Chapter 10, Where Do I Belong?

It was only moments after Elrohir disappeared into the night that his twin raced after him.  As he reached the first grove of trees, however, Elladan stopped.  He was worried about whatever had caused Elrohir to act so strangely, but in truth he was rather upset himself at the moment.  Elrohir had absolutely ruined a fun evening that he’d been looking forward to and right now he didn’t really feel like facing his twin.

Elladan leaned against a tree and buried his face in his hands.  He was so tired.  Tired of being worried.  Tired of dealing with uncertainty.  Tired of pretending everything was all right.  Tired...of things simply not being normal.  By now, it had been over three years since that dreadful day when he’d known that something had happened to his brother...and nothing had been normal since.

As he stood there in the dark, Elladan tried to get his feelings under control before he continued after Elrohir.  He knew that he wasn’t only upset, but also angry with his twin and nothing good could come from finding Elrohir while he was in this mood.  He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself but accepting for the moment that it was a lost cause.  It just wasn’t fair!  He’d been trying so hard for so long to be patient with Elrohir.  Why did he have to continue to make life so difficult?

Several more long minutes passed before Elladan finally pushed away from the tree he was leaning against.  The peace of the lovely glade had at last worked a bit of its magic and he was able to get most of his anger under control.  He still felt a twinge of irritation with his brother, but he decided that he didn’t want to leave Elrohir alone too long to deal with...well, whatever he was dealing with.

Once he started looking for him, it didn’t take long for Elladan to find his missing twin.  Unlike past times when Elrohir knew every nook and cranny in Rivendell and thus could disappear at will into innumerable hiding places, Elrohir now was familiar with only a few spots and Elladan was able to easily find him sitting quietly in a small grotto he had been shown only the week before.

Elladan watched his brother for a moment before approaching him.  Elrohir was seated on a large stone, staring straight ahead, tension clear in every line of his body.  Bracing himself for what was to come, Elladan dropped down onto the stone next to Elrohir.

When his brother didn’t acknowledge his presence with even a look, Elladan sighed.  So Elrohir was going to be obstinate.  He finally broke the uncomfortable silence by saying as calmly as he could manage, “I would like to know what happened tonight.”

Elrohir’s jaw tightened at his brother’s words, but still did not look at Elladan or speak.  He could hear the irritation that Elladan couldn’t completely hide, and didn’t want to get into some kind of argument with his twin.  He was facing enough demons this night and was certainly not in the mood to add to his troubles.

Elladan only saw his brother’s continued stubbornness, however, and hissed, “You try my patience, brother!  For weeks I see you becoming more and more withdrawn and then tonight you are insufferably rude to our good friends.  Now tell me what happened!  What is wrong?”

The elder twin was not at all expecting his brother’s answer.  Elrohir whipped around and spat, “What is wrong?!  How could you even ask?  I am forced to spend hours in the company of men and you ask ‘what is wrong’?  A room full of those misbegotten creatures and you do not know ‘what is wrong?!  I detest them all!  That is my answer!”

Elladan regarded his brother in shocked disbelief.  At no time since they’d found Elrohir had his twin expressed even the slightest bit of anger over what had happened to him.  To see him now and hear the bitter hatred in his voice, however, it was crystal clear that Elrohir had been hiding a mountain of resentment for those that had enslaved him.  But Elrohir had been right.  Elladan knew that he should have understood or at least anticipated this reaction from his twin, but he hadn’t and now struggled with what to say next.  No longer feeling any anger himself, he had been thrown completely out of his depth at this unexpected development.  Grasping for something to say, after a few moments he could only come up with, “But Ro, Estel is human!”

With an angry gesture, Elrohir dismissed his observation.  “I do not mean him, of course.  He is special, as you well know.  It was the others…” He shivered as if trying to shake off the feel of being surrounded by men.  “…there were so many of them today.  Their presence made my skin crawl!”

Elladan wished for his father’s wisdom.  What could he do to help his twin?  Should he respond with concern and sympathy?  Or would matter-of-fact logic work better?  He didn’t know, but had to try something.

“Ro, I realize that your memory of men is full of unhappiness and I am so sorry for that, but we have had innumerable good dealings with them in the past…and we count many of them as close friends.  You cannot condemn the entire race based on the actions of just a few,” he said, trying for both sympathy and logic.

Elrohir shouted back, “Easy for you to say, but you were not there!”  He stared unseeing at the stones in front of him before he continued in a whisper, “You don’t know what it was like.”

Elladan sat very still and held his breath, not saying a word as he hoped his brother would continue.  The family had agreed early on that they would not push Elrohir to tell them about his experiences, but he so wanted to know what his brother had endured.  Not out of morbid curiosity, but so he could better understand how to help him overcome the many obstacles that kept popping up unexpectedly as he tried to regain his old life. 

Long minutes of silence passed before Elrohir, seemingly lost in time, continued, “They were brutal beings.  Vicious creatures who enjoyed torment for its own sake.  Many times they would take pleasure in causing pain for no reason.”

In an almost bewildered voice, he went on, “I would do nothing wrong, but they would still find a reason to beat me or show their cruelty in some other way...why?” he asked plaintively.  “Why would they do that?”

It took all Elladan’s willpower not to say anything.  He was torn between feelings of intense sadness for his brother’s anguish as well as an overwhelming rage towards those who had hurt him.  He found himself unable to even look at Elrohir as the remembered pain flashed over the younger twin’s face, for he knew he’d be unable to maintain his composure if he allowed himself to acknowledge how much Elrohir had been hurt while he had been able to do nothing.  He clenched his fists and closed his eyes as he waited for his twin to continue.

“You know, they hated me just because I was an elf--different,” Elrohir said, almost too softly to hear.  “The unceasing hatred had no reason other than that.” 

