Once the twins arrived in Imladris, and explained the situation to their father, Elrond quickly went into action, reminding the Elders around him that he had been, and still was, an elf that did not take threats on his family lightly. The best guards were organized, armed, and set to preparing for a raid on the orcs.
Elrond found a quiet moment to speak to Elladan, and knowing that something was vastly bothering the elf. Elrond asked him what troubled him and the reply gravened the ancient elf.
"I fear for Elrohir, Ada." Elladan looked up beseechingly at his father. "I do not believe that we will find Arryn alive, and if we do, I am terrified to think of the shape he will be in. Elrohir loves Arryn. If he is dead, I believe that Elrohir will lose his mind. He already grieves deeply for being unable to save him from capture."
"What do you suggest?" Elrond's deep voice was calm.
"Can you ask him, Ada, to stay home from this hunt? I do not wish him to see Arryn's body- he would not be able to survive that." Elladan felt guilt for deciding this for his brother, but he knew his words to be true.
And so it was done. The party left Imladris with no fanfare but well wishes, and the promise to bring back Arryn, no matter his condition. Elrohir sat alone high up on the tower, praying for his beloved.
For six days, it was thus, Elrohir watching all day for signs of the party returning home with an injured elf. For six days, Elrohir slept little, and ate less, worried sick with fear for his family and his lover.
Finally, the sharp-eyed elf spied rising dust in the distance. With an overjoyed whoop, he leapt down from the tower, running full tilt to the courtyard where the company would soon enter. It never crossed his mind that the returning elves could be bringing bad tidings. They couldn't be, his mind told him. They just couldn't be. Arryn will be with them, safe, just as Elladan said he would be, and all will be well again.
Unable to contain himself, Elrohir ran as fast as he could down the road to meet the party. Skidding to a stop beside his father, he mumbled a quick greeting, all the time looking wildly around for Arryn. When he spotted the redheaded pale figure being supported by one of the guards, he cried out in alarm and tried to run to him.
Elladan swung down off his horse, and caught his twin around the waist. "No, Elrohir, don't."
The quiet, sorrowful words paused the struggling elf. Stunned, Elrohir turned to his brother, looking into they eyes so like his own. "What has happened to him, Brother? What gives you all such sorrow in your eyes?"
It was Elrond who finally spoke. "He is not well, my son. We shall have to see how he recovers. Until then, please, stay away from him. I don't want you to get hurt."
"Hurt?" Elrohir was incredulous. "Arryn would never harm me!"
Elladan shook his head. "He is not... he is not the same, my brother. Please, just for now, believe us. When we get him to the Halls of Healing, we will see." He gave his twin a leg up into the saddle, swinging up behind him.
Elrohir made no more protests, but continued to look back at the body of his love, so still, so pale.
This can't be... he thought despairingly. This cannot be.
*~*~*
Elrond settled the injured elf as best he could, tending to his physical injuries easily: the chest wound was cleaned out and a poultice put on it, various cuts and scrapes easily dealt with. The great lord was disturbed at the blood, fresh and old, caking his thighs; when he turned the redhead over he quickly saw the reason for it. Applying an aloe to the riven flesh, he cleaned away the blood efficiently, getting rid of any traces that Elrohir may find. His son would have enough to deal with upon the injured one's awakening, he would not add a rape the victim would not remember to his anguish.
Elladan, who was telling his brother of the situation in which they found Arryn, was currently detaining Elrohir in the next room. Elrond only hoped that the younger twin was not making light of any of the situations, it had been a long, hard battle, but the elves had been very lucky: they only lost one warrior.
The ancient elf finished wrapping the slash on Arryn's thigh, and wandered over to his shelves, looking for a sedative. He found the red substance, and pried the other's mouth open, before dribbling some of it down his throat. The elf swallowed reflexively, and Elrond heaved a sigh of relief. The sedative should keep Arryn sleeping peacefully for at least a day, allowing Elrond to have a rest after breaking the news to his son.
The lord replaced the stopper, and put the bottle back on the shelf. He went over to the door and called his sons in. The two filed in silently, Elladan giving his father a harassed look. Elrond smiled a bit at that, then turned to look at Elrohir. He was a sight indeed.
