Hello all! Well isnt this a pleasant surprise? I am posting ON TIME. Ha ha! This feels wonderful. I should do this more often. :) Special thanks once more to everyone who reviewed! Im glad to see you all again too. Also special thanks to my wonderful sibling beta, for all the aggravation she had to go through for this chapter. Lets just say, computer were not our friends this time around. I got a couple pages deleted, and she lost the whole chapter AFTER she had already done all her beta work. Aggravating. But it all came out okay, because I am posting ON TIME. :) Enjoy!

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The canvas flap fell behind him as he exited the tent. Elrond was frozen in place, his mind reeling. What had just happened? He turned to demand an explanation from his twin, but Elros no longer stood beside him. The young elf's head jerked from side to side, eyes nearly spinning as he searched for the crimson tunic his brother had been wearing.

There! He could see Elros' broad back disappearing behind another tent. Elrond forced himself forward. He had to catch up to his twin. He had to talk to him.

"Elros!"

Elrond saw his brother's shoulders stiffen as he continued to walk away, but he did not stop. His long legs continued to stride forward, carrying him farther and farther from his twin.

Just as his choice would.

Elrond was still gasping from the decision Elros had made. He had decided to die. To take the gift of men. The Valar had granted him long life, it was true. Elros and his descendants would live much, much longer than most men.

But he would still die.

He would not sail with Elrond to Valinor, and be reunited with their parents, nor pass into the Halls of Waiting upon his physical death and be eventually reborn in the Blessed Realm. Instead, he would molder beneath the crust of the earth until even his memory was erased. And he had not even mentioned that this would be his choice. He had not discussed his decision, though he knew that it would cause Elrond great pain.

A fierce wave of anger rose in Elrond's chest. The young elf broke into a trot and caught up with his brother. "Elros!"

When his twin still did not halt, Elrond reached out and caught hold of Elros' tunic. Twisting the fabric into his fist, he jerked with all his might, forcing his brother to face him.

Elros must have been surprised by Elrond's action. His booted feet stumbled as Elrond spun him about and he did not try to free himself at once. Light grey eyes widened in surprise as Elrond's free hand also caught hold of his garment.

For once, Elrond was on the verge of losing his composure completely. Fists tightening on the homespun tunic, the elder twin jerked his brother forward until Elros was standing on his toes, and his face was mere inches from his twin's. Elrond could feel his calm cracking around the edges. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt something. He wanted to beg his brother to reconsider while there was still time. Most of all, he wanted to know…

"Why?" He hissed between gritted teeth. Why had Elros done this? Why had he not spoken of it?

Elros' eyes flattened. "Let me go, brother." He waited until Elrond reluctantly complied.

Elros stepped back, tugging at the bottom of his tunic to straighten it. His gaze met Elrond's and for a moment, the elder twin could see his own pain in his brother's eyes. Pain of separation, of loss…

"Elrond…" the word came out softly, almost a plea. But no other words followed it. After a moment of silence, Elros turned on his heel and walked away.

Elrond felt as though he had been dipped into ice water. Everything was going numb. He had not strength to chase his brother and force him to answer. He watched in silence as his Elros' form grew smaller, then turned his back and walked in the opposite direction.

Thirty-one years later

A soft spring breeze blew in through his open window, ruffling the pages on the desk before him. Elrond sighed in frustration. His mind had been wandering again. Wandering far and away from the task at hand. Gil-Galad had requested he assist the humans in their preparations for the journey they were about to embark on, and Elrond had reluctantly acquiesced. He wished now that he hadn't.

With every notation of grain and goods the Edain would take with them, he was reminded that Elros would be departing as well.

Not only was Elros departing, he was to be their king!

In a fit of pique, Elrond threw his quill down upon the message he was supposed to be penning and placed his elbows on the desk; propping his chin in his hands. He wasn't getting anywhere with this.

The soft breeze blew once more, carrying the scents of flowers, and damp earth.

Perhaps a walk would clear his head.

Or a run.

Or if he was very fortunate, he would encounter a goblin left over from the war against Morgoth and have some vent for the violent emotions that were ripping his peace to shreds.

Conscientious as always, the young elf carefully capped his ink, and stacked his papers neatly before slipping out of his quarters and into the evening dusk.

