A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you for all of the WONDERFUL feedback I'm getting! I actually didn't think this story would take off at all, but you all make it so easy to keep writing! I'm becoming addicted to the reviews! Okay, enough rambling on. Here's the next part.

Part 7:

Erestor stood at the gates of Imladris, waiting anxiously for the arrival of Elrond and the small company that had set out to rescue Elladan. Lindir had arrived moments ago, announcing that Elrond had indeed found his son, and that Elladan still lived. In what state, Erestor knew not.

During the absence of Lord Elrond, Erestor used his duties to keep his mind from driving him mad with worry. Both of the twins' rooms were prepared for their arrival, though Elladan's slightly more comfortably so. It was not favoritism, Erestor reflected, as Elrohir would most likely spend every waking moment in his brother's room until Elladan was fully healed.

Erestor's nerves were on fire as he saw the horses come around the last bend in the cliff and start across the stone bridge. Glorfindel's powerful white charger led the way, followed closely by Elrond's own white horse and Elrohir's grey mare. Elrond was carrying a bundled up form in front of him across the saddle, and his horse was especially careful in picking a path over the narrow bridge. They were soon across and Erestor caught Elrond's reins, bringing his horse to a halt.

"My lord?" he questioned.

Elrond dismounted, cradling his precious burden closer to his chest. "He has been gravely wounded, but he will recover," he laid Erestor's worries to rest.

Erestor nearly fainted with relief, but he caught hold of his emotions and simply led the tired warriors to their rooms.



Elladan awoke as the sun slanted through the open window and fell upon his face. He could feel soft sheets and warm blankets tucked around him, and the sweet song of the birds outside his balcony reached his ears. Still, he was afraid to open his eyes and he felt unearthly cold, though the sun warmed the bed around him.

"Are you awake, Elladan?" an amused voice asked. "Or are you pretending as you did as a child? I promise no stable duty awaits you this morn, if that is any consolation."

Glorfindel immediately regretted his light words as Elladan did indeed open his eyes. The grey eyes, usually so full of play and wonder, were dull and deep with loss.

"Am I home?" he asked.

"Yes, Elladan, home in your own bed."

Elladan looked the room over. Yes, it was his room. There was the balcony overlooking the porch below and the river beyond; the door that led to Elrohir's adjoining room; the chair with the mended leg that he and his brother had broken years before. Yes, he knew this place. He took the time to take stock of his injuries, noting that his right leg was splinted and propped up on a pillow, and his left wrist was also tightly bound, though he didn't quite remember how that had broken. Oh yes, when the chains had…. He shuddered as the memories flooded back once again, and didn't allow his brain to continue that thought.

Glorfindel sat quietly, allowing Elladan all the time he needed to reacquaint himself with the land of the living and the familiarity of his bedroom. Still, he noted the shudder and grimace of pain with concern, and placed his hand across the elder twin's brow.

"Are you alright, Elladan?" he asked.

"No," he said quietly. "I do not think I should ever be quite right again." Glorfindel's heart broke as he searched for a response, but Elladan continued. "Father…he knew what was done to me. Do you also know, Glorfindel?"

"Yes," he answered honestly. He could not lie in the face of such suffering.

"How do you know? Did I tell you and not remember it now?"

"No, you had no need to tell us of what happened. It was evident when we found you, though I would give my life again and a thousand times over to have prevented it. Elrohir has no knowledge of it. He knows only you were wounded and poisoned."

Elladan shook his head sadly. "He knows. He knew it when I could not meet his eyes." Tears started to leak from his eyes and fall onto the pillow. "Or else he will know soon, whether he is told or not. No secret has ever lived between us."

Glorfindel reached out to comfort him, but he flinched from the touch before he realized it. "I'm sorry!" he choked, horrified at his own reaction. The tears came harder now in muffled sobs.

Glorfindel moved to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out again slowly so as not to startle the young elf. "Hush, it is no fault of yours," he murmured as he wiped the tears away. "Shall I send for Elrohir, or your father?"

"No, it makes no matter now," he sniffed. "'Tis better this way, that it was me and not Elrohir," he said, his voice becoming soft and fuzzy.

"Better if it was neither of you," Glorfindel replied quickly.

"No, Glorfindel. I am glad that it was I and not him. Elrohir has not taken a lover yet. He would not be able to hide." The last comment was sleepy, and it took a moment for it to sink into Glorfindel's understanding.

Elladan did indeed fare better than Elrohir would have. He was able to keep himself alive by hiding behind the memories of a lover's touch, and Elrohir would not have had that protection.

Erestor walked into the room, balancing a stack of linens and bandages, and a bouquet of wildflowers on top.

"Erestor, can you stay with Elladan for a while? I must find Lord Elrond and Elrohir."

"Yes, of course," the dark-haired elf replied. He watched as Glorfindel sped from the room, hoping it was good news he carried.



Elrohir stood in the courtyard, quickly tying his message to the small blackbird's leg. "Fly fast and true," he bade it as he let it go. He watched as it wheeled in the sky and headed east, towards his only hope for his brother's salvation.