Lord of the Rings 1. The Road

Each hoofbeat, each heartbeat, with every step he felt his heart sink. The decision had felt so distant when he had made it, so weighted and heavy, but yet so far away.

Not now. Not anymore. Not today, and never tomorrow.

As they wound through the trees, crossed streams bubbling and bursting, and as the hills rolled away under their feet, he felt the finality of his, no, _their_ decision grow.

He had no words; no words to describe how his heart would break, no words to describe how he would be, and no words to describe how he would never be once more.

Even now, even now his arms felt empty, his hands felt cold, and his being incomplete. And she had not yet left!

Her silver hair flowed loosely in the slight breeze, the light edges idly tickling her neck while thin, pale fingers grasped the reins in a determined, trembling grip.

She rode before him, flanked determinedly by the twins, but while she was still his Celebrian, she was not the same - his old Celebrian would never have needed a bridle nor reins - and she would never, never again be the same.

Not here. Not anymore. There was nothing left that he could do.

The first whiff of heavy, salty air stung, and a tear prickled in his eye. Before, he could still pretend they were travelling to Lorien in the wild green lands of the Shire, but now, now he could no longer deny it.

She was leaving.

He was losing her.

His hand tightened upon the mane of his own mount as he blinked the stubborn tear away just in time to catch her looking back at him with a wistful, almost sorry look in her eyes.

His breath caught in his throat as he returned her gaze with a small, sad smile of his own. No. No matter how much he wanted to rail and scream and cry, his heart could not break now - he had not the time to put its broken pieces together.

He would never burden her with the knowledge that it would break him if she should leave, and she _was_ leaving - they had but days left in each other's company - this was time that would never once more return to him.

He could not, would not, dared not leave her with the sight of his heart breaking, but even as she caught his gaze, he could see the reflection of his heart breaking in her eyes. He turned away first, but her look of strength in frailty promised this, that they would speak about this, and they would speak about it soon.

* * *

The first caclop of hoofs on cobblestone brought him out of his reverie. A hand reached out to soothe his mount, and he dismounted quickly to let a stablehand lead the horse away, and watched as the twins helped their mother off her horse.

A small stab went through his heart, not of jealousy but of pain, but again she turned to lock her eyes on his. In moments, he was by her side, her hand in his as his fingers idly traced up and down the back of her hand.

She cracked a small, rare, smile, and he led her into Mithlond's main hall as the last of the sun's rays crept below the horizon.

* * *

Elladan could barely take his eyes off Naneth, Elrohir noted. His twin usually had words about the old trees of the Shirelands, words about the length of the path, words about anything at all, but not this time. This time, he had ridden the entire journey in silence, nodding or shaking his head, but never truly speaking to anyone. His eyes had stayed fixed on Naneth at all points, almost as if he were afraid that she would disappear should he take his eyes off her.

Wasn't that what they were all afraid of as well?

The smell of the sea suddenly seemed to surround him, the salty winds whipping at his hair as they rushed up inland from the sea.

He could almost see the boats bobbing in the harbor, could almost hear the gulls cry, could almost feel the water lapping at his feet, the grains of sand trapped between his toes.

A cold hand gripped his heart. Naneth was leaving.

She _was_ going to disappear, whether they lay their eyes on her or not, she was going to disappear.

He watched as they disappeared around the corner of the hallway, Naneth and Ada, trailed closely by the silent spectre that was Elladan.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Arwen nudged him gently in the side as she swept past him up the stairs, and Glorfindel's hand on the small of his back pushed him towards the hall into which his family had just entered. Elrohir blinked, and it was only after Erestor walked past him with a thinly veiled look of concern that he gathered himself and took the first step into the hallway.

There was an odd sense of finality to each of his soft footsteps on the smooth wooden floor.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet, stilted affair.

Cirdan, after all, was not the type to waste unneeded breath on pleasantries that no one appreciated, and Elrond was hardly in the mood to make conversation.

Well, no one could blame him, Glorfindel mused, picking morosely at the fish bones on his plate. This was no visit of pleasure - few trips to Mithlond were. He scowled and turned to pushing vegetables around in a circle whilst Erestor looked on disapprovingly, the dark-haired elf having long since resorted to taking frequent sips of some very delectable wine.

There was no one thing in the city itself that Glorfindel disliked - rather, it was the very notion upon which Mithlond had been constructed that he dreaded.

Partings.

He shook his head, as though clearing it of those thoughts, as he let his eyes wander over the remaining occupants of the small table.

Celebrian put up a brave front, but her hands shook sometimes and she seemed uncomfortable inside the building, separated from the stars.

For now though, Celebrian was the least of his worries.

The twins were not taking this well. A fire constantly burned in Elladan's eyes, while Elrohir seemed to be torn between watching his brother and his mother. Elrond was in no condition to notice this, but a quick glance at Erestor confirmed his suspicions.

Arwen worried him as well, but not to the extent of her brothers. The family's little lady had weathered the storm well, and even now sometimes served as the voice of soothing calm when it was needed.

Neither Celeborn nor Galadriel had come, not that it had been much of a surprise, though he had to admit that there was still a tiny part of him that was convinced that the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim would burst into Mithlond at some point during the dinner.

But while Galadriel was strong, she was perhaps not strong enough to watch her daughter sail away to a land forever beyond her reach. Celeborn had stayed with her, for while she was not physically present, there was no doubt that Galadriel would feel their bond splinter in that moment when Celebrian entered the Straight Road.

Forever was a very, very long time, even in the lives of elves.

* * *

"Children, " Ada's voice floated down the table as dinner concluded and they readied to leave the room, "your mother and I want to speak with you in our room after you freshen up."

Arwen's hands froze, and the twins stopped at the threshold, heads turned briefly before Elrohir strode off in search of their rooms, and Elladan grudgingly followed suit. Cirdan had paused briefly on the steps, but an unreadable look passed across his face before he quickly left their family alone.

She almost missed Ada's pleading glance at Glorfindel and Erestor, and barely heard the softly spoken words, "I would also greatly appreciate your presence later."

Arwen watched as Glorfindel's face hardened and Erestor's jaw tightened though neither said a word. She continued watching as Glorfindel shoved his chair back into place with more force than was required and Erestor all but slammed his glass back down onto the tabletop.

