When the first of the riders made it back, Elrond was already waiting for them. He had already prepared the infirmary, making ready such things as he thought he would need to tend to his sons. Painful memories had threatened to overwhelm him as he did so. All too well did he remember how utterly he had failed once before.

The riders had Elladan with them, wounded, but alive and conscious.

Elrond's heart sank when he saw that neither Elrohir or Glorfindel were with them, but for now, he had one son safe with him.

He would be grateful for that, even while he worried.

His eyes had roved over him before he was even off of the horse, spying instantly the bloodied bandage wrapped tightly around his thigh.

He didn't wait for them to bring his son to him, instead rushing down to meet them.

"Ada." Elladan fell heavily against him and Elrond wrapped his arms around him, both to keep him upright and to hold him closer. He had been so afraid, thinking he might lose them, and now here was one son, safe in his arms. He pressed a kiss into Elladan's hair, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry." Elladan clutched at his father even as Elrond helped him walk. He was favoring one leg over the other, but that was to be expected. "I tried to protect him. I tried, but there were too many and…" He trailed off, seized by one terrible memory or another.

"Hush." Elrond squeezed him a little tighter. The urge to protect, to defend, was welling up inside of him. He knew he would not feel completely at ease until he had Elrohir back safely with him as well. "You are not to blame for what has happened. I know you tried."

He guided his son to a couch, where he sat him down. He knelt and undid the bandage around his thigh, taking a deep breath when the gash became visible. Something- a sword most likely- had sliced across his son's leg.

He had seen many worse wounds than this, but Elladan was his child. It was always different when the injured was someone you so dearly loved.

The skin around the wound was puffy and red. It bore signs of a hasty attempt to treat it and a poultice had already been applied, but Elrond would need to see to it now before it had the chance to worsen.

"It is poisoned," Elladan breathed, eyes not quite meeting his father's gaze. His fingers were gripping the couch, white-knuckled. His breathing was labored.

Elrond stepped back to his side. Cold fingers had wrapped themselves around his heart.

He was not surprised to learn of the poison.

The most common poison Orcs used on their weapons was deadly in large doses, but not so much in small amounts given that its main purpose was to weaken a captive rather than to kill them outright.

Repeated doses over a prolonged period of time on the other hand…

Elrond pushed the thought out of his mind as soon as it occurred to him. Such a thing had not come to pass and was not worth dwelling on.

His son would live. Both his sons would live.

"Ada?"

He turned halfway around to see his daughter standing in the doorway, but her eyes were not on him, but on her brother.

When she saw that her presence was noticed, she stepped into the room. "What happened?"

"Arwen!" Elladan swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to rise, but Elrond stayed him with a hand on his shoulder.

"You are wounded," he reminded him.

"Such foulness!" Elladan flopped dramatically back onto the bed but offered her a reassuring smile all the same. "I promise I'm alright, Arwen," he said softly, but it didn't assuage her fears.

If anything, she waved aside his reassurance as stubborn as her grandmother. "Where is Elrohir? You are injured and I've seen no sign of him yet. What happened? Don't withhold the truth. I'm not a babe that I must still be protected."

Elrond's heart clenched.

She was his youngest child and he had longed to shield her from the world's darkness for as long as he could, more so than her brothers, but that was no longer possible.

Celebrían's torment had shattered what was left of his children's innocence, though anger had not consumed his daughter in the same way it had his sons.

He didn't want to tell her that orcs once again were the reason for her family's suffering. He saw the same reluctance written across his son's face.

But Arwem was right: it would not be right to conceal the truth from her.

She was strong.

The blood of her mother and grandmother ran thick in her veins. He had not given her enough credit.

When her mother had returned to them, it was Arwen who had refused to leave her side, even more than Elrond himself. She had tended to her when other duties had called Elrond away and never once had she wavered.

It was Elladan himself though who answered her. "Orcs caught us unawares."

At her look of horror, he faltered, gray eyes becoming cloudy. The torment was evident on his face.

Without speaking, Elrond reached out and took his son's hand.