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Elrond settled his back against a tree, his eyes fixed on the night skies to await the appearance of Eärendil. It would take a while. The sun's last rays were still tinting the horizon a ruby red, fading into the dusky purple of evening. It had rained earlier in the day, and the ground was damp, but Elrond noted it not.

The young elf drew his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. A sigh escaped his lips.

Over thirty years. Thirty years, and Elros had never spoken of their choice. They had talked, of course. They remained twins, and Elrond loved his brother no less than he had before. Indeed, he believed that he treasured the times he could spend with Elros all the more because he knew that they were limited.

He could not deny, however, that there was a wall between them.

The light touch of a hand on his shoulder startled him so badly he nearly yelped. Wide eyes flew up to see the smiling face of Gil-Galad.

"Hir nin!" Elrond started to rise, but the elf king waved a hand, motioning him to stay where he was. With the easy grace that came by nature, Gil-Galad sank down beside his young friend. Elrond glanced at him from the corner of his eye, curious as to what his king wanted. He knew from experience, however, that Gil-Galad would speak only when he wished to, and all the questioning in the world would not convince him to embark on a subject before he was ready.

"You have been distracted of late, pen neth."

Yes. Yes he had. "Gohena nin…"

"I am not seeking an apology, nor do I desire one," Gil-Galad broke into Elrond's smooth words in his usual blunt manner. "I am concerned. It is not like you to depart from reality and go chasing waking dreams." The king's dark eyes cast a sideways glance at the younger elf. "or nightmares, as the case may be."

Elrond stiffened slightly. He had an idea of where this was leading, and he didn't like it.

"Na es gwanor lin?"

The young elf closed his eyes. Did Gil-Galad really expect him to talk about this with him? He couldn't even speak to Elros about the pain and the burden that he was carrying. How could he say anything to anyone else? Elrond opened his mouth to utter a denial.

"…yes." Something had changed the word on the way from his brain to his tongue. He hadn't meant to say yes. He had meant to say no. "Yes. Yes!" His voice rose sharply in pitch on the last syllable before breaking off in a choking sound.

With a cry, he buried his face in his hands, his long fingers digging into raven hair.

Gil-Galad remained silent. He knew that words were not necessary at this point in time. One large hand came to rest on his aide's shoulder, offering the comfort of his presence.

After several long moments, Elrond raised his head. He dragged his hand over his face, as though trying to pull away the strain of the past thirty years. "He never speaks of his choice."

"Perhaps he cannot explain it," Gil-Galad offered. The king squeezed his friend's shoulder once more before pushing himself smoothly to his feet. His eyes were kind as they gazed down at Elrond. "I have spent time with both of you over the past three decades," he said. "I do not understand why he chose as he did, but then, I am an elf. I do not think that he was ever as…elven…as you were."

Elrond's face grew thoughtful at his king's words. It was true. Elros had always been more aligned with the Edain.

"However," Gil-Galad paused for a moment, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyebrows were drawn together in concern for his aide as he pronounced his words with careful deliberation. "I believe that you would be making a very big mistake, if you thought that this was not the most difficult decision he ever made."

The younger elf held his friend's gaze for a moment, then nodded. Gil-Galad gave him one last smile, before departing as soundlessly as he came.

The stars were beginning to shine in the darkness. Constellations took up their ethereal dance, while the moon bathed the earth below in silver light.

He wasn't quite sure how long he sat there listening to the wind through the trees and the song of the stars. The soft sound of someone's step made his ears prick. Whomever it was moved very softly, at least by human standards. Elrond sighed. He had always been able to hear him coming.

"Greetings, my brother." The younger twin's voice was low, as though he wished to keep from disturbing the peace of the night.

Elrond looked up to see Elros approach. "Mae govannen." His stomach clenched at the sight of his brother, followed by a long slow spiral into this toes.

Elros had changed in the past thirty years. Not like the other humans, of course. But time was beginning to trace subtle lines around his mouth and eyes. There was a touch of silver tracing through the raven hair at his temples. A neatly trimmed beard covered the lower half of his face. He was dressed simply, in a tunic and trousers with a sword belted to his side. His hands were rough with labor. This was the kind of king that men could respect. He would not only lead, but join with those who followed him in all their toil.

