A/N;

For IWishChan and Hazlesilver. You've both asked to have Kalya back again. Your wish is my command. (Halbarad insisted on coming as well. Will be having words with him later.)

I have a habit of referring to Eldarion as Elboron's brother. There is no biological connection (Elboron is an only child in this tale) This refers more to the spiritual connection between them.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The Gondorian soldiers, particularly Díorn and Elboron, seemed to go berserk after Eldarion hit the ground and violently lashed out at anything that moved, grief and anger finding a very quick outlet. The Rohirric warriors were equally annoyed but guilt mingled among them as well. Until the battle was finished, there was nothing that the warriors could do by protect the bodies of their fallen Princes. Eldarion's body was sprawled across Eledher's, even in death protecting one who was weaker than himself.

Elfwine and Elboron felt a mixture of pain and fury as they charged towards their fallen brothers. Rosruin had dashed to Díorn's side and pulled the albino to him, tightly holding his brother who was shaking with shock. Silently Díorn was berating himself for not getting to Eldarion fast enough.

Elfwine's heart was pounding in his throat, making it hard for him to breathe, while Elboron's eyes watered, blurring his vision as they ran. Elboron fell to his knees, his sword dropped some yards behind him, and dragged Eldarion into a seating position against his chest. An arrow had imbedded itself in Eldarion's chest a fraction of an inch below his breastbone while another three had landed in his arm. Eldarion didn't fight with a sword and shield, preferring to use a set of twin knives, meaning that he had made himself very vulnerable when he had run to Eledher's side. Elfwine pulled said Rohirrim into his arms and began to check him for any signs of life.

'Eldarion, no echui. Cenin le,' begged Elboron, resting his head on Eldarion's shoulder and searching desperately for even the smallest tendril of their bond. He grew more and more desperate as none seemed to be found. Over and over again, in an increasingly emotional voice, he whispered; 'No echui. Cenin le, no echui.' wake up. I beg you

"Is he alright?" asked Eledher, who was regaining consciousness, having been first winded when Eldarion's body had collided with his chest and then knocked out when his head collided with the ground.

"My Lord, come with me," said Gamling as neither cousin in any state to answer the actual question. Thankfully, the shock at seeing Eldarion splayed unresponsively in Elboron's arms and Elboron himself on the verge of a nervous collapse was enough for Eledher do as he was told without any form of argument. As he followed Gamling he past Díorn, who was biting his lip in an attempt to hold back his emotions as he tended to one his men who had been slain. Rosruin was stony faced as he watched the two cousins begin to crumble. Eledher cast his eyes to the ground and numbly made his way to Éomer who looked morose.

Elfwine moved so that he was in front of the pair and withdrew his hunting knife, fighting back his own emotions. After slicing throw the arrow shafts and cutting away Eldarion's leather armour and shirt sleeve, Elfwine carefully prized out the arrowhead that was imbedded in Eldarion's forearm and wrapping the wound. The dead should not have to carry the means of their demise through to the next life.

As he stretched up to remove the second arrow, he thought he saw Eldarion's chest twitch but the movement was so swift and Elboron's arms preventing much of a view, Elfwine thought he had imagined it. He grabbed the dagger from Eldarion's belt, his own now covered in blood and unable to serve his purpose, and held it against Eldarion's face, flat side facing his nose. A puff of condensation blew across the metal quickly followed by another.

"He's alive," choked Elfwine looking up to meet Elboron's tearing gaze. "He's still alive!"

"Get his tunic off. Lay him on the bed," ordered Fætthyge as he bustled around Eldarion's room in Meduseld. Elboron was still in a state of shock so Elfwine took the fallen Prince and began to strip him of his upper garments.

'Elboron?' asked Eldarion, voice no more than a whisper and that was so quiet that Elfwine nearly missed it. He grabbed his cousin by the arm.

"He calls for you," he said, forcing the elder man to kneel.

'Eldarion?' Elboron asked, grasping Eldarion's hand in his own. Eldarion blinked and licked his drying lips.

'Eledher?'

'Is alright,' replied Elboron, a slight growl entering his voice.

