Fan Fiction ❯ Demons in the Dark ❯ Chapter 2

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Italics indicate memory or dreams.

Commonly used Sindarin words:

Ai: Oh!
pen-neth: young one
muindor: brother
gwador: sworn brother, not those by blood
Ada: dad
melethron: lover
a'maelamin: lover
ernil-nín: my prince
ion nín: my son


*~*~*

Elrohir slipped into a light doze while waiting for his twin to return to the manor. It was well after dark, and since his brother had skipped dinner, Elrohir had carried a tray of leftovers and tea to their shared sitting room before settling into his favorite chair in front of the fire to wait.

Noises from Elladan's bedchamber stirred Elrohir, but he remained still, feigning sleep until his brother emerged. The elder twin had taken his hair down, letting the raven tresses fall over his face, and changed out of his stiff riding tunic into something more comfortable. The hairstyle troubled Elrohir; Elladan normally pulled his hair back from his face, only letting it down when he wished to retreat from Arda for a time, to find his thoughts.

Legolas' departure has hurt him more than he would wish us to think, Elrohir thought. The Prince had taken his leave suddenly, but something urgent in Mirkwood could have happened and not left time for explanations. But that had happened before, Elrohir reflected, and Elladan had not been as withdrawn.

Elrohir watched as Elladan passed the food but quietly poured himself a cup of tea, cradling the mug between his hands. He sipped idly as he moved to the balcony. For a long time he simply stood and stared out at the dark valley beyond the manor.

Frowning at his brother's back, Elrohir thought. They had been ready to go riding that morning, when Elrond had called the Mirkwood Prince to his study. Elladan and Elrohir had continued on to the stables while Legolas conversed with their father. Elrohir had taken himself off to the kitchens to fill the water skins, as he always did before any kind of travel, and when he returned he found Legolas' horse, Lach, gone, and his twin furiously pacing.

Something more than an urgent departure had prompted Legolas to leave the valley, Elrohir surmised.

A dejected sigh from his twin prompted Elrohir to move, and after pouring himself a cup of tea, he moved to stand with him on the balcony. Being physically close to Elladan brought the elder twin's emotions into sharp focus. Elladan and Elrohir had always shared a tight bond, each tuned to each other's feelings and occasionally thoughts. Elrohir could feel waves of melancholy and anger alternately rolling off his brother, and he swore he could practically see his twin vibrate with the effort of keeping his calm.

"Legolas is gone," Elladan said softly, not bothering to look up.

"I know," Elrohir answered. "But why so suddenly?" he inquired, he hoped subtly enough to get to the bottom of what had happened. "Surely Thranduil would have given him plenty of time to arrange of his departure?"

Before Elladan could answer a knock sounded on the door.

"It's open," Elladan called from the balcony. Elrohir watched his brother struggle to pull the mask of calm even tighter, managing to appear completely composed when his father appeared.

Elrond stepped onto the balcony with his sons. "I was looking for Legolas," he said, sounding confused. "Erestor still doesn't know what supplies the young Prince will need before he departs in the morning, and I had figured he would be with you, but I shall check his room."

Elrohir looked to his twin. Then Legolas' immediate departure had not been planned? A strong sense of foreboding filled the younger twin. Something serious had to have passed between the lovers, but Elrohir was unable to think of a cause. Legolas was slow to anger, was fiercely loyal and completely selfless. What in Arda could have happened?

"Don't bother, Ada," Elladan sighed. "He is gone."

Elrond arched one dark eyebrow. "I thought he had planned to take his leave come sunrise?"

Elrohir could sense Elladan's calm fading as he turned back to the open expanse of the valley and stared out into the trees, not answering his father. Elladan set the empty teacup on the railing and gripped the ornately carved banister with both hands as he looked out across the valley once more.

"Elladan?" Elrond prompted, touching his elder son gently on the arm to get his attention. "What happened, ion nín?"

Elladan turned to face their father, and as he did, the full strength of his anger and sadness washed over Elrohir, forcing him back a pace against his will.

"I made him leave," Elladan said through a clenched jaw. "I picked a fight with him and I said horrible things about him and his father and I made him leave." Elladan's voice grew louder. "I called him names and accused him of not loving me. I made him leave. I called him a coward, accused him of being ashamed of me and I made him angry and watched him leave without a word and I didn't even get to say goodbye!" Elladan shouted. Lashing out, he hit the nearest wall with a fist, causing little damage to the polished stone.

Elladan stood, trembling faintly as the surge of adrenaline passed and he fought to bring his emotions back under control. Leaving his brother in the capable hands of his momentarily shocked father, Elrohir silently picked the teacup off the railing and made his way inside. He could hear his father trying to calm Elladan on the balcony as he crossed to the door that connected to his bedchamber.

