Disclaimer: None of Tolkien's characters nor the world of Middle Earth are mine and I do not aim to make any money from this story. I merely borrow the toys and play in the sandbox.

Rating: PG-13 (T)

A/N: I'm very sorry that it took me so long to post a new chapter, but RL has been rough. In fact I thought it would take me a lot longer to find my 'writing mojo' again, but then, this morning, I read a wonderful review and then a couple more as I finally caught up on replying to reviews and I felt so incredibly grateful and motivated.

So as a thank you to everyone who left reviews on any of my stories, I worked hard to get you this next chapter. You are all amazing!

-o0o-

Gravity

Chapter 4

Legolas glanced up at the sky above. Dark clouds still shrouded Arnor's light making it appear as if evening was already approaching. Perhaps it was. Legolas had to admit that he did not exactly know what time it was. How long ago was it that he had left Rivendell together with Elrohir? How much time had passed since the younger twin had disappeared over the edge of the cliff when the ground beneath his feet had given way?

He couldn't say. Not for certain at least.

It felt like hours had passed before he had even reached the twin's side, though it could not have been more than a few minutes. Even longer seemed the time that he had fumbled helplessly, trying to make himself remember his lessons, remember anything useful that would help the injured twin.

For all the good that it did, he mused grimly. Helplessness threatened to overtake him again as Legolas glanced down at Elrohir's face. It was painfully pale, as if the very energy of life was draining from the dark haired elf. Elrohir's eyes were tightly closed and Legolas was not sure whether the twin had succumbed to unconsciousness again or whether he was merely too exhausted to keep his eyes open. In either way, Legolas thought it best not to disturb him.

He looked at the wall of rocks and debris that barred the path next to them. Many of the smaller rocks had fallen close enough that he could reach out and touch them. It was a miracle Elrohir hadn't been buried beneath the rock slide in the first place. The fact that he had managed to walk away from it, if only by a few steps, was an even greater one.

And yet…

Again Legolas' gaze landed on the deathly pale face of his friend. The dark red of drying blood was a stark contrast against the ghostly white skin. And even though a part of Legolas was glad to see the flow of blood from the wound on the twin's forehead had finally stopped, another, more irrational part, had hoped to see fresh blood; if only to convince himself that it was still flowing within the twin's veins, still circulating, still keeping him alive.

A sudden noise made the young elf's head snap up sharply. Was he starting to imagine things? Over the rush of the Bruinen it was hard to make out any other sounds than that of crushing waves, but he could have sworn…

It came again, faint across the sound of the thundering waters but unmistakable. His name - someone was calling for him.

Hope soared within him as he realized what that meant. For a moment the emotion overtook him and his voice faltered as he tried to answer the call, tried to let the other person know they were here, both of them. Alive.

When his voice finally returned he answered the call. "We are here!"

He gently lifted Elrohir's head off his lap and got to his feet. The shout had come from beyond the pile of rubble that was the rockslide. Coming to stand in front of it he repeated his answering call once more.

Then he waited.

-o0o-

The rushing of the raging waters was deafening. Elladan tried to blend it out, to make sure he would hear any possible answer to his call, no matter how unlikely it might be.

Then: "We are here."

It was faint, barely audible above the background noise, but there. To Elladan, who had been listening intently, it seemed as clear as if Legolas had stood next to him - and his heart sang at the word 'we'. Elrohir was with Legolas, and despite the dull echo of the pain he could still feel from his twin, despite the fact that he didn't know how bad Elrohir's injuries truly were, hope rose in his chest.

Without taking the time to have second thoughts Elladan approached the rock slide again, and, within moments, scaled the steep hill of loose debris. Nothing would keep him now from reaching Elrohir's side.

The rubble beneath his hands and feet was still wet and slick with mud, but Elladan did not care. He moved with all the inherent grace of the elves, never faltering in his steps, in his mission. Within mere moments he had made it to the top of the mound of rocks that had formerly been part of the cliff face and started down the other side. A small part of him was dimly aware that the others were following him now, trusting his judgement that the path he was taking was safe. He hoped they were right, for in his hurry he paid little heed to the dangers of scaling the crumbling rockslide.

It wasn't until he was almost at ground level on the other side that he actually saw Legolas. The blond elf was waiting for him to reach his side, reluctant to step further away from Elrohir.

Elrohir! Elladan's eyes strayed from the disconcerting amount of fear mirrored in Legolas' face to the still form of his twin. From his current position he could not make out the extent of injuries covering his brother's body, but he could still feel his pain, could almost imagine hearing his laboured breathing.

He hurried his steps.

"Legolas", Elladan forced himself to stop for a moment and acknowledge the younger elf. He rested one of his hands on the other's shoulder, squeezing it gently. Conveying the message that the young elf was not alone anymore. Help had come.

There was relief in Legolas' gaze as his and Elladan's eyes met, but the woodland prince quickly turned his head, directing both their gazes back to Elrohir. The older twin let his hand fall off his friend's shoulder and was at his twin's side with two quick steps. He knelt down and gently lifted Elrohir's head into his lap.

"Oh, Ro", he murmured, "What did you do this time?"