Red-rimmed eyes stared at him hollowly, deep bags giving testimony to the sleep that Elrohir did not get while the party was away. He fairly swayed with exhaustion, and Elrond could not bear to tell his son now. Better that he sleep a little, and receive the news with a level head. He cupped his son's cheek in his hand, smiling a little. "Arryn is asleep now, and will probably stay that way for a good while. Why don't you get some rest as well?"
Elrohir shook his head defiantly. "I will not leave him."
Elrond smiled sadly. "I know you will not. I meant, take a bed in the room here. Sleep here tonight; Arryn will feel you near-it will comfort him."
Elrohir nodded at that, and stumbled to the bed nearest his lover, falling onto it and pulling the blanket up to his chin. He was asleep almost immediately.
Elladan turned to his father, keeping his voice low. "Are you sure that is a good idea, Father? I mean, what if Arryn wakes up?"
Elrond was watching his slumbering son. "He should not. It will be perfectly safe."
"But Ada! Arryn is mad! He killed Filgor when he awoke to see him standing over him! What if he doesn't recognize Elrohir?" Elladan was beside himself with worry.
"Elladan, calm down. I gave Arryn enough sedative to keep him asleep for at least a day. Elrohir *needs* to be here with him. If you are so worried, take the other bed here, so you can be here in case something happens."
Elladan did not look pacified, but he realized the sense in his father's words. Elrohir *did* need to be near his lover, he could feel the stress slowly breaking his brother. The time together would do them good. He nodded his acceptance and lay down on the bed opposite his brother's.
Elrond took one last look around the peaceful room, and then retired to his own chambers. As he left he did not notice the eyes of his supposedly sleeping son wide open in the dark, filled with fear for his lover.
*~*~*
The frantic pounding on his door jerked Elrond back into consciousness. Groaning in a very un-lordly way, he rolled out of bed and staggered to the door. "What is it?" he asked blearily. "Is there something wrong with Arryn?"
Elladan was on the other side. "Ada, please. Come quickly. He has woken, and is trying to destroy the room!"
Elrond pulled the door open fully, rushing out into the hall, not bothering to pull on his robes of office. He wouldn't need them anyway; the loose breeches and shirt he wore were covering enough in the humid summer air.
The Elven lord ran down the corridor, his son trailing after him, speaking frantically. "He woke up about twenty minutes ago, and was fairly calm, but when Elrohir awoke and touched his shoulder, he spun and threw him against the far wall. He was hitting Elrohir, punching him in the stomach, face, everywhere he could hit. It took three of us to pull him off."
"How is Elrohir?" Elrond questioned, fearing for his other sons' well being, physically and mentally.
"I do not know, after we had Arryn restrained, I left to get you," his son said guiltily.
The two Elves reached the entrance to the Halls of Healing, and burst in the door. Elrond's eyes were drawn to the slight redheaded figure lying on the bed, being forcefully restrained from movement by four burly guards. The lord quickly crossed to stand beside the prone body, looking cautiously into the frantically darting eyes. Arryn's copper hair was plastered to his forehead; his lips were bleeding from being bitten through.
Elrond looked up. Elrohir was standing on the other side of the redhead, trying to soothe him with light strokes on his hair, and whispering endearments to him. The other looked up at him despairingly. "Ada, what is wrong with him? He does not even know me."
Elrond did not answer, instead turning away to the shelves to fetch a calming medicine. He pulled out a vial of red liquid, and unstoppered it. Walking back over to his patient, he told the guards, "Hold him tightly. I have to get this in his mouth- he will not like it." To Elladan, he instructed to pry open the clenched mouth. Elrohir tried to help, but Elrond told him to keep doing as he already was, calming him down.
It took several tries and not a few minutes, but they succeeded in getting Arryn to swallow the potion. Soon, the elf was unconscious on the bed, utterly unaware of the turmoil and pain around him.
