Review replies:
CANTORA: Well, tell Elly-D I say hello!
LOBO DIABLO: Why? I'll tell you . . . I don't know. =)
NERWEN: See above. =D
FIGGY: Yes, you're absolutely right. Ramen is nasty crap. *nod nod* Cover
Elly-H's eyes.don't let him look!
ANTIGONE Q: Thanks; others noticed that arrow thing, too. Sorry about the
confusion.
ROCHWEN: *sighs and shakes head* Well thanks for letting me borrow angsty
Elrond . . . *glances at your mind suspiciously.*
Chapter Eight
For the next few weeks, the houses of Elrond grieved, and the lands were shrouded in darkness. Hardly was there a cheerful face to be seen as one walked through the deserted halls, if there was a face to be seen at all. A sad and anguished mood had fallen and settled upon the Elven lands.
But in time, emotions healed, and hurts slowly grew less painful. After much time, Imaldris began to brighten and bloom once more. There were smiles and laughter once again. Even Lord Elrond could be seen with a few grins upon his face, and more often as the days passed.
Gilraeth had slowly come out of his grief, but not without much pain. But soon enough he was enjoying the things he once did. The time he would've normally spent with Elladan was now being shared with Glorfindel. The two took comfort in each other and helped to heal the other. About three months after Elladan's passing, everyone seemed to have moved on.
Everyone, that is, except for Elrohir. His guilt was still as fresh as the day he'd held his dying brother in his arms. Most of his time was spent shut up in his quarters, and he seldom came out for any reason. When he did reveal himself, he did not speak to any. Only his storm gray eyes revealed his pain.
Missed meals and lack of sleep took a toll on the Elf, and it definitely showed. His face was gaunt, tear streaked, and colorless. His robes hung loosely around his thin body. His strength dwindled until the simplest tasks took him great effort.
Elrond had expected his living son's grief to be greater than his own, but never did he imagine Elrohir would carry on with it for so long. Nor did he expect his body to suffer as it did. If Elrohir did not overcome his grief, Elrond feared it would claim his life.
One chilly day, Glorfindel walked between the trees of the forest in solitude. It was the very same forest where Elladan had died. Glorfindel had not visited it since that time, and whatever was left of his grief fled as nature's beauty cleansed the dark memories he held of this place.
Suddenly, he stopped upon hearing a faint tune coming from the trees. The Elf listened intently, his blue eyes darting around the treetops. It was the clear voice of an Elf, but the melody was haunting and sad, the voice filled with longing and pain. The tune spoke of one lost, and the desire for the prodigious one to return. Glorfindel knew at once who the singer was.
Tracking the chilling song, Glorfindel traveled further into the heart of the wood. The voice was growing louder as Glorfindel came nearer. He stopped as the voice came from directly above him. It faltered and stopped, and there was silence again.
"Elrohir," Glorfindel called up, his eyes peering through the branches. Elrohir was perched upon the very same branch he'd sat upon when he'd let loose the fatal arrow that day. His cold gray eyes looked down at the Elf lord, but he did not utter a sound.
"I'm coming up," Glorfindel said as he gripped the lowest branch and swung himself up into the tree. With little effort, Glorfindel was soon crouched on a branch opposite of Elrohir.
"How did you climb up so fast?" Elrohir asked rather tonelessly.
Glorfindel shrugged lightly. "It's rather simple . . . if one has been caring for themselves."
At this, Elrohir turned his head away. "I do care for myself."
Glorfindel arched a brow. "I beg to differ, young prince. I know very well what is happening."
"How can you know?" Elrohir spat angrily. "Elladan was not your brother!"
"I'm aware of that, Elrohir," Glorfindel retorted icily. "But it has been nearly two seasons since his passing. Let it go."
"It's not that simple!" Elrohir replied with growing anger, his head turning to look back at Glorfindel. "You can tell me to let go, but you do not know how I feel."
"Of course I do. The loss was felt by all."
"But does anyone know what it feels like to know that you killed your own brother?!" Elrohir roared, sitting straight up, his eyes blazing fury.
