Title: The Double Sin
Author: Squirrelchaser (squirrelchaser12@yahoo.com)
Warnings: Slash/incest (Elladan/Elrohir), product of an mpreg, character 
death
Important: Tolkien states that the Eldar (i.e.: elves like Glorfindel and 
Elrond) are able to tell when two elves are bonded (and sex=marriage) – I 
did not just make that up. He also states that elf children can walk, talk, 
dance and sing before they are one year old (Morgoth’s Ring) 
AN: takes place after the War of the Ring, right before Elrond leaves for 
Valinor; the time line of story is slightly skewed to make events of the 
story make sense (i.e.: messages can’t travel that fast but you need to 
know what’s happening in Imladris) *Text* indicates thoughts/italics.
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns these characters and I am not Tolkien. If the 
poor guy were alive and knew half of what we did to his characters and 
story lines, he’d probably kill himself.
~Thank you to Antoinette and Bambi Rae for their invaluable beta 
reading~

The Double Sin
      It was the quiet, damp sort of afternoon with rain pattering softly in 
the background that always made Elrond reflect on the past, which could 
make for a joyful or sad passing of time.
      *One week,* he thought, *before Celebrían and I are to see each 
other again for the first time in…well, a very long time.* The elf lord 
closed his eyes, swallowing hard. *There is much I need to tell her…how 
will she react when she learns that I will bring none of our children to 
her?*
      Slowly Elrond continued his steps down a hallway, not knowing 
exactly where he was going until he stopped at the corridor which ended 
in a vast, circular balcony which looked out toward the Misty Mountains. 
There were two doors on either side of the balcony, and Elrond chose the 
one to his right.
      The bedchamber of Elrohir had remained untouched since its 
inhabitant had gone.
      ~*~
       “Elrohir has changed,” Elladan complained to Glorfindel as they 
walked through the gardens one afternoon. “He does not eat much and is 
distant and silent to me!”
      The golden haired elf knit his eyebrows, his mood remaining light. 
“I beg to differ, or perhaps we are thinking of different Elrohirs.”
      At this attempt at humor, Elladan scowled.
      “Can you not tell; for he sings more often, and when he has not 
barricaded himself in his room he wanders around with a ridiculous 
melancholy expression on his face that can only mean one thing: Elrohir is 
love!” Glorfindel said dramatically to an unconvinced and unimpressed 
Elladan.
      “He would have told me,” Elladan snapped peevishly, irritated at 
the very notion of his brother falling in love without his knowledge. “I 
would have known.”
      “Elrohir will come out of this or tell you before too long, I think.” 
Glorfindel nodded and smiled down at him, but Elladan scowled again in 
return.
      “I will rouse him out of this, or prove you wrong Glorfindel!” the 
dark haired elf declared and turned to make his way to his brother’s room 
where Elrohir had kept himself in seclusion for the past day and a half.
      “Take care,” Glorfindel called after him. Standing alone in the 
shade of a tree, the golden haired elf frowned. Something did not feel right 
but he could not put his finger on it, and Elladan’s determination to change 
the situation made him certain that it would only lead to trouble.
      Moments later, reaching his destination, Elladan tried the entrance 
to his brother’s room but found it locked. Impatiently Elladan rattled the 
door handle. “Elrohir!” He yelled but there was no reply. “I know you are 
within. Open the door!”
      For a long moment only birdsong through the open windows could 
be heard, but at length the bolt turned and Elrohir opened the door. He 
licked his lips, not quite meeting his brother’s identical grey eyes and said 
quietly, “What is it?”
      “I…wanted to see you,” he finished lamely, realizing he had no 
real purpose for coming.
      Still not meeting his gaze, Elrohir gave a short scoff, one eyebrow 
raised in an expression much like his Adar as he turned and walked further 
into his chamber with Elladan following. Elrohir sat down at the window 
ledge, leaning against the frame and throwing one long leg over the side 
and staring pensively out at the valley.
      Elladan was at a loss. To everyone else Elrohir was quiet, serious, 
nearly shy; Elladan took great care to watch for his brother in public 
situations knowing how much he loathed them. But only with his twin and 
his father was Elrohir verbal and expressive, and until now Elladan had 
been in tune with nearly every thought and emotion that had glanced 
through his mind through the bond they had shared since birth. But as of 
late his insight had grown cloudy and he did not know what to do; Elladan 
felt as if half his soul was slowly slipping away and he was powerless to 
do anything about it. “It is so beautiful…today,” he began slowly, unsure 
of where he was going. “I thought, maybe, we could go riding and…hunt, 
perhaps?”
      Finally Elrohir turned his head and looked, with a guarded gaze, 
into his brother’s eyes for the first time.
      *He has never been this silent to me!* Elladan thought wretchedly. 
“Please?” he added.
      The please seemed to do the trick; Elrohir swung his leg back 
inside and stood, giving possibly the smallest of smiles. “As you will, my 
brother.”
      Elladan smiled in satisfaction. That was a little more like the 
Elrohir he knew and loved.
      The strides of their horses were matched as they flew across the 
narrow paths from the valley to the wide open plains beyond Imladris. 
Elladan watched his brother riding ahead in satisfaction; he could feel the 
happiness and relief emanating from his twin as it always did when they 
were on horseback.
      The wideness of nature instead of the confines of the house seemed 
to bring a healing change to Elrohir’s heart and soul, troubles seeming to 
become forgotten as the day waned on.
      The rest of the afternoon was spent tracking a promising looking 
buck, but Elladan had just notched an arrow to his bow and taken aim 
when there was a hand on his arm. He lowered his aim and turned to see 
Elrohir looking at him with a strange expression, one of fear and 
apprehension with a trace of dread. “Yes,” Elladan said quickly. “He is too 
beautiful to slay. Besides,” he smiled. “Should we bring down our query 
now that would bring an all too quick end to our excursion!”
      “It is so peaceful here,” Elrohir sighed, inhaling the scent of the 
greenery surrounding him and Elladan could feel the pulse of the bond 
between them for the first time in a great while.
      *He does not want to go back,* Elladan sensed. “Let us spend the 
night out here,” he suggested and Elrohir’s interest peaked. “We can bring 
down some small game.”
      “That buck is too much for the two of us anyway,” Elrohir said as 
the graceful creature meandered away through the trees, blissfully 
unaware of the peril he had just escaped. “And I have some lembas in my 
pack. We are a little too late in our decision-making to set snares in time 
for dinner, so we shall test our archery skill on these swift rabbits, shall 
we?”
      Smiling back at his twin Elladan set the pace across the field and 
the hunt for the creatures was on. He could feel his twin’s eyes on him as 
he drew back his bow but was too preoccupied with the prey in front of 
him to pay it much heed.
      Night had fallen as they made camp, their small fire sending 
glowing sparks up into the dark star lit sky. 
      Lapping the last bits of juice from his fingers Elladan cast the 
remains of his dinner aside and cocked his head to Elrohir, narrowing his 
eyes thoughtfully at the far away look in his twin’s distracted gaze. *At 
least he is eating again.* “What is it, my brother?”
      Elrohir blinked, eyes coming back into focus. “What is what?”
      Rising and pacing a few steps forward, Elladan settled down right 
next to the long form spread leisurely on the ground. “You, Elrohir,” he 
said gently but poking his brother teasingly. “Today is the first time in 
many days you have been yourself. Something has changed in you; you 
know I can feel it.” Elladan leaned forward and set his chin on his 
brother’s knee, bringing his face inches away from Elrohir’s.
      “Yes, I know you can feel it,” Elrohir said softly. 
      “Will you not tell me what is troubling you? Glorfindel thinks it is 
because you are in love!” Elladan opened his mouth to scoff at the idea but 
stopped.
      Pain filled Elrohir’s grey eyes, and Elladan felt a stab of hurt flash 
through his own heart. “What is it, what is it that makes you ache so?” 
Elladan immediately became serious at his brother’s expression and 
grabbed the other’s long hands in his own, alarm raising his voice a notch. 
“Oh, you must tell me, and we can make it go away; we must, we always 
have,” he said desperately.
      Elrohir said in a strangled voice, bowing his head to their clasped 
hands, “I cannot tell you. And no Elladan, we have not always been able 
to make it go away.”
      Elladan reached forward in an attempt to clasp his brother to him 
but Elrohir shook him off and pushed him away, standing and striding out 
of the circle of light.
      “Please,” Elrohir trembled. “Please do not touch me.”
      Hurt, Elladan said frantically, trying to salvage some of the relief 
that the day had brought, “I will not touch you or question you further 
tonight, if that is your wish.”
      Elrohir closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky.
      “Elrohir, come back into the light where I can see you. You are 
frightening me,”
      As he was bid Elrohir returned.
      Spreading his cloak out on the ground next to him, Elladan patted 
it lightly and said, “Sleep. There is no need to take watch; we are still well 
within Adar’s protection.”
      