*~*~*
Elrohir followed his father silently back to the lord's chambers, trying not to remember the insane shrieks of his lover just a few hours ago. The elder elf opened the door and allowed his son to enter before him. Elrohir calmly walked over to the balcony before starting to shake. Elrond caught him just before his knees gave out, and held him close as sobs wracked his frame.
Easily picking up his son, the lord carried his burden over to the bed, before settling down on the soft blankets, still cradling the distressed elf. Rocking gently, Elrond offered no words of comfort; for there were none to be said. He let Elrohir alternately cry and rage against him, allowed him to batter his chest with futile fists, and then held him as his strength gave out and the elf finally gave in to an exhausted sleep.
This was how Elladan found the two the next morning, the elder with his arms wrapped around his son, the child-who-was-not with his head pillowed upon his father's breast. The dark-haired elf silently let himself into the room, lying down on the bed beside his family. He wrapped a soft arm around his brother and father, holding them both against the terrors of the waking world.
"What are we going to do? he wondered.
*~*~*
Elrohir woke first, startled from a dream of his lover. He turned over, seeking the warmth of Arryn's body, and came face-to-face with his brother. He jerked back, and then realized that he was resting against his father's chest. Confused, he tried to remember why he was in his Ada's room.
His movements had awoken Elrond, and the ancient elf reached up, petting Elrohir's hair. "Ada," Elrohir sighed, relaxing against him. "I had the most awful dream. I dreamed that Arryn had been captured by orcs, and that they had driven him mad... it was terrible. He did not recognize me, Ada, and when I tried to comfort him, he attacked me." Elrond did not answer.
"Ada?" Elrohir asked plaintively, looking up into the elf's sad gray eyes. He looked down to see his twin looking at him with the same sadness. "It... It was not a dream... was it?"
Elladan shook his head; tears spilled down his cheeks. "Oh, Elrohir, I'm so sorry..."
"No..." he whimpered, burying his head in his father's chest. "No... It can't be true... It cannot be..." He barely felt it when the other two wrapped their arms around him, holding him, and sharing in his grief.
Elrohir violently shrugged out of the two embraces. "NO!" he shouted. "You are lying! He is not mad! He is not!" He took several deep, frantic breaths. "Elladan!" he cried. "You promised! You said that he would be alright! You *promised* that he would be alright!" With a betrayed look at his brother, he ran from the room, colliding with Glorfindel as he left. Stunned, the blonde elf picked himself up from the floor and entered his lord's rooms.
Elrond and Elladan were climbing off the bed to follow, and both looked up worriedly as Glorfindel entered. "Is Arryn alright?" Elladan asked immediately.
"Yes," the lord answered. "But he will awaken soon, I believe. You may want to be there, especially if Elrohir is headed there at this very moment."
For the second time in only a few hours, Elrond found himself running down the hall at full tilt, with Elladan just behind. The three entered to see Elrohir sitting beside the unconscious body of his lover, holding his hand and stroking his hair back. The grief-stricken elf was whispering to his lover, and it pained all three observers to hear what he said.
Glorfindel touched his lord's hand and the three quietly slipped out, shutting the door enough to give the two inside some privacy. None were trying to over hear what was said, but it brought sadness to all those around to listen to the one-sided conversation.
Elrond and Elladan exchanged distraught looks. What were they going to do?
*~*~*
Elrohir sat on the edge of the bed, his love's cold hand in his, gently brushing back the once-fiery red hair from his unseeing eyes. He was unaware that he spoke, and from that moment on could never have told another soul what happened.
"Arryn," he whispered, "Arryn, can you hear me?" He received no answer, but he went on talking anyway. "They tell me that you are mad, my love. My brother and my father say that you are mad. I did not want to believe it; I did not believe it for as long as I could, but oh my love. Last night, I was there, it was me there trying to comfort you, and you did not recognize me. We are lovers and you did not even know my touch. Oh love, I am so frightened. What will I do without you?"
