History Lessons, by Nilmandra

Chapter 10: Daerada holds forth

Cries of delight broke the calm of the morning as Elladan and Elrohir raced out the front door to the porch, jumped from the porch to the ground, and then ran for the stables.

Celebrían was just beginning to call them when she felt her mother take her arm. "Let them go. They will wear off some of that energy by the time we reach the barn," Galadriel advised.

"Yesterday they jumped from the top of the porch rail to the ground. When I asked them why, I was told it was necessary to jump that far to get orcs sometimes," Celebrían explained.

"Well, of course it is," Galadriel agreed. "Jumping out of trees is an integral part of warrior training. I recall a certain young elleth who insisted on jumping from trees, out of windows, off the bed. . ."

"Naneth, I fail to recall any such events," Celebrían argued. "Adar always said I was the perfect child, therefore I must have been."

Celeborn, walking on the other side of his wife, remained wisely silent.

"Nana, hurry!" Elrohir stuck his head out from the barn. "You have to see them!"

They entered the barn, the darkness cut by the rays of sun streaming in through the eastern walls. The twins were hanging over the lower rung of the gate to the stall where the ponies stood quietly; above them, Glorfindel sat perched on the stall wall.

"Daernaneth, may we give them the apples?" Elladan asked, the small wrinkled apple in his hand obtained from the remnants of the cellar stores. He had begged it from the cook who never could say no to big elfling eyes.

Galadriel nodded, and each child slipped the apples through the gate, the ponies taking them docilely.

Celeborn leaned against the edge of the stall wall, giving it a hard shove and smiling innocently when Glorfindel had to check his balance with a hand to the gate. The golden haired elf braced his position before looking down at the head of the Sindar elf. In his hand he held several pieces of straw that he carefully pulled into tiny pieces, then let sprinkle down into the silver hair below him. Celeborn felt the pieces settle into his hair, and with one swipe brushed them to the ground, never looking upward or giving any satisfaction to the one sitting above him.

Galadriel's eyes met Elrond's and she nodded for him to open the gate. He did so, to the delight of his sons, and Galadriel led the ponies from their stall. She put the reins of the first pony into Elladan's hands and the other into Elrohir's, and motioned for them to lead the animals out into the open air.

"Daerada, look! He is small like us! I can touch his head!" Elladan was dancing around the pony. The pony regarded him with amusement, finally butting the small hand away from his head and snuffling his nose into the chest of the elfling.

"It tickles!" Elladan giggled, both hands coming up to touch the pony on the nose. He gently brushed the velvety hair between the pony's eyes. Warm brown eyes met his, and the pony whinnied.

Elrohir had made it to the yard, the pony he led following each step he took. He felt a tug on his hair, and he turned his head cautiously to the side to find the pony with one braid between his lips. He tugged on his braid and the pony let go, and then lowered his head, butting the elfling in the lower back, nearly knocking him to the ground. Elrohir ran a few steps, a look of near panic on his face when he heard the hooves of the pony following closely on his heels. He whirled around and faced the pony with his hands on his hips and a stern look on his face.

"Pony, you stop that," he commanded, his demeanor a perfect mimic of his father.

The pony stopped and made a low sound, stomping one leg in the dirt of the corral, then tossing his head to the side.

"What do you want?" Elrohir questioned the pony. He stepped closer, the sad eyes playing upon his soft heart. He put his hand on the pony's nose and began to stroke it gently. He ran his fingers through the dark mane of the beast and the pony nudged his stomach, snuffling warm breath through his tunic. He finally wrapped his arms about the neck of the pony and hugged it.

"You were sad. I think you just needed to be hugged. My nana says everyone needs to be hugged, pony. You would like my nana and my ada," Elrohir continued to talk softly to the pony. "Do you have a family? Do you have a nana somewhere?"

Elrohir led the pony to where his parents and grandparents stood watching.

"Daernaneth, this pony is sad," announced Elrohir as he leaned into the pony, one hand patting the animal's chest.

"Is that pony sad, Elladan?" Galadriel asked the other elfling.

"No," Elladan giggled as the pony continued to snuffle him, this time in the back of the neck. "He just needed someone to play with."

Galadriel appeared to ponder these concerns deeply, her hands clasped behind her back. She bent over the ponies and looked into their eyes, seemingly communicating with them. She stood back and looked down upon her grandsons, who were watching her carefully.

"I see only one possible solution to this problem," she finally said. "I think I must give the ponies to you."

"Daernaneth!" Both elflings wrapped their arms about her as she knelt down by them. "Thank you, Daernana! We will take good care of them. Ada will help us and Glorfindel will help us…"

Galadriel smiled. "These gifts come with responsibility. I expect that you will provide most of their care."

"Yes, Daernana, we will," both elflings promised.

Galadriel picked them up in turn and sat them on their ponies. Both had ridden horses before, but never on an animal the right size for them. They walked them around the yard, warming them up, then allowed the ponies to canter about the corral.

"Ada, can we take a trip with our ponies?" Elladan called out suddenly.

"And sleep under the stars by a campfire?" Elrohir added.

"But only pretend to fight orcs," amended Elladan.

Elrond laughed as he strode into the corral, both sons stopping near him. "I will discuss that with your naneth. First, though, I think these ponies need names."

Elladan leaned forward over the pony, hugging its neck. "He shall be called Thinde."

"And mine shall be Mithren," decided Elrohir.

Elrond laughed at their choices, for both names meant the same thing: grey. While he stayed to supervise their riding, Glorfindel went to find the stablemaster to make arrangements for the ponies to stay and for the twins to be allowed to come care for them.

"We could take them on a small trip," said Celeborn as he leaned against the corral fence next to Elrond. "We would not need to go far. "

Elrond smiled. "They would like that very much. You are sure you do not mind going so soon after arriving?"

"I do not mind sleeping under the stars," he replied. Glorfindel approached them from the barn. "I suppose we must bring Glorfindel?"

"Someone must protect you," answered Glorfindel amiably. He turned to Elrond. "Where are we going?"

Elrond laughed. Celeborn and Glorfindel had amicably sniped at each other for the whole length of time that Elrond had known them both. He had no idea what was between them, if anything. They were gold and silver, both ageless and wise. Glorfindel served and protected those whom Celeborn held most dear, which gave them common purpose. Common purpose, however, had not caused them to cease annoying each other.

"We are taking the twins on a small journey with their ponies," Elrond answered, smiling anew at the light that shone in Glorfindel's face at this news. "We shall stay overnight, for they wish to sleep under the stars near a campfire."

Glorfindel nodded and disappeared.

"Where did he go? And why does he do that?" Celeborn asked in exasperation.

"He will plan and map the journey, obtain provisions, pack the bags and ensure the patrols secure the area before we arrive," Elrond answered, one eyebrow raised as he studied the elf next to him.

"Pretentious Vanyar elf," Celeborn muttered under his breath.

Elrond threw back his head and laughed, the sound so rare that his children and all the elves near the stables turned to the source of the sound. He clapped Celeborn on the back, ignoring the grimace from the stately elf for the humor at his expense.

"Ada, what are you laughing at? Are you laughing at Daerada?" Elladan and Elrohir trotted over on their ponies.

"I am laughing at something your Daerada said," Elrond clarified. "Come, I will show you how to brush down your ponies and then you can feed them and muck out their stalls."

* * *

Glorfindel was finishing packing provisions when he heard elfling feet pad lightly into the room. He smiled as the twins approached him.

"Glorfindel, will there be orcs?" Elladan asked without preamble.

"No, Elladan. Those who guard Imladris keep the orcs far away," Glorfindel reassured him.

"Will there be wild animals?" Elrohir asked.

"There might be," Glorfindel replied. "But I do not think we will see any dangerous animals." He smiled at the crestfallen look this news brought. No orcs brought relief; no wild animals brought sadness. "Although I did once see a bear in the area where we will be camping," he added after a moment.

Elrohir perked up at this. "Ada says we can bring our swords, so we can fight it if it comes too close."

"What are you packing?" Elladan was peering in the packs.

"Food, a change of clothing, first aid supplies, and blankets," Glorfindel checked off his list.

Elrohir looked at him sheepishly. "Can we bring some…well, things that are just for us?"

Glorfindel smiled and tugged on the black braid the elfling was chewing on. He had tucked in these two enough times to know that certain nighttime companions were still brought out on dark nights and safely returned to their hiding places by daylight. "Yes, there is room for some special items."

"Glorfindel, is Erestor coming with us?" Elladan asked.

Glorfindel smirked. "No, Erestor will be staying at the house."

"So then you can't be foolish with each other?" Elrohir inquired innocently.

Glorfindel picked Elrohir up and sat him on the table next to the packs. "Who says we are foolish?" he asked, eyeing the little elfling while suppressing the smile that tugged on his lips.

"Um…no one….I guess," Elrohir refused to meet Glorfindel's eyes and tried instead to slip off the table. He had forgotten that he heard that information accidentally.

Glorfindel poked him softly in the belly and Elrohir laughed. Long fingers danced up the elfling's side, under his arms and down his back; Elrohir giggled as he tried to escape the questing fingers. "Hmmm…..who did you say said that?" Glorfindel tickled under the elfling's chin as he lifted the face to his own.

"Ada did! Ada did!" Elrohir giggled, giving in easily as he twisted and squirmed. "He said you were up to follies."

Glorfindel grinned as he shooed the elflings out the door, final tickles sending them off with squeals and giggles. Driving Elrond mad with worry over what he and Erestor might do was more amusing than actually doing something.

* * *

The ponies and horses were ready, bags slung over their sides, as the sun rose the next morning. Glorfindel was reviewing their plans with the head guard at Imladris and Erestor, on the off chance that someone might need to reach them. The patrols would also know of their location and surreptitiously avoid the area while safely guarding it.

Celeborn and Elrond were dressed for riding in comfortable tunics and trousers, swords at their hips and bows slung over their backs with quivers of arrows. While they were not leaving the boundaries of Imladris, they still would be fully prepared for any enemies that might appear.

"Ada, can we wear our swords?" Elladan eyed his father's sword, his eyes shining in anticipation.

"No, Elladan, it is attached to your pack," Elrond answered as he smoothed back black hair behind a small ear, easing the disappointment on his son's face. "Let us say goodbye to your nana and daernaneth."

Elladan and Elrohir ran to stand before Celebrían and Galadriel, barely holding still for goodbye hugs and then they were racing back to mount their ponies. Glorfindel swung them up and settled them, and it was he who led them away from the Last Homely House. They followed the path across the tributary of the Bruinen and then headed north into the low hills to a favorite location of Glorfindel - a glade next to a stream, a waterfall just north of the clearing, and shallow caves for protection in the western edge of the hills. Here the youngest of novices had been trained in everything from survival in the wild to weapons use with simulated orc attacks from the caves. It was a safe location in that it was within the borders patrolled by Imladris' guards, an easy day's ride from the house, and yet it was wild.

* * *

"Daro!" Glorfindel called from his position at the head of the group.

Elrond immediately stopped, reaching for the reins of Elladan's pony at the same time. Behind them, Celeborn did the same, halting Elrohir's pony with his own horse.

"Ada, why is Glorfindel stopping us?" Elladan asked, craning his neck to see where the elf had gone.

"Glorfindel is checking to ensure that the passes are all open," Elrond explained. "Remember the rangers? They were trapped in a rock slide in a mountain pass on the other side of the mountains." Elrond smiled to see Elladan's face light up at the thought of danger. "A rockslide is not very likely in these hills, but Glorfindel is very cautious."

A whistle was heard, indicating that the way was clear, and Elrond nudged his horse forward. "Elladan, stay by me," he commanded as Elladan had the pony trotting ahead.

Elladan grinned impishly, but immediately slowed until his father was again at his side.

They broke for lunch several hours later, near a small stream in the hills, resting the horses and the elflings. Both children had dismounted carefully, and were walking slowly. The walked for a bit, oblivious to the amused looks of the adults, then settled themselves on the ground, legs straight out in front of them, as they leaned against some large rocks. Elrond brought their food to them, and then sat down on the rock that Elrohir was leaning against.

"Ada?" Elrohir said softly, tilting his head back so he could see his father. "I am sore."

"I thought you might be," Elrond replied. "You are not used to riding for this long. Finish eating, then we will do some stretches and you can run around some. That will help."

Elrohir smiled, his confidence unshaken. Ada did know everything.

