Chapter 3

Elrohir had lost all concept of time.

He lay in his bed, unable to muster the energy to speak at length or explain what could've caused this terrible tiredness. He sipped at water when Elrond begged him to but did not eat. He drifted between sleep and the waking world, at times finding that his mind was too noisy to bear and at other times finding it so quiet that he could not feel anything at all.

Every time Elrohir woke, Elrond was at his bedside, watching him. The look on his face convinced Elrohir that he was dying. He never saw Elladan.


Five days had passed. Glorfindel had had quite enough of Elladan's negligence of his brother.

He had never known Elrohir particularly well; it seemed no one really did. He had known him only as an extension of Elladan, or a counterweight that kept his louder, more impulsive brother in check. Knowing now from his letters how much his training had burdened the younger twin and how Elrohir was so like his past self, he felt a patriarchal tenderness towards him that had previously been reserved for Elladan. He could stand for him to be hurt no longer.

It was the weekly day off from training, so Glorfindel had to do some searching to find Elladan. He found him in the library. He was looking through old tomes and scribbling notes in illegible handwriting. Glorfindel remembered vaguely Erestor mentioning that as their coming-of-age approached, Elladan and Elrohir had lessons structured around the creation of a final project, an act of community service that displayed their skills. Elladan was hard at work.

"What are you working on?" Glorfindel asked him. Elladan jumped. Glorfindel glanced at the books around him; they were all war-books, histories with descriptions of the weapons and strategies employed in various battles, as well as more practical strategy books.

"My project. I don't know what it'll be yet, but Erestor said to research anything that interested me deeply."

Glorfindel did not reply to that, sitting down across the table from Elladan and lounging in his chair.

"Pull your mind from the drama of battle for a moment and listen to me," Glorfindel said. "I don't know what it is that's gone on between you and Elrohir, but he needs your support now, and you are not doing your duty as his brother."

Elladan sighed, snapping his book shut. His eyes narrowed.

"He sent you?"

"No. He hasn't asked for you. He hasn't been out of bed in five days. Won't eat anything."

"His self-destruction is not my fault."

"It is when you have the power to help him," Glorfindel said sternly. "What is a warrior's duty on the battlefield?"

"Shield the hurt; defend the weak," Elladan said. Glorfindel had made a point of drilling it into his students' heads, and he had lost count of how many times he had said it. The point of fighting any individual battle is not to defeat evil necessarily. That is what a war is for. The point of a battle is to shield the hurt; defend the weak. He had died in Gondolin for that belief, and would do so again in a heartbeat.

"And I call upon you now and tell you that your brother is fighting a battle just as real as one with swords. He is weak and hurt and it is your duty to protect him."

Elladan's face was stony.

"He won't let me in, anyway."

"He will if you ask him. He is fading."

Glorfindel could see Elladan tense in his seat. His face paled, his brows drawing in and his mouth opening, stuttering.

"W-what?"

"Your father's prognosis."

"How?" Elladan was breathless. "What from?"

"We do not know. That is why I ask you to go to him."

Elladan's hand grasped at the edge of the table. It was trembling, and Glorfindel could see a blind, confused terror rising on his face.

"It is not too late to help him. But we need your insight into his mind, through your bond. If you help us understand what ails him, we can help him."

Elladan gathered up his books and papers into a neat pile. His jaw was clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Where is he now?"


Elrond's face softened with relief when Elladan came in. The sight of it made Elladan sad.

"Glorfindel told me you want me to look into his mind." He put his books down on the table and came over to Elrohir's bedside. Elrohir was paler than Elladan had ever seen him, curled on his side on the bed. He was utterly still as he slept. His hands, now out of their bandages, were wrapped in ugly white scars.

"I was hoping you'd be able to. I don't know quite how your bond works anymore; I thought I did when you were young," Elrond said.

"I fear it may be limited," Elladan said. "He shut me out when he was hurt. I don't know if I can still use it."

