Conversations

Chapter 21 - Raina

Why are you so paranoid about hurting people? As Aragorn and I sat there, with his little bit of perspective sitting in the air, I decided to ask Dan to explain this insight about himself. I didn't feel I had a proper reply to his last piece of advice, so I didn't bother responding to it.

As we sat there in silence, with me idly flipping through Amazon Prime videos with my TV's connection -since we had to hold the movie up on Tira- I tried to find something to distract myself from all this.

Finally, Aragorn stirred and I flicked my eyes over to him. "I hope their conversation is going well," he muttered loud enough for me to hear as his eyes flickered over to the alcove for the front door.

"Well, if Ro's not being a jerk and Tira's behaving herself, I'm sure it's fine."

"That seems like a shaky if, to me." Aragorn glanced back to me.

I raised my brows. "What, Ro not being a jerk?" I couldn't resist teasing.

"No, Tira behaving herself." Aragorn retorted.

I giggled. "Because, of course, if something's going wrong, it'd be Tira's fault?"

"No. It's just…Ro really is sorry and he has something…important to tell her. Really, it's Tira's response that worries me." He really did look troubled.

Once again, I found myself frowning. "Is it something bad?"

Slowly, the ranger shook his head. "Well, at least, I wouldn't consider it bad. I honestly don't know how Tira'll take it, but it is equally her doing."

"What is?" I queried, tilting my head at him in confusion.

He sighed. "Really, it's up to one of them to tell you. Sorry."

"Oh fine." I sighed, settling back into my seat and eyeing the TV screen with disinterest. Since Aragorn wouldn't be helpful, I'd just have to wait until they came back inside, and in the mean time, hope that whatever it was, Tira would be okay with it.

After all, she couldn't fault Ro for something that is equally her fault, now could she? Tira was fiery, hotheaded, and unpredictable, but she was reasonable. Or, at least, she could be.

It's not paranoia; it's caution. I can't destroy what I can't hurt. My brows rose as I read the message, surprised that he had finally answered what was almost twenty minutes later. I had begun to think he was not going to reply to it at all.

I can't hurt what I'm not involved with came not so very long after the first. It's about protection. For you, for others; not for me I suppressed a sigh at the next text that came through, about a minute later.

"What is it?" Aragorn queried, glancing between me and my phone.

"It's your brother." I answered.

"Ah. What did he say?"

"I asked him why he's so paranoid about hurting people." I explained, and Aragorn nodded, tracking with me. "He said it isn't paranoia."

A brow inched upward. "Uh-huh," said doubtfully.

"It's caution, he claims. It's protection. For those he cares about."

Aragorn muttered something under his breath, but though I could tell it sounded exasperated, I could not understand the words due to their Sindarin masking.

"Sorry, what was that?" I asked, leaning towards him. It was getting somewhat annoying to be unable to tell what people were saying.

"I said he needs to learn a thing or two about caution." He translated, then elaborated, "It's one thing to watch carefully what you say and do to avoid damaging our relationships and dealing undue hurt; it's another thing entirely to withdraw from having any relationships because of, as you put it, paranoia about hurting others. That's not caution; that's living in fear, and that is not healthy."

I nodded. "I couldn't agree more. Legolas said it best, though. I cannot live my life in a self-made cage, either to keep the world out or to keep myself in…that's not safety, that's cowardice."

Aragorn looked a little surprised, but not so very perturbed. I think he was beginning to -slowly- get used to us knowing so much about them, down to things that they had said so long ago. "Yes, and he is right. Dan, though…I don't think he quite understands that. At least, not in the way a life's lesson makes us understand."

"Yeah." I answered, then turned my attention to typing out a reply to Elladan, using what I had just told Aragorn. You can't live your life in a self-made cage, El, either to keep the world -us- out or to keep yourself in…that is not safety; that is cowardice. It's not wisdom or freedom; it's bondage.

It was silent for a few minutes, but just as the front door was opening to admit Tira and Elrohir, my phone went off.

How do I make you understand, Raina? I snorted, asking myself that same question of him. I would that I not destroy you…that I give this up while I am ahead, if I am at all.

I dropped my hand to my lap, feeling a flash of irritability and exasperation. I was tempted to wallop him over the head and tell him to grow a few more brain cells, but that was a little complicated to do. I mean, he wasn't here, for one thing. Which was the problem.

Of course, I could always tell him what I wanted to, anyway. I had no doubts that he was definitely reading my messages. Then again, that itself was a problem too, wasn't it? What if I didn't really want to say that to him? Being harsh with people…it was never really my style.

Still, maybe he needed a sharp clue, eh?

