Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

A/N: There is a slight deviation from canon in this story. Rather than having Arathorn slain when he was 'riding against the orcs with the sons of Elrond', I have assumed that Aragorn and Gilraen were with him and they were heading to Imladris to live for a time. In the Silmarillion it says 'In that house [the house of Elrond] were harboured the Heirs of Isildur, in childhood and old age, because of the kinship of their blood with Elrond himself…'. The quote continues, but this made me think that Aragorn would have been taken to Imladris for his own protection at some point, so why not when he was two? The twins are still there, acting as escort, but they were not out specifically to hunt orcs. I know that is not Tolkien's version, but I need things to happen a bit differently for this story to work. Therefore, this story can be considered slightly AU. I am also using a history created for Elladan and Elrohir by Cassia and Sio. I do have their permission to use Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen, which were their creations.

A/N 2: This story was inspired by the May/June Teitho prompt: 'If I could turn back time'. Unfortunately, the idea that popped into my head for that prompt was far too massive for a Teitho story. This story is unfinished at the moment, though I am working on it.

Please read and review. If you have any ideas for changes to the history of Middle-earth that you would like to suggest as the story progresses, please feel free to e-mail me at mistycracraft at yahoo.com and let me know what they are. If they fit well with other plot elements I have planned, I may use them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prologue

Aragorn laughed as Elrohir vehemently denied Elladan's accusation that it was all Elrohir's fault when they were caught smuggling a wild raccoon into the Last Homely House when they were mere elflings of thirty years. Aragorn loved hearing tales of the twin's early years. And he loved having his brothers visit. Now that he was king of Gondor and Arnor, he saw them all too seldom. However, with the arrival of Gondor's new crown prince, they had traveled from Imladris for an extended visit. They had arrived two weeks ago, in plenty of time for the birth of their nephew, and did not intend to leave for several more weeks. They were determined to help their brother and sister in this time of drastic change. Though neither twin had children of their own, they claimed that helping to raise Arwen and Estel made them experts in the art of child rearing. Aragorn had his doubts about that claim, but he was thoroughly enjoying their company, nonetheless. At the moment, the three of them were gathered in the sitting room that connected Elrohir's and Elladan's bedrooms. Arwen had kicked all three of them out of the royal quarters, claiming they made too much noise and were disturbing Eldarion. Aragorn suspected she was getting irritated with their constant hovering and wanted some time alone with her new son. Since following her wishes seemed the best course of action, the three of them had made a strategic retreat to the sitting room, where they were now sharing and comparing stories of their lives.

Chuckling as the debate raged on over an escapade thousands of years in the past, Aragorn stretched out and slouched down in his very comfortable chair. Letting his mind wander, Aragorn found his thoughts drifting to the people he had known in his life, those that were still with him, and those who had not lived to see this day. Thinking about those that had passed on sobered Aragorn quickly and he found himself dwelling on his regrets, all the things that he wished he could have changed, if only he had known about them beforehand.

"Aragorn?" Aragorn's head came up as he heard his name and he looked back and forth between the twins, wondering which one had spoken.

"I asked whose story you believed," Elrohir said with a twinkle in his eye. His expression became serious as he saw the expression on Aragorn's face. "You were not listening, were you?" He shook his head as Aragorn opened his mouth to apologize. "It is not important. What are you thinking about?"

Aragorn sighed, trying to pull his thoughts into some semblance of order. He straightened up in his seat as he thought of what to say. "I cannot explain it, but I found myself thinking about my father." He glanced up at them. "My human father, Arathorn, not Elrond. Though I never truly knew him, I find that in this moment, having just become a father myself, there is so much that I wish he could have seen, could have known. He never saw me grow up, never knew the man I became. So much happened in my life, for me personally and as the heir to the throne. I know that he would be proud that Sauron was defeated and the kingdom restored, but I don't know what he would have thought of me, of my life here, of Eldarion. I would have liked to know my father, to have him in my life and the life of my son."

The twins glanced at each other, a look passing between them that said all they needed to say. In unison, they turned back to Aragorn. Elrohir was the first to speak.

"Your father would have been very proud of you, Aragorn. Not just for the defeat of Sauron and the reuniting of the kingdoms, but he would have been very proud of you for who you are. Had the ring not resurfaced and had you lived out the remainder of your life as he did, as the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, still he would have been proud of you. You are everything he had hoped you would become, Aragorn."

Elladan took up where Elrohir left off. "Arathorn was a close friend of ours, Aragorn. Though I do not claim that I knew his thoughts on every matter, I do know that he loved you intensely. We had many discussions after you were born on what his hopes and dreams were for you and your life. You have lived up to and surpassed them all, Aragorn. In the end, though, he only wanted you to be happy, whether or not you ever became king. He long felt that he would not live to see you grown to full manhood. The fear of what would happen to you in his absence gave him many sleepless nights. Long before he was killed, he asked us to promise to protect you and Gilraen should the worst come to pass."

"It was because of this promise that you brought me to Imladris?" Aragorn asked, not having heard this before.

Elladan glanced at Elrohir a moment before looking back to Aragorn. "In part, though we would have done so anyway. We have never told you much about the day your father died, not wanting to stir frightful memories that once disturbed your sleep with dreadful nightmares." Elladan hesitated, not knowing whether he should tell the tale now, but Elrohir picked it up.

"You, your parents, and a group of the Dúnedain were heading to Imladris. Your father was bringing you and your mother there to live in safety from the forces of evil. We had traveled out to meet and escort your group back to Imladris. On our way home, we were attacked by a large group of orcs. The battle was fierce, and many brave men fell. One orc had hidden in the shadows out of the way of the others and shot the arrow that felled your father. By the end of the battle, few beyond the two of us, you and Gilraen were left alive. All the men there had sought to keep the two of you safe. You had been pulled quickly out the way of the fighting and hidden away, though you saw far too much of the battle. Those few men who were left alive agreed to let us take you and your mother to Imladris in secret, allowing your enemies to believe that all three of you had been killed in that battle. They kept the secret of your continued existence from everyone." When Aragorn was silent for a long moment, Elrohir called his name hesitantly.

Aragorn looked up and met his eyes. "Thank you for telling me this. It has helped." A long pause preceded a deep sigh. "I only wish that I could have known him. If I could but turn back time…" He glanced up quickly at the twins. "You know I have no complaints about my childhood. I had as close to an ideal childhood as any boy could have had, with Naneth, Adar, and the two of you, but I cannot help but wonder what my life would have been like if Arathorn had lived. If I were being taken to live in Imladris at the age of two anyway, I still would have had you and Adar with me. I do not think things would have been so different between us. I just wish…" Another sigh escaped him, and the twins exchanged a concerned glance. They did not like to see Aragorn dwelling on things that could not be changed. Glancing back up at them, Aragorn gave a brief, wry smile as he relaxed back into his chair. "Enough of my regrets. If you had the power to change one thing in your lives, what would it be?"

"Naneth," the twins said simultaneously. That was the event that had nearly destroyed them so many centuries ago. When they were unable to save their mother from torment at the hands of those foul creatures, they had declared vengeance against all orcs and had made hunting orcs their lives. In some twisted way, they had felt that by bathing the land and their souls in the blood of orcs, they could relieve their guilt and pain. It was a strategy that had not worked. They had nearly lost themselves in their quest for the death of all the orcs who roamed Arda. The arrival of a two-year-old Aragorn had helped to pull them back from their pain. In him was a small innocent child who needed their love and protection. Their hearts melted each time he laughed or held his arms up to them, asking to be held or carried. He became their little brother in everything but blood, and they loved him dearly. Though they had known and befriended most of Aragorn's ancestors who had been raised in Imladris, none of those children had touched their hearts like little Estel. He had been not only the hope of men, but also the return of their own hope. But if they could go back in time and keep their naneth safe, away from the orcs, then she would never have sailed to Valinor, and they would never have come so close to the edge in the first place.

Aragorn nodded at their answer, asking no further questions. They had spoken enough of her and their feelings about the events surrounding her capture and sailing that he well knew their minds and feelings on this subject. Sensing that things had gotten much too serious, Aragorn changed the subject abruptly, reminding the twins of one of the pranks they had all played on Legolas during one of his visits. The three brothers talked and laughed many more hours, late into the night before, one by one, they fell asleep in their chairs.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the three slept, a form emerged from the shadows. "So, you wish you could change the past, do you?" a soft whisper filled the room. "If given the opportunity, you may come to regret that wish. However, that is not my decision. Let us see what you would do with such a chance."

The figure knelt between the twins and raised a hand toward each of them. A soft glow emanated from the hands extended toward the elves and grew to envelop the two sleeping forms. The bodies of the sleeping elves vanished from where they lay. Once that was done, the form turned to Aragorn, and repeated his gesture. Again, the glow enveloped his sleeping form and he vanished from sight. The figure stepped back and faded away, leaving the room empty.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elrohir looked wildly around, trying to find something familiar in the darkness. There was nothing to be seen. Blackness surrounded him, broken by nothing, not even his own elven glow. Where was he? The last thing he remembered, he had been in the sitting room with Elladan and Aragorn, and then he had fallen asleep. What was happening?

"Elladan? Aragorn? Is anyone there?"

"Elrohir?" a voice identical to his own answered.

"Elladan?" Elrohir called out. "Where are you? Where are we?"

"I know not where we are, but I'm right here."

"Right where?" Elrohir asked in frustration, sweeping his hands out blindly in front of him, searching for his brother.

"Ouch!" Elladan exclaimed when Elrohir's hand smacked into his face.

"Sorry," Elrohir said as he caught hold of Elladan's shoulder. "Aragorn?" he called out, hoping to track down his little brother as well. There was no response. Wherever they were, apparently Aragorn was not with them.

"What's going on?" Elrohir asked his older brother.

"I wish I knew," Elladan replied, unsettled by their current circumstances.

"You have been given a chance few are ever given." An unknown voice spoke out of the darkness.

"What chance?" Elladan asked, turning in a circle to try to locate the source of the voice. "What is this you speak of?"

"You have expressed a desire to change events of the past. You will be given the chance to do just that. The two of you are being sent back into the past. As elves, your bodies do not age, so you are being sent back to take the place of your younger selves from that time period. All of the memories and experiences you have had will be retained. All that you know now, you will remember. Be careful about what you change and who you tell, though. Even small changes in time can have great and powerful consequences. Whatever you change, you will have to live with the consequences. Remember that. Now go."

With that confusing statement, the twins suddenly found themselves falling endlessly into the darkness. Their conscious thoughts fled and they knew no more.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aragorn found himself floating in an endless void of nothing but darkness.

"Elladan? Elrohir? Anyone?" he called out. His voice was quickly swallowed up in the suffocating darkness around him, and only silence answered him back.

He was unsure how long he remained that way before he heard an unfamiliar voice speak.

"You are being given a chance to revisit the past, and change what you see fit. Since you are a human, and the change you wish to affect happened when you were only a small child, it will not be possible to send your physical body back into the past to replace your younger self. Instead, your mind will be sent back to inhabit the body of another. This person will still be alive, but be suppressed by your mind."

"I refuse to do that to anyone!" Aragorn exclaimed at the thought of taking over another person's body.

"You have no choice in the matter. It would cause too much damage to time to have two versions of your physical body in the same place. And, I would assume that you would prefer not to be sent to inhabit your own body. It would be an abomination of nature to have the mind of a man in the body of a small child. This is the only viable choice. Keep in mind, though, that with each of your choices, you shape and create the world you live in. Every action has consequences, and you will have to live with those consequences."

"Where are my brothers?" Aragorn asked suddenly. They had been with him before he found himself in this void. He had to know if they were safe and back at the Citadel. If they woke up to discover him missing, they would turn Minas Tirith upside down to find him. Though he did not think that they would find him in such a search.

"They have been set upon a path of their own," the voice replied. "Though they have also been sent back into the past, do not expect to encounter the brothers you know now. You will each be sent back into a different version of the past. All choices up to your arrival will be the same as they were before. Events will only happen differently if you cause them to happen differently."

"But what if I do not want to do this?" Aragorn asked desperately. While he would love the chance to save his father, which was what he assumed was happening, he certainly did not want to take the place of another person.

"You have no choice," the voice repeated.

Suddenly, Aragorn felt himself falling, and the shock of the fall and what was happening stole all conscious thought from him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

A/N: There is a slight deviation from canon in this story. Rather than having Arathorn slain when he was 'riding against the orcs with the sons of Elrond', I have assumed that Aragorn and Gilraen were with him and they were heading to Imladris to live for a time. In the Silmarillion it says 'In that house [the house of Elrond] were harboured the Heirs of Isildur, in childhood and old age, because of the kinship of their blood with Elrond himself…'. The quote continues, but this made me think that Aragorn would have been taken to Imladris for his own protection at some point, so why not when he was two? The twins are still there, acting as escort, but they were not out specifically to hunt orcs. I know that is not Tolkien's version, but I need things to happen a bit differently for this story to work. Therefore, this story can be considered slightly AU. I am also using a history created for Elladan and Elrohir by Cassia and Sio. I do have their permission to use Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen, which were their creations.

Please read and review. If you have any ideas for changes to the history of Middle-earth that you would like to suggest as the story progresses, please feel free to e-mail me at mistycracraft at yahoo.com and let me know what they are. If they fit well with other plot elements I have planned, I may use them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter One

Elladan sat up abruptly in his bed, his heart racing and his mind whirling. What had just happened? He closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his breathing. What an odd dream! Getting control over his breathing and heart rate, he opened his eyes and looked around in surprise. What was going on? He was in his bedroom in Imladris, when he well knew that he had fallen asleep in a sitting room in Minas Tirith. How had he gotten all the way back to Imladris? The words of the bodiless voice echoed in his mind and his eyes widened. Had he been sent back to the past? That was a preposterous thought, but it was the only one that might explain how he had gotten to Imladris. Throwing aside the covers, he jumped out of bed and ran out of his bedroom, barging into Elrohir's room without knocking. His brother was still sleeping, his features still and calm.

"El!" Elladan sat down on the side of his brother's bed and shook him awake none too gently.

Elrohir flung a hand out toward Elladan to swat him away as if he were an annoying insect. Elladan saw the hand coming this time and caught it before it could connect with his face. "Not this time, muindor. I probably already have a bruise from the last time you hit me."

That comment brought Elrohir suddenly awake. He sat up and stared at his brother in shock. Looking at Elladan, he could see the faint outline of a bruise under his brother's eye. "That was real?" Glancing around, he saw that they were back in Imladris. "How did we get here?"

Elladan shook his head in confusion. "I don't know. I remember falling asleep in Minas Tirith and waking up in my bed down the hall. My only thought is that we have indeed been sent back into the past to take the place of our younger selves."

Elrohir looked around the room, looking for anything different about his room. He noticed immediately that the small carvings made for him by a young Estel were missing from their places of honor on a shelf across the room. "El," he pointed to the shelf, which now held some of his own childhood treasures as it had not for nearly a century. Elladan followed his finger to look at the shelf. He understood the ramifications of that small detail as well as Elrohir did.

"So it is true, then. We are back in the past." Elladan's voice was soft as he tried to figure out what to do next.

"It would seem so," Elrohir mused. He turned his eyes back to catch Elladan's. "But when are we?"

"There seems to be but one way to find out." Elladan said. "We will have to get dressed and go downstairs. We will have to be very careful, though, not to let anyone know that there is anything odd. We cannot raise suspicions until we find out what is going on here."

Elrohir nodded in agreement. "Very well. You should go and get dressed. I will meet you in your room and we can head down to breakfast together. I do not know what we will be facing, but we will do it together."

With a nod, Elladan rose from the side of Elrohir's bed and left to go to his own room. By the time Elrohir got to Elladan's room, his brother was ready to go. Taking a fortifying deep breath and exchanging a look of trepidation, they headed downstairs to the dining room. Even knowing what they might be facing, they still stopped dead in their tracks and stared in shock when they saw Celebrían sitting between Arwen and Elrond at the table.

Elrohir could feel his heart racing in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. Though he had thought this might be a possibility, nothing could have prepared him to see his mother sitting there at the table as if nothing had ever happened. Looking at her eyes, he realized that nothing had happened to her yet. Her eyes were clear and filled with joy and love, not shadowed by pain and despair as they had been the last time he had seen her. Confusion and shock whirled through his mind, and he found himself unable to move, unable to even think.

Elladan was also shocked into stunned silence at the sight of their mother. Seeing the concerned look that his mother was giving them, Elladan nudged his brother and moved toward the table, trying to convince the others that nothing was wrong. Elrohir followed his lead and forced himself to move casually toward the table.

Celebrían looked intently at the faces of her sons as they sat down, apparently sensing that something was wrong. "Elladan, why is there a bruise on your face?"

Elladan forced himself to chuckle. "I made the mistake of trying to wake El up this morning when he was not yet ready to wake."

Arwen chuckled along with Elladan. She had been on the receiving end of unexpected wake up visits from Elladan and Elrohir both. They did not always come out on the winning end of those encounters. "Have you not learned better yet, Elladan?"

"Apparently not," Elladan said, frowning. "I must come up with a better strategy next time."

Elrohir rolled his eyes, falling easily into their long-standing banter. "Or, you could leave me to sleep and not wake me out of some quite lovely dreams."

"Where is the fun in that?" Elladan asked with a straight face.

"Children," Elrond's softly chiding voice brought their attention back to their father. "Would you care to eat, or would you prefer to continue this routine of yours?"

"I would prefer to eat, Ada," Elrohir said sweetly, "but I was not the one who started this."

Elladan glared at him, but held his tongue as a plate of food was placed in front of him. Taking that as a hint that there was a temporary peace in place, the others began to eat as plates were placed on the table.

Elrond was the next to break the silence. He looked over to Celebrían. "All the arrangements are in place. Your escort is prepared to leave whenever you are ready, all the supplies are loaded, and all that now awaits is your presence."

"Thank you," Celebrían said, smiling at her husband. "I will miss all of you greatly, but it will be good to see my naneth and adar again. It has been too long since I have had a chance to visit them."

"Are you sure you would not rather take the twins with you?" Elrond asked with a slight smile at his sons. "This place would be much more peaceful without them for a short while."

"And have them torment the Galadrim? Nana loves them both, but you do remember what she threatened to do to them the last time we visited?" Celebrían's voice was light and musical with a hint of laughter hiding beneath the surface. Her expression sobered abruptly as she saw the looks of horror on the faces of both twins. "What is it?" she asked in concern. "You do know that Nana would not truly follow through on her threat."

Elrohir was shaking his head in denial. "No," he said softly, then louder. "No, you can't go!"

"El!" Elladan said sharply.

Elrohir whipped his head around to stare at his twin. "Elladan, she can't go on this trip!"

"Not another word, Elrohir," Elladan's voice held a fierce warning.

"What is going on?" Elrond asked. This was certainly not normal behavior, and an odd feeling was creeping up on Elrond as he watched his sons. Elladan shot a glance at his father that sent a chill down Elrond's spine. A world of pain and anger was held in that glance, and a hardness that he had never seen in his son's eyes. The look quickly vanished as if it had never been there, making Elrond wonder if he had seen it at all.

"Forgive us, Ada," Elladan apologized. He looked at his twin. "I need to talk to you a moment." Looking at his parents, he nodded his head slightly. "If you will excuse us, we'll be back momentarily." He stood up and grabbed Elrohir's arm, then practically dragged him from the room. Once they were well out of earshot, he gestured to Elrohir to precede him into the library. Almost pushing his brother into the room, he closed the door behind them and waited for Elrohir to speak.

"What are you doing?" Elrohir asked angrily, pulling away from his brother and glaring at him. "You know we can't let her leave for that trip!" He stared at his brother as if at a monster. "You cannot possibly be thinking of standing aside and letting this all happen again! I will not see her taken by orcs if I can help it!"

"Calm yourself," Elladan said softly, leaning against the door. "I have no more desire to see her captured than you do. We will stop this from repeating. But we have to think about what we want to say. What reasoning will you give them to keep her from going to visit her parents? Are you going to simply approach them and say we were sent here from the future to prevent this?"

"Why not?" Elrohir asked, calming slightly. He still did not appreciate the way Elladan had treated him and spoken to him, but he was feeling a bit better knowing that his brother did not have any intention of standing aside and letting history repeat itself.

"Do you think they'd believe us? And would you truly want to explain all that we know?" Elladan answered the question with a question. Elrohir paused in thought for a moment, and Elladan asked another question. "And what if they happen to ask where the Elladan and Elrohir from this time are?"

Elrohir looked at his brother in horror. "I never even considered that. What did happen to them?"

Elladan looked down at his feet. "I've actually been trying to avoid thinking about that. We were told we would be replacing our earlier selves. The voice never mentioned what would happen to those we replaced."

Elrohir looked sick at the thought and sank slowly down into a nearby chair. "El, what did that…being do to us?"

"I do not know, El. But I know this. We have to be very careful about what we say, and to whom we say it. Neither of us will allow any harm to come to Naneth, not again, but we must be careful about what other changes we make. We were warned about the consequences of changing the past, were we not?" Elladan pushed away from the door and took a seat near his twin.

"What are we going to tell them, then?" Elrohir asked in a small voice. "I can't lie to them, El. I had a hard enough time this morning acting like there was nothing out of the ordinary. How are we supposed to do this?"

"Unfortunately, I don't think either of us were successful at acting like there was nothing wrong, El. You know as well as I do that we are not the same elves we were then…now…before Naneth was taken." Elladan shook his head in confusion as he tried to figure out how to say what he wanted to say.

Elrohir sighed. "That is all too true. How can we just pretend we haven't seen and experienced what we have?"

Elladan shook his head once more. "I don't know, but we had better come up with a story. I doubt Ada will be able to wait much longer before he chases us down to find out what caused our earlier behavior."

"He is persistent that way," Elrohir agreed. "I just wish I knew what to tell him." Silence fell for a brief moment while they thought.

"You could start by telling the truth," a cold dangerous voice sounded from behind them as the cold steel of a blade was laid across Elrohir's neck.

Elrohir closed his eyes in dismay as he recognized the voice. He opened his eyes again and shifted his glance toward his brother. "I don't suppose you checked to be sure the room was empty before you pushed me in here?"

Elladan's expression was a bit sheepish. "I didn't think to check. If you'll remember, we were both a bit preoccupied." He looked back to the tall blonde warrior holding a sword to his twin's throat. "Sorry, Glorfindel. We forgot one of the earliest lessons you taught us. 'Always be aware of your surroundings.' Now, that sword makes your point quite well, but could you please lower it? Elrohir is looking just a bit uncomfortable."

Glorfindel glared at the elder twin. "Do not attempt to play act with me. I heard what the two of you said when you entered the room. Now, who are you?"

Elladan tried everything he could think of to salvage the situation. "It is I, Elladan. That is Elrohir at the end of your sword. We are the same elves you have known since we were born. Do you not recognize us?"

Glorfindel brought the edge of the sword closer to Elrohir's throat. Elrohir sucked in a breath in response to the feel of the metal kissing his skin. The look he shot toward his twin begged him to find a way out of this.

"You said you were from the future," Glorfindel prompted when neither of the twins responded.

"We were planning a prank, Glorfindel, that is all," Elladan said smoothly, thinking as quickly as he could. "If we could get others to believe that, it would be a worthy prank, indeed." He grinned up at Glorfindel. "And you have just shown how very easy this will be."

Glorfindel growled at the elder twin. "The two of you were speaking of Celebrían being taken by orcs. Not for any prank would you make such a claim. Now, I repeat my question. Who are you?"

Elladan looked back at Elrohir. Without a word being exchanged, Elrohir urged Elladan to tell Glorfindel the truth. He had heard just enough for him to distrust them. Perhaps if he heard the full story, he would help them in their task. In any case, it was quite evident by now that his suspicions had been raised toward them and would not be quelled easily. Elladan sighed and dropped his jovial demeanor. He was far too off balance right now to be able to keep up the façade for long. His face was serious when he looked back at Glorfindel. "Very well. You wish the truth? Please, sit and we will tell you. But please lower your sword. We truly are Elladan and Elrohir; we have no desire to harm anyone in this house. They are our family…you are our family. That has not and will never change."

Studying the face of the elf before him, Glorfindel saw the sincerity in those familiar eyes. But there was something more there, a sadness, a seriousness that he rarely saw in the mischievous twins. While he did not trust the situation, he did at least feel that they were the same elves he knew, and yet…there was something else, something foreign in those eyes as well. Glorfindel walked back around to stand in front of Elrohir so that he could look in his eyes, not taking his sword from his throat. As it was with his brother, Glorfindel saw a mix of familiar and foreign in those eyes, but there was nothing there to hint that they meant anyone any harm. Glorfindel slowly lowered his sword and moved back to take a seat across from the two younger elves, laying his unsheathed sword across his knees in a clear message that it could be raised again if he did not like what he heard.

Elrohir gave a sigh of relief and slouched down in his chair as Elladan nodded to Glorfindel. "Thank you."

"You have yet to answer any of my questions," Glorfindel answered, his voice still far colder and more reserved than it ever was when he was speaking to them.

Elrohir shuddered at the sound, then sat up straight in his chair once more. "And we will. You may be in the best situation to understand and help us, though this is not how I would have chosen to tell you." Elrohir gestured to the sword on Glorfindel's lap. "We may not have much time, so I will tell you only the most important details for now. Elladan and I did come from the future. We are not truly sure why we are here or who sent us. When we went to sleep last night, we were in another place in the future. When we woke up, we were here, in our beds, in what is to us, the past."

"You cannot expect me to believe that you simply woke up in the past with no idea why!" Glorfindel exclaimed.

"We do have more to tell, if you would allow us to tell it," Elladan said pointedly. When Glorfindel merely glared at him, Elladan nodded for Elrohir to continue.

"I did not say we had no idea," Elrohir commented. "Before we went to sleep last night, we were conversing with…a friend," he continued carefully. "Somehow, we found ourselves discussing past regrets, things we would change if it had been in our power. What you heard us discussing is the one event that we would have given anything to change. As we slept, we found ourselves in a place of darkness. A voice spoke to us out of the darkness saying that we were being given the chance to go back and change the past. He did not say who he was, or why we were to be given this chance. After the voice explained a bit about what was to happen, we fell into an endless void and woke up here this morning." Elrohir gave a helpless shrug. "Beyond that, we really know very little."

When Elrohir did not seem inclined to explain further, Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. "That is all you intend to explain?"

Elladan waved his hand in frustration. "We do not have time to sit here and convince you to trust us! Our naneth will be leaving this valley very soon and traveling to Lothlórien to visit our grandparents, but it is a journey she will not complete. A large band of orcs will attack her party, killing all but a few elves. She will be taken captive and tortured, tormented endlessly by those foul creatures until we arrive to rescue her. But by then," Elladan's voice broke, "it was too late."

Glorfindel's face paled as he listened to Elladan. The shift in tenses from future to past helped to convince him that this event had already happened for the twins. That, and the look on their faces. There was such depth of pain, despair, and a raging anger reflected in both of their faces that he had never seen on the twins he knew. "She dies?" he asked softly.

"NO!" Elrohir burst out. He took a breath and repeated himself in a calmer tone. "No, they did not kill her, though it was a near thing. We destroyed every orc in the place and retrieved her from the cave they had kept her in. By the time we found her…" He closed his eyes and looked down, remembering the scene that was always ready to swim up from the depths of his memory to form in great detail before his eyes. Shaking his head to clear the image, he glanced up again and met Glorfindel's eyes. Elrohir's eyes were haunted, but he kept his voice steady as he finished the tale. "Her body survived, but she had been poisoned, her fëa so badly damaged that she was close to fading when we found her. She almost did not recognize us, her own sons, and she shrank back from our touch when we worked to heal what injuries we could before carrying her out of the cave and back to Imladris. Adar was able to heal her physical injuries, but he could not completely counter the poison in her veins, and he was unable to heal the injuries to her fëa. He nearly destroyed himself trying, but in the end, he was helpless to save her. Rather than fading, she sailed to Valinor. We escorted her to the Grey Havens and saw her sail from these shores. She still awaits us there."

Elrohir sighed and stopped speaking, being drained by having to keep a check on his emotions as he related their experiences. Elladan reached over and placed a supportive hand on his twin's shoulder and took up the tale to spare him having to speak more of this. "Our family was devastated by her departure," Elladan said in an emotionless voice. "Elrohir and I … did not handle her departure well. We declared war on every orc to walk the face of Arda and did everything in our powers to purge this land of those foul creatures." Elladan's eyes narrowed as he remembered those years.

Glorfindel shuddered inwardly as he saw the unbridled rage and hatred in the eyes of the elf in front of him.

Elladan continued, lost in a past that Glorfindel had not experienced and now hoped he never would. "For several centuries, El and I rode with the Dúnedain, with as many elven patrols as we could, and many times, took off on our own to hunt down and eradicate the orcs. The things we did, I cannot now condone. We relished in the kill, in the blood. For centuries, we were feared by all creatures of the darkness as their worst nightmares. They called us Dehlfalhen (Orc Slayer) and Glamferaen (Goblin Bane). We came far closer to losing ourselves than either of us like to admit."

"Where was Elrond in all of this?" Glorfindel asked in horror. While the twins were seasoned warriors, they had also been trained as healers. They were far too compassionate and gentle to enjoy killing like Elladan described. This then, was the difference he had sensed in the twins. "Where was I during this? Why did no one stop you, show you how destructive that behavior was?"

"Ada was lost in his own grief," Elrohir explained. "He could not see what we were doing until it was far too late to pull us out of it. You and Erestor and others tried numerous times to talk sense into us, but we would hear none of it. Arwen could not stand to see what we were doing to ourselves, and left to live with Daernana in Lothlórien. Naneth's capture and subsequent sailing almost destroyed all of us, Glorfindel. Now that we have been sent back, we intend to do anything necessary to prevent this from happening again. We must come up with a way to prevent her taking this trip until we can take out a full patrol and eradicate that band of orcs."

"You have a choice now," Elladan said calmly. "You can join us and help us to accomplish this, or you can try to stop us. Though I do not know why you would do such a thing, I can assure you that you will not succeed. We have crossed centuries to keep Naneth safe. No one will stand in our way at this point."

"Was that a threat?" Glorfindel asked just as calmly. He never thought he would see the day that he was threatened by one of the elves he had sworn to protect. "Would you truly harm someone you called family such a short time ago?"

"To save Nana?" Elladan asked with an impassive expression. "We will do anything it takes."

Glorfindel stared at Elladan's closed expression for several long minutes. The Elladan he knew could never have threatened him like that, but then, based on what they had just said, he realized that in many ways, they were not the twins he knew. He did not know what to expect from the two elves in front of him. His hand tightened automatically on the sword he held in his lap.

Elrohir saw the small movement and sighed. This was not the approach to take. He leaned over and swatted the back of Elladan's head. "What are you doing?"

Elladan looked over at him in surprise. "I'm trying to save Nana."

Rolling his eyes, Elrohir gestured at Glorfindel. "By making Glorfindel think we'd actually hurt him? We need his help, El. And you know very well that we would never dream of hurting him."

Turning to glare at his twin, Elladan retorted, "Well, he didn’t know that. Until you had to go and open your mouth."

"You're taking the wrong approach, El, and you know it. Now, we need to get his cooperation and decide what to tell Adar and Naneth to convince them to delay the trip. And we'd better come up with something fast, I don’t think we have much time. I'm actually rather surprised that Ada hasn't tracked us down after the way we left the dining room."

"And if he doesn't agree to cooperate?" Elladan asked.

"Then we knock him out, tie him up and deal with him when we get back." Elrohir shrugged.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at that. Did they really think he'd just let them get the jump on him like that?

"But I doubt it will be necessary," Elrohir remarked. "Do you think that Glorfindel would stand by and let Naneth be taken by orcs any more than we would?"

"Would you stop discussing me like I am not in the room?" Glorfindel complained. That was one familiar aspect about the twins, anyway. When they got into a discussion with each other, they sometimes forgot there was anyone else in the room.

They turned to him in surprise, and Glorfindel just stared at them until Elrohir spoke again. "Forgive us, Glorfindel. What is your decision? We are running out of time."

"To save Celebrían, I will do whatever it takes," Glorfindel vowed. "However, when this is resolved, you will sit down and tell me everything."

"Everything that we can, agreed." Elrohir said readily. "But I would ask that you not tell anyone else about this. I would not inflict the pain of knowing what we know on Adar, Naneth, or Arwen. They suffered enough the first time around, I would not have them know about it now."

"On that, I will reserve judgment until after you tell me the full story. If I am convinced that there is no need for the others to know, I will keep your secret. If not…" Glorfindel's voice trailed off.

Elrohir nodded. "Very well." He looked over at Elladan. "Now, what do we tell Adar?"

Glorfindel shook his head. They were ignoring a very plausible explanation for how they could know the future. "I feel I must point out that foreknowledge of events and visions do happen to run in your family."

The twins looked at him in surprise, not having thought of that. "But we have never had visions," Elladan said. "Adar knows that."

"There is a first time for everything," Glorfindel retorted.

Elrohir was nodding. "That would work, El."

"I think we should say it was your vision," Elladan agreed. "You did react the strongest at breakfast to Naneth's trip being mentioned."

Before they could say anything more, there came a knock at the door. "Elladan, Elrohir, are you in there?"

"Adar," Elrohir said, glancing over at the other two. Glorfindel stood and placed the sword against the wall, out of sight. Elladan stood and opened the door for his father. Elrohir stood as well as the door was opened.

Looking into the room, Elrond was surprised to see Glorfindel in the room with the twins. "Would the two of you care to explain your behavior at breakfast this morning?" He raised an eyebrow at the twins.

Elrohir sighed and sat back down in one of the chairs. "I do not feel that Naneth should take this trip, Ada. There will be trouble."

Elrond crossed the room to sit in the chair across from him. "What do you mean? What trouble? I have sensed nothing."

"Orcs, Ada. I saw many orcs coming from the trees and attacking her party. We cannot let Naneth travel until the path has been cleared." Elrohir stared earnestly into his father's eyes, letting him see the fear in his own.

"You saw this?" Elrond asked in surprise. "When?"

"Last night," Elrohir said. "In my dreams. Elladan heard me and came into my room to awaken me, and that is when I accidentally hit him. He was not convinced that my dreams were a real vision, so he tried to keep me from concerning you over them. We have discussed them with Glorfindel, and he now believes they show what could come to pass. Please Ada, whether you believe me or not, have Naneth delay her trip for a few days. Just until we can clear the path and ensure that it is safe."

Elrond saw the fear and pain in his son's eyes and knew that this was not some simple nightmare. Whether it was a true vision or not, they could not take a chance with Celebrían's life. "Have you had any other visions, ion-nin? Either of you?"

Elrohir shook his head. "No, this was the first. Right now, all I am concerned with is that we keep this vision from coming true. We can discuss anything else later."

Elrond nodded when he saw how seriously both his sons were taking this matter. While he knew that not all visions were clear cut and actually predicted the future, he knew better than to dismiss this. "Very well. Let us go speak with your naneth and then arrange for a patrol to go clear the path."

"We must be members of that patrol," Elladan spoke up. "We will get no rest otherwise."

Elrond looked over to Glorfindel, who nodded his head. "I will lead the patrol myself, hîr nin, and I would gladly have your sons join me." Glorfindel did not intend to let the twins out of his sight until he had the full story from them.

Looking back to his sons, Elrond spoke again. "Then, when you get back, we shall all sit down and discuss the fact that you now seem to be having visions. I had hoped that neither of you would be thus burdened, but it seems that those hopes will not come to pass."

Not knowing what else to say, Elrohir nodded his head. "Of course, Adar." Glancing sideways at his twin as Elrond turned to walk out the door, Elrohir muttered under his breath just loud enough for Elladan and Glorfindel to hear him. "It seems we will be doing a great deal of talking as soon as we return from this trip. Perhaps we should have Erestor draft a schedule."

Glorfindel could not help a small inward smile at the comment and Elladan's muffled snort of amusement. Perhaps these twins were not so different from the ones he knew, after all.

--------------------------------------------------------------

After all their concern and worry, it was ridiculously easy to postpone the trip and thus save their naneth.

Celebrían had always known that there was a chance that her children would begin having visions. The ability ran in both sides of the family, from Elrond and her own mother, Galadriel. It was odd that it chose to show up only now, but perhaps the ability had needed something as drastic as an attack on their mother to manifest. After hearing Elrohir's vision, Celebrían agreed to stay home until the path could be proven safe. The relief on Elladan and Elrohir's faces was clear to all. Within a few hours, plans were made and the elves involved in the patrol were ready to head out.

Elladan and Elrohir joined their family on the steps as it was time to leave. Celebrían hugged each of them. "Be safe, my sons," she whispered to them.

Elladan smiled at her. "Do not worry, Naneth. It will take more than a few orcs to keep us from returning home to you and Adar."

Elrohir kissed her cheek and they took their leave of their family.

Glorfindel watched as the twins easily mounted their horses and fell into formation out of the protected valley. There was nothing overt in their movements or behavior at this point to set them apart from the elves everyone knew. They had braided their hair into their usual warrior styles and moved with the same ease they always did, handling their horses as easily as ever. Rather than take the lead, Glorfindel dropped back behind the twins to keep an eye on them. Though he tried to be unobtrusive about it, he watched their every move as the patrol rode through the forest. What he was watching for, he was uncertain, but he would not take his eyes from them.

The first few days passed easily, with nothing seeming out of the ordinary. As they approached the Misty Mountains, however, Glorfindel noticed a subtle tension building in the twins. Glorfindel was not able to speak freely with them about their being from the future, or about what they would soon be facing, not with the others around. When he did speak with the twins about the enemies they would soon encounter, they had to speak in vague terms, keeping up the charade that they knew about the attack due to a vision.

On the fifth day of travel, as they neared the Redhorn Pass, the twins suddenly tensed, their bantering ceased and they began looking carefully around. Glorfindel's own senses went on high alert as he glanced around. They were obviously nearing the location of the ambush. The other members of the patrol noticed their behavior and went on alert as well. All sounds ceased for a long moment, then Elladan uttered one word; "Yrch!" (orcs)

Both twins reached for their bows simultaneously, and began firing into the mass of orcs now spilling from the trees. Glorfindel grabbed his own bow and began firing as well, before the orcs got too close for bows and all of the elves reached for their swords instead. Glorfindel lost sight of the twins for most of the battle, concentrating on the orcs that seemed determined to remove his head from his body. He was surprised there were so many of them so close to Imladris. They had all thought this a fairly safe route, or they would never have planned to send Celebrían without a much larger guard patrol.

Glorfindel lost track of the time as they fought, blocking, parrying and thrusting with his sword, dodging and twirling away from blows, only to return the favor and decapitate or incapacitate his current opponent. If he took any injuries in battle, he did not know it. The pile of orc bodies grew around them as time passed. There came a lull in the fighting near Glorfindel, and he glanced around to see how the others fared. His breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the twins. They stood back to back and moved as if they were one being, each knowing where the other was and exactly what move he would make. They were a glorious, and yet horrible sight to see. Their faces were fearsome to behold, as they cut down every orc who ventured too close. The rage and pain in their faces and movements stood out clearly to distinguish them from the elves he knew. Glorfindel had trained them as young elves, and he had seen them in battle on numerous patrols, but he had never seen them like this. Their story of Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen rang true in his head at this moment.

Another orc raced toward Glorfindel, and he raised his sword to meet this latest attack, being pulled back into the midst of the battle. After what could have been hours, the orc numbers seemed to be dwindling rapidly. Glorfindel watched the other members of his patrol cutting down the last of the orcs and looked around for the twins. His heart began pounding in his chest as he realized that they could not be seen anywhere. Where had they vanished to? Had they been cut down in battle? They had seemed to throw themselves into the battle with such abandon that he feared they may have been too careless and been killed by the orcs. How could he return to Imladris bearing such news?

He ran toward where he had last seen them, and from off to his right, he heard the faint clash of metal on metal. Leaving the other elves to finish cleaning up, he raced in the direction of the ongoing battle. The sounds emanated from a dark cave opening, and he remembered the twins telling him that they had found Celebrían in a cave. Holding his sword at the ready, he edged into the cave and saw the twins in the middle of a cluster of twenty orcs. Being outnumbered ten to one did not seem to be slowing them in the least. They fought as he had seen them earlier, back to back, moving as one, fighting one orc, then twisting and decapitating an orc that got too close to the other twin. At this point, Glorfindel could not tell the twins apart. They were both covered in orc blood and wore the same expression of rage.

Glorfindel decided to help even the odds and entered the fray, starting at the cave entrance and working toward the twins. After many more minutes, Glorfindel had nearly reached them. He stabbed an orc through the heart that seemed about to skewer one of the twins. After one of the twins killed the last orc standing, Glorfindel suddenly found himself facing an elven sword. He ducked under the sword and brought up his own to block the following blow. This was not something he had expected. Looking into the eyes of the twin facing him, he saw a blank rage in those dark depths. There was no recognition at all in those battle-clouded eyes.

"El?!" he yelled, using the common nickname, hoping it would reach whichever twin he faced. "It is I, Glorfindel, do you not recognize me?"

A hand reached out and grasped the wrist of the twin attacking Glorfindel. "Elladan, stop!" Glorfindel shifted his eyes toward Elrohir, then quickly looked back at Elladan in case he needed to defend himself again. "The battle is over, El. They are destroyed. They can never hurt Naneth again. Stop for a moment and see who is before you."

Glorfindel watched warily as the cloud slowly lifted from the eyes staring at him in anger. He saw the moment when Elladan became aware of his surroundings once more and horrified recognition spread through his eyes.

Elladan dropped his sword from suddenly nerveless hands. "What am I doing?" he asked with an agonized expression before he turned away from them and staggered to the back of the cave to lean against the wall with his back to them.

Exchanging a concerned glance with Glorfindel, Elrohir moved to his brother's side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, El. It's over. You didn't hurt Glorfindel. Being here again is bringing back too many memories for both of us." He glanced around and shuddered as his mind replayed images from their past and he saw his mother huddled against a far wall. Blinking the image away, he turned his attention back to his brother.

"It nearly happened again, El," Elladan whispered. "I could feel it just beneath the surface. I almost gave into it again." He shook his head slowly, refusing to look at his brother.

"But you didn't," Elrohir said encouragingly. "We won this battle, and we will never come so close to losing ourselves again. It was only facing the orcs who once hurt Naneth that brought us so close to the edge this time. It has no more power over us. All will be well, Elladan. Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen need never exist."

Elladan turned to face his brother. "We will have to make sure they never exist, El. I do not think I would be strong enough to turn from that path a second time."

Elrohir reached out and placed both of his hands on his brother's shoulders. "We did it, Elladan. The foul creatures that hurt Naneth are gone, destroyed. We have succeeded in our quest." For a long moment, they simply stared at each other as that fact sank home for both of them. Then a smile spread across Elladan's face.

Glorfindel sighed in relief, sensing that things would be well now. He saw how close Elladan and Elrohir both had come to the edge, but the danger of them falling seemed to have passed. He relaxed his stance and wiped his sword down briefly before re-sheathing it and walking over to join the twins just as Elladan spoke.

"We did, didn't we? Naneth is safe, unhurt and whole. She will not sail now. Our family is still whole." Elladan relaxed suddenly, the tension leaving his body in a rush and his legs gave out beneath him, dropping him abruptly to the ground.

"Elladan!" Elrohir knelt down beside his twin, fearing what might be wrong.

Elladan shook his head. "It is nothing, just a scratch."

"Oh, really?" Elrohir asked in disbelief. "Like Legolas and …" he glanced over at Glorfindel, who now knelt beside them before continuing carefully "someone else we know? They could be bleeding to death and it would always be 'just a scratch'. Where are you injured? I will be the judge of how serious the injury is."

"It is my left leg," Elladan answered. "And it truly is just a scratch. I am not as stubborn as the two of them." He winced as Elrohir found the long cut in his leg and began cleaning away the blood as best he could.

Once Elrohir wiped away most of the mix of orc and elven blood, he found a cut that ran halfway down the length of Elladan's leg. "How were you even standing?" Elrohir asked him.

Elladan shrugged. "You know very well that I never even felt it." He looked his brother over and found traces of elven blood mixed in with the orc blood as well. "Just as I imagine you never felt your own injury."

"What injury?" Elrohir asked.

Elladan reached forward and gently touched the long cut in the sleeve of Elrohir's shirt. A bloody gash in his arm was evident through the tear. "That injury."

Elrohir looked down at his arm. "Oh." Elrohir shrugged and went back to tending Elladan's leg, ignoring his own injury.

Rolling his eyes, Elladan looked over at Glorfindel. Sobering as he remembered what he had almost done, he glanced down at the ground before looking back up at Glorfindel. "I realize that you have no reason to trust us, and I am sure my recent actions have done nothing to help in that regard. But I do hope you can accept my apology. At the time, I truly did not realize that it was friend I faced and not another orc. I truly am sorry, Glorfindel. Please forgive my actions."

Glorfindel sighed as he looked at the expression of guilt on Elladan's face. "I do believe your story. We found the orcs just as you said, and when I saw the two of you fighting, I realized that I have never seen the sons of Elrond fight as you did here. I will hear the rest of your story before I decide on whether or not to tell anyone else about you, but I do also believe that you truly meant me no harm. I cannot blame you for doing whatever you had to do to save your mother. For this," he waved his hand around the cave to indicate Elladan's attack on him, "there is nothing to forgive."

Elladan nodded in relief. Though he heard the reserved note in Glorfindel's voice that indicated he was not truly sure they could be trusted, at least his recent actions had not irrevocably destroyed the possibility that they could convince Glorfindel to trust them. "Thank you," Elladan said. "Then would you mind treating my stubborn twin while he treats my leg?"

Glorfindel allowed a small smile to cross his lips. Elladan was calling Elrohir stubborn? "Of course," he said, moving over to Elrohir and beginning to treat his arm.

Elrohir allowed Glorfindel to tear his sleeve away and do his best to clean the wound so that he could see how bad it was. While trying not to move his arm too much, he examined the gash in Elladan's leg. "I hate to say this, Elladan, but this goes rather deep. It will need stitches."

"This will also need stitches," Glorfindel said as he examined Elrohir's arm. "Come, we should leave this cave. All our healing supplies are with the horses outside." He and Elrohir helped Elladan to his feet. Elrohir supported his brother as Elladan limped out of the cave to join the rest of the patrol.

When they left the cave, they found their way to the clearing where the others were gathering the horses, the wounded and the dead. Elladan and Elrohir gazed painfully at the four dead bodies lying on the ground. Glorfindel could tell by watching their faces that they blamed themselves for the warrior's deaths. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders and drew their attention to him. "This was not your doing. You know that. Each of us knows what we might face when we ride out on patrol. We all face the possibility of our deaths when we fight to protect our land and our people. It was the orcs who slew them, not you."

Elrohir nodded as he helped Elladan to sit on the ground near where others were having their injuries seen to before sitting beside him. "While my head knows that, Glorfindel, my heart is another matter. We led them out here, we knew what we would be facing, and we endangered their lives."

Glorfindel shook his head and spoke again. "All who command others in battle must face the fact that they will lose warriors under their command. You know all too well that in battle, not all will survive." He sighed as he glanced over at the warriors on the ground. "No matter how skilled they are." He crouched down beside the twins. "How many elves died in your…vision?"

Elrohir closed his eyes as he remembered how many elves had died in the patrol that had accompanied his mother, and those that had died in the battle they had fought to rescue her. "Twelve," he said softly. Looking at the four elves again, he swallowed abruptly. "Including all four of them."

Glorfindel's eyebrows rose, then the surprised expression faded from his face as he thought it through. It was not all that surprising after all that the four elves died in both versions of events. They had been part of Celebrían's planned escort, and would have willingly given their lives to protect her. "Then you saved lives by warning us of this attack," he reassured them. He gestured for one of the other warriors to bring over healing herbs and bandages, then handed the supplies over to the twins so they could treat each other's injuries. Standing, he left to go help the uninjured members of the patrol gather the bodies of their enemies into a pile to burn to avoid unwanted scavengers.

Once the injured were seen to and the fire had been set, the patrol set up camp for the night. It was too late to be heading back now, and the fire could not be left unattended. Watches were set for the night, with the injured being exempt from the responsibilities. Elrohir insisted that he was well enough to stand watch, but Glorfindel over-rode him, saying that he would need his rest. The implication that he would be doing a lot of explaining upon their return to Imladris was quite clear.

As they settled down for the night, Elladan and Elrohir were left wondering what would happen now. But even with the uncertainty of their situation, they at least knew that they had succeeded and their mother was safe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

A/N: There is a slight deviation from canon in this story. Rather than having Arathorn slain when he was 'riding against the orcs with the sons of Elrond', I have assumed that Aragorn and Gilraen were with him and they were heading to Imladris to live for a time. In the Silmarillion it says 'In that house [the house of Elrond] were harboured the Heirs of Isildur, in childhood and old age, because of the kinship of their blood with Elrond himself…'. The quote continues, but this made me think that Aragorn would have been taken to Imladris for his own protection at some point, so why not when he was two? The twins are still there, acting as escort, but they were not out specifically to hunt orcs. I know that is not Tolkien's version, but I need things to happen a bit differently for this story to work. Therefore, this story can be considered slightly AU. I am also using a history created for Elladan and Elrohir by Cassia and Sio. I do have their permission to use Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen, which were their creations.

Please read and review. If you have any ideas for changes to the history of Middle-earth that you would like to suggest as the story progresses, please feel free to e-mail me at mistycracraft at yahoo.com and let me know what they are. If they fit well with other plot elements I have planned, I may use them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Two

Aragorn groaned as he shifted in his sleep. His bed seemed much harder than usual. Had he rolled out of bed and now slept on the floor? He rolled over and felt a rock dig into his shoulder. A rock? The incongruity of a rock being in his bed brought him abruptly awake, and he opened his eyes to find that he was staring into a canopy of trees, their bare branches covered with blossoms and the new leaves of early spring. Trees? Where was he and how had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his brothers' sitting room in Minas Tirith. Had he been kidnapped somehow? As he quietly tested his range of movement, he found that he was not bound in any way, and there were no injuries that he could feel. So what had happened after he fell asleep? Fragments of a dream drifted into his mind and his eyes widened as he remembered floating in a black void, arguing with a bodiless voice. Had that been real? It could not be, but then, how had he gotten here, wherever here was?

Closing his eyes once more so as not to bring attention to himself, he sifted through the memories in his mind of the night before and listened to the sounds of the camp around him. The encounter with the voice came back to him in full, and he considered for a moment the possibility that he was truly back in the past, in the body of another, with the chance to change the past by saving his father's life. Oddly enough, as he thought this, memories and knowledge that were not his own filtered into his mind. These thoughts told him that his name was Eradan, and that he was a young Ranger out on his first patrol with his father and a group of other Rangers. They were escorting their Chieftain and his family to Imladris so that young Aragorn could be raised in the safety of the elven refuge. Aragorn's breath caught in his throat as he realized that he was indeed in the body of another, and had access to some of the knowledge the other held. That knowledge would be needed to help him maintain that person's identity.

'*Hello?*' Aragorn thought. If there was another mind sharing this body, Aragorn needed to know if he could communicate with it. He needed to inform the young Ranger what was happening and reassure him that it was nothing he had ever intended to happen. There was no answering response. Aragorn was unable to feel any conscious thought or feelings other than his own, though the knowledge was there for him to access whenever he needed it. Aragorn remembered the voice saying that his presence would completely suppress the other mind. '*I'm sorry*', Aragorn thought to Eradan, knowing he would probably not hear or understand him. Knowing he needed to figure out what his full situation was and that he could not do that while pretending to be asleep, he opened his eyes and carefully sat up.

The sight that appeared in front of him was a familiar one, and he smiled slightly. He was in the midst of a Dúnedain camp that was just waking up for the morning before moving on. Those coming off of a watch were beginning to wake the others. Some men were preparing a small meal to break the night's fast in the middle of the small clearing, while others were gathering up some supplies and preparing the horses for the day's ride. Aragorn caught his breath again as he caught sight of Elladan and Elrohir sitting near the fire, helping with the meal. Were they here from his own time as well? Aragorn wanted to rush over to their side and ask them what they remembered from the night before, but his memory of the voice prompted him to be more cautious. The voice had told him that he would not find the brothers he knew in this place. In that case, the Elladan and Elrohir in the camp would be the ones that belonged in this time. They had, after all, spent centuries riding with the Dúnedain and attempting to eradicate all the orcs in Arda. If a young Ranger by the name of Eradan approached them and started babbling about events that had not yet taken place, surely all of the men in the camp would believe he was touched in the head and he would never be able to gain their trust. While the gift of foresight was not unheard of among the Dúnedain, not many would start claiming that they were not who they appeared to be and were visiting from the future, inhabiting the body of another. Aragorn was not about to do something so rash. He would watch his brothers and see if he could find some indication as to whether they were the twins of this time, or the twins of his time.

"Eradan!" Aragorn looked toward the person who had spoken the name of the body he now inhabited. It was apparently an automatic reflex for him to respond to this name. He looked up to find an older man with the dark hair and eyes of the Dúnedain watching him. He recognized the man as Eradan's father, Elendur.

"Yes, Adar?" he replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and pushing his blanket aside. Elendur crouched on the ground a few feet away, packing up his pack.

"It is past time for you to arise, my son." Elendur stared at him for a moment. "I realize that you are not yet used to being on patrol, but you must get up now and help us prepare to leave. Eat something first, then help the others pack up."

"Of course, Adar." Aragorn rose and quickly packed up his bedroll before heading over to the fire to grab a quick meal. He nodded in acknowledgment to the twins, who nodded back. Their expressions were serious, but not unkind. Making sure not to be caught, Aragorn sneaked a few glances in their direction, but could find no trace of the mischievous streak he knew the two had. It seemed at this point that the twins were not the ones he had grown up with and known as his brothers. He would watch further, but would keep his own counsel for now.

Doing as he had been ordered, he sat down on a fallen log to eat his meal and observed those around him. There was much activity taking place as they quickly got ready to leave the camp. A small boy darted from a tent set up off to the side, and he ran toward the men gathered around the fire. Elladan moved quickly, gathering the child up in his arms as he got too close to the fire.

"Aragorn!" came a voice from the tent. Aragorn could not help but turn around at the sound, and saw Gilraen striding quickly toward them, her dress swishing around her legs. "You know better than to take off like that, young man."

A small smile quirked Elladan's lips as he handed the squirming child over to her. "Your son, my Lady."

"Thank you, master elf," she nodded her head toward him, then turned and walked quickly back toward the tent, chiding the two year old softly.

Elladan sat back down beside his twin to finish his meal. "It looks like the latest addition to Isildur's line has just as much energy as every previous one." He nodded his head in the direction of the Chieftain's tent. "Imladris is about to become much less peaceful."

Elrohir smiled slightly. "Adar will find the noise comforting, I think. It reminds him of our own youth." He sobered then. "I know he misses having us around."

"I know," Elladan replied with a serious look on his face. "But there is still too much for us to do out here. It almost seems as if there are more orcs every year. We cannot stop yet." Elrohir nodded in reply before sighing softly and staring back at the plate of food in his lap.

Aragorn listened to their conversation without seeming to. That proved to him that these twins were not the ones he knew. While the Elladan and Elrohir that he knew had no love for orcs and had often gone out on patrols with the elves of Imladris or the Dúnedain, they had still spent a great deal of time in Imladris. The need to extinguish the life of every orc in Arda did not drive them as hard as it once had. The two in front of him still felt that drive.

Knowing he was truly alone here, he forced his mind to other topics. He shook his head in amazement at the thought that he had just seen himself as a two-year-old child. And his mother looked so young! This Gilraen wore none of the lines of worry or the mantle of grief that he remembered. The Gilraen he had just seen was young, vibrant and full of life. Not wanting to seem like he was lingering unnecessarily, Aragorn quickly finished his meal and set about helping to prepare the camp to leave. A few minutes later, Gilraen emerged from the tent once more with a firm grip on young Aragorn's hand. Aragorn felt his heart nearly stop in his chest as they were followed by a tall man with dark hair and grey eyes. 'Arathorn,' Aragorn's mind whispered. 'Father', he thought as he stared hard at this man he had no memory of. For a long moment, he could do nothing but watch the man as he led Gilraen and Aragorn over to the fire to take their meal while he then set about helping to dismantle and pack up his tent before taking his own meal. He spoke quietly with the twins while they lingered over the remains of their meal.

When the horse that Aragorn was loading supplies on to jostled him, Aragorn was shaken out of his musings. He quickly set about finishing up his task, hoping no one had noticed his fascination with Arathorn. Going over what he knew of the attack that had taken his father's life, Aragorn came to the conclusion that it would happen on this trip. Today or tomorrow, perhaps. He would have to stay on alert, and once the attack was sprung, would have to find and kill the orc that fired the fatal arrow before he had a chance to repeat history. Aragorn sobered at the thought that his father's life now rested in his hands. It was a responsibility he must live up to.

When all was ready, they mounted their horses and continued on their path toward Imladris. As they rode, Aragorn did his best to stay near the twins and Arathorn at the head of the men, without making himself conspicuous. He was content to simply be near his family and listen to them speaking to each other. A smile crossed his face as he heard little Aragorn babbling to his father, obviously saying something he found quite important, though no one else could understand a word he said. Aragorn kept a careful watch on the trees around them, expecting trouble around every bend.