He pulled a strand of hair out of Elrohir's face and patted his cheek, calling his name softly. Elrohir opened his eyes. They were darker than normal.

"Elrohir," Elladan whispered. Elrohir squinted at him. He looked so tired and so sad. Elladan leaned to press their foreheads together, trying with all his might to send a wave of sorryness, of love, of protectiveness. Elrohir's hand came and grasped at the side of Elladan's face. Elrohir's face was damp with tears.

"I wanted to try and use our bond to get a better sense of what is troubling you," Elladan said. "Would that be all right?"

Elrohir wiped his eyes. The simple action seemed to exhaust him.

"Okay." His voice was raspy. He closed his eyes and Elladan took his brother's prone hand and lifted it into both his own.

Elladan closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, once, twice, and he delved into the space between their minds. Elrohir's breathing fell into sync with his.

He found Elrohir in the deepest part of his own heart.

As Elrohir let their connection grow, to Elladan it felt like a trickle of water that grew into a stream.

Sadness.

Deeper.

Shame. Guilt. Fear.

Deeper.

Inferior. Small. Worthless.

The feelings were coming over him in waves, aching, freezing and boiling him in succession. He was crying. With the emotions came snippets of memory, sentences and glimpses through Elrohir's eyes. His thoughts. Observations.

Outrage. They didn't notice I was gone. What's the point in even going?

Glorfindel and Erestor favor him. Everyone favors him. He knows it.

When Elladan picks a partner to spar with, he picks anyone else, unless our parents are there, and then he picks me. He knows he can reliably beat me. He wants to put on a show of my defeat.

"Penneth." A hundred times in different voices. Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, Celebrían.

"Little brother."

What if she died and it is my fault because I couldn't just get a grip and control myself?

You're dreadfully serious.

Please leave me alone.

Please stop hurting me.

I'm sorry. I don't know what I did that made this happen, either.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

A firm hand gripped his shoulder, and Elladan came back to his own body with a jolt and a gasp. Glorfindel had shaken him. Elladan felt Glorfindel's strong hands push his hair behind his ears, pulling it away from his sweaty forehead.

"Are you all right?" Elrohir's voice. Elladan turned to look at him. His sunken face, hallowed cheeks, and dark eyes made sudden, terrible sense.

"Is that—is that all the time?" Elladan choked out.

"I did not feel anything out of the ordinary, so I…think so. But I do not know what you saw. What you felt."

"So much. Too much, all at once. How can you hold all this in all the time?" Elrohir's smile was so sad. Elladan felt his heart break solidly in two in his chest.

"You're more expressive than me," Elrohir said. He pulled his hand from Elladan's. "I find it easier to hold it in than to express it."

Elladan choked on a chuckle, leaning to kiss his brother's forehead. He wiped the tears from his eyes. He wanted to see clearly.

"I'm going to go and calm down," he said softly. "And you should rest. When I return, we can talk."

Elladan could feel Elrohir's heart again at last. It felt tired but relieved.


Elladan did not return. Elrond assured Elrohir that Elladan just needed some time to get his bearings.

Celebrían arrived as the sun was beginning to set. Feeling newly invigorated by Elladan's understanding, Elrohir suggested that their family go eat dinner together in their private dining room. When everyone was agreed, he went to bathe and change his clothes for the first time in days. He felt better he came out.

"Let me braid your hair," Celebrían said. Elrohir managed a smile, though it was hesitant—he wasn't sure how much she knew of his condition, and the thought made him uneasy.

She combed his wet hair, smoothing it down before moving to braid it. Her hands were gentle. It was like she smoothed his rough edges with her touch and the scent of her perfume. Her presence was always calming to him.

"I missed you," he murmured. She smiled, and as she tied off his braid she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"I missed you, too, my darling." She looked him over thoroughly, and he knew that she knew something. "Are you ready for dinner?"

He nodded.


When they were all sitting down with plates of food, Elladan opened his mouth to speak of what had happened. Elrohir rested a hand on his knee.

Don't. Please. It can wait until morning. The moment of normalcy was tantalizing.

