A Father's Torment

by Gwedhiel

*canonical gap-filler* Elrond thinks about his sons as he stands on his balcony, waiting once more. Will the twins' eyes ever be opened to their father's agony? *under heavy revision*

4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own none of Tolkien's works, characters, books, movies, etc. I only own the plot, Celadon, and Huradel.

A/N: This is it! The final chapter. I apologize for posting this a lot later than I intended. It took a bit longer to write (since it's a bit more complicated) but it's been too long to get this up. So I apologize ten times over. No one deserves to wait that long. And I hope you enjoy the conclusion!

And if you so please, feel free to go to my profile to read my little note I wrote about my take on Elrond's twin sons. There are just some takes on characters that need to be explained.

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Chapter 4

He sat there. He sat there and sat there and sat there. He sat there for so long that he lost track of time. Who knew how many hours had past? Who knew how long he had ended up sitting on that hard wood chair, hearing nothing but the silence of the healing ward and the occasional flick of a book page behind him from the other healer on duty? How long had it been since the Sun started setting? How much longer would he be there before he passed out?

All these questions might have run through an observer's mind, but Elrond didn't care. He sat there between his sons, who were both asleep, as he held Elrohir's hand in his. Constantly, a slow, small, steady stream of his strength poured out of him and into his youngest son's body. It was a rate so slow that he could barely feel it, but he knew he would later. Probably as soon as he stood up. But if it meant that his son was healing, then it was worth it.

He remembered when times were so uncomplicated. Oh, how he wished he could go back to those days. By the Valar, he would give anything to see his sons bring to fruition another one of their ideas, ideas in which something had always gone wrong. He gave a small smile at that; never in his life did he ever believe that he would one day wish for his sons to revert to the mischievous children that, at times, made him want to pull his hair out of his head. But alas, that day was here. Just to see a glimpse of whom his sons were before they became these shadows…to see them laugh hysterically at the good-natured annoyance for themselves from another…preferably from Glorfindel. Yes, he mused. Glorfindel made an excellent target.

He remembered when they were children, running in the hall, only to run faster when Erestor came in sight so they wouldn't get told off for not walking. He gave a fond smile as he remembered one incident concerning the twins and Legolas. It had been one of those rare times when the twins' prank had actually failed, only because he had caught them red handed before they could even start it. It had been one of those late nights when he had been working in the healing wing and he had to go down to the storage room to retrieve more basic supplies, which meant he had to bypass the kitchens. Apparently it had been one of those nights the twins and Legolas had decided to raid the kitchens. And as he had walked down the hallway, he had heard the voices that could only mean trouble and had slowed down, suspicion written all over him.

He knew the kitchen was occupied. A light could be seen flickering beneath the door, but if that didn't convince him the snickering and over-confident voices of his two children did, just past the cusp of adulthood. He could hear movement inside and, to his surprise, Legolas' voice. But what surprised him more was that the young prince appeared to be trying to dissuade the twins. He leant in closer, not carrying if he looked like a juvenile eavesdropper.

"Tell me you are jesting," Legolas said, his voice taking that disbelieving tone that practically screamed 'what, do you think I am stupid?'

"What are you griping about now?" As hard as it was to differentiate, he knew that was Elladan's voice.

"You cannot actually believe that is going to work," Legolas stated with a laugh. Elrond edged around so he could peak through the crack in the door. Legolas sat at the table, looking at the twins as though they were currently the most stupid beings in Middle-earth.

"What do you mean it is not going to work?" Elrohir demanded vehemently, almost looking offended. "It worked the last time."

"The last time, it was in 'my' home where 'my' people are not use to or prepared to deal with your...amusements." He attempted to say it harshly, but he sparkle in his eyes along with the twitching smile ruined the affect.

"But," Elladan said with a smile, "this will be completely different. And if you pull it off right, he will not even suspect you." He paused. "Or us, more importantly."

"Glorfindel and Erestor are not the most foolish beings in Middle-earth," he said defensively, though he didn't know why he was protesting so much. "Even if you manage to make it look like the other's fault, the first people they are going to look at are you two. And do not omit the fact that if this goes wrong, your father will be furious."

Elrond raised his eyebrow at that and pursed his lips rather intrigued. This idea must be impressive indeed if it could cause him to get furious for what was done do his two closest advisors and friends. Usually it was hard enough just to refrain from laughing.

"Oh please," Elladan said dismissively with a laugh. "One of them would already be the scapegoat. If Ada got involved in this, he would just point to one of them. Though it would be hard trying not to laugh at that, too."

Elrond raised both his eyebrows at this, speechless. His sons were actually trying to deliberately make him the brunt of one of their plans, even if he were to 'accidentally' become involved? How could they? He gave a sly smile as he now understood what they meant by him becoming furious. He would, and then he would laugh at that, too. Though he be damned if his sons found out about that. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms as he continued to listen, surprised by how dubious his sons and their friend were with his presence.

"Do not worry you paranoid princeling," Elrohir said teasingly. "We have been planning this too hard for too long. And your arrival just makes it easier."

"Aye," Elladan agreed with a laugh. "But Elrohir's right. Do not worry, you child. Where is your sense of fun? Trust me; you will be laughing along with us wondering what you were so worried about. This will be pulled off perfectly, and when it does you will be kissing the ground we walk on."

"Yes, and you will be looking up at it from the other side," he said meaningfully.

Elladan sighed dramatically and looked to his brother. "Elrohir, when did our young friend become so doubtful with us?"

"I know not, muindor," he said in mock despair. "Considering all we have done for him, he should be helping us. Especially after we covered for him after he knocked down that shelving unit of medical supplies –"

Legolas stood, pointing an accusing finger at them. "Do not dare blame that on me! I saw you two knock over the shelf only to blame me just because you could, just to end up telling some preposterous story to Lord Elrond to convince him that it was a complete accident."

Elrond felt his jaw drop. They did that? It had taken them a week to clean up that mess. And he had believed that 'preposterous' story! Oh, they were in trouble now.

Elrohir nodded slowly, speaking as though dealing with an inept child. "Yes, Legolas," he said, enunciating each word, "and we got you out of it."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Do what you want, but leave me out of this. Lord Elrond is too smart to be fooled that much."

Elrohir dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Whatever," he said as he turned towards the door. "The night grows late, and maybe you will change your mind in the morning after a good night's sleep."

Elrond made sure to have in place a triumphant, knowing, gleaming yet dangerous glare that practically screamed 'you are dead' when the door was finally opened.

He gave a small laugh as he remembered how his son had screamed, literally screamed, at the sight of his ada. And he had to stop an amused smile from breaking through as his youngest son, the one who could always talk himself out of any situation, stuttered mindlessly. Elladan had fared no better, looking like a startled deer, but Legolas hadn't been able to stop laughing. That had been a night to remember. And he had enjoyed telling Glorfindel and Erestor about it the next day, who had then had spent the rest of the week giving dangerous glares to the twins.

Elrond sighed. If only times could be like that once again. He missed the sons who always gave that carefree laugh, smiling without restraint, that simple gesture bringing a smile to anyone in close proximity. The joy and happiness of the twins were infectious. It simply radiated from them. Or use to, he thought dolefully.

Without realize it, he had begun to tenderly rub his thumb along the back of his son's hand as more and more pleasant memories raced through his mind. What he wouldn't do to see his sons like that again. Just to have them be free of pain and sorrow. How often had he vainly prayed to the Valar for them to be free of it? To simply let him have it? He was not unaccustomed to grief. What was a little more to bear? But nothing worked. But at least he was blessed with the joy of holding them one last time before they went off again. Because of that, he knew that the Valar still cared. And he knew that, deep down, it was because of that close comfort that he didn't fade. His sight was then invaded by another memory of when they were precious toddlers, so small and just learning to walk as they attempted to make their way from their mother into his open arms, the finish line, knowing that they would get tickled and doted upon by ada as a reward. His eyes were out of focus as he continued to walk down memory lane. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize that Elladan was awake.

