Chapter 13

"I've been stuck in the storm before

Felt the wind raging at my door

Couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't find a way out

Somehow my clouds disappeared

Somehow I made it here

Maybe just so you could hear me say

The sun will rise"

~The Sun Will Rise, Kelly Clarkson

It was a few hours later when Elrond entered the room, pushing the door open as quietly as he could. Glorfindel and Erestor were close behind him, each carrying a small bundle of supplies. Elrond's eyes softened as he saw Elladan was leaning against Elrohir, his eyes glazed over in sleep. Reluctantly, he put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Elladan. Elladan, wake up."

Elladan mumbled something and his eyes became clear, and they focused on his father after a few moments.

"Ada?" he said. "What is it?"

"I wanted to wait until Elrohir woke up to dress his wounds so he could tell me how he was feeling, but we can't hold it off any longer."

Elladan nodded, and he sat up, smoothing his wrinkled braids and clothing. He blinked a few times to clear the lingering sleep from his eyes and put his hands strategically on Elrohir's side to help Elrond turn him over.

The minute they turned him onto his stomach, Elrohir's huge pupils dilated to a normal size and he gasped, clenching his eyes shut. Elladan flew to the side of the bed. Elrohir kept his eyes closed.

"Elrohir. El, look at me. Elrohir!"

Elrohir's eyes opened slowly, as if he was terrified of what he might see. When he saw Elladan, he reached out with a shaking hand to touch his twin's cheek, his eyes wide.

"What...how? I...how is this...?" Elrohir murmured, tracing Elladan's face with his fingers. Elladan smiled at him, and with that the wall that was holding him in collapsed and Elrohir's face crumpled.

Elladan pulled Elrohir into him and let him sob into his shoulder. He ran a hand along Elrohir's hair, shushing him quietly and kissing the spot next to his brother's temple, the only place he could really reach. Elrohir shook violently, and Elladan held him tight, holding back his own tears.

"Shhh, El. Shhh, I am here, I am here. Shhhh..."

"Elladan!" Elrohir cried, clutching desperately at his brother. "Elladan!"

"Yes, El, it's me, it's your Elladan...shhhhh...I love you." Elladan's voice cracked with emotion. "You are the light of my life, my world...I am here, I am here, Elrohir...shhh..."

When Elrohir had calmed down, he took a few deep, shuddering breaths and peered past Elladan. Erestor and Glorfindel were standing, staring at him. Glorfindel came over and touched his face with one hand, smiling. No words were needed to show what Glorfindel meant. He soon backed away, leaving Erestor standing slightly awkwardly next to the twins. Abruptly, Elrohir transferred his arms from around Elladan's neck to Erestor's, hugging him tightly.

Erestor looked positively stunned, but after a moment his arms went around Elrohir and he held him close, trying to convince himself that this was real.

When they parted, Erestor lowered Elrohir onto the bed gently so as not to hurt him. Elrond came forward, and Elrohir smiled weakly up at him. Elrond stroked Elrohir's hair gently and pushed the small braids away from his face.

Elrohir lifted his good arm to his head, feeling the intricate plaits with his fingers. He grasped them in a vice-like fist, and his breathing grew harsh once again.

"Get them out...Get them out!"

Elladan jumped up to do his bidding, completely baffled by Elrohir's actions but unwilling to let him be upset by anything that could be so easily fixed. He unraveled the braids, letting the slightly wavy hair fall down naturally again.

He reached up to undo his own braids, but Elrohir's voice stopped him.

"Don't...leave yours. They're nice..."

Elladan looked more than a little confused and slightly offended, but he smiled and let his hand drop anyway.

"Okay."

Elrond propped Elrohir against some pillows, unlacing the loose shirt he was wearing and sliding it off his shoulders. He then unwound the bandages, making Elrohir wince. Elrond murmured his apologies as he examined the wounds. He felt along he unwounded parts of his son, feeling for broken bones. Occasionally Elrohir would hiss during his ministrations, nearly giving Elladan and Elrond a heart attack every time, but it was determined that almost all of these were from severe bruises. Elrond could often feel a slight bump under his fingers, indicating where a bone had broken and healed again.

When he was sure that there were no broken bones, Elrond moved on to check on the flesh wounds. Everything seemed to be healing well, and the infection in the stab wound seemed to be retreating, to his relief. When he got to a group of long, thin cuts, he paused.

"Elrohir?" he asked. Here was a small amount of black liquid dried around the wounds and inside them. "What is this?"

Elrohir looked away, staring at the bedsheets with extreme interest.

Elrond took his cheek in his hand, making Elrohir look at him. He stroked his son's face lightly with the pad of his thumb.

"What is it? If it is poison, I need to know, ion-nin."

"It...it is not poison," Elrohir said quietly, trying to look away again, but finding that Elrond's hand held his face in place. "It is just...it is merely tar, Ada."

"Tar?" Elrond said. "Why on Arda is there tar in your wounds?"

"You know why," Elrohir said quietly. "You just don't want to."

Elrond stared at Elrohir intently, thinking, before he nodded, his eyes saddening. He carefully dabbed the wound with a wet cloth, trying to coax the tar out and leave it clean so it could heal properly. Elladan looked at Elrohir.

"Tar?" he said, and Elrohir looked at him with tortured eyes, shaking his head at the underlying request for information. He just reached out and put his fingers lightly on Elladan's forehead, letting the memory flow into his twin's mind with a grimace.

Three weeks. Three long weeks he had been here, in this cell, with nothing but the frequent torture sessions, and the self-healing sessions after them, to occupy himself with.

He had not screamed yet. He found a sick sense of pride in that, but at least it was something. He had a reputation to keep.

They burst in again, and he bit back a sigh. He was so tired. He could not keep up healing himself for much longer.

As they came through the door, he made a dash towards it, but they yanked him back like they always did, grabbing his hair and throwing him to the ground, bracing his arms and legs against the cold stone floor.

One of them was carrying a large bucket.

They grabbed at his tunic, and he struggled fiercely against them. More orcs came to help hold him, and they ripped the tunic open, exposing his chest to the stale air. He shuddered unintentionally.

They yanked his leggings off too, leaving him completely naked within their circle. He growled at them, trying with all his might to wrench his arms from their tight grips, but it was no use.

The one with the bucket came forth. He did not stop fighting against them, even as the bucket was tipped and the liquid flowed out.

And then it landed on him.

It felt like his skin had been set on fire, and a warg was trying to carve a hole in his chest. Thousands of tiny needles seemed to press upon the inside of his skin, harder and harder until they finally got through the flesh to come out of the other side. He could not help it. He cried out.

They did not stop, in fact, they cheered and poured the liquid even faster. It was all over him! Get it off get it off get it off!

He writhed, and the orcs let go of him, satisfied that he would not try to run now. As the fire ate at him from the inside, he finally let out a strangled scream.

"Elladan!" he cried. "Elladan...where..." his voice dropped to a whisper, and among the laughter of the orcs his vision darkened.

"Where...are...you...?"

After that, tarring him had become their favorite sport, since it was the guaranteed way to get the reaction they wanted.

Elrohir watched as Elladan's eyes slowly came back to awareness, his own eyes filled with anxiety.

Elladan blinked, staring at Elrohir. He blinked again.

And he got up and walked away, trying to rub the tears from his cheeks.

Elrohir stared at his brother's back, his eyes filling with tears as his brother walked away from him in what he knew must be disgust.

He hated himself so much, and now Elladan hated him, too.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Been busy with life-y things. Then we learned about tarring and feathering in history class and I got sudden inspiration...I should seriously stop thinking about fanfiction in class. Anyway, please review! :)