.  After a quick, but heartfelt hug that encompassed both Elladan and Aragorn at the same time, she turned to Elrohir, who had been standing off to the side, rather bemused.

“Oh, my poor, poor lamb!” she cried.  “Let me look at you.  Oh!  You’re so thin!  Don’t you worry, though…a few weeks of proper fattening up and you’ll be as good as new.”  With that, she threw her arms around him and gave him a giant bear hug.

Aragorn stepped forward as if to warn her…or Elrohir…he wasn’t sure which, but then quietly stepped back when he saw the amused eyes of his middle brother looking at him over Lomelia’s shoulder.  Immensely relieved, he grinned back, thankful that Elrohir wasn’t going to react badly to this lovely woman that they all adored.

Lomelia released Elrohir, opened up her big pantry doors, and then briskly began removing several items.  She then placed them on a large tray and carried them over to the counter and gestured for the boys to join her for a mid-afternoon snack.  The four of them stayed there for over an hour, chatting about everything and nothing as they enjoyed the shared company.  While Elrohir was characteristically quiet, the others made up for it by being exceptionally loud and boisterous, ensuring the small reunion was a merry one.  At last, however, Lomelia reluctantly had to go back to work in order to start preparations for the evening’s meal.  With a promise to return soon, the brothers left, satisfied that they had found at least one more place that Elrohir would feel at home.

The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering the halls of their home while Elladan and Aragorn told tales of past events.  They came across many other elves during these wanderings, all of whom expressed their great pleasure at Elrohir’s return.  He, in turn, was able to respond to each of them pleasantly, causing his twin to reflect on how proud he was of the way Elrohir was holding up.  He had even managed to resist any kind of reaction when one of the well-wishers had patted his shoulder in greeting.  Although he hadn’t accepted the touch as gracefully as he had with Lomelia, he didn’t do anything startling, and by the end of the day, all three brothers were pleased with how the day had unfolded.

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

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity as Elrohir’s reintroduction to Rivendell continued.  First there was the bewildering parade of friends who came by to see the young elven lord—so many that he could only remember a fraction of their names.  Then there the many tours led by his brothers, both inside and outside their home—there were so many rooms and passages that Elrohir still had a hard time just finding his way to the dining room!  And then there were the piles of books and parchments that Elrohir poured over every chance he could get, trying to understand this foreign world that he had woken up in.

That last piece was even more frustrating than the rest, for Elrohir would often find himself without any frame of reference for what he was reading.  Too often a description of something was laden with words and ideas that he just didn’t understand.  It was impossible to understand an explanation of something, if you couldn’t relate the context to anything else.  He found that to be true time and again, and was starting to feel discouraged as he came to believe that he would never fit in to what should be his home.

Still, despite his own misgivings, Elrohir was a quick learner.  Constant study combined with carefully mimicking his family’s actions soon gave him a full range of proper behaviors and after a short time, his father deemed that he was ready to perform his first official function as a lord of Rivendell.  A patrol from the elven realm of Mirkwood was transiting their lands and it was customary for Elrond and his family to welcome visitors to their home.

The young elf’s hands were still bandaged, but since he’d otherwise recovered physically from his ordeal, Elrond had decided that he should participate in the formal greeting of the party of warriors as a first step toward relearning some of his old duties.

Elladan, as usual, helped his brother dress as they prepared for their guests.  The occasion was not intended to be terribly formal, so the garments he selected for both of them were simple, yet elegant.  Elrohir gratefully allowed his brother to pick them, acknowledging to himself that he still found the simple act of picking the right clothes to wear bewildering.  When they were done, they were nearly a matched pair, with the garments’ trim and Elrohir’s bandages the only difference between the two of them.

Together they made their way to the great hall where they were to meet up with their father and Estel.  As they came to the side door leading in to the hall, Elrohir hesitated, wary eyes seeking reassurance from his twin before they opened the door and entered. 

“There is no need for concern,” said Elladan kindly.  “Our role is merely to welcome our visitors, exchange pleasantries over wine, and then it will be over.  Nothing will go wrong in such a simple meeting.”

As Elladan made some last minute adjustments to his brother’s tunic, he added, “You know, it is too bad Legolas will not be with them.  He is always such fun to be around.”