Elladan nodded to him. Elrohir smiled.

They all asked Celebrían questions about her trip until long after they'd cleaned their plates.

"Your grandparents are eager to see you," Celebrían said to them both. "They will arrive in the morning on the day of the ceremony."

Their coming-of-age ceremony was scheduled for their begetting day at the beginning of October, just over two months away. The guest list was long and still open, littered with important names—Thranduil and his family, Galadriel and Celeborn, and several kings of men included among them. Most of the population of Imladris would be in attendance.

"Perhaps afterwards, once you've both settled in, we could travel to Lothlorien to see them," Elrond said. It was not a trip they made frequently; Elrohir could only remember having visited his grandparents at their home twice in his entire life.

"I would like that," Elladan said. Elrohir nodded after a moment of hesitation.

After a long moment, Elladan stood.

"I am going to retire."

"I will come with you," Elrohir said. He was beginning to feel tired; this burst of energy at his mother's return had lasted longer than he had expected, but it was running out.

"Sleep well," Celebrían said. Her smile was soft.

"Good night, Naneth," they said together. Elrohir trailed behind Elladan down the hall towards the family suite. They walked in silence.

When they arrived, Elladan paused outside Elrohir's door. He leaned to kiss his brother's forehead and Elrohir closed his eyes.

"I'll join you once I'm dressed for bed." Elladan retreated to his room to change, and Elrohir went to do the same. When he lay down, Elladan came behind him.

"Good night," Elladan murmured. Elrohir smiled.

"Good night."


Elrond and Celebrían spent a few hours in the Hall of Fire. It was mostly empty, as they had eaten dinner late.

"Do you still wish for another child?" Celebrían asked after they had talked for some time. Elrond could barely hear her over the crackling of the fires. She was leaning against his chest, lazily tracing the embroidery on his tunic with one finger.

"I do," Elrond said. He knew she wanted the same; they had discussed it before she left. "But I think we ought to wait until everything has settled down with the boys. Elrohir especially. I want to be sure that he's happy and stable before I let my attention be drawn elsewhere...Do you know of what's happened?"

Celebrían nodded.

"My mother told me." Her face was grieved. Elrond was glad that Galadriel knew—she had likely seen in a vision or in her mirror but had known better than to let Celebrían see.

"And you're right," she said. She looked up at him after a moment, the gold from the fire staining her blue eyes a warm brown.

"Is he all right now? He seemed all right at dinner."

"I cannot tell anymore," Elrond admitted. "He was struggling this morning. This is the first time he's been up and about in days. Elladan reached into their bond to get a better understanding of what's troubling him, and Elrohir has been more energetic since then. And he's calmer since your return. Your presence is good for all of us, my love," he said. He did not mention his earlier analysis that Elrohir was fading—hopefully, Elladan's intervention had eliminated that possibility, and she did not need to know how close to calamity they had come. She smiled.

"I asked my mother to see what she could tell of his future, when I got your letter."

"What did she see?"

"He will flourish, in time. He just needs some time." Her nose wrinkled; he could tell she was thinking, remembering.

"His power will grow. He will become more powerful than you, and perhaps even wiser."

The thought was comforting to Elrond. He wished for nothing more than for his children to surpass him in every measure.

"We talked at length about the two of them. My mother thought that Elladan's skill with a blade may have some magic involved with it, as well—she said that she got that impression last time she saw him but did not want to tell him, thinking Elrohir would feel left out. I doubt there is a way to confirm whether it is magic or talent."

"Magic seems realistic," Elrond said. Elladan had always been powerful with a sword, and it was nearly effortless for him. He put in half the work and came out twice as good as the other members of his training group.

They had lapsed into silence. Elrond had nearly forgotten how much he had missed her. His heart's song had mellowed with her near. Perhaps everything seemed so stressful only because she was not there to comfort him.

He looked at her face as she slowly fell asleep against him. She was warm, flushed cheeks and pink lips, as beautiful and enchanting as the day he met her. He pressed a feather-light kiss to her lips and she smiled sleepily.

