Chapter 2: I’m going mad?

“Why are you in such a sour mood, Elrondion? It’s much too fine a day for sleeping so long.”

Elrohir, confused, blinked at the warrior leaning over his bed who was relieving him of his bed covers.

He had not even heard Glorfindel enter the room, nor did he appreciate being awakened in such a manner. At his irritated look the warrior only laughed and tossed him his leggings.

“Hurry, you are missing breakfast,” he called over his shoulder and was already out the door closing it with a loud thud.

Elrohir glanced at the closed door aghast. He knew that Glorfindel had a weird sense of humour but this was going too far.

Yes, Elladan´s death was now five months past, but what was expected of him? Did they think that he would return to normal and act as if nothing had happened? He felt his brother’s death as keenly now as on the day when one-half of his soul had been ripped out forever.

He struggled day after day against the overwhelming desire to fade. He pretended that he could go on without his brother at his side but he knew that he was betraying himself in the long run. He was not living he was merely surviving, and this only for the sake of his father.

The Elf-lord had been devastated when word had reached him that Elladan had been killed. Elrohir was sure that his father would succumb to grief if he would give in and fade.

Yet, how long could he hold up this charade? Part of him had died with Elladan on that fateful day and the other part was slowly dying every day he had to endure without his twin. His father would have to accept this sooner or later.

Elrohir did not underestimate his father’s perception. Although the Half-elf’s sharp mind was clouded by grief, he looked at him differently of late, as if expecting him to make the final announcement every moment.

Glorfindel´s cheerful attitude this morning just didn’t fit the depressed atmosphere in the house. Their long time mentor had been as devastated as all the other family members and he had never returned to his unique mannerisms since then.

With a heavy sigh and the now familiar ache in his heart Elrohir dragged himself into the bathing chamber. Surprisingly he felt hungry and earnestly considered accepting Glorfindel´s invitation.

Since Elladan´s death he had no longer felt hungry and only the constant urging of his father had sustained him so far. He had mostly kept to himself in the last months. The despair surrounding him was only endurable in his own rooms.

When he had made himself presentable he left his rooms and nearly collided with Erestor hurrying down the corridor.

“Good morning, Elrohir,” the advisor called over his shoulder and vanished around a corner. Elrohir shook his head. Was this a new strategy to cheer him up? He frowned. This was weird. Nothing would ever fill the emptiness which had taken permanent residence in his soul and this pretend cheerfulness around him all of a sudden would only succeed in driving him further away.

Elrohir had nearly reached the end of the corridor when the door to his father’s study opened. He stopped short, surprised by the sight. Seeing the Elf-lord this early in the morning coming from his office was a rare sight of late. Although in the past he had been determined to run the community as efficiently as possible, Elrond had sorely neglected his duties in the last months.

However Elrohir´s surprise turned into irritation when his father smiled at him openly. “Good morning, my son. Did you sleep well?” he asked with the same cheerfulness Glorfindel and Erestor had displayed this morning.

Elrohir swallowed. What was this game about? His father knew that he had not slept properly since Elladan´s death – nightmares and night terrors had been his ever-present companions since then.

His father had endured many a night with him united in their shared grief.

However his father’s smile vanished when he saw the bewildered expression on his son’s face. “Elrohir what is it?” he asked his tone concerned now. “What is ailing you?”

Elrohir had to blink. His father’s question seemed earnest and the worry in his eyes appeared genuine. As if his father did not know what was bothering him.

Before Elrohir could react in any way the door to the dining room opened and Elladan poked his head out. “Hey sleepy-head, about time you arrived. I’m starving. Come in!” he called winking at his brother.

Elrohir fainted without giving his father a chance to catch his body before he hit the floor.

To be continued……………..