Chapter 2 - Struggling With Comprehension
Cold. It surrounded him. As he struggled to understand this sensation another hit him hard and fast. Motion. Estel slowly opened his eyes and was met with resistance. The feeling of movement suddenly increased and his whole body felt as if it was thrown up into the air. He yelped out in surprise when he hit the ground again and pulled in a long, shuttering breath. He was soaking wet. He staggered to his hands and knees, still shaking as the freezing water dripped down his clothes. The river had carried him far downstream. It would be a long walk back to Rivendell. He managed to get his breathing under control and rolled onto his back. Staring up at the sky, Estel unwillingly started to remember what had brought him here in the first place. With horrible suddenness, the images hit him hard and fast.
Elrohir with his eyes tightly shut in pain, trying not to scream.
The flaming hot spike being forced against his brother's back again and again.
The twisted faces of the orcs as they laughed.
The sick, meaty crunch of Elrohir's arm snapping covered immediately by his scream of anguish.
Estel shuttering with apprehension as the mutilated orcs held the knife at his brother's throat and an arrow at his own.
But most of all, the one thought that seemed to be burned in his mind as hot and painful as any torture that could be inflicted was the look of fear on his father's face. That terrible knowledge, that as much as it would grieve him to lose his foster son, to lose Elrohir was certain death.
Estel sat up slowly letting the water puddle around him in the grass. He understood. He really did but it wasn't making the feeling of rejection any less painful. He knew that Elladan and Elrohir had been Elrond's sons for nearly 3000 years more than he. He even knew of Elrond's own tragic history and that he had lost his brother to the ravages of time. All this information he knew and understood but none of it mattered to him at all.
When he had made the decision to jump, he had felt good. He stood firm with the knowledge that he was honoring his family. That he was proving to himself that he was worth something and had some strength in him yet. He hadn't been afraid. He had been so sure of himself, sure that he was doing the right thing. Now, sitting here, as the sun set over the trees, completely drenched, he was loosing that faith. Something stirred in him, a deep buried feeling that he had ignored for years now resurfacing.
He was afraid to go home.
*******************************************************
Elladan found Elrohir hunched over in his chair with his back turned from the window. The setting sun draped red blood colored light across his back giving him an eerie wounded look. His head hung down but his twin knew he was awake. He was simply radiating suffering, the kind that would have been impossible to keep up under the surrender of sleep. Elladan paused in the doorway. What was he going to say? He knew he brought no good news and there was nothing he could say that would heal the growing rift between his brother and their father. He could sense that despair in Elrond when he had past him moments ago. Then again he had to try.
"'Roh?"
His brother didn't move. Not a good sign. Elladan knelt beside his chair and lifted up his brother's head. Elrohir met his eyes but his were clouded over with bleak depression. He knew that his twin hadn't found Estel. Knew it, or was beyond caring.
Still it was a look Elladan couldn't bare to see. "Do not give up hope, 'Roh. He's out there somewhere and we're going to-"
"Going to what?" Elladan watched with growing dismay as Elrohir features twisted with anger. "Going to what? Elladan? Find him? Find his body? What good will that do? What difference can anything possibly make now?"
Elladan backed away from his twin, shocked at his fury and feeling his own anger slowly destroy his resolve to be gentle. Trying to reach any tiny part of him that may still be able to be reasonable Elladan rationalized, "The difference would be that we would have Estel back."
"You are really so naive." Elrohir said softly, more to himself than for his brother's ears but he had made no attempt to hide his bitterness. Stung, Elladan stopped holding back and he spoke without thinking.
"And you are acting like you wish he was already dead!"
Elladan cursed himself instantly for this statement. This was the last thing he wanted, to accuse Elrohir of not caring but before he could take it back, his twin leapt to his feet, the despair and fury in him giving him speed. "He IS dead! Father killed him! We're you not there? Do you really not remember what happened only a few hours ago? How can you be that blind?!"
His voice echoed off the walls of his room and reverberated in Elladan's head. Dead. Estel is dead. Panic swam in Elladan at the very thought. Estel dead, it wasn't possible. How could it be possible? He found himself staggering back, away from Elrohir and away from those thoughts. No. No, it's not possible. The sun had set and it brought a wave of darkness with it that swept though the room and straight into Elladan's heart.
"No. Estel is alive." Elladan's eyes shone as fire, as if daring his brother to disagree. His stance was rigid now, froze in place, waiting.
The air seemed to stop circulating as both brothers faced each other, for the first time in ages on opposite sides. The darkness of night filled the room with its quiet melancholy and time hung suspended. Finally Elrohir, his anger having faded, slumped back into his chair.
"I wish that were so." He whispered knowing that his despair was creeping up on him again and letting it come. "Whatever will we do without him?"
Elladan felt the cold wall at his back and realized he was across the room. Elrohir didn't seem to even notice. He was absently shaking his head, physically denying everything his brother had said. "No. No 'Roh, your wrong. He's alive. He's alive and I'm going to find him." With those words, Elladan set off on his quest to find Estel, trusting that he had brought his brother some hope. He shut the door with a thump so that his departure would be clearly noted. He needn't have bothered.
