Author's Note: Once again, I wanted to get this written before Christmas, but once again, you know what they say about the best laid plans… I originally planned to continue this story thanks to a suggestion from a friend, and have been slowly working on it. There is more to come with hopefully some resolution, but I wanted to go ahead and post something closer to Christmas. I hope everyone enjoys it. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my fellow LOTR fanfiction writers and readers.

A big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my stories, comment on them, and favorite them. You all inspire me so much! :)

Rating: K+ for angst, emotional situations, and talk of death

Left Behind

The next day the storm broke the dawn of Yule with relentless fury, and the elves were hard pressed to keep their little shelter warm and dry. The little tree still glistened quietly in its corner, shining forth what cheer it could in the dismal surroundings of the cave, but the winter's chill and the dark and dank atmosphere had leant its shadow to the young elfling within, doing what no amount of Yule cheer could manage to stave off. Legolas was sickened once more, and the twins were frantic, one of the rare times in their long lives that they did not know what path to choose.

As the young elf dozed fitfully before the fire, wrapped in all the blankets the elves had brought, along with Elladan and Elrohir's cloaks—they were older and healthy and did not mind the chill as much being elves—the dark-haired twins spoke quietly with each other, debating every possible recourse they might take.

"I think we must chance it, muindor. Our supplies run low, and Ada did not foresee such illness as this when he packed the healing supplies. If the elfling worsens we will be too far away from any possibility of aid in time to do any good." Elrohir shot a worried glance at the elfling, rubbing one pale hand over his forehead as he sat upon a rock by the fire.

Elladan stood tall near the entrance, tufts of snowflakes drifting onto his fair features as the wind hissed and screamed its rage to the inhabitants within the tiny cave. "It is madness to attempt this storm, brother," he argued, his face set against his brother's plan. "Do you not hear it? Do you not feel it? The child would only worsen in such weather, and you know this."

Elrohir sighed. "Those are our options—to stay or to go. Neither one sounds good to me. What if this proves to be one of the infamous Mirkwood storms that lasts for weeks? WE can manage, for we are strong and healthy adult elves. The child will surely die."

Elladan turned a dark countenance to his twin. "Listen to him. You can hear his breathing over the roaring of the wind. He is already getting a sickness in his lungs. Exposure to worse cold will seal his fate, Elrohir. We must simply trust to the fates that the storm will not last much longer."

Elrohir sighed sadly, reaching forward and poking at the fire with a stick to build up the declining flames. "And what when our wood supply runs low to feed the fire?" He caught the look in Elladan's eyes as he glanced at the sleeping elfling beside the lone little tree in the cave. "And do not DARE to say we should use the tree as fuel, for that would surely kill the elfling quicker than any cold could do…."

Elladan grimaced, for he had been about to say just such, then met his twin's grey gaze. "Aye, I suppose that is true... I do not think we can risk the outside, however. We must give it more time and say as many prayers as we can manage. Perhaps we will be lucky and someone is missing us by now, though I do not think any search parties would get far in such weather as this."

The usually mild-mannered younger twin cried out softly in frustration, kicking the rock on the ground in front of him and sending it tumbling towards his twin, who reached out a boot and caught it subtly, keeping it ensconced under his foot. "I cannot abide this!" Elrohir cried. "Why must the poor child suffer so?"

Elladan sighed finally, coming to sit down beside his brother and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We cannot foresee why, brother, we can only make the choices we are faced with at the moment. We must trust to the Valar and pray that the little one endures. He is strong, Elrohir. And we are here with him. Things are not as bad as they seem." The elder twin tried to console his brother, feeling the weighty responsibility of being the oldest, if even by a few minutes. It was plain by the look in his eyes that Elladan was nearly in despair as well, but he tended to be calmer and more optimistic than his more emotional brother. It was a trait that served him well in battles, and one his twin usually copied as well, unless, of course, it came to matters of the heart…such as little blonde, favored elflings…

Elrohir managed a smile up at him, recognizing his brother's efforts and not wishing them to be for naught. He placed his hand over his brother's on his own shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He rose then and went over to kneel beside the elfling, whose sleep was becoming fitful as he struggled to breathe through half-coughs and wheezes.

