Chapter 3: Aftermath
Elladan knelt at his brother's side as he gently closed Arathorn's eyes. Elladan had seen Gilraen go down before his arrow could kill her foe, and he had yet to go to her side. Instead, he had returned to his twin who was carefully tending her dead husband. All around them, the rangers who were still standing were carefully checked each of their fallen comrades to see if death had already come or if they could be spared.
"The chieftain is gone, but where is the heir?" Elrohir's soft voice could only be heard by the sharp hearing of an elf. Gilraen and Arathorn were both accounted for, but neither had seen the young edain twins.
Swiftly, Elrohir rose to his feet, glancing around the glade as he did so. Maybe one of the rangers knew of the whereabouts of the wayward children, or at least that is what he was hoping. Elladan rose more slowly, something was nagging at the back of his mind. When he'd seen Gilraen during the battle, something red had got his eye, a glint in the evening sun. Gilraen had true black hair and was wearing clothes that were dyed nearly as black, so nothing red could have glint off of that. But maybe…spinning on his heal, Elladan turned toward the edge of the field, ignoring the startled look from his twin as he went from complete stillness into swift action. As he approached the still body of Gilraen, he dropped to his knees and gently rolled the orc off of her. Her black clothes shone damply in the pale moonlight, black blood mixing with her own life blood to form an eerie oil on her shirt and breeches. After removing the scimitar from her body, Elladan gently reached over and placed his hands on her shoulders. He hesitated to roll her over, slightly fearful to see the full extent of the damage that had been wrecked on her body, despite trained warriors being no more than ten feet away.
He took a deep breath, looking up at the stars for comfort before glancing back down. Just as he was starting to roll her over, he noticed a pudgy hand poking out from under her body. With a startled gasp, he realized that he had found at least one of the children. Looking closer, he saw ropes winding around Gilraen's back and shoulders, acting as a double harness. It was a way to carry the children that Elladan had seen many times.
Elrohir, drawn by Elladan's gasp, appeared behind his brother, many of the rangers not far behind.
"What is it 'Dan?"
"'Ro, look!" Elladan was still trying to get his shock under control and could only draw his brother's attention to the small hand that was visible. Gilraen knew that danger was coming, and had fled with both children, but she had ran straight into battle. 'Oh, Valar, what was she thinking? The twins, are they alright, the last heirs to Gondor may now lay dead, and 'Ro and I, not ten feet away... .'
"'Dan, help me lift her. Aragorn, Arrowlan, they may yet live." Broken out of his litany of worry, he glanced down at his hands, still on Gilraen's shoulders, and nodded. Shifting slightly, he allowed his brother room to crouch next to him and to support half of her weight. Trying not to jostle the precious bundle that was concealed under Gilraen's body, the twins gently shifted her over. There, still fitted snuggly in the harness, were Aragorn and Arrowlan, and, to the twins' relive, both of their little chests were still rising up and down, valiantly trying to draw breathe. Both of them were covered in Gilraen's blood, with intermittent splatters of orc blood. With shaking fingers, Elladan reached down and gently touched the top of Arrowlan's dark hair.
"The red…" Elladan's voice choked into a sob.
"Red, what red? Elladan, calm down, what are you talking about?" Elrohir had been assessing Aragorn's condition, the healer side in him taking over naturally; however, his brother's strangled sob had reached his ears, causing him to glance up sharply.
"The red, I saw a glint of red in the brush, that is how I saw Gilraen. But I didn't know what the red was. It was Arrowlan, the red in her hair, it caught the twilight sun. She showed me they were there, I should have known that the children were sitting right there, in battle. Valar, 'Ro, they saw both their parents die, I should have done something!"
"Well, the past is the past, you can't change that, but you can help fix the future, so calm down and start putting two thousand years of healing experience to good use!" As much as he hated to be short with his brother, Elrohir could see that not all of the blood covering Arrowlan was her mother's, also there was the question of why the girl was unconscious when she didn't appear to have a head wound.
