Disclaimer: I'd love to own it all. But I don't. And I don't make money. So don't sue.
A/N: I have made a lot of assumption when it comes to the ability of elves to heal. I have assumed that elves can recover from injuries that would most likely kill mortals, if they were cared for properly, and I have assumed that an elf could survive minor damage to the lungs. I am now including the status of anything and everything I am working on in my profile, so if the chapter seems to be lost somewhere, check there. I will tell you if I'm just suffering writer's block, or over-inspiration (That's where I write a new story a day), or the chapter's freakishly long and I'm taking an eternity to copy it, or if my beta's feeling lazy . . . She doesn't like this one . . . It took her only a day to get to beta'ing "Too Late" . . . Unlike the last chapter of this . . . Speaking of said beta! A big thanks to Michelle (Insane Vampiress). And thanks to all of you who reviewed! You guys inspire me so much!
crazy-haldir-fancier: I know she's horrible, I know. Yes, the amazing Elrohir is in trouble, but I have very helpfully told you what happens in one very long chapter. Eeek! Cheating on Haldir? Run! Run!
Liz: I'm glad you decided to review. Well, you can persuade me, but my muses have other ideas. This was supposed to be a really short chapter. . .Well, this chapter tells the tale!
Silvertongue: I am very glad you like it, and very happy that you think it is good!
Tinuviel: It's great to have a new reader! I'm glad you liked the descriptions! I knew those muses were good for something besides making me squirm at my own writing. . .Hehe, yes, the death scene. That was Amarth's doing. That muse of mine works more than all of the other ones combined. . .
Misticheero: You're evil too! High five! Yeah, beating up your favorites is just too much fun! Here is the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! Glad you think this rocks! Psst, the biggest twin angst will come at about chapter ten. . .
WildBlackWolf and Viva: Time to find out and see!
Empath89: Well, you'll find out more about why she is murderous soon. . .Sorta soon. . .I'm glad you are enjoying this, and here is the next chapter
Chapter 7: All Through the Night
The moment Elrohir's plummeting form hit the soft earth, the hoard of goblins ran into the woods. A soft moan escaped the lips of Elrond's youngest son and two worried elves rushed to his side.
"That is no yrch arrow." Legolas immediately spat. Instead of the pure black monstrosities glamhoth used the arrow was a deep emerald, only the feathers and point were raven. (orcs)
"True, 'tis no arrow of yrch. What is it, mellon? I shall kill it with my bare hands." Elladan was eerily calm, like the eye of a violent storm. (orcs)(friend)
Legolas knew he would hate to be at the receiving end of that rage when it struck.
A glance was exchanged and the Prince of Mirkwood grabbed a firm hold on the fallen Elf's shoulders, holding him to the earth. The raven haired Noldo's slender hands flew to the shaft of the arrow that produted from the back of the form so identical to his own. Bright eyes, sliver and blue, met and without further action the elder twin pulled.
A cry ripped through the valley as the arrow was torn from Elrohir's flesh. Then, consciousness was lost to him once more.
Elrond's eldest hoisted his unconscious, mirror image into the air, Legolas took the emerald arrow from the ground, and side by side the two walked to the camp battle had driven them from, silently. The graceful Elf's limp form was gently deposited on a previously unrolled sleeping mat, his tunic carefully cut away.
Elladan ran his hands through his brother's raven hair as his companion applied antiseptic and cleansed the wound. He stared desolately as he gently applied a salve to the injury. Blue eyes locked with his before strong arms lifted the fallen Elf into the air. Slender hands grasped a roll of bandages, which he tightly wound around his brother's chest.
Finally, the golden haired prince spoke, "That shan't be enough. It pierced his rib cage. Eru only knows how much damage it did. We must hurry."
Elladan replied with a hollow glance, his silver eyes speaking volumes. "Carry him. I know if I do, I shall fall."
