i 'Death, fire, burning, dead, Ada, Nana, Elrohir… NO!!!' /i
Elladan awoke with a gasp, and sat up quickly. Fiery pain erupted through his body and he cried out, his eyes screwed tight against the pain.
i 'Find them, have to find them!' /i
A firm, gentle hand pushed him back into the soft bed, and someone brushed his hair out of his face.
"Elladan?"
i 'Adar?' /i Elladan thought incredulously. b How/b He opened his eyes. Elrond, relief and exhaustion clearly etched in his face, smiled at him.
"Adar?" his voice was weak, as if it had not been used much, "How? The Balrog…are we dead? It hurts too much for us all to be dead. Where is Elrohir? What happened? Where am I? What is the time? Who-"
Elrond placed a finger against his lips, effectively quietening him.
"There was no Balrog, it was just a nightmare. You are not dead, but you have been unconscious for nearly three days. Elrohir is…nearby," Elladan narrowed his eyes, there was something guarded about Elrond's voice when he spoke of his youngest son. Something was wrong.
"Do you remember what happened?"
Elladan closed his eyes. He remembered the pain, the burning anguish, the fire and shadow engulfing him…but that was a dream. He remembered fear, death, Imladris ransacked by evil…but that had also been a nightmare. So what had happened? He thought back deeper, longer, and then, slowly, he remembered.
[Four days prior
Elladan drew his sword out of the orc, wincing at the squelch that came with the action.
"Anyone badly injured?" Glorfindel yelled from somewhere behind him.
"Elrohir's in a pretty bad way," Bragolan replied. Elladan turned to see the younger warrior kneeling beside Elrohir, a deep gash across his twin's side.
Glorfindel frowned, gazing around at the rest of the group. No-one was unscathed after that vicious battle, but they had to get back to Imladris as soon as possible. The orcs should not be so close to the borders.
Elladan moved over to Glorfindel and murmured, "Half-half. If three of us ride swiftly we can warn Imladris, whilst the other three trail more slowly behind us."
"I thought of that. But if there are more orcs around, especially another group like this…three would never get out alive, especially with one injured."
"Maybe if we bind Elrohir's wound and ride as hard as possible…" Thalion suggested.
Niphredil shook her head, "We have to do something fast, but I think that will cause more damage in the long-run," she said, absent-mindedly scratching an itch on her arm, "Your call Adar."
"You are far too generous Nymph," Glorfindel said, rolling his eyes, before slumping against a nearby tree.
Elladan moved over to his injured twin, "How bad is it?"
"Pretty bad. Moving him is a really bad idea, but we have not got a lot of choice," Bragolan replied.
Elladan scowled, "If we knew the number of orcs…"
Bragolan laid a hand on his friend's arm, causing a cut on the Elladan's upper arm to throb painfully. He winced, that shouldn't hurt that much.
"Something wrong?" Bragolan asked.
"Arm hurts," Elladan said shortly.
Elrohir startled both of them by snorting softly, "What happened to "warriors do not indulge minor wounds" muindor?"
Elladan shrugged, rubbing the cut, causing more pain to flare in it.
"'Dan, get over here," Glorfindel ordered. Elladan rose, feeling sorry for the Captain. He knew how difficult these sorts of decisions were.
Niphredil, still scratching her arm, passed him, going to help Bragolan with Elrohir. He smiled at her. She frowned at him thoughtfully, and he paused. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Glorfindel, repeating his command to Elladan with more force. Elladan shrugged apologetically and went to Glorfindel.
Glorfindel sighed and quietly murmured, "I honestly do not know what to do 'Dan."
"Elrohir's strong Glor, I think we can ride. It will not help the wound, but he and Adar will understand."
Glorfindel sighed again, before pushing himself away from the tree trunk, "Bind Elrohir's wound tight. We ride hard and swift. We will reach Imladris before nightfall."
"Is that wise?" Bragolan asked.