Elrohir leaned forward and rested his head on the broad chest, pushing his nose into Arryn's neck. He felt hot tears creeping out of the corners of his eyes, and tried to squeeze his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay, but it was no use. He clung to his unresponsive lover and cried like a small child, devastated at the thought of losing his beloved. He looked up very slowly when he felt the hand rest on his back lightly. He looked into his lover's eyes: awake, but unaware. He saw Arryn's hand on his back, but there was no consciousness in the dull green eyes. Elrohir leaned forward desperately and kissed the slack mouth, but once more there was no response.
Another bout of sobs caught in his throat. His lover was gone, all that was left was a hollow shell, and Elrohir knew that there was nothing of Arryn left to him. When the sedative wore off, the redhead would become like the orcs that had tormented him: violent, cruel, and unfeeling.
Stumbling back from the bed, Elrohir felt the hand on his back slide away to fall limply back on the bed. Eyes wide to prevent more tears, he turned from the sight and looked at the shelves around him. Nightshade, nightshade and aconite, that was what he needed.
With shaking hands, he took down the vial, and carefully unstoppered it. Slowly so as not to spill any, he walked back to the bed, looking down at the shell below him. He leaned down once more to press a kiss to the lips of his once-lover, and carefully poured some of the liquid into the mouth of he-that-was-Arryn. Elrohir massaged the white throat and felt it when he swallowed.
He replaced the stopper, put the vial of poison away, washed his hands in the basin, and was about to leave when he looked back at the body on the bed. He watched as the beautiful green eyes of the one he had loved closed forever. Sighing, he walked back over, and pulled a sheet off another bed, then covered the corpse, pausing only to touch its cheek once more before pulling the sheet over its face.
Elrohir pushed the door open, looking unsurprised at the audience outside. He glanced at his father, noting the tear-tracks on his face. Elrohir opened his mouth as if to speak, but did not, turning instead to head back down the hall to his room.
Elladan found him later in Arryn's chambers, lying on the bed, curled around tightly around a pillow. The twin quietly walked over, and sat on the bed beside him. He was not acknowledged for a long time.
Finally, Elrohir spoke. "I leave on the morrow. I go to hunt all orcs. To revenge both Mother, and now Arryn. Will you accompany me?"
Elladan nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He left the room as silently as he had come, going to speak to his father about provisions. As he left, he heard a soft sob behind him, but did not stop, leaving Elrohir to his memories and his tears.
Elrond found a quiet moment to speak to Elladan, and knowing that something was vastly bothering the elf. Elrond asked him what troubled him and the reply gravened the ancient elf.
"I fear for Elrohir, Ada." Elladan looked up beseechingly at his father. "I do not believe that we will find Arryn alive, and if we do, I am terrified to think of the shape he will be in. Elrohir loves Arryn. If he is dead, I believe that Elrohir will lose his mind. He already grieves deeply for being unable to save him from capture."
"What do you suggest?" Elrond's deep voice was calm.
"Can you ask him, Ada, to stay home from this hunt? I do not wish him to see Arryn's body- he would not be able to survive that." Elladan felt guilt for deciding this for his brother, but he knew his words to be true.
And so it was done. The party left Imladris with no fanfare but well wishes, and the promise to bring back Arryn, no matter his condition. Elrohir sat alone high up on the tower, praying for his beloved.
For six days, it was thus, Elrohir watching all day for signs of the party returning home with an injured elf. For six days, Elrohir slept little, and ate less, worried sick with fear for his family and his lover.
Finally, the sharp-eyed elf spied rising dust in the distance. With an overjoyed whoop, he leapt down from the tower, running full tilt to the courtyard where the company would soon enter. It never crossed his mind that the returning elves could be bringing bad tidings. They couldn't be, his mind told him. They just couldn't be. Arryn will be with them, safe, just as Elladan said he would be, and all will be well again.
Unable to contain himself, Elrohir ran as fast as he could down the road to meet the party. Skidding to a stop beside his father, he mumbled a quick greeting, all the time looking wildly around for Arryn. When he spotted the redheaded pale figure being supported by one of the guards, he cried out in alarm and tried to run to him.
Elladan swung down off his horse, and caught his twin around the waist. "No, Elrohir, don't."
The quiet, sorrowful words paused the struggling elf. Stunned, Elrohir turned to his brother, looking into they eyes so like his own. "What has happened to him, Brother? What gives you all such sorrow in your eyes?"