The sound of a rock being thrown angrily against the stone wall brought Elladan’s head up in surprise.  Elrohir’s mood had turned violent in the space of a heartbeat and Elladan actually drew back in shock as he opened his eyes and found that he was looking directly into an identical pair of hate-filled ones.

In a voice suddenly turned harsh, Elrohir ground out, “They were cruel, Elladan!  Cruel and uncaring...and it wasn’t only the overseers but the other slaves as well.  They took great pleasure in devising ways to make my life miserable.”  After a mirthless laugh he said, “And you wonder what is wrong when I cannot stand to be with a group of men!  My experience has shown me their true nature.  They are a despicable lot in whom I find no redeeming feature.  No sign of their worth.”  Elrohir shook his head and gazed at the ground in front of him as he finished, his teeth clenched in anger, “Oh, how I hate them all!”

At that, Elladan felt compelled to say something, “But Ro....Estel?”

“I already said he is different!  Were you not listening?” snapped Elrohir.  “I agree that he is not like the others, but one anomaly does not change the worth of the remainder.”

Elladan was shocked by the intense emotion radiating from his twin.  There was clearly a festering wound here that would need healing, but he felt so inadequate.  He wished for his father to magically appear with the right words to say but knew that that was unlikely to happen.  It was up to him to do something to help Elrohir right now and he groped helplessly for the right thing to say.

Speaking as calmly as he could, he said carefully, “Elrohir, I promise you, all men are not like those you remember.  You must find a way to put aside those memories and learn of the good in many of the others you will meet.”

“I cannot!” shouted Elrohir in reply, surging to his feet and pacing around the grotto in agitation.  “I cannot,” he repeated.

“Elrohir, what you cannot do is continue on the way you are going,” answered Elladan as forcefully as he dared.  “I see you slipping farther away with every passing day—not to mention this evening’s conduct.  Ro…you must try harder to move beyond the bad times and start living again.”

Elrohir had stopped his pacing and now faced his twin, his voice breaking in anguish as he cried out, “What do you want from me?!”

When Elladan didn’t immediately answer, he continued with such sadness in his voice that it nearly broke his brother’s heart, “I have tried, Elladan.  I have tried to fit in but have come to the realization that I will never belong here.  Being forced to spend hours in the company of men tonight was simply the final straw.  I have come to the unhappy understanding that I am no more than an actor, reciting lines that I have memorized but are not really my own.  I didn’t belong with those people tonight, and I don’t belong here!”

“I don’t understand, Ro,” Elladan cried, wanting so desperately to help his brother.  “You were doing so well and have learned so much since your return.  Why do you not feel a part of our lives?  What made you close yourself off?”

Elrohir sank back down onto a large boulder as he tried to put his thoughts into words.  “It…just doesn’t feel real to me,” he finally said.  “It is as if I have stepped into someone else’s life and tried to make it my own.  The more I learn of ‘your’ Elrohir’s role here, the more I realize that I cannot be that person.  He was a warrior, a healer, a diplomat.  I am nothing—a slave.”

“You are not!” shouted Elladan vehemently.  “You are whatever you wish to be!  If not a warrior, or a healer, or a diplomat, fine.  Pick something different.  But to allow two years to define your whole being is wrong.  Only you can determine where you go from here.  Furthermore, you may have forgotten your past, but understand this--no matter what, you will always be ‘my’ Elrohir!” he concluded almost angrily.

That last statement gained Elladan at least a moment when Elrohir’s gaze lightened, but then the younger twin shook his head, denying sadly what he wished were true, “Are we not what our memories make us?” he asked.  “All those past experiences that shaped the brother you knew are gone.  I may have his body, but that is not enough.  I cannot be who you and the others think I am.”

“I do not believe that,” answered Elladan with conviction.  “You may not realize it, but the ‘old’ Elrohir is still in there somewhere.  Many times you have demonstrated past behaviors without even knowing it.  But even that doesn’t matter.  Even if you choose to do something completely different from what you did before or choose to behave differently—it doesn’t matter.  You will always be my brother and I will always love you!”

Elrohir finally had to give his brother a little smile at the way Elladan shouted those last words.  Leave it to Elladan to make his point as strongly as needed.

That smile was enough to encourage Elladan to continue more softly, “Give it time, Ro.  You will build new experiences and memories that will shape who you become.  And know that you are never alone in this.  I will be at your side always, just as we have always been there for each other in the past.”

“Were we?” asked Elrohir unexpectedly. 

With a quizzical look, Elladan responded, “Were we what?”

“Always there for each other?” was his brother’s too serious answer.

“Of course!” answered Elladan with concern.  Just what was Elrohir trying to get at?

“Then why…” Elrohir took a deep breath before continuing.  “Why was I alone when I was lost?” he asked almost fearfully.  Before now, he had not tried to find out anything about that time in his past.  He was afraid the answer would reveal something he simply didn’t want to acknowledge.

Elladan looked back at him and said with a gentle smile, “We have always worked better as a team, but sometimes conflicting duties take us apart.  That was the case when you disappeared.  You were arranging for the purchase of horses in Rohan while I had to attend to duties here at home.  That is all.”

“We work as a team usually?” Elrohir asked, still sounding surprisingly uncertain. 

Elladan still didn’t know where his twin was going with his questions, but he answered carefully, “Of course.  Whenever we can.”

“Then…we were always close?” continued Elrohir, directing the conversation almost casually.  What he really had been wondering over the past few weeks was if his brother was merely spending so much time with him because he needed a keeper, or if it was because they were genuinely close to each other.  He had come to cherish the time he spent with his twin and couldn’t imagine life without him, but didn’t believe that Elladan--or anyone else for that matter--could feel the same for him.  Unable to voice his inner fears, though, he had been reluctant to even approach the issue before now.

