Elerrina

Vilya

The familiar room looked exactly the same as it had the few times she had visited it, but it felt incredibly strange to her at that moment. The elegant, welcoming study felt empty, lifeless, as if its very soul had suddenly vanished, reducing it merely to another spacious room inside the house. A fire roared vividly on the fireplace, its red flames dancing smoothly, cracking every now and then as they burned the wood that fed them, but she could not feel its warmth.

None of the elves had said a word as they entered the large study, probably feeling the same way she did. They had not knocked on the door for they knew its usual occupier would not be inside. Part of her had almost hoped to find the tall dark haired figure sitting behind the finely crafted desk, but they were faced with the cold image of an empty chair.

The large desk was covered in parchments and scrolls, the fine crystal ink flask open with an exquisite quill lying next to it, even a book laid upon the oak surface, its yellow pages opened near the middle. Everything about the room remained untouched, in the exact place it had been left, and it seemed as it Lord Elrond would waltz in at any second, tall and powerful as ever with his kind eyes smiling at them.

Glorfindel and Elrohir walked directly towards the seats by the fire, Elerrina following closely behind, the three of them completely silent. The golden haired warrior handed them each a warm blanket and she suddenly remembered her drenched dress and hair, which dripped over the rich carpet. She watched hopelessly as Elrohir sat heavily on one of the cushioned chairs, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands cradled his head, his damp raven strands of hair falling forward as his eyes focused on his lap. He looked miserable, and she felt that way too.

"Elrohir, can you reach your father through your bond?" Came Glorfindel's calmed voice as he sat on the seat directly in front of her, next to the younger twin.

She stared at the dark haired elf as he remained unmoving, his face hidden from view. Silence settled inside the room as they waited for long minutes, and her mind travelled back to Elladan; to the way his silver eyes had shut tight to hide his pain, the way he dangerously swayed on his feet as his strength faded from the blood loss, and she wished to be by his side. Finally the younger twin's voice echoed through the room.

"He is alive, although unconscious" The hurt in his voice made Elerrina's heart shatter as she watched Elrohir's still figure, his head still cradled in his hands, looking down.

"They came for him. That was their only purpose: to capture him." The younger twin muttered without lifting his gaze to meet anyone, his voice cold with fury, distant. "Why did no one notice the orcs were looking for him? Why did no one see them take him while they retreated?"

"Where you not at the fight? Did you not see the house? It was a complete chaos both outside and inside. It seemed as if Mordor itself had fallen over us. There was not a way in Arda anyone could have had the smallest idea of what was happening. I believe that was the purpose of their ambush: to confuse all of us, catch us by surprise in a fight while they looked for Elrond." Said Glorfindel addressing Elrohir directly.

"I know that. I could barely see what was happening around me." Snapped the dark haired elf lifting his head to direct his gaze at the Balrog Slayer.

Elrohir's characteristic kind silver gaze was now iced, hard, burning with hatred as it glared into the warrior's blue ones. Her body tensed at the unfamiliar sight as she involuntarily sunk back in her seat. Her heart hardened with sadness; this was barely the same elf she had come to know.

The golden haired warrior showed no reaction to the iced glare. His expression remained the same, a calmed mask that would not break, and she wondered if perhaps he had anticipated that kind of reaction from the younger twin. She watched, frozen, as Elrohir lowered once again his head to his hands.