Celeborn and Glorfindel sat upon the rocks and watched in amusement as Elrond led the elflings in stretching their legs and backs. They mimicked his every movement, lying on their backs and stretching their legs high in the air, then standing and bending to touch their toes, and finally running up and down the path several times. The elflings then began to chase each other in a circle in some game only they understood.

"Ada, you have to run too!" Elladan grabbed his father by the hand and soon both father and sons were running in circles, finally collapsing on the ground, dizzy and in giggles.

"Ada, I am not sore anymore!" Elrohir announced.

"But now I am dizzy," giggled Elladan.

Elrond lay on his back, his sons sprawled half on top of him, half on the ground, listening as their breathing slowed and they relaxed. Elrond finally sat up, elflings tumbling to the side.

"Shall we continue our ride?"

"Yes, Ada!" Elladan leapt to his feet and ran to the pony. Glorfindel swung him back up on to the animal while Celeborn helped Elrohir remount, then Glorfindel led them forward again for the remainder of their journey.

* * *

"Is this going to be our camp?" Elrohir cried in wonder.

"This is wonderful!" Elladan added.

They both dismounted in the grassy glade, and quickly rushed to the stream. Looking north they could see the mist rising from the waterfall and hear the roar as it crashed to the rocks below.

"Elladan, Elrohir, you must care for Thinde and Mithren before you start exploring!" Elrond called them back.

The twins quickly ran back, freeing the ponies of their reins and packs, and then began brushing them down. Both animals whinnied in delight and nuzzled their small elflings, grateful for the attention. The twins then let the ponies go free, and both animals made for the stream to drink their fill.

"Now, Ada? Now can we go exploring?"

"I have something you might wish to see first," Celeborn said quietly. He had one arm behind his back, and the twins rushed to him.

"What do you have, Daerada?" Elladan asked, trying to see around his grandfather to what he was holding.

Elrohir was slightly more patient; at least he did not try to see what his grandfather was withholding from them. "Daerada, what did you bring?"

Celeborn produced two small bows and quivers, his own face lighting up in a smile at the delighted reactions from his grandsons. He was hit a moment later when small arms wrapped about his legs and he knelt down to let them hug him.

"Thank you, Daerada!" they chorused. "Will you teach us to shoot? Ada says you are one of the best archers ever!"

Celeborn glanced at Elrond after that comment, and saw eyes deep with emotion and paternal pride watching the elflings at his side. Elrond met Celeborn's glance, and though words were not spoken, Celeborn was touched that one he thought of as a son would speak highly of him to his grandsons.

"Yes, we will teach you to shoot," he answered kindly. Celeborn stood and was eyeing the surrounding area to determine the best spot for archery practice, when he saw Glorfindel already setting up targets and markers.

"Does he anticipate everything?" Celeborn asked Elrond.

Elrond laughed. "Just about. He brings all the young elves here for training. He stores a number of training items in the caves."

Celeborn had his own bow in hand, and an arrow nocked. He looked at his grandsons and Elrond for a moment, then called, "Glorfindel, do not move."

Glorfindel froze, knowing what Celeborn was going to do, and found himself looking at the dead center of the target he had been placing. The first arrow hit directly above his head, followed in quick succession by hits outlining his head. He heard the intake of breaths of the twins when the first one hit, and knew it was safe to move again when he heard the commotion behind him.

"Daerada, you are very good!" Elladan cried.

"Ada, did you see what Daerada did? Are you very mad at him?" Elrohir questioned.

Glorfindel retrieved the arrows from the target before rejoining the others. Elrohir flew at him, and he caught the elfling in his arms. Elrohir ran his hands along Glorfindel's head and face, his eyes still wide in fear and awe. "Glorfindel, were you scared?"

Glorfindel grinned. "No, elfling. Your grandfather is one of the best archers ever," he repeated the elfling's own words. He walked to where Celeborn stood, calmly dumping the arrows back into the quiver. Their eyes met and Glorfindel read many things in the Sindar elf's expression: trust, respect and challenge. He set Elrohir down, and helped him put on the straps that would hold the quiver in place on his back. "There, now you are ready."

Elrohir picked up the bow he had dropped when he had rushed to ensure his friend was uninjured. Elladan was ready as well, his eyesight enough to determine that Glorfindel was unharmed and his greater desire to someday shoot as well as his daerada prompting him to stand at attention.

Celeborn herded the elflings to the target, with one last glance at Glorfindel. He grinned when Glorfindel winked at him. He also caught the raised eyebrows of Elrond and felt a tiny glimmer of regret.

"You have to be an expert archer and more than 10000 years old to try that," Celeborn explained to the elflings. He grinned as Elrond rolled his eyes. He had enjoyed 'pinning' Glorfindel; even if it meant he might get the 'impressionable elflings' lecture from the elflings' father. He nearly laughed aloud. Better from Elrond than Celebrían.

Elrond and Glorfindel set up the camp while Celeborn worked with the elflings. They heard the twins cheering each other on when they hit the target and groans and giggles when they apparently shot astray. Elrond found a spot in the sun and lay down, closing his eyes and allowing his ears to enjoy the sounds of the glade. The roar of the water in the distance and the cacophony of the calls and squabbles of the birds mixed pleasantly with the voices of his sons. The voices of his elflings ceased; their absence mixed with the light footfalls of small elves warning him that he was about to be pounced upon. He tensed his muscles slightly in anticipation, but allowed them this victory.

"Ada!" The shout in his ear occurred at the same moment that two small bodies landed on him. He immediately pulled them close, and they quickly gave way to affection in lieu of conquering him.

"Ada, I hit the target three times!" Elrohir said proudly.

"And I hit it four times!" Elladan added.

"Daerada says we will be as good as him someday," Elrohir announced.

"But now we are hot! May we go to the stream, Ada?"

"There is a nice pool for swimming just beyond those trees," Glorfindel reminded Elrond.

At the nod from their father, the twins took off in the direction Glorfindel pointed, the adults not far behind them.

"This water is cold!" declared Elladan as he waded in barefoot.

Glorfindel jumped across a few rocks and, kneeling down, felt the water. "This spot is not so cold." He motioned the elflings over to the small pool. "This is shallow water, and it collects the warmth of the sun well."

The twins knelt down to feel the water for themselves, smiling at the warmth. Glorfindel helped them get their tunics off and they stripped the rest of the way, leaving their clothing on the rocks and wading into the warmer water. He tossed them a piece of soaproot. "Wash yourselves well," he admonished them.

Glorfindel waited until Elrond was near, towels and clean clothing in hand, before heading back across the rocks. He saw Celeborn perched on a rock above the deeper cold water, and without hesitation he launched himself at the unsuspecting elf.

They landed in the cold water, surfacing together and shaking the cold water and hair from their faces. Glorfindel's merry blue eyes met Celeborn's and they both grinned.

"I thought you might need to cool off," Glorfindel explained smugly.

Celeborn pushed the elf back under the water before swimming to the shore. He stripped off his sodden clothing, grabbed soaproot from his pack, and then dove back into the cold water. He swam underwater to where he saw Glorfindel, and then grabbed the cloth of Glorfindel's trousers and yanked, pulling them off the elf as well as pulling the elf under the water. Celeborn tossed the clothing on to the rocks, and when Glorfindel surfaced, sans tunic as well, he handed him some of the soaproot.

They bathed in silence, listening to the voices upstream as Elrond and the twins splashed in the warmer water of the shallow pool. Celeborn left the water first, drying off and dressing in fresh clothing. He hung up all the wet clothing in the lower tree branches, and then returned to the camp. Once there he found Glorfindel's pack and returned, tossing it on to a nearby rock, before returning to the perch he had been sitting on prior to being pushed in the water.

The sun was setting when Glorfindel finally got out of the water. He stood in the fading sunlight, enjoying the remnants of Arien's warmth. He opened his bag in search of a towel and dry clothing.

He stood in silence at what fell out of his pack.

Celeborn saw Glorfindel's consternation and noting that the elf was still dripping and naked, slid down from the rock and joined him. He burst into laughter and knelt down in front of the pack.

"Glorfindel, I never knew you had such…..interesting…taste in clothing," Celeborn laughed heartily as he pulled out she-elf lacy undergarments and a rather fetching gown of silver. "These do look a little small for you, although you could try them on and see." He glanced at the fuming elf. "No? Well, let us see what other lovely things you have packed." He pulled out a small vial of fragrance and unscrewed the lid. "Such a seductive scent… . .I have not noticed you wearing this before. Is it new?" he mocked. He drew out pink hair ribbons. "These will look quite enchanting with your golden hair."

Elrond had joined them, shooing the children back to the camp as soon as he saw the lacy undergarments being held up by Celeborn. He pulled a towel from his own pack and tossed it at the irate elf-lord. Glancing into the tree branches he saw the drying clothing. He dug into the pack himself, noting that all of the clothing was feminine.

He grinned. "Erestor?"

Glorfindel frowned, confused. "I packed all the bags myself. He was never near them - I made sure of it," he answered, speaking more to himself than Elrond. He turned his glare upon Celeborn, but the absolute glee in that one's face bespoke only of enjoying the situation, not having caused it.

Elrond dug around in his pack, finally pulling forth a tunic. He tossed it at Glorfindel. "Here - I have an extra tunic."

Celeborn howled with laughter as he beheld the elf wearing the tunic, a towel about his waist, and his boots. "My own clothing is wet because someone pushed me into the stream, so I have nothing extra to share with you, but I am sure you can wear your cloak until your clothing dries!"

Glorfindel stalked back to camp, ignoring the laughter that followed him. He was caught up in planning his own revenge while retracing every movement of the packs to determine when Erestor had bested him.

* * *

Dinner had been cooked and eaten, and the bedrolls laid out near the fire. Elladan and Elrohir had crawled in without question as the air grew chilly, and they lay watching the stars as they began to appear in the night sky.

"Look, El, there is Daeradar," Elrohir pointed into the sky as the star of Eärendil.

Elladan rolled to look at their other daerada. "We have both grandfathers with us tonight. Daerada, are you going to continue Ada's story?"

Celeborn looked up at the stars for a moment, and then at the twins. "Oh, you mean me." He smiled as they giggled. "Yes, I will continue your Ada's story." He settled himself more comfortably on the ground. "Círdan and Gil-Galad sailed into Sirion just after it fell…"

~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~

Círdan stood at the prow of his ship as they sailed into Havens of Sirion, watching as plumes of smoke rose from the shores. There were no sounds of battle. Ereinion jumped nimbly over piles of rope, coming to stand at his side.

"We are too late," said Ereinion.

Círdan shaded his eyes against the morning sun. "The attack must have been recent. Fires still burn. Look - ships are still docked. It looks as if they did not get any ships out."

"Which must mean they were surprised," Ereinion surmised. "Look at the eastern end - those ships have all burned. Those at the main port are from Balar."

As the ships pulled into their moorings, elves began flocking to the docks to greet them. Their faces were sad, the grief deeply etched, and the pain in their eyes visible. Círdan descended, his eyes seeking the shipyard master. The elf appeared; he was walking with a crutch and one arm bandaged against his side.

"Cairsan," Círdan greeted the elf. "What has befallen Sirion?"

The elf let forth a low keening wail and tears formed again at the horror. "Maedhros surprised us - we had no warning. There was no time to prepare, no time to defend ourselves. So many dead…most are dead, Círdan."

"When? What of Elwing? What of the Silmaril?" Círdan questioned.

"Two days ago they attacked. Elwing is gone. Witnesses from the shore say she cast herself from the cliff there." Cairsan pointed at the cliff just north of the harbor. "She was wearing the Silmaril."

Cirdan grimaced, his thoughts drifting to Eärendil. "Has her body been recovered?"

"No, Cirdan. Here the tale grows strange. 'Tis said she changed into a bird and flew away, out of reach of those who wished to harm her," Cairsan's voice faded as he finished.

Círdan and Ereinion exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of this news. "Eärendil has not returned?" Ereinion asked.

"No, we have not seen Lord Eärendil in many months," Cairsan answered. He turned his eyes to the weathered, bearded face before him. "Messengers were sent to you, but Maedhros struck early - before the message could have reached you."

"I am sorry, my friend," Círdan grasped the elf's good hand. "I must learn the state of the city - who is dead, who is wounded. Where is Eregdos?"

"Eregdos died defending Elwing," Cairsan answered softly. "Lord Celeborn lies gravely injured. Our forces were decimated. Few remain who can fight."