"Nay, but we have no choice," Elladan replied, helping his twin onto his horse. He jumped up behind him and wrapped his arms gently around his younger brother. Elrohir leaned back against him, his eyes slowly closing.
Ten minutes later the six of them were galloping hard through the forest. Elladan's arm had started aching constantly, and he had let it drop to his side, only using one arm to support his unconscious brother.
A thought suddenly struck him, what if the orcs' weapons had been poisoned? They would never make it home!
He opened his mouth to call out, to warn the others, but a sudden flare of pain caused the cry to die in his throat, and all that came out was a strangled gasp.
"Elladan?" he heard someone ask, but he was already slipping down into the darkness that welcomingly engulfed him…
"The orcs blades were poisoned…but we did not realise…" Elladan said.
Elrond nodded, "After you fainted Glorfindel realised something was wrong. They stopped and realised they were poisoned. Glorfindel decided to press on-"
"-Foolish," Elladan muttered.
"He had little choice; he did what he could at the time," Elrond sighed, "By the time you reached here only Glorfindel was conscious. He fought the poison until he had given his report to me."
Elladan smiled, "I would expect no less from him."
A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he quickly sat up. Too quickly. His vision swam, and he fell back onto his pillow.
"Elladan, do you never learn?" he heard his father ask.
"Give me a few decades…or centuries," Elladan laughed. Then he remembered why he had panicked and sat up in the first place, "Adar…Elrohir. How is he?"
Elrond looked over to the left, Elladan followed his gaze. His twin lay in the bed next to him, with his back to them.
"He is weak from blood loss and the poison dreams torment him," Elrond said softly.
"Is there no way to dispel the poison?"
"I have done my best. This poison, this "bane of the night", has no antidote, so thank the Valar it is not lethal. I could only drain the wound site; the poison that is already in his bloodstream must run its course naturally," he tenderly stroked Elladan's forehead, smiling when he found the fever lessened, "Now, drink this," he picked up a cup from Elladan's bedside table. Elladan caught the scent of lavender and olorloth, a herb used for deep, dreamless sleep.
"But Adar!-"
"- No "buts" Elladan. You cannot do anything for your brother save rest and recover your strength so you may be well rested for when he does need you."
Elladan sighed; his father was right. He obediently drank the tea before closing his eyes and slowly drifting off into sleep.
When he next awoke it was dark. He sat up, more slowly than the previous times he had attempted to do so. Although his wounds still hurt he felt more alert, and he guessed the poison had finally left his system.
He looked over to his brother; Elrohir now lay on his back, his breathing uneven; a light sheen of sweat covering his brow.
Glancing around he was surprised, but not necessarily unpleased that he could not see any healers; the only occupants of the room were the six Elves.
Bragolan and Thalion slept peacefully. Glorfindel had his back to Elladan, so it was impossible to tell if he was awake. Niphredil's arm was flung over her face, and she was mumbling softly, too quietly for Elladan to make out any words.
He pushed back the covers, and gently felt for the floor with his feet. He cautiously rose, and managed to walk over to his brother's bed. He sat down next to his twin, softly stroking his brother's hair.
"Are you meant to be out of bed?" Elladan jumped, and looked round. Glorfindel was now on his feet, resting against the wall as he attempted to move across to his daughter's bed.
"Are you?" Elladan replied dryly.
Glorfindel smirked, before grimacing in pain. He took another step and all but fell onto Niphredil's bed.
"She has already been attacked by orcs, poisoned and had terrifying nightmares. Do you have to squish her as well?" Elladan asked laughing.
"Where is your Adar?" Glorfindel asked, ignoring Elladan's jest.
Elladan frowned, why was he making jokes when his brother and friends were so gravely wounded?
"I do not know, I have not seen him since this afternoon…at least I think it was this afternoon…" he laid his hand over his twin's. He gripped softly, feeling his twin's heartbeat. It was irregular but strong, and it reassured him. Elrohir was still alive. He was a fighter, he would survive, "How is Nymph?"