Arwen sat carefully on the other end of his bed and took his remaining hand, giving him a meaningful look. "Tell me," she said. She had swiftly mastered her expression. "I can bear it. Don't shoulder this alone."

"There were orcs," Elladan said, speaking slowly. "We did not expect to encounter them nor did we expect their numbers, else we would not have confronted them alone. But we did. We did and Elrohir was the one who paid the price. He pushed me out of the way, down a cliff and out of their sight. I lost consciousness, else I would have never let him be taken. When I awoke, he was gone and I was left to follow their trail." He had to stop to collect his thoughts.

Arwen squeezed his hand sympathetically.

"I could not catch up to them. They had wounded me and the wound was poisoned. But I could feel it. I knew… I knew they were hurting and I could not stop it." Tears brimmed in his eyes. He pulled his hand away from Elrond's and wiped them away. "I know that he is still alive and I also know that he is not okay. He has been hurt when I should have been there to protect him."

A pang smote Elrond's heart. He understood only too well how his son felt.

Elrohir stirred in Glorfindel's arms, but did not fully awake. "Nana…"

Glorfindel tightened his hold and slowed Asfaloth's pace. "Elrohir?"

Elrohir said nothing- his ordeal had left him nearly entirely drained, even with what strength he had poured into his fëa- but his brow was scrunched in distress. He hadn't even regained consciousness.

What was he dreaming of? Glorfindel smoothed a hand over his head, murmuring words of comfort. He couldn't defend against hurts that had already been inflicted, but he could attempt to mitigate the effects afterwards.

"How is he?" One of his Elves had ridden up beside him.

"The ordeal has taken a lot out of him," Glorfindel answered frankly, "but he is strong." He would still feel more at ease once he had delivered the young Elf safely into the hands of his father. "He will live." A surge of protectiveness swelled within him and he tightened his hold on Elrohir.

Yes, Elrohir would live, but any orcs he found in vicinity of Imladris once he had returned the younger of Elrond's twins home would not be so lucky.

He was lost in a bottomless darkness, so heavy he felt it dragging at his spirit. He resisted. He opened his mouth to call for his father, his mother, Elladan, but when he did, the darkness rushed inside of him, choking him. Panic seized hold of him and he thrashed wildly.

Elrohir felt something gentle, yet powerful, nudge his mind. The darkness fell away and the presence enveloped him protectively.

He allowed it to guide him back to awareness.

His limbs felt leaden. He was lying on something soft and downy. No foul smells assaulted his senses, but something still did not feel right.

Slowly, he cracked his eyes open and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. There was a high-vaulted, wooden ceiling above him. He lay in a soft bed, propped up on multiple cushions.

He turned his head and caught sight of flowering bushes. It had been his sister's idea, he remembered, to plant them so close to the healing wing. A good idea. He was grateful to see them now.

His breath caught in his throat.

This was Imladris. He was home.

He was no longer with the orcs, but what had happened? Elrohir had a vague notion of getting ahold of a blade, of cutting through orcs like they were nothing.

He winced as the memories came back, squeezing his eyes shut. Moving brought only a sharp pain to his ribs. He must have made some sound because instantly someone was at his side.

"Hush, now. It's alright, ion nin. I am here." A warm, calloused hand gripped his own. A second hand brushed the hair away from his forehead. "You are safe now." The familiar voice was such a comfort that Elrohir nearly wept with relief.

"Ada…" he breathed, sinking even deeper into the cushions. He grabbed the hand and held it tight.

"How do you feel?" He continued carding his fingers gently through Elrohir's hair.

He thought about it for a moment. "Tired," he finally said. "And my entire body aches, but I am not in great pain."

"I'm glad of it." Elrond smiled, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. Why was he crying?

Elrohir blinked, reaching out a bewildered hand to touch his father's face. "Ada…"

"Oh, Elrohir." He reached out to cup his cheek with the palm of his hand. "I am so glad to see you well. You gave us all quite a scare!"

Guilt stabbed him in the chest. What must his father have endured? He had put him through so much grief.