Elladan considered the question so ludicrous that he was tempted to respond with some sort of sarcastic comment, but he felt that there was some deeper issue here, so he instead chose sincerity.

“Yes, we have always been close.  We were born just minutes apart, Ro, and ever since we have rarely been separated, and almost never by choice,” he said seriously.

“Almost never?” asked Elrohir, catching the subtle choice of words.

His brother grimaced, wishing he’d been more careful with his wording.  “Yes, there have been a few times when we chose to go separate ways.  But I want you to know that they weren’t often and we always regretted them,” he finished with a wry smile.

“Why would we choose to not be together?” pressed Elrohir, still not accepting that his twin truly could feel the same way he did.

Elladan smiled and shook his head, “Elrohir, believe me that those stories are better told later, not tonight when there’s already been enough upset.  Suffice it to say that we’ve made a rather large mess of things from time to time when we had disagreements.  Not our most banner moments, Ro, but considering that we have almost three thousand years of other good times together, I really don’t believe we should focus on those few instances.”

Elrohir regarded his brother in astonishment, his thoughts distracted from their past troubles.  He hadn’t even thought to ask how old they were before, but did Elladan just say they were almost 3,000 years old?!  It was staggering to know that he had lost so much.

As he looked away, he wondered what other surprises were awaiting him.  First he found out that he was an elven lord, then a twin, and now that he was almost 3,000 years old!  What next?  A wife and children?  With that thought, his head flew up and he regarded Elladan intently.  He would have mentioned something like that, right?  Still, he had somehow forgotten to tell him that they were twins, so…

“Uhm…do I…was there…” Elrohir began, hesitant to get the question out.

Elladan looked perplexed as he regarded his twin--now what?  “Out with it, Ro,” he said.

“Is there…a special lady in my life?” Elrohir asked, dreading the answer.  What if there was someone waiting for him--someone they had kept him from as he learned to fit in to their society?

Elladan’s chuckle reassured him, though.  “Nay.  There have been a number of ladies over the years who became special friends, but no single one that stands out.”

His brother’s look of utter relief made him add with a laugh, “You know, I cannot imagine what you think they would ever see in you…unless, of course, it was your incredible good looks!”

He felt a warm sense of triumph when Elrohir was startled into a laugh of his own.  It had been far too long since he’d heard his brother’s laugh and he was pleased beyond measure to have drawn one from him tonight.

After a moment, though, Elrohir’s smile faded and he sighed, relieved to find that there wasn’t another surprise awaiting him, but still feeling a bit sad to think that there was no one special for him.

Elladan saw the troubled look and, reading the look correctly, added quietly, “We are warriors, Elrohir, and spend much of our time away from home, defending our realm and attacking our enemies.  Our lifestyle hasn’t lent itself well to long-term relationships, but we have never been lonely.  After all, we’ve always had each other.”

Elrohir stared at his brother for awhile, accepting what he said, but still feeling the desperate need for some kind of final reassurance.  Keeping his eyes locked on his twin’s he asked seriously, “So what did you do while I was away?  Did you miss me?”

“Did I miss you?!” choked out the older twin.

Part of him wanted to shake Elrohir senseless for continuing to ask such stupid questions!  But another part of him just felt sad.  Even after everything he’d said and done, his twin still didn’t understand the link between them.  If he had to ask such a question, Elladan believed that it must mean Elrohir didn’t feel the special bond between them.  A deep sense of loss ran through him as he considered that he and his twin may never again be what they were.  Although that thought cut him deeply, it also strengthened his resolve to somehow, some way, find a way to show his brother just what they had been to each other and could be again.

He would start by finding an answer for his twin, who was looking at him, waiting for a response.

“Did I miss you?…Ro, do you still not understand?  If someone had cut off my hand, my arm, or even a leg, I would have missed them less than I missed you.  I am incomplete when we’re apart.” 

“And as for what I did...” Elladan raked his hand through his hair as he thought of the lonely years of searching.  “What I did while you were lost was to look for you.  I looked everywhere--in the mountains, in the plains, in towns and villages--anywhere that I might have a prayer of finding you.  And I would never have stopped.  I will always be there for you, just as...as you have always been there for me.” 

The older twin faltered at the end, not wanting to admit that he could no longer be certain of his twin’s devotion to him.

But at last he had broken through Elrohir’s doubts and the younger twin was ready to voice his own feelings.  He struggled, however, with what to say.  Although he was unable to imagine a life without the reassuring presence of his twin, he hesitated as he tried to come up with the right words.  As a slave--especially one that never spoke--he had never had to express himself verbally at all.  And now, he was trying to explain himself to one he cared more for than anyone else in the world.

For just a brief moment, Elrohir considered leaving his feelings unvoiced, but the sadness and uncertainty in his twin’s face wouldn’t allow him to do that.  For once, he was needed to do the comforting, and he wasn’t about to let his brother down.

“Elladan,” he said, softly laying a hand on his brother’s arm.  “I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the pain my disappearance caused you.  I do not know how it was that I ended up where I did, but I am very sorry that my being there and not with you caused you grief.  And…I know I am not the same as I was before and I am sorry for that as well, but...I just don’t know how to be that person.  But please believe me that I will never let you down again if it is in my power to prevent it.  I, too, will always be there for you.”

In that instant, the brothers shared a look that spoke more than all the words they could have used.  It was as if a small wound in both their hearts had finally been healed as they smiled at each other in perfect understanding.

The twins left the grotto shortly after that and made their way back to their rooms.  Elladan knew that there still were some serious issues to be faced, especially regarding Elrohir’s intense hatred of humans, but he was more content than he’d been in such a long time.  And Elrohir--he too knew that he had some major concerns that still needed addressing, but knowing that his twin would always be at his side gave him a sense of peace that he couldn’t ever remember having.

