Beta: Chris

A/N: Review Replies will go out soon!

/italics/ are thoughts

Elvish translations:

Elleth: female elf

Ion nin: My son

Iston, muindor nin: I know, my brother (by blood)

Laslaire: made up name; Leaf-Summer Summerleaf :o)

Mellyn: Friends

Naneth's: Mother's

Yen: The long year of the Eldar in Middle-earth, equal to 144 solar years

--oOo--

"Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay."

(Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost)

--oOo--

Chapter 37: Torturous Truth

„Elladan!" Elrond reached out to stop his son, but Elladan twisted in his grip and rushed past him, his face a mask of pain and anger. "Elladan, ion in…" Elrond called after his son, but Elladan simply hastened his steps and practically fled from the room.

His stomach clenching painfully, Elrond saw Elrohir exit the room, tears streaming down his face. He stopped in front of his father and shook his head. Elrohir opened his mouth, but no words came out, and with another shake of his head he eluded his father's grasp and ran after his older brother. Soon, the hallway was as silent as it had been before, and Elrond felt his knees become weak. It was as silent as in a grave.

/What does this mean? Have they drunken the antidote? Or has Aragorn drunken it? What, what does it mean/

The door to Aragorn's room had not fallen shut completely after Elrohir had left the room, but there came no sound from the inside. All that Elrond could hear was the crackling of the fire and the hissing of the candles that lined the corridor walls. Legolas and Mithrandir stood stock still behind him, too tense to move.

Knowing that he would never find out what had happened between his sons if he continued to stand motionless in the hallway, Elrond smoothed his robes and took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. The door in front of him looked suddenly very much like a rampart; impossible to climb and with nothing but the enemy waiting behind. And in this case, the enemy that Elrond feared was the truth that awaited him behind that door.

He knew how stupid that thought was, for whatever had happened was done and could not be changed. Still, as soon as he opened that door and looked into his son's face, he would know which son he was going to lose.

/I faced Sauron on the Dagorlad and fought side by side with Gil-Galad on the slopes of Orodruin, but never before have I felt so much fear. Not after Celebrian sailed./

Taking another deep breath, the Lord of Imladris reached out and laid his hand against the wood of the door. Slowly, he pushed the door open and peered into the room. A gust of cold wind blew into his face and sent a shiver down his spine, despite the elvish indifference to neither feel cold nor heat unless they were extreme.

Most of the candles in the room had been extinguished by the wind. But in the firelight that still fought for survival in the hearth, Elrond could see that Aragorn was not in the room. The doors to the balcony stood open, the heavy curtains fluttering in the wind.

His steps hesitant and his breath coming in shallow takes, Elrond slowly made his way over to the balcony. He knew what he would find even before he pulled the curtains away and stepped out onto the snow covered porch. Starlight bathed the balcony in a silver light, illuminating the tall figure that stood near the balustrade, leaning against the wood, head bent and shoulders hunched.

"Estel." Elrond's voice was barely above a whisper, but in the quiet of the night it carried across the balcony effortlessly.

"I could not let them die because of me," Aragorn said softly, his voice void of emotion. "I could not."

Elrond closed his eyes tightly. This was what he had dreaded and at the same time hoped to hear. For the fraction of a second he felt immense relief flood through him at the thought that the twins would live, but immediately guilt, so strong that it took his breath away, surged through him. Sadness, anger and a multitude of other emotions battled for supremacy inside his heart, and for long seconds he could do nothing but stay there, his eyes clenched shut, holding his breath.

Snow crunched, clothing rustled and in the next moment Elrond felt the warm arms of his son embrace him, holding him tightly. As if he was still an elfling, Elrond wrapped his arms around Aragorn, in that very moment unheeding of his son's injuries. He leaned his weight into Aragorn's, holding onto him as if the man was a lifeline. Hot tears streamed down his face and he took a few shuddering breaths.

"Shh, it is alright, Ada. It was my decision and I knew what I was doing." Aragorn began to rub Elrond's back in soothing circles, leaning into his father for support when his injured knee began to sway under him. Behind Elrond, two shapes appeared at the doors to the balcony, and with the help of the starlight Aragorn could make out the forms of Legolas and Gandalf.