For a moment, all was silent. The two Elves stared at each other - one with anger, the other with compassion. And then Elrohir leaned back, resting his head upon the tree trunk, his closed eyes shedding multiple tears.
Glorfindel leaped the distance between the two branches easily and gathered the shaking Elf in his arms tightly. He started for the ground.
As both pairs of feet touched upon the forest floor, Elrohir sank to his knees, staring at the spot where his brother had died.
"It was here . . . I killed him here," he whispered. Glorfindel sighed lightly and placed a hand upon Elrohir's shoulder.
"You must not carry this guilt around as you have been, Elrohir. Elladan would not want you to suffer so. He knew it was an accident."
"But if I-"
"Elrohir, what's done is done. You cannot think about what could have or should have been. You must forgive yourself. Your father couldn't bear to lose another son."
Elrohir remained silent, his head bowed. He turned Glorfindel's words over in his mind. The questions still remained, yet the Elf lord's final statement had driven home. What would happen to his father, Arwen, Gilraeth, Erestor, Lindir, and Glorfindel, should he die in his anguish? He would rejoin his brother, yet he would leave behind so much sorrow.
The light finally dawned on Elrohir as his head rose and his eyes looked straight ahead. He had been dwelling on the past instead of looking forward, blaming himself far too often. And yet a twinge of guilt still remained. He always seemed to hurt those he loved the most. First Elladan, and then his people when he'd withdrawn himself from the world.
"Elrohir."
Glorfindel's soft call brought him back to reality. He stood and turned to face Glorfindel, his eyes still somewhat pained, and yet less so than before. He'd brought the Elven prince back from the brink of death.
"I've been a fool," Elrohir said in shame. He dropped his head, unable to meet Glorfindel's piercing gaze.
Glorfindel took Elrohir's chin gently in his hand and lifted his head.
"Worry not, son of Elrond. All is forgiven. Return to a life you once knew, and face it with courage. There are still some in Imaldris who blame you, but you must not pay them heed."
Elrohir nodded. "I am ready to face a life without my brother. And yet . . . he is still with me." A smile broke onto his face as he spoke, the first genuine smile since Elladan's passing.
"He is still with me."
As Elrohir and Glorfindel passed into the heart of Imaldris, they were met with a few stares and whispers, mostly directed at Elrohir. One particularly outspoken man, a guest of Elrond, stepped up with a sneer crossed over his face.
"So how does the son of Elrond feel about murdering his very own brother?"
Elrohir stopped and glared at the brown haired, hazel eyed man. He'd been called many a name before, but never . . . never murderer. Glorfindel placed a strong hand on his shoulder, knowing Elrohir's temper was flaring.
"No, Elrohir," he murmured into his ear.
"So, he has to have someone with him at all times to make sure it doesn't happen again," the man mused. Elrohir's eyes blazed with hatred, but it was Glorfindel who spoke.
"How dare you say such things?" his commanding voice boomed, causing all within earshot to stop and listen. "You are a guest here, and you are expected to show the utmost respect for the Lord Elrond and his sons and all the rest who allow you to stay in the first place. I have the power to evict you without Lord Elrond's consent."
The man sneered. "And you believe this will insult me?"
"How is it you were allowed to even set foot within Imaldris? How is it that you claim to be a guest of Elrond and yet publicly disgrace his son? I order you out of Imaldris, immediately. And may Elbereth have no mercy upon you if we find you otherwise shortly."
With a last defiant glare, the man turned and stalked off, parting the crowd of Elves that had gathered to watch the scene. Elrohir slowly relaxed and turned to Glorfindel.
"You shouldn't have held me back."
Glorfindel smiled at this. "No, I suppose maybe I shouldn't have. A sound beating is no more than he deserves. But do not be too quick to deal out judgment, son of Elrond. Sometimes a little mercy is well rewarded."
"And what if it isn't?"
Glorfindel shrugged as his Elf-eyes saw the man ride out of Imaldris upon his horse.
"That I have no answer for."