Ada turned his head away, and she saw Nana whisper something into his ear. A sinking feeling that she could not place entered her stomach as thoughts began to fly through her mind.

No. She would not make this any larger an issue than it was.

They were going to be fine.

They would make it through tomorrow just fine.


	2. The Decision

"No, " Elrohir breathed, "you cannot ask this of us."

"We're here, " Elladan all but spat, "you cannot stop us now."

Arwen said nothing, heart pounding furiously in her chest as she looked between Ada, Nana and the twins.

Elladan's fists were clenched, Elrohir had a restraining hand on his shoulder, but his tense posture gave away his own anger. Glorfindel and Erestor were leaning against a wall, faces half shrouded in shadow, though the grudging acceptance on the former's face was clear to see.

The line of Ada's mouth was firm, and to anyone else he looked determined, stern and unmovable, but his eyes glistened with pain and his hands were clenched so tightly.

She turned away, a shiver of fear running down her.

No.

This was too soon.

This was too abrupt.

She was not ready.

_You will not go to the docks tomorrow._

"This... you should make the most of this, " was all Ada managed before he swept out of the room, closely followed by Glorfindel. Erestor cast a warning glance at Elrohir who made to go after Ada, and at Elladan whose eyes were burning with fury, before leaving himself.

Nana sat there, a small, sad smile on her face as they watched the twins cast a worried glance at Nana before rushing out of the room, no doubt to attempt to dissuade Ada against this course of action.

Arwen's heart broke as her eyes met Nana's, and in an instant she had thrown herself into those thin arms that had seemed so weak but now wrapped themselves around her so strongly

There she stayed, breathing in Nana's scent and not caring about the world.

The tears that fell onto their shoulders said everything.

* * *

"Why, " Elrohir gripped Elladan's shoulder tightly, restraining his twin who looked just about ready to jump on their father, "at least give us a reason, Adar."

"I... " Adar's eyes widened slightly, as his voice betrayed him and he shook his head firmly, "You cannot sway me in this decision, Elrohir, what use is there in knowing the reason?"

"Because this is ridiculous!" Elladan shook his hand off roughly, taking an aggressive step forward towards their father, "Because we are here, and Naneth is leaving, and you will not let us see her for the last time, that's why!"

"You can see her now, and you will see her in the morning. All I forbid is for you to go to the docks with us."

Elrohir could see that whatever cracks they could have tried to use to change Adar's mind were quickly disappearing as their father gathered and collected himself.

"This is final, Elladan, "his voice was stern and firm now, and Elrohir saw that his brother had also recognized this as a losing battle.

He was, however, unprepared to see his twin's face twist into a hurt snarl, "It's selfish to keep her to yourself now, Adar. It's too late for that."

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed, Elrohir heard an intake of air from behind him that could only have been Erestor, and a flicker of pain crossed over Adar's face.

He suddenly looked incredibly weary.

The air stilled around them, and for a moment they saw the war waging behind his eyes. Elladan said nothing, but suddenly turned to leave, catching Elrohir a little by surprise as he made to follow.

The silence broken only by their footsteps hurt, and then they heard a pained whisper.

Elladan slowed but did not turn. Elrohir stopped, turning.

"I cannot lose you, " Adar's voice floated down the hallway, his thin form (when had he gotten so thin?) silhouetted in the moonlight.

"You are right, Elladan. This is incredibly selfish of me, but I cannot lose you as well."

Elladan paused for a moment, almost as if frozen in place, before he dashed away, running through corridors that he was far too old to be running through, running away from the problems he was too big to be running away from.

Elrohir's gaze flicked between the two just long enough to catch the hurt in Adar's eyes before he took off after his twin.

* * *

Neither of them slept.

Elladan was curled up on a branch outside their window, staring at the stars, idly flipping the hunting knife they had both received for their twentieth birthdays those hundreds of years ago. He had not spoken all evening, but there was nothing that he needed to say - the frustration and agitation rolled off him in waves.

Even the trees had stopped attempting to speak to him.

Elrohir leant on the banister and let the land breeze tickle, let the voices of the trees wash over him.

Their room was one of the few that had no view of the sea - he suspected, no, he knew that Arwen's was the same.

Arwen. She had been the only one of them three to stay with Naneth this night. A small seed of guilt began to grow in his heart.

He should have stayed. There was so little time left, and what had they done but hurt Adar and not spent time with Naneth?

Time. How often in their younger days (Hah, Glorfindel would have a fit listening to them say 'younger days') had they wished that days would pass faster, that time would flow quicker, that things would be over? And now here he was wishing that this day would never end, that tomorrow would never come.

No. It was too late to think of that now. He had not stayed when he should have, and thinking about it now did him no good.

He shook his head, as if to clear it of such thoughts, and Elladan turned to look at him.

_What is it?_

He shook his head again, but those eyes watched him, and Elladan always knew, anyway.

_We should have stayed._

Elladan closed his eyes and turned away. The stars, partially obscured by a few wisps of cloud, said nothing.

Elrohir sighed, laying his head on his arms, closing his eyes and letting the wind wrap its arms around him once more. The trees whispered soft words into his ears, words of calm and sadness, of peace and partings.

There was a soft scraping noise and his eyes flew open.

Elladan's knife had embedded itself in the gap in the flagstones by his feet.

His eyes met Elladan's in an unspoken question.

_You were right. We should have stayed._

Elrohir said nothing but moved over to join his twin on the branch. Elladan raised an almost incredulous, almost amused eyebrow, but drew his knees in to give his twin some space.

It was a few minutes of jostling and awkward elbows in awkward spaces before they settled into an almost comfortable position, the tree branch beneath them bending a little further than it should.

The trees tried to complain, but neither was in the mood to listen to them.

The silence wrapped around them.

_I am sorry._

_It is not me you need to apologize to, brother._


	3. The Dawning Realization

Glorfindel was unhappy with him. No, Erestor was unhappy with him. Glorfindel was downright furious, and Elrond supposed that he had the right to be.

The twins could be a handful even on their better days, and just yesterday he had seen for himself how hurt, and how difficult they could be. Even now, he did not know where they were.