And Elladan didn't want him to realize that. He just laid there, not moving a muscle, and watched his ada, seeing him in a way he never had before; vulnerable. And it tore him apart relentlessly to know that he and his brother were the cause of the deep despair found in Elrond's eyes. He knew their ada would deny it, just to prevent them from feeling that guilt, but how many times had that been done in the past? How many tears fell when their backs were turned? He felt tears prick his eyes as he conjured a picture of his ada, standing in the courtyard, silently watching them ride away on another Orc hunt, the fear of wondering if they'll ever come home radiating from him. How could they unknowingly put him through that? If possible, his love for his ada grew even more.

The doors to the healing wing flew open.

Elladan watched a little wide-eyed as Glorfindel stormed into the healing room and swiftly yanked Elrond to his feet before the Elf-lord knew what was happening.

"I told you not to drain yourself and what are you doing? Draining yourself," he grumbled, sounding completely fed up. "You are leaving the healing wing and do not dare come back until I say so!" And before Elrond knew what was happening he was, literally, dragged from the healing wing.

Elladan gave a small laugh as he watched his father's shocked eyes disappear around the door, reality catching up to him. He must really be tired. And sure enough, a few seconds later, he heard them arguing down the hall, their voices becoming more and more distant and Elladan could only assume that the Seneschal was still dragging him along while arguing.

He became solemn once again as he turned to look at his little brother. Watching Elrond care for Elrohir brought about a massive realization to him as he recalled what Glorfindel had told him during their talk. Take everything you just said and know that that is exactly how your father feels, if not more. And he did. While he had watched Elrohir undertake another massive treatment for his infection, he had felt terrified…horrified. Watching his brother being unable to breathe had made his heart pound in his chest. Fear that couldn't be put into words just overwhelmed him and a despair like any other had swallowed him whole, if only for a few seconds. He thought about all the emotions that had run through him. So…is it like what Glorfindel had said? Is that how his ada felt? The thought that he did made him sick. He sighed as he believed that he finally understood a sliver of what his father has been feeling.

"El...dan?"

He whipped his head around, joy overwhelming him as he looked into his twin's grey eyes.

"Elrohir, you are awake!" He couldn't stop the wide grin from splitting his face.

Before another word could be uttered, however, Celadon was standing before them both, a cup in both hands.

"It is good to see you awake, Elrohir," he said with a fond smile. "How are you feeling?"

He rolled his eyes, the exhaustion evident. "I am fine."

Celadon rolled his eyes. "The truth would be appreciated. I have heard that line only one too many times from the prince of Mirkwood and other young ones." He held out one of the cups to him. "This is for the pain you are feeling." Elrohir's eyes narrowed stubbornly, his clenched jaw speaking for itself. "It will not make you sleep. It is just to take the pain away and to further your healing. And you," he said, turning to the older smirking twin, "you will drink this water right now. You heard Lord Elrond, so you have no excuse not to." He held out the other cup to him.

Elladan sighed. "Could you give us some privacy for a little while?"

Celadon glared right back. "Only if I am walking away with two empty cups." He emphasized his point by thrusting the cups towards them again. He hid a smile at the identical looks of disgust as they took their assigned drink. Elrohir, because medicine was just naturally disgusting and Elladan, because he knew this was only a hint of the amount of water he would be drinking. Quickly they drained them, Celadon taking them back with a triumphant smirk.

"If you need anything, I will be in the apothecary," he said. He took his book and exited the room.

Elladan turned back to his little brother. "Seriously, Elrohir, how are you feeling?"

"Seriously…" he sighed with a pause. "We need to stop ending up in the healing wing. It is becoming an old habit." He looked at Elladan, brow furrowed. "What exactly happened? The last thing I remember is killing that Orc, turning around to find you, running towards you when I did…and that is it."

Elladan sighed, eyes clouded with memory. "If you remember, you took a wound to your leg. The rate you were going, I am guessing that poison pumped pretty quickly through your system and you passed out shortly afterwards. But worry not," he said as he saw Elrohir's eyes flash in panic, "there were only a few Orcs left and they were taken care of pretty quickly. So then I got you home as quickly as possible."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow, looking unerringly like his father for a moment. "That explains why I am in the healing wing, but it does not in the slightest explain why you are."

Elladan shrugged nonchalantly. "They said I lost too much blood," he said casually.

"He collapsed as soon as you arrived!" came the voice from the adjoining room.

"Go away!" Elladan shouted back. In response, the door to the apothecary slid shut.

"Collapsed, did you?" Elrohir repeated with a smirk. "Tell me, how many wounds do you carry this time?"

"They are only scratches," he reassured impatiently. Elrohir looked at him doubtfully. "Oh spare me, muindor, I have already woken three times now and am well on the way to healing. Do not worry about it. I am fine."

Elrohir rolled his eyes but made no comment.

"How is your leg doing?" he asked.

"How do you think it is doing?" he replied. "It is a little painful at the most, but the tea is already working." He looked and Elladan meaningfully. "Now what is bothering you, muindor? I can sense your distress, even though you try to hide it behind a smile."

Elladan looked down at his lap, taking a deep breath. "We need to talk." Elrohir waited as he took another deep breath. "It is about Ada."

"What about him?" he asked in a low voice. "He did not drain himself again, did he?"

He shrugged. "I am presuming he did. Glorfindel just came in here moments before you woke and literally dragged him from the room, stating that he did. He was so lost in thought that I doubt he realized what happened until he was in the hall."

Elrohir frowned. "Did he not know you were awake?"

Elladan closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I did not want him to know I was," he said quietly.

"Why?" Elrohir was shocked when he saw the tears glisten his brother's eyes as he raised his head.

He gestured helplessly. "As you have probably guessed, he has spent most of his strength healing you and I guess he did pass out at one point. And while he was sleeping, Glorfindel came in to speak with me."

For the next half hour Elladan recounted every detail of the conversation he had with Glorfindel, trying to retain his sense of calm in a lot of places. Recounting was a lot more difficult than he thought it would be. It all served to be a huge reminder of what he was falling apart about. Elrohir remained impassive throughout the telling, not speaking a word. No assumption could be extracted from his blank expression, but his eyes hid nothing. Everything Elladan had felt, every thought he had perceived, every ounce of guilt, every degree of shame, every bit of anguish…it was all mirrored in Elrohir's eyes. And at long last, Elladan finally finished, falling completely silent, having to take a deep breath to regain control over his emotions. It had been difficult retelling it. But to his satisfaction, he had managed to restrain his tears, despite Glorfindel's opinion with them. He watched Elrohir mutely, patiently waiting for him to sort through everything that he had been told. But as the minutes passed, he felt his heart become heavier. Through their bond, he was able to feel Elrohir's whole being sink like a ship, falling deeper and drowning in sentiments and heartbreak that felt so similar to his own. He felt despair well up in him, the type of despair that brings a sharp pain to your chest, making you want to double over, clutching it. But Elladan watched his eyes. They were dilated, staring out into the distance, seeing nothing as steady tears fell from them in a constant stream. His breathing came faster as he clenched his jaw, trying to keep it from shaking.

"How could he believe that?" He whispered it so quietly that Elladan had to strain his ears to hear him. "How in the world could he possibly believe that?"

"Well, if you think about it," Elladan mumbled, "we never gave him much incentive to believe otherwise."

"But how could he?" he whispered incredulously. "How could he?" The question repeated itself in his head like a mantra, the question no one had ever been able to answer. He bowed his head in his hand, not even bothering to wipe away the relentless tears. "Ai, Elladan, what have we done?" His ada…his beloved ada…why?

The elder twin shook his head, eyes becoming heavier with unshed tears. "I know not." He had lost count how many times he had asked himself that very question.

Elrohir's breathing became more ragged. "And we saw it…but he…every time," he mumbled mindlessly. And finally, he broke. "Oh, Valar…Ada." He doubled over, gulping for air as sobs racked his frame. He couldn't hold it back. Elladan leaned over the small space between their beds and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, but still maintaining his silence. He knew he didn't have to say anything.

Elrohir wanted to die. Never had he felt such a shame well up in him. How could they do that to their own father? And why did his ada put up with it? Because he loves you said that relentless second-hand voice that every conscience had. But those words only made him feel worse, even though he knew they were true. It was so simple. Yet how could such simplicity be so complicated? His ada loved them. And he had proven it over and over again. Inside he wanted to scream, to scream out his frustration with life and the unfairness of it, the unfairness of what their nana had to go through and now what their ada had to endure. But more than anything, he wanted to scream out the rage he felt towards himself, for letting it go too far without realizing it, for being so selfish and blind and insensitive to what their own ada needed and felt. Valar, he loved his ada so much that to learn what they had done to him grinded his heart only to tear it apart.

