He had come to like the child; even to love him a little. He was settling
in well, and the halls of Imladris were filled with childish laughter and
shouts once again. Many of them coming from his own sons. For his twins
loved Estel in much the way they had loved their tiny sister and all three
enjoyed each other's company.
It was Gilraen he worried most about. By all accounts Arathorn's bride had been a proud and determined young woman. A far cry from the quiet frightened child that had joined their family. For a long time he had been afraid that she would perish from the grief that had overwhelmed her short life. Scared to disagree, scared to speak her existence had gone unnoticed by most of the elves in Imladris. Eventually though the strength of the love she held for her tiny son had enabled her to overcome this.
~*~
"Father," Elladan flung open the door, he had clearly run from the stable block for his cheeks were flushed and he was breathing hard, "We need you now."
Elrond crossed the room hurriedly, placing his hand on his son's arm as they conversed in elvish too rapid for Gilraen to follow. Presently he gave his son's arm a last squeeze and disappeared in the direction of the infirmary.
"El'dan!" Estel shouted, slipping off the bench and running as hard as he could to try and reach his brother before he turned away.
"Estel," Elladan tried hard to smile, "I cannot play yet."
"Cuddle?" Estel looked up hopefully reaching out to be picked up.
"No Estel not now," Elladan shook his head, "Maybe later."
Estel showed his displeasure with this idea by flinging his arms around Elladan's boots and holding him tight. Elladan's expression was quickly turning into irritation so Gilraen gathered her son into her own arms. Estel protested noisily however Elladan took no notice, simply turning his back and striding back down the dark corridor.
"El'dan angry?" Estel queried looking up tearfully at his mother.
Gilraen shook her head, struggling to control her own feelings as she spoke.
"No my little Estel, he is just busy." Gilraen rocked Estel closer to her body. Luckily he was too young to have noticed the sticky dark stains on Elladan's clothing or the bloody finger marks he had left on the door handle.
~*~
Elrond and the other healers worked steadily through the small group of injured riders. They had come across a group of orc that they had been ill equipped and undermanned to tackle. Not one of them had escaped without injury, several of them with severe wounds. Thankfully, Elrond thought, his own sons were not among these. Looking up from where he was bent over a dark-haired who was struggling to breathe, he watched his sons.
Elladan was sitting on one of the high infirmary beds, dangling his legs over the edge. He had stripped off his blood stained undershirt now and his wounds had been washed and dressed. Bandages were wrapped around his left shoulder and the side of his chest where the edge of his armour had been thrust into his flesh. Elrond shuddered slightly; he would never get used to treating his sons.
Concerned, Elrond noticed Elrohir was sitting with his head in his hands. As he watched Elladan walked over rather stiffly, sitting down beside him. Elrohir immediately turned to face away from his brother, wincing as he strained his injured leg. Elrond grimaced. So, he was not the only one who thought that Elladan had made a rash decision. What could his son have been thinking in leading seven elves against such a horde?
The doors opened with a bang and Glorfindel strode in. He was dressed for battle and his hand was already clenched around the hilt of his sword. The blue eyes travelled the room, taking in the devastation before him. Elladan pulled on a clean undershirt and stood up. Glorfindel regarded him rather coldly, his eyes having lingered on the dark-haired elf that was now coughing up blood.
"Can you ride?" Glorfindel demanded, eyeing Elladan dubiously.
"Yes," Elladan dressed quickly, hoping that his assertion would hold out.
"We leave immediately," Glorfindel said shortly, hurrying to the horses. Elrond watched his eldest as he laced up his boots, pulling the binding tight, and racing to catch up. Glorfindel was leading some fifty elves against the orcs, and wished to have a guide. Elrond wished that it had been someone else's son who had volunteered for the task.
~*~
Gilraen and Estel had been long asleep by the time that Elrond returned to his quarters. His head was throbbing and he had only now noticed how dirty his tunic had become. He changed, grateful of the bowls of hot water that someone had put ready, before proceeding to the sitting room where dinner was waiting.
Elrohir, sitting in the shadows away from the fire, looked up expectantly as he came in. Elrond sadly shook his head. The dark head looked down again.
