A/N: Here's another part. I'm writing fast because I'm between midterms and I have time, but I'm probably going to slow down a bit after this. But don't worry, I won't abandon Elladan!

Part 4:

Elladan awoke to the sounds of battle. He could hear the shouts of orcs and the clang of weapons, but it sounded far away, too far away to be considered. He was so tired, and everything hurt so much. He was still lying half-twisted on his side, arms bound behind him. It was cold. He tried to draw his knees to his chest, to warm himself a little, but the pain was too much and his body didn't want to obey his commands. He shut his eyes tight to control his ragged breathing. His chest ached the most, as if someone had packed snow under his skin and the cold infested his bruised ribs, freezing his heart and lungs.

A strangely out of place breeze drafted through the cave. It brought the sharp, acrid smell of smoke, but it was also too far away to be bothered with. Elladan distantly wished for fire, for perhaps the licking flames could thaw the chill he felt. But damp stone did not burn, he thought mournfully. Iron chains did not either. Orcs burn. That thought made him smile a little. So did elves.



Elrond kept his back to Glorfindel as they fought the orcs in the tight passage. The narrow walls kept the orcs from attacking en mass, forcing them to face the elves one or two at a time. It was no challenge, and the last few cowered and ran, choosing to face the fire and daylight at the entrance rather than the two terrible warriors that dealt death so coldly.

Glorfindel bent to retrieve a torch that one of the now dead orcs carried. "A little light would aid us," he said. Elrond smiled grimly in reply, but kept his sword unsheathed.

They followed the passage the orcs had come down, led on by instinct and Glorfindel's sight in the shadow world. Glorfindel's time in the Blessed Land and rebirth to Middle Earth gifted with the ability to walk in two worlds at once, a talent he brought to bear now.

They did not encounter any more orcs; Elrohir and the guard were fierce and experienced, and swift in the slaughter. The passageway was short, and they found themselves in a small cavern. Glorfindel gasped as he saw Elladan, bound and bloody, lying on a stone slab against the far wall.

Elrond hurried to his son's side. Elladan did not respond at first, though he moaned as Elrond ran his hands over his bare body, checking the extent of his wounds. Glorfindel set the torch in a sconce in the wall, and tore his cloak into strips to serve as bandages.

"Elladan?" Elrond whispered. "Can you hear me?"

Elladan's eyes flickered open, casting about the shadows for his father's voice. "Ada?" His voice was hoarse and broken, so unlike Elrohir's clear voice that echoed back into the caverns from outside.

Elrond's face was grim as he saw the two knife wounds that traced Elladan's ribs. The edges of the wound were dark and bled black, a sure sign of some poison at work. His skin was cold to the touch, and his lips were tinted blue. Glorfindel moved to his side and began to work on the shackles around his wrists. They came off with a soft click, and Elrond bent to wrap his cloak around the still form.

"No…" Elladan tried to fight him, though he could barely move.

"Shh, Elladan. Hush. It is Ada and Glorfindel, remember?" Elrond soothed.

Understanding lit the soft grey eyes for a moment. "Ada…Elrohir! Where is Elrohir? He promised…"

Glorfindel turned away, pretending to keep watch for orcs in the passage. He could not bear to see proud Elladan so badly broken.

"I know he promised," Elrond continued as he bound the worst of his wounds. "He's outside, waiting for you. Now I'm going to pick you up, Elladan."

Elladan nodded a little, wincing as he did. He was tired and cold and he hurt, but Ada and Glorfindel would take care of him, he was sure. And Elrohir was waiting for him, just outside. Elrohir was safe.

Elrond lifted Elladan to cradle him in his arms. His head fell against Elrond's shoulder, eyes closed in unconsciousness once again. Glorfindel took up the torch as they made their way out of the now deserted caverns.





Elrohir stood cleaning his sword, waiting anxiously for his father to return. He surveyed his handiwork; the bodies of many orcs littered the entrance and the forest floor beyond, but not one elf was lost or even seriously wounded. Dark storm clouds crowded the horizon, threatening rain, so he sent half of the guard to make camp in a well-know clearing that was not far off. He dared not enter the cave, as his father had ordered him to stay outside and he had no wish to go against his father's commands.

Elrohir's hopes were answered as he saw his father and Glorfindel exit the cave. His father had a limp form bundled in a cloak cradled in his arms. He sheathed his sword and rushed up to them, but Glorfindel caught him around the shoulders.

"What is it, Glorfindel?" Elrohir asked. "Why will you not allow me to see my own brother? Is he….?"

"No, no Elladan still lives," Glorfindel said softly. "But there is naught you can do to help him at this point in time. He needs your father's healing, and that you cannot help him with that. There are other things that need your tending."

Elrohir fought with his tears. He had to be strong. Elladan would need him to be strong for him. He would not cry again.

"I understand," he said quietly. Glorfindel released his hold on the twin's shoulders, allowing him to straighten. He drew in a breath with only a slight shudder. "The bodies of the orcs….they should not be left to befoul the woods. Leave me a few elves and we will dispose of them whilst you and Father take Elladan to the camp. I have already sent half the guard ahead, so the way will be clear and the camp will be ready when you arrive. It is in the clearing west of here that you know of as well as I."

Glorfindel enfolded Elrohir in an embrace, knowing he needed it, young elf lord or not. "You impress me every waking day, Elrohir. You have done well. Fear not for Elladan."

Glorfindel stepped away and returned to Elrond's side. He was settling Elladan across his horse. The great white animal stood very still and quiet; he knew he would have to be careful on the forest paths and not jostle the poor, hurt elf he carried.

"Elrohir has arranged a camp and shelter for the night," Glorfindel said.

"How far? Elladan cannot be moved far on horseback."

Glorfindel shook his head. "Not far, and the paths are easy. We will get there before full dark, even riding slow."

Elrond looked relieved as he mounted up behind Elladan. "Blessed Elrohir," he sighed. "Let us be off, then," he called aloud.

Elrohir, along with three of the house guard, did not heed the call. He clutched his sword and watched as his father bore his brother away.