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Elladan
Arwen was always so strong.
He never remembered her every crying, not even after mother came from her imprisonment. She changed her mother's clothes and sheets, coaxed her to eat, sat vigil with father and tended to her brothers. Elladan remembered she was always doing something to keep herself busy. They never had any need or want in her company.
But then one day they came to Imladris far too late that many feared the worst. It was then Arwen broke her composure.
"What will your lust for blood and death will accomplish?" She cried, slamming her hand on Elrohir's chest, startling him. Elladan too was stunned. Arwen never wept. She was as strong as the very bones of the mountain. And yet tears shone in her eyes. She turned her attention to Elladan. "Have you ever thought of those who wait for you?" She asked him. She threw the roll of bandages to the table and Elladan guiltily wore his shirt, hiding the bandage wrapped about his chest. If Arwen was ever upset by their wounds before, she never showed it.
Elrohir reacted first. He grabbed Arwen's wrist just as she reached for the door.
"Hush, little sister." He murmured and pulled her in a tight embrace. Arwen's shoulders shook. Elladan placed a calming hand on them.
"We are sorry." Elladan said softly. "We will be careful next time."
Neither of them promised to stop.