And Elladan…

He hadn't seen his twin since he had shoved him down a hill. Was he hurt?

He struggled to sit upright, only giving up when his father placed a firm, unwavering hand against his chest. "You must rest, my son. What you've been through has taken its toll on you. Glorfindel told me all he knows of what happened."

Elrohir obeyed, falling back against the pillows. "I don't rightly remember much of it myself," he admitted. "It all seems to me like a muddled dream."

More a nightmare than a dream, but his father only waited patiently for him to continue.

"I thought they were going to kill me. I…" His mouth was dry. His fingers gripped the coverlets, clenching and unclenching.

Now that he was safe, the true horror of what his situation had been was dawning on him.

He'd thought he would share the same fate as his mother. He had expected torture and a slow death.

His breath hitched much to his dismay and he pressed a fist against his lips. Immediately, his father had his arms around his trembling frame, guiding his head down to rest on his shoulder.

Elrohir clung to his father's robes, racked with sobs he could no longer hold back.

"You're safe." Elrond stroked his hair and held him tightly, rocking him as though he were a child. "You're safe, dear one. They cannot touch you here." He held him for as long as Elrohir needed it, until he had dried his tears as best he could, and then some. He was reluctant to let him go and Elrohir did not want him to.

"What of Elladan?"

"He was quite desperate to see you." As if sensing his next question, Elrond said, "Don't worry. He was injured, but he is well on his way to recovery. We were all far more worried about you, dear one." He placed his hand on Elrohir's arm. "I'll tell him he's free to come and see you now." He smiled. "It was hard enough keeping him away for as long as I did." He rose, but Elrohir caught his sleeve before he could leave.

"Wait! Ada, there's one more thing I must tell you."

Elrond turned expectantly and, for a moment, Elrohir's resolve faltered. If he shared this, would it reopen the wound which had only just begun to heal? But he could not hide this from his father and certainly his twin would glean it from him sooner or later thanks to their bond.

"When I was held captive…" Tears pricked his eyes and he had to look away.

Elrond quickly took his place back at his side. "Take your time, ion nin," he said. "Don't push yourself."

"I… When they had finished, I… I saw her." The expression on his father's face told him Elrond knew exactly who he was talking about. "I was almost ready to give up when she came to me." He remembered the initial terror that had gripped him in that moment. "I didn't know how it could be possible. I thought they had taken her again." He gripped the bed sheets to hide the trembling of his hands. "But I think… I think seeing her is what gave me the strength to fight them."

His father laid a hand over his and he sat back on the edge of the bed. "I had wondered about that," he admitted. "I did not want to ask you until you had recovered or brought it up on your own. Glorfindel had said that when he found there was not a single orc left alive."

The realization floored him. "And I…?" He shook his head. "I remembered small amounts, but… it didn't seem real."

"You were unconscious when he found you. Small wonder at that." Elrond's eyes twinkled. "This is the sort of thing they sing songs about."

"I don't know. It wasn't very heroic of me to get myself captured."

"Think of Beren. Or Finrod." Elrond patted his knee. "You sacrificed yourself for your brother. That's more heroic than anything I can think of."

"I don't know about that." The thought was too overwhelming. "I want to see Elladan," Elrohir said finally. He tore his eyes away from his father, too overcome with the multitude of emotions to comfortably look him in the eyes.

"And you will." Elrond squeezed his hand. "I'll get him for you."

Oh, Elrohir…

Elrond brushed a strand of hair away from his son's face, feeling such a swell of love in his heart that he could almost forget the fear he had felt. He had come so close to losing them both.

He didn't want to imagine what his life would be like without them.

Elrond stepped out of the room to find his other two children waiting outside. Arwen was supporting Elladan, who had evidently been unable to wait a moment longer. Not that Elrond could blame him.

Elladan looked worried.

Arwen looked determined.

"How is he?" Elladan demanded immediately.

Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder. "Asking for you. Does your leg pain you?"

"Not terribly at the moment." Elladan shrugged as best he could with Arwen under one shoulder.

She was watching him.

