The Blood You Shed
Lydwina Marie
The room is dark. It presses mercilessly upon me, filled with contempt at my grief. It rejoices in my weakness. It sneers at my despair, for I desire nothing but to die. One half of my soul is being torn away as Elrohir drifts closer and closer to death. I have wept tears – tears of blood – and prayed to the Valar that his life might be spared.
My heart is devoid of hope.
I tasted the first seeds of despair when I found him at last in the foul camp of the Orcs. They had bound him cruelly and beaten him – the lashes blazed across his entire back now threaten to take him from me. I saw these marks first in darkness, but not so veiled that I could not see what they had done. And in all my life – not even when I sought revenge on the Orcs who took my Naneth from me – I had never felt such utter, abysmal rage. I killed those creatures. They did not deserve even the smallest flicker of life, and I rejoiced in snatching it from them. None could stand in the face of my wrath.
But all this faded as I looked upon my twin. His eyes met mine for one precious instant, revealing to me the anguish he had suffered alone in the darkness. I saw his trust. His love. And his tears. The tears that lay on his cheeks were the tears I shed as, bit by bit, my hope lessened.
Surely he could not have known the pain I felt during the days he had been missing. But he reached out one trembling hand to me, and as I touched it, desperate to know he lived – as I lifted him ever so tenderly and hugged him close, my tears fell and mingled with his, and I knew he knew.
All these pictures flash before my eyes – my anger transcending to fear as he lay unconscious during the endless gallop to Imladris. Ada's face as he took his son into his arms, drawing upon all the healing power he could wield to bring Elrohir back to us. The sleepless nights, one candle flickering in the darkness at his bedside as we hoped – we prayed – we begged that the Valar return him to our arms. Surely our love could draw him back, when all else failed?
But no. Love has failed and he lies cold and still. His chest barely moves from moment to moment, despite our desperate pleadings that he breathe.
I gaze down at the pain-stricken face cradled close to my heart – Elrohir lies so still, one might believe death has already caught him in its grasp. I dare not move, for he barely clings to life. For now, the dreaded nightmares leave him in peace, but soon they will seize him, rejoicing ruthlessly in his weakness. He cries for Ada and me with such terror it is anguish to behold.
Oh brother, can you not see that we share your pain? That you are not alone?
THE END
