So this came into my head well I was working on the most recent chapter of The Fated Son and refused to leave. My choice to write it down my not have been the best one as a lot of people are probably going to want to murder me over what I have done to some of our favorite elves; so as a note to the read, you may murder my, because I will completely understand.

You Were So Brave, Ion-nîn

It took only a single hard strike from the pommel of Glorfindel's longsword to snap the door's lock, and the moments it took for Rivendell's Guard Captain to force the iron door open where some of the longest of Elrond's life. The smell of fear and death had filled the air even before the door was open, but with it now open, the smell was far worse.

"I will need more light," Elrond said, trying to keep his voice steady. Glorfindel passed him a torch wordlessly, but Elrond could read the expression of worry and fear on the ancient warrior's face; Elrond gave what he hoped was a comforting nod before he stepped into the dark cell. The flame from the torch scattering long shadows across the rough stone walls, and it seems a week light against the darkness and death that hung all around.

The stones of both the walls and the floor were stained red with elven blood, and Elrond did not want to know what it was that clung to his boots as he moved farther in. Iron bands and chains covered the walls and ceiling, marked where prisoners had once been shackled; and although he wished that he could not, Elrond could not help but look at the whips and instruments of torture that hung in the gloom overhead. Behind him, back in hall, he could hear Celebrían's quiet weeping.

Elrond knew in his heart that he should go to his wife, to hold and comfort her. But he also knew that her father, Celeborn, was with her, and that he was just as able as Elrond himself to provide her with comfort. Elrond also knew that his wife would never forgive him if he did not perform this hellish task himself. Because Elrond knew that it was his duty as both husband and father to do this. Even if what lay before him was far worse than what he had left behind.

Elrond had to go deep, far too deep, into the horrible cell before he finally found the one he had been desperately looking for over the past few hours. He had prayed to every one of the Valar who might listen that he would not find his younger son in this place of darkness and death as he had found his wife. And it seemed that the Valar had agreed with him because when he found was far worse than what had faced him when Glorfindel had forced open the iron door of the cell that had held his wife, his beautiful Celebrían.

Elrohir lay motionless on the floor, and had it not been for the uneven ragged gasps that came from him Elrond might have thought that his younger son was already dead. Blood surrounded Elrohir in a dark and frightening pool, his eyes were closed and even more, blood bubbled from between his pale lips. Elrond fell to his knees where he was, unable to cope with what he was seeing.

"Elrohir?" he called, his voice echoed off the walls, repeating his son's name over and over again. Elrond inching forward across the bloody floor. "Ion-nîn?"

The torch sputtered, he had dropped it, Elrond realized, not that it mattered. There was a long and dreadful silence, one during which Elrond could hear the pounding of his own heart before Elrohir drew another gasping breath, and Elrond's hand was at last able to find his son's in the half-dark of the cell.

"Ada..." Elrohir murmured, his voice a broken whisper. "I'm... I'm sorry..."

"No, you were so brave, Ion-nîn," Elrond said, and a note of sternness creeping into his words. "The fault was mine, I should have sent more guards." He was beside his son now, and Elrond gently placed his other hand on Elrohir's shoulder. He could see his son's chest rising and falling unevenly as he fought to breathe, and with a cold dread, Elrond realized that he could hear the blood that was slowly filling Elrohir's lungs.

"I... I tried..." Elrohir said gasped as more blood bubbled past His lips, making him cough; there were now tears in his eyes Elrond saw, "... tried to keep everyone safe, I'm sorry."

"You did a fine job," Elrond replied, his hands shaking. "Your mother will live." Though I do not yet know what her scars will be. He added to himself

"What... what about... about Dan..." Each one of Elrohir's words was a struggle, and Elrond knew that it would not be long before his son slipped away.

"Your brother is safe," Elrond replied, cursing himself for the lie, even though he knew that it was needed. "The orcs did not touch him."

"Kept their promise." Elrohir murmured. A violent spasm of coughing hit him, there was even more blood them before, and it was all Elrond could do not to cry as he wiped it away.

"Lie still," Elrond said, though he knew in his heart there was nothing he could do here in this dark place of death; that even had they been in the far land of which he was the guardian, and the sanctity of the Healing Halls, he could have done nothing to save his son. "Let me see your wounds."

His son laughed bitterly then, however it turned to a bloody couch within moments. Elrohir shook his head. "You're... a terrible liar... Ada..."

"Worse than you?" the Lord of Imladris asked a low chuckle building in his chest despite the fear. "I very much doubt that."

Elrohir shifted closer to him, and Elrond realized that both of them were weeping in earnest. "Where... where's... is Nana..." Elrohir managed to say, he was fading fast Elrond knew.

"Outside," Elrond said, still holding his son's hand. "She's with the guard and your grandfather, they are looking after her."

Elrohir's breath was coming in low rasps now. "Tell her..." he murmured, every word torn from unwilling and bloody lips, "Tell her... that... I... I love..." His words trailed off, and he gave a final gasp before going still, and Elrond let out a scream that reverberated through the very land itself.

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