Title: Elusive Dreams (4/?)
Author: Pickle Pixie
E-Mail: picklepixie83@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Elrohir can't sleep …
Disclaimer: All the characters you recognise belong to JRR Tolkein, God and author extraordinaire. I am making no money from this and mean no infringement upon his works.
~*~
Surrreal: Thanks for the support. No, I won't give up. And you're so right, there are way too few twin fics out there.
Jooubachi: Mwuh! You know what I mean.
Lily Frost: I love those four lil' guys! And I can't help the cliffies, it's in the blood! Thanks for the feedback, I really appreciate it! And looking at your bio, praise from you is something to be proud of! Thanks again!
RainyDayz: I made you cry? Cool! Er, I mean, sorry! Didn't mean to! And thank you for the feedback! I'm glad you enjoy my writing. I didn't realise it would touch anyone like that. I hope the rest won't disappoint you.
Iilaiia: I rock? Well, thank you very much *pix takes a bow*. But that's going a bit far! The rest of the story might suck! But thank you so much for your comments, I really appreciate it. And I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. It won't seem to come out right though, it's getting on my nerves! But I hope you continue to enjoy it. The twins' bond is one of my favourite things about LOTR fan fiction.
TearFull: Yup, there will be more Legolas! There has to be more Legolas. I love him too much to leave him out! But you'll have to be patient, ok?
Kia: Please watch those fingernails, you're gonna need them!
And big thanks as well to Thoronnar, Araiyan, Lady, Unadrieniel, Jenny, slightly-psychotic (cool name, me likey), Mav, littlesaiyangairl and Daydream.
Please let me know what you think of this part!
~*~
The trees near trembled in their foreboding. The apprehension they exuded had saturated his being. Suddenly the material of his tunic was constricting, and the undershirt clung to his clammy skin. He did not understand the changes in his body. An Elf should never struggle to take a deep breath, nor should he taste the salt of sweat on his upper lip. Neither should he ever wish to be free of the trees.
The boughs he had loved since childhood were now dark and close. They loomed over him, swathing the once sun drenched glade in shadow. His horse skittered beneath him, ears pressed flat to its neck. It nickered softly in it's distress. For all his skill and affinity with his mount, he could not calm the creature. Nor could he distinguish the warning the trees were all but screaming at him now.
He turned to his companion, and looking upon him was as if he were staring into a mirror. He saw the expression on his friend's face and recognised it as the very same emotion that was causing such discord within his own body. The other Elf was afraid. It was an emotion so alien to him that he had not recognised it until he was faced with it in the flesh. His friend was afraid. He was afraid. He returned his gaze to the trees. And he heard what they had been striving to tell him.
Run . . .
But he could not. He would not run. What had he to fear in these woods? The valley and forests surrounding Rivendell and the Bruinen had been free of wargs for months. Glorfindel and the young lords' had seen to that. It could not be orcs, for Anor still shone overhead, though she seemed to have forsaken the glade in which they stood.
The Elf unconsciously gripped the hilt of his knife, feeling his hand slide on the metal beneath his fingers. The perspiration covered his entire body it seemed, and his palms burned and throbbed.
Run, run!
"`Nadeloth, we should leave. The trees do not wish us to stay! We must heed their warning! Saes!"
Nuquernadeloth turned to his companion, and the dread on his face almost convinced him to concede to the other Elf's wishes. But he could not run! His pride would not allow it! They were no Elflings scared by tales of nameless demons from siblings who wished to be rid of them. He would not flee from an evil that daren't even show itself. No, he would stand his ground. And he would smite any fiend that threatened Rivendell.
"Nay Vinyasoron. We will face this threat together." Nuquernadeloth looked again to his friend, who's bow was already drawn and notched. He smirked at Vinyasoron's submission. His friend knew him too well to expect a retreat. "If there is danger to Imladris we must identify it so as to inform Lord Glorfindel, and we must destroy it if it is within out power to do so."
A rustle of leaves and the snap of a twig brought them back to their guard. Vinyasoron pulled his bowstring taut, sending a tremor through the fine fibres. Nuquernadeloth's long knife sang as it was pulled from its sheath. As one the Elven warriors turned their mounts to face their foe.
The trees were silent.
Slowly Vinyasoron loosened his fingers upon his bowstring, and Nuquernadeloth let his knife lower slightly. They regarded the form before them with unashamed suspicion.