Elrohir placed a slender hand on the small, pale forehead, wincing at the heat radiating off of it. He turned to his watching brother. "He burns," he said simply, and Elladan's face darkened. He grabbed their packs from beside the cave wall where they had stored them along with their more bulky weapons, digging swiftly through the contents for some herbs that might help the sick elfling. He found what he needed, grabbing one of their travel pots from the pack as well and pouring some water into it from his canteen. This he placed over the fire to heat, mixing the herbs straight into the pot and retrieving a cup from the pack that had been recently washed in the snow.

Elrohir placed his hand on the elfling's chest while he waited for his brother to finish the tea. The smell of the herbs spread over the little enclosure, filling it with a heady aroma that made breathing easier, and Elrohir realized why his twin had placed the herbs straight into the pot. Drinking AND smelling the medicine would make it doubly potent—though the younger twin did not know what affects it might have in such strong dosage. He shrugged. Elladan was more knowledgeable about the healing arts, though he was experienced as well as a son of Elrond. He knew his brother would not mix anything that might pose dangers to the young elf. He cared too much for him as it was.

The younger twin closed his eyes, allowing the healing smell to sweep over him as he slipped into a healing state, sending energy into the chest of the elfling in an attempt to lower his fever and open up his breathing.

A few moments later, he opened his eyes to see his twin kneeling beside him, cup in hand and a questioning look on his face. "The sickness runs deep," he responded to the unasked question sadly, "but I think I was able to lower the risk at least slightly."

Elladan frowned, nodding, then held the cup up to the elfling's lips and dribbled the liquid into the elfling's mouth bit by bit, rubbing his throat afterwards to encourage him to swallow. He was slow and careful so the elfling would not get choked. In this manner he fed the unconscious young one the entire cup without causing him to awaken. The tea was laced with sleeping herbs as well. He had decided it would be better for the child to sleep as long as possible so that he would not suffer.

They spend the entirety of Yule alternating care of the elfling. Elrohir would give of his energy to the child, then Elladan would do the same a while later. They took turns preparing and feeding the child the herbal teas as well, having to resort to using melted snow from outside the cave entrance later in the day.

When night fell, nothing had changed. The elfling still wheezed and gasped in air in his sleep, and the storm still raged outside. The twins were exhausted and ready to despair. Elrohir went to stoke the fire once more, then turned to face his twin, arms pressed tightly to his sides and his hands clenched into fists. "We have only three sticks left, muindor. It is not enough to last the night."

Elladan bit his lip, glancing out the cave entrance into the swirling snow beyond. Though sunset was close, it was the harsh storm that cast a dark glow outside the cave, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in either direction. "One of us shall have to find some wood."

"How do you propose we find dry wood when it has been snowing for two days?" Elrohir snapped, his nerves frayed from the stress of the worrying situation.

"We will dig near the trees and find some buried in the ground." Elladan said confidently. "If not, I shall simply ask the trees for branches. None would deny helping for the benefit of a wood elf princeling."

"That wood will be wet as well, brother," Elrohir warned, peering into the storm as well in a searching manner.

Elladan huffed slightly, placing his hands on his hips. "If you cannot come up with a better and viable solution, little brother, than our only other option is this little tree here in the cave."

Elrohir looked horrified as he glanced at the brightly-decorated little tree that had only recently been awoken by their wood elf brother and had brought such happiness to the young elfling. "We must not, Elladan." He looked seriously at his brother, his voice quiet and still. "You know it would destroy him…"

"Would you rather he freeze to death?" Elladan demanded. "Without a fire he will worsen; if the exposure does not kill him first, the disease surely will."

Elrohir looked again at the tree, grief in his eyes as he contemplated his brother's words. He finally turned to meet his brother's steel gaze. "Only if we have no other choice," he amended. "And I MEAN no other choice!"

Elladan looked torn between relief and dismay. "Of course… I do not wish it either. I will go out first to search. I will not be long."

