Summary - After a great loss, Elladan is devastated. Can a young human help
him regain his light?
Notes - This chapter contains an archery scene. The correct layout for an archery target starting from the gold centre and moving out is:
Gold, red, blue, black, white.
Just saves me from having to explain the location of every arrow!
Thanks to Alex for the idea for the flashback scene! I owe you one!
Half a Heart
Part Three - I shall be there
Years passed. Estel continued to travel with the rangers. In time, they discovered his true identity and he came into his rightful place as their leader. He took Calendil as his second, the slightly older man having become a treasured friend. Still, he returned to Rivendell and his family whenever he could. Elladan he knew continued to roam the wilds alone, something that worried Estel greatly. They had on occasion met up and Elladan had travelled with them for a while. Estel had hoped he would stay, but it had reminded Elladan too much of the times he had ridden with the rangers together with Elrohir. He had left them to wander the wilds once more, only occasionally returning home. Elrond worried about him, but had not the heart to forbid him his journeys, praying that he might find peace somewhere along the way. Still, he missed him terribly. His own heart still grieved for Elrohir and though he thanked the Valar that Elladan had not faded, sometimes he wasn't sure that he hadn't lost both his sons.
Estel thought back to the last time he had been home. It had not been a happy occasion. Elrond had sent for him, requesting his presence on the 1000th anniversary of Elrohir's death. He feared that Elladan would need all the support he could get on this milestone day, support he would not be able to give as he grieved his son. He had been right. His brother had cried all day, under the weeping willow. Estel had found him there and had sat with him, soothing him as best he could. It was on that day he came to realise how elves saw the passing of time. 1000 years was both an eternity and a mere moment in time. Elladan had been parted from his brother for a millennium, but the grief was still raw and fresh. It was, Estel supposed, the reason elves had so many problems with grief. Yet he was a proud of his brother, any lesser elf would have faded long ago, but Elladan was a survivor.
That had been some four months ago. He really should try to get back again soon he thought. He cared deeply for Elladan and had always been close to his brother. He would have done anything to help him, but not all the love in the world could bring Elrohir back from the dead. "As soon as we clear this area of orcs and wargs, I'll take a trip home and hope he's there." He vowed.
*********************************
Elladan walked lightly over the snow that covered the path to the Misty Mountains. He had taken the long way round, unable to bring himself to go past *that* cave. He wasn't really looking where he was going, trusting his feet and instincts while his mind wandered to the missing part of his heart once more. Elrohir. His twin, his other half. Gone now for a whole millennium, yet always in his heart - and his memories.
*Flashback*
"Thunk." The arrow hit the target in the blue ring at three o clock. The elfling scowled and shot another. It landed close to the first. He shot a third arrow. It hit just below the other two. "I give up!" He cried. "They will not go in the centre!" Glorfindel laughed. "Patience Elrohir! You cannot expect to become an expert overnight! It takes years of practice to become a good archer! You are actually doing very well; they are all grouping in the same place, which is an excellent sign! So do not mope, step aside and let your brother have a go!" Pouting, Elrohir left the shooting line as Elladan stepped up. Elladan's first arrow hit the blue at seven o clock. His second hit the red at five o clock. His third, to his great delight, just hit the edge of the gold. "Look!" He cried. Look Glorfy, look 'Ro, I got one in the gold!" "That's very good Elladan." Glorfindel said with a smile. "But remember, you need to be able to get all your arrows in the same place every time. That is more important that just getting one in the gold. It is called consistency. Elrohir, I think you have consistency, but you need to work on getting them in the right place! Still, our lesson is over for today, well done both of you." The twins grinned and rushed off, chattering happily about the lesson.
As they had grown older, it had become apparent that Elrohir was the slightly better archer, while Elladan was better at swordplay. Elrohir also had another talent, one that Elladan found both amusing and heart warming to watch.
"No, hold it like this." Elladan smiled as his twin positioned the youngster's hands on the bow. Glorfindel has been busy of late and so the twins had taken over one of Glorfindel's more pleasant but no less important duties - the training of the next generation of warriors. Elrohir was teaching the archery class. Elrohir stepped back as the elfling made the shot. The arrow hit the red at four o clock, a vast improvement from the previous two attempts, which had only just scraped onto the white of the target. Elrohir was a natural teacher and the elflings adored him.