They had been riding for several hours before he noticed the twins stiffen in a sign he knew well. Their keen sense of hearing had picked something up. He began looking around them, reaching down for the hilt of his sword as the twins signaled them to stop.

"Yrch!" Elladan hissed as he and Elrohir gestured at the path ahead of them. Aragorn and the other Rangers quickly came up and surrounded Arathorn, Gilraen and little Aragorn. They well knew their responsibility was to protect the Chieftain's family. Moments later, arrows rained down upon them from the surrounding forest. The Rangers drew their bows swiftly and returned fire, doing their best to make each arrow count. There was certainly no shortage of targets as the orcs poured out of the trees toward them. Soon, the orcs were upon them, and they put their bows aside, drawing swords instead.

Aragorn struck at the head of an orc that had gotten too close before wheeling his horse around and stabbing at an orc on his other side. He quickly got swept up in the battle, doing his best to protect his family as he concentrated on taking down each orc as quickly as possible. For quite some time, he was able to fight from horseback, urging the horse to strike out and hold off some of the orcs while he struck down others who were much closer to him. Aragorn saw when an opening appeared in the ranks of the orcs and Gilraen and little Aragorn were hustled away to be hidden and better protected. Nodding in approval, Aragorn took a moment to look away from his own enemies to scan the surrounding forest. He needed to find the orc archer that would fell Arathorn and prevent that from happening. His moment of inattention cost him as he felt a body impact his and drive him from his horse. Hitting the hard ground momentarily knocked the wind from his lungs, but Aragorn knew he did not have time to lie there and recover his breath. Taking his knife from his belt, he quickly stabbed upward, catching the orc across the neck, ending his life in one blow. Shoving the orc aside, he quickly rose to his feet, knowing that the longer he stayed down, the more likely it was that he would not be given the chance to rise again. Sensing an orc approaching from behind, he quickly turned and caught the upraised arm of the orc with his left hand, driving his sword into the orc's gut with his right. Dropping that orc, he pivoted and took on another orc that was approaching his side. For many moments, he was surrounded and it was all he could do to block the blows aimed at his head, midsection and legs. One orc got in a lucky blow while he was fighting another, and Aragorn felt fire line his ribs as the scimitar cut into his side. He swung his sword around in an arc, beheading that orc and turning back to the orc he had been in the middle of fighting, stabbing his knife into the orc's eye before turning and facing yet another orc attempting to stab a sword into his back. After several more minutes of intense fighting, he found himself in a lull. He pressed his arm tightly to his side, hoping to stem the bleeding, knowing he did not have time to do anything more yet. His fights were taking too long. Where was Arathorn?

Aragorn scanned the fighting around him until he saw Arathorn surrounded by no less than ten orcs. Making his way toward him, Aragorn studied the surrounding woods, knowing the fatal arrow would not come from one of the orcs closest to Arathorn. In that moment, he saw the orc step out of the shadows and raise it's bow toward Arathorn. Knowing he had only seconds, Aragorn stepped forward, pulling out his own bow and loosing an arrow aimed directly at the orc's head. It flew true and straight, burying itself in the orc's eye. But it came a split second too late. The orc had already released his own arrow. Aragorn was not about to let his father die, and thinking only of that, threw himself into the path of the arrow, dropping to the ground as he felt it bury itself deep into his shoulder. The agony of it took his breath away, and he lay still for a moment, trying desperately to regain some control over his body. The fighting raged around him for several moments more before one of the orcs noticed that the body on the ground was not quite dead. It loomed over Aragorn raising a scimitar dripping with blood over it's head to end Aragorn's life.

Aragorn grasped his sword with his good arm and stabbed upwards, catching the orc with a glancing blow to its side. The orc growled and brought the scimitar down toward Aragorn's head. Aragorn attempted to block the blow, but he was becoming weak from the pain and blood loss, and the orc easily brushed aside his attempt. Just as the orc was about to dispatch Aragorn to the next life, another sword swung down out of nowhere, decapitating the orc. The orc's body dropped on top of Aragorn, the weight of it driving the air out of Aragorn's lungs. Just before he blacked out, Aragorn looked up to see Arathorn standing over him, alive and well. 'I did it,' Aragorn thought. Then he surrendered to the darkness and knew no more.

-------------------------------------------------
A jolt of pain ripped Aragorn out of the comforting darkness. He was unable to help the yelp that escaped him as he felt a searing pain in his shoulder.

"Easy, now," a soft voice said as he felt pressure against his shoulder. The pressure triggered another wave of pain, and he groaned, trying to squirm away from the hands holding him down. "Just relax," the voice came again, and a gentle hand stilled his movements. "The worst is over. We have removed the arrow, but the wound still needs to be tended. Try to be still, and it will be over soon."

Recognition filtered through Aragorn's fuzzy mind, and he pried open his eyes to see the wavy form of his brother hovering over him. "It hurts, 'Ro," he whispered. "Saes, make it stop."

Elrohir looked up with surprise at his twin, who was placing stitches into the young man's shoulder. Very few of the Dúnedain could tell them apart, and even fewer ever called them by their nicknames. If any of them were to use a nickname, it would likely be the common nickname El, simply because they did not know which twin was which. Elladan's eyes had also widened in surprise at the young man's words. They did not even know this man well. He had only been introduced to them a few days ago, as this was his first patrol. The twins stared at each other for a moment before Elladan shook his head and turned back to treating the injury as Elrohir brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into the young man's eyes. "I will make a tea to dull the pain." He stood up and crossed over to the fire, where they had water boiling to sterilize instruments and to be used to make up various teas as they were needed.

A temporary camp had been set up a short distance from the battle site to tend the wounded. Those men who were able were cleaning up after the battle, piling and burning the bodies of the orcs, and standing watch for any other enemies or predators drawn to the scent of blood. Elladan and Elrohir had directed the wounded to be laid on the ground near each other in a very small clearing to be tended to.

Fixing a cup of pain-numbing tea, Elrohir went back to where Elladan had just finished stitching up the injury in Eradan's shoulder and had begun to pack healing herbs against the injury before bandaging it. As soon as Elladan had finished, Elrohir helped the young man to sit up to help him drink the tea. The man, boy really, Elrohir thought, grimaced at the smell as if he knew what it would taste like before he drank the tea down quickly. "Hannon le," he whispered as Elrohir laid him gently back down. The pain and sedatives in the tea quickly pulled him back down into a peaceful slumber, which was good, since they next needed to treat the gash in the young man's side.

When they had treated and stitched up his injuries, they moved on to the next injured man, and the next, and the next. There were no other healers in the patrol, and while most of the Rangers could help out with battle injuries, the twins still liked to check every patient for themselves. When they had finished with all of the wounded, they sat wearily down near the fire to take a rest and get a bite to eat. As they rested, Arathorn came over and sat down across from them. "How are they doing?" he asked them, gesturing back over to where they had laid out the wounded.

Elladan sighed. "We have treated all of the injuries. There are two who will not live out the night. Most of the others will likely heal completely with time as long as their injuries do not become infected. A few of the injuries were poisoned, and we have done the best we can to counteract the poison."

Arathorn looked down at the ground and sighed heavily. He wore a bandage on his right arm, but was otherwise uninjured. "We lost too many in this attack."

"We almost lost you," Elrohir pointed out. He, Elladan, and Arathorn had all seen how close Arathorn had come to being killed by that arrow. If it had not been for the young man now lying among the wounded, the Chieftain of the Dúnedain would have fallen in this battle.

Arathorn sighed and looked back toward the wounded as he was reminded of his close call and the young man who had saved his life. "How is Eradan? Will he be well?"

Elladan nodded slightly. "With time, he should heal completely. His injuries are painful, but we managed to stop the bleeding, and the only danger from his injuries now stems from the possibility of infection. We will keep a close watch to be sure that does not happen."

"Good," Arathorn said, looking back at the twins. "I owe him my life." He looked down, shaking his head in sorrow. "I only wish I did not have such news to give him when he awakes."

Elladan and Elrohir nodded. Arathorn had told them that Eradan's father was one of the casualties of this battle. The young man, who was only twenty years of age had lost his father on his very first patrol. Since Eradan had no other family, Arathorn planned to take him under his wing and watch out for him. This would be a very difficult thing for the young man to face and Arathorn intended for Eradan to know he was not alone.

"How are Gilraen and Aragorn doing after all of this?" Elladan asked in concern, glancing toward the small tent that had been hastily set up to shelter the Chieftain's family.

Arathorn sighed. "Gilraen is shaken, but holding up well. She was finally able to calm Aragorn down. He is sleeping now."

"No child should have to experience something like this," Elrohir said softly.

"I know." Arathorn's expression was pained as he spoke. "That is the whole reason I am bringing them to Imladris. They are not safe out in the wilds anymore. I do not trust that they would be safe even in one of our villages. I know it is earlier than usual to bring him, but these times are becoming ever more dangerous. I cannot allow any harm to come to him. Too much depends on him." Arathorn's voice rose slightly as he expressed the fear he felt for his family's safety, and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

Elladan reached out and laid a hand on Arathorn's shoulder. "And he will be safe in Imladris. Fear not." He briefly squeezed the shoulder under his hand before dropping his arm back to his side. "Now we only need to arrive there in one piece." The last line was spoken in a soft undertone that only Elrohir could hear.

Arathorn stood after another moment, moving among the remaining uninjured men, setting the watches for the night. They would not be able to move out until the next morning at the earliest. The had already begun to bury the dead, and if what the twins had said held true, there would be more dead to bury before morning.

------------------------------

When Aragorn next became aware of his surroundings, he first heard voices. There were low, murmuring voices nearby. His mind was too muddled to make sense of what they were saying, but they were familiar and comforting, so he let his mind drift for a while. Feeling a warm hand check his forehead for signs of fever, he decided he should try to wake up and reassure whoever it was that he was well. It was more of a struggle to open his eyes than he would have expected. The forest was dark around him, lit only by the light of a couple of fires scattered through the small camp.

"He is waking," a soft voice called as Aragorn slowly pried his eyes open.

When he was finally able to gaze, somewhat blearily, at those around him, he saw Elladan moving away, and Arathorn crouching down beside him.

"Adar?" Aragorn asked hoarsely. This was beyond anything he had expected. His father was here, beside him. The events of the day flashed briefly before his eyes, and Aragorn sighed in satisfaction. A few injuries were a price he was more than willing to pay for the chance to save his father's life.

A grimace crossed Arathorn's face briefly before it smoothed out into a serious look. "I am sorry, Eradan," he said softly. "Your father did not survive the battle. He was killed while protecting my wife and child."

Aragorn shook his head weakly back and forth in confusion. How could his father have died if Arathorn was the one telling him this? Realization hit a moment later. He had nearly forgotten that he was not Aragorn to those around him, but a young ranger by the name of Eradan. It was Eradan's father who had not survived the battle. Aragorn closed his eyes in grief. While he had not known Elendur, it was always a hard thing to lose men in battle. Aragorn also felt a pang of guilt that he had deprived the father and son of their last day together by taking the place of the young man.

Opening his eyes once more as he felt a hand come to rest on his good shoulder, Aragorn looked up into his father's face as Arathorn spoke. "I know that nothing I say right now will ease your grief, but you must know that you are not alone, Eradan. The others and I will help you through this. You must not hesitate to ask for anything you need."

Aragorn nodded slightly, taking care not to jostle his injured shoulder. "Hannon le, hîr nin." (Thank you, my lord.)

Patting his shoulder gently, Arathorn rose to his feet, nodded once more to Aragorn, and left him alone to grieve. Aragorn closed his eyes again and let his mind wander, trying to figure out where he went from here. He would have to be very careful in his words and actions, not wanting to make those around him suspicious. They must believe that he was the young man they knew as Eradan. As he was pondering his new situation, the pain and remnants of the earlier sedative pulled him gently down into a healing sleep.

----------------------------------------------------------

When Aragorn next woke, there were many voices and a sense of movement around him. Opening his eyes, he glanced around and saw that the camp was being packed up as the Dúnedain prepared to leave. The bright light of the morning shone down through the tops of the trees, indicating that it was later than they normally would have left. Aragorn knew they had likely wanted to allow the injured just a few extra hours of rest before moving them. Forcing himself to a sitting position, he grimaced as the movement pulled on his injuries. Lifting the edge of his shirt, he examined the injury to his side. Though the sword had not likely hit any vital organs, the gash was deep enough and long enough that he would have bled to death had it not been treated. The stitches holding the edges of the gash together were neat and precise, just as Elladan's stitches always were. Nodding in approval, he let the shirt fall and lifted his head to meet the eyes of his brother as Elladan approached him.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Elladan asked him as he crouched down and repeated Aragorn's recent motions of checking on the injury. Seeing no obvious signs of infection, he released the edge of the shirt and quickly checked the shoulder wound before looking at Aragorn.

"I am well," Aragorn replied. He had certainly obtained injuries far worse than this in his life, though he made no comment to that effect since it was doubtful that Eradan would have suffered worse than this in his life.

Elladan's eyebrow rose in an uncanny imitation of Lord Elrond. "No pain?" Elladan asked skeptically.

Aragorn ducked his head before looking back up at Elladan. "Not as much as before," he answered truthfully.

"Will you be able to ride?" Elladan asked him. "We must leave here shortly." He quickly fashioned a sling and arranged Eradan's arm so that he would be less likely to move or strain his injured shoulder. He saw the young man quickly hide the wince of pain that crossed his face as Elladan moved his arm into the sling.

"I will be fine," Aragorn answered. He nodded to Elladan. "Thank you for helping me. I seem to owe you my life."

"As I owe you mine," a voice said. Aragorn looked up and saw Arathorn standing behind him.

"Hîr nin," Aragorn said, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "It was nothing more than my duty. I could not let you be harmed if it was within my power to prevent it. Your people need you. Your family needs you." Aragorn wanted to climb to his feet as he spoke with his father, but knew better than to attempt that just yet.

Arathorn crouched down and stared at the young man before him. Eradan stared back steadily, not flinching from his regard. "Nevertheless," Arathorn finally said, "putting yourself in the path of an arrow meant for me took great courage." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I saw some of your battle, and you fought like a much more experienced warrior. How did you come by such skills?"

Aragorn lightly shrugged his good shoulder. "I had good teachers, and they said I was a natural when it came to fighting. As for putting myself in front of the arrow…there was not so much courage as you might think. I do not believe I actually thought about it at all. I simply reacted to the moment." Aragorn had a slightly self-deprecating smile on his face.

Arathorn shook his head. "Do not attempt to undermine what you have done for me. It was a selfless and courageous act, and I will not forget it." Reaching over and placing a hand on the boy's good shoulder, Arathorn studied his face. "I would like you to become a permanent part of my company. You would stay by my side and be under my direct command. I owe you and your father a debt I cannot repay, but I would like to do what I may for you. Would you consider such a thing?"

Aragorn was speechless for a long moment. He had not expected such a boon as to be granted the chance to spend so much time with his father. Shaking his head to break himself out of his shock, he bowed his head to Arathorn. "It would be an honor, hîr nin. Thank you."

A small smile graced Arathorn's lips as he looked at the stunned look on Eradan's face. "Thank you for accepting," he said. Standing, he looked over at Elladan, who had been watching the scene with a serious look on his face. "Will he be able to ride?"

Elladan nodded an affirmative, and Arathorn looked back at Eradan. "Good, you will ride beside me and my family."

Aragorn watched with amazement as Arathorn strode off to see about getting the camp ready to leave. Elladan moved back over to Aragorn's side with a cup of tea and some bread and dried meat. "Here, you should eat before we leave."

Aragorn glanced suspiciously at the tea. "May I ask what is in that tea? I cannot afford to fall asleep as I am riding."

Elladan smiled slightly. "There are some herbs in it that will help with the pain, but it is nothing that should make you drowsy."

"Hannon le," Aragorn said, reaching for the food and tea with his uninjured arm and beginning to eat. "Is there anything else?" Aragorn asked as Elladan showed no signs of leaving, simply sitting back and watching him.

"Why did you call my brother 'Ro when you woke earlier?" Elladan asked.

"Did I?" Aragorn asked with a confused look on his face. He honestly did not remember what he might have said the first time he woke up. Though it was very likely that he did say something he should not have, thinking that he was talking to his brothers.

"You called my brother 'Ro and asked him to help stop the pain," Elladan said.

Aragorn shook his head as if he were at a loss to explain why he had said such a thing. "I do not remember what I may or may not have said when I first awoke. All I remember is the pain. Please let your brother know I meant no disrespect."

Elladan studied him for a moment. "He took no offense. We merely wondered how you knew to call him that. Only those who know us well can tell us apart, and it was interesting that you called him by a shortened version of the correct name."

Aragorn simply shrugged again, and after another last look, Elladan stood to go help prepare some of the other injured for the journey. Hanging his head, Aragorn closed his eyes. He would have to be much more careful. Treating the twins like they were the brothers he had grown up with would surely reveal that he was not who he seemed to be. After he finished his meal, he stood carefully to his feet and went to find and prepare his horse. He found that his horse was ready and waiting for him, with all his supplies already stored in the saddlebags. Aragorn smiled his thanks at the Ranger who stood nearby, ready to help if needed. Though it was not as easy as usual, Aragorn was able to climb into the saddle without seeking help. Most of the camp was on horseback and ready to go by this time, with some injured being helped onto their own horses, while those unable to ride on their own would be riding back with someone else. Aragorn found his place behind Arathorn, Gilraen and two-year-old Aragorn, and the journey continued.

The rest of the ride to Imladris was uneventful, though they were all on their guard for the rest of the journey. Aragorn breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief as they passed through the entrance to Imladris. They had made it, he was home again. At that thought, he had to correct himself. This was not Eradan's home, though for Aragorn, it would always remain such. Dismounting their horses in the courtyard, the injured were directed or helped into the healing ward. Aragorn was ushered to the very familiar rooms along with the other injured. Finding himself directed to lie down on a bed, Aragorn finally admitted to himself how much pain he was in. Riding with his injuries was not something he would have chosen to do had it not been necessary. Now, resting in a safe, comfortable and very familiar place, he could admit how much he needed the pain-killing tea that one of the healers brought him. Knowing he could do nothing else at the moment, he allowed himself to give in to the sedatives and drift off to a deep sleep.

A/N: There is a slight deviation from canon in this story. Rather than having Arathorn slain when he was 'riding against the orcs with the sons of Elrond', I have assumed that Aragorn and Gilraen were with him and they were heading to Imladris to live for a time. In the Silmarillion it says 'In that house [the house of Elrond] were harboured the Heirs of Isildur, in childhood and old age, because of the kinship of their blood with Elrond himself…'. The quote continues, but this made me think that Aragorn would have been taken to Imladris for his own protection at some point, so why not when he was two? The twins are still there, acting as escort, but they were not out specifically to hunt orcs. I know that is not Tolkien's version, but I need things to happen a bit differently for this story to work. Therefore, this story can be considered slightly AU. I am also using a history created for Elladan and Elrohir by Cassia and Sio. I do have their permission to use Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen, which were their creations.

Please read and review. If you have any ideas for changes to the history of Middle-earth that you would like to suggest as the story progresses, please feel free to e-mail me at mistycracraft at yahoo.com and let me know what they are. If they fit well with other plot elements I have planned, I may use them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Three

Elladan and Elrohir were happy to see the entrance to the valley that housed Imladris. They had been quite anxious on the return trip to reach their home and reassure themselves that their mother was well. Glorfindel had kept a close eye on both of them the entire trip, which they were beginning to find a bit unnerving. The opportunity to talk to him and explain everything that they could would hopefully help him to better accept them. If they could not convince him that they could be trusted, they could soon find themselves trying to explain their situation to their father, something that they sorely hoped to avoid.

"We're home," Elladan said, looking at Elrohir riding beside him. The grin on his face showed the relief he felt at being able to say that.

"And basically in one piece," Elrohir pointed out. "Ada will be pleasantly surprised, I think."

"We are not that bad," Elladan protested. "Not nearly so bad as…"

"But he does not know that," Elrohir pointed out as Elladan's voice faded out, realizing that of course, Elrond did not know how many times in the future he would end up patching up Aragorn and Legolas as they dragged each other home from one misadventure or another.

"True," Elladan said with a sigh. "He has not had that experience yet, so he still thinks that we are prone to finding trouble."

Elrohir laughed lightly at that, and Glorfindel, riding just behind them, wondered who they were talking about. They were conversing softly, so only he was able to overhear them. He would have to caution them about speaking of future events where they could be overheard, however.

As they reined their horses to a stop in the courtyard and dismounted, Elrond came down the steps from the house to greet them. His eyes roamed over his sons as they came to stand in front of him, checking for injuries. As he noticed Elladan's limp, his eyes narrowed, but since his son was at least walking under his own power, Elrond decided it was not worth causing a fuss over, and turned to Glorfindel, asking for a report.

"The orcs were where Elrohir said they would be," Glorfindel started his report. "We destroyed all of them, though we took four casualties in the battle." Elrond closed his eyes in pain at the thought of the immortal lives that had been cut down. Glorfindel gave Elrond the rest of his report and stood still, awaiting his response.

Elrond nodded to him. "Hannon le, Glorfindel. Please see that all of the injured report to the healing ward, and I will join them shortly. I must go notify the families of those who did not survive."

Glorfindel would have offered to do that himself, but he well knew that Elrond would insist on taking that responsibility upon himself. He bowed slightly. "Of course, hîr nin." He turned back to the others, gathering up and ordering all those who had been injured to the healing ward.

Elrond frowned as he saw both of his sons being directed to go with the injured, but simply nodded to them in acknowledgment for the moment, reaching out to gently touch their shoulders as they passed by him, then turned to go relay the bad news. His sons had returned safely, and seemed well enough for now. He would get the full story from them later, but for now, he had to think about the families whose sons had not returned.

-------------------------------------------------------

Elladan and Elrohir were quickly released from the healing ward. Their injuries were declared minor and well on their way to healing fully. As the twins had been trained by their father, they had taken care of each other's injuries as well as any of the other healers would have. Luckily, the weapons that had caused their injuries had not been poisoned, and the injuries had not become infected. Declaring that there was nothing else to be done for them, they were released to return to their own rooms, though they had been warned to use their injured limbs sparingly until they had healed a bit more. Celebrían had come down immediately to check on them, and they had reassured her that they were both well. After speaking with the healers to get an objective opinion, Celebrían had reluctantly released her sons to go get cleaned up. She had, however, insisted on getting the full story of what had happened over dinner that evening.

The twins had returned to their own rooms for a bath and a fresh change of clothing before meeting back up in a sitting room nearby to talk. Glorfindel, after having seen to the rest of the members of the patrol, had adjourned to his own quarters to refresh himself before tracking down the twins to have that discussion they had promised. Knowing they had long ago claimed the sitting room near their rooms as their own, he tried there first. Though the door was open, he knocked lightly on the doorframe before entering and glancing around the room to be sure the twins were alone. His eyes roamed past the shelves lining the walls, covered with books, scrolls, and a variety of small treasures and decorative items. A quick glance passed the collection of weapons in one corner and the soft leather covered chairs sitting empty. After ascertaining that the twins were the only occupants of the room, Glorfindel closed the door and took a seat near them.

Glorfindel stared at the identical faces for a moment, and was inwardly pleased to see the same look of trepidation on their faces. It seemed that he was still able to intimidate the twins, despite their earlier bravado. "You may begin, now," he said, glancing from one to the other.

Elrohir sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, which now hung loose about his shoulders. "But where do we begin? What I told you earlier is true. We still do not know who sent us back here or why we were given this opportunity."

Glorfindel shook his head, seeing that this would be more difficult than he thought. "Start with something simple. How far in the future are you from? What was happening before you woke up and found yourself here?"

Elrohir looked at his brother with an eyebrow raised in question. Elladan shook his head. "I don't know how much we can tell you," Elrohir said. "We were warned to be careful about what we changed and who we told. There are certain events that must happen for history to progress as it should, and we do not want to do anything that might prevent those events. It is risky enough that we know of these future events. I do not know what will happen if we tell you about them."

"If you do not tell me, I will be obligated to inform your father, and then there will be more people who are aware that you are from the future," Glorfindel answered. He would not allow them to avoid telling him their full story.

Elrohir sighed and hung his head. "We come from a time just over 500 years from now. There are many events that I cannot tell you about. History is too fragile, and there are several events which are very important for Middle-earth. We will tell you what we can, but we cannot take the chance that those events will be changed. Will you accept those terms?"

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. By reading between the lines of Elrohir's statements, it seemed that 500 years from now there would be a critical juncture in the history of Middle-earth. Glorfindel knew how fragile those junctures could be. A single choice could turn the tide for good or evil. It seemed that things had happened for the good, or they would not be so insistent that things happen as they did before. Knowing that, he would be content to let the details stay hidden from him. Unless the twins proved untrustworthy, he would let them choose which things he should know. However, if they stayed off of the subject of those certain events, there were still many other questions he wanted answers to. "Very well," he nodded. "I will allow that there are certain things you may not wish to speak of for fear of damaging the future. I would still like answers to other questions."

Elladan nodded. "We will answer what we can. What would you like to know?"

"Exactly what were you doing before you ended up here and how did you know that you were sent back to save Celebrían?" Glorfindel stared at the twins. This question had never been answered to his satisfaction. "I'd also like to hear more about Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen. In the cave, you said you would not have the strength to turn from that path a second time. How did you do so the first time?" Having seen even a brief glimpse of that rage in their eyes, he was quite impressed that they had had the strength to turn from that path.

Elrohir looked back at Elladan, asking silently how much they could tell Glorfindel. Both of the tales Glorfindel asked to hear involved Aragorn. Could they tell about Aragorn without drastically altering their time?

Elladan knew exactly what Elrohir was asking. He shook his head slowly. "We have to be very careful here, El. How can we mention him without affecting the future?"

"How can we not mention him? Do you realize how many times we've already almost slipped and said his name? He's too much a part of our lives not to be able to talk about him." Elrohir waved his hand slightly to make his point.

Elladan sighed and looked down for a moment, lost in thought.

Glorfindel watched the two of them and tried to make sense of their very cryptic conversation. Whatever they were considering discussing with him must have a great impact on the future for there to be this kind of debate about whether to tell him. It all seemed to revolve around one person, and he began to wonder who this person could possibly be.

Elladan looked up and with a serious look in his eyes, met Glorfindel's questioning gaze. "First, I must have your vow that you will not say anything about what we will tell you here. The person we will speak of has not yet been born, and we cannot let mention of him be made to anyone. I still am not sure if we should tell you about this, but we cannot truly answer your questions otherwise. Even if you later decide to tell Adar that we are from the future, you must not mention this."

Glorfindel thought it over for a long moment. Once he gave the vow, he could not go back on it. He still did not know whether or not the twins in front of him were trustworthy, but he would not betray his word. Looking at them, though, he knew that he would never hear their story if he did not give this vow. "You have it. I will never repeat what you choose to tell me about this person."

Elladan leaned back into his chair and breathed a sigh of relief. That was one less worry. He knew Glorfindel well enough to know that once a vow was made, it would be kept.

"Who is this person that you are so hesitant to speak of?" Glorfindel asked. His curiosity was nearly eating him alive at this point.

Elladan glanced over at Elrohir and received a small shrug in response, so he looked back at Glorfindel and answered his question. "The person we are speaking of is our little brother."

Glorfindel just stared blankly at him. Of all the responses he had expected, that had not even been on the list. The twins had a brother? If Elrond had remained behind when Celebrían sailed, that would mean… But no, he could not imagine Elrond ever finding another love, not when Celebrían awaited his arrival in Valinor. And yet, they said this person had not yet been born… Though his countenance did not reveal his inner turmoil, his thoughts whirled crazily about his mind. He just could not bring himself to think that of Elrond, but if the twins were telling the truth…

Elrohir's voice broke into his thoughts. "Foster brother, Glorfindel. He is not related by blood, though we could not love him any more if he had been a blood brother."

At that, Glorfindel sighed inwardly in relief, though his impassive expression kept his thoughts hidden. He had hated thinking such a thing of Elrond, even for a moment. Considering how quickly Elrohir had jumped in with an explanation, however, maybe he had not hidden his confusion as well as he had thought. He focused his gaze on first one twin, then the other with a silent demand to know more.

It was Elrohir who picked up the tale. "You asked about Glamferaen and Delfhalen?" At Glorfindel's nod, he began to explain. "We spent much of our time over the centuries after Nana sailed riding with the Dúnedain. Though we became friends with many of them over the years, we knew that they were destined to die in what was to us, a very short time. Knowing that, we held a part of ourselves back, being their friends, but not truly letting them into our hearts. We were escorting a group of Dúnedain when the orcs attacked. We were able to defeat them, but at a high cost. There was a family traveling with the Dúnedain that day. The man, who was a friend of ours, was killed. We failed him. His wife and two-year-old child survived, but they had seen far too much in that battle. We took them both to Imladris, and Adar agreed to take them in. They needed a place of safety to recover from all that they had seen and experienced. The child had nightmares for many weeks, and his mother was too lost in her own grief and pain to be able to comfort and console him the way he needed. He turned to us for that comfort, often seeking out Elladan or I in the middle of the night to chase away the monsters in his dreams. Without even trying, he broke down every wall we had erected around ourselves. Our desire to ride out into endless battles with the orcs faded, and we found ourselves staying home for longer periods, wanting to be home with him."

Elladan interrupted his brother to explain in more detail. "By the time he came into our lives, we had grown weary of the battles, but did not see any other choice. Our initial rage and pain had faded, leaving mostly emptiness in its wake. The love of a two-year-old child filled all those empty places in our hearts. He healed us in a way that no one else could. Adar quickly came to see him as a son as well. He truly became one of us and was raised as a son of Elrond. In every way that counts, he is our little brother." They were both being careful not to give away too much information about Aragorn, keeping things very general and not mentioning his name or the names of anyone involved.

Glorfindel began piecing things together that the twins had not told him. It was likely that this brother of theirs was one of Isildur's descendants. Even now, the children in the line of kings were brought to Rivendell at a young age for tutoring and to allow them to grow up in safety, though they were usually older than two years when they were brought here. But none of the children were ever treated as such a close member of the family. Yes, Elrond acknowledged their kinship, but he never called one of them his son. What was it about this child that was so special? He decided to ask the question.

A fond smile crossed the faces of both twins as they tried to figure out how to answer that question.

"He brought life and joy and laughter back to a home that had long been without it," Elrohir finally answered. "After Naneth sailed, Ada's smiles and laughter were all too rare. I suppose the same was said of us, but no one could resist returning his smiles." Elrohir glanced over at Elladan. He was getting tired of having to avoid saying Aragorn's name. It was getting somewhat awkward. Raising an eyebrow at his brother, he silently asked his opinion on whether he could give Aragorn a name.

Elladan shrugged one shoulder. He was having the same problem, so it was fine with him to name him, but the expression on his face made it clear he thought they should not use Aragorn's true name.

A hand gesture relayed Elrohir's query as to what they should call him, if not his name.

Elladan chuckled slightly and raised an eyebrow back at his brother. The words were clear, if not actually spoken. 'He has many names, choose one.'

An answering smile spread across Elrohir's face, and he nodded to Elladan.

Glorfindel watched the silent conversation taking place. He was never quite sure in moments like this whether the twins could actually speak mind to mind as Galadriel could, or whether they simply knew each other so well that they needed no words to speak. He saw when a decision had been made, though.

Elrohir continued his tale. "Adar named him Estel when he came to live here, and that is what he was, our hope that things could get better, that we could heal of the wounds we had inflicted on our own fëa."

Elladan grinned over at him. "And you were hardly immune to his charms either, Glorfindel. Next to us and Ada, Estel had no fiercer a protector than you. You would allow no harm to come to him while he lived here."

"At least he tried," Elrohir cut in. "Even from an early age, Estel attracted all sorts of trouble. Even the great Glorfindel could not keep him from all harm." Elrohir raised one eyebrow and glanced over at Elladan, prompting him to consider all of the 'incidents' that had befallen Estel.

Elladan nodded, granting him that point. "Nonetheless, Estel had nearly every member of this household ready to face any enemy to protect him."

At Glorfindel's very skeptical expression, Elrohir started laughing. "Yes, Glorfindel, even you and Erestor, though Erestor had a different way of showing his affection."

Elladan sobered, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. "Now you see why we insisted that you do not say a word of this. Even if Adar finds out that we are from the future, we cannot simply tell him that he will take in a human child and love him as a son. We could irrevocably change events simply by the telling. It is a bit of a risk even having you know. You will be an important part of his life, and I hate to think that you would treat him differently simply because you know about him ahead of time. Can you imagine how much worse it would be for one who would be a father to him?"

Glorfindel nodded slowly. He was finding it quite odd to be told he would come to love a child that would not be born for centuries. It would be rather worse for Elrond, were he to know. This was one secret he felt he could keep. The rest of it however… "Very well. I will hold to my vow. Now, as to my other question…" He leveled an intense stare at them, causing them both to squirm slightly in their seats.

"That is a bit more confusing," Elladan said. "We were sitting and talking with Estel. He and his wife just had their first child, and he was thinking back to his own life. He wondered what his life would have been like had his father lived. With his father dying when he was two, Estel never had the chance to know him. Of all the regrets he had, that was the one that weighed most heavily on his mind. We ended up discussing our regrets, and El and I of course said that not being able to save Nana was our greatest regret. After a time, we all fell asleep. El and I shortly found ourselves in a place that had no light. We could see nothing, not even each other." Elladan proceeded to tell Glorfindel what the bodiless voice had told them about taking the place of their younger selves and being very careful about what changes they made and who they told, as even small changes could have powerful consequences.

Glorfindel frowned at one part of the story. "If you were sent back to take the place of your younger selves, where did the Elladan and Elrohir of this time go?"

Elrohir winced anew at the thought. "We don't know. All we know of this, you now know. We don't know who sent us back or why. Where our younger selves are…" his voice trailed off, and he waved a hand in a vague gesture to indicate that he did not know.

"I had half expected us to go back to our own time after we secured Nana's safety," Elladan said softly. "I did not think that we would stay here. At this point, I do not know what the future holds for us, odd as that may sound. Are we going to end up reliving the next few centuries?" For a moment, Elladan looked very young. "Glorfindel, I do not know what will happen to us."

"We were told we would have to live with the consequences of our actions," Elrohir reminded his brother. "Perhaps the being who sent us here had no intention of sending us home again."

"But why?" Elladan asked. "That is the question that I cannot get out of my mind. Why were we sent back in the first place? Why keep us here? Were his intentions for good or evil? I welcome the chance to save Naneth, but my heart warns me that this was not done simply to allow us that chance. What if this being wants us to change things so that certain future events do not happen? Why was this done to us, El?" Elladan brushed his hands through his hair in frustration, then stood up and paced over to the window to stare out blankly at the view beyond.

In the voice of the eldest twin, Glorfindel heard the fear and confusion that reminded him of the twins as elflings. At that moment, Glorfindel knew that no matter what the twins had been through in the centuries between their times, they were still the sons of Elrond that he had sworn to protect from the day they were born. They were as confused by this situation as he was. His decision was made; he would keep their secret. They would need him as an ally in this. And at the moment, they needed some reassurance.

"I do not know why you were sent back, either, but you may want to look on this as a second chance," Glorfindel said.

"Second chance?" Elladan asked, turning to face Glorfindel, his brow crinkling in confusion.

"You have Celebrían back," Glorfindel pointed out. "This is your second chance to live your lives as you would have had she not sailed."

Glorfindel saw his point sink home for the twins as he watched a gentle smile spread across both their faces. Noticing the worried look that crossed Elladan's face a moment later, he sighed softly. Elladan was always the protector, the one who tried to control things that were often well out of his control. "Elladan, until this being makes another appearance, there is little you can do. Enjoy this time with Celebrían and your family. We will face whatever comes as it comes." Elladan nodded slowly to indicate that he would try to do as Glorfindel suggested. "And now, I believe it is time to join the others for dinner. I believe your parents are expecting a report from you."

Glorfindel smiled inwardly at the winces that crossed the identical faces. Apparently, even several centuries of hunting orcs could not serve to blunt their unease at the idea of facing Elrond when they felt guilty about something. In this case, Glorfindel knew that they felt very guilty at the thought that they would have to lie to their parents. He had seen that in their faces throughout their story. Standing, he gestured toward the door. The twins reluctantly stood, took deep fortifying breaths, and then strode through the door to head in to dinner. Glorfindel followed, wondering what the future would bring for all of them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time they reached the dining room, Elrond, Celebrían, Arwen and Erestor were already seated. Erestor and Glorfindel often, though not always, joined their family for the evening meal, and today, the twins were rather grateful for that fact. They felt they would need Glorfindel's support for this meal. The early part of the meal passed with light, pleasant talk about a wide variety of topics. Once the meal was consumed, however, Elrond turned to the twins and began the conversation they had dreaded.

"I believe it is time for that report you had promised to give," he said, staring at the twins. He eyed first Elrohir then Elladan. "The healers tell me that your injuries are well on their way to healing completely."

Elladan nodded. "Yes, Adar. Do not be concerned. They were truly little more than scratches." He shot a sidelong glance at Elrohir with a faint smile at speaking the refrain they had heard so often from both Aragorn and Legolas. He looked back at his father and began the report that he was expecting. The report was straightforward and succinct, giving all of the important details, but not mentioning much beyond the pertinent facts. Elladan told of finding the orcs exactly where they expected them, a little bit about the battle, and of the aftermath; the injuries and deaths the elves had suffered. "The return trip was uneventful, and then we arrived home and were directed to the healing ward," Elladan finished his report with a shrug, indicating that Elrond knew the rest of the tale from there.

Elrond frowned slightly. Though the bulk of the report he was just given matched the other reports he had heard, Elladan seemed to have left out a few things. "I have heard from some of the others that your fighting styles seemed to have changed since you last rode out with the patrols. I believe I heard one of the others say that you fought as those possessed. None had ever seen that ferocity in either of you before. Would you care to tell me what it was that the others saw in you?"

Elrohir barely refrained from giving his brother a panicked look, and kept his face impassive as he answered his father's question. "It was the vision I had, Ada." His voice was soft as he answered, and his eyes showed the pain he had experienced as he met his father's gaze. "I could not get the sight of Nana at their hands out of my mind. The thought that those foul creatures would have attacked her…" He broke off and sighed deeply. "It drove the both of us to a level of 'ferocity' that we have never had use for before."

"Does that explain the differences in your fighting skills?" Elrond asked. There was something else going on here, but he could not pin it down at the moment.

"They have been putting in extra hours on the training field, hîr nin," Glorfindel put in suddenly.

Elrond raised an eyebrow at the interruption, but when Glorfindel chose not to say anything else, Elrond looked back to the twins. They seemed nervous about something, but it was obvious that they were not willing to speak of it yet. Choosing to let it go for now, Elrond knew that if it were something the twins felt he should know, he would find out eventually. Changing topics slightly, he broached the subject of Elrohir's vision.

"Your vision was apparently a true one, Elrohir. We had thought that perhaps you and your brother and sister would be spared the gift and curse that visions can be. In some cases, as in this one, visions enable us to change things for the better, to prevent something or change something ahead of time. Many times, however, the visions show us what may come to pass, but they are often things we have no control over. It can be quite distressing to know that something may be happening, but have no power to change it. It can also bring about a sense of guilt or false responsibility if a tragedy happens and you did not foresee it. Foreknowledge is a tricky thing, my sons. I want you both to promise me that you will come to me with any future visions either of you may have. They are often not as clear-cut as this one, and will perhaps take time to decipher. Having some experience with this subject, I would prefer that you come to me with any visions you have and we can determine what, if anything, should be done about them together." He looked back and forth between the twins, with a glance at Arwen to include her in the promise. After all, she had the same chances of developing this ability. "Are we all agreed?"

"Agreed, Adar," Elladan said with a serious nod.

"Agreed," Elrohir nodded as well, before continuing. "Though I do not know if we will have any more visions." He jumped slightly as he felt Elladan's foot make sharp contact with his ankle under the table. "However, if we do, we will be sure to tell you." He shot a quick glare in Elladan's direction when his father looked to Arwen.

After getting agreement from all of his children, Elrond relaxed and allowed Celebrían to take over the conversation. Celebrían looked over at the twins. "I owe you both a great deal, my sons. You have saved me and my patrol from a dangerous enemy."

Elladan smiled at his mother. "You owe us nothing, Naneth. El and I would do whatever it took to keep you and the rest of our family safe; you know that. We are only thankful that we were able to keep you from harm in this instance." Elrohir nodded to emphasize Elladan's words, and Celebrían smiled at both of them. They had always been very protective of her from the time they were elflings, and when Arwen had been born, they extended their protectiveness to her as well.

"Yes, ionnath, I do know that. You have ever been my protectors. And since you have cleared out the path between here and Lothlorien, I would like to resume my plans to ride out to visit my parents." She looked over to Glorfindel. "We will remain long enough to be present at the memorial." A shadow of sorrow passed over her face at the reminder of those who had died in the recent battle. "I will be leaving a week hence. Would you please see to preparing an escort for me?"

Glorfindel nodded to her. "Of course, my lady." He planned to increase the number of elves escorting her substantially. After hearing what the twins had told him, he would take no chances. What they had lived through must be prevented at all costs.

"We will be part of that escort," Elladan said firmly, not about to allow Celebrían to leave Imladris without he and Elrohir at her side.

"But you are still recovering from your injuries," Celebrían protested. "I know that the healers told you both to avoid using your injured limbs until you have fully recovered. I would not have either of you injure yourselves anew in an attempt to protect me. Glorfindel's warriors will be protection enough."

Elladan shook his head firmly. "You said you will not leave for a week. Our injuries are minor and will be fully healed by then. We came far too close to losing you once, I will not give those foul creatures a second chance. With us along, none would get near you."

Elrond raised one eyebrow in thought as he watched Elladan. While Elladan had always been over-protective of his family, he thought he detected a new ferocity in his voice and manners. Could this have come simply from Elrohir's visions, or was this something more? He determined to watch his sons closely for the next few days. If there was something bothering them, he would rather they talked it over with him instead of keeping it bottled up inside.

Celebrían glanced toward Elrond before answering. "If your Adar determines that you are healed completely, I would love for you to accompany me. Your grandparents will enjoy the chance to see you as well, despite what happened last time." Her voice lightened at the end, and there was a hint of laughter in her voice.

Elrohir's mouth quirked up at the corners as he remembered the prank that had roused Galadriel's anger. "Do not fear, Nana. I can assure you that we will do nothing of the kind on this trip."

Elladan smiled as well. "Haldir has too poor a sense of humor, Nana." As he saw the frown starting on his father's face, he hastened to add to his statements. "However, I will promise that El and I will be on our best behavior this time. We will give you no cause to regret bringing us." He glanced over at Elrohir. "Isn't that right, little brother?"

Elrohir nodded his agreement. He would agree to anything if it would enable them to travel with Celebrían. Just like Elladan, he would do whatever it took to protect their mother.

After the twins convinced their parents to let them join the escort to Lothlorien, the conversation and the meal soon came to an end. Glorfindel rolled his eyes as he followed the twins out. They were discussing, with a great deal of glee, just what they had done to poor Haldir on their last trip. Apparently, some things never changed.

Chapter Four

Aragorn snuggled deeper into the blankets covering him. The dreams he had been having were quite odd, but he did not wish to wake just yet. Thinking that this would be a good morning to stay in bed a little later than usual, he reached over to pull Arwen to his side, then opened his eyes in shock as a jolt of pain shot through his shoulder. Pain? Why was he hurting, what had happened? Just as he was realizing that the ceiling above him was not the one in his bedchamber at Minas Tirith, but another very familiar one, the events of his dream came back to him. Glancing around, Aragorn quickly realized that, yes, he was once again in the healing ward of Imladris. He prodded his aching shoulder with his hand and discovered bandages. Then it had not been a dream. Not sure how any of this could be real, Aragorn pushed himself into a sitting position, then slowly stood to his feet. The healing ward seemed quiet for the moment, with none of the healers in sight. Making his way out of the room and down the hall, he soon found the balcony that he had visited many times in the past. A magnificent view of the valley and waterfall could be seen from here, and Aragorn knew it to be a great place to think.

Leaning against the low wall ringing the balcony, he gazed out over the valley. Hearing voices below him, he leaned out and watched as young Aragorn and Gilraen wandered through the paths of the gardens below the balcony. A smile grew on his face as he watched the younger version of himself and his mother. The laughter drifting up to him brought an answering chuckle from him.

"There is nothing quite like the laughter of children. It has been long since one so young has walked these halls."

Aragorn turned around at the sound of the voice behind him to find Elrond standing in the doorway. Bowing a little stiffly in deference to his injuries, Aragorn murmured "My lord."

Elrond frowned as he approached the railing. "I do not believe you should yet be wandering the halls. Though your injuries are healing, you should do nothing to strain them."

"Your sons tended me well, my lord," Aragorn answered. "If I am careful, there is little pain. And I intend to be very careful until I am healed." Aragorn gave him a rueful grin.

Elrond gestured toward a bench against the wall of the balcony. "That is good to hear. Please sit. I would like to speak with you, and you should still be resting."

Aragorn inclined his head toward Elrond and moved over to sit on the bench. Elrond took the seat beside him, and Aragorn shifted slightly sideways to meet Elrond's gaze. He waited for Elrond to begin speaking.

"How did you know who I am?" Elrond asked him in curiosity. "You and I have never met."

"But I have met your sons, and they resemble you greatly," Aragorn answered smoothly, cursing inwardly. He would really have to be more careful about showing familiarity with things Eradan would not be familiar with. Elrond nodded, seemingly accepting his statement and moved on to the topic that he had meant to broach.

"From the reports I have heard, it seems we all have reason to thank you. You saved Arathorn's life, did you not?" The tone of voice Elrond used showed that the comment was not a question, but did require a response.

Aragorn inclined his head toward Elrond. "No thanks are necessary, my lord. Arathorn is my Chieftain. He has my loyalty and my allegiance. I only did what any Ranger would have done. My duty was to protect him, and I was glad to do so."

Elrond nodded as he accepted Aragorn's words. "Still, you were remarkably lucky to be in just the right place to save his life. No other saw that orc before you shot him and took the arrow meant for Arathorn."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed slightly. Elrond sounded a little suspicious of him. What had he been told about that battle? "Then I am even more thankful that I was where I needed to be," Aragorn answered carefully.

"I was told that you seemed determined to make your way precisely to that point," Elrond continued, "and that you almost seemed to be looking specifically for that orc." Elrond leaned forward a little. "How did you know what to look for, to make your way to the exact place in the battlefield that would enable you to save Arathorn's life? Did you see something beforehand?"

Aragorn thought for a moment in silence. While not many of the Dúnedain had the gift of foresight, it was hardly unheard of. It would help explain how he had been able to save his father's life, and it was certainly true that he had the gift. He was uncertain, however, if Eradan or any of his family had ever had the gift. Well, there was nothing else for it now. He inclined his head slightly to Elrond. "I did see something before the battle. It was not clear, but I feared for Arathorn's life in this battle, and endeavored to stay close to him. I am very glad that I did."

"As are we all," Elrond murmured, studying Aragorn intently. Aragorn met his gaze steadily. "I have also heard that you are very skilled in both the use of a sword and a bow. That level of skill is unusual in one so young."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "How is it that you have so much information about what I was doing in this battle? I would assume that the others were all much too busy with their own enemies to pay much attention to me." He was struggling to keep calm, but was afraid that if this questioning kept up, Elrond would end up getting more of the truth of this matter than Aragorn was comfortable with.

Elrond kept his expression impassive as he watched Aragorn. "As the youngest Ranger in the battle, the others were concerned for you. No one person was able to watch you for the whole battle, but many of them would look for you when they had the opportunity, to be sure you were doing well. In listening to the reports of all of the Rangers, your actions in the battle seem to stand out."

With a small shrug of his good shoulder, Aragorn tried to deflect Elrond's attention. "You may thank my teachers for my skill. I have learned from the best, and they often said that I had a natural skill that they enjoyed training." A quick perusal through Eradan's memories showed that he had no special skills with weapons, though he was skilled enough to be judged ready for patrol. Aragorn barely kept a wince from crossing his face. If anyone truly wanted to check, he could easily be caught in that lie. Elrond's scrutiny was making Aragorn very nervous. He had never truly been able to lie to his father, and he was afraid that if he had to withstand that stare for much longer, he would tell Elrond everything. And that was something that he could not do. After a moment, Elrond leaned back and Aragorn gave a silent sigh of relief as he felt the intensity of the elf lord's stare lessen.

"Arathorn tells me that your father was killed in that battle," Elrond said softly. "You have my sympathy."

Aragorn flinched visibly and looked quickly down at the ground. The guilt he still felt over Elendur's death shone clear on his face. "Thank you," he answered softly.

Elrond saw the guilt Aragorn tried to hide. "There was nothing you could have done," he reassured the young man. "I assume that you had no foreknowledge of his death?"

"No, of course not," Aragorn said, looking up once again. "If I had, perhaps I could have done things differently." Seeing the sympathetic expression on Elrond's face, he continued. "I know that if it were a choice between saving my Adar's life, or saving Arathorn, Adar would have had me save the Chieftain." That knowledge was clear in Eradan's memories. "But if I had known, perhaps I could have done something to save them both."

"It is not always possible to save everyone," Elrond stated. "I do know how much it hurts to lose family, but you must not blame yourself for his death. Grieve for him, but remember all the good about him, and know that he died honorably, saving the life of his Chieftain's wife and son. He ensured the continuation of Elendil's line, and I am sure you will agree that he would consider that worth dying for."

"He would," Aragorn answered firmly. But he could not help but think that by his actions, he had traded the life of one father for another. The thought was likely a false one, as it was probable that whether or not Arathorn died, Elendur still would have given his life to protect Gilraen and Aragorn. Somehow though, he just could not convince himself that he was not to blame, and nothing that Elrond said now would make a difference.

Seeing the grief and guilt that the young man was struggling with, Elrond decided to leave him to his thoughts. Placing a hand on the man's uninjured shoulder, he squeezed it lightly in comfort. "If you wish to talk further, I will be available, as will Arathorn or any of the other Rangers. You do not have to suffer this pain alone."

Aragorn nodded and looked away. He highly doubted he would be discussing this with anyone. He looked back as Elrond stood.

"If you wish to return to the healing ward, a meal will be delivered to you there. There is no rush, however. Take what time you need." Elrond glanced around the balcony. "I have often availed myself of this view when I have much to think on."

Standing as well, Aragorn gave as much of a bow as his injuries would allow. "Thank you, hîr nin."

Elrond nodded to him before turning and walking back into the house. Aragorn sighed and sat back down on the bench. The thoughts that had driven him out here in the first place assailed his mind once more. Why was he here? Why had he not returned to his own time after saving his father? Would he have to live out the rest of his life as Eradan? If that were the case, what had happened to the time he lived in? Would he ever be able to return to Arwen and Eldarion? Was Arwen even now turning Minas Tirith upside down in an attempt to locate her missing husband? He bowed his head and tried not to allow his thoughts to drive him to despair. He had wanted the chance to know his father, but not at this cost.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elrond watched for a moment longer as the young man sank back down to the bench and hunched over, obviously struggling with his grief and pain. Though he wanted to help, he knew that right now, Eradan needed to be alone to experience his feelings without trying to appear strong for someone else.

Striding down the corridor, he entered his library to find his twin sons and Arathorn already there. They were discussing the losses the Dúnedain had recently been dealt and how to re-arrange the patrols to best cover the gaps left in their ranks. The three of them were standing around a table, consulting a map spread out on its surface. Though Elrond well knew the twins would not spend much time at home when there were orcs nearby causing so much pain and destruction, his heart ached as he heard their plans to ride out again as soon as Arathorn's men were healed and ready to travel. He had hoped they would stay a bit longer this time. Suppressing his disappointment, he moved to stand nearby and joined the discussion. After determining how to re-deploy the Dúnedain, Arathorn turned to Elrond and asked him how the wounded fared.

Elrond gave a brief report of each man's condition and an estimate of how long it would be until they were ready to return to duty. After he reported on the last of them, his thought turned to the feeling he had gotten when he had been talking with Eradan. "Arathorn, what are your plans with regard to the young Ranger, Eradan?"

Arathorn looked thoughtful as he gazed over at Elrond. "I had intended to keep him at my side. He has lost the only family he had, and saved my life. I owe it to him to look after him, much as he might think he does not need it. I offered him a place among those who ride with me. Did you see anything that would suggest I should do differently?"

Shaking his head thoughtfully, Elrond hesitated before answering. "No. I was going to suggest that you do exactly that. He has shown himself to be gifted with foresight. He knew that you would be in danger in this battle, and sought to protect you." Arathorn's eyebrows rose in surprise. That was something he had been unaware of.

"Foresight?" Elladan asked, looking over to Elrohir. "Do you think that would explain his familiarity with you? Did he somehow know us that way?"

"What do you mean?" Arathorn asked, confused, glancing back between the twins.

"When we were treating his injuries, he awoke briefly, called me 'Ro, and asked me to stop his pain," Elrohir explained. "We simply wondered how he knew to call me that. Would foreknowledge have told him who I was? Most do not know how to tell us apart, especially not one we have only just met."

Elrond pondered this new information for a moment before answering. He was not truly sure what to make of this new information. "When I spoke with this young man, I did not feel I was speaking to one who had only lived twenty years. He has a wisdom, a presence of one much older." Elrond frowned, feeling he was not explaining himself well, but not quite sure how to articulate the sense he had gotten from the young man. "Though I do not know how, I feel that he will be very important to the future of Middle-earth. You would do well to keep this one close."

Arathorn frowned as he heard a note of warning in Elrond's voice. "What do you sense about this boy? I hear warning in your voice."

Shaking his head, Elrond's frustration was plain. "I cannot well describe what I sense from him. I know he is…more…than he seems to be. I do not feel that he is a danger, just that we should watch him for now."

The conversation moved on after that, and Arathorn left the meeting feeling vaguely dissatisfied. If Elrond sensed something odd about Eradan, he wanted to know what it meant. Pushing the thought aside, he made his way to the gardens where he knew Gilraen would likely be. A smile crossed his face as he heard Aragorn's childish laughter ringing in the still air. Spending time with his family sounded like just the way to chase away his lingering doubts and discomfort.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next few days, many of the injured Rangers were released from the healing ward and given private rooms to finish their recovery in. Aragorn was rather surprised to find that his new room was in a guest room not far from what he considered 'his' room. He had been placed near Arathorn, in the same wing as Elrond and the twins. It did not escape his notice that of all the Rangers, he was the only one placed so near the room of their Chieftain and the regular inhabitants of Elrond's home.

The first time he caught sight of himself in the mirror of his room, he stopped and stared at the unfamiliar face. It felt quite odd to see another person's reflection in the mirror. He took several moments to study the face he now wore. Eradan's hair was a shade lighter than his own, and the grey eyes that stared back had traces of green in them. The face was that of one who was just reaching his full maturity. There was still a slight roundness to his features, which Aragorn knew would not last much longer. Looking at this reflection, Aragorn could well understand why he was being so closely watched by the others. Eradan seemed very young indeed, to his eyes. This was not the face of a seasoned warrior as Aragorn's fighting skills had shown him to be. Aragorn shook his head and watched as a lock of Eradan's hair fell in his face. Pushing the hair out of his way, he turned away from the mirror and examined the room he now inhabited. Hearing Elladan out in the hallway, and wanting to be alone with his thoughts, he closed the door and crossed the room to sit on a soft chair facing the balcony. He had much to think about. How to keep the others from being so suspicious of him was at the top of that list.

After both Elladan and Elrohir stopped by to check in on him, he left his room to find a place slightly more private and retreated to a favored place in the gardens where he could be alone. Over the next few days, the twins and Arathorn went out of their way to check in on him. Feeling rather ill at ease with the close scrutiny he was now under, Aragorn spent little time in his room, taking much time to wander the paths of Rivendell that he loved. He often encountered Elladan, Elrohir, or Arathorn, in seemingly unexpected ways, though he suspected that they were keeping a close watch over him.

A day after he had been given his own room, he came across Gilraen and young Aragorn in the garden. Little Aragorn was watching a small bird hopping around on the grass in search of its next meal, and Gilraen was enjoying the sight of the fresh blossoms while keeping an eye on her child. Stopping in surprise, Aragorn stared at them for a moment. It still struck him as odd every time he saw them. His mother seemed so young, and he just could not get past the thought that the small child was himself. It was quite disorienting. He realized that Gilraen was looking at him in question, and he had been staring at them for some time.

"I am sorry," he said, bowing slightly to her. "I did not mean to bother you." He turned to leave, but stopped at her next words.

"No, please, come sit with me." As he looked back to her, Gilraen gestured to the bench beside her.

Swallowing nervously, Aragorn hesitantly made his way over to her side. "Yes, my Lady?"

She watched him for a moment as he sat down beside her. "How are you feeling?" she asked in concern as she saw the sling he still wore on his arm to restrict the movement of his injured shoulder.

"I am healing well," he answered. "It does not bother me much any more."