CANTORA: Well, tell Elly-D I say hello!
LOBO DIABLO: Why? I'll tell you . . . I don't know. =)
NERWEN: See above. =D
FIGGY: Yes, you're absolutely right. Ramen is nasty crap. *nod nod* Cover
Elly-H's eyes.don't let him look!
ANTIGONE Q: Thanks; others noticed that arrow thing, too. Sorry about the
confusion.
ROCHWEN: *sighs and shakes head* Well thanks for letting me borrow angsty
Elrond . . . *glances at your mind suspiciously.*
Chapter Eight
For the next few weeks, the houses of Elrond grieved, and the lands were shrouded in darkness. Hardly was there a cheerful face to be seen as one walked through the deserted halls, if there was a face to be seen at all. A sad and anguished mood had fallen and settled upon the Elven lands.
But in time, emotions healed, and hurts slowly grew less painful. After much time, Imaldris began to brighten and bloom once more. There were smiles and laughter once again. Even Lord Elrond could be seen with a few grins upon his face, and more often as the days passed.
Gilraeth had slowly come out of his grief, but not without much pain. But soon enough he was enjoying the things he once did. The time he would've normally spent with Elladan was now being shared with Glorfindel. The two took comfort in each other and helped to heal the other. About three months after Elladan's passing, everyone seemed to have moved on.
Everyone, that is, except for Elrohir. His guilt was still as fresh as the day he'd held his dying brother in his arms. Most of his time was spent shut up in his quarters, and he seldom came out for any reason. When he did reveal himself, he did not speak to any. Only his storm gray eyes revealed his pain.
Missed meals and lack of sleep took a toll on the Elf, and it definitely showed. His face was gaunt, tear streaked, and colorless. His robes hung loosely around his thin body. His strength dwindled until the simplest tasks took him great effort.
Elrond had expected his living son's grief to be greater than his own, but never did he imagine Elrohir would carry on with it for so long. Nor did he expect his body to suffer as it did. If Elrohir did not overcome his grief, Elrond feared it would claim his life.
One chilly day, Glorfindel walked between the trees of the forest in solitude. It was the very same forest where Elladan had died. Glorfindel had not visited it since that time, and whatever was left of his grief fled as nature's beauty cleansed the dark memories he held of this place.
Suddenly, he stopped upon hearing a faint tune coming from the trees. The Elf listened intently, his blue eyes darting around the treetops. It was the clear voice of an Elf, but the melody was haunting and sad, the voice filled with longing and pain. The tune spoke of one lost, and the desire for the prodigious one to return. Glorfindel knew at once who the singer was.
Tracking the chilling song, Glorfindel traveled further into the heart of the wood. The voice was growing louder as Glorfindel came nearer. He stopped as the voice came from directly above him. It faltered and stopped, and there was silence again.
"Elrohir," Glorfindel called up, his eyes peering through the branches. Elrohir was perched upon the very same branch he'd sat upon when he'd let loose the fatal arrow that day. His cold gray eyes looked down at the Elf lord, but he did not utter a sound.
"I'm coming up," Glorfindel said as he gripped the lowest branch and swung himself up into the tree. With little effort, Glorfindel was soon crouched on a branch opposite of Elrohir.
"How did you climb up so fast?" Elrohir asked rather tonelessly.
Glorfindel shrugged lightly. "It's rather simple . . . if one has been caring for themselves."
At this, Elrohir turned his head away. "I do care for myself."
Glorfindel arched a brow. "I beg to differ, young prince. I know very well what is happening."
"How can you know?" Elrohir spat angrily. "Elladan was not your brother!"
"I'm aware of that, Elrohir," Glorfindel retorted icily. "But it has been nearly two seasons since his passing. Let it go."
"It's not that simple!" Elrohir replied with growing anger, his head turning to look back at Glorfindel. "You can tell me to let go, but you do not know how I feel."
"Of course I do. The loss was felt by all."
"But does anyone know what it feels like to know that you killed your own brother?!" Elrohir roared, sitting straight up, his eyes blazing fury.
