A/N: What, do I hear people asking for Elrohir/Glorfindel slash?? I
hadn't thought about making it serious between the two, but maybe you can
convince me…. ;) Oh, and a big thank you to those people who pointed out
mistakes in previous chapters so I can go back and fix them!
Part 12:
Elrohir woke with the sound of thunder crashing overhead. He jumped out of his bed and immediately fell back with a groan. He felt like he'd been trampled by a herd of wild horses and his vision wavered from the worst headache of his long, long life. He laid back panting and getting his bearings. For some reason, he was still wearing his clothes from the night before, though he had no memory of going to bed. The last thing he remembered was sitting by the edge of the river after he made Elladan upset.
Then Elrohir remembered. It was cold outside, and he tried to drown his sorrow in a bottle of feywine. And he had gotten it into his thick head that he should try to seduce Glorfindel.
He felt sick. Elves could easily die of grief--maybe they could die of embarrassment also. No, Elrohir thought, that would be far, far too easy an escape, even it meant scrubbing the floors of the Halls of Mandos for the rest of eternity.
Elrohir stumbled to the wash basin and splashed cold water over his face. He tried to decide who he should apologize to first—his brother, sick, injured and maybe dying in the next room, or a reborn Elf Lord known for taking Balrogs with him to the grave. He considered his choices as he changed his robes. Elladan was closer, he reasoned. And it wouldn't really be proper to let Glorfindel kill him before he apologized to his brother anyway.
He steeled himself as he opened the door to the conjoined room. He peeked around the corner to see if Elladan was sleeping. Elladan was not in bed-- Legolas was sleeping where his brother should have been. It seemed as though Elrohir had indeed missed a lot that morning.
"Elrohir," a soft, clear voice called to him.
Elrohir's head whipped around to see Elladan seated by the window. He had been watching Legolas sleep when his brother's head popped into the room.
"Where have you been?" Elladan asked.
"You told me to leave last night. I did."
"You have never listened to me before. I did not think you would choose now to do so."
Elrohir came fully into the room and closed the door softly behind him. He couldn't think of an answer and his eyes cast around the room desperately. "Are you well, Elrohir? You don't look it." Elladan asked.
"I…had a bit much to drink last night." Elrohir couldn't believe the malice in his brother's voice.
"Oh."
Twin eyes met silently for a moment. Elrohir fell to his knees in front of Elladan's chair. "I'm sorry for my words last night, Elladan. I did not mean—"
"You did not think, Elrohir. That has forever been your problem."
Elrohir's world crumbled in on him. The elf seated in front of him was not his brother. He could not be the same brother whose arms he had cried in when their mother left for the Havens. The real Elladan would never hurt him like that. He licked suddenly dry lips and pushed himself off the cold floor.
"If that is how you feel, Elladan, then I will not trouble you again. We used to be of one mind on all things, and I know now that it will never be that way again if you cannot sense how truly sorry I am."
Elrohir turned on his heel and left the room. Legolas blinked blearily from the bed, not quite believing the exchange he had just overheard. Elladan sat staring at his hands.
Elrohir raced to his father's rooms, but the Lord was not there. He could not think of whom else to turn to. He would have gone to his mother had she still been there. There was no way he could face Glorfindel, and Erestor would never understand. He collapsed into his father's armchair before the fire, burying his tears in his hands.
Elrond entered his rooms to see his son sobbing in a chair by the fire. Elrohir's long black hair was tangled and fell in a curtain around him, hiding his face.
"Elrohir? Why are you crying?" Elrond asked, coming to stand by the chair.
"He hates me! Elladan hates me!" Elrohir said in hiccups.
"Oh, Elrohir!" Elrond sighed. He pulled another chair to sit directly across from Elrohir, close enough that their knees touched. "Elladan doesn't hate you. He hates himself right now, and he's lashing out at you because he doesn't know what else to do."
"But Ada, everything I say or do…it just angers him more. I don't think I could face him again, but I can't just leave him alone."
"Yes, I know. He needs his family and people he loves to be with him, but it's a little hard to be near him at the moment."
Thunder crashed above them, making Elrohir jump. His father put a steadying hand on his knee.
"I wish your mother was here," Elrond murmured. "She could always handle your brother better than anyone."
Elrohir nodded. "He was her favorite, though," he said.
"They were forged with the same fire."
Glorfindel walked into the room, idly singing to himself. He stopped in shock when he saw the nerve-wrought twin and Lord Elrond.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Elrohir, if this is about last night, do not worry yourself so. It was not so great a matter as to deserve such tears!"
Elrond looked up at his captain in concern. "What happened last night?"
Elrohir and Glorfindel looked at each other quickly. "Nothing!" they replied in unison.
