Elrohir gasped softly, trying to fill his lungs with enough air to continue his song. Elladan heard the soft noise and turned from his labours. He saw sweat beading across the younger twin's forehead…the actual struggle to draw breath… Elladan quickly crossed to his brother's side and knelt, carefully pulling Elrohir into his arms.
The past three days had been hard. Elladan was near collapsing in exhaustion, and Elrohir…The young elf's pale skin seemed to be the only thing that shone. His light was almost gone. Looking down at his twin, Elladan was nearly consumed with guilt. For days, he had listened to Elrohir's singing…taking the hope his brother offered without questioning what would be the price to pay.
"I'm alright," Elrohir finally gasped, his voice hoarse and barely audible. His throat had been rubbed raw from his song. "Really."
Elladan merely snorted. "You lie." His hands gently stroked dark hair away from his brother's clammy forehead, belying the harshness of his voice. "Why did you not tell me how badly you were injured?"
"It is…not… that bad."
"Elrohir! You can hardly breathe!"
A weak smile pulled at the corners of the young elf lord's lips. "Oh…that. Well…once you get used to it…"
Elladan gave a short, somewhat bitter laugh. "Oh, I see. Yes, it must not be so bad, once you get used to dying."
Elrohir did not answer. His eyes were drawn to the wall of stone that blocked the entrance. To be more specific…the small ray of red light that poured through a tiny hole. "You made it through…"
"Almost." Elladan followed his twin's gaze with tired eyes. "It's too small…too late…and I am too tired." His eyes were losing focus even as he sat.
Elrohir felt his brother's breathing slow, and deepen and knew that Elladan had fallen asleep. He gazed at the small hole and smiled. Though he probably would not live…Elladan would get out.
All the songs that he knew, all the songs written by elves, the dark haired elf had sung over the past three days. He searched his memory, trying to think of something….a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
A few years ago, when Estel had been only ten or so, a hobbit had passed through Rivendell along with Gandalf. The hobbit returned every so often to visit…and it was one his songs that came to Elrohir.
The road goes ever on and on…
0-0-0-0
Elrond gasped, his eyes growing wide. The vision he had seen four days ago, and the nightmares that plagued him since.
His sons…one asleep…the other so hurt…
The elf lord nearly fell off his horse and sprinted into the cave. He slid to a halt, astonished at the sight that met his eyes.
The entire back half of the cavern was completely blocked off, an enormous pile of rubble filling it from top to bottom…almost.
There was a very small hole, and through that hole came a very weak voice. It echoed hauntingly against the stones, magnifying and drifting out into the twilight. Elrond moved forward, carefully climbing to the small hole and peering inside.
Elladan sat with Elrohir's head in his lap, his head leaning back against the rough wall. His eyes were open and unfocused, asleep. Elrohir was singing softly, his voice rough. As the last notes died into silence, Elrond saw a brief spasm of pain slide across his son's face. The young elf tried to breath deeply, but a cough shook his frame.
"Elrohir," Elrond called softly through the opening. "Ion nin, I am here…"
Elrohir's eyes jerked upwards, and widened in amazement. His lips were moving, but no sound came from his throat. " Ada," he finally managed.
The elf lord pulled at the rocks, trying to enlarge the hole. "Avo 'osto, pen neth. I am coming."
The ghost of a smile pulled at his son's lips. "I am…not so young…anymore…"
Despite his worry, the father could not help but smile. "Child." Elrond snorted softly. "You are not even 3000 years of age."
"2823 must count for something…"
" You say to your father who has passed 5000 quite some time ago." The rocks tore at his skin, but he did not pause.
The other elves entered the cave and realized what must be behind the mound. Swiftly, they came to their Lord's aid.
0-0-0-0
Elladan stirred fitfully in his sleep. Someone was calling to him, but he did not wish to wake. He was quite comfortable, thank you very much, and wanted to stay that way. He had the odd impression that something incredibly unpleasant was waiting for him the moment he truly returned to consciousness.
"Lasto a nin, Elladan, Ada hi!"
Elrohir. It was Elrohir who was calling him. That shouldn't surprise him, Elrohir was always waking him when he wanted to sleep…or letting him sleep when he needed to be woken. He would have to talk to brother about reversing those particular actions."Quiet," he grumbled sleepily. A shaky laugh answered him…but was interrupted by a bout of violent coughing.
At that sound, Elladan suddenly recalled where he was. "Elrohir!" He jerked awake and looked down at his twin anxiously. He kicked himself mentally. He should not have fallen asleep…not when he knew how badly injured Elrohir really was… "Easy, gwanor nin," the elf whispered as he held his brother gently. "Relax and try to breath deeply…"
"Ada…" Elrohir gasped through the coughs that racked his injured body. "Ada…"
Elladan's brow furrowed as he looked down at the injured lordling. "No, Elrohir, it is I. Elladan."