Reaching over, she gently grasped his free hand. "You took those injuries saving my husband's life. I owe you more than I can ever repay. I can not imagine my life without my husband in it. Thank you, Eradan."

Looking down momentarily, he could not help but compare the beautiful woman in front of him who was full of life to the grieving widow he remembered from his childhood. Seeing her like this almost made the sacrifices worth it to him. "You owe me nothing," he said. "I can only be glad that I was where I needed to be."

She smiled sadly at him for a moment. "No, Eradan. Do not treat your actions so lightly. You remind me much of your father. Elendur was a trusted Ranger, and a kind man. I regret that he lost his life protecting me and my son."

Aragorn looked up at her eyes. "My father died doing what he felt he had to do. He would not have you feel guilt over his death. His death allowed you to live, and he would have felt that more than worth his sacrifice. He did not die in vain, my Lady. I take comfort in that, and so should you."

Gilraen stared at the young man in front of her for a moment. She had meant to comfort him in the death of his father, and here he was, comforting her. The wisdom in his words belied his tender years, and she suddenly saw what Arathorn had meant about there being something different, older, about this young man. She looked down as Aragorn pulled on the hem of her dress, asking to be held. Reaching down and picking up the child, she saw Eradan's eyes watching Aragorn.

Little Aragorn reached out and touched the sling on Eradan's arm. "Hurt?" he asked softly. Gilraen was always surprised at how sensitive and intuitive her small child could be.

Eradan smiled at the child. "It does not hurt too much, not anymore. I will be as good as new very soon. Do not worry about me." He reached over with his free hand and ruffled Aragorn's hair. A strange smile crossed his face before he stood up and bowed to Gilraen. "I do thank you for your kind words, my Lady. I will not take any more of your time today." Before Gilraen could say a word to call him back, he had rounded a corner of the garden and was out of sight.

"What an unusual young man," she said softly to Aragorn as the child climbed down out of her lap and pulled on her dress, indicating that he wanted to move on, to go explore somewhere else. She laughed and stood up, following her ever-inquisitive child to the next place that caught his attention.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In several more instances, Aragorn came across Arathorn out with Gilraen and young Aragorn. Though he tried to refrain from intruding, Arathorn and Gilraen would insist that he come sit and speak with them. In doing so, Aragorn often felt on his guard, as if he had to watch what he said. When Arathorn asked him personal questions, Aragorn relied heavily on the memories of Eradan that he had access to. He was determined not to be caught in a lie. However, the more time he spent around his family, the more comfortable they all began to feel with each other. Aragorn could not help laughing at the antics of his younger self, and he began to see what his brothers meant when they commented that no one could have met Aragorn at age two and failed to fall in love with him.

In an attempt to keep himself from feeling split in two, Aragorn tried to immerse himself completely in Eradan's personality and life. Though he knew that Arathorn and Gilraen were his parents and the small child playing in the grass was himself, Aragorn began to force himself to see Arathorn as his Chieftain and not his father. Having had experience at taking on the roles and names of others, Aragorn forced himself to become Eradan. Not only would it make him less likely to be caught out, it made his life much easier if he stopped expecting to wake up back in his normal life every night when he went to sleep. The disappointment of waking up in Eradan's body every morning would crush him if he did nothing about it. As he became more comfortable as Eradan, he began to relax around the others and did not have to be on guard every moment of the day. He noticed the others beginning to relax around him as well. Their scrutiny faded as they seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary about him.

The day after his stitches were removed and he was released from the healers, Eradan grabbed his weapons and headed down to the practice field. It had been too long since he had held a weapon, and he had to start working with his healing muscles, to get them accustomed to fighting once again. Also, he had only fought once in this body and he was not completely sure what its strengths and limitations were.

Finding a quiet corner on the archery range, Eradan strung his bow and nocked an arrow, aiming at the target down the range. He felt his left arm begin to shake and forced the slight movement to still before he took in a breath, released it as he had been taught, and then released the arrow. He groaned as it flew down the range, far to the right of the target. Shaking his head in disgust, he took another arrow from his quiver, nocked it, and once again took aim. His weakened arm protested again as a twinge of pain radiated from his shoulder. The shaking was worse this time, and he ended up releasing the arrow before he had a firm aim on his target. This time, the arrow did not even reach the target, hitting the ground several feet in front of the target. Eradan grumbled softly to himself. He had not missed his target so badly since he was a child just learning to shoot a bow.

"You are not ready to try archery yet," a voice sounded from behind him. "Your injuries are not nearly healed enough to allow it."

Eradan turned to see Elladan and Elrohir behind him. He hung his head in embarrassment at the thought that they had seen his poor performance. "The healers released me yesterday," he said as he looked back to them.

"The healers may have released you, but that does not mean you are ready to once more pick up a weapon. If you strain the muscles before they are fully healed, you will set your recovery back and perhaps lead to further injury." Elrohir approached him and gently took the bow from his hands. "I saw how your arm trembled, Eradan. That tells me that you are attempting this far too soon."

Eradan took a deep breath and nodded. "I fear you may be right." He reached up and rubbed his shoulder gently. There was still a faint twinge of pain coming from his shoulder. "I will hold off on the archery for a few more days. But I must be ready for battle by the time we head out again. I will not be a burden or risk endangering the rest of the patrol. My injuries were not that serious. I need to start training again."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, then back to Eradan. "You are right handed, are you not?" Elladan asked.

"Yes," Eradan replied.

"Since it was your left shoulder which was injured, do you think you would be able to start practicing with your sword?" It was Elrohir who asked this question.

"I should be able to do this," Eradan answered. "Would one of you care to work with me?"

Elladan looked to Elrohir and nodded at him to indicate that Elrohir should work with Eradan while Elladan watched. This would help give them an idea of how skilled he was in sword work, and how slowly they needed to take things as he was still recovering.

"I will," Elrohir answered, crossing over to lay Eradan's bow down as he picked up the sword Eradan had brought with him. Handing the sword back to Eradan, he picked up his own sword and took a position further out in the field as Elladan backed up to find a good vantage point. Eradan took his sword in his hand and took up a ready position across from Elrohir.

When he saw they were both ready, Elladan gave them the cue to start. He watched as the combatants slowly circled each other, exchanging a short series of thrusts and parries to get a feel for each other. Shortly after starting, the sparring began in earnest. Elladan watched intently as Elrohir gave the young man a good workout, using moves that would be fairly easily deflected, yet still give them a good idea of how skilled he was. After half an hour of easy sparring, Eradan was panting slightly and sweat soaked the hair around his forehead and temples. Elladan called a halt to the fighting and walked over to see Eradan lean over slightly and hold a hand to his side, where he had been injured.

"Have you re-injured your side?" Elladan asked in concern as he reached the young man.

"Not really," Eradan replied with a grimace. "But I think that may have been more of a workout than I was quite ready for. I could feel the muscles pulling with my movements."

"Then why did you not call a halt to the practice?" Elrohir asked in frustration. He hated to think that he might have hurt the young man that he was growing rather fond of.

"Because I needed the practice," Eradan answered as he walked over to where he had left his supplies and reached down for the waterskin he had brought with him. After taking a long drink of water, he poured some of the water over his head to help cool him off. "I do not know how long it will be till we leave, but I must be able to last much longer in battle than I did here, or I will not survive."

The twins looked to each other. They could well understand the young man's drive to heal and regain his fighting ability before he headed back out on patrol. However, if he drove himself too far, too fast, he would end up doing himself more harm than good.

Elladan crouched down next to where Eradan had sat on the ground. "Eradan, we will help you regain your ability to fight, but you must tell us when you are in pain. You cannot rush your recovery without causing more harm."

Eradan hung his head. The twins were right, he knew that. If a patient of his had been doing something like this, he would have sat the person down and had a talk with them, just like the twins were doing now. As a healer, he knew that pushing his body at this point was not wise.

"Very well," Eradan said, looking back up at Elladan. "You are correct in this matter. I will trust to your judgment as healers as well as warriors. If you will agree to work with me and help me to regain what I have lost and perhaps improve my skills, I will promise to let you know when I am in pain. I do not wish to cause further injury to myself."

"Good," Elrohir said from where he stood nearby. "That is enough practice for today, I think. We will meet back here tomorrow morning and continue your training. In the meantime, I would suggest you stop by the healing ward. They have a cream that will help ease your sore muscles, and perhaps help to ease the pain of your healing injuries as well."

"Thank you, both," Eradan said as Elladan stood, then extended a hand to help him to his feet.

"You are quite welcome," Elrohir answered.

Eradan nodded his head in their direction as he gathered up his things and headed back up to the house. The twins remained behind to get in their own practice. The next morning began their daily routine of practice and training with Eradan. As his injuries healed, he was able to fight for longer periods of time, and it was not long before he was able to start practicing with his bow as well. In all his practices, though, Eradan was always careful to show no more skill than would be expected of someone his age. The others took great joy in seeing how quickly he picked up each new move, however, and spent as much time training him as they could fit into their schedules. Arathorn had even begun accompanying them, and seemed to enjoy working with the twins and Eradan.

In the time he spent with Aragorn and Gilraen, he began to be as a big brother to the child. He would play with Aragorn and pretend to have long conversations with the talkative child, even when he could understand no more than two words out of ten. Aragorn soon began calling him Erda, as he could not quite pronounce his full name. In this idyllic few weeks while the more seriously wounded Rangers were recovering, Eradan was gradually accepted as one of the family. Arathorn seemed to see Eradan as something like a foster son, or a ward under his protection. In moments when Aragorn allowed his true self to surface, he found that thought to be quite ironic. But those moments became fewer and fewer as Eradan suppressed Aragorn's thoughts and memories in order to live the life he now faced.

When at last the day came for the Rangers to ride out once more, Eradan hated to say goodbye to Gilraen and the young child he thought of as a brother. Knowing as he did, that young Aragorn would have a good and safe childhood here, though, he was more at peace with the thought of leaving them behind. As the patrol left Imladris behind, Eradan rode at Arathorn's side, with the twins nearby.

Chapter Five

Elladan looked sideways at Elrohir as they neared Lothlorien. "Tell me again why we decided to journey with Nana? We're going to have to face Daernana, and you know that we can't hide 500 years of experience from Galadriel."

Elrohir chuckled. "If I remember correctly, it was your idea to make this journey. You should have thought of that earlier. Besides, we do have the ability to keep parts of our minds secret. I don't think she'd push us to reveal everything we wish to hide."

"She cannot help but notice how we have changed," Elladan pointed out. "Do you not think that she will ask?"

Elrohir shrugged slightly. "Perhaps we can tell her part of the story and ask her not to pry into the rest, much as we did with Glorfindel."

"We may have to do something like that," Elladan agreed. "But only if she asks."

"Agreed," Elrohir said, nodding his agreement.

Celebrían glanced back at her sons from her position on the trail ahead of them. "What are you two whispering about back there?"

"Nothing, Nana," they answered simultaneously, giving her identical innocent looks.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at them. "Please tell me you are not concocting some new prank to pull on Haldir."

"Of course we are not doing anything of the sort," Elrohir said with a mock hurt tone in his voice.

"How could you think such a thing of us?" Elladan asked with the most innocent expression he had ever worn on his face.

Celebrían turned back around to face the front of the trail, shaking her head and muttering something about 'all inhabitants of Lothlorien beware'. The twins just turned and gave each other matching grins that would have made all who knew them shudder in worried anticipation.

----------------------------------------------------

Glorfindel groaned inwardly as he saw the grins on the faces of the twins. That did not bode well for anyone. Though he had not originally intended to journey with Celebrían to Lothlorien, he had decided that it would be best if he were with the twins for a while more. They would be facing Galadriel on this trip, and he knew that she would notice a change in her grandsons. He would be surprised, actually, if she did not already know that something odd had happened. Her sight was far-reaching, and may have already told her about the twins. Feeling that Galadriel might react better to the news if he were along and could testify to what the twins had told him and that he trusted them, he had made the decision to join the patrol traveling to Lothlorien. That and the fact that he, like the twins, had been shaken by the near miss and wanted to make sure that Celebrían reached Lothlorien safely.

During the journey, though, he had begun to regret his decision. The twins had been annoying everyone on this trip. Their mood was…giddy. That was the only word that came to mind for Glorfindel. He knew, as the others did not, that it came from a great feeling of relief that they had succeeded in saving their mother from such a dreadful fate, but it was beginning to wear on all those around them. Though they had remained alert and almost hyper-aware of their surroundings in an effort to keep their mother safe, they had teased each other and the other members of the patrol relentlessly. Glorfindel would be quite glad when they reached their destination and he could get away from the twins for a bit.

"Halt!" a commanding voice sounded from above their heads. "None may pass without the consent of the Lord and Lady of the Realm."

"Haldir!" Celebrían exclaimed in joy as she recognized the voice. "Will you not come down and greet us?"

Haldir dropped from the trees to land easily in front of their horses. "Lady Celebrían, you are quite welcome. It is good to see you again." He voice cooled considerably as he glanced over at the twins. "You did not say that you were bringing your sons this trip."

Elladan grinned at Haldir's tone of voice. "You are not still mad, are you Haldir? It has been…" a thoughtful look crossed his face as he tried to remember how long it would have been since their last visit. "…long since our last visit," he finished smoothly.

"Perhaps," Haldir said cooly. "A century may seem long to you, but for me, it is far too soon."

"Was that the reason for your so warm welcome? We know very well that you were aware of our approach long before now." Elrohir grinned over at the elf who was more like a favorite uncle of theirs, and that being the case, a frequent victim of their pranks as well.

"I had hopes that you would leave your mother here in our care and return to go torment your father and those of his household," Haldir retorted.

Elladan rolled his eyes. "Come now, Haldir. We have sworn to never again touch one of your weapons. Is that not enough? Are we truly no longer welcome in the home of our own family?"

Haldir paused a moment as if in thought, before a slow smile broke out on his face. "I suppose your grandparents would not be happy if I turned you away at this point. As long as you do not cause chaos on this visit, you are both welcome here."

"Thank you," Elrohir said dryly, returning Haldir's smile.

"You do know that if you did not give the twins the reactions they hope for, they may be less likely to torment you," Glorfindel said, drawing the March warden's gaze.

"Lord Glorfindel!" Haldir dropped his gaze as he gave a respectful bow to the Elf-lord from Gondolin. "We are honored by your presence, but we were not expecting you to journey with Lady Celebrían." His gaze darted thoughtfully from the twins, to Glorfindel, to the larger than normal patrol. "Has something happened?"

"Do not worry," Glorfindel soothed his concerns. "We are all well, but there were circumstances that led to our presence on this journey. I would prefer to report directly to the Lord and Lady of the Wood, however."

"Of course, Lord Glorfindel," Haldir said, bowing once more. He stepped up to walk beside Celebrían, who had dismounted from her horse so that she could greet Haldir with a hug, as they had been friends ever since they were elflings in Lindon. Haldir spoke quickly to the rest of the members of his patrol, then turned back to the Imladris party and began to lead them through the woods of Lothlorien.

Glorfindel watched the twins with some amusement as they seemed to be growing more and more nervous the closer they came to the heart of Lothlorien. He knew they were worried about facing their grandparents with the knowledge they now held. Galadriel could not help but know that the twins were quite different than the last time she had seen them, and he knew the twins must be thinking furiously about what, exactly, to tell her.

It was not long before they reached the clearing where Galadriel and Celeborn were waiting to greet their daughter and her patrol. The entire party dismounted and waited as Galadriel and Celeborn welcomed them to the Golden Wood and indicated where they could take their rest. Elves of the realm came to take their horses and lead them to where they would be staying for their visit. Once the rest of the patrol was taken care of, Galadriel and Celeborn hugged their daughter and grandsons.

"I am so happy to see you, my daughter. Your journey went well, I trust?" Galadriel looked at Celebrían with her knowing gaze.

Celebrían lowered her eyes for a brief moment before raising them again to meet her mother's gaze. "My journey was fine, but it nearly ended in disaster. We have much to tell you, Naneth."

Galadriel looked at Celebrían, the twins and Glorfindel, then nodded and gestured for them to follow her. "Come, we will go somewhere more private to talk." Galadriel and Celeborn led the way to a private sitting room. Once they were all seated, Galadriel gazed back and forth among the elves sitting in front of her. "Who would like to start?" she asked.

Celebrían decided to spare her sons the anxiety and began reporting the recent events. "Before I left to come here, Elrohir had a vision."

"A vision?" Galadriel asked, looking aside at her grandson. A flash of trepidation emanated from Elrohir before he quashed the emotion and stared back blandly at her.

"Yes," Celebrían continued to tell her parents everything that had happened.

Throughout the tale, Galadriel kept getting flashes of strong emotions from the twins before they were able to suppress them and block her. The emotions that she read from them worried her, as they were feelings of anger, guilt, and pain such as she had never felt from them before. When Celebrían finished the tale of the orc ambush, the burial of the elves who were killed and then their uneventful journey here, Galadriel reached forward and held her daughter's hand. "I will be forever grateful for Elrohir's vision, Celebrían. I cannot bear the thought of you in the hands of orcs." She glanced back at Elrohir and Elladan. She reached toward them and tried to gently probe their minds, but they were blocking her as strongly as they could. Though she could force the issue, she would never do such a thing to her grandsons. She could, however, speak privately with the twins and try to get them to tell her whatever it was that they were hiding.

Galadriel looked at her husband and mentally asked him to take Celebrían for a walk. A smile crossed his face as he replied back to her that he would be glad to spend some time with his daughter, but he would wish to know whatever she found out later. She smiled back and reassured him that she would inform him of whatever she found out from their grandsons.

Celeborn stood and reached out a hand to his daughter. "I, too, am eminently thankful that you are well and that you were able to arrive here safely. Would you like to take a walk with me?"

Celebrían looked back and forth between her parents, feeling that they had had one of their silent conversations and decided to have her leave the room. That had always irritated her when she was younger, that her parents could have entire conversations without speaking a word aloud. It was especially irritating when she knew they had been talking about her, just like the feeling she was now getting from them. She raised an eyebrow as she gazed back at her mother. "Was this your idea?"

"Can I not simply wish to speak with my daughter?" Celeborn asked her with a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. "Come, Celebrían. It has been long since we had the chance to simply talk with each other. And, from what you have said, we almost did not get this chance. I would like to spend some time with you. Will you allow me that?"

Celebrían still felt she was being manipulated, but could not deny that she also wished to spend time with her father. "I will allow that," she said with a smile as she stood and took his hand. She turned back to her mother before they left. "I would like my sons returned to me in one piece, Naneth."

Galadriel laughed as she looked back at her daughter. Celebrían knew all too well what she was doing, though not the reasons behind it. "I will be gentle with them, I promise."

Celebrían gave her mother a cheeky grin before leaving the room with her arm draped through her father's.

Galadriel turned back to look at her grandsons, who seemed extremely nervous. She gazed at Glorfindel for a moment. "Would you excuse us, Glorfindel? I would like to speak with my grandsons in private for a moment."

Glorfindel saw the pleading looks the twins shot him and looked back to Galadriel. "I believe I should stay for this."

She was taken by surprise, and glanced over at the twins. They nodded, and she tilted her head to Glorfindel. "Very well." Looking back over to her grandsons, she began questioning them. "Now, perhaps you can tell me why I have been sensing such odd emotions from you and why you have been expending so much effort to block me? There is something in the both of you that I do not recognize. Please tell me why I feel I no longer know my own grandsons."

Elladan looked over at Elrohir and raised an eyebrow. Elrohir nodded. Elladan looked back to Galadriel, then closed his eyes and dropped the barriers he had erected around his mind. Looking up, he met her eyes and invited her to look into his mind. "We were blocking you because we were afraid you would see this."

Galadriel gasped as she looked into the mind of her grandson. He had certain things that he intended to show her, and she watched the images play through his mind. They were horrible images, of Celebrían's patrol being waylaid by orcs, of he and Elrohir leading out a second patrol and finding Celebrían in a cave surrounded by orcs. She watched in horror as she saw Elrond trying desperately to heal Celebrían, and the despair in her daughter's eyes as she sailed from these shores. The years and centuries that followed went by in a blur as she lived them through Elladan's eyes; endless battles of fighting orcs wherever they could be found, glorying in the blood and the kill. Arwen leaving Imladris and Elrond losing himself in his grief for a time, not being able to stop the twins from their destructive behavior; they all flashed before her eyes. The rush of images came to an abrupt halt as Elladan reached the end of what he wanted to show her and he brought his barriers back up.

Galadriel swayed in her seat as the onslaught of images ceased. Glorfindel reached out to touch her shoulder in support. "Are you well?"

Galadriel just stared at Glorfindel in shock for a moment as she struggled to regain her equilibrium. "Well?" she repeated his question, looking back at the twins. "After the images I just saw?" She ran a hand over her face then looked back up to her grandsons. "What did you just show me? What time are you from and why are you here?"

Glorfindel sat back in his seat and waited for the twins to speak.

"We do not truly know why we were sent back," Elladan started the explanation. "The only thing we do know is that we were given a chance to save Naneth, and that is what we have done." He and Elrohir took turns telling Galadriel about the darkness and the bodiless voice, and only briefly about what happened after Celebrían sailed. They told her nothing of Estel, or other important future events.

When they finished their recitation, Galadriel was silent for a time. She stood from her chair and walked over to a window, staring out over the forest. When she showed no signs of speaking after several moments, the twins began shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. Glorfindel was about to speak and ask her what she was thinking when her voice drifted across the room.

"I have seen many things in my life," she said softly. "I have seen the rise and fall of evil and darkness, more than once. I have seen the deaths of many of my kin and friends. I have even seen the return of one after death." At that, she turned and looked briefly at Glorfindel before turning her gaze back to her grandsons. "But never have I seen the Valar send anyone back to the past for any reason, great or small. And I cannot help but think that if one were to be sent back to put right a wrong, it would be on a greater scale than saving the life of one elleth." She shook her head as she stared at the twins. "I mistrust this."

Elladan kept his face impassive, but Elrohir was unable to hide his emotions so effectively. His face fell as he looked back at his grandmother.

Galadriel hardened her heart as she felt the waves of dismay coming from Elrohir. She forced herself to say what she felt she must. "I do not believe that whomever sent you here had the best interests of Middle-earth in mind."

"What do you mean?" Elladan asked her. He thought he knew what Galadriel might say, since he had also been wondering about the motives of the being that had sent them into the past.

"I do not wish to know any details of your time, as I believe it may be dangerous for any of us who have not yet lived it to know what comes to pass. But, may I assume that there are events in your past that should not be tampered with, should not be altered?" Galadriel's gaze was knowing as she gazed at the twins.

Elladan nodded as he thought of the destruction of the Ring, the defeat of Sauron, and Aragorn taking his rightful place as king of Gondor and Arnor. There definitely were certain events that should not be altered in any way.

"Then I cannot see the reason for sending you back here," Galadriel said. "You cannot change one thing without affecting others, many of which none of us can foresee. I fear that you were sent here to disrupt the timeline, to irrevocably change events for the worse."

"You cannot truly think that we would act as agents of darkness!" Elrohir burst out incredulously, rising to his feet, followed swiftly by Elladan. "Do you not trust us?" His voice turned plaintive as he asked the last question. Having his own grandmother distrust him was more than he could bear to think about.

Galadriel's expression softened. "Elrohir, of course I do not believe that you would knowingly do anything to harm Middle-earth, or those around you. I think that you and your brother would attempt to make things better, to protect or prevent harm to those you love. But in changing those events, you change so many more that can have unexpected consequences. You have already changed one thing that we know of. None of us, even those gifted with foresight, can know what repercussions that act will have."

"Would you have had us simply stand aside and allow Naneth to be taken by orcs?" Elladan's voice was hard and cold as he stared at Galadriel.

A pained expression crossed Galadriel's face, and she looked down for a moment before once again meeting his eyes. It worried her to see the cold look in those eyes. "No, Elladan. I know very well that neither of you could willingly allow harm to come to your mother. Had I known about it, I would have been able to do no differently. But the fact that neither Elrond nor I foresaw this event tells me that perhaps we were not supposed to prevent it."

Elladan flinched and looked away, while Elrohir just stared at her aghast.

"I cannot regret saving Naneth, no matter what may happen because of it," Elladan's voice was soft as he spoke. "It would have destroyed us completely to live through that twice. You cannot truly know what it was like for us, Daernana. Not unless you had lived it."

Galadriel sighed at the broken note in Elladan's voice. The brief glimpse she had seen of their past in Elladan's mind would haunt her for a long time to come. But that glimpse was nothing compared to what her grandsons had lived through. Even speaking of those events had brought them enormous amounts of pain. She could see their anguish clearly in the tense lines of their bodies, and feel it radiating off of them, filling the room. Wanting to ease that pain, she stepped forward and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, turning them to face her.

Seeing the compassionate look on her face, Elrohir stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her, burying his face in her shoulder. Elladan held out only a moment longer, until Galadriel held her other arm open, inviting him into her embrace as well. Holding them both close, Galadriel closed her eyes and tried to send them both soothing thoughts, attempting to calm the raging sea of their emotions. "Oh, my little ones, you have been through so much pain. If it were in my power, I would take this burden from you." She knew that the twins had been scarred by their experiences. Even being back in this time and saving their mother would never take the memories of those horrible events from them. Though the rest of their family would never know of those events, her grandsons would still carry the scars the rest of their days.

It was several more moments before Galadriel felt the twins begin to calm, and they stepped back, out of her embrace. Galadriel looked over to Glorfindel as the twins returned to their earlier seats.

"How did you come to know of this?" she asked him, crossing back to her chair and gracefully sitting once more. She was sure that the twins would not lightly tell anyone that they had traveled back in time.

Glorfindel glanced over at the twins with a slight smile on his face. "I overheard them speaking the first morning they…arrived here. They came into the library where I was reading and did not see me, as my chair faced away from the door. It was hard not to listen, as they were speaking quite freely. What I heard intrigued me."

"Intrigued you?" Elladan asked incredulously. "I don't know if that is the word I would use. You may remember that you were suspicious enough of us to hold a sword to Elrohir's throat!"

Glorfindel looked over at Elladan with an impassive expression. "I would not have hurt him. While it is true that I did not truly know whether I could trust you, you are still the sons of Elrond. If I harmed you, I would have to face your father's wrath. I would almost rather face another balrog than that."

The dubious looks on the faces of both twins made it readily apparent that they had thought Glorfindel quite capable of carrying through with his implied threat. A wry smile crossed Glorfindel's face. "If you will remember, I was not the only one making threats that I would not have carried out."

Galadriel stared at her grandson as Elladan flushed slightly. "You threatened Glorfindel?" Her tone was one of shock and no small amount of amusement. She well knew how much the twins had always idolized Glorfindel. Though they did occasionally play pranks on Glorfindel, they were usually of the milder variety.

"I would not have allowed anyone or anything to stop me from saving Nana," Elladan explained defensively. "We would not truly have hurt him, but if he had tried to stop us, he might have seen a demonstration of a few moves we have picked up in the last few centuries."

The resolute tone of his voice convinced Galadriel that he was absolutely serious. They would have even fought Glorfindel to save their mother. That brought her thoughts back to the main topic at hand. "While I cannot condone changing the past to suit yourself, as Celebrían's mother, I am very relieved that you acted as you did. That said, you cannot simply go around blithely changing history. I would assume that others you care about have died in the intervening centuries?"

As the twins nodded soberly, Galadriel gazed very seriously at them. "You do not know all the consequences of your actions when you meddle with time. I would strongly advise you not to try changing anything more. We cannot know all the effects of the changes you have already made. If you knowingly change things in an attempt to make things better or protect those you love, the shape of the future may change beyond all recognition. Whether the changes are for good or evil, we will not know until the end. I obviously cannot force you to stand aside and let history unfold as it will. If you choose to change history, it is likely that none will know, as we do not know what has happened in your time, and will not know what has changed. I can only warn you as strongly as I may that dabbling in the flow of time may lead to consequences that you do not intend. As much as you may want to change things, it would be much better if you let things happen on their own from now on. I would also advise that you tell no one beyond those who already know." At that, she looked at the twins and Glorfindel. "Glorfindel is the only one who knows the truth, is he not?" The twins nodded, and Galadriel nodded in response. "Good, please see that it stays that way. The more who know this secret, the more chance there is that history will be drastically altered."

"Do you intend to tell Celeborn?" Glorfindel asked curiously. He knew that the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood kept no secrets from each other.

"I will have to tell him something," Galadriel admitted. "I cannot hide things from him anymore than the twins could hide this from me. However, he has ever been extremely protective of Celebrían. It would not do him any good to know what could have happened to her. I will tell him that the gift of foresight has been awakened in you both, and that your knowledge of the possibilities of the future is quite extensive. He will know that I am not telling him everything, of course, but I will tell him that I am only hiding the content of your visions. He knows how difficult it can be to cope with visions and decide whether anything should be done about what has appeared in those visions. Celeborn will not ask for further details."

Elrohir shook his head slightly. He did not want Galadriel to lie to Celeborn for them. Before he could open his mouth to say that, though, Galadriel spoke again, cutting him off, knowing what he was about to say.

"Elladan, Elrohir, it is best if no others find out about this, not even Celeborn. As difficult as it will be for you, you must appear to be the same ellyn that you were before any of this happened, before your mother was taken. I know that what I ask will not be easy, but it must be done. I will ask that you not speak of any future events where you can be overheard. It would be best if you do not speak of them at all, but there may be some things that you need to discuss with each other. When you do speak of any of this, be absolutely sure you are alone and no others are nearby. You cannot take the chance of being overheard again. Even when you speak to Glorfindel and I, please do not tell us too much about the future. We cannot take the risk of even us finding out too much. Please promise me that you will be careful in this matter."

"Of course we will," Elladan said, as Elrohir said at the same time, "We promise."

"Good." Galadriel sat back in her chair and stared at her grandsons. Though she knew that they would not make such a promise lightly, she could not help but wonder if the damage was already done. It pained her greatly to even think that, maybe, for the sake of history, Celebrían should have been allowed to be captured. She was shaken out of her dark thoughts as Elladan spoke again, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

"If you want us to behave as normal, are you giving us permission to tease Haldir? It has been over a century since we played a prank on him, after all. I think he is long overdue for another."

Galadriel's eyes narrowed as she stared at Elladan. A smirk was fixed firmly to his face, and an answering one was spreading across Elrohir's. "I thought we had settled this on your last visit here. Do I need to remind you of the lecture you received last time?"

"No," Elrohir said quickly. "We have not forgotten that. But we only swore to never again touch Haldir's weapons. There are a good many pranks that have nothing to do with weapons."

Galadriel could not help a long-suffering sigh at the mischievous looks on the faces of both of her grandsons. At least that had not changed, she thought to herself. It gave her hope that the twins had healed in the intervening centuries, and that their anger and despair did not hold sway over their lives. Though she and their parents often complained about their mischievous natures, she would not truly have them any other way.

A/N: Since I'm absolutely horrible at coming up with pranks, if anyone has any great pranks that the twins could play on Haldir that they would be willing to share, please e-mail your suggestions to me at mistycracraft@yahoo.com and they may be included in a later chapter.

Beta: Radbooks (Sorry for forgetting this earlier. Without her, the ending of this chapter might have been a bit too abrupt. She's been a great help with this story.)

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

A/N: There is a slight deviation from canon in this story. Rather than having Arathorn slain when he was 'riding against the orcs with the sons of Elrond', I have assumed that Aragorn and Gilraen were with him and they were heading to Imladris to live for a time. In the Silmarillion it says 'In that house [the house of Elrond] were harboured the Heirs of Isildur, in childhood and old age, because of the kinship of their blood with Elrond himself…'. The quote continues, but this made me think that Aragorn would have been taken to Imladris for his own protection at some point, so why not when he was two? The twins are still there, acting as escort, but they were not out specifically to hunt orcs. I know that is not Tolkien's version, but I need things to happen a bit differently for this story to work. Therefore, this story can be considered slightly AU. I am also using a history created for Elladan and Elrohir by Cassia and Sio. I do have their permission to use Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen, which were their creations.

Please read and review. If you have any ideas for changes to the history of Middle-earth that you would like to suggest as the story progresses, please feel free to e-mail me at mistycracraft@yahoo.com and let me know what they are. If they fit well with other plot elements I have planned, I may use them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Six

The first few days out of Imladris were relatively quiet. Aragorn spent most of his time getting to know the names and histories of the other Rangers in the patrol. He had met a few of them in Imladris, but had spent most of his time with Arathorn and his family, or on the practice field with the twins and Arathorn. In his guise as Eradan, he seldom spoke of himself, but drew the others out to talk of themselves and their families. Eradan already knew that at twenty, he was the youngest member of the patrol, but he had not known that the next youngest Ranger was just over twice his age at forty-three. Many, but not all of them, had families, wives and children waiting at home for them.

They were not long out of Imladris when the large group of Rangers split into smaller patrols. Several patrols had joined ranks to escort Gilraen and Aragorn to Imladris, but the Rangers were too few to allow such large patrols on a regular basis. Eradan, Elladan, Elrohir and two Rangers by the names of Baran and Tarcil were all that would journey with Arathorn. They would be heading south, toward the Misty Mountains, holding the Redhorn pass and keeping the path between the east and west sides of the mountains clear of orcs and other predators. The other patrols would be heading west and north.

Since Eradan was the youngest member of the patrol, the others took great pleasure in showing him many things about hunting, tracking, healing and fighting. He asked many questions, and they became used to answering his numerous and quite varied questions. It seemed to the others that Eradan wanted to learn everything there was to learn as quickly as he could. Eradan, for his part, simply wanted to make sure that if he showed knowledge about a certain topic, the others would not become suspicious of him. Each night after they stopped and established a camp, one of the others would spend some time sparring with Eradan, working to bring him up to the fighting level of the others. Often, after a sparring session, Eradan would sit down and speak with whomever was available about whatever topics came to their minds.

One night, after about a week of this routine, Eradan collapsed near the fire after an especially wearing sparring session with Elladan. Arathorn and Elrohir were sitting nearby, and Baran and Tarcil were out gathering firewood and collecting fresh water.

Eradan glanced sideways at Elladan as the elf sat down. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Elladan asked in confusion, staring at the young human.

"How do you manage to fight like that and show no signs of strain?" Eradan gestured to himself, and then toward Elladan to make his point.

Elladan smiled slightly as he took in the sight of the exhausted youth. Eradan's hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and he lay half-reclined on the ground, panting in an attempt to regain his breath. Elladan allowed that he had given the young man quite a workout that evening. Elladan, on the other hand, could have just gone for a casual stroll in the gardens of Imladris. The only sign that showed he had been exerting himself at all was that his hair was slightly mussed. Elladan shook his head in amusement as he answered Eradan's question.

"I have been fighting for quite a bit longer than you have, Eradan. I am thousands of years older than you, do not forget. That gives me much more experience with this than you. Also, the life of the eldar runs through my veins, and elves have more strength and stamina than do men." Elladan was not boasting, by any means, but simply stating facts.

Eradan rolled his eyes and collapsed onto his back on the ground for a moment, staring up at the stars. "It must be nice."

Elladan and Elrohir both chuckled before Elladan answered. "It does have its advantages."

Eradan was silent for a moment as he lay staring at the stars. When he sat up again, he had a curious look on his face. "Why do you do this?" He directed his question toward both of the twins.

"Do what?" It was Elrohir who answered this time. He sounded a little confused, as none of them quite knew where Eradan's questioning mind had gone this time.

"Ride with us," Eradan answered. "You're obviously not Dúnedain. I know you and your family claim a kinship with the Dúnedain through Elros Tar-Minyatur, but surely that's not enough reason to ride out as often as you do. You said you've been fighting orcs for thousands of years. Don't you get tired of it?"

The twins stared at him seriously for a moment before Elladan answered. "We have not ridden with the Dúnedain for all of our lives, only the last few centuries. Before that, we only rode with the elven patrols to protect Imladris, as do most of its inhabitants."

"What changed?" Eradan asked. Inwardly, Aragorn flinched at bringing up this painful topic, but he knew that Eradan did not know this full story, and it was something he wanted to be able to discuss with them.

The twins glanced at each other, and Elrohir looked away, leaving Elladan to answer. "Our mother was attacked as she journeyed through the Redhorn pass, traveling to Lothlorien. Her escort was waylaid and she was taken captive. We rescued her, but she was no longer able to stay in Middle-earth and sailed the following year. Ever since then, we have tried to make Middle-earth safe from such foul creatures. Riding with the Dúnedain allows us to protect the other inhabitants of our world."

Eradan stared at them for a moment. He looked at the path ahead of them, toward the Redhorn pass. He knew how hard it was for them to be near the place where Celebrían had been taken captive. "Why are you on the patrol heading back to that place? I know I would have trouble patrolling the place where my father fell."

Elladan stared at him, knowing that this young man did know how he and Elrohir had felt at losing a parent. If anyone would understand their motives, Eradan would. "We must do what we can to keep this path safe, so that no other travelers, elven or edain, fall victim as our mother did. This is our duty, the task that has fallen to us."

"Or the task that you assigned to yourselves," Eradan said softly. "I saw the pain in your father's eyes as he watched you both. He did not wish to see you leave again so soon." He held up a hand to halt Elladan's words as he opened his mouth to speak. "Please, hear me out before you speak." He paused for a moment, gathering Eradan's memories. "My mother died when I was young. She fell sick, and the healers were not able to help her. When my father died, I lost all the family I had left. You still have your father, and I simply think you should spend time with him while you can rather than ride out so often, not knowing if you will return." He shook his head, not knowing whether he should say what else he wanted, then forged ahead and hoped for the best. "This cannot be the life that your mother wished for you."

Elladan and Elrohir's faces darkened in reaction to his words.

"Do not presume…" Elladan started to say, before Elrohir held up a hand to halt his words.

Elrohir sighed and shook his head, remembering that the young man had very recently lost his father, and must be feeling quite lost and alone, even in their presence. "Is this the life your mother wished for you?" His voice was soft and understanding.

Eradan gave him a wry half smile, acknowledging the point. "No, I do not believe that my mother wished for me to travel out to battle orcs, but she knew that my future was not likely to hold much else. The Dúnedain are so few that we cannot spare able-bodied men from the patrols. My mother feared for my father's life every time he rode out, and I know she wanted a different life for me."

"If you did not have to ride with the patrols, what would you like to be doing?" Arathorn asked. He had been relatively silent during the conversation, but he truly wished to know what Eradan wanted from life. He may not be able to accommodate him, but he did want to know what might make him happy.

Eradan looked to Arathorn with a startled look on his face. "Oh, forgive me, hîr nin, I did not mean to sound as if I do not appreciate the chance to ride with your patrol. It is truly an honor, and I could ask for nothing more."

Arathorn waved his apology away. "Peace, Eradan. I know you meant no offense, but my question was an honest one. What would you like to be doing, were there no orcs and no reason to have to ride out on patrol so often?"

Eradan hesitated before slowly answering. "I think I should like to stay in Imladris for a time and study."

"Study what?" Elladan asked. He had forgiven Eradan's earlier comments, and now saw that Eradan craved the life that he and Elrohir could have if they so chose.

"Everything," Eradan answered earnestly. "The history of these lands, the tactics of war, how to resolve conflicts between parties of differing opinion, healing, languages, even art and writing. I want to know all there is to know about the different races that roam this world. There is so much to learn, and so little time."

"Little time?" Arathorn asked in confusion. "I have enjoyed answering your questions, Eradan, and you have spurred some very interesting conversations and debates, but why are you in such a hurry to learn all that you can? You still have a lifetime ahead of you."

Eradan paused for a long time and thought about the best way to approach this. Finally, coming across a believable story, he hesitantly began to explain. "My rush is due largely to a vision I had not so long ago. It was brief, and I do not know the full circumstances, but the image I saw was quite clear." He looked to Arathorn. "I had a vision of your son. I saw Aragorn, grown and a leader of men. He will be a great man, my lord, and his people will love him. In this vision, I saw myself standing at his side as a friend and advisor. But, my lord, I do not know enough to be an advisor to a leader of men. I must learn all I can so that I can advise him well." Eradan's expression was earnest, and his urgency quite clear in his voice.

Arathorn and the twins stared at Eradan in amazement for a time. Arathorn did not quite know what to think of this. The thought that Eradan had seen his son full grown brought a pang of envy to his heart. This was a vision he would have wished to see. He quelled a momentary urge to ask the young man for every detail of his vision. Arathorn wanted to know what kind of man his son would become. Knowing that those with the gift of foreknowledge were not always free to share what they had seen, however, he held his tongue. But the words Eradan spoke brought hope to his heart. Aragorn would grow to be a great leader, beloved by his people: that thought alone was enough to keep him fighting long and hard to make the world a safer place for his son. When he realized Eradan's motive for wanting to learn as quickly as he could, however, he could not help but burst into laughter.

"Eradan, Aragorn is only two years of age. You have a great deal of time to learn as much as you can before he is grown. You already have a great deal more knowledge than he does." Arathorn's smile brought an answering smile to Eradan's face.

"Be that as it may," Eradan said, nodding his head toward Arathorn to acknowledge the point, "I was not trained to be an advisor in matters such as your son will face. While I have had the training that all Dúnedain receive, there is still much for me to learn."

Arathorn granted Eradan that point. "I am sure that Elladan and Elrohir will agree to answer any questions you may have, as will I. We will do everything we can while on patrol to teach you all you wish to know. And, as you are now my responsibility, when I travel to Imladris to rest or visit Gilraen and Aragorn, you will accompany me, and you can avail yourself of the great libraries of Imladris."

A smile broke out across Eradan's face. "Thank you, hîr nin."

"Think nothing of it," Arathorn said, with an answering smile. "After all, I also want you advising my son well when the time comes. We will see that you learn all that you can."

With a serious look now on his face, Eradan bowed his head toward Arathorn. "Thank you again. I will strive to do the best I can. I do not want to disappoint you or him."

"I am sure you will do very well," Arathorn responded. "Though I have not known you long, I know your heart is pure, and you have shown what you are willing to do to protect your liege. I would be honored if you would ride with my son when he is full-grown. I feel that he would be quite safe in your company."

A quick smile spread across Eradan's face, then faded back to seriousness as he looked steadily at Arathorn. "How did Aragorn handle the attack? I hesitated to ask before, but I know that if I had been his age, witnessing that battle would have given me nightmares. As it was, I woke up from more than one bad dream of orcs attacking me."

Arathorn frowned, and for a moment, Eradan wondered if he had somehow overstepped his bounds. "He did have many nightmares," Arathorn responded slowly. "There were many nights he woke up crying and we brought him to our bed to comfort him. I hate the thought that those creatures will haunt his sleep for some time to come, but I fear they will."

Eradan frowned slightly. That was one thing that had changed already. In the version of history he knew, he had gone to Elladan and Elrohir for comfort. Glancing sidelong at the twins, he knew that little Aragorn had not gone to them this time. Their faces were full of sympathy, but not the tenderness that Aragorn had seen on their faces when they told him this tale so many years in the future. Knowing that in his past, the twins had remained in Imladris for a much longer period of time when he came to live with them, Aragorn had to wonder what else would change because of this. Would the twins even grow to think of Aragorn as a brother? Eradan reached up to rub the pain that had started back behind his eyes. Thinking about all of the possible changes that could occur to history was beginning to give him a headache.

"Are you well?" Arathorn asked, gazing at him in concern.

Eradan dropped his hand from his head and looked back up at Arathorn. "Yes, my lord, I am well. I was only thinking of Aragorn. If he is still so troubled, perhaps some of us should have remained behind for a time, to comfort him." Eradan glanced back and forth between Arathorn and the twins.

Elrohir started laughing softly. "Are you still trying to convince us to return home to spend time with our father, Eradan? Or are you trying to ask permission to return and avail yourself of our libraries?"

Elladan laughed as well. "Eradan, Aragorn has his mother, our father, and many other elves of Imladris to comfort and distract him from his fears. Children are more resilient than you may think. I do not feel that Aragorn's dreams will continue to plague him for much longer. The peace and safety of Imladris will help to ease his fears. Besides, if your idea was for Elrohir and I to return, I truly do not know what you expected us to do for him." He glanced over at Arathorn as he continued. "While we do enjoy having the heirs of Isildur growing up and learning in Imladris, we do not know how to handle such small children. El and I do better with children that are slightly older. We will have a great deal of time to spend with both our father and Aragorn in the future."

Arathorn faced Eradan fully before speaking his turn. "I appreciate your concern for my sons well being, Eradan, but Elladan is correct. Aragorn has his mother and many others to comfort him. While I would have loved to stay with them for a much longer period of time, that was simply not possible. Without our presence here, orcs would be free to attack any travelers journeying through the mountains. This is our place, protecting our people and all the free peoples of Middle-earth."

"Of course, hîr nin," Eradan said, bowing his head and looking down at the ground. "Forgive me, I did not mean to question your decisions."

"Questioning is not a bad thing, Eradan. It is how you will learn. If you wish to be a good advisor, you will learn when it is helpful to question your lord's decisions, and when it is not. In the meantime, feel free to ask what you will. But be prepared to accept the answers you are given."

Feeling slightly chastised, Eradan nodded. Silence fell for a moment before the twins started speaking quietly with Arathorn. Eradan tuned them out and stared at the flickering of the flames before him as he thought deeply. It seemed that his choice to save Arathorn had altered things such that Elladan and Elrohir were not likely to take Aragorn as a brother. But, maybe he was trying to rush things and insist that they happen as they did before. There was still much time for the twins to learn to love little Aragorn. If they spent any time around him at all, they were sure to warm up to him. Now, he just needed to figure out how to get the twins to return to Imladris. His first attempt had failed quite badly.

Shortly after the conversation had moved on, Baran and Tarcil returned with the firewood and fresh water. As it was Eradan's turn to cook the meal, he quickly moved to begin the preparations for the meal. The others had been pleasantly surprised to find that Eradan actually knew how to cook quite well. He explained that he had learned after his mother died, as he and his father had then split all the chores. After the meal was finished, they set the watches for the night and then lay down to seek their rest.

Upon awakening the next morning, they resumed their patrol and kept to the same schedule they had set. Eradan dropped the subject of Aragorn and returning to Imladris, but resumed peppering his companions with questions on a great variety of topics. Aragorn watched the twins grow tenser as they approached the mountains, and felt a sense of sorrow. How he would love to be known for himself so that he could reach out and offer comfort to his brothers. But even though they accepted Eradan as a friend, he knew they would not accept such an offer of comfort. So, instead, he used Eradan's penchant for asking questions to distract them from their dark memories and the pain associated with the place they now approached. Though they did not know him as a brother, he would still do what little he could to help them. He considered it a great victory every time he was able to make one of the twins smile or laugh.

It was another two days before they reached the base of the mountains, and began to set up camp in a small cave hidden by foliage. It was still another hour or so until sunset, but this was the best location in the area for a camp, so they stopped earlier than usual. There were enough trees and greenery in the area to hide the horses that they would have to picket outside the cave. The interior of the cave was large enough to harbor all six members of the patrol, and had enough of a draft through the cracks in the back of the cave to pull the smoke from a small cook fire away from those inside. After transferring their packs from their horses to the interior of the cave, the twins decided to go hunting and bring back some fresh meat for the evening's meal while Baran and Tarcil would tend to the horses. Arathorn and Eradan had the task of setting up the camp inside the cave, and gathering the firewood. As the nearby area was littered with broken branches and material enough for a fire, the task was soon finished and they were back inside the cave, preparing their supplies. They worked in silence for a time before Arathorn finally spoke.

"Do not think your actions have escaped my notice," his quiet voice reached Eradan's ears where he sat building the fire.

Eradan looked up in confusion from the pile of sticks in front of him. He didn't think he was doing anything odd, not at the moment, anyway. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully, wondering if he had done something to give himself away.

"Your attempts to distract Elladan and Elrohir," Arathorn said, watching Eradan. "I have noticed how you try to keep their thoughts off of their current location. They have also noticed your efforts, and are quite appreciative. I doubt they would tell you so themselves, not wanting to admit how much this place bothers them, but I have seen how much more relaxed they are on this trip than usual. I would like to thank you for that."

Eradan relaxed as he looked back at Arathorn, sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall of the cave. "No thanks are necessary, my lord. I have seen how tense they became as we approached the mountains. I know how I would feel were we returning to where my father was lost, and I merely wanted to help them in any way I could. They have been quite kind to me, and I wish to return their friendship in whatever small measure I can."

A small smile flickered across Arathorn's face. "Believe me, your actions here are no 'small measure'. I believe the twins have found a true and loyal friend in you. It pleases me to see this. I would encourage you to continue in your efforts. They do not seem nearly as restless and tense as they usually are in this place, and I believe that is only thanks to your presence."

An answering smile formed on Eradan's face as he nodded to Arathorn. "I will be sure to ask them as many questions as come to mind, then, my lord. Are you sure they will not grow weary of answering me?"

Arathorn chuckled at that and opened his mouth to reply when they heard the shrill whinny of one of the horses and Baran's voice as he tried to calm the horses. Sounds of a commotion drifted to them and they both stood, moving toward the entrance of the cave to see what was happening. Arathorn, being closer to the entrance, was ahead of Eradan when the ground started to shake.

Aragorn's eyes opened wide as he realized what was happening. Eradan was pushed aside in his mind as Aragorn came to the fore. A quick glance upward showed that the rock above their heads was beginning to crack under the stresses being applied to it. He glanced quickly around, assessing their situation. They were still too far from the entrance to make it out before the rock collapsed in on them, but they were still too close to the entrance where the rock was most vulnerable to collapse. Lunging forward, he grabbed hold of Arathorn's coat and yanked him backwards, toward the more stable part of the cave. As he did so, an avalanche of rock crumbled down from the ceiling toward them both, stirring up an immense cloud of dust and dirt as it did so. A rain of rocks and pebbles enveloped both men, doubling them over as they tried to avoid the worst of the barrage. Sudden pain flared in Aragorn's head and back as he was struck from behind, and he fell into darkness, hitting the ground hard. Though he did not entirely lose consciousness, he was barely aware of his surroundings as the first, horrible roar of the cave collapsing in on them faded, to be replaced by an uneasy stillness, broken only by the sound of shifting rock and falling pebbles.

Awareness was slow in returning. The first sensation that registered on Aragorn's senses was pain. His head was throbbing and his thoughts were rather fuzzy. Moving very slowly, Aragorn raised a hand to the back of his head and felt a warm, sticky substance. He sighed softly as he realized that his head was bleeding. He would have to see to that in a moment, but before he could do that, he had to see if he had any other injuries. With his next inhalation, he breathed in a lungful of dust, causing him to cough harshly in an effort to clear the intrusive particles from his lungs. When he did, a sharp stabbing pain sliced through him, emanating from a central point on his back. Though the coughing fit caused him a great deal of pain, he found himself unable to stop. It was several more long, pain-filled moments before he had his breathing back under control. He held his hand to his mouth to help filter out the dust a little bit as he lay still on the ground, trying to bring himself back under control enough to finish assessing his situation.

A memory from another lifetime slammed into his mind as he lay there in the dark, trying to breathe. He had been trapped in another cave-in, long ago. It had happened as he had been journeying alone back to Rivendell. Taking refuge in a small cave for the night, there had been another earthquake, and he had found himself trapped, unable to move at all, for the weight of the rock that had fallen upon him had held him trapped in place, and had barely missed crushing him completely. He never knew how long he had lain there, but he had nearly given up on all hope of rescue, as none had known where he was, or even that he had been heading to Imladris. Against all hope, he had eventually been rescued by Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas, but ever since that experience, he had been slightly anxious about small, enclosed spaces. As he heard the silence of the cave and felt the rocks upon his body, he shuddered with fear.

"Stop that!" he ordered himself. He had already been able to move his arm, and he had curled in upon himself in his coughing fit, so he knew he was not trapped as tightly as he had been in the earlier cave-in. Taking shallow breaths in an effort to avoid breathing in more of the dust, he began moving each limb carefully, testing his range of movement and seeing if he was trapped. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he found he was able to move his arms and legs without impediment. Slowly, he rolled over more fully onto his side, dislodging the rocks and debris that had settled on his back. Though it hurt to move, it seemed that a blow to the head and a massive bruise on his back were the worst of his injuries. Forcing himself into a sitting position, he tried to look around at the interior of the cave. However, it was pitch black, as the fire had been extinguished by the rock fall, and the rocks now blocked their path to the cave entrance, and the waning daylight that would have illuminated the cave.

Leaning forward to rest his arms upon his bent knees, he tried to clear his mind enough to remember what had happened, and what he had been doing before the cave-in. His head shot up in a move that spawned a blinding pain in his head as he remembered that he had not been alone in the cave. His father was also in here with him. Holding his hands to his head in an attempt to keep it from falling off his shoulders, he slowly rose to a crouching position. He would not attempt to stand until he knew how high or low the ceiling of the cave was. Stretching an arm above his head, he slowly rose to a standing position. Finding that this part of the cave was high enough to stand upright in, he slowly crouched back down and moved forward a few steps, his hands outstretched and toward the ground, hoping and dreading what he might find. It had him worried that he had heard no other sounds of movement in the cave the entire time he had been awake. If Arathorn was trapped in here as well, he was not moving.

It took several minutes of carefully crawling through the rubble before his outstretched hand brushed a piece of cloth. Freezing for a moment, he carefully traced the cloth until he encountered a warm body. Gently prodding the flesh under his hand, he realized that he had found Arathorn's arm. He followed the arm to the shoulder and found that Arathorn was lying on his stomach, much as Aragorn had been when he awoke. With a trembling hand, he reached around to check Arathorn's pulse in his neck, fearful of what he might find. He closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment in gratitude as he found a strong pulse under his fingers. Knowing that it could do more harm than good to try moving Arathorn until he had fully assessed his situation and injuries, Aragorn let his hands roam carefully over Arathorn's body. As he was examining his head, Aragorn's fingers encountered a very familiar warm liquid near his temple. Knowing he would need to treat the head injury very soon, Aragorn quickened his examination and moved down Arathorn's body, away from his head. He brushed the rocks and debris off of Arathorn's still form as he moved. As he reached Arathorn's legs, he found a larger fall of rock that seemed to have Arathorn pinned in place. Aragorn moved his hands up over the rocks, finding that it was not a solid wall of fallen rocks. He began gently moving the rocks on the top of the pile, being as careful as possible so as to not cause another smaller rock slide. Realizing that it would take many minutes to move all the rocks, he moved back to Arathorn's head, and tore off a strip of his own tunic, binding the wound as best he could while not being able to see what he was doing. He hated to use his tunic for bandages, as it had to be covered with dirt. He nonetheless knew that the first priority was to stop the bleeding, so he had to use whatever he had available. After they were out of here, he could take the time to properly clean the wound. Once he had done all he could to halt the bleeding, he moved back down and began digging Arathorn from the rubble. When at long last he had freed Arathorn's legs from the rubble, he very gently rolled him over onto his back and continued examining him as best he could, looking for further injuries.

When there were no other injuries obvious to his questing fingers, he gently gathered Arathorn into his arms and prayed that he was not exacerbating a hidden injury. Standing in a stooped over position, he walked a few steps toward the back of the cave, trying to get away from the fallen rocks and the worst of the dust still hanging in the air. They had stored some of their supplies toward the back of the cave, and he had hopes that some of the medicines and the water skins had survived the rock fall. Unlike the last time he had been trapped in a cave, Aragorn at least had the assurance that Tarcil, Baran, Elladan and Elrohir were aware of their location and would be working tirelessly to dig them out. They just had to sit tight and wait for help. In the meantime, he would treat their injuries as best he could.

Laying Arathorn gently down on a clear spot near the back of the cave, Aragorn proceeded to search their surroundings. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as his questing hands felt one of their saddlebags. He had found their supplies. Now he just had to see if it was something that would be helpful. The first bag he searched had little other than spare clothing. If he did not find any medical supplies, he would use the clothing as clean bandages, but he still had a few other bags to search. A smile curved his lips as he reached inside one bag and found several cloth-wrapped vials and small drawstring bags of herbs. He very carefully rummaged through the bag and found several rolls of clean bandages. Now, if he could just find some water. He was sure he had placed several water skins back here with the other bags. Pulling the bag with the medicinal supplies closer to Arathorn, he resumed his search until his hands encountered a skin full of clean water.

He now had all of the supplies he needed. The only thing standing in his way now was the fact that he could still not see his hands in front of his face. The darkness was absolute. That would cause a few problems, but he would have to do the best he could. Taking out one of the bandages, he wet it with the water and after gently removing the makeshift bandage from Arathorn's head, he cleaned the wound as best he could without seeing it. Feeling that the bleeding had lessened but not stopped, he reached back into the bag and pulled out another bandage and tightly re-bound Arathorn's wound. Remembering the cut on his own head, he reached back and found that the bleeding had stopped. Taking out another bandage, he cleaned his head, wincing as the wet cloth touched the wound, then wrapped a thin layer of bandages around his own head to keep out the dirt and dust in the cave.

Once the obvious injuries were treated, he put the rest of the supplies carefully back into their bag. Putting the bag aside for the moment, he reached forward and began a more through examination of Arathorn's unconscious form. While he knew the head injury could very well be the sole cause of this inability to wake, he was still concerned that Arathorn had not stirred once since they had been trapped here. To break the silence and provide himself a little company, Aragorn began speaking to Arathorn as he searched somewhat blindly for any hidden injuries.

