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Fractured Light	By : narcolinde Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2651 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters and settings created by JRR Tolkien. No profit earned from this story. Just for fun. OC's and story are erobey's.

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Fractured Light

In the Office of the Elven Lord

"You must understand, we were but children when our mother died and he has depended on me since then."

The ellon shifted in his chair and flashed the renowned elder behind the desk an imploring glance filled with guilt and denial. His eyes dropped back to the hands folded neatly in his lap, the fabric atop which they rested darkly stained with blood. There was so much of it and it was all his brother's. A sharp breath left him and he raised his eyes again.

"Tell me that you can help him," he pleaded, scooting to the utter edge of the seat and gripping the smooth wood of the desk.

"I have yet to examine him," Elrond answered, "but I will do all within my power to aid your brother. The immediate threat has passed and he is in the care of my best healers. Still, it is pointless to send me to him without any information. You have yet to answer me, Thranduilion."

"Yes," the eyes looked away again as the elf retreated to the farthest limits of the chair, crowding up against the sturdy arm, leaning and turning to gaze out through the open veranda to the garden beyond. It was a fair land of peace and learning, a place he had always longed to visit, but not under these conditions.

He was quiet a long time and Elrond permitted the silence, observing his unexpected guest closely. Tall and comely in the manner of the Sindarin folk of old, Rammas strongly favoured his father with golden hair and a haughty brow. His eyes were not the same vibrant green of the famous King; instead, the irises were a shadowy kind of hazel, the sort of eyes that changed colour depending on the light or the mood afflicting the heart. Today, now, they were the palest shade of citron he had ever seen and packed with remorse, worry, and what looked very like shame.

That hint of mortified horror was the reason for this conference, for the wise healer had spotted the underlying emotion fuelling the prince's agitation as soon as he'd trained vision upon him. Fear for his younger brother's life was primary, yet this other concern followed right on it and that was troubling. What could be the source of Rammas' disgrace and how was it connected to his brother's condition? The younger prince lay so near death his recovery was still questionable, but this Elrond would not reveal. Not yet.

It was uncommon for an elf to attempt suicide, yet there was no question the injuries were self-inflicted. That he had been discovered in time was irrelevant; the younger brother had hoped only to die and had chosen the quickest method at his disposal: slicing through his wrists with one of his daggers. He would of course interview the despondent elf, but he wanted to hear Rammas' explanation first. He would know why the failed suicide rendered Rammas ashamed.

Elrond kept his features placid and his internal musing obscured, a skill required of all healers and one he had mastered so many years ago he was no longer cognisant of employing it. Whatever was at the heart of this tragedy, he would extract it through patient silence and careful questions.

A deep sigh left Rammas and he finally turned back to his host.

"Lord Elrond, I never meant anything like this to happen. We were on our way to the Havens and there I intended put him on a ship for Aman. I did not think he was so lost else I would not have permitted him to have any weapons. Valar! I would have bound him hand and foot had I suspected he could do such an act of violence upon himself!"

Rammas shot out of his chair and paced around the spacious office, never seeing the elegance with which it was furnished, the artwork on the walls, the towering case of tomes and scrolls. He did notice the quiet scribe sitting in the corner, dutifully documenting the conversation, and scowled as he returned to the desk and threw himself down in the chair. He pointed at the silent witness.

"Is this necessary? What I would say to you is private, of a highly personal nature and should word get out it would impact my Adar severely. I will not have our family's distress become the fodder that feeds the gossip mills of this land."

Elrond raised his brows. Rammas was trying very hard to justify why he had permitted his brother access to weapons, but this was not the underlying source of his guilt. Nor was this talk of scandal and gossip the reason for his deep sense of humiliation. Even the fear for his father's health felt exaggerated. Elrond decided to challenge this last assertion.
"Do you mean to say your father does not know his younger son was bound for Mithlond? Does he not know of his despair?" Elrond asked.
"Of course he does," groaned Rammas, leaning forward and rubbing at his temples, another surreptitious peek gauging his host's reaction. It availed him nothing; the ancient lore-master just stared, features bland and thoughts inscrutable.

Elrond watched him, simultaneously intrigued and disturbed, for he detected subtle indications that Rammas was putting on a show. His histrionics could only be designed to prevent discovery of the facts. The elder prince was hiding something, its roots far back in the brothers' elfling days, something of which their father had no understanding.

Something he does not want his Adar to learn.

