Part XXVIII

'I resent that. I was not frightened, I was just taken by surprise. And I would not have broken my arm if... well, if it had not gotten caught beneath me.'

For a moment, stunned silence filled the area. Elrohir would have laughed at the looks of astonishment on the up-turned faces of Elrond and Arwen but his throat tightened so suddenly that he felt he could hardly breathe. Feeling slightly dazed, he followed his twin down the tree and threw his arms around his stunned father and sister.

Arwen was alternately laughing and crying, dwarfed between her tall brothers and father. 'You... you idiots,' she sobbed into Elladan's chest. 'You might have been killed, you know.'

Elladan laughed softly, sounding a little strained despite his valiant attempts at hiding his emotions. 'Don't worry, muinthel,' he reassured. 'We tried our best to keep a safe distance from Estel and Legolas.'

Arwen laughed, the sound crumbling into shuddering cries at the mention of her betrothed. 'I was so afraid... for all of you. I thought at least one of you would be killed and – and...'

Elrohir kissed the side of her head. 'We survived, Arwen. Some better than others, but that is beside the point.' He sent a mischievous glance towards Elladan, who returned it with a mock glare of his own, already feeling the concerned gaze of Elrond.

'I survived very nicely, if I may say,' he retorted. 'The scar is already fading, Adar. No pain whatsoever, and the resulting stiffness was gone within a few days of Elrohir removing the stitches.'

'I will take your word for it this time,' Elrond replied wryly, embracing the twins once again. 'Words cannot express how relieved I am to look upon you again, my sons. Since you left that day with Halbarad and his men, I have interceded daily with the Valar on your behalf. In spite of that, I never truly thought this day would come.'

'We had our doubts too,' Elrohir admitted. 'But that is in the past. We are here, and tomorrow we shall travel to Edoras, and from thence to Minas Tirith.' He glanced from his father to Arwen and back. 'Estel is waiting.'

Once the initial reunion was behind them the twins greeted their grandparents, who also expressed their joy at seeing their daughter's sons alive and well. Glorfindel then materialized from seemingly nowhere and pulled them into the circle of warriors, all of whom were eager to hear the tale of the battle at the Black Gates.

'And afterwards?' Beriadan pressed, silver eyes sparkling with excitement. 'What happened after the battle?'

'What happens after every battle,' Elladan answered, his tone bearing a slight undertone of sarcasm. Now that the adrenaline of being reunited with his father and sister had worn off, he was exhausted. 'We stacked corpses, burned corpses, buried corpses, and mourned those of our friends who did not survive.'

Arching an eyebrow at his twin, Elrohir turned to the abashed Beriadan. 'Do not listen to him. He is grumpy because he lost our wrestling match, and because he allowed Alya and Emerion to sneak up on us.' Ducking the smack aimed at his head, the younger twin continued. 'The battle and its aftermath over with, we gathered at the Field of Cormallen, and there waited for the Ringbearer and his companion to recover from their wounds.

'From thence we continued on to Minas Tirith where, in due time, Aragorn was crowned king. Elladan and I accompanied the young king of the Riddermark, Eomer, back to his realm. Three days ago we departed from Edoras, having received word of a fairly large party of Elves travelling towards the city. And so here we are.'

The group broke up camp early the next morning, eager to continue their journey to the city of Edoras. The arrival of the twins had brought enthusiasm and joy to the otherwise rather sombre company. Not only had they been dearly missed by their family and friends, but the travellers had been anxious to hear more detailed, reliable news of the recent events.

Elrond grinned to himself as he watched his sons being roped into retelling their adventures with the Grey Company and the Paths of the Dead yet again. That particular story had swiftly become one of the favourites among the young (and not-so-young, Elrond amended, seeing Glorfindel edging his horse nearer to the twins') warriors.

'And what of the Corsairs?' a young scout inquired, unable to hide his curiosity. 'Were they as fearsome as the tales make them out to be?'

'Oh yes,' Elladan scoffed. 'They were as fearsome as inebriated pirates come. The greater part of them did not even seem to realize they were under attack until it was too late.'

'There was one poor fellow who seemed a little less out of it than his companions,' Elrohir took up the story. 'Such was my first impression at least. He hurled a dirk hilt-first at my face but missed by an arm's length. Upon his failure to take me down, he stood up to make a second attempt, tripped over his chair and broke his neck when he tumbled through a trapdoor.'

'Strange,' murmured Glorfindel to himself. 'I am vaguely reminded of the time Elrond did very nearly the same thing. Only he nearly fell over the edge of a flet when he saw the fair daughter of Celeborn pass beneath him for the first time.'

