Memories by Deana Lisi|
No summary provided.
Disclaimer: I don't own Elrond, Legolas, or the twins.
The sound of a shaky sigh filled the room, which was empty but for one person; Elrond, Lord of Imladris, sat chopping roots to add to their medical supplies. Usually, the task was set for the resident healers in the healing wing, but Elrond had recently wanted to fill up as much time as he could; it allowed less time for thought.
Except for today. Today, no matter what he did, he simply could not forget, even for one moment.
No, he would never forget Elros.
Elrond sighed again, unable to prevent himself from thinking of his twin brother, the brother who had chosen to live the life of a mortal rather than an elf. Elros had been blessed to live for five centuries, and had now been dead for many millennia. Tears came to Elrond's eyes, and he tried to fight them back. Why am I so upset? He wondered. So much time has passed…why do I suffer so badly today?
Scooping up the chopped roots, Elrond placed them in a bag before moving onto another. He knew the answer to his question; it was the day before his begetting day, and his thoughts always strayed towards his brother when that day approached. This year was especially hard, for he was achieving the monumental age of six thousand, which brought back an ancient memory. Closing his eyes, Elrond remembered himself and his brother as young elflings, when they used to pretend to be aged elf-Lords.
"I am six thousand years old!" yelled a tiny Elros, standing on a large rock. "I am older than you, Elrond!"
"You cannot be older than me!" the little Elrond exclaimed, laughing. "I was born first!"
"No, you were not."
"Yes I was."
Elros laughed and tackled his brother, and they'd rolled in the grass before jumping up and running towards the house, eager to pester the cook for some sweets.
His thoughts were abruptly broken when the knife that Elrond was still using suddenly ran out of root and sliced into his hand instead. Despite himself, he gave a loud gasp and dropped the knife, jumping to his feet. He tried to look at the wound, but his sight was blurred by tears that he hadn't realized were sliding down his cheeks from his sad thoughts.
The door suddenly opened and Elrond looked up, hoping that it wasn't one of his sons, not wanting the bloody sight to alarm them.
The elf standing there wasn't Elladan or Elrohir, but he might have been one of Elrond's sons for as close as he was to the peredhel family.
"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, having heard the knife clatter to the floor as he passed the room. When he saw the tears on Elrond's face and the blood dripping from his hand, he gave a gasp of his own and rushed forward. "What happened?"
Elrond looked down at his hand, blinking his eyes to clear his vision. What he saw dismayed him; the cut in his palm was quite deep, bleeding all over the table.
Legolas reached out and took Elrond's arm, grabbing a towel that had held the roots and pressed it to the wound.
Elrond slowly reached up his other hand, hoping that Legolas was occupied enough to not see him wipe the tears from his face.
But Legolas had already seen them, and he looked up at Elrond as he tightly held the towel against the older elf's hand. "Whatever is wrong?" he asked, sounding concerned.
Elrond sighed in answer.
"Sit," said Legolas, nudging him towards the chair.
Elrond obeyed, knowing that it would be easier to lay his arm on the table while Legolas tended it.
The action increased Legolas' concern; Elrond was the best healer in all of Middle Earth…he was more capable of seeing to his own wounds than anyone alive. "Come now," said Legolas, trying to lighten the mood. "You cannot be this upset about becoming a year older!"
Elrond smiled slightly, one corner of his mouth barely turning up. "No, that is not quite it."
Legolas watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue.
Elrond had no wish to speak his thoughts, but the gentle, caring expression on Legolas' face beckoned to him. "I…miss my brother."
Legolas' lips turned down in a sympathetic frown. He looked down at Elrond's hand, picking up the towel to check the status of the bleeding. "I am sorry," he said. "If you do not wish to speak of it, I understand, but talking is good for easing the heart's burdens. I am not needed anywhere at the moment." He smiled slightly. "And even if I was, it cannot be more important than this."
Elrond closed his eyes, the younger elf's words touching his heart. He could remember so many times providing a listening ear for Legolas, and he could not refuse the Mirkwood Prince's offer to return the many favors. "We were inseparable," he said. "Much as Elladan and Elrohir are. We knew each other's thoughts, we felt each other's pain…we followed each other into trouble."