Aragorn nodded in their direction and gave them a small, pained smile. A single tear fell from Aragorn's eye and he said softly, so that only his father could hear him, "I would do it again, Ada. I regret nothing."

--oOo--

"Dan, wait!" Elrohir shouted after his brother, but Elladan simply increased his pace, running down the stairs that let into the entrance hall. "Dan, please wait."

His long, dark hair streaming behind him, Elrohir hastened after his agitated brother, wishing to stop and talk with him. What had just happened had shaken Elrohir and he was not sure how he was supposed to react.

He felt angry at Aragorn for having forced him and Elladan to drink the antidote; sad because he knew his foster brother would die; confused, because this was not how it was supposed to be, and most of all he felt absolutely helpless. And he hated feeling helpless. Helplessness had been the emotion that he had felt when his mother had sailed, and it had driven his brother and him into a crusade of revenge that had nearly killed them.

Helplessness had been the emotion he had felt when Arathorn had died so many years ago, an arrow piercing his eye. That day, Elrohir had sworn to never feel so helpless again, and so far he had not broken that promise, always being prepared for all eventualities. But now, how was one supposed to be prepared for something like this? How was an elf supposed to prepare for death to come?

Elladan reached the entrance door and yanked it open, ready to escape into the darkness of the night and ready to flee from all that had just happened. Elrohir saw his brother step outside, but before Elladan had taken more than a few steps, he came to an abrupt halt.

Running only a few steps behind his brother, Elrohir barely avoided running smack into his brother's back, and when he had found his balance, he gazed upon the thing that had stopped his brother. Or rather, the person, who had stopped his brother.

"Halbarad, Glorfindel!" Elrohir exclaimed, for a moment too surprised to say anything more intelligent.

"Aye, young one." Glorfindel glanced at the twins and his face changed from amused to worried in the blink of an eye. "What happened?"

Angrily wiping the tears from his face, Elladan gestured behind him. "Estel happened. He…he…" His voice cracked and fresh tears began to fall. Before anyone could stop him, Elladan pushed past Glorfindel and a stunned Halbarad and vanished into the night, his feet not leaving impressions in the snow.

"Dan! Da-an!" Elrohir called after him, but Elladan did not stop in his flight. Sighing, Elrohir peered into the darkness for a moment, before he swallowed thickly. His throat hurt from his attempt to suppress his tears, and he closed his eyes briefly to control his emotions.

"Elrohir, what happened?"

With a sad look upon his face, Elrohir wiped the tears from his cheeks, just like his brother had done only moments prior. Sniffing one last time, he gestured at the front door. "We should talk inside."

Only now did Elrohir see the small group of rangers that stood quietly behind Halbarad, their faces showing their confusion. Obviously, the rangers had returned to Imladris after their search of the villages, and Glorfindel had told them the good news that they had found the lilies of the valley. But, Glorfindel had left the Last Homely House to check on the patrols before the antidote had been ready, and so far he knew not what had transpired.

Elrohir re-entered his home, letting the rangers and Glorfindel pass him by, before he closed the huge front door. He stopped a passing servant and spoke loud enough for all to hear, "Laslaire, would you please see the rangers to their rooms? I am sure they are tired from their journey and would like to refresh themselves. Perhaps the cook can send them something warm to eat and some spiced wine as well."

The servant nodded and began to move into the direction of the guest wing, but to his surprise the rangers did not move from where they stood in the entrance hall. The elleth turned a questioning look on Elrohir.

"Please, mellyn, Laslaire will show you to your rooms, where warmth and comfort will await you."

"With all due respect, Elrohir," Halbarad said, "but we would like to know how our Chieftain fares. Lord Glorfindel told us that the antidote was found. Is it true?"

Silence settled over the hall, so complete that Elrohir could hear his own heartbeat. All pairs of eyes stared at him and he felt his face pale. What was he supposed to tell them? Should he tell them the truth or rather a white lie? Was it not rather Estel's right to tell his men what had happened?

