Ever felt away without me,
Just once is all I need,
Entwined in finding you one day.

Ever Dream - Nightwish

Elrohir sat on the floor of his brother’s room, surrounded by books and scrolls. He had long since exhausted the extensive healing section of the library and was now working his way systematically though the other books in the massive library, in the vain hopes of finding something that even hinted at a way of helping his brother.

He yawned, for he had been working since early that morning and it was now late into the evening. Sighing, he pushed aside the book he was reading, a mythology tome of great volume and stood up. Moving to the bed he sat down on the edge and took his brother’s hand in his. He sat in silence for a few minutes, before rising and going to the window and letting the cool air refresh him.

“Elladan…” Had it really been two centuries? He could still hear his brother’s voice in his mind; see his eyes sparkling with mirth after playing a practical joke. The memories caused a dull ache in his heart, how he longed to see his brother like that again!

He growled as he heard a knock on the door, instinctively knowing it was his father. “Enter.” He sighed and turned to face the door as Elrond entered.

One look at Elrohir’s face and Elrond’s heart almost broke. He expected a confrontation - it was obvious. He hated what they’d become, strangers in the same house. He vowed to do his best to not turn this conversation into another argument.

“There is a delegation from Lorien arriving tomorrow morning.” He said carefully.

“I know,” replied Elrohir. “I have heard that they are bringing a healer. I wish to speak with her.”

Elrond sighed.

“Surely you know she will have nothing to offer.” It was the wrong thing to say, Elrond realised as soon as it was out of his mouth. Elrohir tensed and glared at his father.

“It has been seventy three years since I last spoke to a Lorien healer. Perhaps they have learned something new.” Elrond could see the tension in his son’s jaw as he fought to remain calm.

“I would have heard.” Elrond said gently. “I make sure I receive word of all new medicines and treatments.”

“Perhaps you have not heard of this one,” said Elrohir with grim determination. “Perhaps it is very recent.”

Elrond frowned. “Elrohir please, be realistic.” He replied. The younger twin glared at him.

“Like you?” He spat. “Would you have me give up, accept that my brother is never coming back? I shall not!”

“That is not what I meant and you know it!” Elrond replied his own voice raised in anger. “I only wish for you to stop wasting your life!”

“Wasting my life!” Elrohir shot back in disbelief. “He is my brother! The only way in which I could waste my life would be to give up on him!” His eyes narrowed into slits, “I am not you.” He said darkly. I will not sit back and let my brother die.”

Elrond sucked in a sharp breath as his youngest son uttered the cruel words. He knew deep down, that Elrohir was only speaking from his own pain; that he did in fact understand Elros’ choice, but it still hurt. His own brother had been so dear to him Elrohir’s words were like a physical blow.

“Do as you will.” He snapped, storming out of the room before he did the unthinkable and struck his son.

When his father had left, Elrohir sunk to the floor, shaking. His delicate emotional state had been badly disrupted by this latest confrontation. He buried his head in his hands and let the sobs consume him. He so desperately wanted to go back to the way things were before the accident. However, with each day that passed the chances of that happening seemed less and less likely. Still, he clung to the ever-fading hope that he’d find something. He still believed Elladan would come back. He had to believe it.

He sat there on the floor unmoving, frozen in deep despair. Not even when the door opened again did he move. He knew this quiet presence wasn’t his father.

Erestor didn’t speak. He was never a great one for words. He simply knelt down next to the distraught elf and wrapped his arm around the trembling shoulders.

Elrohir turned suddenly and threw his arms around Erestor’s neck, clinging to the older elf as if he were a lifeline. He buried his face in the councillor’s robes and cried his heart out.

The councillor held him in a gentle embrace, his right hand soothingly rubbing Elrohir’s back. He didn’t waste words on pointless platitudes, wouldn’t insult Elrohir by telling him that it was all right when it most obviously wasn’t and might never be again. No, Erestor knew that simply being there was by far the best thing he could do for the young twin.