"She burns with fever," Glorfindel's voice was a mere whisper in the dark.
Elladan opened his mouth to inquire after Glorfindel's health, when he suddenly realised his friend and mentor was crying. He felt shocked, the last time he had seen Glorfindel so upset was when they had found his wife…
"Why was I so foolish? I should have realised, I should have known. Nymph's arm, Elrohir's weakness…We should have stopped…but what good would that have done?" He stopped talking and simply sobbed hopelessly.
Elladan's ears turned pink, this was wrong. He shouldn't be here; he felt that he was intruding on something private, something no-one should see.
"They could have all died. 'Ro and Nymph might still die! I am a thrice cursed fool!"
"You did what… you could. Blaming yourself… will solve nothing," Elladan jumped at the sound of Bragolan's drug slurred voice.
"It is my fault!"
"Did you… create the… orcs? Do you command… their forces? Did you put… the poison on their… blades?" A pause, as Bragolan gathered strength for his next words. Elladan stroked his brother's hand. He assumed Glorfindel had shaken his head, as Bragolan continued, "Precisely! You… did your best, and …no-one blames you… for what has happened."
Another pause, and then Glorfindel whispered, "Thank you Bragolan. Stop fighting and go back to sleep, you need the rest."
Elladan guessed Bragolan did as his captain suggested, as his breathing slowed and a gentle snore reached his ears.
Footsteps alerted him to another entering the room. His head snapped up, and locked with the grey eyes of his father's advisor, "Are you supposed to be out of bed Elladan Peredhel?"
i 'This is not good, he used my full name!' /i Elladan thought with a grimace. Aloud he replied, "I cannot leave Elrohir."
"Your Adar will not be-" Erestor was cut off by a scream which made Elladan turn his head quickly.
Niphredil had seized up, every muscle tense, her breathing quick and shallow. And then all Mordor broke loose.
"Nana! No, no, Nana! Ada! Ada help! 'Dan! 'Ro! Where are you! Please… please! 'Dan, please do not let him hurt me!" she started to thrash desperately, trying to escape the clutches of the nightmare demons.
"Erestor, get Elrond. Now!" Glorfindel shouted over his daughter's cries, attempting to hold her still. Erestor had already turned and ran out the door.
Elladan shuddered; his friend's cries were tearing his soul apart. He buried his head into Elrohir's pillow, his twin's raven hair stroking his cheek.
"Nymph, Nymph, it is alright! I am here, everything is alright! Please open your eyes," Glorfindel pleaded Niphredil.
She was lost in her nightmare and apparently couldn't hear him, "Ai no! Please! 'Ro, open your eyes! 'Dan! Oh, 'Dan help!"
A tear formed in the corner of Elladan's eye and fell onto the pillow. There was nothing he could do. He felt so useless.
He heard Niphredil gasp suddenly; he heard chocked sobs and then a weak whisper, "Ada?"
"It is alright Nymph…I am here."
Hurried footsteps informed him of his father and Erestor's return. Someone touched his shoulder lightly, and he sat up into Erestor's embrace.
The advisor gently stroked his hair, the way he had always done when Elladan was scared as an Elfling. He watched his father checking over Niphredil to see if she had torn any stitches.
"Is she alright?" Erestor asked.
"Fine," Niphredil replied before either of the Ellyn could, "Just…Just a bit shaken."
She hissed in pain as Elrond gently touched the skin by the stitches.
"I do not think you have done any harm," he sighed and looked at Glorfindel, "It would be a waste of time to tell you to get back into bed, would it not mellon nin?"
Glorfindel nodded and grinned, "I am not going anywhere…except maybe under some covers…it is freezing in here," he paused and frowned at that thought. Elves weren't supposed to feel the cold, "Do I have a fever?"
Elrond smirked and nodded. Niphredil pushed back the cover a little; Glorfindel slid under it and lay down beside her.