"You know, this would be much easier if you would wake up and tell me what hurts. I can hardly treat an injury if I do not know it exists, can I?" In the silence that followed his question, Aragorn began to worry that there was truly some hidden injury that he was not able to see, bleeding inside somewhere that could end up claiming Arathorn's life. "I have not come all this way to save your life merely to have you die on your very next patrol, Ada," Aragorn said softly. He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Surely history will not demand your death. I was sent here for a reason. I was told that I may change your fate. But what if that fate insists on claiming you after all? Am I to spend the rest of my life here trying to save yours?" The thought of spending the rest of Eradan's natural life trying to keep Arathorn safe through one dangerous situation after another was not overly appealing to Aragorn. But then, isn't that what he and the rest of the Rangers had done anyway? They spent their lives patrolling the wilds, protecting the innocents and doing their best to keep each other alive through one battle after another. This would not be so different from that, except for the small niggling doubt in Aragorn's mind that perhaps fate would not rest until it had claimed Arathorn's life. However, he would not let that doubt sway his path. "If that is what I must do, I will do it. I will do what I must to keep you alive and a part of your son's life. He needs you, as I did, but I did not have the chance to know you. He will have that chance, I swear it."

Reaching out, he felt his father's face, and was somewhat reassured when it was not too warm, too cold, or clammy, all signs that might indicate problems. Looking back toward the entrance of the cave, he debated on whether he should start attempting to clear away the rocks on this side of the fall to aid the others, or wait for rescue. His first attempt to stand decided the issue for him. While he had been rescuing and treating his father, he had been able to push the pain toward the back of his mind where it did not prevent him from doing what must be done. But now that he had done all he could for his father, all the pain he had been suppressing came back full force. The aborted movement caused his head to start pounding again, and the injury to his back made its presence known with a painful intensity.

"Perhaps I will rest a moment," he gasped, sinking down to sit at his father's side. Reaching toward the packs, he pulled out a few items of clothing that he balled up and placed under Arathorn's head. Making another makeshift pillow for himself, Aragorn lay down carefully on his side and closed his eyes, hoping that with a cessation of movement, the pain would also cease. Before he realized what was happening, he had fallen into a deep sleep. Had he thought about it, he would have tried to avoid falling asleep with a head injury of unknown severity, but that decision was not in his hands.

The next thing he was aware of was a hand gently shaking him awake. Opening his eyes with a great deal of effort, he tried to focus on the face that was surely nearby. All he could see, however, was the darkness that still surrounded them. Struggling to sit up, he felt a hand gently holding him down.

"Do not move just yet, Eradan. I am relieved that you have finally decided to wake."

Aragorn squinted in the direction of Arathorn's voice, wishing he could see his father. "How long?" he rasped out. He could not quite focus his thoughts through the pain still pounding in his head.

"I have been awake for awhile, and was unable to rouse you from your slumber. Upon feeling the bandage wound round your head, I became rather worried." Arathorn could not hide the relief in his voice that Eradan was now awake.

"Other than a headache, I am fine," Aragorn said, brushing aside Arathorn's hands and struggling to a sitting position. "I am relieved that you are awake. I was worried myself when I could not wake you. I found only your head injury. Are you injured anywhere else? I need to know if you have any other injuries that need treatment." Aragorn's words came out thicker than normal, and he was beginning to think that he had suffered at least a minor concussion. Had the twins of his world or Legolas been here, they would have rolled their eyes at his declaration of being 'fine' and directed him to the nearest bed. He was hoping that Arathorn would not know him quite so well and believe his declaration.

"I can tell by your voice that you are not 'fine'," Arathorn replied.

So much for that hope, Aragorn thought with a wry grin. "Very well, I may have a slight concussion, and my back is bruised from the falling rocks. However, I fear you may have been injured worse than I. I had to dig you out of the rubble. Are your legs injured? You still have not answered my question."

Arathorn sighed at Eradan's persistence. It seemed he would not be able to avoid answering Eradan's questions. "There is nothing broken, though I may have twisted my ankle. It feels quite bruised, and will not easily hold my weight. I also have a headache, but seem to be doing reasonably well, otherwise."

Arathorn's voice was matter-of-fact, but Aragorn could hear the pain that he was trying to hide. However, Aragorn also knew he could not push the matter further, not until he was able to see Arathorn and give him a more thorough examination, anyway. "I am relieved to hear it," Aragorn answered instead. "I had feared that there was some injury I could not see that would claim your life before help could arrive."

"Then rest easy," Arathorn answered. "I am not in so much pain that I believe that to be a danger."

Aragorn tried once again to rise, only to rapidly sink back to sit on the ground as his head began spinning.

"What are you doing?" Arathorn asked sharply, hearing the soft movement and the hiss of pain emanating from Eradan.

Aragorn clenched his teeth against the pain and breathed deeply for a moment to help ease the dizziness. It was a long moment before he could answer, and when he did, his words came out haltingly as he tried to speak through the pain raging once more in his head. "I thought to stand…but found I could not."

"If you are concussed, you should not make an attempt to move," Arathorn chided him, knowing how much pain the young man was in. When he had attempted to stand earlier, he had been in much the same condition as Eradan. "Stay still where you are and wait for the others to reach us."

"I had hoped…to help move some of…the rocks from this side." Aragorn spoke softly as the pain in his head slowly began to recede with the cessation of movement.

"I believe they can dig us out without help from either of us," Arathorn answered, knowing that neither of them were in any shape to try moving rocks, or even to try moving themselves at the moment.

"They will have to," Aragorn agreed, knowing he would not be able to move again. That last attempt had nearly been more than he could handle. Aragorn drew his knees up and rested his aching head on the arm he draped across his knees. A soft chuckle escaped him as he thought of something. "Are all of your patrols this…eventful? First the orc attack, and now a cave-in?" He couldn't help but think of what Legolas would have said in a situation like this. His friend certainly would have ended up blaming Aragorn for the events that befell them. Either Legolas was correct, and Aragorn's luck was following him as Eradan, or Arathorn suffered from similar luck, and Aragorn had come by it honestly.

"No," Arathorn answered with a soft chuckle of his own. The situation in itself was not humorous, but Eradan's question had made it seem so, at least a little. "Most of the patrols are quite uneventful, quiet even. Do not fear, Eradan. You will not end up injured on every patrol." His brow furrowed as he realized that so far, on his two patrols, Eradan had indeed been injured. He certainly hoped that trend did not continue. His mind flashed back to just before the cave-in, and he realized that Eradan had likely saved his life by pulling him toward the back of the cave, away from most of the falling rocks. So, Eradan had saved his life twice now? "It appears that I am once again in your debt," he said softly. "This appears to be twice now that you have saved my life."

To Arathorn's surprise, another chuckle was Eradan's response to his comment. "Have you ever thought of making me your bodyguard? It would seem you need one."

Arathorn could not quite believe the temerity of the boy in making the offer. Eradan was a young man, out on his first patrol, and he offered himself as Arathorn's bodyguard? But then, Arathorn had just acknowledged that Eradan had saved his life twice now, had he not? "Perhaps I should, at that." Eradan had certainly shown his willingness to place himself in danger to save his chieftain, a needed quality in a bodyguard, but Arathorn hated to place a burden like that on one so young. Especially not one that he had taken responsibility for, as he had for Eradan. Then there was Eradan's vision that had shown him acting as advisor to Aragorn sometime in the future. Should he not do everything he could to shelter the young man and help him learn what he needed to know to be such an advisor? But what if it was by acting as bodyguard to Arathorn that he learned what he needed to know? Arathorn's head hurt too much at the moment to make such life-changing decisions. Maybe it would not be necessary to actually name Eradan as such, but simply to keep him near at all times. In that way, he would see first-hand what it meant to be chieftain of the Dúnedain, and be able to help guide Aragorn in the future.

"But whether that happens in the future or not, it does seem that I have great reason to keep you close to me, for your safety as well as my own." His comments indicated in no uncertain terms that Eradan would not be named a bodyguard until he was older. "It does seem that you attract trouble of all sorts." His voice was amused as he said the last, making it clear that he did not blame Eradan for any of the events that had occurred. How could anything that happened have been Eradan's fault, in any event? It was only unfortunate coincidence that these things had happened on Eradan's first two times out on patrol.

Aragorn groaned softly to himself as he heard Arathorn's last comment. It seemed that he would once again acquire a reputation as one who was followed by trouble at every turn. If he was not careful, it would become a running joke as to how often he was injured. That part of his life seemed fated to repeat, no matter what guise he was known under.

Arathorn smiled slightly in response to Eradan's groan. He could tell by the tone of it that it had been Eradan's response to his comment and not caused by the pain that Eradan was in. If nothing else, he had to admire the young man's ability to see humor in situations that might leave other experienced warriors more than a little discomfited. Eradan, however, seemed quite able to take such things in stride.

At that moment, Eradan started coughing slightly, the dust in the air causing him problems. Arathorn remembered that he had not had anything to drink since waking, and reached over for one of the water skins that he had found near him upon waking in this darkness. He reached over and placed it in Eradan's hand. "Here, drink. At least we do have a supply of fresh water here."

Eradan took a long drink before replying. "Yes, that is a blessing." Aragorn reflected on the misery he experienced the last time he was trapped in a cave-in, with no water to drink, and no way to move enough to drink it even if he had had any near to hand. All in all, he much preferred this experience to his last cave-in.

Arathorn heard something odd in Eradan's voice as he replied, but when nothing further was said, decided to let the matter go. As there seemed nothing for them to do but wait for rescue, he settled himself against the wall near his position and started telling Eradan about the history of the Dúnedain. Talking would keep him awake, and listening and responding to him would keep Eradan awake. Knowing they both had head injuries, Arathorn wanted to make sure neither of them had the chance to drift back to sleep.

Many hours later, they heard the first sounds of scraping and moving of rocks in the direction of the entrance of the cave. Arathorn crawled over to the pile of rocks, and heard Eradan also moving beside him. They could now hear voices coming faintly from the other side, calling their names.

"We're here!" Arathorn called back through the wall of rock. "Eradan and I are both here!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elladan turned to Elrohir in relief at the sound of Arathorn's voice coming through the rock. Though he and Elrohir had been out hunting when the earthquake happened, the trees around them had sent out warnings of danger. They could not hear the voices of the trees as clearly as the wood elves, but they had heard this warning quite clearly. Abandoning their pursuit of the doe they had been tracking, they ran back to the clearing they had left the others in. A scene of chaos had greeted them upon their return.

Baran and Tarcil were trying desperately to calm the terrified horses, and the entrance of the cave was now nothing but a pile of tumbled rock. Racing into the clearing, Elrohir and Elladan had taken the reins of the horses, speaking to them until they had calmed enough not to run off.

Once the horses were calmed, Elladan turned to Baran. "Where are Arathorn and Eradan?"

"They were in the cave when the earthquake started," Baran said, his voice quite grim as he stared back at the rockslide.

"No," Elrohir breathed the word in horror as he approached them. He too, turned to look at the rocks blocking the cave.

"Have you heard anything from them? Do you know if they still live?" Elladan asked Baran fiercely.

The man stepped back away from Elladan at the look on the peredhil's face. "We do not know. There has been no sound from the cave. We do not know whether they yet live."

Elladan's expression darkened. "This mountain has claimed too many victims already. Arathorn and Eradan will not be among them. We must reach them. Tie the horses up and help me start digging."

Despite his words, they did not start digging immediately. After staking the horses a short distance away, they studied the rock fall as best they could in the waning daylight. Only once it was determined that digging into the rock fall would not further destabilize the mountain did they start actually moving any of the rocks. A full moon soon rose, shining its light onto their efforts to dig through the mound of rocks. They dug in silence for most of the night, without any sign that they were nearing the end of the rock slide or that the ones they sought were still alive. As they had yet to find any sign that Arathorn and Eradan had perished, though, Elladan chose to believe that they were still alive and waiting for rescue.

As the rocks began to come away more easily and they began to think they were nearing the end, they began calling out for Arathorn and Eradan. It was nearly morning and they were beginning to give up hope, when their calls were finally answered. While the voice was too faint for Baran and Tarcil to make out the words, Elladan and Elrohir could hear Arathorn's voice confirming that they were both alive and just on the other side of the rocks. That was all they needed to buoy their spirits, and they quickened their pace, and just as the sun began lightening the sky, they broke through to the other side.

After clearing a space large enough to crawl through, Elladan was the first into the cave. Though the light was dim, Eradan and Arathorn were shielding their eyes from the light filtering in through the hole. A frown crossed his face when he saw the bandages wrapped around their heads. Crouching down beside Arathorn, he reached out to gently touch the bandage. "How badly are you injured? Can you make it out of the cave?" A glance toward Eradan included him in the questions.

"I believe we are well enough to go that far," Arathorn responded. "My ankle will not enable me to stand on it, but I can crawl out of here if need be."

"Eradan?" Elladan asked, glancing toward the young man.

"I am well enough to leave this place," he answered with a look around the interior of the cave. "We need to be sure to take our supplies. The water and bandages were quite useful to us, and we will need them outside this cave, as well."

Elladan nodded and quickly gathered up the saddlebags and water skins that had been stored in the cave, then handed them to Baran and Tarcil through the hole, while Elrohir joined them in the cave to help him escort the wounded out. Once they were all safely outside, Elladan and Elrohir made Arathorn and Eradan sit down on some nearby rocks to examine their injuries.

Choosing a patient, Elladan treated Arathorn's injuries while Elrohir treated Eradan. Unwinding the bandages, they found only superficial cuts marring Arathorn and Eradan's heads, though it would still be wise to keep an eye on them for some time to come. Cleaning and re-bandaging their head injuries only took a few minutes.

Placing a hand on Arathorn's shoulder, Elladan nodded in satisfaction. "You did a very good job of treating your injuries without being able to see anything. If the bleeding had not been stopped in time, you would not be doing so well right now."

"I thank you, but it was Eradan who treated our injuries, not me. I was unconscious after the cave-in, and Eradan dug me out and then cleaned and bandaged both our wounds."

Both peredhel looked askance at Eradan, who simply gazed back evenly at them.

"You truly do have the instincts of a healer, especially for one so young. If you agree, I would like to begin training you in the ways of a healer. The Dunedain are always in need of a trained healer." Studying Eradan's face intently, Elladan awaited a response.

Nodding his head slowly and carefully, Eradan kept his gaze on Elladan. "I would be quite honored to have you train me in this." When Elladan nodded and returned his attention to Arathorn, Elrohir asked Eradan to tell him if he had any other injuries.

"I bruised my back when the cave-in happened. I was hit by some of the falling rocks. While it does not feel serious, it is causing me some pain." Eradan was honest in this, knowing that the twins would find whatever injuries he had, whether he told them or not.

Elrohir carefully helped the young man out of his shirt and examined his back with a critical eye. "Aye, you did bruise it quite badly, but there is more damage here than mere bruises. You have a rather nasty gash across your back. I am afraid that it will need at least a few stitches to close. It will also require a thorough cleaning, as there appears to be a great deal of dust mixed in with the dried blood. We must do what we can to help avoid infection."

Groaning miserably, Eradan dropped his head to his chest, knowing how much that was going to hurt. And since they would be concerned about his head injury, they would be disinclined to give him any pain-killing tea. A hand touched his head with a gentle touch, and Eradan looked up to see Elrohir smiling sympathetically down at him.

"I will be as gentle as I can, you have my word. And this may be a good time for your first lesson in poultices that can be made to help prevent infection."

"I would much prefer it if I were not learning how to treat my own injuries," Eradan said with a wry grin.

The others all laughed at that comment and it was a release of all the tension they had felt over the course of the long night. Elladan and Elrohir proceeded to treat the rest of the injuries, Elrohir stitching Eradan's back and placing a healing poultice over it, while Elladan immobilized Arathorn's ankle with a stiff bandage. Declaring that neither man was fit to move on immediately, they set up camp nearby and remained for two days before the injured were healed enough to continue. Once they were cleared to return to normal activity, the group resumed its regular patrol of the Redhorn pass and the Misty Mountains.

Since it's been a couple of months since I posted a 'twins' chapter, I thought a quick recap might be in order. When last we saw the twins, they, Celebrían and Glorfindel had just arrived in Lothlórien. Once there, they met with Galadriel and Celeborn and informed them of what had happened, and that Elrohir's vision had saved Celebrían and her patrol. Galadriel, sensing there was more to the matter had Celeborn escort Celebrían on a walk while she spoke to the twins and Glorfindel. She was shown that the twins were from the future and some of what had happened to them after Celebrían sailed in their original history. Not trusting that their trip into the past was a good thing, Galadriel counseled her grandsons not to tell anyone else about where (or when) they were from and to try not to do anything else to change history. And that about brings us to where this chapter picks up…

Disclaimers and author's notes in previous chapters.

Chapter Seven

Galadriel and Glorfindel excused themselves, leaving the twins alone to talk. They now had a great many things to think about. While Elladan had often wondered about the motives of the Being that had sent them back here, they had not really considered the idea that they may have been sent back to disrupt history and change things for the worse.

Elrohir looked over at his brother and spoke into the silence. "So what do we do now?"

Shaking his head to indicate his own uncertainty, Elladan shrugged. "We must continue to live our lives as if we knew nothing about the future and naneth's capture had never happened."

"Yes, but do we try to re-live things as they happened before, or stand aside and let history occur without our interference?" Elrohir asked. "We can not become Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen again. Neither of us could truly come back from that a second time. Besides, now we have no reason to become them. I do not think it possible to attempt to re-create the lives we led the first time through."

"True," Elladan said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. Looking into his brother's eyes, he put forth a question. "Which path would have the least repercussions for our world? Should we still ride with the patrols and the Dúnedain? Those actions would not be seen as unusual for us. There are still many orcs roaming our lands, and you and I have ever sought to protect our lands and people."

Elrohir nodded in agreement. "We could do that, but do you think we would be able to refrain from saving the lives of those we know are destined to die? As grandmother pointed out, any other changes we make may have unforeseen consequences. But would either of us be able to stand by and allow Arathorn to take that arrow again? He is but one example, and there are many I would save if I could."

Elladan's face darkened. "No, I could not stand by and allow Arathorn to die again any more than you could. But should we not save him? I do not think I would be able to face Aragorn again, knowing we took the opportunity to save our mother, but did not do the same for his father."

A look of pain flashed across Elrohir's face. "I know the pain he felt over the loss of his father, and not having the chance to know him, but do we dare try to change that? Aragorn's life is pivotal in recent events of our world in a way that our own lives are not. Do we dare try to change a thing about his life? He must live, and while I do not like to suggest it, I believe that he must live exactly as he did for the sake of our world. I do know what pains and struggles he faced in his life. I would spare him that, if I could, but if we take that from him, he might not become the man, the king, that he was meant to be."

Though the very thought caused them both a great deal of pain, Elladan had to admit that Elrohir had a point. Aragorn's life was far too important to the defeat of Sauron for them to take any chances with altering even a single detail. Thinking back to the years they had ridden with the Dúnedain, though, another question occurred to him. "El, how many times over the years did we save the life of one of the heirs of Isildur in battle? If we are not there to do so again, might the line end far too early and Aragorn never be born?"

Taking in a sudden breath, Elrohir nearly panicked at the thought. "We can certainly not take that chance, but then, what are we to do? The line must continue, unbroken until Aragorn's birth."

"Perhaps we can ride with fewer patrols," Elladan mused. "We could ride out when we know someone's life is in danger, but that they survived the battle. That way we could be there to ensure that they do not die in a battle that did not originally claim their life."

"And refuse to ride out when we know that a battle claimed a life the first time?" Elrohir's tone was doubtful. He did not like the thought of letting those he cared for simply ride off to their deaths, but he knew that if he were present, he would change history by trying to save them.

Lowering his head to stare at the ground, Elladan shook his head again. He did not like the thought of sending their friends off to die, either. It struck him as slightly cowardly, but he did not see another choice. It was not the best solution, but it was at least a reasonable compromise. They could not risk changing more than they already had.

Nodding his head and straightening up, Elladan looked back at his brother then. "So, we are agreed? While we will still ride out to protect our home, we will do so less frequently and avoid certain patrols?"

Elrohir took a deep breath and slowly let it out before nodding his agreement. It was not what either of them would have wanted, but it was something they could live with. "Agreed."

Standing up, Elladan smiled down at his brother, trying to lighten the mood. "Look at it this way. At least now we will be able to spend more time at home with Naneth, Adar and Arwen. Our family is whole again, El. We should take the time to enjoy it."

An answering smile crossed Elrohir's face as he thought about Elladan's words. "You are right, muindor. Now, what say you? Should we go find our family and grace them with our ever charming presence?"

"Aye, we should," Elladan said. He gestured for Elrohir to rise and precede him out the door.

----------------------------------

Galadriel and Glorfindel had found Celeborn and Celebrían returning from their stroll, and stopped to speak with them.

Celebrían looked back and forth from her mother to the captain of her husband's forces. "Where are my sons? If you will remember, I did say that I wanted them returned in one piece, did I not?" She looked beyond her mother, then gave her an amused, but questioning look.

Galadriel smiled at her daughter reassuringly. "We left them alone to discuss a few things, that is all. They will be down shortly."

"And what did they have to discuss?" Celebrían asked, crossing her arms and giving Galadriel an expectant look.

A sigh escaped Galadriel as she looked seriously at her daughter. "They have to decide what to do about what they have seen in their visions."

"Their visions?" Celebrían asked, dropping her arms and her teasing demeanor. "What do you mean? They told me that Elrohir had only had the one vision and had used it to save me."

"No, I am afraid it is much more than that," Galadriel answered. "They both have the gift of foresight, which is not exactly unexpected, given their bloodlines." She shook her head sadly, remembering the look of despair she had seen on their faces as they recounted some of the events they had lived through. "Some of their visions were quite…disturbing, and while I have given them my opinion, it is now up to them to decide if and how they will act upon them."

Looking sharply at Glorfindel, Celebrían's eyes narrowed. Knowing she would get no real answers from her mother, she decided to try Glorfindel. "What are these dark things that my sons have seen?"

Glorfindel frowned and shook his head slowly before replying. "It is not my place to tell you, as I was told in confidence. If they choose to share these visions, it must be their decision alone."

A frown crossed Celebrían's face. If her sons were truly so troubled, should they not feel they could come to her? From the time they were born, if they were hurt or troubled, it was she to whom they ran for comfort. What had changed now, so that they felt they could not share this with her?

Before she could open her mouth to demand more answers that she likely would not be given, Celebrían saw her sons emerge from behind the trunk of a nearby tree. Quickly crossing over to them and laying a hand on each of their arms, she gazed long into first the eyes of one son, then the other. What she saw there startled her. There was a depth of knowledge and of pain there that had not been there the last time she had looked. What had happened to them to put such a look in their eyes? Surely the visions alone could not have been so powerful and so painful as to change them so deeply?

Knowing his mother was seeing far more than he was comfortable with, Elladan shook his head slightly and smiled at Celebrían to ease her worries, placing his hand on hers. "Fear not, Naneth. All will be well." He looked up as Galadriel and the others approached.

"You have come to a decision?" Galadriel asked, seeing the resolve in their eyes.

"We have," Elladan said. "The darkness is spreading over our lands, and the armies of Mordor grow daily. Simply riding with the Imladris patrols and protecting our home is not enough. The Dúnedain cover a greater range and protect all of the free peoples of Middle-earth. As Naneth's near capture showed, we cannot simply sit by and allow others to fight without joining them. We intend to go to Arahad and offer our services in some of his patrols. While we do intend to keep our places among the Imladris patrols, we will also ride out with the Dúnedain."

Galadriel nodded, knowing that they had ridden with the Dúnedain in their original history, but worrying that they would use that opportunity to save the lives of those that they had seen perish. Elrohir caught her gaze and with a glance, invited her into his mind. He showed her the compromise that he and Elladan had decided upon, and she nodded once more to him, agreeing with their plans. She could tell that it did not sit entirely well with either of them, but it was likely the best path they could follow. Changes would undoubtedly still occur, but perhaps would be minimized this way. She would simply have to trust that they would act in the best interests of Middle-earth.

Feeling his mother's grip tighten on his arm, Elladan looked back to Celebrían. There was a worried look in her eyes that Elladan felt he had to soothe. She apparently did not like the idea of them riding with the Dúnedain.

A smile graced his face as he stared at his mother. "Do not worry, we will still spend time at home with you and Adar," he reassured her.

"It will take more than a few visions to chase us away from home," Elrohir added in a teasing tone. "You will not get rid of us so easily."

At his comment, Glorfindel and Galadriel exchanged a covert glance, knowing exactly what it had taken to make the twins leave Imladris behind so frequently and hunt orcs so relentlessly. Celebrían missed the look, and smiled at her sons, reassured by their comments, though she still worried about them riding to battle more often.

"Come," Elrohir said, wishing to break the tension that had settled over the group. "Nothing will be done about this while we are here, so there is no point worrying now. We have been traveling for some time and have not had a meal in many hours. Would it be possible to find something to eat?"

Galadriel smiled at her grandson, knowing what he was doing. "I do believe that could be arranged." With that, she turned to find Celeborn standing beside her.

He offered her his arm and as she took it, pulled her gently to his side. Leaning in toward her, he whispered in her ear. "Do not forget that you promised to tell me what is bothering our grandsons."

"I will tell you as much as I may," she replied to his mind without speaking aloud.

Celeborn nodded his head, knowing he would get only as much as she felt she could share, then led the others toward the kitchens to find something for their company to eat.

On the way to the kitchens, Elladan came up with an idea. "Daernaneth, could you arrange for a picnic basket to be made up? It has been long since the two of us have had a simple picnic with our naneth."

Celebrían looked at her son. "That does sound like a good idea. I agree that it has been long." She wanted to spend some time alone with her sons and see if she could find out what they had seen, what made them seem so different now.

With a glance at the twins, Galadriel knew that they wanted to take this chance to spend time with the mother that they had lost centuries ago. Not knowing what the future might hold for them all now, she did not begrudge them this time, and nodded. "That sounds like a pleasant way to spend the day. I will have the cooks arrange a basket."

Nodding his head, Elrohir thanked her. Galadriel read in his eyes how much this chance with his mother meant to him.

A quick word with the cooks resulted in a picnic basket overflowing with food. With a nod of thanks, Elladan picked up the basket and Elrohir offered Celebrían his arm. As the three walked away, Celeborn gestured for Galadriel to lead the way back to their private chambers. Glorfindel watched the Lord and Lady of the Woods leave and wished Galadriel wisdom in choosing what to tell her husband, and luck that he would not push to know more than she was willing to share. Finding himself alone for the first time in many days, Glorfindel decided to wander and enjoy the peace and tranquility of the realm.

Leading the way, Elladan chose a place they had often visited when they were younger, a peaceful place that young elflings could play under the watchful eyes of their parents. A small brook meandered through a clearing surrounded by mallorn trees. A smile crossed Celebrían 's face as she recognized the place Elladan had chosen.

"I trust this has your approval?" Elladan asked with a smile on his face.

"Of course it does," she responded. "It has been quite some time since we have been back here. I remember the first time I brought you both here. You were so much smaller then." A glint of humor shone in her eyes as she looked at her sons, both whom now stood several inches taller than she. "At that time, I could carry you both in my arms, and now…"

Elrohir chuckled at the thought of her attempting to lift either of them now. Taking the blanket from the top of the basket, he spread it out and offered his arm to his mother. Taking his hand, she sank gracefully to sit on the blanket as her sons seated themselves near her and began removing the items for their meal. As they ate, Celebrían kept the topic of conversation light, wanting to have a pleasant meal in each other's company before she broached the topic she truly wanted to discuss. They reminisced about other visits to the Golden Wood, childhood memories, and people they had not had occasion to visit for some time.

Celebrían looked at her sons fondly. Elrohir was reclining on the blanket, working his way through a small bunch of grapes, and laughing easily at a comment Elladan had just made. Elladan was sitting a short distance away, leaning his back against the trunk of a tree, relaxing and doing his best to make his brother laugh. This was how she preferred to see her sons, laughing and simply enjoying themselves. Though they were usually lighthearted, as they had grown and taken on greater roles in the running and protection of Imladris, they had grown much more serious. Her sons were now formidable warriors as well as proper elven lords in their own right. She knew that they could not have remained elflings forever, but she had wished they could hold on to more of their innocence than they had been allowed to. But as the times darkened, no one who rode out on patrol could remain ignorant of the evils that existed in their world. It was why she was never too upset when they played pranks on others. Those moments of mischief showed that they had not truly lost the ability to take joy in simple things, and they were never mean-spirited in their actions.

Seeing them now so relaxed and joyful made her hesitate to broach the subject she knew she must. Having seen that look of despair in their eyes earlier, she must determine the reasons for it and see if she could help them in any way. As their mother, it was her place to help them. But she did not wish to shatter the peace they now obviously felt.

Elladan chose that moment to start lobbing cherries at his brother, and Elrohir retaliated by tossing grapes back. Celebrían decided that this was as good a time as any to intervene, or they would all end up covered in fruit. "Enough, you two. Anyone would think you were only twenty years old, the way you behave." Though there was laughter in her voice, the twins well knew to listen to her and immediately ceased throwing fruit at each other.

"Sorry, Naneth," Elrohir said, sitting up and brushing the loose cherries off of his clothing. "I was not the one who started this, though."

"I care not who started it, you both participated, and you will both clean up this mess." Honestly, there were times that they took this whole lighthearted elfling thing too far. She shook her head at the thought that she had just been praising the fact that they sometimes did not act their age.

"Yes, Nana," they chorused as they began picking up the now bruised fruit and piling them on the edge of the blanket. When they were finished, they both looked at her, awaiting her response.

"Good. Now, please have a seat." With a gesture, she indicated the blanket in front of her.

Sensing her serious mood, the twins glanced at each other and quickly seated themselves on the blanket near her.

"What is it, Naneth? What is bothering you?" Elrohir asked, ever sensitive to the moods of those around him.

Celebrían took a deep breath and simply asked what was foremost on her mind. "What have you seen in your visions? I saw the pain in your eyes, and I want to help you, if I can."

Their reactions shocked her, being completely different than she would have expected. Pain and anguish immediately clouded their eyes, followed by a wariness she would never have thought to see. They were wary of her, their own mother. Then, almost as one, the rush of emotions stopped, and the eyes she stared into were blank, almost cold. That scared her more than anything else she had ever seen. What could have happened to put that look into their eyes? What had they seen?

Elladan could not hold her gaze, and abruptly stood, striding several paces away to stand with his back to them, his body tense. Elrohir, though he did not move away, turned his head to stare into the waters of the babbling brook. The tension hung thick in the clearing for an interminable moment.

Celebrían reached forward and gently laid a hand on Elrohir's shoulder, not knowing if her touch would be welcome. Feeling the unaccustomed hesitancy in his mother's touch, Elrohir cursed himself for his reaction. They finally had their mother back, and he certainly did not want to do anything to chase her away now. Taking a deep breath to control the emotions her questions roused, he glanced back at her and held her gaze, making sure that she could see his apology and his love for her in his eyes. "Forgive me, Nana. We did not mean to upset you so. Your questions simply took us off guard. The things we have seen…" he shook his head, not certain how to explain it, or how much they could tell her about the future.

"Many of the things we have seen are dark, and so evil that it brings us pain to even think about it," Elladan spoke, saving Elrohir the trouble. He did not turn around, however, as it was easier to say what he must if he were not looking at his mother. "Your capture was not all that we saw. We saw beyond that, far beyond that moment. Our visions showed us what the future would have held if you had been captured by those foul creatures. What they would have done to you…" He closed his eyes and bowed his head, shuddering at the memory, unable to continue.

Celebrían caught her breath and stared into Elrohir's eyes again, seeing such pain, despair and rage that she could not bear to hold his gaze. This time, it was she who dropped her eyes. Elladan found his voice again and continued, his voice low and harsh. "The future we saw after that was dark, days and centuries of pain and death and battle, blurring together. No hope, no light, no peace. It was unimaginable, Naneth, and not something that we find it easy to talk about. If you truly wish to help us, please do not ask us about those visions again."

Her heart broke at the pain she saw and felt in her sons. Did this vision show what would have happened to her family after her death? Surely her death would not have done this to her sons? They would have been able to continue without her, wouldn't they?

Elrohir, sensing her confusion and growing despair, reached out and drew her gaze up to meet his eyes. "Not all that we have seen is so dark. Yes, the darkness will spread over our lands, the numbers of the enemy increasing by the day, but there is still hope. We have also seen love, and light and laughter. It only seems that the darkness is winning. Do not lose all hope, Naneth. There is still light ahead. And besides," his voice lightened a bit, "you were not captured, so all that we foresaw is changed. None of that will happen now." His gaze was on his mother, but his words were aimed at Elladan.

Elladan's shoulders relaxed a bit as he realized that Elrohir was right. It was far too easy for them both to be caught up in their memories, reliving those dark days after Celebrían's capture. He had to remember that they had averted that fate. Their mother was here with them, safe and whole in the peace of Lothlórien. Turning back, he met his mother's worried eyes. "Forgive me. Those visions haunt me. They haunt us both. I did not mean to burden you with them."

"I am your mother, Elladan. If it is within my power, I will ever try to relieve your burdens and ease your pain." She held her hand out to him, and he stepped forward, taking her hand in his and sinking to once again sit on the blanket before her. Reaching forward, she placed her hand behind his head to pull him closer so that he could rest his head on her shoulder. Doing the same for Elrohir, she held them both close, wanting to take their pain from them, and knowing that she could not. She could only hope that they would take comfort in her presence, knowing that the dark future they had seen would not now come to pass. Elrohir shuddered in her arms and clutched her so tightly that she felt as if he would never let go. She held him all the tighter, reassuring him with her presence, and wondering how a vision could have affected them both so strongly.

It was many long minutes before either of the peredhel could pull themselves away from their mother's comforting embrace. Far too many years had passed since they had been able to do this and they did not want to let go. Finally, Elladan forced himself to move out of Celebrían's arms. Laying a hand on Elrohir's back, he leant his support to his younger brother, letting him know that he felt the same jumble of emotions. A brief nod was Elrohir's response, then he too pulled away from Celebrían.

Celebrían looked back and forth between her sons, seeing the same inscrutable expression mirrored on their faces. Whatever her sons had seen, it broke her heart to see them like this. Though her curiosity was close to overwhelming her common sense, her maternal instincts kept her from asking them anything more about their visions. "I can see how badly your visions have affected you. If you ever wish to talk about them, I would be willing to listen. However, I will do as you requested and never bring them up again. It will be your choice if you choose to discuss them. I will not push for answers."

A flash of relief crossed the faces of both of her sons, and Elladan nodded. "Thank you, Nana."

To her disappointment, neither of the twins seemed to be in the mood to continue the picnic, and they quickly packed up the basket and headed back to join the others. Celebrían hated the fact that her questions had chased away the playful, relaxed elflings and left in their place these serious, quiet, and withdrawn elves. If it would spare her sons pain, she would never mention those visions again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Haldir watched with no little amusement as the usually serene Celebrían paced before him. "I do not see how that could be considered a problem," he commented. "I myself am rather glad of the fact." Celebrían had been worrying about the behavior of her sons practically since the day they arrived, and now, three weeks later, had confided her worries to Haldir, one of her oldest friends.

Allowing herself a small smile, she stopped pacing and turned to look at him. "Yes, I can see that you would be quite relieved to have been spared any pranks thus far, but you know this is far from their normal behavior."

Haldir did have to admit that she was right. Elladan and Elrohir had seemed to be on their best behavior the whole time they had been here. "They are more serious than usual," he admitted with a nod. "But that is not necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps they are merely growing up?"

Celebrían had to laugh at that. "Haldir, they are nearly two thousand, three hundred and eighty years old! They could hardly be considered elflings! They have been full grown for many centuries now."

"You couldn't tell it by the way they act," Haldir pointed out helpfully.

"And that is precisely my point," Celebrían said, turning around and taking a seat on a nearby rock to keep herself from pacing again. "I have seen them in many guises in their lives; warrior, diplomat, elven lord, and yes, sometimes they are as playful elflings. Now they seem to have taken on the roles of elven lords. It may be appropriate to their status, but that is not normally how they act here." She sighed and looked away. "I asked Naneth about their visions. I did not see how visions could have affected them as deeply as I witnessed the day of our arrival."

Haldir nodded silently. She had told him of the events that had taken place during their picnic. The change in her sons when she asked about their visions had shaken her badly. He had not known what to say to comfort her when she had confided that her sons had seemed as strangers for that brief moment. "What did the Lady say?"

Celebrían took a deep breath before speaking again. "As you know, I also have the gift of foreknowledge, though it is not as strong in me as it is in my mother and my husband. I only have a vague sense of things, I have feelings about how this or that will turn out, either for good or ill. Both Naneth and Elrond have full visions, they actually see events play out, though they are often fragmented, showing bits and pieces of what may happen. Naneth told me that my sons have visions of a different kind. For them, it is as if they have lived what they saw. They actually feel as if they experienced the horrors in their minds. I cannot imagine how they are dealing with their visions, and I have sworn not to ask them in order to spare them pain." Celebrían shook her head in frustration. "I am supposed to help my children, protect them from pain, but I cannot even discuss it with them. And they are not acting at all normal. Even when they laugh, I can see the shadow in their eyes. They have changed, and I do not know how to help them."

Haldir shook his head in resignation. He did not know what advice to give his lifelong friend. While he much preferred the more serious nature of the twins that he had seen on this visit, he shared Celebrían's concern. He, too, had seen the shadow Celebrían had mentioned. Every now and then, when they thought no one was watching, one or the other of the twins would glance toward Celebrían with a fearful, expectant look in their eyes, as if they expected her to suddenly vanish in front of their eyes. Haldir had been caught quite by surprise the first time he had seen the pain that resided in the eyes of them both. It had certainly not been there when they had last met, a century ago. If a vision could change them so greatly, he found himself quite thankful that he did not have visions. "I do not know if your sons will accept my help, but I will try to do whatever I may to help them return to their normal exuberant selves. No matter the cost to my own well being when they decide to start tormenting me again." His last line had the desired effect of bringing a smile to Celebrían's lips and she relaxed her tense pose.

"Thank you, Haldir. You are a true friend."

"I try," he said, returning her smile and gesturing for her to lead the way back toward the main hall.

------------------------------------------------------

Haldir thought back to his conversation with Celebrían as he sat watching the twins on the sparring field several weeks later. To Celebrían's relief, both of her sons had been able to relax in the tranquility of Lothlórien. They no longer watched her so fearfully when they thought no one saw, and they had begun to laugh and tease each other more frequently. However, they were still more serious and behaving themselves remarkably well. If one were to look deep enough, they could still see the shadow lurking beneath the surface. It was not gone, merely buried, and it seemed to him that the shadow was buried with the ease of long practice. But if the visions had only recently started, they should not be so comfortable with hiding that darkness. Celebrían's fears were confirmed in Haldir's mind the more he observed of them. Both Elladan and Elrohir had changed, and Haldir had begun to suspect that it was from more than a series of visions.

Nowhere were his suspicions more strongly roused than here, as he watched them fighting. Elladan was sparring with Glorfindel, while Elrohir was sparring with Celeborn. Their styles had not changed overly much, but they showed a level of skill that Haldir did not realize they possessed. While he had not spent as much time training them as Glorfindel or the other Imladris tutors had, he had helped further their training during their visits to Lothlórien, and he had never seen them like this. When they were much younger, Glorfindel had had difficulty curbing their playful natures, and he had finally made it a rule that when they were on the sparring field, they had to be serious, focused fighters, or they would not be allowed on the field. They had gotten used to that rule, and abided by it well, but Haldir had never seen them this focused. Though they were sparring with family and those close enough to be considered family, they seemed to be fighting as fiercely as if their lives depended on it.

Celeborn and Glorfindel were still the better fighters, having many more centuries of practice, but the twins had long shown a great aptitude with swords. From what he saw now, Haldir was convinced that anyone with less skill and experience in combat than their current opponents would have fallen to the twins long ago. Haldir, though he was much older, was better with a bow than a sword, like many of the Galadrim, and he was sure he would not have been able to stand long against either one of them.

While he was watching, Haldir saw Glorfindel press a new attack, and he began to drive Elladan back slowly, step by step. Suddenly, Elladan used a move Haldir had never seen. Haldir saw the surprise in Glorfindel's eyes as he quickly tried to block the move, but he was not quick enough, and his sword went flying. Elladan's sword was still in motion, swinging toward Glorfindel's neck. To Haldir's surprise, Glorfindel flinched and took a step backward, away from Elladan. Stopping in mid-swing, Elladan brought his sword to a halt an inch away from Glorfindel. "Do you yield?" Elladan asked.

Glorfindel sought Elladan's eyes and exhaled in relief as he nodded. "Yes, I yield. You have proven yourself a worthy opponent today."

Stepping back, Elladan lowered his sword and nodded to Glorfindel. "Thank you." He looked quizzically at the older elf. "Why did you flinch? Did you not trust me to be able to halt my sword?"

Meeting his eyes, Glorfindel spoke his next words softly. "It was not a question of your abilities, but of your motives. It would not be the first time I had found your sword at my neck, if you will recall. The last time, you showed no inclination to stop."

Dropping his eyes from Glorfindel's intent gaze, Elladan sheathed his sword. "Forgive me for making you doubt me. I will be sure that you never have cause to do so again." He turned and walked off the field before Glorfindel could answer.

Haldir had been close enough to hear every word, and walked to stand near Glorfindel as he picked up his sword and placed it carefully back in its scabbard. "What did you mean by that?"

Glorfindel shook his head sadly. "When we attacked the orcs who would have captured the Lady Celebrían, Elladan was caught in a battle rage and nearly did not recognize friend from foe. Were it not for his brother…" Leaving the sentence hanging, he shook his head and walked off the field.

Left alone, Haldir glanced over to where Elrohir and Celeborn had been practicing. To his surprise, they were still sparring as if nothing had happened. The two of them were so intent on their own match that they had not even noticed when Elladan bested Glorfindel, a feat that Haldir would have thought impossible. Celeborn and Elrohir were a blur of motion, a mix of silver and raven colored hair and flashing weapons, moving faster than the eye could easily follow. Haldir watched for many more minutes, transfixed by the deadly grace they both exhibited. For some reason, he was not surprised to see his lord's sword go flying as Celeborn fell to the ground, ending with Elrohir's sword pointing at his heart. He was not near enough to them to hear what words were exchanged, but Elrohir smiled as he put his sword away and reached down a hand to pull his grandfather to his feet. Exchanging nods, they walked off the field in opposite directions. Elrohir approached Haldir.

"That was quite a feat, besting the Lord of the Golden Wood," Haldir said easily as Elrohir stopped in front of him. "Congratulations."

A satisfied smile crossed Elrohir's face before he ducked his head, seeming the young warrior that Haldir had helped train so long ago. "Hannon le. I managed to take him by surprise, or the match would have ended quite differently." He looked around and noticed that they were the only two remaining. "Where are Glorfindel and Elladan? I did not even see how their match ended."

His expression darkened as Haldir told him what he had witnessed; the match and the words afterward. A sigh escaped him, and all merriment left him. He gazed off in the direction in which his brother had disappeared. "If you will excuse me, I must go find my brother." At Haldir's nod of acknowledgment, Elrohir walked away, leaving Haldir the sole occupant of the training field.

Haldir was left wondering what had just happened, how both twins had been able to take their opponents so off guard, and what secret Glorfindel shared with the twins. There was something strange afoot, and he did not like being left in the dark about it.

Beta: Radbooks

A/N: There is a slight deviation from canon in this story. Rather than having Arathorn slain when he was 'riding against the orcs with the sons of Elrond', I have assumed that Aragorn and Gilraen were with him and they were heading to Imladris to live for a time. In the Silmarillion it says 'In that house [the house of Elrond] were harboured the Heirs of Isildur, in childhood and old age, because of the kinship of their blood with Elrond himself…'. The quote continues, but this made me think that Aragorn would have been taken to Imladris for his own protection at some point, so why not when he was two? The twins are still there, acting as escort, but they were not out specifically to hunt orcs. I know that is not Tolkien's version, but I need things to happen a bit differently for this story to work. Therefore, this story can be considered slightly AU.

Chapter Eight

Aragorn smiled as he saw the valley of Imladris come into view around a bend in the path. It had been a long patrol, and well over two months since they had left Imladris behind. Amazingly enough, he and the rest of the patrol had managed to avoid any more serious injuries since the night of the cave-in. There had been a few skirmishes with orcs and a run-in with bandits, but none of them had gotten more than a few scratches and scrapes. In the meantime, Aragorn, or rather, Eradan, had been given many lessons in tracking, fighting, and healing. Elladan and Elrohir had taken him under their wings and declared themselves responsible for his education while they were with him.

It was a situation that Aragorn could not find it in himself to protest. While he knew that things were changing in unpredictable ways, this gave him a great deal of time with the twins, whom he still considered his brothers, as well as the father he had never known. Even if they did not know him for himself, he could not regret the time he had with them. The twins were quickly becoming Eradan's closest friends, and Aragorn began to hope that they would one day see him as a brother. Whenever that hope made itself known, however, he forced himself to bury it, as it was Aragorn they were supposed to see as a brother, not Eradan.

On the way back to Imladris, Baran and Tarcil had returned to a nearby village where they lived with their families when not on patrol. Arathorn and Eradan would rest in Imladris for a few weeks before heading out again. It was likely that the twins would not be joining them on the next patrol, as Arathorn planned to re-assign a few of the patrols and add a few new members to his own patrol. He had told the elven brothers that much as he appreciated their help, he could not see taking them from the many responsibilities they had at home. They had not argued, indicating that they did have things they should be doing in Imladris. While Eradan knew he would miss them, he did hope they would take the time at home to come to know little Aragorn better. He still had hopes that he could set this aspect of history right.

Arathorn glanced over and saw the smile on Eradan's face. "Looking forward to exploring the libraries, are you?"

Eradan chuckled, "Yes, my lord. That, and sleeping in a soft bed again."

Arathorn chuckled as well. "I think that is something we are all looking forward to. Though the patrols are necessary, they rarely provide a comfortable place to rest at night."

A wry smile crossed Eradan's face and he nodded. "So I have noticed."

Elrohir chuckled and looked back over his shoulder from the lead position. "Humans must be very soft creatures if you are complaining about a few nights spent in the woods."

Eradan laughed easily, replying in the same teasing manner. "I don't think the Dúnedain have ever been called soft. We simply do not find comfort in sleeping in the trees as you elves seem to."

Riding behind Eradan and Arathorn, Elladan just shook his head at the conversation. He had to admit that he enjoyed seeing his brother laugh and joke so easily. It had been such a long time since either of them had felt they had reason to laugh. Eradan's arrival in their lives had been an unexpected blessing. A smile crossed his face as he listened to the continuing banter between Elrohir and Eradan. He could admit as they approached the last Homely House that he would be happy to be home for awhile. Spending some time with his father and enjoying the comforts of his home did seem a pleasant prospect.

Reining his horse in as they reached the courtyard near the stables, Elrohir turned to Eradan with a laugh. "Very well, Eradan. You are quite right. I, too, will enjoy sleeping in my own bed once again."

Eradan laughed, but did not reply, having made his point. He dismounted his horse and stretched, loosening the muscles that had stiffened slightly on the long ride. Aragorn certainly appreciated how this younger body did not ache the same way his 'real' body did after a long ride.

They led their horses to the stables and began removing the saddlebags and the saddles their horses wore, before brushing the horses down and seeing that they were fed and stabled well. They each saw to the care of their horse before taking their belongings into the house and seeking their own rooms to freshen up and rest a bit.

"We will see you at the evening meal," Elladan said as they split up in the hallway to find their own rooms. "You remember the way to the dining room?" The last was a slightly teasing question aimed at Eradan.

"Of course I do," Eradan retorted. "I did reside here for several weeks, if you will remember. My mind is not so feeble that two months in the wild would steal that knowledge."

Elladan smiled and nodded his head. "We will see you in two hours, then."

Eradan nodded and ducked into his room, closing the door for some privacy. Gazing into the mirror again, he was struck anew at the unfamiliar face staring back at him. Realizing that the person in the mirror was badly in need of a bath, he grimaced and headed for the bathing chamber. Once he had washed and was dressed in neat, clean clothes, he decided to venture out from his room and wander the paths he so dearly loved.

The halls were quiet as he left his room and made his way outside. He was almost surprised that he had not yet seen Elrond, as the elf lord usually met his sons at the entrance to see for himself that they had returned intact. But he was often busy, and it was not unheard of for him to be in meetings all day long, or busy with paperwork. Eradan was sure he would see Elrond at the meal shortly.

As he wandered along his favorite path through the gardens, he came upon a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches, gazing into the darkness and smoking contentedly on his pipe. Eradan came to a sudden halt at the sight. "Gandalf," he whispered.

The grey head turned toward him at the sound and gazed through the dim evening light. Dark eyes met his, and Eradan felt Gandalf staring at him, taking his measure. "Do I know you?" the wizard asked him mildly.

"No, you do not," Eradan answered. "You and I have never met." He felt a reluctance to step closer, and was tempted to make his apologies for disturbing the wizard and leave him to his peace.

"Then how do you know my name?" Gandalf asked in curiosity. There was something unusual about the young man standing before him. Though he did not know what that was, he did wish to find out what had sparked his curiosity.

Eradan ducked his head briefly. "I have spent many days in conversation with the twin sons of Elrond. They spoke of you often, and when I saw you, I realized that you could be none other."

Gandalf nodded, and looked closer at the figure standing in the shadows. It was certainly a plausible answer, but he felt there was more to it. There had been a sense of familiarity when his name was spoken, as if this person knew him by more than the tales of others. "Would you care to join me? It is a pleasant night, here under the moon and the stars."

Eradan shook his head and made as if to step further back into the shadows. "No, thank you. I did not wish to disturb your thoughts. I will leave you to your peace."

"And what if I do not wish to return to my solitude? Would you do an old man a favor and keep him company?" Gandalf returned smoothly, looking at the younger man hiding in the shadows.

A wry grin twisted Eradan's lips as he watched the Istar. He had seen Gandalf do this many times, pretend to be nothing more than a harmless old man to gain someone's trust. Once that person let down their guard, Gandalf soon had whatever he wanted from that person, whether it be friendship, information, or forcing them to underestimate his abilities. This ploy was one he was well familiar with, but did not know how to avoid. He could not politely excuse himself after Gandalf asked him to stay, but he was rather afraid to spend too much time in the presence of his old friend. If there was anyone who could see that there might be something different about the man they knew as Eradan, it would be Gandalf. However, as he did not see a way to leave at the moment, he nodded and slowly made his way over to sit on the bench beside Gandalf.

With a friendly smile on his face, Gandalf studied the young man as he took a seat on the bench. In the light of the moon, he could better see the man's face. Like most of the Dúnedain, he had dark hair and grey eyes, though these held a hint of another color as well, one he would need better light to fully make out. His face showed his youth quite clearly, though the rounded features of childhood were quickly being replaced by the more angled look of a grown man. There was something hiding in those eyes, however. As he looked deeper, the smile slipped from Gandalf's face without his notice. The eyes staring at him from out of this very young man's face did not seem young. A wealth of experience shone clearly out of the depths of Eradan's eyes. Gandalf did not know how no one else had seen this clear discrepancy between the young man's age and the knowledge in his eyes. A wariness crept into the eyes he watched, and Gandalf realized he had been staring intently for far too long now in his attempt to discover just who this man was. Clearing his throat, he glanced away, back up to the moon. "Have you been to Rivendell often?" he asked, to cover his intense scrutiny.

Eradan glanced away from Gandalf, knowing the wizard had seen far more than he wanted to share. "I have spent a small amount of time here," he answered, his mind furiously working to discover a way to escape this conversation. "I was a member of the patrol that escorted Lord Arathorn and his family here, and was assigned to his patrol afterwards. We remained here for a few weeks between the two patrols. My lord tells me that I will be spending much time here in the future, as he wishes to return here to visit with his family as often as he may. It is quite a beautiful place. I have never seen any other like it."

Gandalf nodded in agreement. "Yes, this place is quite unique. I have seen many places in my travels over the years, but none have quite the same feel as this place. Imladris is a place of peace, of healing and of safety to many." Glancing aside at the young man, Gandalf studied his face as he asked the next question. "And what is this place to you?"

A longing look passed briefly over his face before he turned to face the wizard. "A place of rest, of comfort after a long and difficult journey. It is a place where I may find laughter and hope, and it is a place of learning. Lord Arathorn tells me that I may use the libraries to study any topic I wish while we are here. I have much to learn, it would seem."

Wondering about the momentary look of longing, Gandalf nodded. "Yes, this place is all those things as well." A disconcerted look crossed his face as he thought of something. "I am afraid that for once, you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. You may know my name, but you have yet to tell me yours."

Surprise flashed across the young man's face. "Did I not? Forgive my ill manners, my lord. My name is Eradan, son of Elendur." He bowed his head slightly to make up for the lapse in his manners.

The strongest feeling swept through Gandalf that he was lying. Somehow, Gandalf knew that the name Eradan did not belong to the man in front of him. It was wrong, and yet, it would be easy enough to check. All he had to do was ask either of the twins or Arathorn. Why he would lie about something so simple was beyond Gandalf. And yet the feeling of duality that he had sensed from the beginning told him that maybe it was not so simple a matter as a young man lying about his name. Gandalf was quite sure now that whoever he asked, he would be told that this man's name was Eradan. What was it about him that made the wizard question everything he said? It took a moment of thought for Gandalf to decide if he wanted to allow the young man to think he believed him, or to see if he could rattle the man into admitting something was wrong.

"Is it really?" he asked quietly. "For some reason, the name Eradan does not seem to fit you."

A quiet chuckle came from the man next to him. "I am afraid you would have to discuss that with my parents, as I am not responsible for the name I was given."

Gandalf could not help but chuckle in response, not expecting that answer. He had to hand it to the young man, he was quite skilled at not allowing himself to be thrown off guard. He still felt that there was more to Eradan than met the eye, but he was beginning to like the young man. "And where might I find your parents to discuss this with them?" he asked lightly.

The man sobered quickly and looked off into the night, hesitating before answering. "You will not find them in the circles of this world, I am afraid. My mother passed on many years ago, and my father…he died in the attack on our patrol as we escorted Lord Arathorn's family here. He saved Lady Gilraen and Aragorn, but lost his own life in the process."

"I am sorry," Gandalf said softly, not having meant to bring up painful memories. "But you said you are with Arathorn's patrol now?" He looked again at the young man. Despite the knowledge and experience he saw in his eyes, the body was quite young indeed. It was rare that one so young would have been assigned to ride with the Chieftain of the Dúnedain. When the man nodded, Gandalf reasoned that Arathorn had chosen to keep Eradan near in order to watch over him.

Eradan glanced up at the positions of the stars above them. "Though I do not wish to cut our conversation short, it appears that the time of our meal approaches. As I do not wish to be late, perhaps you will excuse me so that I may return to the house?"

Looking up at the sky, Gandalf admitted that it was nearly time to eat. "I believe I will join you, or did you expect me to stay out here while you and the others ate your meal?"

A faint flush, barely seen in the moonlight, crept up the man's cheeks. "No, of course I did not expect such a thing. I merely meant that we should return to the house if we wish to eat this night."

Laughing, Gandalf stood, followed by Eradan. Gandalf clapped his hand on the man's shoulder as they began walking up the path to the house. It seemed he was able to disconcert the young man, after all.

They did not speak much as they followed the path back to the main house. As they entered the dining room, they saw that many of the other inhabitants of the house were already present, but not yet seated.

Elrond turned as they entered the room. "Ah, Eradan, Mithrandir, I see you have already met. It seems I will not need to make introductions after all." He raised his eyebrow at Mithrandir, asking how they had met.

"Yes, we have," Mithrandir answered. "It would seem we favor the same quiet areas of the gardens."

Smiling at the young man and the wizard, Elrond looked up as Arathorn and his family walked into the room. "It would seem we are all here, now." He gestured for everyone to take their seats at the table.

"Erda!" Eradan looked down at the feel of a small body impacting his legs and smiled at the child clinging to him.

"It is good to see you again, too, my friend," Eradan said as he reached down and pulled young Aragorn into his arms. The child threw his arms around Eradan's neck and started telling him all about his day. Or at least that's what Eradan thought he was saying.

Arathorn looked at the two of them and chuckled. "It would seem my son has missed you, Eradan. If you would care to sit beside him, I feel it would make him quite happy."

Chuckling as he ruffled the boy's hair, Eradan nodded to Arathorn. "I would be quite honored to do so."

At that, they moved over to the table, each finding a place to sit. Aragorn seemed happy sitting between his father and Eradan, chattering away happily to them both. Gilraen sat beside Arathorn, with Elrond at the head of the table, Gandalf to his right, and the twins sitting beside him. Glorfindel and Erestor were not able to join them this night, so it was a fairly small gathering for the meal.

