Title: LEARNING
Author: Sadie Sill
Beta: Puxinette
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Rating: T
Time line:Around 2515 Third Age.
Disclaimer: I didn't create any of these wonderful characters. I've just borrowed them from the Professor, devoting them all my love. Now I feel they are also a little bit mine, but I am sure the good Professor won't mind sharing them with me.
My own characters in this story are: Lady Idhrenniel (a female healer de Imladris), Angahor, Arnamo, Séretur, Cúndur, Earon, Varyar, Laston, Túro e Hérion (friends of the twins), Celboril and Aeron (the cook and his assistant), Beinion and Locien (guards) and others who eventually appeared here and there.
Vocabulary:
Ion – son
Ada – dad (familiar/informal)
-nîn – my
Children are our souls
Blowing flowers;
Children, fallen stars
In the world of our pains!
Florbela Espanca
Elrond was resting for the first time after many long days of work and worry. Whenever patrols arrived with up-to-date news and maps, he set out to analyze that material with the greed of a hungry dog. He could not help it. Peace still reverberated the echoes of its song through the distant and nearby woods, but in the pauses between verses, the Elf Lord no longer perceived the silence that should be present. On the contrary, an off-key tone seemed to divert in the distance, an old tone, a known one.
He had always known that evil was watching his people, even after some important events, some great promises. He knew that even if there were many people, and the enemy had suffered a great loss as he had suffered, there was still something to fear, something to be careful of. That's why he kept his guard up, so his eyes always turned to the horizon.
The moment when his mind needed rest the most, since it was still filled with the doubts and certainties of the day, would not be the most conducive time for the door of his room to open slowly without warning. It was unusual for anyone to look for him after he retired to sleep, much more unusual was someone passing through the antechamber of his room and entering through the bedroom door without announcing himself first.
Luckily for his unexpected visitor, the Lord of Imladris decided to give whomever it was the benefit of the doubt. The sword propped beside his bed, however, did receive a brief glance.
To intrigue him even more, the little lamp beside the doorway suddenly threw light on his son's worried face. The young elf put his head into the room, his eyes searching everywhere, but he did not seem to notice that his father was awake. He was about to retreat into the darkness of the adjoining room once more when Elrond called out to him.
"Elrohir? Is that you, ion nîn? What's happened?"
The twin gave a little start, but then opened the door a bit more, his body visible in the dim light of the room. He was in a light blue robe which neatly covered his white pajamas.
"Sorry for intruding, Ada. I did not mean to wake you. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep, please."
Elrond rose up on one elbow. "I had not fallen asleep yet, child. You're not bothering me at all. What are you looking for? You rarely enter my room; I'm sure you did not leave any of your belongings in here."
Elrohir glanced again at the furniture in the room. He did not really come in here as often as he had when his mother still lived in the house. Celebrían liked to embroider sitting on the balcony here, and when she saw him walking on the main path below her, she used to invite him to keep her company, even though she knew that her son's patience would keep him quiet beside her for a lot less time than she would like him to stay.
Elrohir sighed then, missing a time he never imagined he would miss at all. He wished he would have been more patient, wished he had stayed with her more often. He longed to have that opportunity once more. He would do anything if he could turn back time. But he knew that certain images, even eternalized in the most beautiful drawings, were prisoners of a remote and unreachable past.
"Elrohir?" Elrond said as he sat up, rescuing him from those bittersweet memories.
The twin was startled out of his reverie, looking at his father. "Excuse me, Ada. Do not get up. I'll leave."
"I do not wish you to apologize, child." Elrond raised his right hand to his son, throwing the covers aside to rise. "I just want to know what's bothering you, because I can see that your heart is afflicted."
"I am not afflicted," Elrohir said, stepping forward in his defense, an evident displeasure on his face for taking his father from his bed, knowing he was so many days without rest. "Please do not get up, Ada. I'm just looking for Elladan. I thought I'd find him here. But thinking that was utter nonsense. Only I would be stupid enough to disturb your sleep. Elladan would never commit such a blunder."
Elrond raised his eyebrows at those words, but it was not clear to Elrohir if his father had noticed his small jest or his intention. The Lord Elf approached him, taking hold of Elrohir's arm affectionately.
"I thought about visiting briefly with you and your brother before going to bed, but I decided that you were more than likely asleep. My heart rejoices to see you, ion nîn," he said with a smile, receiving another one in reply. But when Elrohir let out a restrained sigh, Elrond only squeezed the arm he held. "Tell me, child. Why are you looking for your brother?"
"No reason..." Elrohir shifted, his eyes already wandering around his father's room again. However, his intention now seemed to be only avoiding the subject he had inadvertently raised. He would soon realize how fruitless his attempt would be, feeling his father's eyes still fixed on him. "When I went to bed he had done the same, but it seems he could not stay in bed like me. I woke up and he was not there."
Elrond frowned. "It was only a few hours ago. Neither you nor your brother have been in your beds long enough even for an Elvish sleep," he commented, stretching his arm as he reached to increase the glow of the lamp on the wall. The subject the Lord Elf wished to discuss came clear then when the younger twin's pale face appeared in the light. "We did not have time to talk about your patrol in particular, boy. You were the ones who went the furthest away, bringing us the best maps and the most important information. But I feel that not everything that happened to you is in the reports I read."
Elrohir closed his eyes, shaking his head. "My tiredness is only the result of the hard work we have all had. The other soldiers did not arrive in a very different state from mine. Not even those of the other patrols. This time of year is one of the most difficult, and our trusted paths do not seem so safe anymore."
"You all arrived eight days ago, as far as I know," Elrond recalled. "I met some of our elves on my visit to the stable this morning. Angahor and Ilfirion, your patrol colleagues, were already there, ready to cover the shift of some border guards as they waited for your group's next assignment.
Elrohir twisted his lips. "They are not responsible for writing detailed and endless reports like their captains," muttered the twin in an impersonation his father knew very well. "Now that everything is done, "I can cover whichever sentinel's shift you want me to, until the end of our stay here. In fact, I'm a little tired of being idle."
Elrond tipped his head, looking at his son out of the corners of his eyes.
"Your words are far from reality, Elrohir. Try not to go too far to the point of not being able to return."
"What do you mean?" the twin asked with a grimace of incomprehension.
"I received your report the morning after your patrol's arrival," Elrond clarified in his usual patient tone, and this time he tried not to laugh as he watched his son close his eyes and frown as he realized he'd been caught in a lie. "As always you were the quickest with your information. Should I add that two-handed writing makes it a lot faster working on reports?" he said without pity, and when the twin dropped his arms, already pulling away, Elrond took hold of his arm again. There was, however, a smile of peace on his paternal face. "What were you doing in the city while your brother put down on paper what was yours to write?" he asked affectionately. He had no intention of taking his son's embarrassment to the point where their conversation went from pleasant to strained. "Tell me, my captain, can you not get away from the training grounds even in moments of rest, as you should after you return with your patrol? The experiences you have been facing in your expeditions are not enough to keep you in shape?"
