Elrohir was asleep, that he knew even from the depths of his mind. But he was too occupied with other things. He first tried to come back to consciousness, but something powerful kept him floating in the halls of some part of his mind, and though he could sense what was happening around him, he could not respond to it or even move.
He could feel his brother's calming presence close by, his father's worried one, and even the light airy aura of Ioreth, but there was no sign of the commanding yet playful air that Glorfindel had. There was the occasional soothing touch of another healer, but he payed them no mind. He was going to try and figure out what was happening inside. Inside his own troubled mind. Time held no meaning here, so it wouldn't matter how long he spent.
He was gathering up the courage to go into the whirling cesspool of flashing lights and thoughts that were held back behind a barrier he discovered. Right now he was floating outside of it, without of physical body of course, but more like an entity with thought and emotion. It was strange, this light. The only times Elrohir walked inside his own mind was when he was deeply asleep in the waking dreams of elves. Of course, that meant he had spent plenty of time in here, and he knew where everything was. The halls and rooms and boxes of memories where his sleep took him were quite familiar, but there had always been this odd room at the end of a far corridor that he had never entered.
Far earlier, when he had felt himself dying, the door had been forcibly opened by something outside his own body, and he had been abruptly shoved back into his hröar by the same thing that opened the door momentarily, right before he had felt himself tugged toward the Halls of Mandos. A disappointment had filled him then, but now that he was back where he belonged, he was relieved. He didn't want Elladan to go through the same horror he had felt when their bond had snapped, but if only he could get out of his accursed mind! He felt like he had been in it far too long, but also knew there was something he must find out here. Apparently the thing that had sent him back to his body had also reclosed the door, since he was no more overwhelmed by the odd light he had felt briefly before.
After much searching – the memories of elves are long and detailed – Elrohir had found the mysterious door. He knew that it had been opened earlier, since the 'locks' that had been on it were gone, and an extraordinary white light gleamed from underneath the door.
Mustering up his courage, he moved toward, feeling acutely the quietness of his own mind, and the bustle of the world outside. He paused right outside the door and reached forward, his being forming a type of hand as he did so. Cautiously gripping the doorknob, Elrohir twisted it and slowly pulled. The door blasted open, and immediately he was overwhelmed by a screaming burning white fiery light rushing around and all over him.
He was thrown back, and he could feel his body responding to the turmoil inside his mind, thrashing wildly, but that was not his concern at the moment. He had to fight back against this, he must! It was pouring past him and into the halls of memories, and he should have been alarmed, but somehow he knew it would not harm him. It was wildly disconcerting, however, and Elrohir forced his entity to move up and back against the onslaught. A sudden realization came over him, then, that this was part of him, and not a strange being inside his own mind. Therefore, he must be able to control it.
With that firm idea, Elrohir let the light wash over him, and it settled somewhat as it roared out the door, like a lake that had been held back by a dam that was eventually slowing as it filled his mind and thoughts and memories. He could feel it taking hold of him, pouring into the niches and crannies of his intellect, and he knew that it was affecting his body as well. Since he didn't know what was happening outside his mind at the moment, he decided just to focus on his mind.
Control. Elrohir let that thought echo around in his mind for a moment, then again, Control. I will control you.
The light payed no mind, of course, as it wasn't alive and had no consciousness, but the idea he had sent out calmed Elrohir and he could feel his body settling down outside his mind. The light still washed over him, swarmed around him, but it didn't bother him anymore and he wasn't affected by it. Stretching out his thoughts and power, Elrohir snagged the most powerful part of the light he found and brought it into the favorite part of his memories – the times when his mother was still in Imladris, and his brother and he ran around causing mischief in the peaceful valley.
Control, thought Elrohir again, and forced the brightness into a type of ball, then flung it with all his might. It vanished right into the wall of his mind, and here was a roar and smashing sound from somewhere outside his mind, outside his . . . body. This light could affect things physically then? Curiously, the younger Peredhil caught up another part of light, twisted it into an orb and threw it again. Once more, the light vanished into the walls of his mind and there was a smashing from outside his mind.
