Title: Token of Devotions

Author: Psalm 136 (Coaltrain was kind enough to put this up for me)

Rating: T

Summary: See first chapter

Disclaimer: Does it look like I own Lotr? Didn't think so. I only own… I own my Bible, some Dentyne Ice and lots of books. That's about it. If I owned Lotr, I don't think I would be writing fanfiction. If I owned Lotr, I would be basking in my great monies and riches. But I don't own Lotr.

A/N: This chapter was heavily inspired by "When No One Else" by Building 429. If you haven't heard the song, listen to it. Its brilliant. Its also inspired by "When Love Takes You In" by Steven Curtis Chapman. Also another brilliant song.

A/N 2: And so we're all on the same page, there is no such thing as slash in this story. Glorfindel and Erestor are best friends and Elladan and Elrohir are brothers.

Token of Devotion

Chapter Four

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Elrohir stood in front of his mirror. He had long since finished his braids and fixing his tunic, so he merely looking at his own reflection. He still wondered how Glorfindel had known something was wrong. Everything was wrong. He had faked a smile for so long, he was broken. It hurt to be the only one facing such pain. Not even his father knew of what torment he went through daily. And he intended for it to stay that way. No one could know he, Lord Elrohir the prankster, wished for love and wished for a life different than that of which he already had. He rested a hand on his chest, right above his heart. It was as if there was nothing there. There was an empty hole there, and he wanted and needed to fill it, but he didn't know how he could. He had spent many a night crying silently, and wishing there was a way out. But there never came to be one. He was stuck on Middle Earth, in his pain. He wanted so much to fade, but the fact Elladan would still be on Arda kept him there. That was the only reason.

In a way, all he wanted was a place to call home. But there didn't seem to be one for him. Elrohir wanted to cry himself to sleep and then drift off to a dream where there were people who loved him, not for the mask, but for the broken and bruised soul that lay behind it. The love of a brother was not enough to bring him joy. He let out a sigh and met his reflection's azure eyes and let the smile hide his pain again. He brushed off his already immaculate tunic as tears started to fall from his eyes.

"Its dirty, I have to clean it." He mumbled. There was nothing wrong with his tunic. But there was something wrong with his soul. Lacerating wounds burned, wounding him every second he refused to let them find a healing source. "Its not good, its wrong."

Elrohir regained himself quickly, wiping his tears away. He rebuked himself harshly in his heart of hearts, convincing himself he was not worthy of love. Swallowing, he glanced over to his balcony doors and smiled humorlessly as he heard the sound of rain falling. He would have noticed it earlier if his focus had been in reality, not on his mind and soul and spirit.

Rain was always Elrohir's favorite weather. It described him perfectly, though he would never tell anyone that. Though, as an elf, he could feel no cold, it was as if when the drops hit his skin, they chilled not his body, but his very soul. He planted a fake grin on his face and exited his rooms. He was quick to ask a passing servant for directions and then plucked a white lily from a planter in the hallway.

He knocked on Alatari's door, almost excited to see her. She intrigued him, and tested his very beliefs about female kind.

"Hello, milord."

Elrohir looked up from where he had been staring on the ground, and his breath literally caught in his throat. Alatari was not the most beautiful of elleths, with plain brown hair and hazel eyes, but her simple beauty was enhanced by the dark green dress she wore. She smiled nervously as he met her eyes once more. He just couldn't believe how innocent and beautiful she looked. All elleths were beautiful, yes, but this one didn't want to bed him and he saw authenticity in her eyes. He didn't know what was authentic, but he supposed it was her spirit. Her spirit was innocent and beautiful. Though she wasn't as graceful as other elves, he could care less. He had found a potential friend. He gave her a small, tentative smile.

"You look beautiful, milady." Elrohir said honestly. He handed her the flower.

Alatari smiled, averting her eyes in embarrassment as she tucked the lily behind her ear. She was not used to such a handsome and interesting Lord telling her she was beautiful. She never usually considered herself beautiful in any aspect. Not that she hated herself, but coming from Elrohir… she felt like she was. "Thank you." She said softly.

