Disclaimer: This is mine...just like Pamela Anderson's boobs aren't implants. But unlike her, I'm not making money.
A/N: Hello, hello, my dear readers! I am so very, very sorry that this chapter was so long in the making. I know...it's a bitch waiting for my updates. But I've had a very busy summer, a time-consuming summer job, a play...and I've been concentrating on my grades these first few months of school (they weren't so hot last year). To top that all off, my muses decided to run very, very far away from this story. But everything came together, this chapter is posted, and the next should be up quite a bit faster. Great thanks to my dearest beta, Insane Vampiress. Always remember...the more you review, the faster I update–it really is so inspirational to see that people are reading. And...enjoy!
empath89: Yes...my lovely villainess, is quite off in the head, isn't she? Well, enjoy that, keep reviewing and there will be plenty more chocolate elves in it for you...I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Hyperactive Forever: Yes...someone does need to stop Hithwen dead in her tracks, but who among our dandy cast could challenge one of the Maiar? Don't worry about hurting Elrohir...he's hurt plenty without your help. And thank you for the compliment, angst is my favorite to write. Here's Elrohir's POV...a bit long in the making though. Nevertheless, enjoy!
Sarah: Well, I'm afraid you had to wait a while...but here is the update.
Elladan of Rivendell: Well, I'm glad you enjoy my twisted little creation. Thank you for reviewing, and here's one to trigger your alerts.
Brainy: I am very glad you like, and very sorry about how long you had to wait...I'm afraid I can be a bit unfriendly sometimes when it comes to updating... And if you're going insane...well, read this, and you'll find you're not the only one. evil grin
Lanira: Whatever gave you the idea that this was abandoned...? innocent smile I'll try to make that suspicion a bit easier to avoid next time–enjoy!
Ceasta: Thank you! I'm glad you like my villainess, because she's here to stay...
Chapter 4: Not Here:
The images of his suffering in my head are vague, vague but all too existent. A silver dagger, decorated with shining rubies and fresh blood flashes in my mind, and then the sparkling crimson gushing down the pale torso of a limp figure I can just barely identify as my brother.
That's all I can manage to grasp before I am snapped back to consciousness, and the first wave of retching overtakes my body, forcing the nourishment that was forced into it out. I see my father, eyes silver and sad, gesture to a servant, who rushes out of the room to fetch something. Another quickly rushes in with a bucket, as the strong hands of my sire steady my shoulders.
I continue dry-heaving long after my all too abused body is emptied of the only food it's contained in weeks, and then, I am left lying on the bed as more visions of my twin's suffering sweep into my mind.
Elrohir lay on the bed, the ceiling above him spinning, death he'd barely escaped time and time again feeling all too welcome. His healing chest was wracked with unimaginable pain caused by the intense heaving he'd just been doubled over with, and the thin mental barrier between him and his brother was trembling with his brother's agony.
The younger twin managed a thought about how much what he was feeling right now must be adding to Elladan's suffering, and struggled to block off his feelings, not finding strength to do so. Suddenly, something else flashed on the other end of the line, courage. Extreme, senseless courage. A weak smile played upon Elrohir's face–Elladan was still Elladan.
His brother's bravery snapped him out of his misery, and a flash of the same emotion rippled through him; letting his twin know he felt something other than despair.
Elrond, who had left his son's side for a few moments returned to him, sensing his child's slight relief. He smiled a sad smile, knowing that for at least a very short while, one of his sons would have some sort of peace. The mighty peredhel turned his thoughts away from the previous night's vision, and to the present needs of his offspring.
Elrohir chuckled softly, though the action did cause him some pain. "Adar, I think some food would be optimal now." His voice was weak, and the smile that played upon this face was bereft of any actual joy–sparkling instead with intense cynicism.
"Very well, I shall have a bath drawn and some food you'll be able to ingest in your current state prepared?" the Lord of Imladris suggested, drawing his son's attention to the his state of uncleanliness. "Arwen wants to see you, I've been a little nervous about letting her witness you in your earlier state. She is so young and impressionable... And that recent shock she has had..."
"After I bathe," Elrohir muttered, scrunching his nose at a thought of the substance in his hair.
The expression on his son's face merited another of Lord Elrond's rare smiles, and he walked off, directing servants and making sure they knew what to do with his injured child.
