Peaceful Ruin
Heaven bent to take my handAnd lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
to a long and painful fight
Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear
Though I've tried, I've fallen..
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so....
We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our back the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I've held so dear.
Though I've tried, I've fallen..
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so....
Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I'm lost to those I thought were friends
to everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarrassed
Pretend that they don't see
But it's one missed step
You'll slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed
--Sarah Mclachlan, "Fallen"
Chapter 1 – Fallen
There was a light rain coming down now as a storm crawled in over the forest. The overcast sky was gray and the clouds hung low and heavy. The water ran down the black wood of the dead trees in small streams forming muddy puddles below the great trunks. The ground was covered in rotten leaves and torn up grass, dead remnants of the past now thrown away and mixed up into nothing like the rest of the world.
Elrohir paused a moment absently gripping the dead rabbit tighter. With his other hand he brushed the wet, black tendrils of hair out of his eyes, noting as he did so that his hair had again grown long. He kept it short now, having long ago cut off his regal braids. He had ceased to deserve them. Not after what he had done, what he had allowed to be done.
The woods themselves were quiet, almost morbid as Elrohir made his way back to the once elven refuge buried in among the dead trees. It had been built all those years ago as a guardhouse, an early warning for Imladris. It was a simple building that sat on the edge of a ravine overlooking the river. It was nearly impossible to see for it was set into the earth and part of the surrounding trees. He entered through the door carved out of wood and made his way down soft, mold-covered steps to the basement.
The building had only two levels, the guard overlook and the lower level which Elrohir had converted into a cage. Strong metal bars ran from the ceiling into the floor splitting the room in half. He made no sound as he stood and beheld the creature that slept in the corner of the cage. The orc shuttered with each rise of his chest, his recent torture still giving him difficulty. Suddenly Elrohir slammed the body of the rabbit into the bars causing the orc to leap to its feet. The creature snarled and ripped the animal out of the elf's hand. He dug his broken jaw into the rabbit's haunch, snapping bones with his teeth and began to suck the blood out of it's veins.
Elrohir sat down, his back to the wall and watched the orc eat. He pulled out his knife and savagely began slashing at his hair. Large clumps fell to the floor as he mechanically rid himself of any remaining strands of length. The blade's handle was slick with the rain and his hand slipped cutting a gash across his face. The orc in the cage winced in unison with Elrohir and looked up for a moment from his dinner. The two locked eyes and for the briefest of moments Elrohir saw intelligence, saw understanding and even compassion there, then the moment was gone. The steely hate and viciousness flooded back into the orc's expression and he resumed his meal.
Elrohir leaded back against the cold stone of his prison and closed his eyes. Black despair resurfaced inside him as this unexpected disappointment. Elrohir shook his head slightly. He really should know by now but for some reason he still held hope. Hope, he scoffed. Hope did not exist in this place. He opened his eyes and studied the still gorging orc he held here. He swallowed hard. It wasn't hope he held still he just wanted his twin back.
The sun fell below the horizon as elf and orc eased themselves into another sleepless night. Elrohir noticed that his destroyed brother walked with a slight limp as he paced in his cage. "Does your leg hurt you?"
The orc, Elladan, faced his twin without really looking at him. He could not speak. He had not the time to learn the Black Speech and no orc could speak elvish so they regarding each other in a moody silence. Watching his brother suffer was quite truly beyond Elrohir's ability at this point having already lost him to the dark forces of Mordor.
Elladan didn't answer, he never did. Instead he just spared one last glance at his brother and wandered back into the corner of his cage. Elrohir's body slumped down, defeated and tired. He leaded his forehead against the bars, pressing back all his sorrow and fighting off his grief. To face that painful truth would be death and that was something he could never do, not while his brother needed him. Not while his brother still lived. They would never be parted. Their bond held them together for all time, for there is no limit to a brother's love.
He knelt there, letting the cold of the metal seep into his skin filling his heart with a steely resolve. It was the same promise he made to himself every night, every time he watched his brother struggling with the pain of his contorted body or trying desperately to fight his own nature. For as much as Elladan was orc, part of him still remembered. He couldn't express it, nor was it ever a conscious thought but he had never so much as touched Elrohir and he never would. In turn, Elrohir kept him safe, at all costs.
The first time had been the worst. That instant of realization that all elves now had become his enemy for when they first saw Elladan they had attacked without warning or question. That first time, on the slow, terrible journey back from Mordor, Elrohir had tried to protect his twin without hurting the elves. It had only taken seconds before he realized it wasn't possible. In that desperate moment he had made a choice, one the he could never come back from. After that, defending Elladan against this own people had gotten easier. Now it was a passing thought, a moment of regret crushed down by the dominate truth. Elladan must survive. Nothing else mattered.
So Elrohir lived with his choices and with his sins. He cut off his regal warrior braids in a type of penance. He barely ate, he didn't sleep. He lived only to serve Elladan for what else was worth living for in this world covered in darkness. His hope has vanished when they'd killed his father and taken his brother those two years ago. Now he was empty, defeated, wallowing in his own peaceful ruin.