Taking a shivering breath and feeling his composure shake, Elrohir decided to say as little as possible right now. "Aye, the needed lilies were found and my father and Mithrandir have brewed the antidote."

The rangers exchanged looks, but their faces remained confused. Halbarad took a step towards Elrohir, spreading his arms wide. "Then, with all due respect, why do you look as if it was not so?"

Swallowing thickly, Elrohir could not help but shoot a quick look at Glorfindel. He had no idea what he was supposed to say, and he did not feel as if he could tell these men, although they were rangers, what had transpired.

Feeling rather helpless –again– Elrohir gestured at the servant. "Please, all will be explained in time. For now, Laslaire will show you to your rooms." When he saw the stubborn look in the rangers' eyes, Elrohir added, "Halbarad, if you will follow me, there are things I need to discuss with you."

Without looking back to check whether his orders were obeyed, Elrohir moved down the hall, into the direction of the library. A few moments later he heard how Halbarad told his men to go with the elleth and that he would speak with them as soon as he had any news on Aragorn.

Seconds later, Halbarad and Glorfindel sidled up with him, but neither of them spoke until they reached the library and Elrohir had closed the door behind him. Then, it began.

"Elrohir! What, in the name of Elbereth is going on?" Glorfindel grasped Elrohir's shoulders in a firm grip, his eyes serious.

New tears gathered in Elrohir's eyes, the pain of the knowledge he held was too fresh. "We will lose him, Glorfindel," he said quietly.

"Whom?" Glorfindel asked, but from what he had seen when returning to the house, he already expected the answer.

"Estel. We will lose Estel to the poison," Elrohir whispered, then turned around and made his way over to one of the windows that overlooked a part of the gardens.

Halbarad, who had paled visibly at his words, exchanged a questioning look with Glorfindel, but the elf waved a hand to silence him. Cautiously, Glorfindel approached the younger twin, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me, Ro."

Very rarely did Glorfindel use his abbreviated name, and Elrohir knew that Glorfindel was truly concerned. Crossing his arms across his chest and starring out of the window, Elrohir began to tell them everything that had happened since the elleth had brought them the lilies. He spoke haltingly at first, but then the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush.

"And now," he said sadly, "Estel is going to die and none of us can save him."

Silence settled in the room as they all digested the tale, but then Halbarad moved towards the door, his face ashen. "I have to talk to him. He promised. Curse him, he promised!" He almost yelled, threw open the door and ran down the hallway before either of the elves could stop him.

Elrohir made to follow him, but Glorfindel held him back with a hand on his arm. "Let him be. He aches as much as we do."

Elrohir nodded, before he turned his back towards the door and gazed once more out of the window. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around the younger twin and held him securely against his chest the same way he had done when Elrohir had been an elfling, while Elrohir cried silent tears. And in that moment, Glorfindel asked himself what all his strength and skill was good for, if he was not even able to keep the ones he loved from harm.

--oOo--

Halbarad could not believe what he had heard. How could Aragorn have done that? Had he not promised to hold onto hope? To not die? To not give up? Given, it had been either he or the twins and nobody should be forced to make such a choice, but right now Halbarad seethed with anger. Of course he did not want the twins to die, but in his opinion the elven twins had more chances of survival without the antidote than had Aragorn.

He knew that he was not truly angry at Aragorn, but his helplessness and frustration needed an outlet, and in that very moment Aragorn was a perfect scapegoat. It was easier to be angry with his friend than to be angry with himself or a long dead Gondorian.

Taking two steps at a time, Halbarad raced up the stairs leading to the first floor, hoping to find Aragorn still in his room. The elves that met him in the hallway gave him strange glances, but he ignored them. They were not important right now.

Almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste and still wearing the worn travelling coat he had worn when arriving from the trip to the human settlements, Halbarad threw open the door to Aragorn's room, not even bothering to knock.

The room was almost completely dark, and he had problems making out the two beings who stood at the open balcony door. Blinking and stopping in his tracks for a moment to give his eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness, Halbarad stared around. After a moment he saw that it were Gandalf and Legolas, who watched him from across the room. Aragorn was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is he? Where IS he?" He yelled, anger in his voice.