Elrohir twisted his lips again, the little humor gone from his face. He rubbed the back of his neck then without much enthusiasm. "You know how much I like writing those reports. We lose time and patience since we have to repeat everything in the interrogation that Glorfindel puts us through once he finds one of us. I had a deal with Dan to share the problem. I would face the interrogation and he would endure the torment of writing it all," he clarified, feeling a light relief at seeing his father's smile at the slight provocation. "I had asked him not to hurry. I knew there were already many papers on your desk. But you know Dan, give him an obligation or ask him a favor, and the miserable one will not rest until he sees it done."
Elrond was silent for a moment, analyzing that information. "Yes. I know my two sons well," he said at last. "And what I realize is that both seem to act as if obligations to be done were always waiting for them, and they seem to think that that makes resting something completely optional and unnecessary."
"Not really!" Elrohir raised his palm again in his best disguise of dissatisfaction. "I was in my room looking for my deserved sleep. And I'd still be in it if my brother had not left, making me get up and look for him all over the house."
Elrond frowned again, puzzled now by something his son had inadvertently let slip. "Have you looked for him all over the house?"
Elrohir parted his lips and tried to hide his shock. "Of course not," he said, trying to defend himself again. "That was just a form of expression. I merely went to the library, which is the most likely place he could be at this time of night. Since I did not find him there, I went to your office, but I did not find him there either, so I finally thought that I would find him with you. Your room is the last place with books in the house, after those mentioned before, of course, where Elladan would likely be.
Elrond followed his son's explanation, waiting for him to finish it to ask the question that was on his mind. "What specific information is your brother looking for, ion?"
This time Elrohir dropped his shoulders. Talking with his father was always like this. As much as he tried to get away from a subject, if that was what Elrond wanted to discuss, he would bring him back to it almost without Elrohir being aware of it.
"Why don't you tell me what's troubling you, child?" Elrond's voice sounded closer then, and it was only when he felt his father's arm around him that he realized he had closed his eyes.
Elrohir dropped his head on his father's shoulder. "It's nothing. I'm just tired. You know I get impatient and angry when I'm tired. You're right. I have to sleep. It was a tiring journey..." he finished in a whisper.
Elrond stroked his son's arm in the hug he offered. "As were the other journeys you've taken..." he added.
"We went far away..." Elrohir said, shying away from his father's trap.
Elrond smiled peacefully, sighing at the insistent protection to which his son clung. "I met a boy once who went further," he risked saying, and when the young elf looked up straight into his eyes, he did not hesitate to return to an often-avoided subject. "Alone..."
This time the twin's reaction was as expected. Elrohir turned away, taking the path toward the door as he had always done in any situation in which that past experience, intentionally or accidentally, appeared.
"I need to ask a question of the sentry at the front door," he said, taking his casual tone again. "If that unfortunate elf went to the greenhouse at this time of the night I'll bring him back by the ear."
Elrond, however, did not react to that new plan as the twin had hoped.
"Wait a minute," Elrond said, finally abandoning the patient tone he'd been using. The accumulation of disjointed information was starting to make him uneasy. "The greenhouse? At this time of the night? Why would you think Elladan left his bed for this, Elrohir?" he asked, and the firmness of his questioning made the twin stop before the door, his hand on the knob. Elrond approached, but did not touch him again.
"I do not know if he's there. I just want to ask..." Elrohir said without turning.
"That was not my question, Elrohir." Elrond was a bit firmer then.
Elrohir took a deep breath and exhaled as if he needed to expel some demon, even though he knew it would not help. "We had many setbacks..." he finally said in surrender. "We were surprised by two groups of orcs in a row. They were short skirmishes, concluded quickly. Atarael was wounded. We thought we would lose him. Others of us were also injured. Luckily, we came across an adan village where Elladan found some comfort for the wounded ones."
Elrond took hold of his son's shoulders, turning him so that they faced each other. Elrohir leaned against the door, looking away to avoid the confrontation. He was dealing with a delicate subject, about which he had no desire to talk.
"Elladan mentioned Atarael's wound in his report, but he did not relate the gravity of it," Elrond said, trying not to let the conversation die. "I did not receive a report from Idhrenniel, which makes me assume that the wounded ones did not enter the Healing Wing when they arrived."
Elrohir shrugged. "They probably did not. They were all recovered by the time we got back. Dan certainly did not report the seriousness of Atarael's wounds because he never acts as if anything is serious. He's always saying that everything is under control, no matter how gloomy the situation may seem. We believe him because everything ends up well in the end."
Elrond offered a sad smile. "From what I see everything turned out very well for your elves. Or am I mistaken?" he asked.
"Yes, it did..." Elrohir looked down at his now entwined hands. "Everything ended well. Like Dan said it would."
Elrond took a deep breath, but this time that sound replaced the question that would follow, making Elrohir walk away again, stumbling around the room as if searching for what to say. Elrond turned, but did not accompany him.
"Atarael has had some bad times," Elrohir finally said, standing in front of one of his father's bookshelves and looking at the titles as if to distract himself from what he was saying. "His wounds were infected. Elladan spent days and nights beside him until the color returned to his face... And it did return. It was an incredible recovery. We were surprised and extremely happy."
Elrond continued to stand where he was, analyzing his son's brief report in each detail, hoping to find what bothered him in it. Soon Elrohir's eyes were on him again.
"It's late, Ada. May I go now? I'm tired. I just want to know where that annoying elf is and then I'll go to sleep. I'll probably find him rereading one of those horrible books about healing for the umpteenth time. He really has a steel stomach. That must be why he left the room, he must be tired of my complaints when I see him looking at those disgusting pictures."
Elrond let out a weak laugh that shook his shoulders slightly, then nodded. Elrohir smiled too and was already moving away, when he was surprised by a final question not yet asked in their conversation. He had grasped the knob again when he heard his father ask:
"What specific information is your brother looking for, ion?"
This time Elrohir leaned his head hard against the closed door, dropping his shoulders with a heavy sigh that seemed more like a lament.
"Why don't you ask him?" The naughty response escaped him abruptly, but luckily, as he turned with an apologetic glance, he noticed that his father seemed not at all offended by what he had heard. He was putting on one of his robes over his pajamas. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to take your advice," Elrond said in the same tone, passing his son and opening the bedroom door.
"Wait, please." Elrohir hurried to stand in front of his father before he crossed the antechamber and made it to the hall. "I do not know where he is."
"Then let's go look for him together," Elrond said, moving to get past his son, but was surprised when Elrohir stepped in front of him again. Only then did the twin receive a stern look from his father. "I hope you are now willing to share with me the information I have wanted since you entered my room, Elrohir."
The twin lowered his head. "I'm worried about him."