Elladan squeezed his shoulder in understanding before releasing him. "Iston, muindor nín," he said softly. "Ever since…I cannot even look him in the eye now without feeling that guilt."

"That self-hatred," Elrohir grounded out.

"That regret," Elladan finished with a whisper.

Silence fell again and after a few more minutes Elrohir managed to regain some control. "Elladan, what do we do now? I do not want to cause Ada pain. I would rather take it upon myself tenfold." He shook his head. "But every time I remember Nana I cannot help the hatred that fills me."

"I know, Elrohir, I know," he said calmly. "I have had many hours to dwell upon this and I still cannot come to any conclusion. All I knew is that I had to discuss it with you first."

Elrohir sighed despairingly. "What is there to discuss? How could we possibly stop feeling like this?"

Elladan gave a wane little shrug. "Glorfindel said that we needed to find peace."

"But what peace can be found?" He wasn't really arguing. He was just asking the questions that they desperately needed answers to, hoping that merely discussing them would bring about an answer. "As much content as peace may bring, it obviously cannot be the start of healing if Glorfindel turned away from it."

Elladan turned to him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I am not speaking out against him. He has my admiration and respect as any other." He gave another helpless gesture. "But if he is telling us that we should always look for peace, why did he turn away from it in the first place?"

Elladan fell silent as he considered it; that was a good question.

Elrohir looked up through blurred vision, a sudden thought occurring to him. "Elladan, you said that Glorfindel just now told you all this?" His twin nodded. Elrohir threw up his hands, disbelieving confusion radiating from him. "Then why have we not been told this before?" This time, he did furiously wipe away the tears. "If Ada has been suffering this for this long, why did not anybody bother to say anything?"

"We did."

The twins' heads snapped around to the entrance to find Erestor standing in the doorframe, elegantly poised as ever. His face wore a blank mask, but his eyes shown with the worry and intrigue, and also a hint of appreciation, though for what they didn't know.

"What do you mean you did?" Elladan asked quietly.

Erestor walked between their beds and sat on Elladan's. He gave a small smile to Elrohir. "It is good to see you awake, penneth. We were worried about you for a while there."

Elrohir gave a small smile back. "Well, as can be expected, I am doing better. I am glad to be awake finally though." He cocked his head. "What are you doing here? It is not normal for you to show up in the healing wing out of nowhere."

The twins suppressed their smiles as an irritated frown passed over Erestor's face as he rolled his eyes. He sighed and then spoke with barely concealed patience. "I am here to check on the two of you," he said with forced amiability, also with a forced smile, "and then I am to report back to your father if you are well. He refuses to calm down until told so."

Elladan gave a fond smile. "Where is Ada?"

"He is with Glorfindel," Erestor said, "who in turn is trying to persuade my lord to get ready for bed and get a good night's sleep. There would be no doubt that he would pass out in here again if it were otherwise." He grabbed Elladan's hand and squeezed it lightly. "It is a relief to see the two of you awake. Though I hesitate to tell your father that because then he will just be right back here in a heartbeat."

The twins gave a small chuckle before Elladan fell serious. "What did you mean by 'we did'?"

Erestor looked at him knowingly. "You asked why we did not bother saying anything to the two of you," he said calmly, with an underlying fondness. "But we did, in our own way with our own words." He sighed. "I just think in the light of what you had experienced and were going through you did not have the heart to listen, which we all understood."

Elladan shook his head, disbelief shining in his eyes. "When it is involving us alone, yes, your silence is understandable," he argued. "But not when it is causing our father unnecessary pain. Why did you not tell us we were doing that?"

Erestor sighed, trying to hide his grimace. "Not everyone knew of his pain, Elrondionnath," he said gently. "Those who thought they saw it, in their ignorance, they simply associated it to be the grief he held for the departure of the Lady Celebrían. But for the pain you speak of, that you caused" – there was no hiding it – "only a few of us were aware of it. But those that Elrond knew were aware of it were Glorfindel and me…thanks to their friendship, Thranduil eventually…and your grandparents. At least, that's all I am aware of."

Elladan and Elrohir waited patiently as their old tutor fell silent. They could tell how reluctant he was to speak of this. Why, they did not know. It only just looked like the counselor wished to be discussing anything but this…or at least be in a different room.

"Then why did not you tell us?" Elladan demanded, still unable to hide some of his anger, though it was mostly still directed at himself. "If you cared for him so much then why did any of you not tell us?"

Erestor gave a small shake of his head. "You father told us not to."

The twins were struck speechless. Whatever answer they had been expecting, it had not been that. When the shock faded down, they didn't think they had ever been this dumbfounded.

"Why would he tell you that?" Elrohir asked quietly.

Erestor gave a small shrug. He too looked confused, though right now he looked more resigned than confused, as though he had asked that very question countless times over the centuries but gave up hope of ever gaining the answer.

"I know not," he said simply. "Your father has never told us. We simply learned to respect his request, as difficult as it was to follow."

"Does Daernana know?" Elladan asked. She had the gift of foresight also, as well as the ability to mind-speak. She's powerful, perhaps –

"No Elladan," Erestor said firmly. "As wonderful as Lady Galadriel is, she is no Maia who has the ability to perceive. She would never be so unloving as to invade your father's mind without his consent. Even if she thought it was for his own good, your father knows how to block her and you know he is too powerful for her to even break through that wall. She is in the dark as the rest of us." He gave a small smile. "Though if it helps you, we have wanted to tell you of this for centuries, but your father has always stopped us."

"But why?" he said hopelessly.

Erestor shrugged again. "I know not, Elladan. I gave up ever knowing a long time ago."

He closed his eyes tightly. "But why did Ada not tell us?" he grinded out.

"His family is his life," he said gently. "Your father loves his children more than anything in this world. His reasons are his own, and if you want to know them, then I suggest you ask him." Before any more questions could be asked of him, he stood and straightened his robes. "Now if you will excuse me, my lords, I must go inform your father that you two are well before he comes looking for me. And you two had better stay in bed," he warned as he walked to the door.

"Could you send Glorfindel to us?" Elrohir asked before he left.

Erestor turned around. "Of course."

"And could you distract Ada for a little while?" Elladan continued. "We do not want him to come back here yet."

Erestor narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, looking at them with disbelief. "Do you not seem to realize how difficult it is to distract your father when he is worried about the two of you?"

Despite the swarm of painful emotions he was feeling, Elladan managed to pull the pouting lip. "Please?"

Erestor was amazed how a fully grown Elf could still pull off that pathetic pout of a child. Without a word, only a huff that said 'here we go again', he walked out of the healing wing.

"Do not tell him we are awake!" Elladan called after him with a smile. He knew that the advisor's sharp and perceived cold exterior was just his unique way of showing he cared, even if he did sound annoyed. It was rare that he let true sentiment show as he just did, let alone smile.

The twins sat in separate beds silently, neither wanting to discuss what they all just wanted to go away. They felt like children lost in the forest. A dark forest. A dark forest with no light to follow. They felt they were groping in the dark for answers, answers they didn't even know if they wanted to hear. As ever, as they let their thoughts dwell on it, that conflict was warring inside them, the hatred and anger weighing down their souls. But now, the guilt and shame was weighing even more. And it was so much harder to bear.

They were pulled from their thoughts, or, more correctly, their self-loathing, when the golden-haired Elda walked in. And when he saw both twins sitting up in their beds his face lit up with a wide smile.

"Elrohir! Penneth, I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you awake," he said as he sat down in the hard wood chair. "I was not too encouraged when I saw the state you were in when you arrived."

Elrohir rolled his eyes. "You can stop the exaggeration, Glorfindel. I know for a fact that I have arrived a lot worst in the past."

Glorfindel chuckled. "All the same, it made my heart skip a beat." He glanced between the two. "Erestor told me you wanted to see me."

A not-so-quite-comfortable silence fell as Elladan gathered his thoughts. It wasn't that Elrohir couldn't speak for them, he just naturally deferred to his elder brother as the spokesman of the two.

Elladan bowed his head and took a deep breath. "Glorfindel, we would like to ask you something."