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After the twin’s talk, things seemed to go more smoothly than they had during the previous weeks.  Elrohir was still nowhere close to the friendly, lively elf that he’d been in times past, but at least he was making more of an effort to try to fit in to life in Rivendell.  Especially any time Elladan was present, Elrohir would make a visible attempt to be engaging and accept that he would have to find a way to make this life his own.

It was because of those efforts and change in attitude that Elrond made the decision several weeks later that he was going to have all three of his sons present when a dwarven peace delegation led by Lord Bremon came to Imladris.  Elrond had been working with his dwarven counterpart for decades trying to hammer out an agreement that would allow both their peoples to live in harmony rather than the overt hostility that usually marked any kind of interaction between dwarf and elf.

After the decision was made to have his sons attend the gathering, however, his old friend and advisor, Glorfindel, sought him out to express his reservations about allowing Elrohir to attend.  He certainly felt no resentment regarding Elrohir’s initial treatment of him and in fact, he and Elrohir had managed to have several pleasant encounters since.  But, that aside, Glorfindel simply felt that the young elven lord’s behavior was too unpredictable and could put the peace process at risk if anything unexpected happened.

So, while Glorfindel and Elrond were discussing preparations for hosting the peace delegation, Glorfindel felt it his duty to bring up the subject of Elrohir’s participation.

“My lord,” he said tentatively.  “Do you really believe Elrohir is ready for a meeting with the dwarves?  You recall how he reacted to the humans.  If they had not been good friends, it is likely that they would have left here offended.”

Elrond regarded his good friend soberly.  He had to admit to himself that he wasn’t sure that Elrohir should attend, but it still made him sad to hear Glorfindel voice the same reservations.

“What would you have me do?” the elven lord asked unhappily.  “Keep him hidden away as if we were ashamed of him?  He is having a hard enough time fitting in as it is.  If I show that I do not trust him, it will only make things worse.”

“Aye,” agreed Glorfindel, “but there is much at risk here.  Peace between our peoples is no small matter.   And you know how touchy the dwarves can be.  With negotiations this delicate, perhaps it would be better to find some other role for Elrohir to play...something to keep him away from the delegates.  We cannot risk him offending them.”

Elrond walked to the window and gazed down upon his beautiful realm as if searching for the answer out there.  Finding none, he turned back to his friend and said quietly, “He has made great strides, Glorfindel.  Especially in the past few weeks.  If he can get through this, I believe it would help immeasurably in his recovery.  He needs to know that he can still be a functioning part of this family.”

“Aye,” answered Glorfindel reluctantly.  “But the most surprising things seem to still bother him.”

“I know,” said Elrond with a grimace.  “I wish I could understand all that he went through so I could predict his behavior better, but he is very reluctant to speak of his experiences.  Other than a few things he has told Elladan, he has said almost nothing of his past.”

“Which is precisely why you should find a way to keep him from Lord Bremon and his people.  He is unpredictable,” argued Glorfindel, determined to make his friend see reason.  He wanted only what was best for Elrohir as well, but felt that this occasion was too important to risk.

Elrond was silent, considering, but then abruptly answered, “No.  I have made the decision and he will attend with his brothers.”

Glorfindel nodded once, understanding by Elrond’s tone that the subject was closed.  Well, he’d done his best and now it was up to Elrohir. 

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Elrohir himself wasn’t having any concerns about meeting the dwarves.  He knew why he’d reacted so strongly to the humans and didn’t have similar problems with the dwarves.  As far as he remembered, he had never even seen one, so he was not afraid he’d do anything to embarrass his family or jeopardize the peace talks.  After careful coaching from Elladan and Estel, he felt prepared to greet Lord Bremon and when the day arrived, calmly went with his brothers to do his duty.

It was to be an uncomplicated affair.  Elrond had already met and welcomed Lord Bremon and his contingent earlier.  The three brothers were part of the larger greeting ceremony where the dwarves and elves who were to work on the peace agreement would meet.  Elrond’s sons were to lead the elven group for the formal presentation to Lord Bremon, which would be followed by dinner in the large dining hall.  Yes, it was to be an uncomplicated affair, but once again the fates chose to intervene and cause problems for Lord Elrond’s unlucky middle son.

Elrohir followed Elladan into the room and immediately picked out the dwarven lord.  He was obviously the one standing by their father, decked out in gold mail.  The young elf walked forward confidently, but as he passed by the large group of Lord Bremon’s guard, his keen hearing picked up a stray comment by one of the dwarves standing in the back.  The dwarf apparently hadn’t been warned about elven hearing, for he said in a sneering whisper to one of his fellows, “Would you take a look at those haughty elves.  Just once I’d like to take one down to size!”

Elrohir faltered as he heard those words, but then moved forward as he felt Estel’s hand on his back, pressing him onward.  “Keep going,” Elladan hissed at his side, also having heard the comment.  “Ignore them and concentrate only on what Lord Bremon says.”

But what Elladan could not know was that Elrohir didn’t even hear him.  His thoughts had been thrown back in time when he’d heard the dwarf’s comments.  A scene from his past flashed into his mind—one where another dwarf was kicking him and gloating about ‘a stupid elf who had been taken down to size.’  The nearly identical words had triggered some spark of memory in the young elf’s mind and he couldn’t even process his brother’s admonition.

The next thing he knew, he and his brothers were being introduced by his father to the dwarven lord and he watched blankly as Elladan graciously greeted their honored guest.  When it was his turn, however, he couldn’t bring himself to clasp arms in greeting with the dwarf.  More memories of pain, jeers, and words of hatred being flung at him by dwarves swirled through his mind as he stood before Lord Bremon.

He was shocked back to the present when he heard his father say rather pointedly, “Elrohir, it is your turn to greet our guest.”