He wished he'd been around to teach Estel.
The little human flung down his small training bow and stomped off. "Estel wait!" Elladan called, rushing after him and stepping in front of the boy. The child glared at him. "No!" He yelled. "It doesn't work! I don't want to do it anymore!" He tried to move past the elf, but Elladan refused to let him. "Estel, you must not give up! We all go through this when we are learning. You must practice, only then will you improve!" He desperately wished Elrohir were there, his brother had been a far better teacher than he was. Estel's temper tantrum has come about after all three of his arrows had failed to hit the target. He young human looked ready to explode and Elladan lacked his brother's gentle patience. "What would Elrohir do?" He asked himself. He already knew the answer. His brother's voice sounded clearly in his memory. "Don't tell them what they're doing wrong, tell them what they're doing right. Do not underestimate the importance of the error, but do not make it seem like it the end of Arda!" Taking his brother's words to heart, Elladan knelt before Estel and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Estel, missing the target does not mean you are a bad archer. Your style is very good; we just need to work on your aim! So come, let's practice some more shall we?" His gentle tone was rewarded with a tentative nod from Estel. Smiling, Elladan took the small hand in his and led him back to the practice range. "Thank you brother."
*End Flashback*
Elladan smiled slightly at the memories and the memories of memories. Estel had become an accomplished archer since that almost disastrous day, He had continued to tutor him for some years after, one year getting help from Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, whom Estel had taken an instant liking to. "Perhaps I should visit Mirkwood." He thought idly as he walked closer to the mountains. It had been a long time since he'd last walked in the woodland realm, at least five centuries. The prince and his father had been good friends of his once, until the tragedy in his life had caused him to withdraw and distance himself from those who could further wound his heart. Estel was the first person that had made him feel alive again.
********************************
Strider groaned and pulled the thin blanket over his head. Calendil laughed. "Come now Strider! The sun is up, it is time to be away!" The ranger sat up and glared at his friend. "We have not ceased fighting for a single day these past two weeks. We have not had four hours rest. It is freezing cold. There is simply no good reason for you to be cheerful. So for the Valar's sake, shut up Calendil!" The only response he got was another laugh. Sighing, he sat up and began to ready himself for another gruelling day. As they got closer to the misty mountains, the chances of stumbling across orc lairs and patrols grew. As soon as they'd cleared this latest incursion, Estel vowed to take the whole lot of them to Rivendell, for some much needed rest and recuperation. That did not look like being soon though was he thought as his scout came running full out towards him, gasping for breath and managing a single word as he pointed north. "Orcs!"
"Here we go again." Strider thought grimly as he took in the sixty-strong orc patrol. They would have to kill at least four each to stand a chance of prevailing. He stood his ground with the others, his bow in his hand, an arrow ready to fly. Calendil was next to him, his bow also drawn and ready.
As the orcs came into sight, the rangers released a barrage of arrows. Several orcs fell, but many were wearing armour and the arrows did not penetrate. This battle was going to have to be hand-to-hand combat. As soon as the orcs were close enough, Strider drew his sword. His eyes narrowed as he selected a target. A moment later the orcs were amongst them and he was slicing and hacking at the creatures. Their armour was incredibly tough and while his elvish sword cleaved it easily, the others were having problems. Ducking a viscous swipe from an orcish blade, he sliced the beast across the stomach. Spinning round, he thrust his blade through the neck of an orc Calendil was struggling with. His sword sliced the armour there far easier than anywhere else. "Go for the neck!" He yelled to the rangers. "The armour is weaker!" Without stopping, he took the head off another nearby orc. From the corner of his eye he saw half a dozen orcs break off and head back the way they'd come from. Immediately, Estel knew that they were hiding something. He called out to Calendil. "I'm going after them! Stay here and finish this lot off!" Calendil nodded and fought on, not daring to speak lest he was distracted. Estel called to two rangers, bidding them follow him. Knowing Calendil and the others could handle the patrol now that they knew their weakness, Estel wasted no time in chasing the escaping orcs. The three humans were faster than the evil beasts and caught up with them before they reached their camp. Three fell to the ranger's arrows, their hideous shrieks filling the air. Strider tried to get another, but this orc was swifter than most and dodged the arrow. Lunging, he swung his sword outwards and by sheer luck, managed to sever the orc's right foot. It went down in a spray of black blood. Estel stepped up and plunged his sword into the orc's chest. "What are they hiding?" He wondered. That they didn't want the humans to get to their camp was obvious. He and the other two rangers charged the two remaining orcs. The ranger on his right hissed in pain as an orc knife sliced his arm open, but it was not a mortal wound and would heal, though it would require several stitches. The orcs fell swiftly to the ranger's blades and Estel and his companions finally entered the orc camp and saw what it was the orcs had not wanted them to find.