Elrond raised an eyebrow at the strange conspiracy, but let it rest. He would hear of it later if it was of any consequence.
Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass and shouting voices leaking in through the open door demanded all of their attention.
Part 12:
Elrohir woke with the sound of thunder crashing overhead. He jumped out of his bed and immediately fell back with a groan. He felt like he'd been trampled by a herd of wild horses and his vision wavered from the worst headache of his long, long life. He laid back panting and getting his bearings. For some reason, he was still wearing his clothes from the night before, though he had no memory of going to bed. The last thing he remembered was sitting by the edge of the river after he made Elladan upset.
Then Elrohir remembered. It was cold outside, and he tried to drown his sorrow in a bottle of feywine. And he had gotten it into his thick head that he should try to seduce Glorfindel.
He felt sick. Elves could easily die of grief--maybe they could die of embarrassment also. No, Elrohir thought, that would be far, far too easy an escape, even it meant scrubbing the floors of the Halls of Mandos for the rest of eternity.
Elrohir stumbled to the wash basin and splashed cold water over his face. He tried to decide who he should apologize to first—his brother, sick, injured and maybe dying in the next room, or a reborn Elf Lord known for taking Balrogs with him to the grave. He considered his choices as he changed his robes. Elladan was closer, he reasoned. And it wouldn't really be proper to let Glorfindel kill him before he apologized to his brother anyway.
He steeled himself as he opened the door to the conjoined room. He peeked around the corner to see if Elladan was sleeping. Elladan was not in bed-- Legolas was sleeping where his brother should have been. It seemed as though Elrohir had indeed missed a lot that morning.
"Elrohir," a soft, clear voice called to him.
Elrohir's head whipped around to see Elladan seated by the window. He had been watching Legolas sleep when his brother's head popped into the room.
"Where have you been?" Elladan asked.
"You told me to leave last night. I did."
"You have never listened to me before. I did not think you would choose now to do so."
Elrohir came fully into the room and closed the door softly behind him. He couldn't think of an answer and his eyes cast around the room desperately. "Are you well, Elrohir? You don't look it." Elladan asked.
"I…had a bit much to drink last night." Elrohir couldn't believe the malice in his brother's voice.
"Oh."
Twin eyes met silently for a moment. Elrohir fell to his knees in front of Elladan's chair. "I'm sorry for my words last night, Elladan. I did not mean—"
"You did not think, Elrohir. That has forever been your problem."
Elrohir's world crumbled in on him. The elf seated in front of him was not his brother. He could not be the same brother whose arms he had cried in when their mother left for the Havens. The real Elladan would never hurt him like that. He licked suddenly dry lips and pushed himself off the cold floor.
"If that is how you feel, Elladan, then I will not trouble you again. We used to be of one mind on all things, and I know now that it will never be that way again if you cannot sense how truly sorry I am."
Elrohir turned on his heel and left the room. Legolas blinked blearily from the bed, not quite believing the exchange he had just overheard. Elladan sat staring at his hands.
Elrohir raced to his father's rooms, but the Lord was not there. He could not think of whom else to turn to. He would have gone to his mother had she still been there. There was no way he could face Glorfindel, and Erestor would never understand. He collapsed into his father's armchair before the fire, burying his tears in his hands.
Elrond entered his rooms to see his son sobbing in a chair by the fire. Elrohir's long black hair was tangled and fell in a curtain around him, hiding his face.
"Elrohir? Why are you crying?" Elrond asked, coming to stand by the chair.
"He hates me! Elladan hates me!" Elrohir said in hiccups.
"Oh, Elrohir!" Elrond sighed. He pulled another chair to sit directly across from Elrohir, close enough that their knees touched. "Elladan doesn't hate you. He hates himself right now, and he's lashing out at you because he doesn't know what else to do."
"But Ada, everything I say or do…it just angers him more. I don't think I could face him again, but I can't just leave him alone."
"Yes, I know. He needs his family and people he loves to be with him, but it's a little hard to be near him at the moment."
Thunder crashed above them, making Elrohir jump. His father put a steadying hand on his knee.
"I wish your mother was here," Elrond murmured. "She could always handle your brother better than anyone."
Elrohir nodded. "He was her favorite, though," he said.
"They were forged with the same fire."
Glorfindel walked into the room, idly singing to himself. He stopped in shock when he saw the nerve-wrought twin and Lord Elrond.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Elrohir, if this is about last night, do not worry yourself so. It was not so great a matter as to deserve such tears!"
Elrond looked up at his captain in concern. "What happened last night?"
Elrohir and Glorfindel looked at each other quickly. "Nothing!" they replied in unison.
Elrond raised an eyebrow at the strange conspiracy, but let it rest. He would hear of it later if it was of any consequence.
Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass and shouting voices leaking in through the open door demanded all of their attention.
