Post by sian22redux on Nov 12, 2023 19:40:03 GMT
Turning Point
Author: Elladan
Summary: The twins stop running from their past and start fighting for their future.
Rating: K
------------------------
What we sought was not revenge, but distance.
We snuck out like thieves in the night, and I had to make a choice. I could not leave his side for even a moment, to say goodbye to our family. I could tell with one look that he would leave, and I would never see him again.
He had promised not to send me away. He had not promised not to run from me. And I knew, I knew with such complete certainty that it frightened me, that if I hesitated - if I wavered in my resolve for a single moment - then he would be gone forever.
I dared not.
I had time enough only while he led our horses silently from their stalls, to rip a single page from my sketchbook and scrawl a single note.
We will come home.
I left it in the stall behind him as we slipped out. I could not risk him finding it. He would be angry - frightfully angry - if he knew.
That was it. That was my last chance to stay home, to change my mind. To fetch somebody, to speak to my family. To see my mother.
I do not regret leaving. I am certain, as I am certain of nothing else, that I would have lost him completely, body and soul, had I stayed behind.
And then we were gone. We crossed the bridge in the dead of mid-night, and no soul was out to stop us. He had no intention then but to run, to escape. He could not stand the weight of feeling unwanted. It was crushing him, stealing his breath away. He felt trapped in Imladris, surrounded by fake smiles on fake people. Surrounded by those who would scorn and mock him behind his back, and then offer him sickly sympathy to his face.
He believed none of it.
He would rather face an honest enemy than one who hides their intentions, only to turn on him later and cast him out.
We sought nothing but solitude in those days. We were alone for many months. Just the two of us, wanderers in the Wild. We knew of Dunedain settlements, but he avoided them with strict intensity. We avoided even the smallest of Mannish towns, for he seemed somehow convinced that if we so much as showed our faces, Elves would appear to hound us and drag us back to Rivendell.
For someone so convinced that he had been cast out, he seemed equally afraid of being hunted down and dragged back before father for judgement.
He was determined to fade into obscurity, and for a time we did.
It could not last forever. We did not go seeking out yrch, but when one spends two years in the wild, it becomes a statistical inevitability that you will eventually find them. Or, they will eventually find you.
We were in the foothills of the Ered Nimrais when we heard them. We were lucky. We were in the depths of the forest, late in the night, and surrounded by deep silence. It meant we could hear them from leagues off, long before they became aware of our presence.
We leapt up simultaneously. He threw dirt on the fire, and practically threw himself into it as well in his haste to stomp it out. I bundled any loose metals, like our cookwares, in blankets and tied them to the horses. I threw him his bow, and he fumbled it. His hands shook so badly it fell to the ground. I pretended not to notice.
There was no discussion of what we would do. It was obvious. We fled.
We led the horses until our hearts stopped racing, and then we mounted. For the first time in two long years, we did not turn away from city walls. We rode from the mountains down to the path, and followed it to the gated city we had seen on the journey up.
He led, and I did not question him.
There were no guards, and the gate was left open. We slunk into the sleeping town, and followed the warm glow of the inn. The sounds of people inside, real people, drinking, eating, singing, and cajoling, made my hands shake more than the yrch had.
It had been two years since I had been around people. I turned over my shoulder, as if to ask permission. Was this real? Were we doing this?
He watched me with dark eyes, and his anxious glance shifted to the building beyond. His grip tightened on his reins. He did not want to be here. But he wanted to be outside even less. His lips tightened and his mouth pursed, but we did not turn away.
We slept in a real bed that night.
The cold light of morning brought with it the first frosts to usher in firith. Our breath came out in clouds and the crisp air chilled our lungs. Elladan sat at the window, looking out over the small town. It could barely be called such, as small as it was. Barely a settlement, really.
“Large enough to become a target. Far too small to defend itself. They leave the gate unguarded at night.” He pointed out.
It was easy to guess what he was afraid of. “Then we leave.” I answered. “We have more than a day’s advantage, and the yrch won’t travel in the sunlight. We go further south.”
“No.”
I startled. His eyes were dark as he gazed out over the fields, and the forest beyond. “Ella?”
“Look at these people.” He scoffed. “They don’t know what’s out there. When the yrch come this way, they’ll fire the fields, burn the homes. They won’t stand a chance.” He fell silent. There were children playing in the street. I stood beside him and followed his gaze. “They’ll take the women and children alive, and kill their families. There will be nothing left.”
A small girl was running after two older boys. Her little legs could not carry her as quickly as they, and she stumbled and fell. The boys laughed, but they turned back and lifted her to her feet. The three of them ran off, kicking a leather ball around the street.
“What are you suggesting?” I counter. “You want to fight? You think the two of us can possibly stop them?”
His mouth was tight, face grim as he turned away from the window. His eyes were wide. Windows to his soul, and the shutters were left open. I could see straight through him, see the panic he harboured at the thought of facing them. But the alternative was worse. He knew now, as we hadn’t in our youth, what yrch did to those they took captive. He knew what fate awaited this village if we abandoned it.
And somehow his fear for these strangers, this town full of Men and Women we had never met, outweighed his fear for himself.