All the colour drained from Estel's face. He couldn't believe the sight that met his eyes. A limp figure hung from between the branches of two young trees. He had been badly beaten and whipped. Blood covered the pale body. "No." Estel shook his head in utter denial. "Please Elbereth no! Elladan!" Forcing back a sob he rushed to the limp form of his brother. With two swift strokes of his sword he'd cut the elf down and was cradling him in his arms. "Ai, Elladan." He moaned. "What happened?" He received no reply though, for the elf was unconscious, his breathing shallow and his eyes terrifyingly closed. Estel had long feared that something would befall his brother, knowing well the dangers of the wilds. Still, he had hoped that his brother's age and experience would serve to keep him safe. Now he felt as if his world was falling apart. The other two rangers stood slightly behind him, respectfully giving him some time with his brother. Eventually though, the ranger to his right laid a hand on his shoulder. "We cannot stay here. There may be more orcs about and your brother needs medical attention." Dumbly, Estel nodded. He could hardly think, the reality of the situation was too much. He walked back to the site of the battle, still holding the limp form in his arms. Calendil was assisting the other rangers in piling up the orc carcasses for burning. When Strider walked back holding the unconscious form of his brother, he rushed up. Horror grew within him as he recognised the elf. One look at Strider told him that the man was in no condition to resume command. He led the man away from the battle site and quickly started a small fire. "Strider. Listen to me." He said. He spoke firmly; trying to break the daze Estel was in. "He needs your help. You must treat him." He sighed when he received no response. "Strider! Do you want him to die?!" The terrible threat broke through and Estel stared at his friend in horror.
"Oh Valar! What am I to do?" Calendil gave him a reassuring smile. "You know what to do. Elladan trained you himself. So do it." Estel looked up, new confidence in his eyes. "Thank you." "You're welcome." Calendil replied and left to give Estel his privacy.
Estel quickly boiled the water in his flask. Crumbling some athelas into the water, he let the healing scent wash over him, soothing his aching heart and calming his mind for the task ahead. Ever so gently, he turned his brother over onto his stomach, revealing the many nasty lash marks. Folding a cloth into a square he dipped it into the herb-filled water before beginning to carefully clean the flaming wounds. As he ran the cloth over a particularly deep gash, a moan came from the prone figure. "I'm sorry Elladan." He whispered. "Just hold on, I'll be done soon." Another moan came from the elf, almost breaking Estel's heart. "I'm so sorry, I don't want to hurt you." He almost sobbed. It was killing him to see his brother in so much pain. When he was at last done cleaning all the back wounds, he shifted him in his arms so that he could start again on the front of the elf's battered torso.
Finally all the wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, a sleeping draught had been administered and Estel could at last relax. The wounds were thankfully not as bad as he had feared, though painful there was no poison and would heal quickly. Estel suspected he had not been held captive for very long, Elbereth be praised. He couldn't help the dark thoughts that crept into his mind; he wished he'd known which orc had done the whipping so he could have made him suffer more before he'd killed him. He hated orcs as much as Elladan and Elrond; orcs had killed his birthparents and destroyed what should have been his home. Only the grace of the Valar and the kindness of the elves had given him a life worth living.