Elrohir nodded. His brother would not back down once he had chosen his decision. There was no point in arguing. Besides he would have his turn as well. Elladan hunched his shoulders against the storm, pulled his hood up over his head, then left the cave in a swirl of cloak.

Elrohir went back over to sit beside the elfling, tucking the blankets in more securely around him and placing an arm over his chest to provide more warmth. He stayed that way until Elladan stumbled back into the enclosure, face red against the cold but an expression of exhilaration in his shining eyes. He dumped an armful of kindling on the ground against the wall and turned to smile at his brother. "The trees were most accommodating! It seems that word has spread that the young princeling is ill and in need of heat. I no sooner stepped into the trees when I was bombarded with various sticks and limbs being flung at me from above. The trees were also smart enough to choose their driest branches. I will let them dry until we completely run out, but we should have enough to last the night at least! We can also hope that if the forest knows, that word will reach Thranduil's people and they will send out a patrol to meet us…"

Elrohir breathed a sigh of relief, casting a glance at the little tree beside Legolas, which had slumped dramatically in the interim, almost as though it knew what the twins had considered; which was a possibility, knowing the wood elf's abilities. The Noldor could communicate with trees to a lesser extent, but they did not have the skills of their wood elf kin, and did not advocate such strong and realistic feelings to them like the wood elves did. Nevertheless, Elrohir could have sworn the tree perked up ever so slightly when Elladan was finished speaking, and he could not help but grin. "The elfling will be pleased," he said happily, reaching over and patting the little tree gently on its top, garnering a strange look from his brother in the process.

Elladan shrugged, as though realizing his younger brother was prone to insanity, and placed another stick on the fire, poking at it to ensure it stay lit. He then came over and sat down beside the elfling. "Let us rest for a while, brother. The fire will last long enough for us to sleep now. Who knows what may come, and we need to rest."

Elrohir agreed, and they both curled up on either side of the elfling, snuggling under the blankets with him and holding him close on either side to help keep him warm. In such a manner they drifted off to sleep, only awakening when the darkness began to grow over the cave as the fire dimmed from lack of fuel.

Elrohir was the first to awaken, and he instantly knew that the necessary warmth was dimming, as was the constantly flickering light. He sprang up, immediately awake, and leapt over to the fire, frantically poking it with one of the few sticks they had left to rekindle the flames. The abrupt movement awoke both Elladan and Legolas, who whimpered in distress at the loss of warmth from the twin, then from pain as he tried to draw in a breath and was met with sharp, shooting pains in his chest. He coughed, curling into himself in anguish when the coughing only increased the pain. Tears began to slip from wide, confused eyes as he looked around for the twins, not understanding what was happening.

Elladan, who had sat up at Elrohir's movement, turned in horror to the young elf, knowing immediately from the sound of the cough that he was direly ill. He scooped the elfling up against his chest, smoothing back his smooth, blonde hair that was slightly sticky from the fever and murmuring comfortingly to him. "Shhh, penneth, just take slow, steady breaths. It will be alright. We will help you."

Large blue eyes looked up at him trustingly as Legolas curled his hand into Elladan's tunic. Elladan began to softly sing as he rocked him back and forth, keeping his eyes locked with the elfling's until they finally began to close amidst more coughing. When he was fairly certain the elfling was asleep once more, wincing at the raspy breathing, he turned to meet his brother's grim gaze from beside the fire where he was preparing more tea.

"I TOLD you we should have continued on!" Elrohir hissed, his eyes shooting darts at his twin. "He is too sick! We have not the right supplies to treat such an illness here!"

Elladan frowned, his own grey eyes beginning to darken in anger. "It would have only worsened him!" he insisted, keeping his voice mild despite his anger for the sake of the sleeping elfling. "Come, brother… let us cease arguing over this matter. It will get us nowhere. We must take what we have now and make our decisions."

Elrohir pursed his lips together as though preventing himself from saying what he really wished to as he nodded curtly to his twin. "Fine then… what DO we have to work with? What is your opinion on the matter now? Shall we stay or shall we go?"

