Irime awoke the next morning, much earlier than she normally did. The incident with Elladan still was fresh and clear in her mind. He had known she was promised to Legolas, but yet . . . . . She was so baffled by his admittance that she had found it hard to focus on anything else. She and the prince had been planned to marry within the year, but now everything had changed, for seemingly the worse.
Then there was a knock on the door, and she quickly got up and threw a cloak around her shoulders, unaware that it was one that Elrohir had given her many years before. The gift of a dead Peredhil, and a dear friend.
Irime opened the door only to see Lord Elrond staring stoically at her. "My lord." she said, bowing.
"Elladan has left. I thought you may find that interesting." he said, more harshly than he had meant.
She nodded, "That I figured, lord. Though why would he act as he did, knowing my engagement to Legolas?" she asked, knowing all too well that he knew exactly what had happened. The High Lord of Imladris had the gift to read the minds of many, and she also had a feeling that it was probably nothing short of obvious that something had come between them.
He shook his head. "I am unsure, Elladan has always been a mystery to me. He did not mean to hurt you, he has always loved you, but he knew that your heart would only direct its course wherever Elrohir went, and that vexed him. He knew that you would always love Elrohir, and that even though you grew apart, your hearts could never be severed." Elrond said gently, as if speaking to a child.
"I have not seen Elrohir in many years, lord, and I do not understand of what you speak."
He laughed, "You shall understand in time, child." Then he left, leaving Irime trying to figure out his words.