Choke

Mellow Soulmate AU.  One cannot hope to save everyone, no matter how much they wish to try.  All Sindarin names here, except Lómiel, which is definitely a play off the Quenya mother-name Lómion.  Because, yes, she is Maeglin reborn into a female body.  If you don't know, read "Cleansed" and "Life".  "Scowl" is also rather recommended as well.  This blurb, however, takes place in Imladis probably in the late Third Age, maybe just before the War of the Ring (the reprise).

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion or the Lord of the Rings

Pairings: Elladan x Fem Maeglin

Characters: Maeglin (female), Elladan, Elrohir (alludes to Idril, Celebrían, Arwen and Elrond)

Warning: non-canon compliant, Rule 63!Maeglin, non-canon pairings, personal interpretation of the twins, implied past non-con and not-quite character death

Song: Ricordando il Passato

Words: 1,310
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choke (verb): to check or block normal breathing of by compressing or obstructing the trachea or by poisoning or adulterating available air; to check or hinder the growth, development, or activity of; to become or feel constricted in the throat (as from strong emotion)
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/choke

"Something about you has changed, brother."

Truly, Lómiel hated it when they fought.

"To what you refer, I could not say, Elrohir.  Speak not in riddles!"  Elladan sounded so frustrated and vexed as he faced off against his sibling, closest kin in blood and spirit, with confusion.  He did not understand, was too close to focus upon the picture of their rotting bond to understand.

She hated that it was she who came between them.

Each day she spent in the gardens of Imladris--holding hands with Elladan and speaking in soft voices, laughing in the twilight hours with the gentle blades of grass underfoot and the scent of rose upon the air--each day they grew closer and closer.  Their strange bond of comradeship and friendship absorbing more and more sun, twining more powerfully and inexorably toward a resplendent season of blooming.

To the point where Lómiel knew that she loved him dearly, more than ever had she loved any other.  Knew that she could never release him from her tight grasp lest she fall into ruination for a second time.

And each day, as she fell further and further in love with the silver flecks in his darkened eyes and the rare dimples lining the corners of his lips, Elladan seemed to grow happier and more content.  Something beautiful and warm seemed to slowly seep back beneath the new-fallen pallor of his drawn skin, giving back that damask flush of health and thriving as he released the putrid, disease-ridden burden of hatred and vengeance so prominent in his blood and bone.

Life was being born beneath that skin, within the core of that soul.  And it was breathtaking.

"Have you taken leave of your senses, Elladan?  Have you forgotten?"

But all the same, she stood at his side and stayed silent about the truth of the matter as the twin brothers squared off against one another.  That, as Elladan began to tower up into the sky, Elrohir began to wither without the sunlight.  Out of balance in a way they never had been.

"I have forgotten nothing!"

So close had been their bond, forged in the playful years of their youth in peace and sunshine and the long, restless millennia of their suffering in the ravages of the past.  Rare was it to see them apart from one another or in discord with one another.  Rare and saddening above all else.

Because it was unraveling, that bond.  Each moment spent at her side drew her Elladan closer to Lómiel's breast and further from the confidence and care of his younger brother.  Strengthened the love that was bringing them both back from the brink of complete despair and hopelessness, giving them something pure to cling upon in the coming darkness upon the horizon.  But left Elrohir in the wake of their passage, stumbling in the dark without so much as a candle's flame to show their footsteps left imprinted upon the dark earth.

The newly-born romance and the brotherly bond were not compatible.  Like water and fire, they met in the middle, clashing into chaos, erupting in frustration and a shower of blinding steam scalding the flesh.

"Then explain to me why!  Why do you smile and dance with her?  Why do you dare to make revelry when you should feel guilt?"

Lómiel only wanted him to heal.  Wanted Elladan to move on from the darkest era of his life and embrace a future.  Perhaps it was selfish on her part, for she knew that if he lingered she would lose all hope of one day holding him within her arms and kissing tenderly his lips in the way of a wife to her husband--a woman to her lover.