Elladan looked down at the elfling once more, his face pensive as he listened to the precarious breathing coming from the thin body. "I think we must consider risking the weather," he said finally, not even making an attempt to conceal his reluctance. "We must hope that the storm has lessened, or that it at least begins to while we travel. We will have to keep the elfling covered as much as possible. We are… what?... two days perhaps?... away from the keep. The patrols will find us much sooner and will have more supplies than we may have." Elladan sighed and clasped the elfling to him, placing his dark head down against the soft blonde head of the child and closing his eyes. "Let us hope that we do not get lost in the storm," he said sadly as he rocked the elfling.

Elrohir watched his brother for a moment, suddenly feeling bad that he had antagonized him so much over his previous decision. He had a valid point. If the storm did not abate, they could very well get lost. If so, they would all die from exposure, and swiftly. His brother was only trying to do what he knew in order to keep his loved ones as safe as possible. There really wasn't any right or wrong solution in this horrible situation; only the need to do 'something' in order to help the elfling. Either decision could prove to be the wrong one, but it could also mean the difference between life and death.

He sighed bitterly, going to gather up all their supplies once more and place them in their packs while Elladan watched over the child. Now that he had gotten his way, it suddenly did not seem so enticing; in fact, it seemed terrifying. Perhaps they would have been better off staying in the nice, cozy cave—if not for the fact that the elfling would soon deteriorate beyond all hope of salvation if they merely sat around and waited, and the chance of being found by any patrol from Mirkwood was slim to none in such a remote location. Few of the wood elves would think to look in the mountains where the orcs were in abundance, even in the dead of winter.

Ah well, mused the younger twin as he finished packing up the supplies and turned to face his brother, it is done. At least if we die, we all die together! He nodded to his brother, who carefully rose and gathered the elfling to him, wrapping the blankets and cloaks carefully around him.

Elrohir walked over and grabbed up the bedroll, which he hurriedly packed as well. He placed one of the packs carefully on his brother's shoulders, then slung the others onto his own strong back. They would take turns both with the packs, extra weapons—Elrohir was carrying Legolas' smaller knives, bow and quiver—and the elfling, so that their backs and arms could take intermittent rests. With a glance at his brother to make sure he was ready, Elrohir pulled the blankets carefully over the elfling's pale face, then hefted the weight on his back and stepped out ahead of his brother, looking back to make sure he was following him. He would continue to walk slightly ahead to provide as much shelter from the storm as he could to his brother and the young princeling.

The wind swirled the snow fiercely around the lonely trio as they trudged relentlessly through the storm. Thankful that they were elves and at least did not have the hassle of fighting their way through the layers of snow on the ground, Elrohir kept glancing back often to ensure the presence of his brother and the elfling.

They continued on for several hours, when Elrohir heard his twin call out to him through the howling of the wind as they walked across the plains before the Mirkwood forest. Elrohir turned to see Elladan kneeling on the ground, cradling the long-limbed elfling to his chest in an attempt to keep him out of the snow drifts. He hurried over to him, blinking the snow out of his eyes as he dropped to one knee. "We cannot stop here!" he called out, using his mind link as well to ensure Elladan heard him. "We must seek the forest before stopping. The trees will at least provide a little shelter!"

"I KNOW that!" Elladan cried in frustration. "The elfling has awoken, and his fever is worse."

Seemingly oblivious to the sibling argument going on around him, Legolas reached out an obviously trembling, thin hand and clutched at Elladan's tunic. "Elladan… why are we stopping? We will miss Yule… We cannot miss Yule… Ada will be lonely…"

Elrohir turned horrified eyes to meet the equally terrified grey ones of his brother. 'He thinks it is not Yule yet,' he mind-spoke his twin. 'He is ill indeed to get so mixed up!'

Elladan merely pursed his lips together, reaching up a hand through the hood of the cloak to clasp Legolas' cheek and hissing under his breath. "He is burning!" he exclaimed out loud, and grabbed up some snow into his hand, rubbing it frantically all over the elfling's face and neck despite the weak pleas and whimpers of discomfort that the elfling gave at the too-cold feeling on burning flesh. He continued this for some moments before he stopped and looked the young one over carefully, peering into his teary eyes and placing a hand to his reddened cheek.