      “What!!??” Elladan yelped, jumping out of his cushioned chair. 
“Adar, surely you jest!”
      Elrond raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Surely Elrohir spoke to 
you ab– “
      “NO!!!” Elladan howled. “Not a word!”
      Now Elrond was even more confused. Yes, he had know that 
Elrohir had not been himself lately but it was completely out of character 
for either twin to make a small decision – let alone a large one such as this 
– without the other knowing.
      A decision quickly firming in his mind Elladan crossed the room 
and wrenched the door to his father’s study open. “Adar, consider all of 
Elrohir’s plans to leave for the Grey Havens on hold for now, until you 
hear other wise.” With these parting words Elladan stepped through the 
door and it slammed behind him. “Elrohir!” he nearly shouted as he 
reached his brother’s room, throwing the unlocked door wide and finding 
his brother stretched out on his bed. Crossing the room Elladan jumped 
onto the bed, threw one leg over Elrohir and sat on him hard, pinning his 
shoulders down with both hands. “I am not going to move from this spot 
until you tell me why exactly in all of Arda you were making plans to sail 
for Valinor.”
      Elrohir blinked. “To visit Amar?”
      For the first time that he could remember Elladan felt anger at his 
twin rising in him. Giving his shoulders a small shake he snapped, “No 
jokes!”
      Elrohir could feel the mounting fury in his twin and he sighed in 
defeat. “Close the door.”
      “You promise me you will take me into your confidence?” Elladan 
said fiercely, not relenting.
      “I will tell you whatever you want to know.” He was released, and 
he sat up against the headboard, watching Elladan close and lock the door 
before returning to his spot on the bed. For the first time, Elrohir felt 
himself at a loss for words for his brother, and he stared down at his hands 
clasped on his bent knee, unsure of how and where to begin.
      “What is it that has hurt you so bad you sail for the Undying 
Lands, without a word to me?”
      The upset in Elladan’s voice clenched Elrohir’s heart so painfully 
that he let out a sob.
      Elladan, heart breaking at the noise of distress he had not heard 
from anyone in a long time, impulsively moved forward and took his 
brother in his arms, relieved when Elrohir did not fight him. “Tell me all,” 
he begged when the twin remained silent as he rocked him in his arms. 
“Tell me so that I may help you bear this burden,”
      At length Elrohir drew a shuddering sigh. “I love someone.”
      Inwardly Elladan gave a moan. Glorfindel had been right all along; 
he would have to make sure and not tell him of that fact. Stroking his 
brother’s hair, Elladan guessed: “And they do not return your love? Tell 
me who it is, and I will make them love you!” he demanded.
      Elrohir laughed ruefully. “It is not so simple as that. They love me, 
but not as a lover.” He pulled back slightly to look into Elladan’s eyes, 
letting his guard down and their bond reopened, Elrohir allowing all of his 
unspoken words of desire pour out through the bond they shared.
      Such longing poured into his soul, so much craving and want 
flooded into him that Elladan gasped, suddenly unsure of where Elrohir’s 
yearning ended and his own began. Elladan had never though of his 
brother or of males as such until now, but their souls were so akin when 
the connection was open that the moment the possibility hit him, his heart 
was lost, and Elladan did not have any intention of retrieving it.
      Feeling comprehension dawn in his brother Elrohir said softly, 
“And that is why I must go.”
      “Oh...I will go with you!”
      “No.” Shaking his head Elrohir said soothingly, “That would 
defeat the purpose, dear brother. I go from you to escape this.”
      Elladan started to weep, clinging to his twin. “Our souls are as one; 
to part ways would slay us!”
      “So emotional, always so emotional my dear brother.” Cradling his 
dark head to his chest Elrohir murmured, “Better to die with your soul but 
without your body, Elladan, than to have both and face banishment and to 
bring shame to Adar.”
      “Elrohir, I do not care! Why must you be so reasonable? I want to 
bond to you and it is selfish but; I do not care!”
      The look on his twin’s face was so earnest, so pleading, and the 
bond of brotherhood between them was so intense that Elrohir broke and 
began to weep also. “Do not ask that of me, of us; this double sin of male-
male incest! When we are slain by our kin we could not even pass to 
Mandos!” Elrohir struggled to get up, to run away from his brother who 
clung to him so insistent and needy but Elladan pinned him down, 
grabbing his face in his hands and kissing him in a clumsy first attempt.
      “Then our Fëa would be without a home but we would be together, 
wandering but together, for all time,” he whispered breathlessly, pulling 
back only slightly so his breath tickled his twin’s face, his hands starting 
to snake up beneath the hem of his tunic. 
      Beneath him Elrohir let out a sob of defeat, of want, of mourning 
for the loss of life they would never have and those that were left behind. 
“If we bond all would be able to tell by looking at us; what is written in 
our hearts will be written in our eyes…Adar will be shamed…how will we 
face them? How can we do this?”
      “If we do not and we are separated, we will die; if we bond, we 
shall be slain…” Elladan feathered his ignorant lips over his brother’s 
once again. “Let us take this one night that we have for our own; you are 
shaking, and I can feel the throb of your soul, my brother. I know it is not 
from lack of want that you refuse.”
      Elrohir groaned at the thought of what they could have. “Must you 
always rush into things?”
      “It has always been my way.” With great effort Elladan released 
Elrohir from his grasp and backed slowly away to the door. “But if you are 
abject then let us do this: tomorrow after evening meal and when all have 
gone to bed I will come to you, and if you still desire to sail for Valinor, 
then you will leave once and for all. If not, we will bond?” Elladan 
watched Elrohir close his eyes, swallowing hard and he could feel him 
fighting to control the pulse of physical desire raging between the two of 
them.
      “And if we bond, what then?”
      Elladan did not reply but Elrohir could feel his answer.
      “Yes,” Elrohir said softly. “Yes, you are right, but we must not do 
it in Adar’s realm.”
      
      That night, Elrohir shut the door to his chambers, expecting to pace 
and fret over the decision that lay before him, but deep in his heart he 
knew he had nothing to think about.
      *I am but half a soul without Elladan. I would bind to him in body, 
for we are already joined in mind, and live a brief second a complete 
person in sin, rather than depart for Valinor and dwell as a shadow of 
myself, without Elladan.* The elf smiled to himself. *Yes. Tomorrow 
night.*
      The following morning Elrohir skipped the morning meal and 
ignored the silvery chime that preceded it he headed out to the stable. He 
had hope to spend the day astride Pelro and in welcome solitude.
      The warm, sunny stable was nearly vacant as most of the horses 
had chosen to wander freely through the sun bathed valley at their leisure. 
Licking his lips Elrohir whistled, leaning on the stall door that opened into 
the stable aisle, waiting for his black mare to come through the opposite 
end that opened into the outside.
      “Oh,” 
      Elrohir turned to see Glorfindel coming into the stable and in turn 
whistled for Asfaloth.
      The blond Elda turned and smiled. “I am surprised that you are not 
with Elladan this morning. He has just left with Celro; perhaps you will 
join him?”
      Pursing his lips Elrohir turned to stroke Pelro’s nose as she came to 
the stall and nudged her elf expectantly. “Actually…I…thought I might 
spend my day indoors.” He could not look Glorfindel in the eye; all of a 
sudden it seemed the Elda’s keen blue eyes would be able to see his 
innermost thoughts…nearly as bad as Galadriel.
      Shifting his weight to one leg, Glorfindel surveyed the dark haired 
elf across from him. “Something is not right, Elrohir. Your brother has 
noticed it, as well as your Adar and I.” When Elrohir made no answer 
Glorfindel said gently, “I know you are not accustomed to opening your 
thoughts and heart, but –“
      “You stand correct,” Elrohir said sharply, turning to go. “I am not 
going to open my heart and thoughts on this matter.”
      Glorfindel said nothing, sadness tugging at his heart as he threw 
one leg over Asfaloth and they rode out into the lushness of the valley. 
“Go on,” he encouraged Asfaloth, “This will be your ride today,” and at 
his elf’s prompting the white horse nickered and took off into the valley.
      In the distance a dark figure on a horse raised an arm in greeting, 
and Asfaloth took off toward it, eventually drawing abreast of Celro and 
the horses touched noses. “Elladan,” Glorfindel greeted. “I just saw your 
brother leave the stable.”
      Elladan scowled. “Elrohir is out riding? I think then I will go back 
inside,” he started to nudge Celro with his heels.
      “No, Elrohir decided to not go out on a ride,” the Elda said slowly, 
wondering at this change in the twins.
      “Well, then,” Elladan turned Celro around. “Let us stay out, and 
race over to the nearest waterfall?”
      
      Night had fallen and Elrohir was perched in his window ledge, 
staring out at the sky with his decision firmly in place. “Come in,” he 
called when there was a soft knock at the door.
      At first Elrond said nothing as he stood beside his son in the 
starlight, remembering the bitter sweetness of his wife’s passing to 
Valinor so many years ago. “Elladan said to nullify your plans to go West, 
until I heard other wise from you,” he started, smiling to himself as he 
remembered Elladan’s vehemence. “I take it you have spoken with each 
other since yesterday morning?”
      “We have,” Elrohir did not turn to look at his father. “I will leave 
Imladris late tomorrow morning.”
      Elrond lowered his head slightly. “You will not tell me why you 
chose to leave?”
      “You will find out tomorrow, Adar, perhaps.”
      “As you wish then. Goodnight, Elrohir.” Elrond turned to leave, 
but felt his son stand and embrace him from behind.
      “Goodnight and goodbye, Adar. I will miss you.”
      Turning the elf lord returned Elrohir’s embrace. “I will miss you as 
well.”
      Elrohir sat patiently in his window and listened as the sounds of 
the house grew quieter, the singing of lore gradually turning to the gentle 
purr of a single lullaby, and Elladan slipped into his room as silently as a 
shadow. The latch caught with a soft click, and Elladan leaned against the 
wooden paneling, waiting, reaching out to his brother with his soul.
      “Lock the door, Elladan,” Elrohir said without turning from the 
window.
      Hope mixed with dread flared in Elladan’s heart as he did as he 
was bid, turning the small latch, locking the entrance against any possible 
intrusion. Crossing the room to the window he sat beside Elrohir, who 
gazed pensively out at the stars.
      “Look, there is Eärendil…shining bright as always.” Elrohir 
paused and licked his lips. “Do you think he can see what we are doing?”
      “If he does, I hope he does not tell Adar.”
      Elrohir turned to look at his brother, taking one hand. “I will bond 
with you tonight, Elladan, not sailing for Valinor, and am ready and 
willing to accept what must follow our union.” Reaching behind him he 
drew the curtain so that the bright starlight glowed faintly behind the thick 
panel. “And so we begin our end.”
      Elladan had moved to sit on the bed and was reaching for the tiny 
clasps that ran along the hidden seam at his shoulder but Elrohir, moving 
off his perch at the window, raised his hand. “No, brother, do not rush into 
this,” he reached the bed. “It would be my pleasure.”
      Inexperience slowed and made their endeavor clumsy, but love and 
inquisitiveness made up for tangled limbs and awkward kisses. They had 
never been so close, chest to heaving chest, hair intermingling, long hands 
gripping identical flesh, yet that first night they had never been thrown 
into such sharp juxtaposition.
      Elladan fought the ecstasy that made him tremble and pant, feeling 
Elrohir trembling for a very different reason below him, mewing softly in 
pain. “My brother,” Elladan whispered, raising a shaking hand to smooth 
the wayward locks of hair that clung to Elrohir’s lips.
      “Ai, Elladan,” Elrohir moaned, throat bobbing and eyes closing as 
he swallowed. “It hurts.”
      “Do you wish me to stop?” Elladan said, shifting his hips slightly 
and giving a cry at the rush of pleasure the movement brought.
      Elrohir’s head fell back into the mass of pillows. “N-no…be 
gentle.”
      
      “Elladan,” Glorfindel knocked gently on the door. “Elladan,” when 
there was still no answer and the Elda opened the door slowly, to be 
greeted by an empty bed chamber awash in the pale glow of the dawn. 
“Did Elladan and Elrohir both leave for the Havens? They did not bid 
farewell to me.” With a half mock expression of insult Glorfindel poked 
his head into Elrond’s sitting room, where the elf lord was pouring over a 
large book with Erestor.
      With a frown Elrond looked up. “Elrohir said that he would be 
leaving this morning, but I did not know that Elladan had chosen to go. 
But I suppose it is not a great surprise, as they are inseparable. I will write 
the Havens to inform them of both my sons’ impending arrivals.”
      
