Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places
thereof
Author's Note: I am aware of the fact that Elrond and Elros were twins. When Elros calls Elrond "little brother", it is because Elrond is smaller in stature than him. In the years of an Elf, thirty is about twelve mortal years. Celebrían calls Elrond "Peredhil-nin", "-nin" being possessive; that' her pet name for him. (dumb, yes, but I couldn't think of anything else)
Dragon: Could you note specifically what you dislike about it?
And thanks to all my reviewers, I love hearing from you all!
*****
The sun rose. It was a slow process, and as that brightly orb sailed to its place atop the horizon many minutes past, and such was the distortion of it that for a while the globe itself seemed a cauldron, more, until at last it was fully visible and was, quite clearly, the sun. A blanket of light was thrown over the land, removing the distortion from objects made by the darkness into monsters and adding a moving clarity to the mixture of emotions so clearly on the face of his twin. Elladan could see Elrohir's thoughts, and knew that, as in all times of troubles, his feelings had turned to simplicity. Anger and fear showed plainly in Elrohir's expression, but amplified, made to rage and terror. Elladan could not help but wonder if he was feeling such emotions himself, and so turned within himself to find an answer.
It had been three days since they left Imladris, and not once had the three riders halted. Elrond, for his part, seemed to survive solely on his anger and his thirst for vengeance grew ever stronger. The twins were not so unnaturally strong, and by helping each other along they managed to eat their meals and rest while riding. How the poor horses were still puttering along was completely beyond them. Elrohir had been riding just after his father, but after one quick glance dropped back beside his brother. "Are you remembering it, too, Elladan?"
~* "You two stay here."
Elladan and Elrohir are not supposed to be outside of Imladris. They are yet young at only thirty years. But when they heard that their father had gone off to hunt Orcs with a small fellowship of Elves, they had followed, seeking adventure and tired of being treated like children. It had not taken them long to catch up to the elder Elves, and for enough time they had gone unnoticed that, when they were found, the twins could not be sent back home--there was no one the fellowship could stand to lose, and the boys did not intend to return of their own free will, nor would they be allowed to. The fact that they found the others unscathed was miraculous, the area was so thick with Orcs.
"But Ada--" Elladan protests.
"No buts, Elladan," Elrond cuts him off. "Stay here!" With those parting words he is gone, leaving the twins on their own. The fellowship has encountered a band of Orcs, and Elrond has hidden his sons to keep them safe as best he can. If the worst should happen, they have their swords with them.
It had been Elladan that wanted to go after the party and Elladan that convinced his brother to go along. The entire time Elrohir had been dubious, saying often that they should turn back. But Elladan had kept on going, and so Elrohir had followed, although far less certain in his conviction. Now he is certain--and believes he should have stayed at home, safe. Elladan does not even think of safety. He is still having an adventure. "I dislike this hiding," Elladan says.
"Elladan," Elrohir moans. "Please, please do not mean what I think you mean!"
"I do mean it," Elladan replies, a fire to his voice. "Come on, Elrohir, let us go and kill some of those nasty brutes!" To accompany his brave words, Elladan draws his sword from its scabbard and rushes towards the fight. Elrohir notes that his brother is slashing at the Orcs from behind, and though he fells many it is in the manner of a coward. From his hiding spot Elrohir watches his brother swing his sword to the neck of one Orc and miss only when another of the beasts grabs him from behind. All this time Elrohir has watched, shaking, torn between his father's command and his brother's safety. Now the decision is made for him.
"Elladan!" Elrohir cries in dismay as his brother struggles in the hands of an Orc. He leaps from his hiding spot now, rushing to aid his brother. "Let him go!" the younger twin cries. At the sound of his voice Elrond turns and sees what is happening, and struggles against the Orcs with a new fervor, fighting to reach his sons. Elrohir comes to his brother first, and quickly disarms Elladan's captor. Without a word, an unspoken thanks passing between them, Elladan turns so that he and his brother are back-to-back. In this manner the Orcs will have even more trouble in reaching them.
