Elrohir awoke with a groan. He rolled, expecting to come against Elladan's warm form, and instead groped thin air. He sat up with a jerk and looked for his twin.

Elladan sat at the window seat, his head bowed over the work before him on the wide ledge. Elrohir crawled out from under the blankets, biting back a low cry as his arms and back lit up in pain, and walked across the room.

Elladan's eyes squinted in concentration as he worked on the sketch in front of him, and Elrohir's small whimpers of pain did not do so much as to turn his head. Elrohir peered over his brother's shoulder to look at the drawing, and instant tears welled in his eyes, as well as love in his heart for his brother.

The drawing showed Elrond, careful strokes put into his detailed form, wielding the awful instrument of punishment in one hand, on a battle field surrounded by fallen bodies; shells of the dead. Elrohir lay on the ground a few feet away from Elrond, tumbled back, his face an expression of sheer terror and worry. But Elladan stood between him and his father, clad in gleaming armor, holding a sword and shield.

There were no words on the page but the message was clear. Elladan put down his pencil and looked at Elrohir as though he had known he was there all along. He reached up to wipe the tears on his brother's face away.

"That is the person I long to be," he said, gesturing to the sketch on the open page of a new book. "I wish to be a warrior so I can protect you from ada. I do not care so much about myself. But by the time I am that warrior, it will be too late . . . ada would have laid away the strap forever, as we will be too old. I want to be that person now but I cannot, and I have to live with that pain! It is unbearable."

"Thank you," Elrohir whispered, leaning into Elladan's embrace. "I feel better just knowing. Do not attack him now, muindor nin. He would only put you through an exorcism, and I could no bear seeing you put through that torturous experience."

Elladan closed the book, and made his way back to bed, wincing as his raw arms inflamed. Lest Elrond find the book and demand about the picture, he slid it into the bed, between the mattress and the frame. The bed creaked as he and Elrohir crawled into it, nestled beneath the covers, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

The twins awoke early so as not to be late for breakfast or for another day in the archery fields. After a hasty breakfast, and a hurried goodbye to their parents, Elladan and Elrohir grabbed longbows and quivers, and ran for the archery fields.

Faer stood waiting, leaning against the big rock. He straightened as the twins walked past him.

"We will begin again with your lessons as we did yesterday," he said. "Face your targets and begin. We will continue this lesson until you hit your target twenty four times out of twenty four, and then we will move the targets back ten feet."

Elladan's arms lit up as he reached for an arrow, and the movement of drawing back his longbow caused his muscles to ache. From the look on Elrohir's face he could tell his twin's arms hurt as much as his.

"Your arm strength is building," Faer said. "The pain will fade overtime."

Elladan winced, finding it more then relieving to release the string and let the arrow fly. Beside him, he could see similar emotions running through Elrohir's eyes.

The hour ticked by in familiar ritual. Faer stood behind the twins, and corrected stances, criticizing bad shots and offering helpful hints. As the lessons ground down to the last hour, Faer said, "You may take a short a break before continuing."

"Thank the valar!" Elrohir breathed, and collapsed without another word where he stood.

"Hannon le," Elladan said, twisting to look at Faer as he sat down with his longbow beside him.

"I will tell you when to resume shooting," Faer said. He nodded. "You are welcome. Your aim is improving. Nothing better then constant practice to hone your skills."

Elladan murmured an incoherent reply and turned to his twin. "I do not think I will sleep well tonight."

"I am not worried about rest," Elrohir said. "I am worried my arms will hurt too much to draw!"

Elladan grinned, and pulled Elrohir's hair. "How like you to see the ludicrous side of things!"

"It is not ludicrous!" Elrohir replied hotly. "It is something I love and cherish more then you! You will never hold drawing in as high a regard as I do."

"We are growing older," Elladan replied, tilting his nose into the air. "And as we grow, we grow apart."

"Ha!" said Elrohir. "If that is true, my heart weeps for us." He pulled his hair out of Elladan's fingers.

"But I wonder if it is true though," Elladan said, dropping his haughty air.

"I cannot think why it would be," Elrohir answered. "It is not as if age has anything to do with it."

"I suppose we will find out in another hundred years or so," Elladan said thoughtfully, leaning back on his hands.

"There is not anything to find out," Elrohir said. "If age parts us, it is a sad world we live in. And besides—"

"Break time is over," Faer said, clapping his hands. "On your feet. Let us work your muscles!"

The twins scraped themselves off the ground with rueful expressions, and murmured grumbles of, "It barely lasted ten minutes, and we had to waste the time talking about that!"


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