In the glade with them stood two Elves they did not recognise. The pair were clad in a deep brown, and their hair was of a dark silver. It fell down their backs in warrior's braids, much as their own did. Nuquernadeloth's first impression was that the Elves' must be of Mirkwood, perhaps delivering a message to reach Prince Legolas upon his return from the wilds. But the shades of their garb were too rich for the task of a messenger, and nowhere did they bear the insignia of Thranduil's realm. Nor could Nuquernadeloth see any horses. It was as if they had simply appeared out of thin air. The warrior's of Thranduil's guard knew better than any other's how dangerous it is to be caught in the open, or to enter an Elven territory unannounced. Something was wrong.
"Identify yourselves. You are trespassing in the lands of Lord Elrond Peredhil."
The pair regarded each other in amusement they did not even attempt to conceal. The taller of the two fixed Nuquernadeloth with a withering glare.
"Really? We did not realise that the Half-Breed was now claiming Lordship over anything! My, hasn't he done well for himself!"
"Hold your tongue, stranger. I will not endure my lord spoken of with such contempt. You dishonour him with your poisonous words." Vinyasoron's bowstring was once again pulled taut, an arrow poised to fly.
"Why, the Elf brat is a feisty one. No one ever taught you to respect your Elders, did they youngling? Well, let us see if we can not remedy that."
The strangers' advanced, but Vinyasoron did not loose his bow. Nor did Nuquernadeloth wield his knife. They merely drowned in dark, empty voids where hope could never again reach them.
And the trees wept.
~*~
Time stood still for the four Elves hovering around the bed. Since Elrohir's eyes had flickered open, only to devastatingly shut again, Elrond had renewed his efforts to wake his son. It took all his patience not to shake the young elf in his urgency. For now Elrohir's form convulsed, and sobs caught in his throat. Tears slid down his cheeks from beneath eyelids now screwed shut in pain.
Elladan was thrown back from the bed by an invisible force as Elrohir's body suddenly went rigid. He hit the wall with a sickening crack and slid to the floor. But all eyes remained on Elrohir. His back was arching up from the bed, moth open in a silent scream. Second's seemed hours, and Elrond watched in helpless horror as a word finally escaped his child's lips.
"Ada!"
As quickly as it had happened the seizure stopped and Elrohir dropped back to the mattress. Elladan regained his senses and scrambled gracelessly back to his twins' side, taking Elrohir's hand in his.
"Ada, it is warm!" He exclaimed. "`Ro's hand is warm!"
Legolas knelt next to Elladan and felt the back of Elrohir's hand for himself. He felt a smile spread across his face as the warmth from his friend's skin seeped into his own. He called to him then quietly. "Elrohir? Can you hear me?"
The younger twin's brow twitched, and he took a deep breath. "`glas?"
"Aye my friend! I am here!"
Elrond could once again feel his heart hammering within his breast. For one horrific instant, he was sure he had lost his son. He came back to himself then, and again began to coax his child back to wakefulness.
"Slowly Elrohir, slowly. That's right child, open your eyes. Come back to the light, ion nin. There is nothing to fear."
~*~
Elrohir stumbled. He grunted as he fell to his knees. The impact jarred his whole body, and he winced as his hands scraped along the forest floor. He felt the blood trickle down over his wrists from between the flaps of skin on his torn palms. His breath came in gasps as he fought to fill his burning lungs. He had been running for so long! His legs shook beneath him as he pushed himself back to his feet.
The Elf was long passed his endurance. Though Elrohir knew this all too well, it did not matter. He must run. He would run or he would find himself in Mandos' Halls. He still could not see what hunted him. His Elvish sight failed him in this gloom, and the trees around him were unfamiliar. He knew he could not be far from Rivendell, but he did not recognise the trail he followed. The sounds that echoed in his ears were mocking.
But Elrohir kept running. The shadow was coming for him! It inched closer to him with every stride he took. Casting his glance behind him, he saw a figure leap into the branches above him. He skidded to a halt, almost stumbling again. If it was in the trees, he had no hope of out running it. He must fight. How he wished he could feel Elladan's back against his own now.
Elrohir.
That was his Ada! His father was there! Praise the Valar, he would be safe now. If he reached his father, the Elf lord's light would surround him and this shadow would not claim him. Elrohir spun on his heels, eyes searching desperately for any sign of his father.
There! There was a light, but it was only a pinprick in the darkness. He began his furious pace again. Blood pounded in his ears, his heart battered his ribs. He tried to breathe only to find he could not force the air passed his throat. He choked as he stretched forward an arm quivering in exertion to touch the light.
The intensity of the light before him forced Elrohir's eyes to a squint. As his fingers brushed the shimmer before him, he saw the outline his father and a glow that could only be Legolas watching at him. He could feel his brothers' somewhere near. He knew that if he could just open his eyes he would be safe.