Elladan sighed, his head falling down for a moment as he whispered a few words that Elrohir could not hear, then turned to his twin. "It has lowered… for now, anyway. Let us swiftly reach the shelter of the trees." He scooped the elfling up, trying to muster a smile as glazed, blue eyes peered up at him in confusion and pain. "I am so sorry, little one. I had to get your fever lowered, and it was the only way I had at the moment. The storm is too bad for anything else."

Legolas looked around him for a moment, trying to peek around the layers of fabric covering his face, only just now seeming to notice the horrible storm. "It is snowing…!" he said in a state of disbelief, the innocent comment causing Elladan to clasp him to his chest even tighter as it reminded him just how ill the child was.

"Aye, penneth. It is snowing," he said softly. "We will be safe and warm soon. Rest now. All is well."

Legolas nodded slowly, awe and confusion still lingering on his fair, thin features as he snuggled back against the firm chest of one of his 'big brothers.' Elladan stumbled on after his twin for some time, thankful to see the line of trees marking the beginning of Mirkwood drawing ever closer. He looked down to see the elfling's eyes closed and smiled in relief, happy that the young one could get some much-needed rest.

Only about a half a mile from the tree line, Legolas suddenly jolted his head up, clutching frantically at Elladan's tunic. "The tree!" he wailed, utter desperation in his voice. "Elladan! Where is my tree?"

Elladan nearly dropped the young elf in shock. He stopped walking and dropped to a squat, making sure to keep Legolas' upper body away from the snow. The youth had reached the gangly age, with long limbs, and it was more awkward to safely hold him.

He pushed back the edges of the blankets and cloaks to better see Legolas' face. "The trees are all ahead, penneth. We are nearly there." He hoped he sounded convincing enough for the nearly delusional child, knowing deep in his heart it would not be enough.

Legolas cast an impatient gaze to the treeline, then glared back at the elder elf. "Nay! You KNOW that is not what I mean! Where is my tree, Elladan? Surely Elrohir has him?" He tried to look around the covers towards the other twin, who was making his way slowly back towards them, apprehension shining clearly on his face, and Elladan knew that he had heard the elfling's wail a moment before.

He clutched the young elf close to him, trying to soothe him. "We could not bring it, penneth. It is nice and safe in the cave. Perhaps you can visit it again sometime."

Tears welled up suddenly in the elfling's eyes, eyes that filled with betrayal and angst and nearly caused poor Elladan's heart to shatter. "He will NOT survive! Twas me that brought him to life, and now he has been left to wither all alone in that dark, dank cave! I cannot leave him! I CANNOT!" He closed his eyes and pressed his face against the elder elf's tunic, breaking into heartfelt sobs of despair.

Elladan held him, rubbing circles on the too-thin back through the blankets as he miserably turned to look at his approaching brother, who dropped down beside him. "I will go back. I should have thought…"Elrohir said sadly, worry on his face.

"Nay! It is too risky! And it will only prolong the trip. It will be hard enough as it is."

"Let us get to the trees and find a little shelter for you both. We are only a few hours away yet. I can travel faster without you and the elfling. I can likely be back in five or six hours."

Elladan pursed his lips together. "First, you wish me to bring him out in this miserable storm against my better wishes. Now, you wish me to keep him out even longer in it because of a stupid tree! Think, Elrohir!"

Elrohir smiled sadly. He had always been able to understand the young wood elf a little more than Elladan, though the elder twin loved him equally with a fierce protectiveness. He placed a soothing hand on his brother's arm as he looked down at the young elf encased in blankets and shuddering in sobbing despair. "I AM thinking, muindor," he said gently. "He is a wood elf. This is not just a childish whim; it is a NEED!"

Elladan peered deeply into his brother's eyes for a moment, then slumped his shoulders and nodded. "You are right," he said, sighing. "Let us hurry with this and hope to find better shelter than before while we wait."