On the uppermost tier of Rivendell, adorned with intricately carved wooden doors, the heavy, pungent scent of healing herbs dominated Elrohir's spacious chamber. Elrond was meticulously applying a poultice, which he had carefully prepared with his own hands, to the battered bodies of his sons stretched out on the beds. The twins still lay paralyzed and motionless under the lingering effects of the brutal blows and the venom they had endured. Their family never left their bedside for even a moment, tending to them with deep concern and profound affection. Arwen broke the silence as she gently wiped the lingering traces of blood from her elder brother Elledan's chest with a pristine cloth.
"I don't understand, brother... you are the more careful one. How is it that your wounds are more severe than my reckless brother Elrohir's?"
Lying utterly immobilized in his bed, Elrohir grimaced in deep displeasure upon hearing the words tumbling from his sister's lips. He practically felt an invisible ache pierce his heart.
"Hey! I am right here and I can hear you, Arwen!"
Arwen completely ignored her brother's reproachful outburst, maintaining her focus on her task. Meanwhile, Elledan, who had gathered just enough strength to move his lips thanks to the intensive treatment administered by his father, chimed in quietly.
"I got hurt because I was saving your brother's ass."
At this crude expression tumbling from her son's mouth, Celebrian, standing at the far end of the room, instantly furrowed her brows. With the unmistakable air of a mother, she interjected reproachfully.
"Elledan, do not swear!"
Caught off guard by this sudden reprimand, a strange and sheepish expression flickered across Elledan's face, caught between the pride of his heroic deed and the sting of being scolded.
"Alright, mother..."
Meanwhile, Elrohir, still paralyzed in the other bed, could no longer bear his brother's taunts and fired back with his own grievance.
"I told you to leave me and go! But you just had to play the hero!"
Though he couldn't even lift his head from the pillow, Elledan refused to be outdone by his brother, retorting with an equally biting tone.
"If you ever ask me to abandon my twin brother again, Elrohir, I will send you to Eru with my own hands!"
Elrohir raised his eyebrows in disbelief at this audacious threat hurled from his brother's bed.
"Well, look at that! I think someone is begging for a beating!"
"Come on then! Come and hit me!"
"ELLEDAN! ONCE I RECOVER, I AM GOING TO £#$£# YOUR MOUTH!"
"NO, I'M GOING TO £#$#£#£½@@ YOU!"
Arwen's eyes went wide with utter shock at the sudden flurry of creative curses flying through the air—profanities she had never heard in her entire life. Celebrian, on the other hand, rubbed her forehead as a sudden migraine flared at her temples, brought on by her two sons' childish bickering. Her patience finally snapped, and she roared in pure exasperation.
"BOTH OF YOU! STOP BICKERING AND SWEARING THIS INSTANT!"
At their mother's thunderous voice, the twins lying in their beds involuntarily shivered with fear and fell silent instantly. Even Elrond, who had been closely examining Elrohir's leg, gave a slight start at his wife's sudden roar. After casting a brief glance at his furious wife, he cleared his throat to defuse the situation and spoke with an authoritative tone.
"Both of you, calm down. We were deeply worried about you."
Then, lowering his voice slightly, he added a gentle but firm warning.
"Furthermore, you are setting a terrible example for Arwen."
Feeling as though she were being sheltered like a little child, Arwen pouted and sulked at this remark.
"I am 2000 years old now, Father! I am not a child anymore!"
The twins silently acknowledged their father's justified intervention and shelved their argument, yet at that precise moment, the exact same vengeful thought crossed both of their minds.
'We will settle this later!'
Celebrian, who knew that mischievous look on her sons' faces all too well, remained silent for a moment. The twins had been away from home for about four hundred years; though a relatively short span for an elf, both had visibly hardened under the harsh realities of the outside world. As Celebrian sighed helplessly at this realization, making a mental note to strictly discipline both of her sons once they healed, a sudden detail flashed in Elledan's mind.
"Do you remember that High Orc? The one wearing full plate armor that you fought during the initial ambush?"
At this sudden and grave change of subject, the other three people in the room stopped what they were doing and looked at Elledan with keen interest. Elrond, who was only just learning the intricate details of the battle, furrowed his brows deeply under the weight of this new information.
'Did the Orcs, Dark Elves, and High Orcs form an alliance?'
Since he still couldn't move his body, Elrohir's gaze remained fixed straight on the room's ornately carved ceiling. He responded to his brother's question with a curious tone.
"Yes? Why do you ask? I saw him retreat during the fight."
Elledan let out a bitter chuckle from his bed.
"It seems we will be crossing paths with him again..."
Elrohir raised his eyebrows, unable to make sense of this.
"What do you mean?"
Elledan puffed up his exhausted chest and let out a deep sigh.
"Just like Igris said, we have a stalker."