As Elrohir raises his blade to parry one blow, another rains down, opening a gash in his arm. Elrohir cannot help but scream in pain as fire lashes through the appendage. Was the blade poisoned, or has it cut a muscle? He wonders. Elladan whips around. "Elrohir!" He rushes to the aid of his brother, returning the blow to the offending Orc, but as he does so he creates for them a weakness, and in moments only the Orcs have grabbed them both. The twins contest their captors, but in vain. The Orcs are retreating now. Just as a half-formed thought in Elladan's head begins to wonder why, he feels a blunt pain and his world fades to black. *~
*****
Celebrían shivered with pain as she was thrown harshly against the cell wall, and slipped down to the floor, where she remained, motionless. From this position she watched the Orcs leave her small pen, and wondered if they meant to prolong her suffering. 'Perhaps they know not of death by broken heart,' she thought. 'Perhaps I will die soon, and I will not need to feel this pain. . .'
As she thought over these postulates her mind seemed to clear, and she felt herself slipping away even as she considered this fate. For a few glorious moments, she felt release, and not pain nor suffering, and peace was so real to her. Only the memory of better times, of those who had cared for her and her fate, kept her from closing her eyes to revel in the one sleep Elves ever enjoy with eyes closed.
~* Celebrían is exhausted and frazzled. Damp, blond locks stick to her head with sweat, framing a cherry-red face lined with concentration as she works. It seems hours have passed since she started this toil, though it was more likely less than an hour. Even so, she is tired, and works on through it, straining herself for all she is worth.
The sound of crying reaches her ears, and she laughs. It is not for any particular reason that she laughs, but all at once a great pain is removed from her, and this musical noise brings her so much delight. . ."My lady," says the midwife. "My lady, there is another, it is not yet over. I am sorry." Celebrían's heart sinks, and again she begins to push again. The child refuses to come, and though she is pushing with all her might Celebrían knows she is not getting anywhere.
And she screams. With all her heart and soul Celebrían screams, channeling into that scream her pain and her effort. The note fills the room and spills into the hall, and all of Imladris can hear its Lady cry out in agony. And when the cry stops, another begins, a high-pitched wail starting out low, then growing louder, breaking for a sob and then again becoming a wail. The child is shushed, and his crying stops, dying down to a low gurgle. Celebrían flops back onto the pillows with weariness.
"Celebrían!" a worried voice exclaims, and she feels herself drawn into an embrace. "Celebrían, I was so frightened I had lost you!" Elrond holds his wife gently as his tears wet her face. He can not help but cry. Her scream, it had been so awesome, so filled with pain, that he could not help but believe that his children had come in to the world at the great price of his cherished wife. . .
Celebrían reaches up and strokes his face. "Peredhil-nin," she whispers, "but I am here." She raises her head and kisses him tenderly, then whispers, "Now go to your children, and allow me to have some rest."
"Of course," Elrond replies, but it is with immense misgivings that he takes his hands from his wife's body and turns away from her, and although he knows it is simply silliness he almost fears that without his eyes upon her she will disappear for ever. Celebrían smiles as she drifts into dreams. A contentment carries her, for she knows that she has had so much love given to her, and thusly has so much love to give. Despite the fatigue of her labor, Lady Celebrían feels in her heart and soul that she has eminently much love in a darkening world, and can scarcely wait to bestow that love upon the two tiny boys whom she has just brought in to this world. *~
*****
Elrond looked back at his boys, and suddenly for the first time realized he was pushing them too hard. His heart did not soften so that he would slow the pace. Much as he loved his sons, Celebrían was in grave danger with every second she spent in the hands of those foul creatures. But the boys. . .Elrond could hardly help but think of them as children. Remembering his own childhood, he had always wanted the boys to be happy. . .
~* "E-Elros? Where are we? I can not see anything!" Elrond exclaims, his eyes opening groggily, telling him that he had not been asleep, but unconscious.
"Shh," Elros says, gathering his little brother in his arms. Though the same in years, Elrond has always been somewhat smaller than Elros, and more lithe. "Listen to me, little one, this is very important. Are you listening?"
"Yes," Elrond says in a very small voice.
"I am glad you were not awake for it, little one. We are in the keep of Meadhros at the moment. We are living at his mercy," Elros explains, not trying to soften the blow of this at all.
