Whispers in the darkness
Thank you Morwen80 for correcting the mistakes in made
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Elrond always pretended not to hear the whispers, pretended that his own people did not speak about him behind his back, but that didn't mean that he did not hear them.
It had started a few months after his beloved wife Celebrian had sailed. He had just started to attend social gatherings again, his children had appeared with red, puffy eyes which would start to water at any small reminder of their mother.
Elrond however was stoic, cold and unmoved. Even when her sailing was mentioned in a conversation he would not even flinch, his voice would remain steady and he emotionless.
First the people of Imladris had thought that it was his way of dealing with his sorrow but after Arwen had fled to her grandparents in Lothlórien and his twin sons had begun their revenge on the Orcs in form of mindless, reckless slaughtering, he still hadn't displayed any emotion.
It was then when they started to doubt that the Half-elf had any emotions at all or if the joy and laughter had, just been an act.
The curious and worried whispers had turned into annoyed and angry ones; those had turned into hateful ones.
It was normal for the Elves in Imladris to complain about their Lord now, without even caring who heard them.
Elrond kept his façade and did not show how much he hurt inside, how his heart was bleeding and how the people were ripping at his already torn heart, adding to the pain he was in.
But he refused to show his people the pain he was in, hated the thought of the pity he would receive.
He had experience with grief and pain, his entire life was intertwined with the pain of losing loved ones.
He would survive this, would not give into the pain now that his entire family had been torn apart by a few Orcs and he was all alone again.
Elladan and Elrohir returned every few months with terrible wounds and Elrond took care of them, never punishing them or trying to convince them to stop. He knew it was mad to do so; the twins would only take out their anger and frustrations on the Elves. They already lashed out when they had to stay for longer than two days. Therefore Elrond used most of his energy on healing his sons so they could leave again soon.
They did not realized how much their father did for them, how much strength he used for them, how exhausted he looked every time they left. They were just as blind to Elrond's suffering as everyone else in the valley was. And Elrond was happy they were.
He did not want to add to their pain, he did not want for them to be concerned or worried about him- if they were even able to at the moment.
Just as Elrond began to ready himself for another rough night on the sofa, he heard someone knock on the door to his chambers. He opened to find a young servant standing there:
"My lord, your sons have just returned, Elladan is badly injured, he didn't seem to be conscious!"
Elrond nodded:
"Please lead me to them", he said, his voice neutral and his face unchanged.
He could see the confusion on the young servants face and knew that he wanted to ask if Elrond was worried about his son's well-being, if he even cared that they always returned home either badly injured or to gather supplies. What the servant did not know was that every time the twins returned with a particular nasty wound, Elrond's heart sank and the fear of losing another one he loved became stronger.
The room in which his sons were smelled of blood and herbs, the bed on which Elladan lay was stained red with blood.
For the first time in years an expression hushed over Elrond's face, his worry, fear, sorrow and pain getting apparent for only a moment before his mask slid back onto his face.
The short display of emotion had gone unnoticed by everyone in the room; all eyes were fixed on the unmoving form on the bed.
"What are you doing? Fix him!" demanded Elrohir when he finally saw his father standing in the room.
Elrond was snapped out of his trance and began to examine his older son. The wound was deep and long, Elladan had lost quite a lot of blood, almost too much to be saved, but luckily there was no poison.
It took hours for Elrond to save his son from the immediate danger of dying because of the blood loss and he did as much as he could to prevent an infection. Now he sat at Elladan's side, pouring his healing energy into his weakened body. Elrohir had been sent to bathe and eat while he was busy healing so he would not be disturbed.
He would have spent the rest of the night and the next day here, had Elrohir been injured as well but that was not supposed to be now.
Elrohir barged in a few moments later and hurried to his brother's side. He smiled upon seeing that the colour was beginning to return to his face and his sleep was deep and undisturbed.
That smile quickly faded as he saw that his father was still in the room, holding his brother's hand and probably pouring his healing energy into Elladan's body at this very moment.
"What are you still doing here? El is going to be fine, I can see him healing, there is no need for you to be here any longer!" he said his voice hard and his eyes cold.
