A/N: Hey all you happy people. I know what your thinking, "What about Darkness of the Mind?" Don't worry I'm still working on it and a small case of writers block. I had a bad week that only got worse as time flew by and writing is a great vent for me. So that's why I added a chapter to this one. Originally I hadn't planned on it, but I felt better after I did. I can't promise a continuation after this one, but someday I might.

"You never know what life holds, until Fate decides to role the dice." W.L.G.

Mourning Cries Of A Shattered Heart

Elrond couldn't believe what he was seeing. It had to be a dream there was simply no way he ever could have thought possible. It was his worst nightmare come to life. His lights in the dark, his pride, his most precious of creations, his baby boys, Elladan and Elrohir were dead. They had died protecting Estel from Orcs that would have surely killed him had the twins not been there. But still that knowledge did nothing to ease the pain in Elrond's heart. The last of his blood was gone; there would be no one else to carry on the family line. Arwen was the last of his children and her destiny was already written in stone. She would die a mortal's death soon after Estel passed from this world.

Elrond shut the door to his room. He could no longer stand to look at their pale motionless corpses. All life had fled from both twins and he could only hope they were happy in the halls of Mandos. Though it was the father's duty to prepare his son for the final resting place he could not bring himself to that. He could not bear to see them lying lifeless on the preparation beds. That was why he had called Glorfindel to his chambers; he would take care of everything. The Gondolin Elf was more than his military advisor; he was Elrond's friend and would often confide in him.

Glorfindel was also devastated by the news of the twins' untimely deaths; he kept all of Elrond's children close to heart as he possibly could. He was almost a second father to them all, when Elrond was too busy for any of them he would stand in and take up the responsibility of their care.

"Don't worry Elrond; there is no sorrow where they are. Trust me I know, I was dead once." said Glorfindel trying to help his grief stricken friend. He left the father to cry, the sound of a shattered heart, no half his soul, was too much for him to handle for too long.

He thought about what he had said to his friend and wondered if it helped any. He did remember Mandos's Halls, though the exact details are vague and slightly faded by time now. He still clearly remembered the feeling of total peace that every morning flooded his soul and filled him with joy. But it did not mean he forgot his friends and adopted family. Though most were there with him there were still a few that managed to survive. At night he thought about those he left behind, the ones who survived. Did they miss him when he died? He missed them and longed to see them at least one more time. Always he wondered if they felt alone, maybe helpless that they could not help him. He had felt that way before whenever one of his warriors died, or maybe one of the lieutenants under him. He knew what it was like to lose someone close, but never had he lost some as close to him as the twins and the rest of Elrond's family was.

Glorfindel had known the twins since the moment they first opened their sliver-gray eyes. He had taught them from a young age how to fight, how to survive, how to live. He always believed that before any of Elrond's children fell by the enemies hand he would go before them, for he swore years and years ago that no harm should come to any one of them while he drew breath. Now he had failed, and the guilt will forever torment him.

Glorfindel gritted his teeth when he heard the wolves howl in the distant. They were searching for the source of the freshly spilled blood, hoping for an easy meal. For the first time in a long time he felt really angry. He wanted to kill every Orc for all the pain they caused, for all the heartache that will last until the end of time. He would ease his pain by putting every Orc at the end of his sword. So bent the Elf was on revenge that he did not notice the sharp pain as his nails cut into his palm.

Erestor quietly stepped out of his room, his cloudy eyes looking nowhere past his nose. He had cried for hours ever since he had learned the twins' fate. His eyes finally dried when his tears ran out; too bad they didn't take the pain with them when they fell onto his downy pillow. He remembered one time after a prank, at his expense of course, how he had wished they would both just die or go far away until the end of time. But now they had died and he wished he never thought those terrible things. What was he thinking? Right now Erestor would give anything to have one more prank pulled on him by the twins.

As Erestor blindly walked down a random hallway, his feet carrying him to where they felt he should go, his shoulder collided with that of another. Mumbling a quick, nearly silent apology he briefly glanced at the one he ran into.

He wasn't surprised to see it was none other than Glorfindel himself. What shocked him was how the Elf looked. He was positively terrible. His back was stiff as he tried to bury his grief and try to remain strong for everyone. But his eyes gave him away showing all the pain and sorrow mixed with controlled rage. Erestor envied the blond Elf's ability to try and remain strong, even if he was fighting a losing battle with emotion.

Glorfindel was equally surprised to see Erestor. The advisor looked as if he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Dried tear stains left tracks along his face. Erestor didn't try to hide his pain even as the tears, even now, still ran down his face. Glorfindel envied Erestor for he wished he could cry.

Both bowed their heads in respect of each other before going on their way. Glorfindel to prepare bodies and Erestor to comfort those fading from grief.

The dark haired Elf somehow found his way to the family quarters of Rivendell. His feet taking him there on automatic. He heard the muffled cries coming from Estel's room. The poor boy had taken the twins death pretty hard.

Erestor had seen Estel when he walked in; the child didn't even acknowledge being home. He walked in a daze, his mind lost to the horrors he saw in the woods. To witness ones siblings murdered was too much for anyone to bear, and Estel had acted no different than expected. He looked detached from the world, as if his body was moving, but his mind had taken leave of him. He didn't even acknowledge the twins being brought in so they could be tended to. The sixteen-year old had gone straight to his room and there he remained shut away from the world.

The first time the boy had been checked on he was found to be fast asleep, the healers had checked him over to make sure he had no wounds and was in no danger of dieing himself. Erestor shuttered at the thought. If that had happened there would be no hope for anyone. At least if he was alive there was a possibility he could bring life back into the grieving household.