"Halbarad, what…" Legolas began, but Halbarad would have none of it. With two great steps he stepped into the room, repeating loudly, "Aragorn, where is he?"

The curtain behind Gandalf moved in the wind, and Halbarad could see the Lord of Imladris and Aragorn enter the room. Aragorn looked pale and worn, while Elrond looked dishevelled and…old. If that was possible with elves.

Not even noticing that Elrond had an arm wrapped around Aragorn's waist to keep him upright, Halbarad moved to stand directly in from of his Chieftain. "What did you do, Aragorn? You promised me!"

"Halbarad…" Aragorn began, but Halbarad interrupted him.

"No, none of it. Is it true? Is it true what Elrohir told me?"

Legolas and Gandalf, who had moved out of the way and now stood near the hearth, exchanged brief looks. From the look on Gandalf's face, the old wizard had been expecting this. He did not look in the least bit surprised. Legolas, on the other hand, felt as if someone had just punched him into the stomach. Never before had he seen the otherwise so calm and controlled Halbarad lose his temper; least of all with Aragorn.

Speaking calmly, Aragorn answered, "If Elrohir told you that I did not drink the antidote, then aye, it is true."

Disbelief mixed with anger on Halbarad's face and he shook his head, saying, "Why? They are elves, Aragorn! They had a chance, while you have not."

"It was my decision and I do not regret it," Aragorn said, shivering slightly.

"Your decision?" Halbarad began to pace the room. Pointing a finger at Aragorn, he said agitatedly, "No! No! It was not your decision to make. You cannot decide about your life, for it is not yours to decide over!

"Have you even thought about your people? About us? You have a responsibility towards us, and that means that you have to stay alive, Aragorn! Did you even spend one thought about the Dunedain?"

"Do you think I made this decision lightly?" Aragorn took a step away from Elrond, the pain in his knee forgotten for the moment. Another shiver crawled down his spine, but his voice was strong and resolute when he added, "I thought about it, Halbarad. And being heir of Isildur or not, this is my life and I decide about it."

"Oho, is that so!" Halbarad threw his hands in the air. "And have you thought about the fact that you are the last heir to Isildur, huh? Not the second last, no, the last. What do you think will happen to the Dunedain after your death?"

Taking another step forwards and beginning to tremble, Aragorn spread his arms wide in an attempt to calm his friend. "You managed quite well without me these last twenty something years. And you yourself set up the succession document, Halbarad."

Stopping in his tracks, Halbarad gave Aragorn an intense look and all the agitation and anger had left his voice when he spoke next. "That is not what I mean. Aragorn, what will happen with us? Me? You are not only our Chieftain, but our friend! My friend."

Sighing, Aragorn did not know what to say for a moment. It was true. When he had first come to the Dunedain, he had felt like an outsider, merely the returned Chieftain. But with the years passing, he had found new comrades and friends, had concluded marriages and been there when children had been born, celebrating with the parents and relatives.

His voice shook when he spoke, "I am sorry, Halbarad. But it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do."

Another tremor coursed through his body, stronger this time, and Aragorn shook visibly.

"Come here, Estel," Elrond said gently and placed a warm blanket around Aragorn's shoulders. "You should not have gone out into the cold, Estel. You are still weak from your wounds."

"I am alright, Ada," Aragorn said, but the trembling increased. Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders, ever mindful of the arrow wound that was still healing. "Maybe a bit cold."

"Then come here to the fire," Elrond said and guided Aragorn towards a high backed chair that stood in front of the fireplace. Legolas began to light the candles in the room which had been blown out by the wind, and Gandalf closed the doors to the balcony.

Wrapping another blanket around Aragorn's trembling shoulders, Elrond frowned, but said nothing. Placing another log into the hearth, he poked the fire with an iron poker until the flames burned brightly.

"Aragorn…I am sorry." Halbarad, wringing his hands, approached Aragorn. "I should not have said that."

Turning towards Elrond, he bowed his head. "I meant no disrespect towards you or your sons, my Lord. It was just, when I heard what had happened…" A great sigh left his lips and he moved a hand across his weary face. "What shall we do now?" he said softly.