Elrond pressed his lips together. "You are worried about your brother?" he asked, receiving only a nod as an answer, and that did not please him at all. Elrohir was the most eloquent of his twin sons, and silence used to be his defense mechanism only if the situation was too delicate. "Elrohir!" he insisted in a firm voice.
He had no choice but to make use of his father's weapons.
"Elladan is upset... He did not tell me anything, but I think he's... I've been trying to talk to him about it, but he's dodging with his usual excuses," Elrohir replied with hesitant displeasure.
"What do you think is bothering your brother?" he asked, and when Elrohir tipped his head impatiently to the side, as if wishing to disappear instead of being made to stand there, Elrond took him by the arm again. "Do you realize that I cannot be of great help if you do not share with me what afflicts you, boy?"
"I know, Ada."
"So?"
Elrohir moved away, walking slowly toward the main door and turning the key. That single act intrigued Elrond, but he decided to wait, watching his son walk away and lean against one of the tables in the hall.
"We had visited some adan villages before, you know. Elves have a good reputation and we are welcome even in places we have never been."
"Yes. That's good," Elrond said, just to show that he was following the explanation. "Did they treat you differently in this place where you took shelter?"
"No... They treated us like we are treated everywhere."
"Continue."
"There was this old man... He was one of the elders of the village. He... watched Elladan work for a long time... I thought it was just curiosity. Some edain seem to never get used to our presence..."
Elrond finally took a few steps, approaching. "Yet it was not simple curiosity," he concluded.
Elrohir cocked his head to one side, raising his shoulders slightly. "Yes and no... He was not interested in us, but in what Elladan was doing."
Elrond frowned, worried now. "What do you mean?"
"There was no evil intention on his part," Elrohir hastened to say to show that his father's concern was unnecessary. "He was an old man who spends his days taking care of a small garden and the injured or sick of the village. He wanted Elladan to teach him the medicine mixtures he used."
Elrond raised his eyebrows. "Only that?"
"Yes. He watched him in the distance because he was afraid of somehow disrupting Elladan's work."
"And did he get close at any point?"
"No... But I noticed him and one day I asked Elladan if he had sensed his presence. The afternoon of that day I took the group to hunt and when I returned the man had already drawn closer. I think Elladan took the initiative."
Elrond smiled sadly. "If I know your brother well, he appreciated the exchange of information."
Elrohir also smiled, his eyes locked on an image of the past that seemed to please him. "It was what he wanted from the beginning, was not it? Ever since we started patrolling. Teach and learn. It was what he kept repeating. The man spent hours with him at Atarael's side and then another long time showing him the herbs he had in the village and listening to Elladan explain about other functions that such plants would have.
"It was a positive experience then?"
"Of course! The man was stunned. He even brought his sons to listen to the explanations since none of them could write so that they could chronicle so much information. Dan taught one of them how to record the names of the herbs in each container to remember each one of them and its effects. He created a code for each medicine and it looked like it worked."
Elrond nodded at every sentence he heard now, but his eyes had a glow of concern. Elrohir knew that, despite the beautiful story, his father was waiting for an unpleasant end to it.
"What misfortune came to stain such a beautiful exchange, Elrohir?" Elrond said, finally expressing what disturbed him, filling the silence of the unfinished story.
Elrohir winced, quite uneasy now. "It's nothing serious. I guess that's why he did not say anything to you."
Elrond again limited his response to a mere nod, not as patient as he had been.
Elrohir cleared his throat. "Elladan's information brought a surprising benefit to that village..." he said, placing his fingertips on a book on the table on which he leaned. He picked it up then, looking at its cover in silence. It was about wounds, shallow or deep. "They had been attacked by an orc group a few weeks ago, and they thought they would not be able to save the remaining wounded. Those who waited for death. Our medicines were like a blessing to them, and they recovered one by one. Even Elladan was surprised to see that some herbs produced very similar effects in the edain as they did in elves," he completed, looking at the book's cover with an air of revulsion that he did not even try to disguise.
Elrond went to him, gently taking the book from his son's hands, so that Elrohir would look at him again.
"Did your brother not feel good about helping these people?" he asked, when he found himself reflected in his son's gray eyes.
Elrohir shook his head again. "Elladan is never satisfied with anything he does, Ada. You know that better than I do. He takes everything he does very seriously. If he were telling this story to you perhaps we could see some joy in him, but only because he would be sharing this experience with you, and we both know how much he likes to talk about terrible matters with someone who does not think they are so terrible. And by that I mean you."
This time Elrond did not bother to pretend he liked the joke. He took hold of his son's arm once more. "No further evasions, Elrohir, please. Tell me what's happening with your brother, because your story is not helping me figure it out for myself."
Elrohir returned his father's gaze, his mask of irony finally cast aside. He exhaled slowly, his mouth forming a thin line before he continued. "Elladan followed the healing process from afar, because he did not want to get involved, receiving credit that he said he did not deserve. But people knew that he was responsible for the turn in the fortunes of those thought to be mortally wounded, even though he shied away from thanks as is his character."
Elrond nodded in agreement. He understood Elladan's feeling better than Elrohir would expect.
"And then?"
"Then... Someone mentioned an old woman... I do not know what she had, but it was very serious and nothing Elladan had taught the man had done anything to make her feel better. Elladan continued to discuss other alternatives until he did something I had not seen him do before. He went there himself."
Elrond frowned. "And then?"
"I do not know... He'd been going to see this woman for about a week; I cannot even remember if it had been more than seven days... I guess so. Sometimes he would not even come back at dusk, sending me only scraps of information," he said, trying to sound casual, but then his eyes were sad. He lifted them to his father then. "In the late afternoon of one day, however, he came back as if he were coming back from a war... from a lost war."
Elrond let out a brief sigh. "Did the woman pass away?"
"No... but her condition did not reverse. They said she has been suffering for a long time. It was an illness that causes terrible wounds on the limbs. She had them on her face now, and she could hardly feed herself... And we had already stayed too long... We had to leave..."
Elrohir rubbed his eyes with both hands. When Elrond touched his arm again, he realized his face was revealing how bothered he was by the story he was telling. "I tried to console him, Ada. But he did not seem too eager to talk about it. He agreed it was time for our departure with his conciliatory way of being that sometimes makes me nervous. I wanted him to say what he was feeling, what I could do to help him, but all I heard from him was that we had tried everything – exactly as I said, in the plural, as if I had done something other than wait for him. He said it as if this certainty eased his conscience and gave him some peace. But he was silent all the way home, as if only his body was coming back, but his mind was still there, trying to heal that woman."
Elrond continued looking at his son, even after the end of the sad tale. That was bothering the already rather annoyed twin.
"Why do I feel that you're going to scold me for something?"
"Maybe because I should," Elrond said, returning to his patient tone.
Elrohir frowned. "Why? Do you think I should have told you before now? Dan said he was all right."