Elrohir was no longer listening.
Cold. It surrounded him. As he struggled to understand this sensation another hit him hard and fast. Motion. Estel slowly opened his eyes and was met with resistance. The feeling of movement suddenly increased and his whole body felt as if it was thrown up into the air. He yelped out in surprise when he hit the ground again and pulled in a long, shuttering breath. He was soaking wet. He staggered to his hands and knees, still shaking as the freezing water dripped down his clothes. The river had carried him far downstream. It would be a long walk back to Rivendell. He managed to get his breathing under control and rolled onto his back. Staring up at the sky, Estel unwillingly started to remember what had brought him here in the first place. With horrible suddenness, the images hit him hard and fast.
Elrohir with his eyes tightly shut in pain, trying not to scream.
The flaming hot spike being forced against his brother's back again and again.
The twisted faces of the orcs as they laughed.
The sick, meaty crunch of Elrohir's arm snapping covered immediately by his scream of anguish.
Estel shuttering with apprehension as the mutilated orcs held the knife at his brother's throat and an arrow at his own.
But most of all, the one thought that seemed to be burned in his mind as hot and painful as any torture that could be inflicted was the look of fear on his father's face. That terrible knowledge, that as much as it would grieve him to lose his foster son, to lose Elrohir was certain death.
Estel sat up slowly letting the water puddle around him in the grass. He understood. He really did but it wasn't making the feeling of rejection any less painful. He knew that Elladan and Elrohir had been Elrond's sons for nearly 3000 years more than he. He even knew of Elrond's own tragic history and that he had lost his brother to the ravages of time. All this information he knew and understood but none of it mattered to him at all.
When he had made the decision to jump, he had felt good. He stood firm with the knowledge that he was honoring his family. That he was proving to himself that he was worth something and had some strength in him yet. He hadn't been afraid. He had been so sure of himself, sure that he was doing the right thing. Now, sitting here, as the sun set over the trees, completely drenched, he was loosing that faith. Something stirred in him, a deep buried feeling that he had ignored for years now resurfacing.
He was afraid to go home.
*******************************************************
Elladan found Elrohir hunched over in his chair with his back turned from the window. The setting sun draped red blood colored light across his back giving him an eerie wounded look. His head hung down but his twin knew he was awake. He was simply radiating suffering, the kind that would have been impossible to keep up under the surrender of sleep. Elladan paused in the doorway. What was he going to say? He knew he brought no good news and there was nothing he could say that would heal the growing rift between his brother and their father. He could sense that despair in Elrond when he had past him moments ago. Then again he had to try.
"'Roh?"
His brother didn't move. Not a good sign. Elladan knelt beside his chair and lifted up his brother's head. Elrohir met his eyes but his were clouded over with bleak depression. He knew that his twin hadn't found Estel. Knew it, or was beyond caring.
Still it was a look Elladan couldn't bare to see. "Do not give up hope, 'Roh. He's out there somewhere and we're going to-"
"Going to what?" Elladan watched with growing dismay as Elrohir features twisted with anger. "Going to what? Elladan? Find him? Find his body? What good will that do? What difference can anything possibly make now?"
Elladan backed away from his twin, shocked at his fury and feeling his own anger slowly destroy his resolve to be gentle. Trying to reach any tiny part of him that may still be able to be reasonable Elladan rationalized, "The difference would be that we would have Estel back."
"You are really so naive." Elrohir said softly, more to himself than for his brother's ears but he had made no attempt to hide his bitterness. Stung, Elladan stopped holding back and he spoke without thinking.
"And you are acting like you wish he was already dead!"
Elladan cursed himself instantly for this statement. This was the last thing he wanted, to accuse Elrohir of not caring but before he could take it back, his twin leapt to his feet, the despair and fury in him giving him speed. "He IS dead! Father killed him! We're you not there? Do you really not remember what happened only a few hours ago? How can you be that blind?!"
His voice echoed off the walls of his room and reverberated in Elladan's head. Dead. Estel is dead. Panic swam in Elladan at the very thought. Estel dead, it wasn't possible. How could it be possible? He found himself staggering back, away from Elrohir and away from those thoughts. No. No, it's not possible. The sun had set and it brought a wave of darkness with it that swept though the room and straight into Elladan's heart.
"No. Estel is alive." Elladan's eyes shone as fire, as if daring his brother to disagree. His stance was rigid now, froze in place, waiting.
The air seemed to stop circulating as both brothers faced each other, for the first time in ages on opposite sides. The darkness of night filled the room with its quiet melancholy and time hung suspended. Finally Elrohir, his anger having faded, slumped back into his chair.
"I wish that were so." He whispered knowing that his despair was creeping up on him again and letting it come. "Whatever will we do without him?"
Elladan felt the cold wall at his back and realized he was across the room. Elrohir didn't seem to even notice. He was absently shaking his head, physically denying everything his brother had said. "No. No 'Roh, your wrong. He's alive. He's alive and I'm going to find him." With those words, Elladan set off on his quest to find Estel, trusting that he had brought his brother some hope. He shut the door with a thump so that his departure would be clearly noted. He needn't have bothered.
Elrohir was no longer listening.