      The one night that they could have together, breaking all 
acknowledgement of kinship as it was overridden as they joined as lovers, 
ended as the glow of Eärendil was replaced by the more insistent light of 
the sun as dawn crept over Imladris.
      “My brother,” Elrohir stopped his horse at the edge of the dell. 
“Are you ready to say farewell?” Solemnly the twins gazed down at the 
valley, sparkling in the sunlight as a haven in the wilderness, a place 
where they were now not safe. *Good bye, Adar; we do this because we 
love you.* “Where shall we go, to finish?”
      “The Misty Mountains. We will not be found there, even when all 
is done.”
      With a sigh Elrohir agreed. “Yes. Have you a plot to get past the 
border guards? Other than,” he said quickly, glancing side long at his twin, 
“Riding really fast?”
      “You do not think that they will simply let us pass?”
      “No, for they will see in our eyes exactly what we fear they will 
see, and our journey to the Mountains will be unnecessary.”
      For a short while they rode in pensive silence.
      *For all the fear of discovery and hiding we face for the next days 
to come, until we reach our destiny, this will be the few last days that I 
treasure. I love and am loved freely, and that is all one needs,* Elladan 
reflected, and as Elrohir looked over to him and smiled he knew his 
brother could hear his thoughts and felt the very same.
      Dawn of the next day found the elves nearing the border, and 
Elladan said slowly, “I have a thought as to get past the guards. We will 
go separately and in different places, for surely if we went together we 
would be given away, but if we went independently it would only be 
known that we were bound.”
      “Then we shall separate and meet at the mouth of the Pass of the 
Misty Mountains?”
      “Yes, that is what should be best.” Elladan squeezed his twin’s arm 
briefly. “Farewell,”
      “But not for long,”
      
      *What do you mean, Cirdan, that my sons have not arrived to the 
Grey Havens?* Elrond glared at the parchment unrolled before him on his 
desk, but it did not change the words it bore. *Perhaps they are just 
late…perhaps they ran into trouble on the journey there.*
      
      “Greetings, son of Elrond,” a young Imladris border guard raised 
one hand in salute as the black mare strode past, arching her neck and 
tossing her head for she was in high spirits. “You have business through 
the Misty Mountains again? Where is your brother? I have rarely seen you 
apart.” He smiled conversationally as his father, who was on horseback, 
approached him from behind.
      Elladan narrowed his eyes and sighed. “Business, indeed,” he 
replied without smiling. *I do not like the way the elder looks at me for he 
can see what the other does not,* Elladan thought as he met the eyes of the 
older, wiser elf, and looked back into the merry, naive eyes of the first. “It 
is nothing of grave concern though,”
      The young elf nodded a little bemused as the dark haired twin 
continued on under the afternoon sun. It was not like Elladan to be so 
reserved; he usually enjoyed a brief stop and conversation while it was 
Elrohir who preferred to continue briskly on his way, but this time Elladan 
did not stop or dismount.
      “I had not heard word that the son or sons of Elrond had married to 
any, but it would not be surprising as they are more than of age.” When 
his son looked at him in surprise, he smiled at his innocence and 
continued, “Could you not tell from his eyes? Hmm. At any rate, I came to 
inform you that I am riding back to Imladris as it is time for the weekly 
report.”
      “Oh, Lindir has a message from Mirkwood that must be taken as 
well. He was hoping that you could…?”
      “Thank you, I shall stop and see Lindir before I leave.” The older 
elf nudged his horse and continued on his way. He had not traveled far 
when there was the approaching sound of hoof beats, light on the springy 
turf. Surprised, the elf turned. “Elladan! No, Elrohir,” he called, as the 
other twin emerged through the trees.
      Elrohir looked to see where the voice hailed from, and nodded 
briefly in greeting before clicking his tongue to his black mare and 
continuing on at a slightly increased pace.
      It was not unlike Elrohir to be brief in his exchange with the border 
guards for it was known that he opened to few. What surprised the elf was 
the new knowledge that both the sons of Elrond had been bound in 
marriage, and he had heard no news of either’s bonding. He shrugged to 
himself. Still, even under the tranquility of the late afternoon, something 
nagged at the back of his mind that he could just not place.
      Behind him Elrohir’s mind was racing. Once out of sight the dark 
haired elf leaned forward and whispered to his mare and she sprang 
forward with new urgency.
      *He knows I am bound,* Elrohir said to himself, anxiety growing 
in his chest. *Does he know it is Elladan?*
      Worries, anxiety, apprehension tumbled over each other in his 
mind, creating a hard knot of fear that turned into irritation as he reached 
his destination to wait.
      And wait.
      *Has something happened? No, that cannot be for I would have 
felt it…What is it then? What could be keeping Elladan?* Dismounting 
Elrohir sank down into the grass, fidgeting restlessly. Picking a daisy from 
its tender stem he pulled one petal off after another, rolling the velvety 
white between his thumb and forefinger and flicking it away into the 
grass. *No, nothing is wrong for Pelro is calm. She could sense distress in 
her twin as I can in mine, and we are both at peace.*
      The sun was sinking in the West when finally a figure appeared 
over the crest of the hill. Elladan cantered forward to where his twin stood, 
grinning. “You worry too much, my brother.”
      “I worry when you are late,” Elrohir reprimanded gently.
      “It was necessary to take the long path to keep encounters to a 
minimum.” The dark haired elf put a tender hand on his brother’s 
shoulder, leaning forward earnestly as careless, silky locks that blew 
around his eyes. “I trust you had no difficulty?”
      For brief moment of hesitation, Elrohir thought of the elderly 
border guard who now rode back to Imadris. “No,” he reached up and 
smoothed away the locks from his brother’s face. “No difficulty. Let us 
take a brief rest before we continue on our journey.”
      
      In a temper fueled by concern Elrond crumpled the message from 
Cirdan and threw it across the room. “My sons are unaccounted for. 
Cirdan says that they have not arrived, and it has been a week. It should 
not have taken a week for them to get to the Havens, so where are they?!” 
He glared at Erestor who raised his hands and shrugged helplessly.
      “If it would put your mind at ease, Elrond, a party could be sent 
out.”
      “Yes,” Elrond said briskly without looking to the tall, lean elf that 
had just entered the room. “What news from the western borders?”
      “You said your sons, Lord Elrond, are missing?”
      “Yes,” snapped Elrond. “Why?”
      “They just passed through our guards but a day ago; I was leaving 
when Elladan then Elrohir came through…or maybe it was Elrohir then 
Elladan. I do not remember correctly.”
      Looking up peevishly the elf lord demanded, “What do you mean 
they passed through you Western borders? They are to head East!”
      “Unless your identical set of twins has another identical set of 
twins, my lord, Elladan and Elrohir were heading West. And there is a 
message newly arrived from Mirkwood.”
      Erestor accepted the message for a very irate elf lord, broke the 
seal, unrolled it, and read aloud:
      
To Lord Elrond, ruler of Imladris,
      As time is of the essence, I will make my message brief.
      It has long been established that Imladris has been a haven. I write 
to warn you against giving refuge to Legolas who is currently fleeing from 
Mirkwood as we speak. If he should arrive and seek sanctuary, I request of 
you to hold him until the necessary arrangements can be made for him to 
be returned to his proper place and brought to justice for an indecent 
bonding. You will be compensated for any spoil that may incur from his 
confinement.
      Be warned that I will stop at nothing to see the former Prince 
returned, should you choose to forgo my warning and offer him 
protection.
From Alindel, advisor to the royal family of northern Mirkwood

      “Hmm.” Grunted Erestor. “A kin-bonding. That is most outlawed 
indeed.”
      The border guard started. *An indecent bonding… a kin-bonding!* 
Something in his mind clicked. *Elladan and Elrohir…that is what has 
been bothering me…but surely no, no that could not be!* Nervously the 
elf cleared his throat, first quietly, then slightly louder.
      At the noise the elf lord turned to him and growled.
      “Lord Elrond, forgive my bold question, but are your sons bound 
to any?” the elf asked with a sinking feeling in his chest.
      “I think you speak of my daughter, who was bound this past 
summer,” Elrond replied curtly.
      The elf lord looked so incensed the border guard dared not speak 
his suspicions. *It was just my mind,* he assured himself. *That is all, for 
surely such a thing could not take place in Imladris. Mirkwood perhaps for 
the elves there are strange, but not Imladris.* Despite his reasoning doubt 
still lingered in his mind, and the guard made for the door. *Perhaps it 
would be best to find and retrieve the sons of Elrond.*
      Erestor narrowed his eyes at the border guard and followed him 
out of the room. “You know something,” he said accusingly, grabbing him 
by the forearm and whirling him around. “Tell me what you know of 
Elladan and Elrohir, or else you will answer to Lord Elrond.”
      Bowing slightly the border guard replied, “Pray do not ask me now 
Lord Erestor, for it is too soon to express my ungrounded doubts. Do not 
fear for the twins. I will ride after them and confirm my suspicions but 
please do not question me deeper, and for the love of the stars above, do 
not breathe a word to Lord Elrond. But,” he added, nearly as an after 
thought, “I am sure it is nothing.”
      Pursing his lips the advisor nodded. “Be quick.”
      
      In the concealing branches of a tree a lithe figure leapt from limb 
to limb, starting in surprise at the two new additions to the Misty 
Mountains that this evening had brought. For the briefest of moments his 
bow string stretched taunt, not hesitating a heart beat when notching an 
arrow and taking aim. Then he caught sight of their eyes, filled with 
merriment and love as they stumbled off the path, and his heart flew to his 
throat as he lowered his weapon.
      There was hardly a rustle in the leaves of the tree as the figure 
sprang off into the distance lightly weeping inwardly for the sight of the 
young lovers awakened a twinge in his broken heart.
      