It was Elrond who finally spoke. "He is not well, my son. We shall have to see how he recovers. Until then, please, stay away from him. I don't want you to get hurt."
"Hurt?" Elrohir was incredulous. "Arryn would never harm me!"
Elladan shook his head. "He is not... he is not the same, my brother. Please, just for now, believe us. When we get him to the Halls of Healing, we will see." He gave his twin a leg up into the saddle, swinging up behind him.
Elrohir made no more protests, but continued to look back at the body of his love, so still, so pale.
This can't be... he thought despairingly. This cannot be.
*~*~*
Elrond settled the injured elf as best he could, tending to his physical injuries easily: the chest wound was cleaned out and a poultice put on it, various cuts and scrapes easily dealt with. The great lord was disturbed at the blood, fresh and old, caking his thighs; when he turned the redhead over he quickly saw the reason for it. Applying an aloe to the riven flesh, he cleaned away the blood efficiently, getting rid of any traces that Elrohir may find. His son would have enough to deal with upon the injured one's awakening, he would not add a rape the victim would not remember to his anguish.
Elladan, who was telling his brother of the situation in which they found Arryn, was currently detaining Elrohir in the next room. Elrond only hoped that the younger twin was not making light of any of the situations, it had been a long, hard battle, but the elves had been very lucky: they only lost one warrior.
The ancient elf finished wrapping the slash on Arryn's thigh, and wandered over to his shelves, looking for a sedative. He found the red substance, and pried the other's mouth open, before dribbling some of it down his throat. The elf swallowed reflexively, and Elrond heaved a sigh of relief. The sedative should keep Arryn sleeping peacefully for at least a day, allowing Elrond to have a rest after breaking the news to his son.
The lord replaced the stopper, and put the bottle back on the shelf. He went over to the door and called his sons in. The two filed in silently, Elladan giving his father a harassed look. Elrond smiled a bit at that, then turned to look at Elrohir. He was a sight indeed.
Red-rimmed eyes stared at him hollowly, deep bags giving testimony to the sleep that Elrohir did not get while the party was away. He fairly swayed with exhaustion, and Elrond could not bear to tell his son now. Better that he sleep a little, and receive the news with a level head. He cupped his son's cheek in his hand, smiling a little. "Arryn is asleep now, and will probably stay that way for a good while. Why don't you get some rest as well?"
Elrohir shook his head defiantly. "I will not leave him."
Elrond smiled sadly. "I know you will not. I meant, take a bed in the room here. Sleep here tonight; Arryn will feel you near-it will comfort him."
Elrohir nodded at that, and stumbled to the bed nearest his lover, falling onto it and pulling the blanket up to his chin. He was asleep almost immediately.
Elladan turned to his father, keeping his voice low. "Are you sure that is a good idea, Father? I mean, what if Arryn wakes up?"
Elrond was watching his slumbering son. "He should not. It will be perfectly safe."
"But Ada! Arryn is mad! He killed Filgor when he awoke to see him standing over him! What if he doesn't recognize Elrohir?" Elladan was beside himself with worry.
"Elladan, calm down. I gave Arryn enough sedative to keep him asleep for at least a day. Elrohir *needs* to be here with him. If you are so worried, take the other bed here, so you can be here in case something happens."
Elladan did not look pacified, but he realized the sense in his father's words. Elrohir *did* need to be near his lover, he could feel the stress slowly breaking his brother. The time together would do them good. He nodded his acceptance and lay down on the bed opposite his brother's.
Elrond took one last look around the peaceful room, and then retired to his own chambers. As he left he did not notice the eyes of his supposedly sleeping son wide open in the dark, filled with fear for his lover.
*~*~*
The frantic pounding on his door jerked Elrond back into consciousness. Groaning in a very un-lordly way, he rolled out of bed and staggered to the door. "What is it?" he asked blearily. "Is there something wrong with Arryn?"
Elladan was on the other side. "Ada, please. Come quickly. He has woken, and is trying to destroy the room!"