It was in that moment, when Elrohir was sure he had made it, he felt a bitter frost close around his heart. He felt it dragging him away from the light. Elrohir's tattered hands clawed at the dirt in one final attempt to reach his family. The ice advanced again, and he felt his body spasm in the shock. It could not end like this!
In his last act of defiance, the son of Elrond threw his body forward and found his voice.
"Ada!"
~*~
Awareness was finally stealing back upon Elrohir. He could hear his father's soothing voice. A hand was holding his, and he was sure he had heard voices calling him.
Elrohir took a deep breath to feed his burning lungs. The sweet scent of athelas filled his being and he knew he was safe. He was almost afraid to believe it. How long had he been running? He had to know. Elrohir tried to call out to the last voice he recognised.
"`glas?" He didn't recognise his own voice. The word came out as a whisper, and he could barely form his friend's name.
"Slowly Elrohir, slowly. That's right child, open your eyes. Come back to the light, ion nin. There is nothing to fear."
"Ada?" The apprehension in Elladan's voice drew Elrond's attention to his eldest son. "His … his hands. Look at his hands!"
Elladan was wincing at the sight of blood on his own palm where he had held his twin's hand. Bright red blood was slowly beginning to drop onto the white sheets below. But the Elven lord did not have time to ponder the cause of Elrohir's injury, as his youngest again demanded his attention.
"Is it gone?" Elrohir's voice was a little stronger, but held none of the quiet confidence Elrond was used to hearing from his son. He wondered what this thing was to have so tormented Elrohir. He gently placed a hand on the top of Elrohir's head.
"Yes Elrohir, you are with us now. How is it with you, tithen gil? You have slept long, and your dreams have been troubled. We feared for you."
"They weren't dreams. It was a nightmare."
~*~
Legolas could not stifle the exhausted sigh that escaped him as he flopped heavily onto his bed. This was what he'd been looking forward to for weeks. To sleep in a soft bed, with rich sheets and feather pillows; there was nothing quite like it. Except for a long hot bath … Legolas sighed again. That was definitely next on his list of things to do.
Heaving himself back to his feet, he padded into the bathroom joined to his guestroom. He breathed deeply as scented steam filled his nostrils from the bath waiting for him. One of Elrond's staff had no doubt anticipated his need to bathe.
'They could probably smell Aragorn all the way from Elladan's room,' he thought to himself. But that only brought his thoughts back to Elrohir.
The younger twin could not tell them what had happened to him. As Elrond had cleaned and bound his son's hands, Elrohir could only tell them that he had not slept in days. He claimed he had not been able to find peace. As soon as he would begin to drift off to sleep, some danger he could not perceive would startle him back to wakefulness.
At least, he could find no peace until he had visited his twin's chambers. It seemed that being near Elladan put Elrohir at his ease, bringing his guard down. Legolas winced as he remembered the look on Elladan's face as Elrond made this deduction. Of course, now Elladan had fuel to feel guilt.
But didn't they all? Elrohir blamed himself for not telling anyone sooner. Elrond blamed himself for not noticing. Aragorn blamed himself for not being here. And he? Well, Legolas blamed himself for dragging Aragorn to Lake Evendim and back. It seemed his virtual adoption into Elrond's family had caused the Mirkwood prince to acquire this particular family trait.
Legolas peeled off his tunic and grimaced at the state of the garment. Opening the large wardrobe against the far wall, he grinned at the tunics there. All clean, fresh and new. Perfect.
Stripping down, Legolas eased himself into the steaming water. This was pure bliss. Now all he needed was to fill his stomach and he would be ready for a long, relaxing nights sleep. Of course this thought led him again to Elladan's chambers.
Elladan was there alone now. Despite his exhaustion, Elrohir refused to stay there. The younger twin shrugged off all attempts to keep him in bed. He seemed terrified of the notion of falling back to sleep. After much coaxing from his father, Elrohir revealed all he could of his 'nightmare'.
The description of Elrohir's pursuit caused the young Elf's face to pale considerably. But it was not the shade of Elrohir's face that worried Legolas. It was Lord Elrond. The healer appeared visibly shaken, and Legolas could perceive a sense of forboding about him. Rather abruptly he had risen and ordered them all to their own rooms, taking Elrohir by the arm and leading him away.
Legolas shivered. The chill brought him back from his thoughts. He shook the cobwebs from his brain, rinsing his hair as quickly as possible in the now cool water. A growl from his stomach reminded him he had not eaten since breakfast, and it was now long past nightfall. Towelling himself off hastily, he dressed in loose leggings and an undershirt.