      “Ai! Brother, you will be the end of me,” Elladan laughed, rolling 
off of Elrohir onto his back, closing his eyes and reveling in the softness 
of the grass between two large boulders. “No,” he laughed again when 
Elrohir grasped him about the waist. Picking up a discarded tunic Elladan 
threw it into his twin’s face. “Dress…dress now or we shall never…” he 
paused and a shadow crossed his face. “We must do what we have come 
to do.”
      Looking grave and a little sad, Elrohir said softly, “You do not 
think we are far enough into the mountains?”
      “Elrohir, we are only a few steps off the path!”
      “But you would not let me go any further!” Elrohir poked his 
brother pulling on his tunic as he was bid. Sitting up he let out a long, 
shrill whistle that carried on the wind, a call for the twin mares Pelro and 
Celro whom had wandered off to graze and possibly take a leisurely roll.
      Two sets of keen elf also ears picked up the call.
      *Yes that is them,* the border guard thought to himself and urged 
his horse forward at a faster pace.
      *Are those the two from earlier?* Thought the slender elf that still 
perched in the branches of the trees that clustered in the peaks of the Misty 
Mountains and lined the Mountain Pass. To satisfy his curiosity he started 
to meander through the branches back the way he came, wondering at why 
in the name of the stars that the sons of Elrond were out in the wilderness, 
without their clothes…
      “There they are,” Elladan smiled as the black mares came trotting 
back, each going to her respective elf and blowing in their face. “Are you 
ready to go again, girl?” he stroked the soft muzzle affectionately before 
springing to her back. “You will know what to do with your selves, love, 
when we are gone.”
      Looking pensive once again, Elrohir placed one hand gently on his 
brother’s arm. “Not too far now. Come, we must go.” Beside him Elrohir 
could feel Elladan taking careful note of the world around him, every bird 
song, every breath of air that drew his hair away from his face as if Nature 
herself took delight in running her hands through the dark silky length. 
*He will miss Middle Earth more than I; he chooses to give up so 
much…*
      “Elladan,”
      Opening his eyes from smelling the clean wind Elladan turned to 
his brother. “Yes?”
      *I love you.*
      Elladan smiled. *I know. And I love you as well.*
      “Do you regret –“
      “No!” Elladan’s reply was vehement. “Not for a heartbeat, even 
though we go to our doom.” Elladan paused, reaching out and stroking his 
brother’s face with his fingertips. In that gentle touch, the feeling of the 
supple warm skin in his hand, Elladan for got that this was why they were 
fleeing, why they would never be accepted by even their father. Gazing 
into each other’s eyes they were lost in a trance where only the other 
existed, where love knew no right or wrong, and a world in which they 
were free.
      “Sons of Elrond!”
      Elrohir nearly fell from his seat at the call that echoed from the 
boulders around them, preceding the sounds of hoof beats as the twins 
were jerked rudely back into authenticity. *Elladan, what shall we do? 
They shall find us!*
      *Stand firm, brother. Patience; our fate comes though perchance 
not by our hand.* “Hail! You are the border guard from Imladris, are you 
not?” Lifting his chin and raising his voice Elladan called out as a figure 
came into view, “May I inquire as to what business you have so far from 
the borders of the valley, alone, and clearly in great haste?”
      The guard drew his winded mount up a few paces from where the 
twins sat side by side in the lushness of nature. “I seek the two of you,” he 
replied, eyes searching their faces carefully. “Your father is troubled by 
your absence; I search for an answer to the question: why did you not 
depart for the Havens as it was originally thought?”
      A slight nod from his brother and Elrohir said quietly, “From your 
eyes I think you already know the answer to that question.”
      With a sigh the other admitted, “Yes. I see you together I find my 
suspicions were confirmed and there is no need for me to ask aloud.” The 
guard drew his sword and his face looked grieved as he slid off his horse. 
“I am truly sorry sons of Elrond for the grief it shall cause your family, but 
it must be as law of the Valar states.”
      “I find it strange that you feel you must slay us yet there is no 
repugnance in your words,” Elladan murmured.
      “I find your act more than distasteful; I find my duty more than 
distasteful, but I have come to know and respect you, sons of Elrond, and 
what grieves me most is the reaction your father will have when he finds 
out.” With a shake of his head and a furrowing of his brow the elf 
demanded, thinking of his own son, “Did the two of you think of any but 
yourselves when you…”
      “No, Elladan,” Elrohir said quickly as his brother put one hand to 
his own hilt. “For we knew what fate would befall us if we were found 
out.” Turning to the guard he asked quietly, “May I make a bargain with 
you?”
      
      Elrond felt his stomach twist itself into a painful knot that made it 
hard to breathe. Drawing himself up behind the desk he pursed his lips 
into a thin line. “You are mistaken,” his words were a merge of a demand 
and a plea toward the guard that stood before him. “Surely…Elladan and 
Elrohir were warriors that ran with the Rangers; they are not so foolish as 
to be caught unaware by the Wolves.”
      The guard bowed his head humbly. “My lord, I heard myself from 
witnesses from the Shire.”
      Elrond shrugged off Erestor’s hand from his shoulder. “Where are 
their bodies?” he demanded, swallowing hard.
      “There…were none.”
      The elf lord went white in sorrow and fury in helplessness. “Leave 
me. Both of you. Please.”
      Wordlessly Erestor followed the guard from the room where 
Elrond sat with his face in his hands. “Your suspicions were confirmed?” 
he said softly when they had shut the door.
      “I…yes. I had heard a rumor.” The guard said inaudibly, ducking 
his head to avoid Erestor’s eyes. Elrohir’s voice rang in his thoughts: “I 
will not standby and watch as my brother is killed, nor will I let myself be 
killed while he watches. I swear on my honor that we will have the deed 
done but it will not be done by your hand. You may tell Adar the truth or 
you may not; that is for you to decide. This way you will not have a kin 
slaying on your head; justifiable or not a kin slaying is a kin slaying.”
      Grief and disbelief raged war against each other in the heart of the 
elf lord that sat mutely in the confines of his study. *Something is not 
right,* Elrond said to himself through his misery. *There is something in 
his eyes that lies to me…but perhaps it is only through my mourning that I 
refuse to accept the truth. Nevertheless I will send word to the Shire. I 
want tangible evidence for myself and revenge for the death of my sons 
even if I must seek it myself.*
      
      The sun was burning red, low over the mountains as she sent the 
last few rays over the land.
      Elrohir took in the falling shadows, the tree they stood under 
casting strange patterns and hints of the crimson tinted sky above, and he 
turned to look into Elladan’s eyes. In them he saw strength and he 
remembered what his brother gave up for him that fateful night they 
joined. *I will miss this, the stars at night and the cool afternoon breeze, 
but I would miss you more, Elladan.*
      There was a rasp of metal on metal that hung in the air, a soft 
musical note of impending death as Elladan drew his long hunting knife. 
He watched as his brother did the same with his own, dying sunlight 
glancing off of their matching knives with deep polished wood handles 
inlaid with ancient runes. Running one finger over the swirls that promised 
strength in battle and cunning in the hunt, he smiled to himself in 
remembrance at bringing down his first kill with this blade. This would 
now be his last.
      Pelro and Celro whinnied, sensing the distress but Elrohir turned. 
“Go, go home to peace.” He stroked Pelro’s nose, kissed it lightly, and 
murmured gentle but firm instructions before the two mares wandered off 
slowly from the group of trees to the mountain path. Elrohir felt Elladan’s 
hand slip into his own. *Are you ready?*
      *I am.*
      Tightening his grip on the handle Elrohir steeled himself, 
clenching his eyes shut.
      Suddenly there was a twang and a hiss, and a thump in the ground 
reverberated up through both their legs. Opening their eyes the twins took 
in a green feathered arrow that had embedded itself in the ground exactly 
in between them, end still quivering slightly from its flight.
      “If you would like,” called a voice from the shadows. “I could 
spare you the trouble of slitting your throats yourselves.”
      Beside him Elrohir felt Elladan shudder in annoyance as they both 
looked around for the speaker, which seemed to be not very far, but high 
off the ground. “Show yourself!”
      “If that be your will.”
      There was not even a tremble in the leaves to betray his coming as 
a lithe elf soundlessly dropped out of the branches, rising slowly from his 
crouched landing on the ground but not breaking eye contact with the 
twins that stood before him.
      “Legolas,” Elladan said slowly, recognizing him from their 
journeys together from scarcely a year ago.
      The golden haired elf smiled, adjusting the quiver slung across his 
back and cocking his head to one side. “Yes, Elladan. Me. And so I see the 
two of you are bound?” He was smiling in a way that neither of the two 
elves could understand; sadness, amusement perhaps, and maybe 
understanding?
      “And would you slay us as that border guard would?” Elrohir 
returned sharply, fist tightening around the handle of his icy blade.
      With another mysterious smile the elf informed them, “Not without 
your permission, and I would tell you before I killed you.” Turning on his 
heel the Legolas added, “Come with me sons of Elrond. There is someone 
I want you to meet.”
      Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances, resheathing the slender 
weapons. *We have nothing to lose, and in our quests I have come to 
respect this strange Mirkwood elf. Why not follow him?* Elladan thought 
to Elrohir, as Legolas sprang lightly from the ground to a branch high 
above their heads and disappeared into the upper branches, not a hint of 
movement in his wake.
      Following proved slightly clumsy and slow for the two Noldor 
elves followed through the tree limbs, forgetting their mission in their 
curiosity. Something about the gleam in Legolas’ blue eyes bid them that 
death could wait, and that there were more important things at work now.
      
      Pelro and Celro had matched reluctant paces back toward Imladris. 
The two horses were as the two brothers; twins, thinking alike and keenly 
aware of the emotions of the elves they had grown up under. Pelro touched 
her nose to Celro, who whickered. Despite their firm instructions to head 
back home, the two black mares turned and began to make their way East, 
tracing back over the footsteps of their two elves, sensing an impending 
need.
      
      Erestor watched Elrond lick his lips before biting the bottom one in 
a mixture of anger, relief, and renewed anxiety.
      “Word has just come from the Shire,” Elrond lowered the 
parchment, “That the White Wolves have not been on the hunt since the 
winter. I do not know what this means Erestor, but all I wish to know now 
are: where are my sons?” 
      There was no tremble in his voice but Erestor knew his friend well 
enough to see the emotional upset the other was in; Elrond had still not 
gotten over loosing Arwen to mortality and was not ready to give up his 
sons quite yet. 
      
