The silence that descends upon the room after the departure of the dwarf suffocates me. Suddenly all Estel's anger, his unreasonable refusal to listen, our searing arguments, make sense. Still I look to Elladan in the hope he will somehow assuage my guilt.
"Tell me he cannot be right about this."
But Elladan does not give me what I want.
"I have been a fool," he says. "I have not looked closely enough. I should have thought of this before now. What has happened that I need a dwarf to tell me of my own brother's ailments?"
"So you think he is right?" I say it numbly. "You think we have missed this? Estel suffers from the same damage as Legolas?"
He looks wretched, my poor brother.
"Do not punish yourself for this," I tell him softly. "You have been struggling also. You have been swamped by Legolas' sealonging, drowning in your own. The dwarf does not know of it and if he did he would not have been so harsh with his judgement." I reach out a hand to touch and reassure him. It is a pathetic attempt really but what else can I do. "I should have thought of this, not you."
"I am the healer," he mutters bitterly. "I have been too caught up in my own anger."
He shrugs me off. He will not take my comfort. Instead he strides towards the door.
"Where do you go?"
"To Estel. Where else?" He is gone before I can stop him and I must jog to catch up, so determined is his stride.
"Now, Elladan? The dwarf will be with him. Do you think it wise? Perhaps you should calm yourself and take time to gather your thoughts?"
"Yes, now!" He turns on me, eyes flashing. "I have wasted enough time already."
He is right but still, it does not seem the best of timing to me.
Both the dwarf and Arwen are with Estel when we burst through his study door. He sits at his desk, surrounded by piles of documents, and he looks exhausted. Arwen has a letter in her hand as she sits beside him, obviously trying to help him work his way through the heavy load of paperwork he faces.
A shard of guilt pierces my heart as I gaze at the pair of them. I should have helped him with this.
He is not pleased to see us.
"Elladan." He says with a sigh, "Spare me the lecture. I have much to do. I know the fault for this all lies at my door. I do not need you to tell me yet again."
"I do not come to lecture you. I come to help you." A brilliant smile of relief bursts across Arwen's face at Elladan's words, but Estel only scowls.
"If you want to help me take Elrohir away from here."
I open my mouth to protest, to defend myself and Elladan's voice sounds clear in my head, Be silent Brother, he says, it will not go well if you argue with him now. It is a voice for me alone. The others do not hear it, and I hold my tongue.
Elladan himself ignores Estel's biting words. Instead he moves across towards the desk taking the paper from Arwen's hand as he does so.
"What is this?" he asks and he inspects it with a frown.
"Just one of hundreds of things I must attend to." Estel sweeps his hand across the desk with a hopelessness that makes my heart clench in worry for him. But Elladan merely smiles softly and pulls a chair up to sit beside him.
He places the letter to one side and picks up another, and another, until he has two piles in front of him. He has made but a tiny dent in the chaos on the desk.
"We will work on these tonight, you and I" he pulls one pile towards him. "It will be quicker with two, and these others," he sets the second pile off to one side, "These we will leave for Faramir, I think. There is nothing here which needs the attention of the King. I am sure there is more we can funnel his way when I look closely."
"In case you have not noticed, Elladan," Estel says bitterly, "Faramir is not here." He pushes my twin away and grabs another handful of papers from the desk in front of him as if Elladan's careful piles do not exist.
"But he will be," Elladan's voice is soft and gentle—soothing. In this moment he reminds me of my father. He is so much like him and I how miss him. I could use his guidance to steer me through this storm I find myself in.
"He will be, tomorrow evening," Elladan continues, "for I will send an urgent messenger for him tonight."
It is an inspired idea and something we should have thought of days ago. Get Estel help in the running of his city, get the clamouring lords off his back so he can rest . . . And heal.
But Estel does not think it inspired, or even needed. He reacts angrily.
"You will send a messenger?" He snaps, "Who are you to do that, Elladan? This is my city. I make the decisions here."
"Listen to Elladan, please, Estel." It is Arwen, resting her head gently upon his shoulder. "You know rest is what you need. For me, please."
He hesitates, she has found a chink in his armour, a pathway to commonsense. Always she has been his weakness. I wonder if she nudges his mind in the direction it needs to go? Of all of us, Arwen is the most like Galadriel, though she seldom indulges in her abilities and never, I think, with Estel.
Whatever— Elladan sees his opportunity in that hesitation and pushes his argument home.
"Come, Estel. You know a great King is one who can ask for help when he needs it. I know my Father will have told you that. You need Faramir now so I will call him for you. It is his job—let him do it. You will rule Gondor all the better after rest." He invokes our Father and it works. If anyone could tell Estel what to do it was he . . . And Gimli, apparently, for the dwarf chooses this moment to chime in with his own opinion.