"Since it's so complicated, I assume it has to do with the idiot." Elrohir's voice startled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see them both watching me, which quickly let me know that he was talking to me.

"Doesn't everything?" Aragorn queried.

Elrohir didn't appear to see the odd look his brother was shooting him, but I filed it away for later consideration. First, Ro's question and then Dan's idiocy…because Ro was right, Dan was being an idiot.

"Why wouldn't it?" I asked him. "I'm just trying to decide if I should say what my irritability really wants to tell him."

"To what, bugger off?"

I was taken aback at the words, because while to me the expression had always seemed harmless, I knew that it was, actually, taboo. In the Meians' minds, it would be no different. So that left me wondering where this hostility towards his twin was coming from.

"No." I answered slowly. "But something probably equally as harsh."

Elrohir shrugged. "Sometimes harsh is the only thing that computes in his lacking brain."

He spoke so smoothly, so indifferently. But again, I sensed an underlying hostility. And this time, I noticed that Estel was giving his brother a not so well-concealed look of reproach and incredulity. Apparently I wasn't the only one to pick up on a meaner edge to Elrohir's words.

I really didn't get what this was all about and it was, on top of everything else, beginning to bug me. I opened my mouth to voice my disgruntlement a little and ask him to explain why he's talking this way, but he beat me to it, hastily excusing himself for the bathroom.

Aragorn frowned fiercely after him, even when he'd disappeared down the hall, leaving the sudden tension he had created behind him. Frustrated, I hastily pounded out a reply to Elladan before I could think twice about it and sent it, Elrohir's advice echoing in my mind.

Grow a few more brain cells, Dan. In every trust there is the possibility of betrayal; in every relationship, of being hurt. It doesn't mean you hole up somewhere and never live because you're afraid of pain. Your paranoia (if it isn't, prove it) is only making things worse, not preventing anything.

I tried to take a few calming breaths, but he'd shot a message back with a surprising swiftness. And it only exacerbated my frustration.

You're upset. Maybe we should just stop talking.

Duh. Of course I'm upset. Why wouldn't I be? You're being stupid. I'd already sent it before I was wondering how this had degraded into such a heated discussion. At least, I certainly didn't feel calm. It felt like he wanted to vex me and, to a degree, he was certainly succeeding. And that's exactly what you want, isn't it? To stop talking? Are you *trying* to make me angry?

No, I'm not. I'm *trying* to be honest.

I angrily noted that he hadn't answered my other question. In fact, his reply felt very curt. Fine. Two could play that game.

Sure.

Cause he'd just been so honest with me about everything so far, right? Yeah, right.

I closed my eyes and took a cleansing breath, willing the heat of my aggravation to dim. A moment of peace washed over me suddenly, like an armistice. I needed to calm.

Tira ambled back in with a chocolate bar in hand. I sincerely hoped that didn't signal her talk with Elrohir didn't go so well. Chocolate was Tira's therapy food.

"Hey y'all, how's it?" she mumbled around a mouthful.

"Fine, and you?" Estel volunteered for both of us. He'd been quiet the past few minutes, letting me wrestle with his brother. I'm sure he'd been able to read the tension in me, but I guess he'd picked up on the fact that I was trying to relax again.

"Quite well, thanks. Where'd the elf go?"

I knew she wasn't referring to Elladan. Off to Idiotville, after all, was not the answer she was looking for. It was a little more closer to home, for her at least.

"Bathroom." Unless Ro had skedaddled off some place to nurse his hostility and resentment.

"Ah, I see."

"And how did your conversation go?" I pressed, considering that his amarulence earlier might've also signalled things hadn't gone well.

Tira soon put those fears to rest and when she asked what we were doing now, I didn't think it appropriate to tell her that we were going to assemble search parties and go out to find Elladan so we could drag him back here by his pointy ears and proceed to stage an intervention.

Nah, she'd much prefer just hanging out, but I was soon distracted by said pointy-eared mop of woe.

Raina, *please* just let this go. Let me go. And *don't* hang yourself up on me. You need to forget about me, about me and you.

His reply felt calmer, too.

All I could feel, though, was all the fight draining out of me and with defeat I thought, Whatever, Dan. I dejectedly typed a reply, I can't. It's too late for that. I sighed and felt quiet, sad as I sent it and placed my phone on the coffee table. I don't want to talk to you anymore this evening, I couldn't help thinking, my heartache making me feel weary and drained.

Tira was talking about sharing stories and since I didn't feel up to doing anything, I just went along with it. Truthfully, I just wanted to curl up into bed and find some comfort in being unaware of the world.