Before he could even finish his sentence, Celebrian cut in sharply.
"Elledan! Watch your language!"
Reprimanded by his mother once again for his choice of words, Elledan instantly slumped his shoulders and thought to himself unhappily.
'...Why am I starting to regret coming back home?'
Staring at the ceiling with a soft sigh, he continued his explanation.
"That High Orc's name is Gusga. Gusga, son of Gugalat."
Hearing this name, Elrohir and Elrond were stunned. Elrond frowned in utmost seriousness and asked.
"What does he want?"
Elledan answered his father's question in a calm voice.
"To finish our fathers' war."
Elrond fell silent for a moment as this historical reckoning resurfaced, feeling a dull ache throb at his temples. Without waiting, Elledan pressed on.
"The guy is obsessed with you, sees you as his prey, and wants to kill you in a fair fight?"
Elrohir curled his lip in nonchalant dismissal at what he heard.
"I already realized he wasn't normal during our first clash... I charged at him on horseback, and he knocked me right off my horse with a single punch!"
Then, even though he couldn't turn to look at his brother, he smirked, adding a mocking lilt to his voice.
"Why did he ignore you?"
Before answering this question, a bizarre memory flashed through Elledan's mind, bringing with it a severe headache.
"Because his sister claimed me as her prey..."
Hearing this, Elrohir went completely quiet in his bed for a moment, struck dumb by astonishment, before bursting into a roaring burst of laughter that echoed off the walls.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Unable to stomach his brother's mockery, Elledan yelled furiously.
"SHUT UP AND STOP LAUGHING!"
But Elrohir simply couldn't stop; he laughed so hard that his shaking body caused a sudden, sharp spasm in his injured leg. The agonizing pain cut his laughter short, forcing him to grit his teeth. Taking a moment to compose himself, he spoke again in a teasing tone.
"Hah! My twin is so incredibly handsome that even High Orc women are chasing after him!"
Elledan adopted a thoroughly miserable expression in the face of this cruel joke.
"You do realize we share the exact same face, right?"
Elrohir immediately twisted this truth in his favor and dismissed it.
"No, I am broader, and you are more delicate."
Astounded that the two brothers could find something to joke about even in the direst of circumstances, Arwen looked first at Elrohir, then at Elledan in the other bed.
"How can you be so relaxed when there is someone hunting you? You barely survived an ambush! Do you have any idea how terrified Mother and I were?"
After a brief moment of silence following his sister's justified outburst, Elrohir spoke as if it were the most mundane thing in the world.
"Force of habit, I guess..."
Elledan chimed in, validating his brother.
"We've dealt with far worse situations."
Upon hearing this casual remark, Celebrian frowned in deep concern.
"What worse situations?"
Elrond, who had been listening to the entire conversation in silence while continuing to apply the healing ointment, felt his face darken incrementally. He had deliberately kept Celebrian in the dark about certain perilous missions the twins had undertaken in the outside world, specifically to spare her this very anxiety. Just as Elrohir opened his mouth to answer his mother's question, Elrond gave his son's injured leg a subtle, warning squeeze. Jolted by the unexpected physical pressure, Elrohir let out a sudden gasp of pain.
"AH!"
At her son's pained groan, Celebrian leaped up in sheer panic and rushed to the edge of the bed.
"Are you alright?"
In that moment of chaotic distraction, Elrond performed a masterful maneuver, tapping out a rhythmic sequence on his son's skin with his fingertips, transmitting a silent message. Instantly grasping his father's covert method of communication, Elrohir put on a show to cover up the situation.
"I am fine, my leg is just hurting a lot..."
He plastered a highly convincing, agonized expression onto his face. Seeing her son in such distress, Celebrian stroked his hair with sorrowful, tender affection. As Arwen hurried to her suffering brother's side, Elrond seized the opportunity provided by the distraction. He rose smoothly to his feet and approached Elledan on the adjacent bed.
"Arwen, bandage your brother's leg. It will heal in a few days."
Arwen obediently nodded, heeding her father's instruction.
"Yes, Father."
She immediately set to work with the medical supplies in her hands, beginning to dress her brother's leg with incredibly calm, graceful, yet meticulous movements. Meanwhile, Elrond locked eyes silently with Elledan and spoke.
"How are you feeling?"
While asking this ordinary question, he blinked in a rapid, rhythmic sequence, sending another covert message to his son.
'Your mother and Arwen do not know about certain missions!'
Catching this visual warning instantly, Elledan responded calmly, without betraying a flicker of emotion on his face.
"I am fine, Father. The wound on my chest is just stinging slightly, and I am tired."
Elrond nodded, inwardly appreciating his son's professional adaptability. Outwardly, however, he spoke in the flat, grave tone of a dedicated healer.
"That is to be expected. You lost a great deal of blood, and there is still poison lingering in your veins, but you will be back on your feet, fully healed, within a few days."