"First, we see to it that Aragorn here gets something warm to drink. He is trembling like a little leaf in an autumn storm," Gandalf said, drawing the curtains before the windows to keep out the night's cold.

Wishing to do something and needing time to think about what had just occurred, Halbarad said promptly, "I will go to the kitchens, see if they can make a hot soup?" When Elrond nodded, he gazed at Aragorn, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then he reconsidered and simply nodded. The door closed softly behind him.

"Children," Gandalf huffed and settled down on the bed, rummaging in his pockets. After a glare from Elrond he sighed deeply and gave up the search for his pipe.

"Aragorn, are you sure you are alright?" Legolas asked, kneeling down next to the chair Aragorn occupied. Although he was swathed in two blankets now and the fire was roaring in the hearth, Aragorn was shivering and trembling strongly.

"Aye, j-just cold." Aragorn tightened the blankets around his shoulder, going so far as to draw up his uninjured leg for more warmth. The trembling had reached his arms and hands and his whole body felt the shivers coursing through him.

"Maybe some wine would not be wrong now." Legolas ventured, shooting a brief glance at Elrond, who frowned, but nodded.

"I will see to it. Maybe some miruvor will help warm you, Estel." Placing a hand on Aragorn's forehead, Elrond shook his head. "You have no fever, ion nin. Perhaps it would be a good idea to lie down and get some rest. And it will be warmer under the covers."

Nodding, Aragorn rose to his feet, but his body was trembling so strongly now that he was unsteady and had to grab Legolas's shoulder for support. Together with Elrond and Legolas, he made it over to his bed, sitting down heavily. Gandalf had removed the blankets and covers and was holding several pillows in his hands.

"Lie down, Estel. Careful with your leg now." Elrond helped Aragorn to lie down, taking the pillows from Gandalf to prop his head up. Spreading the woollen blankets over Aragorn, Elrond caressed his cheek gently. "Why don't you rest some while I get that wine?"

Because of another tremble that chose that particular moment to surge through him, Aragorn merely nodded. He did not feel cold at all now that he had sat near the fire, but he was unsure as to the reason he was trembling so strongly. Perhaps some wine and soup would help him calm down. After all, it had been a hard day.

Smiling down at his son, Elrond left the room to fetch the wine. Or better, some flask of miruvor; the strong liquid would not only drive off the cold but also revive some of Aragorn's spirits.

To say that Legolas felt awkward was the understatement of the yen. How was he supposed to feel now? Numerous emotions raged through him since the moment he had heard that the twins had drunk the antidote and that his friend would die. Anger, hurt, sadness, rage…relief, happiness, guilt. Could a person feel all that at the same time? Confusion, aye, he felt confused, too. And worried.

Sitting down on the bed, Legolas placed a hand on Aragorn's arm. "Estel, you are still shivering. Are you cold?"

"N-not really," Aragorn stuttered, and only now did Legolas notice that Aragorn's lips were very pale. Settling deeper into the soft mattress and pulling the thick blanket right up under his chin, Aragorn closed his eyes, concentrating on getting warm.

"Uhm, Mithrandir, would you please place another log on the fire?" Legolas asked uncertainly, but the wizard did not move. "Mithrandir?"

With a huge frown that made his bushy eyebrows meet in the middle of his face, Gandalf stepped up to the bed and then put a gnarled hand on Aragorn's brow. "Mhmm." His beard made a small hop when Gandalf bit his lower lip.

"Legolas, go and get Elrond," he said quietly, but with a sense of urgency in his voice.

"What? Why?" Confused, Legolas glanced first at Gandalf and then at Aragorn, whose lips had turned a faint blue. "Estel?"

"Legolas, go and get Elrond." Gripping Legolas's arm, Gandalf pulled the slender elf to his feet and gave him a push into the direction of the door.

On the bed, Aragorn began to tremble now in earnest. He opened his eyes, a small flicker of fear in them. "L-legolas? Mithrandir?" Another shiver shook him, making his teeth chatter.

"Shh, Estel, lie still." Gandalf soothed him, shedding his outer robe and rolling up his sleeves. Another strong shiver made Aragorn's breath shudder.