I remembered eventually falling asleep on the couch, so how I woke up in my bed, I don't know. I guess Trelan (who showed up late in the evening) or Elrohir had carried me back here; not sure, doesn't really matter, I suppose.

But I was dozing there, nearly asleep, only partly awake, when I sensed something familiar in the room behind me. The presence was calming, comforting, sure…as if I identified it on a personal level. I, actually, didn't think anything of it in that moment, didn't move or awaken.

Until there was a sigh, my name—longing, pain, remorse. I blinked my eyes open as I considered these things, but it wasn't until it registered, that I realised what had brought me awake, what I had heard.

Yet, when I opened my eyes, the room was vacant and looked as similar to how I had left it last night as it possibly could. I shifted and stretched, wincing at how uncomfortable it is to sleep in day clothes.

Then I stared up at the ceiling and released a heavy breath. So I dreamt that. Again, I was dreaming of his presence, his comfort, his light in my life. I missed his eyes, his smile, his face. His kisses, his touch. I missed him.

Why did he insist on being stupid about this? Well, I could kind of figure. The nift thought he was doing right by me; he wanted to do right by those he loved. But in so doing, he had blinded himself to what we wanted from him, for him; blinded himself to the fact that we wanted him, wanted him in our lives, with us, part of us.

As I laid there and thought over it all, I could feel myself sinking farther. My heart had been steadily falling since this all began and I blinked at the tears that pricked my eyes.

I suppose I should just get used to it…Elladan wanted me to. But did he really want me to get used to this feeling of heartache? I'd come too far with him to just move on unaffected now, to feel whole and fine. It'd take far too long…if I ever could. I think, there would always be a part of me, even if I moved on, stuck on him.

We were meant to be, after all. I knew we were destined…so there couldn't be another, there couldn't be something else.

Sighing again, I got up and padded over to my desk, to grab up the journal meant for no other eyes but his. Then, I exchanged CDs in my stereo and threw back the curtains and opened the window. The early morning air was refreshing and for a second I eyed the backyard.

Tell me what to do, ooh, about you…

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, listening to the quiet music (didn't want to wake anyone) of the newest song to strike me as excellent for this situation, Demi Lovato's Tell Me What to Do.

'Cause it's been a long time coming, so tell me where are you running to?

For a moment, a desperation and breath-stealing depression washed over me before I pushed it out of my mind and let myself be comforted in the music. I knocked the screen out of the window so that it toppled to the ground outside, propped against the house, and I could sit on the sill and be comfortable (I'd already taken it off before, as I liked to do this when the weather was agreeable).

I turned my attention to the journal in my hand, cracking it open to the last entry. I glanced over it before I began a new one and once more poured my thoughts, my heart out. And when the song ended, I hit the replay.

See, it wasn't so much that I had never gone times without Elladan here with me since things between us had changed from friendship to deeper…no, no, this was him leaving and that's what made his absence different.

And yet, if he was gone…why was he still so close to me? As I ruminated over that one, a gentle breeze tugged at my hair and I tucked a loose lock behind my ear. Not really able to come to much of a conclusion, I just continued in the journal.

He had my heart and that kind of complicated things if he wanted to back out now. The notion seemed so farfetched to me, because I would never have considered it of him. And yet, he wasn't doing all this the way most other people did. He was leaving me, not because he wanted to, but for me… Still, it was depressing, aggravating, confusing that he expected me to just move on without my heart. How could he really expect that?

It's been a long time coming, I can't stop loving you…

Finally, I sighed and looked up from the journal to cast my eyes around the outside world. It would be a beautiful day…sans the heat, that is. Yet, the loveliness of the day seemed lost to me. My heart hurt too much, had sunk a little too far.

I dropped my head back against the wall and thought over what I would have to do today; there was all the fallout of yesterday to deal with and I was not looking forward to that. For now, though, the day was still early and I would enjoy the morning before things got crazy.

So I got up, fixed the screen, and closed the window. I paused for a moment, taking one last look as I let my thoughts drift. Then I turned away to dress and fix my hair, checking my phone to see he still hadn't replied to my last text about it being too late. Oh, well. I couldn't make him see anything he didn't want to see.

I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and headed out back with my guitar in hand, to more fully take in a good morning, considering it was Texas in summer.

The world was quiet and peaceful, but even as I wallowed in it, I felt detached from it; there was too much turmoil inside of me and I was trying to fight waves of depression.

Music has always helped me through tough times and being able to play something myself worked even better, so I settled back and began to strum Taylor Swift's Innocent. It was fitting, I'd say. Not that he could hear.

