I am back! I know I haven't updated for years upon years, but I'm back. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait.
Thankyou for Viresse for helping me with this fic. You rock. Hopefully I put your advice to good use.
But I still love all my reviwers! How couldn't I? You all put significance in my lonely life :)
'My dreams Elrohir. My dreams'. The ranger, scuttled forward and rose from the bed, wobbling slightly. He looked down at the Elf, who knelt with a look of pure confusion and loss. Slowly his head shook.
'Slow down Estel'. Elrohir eased himself upwards before continuing, 'your dreams? Do you know what the words meant?'
Simply nodding, Aragorn stepped forward, making it for the door. Before he could make his second step, a sharp tug on his arm told him otherwise. A commanding voice broke through the silence. 'What do you think you are doing?'
'Well I thought I'd save my breathe. Instead of telling what I saw, which could be of some help, twice, maybe telling it to everyone would be a good idea'.
Elrohir just threw up his arms and stood back. 'Fine, it's not like I could stop you anyway'. Grinning and flashing his teeth in a mocking grin, Aragorn walked off unsteadily. A firm grip on the back of his shirt, caught the ranger before he could fall to the floor, after tripping over his own two feet.
'You can go. Only if I help you, brother dear'. Merely shrugging and silently accepting the help, Elrohir was allowed to hook his arm under Estel's and together they made their way out and down.
Bounding down the stairs, Rivendell's Lord appeared at the doorway and frantically looked around. In one corner, Elrohir's accumulated books haphazardly lay, in the other, a few candles burnt. What seemed more worrying was that he could hear his daughter but from where he stood, he couldn't see no-one.
Jogging forward, he peered over the bed post setting concerned eyes on two figures. Arwen's head rose and trepidation shone brightly in her shimmering eyes. Without question or answer, Elrond scooped the limp body of his son up, spun once and considering the mess of the bed, quickly but softly called Arwen to move all the books of the table and to retrieve clean sheets and his supplies.
The she-elf did as such, and without second look or thought, ran from the room.
Lying his son down on the table, immediately regretting how uncomfortable his son must be feeling right now. 'If he's feeling at all'. Quickly dismissing such thoughts from his head Elrond got to work. Tearing Elladan's shirt open, confirming his fears. The trail of ivy coloured poison had stopped just above the immortals heart. Usually things that did that by themselves did not bode to well whatsoever.
Forcibly moving his stunned body, Elrond's healer façade overtook his fatherly one. Checking for a pulse, and feeling his heart sink to the bottom of stomach when he couldn't feel no trace. He tried to calm his frantic mind. Placing an ear over the parted mouth of Elladan, he tried to listen for some sort of breathing. Seconds raced past, and even with his superior hearing nothing was making itself known.
Stepping back and shaking is head in disbelief, Elrond's barrier of emotions fell, and with it his tears and hope did too.
'Give me a reason to believe that you are gone. I pledged an oath'.
Convincing himself again, Elrond began to battle the shadows calling for his son. Pushing clasped hands down on Elladan's naked chest a couple of times, then pausing to breathe into his mouth. Soon repeating the process over and over. Elrond tried to keep all hopes of reviving his son. Ignoring the sunlight that cut though into the room, highlighting everything in a golden burn, he went over everything in his mind.
Minutes dragged on, eating the silence. The suns rays heating the room temporarily. The Lord began to feel the consequences of no sleep and worry. The sensation coursed throughout his body, persuading for him to stop and rest. His movements were becoming slow and lax. 'Not now, don't slow'.
Shaking feeling back into his arm, after his slow and agonising descent to the stairs, Aragorn leant on the wall, regretting of suggesting such a thing. He looked over to Elrohir, and was slightly disturbed at what he saw.
The Elf's eyes were wide, staring into nothing, gaze set. Blank and unblinking. Easing away from the wall, the ranger made his way over, confused. His steps were quickly backtracked when Elrohir broke from his trace, and crumpled towards the floor, clutching his chest. A drawn out groan of agony broke through his clenched teeth. His eyes were locked shut against the pain.
Immediately drawing conclusions that his brother was severely injured, with renewed strength, Aragorn bent down, pulling the Elf from his defensive curl, so he could get a better look. On inspection, nothing was wrong. No blood, no wound, no nothing.
In the middle of his second look, Elrohir's head rose, and his sorrowful and lost eyes met the ranger's. He was paler than usual, and something seemed as if it was missing. There was no glint of life to his face, no shine to his brother's eyes. He had either foreseen something, which never happened or…
'Elrohir, what?'
To his surprise, Elrohir smiled and gave a short sigh. His eyes watered, and after a fashion the Elf began to chuckle to himself. Answering the bewildered and scared look of his brother, Elrohir squeakily answered, 'I can feel him, Estel. The connection, it's back. That means…'.