He placed his other hand on her shoulder and met her gaze levelly. She understood what he was asking of her without him speaking aloud, even if she didn't like it.

But she stepped back and allowed Elladan the space to enter on his own. The twins needed a moment of privacy after what they had been through.

He shut the door gently behind him once he had entered and turned to his daughter, putting his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"How do you fare?" he asked her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I am well," she answered, pulling away to look him in the eyes. "But I'm not the one who is hurting." She glanced at the door, but she understood as well he did that they needed this time together.

"That is not entirely true, is it?" Gently, he touched her shoulder.

Arwen looked at him, startled, but she need not have been. Elrond knew them all far too well.

"This has opened old wounds in all of us."

Her expression wavered and she looked away. "We have suffered enough," she said. "This world has taken my mother from me. I won't let it take my brothers."

"We will not," Elrond corrected. He cupped her face with the tenderness only a father could possess. "They are lucky to have such a sister as you."

She tossed her head, but her expression turned thoughtful. "As I am to have them," she said softly. She gave him a conspiratorial look.

"I'll tell no one you said that," Elrond assured her.

No words immediately needed to be said between them when the brothers reunited; they had both already lived through the other's pain.

Elladan flung his arms around his brother, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Elrohir hugged him back just as tightly.

"Don't ever do that to me again," Elladan murmured.

When they pulled apart, Elrohir smirked. "Didn't you hear? They're to be singing songs in my name."

"Oh?" Elladan raised an eyebrow. "Would that be why you pushed me down a hill then?"

"Yes. It was all part of my evil scheme to steal the glory."

Elladan dramatically flung his head back, draping an arm across his face. "Alas! I've been cursed with a devious little brother."

Elrohir slapped his arm. "Ten minutes," he hissed. "I am ten minutes younger than you. That's hardly anything."

"Ah, but it is enough."

The door cracked up and Elladan sat up straighter. Was it their father returning to check on Elrohir?

"Arwen!" Elrohir tried to rise and winced when doing so reminded him of his broken ribs.

Arwen had grown tired of waiting outside, but she still hesitated on the threshold for just a moment before sprinting forward and throwing herself at both of her brothers. "For the record," she said, voice thick, "I think you're both stupid."

The twins sputtered in protest, but she only hugged them both tighter.

"If you ever think of doing anything like that again…" she warned.

"It was Elladan's idea," Elrohir protested weakly.

"My idea?" Elladan stared at him, aghast. "You're throwing me beneath the horse?"

"Well, you are older…"

"By ten minutes!"

Elrohir shrugged. "That didn't seem to matter two minutes ago- Ow! Arwen, make him stop!"

Elladan had grabbed ahold of his ear and given it a sharp tug.

"What am I going to do with either of you?" Arwen shook her head, pretending to be exasperated, but they could both see that she was fighting a smile.

"Do you blame yourself?"

"I am their father. How could I not?"

Elrond's hands were clasped and he had a faraway look in his eyes that Glorfindel had not often seen from his friend. He was losing himself to his own memories. His failure to protect Celebrían still weighed on him.

Having never been married, this was not a pain Glorfindel could empathize with. He could, however, sympathize. He knew what loss felt like.

"They have strong hearts and minds." He thought back to his days of training the twins. They both were possessed of a warrior's heart. "They will see each other through this."

Elrond leaned back in his chair, expression thoughtful. He picked up his glass, eyeing the honey-colored liquid before he set it back down. "Some things are too great for only one person to carry," he mused. His gaze grew distant and his hand drifted to cover his ring.

"Elrond," Glorfindel began, looking at him earnestly. "You should think more on how that applies to yourself."

Elrond smiled sadly. "That luxury is not mine to indulge in."

The One had not been found yet, but Sauron's attention would still fall on Imladris sooner or later. When that happened, they would need to pray that they had the strength to withstand him.

He stirred, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. "You cannot carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders."

Elrond offered him a dry smile. "I can try."

Glorfindel did not smile back. "It will crush you."

"You would not let it."

This time, Glorfindel did smile. "No. I would not."