Elrohir left the door ajar behind him as he sought out his box of healing supplies. He had found his talent while apprenticing to his father, and kept his own supplies at hand for the scrapes he and his twin seemed to get into that weren't worth bothering the more advanced healers. It was usually Elladan's skill with words that got them out of trouble when they treated themselves, for Elrond would know of each of his sons' hurts, no matter how trivial.

Elrohir was surprised at his twin's overreaction. It was unlike him to violently release his anger. He was well known to pace or spar with the other members of the border patrol, or disappear for long periods of time when he was vexed. Elrohir knew he was more likely to take his emotion out on whatever was at hand at the moment. It was something he'd struggled with forever, it seemed. Because he was more sensitive to the emotions and moods of others, Elrohir had a problem containing his own at times. Elladan was more capable of keeping a mask up until he could find an appropriate way to vent.

Elrohir returned to the sitting room as Elrond led Elladan into the chair Elrohir had been occupying earlier. Elladan did not resist as Elrohir pressed a refilled cup of tea into his uninjured left hand while Elrond began to examine the bruised and bloodied one.

Elladan didn't say anything as Elrond gently probed at the swollen and bleeding hand. The knuckles had all split and there was some bruising, but nothing was broken. Behind him, Elrohir was sorting the medicinal herbs he wanted and dropping them into the bowl of slowly heating water.

"Do you feel better now? I'm not sure what the wall did to deserve your temper," Elrond asked Elladan as he swiped away some of the blood with a clean cloth Elrohir handed him.

Elladan shrugged, but didn't say anything. His eyes still glowed with barely repressed emotion and he was almost shockey pale, the pallor of his skin contrasting greatly with the darkness of his hair. It didn't appear to Elrohir that his brother had any desire to speak of what had happened any further than he already had. At least not while their father was present.

"Nothing's broken. It should be fine in the morning." Elrond twisted to share a look with Elrohir, still standing at the table behind him. The Lord of Imladris nodded slightly and rose, the exchange going unnoticed by the sulking figure slumped up in the chair. "I shall send word to Mirkwood that the Prince is on his way." Elrond squeezed Elladan's shoulder as he passed, but his son didn't seem to notice. Elrond frowned and looked to his younger son, who nodded his intentions. Elrond excused himself to send word to Thranduil that his son was on the road alone.

"Legolas does love you, Elladan," Elrohir said softly, as Elrond closed the door quietly behind him. "I've seen the depth of your love. He will come back to you, muindor, he loves you too much to stay angry with you." Carefully, he carried the bowl of warm water to where his brother sat and knelt, beginning to bathe the wounds with the warm healing water.

Elladan turned flashing eyes to his twin. "If I am unable to forgive what I said, how can I believe that he will? My words were inexcusable, Elrohir." The frustration rolled off Elladan in waves, and beneath it anger towed in the opposite direction. "He's never going to want to see me again," he said flatly.

The pain coming off his twin was almost enough to make Elrohir physically ill. Elladan was refusing to let it show, but it was lurking beneath the anger and frustration. Gently, he prised the cooling cup of tea out of Elladan's hand and sipped at it, the soothing blend of herbs helping ease the backlash of emotions whirling around him.

When their mother had sailed west, it had been Elladan that kept the family going when the rest were lost in their grief. His quiet strength allowed even the lord of the house time to mourn her passing. When young Estel had developed some mysterious ailment and lay close to death, it was Elladan's grim determination and focus that had kept them all motivated and calm enough to heal the young human.

That quiet strength was dissolving before Elrohir's eyes. Elladan was burying his hurt, covering it up with anger at himself. Though, Elrohir supposed, his brother had every right to hate himself. There was also probably no small amount of anger directed at Legolas, though he doubted his twin would ever admit such a thing. But Elrohir could see the hurt in Elladan's eyes, though his outward demeanor remained angry and frustrated.

With the cup gone, Elladan drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees, his long dark hair falling around his shoulders, and over his face.

Elrohir took Elladan's injured hand again and continued his ministrations. "Legolas loves you, Elladan, and it hurts him to leave you just as much as it hurts you to watch him go. I know this, he's told me. The only thing that has let him leave in the past is knowing that he'd be able to have a homecoming with you in the future."

"There won't be a homecoming this time," Elladan murmured.

"Don't be so sure," Elrohir said softly. worried about the defeat in his twins' tone. "Elladan, you must believe me." He lifted Elladan's chin with two fingers so he was looking into his eyes. There he found the sadness that Elladan had to be feeling, sorrow dimming the usually bright grey eyes.

