It was one of those nights. No matter what Elrohir did, he could not sleep. He tossed and turned and arranged his pillow countless different ways, but it did not help; sleep would not come. A beam of moonlight illuminated his brother in the other bed. Elladan was already in the land of dreams, and had been since he was first tucked in. Every night they would brush their teeth, wash their faces and put on their nightshirts. Then they would climb into bed and wait for their naneth. Celebrían would walk through the door carrying a large book, their favorite one, the one with pictures. For the next half-hour, her soft voice would lull them to sleep as she read their favorite stories.
Usually, they were deep in reverie before she finished, but tonight was different...at least for Elrohir...Maethor was missing!
Elrohir was worried. He had been afraid to tell his naneth, for he did not wish to be scolded. The last time Maethor was lost, he had been severely punished. He had intended to tell his parents that day after lunch that Maethor was missing, but in the excitement of play, he had forgotten. When he had finally remembered, chaos ensued. All of Imladris had joined the search until Maethor was located. That night Elrohir's parents had lectured him about responsibility and care. It was not enough to love someone, they said, you must also look after them, make sure they are safe. To reinforce that lesson, Elrohir had been sent to his room, grounded. While Elladan played in the sunshine the next day, Elrohir had only been able to watch from the window. And now, Maethor was missing...again!
Maethor was his best friend, but there were times the old warrior liked to be alone and Elrohir respected his wishes. Elrohir thought today was one of those days, for Maethor did not seek him out as usual. He was sad, but he knew Maethor usually came home for dinner; but by dusk, Maethor had not returned. Elrohir sighed. He could not help but worry about his warrior. He had known him a long time, ever since he first remembered.
Warrior's hair was not as shiny as it used to be, and his legs were crooked, so he had a hard time walking. Lindir said that was because he was old and old elves sometimes wore out. Elrohir hoped that it would be awhile before *he* wore out. He said so to Lindir, but Lindir only laughed. Lindir was his and Elladan's music tutor, and their best friend. Lindir was neither stuffy like Lord Erestor, nor stern like Lord Glorfindel. Lindir was nice and always, always happy. He had the most beautiful voice in the whole world and he could sing like a nightingale. At least that was what their naneth said. Elrohir had never heard a nightingale.
Tears filled his eyes. Warrior used to be fierce and brave, but as he aged his body betrayed him and he lost many of the skills he once had. When Elrohir first met him, he had a finely carved bow. But one day the bow disappeared. Elrohir and Maethor looked for it everywhere, but could not find it. Warrior was very upset; even Elrohir could not comfort him. Ada said Warrior would not get another one, and that made Elrohir sad. And now tonight, Maethor was out there in the dark with no weapon for protection. What if he were attacked by orcs or carried away by wargs? What if he had fallen in a chasm and could not climb out? The more Elrohir thought of the dangers that warrior could face, the worse the scenario became. Warrior lying injured, calling out for help with no one there to hear him.
Elrohir jumped out of bed and ran over to Elladan. "Elly, wake up...Warrior is missing, we must find him!"
Elladan moaned sleepily, "W-What?"
"Warrior is missing, please, you must help!"
"Go back to sleep 'Ro," Elladan replied, still half asleep, "We will look for him in the morning."
"No, Elly, we must find him...now! Please?"
But Elladan had turned over and gone back to sleep, and try as he might, Elrohir could not wake him. He began to cry. He had to tell someone about Maethor; it would be his fault if the warrior was hurt or injured! Lindir was the only elf he could think of, maybe the minstrel would not tell his parents that Elrohir had again waited too late.
Elrohir crept from his room and walked silently down the hall. Opening the door to Lindir's room he peeked inside. Lindir was still dressed and was kneeling against the bed, his long white hair undone from its braids and...he was crying. Lindir's whole body shook with his sobs and Elrohir silently backed away and slipped from the room. It had to be Warrior, he thought. Something had happened to him...that was why Lindir was crying! Something bad has happened and it is my fault! I should have told someone, I should have told Ada!
Elrohir cried for Maethor and for himself. He knew he was in trouble again and would be punished. It would be ever so much worse this time! Why had he waited? What if warrior was dead! Elrohir ran back to his room, grabbed his pillow and blanket and crawled underneath his bed. They would not find him here; he would be safe. He prayed to the Valar, "Please let Maethor be all right". Curling up into a ball, he hugged his pillow tight and cried himself to sleep.