Walking by the sea in defiance, a small nagging voice whispered in his head, dipping their feet into the waves, feeling the grains of sand beneath their feet, and letting the cries of those damned gulls fill their hearts.

He dismissed that thought quickly before it could take root. As angry and bitter as they were, they were still his boys, and would still be rational enough to quickly realize that spiting him for the sake of spiting him would bring them nothing.

"What is it, Elrond?"

He turned as Celebrian entered the room, eyes faintly pink and hands clasped around her elbows that she was trying to stop from trembling.

"Is Arwen asleep?" That was a stupid question. She would never leave Arwen alone in a time like this nor would she leave any of the children alone, for that matter, unless she had to, and there was certainly no reason to do so.

She nodded.

"That's... good, " his throat clenched, his mouth suddenly dried and words failed him as he took her in. He could still see strength in her, strength in that frailty that he could almost believe would one day leave forever, if she just stayed.

But he knew better than that. He did.

_But his heart did not._

She moved over to him, her hands reaching for his and clasping them tightly, offering his strength. This was ridiculous. He should not be the one, he should not, this...

_This should not be so difficult._

The wind gently tickled the curtains, and he watched them out of the corner of his eye. He should be watching her, drinking in every detail for the last time, but somehow, somehow he could not.

"I'm leaving, " she began, and his heart stopped, "and you're not coming with me this time."

He swallowed thickly.

"No, I'm not." He blinked away the beginnings of tears, " this time I cannot follow."

She lay a hand on his chest, "You'll have the twins, and Arwen, and Glorfindel and Erestor and all those still in Imladris who love you."

He nodded slowly, but did not trust himself to answer.

"And Naneth and Adar, though to this day I still do not know if he actually likes you, or if he just puts up with you for me, " she teased.

At once he felt like laughing and crying, and let out a strangled sort of laugh choke.

She smiled a small, sad smile, and in that instant he sensed her loneliness, and her fear. Fear of his own rippled through him, and he took a step forward, closer to her.

"You'll have your Daeradar, and many others who have surely been let out of the Halls of Mandos. Perhaps you'll meet your uncle Finrod. Your Naneth was very fond of him, and he likewise. I'm sure he would love to meet you." He pulled her closer to rest in his embrace.

She raised an eyebrow, not quite convinced.

"Finrod is one of the kindest people I have ever met. If there has been anyone released from those Halls, it has to be him, and besides, "here his voice took on its own teasing note, "Glorfindel cannot be the only one that has been released from those Halls. He's hardly special."

She laughed, a light tinkling sound that he had once despaired to ever hear again.

"You are right. Glorfindel is hardly special. The godfather of all three of our children is a completely ordinary elf that we just so happened to befriend. I'm sure he'll be very amused to hear of that from you."

He said nothing, just smiled and held her as they lapsed into silence.

_Oh, what he would give for them to stay like this forever._

A small, cracked leaf floated into the room, resting gently at the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry, " she whispered, breaking the silence, "I'm so sorry."

"What..." a look of sheer disbelief came over his face, "what do you... No. No."

He shook his head fiercely, "No, you have nothing to apologize for. It is I who failed you." Those last few words were stuck deep in this throat, thick and sticky and painful to force out.

"It is only because of you that I am able to leave."

_I don't want you to be able to leave. I don't want you to leave._

"You know I would follow you, "his voice dropped to a whisper, "you know I would drop everything and follow you if I could."

_I could, but I should not. You know that._

"I know, " she clung to him, "I know and I am glad for that."

She rubbed small circles on his back, "It will be difficult, but you will make it through."

"You will all make it through, and I will wait to see you once more."

* * *

"I cannot believe that we have been relegated to babysitting duty," Glorfindel snapped as he paced back and forth in the small kitchen. The kitchen helpers had long since gone to bed, and now it was only the three of them sitting at the preparation table, a tall bottle of Dorwinion between them.

Cirdan took another sip of wine as Erestor sighed. Glorfindel was a little too good at baiting him, and he was a little too good at falling for those traps.

"You knew this was going to happen."

"No. I knew he was going to take the children here only to stop them from going off onto the docks, but I didn't think that he would leave us in charge of enforcing that and making sure the twins don't do anything stupid."

Erestor raised a disbelieving eyebrow. So everyone had their own way of dealing with this, and Glorfindel's seemed to just be to not think about it at all.

Glorfindel gesticulated agitatedly, "Making sure the twins don't decide to disobey him? They're not going to sit quietly here, or anywhere with us as their mother sails off into the West. They've disobeyed him on much, much smaller things. Mark my words, they're going to be even more difficult than they've ever been. And there's two of them!"

"They're old enough to understand," Erestor tried. Valar knew why he was trying to persuade Glorfindel that the twins were going to be good and sit quietly - he was not himself convinced of that fact. Arwen he could see behaving herself, but no, not the twins.

Especially not after what they had just heard from Elladan earlier this night. Although his words had been aimed to hurt, they had been the last throes, a last painful lashing out to make someone hurt as much as he was hurting. Elrohir, on the other hand, he might be able to expect something of, but not Elladan.

He knew that Glorfindel knew that.

Glorfindel scoffed and said nothing, but the expression on his face spoke volumes. He took a gulp of the alcohol that had nothing at all to do with savoring it, but everything to do with trying his utmost best to get drunk, not that there was nearly enough alcohol on the table for him to do that with.

The logs in the fireplace crackled softly, and they watched the small sparks of dying ashes float up lightly before losing their glow.

"They understand, " Cirdan placed his glass down, "They just don't want to understand. They don't want to admit that Elrond could be right, that they shouldn't go to the water, and that they should not see Celebrian board the ship."

He rose from his seat, working out the few tense muscles that had probably developed less from a hard day's work on the docks and more from listening to Glorfindel rant.

"You'll find, Glorfindel, that the elflings, if they're anything like any of those that have come before them, will often find the most unexpected of ways to prove you wrong."

Erestor fervently hoped that he was right.

* * *

It should not be so difficult to choose an outfit from her wardrobe, but as she stared at the three dresses that hung in her closet, Arwen had to resist the urge to burst into tears.