The half-elf stared at the still-moving ceiling, convincing himself everything would be alright. They'd find Elladan, and bring him home, and the younger twin would be damned if he didn't tend to his stubborn, horrid, and hopelessly-worried-over brother himself. He could even imagine himself losing his voice screaming at the patient (confirmed by Elrond himself to be the worst ever) as he treated him.
Before he had time to worry that his twin's injuries might already be far, far beyond his limited prowess in healing, the door opened and a fairly young elf familiar to him (was his name (translate quick hand?) came over to help him get to the bath, and Elrohir was confronted with the harsh reality–he was utterly unable to get there by himself.
After he'd made the far too difficult journey, politely thanked the elf for his assistance and watched him walk off, the peredhel flung off the loose leggings that had served as his clothes through nearly every one of his many injuries.
Lowering himself into the filled tub was a painful process, but it wasn't a fruitless labor. Water. Water to cleanse his body and to temporarily cleanse his mind and soul of the pain and worry that consumed them. Water to fill him with a sense of paranoia he couldn't understand.
There was just something about the comfortably warm water that rinsed the lather from his hair and washed the suds from his pale skin, leaving him so refreshingly clean. Something about it as it dripped from his long, raven hair and traced a path down his too-lean body.
Elrohir dried himself, watchful of the stitching in his chest, and carefully pulled on the leggings. Perching on the edge of the tub, he wondered exactly how he was supposed to get back to bed. That rather brief train of thought lasted until (same name as before) came back to check on him and to make the painstaking process of returning to the sick-room.
The place was almost as much home to him as his own chamber, albeit a rather more depressing version of said home. He'd spent at least a night there for most every scar that was, or had ever been on his body, and even one scar a century (and he could own up to much more than that) would have been quite a bit of nights in the sick-room.
He decided that he didn't feel like thinking. He was now slipping into a comfortable bed, by which a table with a tray adorned with some soup and fresh-baked bread had been placed. Not the time for thought.
Elrohir ate, completely depleting the tray and still wanting more (which he wasn't allowed because he needed to be eased back into the art of eating).
The peredhel rested against the cushions, relaxing a bit until a worried younger sister peeked through the now slightly-opened door, escorted by none other than Legolas.
After assuring that he was alright, rushed over to him, squealing his name, and threw her arms around him (slowing down a bit to avoid aggravating his healing wound). His friend followed her calmly, smiling at her rather childlike antics (she was after all, little more than just that).
Cynicism oozed from his every pore, and Elrohir couldn't help but think that his friend was being affected rather negatively by this whole business, worried about both him and Elladan, and ridden with guilt for not being able to do more to help them.
"You worried me, gwador... Adar wouldn't let me see you," Arwen murmured, "I was afraid it meant you were dying, or something of the nature." brother
"Va! Silly girl...I'm anything but dead," her brother laughed. No
Legolas still stood behind her, unwavering in his silence.
"Well...I can see that, and I am quite relieved," she announced.
A smile spread across Elrohir's face (his golden-haired friend smiled, too, but uttered not a sound), "I have missed you dearly, Lady Undomiel. And I do believe you've grown even prettier since I saw you last."
She grinned at him, and struck a pose, "Adar says that he is growing tired of rejecting my suitors."
"Who is he waiting for?" he questioned.
"Someone he deems worthy..." she uttered disdainfully, "And I do believe that someone simply doesn't exist."
Elrohir chuckled, "I suppose he's looking for someone that he sees you will love," then, with a thought, "He's given up on telling me and Elladan to go out and find ourselves some kind of match."
"I suppose he's decided to let you take your time as well..." Arwen continued the conversation, but frowns tainted the faces of all those present at the mention of that which they were failing to reclaim.
The elder of the peredhil present expected Legolas to mention something about his twin, and the progress of the search...but there was still only silence from that nonexistent end of the conversation.
"You seem distracted, Elly..." his sister chimed, "Is anything wrong?"
"Well...I'm fine," he replied, "It's just that...Legolas, he hasn't made a sound this whole time." He stared up at the stately, blonde figure.
When Elrohir's attention returned to the Evenstar, she was gawking at him–eyes wide and mouth slightly open. It took her a moment to recollect all thought, but she eventually whispered, "Elrohir...Legolas left a while ago to join a fresh search-party. He isn't here."