Even though all of this gunk of my emotions was rife within me, I felt calm. And melancholy. And like crying. Go figure that one. And while I wept within, on the outside I was collected, composed. But my voice choked up on the last two words as I sang, "I hope you remember today is never too late to be brand new…" I breathed deeply, shakily, and swallowed hard.

Keep yourself together, girl. You're strong enough to weather this…you've weathered enough already. You can get through.

My voice was still shaky, though, watery at times, as I finished the song. After, I just tilted my head back and closed my eyes, breathing in and letting the sunshine fall on my face.

"You know, it's very apt," a voice commented from behind me, and I startled slightly.

I turned and saw Trelan leaning against the side of the house, arms folded and a quiet, sorrowed look on his face. "How long have you been there?" I asked.

"Long enough." He smiled sadly and came over to sit in the chair beside me. "How are you holding up?"

I shrugged. "Well enough, I guess. I just have to be able to concentrate today and I should be good."

He nodded. "Do you have a long day?"

"Kind of. I've got several deadlines approaching within the next few days. Plus, I've got to decide what to do about George."

"George?" He suddenly shot forward, nearly out of his seat. "What did he do?"

I momentarily considered deflecting his demanded question, but I realised that, being the perceptive person that he is, he's picked up that something more than what he already knew about had happened.

"Raina?" he pressed, worry creeping through his impatient tone.

"I had to leave work early yesterday because he was…being his obnoxious self."

Trelan stared at me and I knew he was picking up on what I meant, because his hand was clenched around the arm of his chair so hard the stretched skin had turned a livid white.

I searched for some way to reassure him. "Don't worry, Elladan took him down."

The wood-elf remained quiet but a brow quirked slightly as he settled back into his seat. After a moment, he finally commented, "So you've seen him since he disappeared."

"For two seconds. Then he took off."

He shook his head, exasperation rolling off him in waves. He didn't seem inclined to speak, so I left him to his thoughts and tried to settle my own mind. It wasn't really working, so finally I stirred and stood up.

"Well, I'm going inside."

He barely spared me a glance and a nod.

After depositing my guitar back in my room, I found Tira in the kitchen. She speared me with a stern glance when I entered and gestured firmly to the table.

"Sit. I made breakfast." She checked the oven, from which a most delicious smell was emanating. "Do you have work today?" she asked as she stirred something in a mixing bowl.

"Not out of the house." I answered, coming closer to peek at what she was making, but she waved me away.

"I said sit. I'm making breakfast."

"I can help," I offered, even as she shooed me away again, waving her hands and looking like a mother hen in a fluster of movement.

"Nope. Ro was helping me and that was all the help I needed. Do you know where he wandered off to, by the way?"

"No." I plopped into a seat, satisfying her. She finally stopped imitating a chicken and went back to work.

"Oh well. He'll be back in time for breakfast. He's notorious for having a sixth sense about the timing of meals. And you, you nift," she rounded on me and wagged a warning finger, "will eat. Mind you, I know all about your bad eating habits and I won't let you avoid breakfast this morning."

I sent her a smile, but it dropped when my eyes fell on three sheets of notebook paper sitting across from me. Definitely not where I had left them…and -when I pulled them towards me- not in the order I had left them, either.

"Tira…" I began slowly as I eyed the papers before me. She hummed a distracted acknowledgement. "Who's messed with my mail?"

"It was the elf, in the kitchen, with the, um…"

She easily enough imprecated herself, but… "The elf, as in, Ro?"

"Well, yeah. What other elf is there who was in the kitchen, with the, um…eavesdropping?"

I really wasn't sure how I felt about them snooping around in my mail. Tira, okay…I could understand that one. She can't resist these things. I'd probably have shared it with her anyway…maybe. I mean, it was Elladan's personal thoughts that he'd shared with me, and sharing them without his permission…oh, I didn't even want to think about it.

And Ro? Sure, Dan had told me to ask his brother for confirmation of some things he'd said in the letter, but why was I so uneasy at the thought of Elrohir getting this same glimpse I'd been given of Elladan's thoughts?

Probably because, even if I had asked Ro, that didn't mean I'd have let him read the whole letter. It all felt…intensely personal. Just between Dan and I. And I didn't want to break that confidence. Somehow, though, I inadvertently had.

What would Elladan say when he found out?

He'd entrusted this part of himself to me and it had been meant for my eyes alone…I didn't get the idea that he'd be too happy to find out his thoughts had been tossed around for viewing like pictures of a trip to far-off places.

"Okay, fine, yes…I read it. But it was for you I did it, you know."

I fought back a wave of possessiveness. I could understand where she was coming from and she'd meant no harm by it…but I also worried that Dan would feel that it had been a violation of his personal sanctuary, all those thoughts he kept under lock and key. He'd let me have a glimpse, but he might just decide to not "make that mistake" again.