How odd. It must be wrecking something, Elrohir realized. This might not be the best idea, since now that he was paying more attention he could sense the panicked presences of his father, Ioreth, and a few more people out there. Retreating back into his mind – he would never want to hurt someone – Elrohir extended his full force and grabbed every part of the light he could find. With a powerful yank, he forced it all back to the room it had come from. Writhing and dancing around him, it didn't protest when he pushed it inside, making sure to collect up all of the pieces and particles. With a firm decision, Elrohir slammed the door shut again, then paused and looked at the barrier.
It seemed old somehow, though his mind could never decay – as a Firstborn, it wouldn't happen – and he decided that it needed to be fixed. Barely casting it more than a mental glance, the door repaired itself, standing straight and tall. Paying it a little more attention, Elrohir saw that he had accidentally made it crystalline, and he could see through it to the dancing light inside. The radiance was almost hypnotizing, writhing and swirling with tendrils of all colors churning in the confines of the part of his mind. It was a good place for it.
Elrohir pulled away forcibly and moved his presence down the halls of his memories. He was trying to find the way that would lead him back to consciousness, but it evaded him neatly. It frustrated him immensely, since in all of his memories he had never been kept from waking up – wait. Unless . . . there was one thing. An herb potion.
Had his father drugged him?
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"Pardon me," came a soft voice from behind Lord Elrond. He turned his head to see Ioreth in the doorframe with a bundle in her hand. "I got the herbs you requested."
"Thank you," Elrond said simply, and took them, then turned back to his sons. They were lying beside each other in separate cots, about a dozen feet from the other, both in white leggings and a loose tunic; faces pale and listless grey eyes staring up at the ceiling. They were identical in every sense of the word, now that the blood from their excursion had been washed off. The one thing Elrond could not figure out was the blood.
There was unmistakably elven blood on the clothes they had worn – plenty of black orc blood on Elladan's – but there weren't enough wounds to account for the blood. Elrohir had a scar on his side, one that Elrond had never seen before, and on his back was a small, quickly healing wound that occasionally leaked the smallest drops of blood. That had been bandaged easily enough.
Also what Elrond could not discover was what was keeping them asleep. Neither had suffered a concussion, that much was certain because of their perfectly normal eye dilation, but they were locked inside their minds nonetheless. He couldn't help but wonder if it was just one of them that had the problem, and the other was only feeling it through their close bond and mimicking the effects.
"May I help in any other way?" asked Ioreth in an anxious voice.
Elrond realized he had been standing there doing nothing for a few moments, so he moved to the table that was beside the door and started making a tea from the herbs and hot water in a pitcher. He cast a glance at Ioreth. "You've helped me aplenty. I thank you for that – I'm afraid there is nothing more that can be done now, though."
Ioreth nodded respectfully, but Elrond caught the concerned look she sent Elrohir, lying closer to the door than his older twin. Hm . . . Elrond had noticed that Elrohir had been slightly distracted lately, and suspected a female interest, but he hadn't know it was her. Apparently Elrohir's affections were returned, and Elrond was glad, since his sons obviously couldn't stay without a mate forever – but this wasn't exactly the time. Right now he needed to find out what was happening with the twins, and make sure it wasn't dangerous, then he might allow some . . . relationships to form.
"Could I have a moment of privacy with my sons?" Elrond asked the maiden kindly.
Ioreth nodded again and backed out, almost tripping over the low step in her haste. "Yes, my lord. Terribly sorry." She pulled the door shut behind her and stopped outside, taking in a deep breath. This was the first time she had met Lord Elrond, though she had been here more than a week already. His calming presence managed to unnerve her instead of soothe her, just constantly reminding her that she was right next to the most powerful elf in Imladris. Somehow she had managed to keep missing him when she first arrived, though she visited Elladan when he was unconscious a few times, and hadn't seen him at dinner yesterday evening – with a start, Ioreth realized that only one day had passed. So much had happened, though, it seemed like forever!
