Finding a Home in Mithlond - Oleanne568 - The Lord of the Rings (2024)

Chapter 1: A Dwarven Party

Chapter Text

"Another song!" Cried Thainren as he cheerfully raised his mug of ale. They had just finished the rousing Dwarven Drinking Song. The elf-boy's face had flushed pink in embarrassment during the song, causing much laughter among the dwarves.

"How about you, boy." One of the dwarves slurred cheekily. "You carry that harp. Surely, you must know a tune."

The young one's eyes fell. He truly looked more like a man than an elf, especially since he and his brother had their hair cut in the Edain village. That was almost two years ago and his hair was only now falling below his shoulders. It was much too short for an elf of his age but too long for a man.

"I know none such entertaining songs." The elf admitted, his Khuzdul (dwarven language) slightly awkward but quite understandable.

"Sing the Lay of Lúthien, your ancestress!" Another suggested. The rest of the group chimed in agreement. They had been drinking for far too long. The boy finally acquiesced and took a gulp of his watered down ale. He had acclimated somewhat to its bitter taste. Two months traveling with the dwarven party had been very enlightening. He had vastly improved his command of their language and was finally able to hold steady conversations.

The boy picked up his harp and began to play. His young voice weaving haunting images of the human Beren and the half Maia, half elf beauty Lúthien as they fell deeply in love. The unusual couple thwarted convention and defied family for all they held dear. The dwarves listened spellbound to the tale. After it was finished the boy, drained from the experience, received abundant praise. Exhausted and slightly tipsy, the party fell into a restful sleep.

"Wake up little one." Thainren shook the boy gently. Groggily, Elrond opened his eyes. His head ached slightly from the ale that he had consumed the previous night even though the amount he had consumed was small. Thainren thrust a glass of water into his hand as well as a strange bark-like solid. "I see your tolerance for our ale is low." He smiled kindly. "Chew on this resin, it will help with the headache."

"Why must you call me little one?" The elf complained. "I'm quite a bit taller than you." The dwarf chuckled under his snowy beard.

"You are what – barely twenty? I am fifty-six, past my majority."

"I've seen twenty two years." Elrond protested.

"Aye, were you a man, you would be barely into your majority and by elven reckoning you are yet a young child." Thainren laughed. In truth the boy, who had been subjected to ten years of captivity among a people who denigrated his mixed blood, was far older in his years than some. But in other ways the young one was naïve and innocent. He was moved by even the slightest kindness that was shown him. "Though truly, in two months, I have grown very fond of you, young one. I like to think of you as my little brother." He punched him playfully on the arm. "What did you like best about my father's home, about the dwarven caves?" The boy looked up with sparkling eyes.

"I have never seen such magnificence." His awe rang clearly in his voice. "And to watch you carve stone into works of art or see your people at the forge, these were most impressive."

"I will teach you more of carving when we arrive in Mithlond." Thainren promised. He saw a frown pass over the boy's face. "You do still want to go to Mithlond? Or have you changed your mind?"

Elrond had joined the dwarven travelers as their party passed through the Edain village that he and his brother were staying in. He was much too young to travel alone especially in these dangerous times. The dwarven party was headed to Mithlond, exactly where he had wished to go. As a bonus, he had even gotten to visit their home in the mountains. It was an opportunity that was too good to pass up even though he had to be parted from his brother for a while. Elros was not ready to leave the Edain village.

"I do want to see Mithlond!" The boy said in a shaky voice. "I …. I just am not sure if I will be welcome there." He thought back on the prejudice and hatred he had experienced in Amon Ereb. He could not fault his twin for choosing to remain with the Edain. They had been welcomed among them as kin. It had been such an unaccustomed and wonderful feeling to be accepted. Elrond lived there quite happily for over a year, learning about their culture and shadowing their healer. But his heart told him that he needed to seek out other elves to see if they also held the views of the Feanorians about his mixed heritage. He also hoped that some of their friends had miraculously survived the attack at Sirion.

"Child!" Thainren smiled when Elrond automatically bristled at the term. "How could you not be welcome there? I have met King Gil-Galad, and he is fair and wise. One with a heart such as yours will be most welcome. Fear not! As my father pledged, you will always be known as a dwarf friend, no matter how long a life you live." The dwarf smiled upon seeing the boy relax. "Come eat some breakfast, then we must continue our journey. We will pass into the boundary of Mithlond in a few days and we will enter the city in another week."

Elrond fought to keep the excitement at that news off his face. "Alright, my friend. I could use some breakfast."

Xxxxxxx

"Thainren, tell me more about how you make the carving tools. How are they strong enough to cut through such hard stone?" The boy begged. He wanted to learn more of metallurgy. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable.

"Elrond, I have been teaching you non-stop all morning. Please, little one, my throat is quite parched." The boy sighed and walked away returning with a mug full of ale and a plate of lunch.

"I am sorry Thainren. I didn't mean to anger you." The boy said sheepily and handed the dwarf the food and drink. Thainren smiled. He had never met a young one so bright and inquisitive yet touched by such sorrow.

"It is alright, little one. Go get yourself some lunch. We should be meeting up with elves soon." The boy's eyes sparkled in anticipation. But as he walked past the tree, a tall being pulled him backwards, setting a sharp sword at his neck and twisting his hands behind his back.

"Be still Edain." The voice ordered in heavily accented common Tongue. "And I won't hurt you." The boy stood speechless, while dwarves bounded to their feet, realizing that elven warriors now surrounded them.

"Is that how you greet friends and artisans!" Thainren bellowed in Sindarin as he advanced on them. "Do not scare the elfling, he is dear to me!" The elf holding Elrond quickly lowered his sword but kept his grip on the trembling boy, who spoke not a word and looked down at the ground.

"Elfling? Surely this is a man!" He drew back Elrond's dark hair and traced the pointed ear. It was slightly more curved than most elves but definitely of the firstborn. "Forgive me, I did not realize." Thainren quickly drew Elrond behind him, shielding him from the elf. The boy huddled behind the dwarf too numb to look up. Several of Thrainren's companions drew near the shocked youth as if to protect him.

"He is a peredhel. Surely, you should respect the son of Eärendil! I am going to introduce him to the High King. He will be greatly displeased when he hears how you welcomed his kin." The soldier swiftly bowed before Elrond formally apologizing. The boy did not look up nor speak a word.

"We have just stopped for lunch. Will you join us?" Thainren asked as he pulled Elrond down to sit beside him. That a descendent of Elu Thingol needed to be succored among dwarves was to Thainren the ultimate irony. He handed the elfling a plate of food and tossled his hair affectionately. He motioned to several of his trusted companions, who sat down close to the stunned elfling, while he and the leader of the elves' patrol spoke of the situation in Mithlond and the safety of the road they yet needed to traverse. The boy ate slowly in silence, only just finding the courage to steal shy glances at the warriors, who had joined them. Some of the elves had dark hair and light complexions, much like his own. Some had light hair in shades of silver, gold or brown. Thankfully, there were no redheaded elves. None reminded him of Maedhros. The elves were all dressed in lavish green cloaks subtly embroidered with the seal of Mithlond on the shoulder. Elrond felt suddenly self-conscious of his worn cloak and bright Edain tunic.

"Elrond is very excited to visit Mithlond and meet other elves." Thainren answered for the distracted boy sitting beside him.

"The High King sent us to escort you." The warrior was saying. "I had wondered why, but now I know. Where is his brother?"

"Are you from Sirion?" The soft tenor was barely audible, but the warrior was heartened by the shy inquiry and immediately responded.

"I am Cirulian of the Teleri." The warrior adopted a tone equally soft and smiled reassuringly. Silver eyes met his fleetingly. They were full of emotions, which in itself signaled that this was yet a young child. The warrior regretted his earlier blunder and sought to make amends. "I never had the pleasure of visiting Sirion. How old are you elfling?"

"I am twenty two." Elrond replied as he drew himself up from his slouched position. He gathered his courage and looked the warrior in the eye.

"Twenty-two! That is indeed young. Yet you are almost as tall as most nearing their majority." He praised gently and was rewarded by Elrond's soft response.

"My brother is taller and broader." Elrond divulged but felt suddenly shy again at the implication that he was different from a 'real' elf. "Did any of our kin escape Sirion? The brother's Feanor refused to tell us."

"There are some refuges from Sirion in Mithlond, though many settle on Balar." The elfling's eyes lit with hope, making the elf captain smile. He offered his hand in friendship to the youth. "Come, if we hurry we can make it back to the city gates by nightfall." The warrior laughed at the elfling, deciding that he did indeed like this peredhel prince.

If they had any conversation on the way to the gates, Elrond could not recall. He was too busy taking in the sights. Exquisite buildings of stone rose out behind the thick, fortified wall. His heart raced with excitement. He could smell the sea! It was a smell that he hadn't experienced in years and it brought happy memories of Sirion to the surface. In his mind, he and Elros raced along the beach and laughed while they jumped in the surf. Their mother sat near watching them with loving eyes. They had only been ten when Maedhros lead his forces in an attack on Sirion. They were too young to hold a sword, too young to defend their Mother. The guards watched the elfling with curiosity. The boy was nearly full-grown in stature, but very thin. His bright eyes coupled with his inability to shield his emotions clearly marked him as young indeed. Word of their arrival had been sent to the palace and the guards escorted Thainren and a few of the more prominent dwarven representatives to the King, while the remainder of the artisans and craftsmen were shown to their quarters. Thainren smiled at the young one, so clearly lost in his thoughts and overwhelmed by the beauty and vastness of the city. He grasped the slim elfling's hand.

"Come little one. I wanted to introduce you to the King." The escort smiled at the dwarf's terms of endearment for the elfling. They lead them through several security checks and finally emerged into a long hallway. Approximately halfway down the hall they were ushered into an elegant reception room with a large conference table. A silver haired elf sporting a long white beard sat patiently at the table and a dark haired elf with a sparkling mithril crown set with rubies walked over to greet them.

"Presenting Elrond Eärendilion." One of the escorts announced. The king smiled at the elfling and the young one bowed deeply.

"My Lord." Elrond stammered. To his shock the King came over and embraced him.

"Elrond! Welcome to Mithlond! I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to see you alive and well. We are kin from afar and your mother Elwing and I were cousins and the friends in her childhood." Gil-Galad turned to the seated elf. "May I introduce you to"

"Cirdan the Shipwright." Stammered the boy in awe. The bearded elf smiled and rose to embrace him. "Welcome home elfling. I see you have studied some history." The dwarf behind them laughed deeply.

"Your majesty, I'm afraid this elfling's thirst for knowledge knows no bounds. He has nearly mastered both Khuzdul as well as Edain dialects and he will forever be known as a friend of the Dwarven kind. I pity whoever you appoint as his tutors as his questions are endless." The dwarf laughed again. "I have promised to teach him more about our stone working."

The King joined in the laughter and ruffled the elfling's hair. "We will keep this elfling busy, I promise you Master Thainren. Come, Elrond, let us show you to your room and Laeste will join you soon to measure you for clothing more appropriate to your station."

Chapter 2: The Palace

Chapter Text

Elrond stood, suddenly nervous at the thought of leaving Thainren. He had felt safe and protected in the presence of the dwarf. The King and Cirdan seemed open and accepting, but Maglor had been nice to them too at times, teaching Elrond and his brother many things and instructing Elrond on the Harp. Yet, Maglor did not stop his brother Maehdros from being cruel to the half-elves. Many of the Feanorian house also took pleasure in ridiculing their half-elven prisoners. Unconsciously, the boy took a step back towards Thainren, fear passing briefly through him. Thainren walked up beside him and clasped his hand.

"Elrond, I'm staying close by. I will see you at dinner." Thainren said soothingly. Gil-Galad and Cirdan easily read the fear that passed over the boys' features and in a glance exchanged a promise to watch over the boy.

"Elrond, you are safe here. No one will harm you here in the palace." Gil-Galad said. "I give you my word that you are safe."

Elrond looked up at the King, slightly embarrassed by his fear. But both the noble elves smiled kindly. "Come, elfling. Let's get you settled and you can take a bath and change before dinner." Gil-Galad took the boy by the hand and led him out into the hall. Thainren gave Cirdan a knowing look and stayed to update him on the elfling's journey.

"You speak with great love for Eärendil's son." Cirdan addressed Thainren.

"It will not take you long to see how special he is. He is a bright, intelligent, and compassionate boy. He has suffered much hatred and prejudice in captivity. I have witnessed it disturbing his dreams. I have woken him from his night terrors and comforted him. Someone should be near should he suffer such terrors tonight. Yet his courage at leaving his brother and coming to explore a new place is admirable. He needs a safe and secure place to grow. I have watched over him on our journey from the Edain village. He will be a great ambassador, a voice for tolerance and understanding. His curiosity and appreciation for our culture touched many. He made many friends in our city and even helped heal one of our children. Iluvator has blessed him with unusual healing powers. My family would adopt the boy in a heartbeat and keep him safe. But perhaps, he should be with his own kind, if you can truly protect him. I take it that my father alerted you of our plans?"

"Yes, we received his message a week ago and sent out an escort to look for you."

"Your escort mistook him for an Edain and proceeded to threaten him with a sword."

"That was unfortunate, though I did not want to divulge the boy's identity until we had him safely in the palace. Did you meet his brother Elros?"

"Yes, I met him briefly among the Edain."

"What is he like?"

"He and Elrond are supposedly twins. But you can easily tell them apart. His brother keeps his hair shorter in the style of Men. He is taller and more muscular than Elrond and looks to be a few years older. Elros has formed close ties to their edain kin. Do not hold it against him. He is responding to the love and care he was given. It is not surprising given that the boys were orphaned." Cirdan nodded taking in the information provided.

"We are very grateful that you escorted Elrond safely to us. Come let me show you to a room near the elfling."

Xxxxxxx

Elrond was shocked when the High King himself led him to his room. He looked around nervously at first, but the grandeur of the palace was so impressive that he found he could not stop himself from staring in wonder. Gil-Galad suppressed the urge to chuckle. The elfling was a little over a head shorter than him yet seemed very young.

"I hope you will enjoy living in the palace. It is my wish that you stay as long as you desire. I have nearly no kin left here. Some of my kin reside in the west and many have died. The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn are some of my other close kin. Both are distantly related to you as well." The elfling stole shy looks at the King.

"Elrond," The King addressed the elfling and led him into a magnificent bedroom with elaborate blue drapes hanging on both sides of floor to ceiling windows. "I am truly sorry that we could not free you and your brother from Amon Ereb. Their defenses were too great to risk a battle. We did have a spy inside their house who kept us informed of your treatment there, if you had been at great risk we would have attempted a rescue." The King paused, considering the elfling before him, whose eyes were dark as if he was experiencing some terror from memory. "How did you and your brother manage to escape?" He looked expectantly at the boy.

Maedhros enraged face and fiery red hair swam into view. "Peredhil!" The word slid like a curse off his tongue as he closed his grip around the small neck. "Even your mother despised you abandoning you for a stone." Elrond shook his head trying to clear away the memory.

"Elrond" Gil-Galad called soothingly. "You must talk with me and others about your experiences in Amon Ereb. Only then can you overcome them." Elrond took a deep breath as he tried to banish the dreadful memories of the Feanorians.

"We were almost twenty when Maglor and Maedhros said that they would allow us to leave. They believe war is coming. They foresee a great war against Morgoth. Maedhros said that we should find out where …" Elrond paused trying to think of better words to substitute for Maedhros' slurs. Gil-Galad noticed the tremors that shook the slight frame. "Find out where ones such as us belonged. He thought that we deserved the right to choose what house we would die for. They arranged for us to meet some Edain travelers and we left shortly afterwards." Elrond paused as the feelings of elation at finally gaining freedom swept through him. "Elros remains with the Edain. He said that he would be proud to fight beside them."

Gil-Galad observed the strong emotions run through the elfling. This one was so young and already touched by such loss and such torment. He felt an overwhelming urge to protect the boy. "I promise that here in Lindon you be loved and cared for. There is no longer a reason to fear." He pulled the astonished young one into his arms. They were interrupted by a knock and a tall Elleth with light brown hair walked in.

"Excuse me, my Lord." Laeste interrupted, smiling as she looked at the thin, reedy elfling. "You must be one of the sons of Elwing and Eärendil! You have your mother's hair and stature and yet your facial features resemble Eärendil." Laeste eyes sparkled kindly. "I am Laeste, I will be happy to care for you and guide you in the ways of our people."

"Laeste, this is Elrond Eärendilion. Elrond, Laeste took care of me when I was young." Gil-Galad explained. "The war had separated my family, and my parents sent me here to Mithlond to stay with Cirdan for safety." He led the youth over to the elleth. Elrond bowed in greeting. "I will see you soon Elrond." The King embraced the young elf, who stammered his thanks.

"It is nice to meet you." Elrond turned and shyly addressed Laeste. The elleth held back her urge to likewise embrace the youth, for his eyes were wide as if he might bolt from fright. Instead, she sought to put him at ease.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, young Elrond. I watched over Ereinion and Elwing for a time, long ago. Your Mother was very dear to us. We were all grieved when we heard about Sirion." She saw tears threaten the boy's eyes and decided to change the subject. "Now, we must get you cleaned up and dressed properly so you can appear at dinner. Let me show you where you can bathe." She smiled and walked past him into the bathroom. Elrond heard the sound of running water.

"Come Elrond, give me those filthy clothes and wash up." She prompted gently. When the boy made no move to undress, she crossed over to him and began to unbutton his tunic. His face turned bright red as he pulled away, but Laeste was not to be dissuaded.

"Child, was there no nursemaid at Amon Ereb to care for you?"

"Only Uncle Maglor cared for us there." Elrond mumbled in a wavering voice.

"Surely, you remember some of the ladies at Sirion who cared for you?" Laeste kept her gaze steady as she helped the boy out of his clothing and led him to the bath, which was sunken cleverly into the stone floor. He would need time to grow accustomed to this new environment. "This is sandalwood soap to wash your body with. There is shampoo for your hair in the white bottle." She handed him a washcloth and towels. I will go see if I can round up some clothing in your size. I'll be back to fix your hair." Without further ado, Laeste left.

Elrond sank into the soothing warm water momentarily overcome by the comforts of his surrounding. Some of the carvings were obviously of dwarven origins but the design of the room, which seemed to flow seamlessly into the outdoors, was unmistakably elven. Elrond washed slowly and was just rinsing his hair when he heard Laeste's cheerful voice.

"It is time to get out, child." Elrond stepped out of the bath and dried himself with the most luxurious towel he had ever felt, finally wrapping the towel around his waist before stepping out into the bedroom. Laeste greeted him and then set about taking his measurements. She handed him some dark leggings, which he pulled on quickly and tied about his waist. The she gave him a simple white silken shirt before handing him a beautiful blue tunic embroidered with a delicate leaf pattern.

"This will be a little big but it will serve for tonight." She smiled at the youth's astonished expression.

"You wear a golden flower pendant?" She asked studying the simple yellow pendant that hung from a ragged dark string around his neck.

"My father gave it to me to remind me of brave and loyal friends." The boy told her softly.

"I will get you a chain for it tomorrow." She said kindly. "It is too precious to trust to a worn string." Her heart went out to the elfling. He had nearly nothing in his bag, just a few worn tunics, several pair of leggings, two small books and a harp. She was sure that these were the sum of all his possessions. From his emaciated frame, it looked as if he was on the edge of starvation. "Could the dwarves not provide proper food for him or was he ill?" She wondered to herself.

"Why did you cut your hair, young one?" She asked curiously.

"Elros and I got our haircut the first week that we arrived at the Edain village. We were so happy to be free from those elves." His voice wavered, and he was suddenly fearful that he might have offended Laeste. The thrill of finally having his freedom rushed through him again. "The Edain welcomed us and treated us as Kin as equals." He tried to explain. "Elros was overjoyed at looking like the others at the idea of belonging. So we cut our hair to match the Edain our age." But Elrond felt wistful as if he had somehow betrayed his true nature. Laeste massaged the youth's head and slowly brushed his silken locks. The silver eyes were closed to avoid looking at her directly.

"Do not worry, your hair will grow quickly once you are taking in the proper nourishment. You are very thin. Tomorrow I will make you a special elixir with herbs and vitamins to help you regain your strength." A knock on the door was followed by Thainren's cheerful voice.

"Are you well, little one?" Elrond grimaced at the endearment but smiled as the dwarf entered.

"Yes, thank you Thainren." The dwarf had also bathed and changed into a magnificent shirt and embroidered vest, typical of dwarven royalty.

"Tis not often that we dine with an Elven King. I've been assured that he has some fine ales." Thainren paused, taking in the sight of his young charge. "You look almost like a grown Elven Lord." Thainren laughed and squeezed the boy's hand. "We just must put a little meat on those bones of yours." Laeste found herself in the unlikely position of agreeing with a dwarf. She led her unusual guests out of the royal wing and down to the formal dining chambers.

Dinner was an elaborate affair with the King's councilors, several of the Dwarves, Laeste, and Cirdan. Elrond sat on the family side of the table, to the right of Gil-Galad. Laeste and Cirdan were close by and Thainren and the other dwarves were seated across from them. Much to Elrond's shock, the King began the meal by leading them in a prayer to Eru.

"I thank Thainren of the Dwarves and the One for bringing Elrond safely back to us. May Eru watch over and protect Elros and lead him back to us as well." The King then raised his glass and gave a toast. "To the sons of Eärendil!" They all repeated his toast and drank.

"Elrond, you spent a year with the Edain and three months traveling with dwarves," noted Cirdan "tell us about your experiences." Soon Elrond was relaying descriptions of life in the Edain village adding funny stories about his mishaps there. Then he described the dwarven caves and the amazing artistry and metallurgy he had seen. All the descriptions were colored by the excitement and enthusiasm of this unusual youth.

"Are you going to teach me more about carving? Maybe tomorrow!" Elrond begged Thainren. Thainren smiled, obviously enchanted by the boy.

"If your Lord permits." He motioned to the King with a nod of his head. Elrond looked at Gil-Galad. The silver eyes were pleading, but the boy was suddenly too shy to ask directly. Gil-Galad smiled indulgently.

"Of course you may after you join Laeste at the House of Healing. We would like to be sure that you are well before deciding on a schedule for your studies and training." The King said.

"Healers?" Elrond's curiosity overcame his worry. "Can I study with elven healers? I spent some time learning from an Edain healer and even a little with the Dwarven healers."

"Is there anything you are not interested in?" Cirdan teased, happy to see that this elfling, who had experienced such trauma was still filled with such curiosity and wonder at the world around him.

"So Elros preferred to live among the Edain?" Asked one of the councilors incredulously. The Noldo's intense eyes reminded Elrond momentarily of Maedhros making him unconsciously shiver. Elrond paused in thought. In the moment of silence, Gil-Galad could see the youth thinking through possible answers to try to craft a diplomatic response.

"Well," he said simply, "the elves at Amon Ereb, with the exception of Maglor, were not kind."

"We are glad that you are free from the Kinslayers." The councilor said. The honesty in the voice put Elrond more at ease.

The dinner passed most enjoyably and soon Laeste led the very weary elfling back to his room. The boy sank down on the bed. His eyes were already closing. She smiled at the sight, for the boy certainly would have fallen asleep in the dress cloths. Laeste took out some sleepwear and proceeded to coax the youth out of his clothes and into the pajamas of softest fabric Elrond had ever touched.

"What is it?" Elrond asked though a huge yawn.

"I'll tell you tomorrow little one. Now, though, you must rest." She gave the sleepy elfling an affectionate hug and tucked the blankets around his slight figure. Then she wished him pleasant dreams.

Xxxxx

Cries woke Ereinion in the night and he ran to the boy's room. Elrond was thrashing in his sleep, calling out wildly. Laeste appeared behind the King and lit the candles in the room. She opened the glass doors to the balcony to let in the cool night air.

"It is a night terror. You had them as well when you first arrived here, my Lord. Try to wake him. I will go brew a calming tea."

Gil-Galad shook the boy, calling steadily to him. Elrond's bloodless fingers were clasped desperately around the blankets.

"Elrond. Child. Come back to us. You are safe in Mithlond. Elrond!" He called more forcefully, focusing all his energy on reaching the boy. The elfling opened his eyes and stared at the King in shock and confusion.

"It is I, Ereinion Gil-Galad." The King reminded him. "Leave these dreams behind and awake, young one." The light of recognition slowly kindled in Elrond's eyes and he relaxed back against the pillow.

"My Lord?" He said slowly, shame suddenly flooding him. But the High King gently lifted the boy's chin and guided him into a comforting embrace. "There is no shame in this Elrond. Even I suffered such nightmares in my younger days. Tell me what you recall from your dreams. Do not hold it inside else it will eat at your soul." The boy trembled violently and Ereinion rubbed soothing circles on the boy's back. Tears streamed from Elrond's cheeks down onto the King's robe. The boy cried for a while and only regained his composure when Laeste returned with the tea. The King motioned for the elleth to stay, and she sat herself unobtrusively in the chair by the window as Ereinion lead Elrond to the table.

"Drink the tea, little one. It will calm you and send you into a dreamless sleep." The elfling slowly sipped at the steaming cup. "Tell us about your dreams." Elrond looked up with those disarmingly intense silver eyes, obviously startled by the request.

"Have you ever told them to anyone?"

"I told Elros a little." The boy shivered.

"Share them with me. It will help to banish them."

Elrond told him about his nightmares, about reliving the horror at Sirion and how Maedhros filled with battle-fury had come upon them. Maedhros had nearly choked the young boy to death, before Maglor and Elros intervened. Ereinion noted how the boy before him clutched at his neck as he relayed his tale.

"Then I saw a great battle." Elrond's eyes flashed differently. "Thousands of men and elves on an open field stained red with blood were fighting orcs, wolves, dwarves and dragons. You were there. I fought near you. Great winged creatures, dragons flew above us spewing flames that scorched the land. A great ship sailed through the air engaging the dragons. Ada was steering the ship. I saw him. He was bathed in a bright light. He did not see me." The boy trailed off as he finished the tea. His eyes were beginning to glaze over.

"Let these dreams and visions trouble you no more this night." Ereinion said while lifting the boy and carrying him back to the bed. "You are strong and brave, little one. You have survived much hardship already. Rest here, safe among kin and friends." He laid the boy back on the bed while Laeste brought a warmer blanket.

"The weight and warmth is often comforting. I will stay with him tonight, my Lord." Laeste's concern filled her voice as she smoothed down the blankets around the young prince. Ereinion expressed his thanks with a small smile.

Chapter 3: A Visit to the Healers

Chapter Text

Elves require less sleep and typically rise with the sun. So, it was quite early in the morning when Ereinion and Cirdan were having breakfast on the veranda. Cirdan was sipping his tea and enjoying a bowl of fruit with quark, a yogurt like delicacy of Mithlond.

"Thainren cares deeply for Elrond and was quite worried about his health. The elfling is much loved among the dwarves. He appears be a born diplomat and ambassador."

"That he already shows skills in these areas does not surprise me. Though it grieves me to hear that the night terrors haunt him so regularly. I will escort him to the house of healing this morning. I remember Elwing had on a several occasions acquired illnesses normally associated with Edain but she soon recovered. Perhaps it is something straightforward which prevents him from eating."

"Do you think that your presence might make him more self-conscious? Perhaps Laeste should take him."

"She had the feeling that Elrond has not been in the company of Ellith much. She was also quiet worried at how emaciated the elfling was and noted that she could count every rib. He did not eat much at dinner and was at times visibly nervous around other elves. I am his only kin. I would like him to feel comfortable around me." Ereinion himself had never interacted extensively with younger elves. He was unsure how he should treat Elrond and tried to imagine what care was important for him when he had first been sent to foster with Cirdan. He wondered briefly how the elfling would react to meeting Indiriel his betrothed, the light of his life. He was sure she would know how to reassure the young one. "Did Thainren say how early the elfling usually wakes?"

"He said that he needed to wake him."

"That's curious. Perhaps we should send Laeste. How long will you stay at the palace?"

"I don't think I can leave my duties at the port longer than a few days, but I will be back often. I would like to get to know Elrond and I'm sure that he would enjoy a tour of the port."

"I do not doubt that the elfling would enjoy almost anything you choose to show him, it's much like giving water to one who has endured the desert." Cirdan laughed at Ereinion's comparison.

"True, but there is something so refreshing about his unbridled enthusiasm. I already see great promise in him."

Ereinion squirmed uneasily at the comment. "I think you are correct, Cirdan. I think he already has visions. I believe that this one is gifted or cursed with foresight. Last night his dream was of a battle sometime in the future with Morgoth."

Cirdan sat up suddenly intrigued. "What did he see?"

"He described the battle quite realistically with Men and Elves fighting wolves, dwarves and dragons. He said his father battled the dragons from a great ship that sailed through the air. He said that he fought near me. Surely, he is too young to go to war!" Ereinion paused contemplatively.

"Do you think Eärendil has reached Valinor? Do you think the Valar took Elwing there as well? No body was ever found." Cirdan mused.

"I think we have no way of knowing, unless the Valar see fit to send us a sign." Ereinion returned. "Though it would be fitting if they chose to send the message through Elrond."

Xxxxxx

"Elrond?" Laeste called again into the room that was already brightly lit by the morning sun. The elf did not respond and she could see his still figure on the bed. Her tabby cat, Selig slinked past her, stealthily climbing up on the bed and settling on the dark silken hair.

"Selig!" Laeste cried more loudly. "Leave the elfling alone." But Selig only mewed once in response, startling the figure she was perched against. She purred softly and playfully sniffed at the elfling's ear.

Elrond grunted, startled to find himself eye to eye with the cat. The cat rubbed gently at his cheek. "Who might you be?" Elrond asked in a soft voice.

"That's Selig, my cat." Laeste answered. "I am sorry, my Lord. She doesn't usually take to people so quickly." Elrond raised his hand and tentatively held it out a safe distance for the cat to sniff. Once he had the animal's permission, he stroked the soft white fur.

"She is beautiful." Elrond smile. The cat purred, pleased by the elfling's good judgment and proceeded to jump on his lap as he sat up in bed.

"She is also a good judge of character and it seems you have a fine one." Laeste smiled. "I have secured some leggings and shirts closer to your size." She set a small pile of clothes on the desk. "Please get dressed we are expected at the house of healing. I would like you to have a little breakfast before we go. What do you normally eat in the morning?" She half expected the little one to say that he did not eat anything, given that his collarbone showed so prominently at the neck of the nightshirt.

"Lately I have had tea and some bread in the morning."

"Did you like the feast last night?"

"It was wonderful." Elrond smiled.

"But the food was not to your liking."

"The food was delicious, though much richer than I am used to. I would have eaten more, but my stomach has not been well." Elrond admitted softly.

"Be sure to tell the healers." Laeste said in concern. "I am sure they will know a draught that will help. I'll fix you some tea and bring a light breakfast."

"Thank you very much, my Lady." Elrond said politely. Laeste smiled and exited the room.

After a little breakfast, Elrond grabbed his book and followed Laeste to meet the Healers. Noenri, an elf who had survived the second Kinslaying at Doriath, greeted them warmly.

"Young Elrond, it is a pleasure to meet you. I watched your mother grow up and even treated her several times when she fell ill. How long have you been ill?"

"My mother was ill?" Elrond said astounded. The Feanorians had always belittled the slower healing abilities of the Peredhil and admitting to having an illness in front of them had never been an option that Elrond could even conceived of. "I think I fell ill shortly before we left Amon Ereb about two years ago." Gil-Galad, who had just arrived in the healers room drew in his breath at that admission.

"My King!" Noenri bowed and Elrond followed suit. Laeste bowed as well and took her leave.

"Was Elros also ill?" Gil-Galad questioned.

"No, Elros has never been ill." Elrond mumbled embarrassedly.

"Come let me examine you. I have cared for a number of your family. There is no need to hide anything from me, dear boy. Anything you can tell us will be helpful. Even things you are not sure are related."

"Well, at first I thought it was related to an injury I suffered shortly before. Elros wasn't injured as often as I was." Elrond said quietly.

"Did you suffer many injuries?" Noenri probed.

"Yes." He mumbled looking down.

"Why?" Ereinion inquired.

"They decided it would be less likely that we would escape if one of us was kept injured. Maglor spoke out vehemently against it, but if I failed at something, he could not prevent the others from taking advantage of the opportunity. Luckily, it didn't happen too often." Elrond did not meet their eyes. Noenri drew in a deep breath in shock.

"Why did they chose you?" Ereinion said in a low whisper, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Elros was their favorite." The youth stated simple.

"And the last time you were injured, these symptoms started?" Noenri asked.

"Yes, shortly afterwards. Though it might not be related. I had been injured that way before and healed normally." The elfling was suddenly shy and did not want to reveal any more than he had too.

"What was the injury?" Noenri sought to keep his patient talking.

"It was a forfeiture. I didn't spar as well as they expected." Whispered Elrond his eyes were tightly closed, as if by shutting them he could somehow deny what had happened. Over his bowed head, Gil-Galad signaled the healer to check the boy thoroughly. Noenri knew he was to report any scars or other signs of older injuries immediately to his king.

"You spar already with sharpened blades?" Gil-Galad asked incredulously, placing his hand on Elrond's shoulder in comfort.

"Yes, since many years. They started teaching us soon after we arrived in Amon Ereb."

"Child," Gil-Galad said gently but seriously, lifting Elrond's chin. "You did nothing wrong. You did not deserve to suffer such abuse. Here in Mithlond, we would prosecute people for such crimes."

"It was a slash on the chest. They always sting but it should not have led to the stomach ailment." Elrond said, he held out a small book. "I have been studying the healing arts with both Edain and Dwarven healers. I wrote down the symptoms and the treatments that I have tried." Elrond spent the next hour describing his illness and treatments, showing them the list of herbs and draughts he had employed. Gil-Galad reluctantly took leave, convinced that Elrond was now comfortable in the healer's presence. The King was already late for a council meeting.

"I leave you in Noenri's capable hands. Fear not, Elrond, Noenri has been a healer for over a thousand years, he will find the source of the problem. Soon you will be well." He squeezed Elrond's hand in support and left.

"I am impressed, Elrond. You were very systematic in your studies. Come, allow me to examine you." Noenri led him into another room and had him lie back on a bed. "I'm going to palpitate your abdomen and try to assess and locate the source of the problem. Please tell me when you feel the least discomfort and the degree of the pain you experience." The expert healer grimaced in sympathy each time he saw Elrond's pained responses. A spot on the left side revealed an abscess in the colon and likely an inflamed appendix. Elrond groaned in pain and unexpectedly lapsed into unconsciousness.

Xxxxxxxxx

It was many hours later when Elrond awoke, the pinks and oranges of the setting sun were filtering into the spartan room.

"Lie back, Elrond. I don't want you to tear the stitches." Noenri said in a soothing voice, trying to keep his patient calm and still. "Are you in much pain?" Elrond's eyes darted frantically around the room. He was fearful and disoriented. His hands clutched Noenri's arm tightly, and the healer's heart went out to this little prince of fallen kingdoms.

"How could they have allowed this descendant of their beloved Elu Thingol to have suffered such a brutalized childhood?" The eldar healer silently lamented. "How did his brother fare?"

"Elfling, you are safe among friends. Do not fear. I am Noenri, chief healer in the King's service." Noenri could see recognition slowly filter into the elfling's expression, but the thin hands did not ease their grip on the healer's arm.

"Hurts." The youth finally muttered. "Hurts more than before."

"I am sorry for that, young one." The ancient healer soothed as he pried the thin fingers loose and held the boy's hand. "I had to operate. The pain will go away in a few days. I have found and removed the source of the problem. You will fully recover in a few weeks. But I am afraid that you must rest here in the house of healing until the sutures are removed. It will take about a week. Afterwards you must be careful not to overexert yourself until you have fully healed." Elrond looked up at him in astonishment.

"I will be fine? What was wrong?" Relief filled his voice.

"Yes you will be fine." The healer reassured him. "You are lucky that I have seen this poison used before. Your notes on your treatments were excellent. I think you have great potential in the healing arts. You survive because you found the antidote by trial and error."

"A poison?" Elrond said in surprise.

"Yes, likely someone poisoned you shortly before you left Amon Ereb. I can't be sure who would do this. I have met Maglor and Maehdros, and I know that they would not choose such a cowardly method. Although I would never have thought that Maedhros would abuse a child. The poison is also quite rare, so only someone trained in the healing arts would be aware of it or perhaps someone with a vested interest in making your death look accidental."

"But you said that I found the antidote?" Elrond whispered in surprise. "Why didn't it work?"

"Yes, you found and took the antidote, but not before it had inflicted serious damage. That is why you appeared to get better for a while. The poison damaged your intestines, caused polyps, and an abscess in the colon as well as an inflamed appendix. It prevented the absorption of nutrients from the food you ate. Had I not performed the surgery, you would have eventually starved. As it is now, you will have a few weeks of bed rest, and you will be required to take healing draughts several times a day to aid your recovery. We will carefully reintroduce foods. Soft ones at first and add new ones slowly until you fully recover." Elrond closed his eyes, trying to process all this new information. But in his exhaustion, it was too much, and sleep overcame him. Noenri smiled slightly as the thin fingers' grip on his hand eased. Sleep was indeed best for his patient. He gently positioned Elrond's arm, studying the thin line that decorated the pale wrists for a moment, then pulled the blanket securely over his young patient.

It was early the next morning when Thainren shook Elrond gently. He was shocked to see his little elfling so pale. "Laddie, it's time for you to get up. You don't want these elves to think you are lazy." Elrond lips curved up in a smile. He was still too groggy to open his eyes.

"He looks a lot worse than when I brought him here." Said Thainren accusingly. "If I find you have hurt him!" Elrond groaned and opened his eyes.

"Peace, Thainren, I will be well. Noenri said that he saved my life."

"Is that the truth?" Thainren said seriously. "I knew you were thin and your stomach was bothering you, but …" Thainren stopped, not knowing how to express his feelings.

Emotions passed over the Elfling's face: suspicion and anger at his helplessness. No, he thought he could not be sure of anything. Finally, he whispered in an almost fearful voice, "I am not sure." Elrond's reply startled the healer and Gil-Galad, leaving them both speechless. Yes, for sure, nothing could be proven yet. Only Elrond's full recovery would be proof of a kind.

"I'll stay and watch over you, little one," Thainren said seriously. "Give me dwarves any day. Dwarves are tough and straightforward creatures. We have none of this cowardly use of poison. If we find out who is responsible, I will personally take out their kneecaps and other choice appendages with my ax!" Elrond could not help but chuckle at the image of Thainren hovering over Maedhros with his ax.

"Elrond, I give you my word that I too will do all that is in my power to protect you. You will be safe in the palace." Ereinion promised.

"You are always welcome in my house, too, little one," Thainren said protectively. "But first, you must rest and recover. Did you know that they have a huge library here in Mithlond?" The elfling's eyes lit with interest. "I even found a few books in Khuzdul on the Dwarven arts of stonework and metallurgy." He pointed to the small table next to the bed. Thainren knew that books would provide the best distraction for this young one.

"Thank you!" Elrond said excitedly, then added. "I would like to see the library. Is it far?"

"It is a little walk but still within the palace grounds. You can go as soon as the stitches are removed." Gil-Galad noted the disappointment on Elrond's face and amended his statement. "I will send one of the pages over later." He paused, thinking about who might get along well with Elrond. "You can tell him what kind of books you would like."

Chapter 4: Healing

Chapter Text

It was near lunchtime when Laeste came to visit. Noenri was speaking with one of the other healers about what his young patient would need. Laeste walked past them and sat next to Elrond's bed. Sleeping, the youth looked so vulnerable, and his features were strained as if he was battling some nightmare. Laeste reached out and gently stroked the elfling's head, humming a soft lullaby. The elfling responded in his sleep, leaning into her touch and calming. His need for a caring, stable home tore at her heart. In her musings, she did not notice Noenri approach.

"We should wake him to take medicine and if possible a nutrient draught with nausea preventing herbs." Noenri startled her. He was carrying a tray with the two cups.

"Elrond," Laesta called in soft, soothing tones. "Elrond, young one." She stroked his cheek, and he stirred and blearily opened his eyes. Confusion gave way to a small smile. Noenri and Laeste carefully lifted his lithe frame, setting him in a more upright yet not a full sitting position. The movement made Elrond groan in pain. Noenri carefully inspected the sutures and was happy to already observe signs of healing.

"I think your healing abilities are quite formidable. I see the skin already knitting together. Do you think you can drink this healing and pain draught?" When Elrond nodded, Laeste helped him with the cup.

"Are you hungry?" She asked.

"Yes." Elrond responded, his stomach growled. "I am very hungry." Laeste laughed.