Elladan worried his lip a little bit, shame written across his features, but he nodded and bent over the precious bundle in his arms. Twigs and leaves clung to Arrowlan's clothes and hair, tiny scratches running across all bare skin, a remnant of the headlong dash through the woods. Gently tucking her hair behind one ear, Elladan gently brushed her forehead, only to pull away sharply. Her face burned and her cheeks were flushed with fever. Fearfully, Elladan began to examine her more closely, when finally he found the wound on her small hand. The scimitar had not cut deeply, but it was jagged and dirt had become imbedded in the cut. His sharp eyes could just pick out the swollen, angry skin surrounding the cut, with deft fingers he prodded the area, only to have Arrowlan pull away with a whimper.
"Elrohir, she has an infected cut on her hand, it looks like that orc cut her too. She burns with fever." At his brother's voice, Elrohir sighed. Behind the words, worry and self-condemnation were laced heavily through the tone.
"Come, we need to move them. Aragorn fares better than his sister, but he will still need our aid. Some of the rangers have made camp, we can tend them there." Both twins stood, brushing off some of the dirt. Carefully, both of them picked up their precious bundle, Elladan tucking Arrowlan into the loosened folds of his tunic, while Elrohir wrapped Aragorn in his cloak.
Even in the dark, the two elves were able to carefully pick their way through the dense woods toward the light and sound of the temporary ranger camp. Normally on such a night, the sound a party would be heard, gay stories shared, and a general good feeling spread around those at the fire. Not this night. A fire still blazed in the center of the camp, lighting the whole area, however, even it seemed more subdued. All around the fire, the rangers in the best health cared for those who were injured. The dead would be burned in the morning, after the most serious wounds were tended. Instead of roasting meat, the fire held pots with boiling water and clean linens, awaiting a person in need of more.
As the twins picked their way into camp, two sentries stopped them, but as soon as the tired rangers realized who they were, the twins were waved through. The rangers immediately stood, a few who were tending those who were less injured, came and greeted the two who so often helped their people.
"Elladan, Elrohir, we thank you for helping us in this time." Thorhael, kinsman of Gilraen stepped forward, placing one hand on his chest before sweeping it to the side in the elvish manner. "You're skills are greatly needed here, many of the men who are still well are eager to chase the final orcs in the band, for it is believed that they hold Arathorn's children."
"If it is children you seek, may your search end with us. We bear both twins; however, they are in need of healing. Also, your men look as if they could use sleep; send most of them to their rest. The remaining can tend the fallen." Elladan spoke soothingly, with just a hint of command in his voice, even though he knew he had no right to command these men. However, his thousands of years in the field lent him a vast knowledge on how to handle all sorts of outcomes from battle, and with the loss of their Chieftain the Dunedain were in near shock and any sort of leadership would be welcome.
Thorhael's eyes grew wide as he looked down at the two dark heads nestled in the elves' arms. Almost reverently, he stretched out a hand and settled it on Aragorn's head. When he pulled his hand away, it was sticky with blood. Grimacing slightly, he glanced back at the twins.
"You may use any of our supplies." Turning, Thorhael gestured toward the fire; there was one small place that did not have a ranger already laying in it. "There is a spot there, in the light and near clean water and bandages. If you are in need of anything, ask, one of the men will know if we have it or not. Be warned, however, many of our supplies were at the encampment, so there is not much there."
"Hannon lle, Thorhael." Elladan was on his way toward the indicated location before Thorhael had even finished talking. Arrowlan had begun to shiver violently in his arms, and he was tired of standing around and talking. He wanted to tend her and her twin's wounds, not talk about it. Settling on the patch of dirt, Elladan removed his cloak and settled it on the ground before laying Arrowlan on top of it. Next to him, Elrohir was doing the same for Aragorn.
Around the two sets of twins, the rangers went about their business, occasionally glancing toward the elves, but they had too many of their own to tend to worry about the young children of their late Chieftain. As Elladan stripped of Arrowlan's dirty dress that she had been wearing, hi face turned into a grimace. Grime clung to her skin, and red inflamed cuts covered her arms and legs from twigs. Dirt had rubbed into them, along with black blood from the orc, causing many of them to become infected. Gently, he took a clean cloth from one of the pots of water and began to wash her, his heart nearly breaking when the young girl whimpered and tried to shy away. At the slight sound, Aragorn seemed to wake slightly, just enough to try to reach his sister. When his hand contacted only air, he cried out softly. The elven twins glanced at each other before shifting the two edain closer to each other. The moment that Aragorn's hand touched his twin's, they both settled quietly.
Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other, they had always known when the other was injured and had needed to be near the other, the mere presence being a comfort, although they didn't think that edain could possibly feel that same connection, even if they were twins. Shrugging, they both went back to tending their tiny patients. Elrohir was the first to break the companionable silence.
"I need to stitch Aragorn's lip and head wounds; I just wish that I had some of ada's tea. The rangers have no sedatives left, so I guess you will have to hold him still. I just hope he doesn't wake."
"The little guy is stronger than he looks; besides, Arrowlan's hand is going to need draining and stitches, so you will get your chance to try to keep one calm."
"I don't think it's going to be just one," Elrohir's voice was grim and eyes serious. If he was right, he and his twin would be trying to figure out how to hold down two very squirmy, injured kids who would probably start crying long and loud from the pain, "I think that they have a bond, like ours. They know that the other is injured, may even feel the pain…"
"…so, both will be acting like they are having stitches. I got it, this will be interesting." Elladan's voice was dry, despite his own serious expression. "Let's just get this done with."
Elrohir nodded, and reached into a pack that one of the rangers had set near him while he and his brother cleaned the twins. Pulling out a long needle, he quickly ran it through the fire and threaded it. Nodding once to his twin, who carefully arranged both twins in his lap, ensuring that they still touched, Elrohir leaned forward and deftly began sewing up Aragorn's head wound. As predicted, Aragorn almost flew off Elladan's lap, silver eyes opening wide, staring straight into Elrohir's blue ones. At the movement, Arrowlan cried out and tried to reach her brother. Elladan pulled them both tighter, trying to calm them.
"Shhh, little ones. All is well, you are safe, shhh," the soft elvish words flowed over the twins and calmed them. Quickly, Elrohir finished of the head wound, snapping the thread with his teeth before turning his attention to Aragorn's lip.
"Well, no matter how I sew this one, you will have a scar for all the ladies to admire when you are older." Elrohir added his own soft voice to his brother's, a hint of humor laced through the quiet words. As soon as both wounds were stitched, Elrohir wrapped Aragorn's head in bandages and leaned over brushing his lips against the mop of unruly hair. Aragorn's eyes opened at the soft brush.
"Who a' you?" The slurred voice made Elrohir smile.
"My name is Elrohir, I was friends with your father, little one."
"Why a' t'ere two o' you?"
This time it was Elladan who smiled, pulling the small body into a hug, "There aren't, I am Elladan, we are twins, like you and your sister, only we look alike."
"Awow'an? She hurt." The statement was spoken with some fear, as the boy became more alert.
"Don't worry; we are going to make her feel better, alright? But first, we have to do something that might hurt her a little bit," Elrohir tried to calm the boy, as Elladan shifted both of the little bodies into his arms, so that he could stretch out his arms and prepare the knife for Arrowlan's hand.
"But you make her better?"
"Yes, little one, we will. And you know what? You can help." Elrohir needed something that would keep the boy occupied so that he wouldn't start moving around while Elladan cut her hand to drain the wound. "I need you to talk to her, tell her all of the fun stuff you two are going to do when your hurts are healed. Can you do that for me?"
"Uh-huh," Pewter eyes looked back at Elrohir, seriousness stamped across them, nearly causing Elrohir to smile. Such a loving young boy, willing to do anything for the one he loved.
"'Ro, I'm ready." Elladan had reappeared in front his twin and the children while Elrohir talked. In his hand was a hot knife, while a clean needle lay threaded nearby. A kettle of water with cloths and bandages were settled in front of Elrohir's feet.
Elrohir quickly shifted the two children so that he could hold them both firmly, while Elladan gently took Arrowlan's small, chubby hand in his much larger slender one. Elrohir whispered something to Aragorn, and the little boy started talking an instant before the hot knife made contact with his sister's hand.
Arrowlan's eyes snapped open, her body stiffening, and mouth opening as if to scream but no sound came out. For the first time that night, Elladan saw her eyes, they glowed in the flickering fire light, the deep blue was the color of the evening sky, just as the sun set. Elladan's breathe hitched, even as his hand remained steady. Those eyes, they were filled with pain, both from her wound and from the deep sorrow of seeing her parents die. Next to her, Aragorn's voice had faltered for a second, but Elrohir's calming hand kept him talking. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, Arrowlan calmed, her eyes closing again, dark lashes settling against fever flushed cheeks. Elladan quickly finished draining the wound, cleaning all the remaining pus with the clean cloth, before stitching the wound closed. As soon as he was done, he scooped her into his arms and held her close, whispering softly into her hair.