Elrond pulled the door open fully, rushing out into the hall, not bothering to pull on his robes of office. He wouldn't need them anyway; the loose breeches and shirt he wore were covering enough in the humid summer air.
The Elven lord ran down the corridor, his son trailing after him, speaking frantically. "He woke up about twenty minutes ago, and was fairly calm, but when Elrohir awoke and touched his shoulder, he spun and threw him against the far wall. He was hitting Elrohir, punching him in the stomach, face, everywhere he could hit. It took three of us to pull him off."
"How is Elrohir?" Elrond questioned, fearing for his other sons' well being, physically and mentally.
"I do not know, after we had Arryn restrained, I left to get you," his son said guiltily.
The two Elves reached the entrance to the Halls of Healing, and burst in the door. Elrond's eyes were drawn to the slight redheaded figure lying on the bed, being forcefully restrained from movement by four burly guards. The lord quickly crossed to stand beside the prone body, looking cautiously into the frantically darting eyes. Arryn's copper hair was plastered to his forehead; his lips were bleeding from being bitten through.
Elrond looked up. Elrohir was standing on the other side of the redhead, trying to soothe him with light strokes on his hair, and whispering endearments to him. The other looked up at him despairingly. "Ada, what is wrong with him? He does not even know me."
Elrond did not answer, instead turning away to the shelves to fetch a calming medicine. He pulled out a vial of red liquid, and unstoppered it. Walking back over to his patient, he told the guards, "Hold him tightly. I have to get this in his mouth- he will not like it." To Elladan, he instructed to pry open the clenched mouth. Elrohir tried to help, but Elrond told him to keep doing as he already was, calming him down.
It took several tries and not a few minutes, but they succeeded in getting Arryn to swallow the potion. Soon, the elf was unconscious on the bed, utterly unaware of the turmoil and pain around him.
*~*~*
Elrohir followed his father silently back to the lord's chambers, trying not to remember the insane shrieks of his lover just a few hours ago. The elder elf opened the door and allowed his son to enter before him. Elrohir calmly walked over to the balcony before starting to shake. Elrond caught him just before his knees gave out, and held him close as sobs wracked his frame.
Easily picking up his son, the lord carried his burden over to the bed, before settling down on the soft blankets, still cradling the distressed elf. Rocking gently, Elrond offered no words of comfort; for there were none to be said. He let Elrohir alternately cry and rage against him, allowed him to batter his chest with futile fists, and then held him as his strength gave out and the elf finally gave in to an exhausted sleep.
This was how Elladan found the two the next morning, the elder with his arms wrapped around his son, the child-who-was-not with his head pillowed upon his father's breast. The dark-haired elf silently let himself into the room, lying down on the bed beside his family. He wrapped a soft arm around his brother and father, holding them both against the terrors of the waking world.
"What are we going to do? he wondered.
*~*~*
Elrohir woke first, startled from a dream of his lover. He turned over, seeking the warmth of Arryn's body, and came face-to-face with his brother. He jerked back, and then realized that he was resting against his father's chest. Confused, he tried to remember why he was in his Ada's room.
His movements had awoken Elrond, and the ancient elf reached up, petting Elrohir's hair. "Ada," Elrohir sighed, relaxing against him. "I had the most awful dream. I dreamed that Arryn had been captured by orcs, and that they had driven him mad... it was terrible. He did not recognize me, Ada, and when I tried to comfort him, he attacked me." Elrond did not answer.
"Ada?" Elrohir asked plaintively, looking up into the elf's sad gray eyes. He looked down to see his twin looking at him with the same sadness. "It... It was not a dream... was it?"
Elladan shook his head; tears spilled down his cheeks. "Oh, Elrohir, I'm so sorry..."
"No..." he whimpered, burying his head in his father's chest. "No... It can't be true... It cannot be..." He barely felt it when the other two wrapped their arms around him, holding him, and sharing in his grief.
Elrohir violently shrugged out of the two embraces. "NO!" he shouted. "You are lying! He is not mad! He is not!" He took several deep, frantic breaths. "Elladan!" he cried. "You promised! You said that he would be alright! You *promised* that he would be alright!" With a betrayed look at his brother, he ran from the room, colliding with Glorfindel as he left. Stunned, the blonde elf picked himself up from the floor and entered his lord's rooms.