"Of that I have little doubt. I look forward to fattening you up. But let us start with this simple nutrient drink. If all is well, perhaps at dinner you can try some soft but more solid foods." The youth nodded in agreement, but the first sips induced stomach spasms and pain. Noenri supplied some heated towels to gently warm the boy's stomach. Laeste whispered words of encouragement as she slowly coaxed the healing drinks into the youth.

The week of recovery in the house of healing passed swiftly. Thainren, Laeste, and Gil-Galad came to visit regularly. Each brought a book or two from the library, which Elrond proceeded to read voraciously. In fact, the steady supply of books was probably the only thing preventing the elfling from jumping out of bed and potentially tearing the stitches.

Noenri gave Elrond a book detailing the identification of healing herbs and how to grow, harvest, and store the medicinal herbs. The other healers often found themselves stopping by to answer Elrond's questions. Indeed, Noenri had yet to escape without having to answer a question. This time, he was checking the sutures and gave a small grin when he saw the thoughtful look in Elrond's eyes.

"Master Noenri, if the herb is less potent when grown under different conditions or stored different ways, then the amount of healing substance inside them must be different. Is there a way to measure how much of it is in a sample to know how potent an herb is?" Elrond asked.

Noenri almost laughed aloud. Yes, he would be able to remove the stitches tomorrow and send this inquisitive boy on his way. But there was no denying that the boy would return here with questions. He could easily foresee that this young one would have an impact on the healing arts.

"It would be very useful to know how much variety there is within different herb samples and how much of the healing substance there is in a given draught. Herbs grown under these optimal conditions appear to have very similar amounts of the healing substances within. So, we can be fairly confident of what doses to give a patient. We can only test its potency on a something living, such as an animal or a patient. But it would be very useful to find a simple way of measuring how potent a healing herb is."

Noenri saw the elfling processing this information and knew that more questions were not far behind. He decided the best strategy for escape was to change the subject. "You are progressing well, Elrond. I will be able to remove the stitches tomorrow. Perhaps when Laeste comes we will get you up and around." A large grin was immediately plastered on Elrond's face.

"I can not wait to be free of this bed!" He paused for a moment. "How do you know how many healing substances are in each herb?" Noenri smiled and ruffled the elfling's hair.

"That my dear boy is the subject of much conjecture and debate. I'll have to get you some more books after you finish that one. But now you must finish drinking the healing draught, and I must go check on other patients."

"I am sorry to keep you." Elrond apologized. "Thank you for the book!" He sipped some more at the draught. Noenri turned, suppressing the urge to smirk. Yes, the sleeping draught he had added to Elrond's healing draught would be well worth it. All the healers deserved a night off from the constant questions.

It was dark already when the King stopped by. Noenri heard Gil-Galad approaching as he was speaking with one of his most trusted councilors.

"Welcome, Sire." Noenri bowed.

"How fares Elrond this evening?" Gil-Galad inquired.

"He sleeps and should not wake until morning." Noenri told him.

"Is he well?" The King asked in concern. It was unusual for the elfling to be asleep so early.

"Yes, he is well." Noenri reassured him. "I plan to remove the stitches tomorrow morning and if all goes well I will release him. But my staff and I needed a break from the young ones constant questions, so we aided his departure to the path of dreams."

Gil-Galad laughed. "Is that ethical?"

"The young one needs his rest. He will likely need another week to fully recover and will need several months to regain sufficient weight."

"He has interests in the healing arts." Gil-Galad chided. Noenri rolled his eyes.

"I am well aware of his interests. In time, he will make substantial contributions to the healing arts. But given his background and the inevitable war we are facing he can not focus on healing yet."

"No that is true. But, perhaps he could come help an afternoon or two a week." Gil-Galad. "He is yet young, and I would that he had some free time to follow his own interests."

"I have no doubt that even with limited exposure Elrond would rapidly become as qualified as many of my junior healers. He is exceedingly bright and he makes connections that many would not see."

"He will become one of my greatest councilors for that reason." Gil-Galad stated.

"Be sure to ask him sometime how many different substances are in the ink he uses." Noenri smiled. "He devised a method for separating them and believes it might be possible to find out what things are contained in herbs that imbue them with their healing properties." Yes, the boy had great potential. "My Lord, when you decide who his tutors will be, please let me know. If my duties permit I would gladly work with the boy occasionally."

Gil-Galad studied Elrond's sleeping figure. He was glad Indiriel would be returning soon from Isle of Balar, where she had been visiting her Naneth. Indiriel would surely have some insights on how to best guide the elfling.

Xxxxxxxxx

It was early the next morning when Noenri started to remove the sutures. Elrond was remarkably calm and relaxed to the procedure, which surely must have been most uncomfortable. Noenri was surprised when the boy appeared so docile and did not ask any questions. The sight of the incision showed a little bleeding. The healer applied some salves to the area and covered it with a bandage. Cirdan had entered at the end of the procedure and stood quietly to the side.

"You are healing well. In a few days you will not even be able to tell that there was any incision there." Noenri said. Elrond did not respond, his eyes cloudy with a far-away look. One of the junior healers took over and finished securing the bandage and pulled down Elrond's tunic. Still, the young boy stared quietly off at something unseen.

"Elrond" Cirdan called, grasping the Elfling by the hand. "Elrond, what do you see?" The boy startled slightly and looked up at Cirdan.

"Elros is happy." He mumbled. Elrond stared off again trying to sort through the images he had seen through their twin bond. It was rare that Elros shared his thoughts and feelings so freely. He always chastised Elrond to be stronger. "Happy Birthday to you to dear Brother." He returned wordlessly to Elros, feeling joy spread through him at Elros' reply. He saw his brother unwrapping presents, surrounded by his loving Edain extended family. He was thanking them for the gift of a new bow. There was another present. This gift proved to be a new tunic. Elrond smiled as he shared his brother's happiness through their twin bond and sent a prayer to Elbereth in thanks. Their Naneth had substituted their birthday for their elvish begetting day celebrations in Sirion. There had been no celebration for many long years in Amon Ereb.

"Can you speak to him over such a distance?" Cirdan questioned skeptically.

"Usually I can only sense his feelings. I told him I was well." Elrond said before he realized with whom he was speaking. He looked up at the eldar elf with the white beard. He did not feel comfortable sharing his feelings with this legendary Elf as of yet. The Healer was standing close by. "Can I leave now?" He asked Noenri.

"Yes, young Lord, I release you from the house of healing. Please refrain from sparring and any other strenuous activity you dream of for at least the next week. Come back if you are having any trouble eating."

"Thank you Master Noenri." Elrond said politely.

"Come elfling. Let me help you to the palace." Cirdan coaxed, helping Elrond to his feet. The boy was unusually quiet.

Elrond did not know why he preferred to have his Birthday remain a secret. Gil-Galad and Laeste seemed very trustworthy and he had taken quite a liking to them. He did not know Cirdan as well yet but was flattered by the noble elf's interest in him. Somehow, he thought he would divulge his secret more readily to Thainren. Perhaps it was just a function of having known the dwarf longer and having shared more with him.

Cirdan recognized the boy's reticence and decided to encourage conversation. "Elrond, next week you must join me for a tour of our port and perhaps a simple trip around the bay. Indiriel, who is soon to be our Queen, will be arriving next week." He saw a surprised look on Elrond's face.

"Indiriel?" He repeated.

"Yes, she is Gil-Galad's betrothed. I think that you will like her, young one. She is swift to humor and very insightful. She is visiting her Mother on the Isle of Balar and is most likely busy making the last of the wedding plans. Ereinion and she will wed at the winter solstice. Have you ever seen a wedding?"

"No." Elrond answered shyly.

"Do you remember any of the celebrations in Sirion?" Cirdan questioned.

"I remember the solstice celebrations." Said Elrond wistfully. "Naneth loved to dance. She often pulled Elros or I out to dance with her. She pined for Adar's company and said that he was a wonderful dancer. But I do not recall seeing them dance. I was five when Eärendil sailed away to seek the aid of the Valar."

"Well, you must participate in the dance of celebration. Do you know how to dance?" Elrond shifted uneasily under the mariner's gaze.

"I remember some, but it has been a long time." He admitted. They had crossed over into the palace garden and Cirdan indicated a bench under a natural awning of climbing roses and Elrond gingerly lowered himself to sit down. The flowers exquisite scents filled the air.

"I am sure that you will enjoy the dance lessons." Cirdan chuckled merrily.

"Lord Cirdan" Elrond began tentatively.

"Just Cirdan, please." He instructed.

"Cirdan, you knew my father well. Would you tell me about him?" Elrond asked slowly. Cirdan related many stories of Eärendil's childhood and his arrival at Nan-Tathren and eventually how his family had settled near the mouth of Sirion. He told of Eärendil's entry into the shipbuilding as well as tales of his mischief on his first voyages and how his grandparents had departed for the West. He described Elwing and Eärendil meeting and their marriage.

"It was Gil-Galad who presided over your parents bonding ceremony. It was he who added the traditional blessings of the Noldor. I think it was one of the happiest days of his life. I stood beside Eärendil at the ceremony and added the Teleri blessing."

Elrond listened in rapt attention. His heart felt as if it might burst with happiness at finally hearing true stories at feeling a connection to his parent's lives. He felt for the bonds to his parents, taking both comfort and solace at the familiar emptiness and remaining pain.

Cirdan could sense the conflicting emotions in the boy and decided to delay any discussion of Eärendil's voyage. It was anyone's guess as to whether Eärendil had actually reached Valinor. The question of the fate of Elwing was even more mysterious, though the sea whispered to Cirdan that she was safe among the Elves of Aman. Cirdan's thoughts were interrupted by the low growl of Elrond's stomach.

"Well, Elrond, it is time to join the others for lunch." He smiled. "We can not have you missing any meals for awhile." He helped the boy up, and they walked slowly towards the palace.

Chapter 5: Sparring

Chapter Text

Gil-Galad toured the south wing of the palace. It was one of the places where the Dwarven stonemasons were enthusiastically working. Thainren met with the King to explain their progress and together they viewed the blueprints and architectural plans for the Great Hall. Once they were finished their discussions turned towards Elrond, who had endeared himself to both of them.

"I am heartened that Elrond is recovering so quickly. He looked much improved yesterday." Thainren said. "The young one has survived so much, and he is already an able warrior."

"Have you observed him in combat?" Gil-Galad asked curiously. It had not occurred to him that someone so young in terms of Elven development would have experienced a battle. In the count of the Edain, though, this one would have recently reached his majority. Still, Gil-Galad was sure that in temperament Elrond leaned towards his Elvish heritage.

"Elrond is skilled with the blade." Thainren said. "On our trip home we were attacked twice by Orcs. The elf defended himself and others admirably. Already, I would feel honored to have him fight beside me. What he lacks in strength, he more than compensates for with agility and dexterity. Now that his physical development is no longer hindered by poison, he will become a formidable warrior."

"Perhaps we can arrange to see him spar later. Then I can assess his skill. Unfortunately, it is important for him to be well-trained in combat. War is coming, much sooner than I would have hoped. I think it will be upon us in a mere decade." Gil-Galad lamented.

"Is he well enough to spar?" Asked Thainren anxiously.

"The healers said that in a few more days he will be able to participate in all activities. He sneaks away to jog in the morning, despite advice to the contrary. The tutors have kept him busy testing his knowledge this week to keep him away from more strenuous activities." The King smiled. "A week confined to bed was most difficult for him to endure. By the way, I think he will be joining you later."

Xxxxxxxx Days later xxxxxxxX

Elrond and Laeste were just finishing breakfast when Gil-Galad and Cirdan entered. Elrond was wondering what test he would be facing today. Surely, all the subjects he could think of had already been covered. He felt much stronger already. This morning he had again done calisthenics and taken a short jog along the beach. The exercise left him feeling better than he had in several years.

"I hear that you were out running this morning." Cirdan called. "Several people down by the docks were wondering who you were."

"It was a beautiful brisk morning, perfect weather for a jog. I have not been able to do that in awhile." Elrond replied pausing to take a bite of egg. "What exam is in store today?"

Elrond's week had passed quickly. He sat for numerous exams, testing his abilities in math and in spoken and written languages including Quenyan, Sindarin, Khuzdul, and Westron. Other tutors assessed his knowledge in history, science, geography and economics. The councilors and the King were surprised and pleased by how advanced the elfling proved to be. Already, he could aid his King as a diplomat and translator. The King and councilors were beginning to draw up plans for furthering Elrond's education. They were considering having him to come to court two days a week. Merwen was going to start giving him lessons on the law and introduce court practices and procedures.

"Elrond" Gil-Galad questioned. "Who tutored you?"

"Maglor tutored us in many subjects as well as in music. I think that he loved us in his own way." Elrond said, his eyes not meeting his King's. Gil-Galad's sharp eyes could perceive the faintest of shudders passing through the young one.

"Did Maglor give you that harp?" Laeste asked.

"Yes and he taught me to play." Laeste perked up at that admission.

"That I must hear! You must play for me later!" She exclaimed, smiling when the boy blushed slightly with embarrassment at the gentle laughter from the ellyn gathered at the table.

"If you are feeling up to it, I thought that we would go down to training fields." Cirdan said eyeing the boy curiously.

"I have heard from Thainren that you have some skill with the blade." Gil-Galad added. "Given that war is coming, I have mandated that all our citizens receive basic training in self-defense. What type of training have you thus far received?"

Elrond looked suddenly pale as he stared down at his plate. "We were trained to use the sword and bow. I sparred a few times with the men last year and was intermittently assigned to their patrols as the situation required."

"Did you spar often with Elros?" Cirdan probed.

"In the early morning away from prying eyes. Elros is much better than I am with the bow, but we are equally matched with the sword." Elrond admitted. "Maglor worked with us often in an attempt to shield us from the other elves."

Xxxxxxx

Having already donned protective jackets, Cirdan and Elrond walked into the weapons storage house. "What type of blade have you practice with thus far?" Cirdan questioned. Elrond scanned the numerous swords lining the walls and settled on the heavy, double-edged broadsword that the Feanorians were known to favor. He closed his eyes briefly willing the terrible memories aside.

"Maedhros favored the broadsword." He said softly. "That is what they taught us with." Cirdan observed the young elf beside him carefully.

"That is too large and heavy for one of your stature." He pulled a thinner more tapered, blade from the wall that was fitted with an exquisite pommel. Its dimensions were similar to the broadsword, but its weight and balance were more suited to the youth before him. "Might I suggest this." He handed Elrond the blade. "I believe it would be far more appropriate."

The boy nodded calmly as he took the sword. They walked back out into the courtyard. Cirdan could sense a change sweep through the elf before him. "Warm up for awhile. Then we can practice and spar together." A slight shiver passed through the boy, then he nodded submissively and drew himself up to his full height. His face was suddenly masked, and he tightly guarded his emotions. In his concentration, the world around him fell away as he focused solely on the task at hand.

Thainren and Gil-Galad fell silent as they watched the elfling expertly execute intricate practice forms. Elrond's movements increased in speed as he slowly tested the size and balance of the new blade. The slim figure soon adjusted to lighter blade, and his fluid movements were beautiful, resembling more a lithe dancer than a warrior. Cirdan and Gil-Galad exchanged looks of surprise at the youth's proficiency. His forms were obviously biased by the Feanorian's techniques, but his style was unique. To have developed so far would have taken years of practice. Most elves in Mithlond did not start practicing with practice blades until they reached twenty. Thainren just smiled at both the older elves in appreciation and relief that this was to be a friendly practice session and not a life-or-death situation.

"You are beautiful to watch, Elrond, graceful beyond your years." Cirdan's jolly voice rang out. He was attempting to ease the tension in the young one. It was obvious from his masked expression that the elf before him had never practiced for enjoyment. "Shall we spar?"

"As you wish, my Lord." Elrond returned not acknowledging the complement. He stood tall and bowed respectfully. At his full height, he was less than a head shorter than Cirdan, but his slim frame made him look petite next to the comparatively stout muscular mariner.

Cirdan bowed in return and was taken aback when the face of the elf before him sharpened into the unreadable expression of a seasoned warrior. The mariner was careful to keep his first strokes light and even determined not to overpower the young one, who had just recovered from his bout with poison. The aim of this sparring session was to assess the elf's skill.

The councilors and several of the trainers had joined them, surprised to see the youth's grace and agility. His eyes never betrayed where his next move would strike, and he varied his movements, never falling into a cadence that could be anticipated by his opponent. Elrond anticipated Cirdan's moves well, adjusting and deflecting the blows as the mariner's thrusts came steadily faster and stronger. The youth's footwork was quick and even. He danced lightly, meeting each trust and parry as the pace increased. He spun quickly to his right, initiating an aggressive attack across the mariner's opposite side. Cirdan raised his brow in surprise at the youth's audacity; happily meeting the attack with a series of deftly executed defensive maneuvers. The Peredhel had spunk, courage and creativity. With training and strengthening, this one would be a formidable opponent.

The youth was tiring as the sparring session progressed. Cirdan had not expected it to last this long. Already nearly three quarters of an hour had past. Discerning the boy's weariness, Cirdan moved to disarm him more quickly. Elrond retreat backwards in response to Cirdan's forceful cut on the edge of his blade, only just sidestepping the derobement. The movement forced the boy to take the low line in his return thrust. He correctly read Cirdan's attempt to entrap, seeing the Mariner's diagonal motion. But his riposte did not carry enough strength to fully avoid the counter-attack. As the Mariner brought his full strength to bear, Elrond was knocked off kilter and his sword flew from his hand.

The youth bowed, trying to control his panting and then he stood tall. His face betrayed no emotion as he spoke out of reflex in clear, perfect high Quenyan. "What forfeiture does my Lord require?"

Cirdan stared at him, not comprehending the meaning of his words, merely bowing in return. "I enjoyed our session, Elrond. You are skilled beyond your years and perhaps you should continue your training with our warriors, though they are many years your senior."

The King, though, had clearly understood Elrond's fears as well as the reasons that belied his extraordinary skill with the blade. Grief filled his heart at the thought that he had left Earendil's sons at the mercy of Maehdros where they were subjected to such abuse. He walked over to Elrond, placing his hand gently on his shoulder. He spoke quietly in Quenyan. "Such forfeitures are not the way of honorable Elves, Elrond. It is my sincere hope that you will find the Elves of Mithlond are indeed all honorable." Elrond relaxed his carefully guarded warrior mask, relief flowing through him.

"Laddie, you did very well." Thainren patted him on the back and laughed. "You held you own against an elf who is what, ten thousand years older than you." This statement brought a true smile to the boy's lips. "And you complain when I refer to you as little one, when only thirty years lie between us."

"Come Elfling." Cirdan sighed in mock indignation. "A bath and change of clothes are in order."

"Indiriel arrives shortly." Gil-Galad smiled.

The King, councilors and Thainren took their leave while Cirdan and Elrond proceeded to the warrior showers. Elrond was surprised by the size of the lockers and large bathing pool. Cirdan soaped and rinsed and then stepped into the pool. Elrond imitated his actions and sank into the heated waters. Cirdan could not help but notice the boney figure before him.

"I will talk with the trainers later and he will design a course of exercise to help strengthen you. I am sure that Laeste will see that you receive all the proper nutrients and soon you will feel much stronger." Cirdan said. The boy nodded in agreement.

"You are much stronger than I. If you had wanted, the match would have ended much earlier."

"Do not think that I had that much control over the length of the match. You are quite skilled for your age. Remember, the aim of these practice session is to improve your skills. I think that was not the aim of the sparring matches in Amon Ereb."

"No, the aim was to humiliate the Peredhil." Elrond whispered. "I would not have that be the situation ever again."

"You were but a child there. Here it is clear that you are developing and will soon reach your full stature and strength. The Feanorians will no longer have the advantage should you ever meet again." Cirdan reassured him. "The long life of the Elves means that we experience much sorrow and misfortune." The Mariner opened his heart to the boy before him allowing Elrond to sense the depth of this ancient one's pain and loss. "We can not allow ourselves to dwell solely on these experiences as it diminishes our ability to appreciate the love and joy that our spirits were truly created for."

Chapter 6: Indiriel's Arrival

Chapter Text

They started off on the twenty-five minute walked down to the port. Thainren joined them and the dwarf, half-elf and ancient silver-haired mariner made quite an eye-turning trio. It was mid afternoon and the sun glistened brightly on the sparkling blue water of the bay. The sky was unusually clear and one could see for leagues. Six tall ships were anchored in the harbor as well as hundreds of smaller ships. There were fishing boats and sailboats bedecked with sails of many different colors and patterns. The effect was dazzling, and it made Elrond feel like a small boy again taking in the sights with awe and wonder. Tears threatened at Elrond's eyes but taking a deep breath, he willed them away.

"What are you thinking of little one?" Thainren asked, perceiving the melancholy in his companion.

"I saw my father sail from here long ago. My Mother, Elros and I waited until his ship disappeared beyond the horizon."

"I remember that day. You were so tiny perhaps just over two feet tall. Little cherubs chasing each other gleefully around on the sand." Cirdan smiled. "I think that was the last time I saw you."

"Do you think the Vingilot made it to Valinor? Do you think Ada succeeded in beseeching the Valar for aid?" Elrond voice was low and serious. "He who could speak on behalf of elves and men?

"If some tragedy befell them the sea would have told me and I have not heard any whispers or laments." Cirdan answered lightly. "The appearance of the bright new star Gil-Estel just a few years ago gives me hope that perhaps your father did reach Valinor. Time there somehow moves differently. If any could sway the hearts of the Valor to our cause it would be Eärendil. How your father managed to persuade your mother to allow him to sail, I will never know." He shook his head slightly and rested his hand on the shoulder of the young elf beside him. "I can not believe the sacrifices that your family has made for the good of Middle Earth would go unrewarded."

Elrond wished silently that somehow his family could be reunited again.

"Now that's a thing of beauty." Thainren said pointing. A boat with luminous white billowing sails glided into the bay. The sun glistened behind it making it look ethereal. The three of them stood in quiet admiration. A rustling sound behind them broke the spell. The King and his entourage approached.

"Elrond!" Came Ereinion's jubilant voice. "Do you remember this port?" Elrond nodded and smiled. "Merwen is drawing up a plan for your studies. We should meet with him tomorrow and decide if it is appropriate. Perhaps you will spend mornings with the tutors and then a few afternoons a week on the training fields. Noenri suggested that you might enjoy helping out at the House of Healing once a week."

"I would like that." Elrond said enthusiastically. Then he turned to watch the boat approach. The captain maneuvered the ship precisely into the one vacant space left on the dock in front of them. Several elves jumped off and tied the boat to the moorings. Then a plank was extended over the dock and a number of elves departed.

Gil-Galad stepped up to greet a stunning beauty with shimmering silver hair and azure eyes. She was clothes in a striking blue dress and wrapped in a navy cloak.

"Ereinion!" Came her melodic voice. "I missed you. Two months never passed by so slowly." They kissed and Gil-Galad drew her away from the boat. Their arms linked and dazzling smiles blessed the faces of two lovers.

"Indiriel, welcome back my love. I have someone I would like you to meet." She smiled at the dark haired elf before her, who stood admiring her with wide eyes.

"This is Elrond, Eärendil's son newly returned to us thanks to Master Thainren." Ereinion pointed at the Dwarf, who proceeded to bow. Elrond also bowed elegantly and politely accepted Indiriel's hand, bestowing a little kiss upon it, just as Laeste had coached him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Indiriel." He said shyly, a light blush coloring his cheeks. Indiriel knew how Ereinion had despaired when Eärendil's children were lost to him. This one must be barely older than twenty, yet already so tall, almost as tall as an adult, but still had those child-like eyes.

"The pleasure is mine, Elrond. You look much like your father." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, delighting when the blush upon it deepened.

"Welcome to Mithlond, little one." She teased. The others chuckled at Elrond's reaction.

"How is your Naneth?" Cirdan asked, reaching over to embrace his great, great grandniece.

"She is well and sends some of your favorite fruit tarts. We should enjoy them tonight while they are fresh."

"Elrond." Cirdan ruffled the dark hair. "You are in for a treat tonight, elfling." Together the group began the return trip to the palace. The small smile gracing the young elf's face warmed all their hearts.

Xxxxxxx

The weeks passed joyously for Elrond who blossomed under the gentle love and care of his new friends and family. Beneath Laeste's watchful eyes he gradually regained weight and slowly began to sport the healthy glow that was natural for elves. Through daily exercise and time spent at the training fields Elrond progressively built his stamina. Morning lessons covered diverse topics and he had never felt so engaged and alive. He made friends with an elf who was apprenticing in the Kings service, a Noldo named Erestor, who had just reached his second century. Erestor and Elrond sometimes worked together on projects and recently had been paired for sparring sessions, though Elrond had much more experienced with the sword.

This morning Elrond was busy in the library. It was an impressive two-story structure whose main room was twice as large as the King's great hall. Elrond was scanning the primary literature for the origins of the three current Dwarven cities. He had already had the pleasure of visiting Belegost with Thainren. So he had first-hand knowledge of it. But he needed more information to complete the assignment Merwen had given him. Suddenly, Elrond felt a flood of overwhelming anxiety that was not his own. He sat down, closing his eyes and was immediately transported in thought to Elros, who was standing silently listening in horror to a scout report. Orc marauders had been spotted nearby the town and Edain leaders were grimly considering the size and strength of their foes. Elrond willed calm, strength, and courage towards his brother through their bond. Elros spoke, giving his opinion on strategies to engage the enemy away from the town's vulnerable inhabitants. Elrond felt pride swell through him at his brother's insights and abilities. The town leaders continued to argue over defensive strategies while Elros proceeded to gather a group for a surprise strike. The connection between the twins receded and Elrond trembled, fearing for his brother who was now so far beyond his aid. Elrond looked around the quiet stacks of books, knowing that he could not bear to stay here while his brother faced his first battle. He rose and his feet led him out of the building into the courtyard. He sought comfort in the majestic live Oak that thrived in the King's garden. He climbed the great tree and settled on a strong limb. The Oak responded to the boy's anxiety, nestling its leaves to hide him and singing a soothing lullaby to comfort him.

How long he secreted himself within the safety of the Oak, he couldn't say. Perhaps an hour had past when he felt again waves of emotion, the intensity of battle fury flowing from Elros. He willed all his strength towards his brother. In his mind, he saw his twin give the signal to attack. He saw the men descending on the orc horde. Arrows flew and swords crashed in deafening cacophony. He sent a prayer to Elbereth to protect his brother this day.

Xxxxxxx

Lady Indiriel spotted the elfling crouched in the Oak above her. Setting aside her cloak and slipping off her shoes, she proceeded to climb up to him. His eyes were closed and he was quaking with fear. Although she did not understand the reasons for his terror, she drew him into her arms. She held him in a gentle embrace as he weathered the vision that he was experiencing. Long minutes passed and still she held him soothingly. After a time, she felt relief sweep through him. He relaxed into her arms, slowly returning to himself. The shining silver eyes opened in confusion. An unnatural weariness characterized his speech and movement.

"My lady" he mumbled in embarrassment.

"Shhh Elrond, be at peace. You are safe here." Indiriel soothed, kissing him gently on the brow. "What did you see young one?"

His voice cracked and he brokenly stuttered. "Marauding orcs came upon the town where my brother is living. He organized a surprise attack... so many …. so much black blood." The elfling trembled again. "The Edain were victorious. But Elros grieves for a fallen friend."

"You can see so clearly through his eyes? You can talk to him over such a distance?" She studied the young one in her arms with wonder. Smiling at him reassuringly, she slowly stroked his dark hair.

"Only sometimes … when we both are open to it. Elros shielded his thoughts from me in Amon Ereb and blocked communication through our bond. Now it is generally only when we want to share great happiness. Perhaps this time it was because Elros was under such stress. Is having such an ability unusual? We did not dare describe it to Maglor or Maedhros."

"I have not heard of many who are capable of such far-speak, though it is not unheard of." Indiriel said thoughtfully. "The most skilled are kin of yours. It is said that the Lady Artanis, who is also known as Galadriel, and her husband Celeborn can speak over great distances." She eyed the boy's pale features. It was as if his own strength had somehow flowed out of him. Could he send his strength to his brother as well? Fine lines of exhaustion played around the silver eyes.

"You also shared his emotions." He nodded weakly acknowledging the truth of her words. "That I think you can learn to shield yourself from and limit the communication to speaking to each other. Handling one's own emotions is surely difficult enough. I am certain that the Lady Galadriel can help you. She will visit next month for the wedding." The traumatized youth did not reply.

"Come Elrond, let us brew some soothing tea." She helped him down from the Oak and led him back towards his room.

Xxxxxxx

The King approached Merwen after the council session was finished. "That was an excellent treaty, well written and extremely insightful."

"Thank you" Merwen said. The counselor held his ground, withstanding the piercing glare of his King.

"It did not have your usual stylistic marks." The King noted wryly.

"No, it did not. The boy is very advanced. There is no reason that his homework can't be topical." Merwen sighed slightly. "Although he is too young to attend council."

"Yes, he is." The King agreed. "But you may continue to use him in the capacity as long as he and others are kept unaware. It would not be wise for the court to learn of his abilities yet." Merwen nodded in understanding.

Gil-Galad sighed. "I promised to take care of Eärendil's sons, yet I foresee that they will both do much more for me than I will ever be able to do for them. Good night Merwen."

"Goodnight, my King." Merwen bowed and took his leave. Gil-Galad exited the council room and headed down the long corridor towards the family quarter. A soft sigh rose within him as he spotted his silver Queen.

"My love, I count the days now until our bonding." He held her hand and kissed her gently drinking in the love held in her azure eyes.

"Tis less than a month." She smiled, delighting in his presence. "Come let's share dinner together. They talked about the wedding preparations and the imminent arrival of Indiriel's Naneth.

"The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn will accompany my Mother. They plan to arrive in three weeks." Indiriel then relayed all that had happened to Elrond earlier that day. Ereinion was silent in surprise. " I gave him a potent sleeping draught. He should have a long and dreamless rest."

"That was wise." Ereinion observed. "Thank you for caring for him." Indiriel leaned over and squeezed his hand in support.

"You care a great deal for the young one. I can already see why. He is quite charming."

"He and Elros are truly capable of such far-speak?" Gil-Galad said in astonishment. "Cirdan had mentioned an incident in the house of healing but he was quite skeptical. They are young to show such gifts."

"I have no doubts. You would not doubt it either if you had observed him. I only hope that the Lady Galadriel can teach him to control this ability and to block the emotions from his brother." Indiriel said compassionately. "Twenty-three is very young for an elf but a half-elf develops more quickly. How old was Eärendil when he set sail?"

"I do not know exactly, though surely he was less than forty. He and Elwing had just celebrated their six anniversary."

"So physically, Elrond grows more slowly than his father did?"

"That could be due to his years in captivity and the starvation that he endured." Gil-Galad paused assessing his young charge. "But also when I look at Elrond, I see one whose dreams and goals are kin with the Elves, although entwined in his spirit are also the inventive drive of the Edain and the gentle wisdom of the Maiar. Eärendil had these components as well but I always felt that the overarching melody of his soul was tied to the Edain."

"Have you heard any descriptions of Elros?" Indiriel asked curiously. " Elrond predicts that Elros will come to Mithlond in another year or two."

"That gives us time to sway the young one's heart. From what I glean from the Edain village, Elros has already chosen his path. I have so little family left. I would like to win Elrond for the Elves. I wish him to remain with us." He saw Indiriel's smile and leaned over to kiss her.

"I wish that as well." She purred enjoying another stolen kiss. "You will have more family in another month. Just a few more weeks, my love."

Chapter 7: Abilities from the Maiar

Chapter Text

"Elrond." Someone called to him through the darkness. "Elrond!" The voice continued incessantly disturbing his dreams.

"Elros, let me sleep!'' Elrond murmured sleepily and turned over.

"Elrond, I need your help, brother." Elrond woke and rubbed his eyes. In the moon's absence the night was pitch black. He crawled out of bed and fumbled around to light the candles. The night air was cool and he shivering slightly as he reached for his robe. He was alone in the room.

"What do you need, Elros?" Elrond replied in his mind.

"We are planning to abandon the village."

"Why?"

"The orcs increase in numbers. We cannot hold them back for long. We need to move the women, children and elderly to safety. They would like to join the Edain settlement of Baath on the secure western plains of Beleriand. Can you help me draw up an official letter to the High King? We would be moving through and into his territory. Do you think that he would approve?"

"I can't speak for Ereinion but he is wise and kind. There are several Edain settlements within his territory. I think that he would approve of your proposal."

"Ereinion?"

"Ereinion Gil-Galad the High King." Elrond explained.

"You know him so well?" Came Elros' astonished voice.

"He would like to meet you, Elros." Elrond said.

"Soon. They have elected me to the town leadership." Elros admitted. "I have responsibilities now to protect my people."

"Your people?" Elrond questioned.

"My heart belongs with them. Can you help?" Elros asked.

"Yes, I can help you draft the correspondence. How many people do you estimate?"

"Possibly five hundred will move with us." The twins argued and debated the wording of the letter, furiously jotting down their ideas on paper. As the discussions continued, words were crossed out, and more were suggested. It was nearly dawn when they had agreed on a complete draft.

"It would be easier if you were here, brother. I miss you." Yawned Elrond, thoroughly exhausted. He put down his pen and looked over the rough draft. Most likely, Elros' draft was messier.

"I miss you too, big brother." Elros teased. "Thank you for your help."

"You are most welcome," Elrond said. "Now that I am healthy, I may catch you in height and truly be the big brother."

"You are healthy?"

"Yes, apparently I was poisoned in Amon Ereb. The healer here recognized the symptoms. All is well now." Elrond assured him. "I even sparred with Cirdan the ancient mariner. Will you send the letter today?"

"I have contacted a green elf who scouts and gathers information for your King. He promised to deliver it later today using a messenger bird." Elros added

"My King?"

"Is he not? I can tell you are happy that he has already won your allegiance."

"I am happy here, happier than any time since we left Sirion." Elrond replied tiredly. "Though I miss you."

"I miss you too. It eases my heart to know you are healthy and well. We will see each other soon." Elros promised.

"Goodnight brother." Elrond yawned, his eyes closing in exhaustion. Outside the sun was just beginning to rise.

Xxxxxxx

Indiriel was sitting in the family dining room discussing the timing and logistics of guest arrivals with her ladies in waiting. Her Naneth would be arriving today. Ereinion peaked in and she paused, coming over to kiss him.

"Can I borrow Elrond and several of your pages? We will need additional people to coordinate all the arrivals. Elrond is so well organized."

"Yes of course. I was just looking for him to escape on an early morning ride. You can have him when we return. Has he come down for breakfast yet?"

"No, he has not yet appeared. It is late for him. He usually rises with the dawn." She waved as her betrothed departed. Then turned back to the last minute wedding details.

Ereinion knocked on the door to Elrond's chambers. When there was no response he opened the door and peered inside. He spied Elrond slumped in the chair with his head resting on the desk. The candles had burned down low as if the elf had worked through the night.

Ereinion smiled and snuck up behind the sleeping elf. "Elrond!" He said loudly, laughing as Elrond jumped.

"Ereinion! What?" Elrond shrieked in exasperation.

"What have you been up to? Surely Merwen does not require you to work through the night!" The King glanced at the papers on the desk and recognized his name at the top. He looked more closely at the letter. "You are writing to me?" Elrond glanced up at him, pausing for a moment.

"No, but Elros is and I was helping him." He admitted. "You are about to receive a strikingly similar letter in his handwriting." Elrond tried to stifle a yawn but was unsuccessful.

"Long distance letter drafting?" The King mused. " I am duly impressed. Come, you must tell me about it on our ride. I can not tackle the long day ahead without first feeling the open wind on my face."

Elrond quickly changed, grabbed two apples and accompanied Gil-Galad down to the stables. They discussed Elros and the request from his people while Elrond munched on an apple.

"He said one of the green elves would see to the letter's delivery." Gil-Galad laughed at that information.

"Your brother must be an excellent scout if he not only detected but cornered the Elf that I sent. Green elves are masters of disguise, and that one in particular can disappear in the forest."

"Then you already knew that Elros had accepted a leadership position?" Elrond said in astonishment.

"Being King has its advantages, though I can not claim to have your ability to far-speak."

"It is said that bonded couples often develop such abilities." Elrond smiled slyly. Ereinion laughed and pushed him.

"Insolent elfling." He teased. "Come, let us feel the wind on our backs." They had arrived at the stables and the Ereinion was eager to mount his favorite black stallion.

Elrond had ridden a chestnut mare several times before. He approached the mare and offered her an apple, stroking her head.

"Would you carry me today, beautiful one?" He requested softly. She neighed in consent and playfully sniffed at the young elf. Elrond mounted and at a slow cantor followed Gil-Galad out of the courtyard and through the city, down towards the grasslands that formed the floodplain. They picked up a small escort of the King's guard on their way, but the guard kept an amiable distance, not wanting to disturb their Lord's pleasure. Once on the open plain Gil-Galad gave a roar.

"First one to that distant tree wins. Noro lim (run fast) wild stallion!" The black horse bolted lightning fast along the open plain.

Xxxxxxx

Laeste smiled as Elrond's flushed face passed the window. Moments later he entered the house. "Indiriel has many tasks for you and you missed breakfast." Elrond nodded in greeting and in response to Laeste's raised brow gave a full bow followed by a polite greeting.

"That will due nicely, young elf. You will be meeting Indiriel's Naneth this morning as well as the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Now come eat quickly and then you will need to wash and change." Elrond did as instructed. The palace was a whirlwind of activity. Thainren's group had finished work on the Great Hall and it was undergoing a transformation into a reception room for the ceremony that was only three days away. The Dwarves had taken their leave several days ago to make room for all the extra wedding guests. Elrond was sad at their departure for Thainren had become a dear friend; however, the Dwarves were due back in Mithlond in a year's time to work on the last wing of the palace.

Xxxxxxx

Indiriel and her Ladies hurried down to the docks. Elrond kept pace, staying slightly behind the ellyth. The ship had already arrived from the Isle of Balar and its' deck was lit by a sea of bright elves. Fair silver, golden and brown heads lined up to get off the boat. Indiriel broke away from the others and ran to embrace her mother. Greetings flowed around the docks like water over a falls as many Elves rejoiced upon reunions.

Elrond straightened automatically when he saw a beautiful and tall golden-haired Lady glide majestically down the platform. She was wrapped in a pale blue dress and looked as if she had descended from Aman, so bright was her glow. Next to her, equal in stature was a silver Lord. "They are well matched, silver and gold, and remind me of the light of Telperion and Laurelin, the two trees of Valinor" came Maglor's description of the couple to his mind. This was Nerwen, the Lady who spurned Fëanor's requests for a strand of her hair, a proud and regal being who would not be caged.

"I prefer Galadriel." The Lady smiled radiantly and extended her hand to the youth. Elrond bowed low before her and politely kissed the offered hand.

"You have the eyes of Luthien, Eärendil's son." She said melodically.

"I am Elrond, my Lady." He felt her reach out to probe his mind and drew his guard up, halting her probe while he met her eyes squarely to discern if she was a friend or foe. She paused, surprised by the young one's mental strength. Her surprise immediately drew Lord Celeborn's attention and he turned to study the boy before them.

"My Lord Celeborn." Elrond bowed politely. "It is an honor to meet you."

"Greetings Elrond, you look much like your father." Celeborn said kindly.

Deciding these were friends, Elrond lowered his guard and felt Galadriel sift through his thoughts. He schooled himself not to react to the searing pain the probe of his mind caused. Somehow she touched the wounds of his spirit, wounds that lay deep within him. They pained him as if they had opened and began to bleed anew.

Galadriel paused, sensing the depth of the damage to the Peredhel's spirit. She was impressed by his quiet strength and his determination to endure. One could easily recognize that these wounds to his Fëa were such that they could not be fully healed on this side of the sea. These were emotional wounds from the loss of his parents, from the onslaught at Sirion, from the abuse of Amon Ereb, and the separation from his twin. These were wounds that must be treated with gentle but insistent probing to reopen and reexamine them, to allow them to bleed and to scab over. This simple repetition would slowly allow them to close and heal to more manageable hurts. If he were just an elf, he would have already faded from such wounds. But his mixed heritage from three races somehow imbued this one with greater resilience. She knew that this child of Elwing was destined for yet greater challenges, and she could perceive that Elrond's heart had a great capacity to love. Mentally, she drew back from him and gently grasped his arm gifting him strength.

"I will help you, young one. I will train you as Melian trained me." She spoke directly into his mind.

"Thank you, Lady." He intoned wordlessly, holding back a groan of pain. Both Galadriel and Celeborn were surprised by his ability for mind-speak.