Calendil walked up to where Estel sat, has hand resting lightly on this brother's chest. "How fares he?" He asked softly. Strider let out a long breath. "He is resting now. Thankfully there was no poison and he will recover." He looked up at his friend and Calendil could see traces of tears in the ranger's eyes. "Strider?" Estel took a deep, shuddering breath. "Ever since I was old enough to understand elven grief and the depth of Elladan's loss, I have wondered about his will to live. He said he stayed for his father and later for me, but I always suspected he still longed for death, even if he didn't actively seek it. When I saw him hanging there - I thought he'd finally given up and gone to find Elrohir in Mandos' Halls." He turned his gaze to the still form, now thankfully in a healing sleep, "I couldn't bear to lose him." Calendil smiled. "You won't. He's a survivor. Have faith in him." Estel ran his hand across the pale cheek. "I do. The Valar know I do."
*********************
Three days had passed since the attack. Two rangers had died in the battle; they had been buried the day before with as much dignity as possible given the current location. Estel grieved their passing, but thanked Iluvatar for sparing his brother. Calendil had teased him the day before, about the amount of tea he'd been making. "He'll be unconscious for a decade!" He'd joked. Estel shook his head. "No, just for a day to two, to let him heal without pain. He's suffered too much already."
Now though, the wounds had healed for the most part and Estel was just waiting for the tea to wear off. As soon as he was well enough to travel, they'd head to Rivendell, where their father could make sure there were no other side effects from the beatings, no hidden poisons or dark magic's.
A groan alerted him to the fact that his brother was coming round. Taking the pale hand in his he knelt beside him. "Elladan? Elladan, its Estel. Can you hear me? It's time to get up now!" There was another moan and then eyelashes fluttered open, revealing blurry grey eyes. Estel smiled. "Welcome back." "Thank you. I think." Was the slow reply as the elf attempted to sit. Estel moved forward and supported him. "Careful. You've been though a lot. Valar Elladan, I was so scared. Don't ever do that to me again!" Estel took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. I was just worried. Get some rest, when you're a bit stronger we'll head home ok?" The comment was rewarded with a warm smile. "Yes, I'd like to go home." Estel grinned. "Good. I'll go and get you something to eat!" He got up, but as he went to move away he was called back. "There's just one thing I think you should know Estel..." He turned. "Yes?" "I'm not Elladan."
END PART 3
*Grins* I'm so evil! Review please! Part four is allllll ready! ;)
Notes - This chapter contains an archery scene. The correct layout for an archery target starting from the gold centre and moving out is:
Gold, red, blue, black, white.
Just saves me from having to explain the location of every arrow!
Thanks to Alex for the idea for the flashback scene! I owe you one!
Half a Heart
Part Three - I shall be there
Years passed. Estel continued to travel with the rangers. In time, they discovered his true identity and he came into his rightful place as their leader. He took Calendil as his second, the slightly older man having become a treasured friend. Still, he returned to Rivendell and his family whenever he could. Elladan he knew continued to roam the wilds alone, something that worried Estel greatly. They had on occasion met up and Elladan had travelled with them for a while. Estel had hoped he would stay, but it had reminded Elladan too much of the times he had ridden with the rangers together with Elrohir. He had left them to wander the wilds once more, only occasionally returning home. Elrond worried about him, but had not the heart to forbid him his journeys, praying that he might find peace somewhere along the way. Still, he missed him terribly. His own heart still grieved for Elrohir and though he thanked the Valar that Elladan had not faded, sometimes he wasn't sure that he hadn't lost both his sons.
Estel thought back to the last time he had been home. It had not been a happy occasion. Elrond had sent for him, requesting his presence on the 1000th anniversary of Elrohir's death. He feared that Elladan would need all the support he could get on this milestone day, support he would not be able to give as he grieved his son. He had been right. His brother had cried all day, under the weeping willow. Estel had found him there and had sat with him, soothing him as best he could. It was on that day he came to realise how elves saw the passing of time. 1000 years was both an eternity and a mere moment in time. Elladan had been parted from his brother for a millennium, but the grief was still raw and fresh. It was, Estel supposed, the reason elves had so many problems with grief. Yet he was a proud of his brother, any lesser elf would have faded long ago, but Elladan was a survivor.
That had been some four months ago. He really should try to get back again soon he thought. He cared deeply for Elladan and had always been close to his brother. He would have done anything to help him, but not all the love in the world could bring Elrohir back from the dead. "As soon as we clear this area of orcs and wargs, I'll take a trip home and hope he's there." He vowed.