      Elladan and Elrohir were not used to moving quickly through the 
trees and were relieved when the elf in front of them came to a stop after 
several minutes of treetop travel. 
      There was a small clearing in which the center stood a great oak 
tree with two vast talans set in its sturdy branches, with one long silver 
green rope running from the tree the three elves perched in to the lower 
most talan. A  grey gelding meandered in and out of the vegetation below, 
preferring the expanse of green grass but not want to stray so far from his 
master. 
      Legolas gestured for the two to follow and ran lightly across the 
expanse of rope. “Seregiell,” Legolas called softly, stepping onto the talan.
      Slightly winded, Elladan exchanged glances with his brother as 
they caught up, leaning against the main trunk of the tree to catch their 
breath before skittering across the rope and leaping onto the platform. 
*Seregiell? A wife perhaps? Legolas is bound, but why are they not back 
in Mirkwood?*
      “Ada!” cried a young voice from the upper talan. A tiny, golden 
haired figure slid down a dangling rope ladder, her sure movements 
bringing her flying into her Adar’s arms. Catching sight of Elladan and 
Elrohir over Legolas’ shoulder, her blue eyes widened. Turning back to 
her Adar she said in a whisper, “Who are they, Ada?”
      Legolas smiled, putting her down on the floor where she barely 
came past his knee. Squatting down to her level he said, “These are they 
sons of Elrond, Seregiell, Elladan and Elrohir. Go on. Greet them as I have 
taught you.”
      Obediently the elf child bowed, but did not raise her shy face to the 
two.
      Elrohir stepped forward, grinning as he kneeled and gently tilting 
her chin up with one hand to look her in the eye as he returned her 
greeting. “Your poise betrays your years, young one.” He looked past 
Seregiell to Legolas, who was watching the two of them with what could 
only be immense paternal pride. “She is your daughter?” Elrohir said 
quietly.
      “Yes. She is my daughter.” Legolas murmured, and from the look 
in his eye Elrohir did not dare ask more when the child was present.
      Stiffly Elladan fell to one knee by his brother’s side. “How old are 
you, Seregiell?”
      “Nine months,” she replied in a small but clear voice.
      “She grows and learns faster that others her age,” Legolas said, 
eyes shining. “I do not fear to leave her for short amounts of time for she 
is able to attend to herself.”
      The elf child wriggled away from Elrohir’s touch, hiding her face 
in Legolas’ knee before he bent down and hoisted her up to his hip. “I said 
we would eat once I arrived back did I not?” he tapped the tip of her nose 
with is finger and she giggled.
      After a small evening meal Seregiell disappeared over the edge of 
the talan, alighting to the ground and winding off through the trees 
curiously. “I will not wander far Ada,” she called to Legolas, who nodded 
and watched his daughter scrupulously inspect the ground gathering up 
one leaf, then another, and rejecting the first only to bend down to 
continue her search.
      Now alone with Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas leaned against the 
trunk that ran through the center of the large talan. He surveyed them 
solemnly and licked his lips before saying quietly, “If you wish to finish 
what you started this afternoon, would it be too much to ask to leave the 
general vicinity? I do not wish to expose my daughter to such things as of 
yet. But…”
      Elrohir narrowed his eyes at the elf that sat across from him, 
partially hidden in the shadows of evening. *Why does he not meet us 
with hostility? The king of Mirkwood is not known for his 
tolerance…why should his son be any different?* 
      “What is it that you do not speak of?”
      “May I be bold?”
      “Please do so,” Elladan said sincerely, tempering his brother’s 
suspicious tone and placed one hand on Elrohir’s thigh, silently bidding 
him to hold his tongue.
      The mask that was held over his piercing blue eyes was let down, 
and leaning forward Legolas said earnestly, “You have each other. You 
are in love. Do not let the constraints of others keep you from a life of 
happiness!”
      Shaking off his brother’s hand and standing Elrohir snapped, “And 
what, Prince of Mirkwood…do you think we seek your counsel? Or would 
you have us live a nomadic existence, wandering and running constantly 
from those who seek to destroy us? That would not be happiness!”
      “Who exactly seeks to do so? Lord Elrond?”
      “I -” Elrohir started to yell.
      *Hush brother!* Tugging at the hem of his brother’s tunic Elladan 
bid him to sit. “We do not know if he knows. We had not thought past this 
evening, and we had both thought we would be dead by now. The 
honorable thing, Legolas, would have been to be dead by now to spare 
Adar the shame…”
      A light sprang up in Legolas’ bright eyes. “What shame, Elladan? 
What shame is there to love and be loved?”
      “What do you know?” Elrohir demanded. “You who are bound and 
have a princess of Mirkwood!”
      Turning Legolas’ eyes snapped fire. “I know.” He said in a low 
voice with a hint of anger. “And I am no longer of Mirkwood; I have left 
that and many other things behind me. Do not speak to me of what you do 
not know, of pain and shunning, Elrohir son of Elrond, for you have the 
one you love beside you.”
      *Hush brother!*
      Fighting for control Elrohir drew a deep breath. “I am sorry. I am 
sorry for your pain.”
      “I too am sorry for many things.” Legolas looked calm again and 
he leaned back against the solid trunk. “Please do not be so hasty to take 
your lives. At least wait till morning to give it some thought.”
      Feeling a slight pull of hope at his heart Elladan asked with reason, 
“And what would we do, Legolas? Do you not find shame in how we are 
bound, brother to brother?”
      “You would be welcome to come with me,” the elf replied. “I am 
trying to take Seregiell safely to the Glittering Caves of which Gimli-elf 
friend is now lord; your swords and strength would be welcome. And no, I 
find no shame for love - any love - is too precious to be forbidden. I have 
been waiting until Seregiell is strong and fast enough to travel in haste, 
should the need arise. She is strong enough now.”
      Still suspicious Elrohir eyed his new companion. “Why do you 
seek refuge?”
      Legolas licked his lips and settled deeper into the shadow, where 
they could not see his face. “I was banished, and am now being pursued 
by…those who would wish ill of me and my daughter,” he said simply. 
      “May I ask: who is Seregiell’s mother?” Elladan said gently, but 
Legolas shook his head as a small pair of hands gripped the edge of the 
talan, followed by a golden crown then the rest of the tiny elf child as she 
bounced up over the side.
      “Look Ada,” she said, skipping over to Legolas’ lap, settling into 
the nest of Legolas’ long legs as she bent her head in toward her Adar. 
“This leaf is green at the top, but it fades to gold at the edges. The trees 
have said to me that soon all the leaves will turn red and gold as snow 
approaches. What will snow be like?”
      “Yes my Seregiell, that is true.” Legolas gathered the elven child 
up in his arms and made his way deeper into the shadows. “Snow is 
white…” his voice faded into the darkness.
      Elladan looked at Elrohir who shrugged. Neither of them had seen 
many elven children and such matters were foreign to them, as were the 
woodland elves whom shared a close bond with the trees of the forests 
they lived in.
      The moon had risen high in the night sky, illuminating a dim path 
for Elrohir as he crept down the ladder to the lower talan. In the nocturnal 
light he could see Seregiell tiny form clinging across her Adar’s chest, and 
at the sight of Legolas lying spread eagle in a heap of blankets the elf had 
to smile. Springing from the edge of the platform and landing with a light 
thud on the forest floor, Elrohir slipped out of the shelter of the wood and 
climbed atop a boulder that sat along the edge of the path. Sighing the elf 
tilted is head back to raise his eyes to Eärendil and he thought of Elrond, 
his Adar, and of how the stars of the night always glowed brightest on 
Imladris; here they seemed mere pinpricks in comparison.
      “What do you ponder on, my brother?” Breathed a warm voice in 
his ear, and Elrohir jumped slightly in surprise and let out a soft laugh as 
Elladan’s long arms slipped around his shoulders from behind.
      “I merely never thought we would see another night sky like this 
when we left Imladris. Is it not dazzling?” Elrohir sighed, feeling Elladan 
brush his hair aside to snuggle his face into his neck. “But, do you think 
we should finish what we had started this afternoon?”
      At this Elladan grew serious, stopping his exploration and 
propping his chin on his brother’s shoulder. “I can tell you want to go with 
Legolas and Seregiell; it is written in your face and your soul.”
      “I am fond Seregiell already. And something about Legolas makes 
me think that he shall need our aid, and he does not shun us and I want to 
know why. I want to know his tale of why he is not of Mirkwood, and how 
he came to be here, and where his wife is and –“
      “So very curious,” Elladan cut him off with a kiss. “It has 
something to do with his daughter most definitely; he carries something in 
him that he will not say. I wonder if it happened during the Fellowship? 
Perhaps his wife was killed while he was gone and now he must look after 
his daughter?”
      Elrohir was shaking his head. “I could not even begin to guess. But 
we shall go with them whenever they choose to depart. Perhaps we shall 
even delve into their past.”
      
      Glorfindel urged Asfaloth faster over the open plains and the horse 
willingly complied, the pair of them loving the freedom of the open 
grasslands and the foreboding challenge of the Misty Mountains not far 
ahead. The golden elf lord had been eager to search for any tidings of the 
missing twins; he knew of Elrond’s sorrow and as he knew Elladan and 
Elrohir well and it was not like them to take off from Imladris without 
word to any. *Perhaps the people of Mirkwood will have tidings, or else 
Lorien or Minas Tirith,* he thought. *But Mirkwood shall be my first stop 
for something in my heart bids me there.*
      Asfaloth was swift and tireless, crossing through the Misty 
Mountains with ease matched by few other elven horses.
      Were it not for the urgency of his mission Glorfindel would have 
taken greater pleasure in the beauty of the mighty woods he was entering. 
*Is indeed still the greatest of the forests of Middle Earth,* the elf thought 
to him self. *Even after the fire and destruction the War brought. 
Hopefully,* he thought with a shudder, *there will be fewer spiders 
lurking about.*
      For a while there was little except for the dull clip of Asfaloth’s 
hooves on the dead leaves of the forest floor but as he rode deeper into the 
forest, the golden elf lord became aware of the sounds of soft voices 
holding a conference. *Elven voices,* Glorfindel said to himself, cocking 
one ear toward the noise. He broke through to a clearing in the trees, and 
indeed a head of him was a group of Mirkwood elves standing in a ring, 
heads bent inward. “Hail, Woodland kin,” Glorfindel raised his hand in 
greeting when a few members turned at the sound of Asfaloth’s snort.
      A proud looking golden haired elf bearing a quiver and bow on his 
back sitting astride a chestnut bay came forward, returning the Elda’s 
greeting. “Hail; I am Enreilan, son of Thranduil and captain of these 
scouts. What, pray, is an elf of Imladris doing inside the borders of 
Mirkwood?” 
      “I am in search of the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. I was 
optimistic that Mirkwood would bear some tidings of their whereabouts?”
      The elves were shaking their heads. “We have been searching all 
the woods east of here and can safely say that there are no elves in the 
wood from here to the eastern borders. We will continue on across the 
Misty Mountains; have you not just come from there?”
      “I have.”
      “Have you seen word or news of my brother Legolas, golden 
haired-“
      “Yes, I know of whom you speak,” Glorfindel interrupted them, a 
shadow flickering across his face. “You seek him for justice for an 
indecent bonding?”
      “That we do,” Enreilan nodded, frowning.
      *The King of Mirkwood sent Legolas’ own brother after him to do 
him justice?* With a slight twitch of his mouth Glorfindel replied, “I rode 
through the Mountains in great haste, taking no time to stop and look for 
anything or anyone out of commonplace. If you would not mind, I will 
ride with you back through the Misty Mountains and look for your 
Legolas and Elladan and Elrohir.”
      