He gently brushed a strand of Elrohir's hair behind his ear, trying not to flinch at the sight of the dried blood that marred his twin's forehead and cheek. The skin beneath the dark red stains was ghostly pale.

Roused by the gentle touch Elrohir's eyelids fluttered open and the hint of a smile ghosted over his lips. "I knew … you'd come."

"Shh, don't speak" Elladan chided his twin, dismayed at the wheezing sound to his brother's breathing and the difficulty he clearly had with forming words. "Ada will be here in a moment."

He rested his hand on Elrohir's chest, fighting for a moment the urge to send out his own healing energy, if only to see just how extensive his twin's injuries truly were. But their bond made healing each other nearly impossible and he would serve neither his brother nor their father by attempting it now. Elrond had been right behind him, surely he could wait a few seconds longer.

The lord of Imladris was the next person to scale the rubble of the rockslide. Disregarding the wellbeing of his clothes he more slid then climbed down the other side in his hurry to reach his sons' side.

"Lord Elrond", Legolas stammered when he saw him, falling into step beside his current teacher in the healing arts, "I am so sorry, I didn't know what to do. He fell and I, I didn't know -"

Elrond turned to the young woodland prince then, disregarding for a moment the need to reach his sons' side and focusing instead on the needs of the blond elf beside him.

"Do not worry Legolas", he said and his voice was calmness itself. It held no hint of the worry he felt, as he strove to reassure the younger elf. His eyes flickered over to his sons, Elladan gently cradling his twin's head in his lap, leading a silent one-sided conversation. "It appears you did not move him which could have aggravated his injuries and instead have stood beside him to provide care. You did well, Legolas."

Elrond held eye contact with Legolas for a while longer, assuring himself that the younger elf would register the words he had spoken and see the sincerity in his eyes.

Legolas shoulders sagged as he released the tension he hadn't realized had built up within him. Elrond let go of the young prince's shoulder and turned around. By now Glorfindel and most of his warriors had crossed to the other side of the rockslide as well and the golden haired seneschal instructed his men to form a protective perimeter around them. It was not more than a precaution, and was designed as much to keep the elves busy as it was to assure that no further harm would befall the perdhel family.

Elrond paid them little heed, now focused entirely on his two sons. Elladan was trying to hide his worry but it was a feeble attempt at best and Elrond's heart went out to his oldest. Thanks to the bond the twins shared he would be intimately aware of just how much pain Elrohir was truly in, something that, he had noticed, Elladan had not been keen on sharing.

A few more strides brought Elrond to his sons' side. He kneeled opposite of Elladan on Elrohir's other side, noting with some relief that Elrohir's eyes were open and he seemed coherent. Elladan stopped in his reiteration of their journey here, which he had, Elrond guessed, only brought up to distract his twin from his pain.

Pain that was still all too visible in Elrohir's face, in the way the muscles around his mouth tightened at the slightest movement of Elladan and in the shadow that seemed to dull the spark in his grey eyes.

"Relax, my son", Elrond murmured. It was as close to 'Ada is here' as he allowed himself to say to his now grown sons. With infinite care he gently laid one hand on his son's chest and the other on his forehead. The touch was feather light, as he feared that even the smallest additional pressure might cause Elrohir further pain.

He closed his eyes as he summoned the healing abilities that had been a gift to his family granted by their Maiarin ancestry. With a rush of warmth his powers responded. They were akin to a living thing in their intensity, like tendrils of light that rushed through his son's body, evaluating and probing his injuries. He brushed past superficial scratches and the bruises that were even now forming along Elrohir's back and side. A deeper gash was the one he had seen on Elrohir's forehead, but he had not observed any signs of a possible concussion so he ignored it for now as he probed deeper.

It was not long until he ran into the obstacle he had expected. Appearing like a thick black coil of coalesced pain that centred on his son's chest, the injury withheld the soft probing tendrils of his healing power. He intensified the flow of the energy to breach the darkness.

Feeling more than seeing the true extent of Elrohir's injuries now, the father in him blanched. But the healer continued his ministrations and, drawing upon the very strength of his feä, Elrond released the full potential of his healing power, as he coaxed bones to realign and tissue to mend beneath his touch.

Without this ancient magic, this remnant from the time of Melian, he knew, Elrohir might not have survived. A sudden gratitude for this most useful of family heirlooms flooded through him even as more energy was drained away, flowing freely now into his son, healing the damage to the punctured lung and persuading tense muscles to work harder, to re-inflate the organ that had slowly been filling with blood.

Next to him Elladan looked on anxiously, watching as the light around his father and twin intensified. The feä of Elrond seemed to expand, to envelop Elrohir in a magic enthused embrace. He had observed this before, more often than he should have liked, and could almost feel the energy leaving his father, and though it provided much needed healing for his beloved twin Elladan grew weary as it continued. The longer the trance lasted the more the colour seemed to leave his father's face, leaving his skin ashen and sickly. And yet Elrohir's condition did not seem to improve. His breathing was still shallow, still came in short strangled gasps, and he kept his eyes firmly closed, making it harder for Elladan to gauge the pain he was in.

