To Fate.

Chapter Three: Like Dying.

Elrohir groaned lightly. He twisted over painfully to his side on the narrow bed. It probably wasn't the best idea. A sharp pang shot through his side and caused yet another loud groan.

Elladan, who was sitting outside, grimaced at the sound. He couldn't help but feel guilty, and listening to his brother in pain certainly wasn't helping. The events of the afternoon flooded back to him in a quick memory of what couldn't be even an hour.

The twins had set out from Imladris that morning on what could only be described as a 'get away from father' trip. The constant annoyance that was the twins had finally driven Elrond mad, and he sent the two out into the woods for a while.

Elrohir and Elladan had been separated for a few seconds not too far into their trip. Elladan, being the over-cautious one and quite protective of his brother, thought a party of Orcs had entered the Elven woods.

Naturally, the Elf had set his bow and shot at the disturbance with ease. It wasn't until he heard the yelp of pain that he realized what he had shot at. Elrohir had been hiding in the tree above. Not two seconds later, the Elf had fallen out of the tree with a loud thump and lied there moaning for a while.

Elrond had been less than pleased to see his oldest son carrying a body into the halls. It had only added to the Elf-lord's displeasure to realized the body was Elrohir's. Now the young Elf lied in the Hall of Healing, groaning and complaining more than anyone who had ever crossed those halls.

Another loud groan pierced the silence. Elladan scurried away from the door. How could he have shot at his own brother? They all knew no Orcs could enter the last homely house. It was proposterous. He shot his brother. It seemed all the more awful the more he said it to himself.

A young she-Elf stomped quite un-Elvenlike out of the chamber.

"I give up, Elladan! That brother of your's has been nothing but trouble since the start! Its an arrow! Not the bloody end of the world! Its not like he's dying! Make him shut it!"

The frankness of the woman startled the young Elf for a moment before he realized who it was. It was non other than Minuial, the craziest Elf ever born next to the twins.

"Terribly sorry, m'lady. Didn't know you couldn't handle a challenge." He smirked inwardly at his own cleverness as another groan errupted.

"You know he's only doing that because you're out here. Calm yourself. That boy is fine. He's not in the least in pain. At least he hasn't been for the past three groans or so. I gave him some herbs. Now tell him to stop his whining or I'll go and personally put him in real pain." Minuial turned on her heels, reentering the room.

Elladan sat outside for a long while, not doing anything. He finally got up the nerve to stand, but didn't get much further than that. He couldn't face his brother. There was simply too much to talk about that he knew it was wrong to burden a hurt Elf with. Mortality and immortality being the main subject at this point. The Valinor question had long since been answered.

AN: What do you all think? I thought it was too short. That's just me though. I'll update soon. A whole week off of school!