Bare feet slapped on the flagstone floor as the blonde prince headed to the kitchens. He stopped when he heard hushed voices ahead of him. One he recognised as Elrond, and the other was Glorfindel. The urgency in the Elf Lord's tone kindled Legolas' curiosity, and he obscured himself in the shadows to listen. Their voices were mere whispers, and the wood Elf only caught snatches on the conversation.
"Ride hard, mellon nin … Lorien. Galadriel must be warned …"
"Aye, my lord. Be on your guard … watch him closely. He … danger, as are you."
Glorfindel and Elrond exchanged a few more words Legolas could not discern. Then the Elf Lords' grasped arms, Glorfindel bowing slightly. Then his cloak flew out behind him as he turned and strode away towards the courtyard. Elrond himself turned and headed back towards the library. The expression on his face was drawn, and Legolas could see fear behind the soft grey eyes.
Forgetting his stomach, Legolas followed the blonde warrior swiftly. He reached the entrance to the courtyard just in time to see Asfaloth gallop into the night, away from Rivendell.
Legolas would have to be content with appeasing his hunger for food rather than knowledge.
~*~
"Good morning, my Lord. How did you sleep?" Legolas stood as Elrond walked into the dining hall at breakfast the next morning.
"I'm afraid to say sleep was stubborn in coming last night Legolas. I was … preoccupied. I trust you both slept soundly after your trip?" Elrond looked from Legolas to Aragorn, who seemed rather less conscious than Legolas.
"Nay Ada. I fear I was also 'preoccupied' as you put it. I know you know what is wrong with Elrohir. Why will you not tell us? Is he well this morning?"
Elrond sat and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed deeply. "Please Aragorn, not now. I am not sure what ails Elrohir, but it clearly haunts his dreams, and the hurts he suffers take physical form. I fear it will be dangerous for him to sleep."
Elladan, who had been sitting silently at the far end of the table pushing food around his plate, stood suddenly sending crockery and cutlery crashing to the floor in the process.
"Not sleep! He is exhausted! How can you expect him not to sleep? He hasn't slept in days, unless you count the torment he experienced yesterday as restful."
"Elladan, calm yourself please. This is helping no one …"
"No father, it is you who are not helping. I know that look in your eyes all too well. Elrohir and I saw it every time Aragorn contracted one of those potentially fatal childhood illnesses. When you told us that he would be fine, and then lock yourself away to bring down his fever. We see it every time one of our friends' is wounded on an orc hunt. We saw it when we brought home mother …"
"That is ENOUGH Elladan! What I may or may not know is none of your concern." Elrond's face was as stern as Aragorn had ever seen it. He stood, prepared to diffuse the situation. But Elladan was already retaliating.
"None of my concern!" Elladan's face was anguished now, and his voice shook, though he fought valiantly to conceal it. He ploughed on with his appeal to his father. "Ada please! This is about Elrohir! How can you say it is none of my concern. He is me, Ada. Please, tell me."
Elrond's heart almost broke at the pain on his eldest son's face. Surely he could not tell them, not yet. He may be wrong …
Before Elrond could answer, the silence that had fallen across the dining hall was shattered by the running feet and raised voices. All eyes turned to the door, where a slightly out of breath Elf Aragorn recognised as one of Glorfindel's warriors raced through it. He stopped before Lord Elrond and offered a small bow.
"My Lord, your presence is required immediately. Two of our warriors have been found near the Ford of Bruinen. They are dead, my Lord."
A stunned silence met the warrior's words. Two of Rivendell's elite dead? How could that be? Aragorn was sure that the twins' and he had cleared the area of wargs and orcs for the time being. And the Ford was protected by magic … Aragorn did not know how his father found his voice.
"How were they killed?"
"I do not know, it is a mystery. There was no sign of a struggle. Except … I cannot! My Lord, it is unspeakable!" The Elf took a moment to breathe and regain himself. "Their weapons were drawn, but Vinyasoron had not loosed a single arrow."
Elladan gasped. "Vinyasoron? Who else?"
Aragorn closed his eyes. He knew the answer even before the warrior whispered Nequernadeloth's name. He and Vinyasoron were inseperable, and great friends of Elladan and Elrohir. They had been born the same decade as his brothers.
"Listen young one, and listen carefully. Their eyes, were they …" Elrond was not allowed to finished his sentence, for the warrior could not contain himself any longer.
"But my Lord, that is just it! They did not have any eyes! They - had been cut out."
Aragorn dropped back to his seat. He was only distantly aware of his father's next words.
"Ai! Elbereth help my son. It is too late!"
TBC