'Do not blame him,' whispered Eldarion. In his weakened state, and Elboron's panicked one, their mental barriers were paper thin, only keeping back the weakest of emotions but even without the bond, Eldarion would have been able to sense the hatred currently directed at Eledher.

'You wouldn't be laying here if you didn't have worry about my pig-headed, glory hunting cousin!' snapped Elboron, his fear of losing Eldarion springing violently to the forefront. He was thankful that Elfwine did not have a large grasp of the Sindarin language otherwise he may have been needing Fætthyge's physician skills as well.

'Don't,' whispered Eldarion again before his eyes drifted closed again, pain and battle exhaustion wearing him down. His pulse weakened in the wrist Elboron held and his breathing was barely noticeable. Elboron collapsed forward and sobbed into Eldarion's shoulder, refusing to be moved.

"One arrow I can understand but how, in the name of Béma, do you get hit by three?" exclaimed Fætthyge as he worked out how to treat Eldarion whilst Elboron was clinging to him like a drowning man did driftwood.

"He doesn't fight with a shield and it was four. They were meant for Eledher," said Elfwine, gripping Elboron's shoulder in what he hoped was perceived as comfort. "Can you….is he…."

"His wounds are deep and he will be weak for the next few weeks and have little muscle control in his right arm, which will cause him some frustration. However, these are all arrows belonging to the Dunlendings and they are not known for using poison on their weapons so there is a high chance he will make a full recovery. Unless there is some serious internal damage to his chest cavity, he will survive," replied Fætthyge. Elfwine released a sigh of relief and gripped Elboron's shoulder again.

Fætthyge cleared his throat. "Sire you have to move," he said meaning Elboron. Elboron shook his head violently. Elfwine bit his lip in preparation for a conflict, and pried Elboron from around the unconscious Gondorian. He held him tightly as Fætthyge began, as gently as possible, to remove the tips lodged in Eldarion's bronze skin.

Annúminas, three nights after Eldarion's injury

Aragorn sat in his study, the letter Éomer clasped firmly in his hand. The same line ran through his head on constant repeat. Eldarion has been injured while defending Eledher Éomer had written. Aragorn had not read the rest of the letter after that point, fury beginning to course through his system. Eledher had always been temperamental and seemed to have gained the attitude that because he was a King's son, nothing could harm him. Aragorn was sorely tempted to ride to Rohan to deliver punishment upon the youth but somewhere in his heart he realised that the past could not be changed. Eldarion had fallen and that was that. Now they all had to find a way of dealing with the fallout.

Why are you thinking the worst already? asked Halbarad as he appeared beside him. Aragorn gave a start when he made eye contact with his long dead kinsman. The last time he had seen the Ranger, he was bloodied, had enough arrows in his skin to make a hedgehog jealous, and looked thoroughly annoyed by the fact he was dead. Now, he was clean, his clothes were in a decent condition and his eyes held a spark of mischief which seemed to have been inherited by Túnír.

"How?" he managed in a strangled voice.

You are asleep, replied Halbarad. Lórien managed to persuade Námo into releasing our spirits for a short while.

"Our spirits?" repeated Aragorn. Halbarad nodded. "Why now?"

Because now is when your soul is experiencing the greatest turmoil said a female voice from beside the window. Aragorn swung round and came face to face with Kalya. She looked no different from the last time he had seen her spirit and Aragorn's breathing was hitched as he stood from his seat and moved over across to Kalya. His younger twin moved towards him and the two embraced for the first time in thirty years.

"I never thought I would see you again!" whispered Aragorn into Kalya's shoulder. Kalya held him close.

You are as bad as your son, she said. Did you not listen when Adar told us that those who die never truly leave us?

"I listened. And it was easy advise to give until I lost you," murmured Aragorn. "Now it feels hypocritical."

If we were lost to you, we would not be here, said Halbarad resting against the desk and crossing his arms. But you did not answer my question. Why are you thinking the worst has occurred to your son?

"He has been shot! Four times!" retorted Aragorn. "How can I not think the worst?"

Elboron is still strong, replied Kalya as though it explained everything.

"That is not a lot of comfort, Kalya," replied Aragorn. "It is my son that fell defending Eledher!"

He's a warrior Aragorn, these kind of things happen in battle, said Halbarad.

