AN: Fresher's Flu attacks. Hence crappy everything in the last chapter and this one (grammar, punctuation, wording... Its no good, and i'm sorry) I can't write properly when i feel like shit. I'll prally come back and edit it all when i feel better :p Meanwhile, back to the Lemsip...
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"Mithrandir, our greetings. We have want to speak with you."
"So your message said, young sons of Elrond. Am I permitted to pass through your gates before we discuss this matter though?" Looking a little abashed at their forward behaviour, the twins led the wizard through the gates and into the Hall of Fire, deserted at this time of day.
"Now then, what can I do for..." The Istar paused, finally looking properly at the elves sat in front of him. "You look like you have had no sleep for all the weeks we have been parted. And what is this?" Catching at a lock of Elladan's hair, he pulled it aside to reveal a colourful bruise. "Have you been fighting again?"
"Calm, Mithrandir. This will take some time to explain." Elladan brushed the hand away.
"Explain then," the Maia demanded with raised eyebrow. "for I see signs of some unknown battle on your brother also, and would have an explanation."
"Legolas is not dead." Elrohir stated, watching his expression carefully. The wizard looked to Elladan, who simply nodded once. Then he started laughing, a chortle that seemed to echo throughout the hall, filled with glee. When he had calmed, the twins continued.
"He is quite ill, for a great darkness has come over him and we cannot reach him through it."
"Sauron's fall has not been enough to release him from the shadow." Elladan clarified.
"He attacks all that approach him, we are forced to tamper with his food to tend him."
"Father has been treating his hurts, but he does not stay still long enough for his treatments to do much good."
"And you wish my aid...?" Mithrandir attempted to get a word in edgeways. It went unnoticed.
"We had hoped for further progress before you saw him."
"We fear for him."
"We have done all we can think of."
"But now father says we must..." There was a choked silence, Elrohir unable to finish his sentence.
"Now, now." Gandalf soothed the distraught twins as they poured out their worries. "I am here now, and I will do what I can. But I can do nothing without first seeing him for myself."
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Few people, save those who had known him for many years, would see the distress concealed within the image of an elderly gentleman sat upon the stone bench in the courtyard, smoking his pipe. Elrond had known the wizard for nearly two millenia. That was more than enough to see the anguish in his face.
"You have seen him then." He spoke softly, so as to avoid disturbing the peace of dusk that was settling around them.
"I have."
"I have done what I can. I fear for my sons, should he be irretrievable."
"Do not give up your hope yet. I shall take the shadow from his mind tonight, and we shall see what happens next."
"You are able..."
"Ah, yes. And I would use this power I have been gifted before I am forced to return to those who bestowed it upon me."
"Do you think it will be enough?"
"What use is such power if it is not enough?" The old wizard sighed. "We shall see, my old friend. If it is not, then I shall join you in worrying for your sons."
"Will you permit me to sit with you while you do this?"
"Indeed I would insist, and the twins also, for I shall need your will for his return. My own will not be enough. Together we will draw the darkness from him."
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Elladan clung to the chilled hand nearest to him, as Elrohir mirrored him on the other side. Both heads were bowed in despair. The wizard was led in through the outer door, as though just woken - as indeed he had been - for he had slept long after his treatment of the orc's soul. Looking up at the wizard from the foot of the bed, Elrond could think of only one thing to ask.
"What went wrong?"
"Nothing. I had expected to find him awake and hale when I woke." The wizard was adamant.
"He is neither." Elrond stated.
"Something must have... I have miscalculated... and..." He frowned again. "Move, children of Elrond." He shoed them away, placing one hand on the still form's chest – stirred only by the gentle rise and fall of breath - and closing his eyes. "Ah." He murmured. "So that is your malady." He opened his eyes again, looking up at the three who watched him. "I have made a grievous error, but there is a simple solution."
"What was the error, to result in such... unresponsiveness?" Elrohir asked. Gandalf took a seat, settling as though there was much more of him than what was seen. Taking his pipe from one of the many pockets of his voluminous robe, but not lighting it at Elrond's glare, he paused before replying.
"To turn elven light into darkness, evil forces must first drain the strength of the elf and take all that they are from them. Then the elf is forced to draw on the shadow that is offered them, as one grasps at any stray piece of driftwood when drowning. I have taken the shadow from Legolas, but he has nothing to fill the space that this has left. I will siphon a little of my light into the void to fill it. Then we must hope that there is enough of Legolas left to take hold of the offering and make it his own."
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The Istar left the elf's room several hours later, pale-faced and drawn, and had wished the family luck before retiring to his room with a request not to be disturbed for at least a month. No one was quite sure whether he was joking or not.
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When the elf had awoken – for elf he was now, and orc no longer - the change in him was visible immediately. No longer was he the crude, harsh creature that he had been, nor was he unresponsive. Instead he cursed the twins as often as possible and shrunk away in fear from every other person that approached him. That his eyes had to be bound did not help matters, for his demand to remove the blindfold and prove their identities had to be met with refusal, and it did not inspire confidence in the returned elf. It seemed he thought himself no better off than he had been in Barad-dûr, and that was a thought that saddened the Rivendell Lord.
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Sitting once again in his little courtyard, Elrond did not hear Glorfindel's approach until his Seneschal was beside him, a hand on his shoulder.
"I have looked in on him again, and he has woken. If you are to see him, it should be soon."
"Elladan?"
"He has gone to seek some peace and quiet in the gardens. This is hurting him more than he would like to admit."
"He has always tried to be strong."
"This is testing his resolve. I will talk to him if you would like?"
"He will need as much support as he can be given, if you would...?"
"I will go now."
"My thanks, mellon-nin."
"Go tend to the spirits of the other two, we will look after the third." Elrond could only nod and, standing, move back into the house. It was only a few strides down the hallway to the room where Elrohir lay. His face was pale on the sheets and he did not stir as his father entered the room and took a seat at his side.
"I go to him tonight, my son, to see if he will answer to me. Have hope, for still there is something of Legolas in him, of that Mithrandir has assured us. The power he has given up to bring him back has not been used in vain." There was no answer from his son, and in truth he had not expected one, for Elrohir had offered no reaction to anything that had happened for near three days now, hiding away within himself at Legolas' continued refusal to accept him for who he was.
The Lord sighed and, laying a kiss on his son's forehead he moved for the door. He had promised Elladan that he would take a little time with Legolas today, for he had not had a chance to sit and talk with him and was hopeful that he would be able to reach him.
For his sons, he had to have hope.
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LadyJanelly : Thanks for the reviews! I'm no good at graphic, without losing the storyline. Graphic is good for one-shots, I find. shrugs
Still hoping i haven't lost half my audience by admitting there's gonna be no smut :( Oh well...