The air was chill, even though Rivendell had not seen so warm a summer
month in centuries. At least, this was how it felt to Elladan. A light
breeze drifted in through the open window; the delicate gust that carried
the perfume of woodland flowers fell upon the Elf's face, doing little to
cool the marked rise in his current temperature.
For days this had continued, it made no difference to the fact he had received the utmost care from his father to nurse him back to health, his condition was static and as Lord Elrond had feared, was beginning to deteriorate.
Heavy, obstructed breathing could be heard from the chambers; waves of intensifying tightness descended upon the lungs of the younger Elf. A sudden wheeze began a tremor of racking coughs that shook the weakened body, already powerless from seven long, previous days of intense personal suffering.
No matter what precaution was taken, which herbs were burned or particular ritual preformed, the heart of Elladan was weakening and would continue to do so. The most terrifying trait of this illness was the sudden pain, causing the patient to moan or scream often without prior warning.
Exclamations of pain were nothing to the constant agony Elladan fought from encasing his soul. Wisps of breath that managed to pass his lips were ragged, half- fetched from burning lungs. It seemed an immense effort to the seemingly young Elf to do so but Elladan found the strength to force open his eyelids.
The dim evening light that met the delicate orbs burned and stung with renewed passion. The gentle flickering of newly lit candles seemed intensified against the fever stricken haze that constituted Elladens sight.
Long shadows lay around the room; caused by the dying sun sinking behind burnt clouds speckled with coloured hues of pink and dark shades of crimson. These dark lengths imposed a sudden coldness upon Elladan who shivered deeply, causing yet another mad coughing fit.
As the deep splutters subsided, Elladan found his vision almost clearer. He could discern shapes with greater ease and the mild light emitted from each candle no longer burned or stung.
Encouraged by this sudden improvement; Elladan was determined to take a more of vertical position. Pushing himself upwards, Elladan managed to raise himself onto trembling elbows. The strain however, proved too much for his weak and tired body and as a result; slipped back own onto the mattress on which he lay. Cursing the feeble attempt under his breath, Elladan tried once again. Success greeted his perseverance as he steadied himself once again on shaking limbs.
A white-hot pain was beginning to spread up Elladan's arms and into his shoulders; searing waves caused his eyes to water and sting once more. Giving into what seemed to be the inevitable; the quivering limbs finally released their load and brought the patient back down into a sedentary position.
Much discussion had taken place concerning the nature of such a mystery illness. But to Elrond, his son's aliment seemed less of an enigma. Night after night had passed as Elrond paced by the foot of his son's bed; hoping against hope that he was not correct in his diagnosis.
This fear however, was simply waiting to manifest itself into a reality. The only question was of time; how long did Elladan have before the madness took him. Although it was difficult to separate father and son when either Elladan or Elrohir were so ill; the Lord of Imladris was to be found in his study; neither eating nor sleeping, simply pouring over texts of ancient lore and healers worth.
Leaning back from the large oak desk, Elrond rubbed his eyes wearily and sighed yet again. With each day that passed, he knew that Elladan's condition was manifesting itself into something Elrond could not wield control over. It was late, the darkening sky brought a cool breeze; gently wafting through the room, bringing with it the delicate scent of primrose and autumn honeysuckle. Raising his hands to his face, Elrond rubbed his tired eyes with the balls of his fingers, unable to fully release his angst.
Reaching across the desk, Elrond pushed aside an accumulation of parchment and pulled a large rounded stone bowl towards him. The water contained within was cold now; the results of 14 hours study. Opening a small ornately carved wooden box that lay among the mass of books, Elrond laid two athelas leaves. The scent that rose immediately from the bowl; a strong combination of mint and wild grasses, did little to rouse his muted senses.
Elrond's mind had wondered, staring into the empty space before him; casually turning the carved wooden object over and over in his grip. He sighed deeply yet again, his eyes down cast towards the box, mindlessly tracing the intricate pattern of leaves and vines carved into the treated wood. Elrond's concentration was so ingrained on the tiny wooden object; he did not hear his visitor enter.
"You will rot your mind if you do not sleep" the voice was deep; searching tones seemed to penetrate Elrond's subconscious.