That lay at the core of his anxiety, but Elrond saw no means by which the King could be prevented from finding out about his second child's efforts to destroy himself. Now that the ellon was in Imladris, Rammas had to realise his father would be notified. Elrond was honour bound to do so and to make every effort to uncover and ameliorate the cause of this morbid behaviour.

A matter of the heart, surely.

In all the Elven Lord's vast experience, suicide among the First-born had but one source: a shattered soul. The question, then, was why Rammas would fear to have this revealed and again one answer materialised quickly: an unfortunate competition between the brothers to gain the favour of this love interest, a contest Rammas had won. If this were the case, that would explain the elder brother's guilt but not his shame. So the display presented was meant to answer the bald fact of the dire situation with at best half-truths, which were often harder to disprove than outright lies.

Rammas is protecting himself, or the object of the contention, why?

Whatever the reason, it did not include regard for his brother's fractured heart. This was not lost on Elrond and displeased him greatly.

Beneath his grief and shame, would he be relieved if I fail to heal this lesser prince?

"Hîren, I must beg you to send that scribe away, at least for now," Rammas started up again, nervous in the lengthening silence. "Allow me to explain this for your ears alone and then if you deem it must be recorded I will accept your decision."

Elrond thought about that, wondering if he should grant this request given his certainty that Rammas was implicated in his brother's fate. There was more here than the normal guilt family members experienced when one of their own tried to die, more than the guilt of being the successful suitor. He did not want to gloss over something this serious, believing it a disservice to the suffering elf as well as Rammas. True healing could only come about if the brothers reconciled whatever had come between them. Perhaps Greenwood's heir would more readily expound on the truth if he believed his secrets were shared only with an equal. Elrond decided there could be no harm in deferring the official record and gave a quick command to his secretary, who rose and left without comment.

"There. Rammas, my only hope is to uncover what led to your brother's rash act." Elrond smiled at him. "Now, tell me of Legolas and what happened when you were but children."

"Thank you, Hîren. You will see it is for the best. Such a subject must not get abroad. Legolas is a fine warrior and has never failed to serve with honour and distinction. His recent actions concerned us, Adar and I, to the point that we decided he must go over sea."

"How did Legolas himself react to this decision?" Elrond interrupted.

"Not well," Rammas paused and rubbed a hand over his face. "He accused me of trying to get rid of him. He said it was not necessary, that if I wanted him gone he could manage that without help."

"And the first attempt was made at this time," Elrond nodded, having suspected previous efforts would have been made. He could see wary surprise in Rammas' eyes; as if he had not thought elvendom's best healer would understand such things, and diverted him from contemplating this misjudgement. "Tell me about the behaviour that caught your father's notice."

"It first came to Talagan's attention. He is captain of Legolas' patrol. Soon after I began courting, Legolas requested extended deployment. His reasons were not far-fetched and no one suspected an ulterior motive, yet once the request was approved, he began exhibiting recklessness. He was taking wild chances and placing himself in unnecessary risk. Talagan brought him back unconscious, seriously wounded. He advised Adar to place him on indefinite leave and in the care of the healers."

"The captain thought he was courting death."

"Yes."

"Your father did as he suggested?"

"He did but Legolas would not co-operate. The healers could not divine the source of his malaise and Legolas would speak to no one, not even me." Rammas rubbed his chin, frowning as he spoke and sent the famous healer a speculative look.

"That is unusual," stated Elrond. "It is my experience in such cases that initially the suffering person seeks to alert those he loves, though the means are distressing and often take the form of accusations aimed at the very ones he loves most."

Rammas blinked several times in succession, saying nothing at first, and then he shifted in the chair and amended his report.

"I did not want to talk about that," he intoned, studiously avoiding Elrond's eyes. "He told Adar that he was heart-broken and the fault was mine, that I had taken away all chance for happiness. Adar was furious, first with me but when he was able to confirm that I had not chased away or stolen away Legolas' love interest, his anger turned back upon my brother. There was a volatile row and the things Legolas said, so dark and filled with scorn, earned him a blow to the cheek. He's never been struck before and I think that was the breaking point. That very night he tried to end his life."

"I understand," nodded Elrond, sympathetic and benevolent. In fact, he heard deceit in Rammas' account and surmised this argument had not been between Thranduil and Legolas, but between the younger prince and his brother. "What method did he use?"

"A repeat of his actions while on duty. He left the stronghold and invaded a spider colony alone. Fortunately, there are always patrols on alert throughout Greenwood and one of these spotted him. The captain wisely decided to follow his prince and thus Legolas was extricated from the vile monsters' clutches in time to administer the antidote to the venom."