Círdan turned to Ereinion. "Send word to Balar that all the living of Sirion who so choose will be moved there. Make the necessary preparations for shelter, food and care. I will see what I might learn in the city." He turned again to Cairsan. "Where is Lord Celeborn?"

Cairsan turned and began the walk up the hill into the town. "All the injured are in the Great Hall. Lord Celeborn is in Eregdos' old office." With that he slowed and waved Círdan on ahead.

Círdan walked the short distance up from the shore to the Great Hall, taking in the scenes of carnage all about him. Memories of the destruction at the Havens of the Falas entered his thoughts - the fires, the dead in the streets, the lament of the living and the dread of knowing that once again a much smaller number of them would need to regroup and face an uncertain future. As he continued up the road to the Great Hall he watched as elves removed the dead. He saw many of his own people come from Balar to render aid. They greeted him with weary voices and grief-stricken eyes.

He entered the dim light of the Hall, the sound of a minstrel strumming a harp to soothe the injured and the dying. Healers moved quietly from pallet to pallet, giving aid where they could; merely sitting with those who would soon depart for Mandos' Halls, in the hopes of easing their passing. Círdan continued on, weaving through the pallets, occasionally slowing to grasp a hand or touch a head of one he knew. He reached the office of Eregdos and entered to find the Lady Galadriel tending to her husband.

She looked up at him as he entered, grief and pain visible in her eyes - but also a flash of fire and anger. Círdan knelt across from her, grasping one of Celeborn's hands in his own; his other hand touching the forehead as he smoothed back silver hair. He sensed the damage to the body, the weakened feä. Celeborn's eyes were closed and he was in deep sleep.

"How does he fare?" inquired Círdan softly.

Galadriel pulled back the light blanket covering her husband, allowing Círdan to see the wounds upon his torso. A long gash ran diagonally along the abdomen, the wound deep. Círdan could feel the stitches deep within the tissue that had been required to close the wound. He slowly moved his hands across the injured body, noting the break to the forearm and the penetrating wounds to the shoulder and thigh.

"He will recover," stated the Shipwright calmly. He laid his palm along Galadriel's cheek "And you, Lady, do you recover as well?"

Galadriel's eyes flashed fire. "I am uninjured."

"That is not what I asked," Círdan replied gently yet sternly.

Galadriel focused on Celeborn for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I am recovered. I recovered at Alqualondë and at Doriath; I am recovered here. My kin slay my kin for a precious jewel - a hallowed jewel - but one that not even the Valar would risk one life for. Yet even from this we shall recover."

She sat back, resting against the wall. "I know he will recover. For two days I doubted. For two days I have thought he should see Valinor without me, ere I too was slain."

"Sirion is destroyed and her people leaderless." Círdan continued after a moment. "Gil-Galad readies Balar to receive any of her people who wish to come. Will you aid me in sending word of this to the remnant of the city that survives?"

Galadriel rose with Círdan and faced him. "Aye, Círdan. Let us start with Celeborn and these other injured. Make the ship ready, and I shall have them prepared."

Círdan smiled and grasped her hand. A Galadriel giving orders was a useful Galadriel. "It shall be done."

* * *

"Lord Gil-Galad, there is an injured she-elf asking to speak with you," the young healer bowed before her king as she spoke. "She is quite restless, my Lord, and says her request is urgent."

Gil-Galad smiled at the healer. "Take me to her."

The healer threaded her way through the pallets of the recovering injured, all moved to Balar in the last few days from Sirion. Those who had been thought unlikely to recover had already passed to the Halls of Mandos, and now only those expected to live remained. She led Gil-Galad to a pallet in the corner where a she-elf sat propped against pillows. The injured elf took his hand in relief and bowed her head.

"My Lord, thank you for coming," she said gratefully. "I am Liriel, nurse to Elrond and Elros, the sons of Lady Elwing. Please, have you any word on the children? Did Maedhros harm them?"

Gil-Galad sat down beside her, a frown on his face. "Lady Liriel, in the confusion I have not heard of the fate of the children. Tell me what you know, that I might further what information you already have."

Liriel's eyes filled with tears. "Maedhros and Maglor were chasing Elwing. Eregdos fell defending her, but she gave both children to me and told me to the head for the shore, that she would lead them away from us. I heard Maedhros say she cast herself into the sea; then they were upon me. I had been shot, and I fell with the children into the reeds near the shore." She paused as the memory returned to her. "I begged them not to hurt the little ones, to take them to the shore where Elwing's people would care for them. But Maedhros said they were taking them. It is the last I saw of them. No one here knows their fate."

Gil-Galad comforted the she-elf, his thoughts racing. He and Círdan had assumed the children dead. He wondered for what purpose Maedhros would wish to keep them. "I will speak to Círdan and learn what we can. Take comfort if you can, and hope that they are well. If possible, we will find them or learn of their fate."

"Gil-Galad, Celeborn has awakened," the same healer took the young king in hand and led him to the room where Celeborn was being treated.

There he found Círdan and Galadriel sitting with Celeborn, who was asking his own questions and gaining as much news of the last few days as he could process.

"Have all come to Balar?" Celeborn asked.

"Yes, all are here and being settled," answered Círdan.

Círdan filled in all the gaps in Celeborn's memory since his own arrival at Sirion, then listened as Celeborn told him of the events leading up to that day.

"It was barely a fortnight from the sending of the last letter that Maedhros attacked. He could not have sent the missive from Himring, regardless of what was written on the parchment. They came in quietly at night and rushed Sirion from both sides the next day. Even had we been prepared, we could not have bested them. We were sorely outnumbered and we had our families to protect as well." Celeborn stopped and surveyed the faces watching him. "What is the fate of Elwing and the Silmaril? Did Maedhros recover the jewel?"

"No, he did not," Galadriel answered. "Elwing cast herself and the Silmaril into the waters off the high cliff. Those who witnessed the act claimed she was made into the likeness of a bird and flew off over the sea, the Silmaril at her breast."

"Ulmo could well do such a thing," added Círdan evenly. "He has pleaded on our behalf to Manwë and perhaps has a plan for Elwing and the jewel."

"The nurse to Lady Elwing's children is in the ward," added Gil-Galad. "She has told me the children were taken by Maedhros and Maglor."

"Then we must go after them." Celeborn tried to rise, but Círdan easily pushed him back down.

"Maedhros does nothing without a purpose," said Círdan thoughtfully. "We will send searchers to inquire after them, but we must consider for what purpose the sons of Fëanor keep the sons of Eärendil. It is not out of pity."

"Ereinion, will you arrange for searchers to follow the trail left by Maedhros?" Círdan asked. "They may have returned to Himring."

"Aye, Círdan," answered the young High King of the Noldor, already on his feet and heading out the door.

Círdan watched the young elf go with an amused paternal glance. "He will be a great king one day."

* * *

"Círdan, the Alphiel docked a month ago with strange tidings," said Gil-Galad as he stood in the door to the shipwright's office. "They reported a lookout in the tall beech on the point of Cape Balar. I sent scouts to the area, and they have reported there is an encampment inland." He paused. "One slipped close enough to see the banner of Maedhros of the house of Finwë."

Círdan took in the news with careful consideration, but could not help asking after the stealthy elf who garnered this information. "The scout is one of the green elves?"

Gil-Galad smiled. "None other could come so close without detection."

"Perhaps it is time we paid a visit to Maedhros," decided Círdan.

"I would be glad to do so," a quiet but powerful voice spoke from over Ereinion's shoulder. Celeborn stepped into Cirdan's office.

Círdan and Gil-Galad exchanged glances. "As kin, it is your right," Círdan answered. "I suggest you take the green elf. He blends into the trees and may be able to see further while you converse with the kin-slayers." The contempt in Círdan's voice at his reference to the sons of Fëanor was unmistakable.

"I shall leave on the morrow," Celeborn replied.

~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~

"And that is how I came to be at the camp where your Ada and Uncle Elros were being kept," finished Celeborn. He smiled at the sleepy elflings cradled in each arm. They had moved to hug him when he was injured in the story, and he was touched by their sincerity and tender innocence.

They were drifting into elven dreams as Elrond took one elfling and tucked him into his bedroll and Celeborn tucked the other twin in close by. It was Glorfindel who placed their special nighttime companions in their arms, and covered them with blankets.

"I will take first watch," Celeborn said as he resumed his seat on the rock, nodding that he would wake Glorfindel at the appropriate time.

Elrond settled himself in next to his sons, and Glorfindel, now in dry clothing, slid into his bedroll. He dug into the blankets and pulled out that which his foot had just kicked. He grimaced at the furry pink slippers as he muttered "How does one get fur that color?" while Elrond and Celeborn suppressed their chuckles. Glorfindel glared at them, launching the furry projectiles at each of their heads while silently cursing Erestor.

* * *

"Erestor, I am sure that the smell of moldy corn flour does wear off in time," Celebrían argued with her husband's advisor as he moved to sit in the window. She found herself grimacing at the smell, nonetheless.

"He was the only one who knew I planned on going through that cellar and assessing what damage was done by the spring rains that seeped in," Erestor ranted. "That he did this and left is the only surprise. Of course, I may still smell by tomorrow night when they return and he can enjoy himself then."

"Naneth says a little vinegar in the bath water will lessen the odor," Celebrían said helpfully.

Erestor snorted. "I am retiring for the evening. Please excuse me, Lady Celebrían." With that, the irate elf stalked off to bed.

Celebrían giggled.

* * * * *

Chapter 11: Rescuing elflings

* * * * *

Elrond awakened at dawn, Elladan curled against him and Elrohir spooned with his twin. The morning air was cool, and Elrond spread his own blanket over his sons as he rose. On the other side of the dying fire, Celeborn still wandered in elven dreams. Glorfindel sat atop the fallen tree that bordered their small camp, his face turned to the golden sun as it broke the horizon.

"You did not wake me for my watch," Elrond chastised the smiling elf.

"You were occupied keeping elflings warm," Glorfindel replied, a twinkle in his eye. "Besides, Celeborn star-watched far longer than he needed to."

Elrond smiled as he walked to the stream for his morning ablutions, laughing inwardly at the two elves. Far be it from Glorfindel to allow Celeborn to take a longer watch than he! That they might have planned the watches to allow him to sleep through the night did not occur to him.

When he returned to camp he found Glorfindel building up the fire and Celeborn preparing breakfast. The horses and ponies had grazed and spent the night in the meadow, but now Elladan's pony, Thinde, sauntered towards the camp. The three elves watched in amusement as the pony ambled his way around the fallen log and to the sleeping elflings. Lowering his head into the nest of the small elves, the pony whinnied and snuffled his nose into their blankets and bellies.

The twins woke with a start, shouts and squeals accompanying their quick movements to get away from their attacker. Elladan finally caught the pony's nose between his hands.

"Thinde! That was not nice!" he scolded.

Elrohir was somewhat more direct. "You are a bad pony!" he shook his finger at the pony, then turned to his brother. "Your pony is not well behaved!"

Thinde snorted and snuffled Elladan again, earning his complete forgiveness as evidenced by the arms that wrapped around his neck and hugged him.

"Oh, he just wants to play," Elladan explained with a grin.

Elrohir stood, shaking off the blankets, and turning to the three laughing adults. He did his best 'annoyed' look, perfected from mimicking Erestor, and then turned his back on them and stalked off to the stream. Mithren had followed Thinde from the field and now shadowed her elfling's footsteps. Elrohir swung around to scold his pony, but one look into the sad brown eyes changed his mind.

"Oh, Mithren. At least you do not wake me by slobbering all over me." Elrohir reached up to pet the pony's nose and was met instead by a slobbering nose lowering and butting against his belly. The pony snuffled against him, pushing him back slightly. "Pony!" Elrohir scolded as Mithren stomped his foot and tossed his head. He gave in with a sigh and hugged the pony, petting his nose and combing the shaggy mane with his fingers.

When the ponies were satisfied with the attention received, they trotted back to the horses and resumed their important morning routine of grazing and rolling on their backs in the wet morning grass. Elladan joined his brother as they watched the ponies frolic and together they walked to the stream to wash their faces and hands.

"Breakfast smells good!" Elladan called as he raced back to the fire. He landed soundlessly next to this father and with a smile of thanks accepted his plate of food.

