Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R Tolkien, the only people I own are Alenor Talagand, Bréil, Sebastian and Victoria.

REVISED and EDITED Fate's Paths-Chap13-Visitations-

Mesmerized Elrohir gingerly picked up the stone, holding it before his eyes. An odd expression befell his face. Halbarad and Estel faded into the corners of his mind, becoming distant figures of a past filled with grief, torment and agony.

The sharp edge of the rock sliced across tender skin of his fingers when he carelessly gripped it tightly in his hand. Elrohir didn't notice the pain. His mind was completely wrapped around the object nestled in the palm of his hand; he could see the blood flowing through the cracks of his fingers; but there was no pain. It was fascinatingly and dangerously sharp. Sharp enough to end his life with a single stroke. Sharp enough to let him be with Elladan again. Alenor no longer mattered. He would not, could not, go back to grief.

Hardly comprehending the implications of what he was about to do, Elrohir turned his right wrist over, holding it defiantly toward the glaring brightness of the sun. No longer did he flinch away from the brightness; he would show happiness that he would not tolerate its rays to spread.

His breathing accelerating in anticipation, Elrohir rested the sharpest edge of the rock against his skin. Taking a steadying breath he looked down so he could watch the rock clawing away the skin of his wrist. Clouts of blood flew upwards in slow motion, leaking over his arm and attaching to his clothes. He thought that there would be pain but his mind was too blank to feel anything.

Behind him a shout of fright erupted and footsteps rushed towards him. The voice that had called out was familiar, but he could not longer attach a name to it. The warning hardly halted Elrohir's actions.

Time stopped.

He froze, immediately aware of the unnaturalness, even through the heavy veils of his mind-numbing grief. Elrohir slowly lifted his head. It felt as if his eyes were forced upward, dragging him like an unwilling prisoner heading to some unimaginable torture. He knew who was watching him and who had stopped time. But he was not dead. Not yet. Elrohir did not want to see him until he had passed over into the clutches of Mandos.

A warm hand, achingly familiar in touch and feel, closed over Elrohir's left, stopping him from going any farther. "Stop beating yourself up like this.."

Elrohir struggled to shut his eyes, to shut away his hearing; he didn't want to have to listen to that voice. It brought everything back, every little thing he had tried to push and lock away. The grief seared through him, making him choke on a well of rising tears. "I'm having a delusion," he whispered feverishly to himself, rocking back and forth. "It's not true. This isn't happening. I'm not dead yet. It's all an illusion."

"Elrohir, look at me. Do as I say. Denying this won't get you anywhere."

Elrohir could not disobey the command. It seemed as if some hidden force was residing in his brother's voice. He had to look up; there was nothing else he could do.

Elladan was kneeling before him. Both hands were clasping Elrohir's, keeping his suicide attempt at bay. The first son of Elrond was smiling gently at his twin. Smiling in that special way that comforts frightened children and yet makes them feel brave even though they had been afraid. Elladan's body was bathed in a gentle pulsing light that radiated his loving emotions for Elrohir.

Tears started to pour down Elrohir's face anew. He had thought that they were long dead, but come they did; pouring out in a river's torrent as he started cry, his anguish coming again to the forefront. He tried to speak, to get out all the words he had wanted to say but had never gotten around to saying, but the words wouldn't come. He felt Elladan release his hands so as to draw him close and hold him comfortingly. Elrohir tried to stop him, but couldn't even find the will to move. He didn't have the strength to do anything but let the tears run rampant.

"You're stronger than this," Elladan whispered in his ear, trying to higher Elrohir's spirits. "You can get through this. I know you can."

"No...No I can't," Elrohir wept, his words tripping over each other, as he finally managed to form them. "I can't go on without you. You were my life."

Elladan rubbed Elrohir's back, hushing him with quiet, soothing words. "I'm fine. I'm without pain now. I'm without suffering. This is all better for me. You did not want me to suffer did you?"