"Here," Elrond filled a goblet with wine and placed it next to his son. Elrohir did not respond. Taking a goblet for himself Elrond sat down, starring at the glowing silhouettes of logs against the flames, and waited.
"There were so many," Elrohir said eventually in a choked voice, "Hundreds."
Elrond went to sit by his son, placing a comforting arm around his shoulders.
"He decided to attack," Elrohir spat out the he with anger, "And then more came. I think they were hidden at first."
"And you retreated?" Elrond tried to think of a comment that would avoid taking sides with either son.
"No," Elrohir pulled a face with every 'he'; "He would not. He insisted we could still fight. And when he finally decided that it would not be below his pumped up ego to admit defeat we were surrounded."
"Elrohir," Elrond said gently. It indeed sounded as if Elladan had made grave errors of judgement, but he did not like to see his sons fighting.
"It is his fault," Elrohir kicked out angrily, "He is responsible for every injury. Every death."
As he spoke Elrohir's voice cracked slightly. Elrond wrapped his arms around his son, cradling him as if he were a child again.
~*~
Two days passed without news of the riders. Elrohir was slowly recovering to his normal self, spending much of his time with a delighted Estel. The only hint Gilraen had been given of what had happened had been a bitter snarl of "I do not know. Killing another friend probably!" in response to her son's question of Elladan's whereabouts. The look that Elrond had given Elrohir after this comment had deterred everyone from further discussing the matter.
On the third morning Gilraen had just dressed her small son and taken him out to the balcony for a game before breakfast when he broke away and charged at a figure.
"Glorfy!" Estel yelled attaching himself to the blond elf. Gilraen hurried after him flushed with embarrassment. Glorfindel and Elrond had been deep in discussion, looking out over the valley. They obviously did not need the interruption of a small over-spirited child.
"Good morning Lady Gilraen," Glorfindel smiled as he lifted the boy into a hug and accepted a rather slobbery kiss. Gilraen relaxed. Either Glorfindel was fond of the company of small children or he was unnaturally good at hiding his feelings.
"Good morning," Gilraen smiled as her son tickled the older elf's nose with an end of a long blond braid, "I am sorry we disturbed you."
"Oh not at all," Glorfindel lied rather obviously. His clothes were soiled with blood and grime and he had been speaking in a low urgent voice.
"And how is Estel this morning?" Elrond ruffled the soft hair, which was now beginning to grow into dark curls.
"I was just taking him for a walk before breakfast," Gilraen said rather breathlessly, "He has so much energy."
Elrond nodded in agreement. Estel was thriving in Imladris, and he could well see that some form of activity would be required to curb his high spirits before he would be able to sit down quietly to breakfast.
"Come along Estel," Gilraen held out a hand to her son who was swinging with a gleeful smile from Glorfindel's hands. Estel pouted and kept hold of one large finger.
"Please Estel," Gilraen asked again. She did not want her son to make a scene or worse yet throw a tantrum in front of these mighty elf lords. Estel hid behind Glorfindel's cloak, peeking out mischievously at his mother. Gilraen paused, Elrond and Glorfindel were clearly eager to resume their conversation, but she did not think that trying to bodily remove Estel from Glorfindel would go smoothly.
"Estel, did you not hear what your mother said?" Elrond asked with a hint of impatience. The matters they were discussing were urgent and it was imperative that he should learn the facts as soon as possible.
Estel observed the adults with large eyes. He badly wanted to stay with Glorfindel and Elrond.
"Want to hug Glorfy," Estel wrapped himself firmly around Glorfindel. In his short experience parents almost always let you play longer if you hugged somebody. Glorfindel crouched down with a smile. He had not spent time with anyone this small for two thousand years and curiously enough he had missed it.
"Estel," Glorfindel untangled himself from small boy, "I know someone who needs a hug much more than I do."
Estel looked up hopefully.
"Elrond?"
"No," Glorfindel steered Estel in the right direction, "I think Elladan needs a big hug very much."
Estel looked at the corridor to Elladan's room and back to the two elves. Finally he put his thumb in his mouth and toddled off towards the large oak door. Gilraen followed at some distance, opened the door and waited for him in the sitting room. Outside she could hear the low and urgent voices resume.
