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darksideofthemamon · 2 days ago

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4 Times Calarphain Forgot His Brother + 1 Time He Didn’t

Had this sitting in my WIPs for a while, decided to share it for @tolkienocweek Day 7: Freeform!

Summary: Like it says in the title, a collection of times Calarphain forgot his brother, and one time he didn't. You can read this other fic for more context, but the gist is that they grew up away from each other with no contact and now have opposing personalities! Relationships: Callonduin & Calarphain Warnings: Referenced character death, hurt/comfort some angst

Letters

It was all very hazy for Calarphain. The elfling woke up to see his father (looking so worried) and Lady Galadriel (she was so radiant and kind), sitting by his bedside. He couldn’t recall much before that.

He took one step, then another; a healer came in every day to check his progress. He was slowly getting better, well enough to take short walks.

He huffed one more time, finally reaching the end of the hall. That was enough for his daily walk. Now it was time to return to his bedchamber and– what was it father said? Write a letter to his twin brother? It was a little strange for Calarphain to imagine that somewhere out there was an elfling who looked exactly like him.

Before he could turn, he caught sight of the Lady of Lórien entering the courtyard. He was immediately excited. He liked Galadriel, she was so kind and beautiful, and even better, she was to mentor him soon!

He called out to her. “Lady Galadriel!!”

The Lady’s serene face turned into a fond smile. She met him halfway, and the two of them spent the rest of the day sitting under the eaves as she told him tales of her youth.

2. Birthdays

It was a time of feast in Lothlórien. Tonight, they celebrated Calarphain’s coming of age. There was dancing, and cakes, and all of his friends were here. His father made sure the wine was sweet, just like Calarphain liked it. Galadriel gave the toast, recounting the fateful day her apprentice arrived in their realm. Mithrandir brought his best fireworks and promised Calarphain he’d one day instruct him in magic. Calarphain was excited, he wanted to have a staff like Mithrandir’s one day!

As he giddily downed another glass of wine, he overheard a conversation over the sound of the music.

“My parents always said it would be like this. You blink, then suddenly they’re grown."

It was Celebrían, Galadriel’s daughter who was visiting from Rivendell. Calarphain always enjoyed her company and was delighted she could be here for the celebration.

“I often feared he wouldn’t live to come of age.” It was his father speaking. He sounded sad and a little sloshed. Calarphain shook his head fondly. His ada was always so sentimental!

“I’ve enjoyed watching them grow. They’re both doing very well, both highly praised in Lothlórien and Imladris.

Both? Who’s both?

Mithrandir lit up another rocket, sending a kaleidoscope into the sky. Calarphain joined the crowd in applause. He figured Celebrían was talking about her own twin sons.

3. Diet

Calarphain stoked the campfire, focusing on making a bigger flame. He could use magic to speed up the process, but he was trying to distract himself from the sound of Kíli skinning and gutting a rabbit.

“That looks good,” he heard Fíli say. “What will we have it with?”

“There’s some spices here that Bombur packed for us,” Kíli replied.

“Callonduin’s been gone for a while now,” Tauriel stated as she paced the camp, ever vigilant. “He took Linnéa with him.”

“Yeah, I needed a second pair of eyes.” Everyone turned to the ellon in question as he dropped down from the branches above, bearing with him a heavy sack. Shortly after, Linnéa emerged from the treeline, carrying an assortment of herbs. “Just to make sure I don’t accidentally kill us,” the ellon continued with a cheeky smile. “Oh! A fire!”

Calarphain had been trying to avoid his brother so far. Ever since they set out, it was like every interaction they had turned into an argument. Actually, they’d argued even before leaving Erebor. It was awkward to say the least, so Calarphain tried to keep his distance.

It seemed Callonduin didn’t have such reservations as he spiritedly plopped down next to his brother. “Yes! Get it nice and hot! Then we can roast the nuts.”

“The nuts?”

“Ah yeah, I went foraging.” Callonduin reached into his sack, producing an assortment of fruits, berries, and nuts. “Figured you could use some extra, especially since you don’t like eating animals.”

Calarphain murmured his thanks, taken aback by such a nice gesture coming from his brother. “This is very thoughtful of you.”

Callonduin waved off the compliment with a lopsided grin. “Do you still like chestnuts? I remember how we used to pick them all the time in Rivendell.”

Calarphain loved chestnuts, but he didn’t remember Rivendell.

4. Song

That last battle hadn’t gone well. They nearly got overpowered by the swarm of goblins, only making it out of the lair by the skin of their teeth. The stormy weather wasn’t helping. It was a good thing a kind farmer let them sleep in his barn.

Calarphain winced. The cut on his arm was beginning to hurt. He’ll ask Linnéa for pain medicine tomorrow; he didn’t want to wake his tired friend just yet.

In the darkness, someone began to sing. It was low and melodious, its words in Sindarin. He got up and walked to its source.

He found Callonduin sitting where Fíli lay nestled in blankets. The dwarf prince had contracted a fever and tossed fitfully in his sleep. The ellon paused his singing when he saw his twin approach.

“I guess I woke you.”