In Elrohir's lap, Aragorn's eyes had also slid shut, exhausted from the long day and trauma that had occurred. As soon as Elrohir felt the boy's body relax in sleep, he carefully set him on the cloak, wrapping him tightly. Standing, he turned toward his brother who was using cool cloths on Arrowlan's forehead to try to bring her fever down.
"If her fever won't drop, we should bring her to ada." Elladan's voice startled Elrohir; Elladan had been so intent on the girl, that he was sure that 'Dan wouldn't notice him.
"Many of these rangers could use ada's skill; one of us should ride for Imladris in the morning, and bring back a patrol to help the rangers back. Ada and his healers could care for them, and supplies could be distributed to supplement their own waning resources."
"Aye, 'Ro, what will happen to Arrowlan and Aragorn?"
Elrohir sighed, and dropped nearly bonelessly to the ground, where he arranged himself comfortably, leaning back on his elbows. "I don't know, maybe one of the rangers will take them, although to tell you the truth, with Arathorn dead, I feel that Isildur's final heirs should be better protected. The Wild is no place for such young children."
"I wonder…"
"'Dan, stop. Ada won't take them in, at least not permanently. Living with the descendants of Elros, it will just make him withdraw further, you know that. He will always shelter the rangers, but even with those whose bloodlines are diluted, his eyes become shadowed. Please drop it." Elrohir cut his brother off before he hardly got started. He, too, wanted these two precious children with them, in Imladris, maybe even as their foster siblings, but Lord Elrond had barely been able to look at Arathorn, the pain was ever there. Ever since Celebrain had left, the pain at seeing his twin's descendants pained him even further. No longer could he take comfort from his loving wife, instead he withdrew, caring only to run his home and shelter those in need. The loving father the twins had known was replaced by a stern, if kindly, ruler. As much as Elrohir hated to admit it, neither he nor his twin truly knew their father anymore, but he doubted that the way to draw Lord Elrond out of his shell was by bringing in two young edain children. Of course, his brother had also withdrawn after the departure of their beloved mother, this was the first time in many centuries that Elladan had allowed his emotions to show, much less let them rule his thought in any way; maybe these children were special.
"Well, either way, he is going to see a lot of rangers come through that gate tomorrow, no matter how much it pains him," Elladan's voice was firm even as he gently laid Arrowlan next to her twin. Her fever had dropped slightly, although it was still alarmingly high, and 'Dan worried that there had been poison on the blade. Arrowlan shivered slightly at the loss of heat and curled next to her brother, seeking comfort even in sleep. Elladan quickly lay down next to her, wrapping himself around her. Her little hand immediately darted out from the folds of the cloak that enfolded her, only to wrap around Elladan's tunic.
"Come and rest, gwandur nin. We will need to ride early on the morrow, if we hope to send a patrol back to guide the rangers to Imladris." Elladan's voice held a smile behind it, even as he commanded his brother to do his bidding. Elrohir chuckled before imitating his brother and curling around Aragorn's compact body. Reaching across the two sleeping bodies between them, Elrohir clasped Elladan's hand, seeking the reassurance of having his own twin near. Smiling at the memory of his brother's wistful voice at the thought of having two youngsters around, his eyes slowly unfocused and he lost himself to elven dreams.
Aragon's eyes opened as soon as the sun touched his face. He normally hated being awake this early, but something nearby had woken him. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes with the back of pudgy hands. Hearing a sound next to him, he blinked a few times and focused in on one of the dark haired elves standing in front of him. He wasn't sure which one it was, they were too much alike.
"Good morning, little one. Are you hungry?" Elrohir smiled down at the young boy. As soon as Elladan had risen and removed Arrowlan from the nest of clothing that was serving as a bed, he had waited for the other twin to awaken. Arrowlan's fever had risen again during the night, and nothing was bringing it down. As soon as they got some food into Aragorn, the two elves planned on riding out with the edain children in tow. The sooner they left, the sooner help could be on its way back.