Elrohir walked back slowly, calling back to the birds as they sang and twittered amongst themselves. He approached the fire and smells with an appreciative sniff of the air, then leaned against his father for a quick hug before taking a plate from Glorfindel.

"Elrohir, do you still like your pony this morning?" Celeborn asked mischievously.

"Daerada, he is incorrigible," Elrohir answered with an exasperated shake of his head.

Elrond choked, Glorfindel howled and Celeborn grinned, as they all refrained from making any comparisons to the elfling's observation.

* * *

"Glorfindel, would you help set up more targets?" Celeborn called.

Glorfindel stopped strumming on his small harp and glanced up at the silver haired elf. "No," he answered with a grin, the sounds of music filling the meadow again as his long fingers resumed their dance over the instrument's strings.

A feral grin crossed Celeborn's face. "Are you afraid?"

Glorfindel smiled, refusing to be baited. "No."

"Daerada, watch!" Celeborn turned to watch Elrohir loose an arrow and hit the outer edge of the target. He watched as the small elf raised the bow in the air in triumph.

"Good hit, Elrohir!" Celeborn congratulated him. He turned again to Glorfindel, but the elf shook his head. He started to say more, but another call from his grandson caught his attention.

The twins were tired and rubbing sore arms after their archery lesson. They drank all the water in their water skins, and plopped down in the grass by Glorfindel. They lay quiet for some time, watching the butterflies and bumblebees and listening to the murmur of the wind in the trees.

"Glorfindel, can the wood elves really talk to the trees?" Elrohir asked.

"They can, but not with words such as you and I use to speak," Glorfindel answered.

"What do they say?"

"They warn of danger and tell of good tidings," replied Glorfindel. "When the wood-elves walk in the trees, the trees move their branches to help give them the best passage."

There was silence again as the elflings pondered this information. Glorfindel resumed softly playing the harp.

"Glorfindel, where is Ada?"

"He followed the stream down a short ways in search of a healing herb that he was hoping to find," explained Glorfindel.

"Glorfindel, where were you when Círdan and Gil-Galad and Daerada were searching for Ada and Uncle Elros?" Elladan asked.

Glorfindel stopped playing momentarily as his mind drifted. The memories of that time remained unclear, as if he were seeing through a cloudy glass or listening through heavy curtains that muffled sound.

"I was in the Halls of Mandos," he finally answered.

He felt small fingers grasping at his leggings, and looking down he saw Elrohir had scooted closer, pillowing his head on Glorfindel's thigh.

"Did you meet Manwë?" Elrohir questioned.

"Yes, and Námo and Varda and Estë, and other Vala and Maia too."

"Why did Manwë send you back to Middle-Earth, Glorfindel?" Elrohir asked.

Glorfindel smiled down at the curious faces watching him. Intent on the children, he had not noticed that Celeborn sat nearby. The Sindar's face was impassive. Glorfindel returned his attention to the children and the harp.

"I had some important unfinished work left to do," Glorfindel replied gently. "Are you ready for your sword lessons?" he blithely changed the subject.

The lack of movement at his legs indicated not. Glorfindel turned to Celeborn. "Lazy elflings. Shall we show them a proper match?"

The feral gleam returned to Celeborn's eye at the suggestion, his enthusiasm matched only by the cheers from his grandsons.

The two elf-lords stretched and prepared before facing each other in the open field. Each had his sword drawn, raised in front of his face. At Celeborn's nod they began with a mighty clash of steel.

The twins watched in awe as the two elf-lords sparred. The sun reflected off their blades as glints of white light, and their gold and silver heads shone under Arien's rays. They danced through the meadow, their light feet and agility allowing for spectacular spins and jumps. The twins both caught their breath when their grandfather leapt into a tree, then somersaulted out, landing behind Glorfindel, who still managed to spin and block the thrust. Glorfindel then began an aggressive offensive attack, causing Celeborn to focus solely on his defense. He parried blow after blow, the sweat beginning to break out upon his brow, as Glorfindel forced him further into the meadow.

"When are they going to stop?" Elrohir asked Elladan.

Elladan shrugged. "When one of them wins."

"We might be here all day!" exclaimed Elrohir.

Elladan frowned. "Then we might never get our turn."

"How do we make them stop?" Elrohir wondered. "Ada told us never to interrupt warriors when they are fighting because they can get hurt if they are distracted."

The elflings fell silent as they pondered the problem. Glorfindel and Celeborn continued to fight, their chests rising more noticeably with each breath and sweat becoming obvious on them both. A voice spoke behind them.

"How long have they been sparring?"

"Ada!" Elladan and Elrohir cried together. The jumped to their feet and threw their arms about his legs.

"They have been….."Elladan began

"….fighting for a long time," Elrohir continued, "and we don't know how …."

"…to make them stop!" Elladan finished.

Elrond left his sons where they had been watching and moved closer to the two combatants. He watched them battle, and it became quickly obvious that they did not intend to stop until one of them dropped. To Elrond's trained eye, Glorfindel was winning. He grimaced, for he did not wish to be around Celeborn should that happen. He drew in a deep breath and in his most commanding voice called, "DARO!"

The swords clanged a last time as they met in mid-air. The two elves stood frozen, each staring at the other, their swords remaining high and between them. Long moments passed until finally Elrond walked between them, and gripping each elf by the sword arm he lowered their blades.

Glorfindel's blue eyes danced merrily, while Celeborn's gleamed with passion.

"Daerada! Glorfindel! That was incredible!" The voices of the twins broke the silence and the tension, and soon the elflings were fingering the heavy swords, asking questions and begging to be taught the moves they had seen.

Elrond wisely decided it was time for the elflings to eat and the elf-lords to cool off. "Sword lessons after lunch. Elladan, Elrohir, please go fill all the water skins." He waited until the children had run to the stream before turning back to Glorfindel and Celeborn. To his surprise, they were walking back to the campsite together, shoulder to shoulder, and he was sure he heard laughter. His brow furrowed in confusion as he watched them. He finally shrugged and followed them.

* * *

The afternoon sun was quite warm and the campsite was quiet as the elves lay in the dappled shade of the trees. Glorfindel still absently strummed his harp, the notes blending in seamlessly with the buzz of insects and the chattering of the birds. Celeborn appeared to doze, while Elrond sorted through the herbs he had found, packaging them in separate small containers and labeling them appropriately.

The elflings lay on their backs, watching the fluffy clouds drift across the otherwise clear, blue sky.

"That one is a house."

"No, that is the barn, silly."

"There is a horse. I think it is your pony."

"Why is it not your pony?"

"My pony has more gray than that."

Elrond listened to their low chatter, whispers really, sometimes not even differentiating which of his sons was speaking. They tended to complete each other's sentences so often that even he and Celebrían lost track of which one was speaking at times.

"Daerada, will you continue your story?" Elladan's voice rose above the whisper he had been using to communicate with his twin.

Celeborn's eyes focused and Elrond knew that that the elf had indeed been sleeping. He smiled as he ducked his head. He knew that Celeborn would never admit that he was tired after his match with Glorfindel. Glorfindel had incredible stamina, something he had said developed after his time in Mandos' Halls. Even now he did not appear particularly tired.

Celeborn rose and moved to recline between the elflings, resting against their packs, which he piled behind him. The twins cuddled up on either side of him, using his legs for pillows as they situated themselves so they could see his face.

"Now where was I?" he mused.

"You were at the camp of Maedhros to rescue Ada!" Elrohir reminded him.

"So I was," Celeborn answered. "I did take the green elf, as Círdan suggested……"

~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~

"Lord Celeborn," the green elf whispered into his ear. "Children reside in this camp."

Celeborn nearly started in surprise. Calendîn truly was the most stealthy elf he had ever met. He had neither seen nor heard the elf approach him. "Have you seen them?" he whispered back.

"No, my Lord," Calendîn answered. When Celeborn arched an eyebrow at him in the brief silence that followed, he continued. "I have heard the sound of young voices. I also obtained this." A small, carved animal appeared in Calendîn's hand.

Celeborn took the wooden horse, turning it over and inspecting the workmanship. It was rough work at best, carved by a dagger or small knife. Whoever had crafted the toy had done so without proper tools. He handed it back to Calendîn and watched as the elf disappeared into the trees. He knew the green elf would return when he had more news to report.

Celeborn returned to the small contingent of elves he had led to the encampment of Maedhros and Maglor. Narthan, a young Noldor elf who had survived the fall of Gondolin and been a friend to Eärendil, was preparing himself to deliver a message to the sons of Fëanor. He was simply dressed and unarmed, carrying only a small flag of the house of his King, Gil-Galad. He approached Celeborn with a slight bow.

"Lord Celeborn, with your leave. I shall return as soon as I may," Narthan stated.

Celeborn nodded for the young elf to go and seated himself again with the scouts who had mapped the camp with the limited information provided thus far by the green elf.
He had requested a meeting with Maedhros, clearly stating that he was seeking the sons of Eärendil. That Maedhros and Maglor had kept the children alive for the many months since Sirion's fall seemed to bode well that they would not slay them now. He had but to wait for Narthan's return to know what answer Maedhros would give.

* * *

"What is your intent?" Maglor questioned.

Maedhros paced the length of his tent. "The sons of Eärendil may still be of value to us. I shall not release them."

"Will Celeborn attack if you refuse?" asked Maglor.

"His blood and the blood of his people will be on his hands, should he attempt such folly," Maedhros answered coldly. "They may produce the Silmaril; for this I will barter the children of their Lord."

"And if they do not have the Silmaril to barter?"

"Then the children shall await one who does," Maedhros answered without remorse.

"Will you meet with Celeborn?"

"Yes. On the morrow, on the cape. Keep the children within the security of the camp, muindor. The Sindar's spies are sure to be watching," Maedhros said grimly.

* * *

Celeborn arrived with Narthan to find Maedhros present with one guard, as agreed. Each knew that the other had warriors at the ready; Sindarin archers sat high in the trees with arrows nocked in their bows, while those loyal to the sons of Fëanor remained just out of sight with their swords ready.

"Celeborn," Maedhros acknowledged the Sindar elf.

"Maedhros," Celeborn's face was expressionless.

"Do you come bearing the Silmaril?" Maedhros struck to the heart of the matter.

Celeborn's eyes narrowed. "You know better than I the fate of the Silmaril."

"It is the only token of value to this parley," Maedhros informed the elf imperiously.

"The Silmaril is not in our keep. I am here, as stated in the message, to obtain the safe return of the sons of Eärendil," Celeborn's steady voice was belied by the steely glint in his eye.

"The only token acceptable in barter for the sons of Eärendil is the Silmaril that their parents withheld from us," Maedhros' tone remained cold and hard.

"Then you admit you have the sons of Eärendil," Celeborn pushed.

"I have no need to admit or deny any charge from you," Maedhros replied. "Their fate rests on the return of what is rightfully ours."

"The Silmaril is not ours to return," Celeborn took a step towards Maedhros, his fist clenched at his side. "You witnessed Elwing's choice. The Silmaril resides in the sea or beyond the reach of us all." The two elves stood now within inches of each other. " I cannot make appear what is no longer present."

"Then you forfeit their lives," replied Maedhros cruelly.

Celeborn raised his arm, only to have it caught in the strong grip of Maedhros' left hand. He considered pressing the advantage he had over the one-armed elf, but restraint prevailed and he lowered his arm.

"Return to me when you have what I seek," Maedhros spat as he thrust Celeborn's arm the rest of the way down, releasing it. He turned on his heel and strode away from the cape towards the encampment.

Celeborn breathed in and out several times, deep cleansing breaths as he unclenched his fists and stretched out his fingers. He watched with malice until Maedhros had stridden out of sight.

"Come, Narthan," Celeborn ordered. "We are not finished here yet." The two elves were quickly surrounded by archers dropping from the trees, and they returned to their own camp.

* * *

"Elros!" Hathel called as the small child dodged behind a tree. "Come and sit."

Elros popped his head out from around the tree, a grin appearing as he watched Hathel walk towards him. His eyes lit up with glee and he turned to flee again, only to run smack into muscular legs. He stumbled, but quickly caught himself. The laugh on his lips disappeared as he looked up and realized who stood before him. The child turned to run towards Hathel but was tripped by the boot that rose to impede him. A look of terror crossed his face when a handless arm slid beneath his belly as he sprawled in the dirt and scooped him off the ground. A sharp slap to his bottom brought tears to his eyes, but he did not cry out.