Elrond felt strangely dazed and drained from the Ladies presence, but he kept his composure enough to graciously greet Indiriel's mother. The experiences of the previous night coupled with this busy morning though were taking their toll and Elrond did not notice Cirdan's arrival. He did not catch the disapproving glare that the Mariner sent Galadriel.

"He needs to rest." Was all the explanation that the Lady gave Cirdan. The Mariner nodded and guided Elrond to his house a block away. He led the boy into a quiet, private living room. Elrond settled onto a cushioned chair and sank immediately into sleep.

It was several hours later when Elrond stirred and stretched, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. Pictures lined one wall of the room. He recognized his parents and stood to get a closer look, studying the figures in the other pictures as well. The oldest portrait, slightly faded and obviously retouched, was of a happy couple. The elf had Cirdan's features but no beard.

"Good to see you awake." The Mariner said upon entering the room. "Yes, that is my wife and I. She has already crossed the sea and I will join her when I can. You, lad were always curious about what lay beneath this beard. You used to constantly ask me when you were little, just moments before you would attempt to grab it." Cirdan handed Elrond a small glass.

"Drink this, it is a restorative." He looked discerningly at Elrond as if deciding upon a course of action. "Let's keep you away from Galadriel until after the festivities. Ereinion cares a great deal for you. I know he and Indiriel would be greatly disappointed if you were not well enough to attend the ceremony."

Chapter 8: The Wedding

Chapter Text

Laeste helped Elrond secure the elaborate cloak to his blue silk tunic. The cloak, given to him by Ereinion, was woven in the style and patterns of the house of the Noldor Kings but had Eärendil's coat of arms, a Silmaril radiating beams of light emblazoned on the shoulder. (1) Though unknown to Elrond, the mixing of the patterns was symbolic of Ereinion's desire to claimed Elrond for his own house. Elrond moved to braid his hair, but Laeste stopped him.

"You are not yet of age, though you are tall in stature." She stopped him. "Ereinion requested that you wear your hair down as befitting your age according to the count of Elves. Then those you meet today will easily discern your youth." She helped him comb out the tangles from his hair, which fell now halfway between his shoulder and elbow. She added two small decorative pins to guide it away from his face. He was beautiful, this child of Elwing, lovely and exotic. His chiseled features were reminiscent of Beren yet delicate like Luthien, his half-Maiar ancestor. He had an unusual aura about him, a light like yet unlike that of normal elves. Laeste had met almost all of his ancestors, and she enjoyed sharing stories of what they were really like with the youth.

"Do I look so different from other Elves?" Elrond asked quietly, sensing Laeste's thoughts. This day, the Great Hall, which was an architectural and artistic culmination of elvish and dwarfish craftsmanship, would solely be filled with Elves. That is with the exception of Elrond alone. He shivered at that thought. His nine sixteenths of elvish blood granted him access. He wished that Elros was here with him. There was safety in numbers.

"You are beautiful and unique little one. You are very tall elf for your young age. If everyone was the same, this world that Ilúvatar has made would be truly uninteresting." She ruffled his hair gently, not wanting to mess what she had just combed. Elrond, who normally was bursting with questions, had grown reticent over the last few days. Laeste and Cirdan had both noticed that Elrond drew back to the safety of his room in the family wing as the number of Elves in the palace increased. They mused over the possible reasons for this withdrawal. Together they had planned to keep the young elf chaperoned and shield him as much as possible from the public eye and from the wedding crowd. This was to be the young one's first experience at a Noldor royal event. It was the first large elvish celebration that he had attended since Sirion.

"What do you see when you look at your friend, Thainren? He is surely no elf." Elrond laughed, a clear ringing sound that reflected his amusem*nt at picturing his friend forced in some twisted joke give up ale and compelled to lead the life of an elf.

"No, he is definitely not to be mistaken for an elf. But his heart is pure and his words are true. He is kind to others and loyal to his friends. I am happy to have met him."

"Pure in heart, much like you. I am happy to have the opportunity to know and care for you Elrond Eärendilion."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Cirdan entered, regally dressed in his official garb as Lord of the Havens. He smiled approvingly at the pair. "Ahh, here you are. I had wondered where you had been hiding. Are you well Elrond?" He asked in concern, closely studying the boy's reaction.

Elrond grimaced at the word 'hiding' and paused as if deciding whether or not to voice his misgivings. Surely there could be no one from Amon Ereb here. Perhaps it had been his imagination. "Yes, I am well." He answered.

The Mariner pierced him with his keen eyes. "What is troubling you, Elrond? Do you feel uncomfortable here among so many elves?" He knew that tonight there would be more elves in the Great Hall than the elfling had ever seen in one place.

"No, it is not that." Said Elrond now obviously uneasy.

"Come Elfling, we can not help, if you do not share your fears." The boy's eyes darkened slightly. "You are no longer alone. You must trust us as your family."

Elrond's voice fell to a whisper as if he were afraid that by saying it out loud it would somehow make it real. "I … I feel hunted, as if someone tracks me with ill intentions." He paused then tentatively asked. "There can be no one from Amon Ereb here, can there?"

"There are no Kinslayers here." Cirdan stated firmly. He was surprised as this was not any of the possibilities that he and Laeste had considered. "Have you had this feeling before now?"

"No not in years. Back in Amon Ereb this intuition helped me avoid countless confrontations. But I had not had this feeling since we left there at least not until three days ago." Elrond said earnestly. "Perhaps it is nothing. Maybe you are right, and I am just not used to being around such crowds."

"If it bothers you, it should not be dismissed. I will check with the guards to see if anyone new has arrived that might have ties with the Fëanorians. If there is we will investigate. You will stay with Laeste and I most of the evening. Avoid places where you would find yourself alone." Cirdan said seriously. He doubted that a Fëanorian would have made it past the guards, but of course the elf who was responsible for the poisoning of the boy was still at large.

"Back to the events at hand." Laeste interrupted, feeling the need to lighten the air. "I need to warn you that certain characters are known to overindulge when celebrating and will likely be inebriated as the night progresses. Do not be surprise if someone mistakes you for your father, fifteen years is short in the count of elves and you resemble him even if your hair is dark like your Naneth's. I should also warn you that the most outrageous, drunken one is likely to be a golden haired elf named Gildor." At this Cirdan laughed loudly.

"Yes, remind me to introduce you to that lush. He is most entertaining." Cirdan smirked, ignoring the looks of disdain that Laeste flashed his way. "Well, it is almost time, we should make our way out to the courtyard.

The sun had already passed overhead and had started to slip towards the horizon when the ceremony began. Elrond and Laeste sat to the left of the natural gazebo constructed from live wisteria vines interspersed with fresh white Chrysanthemum blossoms. To Elrond, the scene appeared blissful and serene, especially with the lilting music that seemed to sing directly to his soul. The musicians were set up next to the gazebo. There were two golden-haired elves and three darker ones. Previously, Elrond had only ever heard a harp. Maglor, a minstrel, had taught him to play. Here, there was a harp player, a flutist, a long lute player and two elves using woodwind instruments that Elrond did not recognize. The wind instruments were similar: both had a reed mouthpiece on a wooden tube and multiple finger-holes differing only in the length of the tube. Laeste called them chalumeaus. The two sizes, alto and tenor, produced different octaves. Elrond found their tones both haunting and beautiful. So enthralled was he by the music that he did not notice the procession start.

A flash of white and blue caught his attention, and he was startled to see Indiriel and her Mother walk by him and step up into the gazebo. Indiriel's glowing white silk gown glistened in the sunlight due to small delicate crystals that were sewn into the dress. She wore a delicate pale blue organza cape, and her flowing silver hair was woven with thin blue ribbons and jewels. She radiated a joy that seemed to increase as she stepped up next to Ereinion. The High King was dressed in deep navy blue colors with the symmetrical gold and white emblem of Finarfin emblazoned on the sleeves and a sash containing the radiant symbols of a star-covered sky. Cirdan stood behind his foster-son and had his hand on Ereinion's shoulder. Their vows were said twice: once in the melodic tones of High Quenyan and a second time in the more widely known Sindarin.

The joy and love that radiated from the bride and groom was so intense that Elrond looked down for a moment. He silently promised to do all that he could to help protect this couple that he had, in such a short time, grown to love.

"Your parents had that light of love in their eyes on their wedding day as well." Laeste whispered, folding her arm around the young elf's shoulder. "I had the pleasure of witnessing their betrothal ceremony and their wedding. It is my hope that one day, you too Elrond will find such joy in the arms of your soul mate for whatever time Eru blesses you with. Your parents found great happiness in the short time they were gifted together."

Elrond smiled at Laeste and silently wished to Eru that someday he too would find his Silver Queen. Over his musing, he could hear the end of Ereinion's vow in Sindarin.

"Im Ereinion estathar le Indiriel sui hervess nín. Gerich velethnín a guil nín al lû bân. (2,3) (I, Ereinion will name you Indiriel as my wife. You have my love and my life for all time.)

Soon Cirdan stepped forward to give the blessing of the Teleri. Next an elf that Elrond did not recognize stood and gave the Vanyarian blessing. Finally, Cirdan, in place of Erieinion's father, recited the blessings of the Noldor. The bride and groom kissed then linked arms and descended from the gazebo. They stopped to greet many, pausing to embrace Ereinion's Aunt Galadriel and her husband who were also seated in the first row. They stopped in front of Elrond and Laeste. Elrond bowed then embraced Indiriel and shook his King's hand as protocol dictated.

"May Eru bless you with much happiness and many years together." Elrond whispered. A wood elf emerged silently from behind him to greet the new couple. To Elrond's surprise, it was the High King himself and his bride who bowed low to this elusive figure.

The Elf placed his hands on both Ereinion's and Indiriel's heads and murmured a blessing over them in a language that Elrond could not understand. He could feel the power that emanated from the dark figure. Instinctively he knew that this was one of the Avari from the first awakening on the shores of Cuiviénen, perhaps one of the oldest and wisest of Elves of this world.

"Hantanye Herutaurë (Thank you Lord of the Forest (4)) we are most grateful for your blessing." The High King said humbly.

"May Ilúvatar watch over you and bless you." The mysterious elf said, dismissing the newlyweds with a wave of his hand. King Gil-Galad and Queen Indiriel then resumed their course through the crowd, slowly making their way into the Great Hall for the reception.

The elf turned his gaze on Elrond, who bowed humbly before this figure. "Greetings Elrond Eärendilion, heir of Elu Thingol. When it is time, seek me in the forest and I will teach you its secrets." With no further explanation the Elf turned and disappeared into the night.

"It is a great honor to meet the Avari King." Cirdan said softly, appearing behind Elrond. "And an even greater honor to receive an invitation from him. Come Elrond, we should follow the crowd to the Great Hall." Laeste, Cirdan and Elrond walked through the gardens towards the Hall. Many stopped to greet Cirdan along the way and Elrond gave polite greetings, much to Laeste's approval.

Elrond marveled at the gallant pageantry that surrounded the wedding of the High King of the Elves. He found himself suppressing a grin each time one of Thainren's witty remark's would pop into his head, usually when he spied some of the extravagant food sculptures or flower arrangements that were decorating both the gardens and the Great Hall. One long wall of the Hall was lined with glass doors that opened onto the gardens and each of the doors was swathed in white sashes. They passed through one of the glass doors. Star decorations on the ceiling seemed to transform the hall, giving one the illusion that they were eating under the night sky. Our trio filed past many tables before reaching one that was next to the head table, where only the King and Queen would sit. The centerpieces of each table consisted of elaborate votive candles surrounded by an unusual flowering plant that had five-sided white star-like flowers as well as red, lantern shaped pods, that dangled beneath the flowers.

"Elrond" Laeste chided breaking through his thoughts. "Pay attention it is time for the toast." Moments later everyone rose and lifted their goblets to toast to the happiness of the new couple. Elrond took a large sip from his goblet. The fragrant red wine had a bold flavor that almost brought tears to his eyes. He quickly swallowed. The wine seemed stronger than the ale that he had consumed with the Dwarven company. The flavor grew on him, as he slowly sipped it.

"Do not forget to eat, young one." A voice chided from across the table. It was Indiriel's Naneth, she smile kindly. "You remind me much of my own son at the same age. Indiriel tells me that you are interested in learning the healing arts."

"Yes, I would very much like to become a healer, though I think for now it is important to also be trained as a warrior and learn the ways of the court."

"There will be time to follow your dreams, young one."

Elrond looked down curiously at his salad before him. There on a bed of variously shaded green and purple leaves were fern like curls mixed with wild mushrooms and pale yellow, layered slices of some unknown vegetable.

"What is in the salad?" Elrond asked with interest.

"Those are fiddleheads, a type of edible fern and perhaps you have not yet tasted artichoke hearts. They are the center of the unopened flower." Laeste smile. "I think you will enjoy them both." The food alone spurred many questions from the young elf, keeping both Laeste and Ereinion's new Mother-in-law well entertained. There were many unusual dishes that Elrond had never seen before. During one course, Elrond stared curiously at a small plate that held a central yellow cone-shaped flower surrounded by dark green blanched leaves.

"That is Curcurbita pepo, from the squash family." Ereinion's Mother-in-law informed him. "It tastes of the finest nectar and complements the pickled spinach underneath. If you are to be a healer, you should learn which plants are edible as well as which have medicinal value." On the far end of the table sat Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn and several other members of their house. Their conversation did not often drift towards Elrond, and for that he was grateful as there were many interesting things to observe and he was only paying cursory heed to the voices around him.

Once dinner was over, the royal couple led their guests outdoors for the beginning of the dancing and the start of the winter solstice celebrations. Winters in Mithlond were mild due to its proximity to the warm sea. Yet, this was still the shortest day of the year, the day when the sun followed it's lowest arch across the sky. This day and night were shrouded in their own mystery and magic. The music and celebrations of the evening had their roots in ancient rituals. Elrond looked for the Avari King for surely he would know the origins of these dances, but the mysterious elf was nowhere to be found.

The music started, slow at first in a lament for the early departure of the sun then increased in speed to signify the hope of the sun's rebirth. The dances associated with the rapid pace of the music were frantic as if by their energy they sought to bribe the sun to reappear.

The King and Queen danced the early dances together. The love between the pair was obvious to all who beheld them. It was still early when the couple thanked all their guests and took their leave. Elrond was hidden behind Cirdan and the Lord of the Haven's circle of friends. The boy stood entranced clearly enjoying the festivities. He was watching the frenetic dancers twirl and leap around the circular path. The golden Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn were elegantly moving among the circle of dancers, their movements graceful beyond belief. Gold, silver, brown and black shining heads laughed and danced. These were elves of all heritages celebrating the solstice together.

"Who is your young apprentice?" Oropher asked Cirdan pointing towards the oblivious youth. The Sindarin elf had just emerged from the dance circle with his wife.

"That is Elrond, one of Eärendil's sons." Cirdan replied.

"He looks to be as old as my son." Oropher said thoughtfully. "But that can not possibly be so. Eärendil sailed only fifteen years ago. How can he be so tall?"

"Peredhel grow more quickly. He is just over twenty." Cirdan answered turning briefly towards the youth who was intently watching the dancers. Galadriel and Celeborn came over to join them. They both knew Oropher well from the time they had spent together in Doriath. Cirdan poured the ellon cups of wine, while Galadriel politely declined. She walked over to Elrond.

"Would you like to dance?" The Golden Lady smiled. Elrond looked up in surprise.

"I have never danced like that before." Elrond admitted, though he could not disguise the longing in his voice.

"It is not difficult. Come, I will teach you." She took his hand and guided the shy youth into the circle.

The ellon stood outside the path of the dancers enjoying their wine. Gildor was entertaining them with his outrageous stories, though at times, Oropher would add some colorful ones of his own. Cirdan smile at both these noble elves, but he was distracted, watching over his young charge from a distance. Elrond had at first appeared tentative but under Galadriel's guidance rapidly gained skill and soon the pair was swirling around the circle as quickly as the other dancers. Cirdan could see pure joy light up the youth's face. It was an emotion that he knew that Eärendil's son had had precious little time to experience. He hoped that their future would be different that it would contain much happiness. Celeborn paused when he saw that the Mariner had not heard what he was telling him. He followed the ancient elf's gaze towards the boy.

"Galadriel has done a good deed." Cirdan said in approval turning to meet Celeborn's eyes. Then the Mariner raise his cup to toast. "To the future. May there be much joy."

Chapter 9: The Assassin

Chapter Text

Elrond stretched and opened his eyes. The new sun had not yet risen in the sky. Even Elrond's keen eyes could only see the soft silhouettes of the furniture in his room.

"My room!" Joy flowed through him at that thought. He realized that he truly felt at home here now. He felt that he really belonged. Last night was simply marvelous. It shone perfectly in his memory. He did not know how long he had danced with Lady Galadriel until she had taken a break to spend time with her husband. To his surprise, a young elleth approached him and pulled him back into the dance. In his joy, he danced until he found himself partnered with a smiling Laeste, who, after a final spin around the circle, had led him from the dance and back to his room, bidding himgoodnight. He sighed in contentment at the memories. Only then was he aware of a slight weight on his chest. A white fuzzy ball was snuggled on top of him. As he stirred to inspect it more closely, it moved and purred.

"Selig," he said happily. "What a pleasant surprise, beautiful one." She purred more loudly and wiggled up to perch by Elrond's neck. He stroked her gently, scratching the spot behind her ear that she so enjoyed. After a while, the sky began to lighten.

"Well, Selig, I'm going to go for my morning jog. You are welcome to sleep here for a while." The cat purred in agreement and snuggled into the warm spot the elfling had vacated.

Elrond pulled on an old tunic and leggings for his jog and headed outside. The sun had only just risen, and the air was chill and fresh. Fine dew coated the leaves and flowers. The garden was quiet, save for the gently singing of the trees. Elrond sang a greeting in response, then stretched and proceeded to do his calisthenics. Chairs and tables surrounded the area of the garden where last night's celebration had taken place.

Elrond jogged through the garden, down past the house of healing, and through the training area. He was surprised that he met no others along the way. Perhaps most elves had celebrated through the night. He continued across the long practice fields and a short distance through the trees down to the gate that led into town. Two guards waved to him as he crossed the security point and headed through town in the direction of the havens. Few stores were open, and no one was visible on the street. An uneasy feeling came over him at the emptiness, and remembering Cirdan's words, he turned back towards the palace, happy to see the guards as he crossed back onto the palace grounds. He had just traversed the row of trees and emerged onto the practice fields when his senses screamed in warning. Someone was tracking him. He was suddenly aware that he was unarmed and vulnerable. He increased his pace slightly, not wanting to alert the hunter that he was aware of his presence. He headed towards the training grounds and focused on reaching the weapons room. If he had a sword, he could at least defend himself. He could feel his tracker increase his pace to match his, but he dared not turn around, for if the warnings of the trees were correct, the elf behind him was armed and intent on killing him. His heart sank as he approached the training ground and found it deserted. He rushed into the weapons storehouse and pulled a sword from the wall. He felt the elf directly behind him and only just turned in time to meet the sword that descended. It was clear that his attacker had intended to deal him a mortal blow. Their swords clashed again. Elrond realized that he was at a serious disadvantage within the confined storeroom. Most serious was that no one would see or hear them inside. His opponent was dark and tall, and his eyes gleamed with hatred. It was not anyone that Elrond recognized. His opponent thrust his sword towards Elrond's right side as Elrond spun and, ducking underneath, made a dash for the door. Elrond bit back a cry as the blade struck him partway down his right side, catching against his ribs. He felt the blood run down his shirt, but he did not stop to check. Instead, he sprinted out into the open field where he might be able to find help. His attacker rushed up behind him. Spinning on his heel, Elrond immediately lifted his sword in time to block another jarring blow.

"Why do you seek to kill me?" Elrond questioned, willing calm to his voice. If he could buy himself some time and withstand the blows of this seasoned warrior for a little while, help might arrive.

"Seek? I will succeed in a few minutes, you cur. You are a freak of nature. I thought I had killed you already." The Elf's eyes glistened ominously as he inflicted a sharp cut to the edge of the Peredhel's blade, seeking to disarm and quickly finish the youth.

Elrond sent a silent prayer to Elbereth for strength. He was thankful that he had been sparring frequently and had developed more muscle since his bout with Cirdan. The Elf before him was strong and quick, not quite as strong as the Mariner, but then again, the Mariner had not been aiming to kill him. In strength, he was at a distinct disadvantage. He forced himself to concentrate solely on the warrior before him, trying to discern his cadence and gain any advantage possible. Elrond could anticipate the next thrust, side-stepping it, and then blocked a blow directed at his injured right side. He spun quickly to his left in a diagonal attack and slipped his blade underneath his opponent, drawing a shallow line across the other's chest. The elf hissed in disgust and immediately caught Elrond with a glancing blow on his left arm.

"Peredhel, I will play with you no longer." He hissed in rage. "Your kind should never have been allowed to live. Your kind caused the destruction of both Doriath and Sirion."

"I was but ten when Sirion fell. I could not have caused anything." Elrond shifted his weight and altered his rhythm to confuse his attacker. He parried another series of blows drawing on complex defensive maneuvers that Maglor had taught him. For the first time, his strength was enough to ward off the full-force blows of a grown elf. But the blood seeping down his arm and along his side was slowly taxing his strength. The rapid movements were tearing at the wound. He pushed aside the pain and pictured Maehdros rearing in one of the strikes that he had fallen under years ago in Amon Ereb, and instinctively, he imitated the moves, driving his sword into the other's chest. The wound wasn't deep and somehow only seemed to enrage his attacker.

Xxxxxx

It was still dark when Cirdan entered the palace grounds. A nagging worry interrupted his sleep, and he wanted to check if the guards had discovered any connections between the newcomers and Amon Ereb. At the main guardhouse, five of the King's elite guards stood engaged in an animated discussion that quickly dissipated upon Lord Cirdan's entrance.

"Good morning, Lord Cirdan." Cirulian bowed in greeting.

"Has anyone entered the city who might have ties to Amon Ereb or the Fëanorians?" Cirdan asked directly. Cirulian, who sincerely regretted his actions at the first meeting with the Elfling, had taken it upon himself to look out for the young one's well being.

"I have checked and no one is directly related to the Fëanorians, though a scout, Sarniel, had been to Amon Ereb. The scout had returned to Mithlond a week ago. Sarniel had most recently been assigned to a three-month patrol in western Beleriand. But he was a skilled spy and had infiltrated the Fëanorian camp several times while the twins were captive." Cirdan's heart jumped in worry at that news.

"Where is Sarniel now?" He demanded, trying to recall the elf. He remembered that this warrior was a survivor of Doriath and would be known to Celeborn.

"We are trying to locate him. He did not return to his house in the Havens last night." Cirulian said, pausing. "We sent a message to the captain of his patrol, but it is early, and many were celebrating the solstice until the wee hours."

"Cirulian and Durgin accompany me." Cirdan directed roughly, strapping on his sword. "We will check on Elrond. He usually wakes early and jogs down to the Havens and back. The rest of you alert the guards at the security checks that Sarniel is to be brought to me for questioning. If you find him, hold him here in the guardhouse." The Mariner paused briefly, considering the elfling's whereabouts. "If anyone comes across Elrond, have them explain our suspicions. Escort him back to the palace." Cirdan then turned and quickly crossed back towards the family wing.

As expected, Elrond's room was empty. Cirdan hurried through the gardens, hoping to intercept the elfling upon his return from the jog. He was startled to find a well-armed Celeborn striding determinedly towards him.

"Galadriel saw danger." He said by way of explanation. They quickly strode towards the training fields, increasing their pace as they heard the distinct clash of swords. Reaching the field, they saw Elrond and Sarniel locked in mortal combat. Both elves were bloody, but Celeborn could perceive that Sarniel, the seasoned warrior, held the advantage as the wound to Elrond's side bled profusely. They crept closer, unwilling to draw Sarniel's attention nor distract Elrond. Cirdan drew a dagger from his boot and, in an expert throw, sent it to the shoulder of Sarniel's sword arm. The elf cried out in shock. Elrond took advantage of the situation and in one swift motion, derobed him, sending Sarniel's sword flying off to the left. Celeborn swiftly overpowered the elf, pinning him to the ground away from Elrond while Cirdan ran over to Elrond to assess his wounds. The blood flow from a wound to his side required immediate attention lest the elf bleed to death on the training field. There was also a shallow cut on his arm that had stain his sleeve crimson.

"I am sorry we did not arrive sooner." Cirdan guided Elrond to sitting position. Cirulian appeared with bandages.

"You were in time." Elrond panted. "I feared that you might not be." The blood loss was beginning to affect his vision, and he closed his eyes momentarily. Cirdan tied the bandage tightly around the wound on Elrond's side then lifted him.

"I can walk." The Elfling protested weakly.

"I think not, young one." Cirdan chided. "Noenri would have my head if I did not promptly deliver you to his care." He felt Elrond relax in his arms as the adrenaline from the duel dissipated. Moments later, the Elfling went limp, slipping into unconsciousness. Cirdan strode quickly towards the house of healing, only realizing halfway that Celeborn was walking beside him.

"The youth is amazingly skilled with the sword," Celeborn noted. "I have sparred with Sarniel before and know he is an expert swordsman."

"I am thankful that Elrond is so skilled; otherwise, we would have lost him this morning." Cirdan said solemnly. "As it was, he could not have held out much longer." Cirdan sighed. He realized how close they had come to losing this precious child who, in just a few months, had succeeded in capturing their hearts. They brought Elrond directly into the surgery. Silsilalda, a junior healer, prepared his wounds while others left to summon Noenri. Once again, this young elf had faced down a fierce adversary. Cirdan looked one more time at the prone figure before Noenri entered and ushered him out.

"Go Lord Cirdan. I will take care of the young one." Noenri directed. "Go wash yourself."

Cirdan walked towards the sink in the next room and looked down at the red blood on his hands and tunic. It was Elrond's blood. Yet again, he had been unable to protect one that he loved. Celeborn handed him the soap, eyeing him carefully. Cirdan watched as the red turned to pink and finally the color was cleansed from his hands. He prayed that this was one of those times that his friends would be spared. How many times in his long life had he lived such a scene? Celeborn handed him a towel. They both looked up as Cirulian and Durgin entered with a bloodied Sarniel. The elf met Cirdan's eyes defiantly.

"If he dies, then I have completed the task that I could not accomplish with poison." He snarled. His eyes exuded hatred. "Those peredhil are abominations, unnatural freaks. They do not deserve to exist."

"You have failed. The young one will live." He said steadily. "You will pay for your crimes."

"I am not alone in my views." Sarniel challenged, his hands secured behind him. "There are but two peredhil left. This stain on Elf purity can be easily purged now, before it is too late."

"Those views are not tolerated in Mithlond. You will answer for your crimes in front of the High King." Cirdan said, turning from the elf. He signaled for Durgin to lead the elf away.

"Cirulian, he can be treated here for his wounds, but transfer him to the house of healing at the Havens before nightfall. Once the healers agree, I want him placed in a secure holding cell. Make sure that he is well guarded at all times." Cirulian nodded in acknowledgment and turned to follow Durgin.

Chapter 10: Recovery

Chapter Text

It was dark when Elrond opened his eyes. He felt dizzy and disoriented. His side throbbed terribly, but the pain was oddly comforting as it confirmed that he was alive. He recognized that he was back in his own room. He was aware of someone sitting beside him and turned his head slowly trying to focus on the figure. Cirdan smiled kindly and stroked his head.

"I am sorry that I was unable to protect you." The Mariner said softly.

"You were in time." Elrond said simply, though speaking pained him. He had never dreamed to gain one who would care for him so deeply, who would want to be his guardian. "It was not your fault." Elrond heard a soft whisper and someone handed Cirdan a cup. "I was not skilled enough."

"You fought bravely and well," Cirdan said steadily. "None could ask more of you." The youth closed his eyes in an effort to hide his pain.

"I have a herb brew to help control the pain and promote healing. Noenri's orders." Cirdan slowly spooned the mixture into Elrond's mouth,watching the boy's reactions. "He agreed to allow you to stay in your own room as long as I gave my word that you would not try to sit up for a few days."

"I did not know him." Elrond whispered.

"He is in custody. He will not harm you again." Cirdan said soothingly.

"He poisoned me."

"I know."

"He hates me because I am a peredhel." Elrond choked out. His eyes flashed. Cirdan nodded sadly.

"You have many who know and love you, Elrond. We love you unconditionally." Cirdan said, gently wiping the young elf's heated brow with a cool cloth.

"Please stay." Pleaded the voice, suddenly so young.

"Sleep and heal, young one. I will watch over you." Cirdan watched the silver eyes dim. They were eyes that had already beheld far too much. He stroked the dark head as the lines of pain faded from the pale features, and the silver eyes closed in peace. Cirdan was not looking forward to informing Ereinion about the incident. Nor would he soon forget that horrible hour of waiting for news from Noenri. Galadriel had come to aid the healer, and she brought out news that Elrond was stable and would fully recover. As was the custom, Ereinion and Indiriel had been sequestered for the day following their wedding. The royal couple was not due to emerge for further celebrations until this evening. Galadriel and Celeborn had decided to withhold information about the incident until the three-day royal celebration was past. They had gone to this evening's reception so as not to arouse suspicion. It was late when they returned to check on Elrond.

"How is he?" Galadriel asked, seeing the pensive look on Cirdan's face.

"He woke briefly and was in pain," Cirdan noted. "Ereinion and the Avari King both wish us to win him for the elves. They foresee his twin choosing another path."

"What do you wish?" The Lady questioned.

Cirdan sighed. "I wish that both of Eärendil's sons will find some measure of happiness in this world no matter to which kindred they choose to cling. To our shame, the Edain appear to be more accepting of differences than we Elves. I wish that Elrond will choose to remain with us, but I perceive that choice will mean that he will endure intolerance and much sorrow as a lone peredhel among bigoted Elves." He wiped Elrond's brow again with the cool cloth.

"You will not be able to protect him," Celeborn observed. They all fell silent.

"No, apparently even the palace grounds are not safe. We should have him train more seriously, perhaps with the novices. He will make friends and allies there and quickly develop and strengthen."

"It will not be enough for him to be merely good. To survive, he must be exceptional." Celeborn said tiredly, rubbing his temples. He had loved his King Elu Thingol and Queen Melian. It pained him to know that the last of their line was in jeopardy from other Elves.

Xxxxxxx

Maedhros cut with his sword to the left but Elrond spun in rhythm to meet it. He was stronger now and started to switch from a defensive mode to attack positions. The jeers of the Feanorians halted. He burned with a desire to defeat this nemesis of his youth to surpass him in strength, knowledge and strategy. He pounced forward his strokes flowing and powerful.

"Elrond!" Someone called insistently. "Elrond, wake up."

He opened his eyes. They flashed with the controlled anger of a warrior in battle. Erienion, Cirdan, and Celeborn all recognized that look. The glint dissipated as Elrond adjusted to his surroundings. This youth clearly had a strong will and a fighting spirit.

"Ereinion?" Elrond blinked, his eyes slowly focusing.

"It is good to see you awake." The High King answered. He and Cirdan eased Elrond to a sitting position. The King took time to assess Elrond's condition. "Noenri tells me that you are healing well. He should be able to remove the stitches in a few days."

Elrond watched Ereinion silently. The King's eyes were masked, but he could perceive worry and anger. He hoped that he had not disappointed him.

Ereinion stood perplexed momentarily, trying to discern what the young one was feeling. He felt terrible that even t he palace grounds had not proved safe enough.

"What happened Elrond?"

"I would have fared better if I had not been cornered in the weapons room." Elrond said quietly. Then he began to tell the tale of how the trees had warned him of the danger and his decision to head for the training grounds.

"The trees warned you?" Ereinion reiterated, watching Elrond intently. The boy's eyes revealed the truth of his words.

"Yes," Elrond repeated, oblivious to the look of approval that passed between Celeborn and Cirdan, who both delighted in hearing this confirmation of his Sindar heritage.

Elrond told of discovering the training area deserted, his dash for the weapons room, and the ensuing struggle with the dark elf. Then his voice trailed off. "I would not have survived but for your timely arrival." He admitted softly.

"Warriors often depend on others in an attack." Celeborn reminded him. "There is no shame or debt in that."

"You were resourceful and brave. The elf who attacked you was a seasoned warrior, who survived the destruction of Doriath." Ereinion said.

"I have sparred with him and am well aware of his skill." Celeborn said. "His dishonorable deeds horrify me."

"I should train more seriously as a warrior." Elrond said.

"You should focus on recovering." Ereinion said deliberately. "Then spend time with Lady Galadriel. She will train you in the ways of Melian, your ancestress. When you are well, we can readdress your training schedule."

Ereinion paused to give Elrond time to digest all these instructions. Then he squeezed Elrond's hand in support. "I am truly sorry that you had to go through all this."

Xxxxxxxx

Erestor was working on an assignment in the library for Councilor Merwen when he paused and glanced out the window. A white cat stealthily crept across the garden towards the live oak tree. A slight figure topped with black hair was almost obscured by the dark trunk of the tree. The figure shook slightly when the cat pounced.

Erestor smiled, put aside his work, and walked out to meet his friend.

"Elrond," he called softly, wanting to warn his friend of his approach. He moved behind the oak and sat down next to Elrond, who was slowly stroking the cat with trembling hands.

"Elrond, it is good to see you!" Erestor happily declared. "I was worried for you. There have been so many rumors." Elrond looked up. His eyes were oddly vacant. He appeared drained and tired.

"Erestor," he greeted in a quiet voice. "I have a break from lessons with Lady Galadriel."

"It would seem that lessons with Merwen are much preferable." Erestor eyed him carefully, smiling slightly. "I've met the Lady several times on Balar. Her eyes seem to pierce right through me."

"On Balar?" Elrond asked tiredly.

"My family moved there for safety when I was young. You should come to visit Balar with me next time I go home. It is quite beautiful. My Mother loves to have company, and I know she would like you immediately."

"Go home?" Elrond repeated, still sounding dazed. "Where do you live here in Mithlond?"

"Oh, I earned a position to study here at the palace. They are very sought-after spots, and housing is provided. I live within the palace grounds just behind the house of healing." Seeing Elrond's interest, Erestor described his move to Mithlond and his current living space. Erestor was happy to see his friend relax, though he could still perceive the slightest trembling in his hands.

"You know, my Mother sent a tin of honey cookies. Come, let's go enjoy some with tea. I could use a bit of a break myself."

"Thanks, Erestor." Elrond said gratefully. "That sounds nice," Elrond awhispered a thank you to Selig. The cat purred, slowly stretched, and meandered away. Erestor pulled Elrond to his feet and proceeded to lead him towards the dormitory. He knew that Elrond would enjoy hearing stories about life on Balar.

"So, have you ever been fishing?" Erestor asked.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

The summer had passed thankfully with no open warfare, though orc and wolf sightings had increased. There were two small skirmishes outside one of the outer settlements of Beleriand. The High King had decreed that all Elves, no matter what their trade or gender, should be trained in the use of weapons. There was no guarantee that the war would not come to Mithlond itself, and the King wanted all his subjects to be able to defend themselves. This, of course, meant that the healers experienced a dramatic increase in treating minor injuries. Noenri had been busy training healers, gathering surgical equipment, and stocking battlefield healing kits for the war that was inevitably coming. Elves of all heritages and Edain from the three houses of Men were equally worried. Refuges kept flooding the many settlements in Beleriand, including in Mithlond, as Morgoth forces drove them from their homes in the outer forests. No one knew when the host of Morgoth would descend on Beleriand's vast coastal plains or if Eärendil had successfully beseeched the Valar for aid. Noenri momentarily sat down at his desk and peered out the window towards the herb garden. Silsilalda and Elrond were tending and gathering medicinal plants. The young elf, he reflected, looked truly healthy now. Elrond's hair was shiny, and he had a healthy glow. While still thin, one could no longer see the outline of the elf's bones, rather his arms sported the defined muscles of a warrior. Noenri was sure Elrond had grown over three inches in the past six months. It was an incredible growth spurt for an elf, and Noenri could not help but wonder how tall his twin was. Elrond spent much of his free time learning the healing arts. Noenri found that the boy's enthusiasm was contagious. Most of his junior healers looked forward to the young elf's evening visits. Noenri found himself venturing outside to check on the herb gathering. He noted with satisfaction that the two had already gathered the rhizomes of the Barberry bushes, an extract of which had strong antiseptic properties.

"Master Noenri." Elrond and Silsil greeted him. Elrond was harvesting Marigold flowers while Silsi gathered willow leaves to make a powder to control fever.

"Good afternoon." He returned. "Elrond, I have heard that you are going to Balar tomorrow. Can you deliver some letters for me to the healers there?"

"Of course, Master Noenri." Elrond agreed.

"They will be sending back salves and other healing supplies." Noenri paused. "Will you be helping to make the antiseptic salve this evening?"

"Yes, I still have some time." Elrond nodded enthusiastically.

"Come by once you are done and pick up the letters." Noenri smiled. "Enjoy your trip to Balar. It is quite beautiful."

Xxxxxxx Balar xxxxxxxX

Elrond sat on the beach softly playing his harp. It was dusk. The painted sky was fading to a dark navy. They enjoyed a picnic on the beach and watched the sunset. This week with Erestor and his family on Balar had been wonderfully restful and rejuvenating. Erestor's Naneth treated Elrond like one of the family. By appearances, she was a slender elf with beautiful dark hair, yet she was feisty and had a wicked sense of humor, which was inherited by Erestor. Only in this relaxed setting did Elrond glimpse this side of his new friend. Erestor's younger sister had not yet reached her majority. She was initially shy, but her curiosity was boundless. She had only ever been around elves before. Elrond, as a peredhel, was exotic. She had already embarrassed him by inspecting the points and curves of his ears. She endlessly begged him for stories of men and dwarves. Elrond was delighted to comply, describing the dwarven City with unusual flare and telling stories about his friend Thainren that kept them in stitches with laughter.

"How long do dwarves live?" She asked curiously.

"Several hundred years, I believe," Elrond replied. "How about men? "Less than a hundred." Erestor supplied.

"That seems far too short." She lamented.

"Yes, it does in a way." Elrond said thoughtfully. "But I am only twenty-three, and I can't imagine what it would be like to reach one hundred. How does it feel to be so old Erestor?" He joked. Erestor gave Elrond a playful shove, causing him to spill his watered wine.

"Well elfling, it appears you are not old enough to drink."

"In your twenties only. You are but a baby!" Calimdriel exclaimed, crossing nearer to pat him on the head. She was delighted at the notion of being older than someone. "Thainren called you an elfling too! He is but a few years older than me. Can I meet him?"

"Thainren is young for his kind but has loved to tease me since I was even younger. He and the dwarven stoneworkers will return to Mithlond in the fall to continue work on the palace. You should come to meet them." Calimdriel's eyes lit up at the prospect, and she sent pleading looks towards her Mother.

"Thank you for the invitation, Lord Elrond." Her Naneth smiled. "Perhaps I have kept my daughter too sheltered here on Balar. Her curiosity grows exponentially."

"Lord?" Calimdriel quipped. "I thought one had to reach their majority before claiming that title. So elfling, when is your begetting day?" Elrond shrugged enigmatically and pointedly ignored the question.

"Now let's not go insulting guest elf Lords." Erestor chided.

"Naneth promises we will have a party once I reach my majority. You must come too, Elrond!"

"Yes, Elrond, if I survive Calimdriel reaching her majority." Her Mother paused in exasperation. "You must help me celebrate."

"When do peredhil reach their majority?" Calimdriel laughed.

"I don't know. But Cirdan said my parents married when they were in their thirties." Elrond reflected. "Elros thinks that we are already full-grown. He was already chosen to be a leader in his town and is evacuating the people to Baath."

"I beg to disagree with your brother. Perhaps he has reached his full height, but you, Elrond, are definitely still growing!" Erestor declared. "You were noticeably shorter than me when you arrived in Mithlond nine months ago, and now we are nearly equal in height."

"You are still a few inches taller." Elrond shook his head.

"Something to aim for." Erestor cheekily replied.

"Your brother has chosen to live among the Edain?" Calimdriel asked in astonishment. "You must miss him! I miss Erestor terribly when he is off in Mithlond." Elrond's eyes displayed how deeply he missed his twin.

"Elros stays with remnants of the house of Bëor and some descendants of the house of Hador. They are good and honorable people. In many ways, I think they are similar to Elves and even speak Sindarin. Men reach their majority at twenty. " Elrond said.

"I have not yet met any men," Erestor said. "Usually, the kindred keep their separate ways. Mithlond is the exception."

"It is true that men and dwarves have shorter lifespans, but just because they are different does not mean we can't forge friendships," Elrond said. "We do not shun the butterfly even if its life is short. I believe that Ilúvatar loves all his children, firstborn and after-comers.

"I met Beren, your ancestor in Doriath." Erestor's Naneth supplied. "A more honorable man you could not hope to meet. I also enjoyed meeting your father, Elrond. You look much like him."