Elrond's gaze did not move, it stayed rooted to the object in hands; it was almost as if he could not put it down. His head was swimming with thought, unable to release that single contemplation that focused his worry. Elrond exhaled deeply again before speaking, placing the box gently upon the desk.
"If I wanted your opinion on my health Haldir; I would have asked you for it" the voice was weary, taxed by many hours of care giving and worry.
The Warden did not move, his watchful gaze still locked upon Elrond who seemed to visibly wilt under the strain. Another deep sigh unfocused Elrond's gaze, it flickered up towards Haldir; his eyes taking the look of concern that danced upon the March Wardens face.
"I am sorry Haldir" Elrond sighed, shaking his head wearily "this incident has challenged me in ways I never contemplated."
Elrond rubbed his face absently, rotating and shrugging his shoulders; the strain of seven days clearly evident in the still powerful muscles. Morning was threatening to break through the darkened cloud; gently piercing shades of a warm orange hue cracked the black sky above. A losing battle it would indeed be.
Elrohir stood before his brother's bed; the same worried expression still creased his young features. It had been days since Elladan had spoken and even longer since he had laughed. The deficiency of this simple act caused Elrohir unmentionable grief; never before had he seen his twin in such an unstable condition as Elves rarely if ever became unwell. And it seemed that after the 2000 years Elladan had graced the earth; illness had finally caught him in a deathly grip.
Sighing resolutely Elrohir fell into the chair facing the large wooden bed; his gaze never leaving the unconscious figure laying stock-still covered by thin blankets of lambs wool.
"Oh Brother" Elrohir sighed, a single tear slipping down his smooth face as he watched the ragged, shuddering breaths that caused Elladan's chest to rise and fall erratically.
Minutes passed as hours and days were more of an eternity as the healthy twin sat in despair, praying to the Valar that his brother would soon be returned to health and not taken from them. Elorir's thoughts were concentrated on his brother before the sound of a door opening shattered his reverie and brought him back to reality.
The figure of their father emerged through the door, a gentle swish of robes and click of a door closing caused Elrohir to turn; leaning over the arm of the hefty chair. Elrond smiled as he met his son's gaze, even though it was well hidden; he knew all so well that Elrohir had shed many tears that night.
"I thought I would find you here" Elrond smiled as he laid a hand onto Elorir's' shoulder, the warmth doing little to ease the tension in his son's stiff muscles. Elrohir simply smiled, he had energy to do little else.
"Have you been here all night?" Elrond already knew the answer before he had even asked.
"Not all night" Elrohir started, the purple shadows painted under his eyes told a different tale "I awoke before sunrise, I dreamt.." Elrohir faulted, it was if he did not want to continue "I dreamt Elladan was.was" his voice became weak and trailed off.
"Was dying" Elrond finished, fixing his son with a tender gaze. Elrohir simply nodded, he could feel fresh tears welling behind his eyes. He closed them, a shuddering sigh leaving his lungs.
Elrond felt a sudden pang of sympathy towards his son, having had his own twin brother die in his arms; he was all too aware of the pain and suffering Elrohir must be experiencing. It was one thing to have familiarity with death but to have one half of your soul die was an entirely different matter. He knelt at his son's side, steadying himself on the arm of the chair.
"It is understandable that you feel sadness over Elladan's condition" Elrond laid his had upon Elrohir other shoulder so father was facing son "But you must stay strong, for your brothers sake".
Elrohir lifted his head and stared deeply into his father's eyes, an all- encompassing warmth seemed to fill him but it did little to quell the grief he felt for Elladan. Elrond could see fear, cold, encasing panic dancing through his son's glassy eyed expression.
The battle against tears Elrohir had fought came to an end; his head bent again as a strangled cry of frustration escaped his lungs and his pent-up aggression manifested itself into loud racking sobs.
Elrond pulled his son strongly into his arms, allowing himself to find comfort in Elrohir arms. Seven days of grief, frustration and annoyance forced its way into Elrond sub-conscious. A single tear rolling down his cheek as he pulled Elrohir closer, gentle mumblings of reassurance escaped his lips that Elrond didn't believe himself. Not anymore.
