Lord Elrond of Rivendell stood on the terrace outside of his bed chamber, looking out over his fair city. Imladris was small, comprised mostly of his palace, known as the Last Homely House, the river and waterfall, and the smaller dwellings of his other people. It was a realm of safety and of peace, for both those who lived there and those who passed through. Elrond's doors were open to all friendly folk regardless of race and had been since he had founded it many, many years ago.

Today, however, someone in Elrond's house was without peace. He could feel it, like a slight disturbance in the air. He supposed this was because the restless being was his own son, Elladan. Something had been bothering Elladan for a while, Elrond knew, and he had hoped his son would bring his problems to him. However, Elladan seemed to possess some sense of pride that held him back, something that was not as evident in his twin brother Elrohir or their sister Arwen who came easily to him with their woes, occasionally more than Elrond would have liked.

Perhaps that pride came from his mother, Elrond mused. Celebrían had sailed over the seas to Valinor several hundred years ago, but all of them missed her still. Elrond would have done anything to convince her to stay, but his wife had been lost to him in spirit. He kept in his heart the knowledge that one day they would be reunited in Valinor, and perhaps by then Celebrían would be once more the maiden he had fallen in love with so very long ago instead of the empty shell of an elf that had sailed into the west.

He wondered if Celebrían could have any idea how much her family suffered in her absence. Arwen was motherless and took to spending more and more time with her grand-mother, Galadriel, in Lothlórien. Elladan and Elrohir almost never stayed long in Rivendell any more. Instead they rode out in all directions, hunting and killing the orcs that had tortured their mother and driven her out of Middle-earth. Elrond missed their company more than he ever told them.

Now his sons were home, and his daughter was expected to arrive from Lórien any day. This brought great joy to Elrond's heart, but that Elladan was troubled. He wondered if it would not be best to go and speak frankly to the boy. Boy? No, Elladan had not been a child for a very long time... but he would always be Elrond's child. He simply seemed so young to one as ancient as Elrond. The Lord of Imladris absently twisted the large ring on his forefinger as he silently debated with himself.

When he looked down from his balcony, Elrond could see the large front terrace and stairs that led into the main foyer of the palace. Elladan was standing on the stairs, looking off into the distance over the river. His long, dark hair was lifted on the wind, flying like a banner around his head. His posture was noble and straight, but he seemed still to hold an aura of deep sadness.

Had Elrond not been so sensitive to the fact that Elladan had something on his mind, and had he also not known that Elladan had worn a green tunic that morning and Elrohir had worn a purple one, even he might not have been able to tell his twin sons apart at this distance. It was odd even for him to see one of them separate from the other. After all, they were together constantly. He wondered vaguely where Elrohir was and hoped he was not causing some sort of trouble among Elrond's guests.

There were always guests at the Last Homely House. Welcoming travelers was an excellent way of keeping up to date on news and information, Elrond had found. At the moment there were two wizards, six Dwarves and a large party of elves from the Grey Havens staying with him. Tonight there would be a feast, as there often was. Elrond hoped the feast would be to welcome his daughter home, but it was difficult to predict when Arwen would arrive.

Elrond turned and entered his bed chamber, having decided that he should make an attempt to speak to Elladan. A small staircase took him down to the first floor and he walked quickly through the foyer, passing several elves on the way. He nodded to them in greeting, then stepped outside. Elladan was still there, but he did not turn around.

"Good afternoon, Father," he said in an emotionless voice.

Elrond stepped up beside his son. "Good afternoon, Elladan."

For several minutes they both fell silent. The midsummer sun was floating low in the hazy sky. It would set in a few hours, but meanwhile it gave Rivendell a warm glow. It kissed the water and the trees and added a shine to Elladan's glossy hair. Elladan turned towards Elrond questioningly, with grey eyes so like his own that it struck him. All of the children favored him, Elrond thought. Maybe it was best. Had one been in the image of Celebrían it would have made her loss all the more difficult.

"Is there something you wish of me, Father?" Elladan asked politely. Elrond could see behind the question. His son wanted to be left alone. Simply asking him what was wrong would result only in a polite denial.

"Where is Elrohir?" Elrond asked lightly, trying to ease his way.

"I believe he went riding with Lord Glorfindel."

"And you did not wish to accompany them."

"No."

"Ah."

"I thought someone should wait for Arwen," Elladan said.

"You might have gone if you wished. I assure you, someone would have welcomed Arwen in," Elrond said teasingly. Elladan looked at him warily.

"I did not feel like riding today. I spend enough time on horseback as it is."

"Elladan," Elrond said, drawing in a deep breath, "It seems to me that something has distressed you."

"I am fine, Father." The expected reaction. Elrond had known Elladan would not confess his troubles easily. He found himself frowning.

"I do not like to see any of my children in pain," Elrond said. "You do not hide it as well as you think, Elladan."

"I am hiding nothing," Elladan insisted, but his grey eyes were wounded.

Elrond sighed inwardly. "I just want you to know that there is nothing of which you cannot speak with me."

"I know that," Elladan replied softly. He turned his gaze away, staring out into the distance once more. Elrond clapped his son on the shoulder and turned and went back inside. He only hoped that Elladan would come to him eventually. Now was clearly not the right time.