"If you believed what your brother told you, we would not be here having this conversation," Elrond said, choosing his words carefully. He held his son by the shoulders as Elrohir looked around impatiently. He seemed so nervous now that even looking at his father was hard. "Reports are not mere formality, Elrohir. Remember that you write them for me so that I will know what has happened to you while you've been on patrol. Have you ever wondered if all my captains select what they reveal to me and what they do not reveal to me in their reports? What kind of leader would I be if I allowed that? I need to know my soldiers and what happens to them, good and bad. I need to count on each one as I would a member of my family. For this I need them to trust me."
Elrohir looked uncomfortably at his father now. "They do trust you," he said vehemently.
"Yes. I know they do. But what about my own children?"
"Elbereth, Ada. We more than all others."
"You do not trust me the way I need you to trust me."
"What do you mean? How can that be? We just do not want to bother you with details, with unimportant things. We know how much you are responsible for every single day."
"This decision is not yours, child," Elrond said firmly. "I do not want to be spared from anything. I do not want the word "spare" to ever be associated with my name, do you understand?"
Elrohir paled with the intensity of what he heard, and that unusual reaction prodded Elrond to draw him closer. The Lord Elf embraced him for a moment, then pulled back to look into his eyes.
"Say you understand what I'm telling you. Your brother is a healer, but you're a captain, Elrohir. It is mainly from you that I expect this understanding."
Elrohir felt his chin soften, but then he clenched his teeth. "I understand, Ada."
Elrond sighed, not appearing pleased.
"Forgive me," the twin added.
"What are you apologizing for?"
"For..." Elrohir grimaced as he searched for that information, but at last his lips parted. "For not having written the report that was mine to write."
Elrond smiled, nodding. "With all the information a report should have."
"Yes, sir. With all the information a report should have. I promise not to make that mistake again." Elrohir repeated, with a weary sigh. "Forgive me, Ada."
Elrond covered his son's left cheek with his palm. "You are forgiven. Now, how about we try to find your brother?"
Elrohir took a deep breath, worried. "You won't reprimand him, will you?"
Elrond raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps. If there is need for it," he said, lowering his hand to the young elf's shoulder. "You must trust me as a father too, child."
"If he's in the greenhouse I'm going to have to change to go out there," Elrohir commented, closing his robe against the chill of the staircase he was descending.
Elrond shook his head, not really looking as if he was aware of the cold or his son's words. His puzzled eyes searched the main hall. He did not believe that his eldest son had really left the house.
When they were almost at the door, they received an equally perplexed look from the elf posted there. Elrohir was glad to see that the shift that night was not Beinion's, for whom he had no great affection. The sentry, who looked at them curiously, was called Locien, and rarely occupied that position, preferring to guard the stable. The difficult weather might have made him change his mind and agree to give Beinion some free time that night.
"Are you intending to go out?" The disbelief in the tone of Locien's question made Elrohir confirm his theory of the quality of the weather outside that door. Even so, the guard's hand was already grasping the doorknob.
"I hope not," Elrohir said to himself. "Have you seen Elladan, Locien? Has he left the house?"
"I do not believe so. Despite the magnificent sky that graces us tonight, it is very cold even to visit the garden."
"You have not seen him then?" Elrond asked.
Locien shook his head. "I've been here since late afternoon. Lord Elladan has not passed me. Do you want me to look for him, my lord?"
"No, my friend, But I am grateful for your offer," Elrond replied, already moving his eyes around the house. A few steps away, Aeron, one of the kitchen helpers, was heading for an adjacent wing when he realized he was being watched. He approached them with a courteous smile.
"Good evening, my lords."
"Good evening, Aeron," Elrond and Elrohir responded in unison. The Elf Lord's eyes had already returned to his quest, but Elrohir decided to ask, "Aeron, have you seen my brother?"
To the surprise of father and son, the young elf nodded. "He is in the kitchen. I just left him there."
"In the kitchen?" Elrohir said, unable to hold back his surprise. Surprise which Elrond demonstrated by a simple arch of eyebrows.
"Yes. He had some books to read..."
"In the kitchen?" Elrohir still did not look as if he could believe it.
"Yes, my lord, but it seems he was interested in a glass of wine as well. He said he'd be occupied for a few hours."
"Occupied in the kitchen... As if there were no other rooms in the house..." Elrohir was already headed there, shaking his head uncomfortably. In fact, he had not included that room in his previous search.
"Master Celboril offered him the kitchen table, but I think it was just one of his jokes," Aeron tried to clarify. "It was a surprise to us when Lord Elladan accepted the invitation. I think he was just looking for a quiet place wherever he could find it, since he could not go back to the library, where it is not advisable to drink anything among the books and parchments..."
"Of course. There are no other quiet places in the house where you can read and drink whatever you want..." Elrohir said sarcastically, turning toward the kitchen door.
Aeron glanced alternately at the path the twin had taken and at the elven lord who had not yet moved. The kitchen assistant worried a little, not understanding the reason for the discomfort he felt. He looked at Elrond then, judging that his lord was waiting for more information, so he continued his explanation. "He looks tired, sir. He probably searched for a drink to distract him as he tried to finish his studies. I served him a single glass and he dismissed me, thanking me and saying that it was enough for him. I left the bottle anyway."
Elrond just nodded, his eyes locked in the same direction his son had taken. Aeron and Locien exchanged a worried glance then, and the guard just shrugged to show the other elf how much he did not understand the situation either.
Elrond finally gave them his attention, looking at both elves with a courteous smile. "Thank you, my friends," he said, placing his hand on his chest before leaving them.
The boys mirrored the gesture, but remained in the same position as the Elf Lord moved away. If Elrond detected the discomfort of the two elves, they failed to notice, as very little about their leader was clear to them. Perhaps for this reason the admiration of the Imladris people for their regent had never weakened.
When Elrond entered the kitchen, he found both his sons sitting at the large wooden table that Celboril used to do his daily tasks. The furniture was not really a dining table, it looking more like a workbench, but neither Elladan, still focused on his books, nor Elrohir, who had taken his brother's wineglass for himself, seemed to mind using it to have an informal conversation.
"You could have stayed in the antechamber of our room. You would not have woken me," he heard Elrohir complaining as soon as he entered.
"There is not enough light there..." Elladan said without raising his eyes as he flipped through the book he held in his hands faster than he usually did.
"You could have just lit another lamp," Elrohir said as he raised his eyebrows to attest to the obvious.
"There is not enough space..." Elladan kept his eyes focused on the pages he was slowly riffling through.
"Of course there is, unless you want to read the whole library in there. A large part of it, in fact, is already there. One day, Erestor will come get those books himself."
Elladan lifted the corners of his lips in a kind smile, but then he noticed someone else's presence there and his smile widened.
"Hello, Ada!"