~*~
Estel pushed open the door a crack and slipped into the room, grabbing at the rumpled covers in an attempt to clamber onto the bed.
"What?" Elladan demanded nastily, his voice muffled from his face being buried in the pillows.
"El'dan," Estel asked plaintively, making another attempt at getting onto the bed.
"Go away Estel!"
"No," with a huge effort Estel managed to pull himself onto the mattress, "Big hug."
"Go away!" Elladan repeated more loudly and angrily, pulling the blankets over his head. Estel crawled over the lumpy bedclothes until he was sitting on the pillow.
"El'dan?" Estel wriggled his small toes in impatience. On receiving no reply he stuck his head under the blankets.
"Go away!" Elladan ripped back the covers and dumped the child on the floor with a bump, "Go and pester Elrohir, he should be delighted that I haven't murdered you! Go on! Shoo!"
Estel regarded his brother with an uncomprehending look. Elladan lay back on the bed, turning away from the child and closing his eyes tightly. Estel tiptoed around to the other side and scrambled up until he was sitting opposite Elladan's face.
"Why are crying?" Estel reached out and gently stroked a white cheek. For Elladan's eyes were red and somewhat puffy.
Elladan's eyes shot back open.
"I am not crying," he shouted into the little face, "I am angry because little nuisances will not leave me alone!"
There was a pause as Estel backed away and his face crinkled into tears. Then loud frightened cries filled the halls of Imladris.
~*~
Gilraen rushed into the room, for the moment too concerned about her son to worry about the social conventions regarding barging into the bedroom of one of the sons of Elrond. She gathered her son into her arms, stroking the little body that clung to her. Her normally pale cheeks were flushed with anger and the steely eyes were glinting.
"How dare you," she screamed at Elladan clipping him around the ear, "How dare you?"
Elladan clutched his ear, speechless in surprise. Never in all his long life had he been hit by a woman, and certainly not round the ear like a naughty mortal child.
"You may stomp and sulk all you like, this being the House of Elrond and you being his brat of a son." Gilraen drew herself to her full height putting her arms protectively around her baby, "But this is my son and you will never speak to him like that again!"
Gilraen stalked out, looking every bit of the Queen of the Dunedain. Elrond and Glorfindel, who had come running when they heard the shouting, paused as she swept along the corridor.
"Lady Gilraen," Elrond laid a hand on her arm. Gilraen did not halt, making her way swiftly back to the safety of her room. Elrond scowled, clearly choosing between the desires to comfort Gilraen on one hand and talk to Elladan on the other.
"Give her time Elrond," Glorfindel advised listening to the helpless sobs that drifted through the newly closed door. Elrond looked venomously through the doorway to his eldest son's room.
"Then I think I need to discuss certain matters with Elladan."
Glorfindel decided that it might be a good time to get changed and made a hasty exit from the family quarters.
~*~
It was raining by now. Elladan sat in the hollow of an old oak tree, hugging his knees. Raindrops soaking through his clothes and sliding down his face, mingling with his tears. Taking a shuddering breath he tried to control himself. He shouldn't even be crying.
The death had not been his fault. Glorfindel had assured him that, agreeing that trying to make their way through the narrow gorge without drawing more of the orc that ambushed the pass away to the site of the main battle would have been suicide. All the same the fallen elf had been a close friend of Elrohir's and hence himself. Elrohir had not looked at him as they had tried in vain to heal him, only a glance comparing his light wounds with the deep gashes and tears on many of the other elves. And when he had returned for the second time and tried to face his twin the only response he had gained was a blank "Oh, you're still alive".
His father's few but pointed comments that morning had been even more hurtful. It made no difference that he had not meant to frighten the child or offend its mother. He was in no doubt that if such an incident was repeated then his position in the family quarters would come into question. Much to Elrohir's joy probably.
"Elladan?"
Elladan shrunk back into the tree trunk, hoping that in the dark whoever it was would pass him by.
They did not. Glorfindel had long known of Elladan's childhood hideout and had guessed that he would be there. He stood next to him in the little hollow, placing a hand on his shoulder. Elladan shook the arm away angrily, moving as far across as he could.