The young Elf Lord, quickly stood, and motioned to his back. 'Come, you are far too ill just to keep walking. I let you go this far. Now…'. The ranger humpfed and shared a look of mocking annoyance with his brother, before wrapping his arms around the Elf's neck and hooking his legs around Elrohir's waist. Assured his brother was set, Elrohir rose from his slight crouched position, hooking his arms around his brother's legs for more assurance, then set off to his brother's room.
Smiling to himself, and giving as much strength and warmth as he cold to his twin, he saw that there will be light at the end of this tunnel.
Cold hands. An icy chill. 'So this is what it's like to die'. His shock into reality, and drained Elladan of the energy he had been holding into. Then everything had gone dark once again, and this time, he could feel the pull of darkness more than ever. Summoning him to world from which he could never return to.
A veil of black was draped over his surrounds, effectively blinding him. Even though coldness gripped him, he felt no pain, no distress. He didn't have to wait for agonising hours for his fate to be decided. This was his fate. He knew it was selfish, but he had decided that now he had lived protecting what meant the world to him, and now causing unlimited amounts of grief and turmoil for his family, life wasn't much of a thrill no more.
But one thing that nagged at him was not saying goodbye. 'Goodbye, to Ada, to 'Ro, to everyone.' Having second thoughts on his decision, he tried to turn around, but felt being pulled forward unable to go back. Realising what pain he was causing, he screamed at himself.
Frosty, invisible hands, hauled at the Elf's limbs, pulling him deeper into the darkness. The light getting smaller and unrecognisable.
Fighting his invisible assailants, but found no relief, he cursed himself and wished he had thought things through. Something he had thought himself unable to do in such a frozen place happened. He managed to let two silvery tears slip free, before other worldly forces beckoned him down.
Before his descent was complete, a warm hand pulled on his arm, and with it the light got larger and more welcoming. His peace was short lived however, as the chill escalated once more, capturing the Elf between two thoughts.
Believe more, believe into what you want. Think young one. Think.
The voice entering his head seemed sure and peaceful. As he played it over and over in his head, he began to think he recognised it. Taking the advice, he thought of home once again. Of annoying Elrond, chasing his brothers, comforting Arwen, beating Glorfindel at horse play, sparring with his friends, of the fair kitchen maid he had taken a liking to. Memories flooded his senses, he opened up and let everything in, and everything out.
The aura of light ahead of him shone brighter than ever. Covering his eyes with his arm, he suddenly felt the warm hand free itself from his arm. Spinning on distress, he sought the thing that drove him back to what he really wanted. He was confronted with a misty hand, soft, regal, feminine. It was outstretched, offering a lifeline. Following the hand upwards, he eyes met a figure whom he thought he would never see.
Her hair trailed down her back, midnight coloured, spilling forward. Deep blue eyes, full of wisdom and care greeted him. Creamy cheeks flushed with a rose red. Her lips were full and poised. She smiled gently down at the gaping figure before her.
Reaching out for his hand, and clasping his hand in hers, she stepped forward, bent low and whispered gently into his pointed ear. 'Not yet, my son. Not yet'. She stepped back once again, her warm hands still enveloping her son's. She drew one away, and pointed to a silver shape on his chest. 'You kept your promise. Now, remember who has the second half and do not shut him purposely out.'. Elladan's surprised look caused the female to chuckle. 'I am still your mother and I know these things. Now, go, help you father live up to his promise'.
Elladan opened his mouth in need to ask something. But a silken finger at his lips halted his voice. She smiled gently, lovingly. Then slowly she withdrew both her hands, and nodded. Confused as Elladan felt himself falling, the figure of his mother fading into the darkness, her glowing form melting into the emptiness, never to be seen again. A caressing warmth brushed past his air once more and a heavenly voice breathed, 'I'll always be with you. I love you. Now go.'
Contemplating on the words, Elladan, renewed his link with his brother, letting him in. His mother was right. Purposely shutting 'Ro out, making sure he didn't help, wasn't helping 'Ro none. Satisfied when he felt the strength coming from his brother, he felt the warmth of light increase.
He wasn't prepared for the harsh awakening though.
A mix of feelings and events happened in a few seconds. Elrond was falling into the tiredness and gripping failure of his expenditure. He was even more confused, slightly irritated when Elrohir and Aragorn turned up at the doorway, then a rush of adrenaline, joy, relief and shock surged through him when Elladan's chest heaved upwards, and he began to cough, turning to his side.
But one thing that worried him was the time Arwen was taking.
He quickly jumped to action, rubbing his sons back, helping him cough and offering him support. Elrohir dashed forward, after depositing Aragorn in an armchair. Eyes batting out salty liquid, his hands rushing upwards to meet those of his brother's, surprised at their warmth.