'That was a completely different incident,' Elrond retorted from where he rode a few paces behind the Balrog-slayer. 'For one thing, I was not drunk. For another thing, I was not a pirate. And for a third thing, I did not fall and break my neck.'

Glorfindel cast his friend a mischievous glance which clearly stated that he doubted the accuracy of the first point, at least. To his credit, however, he refrained from continuing the debate.

Hours passed as the party made their way back towards Edoras. They kept up a moderate pace, neither lingering nor pushing the horses beyond their limits. The hope was that they would reach the city the following evening if all went according to plan.

Towards that end, they continued onwards until the sun set, casting darkness over the seemingly endless plains. It was half past the ninth hour before Glorfindel finally signalled a halt and the exhausted riders gratefully dismounted.

Their steeds cared for by the light of the hastily kindled fire and the soft glow of torches, the Elves ate a quick meal of lembas and dried fruit before themselves retiring for the night. Arwen sat for some time on her bedroll near the fire, observing the warriors as they performed their nightly duties around camp, ensuring their lord's and lady's safety.

Following Celebrian's capture and subsequent sailing, Glorfindel had doubled the standard number of guards per watch whenever Elrond or his daughter travelled outside the Valley. The eight Elves allotted to the first watch spread out around the bivouac's perimeter, sharp eyes piercing the deepening gloom.

Tearing her gaze from the gently waving grasses of the prairie surrounding them, she replaced it on the figure of Elrond beside her. The Elf-lord's eyes were fastened on the night sky, watching as he always did for the brightest, most distant star to appear on the horizon. Every evening for as long as Arwen could remember, she had seen Elrond thus: grey eyes searching eagerly for the pinprick of light that was his father.

A soft rustle of fabric behind her left shoulder was the only sign of her brother's arrival. Elladan wrapped an arm around her shoulder, placing a quick kiss on the side of her head before turning knowingly to Elrond. 'He is hard to see here, our grandfather,' he said softly, following his father's gaze. 'I have searched many times over the past several months, but I have yet to be successful.'

At last Elrond turned from the sky to glance at his son beside him. 'Do you know, Elladan, that it has been over three thousand years since last I saw these particular constellations? Yet every time, I had only to locate Lîfgetwinnan to find Vingilot also; a third star, twice as brilliant, between the heads of the twins.' Returning his eyes to the sky, he paused for only a moment before nodding towards one of the hundreds of constellations. 'And there he is.'

His son and daughter followed his gaze, both equally shocked as they watched the Mariner's ship shimmer into existence. Vingilot, while placed further back in the heavens than most other stars, shone more brightly than its companions, making it easy for even an inexperienced eye to pick it out.

Elladan glanced at Arwen in surprise before returning his attention to Elrond. 'Do you mean to suggest, Adar, that your father follows you wherever you travel? If so, forgive me for saying so, but that does explain away some of your... overprotective tendencies.'

'Really, brother,' Arwen reproved him, twining her arm through Elrond's. 'I think it is sweet, Adar,' she continued. 'And I am glad that you had him for company all those years.'

Elladan sighed, realizing he had again neglected to take into account the various ways his words could be taken. 'As am I,' he agreed. 'I am sorry, Adar. My intent was not to be unfeeling, and I regret that my words gave that impression.'

Elrond opened his mouth to assure his son that he had not been offended, when a fourth voice broke into the conversation.

'What, my brother is being brash and unfeeling again? Well, well, at least you know we are not imposters.' Elrohir joined his family, giving his father and sister a bright smile despite the darkness that mostly hid it. Only Elladan knew the extent to which he had missed them during the last several months, and now that they were back together again he felt practically giddy with exhilaration. 'Elladan, Glorfindel needed one more person on third watch tonight, so I volunteered on your behalf.'

The elder twin nodded, still berating himself for his lack of sensitivity. Belatedly registering his twin's words, he sent Elrohir a half-hearted grimace. 'Thank you, I'm sure,' he muttered, but contrary to what was normal, further sarcastic commentary did not issue from the twin's lips. 'I suppose I had better seek him out then.'

Glorfindel was not difficult to find, sitting next to one of the watchfires as he was. The flames reflected brilliantly off his golden hair and illuminated his face as he absently whetted his ornate hunting knife.

Seating himself next to his captain, Elladan pulled out his own knife and whetstone. 'My brother was thoughtful enough to put my name forward for the watches tonight,' he commented wryly. 'I shall have to remember to return the favour one of these days.'

Glorfindel grinned. 'I did consider assigning him the job in payment for his... generous offer, but he put forward several rather good excuses.'

The elder twin arched an incredulous eyebrow, easily recognizing Glorfindel's sarcasm for what it was. 'Such as?'