This was the last time she would see Nana for a long time, and here she was, wasting time trying to decide what to wear.

But it had to be perfect! Nana's last memory of her could not be one that was any less than perfect, and normally it would never matter, because it had never mattered, but now it did! Now it mattered, and it was so difficult, and it shouldn't be so difficult!

She choked back a sob that was not entirely due to the contents of her wardrobe.

There was a knock on the door.

"Arwen?" Elladan.

"Are you alright?" Elrohir.

For a moment there, they sounded like they were back at home again, checking on her before one of the feasts, and everything was going to be the same.

That moment rapidly shattered as she took in the details on the furniture, and felt unfamiliar carpet beneath her feet.

She burst into tears.

In the very next moment, the door swung violently open as the twins charged into her room, fully intent on hurting anything that was causing their sister to cry.

The curtains flapped in the wind, and the wardrobe door creaked a little as she stood there, tears pouring down her face.

Elrohir blinked and Elladan's gaze roamed over the room, but then both twins held their arms out for her like they used to when she was but a small child and they had seemed so much older.

It was silly and childish, and she had not cried like this ever since she had outgrown being able to sit on their laps, but she flung herself into their arms and wept.

"I don't want Nana to leave, I don't want Nana to leave us. I don't want this to happen, _make it stop_."

They said nothing, just held her as she cried her heart out, tears of their own finding their way onto the decidedly foreign carpet.


	4. The Departure

No one ate at breakfast.

Elrond looked a lot calmer than he had been for the entire journey, but he could hardly stop casting sideways glances at Celebrian, almost as if he were afraid that she would disappear the moment he took his eyes off her. The twins, who had appeared with Arwen by their side, looked too weary for food while Arwen herself looked like she was very determined to not cry.

Glorfindel was still fuming, visibly fuming, and Cirdan had very wisely decided to forgo breakfast with them to instead head out to the docks for a few more checks, and possibly to speak to the sailors who would be taking Celebrian out West.

After several agonizing minutes of silverware clinking but no food actually being consumed, Elrond spoke.

"Children," every word looked painful, "Come sit with us for a while."

Wordlessly, they rose, placing forks, knives, napkins and glasses back on the table. Arwen went forward to them at once, but instead of going straight to her mother, she chose instead to stick by her father who looked grateful.

"Elladan, Elrohir," was all Celebrian needed before they flew into her arms, her two large overgrown children capturing her in a big hug.

"We're sorry," Elladan managed, "We're so sorry."

Elrohir said nothing, just rested there for a moment before they began walking out towards Cirdan's sitting room.

There, the family basically collapsed into a big tangled heap of arms, legs and bodies, as each was unwilling to let go of the next.

Erestor watched them with the tiniest sense of jealousy which he rapidly quashed. He would not, could not begrudge them these last few moments of happiness, and he would most certainly not ruin it by looking bitter.

A hand tugged him down and he crashed into someone's chest on his way to the carpet. He turned his head around to see Elladan looking at him, eyes twinkling with amusement. Another hand grabbed his and he felt himself pulled into the tangle of limbs.

Someone that sounded like Glorfindel laughed, and he suddenly found tears in his eyes.

Damn.

* * *

Eventually they extricated themselves, Glorfindel and Erestor were the first to leave the confusion, and Adar soon followed.

Elrohir was wholly unwilling to let go of Naneth, and he could see that Elladan was too. Arwen, well, she had clung onto Naneth like a limpet once they had all collapsed onto the floor, but now she was sitting up and attempting to straighten a few of the creases that had developed in her dress.

Naneth's hand was wrapped around his arm, and Elladan had possession of her other hand. Not caring what the others would think, Elrohir shifted closer, his shoulder brushing her shoulder and the side of his head gently resting next to hers.

Naneth responded by pulling them both closer to her, trembling slightly.

"My darling boys, I love you and will miss you greatly."

He choked back a sob, and he heard Elladan's shaky voice reply for the both of them, "We love you as well, Naneth, and wish you didn't have to go."

"But we know," Elrohir continued before anyone had the chance to get them wrong, "we know you have to go, and we will miss you greatly until it is time for us to meet again."

She pressed a kiss to the side of his head, and turned to do the same to Elladan before she slowly made to sit up, helped by Glorfindel's steady hand. Adar was helping Elladan to his feet, and although he could see the wariness in Elladan's eyes, he knew that his twin was more afraid that he had hurt Adar than that Adar would hold it against him.

He watched them exchange words too low and soft for anyone else to hear, but knew that all was well when Adar wrapped his arms around Elladan.

He almost missed Arwen's outstretched hand offered to help him get to his feet, but grabbed it just before she could get properly upset at him and did his best to not knock her to the floor as he got up. She giggled a little, rather uncharacteristically of her, but Naneth's smile at her laugh was just about priceless.

Then all three of them watched as Adar slowly led Naneth out the door and around the corner and out of their lives.

Elrohir tried not to cry. He could see that Elladan was trying not to cry either.

They tried.

* * *

They did not see anyone else for hours, and no one spoke.

Arwen had run out of tears earlier than they had, and had curled up into a ball on one of the chairs. Elladan had ceased pacing and now instead rested his head against the window frame, eyes closed against the world and fists clenched tightly in his lap. A tear occasionally escaped, but it never quite made it further than the rise of his cheek.

No one came to tell them that Naneth had left, but no one needed to.

As the sun rose up to its zenith, there was an unfamiliar knock on the door, and an unfamiliar voice spoke almost tentatively, "Lord Cirdan invites my lords and lady to the midday meal if you should so choose to partake."

Elladan got up suddenly, displacing the cushion on his lap, a look of brusque displeasure on his face.

"I'm going to take a walk outside."

Elrohir nodded to the unspoken question and gently nudged Arwen awake.

She stirred, rubbing sleep from her eyes, then blinked, confused.

"We're going to take a walk outside, but Cirdan's having the midday meal if you wish to go."

In an instant she was awake, a hand slipping inside his.

"I'll go with you, Elrohir."

_Don't you leave me too._

* * *

Elladan had set off at what was an almost punishing pace, long legs easily eating up the hilly terrain with large strides, but neither himself nor Arwen were having much trouble catching up as they dashed headlong through the trees, clueless as to their destination.