Elrohir, likewise, grasped tightly to his brother's hand and pulled in the opposite direction.  The younger brother desired companionship--the trust and closeness the pair had shared since their tenure within their mother's womb--and he did not want to surrender his self-hatred or his lust to wreak havoc upon those who carried the blame for his personal tragedy.  He did not want to heal, but neither did he want Elladan to leave him behind.

She hated that Elladan would be forced to choose.  To let her stitch closed his wounds and forget about hunting down the enemy in penitence.  Or to go on falling into the abyss that was the never-ending curse of vindictiveness.

"Is that what this is about?  My love for Lómiel?" He stood between them now--his brother and his lover--but Lómiel could well imagine the black look upon that beloved face.

Imagined it matched the twisted visage overshadowing Elrohir's handsome features.

"That woman has made you forget everything you ought never!  She has made you betray yourself and your oaths!"

With sorrow, she realized that her bond was growing out of control, spilling over the edges and taking up all the energy the sun had to give.  That each day Elladan spent with her in the gardens, fawning and speaking and flirting until his spirit was light and trilling as a soaring melody upon the sky, his bond with Elrohir was choked in the blackness beneath, dying slowly the most agonizing of demises.

They were drifting apart, ripping at the seams.  Until now.  Until all the silent resentment culminating into something vicious and destructive boiled over.  Something sharp and adamant, slicing their strong bonds apart and leaving them completely separated by principle and choice and passion.

One clinging to the past, one looking to the future.  No longer could they coincide harmoniously.

"Please, fight not..." Her hand clasped about Elladan's upper arm just as he took a step towards his twin brother in menace. "Please, Elladan..."

He froze, turned to look upon her with slightly widened eyes.   But even as he stared, the narrowed edges of his dark lashes relaxed, a certain sort of softness coming over the ice in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw when he looked upon her in affection.  A look that made her warm to the bone in undeniable pleasure.

But she then looked at Elrohir over her love's broad shoulders, and any warmth in her blood died a cruel and swift death at the razor-edges of the daggers in the younger brother's eyes.  When the other twin looked upon her, it was with malice and disdain, a dark sort of dislike that was outlined in the very cant of his spirit, in every corner of his body and every set of his lithe bones.

There was a scoff, and the younger spun upon his heels.  Walked away without another word and left them alone, Lómiel shaking and clutching at Elladan's arm for support.

Her heart aching and pounding in her throat.  Cutting off the air.

For, in helping one she had only further sickened the other.  So easily could their places have been exchanged--could her Elladan have been the soul left out in the cold and the snow to die of exposure whilst the other huddled by the warmth of a stoked hearth with a full belly and arms filled to the brim with blessings--that Lómiel felt literally ill with fright.

She only wanted to help.

But she could not help Elrohir because he would not help himself, not as his brother had.  She could only look up into Elladan's eyes and hope he would forgive her for the ruin befalling his crippled family.  For thrusting herself between him and his closest of kin, his twin brother.

Only hope that there might be some reconciliation in the end.
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I am not in the mood for being long and lyrical.  I'm actually very tired and, because I've been busy literally all day, this is out late once again.  I am trying, really, but sometimes it's just a lot to belt out when I have three labs to prepare for on top of regular homework and my job.

Nonetheless, as you can see, plot development!  It at least gave me a couple of new ideas of where to take these sub-arcs to.  Maybe do something with the twins during the actual LotR plot.  In any case, we'll see.

The song is Ricordando il Passato sung in Italian (I believe) by Akiko Shikata.  So you could say that I discovered a new artist today. :3.  In any case, the lyrics struck me as somehow being related to the story.  If they're not to you, forgive me, my mind functions strangely when I'm tired and bingeing on Kuroshitsuji to avoid physics homework.  So no music rant today.

Cheers.