Glorfindel chuckled. "You know you two need never to ask my permission to ask me something. Ask away."

Elladan looked to him uncomfortably, unsure of where to begin. Glorfindel saw the look and returned one in concern. "What is it, penneth?"

Elladan sighed. "It is just…it is a question concerning your past and I know how reluctant you are to speak of it."

Glorfindel gave a soft knowing smile. "Elladan, there is a difference between asking for a reason and asking simply to keep me talking so you can fawn over me."

Elladan and Elrohir gave a small smile as he heard the barely disguised disgust in his voice. Apparently there were still some maidens from afar that were yet enchanted by the reborn hero. Then he became serious. "I know that," he said. He bowed his head. "It is just that I do not want to cause you any discomfort."

Glorfindel smiled and leaned back in the chair. "I am not made of glass, penneth. I have handled far worse discomfort that speaking of my past could bring. And if it will aid you in any way possible, then I will gladly speak of it." He gave a disarming smile. "You just go ahead and ask me."

Elladan sighed, raw emotion making it difficult for him to speak. He looked to Elrohir for encouragement and, of course, received an encouraging, yet sad smile. Glorfindel watched them patiently, seeing the slight mist form in Elladan's eyes. He knew the elder twin was trying so hard to maintain that protective, controlled, emotionless façade. Even though he was failing miserably, Glorfindel made no comment. And when Elladan spoke, he could hear the underlying pain in his voice, as each word was strained.

"I have been thinking about what you have said," he said carefully. "Elrohir and I have both been thinking about what you have said. But there is something we do not understand in all you have told me the other day."

Glorfindel cocked his head when Elladan fell silent. "What is that?"

He swallowed and took several deep breaths, closing his eyes and bringing himself back under control. He wouldn't cry. He just wouldn't. "You implied to us that we somehow had to find peace. And we understand what you mean. And this really has nothing to do with what you were telling me, but talking about it with Elrohir just raised a question for us. Elrohir brought it up actually."

"And what is that?"

Elladan looked at him in pure curiosity. "Why are you telling us to find peace when you turned away from it?" He saw Glorfindel's look of confusion and hurried on. "I mean no disrespect. I am not insinuating that you are a hypocrite or doubting your wisdom. We were just wondering why you turned away from it yourself."

If possible, Glorfindel looked even more confused. "I am afraid I do not understand your question."

"We are talking about when you returned to Middle-earth the first time," Elrohir clarified. He looked down and fiddled with the end of his sheets, emanating curiosity mixed with confusion. "You know what peace is," he said. "You have lived in it. You have breathed it. And it is not like you did not desire it. You did not want to stay in Middle-earth obviously, since you traveled with Ingwë and your kin on the Great Journey. You chose to go to Aman when Ingwë spoke of its promises." He paused, pondering what his next words should be. "When you arrived in Valinor, when the Great Journey was over, were you glad that you decided to leave or did you wish you stayed in Middle-earth?"

Glorfindel gave a small smile of amusement. "In the beginning, all I knew was Cuiviénen. There was no Sun, no Moon, simply the stars of Elentári and the livelihood of the Elves. We knew nothing of the Valar in that time, save that they existed thanks to the periodic presence of Oromë." His eyes became clouded as memories flooded his mind. "When the hosts of Aman attacked Utumno, Melkor's fortress, all we could do was stand by and watch. Believe me, we were all glad to see the Valar capture Melkor, but we were paralyzed at the power that the Valar portrayed. It shifted and transformed the land. And after a while, we heard that Manwë had summoned us to Aman."

Elladan and Elrohir listened contently to the story. It wasn't exactly what they were expecting, but they were glad to hear it from Glorfindel's point of view, anyway. And they both were still slightly overawed that Glorfindel was the only person in Imladris, in any realm for that matter, who still occasionally called Morgoth by his real name. No others ever spoke it (aside from Lord Círdan).

Glorfindel shook his head. "I was terrified at the summons. I believe we all were. And none of us knew what to do. All we had seen of the Valar was their wrath and just exactly how wrathful they could become. Save Oromë, of course; he proved to be wonderful through the years." He gave a small laugh. "I doubt that even one Elf wanted to go to Aman. After seeing what the Valar could do we were all filled with dread. We wanted to reject the summons, but there were many arguments about that. What if the Valar saw that as a rejection of them and decided to come after us like they did Melkor? But if we did go, would we be able to bear living amongst beings like that? Arguments broke out, of course, but there was this constant shroud of fear over us. But you know the story; Oromë came to take representatives of each race to see Aman." He gave a fond smile. "I remember how terrified Ingwë was. If I was not just as terrified it would have been rather amusing." He sighed and shifted his position on the hard chair. "But I will not deny it; I was very intrigued by what Ingwë told us when he came back. Anyone could tell that he, Finwë and Elwë were struck dead with awe." He chuckled. "At first, they were barely able to put what they saw in words. It was rather funny. But what he did tell us what very enticing." He narrowed his brow in thought. "That is probably the reason why I agreed to leave. Despite the fact that all of my kin were leaving, it was really the curiosity that persuaded me. What Ingwë described was very intriguing. And that is actually when Oromë gave us the name, calling us the Eldar." He shook his head, shaking himself from those thoughts.

"But anyway," he continued, "arriving in Aman was an experience I could never put into words." He closed his eyes, seeing it before him again. "It is something that cannot be described. The beauty, the peace, the glory of the Two Trees…." He trailed off, and the twins could see a blissful smile touch the sides of his mouth. "To answer your question, no. I had no regrets in my decision to leave. The Hither Lands have their own beauty, of course. Yavanna created both it and Aman, after all. But besides the fact that Melkor twisted a lot of that beauty, Valinor had something that Middle-earth did not…. It was a promise of being free of worry, free of sorrow, free of pain….When I lived there, all I felt was never ending bliss. It was a sensation and a promise of peace I would trade in for nothing." He paused. "I did not miss my birth land. Eventually, we learned of the Valar's love for the Firstborn, and that only made living in Aman all the better." He looked first at Elrohir then Elladan and smiled. "But that does not answer your question about peace. What has my decision to leave for Aman have to do with it?"

Glorfindel expected a small smile, but none came. Elladan furrowed his brow, knowing they were missing a piece of the puzzle. "Then why did you go back? If you found such peace in Valinor, why did you cross the Helcaraxë back into Middle-earth? You knew Morgoth was in power again and it was far from peace. And it is not like you were entitled to go. It was the Noldor that left and you were not beholden to them. Did you decide to go because they were your distant kin?"

He sighed. "It would not be accurate to call them 'distant', Elladan." He gave a resigned, sad sort of smile. "We were sundered from the Noldor."

The twins' eyes widened in shock. "What?" This was something they had never heard.

Glorfindel nodded. "As you know, the Vanyar are known and seen as the High Elves." He looked quizzically at them. "Do you know why we are called that?"

Elladan shook his head but Elrohir looked thoughtful. Glorfindel bit his lip. "As the Ages passed, we Vanyar fell in love with the land of the Valar and the light of the Two Trees. We needed it like air." Glorfindel bowed his head. "Eventually we left the city of Tirion and moved to dwell upon Taniquetil, the mountain of Manwë. Over the years it became known to all kindreds that the Vanyar were the most loved by the Valar, the favored race, if you so please. And during that time and because of certain deeds done, we became sundered from the Noldor."

They looked more confused and perplexed than ever. "Let me understand this," Elrohir said, his mind spinning. "You go to Valinor and find a peace that you would not trade for anything. You moved into the household of Manwë himself with the knowledge that one, you are the most loved by the Valar, and two, you were sundered from the Noldor." Glorfindel nodded. He shook his head incredulously. "Then why in the world did you go back to Middle-earth?"

"You already said it, Elladan," he said calmly, turning back to the elder twin. "It was because they were my kin."

Elladan looked ready to explode, both from confusion and frustration. Glorfindel hurried on before he could to just that. "You are missing one key element, penneth. When Fingolfin went after Fëanor, he asked for his kin to come with him. And most of them did." He held up a finger. "But you forget that Finwë had two wives. After Míriel gave birth to Fëanor she died, due to the toll the birth took on her body. Finwë grieved, but he did remarry, and he was wed to Indis of the Vanyar." He saw their eyes dawn in understanding and he nodded. "That's right. However far distant it was, I was related to Indis. And she gave birth to both Fingolfin and Finarfin. And since both of them were going, it compelled me to go with them since, in a long, stretched, twisted sort of way, I was literally their kin."