Gandalf watched Eradan throughout the meal without seeming to. It struck him as odd that this young man who until a few months ago had never met an elf, seemed to feel so comfortable among this rather august company. He would laugh and tease both Elladan and Elrohir, and Gandalf was rather shocked when they would respond in kind. It had been a very long time since he had heard either of them sound so lighthearted. Glancing at Elrond, he saw the elf lord also seemed more than a little surprised, a pleased look crossing his face every time he heard one of his sons laugh. Eradan also did not seem to be intimidated by either Arathorn or Elrond, though Gandalf noticed that he occasionally shot an uneasy look his way. For some reason, Eradan was more uncomfortable around him than the others. But if Gandalf did not know that he had only recently been introduced to the elves and the realm of Imladris, he would have said that Eradan had spent his whole life around them, so comfortable did he seem here.

The meal passed in light discussion, as they easily shared stories and happy events. Elrond and Gandalf listened in delight to the lighthearted banter among the twins and Eradan with even Arathorn joining in on occasion. After the meal, Gilraen left to put Aragorn to bed, leaving the others to gather in Elrond's library in order to give their reports to Elrond and take counsel with each other as to what needed to be done next.

Since this was not a formal reporting, they each chose a seat and relaxed back with a glass of wine.

"I take it your patrol was rather uneventful?" Elrond asked, breaking into the companionable silence. He knew that if there had been anything very serious, they would have found him and reported it on their arrival. "I must say that it was rather refreshing to see all of you walk into the dining room under your own power and with presumably no injuries."

"It was not entirely uneventful," Elladan said, staring at Eradan and Arathorn. "There has simply been enough time for certain injuries to heal."

Elrond barely kept himself from sighing as he straightened up in his chair and followed Elladan's glance to the humans in the room. "What happened?" he asked. His healer's eye scanned them both, but could find no sign of injury. Now he wondered what injuries or scars were hidden by their clothing.

"Eradan showed himself a very capable member of our patrol and saved Arathorn's life once again," Elrohir said with a glance at Eradan.

Elrond's eyebrow rose toward his forehead as he looked again at Eradan. The young man's face had flushed slightly at Elrohir's words. "It was not as large a deed as that, my lord."

"I beg to differ," Arathorn said, shaking his head. "Whether or not you believe your actions to be praise-worthy, I do believe that I would not have survived without them, Eradan."

With that, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arathorn filled Elrond and Gandalf in on the cave-in and Eradan's actions. "He has the instincts of a healer," Elladan finished the tale. "Elrohir and I have begun teaching him what he will need to know to be a great healer, and he has proven himself to be an apt pupil. We have never had a need to tell him anything twice."

"Your sons have promised that I would have access to your libraries while I am here, my lord," Eradan said, trying to take the focus off of his abilities and shift them to what he still had to learn. "Is this acceptable to you?"

"Of course it is," Elrond said, studying the young man. "The beginning of wisdom is the willingness to learn. I would take great pleasure in sharing our knowledge with you."

With a short nod of his head, Eradan spoke. "Thank you, my lord." He settled back into his seat, with an inward smile, thinking that he had successfully diverted the attention of the others away from how extraordinary his actions were for such a young man. That thought lasted until he saw that Gandalf's attention was still fixed firmly upon him. The wizard's gaze was intense, seeming as if he were trying to delve into Eradan's very soul.

Eradan forced himself to meet his gaze with an impassive expression, doing all he could to suppress Aragorn and all his experiences and show only the young man that Eradan was.

Gandalf scrutinized the young man, seeing the battle being waged behind those eyes. The battle seemed to be between the two different personas he sensed in this person, and finally, the young man seemed to win out, as the elder, more experienced man was submerged, hidden behind the façade of youth. But Gandalf was now more convinced than ever that it was just that, a façade that he hid behind. What he was hiding, and why, the wizard did not know, could not even begin to guess. He would certainly be keeping a close watch on this young man, though, trying to get to the heart of whatever secrets he held.

"How was the rest of the patrol?" Elrond asked, sensing that Eradan was uncomfortable as the center of attention.

Elladan and Arathorn took turns filling Elrond in on the rest of the events of the patrol, the skirmishes with the orcs and raiders, and reporting on signs they had seen indicating more of the enemy were gathering. As the evening grew late, they spoke of many things of great import. Finally, seeing that there was little more to report, and that those who had arrived today from the patrol were growing weary, Elrond called a halt to the meeting and released them all to find their beds.

Gandalf remained behind when the others left to seek their rest. Elrond glanced over at the wizard as he remained in his chair, pouring himself another glass of wine. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss tonight, old friend?"

Swirling the wine in his glass as he thought of how to answer, Gandalf took a sip before replying. "Tell me what you know of Eradan."

Elrond's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Why do you ask about him?" His voice was mild, but the tone showed that he was quite interested in discovering the reason for Gandalf's question..

"Let us just say that he interests me. He has only ridden with Arathorn twice and each time, ended up saving his life? I would like to know more of this remarkable young man." Gandalf glanced at Elrond over the rim of his wineglass.

Elrond thought for a moment, trying to figure out what it was that Gandalf truly wanted to know about the man. As he thought, he was reminded of his first impressions of Eradan, and thought he could guess what Gandalf sensed in him "Eradan is a remarkable young man, yes. He, as some of the Dúnedain, is gifted with foresight. His gift told him that Arathorn would be in danger on their journey here, and was able to save his Chieftain's life. He has shown himself to be a loyal and resourceful Ranger, despite his young age. What else would you like to know?"

Hesitating, Gandalf tried to decide how much he should say about his suspicions. "Have you sensed anything odd about him, as if he knows more than he should at his age?"

Leaning forward, Elrond stared hard at his old friend. "I have sensed something about him, yes, but attributed it to his gift. Many are the men who have seemed wise beyond their years due to such a gift. Do you think it is something more?"

Waving a hand to divert Elrond's attention, Gandalf did his best to not raise the elf lord's suspicions further. "You are likely correct, my friend. I would like to speak with him further, however and discover what else it is that he has seen." Deciding that he needed to consider further what, if anything to do about Eradan, he changed the subject and they spoke for awhile more. Finally, deciding it was late, Gandalf excused himself and allowed Elrond to seek his own bed. Not feeling overly sleepy, Gandalf returned to the garden for some peace and solitude to think.
-----------------------------------------------------------

Eradan said goodnight to the twins and Arathorn, then retreated to his own room with a sigh of relief. Though they had traveled long that day, Eradan was not tired enough to sleep. The memory of Gandalf's intense scrutiny had him worried. His thoughts whirled furiously as he began pacing the length of the room. He had not expected to meet Gandalf here and now. Eradan worried about what Gandalf had sensed in him. The wizard could see far more than he was comfortable with, even more than Elrond had seen. Eradan did not think he was capable of suppressing Aragorn's life and experiences well enough to hide from Gandalf. If anyone were to see beyond the physical to the soul residing within, it would be the wizard. It was hard enough hiding from Elrond, but he did not think he would be able to keep his secret from Gandalf.

Needing a breath of fresh air to help clear his mind and clarify his thinking, he strode across the room and out to his balcony. Crossing to lean against the railing, Eradan took in a deep breath of the evening air and stared up at the night sky. Gazing at the stars had ever worked to ease his worries and soothe a troubled mind. Taking another breath, Eradan cleared his mind, focusing only on the stars. After several long minutes, his mind wandered back to wonder what he should do about Gandalf. He was sure that his actions had already caught Gandalf's interest, and the wizard would not rest till his curiosity was fully satisfied. Their long friendship told him that there was little chance of misleading or deceiving Gandalf.

'Then why try?' The thought was such an odd one that he stopped short, all other thoughts fleeing his mind. Where had that unusual idea come from? He certainly had no plans to reveal his secret to anyone, for fear of damaging history more than he already had. But a new thought had just come to him. Out of all the people in Arda, Gandalf might be the only one who could possibly have an idea about why he was here, who sent him, and maybe even how to get him home. At the thought of being able to return home, his breath caught and his heart nearly stopped in his chest. How he longed to see Arwen and Eldarion again, to have his brothers know him for who he really was. While he had greatly enjoyed spending time getting to know Arathorn, this was not his home. If there was even a chance that Gandalf could help him, he would have to take the risk of revealing his secret. The Istar might well be one of the very few who would believe him, as well.

Having made the decision to confide in Gandalf, Eradan felt his burden lift and his agitated spirit settle. Now he just needed to figure out the best place and time to start the discussion. This was certainly one for which he wanted no other witnesses. As he was pondering how to approach his old friend, he caught a faint hint of pipeweed on a gust of wind. A smile crossed his face. The only current residents of Imladris who would even consider using pipeweed were the Dúnedain, namely he and Arathorn, and the wizard. Gandalf must have decided to return to the gardens rather than retire to his room for the night. Deciding that there was no better time than the present to approach this topic, and fearing that he would change his mind given time to rethink the situation, he decided to seek out the wizard tonight.

As he did not wish to disturb the other residents of the house, he briefly considered leaving his room by way of the sturdy tree just beyond his balcony, sneaking out of the house as he had done when he was younger. However, while that had been a common behavior of Aragorn's, it was not something that Eradan would do, so he decided to leave the more conventional way…by the door. Being careful to make as little noise as possible, he left his room and made his way outside to the gardens and easily found his way back to the nearly hidden bench nestled into a little used crook of the path in the gardens. It was here that he had encountered Gandalf earlier in the evening, and his guess was proven correct as he spied the first wisp of smoke drifting on the night breeze.

-----------------------------

Alone in the peace of the garden, Gandalf let his mind wander, roaming where it would, and examining thoughts of Eradan as they came to him. There was something very odd about the young man, and he was determined to find out exactly what that was. How long he sat there, mulling over the mystery that surrounded Eradan, he did not know. Eventually, he sensed a presence, and realized with some surprise that the object of his speculation had once again found him.

"It's rather late for you to be out here, is it not?" Gandalf asked, no trace of his surprise in his voice. "Should you not be sleeping?"

Walking out of the shadows to come stand before him, Eradan looked down at the wizard as he sat on his bench. There was no surprise on his face that Gandalf had known he was there. "I wished to speak with you, and decided that as long as we were both awake, I may as well do it now."

"And how did you know that I was awake and would be here?" Gandalf asked, quirking an eyebrow upward.

A smile curved Eradan's lips. "I smelled the pipeweed in the air and knew it could be no elf hiding here in the garden."

Gandalf nodded and hid a small smile. "So you figured you'd find me here?"

"I did, didn't I?" There was a knowing look on the young man's face.

Gesturing to the seat beside him, Gandalf watched as the man sat down and took a deep breath. Gandalf had the sense that Eradan was trying to find the courage to say something or ask a question. Deciding to help him along, Gandalf asked the first questions. "Why did you wish to speak with me? I had the sense earlier this evening that I made you rather uncomfortable."

Eradan looked down for a moment, and when he looked back up, Gandalf saw that there was no longer a conflict behind those eyes. The knowledge and experience of a lifetime shone out of the eyes looking back at him. There was now no trace of the youth in the man. Even the way he held himself spoke of a weight of years, an ease and confidence in himself that very few twenty year old men had. "I was uncomfortable only because I knew you had seen far more than I wished to share," Eradan said, meeting and holding Gandalf's eyes confidently.

"And you have chosen to share this now?" Gandalf asked, guessing at the reason the man had sought him out and no longer seemed to be hiding from him.

"I have," Eradan answered. "I will tell you what you wish to know about me, but I will ask that you allow me to tell you all I intend to say before you ask anything. You may be tempted to discount my words, but I swear it now that all I tell you is the absolute truth."

"Why might I want to discount your words?" Gandalf asked, wondering what this man intended to tell him.

"Because if I heard the tale I am about to tell you, I might wonder about the sanity of the person speaking. However, I hope that whatever you have sensed about me will help you to see the truth of my words."

"All your words have done to this point is make me very curious about what you intend to tell me," Gandalf said wryly. "You will have to follow up that preface with something quite amazing indeed to live up to all you have said."

"I do not doubt that my tale will surprise you," Eradan said, standing up and walking a few paces away from the bench. Now that it had come to it, he was unsure how to start, and began to wonder if this was a good idea after all. Well, there was nothing to do for it now. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to face Gandalf. Locking eyes with the wizard, he began his tale. "When you mentioned that the name Eradan did not seem to fit me, you were correct. My name is not Eradan. My true name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur." Seeing Gandalf's eyes widen in sudden shock at that, Aragorn continued. "And this is not my time." Pausing to gauge Gandalf's reaction, Aragorn felt a grin try to find its way onto his face. Rarely had he seen the wizard so flummoxed.

It was near impossible for Gandalf to believe what he had just heard. Now he began to see why Eradan had said he would not be believed. Gandalf's first thought was that he was listening to the ravings of a madman. How could this man be Aragorn, when he had seen two-year-old Aragorn running around earlier. Searching the man's face, he saw the humor in those eyes at seeing his reaction. Deciding to hear more of the man's story before judging it one way or another, he nodded at Eradan. "I think you had best continue your story."

Aragorn nodded, letting the humor of the moment bleed away. "Very well." Knowing this would be a long story, he returned to sit beside Gandalf. "I know you have sensed something different about me. I have seen your curiosity and felt your stares from across the room. We have been friends for too long for me not to know when you have taken an interest in someone." At Gandalf's raised eyebrow, Aragorn nodded. "You first met a young Ranger by the name of Aragorn when he was twenty-five. Or at least, that was the first time I was old enough to remember meeting you. When I left my own time, I was a little older than one hundred years. Upon awakening here, I found myself sharing a body with a young Ranger by the name of Eradan. I have access to his memories, so I have been able to convince others that I am Eradan, but I cannot speak with him, or even truly sense him."

"How are you sharing his body?" Gandalf asked, confused by nearly everything he had heard so far.

"I know not," Aragorn said, shaking his head and looking away. His face was serious when he looked back at the Istar. "I feel I must now go back into my history to help you understand what little I know of how I arrived here. When I was two years of age, and traveling here with my parents, Arathorn was killed by an orc arrow to the eye." He nodded as recognition crossed Gandalf's face. "Upon his death, I and my mother came to live here in Imladris. I was raised as a son of Elrond, and grew up with Elladan and Elrohir as my brothers. To protect me and keep my existence from our enemies, Elrond named me Estel and kept my identity from all, even me. From the time I was two to the time I was twenty, I knew only Elrond as my father. Arathorn was only a name to me, the last Chieftain of the Dúnedain. My identity was revealed to me shortly after I turned twenty, but I still knew very little of my father."

Aragorn sighed heavily and rubbed his hands briskly over his upper arms as if chilled, then took a deep breath and continued his tale by jumping forward in time. "In my own time, I had been talking with my brothers, celebrating the birth of my first born son. In this discussion, I wished that I had been given the chance to know my own father. After falling asleep that night, I awoke to find myself here the day that Arathorn was killed in my history. Though I did not fully understand how I had gotten here, I knew I had been given the chance to save Arathorn. I knew that he would die in that battle if I did nothing, so remained close to him throughout the fight. In the end, the only way I could see to save his life was to take the arrow myself, and that is what I did. I could not stand by and let him die, not again."

Gandalf's face was grave as he stared at the man beside him. Oddly enough, he no longer thought of him as a young man. All he had heard so far would serve to explain the age and wisdom he had sensed that was so out of place in a man only twenty years of age. But did he believe anything he had heard? "If you are truly from the future, then you surely understand that changing anything now will change all that comes after this time."

Aragorn sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the path. "I know that all too well. I have already seen changes beyond the fact that Arathorn lives. And I do not know how those changes will affect history."

"What other changes have you seen?" Gandalf asked him, worriedly.

"I know one thing that has already changed, in the few short months I have been here. Estel does not exist, and Elrond and the twins are content to leave Aragorn's care to Gilraen and Arathorn, when he is here. It seems that Aragorn will be raised simply as another in a long line of Isildur's heirs to be fostered here. I do not know how that will change the future, but I cannot imagine having grown up without Elrond as my father and 'Dan and 'Ro as my brothers. They have been a constant and comforting presence in my life."

Thinking over his words, Gandalf was worried over what changes would occur. History was not something that should be altered, for each small change rippled outward, touching many other events, causing larger and larger changes, as a pebble dropped in a small pool sent ever-widening ripples outward. Knowing that a large piece of the story had been left out, he leaned forward as well, trying to peer into the man's eyes. "How did you get here? You have yet to speak of that."

Sighing, Aragorn sat back again. "When I fell asleep, I found myself floating in darkness, alone. A voice spoke to me out of the darkness." Aragorn proceeded to tell Gandalf all that had passed between he and the bodiless voice. "It told me that I had no choice about whether or not to come here, or about taking over Eradan's body. It gave no reasons for my journey here, and no hints as to whether I would be allowed to return to my own time. Part of my reason for telling you this is the hope that you can help me go home again." Aragorn ran a hand through his hair and sighed sadly. "I have a life in my own time that I wish to return to, a wife and child, friends and responsibilities. I do not belong here, and I wish to leave before I cause any other changes to history. It is far beyond the ability of the elves to send me back to my time, but I had hoped that perhaps it was within the abilities of the Maiar."

Starting at the word, Gandalf stared at Aragorn. Very few knew who the Istari truly were. Did Aragorn know, or was he merely guessing, hoping to strike a chord?

Aragorn tilted his head slightly. "As I said, we have been friends for a very long time, Gandalf, and I was raised here in Imladris. I have taken counsel many a time with the wise and listened to what was said, and what was left unsaid. There have been many wondrous things I have seen you do, though I cannot tell you of them now. Your identity is well known to me."

At this point, Gandalf stood abruptly and began pacing back and forth in front of the bench, thinking furiously. This conversation had drastically altered everything he thought he knew. Travel through time was not allowed, as far as he knew. How could such a thing have happened? Who could be behind it? Was this a device of the enemy, or was there another reason that Aragorn was sent to this time and place? For he now believed every word this man, Aragorn, had told him. Knowing when someone was lying was a gift of Gandalf's, being able to see into their hearts and minds, and he knew that Aragorn's story was true. However, even Aragorn did not know who had sent him here or why.

"I will need to take counsel with others about this," he mused quietly to himself. This situation was beyond his knowledge.

"No!" Aragorn nearly panicked at the thought. He knew, far too well, that Saruman could not be given this information. And Gandalf did not distrust Saruman yet, not nearly enough, anyway. When the wizard turned to face him with a quizzical expression, Aragorn took a deep breath and continued in a calmer tone. "No, please Gandalf. I have told this tale to only you, and I wish no others to know. I know you would wish to take counsel with others among the wise, but I ask you now to keep this secret to yourself. The elves do not have the power to help me, so there is no need to confer with Elrond or Galadriel. You are the only one of the Istari that I know well enough to trust, so I would wish you not to tell Radagast, Saruman, or any of the others."

Gandalf narrowed his eyes as he stared at Aragorn. "Saruman is the head of our order and is the wisest and most powerful of us. If anyone now on Arda will be able to help you, it would be he."

Aragorn swallowed and proceeded carefully, trying not to give anything away. "I still do not wish you to confer with him, or anyone else who now lives on Arda." Aragorn did not know if it were possible for Gandalf to confer with the Valar or other Maiar who had no physical form on Arda, but he phrased his request to let Gandalf know that he would not mind him informing them, if it were at all possible.

Hearing something in Aragorn's voice that convinced him to abide by his request, Gandalf nodded. "Very well." With Aragorn's knowledge of future events, Gandalf was sure he had reasons for making his request. Not wanting to push Aragorn to reveal information he was not willing to offer, he would have to listen to him, at least for now. Gandalf resumed pacing, though his thoughts were less frantic now, he was simply mulling over his options, wondering how best to proceed. Now that he had been denied the counsel of those upon Arda, Gandalf was left with few options. There would be no texts he could use to research this, as he was quite sure this was the first time in the history of Arda that one had been sent back into the past and given the chance to change the future.

Making up his mind, he turned back to Aragorn. "I need to seek answers, for I have none myself. I will abide by your request and not seek counsel with those who now live on Arda. But I do not have the answers you seek, so I must leave now and do what I may to find them. I will leave tonight and return as soon as I can. You will be here for several weeks, I believe, before your patrol moves out again?"

Aragorn nodded. "Yes, we will remain here for a time to rest. I had hoped you would have the answers I seek, but if you must leave to find them, I understand. I trust you enough to know that my secret is safe in your hands. Do you intend to speak to Elrond and make some excuse for your abrupt departure?"

"No," Gandalf said, shaking his head. "He does not expect me to account for my comings and goings to him." He stared at Aragorn for a long moment. "Though I find I cannot explain how your story could possibly be true, I do believe you. You do not have the demeanor of either a twenty-year-old man, or a madman. If you wish to keep your secret from the others, you must be careful. Elrond, especially, is quite skilled at seeing into the hearts and minds of men."

A wry smile crossed Aragorn's face. "Believe me, I am well aware of this. When I was growing up, I found it quite impossible to hide anything from Ada. It has been the most difficult hiding this from him. I hate deceiving those I love, but they would not believe this, and I do not think I could tell them any of this. They are all much more closely affected by any changes that are being made. I am doing my best to prod history into happening the way it did before, without Arathorn dying," he said firmly, seeing Gandalf open his mouth and guessing what point he was going to make. "I have encouraged the twins to spend more time in Imladris with little Aragorn, as they did after I was brought here. He will need their support through the coming years, and I would hope that they can come to see him as a brother."

Gandalf shook his head slightly. "I would not expect that they would form the same relationship with him that they formed with you. Things have changed." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Though I do see that they have taken quite nicely to Eradan. I saw them laugh and joke tonight in a way that I have not seen in far too long. You do seem to know how to reach them when no other can. Perhaps you will yet be able to convince them to do as you wish. But keep in mind that those here see you as Eradan, not as a loved brother or son. You must be careful in how you treat them."

"I have been careful to allow them to see only Eradan," Aragorn allowed. "But I find I cannot treat them as strangers. Within my guise as Eradan, I have begun to find a place in their hearts. It may not be as it was before, but I cannot distance myself from them, so please do not ask such a thing."

A sigh escaped Gandalf as he looked at the pleading look in Aragorn's eyes. "Very well, I will not ask that. It may be better for you to stay close to them anyway and help nudge history along the proper route if you find it diverging too drastically." He was unsure of what Arathorn's continued existence would do to history, but he could not see asking any man to simply allow his father to die so that history would run true. Nodding to Aragorn, Gandalf gathered up his pipe and swept away down the path to the house. He needed to retrieve a few items before leaving Imladris.

Aragorn remained on the bench, watching the wizard stride away. After a while, he stood and made his way back to the house, letting himself in and walking silently back to his room, lost in thought. It was a long time before he was able to fall asleep that night.

The next morning, Eradan overslept and missed the morning meal. When he finally made his way downstairs, he headed directly for the kitchens, hoping to convince the cook to let him take some bread and cheese to break his fast. As he passed the door to one of the libraries, Elrohir called out to him.

"Eradan! We missed you at the morning meal. Are you feeling well?" Elrohir stood from his chair and approached the young man, holding the book he had been reading.

"I am well," Eradan reassured him. "I merely overslept. I found a book in the library yesterday, and stayed up many hours into the night, reading. I did not realize how late it was when I finally stopped."

Elrohir laughed. "I know we said you could use the libraries, but Eradan, you do not need to read all the books in a single visit."

Chuckling as well, Eradan ducked his head a little sheepishly. "Very well, I will attempt to pace myself and read less at night." He made no promises not to read at night, however, only to do less of it. Gesturing toward the kitchen, he asked if Elrohir would like to accompany him in his quest to find something to eat.

Placing his book down on a table in the library, Elrohir joined him as he made his way down to the kitchens. "You were not the only one missing from the table this morning," Elrohir said as they walked.

"I was not?" Eradan asked noncommittally.

Shaking his head, Elrohir commented, "No, Mithrandir was also not present. It appears that he left sometime in the night. No one has seen him this morning."

"Is that a matter for concern?" Eradan asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

Waving his hand in the air, Elrohir replied lightly. "No. Mithrandir is well known for coming and going unexpectedly and keeping his own counsel. You will learn this as you get to know him."

"If you are sure…" Eradan let his voice trail off. At Elrohir's nod, Eradan relaxed. "Very well, then. I will trust your judgment on this matter." Once they reached the kitchen, Elrohir helped him sweet-talk the cooks out of some of the sweets they were preparing for a later meal as well as the bread and cheese that Eradan had originally thought to ask for. After eating, they went back to the library and spent much of the remainder of the day relaxing and reading.

Over the next few days, Eradan started his lessons with Elrond in healing, worked with Arathorn and the twins on the sparring and archery field, and spent a great deal of time reading. Though he did not allow it to show, Eradan was beginning to get quite anxious as he waited for Gandalf's return and the answer as to whether or not he would be able to go home.

Finally, after nearly a week, Eradan spotted Gandalf in the hallway as he was headed to the practice field. Stopping in his tracks, Eradan stared at Gandalf, hope in his eyes. The Grey Wizard shook his head to indicate that they could not speak here. "I do enjoy my evening walks in the garden, don't you, my boy?"

"Yes, I do," Eradan said, nodding. "And if you will excuse me, I do not wish to keep the sons of Elrond waiting."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Gandalf continued on his way, leaving Eradan to make his way to the training field.

That evening, after the meal, Eradan ventured out of the house and into the gardens, easily finding his way back to the hidden nook where he had previously met with the wizard. As he expected, he found Gandalf sitting quietly on the bench, smoking his pipe and gazing at the stars.

"Mithrandir," he said, taking the seat next to the Istar.

"Aragorn," the wizard said quietly.

Glancing over, Aragorn let Eradan drop by the wayside and became more fully himself. "You have been gone several days. Have you found an answer to my request?"

Inhaling on his pipe and letting the smoke drift out in a long thin stream, Gandalf was silent for several minutes. He finally spoke, his voice soft in the darkness. "I took counsel with those greater than I, and they are aware of your situation. We spoke for many hours, and the only answer I have for you is that they cannot send you home."

Aragorn, drew in a sharp breath, feeling the answer strike like a blow to his stomach. "Cannot or will not?" he asked calmly, though he felt anything but calm.

"It makes no difference, the answer is the same," Gandalf responded. "I am sorry, Aragorn. I will offer my friendship, in respect for the friendship you say we shared in your time. If I can help you in any way in this life, I will, but it is not within my power to give you what you most desire."

Aragorn closed his eyes and let his head hang down to his chest, feeling like the very breath had been stolen from his body. It was many long minutes before he could manage to speak again. "What am I to do now? Am I to live out the rest of Eradan's life and watch my life and my family from the outside? Watch young Aragorn grow up and live my life, finding the woman I love and taking her for his own? I do not think I can stand by and watch this all happen from the outside, Gandalf. I do not think I am strong enough for that."

Gandalf closed his eyes at the note of despair in the man's voice. Reaching out, he laid a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "The only advice I have is to try to live the life you have been given, and do not dwell on what you do not have. In this life you have Arathorn, the father you never knew. You have the sons of Elrond, who are becoming great friends, if not the brothers you knew. And you have me. Though I cannot always be by your side, you can confide in me whatever you wish. You do have one friend in this world who knows you for who you really are."

Taking a deep breath, Aragorn slowly raised his head. "I do appreciate your friendship and your support, Gandalf. But there are many things that I cannot reveal to anyone, not even to you. I have already altered history with my actions, I will not risk any further changes simply because I wish to share my burden. I accept your friendship, but there are many details of my life that I will never be able to share with you." Straightening his back, he shrugged Gandalf's hand off his shoulder and stood. "If you will excuse me, I believe I need time alone. I would not be very good company this evening. You will remain for a few more days, at least?"

Nodding in understanding, Gandalf replied, "Yes, I will stay for at least a week or two. I will be here if you wish to talk again."

With a quick nod of his head, Aragorn spun on his heel and strode quickly to the solitude of his room.

Over the next few days, Eradan was much quieter than usual, not joking with the twins as he had been accustomed to doing, or showing much enthusiasm for his studies. He spent a great deal of time in the company of the wizard, and whenever anyone would ask Gandalf if he knew what was bothering Eradan, he would tell them that the young man was grieving, and to give him time. Thinking that Eradan was grieving for his father now that he did not have his recovery or a patrol to concentrate on, they let him be, to grieve in his own way.

Beta: Radbooks

Rating: PG for some battle scenes and angst. Some later chapters might warrant a higher rating.

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

Summary: If you had the chance to travel back into your past and prevent a tragedy, to save a loved one, would you do it? What else would change as a result? Aragorn, Elladan and Elrohir are given that chance. What will they change, and how will that affect the history of Middle-earth?

Chapter Nine

After wandering his home for several hours, thinking about the sparring matches he had witnessed between Elrohir and Celeborn and Elladan and Glorfindel, Haldir was more convinced than ever that there was something very odd happening with the twins. Even as skilled as they were with swords, they should not have been able to defeat Celeborn and Glorfindel. He thought back to the move that Elladan had used in his match against Glorfindel. It was one he had never seen anyone use before, and did not know where Elladan would have learned it. And Elrohir had said that he had taken Celeborn by surprise in their match, or he may well have lost. It was likely that he had also used a move that Celeborn had never seen and would not have known to counter.

Haldir's brow furrowed as he thought about the reactions of Celeborn and Glorfindel to the unexpected end of the matches. Glorfindel had been surprised by the move, and stepped back from Elladan as if he expected Elladan to press the attack even after he had disarmed his opponent. No, that wasn't quite right, Haldir mused. Glorfindel had said that he had seen Elladan in the midst of a battle rage and that he had almost attacked the elder elf as if he were the enemy. From his reaction, it would seem that he no longer fully trusted Elladan. But would one moment in the heat of battle be enough to destroy a trust that had developed over many centuries? There had to be something else that he was unaware of, something else that Glorfindel knew about Elladan.

Celeborn had not reacted so strongly to his defeat. He had laughed and congratulated Elrohir on his match before leaving. Did this mean that Glorfindel knew something Celeborn did not, or the other way around? Of course, Celeborn was Elladan and Elrohir's grandfather. It would take a lot for him to lose trust in them. But then again, he had never thought that Glorfindel would lose trust in the twins, either.

Haldir sighed at the thoughts swirling around in his head. He would never gain answers to his myriad questions if he did not seek out someone who could give him those answers. But whom should he approach? It was obvious to him that Glorfindel knew far more than he was telling, but trying to get answers out of the legendary balrog-slayer could often be an exercise in futility. Deciding that speaking to Celeborn would be the best choice, Haldir left the secluded glade he had found himself in and headed off to seek out his commander.

---------------------------------------------------

Elrohir did not have any difficulty catching up with his brother after leaving the sparring field. Elladan had not gone far, simply veering off the main path and down a small incline to take a seat on a fallen log near a small stream. He did not look up as Elrohir joined him on the log. They sat in silence for a long time before Elrohir spoke.

"Haldir told me how your match with Glorfindel ended." Elrohir let the words hang between them, not following them up with an invitation to talk. Elladan would speak only when and if he chose.

Staring at the shallow stream as it gurgled over the rocks and pebbles in its path, Elladan sighed deeply. Turning slightly to meet his brother's gaze, he shook his head sadly. "Glorfindel does not trust me any longer. I believe he actually thought I would hurt him today. How could he believe that either of us would do such a thing?"

His expression serious, Elrohir attempted to ease Elladan's distress. "Glorfindel has done remarkably well, I think. This could hardly be an easy thing for him."

Elladan's eyebrows rose toward his hairline as he stared at his brother in disbelief. "Not easy for him? I think that this whole situation is much harder for us."

Waving his hand slightly to acknowledge his brother's point, Elrohir continued. "True. However, you should consider what he must think about all of this. We show up in the library and he overhears us speaking of things that have not yet happened as if they were history. I think we should consider ourselves lucky that he did not immediately turn us over to Ada and leave the whole mess in his lap. We did not help his trust in us when we threatened to do whatever we must in order to save Naneth."

"You mean when I threatened him," Elladan interrupted, a chagrined expression on his face.

Tilting his head toward his brother, Elrohir continued. "You must admit that he did not exactly see us at our best those first few days. We were far too concerned with saving Nana to take the time to reassure him that we were not a threat to Imladris or our family. Then when we found the orcs…" His voice trailed off as he remembered that day not so long ago. "It was a side of us that he had never seen before, and it surely made him question even more how much we had changed. And through all of this, he has had to keep a secret of rather monumental proportions."

Elladan nodded and looked back at the stream. "You do have a point. How do we regain his trust?"

"We must spend more time with him, much as he may dread the thought." A chuckle escaped Elladan at Elrohir's comment. "Once he learns more of us and sees what has changed and what has not, he should become more comfortable with us."

Tilting his head and regarding his brother once more, Elladan asked, "Do you truly think that will work?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Elrohir replied, "We will not know if we do not try." Standing up, he gestured for Elladan to join him. "Now come. Let us go find Glorfindel and become as his shadow."

Shaking his head a little ruefully, Elladan also stood. "We want him to trust us again, 'Ro, not kill us. We may not wish to shadow him that closely."

Rolling his eyes at his brother, Elrohir turned and started back up the bank. Stopping briefly, he looked back over his shoulder at his twin. "Would you like to join me?"

Mumbling under his breath about this not being such a good idea, Elladan hurried to catch up to his brother as they sought out Glorfindel.

-----------------------------------

Haldir found his lord in his office, going over a stack of papers. That was one aspect of Celeborn's duties that he certainly would not wish for himself. Standing in the doorway of the office, Haldir waited until Celeborn finished what he was doing and looked up to acknowledge him. Gesturing for Haldir to join him in the room, Celeborn put his papers aside and gave the March Warden his full attention.

Sensing Haldir's unease, Celeborn gestured for him to sit. "Is there something you wish to discuss with me? This is obviously not a formal report as you have not been on patrol for several weeks."

Nodding, Haldir began speaking. "I do have something I wish to discuss. It concerns Elladan and Elrohir."

Closing his eyes briefly and giving a long-suffering sigh, Celeborn asked, "What have they done now?"

"Nothing," Haldir hastened to assure him. He did not wish to get the twins into trouble when they had done nothing. "They have done nothing to me, nor any other residents of the wood. That is not what I wished to discuss. Or rather, that is only part of what I wished to discuss."

Celeborn's brow furrowed in confusion. "You wish to discuss that they have done nothing?"

"Yes, and no," Haldir said hesitantly. He was unsure how to say what he wished.

"Please speak plainly," Celeborn said. "I do not have the time for word games."

"Of course," Haldir said, bowing his head in deference. "I was observing your sparring match earlier with Elrohir and was quite surprised that he was able to defeat you."

"He is a skilled warrior," Celeborn answered, still quite confused as to where this conversation was heading. "He and his brother are quite capable of defeating their opponents on the field."

"True, but when those opponents are you and Glorfindel?" Haldir asked. "Did you not notice that their fighting styles have changed since last you sparred with them? I was watching, and they seemed much more skilled than last I witnessed."

"They have been fighting to defend their realm for a full century since last you and I saw them, Haldir. Would it not make sense that they have grown in their abilities?"

Haldir frowned, wondering if Celeborn were being deliberately obtuse. "Very well, you are correct that you and I have not seen them fight in many years and it could be this that allowed Elrohir to take you by surprise and defeat you. But Glorfindel has been with them, training them and fighting alongside them. He would not have been taken off guard by either of them, would he?" Haldir proceeded to describe what he had seen of Elladan and Glorfindel's match, as Celeborn had been too involved with his own match to see it. He made sure to tell him about the comments Glorfindel had made following the match.

"Glorfindel flinched?" Celeborn asked in amazement. "In all my life I have never seen such a thing. He actually stepped back from Elladan?"

"Yes, my lord." Haldir shook his head as he remembered his conversation with Celebrían. "Your grandsons have not seemed as themselves on this visit. I have noticed it, your daughter has noticed it, and so, it would seem, has Glorfindel."

Celeborn thought for a long moment before speaking again. "The changes in them have been apparent for anyone who cares to look. I cannot say that I understand the extent of the changes, though Galadriel seems to understand more. My grandsons, as you know, have recently begun having visions. These visions are not like those of my lady wife or those of their father. As it has been explained to me, they do not simply see events occur, they feel as if they have lived them. Though I was told no details, I know that one of these visions involved the capture and torment of my daughter. In this vision, it was they who rescued her from the orc den. Tell me, Haldir, how do you think they would have reacted upon seeing their mother in such pain?" He fell silent for a moment, picturing the scene, before shaking his head to drive away the thought of his daughter in such a situation.

Haldir held silent, knowing how difficult it must be for Celeborn to even discuss such an event, whether or not it had actually happened.

"And from what I have been told, they have had visions of events several centuries in the future. Whether or not it happened in actuality, my grandsons have experienced centuries of a life we have not. Does it not make sense that they would be changed by these experiences?"

Haldir nodded slowly. "Yes, my lord, I understand the reasons for the changes we have seen in them. Celebrían is worried for them, and I had hoped there was something we could do to help them return to the ellyn that we know."

A sigh escaped Celeborn as he thought about his grandsons. "All that we can do is accept them as they are, changes and all. We cannot try to force them to become people they no longer are."

Closing his eyes, Haldir lowered his head. He had hoped for a different answer, one that would help bring back the playful ellyn they all knew. Though he often complained about being the victim of their more playful side, he had never realized just how much he would miss seeing them taking such joy in life until he had seen them on this visit. But how much worse would it be for their family, Lady Celebrían, Lady Galadriel and the elf in front of him, Lord Celeborn? "You are correct, of course," Haldir said, opening his eyes and standing, hoping to leave without causing his lord any further pain caused by speculating over the changes in his grandsons. "I merely miss seeing the more playful aspects of their personalities."

Celeborn stood as well. "I think that is something we have all missed this visit, though you are the last I would have expected to voice such a sentiment." A raised eyebrow brought a faint flush to Haldir's face.

"I do not miss their pranks, but I do miss hearing genuine laughter from them," Haldir explained.

A sober look chased away the mirth on Celeborn's face. "As have we all."

With that, Haldir bowed to his lord, then turned and left the office. Celeborn stared after him for a long moment before leaving to seek out his wife.

--------------------------------------------------------

Glorfindel had retreated to his chambers upon leaving the sparring field, though he did not like to think of it as a retreat. He merely had things to consider and did not wish for company. Reclining on his bed with a book in hand, he was not even seeing the words before him. His mind was back on his match with Elladan. Though he had known that the twins were great warriors, skilled with swords, he had not fully realized how the extra few centuries of practice had affected their abilities. They were very good, he had to admit, better than most elves, in his experience. It had taken him quite by surprise when Elladan had used a move he had never seen, and he had been shocked at the thought that Elladan had disarmed him. But even with that shock, he should never have backed away from the younger elf. The look of hurt that had flashed across Elladan's face when he had learned that Glorfindel did not trust him enough to stop his sword in time would be forever burned into Glorfindel's memory.

Had he overreacted? Yes, during that battle in the cave, he had thought that Elladan would engage him in battle, trying to kill him as he had all of the orcs within. But that was a case of battle lust getting the better of him. On the practice field, Elladan was always very controlled and measured in his actions. As one of his trainers, Glorfindel knew this better than any other. Elladan had always exercised the greatest degree of control over his movements. Never a stroke wasted or ill-thought out, Elladan had always been one of his best students. So why had he reacted as he had when Elladan had disarmed him?

Glorfindel thought back to that moment and tried to determine why he had reacted as he had. The surge of anger that he felt upon further reflection surprised him. Why should he have been angry that Elladan defeated him? It was rare, but it would hardly be the first time he had been defeated in a sparring match, and he was not so vain as to think that he was unbeatable. No, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was not the match that made him angry, but Elladan himself. But why should that be so? Elladan had done nothing against Glorfindel, or against any under Glorfindel's protection.

'Except to Elladan,' the thought drifted through his mind. It was such a surprising one that he felt he had to further explore it. As he delved deeper into his thoughts, he came to the surprising realization that he was angry at Elladan and Elrohir for replacing the twins of this time. In a way, he was grieving the disappearance of the Elladan and Elrohir he knew, and blaming the twins who were here now as if they had killed the others. Sitting up on his bed, he leaned his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. Was he truly thinking such irrational thoughts? It was not the fault of Elladan and Elrohir that they were here now. 'As far as you know,' that voice again interjected. Shaking his head to dislodge that annoying voice, he countered it as best he could. He had seen the depth of pain in the eyes of the 'current' twins. Though they had been greatly relieved to have the chance to save Celebrían, they were as confused as he was as to why they were here. It was clear to him that they wanted to return home, to the time they knew, and the lives they now led. The fear of irrevocably changing history had taken much of the joy they should have felt at the chance to re-live this part of their lives with their mother.

He knew that Elladan and Elrohir were not at fault, but he could not help grieving the loss of the twins that had been here such a short time ago. They had been much more light-hearted than those who had taken their places, and a brief wish that these had not appeared flitted through his mind. As quickly as that thought occurred, he knew he could not think that. If the 'new' twins, for lack of a better word, had not appeared when they had, then Celebrían would have been taken by orcs and have shortly ended up leaving these lands. At that point, the twins that he knew would have disappeared anyway, to be replaced by Dehlfalhen and Glamferaen, the twin warriors whose hearts and fëar were darkened by their desire to rid the world of orcs and glory in the kill. And the house of Elrond would have been lost for many years to their grief and pain. He could not have wished for that, no matter what.

When he thought about it, he would much rather be dealing with the twins who were here now. At least they had found their way back from such darkness, though it had left a permanent mark upon them. Now, if only he could bring himself to trust them again…

His musings were interrupted as the objects of his thoughts appeared in the doorway. Glorfindel sat up straight on his bed and placed his feet on the floor, looking warily between the two. They had apparently not taken the time to stop by their own rooms as they still wore the swords they had worn on the practice field. It was the serious expressions on their faces that made him regard them so warily. That look was never a good omen. "What may I do for you?" he asked.

Elladan glanced sideways at Elrohir and the younger twin shrugged, indicating that Elladan should be the one to speak. "We merely wish to speak with you," Elladan said. "About what happened on the practice field."

Glorfindel opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to apologize for the way he had treated Elladan, when the elder twin held up a hand to halt his words.

"Please, Glorfindel, let us say what we must before you speak." Glorfindel nodded, allowing them to say whatever it was that they had come to say. "We understand why you may not trust us as you once did. For you, it must be as if we are strangers who have yet to earn your trust." Glorfindel heard the pain in Elladan's voice as he spoke, though he was sure the younger elf was working to keep his voice even, giving away nothing. "But there has never been a time in our lives that we have not had your complete trust." A wry smile crossed Elladan's face. "Even when you were berating us for being idiots, or trying to convince us that the path we had chosen would eventually destroy us, you still trusted us. We do not like losing that trust."

Elrohir spoke up as Elladan fell silent, something Glorfindel had seen many times in his life, how they sometimes acted in concert as one. "We want to show you that we are still trustworthy," Elrohir said. "Though there have been changes, we are still the ellyn you have always known. You trained us how to hold our first swords, taught us how to fight, and as we grew, you became the captain whose orders we followed on numerous patrols."

"We are the same elflings you swore to protect from the moment you knew of our existence," Elladan continued smoothly. "The same ones you held on your knees and told stories to so long ago, the ones you played games with, and the ones who learned some of their best pranks from you and Erestor."

Elrohir's face lit with a grin as he thought over some of those pranks. "You have protected us throughout our lives, Glorfindel, from foul creatures like orcs, goblins and trolls. Even the occasional fearsome kitten." He could not help the laugh that escaped him at the memory.

Laughter burst from Elladan at the memory. "I had nearly forgotten that! Trust you to remember such a thing."

A smile crossed Glorfindel's face as well as he remembered the incident of which the twins spoke. They had been only ten summers, still small children, but already very good at finding trouble. He had entered the stable in order to tend his horse when he had heard two young voices conversing in a loud whisper.

"OW!"

"Hold him still, El. He won't hurt you if he can't move. Ouch!"

His curiosity roused, Glorfindel had followed the voices to an empty stall and peered over the edge to see two small elflings sitting on the floor and trying to hold a desperately squirming kitten still. A yowl escaped from the kitten, and Glorfindel rested his arms atop the stall. "What are you two doing to that poor kitten?"

They jumped and nearly released their hold on the kitten. When they looked up at him, Glorfindel could see many scratches on their faces, hands and arms. Elrond was not going to like that, he thought to himself. But if they were tormenting that kitten, the scratches were only their just punishment.

"He fell into a briar bush," Elladan said, trying to hold the kitten still. "They're stuck all over him, and we're trying to get them off, but he doesn't know that we're trying to help him."

"The briars are hurting him," Elrohir explained. "We can't just let him go until we get all of them out of his fur."

Realizing that their hearts were in the right places, and they were only attempting to help the kitten, Glorfindel entered the stall. "Would it help if I held him still while the two of you remove the briars?"

Two identical faces lit up as Glorfindel sat down between them and reached for the kitten. Elladan eagerly handed over the squirming bundle of fur. By the time the kitten was free of briars and deemed fit to release, all three of them had been covered in scratches. Glorfindel had found out just how difficult it was to hold a kitten that wanted so desperately to be free. Talking to the kitten had not helped, as it was too scared and hurting to be soothed. When he finally opened his hands and released the kitten, it had darted off as quickly as it could, taking refuge in whatever hiding place it could find.

Pulling himself back to the present time, Glorfindel glared at the laughing twins. "That was no ordinary kitten, if you will remember. It fought as ferociously as any minion of darkness."

"So that's why you named it Amlug," Elrohir gasped out between laughs. "I always thought 'dragon' was an odd name for that kitten. After that day, it had the sweetest temperament."

Elladan attempted to get his laughter under control. "I can still remember the look on Ada's face when you brought the two of us into the house and set about cleaning up all our scratches, as well as your own."

"He just shook his head and walked away, saying something about not wanting to know what had happened," Elrohir said, and all three of them started laughing again at the memory. It was quite some time before the three of them got their laughter under control again.

Elrohir finally straightened up. He and Elladan had taken seats in the room as they reminisced, and Elrohir had doubled over in his laughter. As he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, he smiled happily at the others. "I think I needed that." He shook his head, still chuckling to himself.

Glorfindel studied the twins and was pleased to see the ellyn he had always known, the ones who could take joy in the simplest things life had to offer and were not afraid to share that joy with those around them. He realized anew that these elves were not truly so different. The circumstances they had found themselves in had perhaps caused them to be more serious than they would ordinarily have been. Yes, there were differences, but they were not so great as to have made them strangers. He now felt quite guilty over the way he had been treating them. It seemed he had been adding to their burden without even realizing it.

"I apologize for the way I have treated you," he said abruptly, bringing the laughter to a halt as they sobered and stared at him. "I know you both far too well to imagine that either of you would ever lose control and hurt a sparring opponent. It was I who trained you, after all." He met the eyes of first one twin, then the other. "Forgive me for doubting you both. The changes in you are not so drastic as to have turned you into strangers. I simply needed to be reminded that you are still the same elflings that I have helped to raise. Despite the anger and pain I see in your eyes at times, I know that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt those you love. It is not in your natures."

Elladan nodded to him as Elrohir spoke up for them both. "There is nothing to forgive, Glorfindel. This situation has not been easy on you, as the only one who knew our secret, until Daernana found out, anyway. I do not think it has been easy for you to keep this secret from our parents, and I thank you for agreeing to do so. I readily admit that we did not make the best impression upon our arrival in our urgency to save Naneth from the orcs, and our behavior since then has been somewhat…erratic. But this situation has not been an easy one for us, either, and we have been struggling to regain our balance."

Elladan picked up where Elrohir left off. "It is no fault of yours if you did not entirely trust us, Glorfindel, but we truly do want to regain the trust you have always had in us. As our commander in Imladris' guard, you need to know what our capabilities are, what our level of fighting skill is now, what movements we may know that you are unaware of. Only then will you be able to trust us in battle, or on the sparring field. Would you be willing to join us on the sparring field and work with us until you know our full capabilities as you always have?"

Glorfindel nodded. That seemed the least he could do. "Would you care to start now?" he asked. He knew he had surprised the twins when they looked sideways at each other, then shrugged simultaneously.

"Now is as good a time as any," Elladan commented, and they stood as Glorfindel retrieved his sword.

When they returned to the practice field, they were pleased to see that they had it all to themselves. Glorfindel had the twins spar with each other first so he could watch their moves and see what it was that they had learned in the intervening centuries. As he watched, he had to admit to being greatly impressed by them. They moved as one being, ever anticipating the moves of the other and moving to counter them perfectly. There was a deadly grace apparent in their every move that came from the centuries they had spent in battles, ever watching each other's back.

Studying them intently, Glorfindel analyzed each move, determining their new level of skill. They demonstrated many moves he had not seen before, and he took careful note of them, knowing that he would ask to see them again later. They sparred for over an hour, never letting up their pace, staying perfectly synchronous in their movements. Neither seemed to have the advantage over the other, and Glorfindel knew that this was a demonstration for him, more then a real sparring match. Had it been a real match, they would have been working much harder on actually defeating the other.

Glorfindel was watching them closely enough to see a change in Elrohir’s expression, as it changed from the serious one the twins always wore on the field to the one that warned all that mischief of some sort was about to ensue. He was therefore unsurprised when a matching grin crossed Elladan’s face and they both put their swords aside as Elrohir lunged for Elladan’s midsection and they fell to the ground, wrestling like they had often done as elflings. He watched in great amusement as Elladan gained the upper hand, sitting astride his brother and pinning his hands to the ground. Elladan’s victory did not last long, however, as Elrohir wiggled one hand loose and quickly brought it up to tickle his older brother in the ribs. Elladan quickly let go of Elrohir to try to protect himself, and they were soon tickling each other and laughing uproariously. Glorfindel shook his head in amusement and walked over to stand over the two whom had collapsed back on the ground, lying on their backs and staring up at the sky, still chuckling.

“Are you two quite done?” he asked, a fond smile on his lips.

“I believe so,” Elladan said with a grin as he and Elrohir stared up at the golden-haired warrior standing over them. “I think we have had enough time on the practice field for the day. What do you think?” he directed his last question to his twin, glancing beside him.

Elrohir looked down at the grass stains on his and his brother’s clothing. “I believe we should return to our rooms and change our clothing. Naneth and Daernaneth might turn us away from the dinner table if we do not make ourselves more presentable.”

Looking down at his clothes, Elladan chuckled again. “You may have a point, little brother.”

Glorfindel extended a hand out to each of them, and as they grasped the offered hands, he pulled them easily to their feet. After they retrieved their swords, the three elves began walking slowly back to their rooms, with Glorfindel asking about the various moves he had noted.

That night, it escaped the notice of none that the twins and even Glorfindel seemed much more lighthearted than they had been on this journey. Their laughter actually reached their eyes, and they all seemed much more relaxed with each other. Galadriel nodded slightly to herself in satisfaction as she watched them. She was glad they had found some way to come to terms with each other and their new situations, without her having to take action of her own. If the wariness between the twins and Glorfindel had continued much longer, she had planned to step in and do what she could to help them regain the relationship they had always had. Knowing that the twins would not find their new lives here to be easy, knowing what they now knew, she wanted at least one steadfast friend by their side, and there was none better for that than Glorfindel.

Haldir and Celebrián exchanged relieved glances as they watched the twins sharing stories and laughing easily with each other and the others at the table. For once, they did not seem burdened by their visions, the shadows retreating from their eyes. Celebrián did not know if tomorrow might bring the shadows back to their eyes, but for this night, they were as she had always known them, and she relaxed with the knowledge that they were not lost or so changed as she might have thought.

The rest of their visit was quite pleasant for all concerned. Elladan and Elrohir remained on their better behavior, not pulling pranks on anyone, but being lighthearted and enough like their usual selves to ease the hearts and minds of those who had been concerned for them. They could often be found on the practice field, sparring with each other and working with Glorfindel.

Glorfindel had insisted on learning each of the moves they had learned and perfected over the years, though Elladan teasingly complained that he would never again be able to defeat Glorfindel in a match if they gave up all their secrets. A smile and a nod to continue the match were Glorfindel’s only responses. Celebrián spent part of each day with her sons, enjoying the time she could take with them. If a shadow occasionally passed through the eyes of one or the other, she would ignore it and it would soon pass, allowing the return of the son she had raised. She and her sons also spent a great deal of time with Galadriel and Celeborn, since that was the purpose of the trip in the first place. In this manner, the second half of their visit passed in a nearly idyllic manner.

Haldir had confided in Celebrián that he rather enjoyed this new, seemingly more mature side of her sons. Now that they were no longer so concerned for the well-being of the twins, he was quite pleased that they had not once tried to play a prank on him. He thought it showed that they were finally beginning to grow up. Celebrián had laughed and agreed that it was a nice respite, but not to count on this change being permanent.

Finally, it was the last night of their visit, and a great feast was held. The night air was filled with the voices, laughter and songs of joyous elves as they all enjoyed themselves late into the night. Away from the boisterous gathering, however, two elves knelt over the prone form of another.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Elrohir nervously asked Elladan as he glanced down at Haldir. The blond elf was deeply asleep, aided by a sleeping potion in his wine. Feeling that he was merely tired, the elf had made his excuses and left the party early to retire to his rooms. After allowing the sedative enough time to work, Elladan and Elrohir had quietly snuck away from the gathering and made their way to Haldir’s room.

“Of course we should be doing this,” Elladan retorted. “You have heard him, have you not? He thinks we have grown beyond things such as this.”

“And we cannot have that, now, can we?” Elrohir asked with a very wry expression on his face. “We could simply leave him to his sleep and return to the party.”

Elladan shook his head and reached for a bag containing their supplies. “No, you know very well that this is the perfect time for something such as this. He has completely let down his guard around us, and that is something he should know better than to do. It was far too easy to slip the herbs into his wine. Next time, he will not let his guard down so easily.”

“So this is a lesson to him?” Elrohir asked with a soft laugh. He was not sure that Elladan’s explanation made that much sense, but his brother had never had to work too hard to persuade him to go along with something like this. Holding out a hand to his brother for his share of the supplies, he grinned as they set about carrying out their plans. This would be quite the memorable prank.

When the twins returned to the party, they joined right back into the merrymaking, and few elves noticed that they had even been gone. It was quite late when they returned to their own rooms in search of some sleep before setting out the next morning.

Haldir missed the morning meal and remained absent as the preparations proceeded for the Imladris elves to depart. Elrohir glanced aside at his brother as they prepared their horses. He was getting concerned over Haldir’s absence.

“You did measure that sedative correctly, did you not?” he asked Elladan softly.

“Of course I did,” Elladan retorted just as softly. “I have a great deal of experience with this. I would not have given him too much.” His voice sounded a little unsure as he continued. “Though I did give him a larger than usual dose, it should not have kept him asleep this long.” When Elrohir shot him an exasperated look, Elladan shrugged defensively. “We could hardly have him waking up in the middle of it, could we?” However, his gaze now strayed worriedly toward Haldir’s quarters.

“What have you two elflings been doing?” Glorfindel’s voice sounded unexpectedly behind them, causing both to jump in guilty surprise and turn to face the balrog-slayer.

“Nothing,” Elladan answered quickly. “We are nearly ready to go.” He patted the finished pack on his horse and smiled at Glorfindel. “Is the rest of the party ready to leave?”

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed as he stared hard at first Elladan, then Elrohir. He was quite sure they were up to something. The innocent looks on their faces did not bode well for someone, and it had not escaped his notice that Haldir had yet to make an appearance today. “Where is Haldir?” he asked them casually.

Shrugging, Elladan was the one to answer. “Perhaps he is still asleep. The wine seemed to affect him rather strongly last night.”

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Glorfindel could not stop the thought that Elladan likely had something to do with how strongly the wine had affected Haldir. He turned from the twins to seek out someone to go and check on Haldir. Knowing the twins as he did, he was now quite concerned for the missing March Warden.

Before he could go far, however, a bellow was heard ringing out over the gathered elves. “Where are they? Where are those sneaking, conniving…” Haldir’s voice trailed off as he caught sight of the twins and came to a halt. “You!” he yelled as he strode toward them.

Glorfindel could only stare in shock at the elf in front of him as he approached the twins. Haldir had quite clearly fallen to one of the twin’s pranks. His face was…well, interesting was the only word Glorfindel could think of. Patterns in a dark brown color had been drawn over the warrior’s face. The left side of his face had been decorated to look like a cat, whiskers and all, while the right side had a free-hand pattern of swirls and curves arcing and twisting over the contours of his face. The part of his face that could be seen through the designs appeared reddened, as if he had been scrubbing at his face repeatedly. Glorfindel’s last thought was confirmed as Haldir stopped in front of the twins and pointed a finger at first one then the other.

“You two did this! How do I take this off? I have been working all morning to remove it!” Haldir’s voice was raised in anger as he glared at the two younger elves.

Elladan and Elrohir just gazed at him calmly. “It is no use trying to scrub it off,” Elladan said. “The dye will fade by itself…in four or five days.”

Haldir’s face grew livid as he heard that, and Glorfindel stepped closer to the twins as a precaution. He did not think Haldir would actually try to hurt them, but they appeared to have pushed the elf into quite a rage this time. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Haldir growled. “I can hardly command the respect of my warriors, looking like this!”

“I don’t know,” Elladan answered calmly. “I think it makes you look more fiercesome. Though perhaps we ought to have done the same pattern on both sides. What do you think, Elrohir?”