"Shall we?" He offered his arm to her, which she readily took.

The walk to the ballroom was pleasant, filled with friendly banter. In that space of three minutes, he felt… happy. He didn't feel like he needed to pretend to be anyone. He knew that she was different than most. She wouldn't judge him for being the way he was. She wouldn't think of rejecting him if he got real with her. It was such a liberating feeling, and he treasured that feeling, storing it away to fight the depression that would certainly come later, when he saw all the couples dancing, and when he saw love reflecting in the eyes of those he had known for all his life. That feeling would fight away the jealousy. It would fight away the anger.

"Thank you." Alatari said as Elrohir pulled her chair out for her.

Elrohir made sure she was situated before taking his seat, right next to her. He looked down at the glorious feast set before him and suddenly, his appetite fled him. Usually, he was famed for the amount of food he could eat, and still have energy to flirt with elven maidens. But now, he didn't even have the strength to lift the fork. He wasn't even sure why. So, he picked up his goblet and sipped at the strong wine.

"Milord—" Elrohir cut her off.

"Pardon me, milady, call me Elrohir." He intervened.

Alatari smiled at him. "Alright. Elrohir, why are you not eating?" She placed her hand over his in friendly concern.

The mere contact warmed Elrohir's frozen soul and soothed him. He wished to take her hand, but then, he was risking the fact she could just pull her hand away. He swallowed nervously and shrugged, trying to act lighthearted, but he had a strange feeling Alatari could see right through his act. In a way, she was like his father and could almost read his mind. It was a violating feeling.

"I suppose I had too much to eat at lunch." He lied easily. He had eaten part of a salad and had a few sips of wine, before excusing himself. But she didn't need to know that. He hadn't eaten well of late, and it was partially due to the fact Mithrandir was visiting soon. That wizened wizard always knew if something was wrong. He was not looking forward to his visit, for the first time in his long life.

"If you say so." Alatari shrugged, before turning back to the delicious venison.

"May I have this dance, Lady Alatari?" Elrohir asked as he stood up, offering his hand to her.

Alatari smiled and nodded, taking his hand. She let him lead her out to the dance floor. As if by fate, a slow beat was started up and Elrohir placed a hand modestly on her waist and took her small, feminine hand in his much larger one. He gave her a genuine smile as they danced, feeling happy again. Her glittering eyes sent an emotion running through him. It made him want to dance in joy, which was a strange concept to him. He hadn't felt joy since before his mother had passed to Valinor. Even seeing his sister fall in love didn't help his disposition.

"Elrohir, there is something wrong."

Elrohir could have jumped, but he didn't. He looked into her calm, questioning eyes with his own wide, trapped ones. He swallowed and fought to regain his calm, but she had already seen his panic and fear. She removed her hand from his shoulder to gently caress his face. The small gesture of friendship nearly prompted him to sob once more, this time in sheer gratefulness that the Valar had sent him someone to love him. This was all he had ever wanted.

"I cannot tell you." He whispered.

"You don't have to. But I am here, remember that. If you need someone to hold you as you cry, or someone to laugh with or someone to just simply exist with, I'm here for you." Alatari told him sincerely.

Elrohir could see in her eyes that she had a heart. She radiated love and comfort. It was as if she knew what he was talking about. He could see understanding and caring in her eyes. He drew closer to her, like a babe would draw close to his mother. He felt like she knew him better than he knew himself and he felt no shame. He buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair, and even let a few tears drop. Feeling this, Alatari tightened her hold on him and whispered calming words in elvish.

"Thank you, my friend." Elrohir whispered in elvish as the emotion passed. "Thank you."

Alatari gave him an understanding smile. "There is no need for thanks, friend. You would do the same for me, I know it." She playfully tugged on one of his braids. "Warrior braids. They fit you."

Elrohir thought he sensed a hint of meaning behind her words, but shrugged it off. Yes, he was a warrior and had earned his braids like everyone else. But he was flattered nonetheless. "I know, thank you." He jested.

"Stop thanking me!" She rebuked him flirtatiously and gently hit the back of her hand against his arm.

