All was quiet. Glorfindel stood outside in the practice fields, sparring with the young warriors. Lindir sat under a pile of robes in his closet, composing music and hiding from his older brothers. The kitchen staff were working at a relaxed pace, handing out treats to stray elflings who wandered through. The Lord and Lady of Rivendell were away in Lindon visiting Lady Celebrían's parents. The twins had been left behind as they were still deemed too young to travel outside of the protected valley - and a large part of the reason for leaving was to give the parents some time away from the children. As much as the elves loved their children, one could only handle two rambunctious half-elven twins before needing a long, relaxing break.

Young elves were outside sparring, walking, riding, and picnicking by some of the many waterfalls. The sky was clear and the weather was warm. The entire valley was wrapped in a feeling of comfort, relaxation, and peace. Erestor was sitting at his desk reading a saucy romance novel tucked safely within the pages of a much heavier history tome when the peace was broken by a loud, frantic scream. Recognizing the voice, he nearly threw his book down as he ran into the hallway, nearly colliding with one of the twins as the shrieking elfling ran from his own room.

Reaching out to stop him, Erestor's concern grew when the elfling – judging from the way the hair was pulled back, Erestor guessed uncertainly that it was Elladan he held – pushed and shoved him, showing no signs of recognition. Breaking free, Elladan fled down the hall leaving Erestor with no choice but to follow. The elfling raced outside and ran around the the side of the house towards the patch of lawn below the window of the room he shared with his brother. When he and Erestor got there however, they found a small crowd of elves had already arrived before them.

In the centre of the small group was Glorfindel, crouched beside a small form crumpled in the grass. Erestor's heart lurched sickeningly and he swayed as he realized what must have happened. Elladan shoved his way past the other elves to try and get to the body on the ground, but Glorfindel gently held him back. Hefting the screaming elfling into his arms, the reborn warrior stood suddenly and addressed the small group of elves that had followed him when they had first seen the small form fall from the second floor window.

"Leave us." He stated firmly, and the gathered warriors quickly dissipated, leaving behind Glorfindel, Erestor, and the inconsolable Elladan. Passing the kicking Elladan to Erestor, Glorfindel quickly crouched once more beside the small body in the grass. His hands shook slightly as he gently turned the limp body over, ignoring Erestor as the other elf crouched nearby, both of his arms still fully dedicated to keeping hold of the struggling elfling.

Elladan began hiccuping between his wails and cries, and Erestor jolted slightly when small teeth found his arms and the child bit down hard. Still, he held the elfling close to his body with one arm, while the other stroked his hair helplessly, not sure what he was trying to accomplish with the futile gesture.

When Glorfindel finally turned back to them, he was ashen faced and shaking. He shook his head gently. Erestor's hold went limp, and the elfling he held tumbled onto the ground, crawling to where his twin lay and collapsing across the body and tightly gripping the shirt. Elladan's wails and shrieks died almost instantly, and he instead lie silent and limp across his twin's body, moving one hand to hold that of his twin tightly in his grip. His other hand found a fistful of Elrohir's hair and clutched it desperately. Erestor helplessly looked between them and Glorfindel, not sure of what to do.

Glorfindel stood, his expression unreadable. If possible, he was even paler than before. He abruptly turned and walked away, freezing after only a few paces. He stayed there, frozen and shaking, his back to Erestor and the twins.

Erestor turned back to find Elladan patting his twin's face and moaning.. "Ro... Ro... Ro... Get up, gwanur-nin... Elrohir... tithen gwador..." His words dissolved into a voiceless whine.

Feeling Erestor kneeling in the grass beside him and stroking his hair, he abruptly turned away from the body of his twin and buried his face in Erestor's robes, keening Elrohir's name aloud, completely unaware of the older elf's own inner turmoil.

Erestor, for his part, had no idea how to proceed.

He had seen death before. But always in battle. Elves, as a rule, did not die sudden and unexpected deaths. Elves, as a rule, did not die before they managed to reach 15 years of age. Elves, as a rule, did not die on perfectly peaceful days in hidden and protected refuges. And, as a rule, the elves he had seen die had not been the children of his Lord whom had been placed under his own care. His hands shook as they absently stroked Elladan's back and ran trembling fingers through his hair.