*********************************
Elladan walked lightly over the snow that covered the path to the Misty Mountains. He had taken the long way round, unable to bring himself to go past *that* cave. He wasn't really looking where he was going, trusting his feet and instincts while his mind wandered to the missing part of his heart once more. Elrohir. His twin, his other half. Gone now for a whole millennium, yet always in his heart - and his memories.
*Flashback*
"Thunk." The arrow hit the target in the blue ring at three o clock. The elfling scowled and shot another. It landed close to the first. He shot a third arrow. It hit just below the other two. "I give up!" He cried. "They will not go in the centre!" Glorfindel laughed. "Patience Elrohir! You cannot expect to become an expert overnight! It takes years of practice to become a good archer! You are actually doing very well; they are all grouping in the same place, which is an excellent sign! So do not mope, step aside and let your brother have a go!" Pouting, Elrohir left the shooting line as Elladan stepped up. Elladan's first arrow hit the blue at seven o clock. His second hit the red at five o clock. His third, to his great delight, just hit the edge of the gold. "Look!" He cried. Look Glorfy, look 'Ro, I got one in the gold!" "That's very good Elladan." Glorfindel said with a smile. "But remember, you need to be able to get all your arrows in the same place every time. That is more important that just getting one in the gold. It is called consistency. Elrohir, I think you have consistency, but you need to work on getting them in the right place! Still, our lesson is over for today, well done both of you." The twins grinned and rushed off, chattering happily about the lesson.
As they had grown older, it had become apparent that Elrohir was the slightly better archer, while Elladan was better at swordplay. Elrohir also had another talent, one that Elladan found both amusing and heart warming to watch.
"No, hold it like this." Elladan smiled as his twin positioned the youngster's hands on the bow. Glorfindel has been busy of late and so the twins had taken over one of Glorfindel's more pleasant but no less important duties - the training of the next generation of warriors. Elrohir was teaching the archery class. Elrohir stepped back as the elfling made the shot. The arrow hit the red at four o clock, a vast improvement from the previous two attempts, which had only just scraped onto the white of the target. Elrohir was a natural teacher and the elflings adored him.
He wished he'd been around to teach Estel.
The little human flung down his small training bow and stomped off. "Estel wait!" Elladan called, rushing after him and stepping in front of the boy. The child glared at him. "No!" He yelled. "It doesn't work! I don't want to do it anymore!" He tried to move past the elf, but Elladan refused to let him. "Estel, you must not give up! We all go through this when we are learning. You must practice, only then will you improve!" He desperately wished Elrohir were there, his brother had been a far better teacher than he was. Estel's temper tantrum has come about after all three of his arrows had failed to hit the target. He young human looked ready to explode and Elladan lacked his brother's gentle patience. "What would Elrohir do?" He asked himself. He already knew the answer. His brother's voice sounded clearly in his memory. "Don't tell them what they're doing wrong, tell them what they're doing right. Do not underestimate the importance of the error, but do not make it seem like it the end of Arda!" Taking his brother's words to heart, Elladan knelt before Estel and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Estel, missing the target does not mean you are a bad archer. Your style is very good; we just need to work on your aim! So come, let's practice some more shall we?" His gentle tone was rewarded with a tentative nod from Estel. Smiling, Elladan took the small hand in his and led him back to the practice range. "Thank you brother."
*End Flashback*
Elladan smiled slightly at the memories and the memories of memories. Estel had become an accomplished archer since that almost disastrous day, He had continued to tutor him for some years after, one year getting help from Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, whom Estel had taken an instant liking to. "Perhaps I should visit Mirkwood." He thought idly as he walked closer to the mountains. It had been a long time since he'd last walked in the woodland realm, at least five centuries. The prince and his father had been good friends of his once, until the tragedy in his life had caused him to withdraw and distance himself from those who could further wound his heart. Estel was the first person that had made him feel alive again.