A/N - Well, there it is. Tell me what you think Ladies and Gents.
For days this had continued, it made no difference to the fact he had received the utmost care from his father to nurse him back to health, his condition was static and as Lord Elrond had feared, was beginning to deteriorate.
Heavy, obstructed breathing could be heard from the chambers; waves of intensifying tightness descended upon the lungs of the younger Elf. A sudden wheeze began a tremor of racking coughs that shook the weakened body, already powerless from seven long, previous days of intense personal suffering.
No matter what precaution was taken, which herbs were burned or particular ritual preformed, the heart of Elladan was weakening and would continue to do so. The most terrifying trait of this illness was the sudden pain, causing the patient to moan or scream often without prior warning.
Exclamations of pain were nothing to the constant agony Elladan fought from encasing his soul. Wisps of breath that managed to pass his lips were ragged, half- fetched from burning lungs. It seemed an immense effort to the seemingly young Elf to do so but Elladan found the strength to force open his eyelids.
The dim evening light that met the delicate orbs burned and stung with renewed passion. The gentle flickering of newly lit candles seemed intensified against the fever stricken haze that constituted Elladens sight.
Long shadows lay around the room; caused by the dying sun sinking behind burnt clouds speckled with coloured hues of pink and dark shades of crimson. These dark lengths imposed a sudden coldness upon Elladan who shivered deeply, causing yet another mad coughing fit.
As the deep splutters subsided, Elladan found his vision almost clearer. He could discern shapes with greater ease and the mild light emitted from each candle no longer burned or stung.
Encouraged by this sudden improvement; Elladan was determined to take a more of vertical position. Pushing himself upwards, Elladan managed to raise himself onto trembling elbows. The strain however, proved too much for his weak and tired body and as a result; slipped back own onto the mattress on which he lay. Cursing the feeble attempt under his breath, Elladan tried once again. Success greeted his perseverance as he steadied himself once again on shaking limbs.
A white-hot pain was beginning to spread up Elladan's arms and into his shoulders; searing waves caused his eyes to water and sting once more. Giving into what seemed to be the inevitable; the quivering limbs finally released their load and brought the patient back down into a sedentary position.
Much discussion had taken place concerning the nature of such a mystery illness. But to Elrond, his son's aliment seemed less of an enigma. Night after night had passed as Elrond paced by the foot of his son's bed; hoping against hope that he was not correct in his diagnosis.
This fear however, was simply waiting to manifest itself into a reality. The only question was of time; how long did Elladan have before the madness took him. Although it was difficult to separate father and son when either Elladan or Elrohir were so ill; the Lord of Imladris was to be found in his study; neither eating nor sleeping, simply pouring over texts of ancient lore and healers worth.
Leaning back from the large oak desk, Elrond rubbed his eyes wearily and sighed yet again. With each day that passed, he knew that Elladan's condition was manifesting itself into something Elrond could not wield control over. It was late, the darkening sky brought a cool breeze; gently wafting through the room, bringing with it the delicate scent of primrose and autumn honeysuckle. Raising his hands to his face, Elrond rubbed his tired eyes with the balls of his fingers, unable to fully release his angst.
Reaching across the desk, Elrond pushed aside an accumulation of parchment and pulled a large rounded stone bowl towards him. The water contained within was cold now; the results of 14 hours study. Opening a small ornately carved wooden box that lay among the mass of books, Elrond laid two athelas leaves. The scent that rose immediately from the bowl; a strong combination of mint and wild grasses, did little to rouse his muted senses.
Elrond's mind had wondered, staring into the empty space before him; casually turning the carved wooden object over and over in his grip. He sighed deeply yet again, his eyes down cast towards the box, mindlessly tracing the intricate pattern of leaves and vines carved into the treated wood. Elrond's concentration was so ingrained on the tiny wooden object; he did not hear his visitor enter.
"You will rot your mind if you do not sleep" the voice was deep; searching tones seemed to penetrate Elrond's subconscious.