Elrond just smiled, approaching the table and resting his hands on the back of one of the chairs. It did not take long until the eldest son frowned and asked, "Why are you here? Did something happen?"
Elrond continued to smile, but moved his chin slightly toward the younger twin. It took Elladan a few seconds to understand, but when he did, he turned in surprise to his brother.
"Elrohir?"
The twin raised both hands. "I've been looking for you in all the dusty, stuffy places in this house," he said, ignoring the disapproving shake of his father's head at the joke. "Only Ada's room remained."
"I cannot believe it..."
"It's me who cannot believe you were here all the time. How should I have guessed?"
"But why did you care where I was, Ro? Why did you need to meet me so urgently? The worst of it was that you took Ada from his bed. Do not tell me you woke him up..."
Elrohir twisted his lips, leaving that question in the air as it was his habit to do. He drank the rest of the wine in the glass and picked up the bottle left on the table to refill it again.
Elladan dropped his hands onto the book he'd been looking at, but finally he smiled, looking at his father affectionately. "I apologize, Ada. I did not mean to worry any of you. It did not even occur to me that Elrohir would wake up, tired as he was, and who would ever think that he would look for me in a place as devoid of danger as our house?"
Elrohir only clicked his tongue in response, but said nothing.
Elrond looked at the youngest son, feeling his silence, so well disguised behind his usual tricky mask. The way he held his glass tightly in both hands said much more. Elrond stepped forward and picked up two more glasses among the many hanging on the rack and returned, sitting down in front of his sons.
Elrohir knew how to be a good host, dividing the rest of the bottle between the new glasses, and then rising in search of a new one. Elrond watched him walk cautiously down the cellar steps, remembering how subtle and thoughtful his two sons were when they wanted to be. He turned back to Elladan, hoping to make good use of the time Elrohir had offered him to talk to his eldest son.
"You know these books by heart, child," he said. "I risk to say that once lying in your bed, if you wish, you can imagine them page by page without any effort."
Elladan let out a short laugh, picking up the glass his brother had served him and only wetting his lips. Drinking a bottle of wine did not seem to have been his intention when he came to occupy the most improbable room in the house.
Elrond reached out and guided his son's hand toward the table to force him to set his cup down. Elladan looked at him, intrigued.
"I walked a difficult path trying to decipher the half words of your brother to finally reach this point, ion nîn. I did this because I know Elrohir's moods, and I know that, unfortunately, he keeps his pains and difficulties in the most dangerous and complicated abysses. Elrohir is a landscape of peaks and cliffs. But you aren't, my child. You're my crystal-clear beach."
Elladan's lips parted, still frowning as he tried to find comprehension in his father's beautiful metaphor.
Elrond looked at him tenderly, sliding his thumb into the hand he was still holding. "Open your heart to your father and show me which dark corners have robbed your sleep this night, and I will give you the light I have, hoping it will be enough."
Elladan parted his lips, surprised then, but the meaning of the phrase he had heard at last struck him like the point of a sword. "Your light is so big," he said quickly, his eyes already bright. "There are no dark corners in my heart. It is filled with the love I feel and the love I receive."
Elrond smiled, rising and moving around the table to sit next to his son. Elladan held his breath and shuddered at the closeness, even if he did not want to. He was, in fact, captivated by complicated thoughts that made him unprepared for this conversation, so when Elrond wrapped his shoulders with his left arm, he instinctively stiffened.
Elrond was not intimidated, only drawing him closer. "I know of your battles, ion," he said kindly. "Some much harder than I would have imagined or wished they were."
Elladan exhaled, and his body began to relax in his father's arms.
"I fight them with passion, Ada," he assured him. "Every day is a different learning experience. Sometimes the process of learning what is necessary is painful, but I would not exchange any of those opportunities for a sense of security that is often provided only by ignorance."
Elrond offered a sad smile.
"I like to see you seek the truth and face it directly as you always have."
Elladan let out a weary sigh. "I hope I do not disappoint you," he said quietly.
"The stars could all fall from the sky and our world become a dark and sad place, and even so I would not believe that was possible."
Elladan shook his head, lifting the tips of his fingers to press his eyes, then he rubbed his face, leaving it covered with both hands.
"I hope so, Ada," he said, and his sad tone behind his palms now made Elrond realize that he had managed to break through a barrier. "I try to make good use of what you have taught me. I hope no information escapes me at a crucial time."
Elrond pondered what he heard and felt in silence. Then he took his son's hands and held them.
"Is that your fear?" he asked when the young elf had the courage to face him. "That you have failed because some information was not within your reach, ion nîn?"
Elladan paled, and to Elrond it was clear that the young elf's whole struggle, reviewing what he already knew day after day, was in facing that crucial question. Worse than that was realizing that Elladan did not feel ready to answer it, not even after all the time and energy he had thus far used.
When Elladan looked away, freeing himself from his father's gaze, Elrond knew that for sure. He watched his son's trembling hands, now busy closing the books he had opened. That attitude made him think that the young elf would use them as a pretext to get up, with the excuse of returning the copies to their place of origin, but he soon remembered which son this was. Outside the arenas of fighting, Elrohir was the exact opposite of the implacable warrior who never ran away from a quarrel. Elladan was always the same, with or without a sword in his hand. He never fled from a conflict.
"I know Elrohir told you what happened, Ada," Elladan said, proving Elrond's previous theory, and doing exactly what his father expected him to do. He rested his palm on the stack of books he had closed. "Please answer this question for me, if you may, and help me get away from the threat of this dark enemy called doubt."
Elrond continued to contemplate his son sitting beside him. Despite the brave front he had seen on Elladan's face, he still did not have the attention he needed.
"Yes," he simply said.
And then he received it. This time Elladan fixed his eyes on him, his brow furrowed, as he tried to decipher the meaning of that solitary word.
"Yes? It is your answer... to what question, Ada?"
"Yes is the answer to the question I mentioned," Elrond clarified, looking at his pale son with a directness that only he seemed to possess. "Do you remember what I asked you? If you think you failed because some information was not within your reach?"
That answer was enough for the young elf's few certainties to collapse like a house of cards. His chin softened, his lips parted and he was not sure what to do. He then looked around, grabbed one of the books in front of him and rested his hand on the cover of the other. At last his eyes roamed around the kitchen.
To his father, Elladan had never seemed so lost as at that moment. Elrond took pity on him and embraced his son, who stiffened again. His lips were still parted as if he needed air. Elrond knew what Elladan wanted to ask him, and he knew better why he had no courage now to ask it. There was now conflict, a conflict sown by his father, but a necessary conflict.
Elrond held him more firmly then, even knowing that comfort was not exactly what Elladan wanted to receive right now. The young elf was too tense and confused; he wanted an answer to a question he was not brave enough to ask, and his father's attitude was not helping him to feel better. "You seek a fault that is not yours, my dear child," he whispered in his son's ear.