Elladan nodded. "I understand that. But then why did any of the other Vanyar not go then? I actually find it hard to believe that such a distant relation, however real, convinced to you leave the peace you found in Valinor, purely for the doings of another Elven race."

Glorfindel sighed. "Remember what I told you, Elladan. I was different in my first life. Though I loved Aman, I did not carry the type of appreciation for it as I do now. Young as she was, your grandmother did not care either when she left."

Elrohir furrowed his brow. "Why did she leave?"

"You will have to ask her, but she simply told me that she just wanted to rule a realm of her own." He shrugged dismissively. "But for me," he continued, "I was still looking for a purpose in life, for lack of better words. That sense of accomplishment that you did something for the good of Elvenkind. I am not talking about gaining praise," he said quickly. "But to know you did something useful against the war with Morgoth. Who knows," he said with a shrug, "maybe I would have been able to do more by remaining in Aman. Or following a different path than the one I chose. But I will never know."

He looked at them, begging them with his eyes to understand. "What I am trying to say is that life does not have guarantees; it has choices. I chose to leave the peace of Aman with the hope that my presence in Middle-earth will have been of greater worth than my presence in Aman. But each choice has its own risks. For me, going to Beleriand meant leaving behind a life of peace, a life of contentment without heartache. But by remaining in Aman, I would have thrown away the chance to fight against the hoards of Morgoth, defending our people." He looked at them knowingly. "Life is just a series of trying to make up your mind. The difficulty of life is in our choices. It is the decision of not only deciding what consequences you can live with, but also if the benefits will exceed those consequences when gained. So basically, will the pain be worth it in the end?"

The twins were silent and he could hardly blame them. He felt guilty himself when seeing the pain in their eyes grow, despite their attempts to hide it. But he knew they just needed one more push. "I know why you two are running from the path to find peace. As I told you, Elladan, the first step is confronting your sorrow and it is usually the hardest. You know that the pain that has been buried so deeply for so long will be brought to the surface. But guess what? You will not be alone. Your father will be there as he always has been.

"Forgive me if my words sound harsh, but here me. You now know fully what Elrond is feeling, at least to the best of our knowledge. But now you need to decide. None of us can make this decision for you; you love your father. You love dealing out your revenge on the Orcs. The question is simple; which love is greater?" He stood from the chair, knowing the twins weren't capable of speaking to him at the moment. He smiled at them compassionately. "You two think about that." With that said, he quietly exited the room.

The twins didn't even mark his absence. The question needn't even be asked. To continue to hunt the Orcs would mean that they would be numb from the pain and gain the satisfaction of avenging their mother. But it also meant the continuation of their ada's undeserving agony. To stay home with Elrond meant for him to be healed from the anguish they caused him, or at least the start of healing, but it also meant that the pain they had buried would come to the surface. But they knew their decision without having to even think about it. They loved their father too much. Just watching him suffer made them suffer. Only an inconceivably selfish person would carry on ignoring the pain it caused his father. And with their eyes alight with their new knowledge, the sons of Elrond could never be so selfish. They already knew in their hearts that they would endure any torment if it meant the wellbeing of their father. No matter the severity of that pain, every ounce of it would be worth it to see their father smile again.

"To continue our hunts would mean to ignore him," Elrohir mumbled.

"And we both know we could never do that," Elladan responded. "But I cannot help but think of Nana. She deserves to be avenged. If we give up our hunts it will feel like we are abandoning her; that we are just tossing aside what was done to her as if saying 'ah well'."

"Do you think that is the peace Glorfindel was talking about?"

Elladan sighed dejectedly. "I know not."

Elrohir bit his lip, tears rimming his eyes. "Ask Ada."

Elladan looked at him, vision blurry. "What do you mean?"

Elrohir swallowed down a sob. "Somehow he managed to deal with it. None of us were able to. We ran before we even tried. Arwen ran to Lothlórien and we disappeared on our hunts…" He took a shuddering breath, "…just at the time Ada needed us the most." He paused. "I cannot walk, but you can. Go ask him. We know he tried to tell us all those times he tried to convince us to stay, but Erestor said it; we never listened to him." His voice had turned into a whisper.

Elladan nodded, pulling the sheets off of him. "I have a few things to ask him, anyway."

O = O = O

The trip down the hallway seemed to last forever. No servants passed and the walls were covered with the shadows cast by the rapidly setting Sun. In the silence, he could hear his own heart beating against his chest. He couldn't understand why he was so nervous. Or maybe afraid. Or just laden with guilt. He didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore. Except for one thing.

He knew why he was nervous to see his ada, one of the people he always found most comfort in. The truth was laid open. How would he be able to face his ada's unconditional love in that room and not break down? He didn't want to lose his rein on his control. He'd been crying like a child all too much these past few days and he didn't want to fall apart in front of his ada now. He was trying to gather up all the nerve he had, which in truth wasn't much, at the moment. Give him Orcs, give him a battle, or give him any type of situation except confronting his father. He could handle anything with a controlled façade and steady persona, but he could never hide anything from his lord and father. Just one look from those powerful eyes always opened him like a book, every page under a magnifying glass. He defenses were torn down and he fell apart. No truth could be hidden from him. And he both loved and hated that fact.

He turned a corner and entered the family wing. The dark double doors to Elrond's chambers, stylized with Elvish intricacy, seemed to loom very large at the moment, growing larger every second. He took a moment to gather his wits before entering his lord's receiving room.

It was a warm space with a homey comfort that made one want to sit and relax. It was a disarming atmosphere, a place where he and his family had spent many nights just sitting in front of the fire. And across the room was the door to the bed chamber…and leaning against it was Erestor reading a book. He couldn't help but smile.

"Trying to evade my ada?" he teased.

"You would, too, if you were in my position," he shot back. He closed the book with a sigh and looked up. "Why are you out of bed?"

He gestured towards the door. "I need to talk with him."

He nodded and made his way to the exit. "If he asks, I tried most valiantly to return you to the healing wing."

Once Elladan was alone, he took a deep, steadying breath, his heart beating all the faster as his hands took on a slight tremble. He could feel the tears building just beneath the service, waiting just for the smallest opportunity, the smallest reason to burst through. Come on, he told himself, get a hold of yourself. You can do this. He released another trembling breath and gave a light knock on the door.

"Minno," came the quiet command.

Elladan entered and shut the door inaudibly behind him. Obviously, Glorfindel's attempts to get Elrond to bed hadn't all been in vain, but not all successful either. The bed covers were turned down, but they certainly weren't occupied. Elrond sat on the cushioned windowsill dressed in his night attire. His hair was unbraided and it looked like he had just been brushing it, if the brush lying limply in his hand made any statement. But he obviously held no interest in that. His solemn gaze was directed out the window towards the silhouette of the Valley cast by the setting Sun, the sky a stretched canvas of arrays of magenta and gold with the rich orange along the silver lining of the clouds. The splendor of the Hidden Valley was like a circle; it had no beginning and no end, just the infinite onslaught of beauty, but Elrond saw none of it. Wherever Elrond's thoughts were, they were not in this room.

Elladan saw all this within a second and as he saw his father within that second, he felt his throat constrict. His father bore the grace of Elven youth, but with how the rays of the Sun were cast through the window and the far-away look in the grey eyes, his chiseled features at this moment looked worn down by age and all the weariness that age brought. It didn't help Elladan right now to know that he was the cause of some of that.

Do not break down, do not break down, do not break down….

The opening of the door hadn't actually been heard, but after sensing another's presence in the room, Elrond turned to look into his eldest son's eyes.

He broke down.

It felt like his whole being had just deflated of air, any resolve he had to maintain his composure gone after those eyes had pierced him, first with calm and then with shock.

"Elladan," he said with a hint of annoyance as he stood, exasperation shining in his eyes, "by the Valar, why are you out of bed?"

Elladan was unable to speak. He could only just stare as his eyes started to well with those accursed tears again! He wished he could just shove that merciless guilt that always insisted on filling him up when he saw his ada into a box and close the lid until this was over. Maybe then his chest wouldn't constrict and he could find his voice and speak like the ellon that he was instead of freezing like a flabbergasted child.