"But did not Eru make separate places for the kindreds?" Calimdriel asked. "Supposedly, he did. But then where do half-elves fit? It would be awfully lonely if we had a place to ourselves as there have only been a handful of peredhil."

"But you are an elf!" Calimdriel stated firmly. "Surely, you belong with the elves." Elrond gave her a genuine smile.

"I'm glad you think so. The Fëanorians thought differently." Elrond said simply, although Erestor could see him struggling with his emotions. "The Feanorians thought that even among elves their clan was better. My watered-down Noldo blood was unacceptable." He glossed over Maedhros' other prejudices.

"We can not know what Ilúvatar's plan is, but I think that all of his creatures contribute to the music of Arda." Elrond paused. "My life wouldn't be as enriched if I hadn't come to Mithlond and learned that not all elves are like the Feanorians or if I hadn't had the pleasure to travel with the dwarves or to live in the Edain village. I hope someday to meet ents and entwives and green elves. Maybe I will travel and seek out adventures in the vast forests where the wood elves roam or seek the wild horses on the Great Plains." Elrond's eyes burned with the desire.

"Ents and entwives!" This time, it was Erestor's interest that was peaked. "Now there are some of Eru's creations I long to encounter." After much laughter, the four cleaned up the remains from their picnic and headed back to the family cottage. One more glorious week remained before they had to return to work and training in Mithlond. Elrond intended to make the most of it. Erestor planned to teach him how to fish tomorrow.

Xxxxxx One week later xxxxxxX

Erestor and Elrond walked through the town to the port to meet Cirdan. They were burdened with packages and their own small travel bags. Elrond had stopped at the house of healing to retrieve some supplies. Apparently, the healers had already sent boxes of salves, bandages, and herbs to be loaded on the ship, but they had some last-minute additions, which they entrusted to the pair of young elves.

"Elrond!" Cirdan waved them over. "Erestor! Welcome back. Did you have a good visit?" Both Elves smiled in answer. He could see they were both happy and relaxed and was glad that they had escaped the worries and fears that plagued elves, if only for a short while. Upon their return to Mithlond, Elrond would be thrust into a more prominent role. Ereinion had decided to take advantage of Elrond's heritage and bring the young elf along as they appealed to the human and elven settlements in Beleriand to each establish their own regiments, which might fight if necessary under the High King's command. Advanced scouts were already trying to locate and count Morgoth's forces. If the worst should come, the Elves of Beleriand would need as many allies as they could find. The elves were barred from Valinor. So there could be no retreat from Mithlond. Once all the healing supplies were loaded and the other passengers had boarded. Cirdan gave the signal to sail. He walked over to the bow of the boat where Erestor and Elrond were standing, watching their departure. Erestor turned to greet him, but Elrond stood still, his eyes fixed on Balar.

"Elrond should not become a fisherman." Erestor joked. "I do not think he has the temperament for it." Cirdan laughed.

"There must be quite a story behind that." Cirdan looked at Elrond, whose fists, now white, clenched the rail in quiet desperation.

"Elrond?" He walked over to him. Elrond's face was white with fear. His eyes were dilated and unfocused.

"Elrond!" He touched the youth's face. It was strangely cold. He shook the elf and gently rubbed at his shoulders. "Elrond, if it is a vision, let it go." He said in a loud, commanding voice. The youth shook violently and then proceeded to vomit over the side of the boat. Cirdan held him, and Erestor hurried to bring some water and towels. Elrond's gasps slowly subsided. Erestor had returned and handed him a towel while Cirdan maneuvered the youth into his cabin. He gave the boy some water, which Elrond thankfully drank.

"Balar," Stuttered the young elf. "Balar will be lost under a great wave." He shook violently at the memory of the vision, the screams of the dying elves echoed in his mind.

"Could you tell when?" Cirdan asked gently. He knew that Ereinion had similar premonitions. But visions were no guide to actions. "Was it soon?"

"I can not be sure, though the guards wore the same style of uniforms as now." He closed his eyes and focused on the vision again.

"A huge wall of water, maybe six times my height, swept over the island, surprising its inhabitants." Elrond saw houses smashed, trees pulled up by their roots, bodies floated by, as well as … decorations. All were pulled silently back out into the depths of the sea. "Midwinter. It was near the midwinter festival. There is no way of knowing if it is this year. But Balar will eventually be destroyed." He shivered again. The Mariner handed him a small glass.

"Drink this." He ordered. "Let the vision fade. Remember, it may or may not come to pass. We can take precautions. We can prepare Balar and station a ship out at sea to detect such a disturbance and give the people time to prepare." Elrond obeyed and drank. Slowly, the shaking subsided, and he slid into an uneasy sleep. The Mariner watched him in silence. He had already given the same comfort to another elf who had the same vision. Then Cirdan turned to a white-faced Erestor.

"He is gifted with foresight?" Erestor asked incredulously.

"Gifted or cursed with foresight, yes. It is not easy to endure." Cirdan said.

"Should we return to Balar?" Erestor asked. He was obviously worried about his family.

"Elrond was sure it was midwinter. We will talk with the High King. We have some time. I would not create a panic." Upon their arrival at the Havens, Erestor and Elrond helped move the healing supplies up to Mithlond and into the palace house of healing. The sun was already halfway across the sky when Elrond returned to his room to drop off his bag and take a quick bath. He was just pulling on fresh clothes when he heard a knock.

"Come in." He said, buttoning up his tunic. It was Merwen who entered. "Good to see you back, Elrond. King Gil-Galad requests that you join the council this afternoon."

"Council?" Elrond said in surprise. Merwen nodded and smiled.

"Do not worry. Officially, you will be introduced to the council as my apprentice. It is your experience with the Edain and your heritage that the King believes will aid us in establishing stronger ties with our allies." Merwen explained. "Come, the council already convenes. We should not be too late in arriving." Elrond instinctively reached to braid his hair, but Merwen stopped him. "Leave it unbraided as a sign of your youth." He pulled the young elf out of the room, and they headed towards the council room.

"Remember the rules of order that we discussed," Merwen said quickly. "It would also be wise to only speak when you are addressed directly. Use this time to gather information and to learn how the council members interact." They turned the corner and walked into the elegant reception room where Elrond had first met Ereinion. This time, almost all the chairs surrounding the large conference table were occupied by elves dressed in regal court attire. Elrond, in comparison, felt incredibly underdressed. At the head of the table sat King Gil-Galad wearing his robes of state and his mithril crown.

"Pardon our late arrival, my Lord." Merwin bowed, and Elrond followed suit. "I request permission for my apprentice Elrond Eärendilion to enter." He motioned for Elrond to step forward. Elrond bowed and perfectly recited the promise in Quenyan to serve his King with loyalty.

"Thank you Eärendilion." Gil-Galad said this and then turned to the rest of the council. "Are there any objections to Eärendil's son serving Merwen and this council?" he asked.

"How old are you Eärendilion?" One of the councilors asked.

"I am twenty-three, my Lord." Elrond politely answered.

"Have you even reached your majority?" The same councilor asked rhetorically.

"I do not know the age at which a peredhel reaches their majority," Elrond answered truthfully. "My twin Elros is considered an adult by the Edain and already has taken up a leadership position." Elrond fell silent, remembering Merwen's advice, and stepped back into his Mentor's shadow. Gil-Galad motioned for them to sit as the discussion over Elrond's fitness for duty continued. Merwen and his apprentice took the empty two chairs on the table's far side. Elrond spent the next two hours listening to the council's reports and debates. He was never addressed directly so he simply observed the council's dynamics and learned much about the challenges Mithlond was facing. The maps of Morgoth's forces and updates on the refugee situation were disturbing. The free peoples of Middle Earth were at a grave disadvantage. Only now could Elrond fully appreciate why his Adar had risked so much to sail to the Valar. The loose alliance of free people could not hope to stand long against the mighty forces that Morgoth was now assembling. Towards the end of the council session, Lord Cirdan entered. He gave Elrond an appraising look and casually sat in the empty chair beside Ereinion. Soon afterward, the King closed the council session and officially dismissed its members.

"Merwen," The King said quietly. "Please remain here for a moment." The King and Merwen exchanged glances, and Merwen motioned for Elrond to remain as well. Soon, only the four of them remained at the table.

"Ereinion," Cirdan broke the silence. The mariner was not one to mince words. "Elrond had a vision portending the destruction of Balar." Both Ereinion and Merwen turned to Elrond with shocked eyes. Elrond related his vision with as much detail as he could recall.

"Midwinter." The King repeated. "I have had similar dreams about Balar but never caught that detail."

"It may be possible to station a ship far enough from Balar so that it could spot the danger and perhaps signal Balar."

"How would such a wave look like in the open water?" Ereinion responded. Cirdan considered this question carefully.

"I think in the open water, the ship would rise and fall more gently over the wave, but the depth would change dramatically as it enters shallow water." Cirdan said.

"There would have to be a way of measuring the water level for comparison. I do not know if it is even possible." Elrond said softly. Ereinion considered this for a moment.

"We can not be certain that it is coming this midwinter. But two of us have been gifted similar visions. I would not risk the lives of those on Balar." The King paused. "How many currently reside there?"

"Approximately ten thousand elves," Merwen informed him.

"Evacuation of such large numbers would take some time," Cirdan said.

"You are currently building more ships. Can you estimate how many ships would be required for such an evacuation? Also, is there any way to gauge how long such an evacuation would take?" He appointed Cirdan to this task.

"Elrond, can you and Erestor investigate methods for measuring the height or depth of the sea?" Elrond nodded in acceptance of this assignment.

"Would it be even feasible to set up a system to warn Balar? To give the people time to flee?"

"Merwen, please study the feasibility of housing the refugees from Balar in and around Mithlond and the Havens. How might we lure people from the Isle without causing widespread panic?" Ereinion sighed. "Unfortunately, the coming days are bound to get darker." They all rose, recognizing the dismissal. Merwin bowed and departed, as did Elrond, who walked slowly towards the family wing. A voice from behind made him turn.

"Elfling!" The King called. "Come to dinner, you must tell Indiriel and I about your trip to Balar." The young elf smiled. "It would be my pleasure." Elrond said. Then Ereinion, Cirdan and Elrond walked off together.

Chapter 12: Ambush

Chapter Text

Cirdan, Merwen and Gil-Galad sat in the council room discussing strategy. They had agreed that the King would travel to the surrounding settlements to reinforce their ties and increase support for a joint defensive force.

"I think all of my elite guard should accompany us." Ereinion said slowly. "We will only go to settlements that have not observed any nearby Orc activity as the Queen will accompany us."

"She will undoubtedly help garner support and sway public opinion." Cirdan said approvingly. "You plan to take Elrond as well."

"The youth?" Merwen said. "Is that wise? Can he defend himself if you stumbled upon enemies?"

"Elrond, though a novice in warfare, already has battle experience. His ties to the edain and his twin will also be very helpful." Gil-Galad revealed slowly. "He is young but has already withstood a number of trials. I anticipate no confrontations, or I would not risk Indiriel accompanying us."

"Still," Merwen said. "I think your guards and the council should be kept in the dark about your travels' exact route and timing. Waylaying the royal couple would be a valuable prize."

"Yes, that is wise. Only the council will be informed of our plans. Even my guards will not be told until the morning of our departure." Gil-Galad agreed.

"Elrond may not agree, but I would urge him to dress as one of the edain if he accompanies you into negotiations. It will put the men at ease. They will recognize him as they have had many dealings already with his brother Elros."

"Any progress on emergency preparations for Balar?" Gil-Galad asked.

"The fall approaches too quickly for anything to be ready this year," Cirdan said. "I think it would be best to lure as many citizens off Balar as possible. Elrond and Erestor had several suggestions, including a special festival or drafting some of the inhabitants to aid in shipbuilding or with stock-piling healing supplies."

"That is wise. The construction of ships would be markedly faster given extra workers. Get the help of the council while we are away."

Xxxxxx

"Elrond, we are going to visit settlements in Beleriand. Would you like to join us?" Gil-Galad said at breakfast.

Elrond nodded enthusiastically. "It would be my pleasure."

"I will mostly be there in an official capacity. But Indiriel will have a more leisurely schedule. Pack your bags now, though we may not depart for several weeks yet."

"I would enjoy showing you around, Elrond." Indiriel invited in her lyrical voice.

"Depending on the timing and safety issues, we may also visit a few Edain villages in those areas. They have been good allies and have often fought under my command." Gil-Galad noted. Many smaller towns and villages surrounded the Bay of Balar. The King's armies had difficulty securing such a large area. Some edain had also settled in that area as well, establishing a series of towns near the coast. "One of the towns we may potentially visit is Baath, although I urge you not to let your brother know that we might come. For safety reasons, only part of the council knows our agenda."

"I understand, my Lord." Elrond nodded in agreement.

"I would like to meet your brother!" Indiriel exclaimed. The elfling's eyes glowed in anticipation.

One morning about a week later, Ereinion called on Elrond before dawn.

"Elfling, wake up." Elrond could tell even in the dark that Ereinion was smiling. "Today is the day. We leave in an hour." Elrond scrambled out of bed and quickly washed and dressed. Ten minutes later, Laeste intercepted him as he tried to dash out of the family wing.

"Elrond, come I made you breakfast. You want to be at full strength for your trip." Elrond sighed deeply when Laeste playfully tugged on one of his braids. Once he had eaten enough to satisfy Laeste, he rose to leave.

"Namarie, Laeste." But to his surprise, the nurse stopped him and handed him a small woven pouch.

"For you, Elrond. I filled it with lembas. They could keep you sated for many weeks if necessary."

"Thank you," Elrond whispered. To his surprise, a lump had formed in his throat, and his eyes burned slightly.

"Come back safely, child. May Elbereth guide you and keep you safe until you return to me." She gave him a hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek. Then she helped him slip on the heavy leather jerkin and pack the lembas in his travel bag. Elrond quickly headed to the training grounds to get a sword and bow. Cirulian, the guard assigned to Elrond for this journey, met him at the weapons room. The guard had already chosen a bow for him and handed him a quiver filled with arrows.

"The King has your sword. We should make haste and meet the others at the stables." Cirulian set a swift pace. Elrond had to jog to keep up. Elrond could see that most of the King's elite guards were assembled. Indiriel wore a leather jerkin like Elrond's, and her hair was braided to match the other warriors. From a distance, there was nothing to give away her status save for her smaller stature. One of the guards quickly walked to meet Elrond. It was not until he spoke that Elrond realized it was Ereinion.

"Elrond, I have been waiting to give this to you. Now seems like the right time." Ereinion drew a beautifully crafted sword from a leather sheath. "The blade is named Hadhafang (throng-cleaver). It was your father's sword. May it serve you well." Elrond was speechless as he took the sword and studied the flowing script and the blade's gentle curvature. Ereinion helped Elrond belt its holder around his waist.

"We should depart, Sire, to have a chance to reach the first settlement by nightfall." His Seneschal directed.

Ereinion nodded briefly, and then the party departed. Indiriel rode at the center next to her husband. Elrond and Cirulian stayed at the rear. The low-lying lands of Beleriand outside of the city of Mithlond were a mix of salt marshes and stately forests with long swaths of live oaks and beech trees. They rode mostly in silence, with only soft whispers breaking their reverie from time to time. The soothing songs of the forest and the birds brightened the ride. The silence was for safety, as they did not want to risk confrontation given that their rulers also traveled.

Elrond had studied the maps of Beleriand, memorizing the lay of the Sirion River and its many tributaries recognized that they were following the Sirion River northward and three settlements sprang to mind. Which, he puzzled, was this evening's destination? In excellent conditions, a horse could cover about 50 miles in a day. Surely, they were not maintaining a pace to cover that distance, so perhaps it could only be 30 to 40 miles away. The trees startled him from his reverie. He instinctively drew his sword. Cirulian stared at him in surprise and instinctively drew his own blade. The King's signal came moments later. Other blades were silently drawn and bows readied. Ereinion also recognized the tree's warnings. Moments later, their enemy descended in what could have only been a planned ambush.

Rage pulsed through Elrond. He would not fail his newly found family. His sword rang out with deadly precision, cutting down orc after orc and dodging the errant arrow. Both Cirulian and Elrond could see that most of the enemy arrows were concentrated on the center of the elven formation. Their foes knew that the King was among them.

"Cover me!" Cirulian ordered as he switched to his bow and took aim at the archers in the tree. Elrond and another guard protected Cirulian from the orcs at hand while he focused on the assassins in the trees. Small groups of guards were using similar strategies. The wounded were being protected in a shielded spot to the left that had been cleared of archers.

Xxxxxx

Elrond walked towards his King, who was leaning over a prone figure. King Gil-Galad was surrounded by four of his elite guards. Ereinion, well trained in the healing arts, assessed Indiriel's wound with shaking hands. One of the guards had brought healing supplies and boiled water to cleanse the wound. Indiriel was deathly pale and was bleeding profusely from the arrow wound to just above her right breast below the shoulder.

"A moment, my Lord." Elrond, whose sword and clothes were stained with dark blood. The youth quickly washed his hands and moved to sit beside Indiriel. Elrond laid his hands on her forehead and closed his eyes in concentration. Under his touch, Indiriel settled, the pain leaving her features as her eyes closed. The stunned King looked on.

"Now, my Lord."

Ereinion worked quickly, removing the arrowhead and cleansing the wound. Thankfully, there was no sign of poison, but the wound was deep and his beloved had lost a frightening amount of blood. Tears ran down Ereinion's face as he whispered encouragement to his love. At the same time, he tried desperately to stop the bleeding and close the wound. Again, Elrond's voice broke through his thoughts.

"I can help." His young charge whispered, gently moving the King aside and laying his hands over the wound. Ereinion watched in amazement as a golden glow flowed from Elrond's hands, passing into Indiriel. Minutes passed in silence as Elrond's breathing grew fainter and the wound beneath his fingertips closed. The tissue and blood vessels slowly knit together under Elrond's guidance. The golden glow grew brighter, and Indiriel's color improved, her breathing steadily stronger.

"You have the healing gifts of Melian," Ereinion whispered in astonishment, relief flowing through him as he saw his beloved wife, being steadily called back from the brink of death. The bleeding slowed and then stopped. He looked up at Elrond, whose skin was now ashen. His eyes were still closed in concentration. He had never heard of Elrond healing someone. Well, now that he thought of it, perhaps that dwarf, Thainren had mentioned something. The power of a true healer was a rare gift and required training and guidance to control and use safely. Ereinion was suddenly filled with worry for the youth. He could not allow this boy to trade his life for Indiriel's.

"How did I gain the Peredhel's loyalty and allegiance?" Ereinion thought. "Surely, I do not deserve such a sacrifice. I did not protected him at Sirion."

"Elrond," He called gently while firmly grasping Elrond's shoulder. "Elrond, you have healed her. It is done. Come back to me." The color continued to drain out of Elrond. It was clear that the youth could not control it. "Elrond!" He called more forcefully, placing his hands over Elrond's. "Come back to us!" Elrond slumped forward as the connection to Indiriel was severed. Ereinion caught him and eased him gently to a sitting position, leaning against the neighboring tree trunk. Then, he quickly tended his beloved's wound, spreading salve and binding it. He turned again to Elrond, a ghost-white statue with closed eyes. He tried to steady his shaking hands as he reached to feel for Elrond's pulse. It was slow and irregular beneath his fingers. He silently prayed to Elbereth to sustain these two lives that were so dear to him.

"Ereinion," Elrond whispered. His breath came in uneven gasps, and his eyes were closed in exhaustion. "Is Baath far? I can call on Elros."

"It is too far. The Elven settlement is closer." Ereinion answered, stroking the dark head, though he mentally noted the possibility. "Rest Elrond."

"My King." His Seneschal addressed him. He paled at the amount of blood that surrounded the Queen. Surely, no one could survive that. "Our Lady?"

"She is weak but lives." Ereinion paused. "We should move to safety quickly." He stood and surveyed the area. They were surrounded by nearly twenty of his best guards. The orc corpses had already been piled in preparation for burning.

"They were expecting us." His Seneschal observed. "We have a spy in our midst either here or within the council or palace. Who knew in advance about our departure?"

"Not here." Ereinion hissed. "We shall discuss this later. The settlement is but an hour's ride. We will head there."

Cirulian approached to update his captain and the King. "We have dispatched the orcs, and scouts are checking the vicinity. The wounded are being cared for." He pointed towards where they had set up a makeshift treatment center. "We do not want to risk burning them until you and the Queen are away from here."

"The young one fought like a seasoned warrior. He dispatched some orcs himself. Is he well?" Cirulian whispered in concern.

"He has the gift of healing and gave much of himself to aid the Queen." The King admitted in a low voice, much to Cirulian's surprise. "If it were not for him, she would be dead. Construct a litter to carry her. We should transport her and the other wounded to safety immediately." Cirulian nodded and left to carry out his King's orders. Ereinion remained close to his wife, watching over her and his young charge. His heart quaked with fear at the thought that he had almost lost his beloved. Nearly an hour had passed when his guards returned with a litter and carefully transferred Indiriel. Elrond stirred, opening his eyes and taking in the scene before him.

"The Queen?" Elrond's soft voice trembled slightly with fear. Ereinion turned when he heard him, kneeling beside him and taking his hand in comfort.

"She is weak but alive, thanks to you, Elrond." The King scrutinized him. "Can you ride? We will try to reach the settlement quickly."

"Yes. I can ride." Elrond slurred, but he was unable to stand unaided. Cirulian steadied him, bearing most of the elf's weight. He noted Elrond's extreme weariness and his weak, erratic pulse.

"Elrond, ride with me." Cirulian requested. The warrior bent and lifted the youth. "We should make haste. You fought admirably, young one." He eased the semi-conscious elf onto his horse and then mounted behind him.

Xxxxxx

The next thing Elrond could recall was waking up in a strange bed. His vision was blurred. The room swam before his eyes.

"Elrond," Cirulian called and lifted Elrond's head slightly to bring a cup of healing draught to the parched lips. "The King will be heartened when he hears you are awake." Elrond slowly drank the draught. Then Cirulian helped him to sit up. The room spun. Elrond closed his eyes until his head cleared.

"Elfling, you never do anything halfway, do you?" Cirulian teased. He handed Elrond a lemba. "Eat this." He directed, lifting Elrond's hand towards his mouth and coaxing him to take a bite. He waited until Elrond had finished half of the waybread. It was still amazing to him that this brave elfling, not yet a warrior, had jeopardized his own life to save the Queen. The last week had been tense as they waited for the young one to regain consciousness.

"I will send a message to the King that you are awake." With that Cirulian left the room momentarily. When he returned, he found Elrond had not moved or eaten.

"Finish the lemba Elrond." He ordered. Elrond slowly complied, enjoying the energy that seemed to pulse through him after each bite.

"The King is coming soon. Do you want to change into a tunic?" Elrond looked down, only now realizing he wore a simple white sleep shirt.

"Yes, thank you."

Cirulian helped him change and led him from the room into a small adjoining kitchen. He was happy that the elfling was remarkably steady on his feet. They sat down at the round wooden table, and the guard pushed a bowl of fruit in Elrond's direction.

"Queen Indiriel?" Elrond asked in a dazed and fearful voice. His last memory was of her blood spilling out onto his hands as he struggled to direct healing thoughts towards her.

"She is well, Elrond," Cirulian reassured him. "The King wants to update you himself. You are starting to regain some color. Try eating some fruit. I think you are light-headed due to lack of nourishment." Elrond nibbled on some ripe strawberries. Their sweetness brought a smile to his lips. He saw Cirulian stand and bow.

"I see that we have discovered your favorite fruit, elfling." Ereinion smiled. "Please do not get up Elrond," The King dismissed Cirulian and joined Elrond at the table.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired and a bit.." he paused and frowned, "faint but the food is helping."

Ereinion indulged in a strawberry while he carefully watched Elrond. The boy was already looking much better. Relief spread through the King.

"You healed Indiriel, Elrond. We are forever in your debt." Elrond looked away, embarrassed.

"Anyone would have done as much." He mumbled. Ereinion caught his hand and turned it palm up, half expecting to see something unusual there.

"No, Elrond. You have a special gift for healing. There are only a handful of others with this gift. Queen Melian, as did Lady Galadriel and perhaps the minstrel Maglor, had it. Have you healed anyone else?"

"I have healed some of Elros' minor injuries." He paused. "I helped the healers stabilize Thainren's sister," Elrond recalled.

"After you healed Thainren's sister, how long did you need to recover?" Ereinion asked. The boy looked startled by the question.

"I'm not sure. Thainren said that I was unconscious for two days." Elrond met Ereinion's gaze steadily. "Where is Indiriel? How long have I been out for?"

"Indiriel is alive and well thanks to you. I took her to the Havens and left her in Cirdan's protection. Cirdan located the spy among my council, but the elf had pointed suspicion at you due to your heritage and friendship with the dwarves."

"Not all dwarves are bad, just as not all elves are good." Elrond blurted out, then added in a quiet voice. "I trust Thainren, but I know some dwarves will fight with Morgoth." Ereinion reached over and laid his hand on Elrond's shoulder.

"I know, Elrond," Ereinion said. "Things are rarely black and white. Most are shades of gray. You, however, must be a blessing bestowed on me by the Valar. You, Elrond, I would trust with my life." Elrond felt as if the King could see to the center of his heart. He could feel Ereinion's deep love and gratitude.

"I trust you with my life as well," Elrond confessed. They sat silent for some minutes until Elrond's brow furled in question.

"You went back and forth to Mithlond?"

"Yes," Ereinion confirmed.

"Then how long was I unconscious?"

"Elrond, I am extremely thankful for what you did for Indiriel. But you put yourself at grave risk. Please, promise that you will try to refrain from using your healing gifts until you are older and have received some training." Elrond nodded. "You are very dear to me, young one. Indiriel was close to death when you helped her by sharing your own strength with her. Galadriel said it is a miracle that you are not both now gracing Mandos Hall. You have been unconscious for nearly a week. I left Cirulian and some other guards here to watch over you while we returned to Mithlond to hunt down the spy." He watched as Elrond processed this information.

"If you are well enough to travel tomorrow," Ereinion whispered. "I will make Baath our next destination." Elrond's eyes glowed with happiness at the prospect of seeing his brother.

Chapter 13: Baath

Chapter Text

Ereinion woke Elrond the next morning. The young elf appeared remarkably well considering the events of the past week. They enjoyed breakfast. Then Ereinion helped him pack.

"Elrond, call to your brother and let him know that we will arrive before sunset." Elrond nodded and sat down on the bed. His eyes seemed unfocused as he attempted to call to Elros. His left hand moved over his chest as a brief wave of pain passed over his face. Then his features relaxed into a calm peaceful expression as Elros opened a part of his mind to him. Elrond told them of their plans.

"Safe journey dear brother. I look forward to seeing you and meeting your King." The last part was said in a teasing tone. Elrond drew in a pained breath as their connection was severed. He was surprised to find himself held in a gentle embrace with his head resting on Ereinion's shoulder.

"This twin bond you share with Elros, did it use to be stronger?" Ereinion probed.

"Yes." Came Elrond's strained voice. "In Sirion, we often talked only through our minds. Naneth would scold us and encourage us to speak aloud."

"It changed in Amon Ereb," Ereinion stated.

"I was weak. I could not stand up to the Fëanorians." Self-loathing was evident in his voice.

"Elros rebuked me for it. He told me to be stronger." His voice trailed off.

"You were not weak, Elrond. You were young and faced cruelty that should never be endured by children."

"I was weak," Elrond repeated in a hushed whisper. "I hoped and prayed to Námo for release. Elros found out. He was ashamed of me. He withdrew from our connection. He would not open his bond to me until I learned to be stronger." Ereinion kissed the top of the dark head and wiped the young one's tears with his fingers.

"You survived and gained your freedom. You flourished. Do not hold these moments from your childhood against yourself. You and Elros traveled and settled with the Edain." He felt the elfling's heart swell with happiness at those memories.

"Yes, they accepted us with open arms." He smiled at the prospect of returning to these people.

"I enjoyed learning about their culture, customs, folksongs, and stories. Elros and I began to share some of our thoughts again. He threw himself into their lifestyle. I apprenticed with their healer. I tried to figure out why I was ill. I worried that the Fëanorians were correct that I was the runt, the weak and inferior twin. You will think that when you see the two of us together. Secretly, I think that is what Elros believed."

"Elrond, I have witnessed your bravery, strength, and selflessness. Never, would I think that. Indiriel and I have grown to love you."

"I left because I longed to see the world while I still had the strength. I wanted to find out if the elves left were like those in Amon Ereb or if any of the honorable elves of Sirion remained."

"The difference in stature between you and your brother was caused by years of abuse as well as due to your poisoning." Ereinion reminded him.

"I know that now," Elrond said, though he could not stop the flow of tears. Ereinion held him gently and securely.

"Elros was not happy that I wanted to leave. But in the end, I think he understood just as I accepted his reasons for staying. It is strange; we have only been apart for a year and a half, yet it seems much longer."

"Much has happened in this year. You have been healed and have grown strong both physically and mentally. You have much to share with Elros, including descriptions of Mithlond, Belegost, and Balar. I know that Elros will have much to share with you in return. Come, a joyous reunion awaits you. I am excited to meet your brother as well." He gave Elrond a reassuring hug as the youth collected himself. Then they gathered their things and departed. On this journey, Elrond and Ereinion led the group. The King insisted that his warriors don their chest armor in case of another ambush, but they reached Baath without incident. They halted at the gates surrounding the settlement. The guards perched in a secure station above the gates recognized Elrond.

"It is Elros' brother! Open the gates!" Ereinion grinned. It was not often that the High King was overshadowed by one of his companions. He heard the amused whispers of his guards. They entered a small courtyard and dismounted. Elrond had barely gotten off his steed when he was engulfed by Elros' powerful embrace. His twin stood slightly taller but much broader with a muscular physique that set them apart. If Ereinion had to guess, he would put Elros as fifty pounds heavier than Elrond, and from the look of it, all of those extra pounds were muscle. Elros had shoulder-length, slightly curly hair that framed a face identical to Elrond's.

"Elrond! You are well!" Elros exclaimed, stepping back to take in a full view of his brother. He punched his shoulder. "We are nearly equal in height!" Elrond smiled as his brother pulled him into another hug.

"I feared for you," Elros whispered, though Ereinion's sharp ears caught it. "I swore that I heard Námo call to you last week. I feared."

"I am well, Elros," Elrond reassured him. "Do I not stand before you? Though I admit, I probably should abstain from trying to heal anyone. So do not get injured!"

"A deal, El! Come, we have prepared a celebration for you and your King." Elros laughed. "You need to change into more appropriate attire." Elrond turned. He could see the settlement leaders approaching, probably to officially welcome the High King.

"Elros, I would like you to meet another of our kin. This is Ereinion Gil-Galad, High King of the Elves."

"Elros Eärendilion," the King said in a jolly voice. "It is my pleasure to finally meet you." Elros did not bow before the King but extended his hand in a typical Edain greeting common among warriors of the same rank. If Ereinion was surprised by the lack of respect, he showed no sign. Instead, he grasped Elros' arm, completing the greeting in the style of men, and then drew the peredhel into his arms.

"I am glad to find you well, Elros. We are kin from afar and met when you were very young." He released the young warrior, who stood with a shocked expression. The High King smiled inwardly at having unbalanced this confident youth. "I have already given Elrond a heirloom of your house." He drew out an exquisite ring with a green stone encircled by two entwined snakes.

"This, I think, should come to you. It was your Mother's. It was given to Barahir by the Elven Lord Finrod, symbolizing the friendship between his house and the House of Bëor. Let it also stand for my own promise that I and my house will always aid you and your descendants." Elros quickly recovered his poise and diplomatically accepted the King's gift, placing the heirloom on his finger, much to the approval of the other settlement leaders, who had watched the exchange with awe. Many of the townsfolk were also of the House of Bëor and knew well the ring's story. They stepped forward now and bowed in greeting to the High King, presenting traditional gifts of welcome. Ereinion gestured for the twins to depart. Then he and his Seneschal followed their hosts away from the courtyard.

"Come Elrond!" Elros said excitedly. "We have little time to prepare for tonight's celebration!" He grabbed his brother's pack, and together, they led his horse to the stables nearby. Then Elros brought him to a house in the middle of the settlement.

"I helped to build it." He said proudly, pulling Elrond inside.

"My word, Elrond! You have grown! You look truly healthy!" Beamed Ríanna. She was distantly related to the twins through the house of Bëor. She and her husband had come to care for and sort of adopt the boys into their family upon their arrival from Amon Ereb.

"Yes," Elros added, pulling the armor and tunic off his brother. "but you look like an elf in these clothes!"

"Elros!" Exclaimed Elrond in exasperation. "I do not need to strip in front of others."

"You have nothing we haven't seen, boy." Ríanna laughed. Elrond's cheeks blushed red, and Elros joined in the laughter while pulling Elrond into the bedroom. A basin of water and a towel were perched on a small table.

"I figured you would want to wash the dust from your travels. You were always so fastidious." Elros teased.

"Oooh, a silk undershirt! You are such an elf!" He pulled the shirt over Elrond's head much to his brother's dismay.

"Elros! Can I have some privacy?"

"No, brother. I want to see with my own eyes that you are well." He examined Elrond's arms and wrists for any signs of slash marks and checked his torso and back as well.

"You have actual muscles, El!" He teased and poked at the biceps.

"You must tell me everything that has happened. But first we have to attend the celebration. Wash up and braid your hair like a Man, lest you appear to be some elven child." He pulled out a set of clothes from the drawer. "Ríanna made you these. They are fit for a prince of Men. Wear them tonight."

"Elros, must you be so overbearing!" Elrond said in feigned exasperation.

"At least until you beat me with a sword." He quipped.

"I will best you tomorrow." Elrond challenged. "I have been practicing." Elros was surprised by the feral gleam in his twin's eyes.

"We shall see!"

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

They had prepared a feast for the High King. It was delicious, but Ereinion regretted that he was seated away from Earendil's sons. Elrond was dressed nobly in the clothes of the edain, although his delicate features and long hair were out of place among the mostly bearded men. The brothers sat at a table filled with other edain. Ereinion saw Elros pour yet more beer into Elrond's glass while Elrond was talking to someone else. He also spied Elrond, the older but smaller twin, discretely watering down his drink. The drinking and singing began in earnest after dinner, but Elrond left early, pleading weariness from his journey. Ereinion realized that the elfling must be exhausted. Finally, freed from his diplomatic duties, Ereinion approached Elros. Gil-Galad studied Earendil's other son closely. He could easily be mistaken for one of the edain but for his natural elven grace and glow. He had a proud, regal bearing. Suddenly, Gil-Galad knew that this one was destined to be a King of Men.

"You have won my brother's respect and," Elros added in a lower voice, "love." His eyes betrayed his jealousy. Although even in his slightly inebriated state, he kept it from his voice.

"I do not know if I am deserving of it." The King answered lightly, seeking to reassure Elros.

"You and your brother are very special children of Eru. I am sorry that I could not rescue you from Amon Ereb. You both suffered there, yet you must realize Eru made your hearts to experience love and joy. Your hearts are big enough to cherish many people." He smiled comfortingly at Elros and felt relief when he saw the jealousy disappear from the peredhel's eyes.

"Yes, for too long, our hearts yearned to experience the bonds of friendship and love that were denied us in Amon Ereb."

"I foresee that you and Elrond will both play pivotal roles in the future of Middle Earth. Come with me, Elros. Let us talk somewhere more private." They walked back to Gil-Galad's room in the town's best Inn. The King's personal guard accompanied them, but Ereinion motioned for them to remain by the stairs. They entered the King's room and sat down at the table. Ereinion poured Elros a glass of water.

"I want him to stay with me. He would be safer here among men, who totally accept what he is." Elros said forcefully, taking a gulp of water. His inhibitions were somewhat reduced due to the alcohol he had consumed.

"He is his own person. What are his aspirations and desires?" Ereinion said calmly, hoping to coax Elros into speaking freely with him. Elros sat silently, staring back at him.

"He stands out in Mithlond and even here in Baath. I am not sure if he is safe in either place." Ereinion did not yet want to discuss the more harrowing events of the past year.

"He will choose to stay with me, his twin. I will protect him."

"I can not say what he will choose. He is still growing and learning who he is. He can already protect himself." Ereinion said.

"You can not truly believe that we peredhil will be accepted among Elves! Elves are duplicitous and treacherous. They are kinslayers with no honor!" He spit the words out venomously.

"Some elves are." The High King said slowly and deliberately. "I can not disagree. History reveals their greed and dishonor. You have had the misfortune of experiencing it first-hand. But there are noble, honorable, and generous elves as well. It is no different with any of the other kindred. There are examples of evil dwarves and men andadmirable ones."

"There will always be prejudices against us." Elros returned.

"We elves have done ourselves a disservice by holding ourselves above the other kindred. We thought that we were better than the second-born. You and your ancestors have and are helping to educate us." Ereinion said steadily.

"You can not tell me Elrond would be happier among elves."

"I can not speak for your brother. I truly wish him happiness no matter what his choice."

"Tell me, Oh High King!" Elros said rolling his eyes. "If you had a daughter would you allow her to marry Elrond?"

"If they loved each other, I would be proud to have him as my son-in-law. He has a kind and noble heart." Ereinion said truthfully. "I do love him. Already, he is part of my family. I would like to get to know you too Elros. You are dear to him. You are the one who is closest to his heart. Come back to Mithlond with us. Learn the art of shipbuilding from Cirdan. Come see the court and learn about what it takes to rule a people. I have dreamt that you will become a great King of Men." Ereinion watched the peredhel's expressions soften.

"Thank you for caring for my brother. When he first left, I feared that he would die. He seemed to be wasting away. I see that he is truly recovered now. He is much stronger and has grown significantly. Elrond always tried his best to care for me. I admit that I failed him in Amon Ereb." Elros said with regret.

"I failed you both there." Ereinion lamented. "It grieves me still that I was unable to rescue you and prevent the abuse from happening."

"They treated me well in Amon Ereb, as well as could be expected. Maglor loved us and tried to keep us safe. It was Elrond who suffered. What did he tell you?" Elros asked curiously.

"He said that they decided you would not easily escape if they kept one of you injured." Elros nodded in confirmation and looked down.

"Maedhros chose Elrond from the first moment in Sirion. Elrond pushed me behind him when the Fëanor brothers came for us. He was trying to protect me. In his fury at losing the Silmaril, Maedhros almost choked Elrond to death. Maglor saved him. He loved us and tried to shield us as best as he could. Maedhros repented, too, although he was not always quite sane, having been tortured by Morgoth. But still, there was always one injury after another for Elrond to deal with. With time, even I began to believe the lies of the Fëanorians. I started to believe that Elrond was the weaker of us. I did not want to be one of the contemptible peredhil twins."

"Did you help him through your bond?"

"We were so young then only ten. Feeling my brother's pain was frightening. I learned how to block it quickly. I learned how to stop our connection." Elros whispered the admission. "I reasoned that he somehow deserved to bear it alone. Elrond learned the lesson quickly enough. Within a month, he stopped crying for my help. He was only ten." Elros ended at barely a whisper.

"You were only a child of ten as well, Elros." Ereinion said gently, laying his hand on Elros' broad shoulder. "There are other types of abuse besides the physical. You suffered grievously as well. Talk to your brother. I know that he loves you and holds no grudge against you." There was a long silence. Gil-Galad could see that Elros was contemplating if he should say more.

"He did not only pray to Námo." Elros whispered.

"I know," Ereinion answered. "But he is healthy and strong now. You cannot hold that moment against him. It was a cry for help. You and Maglor came to his aid. Remember that you helped him. Maglor healed him with his song and taught him to play the harp. You both guarded him as best you could."

"He told you?"

"Not in so many words. But I am not blind." Ereinion countered. "How long had he, only a child then, endured the abuse before it happened?"

"Four years." Elros admitted with down-turned eyes.

"Four years?" Ereinion repeated incredulously. "How can you believe him weak after that? He was brave. He was but fourteen then, just a child according to elves."

"He looked like a child then, his growth stunted by the injuries. I was nearly a foot taller than him."

"Elros, you are both grown and free now. It is a very different situation. You are not to blame for what happened. It did not happen because of any deficiency on Elrond's part. Leave the blame for what occurred in Amon Ereb solely where it belongs. Maedhros, prejudice, and the Fëanorians are to blame." Ereinion embraced the peredhel. "Share your feelings with Elrond. It will help you both heal."