      Even before Elladan had opened his eyes he heard the whine.
      “Ai, Ada,”
      It was the soft but shrill cry of a female elven child.
      “It hurts! I will not brush it!”
      There was a sigh of a bemused parent that had not gone 
unforgotten from Elladan’s own childhood memories.
      “Seregiell, you cannot leave it as such; it looks like a bird’s nest! 
Come and I will brush it for you. You do not want-“
      In the tone that only an impudent child could muster, Seregiell 
replied, “It looks like your hair!”
      Opening his eyes Elladan saw Legolas rock back on his heels in 
front his tiny daughter, clearly frustrated. To his great surprise Elrohir, 
who had been lying beside him, rose and went over to the elven child who 
sat in the middle of a pile of blankets. Amazed, Elladan watched his 
brother speaking softly as he took a seat behind her in her nest, distracting 
her from the task at hand as he gently unwound the knots with his fingers, 
and proceeded to braid the wash of golden hair that fell just past the 
child’s shoulders.
      Beside the two Legolas impatiently unbraided his own slept on 
braids, ran a comb through the length and had rebraided the mass, 
finishing just as Elrohir had tied off the last end in his daughter’s hair.
      “See?” Elrohir gestured to Legolas. “Your hair is as beautiful as 
your Adar’s when it is cared for properly.” He smiled and ran his fingers 
through the child’s baby soft locks shimmering bright gold in the early 
shafts of the pale morning sunlight that filtered down onto the talan.
      Feeling the other’s touch Seregiell ran over to her father and buried 
her face in the soft grey leggings before saying in a muffled voice, “Thank 
you.”
      *You surprise me brother,* Elladan said as he slipped to Elrohir’s 
side and took his hand in his own, gave it a squeeze, and turned him 
around to undo the now lax and messy braids of his brother’s dark hair.
      Elrohir smiled and accepted the fruit and bread that Legolas 
extended to him, reveling in the feel of Elladan’s fingers teasing over his 
scalp. *I like the child; she reminds me a little of Arwen when she was in 
her youth, and though it is a distant memory now, it is one I treasure. 
Seregiell is much shyer and fairer, but I expect that she will be much the 
same as our sister.*
      Aloud Elladan said to Legolas, “So when were you and Seregiell 
planning on traveling to the Glittering Caves?” Both blond elves gave him 
a startled glance, and in an instant Elladan realized that Seregiell had had 
no indication from her Adar of their departure.
      Running over to her Adar and clinging around one leg the elf child 
looked up, curling tiny fingers into the supple material and said softly, 
“Ada, we are leaving? We are leaving the trees?”
      *This was not how I planed it,* Legolas said to himself. “Yes, my 
little one. Does it grieve you?”
      The child’s tiny rosebud mouth twitched slightly. “A little.”
      Hosting the tiny frame on one hip Legolas said brightly, “Would 
you like to see the Glittering Caves? With the dwarves?”
      The mouth twitched momentarily as the child contemplated this 
option. “I suppose.” She furrowed her brow. “Are there trees there?” 
When her Adar shook his head she immediately replied, burrowing her 
face into her Adar’s shoulder, “I do not want to go away from the trees.” 
      “What if,” Elrohir began smoothly, trying to reason with the child, 
“We take an acorn, and a beech seed, and the like and we bring trees to the 
dwarves.”
      In a voice muffled by Legolas’ green tunic, Seregiell asked, “The 
dwarves like trees?”
      “I think they will like any gift we see fit to bring them, as friends,” 
Legolas said. “Go and gather some seeds to bring to the dwarves, and you 
can tell them of the trees that begot them.” At this he set her down and the 
small elf disappeared from the platform, dropping to the ground as a bird 
alights from the trees and was dashing along the forest floor.
      Elladan watched her go. “Is she always so lively?”
      Legolas smiled. “Yes. She is much like myself when I was young, 
or so it is thought; always up trees or off riding. She is sometimes on 
Mithlilen, my gelding.” The elf turned and ascended quickly up the silky 
ladder to the second upper talan, gathering a few objects and bundling 
them into a pack. Taking up some of the light blankets used for sleeping 
he folded them neatly, and going to the trunk of the tree opened the small 
storage space behind the bark and stowed them away. “I am glad that you 
have decided to come.”
      Elrohir, who had followed Legolas and Elladan, was standing 
behind his brother with one hand on Elladan’s waist. “When shall we 
depart?”
      “The longer we linger here the more necessary it becomes for us to 
leave. As soon as Seregiell returns, we shall depart, if that is agreeable to 
you.”
      “Legolas,” Elladan stepped forward and placed one hand on the 
elf’s shoulder. “Will you not tell us what this is all about? Why are you 
not in Mirkwood? Where is your wife? Who is it that you flee from? And 
why do you not hate and shun or try to slay us as all elves would, or are 
you strange Mirkwood elves more open minded when it comes to beings 
different from dwarves?”
      For the briefest of moments Legolas wished to break the emotional 
dam in his heart and pour his sorrow into the willing ears of the dark 
haired twins. He gnawed at his lips, knitting his eye brows and neatly side 
stepped the question, partially for fear of their judgment. “I have already 
told you I do not find you bond distasteful as I find love precious and 
beautiful in all beings.” He then gave a short laugh. “And, no. Mirkwood 
elves are not ‘more open minded.’ At any rate, I enjoy your 
companionship…but I suppose as you are about to join us on this 
endeavor you do have a right to know.”
	Leaning against the trunk of the tree and casually crossing one leg 
over the other the elf’s eyes grew slightly guarded. “My ‘wife’ does not 
exist. I never bonded with her.” Legolas pressed his lips together slowly. 
“I was banished from Mirkwood when it became known I was with 
child…when it became obvious, a while after I arrived home after the War 
of the One Ring was over. Having nowhere else to go and traveling being 
very difficult…well, I was able to extend my journey as far as this haven. 
There is a party sent out from Mirkwood not long ago to find and 
annihilate Seregiell and me.”
      The twins traded amazed glances. “You went the entire length as 
part of the Fellowship with child?”
      Legolas nodded slowly. “I was pregnant long before I left, and I 
knew but…” he shrugged.
      Elladan was shaking his head in amazement. “Who-“
      “No,” Legolas said sharply. “I shall reveal that to no one. I do not 
think any knows, but it has been a long time since I have heard from 
Mirkwood.”
      Rolling his eyes Elrohir stepped closer to his brother with a rueful 
grin, “Then you do not heed the command of the Valar either!”
      Legolas gave the weakest of smiles and disappeared down to the 
lower level, intent on returning to the task at hand as he surveyed the talan 
with satisfaction. *In a few days it shall look like no one has been here for 
months.*
      
      The thundering of horses’ hooves was all that could be heard as the 
procession of Mirkwood elves plus one Elda from Imladris cantered on 
under the bright afternoon sun. The terrain was slowly changing from 
woody and flat to hilly, the carpet of dead leaves giving way to greener 
hills as they neared the Misty Mountains.
      “We should reach a rest point by midnight; it is deep within the 
woods of the Misty Mountains someway off the path and there we can 
find food and rest if we wish to cease our hunt.”
      Glorfindel nodded to the captain he spoke to, riding at the very 
front of the group. Even the Elda, who did not tire readily, was looking 
forward to a brief reprieve from the constant rocking of horse beneath him 
in which he could put his legs to some use.
      
      “Seregiell!” Legolas called, perched on the edge of the talan, long 
legs swinging over the side.
      The elf child was not in sight.
      The golden haired elf shrugged, and taking up two of the bundles 
slid off the edge to the ground far below.
      One bundle Legolas buried at the base of the tree careful to scatter 
leaves over the disrupted ground so that it hardly looked any different 
from the rest of the forest floor. The other very small bundle fit neatly into 
his quiver, and after re-strapping it to his back he shaded his eyes with one 
hand and peered through the trees. “Seregiell!”
      Joining his companion on the ground Elrohir said in a slightly 
anxious voice, “Is she alright? Should we go look for her?”
      With a pause and a mild scowl Legolas shook his head. “No…I did 
not think it would take her this long to find seeds from her trees though.”
      Then came the sound of a child’s delighted giggle, and all three 
elven heads snapped in the direction it came from.
      “Seregiell?” Elrohir called, and was answered by another giggle 
and a horse’s whicker of greeting. Confused, the dark haired elf raised his 
eyebrows at the familiar sound. “Pelro?”
      Into the clearing strode the two familiar black mares with tiny 
Seregiell astride Pelro’s back. “I have the seeds of the trees,” she called to 
Legolas, and, sliding off the mare’s back, ran to her Adar to show him the 
fist full of potential trees she had gleaned.
      Amazed, Elladan and Elrohir leapt from the talan and made their 
way to the disobedient mares that had found their way to their elves.
      *I thought I told you to go for Imladris, animal,* Elrohir half 
chided, though he was relieved and curious at the animal’s reappearance in 
the woods of the Misty Mountains. He pulled his chin back quickly as the 
mare nosed at his face, snuffing affectionately. *Yes, you knew you would 
be needed.*
      “And now,” Elladan said from beside him with one hand on 
Celro’s nose, “We do not have to walk.”
      Seregiell took great delight in riding this new horse, even 
consented to riding Pelro with Elrohir sitting behind her, his hands holding 
the tiny child carefully in place. 
      Elladan rode beside them astride Celro, and Legolas rode ahead on 
Mithlilein, the foursome of elves departing north just as the sun sank 
slowly in the west.
      
      The sun had set, the peppering of stars across the sky providing 
light for the procession that rode on through the narrow mountain path. 
The leader of the group, Enreilan, suddenly veered to the right off the 
path, leading them through a grouping of rocks so close together that the 
elves slowed their mounts to a walk to squeeze through single file.
      The rocks and boulders gave way to a wood of trees growing 
precariously balanced on the mountainside, and coming to a clearing the 
wood elves came to a stop.
      Looking up Glorfindel saw a large oak tree with two talans.
      “This is our rest point; we do not have many outside of Mirkwood, 
but this is one,” Enreilan said in a brief explanation to Glorfindel. Then he 
jumped, caught the edge of the talan with his hands and setting up with a 
light swing of his legs pulled himself easily onto the platform and out of 
sight. There was a soft shuffle and a silvery green rope ladder came 
tumbling out of the darkness.
      The convoy of elves ascended up the ladder, and Glorfindel was 
astonished and pleased at the comfort of this woodland refuge; it reminded 
him much of Lorien. The elves had hidden blankets and provisions in the 
safekeeping of the trunk of the tree which were distributed, and watches 
were assigned as the rest of the group settled down for a night’s needed 
rest.
      In an attempt to sleep, Enreilan rolled over to his back, feeling very 
satisfied. *Legolas has been here in recent times; I can feel it. The talan 
hideout is here, just as the journal said.* The elf smiled to himself into the 
darkness; they were on the right track. *I can even feel some of the magic, 
lingering in the air…*
      