Rammas was twisting his hands together and once more averted his eyes as he told this tale. Elrond waited, wondering if the prince realised that Legolas must have wanted to be found and saved. Before he could try to draw out that notion, the prince began again.

"I behaved badly; I admit it freely. I was so upset and so angry with him! How could he do this to me, to Adar?" he stopped abruptly and actually covered his lips with one hand.

"What did you say to him?" asked Elrond, knowing that whatever followed was not the source of the guilt but that he was meant to think it was. The truth must be dire for Rammas to go to such lengths to conceal it.

"I called him selfish and unfeeling, jealous and cruel. I told him he was driving Adar back into grief when it had taken so long to mend him," Rammas muttered from behind his fingers, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched forward. Again his wary gaze flickered up to Elrond's, the irises now a darker green tinged with gold. "I told him…I said I did not love him anymore."

That last statement was wholly truth, Elrond deemed, and Rammas had really said those words. Their impact on Legolas was obvious. The rest of the prince's story skirted truth without touching on the real crisis. He decided to play along and rose from his chair, retrieving a small flask and pouring out a swallow of the famous cordial into a silver cup. He pressed it into the prince's hands and smiled with gentle compassion, a hand resting on the forlorn elf's shoulder.

"You must not blame yourself for this," he said. "A reaction like that is not uncommon and we have all had moments of rage spawned by fear. You were so distraught you did not realise what you were saying." Having delivered the expected dispensation and observed the satisfaction with which it was received, Elrond returned to his chair, a definite sense of gloom clouding his heart. Rammas would not have been pleased for his brother to die, that much he believed, but he was very glad the subterfuge appeared to be working. It would be easy to get the real story now, for the elf would never realise he was revealing it.

"Thank you, Hîren," said Rammas, offering a grateful smile that did not reach his eyes. He inhaled deeply and continued. "I regretted it before morning and went to apologise, but he was not in his rooms. I raised the alarm and we searched the palace without result. Legolas is adept at disappearing if he so wishes; countless times he's evaded notice and gone off alone. Adar was frantic, knowing he was still ill from the spider poison, and went out with the search parties himself."

"Was it he who discovered your brother?" Elrond asked quickly, watching his guest's reaction keenly. Rammas was shaking his head, again bent over, face cast down and eyes averted.

"I found him in a place we used to go in our youth. It was our secret hide-away and he would retreat there whenever he was in Muindoradar's bad graces."

"Was that often?" interjected Elrond quickly, expression benign while his voice was compelling, his goal to throw Rammas off the carefully constructed story-line.

"What?" The prince's head came up and he stared at the elder in confusion.

"Was Legolas often in your uncle's bad graces?"

"Oh. Yes, somewhat more than I. Is that important?"

"Possibly. Go on, Rammas." Elrond smiled and made an encouraging motion with his hand.

"Yes, well, I decided to look there. He had meant to hang himself." Rammas shuddered as he said it and lifted his hands to cover his eyes as though to block the vision behind them.

"Yet you were able to resuscitate him," Elrond nodded, saddened to discern the reference to secrecy and Legolas' near invisibility amid the household, his tendency to hide in this place only the brothers shared. He did not confront Rammas, but he knew that had hanging been the real method, only immediate aid could have rejuvenated Legolas. Rammas would have had to find him within minutes of the act and that scenario did not fit the story given. "That is when your father decided he could not risk another attempt. The trip to Mithlond was planned and he sent word ahead to Círdan to make a ship ready."

"Just as you say, Hîren," Rammas said, never realising the faint note of triumph in his tone was more than audible to the gifted healer's ears.

"So there have been two failed attempts prior to this one," Elrond rose from his desk and strode out into the room, clasping his hands behind him as he paced, seeming to be deep in thought. "Even so, Legolas was permitted to carry his weapons on the journey. No doubt the danger of attack through Hithaeglir accounts for that decision and in any case he was under constant surveillance. Somehow he slipped from sight and nearly succeeded in killing himself." Elrond worded his conclusions carefully, not wanting his guest to suspect his real thoughts. He paused and turned to Rammas. "You mentioned jealousy; do you feel this is the cause of Legolas' desperate actions?"

"Yes. You have to understand, Legolas and I have been inseparable since childhood. He depended on me when our mother died and Adar could not rise from grief to care for him." Rammas' voice was appropriately subdued and replete with anguished concern. "We share a close bond forged from our own grief. I did not realise how deep it had grown for Legolas until my betrothal. He cannot accept that I love another and desire a family of my own apart from him. I tried to explain that my feelings for him have not lessened, but he does not hear me. I thought he was just trying to get my attention, to force me to end my engagement."