Maybe, he just failed to see the improvement? Was he too focused on his grief and fears that he could not see that his twin was healing, was on the mend? Elladan closed his eyes. With a deep, steadying breath he centred himself and then reached for the twin bond that connected him to Elrohir. Now that he did not rely on what his eyes told him he could feel the energy coursing through Elrohir's body thanks to their father's ministrations. He shifted his attention from the rush of the golden energy and tried to grasp his brother's emotions instead.

A nearly overpowering urge to convince himself that Elrohir would indeed be fine, guided his actions. It was difficult to get a read on Elrohir's pain and feeling while the bright energy of their father coursed through his body, but he tried. Focusing entirely on his twin, he felt less pain now, less confusion. Instead Elladan could sense –

Hasty words, whispered in harsh tones in his immediate surroundings pulled Elladan from his concentration and made him lose his tenuous grasp on their bond. He looked up to see that Amrothion, clearly out of breath, had run up to Glorfindel and was talking to him in hushed tones. The balrog slayer's face was grim.

Glorfindel gestured for his remaining warriors to join him and cast a questioning gaze at Elladan. The older twin was torn. He looked at his father, still deep within the healing trance, and knew that he was not needed here at the moment, still he was loathe to leave his brother now. Gently, so as to neither disturb Elrohir nor their father's healing, he lifted his brother's head from his lap and stood to his feet.

Taking the raging emotions and the worry for Elrohir that were still coursing through his veins and shutting them firmly into a corner of his mind, Elladan joined his commander. For a moment Glorfindel just regarded him silently, clearly hesitating. Their situation was bad.

He gazed past the twin to where his lord was kneeling by Elrohir's side on the hard ground of the river path. "I guess we won't be able to move Elrohir and your father?" he asked, though he could already guess the answer.

Elladan shook his head. "No, not when he is this deep in a healing trance, any interruption might break his concentration and could do serious harm – to both of them."

Glorfindel nodded, it was as he had expected. "Orcs are approaching", he explained for Elladan's benefit for the older twin had been too far away to hear Amrothion's report. Elladan's face fell at the news, an uneasy feeling spreading through him that was confirmed by the balrog slayer's next words. "From the description it seems they are the ones you and Elrohir spotted last night – a band of about sixty. They must have continued on their march through both night and day."

There was no judgement in the golden-haired elf's voice. He lay no blame upon the elven twins and the error in their report. Orcs were unpredictable creatures, and the overcast sky had granted them the chance to move during daylight, which would have been difficult to foresee.

And yet Elladan berated himself for their easy assumption that the orcs would make camp when in truth it seemed they had only taken a break. He despaired at the consequences this could have. His brother was still gravely injured, his father in a healing trance that could not be broken and rapidly running out of energy.

That left eight elven warriors against a troupe of sixty orcs, not good odds on a normal day, certainly worse with the added need of protecting his brother and father and the young woodland prince that was under their care.

"Set up a defensive perimeter in two lines", Glorfindel commanded his warriors, interrupting Elladan's thoughts. "Amrothion, Baranir, Tarion, position yourself at the bend in the path. Do not give way. You others", he turned to address the remaining warriors, "form a line twenty yards behind us so we can fall back if necessary."

"That includes you, Elladan", Glorfindel added before the older twin could speak. He had not turned to join the other elves in their allocated positions and Glorfindel could see the fire of an argument burning in the grey eyes of his lord's son. Elladan was not one to stand back in battle and let others fight for him, not even if part of him yearned to stay at his brother's side regardless of the advancing orc force.

Still, the tone Glorfindel had used brooked no argument and Elladan knew better than to challenge the decision of the captain of Imladris' defences. It would be both foolish and pointless. He cast one last look at his father and brother, still surrounded by the soft glow of Elrond's healing energy, the only testament to the battle his father was fighting even now.

Elladan hesitated a moment. Then he turned back and made his way over to Legolas. Standing almost forlornly at the base of the cliff, neither wanting to risk interrupting Lord Elrond's healing trance nor being presumptuous enough to ask Glorfindel to be involved in the fighting, the young elf looked lost.

"Legolas" Elladan said, catching the younger elf's attention. He reached out a hand to clasp his bow and removed the quiver of arrows from his shoulder. Maybe the prince couldn't fight in the battle, but he was good with the bow and he would be able to do what Elladan needed him to.

"Will you protect them for me?"

No explanation was necessary as to whom he meant as Legolas understood instantly. The woodelf's gaze flickered over to Elrohir and Elrond, still in the middle of the path, exposed to all dangers if their defences should fail.

Instantly the lost look left his eyes to be replaced by a gaze of steely determination and he met Elladan's gaze firmly.

"Yes", he said and reached out to take the bow from Elladan's hands. His grip on the ashen bow was steady and firm and he swung the quiver over his shoulder with practiced ease.

This he could do.

And he would not disappoint the trust Elladan had placed in him.

With a final nod that conveyed his gratitude, the older son of Elrond turned around and hastened to his appointed position in the second line of Glorfindel's defences.

Nine elves, now.

It was better than eight.

It would have to be enough.

-o0o-

to be continued…