"I shall do as you bid me mellon-nin." Muscular arms pulled the limp form of the raven haired twin to his chest, carefully avoiding his injuries. (my friend)
The reflection of the bleeding form in the golden elf's arms fell silent and began to walk. It seemed that the pain his twin felt had ben cast upon him ten-fold. In body, heart, mind, and soul.
No laughter cheered the passage through the woods. Trees whispered words of comfort to the pitiful triage, but none helped. They went on, like mourning angels in the moonlight. And fiery tears shone in the eyes of the eldest young lord of Imladris.
The emerald leaves rustled softly as cold wind began to chillingly rush through the forest, and tearful silver eyes rose to meet previously un-noticed storm clouds. 'Ai, Elbereth. All we need now is rain.' He miserably thought, and soft words unwillingly passed his lips, "Ely can't handle a storm . . . "
The near silent whisper was not lost on the Mirkwood Prince. "Ai, Ell. He is strong. And we shall protect him, Ely will make it!" Sapphire eyes shifted to the slender form cradled in his arms, "You're not leaving us, Ely," he proclaimed, "You are not." And then the rain came pouring down. Legolas struggled to shield a battered body with his own and keep moving at the same time. He would not let Elrohir die.
The canopy of leaves filtered some of the heavy rain out, but leaves filled with water would tip, and no canopy is solid. The limp form the golden Elf carried grew wetter by the moment. Elladan watched helplessly as the rain battered his twin's unconscious form. The Prince of Mirkwood shielded him, fighting to take each blow for himself, but found little success. And all he could do was watch, tears mingling with the rain on his face.
The sympathetic trees did their best to protect the trio. They looked so pitiful. Long, wet hair plastered to their necks and backs, clothes sticking to soaking flesh. The Elves were so like a funeral precession. Solemnly gliding and glowing in the rain. The bleeding form in the arms of one, shivered in pain. It was hard not to commiserate.
A steady pace through the rain wore the night away. The fair beings were exhausted by battle and trek alike, yet they kept walking as dawn cut through clouds and darkness. The steady drumbeat of the rain began to calm, and then subsided. The forest was plunged into a ghostly calm, water dripped from the boughs of the tress above and droplets of rain shone with the silver light of morn. Newly cleansed earth was soft and wet. The aftermath of a storm washed over the wood.
"We shall arrive within the hour," Elladan rasped, soft voice breaking through an eerie silence. "Is he, is Ely, alright?" he shakily voiced.
"He hangs on, mellon, he clings to life." The fair prince replied. Once more, he gazed at the trembling figure in his arms. Elrohir was so weak, so vulnerable, a poor semblance of the powerful being he was. It hurt to see him such. Blood had long ago soaked through the bandages that covered his wound and the tunic that did little good at protecting delicate skin from the cold. Pain was chiseled on every inch of a beautiful, ageless face. How hard to see him such. (friend)
Mighty oaks and redwoods gave way to slim birches and saplings as they neared forest's edge. A few mounted guards met them, eyes wide with shock. The strong hands of a warrior received Elrohir's limp form and the horse he rode broke into a fierce gallop. Someone draped a dry cloak over the Mirkwood Prince's soaking form and offered him a mount. Legolas could feel eyes on him and turned to see Elladan hollowly staring. His friend had been given a horse and wrapped in a warm garment as well. The golden Elf reassured his friend with a warm glance and rode on ahead, emerald arrow firmly clenched in slender hands.
A slow, short ride took them into the heart of Imladris. As soon as two soaked, exhausted Elves dismounted, they raced for the healing wing. Worried eyes bored into the stern figure that greeted them at the door.
"Is Elrohir alright, Adar?" A worried Noldo demanded.
The blue eyes of his Sinda friend repeated the question.
"You shall see him when you bathe, change, eat, drink, and preferably rest. You should be in a presentable state." The stern healer simply replied, silver eyes not belying the battle within.
"But what if something happens before!" Elladan argued.
