~Chapter 6 ~ Fear and Friction~

Elrond, Lord of Imladris, sat contentedly in his library chair with a book in his hands. It was mid-morning, and through the open windows the sun was shining in long beams of light across the stone floor. He had been at the book for a long while, and had nearly finished it when he had a strange feeling.

It was quiet at first, so unobtrusive that he had at first blamed it on boredom. He returned to the book, but the feeling grew stronger. Elrond finally closed the book.

In another chair on the other side of the room sat his younger twin son, Elrohir. He was randomly flipping through pages of a book, or it appeared that way to his father. He thought it was sadness that flicked through the elf's grey eyes as he touched each page.

Feeling eyes boring into his head, Elrohir looked up, "Yes Adar?"

Saying nothing at first, Elrond thought about what the feeling could be. His sons had been at odds lately. It was less noticed by him than by their mother, and it was she who had alerted him to their falling out. Acting with sisterly concern, Arwen had discovered that the cause was a woman.

This surprised Elrond at first. It was immature to fight over a woman, and even tragic for brothers to do so. Sighing, Elrond knew he had to let them sort it out. Even though it had been nearly forty years since some trollop had come and torn his sons apart...

"Adar?" Elrohir repeated.

Shaken out of his ranting, Elrond glanced at his book, "I think you might like this book."

Raising his brows in confusion, Elrohir kept unmindfully flipping through the pages, "Perhaps. I've read this one enough times to have it memorized."

Elrond suddenly realized what he was feeling. Fear. Focusing on the feeling, he enhanced it and searched through futures until he found it.

Celebrían!

She was traveling back from Lothlórien at that moment. With recent uprisings and attacks from orcs, he should have known to send a large escort for his beloved wife. He stood quickly and the book collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"Your mother will be home in ten days which means she must be to the Redhorn Pass," he said quickly, catching his son by surprise, "Where?"

His mind scanned the vague images as he tried to pinpoint the location from which he was sensing fear.

"Gather a group of willing riders and find your brother," he said again with darkness clouding his eyes, "Meet your mother as soon as possible. Make haste! Quickly!"

The book flew from his lap as he ran from the library. A few tense moments passed as Elrond tried to look further into his wife's future. There was no way his sons would reach their mother before she crossed Redhorn. It was there, he sensed, that she would find this fear. But he sighed in a bit of relief; he saw her in his arms again. Eyes downcast, he glanced at the blue cover of the book Elrohir had dropped: Lays of Beleriand.

~*~*~

Elladan had been leading a patrol along the south-eastern borders of Rivendell when his brother and a group of twelve armed and mounted elves galloped to their location.

"Nána is in danger, we must ride with haste and meet her before Redhorn Pass," he said quickly as he motioned forward a brown stallion.

Elladan didn't believe Elrohir at first, but it only took a second look into his eyes to know the truth.

Their mother was in grave danger.

Asking no question, Elladan leapt upon the horse Elrohir had brought. The fourteen mounted elves rode lightly along the familiar path. Their horses kept a strong gait, enough to travel some distance without the need to rest often. Elrohir had already calculated their ride to take less than half it would normally take on foot, only five days to Redhorn, and one, maybe two to make it over the mountainous trail.

"We should reach Redhorn in five days," Elrohir said to his brother, who rode beside him.

"When will Nána be there," he asked, all signs of their quarrel gone in the face of the possible loss of their mother.

"She is already there. Adar said to meet her as soon as possible," he answered worriedly, leaving the obvious conclusion if they did not meet the escort before they reached the Pass.

They rode on in silence. Hours had passed and the sun was setting, casting reddish light over the riders and the path ahead. The tree line was approaching and Elrohir knew it was time to rest for the night.

"We will halt at the edge of the trees," he said to the riders behind him.

Elladan cast him a sharp glance, "We should ride on."

"The horses need rest if they are to make this journey," he said, catching the dangerous look in his brother's eyes.

A few soldiers glanced at each other uncertainly. Who *was* the leader anyway? While most were more inclined to follow Elrohir, who had called them to this duty, some found Elladan to be the more adept leader.

"Little water will be found over the plains ahead," he added, knowing well that he was right.

Elladan raised his head proudly, "Then I will scout and watch for the night while you rest."

Riding off before Elrohir could respond to the insult, Elladan created a perimeter to their night camp. He would do everything in his power to push the group hard. He growled in frustration.

'Why would he stop like this? Nána is in danger,' he thought, 'Damn the horses. I'll go on foot if I have to.'



The sun set and the stars wheeled overhead as Elladan surveyed the grassy mounds that began after the trees ended. It was open and they would be vulnerable to attack while on it, but on the other hand, they would long know of any possible threat too.

He kicked a rock across the ground and he heard his horse whinny. Of all the places to camp between Rivendell and the Caradhras, this was the best location.

Elladan sighed. The bitter exchanges with Elrohir had almost become second hand in the forty years since they had last seen Silluina. The elder had had one last talk with the woman from the Grey Havens, and it was barely civil. Everyone was angry with everyone.

It wasn't that Elladan was still bitter; he was simply too proud to let it all go. Yet, for all the injustices the brothers had dealt and suffered, it was high time for them to become brothers again.

Shaking his head, he focused on other matters at hand, 'I will resolve this after Nána is safe.'

Relaxing against the tree he lean on, Elladan softly hummed soothing melodies as the night passed.

~*~*~

The group was up and on the trail again before the sun rose. Light was blossoming over the craggy mountains and the chill night air was slowly warming.

Elrohir still rode as the lead, but Elladan was shortly behind him. Their argument the previous night had been witnessed by every elf in the party, and Elrohir knew that some had doubts about just who was in charge.

'Can't he put aside his anger for a few weeks? For the sake of our mother,' he frowned deeply.

Little was discussed among the band during the ride, and the night camps were even more quiet. The tension was tangible among them, both from general discord from their leaders and from anticipation of coming battles.

The path through the Redhorn Pass was perilous in places, with some cliffs and a sheer stone valley that stretched nearly a mile long. An ambush could easily be set in one of those places; their patrol, and possibly their mother, could be cut to pieces with little warning.

Elrohir knelt at the top of a knoll and surveyed the surrounding plains. Mountains loomed in the east, and using his elven sight, he could barely see the mountain pass. He debated sending a scout, which was a common tactic for parties both large and small.

"I do not recommend sending scouts," came a familiar voice.

Elladan knelt beside him, speaking low so that no others could hear. The starlight gave little illumination, but Elrohir could see his brother clearly. Obviously, the elder had been perusing the same line of thought. Likely because it was about this time that the scouts were sent.

Sighing in relief at Elladan's agreeable tone, Elrohir nodded, "It may be more of a hindrance in the long run, if one does not return."

The elder gave a nod and left for his sleeping roll. Elrohir leaned back on his own roll. It was short but diplomatic, perhaps the most civil since Silluina had stolen both of their hearts.

His brows furrowed at the thought of the beautiful maiden. He thought of her every day, her laugh, her smile, her blue eyes. How painful it was that he could never have her so long as his brother loved her as well.

Though he had to admit, the feelings had faded somewhat. Perhaps because of the loss he suffered in the relationship with his brother. Shaking his head lightly, Elrohir didn't even know if Elladan still even liked the woman. She had, after all, spurned him and gone for his brother.

'Women are nothing but trouble,' he finally thought.

It was strange to him how much he had changed his thinking in so short of a time. Rolling on his side, Elrohir fell into a sleep full of dreams of blue and gold.