Glorfindel sighed. Elladan had been like this since he was a tiny child. Stubborn and angry when upset, hiding his true feelings from everyone. It had not been until an archery lesson two months after rescuing his mother that Glorfindel had seen the hot tears he could hold in no longer snaking down his cheeks.
"Come here child," Glorfindel sat down on the damp grass, wrapping an arm around Elladan's shaking shoulders. Elladan had come of age hundreds of years ago, but somehow Glorfindel could never really think of him as anyone but the mischievous elfling in a grubby tunic.
Elladan submitted to the hug, leaning his head against Glorfindel's shoulder.
"Elrohir cannot look at me."
"Elrohir is hurting," Glorfindel wondered how best to explain it, "Sometimes it is easier to hurt another than face the pain yourself."
"He would rather that I had fallen." Elladan's voice was so full of pain that Glorfindel looked at him anxiously.
"No," Glorfindel hugged Elladan closer to him; "He loves you more than his own life, Elladan. He will forgive you."
Elladan gulped back some sobs.
"I should not have spoken to Estel as I did," the grey eyes looked down in shame, "For that they will not forgive me."
"No you should have not," Glorfindel wriggled as the dampness from the ground soaked through his tunic and leggings, "You must control your temper."
Elladan flushed. If he had been told this once he had been told this a thousand times.
"However they will forgive you in time, they all will."
Elladan shook his head biting back tears.
"Ada will not. You did not hear him Glorfindel."
"Oh Elladan," Glorfindel pulled back the wet hair to look into Elladan's face. He did not mention that half of Imladris had heard the comments, "You do not think for a moment that your father does not love you."
"No," Elladan faltered, "But so much that I do causes him displeasure."
"And he loves you in spite of that," Glorfindel smiled at some memories, "As do I. Did I not forgive you for spilling the wine, or for jumping off the top balcony."
"Well yes," Elladan conceded, "But. . ."
"He will never stop loving you. No matter what you do."
"But he said," Elladan paused frowning. He did not really wish to repeat what his father had said.
"Elladan your father has a temper, where did you think you had got yours from?"
Elladan shrugged, smiling weakly. Glorfindel got up and pulled Elladan to his feet.
"They will forgive you Elladan. You are a family now."
It was Gilraen he worried most about. By all accounts Arathorn's bride had been a proud and determined young woman. A far cry from the quiet frightened child that had joined their family. For a long time he had been afraid that she would perish from the grief that had overwhelmed her short life. Scared to disagree, scared to speak her existence had gone unnoticed by most of the elves in Imladris. Eventually though the strength of the love she held for her tiny son had enabled her to overcome this.
~*~
"Father," Elladan flung open the door, he had clearly run from the stable block for his cheeks were flushed and he was breathing hard, "We need you now."
Elrond crossed the room hurriedly, placing his hand on his son's arm as they conversed in elvish too rapid for Gilraen to follow. Presently he gave his son's arm a last squeeze and disappeared in the direction of the infirmary.
"El'dan!" Estel shouted, slipping off the bench and running as hard as he could to try and reach his brother before he turned away.
"Estel," Elladan tried hard to smile, "I cannot play yet."
"Cuddle?" Estel looked up hopefully reaching out to be picked up.
"No Estel not now," Elladan shook his head, "Maybe later."
Estel showed his displeasure with this idea by flinging his arms around Elladan's boots and holding him tight. Elladan's expression was quickly turning into irritation so Gilraen gathered her son into her own arms. Estel protested noisily however Elladan took no notice, simply turning his back and striding back down the dark corridor.
"El'dan angry?" Estel queried looking up tearfully at his mother.
Gilraen shook her head, struggling to control her own feelings as she spoke.
"No my little Estel, he is just busy." Gilraen rocked Estel closer to her body. Luckily he was too young to have noticed the sticky dark stains on Elladan's clothing or the bloody finger marks he had left on the door handle.
~*~
Elrond and the other healers worked steadily through the small group of injured riders. They had come across a group of orc that they had been ill equipped and undermanned to tackle. Not one of them had escaped without injury, several of them with severe wounds. Thankfully, Elrond thought, his own sons were not among these. Looking up from where he was bent over a dark-haired who was struggling to breathe, he watched his sons.