Elrohir shook his head vehemently. "No…not what I meant…"
"Elladan!"
At the sound of the deep voice, Elladan's head shot upwards, his grey eyes widening. "Ada!"
The hole he had originally made was much enlarged by this time, and it looked as though it would soon be wide enough to allow an elf to pass through. He could see Elrond as well as several other elves quickly pulling away the stones.
Elrohir went limp.
Looking down in alarm, Elladan was horrified to see his twin's eyes slowly drift shut. "Ro!" The older twin froze, fearing that if he moved he would only worsen his brother's condition. "Ada, hurry!"
0-0-0-0
Glorfindel hastily scooped rubble out of the way. The tunnel was finally wide enough for an elf to slide through. Squirming uncomfortably, Elrond half crawled, half slithered through the narrow opening.
Elladan bit his lip as his father appeared. "Ada, Ro's eyes…"
" I see," Elrond quickly bent over his younger son, a worried frown creasing his forehead. His fingers quickly sought out a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt it…weak, thready…but definitely there. "Don't worry, Elladan," he tried to push a note of confidence into his voice for his son's sake. "He will be alright." The dark haired elf lord cast a glance back at the opening he had crawled through. "We need to get him out of here…"
"I can help!" Elladan tried to straighten, but winced as his muscles seemed to cry out in anguish.
Elrond caught one of his eldest's hands and raised it, his eyes surveying the bruised and bleeding fingers critically. He raised an eyebrow. "Ah."
"They are just scrapes…" Elladan's voice died away as Elrond's other eyebrow joined the first. "Really, Ada."
Without a word, Elrond grasped the other hand and pulled it up as well. "I see." His eyes traveled over Elladan's weary and battered frame. Dirt clung to every inch of the dark haired elf. A cut across his forehead was crusted with dried blood and Valar knew what else. His long hair hung in sweat soaked strands, clinging to his neck and face.
Despite his worry, a smile tugged at the father's lips. "And I might even believe you."
Elladan's eyes popped open. "You…do?"
"I said might."
As Elladan groaned, Elrond called back to Glorfindel.
0-0-0-0
Elrohir slowly opened his eyes. A blanket of stars was spread above him. He blinked slightly in confusion. That hadn't been there when he had lost consciousness… he tried to move and gasped at the stab of pain that shot through his side.
"Easy," A very well known face appeared above him. "I did not fix those ribs of yours just to have you undo all my work with unnecessary movement."
The young elf lord relaxed. "Ada. Good. It wasn't just a dream then." He looked down at his rib cage and noticed the thick bandages that wound around his chest. "What happened?"
"One of your broken ribs was putting pressure on your lungs," his father answered. "It came very close to puncturing them altogether." The elder elf smiled softly, concealing how close to death his son had actually been. "Your leg should be alright. It is not as bad as it appears to be. I set it while you slept, and you did not even seem to notice."
Elrohir chuckled softly. "I do not think that I would have noticed if a balrog had come up to me and asked for directions to Mordor." He laughed even harder and groaned as pain flared across his ribs. "I probably should not do that…"
"Probably not," his father agreed dryly. "Here," he held a cup toward his son. "Drink this."
Elrohir eyed the cup suspiciously. "No, thank you. I think I have had quite enough sleep for now…"
Elrond did not speak a word. He merely continued to hold the cup in his outstretched hand.
The young elf sighed deeply. "Oh, very well." Taking the vessel, he quickly gulped the contents. His features twisted into a grimace of distaste as he swallowed the last of it. "Ugh! Oh, that is disgusting."
Elrond chuckled. "You sound just like Estel."
The two froze, struck by the mention of the ranger's name. "Ada," Elrohir murmured as the drug he had consumed started to take over his senses. "Estel…and Legolas…the orcs…"
"Don't worry," The elf lord's voice was soft, but his grey eyes had turned to steel. "We will get them back."
One of his sons was still missing…and a vision was unfulfilled…
0-0-0-0
Elladan heard his father approaching and tried to rise. Glorfindel reached out almost casually and checked the young elf's motion, holding him in place. "Patience, pen neth. Your father will arrive in his own time, and quite frankly…" a light of humor rose in the fair elf's pale eyes. "You are not in very good shape. It would be better for you to rest."
The elder twin opened his mouth to argue, but closed it with a snap as his muscles decided to side with Glorfindel and scream their protests at being moved. 'Traitors' he thought darkly, glaring at his own legs.
Elrond sank down next to his eldest child. A long sigh of relief flowed from his lips.