After his coughing fit, everything lay still. The occupants of the room held their breathes, hoping for the miracle of Elladan staying awake for a little while longer. Their prayers were answered.
Looking on from his sitting position, Aragorn smiled, exasperated that his brother was finally awake. Not having seen him, thinking he was dead, for a good part of the week. He watched as Elrond carefully, brought Elladan upwards into his waiting arms, hugging him tenderly, breathing in disbelief and wonder. Too joyous to cry, to say anything.
He watched as Elrohir got up from his crouched position and climbed up onto the solid oak table, settling himself behind his brother, wrapping his arms around Elladan's waist, holding him close. Enjoying the happiness, warmth and support the hug rendered.
Elrohir shook his head in fathomed mystery, tears spilling over, falling into the hair of his brother. He could feel his brother smile in front of him even though he couldn't see him. 'Welcome back. Just stay back okay?'
Not thinking his brother would reply, Elrohir was amazed when his brothers voice broke into his mind. 'You can't get rid of me that easily'.
Disappearing into Elladan's comfort, Elrohir glanced at Estel perched in his chair, chin resting in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Pulling on hand away from his brother, Elrohir beckoned Aragorn over in a mild gesture.
Not needing another telling to, Aragorn simply limped over, and managed to sit on the edge of the table, a space where Elrohir had left for him. There they stayed for a while. Amazed at the new turn of the tide. That was until a hoarse pained voice ate into the silence.
'Ada, I… I'm burning… on the… inside'.
Instantly shocked by the sudden outburst, Elrond stepped back and viewed his ailing son at arm's length. Chastising himself for being so careless and letting his feelings take hold of him, he took on the healer façade once more.
'Elrohir, find more out about that coin of Aragorn's. As for you my youngest. We have much to talk about'. Everyone nodded on impulse, and taking one more glance at their awakened brother, afraid that this was all just a dream, that they were soon to wake from, they turned from Elladan, leaving him in their father's care, and got to work.
Elrohir helped Aragorn off the table, leading him once more to the chair near the bed, as Elrond settled Elladan in the large armchair, continuously apologising for the change. Elladan shook his head, still not used to his voice and rather weary of his broken speech.
With everyone settled was when Elrond could act on Arwen's disappearance. Summoning a few maids of the house, he asked them to search for her, and ask others to search too. He was overly concerned, but showing this to the rest of his family would prove to be a problem, especially with the over protective son of his finally awake.
The twins were sat together, Elladan was resting on his brother's shoulder, lying in new clothing and thick blanket, fighting the inevitable poison inside him silently. Elrohir sat with his legs crossed under the blanket also, thankful of the light of sun behind him. He occasionally glanced over at his brother, making sure all was okay… for the moment.
Opposite, two armchairs were drawn up, side by side, a Lord in one and A Ranger of The North in another.
Comforting himself that Arwen would be fine, as she was old enough to look after herself, Elrond listened to Aragorn's dream, while Elrohir searched for the page he had found earlier.
When the ranger had finished, he thought on it.
'Now, you spoke of some strange creature being experimented on. Elrohir tell me, what were the creatures like who attacked you in the woods?'
Looking up from his book, and closing his eyes for a few seconds, making the wolf like creature reappear in his mind sight, he answered, 'Large, much larger than any ordinary wolf, or warg for that matter. Very much like the thing Aragorn has just described'.
Inside Elrond's mind it clicked. 'Are you sure? If you are, I may have found our mystery poison'.
Elrohir beamed from over the edge of his book and turned the book around, showing the page he had just found, pointing to his relocated information. 'And I've just found out all about that mysterious coin of ours'.
Overwhelmed in new found hope, Elladan spoke 'So… there's chance I… could survive?' Concerned, Elrond nodded and quickly adding,
'Yes, of course, but why the could Elladan?'
The Elf in question glanced down and sheepishly answered, 'I don't think… I can… hold on… for much longer, Ada'.
Everyone blanched at Elladan's blunt answer. Their new found hope couldn't possibly taken from them so soon. Quickly composing himself, Elrond asked Elrohir for the information on the ancient coin.
Kicking himself out of his daze, eyes transfixed on his brother, he responded to his father's request. 'Firstly it explains pretty much what I told your earlier, this person responsible for the making of this coin, devised such things for the greater good or the greater evil. Named the Black or Shadow Alchemist because of his secret powers, he would craft things by himself, alone in his den, where the Misty Mountains lie. Now it was around the first age, was when this coin was forged. It says here that it's named the 'Purist'. So I suppose this Alchemist has been around for quite a while.