The younger twin studied Haldir’s face with a small smirk. “I prefer my design, brother, but since my artistic abilities are greater than your own, I think it best that you decided on a simpler design.”

At that comment, both Haldir and Elladan turned glares on Elrohir, bringing a broad smile to his face. He quirked an eyebrow at his brother. “You asked. I answered. Can I help it if you do not like the answer?”

Haldir snorted in frustration as neither of the twins showed the slightest hint of remorse for their prank. They simply stood there and discussed it quite casually in front of him and all the others. Knowing he would get no apologies, he turned away from them and moved to stand before Celebrián. He bowed his head before her. “Your presence among these woods will be greatly missed.” His sideways glare at her sons contrasted starkly with the formal words he had just spoken. “However, I will not miss the presence of your sons. They are worse than the spawn of Morgoth. Perhaps you can send them out against the forces of darkness? That would surely have them on the run in short order.” He took her hand in his and bowed over it respectfully once more, then turned and strode away from the gathering of elves, struggling to regain his dignity.

Celebrián watched him go, then turned a chastising look upon her sons. “That was hardly necessary, was it?”

They gazed back at her innocently. “The rumor reached our ears that Haldir was actually bemoaning the fact that we had not played pranks on him or anyone else,” Elrohir answered easily. “We were merely making an effort to accede to his desires.”

Though she tried to keep a serious expression on her face, Celebrían could not help the laughter that spilled from her at that remark. It was true that Haldir had complained to her toward the earlier part of their visit that the twins seemed far too serious and sober, and that he almost missed their pranks. “Well, he will never make that mistake again, now, will he?” she asked, shaking her head at her unrepentant sons. Their matching grins were all the answer they gave.

Their expressions a mix of chastisement and amusement over the antics of their grandsons, Galadriel and Celeborn stepped forward and said their farewells to the members of the visiting party. Galadriel gazed long into the faces of her grandsons, searching their hearts and minds. * I am pleased to see the return of the young ellyn we have always known. * She spoke the words into their minds. * I believe you will do well in this time, so long as you resist the temptation to change the course of history to suit yourselves. Glorfindel will be a wise counselor and a steady friend. Rely on him. *

Elladan and Elrohir nodded their heads to indicate that they understood. "Namárië, Daernaneth, Daeradar," Elladan said, "until next we meet." Elrohir echoed his brothers sentiments, and they stepped aside to allow their mother to say her farewells.

Galadriel held her daughter's face in her hands and gazed into her eyes before drawing her into an embrace. Looking over at the twins, she spoke once more into their minds. * Thank you.* Seeing them nod once more, she closed her eyes and held her daughter close before releasing her to allow Celeborn to say his farewell.

Once the farewells were finished, the Imladris elves mounted and turned to leave the safety and beauty of the Golden Wood behind. Elladan and Elrohir, ever on the alert for danger, took the lead, determining that no harm would befall their mother on their return trip. After a while of riding beside Celebrían, Glorfindel urged his horse forward to ride alongside the twins. "That was quite…interesting, what you did to Haldir. Wherever did you come up with such an idea?" Glorfindel was not altogether sure that he really wanted to know where they had come up with the idea.

Elrohir chuckled. "You can thank Estel for that."

Glorfindel frowned at the idea of thanking someone who had not yet been born. "How did he give you this idea?"

"It was rather by accident," Elrohir said, laughing. "Estel was only four or so at the time. He was in his room painting with Elladan when one of them came up with an idea, though I still do not know whose idea it was, and Estel began painting Elladan. Unfortunately, a clothing dye had somehow become mixed in with his paints, and while the paints washed off, the dye did not." It was difficult for Elrohir to finish his tale as he was trying to control his laughter. "Elladan had to live the next few days with childish drawings all over his face and arms."

Elladan flushed slightly, then joined in the laughter. It had been rather embarrassing at the time, but it was a fond memory of Estel's childhood now. He shook his head ruefully. "Raising children is quite an interesting experience."

Glorfindel shot Elladan a startled look.

Elrohir laughed at Glorfindel's expression. "Though Ada took over the role of his father, Elladan and I still had a large part to play in his upbringing. Estel had his naneth and our adar to raise him correctly, tell him the rules and provide whatever discipline he needed. But there were no others near his age, no elflings and no one to play with him. We were truly his brothers as he grew. We were the ones to play with him and make sure he was able to enjoy being a child."

A wicked grin crossed Elladan's face. "Thanks to us, he did all the things a normal child should do, and he showed quite a knack for finding trouble, even when he was not searching for it. It was often our jobs to help him out of that trouble."

Elrohir shook his head slightly. "Especially when it was our fault that he got in trouble. He showed far too great an aptitude at learning our pranks, I must say. Every time he heard another tale of our exploits, he had to go and try it for himself to see if it worked as he had been told. He was a highly curious and intelligent child, I must admit."

Glorfindel shook his head as he thought of a young child being a pupil of the twins and learning all of their tricks. He somehow doubted that Imladris was quite as peaceful during that time as it was now renowned for. "You will have to tell me some of those tales, some day," he commented, looking back over his shoulder. "But not here."

Elladan nodded. "When we return home, we will tell you whatever you wish to know about Estel's childhood." He kept his words specific, so that Glorfindel would know which topics were acceptable, and which were not.

Nodding, Glorfindel slowed his horse and dropped back toward Celebrían, leaving the twins to take point and watch for enemies. He knew that they would be the most motivated to be sure they all arrived home safely. While he noted that they were ever alert and prepared for whatever danger might await them, they had managed to keep their more relaxed demeanor. It was something he was quite relieved to see. He thought they were beginning to become more comfortable in this time and place.

The journey back to Imladris was uneventful with not a single enemy encountered, and the group was relaxed and laughing when they entered the valley they called home once again.

Elrond and Arwen stood on the steps in front of the house and watched in anticipation as the others rode into the courtyard and dismounted from their horses. Arwen ran forward and threw her arms about her mother while Elrond walked forward more sedately and stopped in front of the twins, eyeing them carefully for any signs of injury before smiling and pulling them both into his arms.

"I am glad you have arrived home safely," he said to them. "The house has been rather quiet in your absence." There was a sparkle of humor in his eyes as he spoke.

Elladan chuckled at that. "That is what you always say upon our return, Adar. But we know the truth. You would not know what to do if we were not here to bring noise and chaos to your life. Things would be far too boring here."

"That is indeed true," Elrond said, laughing, pulling back and looking each one in the face. "It brings me joy to have you both home again." He turned to face Celebrían as Arwen released her mother. "And it is even better to have you return home to me, meleth. I am not whole in your absence."

Celebrían smiled broadly as she stepped into Elrond's embrace and turned her face to his for a welcome home kiss.

Arwen left her parents to welcome her brothers. She hugged Elladan, then Elrohir, and then stood back and looked them up and down. "I see that you have managed to return in one piece this time," she teased them gently. "No injuries?"

"Not this time," Elrohir said, draping an arm around her shoulders and turning her to face the house as he began walking, escorting her inside. He turned his head to answer her when she inquired as to how their journey and visit had gone. A quick glance back at his twin said that Elladan was now responsible for taking care of their horses.

Elladan shook his head at his brother, remaining behind for a moment as he watched his parents greet each other, then walk slowly toward the house, arm in arm, smiles on their faces as they spoke quietly to each other. Glorfindel gently touched his shoulder, and he turned to meet the concerned gaze of the older warrior. A smile reassured the golden-haired elf as Elladan spoke. "It is well, Glorfindel. I am simply enjoying the sight of naneth and adar together. It is a sight that I will never tire of." The joy in Elladan's eyes and the ease of his posture brought an answering smile to Glorfindel's face.

"Well, since your brother and father seem to be otherwise occupied, perhaps we should see to the horses?" Glorfindel gathered his horse and Celebrían's before leading the way to the stables. Elladan led his and Elrohir's horses to the stables as well. He and Glorfindel spoke little as they took care of the horses, brushing and feeding them before taking the travel bags inside the house. Elladan chose not to seek the company of others just yet, returning to his room to wash away the travel dust and change into clean clothing before re-joining the others for the evening meal.

When he walked into the dining room, he saw Elrohir, Arwen, Glorfindel and Erestor seated already, talking as they waited for everyone to arrive. Elrohir and Glorfindel had also apparently taken the time to wash and change, as they were wearing the casual style of robes that they often wore around Rivendell rather than their travel tunics and leggings. Elladan took a seat next to Elrohir and asked where their parents were. Elrohir shot him a smirk, but never took his attention away from the story he was telling Arwen. Elladan shook his head at himself. Of course his parents would want some time alone after being separated for the long months of their visit to Lothlórien. He looked up as Elrond and Celebrían entered the room, hands entwined and soft smiles on their faces. A wide smile crossed Elladan's face as he watched his father seat his mother before taking his own seat. It had been so long since he had been able to watch the two of them together, and he had nearly forgotten how clearly they showed their love for each other.

Glorfindel watched Elrond and Celebrían with joy, knowing what had so narrowly been avoided. He would not have wanted to see what became of his long-standing friend if Celebrían were taken from him. It was she who helped ease his burdens, who lightened his heart and showed him how to take joy in his life without becoming so immersed in the running of the realm and the fight against the Shadow that he lost that joy. A glance over at the twins showed that they were taking just as much joy in the sight, judging by the wide smiles on their faces.

With the arrival of the lord and lady of Imladris, the meal was served. Over the course of the meal, the travelers shared stories of their trip, with Celebrían and Glorfindel taking turns describing what the twins had done to Haldir just before they left the golden wood. Elrond turned a disapproving glare upon his sons, but they returned innocent looks back to him.

"But Adar," Elladan explained reasonably, "he was literally asking us to do it."

Elrond raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Would you care to explain that unlikely statement?"

A consternated expression briefly crossed Elladan's face as he realized that he would now have to explain why Haldir and the others had been so concerned for Elrohir and him that they were actually missing the lighthearted side of the twins that they were used to seeing. "We were actually trying to be on our best behavior," Elladan said carefully. "But when we did not attempt to cause any mischief, everyone began to worry about us. Haldir was actually heard complaining that we had not tried to do anything to him. We simply did not want anyone worrying so, and made our plans carefully." A wry grin curved his lips. "Unfortunately, Haldir did not seem to appreciate our efforts."

Elrond's lips twitched slightly, and Elladan thought he was having a difficult time holding back a smile or laughter at their antics. Elrond exchanged a quick look with Celebrían, and his expression sobered. He looked back at Elladan and stared at him intently for a long moment, then turned to do the same to Elrohir. Though he did not say anything, Elladan knew that he knew there was much more to the story than Elladan had said. The subject was not broached, however, and Elladan relaxed as the topic of conversation moved on to encompass more of the events that occurred during their visit. After the meal was finished, Elrond invited all at the table back to his study to relax over a glass or two of wine.

Elrond played the host well, ensuring that all were comfortable and enjoying a glass of the wine that Celebrían had brought back from Lothlórien before he took a seat across from the twins. Celebrían placed a hand on his leg as he sat beside her, and he took her hand in his own. A moment of silence fell on the room before Elrond spoke, looking directly at his sons. "Your naneth tells me that you have had more visions than just the one I was told about."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a quick glance, trying to determine what they could reasonably tell their father. That glance was enough for them to decide to stick with what the others had been told in Lothlórien, the tale that Galadriel had approved. Though they hated to lie to their family, they could not tell Elrond the truth. Elrohir nodded for Elladan to take the lead.

Staring into his wineglass, Elladan slowly swirled the liquid and watched the light reflect off of the dark wine inside. He pulled his thoughts together and began speaking softly, not looking at his father's eyes. "Yes, we have," he said quietly. "The visions that Elrohir and I have seen are not like the visions you and Daernaneth have, however. For us, the visions are very vivid, as memories rather than as possibilities of the future. They have shown us what would have happened if we had not been able to prevent Naneth's capture by orcs." Finally looking up into his father's eyes, Elladan let his guard drop just enough to show Elrond the depth of the pain and anguish they had lived through before glancing away again. "It is not anything we wish to speak of," he said, looking back up to meet Elrond's eyes, finding the understanding he had hoped to see. "All that you need to know of the content of our visions is that the darkness is spreading, Sauron's minions are increasing by the day, and evil presses close once again." Seeing the depth of the understanding in Elrond's eyes, he continued, "But that is something that you know already, is it not?" He deftly turned the conversation to Elrond's visions and foresight.

Elrond's eyes narrowed as he stared at his son. He had not liked the pain that he had seen in Elladan's eyes. The depth of that pain and despair had struck at his heart, and he would have done anything he could to take that pain from his child. When Elladan had looked back up at him the second time, there had been little in his eyes to hint at the emotion he had shown so briefly. Elrond did not know whether to be glad that Elladan had mastered the pain so completely, or worried that he had been able to hide it so effectively. He was rather surprised when Elladan turned the tables on him and asked what he knew about the evil that sought to once again cover their world. A sigh escaped him as he leaned back against the sofa on which he sat. It was hardly a secret that darkness was on the rise again. The end of the Watchful Peace had come less than a century ago, and evil once again inhabited Dol Guldur. Orcs and other fell creatures were roaming the Misty Mountains and other regions, as evidenced by those that would have waylaid Celebrían and her escort. "Yes," he finally answered. "I fear that the rise of the evil creatures we have seen so far are evidence of a much larger plan to come, though I cannot see what that plan might be."

Elrohir glanced at his brother, then leaned forward slightly, catching his father's attention. "We agree," he said. "What we have seen thus far is only the beginning. Therefore, Elladan and I have decided to join the Dúnedain in their patrols in addition to our own."

Erestor started, staring at the twins and Arwen placed her hand on Elrohir's arm, beginning to protest. Neither of them had heard of this yet. Elrond held his son's gaze steadily, showing that Celebrían had already spoken of this with him. Elrohir placed his hand on Arwen's, asking her to hear him out. "We are protected here, in our hidden valley," he said, "but the Dúnedain are not. The people of the Dúnedain fight against the forces of Sauron and cover a larger area than our own patrols. If we add our strength to theirs, we help to protect their villages and keep the orcs further away from our own doorstep." He glanced at Elladan briefly and received a nod, then took a breath before continuing. "And we must do what we can to ensure the continuation and survival of the line of Elendil. As the world grows more dangerous, they will be more besieged. Sauron will not have forgotten Isildur, and will seek to destroy that line if he can." Elrohir held his father's gaze, showing him the depth of their commitment to this plan.

Elrond stared into Elrohir's eyes and saw that he planned to do as he had said, whether or not Elrond approved. Holding that gaze, Elrond tried to delve deeper into his son's mind, expecting Elrohir to grant him access easily, as he always had. To his surprise, he was rebuffed. Elrohir apparently did not want Elrond searching his heart and mind, and Elrond withdrew in surprise. Sadness crossed Elrohir's face, and he gazed at his father intently. "As Naneth has likely told you already, those visions were quite difficult for Elladan and I. We would appreciate it if you, and everyone else," he added, glancing at Erestor, Arwen and Celebrían, "would not pry into what we have seen. They were dark visions and we do not wish to speak of them. If we must speak of our experiences, we have each other, but we would not burden any of you with them."

Arwen gazed at her brothers worriedly as a concerned expression crossed Erestor's face. The hand on Elrohir's arm tightened in a question, and Elrohir's expression softened. He placed his arm around his sister's shoulders. "I do not mean to worry you," he said, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. "We have learned how to handle the visions, but they are not something we would wish to revisit, or share with others."

Elladan glanced over at Glorfindel, then turned to his father. "We have also told Glorfindel much of what we have seen. As captain of Imladris' guard, he needed to know certain things. While we do not wish to discuss much of our visions, we will tell you and Glorfindel anything we know about the safety of Imladris or our allies. Whatever is necessary for the defense of our people, you will be told. We only ask that none seek to discover the more personal aspects of our visions."

Elrond stared at his sons, perplexed by their refusal to discuss this with him. Celebrían squeezed his hand to let him know she shared his concern for their sons. Elrond stroked her hand reassuringly, then realized why his sons would not speak of their visions. They said it showed a world that would have existed if Celebrían had been taken by orcs. The pain that shot through his heart at the very thought was nearly debilitating. He could not imagine a life without his beloved by his side, and in that moment, knew that his sons sought to protect those they loved from what they had seen and experienced. Though he did not feel that he needed their protection, he had no wish for Celebrían or Arwen to know what those visions contained. "Very well," he said reluctantly. He looked over and held Glorfindel's eyes. "I am glad that they will discuss this with you, as they could have no wiser councilor. If you believe my sons are in danger from these visions, you will report this to me, and I will help them. I do not wish my sons to live with this pain if we can help alleviate it."

Glorfindel nodded his head, knowing as he did, that he would never be able to share the truth of the twins' 'visions' with Elrond. "Of course, hîr-nin. At the moment, I do not believe they are in danger. They are well able to handle all that they have seen." In that, he spoke truth. He knew that the destructive behavior of the twins was in the past, and they would not allow their memories to overtake and rule them.

Elrond relaxed back into the sofa again, and felt Celebrían curl up against his side. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and gazed again at his sons, wishing he could help them, but knowing they would not allow it at this time. As silence settled over the room, Elrohir spoke up once more, his voice quiet. "I would also appreciate it if the knowledge of our visions go no further than those in this room. We were the objects of concern in Lothlórien, and we can feel it again in this room. We do not want others being careful around us or worrying over us. To that end, I ask that this not be shared with any others unless there is a great need." Elrohir looked around the room, holding the eyes of each until he received a nod of agreement, however reluctant. "Good," Elrohir said, settling back and gently tickling Arwen's ribs, making her squirm away from him. "So, does anyone want to hear what we plan to do to Haldir on our next visit?"

Elladan smiled as an exasperated look crossed the faces of both of their parents.

"Haldir will not allow either of you anywhere near him on your next visit," Celebrían said, offering them a reprieve for the moment and going along with the change of subject.

The others followed her lead, and the conversation drifted away from the twins. After finishing their glasses of wine, Elladan and Elrohir excused themselves, claiming fatigue. They could feel the eyes of all those in the room watching them as they departed.

Once they were out of hearing range, Elladan turned to Elrohir. "Do you think Ada will let this go? He seemed quite concerned with how we were being affected by our 'visions'. I do not think he will be content to simply let the matter drop."

A sigh escaped Elrohir. "He is our father and a healer, Elladan. He saw a glimpse of our pain tonight, and wishes to help ease it. I cannot fault him for that, but no, I do not think he will simply let go of this at our request. The only way we can convince him not to pursue this is if we show him that there is no need for concern. We can only do as we had decided, live our lives as normal and show him that we have not been as strongly affected as everyone fears."

Elladan nodded. "I only hope it works."

"So do I," Elrohir responded. They had reached their rooms, and Elrohir stopped in front of his, hand on the doorknob. "Sleep well, muindor, for tomorrow is a new day, and we must convince our family that there is no need for concern."

Elladan wished his brother a pleasant night as well, then stepped into his own room, muttering under his breath. "That is likely easier said than done, muindor."

The next morning, Elrond entered the library where Elladan and Elrohir were reading quietly, enjoying the silence. They looked up when he knocked lightly on the doorframe. "May I speak with you both?" he asked, glancing from one to the other.

Elladan exchanged a glance with Elrohir and motioned for their father to sit down near them. "Of course," he responded.

Taking the seat offered, Elrond broached the topic carefully. "I would like to discuss what we were talking about last evening." He held up a hand to stop the protests he saw forming on their faces. "Please, let me speak. I did not want to pursue this topic last night with your naneth and Arwen present, but I do not need protecting, my sons. I want you to feel that you can tell me whatever you have seen in your visions. Celebrían told me of your behavior in Lothlórien, and I have seen some of the pain you felt from these visions. I only wish to help you both. There has never been anything in your lives that you did not feel you could share with me, and I do not wish this to be any different."

Elrond's voice was earnest, his eyes concerned as he watched his sons. Elladan glanced over at Elrohir and saw the impassive expression of his twin. Sighing, Elladan rubbed a hand over his face and looked back to his father. "Adar, we have said before that we do not wish to speak of these things." He held up his hand to halt Elrond's words, much as he had done to them a moment ago. "Our reluctance is only partly from our desire to protect you and the others from what we have seen. It is truly for our own well being that we ask this, however. It is not an easy thing for either of us to relive those visions, as each time, it is as if it is happening all over again." Elladan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. Opening his eyes, he held his father's gaze. "If you truly wish to see what it is we hide, then look, but look well, for we will not offer this again. It is too difficult on us."

Though he felt greatly uneasy over Elladan's words, Elrond could not help but take his son up on the offer. His curiosity in this was too great. Staring deeply into Elladan's eyes, Elrond watched as his son dropped the barriers that normally protected his mind and allowed Elrond to see into his memories. A gasp escaped Elrond as he felt anger and rage searing his mind. The strength of the emotions made it difficult for him to breathe. A series of scenes flashed by, nearly too quickly for him to make sense of them. What he did see brought pain to his heart. His son was being quite careful not to show him images of Celebrían, but focused more on what they went through after her loss. The image of his sons surrounded by orcs, fighting for their lives occurred over and over again. The emotions associated with those images were not only anger and hatred, but pleasure in the kill, an emotion he never thought to see in his sons. In between the flashes of battle, he saw scenes of them in Imladris, withdrawn, alone, distant from him and all others who cared about them. He saw himself through Elladan's eyes, drifting through his days, nearly lost in his own grief and pain. The despair he felt threatened to overwhelm him, and he felt his heart break as he knew that the emotion was coming from Elladan.

Elrohir was watching his brother and father closely, knowing what a strain this would put on Elladan, and what a shock it would be to his father. When he saw Elladan's hands begin to tremble, he moved quickly between them, breaking their gaze from each other. "Enough, Elladan," he said, covering his twins hands with his own. "You must stop now, it is too much." When he touched his brother, he could feel the emotions that Elladan had shared with Elrond still raging through him. He reached up a hand and turned Elladan's eyes toward his own. "Enough," he whispered again, taking the brunt of Elladan's emotions, and seeking to calm and soothe them. The rage and anger were familiar to him, and he had a great deal of experience at soothing them and locking them away where they could not hurt anyone. Elladan shut his eyes and bowed his head, reaching one hand to rest on Elrohir's shoulder. The younger twin could feel the battle within Elladan to subdue and control the memories and emotions once again. After several long moments, the strain began to drain from Elladan's body and he sagged back into his chair.

Seeing that his brother was once again under control, Elrohir turned around to face his father. "No more," he said firmly. "There will be no more questions about this. You do not know what you ask when you wish us to relive this." After staring at his father, some of his anger drained away. Elrond was pale and looked quite shaken, his hand trembling as he reached up to rub his hand over his face as if to rid himself of the visions he had been shown. "Ada?" Elrohir asked in concern.

Elrond nearly swayed from the shock when his contact with Elladan was abruptly broken. It took a long moment before he regained his knowledge of his surroundings and realized that Elrohir was crouching before Elladan, helping his brother to fight his way back from the memories that had threatened to consume him, and take Elrond along for the ride. As he watched his eldest son struggle with his emotions, Elrond finally realized that his insistence had caused more harm to his sons than any good that could have come from this. They had learned how to live with these memories, but every time someone asked them about the visions, they were forced to relive those memories, and to struggle through the emotions brought about all over again.

When Elrohir turned to him and insisted so fiercely that Elrond not ask them any further questions, he took the chastisement easily. He would never wish to cause them pain in this manner again. Elrond looked at Elrohir when he called to him, and saw the concern in his son's eyes. Elrohir had always been sensitive to the feelings of those around him, and Elrond knew his son had noticed how shaken he was by what he had been shown. "I am well," he reassured Elrohir.

Elrohir could see how shaken his father was, and looked back and forth between him and Elladan, trying to see who needed his help the most. He finally turned back to Elladan and placed his hand over his brother's. "El?" he asked softly.

Elladan leaned forward to rest his head in his hands, then let out a long, slow breath. "I am well, 'Ro." A shaky laugh escaped him. "I cannot keep doing this. The next time someone wants to see our 'visions', I believe it is your turn to show them."

A surge of guilt swept through Elrohir. He had hardly been fair to his twin, expecting Elladan to be the one to relive the memories each time. "Very well," he said softly.

That brought Elladan's head up abruptly as he stared at his twin. Reaching out, he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "No, 'Ro. I did not mean that. I would not truly ask you to do this. I could not put you through such pain again." Elladan regretted his words, though they were said mostly in jest. They both had suffered so greatly after Celebrían's departure, but Elladan knew that Elrohir had largely followed his lead in going out to hunt the orcs. His anger and rage had led them both to centuries of battle, and he accepted full responsibility for that. As such, he could not ask his brother to relive those years, not if he could prevent it.

"Neither of you will be asked to do so again," Elrond spoke up, catching the attention of both his sons. "You are correct. I did not know what it was I asked. Now that I have seen…" his voice trailed off for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued. "I will be sure that none seek to ask you about those visions again." He stood and moved to kneel by his sons, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Forgive me, ionnath."

Elladan placed his hand over his father's. "There is nothing to forgive, Ada. You only wished to help us." He held his father's gaze once more. "But in this, the only way you can help is by leaving us alone to deal with it as we may."

Elrond saw the pain and sorrow lingering in the depths of the eyes of his son, and sorely regretted that he had been the one to bring it about. He nodded slowly. "It will be as you ask. Please take this afternoon and rest, I will ensure that you are left alone for as long as you need."

A nod from Elladan was the response, and Elrond stood, looking down at his sons for a long moment before walking slowly away. Having caused them pain, he now did not seem to know how best to help them.

Giving a great sigh, Elladan leaned back against the sofa cushions. "I do not think he will ever bring that subject up again." Though it had been quite a painful experience, Elladan felt that they had at least succeeded in their goal of forcing Elrond to drop the subject of their visions.

"I'm sorry that it caused such a strain on you, though," Elrohir said, still feeling guilty.

Elladan shook his head abruptly. "Do not be, muindor. It is never pleasant, but I am fully capable of letting it go." He gave Elrohir a small smile. "After all, we are here, and Naneth is safe, is she not? I fully intend to make use of this second chance, and now, we should be able to live our lives without constantly worrying that others will press us for details of our visions. For that, this was a small price to pay." He patted Elrohir's hand reassuringly, and picked up the book that had been set aside earlier. "And now, if you do not mind, I would like to finish my book."

Elrohir watched his brother for a moment before rising, shaking his head and returning to his own seat and the book that he had been reading earlier.

Over the next days and weeks, Elladan and Elrohir strove to fit back into the lives they had led for centuries before their mother's capture. It did not take them long until they felt once more at home in a way that they had not in a very long time. They were watched very closely at first, by more than one set of eyes, but as they relaxed back into their daily lives, the close scrutiny gradually eased.

Author's note: the next chapter will not be a twins chapter. I plan to make the next chapter an Aragorn chapter as well, since I have more planned for his storyline. But please read, enjoy and review. :)

Beta: Radbooks

Rating: PG for some battle scenes and angst. Some later chapters might warrant a higher rating.

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Ten

A week after Aragorn learned that Gandalf would not be able to send him home, he chose to take refuge in the library, hoping to find some solitude. Though he knew the others were concerned for him and his apparently uncharacteristic melancholy mood, he could not quite manage to make himself behave in the manner to which they had become accustomed. Now that he knew for a fact he could not return home, it was more difficult to pull out of the melancholy. He missed Arwen and he had barely begun to know Eldarion. Would his son now grow up without a father?

He tried to concentrate on the book of poetry he held. It had always been one of his favorites, but the words did not seem to register in his mind this time. His eyes had been on the same page for the better part of an hour, and he was still unsure what he had read.

The running patter of little feet broke into his musings, and he looked up to see little Aragorn skid around the corner and dash into the library. His face lit up when he saw Eradan sitting in a chair, and he quickly clambered up into his lap.

"What are you up to, penneth?" Eradan asked the small child who was currently trying to hide his face in Eradan's shoulder.

"Hiding," Aragorn said, peeking momentarily up at Eradan before hiding his face again.

Eradan could not help but quirk his lips up in a smile at the logic of children. If they could not see anyone else, they assumed they could not be seen. "Who are you hiding from?" he asked.

"Nana," the child whispered.

"And why are you hiding from your naneth?" Eradan asked patiently, trying to get the full story.

"Nana say nap time. I no take naps," Aragorn peeked up at Eradan again with a grin. "I big boy."

"So you are," Eradan said, smiling back down at the boy. He looked up as Gilraen came around the corner, looking for her son.

"Ah, there you are," she said. She entered the room and made her way toward the small child, who was currently holding tight to Eradan's neck. "I am sorry he bothered you like this, Eradan." As she reached for the boy, he clung all the tighter.

"No nap!" he said loudly in Eradan's ear.

Eradan winced, then placed his hand on the boy's back. "I am not bothered, my Lady. If you would care to leave him here, I can watch him for a time." He nodded down at the child who was now rubbing his eyes with a small fist. It would likely not be long before he fell asleep. "I will return him to his room later," he said, "if that is well with you."

Gilraen paused in thought, watching the young man and her son. She knew that Eradan had been seeking solitude and might not have wished to have that solitude disturbed, but perhaps spending time with the energetic child would help comfort him. The man had refused all attempts and offers of comfort from the others, but perhaps Aragorn would succeed where all others had failed. She nodded to him, knowing that her son was in good hands with this one. "Very well. You can bring him back to our rooms when you are ready." She bent down to kiss the top of Aragorn's head, then straightened and headed for the door. "Thank you, Eradan," she said as she stopped just in the doorframe. Once he nodded to her, she left the room.

Glancing down at the child in his lap, Eradan smiled as Aragorn looked warily around the room. "Gone?" Aragorn asked.

"Yes, little one, she is gone. It looks like you do not have to take your nap today. So what would you like to do?" Eradan watched as Aragorn studied their surroundings to make sure that his mother was not hiding somewhere, ready to jump out and take him off to their rooms so he could take a nap.

Aragorn placed his hand over the book that Eradan had been reading. "Book!" he exclaimed. He loved it when people read stories to him.

Eradan took a few minutes to find an appropriate poem, then began reading. Aragorn settled back against him, his head coming to rest against Eradan's shoulder, with Eradan's arm curled around him to hold the book in front of them both. As he began reading the poem, Eradan could not help but think of the life to which he could not return. During their courtship, Aragorn and Arwen had often read poetry to each other, several times out of this very book. The thoughts of her filled his mind, and he sighed softly as he read aloud to this smaller version of himself.

Little Aragorn apparently picked up on his somber mood and looked upward at his face. "Erda sad?"

Eradan forced his thoughts away from his previous life and focused on the child in his lap. "I'm just thinking of someone, Aragorn. I'm fine."

"Good," he said, snuggling back into Eradan's arms. "Not be sad. My Erda happy."

Eradan smiled softly at the top of Aragorn's head, hugging him gently as he turned back to reading the poetry. It was only another few minutes before Aragorn's head began to droop and his breathing grew calm and even. Eradan read to the end of the poem, then put the book aside, easing back into the chair and cuddling the sleeping child more comfortably in his arms. He could return Aragorn to Gilraen, but things were quiet and peaceful, and he was enjoying this moment of holding a sleeping child. Leaning his head back against the cushion of the chair, he closed his own eyes and allowed the peace of the room to lull him to a half dozing state.

It was only when he heard a softly cleared throat that he opened his eyes again. Finding Gandalf standing in the doorway, he tilted his head toward an empty chair, indicating that he wanted the wizard to join him. Gandalf entered the room and quietly took a seat, not wanting to disturb the sleeping child. Noting the melancholy look in Eradan's eyes, he gave the man an opening to speak, if he wished. "You look quite natural, holding a child."

Eradan gave him a sad smile. "When I left my time, my son had only been one week in the world. Now I do not know if I will ever see him again." He glanced down at the child on his lap. "As odd as the thought is, this may be the closest I will ever come again to having a child to call my own." He shook his head in confusion. "Here I sit, holding, in essence, myself. How did things come to this? How is any of this possible?" Eradan sighed and waved off Gandalf's concerned look. "I know, you cannot, or will not answer, so I will not ask again. But I cannot help but mourn what I have lost, possibly forever."

The wizard watched the man with concern. Ever since finding out Eradan's true identity, he no longer saw the young man that everyone else saw. Behind the youthful face, Gandalf saw a much more experienced man struggling with his grief. "Aragorn," he started, beginning to offer what comfort he could.

A raised hand stopped the words from the wizard's mouth. "It is Eradan, if you will remember." He looked down at the child on his lap. "It would be best if you only ever referred to me as the others do, and it will also be less confusing." Sighing, he glanced back at Gandalf. "In fact, I believe it is time for Eradan to once again be the only one seen. If I remain myself, I am able to do little more than grieve. It is time to allow Eradan to surface and Aragorn to sleep."

Gandalf leaned forward. "I do not know if that is truly the best thing to do. I believe Aragorn's knowledge of the future will be quite useful in ensuring that matters progress as they should."

Eradan shook his head slightly. "And yet that same knowledge is also dangerous. I cannot discuss what I know with anyone. Though I have enjoyed having a friend who knows who I truly am, even with you I must guard my words. I fear saying too much. There are many events that must happen, and not all of them are pleasant. Besides, even when Eradan is the one in the forefront of my mind, I do not forget that which I know, I simply allow the thoughts and emotions of Aragorn to fade. It tends to blunt the grief and concerns that I carry with me. In that, I react more as Eradan would, and less as I would, which can only help my disguise, as it were." Sighing, Eradan ran one hand lightly over his face. "I do not care to cause Arathorn and the others to worry. I have not been blind to the concern in their faces as they watched me. I have simply been unable to bring myself out of this sense of loss. Perhaps if Aragorn fades somewhat, the grief will as well. At least, that is my hope."

Gandalf nodded as he watched the mix of emotions on the man's face. Grief was clearly seen, but a determination was also present. The wizard could well believe that this man was the Chieftain of the Dúnedain and would do whatever was necessary for the good of his people and his world. "Very well," he said softly. He was quiet for a long moment as he watched the man. "If you do not mind, I will keep in contact with you as best I can. I would appreciate knowing if you see differences between the history you remember and the progression of events here. Perhaps between the two of us, we can keep history on its proper course."

"Of course I do not mind," Eradan replied. "As I said, I enjoy having one person who knows me for myself. Even if you do not have the memories of our long years of friendship, I do. I would appreciate keeping in contact with you as well, and there is no other I would trust so easily with this knowledge." Looking down again at the child in his lap, he smiled slightly. "And now, if you will excuse me, I should return this little one to his mother."

Gandalf nodded as Eradan stood and carried the child back to Arathorn and Gilraen's rooms. Every time he saw the two of them together, he could not help but be amazed at the thought that they were two versions of the same person.

Over the next few days, he was somewhat saddened to see Aragorn withdraw and Eradan once again take his place. This was not the battle that Gandalf had previously witnessed, with Aragorn trying to suppress himself so that only Eradan was seen, but more a gradual surrender. Little by little, the elder, experienced warrior faded, to be replaced by the younger, more curious and enthusiastic Ranger. It seemed to the wizard that this was a deeper submersion than the one he had previously witnessed, and was not sure he was comfortable with what he was watching. He only hoped the man did not bury his true self so deeply that he would not be able to recall his life and the version of history he had lived. That knowledge would likely be necessary as time progressed.

After another couple of weeks, Arathorn announced at dinner that they would be riding out in two days to rejoin the patrols. He glanced at Eradan as he spoke. The young man had been quiet of late, withdrawn, though he seemed to be coming out of it. The bright, inquisitive and often playful youth had seemingly vanished for a time, replaced by a serious man who was not able to take joy in the life and beauty around him. He knew that Eradan was finally grieving the loss of his father, but it seemed as if there was something more that was bothering him. The sons of Elrond had made numerous attempts to engage him in the playful banter that he had so enjoyed. Their efforts usually received a small smile of gratitude for their friendship, but rarely resulted in him joining in and responding in kind. It was only in the last week that the young man had once again begun to laugh and resume his previous banter.

Arathorn had been worried enough that he had discussed the matter some time ago with Elrond and Gandalf. The wizard had simply suggested that he allow the man some time to learn how to live with his losses. Elrond, on the other hand, had shared his concern and had even suggested that he allow Eradan to remain in Imladris when Arathorn left on the next patrol. Arathorn had not told Eradan of the offer, hoping that the man would seem more himself before the time came to leave. Now that the time drew near and the young man had only just begun to return to his former self, he decided to inform him of the offer. Imladris was renowned as a place of healing. Perhaps he would be able to continue his healing more readily in the protected valley than on patrol.

After the meal, Arathorn called Eradan and Elrond into the library. A slight nod informed Elrond what topic Arathorn planned to broach. Arathorn gestured for Eradan to take a seat, then sat nearby. Elrond stood apart, allowing Arathorn to speak his piece. Eradan glanced back and forth between them, obviously wondering what this meeting was about.

Arathorn stared steadily at Eradan, and the young man held his gaze easily, waiting for the other to speak. "I have been glad to see you begin to emerge from your grief over these last few days," Arathorn began. "We have been concerned for your well-being during our stay here, and it lightens my heart to see you able to smile again." Arathorn glanced aside at Elrond before focusing back on Eradan. "In order to further your healing from this grief, Lord Elrond has offered the hospitality of his home. If you wish, you may stay here for the duration of the current patrol, and join us again for the next. This is a place of healing and rest, and I would see you find that healing from your grief."

Eradan kept his face as impassive as he could. Bowing his head toward Elrond, he began to speak. "I appreciate the offer, my lord, but I cannot accept it." He looked back to Arathorn. "My place, and my duty is at your side, and I will not shirk that duty. Your concern honors me, but I am in no need of such favors. I am well enough to join you on patrol. I swear that I will not be a danger to you, myself, or any other on the patrol."

Arathorn gazed at Eradan in some consternation. "I never thought you would be a danger, Eradan. I know how much you enjoy your time here, and I have seen the depth of your grief. I simply wanted to give you a chance to recover fully before you once again ride out with the patrols."

Eradan inclined his head toward him. "And as I said, I appreciate your concern and thoughtfulness, but I cannot remain here while you are on patrol. Yes, I enjoy learning the skills of a healer at Lord Elrond's side. I enjoy learning how to track and fight with Elladan and Elrohir. There is much I enjoy about this place and the people who live here, and were you to stay here, I would gladly remain as well. You are my chieftain, my lord, and my place is at your side. I will not leave you."

Eradan held Arathorn's gaze and the determination in his voice made it quite clear that he would not budge. He had made his choice, and short of making it an order, Arathorn knew that he would not be able to convince Eradan to stay behind. Inclining his head, Arathorn gave in. "Very well, Eradan. When I leave here two days hence, you will be at my side. It seems I could hardly pry you loose if I tried."

A faint flush crept up Eradan's cheeks as he heard the amusement in Arathorn's voice. Perhaps he had been a bit more forceful than a young ranger should be. He tried to respond in the same light manner that Arathorn had used. "I am your bodyguard, after all, my lord," he said, with a small smile. "What kind of bodyguard would I be if I allowed you to leave without me?"

Elrond raised an eyebrow as he glanced back and forth between the Chieftain and the rather inexperienced and much younger Ranger. "Bodyguard?" His tone of voice was somewhat disapproving.

Arathorn raised a hand toward Elrond to halt the elf lord's disapproval. "He is not my bodyguard in truth. When we were trapped in the cave, Eradan commented that I seemed to need a protector, and volunteered himself for the position." He turned a small smile toward the younger man. "Our young ranger seems to believe that I am not capable of watching out for myself."

Eradan returned a mischievous smile. "I did not make that claim, my lord. I had simply noticed that in two patrols with you, I had saved your life twice. It seemed to me that you needed a protector, and who better than someone who had successfully done so twice?"

Elrond allowed a small smile as he watched Arathorn and Eradan. The young man seemed much more at ease here than he had for many days. It was good to hear him jest with the others again, and to see that spark of mischief that had drawn his sons to befriend the ranger. Perhaps his offer would not be needed after all. With a nod, he left Arathorn and Eradan alone in the library to discuss the details of the patrol. Elrond knew that Arathorn had not spoken of the next patrol with Eradan before this, so he would have much to tell the young man.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Eradan found Elladan and Elrohir on the training field. Taking a seat on the ground nearby, he watched as the twins sparred, admiring their deadly grace. It was something he never tired of, watching them. Though his skills were great, nearly unmatched among men, he would never compare to their level of skill and grace. They continued sparring for many minutes before they noticed him watching and called a brief halt. As the twins sat down nearby, Elladan leaned back upon his hands, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Adar tells us that you will be leaving with Arathorn upon the morn," the elder twin said, watching the young man.

Eradan nodded. "Yes. While I appreciated your father's offer to remain here, I cannot stay behind while my Chieftain rides on patrol. I will not shirk my duties."

Elrohir shook his head. "None would consider it shirking your duties if you have Arathorn's blessing and are remaining in order to heal." He paused for a moment before adding something he was not sure he should. "It would please me if you were to remain for a time. I have come to consider you a friend, and you have proven yourself an apt student. I will miss our training sessions."

A smile crossed Eradan's face as he regarded the younger twin. "As will I. However, I will return with Arathorn whenever he comes back to Imladris. And from what you and he have said, you join several of his patrols, so I will soon be able to continue my training with you. It is only an interruption, not a cessation to our time together." Eradan sobered, the smile vanishing from his face. "However, while I am gone, I have a favor I wish to ask."

Elladan sat up straighter, nodding as Elrohir encouraged him to continue.

"Aragorn has come to think of me as his friend, or his brother," Eradan began slowly. "And I could not help but notice that there are no children or elflings here. He has none near his age to play with. It is not good for a child to grow up alone, having none with whom he can play and be a child. I have made an effort to take this role and allow him to be the child he is, but when I am gone, he has only his mother to play with him. If you would be so kind as to take over my role while I am absent, I would appreciate it."

The twins glanced back and forth between themselves, Elladan's eyebrow arched high. "You want us to play with the child?" he asked in a slightly disbelieving tone of voice. "In case you had not noticed, we are not exactly near enough his age to be appropriate playmates."

Eradan sighed, not expecting to have to persuade the twins to take on the role they had taken in his life. Shaking his head in frustration, he glared at Elladan. "Though I may seem a child to you, I am not near Aragorn's age either. You do not have to be a child to play with one." He stared at the twins, urging them to understand. "Please, I feel this is important to his future. It cannot be that difficult to play with a child. You simply spend time with him, and let him direct the activities. He has quite an imagination, and will usually tell you what he wants to do, or how he wants you to act. Simply follow his lead, and you can keep him quite happy."

Elrohir held a hand up to halt anything Elladan might say. "If this is important to you, we will make the attempt. I cannot be sure that he will think us acceptable substitutes for you, but we will try." He met Eradan's gaze steadily.

Nodding, Eradan accepted the promise. "Thank you."

Elladan shook his head at the thought of what his brother had just promised for them both. But perhaps it would not be too difficult a task. He just did not know what a two-year-old child would expect of his playmates. Well, he supposed they would figure it out eventually. Standing, he looked down at the two still sitting on the ground. "Well, before you leave, are you ready for one more lesson?" His grin was feral as he watched Eradan.

A wide grin crossed Eradan's face. "I am always ready to learn," he said easily, standing and walking toward the open area usually used for sword practice. "Who am I sparring with today?"

"That would be me," Elladan said, glancing aside at Elrohir to make sure his brother did not want to claim this session. Elrohir nodded slightly to Elladan, indicating that he would take the role of instructor while Elladan sparred with the young ranger.

Eradan pulled his sword out of its scabbard and readied himself for the lesson. He would enjoy this one as much as he could, as it would be the last for some time. The patrol they were heading out on would last for several months this time. Elladan took his place opposite Eradan, and the lesson began.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Eradan and Arathorn were ready to leave shortly after sun-up. Elrond and his sons, as well as Gilraen, were there to see them off. Aragorn was still sleeping, and they had said their good-byes to him the night before. Eradan clasped arms with the twins and reminded them of their promise to him. They nodded and wished him well. Arathorn spoke quietly for a few moments with Gilraen, and then it was time for them to leave. Mounting their horses, they looked back at the others for a brief moment, then turned and headed down the path, away from the sheltered valley. The rest of their patrol was waiting for them in a nearby village. It would include two of the Dúnedain from their last patrol, Baran and Tarcil, and two new members. Though Eradan wanted to stay in Imladris in order to ensure that the correct course of history was followed with regards to young Aragorn, he truly did feel that he should remain by Arathorn's side. Besides the fact that it was his duty as a ranger, he wanted to spend as much time as he could with the father he had never had a chance to know. As they left the valley behind, he was of two minds, and he did not know if he had chosen correctly. But, having chosen, he must now live with that choice, whatever may follow.

As the months of the patrol passed, Eradan's fears for the future began to ease as he settled once more into the life of a Ranger. In this time and place, his lot was much easier than it had ever been on his previous patrols. He was not expected to lead, or to make any decisions as to the best way to proceed. Now, as the youngest member of the patrol, he was expected to learn, which he did, so quickly as to amaze the other Dúnedain, and to follow orders. His opinion was sought, but usually as a learning exercise, and the final decisions always lay in the hands of others. They had the occasional encounter with orcs, and always emerged mostly intact. The training as a healer that he had begun with Elrond and the twins seemed to be necessary rather often, and he quickly earned the respect of all the members of his patrol for his healing skills as well as his quick mind and fighting prowess.

At the end of the patrol, Eradan and Arathorn were able to return to Imladris with only a few new scars to their names. As they approached the main house and dismounted from their horses, they were met by a small bundle of energy rushing to impact with Arathorn's legs.

Arathorn grabbed his son and lifted him high above his head, the child squealing in delight. "My, you have grown!" Arathorn exclaimed as he brought the squirming child back down to rest on his hip.

"I three now," Aragorn explained to his father proudly. "I big boy."

"Yes, you certainly are," Arathorn said, a smile on his face as he tickled his son.

Eradan smiled as Aragorn's squeals of laughter rang about them. He knew that Arathorn had not wanted to miss Aragorn's third birthday, but it was something that could not have been helped. It was simply the life of the Dúnedain in these dangerous times. The men rode out on patrol to keep their families and the other free peoples of Arda safe, and their own desires meant little against that.

"Erdan!" Eradan glanced downward at the child now standing in front of him. "Come play!" Aragorn reached up and grabbed hold of Eradan's hand, pulling him toward the house. Eradan looked back at Arathorn, he needed to take care of his horse after the long ride.

"Go ahead," Arathorn told him easily. "I will see to your horse. It seems my son has other plans for you at the moment."

Bowing his head slightly toward his chieftain, he allowed the child to pull him to his favorite play area. Aragorn had a set of carved wooden animals scattered on the floor of his play room, and he placed a horse and a dog into Eradan's hands. "You horsie and doggie," he said, reaching down and grabbing a rabbit and a wolf in his own hands. "I woof and rab'it."

Eradan could not help but smile at the interesting mix of animals Aragorn had chosen. He thought Aragorn would likely not be playing by the same rules that the animals naturally would, or the rabbit would soon be the prey of the wolf. Holding the animals and moving them along the floor as if they were walking, he barked like a dog and allowed Aragorn to lead the play. If Eradan did something the child did not like, he would correct the man and show him the 'correct' way to play.

Nearly an hour later, a knock sounded on the door, and Eradan glanced up to see Elladan and Elrohir standing in the doorway. "Arathorn told us we would find you here," Elrohir said with a smile, watching the two humans play on the floor.

"Elladan, Elrohir!" Eradan exclaimed. "I am glad to see you both. Please, come in and join us." He gestured toward two chairs nearby. The twins exchanged a quick glance that Eradan was not sure how to interpret, then entered the room and took the seats he had indicated.

"You seem well," Elrohir said as they studied the young ranger.

"I am well enough," Eradan replied. He gave them a quick grin. "I have even managed to return from patrol with no injuries."

Elladan returned a small smile. "That is quite good to hear. So, your patrol was uneventful?"

Eradan glanced at Aragorn and shook his head slightly, indicating he would tell them of the patrol at a later time, when there was not a pair of little ears listening to every word. "It went well," he answered easily. He looked back down at Aragorn. "Have you had fun playing with Elladan and Elrohir while I've been gone?"

Aragorn looked up at the elves with wide eyes, then looked back at Eradan. "I play wif Nana." He moved closer to Eradan. "Not them."

Eradan eyed the small boy, then looked back at the twins. "Is that so?"

Elladan met Eradan's gaze. "Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere."

Nodding, Eradan ruffled Aragorn's hair, then stood up. "I will return in a moment, Aragorn." He shook his head to stifle the boy's protests. "I will not be long, I promise." With a small pout and a nod, Aragorn agreed to allow Eradan to leave. Waving the twins to join him, Eradan headed to an adjoining room and shut the door behind him. He stared at the twins for a moment.

Elrohir held up a hand to forestall his question. "We did not intend to renege on our promise, Eradan. But I believe you failed to acquire the necessary permission to ask such a thing of us."

A frown of puzzlement crossed Eradan's face. "Permission?" he asked.

"From Gilraen," Elladan explained. "It seems that she was none too pleased at our offer to be his playmates."

Eradan gaped at him in astonishment. "Why would Gilraen not allow you to play with him?"

Elrohir shrugged. "She failed to share her reasons with us. We made one attempt to engage him in play, and Gilraen approached us and practically ushered us from the room. While she was not rude about it, she claimed that we surely had more important things to do than entertain her son, and made it quite clear that we should not make another attempt."

Frowning, Eradan stared at the twins. "That seems very odd to me. I can not think of a reason for her to keep you away from Aragorn." He shook his head. "I am sorry that I did not think to ask Gilraen first, but I did not think there would be any issue with this."

Elladan waved off his apology, turning his attention to other matters. "So, did you encounter any troubles on your patrol?"

"Just the occasional orc attack," Eradan said. "There seem to be a great many in number," he reported. The twins nodded, having noticed the same thing on their patrols. They spent another few minutes discussing Eradan's recent patrol before the man returned to play with Aragorn as promised.

That evening, after Aragorn had been put to bed, Eradan found Gilraen alone in a sitting room, reading by candlelight. Deciding to ask about her reasons for rebuffing the twins, he knocked on the doorframe. "My lady?"

Gilraen looked up at Eradan, and a smile crossed her face. "Yes, please come in Eradan." She waved him to a seat across from her. "What may I do for you?" She had come to like this young ranger that rode with her husband. He seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with her son, and had proven his loyalty to her husband. She wondered what he might want with her, since he rarely spent time in her presence unless she was with the others.

Eradan hesitated before broaching what could be a touchy subject. "My lady, before we left on this last patrol, I asked the sons of Elrond to make an effort to befriend Aragorn." He watched her face as he spoke.

A look of dismay crossed her face as she stared back at him. "I wish you had not done that. Why would you have asked such a thing without conferring with either me or Arathorn?"

"It has not escaped my notice that there are no small children in this place, either Edain or Elven. I wanted Aragorn to have someone to play with. It is not good for a child to grow up with only adults around him." Eradan ducked his head a little. "It is why I have made such an effort to be his friend." A smile crossed his face. "Not that being his friend has been a hardship on me at all. I truly do enjoy playing with him. I simply did not want to be his only friend, as I am gone a great deal of time on patrol."

Gilraen took a deep breath. "I see that your heart is in the correct place, Eradan, but please do not make such decisions about my son and his life without consulting his parents first."

"Why do you not wish them to spend time with him?" Eradan asked. "They have been great friends to me, and I know that they can be great friends and allies to your son as well."

"Allies," Gilraen snorted lightly. "That is the heart of the matter. You men seek to make alliances with powerful warriors or others who can help you when you choose your friendships. I have heard great praise of the sons of Elrond, their skills in fighting, their knowledge of the tactics of battle, the number of orcs they have killed. I do not want allies for my son in his childhood, I want true friends, as you have become."

Eradan stared at her in confusion. "We do not only choose those who can help us when choosing our friends," he protested. "I value the heart of a person, not his fighting skills."

"Perhaps," Gilraen allowed, "but the matter still stands thus. When the time comes for Aragorn to be trained in battle, and I am not so naïve to think that day will not come, I will be glad to have them train him. I would have him learn to fight as best he can, to ensure his survival. They will train him in all the skills he will need, as they have begun training you. He will learn how to fight with a blade and a bow, he will learn all the tactics they can teach him." A distant look came into her eyes as she thought about the sons of Elrond. "While I value their skills and abilities to train him, I do not want him getting too close to them while he is so young. There is something in their eyes at times that chills my heart. They have seen much evil, and allowed too much of it to affect them." She shook off the thought, then turned back to Eradan. "As he will learn history, diplomacy, and healing from Elrond and his advisors, he will learn to fight from those who are best able to train him. But that will come in the proper time. For now, I want him to enjoy being a child."

Trying not to show his frustration, Eradan stared at her. "There is more to them than simply their skills as warriors. They are loyal and protective and can be the greatest friends a person will ever have. You must give him and them, the chance to develop that friendship."

"I must?" Her eyebrows rose with a familiar arch, and Eradan winced. Whether she knew it or not, he was facing his mother, and he had never quite dared talk back to her when she had that expression. He usually ended up being sent to his room when she looked at him like that. "I appreciate that you care about my son, Eradan, and that you only want what is best for him, but I do not appreciate hearing from you how I should raise my son. You would do best to keep such opinions to yourself."

Eradan bowed his head to her. "Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to speak out of turn. I merely thought that he could gain a great deal by making friends with the twins. You do not know what he will miss out on if they are not part of his life."

Gilraen glowered at him, and he lowered his head from the intensity of her gaze. "This is the last I will hear of this, Eradan, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, my lady." It was truly all Eradan could say at that moment.

When he did not say anything further, Gilraen stood and looked down at him. "Good evening, Eradan."

"Good evening, my lady," he replied before she nodded and walked out of the room. He sighed and leaned his head back against his chair. "That did not go well." He stood up and began pacing through the room, not sure what he could now do to ensure that events occurred as they should. History was changing, and he did not know how to fix it. How would this change influence future events? In his time, Gilraen had not protested his friendship with the twins. Indeed, she had even encouraged them to play with him, but Eradan had not been there for Estel, nor Arathorn. Perhaps Gilraen thought they were enough. Estel had not had contact with humans other than his mother as he had grown, but perhaps now that Aragorn had Eradan and Arathorn, Gilraen wanted Aragorn kept more remote from the elves around him. It seemed that she and Aragorn were merely living here as visitors, not as family. Worrying how such a thing would affect the future would do no good, as it seemed this was one thing he could not change, at least, not yet.

Deciding that working out his frustrations was necessary, he strode to his rooms to gather his weapons and made his way to the training fields, hoping the twins would be there.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the course of the next two years, Eradan tried his best to bring the twins and Aragorn closer together, without defying Gilraen outright. If he were playing with the child, and either of the twins happened by, he would invite them to join him. But those instances only pointed out how drastically things had changed. Either Aragorn had picked up on his mother's uneasiness around the twins, or on their discomfort around him, but either way, he was not his usual outgoing self with them nearby. The child would be quieter, clinging to Eradan. Both of the twins, though they tried, could not hide the fact that they were not sure how to play with one so young. Eradan and Arathorn were Aragorn's playmates when they were in Imladris, and when they were not, he had only Gilraen.

Gilraen, though she was quite grateful to the elves for sheltering and protecting them, held her distance from them. She would eat at the family table and discuss her day like any member of the family, but it was clear to all that she and Aragorn were visitors, not truly family. Though he grieved this fact, Eradan did not know what he could do to change things. Speaking with Gilraen did not seem to help, and Arathorn did not see that there was any problem if Gilraen did not consider the elves family. Eradan wished to speak to Elrond about this matter, but did not know how to broach the topic without alerting the elf lord to the fact that he had knowledge of the future that not even the gift of foresight could explain.

During their patrols with the Dúnedain, Eradan continued his training, and was constantly at Arathorn's side. He was even present during meetings between Arathorn and his advisors, though he stayed in the background and simply observed. After each meeting, whether they were discussing tactics, patrol regions, or negotiating with traders, Arathorn would take Eradan aside and they would rehash the meeting. Eradan knew that Arathorn was using it as training, asking what he observed, how he read the people involved, or asking his opinion on the matters up for debate. In these private meetings, Eradan was honest in telling what he had seen and what he thought, and noticed that in many cases, Arathorn shared his opinion. When they disagreed, Arathorn would hear him out and they would enjoy arguing their viewpoints.

Arathorn came to enjoy his private meetings with Eradan. The young man was full of insights and had great powers of observation. The Chieftain valued the man's views and opinions, even when he did not agree with them. Eradan made a wonderful sounding board, and would often help him clarify his own viewpoints, whether by pointing out a detail that had slipped by him, or by arguing the opposing side and forcing Arathorn to look at every possible aspect of the issue to defend his own views. It was quite clear to the others under his command that he was grooming the young ranger to become his second in command. One day, when Aragorn was old enough, he would ask Eradan to join his son's patrols and guide the lad as he learned all he needed to know to take over as the Chieftain of the Dúnedain when Arathorn's time was over. It would take time for Eradan to learn all he needed and grow to become the leader Arathorn knew he could be, but by the time Aragorn was ready, Eradan would make an excellent second and advisor. Arathorn watched over and tended to the younger man's progress with a paternal eye, and was pleased when Eradan responded to him as a son would to his father. They grew quite close during their patrols and it greatly pleased Arathorn to see how completely Eradan had become a part of his family. Aragorn already treated Eradan as an older brother, and Gilraen seemed quite content to have Eradan take on that role.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The summer after Aragorn turned five, Arathorn and Eradan returned to Imladris after a long patrol. They had been gone for six months, patrolling some of the more distant villages of the Dúnedain. Though they were both very weary, they were also quite excited about returning to a place that had become as much home as either of them currently had. As they reined their horses to a stop in front of the Last Homely House, they looked around with anticipation, hoping to see their families.