Erestor knocked lightly on the wooden door, "Estel, may I come in?"

There wasn't an answer, only the shifting of cloths as Estel moved to unlock the door. The only thing that told him he was allowed entrance.

Opening the door Erestor stepped inside and shut the door behind him to give them privacy. Inside was nothing but gloom. All lights were off, not even a candle was burring in a corner. The curtains were open revealing a dark, stormy sky. Estel sat on a ledge below the window, his hands hanging limply in his lap, his legs stretched out in front of him nearly reaching the other side of the ledge, and head resting against the cool glass as he stared off into the distance with sad eyes. His cloths were torn and rumpled and still held the scent of dried blood. They were the same ones he had worn when the twins died.

The sight of what was once a lively headstrong lad nearly made Erestor cry again. If Estel, their only hope for a happy life, was acting like this then what hope did they have for their own survival? The two sat in silence, Erestor would wait out the young human. At last his patience was rewarded.

"Erestor are Elves really immortal?" Estel asked softly as he continued to stare out the window at the dark cloudy sky.

Estel had asked this question before when he was much younger and had first learned about life and death. Elrond had answered that then, but in the state the mighty Elf lord was in Erestor doubted he would be in any mood to answer these type of questions. That and Estel hadn't left to seek out his foster father.

Erestor knew Estel was not asking that same question, but the advisor knew no other way to answer. "Yes."

"Then why do they die?" Estel looked Erestor in the eyes, and the Elf saw what had been previously hidden from him. His eyes showed the weight of a tremendous burden, and the soul of one that had seen too much for him to bear. "Why is it they can be killed, murdered by Orcs and men. How is possible to be called immortal and still it is possible for someone to kill them?"

Erestor reacted on impulse at the sound of sorrow. He hugged the young teenager fiercely he didn't know how to answer that, what could he say to make the child feel better about the whole incident? Nothing, for all his wisdom brought on by countless years, he could think of nothing to say to ease this vicious heartache that bit hard and shredded the tender heart.

Soon he felt tears soaking through his robes as Estel cried, his breath hitching in the back of his throat. Erestor sat with him for a little while longer rubbing the young one back in a vain attempt to ease Estel's suffering, while tears once again fell from his own eyes.

Finally the sobs between elf and man subsided and they pulled apart. Estel sniffled, and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. But still he looked ready to cry again and all the sorrow was beginning to take its toll on both of them. There was still one more they needed to see.

"Come, let us go to your father. He will need you in this trying time."

Estel slowly nodded and rose shakily to his feet.

Together they walked down the seemingly endless hallway not a word spoken between them as they headed to where Elrond was mourning the loss of his sons. Erestor took note on how Estel's steps were becoming slower, stalling ever so often. Erestor was almost dragging him by the time they reached the Elf Lords chambers.

Estel felt the color drain from his face as fear set in. He was going to see his father the one he was hiding from, the reason he had locked himself away, hoping to be forgotten by all.

Erestor could feel the muscles in Estel tense and he tighten his grip. The young man wanted to run. 'So that's it.' Thought Erestor as he realized the reason behind the suffering. 'He and Elrond are more alike than they are given credit for.'

"Elrond?" Erestor called as he knocked.

No answer.

Erestor tried again. "Elrond?"

Nothing

Erestor tried to keep his worry and panic for his leader in check for the sake of Estel. He didn't want to alarm him further. The teenager was already upset he didn't need the advisor making it worse.

Erestor tried the knob, seeing if the door was unlocked. It was.

"Elrond I'm coming in."

Erestor opened the door slowly at first so that if Elrond had died from grief then he could shut the door and prevent Estel from seeing inside.

Elrond was seated in a stuffed chair his eyes staring down in his lap where he held two small stuffed toys in his lap, his thumbs gently caressing each one. They had belonged to Elladan and Elrohir when they were children. Elrond's long dark hair had been taken out of its usual braids and elegant knots, hiding the Elf's eyes from view. Erestor led Estel, who had finally found a small amount of courage, entered behind him.

Erestor left without a sound leaving the two alone to find comfort in each other.

Estel could no longer take the silence and fell to his knees and begged to his father a confession that had slowly been consuming him. "Ada I'm sorry." Estel sobbed tears cascading down his cheeks in rivers. "I didn't mean to, honestly. It's my fault they died. If I had only listened when they told me to, and stayed behind none of this would ever have happened. I was a fool to go against them."

Elrond watched his now only son, the pleas cutting through his depression and turning it into shock at what was said. Estel was blaming himself for what had happened. Elrond rushed to his foster son's side and knelt down to hold the young one.

"No, no, no, no." he said to the top of Estel's head. "It is not your fault and it never will be. Your brothers died protecting you…"

"That's it Ada. If they didn't protect me they would still be here and everyone would be happy. I wish I had died instead."

"Estel!" Elrond forced Estel to look at him, "Estel, never say that again." Estel looked away, not able to find the strength to keep eye contact with his father. "Estel please never ever say those words again. I can promise you we would just as upset over losing you that we would never be able to recover."

"But I'm human I would have died anyway, whether now or later I will one day pass from this world."

Elrond closed his eyes in sorrow. That truth had hurt; it was like rubbing salt in a wound. Fresh salty tears feel down his cheeks and both father and son sat on the floor and cried for those they lost and wondering who would be the next one Mandos called home.

A/N: Continue? Yes? No? Like? Dislike? Review me please.