"Do as you are told, peredhel, or I will not stop at one next time," Maedhros hissed into the elfling's ear. He released the child, dropping him the last foot to the ground and watched as the child scrambled to his feet and flung himself at Hathel, who caught him up.

Elros grabbed Hathel's tunic, winding his little fists into the fabric, as he buried his face into the elf's neck and hair. Silent sobs shook his small frame. Hathel turned from Maedhros without a word and took the child back to Maglor.

Maglor sat in front of the tent, the evening meal prepared and waiting only for small elves to be rounded up. Hathel loosed Elros' hands from his tunic and gently dumped the child into Maglor's lap, and then he turned to find the other wayward elfling before Maedhros did.

He did not have to go far. Elrond had planted himself in the path between where his brother was being consoled by Maglor, and Maedhros. His arms were crossed over his chest and he glared at Maedhros in defiance.

"Go sit and eat," Maedhros ordered.

Elrond did not move.

Maedhros scowled and moved forward menacingly. Elrond gave a cry of anger and flung himself at the legs of the elf who had hurt his brother. His small fists beat at hard thighs and Maedhros might have found the incident amusing if not for the anger he still held after meeting with Celeborn. He reached down and grabbed the elfling by the hair and back of the tunic with one hand, lifting him to eye level.

Elrond's shriek of pain at having his hair harshly pulled caught the attention of every nearby elf. Maglor had already thrust Elros back into Hathel's capable hands, and was nearly to his brother when Maedhros lifted Elrond from the ground. He was not in time to stop Maedhros from dropping the screaming elfling over his arm and delivering three solid hits to the child. The first caught the child along the upper legs and buttocks; the second landed on his upper back as he slid down the arm he was flung over; and the third was delivered to the ears and head. Maglor caught the child before he hit the ground.

"Maedhros, stop!" Maglor hissed loudly as he turned slightly to put his own body between his brother and Elrond and pulled the screaming child close to his chest. Maedhros' booted foot caught him in the back of the leg, but he managed to retain his balance and lightly stepped out of his brother's reach.

Maglor watched Maedhros react as if fog was lifted from his eyes and he realized he was raising his hand to strike his own brother. Maglor had lifted one arm defensively as his brother charged at him, disbelief in his face, while he used his body and other arm to protect the child. Maedhros quickly stepped back, his hand falling to his side and an expression of disbelief crossing his own face, a match to his younger brother's.

Maglor glared at him and turned away, lowering himself to the ground and pulling the screaming child from his body that he might inspect the injuries inflicted on him. Elrond held one hand to his head, covering his ear, which was bright red. A few drops of blood seeped from his scalp where his hair had been nearly torn from his head. Pulling up the child's tunic he saw bruises already appearing on his upper back and across his buttocks. Maglor began to croon to the child, again releasing some of his own healing power through the threads of the song he created and wove into the child's own song. He continued to feel the wounds, but he sensed no broken bones or serious injuries. Elrond continued to cry for some time, Malgor holding and singing to him until he calmed.

Maglor continued to sit, holding the little elf against his chest until he cried himself into an exhausted sleep. He rose and returned to his tent, where Hathel held a sleeping Elros, his tearstained face indicating he also had cried himself to sleep.

"Is he injured?" Hathel asked warily.

"Bruised and scared, but no serious damage," Maglor replied as he laid a hand on Elros' back, lending again his own healing energy to the traumatized elfling. He laid Elrond in his bed, then taking Elros from Hathel, tucked him in next to his twin. The two immediately curled about each other, but this time it was Elros who took the supportive position, pulling Elrond in against his chest and patting him on the arm. "Stay with them; I do not want them to wake alone. I am going to speak to Maedhros."

"I am here," Maedhros answered from the tent's opening.

Maglor nearly pushed his brother outside, and then herded him away from the tent. He led him into the trees, away from listening ears.

"Touch them again…." Maglor began angrily, but he was interrupted.

"I am sorry, muindor," Maedhros apologized, grief evident in his voice. "Is Elrond badly hurt?"

"Nay," Maglor sighed, feeling his anger depart. "He is bruised and scared, but he will heal." He paused and looked his brother in the eyes. He could see the hurt and grief over the acts he had just committed. "How could you do that, Maedhros? They are not the enemy. How could you strike children?"

Maedhros could no longer meet his brother's eyes, and he turned away. "I met with Celeborn."

"What did he say?"

"He wants the children returned to him. I told him the only way such a trade would occur is if they returned to us the Silmaril," Maedhros answered. "They claim not to have it; that it resides with Elwing in the sea or beyond the reach of Middle-Earth."

"We saw her fly, muindor," Maglor reminded him.

"And we wait for her return," Maedhros' voice grew harsh again. "Until then we hold the only things of value that she might exchange for the Silmaril."

"Or what, Maedhros? For how long do we keep them? What if she does not return?" Maglor asked angrily.

Maedhros did not answer immediately, and Maglor grasped his arm. "What did you tell Celeborn?"

"That their lives are then forfeit," Maedhros answered hoarsely.

A terrible fury rose in Maglor's eyes and he backed his brother into a tree, one hand still holding his arm, the arm pressing against Maedhros' chest. "You will not harm them again, Maedhros." Maglor commanded, incensed. "Their blood will not be on our hands."

Maedhros' eyes flashed briefly, but he quickly relaxed and nodded. Never before had his brother been so angry with him or physically restrained him in such a manner. Maglor released his hold and without another word turned and walked away.

Maedhros slid down the tree, sitting at its base. He listened as Maglor's voice rose in song, the volume faint but the melody unmistakable. It was strains of the Noldolantë mixed again with verses of strength and healing, as Maglor again strengthened small souls.

* * *

Calendîn listened carefully to the conversation, then moved silently through the beech trees until the song of the minstrel faded from his hearing.

~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~

Celeborn finished as tears streamed down the faces of both of his grandsons. He had not meant to make them cry, but the story was what it was. He could not change that because their Ada was the elfling in the tale. He glanced up to meet Elrond's eyes, and noted the strange expression on his face.

"I did not know you knew what happened," Elrond said softly, his eyes fixed on Celeborn even as his sons wrapped their arms around him.

Celeborn smiled. "Green elves."

"Calendîn never told me," Elrond answered. He hugged his sons and stroked their backs and hair, and was surprised to feel small hands patting his back and stroking his hair. He looked down at the dark heads and realized they meant to comfort him.

"Thank you, Elladan and Elrohir," he murmured softly. "That was the only time Maedhros did that," he reassured them. He met Celeborn's eyes again, and Celeborn nodded.

"Now, shall we swim first or have sword lessons first?" Elrond asked them.

"Swim first!" Elladan cried. He jumped to his feet, his brother close on his heels, and they ran for the pool.

Celeborn rose as well and reached a hand down to Elrond. Elrond took the proffered help, letting Celeborn pull him to his feet and surprisingly, into an embrace. Celeborn held him close for a moment, seemingly remembering a small elfling, and then they turned and followed the twins to the pool.

Glorfindel had been lightly strumming the harp throughout the story. He tucked it carefully into his pack and then followed Elrond and Celeborn. A pleased smile spread across his face as he noted that Celeborn kept a fatherly arm across Elrond's shoulders.

* * *

"Ada, can we go to the waterfall?" Elladan called.

"Aye, Elladan, but wait for us," Elrond called back.

The adults had reached the waterfall and the pool at its base as the elflings began their climb up the rocks to where the stream poured through hollowed channels, cascading to the pool below. The rocks at the base and sides had been worn smooth over the years, and provided an easy climb to the top.

Elladan and Elrohir had stripped off their tunics, but left on their leggings and soft shoes, just in case they decided they would attempt to slide down the smoothed rock on a small stream of water to the side of the main waterfall.

"Ada, the water is really cold up here!" Elrohir called down. "There are some pretty stones. Look at this blue one!"

Elrond nodded and watched as the two picked their way across the rocks, stopping every so often to pick up another stone that caught their fancy.

"Ada, there is a hole in the rocks!" Elladan yelled.

Glorfindel started at this; he knew the rocks and the waterfall, indeed this whole area, as well as he knew the familiar halls of Imladris. He was on his feet and walking to the rocks even as Elrond called to Elladan to stay away from the spot.

"Ada, the rocks are all loose here!" Elrohir called, panic in his voice.

Glorfindel, Celeborn and Elrond were all racing for the waterfall and climbing the rocks when the elflings disappeared from sight with screams of fright.

Glorfindel reached the area first and, to his amazement, found the rocks had broken loose and water poured into the darkness below. He saw fingers hanging on to the edge of the rock and moved carefully so as to not dislodge any loose stones into the hole. He laid out flat on his stomach and felt strong hands gripping his feet. He inched forward until he could finally see the small hand. Just as he reached for it, the rock gave loose and they heard Elrohir scream as he plunged into the darkness of the hole.

"Elrohir!" Elrond screamed. He crawled to the edge of the hole and began to lower himself in by the arms, loose stones giving way as he did so. "Elladan!" he yelled. He heard no clear answer, but he did hear something. "I can hear them!"

He began to lower himself into the hole, Glorfindel holding his legs as he delved further in. There were roots of the tall trees hanging down, and he grabbed one. He felt it hold and called, "Let go."

"No, Elrond!" Glorfindel peered over the side. "I have rope. Let me get it and then we will go down and get them.

"Ada!" a small cry sounded from the depths of the hole. "Ada, help me!"

Elrond's pace quickened as he called to his sons. He continued to lower himself, and Glorfindel edged closer, feeling Celeborn grab his feet.

"Can you see them?" Celeborn shouted.

"No," Elrond called back. "This root will hold. Let me go!" He twisted and kicked at Glorfindel until Glorfindel felt him begin to slip through his fingers. He grabbed one last time at the boot, and felt it release from the one wearing it. Celeborn pulled him back with the boot in hand. They both stared at it in shock.

"Elrond!" Glorfindel shouted. He could not see anything in the blackness and there was no answer to his call. His mind raced as he recalled the layout of the caves in the cliffs around them. Jumping to his feet, he leapt nimbly down the rocks with Celeborn close behind.

Glorfindel raced to the cave where he kept supplies, quickly finding blankets, torches, rope and a pack with first aid supplies. The nearest cave to the waterfall was beyond it to the west, and into the north wall of the rocks behind it. Glorfindel shoved some of the equipment into Celeborn's arms and they raced back past the waterfall.

"There is a pool in the cave. Its source has long been thought to be a spring, but perhaps the stream has really fed it from an underground passage," Glorfindel quickly explained as they ran. "The passage is low - if the hole they fell into is connected to this pool, we will have to swim underwater to get them out."

They entered the darkness of the cave, Glorfindel stopping and lighting a torch for Celeborn and then one for himself. They both caught their breath at what they saw in the sudden light: piles of rock and dirt that had caved in from above.

"The roar of the water has never been heard so loudly in here before," Glorfindel said as he quickly inspected the edges of the cave in. He felt the loose dirt and rock of the wall. "This could all cave in."

The two elf lords exchanged glances. "Dig or go back up with rope and see if we can pull them out?" Glorfindel finally asked.

Celeborn shook his head. "Dig. That edge will never hold us pulling them up and we have no time to stabilize it."

Glorfindel nodded and they both lodged their torches into cracks in the cave wall, and began the arduous job of digging and moving out rock. They worked frantically, rolling the larger rocks out of the way and using their hands to pull the smaller ones to the side.

"There is the pool," Glorfindel said as he felt the water lapping at his fingers.

Celeborn reached over the water and felt the cave wall on the other side

"How deep is it here?"

"I do not know," Glorfindel admitted. "We have never explored the pool."

Celeborn lowered himself into the water and found he could not touch the bottom with his head above water. He felt under the cave wall edge, but felt rock the whole length of his arm. He looked solemnly at Glorfindel. "I will see how far I can make it."

Glorfindel nodded as he quickly wound rope around Celeborn's chest and knotted it. He attached the other end to a large rock. "When you make it to air again, tug on the rope and I will follow. If you cannot make it to air, tug twice and I will help pull you back as swiftly as I can."

Celeborn nodded, then took several deep breaths, holding the last one as he plunged under the water. Glorfindel fed the rope in for what seemed an eternity, counting the seconds. The adults could hold their breath for extended periods of time; the elflings could not. Just when he had determined that Celeborn would have to be pulled back, he felt a single strong tug on the line. Celeborn had made it to air.