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Representatives from other settlements of men, including some from the forest of Brethil, arrived within the next few days. Ereinion was surprised to meet members of the reclusive House of Haleth and representatives of several Easterling settlements. The King's guards were slightly unnerved by the number of men as they now felt outnumbered. They feared that they might be unable to adequately protect their King should any edain prove untrustworthy. Gil-Galad, though felt no such danger as the House of Bëor and the House of Hador had proven themselves as loyal allies throughout much of this age.

Ereinion watched the sons of Eärendil from afar, joining them as often as he could. Unobtrusively, he tried to glean further information about the brothers and listened with interest whenever he heard others discussing the peredhil.

"That such a slight warrior could hold his own against Elros is impressive." One of the men nearby was saying.

"I did not think it was going to be much of a contest, but Elrond's skill and quickness was remarkable." The other agreed. Ereinion found that he was unable to hold back his curiosity.

"Did they spar this morning?" He asked the man.

"Yes, my Lord." He stammered shocked at finding himself face to face with the Elven King. He rushed a bow, not quite sure how he should address a King.

"I've seen Elrond spar in Mithlond but I haven't had the pleasure of watching Elros." The King said lightly revealing his genuine interest. "Who won?"

"Elros did, though I think he was disappointed that it took him nearly an hour to gain the upper hand against his brother. I have never seen our captain so drained by a match before."

"Elros is your captain?" Ereinion inquired curiously.

"Yes, ever since he led a successful surprise attack against Orcs. It happened before we retreated to Baath."

Xxxxxxx Several days later xxxxxxxX

Two representatives from each of the settlements of Men congregated in the town hall. They sat around a large oval meeting table. The High King and Elrond completed the group. The High King's Seneschal stood off in the shadows by the door, where he could both watch the proceedings and guard his King. Each of the settlements reported on orc activity in their surrounding regions. Then, the King updated them on scout reports from Angband and the surrounding areas. Unfortunately, many men and elves, who lived outside of Beleriand's borders had already been enslaved by Morgoth.

"How large is Morgoth's force?" Belegarous, the leader of Baath questioned.

"Based on intelligence gathered by our scouts, it is estimated at somewhere between fifteen and twenty thousand orc fighters and an unknown number of allies and assistants. Lord Cirdan predicts that Morgoth will not risk a full assault on Beleriand until he is confident that his forces are large enough to crush any resistance. I anticipate that orcs will slowly step up their efforts to engage our forces on the outer settlement to gauge our strategy and strength." King Gil-Galad confidently explained.

"Twenty thousand!" Some of the others gasped.

"Will the Dwarves choose sides as well?" Belegarous spoke directly to Elrond. It was widely known that the dwarves of the city of Belegost in Ered Luin had named this son of Eärendil as a dwarf friend.

"Unless we can convince them otherwise, I predict that the majority of the dwarves including those in Nogrod, Khazad-dum and perhaps the few that reside in Beleriand at Bar-en-Nibin-noeg may side with Morgoth unless we can convince them otherwise. Even some men may decide to fight with Morgoth." Elrond said, not wanting to mention the Easterlings directly, for there were many different factions who were not united in their views.

"I do not know what the dwarves of Belegost will decide. We have many allies among them. They have fought beside men and elves in the past." Elrond answered thoughtfully.

"Do you think the dwarves lean this way for self-preservation?"

"Self-deception more likely," Gil-Galad said. "Morgoth will not hold true to any promises given to those that side with him. If the dwarves chose to enter into the war on his side, mark my words it will be less than a generation before they find themselves fully enslaved by Morgoth."

"Still," said Halbern of the House of Haleth. "If it is a choice between certain death now versus possible enslavement in the future." He paused and looked at his companion Methrin, who was also dark-haired but shorter in stature.

"What did Morgoth offer?" Belegarous demanded.

"Our house was told that if we were able to deliver Gil-Galad, the High King to Morgoth our settlement would be sparred," Methrin admitted. The others in the room considered this statement in stunned silence.

"It is folly. Morgoth would likely leave you alone only until he had subdued Mithlond. Our only safety lies in our working together." Belegarous concluded.

"That is why I seek to establish a written alliance of all elves, men, and as many dwarves as possible. We need to unite the free peoples of Middle Earth against our common foe." The High King said forcefully.

"Even the kinslayers from Himring?" Halbern asked the High King

"You truly believe that all elves, including the Teleri, Avari, Sindar, Noldo, and others, will lay aside their past grievances and animosity and fight together?" Elros added. Gil-Galad shook his head in confirmation.

"Divided, we will fall to Morgoth. We will only stand a chance if we are united." Gil-Galad said definitively.

"What is your opinion of such an alliance, Elrond Eärendilion?" All eyes turned to the twin who had suffered most under the Fëanorians. Elrond paused for a moment, carefully considering his words.

"I would proudly fight besides men, dwarves, and the elves, though the idea of fighting side by side with the kinslayers from Amon Ereb." He drew in a deep breath, "is difficult to fathom. We must remember that the Fëanorians are fierce warriors. They are valuable allies in a war against the forces of Morgoth. War makes for strange bedfellows. Sometimes, personal issues must be set aside for the greater good. It is partially the strife among our own people that has aided Morgoth's swift rise."

"Even if all the free peoples of Middle Earth unite, we can not possibly defeat Morgoth's armies, should they keep increasing in size." Halbern noted grimly. "We will all perish."

"Help is coming." Elros and Elrond said in unison, much to the surprise around the table. Even Ereinion looked at them in amazement. Elros continued.

"Our father Eärendil sailed west to rally the Valar to aid us." Elros said.

"He has succeeded in convincing them." Elrond said.

"They will come and bring warriors to help." Elros said.

"We must hold out until help arrives." Elrond continued. "They are gathering forces. But moving such an army over the sea will require time."

"Eärendil, with a Silmaril in his grasp, sails his ship in the night sky to signify the Valar's promise of aid," Elrond admitted in a softer voice.

"It is Gil-Estel, the Star of Hope, that appeared just two years ago." Elros added. The room exploded with questions and voices of disbelief at the brother's statements. But the interchanges forged an alliance and they swiftly turned to debating the wording of a written document.

Xxxxxxxx

At dinner, Ereinion noticed the brothers quickly eat and quietly slip away. He motioned for Cirulian to follow them at a discreet distance. Once the evening meal was completed, the King politely excused himself and walked back towards the Inn accompanied by his guards and Seneschal. Cirulian met them partway and told the King that he had followed Eärendil's sons up to a secluded hill on the far side of the settlement. They appeared to be lounging in the grass, watching for the stars. Ereinion dismissed all save one of his guards and directed Cirulian to lead him to the peredhil. When he could see them, he had Cirulian and the other guard wait at the bottom of the hill. Elrond looked over as Ereinion approached.

"Sons of Eärendil, what troubles you this night?" The brothers' eyes were filled with grief, and their sorrow was almost palpable. Neither spoke.

"Did you both share the vision of your father coming before the Valar?" Ereinion pressed them.

"Yes," Elrond whispered, and Elros nodded, oddly silent. "Together, both our parents argued convincingly for intervention." Elrond could again envision his mother Elwing standing before the bright circle of the Valar. A peculiar sense of pride, sorrow, and grief flowed through him. Ereinion could see that the vision wrought different reactions in the two brothers.

"They were forbidden from stepping foot again in Middle Earth." Elrond voice was filled with anguish.

"Yet, they were not welcomed into Aman," Elros explained, his voice shaking with anger and indignation. "It is clear what the Valar think of peredhil." Ereinion, for the first time since he was an elfling, stood speechless. He crossed over and sat between the two grieving boys, placing one arm over each. Together, they stared up at the night sky, waiting for the rising of Eärendil's star. It was not until it had appeared and had traveled a short distance into the night sky that Ereinion spoke.

"I can not claim to understand the Valar." He said. "But regardless of their other decisions, the Valar must surely hold your father in high esteem if they have appointed him as the bright hope, Gil-Estel, shining for the world."

"How long do you think we will live cut off from our family?" Elrond asked softly. He was absent-mindedly fingering a gold pendant that hung around his neck.

"How long a life does Eru condemn half-elves to?" Elros added.

"Life is a gift Eärendilion. Even Elves might lose it at any time here in Middle Earth, especially in these treacherous times." Ereinion said

"Elves might be reborn from the Halls of Mandos and rejoin their families in the West," Elrond said. He had often thought of the story of Glorfindel, the Golden Warrior who had valiantly saved his father's life but had lost his own in the process. Surely, such an act of self-sacrifice would be looked kindly on by Eru. Surely, such a being must have been rewarded and reunited with his family.

"But we are neither elves nor men. We have even a touch of maiar blood running through us. How long do ones such as us live?" Elros asked again.

"I can not tell you. None of your lines have aged naturally. Unfortunately, they have all been taken too early from us." Ereinion said solemnly. "If I were to hazard a guess, I might say that it would be longer than men but shorter than elves."

"Somewhere between one hundred and infinity." Elros laughed sadly. "I would prefer not to be immortal. I have seen the sorrow and hatred in the ancient Elves' eyes in Amon Ereb. To live with one's regrets and mistakes forever. How could that ever be a gift?"

"Most of the royal Noldor line also met untimely ends," Ereinion said sorrowfully.

"Perhaps, it is our lot to make the best of what we have, live well, and use our talents for good," Elrond said softly.

Chapter 15: Moving Forward

Chapter Text

Ereinion was making plans to depart Baath. His elite guards were gathering supplies. His Seneschal was busy plotting their return journey to Mithlond. Eärendil's sons did not appear yesterday. Today, they had only emerged briefly for the final gathering of the delegates. Both looked pale and haggard. Ereinion supposed that they were still in shock from the revelations about their parents. With the brief break opened to him this afternoon, he grabbed a small healers bag and motioned for Cirulian and Durgin to accompany him.

"Cirulian, can you lead me to the house where Elrond and Elros are staying?" The guard nodded. When they arrived at the house, Ereinion knocked and signaled the guards to remain outside. A tall, somewhat older woman with dark hair peppered with silver strands opened the door.

"Good afternoon, my Lady." The King said kindly not wanting to shock the woman. "I am Gil-Galad, a kin of Elrond and Elros. I was worried for them. Are they well?" A few minutes of silence passed as the woman registered who was standing before her.

"My Lord." She stuttered. "I am Ríanna. They are here. They are resting. Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you Lady Ríanna." Gil-Galad followed her inside to a small sitting area. The woman motioned for the King to wait, but he followed her with elven silent footsteps as she went towards the rooms where the twins were staying. "Thank you for caring for them. They have suffered a shock. I was wondering if I might be able to speak with them."

"I heard them whispering long into the night. They were only up and out of the house for an hour today." She confided in the elf King. "I have never seen both of them with eyes so filled with sorrow. I do not know how to comfort them." She knocked on Elros' door, but there was no answer. She opened it slowly. The still forms of the two brothers were sprawled on the floor. Ereinion walked around Ríanna and knelt next to the closest twin, Elros. The elf was sleeping, curled up with his head resting on a small pillow. They had obviously succumbed to their need for rest after another long conversation. Empty glasses and plates were perched precariously on the small table. Ereinion examined Elros more closely, gently laying a hand on his brow. He was surprised to find it warm with fever. Perhaps, he reasoned, this was his body's reaction to his aching heart. Elros did not stir. Ereinion knew he was in a light healing sleep. He was surprised to see stubble around Elros's chin and above his lips.

"Already Elros appears more like a man. He seemed older in appearances than his brother, more rugged and kingly." Ereinion thought. "Though Elros has the glow and grace of Elves."

"I have some herbs that will help." Ereinion addressed the woman. "Could you boil some water?" Ríanna nodded and quickly left the room.

Elrond was curled like a cat in a circle of sunlight under a small window. Of the two, he looked like the elfling he was, though his cheeks were unnaturally flushed with fever. Ereinion puzzled slightly as he assessed this son of Eärendil. Although he knew they were identical in age, Elrond looked like the younger brother, a lithe figure with a smooth face unmarred by hair. Elrond was in a deeper healing sleep. Elves, he knew, could fade from such broken hearts. Yet, he knew instinctively that both of Eärendil's sons had an inner strength and drive that would save them from such a fate. How could he help ease the burdens that these two carried? Ereinion joined Ríanna in the kitchen. He riffled through the healing herbs that he had brought. Together, they brewed a healing tea primarily with willow bark and chamomile.

"This is chamomile it calms and soothes the overwrought spirit." He pulled out brown strips and handed them to Ríanna. "This bark is from the willow. It can be used to relieve fever. I will leave these with you." The King explained the use of several other herbs as well.

"Thank you my Lord." Ríanna replied.

"Ríanna, does Elros shave his beard?" Ereinion asked curiously.

"Up until a week ago, Elros had a full beard, much like the other men his age." Ríanna returned. "He shaved it off the morning before you arrived. I think he wanted to be sure to look more like his brother when he welcomed him here. Elros takes after our people while Elrond looks more like an elf or perhaps a gangly teen who has not yet begun to fill out. His long hair even gives him a girlish look. Last time he lived among us Elros convinced him to cut his hair, so he looked more like others."

"Do you think it is safe for an elf to remain alone among men?"

"But he is not truly an elf, and his brother Elros has earned the respect of all within the settlement. Already he was voted to represent us at your council. Elrond is well-liked by the families from our village." Ereinion nodded and pushed the worry about the brother's physical differences from his mind. Elros was close to waking when Ereinion came in with the tea. They proceeded to rouse him first and coax him to take the draught. Elros calmed as the draught took effect. Ríanna talked with him soothingly. Ereinion moved next to Elrond, still deep in healing sleep, although his fever had climbed. He gently stroked the dark head and called to Elrond.

"I can call him," Elros said softly, moving over to his brother. Ereinion nodded, and Elros took Elrond's hand in his own. He closed his eyes and focused on his brother's spirit calling to him through their bond. Elrond began to stir under his brother's call.

"You have reconciled and strengthened your connection?" Ereinion asked.

"Yes, thank you for your help and advice," Elros said. "His spirit is truly amazing and resilient."

"Both of your spirits are," Ereinion said. Their exchange was interrupted by a small moan from Elrond, who proceeded to stretch and open his eyes.

"Elros? Ereinion?" He said groggily, though he closed his eyes briefly because of the throbbing in his head. He was suddenly filled with feeling of shame at his own weaknesses. "I am sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry about," Elros said soothingly, recognizing from Elrond's tense features that his brother was suffering from a migraine. "Ereinion woke me first and gave me a healing draught. Drink this. It will help with your migraine. You will soon feel better." Elrond nodded weakly and obeyed. About a half hour later, both young ones were beginning to feel more coherent. Their fevers had faded due to the actions of the draught. Ereinion knew the time had come to discuss their feelings and confront the grief that weighed on them.

"Your father may not be able to step foot again in Middle Earth, but that does not mean you won't ever see your family again. You can build your own lives and establish your own families." He paused, looking at both peredhil who sat stoically. "Elrond foresaw that your father will aid us in the coming war. You will see him again even if you will not be able to talk with him. You can be proud of what your parents have accomplished."

"What did you see?" Elros demanded. Elrond took a brief breath and called up the memory in his mind. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on opening the connection with his brother and guiding him to the images. Ereinion watched them closely with some trepidation. Silent tears were gliding down both of the youth's faces. Elrond was now trembling ever so slightly. The King pulled Elrond into his arms.

"Elflings let the vision go. It is not happening now. It may or may not come to pass. We will face whatever will come together." He soothed, smiling slightly when Elros bristled at the term 'elflings'. "You may yet grieve the loss of your parents, but you are never alone." He pulled Elros closer.

"You are both yet young in the count of either men or elves." Ereinion paused. "War is coming in the next few years. To withstand such horrors, you must have faith in what is good and right in this world. Rest your spirits while you can. Learn to draw strength and peace from nature. Spend time learning and doing things that you enjoy. Spend time breathing in the scents and beauty of this world so that it can sustain your spirits in times of despair." Both of the young half-elves were silent in their contemplation. Elros wiped the tears from his face in embarrassment, but Elrond sat motionless, still held in Ereinion's embrace. He was exhausted from the act of revisiting the vision. Ereinion studied Elwing's sons.

"Elrond" He said softly. "I must return to Mithlond, but you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. Though do not stay too long, elfling. Indiriel and I have grown accustomed to having you in our family."

"I would like to stay in Baath for a few weeks. I could share what I have learned about the healing arts from Silsilalda and Noenri with the healer here." He whispered and looked at his King for approval. Ereinion nodded in wonder at the youth's kind heart.

"Elros," Elrond continued, his voice growing stronger as he began to voice his beliefs. "The healers of men know so little. These people have been constantly battling to stay alive. They have not had the luxury of studying healing as the others have. The dwarven healers and the elves are both more advanced, though in fairness elves rarely need to deal with the kinds of illnesses that the second born face. I can teach the healer here about the hygiene and wound treatment practices that prevent infection. It is basic knowledge in Mithlond. Used here, it could save and improve many lives. Even sharing my limited knowledge of herbs would help people here."

"Elrond, I am glad you will stay for the next few weeks. I would like us to celebrate our Birthday here together." Elros laughed mischievously. "I will succeed in getting you to loosen up!"

"Birthday?" Ereinion questioned, laughing at the blush of embarrassment on Elrond's face.

"Why have you not shared this information with me?"

"It's not important," Elrond mumbled.

"Your birthday is important to me." Elros rubbed Elrond's head playfully. He knew his brother was at times plagued by self-doubt and loathing, a lingering consequence of their captivity.

"Well, you must enjoy the celebration together!" Ereinion declared. Ereinion began to understand how much these incredibly bright souls had suffered in Amon Ereb. These revelations only added to his admiration of them. "It is time to make more happy memories. Where do you wish to celebrate Yule?" Elrond brightened and began to tell Elros of the dancing and celebrations in Mithlond.

"You danced with the Lady Galadriel?" Elros said in surprise.

"Yes! I would like to see you join the dance, Elros!" Elrond said. "Let us return to Mithlond for the winter solstice." Elros nodded in agreement.

"Well that is settled. I will look for your coming in one month's time." Ereinion paused. "Shall I send some of the guards to meet you?"

"That will not be necessary. We will travel with the men who will visit Lord Cirdan to aid with the construction of ships." Elros said. "This month, I will coordinate the integration of patrols with the other settlements of men. I can bring updates on our progress."

Xxxxxxx

It had been a week since the elves had departed. Elrond was busy working with the healer during the day and helping to plant the seeds he had brought from Mithlond. The mornings were usually filled with sparring with Elros and training with the bow. Elrond had always disliked practicing with the bow. He was less skilled than his brother. Elros, in his usual overprotective manner, did not want him accompanying the Baath patrols unless he improved. This morning, many other warriors observed their sparring practice. There was an undercurrent of surprise at how much Elrond had improved since he had returned from Mithlond. Afterwards, Elrond spent some time practicing with a bow. He succeeded in hitting the target the large majority of the time. He collected his arrows with some relief and then headed off as usual to the house of healers. The hairs on his neck stood on edge in warning, and he looked around to assess if there were any dangers present. But his path was empty, and he could not discern anything amiss. Aldern, the healer, was working in the herb garden when he arrived.

"Elrond! Come see. Some of the seeds you brought are sprouting. You must teach me how to care for them. Teach me how to recognize when they are ready to harvest. Elrond had bartered for a pile of parchment from town administrators. He was carrying a bundle of them.

"I can do better than that. Together, we can describe their care and begin to write a book of medicinal herbs." The afternoon was spent teaching the human healer about herbs he had brought from Noenri's garden and describing how elves prepared sterile bandages and treated wounds. Together, they committed most of their discussion to parchment. Elrond tried his best to draw pictures of herbs and add notes about harvesting and storing them. He made a mental note to practice sketching plants. It was extremely fulfilling for Elrond to know that this settlement would soonhave better treatments and healing draughts available.

"Next time I come, I will bring a different variety of plants for you." Elrond promised.

"Tomorrow, we should discuss the types of illnesses I have treated patients for here in Baath. I know that Elves don't typically suffer from illnesses, but perhaps you can speak with the healers in Mithlond. They may have some new suggestions for treatments." Aldern said.

"That sounds like a good idea," Elrond said with a yawn. His stomach gave another rumble of protest.

"You are tired, my boy." Aldern laughed "And probably hungry for dinner. I ate lunch before you arrived, but if I were to hazard a guess you did not remember to get lunch." Elrond smiled sheepily.

"No, I guess it is time to go eat." He smiled. "I will see you tomorrow." He waved goodbye and headed back to Ríanna and Belegarous' house. He only went a short distance when a large bearded warrior stepped across his path.

"Son of Eärendil." The large man addressed him.

"Yes?" Elrond looked up. The man's blue eyes held a glint of trouble, something akin to what Elrond had seen in Amon Ereb. They also have another emotion that Elrond could not place.

"You are a very pretty boy." The large man cooed, grasping his wrist in a bruising hold. He pulled Elrond towards the alleyway.

"Unhand me. I have no wish to accompany you." Elrond's eyes flashed in anger. He twisted trying to pull away but the man's other hand seized his braid jerking Elrond's head violently towards the left.

"Such beautiful hair, like a little maid." The man's lecherous eyes widened as he pursed his lips, pulling Elrond closer to him. What happened next was pure survival instinct and years of self-defense training. Elrond struck out quickly and precisely with his foot, causing the man to grunt in pain and to release his braid. In reflex, punches were thrown by both Elrond and the man. One, Elrond was able to block, but a second fist caught him in the side. His return jab hit the man squarely on the jaw. A kick to the groin caused his attacker to fall swiftly to the ground. Elrond spun and retreated onto the street his keen eyes, straining to see people he recognized. It was dusk, and many people were already home for dinner. Seeing no one, Elrond quickly headed towards the house, his heart pounding at this violent encounter. He did not slow down until he had crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

"Elrond?" Belegarous said, surprised to see this son of Eärendil flushed and dirty. "Are you alright?" Elros entered the room alerted by Belegarous's call.

"Elrond!" Elros concerned voice came as he crossed the room towards his brother. "What happened to you?" He could see bruises forming along Elrond's left wrist and pushed up the sleeve. He gasped at the complete handprint traced in red on the pale skin.

"It is nothing, Elros. I am uninjured. But the training in self-defense at Mithlond proved quite useful just now. One of the warriors from the training field today intercepted me on the way back from the healer's house. His intentions were ill." Elrond said in a calm voice that did not reflect his inner turmoil. "We had a bit of a fight, but I prevailed." Elros' eyes widened in fear and anger.

"Who?" Elros demanded.

"He will not think me an easy target again," Elrond said.

"Who was it?" Belegarous asked calmly, leading Elrond to a chair in the kitchen. "We must protect other people in the settlement from him."

"I do not know his name, but I can describe him," Elrond said, his voice shaking slightly. Ríanna set about brewing a special tea for the boy. He described the man with as much detail as he could.

"It is Melrik." Belegarous said in dismay.

"He may have a broken jaw." Elrond said, grasping the warm cup Ríanna handed him and breathing in its soothing aroma.
"He was involved in a previous incident, threatening a boy in the settlement. Luckily, the boy's family walked in immediately and prevented anything from happening." Belegarous explained. Elros shook his head, remembering the trial.

"I am sorry, brother." Elros said.

"It is not your fault." Elrond returned.

"It was his first offense, and he seemed sufficiently repentant," Elros said. "We sentenced him to community service and assigned one of the other warriors to watch over him."

"Judging and ruling over people is a difficult business," Belegarous added. He knew that Elros was only just beginning to learn this lesson. "We want to preserve individual rights while protecting all, even our weakest inhabitants." Elrond stared into his cup, closing his eyes briefly in shame. He knew immediately that he had been targeted again because he was different from men. Others believed him weak and vulnerable. Elros could easily sense his brother's feelings.

"You are not weak, Elrond. You defended yourself against a much larger foe, little brother." Elros did not like the picture of his brother facing a man, who was nearly two and a half times his size. The fight could have easily ended with Elrond seriously injured. He said a silent prayer of thanks to Elbereth.

"Excuse me for a little while," Belegarous said, standing. He motioned for Elros to stay. "I should take care of this now. We are fortunate that Melrik chose you as his victim, Elrond. You were able to defend yourself. If I can prevent it, I will not have any other youth fall victim to him."

"Eat up, boys." Ríanna reminded them, seeing that Elrond had not touched his dinner. Instead, the boy sipped slowly at the tea. Elros tried to distract him.

"I would establish a kingdom of Men, where people would be safe and able to pursue other things besides being a warrior. Where men with interests in healing, like you, could study and the arts, music, and lore could flourish." Elros smiled and described his vision of a perfect settlement for men. Elrond relaxed slowly as the draught took effect. He began to nibble at the food in front of him.

"Do you think I fit in among men?" Elrond said sadly. "Somehow, I stand out both here and in Mithlond."

"People here know and admire you, Elrond." Ríanna observed.

"I dream to establish a haven for all kindred, a place where people with good hearts regardless of their origins could come to share and exchange their knowledge for the betterment of Middle Earth." Elrond declared. Then he added in a lower tone. "But first, I must become a skilled warrior, so I will know how to defend my haven and protect my people." Elrond took another long sip of the tea. He frowned slightly as he looked at the herbs floating at the bottom.

"Ríanna? Who gave you these?" He said, holding back a slight yawn though his eyelids drooped. Ríanna merely smiled.

"The herbs and brewing directions came directly from your King." She laughed undaunted by the accusations in the youth's eyes. This was a time to use the sleeping draught that King Gil-Galad had given her.

"Come, brother! Let me put you to bed." Elros laughed. He guided Elrond to the bedroom and helped him wash his face and change into his sleeping clothes. Elrond shrugged when Elros probed the fist-shaped bruise on his side. Elros tried to will away his anger for this man who had dared to hurt his brother. He wanted to calm and soothe Elrond, not to disturb him with his own feeling of inadequacy at having failed yet again from protecting the only family he had left.

"It is just a bruise, Elros. Don't worry. I will be fine." Elrond said in a sleepy voice, his eyes already closing. Elros finished buttoning up the nightshirt and covered his brother's sleeping form. The sky had just begun to lighten when Elros stirred. Feelings of distress mixed with pain momentarily overwhelmed him until he realized these feelings were not his own. He quickly rose and opened the door slightly to his brother's room. He could see his brother sitting in the corner on the floor, his body shaking slightly with his silent sobs.

"El" He said gently, crossing the room and taking his brother in his arms. "I am here." He rubbed soothing circles on Elrond's back as his brother's tears wet his shoulder.

"I am so sorry. All those years in Amon Ereb, I did not comfort you." Elros said brokenly. "I am glad that I can be here now."

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Elrond could hear whispers and giggles followed by the creak of his door. Two sets of tiny feet pitter-pattered slowly towards him. He tried not to smile and kept his eyes shut while making exaggerated snoring sounds. Moments later, two small bodies pounced, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Elrond! Wake up!" Analise gleefully called. Her younger brother Bergil laughed while bouncing up and down on Elrond's stomach. In self-defense, Elrond lifted him high into the air, precipitating the boy's shrieks of delight.

"More!" cried Ríanna's grandson.

"Can we fly to the stars?" Analise asked, at six years of age, she already had grown up airs about her. "Momma said you and Elros are sons of a star. Your Dad must twinkle for us tonight to wish you a Happy Birthday!"

"Happy Birthday!" Bergil said, throwing his tiny hands around Elrond's neck and hugging him close. A fierce feeling rose within Elrond to protect these precious children.

"Momma said you grew, but I think you look the same." Analise paused to run her fingers through Elrond's dark hair. "'Cept for your hair. I like your pretty elf hair! Can I comb it? Please!"

"Elf hair?" Elrond questioned.

"Yes, you are our little elf, and Elros is our uncle." Analise reasoned. They had long gotten used to addressing Elros as their 'uncle' although they knew that it was not actually the case.

"Can I not be your uncle too?" Elrond asked.

"Little elf." Bergil laughed at such a basic misunderstanding. "You have to be a man to be our uncle." Young children always see things in black and white, with a clarity that is lost as they grow. Not long afterwards Elrond found himself seated on the floor with little hands and serious faces carefully assessing his long hair. He fidgeted as the fingers tickled his sensitive ears. Soon, multiple combs brushed the hair evenly over his face, at times catching his nose. Little fingers caressed his scalp and pulled at the long strands. He closed his eyes at this simple pleasure, remembering days long past when his mother soothed and tended him. Elros and Ríanna laughed as they entered the room and observed the scene.

"Analise, poor Elrond can not see anyone!" Ríanna said trying to keep a straight face.

"It looks as if your head is on backwards!" Elros teased barely getting the words out over his laughter.

"You will make a great father someday," Ríanna added.

"I think Elros will be their next victim," Elrond mumbled as Bergil brushed the curtain of dark hair away from his pale face, exposing his bright smile.

"Almost done." The little boy declared seriously.

"Next! I was their first victim this morning." Elros laughed. "Happy Birthday, sleepy head!" They heard Selina calling.

"Momma!" Bergil dropped his comb immediately and dashed out of the room. His sister was only a step or two behind him.

"At least I know how I rate." Elrond smiled, grasping Elros' offered hand and standing. He gave Elros a brief hug.

"Happy Birthday!" He pushed his hair away from his face and turned to get a bag from the corner.

"I've been waiting to give you this." He pulled out a long, thin package and handed it to Elros. "I hope it brings back good memories."

Elros stared at the package for a second before opening it. It was not quite long enough to be a sword. Besides, he knew that his brother would be unlikely to give him any kind of weapon.

"Elrond!" He breathed in shock and gently fingered the beautiful boxwood instrument. It was a tenor recorder, much like the one Elros had been learning to play so many years ago in Sirion. "It is beautiful! I don't know how much I remember."

"I don't think you ever forget." Elrond rejoiced in seeing tears of happiness flood his brother's features. "Who knows, perhaps we can play a duet sometime." Elrond had not learned to play an instrument in Sirion. Maglor taught him to play the harp. The sweet voice of the harp became his lifeline, a way to overcome the daily humiliations to steal his heart safely away from the cruelty they had experienced. After a leisurely breakfast, Elros dragged a reluctant Elrond down to the training grounds.

"I thought we were taking a break today!" Elrond protested

"No, it is time for an archery contest," Elros announced. "You have improved much over the last few weeks. I want to challenge you to a contest to rate where you currently stand. Otherwise, how will I know how to employ your skills on patrols or while we travel next week to Mithlond?"

When they got down to the fields, Elros quickly went into the shed to retrieve two bows while Elrond took his quiver full of arrows over to the targets. When he turned, he found his brother grinning and handing him a beautifully carved bow. It had star shapes along one side.

"Happy Birthday Elrond!" Elros exclaimed. "May it help to keep you safe." Elrond was speechless as he examined the intricate carvings.

"I made it myself." Elros pointed out proudly. "For you, son of a star." Elrond smiled.

"Tis beautiful! Thank you."

"Well, let us see if you can shoot accurately with it." Elros teased, punching his brother lightly on the arm. After some minor adjustments and a round of practice, Elrond soon felt comfortable with his new bow.

"All right, little brother. It is time for our contest. Loser must sing the Lay of Luthien at tonight's festivities." He grinned, knowing how much Elrond hated the spotlight. Elrond only glared at him before begrudgingly nodding in agreement.

"I am nearly as tall as you, and I'm still growing taller, unlike you, who have ceased growing in that direction." Elrond teased. Elros whistled at that taunt. The battle commenced. Each matched the other's shot as they traded mock insults. Each laughed at the other's increasingly inventive verbal jabs. It took nearly an hour and eight successive trips to recover their arrows before Elrond's shot sailed wide. It sailed slightly outside the bulls' eye, though still on the target. He groaned in defeat.

"Ah, I so love your singing!" Elros said with undisguised glee, gloating over his victory. "Seriously, brother, you are by far the best archer in the settlement - except for me!" Elros bowed proudly and regally to the small group of spectators who gave their captain a round of applause.

Xxxxxx

Elrond had helped Ríanna prepare dinner as her sons and their families were also coming to celebrate. Elros had shared many patrols with them. The small room was soon animated with their conversation. The heated discussion swirled around Elrond, who sat quietly. He was unfamiliar with many of the events in the conversation and did not know Ríanna's sons as well. He sighed, deciding he had better taste the ale, which was not one of his favorite beverages.

Finally, after much prodding from Elros, he lifted the heavy goblet to his lips. Surprise and pleasure crossed his face as he discovered that the goblet was filled with an exquisite red wine.

"Gil-Galad left it." Elros laughed. "He said I would have an easier time getting you drunk with it as quote 'you wouldn't dare water down such a fine vintage' endquote." Belegarous, Ríanna and their sons laughed loudly at Elros' imitation of the Elven King.

"Getting your little brother drunk is a worthy endeavor," Beleford said, eyeing his own little brother mischeiviously.

"I did not know elves could get drunk," Riand said.

"Half-elf." Elrond corrected.

"Whatever," Beleford said, rolling his eyes and taking a deep drink of ale. Riand was trying not to laugh as he saw Elros discreetly topped off Elrond's cup yet again. The conversation moved towards recent news from the other settlements and dinner had nearly ended before Belegarous turned his attention again towards the quieter peredhel.

"I heard you are to be the minstrel tonight!" Belegarous said his eyes twinkling.

"Perhaps getting drunk is not such a bad idea." Elrond groaned and took another sip of wine.

"I want to request the dwarven drinking song once the children have gone to bed." Elrond blushed red at Ríanna's request. The others snickered and cackled.

"Ha! You have heard it!" Elros declared.

"We have to find you a nice woman." Riand teased.

"He is too young." Belegarous reprimanded them.

"Delicate little elf!" Riand slurred.

"Unlike Elros, I have not yet finished growing," Elrond said in an exasperated voice. "Who knows? I may match him in build in a few more years. I am catching up quickly."

"Elves are so pretty and delicate." Belegarous smiled, trying to elicit a rise from the half-elf. Elrond merely rolled his eyes in response.

"Elves can be as broad and as muscular as Elros. Lord Cirdan is larger. I think that King Gil-Galad and his Seneschal would be quite offended by your generalizations."

"You said that you sparred with the Mariner. What is he like?" Elros asked. Soon, they were discussing Mithlond until Belegarous reminded them of Elrond's duties.

"I think it is time for those songs."

"Here! Here!" The others cheered.

"Yes, brother, enough with these distractions." Elrond nodded and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"If I must."

Chapter 17: Journey to Mithlond

Chapter Text

They had left Baath yesterday morning to head back to Mithlond. Elrond was excited to return to where his heart now called home, he had some misgivings about explaining it to Elros. Perhaps Elros would understand once they were there.

"If we go to war, I would like to have you by my side, brother," Elros said.

"I will gladly fight by you. It seems only fitting that the sons of Eärendil stand together." Elrond agreed.

"What will Gil-Galad say?" Elros asked.

"He will understand." Secretly Elrond hoped that Elros might find his heart also drawn to the elves of Mithlond, although he knew it to be unlikely. The woods were oddly silent devoid of the usual wildlife. Elrond heard the trees warning whispers and silently called to Elros, who had made the same observation. There was another party of men closing in upon them, the trees chattered nervously at their ill intentions. Elros, the captain of their group, signaled to those under his command, and quickly, three of them ascended into the trees with their bows.

"May your aim be true, brother," Elros added wordlessly as he watched Elrond climb gracefully up into the Oak's branches.

"May Elbereth protect us." Elrond prayed while readying his bow. Moments later the enemy, a large group of Easterlings overtook them. Elros was spouting orders and tactics to the men on the ground and cutting down the enemies that came in his range. Elrond and the other archers fired arrows at their foes in rapid succession. For his part, Elrond's aim was true. His heart was clenched at each death he dealt, for these were men, not orcs. He lost count of how many foes he had brought down with his arrows. His supply was steadily dwindling. Unfortunately, the orcs were not far behind. He shook his head as he realized these Easterlings had allied themselves with the orcs. War cries echoed around them. In the shadows, he saw the enemy circle and try to surprise Elros from the rear. He aimed at his brother's attackers, the arrow embedded in one of their backs with a sickening thud, which reverberated in Elrond's ears. The orc death cry alerted Elros to the danger. The hiss of the trees grew louder, and Elrond heard muffled yell from one of his fellow archers. An orc had overtaken the man. Elrond's heart sank as he realized there was naught he could do to aid the man. A sharp pain brought him back to attention. He looked down to see a knife naught he could do to aid the man. A sharp pain brought him back to attention. He looked down to see a knife embedded in his bicep. The tree beneath him rustled as an orc ascended. Elrond dropped his useless bow and grabbed the knife in his right hand, grimacing as he pulled it free from his other arm. The blade seemed surreal, painted red as it was with his blood. Seconds later, the orc was upon him. He kicked at the orc as it lunged for him. Then he caught it in the shoulder with its own knife. Red and black blood mixed as they struggled high above the ground. The orc clawed at his chest, and for a brief moment, they both teetered on the branch before a horrifying crack sent them plunging downward. Elrond somehow had the presence of mind to deliver a fatal stroke with the blade before the ground rushed up to meet them.

Xxxxxxxx

The crackle and pop of the fire was the next thing Elrond was aware of. His throbbing head pulsed staccato along with the fire, overwhelming any other protests from his body. He felt a soothing hot cloth wipe gently at his head and shivered slightly when he realized his mail and shirt had been removed. Someone was bandaging his arm, which throbbed around new stitches that closed the knife wound.

"Elfling, can you hear me?" A familiar voice called from the fog.

"Ciru," Elrond slurred as he tried to recall the warrior's full name. His tongue felt like a brick in his mouth.

"Cirulian," the warrior supplied, now worried about the extent of the elf's head injury. "Can you tell me what happened?" Elrond opened his eyes for clues. A dark blue sky with streaks of white that could only be stars met his eyes. His brain was puzzled,trying to organize events.

"Don't remember." The guard smiled comfortingly and brought a cup to his lips. Slowly, he drank the bitter liquid.

Voices buzzed around him, and he closed his eyes.

"Do not sleep, little one," Cirulian ordered, smiling at the grimace that appeared on Elrond's face. "You have a concussion." The guard's fingers probed his head, easily locating the large bump above his forehead. Cirulian then probed his chest and limbs, checking for broken bones.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?" The guard asked, his lips curved in a concerned frown as moments past without an

answer from the confused elf before him. Images of his fight in the trees flashed through Elrond's mind. "You are lucky, young one. Somehow, you escaped without a broken bone."

"Orcs and Easterlings," Elrond said, suddenly agitated.

"Tell me what you remember." Cirulian prompted him.

"The trees … warned us… then ….men attacked." Elrond said brokenly his eyes and temples burned with the

effort it took to remember. He had killed many men, suddenly nauseous at that thought.

"You fought well elfling," Cirulian said, relieved that the elf seemed to recall at least some of the events. "I found your arrows in many of the foes."

"Elros!" Elrond tried to sit up, but Cirulian's hand kept him firmly horizontal.

"Do not move Elrond. Elros is alive." Elrond felt for his bond to his brother, but the throbbing of his head masked any sign.

"I was stationed in the tree as an archer." Cirulian nodded encouragingly. Elrond's hand reached over to touch the bandage on his left arm. "Another archer was hit, then a knife caught me here. I fought the orc in the tree. I killed him, but we fell." His voice trailed off. "That is all I remember."

"It explains a lot. We found you on top of the orc. You are lucky that it seems to have broken your fall."

"How did you find us?"

"There have been more incursions of late. We have increased the number of patrols. Still the enemy slips through our nets into Beleriand." Seeing Elrond's confusion, Cirulian quickly added more. "The King sent me out to look for you. We stumbled on the battle. Your group had nearly defeated your attackers, which I might add, far outnumbered you."

"Elros?"

"He sleeps now. He had a shallow wound on his side, nothing life-threatening. He will be fine." Elrond relaxed at the news, and his eyes closed.

"Elrond try to stay awake." Cirulian urged. The warrior started to tell about preparations for the winter festival, but his words were drowned out by the buzzing noise in Elrond's head, and he sank into darkness. The sun was warming him the next time he woke.

"Do you think we can move the others today?" Elros was asking.

"We might be able to travel later this afternoon. There are several wounded men that we are trying to stabilize.

Also, I am not sure about your brother. His head injury is the only issue, as he should not be jostled too much. The other seriously injured can be readily transported in litters."

"Has he woken yet?"

"He was up briefly last night and gradually recalled the events."

"That is a good sign. He fell from the tree?"

"He said that he fought an orc up there, and they fell together. I removed the knife from the orc's chest. It appeared as if the orc broke his fall." Cirulian drew in a sharp breath, trying to shake the memory of finding the still form of the elfling, covered in black blood, lying next to the orc.

"We were lucky that you found us."

"You were severely outnumbered. Yet, you withstood a large force on your own." Cirulian said, obviously impressed. "Your men are well-trained and disciplined."

"The archers took down the greatest number of foes," Elros said slowly. "They also were the casualties."

"Did you send your best archers into the trees?"