'Such as your penchant for stargazing, for one,' the captain supplied helpfully.

'I never imagined you would be one to consider habitual stargazing as a point in favour of a warrior, particularly while he is on duty,' Elladan retorted, flicking his eyes up from where he had been concentrating on honing the edge of his blade. 'I would rather expect you to reward such negligence with six months of meal preparation and dishes duty, with an ear-scorching tongue-lashing for good measure.'

Glorfindel chuckled quietly, the sound drawing a quick smile from Elladan as well. 'You sound as though you speak from experience.'

Instantly Elladan's fire-lit features transformed into ones of pure innocence. 'I? Not at all, I assure you. I am sure I am the very picture of an ideal soldier: calm, collected, and alert at all times; gallant -'

'-Conniving, and almost as handsome as myself.' Elrohir's merry voice broke in from directly behind him. He watched in glee as Elladan started slightly, not quite able to conceal his surprise at the newcomer's presence. Seating himself on the ground before his brother and captain, he continued onward solemnly. 'One attribute which is grievously lacking in you, my poor brother, is the virtue of humility,' he lectured, electing not to acknowledge the hypocrisy of his words. 'But as our elders are so fond of saying, you are young yet and time tempers even the most trying tendencies.'

Elladan rolled his eyes to the heavens, pointedly ignoring Glorfindel as the elder Elf failed to contain a laugh. 'Spare me your dimwitted ramblings, brother, I beg of you. I have better things with which to occupy my mind.'

'Such as stargazing,' Elrohir supplied, nodding wisely and swiftly gaining his feet. 'I will leave you to it, brother. I also have matters of great import to which I must turn my mind. Quite by accident I discovered that our sister has a store of dried cherries stowed at the bottom of her pack. As she has yet to offer me some by her own free will, I am off to exude all the brotherly charm that remains after this delightful conversation. Farewell.'

Some time later most of the Elves had either retired or were singing softly around the fire. Flames illuminated their faces and cast long shadows on the ground behind them, causing a lone observer to lose himself in recollection. Elrond, who previously had been pacing silently through the camp, came to a halt as he recalled the hundreds of times he had witnessed this same scene during his years as Gil-Galad's herald.

It had been thousands of years earlier, he mused as his eyes wandered over the scene, and yet he still remembered even the most minute details. The smells of sweat, blood, and herbs as he worked tirelessly to preserve the lives of his comrades; the expressions of hopelessness and homesickness that shone dully in the eyes of the hale...

Yet in the midst of it all, some of the warriors, mortal and immortal alike, found it within themselves to gather around the fire during the hours of respite they had from fighting. Those brave souls would rally together in a valiant attempt to raise their companions' spirits with songs and storytelling, making them all forget for a few precious moments the perils and the darkness that surrounded them.

A small, grim smile touched Elrond's lips before a touch on his arm brought him back to the present. Galadriel, ghostly in her white gown, appeared at his elbow.

'You are lost in thought tonight, my friend,' she said softly. 'Why do you not join us at the fire?'

The Peredhel looked over the camp before replying. Four smaller watchfires burned at the perimeters, next to the nearest of which sat his eldest son and the Balrog-slayer. His gaze returned to the Elves gathered around the central fire before shifting to the figures of his daughter and second son, who were earnestly involved in an intriguing debate. He watched as the twin endeavoured to distract his sister while reaching inconspicuously for her pack at the same time. Evidently his attempts at subtly were in vain, for Arwen noticed the creeping hand and dealt it a sharp smack before drawing the pack to a place of safety behind her.

The argument continued on for some moments before his daughter began to relent. Elrohir pressed his advantage by drawing a tin of chocolate from his tunic's pocket and offering her a square. Elrond could not restrain a chuckle from escaping as he watched Arwen stare at her brother until he grudgingly added a second square to the first. With a smirk of satisfaction, the Elf maid dug into her pack and retrieved a small glass jar. She poured half its contents into Elrohir's outstretched hand, plucking her payment from her brother's hand before he could rescind his offer.

Elrond glanced away from the successful negotiation and smiled at his mother-in-law. 'Thank you, my lady. I think I will.'

TBC...

A/N: Good grief, finally! This chapter took me SO long to write. It ended up a little lengthier than normal as it just didn't want to end, but hey. At least I finished it!

Also, concerning constellations - I am well aware that they would have changed with the seasons, meaning that Lîfgetwinnan (Old English for 'twins', a.k.a. Gemini in our galaxy) wouldn't always be visible to Elrond while he was at war. I'm just pretending I didn't retain anything from my grade nine astronomy course. :D

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! :)