Earlier that day, when she had seen Erestor struggling with Elrohir, she had hurried to help him, unwittingly volunteering herself to also assist in bringing the younger twin to the Healing Halls, then lay him in a room next to his brother, then – well, she had obviously left the room when Lord Elrond started bathing the twins. About thirty minutes later, Lord Elrond had popped his head out the door and asked her politely to fetch some specific healing herbs from the Herb Depository. Fortunately, she had known where that was, and every single type of plant he had requested, so she had run to fetch them – and now here she was, standing outside a room and waiting anxiously for news of the younger Peredhil twin. Elrohir, she thought to herself, wondering how the name would roll right off her tongue when she said it. It was strange, that she was more . . . drawn to him than his older, more out-going brother. When she first met the twins, she had trouble telling them apart, but now she couldn't believe that had happened. They were so different! Elrohir was slightly more thoughtful, and seemed to think more about what he did before he did; Elladan would just jump into things. If she had any confusion about who was who, she would just look into their eyes. Whenever she gazed into Elrohir's attentive grey eyes, she could see the . . . affection? directed at her. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she thought he might find her interesting, at the least. She definitely found him interesting. Well, Ioreth decided, she had to tamp down her attraction – Lord Elrond obviously wouldn't approve of his son courting a simple elleth from Greenwood.
Court! Where had that thought come from? Startled, Ioreth reevaluated her thoughts. It was far too early to even think about courting – she had barely met Elrohir! Ioreth frowned as she tried to catch stray thoughts. Before coming here, to Imladris, she had never thought about a specific male courting her. Oh, she had plenty ideas of marriage and elflings, and even ellyn friends, most warriors in the Greenwood Guard, but she'd never been asked or ever considered accepting an offer. What a ridiculously petty thing the heart was, Ioreth decided, and left it at that.
She was further distracted by the sounds of arguing coming from down the hall, coming closer. Listening carefully, Ioreth made out that it was Lord Elrond's adviser – Erestor! Why did she keep thinking of him as just the adviser? – and Glorfindel. Her ears tinged red when she realized she had been spying on the famed Balrog-slayer. She immediately jerked her attention away from the conversation, but when the two rounded the corner, she couldn't help but hear what they were talking about.
"It's not a fool joke, Erestor," Glorfindel was insisting to the adviser walking beside him.
Erestor just glided smoothly over the floor, prim and proper, but barely reaching the warrior's shoulders beside him. No one would have ever guessed that they were friends, since they were complete opposite in looks and personality. Erestor was dark-haired and brown-eyed, with a pale complexion, while Glorfindel had tumbling waves of golden locks and bright blue eyes that glittered as he spoke. Erestor was slender, while Glorfindel was relatively broad-shouldered for an elf. Ah, and the differences went on and on, and yet they tolerated each other.
"To amuse myself," Glorfindel would excuse himself for befriending the adviser, but Erestor said, "For the sake of Imladris, the Captain of the Guard and the Chief Counselor must put up with each other." So they got along, but right now Ioreth knew none of that. She just knew that they were arguing.
"You expect me to believe that Elrohir exploded into light, then came back together?" Erestor's tone of voice made Glorfindel's former statements sound ridiculous.
"No, no," the Balrog-slayer tried to explain. "That's not what happened. It was his eyes. They were glowing a white color, then it got bigger and bigger until – foom!" To emphasize his point, Glorfindel flung his arms out dramatically. Erestor had to stop in his tracks to keep from being smacked in the face by a wild left arm. When the Elda lowered his arms sheepishly, Erestor sniffed and continued walking toward Ioreth, who was trying her best not to listen, but failing miserably. After all, the conversation was apparently about Elrohir; of course she had to listen.
"White, the opposite of Elladan's black eyes?" Erestor asked somewhat disbelievingly, yet Glorfindel nodded suddenly and eagerly. "Yes, it's exactly like that!"
"Then you are saying that Elladan's eyes turn black and he goes on a murderous rampage when that happens – and it started when you were chasing him around the courtyard –"
Glorfindel snorted at that, but Erestor continued, "– and he fell and hit his head. And this afternoon, you came upon them, Elrohir died –"
Ioreth couldn't hold back a gasp at that, but fortunately the nearing elves didn't hear her.
" – but he . . . his eyes glowed white, the opposite of Elladan's, who were black, and then it all exploded and his wounds were magically healed," Erestor concluded. Glorfindel had been nodding eagerly through the whole thing, but a slight frown marred his brow.
Erestor gave the Balrog-slayer a disbelieving look. "How am I supposed to believe that?"