And harming Eledher will not endear you to him either, warned Kalya. Aragorn stared at her.

"How did you…."

I know what family means to you and how protective you are of Eldarion, replied Kalya. As Halbarad said, he is a warrior and things like this happen in battle.

Aragorn nodded, biting his bottom lip as he did so. His breathing hitched again when the two spirits began to become translucent.

"Your fading!" he protested.

Námo calls, said Halbarad You never lost hope before Aragorn, don't do it now. He saluted his Captain and disappeared. Aragorn stared wide-eyed as Kalya's spirit faded before him for the second time in his life. Before she went completely, she hugged Aragorn tightly again.

"This is so unfair," whispered Aragorn, bringing his own arms up around her torso and burying his face in her shoulder. Kalya did not speak, not knowing how to respond. Instead she simply held the yet grieving man until the pull of Mandos was too strong to ignore.

Namárië, muindor nîn, she whispered and then she too was gone. farewell my brother

Aragorn sat up sharply in his bed, his breathing ragged. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply in an effort to calm himself but failed miserably. Not wanting to wake Arwen, who had withdrawn into herself upon finding out that her son was staring death in the face again, Aragorn slid from under the covers, pulled a light robe over his sleep clothes and left the room.

He made it to the courtyard before his emotions got the better of him and he collapsed into an emotional mess, as his soul struggled to cope with the second loss of its twin and the imminent loss of its anchor.

Rohan

One ailing friend, Elfwine could deal with but two was another matter. He was thankful that Díorn was able to turn to Rosruin for comfort because Elfwine would not have been able to cope with all three Gondorians falling to pieces around him.

Eldarion he could handle, his problem being mostly physical (for the moment anyway)but he had absolutely no idea how to help Elboron. He could tell that his cousin was beginning to get annoyed with the phrase 'he will be fine.' So far Eldarion was anything but fine. True, his breathing had stabilised into a steady pattern but it was too shallow to sustain his body for long, his heartbeat was still irregular, his torso and entire left arm was wrapped in linen. Blood spots showed through the material reminding everyone of where he had been struck. He was unable to regain consciousness for more than a couple minutes, a majority of his movements were involuntary and his ability for speech had been snatched from him.

On top of the Gondorian commanders, Eledher was suffering. Despite his public bravado of not needing anyone to look out for him, the younger Rohirric Prince had often sought Elfwine's and Lothíriel's affection in private company, and he hero-worshipped the two Gondorian heirs, along with his elder brother. He had tried to apologise but Elboron was hurting to much to heed what was being said and Eledher quickly became lost in a sea of loss and confusion with no support. Now with Eldarion was close to death, Elboron was on the verge of following him and Eledher avoiding them as though they had the plague, Elfwine was left to decide between his brother and his friends.

Giving up on his latest attempt to engage Elboron in conversation - about the weather of all things! – Elfwine left the two spirit-brothers alone. As he closed the door to Eldarion's room, Elfwine rested his head against the wood and took a shuddering breath as he felt the backs of his eyes burn with tears that demanded to be released. He started when he heard boots scuff against the stone flagged floor. Turning sharply he caught sight of Eledher, who looked like a rabbit caught in the beam of a hunter's lamp at having been discovered.

"Where have you been?" asked Elfwine as he walked up to his brother and pulled Eledher to him. He couldn't help but be thankful that it was Eldarion who lay injured and dying because it meant that his baby brother was still hale, even if he wasn't healthy. He would never say that to anyone, hating himself for even thinking it, but as hot-headed and frustrating as Eledher could be, he was still Elfwine's blood.

Eledher tensed when Elfwine's arms settled around him, his mind preparing his body for either flight or fight. Unable to bear the affection that was being bestowed upon him, Eledher forced himself away and ducked his head, becoming fixated with the hilt of the hunting knife at Elfwine's hip. Elfwine was a little surprised by Eledher's reaction.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" tried Elfwine just needing his brother to speak.

"I do not wish to see the hatred in your eyes when you look at me," replied Eledher. Elfwine's eyebrow rose.

"Why would I hate you?"

"My foolish behaviour resulted in Prince Eldarion being shot," said Eledher, still speaking to his brother's knife hilt. "Four times!"