Elladan closed his eyes and trembled. He shook his head slowly, as if he did not even have the energy for that.
"I do not understand, Ada... You..."
"The fault you seek is mine."
This time Elladan could not disguise his surprise, and his eyes followed his father in confusion when, without warning, he suddenly let go of him and stood, walking to the door of the stairs the younger twin had just gone down.
"Elrohir," he called, and then the figure of his son appeared, in the dimness of the room below, holding a lamp. "Let's go upstairs, child. Bring that bottle of wine with you," he completed, walking back to the table and picking up his still-full glass.
When Elrohir reached the last step, he found his father at the door, instructing his eldest son to stand and follow him. "Bring your glass, Elladan," he said, turning his back on his two sons. "But leave the books. Aeron or Celboril will know where to return them tomorrow. Bring your glass too, Elrohir."
Elrohir sent a confused glance at his brother and was startled by what he saw on Elladan's face. He thought of inquiring, but his father's quick movement made him do what he had been instructed to, urging him to obey. When he reached the door, however, he realized that his brother had been left behind.
He stretched his body back to find Elladan still sitting there.
"Are you coming, Dan?"
Elladan looked up at him, and Elrohir felt that his astonished brother was remembering a whole, previous context about which the younger twin did not have any knowledge. Elrohir had not dared to listen to the brief conversation that had taken place on the upper floor. It bothered him, but he remembered his father's request, the confidence he knew he had to have in the Lord of Imladris.
"Dan? Are you going to keep Ada waiting?"
When they got upstairs, the brothers were surprised to see that Elrond had returned to his own chambers instead of going to theirs as was expected. The Lord of Imladris's room was not often visited by his children, especially after their mother's departure. Elrohir looked at his brother again before obeying his father's command. Elrond had opened the door and had already positioned himself beside it, offering passage to his sons.
Elladan followed his worried twin, but when he saw his father go through the antechamber and open the next door, he felt he was already at his limits. Entering his parents' room was far from what his energy could manage tonight.
Elrohir obeyed promptly, unaware that he was leaving his brother behind. The youngest twin had been there a short time ago, so he already knew what Elladan was going to experience.
But Elladan stood still, his eyes slowly examining the antechamber that was nothing like his and his brother's. The place was filled with books and parchments, as well as other small keepsakes his father earned and considered important. Memories of present and ancient friends.
Elladan put his glass on one of the tables, hoping he could persuade his father to talk to him there. He'd thought from the first moment that they were going upstairs only because Elrond was looking for a more private place to end the conversation they were having.
Elrohir's face appeared again at the door, trying to understand why the others had not accompanied him. Only then Elladan found courage to ask the most important question at the moment.
"Can we stay here, Ada?" he asked, and the worried air his question aroused on his brother's face only made him feel worse.
Elrond leaned his head slightly to the left, and Elladan interpreted it as the only answer he would get. So, when his father raised his hand again to the direction he had already indicated, it left Elladan only time to let out a sigh of discomfort before he accepted the invitation. He stepped hesitantly into the room, feeling overwhelmed by a series of memories, which he was not ready or willing to experience at the moment.
The first thing he saw was Elrohir standing in front of the undone bed, staring at the sheets with tight lips. That was enough for the cascade of remembrances he knew to hit him hard. The younger twin moved his eyes to him then, and on his face, there was a message he understood too well.
As if to rescue them from these melancholy memories, Elrond walked past them naturally, caressing Elrohir's hair and picking up the bottle of wine his son had brought.
"Finish your drink, ion nîn," he said, placing the bottle and his own glass onto one of the bedside tables. "Then you can lie down on my bed if my conversation with your brother turns out to be not of your interest. Which I imagine will happen."
Elrohir was intrigued by this. "If you prefer, I could go to my room." he said. "I will not be offended if you want to speak to Elladan alone."
Elrond just shook his head. "I like having you here, my child," he said, with his back to him as he opened a large chest and took some papers from it. "Can you help me here, Elladan?"
The older twin awoke from his contemplative state. He was still processing the brief dialogue between his father and his brother, thinking of how to object if Elrohir really decided to leave him here. They had an agreement since childhood to be together in all difficult times, whatever they were.
"Elladan?" Elrond reinforced the call, and only then did the young elf move toward him, picking up the pile of papers in his father's hands. "Would you put them on that table, please?" Elrond instructed, holding some more documents out to him.
Elrohir looked curiously at some of them as Elladan passed him, but the first glimpse he had of a sketched drawing made him turn his attention back to his wine.
"Even here in your bedroom you have papers about healing practices?" he asked, walking away and grimacing as he forced down another sip of wine.
Elrond smiled, watching over his shoulder as the younger twin acted as the good son and the brother he was, performing exactly the role he should in this situation. Elrohir knew where his father wanted him, although in doing this he had to temporarily ignore his own feelings. He did as Elrond hoped, placing his glass on the nightstand and throwing himself theatrically on his father's bed.
"Let me know when you're done."
Elrond laughed then, his shoulders shaking slightly, then realized that, only a few paces from him, Elladan's attention was elsewhere again. He drew closer to him, looking over his son's shoulder at the manuscripts the boy read. He silently waited for the young elf as he voraciously read the two pages that were in his hands.
"What... what are these documents, Ada?" Elladan finally asked, moving his eyes over the papers that were still on the table with the hunger of one who had been facing starvation for years. "How long have they been here?"
Elrond picked up the sheets his son had in his hands, putting them on top of the others.
"They are part of a single volume. They have been with me for plenty of time. They already had a good binding, but the weather took much of its identity.
"Who wrote it?" Elladan continued to look curiously at the drafts, even though he did not have them in hand anymore.
Elrond smiled sadly. "My handwriting has improved over time," he commented, wrapping an arm around his son's shoulders.
Elladan was surprised. "But why is this precious thing stored here and without any binding that protects it, Ada?"
"Because there is no purpose for drafts of studies on edain's health to be anywhere other than here with me."
"What do you mean?" Elladan asked, still perplexed.
"Our healers have other interests, child. When we treat the few edain who come here, they usually present problems we always deal with: war wounds, fractured bones, bleeding. We can treat them, most of the time, with almost the same doses of medication we use for us. Even for infections and inflammation. Our compounds that combat the infection that comes with the enemy poison, for example, added to other herbs, are also useful in cases of infections that only affect the edain, such as illnesses of the respiratory tract.
Elladan listened to this report with attentive eyes and parted lips, but Elrond knew that all this focus his son was giving to things he already knew by heart was due to the fact that he was still waiting to hear something more. That certainty brought a sense of pleasure to the healer. Of all his disciples, and among them there were many hand-picked talents who left other kingdoms to receive training from him, Elladan had always been the most passionate for everything he heard. He was quicker to learn and was one who grasped even what was not even hinted to him. He had an insatiable thirst for any knowledge of healing that was offered to him.