Elladan was sitting on one of the high infirmary beds, dangling his legs over the edge. He had stripped off his blood stained undershirt now and his wounds had been washed and dressed. Bandages were wrapped around his left shoulder and the side of his chest where the edge of his armour had been thrust into his flesh. Elrond shuddered slightly; he would never get used to treating his sons.
Concerned, Elrond noticed Elrohir was sitting with his head in his hands. As he watched Elladan walked over rather stiffly, sitting down beside him. Elrohir immediately turned to face away from his brother, wincing as he strained his injured leg. Elrond grimaced. So, he was not the only one who thought that Elladan had made a rash decision. What could his son have been thinking in leading seven elves against such a horde?
The doors opened with a bang and Glorfindel strode in. He was dressed for battle and his hand was already clenched around the hilt of his sword. The blue eyes travelled the room, taking in the devastation before him. Elladan pulled on a clean undershirt and stood up. Glorfindel regarded him rather coldly, his eyes having lingered on the dark-haired elf that was now coughing up blood.
"Can you ride?" Glorfindel demanded, eyeing Elladan dubiously.
"Yes," Elladan dressed quickly, hoping that his assertion would hold out.
"We leave immediately," Glorfindel said shortly, hurrying to the horses. Elrond watched his eldest as he laced up his boots, pulling the binding tight, and racing to catch up. Glorfindel was leading some fifty elves against the orcs, and wished to have a guide. Elrond wished that it had been someone else's son who had volunteered for the task.
~*~
Gilraen and Estel had been long asleep by the time that Elrond returned to his quarters. His head was throbbing and he had only now noticed how dirty his tunic had become. He changed, grateful of the bowls of hot water that someone had put ready, before proceeding to the sitting room where dinner was waiting.
Elrohir, sitting in the shadows away from the fire, looked up expectantly as he came in. Elrond sadly shook his head. The dark head looked down again.
"Here," Elrond filled a goblet with wine and placed it next to his son. Elrohir did not respond. Taking a goblet for himself Elrond sat down, starring at the glowing silhouettes of logs against the flames, and waited.
"There were so many," Elrohir said eventually in a choked voice, "Hundreds."
Elrond went to sit by his son, placing a comforting arm around his shoulders.
"He decided to attack," Elrohir spat out the he with anger, "And then more came. I think they were hidden at first."
"And you retreated?" Elrond tried to think of a comment that would avoid taking sides with either son.
"No," Elrohir pulled a face with every 'he'; "He would not. He insisted we could still fight. And when he finally decided that it would not be below his pumped up ego to admit defeat we were surrounded."
"Elrohir," Elrond said gently. It indeed sounded as if Elladan had made grave errors of judgement, but he did not like to see his sons fighting.
"It is his fault," Elrohir kicked out angrily, "He is responsible for every injury. Every death."
As he spoke Elrohir's voice cracked slightly. Elrond wrapped his arms around his son, cradling him as if he were a child again.
~*~
Two days passed without news of the riders. Elrohir was slowly recovering to his normal self, spending much of his time with a delighted Estel. The only hint Gilraen had been given of what had happened had been a bitter snarl of "I do not know. Killing another friend probably!" in response to her son's question of Elladan's whereabouts. The look that Elrond had given Elrohir after this comment had deterred everyone from further discussing the matter.
On the third morning Gilraen had just dressed her small son and taken him out to the balcony for a game before breakfast when he broke away and charged at a figure.
"Glorfy!" Estel yelled attaching himself to the blond elf. Gilraen hurried after him flushed with embarrassment. Glorfindel and Elrond had been deep in discussion, looking out over the valley. They obviously did not need the interruption of a small over-spirited child.
"Good morning Lady Gilraen," Glorfindel smiled as he lifted the boy into a hug and accepted a rather slobbery kiss. Gilraen relaxed. Either Glorfindel was fond of the company of small children or he was unnaturally good at hiding his feelings.
"Good morning," Gilraen smiled as her son tickled the older elf's nose with an end of a long blond braid, "I am sorry we disturbed you."
"Oh not at all," Glorfindel lied rather obviously. His clothes were soiled with blood and grime and he had been speaking in a low urgent voice.