When he was sure she was asleep, Elrond picked up his wife, her head still against his chest, and carried her through the nearly-empty halls to their bed.


The next morning, Elrohir was at the window, looking out as he always did. Elladan did not disturb him this time. After a few minutes of silence, Elrohir turned to him.

"When you are dressed, Adar and I were hoping that you'd be willing to talk today about all the things that I saw yesterday," Elladan said. "It would be us, and Adar, and Naneth, plus Erestor and Glorfindel. During the time when we normally have lessons after breakfast."

The thought was overwhelming. Elrohir swallowed, taking a minute to calm his pounding heart before giving a hesitant nod.

"What will it be like?"

"I thought I would say some of the things I saw and felt, and you could add anything—if you wanted to. And they could talk about it a bit. And then onto the next. You wouldn't have to do anything but listen, unless there was something you wanted to say."

"Will you sit with me?" Elrohir asked. He could not bear the thought of sitting on his own.

"If you wish it." Elladan smiled, softer than usual. After a moment of silence, Elladan stood.

"I'll get us breakfast," he said. He opened the door and then paused, as if he had just thought of something.

"I thought—" Elladan said. "When you cut yourself off from me, I thought it was because you didn't want to fix our bond—that you did it only reluctantly because I'd asked, and it was not your true wish. I am glad that I was mistaken." He stepped out and closed the door behind him.


The six of them gathered in the living room. It was a large room, awash in pale blue and silver furnishings, a tribute to Caras Galadhon, as Celebrían had designed.

As promised, Elladan sat next to Elrohir. Elrohir felt his throat tighten with nervousness, and his hands began to shake. Elladan reached and entwined their fingers and squeezed Elrohir's hand tight.

"I wanted to start at the beginning," Elladan said. "Or at least, what felt like the beginning to me." He looked only at Elrohir while he spoke.

"It was several months ago—that day when you missed training, back in February. You came down and saw me there, and Adar and Naneth, and felt hurt because you thought we'd forgotten you, or hadn't cared that you weren't there."

Elrohir nodded. Said aloud it seemed petty, silly, that such a small event could cause such a spiral.

"I was—my energy was low before that." He took a moment to catch his breath. You don't have to do anything but listen, unless there is something you want to say. He wanted to say this, to clarify.

"And I still got anxious before that sometimes. But that was when it began to worsen." Elladan squeezed his hand.

"Oh, Elrohir," Celebrían said mournfully. "If I'd known that it had hurt you I would've told you. I went to find you when you weren't there near the start, and I saw you were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you. I told Glorfindel you would not be there. I didn't know you'd woken before it ended. I wanted to tell you, but—I did not see you that day, or the next."

Elrohir's head spun. He looked to Glorfindel, feeling rather dizzy.

"But—you knew? When I came to the next training, you told—you asked me why I hadn't been there before."

"You are old enough to explain yourself. I would not have penalized you, but the tone you took with me was not acceptable."

Glorfindel was far from apologetic, but Elrohir did not expect anything less from him. The thought that all this pain had come from a misunderstanding made his heart clench.

"I suppose I should've said something," Elrohir said. "It sounds so silly now."

"It is not silly. It caused you pain," Elrond said firmly. "But you are right. We all could have communicated more effectively in that scenario."

They fell silent. Elladan looked at Elrohir, and Elrohir nodded that he could go on.

"That touched upon the feeling of loneliness," Elladan said. "And isolation. But I got the impression that you believe it is a part of your nature to be quiet and not necessarily inviting to potential friends and relationships—and that belief causes you to isolate yourself."

Elrohir was scratching impulsively at the back of his neck. They were all looking at him.

"It's not—well, yes, but—" He struggled with how to put it. "I mean, look at you. Look. All your friends go out with you after training and you all have a good time. I don't have any peers that enjoy my company."

"That is not true," Glorfindel said. "What of Rammasdir?"

"He is Elladan's friend over being mine. We do not know each other well."