Caught between the urge to hug his son and shout at him, Elrond put his hand on his shoulder:
"Ion-nin… I"
-"Don't call me that! Go already!" Elrohir interrupted
Elrond was aghast to hear his own son to talk to him like that. He sounded like many of the Elves had after the Battle of the last Alliance, cold and heartless, not caring about the feelings of others. He turned around and left the room immediately, not wanting to see his son's cold eyes anymore.
Elrond quickly walked to his room, he did not want to see anyone else right now, and he needed no craved solitude.
It happened for the first time in the corridor just before his room; the edges of his vision got black and blurry, his hands started shaking and his legs weren't strong enough to carry him any longer.
He leaned against the wall, trying to hold himself up but to no avail. He slid down the wall and fell to the floor in seconds, blacking out soon after.
He woke up seconds later, feeling frozen to the core and he was still shaking. He stood up and hurried to his rooms, hoping that no one had seen him.
But knowing his people, they would not care if he lay bleeding in the Hall of Fire for everyone to see. They did not care about him anymore. Neither did his sons, or Arwen.
No one cared about how he felt, what he wanted to say. Had it always been like this? Had anyone ever truly cared about him?
Elrond doubted that it would not change the world in any way if he would die at this very moment.
He sat down in a comfortable chair with a glass of potent wine in his hand, staring at the fire.
He pondered what had happened just minutes ago, he had eaten enough, had not spent too much of his energy, he did not have a vision… what had caused him to collapse and become so cold that even the alcohol could not warm him properly?
Just as he began falling asleep, the memories he had suppressed of healing Celebrian resurfaced, he remembered seeing her broken body for the first time, remembered the joy he had felt when she had woken for the first time, remembered his despair at realizing that Celebrian would never recover from the abuse she had gone through.
He remembered the empty feeling that had filled his heart when Celebrian left the shores of Middle Earth on a white ship.
Why did everyone have to leave him? Was he cursed? Would it not be better for everyone else to stay as far away as possible from him?
Tears began slipping down his cheeks now; he did not want to be alone, never had. It was so much easier to pretend that no one had ever left him when he was on his own, it made it easier for him to forget that his sons' only goal was to rid Middle Earth of Orcs and that they would do anything to achieve that goal. He let out a quiet sob, remembering the look on Elrohir's face.
He finally realized that to them, he wasn't a father anymore, he was just another servant. They had forgotten that they had a parent. They had forgotten him.
Elrohir smiled seeing his brother's waking up. He had been sleeping for quite a while and Elrohir missed his brother's company. He did not have anyone else to talk to.
His father would never understand what he was feeling; Elrond did not seem capable of feeling anything.
"Does he even care about what happened to Nana?" he asked out loud
"Who?" came the weak reply.
Elrohir's eyes widened, who had entered the room without him noticing? He turned his gaze to Elladan and was surprised to find him alert and looking at him.
"Who were you talking about, 'Ro?", he asked again, this time stronger
"Adar of course! He has not fussed even once about our injuries; he was not there when we were crying after Nana had left. Even Arwen could not stay here because of Adar!"
"Do you think it is Ada's fault that Nana is gone?" asked Elladan softly after a moment
"Of course not! But why doesn't he care? How can he still be so...so...so normal after what has happened?"
"I think he hurts more than he shows, 'Ro. Even though it has been years, I do not think that Ada is alright. How could he be? He has loved Nana so much, we both know that."
"I know, Elladan. I just can't stop thinking about this. Can't stop worrying about Arwen. Curse the Orcs who have caused our family this suffering!"
"Please 'Ro, just give Ada a chance, don't treat him like an unloving man. Just spend some time with him?"
"I will, for you Elladan."
Days passed and the twins did not see their father again. Elladan had to stay in bed and rest, Elrohir always stayed close to his brothers side, Elrond continued with his duties as a Lord.
However those duties became harder and harder to perform and he was getting weaker. Elrond had realized that he was fading and decided that he would be the best Lord he possibly could be until the end.
Elladan and Elrohir had decided to join the evening meal before they left again. It was important for the Elves in Imladris to see them alive and well.
The dining hall which was normally filled with joyous laughter was abnormally quiet; their father looked very tired and did not seem to be in the mood to talk. After the meal was over, everyone went into the Hall of Fire to sing and enjoy life.
Elrond however went into the opposite direction, to his private quarters.
Elrond sighed. Although he had been delighted to see his sons at the evening meal, his heart was still heavy.