Elros' mouth curled in a sad smile, as though reading Elrond's thoughts. "The king told me that I might find you here." He still moved with the sure grace of the elves, though he had always been heavier footed. Elrond wondered how much of his elven blood would flow to his descendants. A thousand years from now, would the line of the kings still have pointed ears? Would they see in the dark and step with the lightness of the elves? Would they get sick?

Would they remember Elros as he would?

Always?

Forever?

Elros lowered himself into a sitting position beside his brother. There was silence between the two for a long time. They watched the stars twinkle and dance, revolving around the boat that sailed the night skies withEärendil their sire at its helm; the silmaril bound to his brow. The silence between them was broken gradually, first with the retelling of anecdotes, then their laughter.

For once, it seemed to Elrond that the wall was down, at least temporarily. He consciously pushed tomorrow out of his head, and enjoyed the companionship of his twin.

Dawn was approaching by the time he and Elros fell silent again. The Eastern horizon was beginning to shimmer as the sun rose from her bed.

Elros sighed softly, smiling as the birds in the tree above them woke and began their song. His eyes glanced towards his twin, then down at his hands, where they lay clasped about his knees. "We leave soon, Elrond."

Elrond felt his stomach lurch. "Iston."

Silence. A different silence than before. This silence was one filled with tension. Would he finally speak of his choice?

"Elrond…" Elros turned toward his brother and looked him in the eye. His lips were moving, like he was trying to find the words to say, but no sound was forthcoming.

His face twisted, and Elrond saw what Gil-Galad had tried to tell him. Far from making his choice flippantly, Elros had nearly been torn in two by the weight of his decision. His eyes darkened with pain. The same pain that Elrond felt.

Elros swore suddenly and pounded a fist into the ground. One hand raked his hair back, twisting in the dark strands. His eyes held a wild look in them. Grief, pain, desperation… "Gohena nin."

Elrond's eyes widened in surprise. He felt his jaw drop slightly. His brother was extraordinarily stubborn. He couldn't remember hearing him apologize like this before. And apologize for what? For his choice? No, that wasn't it.

Elros met Elrond's eyes and the elder twin was again surprised to see that Elros' eyes were bright with moisture. The same eyes as his own. Not quite the same. His eyes were gray, and Elros' were more silver.

"Gohena nin, gwanor. An ona le nwalme."

Elros had not spoken elvish in Elrond's hearing since the day he made his choice. He was not apologizing for the choice that he had made, nor was he offering an explanation. And yet Elrond could see for himself that it had not been an easy decision to make.

Would he allow his brother to depart in bitterness?

Elrond nodded slowly. He put his arms around Elros shoulders and drew his brother close, embracing him tightly. "I forgive you," he whispered.

He would bury the hurt and the pain. Bury it so deeply that he hoped it would never come to light again. Holding tightly to his brother, he bundled the chaos of his emotions into a corner of his soul and slammed a lid shut over them. He knew that they would be there waiting for him, someday.

After all, he thought with bitterness for the first time in his life, I am going to live forever.

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Elros decision to be human had unraveled a large part of Elrond's life. The brilliant color that had been his close companion, the other half of himself was slowly pulled farther and farther away. Elrond had watched his brother age; had felt it deep in his soul when the king drew his last breath. Forever had not gone according to his plans. Nothing had gone according to his plans. Forever was supposed to include Elros, but Elros had chosen the bitter gift given to men. The pain had never truly died over the many years. Dulled, definitely. He would still see something, think of something, hear a snatch of song or verse and smile to himself; imagining Elros' expression when he told him…then he recalled that he would never see Elros again. Never hear his laugh. Never speak with him in earnest conversation, nor clasp hand with his brother. Elros was gone; his body decayed to nothing, his grave lost forever beneath the sea. Then the dull ache would flare to searing pain.

What had once been closely knit brilliance was now shreds.

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Hir nin-my lord

Pen neth-young one

Mae govannen-well met

Na es gwanor lin?-Is it your brother?

Gohena nin-forgive me

Gohena nin, gwanor. An ona le me, brother. For giving you pain/torment.

Iston-I know

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Okay, there you go. One incredibly sad chapter. Poor Elrond. Next chapter should be up within a week! Thank you all for reading, and I love reviews. Really. I do. Did I mention that I love reviews? Cause I do. Really. :)