But even in the dimness of the light, Elrond saw the tears and immediately became concerned. "Elladan, what is it?" he asked as he moved forward, fearing it to be Elrohir.

He couldn't help it. He just couldn't. At the sight of his ada moving towards him and seeing the concern in his eyes, he couldn't stop from launching himself into the open arms. And he squeezed him as tightly as he could. And the tears that had been buried beneath the surface finally burst forth as the emotions of the past few days now became overwhelming. After a few moments, which he was sure his father spent looking at him in alarm, he felt his arms encircle him, bringing him comfort as they did countless times in the past. Despite why he was here, he couldn't help but feel like an child again; he stood there crying on his father's shoulder, holding him like a lifeline, as his father held him firmly in return, smoothing his hair and running his hand up and down his back as he waited for his son to calm down. He hadn't done this in centuries.

"Calm down, ion nín," he said quietly. "Just calm down and tell me what is wrong."

It took several more long moments before Elladan was able to regain enough composure to be able to just speak. He withdrew from the embrace and felt his heart twist in his chest when he looked into his father's now more-than-worried gaze. All plans of what he would say were gone.

"Ada, I am sorry," he choked, practically having to breathe the words to get them out fast enough. "I am so sorry. Please, forgive me...so sorry. Ada…."

He practically repeated the same thing like a mantra until the words couldn't be understood anymore, so choked up and mixed with the sobs they were. The alarm in Elrond's eyes grew as his eldest lapsed into the mindless prattling. His eyes were out of focus, proving that his thoughts were totally withdrawn from the here-and-now. He grasped both sides of his son's face and gently shook him back to the present.

"Elladan," he said firmly. He waited until his eyes snapped back in focus and his breathing had calmed down from his panicked breaths. He gently wiped the tears away, beyond worried now. "Elladan, you need to calm down. Come, ion nín, tell me what is the matter."

Elladan took only the briefest spare moment to inwardly roll his eyes at himself, wondering if he'd even cried that much as a child. But that inquiry vanished from his mind as he clenched his jaw, not out of stubbornness or anger, but out of the attempt to not start up with that incredibly childish show of tears again. He took a deep breath and tried to control the tremble in his voice.

"Ada," he started, but had to pause and try again. "Ada, why did not you tell us?" His thoughts were still a little muddled. "Why did not you tell us?" he pleaded.

Elrond stared at him, confusion now mixing in with the worry. Never had he felt so far from reality. "Did not tell you what?"

Elladan shook his head, having to clench his jaw again. "The pain! The pain we caused you! Why have you not told us we were doing this to you? Why?"

Elrond's face drained of all color as the gleam in his eyes dawned in understanding. Silence fell and it was anything but comfortable. They stood there, neither uttering a word, eyes locked; Elladan's begging for answers, for the truth and Elrond's revealing undisguised shock and dread. Never before had he been as rendered speechless as he was at this moment. He honestly did not know what to say. The silence was deafening. His mind was still spinning from this unannounced surprise when he asked the only thing he could think to say.

"Who told you this?" His voice sounded distant, as though he was only asking to stall, but he truly did want to know. Nothing could be deducted from the past centuries to suddenly conjure this conclusion, however true it was. Someone had to have told him.

But Elladan ignored the question. "Is it true?" he implored in the quietest voice. "Have Elrohir and I been causing you pain all this time?" Every contour of his body was pleading with his father for the truth. Never had his eyes shone so much beseeching and even fear to hear the answer. If he were honest with himself, he knew he was actually afraid to hear the answer. At the moment, every ounce of his being was hoping beyond hope that his father would say 'no', and with some vehemence would be nice. Even though he knew Glorfindel spoke the truth, even though he knew himself that he had seen it with his own eyes, a small part of his heart and mind was praying to the Valar that it wasn't true. And if his father said no, then he would believe him, for his father never lied to them. With an inward sigh, he also knew that he would have to believe him if he said yes.

Elrond lowered his eyes with a rather resigned sigh as he stirred his distraught son by his shoulders. "Come sit down, son."

Elladan grabbed Elrond's forearm before he could take two steps back towards the window. Elrond turned to look at his son's fear filled eyes, begging him silently. "Ada, please," he implored quietly, "I need to hear the truth. Is it true?" No more guessing and no more assumptions, he thought. He needed to hear it from his father's own lips. Not from Glorfindel, not from Erestor or anyone else. Only his father.

Elrond sighed again. The truth was laid bare and there was no hiding it, as much as he wanted to. As much as he had been. "Yes."

Even though he'd expected the answer, nothing could have prepared him for the sensation of his whole being brought to utter collapse, the feeling of being drawn by chains into the world of a nightmare that one never wanted to see. It was no longer an assumption; it was confirmed to be a fact. And if he thought that it would make him feel any better, he was utterly wrong. He hadn't thought that he could feel any worse, but he did. And a small part of his mind considered it strange how all this emotional turmoil could become physical, contracting his chest and making him feel numb from the inside out. He couldn't speak. What could one say to a blatant truth, after all? An excuse, a simple apology, a rationalization? No. Maybe to another, but not to one who was so dear to him. He wasn't speechless; he just thought that no words at this point could ever be adequate.

Elrond watched his son's eyes become glazed in their distress, bordering on downright hopelessness, and he sighed inwardly. Elladan's body was taut as a bowstring and he could only guess what was going through his son's mind. This was not a conversation he had ever wanted to have, but at seeing his son's all-too-obvious misery, he knew he couldn't stand by and watch it endure. Not like every other torment his children had to suffer since their mother's departure. Not again. Not now.

He sighed openly this time and gently forced his son towards the window. "Come and sit down, Elladan. Let us discuss this rationally before you come to conclusions that do not exist."

Elladan looked at his father incredulously as he sat down with him. "Conclusions that do not exist? Like what, Ada? The conclusions are so obvious that nothing else could even be assumed about it!"

Elrond lay a placate hand on his shoulder in a silent gesture to calm down. He knew all too well how quickly his son could go off on a tangent to make a point. "Elladan, you are making a big deal out of nothing."

Elladan looked into the tranquility of Elrond's eyes and felt his sorrow grow; he knew a diversionary tactic when he saw one. His father was once again trying to undermine the importance of himself in order to protect his child. At that, Elladan shook his head, astounded at the sacrifice at which he was willing to go through.

"A big deal out of nothing?" he repeated, his voice lowered to a shocked whisper. "Since when is the condition of my father's fëa nothing?"

Elrond gave a small smile, looking at him fondly. "Everyone is subjected to pain time and again, my son. You can stop the realities of life just as much as you can stop the Sun from setting. At some point, we all have to endure the sorrow that time brings."

Elladan stared at his father, bewilderment still pumping through his body like adrenaline. He took that placate hand off his shoulder and shook his head. "Ada, the pain you are speaking of is what every person experiences. The painful, yet small disappointments that not everything is the way you want it." He squeezed the hand. "Ada, the pain you feeling, the paint that we caused is not small. How could you say that it does not matter?"

Elrond sighed, temporarily wondering where his son obtained his stubbornness from. Glorfindel would say from him, but that was just utterly ridiculous. He was an Elf-lord, old and wise, thank you very much. But he knew his son wouldn't give up until he received the answers he was looking for.

"Elladan," he began hesitantly, battling for the right words, "you and Elrohir are dear to me. There is nothing I would not do for you. You know that. Anybody can see the weight of the burdens you bear. Now what kind of father would I be if I added to that, particularly if it is something I am capable of dealing with myself?"

Elladan just looked at him, disbelief and sadness radiating off him. "Mayhap still a good father?" he hinted quietly. "Ada, you are talking about this as though it is something simple. And yet if it was so simple, you would not have hid it from us."

Elrond just looked at his son, for once unable to refute that truth or turn it in a direction more desirable. He didn't know what to say to that, because it was true, right down to the letter.

Hearing his father's silence, Elladan pressed on, the disgust at him and his siblings obvious in his voice. "Ada, we abandoned you when you needed us. We focused so much on our own grief that we did not give yours a second thought. You lost your wife and we should have been the first there to give you comfort. But no. People like Glorfindel and Erestor were left to do that. You stood by and watched us meddle out our own solutions to our pain; double that with your own grief, not to mention guilt, and you say that it is nothing?"