"Do not be a fool, Aragorn! You are as bad as that stubborn, wilful elf."
And Estel smiles. He smiles through his tiredness and fatigue, through the now obvious wavering of his focus.
"Not that bad surely, Gimli?"
"It is a near thing. A near thing indeed," the dwarf grumbles. "Let your brother help you, or so help me I will take the pair of you, you and Legolas, and deposit you outside the city so you can be stubborn on your own time without bothering us."
I wonder at what magic this dwarf possesses. What is it that allows him to speak to my brother—to Legolas, with such bluntness and have them open their minds and listen where they would not listen to me. How does he handle them so adeptly? For Estel caves. His stubborn resistance disappears before our eyes.
"That does not sound particularly restful." He rubs a weary hand across his face. "Very well, call him. Call Faramir, Elladan. I cannot pretend the city does not get away from me." And he lets the clutch of paper in his hands fall in a jumbled mess on top of the rest that lay across his desk.
"Good." Elladan says firmly. " Now let us get on with this Brother." He is strong and sure. He leaves Estel no room to doubt as he begins again to file the documents into order and it is with some relief, I think, Estel lets him.
Arwen stands then, running her hand softly through Estel's unruly curls as she does, a gesture of care and love.
"We will leave you." She says gently. "I will send some food, and word to Faramir." She kisses the top of his head before she walks towards me where I stand inside the door. "Come brother," she takes my arm as she passes, the dwarf trailing after, "Let us leave them in peace and quiet."
But I am reluctant. Elladan has walked in here and introduced calm to Estel's chaos. There must be something I can do also . . . Something . . . I feel helpless.
Look after Legolas for him. Elladan's quiet voice echoes through my head. That is what you can do. Leave me to care for him here.
I look one last time at the two of them, dark heads bent over the pile of work in front of them, Elladan, slowly, gently, taking control, guiding Estel towards order and calm.
I am useless here, and so I leave.
"I am please to see you listened to me then!" Gimli barely waits for the shutting of the door before he accosts me. "And not before time."
"Of course we listened. What do you take us for?" I am not in the best of moods and I want to listen to his lectures no longer. But he is not yet done.
"You should have been here earlier. Your brother is supposed to be a healer and yet he has been blind, deliberately blind."
I will not let him disparage Elladan further. Not one word.
"Elladan has his own problems," I hiss, "and you know them not. Do not judge him for you are wrong."
"Then inform me if you would, The only problem I see is negligence!" The dwarf is still angry, perhaps with good reason but I can feel things sliding away from me. His criticism of my twin upsets me and my control slips away. This will deteriorate into a brawl if I am not careful.
"It is not for me to tell and it is not for you to know!"
"Elladan has the sea-longing." Arwen's soft sad voice cuts across my strident one and brings me to my knees. "He has the sea-longing, Gimli, and caring for Legolas has been causing him to drown in it. Do not judge him harshly for he does not deserve it. He is as much a victim of the sea as Legolas."
My breath catches within my chest for she knows.
"You know?" I gasp as I turn to gaze at her, "you know?"
"Of course I know. He has tried to hide it but I have known for years. How could I not Brother?"
"And Estel? Does he know also?" It breaks my heart. Am I the only ignorant one?
"No. I have not told him and he will not sense it. He loads himself with guilt over Legolas. I would not add to that and have him know he holds Elladan here also."
"How can this be?" The Dwarf asks, "I thought the sea-longing was not an ailment you Noldor could suffer from. This makes no sense to me." I realise that, despite his closeness with Legolas he is still ignorant when it comes to our people, our history.
"We are more than Noldor." I snap. "It seems you do not know as much about us as you thought. Do not pigeonhole us for there is more to us than that." My words sound bitter as I feel bitter, full of anger at my Brothers fate, my fate, and my powerlessness against it.
It is Arwen, as always, who intervenes and calms my soul.
"Walk with me, Elrohir." She takes my arm and leans into me. "I need to get food for they will need it, and send this message to Faramir, and you need to see Legolas and keep him safe for me, for Estel. We cannot afford the time to stand around discussing our heritage now!"
And when I turn to look down at her I see the tiredness in her eyes, I hear the worry in her voice, and it fills me with sorrow.
"I have failed you." I cannot bare to think upon how badly I have let her down as I left her to wallow through this alone. I knew she was struggling and have given no thought to it.
But Arwen denies it as she guides me down the corridor away from Estel's study. She denies in it a voice that allows no room for protest.
"You could never fail me, Elrohir, never."