The tussled dark head in front of Elrohir nodded quickly with a grin that quickly turned to a frown.
"Awow'an? She sick."
"'Dan has her, he is trying to get her ready for the ride. We are going to bring you two to Rivendell, they will help her there. And there are lots more elves there, like 'Dan and I."
"Just like?" Aragorn's eyes had grown wide, the silver orbs looking very surprised as they glanced between him and 'Dan.
"Well, not just like, they are elves, like us, but they look different. Don't worry, you will know the difference between them." As he was chuckling at the thought of so many identical elves, Elrohir scooped Aragorn up and unto his shoulder, the boy squealing happily as he was settled so high up.
Elladan reappeared at his twin's side just as Aragorn finished eating and Elrohir was tying off a new bandage on his dark head. Arrowlan was tucked in a makeshift sling around Elladan's shoulder. Other than that, he looked immaculate, the perfect commander. 'Ro shook his head, wondering at small miracles. If there was time and opportunity, his brother always had to look perfect when riding through the gates of the Last Homely House. Every hair was in warrior braids, tunic pulled straight, cloak settled just so, it amazed Elrohir that his brother could remember to do it. While he liked to be neat, the perfection was not something he craved, and his hair tended to be slightly disarrayed or the cloak and tunic were forsaken for a plain shirt and breeches.
"Our horses arrived last night; the rangers picketed them with the rest. Come, we are ready to ride. Haste is important, Arrowlan's fever is higher than before, and nothing is bringing it down."
As the twins were preparing to mount, Thorhael silently emerged from the nearby forest.
"Be warned, the remains of that orc patrol are still near, and they are restless. My men say they are still exploring the area, although they have not yet caught our scent. Make haste, if they find us, there will be nothing left for Lord Elrond to care for." Without waiting for a reply, the elder ranger melted back into the forest.
The twins looked at each other, alarmed. For an orc patrol to continue moving during the day, it was uncommon. Without another hesitation, they leapt unto their horses backs, both children secured to one of the elves; it wouldn't do to have one of the edain slipping of part way through the ride. With soft words, the elves urged their mounts around and pushed them into a hard canter, even as the sun peeked over the horizon the rest of the way, sending the forest into a wave of light.
Midday was upon them as the two sets of twins peeked the final ridge before the drop into the valley of Imladris. Arrowlan was still burning with fever, and though her twin was awake and enjoying the sight of the Last Homely House, he too was starting to shift, his twin's discomfort causing him to feel ill at ease. The elf behind him stiffened, and Aragorn looked up toward Elrohir. After yesterday, Aragorn did not trust anything when a person near him sat so tightly.
Elrohir whipped is head around, black hair swinging over his shoulder.
"'Dan, there is no noise, no birds, nothing."
"The orcs, their near. Come, if we reach our borders, the patrol will be there." Neither twin stopped to think. They bent over the necks of their mounts, and urged them into a hard gallop. Despite being at a canter all day, the elven steeds stretched their legs out for one last hard run. Aragorn clung unto Elrohir's shirt, while it was exciting to move so quickly, it was also terrifying.
The air around Elladan's head moved, and he jerked to one side as a black arrow flew past his ear, hitting a tree nearby. Everything around the twins blurred as the stomping of orcs feet could be heard, the language of Mordor crying out behind them.
Elladan began counting landmarks, a field…the small marsh…the bubbling creek, a barrage of arrows began to appear around the twins as the elven guards caught sight of the orcs…one last clearing… and at last, the twins cleared the forest marking the edge of Rivendell, slowing to a trot, but never stopping, the twins continued on down the cliff-side trail. The sentries who were posted further in dropped down to lower branches, greeting the heirs of Imladris and captain's of her forces.
Aragorn's face slowly poked its way out of Elrohir's tunic where he had buried it during the hard run to the valley, now he twisted around, trying to see everything at once. He gasped in pleasure as the horses began to prance across the bridge, through the gate, and into the courtyard. Stopping at the base of the stairs into the house, both twins dismounted gracefully. Arrowlan's eyes opened slightly, the sudden stop causing her to waken, her royal blue eyes showing wonder at the sight before her. In Elrohir's arms, Aragorn gasped in pleasure and surprise as he glanced up the stairs to a finger who awaited them. Lord Elrond slowly descended the stairs, navy robes flowing around him, his dark hair, so like his sons,' catching slightly in the wind.