Elrond opened his mouth to speak, but Elladan quickly stopped him and continued in a quiet tone of voice layered with a hint of hurt that he was unaware he was voicing. "Ada, do you think so little of Elrohir and me? Did you think we would have ignored it or turned you away? Did you believe us so selfish that we would let you be swallowed in this torment?"

Elrond looked at him now with a determination and fierceness lighting his eyes as he squeezed the hand unbearably tight. "I want you to listen to me, Elladan. You, your brother and your sister are my life. There is nothing you could do that could make me love you less. You could hate me with every inch of your being and it would change nothing. Anger and grief is dealt with differently by each person. You three are far past your majority. Despite what I thought, it was not my right to tell three adults what to do." Elladan sighed and lowered his head, only for Elrond to tilt it back up again. "I could never think so little of you and Elrohir. I know you both love me and I know that neither of you would have sat idly by if you knew what I was going through. You have too big a heart for that."

Elladan sighed again, the hopelessness showing once again in his eyes. "Then why did you not tell us? Why did you not want us to know?"

Elrond cast his eyes down to his lap. That question had been asked of him so many times by Glorfindel and Erestor that he had lost count. He never answered it before, hence his struggle to find the words for an understandable explanation. Yet as he thought about it, he couldn't hide the fear in his eyes that had resurfaced as it did every day since the first time his sons rode away.

"My son, I will not pretend that you did not scare the life out of me the first time you left to hunt the Orcs, not to mention every time after that," he said calmly. "It was a fear I had never experienced before, that much is true. And neither will I deny that it is a fear I could very well do without. Yes, I lost my wife and the partner of my life. But you lost your mother. Despite my grief, I was not blind to what you, your brother and sister were going through. To this day, I would still give anything to take that pain away from you." He paused and gave another small sigh as the intensity of what he was about to say engulfed him. "You and Elrohir went through such a drastic change, such a difference as black is from white. When you overcame your initial grief, I saw the look in your eyes, the anger and hatred. I let you go the first time, believing it to be a short remedy, a temporary desire to see justice done. But when you stretched it to become centuries…when you came home only to leave again the next day…." Elrond took a deep breath as he fought for composure. "Yes, when I realized that it had become your life's focus to kill every Orc you could find, I did try to stop you, even though you did not want to hear it." He shook his head. "But part of me did not want you to. And that is why I gave up trying to keep you home. Despite what I felt, I wanted to let you go on your hunts if it meant that you would keep coming back to me in some shape or another."

"Ada," Elladan said, horror growing inside him of what this could possibly mean, "what are you…?"

"I was afraid that you would fade," he admitted quietly, voice tight with the terror of it. "You could call it a selfish reason for why I never told you how I felt. I knew that if I did tell you, you would probably stop or something similar and only stay because of me. Your life had become so centered on your revenge that I feared it was the only thing that kept you going each day. That if you stayed home and focused on nothing else but your grief, that grief would have eventually consumed you. So if killing Orcs was the only thing that kept you in Middle-earth, as much as I did not like it, then so be it." He looked at Elladan, a light layer of tears misting his eyes. "Call it as you see it, whether a selfish motive or a coward's way out, but I was willing to do anything to keep you two here. It did not matter how I felt, I was not going to allow you two to fade. I already lost my wife, I was not about to lose my sons as well. I would give myself to Námo before I let that happen."

Elladan was crying, steady tears falling down his cheeks. He couldn't help it. Whatever answer he had been expecting, it hadn't been that. His father thought they would fade, and probably still did! Had he carried that fear all these centuries? Not only the fear of receiving a message that both of them were dead or the fear of them returning with wounds too great for him to heal, but the fear that they would eventually fade if they ever stopped?

Almost unconsciously, he leaned into his father's frame and immediately felt himself engulfed in a warm embrace. "We are not going to fade, Ada," he choked out. "I promise. We are not going to fade." He fell silent, but it was a comfortable silence, as the love he held for his father overwhelmed him. "I wish you had told us, Ada. You did not deserve that." He honestly didn't know what to say.

Neither did Elrond. Though he couldn't express the relief that he felt at hearing those words come out of his mouth. He was still beyond worried and scared for his sons, but that paralyzing, soul-gripping fear that had taken hold of him for centuries was now of a lesser degree, if not gone. He kissed the top of his son's head, glad to be able to hold him close.

"Could you ever forgive us, Ada?" he murmured. "We never meant to do this to you, you have to believe that. Please, forgive us."

Elrond squeezed him lightly and gave a small smile, even though Elladan couldn't see it. "There is nothing to forgive, ion nín. It was my choice to live with it. Nothing is your fault."

Elladan shook his head in his shoulder. "Ada, please…."

Elrond gave a small sigh. Guilt could be so easily misplaced and his sons placed it upon their shoulders so easily and quickly. They first placed the blame on themselves for the attack on their mother, irrational as it was. And the Elf-lord knew without a doubt that now his sons were blaming themselves for what he willingly went through. Elbereth's stars, the reason he never told them was so that they wouldn't blame themselves. Though not one part of him blamed them, he knew in his heart that neither Elladan's nor Elrohir's mind would be appeased unless they believed themselves forgiven for that self-placed guilt.

Elrond rubbed his son's back to get his attention. "All right, ion nín," he said reassuringly, "I forgive you. You know you need not even ask." The short moments passed by as Elrond leisurely coaxed Elladan back into a sitting position. "Are you going to be all right?"

Elladan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Yes, Ada. I truly am sorry. You did not deserve to go through all that."

"It is well, Elladan. Let us put it in the past and leave it there." He grabbed Elladan's hand and made move to stand. "Come; let us get you back to the healing wing. You should not even be out of bed and this conversation is not helping you."

"Wait, Ada," he said. "I need to ask you something and I need the truth." He waited until Elrond was sitting once again. "Ada, do you blame yourself for what Elrohir and I have gone through since Nana's departure?"

Elrond raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, his patience finally spent. "All right, I want to know who told you this, right now. There is no way you could have come to that conclusion out of thin air. Who told you that? Glorfindel? Erestor? Your grandparents?"

Elladan hesitated. He didn't want to get anyone in trouble, even though he was sure that Elrond already suspected who it was. They only did it out of worry and concern for their lord, after all. What could be condemned in that?

He gave a small smile. "Ada, we know you better than you think. And when you think about it, it can be deducted just from observing you." He narrowed his brow in worry. "Ada, we all know that you blame yourself that you could not save Nana. You were able to heal her body but not her fëa. All of Imladris knows how you placed guilt upon yourself for that." He heard Elrond's sigh and quickly rushed on, knowing that this was a topic his father did not want to discuss; it was still too painful. "It was after she left that Elrohir and I began our hunts. And knowing how you saw it as a failure to heal her we can easily see how you would blame yourself for our actions." He looked Elrond in the eye, wishing at the moment that he had that piercing stare that his father had. "Is it true? Do you think yourself at fault for what we do?"

"Elladan –"

"I know you do," he insisted, leaving no room for denial. "Look me in the eye and tell me that it is not true."

Elrond cocked an eyebrow and looked at him challengingly. "Fine. Then you look me in the eye and tell me that you do not feel guilty for not arriving sooner to save your naneth from the attack." Elladan bit his lip and looked away and Elrond gave a small laugh when he saw the stubborn glint in his eyes. "Do not mess with me, ion nín. I have the home field advantage."

Elladan sighed as he looked down at the hand he held in his lap. "It is no fault of yours, Ada. You must believe that," he murmured. But Elrond stayed silent and Elladan knew that his father was adamantly refusing to discuss this. He gave another sigh of defeat. His voice grew quiet and a bit tentative. "Tell us what you told us all those years ago."

Elrond cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

He gave a little, dismissive shrug. "Elrohir and I do want to heal, contrary to what everybody probably believes. We really do." He gnawed at his lip. "We know that you tried to point us in the right direction all those years ago. But we were not listening." This time the shrug was one of complete hopelessness and his voice, small and timid, was echoing with it. "Tell us what to do."