"And how is Estel this morning?" Elrond ruffled the soft hair, which was now beginning to grow into dark curls.
"I was just taking him for a walk before breakfast," Gilraen said rather breathlessly, "He has so much energy."
Elrond nodded in agreement. Estel was thriving in Imladris, and he could well see that some form of activity would be required to curb his high spirits before he would be able to sit down quietly to breakfast.
"Come along Estel," Gilraen held out a hand to her son who was swinging with a gleeful smile from Glorfindel's hands. Estel pouted and kept hold of one large finger.
"Please Estel," Gilraen asked again. She did not want her son to make a scene or worse yet throw a tantrum in front of these mighty elf lords. Estel hid behind Glorfindel's cloak, peeking out mischievously at his mother. Gilraen paused, Elrond and Glorfindel were clearly eager to resume their conversation, but she did not think that trying to bodily remove Estel from Glorfindel would go smoothly.
"Estel, did you not hear what your mother said?" Elrond asked with a hint of impatience. The matters they were discussing were urgent and it was imperative that he should learn the facts as soon as possible.
Estel observed the adults with large eyes. He badly wanted to stay with Glorfindel and Elrond.
"Want to hug Glorfy," Estel wrapped himself firmly around Glorfindel. In his short experience parents almost always let you play longer if you hugged somebody. Glorfindel crouched down with a smile. He had not spent time with anyone this small for two thousand years and curiously enough he had missed it.
"Estel," Glorfindel untangled himself from small boy, "I know someone who needs a hug much more than I do."
Estel looked up hopefully.
"Elrond?"
"No," Glorfindel steered Estel in the right direction, "I think Elladan needs a big hug very much."
Estel looked at the corridor to Elladan's room and back to the two elves. Finally he put his thumb in his mouth and toddled off towards the large oak door. Gilraen followed at some distance, opened the door and waited for him in the sitting room. Outside she could hear the low and urgent voices resume.
~*~
Estel pushed open the door a crack and slipped into the room, grabbing at the rumpled covers in an attempt to clamber onto the bed.
"What?" Elladan demanded nastily, his voice muffled from his face being buried in the pillows.
"El'dan," Estel asked plaintively, making another attempt at getting onto the bed.
"Go away Estel!"
"No," with a huge effort Estel managed to pull himself onto the mattress, "Big hug."
"Go away!" Elladan repeated more loudly and angrily, pulling the blankets over his head. Estel crawled over the lumpy bedclothes until he was sitting on the pillow.
"El'dan?" Estel wriggled his small toes in impatience. On receiving no reply he stuck his head under the blankets.
"Go away!" Elladan ripped back the covers and dumped the child on the floor with a bump, "Go and pester Elrohir, he should be delighted that I haven't murdered you! Go on! Shoo!"
Estel regarded his brother with an uncomprehending look. Elladan lay back on the bed, turning away from the child and closing his eyes tightly. Estel tiptoed around to the other side and scrambled up until he was sitting opposite Elladan's face.
"Why are crying?" Estel reached out and gently stroked a white cheek. For Elladan's eyes were red and somewhat puffy.
Elladan's eyes shot back open.
"I am not crying," he shouted into the little face, "I am angry because little nuisances will not leave me alone!"
There was a pause as Estel backed away and his face crinkled into tears. Then loud frightened cries filled the halls of Imladris.
~*~
Gilraen rushed into the room, for the moment too concerned about her son to worry about the social conventions regarding barging into the bedroom of one of the sons of Elrond. She gathered her son into her arms, stroking the little body that clung to her. Her normally pale cheeks were flushed with anger and the steely eyes were glinting.
"How dare you," she screamed at Elladan clipping him around the ear, "How dare you?"
Elladan clutched his ear, speechless in surprise. Never in all his long life had he been hit by a woman, and certainly not round the ear like a naughty mortal child.
"You may stomp and sulk all you like, this being the House of Elrond and you being his brat of a son." Gilraen drew herself to her full height putting her arms protectively around her baby, "But this is my son and you will never speak to him like that again!"