"How old were the two of you when you lost your Naneth?" Elrond asked gently, his countenance cast in sympathetic planes, while beneath this facade despondent anger built. Jealousy to such a degree did not generally arise merely because a sibling wished to marry, not even between identical twins. Jealousy this malignant and destructive arose only between lovers.

"Legolas was only ten; I was thirty-five," mourned Rammas. "I thought he would fade and would not let him from my sight. The healers would not let us see Ada, believing he was beyond hope. It was surreal; in a palace filled with family and friends, we were alone but for each other."

"Yes, it must have been incomprehensible to children so young," Elrond murmured, sure now what was really behind Legolas' desire to die. The clues were all there and Rammas had as much as admitted it. He sighed heavily and returned to his chair, studying the ellon in front of him. "The comfort shared between you is understandable; indeed, it was almost inevitable. You had common rooms, one bed?"

Rammas hesitated, fear returning to his eyes as the colour in them dimmed.

"Aye. Legolas was afraid to be alone. He thought I would die, too, or that he would. Our aunt did try to break him of it, but his screams of terror were unbearable. In the end, they had more than enough to do looking after the kingdom and Adar."

"Most unfortunate," Elrond sighed, and this was a heartfelt comment indeed. "And the fact that you two took care of each other only means the rest of the household was relieved. The uncle, Thranduil's younger brother, assumed the mantle of Regent, correct?" Rammas nodded and made to speak but Elrond held up a hand to prevent it. "His family must have been overwhelmed, caught up in the new arrangements and fighting grief, too, though of a lesser degree. Your uncle's fear of losing his brother would have been nearly all-consuming, even terrifying given the numbers in the immediate family lost to death and Mandos. As time went on, you and your brother's self-sufficiency would have been viewed as a blessing instead of a warning."

"Aye, Hîren, all you say is true," Rammas murmured, fear plain in his lowered voice and pale green eyes. "I did the best I could for him. I did not know what to do and he… loved me so." The prince swallowed hard and remained quiet, uncertain if he had said too much or too little.

"It is all right to say it, Rammas," Elrond spoke with quiet authority, hoping he could convince the prince to confide in him. "You were also a child; no one would hold you to blame for what happened. You needed him, too. She was also your mother and your grief was just as deep, just as raw, just as harrowing. You depended on Legolas as much as he did upon you, if not more."

"Yes." The single word was crammed fat with anxious confusion and Rammas was unable to break from the elven Lord's commanding stare.

"Understand me; my brother and I underwent a similar ordeal, orphaned at a young age and forced to rely on one another for all things," he added. "All things, Rammas. Yet we were not left to our own defences long. The captors who would hold us hostage turned into surrogate parents we came to love. They intervened and explained, without censure or punishment, why we must stop, Elros and I. Because I was the dominant twin, I was sent to dwell with Círdan for several years; time enough for both of us to develop a measure of independence and understanding. When we were reunited, we were brothers again and all remained harmonious between us ever more. I am eternally grateful for my foster-fathers' intervention.

"As the elder brother, you are naturally the dominant one. No one stopped you; you had no means to judge the harm such intimacy invited for you were only a child. Maturation was undoubtedly slow and stilted, but the body advances according to the natural order of all living beings and Legolas loves you. Curiosity is also natural and the result was, as I said, inevitable. Had it ended there you would not be here; he would not be in the House of Healing. But elflings, even grieving ones, do not remain elflings. The day came when you knew it should end, but you could not end it and neither could he."

"I…What are you saying?"

"Can you not admit it, here where there are no other ears to hear? Was that not your purpose for demanding no record of the facts?" Elrond coaxed his reluctant witness, truly desiring only for him to own the past and its affect upon Legolas. "I give you my solemn word that no hint of this shall become public knowledge. You love your brother, do you not?"

"Of course I do, but I do not see…" Rammas broke off and licked his lips, hands nervously twisting together again.

"Then say it," commanded Elrond, rising and gazing down upon his guest, his tone and presence daunting, the subtle power of Vilya cloaking him in a might far beyond the comprehension of his deceitful guest. "Tell me that you love your brother. I would hear your voice when you speak those words."

Rammas rose, too, and backed from the desk. "I do not know what you mean. Of course I love my brother, Lord Elrond."