With his other hand Elrond encompassed Elladan's cheek and forced him to make eye contact. "Elladan, grief is never something easy to deal with," he said gently. "You cannot just hear something from me and expect it to go away. It is painful and can and will last for years." He saw Elladan's eyes mist and gave a wan smile, tilting his chin up. "But I will be there for you," he promised, his eyes shining with reassurance. "I will help you get through this, no matter how long it takes. But what you must do is not look at this in the long run." He squeezed the hand and caressed the cheek fondly. "We will take this one day at a time, and I promise both of you that I will be there to help you whenever you need me." He looked pleadingly into his son's eyes. "Do you understand me, Elladan? You will not have to walk alone in this. I will always be there for you."

Elladan gave a quick nod. "I understand, Ada."

Elrond continued to look at him, his grey eyes piercing his son's. "And I want you to promise me something, right here, right now."

Elladan looked at his father suspiciously. "What?"

"That whenever you need something, whether it would be help or guidance or comfort or company or someone to talk to, anything, I want you to promise that you will come to me." He waited for an answer but when none came he sighed with affection. "I know that as the eldest you feel that you need to be strong for your brother and sister. And you certainly have been. But there is no shame in admitting that you need help. Grief is meant to be released, not to be kept inside. All of Imladris is willing to help you two. They all worry. Glorfindel is there. Erestor is there. And I will always be there for you. Do you understand me?"

Elladan gave a fond smile and grabbed the hand holding his cheek, now holding both. "Yes, Ada, I understand." He saw Elrond look at him meaningfully and he sighed with a hint of amusement. "And I promise that I will come to you when I need to."

Elrond smiled back. "Good." He pulled Elladan to his feet. "Now let us get you back to the healing wing."

But before they could move anywhere Elladan engulfed him in another hug, but instead of it being one of despair and apology, it was fully laced with all the affection and love the eldest son could put in it. Elrond gave a small smile as he rested his cheek against his son's head and they simply stood there.

"I miss her," Elladan murmured quietly.

Elrond rubbed comforting circles on his back. "So do I, ion nín, so do I. Nothing will bring her back, but you can take comfort in knowing that she is now at peace. She loves you, and it would break her heart if she saw you like this." Even though he knew he would see his wife again in the Blessed Realm, he didn't dare mention to Elladan that she would be waiting on the white shores. His children had yet to make their choice and he would say nothing that would influence their decision, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew his heart would break should any of his children choose the mortal life, but that decision was not his.

Elladan sighed. "I love you, Ada."

He kissed the side of his son's head. "And I you, my son. Come now. Let us get you back to the healing wing. You look as if you are about to collapse." He walked out into the receiving room with his arm around his son's shoulders. "Where did that pesky advisor of mine run off to? He was guarding my door like a hawk."

"Ah," he smiled. "Erestor told me to say that he tried most valiantly to return me to the healing wing if you asked."

"Mm," he grumbled. The stepped out into the shadowed hallway and out of the corner of his eye he spied a golden-haired figure hiding in a nearby darkened area of the corridor. He turned his attention back to Elladan. "You go ahead of me, son. I will be there soon and when I get there I had better see you in bed and drinking plenty of water."

Elladan rolled his eyes with a small laugh and did as he was bidden to. Elrond watched him go and only turned towards the Elda when his son was out of hearing range. He shook his head condemningly, but it was ruined by the smile on his face. "You really do not know how to keep your mouth shut, do you?"

Glorfindel shrugged and stepped out from the shadows. "All due respect, when it is concerning the state of your fëa, your orders really do not count." He leisurely stepped closer. "You had us all worried, Elrond. Though I partly understood why you refused to tell your sons, neither Erestor nor I could watch you go one for one more day like this." He pointed meaningfully at his lord. "And that smile you just gave me? I have not seen you smile like that in a long time."

Elrond smiled again as he nodded in understanding. Though he still felt weighed down, it had been a long time since his spirit had felt so light. He cocked his eyebrow in amusement. "Erestor was involved in this?"

Glorfindel snorted as though the answer was obvious. "Of course he was. Do you think he would willingly drive you out of your mind when you are this worried about your sons?"

Elrond gave a small laugh. "No, he would not. Only someone insane would dare to." He narrowed his eyes. "Why, then, did you not bother to distract me?"

The Elda gave a wry smile. "Because I am not stupid. I prefer to keep my head where it is."

Elrond sighed and blinked tiredly, exhaustion overcoming him once again. "You are a good friend, Glorfindel. Both you and Erestor are."

Glorfindel smiled. "You are important to us, my lord. Never forget that." He then took on an ignorant aura that just radiated smugness. "And in case you are interested, I just thought you may like to know that Elrohir is awake."

Elrond's eyes widened first in shock and then in mock indignation. "Why did not you tell me?"

Before Glorfindel could answer, Elrond was already rushing down the hall with the Elda's laughter ringing in his ears.

When he arrived at the healing wing it was to find the twins silently conversing, Elladan safely in bed with a glass of water that looked to be resolutely ignored. But he let that slide when he saw his youngest son and a bright smile lit his face.

"Elrohir," he said as he walked in. "I am so happy to see you awake!"

Elrohir smiled back, his eyes glazed with fatigue but happy none-the-less. "Yes, Ada, I am awake and before you ask, I am well."

"And once again, I do not believe you," he responded as he sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand in his. "Now you can either tell me how your leg is doing, or I can remove the bandages and find out myself."

Elrohir shrugged. "It is feeling better. But thanks to the medicine Celadon forced down my throat, it only hurts a little. It does not even bother me."

"I am glad to hear that," he said. "Though if you think you will be walking any time soon, you have another thing coming."

Elrohir nodded but then became serious. "Elladan told me everything that you two discussed and…" he took a deep breath, "…in case you have not come to the conclusion already, Elladan and I will be staying home."

Elrond was silent, glancing between them both as a hopeful feeling blossomed in his chest. "What do you mean when you say you will be staying home?"

Elrohir gave a wistful smile. "We will not be going on anymore hunts. Though part of us still wants to, Elladan meant it when he said that we both want to heal. And we know that to start that we have to stop hunting, though we will undoubtedly continue to clash with them in our time with the Rangers."

A shocked silence fell and, after several seconds when he just looked at them, Elrond immediately bowed his head and covered his face with his other hand. That feeling of just ecstatic joy and relief overwhelmed him. He could barely remember feeling so happy and he found that his heart was pounding and he had to force his breathing to remain calm. His sons were staying home. They were finally staying home!

Elladan watched his father, a tad concerned. "Ada, are you all right?"

Elrond looked up, and for the first time in centuries, a bright, genuine smile graced his face. "Of course I am," he said, a light layer of tears lining his eyes. Then he started laughing. "Of course I am. How could I not be? You have just made me the happiest Elf on all of Arda."

At that, the twins both smiled in return and Elrond leaned in to give a big, warm hug to first Elrohir and then Elladan. "Thank you," he whispered. "I cannot tell you how relieved you have made me." He pulled back from Elladan and absently smoothed his hair. "I have not been this happy in a long time."

"We love you, Ada," they both said.

He reached across and grabbed both of their hands. "And I love you, my sons. I know this will not be easy, but we will get through this together. You are not alone and you never will be."

On the other side of the healing chamber's doors leaning against the wall, Glorfindel closed his eyes in pure contentment as a peaceful smile graced his face. For once, in all these past centuries, he felt hope blossom for the Peredhil family. He straightened and walked down the hallway, a light spring to his step as he went to find Erestor. Hopefully, for once, Imladris would seize to worry and he couldn't have been happier to know that Elrond wouldn't have to wait on his balcony ever again.

The End

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Daernana/daernaneth - grandma/grandmother
Cuiviénen – the Waters of Awakening
Elrondionnath - sons of Elrond
Aman - Elven name for Valinor
Elentári - name given to Varda by the Elves meaning "Lady of the Stars"
Minno - Enter
Penneth - young one
Iston - I know
Muindor - brother
Ellon - male Elf
Ion nín - my son

Again, I know the notion that Glorfindel was born before the Great March of the Elves is highly improbable, again, pushing AU, but for the sake of the message behind the story, I decided to make it so. I hope no one minds.

A/N: Finally this story is complete! Please, please, please review! I would love to hear anything you did and/or didn't like. All of your words are encouraging and will better my writing in my future stories. So please review! The next story (call it a sequel) is already in the making!