For a brief second, he worried that Elladan would deliberately betray Adar's confidence in them and head straight for the sea to try to catch a last glimpse of Naneth's ship, but he knew that while Elladan had no qualms with endangering himself, he would never put Arwen in harm's way.

They were not going to the sea.

And well, if they were not going to the sea, he was not sure he cared very much about where they were going.

Naneth was gone.

He was sure Elladan and Arwen had both felt it, but something within him had disappeared about an hour ago, something near and dear and precious which he had never known he could live without.

_Naneth was gone._

He almost tripped on a tree root, before turning back to check on Arwen, who was steadfastly almost running after them, a determined look on her face.

His sister had long since been an adult, and had long since outgrown any of her childish habits, and any of those urges to constantly be with her brothers, but sometimes, sometimes he still saw the round face of an elfling, still looked into those eyes that he could never say no to, and felt like he could pick her up, throw him on his shoulders and charge around like a gigantic two-legged steed.

This was one of those times, and he paused, holding out his hand to her. She had not been lagging behind, but something in him now could just not bear the thought of leaving her behind around some corner.

Even if she could protect herself, which she could, and even if she would still be there, which she would, he just felt that somehow, he could not have her there.

He just needed her to be here. Right here. Right by him, right now.

It seemed silly, and ridiculous, even to him, but Arwen grabbed onto his hand, and did not let go.

As they dashed through the woods after Elladan together, a small silly smile began to grown on Elrohir's face.

He did not know what was funny about their situation, could not place why the smile had just appeared, but somehow, somehow it was there. There was something oddly carefree about just running headfirst into the unknown, chasing a shadow that flitted through the trees.

He let out a bark of laughter, and Arwen looked at him funnily for a moment, but he kept laughing, and she finally joined him, giggling for a few moments before she too burst into laughter.

They almost crashed into Elladan, surly faced, confused Elladan, but stopped themselves in time and ended up grabbing him by the shoulders and twirling him around on the spot.

Elladan made to take off again, but this time Arwen grabbed his wrist with her other hand, grinned at him, and refused to either let go, or run off with him.

Elladan frowned, and made a move as if to shake her off. She raised an imperious eyebrow at him (well, she was Adar's daughter alright), which she held for a few moments before breaking down and giggling.

Now, Elrohir laughed too, and jabbed playfully at his twin.

Immediately, the tension bled from his face, and Elladan just sighed before sitting down on the grass, a motion that dragged his two siblings with him and resulted in some rather ungraceful landings on the ground.

He chuckled and gathered them into his arms. Elrohir was sure to wriggle more than was necessary, which sent jolts of laughter through both of his siblings, Arwen giggling all the way.

* * *

Glorfindel found them just as the sun set, Elladan resting against a tree and his two siblings with their heads on his lap, all three of them asleep.

He let them sleep.


	5. Leaving

Leaving the havens was not difficult.

They had readied their horses, packed up their things, and just left.

Somehow, it was easy to leave. In fact, one could say that he was almost anxious to leave, but one did not regularly associate Glorfindel with the word anxious.

He had decided against supervising the twins and Arwen yesterday - Elladan was wilful, and Elrohir could be counted amongst the most stubborn elves he had ever met (well, perhaps not quite as stubborn as his father), but both had enough sense between them to know what to do, and what not to do. They would never endanger Arwen, would never voluntarily do things that would hurt her, and they would not leave her alone.

That alone ensured that they would not do anything dangerous.

And Arwen, well, she had plenty of sense too.

Instead, he had joined Erestor in babysitting the last overgrown child of the house of Elrond. Well, that was putting it harshly.

He had stood with Elrond at the docks, watched as the small craft carrying his Lord's heart sailed out far into the distance, and watched as Elrond stood there, letting the wind toss his hair about, drinking in the sounds of the gulls and the lapping of the waves, and broke, quietly broke until he was kneeling on the wooden planks smoothened by hundreds and thousands of feet passing over them to never return.

He had then left Erestor in charge of ensuring that Elrond did not attempt to drown himself, before going off in search of the children. While he trusted them to not do anything dangerous, he was not quite so sure he trusted them to not do anything stupid.

His suspicions had begun to grow when he bumped into Cirdan who casually mentioned that none of the children had shown up to the midday meal, and that feeling of utter dread confirmed when he entered the room where they had been last seen only to find cushions strewn over the floor and no signs of their occupants.

The trees had not been all that helpful. "You worry too much, the elflings are safe," told him nothing about what they were doing, and where they were, and besides, the trees had always had some weird notion of what was safe.

It had been clear, however, once he set foot into the forest, that their concern had not been with hiding their tracks. In fact, the trail that they had left him was as clear as day as they had basically bumbled through the forest paths, churning up leaves and leaving marks on almost every surface.

He had tried not to be too upset at how they were so quickly forgetting his teachings, but quickly dismissed those thoughts as him being ridiculous.

He was being ridiculous, after all.

It took him less than an hour to locate them, or rather, follow their path, and he found them sleeping under a tree in a pile. He had almost been about to wake them, to scold them for not telling anyone where they were, and to chide them for worrying them all, but really, no one had been actually worried, and besides, they looked somewhat content.

Far from it for him to be the one to wake them up and disrupt this rare moment of peace that they had.

So he had left them there, and also decided to leave an extremely visible trail of a shorter, faster and less strenuous path back to the main house just in case they woke up in the middle of the night and decided to return.

His own return had found Erestor and Elrond nursing drinks in silence in a small antechamber that was about as far away from Elrond's room as was physically possible in Mithlond. He had, of course, promptly joined them and watched with slightly growing dismay as Elrond proceeded to clam up and attempt to drink himself into oblivion at the same time.

Erestor had looked helplessly at him, but neither of them really knew what to do.

Something on this magnitude had only happened once before, and then, neither had been the people that Elrond had turned to. Sure, they had not been entirely spurned, but they were not Gil-Galad.

And well, this time, there was no Gil-Galad. Sure, they had managed to coax him out of his cracking shell shortly after the end of the Second Age, but that had been more that his duties had required him to be whole again, and Celebrian.