“Legolas?” queried Elrohir.

“King Thranduil’s son,” answered Elladan.  “We are nearly the same age and have been quite close friends since we were very small.  He also spent many months with us when we began our search for you.  I know he will be overjoyed to hear of your return when these warriors bring word back to their home.  We should send him an invitation to come visit soon.”

Elrohir nodded briefly, his mind not really on King Thranduil’s son as he considered the upcoming meeting with the Mirkwood patrol.  He had rehearsed in his mind what he would say, but he was afraid something unexpected would happen and he wouldn’t know how to react.  Or what if he responded without thinking as he had with Glorfindel.  Although he had managed to interact just fine with many others since that time, he still cringed when he thought of how he’d overreacted when he’d met the elven lord.  Oh, how he didn’t want to do anything to embarrass his family this evening!

Elladan saw that his brother was still nervous, but knew that there was no remedy for it other than to get the ordeal over with.  So, he opened the door and gestured for Elrohir to proceed him and then moved to follow.

Elrohir stopped dead in the doorway, though, almost causing his brother to walk into him.  There were so many people in the room!  He couldn’t go in there!  Just short of panic, he started to turn to flee when he heard a soft murmur in his ear, “Deep breaths, Ro.  You can do this.”

Forcing himself to follow his brother’s advice, Elrohir took a couple of deep breaths and then quickly walked into the crowded hall, determined not to let his family down.  Ignoring the whispered comments he heard around him, he crossed over to where he saw Estel and his father waiting.

“You’ve caused quite a stir, Elrohir,” said his human brother with a grin.  “I don’t believe many knew you would be here today.”

Elrond nodded his agreement and gave his son an encouraging smile.  Those who didn’t know Elrohir well might not be able to see his tension in the way he carried himself, but his family could tell that he was quite uncomfortable with all the stares being directed his way.  Although he felt bad for his son’s discomfort, he couldn’t really blame his people--for many of Rivendell’s inhabitants who did not live or work in the palace, this was their first glimpse of their missing prince and his appearance was bound to cause a stir. 

Despite his tension at being in a large crowd, however, Elrohir had been a good pupil and managed to appear welcoming to the Mirkwood elves who were introduced to him during the course of the evening.  If the elves hadn’t known him already, they wouldn’t have even been able to tell that there was anything wrong with the young lord.  Those that did know him, though, could only feel sad that the cheerful young son of Elrond had been replaced with this proper, but far too serious elf.  Still, although he never quite allowed the warmth he was expressing to reach his eyes, he managed to perform all his duties perfectly and his family was quite proud of him by the end of the event. 

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

It was slightly over a month before Elrohir would face his next major challenge.  It was a month that had seen several important changes.  During that time, the last of the bandages had finally been removed from his hands, allowing Elrohir a new level of independence that he cherished.  No longer was he obliged to wait for his brothers to help him dress in the morning, or prepare his food, or assist with all the small daily tasks that one takes for granted unless they have lost the use of their hands.  Yes, that was one important change that allowed Elrohir to become less dependent on his family.  A second change, not as visible yet just as important, was Elrohir’s mastery of how an elven lord should behave.  After careful study of his family’s interactions with others as well as hours upon hours of reading in the library, Elrohir now felt confident that he would be able to respond properly in almost any situation or at the very least, not do anything that would embarrass his family.

These two changes should have been greeted by his family as happy milestones in his recovery.  A third, equally important change, however, dampened their enthusiasm for the first two.  With Elrohir’s new sense of independence, he inexplicably began to withdraw from the others.  At first, his family didn’t really notice, as they were busy teaching him about their home and way of life, but after awhile, they came to realize that while he was learning everything they were teaching him, he was also slowly closing off a part of himself.  It seemed the more he learned, the more solomn he became and the sparkle of life that had always been a part of Elrohir was just fading away. 

Elrond, Elladan, and Aragorn had met several times together to discuss Elrohir’s disturbing behavior, but they finally came to the conclusion that it was simply his way of dealing with a strange new world and they would let him pull back a bit if it allowed him to feel more in control.  This bothered his twin more than anyone else, but Elladan finally agreed that he’d give his brother some space if that’s what it took for Elrohir to feel comfortable in his new life. 

