Grief
Summary: Elrohir and Elladan, still grieving over the absence of their mother, begin to question their actions. Oneshot but could be extended to a few chapters.
Elrohir lifted his bow and gently pulled on the coarse horses hair that was strung in between the two ends of the bow. His eyes, sharp and clear, watched the woods warily, flicking to each shadow that disturbed the ominous calm that had suddenly settled over the small area of forest. Crouching lower, he pressed his long fingers into the soft earth, balancing himself as he pulled an arrow from the quiver tied to his back.
A shadow moved beside him and from the corner of his eye, he could see the identical form of his brother crouch beside him. Looking towards the familiar outline, he could see in the darkness of the deep woods, Elladan's eyes shine from the small rays that escaped the thick canopy. Nodding at his brother, he saw his twin give a small incline of his head, the only indication that he had seen his signal. Pulling his arrow taut in his slender bow, he watched as his brother quietly pulled out two long, curved swords and moved swiftly into the woods in front of them. Following him slowly, he could see hulking shapes through the brush and smell the odour of filth and blood. The trees around him were marked with the scars of axes and claws from the terrible beasts that had moved through the clearing.
Both brothers stopped for a moment. Releasing the arrow from its firm position in his bow he could see Elladan sprint through the bushes, swinging his two long swords at the hulking figure. A thud and the sound of a slash met his ears and he lowered his bow warily. His brother moved back through the bushes, sheathing his swords once more.
"Straight shot," Elladan said as he moved towards him, his face drawn and serious.
Elrohir nodded, fighting back the pleased smile that threatened to slyly move onto his face. His brother was often quiet and withdrawn, preferring isolation from everyone except his twin. It wasn't often that he spoke praise to anyone. They would sometimes be in each others presence for hours without a word passing between them. As they were sons of a prominent elven lord, it was difficult for the brothers to find another to confide in without the stress of status and politeness.
"Shall we set up camp?" Asked Elrohir, noticing the small slump to his brother's shoulders.
"Aye."
Walking through the forest carefully, the twins stepped between the great roots that were splayed across their path. The trees groaned around them, greeting the two elven lords that had happened across their path. A great shudder moved through a gnarled and twisted tree that they passed under, sending a shower of petals down to the immortal beings below. As lords of the land, they shared a special connection with the forest and its inhabitants and the forest respected them as its protectors. As no words could be shared, the trees had their own ways of thanking them for their care. Touching the great trunk that stood beside them, Elrohir shared his warmth with the cold bark.
"Shall we stop here?"
Dropping his bow to the ground, he whistled sharply and waited for the thundering of hooves. Soon, a whiny and the sound of two horses entered their ears and two black horses moved into the clearing. Moving towards his own steed he stroked the soft muzzle and unhooked the sleeping mat that was connected to the saddle. He could see Elladan do the same.
Using the discarded pieces of wood and bark that was strewn around the forest floor, Elladan started to build a fire.
As the sun began to set and the moon rose towards the middle of the sky, Elrohir fell into a comfortable silence with his brother. For years they had been following the same pattern. They would hear a report of a company of Orcs entering the forests of Imladris and would set off immediately, not returning to their father and home until they had hunted every last Orc and exacted their revenge. Since their mother left for the undying lands, their father had not the heart to stop their pursuit of justice and would wearily watch his children ride off with hate in their hearts.
The next day, the two brothers rode into Imladris, dismounting at the main stairs to their household and allowing two stable hands to relieve their horses. Atop the stairs, the steady form of their father stood, the slim figure of their sister beside him. Looking to his brother, he could see the same look of discomfort spread across his face before it was replaced with one of apathy. Putting a heavy hand on Elladan's shoulder, he started to ascend the great stone steps that led to his sister and father.
"Was your trip successful?" Asked Lord Elrond as he gazed at their faces with a look of concern, pity and disappointment. They knew that their father didn't approve of their missions, of their endless pursuit of Orcs and of trying to find redemption through the foul creatures deaths.
"We dispatched a band of orcs yesterday."