"Caenir, then."

"But I—Caenir idolizes me, for reasons I'll admit I don't quite understand. But that makes it impossible for me to be a real friend to him, when he practically worships the ground I walk on. I get so nervous and I can't—I can't get myself to be outgoing or friendly or anything. And perhaps people would like me if they knew me—that is not for me to decide—but they don't know me. No one knows me."

"We know you," Elrond said.

"You didn't realize I was in the middle of a crisis until I'd already hurt myself," Elrohir said, and then regretted how sharply he had said it. He took a deep breath. Take your time. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that so harshly. But because I spend so much time alone, I find it hard to believe that anyone knows me particularly well, and recent events have proved that."

There was silence as his answer. He felt his voice growing tight, choked.

"And I—I wish that I could make it easier to know me. I promise. But I don't even know why I do things half the time myself. And even if all of you did know me well, there are no people my own age who are willing to invest the time to get to know me, when I do not seem immediately friendly or outgoing. They take Elladan and then I come with him. I don't have friends of my own. I had Anordil, but—" The thought was too painful to continue.

"I had wondered what had happened between the two of you," Elrond said. Elrohir looked to Elladan. He wasn't sure Elladan would want him to say what had happened, for it certainly did not paint him in a good light.

"I convinced him to step away from her," Elladan said. He sounded ashamed. "It—I regret it now. I was jealous of her. I know I did not tell you, Elrohir, but I am sorry about all of that."

Elrohir had never seen Elrond look at Elladan with as much disappointment on his face as he did in that moment.

"I've talked to her about it. She…she would be reconciled with you, if you are willing," Elladan said. Elrohir's throat clogged at the thought.

"I'll think about it."

They sat in silence. Elrohir had run out of things to say. Finally, Glorfindel spoke.

"We can take steps to ease your anxiety in social situations so that you are more comfortable around others. That may help you form friendships independently of Elladan," he said.

"And, in addition—" Erestor said, picking up the sentence as if it had not ended. "I think that we in the room should be in agreement that we've made assumptions about you based on your quietness, your politeness, and that was wrong of us. But I assure you that we—well, I can only speak for myself—I will make an effort to know you truly, instead of taking you at face value. I think we owe you that by now."

Elrohir did not realize that there were tears streaming down his cheeks until Elladan reached to wipe them away.

"Do you want to stop for a while?" Elladan asked him.

"No," he whispered, wiping at his eyes with his sleeves. "No, I'm okay. I'm okay. Thank you." He said it both to Elladan for his concern, and to Erestor and Glorfindel for their words. They lapsed into silence.

"I only had one more thing that I saw, or felt, and it was—this is the biggest one, I think. It came up everywhere." Elladan looked at Elrohir. His face was sadder than Elrohir had ever seen it. "And what I saw was that one of the largest causes of all these feelings of hopelessness, and despair, and anger and hurt and sadness, was that you feel inferior to me."

All the adults around them opened their mouths to protest. Elrohir held up his hand, and they held their tongues.

"Let me make clear the reasons why I think this." He was getting more confident with his words, for he had had mostly positive reception. It felt like for once people were really listening to him, and he could not waste such an opportunity.

"I know—I know that you will all argue that you think no such thing, especially Adar and Naneth. But I am quiet and I am observant, and you treat us differently in ways that hurt me deeply. It is not a new development.

"All of you call me 'penneth', or 'little one', or some variation. Elladan, you used to call me little brother, even when you knew it bothered me." He struggled to stay calm. "None of you ever call Elladan by pet names like this. I would not mind them if you did. But it makes me feel small when I am just as old as him and I am nearly an adult.

"Erestor and Glorfindel, you know I have the utmost respect for both of you, but I'd like to ask that you look long and hard at how you treat your students and make an effort to treat them more equally. Erestor, when I did not listen to you about my hands, when I did not go to Adar—that had nothing to do with the lesson, and I think you overstepped your bounds as my teacher. And you zeroed a large assignment because of it when it was not under your jurisdiction, and was my business. I am not a child to be managed. I will not bend to your every whim.