Glorfindel slipped into the water and drawing in several deep breaths, held his breath and plunged below the surface. He followed the rope with one hand and felt Celeborn keeping it taut. Suddenly he felt a hand grip his and pull him up sharply into the air.

He drew in a deep breath as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was light filtering in from somewhere, and he could see the large open space above his head. He finally focused on Celeborn, who had one hand resting on a small outcropping of rock while he held Glorfindel with the other.

"This is deeper than I thought," Glorfindel began to tread water on his own now that he had air in his lungs again. "Colder, too. Are they here?"

Celeborn released him and called, "Elrond!" He turned to Glorfindel. "No answer yet - I have tried several times. How much more rope is there?"

"Another few lengths is all - it will take us only a short ways further," Glorfindel answered.

Celeborn took out his knife and pinned the rope into the softer dirt and shale above the water line. The two began to swim in the freezing water, following the light as it grew brighter. They seemed to be following an arc of sorts and as they rounded a passage that forced them down in water up to their noses, they entered another large chamber with a dripping hole at the top.

"Elrond!" Celeborn called again.

"Here," Elrond answered weakly from the side of the cave. Both swam to the sound, to see Elrond treading water with all his strength while holding as much of his sons out of the water as possible. They were perched one on each shoulder, blue with cold, and nearly unconscious.

"Be careful of Elladan's right arm - it is broken," Elrond instructed as Celeborn pulled the stiff elfling from him. "Elrohir hit his head and I think his ankle is broken," he said weakly to Glorfindel.

"Elrond!" Celeborn reached with one arm to shake him. He had watched as Elrond had begun to slip into the water now that he knew his sons were safe. Elrond kicked once and opened his eyes. Glorfindel took Elladan as Celeborn pulled Elrond to him.

Glorfindel turned onto his back, pulling the elflings on top of him, their heads in the crook of his elbows and supported above water, and he began to kick as powerfully as he could back to the previous chamber. He nearly scraped the elflings foreheads as he kicked through the chamber, but finally made it through. He continued kicking through to where the rope hung, hearing Celeborn behind him, but knowing even if he did not he would have to go on alone.

The twins were silent and cold, but they still breathed and he could feel the weak beats of their hearts. He reached the rope and waited for Celeborn. "I will take Elladan first and then come back." Celeborn nodded, and pulled Elrohir into his left arm, resting his elbow on the sharp ledge that was his only support in the deep water as he held up Elrond with his other arm.

Glorfindel took in as much air as he could; then he pulled Elladan close against him, holding him with his arm and using his hand to cover Elladan's mouth and nose. He grasped the rope with the other hand and kicked as hard as he could. Twice he blew breath into Elladan and finally they surfaced in the cave. He pulled Elladan out and covered him with a blanket, then plunged back into the water and swam back to Celeborn. He glanced at the silver haired elf and noticed he was shaking. Glorfindel had the advantage of not having stopped moving since he entered the water.

"Will you make it?" Glorfindel asked. Celeborn nodded and thrust Elrond and Elrohir into Glorfindel's arms. He kicked and moved his arms vigorously for a few moments, then taking Elrohir he drew in a deep breath and, covering the elfling's mouth and nose with his hand, he swam into the passage.

Glorfindel waited until Celeborn had a good head start and then he shook Elrond.

"Elrond!" He slapped the elf lightly across the cheeks to rouse him. He smiled when Elrond opened his eyes finally. "The twins are through. It is your turn. Take a deep breath when I tell you and then hold it. I will give you air if you need it - just pull on my sleeve." Glorfindel took hold of the rope. "Ready? Now!" He saw Elrond take in a small breath, and he clamped his hand over the elf's mouth and nose and dove under the water. He was midway through when he felt Elrond go limp. He bumped into another body as he reached the end. He felt arms pulling Elrond up, and then he surfaced.

Elrohir lay at the side of the pool, and Celeborn hung over the edge. Once Celeborn had Elrond in hand and was assured he was again breathing, Glorfindel climbed from the pool. He lifted Elrohir and laid him next to his brother, covering him with the same blanket. He then dragged Elrond from the pool, and finally helped Celeborn from the water.

"Silver hair and blue lips make for an interesting combination," Glorfindel noted.

"Aye, and I have never seen an elf with lips to match his eyes, either," Celeborn retorted.

"Let us get them into the warm sun," Glorfindel attempted to pick Elrond up, but could not do it. Celeborn joined him and together they dragged Elrond out into the sunlight, then covered him with a blanket. They each picked up an elfling and laid them on either side of their father, then collapsed together in the bright afternoon sun.

They lay there for some minutes, shivering. Glorfindel finally rose and stumbled to the cave to bring out the torches, first aid pack and the rest of the blankets. He tossed the blankets to Celeborn and began to strip. "Get out of the wet clothes, then get them undressed too."

Glorfindel wrapped himself in a blanket and then began to collect wood that could be used for a fire. A dead tree nearby provided plenty of wood, and with some effort Glorfindel collected an armful and staggered back to the others. He arranged the wood and tossed the torches on top, thanking the Valar when the dead wood easily caught fire.

Celeborn had finished undressing both elflings and wrapped them both in blankets. He gently laid them as close to the fire as he could without singeing their hair.

"Have your knife?" Celeborn asked Glorfindel wearily.

Glorfindel crawled over with the blade, and seeing Celeborn's intentions, began to help. They were both too tired to lift him, so they cut Elrond's soaked clothing from him, rolled him in a blanket and then dragged him to the fire. Glorfindel lay down behind the twins, pulling them close. Celeborn did the same for Elrond, sharing what body heat he had.

Celeborn felt Elrond stir against him, and begin to struggle against the restraint of the blankets. "Elrond, the twins are safe. You are safe," he murmured softly. Elrond opened his eyes and stared dumbly at his father-in-law.

"What….?"

Celeborn gently turned his head and pointed to where Glorfindel was warming the twins and assessing their injuries. He was already splinting Elladan's broken arm. "They are alive."

"Elrohir hit his head. Has he woken up yet?"

Celeborn shook his head. "Not yet." He looked at Glorfindel who carefully checked both of the elfling's eyes and then nodded at him. "But his eyes are fine, responsive to light. He will wake up soon," he reassured him. He felt Elrond relax against him again and fervently but silently called upon Elbereth for it to be so.

* * * * *

Chapter 12: Coming Home

* * * * *

Glorfindel felt himself dozing off in the heat of the sun, blankets, and fire and forced himself to wakefulness. Across the fire, he could see Celeborn struggling to stay awake as well.

"How does Elrond fare?" Glorfindel asked.

Celeborn jumped slightly, his eyes focusing as he also regained wakefulness. He stroked the forehead and dark hair of the elf in his arms, felt that his skin had warmed, and then placed a hand over Elrond's chest and felt that his life force beat strong. Elrond stirred at his touch.

"He improves," Celeborn finally said. "He should wake soon. How are my grandsons?"

"Cold still, but Elladan looks better," Glorfindel reported. He too found that he kept touching the ones in his care, as if he were afraid they might disappear at any moment. "He stirs, but Elrohir remains unmoving."

Celeborn nodded. He recognized the need to keep talking, that they might stay alert. "Have you ever been so cold?"

Glorfindel smiled grimly. "Not since we crossed the grinding ice of the Helcaraxë. The water in that cave was nearly freezing. I am sure I felt ice."

Celeborn was silent for a moment as he continued to stroke Elrond's hair. "If he had not gone down the hole after them they would be dead," he finally said softly.

Glorfindel regarded Celeborn thoughtfully, seeing the look of great tenderness with which he beheld Elrond.

"I wish to be angry at him for placing himself into such danger, yet I cannot when I consider that his rashness saved Elladan's and Elrohir's lives," Celeborn continued.

Elrond stirred at that moment, his eyes blinking open and focusing on Celeborn, and he again struggled at the confines of the blanket. Celeborn sat up, pulling Elrond upright with him and letting the elf lean against him. Elrond's face changed to concern instantly as he saw his sons. He tried to stand, but his exhausted muscles declined to cooperate and he sank back against his father-in-law.

"I think you need a little longer to recover, Peredhil," Celeborn said as he saw the look of weariness cross the elf's face.

Glorfindel recognized the stubborn set to Elrond's jaw and saw determination flicker in his eyes. He stood and picked up Elladan, carrying him the short distance and placing him in Elrond's lap.

Elrond immediately began to examine the elfling, his hands lightly skimming his son's face, then pushing the blanket aside to run across his chest, abdomen, legs and arms, focusing on the splint that bound his right wrist. He finished by placing his own hand over the child's heart, and Glorfindel intervened when he saw Elrond begin to enter the healing trance. He placed Elrohir in Celeborn's other arm, and then quickly slipped his hand between Elladan and Elrond's hand.

"No, Elrond, you have no healing energy to give," Glorfindel said gently but firmly. He slid to the ground and supported Elrond from behind as Celeborn turned his attention to Elrohir.

Fortunately, Elladan chose that moment to open his own eyes and the first thing he saw was his ada. Elladan's unsplinted hand tangled in the blanket wrapped around his father, and he clung tightly to him as tears streamed down his face.

"You were so brave, Elladan," Elrond said as he hugged his son close. "I am so proud of you."

Elladan sniffed a few times and drew in a deep breath, gaining control over his quivering lower lip, and then he brushed the tears away from his eyes. "What of Elrohir, Ada?" he asked in a trembling voice.

Celeborn held Elrohir, his silver hair falling as a curtain between the elfling and his brother and father. As Glorfindel had done before him, he touched the elfling's feä and strengthened it, giving as much of himself as he could to heal the hurts and draw the little one close.

"Elrohir!" Celeborn called softly. "Elrohir!"

The elfling did not move, though, even at his grandfather's call, and Elladan whimpered.

"Ada, make Elrohir wake up," he pleaded.

Despite his calm demeanor, Glorfindel and Celeborn could both see the growing trepidation in Elrond's eyes, and Glorfindel gently extracted Elladan from his father's lap. Celeborn laid Elrohir in his place, and all watched as Elrond began his examination. He finally laid his hand across the elfling's chest and from within found strength to send to his son. Celeborn and Glorfindel aided him, one hand each on him and the other on Elrohir. Elladan did not fully understand what was happening, but he cuddled up to his brother and held his hand.

Their song rose in the meadow, filling the air around them and drifting to the caves and the stream. Harmony complemented their melody, rising in crescendo and falling again, as their song blended with that of Arda's. Finally, the little elfling stirred.

"Elrohir?" Elrond called gently. His hand cupped his son's face, his thumb stroking the soft cheek, which was finally turning pink again in the sunshine. Elrohir moved only slightly, leaning into his father's hand. Elrond gently touched the corner of the elfling's mouth, and smiled when the small mouth opened and the pink tongue licked the dry lips. He drew his hand away and the child leaned into where it had been, seeking the comfort it had offered. "Elrohir, open your eyes," he called again.

Slowly the eyes opened, the pupils constricting in the light and finally focusing on the face of the one calling to him. "Ada?" he croaked.

"Elrohir, ion-nín," Elrond gathered Elrohir close as tears streamed down his own face. "Do you know where you are, Elrohir?"

Elrohir turned his head slightly, wincing as the sun hit his face directly. Glorfindel moved to block the light, and Elladan lifted his brother's hand in his own.

"El, are you hurt?" Elrohir's voice was hoarse but full of concern at seeing the splint on Elladan's arm.

"Yes, and so are you," Elladan answered. "Do you remember what happened, 'Ro?"

Elrohir closed his eyes for a moment and appeared to be drifting off. Elrond stroked his cheek again and Elrohir opened his eyes. "We fell in the waterfall," he mumbled.

"Do you hurt, Elrohir?" Elrond prompted him gently.

"Head hurts, Ada," Elrohir whispered. His eyes were already drifting closed again. ". . .sleep . . . Ada. . . "

Convinced that Elrohir did not suffer from a serious head injury, Elrond placed his hand over his son's eyes and pushed him into a deep healing sleep. He then pulled the small body to his chest and gently rocked him. Elladan crawled to Elrond's knee and laid his head on father's leg. Elrond stroked the elfling's hair as tears of relief slid down his cheeks.

Glorfindel met Celeborn's eyes, and in a glance much was said. They needed to return to Imladris where the elflings could be properly treated and recover in their own beds.