"I guarantee he will be alive when you return," Elrond cooly stated, though it took great effort to deny his son the privilege of seeing his twin. Suddenly, keen eyes spotted the bloody emerald object in the golden haired Elf's fidgeting hands. "Legolas, what is that?"
"The arrow." The Prince of Mirkwood simply replied.
Something hollow in the young prince's eyes scared the Peredhil lord. He understood that the fair Elf worried for his sons (Elrohir's injury and Elladan's apparent breakdown). But there was something more. "Are you alright, Legolas?" The Lord of Imladris gently asked the Elf that had become something of a son to him.
"I'm fine-" The Sinda stuttered, "-'Tis just-" He broke off, "-I did not wish to hunt anything but the killer. But something compelled me to say yes. Like I had no control." Pale blue eyes filled with yet more sorrow.
Elrond's eyes darkened. He pushed the thoughts out of the way for the time being. "You should examine the arrow later." He just stated. "Mayhap you shall find a clue. Your eyes have ever been especially sharp, even for our kin."
The two Elves walked off shoulder to shoulder, knowing they would not be admitted, and that any amount of arguing would simply keep Elrond from the side of his youngest son longer. Misery seemed to seep from each pore of the graceful duo, who had again resumed the guise of fallen angels mourning, but they walked on. For the good of their brother, by blood and by soul, they walked on.
A slender figure emerged from the room which they had been forbidden to enter, her golden hair pulled neatly from her attractive face. "Heru-nin, I see you have declined the true reason for which they are kept from your younger's side." (My Lord)
"I could not have them worry more, Melime. And besides, it would only give me more to worry about. I have seen to it that a sleeping draught shall find its way into their drinks. It will keep them out of the way as I operate." He replied with a sigh.
"I know, Heru, it is far too risky as is. His lung was damaged, was it not?" She gently prodded.
"I am afraid so, not too severely, but enough."
Warm water soothed an exhausted body, though worry still wracked the foggy mind. Wet golden hair drifted on the soapy water as slender hands lathered still more soap over dirt-blackened skin. It felt as though the rain had carried with it dirt, soaking his graceful form in grime, not water. Allowing himself no time to enjoy the bath, he clambered out of the marble tub and wrapped himself in a towel. Legolas dried long hair and dressed, returning braids to still soggy locks.
Meanwhile, a raven haired Elf allowed the warmth to sink into an elegant body. Heated water lapped over his tired form, soothing tense muscles, yet lacking the ability to soothe a tense mind. He did not allow himself relaxation. A foggy mind still clung to the sight of his brother's fallen form. And he did not bathe long. Elladan let the steam wash over him for a minimal amount of time, allowing himself only to caress his slender form with a bar of soap and wash the suds away, taking with them all the dirt. He dried long, dark hair and dressed. Hands darted to wet raven tresses and wove the familiar and intricate pattern of braids. Then Elladan went to wait for his golden haired friend.
Legolas left his room to find the mournful Noldo awaiting him. The two walked to the dining hall in awkward silence. The air seemed stretched thin, and pain reflected between two erethreal beings, yet comfort was found.
The eldest son of Lord Elrond had not realized how famished he was. Forgetting grace and manners, he shoveled well-cooked food into an eager mouth. The savory dish before him seemed to calm him, and Elladan became certain it was drugged.
Starving, the Prince of Mirkwood also piled tasty morsels past rosy lips. 'When one is worried about someone,' he thought, 'they do not notice what ails them.'
The servers waited until the two Elves had finished eating, then they brought out ornate goblets of wine. The beautiful, welded-gold glasses were set before the Noldo and the Sinda with a flourish.
The two friends drank eagerly, and suddenly, the room began to swirl around the weary beings. Silver and sapphire eyes locked in a knowing glance. 'How many times can one Elf be drugged in one household?' The Prince of Mirkwood thought as darkness took them.