"Ow!" Elrohir rubbed where she had hit him, just to see her laugh, even though it didn't hurt at all. He smiled at her laugh. Her laugh was beautiful and clear and full of joy. It was the embodiment of her soul, he thought.

Alatari looked over at the closed doors that went into the garden and looked back up at him. "Will you walk with me?" She pleaded.

He raised an eyebrow. "In the rain? Your dress will become muddy." He reminded her.

She looked down at her beautiful dress and wondered if she should compromise all the work put into the making of the dress. She sighed. "I know, but it will be fun!" She took his hand and stood up. "Please, Elrohir?"

Elrohir looked into her eyes and sighed, smiling. She was impossible to refuse. He stood up and excused them and then they walked out into the gardens together. It was raining heavily, but there was no wind. He hated the rain and wind together. She took her hand out of his grasp and danced in the rain, twirling and singing a nonsense tune, like an elfling. Her unbridled joy and happiness brought him hope, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Come on, oh stern lord of Imladris!" Alatari grabbed his hand and together, they twirled for close to an hour, before deciding to call it quits.

They walked into the hallway, dripping and laughing. Elrohir's laugh was not forced at all. She leaned against him and his arm went around her instinctively. Their laughter soon ceased and they took one look at the other and burst out laughing again. A passing maid rolled her eyes, causing them to laugh harder.

Alatari had to lean against a wall and Elrohir was already on the floor. There wasn't anything in particular they were laughing about. They were just laughing because they could. She took a deep breath and quelled her giggles and took off her slippers and started off towards her rooms. She looked over her shoulder.

"Coming to escort me?"

Remembering himself, Elrohir stood up and composed himself before following her quickly. He smiled at her and put an arm around her amiably, and she promptly nestled into his embrace. She closed her eyes, letting him lead them to her rooms. He smiled and planted a kiss on her brow.

"Goodnight, my friend." Alatari said and opened her door.

"I wish you sweet dreams." He quickly fixed the lily behind her ear, since it had drooped down. "I will see you at breakfast." He pecked her cheek in a friendly gesture before leaving her to head back to his own rooms.

Elrohir opened his door and saw Elladan sitting on his bed, with a sage smile on his face. The younger twin rolled his eyes and closed the door, taking off his dripping tunic and breeches, toweling himself off with the towel his elder brother offered him. He put on his dry sleepwear and put the towel under his hair to keep the cloth from becoming wet.

"Sit." Elladan pointed to the floor so he could braid his younger brother's hair. He slid down onto the floor so he would have easier access.

Elrohir complied. Some of the most sacred moments between the brothers were when there was no one else around and they were simply brothers, not lords, not anyone. He closed his eyes at the soothing ministrations of his brother's fingers in his hair. He let out a contented sigh.

"You are happy, my brother." Elladan whispered.

"For the moment." He corrected. He could already feel the want for the love he felt when Alatari was around again. He also felt the sharp sting of the fact no one knew exactly what his torment was. He was a protector, and he wanted to be protected in a way no one could.

"It brings me joy."

"I love Alatari, as a sister and a friend. I know this. But I have known her for so little of a time. Am I mistaking my feelings for something else?" The younger brother asked.

The elder shook his head. "No, you are not. Your soul cried out for such love, and you were answered. What is Alatari like?" He asked with a smile.

"She is intriguing, and not like other elleths at all. She is a little clumsy, not as beautiful as most, but beautiful. She has a beautiful spirit, and she understands me. I think she knows I am in pain, and she understands. She doesn't pity me." Elrohir reported with a smile.

Elladan finished braiding his brother's hair and stood up, helping his twin up as well. "I am happy that you have found a friend. And Glorfindel suspects something."

Elrohir sighed. "I know. And Mithrandir shall know something is wrong as well. I cannot tell them." He felt fear rise in him.

Elladan sensed this and put his arms around his younger brother and sighed. "You don't have to tell them. You must trust in the Valar, that they will heal your spirit. You are broken, my brother. Do not let it consume you." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Please."