For a moment, all was silent. The two Elves stared at each other - one with anger, the other with compassion. And then Elrohir leaned back, resting his head upon the tree trunk, his closed eyes shedding multiple tears.
Glorfindel leaped the distance between the two branches easily and gathered the shaking Elf in his arms tightly. He started for the ground.
As both pairs of feet touched upon the forest floor, Elrohir sank to his knees, staring at the spot where his brother had died.
"It was here . . . I killed him here," he whispered. Glorfindel sighed lightly and placed a hand upon Elrohir's shoulder.
"You must not carry this guilt around as you have been, Elrohir. Elladan would not want you to suffer so. He knew it was an accident."
"But if I-"
"Elrohir, what's done is done. You cannot think about what could have or should have been. You must forgive yourself. Your father couldn't bear to lose another son."
Elrohir remained silent, his head bowed. He turned Glorfindel's words over in his mind. The questions still remained, yet the Elf lord's final statement had driven home. What would happen to his father, Arwen, Gilraeth, Erestor, Lindir, and Glorfindel, should he die in his anguish? He would rejoin his brother, yet he would leave behind so much sorrow.
The light finally dawned on Elrohir as his head rose and his eyes looked straight ahead. He had been dwelling on the past instead of looking forward, blaming himself far too often. And yet a twinge of guilt still remained. He always seemed to hurt those he loved the most. First Elladan, and then his people when he'd withdrawn himself from the world.
"Elrohir."
Glorfindel's soft call brought him back to reality. He stood and turned to face Glorfindel, his eyes still somewhat pained, and yet less so than before. He'd brought the Elven prince back from the brink of death.
"I've been a fool," Elrohir said in shame. He dropped his head, unable to meet Glorfindel's piercing gaze.
Glorfindel took Elrohir's chin gently in his hand and lifted his head.
"Worry not, son of Elrond. All is forgiven. Return to a life you once knew, and face it with courage. There are still some in Imaldris who blame you, but you must not pay them heed."
Elrohir nodded. "I am ready to face a life without my brother. And yet . . . he is still with me." A smile broke onto his face as he spoke, the first genuine smile since Elladan's passing.
"He is still with me."
As Elrohir and Glorfindel passed into the heart of Imaldris, they were met with a few stares and whispers, mostly directed at Elrohir. One particularly outspoken man, a guest of Elrond, stepped up with a sneer crossed over his face.
"So how does the son of Elrond feel about murdering his very own brother?"
Elrohir stopped and glared at the brown haired, hazel eyed man. He'd been called many a name before, but never . . . never murderer. Glorfindel placed a strong hand on his shoulder, knowing Elrohir's temper was flaring.
"No, Elrohir," he murmured into his ear.
"So, he has to have someone with him at all times to make sure it doesn't happen again," the man mused. Elrohir's eyes blazed with hatred, but it was Glorfindel who spoke.
"How dare you say such things?" his commanding voice boomed, causing all within earshot to stop and listen. "You are a guest here, and you are expected to show the utmost respect for the Lord Elrond and his sons and all the rest who allow you to stay in the first place. I have the power to evict you without Lord Elrond's consent."
The man sneered. "And you believe this will insult me?"
"How is it you were allowed to even set foot within Imaldris? How is it that you claim to be a guest of Elrond and yet publicly disgrace his son? I order you out of Imaldris, immediately. And may Elbereth have no mercy upon you if we find you otherwise shortly."
With a last defiant glare, the man turned and stalked off, parting the crowd of Elves that had gathered to watch the scene. Elrohir slowly relaxed and turned to Glorfindel.
"You shouldn't have held me back."
Glorfindel smiled at this. "No, I suppose maybe I shouldn't have. A sound beating is no more than he deserves. But do not be too quick to deal out judgment, son of Elrond. Sometimes a little mercy is well rewarded."
"And what if it isn't?"
Glorfindel shrugged as his Elf-eyes saw the man ride out of Imaldris upon his horse.
"That I have no answer for."