"Did it bring you peace?" Asked their sister, her mouth in a tight line of concern and anger.
Elladan stopped next to him, having ascended the stairs after his brother, "Must you ask this upon the return of every patrol we do?"
"It is, as your family, what we must ask."
"As our family, you should understand why we do this," Elladan said, his face drawn with anger.
Their father, calm in the face of his son's anger, spoke carefully, "We understand that you still grieve. We all do. However, your methods of grieving are not those that we could understand."
Elrohir placed his hand on his brother's shoulders as he moved forward to confront his father. He knew that no violence would erupt between the two males but his gesture was one of habit. Elladan, while being more contemplative and drawn then his brother, was quicker to anger.
His father turned to Elrohir, "I know that you must not feel the same passion for vengeance that your brother does. You have never displayed such emotions that Elladan has, why do you continue to accompany him?"
Frowning and stepping back, Elrohir released his hands from Elladan's shoulders, and looked between his family. Attempting to form a retort, he continued to look between them before speaking through clenched teeth, "my actions need not be questioned as they are. I feel as much anger and passion over my mother tragedy than my brother does."
Turning away from his father and siblings, he clenched his hands as he walked towards his room. He could hear no sound behind him and was glad that he would have a moment of solitude to relieve the turbulence raging inside of him. He could not help but feel that he was convincing himself of his anger towards the torture his mother received. He felt strong emotions towards the events surrounding her but more so towards grief then towards vengeance and anger. However, as a twin, he would not leave his brother to his anger alone.
Entering his room, he shut the door behind him as he gazed around at the bare lodgings. Though he had lived in these quarters for most of his life, there were only small signs of his presence. A spare bow perched next to a wall, swords mounted adjacent, a painting of his mother perched next to his bed, the sheets neat and clean from the diligence of the house holds servants.
Sighing wearily, he let his fingers trail on the bed before slowly walking to the balcony outside his room. Leaning against the ornamental railing, he watched the activity of his home. Servants rushed to and fro, some carrying baskets of flowers, others with silver platters of food for those that wished to eat alone. The trees were calmly waving in the wind, their leaves a mesh of green, gold and silver as they glittered from the sun. A lord and a lady walked, arms interlocked, throughout the elaborate gardens, passing around the statues and fountains that decorated the bare patches of green and luscious grass.
It bothered him that in such paradise, he was not at peace. Years ago, his mother would have looked out from her room and felt the same disquiet and trauma as he did. He could not imagine a paradise that was so beautiful and complete that it would heal him entirely. Being so close to his twin, he knew that without the happiness of his brother, he could never be content. The stories from his people's past had taught him that even the undying lands held their share of problems. He wouldn't be in this land if that were untrue. If that were so, if the undying lands were riddled with unrest, why would his mother choose such a land over one that contained her family, her children?
Shaking his head, he could hear the sound of the door opening and shutting quietly. The soft sound of his brother's footsteps as he walked across the familiar room, so like his own, and towards the balcony.
"You once told me that you wished for revenge."
Elrohir looked out at the valley, "that I did."
"Were you being truthful?"
"At the time."
"But not at this time?"
He paused before answering, "No… not at this time…"
"What we have been doing, was that for yourself… or for me?"
"I'm not sure. I think that because we are so similar, it was for both my sake and yours."
"I…" He could see Elladan falter as he thought of a response. He turned to his brother and leaned with one arm on the balcony as he watched him. His face had become confused and unsure, as if he was fighting a mental battle with himself.
Without warning, Elladan turned and walked off the balcony, opened the door and left.
Elrohir let a tension filled breath escape him.
AN: So I wanted to leave on this note because I think it conveyed all that I needed to share. I wanted to display the brothers as mentally anguished over the loss of their mother. Confused and unsure of what they were doing and what reason they maintained for their actions. If this receives enough attention, I would love to do another chapter that explores the issue more. Maybe feature Arwen a little more and Elrond in a father position.
Anyways, thank you for reading this far. Please review!