Elrond's eyes are adjusting, and he can tell through the dim light that he and his brother are being kept in a very small place, in a holding cell not unlike a cage. There are metal bars around them on two sides and stone walls on the other two sides, and very little light from an unknown source. The air is damp and smells of mildew. Elrond is glad that his brother's arms are around him, for it is very cold. "Only until Mama comes," Elrond replies. "Mama will come and take us to safety, or Ada. Ada will come for us, Elros."
"No, brother," Elros says, sorrow tingeing his voice as he lightly strokes the younger boy's cheek. "Mama is not going to come for us." He does not bother to mention their father, who had been gone for months on his quest to find the Valar. Elrond feels very alone all of the sudden, and a hot tear slides down his cheek. "Do not cry, Ellie." It has been many years since anyone called Elrond by that childhood nickname, but from Elros it comforts him. He holds back his tears and looks up at his brother, trying to put on a brave face.
Suddenly there is a sound of metal jangling and of footsteps. Elros's head snaps up. He shoves Elrond from him, across the cell. Elrond tries to ask what is happening, but Elros hushes him. "You play like you are still unconscious, Ellie," Elros hisses. Too frightened to think to rebel, Elrond obeys. Moments later, he hears the sound of a key in a lock and of a door swinging open. Through his eyelids, he sees the room alight. There are scraping sounds he cannot identify, and the cell door clangs open.
"The little brat still unconscious?" asks a gruff voice.
"Yes," Elros replies.
"No one asked you!" the gruff voice says, and Elrond hears footsteps pass him, and the sound of a slap. "Here. Take it." The footsteps come near him again, then pause. "Useless--" and the voice calls him something quite obscene. Elrond knows better than to protest, and keeps up the act as his brother asked him. When he feels a sharp kick to his back, however, he cannot help but cry out. "So you are awake!" exclaims the voice. "And as stupid as your brother, you are, to lie to me, boy!" The next thing Elrond is aware of is the feel of a leather strap biting into his back.
"Stop it, don't hit him!" Elros cries, and at once is covering Elrond, shielding his twin with his own body. "He only did as I asked, do not punish him!"
"Heh, very well, have it your way."
Elrond's eyes are open now, and watering with tears. "Do not dare let them see you cry, Elrond, don't you dare," Elros hisses in his ear. Over his brother's voice Elrond is vaguely aware of the gruff voice shouting something, then Elros is pulled off him and he is pulled to his feet. Elrond's eyes are slipping closed again when he feels a sharp slap to his cheek.
"Wake up, boy!" the gruff voice calls. Elrond slowly eases his eyes open. He cannot stand on his own, but is being held up by the men he cannot see. "That's right. Now, look at me." Elrond tries to rebel, but a hand beneath his chin forces him to meet the speaker's eyes, and the boy gasps. It is the one who discovered them back in Sirion! "You know me now. Perhaps you recall that my brother called me Meadhros? I am 'Master' to you. I own you. Now, I have some business with your brother."
Elrond wonders where Elros is, and searches with his eyes to find him. The elder Elfling is against a wall, his palms pressed against the stone. His tunic lies rumpled on the ground, and Elrond can see welts on his back. As he watches, Meadhros raises a short leather strap and brings it down across Elros's shoulders. The Elfling does not even cry out. Elrond squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face away, but cruel hands force him to watch as his brother is hit again and again. He wants to cry, but hears Elros's voice in his head and does not. It is the least he can do.
At long last Meadhros replaces the strap on his belt, and says, "Maybe this will teach you to obey." Then he turns and leaves. With Meadhros's henchmen no longer holding him, Elrond falls to the ground. Across the cell, Elros leans against the stone, his breath labored. Elrond gets to his feet, shaking hard, and crosses the cell to his brother.
"Are you all right, Elros?" Elrond asks in a quiet voice.
"Yes," Elros replies in a breathy, ragged utterance. "You need not worry for me, Elrond, I am all right. Just a moment. . ." He wheezes, and for many moments more remains against the wall. At long last he sits, his back oozing blood. Elrond sits beside him and falls against him, and Elros puts an arm around his brother's shoulders.
"May I cry now?" Elrond asks.