Glorfindel huffed in frustration. "Stubborn Noldo!"
"Pig-headed Elda," was the immediate retort, and then both of them unexpectedly noticed Ioreth trying to be unobtrusive, standing to the side.
Erestor seemed flustered at being overheard, but Glorfindel just smiled charmingly at her. "Well met, Lady Ioreth – again."
Her face matched the pink shade of Erestor's; she hadn't wanted them to know she was accidentally listening on them, but she managed a smile of her own. "Well met, my lords."
Glorfindel chuckled at the title, but glanced at Erestor. "Stay here and watch for . . . intruders. I'm going to check on the pennyth." As he had hoped, Erestor's embarrassment faded and he scowled at the Elda. "I can go in if I wish."
"Suit yourself." Glorfindel opened the door and vanished inside, shutting it back behind him.
Erestor looked like he was going to follow, but took in a deep breath and stepped back against the wall, next to Ioreth. He waited a moment, and then glanced over at Ioreth, who was pointedly looking at the floor. "Lady Ioreth?"
She looked up with a somewhat guilty look. Erestor smiled slightly to alleviate her worry, and gestured toward the room now containing Elrond, his twin sons, and Glorfindel. "He's not the delightful figure all the tales make him out to be – he's actually an annoying, infuriating elf. Don't be fooled by his charms."
Ioreth knew he meant Glorfindel, but she found what the adviser had said hard to believe, so she just nodded demurely. Erestor looked resigned that no one would ever believe him, and just shifted his gaze to the door opposite him, waiting for someone to call him. He didn't have long to wait.
First Erestor sensed a strange shift of power all around him. Maybe just air, but it felt like the force of the ground below him, the strength of the stones in the halls, the might of the air was being pulled into the Healing Room before him. Just after he noticed that, he heard a call from Glorfindel coming from the same room.
"Erestor, get in here!"
Sensing the urgency in the order, Erestor decided not to snap at the Elda for telling him what to do again, and moved forward to push the door open. As soon as he had, he knew why Glorfindel had yelled for him.
Elrond stood by his younger son's bed, confusion written on his face, Glorfindel beside him. They both stared at Elrohir, which drew Erestor's gaze to the cot as well. At first he didn't notice, he just saw the white clothes he wore, but then his eyes caught on the disruption.
Right underneath his skin, like some kind of strange blood, silvery light flowed through his veins. Elrohir's pale skin was illuminated with the still-slight glow, but his grey eyes were unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling. A ripple ran through the light, and it increased faintly, and pulsed like a heartbeat. Tendrils of it shimmered up his neck and through odd designs drawing themselves on his neck, and the other ends vanished down into the white shirt he wore.
"It . . . wasn't there a moment ago," Erestor heard Lord Elrond say helplessly, reaching for his son and then drawing back in concern. Glorfindel looked over his shoulder at Elladan, who lay in the other cot a dozen feet away. Erestor followed his gaze, but the elder twin lay peacefully with no sign of strange lights on him.
Ioreth appeared in the door behind them and her eyes widened visibly catching sight of Elrohir, but Erestor was too occupied to shoo her away, like he should have done. Instead he blinked slowly, then asked Glorfindel, "Is this what you were talking about?" His calm tone hid his shock and nervousness, as he had practiced for so long.
"Yes, but –" Glorfindel hesitated, still watching Elrohir, "– there was more of it, and it was in his eyes. And then it blasted everywhere and knocked me out for a moment."
"What are you talking about?" Elrond asked absent-mindedly, his eyes following the paths the lights traced over Elrohir's features.
At the same time, Erestor hissed, "You didn't tell me you were unconscious!"
Glorfindel didn't answer either of them, but leaned slightly closer to stare into Elrohir's listless eyes – he was obviously still asleep, which confused the Elda further. Was he really asleep, or was he pretending? The Balrog-slayer hated to admit it, but he had no idea what to think, and didn't know what he should do. What to do was chosen for him in the next moment, when Elrohir stiffened abruptly.
"Oh, raich." Glorfindel sucked in a nervous breath and then his fears came true seconds later.