After a time, Elrohir pulled away and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Do not be.” Erestor replied. “You have a right to cry, young one.” Elrohir nodded and turned his despairing gaze to the councillor.

“What am I going to do Erestor?” He asked. “I am so lost. My hope for Elladan fades with each passing day, I cannot speak to my father without one of us starting a fight and I no longer care for the world outside this room.” He fell silent and Erestor regarded the dejected elf with no small amount of concern.

“Elrohir,” He said slowly, “I truly wish I had answers for you. But I do not. I only know what is in my own heart. My heart tells me that Elladan’s fate remains where it has always been – with you. Though I admit I do not know to what end. However, I pray that the Valar will be kind.

“Thank you Erestor.” Elrohir mumbled. He could always be counted on to tell you the truth in the nicest possible way.

“You are welcome.” The councillor replied as he stood, gently pulling Elrohir with him. I am always here for you do not forget it. Now please, get some rest. Elf you may be, but allowing yourself to become rundown will help neither you nor Elladan.

Elrohir picked up the book he was reading.

“I just wish to finish this first.” He said. The councillor glared at him disapprovingly. “I will read it in bed if it makes you feel better.” Elrohir offered quickly.

Erestor did not look happy, but nodded his approval nonetheless.

“Very well, Elrohir. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Erestor.” The councillor left the room, black robes swirling around his feet.

Elrohir sat on the edge of Elladan’s bed and leaned over, kissing his twin gently on the forehead. “Good night, Elladan. I will see you in the morning.” Then he rose and went through the inner door that joined his room to his brother’s.

He quickly undressed and got under the covers, extinguishing all the candles except for the one on the bedside table. Opening the book where he had left off, he began to read.

For hours he read, until the candle was almost burnt out and he knew he would soon have to take his rest. Yet as the candle began to fail, a paragraph of text caught his eye.

The Hidden

It is said that they came unto the world when the Quendi were yet young. Few in number but long in life; they dwelled at the edges of Arda’s mountains. Great were they, gifted with powers that could grant another their greatest desire.

Then the men came and brought with them greed and pain and they enslaved and murdered their gentle souls when they would not grant their wicked wishes. In fear they fled into the deepest recesses of the mountains where they may yet dwell.

Some have said that they will still grant desire to those who seek them, should their wish come from the heart, though a test must be taken to prove the strength of the wisher’s yearning.

Elrohir’s heart was pounding in his chest. This was it. This was what he had been looking for. He knew many myths were based on real events, he was sure in that moment these mysterious beings existed. Perhaps he would once have dismissed such tales as fabrication or entertainment, but now he clung to the slight hope the passage provided. All he had tried thus far were potions and spells, seeking to cure his brother by his own hand. This was different. This held promise and hope that he could not explain. He knew he had to find these beings and implore them to help his twin.

He knew his father would not allow anyone to go and seek these creatures. Elrond had long since given up on any help for Elladan and Elrohir wasn’t sure if anyone desired Elladan’s recovery as much as he did.

Getting up, he walked back thorough the adjoining room to Elladan’s side. He silently observed the still form for a long time as he wrestled with a decision. He was loath to leave his brother’s side, but there was no one else who could do this. If by leaving he could save him, it would be worth it. It was that which eventually won out, his desire to bring Elladan back stronger than all else.

He returned to his room and pulled a pack from a cupboard. He swiftly gathered the things he would need, taking care not to be noticed as he grabbed supplies from the kitchens and armoury.

Soon he was ready and he went once more to where Elladan lay. He sat down and clasped a pale hand in his.

“Forgive me brother.” He whispered. “I do not wish to leave you but I must. I have lost my faith in Ada and nothing I try has helped. I must leave and seek out others who may be able to bring you back to me. Ada will care for you, he may have given up but he loves you still. You – you will be fine. Farewell, Elladan, I will not fail you.” He placed a last kiss to his brother’s brow before slipping out the window and creeping stealthily towards the stables.

Once there he led his mount out into the yard and sprang up onto the stallion’s back. One whispered command later and he was galloping away from Imladris on the start of a desperate quest to save his brother – and himself.