********************************
Strider groaned and pulled the thin blanket over his head. Calendil laughed. "Come now Strider! The sun is up, it is time to be away!" The ranger sat up and glared at his friend. "We have not ceased fighting for a single day these past two weeks. We have not had four hours rest. It is freezing cold. There is simply no good reason for you to be cheerful. So for the Valar's sake, shut up Calendil!" The only response he got was another laugh. Sighing, he sat up and began to ready himself for another gruelling day. As they got closer to the misty mountains, the chances of stumbling across orc lairs and patrols grew. As soon as they'd cleared this latest incursion, Estel vowed to take the whole lot of them to Rivendell, for some much needed rest and recuperation. That did not look like being soon though was he thought as his scout came running full out towards him, gasping for breath and managing a single word as he pointed north. "Orcs!"
"Here we go again." Strider thought grimly as he took in the sixty-strong orc patrol. They would have to kill at least four each to stand a chance of prevailing. He stood his ground with the others, his bow in his hand, an arrow ready to fly. Calendil was next to him, his bow also drawn and ready.
As the orcs came into sight, the rangers released a barrage of arrows. Several orcs fell, but many were wearing armour and the arrows did not penetrate. This battle was going to have to be hand-to-hand combat. As soon as the orcs were close enough, Strider drew his sword. His eyes narrowed as he selected a target. A moment later the orcs were amongst them and he was slicing and hacking at the creatures. Their armour was incredibly tough and while his elvish sword cleaved it easily, the others were having problems. Ducking a viscous swipe from an orcish blade, he sliced the beast across the stomach. Spinning round, he thrust his blade through the neck of an orc Calendil was struggling with. His sword sliced the armour there far easier than anywhere else. "Go for the neck!" He yelled to the rangers. "The armour is weaker!" Without stopping, he took the head off another nearby orc. From the corner of his eye he saw half a dozen orcs break off and head back the way they'd come from. Immediately, Estel knew that they were hiding something. He called out to Calendil. "I'm going after them! Stay here and finish this lot off!" Calendil nodded and fought on, not daring to speak lest he was distracted. Estel called to two rangers, bidding them follow him. Knowing Calendil and the others could handle the patrol now that they knew their weakness, Estel wasted no time in chasing the escaping orcs. The three humans were faster than the evil beasts and caught up with them before they reached their camp. Three fell to the ranger's arrows, their hideous shrieks filling the air. Strider tried to get another, but this orc was swifter than most and dodged the arrow. Lunging, he swung his sword outwards and by sheer luck, managed to sever the orc's right foot. It went down in a spray of black blood. Estel stepped up and plunged his sword into the orc's chest. "What are they hiding?" He wondered. That they didn't want the humans to get to their camp was obvious. He and the other two rangers charged the two remaining orcs. The ranger on his right hissed in pain as an orc knife sliced his arm open, but it was not a mortal wound and would heal, though it would require several stitches. The orcs fell swiftly to the ranger's blades and Estel and his companions finally entered the orc camp and saw what it was the orcs had not wanted them to find.
All the colour drained from Estel's face. He couldn't believe the sight that met his eyes. A limp figure hung from between the branches of two young trees. He had been badly beaten and whipped. Blood covered the pale body. "No." Estel shook his head in utter denial. "Please Elbereth no! Elladan!" Forcing back a sob he rushed to the limp form of his brother. With two swift strokes of his sword he'd cut the elf down and was cradling him in his arms. "Ai, Elladan." He moaned. "What happened?" He received no reply though, for the elf was unconscious, his breathing shallow and his eyes terrifyingly closed. Estel had long feared that something would befall his brother, knowing well the dangers of the wilds. Still, he had hoped that his brother's age and experience would serve to keep him safe. Now he felt as if his world was falling apart. The other two rangers stood slightly behind him, respectfully giving him some time with his brother. Eventually though, the ranger to his right laid a hand on his shoulder. "We cannot stay here. There may be more orcs about and your brother needs medical attention." Dumbly, Estel nodded. He could hardly think, the reality of the situation was too much. He walked back to the site of the battle, still holding the limp form in his arms. Calendil was assisting the other rangers in piling up the orc carcasses for burning. When Strider walked back holding the unconscious form of his brother, he rushed up. Horror grew within him as he recognised the elf. One look at Strider told him that the man was in no condition to resume command. He led the man away from the battle site and quickly started a small fire. "Strider. Listen to me." He said. He spoke firmly; trying to break the daze Estel was in. "He needs your help. You must treat him." He sighed when he received no response. "Strider! Do you want him to die?!" The terrible threat broke through and Estel stared at his friend in horror.