They had not said a single word to him, Elrohir had avoided looking at him and Elladan had glanced quickly at his father and then looked at his food again.
At that very moment, Elrond's vision went completely black and he knew no more.
Upon hearing a thud, Elladan and Elrohir turned around, only to see their father's motionless figure lying on the cold floor. They ran towards him as quickly as they could:
"Ada, Ada? ADA?" their concerned shouts rang through the hall and the Elves quickly noticed their
Lord lying unconscious on the ground, a healer was found almost immediately and came to examine him.
The healer quickly found the cause of the Lord's collapse. He stood up and turned to the small crowd which had formed in the Great Hall.
"Our Lord is fading."
These four words managed to turn quiet muttering into silence. Everyone stood flabbergasted and stared at the fallen form before them. No one present had thought that they would ever hear these words.
"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Elladan, his hands searching out his father's cold ones. He clasped them in his own and tried to warm them up
"Not much, my young lord. We can make him as comfortable as we can, talk to him and make him realize how loved and appreciated he truly is. We can't do more than that." answered the healer.
"Can he hear us?" asked Elrohir who had started stroking his father's hair
"Yes, he can hear every single word. He might not listen closely but he can hear you and that is the most important thing."
Elrond was brought to his room and laid on his bed. His sons made sure that their father was comfortable and warm. Elladan curled up next to his father while Elrohir was content on a chair next to the bed, still holding his father's hand.
"Ada I am so sorry for the pain we must have caused you, you were in so much pain that you could not continue living and started to fade. And we did not realize how much you were hurting until it was too late! We should have been here for you but instead we focused on our own problems and forgot everyone around us. Please forgive me, Ada. I am so sorry, just please, please Ada, don't leave us. Don't leave me."
Elrohir fell asleep in the chair after a few hours. He prayed to the Valar that his father would find his way back to them.
Elrond was floating in a soothing darkness, all the pain and heartache was gone, leaving with only calmness in his heart.
"Ada"… "Ada"
Elrond tried to move away from the voices which we're disturbing his pleasant sleep.
"Ada I am so sorry for the pain we must have caused you, you were in so much pain that you could not continue living and started to fade."
Fading… he had been fading for a long time. This must be the end, he realized. This has to be the final chapter, the last step before he would be in the Halls of Mandos.
That voice, Elrond knew this voice he couldn't quite grasp where from.
"Please forgive me, Ada"
Ada? Who would call him Ada?
Now he finally recognized the voice, it was his younger twin son, Elrohir! Why would he call him? Why would he care?
"Please, please Ada, don't leave us. Don't leave me."
That plea broke his heart. It did not matter to him any longer that he would have to live alone for the rest of his life nor did it matter that Arwen was in Lothlórien and that his sons were consumed by the need to avenge their mother.
He could not leave his family like this; he could not break children's hearts again. He could not force them to lose another parent. He tried to reach his son, tried to find a way through the darkness back to his body, back to Imladris.
It was exhausting and took much out of his weak spirit but he finally reached the end of the darkness and stood in front of a gate.
"When you pass through that you will get back to the world of the living, young Half-elf. I hope that we won't have to see you here, Penneth." a deep male voice behind Elrond said.
He quickly turned around to see a tall man with long black hair standing in the darkness
"Namo", Elrond whispered in awe.
"Yes that is my name. Now go young one, your loved ones are awaiting your return."
With that he disappeared, still smiling. Elrond turned around again and quickly strode through the gate, all sorrow and sadness forgotten.
"Do you really think he is going to wake up?"
"Yes Elrohir, he has to! What would we do without him?"
Elrond heard hushed voices talking in a worried tone, had he been able to get back into his body? He tried to open his eyes but his body responded sluggishly and he was too weak to fully open them.
"Ada? Ada you are awake! How are you?"
"Oh Ada I am so sorry!"
"My Lord!"
Elrond was overwhelmed by everything; so many people were speaking at once that he could not detect who was saying what.
"My sons..." he said quietly, smiling softly, "I am so glad that you are here."
Hundreds of years later, a crying Gilraen came to Imladris with her young son in her arms. One evening she asked him:
"How do I go on? How do I continue living without my husband?"
Elrond smiled and pointed towards her son:
"He is going to be your light in the darkness. He is going to be the glimmer of hope in the swirling pits of despair. Hold on to that hope."