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Elrond slowly awoke to the comforting sensation of someone stroking his hair. He smelled juniper trees and freshly sanded wood. That combination of scents meant Ereinion. King Gil-galad in public, Ereinion in private. He who was, if Elrond was honest with himself, not just one of Elrond’s best friends and his beloved older foster-brother, but also as much of a father-figure as Elrond would allow him to be. As much of a father-figure, in his own way, as Cirdan, or Maglor and Maedhros.
So, normally this would be a fine way to wake up. But not now, not these days. Not since Elros had sailed away with the Edain to the far-distant Island of the Gift. These days, Elrond had been doing his best to avoid his King, cousin, and foster-brother, outside of their official duties. Not because Ereinion had done anything to offend him, but because being with Ereinion - or their uncles, or any of their close friends - reminded Elrond too much of Elros.
It still hurt too much, to think of Elros. Especially in the weeks most closely following the twins' birthday. The best way that Elrond had found to deal with the pain of missing his twin was to bury himself in work while avoiding everything which reminded him of Elros. Everything, and everyone.
Fortunately, there was never a shortage of work for Elrond to do. In addition to being Ereinion's heir, vassal lord, and herald, Elrond was also a Master Healer and a Master Scholar. On top of that, he and Ereinion took it in turns to personally lead a company of Lindon’s army on patrol at least once a quarter.
As Elrond came closer to full wakefulness, he realized that Ereinion was sitting beside him on his bed. The King was propped up on pillows against the headboard. His nearer hand continued to stroke Elrond's silky raven hair, while his other arm appeared to be engaged in some activity. Drawing, maybe? Ereinion had achieved his mastery in several artistic disciplines, and enjoyed sketching and painting in his free time. He'd sat on the twins' bed waiting for them to awake like this before, whilst drawing with a charcoal pencil on his lap desk.
Despite Elrond's firm resolution to continue keeping Ereinion at a distance until after the memories of Elros had faded a bit following their recent birthday, Elrond couldn't help but turn his head into the caress. 'Touch-starved,' Elrond diagnosed himself, with considerable frustration. He didn't want to need physical affection from anyone, damn it. Not when the person whom he most needed, the person who'd always been in his mind and often at his side, had sailed so far away that Elrond couldn't do any more than tell that Elros was still alive.
Ereinion's hand went from stroking Elrond's hair to ruffling it as he greeted, "Good morning, Little Cousin. If you'd slept much longer, it would have been 'good afternoon.'"
Excellent. A good excuse to leave the room, and put some distance between them.
"So late!" exclaimed Elrond. He opened his iridescent blue-gray eyes to the sight of Ereinion putting his lap-desk onto the nightstand on the far side of Elrond's large four poster bed.
"You must have needed the sleep," Ereinion said kindly. He added, as Elrond sat up, "You may as well stay where you are, my Shadow. We need to have a chat."
"I beg your pardon, Sire, but unless it is an emergency, I must ask that we speak later. I'm overdue for a shift at the Healing Hall. Advirion didn't wake me when he should have,” Elrond informed his cousin as he pushed himself away and swung his legs toward the floor.
Ereinion reached out one strong arm to snag Elrond around the waist and yank him back onto the bed. He said with exasperation, "Do you see my court here? Try again."
Looking up into his cousin's concerned, mildly irritated hazel eyes, Elrond amended with studied patience, "Ereinion, I'm very late. Let me up."
"No, you are not late. Because I've cancelled all of your shifts. For today, and tomorrow,” Ereinion told him sternly.
"What?!?" yelped Elrond, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"You are not expected in the Healing Hall, your office, the Library, the Archives, or the Army Barracks for the next two days."
"But I have patients!" Elrond insisted, sitting up in preparation to make an escape - and thereby avoid this conversation.
Ereinion shoved Elrond back down on the bed and straddled him to keep him still. As he did so he counseled, "Calm down. Master Healer Isyatur told me that there are no patients, currently, who require your specific skills. If that changes, he has promised to send for you, and I will allow that as an exception."
"But I also have to supervise the preparations for the treaty negotiations with . . ."
Ereinion strictly interrupted, "That is not as important as your health."
Elrond narrowed his eyes, "You wouldn't say that if I wasn't . . ."
"My cousin? My friend? My heir?"
When Elrond said nothing, Ereinion frowned at him and instructed, "On the contrary, I would allow that any one of my subjects who had been working themselves as hard as you've been might have a vacation. I would do so as soon as their supervisor called their situation to my attention."
"But . . ."