Gilraen stalked out, looking every bit of the Queen of the Dunedain. Elrond and Glorfindel, who had come running when they heard the shouting, paused as she swept along the corridor.
"Lady Gilraen," Elrond laid a hand on her arm. Gilraen did not halt, making her way swiftly back to the safety of her room. Elrond scowled, clearly choosing between the desires to comfort Gilraen on one hand and talk to Elladan on the other.
"Give her time Elrond," Glorfindel advised listening to the helpless sobs that drifted through the newly closed door. Elrond looked venomously through the doorway to his eldest son's room.
"Then I think I need to discuss certain matters with Elladan."
Glorfindel decided that it might be a good time to get changed and made a hasty exit from the family quarters.
~*~
It was raining by now. Elladan sat in the hollow of an old oak tree, hugging his knees. Raindrops soaking through his clothes and sliding down his face, mingling with his tears. Taking a shuddering breath he tried to control himself. He shouldn't even be crying.
The death had not been his fault. Glorfindel had assured him that, agreeing that trying to make their way through the narrow gorge without drawing more of the orc that ambushed the pass away to the site of the main battle would have been suicide. All the same the fallen elf had been a close friend of Elrohir's and hence himself. Elrohir had not looked at him as they had tried in vain to heal him, only a glance comparing his light wounds with the deep gashes and tears on many of the other elves. And when he had returned for the second time and tried to face his twin the only response he had gained was a blank "Oh, you're still alive".
His father's few but pointed comments that morning had been even more hurtful. It made no difference that he had not meant to frighten the child or offend its mother. He was in no doubt that if such an incident was repeated then his position in the family quarters would come into question. Much to Elrohir's joy probably.
"Elladan?"
Elladan shrunk back into the tree trunk, hoping that in the dark whoever it was would pass him by.
They did not. Glorfindel had long known of Elladan's childhood hideout and had guessed that he would be there. He stood next to him in the little hollow, placing a hand on his shoulder. Elladan shook the arm away angrily, moving as far across as he could.
Glorfindel sighed. Elladan had been like this since he was a tiny child. Stubborn and angry when upset, hiding his true feelings from everyone. It had not been until an archery lesson two months after rescuing his mother that Glorfindel had seen the hot tears he could hold in no longer snaking down his cheeks.
"Come here child," Glorfindel sat down on the damp grass, wrapping an arm around Elladan's shaking shoulders. Elladan had come of age hundreds of years ago, but somehow Glorfindel could never really think of him as anyone but the mischievous elfling in a grubby tunic.
Elladan submitted to the hug, leaning his head against Glorfindel's shoulder.
"Elrohir cannot look at me."
"Elrohir is hurting," Glorfindel wondered how best to explain it, "Sometimes it is easier to hurt another than face the pain yourself."
"He would rather that I had fallen." Elladan's voice was so full of pain that Glorfindel looked at him anxiously.
"No," Glorfindel hugged Elladan closer to him; "He loves you more than his own life, Elladan. He will forgive you."
Elladan gulped back some sobs.
"I should not have spoken to Estel as I did," the grey eyes looked down in shame, "For that they will not forgive me."
"No you should have not," Glorfindel wriggled as the dampness from the ground soaked through his tunic and leggings, "You must control your temper."
Elladan flushed. If he had been told this once he had been told this a thousand times.
"However they will forgive you in time, they all will."
Elladan shook his head biting back tears.
"Ada will not. You did not hear him Glorfindel."
"Oh Elladan," Glorfindel pulled back the wet hair to look into Elladan's face. He did not mention that half of Imladris had heard the comments, "You do not think for a moment that your father does not love you."
"No," Elladan faltered, "But so much that I do causes him displeasure."
"And he loves you in spite of that," Glorfindel smiled at some memories, "As do I. Did I not forgive you for spilling the wine, or for jumping off the top balcony."
"Well yes," Elladan conceded, "But. . ."
"He will never stop loving you. No matter what you do."
"But he said," Elladan paused frowning. He did not really wish to repeat what his father had said.
"Elladan your father has a temper, where did you think you had got yours from?"
Elladan shrugged, smiling weakly. Glorfindel got up and pulled Elladan to his feet.
"They will forgive you Elladan. You are a family now."