A fond smile crossed Eradan's face as he saw Aragorn come racing out of the house and launch himself into his father's arms. Dismounting from his own horse, Eradan nodded in respect to Elrond, who had followed Aragorn outside. It seemed that the twins were either not in the valley at the time, or not available, as they did not come to greet him. Eradan smiled as he listened to Aragorn telling his father everything he could think of to say, trying to fit the last six months of his life into a few minutes. Arathorn's eyes drifted to the doorway when he saw Gilraen step into the courtyard. His eyes widened in surprise, and Eradan shifted his gaze away from Arathorn and Aragorn to see what had so surprised Arathorn. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Gilraen fully. She was smiling as she approached her husband and son, but Eradan found he could barely breathe as he saw the rounded contours of her abdomen.

'It cannot be!' As odd as the thought was, it was the only one to cross his mind. He watched in a daze as Arathorn approached his wife and swept her up in a joyful hug. It was all he could do to return the smile when Arathorn turned around to face him.

"Eradan! It seems that our family is growing. Gilraen and I are to have another child!" The Chieftain's face was glowing with pride and love for his wife and the thought that there would be a second child.

Forcing a wide smile, Eradan bowed to them. "Congratulations to you both. I am very happy for the both of you, and you as well," he said, kneeling to hug Aragorn as the child ran to his arms. "It seems that you will be a big brother. Are you ready for such a thing?"

"Yes, Eradan," Aragorn replied happily. "I hope it's a boy. I want a little brother to play with." He did not stay long enough for Eradan to reply, running back to his father's side.

Eradan watched as the family made their way into the house, all speaking excitedly about the news. He felt numb inside, not sure how to respond to this change to the history he had lived. Another child! How would this affect the events to come? Shaking his head sharply, he realized that he could not stand here staring after the others with a stunned look on his face. Grabbing the reins of the horses, he made his way slowly to the stables, unaware that he had been watched by a figure in the shade of the house. He found refuge in the familiar motions of caring for the horses after their journey. When asked, he allowed an elf to take their bags into the house, not wanting to return there just yet.

Once the horses were seen to, he made his way into the gardens, trying to find a place to think and be alone. He could not return to the house until he had his emotions under better control. It was only due to the surprise and the joy in the moment that he had been able to hide his confusion from Arathorn. Although, this news might distract the Chieftain for some time to come, he thought. Finding himself in a secluded corner of the garden, he ducked under the low-hanging branches of a weeping willow and sat down, closing his eyes as he sagged back against the tree. His thoughts were whirling around in his head too quickly for him to even be able to catch one long enough to examine it. This was the last thing he had ever expected, and yet, was it such a far stretch after all? Arathorn and Gilraen had been married now three years longer than they had been in his world. A second child was hardly unheard of for married couples. But the very thought of a younger sibling for Aragorn was enough to make his head spin. How would this affect Aragorn's life? What if they had more children? How would this affect the future of all of Arda?

The thoughts that whirled in his mind distracted him so that he did not hear the approach of another.

"So, am I to understand this was not a happy surprise?"

Eradan opened his eyes and jerked his head up in reaction to the voice. He knew who it was the moment he heard the distinctive voice, and for a long moment, all he could do was stare at the person who had intruded on his solitude. Inclining his head, he gestured for the other to take a seat. Eradan just shook his head in confusion. "I am not sure what to think of this," he confided. "Things have changed beyond anything I could have imagined, and I do not know what effect this will have."

Gandalf stared at the seemingly young man, and saw the dizzying confusion in the man's eyes. They sat in silence for many minutes before the wizard spoke.

"Have you taken the time to study some of the tapestries hanging in the halls of Imladris?" he inquired idly.

Staring at the wizard, Eradan nodded slowly, trying to determine what tapestries had to do with Gilraen's pregnancy. "Yes, on many occasions," he answered politely.

"They are all beautiful, do you not agree?" Gandalf continued. "Each one unique, expertly crafted, but all beautiful in their own ways."

Eradan merely nodded, knowing better than to ask the wizard what he was talking about. If Gandalf had a point to make, he would get to it in his own time, and there was little he could do to hurry it along.

"But have you ever seen one while it was being made?" he asked the man, continuing when Eradan shook his head. "When a tapestry is being made, it can be quite confusing to one who is not familiar with the method. New strands are added, as others are removed. Colors are brought to the front, then relegated to the back, as the weaver sees fit. Only the weaver sees the full picture, knows what the final image will be. Would you go into the weaver's work room and tell her which strands do or do not belong? Could you decide what colors should be used when you do not know what the final tapestry should look like?"

As he saw what Gandalf was trying to say, Eradan sat up straighter. "But I know what the final image should be, in this case," he protested. "And this particular strand did not exist in the original tapestry. What if the addition of one strand has the power to alter the final image beyond recognition, ruining the tapestry?"

"And what if it merely changes the final image?" Gandalf countered. "You are not the weaver of this tapestry, even if you do know more of the final image than most. Perhaps it will have a different image, but be just as beautiful as the original? The weaver of this tapestry is more powerful than any on Arda, Aragorn," Gandalf said softly, speaking the name he seldom did, to get the man's full attention. "Ilúvatar can take the changes that have occurred and weave a tapestry just as beautiful. I can understand that you worry over elements that are different in this world than the one you remember. Knowing that you made the first change, you feel responsible for everything that changes from that point on. But remember that someone else put you here, that was not your doing. Until you discover more about why you were sent back into the past, you must try to live your life the best you can and not worry over things that are out of your control."

"How can I not worry?" Eradan burst out. "There was a good outcome in my lifetime, and I need to be sure that nothing changes to alter that. If too many things change, that outcome may not come to pass, and that would be disastrous for all of Arda!"

Narrowing his eyes, Gandalf stared intently at the man. Eradan paled and dropped his gaze, apparently afraid he had said too much. That was more than Aragorn had said of the events of the future up to now. His curiosity was roused, but he knew that the man would say no more than had already been said, and so Gandalf was forced to let the matter drop for now.

"Just trust," Gandalf said softly. "You are not in control of this life and all the events that occur. Enjoy the time you have with those you love and live the life you have here as fully as you can." He leaned over to meet the man's eyes. "A child is being brought into this world, Aragorn. How can that be a bad thing?"

Aragorn looked up and met his eyes, and Gandalf could see the fight that still raged within him as he tried to decide how he should react. After a long moment, the battle stilled and a peace seemed to settle over the man. "You are correct, as usual," he said with a small smile. "A child is a blessing, and should not be feared. Perhaps I was supposed to have had a sibling, but my father was killed before that could come to pass. Elladan and Elrohir took on the role of my brothers, but it is possible that I was always intended to have a blood sibling. I will take your advice and simply live my life, taking joy in the family that I have in Arathorn, Gilraen, Aragorn and now a new child. It is perhaps not the relationship I would have wished with them, but they do consider me family." A thought occurred to him, and he looked at the wizard sitting across from him. "How did you come to be here at this time? It has been some time since last we spoke."

Gandalf nodded. "Yes, it has been some time. I was traveling through Imladris, only intending to spend a short time here to take some rest. While here, I discovered that Gilraen was with child and knew how confused you would be at the development. Elrond said that you were due to return in a couple of weeks time, so I remained here. I felt you would need someone to talk to who actually understood why you might not be overly happy at the news."

"And I thank you for that," Eradan said, inclining his head. "It has helped. You are correct that no other would understand the reasons behind my mood. As always, you have proven to be a fortunate friend. I am pleased that I can speak candidly with you, as there is no one else in this time that I can trust with the knowledge of my identity. Thank you, my friend."

"You are more than welcome," Gandalf said warmly. "I am pleased you have trusted me with that knowledge. I fear the curiosity would have eaten me alive, otherwise."

Aragorn was able to chuckle at that. "So, will you be staying for awhile, or continuing whatever journey you are now on? You mentioned that you did not intend to stay long."

"I am not heading anywhere in particular," Gandalf said slowly. "I shall remain for another few days, at the least. I have missed our discussions."

"As have I," Eradan replied. He sighed and stood. "And now I suppose I should return to the house. I have a feeling Aragorn will be looking for me, and I need to relay more sincere congratulations to my lord Arathorn."

Nodding, Gandalf rose to his feet. "I think I shall join you, if you do not mind."

Eradan pulled aside a sweep of branches and gestured for Gandalf to precede him through the curtain made by the weeping willow. There was a sense of great joy and celebration when they returned to the house, and though Eradan still felt slightly uncomfortable, he was able to join in the festive atmosphere.

Over the next three months, Arathorn and Eradan remained close to Imladris, only venturing out on short patrols, or meeting with other Dúnedain and delegating much of the more distant lands to other patrols. Arathorn intended to stay near Gilraen during the remainder of her pregnancy, and he also wished to spend some time with his family once the child was born.

While they were in Imladris that summer, Eradan was kept quite busy. He almost began to wish for a brief patrol, just so they could have some rest. The thought made him smile to himself. Eradan's training with Elrond in healing, the twins in battle skills, Glorfindel in tactics, and Erestor in history and diplomacy would have been quite enough to keep every moment of his time occupied, even if he had done nothing else. But Eradan was also quite busy helping to take care of Aragorn and keep him distracted so that he did not insist on taking all of Gilraen and Arathorn's time.

Eradan had quite forgotten how much energy five-year-old children had, and found himself trying to come up with numerous ways to occupy Aragorn. He was able to enlist the twin's help somewhat in this, as Gilraen was rather too distracted to care that her son was spending time with them. The three of them took Aragorn to a shallow pool near the house and taught him to swim. In his joy at playing in the water, Aragorn lost his usual reticence around the elven twins, and with his easy smiles and laughter, broke through their discomfort around him. It was with relief that Eradan watched the beginnings of friendship between the three. Granted, things were bound to be different now, but that was one matter that he felt was finally starting to right itself.

The day finally came when Gilraen went into labor. It fell to Eradan and the twins to keep Aragorn distracted while Elrond delivered the child, and Arathorn paced outside her room. Eradan could not help but think of Arwen and Eldarion as he watched Arathorn pace anxiously, awaiting news of his wife and child. It did not seem so long ago that he had been in the same situation as Arathorn. And yet, he had been here for more than three years now, and had nearly given up hope on the idea that he would be returning home any time soon.

Knowing that those thoughts were dangerous on many levels, Eradan shook his head and forced them back into the corners of his mind. Noticing Elladan watching him, he wondered briefly what his expression might have given away. As there was nothing he could do about it now, and knowing that there was no point in worrying about it, he turned his attention back to the game he was playing with Aragorn. The child was really quite intelligent, and had picked up the rules to a game of tactics quickly. While he did not plan out his moves in advance, but rather played moment to moment, he did know how to play it very well for a five-year-old.

Since the pains of labor were not something a five-year-old needed to hear, Eradan took Aragorn to the main dining room to get a snack to eat and to play their games further from the delivery room. It was many hours after labor had begun before Elrohir sought them out. Eradan looked up expectantly as the younger twin entered the room. He did not even need to ask the question, as the wide smile on the elf's face spoke volumes. Kneeling down in front of Aragorn, Elrohir placed a hand on the child's shoulder.

"You have a new little sister, Aragorn. Would you care to come meet her?"

Aragorn's face lit up. "A sister? Yes, I want to see her!" He took off running down the hallway toward the room that held his mother and new sister.

Following along at a slower pace, Eradan looked over at Elrohir. "Mother and child are both well, then?"

"Yes," Elrohir nodded. "While I am sure Lady Gilraen is quite tired, Ada said the delivery went well." He smiled at Eradan as he added, "And Arathorn was quite enthralled with his new daughter. He was through the door the moment Adar opened it, and holding his daughter a second later."

"Have they named her yet?" Eradan asked as they approached Gilraen's room.

Elrohir shook his head. "Not that I have heard." He gestured toward the doorway. "Would you like to see her for yourself?"

Hanging back hesitantly, Eradan shook his head. "I would not care to intrude upon the family."

"You are family," came a voice from inside the room. "Please come in, Eradan."

Giving Elrohir a slightly nervous smile, Eradan slowly entered the room at Arathorn's request. He saw Gilraen sitting up in her bed with Arathorn sitting on the edge, and Aragorn tucked comfortably between them. Arathorn was holding a small blanket wrapped bundle, and Eradan approached rather cautiously. Looking up, Arathorn caught his eye and smiled. "Would you like to meet the newest member of our family?" He pulled the blanket back slightly, and Eradan ventured closer. "Eradan, this is Lothrin, my daughter."

Kneeling down beside Arathorn, Eradan reached out and lightly touched a finger to the newborn's cheek. She turned her head toward his hand and reached out, grasping onto his finger with her tiny hand. Eradan's heart melted as he saw this sister that he had never had the chance to meet, and he placed his right hand over his heart. "I am pleased to meet you, my lady. I pledge to do anything in my power to protect you from this day forward." He made a solemn vow to watch over this unexpected gift that held his finger and his heart firmly in her little hand.

Chapter Eleven

Elladan shook his head, tracing his finger along the parchment before him. "No, Elrohir, I don't believe that is our best route." He and Elrohir were looking over a map, planning out the route for their next patrol when they heard a young voice behind them.

"There you are!"

The twins turned around as Aragorn bounded into the room and skidded to a halt at their sides.

"Yes, here we are, little one," Elrohir said with a smile, glancing down at the energetic five-year-old. "Were you looking for us?"

Aragorn nodded his head enthusiastically. "You need to come see my sister!"

A chuckle escaped Elladan as he heard the reason Aragorn had been seeking them. The child was enamored with his new sister, and had been dragging every member of the household into their rooms to see her. Elladan was only surprised that it had taken so long for Aragorn to accost them. Lothrin had been born nearly a week ago, and this was the first time Aragorn had asked them.

"Is your sister awake?" Elrohir asked with a raised eyebrow. "I remember your mother at dinner two nights ago reminding you not to bring others to see her when she was trying to sleep."

"She's awake. I checked," Aragorn said. He reached up and grabbed each of the twins by a hand. "Come on. You haven't seen her yet." Leaning backward, he tugged on their hands, urging them to come with him.

Giving in with a chuckle, Elladan and Elrohir allowed the child to lead them from the room. As they were being pulled down the hallway, they encountered Eradan. He watched them approach with a smile. "And where might the three of you be going? As if I did not already know."

"We're going to see Lothrin," Aragorn said, looking up at his 'big brother' with a grin. "You can come too."

"Oh, I can? Why, thank you, young sir." He bowed slightly to Aragorn, making the child giggle at the gentle teasing. Eradan fell into step beside Elladan as they made their way to the rooms occupied by Arathorn and his family. "Has Gilraen approved this visit?" Eradan asked Elladan softly as they walked. He knew that she was not overly fond of the twins.

"I believe she has given up on trying to prevent Aragorn from showing off his new sister to every living being he encounters," Elladan responded just as softly with a look of amusement on his face.

Returning the smile, Eradan only nodded. He had seen Aragorn's excitement over his sister and had been on the receiving end of that excitement more than once. When they reached Gilraen and Arathorn's room, Eradan knocked gently on the doorway.

Looking up at the sound, Gilraen could only smile in defeat as her son led the three others into the room to see Lothrin. She simply looked at Aragorn as he and the others approached her. "More visitors, my son?"

Sitting on the edge of her chair, Aragorn reached out a hand toward the baby on his mother's lap. "Elladan and Elrohir haven't gotten to see her, yet," he explained as his sister latched on to his finger. He smiled down at the infant, then looked up at the elven twins. "Come see," he encouraged, waving them forward.

Glancing at Gilraen, Elrohir took a hesitant step forward and knelt down on the floor to peer into the blankets wrapped around Lothrin. A smile crept across his face as he saw the baby's eyes wide open and focused on him as he came into her field of view. After another quick glance at Gilraen for permission, Elrohir reached forward and lightly touched the baby's other hand. She quickly grasped his finger, and he grinned at the unexpected strength displayed in her grip. "She is quite strong," Elrohir said, looking up to share the moment with his twin.

Gilraen studied the grin on Elrohir's face. He did not now resemble the fierce, frightening warrior she had thought him to be. Perhaps she had been wrong in her judgment of the twin sons of Elrond. "Would you like to hold her?" she asked softly.

Quickly looking up at Gilraen, Elrohir was not sure how to answer. "It has been many years since I have held one so small," he said hesitantly.

"It is not a skill you forget," Eradan said from his position near the doorway. "You will do fine." He leaned back against the wall and nodded in encouragement to the elf.

Seeing the smile on Aragorn's face, Elrohir relented, and Gilraen carefully transferred her daughter to the elf's arms. Elrohir easily shifted the child to a position where her head was supported and she was cradled securely against his chest.

"See?" Eradan said lightly. "It is as I said." A gentle smile crossed his face as he watched Elrohir and Lothrin.

Stepping closer to his brother, Elrohir invited Elladan to see Lothrin as well. Reaching out to touch the small hand that was waving gently back and forth, Elladan smiled as she automatically grabbed onto his finger. "You are right," he said softly. "She is strong for one so small." A soft smile touched his lips as he studied her face. She had the dark hair of the Dúnedain, though her eyes were more blue than grey. Whether that would change as she grew older, only time would tell. "She is lovely," he said, looking over at Gilraen. "She has your beauty, my lady."

"She reminds me much of another infant we once held like this," Elrohir said softly, "so long ago, now." His voice was distant, remembering another time when things were simpler, before darkness had touched their lives.

Eradan saw where this conversation might be heading, and gestured for Aragorn to join him.

"Yes, Eradan?" the child asked as he slowly approached, looking back at the two elves and his little sister, obviously reluctant to leave.

Eradan placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "I believe some tea and cookies would be appreciated. Would you go to the kitchens and request that some be brought to your mother's room?"

A wide grin spread out across Aragorn's face as he turned his attention away from the others. "Of course, Eradan!" As the child darted out of the room, an amused smile curved Eradan's lips. Aragorn loved visiting the kitchens, and would likely stay there until the tray of tea and cookies was ready to be delivered. The cooks enjoyed having the child visit and spoiled him when he was down there, hence Aragorn's enjoyment of the kitchens.

"Of whom do you speak?" Gilraen asked Elrohir and Elladan as they gazed down at her daughter with near-besotted looks upon their faces.

It was Elrohir who answered her, not taking his gaze from the child in his arms. "Our sister, Arwen. It has been many centuries since she was this small, but I still remember the first time I held her like this. She had my heart firmly in her keeping from the first glance." He glanced up and looked sideways at Elladan. "I believe that is true for the both of us, and she knew it quite well as she grew up. She had her ways of getting whatever it was she wished from us."

A chuckle escaped Elladan as he thought back to some of Arwen's childhood exploits. "And somehow, no matter what she came up with, if anything went wrong, it was the two of us who ended up getting chastised for it." He gave the others an innocent expression, as if he had not had anything to do with the trouble that came of those exploits.

Elrohir shot him a wry look. "Perhaps that is because she was but a child and we were full grown at the time? I'm sure Adar expected us to know better."

Giving a shrug, Elladan allowed his point. "True, but who could refuse her when she gazed at them with those eyes of hers? I would swear she could put people under her spell."

Laughing, Elrohir shook his head. "No, we simply did not have the willpower to resist her pleas."

Gilraen watched the by-play between the brothers in great amusement. Though she had seen them teasing and laughing with Eradan over the past few years, she had never seen them quite this open and easy with each other. It seemed merely the mention of this sister returned them to a more carefree time. "Why have I never heard mention of this sister before?" she asked. "Where is she?" As soon as she saw their expressions sober, she regretted her questions. Perhaps there was a reason she had never met this sister, and her questions were bringing up painful memories. "Please, you do not have to answer me," she said to forestall their response. "I did not mean to pry."

Elrohir shook his head as he sat down in a chair with Lothrin still held comfortably in his arms. "No, you were not prying. It was a natural question. Arwen is with our grandparents in Lothlórien. Many years have passed since she resided within these walls for more than short visits."

Seeing that the elves appeared willing to talk about this, Gilraen watched them both. "Why is that?" she asked softly, sensing that she was treading on painful ground.

A sigh escaped Elladan as he chose a seat near his brother. "After our mother's departure across the sea, Arwen was not…comfortable here. It was decided that visiting our grandparents would be best for her. She would find the comfort and healing there that was not possible for her here."

At Gilraen's questioning look, Elrohir elaborated a bit more on his brother's comment. "Things were very difficult for all those of Imladris after our mother sailed. Adar was nearly lost in his grief for a long while, and in our own way, so were we. We were so intent on destroying all those who had hurt our mother, and those of their kind, that we were in no position to offer comfort. In our pain and rage, we had no comfort to give." He sighed slightly as he looked down to the infant in his arms as she wiggled in his arms and waved her hands as if in an effort to lighten his spirit. It was impossible not to smile back at her. "It has been long since those days, but Lothlórien has become her home as much as Imladris. We visit her there and she visits here, but for now, she still chooses to reside with the Lady Galadriel."

Honored that the elves seemed willing to speak of their sister and past difficulties, Gilraen continued the conversation, but directed it toward lighter matters. "Would you tell me more of this sister of yours?" She was rewarded by the soft smiles that crossed the faces of both Elladan and Elrohir.

Inclining his head toward her, Elrohir acknowledged her curiosity and searched his memories as to what to tell Gilraen. "She is our junior by a mere century, and she was the most beautiful child any of us had ever laid eyes upon." A brotherly pride rang clear in his voice as he sought to describe her. "Her beauty only increased as she grew. She is called 'Undomiel', or the Evenstar of our people. It has been said that she is the very likeness of Luthien herself." He grinned down at the infant in his arms and remarked softly to her, "And you are quite the beauty yourself, little one." Her eyes closed in contentment as she turned her face toward the warmth of his body.

"There is much more to Arwen than her beauty." Elladan frowned at his brother. "Do not give the lady Gilraen the impression that a sister of ours is nothing more than a beautiful shell with nothing inside!"

"I would not dare do such a thing," Elrohir retorted, his head snapping up to glare at his twin. "I merely searched for a place to start, and that is the first thing many remark upon." He turned back to Gilraen as he reached down to offer Lothrin his finger to grasp in apology for startling her with his sudden movement. "Please do not take that impression from my words. Arwen would never let me forget it if I allowed anyone to think that of her." A worried expression crossed his face at the thought.

"She has quite the devious mind," Elladan jumped back into the conversation with a grin. "It would be quite amusing to see what she chose to do to Elrohir in retaliation."

"I imagine she learned that deviousness from her older brothers," Eradan said lightly. "It must have been quite interesting growing up with the two of you. You forget, I have heard tales of your childhood from the others here." His smirk and raised eyebrow made it clear what sort of tales he had heard.

"Lies, all lies," Elrohir replied with an airy wave of his hand. "We were the very image of perfection as children." He gazed at Eradan with an air of innocence.

Eradan had to laugh. "That, I find very difficult to believe."

"Why ever would you not believe me?" Elrohir asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced at the young ranger before winking down at the child he held.

A roll of the eyes was Eradan's only response, and he gestured toward them. "You were speaking of your sister, I believe?"

"Ah, yes," Elladan said, before Elrohir could completely sidetrack the conversation. "As we were saying, Arwen has a keen intellect. It was to our detriment when she chose to turn that mind toward retaliation for some… imagined offense."

Eradan grinned a little. While he knew that the twins had doted on Arwen as she grew, she had told him many stories of their lives, and the many instances when she had been less than pleased with her older brothers. "Would you care to share any stories of those instances?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Narrowing his eyes at the young human, Elladan worked to find a story that would not show he and Elrohir in too bad a light. Finding one, he nodded to Eradan, then launched into a tale that soon had all of them laughing.

"Why have I never heard tell of your sister?" Gilraen asked as she caught her breath. It seemed odd to her that with the love and affection they had for their sister, she had never heard mention of her before. A guilty thought crept through her mind that she had hardly ever held more than a brief conversation with either Elladan or Elrohir, and as such, not shown any interest in finding out more about them.

An odd look crossed Elrohir's face as he stared down at Lothrin. Glancing aside at his brother, he spoke slowly. "Our Adar has asked that we do not tell Aragorn of our sister, though I know not the reason for this ban."

Gilraen's brow furrowed as she thought about what possible reason the Lord of Imladris might have for asking such a thing of his sons.

"It is likely that Aragorn would simply never leave you alone once he found out that you also had a little sister," Eradan spoke up, seeking to turn their minds from this particular path. "You have seen how enthusiastic he is about his own sister. I am sure he would start pestering you to have Arwen return so he could meet her. I do not think he fully grasps the concept that little sisters eventually grow up, so he might be expecting another child, like his own sister. Do not fear. We will not mention her to Aragorn in order to spare you his…excitement." The knowing smile on Eradan's face lightened the moment and turned their minds away from the puzzle of Elrond's motivations.

Looking over at Elrohir making faces at Lothrin, Elladan stood and approached his brother. "I think you have monopolized enough of this little one's time. I believe it is my turn to hold her." Speaking of Arwen's childhood had aroused a sense of nostalgia in Elladan, memories of a time when their lives were simpler, more peaceful. For the moment, all he wished to do for the afternoon was return to that peaceful time and play with this little one, and Aragorn, when he returned.

Elrohir glanced at his brother, seeing the determination in his expression, and with a great deal of reluctance, handed the baby over. Elladan gently cradled the child and returned to his own seat, lightly tracing his fingers along her arms as she did her best to grab at those fingers.

Watching the twins with her daughter, Gilraen was amazed anew at the tenderness she saw in them. For the first time, she saw more than the warriors she knew them to be. They had shown how much they loved their family as they spoke of their sister, and she saw how gentle they were with her daughter. From this day forward, she would have no objections to these two remarkable elves being a part of her children's lives.

It was only a few moments later when Aragorn returned with one of the elves from the kitchen. Gilraen nodded to acknowledge the elven woman, and could not help but grin to herself as the woman broke into a broad smile at seeing Elladan cooing over the infant in his arms. The elleth smiled at Gilraen and settled the tray of tea and cookies on a nearby table before leaving the room.

"Nana, may I have a cookie?" Aragorn asked, gazing longingly at the tray.

"You may have one cookie," Gilraen said firmly. "I believe it is quite likely you have had several cookies as you waited in the kitchens."

He gave her a sheepish grin that confirmed her guess, and reached for the one allotted cookie, then headed over to sit on the arm of Elladan's chair so that he could see his sister. "Would you like a cookie?" he asked Elladan as he approached him. "I could get you one."

Giving the child an indulgent smile, Elladan shook his head. "Not at the moment, thank you."

Lothrin only managed to stay awake for another few minutes, and soon drifted off to sleep in Elladan's arms. He held her for awhile more before Gilraen claimed the child and laid her down in her cradle. She shooed the others out of the room so that they would not wake Lothrin, and watched in amusement as Aragorn led them all down the hall to his playroom. He would be quite happy to have their undivided attention for as long as they could give it.

The thought occurred to her that her children would be quite lucky indeed, growing up with three such loving and attentive 'big brothers'.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the years progressed and the children grew, Gilraen was quite glad that she had agreed to allow the twin sons of Elrond to have a place of prominence in the lives of her children. Arathorn and Eradan were often gone for months at a time, and while the twins did accompany them on some patrols, they were in Imladris more than the rangers were. Under their care, Aragorn thrived, knowing that they would always make time for him, and he could go to them for anything. And they, like Aragorn and Eradan, doted on Lothrin as a little sister, allowing her to grow up, safe and secure in the knowledge that she was loved and none would ever harm her in the haven of Imladris. Her daughter grew to become a bright, inquisitive child radiating joy and innocence, bringing smiles and laughter to all that came into contact with her.

All too soon for Gilraen, Aragorn began training with the twins and Glorfindel on how to fight and how to handle weapons. It was painful for her to see her little boy wielding his practice sword and learning how to shoot a bow, but she knew it was necessary. The skills that he learned here would save his life when he left this protected valley. So Gilraen watched his lessons and told him how proud she was when he hit the target for the first time, or learned a new maneuver with his sword. And she was proud, as he showed a great skill from a very early age. She only wished they lived in a time of peace, so that her son's life would not one day depend on how well he was able to fight.

Lothrin adored her brother, and followed him around everywhere, even to the training fields when she could. Gilraen made sure that she kept far back from those on the field, however, and learned to sit still as she watched. Though she did not like the idea, she felt that Lothrin would one day ask to be trained as Aragorn was. Arathorn, she was sure, would approve of the idea, knowing that the life of a woman of the Dúnedain was not an easy one. His father's heart would rest easier, knowing that she would be able to protect herself, even as he hated the necessity.

Gilraen knew that Arathorn regretted all the time he had to spend on patrol, away from his family, but it was his duty, something she had known when she married him. Still, her heart was in her throat every time she watched he and Eradan ride off on patrol, wondering if that would be the last time she saw either of them alive.

Just after Aragorn's tenth birthday, Gilraen heard hurried hoof beats and anxious voices as she rested in the gardens. When she heard the voice of Elladan, sounding worried, she rose and nearly ran toward the front of the house. Elladan and Elrohir had joined Arathorn and Eradan on patrol only a few days earlier. They were not due to return for another four months. If they were here now, that could only mean trouble. As she rounded the corner, she saw Elladan lifting a limp form down from Elrohir's horse. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw the bloodied clothing of a ranger. It was only as Elladan turned to carry him toward the healing wing that Gilraen saw the man's face. A rush of relief swept through her as she realized that it was not Arathorn, but a mere second later, she recognized Eradan, and her breath caught. She rushed to follow Elladan, but Elrohir caught her arm as she entered the house.

"What happened?" she asked the younger twin, searching his face for signs of what had transpired. A corner of her mind noted the dirt and faint scratches across one cheek and the disheveled appearance of his hair and clothing. "Is he…?" She could not finish the thought, and looked around for any others that had ridden out from Imladris with these three.

"He's alive," Elrohir assured her, glancing worriedly after Elladan and Eradan. He saw the fear in her face as she looked around, obviously wondering where her husband was. "Arathorn is well," he hastened to say, before he explained further. "There was a battle with a great number of orcs. Your husband sustained only a few small scratches, and there were a few other minor injuries among the rangers. Eradan, however, was injured more seriously. Knowing that he needed more attention than could be provided out in the wild, Arathorn sent us to bring him to our adar."

"How seriously was he injured?" Gilraen asked worriedly. Elrohir hesitated as he looked back toward the healing wing. Her voice hardened abruptly and she straightened her back, standing tall and stiff. "Tell me, Elrohir. We are the closest he has to family. I need to know what to expect."

Closing his eyes briefly before focusing back on her face, Elrohir nodded. "Very well. Eradan has become a fierce warrior, and at first it seemed that no orc could get near him without being cut down. His skill made him a target for the orcs, and they swarmed him so that not even he could fight them all off. I did not see what happened, as the orcs had also swarmed Elladan and me. When we finally fought our way through our enemies, we saw a cluster of orcs surrounding a body on the ground." The memory of seeing Eradan being beaten and kicked swept through his mind. The ranger had been limp and unmoving, making no move to defend himself, and Elrohir had not known if Eradan was even still alive until he and Elladan had killed all of the orcs surrounding the man.

Elrohir stopped for a moment and worked to control his emotions before continuing, deciding to simply list Eradan's injuries. "He has taken a blow to the head and has spent much of the time since the battle unconscious. Several ribs are broken, though he was lucky that the ribs were not driven inward. There are more bruises covering his body than can be counted, and likely many inside that are hidden from our eyes. But the most worrisome injury is to his leg. He was felled by a deep blow to his upper leg. The blade struck bone, and laid open half the length of his leg. It was impossible to thoroughly clean it, so we packed it with healing herbs, wrapped it, and rode home as quickly as we could." A sigh escaped Elrohir as he shook his head. "I fear infection has set in. It is our hope that Adar can treat the infection. If he cannot, Eradan could lose his leg…or his life." The last few words were whispered, Elrohir apparently not wanting to think that the infection could kill the young man.

Gilraen had worked to keep her face impassive through Elrohir's recitation of the battle and listing of Eradan's injuries, but she could not stop the gasp that escaped at his last words. Her hand flew to cover her mouth in her shock. She did not want to consider the possibility that Eradan would die. She dearly hoped he would survive, but something else Elrohir had said caught her attention. "Lose his leg?" her voice shook. Though she had known rangers in the past that had survived such injuries, she could not bear the thought of Eradan being forced to go through the rest of his life with only one leg. "He is too young," she whispered. "He would be unable to patrol, or to fight to protect his people. It will kill him."

Elrohir placed a hand on her shoulder supportively. "We have hopes that with Adar's help, he will be able to keep his leg and will be able to heal."

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Gilraen lowered her hand, squared her shoulders, then nodded to Elrohir. "May I see him?"

With a nod, Elrohir directed her down the hallway. "Adar is likely treating his injuries, but you may be allowed to see him for a moment." Leaving her outside in the hall, Elrohir entered the room to speak with Elrond. He returned in a few minutes, gesturing for Gilraen to enter. Leading her to a place near Eradan's bed, he asked her to go no closer. They were still in the process of treating Eradan's injuries, and they did not want anyone getting in the way.

Nodding her understanding, Gilraen let her eyes roam over Eradan's still form. Most of his clothing had been removed so that his injuries could be treated, and Gilraen's eyes widened as she took in the damage that had been inflicted upon him. Most of the skin that she saw was black and blue, and even his face was horribly bruised. Though she was unsure she wanted to see the full extent of his injuries, she forced her gaze downward to where Lord Elrond was working steadily on cleaning out the infected wound on Eradan's leg. She was able to suppress the gasp that wanted to escape as she gazed at the jagged wound extending down from just below Eradan's right hip nearly to his knee. Elrohir had told her it was bad, but she had had no idea how bad it truly was. If they were forced to take Eradan's leg, he would lose everything from the hip down. She was sure such an action would destroy Eradan. Noting that her hands were clenched into fists, she took a long breath to calm herself. Looking up at Lord Elrond, she found him watching her. "Can you heal him?" she asked softly.

"It is too soon to tell," the elf lord answered, his eyes compassionate as he held her gaze. "But I believe so."

"I will leave you to it, then," she replied. "He could be in no better hands." She nodded to Elrond, then turned to leave the room, stopping in the hallway to gather the shreds of her calm mien before striding off to find her children. They would soon hear of Eradan's return and his injuries, and she must keep them from rushing to the healing ward and getting in the way of the healers.

-----------------------

Elrond watched Gilraen leave the room, then turned his attention back to Eradan's leg. A sidelong glance showed that Elrohir was still standing near the foot of the bed. "You should have a healer look at your arm, my son."

Elrohir started as he looked back at his father. His mind had obviously been focused on the man on the bed. "My arm?" He glanced automatically down at his right arm, before looking back at his father with a guilty expression.

Raising his head to gaze at his son, Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Your brother informed me that you were cut with an orc blade. Elladan is having his wounds seen to, so please humor me and do the same. I will inform you of Eradan's condition when I am finished."

Releasing a sigh, Elrohir raised his hands in surrender, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the bandage under his clothing. "Very well, Adar. I will do as you have asked. I will be back as soon as I am done, however." His steps were slow and reluctant as he moved toward the doorway.

A nod was Elrond's only response as he turned his attention back to treating the wound. He knew how close his sons had grown to the young man under his care, and would not deny them the chance to be at his side, after their own wounds were tended. Elrond would not allow himself to think how fond he had also become of the man over the years. As a healer, he needed to keep his distance while treating his patients. It took some time to clean the wound, excise the infected tissue, and wrap Eradan's leg. The injury would not be stitched until he was sure the infection was gone. Elrond only hoped he could eradicate the infection. The injury had occurred over a day ago, and a fever was already raging in the young man's body. Directing one of the other healers to make a tea to bring down the fever and fight infection, he leaned over the man, placing a hand on his brow. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on directing some of his strength into the man, working to bolster Eradan's flagging strength and help his body fight the battle raging within.

As the healing connection formed between them, Elrond frowned. What he found in the man's mind confused him. Though he was unable to read actual thoughts, he could pick up on sensations, impressions of the man, and what he found was not what he had expected. The pain had, of course been expected, but not the sense of familiarity that had flowed through Eradan as Elrond touched his mind. In the eight years that he had known Eradan, Elrond had never had to use the healing trance with him, so Eradan should not have had such an experience before. Yet a sense of relief and familiarity had surged through the man and he had relaxed back into the comfort and ease that Elrond offered as if he had been through this many times before. Going deeper into the man's mind in order to try and resolve the unexpected behavior, Elrond encountered a sense of age and experience that did not make sense, given the man's relatively young age of twenty-eight. It seemed to him in that moment, that he was in touch with a man of a least a century in age. Eradan moaned softly and turned his head away from Elrond's hand, as the mental touch prodded him toward wakefulness. Pulling his hand away, Elrond pushed the mystery aside and stared down at the man as Eradan's eyes opened a slit, glancing around him.

Watching the man's glazed eyes dart around the room without focusing on any one thing, Elrond realized that he was unaware of his surroundings, likely seeing something that only existed in his mind.

"Eradan?" he asked softly, trying to direct the man's attention to him. "I need you to look at me for a moment." He watched Eradan's face closely, studying the way his eyes roamed the room for awhile longer before they slowly drifted toward him to focus somewhat blearily on his face.

"Ada?" Eradan's voice was a hoarse whisper. "Where…?" he seemed unable to form a complete question as his voice trailed off and his eyes once again roamed the room.

Elrond sighed as he watched the confusion flicker across Eradan's face. It seemed he was truly lost in a world of his own, looking for the father he had lost eight years ago. Glancing up as one of the other healers handed him a cup of tea for Eradan, Elrond nodded his thanks. "Eradan, I am going to help you sit up for a moment, and I need you to drink this tea. It will help you recover from your injuries and fight the fever. Do you understand me?"

Glazed eyes drifted back toward Elrond's face, and Eradan nodded slightly. "Yes," he whispered again. His gaze flicked toward the cup, and he made a face. "Nasty teas."

Unable to suppress the surprised smile that broke across his face, Elrond shook his head slightly. "That might be so, but I need you to drink it all. It will help."

"Yes, Ada," Eradan replied. Elrond could not help but note that he sounded a good deal younger than normal, his responses seeming as something a child would say. Careful not to allow the frown over Eradan's confused state to cross his face, Elrond gently helped the ranger into a sitting position. Holding the cup to Eradan's lips, he watched carefully as the young man finished the tea quickly, then turned his head away with a grimace. "Nasty," he said. "Hurts."

Studying Eradan's face, Elrond noted the pallor of his skin, and the faint sheen of sweat that covered his skin. Moving to sit upright had aggravated his injuries, causing the man a great deal of pain that showed clearly in his expression and the short, nearly panting breaths. Handing the cup to another, Elrond gently lowered the man to lie fully back in the bed. Placing a hand on the man's brow, he nudged him back toward sleep. Rest and allowing the teas and healing herbs to work was the best thing for him now. Once the ranger was asleep again, Elrond cleaned up his work area and sat back to watch Eradan sleep. All they could do at the moment was wait.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was several hours before the injured ranger woke again. By that time, Gilraen, Elladan and Elrohir had all returned, wanting to be there when he next woke. They had all expressed concern when Elrond had told them of Eradan's confusion, though both of his sons had confirmed that during Eradan's few periods of wakefulness he had been confused and disoriented.

When Eradan turned his head and moaned softly in his sleep, Elladan came back inside from the balcony, and they all gathered near. That was the first sound he had made since falling asleep earlier. Elrond took a seat near the head of Eradan's bed. Reaching out, he felt the still fevered brow, and the young man turned toward his hand. "Eradan?" Elrond asked softly. "Can you hear me?"

A low moan was his answer as Eradan seemed to struggle toward awareness. It was several long moments before glazed eyes opened once more and a confused look crossed Eradan's face. "Ada?" he asked softly. His eyes roamed the room randomly as before, but stopped and widened when they found Gilraen. "Naneth?" he asked, staring hard at her face. "You're alive?" Confusion suffused his face as he stared at her, then tears formed in his eyes. "I miss you," he said quietly. "You don't know how much I've missed you. Why did you have to leave me?"

Tears fell from Gilraen's eyes as she heard the plaintive tone in his voice. She looked helplessly back up at Elrond, and he nodded to her. Reaching out, she took one of Eradan's hands in her own. "Hush now. I'm here. I haven't left you. All is well."

His hand tightened on hers and he seemed to be struggling to sit up, before falling back to the bed with a gasp of pain. Looking back to Elrond, the timbre of his voice shifted to seem that of a child. "Ada, it hurts. Make it stop!" Tears fell freely down his cheeks as he held tight to Gilraen's hand. "I promise I won't do it again. Just make it stop hurting."

Elrond gestured for Elrohir to prepare a tea to help with the young man's pain, then turned back to keep him talking in an attempt to distract him from his pain. "You promise you won't do what again?" He reached out to stroke the flushed face, trying to impart some of his own calm to the man.

"I won't follow Elladan into the tree again. I know you told me not to follow them, Ada. I thought I could do it, but I fell. I promise I'll be good and do as you say, but please make it stop." The ranger was begging Elrond to take away his pain, lost in his mind, and apparently thinking he was still a child. His memories were obviously confused, however, as he had not met Elladan until he was a grown man of twenty.

"I will do everything I can to help you," Elrond promised. He looked up as Elrohir approached with a cup of the healing tea. "If I help you to sit up, I need you to drink some more tea. It will help ease your pain. Will you do this for me?"

Eradan nodded, and Elladan and Elrond helped ease him into a sitting position while Elrohir aided the man in drinking the tea. The movement obviously took a lot out of him, as he was shaking and pale by the time he was lowered back to his bed. They remained with him for awhile longer, enduring more bouts of tears and delirious ramblings before the man mercifully drifted off to sleep again, worn down by his illness and injuries.

Gilraen sighed and ran a shaky hand back through her hair. Looking up, she caught Elrond's eye. "He did not know us, my lord."

"No, he did not," Elrond agreed. Laying a hand on the man's forehead, Elrond shook his head as he felt the heat emanating from Eradan. "Between his fever and the head injuries, he is not aware of his surroundings. His memories are confused between past and present."

"Will he recover from this?" Gilraen asked, clasping her hands in her lap and twisting the material of her skirt. A glance down at Eradan showed how hard she found it to see him in this condition.

"Once his fever breaks and he heals from his head injuries, I fully expect him to return to the young man we have always known," Elrond said reassuringly. He would not mention his fear that the head injury could possibly have caused permanent damage. Time would tell how quickly the man recovered from his myriad injuries. "It will be some time before he wakes again. Perhaps you would prefer to join your children?"

"Yes, I believe I shall." Gilraen stood and smoothed out her skirt before walking slowly from the room. She looked briefly back at the ranger with a worried expression before striding down the hallway.

Looking toward his sons, Elrond asked a question for which he already knew the answer. "When you were bringing him home, you said his thoughts were confused as they are now?"

Nodding soberly, Elladan replied. "Yes. At times he seemed to know who we were, but he drifted between past and present then as well, referring to events that never happened." Hearing his father repeat questions worried Elladan. "Do you truly think he will recover his mind, or were you only attempting to placate Gilraen?"

Brushing a lock of hair away from the sleeping man's face, Elrond hesitated a long moment before replying. "I have hope that he will recover completely, but only time will prove me right or wrong. All we may do now is wait and treat his injuries as best we can." Standing slowly, he glanced at his sons, standing at the foot of Eradan's bed. "You will stay with him for a time?"

Studying his father, Elladan nodded, seeing the concern so close to the surface of his emotions. "Yes, we will keep him company and call you if he wakes again. Take some rest, Adar. We will take care of Eradan." Moving forward, he placed a hand on his father's shoulder to encourage him.

"Thank you," Elrond said gratefully, placing a hand over Elladan's. "He is in good hands with you both." With a nod at them, he strode out of the room to find something to eat.

Elladan and Elrohir sat with Eradan for several hours before Elrond returned and relieved them of the duty of watching over the injured ranger. Elladan could not stay away long, and returned after a couple of hours. Elrohir returned only an hour later. The three watched over Eradan, changing bandages and poultices as needed, in an attempt to combat the infection in his leg, and gave him teas to fight the fever and infection when he was awake. When Eradan's fever finally broke in the middle of the night, they all breathed a sigh of relief. Once assuring himself that the man was sleeping peacefully, Elrond ordered the twins to their own beds for the remainder of the night. After a short time, he sought his own bed, with orders that he be awoken if Eradan's condition changed, or if he woke.

All three returned to the healing room in the early hours of the morning, and were pleased to see that Eradan's color was better and there was no sign that the fever had returned. They were assured that he had slept the night through, and had not woken. As the healer who had watched over him made his report, a faint sound emanated from the sleeping man, and they all turned toward his bed.

Taking a seat near Eradan's bed, Elrond reached forward and laid his hand on the man's brow. "Eradan?" he asked softly.

With a soft moan, Eradan turned his head toward Elrond's voice. It was a long moment before he opened his eyes, blinking owlishly at the light in the room. Elrond was encouraged to see that his eyes were clear, not glazed over as they had been earlier. His hopes sank at the man's first words, however.

As Eradan focused his gaze on Elrond, he seemed confused. "Ada? What happened?" His gaze roamed the room, resting briefly on Elladan and Elrohir before coming back to rest on Elrond as he waited for an answer to his question.

"What do you remember, Eradan?" Elrond asked softly. He would not answer until he found out where the man's mind was.

At the question, the man gave Elrond a blank look, as if he did not know his own name, and Elrond grew quite concerned as the silence dragged on. After a long moment, memory flashed deep within the man's eyes. Letting out a long exhale, Eradan brought a shaky hand up to rub over his face, as if clearing the fog from his mind. "Forgive me, my lord," he murmured. "It seems my mind is slow to awake this morn." He winced slightly from the pain caused by moving his arm. Glancing down at his body and gingerly testing his range of movement, he groaned softly before glancing back up at the others. "I vaguely remember a battle, but very little after that. Can you tell me what happened?" His gaze flew to the twins, "Arathorn!" He tried to sit up, but Elrond's hand on his shoulder prevented the motion. However, the very act of attempting to rise had awakened the pain in his ribs, and he sank back against the bed, panting slightly from the pain.

"Arathorn is well," Elladan hastened to reassure the man, stepping closer and laying a hand on his arm. "You sustained the worst injuries, so Arathorn had us return here with you. Your injuries needed the aid of our adar."

Resting his head back against his pillow with his eyes closed, Eradan released a sigh of relief. "I am glad to hear that he is well." Opening his eyes, he glanced over at Elrond. "How soon may I return to them? I do not like the idea of resting here while my chieftain is on patrol."

Giving his patient a firm look, Elrond shook his head. "You will not be returning to patrol any time soon, young man. Your injuries need time to heal." Deciding that the man was aware enough, and that his mind was no longer affected by the concussion, he proceeded to inform him of the numerous hurts he had sustained in battle. Eradan's face paled as he heard Elrond describe the wound to his leg. As a healer in training, he was well aware of the possible consequences of such an injury.

"How serious is the infection?" he asked warily, holding Elrond's gaze. "Will you be able to save my leg?" There was a tremor in his voice that he was unable to fully suppress, and he clamped his lips shut after asking the question.

Elrond raised a hand in reassurance. "For the moment, the infection is under control. I have hope that we can eradicate it, but you need to understand that there was serious damage to the muscles in your leg. I do believe now that we will not have to take your leg, but it will be some time before you will be healed enough to leave this place. Your leg will be much slower to heal than other injuries you have sustained."

Eradan exhaled slowly, his expression serious. "As long as I do not lose my leg, I can be patient and allow it to heal." His voice held a note of relief mixed in with his worry.

"Good," Elrond said, studying the man's face. Seeing that he understood all that he had been told, Elrond nodded in satisfaction. Apparently, his initial fears that Eradan's mind might have been permanently damaged were unfounded. "I will arrange for a tray to be brought to you. It has been some time since you last had a meal, I believe." Standing, Elrond made his way out of the room to arrange for a light meal to be brought in.

As the elf lord left the room, Eradan turned his gaze back to Elladan and Elrohir. "Since I seem to have so little memory of the battle and its aftermath, perhaps you could help fill in the gaps?"

With a brief exchange of glances between the brothers, Elrohir began telling the tale of the battle. He described the orcs surrounding Eradan and the twins, of he and Elladan fighting free and finding the man on the ground, surrounded by a circle of enraged orcs. Elladan picked up the tale, telling how the last of the orcs had been slain, and that it had quickly become clear that Eradan's injuries needed more care than could be given in the wild with their limited supplies. Arathorn had ordered them to take the injured man back to Imladris with all haste, knowing that Elrond was likely the only chance they had of saving Eradan's leg. Elrohir chimed in then, speaking of the journey home, bringing him to Elrond, and then the long hours tending him through the fever and delirium.

Once their tale was finished, Eradan glanced back and forth between them. "I thank you. It would seem that once again, I owe my life to you." He placed his hand over his heart and inclined his head toward them.

"There is no need for thanks," Elrohir said, leaning forward in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees. "You have become as a brother to us, and there is no debt owed among brothers." He noticed a look of both confusion and awe on the face of the man in the bed. "It seems we have never said those words before, but if that is the case, they are long overdue. You are a brother to us, Eradan, and our lives would be greatly diminished were we to lose you."

A gleam in Eradan's eyes hinted at the tears that had filled them at Elrohir's words. "Thank you," he said again, his voice husky. "That is how I consider the both of you, but I could not say the words, not knowing if they were welcome. You honor me with your friendship, my brothers."

Before any of them could say anything more, Elrond returned with a tray of broth, bread and a glass of milk. Elladan and Elrohir helped the man into a sitting position, placing pillows behind his back to support him, aware of the pain his broken ribs would be causing him. Nodding his thanks, Eradan began to slowly eat the food he had been given, knowing that it would not be wise to eat as quickly as he might wish. It had been some time since he had last eaten, and his stomach would not take kindly to a hurried meal. When he had eaten his fill, he asked to stay in a sitting position as he was in no hurry to go back to sleep.

Elrohir excused himself and returned shortly with Gilraen, Aragorn and Lothrin in tow. "You have some visitors," he said with a smile as Lothrin rushed towards Eradan's bed, followed more slowly by Aragorn. "They have been quite anxious to see you upon learning that you were home."

Gilraen stopped Lothrin from trying to climb into Eradan's lap to give him a hug, mindful of his injuries. "Careful, my love," she cautioned the four year old. "Eradan is hurt, you need to be careful of him."

Seeing the stubborn tilt of Lothrin's chin, Eradan knew she was determined to make her way over to him. Reaching out with a hand, he stroked her dark hair back from her face. "Your mother is correct, little one. As much as I would love to hold you, I fear I must wait a while until I am feeling better."

"But you will get better?" Aragorn asked abruptly before his sister could say anything. He had hung back a little, studying the man in the bed rather than rushing forward as his little sister had done.

Eradan turned his head to meet Aragorn's eyes. "Yes, Aragorn. I will get better. Lord Elrond tells me that I will be here for quite awhile as I recover. So you will be stuck with me for a time. What do you think of that?" Eradan's voice was calm as he worked to soothe Aragorn's fears.

Aragorn's eyes roamed over Eradan as if the ten year old were trying to catalogue the injuries that might be hidden by the man's clothes, then turned his worried gaze back to meet Eradan's. "You won't be much fun if you're stuck in here," Aragorn said cheekily, trying to hide his fear for the man he thought of as an older brother.

"Aragorn!" Gilraen scolded as Eradan chuckled. Her face flushed slightly at her son's manners.

Waving a hand to reassure Gilraen that he was not offended, Eradan grinned at Aragorn. "I do not plan to remain in this bed any longer than necessary," he offered. "We will have time to spend together, even on the archery and sparring fields. But until the time that the Lord Elrond sees fit to release me from these rooms, perhaps you could bring some books or your studies here and keep me company?"

With a nod, Aragorn agreed, stepping closer to the bed now that he was more comfortable with Eradan. Lothrin decided that it was time that someone paid attention to her and spoke up. "And you can play with me, too!"

"It would be my honor to play with you as well, little flower," Eradan said playfully, and Lothrin rewarded him with a broad smile.

They remained for a time, visiting with Eradan and reassuring themselves that he would be well. When Gilraen started noticing lines of pain around his eyes and mouth, she stood and shooed the children from the room, assuring them that they could return later to play with Eradan. Once they had left, Elrohir crossed to the herb cabinet and began pulling out the necessary ingredients for a willow-bark tea to help ease Eradan's pain. After drinking the tea, Eradan allowed the twins to help him lie back in bed, and he was asleep in minutes, being worn out by his visitors and the pain.

Eradan was confined to his bed for the next few days, and if he were honest with himself, he would admit that he did not feel up to making an attempt to leave. Even sitting upright was not something he could accomplish on his own without excruciating pain from his ribs. The surface cuts and scrapes began to heal, but the broken bones were still very painful, and would take some time to heal. Elrond finally declared that the infection had been eradicated, and stitched up the wound in Eradan's leg.

Though he could not yet walk on his own, after days of being cooped up in the healing room, Eradan was anxious to escape the interior of the house. After pleading with Elrond, he was finally given permission for a brief trip to the balcony to enjoy the warm spring sun. Elladan and Elrohir helped him out to the balcony with his arms draped over their shoulders, as he could not put any weight on his injured leg, and eased him down to sit on a bench. They placed a pillow behind his back, another one under his outstretched leg, and gave him a blanket to cover up with to chase off any chill in the air. The loose robe he was dressed in was warm enough for the interior of the house, but might not be enough in a cool breeze.

Closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against a wall behind the bench, Eradan let the sun's warmth wash over him. The trip to the balcony had been more painful than he had expected, and the short trip had tired him, but he would not let anyone see just how much, or he might not be allowed out again. When he felt he would be able to speak without revealing how much his leg and ribs hurt, he opened his eyes and looked back at the twins. "Thank you. You do not know what it means to me to escape outdoors for even a short time."

"You are quite welcome," Elladan said, studying the pallor of the man's face. Though he tried to hide it, it was quite obvious the move had caused him pain. "Would you like me to bring you a cup of tea?"

Eradan sighed. "Yes, please." He should have known better than to try to hide his pain from them. They knew him far too well for that.

Inclining his head, Elladan retreated into the house, leaving Elrohir on the balcony to keep Eradan company. Since Eradan was not in the mood to speak, he gazed out over the railing and took a deep breath of the fresh air. The sun did feel wonderful on his face, he had to admit. It was worth the pain to get out of his bed for awhile. There was a chill to the air, as it was only mid-March, and Eradan draped the blanket around himself. But no mere chill would chase him away from the balcony so soon. He gazed out over the valley, seeing signs that spring would soon be here, though no green grass or fresh blossoms had appeared as yet.

When Elladan returned to the balcony, a familiar figure trailed behind him. "Eradan, you have a visitor," the elf said with a smile, handing the tea to the reclining ranger.

"Mithrandir!" Eradan exclaimed in surprise upon seeing the figure following Elladan. "I did not know you were here. When did you arrive?" He sat up straighter and smiled at his old friend.

"Only this morning," the wizard replied, crossing the balcony to lean back against the railing near the wounded ranger, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling his gaze on the man. "I have been visiting with Elrond, and he told me you were here. He explained what happened. How are you doing?"

"I have been better," Eradan answered honestly. "But I am doing well enough." He looked over at the twins. "Do you mind if I speak with Mithrandir alone? It has been some time since we have spoken."

"Of course not," Elrohir replied easily. "We will leave you two alone to visit." He gave Eradan a stern look. "If you start feeling poorly, do not hesitate to inform Mithrandir and he can summon us." He stared down at the man, knowing how reluctant he usually was to admit to pain.

"I will inform Mithrandir if I need help," Eradan promised. As he saw Elladan stare pointedly at the tea he had yet to drink, he raised the cup to his lips and took a long drink.

With a nod of satisfaction, Elladan turned to leave, followed by Elrohir. Mithrandir moved to take a seat on a bench near Eradan, waiting long enough for the elves to move out of earshot before speaking.

"So, how are you truly doing, Aragorn?" The wizard gave him a long, scrutinizing look.

Aragorn sighed, holding Mithrandir's gaze and dropping the guise of Eradan. "It has been difficult," he admitted. "When I woke, I did not remember that I was supposed to be someone else. I am afraid I reacted as myself and not Eradan. I think I had Elrond quite worried when I kept referring to him as 'Ada'." He waved a hand slightly to reassure the wizard when he saw the concern on his face. "Do not worry, Mithrandir. I was suffering from a high fever and a concussion at the time. They attributed my words to delirium. I am only grateful I did not say anything that truly gave me away." He shrugged, then winced at the pull on his ribs and took another sip of his tea. "So, what brings you here?" he asked.