"I don't want to hear any more excuses, my Little Negotiator,” Ereinion warned him. His tone was austere, but not unkind.
"Ereinion . . ." pleaded Elrond.
Ereinion leaned back on his heels with an exasperated sigh. He censured, "Elrond, you wouldn't have slept until nearly noon if . . ."
"If you hadn't ordered Advirion not to wake me," Elrond interjected, much aggravated at this royal effrontery.
"Excuse you, Atto Cirdan taught you better than to interrupt someone who is speaking to you."
"I do beg your pardon, oh great and wise King . . ."
"Stop trying to piss me off.”
"I meant to say, 'Ereinion, please do go on,'" Elrond invited, gritting his teeth at the accuracy of that charge. If Ereinion lost his temper, he might stalk off, and let Elrond go back to finding effective ways to distract himself from his grief.
"Thank you, Elrond, I will. As I was saying, you wouldn't have slept this late if you hadn't been overworking yourself again. We've talked about this," Ereinion reproached.
Elrond groaned.
Ereinion arched a brow, "Ah, so you do remember my warning you that you would be taking a little vacation, if we had to discuss this again?"
Elrond sighed.
"Well?"
"Yes, your Grace, I remember that."
"Elrond, allow me to assure you that I am not going to lose my temper so completely as to storm off and forget all about this. No matter how often you use my title to try to irritate me."
Elrond sighed again.
"Good try, though," Ereinion complimented with a wry smile.
"Thanks," Elrond muttered, doing his best not to be a little amused, himself.
Ereinion's expression grew serious again as he lectured, "It is my hope that you will take a lesson from this. If we have to have this conversation again, then you will be taking a two week vacation."
"Two weeks!?!" exclaimed Elrond, outraged.
"And I'll spank you."
"Ugh," bemoaned Elrond. He also blushed, because he could tell that Ereinion was serious about the spanking.
"If it happens a third time," Ereinion threatened, "Then I shall not do anything."
"The catch being?"
"I shall tell Atto Cirdan. Then I will let him deal with you."
"Ereinion!" Elrond complained. "That's a blatant violation of the Code." Something he tried not to mention, or even think about, since the Code had been an 'Elrond, Elros, and Ereinion' agreement. Not just an Elrond-and-Ereinion one.
"No, it's not," Ereinion countered fondly, "Because this constitutes 'fair warning,' under the Code. Although, if you want an option . . ."
"You," Elrond chose preemptively, "No matter what, I'd rather answer to you." Elrond could bear the thought of a whipping from Ereinion a lot easier than he could bear the thought of suffering a lecture and a whipping from Cirdan, without Elros there to share in it and lighten the mood. At least Ereinion and Elrond had developed a friendship that existed outside of their mutual kinship with Elros. That was more than could be said of Elrond and either of their uncles.
"You didn't let me finish. Your options, if this happens a third time, would be Atto Cirdan or Uncle Celeborn and Aunt Galadriel. If they happen to be in Lindon at the time, that is."
"Ugh," griped Elrond. Their mutual foster-father Cirdan was stricter than Celeborn. But Uncle Celeborn wielded a mean paddle, too, and he was the one who frowned most fiercely on Elrond burning his candle at both ends. Normally, Aunt ‘I don't sweat the small stuff now how about a mind-magic lesson’ Galadriel didn't care about anything so anodyne as one of her nephews working too hard. She wasn't strict in the same way that her husband and Great-uncle Cirdan were. But if she did decide that whatever you'd done had worried her, then she'd find some creative way to make you suffer.
"Ha!" said Ereinion with a laugh as he pointed an admonitory finger at Elrond, "Now you know how I felt, whenever you snitched to them about something that I'd done."
Elrond rolled his eyes, "I always warned you, first."
"Yes, yes."
"Usually more than once," he defended himself.
"I know, my Little Shadow. You're quite fair, when it comes to such things."
"So," wheedled Elrond, "Maybe you could let me off, just this once, and . . ."
Ereinion scoffed, "Nice try."
Elrond grumbled, "I'm not even sure what I'm going to do with myself, for a whole day and a half."
"Come to the market with me this afternoon," Ereinion invited, "I need to buy new paints and paintbrushes."
Elrond didn't want to do that. Elros had most often been with them on excursions to the marketplace, before he'd sailed away forever.
Ereinion indulgently offered, "As long as we buy my art supplies first, I'll let you spend as much time as you like with the book sellers and the apothecarists."