Glorfindel wrapped the blanket about his chest and walked a short distance from the small group. He let forth a series of whistles and chirps and then waited. Moments later there was a response. Satisfied, he returned to the others.

"How long?" Celeborn asked.

"Perhaps an hour, maybe a little longer," Glorfindel replied. "And you?"

Celeborn smiled at the other elf, mirth in his eyes. "She sent aid while we were still atop the waterfall."

The ponies had ambled over the meadow to them, and Mithren pushed himself past Celeborn with a snort. The pony ducked his head and sniffed at Elrohir, blowing warm breath upon the back of the elfling's neck. He nuzzled him very gently, then did the same to Elrond before walking away.

Thinde walked to Elladan next, Celeborn gladly moving out of the way before needing to be nudged again. Thinde sniffed the splint on Elladan's arm, then nuzzled his head into the elfling's belly. He snuffled lightly, making Elladan giggle, and then he too strolled away.

Elladan quickly fell back into sleep, and Glorfindel built up the fire as both elflings still felt cool to the touch.

"We need to get them back to Imladris," said Elrond as he came out of his dozing state, glancing about him as if trying to determine the best way to do this.

"Help will be here soon," Celeborn replied, smiling when Elrond looked at him in surprise. "The northern patrol should arrive within the hour, and guards set out from Imladris well over an hour ago. We should all be in better shape to move by the time they arrive."

Elrond covered his eyes with his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing in deeply. He exhaled and looked down again at his sons. "I nearly lost them," he said quietly. He was silent for a moment, and Celeborn reached over and grasped his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Elladan saved Elrohir's life."

Glorfindel had been watching the horizon but came to sit next to Elrond. He and Celeborn waited expectantly for Elrond to tell the story.

"When I swung into the hole it was dark, and I could not see what was below me. I did not want to just let go, for fear of landing on one of them. So I swung to another branch, and when I was out of the light I could just make out a small figure below. It was then I realized they were in water. I called to Elladan again and he could barely speak, so I dropped into the water. The shock of the cold nearly took my breath away. I swam to them, and realized that Elladan was holding Elrohir's face out of the water. Elladan had broken his arm when he fell, and despite the pain he was holding his brother and kicking so hard to keep them both afloat," Elrond's voice broke and he stopped to breathe in deeply and gather his thoughts. "There was nothing to hold on to, so I pulled Elrohir into my arms and had Elladan wrap his arms about my neck. Elrohir was already turning blue, and Elladan's teeth were chattering, so I lifted them both on to my shoulders. Elladan held his brother up there, the cold numbing the pain in his arm, I guess," Elrond's voice faded. He glanced up at the two watching him with kind eyes. "I knew you would come, but I did not think we would be alive when you found us."

Elrond bowed his head over his sons as they lay sleeping in his lap. He spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion, "I did not want them to die alone, and I would not want to live if they had not. After I had thought that through, I tried to sense Celebrían's presence, to tell her I would go with them and that I would miss her. . ."

Celeborn stroked the dark head, emotion preventing him from speaking for a moment. "She would have come after you, ion-nín. She would not stay in Middle-Earth if the three of you were beyond it." He gently pushed Elrond to the ground, settling the twins carefully in his arms. "Rest until the patrol comes."

Glorfindel studied the elf in front of him. Celeborn had nearly lost his grandsons, son and daughter this day, for Glorfindel knew too that Celebrían would have given up her life to follow Elrond and her sons to the Halls of Mandos. He looked tenderly upon the dark hair of the three lying together in the grass, their faces obscured by the blankets.

Glorfindel turned his face into the western sun and his spirit bowed low. He had nearly failed at the task that had been set before him; he had failed them by letting the twins climb the rocks before he had inspected them. He recalled the face of Manwë as the Vala had laid before him his task of protecting the line of his king, a lineage that had nearly ended this day. The Valar had trusted him and he had nearly been proved unworthy.

"Stop that!" Celeborn said flatly.

Glorfindel looked into the angry eyes of the silver-haired elf in surprise and bowed his head.

"Stop that too," Celeborn demanded. Inwardly he smiled at the confused expression on the seneschal's face as he met the elf's glare. "You think you have failed them and are unworthy of the trust the Valar placed in you. I will tell you we are all guilty and yet none are guilty. The waterfall was fine the day before. I know because I was up there in the night and you the evening prior. You can dodge their every step and protect their every breath, Vanyar, but they are three and you are one and you cannot be three places at once."

Glorfindel glared back at the Sindar elf for a moment but quickly felt his resistance fade. He slumped slightly and Celeborn laughed. "I hope they have more children just so I can see you race about exhausting yourself."

Glorfindel chuckled. "I hope they wait a few years."

The two settled back to rest and recover their strength.

* * *

It was nearly an hour later when the first of the warriors appeared.

"They come as expected," Glorfindel murmured as he gazed northward. He stood and began walking towards them, clad only in the blanket wrapped about him and held to his chest.

"Suilad, Glorfindel," said Athranen, leader of the northern patrol, as he dismounted.

"Mae Govannen, Athranen," Glorfindel replied. "Your timing could not be better."

"So it appears," Athranen eyed his captain's attire with a raised brow. "Do the others fare better or worse than yourself?"

"The twins are injured," answered Glorfindel seriously. "Elrond recovers and Celeborn is well. Galadriel has sent aid from Imladris, but they are at least a half day away."

Athranen's eyes widened in surprise. "How seriously?" he asked, concern on his face.

"They shall recover," Glorfindel reassured him as he recalled that Athranen had a son just a few years older than the twins. "Elladan's arm is broken. Elrohir has a broken ankle and suffered a hard blow to the head. He was knocked unconscious in the fall. The rocks above the waterfall caved in and they fell into a deep pool beneath it. The cave to the north of the waterfall connects to the cavern through an underwater passage."

Athranen's eyes continued to grow wider as Glorfindel related the tale. "We have taken novices here for several centuries and all have climbed those rocks," he protested.

"Aye, Athranen, and today while Elrond's sons played on them they caved in," Glorfindel reiterated.

Athranen shook his head slowly but came around to the present problem quickly. "Do we need litters?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No, I thought we might at first, but I think we can safely carry them if someone is available to guide the horses through any rough terrain." He gazed ahead at the small party. "Elrond would like them home as soon as possible."

They were close enough now to see Elrond holding both of his sons. "I think the greater problem may be that he cannot hold them both on his horse."

"He will not hold either of them," Glorfindel answered flatly. "He held them on his shoulders, as he furiously tread water in freezing conditions, for more than an hour. He is exhausted."

"I am glad you shall be the one to tell him," Athranen murmured.

"Our campsite is in the clearing by the targets," Glorfindel directed the guards who had followed them. "Bring up all the packs. If any of you have garments to spare, Elrond and I both need clothing."

The elves dispersed silently, some bringing up the packs, some calling the horses and ponies, and others returning the campsite to order. Targets and archery items were returned to storage in the caves and two of the elves moved small boulders to block the climb up the waterfall. They would return later to decide how to protect the site permanently.

Glorfindel watched as Elrond and Celeborn dressed the sleeping elflings and then re-wrapped them in dry blankets provided by the guards. He noted Athranen hovering near them, assisting without direction, and he supposed that as a parent the elf saw his own child and empathized, as he knew it could have been his own son in the situation.

"Lord Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel turned to see one of Imladris' youngest warriors standing before him. When he nodded the young elf continued, "There is none here so tall as you, but Garthon is closest and he has spare tunic and trousers."

"Thank you, Meldon, they will do," Glorfindel replied kindly as he took the proffered garments. The young elf left with a smile on his face; despite the fact that Glorfindel had helped train him, he was still in awe of the Balrog-slayer. Glorfindel dressed in trousers that did not reach his ankles and a tunic whose sleeves came no where near his wrists. Despite his other concerns, he managed to spare a growl at Erestor.

Elrond and Celeborn mounted their horses, and Glorfindel handed Elladan to Celeborn. Glorfindel then picked up Elrohir and placed him in Athranen's arms, mounted his own horse and then took elfling from the guard. Elrond appeared about to protest as he drew up near Glorfindel.

"Your hands shake, Elrond. You are pouring yourself out as fast as you are replenished," Glorfindel quietly chastised. "I will take him the first part of the journey at least."

Glorfindel held Elrohir cradled to his chest, his horse needing no guidance on these paths. He sang softly to the child and smiled when he heard Celeborn singing to Elladan. At several junctures in the song the warriors of the northern patrol joined in, adding their harmony and making the music swell to the peaks of the hills. He also noted that Athranen had taken a position beside Elrond and several times guided the horse when the elf-Lord drifted asleep.

The Imladris guards met them just before they reached the half-way point of the journey. Athranen promised Glorfindel a thorough exploration of the caves and either a shoring up of the unstable rocks or complete blockage of the path, and the warriors departed to finish their time on the northern border while the rest of the travelers took a short break.

"Celebrían did not come?" Glorfindel asked as he drew his horse up to where Celeborn was finishing repeating a shortened version of their story.

"Lady Galadriel would not allow her to do so," Erestor replied.

The two elves stared at each other; Erestor eyeing the too-small clothing while Glorfindel sniffed the air, finally leaning closer to Erestor.

"What did you bathe in? Mildew?" he asked, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"You would know," retorted Erestor. "Forget to bring your own clothing?"

"You would know," Glorfindel repeated.

They continued to glare at each other for a moment but were distracted by a small yawn from Elrohir.

Glorfindel's face softened immediately and he tenderly stroked the small cheek, eliciting a slight lip smacking, a natural response from a sleeping child.

"Is he awake?" Erestor asked softly, reaching to stroke the dark hair that hung over Glorfindel's arm.

"Elrond has put them both into healing sleeps. They shouldn't wake until we are back in Imladris," Glorfindel replied. "They were both in pain; better that any accidental jostling does not cause them more discomfort."

Erestor looked at Glorfindel. "Seriously, what happened to your clothing?"

Glorfindel studied the elf for a moment, sensing no deceit in him. "You did not replace my spare garments with….. other items?"

Erestor shook his head. He fingered his hair, grimacing at the smell. "You are not responsible for this?"

Glorfindel shook his head. They both turned to look at Elrond, who was sitting straight upon his horse, but clearly walking the path of elven dreams.

"Do you think it was him?" Erestor finally asked.

Glorfindel shrugged and grinned. "After all this has passed, we shall find out."

Erestor took charge of Elrond and they finished the rest of the journey home without incident.

* * *

They reached Imladris in the light of Ithil, with stars twinkling overhead. Lanterns were lit all about The Last Homely House and many elves of Elrond's house were gathered about the lawn and front porch to meet them.

Celebrían flew down the stairs and into the yard as soon as the first horse appeared. She swiftly discerned who held her sons, and as Glorfindel and Celeborn dismounted she moved quickly from one to the other, touching each child to confirm for herself that they lived and were not seriously injured.

"Why do they not wake?" she asked, desperation in her voice, as she stroked Elrohir's hair.

She felt Elrond behind her, his arms encircling her waist and his head nuzzling against her neck.

"I have put them into a healing sleep. They will wake soon," he explained tiredly. "Elladan has a broken wrist, and Elrohir a broken ankle and nasty bump on the head. They both were awake earlier and talking. They will recover," he reassured her.

Celebrían turned in his arms and buried her head against his chest, her arms wrapping tightly about him. "And you, meleth-nín, are you injured?" she asked as tears began to stream down her face.

"Nay, Celebrían, I am merely tired," he whispered into her ear as he held her close.

Celebrían pulled away slightly, wiping away the tears that still wet her cheeks, and then ran her hands along her husband's face. She saw a great weariness in his eyes, and as she tried to touch his mind she felt a weak barricade erected against her. She pushed gently and the barrier fell, and the remnants of the fear that had nearly overwhelmed him earlier that day flowed through her. She braced herself against the mild onslaught and allowed herself to see the depth of emotion that Elrond had experienced. She felt his guilt that the accident had happened and how he had prepared himself to face her anger or disappointment with him for failing their children so. She dared to probe a little further and felt the now controlled emotions he had wrestled with as he thought their sons would die and his decision to follow them. She felt the sorrow he had felt when he had reached out to her and she was not there. Her own emotions bubbled within her as she realized he had wished to tell he was sorry for leaving her and that he loved her.

Celebrían gently disengaged herself from her husband's spirit and pulled his body tight against her again. "Come, all three of you need to be put into warm beds."