"Yes, Elrond. Now you may cry." *~
Author's Note: I am aware of the fact that Elrond and Elros were twins. When Elros calls Elrond "little brother", it is because Elrond is smaller in stature than him. In the years of an Elf, thirty is about twelve mortal years. Celebrían calls Elrond "Peredhil-nin", "-nin" being possessive; that' her pet name for him. (dumb, yes, but I couldn't think of anything else)
Dragon: Could you note specifically what you dislike about it?
And thanks to all my reviewers, I love hearing from you all!
*****
The sun rose. It was a slow process, and as that brightly orb sailed to its place atop the horizon many minutes past, and such was the distortion of it that for a while the globe itself seemed a cauldron, more, until at last it was fully visible and was, quite clearly, the sun. A blanket of light was thrown over the land, removing the distortion from objects made by the darkness into monsters and adding a moving clarity to the mixture of emotions so clearly on the face of his twin. Elladan could see Elrohir's thoughts, and knew that, as in all times of troubles, his feelings had turned to simplicity. Anger and fear showed plainly in Elrohir's expression, but amplified, made to rage and terror. Elladan could not help but wonder if he was feeling such emotions himself, and so turned within himself to find an answer.
It had been three days since they left Imladris, and not once had the three riders halted. Elrond, for his part, seemed to survive solely on his anger and his thirst for vengeance grew ever stronger. The twins were not so unnaturally strong, and by helping each other along they managed to eat their meals and rest while riding. How the poor horses were still puttering along was completely beyond them. Elrohir had been riding just after his father, but after one quick glance dropped back beside his brother. "Are you remembering it, too, Elladan?"
~* "You two stay here."
Elladan and Elrohir are not supposed to be outside of Imladris. They are yet young at only thirty years. But when they heard that their father had gone off to hunt Orcs with a small fellowship of Elves, they had followed, seeking adventure and tired of being treated like children. It had not taken them long to catch up to the elder Elves, and for enough time they had gone unnoticed that, when they were found, the twins could not be sent back home--there was no one the fellowship could stand to lose, and the boys did not intend to return of their own free will, nor would they be allowed to. The fact that they found the others unscathed was miraculous, the area was so thick with Orcs.
"But Ada--" Elladan protests.
"No buts, Elladan," Elrond cuts him off. "Stay here!" With those parting words he is gone, leaving the twins on their own. The fellowship has encountered a band of Orcs, and Elrond has hidden his sons to keep them safe as best he can. If the worst should happen, they have their swords with them.
It had been Elladan that wanted to go after the party and Elladan that convinced his brother to go along. The entire time Elrohir had been dubious, saying often that they should turn back. But Elladan had kept on going, and so Elrohir had followed, although far less certain in his conviction. Now he is certain--and believes he should have stayed at home, safe. Elladan does not even think of safety. He is still having an adventure. "I dislike this hiding," Elladan says.
"Elladan," Elrohir moans. "Please, please do not mean what I think you mean!"
"I do mean it," Elladan replies, a fire to his voice. "Come on, Elrohir, let us go and kill some of those nasty brutes!" To accompany his brave words, Elladan draws his sword from its scabbard and rushes towards the fight. Elrohir notes that his brother is slashing at the Orcs from behind, and though he fells many it is in the manner of a coward. From his hiding spot Elrohir watches his brother swing his sword to the neck of one Orc and miss only when another of the beasts grabs him from behind. All this time Elrohir has watched, shaking, torn between his father's command and his brother's safety. Now the decision is made for him.
"Elladan!" Elrohir cries in dismay as his brother struggles in the hands of an Orc. He leaps from his hiding spot now, rushing to aid his brother. "Let him go!" the younger twin cries. At the sound of his voice Elrond turns and sees what is happening, and struggles against the Orcs with a new fervor, fighting to reach his sons. Elrohir comes to his brother first, and quickly disarms Elladan's captor. Without a word, an unspoken thanks passing between them, Elladan turns so that he and his brother are back-to-back. In this manner the Orcs will have even more trouble in reaching them.