Elrohir knew Legolas better than anyone save Elladan. Legolas loved Elladan with all of his being, but he still shared a centuries long friendship with Elrohir. When Elladan's duties precluded him from spending time with his lover, Elrohir and Legolas could usually be found together, talking, sparring, or even walking through the Valley in silence. The younger twin knew that Legolas would understand what had driven Elladan to say those things, once they each had a chance to calm down.

"Give Legolas some time, Elladan, then ride out to Mirkwood," Elrohir advised softly. "He will understand, muindor, if you can tell him why you said what you said. You have loved long, Elladan. Too long for something like this to tear you apart. Don't let it. He loves you, and you love him. Go to him. He will understand."

Elladan nodded absently, and Elrohir wondered if he'd any of his words at all. The wounds on his brother's hand had stopped bleeding and had already begun to heal. Elrohir rose from the floor and set the bowl of healing water on the bureau where it wouldn't be knocked over. When he turned back to Elladan, he found his brother staring into the fire, using his thumb to absently twist the ring on the ring finger of his left hand.

Unsure of how to further comfort his brother, Elrohir chose to leave him to his musings for the time being, settling himself on the rug at his brother's feet and reaching back for the plate of food on the table next to the chair he'd been occupying when Elladan had come home. There was a second chair, but Elrohir knew that his brother drew comfort from his touch, as much as Elladan could soothe Elrohir with just a few words.

Though he'd had dinner with his father, Elrohir munched from the plate balanced on his drawn up knee. The evening meal had been quiet; Arwen was in Lothlorien visiting their grandparents, and Glorfindel and Estel hadn't yet returned from escorting her. The absence of Elladan and Legolas hadn't been obvious as such - they often missed common meals when the Prince was in residence. Elrohir had succeeded in keeping his father and Erestor from noticing anything amiss at dinner; they'd asked after his twin and his lover, and Elrohir had plead ignorance.

The Prince's absence would be keenly felt over the next few days, Elrohir thought. It always was, even when Legolas left under more favorable circumstances. Elladan was always mopey for a couple days after his lover left, until he was able to get back into a routine correspondence via the messengers that went between the Elven realms. It would be worse this time, because of the way Legolas had left. But Elrohir was confident that Elladan would return to his boisterous self eventually.

As he thought, Elrohir noticed a bruised hand dip down to his knee and pick a piece of meat off the plate on his knee. He smiled as he watched out of the corner of his eye, Elladan choosing bits of food off the plate, eating slowly, as Elrohir had hoped he would.

"Elrohir?"

"Hm?" the younger twin turned his head toward his brother, trying to look up and over his shoulder.

"You really think Legolas will forgive me?" Elladan sounded contemplative rather than angry or hurt. Maybe he really had heard what Elrohir had been trying to say.

"I do, muindor. He forgave you the time you had to cut his hair off because of the honey. And the time you took his clothes from the river when we were swimming and he had to return to the house naked just as Galadriel and Celeborn were arriving."

"Aye, he did," Elladan chuckled lightly. "But this is so much different. Aiya, Elrohir, I accused him of horrible things."

"Words can't be unsaid," Elrohir said slowly. "But if I know Legolas at all, he will give you a chance to explain."

"I wanted him to leave angry," Elladan admitted softly.

"Why?" Elrohir shifted slightly on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"I thought it would hurt less if I was angry at him for leaving, instead of the way we normally part. I thought that if I could want him to go, it would be easier to let him go." Elladan sighed. "I think I made a big mistake."

"Maybe," Elrohir conceded. "Twas a good idea. In theory." He smiled. "Things will look different in the morning, Elladan. Legolas has to know as much as you and I do that you regret what you said, and that you didn't mean it. Give him time to get home, and send a letter, or ride out there. It's been ages since you've been to Mirkwood."

"There's a reason for that," Elladan said wryly. "He hasn't told our father about us, and the King keeps trying to find him an elf-maid to settle down with."

"I know," Elrohir said. "We've talked about it. He has his reasons, muindor." Elrohir took a breath. "He loves you both, and he's afraid of losing you if he tells his father."

"And now he's afraid of losing me if he doesn't," Elladan sighed. "I am such a fool."

"Yes," Elrohir agreed, earning himself a light smack on the head. That reaction cheered him. Elladan might be upset, but he apparently wasn't going to give into the bleak emotions. "Come," he said, rising in one graceful fluid motion. "Let's go see what sweets the cook left behind." He grinned and extended his hand to his brother.