Not Again?!

Chapter 8

I was going to do Lindir, but Glorfindel stole the spotlight! Rude, rude Glorfy! (I'm sure you don't mind though;). Ioreth also ordered me to have some of her in the next chapter, so what do I do but obey! (The plot bunny is cackling in the corner, I swear I'm going to make rabbit soup).

Elrohir was alone.

An ache burned in his heart, reminding him of what had vanished. Everything around him blurred as he tried to stand, and though he could faintly hear his father speaking, he did not seem to notice.

"Elladan is gone?" Lord Elrond was repeating.

Was he gone? His torn fëa told him it was true - how could this have happened? Imladris was a valley of peace . . . dimly, Elrohir realized his thoughts were going in circles. How had his father been able to stand having his twin dying of mortality? He had never heard much of his uncle Elros, but he knew he had chosen to live as a mortal and died of old age . . . was this how it felt when the one who shared your soul died?

"Elrohir!" Someone was shaking his shoulders. It was his father.

"Where is Elladan?" Elrond called frantically to his son, trying to get through to him.

Elrohir just slowly shook his head, numb with disbelief.

Not knowing what had happened, or what to do, Elrond decided on instinct to take his son to find the other twin. What else could he do? Swinging the partially-delirious Elrohir's arm over his shoulder, the Elf lord left his office, heading for the chambers of his sons.

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"Thank you, you can leave," Glorfindel assured the two ellith who were fluttering nearby, worried over Elladan.  They exchanged glances.

"We'll go get our books," one said, "then come back and check on him." That decided, they hurried away to fetch the books they had left on the other side of the courtyard.

Glorfindel turned back to Elladan, seeing Lindir bent over the unconscious twin. The minstrel was far too kind-hearted, that Glorfindel had decided long ago. He was brushing back Elladan's hair, but suddenly recoiled backwards, landing hard on his backside. What just happened?

"Has he woken?" Glorfindel asked, leaning forward to check for himself. The twin's dark lashes were flickering, and then his eyes came completely open. But his eyes were not the normal warm silver-blue that they usually were - they were black and seeping darkness. The Balrog-slayer frowned and leaned forward; he sensed something . . . wrong. Placing his hands on Elladan's chest, he said, "Elladan? How is your head? You fell."

His eyes were all the way open now, and stared up at Glorfindel.

What in Arda was going on with his eyes? Glorfindel was no healer, but he had bound plenty of wounds himself, and helped many a warrior when they had been hurt in a patrol. Head wounds were nothing new to him, but this was something else, something . . . different. Wrong. "Elladan," he tried again. "Listen, penneth. Are you well? Does your head pain you?" Calmness was the key . . .

There! A flicker of recognition. Something flashed in those soulless black eyes, and then Elladan did something Glorfindel did not expect. He jerked backwards, kicking the Elf lord in the chest with his left leg, flinging him backwards. That had not been anticipated. Landing on the hard stone jarred his back and sent his golden hair flying; Glorfindel barely blinked and the twin moved again, this time kicking Lindir in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Glorfindel had no idea what was happening. Was Elladan reliving some memory from the past? Imagining them to be orcs? Leaping to his feet, Glorfindel threw his hands out in a calming gesture as Elladan crouched, looking like he was about to leap at him. "Elladan Elrondion!" Glorfindel snapped, trying to pull the twin out of the trap in his mind. "Pay attention to me!"

The cold eyes turned toward him, and Glorfindel almost flinched. There was a feral look to them that told the Balrog-slayer that something important was missing in the twin's mind. His silence was unnatural, wrong for one of the sons of Elrond. They were the laughter of Imladris, not the sorrow and pain. He could hear the two elf maidens across the courtyard as they came back towards the ruckus, and he knew that they shouldn't be there. Before he could call to the ellith to warn them away, Elladan struck.

After the first moment of hesitation, Glorfindel caught the flashing fist the twin threw at him and spun him, twisting the arm up violently behind his back. He stopped just before Elladan's shoulder would have popped out of joint, slipping his other arm around the twin's neck. Glorfindel had spent centuries training with every warrior in Imladris. He knew every move, every trick, that anyone here had. Especially the twins; he sparred with them often, with and without weapons. He had trained the twins, of course he knew their method of fighting!

Glorfindel waited for any sound at all to pass Elladan's lips as he held his arm in a lock behind his back, but none came. Instead he seemed to relax, his dark hair in disarray and blocking Glorfindel's view of the rest of the courtyard. Then Elladan shifted, and Glorfindel immediately tightened his grip, thinking that he was trying to escape. He wasn't though - a gasping noise came from the ground and Glorfindel suddenly remember Lindir. He was still on the hard courtyard!

With a sinking realization, Glorfindel knew that Elladan had stepped on the minstrel's throat, effectively choking him. There was only one way to get the twin to stop - a pang went through Glorfindel as he made up his mind. He never liked hurting any being, and one of the sons of Elrond would be even worse. He knew what he had to do though. Hoping Elladan could hear him, Glorfindel whispered an apology to him, then loosened his grip around the twin's neck and jabbed for a pressure point.

A taut second later, Elladan's legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed in Glorfindel's arms.

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Erestor almost had a heart attack when he couldn't get into Elladan's room. It was locked from the inside, the thick oak door preventing any from entering. Flustered, Elrond's Chief Counsellor and adviser pressed his ear up against the door to see if he could hear anything. No sound came from inside.

Had something bad actually happened to Elladan? Erestor knew well of the tight connection between the twin brothers, and that either of them could sense any pain from the other; it had happened many times past when they returned from hunting orcs. The adviser would never admit it to anyone else, but he was scared for the twins whenever they returned, wounded or near dead. They were like surrogate sons to him - annoying, prankster sons, anyway. But when Elrohir had just . . . collapsed in Lord Elrond's study a minute ago, he had been struck with a wave of terror. What could have happened to his brother to make the twin break like that?

Banging on the door once more, Erestor gave up. Elladan probably wasn't in there, he would go look for him elsewhere. A route to check everywhere nearby immediately arranged itself in his mind, the path he would walk clicking into place. Starting down the hallway, Erestor began the course he had organized.

He was on one of the bridges when he caught sight of something that would be in his mind forever. A glimpse into the courtyard made him freeze in his tracks - and horror, as he realized that Elrohir had been right.

A tall golden-haired warrior held Elladan, the twin's head tilted back and his dark hair fluttering in the slight breeze. A minstrel - Lindir - was struggling to his feet, grasping his neck and coughing. Water from the fountain behind them cast a light mist over their heads. As the one holding Elladan looked up, Erestor realized it was Glorfindel, his fair face a mask. The sun shining through the mist cast a delicate halo around his golden hair, but sent Elladan into a dour shadow. The son of Elrond's eyes were closed, Erestor realized with horror, his long eyelashes brushing his cheekbones. His right arm trailed toward the ground, while his left arm was draped over his own chest.

Erestor ran toward them, panic dancing through his veins.

Anyone want to join me for rabbit stew? I'm sorry, I just keep dragging it out! It's just so fun to write everyone's different reactions to what's happening. They're all so awesome! To Lindir: my apologies. I will pop you in there so you don't feel left out.

I'm thinking I'll do Elrohir next, then Ioreth...also, this chapter was short! My shortest yet, I think. The next one will be longer, I promise! I couldn't keep this one going without leaving it in a suitable cliffie.