"Yes," Elros replied, grief and guilt evident. "And I almost lost my brother."

"You made wise tactical decisions. You are an able and talented commander. I do not know if I could have withstood such a lopsided attack. The archers must have killed nearly thirty foes on their own. Your small group, what twelve or so on the ground, held their own and emerged victorious. You gave all your warriors their best chance at survival." Cirulian stated firmly.

"Yes, but none of us escaped unscathed, and three of our number are dead." Elros lamented.

"And yet, you could have all easily perished outnumbered as you were," Cirulian said solemnly. "Shall we bury the dead here?"

"Dead?" Elrond croaked.

"Elrond!" Elros turned towards his brother. "You are awake!" Elrond turned his head slightly towards Elros, though the fuzzy outline was not as recognizable as his voice.

"Dead?" Elrond repeated weakly.

"I am afraid that both the other archers, Istvan and Sandor were killed as well as Sandor's brother Sindar." Elros said solemnly, not knowing how else to break the news. "There are many injuries but no further deaths." Elrond struggled to sit up, but Elros held him firmly down.

"Do not try to sit up." He ordered, keeping a firm but gentle hand on Elrond's cheek. "At least not unless you can correctly tell me how many fingers I am holding up." Elrond squinted and tried to focus on the hand before him, but he could not make out any individual fingers. He closed his eyes in defeat. Elros chuckled slightly in victory.

"Your head is grossly misshapen with a bump as large as a goose egg!" He teased. "Do not worry the concussion will pass. You will soon be well. Cirulian has orders to see you safely to Mithlond. Thank you, brother. Your accuracy with the bow saved many lives." Cirulian handed Elros a cup.

"My bow!" Elrond startled trying to remember what had happened to it.

"We retrieved it." Elros soothed.

"Drink this Elrond. It will help with the swelling, inflammation, and headache." He and Cirulian slowly tilted Elrond's head, but even this simple movement caused consciousness to flee. Elros gasped as he saw Elrond's eyes roll back, and his brother faint dead away, his breathing momentarily stopping. Seconds passed as the color drained away from Elrond's features. Elros heart raced with fear. He gently touched the injury and concentrated on sending Elrond some of his strength through their bond. Cirulian's eyes widened in astonishment as he saw Elrond visibly strengthen beneath his brother's touch, the young elf's breathing steadying and his color returning. Elros felt his brother's pain ease slightly and tried to focus on healing.

"Your brother healed the Queen with such a touch. It was a near thing." Cirulian observed. "You have the healing touch too?" Elros blinked and withdrew his hand, staring at it in wonder.

"I have never tried before," Elros said truthfully. "Perhaps our twin bond allowed me to aid him." The bump, while still sizeable, had noticeably decreased. Elrond's eyes blinked open, confusion evident in the cloudy gray orbs.

"Elrond, can you hear me?" Elros' voice was tense and worried. Minutes passed with no response. Cirulian and Elros exchanged worried glances.

"Elros?" The faint but steady voice finally answered.

"Elrond" Elros clutched his brother's hand, relieved to hear even this weak voice. "Can you drink a little?" The silver eyes blinked. Elros worried about how slowly the request was processed.

"Yes." Cirulian quickly located a spoon. Then Elros carefully dripped the mixture into his brother's mouth waiting patiently for Elrond to swallow. They would not risk moving him again. Fear filled him each time he saw the silver eyes close.

"Elrond, you must not sleep." Elros instructed.

"I will arrange for a litter for Elrond. We should transport him and the other injured to safety as soon as we have stabilized them." Cirulian placed a hand supportively on Elros' shoulder. Elros nodded as the elven warrior left. Slowly, ever so slowly, he coaxed the draught into his brother, closely studying the pale features for any signs of improvement. Gradually, the silver eyes cleared and focused.

"Elros?" The soft voice was much steadier now.

"I'm here. How do you feel?"

"Trying to get me drunk is not a worthy endeavor." He chided. "I don't think I want any more wine - ever. I have a terrible hangover. Hurts. So tired." The soft voice trailed off as Elrond's eyes closed. Elros stared open-mouthed at his brother, who was obviously remembering events from the previous week. Relief filled him as he realized Elrond felt much stronger and had passed into a deep healing sleep.

"How is he?" Cirulian voice asked, fearful that Elrond was again unconscious.

"Fear not, he is in healing sleep. I think he is going to be alright." Elros said.

Chapter 18: Arriving Home

Chapter Text

Cirulian kept the final watch. Thankfully, it had been an uneventful night. Perhaps they could to return to Mithlond today. Although he anticipated it would take approximately seven hours given the difficulties of transporting so many injured. Cirulian noticed that elves were beginning to stir within the camp. He was surprised to see one of the Peredhel sitting up against the tree at the far side of the compound. His heart froze when he realized which Peredhel it was. He quickly woke Durgin.

"Durgin it is nearly dawn." His friend stirred and quickly came to full wakefulness.

"What is it?"

"I need to check on Eärendil's sons. Please take over the watch." Durgin nodded, and Cirulian swiftly crossed the camp. He marveled at his own feelings. "I'm being a mother hen." He chastised himself, but he could not shake the image of the unconscious boy from his mind. Elrond's eyes slowly turned towards him.

"Elrond, should you be sitting up?"

"Cirulian?" Elrond's voice sounded puzzled. Cirulian sat down next to him.

"How do you feel?" The youth squinted, struggling to decide if he should disclose his injuries.

"My head pains me." He admitted softly.

"I should think so. You fell from that tree. You suffered a concussion." He pointed, though he noted that Elrond did not move his head to look up.

"Elves don't fall from trees." Elrond stated in disbelief. Cirulian drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"There is no shame if it happens while fighting an orc twenty feet above the ground." He watched Elrond's eyes widen first in disbelief, then confusion and finally light up with memory. Cirulian said a silent prayer in thanks.

"I remember." Elrond raised a hand to tentatively trace the contusion on his forehead. The dawn light was creeping across the clearing.

"Let me look at you more carefully." Cirulian gently steadied Elrond's head and looked deeply into his eyes, trying to assess the severity of his concussion. The swelling was still significant, though it appeared to have diminished somewhat overnight. Those so unusual silver eyes were shadowed and unfocused. Purple bruises were now evident on Elrond's forehead, cheek, and neck.

"Can you see clearly?"

"I can see you." His speech was faintly slurred. "But beyond the world is hazy."

"Hopefully, your vision will improve shortly."

"Elros?" Cirulian puzzled over Elrond's question.

"He sleeps beside you." Again Elrond did not attempt to turn his head and Cirulian moved behind him and

examined his neck, massaging out the tension and soothing the locked muscles. Given the distance of the fall and the likely impact that Elrond's head must have had on the chain mail or metal helmet, these side effects were not unexpected.

"How did you get here?" Elrond questioned. Cirulian continued to massage the muscles. He hoped Elrond would remember on his own. He tried to recall the symptoms associated with concussions.

"Do you not remember?" Elrond did not respond. Cirulian gently tilted Elrond's head a fraction to the side, rotating and manipulating the neck muscles while being careful to keep Elrond's head steady and supported. He halted when Elrond moaned softly.

"Elrond, what are you doing sitting up?" Elros nearly yelled.

"Since when do I need permission to sit?" Elrond said in exasperation, his speech now better articulated. Cirulian could not help but laugh. This time, Elrond turned his head awkwardly to glare at him. "My head hurts, and my neck is sore, but otherwise,I feel alright."

"Then tell us, what is the last thing you remember?" Cirulian challenged.

"I was fighting an overweight orc." Elrond said sarcastically. "The branch we were on broke. That is the last thing I remember before waking up this morning. What have I missed?" Elros and Cirulian exchanged anxious glances, then proceeded to fill Elrond in on recent events. Both pointedly left out any description of the more heart-stopping moments.

"Yesterday? I don't recall any of that." He frowned in bewilderment. "A concussion? I have had broken bones and sword wounds but never a concussion. Is memory loss a common symptom?" Cirulian was too stunned to answer initially. Elrond stretched and observed his companions. They seemed to expect him to pass out or worse.

"It is just a headache now." Elrond chided. "I have survived far worse." He added truthfully, a fact that neither of them could dispute.

"Perhaps I'll get you some willow bark tea." Cirulian said.

"Is there any food?" Elrond asked, hopefully moving slowly to get up. To his surprise two weights held him firmly down: Cirulian pressed down on one of his shoulders and Elros on the other.

"Sit!" They both commanded in voices that brokered no argument.

"I will bring some waybread. You are not to stand up." Cirulian ordered. "I wish to see you reach your majority according to the count of elves. With what has happened to you in a single year, I am not sure I have the stamina to survive the next twenty-five years."

"Elrond, I couldn't bear the thought of losing you," Elros whispered.

"I could not imagine life without you either," Elrond admitted. "But let us not worry over things we have no control of. In the here and now, we are both alive and mostly well." He studied Elros' bandages.

"Were others injured?"

"Yes, all those that survived suffered some sort of injury." Elros confirmed.

"You were also injured in the battle?"

"Nothing as dramatic as falling out of a tree while hugging an orc." Elros teased.

Elrond grimaced. "Please do not spread that rumor. Your men already look at me strangely as if they must tolerate me as your eccentric brother." Elros laughed and began to fill him in on how the battle had progressed on the ground.

"Seriously, brother, if not for your precision shooting, many more would be dead."

"We recovered your bow and quiver from the tree," Cirulian added just returning with the healing draught and some breakfast. "We are planning on leaving in half an hour. It will be a slow journey back to Mithlond, but we should arrive today."

After much protests, Cirulian and Elros begrudgingly compromised and allowed Elrond to ride on horseback as long as he rode with one of them and wore a stiff bandage to support his neck. Elrond sighed and had little choice but to comply. The rocking motion of the horse made him dizzy.

"Rest elfling. I will wake you every few hours." Cirulian soothed, pulling Elrond to lean back against him.

Exhausted, the Peredhel slipped in and out of sleep. The willow bark draught controlled much of the pain, though an annoying buzzing and blurry vision remained. He made a mental note to speak with Noenri later sans his overprotective guardians. Unfortunately, Cirulian and Elros led him directly to the house of healing and practically pushed him into a bed before running off to summon Noenri.

Elrond was relieved to have a moment of privacy to remove the offending neck brace. He stuffed it under the bed and laid back down, glad for a moment's rest. Outside the room Elros, Cirulian and Noenri conferred, the ringing of their voices throbbed in time with his head. He closed his eyes in exhaustion.

"I am pleased to finally meet you, Elros Eärendilion. I knew your parents quite well." Noenri said. "I took care of your Mother when she was ill. Worry not I will take good care of Elrond. He is well loved here. Thank you for the detailed description of his injuries. Now, you both should go rest. Elros, Mistress Silsilalda will check your injury." He gave Silsi a nod. She guided them both away from the room.

"Well elfling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Noenri mused aloud, but Elrond did not answer. Upon further examination, he found Elrond slipping in and out of consciousness. After a thorough assessment including

an inspection of the stitches that closed the knife wound on his arm, he ordered several healing draughts and applied salves to Elrond's head and neck. The motion drew Elrond fully awake. He stared at Noenri in surprise, momentarily unsure of how he had gotten here.

"Noenri?" It was almost a shout as if the elfling had background noise to contend with.

"How do you feel elfling?" Elrond looked at him wide-eyed as if he did not comprehend the question. Smiling encouragingly at the youth, he maneuvered him to a more upright position to more easily administer the healing draughts. He spread a numbing salve over Elrond's temples and over the still sizeable contusion. Silsilalda returned with a cold compress and applied it to the area. Slowly, the buzzing in Elrond's head receded.

"Do you hear a loud humming in your head?" Elrond nodded in confirmation.

"Your vision?" Noenri probed.

"It is getting better, but distant things are blurred."

"Have you recovered any memories from the day following the battle?"

"No," Elrond admitted.

"You have suffered a serious concussion. Do not risk any activities where you could collide, fall, or receive any kind of blow or jolt to your head. In fact, I should lock you in a padded room with all the books you desire." He laughed at Elrond's horrified expression.

"But seriously, Elrond, considering the events of the last year, please relax in the relative safety of your room.

Keep away from any activities that might be hazardous. Silsi and I will check on you intermittently. If any of your symptoms worsen, let others know right away." Elrond nodded.

"Definitely no running or training this week." He watched Elrond processing this information. "I will inform your guardians of these conditions. Silsilalda will bring healing draughts to you." Elrond rolled his eyes and yawned.

Noenri bit back a smirk. Yes, better those guardians keep tabs on this one than his healers. He watched the silver eyes close in sleep. Then turned to find where Cirulian and Elros were waiting. After much protests from the pair

Silsilalda had directed them to a smaller sitting room.

"You will wait here until Master Noenri has finished his examination." She ordered, then upon seeing the bandages on the other Peredhel, she added. "Let me check and change your dressings." She firmly pushed Elros into a chair and disappeared for a moment, bringing a bowl of hot water, salves, and bandages. She helped Elros remove his shirt and inspected the five-inch slit that decorated his side. Silver stitches held the bottom third closed where the wound had been deeper. It showed signs of infection at the top edge but was healing well. She bathed and spread antiseptic and healing salves over it and was just binding it when they heard a small group approaching. The Queen and King entered the room. Cirulian bowed politely.

"Do not get up Elros." Ereinion directed. "I would like to introduce my wife, Indiriel."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Elros. Elrond has told me much about you." Indiriel smiled and kissed Elros on the cheek. Elros sat in awe of her beauty, completely distracted from Silsilalda's attention. The healer smiled and gently buttoned his tunic.

"My Lord, my Lady," Silsilalda bowed to her King and Queen. "Elros is healing well. The wound should mend in a week. Gil-Galad thanked and dismissed her.

"Elros, what happened?"

"Our journey had been uneventful. There had been no signs of warning except moments before the attack when Elrond and I heard the trees whisper. I had enough time to station three archers in the trees while the rest of us took up defensive positions around their bases." Elros said tiredly. "Then a group of Easterlings attacked. It was a group of about thirty. They were single-minded in their intent to destroy us."

"Did you recognize any from the council?" Elros shook his head.

"The Easterlings are splintered into many different factions. There were none that I recognized."

"A second group, this one orcs arrived. The Easterlings were obviously allied with them."

"They were outnumbered by more than three to one but had nearly won the battle when we came upon them." Cirulian interjected.

"The archers were efficient in bringing down many of our attackers. But in the swell of the enemy forces, our swordsmen were pushed away from our position leaving them vulnerable. Orcs overtook them in the trees. Elrond was the only archer to survive." Elros voice wavered, and he paused for a moment.

"Apparently, he struggled with an orc in the tree, killing it before they both fell." Indiriel drew in a tense breath.

"He is alright, my Lady." Elros added quickly. "He has a concussion but was already making light of it this morning." Noenri interrupted the discussion.

"King Gil-Galad and Lady Indiriel." He bowed before them. "The elfling is resting. He will recover fully." Noenri relayed his instructions concerning Elrond and assessed Elros' bandages with keen eyes. "You may wake him and guide him back to his room. I release him to your charge. You will excuse me when I say that I hope not to see much more of the sons of Eärendil. Tell me that you are less prone to injuries." Elros raised his brow in question.

"Cirulian has assigned a guard to Elrond even here around the palace. I am afraid that even here, I have been unable to keep your brother out of harm's reach." Gil-Galad said solemnly.

"Even I could not keep him from harm." Elros lamented.

"You did well in command of your patrol and in protecting your warriors on this journey."

"All those under my command were injured in the battle, and there were three deaths. But you were right Gil- Galad, Elrond is more than capable of protecting himself." He disclosed more descriptions of the battle as well as

Elrond's brush with danger in Baath. The other elves gasped.

Xxxxxx

Someone was calling. Persistently calling him back from his safe resting place. A soft hand brushed his cheek, so gentle and caring.

"Elrond, dear one, wake up," Indiriel called. It had been nearly two days since Elrond had arrived. They had tried to wake him many times and were beginning to worry. Thankfully, the pale face responded to her call, a small smile breaking over the youthful features.

"Elrond, it is time to wake up," she said again. He leaned into her touch, slowly opening his eyes. The room was shadowed. Noenri suggested that they keep it dim as Elrond recovered. Elves suffering from concussions were often sensitive tolight. His silver orbs focused on her. She smiled in welcome and brushed his cheek with a gentle kiss.

"Greetings elfling. It is good to have you back home." He smiled openly at that thought. Elros chuckled.

"Small wonder that you would not stir for me when you could have such a jewel wake you." The King punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Elros said loudly. "My Lady, you must do something about this husband of yours!"

"How do you feel?" Ereinion asked.

"Tired of answering the same question." Elrond grinned.

"Then do not get injured again," Ereinion said

"I will endeavor not to, my King." Elrond grinned. "Perhaps I should spar more often and train harder. Maybe later today."

"No!" Came many voices all at once. Elrond laughed and sat up slowly. Indiriel fluffed the pillows behind him.

"I am truly grateful for all your concern. It is good to be home."

Chapter 19: Yule

Chapter Text

Erestor headed towards the royal quarters, although he felt daunted by the elegance and grandeur that filled the corridor. He came to the last set of guards, who questioned him and checked for weapons. Erestor sighed briefly, wondering if such high security was indeed necessary, but then he remembered the earlier attempts on Elrond's life. One attempt was by poison if the rumors were correct. The second assassination attempt by the traitor Sarniel, now incarcerated and awaiting sentencing. Sarniel's trial had been divisive. The High King had shielded Elrond from the public using the elf's tender age to keep him out of the proceedings. The young elf was summoned for only one-day of testimony. Still, the survivors of Sirion crowded the court and the surrounding grounds pining for even a glimpse of their beloved Lord's son. Erestor remembered how shocked his friend had been at the outpouring of love and support from these elves still loyal to his parents. Unfortunately, there was a second contingent of elves that shared Sarniel's views on the mixed heritage of the Peredhil. Their prejudices were clear. The royal guard was hard-pressed to keep the two groups separate. Erestor had attended some of the trial and was shaken by the animosity toward his friend.

"You may proceed," the guard said, interrupting Erestor's thoughts. Elrond's room is the third one on the left.

Erestor nodded and walked slowly down the corridor. He knocked on the door and heard Laeste calling for Elrond.

"Elrond, young one, come back to me." Her voice commanded. "Elrond, it is in the past. Let it go." Erestor could see that Elrond's face was bathed in perspiration, his features strained against some terror. Laeste's touch and voice seemed to calm and soothe him, and slowly, the strain melted away from his visage as he settled back into a calm sleep.

"Erestor" Laeste greeted softly. "Sit down dear." Erestor placed the pile of books he was carrying on the table.

"Is he alright?"

"He will be fine and will wake soon. It is just a night terror. He used to have them much more frequently. It is not uncommon among those who have suffered through traumatic events." Erestor's mouth hung open in surprise.

"I have never known him to be afraid of anything. He even endured lessons with the Lady Galadriel." The young elf blurted out. Laeste looked at him with a scrutinizing glare.

"It does not change the fact that he is very brave." She stated, assessing the young Noldor before her. "He is a good friend of yours."

"Yes, of course." Erestor said.

"Has he ever mentioned what he endured in Amon Ereb?" Laeste asked.

"No, though I have heard rumors that the Feanorians were abusive to the Peredhil."

"Then I ask you to guard his secret. The elves of Amon Ereb were physically abusive to Elrond. It is a near thing that he managed to survive ten years in such a situation." Erestor drew in a sharp breath. "I think the only people he has talked about this with Ereinion and me and perhaps also Cirdan," she added. The figure on the bed stirred.

"He has overcome much even in just this past year, but still, these experiences at times trouble his dreams." They both fell silent, contemplating the young elf before them. Elrond slowly stretched and woke.

"Laeste" Elrond said in surprise. "You need not stay here all the time."

"Good morning, Elrond. It is my pleasure to watch over you once in a while." Laeste leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, careful to avoid the purple bruises. "I will go bring you some breakfast, elfling. By the way, you have a visitor."

She helped Elrond to sit up, propping pillows behind his back. That the young one closed his eyes for several moments as she moved him was in itself telling. Erestor could see Elrond straining to recognize him. He moved closer to take Laeste's seat.

"Obviously, you can not yet see well enough." Laeste added in a serious tone. "I do not want to hear any requests to go outside today!" She ordered.

"Good morning Elrond." Erestor kept his voice jolly though his heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw the bruises that colored the pale face and neck.

"Erestor!" Elrond exclaimed, recognizing his voice. "How are you? It is good to see you, my friend." Erestor made a sound akin to a snort at that comment, though Elves, of course, do not snort.

"How are you feeling? I heard that you suffered a concussion in a battle."

"It looks worse than it is, judging by people's reactions. Really, it is just a bad headache and some vision problems. I doubt that I could see the target for archery practice. Luckily, I have no trouble reading or seeing things close up. Have you ever experienced a concussion?"

"Actually, when I was but eight I, climbed the riggings of Cirdan's boat as we traveled to Balar. Much to my parents' horror, I slipped and fell to the deck. It took several days before my head stopped ringing."

"I had the misfortune to fall from a tree while fighting an orc. I am not sure Elros will ever stop teasing me about it." Elrond sighed.

"I picked out some books you might enjoy."

"Really? Thank you! At this rate, I am sure it will be another week before I am allowed out of the palace again." Elrond complained. "Perhaps I can convince them to let us at least go out to the gardens."

"Truly, this does not seem like such a prison." Erestor chided. Elrond just sighed.

"Image your Mother at her most protective and multiply her by six. Six overprotective guardians!" Elrond lamented. Erestor chuckled at that thought.

"I'm sure sometime in the future, you will no doubt play the role of the overprotective guardian. Then I will be reminding you of this day." Erestor teased then quickly changed the subject. "Did you and Elros spar in Baath?" Elrond nodded.

"How did you fare?" He and Erestor were sparring partners. Elrond had disclosed his goal of finally besting his brother.

"I came a lot closer last time and almost cornered him twice, but Elros still won. He is stronger than I am." Elrond groaned. "For my loss, I had to sing for them that evening." Erestor laughed and retrieved a book from the table.

"I did not know that you sang." Erestor said.

"That tells you just how much I enjoy singing for an audience." Elrond paused. "I will make an except for a bunch of drunken dwarves, singing for them was not so terrible."

"Perhaps this might interest you." He handed Elrond a very old book written in Quenyan.

"Sword techniques and strategies!" Elrond's eye lit up. "Well, this could be interesting."

"Once you are well, we could attempt the most cunning ones." Erestor's eyes sparkled. "I've marked two possibilities, though, I do not think that I am as yet skilled enough to execute them, but you definitely are." Elrond's smile melted away as his eyes turned dark with memory.

"Elrond?"

"What about the plans for evacuating Balar? Are Calimdriel and your Mother safe?" His voice was edged with fear.

"We have been implementing our plan to lure as many people from the island as possible. Cirdan estimates that already, more than two-thirds of the population has come to Mithlond to help erect houses for the refuges, aid in shipbuilding, or just for the festival. My Mother and sister arrived last week and plan to stay for the next two months."

"You must rest and recover, Elrond." Laeste observed as she carried in a tray filled with fruits and breads as well as small bowls of quark and two cups of tea. "Yule is only two weeks away; you would not want to miss the celebrations." She set the tray on the bed.

"You elflings look like you could both use a good breakfast."

Xxxxxxxxx The first night of the Yule festival xxxxxxxxxX

They stood outside in the darkness, the cool breeze kissing their faces as anticipation raced through the crowd. In the distance, a spark flickered then grew into a roaring fire. The circle of light rose and floated towards them, carried by a runner. The High King and Queen stood at the center of the circle of the gathered elves chanting ancient verses that signified the birth of the sun, the great gift of light and life bestowed on the fortunate children of Ilúvatar. The circle parted, allowing the runner to enter and pass the torch to the King, who bent and lit touched the torch into a large cauldron that ignited immediately, bursting into a huge flame, representing the sacred fire of Eru. The crowd sang as one, their beautiful voices rising and echoing in praise and worship. After the ritual, the crowd moved a short distance inside the Great Hall. Its many doors were open to the garden, now brilliantly lit by the sacred flame. Inside, the Yule celebration of light and warmth continued. The meal featured a breathtaking assortment of traditional foods, some with origins so ancient that they may have been eaten by the elves present at the first awakening.

Ereinion slowly savored his wine, content in the company of his beloved wife and dear friends. The dancers swirled around the Great Hall in a dazzling array of colors. Usually, Yule was just one day, but given both Elrond's and Ereinion's foreboding visions, coupled with the lack of methods to either detect or protect his subjects on Balar, Ereinion had approved the development of this week-long festival. Given all the dire reports from the fields concerning Morgoth's advances and the influx of refugees this week, the Yule celebration seemed to spark hope among the people of all kindreds. It proved the most persuasive method for luring people off the island.

Indiriel took special delight in its planning and implementation. Merwen and Cirdan had kept careful tabs on Elves leaving the Isle, and by all estimates, there were less than five hundred elves remaining in the danger zone as of three days ago. Last week Cirdan had taken the unprecedented step of announcing the impending danger to those left on the island.

"I had not dared to hope to see the sons of Eärendil healthy and happy after the destruction we saw at Sirion." Cirdan mused. The brothers had been given clean bills of health from Noenri last week and were back to normal activities.

Elros appeared to love the dance as much as his brother. This Peredhel's swashbuckling nature greatly appealed to the ellith. Elros, dark and somehow yet more exotic than his brother, seemed to have a new partner for each dance.

Elrond, now in his element, emboldened by the presence of his brother and swept up by the celebration, was also rarely without a partner. Cirdan could not miss the similarities between the two as well as the fact that each was bolstered and strengthened by their unusual twin connection. Celeborn and Galadriel glided up to stand beside him.

"Happy Yule" The Lady greeted. "May the year ahead be blessed with good fortune." She leaned to kiss the Mariner as Celeborn embraced him next. Galadriel followed his gaze out towards the dance floor, smiling when she saw the two sons of Eärendil. One could tell that they were brothers. They shone with a light

that Galadriel had not seen since Doriath, a light reminiscent of Melian, Luthien, and Dior. It was the light of the Maiar.

"So Elros Eärendilion has arrived as well. Is he much like his brother?" She asked the Mariner.

"Alike in some ways and in others as different as day and night." Cirdan answered. She watched Elrond, who appeared markedly younger than his brother. He looked up realizing that she was watching him and whispered to his partner, a dark-haired elleth, who smiled at him with the eyes of a sister. Together they stepped out of the circle and walked towards her.

"How are you, young one?" Came Galadriel's voice in his head.

"I am well." He returned and, with a strong trust and loyalty, opened his mind to her, his teacher. She probed carefully this time, unwilling to disturb the wounds deep within him on this Yule eve. She felt a new strength within him, a mending of his Fëa that was obviously due to his reconciliation with his brother Elros. She sensed the power that flowed between them, strengthening each individually, much like another set of twins that she had known in Aman. They both had to deal with the repercussions of inheriting traits from Maiar, Men and Elves and were struggling to forge their own unique place in a world that was not accepting of such duality. In Elrond, she still felt the pain that emanated from other wounds, but there was now a peace and tranquility within him that came from his ties to his new family, to Indiriel, Ereinion, and Cirdan as well as to a new circle of friends here in Mithlond. The great resilience and beauty of his spirit left her astonished.

"Happy Yule!" Elrond sang, greeting her now with a gentle hug and light kiss. The young elleth bowed and gave a polite greeting, though with some trepidation, as she was in awe of this noble Lady.

"Greetings Calimdriel, I wish you much happiness this Yule, child." Calimdriel tried to conceal her astonishment at the fact that the Lady had not only recognized her but also knew her by name.

"It is fitting that you and your brother Erestor should befriend the son of Eärendil as your parents were close friends of his parents." Came Galadriel musical voice in her mind. Calimdriel looked over at Elrond but if he had heard the comments, he gave no sign. "And fitting that one who has suffered so long without family and friends should find himself adopted by many, even sporting a sister and another brother." For her part, Calimdriel could do naught but stand flabbergasted.

"Enjoy the festivities!" Galadriel laughed, effectively dismissing the youths. The pair had only been gone a few minutes when Elros approached her.

"Elros Eärendilion, it is a pleasure to meet you, young one." She felt Celeborn's intrigue and knew he moved towards them, curiosity attracting him.

"Lady Galadriel," Elros boldly took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Your beauty is even more stunning than any description." The silver lord appeared at his Lady's side. Galadriel reached out to assess this son of Eärendil, but, as she had discovered on her first meeting with Elrond, Elros could also effectively shield his thoughts from her. Elros gifted her a provocative smile as he rebuffed her with his mind.

"Elros, you carry yourself much like Tuor, your grandfather." Celeborn remarked.

"Lord Celeborn, it is good to meet you." Elros extended his hand in the tradition of men pointedly forgoing a bow, the custom of elves. "Allow me to steal your wife for this dance." It was a statement, not a request. Elros turned his full attention back to the golden Lady.

"My Lady," This time he bowed both low and elegantly. "Allow me the pleasure of your company for this dance." He extended his arm, and she ghosted her hand on top of it smiling mysteriously.

"Surely my silver King can forgo one dance." Galadriel laughed as Elros guided the ethereal beauty towards the dance floor.

"Cheeky bastard!" Came Celeborn's voice scornfully in her mind. She had to bite back her laugh.

The evening progressed joyfully. Indiriel had been worried that the Peredhil might stand out in the royal gathering especially Elros, who was so audacious and displayed many traits of his Edain ancestors. But she had not realized how utterly charming and gallant this youth was. If any at the gathering held animosity against the half-elves, it did not surface this eve. The Peredhil had retreated to a table filled with young elves in the corner. Three of the sons of Oropher were among them, as well as Erestor and his sister and Lisbon and Ithriel, the daughters of Merwen. There were a few other young elves that she did not recognize either. Indiriel almost laughed aloud as she saw a golden-haired Lord walk over to join the young ones. Ereinion followed her gaze and gave a most unkingly smirk at the figure of Lord Gildor.

"So who will entertain us this eve?" Thranduil bellowed.

"Elrond can sing." Elros offered with a glint of mischief in his eyes. He had confided in Thranduil that his sole goal for the evening was to ensure his brother was duly inebriated.

"Not this night, my dear brother," Elrond said poignantly and took a deep sip of the enchanting wine. The room shimmered slightly due to the alcohol he had consumed, but it had only been two glasses. He was sure that he could handle it. Elrond could not remember ever feeling so relaxed and happy. His brother and his new family and friends surrounded him. He knew this was one of those special days he would treasure his entire life.

Gildor pulled up a chair next to Libson, gallantly introducing himself. Next came the outrageous stories amid the grunts and guffaws of the tipsy young elves, who were uninhibited enough to give their truthful assessment of Gildor's tales. Gildor, with his usual flair, just launched into yet more unbelievable stories. Elros was especially scathing in his comments, though glee glinted in his eyes as he again topped off Elrond's glass when his brother turned to answer Ithriel.

"Elrond!" Gildor nearly yelled. "It is your brother that you must protect yourself from." The others who had been exchanging anxious looks as they realized Elros' pursuit blurted out their admissions.

"Elros keep topping off your glass when you are distracted," Calimdriel warned. Elrond rolled his eyes in mock disgust.

"You gave me your word that you were through with such petty endeavors."

"What? You remember? I was sure that your concussion had blocked out that promise. You have heard how my dashing brother sustained a concussion, did you not?" Elros slurred. In truth, he had imbibed far too much. The other elves immediately called for the 'true' story according to Elros while Elrond tried to dissuade them. No one could recall the hour when families came to collect the elves around the table. But all hugged familiarly and said their goodbyes. Cirdan guided his two wards back to their chambers and made them drink copious amounts of water before leaving them to sleep.

Chapter 20: Tragedy Avoided

Chapter Text

The third event of the Yule festival took place down in the Havens on an expansive beach just a few miles east of port. The sun was just beginning to dip into the horizon. Traditional dance music floated over the scene. Groups of elves were preparing to light bonfires. The act of inviting friends to feast together around a bonfire was symbolic of forming new bonds of kinship. Elrond was a little late in arriving and had slipped off his shoes, preferring to walk barefoot in the surf rather than weave his way through the crowd. He could see Indiriel and Ereinion in the distance. The sea pulled back, exposing more beach and rocks than ever before. A shudder passed through Elrond as the sea jogged the memory of the vision. A brief wave of nausea buffeted him, but he fought back against the feeling, trying to keep control. The wave, he instinctively knew, was at that moment sweeping across Balar. The Island was far from the Havens, too far to see. Were they safe here? Would the wave reach here? Suddenly he knew that the barrier island would shield the mainland from much of the destructive force, but smaller waves could still reachthis beach, filled with elves, humans, and dwarves of all ages.

"Ereinion! The wave is coming!" He shouted so loud that it interrupted the musicians. The High King turned meeting Elrond's eyes, and horror filled him as he understood the meaning of the warning. Elrond stepped forward and shouted in a loud, clear voice that rang out into the distance.

"Quickly! Move away from the sea! Retreat to higher ground!" Elrond commanded. Ereinion hesitated for just a moment, then grabbed Indiriel's hand and signaled to his guards to carry out Elrond's orders.

"Clear the beach!" The High King commanded, and the guards echoed his command. Thousands of elves moved ina confused mass away from the water. Elrond was at the back of the crowd closest to the ocean when heard an elleth screaming loudly.

"Lothri! Where are you?" He turned and saw a glint of silver near the water's edge.

There played a little child, a mere toddler. He sprinted back to the water, quickly picking her up and holding her tightly against his chest.

"Hold your breath when the wave comes Lothri!" He assumed it was the toddler's name. He turned and started up the beach, but with a mighty roar, the wave engulfed them, pushing him under the water. Something crashed hard against his back, perhaps wood or some other debris. He lost his footing and hit the sand, still cradling the child in his arms. For several frightening moments, all sound seemed to cease as he struggled to stand and regain his

footing. Perhaps the wave had been several feet above his head. He estimated nine feet total. He felt the water bite at his shins as the strong undertow sought to claim them. He knew that most adult elves would be unharmed by the wave, but that children like Lothri were in danger. As soon as their heads emerged from the water, the child in his arms began screaming for her Naneth through loud and uncontrollable sobs. Dazed and drenched, he struggled up to higher ground, his brain too numb to summon words to soothe the distraught child.

"How many had just died in Balar?" The thought made him physically ill.

"Lothri! My Lothri!" An elleth ran towards him, grasping the child from his arms. "Lothri, you are safe my dear!"

The elleth eyes met his. Unspoken thanks traveled between them as they entered into the stunned and panicked crowd huddled above the water line. The King's guards were doing their best to calm and guide the people away from the water in case any more waves were imminent. They were setting up sentries to look for the missing and reunite families separated in the chaos. Elrond, soaked and stunned, knew none of this. His eyes scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Disorientated, he tried to move in the direction of Cirdan's house. So many elves surroundedhim, and somehow, he recognized no one.

"Elrond!" Screamed someone.

"Elrond!" Calimdriel embraced him, shaking with fear. She was crying and trembling. She had run towards the only familiar figure she could find, instinctively clinging to him.

"Elrond!' She cried again, drawing attention to them both.

"Calimdriel, are you alright?" Elrond said hoarsely, the young elleth was obviously traumatized and in need of comfort. Her need drove his own fears from his mind. "It is alright. Everything will be alright."

"I can not find Erestor! There are so many people here." She shivered, frightened by the large crowd.

"Come, let's find the others." Sensing danger, Elrond shifted Calimdriel towards his left side and wrapped a comforting, if somewhat soggy, arm around her shoulder. They moved slowly through the crowd, buffeted by the sheer number that were tightly clustered away from the now-flooded shoreline.

"Balar?" She sobbed, knowing that there was nothing left of her home that this was the destructive wave that Elrond had foreseen.

"Towns can be rebuilt, fear not my Lady. The majority of elves had already evacuated the island." Elrond soothed though he had trouble believing his own words. He could feel danger approaching and tried to lead them more quickly away.

"It is him!" Shouted an unknown elf. "He shouted the warning. Maybe the Valar are angry that the half-breeds still live. Rumor has it that they have destroyed Balar." The crowd behind them shifted, forming an opening.

"Peredhel!" Someone behind him sneered, the voice vaguely slurred. "Do not touch the elleth, half-breed!" Calimdriel held on more tightly, intimidated by the angry voices.

"She is lost. I am escorting her back to her family." Elrond responded calmly and loudly to draw attention to their plight. Calimdriel trembled in fright at the mob behind them. "It is alright, my Lady. We will find your brother, Erestor."

"Peredhel your line carries ill omens. Is the rumor try that the Valar have destroyed our homes?"

"I have no answers." Elrond said calmly. "But it appears that the High King had some warning concerning Balar.

Are we not blessed that the island was mostly deserted today?" He was careful not to draw any extra attention to himself, as it was impossible to predict how these elves would react. Luckily, as if on queue, Erestor appeared, having heard his sister's call. Shock and alarm were clearly written on his face.

"Have you seen Calimdriel?" He relaxed momentarily upon seeing his sister but grew uneasy as he surveyed the ominous group of elves around them. Their eyes radiated hatred.

"A tragedy has befallen our people." Erestor shouted. "Now is the time to band together and help one another."

"He is not one of us." Someone yelled pointing at Elrond. The crowd murmured at the statement and edged closer.

"If you stand with him, you are a traitor."

"Erestor, take your sister home." Elrond directed. Erestor hesitated looking back and forth between Elrond and the instigators of this madness, an unseemly group of ten elves.

"Erestor! Go now!" He placed Calimdriel's hand securely in Erestor's and prodded Erestor away. The other elves watched them go.

"You have had too much to drink, my good elves." Elrond said calmly. "Go home. Our real enemy is Morgoth." The Elves stood silent in their hatred.

"I am going home too. I bid you good night." Elrond turned and walked steadily away. Two of the elves lunged towards him. One grasped the back of his tunic. Elrond rotated, kicking one of his attackers and then landing a punch squarely on the second. In the blink of an eye, the two elves lay prostrated on the ground in front of the Peredhel. The others in their group were stunned by their leader's failure.

"Take your friends home." Elrond ordered in a loud voice. "I say again. We are not enemies. Our common enemy is Morgoth. Let us not fight among ourselves. It is only united that we can be strong." Elrond's steely gaze caused the group to back up. Elrond knew that it was only a momentary reprieve and that he would be unable to outrun them. He hoped to reason with them or at least gain time for Erestor to send aid. He moved away steadily, not wanting to betray his fear. But they followed. The crowd, sensing their anger, parted to let them pass more quickly. One drunken elf was not a problem but the seven that still threatened him might yet be. The others advanced towards him, but he schooled himself not to show fear. Somehow Cirdan, Cirulian, and Durgin appeared at his side.

"Stand down." The Lord of the Havens boomed. "This is my ward. Harm but a hair on his head and you will not live to see the next sunrise." Confronted by the ancient Mariner the elves dissembled, nodding submissively.

"When you are sober you will formally and publicly apologize to Lord Elrond Eärendilion and the two other elves that you threatened this evening." Cirdan boomed. "Now, follow my guards Durgin and Cirulian to the sentry station." They bowed to the Mariner and followed his command.

"Elrond accompany me." Cirdan ordered and quickly made his way towards the docks. He grabbed Elrond by the arm to reassure himself that the young one was alive.

"Elrond, my heart nearly stopped beating when I saw you run towards that little child on the beach." Cirdan murmured. "I lost sight of you when the wave hit. Are you alright, young one?"

"As well as can be expected," Elrond replied, willing his body not to tremble. Every time he blinked his eyes the images of the wave sweeping houses, trees, and elves away came unbidden.

"Come, we will join in caring for the injured. Merwen estimated no more than two hundred left on the island this morning." The Mariner met Elrond's eyes squarely. "We evacuated well over nine thousand to safety, thanks to the visions that you and Ereinion were gifted." He saw Elrond shake at the mention of the vision.

"We could not force everyone to leave as much as we might have wanted to." They had reached the docks, and were astonished to find a number of the small boats smashed against the piers or tossed on the shore. Most of the large ships were thankfully undamaged. A group of sailors were clearing debris, and some ships were already scanning the bay, searching for elves that might have been pulled off the beach by the strong undertow. Two larger ships were already heading out in the direction of the island. Cirulian rejoined them, exchanging looks of worry with the Mariner over the elfling's blank eyes. Cirdan pulled Elrond through a doorway and pushed him into an empty chair. Elrond blinked, a bit disoriented and numb.

"There is nothing left of Balar." Elrond whispered not addressing anyone directly. Cirdan looked up at Elrond for a moment in confusion.

