"No, " Elrohir breathed, "you cannot ask this of us."

"We're here, " Elladan all but spat, "you cannot stop us now."

Arwen said nothing, heart pounding furiously in her chest as she looked between Ada, Nana and the twins.

Elladan's fists were clenched, Elrohir had a restraining hand on his shoulder, but his tense posture gave away his own anger. Glorfindel and Erestor were leaning against a wall, faces half shrouded in shadow, though the grudging acceptance on the former's face was clear to see.

The line of Ada's mouth was firm, and to anyone else he looked determined, stern and unmovable, but his eyes glistened with pain and his hands were clenched so tightly.

She turned away, a shiver of fear running down her.

No.

This was too soon.

This was too abrupt.

She was not ready.

You will not go to the docks tomorrow.

"This... you should make the most of this, " was all Ada managed before he swept out of the room, closely followed by Glorfindel. Erestor cast a warning glance at Elrohir who made to go after Ada, and at Elladan whose eyes were burning with fury, before leaving himself.

Nana sat there, a small, sad smile on her face as they watched the twins cast a worried glance at Nana before rushing out of the room, no doubt to attempt to dissuade Ada against this course of action.

Arwen's heart broke as her eyes met Nana's, and in an instant she had thrown herself into those thin arms that had seemed so weak but now wrapped themselves around her so strongly

There she stayed, breathing in Nana's scent and not caring about the world.

The tears that fell onto their shoulders said everything.


"Why, " Elrohir gripped Elladan's shoulder tightly, restraining his twin who looked just about ready to jump on their father, "at least give us a reason, Adar."

"I... " Adar's eyes widened slightly, as his voice betrayed him and he shook his head firmly, "You cannot sway me in this decision, Elrohir, what use is there in knowing the reason?"

"Because this is ridiculous!" Elladan shook his hand off roughly, taking an aggressive step forward towards their father, "Because we are here, and Naneth is leaving, and you will not let us see her for the last time, that's why!"

"You can see her now, and you will see her in the morning. All I forbid is for you to go to the docks with us."

Elrohir could see that whatever cracks they could have tried to use to change Adar's mind were quickly disappearing as their father gathered and collected himself.

"This is final, Elladan, "his voice was stern and firm now, and Elrohir saw that his brother had also recognized this as a losing battle.

He was, however, unprepared to see his twin's face twist into a hurt snarl, "It's selfish to keep her to yourself now, Adar. It's too late for that."

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed, Elrohir heard an intake of air from behind him that could only have been Erestor, and a flicker of pain crossed over Adar's face.

He suddenly looked incredibly weary.

The air stilled around them, and for a moment they saw the war waging behind his eyes. Elladan said nothing, but suddenly turned to leave, catching Elrohir a little by surprise as he made to follow.

The silence broken only by their footsteps hurt, and then they heard a pained whisper.

Elladan slowed but did not turn. Elrohir stopped, turning.

"I cannot lose you, " Adar's voice floated down the hallway, his thin form (when had he gotten so thin?) silhouetted in the moonlight.

"You are right, Elladan. This is incredibly selfish of me, but I cannot lose you as well."

Elladan paused for a moment, almost as if frozen in place, before he dashed away, running through corridors that he was far too old to be running through, running away from the problems he was too big to be running away from.

Elrohir's gaze flicked between the two just long enough to catch the hurt in Adar's eyes before he took off after his twin.


Neither of them slept.

Elladan was curled up on a branch outside their window, staring at the stars, idly flipping the hunting knife they had both received for their twentieth birthdays those hundreds of years ago. He had not spoken all evening, but there was nothing that he needed to say - the frustration and agitation rolled off him in waves.

Even the trees had stopped attempting to speak to him.

Elrohir leant on the banister and let the land breeze tickle, let the voices of the trees wash over him.

Their room was one of the few that had no view of the sea - he suspected, no, he knew that Arwen's was the same.

Arwen. She had been the only one of them three to stay with Naneth this night. A small seed of guilt began to grow in his heart.

He should have stayed. There was so little time left, and what had they done but hurt Adar and not spent time with Naneth?

Time. How often in their younger days (Hah, Glorfindel would have a fit listening to them say 'younger days') had they wished that days would pass faster, that time would flow quicker, that things would be over? And now here he was wishing that this day would never end, that tomorrow would never come.

No. It was too late to think of that now. He had not stayed when he should have, and thinking about it now did him no good.

He shook his head, as if to clear it of such thoughts, and Elladan turned to look at him.

What is it?

He shook his head again, but those eyes watched him, and Elladan always knew, anyway.

We should have stayed.

Elladan closed his eyes and turned away. The stars, partially obscured by a few wisps of cloud, said nothing.

Elrohir sighed, laying his head on his arms, closing his eyes and letting the wind wrap its arms around him once more. The trees whispered soft words into his ears, words of calm and sadness, of peace and partings.

There was a soft scraping noise and his eyes flew open.

Elladan's knife had embedded itself in the gap in the flagstones by his feet.

His eyes met Elladan's in an unspoken question.

You were right. We should have stayed.

Elrohir said nothing but moved over to join his twin on the branch. Elladan raised an almost incredulous, almost amused eyebrow, but drew his knees in to give his twin some space.

It was a few minutes of jostling and awkward elbows in awkward spaces before they settled into an almost comfortable position, the tree branch beneath them bending a little further than it should.

The trees tried to complain, but neither was in the mood to listen to them.

The silence wrapped around them.

I am sorry.

It is not me you need to apologize to, brother.