“We have to do something.”
Author: Elladan
Summary: The twins stop running from their past and start fighting for their future.
Rating: K
------------------------
What we sought was not revenge, but distance.
We snuck out like thieves in the night, and I had to make a choice. I could not leave his side for even a moment, to say goodbye to our family. I could tell with one look that he would leave, and I would never see him again.
He had promised not to send me away. He had not promised not to run from me. And I knew, I knew with such complete certainty that it frightened me, that if I hesitated - if I wavered in my resolve for a single moment - then he would be gone forever.
I dared not.
I had time enough only while he led our horses silently from their stalls, to rip a single page from my sketchbook and scrawl a single note.
We will come home.
I left it in the stall behind him as we slipped out. I could not risk him finding it. He would be angry - frightfully angry - if he knew.
That was it. That was my last chance to stay home, to change my mind. To fetch somebody, to speak to my family. To see my mother.
I do not regret leaving. I am certain, as I am certain of nothing else, that I would have lost him completely, body and soul, had I stayed behind.
And then we were gone. We crossed the bridge in the dead of mid-night, and no soul was out to stop us. He had no intention then but to run, to escape. He could not stand the weight of feeling unwanted. It was crushing him, stealing his breath away. He felt trapped in Imladris, surrounded by fake smiles on fake people. Surrounded by those who would scorn and mock him behind his back, and then offer him sickly sympathy to his face.
He believed none of it.
He would rather face an honest enemy than one who hides their intentions, only to turn on him later and cast him out.
We sought nothing but solitude in those days. We were alone for many months. Just the two of us, wanderers in the Wild. We knew of Dunedain settlements, but he avoided them with strict intensity. We avoided even the smallest of Mannish towns, for he seemed somehow convinced that if we so much as showed our faces, Elves would appear to hound us and drag us back to Rivendell.
For someone so convinced that he had been cast out, he seemed equally afraid of being hunted down and dragged back before father for judgement.
He was determined to fade into obscurity, and for a time we did.
It could not last forever. We did not go seeking out yrch, but when one spends two years in the wild, it becomes a statistical inevitability that you will eventually find them. Or, they will eventually find you.
We were in the foothills of the Ered Nimrais when we heard them. We were lucky. We were in the depths of the forest, late in the night, and surrounded by deep silence. It meant we could hear them from leagues off, long before they became aware of our presence.
We leapt up simultaneously. He threw dirt on the fire, and practically threw himself into it as well in his haste to stomp it out. I bundled any loose metals, like our cookwares, in blankets and tied them to the horses. I threw him his bow, and he fumbled it. His hands shook so badly it fell to the ground. I pretended not to notice.
There was no discussion of what we would do. It was obvious. We fled.
We led the horses until our hearts stopped racing, and then we mounted. For the first time in two long years, we did not turn away from city walls. We rode from the mountains down to the path, and followed it to the gated city we had seen on the journey up.
He led, and I did not question him.
There were no guards, and the gate was left open. We slunk into the sleeping town, and followed the warm glow of the inn. The sounds of people inside, real people, drinking, eating, singing, and cajoling, made my hands shake more than the yrch had.
It had been two years since I had been around people. I turned over my shoulder, as if to ask permission. Was this real? Were we doing this?
He watched me with dark eyes, and his anxious glance shifted to the building beyond. His grip tightened on his reins. He did not want to be here. But he wanted to be outside even less. His lips tightened and his mouth pursed, but we did not turn away.
We slept in a real bed that night.
The cold light of morning brought with it the first frosts to usher in firith. Our breath came out in clouds and the crisp air chilled our lungs. Elladan sat at the window, looking out over the small town. It could barely be called such, as small as it was. Barely a settlement, really.
“Large enough to become a target. Far too small to defend itself. They leave the gate unguarded at night.” He pointed out.
It was easy to guess what he was afraid of. “Then we leave.” I answered. “We have more than a day’s advantage, and the yrch won’t travel in the sunlight. We go further south.”
“No.”
I startled. His eyes were dark as he gazed out over the fields, and the forest beyond. “Ella?”
“Look at these people.” He scoffed. “They don’t know what’s out there. When the yrch come this way, they’ll fire the fields, burn the homes. They won’t stand a chance.” He fell silent. There were children playing in the street. I stood beside him and followed his gaze. “They’ll take the women and children alive, and kill their families. There will be nothing left.”
A small girl was running after two older boys. Her little legs could not carry her as quickly as they, and she stumbled and fell. The boys laughed, but they turned back and lifted her to her feet. The three of them ran off, kicking a leather ball around the street.
“What are you suggesting?” I counter. “You want to fight? You think the two of us can possibly stop them?”
His mouth was tight, face grim as he turned away from the window. His eyes were wide. Windows to his soul, and the shutters were left open. I could see straight through him, see the panic he harboured at the thought of facing them. But the alternative was worse. He knew now, as we hadn’t in our youth, what yrch did to those they took captive. He knew what fate awaited this village if we abandoned it.
And somehow his fear for these strangers, this town full of Men and Women we had never met, outweighed his fear for himself.
“We have to do something.”