It had worked somewhat and Elrohir seemed to relax a bit when he wasn’t pressured so much to learn and participate in all the realm’s events.  He had, however, never voiced his own opinion on which events he wanted to attend, always accepting his family’s guidance.  Thus, this new, serious Elrohir took his family quite by surprise when he announced at dinner one evening that he did not wish to meet with the trade delegation that was scheduled to arrive the next day.  Quiet and somber, Elrohir had willingly, if not enthusiastically, done everything asked of him up until then.

Pausing as he ate his meal, Elrond addressed his son with a serious air, “Elrohir, we meet with the Oakwood traders every year for talks followed by an evening of enjoyment.  Not only are these men excellent trading partners, but they are also very good friends of our people.  And they have, in fact, been especially good friends of you and your brothers over the years.  You have stayed with them many times during your travels.  It would thus be rude of you not to attend our social gathering after the trade talks.  You needn’t attend the negotiations, but at the very least, I request your presence there,” declared Elrond firmly.

“I do not remember these people,” stated Elrohir, his feelings hidden by the emotionless mask he now always wore.  “And I tire of meeting new people—I am only asking to be excused this once.”

The elven lord scowled slightly as he glanced over at Aragorn and then at Elrohir, “Are you saying this because they are humans?” hoping that Estel wouldn’t take it wrong if that was the case.

Never once letting his mask slip, Elrohir answered his father, “I am saying this because I grow weary of meeting people who know me, but I do not remember.  I wish for a break.”

Elrond considered a moment before answering, “I understand, Elrohir, and after tomorrow’s events, I promise that you can have some more time alone if that is what you need.  However, I do insist that you make your appearance at the social gathering tomorrow.”

Elrohir nodded curtly, accepting his father’s decision, but obviously not happily and then the subject was dropped from further conversation.

Later, his brothers wished that either their father had given in to begin with or Elrohir had been more persistent, for the event was, in a word, a disaster!

The men from Oakwood were a rowdy, fun-loving bunch whose presence every year was anticipated with great excitement.  The evening of fun was enjoyed by all and had solidified the great friendship between the elves of Rivendell and the men from nearby Oakwood.  But this year, Elrohir managed to ruin the social gathering completely for his brothers.

He had attended, just as his father directed.  He had dressed properly.  He had arrived on time.  What he had not done, however, was display the proper manners that he’d been perfecting since his return home.  In fact, his behavior bordered on outright rudeness, for he refused to say one single word the entire evening.

Elrohir said nothing, nothing at all the entire night.  His old friends were cheerful enough with him and greeted him with great enthusiasm, but a stony nod was the most acknowledgement he would give, leaving his brothers to cover for his silence during the awkward pauses that they caused. 

Several times throughout the evening, whenever they found themselves alone, Elladan and Aragorn took turns trying to find out just what was going on in that thick skull of their brother’s--but even with them, he would say nothing.  Silence was his shield as he dutifully followed his brothers around, but refused to interact at all with their guests.

Many hours later--eternal hours in the opinion of Elrohir’s brothers--the gathering was over and the last of the guests had left for their quarters.  Elladan and Aragorn were worn to a frazzle and Elrohir--well, who knew what Elrohir was thinking, for his emotionless mask hadn’t slipped even a fraction the entire evening. 

By unspoken agreement, Aragorn took his leave from his brothers, knowing that Elladan was burning to find out just what was going on with his twin.

Elladan grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him through a side door out onto the patio.  “Now can you tell me what is wrong with you?” he asked angrily.  There were times when he just wanted to shake Elrohir!  Why had he found it necessary to ruin what should have been a lovely evening with good friends?

Elrohir in pure, maddening form, still said nothing, merely glaring back at Elladan.

The older twin wished for a moment that he could shake Elrohir, he was so frustrated.  “Answer me!” he ordered.

The younger twin stared back at his brother for the longest time and then finally spoke, his voice cold and hard, “I cannot believe you have to ask.”  And with that unsatisfying response, before Elladan could even think of what to say next, Elrohir yanked his arm out of Elladan’s grasp, turned, and disappeared into the night, leaving his thunderstruck twin alone with his worries.  

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