I sighed and deliberately laid the papers back down, carefully choosing my words as I considered a response. "I understand the reason behind the choice you made. My concern is how El will feel about you both reading his thoughts…well, it's very likely he'll feel you took advantage of the confidence he did give me."

"Oh pooh, the guy has so many problems, a bit of a slight to his pride is barely a dent. He'll get over it sooner or later, and if he doesn't, I'll make him."

I sighed, feeling it was a lost cause to convince her that this violation of privacy wasn't a trivial matter. I could already imagine the explosion that would accompany Elladan snooping around in her private things, such as journals and the letters she had stuffed into an old, wooden box, locked by a key that she kept on her at all times…

I was about to give it up as a bad job when, with Tira pulling biscuits from the oven, Elrohir innocently strolled in. I tilted my head slightly, brow furrowing. The elf avoided my gaze, setting off warning bells in my mind about just how innocent his "innocence" was.

"There you are. Ran off and let me do all the work." Tira grumbled.

"I did not leave you all the work. I made the strawberries." Elrohir shot back.

Is that what she was making for breakfast…Strawberry shortcake, my favourite. She was trying to get me to eat.

"Well, put them on the table."

Oh, that nonchalance written all over his face as he did as instructed and had to come over to me to do so! Still, it was blatant he was not meeting my gaze, which confirmed his guilt.

I clenched my jaw and breathed deeply as I carefully folded the letter back up and slipped it into its envelope. I could pore over it later, when I had the time. For now…

I cleared my throat and said offhandedly, "Ro, I'm supposed to ask you a question."

"Er, okay. Yes, I like strawberry shortcake."

"Well, that's all well and good, but not my question unfortunately." I continued, nonchalant now myself. My eyes were focused on my hands as I cleared the space in front of me for a plate, but I noted -from the corner of my eye- the cornered look that flashed across his face. He knew what I was driving at and he'd been trying to get the jump on the wrong question in order to avoid it.

I set the letter aside and folded my hands in the empty space on the table. Pinning him with a look, I asked sincerely, "Is it true, that when Dan lets anyone in, it's destructive to that person?"

The reaction was instant. Tira dropped a biscuit, hissing as it fell to the floor in her obvious startle. Elrohir, however, blanched so swiftly and utterly, I almost feared he'd pass out. Wide eyes were focused on me frantically for a moment before he looked away and plopped into a chair as far away from me as he could get.

"I don't…he isn't…we're not…pass the strawberries?"

I stifled a sigh. "Sure, Ro," I answered amiably. "But you don't have a plate." I pointed out as I handed the bowl to him.

His lips tightened into a thin line as I called his bluff. I'd known him a bit too long to fall for his deflection.

Tira, biscuit and composure recovered from her startle, opened a cupboard in the background to retrieve plates.

I stared at him, silently conveying that I wasn't letting this go.

He avoided my eyes for a moment before gruffly snapping, "Look, I'm sorry I read your letter, alright?"

"I forgive you." I shrugged, waving it off. Frustration swept across his face at my blasé tone, knowing I wasn't moving on from my question. He remained stubbornly quiet, quickly attacking the food the moment Tira had brought plates and steaming biscuits over.

Tira sat down, brow furrowed. She'd stayed quiet too, but I guess she figured this was between Ro and me for the moment. Then again, her silent frown was directed at Elrohir, too, so maybe she was turning over in her mind the fact that he'd not answered the question yet.

"Elrohir," I said after the moment of quiet had stretched long enough. "Is it true?"

"I can't…don't ask me that question. I can't talk about it."

"Can't…" I repeated flatly. The way he'd said it… "Or won't?" I clarified gently.

Flashing eyes fastened on me. "And what difference does it make?"

"A lot. That word changes a lot." I looked at him earnestly. "What if I told you I need to know the answer?"

"You don't." He growled.

I really didn't appreciate that, but I kept my voice level as I pointed out, "Says you."

"Yes, says me!" he snapped.

"Cut it out, Elrohir." I shot back warningly, cautioning him against acting this way, as I came to my feet. "I asked you an honest question because I need an honest answer. I don't appreciate being lashed out at for no good reason except that you've got hostility issues. I'm not hungry right now," I informed Tira as I picked up the letter.

"And what if I said I needed to not talk about it?" Elrohir demanded.

"If you'd said it, that would've changed things." I replied before quickly leaving the room.

I'd needed to get out of there, before I really got angry. I'd kept as civil and calm as I could, but I knew it'd be best to get out of the confrontation before I started acting just as bad as he was. So I retreated to my room and my work.