Calarphain shook his head and whispered, so as not to wake their friends. “That sounded beautiful.”

“It’s a song of healing,” Callonduin shrugged. “Or, it’s supposed to be. I don’t know if it’s working.”

“Well, I liked it.” Calarphain took a seat next to his brother. “It doesn't sound familiar. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it in Lothlórien before.”

“That’s ‘cus this is native to the healers of Rivendell,” Callonduin explained, his smile faltering slightly. “I used to sing it for you when we were little.”

“Oh…” Calarphain felt a pit in his stomach. “I’m afraid those days are hazy to me. Probably why I don’t remember the song.”

Callonduin nodded, aware of his brother’s condition. Calarphain felt his twin’s solemn look didn’t suit him. That face was made for smiling.

“Teach it to me anyway? Maybe it’ll work with two of us.”

(Interlude)

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to say, but I felt you deserved to know.” Calarphain wrung his hands, eyes fixed on the river infront of him. He had called his brother to the outskirts of town in order to talk. He had to come clean, this couldn’t go on any longer.

“That’s never a good start.” Though Callonduin replied with an easy tone, Calarphain knew of his brother’s tendency to use humor to avoid difficult conversations.

The light-haired twin sighed. Callonduin got the message and sat next to him.

“What’s up?”

“My earliest memory is waking up in Lothlórien with father and Lady Galadriel watching over me. Everything before that was lost to the haze of sickness.”

Callonduin nodded, prompting his brother to continue.

“You resent that I never visited you all these years, that I barely wrote.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You were sick, I get it–”

“No,” Calarphain quickly interrupted, “you need to know why. You need to know, when I woke up, it was like I was given a new lease on life. I had a new home, new friends, powers I didn’t understand. Galadriel herself offered to mentor me. I had a new life, and the world seemed so big, so limitless, I–” he choked midway through his sentence. Callonduin placed a hand on his shoulder, concerned for the younger twin.

“I knew you existed,” Calarphain continued, “father told me about you. But in light of my new life, I suppose I wasn’t… interested in what I had before. Everything else seemed new and exciting. I was so preoccupied with it that I suppose I… forgot about you.” And there it was, finally out in the open.

There was a second of silence, followed by several more. Neither twin said anything until Callonduin finally smacked his lips together.

“Well,” he said once more with the casual tone he was known for. “Thanks for telling me this. Good talk. I’ll go now.” He moved to stand, but Calarphain grabbed his sleeve.

“Callonduin, wait!”

“No, I get it.” Though Callonduin shrugged off his twin’s protests, he avoided his gaze, and Calarphain knew his brother was ready to break. “Everything else was more exciting– I mean you had Galadriel as a mentor. Why bother with me–”

“Callonduin– no! Look at me, please!” Calarphain gripped his brother’s shoulders and forced the older twin to face him. Callonduin met his gaze, identical blue eyes boring into his own.

“What I’m trying to say is, it wasn’t your fault. I knew you existed, but didn’t make the effort to reach out. Even when I was well enough to, I didn’t visit simply because I wanted to do other things. I knew father and I left you to grow up alone, but I never cared to do anything about it. Do you understand what I’m saying? You weren’t lacking, Callonduin. I just wasn’t considerate enough to think about you. I took you for granted. I still sometimes do. I’m sorry.”

Calarphain brought his hands back down to his sides. Now it was his turn to look away. “That’s all. I wanted you to know it wasn’t your fault.”

Callonduin stood still the whole while, taking in his brother’s confession. Tears glistened in his eyes and he swallowed a number of times, throat tight.

When he spoke, his voice was raw and soft. “Wish I could turn back time. Make it right somehow.”

Calarphain shook his head. “I wouldn’t put that on you.” What’s done is done. Callonduin was neglected, and nothing would change that. “For what it’s worth, I’ve been enjoying our time together. I’m glad I went on this journey and got to know you. It makes me wish I had you around growing up.”

“Yeah?” Callonduin sniffled, rubbing at his eyes before tears could fall. “Well, I’m here now!”

“You are,” Calarphain laughed, looking back at his twin, “and I’d like to make more memories, if you’re up for it. To replace what we lost.”

“Oh! We can go to Rivendell, if you like. We could stay in father’s house, I’ll show you around. My favorite spots– ah!-- the minstrels play some really good songs…”

Calarphain smiled, excited at the prospect of returning to his birthplace with his brother. “I’d like that very much.”

He never made it to Rivendell.

+ One time he didn’t

When Calarphain woke up after being re-embodied, he found himself in the blessed land of Valinor. Just like before, his father was by his bedside. The two of them shared a tearful reunion…

… Until Calarphain found out that shortly after he died, his father sailed, leaving Callonduin alone in Middle Earth.

“How could you do that?!” he cried, tearful Sindarin pouring out of his lips. “How could you leave him alone?!”

The good thing about being re-embodied? The Valar saw it fit to grant him a healthy fëa and hröa, meaning Calarphain had a much stronger body than before.

He hurled a pillow at his father, missing, and breaking a vase in the process. Concerned healers slowly trickled into the room.

“Did you forget about him?! Did you forget that he needs you too?!”

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