Two guards came forth. One of them took the golden haired Sinda in powerful arms, and another lifted the raven haired Elf into the air. The forced sleep upon them, they were carried to their chambers and deposited on feather beds.
One of the guards walked mechanically down the hallway. Stopping at a door, he knocked rhythmically three tunes, paused, and knocked two times more. The door swung open a crack and silver eyes peered through.
"They sleep, Heru-nin." My Lord
"Excellent. I could not have them worry more."
"How does the Young Lord fare? If I may be as bold as to ask."
"Elrohir is strong. He should pull through. I shall have finished by the time they wake."
The warrior bowed his head and walked away.
For hours, Elladan tossed in a fitful sleep. Beads of sweat formed on a dark brow as nightmares he could not escape tortured him. Silver eyes remained wide open, the horrors he saw mirroring in their glassy surface.
"Elrohir!" He screamed, running through the forest, but his twin was nowhere to be found. The raven haired Elf felt empty and incomplete, like half of him had been cut away. "Ely! Please! Where are you!"
A horrible laughter rang through the woods. Melodic and beautiful, yet full of evil. Sweet and bell like, yet filled with dark intent.
"Ell! Help me!" His twin's voice rang through the trees. "Help!"
Long legs propelled faster as the Noldo raced towards his brother's cries. After seconds of frantic sprinting, a gasp escaped parted lips. A cloaked figure stood over Elrohir, loaded bow pointed at his heart.
The raven haired Elf failed to stifle a cry of horror, "Ely! No!"
Then the creature let go of the string. . .And vanished.
Elladan dove to his brother's side. Lifeless eyes stared up at him. "No! Ely! No!" He cuddled the still-bleeding form. So lost was he in the sea of grief, that he did not see the shadow creep behind him. Then all went black.
A golden head thrashed violently on silken pillows. Blue eyes stared out, shock filling the deep twin pools. Once again, he found himself in a web of nightmares. But now, he couldn't wake.
Water dripped from the ceiling of the dank cave they seemed to have gotten lost in. Legolas would never admit it, but he was scared. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas had set out with the Lord Glorfindel. The mighty Balrog slayer was far more than an additional skilled warrior in hostile land, but a well loved companion. Where was he now? There were too many tunnels. The Prince of Mirkwood looked over at Elladan, or rather tried. The pitch black cavern allowed him to see nothing.
"Legolas? Ely, Glor, where are they?" The graceful Elf asked.
"They probably just took a different passage." The golden prince bantered, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
"That's what probably happened, right." Elrond's eldest uttered nervously, trying to convince himself that what he said was true.
Suddenly, a choked sob tore through the dark expanse of the cave, followed by a hypnotically melodic female voice. "There, there. Shush. I'll make all the pain go away."
A silvery male tone sounded, pleading, "No! Please! Just let us go!"
"He's been good," the misty voice simply replied, "Let him have his reward." The sickening sound of a knife tearing bone was heard, then screams of pain. Then all fell silent, and only the soft sobs of agony - mental and physical - could be heard.
The sounds seemed to come from everywhere at once. The pained sobs continued, and a now rasping voice begged for un-granted death.
Elladan's grey eyes were wide with shock. Tears began to flood his face. 'The crying - the one we first heard - It was Elrohir."
Legolas grabbed his friend's arm and in the direction from whence the pained sobs now clearly came. The sight they came upon was forever branded upon his immortal soul.
The chamber they had entered was lit by many torches, and a chain hung from each square foot of the ceiling. And four of the chains suspended the mutilated bodies of their friends. Elrohir was gone. His tattered form moved not. But Glorfindel's shattered body shook with pain and sobbed in agony.
"Please. . ." He whimpered, "End it. Make the pain stop." The defeated Balrog Slaver gasped for air. "Then Legolas, save Elladan the pain of fading." Glorfindel instructed carefully and painfully, "And then - save yourself the pain of losing them. And the agony of getting caught."