Muscles tightened, then suddenly Elrohir jerked, his legs flying out and back arching as if in pain. His mouth opened but no sound came out, and his eyes remained dull in sleep. Immediately, Glorfindel grabbed the twin's legs and pressed down with all his might. Elrond moved swiftly as well, grabbing one of Elrohir's arms and holding it to the bed.
Erestor just stood there dumbly for a moment, but shot into action when Glorfindel snapped, "Come on, help!" He moved around the cot and snatched Elrohir's flailing left arm and shoved it down, almost being thrown off by the thrashing the twin was doing.
Glorfindel was horribly reminded of what had happened earlier that day, when Elrohir had done the same thing. There were some differences, however – Elladan's eyes weren't crazily black and they were in Imladris – although he wasn't sure the latter was such a good thing, if they didn't know what was happening. Also, with a glance up at Elrohir's face, the light that had increased yesterday was just beating even more steadily through his veins. Maybe there wouldn't be any . . . explosions like earlier. Oh, he dearly hoped so.
Ioreth watched, forgotten, from the doorway, her eyes wide and mouth unconsciously dropped open in fright. She moved a step forward, wishing to help, but she knew her slender body wouldn't help them hold him down. Instead, she anxiously scanned Elrohir's face for any sign of recognition; she didn't understand what was happening, and it was obvious that neither did the other three ellyn holding the twin down.
"What's happening to him?" Lord Elrond snapped at Glorfindel finally; he had heard the last part of the conversation between his Captain and Chief Counselor and assumed they knew something.
After almost getting kicked back to the wall, Glorfindel attained a firm grip on Elrohir's legs and sank down, pulling them snug with the bed as the twin convulsed. "I don't know!" he called to Elrond. "This kind of happened this afternoon – I was going to tell you, but you were sort of busy watching after them! I was just coming to give my report –" He was cut off by a wild kick to his stomach that knocked the air out of his lungs, but he held on determinedly.
At the reminder that Elladan was in the room, Ioreth glanced quickly over to see what the elder twin was doing. He was just lying there, still staring blankly at the ceiling, at least noticeably unaware of his brother's distress. Ioreth snapped her gaze back to Elrohir to see if he had calmed down at all, worry eating at her.
"Ioreth!" Elrond said urgently, barely missing getting hit in the head when Erestor's grip on Elrohir's other arm slipped. The adviser quickly amended his mistake, pulling the flailing limb back down firmly to the other side of the bed.
Ioreth snapped to attention. "Yes, my lord?"
Elrond was suddenly very glad that the elleth was in this room. He didn't really want her to see what was happening to his son – especially as he didn't even know what it was – but since she was here, she could help immensely. "Hand me that tea I started!"
Ioreth's gaze caught almost immediately on the pack of herbs she had just brought in, and the tea that was being brewed. She moved swiftly, pouring the steaming liquid into a cup, and then added some more water to cool it down. Hurrying over to Lord Elrond, she held the drink out for him to take.
He did take it, but first passed Elrohir's arm off to Erestor, who was having a hard enough time keeping down one arm while Elrohir still jerked and writhed under the firm pressure of their hands. Grabbing Elrohir's chin, he forcefully pulled it up and pried his jaw open.
Ioreth gasped when Lord Elrond tipped the cup in his other hand and poured the contents of the cup down his son's throat. He closed Elrohir's mouth and pressed the younger twin's pale lips together, then massaged his neck, forcing the twin to swallow the mixture. Within seconds, he was calming down visibly, the wild thrashing stopping.
Elrohir slumped back to the bed, tremors still running up and down his arms and legs. Glorfindel kept his grip, but loosened it somewhat in case something else happened. Warily, Erestor released the younger twin's arms and let him fall back to the sheets. Grey eyes were still half-lidded and staring at the ceiling, asleep yet not asleep.
Lord Elrond let out a sigh and placed the cup to the side, moving forward and bending over to place his hands on each side of Elrohir's head. After a moment, his brow creased and he frowned, seeming to concentrate harder. Nothing happened, but that Elrohir completely relaxed, his limbs lying slack on the bed sheets. Ioreth had to force herself not to move forward, her natural worrying tendencies surfacing. None of the ellyn in the room spared her a look, so preoccupied they were on Elrohir. She didn't realize it, but she had barely looked at Glorfindel once this whole time, her attention focused only on Elrohir.