Elrond and Elladan were climbing off the bed to follow, and both looked up worriedly as Glorfindel entered. "Is Arryn alright?" Elladan asked immediately.
"Yes," the lord answered. "But he will awaken soon, I believe. You may want to be there, especially if Elrohir is headed there at this very moment."
For the second time in only a few hours, Elrond found himself running down the hall at full tilt, with Elladan just behind. The three entered to see Elrohir sitting beside the unconscious body of his lover, holding his hand and stroking his hair back. The grief-stricken elf was whispering to his lover, and it pained all three observers to hear what he said.
Glorfindel touched his lord's hand and the three quietly slipped out, shutting the door enough to give the two inside some privacy. None were trying to over hear what was said, but it brought sadness to all those around to listen to the one-sided conversation.
Elrond and Elladan exchanged distraught looks. What were they going to do?
*~*~*
Elrohir sat on the edge of the bed, his love's cold hand in his, gently brushing back the once-fiery red hair from his unseeing eyes. He was unaware that he spoke, and from that moment on could never have told another soul what happened.
"Arryn," he whispered, "Arryn, can you hear me?" He received no answer, but he went on talking anyway. "They tell me that you are mad, my love. My brother and my father say that you are mad. I did not want to believe it; I did not believe it for as long as I could, but oh my love. Last night, I was there, it was me there trying to comfort you, and you did not recognize me. We are lovers and you did not even know my touch. Oh love, I am so frightened. What will I do without you?"
Elrohir leaned forward and rested his head on the broad chest, pushing his nose into Arryn's neck. He felt hot tears creeping out of the corners of his eyes, and tried to squeeze his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay, but it was no use. He clung to his unresponsive lover and cried like a small child, devastated at the thought of losing his beloved. He looked up very slowly when he felt the hand rest on his back lightly. He looked into his lover's eyes: awake, but unaware. He saw Arryn's hand on his back, but there was no consciousness in the dull green eyes. Elrohir leaned forward desperately and kissed the slack mouth, but once more there was no response.
Another bout of sobs caught in his throat. His lover was gone, all that was left was a hollow shell, and Elrohir knew that there was nothing of Arryn left to him. When the sedative wore off, the redhead would become like the orcs that had tormented him: violent, cruel, and unfeeling.
Stumbling back from the bed, Elrohir felt the hand on his back slide away to fall limply back on the bed. Eyes wide to prevent more tears, he turned from the sight and looked at the shelves around him. Nightshade, nightshade and aconite, that was what he needed.
With shaking hands, he took down the vial, and carefully unstoppered it. Slowly so as not to spill any, he walked back to the bed, looking down at the shell below him. He leaned down once more to press a kiss to the lips of his once-lover, and carefully poured some of the liquid into the mouth of he-that-was-Arryn. Elrohir massaged the white throat and felt it when he swallowed.
He replaced the stopper, put the vial of poison away, washed his hands in the basin, and was about to leave when he looked back at the body on the bed. He watched as the beautiful green eyes of the one he had loved closed forever. Sighing, he walked back over, and pulled a sheet off another bed, then covered the corpse, pausing only to touch its cheek once more before pulling the sheet over its face.
Elrohir pushed the door open, looking unsurprised at the audience outside. He glanced at his father, noting the tear-tracks on his face. Elrohir opened his mouth as if to speak, but did not, turning instead to head back down the hall to his room.
Elladan found him later in Arryn's chambers, lying on the bed, curled around tightly around a pillow. The twin quietly walked over, and sat on the bed beside him. He was not acknowledged for a long time.
Finally, Elrohir spoke. "I leave on the morrow. I go to hunt all orcs. To revenge both Mother, and now Arryn. Will you accompany me?"
Elladan nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He left the room as silently as he had come, going to speak to his father about provisions. As he left, he heard a soft sob behind him, but did not stop, leaving Elrohir to his memories and his tears.