“I cannot,” the young elf choked as he pulled away from the dwarf’s outstretched arm.  “I cannot welcome one such as he into our home.”

To say that his behavior stunned the gathered company was a vast understatement.  For a moment, no one spoke as they looked at him in utter shock.  But then all hell broke loose as members of the dwarven honor guard pulled their swords, ready to defend their lord from the upstart young elf who dared to dishonor him.

An ugly battle may have commenced, had Elrond not intervened at that moment, finally overcoming his own sense of astonishment to take charge of the scene.

“Lord Bremon,” he said in a powerful voice loud enough to be heard over the din.  “I cannot apologize enough for the misguided words of my son.  In no way do they reflect my own views, nor those of our people.  I cannot fathom why he felt compelled to say them, but can only offer in his defense that he has suffered greatly at the hands of others for several years and has not yet fully recovered.  I am sure he spoke without thought and now wishes to offer his own apology.”

With that, the elven lord looked over at his son, willing him to say something to smooth things over.

Elrohir, however, wasn’t ready to apologize.  Not while his mind was full of confused, pain-filled images.  More and more memories of his days with the dwarves flooded his mind as he stood there, angry and upset by the whole situation.  He needed to explain, but couldn’t in front of his father’s gathered guests.  And yet, his father clearly expected him to say something.  In near panic, the distressed elf’s eyes flew to his twin, hoping for some kind of guidance or at least some sign of support.  Hurt to see only disappointment and frustration in Elladan’s expression, he turned back to his father, who was looking angrier by the moment.

“I…” Elrohir started, but then swallowed and shook his head, unable to say anything useful.

Elrond approached his son, furious that his decades-long attempt to make peace with the dwarves could unravel in front of his eyes due to this unforeseen response from Elrohir.  Ignoring for the moment that Glorfindel had warned him about just such a disaster, he took his son’s arm and shook him slightly.

“Elrohir, I insist you apologize to our guest for your misspoken words,” he demanded, anger clear in his tone.

The young elf stepped back, even more uncertain now as he faced the angry elven lord.  Never before had he seen this side of his father and he felt ill as he realized that he probably had just destroyed his fledgling relationship with him.

Seeing that Elrohir was not about to comply, Elrond said in a low voice, pitched so their guests wouldn’t overhear, “You have shamed me and our people with your disgraceful behavior.  I know not why you have chosen such behavior, but your rudeness is inexcusable.  You are no longer welcome at this evening’s table.  You will return to your room and await me there.”

Elrohir swallowed hard as he drowned in humiliation.  How could his father do this?  He was being banished in front of these vile beings!  He didn’t move, unbelieving at what had just happened until he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning him to the door.  “I will take him to our chambers and then return, Adar, “ he heard Elladan say quietly.

Angrily, Elrohir wrenched his shoulder out of his hands and ground out bitterly, “No need!  I know the way!”  Not even Elladan was on his side!

With the acknowledgement of that ultimate betrayal, he pivoted and then walked gracefully out of the room, head held high, but cheeks flaming in embarrassment as he accepted his disgrace.  It didn’t help that with his excellent hearing he could hear several of the dwarves snickering at his dismissal.

Once he was free from the suffocating presence of the dwarves and the bitter disappointment of his father and brother’s treatment of him, however, Elrohir allowed himself to break into a run.  He blindly raced through the corridors, ignoring all the astonished looks he received from the elves he passed.  Eventually, he reached a dead end and had to make a decision.  Wrenching open the door to his right, he found what looked to be an unused stairway and slamming the door behind him, started running up the winding stairs, not caring where he ended up as long as it was somewhere that he could be alone.

After sprinting up five stories, he came to another door which opened up to the outside.  Pushing through, Elrohir found himself on a high-up parapet which overlooked his father’s valley.  Unable to go any further, he leaned against the waist-high wall and then crumbled bonelessly to the floor as he tried to get his scrambled emotions, not to mention his breathing, under control.

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It was many hours before he felt calm enough to accept that he would have to leave his little sanctuary.  He realized with some surprise as he walked quietly through the halls that more time had passed than he had thought, for he saw no other elves as he made his way to his rooms.  He hoped that he’d be able to make it to his room without meeting anyone, but when at last he opened the door to the sitting room, he unhappily noted that his twin was seated in one of the large chairs, apparently waiting for him.  Not wanting to speak to anyone, and at this point especially not his twin, he ignored Elladan’s presence and started directly for his own room.

Elladan, however, wasn’t about to watch his brother disappear into his room without some kind of explanation for today’s behavior.  In fact, he wanted some answers as to where his twin had been for half the day.  He had returned to their rooms hours ago from the dinner, worried about him, and then had ended up scouring their home for some sign of the missing elf.  He had finally given up the hunt only a short while ago, so he was more than irritated with Elrohir at the moment for causing him such worry.

“And just where have you been?” Elladan asked, stepping in front of Elrohir to prevent him from entering his room.

Glaring back at his brother, Elrohir answered with a tight jaw, “I understood that where I go is none of your affair.  Unless, after all, I am a prisoner here.”

“Do not speak foolishly,” Elladan snapped back.  “It is only ‘my affair’ because I was concerned for you.  I did not expect to find you adding to your disgrace by disobeying Ada twice today and not coming to our rooms as he directed.”

“I needed to be alone,” his brother answered back defensively.

“And you could not be alone here since so many others inhabit our chambers?” Elladan questioned sarcastically.

Trying to push past his brother, Elrohir shot back, “Perhaps I did not wish to have to explain myself to anyone--and that includes ‘anyone’ who might inhabit our chambers!”

“Meaning me?” demanded his twin.

“Take it how you will,” ground Elrohir, finally shouldering his way past Elladan and stalking toward his room.