"You do not know that Elrond. There is some flooding down at the beach, similar to what we usually sustain with storm surges in the autumn. It is nothing we have not dealt with before, although it took us by surprise, given the sheer number of people on the beach today. We will travel to Balar to assess the damage soon enough." Cirdan said soothingly. The half-elf was too dazed to respond. Cirdan shook his head musing for a moment then he joined Cirulian at the desk. They would set sail shortly to survey the island and coordinate rescue missions.

"I sent Elros and his men out ahead as well as a few other ships filled with as many sailors as I could gather. If there are any survivors stranded in the water, we will find them." The Mariner told Cirulian as the two surveyed a map of the Havens and Balar. The Mariner poured three glasses of Miruvor and approached the trembling elfling.

"Some claim that they saw the Sirion River running backward," Cirulian said. "Could that be possible?"

"I do not know," Cirdan admitted. "In all my years, I have never observed such a wave. I can not guess at its true origin." Elrond shuddered at the thought that the Valar would destroy elves.

"There is nothing left of the island," Elrond whispered again. Cirdan tipped the youth's head up so he could see his eyes, which were blank and expressionless. He pressed a glass of Miruvor into Elrond's hand before taking a sip himself.

"Elrond, the vision you saw did not come to pass," Cirdan said firmly, looking the youth straight in the eye. "We evacuated almost everyone from the island. Remember, the Valar sent messages to warn us. We do not know the reasons for what happened. But we would not have received these warnings if their goal was to harm us." He watched the youth drink down the restorative.

"Join Silsilalda and the small group of healers at the Haven's House of Healing." He directed to both Elrond and Cirulian. The Mariner shot Cirulian a sharp look. The royal guard understood that top on his list of duties was to guard the son of Eärendil. "Aid the healers in whatever capacity they require. I must coordinate search and rescue efforts."

The sun was already beginning to dip below the horizon, when Cirdan and his crew set sail. Torches were lit around the edges of the deck. Elves were stationed at regular intervals to hunt for survivors. It would be dark all too soon. Then they would rely on that Ilúvatar blessed elven hearing to locate elves that might be in the water.

Cirdan walked along the deck, observing his crew. Most were numb with the shock of what had happened but were determined to aid their people in any way possible. A sudden dread swept through Cirdan as he recalled Elrond's prediction of what they would find upon reaching the island.

The moon had risen by the time Cirdan's ship approached within sight of where Balar had stood. The sky was now radiant with stars. The vivid colors stood in stark contrast to the emptiness that stretched out before them. There was no island left. For centuries the Isle of Balar had been a haven for so many thousands of refugees both of the

Elves and Edain. Now, nothing remained. There was no land to rebuild on. The water appeared too shallow for the larger boats to get close, and here and there small swaths of land poked through the water's surface. Five ships were spaced out around the emptiness that used to be Balar. Survivors clung to debris and a few lucky ones floated aimlessly in small fishing boats. In all, the boats managed to locate nearly fifty survivors, and some dead were also recovered. The morning sun rose too quickly affording a clear view of the consequences of that dreadfully destructive wave. Two of the other boats transferred injured to Cirdan's ship and set out again in search. Then mournfully, Cirdan turned his ship towards the Havens as new ships arrived from Mithlond to replace them.

Back on shore, the night had also passed quickly. Cirulian and Elrond were immediately pressed into service at the Haven's understaffed house of healing. The simple act of being needed seemed to imbue the youth with renew energy. Cirulian watched as the spark returned to the silver eyes. At first, they mainly helped set up more beds and retrieve and deliver supplies. As the injured arrived, they established a makeshift treatment center in the courtyard for those with more minor injuries. Elrond soon bandaged cuts and stitched minor wounds, finding that he was most needed to soothe and comfort. He coaxed sleeping draughts into mouths that trembled with dread and held the hands of their patients until they drifted off into sleep. The act of comforting others acted like a salve to his own soul, comforting him in return. The morning sun was rising when the influx of new patients finally slowed and stopped. Elrond collapsed into an uneasy rest in the corner of the courtyard.

Cirulian was surveying the injured that filled nearly every available space. He spied Elrond, who sat slumped against the wall, his eyes closed in exhaustion. Out of habit, Cirulian approached the elfling and assessed the youth's health, running his hand gently over his head, torso, and limbs. He found several deep bruises on the elfling's back but no other injuries. He gently rubbed healing salve over the now purple spots. The elfling stirred at the contact.

"What is wrong?" Came the dazed and tired voice.

"Come Elfling!" The guard said gently. "It is time to return to the palace." He helped the youth rise and together

they walked back up to the palace.

Xxxxxxxxx

The High King dismissed his council from their emergency meeting. Each of the members exited the room swiftly with renewed motivation. Ereinion, though, remained sitting, closing his eyes briefly and rubbing at his temples as if the action could alleviate his raging headache.

Cirdan left the council chambers slightly concerned at how weary Ereinion appeared. He knew that the vision also weighed heavily upon him. The Mariner walked towards the family wing, determined to check on the other one who had endured such visions. He smiled when he saw Indiriel carrying a mug of tea. They greeted one another. Cirdan kissed her on the head.

"He needs you." The Mariner stated.

"I know," Indiriel whispered and hurried towards the council room. Ereinion heard the door close and felt his

wife's comforting presence. Looking up, he saw her loving countenance gazing down at him. She leaned down and kissed him tenderly.

"Here, my love." She pushed handed him the tea. "It is willow bark tea for your headache." He sipped at it, thankful for its soothing aroma.

"More were injured in the press of the crowd than by the wave yesterday." He said softly.

"Yes, Elrond's warning on the beach came in time. Thankfully, your vision of the horrible loss of life on Balar did not come to pass." She said while soothingly massaging his shoulders. He trembled as the images flowed over him.

"By Cirdan's count, there were fifty-six deaths, and perhaps there are nearly a hundred and fifty unaccounted for."

Ereinion sighed heavily. "There were many injuries but the majority were minor."

"By these visions, we were able to prepare and shield most from harm," Indiriel stated again. She kept her touch on his neck light and bent to kiss his forehead.

"Foresight is a terrible burden." She observed.

"Did I do enough?" Ereinion questioned weakly, closing his eyes in guilt and exhaustion. He had not yet had the chance to sleep. Yet each time he closed his eyes, the images of Balar jolted him back to wakefulness. Indiriel slipped into his lap, pressing her head close to his, her hand gently rubbing his chest. He looked down at the beauty that was his wife. Their lips met in what was at first a comforting kiss. Her hand moved up into his hair and removed the burdensome crown.

"At least Eru has blessed me with one more day to cherish you." He choked sorrowfully, aware that they stood on the brink of war and could easily lose each other at any moment. He leaned down to taste her more fully, their lips now expressing urgency and desire.

"Come, my love. Surely, your council can spar you for a few hours." She rose and pulled him to his feet, leading him from the chamber to the quiet privacy of their room.

Xxxxxxxxx

Cirdan continued towards the family wing. Cirulian informed him that he had escorted the exhausted Peredhel back to the palace a few hours ago. Cirdan knocked, but there was no answer. He opened the door and peered into the room immediately concerned that there was no sign that the boy had returned here. Frowning, he headed out through the gardens to the house of healing. Elros and his men had just finished transporting some injured people to the healers.

"Elros, have you seen your brother?"

"Not today," Elros answered, trying unsuccessfully to hold back a yawn. The young Peredhel closed his eyes and cleared his mind of everything but the link with his brother. "He is deep in sleep. Try his room."

"Thank you, Elros. You should go and do likewise," Cirdan directed. Elros nodded and took his leave. As Galadriel emerged into the hallway, Noenri approached to update the Lord of the Havens on the current situation. Blood stained her dress, but her face did not betray any weariness.

"Thank you for all your help, my Lady." Noenri bowed.

"A great tragedy was avoided," she stated and looked up at the Mariner who had just been joined by Celeborn.

"What troubles you Cirdan?" Galadriel soothed in a melodic voice.

"I can not find Elrond." The Mariner stated. "You know what a burden foresight is especially to one so young." They slowly exited the healing rooms and walked into the garden. Celeborn stopped and leaned against one of the many trees that shaded the area. Galadriel could hear the song of the trees echoing through her husband's mind.

"His Sindar sensibilities please me." Celeborn noted wordlessly.

"But what of his other ancestry?" Galadriel's amused voice rang inside his head.

"Fear not, Elrond finds comfort among the trees." Galadriel said aloud.

"You might be more forthcoming with the Mariner." Celeborn laughed. "You would get along much better." Then he addressed Cirdan aloud. "Elrond sleeps in the oak tree at the garden's edge near the library."

"Let him rest until dinner." Galadriel directed.

Chapter 21: War Looming

Chapter Text

Warning: This is AU. According to Tolkien the Elves of Beleriand did not take part in the War of Wrath, though itlasted some 50 years. I will take some liberties in the next few chapters and assume that the Elves fought a valiant but losing battle until the host arrived from Valinor. At the end of the war, the land of Middle Earth was thrown into upheaval, with much of the low-lying plains of Beleriand sinking beneath the sea. Some of this area seems to have survived into the third age.

Xxxxxxxxx

Refugees including men, elves, and even some dwarves flooded steadily into the area surrounding Mithlond and the Havens. Autumn was again approaching and there was much apprehension as to how to feed, clothe and house such large numbers of refugees. Gil-Galad estimated that as many as 30,000 had entered the city in the last six months. Two outer settlements of Beleriand had fallen to Morgoth's forces. The elves had sustained heavy casualties. The orcs torched everything in their wake as if to add to the insult. Here in Mithlond, the last retreat, tent cities and makeshift shelters were being quickly erected. As to be expected, tension had already arisen between Noldor, Teleri, Sindar, and Green elves who had sought safety. But there was also tension between elves and men and further between elves and dwarves. Gil-Galad was happy to have the peredhil here, as they could act as ambassadors with the edain. Elros was trusted and embraced by men one of their own. Elrond's more humble nature coupled with his openness also set both men and dwarves at ease, although they considered him an elf of the King's house.

Under Cirdan's tutelage, Elros learned the art of shipbuilding and was primarily responsible for directing the efforts of the men. The ships might provide a last resort, a last means for the innocent to escape Morgoth and perhaps sail for another island or some other hidden refuge. Valinor was not an option for any of the free peoples.

Elros had decided that it was wiser to distance himself from King Gil-Galad so as not to be perceived as a vassal and cause apprehension among men. He settled temporarily at Cirdan's house, for it was close to the boarding house that his men were lodged at, and traveled frequently to Baath. There was also a community of approximately five thousand men had settled in a temporary settlement nearby. Ereinion had asked Elros to survey this area, as this community was sure to grow given the current influx of refuges. Elros organized the settlers into groups and set up training programs down at the Havens for edain warriors. It was highly probable that within the next five years they might need all available men and women warriors to stand against the onslaught of orcs. Civilians had been evacuated from three perimeter settlements, which now served primarily as defensive military sites. In fact, Lords Celeborn and Oropher had recently returned from assessing the deployment of forces in northern Beleriand. They were only staying in Mithlond long enough to gather reinforcements. Amon Ereb was the most distant elven settlement now and though there was some animosity between the Fëanorians and Gil-Galad, they were allied against the forces of Morgoth. Gil-Galad sought to ensure that the enemy had no chance to divide the elves of Amon Ereb from the remainder of the elven forces.

For the most part, Elrond and Erestor were both much younger than the typical elven warrior and not privy to such details about the war. Given the recent escalation in orc attacks, the two young elves were now more intensively training as warriors and taking scouting and battle strategy classes instead of aiding councilor Merwen. There was great fear and turmoil among the public. All able-bodied elves were demanding to receive formal warrior training. Elrond and Erestor were just two of many novices that were pressed into service teaching beginning weapons training classes as more of the experienced warriors were assigned to patrols and scouting missions. Light was barely beginning to grace the early morning sky when Erestor approached the training ground. As usual, Elrond was already halfway through calisthenics, having already completed his usual jog. His complete attention and drive were focused on excelling at both the sword and bow. It was as if he instinctively knew that only by honing these skills would he stand any chance of surviving to thirty, an age he secretly thought of as his majority. At first, Erestor had been shaken by his friend's single-mindedness. But as they met each morning before dawn and practiced, he too began to strive for the same level of excellence. They studied and tested each other using new positions and strategies detailed in the books Erestor found.

"Good morning." Erestor greeted then proceeded to stretch and join Elrond in exercise.

"Do you think we will be joining patrols soon?''

"It's difficult to predict." Elrond mused. "I think they believe that I am still a child and would withhold assigning me to patrols as long as possible."

"Judging from the increase in our training assignments, I predict we will be going out on patrols within the next year." Erestor said.

"You are probably correct." Elrond agreed moving to his practice forms in preparation for sparring.

"Would you rather be assigned to a patrol with Elros?" Erestor asked curiously. Elrond paused a long moment before answering.

"If I have a choice when we face Morgoth's armies, I would choose to fight next to my brother, you, and the elves of Gil-Galad's house. I think that Elros would also choose to fight beside me. But he would like to stand with the men of Baath as well. I have to believe that Eru sent each of us here for a purpose. I wish I knew what mine was. Perhaps peredhil simply serve to bridge the two kindreds." Elrond said thoughtfully.

"I would be honored to fight beside you, my friend," Erestor said. They slowly went through the ten new sword moves that they had recently learned from the book, taking turns to act as the aggressor and devise techniques to defend against each of the new moves. As more elves arrived, they slowly switched to sparring with more conventional moves. A bell rang at eight o'clock, signaling the beginning of the first morning classes. This morning was to be both Elrond's and Erestor's first time acting as teachers, for they had been assigned to instruct an elementary weapons training course for a set of twenty new students. It was a mixed class with some young elves, who had not yet reached their majority, as well as a handful of older elves, who were craftsmen and artisans and had never learned to wield weapons.

"Boy, you have not yet reached your majority. What qualifies you to teach us?" One of the older elves said scornfully.

"Although I am young, the King's guards deem I have some skill with the blade." Elrond humbly returned and then bowed before the class. "The sword is an ancient and honorable weapon. We will do all we can to teach you to use it to defend yourselves."

"Half-blood, peredhel." Mumbled someone else under his breath. It was loud enough for all those present to hear but soft enough to leave some doubt as to who had actually uttered it. Erestor was insensed and indignant at this treatment of his friend.

"Elrond Eärendilion is descendent of Elven Kings."

"It is alright Erestor." Elrond said calmly, unfortunately used to this reaction to his heritage though his spirit was buoyed by Erestor's deep loyalty and friendship. Somehow being a peredhel seemed to instantly inspire the most extreme reactions, whether deep loyalty or animosity. Elrond sighed silently, wishing to be more ordinary.

"Elrond and I have volunteered to teach you to defend yourselves. When you have surpassed us in skill you may move to the next group." Erestor stated.

"Who taught you, Eärendilion, to wield a blade?" One of the stout elves asked. Elrond looked up. His voice was calm, but his eyes flashed momentarily.

"The two remaining sons of Fëanor, Maehdros and Maglor taught me to wield a sword." He stated loudly. "It was a rather unpleasant experience, I can assure you. I have been practicing some fifteen years now. A short time, I know, by the count of elves. We will endeavor to make your education more pleasant." A stunned silence passed through the class. Even Erestor looked dumbfounded at that revelation.

"Now, we will start with the basic positions. These must become natural and unconscious motions for you." For the next two hours neither sword nor any other weapon was wielded. Elrond and Erestor demonstrated the positions, and the class followed, imitating their every move. Erestor walked around and corrected their stances and Elrond coached them on the importance of balance and stability. After dismissing the class Erestor and Elrond joined the other warriors for two additional hours of training. It was nearly lunchtime when Elros emerged onto the field.

"So little brother, shall we spar?" Came Elros' teasing voice.

"I have been practicing." Elrond winked at Erestor. "Are you sure you are up for such a battle?" Elrond taunted. Only Erestor was privy to just how much Elrond had been practicing.

Elros laughed at his brother, confident that he would emerge victorious. He led Elrond to an open corner near the trees. As customary, they both bowed to each other before the battle commenced. Erestor watched the two brothers. Gradually others gathered around him as curiosity overwhelmed them. Their unusual grace and beauty virtually guaranteed that neither Peredhil would ever be lost among a crowd. At first, their parries and thrusts were conservative, each testing the other's strengths. Elros was surprised at how much his brother had developed. Slowly, the blows gained in strength and intensity. Cirdan and Celeborn were returning from the docks to attend the King's council. They had just come through the trees onto the practice fields and noticed a small crowd gathered around two sparring warriors.

"It is the Peredhil!" Celeborn said, recognizing them immediately. They came over and stood by Erestor, who nodded in greeting.

"How long?" Cirdan whispered.

"Almost an hour." Erestor breathed, trying not to miss a minute of the breathtaking duel. They watched the two warriors dexterously dance back and forth across the field. Both had identical serious silver eyes set with an equal single-minded determination and a fierceness that reminded Celeborn of his King, Elu Thingol. The clashes of metal on metal grew increasing louder as the match progressed, the only sign that each of the competitors were bringing their full strength to bear as neither face betrayed any sign of fatigue, their expressions masked to prevent the other from gleaning any advantage. The brothers were a striking pair, a mixture of both the elegance of elves and the sturdiness of men with a shimmer of the dazzling light of the Maiar. Both were as dark as night though not identical. One had short hair and a short beard, sporting yet broader and somewhat bulkier muscles than a man. The second one had a glowing, smooth face and the longer warrior braids of an elf. He was now only slightly shorter in height than his brother.

"He has strengthened considerably," Celeborn noted. Elrond had begun to fill out; his shoulders, arms, and legs were now well-muscled like an elven warrior instead of the lanky,gangly form of an elfling.

"They are evenly matched." Cirulian commented. "Much closer now in strength than ever before. Elrond is determined to best Elros and set out on an ambitious training program nearly a year ago."

"He is exceedingly swift and dexterous." Durgin was impressed.

Elros started an aggressive attack, forcing his brother to yield ground and move backwards step-by-step until he was almost against the tree line. Cirdan gasped when he saw Elros fake right and then turn with all his strength in an attempt to strike at his brother's left side. Elrond scrambled part way up the trunk, catapulting himself over Elros and landing upright behind him, effectively situating Elros in the weaker position against the tree. Elros recovered from the surprising maneuver and quickly pivoted to meet his brother's thrust, blocking the first assault. But in a flurry of motion almost too quick to follow, Elrond kept his brother on the defensive, barely able to block the blows that followed. Three decisive moves knocked Elros' knees out from under him and pitched him soundly to the dirt. It was a move that Cirdan had only seen once before, performed by an ancient elf long departed to Valinor. Elros lay stunned, looking up at his brother. Elrond's sword pointed directly at his chest.

"I warned you." Elrond could not help but grin. "Do you yield?"

"I do." Answered a stunned Elros. Elrond extended his hand and helped his brother to his feet.

"Where did you learn that move?" Elros asked, but Elrond only smiled.

"I doubt I could fool you with it a second time, so it is a moot point. But do not think that the outcome will be any different next time." Elrond said brashly.

"You are exceedingly skilled." Elros smiled. "I would trust you with my life."

"I will stand beside you when it is our turn to face the darkness," Elrond promised.

"That was an excellent display of swordsmanship." Cirdan praised. The small group clapped. The Peredhil both looked up, startled to realize that they had an audience, so completely had their concentration been engaged by the match. Elros and Elrond both flushed in embarrassment and simultaneously executed identical bows, thanking their audience.

"Go wash up and join us for lunch." Cirdan directed as he and Celeborn turned and continued towards the palace.

"They will be compelled to join the war efforts soon enough, though they are still but elflings." Cirdan sighed in dismay. "Elrond and Elros will turn twenty-five in a few months."

"All too soon." Celeborn returned grimly. "Already they show proficiency with the sword that surpasses some of our seasoned warriors. But there are other skills that they will need to have the best chance of survival on the battlefield. Cirulian has been overseeing their education in scouting and strategy. The Fëanorians trained them exceedingly well in the basics."

"Though viciously." Cirdan paused.

"I only hope we can hold out until help arrives from Valinor," Celeborn murmured.

"You trust the peredhil's vision that the Valar will come?" Cirdan said.

"We have little hope if help does not arrive."

Chapter 22: Patrols

Chapter Text

"When will you acknowledge Elrond as an adult?" Celeborn asked. "Men consider both sons of Eärendil adults already."

"Elrond takes more after his elven heritage than Elros. It is curious as technically they are both more than half elven." Ereinion paused, considering the silver Lord. Then he continued in a low voice that none but Celeborn could hear. "Elrond does not yet consider himself an adult. For all his outward confidence, he still carries burdens from his captivity. Accomplishing his goal of besting his brother with the sword was a step forward. But he values his brother's life and the lives of many others well above his own. I fear for a warrior who would sacrifice himself too readily. He is dear to me."

"As with the other novices, I would intermittently assign Elrond and Erestor to patrols to ensure they gain some experience. In Elrond's case, this would increase his independence and separation from his brother. I would not have their first battle experience be in a major war with Morgoth's forces." Celeborn wisely observed.

"Elrond has already been on patrol with men. I know he is ready. It is wise that he should become accustomed to serving under elven command. But is Erestor ready? His Mother would not survive a second loss. Her husband perished protecting Elwing. I sent him to Sirion with messages for her the day before the attack." Ereinion's voice trailed off.

"Ereinion, you yourself are yet young. Kingship is a great burden. You made wise decisions given our knowledge at the time. The battles that are coming will leave none of us untouched." The King nodded and drew in a deep breath.

"You may include them in the patrol rosters. They are both skilled with weapons. Assign them to either Cirulian's or Durgin's patrol." Ereinion paused, considering what he should reveal about Elrond. "Celeborn, the sons of Eärendil share a twin bond that I do not wholly understand. It may be better to assign them to patrols together."

"I disagree. They are far too close and even share thoughts over great distances. It is better to separate them as they have been much of this year." Celeborn voice held concern.

"Truly, there is no real means of separating them. Elrond would give his life to aid his brother. He can send his strength to Elros through their bond over great distances. Indiriel has witnessed this." Ereinion stopped knowing he had divulged enough. Celeborn's eyes widened at the implications and unbeknown to Ereinion, he discussed this with his wife.

"I will factor this in as we prepare for battles and place them together. But I still feel Elrond should gain experience in our own patrols under elven command. I know that Elros will not agree to participate."

Xxxxxx

Elrond had just finished packing his medicinal herbs and bandages into his saddlebag. He fingered the lemba pouch Laeste had given him and checked his weapons one last time. He was about to depart on his first patrol in the company of elves.

"Elrond!" Cirulian loomed behind him. "Is it true that you can speak over great distances to your brother?" Elrond nodded.

"You can even lend him your own strength over these distances?" The question unsettled Elrond, especially as it drew the attention of all the elves in his patrol.

"Yes." He said in a low voice, obviously self-conscious.

"Elrond!" Cirulian's voice echoed more loudly. "Patrols are dangerous. I need every elf at full mental and physical capacity. There must be no distractions." Cirulian looked around at the five other novices assigned to the patrol.

"That goes for every one of you." Elrond and the others nodded. Cirulian looked directly at Elrond as if to assess his next command.

"I order you to call your brother now. Tell him that you are going on patrol and that your commander has ordered you not to talk with him unless you are off duty and resting. Tell him that he is not allowed to call upon your strength while we are away." Cirulian stated in a harsh voice. Elrond stepped backwards in surprise bumping into his steed.

"If you do not comply. You may not come on this patrol." Cirulian repeated firmly. "Do as I order. Now." Elrond leaned against his horse for support and closed his eyes briefly as he called to his brother. His eyelids opened involuntarily, and each of the elves gathered could see the empty glaze indicative of Elrond's focus on his brother. The other patrol members watched Elrond closely, just as Cirulian had planned. They all now knew the outwards signs of this mind-speak, subtle though they were. Elrond blinked again, returning to himself, a soft blush inched up his face when he realized the scrutiny he had been under.

"I have done as you asked." He said softly.

"Thank you Elrond. Your gift is unusual and at times very valuable. But I would not have it endangering you or our patrol." Cirulian stated flatly. Elrond looked around at the other warriors and realized they would know if he tried to contact Elros.

"It is time to depart." Cirulian said. Personally, he did not like singling out or embarrassing one of his warriors thusly, but he had been directed to do exactly that by Lord Celeborn.

Xxxxxx

Erestor and Elrond rode together towards the back of the formation. There were twenty elves in the patrol and five had never been on patrol or in battle. Cirulian did not count Elrond as one of the five because the peredhel had accompanied men on patrol and had already fought in skirmishes. He knew that this was the young half-elf's first patrol with elves and that the half-elf would feel self-conscious. Cirulian assigned Sergil, a seasoned warrior with ties to Sirion to watch out for both Elrond and Erestor. The first night they camped along a shaded spot near the Sirion river. Elrond and Cirulian sat for the second watch.

"Can you hear as well as a full elf?" Cirulian asked curiously.

"I do not know. Is there some test?" Elrond whispered back, still somewhat wary due to the events of the morning.

"I can hear the trees calming updates, the river's endless chattering, and the breezes soft words. I heard the warnings before the attack on our royal party last year. Perhaps like the Fëanorians contend, I am less than an elf in some ways."

"And more in other ways." Cirulian smiled. He had grown to care for the youth. He puzzled over how to tread that delicate line of mentoring this young one yet not appearing to favor him over his other warriors. He repeated the command structure of the elven patrol again for Elrond and reminded the youth how to focus on his breathing to commune with nature while on the watch. Gil-Estel had passed overhead when Artema and Sergil came to relieve them. Elrond, overcome with exhaustion, sank down into his sleeping roll to catch a few hours of sleep. Far too soon,Erestor woke him. The Noldor was disturbed when he saw Elrond sleep with his eyes closed.

"Elrond," he nudged the sleeping form. It is time to wake up." Elrond's eyes immediately opened, and he stretched, taking in the first light of the dawn. He sat up,and Erestor handed him a small bowl with breakfast foods.

"Did you sleep well?" Erestor asked softly. "Your eyes were closed."

"I was up very late on watch. I'm still somewhat tired." Elrond yawned. "But not to worry, I will be fine. Sometimes Elros and I sleep with our eyes closed. You do too, do you not?"

"Only when injured," Erestor noted.

Xxxxxxx

Whistles and birdcalls alerted them to danger on the eighth day of their patrol. "Orcs and wolves" the signals warned. Cirulian barked a string of orders, and his warriors assumed defensive and clandestine positions. Moments later, a small band of orcs accompanied by wolves bounded through the trees. Erestor fought off two orcs, stabbing one through the chest. The second orc was raising his sword to meet Erestor's when teeth pierced his thigh and he cried out in pain. It was Elrond's sword that deflected what would have been a fatal blow, and Elrond who quickly finished off the orc as Erestor desperately struck at the wolf. Working quickly, Elrond dispatched the wolf and stepped in front of his injured friend to take on the advancing orcs. Erestor grit his teeth and moved beside Elrond as Sergin stepped up protectively next to the injured novice. Together they quickly dealt with all four menacing orcs. Looking around they found the battle won. Erestor, though, could only see the disfigured orcs that they had just killed. Bile rose in his throat at his horror at having taken life from another creature, and he stumbled. Elrond caught him and turned him away from the battle scene to face the trees. Erestor immediately vomited as Elrond held him, gently stroking his back. As the convulsions subsided, he eased Erestor to sit behind the trees and quickly retrieved his canteen and healing supplies. He helped his friend wash and then gave him water to drink.

"Slowly," He chided. Erestor's face was white with shock. "My friend Thainren the dwarf told me that this is the universal reaction upon one's first kill." Elrond said soothingly. Sergil looked up at him curiously.

"It was my reaction when I killed my first orc while traveling with the dwarves. They seemed to understand this reaction."

"Even dwarves react this way?" Sergil said, astounded. Elrond nodded and cut away the fabric surrounding Erestor's wolf bite. He proceeded to clean and disinfect the wound, placing his hand over it briefly. Erestor could feel Elrond's healing power pour into him, calming and healing him. He quickly slipped his hand under Elrond's breaking the connection, effectively startling Elrond back to himself.

"Thank you, my friend." Erestor whispered. "Do not drain yourself." Elrond looked up momentarily dazed then he shook his head slowly.

"There is no need for thanks Erestor." Elrond smiled slightly then proceeded to inspect and bind the wound with healing herbs. "We should keep an eye on the wound to ensure it doesn't get infected."

Xxxxxxx

The patrol arrived at the northern outpost three weeks later to deliver messages to Cirdan. Cirulian left his warriors at the practice fields and went to meet Cirdan. It had been a difficult journey with two more encounters with orc scouts but now even the novices had been tested in several skirmishes. Cirulian had not lost a single one of his warrior. As he entered the command house could hear argumentative tones.

"My warriors will not take orders from you!" A fiery red-head elf was stating. There was no mistaking this one handed elf for anyone other than Maedhros son of Fëanor.

"If we are to fight together we must coordinate our efforts. We must set aside our differences and grievances for the safety of all. Will you abandon Amon Ereb if your defenses are breeched?"

"They will not be breeched!" The elf shouted angrily, pushing past Cirdan and brusquely exiting the house. "I will see to my warriors!" Cirdan looked up at Cirulian, taking a few seconds to recognize the elf.

"Negotiations going well?" Cirulian smiled sightly. Cirdan just sighed.

"They were going well until discussions of integrating our patrols and the chain of command. He will calm down shortly. I am sure. He is probably going to the training fields to take out some of his frustrations. Our next sticking point will be over how to integrate men into our battle strategies." Cirdan mused.

"I bear messages from the King and his council. My patrol just arrived." Cirulian approached and handed over the dispatches. Cirdan paused for a few minutes reading through the first of the letters.

"Are the sons of Eärendil here?" Said Cirdan in concern.

"Only Elrond." Cirulian acknowledged.

"There are thirty warriors from Amon Ereb here as well as Maedhros. Do not leave Elrond unguarded. I know not how he will react to the presence of his former captors." Cirulian nodded and hurried away.

Erestor and Elrond were at the training fields sparring before the dinner hour, as were most of the other off-duty warriors from their patrol. Their concentration was so intense that Erestor did not notice the red-head elf approach. Maedhros tripped the young warrior, pushing him out of the way. Erestor fell hard to the ground and Elrond's sword clashed mightily against the broad sword that still appeared in his worst nightmares.

"Elros!" Maedhros said, easily mistaking the now healthy, strong Peredhil before him for the brother that he had taken a liking to. "It has been long since we have sparred." Elrond blinked, but the fiery monster before him did not change. He drew himself up and imitated Elros' speech.

"Your defeat is long overdue." Elrond stated brashly imitating Elros' impish dialogue. He tried to mask his feelings. Erestor rose gingerly and stepped out of the way. One did not argue with the kinslayer, the son of Fëanor. Maedhros lost little time, attacking Elrond fast and furiously from the start. The thrusts and parries propelled Elrond backwards as he struggled to control his emotions. He sustained several shallow cuts on his left arm, which bled down his sleeve, but he held his own, now strong enough to meet and block Maedhros' mighty sword.

"You have improved, Elros, not that I expected any less," Maedhros said approvingly.

Elrond took advantage of his adversary's momentary distraction and deftly slipped his blade underneath the other's sword, drawing a shallow line across Maedhros' side, identical to the ones he had endured countless times. The red warrior hissed and struck back forcefully, though his sword was again blocked. They stood now equal in height and eye-to-eye, whereas for years Elrond had been required to look up at his tormentor. The peredhel's eyes flashed violently with anger. Erestor stepped back at seeing this fierce expression on his friend's face. Then Elrond unleashed a furious attack that pushed Maedhros back step-by-step until Elrond had regained all the ground that he had initially lost. Cirulian gasped upon seeing the battle and pulled Erestor further back away from the duel.

Maedhros switched tactics reverting to older moves that he knew he had not taught the Peredhil but these strategies were familiar to Elrond, who wondered if the Fëanorians had written some of the books Erestor and he had been studying.

"Daro! (Stop!)" Rang Cirdan's command. "Allies do not injure each other. We will call this a draw." Both swords met high, clashing and remaining against each other as Maedhros was taken aback by the hatred in the peredhel's eyes. Cirdan grabbed each elf's sword arm and lowered them. Then the Mariner stepped between the two warriors facing the son of Fëanor while keeping his back to Elrond. Both elves lowered but did not sheath their swords.

"Maedhros, take your men back to the barracks we have assigned you. I will send a healer to look at your wound."

"It is shallow, nothing serious." The son of Fëanor replied. He and his warriors murmured but complied with the Mariner's order, moving slowly away.

"Elrond and Erestor accompany Cirulian and your patrol to your barracks." Maedhros and the other Fëanorians turned and stared with astonishment at Elrond, not expecting this to be the runt that they had delighted in bullying. Erestor tugged lightly at Elrond's sword arm, and slowly, the half-elf relinquished his sword to his friend as they left the field.

Elrond was numb with pent up anger and adrenaline. He noticed nothing until Erestor pushed him into a chair and started to remove his tunic. His arms rose in reflex, pushing Erestor away.

"Elrond! It is I, Erestor! Come, I just want to check your arm." Elrond slowly focused on his friend, finally acknowledging him. Seeing his acquiescence, Erestor removed the tunic and examined the four shallow cuts on his left arm that bled freely. Erestor cleaned and bandaged them while Elrond looked on in silence. Erestor rose and pulled another tunic out of his friend's bag and handed it to the stunned youth.

"Thank you, Erestor." Came the now soft and controlled voice as Elrond pulled on the tunic.

"How are you, Elrond?" Cirdan questioned, emerging into the room with Cirulian.

"Fine." Came the curt reply as shaking fingers fumbled with buttons.

"You stood bravely against your former tormentor." Cirdan stated firmly. "You faced him with skill and honor."

Cirulian could see a range of emotions pass over the youth's eyes. He thrust a cup of warm liquid into the young one's hands.

"Drink this!" Elrond obeyed and took a sip, smelling sleeping herbs and chamomile. He grimaced.

"I do not wish to sleep. I do not wish to be so vulnerable with the Fëanorians so close." He protested.

"Drink up." Cirdan ordered. "Cirulian and Erestor will guard you while you sleep. Sergil appeared with four dinner plates, but Elrond could only push the food around on his plate. The idea of eating made him feel nauseous. They all tried, but no one could put Elrond at ease. Elrond slowly finished the tea. His hands still trembled lightly.

"Elrond." Soothed Cirdan. "Why don't you call to Elros? He would want to know what has occurred. You will surely have quite a reputation now that you have held your own against Maedhros." The Mariner led Elrond to one of the lower bunks and settled him. He watched curiously as Elrond called to his brother. His eyes closed, and the stress left his features as he accepted Elros' comfort.

Chapter 23: Battle

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"Master, the elf has been prepared." The orc captain hissed. Morgoth nodded his understanding, keeping his frustrations in check. This unlucky firstborn should provide some fleeting entertainment.

"The slow pace of the mining does not please me." The Black Valar said slowly. "Sauron see if you can induce these laggards to employ their slaves more efficiently. We require ores for the forging of more weapons." He waved his dismissal to his lieutenants. Once they had departed he turned back to the first orc.

"Is this an elf who had been in Mithlond during my surprise?" The orc nodded. Unbeknownst to all, Morgoth had been researching methods to induce earthquakes with a combination of judicious mining techniques coupled with the power of his silmaril. He sought to control and guide destructive waves. "Nothing would please me more at hearing the firstborn curse the rest of the Valar for the destruction of Balar." Morgoth smiled deeply. "I would force their beloved elves to the coast and destroy them with Ulmo's own waters. Come, let us hear a first hand account of the destruction of the elven haven."

Xxxxxxxx

Elros had just finalized arrangements with the Czentender settlement leaders for their next visit.

"We will continue the weapons training for all the men in our settlement." Their Chieftain reiterated.

"I hope that aid will arrive in time." Elros said. "But I fear the forces of Morgoth seek to crush all free peoples regardless as to whether they are of the first or second born." Their leaders nodded grimly.

"Captain, the last of the supplies have been loaded." Mikeal addressed Elros. "We can cast off at any time." Elros nodded.

"May Elbereth watch over you and your people until we meet again." Elros bowed to Czentender's leaders. He had succeeded in gaining their trust and expanded the men's alliance to this furthest port. They said their formal goodbyes, and Elros and his crew boarded their ships to depart for the Havens. It had been a two-month mission. It was Elros' first as ship's Captain as well as his first diplomatic mission. He was restless to return to Mithlond where he had a bone to pick with the Elven King. Almost a month ago, Elrond had called to him on Cirulian's orders to tell him that he would need to limit communication with him while on patrol. For Elrond's sake, Elros tried to suppress the anger that continued to well up within him at how his brother had been treated and embarrassed in front of his first elven patrol. What business was it of Cirulian's or Ereinion's how close the sons' of Eärendil were? Only a few times, when Elrond was off duty or about to sleep had he been able to talk with his brother. Elros benefited from Elrond's councils about diplomacy. In return, Elros was able to provide an open ear for any of Elrond's worries. The ship had just passed beyond sight of Czentender when Elros felt his brother's call.

"Mikeal, I must document some of our verbal agreements. I will be in my cabin. Please do not disturb me unless it is urgent." His second in command nodded as Elros hurried to his cabin. He shut the door behind him and opened his mind fully to his brother. Elrond's thoughts washed over him.

"You sparred with Maedhros?" Elros returned astounded. Elrond described the battle and then shared the images from his memories. Elros gave his brother his full attention, wrapping his spirit comfortingly around him. "Are you alone now?"

"No, Cirdan, Erestor, and Cirulian are with me now. Cirdan ended the match, calling it a draw. He suggested that I talk with you."

"Cirdan suggested that you talk with me?" Elros reiterated.

"Yes, I don't think Cirdan or Ereinion have anything against our twin bond." Elrond mused. "I don't know who ordered Cirulian to take such actions, but I doubt it was Ereinion."

"The Seneschal or Celeborn." Elros mused.

"It matters not." Elrond's voice wavered, pulling Elros' attention back to his brother.

"Elrond, you bravely faced Maedhros. I am proud of you." Elros soothed, he was uncomfortable at being placed in the role of being the wiser one. In reality he felt as if he just avoided these issues by surrounding himself by Men.

"How can they place more worth on some jewel than on the lives of other elves? How does such an oath translate into intolerance and hatred against their fellow beings?" Elrond paused and laughed bitterly. "It seems that I am now acceptable to those in Amon Ereb because I can now wield a sword well. Is that all that one's worth is based on? Should we not be generous and kind to all?"

"I know not how to answer these questions. I pray that Eru will guide the kindred together and bless us all with tolerance. I am proud of you. You faced your nemesis from our childhood. He will no longer plague your dreams. Rest brother." Elros focused calm and peaceful memories towards his brother, smiling when he felt the tension dissipate as Elrond slept.

Xxxxxxxx

Negotiations between Cirdan and Maedhros continued that evening after dinner. They reached an agreement about creating mixed patrols and settled questions about strengthening the forces at Amon Ereb.

"Within the next year, we will integrate Men into our battalions. It would be wise to incorporate them into our forces so we have no weak sections." Cirdan reiterated. "Elros has been chosen as one of their leaders and he has organized training camps for their warriors both in Mithlond and Baath. There are six other Edain settlements and we estimate that they could contribute as many as twelve to fifteen thousand warriors."

"From the numbers that my scouts report. We will need every warrior no matter what their origin to stand against Morgoth." Maedhros said.

"I entreat you to persuade your warriors to lay aside their disdain for the secondborn and also to instill a tolerance in them for both their fellow elves and for the peredhil."

"Your warriors must also lay aside their prejudices to fight alongside us." Maedhros agreed then added in a low voice. "I truly thought it was Elros on the field earlier. Elrond grew up well. He is now a skilled swordsman. Maglor will be pleased to hear that. He loved them both."

"Both Gil-Galad and I have adopted Elrond. We expect you to treat him amiably. I will stand no further insults or injuries to my ward. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. The peredhel is no longer the defenseless runt. He is strong enough to defend himself. My warriors were impressed by his skills today. There will be no further incidents."

Xxxxxxx

The sun had already risen when Elrond woke and rubbed his eyes.

"Good morning Eärendilion." Cirulian teased. "It is about time you woke up, elfling!"

"If you did not insist on plying me full of sleeping potions this would not be the case." Elrond grumbled. His eyes were still dazed.

"Eat breakfast and meet me at the stables in a half hour. We will be part of a small mission conducting scouting and training maneuvers for the next few days." Elrond nodded and rubbed his eyes.

"Unless you are not up for it, child." Cirulian teased. Elrond quickly rose from the cot.

Xxxxxxx

A week later Elros directed his two ships to dock at the Havens. Celeborn and a host of elves met them at the pier. Elros gave him a brief report and supplied a list of the supplies they had obtained. The two most important items the grains, carefully stored in the other ship, and the ores aboard Elros' ship, which were precursors for swords and armor. As Elros studied Celeborn, he grew more certain that it was this silver lord who was responsible for Cirulian's actions. His anger grew until he could not contain it.