      The sound of birdsong and the touch of the rising sun on his 
eyelids made Glorfindel stir. Turning over on one side he yawned, sat up 
slowly, and took in the morning activities of the wood elves around him. 
There was one small lantern lit, dangling just above their heads, the little 
light it gave off quickly becoming unnecessary as daylight grew stronger. 
Standing, Glorfindel took it down and blew it out. Turing to Enreilan, 
whom had just awoken a few paces behind him, he asked what should be 
done with it.
      The elf climbed to his feet, stretched his agile limbs, then motioned 
for Glorfindel to follow, leading the Elda to the upper talan and squatting 
at the base of the tree. “In here on top of the blankets should be fine,” he 
said, opening the latch of the small storage space. A glint of sunlight 
spreading across the topmost blanket caught his eye, and the captain 
picked up the object, scrutinizing it carefully. “Odd,” he commented 
casually to the Elda that was standing patiently behind him, lamp still in 
hand. Enreilan held up his finger and thumb from which dangled a few 
long, dark strands of hair. “I though all Mirkwood elves were light 
haired.”
      Glorfindel raised his eyebrows in recognition. *Elladan and Elrohir 
have been here…*
      Then Enreilan took note of other hair on the blanket as well; the 
short strands of fine, soft golden hair. *The child has been here as well. It 
is Legolas, and we are getting very close. Very, very close, my brother.*
      
      The wind danced about the procession of the four elves as they 
passed through the mountains, dark and golden hair blowing in the wake 
of her skirts, all four elves closing their eyes and drinking in the delicious 
scents of nature.
      *I will miss this, my brother, the feelings that my body allows my 
Feä to receive,*
      *Yes, I will miss that too Elladan.* Elrohir smiled to himself, 
stretching slightly back in his seat.
      In front of him, Seregiell craned her neck around and up to look 
curiously at Elrohir, her blue eyes were wide and innocent. “What are you 
saying?”
      The dark haired elf looked down in surprise. “You can feel that?”
      “You speak like the trees. It is easy to feel.”
      *We will have to mind our minds for a while brother,*
      “You are doing it again!”
      In front of them Legolas turned slightly. “Seregiell, would you 
come and ride with me?”
      “I want to know what they are saying!”
      “It does not concern you, love. Would you come and sing to me 
while we ride?”
      Feeling the tiny body in front of him hesitate Elrohir encouraged, 
“I would like to hear a song from you as well,”
      The elf child obliged reluctantly as Pelro’s quickened pace brought 
her abreast of Mithlilien and she was duly transferred, though her little 
face was painted with inquisitiveness. “I want to know what they are 
saying, Ada,” she complained, but nevertheless obliged to her father’s 
request.
      Her young voice carried clearly on the breeze with the bird song, 
mingling into the distance to the pleasure of all that could hear.
      
      Enreilan leaned into a slightly chill puff of air, straining his 
ears…yes, there it came again; a child’s song – the child’s song. “Come!” 
he called to the elves and horses riding behind them. “It is them, I am sure, 
and we are gaining on them!”
      
      The path was growing precariously evasive and narrow as it gave 
way from well traveled, well packed dirt to slippery expanses of pebbles 
that shifted constantly under foot. The elves checked their horses to a slow 
walk, letting the animals feel their way through the steep pass, sending 
showers of sand and rock skittering back down the way they had come.
      Legolas could feel his frustration growing as the going became 
slower, and an anxious premonition was swelling in his chest. He kept 
turning and looking back over the way they came, the narrow path carved 
out with steep sides with only a thin portion of the hills that lay beyond 
that visible. The wind had changed, blowing up from the South and bottle 
necking through the narrow pass, and the golden haired elf was almost 
sure he could hear the beating of many hoof beats on the rolling hills to his 
back.
      Mithlilien stumbled, and he crooned to the gelding, passed 
Seregiell to Elrohir, and dismounted leading the grey horse up the path.
      Twisting around in his seat Elladan squinted into the expanse 
behind them. “There is a group of about twenty riding behind us,” he 
remarked casually though he knew of the elf’s fear.
      Eyes growing wide Legolas asked sharply, “Are they elven?”
      The twin turned and squinted into the distance again. “I believe 
so…it is hard to tell for we are many leagues off but they are approaching 
swiftly.”
      Legolas felt his heart quicken in his chest and he trusted his 
instinct. 
      “Then we must keep going forward; perhaps we will lose them in 
the rocky hills and valleys for they will have as difficult a time as us on 
horse back,” Elrohir offered, sensing the other’s alarm, and the four elves 
continued to press on.
      As the group grew nearer Legolas deftly skimmed back down past 
the three elves on horseback as he shaded his eyes with one hand. “I am 
sure it is the group from Mirkwood; there had been very little other 
movement through these parts for the last nine months…ah yes…there is 
the banner.” The elf gnawed at his lip, thinking very quickly. *We are 
backed up against this wretched pass…even if we made it over there are 
many more miles of trail like this.*.
      *Elladan, they will see in our eyes what they were told by Legolas’ 
pregnancy.*
      “Ada, what is happening?” Seregiell’s blue eyes were wide, 
sensing the budding fear that would blossom into panic accumulating in 
her Adar’s mind.
      “Shh,” Legolas crooned distractedly.
      Clearing his throat Elladan said in a measured tone, “We should 
turn and fly, Legolas; they are gaining rapidly and the going here is 
impossible.”
      *Yes, they bear the colors of Mirkwood; the colors of our doom.* 
The golden haired elf swung up onto Mithlilien’s back. “They approach 
from the South; we must get back out into the open from the way they 
came and make West.” Turning his mount around Legolas gave a soft 
click with his tongue. “Make haste! We must be faster than they are, and 
they are coming rapidly!”
      
      Glorfindel gave Asfaloth his head and the horse went flat out, 
passing to the head of the charge, rocks, trees, and the green of the grass 
all blurring into a streak. For the briefest of moments the Elda was 
reminded of the enormous sprints in to flat out battle, the clashing of two 
armies meeting, and his blood thrilled through his veins before he checked 
himself and remembered that it was fellow elves, not enemies, that they 
rode against.
      “Spread out!” Ereilan shouted. “Surround the mouth of the pass so 
they cannot escape!”
      
      Panic had evaporated, and Legolas felt calm yet the premonition 
that had been growing in his chest was now unbearably heavy. *I knew 
there would be an end someday…and here it is. I hope they will be 
merciful.* Checking over his shoulder he saw the two twins, Elrohir still 
bearing Seregiell, right behind him. Ahead, through the narrow opening of 
the pass he felt his doom grow as he saw the group of elves spread out, 
forming a semi circle and effectively cutting off their escape. 
      They had not ridden fast enough. Unless the unwisely chose to turn 
and flee up the hazardous mountain pass, through which they would surely 
be pursued, they were ensnared.
      *We are done for,* Elrohir said to his brother.
      *Yes.* Elladan’s reply was calm, and slowed to a canter. “Legolas, 
there is no need to rush into the fate that already lies ahead.”
      “Ada?” The elf child’s voice was a small peep of terror.
      “Stay with Elrohir, Seregiell. Do not fear.” 
      Mithlilien slowed to a walk, the three older elves grim with 
impending destiny, the youngest elf silent and wide eyed as she sensed her 
Adar’s dread, which frightened her.
      The four elves walked quietly out into the half moon of Mirkwood 
elves, Legolas keeping Mithlilien ahead of the two dark haired elves and 
his daughter. 
      Enreilan urged his mount forward to meet the grey gelding. 
      “Greetings, brother.” Legolas’ gaze was steady, drawing so near 
that the wind that blew around their faces mingling their golden hair until 
it was indiscernible as to where Legolas’ began and where Enreilan’s 
ended.
      Elladan and Elrohir started and stared when they saw Glorfindel’s 
golden head among those of the wood elves, and then looked away as 
realization, anger, and sadness came into the blue eyes of the elf that had 
known them their entire lives.
      Enreilan gave a harsh laugh, grating on the ears of all who heard. 
“You are no brother to me, Legolas,” the elf spat the name, raising one 
hand and gesturing.
      As Elrohir watched two woodland elves came forward and stripped 
the blond elf of his quiver and knife, and unconsciously he crushed 
Seregiell’s face to him, covering her eyes as he feared for a violent act 
toward her Adar.
      The elf child let out a whimper, drawing the attention of the rest of 
the party.
      Looking repulsed, Enreilan turned to Legolas, who still sat astride 
Mithlilien with his hands bound behind his back. “This is the child?” he 
said, words inundated with distain.
      “It is.”
      “Take her and bind her as well,”
      Seregiell cried out “Ada!” and Elrohir said sharply, drawing his 
sword, “No!”
      “Enreilan,” Legolas’ voice was traced with pleading as he fought 
to control the rage that was building inside his chest. “Your grudge lies 
with me; fault lies with me; she is an innocent in this crime.”
      Ignoring his brother Enreilan’s eyes traveled from one now defiant 
looking twin to the other, and a horrified look crossed his face even as he 
sneered. “And who are you, sons of Elrond, to tell me what to do…your 
deeds are written in you eyes as clearly as there are stars in the night; you 
are no better than this degenerate here; dare I say you are worse!”
      Two elves made for Elrohir but he backed Pelro away. “Draw 
nearer and I shall relieve your necks of your heads!”
      In a heartbeat Enreilan had an arrow set on a taunt bowstring. 
“This is in the kill zone, son of Elrond. I could let it fly and be completely 
justified.”
      Glorfindel urged his horse forward, coming between the dark and 
light haired elves. “The slaying of Elladan and Elrohir is not in your 
jurisdiction, son of Thranduil,” the Elda said. “Legolas is yours as you 
will, but I have a claim on these elves from Imladris. Their Adar does not 
know of their whereabouts, and I alone was sent to find and retrieve 
them.”
      Enreilan’s lips narrowed. “And you will find them, dead.”
      “Then you will bring the anger of the Lord of Imladris to your 
kingdom,” Glorfindel retorted, anger growing at the new found malice in 
the other elf. “You will leave Elladan and Elrohir to me.”
      *Elladan, does Adar know?*
      *I do not know…*
      The icy blue eyes of the blond elf across from him were alight with 
cold fury. “Very well then. Give me the child and be gone with your 
sinners.”
      “Seregiell is not at fault to punish,” Legolas snapped, desperate to 
keep his daughter safe in Elrohir’s hold. “To slay her would be kin 
slaying, not justice!”
      Rounding on him the fair elf shouted, “You do not have a voice in 
this matter! You are dead to all the elves present!”
      “He is right Enreilan,” Glorfindel broke in harshly, horrified at the 
change to malice in the being before him. “To slay her Adar would be 
justice but to slay his child would be a kin slaying! Step back and see what 
hunting your fellow brother has done to you!”
      “He is no brother of mine!” Enreilan took a moment to regain his 
composure. “She is the product of sin!”
      Glorfindel stood firm. “Yet she is not the sin herself.” Before the 
other could snarl a reply, the Elda and Asfaloth broke through the circle, 
heading west toward Imladris. “Come, Elladan, Elrohir. Bring Seregiell. 
Your Adar will be glad to know you are safe.”
      “Ada?” Seregiell’s voice carried on the wind as she struggled to 
disentangle herself from Elrohir’s firm grip.
      Legolas made a motion to go forward to his daughter, but at the 
furious light in Enreilan’s eyes he half feared his brother would change his 
mind if he did. “Go with them, love,” Legolas called, swallowing hard to 
keep his voice from cracking. *The Lord of Imladris is kind; he will see to 
it that she is kept safe.* 
      A rough hand squeezed the back of his neck hard in a warning, and 
the elf closed his mouth again, his eyes never leaving the little face that 
had craned around Elrohir’s side to catch a last glimpse of her Adar.
      *I love you little one; be strong…* Legolas willed as he watched 
the four figures - with Glorfindel riding pointedly between the twins - 
before they disappeared over the crest of a hill. Relief that his daughter 
would not be slain or even harmed as he feared mingled and tempered his 
grief, though he would never see her grow up and the woods of Mirkwood 
would forever be foreign to her. *Be merciful, Master Elrond,* the elf 
sighed to himself, and turned his attention back to the group of silent 
Mirkwood elves, not caring for his fate.
      