"And Legolas?"

"What?"

"Your brother. Tell me what manner of love Legolas bears for you."

Rammas stood gaping, face wan and eyes wide, breath suspended, frozen in dread. He shook his head and a hand raised to trail against his throat as he swallowed again. Finally he heaved a shaky breath and sought to answer, knowing that all would be revealed to this ancient elf as soon as he spoke. What then?

"Adar must not find out," he blurted the words in desperation. "He could not bear it and he has only so recently healed. That is the only reason I…" and he stopped, unable to go on until he knew what Elrond would do. "Hîren, you must see how serious is our situation. Greenwood needs her King and Thranduil needs to believe all is well with his sons."

"Greenwood needs her King? Forgive me, but that is preposterous. Do you mean to tell me Thranduil is content to have Legolas torn from him? Do you imply he does not grieve for what has happened to him already? What father could be content knowing one of his children has three times sought to end his life?" Elrond thundered, disgusted by such excuses. Then he reined in his wrath and drew a deep breath. "It is simple enough and your father will understand, Rammas. He will understand and forgive. I understand and forgive, for this sin is the the result of fear, grief, unintentional neglect, and desperate loneliness. Who is it who will not forgive, your betrothed? Her family?"

"Sin? Forgiveness?" shouted Rammas, fists clenching tight. "I have tried to be a good brother to him; this is Legolas' doing! I am the one who stood by him always; I am the one who has taken care of him, loved him! Now that I have a chance for a life of my own, he would destroy it and ruin me!"

"Strange, it is not you lying in the infirmary, Rammas. Once more I exhort you: admit what you have done for your own sake as much as your brother's."

Elrond paused and watched as Rammas' eyes tore from him, furtively flickering around the room, assessing his means of escape, a trapped rat if ever the Elven Lord had seen one. It was in his nature to be merciful, yet the prince's behaviour was not conducive to that natural response. Even so, he had been wrong before and must give the ellon every opportunity to unburden his soul. Sadly, Thranduil's heir rejected the saving grace of confession. Rammas drew himself tall, gathering his regal heritage around him.

"Your words trouble and confuse me," he said coldly."I brought my brother here for help and instead I hear only accusations that I am responsible for what has happened. This suspicion and doubt does not serve and I will take Legolas elsewhere. I will get him to Mithlond alive even if I have to bind him for the entire journey. Please forgive the intrusion of our family crisis into your peaceful realm." He gave a curt half bow and turned to go but Elrond's voice halted him.

"You may go at your leave, but Legolas must stay here."

"I beg your pardon, Hîren, buy that…"

"That is how it will be. He is ill, sick unto death. He will not survive the journey. Three times he has tried to die and as in any undertaking, practice leads to expertise. He will succeed before you reach the Havens. Is that what you want?"

"No! How can you imply that?"

"I imply nothing," snapped Elrond. "I am being quite explicit, Rammas. Under your care, Legolas will die. Here, there is a chance he might be healed, body and soul, for he is young. You are both young," Elrond continued, more compassion in his voice. "Even now you are less than three-hundred years and thus so is Legolas. I do not believe you truly want him to die; you are just frightened and emotions moved beyond your control."

"What? I am not afraid." Yet the timbre and tone of his words belied their spoken meaning.

"Go, Rammas Thranduilion, Prince of Greenwood. Return to your homeland and marry your Lady. I will send word to King Thranduil on Legolas' condition." Elrond ordered sternly, having heard all he cared to for now. He felt pity for Rammas but he could not expend any more energy on him at the moment. Legolas must be his concern. "You are not to see him before you leave. By noon on the morrow, you and all your contingent must be across Bruinen. This is my decree; do not go against it or be assured that my report to your adar will be entirely too detailed for your comfort."

Rammas stood in stupefied disbelief, unable to conjure words of rebuttal, and Elrond did not wait for him to recover his composure. He exited through the open portico adjacent to his study and headed across the lawn, making for the House of Healing.

TBC

The Names:

RAMMAS: Wall

TALAGAN: Harper

MUINDORADAR: Uncle (brother-father)

FORN'WAEW: North Wind

SAMMAR: Neighbour

GILION: Star Son

Disclaimer: Main characters and settings originally created by JRR Tolkien. Just for fun, no money earned. OC's and story are erobey's.
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Fractured Light

Fractured Light

In the Office of the Elven Lord

Disclaimer: Main characters and settings originally created by JRR Tolkien. Just for fun, no money earned. OC's and story are erobey's.