As Elrohir raises his blade to parry one blow, another rains down, opening a gash in his arm. Elrohir cannot help but scream in pain as fire lashes through the appendage. Was the blade poisoned, or has it cut a muscle? He wonders. Elladan whips around. "Elrohir!" He rushes to the aid of his brother, returning the blow to the offending Orc, but as he does so he creates for them a weakness, and in moments only the Orcs have grabbed them both. The twins contest their captors, but in vain. The Orcs are retreating now. Just as a half-formed thought in Elladan's head begins to wonder why, he feels a blunt pain and his world fades to black. *~
*****
Celebrían shivered with pain as she was thrown harshly against the cell wall, and slipped down to the floor, where she remained, motionless. From this position she watched the Orcs leave her small pen, and wondered if they meant to prolong her suffering. 'Perhaps they know not of death by broken heart,' she thought. 'Perhaps I will die soon, and I will not need to feel this pain. . .'
As she thought over these postulates her mind seemed to clear, and she felt herself slipping away even as she considered this fate. For a few glorious moments, she felt release, and not pain nor suffering, and peace was so real to her. Only the memory of better times, of those who had cared for her and her fate, kept her from closing her eyes to revel in the one sleep Elves ever enjoy with eyes closed.
~* Celebrían is exhausted and frazzled. Damp, blond locks stick to her head with sweat, framing a cherry-red face lined with concentration as she works. It seems hours have passed since she started this toil, though it was more likely less than an hour. Even so, she is tired, and works on through it, straining herself for all she is worth.
The sound of crying reaches her ears, and she laughs. It is not for any particular reason that she laughs, but all at once a great pain is removed from her, and this musical noise brings her so much delight. . ."My lady," says the midwife. "My lady, there is another, it is not yet over. I am sorry." Celebrían's heart sinks, and again she begins to push again. The child refuses to come, and though she is pushing with all her might Celebrían knows she is not getting anywhere.
And she screams. With all her heart and soul Celebrían screams, channeling into that scream her pain and her effort. The note fills the room and spills into the hall, and all of Imladris can hear its Lady cry out in agony. And when the cry stops, another begins, a high-pitched wail starting out low, then growing louder, breaking for a sob and then again becoming a wail. The child is shushed, and his crying stops, dying down to a low gurgle. Celebrían flops back onto the pillows with weariness.
"Celebrían!" a worried voice exclaims, and she feels herself drawn into an embrace. "Celebrían, I was so frightened I had lost you!" Elrond holds his wife gently as his tears wet her face. He can not help but cry. Her scream, it had been so awesome, so filled with pain, that he could not help but believe that his children had come in to the world at the great price of his cherished wife. . .
Celebrían reaches up and strokes his face. "Peredhil-nin," she whispers, "but I am here." She raises her head and kisses him tenderly, then whispers, "Now go to your children, and allow me to have some rest."
"Of course," Elrond replies, but it is with immense misgivings that he takes his hands from his wife's body and turns away from her, and although he knows it is simply silliness he almost fears that without his eyes upon her she will disappear for ever. Celebrían smiles as she drifts into dreams. A contentment carries her, for she knows that she has had so much love given to her, and thusly has so much love to give. Despite the fatigue of her labor, Lady Celebrían feels in her heart and soul that she has eminently much love in a darkening world, and can scarcely wait to bestow that love upon the two tiny boys whom she has just brought in to this world. *~
*****
Elrond looked back at his boys, and suddenly for the first time realized he was pushing them too hard. His heart did not soften so that he would slow the pace. Much as he loved his sons, Celebrían was in grave danger with every second she spent in the hands of those foul creatures. But the boys. . .Elrond could hardly help but think of them as children. Remembering his own childhood, he had always wanted the boys to be happy. . .
~* "E-Elros? Where are we? I can not see anything!" Elrond exclaims, his eyes opening groggily, telling him that he had not been asleep, but unconscious.
"Shh," Elros says, gathering his little brother in his arms. Though the same in years, Elrond has always been somewhat smaller than Elros, and more lithe. "Listen to me, little one, this is very important. Are you listening?"
"Yes," Elrond says in a very small voice.
"I am glad you were not awake for it, little one. We are in the keep of Meadhros at the moment. We are living at his mercy," Elros explains, not trying to soften the blow of this at all.