"Ada..." he heard his son say with his eyes locked again on the many pages. "Forgive me, but I have to disagree with the opinion of our healers. Such knowledge cannot be stored in a trunk."
Elrond gently squeezed his son's arm while still holding him close.
"Do not misunderstand what I tell you, child. When I say that the material is not in their interest, I express my own opinion, since I see no reason why our friends of healing should use their precious time in theories that have rarely been put into practice and which refer to a people who are rarely under our care. They certainly have other interests in the areas in which they engage."
"I do not have other interests now, Ada," Elladan said firmly. "Would you let me read your drafts? I could bind them for you if you so desired. I promise to guard them with my very life."
Elrond looked at the papers once more, then subtly pulled his son away from the table in question.
"It would be to my liking if I could pass them on, adding them, with luck, to your own theories and discoveries," he proposed, observing out of the corner of his eye that he had already succeeded in his first intention when he'd brought the twins to this room. Once he felt safe, and with the hope that his biggest problem would be solved, Elrohir had already fallen asleep, right there, in his father's bed.
"That would give me extreme pleasure," Elladan said, but then his smile faded, as he looked upon his brother. "This stubborn one does not get enough sleep, do you see, Ada?" he complained, watching his brother lying on his stomach as he had always slept. He had not even taken off his robe. "That's why I could not believe it when I saw him in the kitchen. It was the first night in days that he was about to actually lie down in his bed and not just take naps on a couch. If I knew I was going to wake him, I would not have left the room."
Elrond smiled, pulling the covers over the younger twin. "Everything has a good reason," he said in a quiet voice. "You do not have to look at the situation too deeply to discover the source of his unrest you just told me about."
Elladan stopped for a moment, then lowered his eyes. "I think we caused a lot of trouble even when we only needed a little bit of time for ourselves," he said, but then he closed his eyes and shook his head, as if he had rethought his words and wanted to retract them. "Sorry, I..."
But Elrond was already beside him, bringing him gently to the other side of the bed.
"I want you both to stay here with me tonight," he said, pulling away the covers on the other side of the bed and undoing the belt of Elladan's robe over his pajamas. "Tomorrow, after some time of rest, I believe that all this bitterness we feel will have been converted into more productive feelings."
Elladan wanted to protest, but he judged that his small act of rebellion had been more than his conscience could manage the next morning. He took off his robe and lay down, drawing closer to his brother, who did the same instinctively as soon as he felt his twin's presence.
Elladan laughed quietly. "I think I still have room for you," he said, thankful for the huge bed his father owned. He remembered that when he was a child he would slip into the room with his brother several times to invade their parents' bed. At that time this bed seemed even bigger.
Elrond let out a short laugh as well, then sat down beside his son. Unfortunately, he could still see, even if well disguised, the anguish in his firstborn's eyes. He knew the young elf was not satisfied with the way his day was ending so abruptly.
"There is an illness in the edain. Among its symptoms are those wounds that are difficult to heal," he said, already pursing his lips when he received his son's immediate attention. Elladan was certainly one of the rare Elves who would like to hear a story even when he should be resting. He rethought his decision for a moment, but finally he continued. "It is a chronic and quite serious disease, as it affects the body's control of processing a much needed component for it."
The twin frowned. "Which component?"
"A kind of sugar, the body's main source of energy."
"In what organ does such processing take place?"
Elrond's smile widened. That was Elladan, interested in every minutia of a healing case, even longing desperately to hear the end of it.
"In that pile of papers I showed you, there are a few pages, if I remember correctly, with all those answers. Is there anyone in this village who can read instructions written in the common language?" he asked, and Elladan rolled his eyes trying to remember.
"Yes, I think there is someone, one of the hunters who accompanied our group when we were there. Elrohir said that he was the one who took care of the few documents and the purchases and sales there."
"Excellent. Tomorrow we will talk more about this woman's problem, and I will send instructions on how she can be treated to relieve the symptoms of this terrible disease."
"Relieve?" Elladan asked, the small, hopeful expectation disappearing from his face.
Elrond let out a weak sigh. "Unfortunately, child. If what I assumed about her problem is correct, and it is what I believe it to be, from your brother's account, there is still nothing to combat this evil fully. There are just medicines and other care such as food and certain frequent physical exercises that can mitigate the progression of the illness and give these people more time and quality of life."
Elladan sat on the bed then, and his pale face could not hide his disappointment.
"More time?"
"More time, child."
"How long?"
Elrond cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, then thoughtfully he sighed at last. "I do not know... There's no way to tell... It depends on many factors that are not in our hands."
"Too much time or too little time?"
Elrond let out a stronger sigh then.
"I really do not know. I would need to see her, to know details of her life, such as her age, if she has children, if she suffers from any other illness, and ascertain the severity of the injuries she already has."
"They are serious..." Elladan lowered his eyes to the sheet which he clasped with both hands. "I used a series of compounds, all combinations to combat mild or severe infections, all for inflammation and scarring as well, but I did not feel any reaction, nor did my instincts manage to predict them for the next few days..."
Elrond dropped his shoulders, reaching out and taking his son's hand. "It's part of our plight to face battles such as these, child."
Elladan swallowed that answer as the bitterest of herbs. "I know, Ada..." he forced himself to say.
"We have the most ruthless enemy."
"I know, I know..."
"Tell me 'I know' one more time and maybe I'll believe you."
Elladan twisted his lips, and that gleam was in his eyes again. It was a pity, Elrond thought, wondering at how much harder it was to ease his older son than it was the younger one.
"What do you expect me to say?" Elladan asked at last, letting go of his father's hand. "What do you want me to do? Lie down here in my comfortable home and ignore the painful memories of a disease I've tried to combat for days? Do you want me to do that by comforting myself with such an argument?"
Elrond fell silent in the face of that unusual response from this son, but Elladan was regretting it already. The twin rubbed his forehead with a trembling hand, his breathing changing. In another situation, Elrond might have been affronted, but as a healer and father he knew that this was a very delicate time, so that stupid, silly pride would make things even worse. He put his hands in his lap then and waited for what he knew would come. He knew his son.
"Forgive me..." Elladan's request sounded in a choked voice now. "I'm tired... and confused... I am not myself," he admitted, his head down, not even looking at his father. "I know that is not an acceptable excuse for my behavior, Ada... I ask you to disregard what I have said or will say, if I could be even more stupid and you get tired of me and make me leave..."
Elrond continued looking at his son, analyzing the effects of the state of anguish and exhaustion that showed on Elladan's face. "Is she alone?" he asked then.
Elladan bit his lip, as if controlling himself to answer that question with an acceptable answer and not with another disrespectful one. At last he just shook his head.
"Are those who are with her family or are they just at her service?" Elrond asked, changing his questioning.
This time Elladan gave him a puzzled look that asked without words the relevance of that information.
"I want to know the evils that plague her, boy. Do you not expect a very accurate answer from me?"