Legolas gave a mock-shocked look. "Trouble? Lord Elrond of Imladris, getting into trouble? Surely not!"
Elrond smiled, recognizing the other elf's ploy to make him laugh. "Aye, very much trouble. Nearly as much as you and my sons."
Legolas returned the smile. "Of which each incident was purely accidental."
Elrond shook his head. "I'm sure they were," he said, sarcastically.
Legolas smiled again and took another peek under the towel. "So what did the two of you do to wreak havoc?"
"The typical twin antics," said Elrond. "Pretending to be each other was a favorite, as people were hard-pressed to tell us apart."
Legolas stood from the table. "I'm listening," he said, as he walked over to a cabinet.
But Elrond was silent, his injured arm unmoving on the table as he looked at nothing.
Legolas came back with a cup and placed it before the other elf.
Elrond looked at it and picked it up, knowing what it was for.
Legolas sat down, again putting pressure on the gash in Elrond's hand.
"When Elros chose the life of a mortal, it nearly destroyed me," Elrond said, placing down the empty cup. "I did not know how I would live without him."
"I cannot imagine how hard it must have been," said Legolas, softly.
Elrond sighed again. "It was terribly hard. I do not even know how I survived. I could not eat, I could not sleep…I could not let him out of my sight, for I was so afraid to lose him."
Legolas had no reply, what could he possibly say? Instead, he gently patted Elrond's arm.
Elrond said nothing more, resting his right elbow on the table and dropping his face into his hand. He was quiet for a minute, until he suddenly began to sing.
You are my brother, I'll always be there,
You are my brother, I will always care,
You are my brother, through darkness and light,
While we are together, there's no reason for fright.
His voice shook as he neared the end, and he had to wipe away more tears. "He wrote that for me, once," he whispered.
Legolas was practically fighting his own tears now.
They were both silent for a minute, until Elrond spoke. "It is ready."
Legolas looked at him, puzzled.
"My hand," Elrond said.
"Ah." Legolas nodded, realizing that the numbing herbs that he'd given Elrond had taken effect.
Elrond watched as Legolas stitched the wound, confident that the young elf would do it well. Legolas was one of the finest warriors in Mirkwood, and because of all the fighting that went on in Thranduil's kingdom, his warriors were trained to care for each other's injuries on the battlefield.
A sudden memory came to Elrond, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
Legolas looked up at him, pleased to hear the sound.
"I remember once," said Elrond. "Elros and I heard of an elf maiden who fancied one of us. The friend who told us said that she didn't know that we were twins; she had apparently seen us both at different times, and naturally thought that we were the same person. We were very young, younger than my sons. In fact, we were even younger than you."
Elrond shook his head, amused at the memory. "I think our youth was what made us carry out what we did. We both dressed alike, and I deliberately walked into her path. I cannot recall what we spoke of, but I told her that I needed to do something and would return momentarily. I walked off, and seconds later, Elros appeared, coming from a different direction."
Legolas paused in his stitching to laugh.
"We confused the poor maiden badly. It was very humorous. When she realized that there were two of us, she was rather…miffed, at our game. We never saw her again."
"Oh no," said Legolas. "She must have been quite upset."
Elrond nodded. "We were young and foolish. I regretted it later, but Elros laughed about it for a long time. We may have been twins, but we were slightly different when it came to our emotions. Elros was harder than I. Or mayhap I should say stronger. He never set out to purposely hurt anyone, but it took him somewhat longer than I to feel regret."
Legolas tied off the stitches and wrapped a piece of cloth around Elrond's hand, tying a knot that was tight yet easy to undo.
Elrond looked at him for a minute. "Hannon le," he said. "For your care, and for your ear."
Legolas chuckled at the rhyme as he stood to return the healing supplies to the cabinet. "You have done both for me, many times. I very much hope that your heart is now lightened."
Elrond nodded, smiling as he also stood. "Indeed it is. You have been a son to me since the day that you were born, and I am very grateful." With that, he reached out and hugged him.
Legolas smiled, happily returning the embrace.