"It was you who ordered Cirulian to find a means to keep Elrond and I apart!" His eyes flashed. "Why do you seek to separate us? What gives you the right!"

"Elros, your brother needs time and space to develop and grow. He needs space to come into his own and figure out who and what he is." Celeborn said calmly.

"He can do that in my presence." Elros returned edgily.

"You are more dominating. You are already confident in who you are. Sometimes even just a few months apart here and there can give the other sibling that opportunity to discover himself or herself. In the end your relationship with your brother will be stronger for it."

"It is none of your business." Elros anger flashed and he pumped his fists trying to control it.The emotionless continence of Celeborn, ageless Prince of Doriath, ignited his indignation. It was minutes before Elros could civilly discuss the events of the last week. Celeborn was quiet and composed as he listened to the peredhel's complaints and gently added his own observations. Slowly, Elros' anger tapered off. They had just entered the palace through the family kitchen when Elros cried out. A sharp pain stabbed through his arm and he faltered. Celeborn caught him and eased him into a chair.

"Elros! What is it?" Celeborn said urgently. Galadriel glided into the room drawn by Celeborn's calls. She understood the danger and immediately grasped Elros' arm replenishing some of the strength that he was sending to Elrond.

"The outpost is under attack!" Elros clutched his left arm and suddenly lifted his hand to his head. "Elrond is injured. He can not see his fellow warriors." Ereinion entered taking in the scene before him.

"Who attacks? How many?" Ereinion pressed the young one. Elros focused on the bond to his brother on sharing his brother's thoughts and on strengthening him. He saw Elrond turn and yell desperately for Erestor as the orcs swarmed forward. He swung his sword deftly cutting down the oncoming orcs. Three, four, five foes fell to his blade, but more rose up to take their place.

"Cirulian!" Elrond's cry echoed in Elros' head. He could no longer see any of his patrol. The whistle of the blades increased and two orcs moved to intercept him. He could not possibly react in time. He chose to fell the one on his left as the other readied to strike. Yet miraculously, the blow did not fall. A familiar knife protruded from the orcs chest, directly above its heart. It was Maedhros' knife.

"Protect Elrond! Help him locate his comrades." The rough voice ordered. Elves poured in behind them. Elrond looked up never taking his eyes from the advancing foes.

"Elrond, how many scouts were with you?"

"Fifteen total." Elrond shouted in between the strokes of his blade. "We surveyed their forces … counted nearly two thousand orcs."

In shrill calls, they transferred the information back to the outpost. Maedhros barked orders and strategies. "We heard your early warnings."

"Cirulian sent the signals." Elrond exclaimed. His eyes scanned the horizon for his captain. Cirdan and more of the outpost's forces poured in behind them, pushing the orc line backwards. Someone pulled Elrond further into the elven host and quickly tied a strip of cloth tightly around the gash on his arm.

"We can not have you bleed to death, novice." An unknown elf called. Then together they stepped back into the battle.

Xxxxxxx

"An orc force two thousand strong attacks Cirdan's outpost. Maedhros is leading their defenses." Elros whispered, collapsing forward on the table. He had given all he could to his brother. All gasped at the news, stunned by the pale and unconscious peredhel before them.

"Send warnings to Amon Ereb and the two nearest outposts. Perhaps they can send aid quickly." Ereinion ordered. Celeborn nodded and hurried to see the falconers.

"Will he be alright?" Ereinion asked Galadriel. The Lady was busy assessing this son of Eärendil.

"He is exhausted. Given rest he will recover soon."

"Stay with him." Ereinion turned and headed from the room.

Xxxxxxx

"Eärendilion, help locate the elves of your patrol." Cirdan barked pushing the pale novice away from the frontline. Elrond waded through the fallen bodies, finally spotting the still form of Sergil covered in red and black blood. He bent down and with a shaking hand felt for a pulse.

"He yet lives." He called to the medics. Looking up his eyes met Maedros, who nodded and called for several of his warriors to transport the elf quickly to the healers. Maehdros turned back towards the fighting. Another elf from Amon Ereb steadied Elrond.

"You should also see the healers, lest you bleed to death." The elf stated.

"Soon, I just want to check for injured." Elrond answered. He located two more elves, Artema and someone he did not know. Both had already escaped to Mandos Halls and Elrond trembled as he closed their eyes. He spied Cirulian's armor glinting in the light. His captain was pinned under two dead orcs. He reached for his neck relieved to feel a pulse.

"Over here!" He signaled to a medic. The gash on his left arm had rendered it useless for now. A dark head with a familiar face lay unmoving twenty feet to the left of Cirulian.

"Erestor!" He pushed the orc aside with his feet, kneeling to assess his friend. Erestor had sustained a head wound that was bleeding profusely. Elrond tore a strip from his tunic and pressed it tightly to the wound then tied it around Erestor's head. Unconsciously, he allowed some of his healing energy to seep into his friend. Erestor stirred and opened his eyes.

"Elrond?" The elf mumbled, returning slowly to consciousness. Elrond quickly scanned him for other injuries. There were numerous shallow cuts but miraculously no other life-threatening injuries.

"Erestor, can you stand? I need to get you to the healers." Elrond pleaded.

"Elrond, your arm!" Erestor cried upon seeing the blood-soaked bandage.

"You do not look so well yourself, 'restor." Elrond smiled slightly. "Come let us get away from here lest the battle return this way." He pulled Erestor to his feet with his uninjured right hand but nearly stumbled trying to steady the elf. Together the two friends hobbled back towards the outpost. Other elves rushed around them frantic to try to locate other injured for treatment. When the two reached the area outside the healers they both sank down on the grass in exhaustion. Wounded elves surrounded them. Elrond checked Erestor's head wound. The bleeding had thankfully slowed but he was sure that the gash required stitches, something he was not capable of doing without the use of both hands. Blood dripped into Elrond's own eyes from a small cut above his hairline. He felt lightheaded from the blood loss and closed his eyes, drifting off into unconsciousness.

Xxxxxxx

When Elros awoke he found himself in a guest room in the palace. He felt for the bond to his brother and breathed a sigh of relief when he located its strong, comforting presence.

"I take it Elrond is alive." Came Galadriel's soothing voice accompanied by a cool compress that gently rubbed against his forehead. Elros nodded.

"How do you feel, Elros?"

"I thought Elrond was the one susceptible to headaches." The peredhel grimaced.

"It is the consequence of sending too much of your strength to him. Here, willow bark tea will help." Elros gladly took the cup and drank down the brew.

Xxxxxxxxx

Elrond found himself staring into familiar blue eyes.

"Uncle Maglor." He whispered. Maglor smiled and passed him a cup with a healing draught.

"I arrived last night with reinforcements from Amon Ereb." Maglor said softly. Elrond blinked slowly, remembering the battle.

"You have grown, Elrond. Maedhros tells me you have become a formidable swordsman." He eased Elrond to a sitting position and updated him on the victory. The room was filled with injured warriors, though it was clear that the less seriously injured were housed here.

"Erestor?" Elrond croaked weakly before taking another sip to ease his parched throat.

"The Noldor you were with? The one with the head wound?" The name was unfamiliar to Maglor. Elrond nodded.

"Fear not. He has not yet awoken, but he will recover." Elrond felt his forehead.

"You needed just a few stitches there. Your left arm, though, took a while to stitch up, and you had lost a lot of blood before they treated you. It will heal well given time." Maglor leaned closer and kissed Elrond on the brow.

"I am glad that you have found a home in Mithlond. Cirdan and Gil-Galad love you dearly. I am sorry that I could not protect you in Amon Ereb." Elrond took a deep sip of the draught.

"You did protect me." Elrond said in a low voice. "Were it not for you and Elros, I would never have survived."

"Tell me about Mithlond and your life there. Tell me what has happened these last few years." They sat for a short while before Maglor needed to go check on other patients.

"I can help you." Elrond offered.

"You are not lightheaded?" Maglor asked.

"No, though I can't help stitch any wounds," Elrond answered. The piercing blue eyes studied him carefully. "You may help me for a short while." Elrond rose, and together, they set about checking on other patients.

Chapter 24: Motivations

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Chapter 25: At the Outpost

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Chapter 26: Retreat

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Chapter 27: Search and Rescue Missions

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Chapter 28: The Vanyar

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Chapter 29: Plans Made and Altered

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Chapter 30: Journey to Hovaspind

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Chapter 31: The Healing Garden

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Chapter 32: Welcomed Home

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Chapter 33: Eonwë's Arrival

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Chapter 34: Sandcastles

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Chapter 35: The High King of the West

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Chapter 36: Of Elves and Men

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Chapter 37: Each Life is Precious

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Chapter 38: Earthquake

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Chapter 39: Search and Rescue

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Chapter 40: The Closet Scholar

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Chapter 41: Another Kind of Danger

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Chapter 42: The Harvest

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The last few months were among the busiest Elrond could remember. The harvest required all spare hands. Between working in the fields, training people in the healing arts, and nights spent editing and copying texts as references for the healers once he departed, Elrond was hard-pressed to have a free moment. When such moments did arrive, Elros would drag him off to spar. But today, thankfully, they had completed the final fieldwork. Exhausted and in need of time alone, Elrond meandered down to the river. He was grateful for a few moments to soak his aching muscles and enjoy the dusk music of the trees and insects. He dried off leisurely and pulled on a clean tunic and leggings. He spread out a blanket and sat down to rest, entranced by the babbling water and the welcomed solitude.

Elros was among the circle of town leaders dividing up the harvest crops for transport. It had been a bountiful crop. The last few weeks were occupied with harvesting vegetables. Today, many hands wielded scythes while others gathered and bound the grains into bushels. Even now, the mill wheels were turning, grinding wheat to flour. Women and men were canning and drying surplus foods for winter storage. Halverad, the towns' healer, approached the gathering of town leaders, expecting to find Elrond there. He scanned their faces and frowned impatiently.

"Halverad, what troubles you?" Riand approached. He liked the young man and knew he was one of five healers and several midwives that had been working with Elrond.

"Do you know where Elrond is? We have several cases of a strange fever and I would consult with him." Halverad said hurriedly. Luckily, most injuries today were minor – cuts and bruises as expected from work with such sharp tools.

"I have not seen him since we left the fields. Let me ask Elros." Riand turned and interrupted Elros, who was stretching gingerly, a reminder of how hard everyone had been working. The townsmen knew of the strange bond that linked the brothers. Although it sometimes shocked people, most thought it an asset that one of their own kind would be blessed with such unusual gifts. Elros paused from the tasks at hand and turned his thoughts inward searching their bond. After a few minutes of silence he opened his eyes and smiled.

"Elrond is sleeping down by the river. Perhaps you could fetch him." Elros asked with a smile.

"I would be happy to," Riand said. "Perhaps I can succeed in sneaking up on."

"The odds would seem to be in your favor." Elros laughed. Few could startle either of the peredhil. Riand turned back to the healer.

"Halverad, I will bring Elrond to the healing house." Then he turned and went in search of the peredhel. The woods grew dark, lit only by the filtered oranges of the dusk. He saw a still figure stretched out on a blanket by the riverside. The peredhel's ridiculously long silken hair framed his fair face. Riand and Elros often joked about cutting it as he slept.

"My hair is still safe from your plans." The tired voice came.

"Elrond! How could you have heard me?" Riand sighed in regret. "I have been foiled again."

"The trees sang a warning," Elrond answered mysteriously. Stiff limbs ached and made him groan as he moved to sit up.

"Ahh, you overworked yourself in the fields today!" Riand laughed and sat down behind him. Elrond automatically gathered his hair and twisted it into a single braid. "Your shoulders must be sore. I watched you heave the bushels onto the carts. Allow me." He began to massage Elrond's aching shoulders.

"Thank you my friend. I did too much of everything, it seems." Elrond said between small groans.

"What you need is some ale and a good sleep," Riand suggested. Elrond shook his head with a groan.

"Ale and I do not mix well. What brings you in search of me?"

"Halverad would consult with you. I said you would meet him at the healer's house. How is the training of new healers proceeding? Is Halverad skilled?"

"He will make a fine healer. I have learned much in the process as well." Elrond admitted. "More in fact in these few months than in a year in the Mithlond's healing house." Riand thought it a good time to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily in the air.

"So, my niece, Analise, has set her hopes on you. Will you return her affections?" Riand said. At the mention of the lady, memories surfaced from his childhood.

Crying woke him during the night. He climbed down from the bed and peered over at his twin. Elros was still sleeping, his stuffed bear clutched tightly in his arms. Elrond wandered out into the hall towards his Mother's room.

"I see them dying in my dreams. Kill by the sons of Fëanor, just as my brothers were."

"It is just another nightmare." The nurse soothed. "No one knows how your brothers met their ends."

"Why am I tormented by such dreams? Is it a sign that they will come here to destroy us? My love is not coming back. We are alone and doomed. How can I go on?" Elwing was sobbing. "I can not care for them alone."

"There, my Lady." The nursemaid was soothing. "You must be strong. We will care for the boys together."

"Would it have been better that we had never met and never married?" Elwing lamented. Little Elrond froze momentarily then turned and ran back to his bedroom.

"Elrond, it is alright to turn down my niece," Riand said, disconcerted that Elrond had not yet replied. "Could you not love her?"

"Analise is a beautiful and feisty woman." He began softly. "She will make some lucky man a wonderful wife. But I regret that I cannot be that man. We go to war in but a short time. Who knows which among us will return? I could not bear to abandon a family as my father did. Forgive me, but I can not."

"But your father was brave and may yet prove to have been a savior of Middle Earth by his courageous actions." Riand was surprised by Elrond's reasons.

"To all the world, he may be known as the brave Mariner. But to a wife and two boys, who were too young to understand, his actions brought much sorrow for many years." Elrond whispered. Silence stretched out between them until finally Elrond spoke again. "There is a healer who does long for Analise's affections. But, I do not know much about the ways of love, and I can not read the future."

"Halverad!" Riand said in surprise. "I had no idea."

"He is shy in such matters too."

Xxxxxxxx

Reka's screams of pain echoed in the tiny house. Her husband Malter gently held her hand, reminding her it was nearly through. Elrond and Elsa watched the baby's head crowning. Elsa eased the child's arrival into the new world. With another push, the tiny head came fully out. A minute later, Elsa eased the shoulders out and then the whole new babe, gifted with life from Eru entered into the world. Elsa washed the tiny child and laid him on his mother's stomach to encourage the bonding and connection.

"A healthy baby boy," Elrond announced as they moved to cut the umbilical cord. He would never cease to be amazed at the miracle of new life. Then Elrond examined the child, with its father standing nearby watching. He checked the baby's heartbeat and breathing and counted all the curled-up digits. Ten perfect fingers and toes! The child wailed vigorously as Elrond applied a solution to his eyes to prevent infection. Then he swaddled the babe as Elsa had taught him and handed him over to his amazed father.

"He is perfect! Thank you my dear. Who would have believed after so much time we would be blessed with a son!" Malter beamed as he held his tiny child and bent to kiss his wife. The afterbirth passed uneventfully, and both healers examined Reka closely, checking for signs of excess bleeding and other potential problems. Finding none, Elrond smile and they left the couple to their joy. They washed and cleaned up. The couple's two daughters, Anna and Vivien, rushed past them into their parents' room.

"You are an excellent midwife." Elrond praised. "This settlement will keep you very busy. In the end, I think you will need to train helpers."

"I will remember your teaching," Elsa said.

"I think you have taught me just as much," Elrond admitted.

"I hope most babes choose a more convenient time for their arrival." Elsa smiled wearily. "You should attempt to catch at least a few hours of sleep."

"Yes, we are departing tomorrow for Mithlond." Elrond yawned tiredly.

"Today, you mean in just a few hours. We will miss you." Elsa said, grasping his hand. "Take care of yourself. I wish to tell you about all the babes I delivered after this war is over." Elrond took leave of the midwife and headed slowly back to his tent. Clouds obscured the stars and moon, leaving the path to his tent unusually dark. He caught sight of a familiar golden glow on the path.

"Glorfindel! Erestor!" He greeted them happily. They stepped forward to embrace him.

"We are returning to Mithlond too." Erestor grinned. "I convinced the glowing one that we should detour here, so we could travel with you and Elros."

"The glowing one?" Glorfindel scowled but smiled inwardly as he saw Elrond's eyes light with mirth. "I hear you have been off delivering babies and have trained a new line of healers."

"Noenri would be shocked. I am shocked myself. Up until a few months ago, I had only watched the delivery of a handful of babies. Here, I have helped deliver sixteen. The village had only a young midwife, new to the healing arts. Now she is well trained." Elrond could not help the yawn that escaped him.

"We will have ample time to hear your tales on the road. Come, let us catch a few hours of sleep before it is time to travel." Glorfindel said. They silently spread their sleeping rolls in Elrond's tent, now filled to capacity. Elros was already asleep snoring lightly. Erestor let out a groan as he stretched out.

"Too much hard labor in the fields?" Elrond inquired knowingly.

"Mmmm," Erestor mumbled in response, and very shortly, all four in the tent were visiting the land of dreams. Glorfindel woke at dawn and slipped out of the tent to begin preparations for their departure. He smiled at the peaceful faces of his friends. The sounds of the village stirring would wake them soon enough. In fact, Elrond and Erestor headed down to the river only an hour later to indulge in morning ablutions.

"It is good to see you Elrond! You seemed to have grown in the past few months." Erestor said, slipping off his garments and entering the river.

"Really? I have not noticed. The last few months were so hectic. Everything seems to move faster among men, somehow." Elrond said, stepping beside him into the river. Erestor had already finished lathering up and threw him the bar of soap. Elrond smiled at the sandalwood fragrance. "I missed this aroma. Men favor different soaps which they employ far too infrequently." Erestor laughed.

"I do not think that is particular to men only to the new settlers. Between the construction of shelters and farming, I too often collapsed into bed without washing." Erestor admitted.

"Come now, lazy ones." Elros chided. "It is time to take our leave." No further prodding was necessary and soon Erestor and Elrond were mounting their horses. They traveled with a smaller group, only thirty men. The rest would meet in Mithlond early in the New Year to set out for war. The morning ride was uneventful, but when they stopped for lunch, Elrond noticed that his brother appeared flush. He felt ill himself.

"Elros, perhaps we should stay in the company of Glorfindel and Erestor and away from the other men." Elrond suggested.

"Why?" Elros asked, happy to sit down as his joints burned and he felt light-headed. Elrond brushed his brother's forehead with his hand. It did not feel warm to him, but then he realized they both must be feverish.

"I treated a number for a fever illness. It is nothing serious, just aches, tiredness, and fever. It runs its course in but a few days. I think the contagion is passed by close contact, maybe through the air." Elrond surmised. Erestor overheard them and came closer in concern.

'You are both ill?" He said in surprise. Elrond was grateful to sit down next to his brother.

"It is nothing serious. I have treated a number of people for it. But it seems it is quite contagious, although perhaps not to elves." Elrond mused. "Would you mind mixing up some willow bark tea for us?"

"Of course I can," Erestor said fretfully. He had never seen humans fall ill, and elves were not susceptible to such things. "Just rest here for a bit. I will let the other men know and check if any of them display similar symptoms." As it turned out, nearly two-thirds of the men had already experienced the illness. They helped the two elves care for their sick companions.

"It is embarrassing." Elros groaned, sipping the tea that Erestor prepared. "To be brought down by illness!" Elrond was glad that they had decided to stop and camp here as nearly ten of the men showed signs of the fever.

"It is best to stay here until all are well, rather that risk bringing the illness to Mithlond where our troops gathered there. How many are there already?

"I expect two thousand more will arrive in the next few weeks. It will bring our totals close to twelve thousand." Elros estimated.

"I did not realize that men were predisposed to illnesses," Glorfindel said in astonishment. I do not remember Eärendil falling sick, but then again he was still small at the fall of Gondolin."

"There were no other men living there. As peredhil, I think we have a greater resistance to such things." Elrond said. His aches and fever now subsided somewhat due to the action of the willow bark tea. Now he just felt tired. "Noenri said that our Naneth did come down with illnesses of men with some frequency."

"Really?" Elros was intrigued. They had not spoken about their mother in many years. "What else did you learn about Mother?" They sat talking for a while before both fell into a deep sleep.

"You added a sleeping draught to all the teas!" Glorfindel realized in surprise. Erestor smiled.

"Well, the extra sleep will aid their recovery and also keep them from interacting with too many others. Indeed, Elrond and Elros appeared to have fully recovered by the next morning. In two more days, all the others had recovered, and the group continued their travels to Mithlond without further incident.

Xxxxxxx The palace training fields xxxxxxX

The swords clashed and shimmered in the dawn light as the two glistening warriors fought and danced around the sparring circle. The larger of the two warrior's eyes narrowed as he wracked his brain trying to discern his brother's strategy. The other, tall and strong in the manner of the elves, had a mischievous glint in his eyes as if he knew the match's outcome already. Elros cut across, bringing a low-line attack to his brother's left side. He would have groaned if he had seen the smile break across his brother's usually unreadable face. In four swift moves, Elrond had pitched his brother to the dirt. His sword poised at Elros' neck.

"Yield!" Elrond commanded, trying not to smile.

"I yield!" Elros groaned. "How is it that since our mid-twenties, I have not been able to beat you with a sword?"

"You beat me with the bow." Elrond reminded, dropping his sword to the side. "And you go on ad nauseum about being the elder, although that is an outright lie." Then he offered his hand to help Elros up. Elros, though, was not finished. Elrond's words had only incited him further. His arm stiffened, pulling Elrond forward, and his knee caught Elrond squarely in the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. A few seconds later found Elrond on his back, trying to catch his breath. Elros hovered over him laughing.

"Not fair, brother!" Elrond protested breathily.

"All is fair in war." Elros laughed.

"Are we at odds?" Elrond questioned through a smile then rose and brushed himself off.

"Nay, we are not. At least, I hope not. I intend to lead the battalion of men and hope you remember your promise to stand beside me." Elros said seriously.

"I would not turn my back on a promise to you," Elrond said. "Please let me talk with Ereinion about it, without your 'help'. He will understand." Although Elrond knew all too well that to make such an appeal of his brother was a lost cause.

"One more request." Elros paused. "I have taken the liberty of acquiring some clothes of men for you. The few you have are long outdated and likely no longer fit. I ask that you garb and groom yourself as one of the Edain before we ride out." Elrond was stunned by the request.

"Why should it matter how I am dressed?" Elrond asked.

"First impressions are powerful. By sight the people will instantly know your allegiance." Elros said.

Chapter 43: Marching to War

Chapter Text

Elros, I would prefer if you and your brother fought alongside my regiment or if we could integrate a battalion with both elves and men." Gil-Galad diplomatically entreated.

"I have been chosen by the Edain to lead them. Elrond long ago promised to fight by my side." Elros dictated stubbornly.

"Eonwë, Finarfin, and Ingwion would not be pleased with you placing yourselves in danger. Integration of our forces would strengthen us all."

"Neither would they be pleased with you putting yourself at risk, oh High King Gil-Galad." Countered Elros cheekily. "Elrond belongs with me among the Edain. I thank you for helping him heal and providing a safe place to mature."

"Is it not for him to decide where to go?" Glorfindel countered.

"No, it is my decision for my brother," Elros stated flatly. " He is my responsibility."

"Has he no say in this? Can he not also speak his own wishes?" Gil-Galad said softly, trying to mask ill feelings.

"You will not even consider him of age for three more years, not until he reaches fifty." Elros glared. "In your world, he does not yet have the rights of an adult. I have acted as an adult among the Edain for more than twenty years. I have served as captain and been a leader in the community. I know how to watch out for my brother. We are each other's only family."

"You do not consider him of age either, if you do not give him the opportunity to choose."

"He has already chosen, Gil-Galad. Perhaps you are too blind to see. Did you know he started writing a book for the healers of men when he was twenty-five? Few elves have seen it. They might ridicule a text from one so young, regardless of its attributes. Elrond wrote it to make the men aware of the importance of good hygiene to stop infection, and it discusses the attributes of different herbs to fight infection and promote healing. Healers among men now consider it a required text in their profession." Elros said proudly.

"He started writing it in Baath after I left you there?" The King said in both astonishment and admiration. "Your brother never ceases to amaze me! But a book written to help people does not indicate that he has chosen. Why must there be a choice? The mixed blood that flows within you is a bridge between three kindreds. You are noble to help men, but there is no need to segregate our armies according to race. Integration can strengthen us all and seems a far better course." Their heated discussion was halted by an exclamation from the guard outside.

"Halt, state your purpose here." They heard Cirulian ask gruffly, then gasp. "Elrond, forgive me! I did not recognize you." The guard knocked, and the King called for him to enter.

"Elrond Eärendilion." The guard said formally, not quite concealing his astonishment. In stepped Elrond attired in the garb of men with hair cut short in nearly an exact duplicate of his brother's. They were breathtakingly similar save that Elrond seemed younger and his cheeks were flushed in embarrassment. In stature, he was now slightly taller than Elros and had the lithe, well-muscled body of a runner. The youth blushed crimson under their silent, scrutinizing gazes, obviously ill at ease with his appearance.

"Elrond?" Ereinion could merely mumble in question. Glorfindel stood speechless at the unexpected transformation, while Elros happily embraced his brother.

"Thank you for honoring my request to the letter. You look like a fine warrior of men, brother." Elros said joyfully, smiling widely at the fact that his brother looked like a man not yet twenty instead of an elf in his mid-forties, as if this would seal his request that Elrond fall under his command. By looks, there would be no question from men as to which brother was the elder, even though, ironically, their assumptions would be false.

"You are welcome." He said softly, not quite meeting his brother's gaze.

"We will both leave tomorrow as planned," Elros said either not seeing or not acknowledging his brother's discomfort.

"Your battalion will ride close by mine." Ereinion spoke to both of them but focused on Elrond, who finally raised his eyes to meet the King's. "You are already a skilled warrior."

"Elrond," Ereinion kept his voice calm and comforting. "Have you packed your own healing supplies?"

"Yes, Master Noenri gifted me a beautiful case with ample supplies. I have overseen the assembly of supplies for our healing tents."

"Noenri is proud of your progress and praised your skill at triage and surgery. You are the youngest healer in our history." Ereinion paused. "I hope neither of you will have need of healing supplies, but I am heartened that you have such training. Elrond, is it your wish to fight under Elros' command with his regiment?"

"Yes, that is my wish, my Lord." He said formally, bowing his head after the request.

"Elros, I also wish to join your company as an ambassador between yours and the King's forces," Glorfindel said brightly. It was Elros' turn to be stunned into silence. He had not imagined the famed warrior making such a request.

"I would be most honored." Elros recovered gracefully.

"Fight well, sons of Eärendil. We all will march out tomorrow." Ereinion embraced them both.

"Thank you, Gil-Galad," Elros said sincerely, hugging the King again before taking his leave.

"Elrond, please stay." Ereinion's request was more for Elros' benefit, as Elrond had made no move to depart. "Glorfindel, make ready our departure." The warrior bowed, raising his hand in an elegant or perhaps teasing arc, and departed. Ereinion turned back to Elrond and drew him into another embrace.

"I promised," Elrond explained. Ereinion stroked the dark head momentarily and led him to the couch.

"I know," Ereinion said evenly. "I do not begrudge you your decision. You have nearly reached your majority. I am only concerned for your well-being. Your life and dreams are as important as your brother's."

"I am well," Elrond said curtly. He flinched slightly under Ereinion's probing stare. "It will grow back in a year or two. It was a simple request. I would honor my brother's wishes."

"Nothing is ever simple with your brother. There is no denying the differences between you." Ereinion said. He knew the request was made due to Elros' will to claim his brother for men. He easily read Elrond's fears. "Would you live only among the Edain if that was Elros' wish?"

"Yes," Elrond said simply. "I would if he asked it of me."

"I love you unconditionally, Elrond. You are both a son and brother of my heart. Be true to your own heart, and you will thrive. Your brother will benefit from you speaking your mind. You have a keen intellect and excellent intuition. Do not hesitate to share your concerns with him." Elrond nodded. Ereinion ran his fingers through the now too-short hair before pulling at it gently.

"There is no need to acquiesce to all their demands. Avoid ale. Headaches and hangovers make for a less effective warrior. Remember to visit with elves as often as you wish. Go bid Indiriel and Laeste goodbye before you go. I have assigned Erestor to her guards. They will travel to the woodland settlement with the last group."

Elrond nodded. "Thank you, Ereinion. My heart fears the day when Elros and I will not be together. I need to…" his voice trailed off.

"There is no need to explain, Elrond. Such fears are only natural given how cruelly you were separated from your parents. They may not have any other significance." He said gently. "Go, fight well. Then return to me whole and healthy for a change." Elrond smiled in agreement then bowed and departed.

Xxxxxxx

Elves and men marched out the next day. The sons of Eärendil led the contingent of men. It was a grueling march across and then up the Sirion River until they joined with the Hosts of the West, led by Eonwë. For the next several years, the allies fought together, coordinating their offensive and defensive strategies. Yet they kept their forces somewhat segregated with divisions containing either elves from the West, men, or elves of Middle Earth. Small numbers of dwarves also fought with the allies.

Elrond alternated between numerous roles. The most intensive one involved fighting alongside Elros. But he also found himself caring for the injured in the Edain's healing tents. He was thankful for his ten years of training under Silsilalda's and Noenri's tutelage. He was thought to be too young and inexperienced in the elven healing tents. But in the Edain camp, he was thrown directly into a leading role. Often he found himself instructing their senior healers on hygiene and wound care. He was pressed into life-and-death judgments and hurried surgeries. Elrond trained many men in the art of healing and often crossed between the camps to consult with the more experienced healers for the well-being of his patients. Elrond, in his need, laughed away any insults about his age and status and pressed the elves for help and information. It was the peredhel's continuous requests that slowly established bridging interactions between the two sets of the healers, catalyzing a useful exchange of knowledge.

Amongst the Edain, Elrond had in nearly three years acquired a formidable reputation. There were few among men who were not aware of his prowess as a warrior and his aptitude as a healer. Injured men who regained consciousness in the eldar's healing tents often said his name with great reverence. The Eldar healers tried not to scoff, given that the young son of Eärendil had yet to reach his majority.

In key skirmishes and confrontations, Elros always called on his brother to fight by his side. In such situations, Elrond was not surprised to turn and find his golden guardian nearby as well. Remarkably, Elrond escaped physically unscathed through these battles, perhaps due to both good fortune and the intensity of his training with Glorfindel. Elrond tried to push out of his mind that horrible day when Elros had suffered a serious wound to his chest. The thought of his brother's warm blood cascading over his own fingers as he frantically tried to staunch the bleeding still unsettled him.

Xxxxxxxx Several weeks earlier.

Glorfindel and Cirulian returned to Elros' battalion, seeking to relay messages and battle tactics from Eonwë. The earth still smoldered in places the dragon's fire had ravaged.

"Glorfindel!" Mikeal, Elros' second in command, called. "What news?"

"The enemy's offensive has been halted through allied efforts. Our contingent sustained heavy losses. What of your men? Where is Elros?" Mikeal paled visibly.

"We sustained heavy casualties as well." The warrior relayed. "Elros was seriously injured. Elrond tends him."

"How badly?" Glorfindel gasped.

"Were he truly a man, he would be dead. Give me the messages; I continue to try to secure our defenses," Mikeal said hurriedly.

"I would be honored to help you." Cirulian offered, sharing worried glances with Glorfindel.

"Here are Eonwë's orders." Glorfindel handed the papers to Mikeal.

"Thank you," Mikeal replied, then turned to Beleford. "Update Glorfindel on our current situation while you escort him to Elrond." Beleford and Glorfindel walked swiftly to Elros' tent while the man quickly assessed their current situation. Beleford stopped just outside the entrance.

"Tend Elrond, I think he sustained an injury as well, though he focuses only on his brother." Glorfindel nodded and entered the tent. He found Elrond sitting next to the still form of his brother. From the position of the bandages, Elros had suffered a chest wound. His breathing was shallow but steady. The light of his being unsettlingly dim. Elrond did not look up. He seemed almost as motionless as his brother. His face was ashen.

"Elrond," Glorfindel called, but the peredhel did not respond. He moved closer and laid his hand gently on Elrond's brow. It was slightly warm with fever. Only at the contact did Elrond stir.

"Elrond, it is I, Glorfindel." The silver eyes lit with recognition. "How is he?"

"I have done all I can," Elrond whispered. "I know not if it will be enough. His life hangs in the balance. The next few hours will tell."

"You have done all you can. Trust in Eru that he will survive." Glorfindel said. He moved to unlatch Elrond's armor. The lower fasteners had been severed, and dried blood colored the gray chains.

"Elrond, let me check your injuries." Glorfindel worried at the peredhel's confused gaze.

"Tis nothing," Elrond said wearily. "I fear for Elros. The wound was grievous."

"You need to be well when Elros awakens." Glorfindel chided, taking advantage of Elrond's concern for his brother. He gently removed the armor and tunic. Thankfully, he found only shallow cuts that had already scabbed over. He bathed the area and slipped a clean tunic over Elrond's head.

"You have become a skilled healer. Elros will be well." The golden warrior freely lied, hoping it would prove so. Rest now; I will guard you both."

"Wake me if there is any change." Elrond relaxed and slipped into light sleep. Glorfindel sat down, keeping careful watch over the two peredhil. He rejoiced as he saw tiny but perceptible improvements in Elros' breathing and color.

Sometime after midnight, Mikeal stopped in. He was not surprised to see Glorfindel wide awake and guarding the sons of Eärendil.

"How do they fare?" He asked softly.

"Elros will heal. I believe that he is past the danger point." Glorfindel said. Relief passed through Mikeal.

"I see you tended to Elrond. Was he seriously hurt as well?"

"Nothing serious, just a few scratches." Glorfindel mused. "He has given much of himself to treat his brother."

"It was my mistake that led to the accident. If I had been paying attention, the orcs would not have broken through our line." Mikeal paused, looking carefully at the two brothers to reassure himself that they both lived. "They came to my aid."

"It is not your fault. It is war. Only the enemy is to blame. Talking about the incident may help you to recognize the enemies' tactics. It could help keep you safe in the future."

"You are wise, my Lord." Mikeal replied. The two warriors talked late into night.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

That fearful incident occurred months ago, yet it was hard for Elrond to put it out of his mind now that Elros was again advancing into battle. Indeed, the brothers fought together as one barely straying from each other's sides in battle. Glorfindel and Mikeal could often be spotted close by. In the last offensive, Morgoth's forces thrust boldly into the allied lines. The Host of the West spear-headed defensive maneuvers but men, mostly those from Easterling settlements and others that Morgoth had coerced to his side, formed a second attack from the side, focusing on Elros' battalion. This strategy fostered confusion as men fought against men. Dragons unleashed deadly fire from high above, beyond the reach of their archers. Unanswered, this weapon could have brought a decisive strategic advantage to Morgoth had not the allied forces been aided by the Eagles and by Earendil's ship. The Vingilot battled the dragon from the air. Again, the battle raged to a stalemate. It was apparent to all that this war would not be quickly won.

"Elrond," Glorfindel entered, interrupting the brothers' strategizing session. Mikeal and Beleford had just exited. "Gil-Galad requests that you join him for the next few days." Elros and Glorfindel exchanged poignant glances unbeknownst to the weary healer, who, after fighting fiercely in the morning, had spent the remainder of the day treating the injured.

"I would like that very much." Elrond yawned and slouched lower in his seat nearly overcome by exhaustion. "That is if you can spare me, Elros."

"Of course, brother. Just promise to get some sleep," he teased. Send my regards to your King." Elrond was too tired to notice his brother's teasing.

"I can join Gil-Galad tomorrow," Elrond noted, rubbing his bloodshot eyes but not rising from his seat.

"Here, this will help," Glorfindel said, pressing a glass of Miruvor into the unsteady hands. He studied the elf carefully, noting the dark circles under the eyes and blood-stained tunic, as well as the disheveled hair that had once been discretely knotted to make it appear shorter. "Could his brother not see that he was sorely overtaxed?" Glorfindel thought.

"I have taken the liberty of packing a few of your belongings for a short stay."

"You wish to leave now?" Elrond repeated in confusion. "Truly, I have been on duty almost two days straight. I would sleep first."

"Worry not," Glorfindel said cheerfully. "We will not be walking. My horse is outside. We can go as soon as you have changed into a less morbid tunic." He said, indicating the bloodstains and then throwing him an extra tunic. "At least, I think this one is from your clean pile." They rode mostly in silence, Elrond leaning tiredly on the warrior in front of him.

"Hold on tight, young one. I do not wish to explain to Gil-Galad how you fell from my horse."

"You are the one who dragged me from my bed." Elrond hissed but gripped the warrior around the waist. It was almost an hour later when they arrived at Gil-Galad's tent.

"Your passenger is sleeping." Cirulian chuckled by way of a greeting.

"He is weary, serving double duty as both a warrior and a healer," Glorfindel said.

"Who would risk a precious healer in battle?" Cirulian questioned. Indeed, they had far too few healers.

"In war, a commander must use all his people to their full capacity," Glorfindel explained. "But Elrond has more than earned a rest." Cirulian helped Elrond from the horse. The exhausted peredhel could barely stand and leaned heavily on the elven warrior. Glorfindel dismounted and guided the youth into the tent and to a cot in the corner. He struggled momentarily with the awkward braid before releasing the silken hair from its knots.

"That should make for a more comfortable rest. Does your brother allow hair this length?" He teased, noting with approval that Elrond's hair nearly reached his elbows.

"I try to keep it up so it is not so obvious. I could do without the incessant 'beautiful maiden' comments." He managed to explain through a yawn. Then Elrond nestled under the blanket, succumbing immediately to sleep.

The hour was late indeed when Gil-Galad entered. Glorfindel was reading at the table. The warrior quickly stood and bowed to the High King.

"As you were, Glorfindel." Ereinion laughed quietly. He spied the sleeping figure. "Does he suspect?"

"No, my Lord." Glorfindel smiled. "He was far too weary. I doubt that he even realizes the significance of tomorrow." Gil-Glad studied the youth, smiling approvingly at the length of his hair.

"Is he at ease among Men?" Gil-Glad asked curiously. He wondered if his plans for tomorrow would be welcome. He was well aware of Elros' opinion on the matter.

"He moves fluidly between men and elves. At ease in both worlds but hiding a part of himself in each." Glorfindel gave his honest assessment.

"His hair is frowned upon, at the very least." Gil-Galad sighed.

"Yes, he takes great care to obscure its length. He does not take kindly to the jokes of men concerning his masculinity. But then again, the teasing has not forced him to conform to their standards. Most interesting is his preference for elven clothing. I found only a few items in the style of men among his belongings."

"He looks exhausted. Does his brother not realize he is forcing too many duties on him?" Ereinion stated in concern.

"You would do the same in Elros' position," Glorfindel observed. "He is their 'senior' healer, stands next to Elros in battle, and provides much counsel and strategic advice."

"Their senior healer?" Said Ereinion in astonishment. "How can that be? Elrond was only recently promoted to junior healer by Noenri!"

"Yes, but the men's skill and understanding of the healing arts are much less than ours. He is sorely taxed by these responsibilities but has risen admirably to the occasion. Men hold him in high esteem for his equal treatment of all who seek help. He both oversees and instructs many of the Edain's healers. It is something our own healers frown upon." Glorfindel reported.

"Yet our own healers treat all injured allies regardless of their origin." Gil-Galad protested.

"Yes, but they are uneasy about assuming command over men's healing tents. They do look down upon the secondborn, generally not accepting them as apprentices."

"I heard even the Edain were none too happy to watch Elrond treat the most seriously injured dwarves before their own," Gil-Galad said.

"Yes, Elrond said their injuries were the most serious that day, and he was only doing as Noenri had trained him." Glorfindel shook his head slowly.

"I believe Noenri was referring to elven injured," Gil-Galad smirked slightly. Few besides the peredhel would equate the lives of dwarves with those of men and elves.

"It is not hard to predict that Elrond will be a lightning rod for controversy."

"Yes, a spokesman for tolerance and integration." Gil-Galad agreed.

"Is that what the Valar want?" Glorfindel asked. "They have allowed only two peredhil to remain here. There are no others with heritages that mix the kindreds."

"Who knows? We are here in Middle Earth, as descendants of those who would chart their own course, not simply follow the Valar's directions. It is very clear from Elrond's family tree that liaisons between the kindreds do not end well." Gil-Galad sighed. "Well, I hope Elrond will welcome tomorrow's ceremony."

"You know that he will," Glorfindel said firmly.

"Yes." Gil-Galad smiled. "You are right. He will."

Chapter 44: Life at War

Chapter Text