Elrohir managed to shake his head against his brother's shoulder. "No," he said, hardly able to pronounce his words. "But I don't want to you be gone. I want you to be healthy and remain by my side like you always have done."

"I haven't gone anywhere," Elladan pushed Elrohir back, resting his hands on his twin's shoulders in a brotherly grip. "Look me in the eyes Elrohir."

Elrohir obediently turned his eyes up into Elladan's. Their depths were so familiar, so full of vibrant life. The void of agonizing grief inside him yawned open, stretching further then he thought possible. It hurt so much. "I'm looking."

"I know," Elladan reproached him, but the smile didn't fade from his face. "Listen to me Elrohir, I haven't gone anywhere. I'm still where it counts most." He reached out tapping Elrohir's chest, above his heart. "I'm right here, where I've always been, in your heart and memory. Nothing changes that, nothing can ever change that."

Elrohir felt the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes again. "Everything's different now! Everything's changed! I can't do this!"

"And you would abandon our little Tinúviel?" Elladan asked, his tone almost accusing. "Abandon her to pain and torture? You would abandon her to live without knowing that I have departed from his world? You would abandon her to death?"

Elrohir shook his head fiercely, wondering what had come over him to make him forget Alenor's plight. The grief still gripped him with a furious passion but Elladan had infused him with a chance to go on. Tinúviel. He knew he could not abandon her now, especially when she was almost all he had left.

"I knew that all you need was a little persuasion. You were always good at getting back up on your feet," Elladan grinned softly, before his grew serious once more. "But Elrohir, promise me something before I go."

"Tell me what you want first," Elrohir replied, knowing better then to walk into an agreement with Elladan blindly. He had gone into things blindly too many times in the past with disastrous outcomes; even now he did not wish to fall into a trap.

Elladan raised a finger pointing it threateningly at Elrohir's face. "No," he said firmly. "You're going to swear to me first that you will act on what I say and that you will do nothing to go against it."

Fighting the instinct within him that was insisting that he should not listen to Elladan, Elrohir nodded his head reluctantly. "By Elbereth's stars I swear I will listen to what you have to say and act on it without question."

"Good." Elladan leaned back, as if content. "Firstly you're going to take care of the cuts on your wrist and fingers." He waited only for Elrohir's agreeing nod before continuing. "Second, you're not going to follow me after Alenor's safe and home."

Elrohir's jaw fell open. "No Elladan! You can't ask this of me!"

Elladan raised a warning finger. "You already swore that you would obey without question," he warned. "You will not come after me. Adar is in enough grief as it is; I will not allow you to follow me."

Elrohir lowered his head, struggling to breathe normally. "Is there anything else that you require of me?" he choked out.

"Just that you'll always love me," Elladan replied, his tone changing subtly into one of warmth and love.

"You shouldn't have had to even think of asking that question," Elrohir retorted, looking up. He gasped in fright. Elladan's form was fading, drifting back into a void of light. His brother was still smiling.

"I'm always in your heart. Don't forget that," Elladan called, his voice echoing from a great distance and then he was gone.

Time resumed her pace.

Halbarad stumbled into Elrohir's sitting form. "Put down the..." The Ranger stopped mid-sentence, blinking in confusion as he realized that the rock was nowhere near Elrohir's hand.

Elrohir looked up into Halbarad's eyes, letting a worn smile cover his face. He pressed his other hand tightly against the self-inflicted wound of his wrist. He noticed the pain now.

"I thought," Halbarad stuttered, shaking his head as if trying to decide what to do. "Never mind. Let's get your wounds cleaned up." He started walking away, then paused as if in thoughtful consideration. "How did you get hurt Elrohir?"

"I slipped," Elrohir kept smiling. "I must have somehow hurt myself on that sharp rock over there."

Halbarad paused to look at, confusion still evident in his eyes. "I could have sworn..." he mumbled. Shaking his head, he turned and headed back toward the horses, Elrohir following behind heard him muttering under his breath. He fought to keep back a life. For the first time since Elladan's death, everything seemed almost normal.