"Glorfindel, of course Elladan is your favorite. He is passionate, and fighting comes very naturally to him. But you should not value what one produces over one's effort. I worked so hard in all your trainings and Elladan did not, but you praised him endlessly and never gave me credit for how hard I worked there. I was miserable, and my own psyche was most of the reason, but your training did not help. You helped me grow as a warrior, but not as a person. I felt trapped. It was as if I—I was his inverse, his shadow, not my own person. That was the worst feeling."

The silence that followed was more strained than the last.

"I wish you all respected me. Because—because I am quieter than him, and because I am not as expressive as him—that does not mean I'm weaker than him, or less than him. And I need to learn that. And you need to learn that. And then I will be happier."

Celebrían looked crestfallen. They all did. Elrohir felt terrible for ruining their morale.

"You're right," Elrond said after a long pause. "You're right. This comes as a relief to me."

Elrohir's brow furrowed.

"I thought you were…insulted."

"No!" Elrond said. His face split into a smile. "There is a way we can help you. I am so glad there is a way we can help you. Getting to know you, and showing and increasing our respect and love for you—we can do that. We can do that."

"That's all I had to say," Elladan said after a moment. Glorfindel and Erestor were still shaken. Elrohir could tell from the ways they held themselves—Glorfindel with his shoulders back and chest out as if he were trying to make himself bigger, and Erestor, his arms protectively about his chest—that he had unnerved them. They left together.

Elrond had duties to attend to in the Healing Halls, and he left after pressing a kiss to the twins' heads. Celebrían came forward to them once everyone was gone.

"I am so proud of both of you," she whispered. She held Elrohir's cheek in her left hand and Elladan's in her right. "I know that I left at a bad time, and you know I would have stayed if I'd known. But you have pulled through, and you always, always will, if you stay together. You must support one another through everything."

"We will," Elladan said. Elrohir just smiled a little, leaning into her touch.

She looked to be on the verge of tears. She managed a smile and then departed, leaving them alone.

A moment passed before Elrohir spoke.

"I wanted to talk to you alone," he murmured. Speaking to Elladan made him more nervous, perhaps because the repercussions if Elladan reacted poorly would be so strong.

"About what?" Elladan asked.

"I wanted—much of what I said to them was also for you. About…about respecting me, knowing me. And I…I am happy to reform our bond, but I…" He tried to think of what to say.

"You need space," Elladan said. Elrohir nodded, relieved that Elladan knew what he wanted and did not seem angry. "You're right."

"I do not want to be in a state of fighting with you," Elrohir said timidly. "But I—I need to work on growing and being apart from you. Being my own self."

Elladan smiled at him, but it did not quite reach his eyes.

"I understand. I'll see you at dinner, brother."

As he left, Elrohir felt both sad and strangely content, a loneliness that was not so bad.


Immediately when he returned to his room, Elladan took out a piece of parchment and a quill. His heart was heavy but hopeful.

Anordil,

My brother and I have come to an agreement to keep our distance from one another for the time being. I hope that you will now be able to comfort him as I cannot.

Elladan.


A/N: This is the end of Part 3. Things are turning around at last. Please leave a review! Thank you for reading.

A note based on past reviews: I know that this story, particularly because it is told mostly from Elrohir's perspective, makes it very easy to fall into the trap of blaming Elladan for Elrohir's feelings or thinking that Elladan does not have good characteristics. This is born partly from the bias in Elrohir's perspective, as he can't see what's going on in Elladan's head. Remember that Elladan is just as young as Elrohir, and just as inexperienced with dealing with his emotions. As you know if you've read Three Wasted Years, Elladan does eventually mellow out and becomes a very supportive brother when he learns to convey his protectiveness constructively and to handle temporary rejection - he just needs time to learn. (Just a note that I don't consider TWY and this story to be in the same timeline/universe-TWY is its own AU.) So please give Elladan a chance to redeem himself in your minds!