Celebrian had helped so much then, and now...

Now, well, it was just him and Erestor. And maybe the children.

He had knocked back another glass of alcohol, felt it burn down his throat, and watched as the other two did the same.

He had no words. What could he say that would, or could even begin to make this better? The only thing he figured could help was that they would eventually meet again, but when that would be, and whether it was going to be before the world was unmade he did not know, and no one could say for sure.

They drank in silence until the sun came up, at which point Cirdan himself had dropped by the room to quietly mention that their horses had been readied, and that he could have the children woken up if they wished to leave.

Yes, they wished to leave, but as Erestor shot him a glance, Glorfindel had hastily corrected Cirdan that yes, they wished to leave, but after midday would perhaps be a better time, as it would place them in the woods outside of the Shire just as night fell.

The elf lord understood - the smell of alcohol hung heavy around the room, and there was no doubt that their garments reeked of drink. It would not do to meet the children in such a state.

They had offered to help Elrond, but while he had been slightly tipsy, face somewhat reddened, he had risen to his feet with more grace than they had expected, and seemed to still be in command of his faculties.

Erestor had clucked like a mother hen before Glorfindel forcibly dragged him away to give Elrond some space, though not without extracting from him the promise that they would see him at the meal, or that he would at least eat something before they left.

Elrond had given them an almost half-hearted smile before heading in a decidedly ungraceful manner in the direction of a room that Cirdan had had prepared for him. Now beginning to nurse a growing headache, Glorfindel had quickly abandoned Erestor to his own devices and stalked off in search of a place to rest his head.

And now, well, they were here, riding back home.

The children looked far less relaxed this morning than they had the evening before, but the lack of any anger or annoyance on Elladan's face, and the cool, organized efficiency with which Elrohir seemed to approach everything were good signs. Even Arwen looked somewhat calm and collected, and while she might have noticed their somewhat less than completely sober state, she mentioned nothing of it, just riding in the rear by Erestor, who was by far the least drunk, and casting the occasional wistful glance back at where they had just departed from.

Their much smaller party had set a rapid pace, clearly winding their way through the woods by the Shire by the early evening, and now passing by the lands of Bree even as the sun just began to touch the tops of the trees behind them.

Well, perhaps it was not going to be as long of a ride home as he had envisioned it to be.

* * *

They rode into Imladris just as the dawn broke, the twins' steeds rocketing into the main clearing in an unbidden race that had begun miles further down before they had crossed the Bruinen. The stablehands were mildly surprised, but these were the twins, and one did not usually associate calm and control with them.

What surprised them, and Lindir who had emerged from the House to greet them, was that the twins had let their steeds be lead over to the stables, before vanishing, presumably to their rooms, not waiting for the others to arrive. While it was not required for them to do so, it was generally regarded as good manners, as giving their party respect, and if there was still anyone on this side of the Sea that the twins respected, that would be the members of their party behind them.

Some put it down to stress, others put it down to grief, and some just shrugged - the twins would be the twins. After they had come of age hundreds of years ago, those who could rein them in could be counted on one hand.

_And now the one to whom they had always listened to was gone._

* * *

Erestor sighed as he watched the twins race off into the rising sun, churning up patches of dust as they passed. A glance at Glorfindel confirmed that he was not the only one that was annoyed by their actions; the twins' instructor looked like he was a hair's breadth away from chasing them down and giving them a dressing down in front of all of Imladris.

Glorfindel's patience had long since been worn thin - he was a mighty warrior and an excellent strategist, but he regularly dealt with largely reasonable people, and while the twins had been rather reasonable so far, sometimes Erestor and Glorfindel were once more reminded of how young the twins actually were in the grand scheme of things.

Not that they had been outright disrespectful (Erestor was still having difficulty reconciling the Elladan he knew with the same one that had spat those hateful words at his father, and there were times when he felt that the two switched between themselves as he blinked), but they had been far from helpful, and the minimal contributions that Glorfindel had expected, such as willingly scouting ahead or taking watches, had needed to have been prompted or requested.

The twins had withdrawn into their own world. They sometimes involved Arwen, and the three of them would sometimes ride off ahead for hours unbidden, only to return at nightfall. Other times, mostly at night, one would wake, followed by the other, and they would quickly disappear off into the trees that lined the path for the night, and return only at daybreak when the party had packed up and were prepared to leave. This had all been much to Glorfindel's immense displeasure, and Glorfindel's displeasure was downright contagious - it radiated from him in waves and was incredibly obvious; there had been times when Erestor had caught himself scowling in their direction.

As for Elrond, well, their lord had basically retreated into a quiet, unassuming shell, a far cry from the powerful elf that commanded their respect with ease. He had spoken once in their company, thanking Cirdan as they had left Mithlond, but not once since they had begun the ride home had he said anything, reduced to casting worried glances at the children on his better days.

And speaking of better days, the fact that Elrond had better days and worse days was something that worried him. The better days were those when he seemed to remember who he was, where he was going and who he was with. On the worse ones, Glorfindel had to send Arwen and the twins ahead to scout the way while they remained behind to deal with his stony, glazed silence.

To say that he was not himself would be a gross understatement - there were times when Erestor was not even sure if that same person he saw riding beside him was Elrond anymore.

* * *

"Did you... " Glorfindel looked over at him. He shook his head.

"No, I left no special instructions."

Erestor frowned, an unspoken question in his eyes.

_Should I have?_

Glorfindel's mouth twitched as they both watched Arwen and then Elrond dismount and head up the stairs into the main hallway. Erestor noted Glorfindel's troubled gaze sweeping across the courtyard. The stablehands ducked out of the way, most of them having once been trained by the formidable warrior, bodies and minds still remembering his punishing regimes.

Other than that though, it seemed like the same place, the same homely house that had had the honor to call his home. He saw no differences in the trees, smelled no different scent in the air, felt nothing changed in the earth beneath him.

"Perhaps it is for the best," Glorfindel sighed, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and then exhaling softly. Erestor watched as all the tension bled out of Glorfindel's stance. At once he looked frightfully sad, as if the world had given up on something that Erestor was not yet aware of.

"What is?" He voiced the question that had been on the tip of his tongue, and Glorfindel sighed softly before turning to let Asfaloth free to roam back to the stables.

