Title - Rivendell Burning - Chapter 2 - The Black Cloud of Grief

Author - Jules AKA Yunadax

Rating - PG 13 -

Disclaimer - They Do.. I Don't

Authors Notes - Angst warning! I am NOT nice to characters in this fic.. it contains gore, serious angst, death and other not nice things. Also.. it makes sense to read chapter one first.

Dedication - To Minka (the holder of the Royal LEFT Boot of Muse Inspiration), Katie, Sonbon and the Pak.

The Black Cloud of Grief.

Glorfindel breathed a sigh of relief as the eldest son of Elrond passed quickly out of the world of the waking. The pain-filled eyes slid closed and his body slumped against the trunk of the large tree the blonde elf had rested him up again. Normally Glorfindel wouldn't wish unconsciousness on anyone, but he knew the treatment of Elladan's injuries would be excruciatingly painful. His crushed ribcage needed to be tightly bound, and his burns cleansed with cool water and wrapped in bandages to retain what moisture they could before the blisters burst. Glorfindel turned to gather some more rags and silently thanked the elf that was looking after Legolas, who also was bathing the Mirkwood Prince's burns with water while another elf wrapped his chest. They had still to find Elrohir, but there was little he could do for the missing elf-lord with the lives of so many already hanging under his banner of care. He buried his guilt deeper within his heart and tended once again to the fallen Elladan, gently bathing the horrible burns and cleansing the soot, ash and blood from the clammy skin.

It was at that precise moment that the other heir to Imladris emerged from the now smoke-belching stables, a handful of terrified horses behind him. He was clad only in his breaches and boots, his shirt covering the eyes of one of the more frightened animals. Sweat and grime covered his torso as was his face, his bright eyes seemingly appearing out of a blackened face. Streaks lined the darkened skin, his eyes still rapidly tearing even though he had reached the relatively clear air of the outside. The horses once clear of the burning stable rushed forward, rapidly picking their way through the wounded and disappearing in their panic into the valley, their skittering hoofbeats echoing around the chasm's rock walls long after they had gone. Seeing that his charges were now taking care of themselves Elrohir quickly made his way over to where he could see Glorfindel working on an elf. As he neared he noted the fallen elf was his brother, and a surge of relief coursed through his veins, taking with it the rapid rush of adrenaline was still flooding through his system. He glanced around, spying also Legolas and his father among the wounded. But where was Estel? He touched the shoulder of his fathers' closest confidant, quietly alerting the other to his presence as he took in the battered form of his twin. Glorfindel left his ministrations to attend to Elrond, allowing the brothers a moment alone.

A gasp of disbelief escaped Elrohir's parched and bleeding lips as he saw the condition of his dear brother. He dropped to his knees and gingerly reached out to touch the face that mirrored his own. The skin that was not horribly blistered felt cold and clammy to his touch. He thanked the Valar that his twin was alive, and for the fact that he was unconscious for the time being, no being should ever have to endure the pain that Elladan would when he awoke. A low moan eased its way through the twins' lips, the blistered skin stretching painfully as wakefulness flirted with his mind. Elrohir held his breath as Elladan began to stir, wanting to aid him in any way he could once his brother awoke. A sharp call from Glorfindel interrupted them, tearing Elrohir's gaze away from his brother's agonized face.

" Elrohir, quickly!"

Elrohir's heart was nearly torn, to stay by the side of his twin, or to go to the side of the father. The distressed look on the blonde elf's features told him all he needed to know. Elrond was dying.

The dark lord hurried over to his father's side, trying to ignore the pleading faces of the wounded and the silent faces of the dead as he moved between the bodies separating him from his father. He fell again to his knees by the elf lord's side, grasping one limp cool hand between his own as his very eyes pleaded for Elrond to continue breathing. Words failed him as tears ran like rivers down his sooty face, carving pale streaks against a sea of black. Desperation gripped Elrohir as his father's chest weakly rose and fell, the wheeze in the elf lord's feeble breath telling the healer in his son what he didn't wish to know.

As the Lord of Imladris weakly exhaled for the last time grief washed over Elrohir, blocking out everything else except the fact that he had just witnessed the passing of his own father. He dimly noted a hand on his shoulder, gently easing him backwards until he was forced to confront its owner. Glorfindel stood mutely, Erestor behind him, both with grief written plainly upon their features, yet both also knowing that they could not allow the Twin the comfort of grief while so many still lay injured. There would be a time for grief and mourning later.

" Estel?" Elrohir asked, his voice catching as he fought to contain the one emotion surging through him. Glorfindel could not bring himself to add more grief to one already so burdened. Erestor shook his head slightly, and it was all Elrohir needed to know that Estel had perished in the blaze. His knees buckled beneath him, sending his body crashing to the soft earth as his mind refused to deal with the weight of so much grief.

" Come Elrohir, you must see through your grief and aid us with the wounded. You are more skilled than us in the art of healing." Erestor pleaded, kneeling to see Elrohir eye to eye. Elrohir stared up at the other elf through glazed eyes, his mind refusing to process anything but his own grief. Erestor gently aided Elrond's now youngest son into standing and eased him away from the fallen Lord, guiding back to where Elladan was, hoping the need to care for his twin would even out the mind-numbing emotions Elrohir was feeling.

When next Elladan awoke his twin was by his side, carefully tending his wounds and feeling his forehead for signs of infection. The grey eyes flickered open and gazed into those of his brother, finding all he needed to know about what had transpired since he had been rescued. He knew without words that his father and foster brother were dead and a dark cloud descended upon his heart. But there was something else in his brother's eyes, something that he had not disclosed yet.

" What is it Elrohir? What else has happened?" Elladan asked, pain making his voice course and rough.

" I know the one who did this, I had him cornered in the stables. But he set the straw alight and I had to free the horses. I couldn't go back for him and I didn't see him behind me. He would have been killed when the stable collapsed. But I tell you this brother, and to you alone. He was from Denethor of Gondor, dressed in black wearing the mark of the Tree. They meant to kill Ada, just as they meant to kill Estel, and meant for us to die as well. What we will never know is why." He breathed a sigh of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted from his aching shoulders with the telling of the tale.

To Be Continued.