//Would
you do it for me,
Heal the scars and change the stars?//
Ever
Dream – Nightwish
“No.”
Elrond’s voice was firm. “I will not allow it.
It is folly.” Elrohir shook his head, desperate to convince
his father.
“But Ada, it could work! We will not know unless we
try! Please!” He begged and fixed Elrond with his most
pleading gaze, but the Elven-Lord held firm.
“I have said no. My decision is final. Do not continue
to push me Elrohir.” Elrohir’s eyes filled with
tears as he turned and fled from his father’s presence.
It just wasn’t fair.
He
ran along the corridors until he came to his brother’s
room. Stepping inside, he went and sat beside Elladan. “I
don’t know what’s wrong with father these days.”
He said quietly. “Nothing I do pleases him and we only
ever seem to fight.” He put his head in his hands in
despair. “Oh Elladan, what am I to do?” His brother
didn’t answer, but Elrohir hadn’t really expected
him too. After all, Elladan had been in a coma ever since
that fateful storm 200 years ago.
*****************
When
Elrohir had finally brought his brother back to Imladris,
after struggling for hours to free him from beneath the branch,
he had been dangerously close to death. Elrond had battled
for hours to save his oldest son, knowing that to lose Elladan
would be to lose Elrohir also. The twins were too close; one
would never survive without the other. He had eventually stabilised
the older twin, but the head injuries had proven too much
even for his extensive skill. Despite his best efforts, his
son had slipped into a coma that same evening.
During
those first few weeks, he had maintained hope that Elladan
would heal and awaken on his own. But as weeks turned to months
and months became years, hope gradually faded. After five
decades of almost unending research and uncounted attempts
to heal his eldest, Elrond had been forced to give up, knowing
that time was the only cure left. Reluctantly, he’d
stopped seeking answers and tried to move on with his life.
Those around him sadly did the same, knowing that there was
nothing more to be done for the young Lord.
Only
Elrohir had refused to stop trying. He continued to seek for
any way to bring his brother back to him. Elrond let him,
knowing he could never tear the younger twin from his brother’s
side. For the past 200 years Elrohir had cared unwaveringly
for his brother, accepting help only when absolutely necessary.
For a time, life in Imladaris had settled into an almost comfortable
routine, until the strain of not knowing whether Elladan would
live or die finally began to take its toll on his family.
As
the years passed, Elrohir withdrew more and more from the
outside world, hardly leaving the adjacent rooms that the
twins shared. Occasionally, Glorfindel or Erestor would drag
him out for a short walk, but such excursions were rare and
never lasted very long. He had left Rivendell only six times
in the past 200 years, when some evil had threatened the borders
of the Elven-sanctuary and all hands were needed to fight
it off. Even then, his actions had been for his brother, for
if Imladeris were to fall, Elladan would lose whatever chance
he had left.
Elrond,
on the other hand, had showed an almost palpable desperation
for the first 5 decades, a desperation which had seemingly
changed overnight into sad acceptance. When he had told Elrohir
that he would continue looking for a cure, but that he could
ignore his responsibilities to his people no longer, the younger
twin had been infuriated, though he had said nothing and continued
to search for a cure on his own. Unbeknownst to them at the
time, it had been the beginning of a downward spiral in their
formerly close and loving relationship.
It
hadn’t been noticeable at first, the odd sharp word
and small misunderstandings. But soon that escalated into
rows that left both father and son feeling bitter for days.
By the time several decades had passed, Elrohir had simply
stopped speaking to his father unless he absolutely had to.
He found silence easier than the constant fighting.
Elrond tried to prevent their relationship from completely
disintegrating, but eventually he too grew weary of all the
fighting and left Elrohir to continue his lonely vigil.
The
conversation that had led to the most recent argument had
been over the most frequently raised topic – a potential
cure for Elladan. Elrond had dismissed the obscure potion
as pointless and a waste of time. Deep down, Elrohir knew
his father was right, but Elrond’s casual dismissal
of the idea had angered and hurt Elrohir deeply. More and
more he felt that his father had given up on Elladan, had
accepted that he was as good as dead. That very thought made
Elrohir want to break down and scream his pain to the heavens.
But
instead he went to his brother’s room. Now he sat in
the soft chair that was perpetually next to the bed, staring
at the still, pale form lying there. Elladan’s eyes
were closed unnaturally as he remained trapped in his coma,
had Elrohir not still felt their faint bond in his heart,
he would have been sure that his twin was dead. With a heavy
sigh, he crossed his arms on the bed and rested his head upon
them, mere inches from his twin. His eyes slowly glazed over
as emotional exhaustion took hold and he drifted into elven
dreams where he was temporarily free of the ever-worsening
pain in his soul.
Elrond
looked out of his bedroom window. From where he was he could
see Erendil shining brightly in the night sky. It seemed to
be his only light these days.
A hand on his shoulder made him turn around. Glorfindel stood
behind him, eyes full of concern. “Please, don’t,”
said Elrond softly. Glorfindel shot his old friend a quizzical
look.
“I
said nothing.” He replied.
Elrond
sighed and shook his head.
“You didn’t have to. I know what you’re
going to say. That I shouldn’t have angered Elrohir,
that I should have been more supportive of that foolish remedy.
But it would not have worked Glorfindel, surely you know that!”
He looked desperately at his friend.
“Ai,
it would not.” He agreed. “I know that and so
does Elrohir. But he’s desperate. He knows how slim
Elladan’s chances are and he’s willing to try
anything, no matter how unlikely.”
Elrond
nodded.
“I understand his desire to help Elladan, I have never
forgotten what it is to lose a brother, not to mention how
much it hurts seeing my son like that. But had I let him try,
he would have found some hope, only to lose it again and sink
even deeper into his despair. I could not bear to see him
in any more pain. He has suffered so much already.”
He turned away from Glorfindel, trying to hide the tears that
threatened to fall. Glorfindel looked sadly at his oldest
and dearest friend.
“I
know you wish only to spare him more pain, but his continuing
search for a cure is all that keeps Elrohir tethered to this
world. The moment he gives up, he will start to fade and then
you will lose them both to Mandos halls.”
Elrond’s
tears were falling freely now and unable to do anything else,
Glorfindel pulled his Lord into a comforting embrace. “Peace
mellon nin.” He whispered soothingly. “Do not
give up. The bond the twins share is powerful – trust
in it. All will come right in the end.”
“But
when will that end be?” Elrond asked brokenly. “Two
hundred years have passed already, long years in which my
eldest has shown no sign of waking. How many more years must
we endure without knowing his fate?” He pulled away
from his friend.
“I
do not know.” Glorfindel admitted. “But somehow,
I feel that the answer lies with Elrohir.
Elrond
did not reply to that, his eyes once more fixed on Eärendil’s
glowing light.
END
CHAPTER 1
Note:
OK, some of you may think 200 years is too long. But personally,
I think that for an elf, it’s a reasonable amount of time.
But if that doesn’t work for you, just think of the angst
factor!