He stared blankly ahead. What would he tell Elrond when he returned? What would he tell Celebrían? What would he tell Celeborn and Galadriel? How had this even occurred? The twins had been in their room. Unattended. True, they spent many hours reading in their room unattended, and no one had ever anticipated it being a problem before, but... Elrohir must have been sitting on the windowsill and lost his balance. Leave it to Elrohir to lose his balance and fall out a window, of all things.

Glorfindel, who since freezing in his retreat had become as still and gray as a statue, moved again, startling Erestor out of his reverie. He quickly stepped towards Erestor once more, kneeling and taking the still body of Elorhir into his arms, standing again. He glanced at Erestor and the child weeping in his arms, his expression stony and face white. "Take him away from here. Not back to their room. Put him to bed. I will find you later." The golden warrior stalked off.

Mentally numb, Erestor stood and followed the instructions without question. Eventually, he laid Elladan in Elrond and Celebrían's bed, where he cried himself to exhaustion but still did not sleep. When Glorfindel finally found them later, Elladan was laying in the bed, staring at the far wall sightlessly, his breaths weak and ragged. Erestor was still running his trembling hands through the child's dark and knotted hair.

Elladan tipped his head over slowly as Glorfindel approached the bed, his eyes unfocused. It took some moments before recognition sparked in them. "Where is-" his voice was hoarse, and Glorfindel interrupted him.

"Drink this." The golden warrior spoke firmly, handing the elfling a small cup. Elladan stared at it blankly for long moments, uncomprehendingly, until Glorfindel tipped it upwards to his mouth. He swallowed automatically before lowering the cup, staring at it blankly once more. Glorfindel took it from him.

"What did you do?" Erestor asked cautiously, glancing over at the still pale warrior. He had never seen Glorfindel this shaken before. He realized belatedly that he probably looked just as bad, if not worse.

Glorfindel glanced at Erestor expressionlessly. "I gave him something to make him sleep without dreams. He needs to rest, but he will not find any peace in his dreams right now."

Erestor nodded, accepting this. Even as they watched, Elladan's eyes slid shut and he finally fell asleep, his breathing softening even further.

Glorfindel found a chair on the opposite side of the bed and sat in it, seeming to suddenly collapse in on himself, becoming much smaller than Erestor had ever seen him. Now that all of his pressing tasks were done, his overpowering presence was all but gone. Even now he still trembled and his eyes held a faraway and haunted look.

"What will we do?" Erestor asked suddenly, weakly. He regretted it when Glorfindel raised his eyes to meet his. Erestor couldn't name what he saw in the ancient elf's eyes, but it unnerved him deeply. The unshakable elf Erestor had always known Glorfindel was unrecognizable. Instead, Erestor found himself looking into the eyes of one so weighed down by their grief that it sent a tremor through him. Those were the eyes of one who had given up, and if Erestor didn't know better, he would say Glorfindel himself had given in to his grief and begun to fade.

"I do not know."

Erestor finally broke his gaze and instead stared at the far wall, before letting it fall again to the small figure resting in the bed. It was unnerving, to see only one of them. Only twelve, the twins refused to sleep apart from each other, and were likewise rarely separated in waking. How strange to think that now he would only ever see the one.

"Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían will return within the month." He spoke again, quietly. "What will we tell them?" He was thinking to himself, almost having forgotten that Glorfindel was still in the room with him. As such, he nearly jumped when the other elf answered him,

"I do not know." Came Glorfindel's broken whisper.

Erestor snapped his head up and was alarmed to find Glorfindel trembling, with his face buried in his hands. This was not natural. Erestor did not know what to do.

"Elladan will fade without his twin." Glorfindel announced suddenly from the other side of the room. "He will not overcome this. It is unlikely even that he will be able to last until Elrond and Celebrían return. He is beyond his father's help now."

Erestor worked his mouth open and shut a few times, but no sound came out. He snapped it shut and took a steadying breath, straightening his back. "And what of you?" He asked, regarding the normally charismatic warrior's sorry state.

Glorfindel paused at the question, thinking first. "I have failed Elrohir, I have failed Elladan, and I have failed my Lord and friend. However, they are not yet beyond my help." With that he stood, casting a glance at the bed, and hurrying out of the room with a fey gleam in his eyes that left Erestor feeling deeply unsettled. He prepared to follow, but in that moment, Elladan tightened his grip on the elder elf's hand, prompting him to stay.

Bear with me here. There is no humor until about four chapters in. None. At all.

Seriously. It gets dark before it gets funny.

-Dan