When rumour spread of the 'Purist' and its alleged powers of healing and reviving, people of all sort of races would search for the Black Alchemist and his creations. Many people met their death trying to search for this man. But, what it says here, I would have preferred to die in the Misty Mountains. When encountering the Alchemist, you were studied by him and there he would approve of your worthiness and power to absorb the 'Purist's' power. If you weren't good enough for him, he'd painstakingly kill you with a morphing potion he had. It was a poison which took hold of the body, and depending on which race you were depended on how someone would react to it.
Now, this potion was supposedly loaned to the Dark Lord himself so he could breed a new malice. Whether that's true or not I don't know. But, within the last 500 years, the Alchemist disappeared along with the 'Purist'. According to these records here, the Alchemist was hunted down by the followers of the Dark Lord, after his displease with the potion, apparently it didn't work as effectively as he had hoped. The Alchemist's soul was encased in this here coin, ready to judge all those who dared to use it.
This is where Estel's random Elvish comes in. The words he spoke were the ones to call upon the powers of the 'Purist' and heal those in need of healing.' Elrohir looked up from his reading and shrugged, 'That's all it says here. That's all I could find Ada'.
Elrond nodded. 'Now, some of what is written there is clear. To the best of my knowledge, there was a breed of wolves, before the wargs were ever devised. Some have called them the 'Shariks'. The Dark Lord wanted to scare the rest of Middle Earth into submission, so a new breed of monster was created.
He used a transformation potion of some sort, probably the one form the Alchemist, Elrohir. The Dark Lord had wanted a creature so powerful, he had tried to get the creature to be compatible with a poison of some kind.
But after many tries, the experiment failed. The mutation got out of hand, some wolves growing to three times their height, and ten times their original strength. The creatures escaped into the surrounding areas, never to be seen again. The Dark Lord had wanted a creature so powerful, he had tried
He smirked at Elladan before continuing on with his story, 'And it has to be my son here who finds them after all these years. If I am correct, the poison and the mutation must have combined in the creatures bodies, to create their own injectible poison. As it may seem the same way as a snake or a spider. As proven with you Elrohir. You were attacked with the creatures claws, yes? But Elladan was bitten. Hence, him being infected and you not'.
He let his children digest this information, before putting on a grim look and glancing to each of his sons individually, gaze settling onto his eldest. 'As it may seem, I have not been able to recover the antidote to the poison of the Sharik bite'. As the hopeful face of Elladan fell, he reassured everyone. 'But, there doesn't mean there isn't one. I haven't truly looked hard enough, as to my knowledge there has been only one incident with the Sharik bites from then until now'.
Elrond glanced over at Elladan, and watched as Elrohir drew his brother closer, comforting him. Elladan's stormy, grey eyes shut for a few minutes, and re-opened slightly blood shot and sore. Not haven't looked at him so deeply for a long time, Elrond could see how the poison has drained his light from his body. Dark rings of tiredness clung underneath his eyes, looking as if Elladan was wearing a considerable amount of smudged eyeliner.
His skin had a greyish tinge to it, his smile, or smirk had faded into a deep frown. His lips were red from the dried blood. The only colour which seemed to be existent at this moment. But what scared the father even more was the silvery line which passed over his son's eye, leaving a slight gap in his eye brows, where the hair failed to grow back. His Elvish inheritance had speeded up the healing, but with the poor condition of his immune system, it hadn't healed up perfectly well. 'I hope he doesn't mind.'
Elrond looked away and awkwardly swallowed, feeling partly responsible for Elladan's poor condition. He politely excused himself, rubbing at his tried eyes. 'I shall be in the library searching, should anyone need me. Should anything change in Elladan's condition I want to now immediately'.
He left the brothers alone, taking a left to find out where the maids had gotten to, searching for Arwen, instead of a right to the library.
Back in the room, Elladan huddled next to his brother, and managed a weak smile when Estel looked over. He shifted, so he was in an upright position, batting away his brother's concerned hands. With a cocky flick to his head, he summoned Estel over.
The mortal walked over rigidly. This was the first time he had really seen Elladan since the commotion in the woods. Sitting down, still afraid in some senses, he only relaxed when his brother drew him into both his arms in a tight and strong embrace.
'Never scare me like that again, Estel, okay?' Elladan pulled away and Estel mentally mourned for the loss of heat and reassurance. Elladan shuffled back into Elrohir's opened arms, winked at his twin in an unspoken jest, which Elrohir could only hear, and lightly dozed.
Estel thought for a few moments, looking between both of his brothers, 'Truly there is a light at the end of the tunnel'.
Though at the end of Arwen's tunnel it was darker than the depths of Hell.
Okay, so what do you people think? Just clikc the little review button and tell me. Not the best of chapters I know.