“I am not finished!”  shouted Elladan.  “Do not you turn your back on me!” he continued as he grabbed his brother’s arm and yanked him around.

He had intended to continue his questioning concerning his brother’s whereabouts, but what happened next shocked the elder twin to the very core of his being.  As he reached out to grab his brother’s other arm to force him to look him in the eyes, Elrohir turned his head away, as if trying to deflect a blow.

Elrohir’s reaction had been instinctive.  Tension, yelling, hands grabbing him…when he saw Elladan’s hand come toward him, his unconscious assessment was that his brother was about to strike him.

Horrified, Elladan jerked his hand away from his brother as if burned.  He couldn’t believe that his twin would ever think that he would hit him!

Elrohir simply froze where he was.  The implications of what he believed had nearly happened staggered him as well.  After his talk with Elladan, he had been trying harder to fit in, deciding that he did indeed belong here and it would simply be a matter of time before he actually felt like this was his home.  But now he didn’t know what to think.  If Elladan could even consider striking him, it would change all understanding of what the two meant to each other.

The twins both regarded each other in shock, neither immediately making a move in their mutual dismay and horror over what had just happened.  The two would have undoubtedly talked things over momentarily, but in a case of phenomenally bad timing, their father chose that precise instant to enter the room.

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

“Elrohir, where have you been?” demanded the elven lord, still obviously upset with his son.

When Elrohir didn’t answer immediately, Elrond continued in a cold voice, “I came by these rooms several times in the past hours to speak to you, but you obviously disobeyed me and were not here.  I demand an explanation.”

*This couldn’t be happening!* was Elrohir’s only thought.  But sure enough, there was his father standing in front of him, looking angry enough that perhaps he’d want to strike him as well!

“I....I apologize, my lord,” he finally said quietly, trying desperately to keep his emotions under control when in fact he felt like his world was crumbling before his very eyes.

“That is not enough!” barked Elrond, his anger at the near disaster created by Elrohir clouding his usual good judgment.  “You nearly ruin decades of careful negotiations because of some unfounded prejudice against dwarves and then further add to your disgrace by disobeying me.  There can be no good excuse for that kind of behavior.  I am ashamed of you!”

“Adar…” choked Elrohir, truly not knowing what to say in his horror at this situation.  If he’d looked over at his twin, he would have been gratified to see Elladan looking equally shocked and dismayed at their father’s words, but he felt trapped in his father’s fiery gaze and couldn’t have pulled his eyes away even if he’d wanted.

Still not calm enough to realize the effect his words were having on his son, Elrond continued his barrage coldly, “I understand that you are unfamiliar with our ways and have made allowances for that, but your behavior tonight was beyond what I can condone and it cannot go unanswered.  Your rudeness to my guest nearly ruined years of diplomacy--years that I have spent working toward harmony between the elves and dwarves.  Lord Bremon was gracious enough to accept my apology so all was not lost, but I insist that you give one of your own as well.  It is time you accept your responsibility as my son, and so I have arranged a private meeting between you and Lord Bremon tomorrow morning at breakfast.  I expect you there promptly and also expect you to behave in the manner befitting an elven lord.”

Elrohir remained motionless as he stared at his father’s angry countenance.  He had thought he had hit a low point when he’d been dismissed from his family’s presence earlier, but that didn’t even begin to compare with how he was feeling now.  Worse than worthless, his self-loathing threatened to choke him.  If he could anger his father so greatly and cause Elladan to be so upset that he would consider striking him, he must be a truly contemptuous creature!

None of that showed on his face, however.  He had learned his lessons all too well as a slave and knew that in the presence of one who was angry with you, you should never show your feelings.  Therefore, he was completely expressionless as he nodded and answered formally, “I shall do your bidding, my lord.”

‘My lord.’  Elladan noted his brother’s second use of the title with dismay.  How had it come to this where Elrohir felt it necessary to call their father by a title as opposed to a more familiar name?  He was horrified at the whole scene before him, but did not know how to fix anything given his father’s unrelenting anger and his brother’s unexplained behavior. 

Fortunately, Elrond was satisfied with Elrohir’s response and with a firm nod of his head, he left his sons once more alone.

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

Long moments passed when neither brother said anything.  Elrohir had still not moved from the spot where he’d received his father’s lecture and Elladan also seemed frozen in place, unsure what to say.

Finally, the elder twin approached his brother, needing answers for this mixed up situation.

“Elrohir, could you please tell me now what happened?” he asked quietly.

Elrohir turned his head to his brother, but didn’t speak.  Why should he?  Right now he felt raw, hurt, even angry.  Angry at the dwarves, of course, but also angry at Elladan for not being there for him.  Angry at their father for not even wanting to know the reasons for his behavior.  And most of all, angry at himself for being such a stupid idiot that he couldn’t even manage to control himself for one evening.  No...he didn’t feel like talking to Elladan right now.  He just wasn’t up to hearing one more person confirm his worthlessness.  More than anything else, he wanted to go to bed and hope he’d wake up and find this day had all been a bad dream.

“I wish to go to bed.  Please let me pass,” he said without emotion.

Elladan didn’t move from his path, saying earnestly, “Elrohir, please talk to me.”

“I do not wish to discuss anything.  Let me pass,” responded his twin, still without expression.

Elladan opened his mouth to ask once more, but seeing the angry expression on Elrohir’s face, he finally accepted defeat, moved aside, and silently let his brother go.

Elrohir went into his room without even a glance for his twin, leaving Elladan standing, staring at the closed door.  These emotional upheavals were getting old, the elder twin thought bitterly, hurt by his brother’s refusal to even talk to him.