"What . . . was that all about?" Glorfindel finally said, gasping.
"All I can find is that he's struggling inside his mind," Elrond finally said, pulling his hands away and gesturing for Glorfindel to release the twin. "There is something pushing me out, something . . . powerful. I can't contact him; I don't even know if he was aware that I was trying."
"That light-thingy is still going," Erestor commented wearily, his usual fluid speech abandoning him. Indeed, the small lines were still rippling up and down Elrohir's face, neck, and the part of the torso that was visible, but it looked like it was fading somewhat.
Glorfindel leaned closer to examine. "It is going away. Do you suppose this is temporary?" he asked to no one in particular. He glanced at Elrond, though, which is why he was unprepared for what happened next.
Erestor's eyes widened in shock and he scrabbled backwards quickly, starting to call out a warning to Glorfindel, when the Balrog-slayer was hit violently in the chest by something white, glowing, and felt like a powerful fist. He was flung backwards and smashed into the table that held the tea, utterly destroying it. The cup, herbs, and pot crashed onto the floor, and Glorfindel sat there stunned, while a white glow hummed around the point of impact on his chest.
Lord Elrond and Erestor – Ioreth was staring with wide eyes at Elrohir – spun to their friend, concern rushing to them. Erestor managed to make it to him first, and promptly delivered a slap to the side of the Elda's head.
"Are you okay?"
Glorfindel groaned. Typical response of an adviser who couldn't just ask instead of hitting! "Ugh, stop it, Erestor. I'm fine." The partial ivory glow from the hit was disappearing already, and he just felt like – hmm, like he had been punched in the chest by a giant hand. He was lucky some ribs weren't broken, though he could tell at least one was cracked slightly. He ignored it though, and accepted Elrond's hand to his feet, looking worriedly at Elrohir. "Did you see that, Elrond? Where did it come from?"
Elrond hesitated, and then slowly said, "It was like a ball of pure light . . . coming from Elrohir's fingertips. He threw it straight at you, though it didn't look at all intentional, since his eyes were barely even open."
Ioreth had seen the whole thing. The strange glowing in Elrohir's face had suddenly traveled down into his right arm, then his hand, and finally into his fingertips until the appendages beamed brightly. Then, light danced between his fingers and formed an odd-shaped ball. Elrohir, with his still blank eyes, then threw it into the air. Ioreth didn't think he had been aiming for anyone, though; it just looked like he was . . . practicing something? She wasn't sure, and the horrible possibilities of what this could mean terrified her. Was he going to die? Was this something elves did when they faded? She could think of nothing else that could be happening.
Her confusion was interrupted by a shout from both Glorfindel and Erestor.
"It's happening again!" called Erestor frantically, and he was right. The light danced down his fingertips, blazed brightly, the arm pulled back a little, then threw the glowing ball.
"Move!" Glorfindel yelled, seeing the sphere heading straight for Ioreth. She ducked immediately, but it was needless, since the thing just smashed into the rock above the doorway. There was a moment of silence, where Elrohir dropped back, listless, to his cot, then the whole top of the door crumbled. Ioreth stood for a moment stupidly, then skittered backwards, realizing she should have moved sooner.
Her mistake was made obvious when one of the chunks of rock slammed into her forehead, just above the right eye. A burning pain shot through her head, and she immediately collapsed among the rubble of the door.
Inside the room, Elrohir sank into a deep slumber; Elladan was still peacefully – apparently – dreaming away; Lord Elrond and Glorfindel lunged forward to help Ioreth; and Erestor's face turned white as snow and he froze in abject fright.
"Hold her head," Elrond ordered, jumping into action and brushing bits of rock dust and shards of stone off her shoulders. To Erestor he cast over his shoulder, "Watch Elrohir, and don't let him move."
Turning right away to obey his Lord, Erestor moved to Elrohir's bedside and looked down at the pale fair face, then back at Ioreth, who was now completely unconscious. He couldn't help but wonder what Elrohir's reaction would be when he woke up and either remembered what happened or he was told.
Erestor wasn't looking forward to that conversation.