Elrond's eyes are adjusting, and he can tell through the dim light that he and his brother are being kept in a very small place, in a holding cell not unlike a cage. There are metal bars around them on two sides and stone walls on the other two sides, and very little light from an unknown source. The air is damp and smells of mildew. Elrond is glad that his brother's arms are around him, for it is very cold. "Only until Mama comes," Elrond replies. "Mama will come and take us to safety, or Ada. Ada will come for us, Elros."
"No, brother," Elros says, sorrow tingeing his voice as he lightly strokes the younger boy's cheek. "Mama is not going to come for us." He does not bother to mention their father, who had been gone for months on his quest to find the Valar. Elrond feels very alone all of the sudden, and a hot tear slides down his cheek. "Do not cry, Ellie." It has been many years since anyone called Elrond by that childhood nickname, but from Elros it comforts him. He holds back his tears and looks up at his brother, trying to put on a brave face.
Suddenly there is a sound of metal jangling and of footsteps. Elros's head snaps up. He shoves Elrond from him, across the cell. Elrond tries to ask what is happening, but Elros hushes him. "You play like you are still unconscious, Ellie," Elros hisses. Too frightened to think to rebel, Elrond obeys. Moments later, he hears the sound of a key in a lock and of a door swinging open. Through his eyelids, he sees the room alight. There are scraping sounds he cannot identify, and the cell door clangs open.
"The little brat still unconscious?" asks a gruff voice.
"Yes," Elros replies.
"No one asked you!" the gruff voice says, and Elrond hears footsteps pass him, and the sound of a slap. "Here. Take it." The footsteps come near him again, then pause. "Useless--" and the voice calls him something quite obscene. Elrond knows better than to protest, and keeps up the act as his brother asked him. When he feels a sharp kick to his back, however, he cannot help but cry out. "So you are awake!" exclaims the voice. "And as stupid as your brother, you are, to lie to me, boy!" The next thing Elrond is aware of is the feel of a leather strap biting into his back.
"Stop it, don't hit him!" Elros cries, and at once is covering Elrond, shielding his twin with his own body. "He only did as I asked, do not punish him!"
"Heh, very well, have it your way."
Elrond's eyes are open now, and watering with tears. "Do not dare let them see you cry, Elrond, don't you dare," Elros hisses in his ear. Over his brother's voice Elrond is vaguely aware of the gruff voice shouting something, then Elros is pulled off him and he is pulled to his feet. Elrond's eyes are slipping closed again when he feels a sharp slap to his cheek.
"Wake up, boy!" the gruff voice calls. Elrond slowly eases his eyes open. He cannot stand on his own, but is being held up by the men he cannot see. "That's right. Now, look at me." Elrond tries to rebel, but a hand beneath his chin forces him to meet the speaker's eyes, and the boy gasps. It is the one who discovered them back in Sirion! "You know me now. Perhaps you recall that my brother called me Meadhros? I am 'Master' to you. I own you. Now, I have some business with your brother."
Elrond wonders where Elros is, and searches with his eyes to find him. The elder Elfling is against a wall, his palms pressed against the stone. His tunic lies rumpled on the ground, and Elrond can see welts on his back. As he watches, Meadhros raises a short leather strap and brings it down across Elros's shoulders. The Elfling does not even cry out. Elrond squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face away, but cruel hands force him to watch as his brother is hit again and again. He wants to cry, but hears Elros's voice in his head and does not. It is the least he can do.
At long last Meadhros replaces the strap on his belt, and says, "Maybe this will teach you to obey." Then he turns and leaves. With Meadhros's henchmen no longer holding him, Elrond falls to the ground. Across the cell, Elros leans against the stone, his breath labored. Elrond gets to his feet, shaking hard, and crosses the cell to his brother.
"Are you all right, Elros?" Elrond asks in a quiet voice.
"Yes," Elros replies in a breathy, ragged utterance. "You need not worry for me, Elrond, I am all right. Just a moment. . ." He wheezes, and for many moments more remains against the wall. At long last he sits, his back oozing blood. Elrond sits beside him and falls against him, and Elros puts an arm around his brother's shoulders.
"May I cry now?" Elrond asks.
"Yes, Elrond. Now you may cry." *~