Elladan smiled at the touching scene, and then winced as his father gave him a stern look.
"Elladan, what are you doing out of bed?"
"I…I wanted to see if Elrohir was alright," he swallowed, his mouth was as dry as the Haradric Desert, "Is he…Will he be…Is he going to die?"
Elrond stood still for a few moments looking sombre, before crossing over to his son. Erestor rose and went to the other side of the bed, unwilling to interfere in the private father-son moment.
Elrond sat on the bed and embraced his son. Elladan rested his cheek on his father's chest, listening to the elder elf's heartbeat.
A sudden compelling caused him to open his mouth and start talking, "It was horrible. The nightmare I mean. Everyone was just…and there was a Balrog, and a troll and orcs and… everyone I knew. Everyone I care for…just. Dead…Only…Not Arwen," he frowned, "There were patches were the dream made no sense," he suddenly giggled, "Glorfindel had clothes on in bed," he shook his head, "That should've told me something was wrong," he scowled, "I should've known!"
Elrond didn't say anything, only tightened his grip on his son slightly.
"There were more weird things. Like why Nimdil wasn't in bed with Glorfindel…I mean…it was late already when I ran into his room. And someone mentioned…Nana…" a tear slid down his cheek, "She said it was lucky Arwen was in Lothlórien, but I was too young for Arwen to even have been born. She was not even conceived!"
He sniffed and continued, "No-one called Nymph by her nickname. Her old one I mean…and then an orc ate Lindir's ear," he screwed his face in disgust, "He said it tasted like venison."
Elrond let out a half amused, half disgusted snort.
"And then there were times when Elrohir seemed older than he was…he'd talk as if we were adults on patrol, not Elflings whose home was being burnt to the ground. And there were the pains in my shoulder…"
"I guess that was when I was draining the wound. You twitched and stirred a little in your sleep. I paused and you went back to your dreams."
"Ah…and then there was a "secret tunnel," which does not exist," he shook his head, "So many things, how could I have thought it was real?!"
"Nightmares are often so tithen pen," Elrond gently stroked his eldest son's hair.
They sat in silence for a while, before Elladan asked again, "Will he live?"
"Truefully I know not," he sighed, "It shames me to admit it 'Dan, but there is naught we can do other than pray 'Ro is strong enough to survive," Elrond gave a sad smile as Erestor laid a hand on his shoulder and sat next to him
"He is strong El, he will pull through," Erestor said softly. Although it was unclear whom he was addressing, both half-elves felt oh-so-slightly stronger.
Erestor entered the infirmary, his eyes taking in the scene with one glance. Only Glorfindel's bed was occupied, the other three pronounced well enough to leave the infirmary, as long as they did not over strain themselves. Bragolan and Thalion had resumed training and border watches, although Elrond did not want them to go any further in case a relapse occurred.
Niphredil had resumed half of her duties, spending the rest of the time at Glorfindel's bedside in a chair, where she was currently sleeping, her head drooping onto her shoulder, eyes half shut, staring unseeing at her father's face.
Glorfindel had fought the poison the longest, and, as such, it had left him greatly weakened, so Elrond had insisted on him staying longer as he knew Glorfindel wouldn't rest when told to.
And Elrohir…he gazed down at the still limp form, the young half-elf so different to when he was awake, the bright fire running through his veins that caused a boundless energy and fierce determination, extinguished by the poison's icy bite.
"Is there still no change?" he asked Elladan.
Elrond's eldest shook his head sadly, "His fever has gone down a little bit, but not enough to break," he sighed, "I despair that it ever will."
"Do not say that 'Dan."
"Adar says that if it does not break soon, in the next few days, we will have lost him," the half-elf whispered, bowing his head, his dark hair, falling in a curtain to hide his face as tears slid down his face.
Erestor sighed sadly again, and then he saw something which caused his heart to thump erratically.
"Elladan! He has stopped breathing!"