Elladan looked at him anxiously. "Elrohir?"
"He will be fine…but it was very close." The elf lord dragged his hand over his face, a far away look covering his features. He murmured a phrase softly, almost to himself. "And now…now what do I do?"
His son's brows drew together in confusion. "Ada?"
Elrond was brought back with a jerk at the sound of the young elf's voice. "Nothing… just talking to myself." He smiled briefly at Elladan. "Get some sleep, ion nin. We will rest here for tonight…and then tomorrow we shall decide our course of action."
Reluctantly, Elladan lay back against the sleeping roll one of the elves had brought him. Soon, his deepened breathing told the two older elves that he had fallen asleep.
"So…" Glorfindel tugged the edges of his cloak absently. "What are we going to do tomorrow?"
" I don't know." Elrond's dark brows were pulled together in a V. "I can not leave Elrohir so soon…but we must go after Estel and Legolas…and I can not imagine Elladan being willing to stay behind."
Glorfindel snorted at the very idea. " Nor can I. However," he rose quickly and placed a hand on his Lord's shoulder. "It is as you said, hir nin. Get some rest. Tomorrow, we will decide what we shall do." With a comforting squeeze, the fair elf strode away.
With a sigh, Elrond rolled his own cloak into a pillow and lay down upon it. He stared up at the stars and wondered…and worried…
His youngest was still gone…
0-0-0-0
Aragorn blinked tiredly. He was exhausted beyond belief.
Sleep had been denied him for three days. And Legolas…
The elf twitched and moaned softly beneath the ranger's hands. Aragorn sighed, almost in despair.
Legolas had not improved.
Once good thing…they had stayed in the same place. Orchbeck had been completely willing to travel on the first night…until Aragorn had told him in no uncertain terms that Legolas would most likely die from being jostled around for long periods of time at this point. The same thing had happened on the second night…and the third…and now all that the young human wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a very long time…
Every night he fed the elf several leaves of the plant he had found. And every night he wondered if it was really having any effect at all. If anything, Legolas seemed to be growing a little worse.
Legolas groaned. He mumbled phrases, dropping in and out of elvish. Most of it was nonsense, and did not flow from one sentence to the next. Sweat stood out on his pale forehead.
Speaking of foreheads…Aragorn winced as he gently touched the tender, purple swelling on his own. Since they could not touch the elf, the orcs had taken to venting their frustration on him. He had, in fact, most likely become their favorite punching bag.
Ah, well. If he was going to be tired, why not bruised as well?
"Ar….Arago..rn…"
The silver eyes widened. "Yes…I'm here, Mellon nin. What is it?" This was the first time Legolas had said something intelligible since the ranger had returned with Orchbeck from gathering the plant he needed.
"Ara…gorn…" the blue eyes were actually focused, gazing at the human intently as the elf's body was racked with shudders. One long fingered hand lifted, reaching out.
Aragorn caught the hand tightly, his heart leaping in his excitement. Legolas actually seemed to see him…was reaching toward him… "I am here. Hold on." He pulled the elf into his arms, clutching him. "You will be alright." He could feel the heat of fever that seeped through the prince's thin tunic.
" I do…not know…if I can…" Legolas fever glazed eyes were fixed on the sky, looking towards the east. "Look…the sun rises…"
Indeed, as Aragorn turned his head to gazed in that direction, he saw the sky began to turn from dark blue to a lighter grayish color.
The orc guards around them hissed and croaked, unhappy at the rays of sunshine that were beginning to peak over the horizon.
"Aniron i calad anor," Legolas said softly. "Aniron…"
A final shudder shook the lithe form.
Aragorn looked down in alarm. The prince was still, his body peaceful after the ordeal it had been put through. The first beams of sunlight lit in his hair, turning it into strands of spun gold. His fair skin seemed to glow softly in the early dawn. It lingered over his face.
Over his closed eyes.
A cry ripped from Aragorn's throat. He bent over the elf's still form, unheeding of the hair that fell over his forehead and into his eyes. "Legolas!"
It was too much.
Though he wished he could stop them…tears pooled in his silver eyes and fell down his cheeks, dripping into the prince's hair.
He could hear the orc guards laughing as they closed in around him. He could hear their taunts.
But for the moment, he simply did not care.
"Legolas!"
0-0-0-0
Elrond awoke with a start, his eyes flashing. "Estel!"
0-0-0-0
Ion nin- my sonAvo 'osto, pen neth.- Do not fear, young one.
Lasto a nin, Elladan! Ada na hi- Listen to me, Elladan! Father(daddy) is here!
Mellon nin- My friend
Aniron i calad anor…aniron…-I desire the sunlight…I desire…
0-0-0-0