The soft chirping of the waking birds, the rustling of leaves in the gentle morning breeze, and the tiniest ever-present rush of water from the Bruinen so far away, were all that he heard for the moments as he awaited Glorfindel's reply.

Glorfindel straightened, and his eyes flew to the bushes that Celebrian had planted two months before the twins had been born. Erestor's followed their path as they traversed the myriad of changes and miniscule touches that she had laid into the facade of Imladris.

The realization hit him, and he understood.

What a fool he was to think that the journey, the immediate period after she had left would have hurt the most.

_What a fool he was._

Erestor swallowed.

Glorfindel nodded, slowly, sadly.

"Everywhere they look, everywhere they turn, everything they touch, everything they see, Erestor."

_They see her here._

_They see her in everything here._


	6. Breaking

It was the same. It seemed the same.

Nothing much had changed. Her flowers still bloomed outside their window, her gardening tools still rested on the balcony, her scent still hung in the air.

Their bed was as unmade as they had left it, but it was empty, so empty. The shawls that usually lay strewn over her chair were gone. The chest of most of the belongings she had brought with her from Lorien was also gone, and the emptiness of the backboard in her half of the open closet hurt more than he thought it might.

If he closed his eyes and insisted on fooling himself, he could almost believe that she was away in Lothlorien, visiting her parents.

It was perfectly reasonable that she would have packed her closet - one did not stay for months in one's parents' kingdom dressed like a pauper, and to do so, she would have taken her chest of belongings. It made sense.

It all made sense.

_He could still make it make sense._

He felt his hands shake, and looked down at them in surprise, before quickly clenching and unclenching them. Control. He needed control.

He took in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, eyes closed, imagining, imagining, imagining.

This was not the first time he had returned from a journey to find her elsewhere.

He could do this.

A bath was in order but the evening meal would be served shortly. Well, if he took a short bath, he would make in time.

Trembling hands reached up to undo the laces, and he shrugged the riding vest off, resisting the urge to fling it as hard as he could into a corner, to shake all the dust and the dirt and the travel and the leaving out of him.

The tiles that she had picked out just before Arwen had turned five laughed at him.

He took another deep breath.

Calm. Control.

_They were still laughing._

He deliberately looked down only at his tunic, and reached for its fastenings. His fingers were shaking, and he could hear himself breathing. The fastenings did not want to come undone.

He took yet another deep breath, this time holding it in.

The world turned to silence around him, save for the steady but rising beat of his heart. Suddenly, that was all there was, his heart beating rapidly, ba-thump ba-thump, and everything else almost ceased to exist.

He bit back a cry, and all but tore the tunic off.

_He felt a seam rip, felt the satisfying separation beneath his fingers._

In trying his best to not look at the tear, he looked up momentarily and caught a brief glimpse of one of a her favorite soaps on the counter.

_A shiver ran up his back to his shoulders._

This time, this time he tossed the tunic at the back of his chair. It missed, hit the backrest and slid onto the ground, crumpling into a heap.

He broke, broke, grabbing out at something, anything to keep him upright, keep him afloat.

He grabbed onto air, and it did not hold him up. It did not hold him up the way she would have, with her gentle hands, her tinkling laugh and her knowing exactly what to say.

It did not hold him up.

_It did not hold him at all._

* * *

She could hear him crying.

_She had never hear him cry. Never._

She could hear him crying a soft, low sound, and she could almost see him in her mind's eye, bent over himself, back against a wall, a hand pressed to his mouth to muffle the sound.

_He wouldn't want anyone to hear. Wouldn't want anyone to know._

She could almost see his head rocking slowly back and forth, mouth trembling as he fought to keep himself together, could almost see the tears pouring from eyes squeezed so tightly shut that the world shifted and changed behind his eyelids.

_She wanted to reach out, wanted to burst into the room, wanted to hold him, wanted to say that he still had her, that he still had them._

She could almost see the memories playing in his head, could almost see him tearing himself apart from the inside, could almost see him.

_But she couldn't._


	7. Falling

Glorfindel stretched, kicking his boots off and tilting his chair back as far as it could go before hitting the windowsill behind him with a thunk.

He hated filling up forms and writing down reports, detested having to take notes, and really, really despised having to be nice to people who really just wanted to take advantage of Elrond's absence.

Erestor looked no less exhausted, having borne the brunt of the idiocy of the travelling merchants who had just attempted to sell them wine from some faraway land of Man, claiming that it was the oldest, most flavorful spirit they would ever have the opportunity to taste. Oldest. Hah. You would think they had never traded with elves before.

Thranduil would have probably threatened to have their heads lopped off - he had been very tempted to suggest that to Erestor, but felt that Elrond would not have appreciated it even if it had been sanctioned.

He got up from the chair, making sure to make as much noise as possible. Sure enough, Erestor shot him a dirty look before returning to those damned papers that had held his attention for the entire day. Glorfindel was secretly quite surprised at exactly how much needed to be recorded, and how urgently it had needed to be recorded, but he had let none of that show.

In short, he had been on his very best behaviour. So good that it was almost appalling, really, but well, he had to make up not only for Elrond, but only for those errant sons of his. The twins usually fulfilled diplomatic roles, bartering with the merchants and settling smaller disputes within the Valley that did not usually require their father's attention. This rowdy band had actually been awfully fond of Elladan, having asked after him on multiple occasions.

In any case though, the sun had set, the traders had left, the house had once more become quiet, and it seemed like their very first day back had passed with little to worry about, and it would not be remiss if he now returned to fooling around and being annoying in general.

Oh, who was he fooling.

He sighed, and this time, Erestor looked up from his papers, putting them down with a huff.

"Yes, you may leave, Glorfindel. I'm perfectly capable of finishing this amount of work on my own. Now shoo, and cease disturbing me."

Glorfindel was not used to people flapping their hands at him, and thought to mention it, but quickly decided that his energy would be better used to other purposes.

That the house had been quiet meant that it was more likely than not, that the twins were out somewhere. If he were lucky, he would find them on the bluffs by the waterfalls. It was, however, far more likely that they had ventured out beyond the borders - there was a small almost-clearing in the woods that he knew they favored. There had been many a time when he had found a purported missing elfling in the arms of those trees.

