Title: The Unthinkable
Characters: Elladan, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings characters and concept are not mine and are being used without permission.
Summary: "Elrohir couldn't imagine it. Couldn't comprehend the depth of it. How was one supposed to live without their twin?". Ficlet.
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The unthinkable had happened. One of them had been cut down by orcs, ripped from neck to navel. This was not supposed to happen, not like this, not ever.
Both of Elrond's sons were frozen in time, staring at each other in open horror. Both unable to grasp the rapidly approaching mortality of their situation. In a few precious seconds they would be twins no more.
Elrohir couldn't imagine it. Couldn't comprehend the depth of it. How was one supposed to live without their twin? To be ripped apart from his brother… To be separated by uncrossable borders… . They knew each other in a way no one else ever could. Sure, they did the twin thing everyone expected; finished each others sentences, spoke without words, felt the others pain. But it was more than that. More than the flash and glamour that awed and humored. It was what the populous didn't see. The strength drawn from the other's mere presence. The pain and rage released on each other. When the unfairness of it all came crashing down on one brother the other would be there. He would take the screams and the punches without a word until all the venom and anger was expelled. Then he would comfort as the other was racked with the cleansing tears. It was a healing process for the brothers. It was what made them able to cope and to grow stronger. They were each others support, inspiration, motivation. The driving force behind everything the other did.
Elrohir had often heard Elladan and himself liken to day and night, light and dark; each his own, but meaningless without the other. He knew it to be true. With Elladan, he knew who he was and where he belonged. Without his twin, he would be… undefined. He would lose all sense of self. Elladan was his focal point, his beacon home and map in the maze.
And now. Now what was to happen? Could breath be drawn without reason? Could steps be taken without cause? Could life be lived without purpose?
Elrohir thought not. Maybe there were others stronger than he, others who could cope with the loss of half their soul, but not he. There would be no Elrohir without Elladan.
A scream tore through the glade. A scream of anguish and despair, of pain both of the body and of the heart. Elrohir didn't know if it was his cry or his brothers, or even one of the warriors still fighting the meaningless fight. He was numb.
What was one to say in this never imagined situation? When words would be both too much and never enough? There was nothing one could say. Nothing one could do, except watch. Watch as a river of crimson poured out of the mutilated elven body. Watch as liquid life flooded the ground, as a last breath was taken, as a fire was extinguished. All Elrohir could do was watch as horrid realization struck his twin, mirrored in his own eyes and echoed in his own mind. It was a fatal wound. One that would claim the life of Elrond's son before his staggering body hit the ground. And all Elrohir could do was watch.
Elrohir tried to run to his twin, but his legs wouldn't move. He couldn't even feel his legs. All he could feel was the all encompassing agony of loss. The crushing weight of grief flying between the two unmoving brothers. One grieving for the loss of his twin, the other for the life the survivor would have to now face. The half life of the lost and lonely.
No, Elrohir knew he could not survive that half life, he could not survive the loss of his twin. He prayed that Elladan could.
"ELROHIR!" Another cry met his ears, a hysterical plea he knew to be Elladan's. Collapsing into his own pooling blood, Elrohir heard no more.
-Fin-