@ghostsdontwalkhere | F r a u g h t (continued from[x])
The noise of quiet sobbing had attracted Elrohir further into the gardens as he passed them by on his way to the stables. He knew how it sounded when both Elladan and Arwen cried, and he could tell that it was neither of them, nor was it his father, or Glorfindel, or anyone else he counted among his family. He had no course of action in mind for what he would do should he find an acquaintance crying, and he anticipated himself turning on his heel and running away as soon as they looked at him.
To see Prince Legolas on the floor with tears marring his fair face could not be described as anything other than a shock to Elrohir. He stood completely still for a moment, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, searching the seen for blood or something else that might signal to him the cause of Legolas’s pain. His confusion only increased when he could not find an obvious reason, but it was oddly validating to see someone he admired so greatly in such a state, even though the scene before him hurt his heart, because shedding tears was not an uncommon occurrence for himself.
“Legolas?” he whispered almost tentatively, taking a few hurried steps forwards and sinking to his knees on the stone beside the Prince. He reached out a hand, making to touch Legolas’s arm, but he stopped himself before he could make contact. He held his brother and sister when they wept - this he knew how to do - but he was entirely unsure what sort of behavior was appropriate to engage in. “What ails you, my friend?”