As she looked around, she realized the horses and ponies had been led away and Glorfindel and her father were already entering the house with their precious bundles still cradled in their arms. She pulled gently on Elrond's arm and led him into the house and to their chambers.

Her mother was already present, helping Celeborn and Glorfindel to undress her grandsons and garb them in comfortable night tunics. She held each child for a moment; her eyes closed as she concentrated deeply, then placed the elflings into the big bed. Celebrían helped Elrond dress in his nightclothes and held the covers back as he crawled into the bed next to his sons. Celebrían watched as Galadriel sat down next to him on the bed. She spoke no words, but yet seemed to be communicating with Elrond. He looked away, and Galadriel placed a hand on his cheek and turned his head back to her. She ran her hand lightly across his eyes and forehead and his eyes shuttered as he relaxed into a deep sleep.

Galadriel stood and approached Celebrían. "They will not wake until morning."

"Mother, why could Elrond not reach me earlier? Was the distance too great?" Celebrían asked thoughtfully.

Galadriel was silent for a moment. She appeared to be deciding what to say when Celeborn spoke. "Tell her the truth."

Galadriel's eyes flashed at Celeborn for an instant, but he did not flinch. She turned back to her daughter, taking Celebrían's hand in her own. "He could not reach you because I blocked him."

Celebrían pulled back, aghast. "Why would you do that?"

"I knew how close your father and Glorfindel were to reaching them. I did not want Elrond to give up. If all he waited for was your touch, your permission, then he might have gone," she explained, as she looked her daughter in the eyes. She bowed her head slightly. "I also did not want you to know how dire their circumstances were."

Celebrían felt the wall at her back, and she leaned against it for a moment as she considered her mother's words. She never took her eyes from Galadriel's face, and the eyes that met hers held love but no repentance. "I wish to be alone with my husband and sons," she finally said neutrally.

Galadriel nodded and moving forward squeezed Celebrían's hand before leaving the room. Glorfindel had slipped out quietly when the discussion started, and now Celeborn stopped before his daughter.

Celebrían looked at her father and thought she had never seen him so weary. With a small cry she took a step forward and gently wrapped her arms about him, tucking her head under his chin. In her father's arms she had always felt safe and this time was no exception. She did not hold him long, though, as she felt the stiffness in his muscles and in the way he held himself. "Go and sleep, Adar," she whispered. "I love you. Thank you."

She felt him squeeze her shoulders tightly one last time, and with a kiss to her forehead he silently left the room.

Celebrían moved to sit on her side of the bed. She slid under the covers and propped herself on her elbow. Her free hand stroked the hair and faces and limbs of her sons and her husband. Their faces were now peaceful and their bodies relaxed. She would hear from them each tomorrow about their adventure and near tragedy.

She thought of her mother's words as her hand lingered on Elrond's hair. She rubbed the silky strands between her fingertips and thought of how close she had come to losing him. Her mother's gift of foresight, her ability to see things the rest of them could not, was both a blessing and a curse. She was angry that her mother had interfered with the bond she held with her husband, for not even the Valar dared to interfere with a bond so sacred. Yet what if her mother was right? Might she have actually helped save them by not allowing Elrond release? Celebrían decided that while the first of her mother's motivations might have merit, the second did not. Her mother did not have the right to interfere in such a way merely to protect her daughter from pain.

Yet her mother had not done this merely to protect her daughter. Celebrían understood only a very little of the power that Galadriel held, yet she believed in her mother enough to doubt she would grossly misuse it. Nor had her mother protected her from pain throughout her life. At least not all pain, Celebrían ruefully reminded herself. How many incidents would she never know about?

A little voice inside Celebrían reminded her of the love her mother held for her. Galadriel would not regret or repent of the action taken, for she would see no purpose in doing so when the outcome was favorable. Celebrían felt her anger slip away and she forgave her mother this trespass, for not to do so would lead to a rift between them. There was no changing Galadriel. She either had to love her as she was or allow a chasm to grow between them. For the sake of her sons, her husband, her father, and even herself, she would not cause such a thing.

She smiled at Elrond as he lay sleeping. She wondered what communication had passed between him and her mother. Had he given his permission to be pushed into a healing sleep? She doubted it, yet she was grateful. He needed the rest and would not have taken it willingly. Celebrían also knew that Galadriel likely imparted a great deal of healing and strength into him when she had induced the sleep. She wondered how Elrond would see Galadriel's interference? Would he, like his wife, be angry but let it go? Or would he see Galadriel's position at once and express no personal feeling - only admit to the necessity of the action? She rather envied his ability to separate his feelings and emotions from such acts. Celebrían sighed softly. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she knew Elrond was as guilty as her mother in protecting her from knowledge and acts of evil. She was born of powerful people and married another. Elrond once told her she was wise and powerful in her own way and she supposed that was true, although, she sometimes considered her true wisdom was that she knew far more than any of them thought and kept it to herself.

She rose from the bed and left their chambers. Her mother was leaving her chamber at the same time.

"Is Adar resting?" Celebrían asked as she fell into step beside her mother, linking her arm with Galadriel's.

Galadriel's eyes twinkled. "He also shall not wake until morning."

Celebrían laughed softly. "May I guess that he was given little choice in the matter?"

"None," Galadriel agreed. "He has already forgiven me, for he knows I am right in this."

Celebrían leaned her head against her mother's shoulder briefly. "You usually are," she answered dryly.

Galadriel wrapped her arm about her daughter's shoulders as they continued down the hall.

"I must thank Glorfindel, too," Celebrían said after a moment.

Galadriel smiled wickedly. "I shall come with you."

* * * * *

Chapter 13: A New Star Rises

* * * * *

Elrond woke feeling strangely refreshed. His eyes focused on the ceiling of his chamber and in that moment a rush of memory returned to him. He quickly turned his head to Celebrían's side of the bed and a look of tenderness crossed his face. He cautiously turned on to his side to better view the other occupants of the bed.

Celebrían lay on her side facing him, her silver hair hanging loose across her shoulders and down her back. In her left arm she held Elrohir, their faces nearly touching. Her eyes were open but unfocused, and he knew she lightly slept. Elladan lay on his back, his splinted arm resting across his belly next to his mother's right hand. Both children slept deeply, their eyes shuttered and their bodies relaxed and unmoving.

He reached out and gently touched each face in turn. Elladan nuzzled the hand that tenderly stroked his cheek. Elrohir leaned into his hand and seemed wroth to have it removed, a little mewling noise escaping him as Elrond withdrew from him. Long fingers then tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind a delicate ear, and Celebrían's eyes immediately came into focus and she smiled. They leaned carefully over their sons and kissed, a gentle touch that reached beyond the physical senses to their very being.

"Have you kept watch, meleth-nín, this entire night?" Elrond asked softly.

"I know the number of breaths you each breathed and every slight movement you each made," Celebrían replied, her words tender but the look in her eyes even more so.

Elladan stirred and stretched, then rolled slightly to the warm body next to his, snuggling with his brother. Elrohir yawned and moved his free arm to rest on his brother. They opened their eyes at the same time. They greeted each other with slight grins, confusion then crossing their faces when they realized they did not know where they were.

"Elrohir, Elladan," Celebrían greeted them, her soothing hand brushing hair back from their mouths and eyes.

"Nana!" Elladan cried as he sat up abruptly. He flung his arms about his mother's neck as she reached for him.

Elrohir's greeting was interrupted by a slight cry of pain that escaped him as he tried to sit up. One hand flew to his head and he sank back against the pillow, closing his eyes.

Elrond quickly moved to his son, his hand covering the small one that pressed against the bump on the head. The pain eased and Elrohir opened his eyes, now tear-filled. "Ada, my head hurts," Elrohir said, trying not to whimper or cry.

He turned his face slightly to see his mother and brother. Joy momentarily lit his face. "Nana!" he cried softly, and then tears really did start.

Celebrían smiled and kissed his forehead, her hand cupping his small face. "Oh, Elrohir, I am so glad you are awake," her voice was calming and soothing. "I was sad last night when I couldn't talk to you, but I know it was better for you to sleep."

Elrohir's tears stopped in response to the love in his mother's voice and he smiled instead.

Celebrían drew back the covers and gently touched his splinted ankle. "You have a broken ankle, too, tithen-el nín. Does it hurt?"

Elrohir seemed surprised by this news. He moved his leg slightly, testing it. "Only a little, Nana," he answered. "El hurt his arm," he informed her.

Celebrían turned her attention to Elladan's splinted arm, running her hand gently over it. "I see that. How is your arm, Elladan? Does it hurt?"

"Not really, Nana," Elladan replied, his good arm slipping through his mother's as he again attached himself to her side.

"I know you have not eaten since the mid-day meal yesterday," Celebrían said with a shake of her head. "You must be very hungry. Would you like some breakfast?" They both nodded. "Well, let me ask the cooks to make your favorites. There are even fresh strawberries. We will have breakfast here in our room and then I will help you both get dressed. After that I think your daernaneth and I need to hear your story. I understand I have two very brave sons."

Elrond sat leaning against the headboard of the bed, watching as Celebrían mothered their sons, lavishing attention and care upon them, and he smiled as the twins perked up and their pain faded. Their faces glowed at her last words and she kissed them both again before leaving the bed, putting on her dressing robe and disappearing into the hallway to make arrangements for breakfast. Elladan crawled to his father's lap, but Elrond held a light restraining hand upon Elrohir's shoulder when he moved to follow.

"Carefully, Elrohir. Don't move your head too fast," he cautioned. He supported the child's head and helped him to sit, then pulled the elfling to sit in his lap, his cheek resting against Elrond's chest.

"What happened, Ada?" Elrohir finally asked.

"What do you remember, Elrohir?" Elrond prompted him.

"I remember the rocks were loose," Elrohir replied slowly. "Then Elladan fell. I started to fall too, but my foot got caught. I tried to pull myself up and then I don't remember anything." He looked at Elladan. "Do you remember what happened?"

Elladan nodded. "I fell through the rocks and they broke my arm. I heard it snap. Then I fell into the cold water. Then you fell in too, but you did not move or speak or anything. I swam to you and turned your face out of the water and held you up until Ada came."

Elrohir's eyes had widened as Elladan spoke. "You saved my life," he said incredulously. He tugged on Elrond's night tunic. "Ada, El saved my life!"

Elrond smiled as the twins looked at each other in wonder. "Elladan was very brave and he is a hero," he said simply. Elrohir gripped Elladan's uninjured hand in his own and did not let go until breakfast arrived.

* * *

Elladan walked and Elrond carried Elrohir to his study after the twins had been fed and dressed. They met numerous elves in the corridor, many more so than normal, and each one greeted the elflings and Elrond with merry words and often with a small gift. Many words of praise were offered to all three of them, citing their bravery and courage; and much ado was made over the elflings' injuries, with many a healing touch given unobtrusively by those with that gift.

Elrond closed the door behind them and set Elrohir on the comfortable couch, propping his broken ankle up on pillows. Elladan set his small handful of treasures in his brother's lap and climbed up to sit next to him.

"Look, Ada! A flower and a shiny stone and a carved cat and a little glass ball - look at how the light hits it! - and a whistle," Elladan's voice trailed off and he arched an eyebrow at his father, little knowing how much he resembled his Ada at that moment. "Ada, why did everyone give us things?"

Elrond smiled at his sons as they both looked at him curiously. "Many people give small gifts as a way of saying that they are sorry you are injured and they are glad you will recover," he explained.

The twins were carefully looking over their treasures when the door opened, and Glorfindel and Erestor entered the room. Glorfindel's eyes reflected his relief as he saw the elflings and a smile lit his face. He greeted them warmly, picking up Elladan and sitting in his place, the child in his lap. The twins delighted to show him the gifts they had been given and soon Elrohir was turned so he leaned against the elf instead of the couch back.

Celebrían, Celeborn and Galadriel arrived last, completing the small circle that had come to hear the tale told in its entirety, for none had heard all parts of the story yet. Elrond watched in amusement as Glorfindel immediately stood, allowing Galadriel to sit in his place. Galadriel spoke no words at first to her grandsons, instead taking each small face in her hands, in turn, and gazing deeply into their eyes as she gently probed their hearts and minds. Neither child knew what she was doing, or why, but when she released them they both seemed refreshed and their eyes sparkled a little brighter.

Celeborn picked up Elrohir and sat next to his wife. He whisp