Elrond's gaze did not move, it stayed rooted to the object in hands; it was almost as if he could not put it down. His head was swimming with thought, unable to release that single contemplation that focused his worry. Elrond exhaled deeply again before speaking, placing the box gently upon the desk.
"If I wanted your opinion on my health Haldir; I would have asked you for it" the voice was weary, taxed by many hours of care giving and worry.
The Warden did not move, his watchful gaze still locked upon Elrond who seemed to visibly wilt under the strain. Another deep sigh unfocused Elrond's gaze, it flickered up towards Haldir; his eyes taking the look of concern that danced upon the March Wardens face.
"I am sorry Haldir" Elrond sighed, shaking his head wearily "this incident has challenged me in ways I never contemplated."
Elrond rubbed his face absently, rotating and shrugging his shoulders; the strain of seven days clearly evident in the still powerful muscles. Morning was threatening to break through the darkened cloud; gently piercing shades of a warm orange hue cracked the black sky above. A losing battle it would indeed be.
Elrohir stood before his brother's bed; the same worried expression still creased his young features. It had been days since Elladan had spoken and even longer since he had laughed. The deficiency of this simple act caused Elrohir unmentionable grief; never before had he seen his twin in such an unstable condition as Elves rarely if ever became unwell. And it seemed that after the 2000 years Elladan had graced the earth; illness had finally caught him in a deathly grip.
Sighing resolutely Elrohir fell into the chair facing the large wooden bed; his gaze never leaving the unconscious figure laying stock-still covered by thin blankets of lambs wool.
"Oh Brother" Elrohir sighed, a single tear slipping down his smooth face as he watched the ragged, shuddering breaths that caused Elladan's chest to rise and fall erratically.
Minutes passed as hours and days were more of an eternity as the healthy twin sat in despair, praying to the Valar that his brother would soon be returned to health and not taken from them. Elorir's thoughts were concentrated on his brother before the sound of a door opening shattered his reverie and brought him back to reality.
The figure of their father emerged through the door, a gentle swish of robes and click of a door closing caused Elrohir to turn; leaning over the arm of the hefty chair. Elrond smiled as he met his son's gaze, even though it was well hidden; he knew all so well that Elrohir had shed many tears that night.
"I thought I would find you here" Elrond smiled as he laid a hand onto Elorir's' shoulder, the warmth doing little to ease the tension in his son's stiff muscles. Elrohir simply smiled, he had energy to do little else.
"Have you been here all night?" Elrond already knew the answer before he had even asked.
"Not all night" Elrohir started, the purple shadows painted under his eyes told a different tale "I awoke before sunrise, I dreamt.." Elrohir faulted, it was if he did not want to continue "I dreamt Elladan was.was" his voice became weak and trailed off.
"Was dying" Elrond finished, fixing his son with a tender gaze. Elrohir simply nodded, he could feel fresh tears welling behind his eyes. He closed them, a shuddering sigh leaving his lungs.
Elrond felt a sudden pang of sympathy towards his son, having had his own twin brother die in his arms; he was all too aware of the pain and suffering Elrohir must be experiencing. It was one thing to have familiarity with death but to have one half of your soul die was an entirely different matter. He knelt at his son's side, steadying himself on the arm of the chair.
"It is understandable that you feel sadness over Elladan's condition" Elrond laid his had upon Elrohir other shoulder so father was facing son "But you must stay strong, for your brothers sake".
Elrohir lifted his head and stared deeply into his father's eyes, an all- encompassing warmth seemed to fill him but it did little to quell the grief he felt for Elladan. Elrond could see fear, cold, encasing panic dancing through his son's glassy eyed expression.
The battle against tears Elrohir had fought came to an end; his head bent again as a strangled cry of frustration escaped his lungs and his pent-up aggression manifested itself into loud racking sobs.
Elrond pulled his son strongly into his arms, allowing himself to find comfort in Elrohir arms. Seven days of grief, frustration and annoyance forced its way into Elrond sub-conscious. A single tear rolling down his cheek as he pulled Elrohir closer, gentle mumblings of reassurance escaped his lips that Elrond didn't believe himself. Not anymore.
A/N - Well, there it is. Tell me what you think Ladies and Gents.