Time passed by as the night grew longer until Elladan slept across from him, his eyes open and blank. Elrohir would watch him in his sleep most nights. It was the only time his eyes were not filled with hate and agony. If he concentrated hard enough he could tune out the twisted face, the torn hair, the cold cage until nothing remained by those vibrant eyes. It was in these moments when he could see his brother and remember how it had been before. He could see the last embers of what his brother was still burning in those deep eyes. Nothing was worth more to Elrohir now then these moments, the proof that all he had done and let be done, was justified. It was the nights that got him through the days.
********************************
The clouds had not cleared from yesterday's rainfall when Elrohir stepped out of his sanctuary. He checked to make sure the woods were still and empty before allowing Elladan out of his cage. Elladan raced forward, limping still but excited to be released. Elrohir followed behind him as his twin carelessly knocked into the blackened trucks of the dead trees in his need for destruction. It seemed that mutilation and destruction were the only things that truly brought Elladan joy anymore. So Elrohir followed, content to allow anything so long as his twin did not suffer.
They journeyed far through the forest until with a start, Elrohir noticed they had entered the gardens of Imladris. The once crystal white towers of the city still shown brightly as they had in his memory. They loomed deep and beautiful over head, shimmering lightly against the overcast sky. Elrohir exhaled deeply. How he missed his home, his past, back when everything made sense. Back when he was happy.
He wandered through the gardens that he had played in as a child, the same places he had shared with his twin in those days that seemed so long ago now. The place had once been the envy of all Middle Earth for there wasn't a more beautiful garden in all the world. The flowers that had bloomed here sported colors so rich and vibrant that they were almost blinding. Now the field was overgrown, untended and dark weeds flourished here having long ago killed the more delicate plants. His memory was flawless and he could see himself in the fields taking in the morning and reveling in it despite the dreary cloud coverage. He could still taste the sweet dew that used to cover the flowers, the dew that was now bitter and splattered across the weeds like blood after a battle. Those memories were from before. Before Sauron got the Ring, before the world ended and everyone and everything he had ever loved had been ripped away from him.
Unwillingly he pulled himself out of his memories for Elladan had raced into the palace now bent on some exciting new destruction. Elrohir jogged inside trying very hard to keep his mind focused. It was difficult to not remember every little prank and moment he had spent inside this walls. The memories were so thick they often slowed him down. He turned the corner and found himself in the library. Elladan was off to the side raging through the books, delighting in tearing out the pages with his teeth. Elrohir smiled lightly and climbed the stairs to the upper level. He leaned over the balcony rail, his eyes wandering through the paintings and inscriptions still fashioned on the walls. He turned slowly and made his way to the huge wall hanging at the crest of the stairs. It was a painting he had always liked. A visual representation of hope eternal, it was Isildur holding aloft the broken shaft of Narsil in powerful defiance of evil. Opposite the painting was the stone carving of a women and beneath her in her care still lay the shards of that fateful sword, all the was left of hope in this world.
His back to the statue, Elrohir studied the painting, studied the shimmering form of the ancient king of men at the moment of his last stand and felt something stir inside him. A strange desire the likes of which he had not felt in years. The courage of Isildur roused in him his own desperate bravery and so he did the only thing he could think to do. He closed his eyes, pressing his palms gently against the painting. 'Valar, hear me. Hear my prayer. Please, please find a way to bring us hope. If you have the power, please bring me hope.' Elrohir stood perfectly still for a moment, emotions flying through him in wild waves, pain, guilt, fear and above all else horrible grief, then they passed as always and apathy fell back upon him. He opened his eyes, not allowing disappointment to touch him and his gaze fell upon the stone statue which housed the shards of Narsil. He froze again.
The shards were gone. In their place lay a young human boy, no more than 16 summers old. He sat up slowly, blearily as if waking from a long sleep and gazed over at the elf. His eyes cleared suddenly and he broke into a grin. "Elrohir! What's going on?" The boy paused and looked around the library. "Why am I--" He tilted his head, his smile slowly vanishing. "What happened to your hair? Father will be so angry."
Elrohir took a cautious step towards the young human. "Who are you? How do you know my name?" His bafflement clear and present on his face.
The human laughed outright. "How do I know your name? Are you serious? Why don't you just tell me what Elladan did to your braids and then we can-"
Fear stabbed through Elrohir and he quickly cut off the human. "Tell me who you are! How do you know these things?" His voice was pitched high, frightened and sharp.
Suspicion crept into the human eyes. He studied Elrohir a moment. "Stop this, you're scaring me."
Elrohir leaned a bit closer trying to recognize the human's face, perhaps he had known him from before. That still didn't explain how he had gotten into this sanctuary unnoticed or why he was here at all. He was about to respond when from downstairs Elladan roared loudly and suddenly. The human jumped to his feet, fear flying across his face at the sight of the orc rambling his way up the stairs. Elrohir took a reluctant step back. Now he'd never know. He turned his head, not wanting to watch as Elladan screamed again and sprang forward.
The human leapt back, staggering on his own sluggish feet and fell hard onto his back. "Roh! Help me!" This frightened cry hit Elrohir like a tidal wave. His heart leapt into his throat and his breath shortened. Why this surge of fear now? He had never cared before when Elladan hunted. It was a fair enough victim, his own fault really for coming here in the first place. Still Elrohir could not shake the feeling that this was horribly wrong. He closed his eyes, fighting down his panic as Elladan still roaring with bloodlust reached the young human laying helpless on the floor.