"The evils?"
"Yes. I mentioned them earlier. The ones that can be aggravating to her condition."
Elladan's face twitched in repudiation of what that idea brought him. He shook his head then and rubbed his face again. "Having someone helping her, even if just by giving her a caring service, can be an evil?" he asked, voicing his doubt.
"It depends. Is this the situation?"
Elladan tightened his grip on the sheets, his attention lost as if plunging into another world, seeking answers he did not have in the present one.
Elrond watched the whole situation with equal sadness, but started to feel that if he did not do something the conversation would end here.
"What's the name of such a lady?"
Elladan looked away, as if changing his focus to an image he was remembering, and Elrond started to think that he would no longer respond to any questions, when his lips moved again.
"They call her Violet. I do not know if that's her name, or if it's because she... she loves flowers... She talks... she talks about flowers... all the time..." Elladan tried to explain, but stopped for a moment, closing his eyes. He wanted to rearrange what seemed impossible. He wanted to give order to the hundreds of feelings he had.
Elrond realized at last that it was not the revolt that gave rise to the silence of his son.
"Do you know for how long she's been bedridden?"
Elladan closed his eyes briefly before answering. "I do not know..." He paused again, tossing his hair nervously away from his face. "I was told that before her illness got worse, she kept herself busy washing the clothes of some of the local people in a nearby river..."
"I see." Elrond decided to wait. It was so rare to see his son in this state that even he felt insecure about how to act to get where he needed to be with him. After another little moment of silence, he decided to continue. "Do you have more information for me?" he asked, trying to use the most patient tone he could use.
Elladan swallowed hard, then took a deep breath, searching for air or energy to continue. "Age has already turned her hair grey..." he added with a sad sigh. "And the two other ladies who take turns keeping her company are older as well. They clean her wounds and try to keep her comfortable," he added, answering the question his father had not asked.
"She has no family then?"
"No... And I do not know if she ever had any. From what I have understood these ladies are not of her line, but they treat her with respect and dignity."
"Just that?"
"Just what?"
"Just respect and dignity?"
Elladan's jaw dropped. On his face was evident indignation. He was too tired and confused to hear such a question.
"Is that not enough, Ada?" he asked, returning unwittingly to the tone for which he had apologized before.
"Is that enough for you?" Elrond asked in an equal voice. "Was it how you treated her?"
Elladan paled, and his gaze was that of someone who does not understand or accept what he hears.
"Was that how you treated her, ion nîn?" Elrond softened his voice once more.
Listening to that question again was not much help at first. Elladan seemed stuck on that question and its reason. His anguish was so great that only when the understanding finally favored him did he seem to remember that he had to breathe.
Elrond noticed that moment, as someone who has been watching a bud for many days finally sees the flower bloom.
"Was it like this, my child?" he insisted, still more cautious.
"No..." Elladan replied with his eyes low as if talking to himself. "Neither do they..." He lifted his gaze to his father. "They did not help her out of respect or a sense of dignity."
Elrond nodded silently, a small smile on his lips. He reached out, resting his hand on his son's leg. Elladan followed the movement and when he turned his attention to his father again, the Elven Lord finally exhaled in relief to see that the glow in his son's eyes was slowly intensifying.
"Why then do all these people help her?" He whispered his question now. "Compassion?"
Elladan shook his head. "Love ..." he said. "Even I..." He looked at his father, who just nodded with a patient smile, following that revelation with equal emotion. "Even I, Ada... She is a fragile and defenseless lady. But from her lips we never hear any complaints about her situation... Everyone loves her very much. Why should I not feel the same way?" he asked, trying to explain, but his voice was getting more and more affected by emotion.
"Yes. You have been offering her your most powerful medicine," Elrond said, patting his son's leg. "The love with which you treated her, the love that you still reserve for her, when you keep her in your thoughts and desires of her getting better."
Elladan covered his face, trying to control the grief that wanted to take control of him. He then realized that Elrohir had lifted one of his arms and wrapped it around his waist. Elladan took a deep breath, regretting that he had not been able to keep his tone down in the conversation and had awoken his brother out of a heavy sleep. He wiped his face with one hand, resting the other on his twin's back.
"I'm sorry, Ro..."
Elrohir just tightened his embrace.
"She'll be better..." he said without lifting his head. His face was turned to the other side of the bed. "Ada will send the instructions, or we'll take them if you want."
Elladan parted his lips, trying to breathe more naturally, his anguish giving way to exhaustion at last. "All right..." he finally said.
Elrohir looked up at him then, "All right, what? Do you want to go back?"
Elladan thought for a moment, then shook his head in denial. "No..." he said, placing his hand on his twin's head, gently forcing it down again. "You need to get some rest, my captain."
Elrohir laughed, grabbing his brother's shirt to make him lie down, too. Elladan gave in with subdued laughter, falling heavily on the pillow. The two laughed again, and Elrohir settled closer to him.
Elrond watched the scene with a contemplative look. "You two really need some rest," he said, also smiling now, but as he settled the blankets over Elladan, his son took one of his hands.
"Lie down with us, please."
Elrond nodded, watching the boy's heavy eyelids. Beside him Elrohir was asleep again.
"I want you to leave your worries aside and follow the example of your brother, my beloved child," Elrond whispered, running the back of his hand over his son's face. "The world will not dawn better or worse with your falling asleep. I assure you."
Elladan offered a small smile. "I hope so," he said, closing his eyes with the caress received. "I would not like to have that responsibility... I can barely manage the ones I have..."
Elrond shook his head at that statement and the sad tone that still lingered in it. He put his hand on his son's chest and closed his eyes, willing him to fall asleep. Unfortunately, he knew well the feeling his son felt. In a certain way, it was the same way he was feeling at that moment: to witness pain over which the only remedy is an ephemeral comfort.
He also wished to have done a little more, to have guaranteed the certainties that a father should guarantee to his children. But he knew that one person cannot guarantee any other certainties that were never guaranteed to himself.
All he could do was to play his role of healer, as he had done this night, and to teach, whenever possible, what he had learned.
Elrond sighed at that conclusion, and as he prepared himself to remember how it was like to sleep with someone by his side after so long, something caught his attention.
"Thank you, Ada…" Elladan's voice sounded like a sigh, the young elf was almost asleep. "We love you very much..."
Elrond relaxed and smiled, his heart suddenly cherishing his children. He lay down, leaning on one elbow to look at his two sons. Elrohir kept his arm over his brother, sleeping with his head against his as he did when they were children and continued to do in situations like this. Elladan was sleeping on his back, his hand resting on his brother's arm.
Love, that fabulous medicine.
"I love you too, my dear sons..." he whispered, finally quenching the light.
I hope you have enjoyed it. Please leave a review if you can. I'd like to give thanks to my wonderful beta Puxinette, who is always ready to help me with a new text. I love you.