Having received his father's medical assurance, Elledan nodded and brought up the issue that was truly gnawing at him.
"What are we going to do about the Gusga situation?"
Placing his hand on his son's chest, the Ring of Power on his finger giving off a faint, ethereal gleam in the dim light, Elrond sank into deep thought and remained silent for a moment before letting out a weary sigh.
"I never expected this matter to stretch on for so long... tell me exactly what happened."
Elledan calmly recounted everything down to the finest detail: the terrifying moment of the ambush in the forest, the sudden and unexpected intervention of the High Orcs, and the exact exchange of words between them. Having listened to his son's account with rapt attention, Elrond sighed heavily and rubbed his brow with his fingers.
"The two of you are incredibly fortunate to have made it out of that ambush alive. Those four guards are Gugalat's confidants and personal protectors; had they made a move, your situation would have been dire."
After finishing his sentence, he chuckled cynically at this bizarre twist of fate.
"Life is full of surprises. I never thought I would find myself indebted to the Green Raiders."
Right around that moment, an inexplicable, peculiar expression suddenly overtook Elledan's face. Baffled by this sudden unease that seemed to arise out of nowhere, Elrond frowned and asked.
"Is there a problem?"
Trying to make sense of the strange, unsettling feeling blooming inside him, Elledan spoke with a bewildered look.
"No... it is just... I just got this uncanny feeling that someone has discovered one of my secrets..."
Elrond raised a single eyebrow at his son's seemingly baseless premonition, but chose not to dwell on it, remaining silent.
At that exact moment, wrapped in the thick silence of the adjacent room, two figures—one large, one small—were conducting a covert investigation. As Igris rummaged through an ornately carved wooden chest in the corner of the room, he eagerly picked up a rolled parchment and slowly unfurled it, revealing an old, yellowed portrait.
"Well, well. The twins were quite adorable as babies."
Hearing these words, little Estel, who was standing at the other end of the room, ran over to Igris full of curiosity. He peered at the picture and was left in absolute awe at the sight before him.
"Are these Lord Elledan and Lord Elrohir? But why do they look like girls?"
Igris chuckled at the boy's innocent question.
"Most elves possess an elegant and delicate beauty, which is why it seems that way to you, but yes, they do look like girls."
He then pulled another rolled parchment from the chest and unrolled it with care. This time, he was greeted by the portrait of another infant, one with a flawlessly smooth face, distinctly different from the first. Realizing that this new drawing was vastly more precious and endearing than the previous ones, Igris giggled in sheer amusement, holding the two parchments side by side to compare them.
"Look, Arwen looks much cuter than the twins."
Rising onto his tiptoes to peer curiously at the drawings, Estel nodded in starry-eyed agreement.
"Yes. Very cute."
Snickering to himself, Igris continued to rifle through the neatly packed items in the chest. Soon, his fingers brushed against another parchment, its texture feeling distinctly different from the rest. When he unrolled it, he found a text written in the graceful, flowing curves of the Quenya script. Unable to read it himself, he quickly turned his head and asked Estel with burning curiosity.
"Can you read this?"
Having recognized the script thanks to his excellent education, Estel hesitated, deeply uncomfortable with the idea of snooping through someone else's private belongings.
"...I can read it, but it wouldn't be right for me to do so... these are private things..."
Faced with the boy's lofty moral stance, Igris rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Oh, don't worry about it. We are just investigating Elledan's past here! Not Rivendell's tactical weaknesses!"
Despite this attempt at persuasion, Estel shifted uncomfortably on his feet, still deeply hesitant.
"But..."
Igris, trying to normalize the deed, spoke with the utmost calm.
"Come on, Estel. I saved the guys from Dark Elves; he won't care about a little thing like this."
When Estel remained torn between right and wrong, still hesitating, Igris decided to play his ultimate trump card to make the offer irresistible.
"Tell you what, if you read this for me, I will let you taste every single dish I cook this week."
The little boy, who was barely ten years old, paused for a moment at this blatant bribe and looked at Igris. The mouthwatering flavors of the unique dishes he had tasted vividly flashed in his mind, but ultimately, refusing to compromise his integrity, he remained unconvinced. Seeing the boy's unshakable resolve, Igris gave up trying to force him, letting out a tired sigh as he carefully folded the parchment and slipped it directly into his own secret inventory.
"Well, if it feels so wrong to you, I will just find someone else. I am sure Elrohir or Arwen will be absolutely thrilled by this parchment..."
Igris, of course, was no fool; he would never, ever broadcast his friend's deepest, darkest secrets to random strangers... However, whether the document he had found would spell good or bad news for his friends remained entirely to be seen. Shrugging his shoulders, Igris turned back to the chest and enthusiastically resumed his rummaging right where he had left off.
"Let's see what else is hiding in this treasure chest..."