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

Hours later, unable to sleep, Elladan couldn’t stay away any longer and quietly entered Elrohir’s room, determined to wake him up and make him talk!  He stopped abruptly when he saw the bed was empty.  Had Elrohir run off?  With a brief sense of panic, his eyes flew around the room until to his relief he found his twin sitting in the window, staring out into the darkness.

“Ro?” he asked quietly.

The younger twin said nothing, but did turn his head, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

Elladan joined his brother in the window, leaning against the other side just as he had countless times before.

“I couldn’t sleep...and hoped we could talk,” he explained.  “Elrohir, I want to help.  Please…tell me what happened today.”

For a moment, Elladan thought his brother would continue to keep him at a distance, but Elrohir was not longer feeling angry, only infinitely sad.  He finally gave a deep sigh and looked out into the night, whispering quietly, “It was dwarves after all.  I didn’t know.”

Not understanding at all what he meant, Elladan asked, “It was dwarves that what?”

“Actually, it was what that one dwarf said.  You remember, when he talked about taking us down to size?” was the unsatisfactory answer.

Still not following his brother, but concerned that such a foolish little statement could cause Elrohir to react so badly, Elladan said earnestly, “You know that the dwarf was just spouting nonsense.  Why ever did you allow that to affect you enough that you would risk ruining Ada’s meeting with Lord Bremon?”

Elrohir gave his brother a troubled look as he answered, “It wasn’t him exactly.  I mean, not that particular dwarf.  Or even what he said, really.  Rather, it was what the words reminded me of.  I would have overlooked them, but they triggered a memory.  It was of something that happened after I had lost my memory, but nonetheless was something that I had forgotten until today.”

When Elrohir’s pause lasted too long, Elladan was finally forced to prompt him impatiently, “And….?”

Elladan had to strain to hear what his brother said next, “It was dwarves.  Dwarves that sold me to the slavers.  Dwarves who kicked me, beat me, and laughed the whole while they were doing it.”

His hands slowly clenched into fists as he continued hoarsely, “I don’t know how they captured me—I don’t remember anything before waking up in their camp, trussed tightly despite many injuries.  Their treatment of me was…not kind,” he finished with obvious understatement.

“Dwarves?” Elladan choked in horror.  “Dwarves hurt you and then sold you?”

He was barely able to contain his rage as he considered all the heartache they had caused.  The agonizing grief and sorrow, the unbearable loneliness, the years of suffering that not only Elrohir, but his whole family had experienced.  All this had been caused by those...those rock-spawned, low-life vermin!?

He grabbed his brother’s shoulders as he snarled in question, “They caused all this?”

Elrohir said nothing, his quiet gaze finally penetrating Elladan’s anger and he pulled back abruptly. 

“We must tell Ada,” the older twin said fiercely.

“No!” commanded Elrohir.  “I caused enough damage today.  I will not allow peace between our peoples to be put in jeopardy once more because of me.  You are not to tell anyone what I have just told you.”

“But Ada…” protested Elladan.

“No one!” reaffirmed his brother.  “I will make my apologies tomorrow as directed and that will be the end of it.”

“But they should not be allowed to get away with…” began Elladan.

His brother swiftly cut him off, however, “They already have!  What is done is done!  Do not make me regret sharing my confidences with you.”

“Very well,” hissed Elladan after a long moment, not liking this at all, but realizing that he risked losing Elrohir’s trust if he defied him in this.

“Do you promise not to tell anyone?” pressed Elrohir.

“Aye,” was the growled response.

After that, neither twin knew exactly what to say, both lost in their own battle of raging emotions. 

Elrohir found himself unable to decide who he hated more—the dwarves or himself.  Despite his decision to take no action regarding the dwarves’ sale of him to the slavers, he found that it wasn’t so easy to mentally leave the dwarves’ actions in the past.  And then his anger at them was compounded by his own self-loathing, furious at himself for causing his father to gaze at him with such anger and disappointment and driving his beloved twin to nearly strike him.

Elladan’s emotions were much more clear and focused.  It was white, hot rage that burned inside him.  Rage at a group of beings who had taken his twin from him and hurt him.  Rage like he hadn’t felt since he and Elrohir had found their mother, broken at the hands of orcs.  It fueled a thirst for vengeance that he had to swallow due to his promise to Elrohir, but that only left him frustrated beyond measure. 

Eventually, both of the twins went to bed, although neither was able to sleep much that night as they reflected on the day’s discoveries.

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

The next morning dawned bright and clear--a beautiful day that normally would have lightened the hearts of Elrond’s sons.  On this particular morning, however, none of them were really in the mood to enjoy the stunning sunrise.  Elrohir, of course, was preoccupied with the upcoming meeting with Lord Bremon.  Elladan was still hovering somewhere between rage and deep sorrow.  And Aragorn, who had been on the periphery of much of the drama, was simply feeling upset as he saw his family dealing with this latest set of troubles.

All three had met in the twin’s sitting room, not by design, but because they had all arisen early and had to go somewhere before breakfast.  It wasn’t a very cheery group that sat there, though, each silent and grim as they faced their individual worries.  When the knock finally came alerting Elrohir that Lord Bremon was ready to meet him, it startled all three into jumping slightly in surprise.

“Elrohir...” began Elladan, only to be cut off abruptly with a swift gesture from his twin.

“Please say nothing,” requested Elrohir.  “Just let me do this and then it will be over.”

He turned to his little brother, who looked like he was about to speak as well, “And that goes for you too.  Please...there’s nothing to say.”  His face remained expressionless, but his eyes relayed his thanks for their silent support, and then without saying anything else, he walked out of the room.

The corridors had never seemed so long as they did that morning as Elrohir trailed behind the elf who had come to summon him.  He didn’t know this particular elf, but that wasn’t too surprising, since there were still a great many elves that he hadn’t met since his return.  He was grateful that this one didn’t feel inclined to speak and followed him silently until they at last came to the guest rooms that had been set aside for Lord Bremon and his party.  Without saying anything at all, the strange elf gave a short nod, and then walked quietly away.