"Mmm," murmured Elrond pensively. The market would be a pleasant place to wander on what he could tell from his open windows was a beautiful spring day. Also, those were not parts of the market they’d generally ventured into when Elros had been with them. Even though they were some of Elrond’s particular favorites.
"And I'll buy you one of those ridiculously expensive fruit tarts you like, afterwards."
"Hmm."
"Please," coaxed Ereinion.
When Elrond merely sighed, his cousin compassionately urged, "You have to start spending time around people again."
Elrond turned away, so that Ereinion wouldn't see him blinking back tears.
Ereinion reached out to cup Elrond's chin. He turned Elrond's head gently so that their eyes met again and begged, "Please, Elrond, stop working yourself to death in an attempt to avoid us. But know that we'll never give up on you, even if you do keep hiding away in your duties as much as we'll let you."
"I know you won't," Elrond replied, after taking a deep, shuddery breath.
He considered the market trip further, while Ereinion waited patiently. At length Elrond conceded, "I will go to the market with you. If we can go by a toy shop AND the book sellers."
Ereinion tilted his head, clearly amused, as he answered, "Elrond, I will take you absolutely anywhere you want to go that doesn't involve you working. But why a toy shop?"
"Because it is almost little Erestor Arandilion's begetting day," Elrond reminded him. "Which means it will be little Celebrian's again in just a few months. If we buy her gifts today and send them on the next caravan to Lake Evendim, then they should arrive there on time."
"How do you remember these things?" marveled Ereinion, "Do you remember the Begetting Days of all the babies you've delivered?"
Elrond laughed, "No. That would be too much to ask of even the most caring healer. I remember Erestor's because he was born just a week before Longest Day. At the time, I recall Arandil telling me how he would have to stop hating Longest Day. Since it fell right before the birth of his son."
"Time, and new joy," concluded Ereinion thoughtfully. "That is all that it took, for a survivor of Gondolin to recover enough to appreciate Longest Day again."
"Ereinion . . ." protested Elrond, fighting tears again.
"Don't give up on us," Ereinion beseeched, "If you give us time, we will help you to find new things to be joyful about. We will never give up on you," he said again, quite adamant now.
"I know. Maybe, in time, I'll even be unreservedly glad, about that," allowed Elrond, with a bittersweet smile.
“You will,” Ereinion promised tenderly as he patted one of Elrond’s cheeks, “I would hardly let you do otherwise."
"Aren’t you bossy today?" laughed Elrond. It was easier, by far, to treat this moment lightly.
Ereinion played along, chuckling as he tugged on a lock of Elrond’s blue-black hair, "That's quite an indictment coming from the healer who once threatened to tie me to the bed if I didn't take it easy after getting hit by one little arrow."
"That's because you're a terrible patient, Ereinion."
"Lies and calumny. Now, come along, slugabed," Ereinion teased, with a fond slap to Elrond's left thigh, "Let's get you dressed and fed. I’ll braid your hair. Then we'll head for the market." He got off of Elrond, stood, and offered out his hand.
Elrond accepted the aid. Playing a hunch, he accused with a small smile, "So, what are my plans for tomorrow?"
"Hunting with me and your Sindarin cousins. Then surfing with me and my oath-brothers," supplied Ereinion, with an answering grin. He did not seem to feel in the least bit guilty about his presumption.
If Elros had still been around, Elrond would have been very happy with those plans. As it was, he was growing accustomed to the idea. He'd established a friendship of his own with Oropher and Vehiron, when they'd worked together as officers under Ereininon's command during the war. In those days, Elros had usually been with the Edain armies. Similarly, Elrond had developed his own separate relationships with Ereinion's oath-brothers, as they'd worked together to help Ereinion govern his kingdom since the end of the war. During those years, Elros had mostly been off ruling the Edain as they built their ships for sailing to the Island of the Gift.
Since it must have taken a great deal of effort for Ereinion to clear his own busy schedule for two days, Elrond offered, "It is good of you, to put yourself to such trouble."
"Almost anything for you, my dear cousin and friend," replied Ereinion. As he spoke, it was with fraternal love plain in his expressive hazel eyes. Then he threw his arm around Elrond and guided him in the direction of his dressing room.
In lieu of a reply, Elrond laid his head on Ereinion's shoulder as they walked. He decided that he could lean into his foster-brother's strength. At least until it didn’t hurt so much, to be alone in Lindon, without Elros.
Ereinion's arm around his cousin’s shoulders tightened and he pressed a brotherly kiss against the side of Elrond's head. As if to say that he was glad, that Elrond was choosing to rely on him.