      Not a word was spoken on the journey back, save a few small 
mewing noises from Seregiell that sounded like severely repressed crying.
      Glorfindel was lost in the jumbles of his newly discovered 
information, torn with woe and wrath at the knowledge of Elladan and 
Elrohir’s bonding and what their fate must be. This mixed with disbelief 
and pity for the tiny elf child that had borne more sorrow in her few 
months than many elves experience in a century.
      The glow of Imladris had just come into view when Seregiell let 
out a soft scream and keeled over, nearly falling from Pelro had Elrohir 
not grasped the child about her tiny figure and clutched her to him in 
alarm. “What is it?”
      The elf child shook her head frantically; eyes screwed shut, body 
curling tensely into a tiny ball.
      Elrohir could feel her trembling in his grasp, her heart thudding 
against her ribcage like the wings of a trapped bird against the bars of a 
cage. “Will you tell us?” the dark haired elf tried to sooth the minuscule 
body into relaxing against him but to no avail.
      *Brother, it is Legolas…*
      Elrohir cradled the head to his chest. “Your Adar…?” he 
whispered, so quietly that Seregiell was the only one to hear.
      The tiny head nodded, very slowly. “He…gone…now.”
      
      Inside the gate, Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir dismounted as 
Elrond came out of the house, heavy robes blowing in the chilly gusts that 
swirled fallen leaves around everyone’s feet. For the briefest of moments 
Elrond’s eyes lit with joy and relief at the sight of his sons returned in 
safety, but that light was quickly replaced as he looked into the identical 
eyes of his sons. Brow furrowing, he turned quickly to Glorfindel, who 
was attempting to disentangle Seregiell from around Elrohir’s neck, but 
the elf child let out a shriek at his touch and Elrohir motioned him away.
      Seeing the disbelief in his fellow Elda’s eyes, the blond elf lord 
gave the smallest of nods, and disappeared with Asfaloth into the stable.
      Elladan cleared his throat. “That is why we left, Adar.”
      Elrond bit his lip. *You left to make a quiet end…*
       “Who is this fair child you have brought back from your 
excursion?”
      “The daughter of Legolas, formerly of Mirkwood. Seregiell.”
      Turning Elrond walked silently inside.
      *I feel we almost owe him an explanation,* Elrohir thought to 
Elladan. *I feel wretched, brother, for I never wanted him to know. And 
now he is grieved and shamed, deeply, beyond words. It would have been 
better had he known us to simply be dead.*
      *We must finish. Leave Seregiell; she will be safe here.*
      *Elladan, she has just lost her Adar…*
      “You are talking again,” Seregiell said, voice muffled in Elrohir’s 
shoulder. She wriggled slightly. “Put me down. I want to be with the 
trees.”
      Elrohir obliged, watching the little figure scamper off into the 
foliage as tears fell anew. He turned to Elladan. “Come.”
      “I am ready,” Elladan murmured.
      
      Storm clouds were threatening the quiet tranquility of the 
afternoon as Glorfindel returned from the stables to find Erestor and 
Elrond holding council. 
      “What should be done with the child?” Erestor was saying when 
the blond Elda had entered the room. “Who is her Amar?” The advisor and 
the elf lord turned to Glorfindel, who raised his hands in a helpless gesture 
and shook his head.
      “I am only certain that she is the daughter of Legolas, who I 
believe is now slain; no mention was made of an Amar on Legolas’ part. 
Elladan and Elrohir may know, as they have spent time with the woodland 
elf, but,” Glorfindel’s face flickered. “I have not spoken to them much 
since our meeting.”
      Taking note of the grey that was quickly obscuring the translucent 
sky Elrond rose with a sigh, calling over his shoulder as he exited the 
room. “Bring Elladan and Elrohir here; I have need to speak with them 
anyway. I will go for the child; she must come inside before it starts to 
pour.”
      The elf lord ambled off to the gardens with a heavy heart. He did 
not want to deal with a strange child as of now; he wanted to converse 
with his sons and be left to his own misery at their fate in the solitude of 
his chambers. Frowning, he turned in a slow circle wondering which tree 
the elf child would choose to hide in, when the most minuscule of sobs 
reached his elven ears and gave away her hiding place. At the base of a 
large oak tree Elrond peered up into the branches hopefully, but saw only 
leaves. “Seregiell?”
      All was silent, save the wind picking up speed as she prepared to 
bear raindrops on her wings.
      “Seregiell,” Elrond was beginning to wonder how he would extract 
this being from the haven she clung to. “It will rain soon; you do not 
desire to be caught in the rain, do you?”
      “Go ‘way.”
      Elrond shifted his weight to one leg. This might take awhile. 
“What would you and your Adar do when it rained?”
      “Ada is gone.”
      “What would you and your Amar do when it rained?”
      “Go away!” There was another sound of another sob.
      Shedding his heavy outer robe, the elf lord proceeded to do 
something he had not done in many millennia; he grasped the lower 
branches of the oak tree and swung his weight onto the lower boughs, 
climbing toward the still hidden elf child. Slowly, two tiny feet high above 
him came into view; Seregiell had risen to the highest part of the tree, the 
slender branches supporting her light weight and preventing the elf lord 
from joining her in her perch.
      The sky now had darkened portentously, and Elrond felt a down 
pour coming on at any moment. “Have you heard the story of your Adar’s 
journey as one of the nine walkers?”
      “No.”
      “Could I entice you into coming into the house to hear the story?”
      “I want Elrohir.”
      “He is within, waiting for you,”
      There was a pause. “I want Ada…”
      The voice was hushed and pleading, not really meant as a request 
for Elrond for the elf lord sensed that the child already understood what it 
meant when she simply said, “Ada is gone.” Empathy for this little being 
warmed his grieved heart; he too had lost both his parents at a very tender 
age but it had taken him far longer to come to acceptance, and he reached 
out silently with his soul in their shared sorrow. “I know you want your 
Ada,” Elrond said softly. “Sometimes I do as well.”
      “Where is your ada?”
      “He is gone too, since I was a little older than you.”
      With this the tiny feet moved and the rest of the fragile body 
descended quickly, passing the elf lords offer of help and alighting to the 
ground long before Elrond was able to scramble downwards.  
      Thrusting his long arms back into his discarded robe the elf 
extended a hand to the child, who shrank away. *She is not used to all 
these strange new elves,* Elrond sighed inwardly and turned to go back 
inside, check occasionally to make sure that he was being followed by this 
dainty golden shadow. “Wait here,” he gesture her inside a sitting room, 
watching Seregiell enter before he shut the door behind her.
      Now alone, Seregiell sank to the floor in front of the fire place, 
hugging her knees to her chest and determinedly unmindful of her new 
environment. 
      
      Glorfindel stood aghast at the scene which met his eyes.
      “What could possibly be taking Elrohir so-“
      Senses pushing him into action the golden haired elf turned and 
nearly collided head on with the elf lord who was coming to rouse his son. 
“Do not enter!” Glorfindel said urgently, and was met with gracious 
dismay tainted with annoyance. “Lord Elrond…”
      Any irritation vanished at the expression on his friend’s face: grief, 
disbelief, anger even. “What,” Elrond said slowly, watching a million 
emotions run through his friend’s face as his mouth worked slowly, trying 
to find words to express what he had seen.
      Glorfindel made a croaking sound, his grip tightening on the other 
Eldar’s arms.
      “It concerns my son,” Elrond said with a hint of fright. “Stand 
aside!” He hurriedly disentangled himself from Glorfindel’s grasp, and 
burst through the door with the blond elf following.
      Elrohir and Elladan lay side by side, hand in hand, clad only in 
leggings, faces slightly inclined toward the other. Blood from identical, 
self inflicted fatal neck wounds soaked the bed, seeping the sheets and 
blankets in crimson. Elrohir’s free hand lay on the bed, blood slicked 
fingers loosely encircling the handle of one of his brother’s hunting 
knives. Elladan’s arm draped off the bed, hand hovering lifelessly above 
the other knife which had clattered to the floor, spattering the cold floor as 
the drops slowly leached into white stone, never to be removed and scrub 
the room clean of the memories it held.
      Realization rushed into Elrond’s grieved mind as he slowly turned 
from the gory scene. His mind spun, his heart ached so fiercely he could 
not even weep as he leaned against the sturdy wall of the hall outside. 
*My sons,*
      Glorfindel shut the door quietly, one hand on the dark haired 
Eldar’s shoulder who stood with his face buried in his hands.
      
      *Look at how beautiful everything is, Elladan.*
      *Yes brother, I feel it…come with me, we will go over the Misty 
Mountains into Greenwood and explore the beauty there.*
      *Do you not feel restless, a houseless Fëa?*
      *No; I am free for I am with you, Elrohir. It is as before; we may 
not have our bodies but now we have our souls, for ourselves and for each 
other, and we are bonded for all time. I love you, my brother, and now we 
are not forbidden.*
      *Greetings, sons of Elrond. Is my Seregiell safe?*
      *Indeed she is…*
      ~*~
      Kneeling on the floor Elrond traced a dark splatter pattern on the 
floor with his fingertips.
      The door opened soundlessly and Seregiell’s tiny hand - only 
slightly bigger since her arrival several months ago - slipped into his free 
one. “I miss Elrohir too,” said a child’s voice, slipping into the elf lord’s 
lap. “Though I miss Ada more.”
      It had been a long time since Elrond had held a child to him. “Yes, 
young one,”
      “You will miss them even in Valiahnor?”
      Elrond did not bother to correct this mix up. “Yes. I will love and 
miss them all for one can never leave sorrow behind.” As he held this 
warm body to his chest, Elrond allowed himself to weep for his sons for 
the first time since their passing, with the elf child accepting every tear 
that fell.
      
      ~Sequel coming; Double Sin: the Sins of Legolas – in which we 
find out how Legolas and Seregiell came to the refuge of the Misty 
Mountains…any guesses as to the other half of Seregiell’s parentage?~