"Oh Valar! What am I to do?" Calendil gave him a reassuring smile. "You know what to do. Elladan trained you himself. So do it." Estel looked up, new confidence in his eyes. "Thank you." "You're welcome." Calendil replied and left to give Estel his privacy.
Estel quickly boiled the water in his flask. Crumbling some athelas into the water, he let the healing scent wash over him, soothing his aching heart and calming his mind for the task ahead. Ever so gently, he turned his brother over onto his stomach, revealing the many nasty lash marks. Folding a cloth into a square he dipped it into the herb-filled water before beginning to carefully clean the flaming wounds. As he ran the cloth over a particularly deep gash, a moan came from the prone figure. "I'm sorry Elladan." He whispered. "Just hold on, I'll be done soon." Another moan came from the elf, almost breaking Estel's heart. "I'm so sorry, I don't want to hurt you." He almost sobbed. It was killing him to see his brother in so much pain. When he was at last done cleaning all the back wounds, he shifted him in his arms so that he could start again on the front of the elf's battered torso.
Finally all the wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, a sleeping draught had been administered and Estel could at last relax. The wounds were thankfully not as bad as he had feared, though painful there was no poison and would heal quickly. Estel suspected he had not been held captive for very long, Elbereth be praised. He couldn't help the dark thoughts that crept into his mind; he wished he'd known which orc had done the whipping so he could have made him suffer more before he'd killed him. He hated orcs as much as Elladan and Elrond; orcs had killed his birthparents and destroyed what should have been his home. Only the grace of the Valar and the kindness of the elves had given him a life worth living.
Calendil walked up to where Estel sat, has hand resting lightly on this brother's chest. "How fares he?" He asked softly. Strider let out a long breath. "He is resting now. Thankfully there was no poison and he will recover." He looked up at his friend and Calendil could see traces of tears in the ranger's eyes. "Strider?" Estel took a deep, shuddering breath. "Ever since I was old enough to understand elven grief and the depth of Elladan's loss, I have wondered about his will to live. He said he stayed for his father and later for me, but I always suspected he still longed for death, even if he didn't actively seek it. When I saw him hanging there - I thought he'd finally given up and gone to find Elrohir in Mandos' Halls." He turned his gaze to the still form, now thankfully in a healing sleep, "I couldn't bear to lose him." Calendil smiled. "You won't. He's a survivor. Have faith in him." Estel ran his hand across the pale cheek. "I do. The Valar know I do."
*********************
Three days had passed since the attack. Two rangers had died in the battle; they had been buried the day before with as much dignity as possible given the current location. Estel grieved their passing, but thanked Iluvatar for sparing his brother. Calendil had teased him the day before, about the amount of tea he'd been making. "He'll be unconscious for a decade!" He'd joked. Estel shook his head. "No, just for a day to two, to let him heal without pain. He's suffered too much already."
Now though, the wounds had healed for the most part and Estel was just waiting for the tea to wear off. As soon as he was well enough to travel, they'd head to Rivendell, where their father could make sure there were no other side effects from the beatings, no hidden poisons or dark magic's.
A groan alerted him to the fact that his brother was coming round. Taking the pale hand in his he knelt beside him. "Elladan? Elladan, its Estel. Can you hear me? It's time to get up now!" There was another moan and then eyelashes fluttered open, revealing blurry grey eyes. Estel smiled. "Welcome back." "Thank you. I think." Was the slow reply as the elf attempted to sit. Estel moved forward and supported him. "Careful. You've been though a lot. Valar Elladan, I was so scared. Don't ever do that to me again!" Estel took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. I was just worried. Get some rest, when you're a bit stronger we'll head home ok?" The comment was rewarded with a warm smile. "Yes, I'd like to go home." Estel grinned. "Good. I'll go and get you something to eat!" He got up, but as he went to move away he was called back. "There's just one thing I think you should know Estel..." He turned. "Yes?" "I'm not Elladan."
END PART 3
*Grins* I'm so evil! Review please! Part four is allllll ready! ;)