"What has my sons racing into the courtyard with a band of orcs on their heels? Surely sending you on a friendly visit to Arathorn's kin cannot be that dangerous," Elrond's eyebrow was cocked questioningly at his sons, although his voice held a hint of amusement, mixed with the long suffering words.
"Ada, please, Arathorn and Gilraen are dead, the rangers' numbers decimated. They need a patrol to fetch them here so that they may receive aid. As for the orcs, well those are the ones you can blame on for the massacre."
Elrond looked startled and very nearly started at the words, as it was, his voice was slightly faint.
"Dead? The heir of Isildur…" Looking closer at his sons, his back straightened and his voice strengthened, "Although it appears that you bear with you the next two in line for the title of heir. Glorfindel," Beckoning toward the house, a tall blond haired elf appeared. Aragorn's widened even more when he realized that this elf was even taller than the two dark ones who were taking care of him, "Gather a patrol and go after the rangers, bring plenty of extra horses and supplies. Bring the whole encampment back."
With a sweeping motion of his hand, Glorfindel turned and strode out of the courtyard, stopping just a moment to clasp both of the elven twins on the shoulder.
"Ada," Elladan finally found his voice and stepped forward, "Both are in need of healing, but Arrowlan is wracked with a fever that I could not bring down, the rangers had not the supplies needed." He gently shifted the precious bundle out of the sling and into his arms, turning Arrowlan's face toward his father.
Elrond stifled a gasp as her midnight blue eyes met his own cerulean ones. Except for the dark hair, she was nearly identical to his own mother, Elwig. Never, in all the lines of Elros had one appeared who held any of Elwig's traits; they all had resembled Elros, and subsequently, Eärendil. Such young eyes, holding such pain, without thinking, he reached out his arms and gently pulled her close to him. Feeling that she was safe with this elf, Arrowlan let her eyes slide close and a sigh escape her, as once again fever claimed her consciousness.
Standing on the lowest step, both elven twins watched their father with baited breath. He had always treated the rangers and their children with compassion and kindness, but there was something else in his eyes. Before they could ponder it any further, Aragorn's stomach made itself known, after all it was well past midday.
The spell broken, Elrond glanced at the young boy, who was now standing, if still clinging to Elrohir's leggings. A soft smile split the elf lord's face, the young boy in front of him had an endearing aura to him. Careful of the young one he held, Elrond knelt down and tipped the boy's chin so that they were looking straight at each other.
"You, youngling, sound hungry. How would you like to see if we can find you something to eat?"
"Please, sir, Awow'an is sick, and t'ey," here, Aragorn waved at the twins behind him, "said she get betta' he'e."
"Well, then, how about you come with me, while I start making her better, and I'll get someone to bring us something to eat. Then, I can make your sister feel better, and you will get something in that stomach. How's that?" Elrond's smile grew slightly as the boy seemed to contemplate this new offer, before nodding happily. Holding out his hand for the little heir of Gondor to grab, Elrond turned toward the house, before stopping and turning back around. Both of his sons still stood on the lower steps, looking dumbfounded. "You two may want to brush down your horses and then find a bath and new clothes. Elladan, I'm sure you cleaned up before riding in, but you surely don't look like it. When you are presentable, the three of us will be in the House of Healing." With his piece said, Elrond turned once again and disappeared into the house, Aragorn following in his footsteps.
The twins took one last look at the door, before looking at each other with mirrored expressions of shock. Never had their father looked so taken with ranger's children, especially one of the girls. Shaking off their amazement, both twins started leading their horses toward the stables. Their father's reaction would be something to ponder at a later time, when they were clean, fed, and rested.
TBC
Thank you to those who reviewed. Don't worry I'll keep the chapters coming as quickly as I can. Just be warned, finals are coming up, so they may slow down! And I know Arrowlan hasn't really been given much of a chance to develop, but in the true nature of Aragorn/Elladan/Elrohir stories, I had to have ouchies. Also, I tried to imitate how a two year old would talk, sorry if it is hard to read.
Elvish:
AdaDad
Gwandur ninmy brother
Hannon lleThank you