"Since when did you call him Prince Eldarion?" said Elfwine his eyebrow disappearing into his fringe. Eledher was hurting more than he was willing to let on and Elfwine was determined that one of his companions was going to at least begin to recover that day. Eledher offered no response to the question.

"Let me go," he whispered. "I will trouble you no more."

"Oh no, you are going to tell me what is going on in that head of yours," replied Elfwine, slinging an arm around Eledher's shoulder and leading him outside, ignoring any protests from the younger man.

Once Elfwine had left the room, Elboron, who had previously sitting in a seat beside Eldarion's bed, moved until he was laying beside the younger man, resting his head on the uninjured shoulder.

"Fight Eldarion!" he muttered, resting his arm lightly over Eldarion's chest and burying his head as best his could in Eldarion's unbound shoulder.

Hurts, thought Eldarion, sending a message through their weakened barriers as he stirred. Elboron started. The mentally spoken comment was the first sign of communication that Eldarion had shown since he had passed out the afternoon they had returned to Edoras. True he had begun to respond them but it was more comforting to hear Eldarion's voice, even if it was in his head, than to have he move somewhat involuntary.

"I know is does, but this is not the first arrow wound you have suffered," replied Elboron, turning his head.

Not what I mean, said Eldarion as his eyes cracked open. His voice quiet and distant, as though he was communicating with Elboron from several metres away rather than a few centimetres. Feel your anger. Your panic. Heart aches with it.

Elboron took a few moments to process what he was being told. Realisation seemed to hit him like an icy shower.

"I am hampering your recovery!" he exclaimed, sitting up sharply. Eldarion blinked the remainder of sleep from his eyes and looked pleadingly at Elboron.

Partially. Forgive Eledher.

"That is easier said than done," murmured Elboron, reaching forward and brushing his finger tips across the tattoo that adorned the cusp of Eldarion's shoulder. It was a unique design and symbolised Eldarion's multicultural heritage. The White Tree of Gondor was superimposed over the Star of the Rangers, symbolising his realm of Gondor and Arnor, while four leaves of Lothlórien jutted out from the connecting lines of the star – a homage to the Elves. Elboron and Elfwine similarly had a cultural tattoo on their respective right shoulders. Elboron had a horse stretched in full gallop overlaying the White Tree, while Elfwine also had a horse which had been cleverly manipulated to meld into the Swan of Dol Amroth.

"If he wasn't in that battle you wouldn't have fallen!"

Eldarion, shook his head slightly. Can't know that, he said. Don't use a shield and arrows were flying. Could still have been taken down.

"And you may not have been," retorted Elboron.

Past cannot be changed, Eldarion said, his voice smaller than it had been seconds before, and he groped for Elboron's hand in an attempt to remain in his mind for just a few more seconds to make his plea. Make peace with Eledher.

"I do not wish to leave your side," whispered Elboron, returning the grip on Eldarion's hand. Eldarion gave a small smile as his eyes drifted shut once more.

Go!

Their mental connection severed and Elboron blinked. He knew Eldarion spoke the truth but so did he. It was easier to blame Eledher for his current condition than to accept that Eldarion had voluntarily ended up in this state. Inhaling deeply, Elboron leant forward and pressed a kiss to Eldarion's forehead.

"I will do as you bid," he whispered against the skin. He jerked his head up when he heard the door open. Díorn stood in the doorway, looking awful. The albino Adjutant was really not coping well with Eldarion's injuries but in the opposite of Elboron, who was blaming everyone else, Díorn was blaming himself. Yes, being an Adjutant meant that he was responsible for advising Eldarion the Field-Captain, but he was also responsible for the safety of Eldarion the Prince, having been officially appointed his bodyguard (regardless of Eldarion's protestations against such a move) four years previous.

Elboron gave him weak smile. "He is waking up," he said and was pleased to see a small spark flicker in Díorn's eye, even if it was extinguished seconds later. "Sit with him and talk to him. He might give you a response."

"Where are you going?" asked Díorn, not wanting Elboron to leave because of him.

"I have to speak to my cousin."

A/N; I think the first translation is right. If it isn't please let me know and I will change it.