Elrohir stood outside the door for a moment, unsure of what to do.  He had expected to see his father this morning with some kind of instructions on how this was to work.  After a few minutes of just standing there, though, he realized that he was on his own and finally decided to knock.

After hearing an “Enter,” Elrohir opened the door and walked into Lord Bremon’s room.  The table in his chambers had been set up with breakfast and there were two places set.  Elrohir was unaware that he was actually supposed to eat with the dwarf, but sat down nonetheless when Lord Bremon gestured to the other chair.

The following hour turned out to be a complete surprise for both of them.  Elrohir had expected the dwarven lord to be pompous and angry after his behavior the previous day, while Lord Bremon had expected the young elven lord to be hostile and barely civil after being ordered to apologize.  Neither one of their predictions turned out to be even remotely correct.  Elrohir found Lord Bremon personable and even amusing as the dwarf led the conversation, effortlessly putting his breakfast guest at ease.  And Lord Bremon was thoroughly charmed by Elrohir’s sincere apology followed by his subdued, yet friendly demeanor.  By the end of the breakfast, both had come to see in the other a potential friend and were quite pleased at how the morning had turned out. 

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

It would have thrilled everyone if Elrohir’s success with Lord Bremon had translated into him feeling more content with himself overall, but Elrohir didn’t allow himself to see that he had taken a difficult task and done a wonderful job.  No...the sad young elf only told himself afterward that he was thankful how things had turned out, but that it wouldn’t have been necessary if he hadn’t made such a mess of things to begin with.

Thus, the incident with the dwarves, no matter how well it turned out in the end, was the catalyst for Elrohir withdrawing even further into himself.  Days after the talks were over and the dwarven delegation had left, the family was dismayed to see Elrohir becoming even more reclusive and joyless. 

Elrond, who had long since calmed down and was berating himself up one side and down the other for his thoughtless treatment of his son earlier, pulled Elrohir aside after a particularly gloomy lunch, determined to get through to his son.

“Elrohir,” he said once the two of them were alone in his study, “It is obvious you are very unhappy here.  I’d like you to talk to me--tell me what I can do to help you feel more content.”

“There is nothing, my lord,” he answered formally.

Elrond couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips at hearing the title.  Yes...he knew he deserved that, but it still hurt when his son so clearly was determined to keep his distance.

Getting straight to the point, Elrond tried to once more get through to his stubborn, but hurting boy, “Son, I am sorry I was harsh with you before.  It was my anger speaking and I let it get the better of me.  Of course, you were rude to our guest, but you repaired the damage and now we should all put this behind us.”

Elrohir regarded his father.  Did he really believe that he could put it behind him that easily?

Elrond put a hand on his shoulder, but the younger elf stiffened at the touch, causing his father to pull it away sadly.

“Please talk to me,” Elrond begged his son.

Elrohir looked intently at his father, desperately wanting to blurt out all his fears and sorrows, but he was too deeply mired in despondency to believe that anything would change by telling him.  No...it would only show his weak character and nothing would be solved, so he simply said nothing.

After it became apparent that he wasn’t going to open up, Elrond reluctantly told Elrohir he could go.  Once his son had left and the Lord of Rivendell was alone, he sat at his desk and then buried his face in his arms.  His heart felt like breaking as he contemplated never being able to find a way to regain the trust he had unwittingly shattered.

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

After several more weeks went by, a new “normal” was established for the expected behavior of Elrond’s middle son.  On the surface, Elrohir’s behavior was flawless.  The clever elf had learned his role well and appeared calm, articulate, and polished—the perfect model of an elven lord.  But what was now completely missing was the spark of vitality that had always been such a key part of Elrohir’s personality, even in the months after his brothers had found him.  In contrast to his current behavior, his earlier behavior (although subdued as well), seemed positively giddy.  Now it became apparent that the young elf was completely bereft of any sense of joy in his life.

This was not Elrohir being stubborn and reclusive just for its own sake or to prove a point.  No, it was because the young elf had decided after his disaster with the dwarves, he would never again allow himself to be in the position to embarrass or otherwise harm his family.  If the only way to ensure that it never happened was to close his feelings off and concentrate on making no mistakes, then that’s exactly what he would do.

He started using the isolated parapet that he’d stumbled across as a sort of sanctuary.  It became the place he could be alone when he found that he needed to escape the others for awhile.  He had never seen anyone on it, so it was perfect when he wanted to find refuge from his growing unhappiness.  It was the perfect hideout from the imperfect situation in which he found himself.  He wanted to feel like he belonged here and was a valuable member of the family, but more and more he was realizing that his contributions were limited at best, if not at times actually detrimental.

It was there that he went one evening after his return.  The months since he’d been home had changed his life greatly.

Far from the happiness one would have expected for the young elf, Elrohir found himself wishing that he’d never been found—that Estel had never come to the farm and brought him home.  It had been a lonely, often brutal life of toil and hardship, but that was nothing compared to the certain knowledge that he had become a burden to his family.  In his distress and unhappiness, Elrohir could not see any of the joy his mere presence brought to his friends and family.  All he saw, was that his father and brothers, whom he had come to love more dearly than life itself, had had to pick up the pieces of whatever disaster he created.  He could see how much his actions troubled the others, and could only wish that he could disappear and trouble them no more. 

But that would mean that he would have some place to go.  As he sat their looking out into the early twilight, he asked the sky his continuing, unanswerable questions, “Who am I?…Where do I belong?”  As he realized the answer to that question was “nowhere,” his despondency threatened to overwhelm him.

“I am worthless,” the miserable elf whispered, the hatred he felt for himself clear in every syllable.

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