"Mellon-nin, are you sure?" the Prince of Mirkwood gasped.
"Send me to Mandos once more. The Valar shall not punish you for ending our agony." Blue eyes begged for a release.
"Mellon. . ." The golden haired prince replied, unsheathing his knife. "Good-bye." Taking a deep breath, he plunged cold metal into the heart of the Golden Lord. Taking the bloody knife, he wiped it on his cloak.
Silent strides carried him to his grieving friend's side. Elladan still stared relentlessly at his twin's mangled body. "Ell?"
The Noldo did not reply.
The Prince of Mirkwood embraced the broken Elf. "Mellon. . .Are you still with us?"
"He doesn't even look like me anymore. Half of me has been violently torn away." He hollowly voiced.
"You shan't be torn long, mellon-nin. I shall make you whole again."
"Please take the pain away."
"I shall. See you in Mandos, Ell." With that, the knife ended a broken life.
Cradling his friend's body, he cleaned the metal. Setting Elladan's lifeless form elegantly down, he removed his cloak and folded graceful hands on his chest. The tip of his knife picked the locks that held two tortured forms to the ceiling. Using his cloak, he covered Glorfindel's limp form. Elladan's shielded Elrohir from visibility.
Then Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion, Crown Prince of Mirkwood, lay down next to a row of three deceased Elves and thrust a faithful knife into his bosom. Thus did his soul flee to Mandos.
The effects of the sleeping potion began to wear off into light dreamless sleep. Nightmares ended, leaving two Elves to fitfully sleep. Soon forced slumber was ended and they woke, minds on the shadowy figure that had danced bloodily through their dreams.
Legolas woke first, panting in the throes of a hellish nightmare. He frowned at his now disheveled appearance, muttering something about having to bathe constantly to maintain his dignity instead of staying with his injured friend. Taking the smallest amount of time possible to make himself presentable, the golden haired Elf left the chamber to find the brooding Noldo waiting outside his own door once more.
"Pleasant dreams?" Elrond's eldest asked gloomily.
"Simply lovely. I killed you." His fair haired companion bleakly replied. "And Glorfindel. And me."
"Was it to spare us pain of some sort?" The raven haired Elf chided, raising an eyebrow.
"I. . .Yes. You, to spare you losing Elrohir. Glorfindel, to put him out of his misery. Me, to keep me from feeling the guilt. " Legolas sighed.
"You didn't mention killing Ely. And what misery? Who hurt them?" the older twin mused.
"She did. The things She did to them in mere minutes were unspeakable. The results of weeks and weeks of torture," whispered the Prince of Mirkwood.
"So you saw The Cloaked Lady too?" Elladan murmured.
The fair Elf nodded, "Not so much saw though, as heard. . .Her voice - It was the mistiest and most mysterious thing I've ever heard."
"Same with the way she looked. Mist ridden, mysterious, beautiful. And pure evil," the Noldo recalled.
Now the two Elves stood in front of a different door - One they both feared to open. A glance was exchanged and Legolas slowly stepped forward and slowly twisted the knob.
Inside, Lord Elrond sat, staring at the prone form on the bed.
"Is he. . ..?" his son asked.
"He is alive ion-nin," the masterful healer replied. "But - His left lung was damaged. His breathing needs to be monitored constantly." (My son)
"Aiya. . ." the golden haired Elf murmured, "Will he make it?"
"He should," the Lord of Imladris stated. "But there is always a chance. . ."
Elladan set himself on a chair near the bed, "I'll watch you all night long, Ely. All night long."
TBC
A/N: Sooo. . .Did you like? No evil cliffie! Do review. Though this took a long time, it is up, and I have started the next chapter, which will be up much, much faster. I really need to hear your thoughts, ideas, predictions, etc. . .So please submit them at that little button. Thanks to all of you who reviewed last chapter! You were a huge inspiration!