Looking up, Gandalf met Legolas's eyes. "Tell Elrond that the poison attacks again. Hurry."

It was as if someone had driven a knife into his stomach. Cold, hurting fear gripped Legolas and for a moment he was unable to move. The poison. Four days. Five weeks. Had Gandalf not told them that none of the victims had survived the poison longer than five weeks? Had it already been five weeks since they had been poisoned?

"Legolas!" Gandalf thundered, making Legolas jump. But the authoritative voice ripped him out of his shock, and with a last look at Aragorn, he turned on his heel and fled the room in search of Elrond.

--oOo--

"Elladan? Are you here?" After he had talked with Glorfindel and given voice to most of his emotions and fears, Elrohir had began to search for his missing twin. He knew that Elladan would not leave the grounds of Imladris. He had checked on the horses in the stable already and none was missing.

Without any clouds to cover the sky, the night was bitter cold. The upper layer of the snow had melted during the day due to the sunshine, but it had already frozen now, making the snow crunch even under Elrohir's light weight. Silver moonlight made the valley glimmer and glitter with sparkles of light, and with the help of the lit lanterns and the many torches that illuminated the gardens, Elrohir easily found his way around.

There were only a few places that Elladan used as hiding spots when he was hurt or upset, and seeing that Elrohir had already been to most of them without any success, he suspected that his missing brother was near.

"Dan? Please, answer me!" His voice echoed across the frozen garden eerily. In nights such as this one, with the snow and the stars and the cold, every sound seemed to be multiplied.

"Go away." Came a murmured reply, followed by a sniff.

"Dan?" Making his way around a snow-covered rhododendron, Elrohir finally found his older brother.

Elladan was sitting on a stone bench, head bent and hands folded in his lap. His long, dark hair fell around his shoulders, the braids having come loose sometime during his flight.

Sitting down next to Elladan, Elrohir asked softly, "What are you doing in naneth's garden, Dan? Come inside the house."

Shrugging his shoulders, Elladan did not answer and neither did he look up. Fiddling with his thumbs, he took a deep breath.

"Dan, I know you are angry and hurt. As am I. But…it was his decision, you know."

"No it was not," Elladan said, but although his words were meant very serious, his voice held no anger. "We are his older brothers, Ro. We are supposed to look after him, help him and keep him from harm."

Lifting his head, he turned teary eyes on Elrohir. "We should have forced him to drink the antidote."

"You know he would not have drunk it. And he made that fact very clear."

"You mean his threat to give back Iluvatar's gift?" Elladan wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffed again. "That was a bluff and you know it well. And furthermore, I doubt that Iluvatar would accept his gift at such a young age."

Smiling sadly, Elrohir commented, "Estel can be very stubborn."

A soft, short laugh left Elladan's lips. "Aye, that it true." Silence settled between them for a minute or two, before Elladan added sadly, "Now, Eru will have no other choice than to accept his life."

Squeezing Elladan's shoulder, Elrohir scooted closer. "He will not be alone in Mandos's Halls, Dan. Elros will be there and Arathorn. Gilraen."

"I know. But that does not make it any easier."

"Iston, muindor nin."

Giving his brother's shoulder another squeeze, Elrohir stood up. "Are you coming with me?"

"No, let me…let me sit here for another moment. I will come shortly."

"Alright." Elrohir took a few steps into the direction of the house, but then he stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Elladan, you know that Estel is no child anymore. Although we do not want to admit it in our hearts, he is a grown man and makes his own decisions. He knew what he did."

"Mithrandir?" Elladan asked, looking at his brother.

Elrohir smiled. "Glorfindel."

Turning, Elrohir made his way towards the house. A cold gust of wind made him shiver. Shiver? Elves did not shiver, at least not from the cold, unless it was extreme. Only now did Elrohir notice the tense feeling in his stomach and the darkness that nudged him at the back of his mind. It felt…it felt like it had felt only a few short weeks before, when he had felt Aragorn's predicament.

Just in that moment, a loud yell reached Elrohir's ears, coming from the Last Homely House.

"Lord Elrond!"

To be continued…

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