Now that they were fully grown and were home, though, he was somewhat less inclined to go chasing after them. It was Arwen that he was slightly more concerned about. She would usually drop by Elrond's office in the afternoon for a few short moments if she were not otherwise occupied, just to meet some of the traders, or simply to bother her father.

He had not seen her since they had ridden into Imladris this morning, and that concerned him.

Erestor was staring pointedly at him by this point, "Well, if you're not going to work, you should just leave. If you're not going to leave, you might as well work. What's it going to be, Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Erestor, instead settling for huffing and leaving the room without a parting shot.

Erestor, however, was not quite so obliging. "Thought so," echoed down the corridor after him and he cracked a small smile. It was nice to see that some things never changed.

* * *

His feet brought him to rest outside the corridor that lead into their family wing. They had never needed other light, nor needed the extra warmth that torches would give, but now, now, with the swaying branches casting moving shadows into the hallway dimly lit in the moonlight, with the silence broken only by the sounds of leaves and the slow, soft whoosh of the light breeze, with the absence of life, he could not help but feel like the flickering of fire, and the gentle, steady warmth would be nice.

He climbed the three steps, footfalls silent against the stones as he strode towards Arwen's room. The doors to the twins' rooms were shut tight, and air rushed out from the small gap between the bottom of the door and the floor - they were out in the woods tonight. He did not bother checking, knew that for now, they would take care of each other in that special way that only they could.

Arwen's door, however, was slightly ajar, and this he eased open slowly.

"Arwen?"

The soft sound of sniffling, and he turned to see her in a corner of the room, knees pulled up to her chest, head buried in her knees.

T.A 241

"Arwen," he felt the words in his mouth for the first time. Elrond's eyes were sparkling, the Lord of Imladris looked like he was about to ready to jump up and down and proclaim his joy to the world.  
Glorfindel was marginally less excited, not because he was not looking forward to another elfling in the household, but more because he was not looking forward to cleaning up another mud splatter, or climb another tree to rescue more imaginary friends.

"It's a beautiful name," he smiled, and he noticed Celeborn shooting him a disdainful look from across the room. Well, it was a beautiful name. What else was he supposed to say? He had not yet even met the babe, there were no other adjectives that he could use that would be sincere.

Elrond, on the other hand, looked just plain over the moon. "Wait till you see her," his grin was ridiculously large, and Glorfindel was beginning to see why the ladies had kicked him out of the room after Arwen had been delivered.

The twins were, as expected, slightly less excited about having a new sibling. Although they had long since outgrown the stage when they would be jealous of a newborn, they were certainly not looking forward to changing nappies or dealing with a newborn's cries in the middle of the night. Now, those were some opinions Glorfindel could understand - he had lived through the twin terrors, although he supposed that one baby would be better than two.

Before Celeborn could shoot him any more disapproving glances, the door swung open, and Galadriel emerged.

"If you boys can behave yourselves..."

Elrond was halfway through the door before she could finish the sentence, Celeborn hot on his heels, and the twins following curiously. He was about ready to wait outside, since he would have plenty of time to acquaint himself with the new spawn, no, the new offspring of Elrond.

The full force of Galadriel's gaze turned upon him, and he was at the door in seconds.

_I don't have to like the baby._

She laughed, a soft tinkling sound in his head.

_That's what you said with the twins, and look what we have here._

He ignored her, and stepped through the door.

All he could see around the family was a small bundle in Celebrian's arms and a light sprinkling of dark hair. The twins had fallen silent, having taken places on either side of their mother, larger fingers gently brushing their new sibling's arm.

Celeborn had also made his way to his daughter's bed, and seemed enthralled by the small babe. Silly Sindar, Glorfindel sniffed, but kept his usual snarky comments close to his heart. Goodness knew he did not need any more of Galadriel in his head.

Then suddenly the babe and Elrond were in front of him.

"Hold her?" He was about to shake his head, but Celeborn raised an eyebrow in a challenge. Well, there was no way he was going to back down from a challenge like that. And definitely not to Celeborn.

He suddenly found himself with an armful of small, warm elfling. The babe frowned, eyes closed, and squirmed slightly. He shifted his hold on her, and she settled into his arms.

Well, baby. Fairly attractive baby. He could deal with that.

Elrond beamed at him, and for some unknown reason (which he supposed was some Valar's idea of a joke), his arms trembled, and he almost, almost dropped the baby.

Glorfindel almost died right there on the spot, and Celeborn was about to roast him, or commit some equivalently unspeakably painful act to him, when suddenly the babe's mouth opened.

The room held its collective breath.

Instead of breaking into the shrillest cry he had ever heard, he witnessed the cutest silent yawn he had ever seen in his life, and then it happened.

Her eyes opened and met his, and for a moment, for that one moment, the world ceased to exist.

_I told you._

Galadriel laughed.

* * *

"Arwen?"

In a flash, he had crossed the room, and sat down next to her, putting a comforting arm over her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. Her sobs grew more violent as she turned and buried her face in his chest. His other arm found its way around her and drew her into a hug.

A sudden burst of anger flared in his heart at his inability to make this better, but he rapidly quashed that and said nothing, just sat there for a moment, letting her slowly calm herself down, letting her cry those tears, letting the sorrow drain out of her, out of the room, away from them.

The sobs lessened, and then finally stilled, but she did not pull away from his embrace, now instead winding her arms around his middle, and leaning back against him, eyes closed as she fought to get her emotions back under control.

The silence stretched before them, his slow steady breaths helping to calm her down and ground her.

"Ada..." she whispered, hands closing tightly over his side.

He said nothing to prompt her any further, but just squeezed her shoulder gently. She sniffed, and then sat up, gently easing his arms off her shoulders, then held a hand out to him to get up, which he took but did not use.

He watched as she collected herself, rubbing tear streaks off her face, trying to rub the sadness from her soul, watched as those efforts failed, watched as the tiny cracks she had been trying to patch up started to crumble again.

She leant into him.

"Ada was crying, Glorfindel. _Ada was crying._"


End file.

Lord of the Rings, Family, Hurt-Comfort