"A group of dwarves have come to me to ask my aid in a certain task," Mithrandir said, gazing at the ranger resting before him. "I had one in mind to help them carry out their task, but then thought of you. Perhaps you would have some advice in this, or would be willing to join in their quest?" He gestured to Aragorn's leg. "Well, that had been only a thought. It is quite obvious now that you will not be healed enough to join their quest."

A jolt of recognition ran through Aragorn. "Of course," he breathed out. "I had nearly forgotten that it was time for that." The Ring was about to be found! His breathing was a little unsteady as he spoke. "If you plan to ask the one you asked in my history, I will tell you that your instincts are correct. I would not have joined the quest even had I been well enough to do so. There will be trials ahead, and things will not all go according to plans, but what ever does? I could not interfere in matters, as I had nothing to do with this in the original history."

Mithrandir nodded, having anticipated such an answer from the man. "I plan to send the dwarves to the home of Bilbo Baggins," he said, watching the man's eyes for a clue as to whether he was making the same choice this time that he had before.

Aragorn inclined his head slightly in acceptance, and Mithrandir settled back into his seat with a sigh of relief. "So, they succeed, then?"

"Do not get complacent, wizard." Aragorn stared at the wizard with a stern look in his eyes, bringing Mithrandir sitting straight up in surprise. "As I said, this journey will not be an easy one. It is full of dangers ahead, none of which I can warn you about. You will need to be on alert if you wish this to succeed. There is no guarantee that things will happen this time as they did before. History has already changed as a result of my actions. My only hope is that by having the same people involved, there is at least a chance that events will repeat. The rangers had no part in this tale, so perhaps the changes I have made will not have an affect."

Feeling chastened, Mithrandir studied the man before him, looking past the youthful exterior and seeing the strong, noble man behind it. "Forgive me," he said, bowing his head toward the man. "I did not intend to seem as if I am taking this journey lightly. I am well aware that it could be perilous. The territory we will be passing through can be quite dangerous."

"That it is," Aragorn said, mollified by the wizard's apology. He sighed and looked down at his hands for a moment before glancing back up at Mithrandir. "And please accept my apology as well. I know you do not take the lives of your companions lightly and will do all you can to protect them on your journey. I simply did not want you to think that it will be an easy task that did not require your full attention." Shaking his head, Aragorn shifted in his seat, hissing as his movement caused the pain in his ribs and leg to flare to life once again.

Leaning forward in concern, Mithrandir laid his hand on Aragorn's leg, below the injury. "Is there aught that I can do to help you?"

With his head bowed and his eyes closed tightly against the pain, Aragorn concentrated on his breathing until the worst of the pain subsided. Relaxing back against his pillow, he exhaled slowly, then looked up to meet the wizard's concerned gaze. "No, I should know better than to attempt such movement yet. I was distracted and forgot my injuries for a moment." Reaching over, he picked up the tea he had yet to finish and downed the rest of the cup in one gulp, not even caring that it had gone cold while he spoke with Mithrandir.

Though the Istar did not have the same healing abilities of Elrond, he could at least help ease the pain of the man before him, and sent some of his power into the injured leg. After a moment, Aragorn relaxed and leaned his head back against the wall. "Do you wish me to call the twins to help you back to your bed?" Mithrandir asked him, seeing the fatigue in the man.

"No," Aragorn said, toying with the edge of the blanket covering his legs. "This is my first time outdoors in days. I do not wish to go back inside just yet."

Leaning back in his own seat, Mithrandir relented. "Very well. What can you tell me about this journey? It obviously ends well if you seek for the events to repeat."

Aragorn closed his eyes, hiding from Mithrandir's keen gaze. During the events of this quest in his history, Bilbo and the dwarves had stirred up the dragon, Smaug, leading to the destruction of Lake Town, and fortunately enough, the death of the dragon. Then the orc armies had attacked, becoming the Battle of the Five Armies, where men, dwarves, elves, eagles, and Beorn fought and defeated the orcs. Many good people had fallen in that battle, including Thorin, Fili and Kili, three of the dwarves soon to set out on this quest, full of hope. But if this journey did not happen exactly as before, then the Ring would not be taken from Gollum's cave, the dragon would still live, and possibly join in the battle at the Black Gates many years hence, and the armies of the orcs would not be so decimated. Knowing all he did, Aragorn could not dare to interfere, even were it to save the lives of so many. "It ends as it must," Aragorn said at last, his voice soft, resolute. Meeting Mithrandir's eyes was difficult for him now, knowing how many would fall in battle.

The Istar's eyes narrowed as he saw the expression on Aragorn's face. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and steeled himself for the answer to his next question. "It does not all end well, then? Who does not return from this task?"

With a wary shake of his head, Aragorn refused to answer the questions directly. "I cannot give you too much information, or you may react to events in a different way and thus change the outcome for the worse. There are events that must happen now, and even if success is achieved, there is a cost. I will say no more than that except for this, you have chosen the correct burglar for this quest. Bilbo will prove himself much more resourceful than any would expect." A smile graced Aragorn's face. "And he will become a great friend to us both."

Mithrandir sat back in his seat, pondering Aragorn's words, puzzling through them for clues. It seemed that Bilbo, at least, would survive this journey, for that was the only way for him to have become a friend of Aragorn's. It did relieve his mind to know that he was not sending the gentle hobbit to his death. But it seemed that others perhaps were not so lucky. Gazing at the determined look on the man's face, he saw that he would get no more answers from him on this topic. Nodding his acceptance of that, he changed the subject. "How long has Elrond declared that you will be confined to Imladris to heal?"

"Several months at least," Aragorn answered tiredly. "The ribs should heal well enough in another month, but there was a lot of damage done to my leg. While there is no longer much fear that I will lose the leg, it will be some time before I am able to actually walk upon it." A sober look came over his face as he stared at the wizard. "As it is, I may never walk without a limp again. How this will affect my ability to fight has yet to be seen." He shook his head. "I returned to this time for my father, Mithrandir. I do not like the idea of not being able to remain at his side on patrol. Arathorn is scheduled to return in late July. I will be here at least until that long. Whether I am permitted to resume patrolling when Arathorn next leaves is up to Elrond."

Reaching out, the wizard laid a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "I am sure that you will be able to rejoin Arathorn on the next patrol. You once told me that you have always recovered from injuries more quickly than expected. You will be well and whole again, I feel sure of this."

"In my own body, this is true," Aragorn said, with a gesture to acknowledge the wizard's reassurance. "I am not entirely sure the same holds true for Eradan. But I do have hope that I will heal more completely than expected. If I am to live out Eradan's life, I do not want to do it with a permanent reminder of this injury." A shadow crossed his face at the reminder that he had no idea if he would ever return to his own life. "Gandalf?" he asked softly, broaching a topic he was sure would lead nowhere. "I have been here eight years now. I have seen changes to history, most notably in the form of Lothrin. I saved my father's life only to lose my entire family. Is there some task that I have to perform before I return, or will I simply remain here until Eradan's death of old age or in battle? Will I even return to my life upon Eradan's death, or is this my life now?" He gestured around himself to indicate Imladris, and the wider world that he now found himself in.

It was the wizard's turn to shake his head and hold back information as he withdrew his hand. "You know that I cannot tell you such things, Aragorn." A wry smile curved his lips. "And it would seem that we are in more similar positions than I had realized. We each know things that we can not tell the other, no matter how strong our friendship. I understand now, what you were trying to tell me. I must set out on this quest as if I have no foreknowledge of what might happen, and react to each situation as it occurs. I fear that is also the only advice I have for you. Live this life, each day as if it were a new day, and do not borrow concerns from the future, whatever it may hold. But Aragorn, you have not lost your family. They are here, alive and well. You have Arathorn and Elrond, you have your mother and the twins. You have not lost them."

"But they do not know me for who I truly am." Aragorn dropped his eyes to stare at his hands. "To them I am a friend and trusted companion, yes, but I am not a son or a brother." His lips quirked upward slightly. "Though Elrohir did call me brother."

"There, you see?" Mithrandir said with a satisfied lilt in his voice. "They may not share the same memories of your childhood that you have, but you have found the same place in their hearts." He sobered and leaned forward seriously. "Have you ever considered telling them who you are? They could help you through times like this, banish the loneliness I have seen in you."

"What would that accomplish?" Aragorn asked with a helpless gesture of his hand. "It is rather an unbelievable story, you have to admit. If I had not known things that Eradan had no way of knowing, you would not have believed me when I told you. No, Gandalf, it would serve no purpose to let them know that Arathorn originally died in that attack when I was two. It would only bring pain to them all. What good can it possibly do for anyone to know that I was raised as a son of Elrond? As you said, they do not share my memories of our times together, the life I lived here. Besides, I still do not know why I am here, or who sent me. Without knowing the reason I am here, it is better that no others are told. The knowledge of my existence in this time could be very dangerous for us all. The only reason I told you was the hope that you would be able to send me home."

Sighing, Aragorn rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I am tired, Mithrandir. So tired of living a life that is not mine, waiting and wondering if I will ever see my wife and child again. What has become of them during my absence? What of my people?" His voice was faint, barely audible as he spoke, and Mithrandir could see the weariness of his body and mind as if it was a visible shroud hanging about him.

Standing, the Istar moved to sit on the edge of bench on which Aragorn reclined. He rested his hands on Aragorn's shoulders, and the man opened his eyes to stare wearily at the wizard. "Do not give in to despair, my friend. Trust that there is some reason for all of this, though we do not understand what that might be. You are tired and hurting now, I know. Once you have healed and regained your strength, things will look better, I promise you. You cannot lose hope, you who were named Estel as a child." Mithrandir knew he would have to leave soon if he were to make it to the Shire before the dwarves, but he did not want to leave Aragorn when he was in this mood.

Closing his eyes again, Aragorn spoke softly, his words nearly slurred in his fatigue. "I'll try. But it's hard, Gandalf, so hard sometimes."

Gandalf closed his eyes and sighed. "I know, my friend. Sleep now. Things will appear better when you next wake." He placed a hand over Aragorn's eyes and gently nudged the man to a peaceful sleep. Standing, he stared down at the sleeping man, then turned to leave in search of the twins.

He crossed the healing room and came across Elrohir in the hallway. "Ah, there you are. Eradan has fallen asleep on the balcony. I believe he is in more pain than he would admit. Perhaps you would care to help me return him to his bed?"

Giving the wizard a look that Gandalf could not decipher, Elrohir merely nodded. Following Gandalf, he took in the man's pale face and air of exhaustion. "He looks worse now than when we brought him out here." Bending down, he gently lifted the man into his arms, being as careful as possible not to jostle his ribs or leg.

"Forgive me, I fear I did not consider how exhausted he was before I began our conversation. His current condition is entirely my fault." Gandalf gathered the pillows and blanket and followed Elrohir into the healing room where the elf gently laid the man down on the bed, straightened his limbs and covered him carefully with the blanket.

Placing a hand on Eradan's head, Elrohir frowned. "He has a slight fever. I fear he should not have been moved so soon. He has not the strength for it yet, no matter what he claimed." Looking up at the wizard, his eyes narrowed. "Would you mind finding my father and informing him that Eradan has taken a turn for the worse?"

"Of course," Mithrandir replied, glancing down at the supine form on the bed. "I will have to leave soon, but I have a message I would like you to deliver to Eradan when he wakes. Please tell him to hold onto hope. He will understand what it means." He gave Elrohir a very pointed look. "Take good care of him." With another look at the sleeping man, the wizard turned and left the room in search of Elrond.

Elrohir watched him leave with a sigh of relief. He had almost been caught eavesdropping, not that he had started out with the intent of listening to Eradan and Mithrandir. On his way out of the room, he decided to pick up the parchment he had been working on earlier, and finish it in another room. Though he had not meant to eavesdrop, his attention had been well and truly caught when he heard Mithrandir refer to Eradan as Aragorn. Thinking the wizard had merely misspoken, he waited for Eradan to laugh and make some comment, but the man's response had thoroughly confused him. Needing to know more, he had crept closer and unobtrusively listened to the entire conversation. It seemed impossible, unbelievable, but the wizard quite clearly believed every word of it, as did Eradan…Aragorn. He shook his head again at the very thought. How could this man before him possibly be the same person as the child currently growing up in Imladris? He had heard the tone of command in Aragorn's voice, and had been impressed that he dared use such a tone with Mithrandir. But the Istar had taken no offense, apologizing instead. Elrohir's heart had gone out to this man who claimed to be a brother of his and Elladan's as he heard the plaintive, dejected tone of voice. If everything he heard were true, this man had spent eight years living the life of another, separated from everyone he loved. When he heard the conversation come to an end, he had quietly stepped out in the hallway so he would not be caught eavesdropping.

Now that Mithrandir had left, he turned his attention back to the man on the bed. "Well, my brother. It would seem you hold many secrets." Gazing intently at the man, he tried to see the features of another lurking beneath the surface, the features of one of the line of kings. This was an interesting turn of events, indeed.

Chapter 12

As Elrohir sat in the room with the sleeping man, his mind began piecing together many things that at the time had merely seemed odd, but taken together, convinced Elrohir that there was more to Eradan than they had ever suspected. From the moment Eradan awoke after saving Arathorn's life, he had known exactly who the twins were, never mistaking one for another. There were those who had known them for centuries who were not capable of that. Eradan's skills as a fighter and his knowledge had always seemed to far exceed his years. His insistence that Elladan and Elrohir take an active role in young Aragorn's life, his easy manner with the twins and all aspect of life in Imladris, and the recent delusions in which he referred to Elrond and Gilraen as his father and mother, added up to one unmistakable conclusion. This man was from the future, having lived a history that had now changed, a history in which he and Elrohir were brothers.

Before he could even begin to consider how he felt about that, Elrond and Elladan entered the room, and Elrohir pushed all other thoughts out of his mind. "He has a fever again." His eyes locked onto his father's, both of them once more in the role of healer.

"We may have missed some small pocket of infection," Elrond mused, crossing to the bed and placing a hand on Eradan's forehead. "I need to examine his leg." Elladan and Elrohir shifted Eradan slightly and pulled up the edge of the robe that patients in the healing ward wore to allow the healers easy access to their injuries. Once Eradan's leg was bared, Elrond frowned as he inspected the edges of the wound. "There is inflammation near his knee. It appears we did not completely eradicate the infection after all. We will have to reopen the wound and clean it out again, or risk it becoming as serious as it was at the start."

A wince crossed Elrohir's face as he heard his father's words. This would be a very painful experience for Eradan. "We will need to make sure he sleeps through the procedure."

Elladan crossed to the cabinet and began finding the ingredients for a tea that would fight the infection, and grabbed a sedative to add. Elrond began gathering what he would need to remove the stitches and wash out the wound once again while the eldest twin set about preparing the tea.

Sitting down beside Eradan, Elrohir reached out and gently shook the sleeping man's shoulder. They would have to wake him to have him drink the tea. "Eradan?"

With a sigh, Eradan slowly opened his eyes and stared blearily at the elf. "Elrohir?" he asked, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes, a gesture that made him appear very young. "What is it? Where is Mithrandir?" He glanced around the room, looking for the wizard.

"He had to leave," Elrohir said. "Before he left, he asked me to tell you to hold onto hope." Eradan nodded slightly, indicating he knew what the message meant. Elrohir then explained what they would have to do to treat him.

Eradan closed his eyes and sagged back into his bed. "Do what you must." His voice was tired, defeated.

Walking over to them, Elladan held the cup of tea out for Eradan to take. "Here, this will help."

Opening his eyes again, Eradan reached for the cup. The twins helped raise his head enough to enable him to drink. Without comment, Eradan downed the entire cup of tea. Once the tea was gone, they lowered him back to the bed and he closed his eyes, waiting for the tea to take effect.

As soon as they were sure that Eradan would not wake during the procedure, Elrond and Elladan began. Elrohir sat by Eradan's bed, watching him for signs of pain or discomfort, and stilled the man if he began to move in reaction to the pain. At last they finished and placed a poultice over the wound. Elrohir wrapped a bandage around Eradan's leg as his father and brother cleaned up. Drawing the blanket back over Eradan's still form when he had finished, Elrohir simply stared at the man for a moment, his mind drifting back to what he had overheard earlier.

Standing abruptly, he turned to the others, his robe swirling about his feet with the movement. "Would you be able to stay with him?"

"Of course," Elladan said, staring at his brother with a confused expression on his face. "I had thought you planned to stay for a time as well, at least until he woke up."

"I will return shortly," Elrohir responded. "There is something I must do first." He forced any signs of the turmoil he felt from his expression, giving his brother a bland smile. Judging by Elladan's expression, he was not convinced, but did not seem inclined to question him about it now.

A gesture of assent from his brother had the younger twin heading quickly out the door. He needed to get away from the room for a short time, to clear his mind and think over all he had heard.

Fleeing the house, Elrohir took refuge in a secluded section of his mother's garden. It was this place to which he retreated when his mind and heart needed peace. Here he could almost feel his mother's presence, and often cast his mind back to the times when he was young and she would prepare a picnic in the gardens for Elladan, Elrond and himself. Collapsing onto the ground at the base of his favorite oak tree, he leaned his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes as his thoughts whirled through his head faster than he could grasp. It took a great deal of effort to bring his mind under control and begin to examine the situation in an orderly manner.

While he had waited for his father and brother to arrive to help treat Eradan, he had come to the realization that what he had overheard was true, and there was now no disputing that. For a time, all of the instances when Eradan had behaved a trifle oddly flashed through his mind. In the context of what he now knew, those quirks made much more sense. But if he accepted all that he had heard, what should he now do about it? It seemed that Eradan did not know why he was here, or if he would ever be able to return home. Though Elrohir wanted to corner the man and demand answers as to his purpose here, it seemed that he would get no answers on that front. But that brought to mind another question. Should he let Eradan know he had overheard them? The man had given Gandalf several reasons for not informing him and the others about Eradan's true nature. Most of the reasons did not strike Elrohir as urgent enough for him to hold his silence on the matter. But for the fact that Eradan considered others knowing of his presence here as dangerous to them all, he would go straight to the healing room and wait for the man to wake, then confront him with this new knowledge.

As he considered the matter, he could see how having someone from the future here could be quite dangerous indeed, especially if others knew of his presence. Even Gandalf had approached Eradan, asking if a particular course of action were the correct one. If others knew of this, they could also begin consulting the man on various decisions, rather than trusting their own hearts and minds. That could soon lead to disaster, especially as Eradan did not seem inclined to inform them as to the rightness of a decision. Though he had indicated to Gandalf that he had made the correct choice for some task, he had chastised the wizard for relaxing then, as if the Istar had thought the task already complete. Elrohir could easily see the trap that the wizard had fallen into, and saw why Eradan did not want anyone else to know who he was. Knowing that, Elrohir determined to keep the man's secret from all others, even his father and twin brother, difficult as it may be.

The question still remained, should he tell Eradan what he knew? Would it help relieve the man's burden to have someone in whom he could confide and speak freely, or would it add to his burden, knowing there was another who might come to him for guidance on the future? Elrohir pondered the question for a long time. Knowing what he did, he was unsure if he would be able to treat Eradan as he always had. True, he had recently come to accept the man as a brother, but that was a different sort of relationship than if the man had been raised from childhood as a brother of his. That was the relationship Eradan remembered, and Elrohir could not help wondering what his life would have been like, how things would have changed had young Aragorn truly been raised as his brother. A smile touched his lips as he thought of the child Aragorn. He did love both of Arathorn's children, and over the years, had become as something of a much older sibling to them. So perhaps his relationships with them and with Eradan would not have to change too drastically, though he could already feel his bonds of love and loyalty to all three of them strengthen with this new knowledge.

After a great deal of struggle and internal debate, Elrohir decided that he should hold his peace for now. Though he would not tell Eradan what he knew as yet, he would do all in his power to support and watch over this younger brother he had never known. The man was worn with his many concerns, and Elrohir would work to ease his burdens however he could. Decisions made, he arose with a lighter heart and looked up at the position of Anor. The sun was past its peak position in the sky, indicating that he had been out here longer than he had thought. The noon meal was long past, and the evening meal not long off. Elladan would be wondering where he was. Stretching to loosen the tenseness out of his muscles, he ambled back to the house, his mind still in awe at the situation that had unexpectedly presented itself to him.

When he entered the healing room, he saw Aragorn reading a book of poems to Eradan, who was now awake and half-sitting, half reclining in his bed. Elrohir stopped in the doorway, struck at the realization that the two before him were in truth two versions of the same person. The very thought was enough to throw him off-balance, and he held onto the doorframe for a moment before shaking his head and slowly entering the room. As he entered, he saw Elladan standing just outside the door to the balcony, enjoying the fresh breeze of the evening, but facing into the room to watch over the man in the bed and listening to the child read. A raised eyebrow and quizzical expression were all the response he gave as Elrohir approached. It was enough to convey his curiosity at Elrohir's abrupt departure earlier. Elrohir simply shook his head and raised one shoulder in a shrug. That was all the answer he was capable of at the moment. Crossing the room, he took up position opposite Eradan's bed, leaning casually against the wall and watching the ranger.

To Elrohir's eye, the injured man looked exhausted and pained, but he put up a front for the child, smiling and encouraging him in his reading. When Aragorn reached the end of the poem he was reading, Elrohir stepped forward. "Aragorn, that was well done, and I am sure Eradan appreciates you reading to him. I believe it is nearly time for the evening meal, however, and your mother may be expecting you."

"Very well." Aragorn placed a strip of cloth in the book and placed it on the bedside table. He looked back and forth between Eradan and Elrohir. "May I return later to say good night?"

"I would like that." Eradan gave the boy a faint smile that grew as the boy nodded, turned, and raced out of the room. "Did I ever have so much energy?" His question was rhetorical, and Elrohir could not help but chuckle, knowing that Eradan had once been the young boy who raced out of the room at the thought of food.

Approaching the bed, Elrohir gazed down at the man's wan face. "You appear to be in some pain. Would you like some willow bark tea before you sup?"

A long sigh escaped Eradan, and he nodded slightly. "I did not wish to worry Aragorn, but yes, a cup of willow bark tea before my meal would not be amiss." Elrohir looked up as Elladan walked past them to a table that had been set up with the necessary ingredients for the teas that Eradan might need. "Thank you, my friends, for your care." Eradan's voice was soft, tense from the pain, but his gratitude was genuine.

"Is that not what brothers do for each other?" Elrohir watched Eradan's face as he asked the question, and saw the pleasure that spread across the man's face at being called 'brother'. Elrohir helped Eradan to drink the tea when Elladan brought it over, and the three spent the remainder of the evening speaking quietly, or sitting in silence when the effort of speaking seemed too much for the weary man.

As Eradan began to heal from his injuries, Elrohir was rarely far from his bedside. While the man was not allowed to venture from his bed for nearly another week, Elrond was pleased at the progress he saw in the ranger. The infection did not return as strongly as it had been, and was defeated quickly. The wound in Eradan's leg was once again stitched up, and as the days progressed, the edges of the gash began to close, and seemed to be healing without problem. Sitting upright and moving around became easier for Eradan as his ribs mended, and his other injuries faded. Elrohir was greatly relieved to see the return of the man's good humor. As his exhaustion faded and his pain eased, he once again began to banter with the twins and with Aragorn and Lothrin. But even in his banter, Elrohir could see a distraction in the man, something that he dwelt long upon in his thoughts, but would not share with another. Though he wanted to ask what it was that worried him, Elrohir held his tongue and merely watched, doing what he could to help, and supporting him as best he could with his presence.

Nearly a month after his return to Imladris, Eradan slowly made his way to the balcony of his room, leaning heavily on a stout walking stick before sitting gingerly on a bench overlooking the valley. The danger of losing his leg to infection was now long past, and the wound had begun to heal, but his leg would not yet bear his weight. It would be some time before he would be able to walk without the assistance of the walking stick, and Elrond could give him no guarantees that he would ever again walk without a limp. But this day, his mind was not on his injuries. Eradan leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on the balcony railing then lowering his head to rest his chin atop his arms. His gaze was distant as he stared out over the valley, his thoughts far from the view before him.

It was now mid-April, which meant that Gandalf, Bilbo and the dwarves would soon be setting out on their journey to Smaug's lair. His mind had been pre-occupied with this thought ever since his conversation with the wizard. While he would not dare interfere in the events of the quest, there were a few concerns on his mind.

The most immediate concern was whether it would matter if Aragorn went by his true name. In the original history, Bilbo and the dwarves were introduced to Estel, Elrond's foster son. Would anything change if they were introduced to Aragorn, next in line to be Chieftain of the Dúnedain? Eradan trusted Bilbo and all thirteen dwarves not to have any ill intentions toward Aragorn, Arathorn, or any of them, but if the names were mentioned in passing to those who were less scrupulous, things could go very ill indeed. Perhaps it would be better if Aragorn were to be given another name for when company came. A small smile tugged at Eradan's lips. This would be the first in a very long list of names he would accumulate throughout his life. That was not a decision he could make on his own, though, so he put the thought aside until he could broach the topic with Elrond and Gilraen. Growing uncomfortable, he re-situated himself so that his back was resting against one of the balcony posts and his leg stretched out before him. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and turned his concentration inward once again.

His second concern was of another nature entirely. Rather than trying to ensure that history ran its proper course, he was now considering deliberately changing events. These thoughts had swirled through his mind, all the arguments for and against a course of action that would change all of history. Bilbo and Gandalf would be returning from their adventures approximately a year from now, May first of next year, to be precise, with a certain trinket in Bilbo's possession. What would happen if he were to ask Bilbo for the Ring, explaining its importance, and take it to Mordor himself? After the Battle of Five Armies, the number of orcs in the area would be severely diminished. Whether he chose to journey through the High Pass and venture past Lothlórien, or to go through the Gap of Rohan and pass near Isengard, the number of enemies looking for the Ring would be nearly nonexistent. If Saruman were not informed that the Ring had been found, he would not be on alert, and at this particular time, he had not started breeding his Urk-hai, so there would be no concern on that quarter. Passing through Lothlórien might not be the best course of action, as Eradan had no reason to expect their loyalty, but he might be able to travel down the Anduin between Lothlórien and the southern reaches of Mirkwood. Since the White Council would soon be chasing Sauron out of Dol Guldur, that fortress would be unoccupied for a time. Though, since Saruman was still searching the Gladden Fields, perhaps he should best avoid that path.

It seemed that the most treacherous portion of the journey would be getting into Mordor and through that desolate land to Orodruin. Unfortunately, that was the one part he could not quite find a way through. If he were to follow Frodo's steps and go up the stairs of Cirith Ungol, he would find himself in Shelob's lair. Having fought some of the Mirkwood spiders was one thing, but Shelob was another enemy altogether. However, expecting to find her, he might be able to elude or defeat her. If he were able to defeat Shelob and escape her lair, then he would have to work his way past the tower of Cirith Ungol, and across the broad plains before the fiery mountain of Orodruin, remaining hidden from the orcs and Sauron the entire time. Granted, Sauron would still be establishing his presence and secretly building his forces, but he would not be at his peak strength yet. Barad-dur would not even begin to be rebuilt for ten years after Sauron's return to Mordor. The enemies would surely be easier to avoid, being less numerous and more scattered than when Frodo and Sam made the same journey.

There was surely no better time to attempt to destroy the Ring than next year. Eradan could not help but think of all the pain, death and misery that would be avoided if he were to achieve his goals. Frodo would never have to suffer such a burden that he was permanently scarred by his experiences. Halbarad, Théoden and all those who fell in the battles to save Arda from Sauron's rule would not have to die. So much pain and suffering would be avoided if he did this thing. It was true that he would likely perish in the end, not having the eagles nearby to swoop down to his rescue, but that would be a small price to pay.

All of those reasons tempted him to act, to coax the Ring from Bilbo and make the journey in the relative peace that would soon settle over the land. But there were other thoughts that prompted him to caution, to hold his tongue and let events happen as they did before. Foremost among those thoughts was the risk of his failure. He knew that Frodo succeeded on his quest, there was nothing to say he would be able to do the same. If he fell along the way, the Ring would either be lost again, or fall into enemy hands. If, through his actions, Sauron or even Saruman were to gain the Ring…the consequences to all of Arda did not even bear thinking about. Could he take that chance? Given a guarantee of success at a future date, did he dare take a chance of his failure? Even if he were to trust Gandalf with all that he knew, and the two were to embark on this together, there was no way of knowing whether they could succeed. Then there was the Ring to consider. Frodo had shown himself remarkably immune to the call of the thing, having carried it the entire way to Mount Doom before being overtaken by it. A frown crossed Eradan's face as he remembered his own ancestor, Isildur. Men did not appear to be able to hold out against the Ring's evil nearly as long as did hobbits. If Eradan were to take the Ring, there was no way of knowing if he would be able to carry it all the way to Mordor, or if he would fall to its influence. That would surely need to be considered into his calculations. He would never have hurt Frodo to take the Ring, but if it were already in his possession, he truly did not know what he would be capable of doing.

Eradan sighed and shifted on the bench, trying to get more comfortable. Perhaps he would be better off inside, on a cushioned seat, but he did not want to make the effort to move just yet. It might interrupt his thoughts. Settling back again, he considered what might happen, or not happen if he were able to succeed at the task, beyond all hope. There would have been no cooperation between Rohan and Gondor to save their peoples. The council in Minas Tirith would likely reject Arathorn's claim to the throne, though Ecthelion might be more sympathetic to the claim than Denethor. Without the need to join together and save Minas Tirith, there might not be an easy way for Arathorn's line to reclaim the throne and reunite the northern and southern kingdoms. The time of peace that had begun when Aragorn was crowned as Elessar, the Elfstone and Envinyatar, the Renewer, might never come to pass. Then, if Arathorn chose to move his family out of Imladris, either to Minas Tirith, or to a village of the Dúnedain, Aragorn and Arwen might never meet.

Feeling a headache coming on, Eradan reached up to rub at the furrow between his eyes. How could he possibly know the full ramifications of his actions? And if he could not predict how events would unfold, would that not then indicate that he should not attempt to alter history as he knew it? How he longed to confide in someone, to tell them all that he knew and to seek the wisdom of one older and wiser than he. But he could not burden any other with the knowledge he held, nor ask them to consider the problems with which he now wrestled.

"Eradan? Are you well?" A voice intruded into his musings, and Eradan opened his eyes, sitting abruptly upright. He blinked as he fought to gain control of his wandering thoughts.

"Elrohir?" Eradan focused his gaze on the elf standing above him with a look of concern on his face. He looked around at the balcony, then back into his room, where the door now stood open. "Forgive me, I did not hear you enter."

"Your thoughts seemed far from this place." Elrohir leaned back against the railing of the balcony and watched the man. "Would you care to tell me what so occupied your mind?"

Holding Elrohir's gaze for a long moment, Eradan decided that he should at least broach the topic of Aragorn's name. "I believe I would like to speak with your father and Gilraen. I have something to discuss with them."

Elrohir's eyebrows rose in surprise at Eradan's response. "Would you like me to gather them in the library now?" He leaned forward slightly, his curiosity clear on his face.

"No, after dinner will be soon enough." Eradan shifted his body so that he was sitting on the edge of the bench, and slowly bent and straightened his leg a few times, working out the stiffness that had set in as he sat on the cool stone bench. A wince crossed his face as the movement pulled at the still healing muscles. Elrohir gestured toward his leg, asking if he needed any help. Eradan shook his head. "I will be well. Is there a reason you sought me out in my rooms?"

Seeming surprised, Elrohir answered as if he had forgotten his original reason for seeking Eradan. "Yes, I do have a reason. Baran has just arrived."

"Baran?" Eradan's expression was anxious, nearly panicked. "Why is he here? What has happened?" Forgetting his injury, he tried to stand, hissing in pain as his leg gave out beneath him. A strong grip on his arm kept him from falling, helping to ease him back down onto the bench.

"Do not fear, Arathorn is well," Elrohir assured the man, crouching down in front of him, holding firmly to his arm. "Baran has arrived with a message. Adar, Glorfindel and Elladan are waiting in Adar's office. I was sent to retrieve you." He placed both hands on Eradan's shoulders and supported the ranger as he hunched over, clutching his leg in his pain. "Take a deep breath and then let it out slowly," Elrohir advised, doing what he could to help Eradan as the pain slowly eased. When Eradan finally sat back with a deep shuddering breath, Elrohir watched his eyes intently. "Better now?" A slow nod was Eradan's only response. "Will you be able to walk down the hallway? If not, I could have Baran visit you here after the meeting. I know he will want to see you."

"Give me a moment, and I will be able to walk," Eradan's voice was strained. "I should not have tried to stand in that manner."

"I will agree that it was not one of your better ideas," Elrohir said, his voice bland, and a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Giving him an irritated frown, Eradan uttered an insult under his breath, knowing full well that Elrohir would hear him. Extending a hand, he looked at the elf that now stood before him. "Help me to my feet, if you would be so kind."

Elrohir hid his grin, and reached out to clasp Eradan's hand, tugging him gently to his feet. Reaching over and grabbing the walking stick where it leaned against the railing, he handed it to the wobbly man. He kept a firm grip on the ranger until Eradan was steady on his feet, then led the way slowly out of the room.

Baran came to his feet when Eradan entered the room, limping and leaning heavily on his walking stick. Elrohir hovered just behind him, ready to help if any aid were needed.

"Eradan, it is good to see you walking!" There was genuine relief in Baran's voice at seeing the younger ranger on his feet, and a wide smile spread across his face. Moving quickly, Baran helped Eradan to a seat in the library.

Smiling with relief at being off of his leg again, Eradan smiled back up at Baran. "So what brings you here? How is Arathorn?"

"He is well." Baran took a seat near the other man as Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir all chose seats for themselves. "I do have something to report, but I felt that part of our Chieftain's reasoning for sending me here was to check how you were healing. We all have wondered if you were well, but he has been more worried than most."

"You will be able to report that I am doing well and should be able to return to the next patrol." Eradan shot a sidelong glance toward Elrond to see the slight glower he had expected. "As soon as my healer gives me leave, that is," he amended his statement. Elrond nodded in approval, his frown fading as he turned to look at the other ranger.

Turning the attention to other matters, Elrond addressed Baran. "Can you now tell us what message you were sent to deliver?"

Taking a deep breath, Baran turned to face the others. "Yes, my lord. We have been hearing disturbing reports of late. It would appear that there are several trolls waylaying travelers not far from here. The reports have been scattered, and we are not sure of their numbers, but people are afraid to travel the roads in the woods to the west. Arathorn will divert our patrol in that direction to search for them and determine the best way to make the roads safe again. Several farmsteads have reported the loss of livestock to these trolls, though luckily we have yet to hear reports that they have taken people."

"That will likely not last," Elrohir murmured softly, rubbing his chin with his fingers. "Do you know from whence they have come?"

"Reports are that they have come down from the mountains, but again, what we have heard is not entirely reliable. People say different things about them. No one seems to know where they can be found. Trolls can cover great distances when they wish. We intend to start with the farms that have reported missing livestock and track them to their lair. Once we see how many there are, we will determine what to do." Baran glanced back and forth between the various elf lords and Eradan. "Arathorn thought you should know that there is a new danger to travelers in this region. They are beyond the reaches of the Imladris guards, but if you have people traveling out further, or are expecting travelers, they may run into this trouble."

A frown curved Elrond's lips downward as he brought a hand up to his chin. "I do not like the idea of these trolls causing more trouble for our neighbors. Would it help if we were to send out patrols of our own, aid you in tracking down these troublesome creatures?"

A relieved look crossed Baran's face. "Yes, my lord, that would be appreciated. Anyone you care to send would be greatly welcomed."

Elrond looked over to Glorfindel, who gave him a slight nod, indicating that he was already considering which of their people to send to help the rangers. Turning back to Baran, Elrond gestured with his hand. "We will need all of the information you currently have, no matter how reliable or unreliable it may be."

"Of course, my lord," Baran said, inclining his head in respect. Leaning forward in his chair, he proceeded to relate every bit of intelligence the rangers had been able to gather pertaining to the trolls. Every now and then, Glorfindel, Elrond or one of the twins would ask questions or seek to further clarify a point. Eradan, however, remained silent, merely observing the others and listening to all that was said.

Once all of the necessary information had been imparted and discussed, they took a break for dinner. Elrohir spend the meal surreptitiously watching Eradan. There was something on the man's mind tonight. When Elrohir had interrupted his thoughts earlier, it had taken a long moment for Eradan to focus on the elf again. There had been indecision in his eyes, an internal struggle of some sort. Elrohir's curiosity had been aroused when the man mentioned that he wanted to speak to both Elrond and Gilraen. Eradan's silence in the library during Baran's report had been quite uncharacteristic. He usually felt comfortable enough to share his opinions and ask insightful questions. It had occurred to Elrohir that Eradan held his tongue because he knew more than he could say about the trolls, and preferred not to influence the outcome. With that thought, he had begun carefully watching Eradan's face, trying to judge from his expression what he knew, what would be the best decision for them to make. Should he and Elladan join with the rangers, form a patrol of their own from the Imladris elves, or leave the rangers to find the trolls on their own? Eradan's expression gave no clue as to the 'correct' course of action, leaving Elrohir more confused than he normally would have been in such a situation. He was accustomed to making a decision and acting on it. Now, he found himself unable to determine the correct choice.

After the meeting, Elrohir shook his head at himself. It seemed that he had fallen into the same trap as Mithrandir. Knowing that Eradan had already lived through this time and knew how events would play out, he had turned to the ranger to make his choices for him. He could not live his life in that manner, as Eradan had pointed out to the wizard. Elrohir would simply have to make the choice that he would have if he had not found out Eradan's secret. If his father and Glorfindel approved, Elrohir decided that he would join with the rangers on their patrol to hunt down the trolls. They were a threat that must be dealt with, and he meant to do his part.

Glorfindel, Elladan and Baran took their leave of the others after dinner to go over the maps and make plans for the patrols to join with the rangers. Elrohir chose to join Elrond, Eradan, and Gilraen in Elrond's study to hear what Eradan had to say.

Once everyone had settled into their seats with a glass of wine in hand, Elrond glanced over at Eradan. The man was reclining back in his cushioned chair with his leg stretched out before him, and the walking stick leaning against the arm of the chair for easy access. At the moment, Eradan was swirling the deep red liquid in his glass, watching the movement as if it held answers he needed.

"Eradan?" At the question, the man looked up to meet Elrond's gaze. "Are you ready to share with us your reason for requesting this meeting?" Elrond's curiosity was clear in his voice as he watched the ranger.

"Yes," Eradan said slowly, taking a sip of the wine as he considered how to broach the topic. Placing the wineglass on a nearby table, he straightened up in his chair and glanced back and forth between Gilraen and Elrond. "It has occurred to me that we could be taking further measures to protect the children."

"What measures?" Gilraen interrupted, leaning forward in her chair at the words. "Imladris is a place of peace and safety. They are in no danger here."

Raising a hand to halt her words, Eradan studied her face, then Elrond's as he spoke. "It is true that there are none here who would wish harm to either of the children, but Imladris is not as isolated as the other elven realms. Any in need of help, aid or peace are welcomed here. There have been few visitors to this place since our arrival, but that is not likely to remain true the entire time the children are here. They have been brought here for their safety, as it would be dangerous for many to know of their location, correct?" Receiving acknowledgment from the others, he continued. "Then would they not be safer if future visitors were kept from knowing about them?"

A frown crossed Elrond's face. "How would you propose we do this? If we have visitors for an extended time, it is impractical to keep the children away from them the entire time."

"I realize this." A small smile curved Eradan's lips as he waved a hand in the direction of the children's rooms. "Those two are too curious not to seek out new visitors. No, my suggestion is a little different. The danger comes not in the visitors seeing them, but in discovering their identities. Lothrin is not an uncommon name among the Dúnedain, but Aragorn is a name reserved only for the line of kings. My suggestion is that while we have visitors, Aragorn go by another name." Looking back and forth between Elrond and Gilraen, Eradan tried to read their inscrutable expressions as they thought over his words. He hurried to fill in the sudden silence. "It is not that I do not trust those who would seek out your protection, my Lord, but if the name were to fall from their lips when they spoke to the wrong person, it could place the children in jeopardy. I vowed to protect them in any way that I could. I see this as one of those ways, and a rather simple precaution to take."

Elrohir spoke up softly, studying Eradan's face as he did so. "What name would you suggest? Estel?" A shocked look flickered across Eradan's face, quickly suppressed as he turned an appraising look upon the younger twin.

"Estel?" Elrond's tone was questioning, and slightly amused. "Wherever did you come up with that name, Elrohir?"

Turning, Elrohir met the amused look in his father's eye, and the quizzical look on his face. Elrohir's comment had been intended to gauge Eradan's reaction, and he had not thought out what reason there might be for naming a child Estel. He floundered for a moment before stumbling on a possible explanation, weak though he thought it sounded. "Is not each new generation the hope of their people?"

Gilraen could not help but smile as she spoke up. "That may be true, but do you honestly think Aragorn will accept that name?" She shook her head and leaned back more comfortably in her chair. Elrohir's suggestion seemed to have broken her out of her thoughts and made her more comfortable with the idea. "I think it is a good thing that you have not had the responsibility of naming any children, Elrohir." She seemed amused at the very thought.

"No, I was thinking of something simpler." Eradan turned his gaze away from Elrohir and focused on Elrond and Gilraen. "It must be something that Lothrin will remember to use among visitors. Giving him an entirely new name is not likely to work for Lothrin. However, do you remember what she called him as she was learning to speak?"

"It was Ari," Gilraen remembered. "She was unable to pronounce his full name." She fell silent for a moment as she pondered the idea. "We would have to explain to Aragorn why we were doing such a thing, but if we were to start referring to him as Ari, Lothrin would soon follow suit." Shaking her head suddenly, she looked back at the others. "Do you truly think such a precaution necessary?" The fingers of her right hand tapped unconsciously against her leg, betraying her agitation at the thought that her children could be in any danger, even here in the protected realm of the elves.

"Perhaps not." Eradan turned his hand over, palm up, in a gesture of entreaty. "But it can do no harm, surely, and provides just that extra layer of protection for them. May we at least speak with Aragorn about this and see if he will agree to allow it?"

Gilraen fell silent again, and glanced over at Elrond. "What do you think of this, Lord Elrond? Do you agree with Eradan?" The decision was hers, but she seemed to want to know what the elf lord thought about the idea.

Elrond clasped his hands together in front of him and tapped his lips before speaking. "I think it is not an unreasonable precaution. There have been few visitors here in the time that you have been living here, yes, but that is not always the case. Imladris is known as a place of refuge and healing. It is not unheard of for strangers in need to find their way here. We refuse none, unless it is clear that they have ill intentions. One could possibly arrive here, truly seeking our aid and discover something that he should not. Whether he then intended harm or not, if the wrong words were spoken to the wrong person, yes, the children could be placed in danger. I see this as a wise precaution to take." He paused in thought for a moment. "What do you think Arathorn will think of this?"

A soft sigh escaped Gilraen as she considered Arathorn's response. "The children's safety is paramount to him. He will consider this a simple measure to take, one that could save their lives." Decision made, she straightened in her seat. "Yes, we should bring Aragorn in and explain to him our reasoning on this."

Elrohir knew it was growing late in the evening, but it was not quite time for the children to go to bed. "Would you like me to fetch him now?"

Gilraen gave him a decisive nod. "I would prefer to explain this to him now, so that we may start in the morning. Lothrin will need to hear all of us referring to Aragorn as Ari for a short while before she begins to follow suit."

Standing, Elrohir gave her and his father a quick bow, then left the room to seek out Aragorn. Finding the child reading a bedtime story to his sister, he waited until Aragorn seemed to reach a stopping point and looked up at Elrohir. Since it was not uncommon for one of his 'brothers' to join them for their bedtime rituals, Aragorn smiled up at the elf in the doorway. "Did you come to read a little bit?"

"Not tonight." Elrohir entered the room and leaned against the bedpost. "If you have read enough, would you care to join me and a few others? There is something we would like to discuss with you."

"With me?" Aragorn asked in amazement. He was never brought in to 'discuss' things unless he had been misbehaving. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

A grin of recognition swept across Elrohir's face. That would have been his response as a child as well. "No, you are in no trouble. We merely wish to speak with you."

After studying the elf's face for reassurance, he nodded and turned back to Lothrin. He tucked her in and kissed her forehead before saying goodnight, allowing Elrohir to do the same. They left a small lantern burning near her bed so that her room would not be too dark, then Elrohir led Aragorn to the room where Eradan, Elrond and Gilraen awaited them. Aragorn gulped upon seeing who was in the room, and glanced at his mother to be sure that he was not in trouble. She gestured for him to take a seat next to her.

Aragorn glanced nervously around the room and then moved to sit next to his mother. Gilraen turned to face him, directing his attention to her, trying to ease his nervousness. "Do not worry, Aragorn." She smiled at him, knowing what would be going through his mind. "You are not in any trouble. But we do have something we wish to discuss with you." She paused for a moment to decide how to broach the subject. "Do you know why we are living in Imladris rather than a village of the Dúnedain?"

Aragorn's brow creased as he frowned in confusion. "Adar said we were safe here." He looked back and forth between the others. "Is that not why?"

Gilraen gave him a reassuring smile. "Yes, we are safer here than we would be elsewhere. Your father, you and Lothrin are from the line of kings of the Dúnedain. Do you know what that means?"

Aragorn was silent for a moment. This was something he had known, but never truly considered. For the first time, he tried to determine where he fit in with all of the history lessons he had learned from his father, Elrond and Erestor. "It means that if Arnor had not been destroyed, Ada would be king?" His voice was hesitant as he began to consider what that might mean. Gilraen let him consider that for a time before speaking again.

"Yes, and it means that your father, and you after him, have a claim to Gondor's throne." At Aragorn's confused look, Gilraen shook her head once. "But that is not truly the reason we have called you here. It also means that there are those in the world beyond Imladris who…would wish harm upon you and your sister for no other reason than who your ancestors were. You are protected here, hidden away from the rest of the world so that you and Lothrin can grow up in safety and peace. However, if others were to know of your existence here, you might be in danger." Gilraen's face clouded as she watched this new knowledge sink into her son's mind. He had never before considered that anyone would want to harm him or his sister. "I do not want you to start worrying about your safety. There are many here who would do anything necessary to protect you both. You are safe here." She spoke firmly, reassuring Aragorn that he had no reason to fear in this protected place. "I only tell you this now because Eradan has thought of a way to add to your protection." Waiting until Aragorn met her gaze, she continued. "Your name is only given to one of the line of kings, and it may perhaps be better if any visitors to the valley did not learn that name."

Aragorn shook his head, confused again. "What do you mean?" He grasped the armrests of his chair, his knuckles white with tension.

"It might be better if you went by another name while there are visitors to Imladris," Eradan put in, trying to take some of the burden off of Gilraen. He had hated to suggest this course of action, knowing that it would mean explaining a few harsh realities of his life to Aragorn at a very early age. However, if this meant keeping the children safe, that was something they would all just have to live with. "In order for Lothrin to become accustomed to calling you by another name, we would have to start soon, and simply refer to you by this other name at all times."

A frown crossed Aragorn's face. "Call me another name? What name?" He did not seem as if he liked the idea much, not that the others could blame him for such feelings.

"Would Ari be acceptable?" Gilraen asked, her gaze fixed on her son's face. "You did not seem to mind so much when Lothrin called you this when she was younger. And she already associates this name with you, so it would not be difficult for her to start using it again." When Aragorn remained silent for a moment, Gilraen reached out and touched his cheek. "Please tell me what you are thinking."

"This will keep Lothrin safe?" His eyes were unsure as he met his mother's gaze. When she nodded, the uncertainty faded, to be replaced by determination. "Then I will do it." He shrugged slightly. "It should not be too hard to remember." He tried to grin, though his effort was less than successful. "As long as you remember what to yell when I get in trouble."

Gilraen chuckled and draped her arm around Aragorn's shoulders, pulling him against her, though the armrests of the chairs interfered somewhat. Feeling his head come to rest atop her shoulder, she squeezed him tighter. "My brave boy," she whispered, her pride clear in her voice.

Trying to lighten Aragorn's spirits, Eradan spoke up. "Now you have a nickname, like 'Dan and 'Ro."

With a faint grin, Aragorn turned to look at Elrohir, then back to Eradan. "I didn't think of that." With a slightly confused expression, he looked over at Elrohir. "Why do you and Elladan have nicknames? I have never met another elf who does."

It was Eradan who answered the question before Elrohir could speak. "It is true that elves do not generally shorten their names, but it is not uncommon among the race of men. Elladan and Elrohir spend much of their time among men, and it was the children of the Dúnedain who gave them these names long ago. I suppose they simply grew used to being called these names and in time, adopted them for each other."

"Every time we use them, we are reminded of those who so named us," Elrohir said with a fond smile on his face. "Though I would not recommend trying to do the same with Glorfindel or my father."

A shocked look crossed Aragorn's face at the very thought of trying to refer to Lord Elrond or Lord Glorfindel with a nickname. The look on his face caused the others to chuckle.

With a smile, Gilraen looked down at her son. "On that note, I believe it is time for bed." Standing, she tugged on Aragorn's hand. "Tell the others good night."

Aragorn's good night was more subdued than normal, and after they returned the sentiment, he followed his mother out of the room without another word.

With a sigh, Eradan leaned back deeper into his chair. "I wish that it had not been necessary to lay that burden upon him at such an early age. But I do not think he would have agreed to do it had he not been told the truth." He rubbed a hand over his face and then back through his hair, not waiting for a response from either Elrond or Elrohir before grabbing his walking stick and pushing himself clumsily to his feet. "And if you will excuse me, I believe I will also retire for the evening." Barely waiting for their responses, he made his slow way out of the room and down the hallway to his own chambers.

Elrohir sat in the library for a time with Elrond, neither one moving to break the silence. After awhile, Elrohir placed his empty wineglass on a table, then said goodnight to his father before leaving the room. As he walked past Eradan's room, he heard a crashing sound, and stopped. When his gentle tapping on the door received no response, he slowly pushed the door open and peered in. At the sight that met his eyes, he stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him. Eradan was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, shoulders slumped and his head hanging in apparent defeat. Glancing around the room, Elrohir saw the probable source of the crash he had heard. A chair lay upon its side, the walking stick resting on the floor nearby. Looking back to where Eradan sat, it seemed that the man would have had to throw the walking stick for it to end up where it now rested, for he surely could not have walked back across the room without it.

"Eradan?" Elrohir hesitated near the doorway before stepping further into the room. "Is all well?" He nearly cringed at the question, for it was obvious that all was not well, but he had to find some way of getting the man to talk. Raising his head and looking over at his visitor, Eradan raised an eyebrow in a gesture that Elrohir suddenly recognized as an expression learned from his father.

"Well?" The ranger straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, turning to face the doorway. "No, I would say that all is definitely not well, Elrohir."

Without waiting for an invitation, the half-elf crossed the room, righted the fallen chair and sat down upon it, facing Eradan. "Why do you say that?" His voice was bland but encouraging, as he tried to discover what was on the man's mind.

"I lied." Eradan's statement was uttered matter-of-factly, and yet gave no hint as to what he referred.

"What did you lie about, and to whom?" Elrohir felt his breathing quicken at the thought that Eradan might finally be ready to tell him the secret he had hidden for the last eight years.

"I lied to you, your father, Lady Gilraen, and even to myself." Eradan shook his head abruptly, a bitter expression twisting his features. At the confused look on Elrohir's face, he elaborated. "I said it could do no harm to give Aragorn another name for his protection. His manner in that room proved the lie." Eradan braced his hands against the mattress as if to push himself to his feet, but seemed to think better of it and slumped down instead, his hands falling loosely into his lap.

Elrohir had seen his friend in many situations over the past few years. He knew that when Eradan was agitated or worried, he preferred to pace, or stand and look out over the terrain as he thought. The injuries he had sustained must surely grate on his nerves at times like this. "You suggested it because you thought it would protect him. In that, you may be correct. Do not fault yourself for that."

Eradan looked out toward the balcony, away from Elrohir as he spoke. "He has always known that the world beyond this valley was a dangerous one. The fear his mother feels every time his father rides off has shown him this. Aragorn has always been a perceptive child. I fear he sees more than most suspect. It would not surprise me to discover that even now, he still has the occasional nightmare from his own encounter with orcs at the age of two." A sweep of his hand toward his leg punctuated his next words. "You saw the fear in him when he saw my injuries as clearly as I did. He feared both for my life and for his father, still out on patrol, fighting the monsters that nearly killed me. No, Aragorn has never had the illusion that this world was a safe place. And yet…" Eradan sighed and turned to meet Elrohir's eyes. "Even with all of that, he had never considered that he and his sister might be targeted. He still believed in the sanctity and safety of this hidden valley. I stripped that belief from him tonight. No, my friend, I have done him a disservice this night."

Elrohir crossed his arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you not overstating things a bit? Your ideas were sound, or we would not have all agreed with you. They were brought here to be hidden away, to be kept safe. It is true that Aragorn's name is distinctive, and that visitors could easily discover it and carry that knowledge away from here. Is it truly an evil that he will now regard visitors with more caution than before? That caution could save his life."

"Caution is one thing, suspicion another," Eradan retorted. "Elrohir, he is a child, barely ten years old! There is time for him to learn caution as he grows older. Should he not have this time to simply be a child, to enjoy his life and worry about things like safety and enemies out to destroy his family at a later time?"

"A worthy idea, perhaps," Elrohir leaned forward, "but a bit misplaced. If he were any other human child, what would his life be like? Too many villages live under the constant threat of attack from orcs, trolls and other dark creatures, not to mention the dangers from other men such as raiders and slavers. Even creatures of the wild pose a danger if a child strays too far from his home. As you said, this is a dangerous world, and few are as protected as Aragorn and Lothrin have been." Elrohir let out a soft sigh and slumped back into his chair, his voice softening. "I, too, wish that the children could be raised in a time of peace, where danger does not lurk around every bend. But that is not the world we live in. Aragorn knows that already, and we will all be here to help him through any difficulty he may have. You have not single-handedly destroyed his belief in a world of absolute safety, so I would appreciate it if you would stop beating yourself over this." Elrohir's eyes narrowed as he stared at the man. "The orcs have already done a rather thorough job of that for now, don't you agree?"

Eradan could not help the surprised bark of laughter that escaped him. Throughout his life, it had ever been his brothers who pulled him out of the depths of self-pity and despair. They usually did it in exactly this manner, pointing out the flaws in his reasoning and pushing him to see beyond himself. With a sigh, he relaxed the tense posture he had acquired as Elrohir had been speaking. Slipping easily back into the relationship he had always had with his brothers, Eradan replied without thinking. "You are correct, as always, Elrohir. I bow to your superior wisdom." He sketched a short bow as best he could while still sitting on the edge of the bed. His playful response surprised a grin out of Elrohir, and Eradan returned it freely before he maneuvered himself more fully on the bed, stretching his leg out before him, and leaning back against the mound of pillows at the head of his bed. "I have missed this," he mused quietly.

"Missed what?" Elrohir asked with a chuckle. "Having someone lecture you? If you simply tell my father of this lack in your life, I feel sure he would oblige you."

Eradan laughed more fully than he had in a long time. "I am sure he would, but that is not exactly what I meant. I missed…" he stopped in mid-sentence, realizing he could not finish as intended. He had started to say that he missed having a brother around to talk sense into him; he simply missed his brothers. During this discussion, he realized that Elrohir was truly treating him as a brother, as he would treat Elladan. While this was the relationship that he as Estel had always had with the twins, it was the first time either of them had treated Eradan in quite this way. Thinking back to the recent meeting in Elrond's office, a wild hope lit Aragorn's heart and he stared intently at Elrohir as he asked a question. "Why did you suggest the name Estel in your father's office?"

Blinking at the abrupt change in subject, Elrohir paused a moment, wondering what to say. Should he tell Eradan what he knew? "It seemed appropriate," he finally commented, taking care with his answer.

"And there was no other reason?" Eradan pressed, shifting his body slightly so that he could face Elrohir more fully.

"What other reason should I have?" Elrohir asked, watching the man's face, seeing the play of emotions, hope, caution and anticipation flicker across his features.

"None, I suppose." Eradan looked away, easing back from the subject. "I merely wondered how you chose that name, as it is not a common one among the Dúnedain."

"I would imagine I heard it somewhere." Elrohir kept his voice light, watching Eradan. "You did not finish your sentence earlier. What was it that you miss?"

Eradan looked back to meet Elrohir's eyes for a long moment before he quietly answered. "I miss feeling as part of a family."

Holding his gaze, Elrohir saw all the loneliness and pain that Eradan had chosen to let him see. Elrohir did not protest that he, Elladan and Arathorn's family were his family. He knew all too well that there was a barrier between Eradan and all those around him. The barrier that isolated him was the secret he had kept for all these years. Would it do more harm or good to let Eradan know that he had discovered his secret? If it would drop the barrier between them and help to ease the man's loneliness, Elrohir knew he had to take the chance.

"Aragorn." His voice was soft, but it carried clearly to the man on the bed.

A puzzled look crossed Eradan's face. "What about Aragorn?"

Giving the man a gentle smile, Elrohir rose from his chair and moved to sit on the edge of Eradan's bed, facing the man. "Aragorn. Estel, I know who you truly are. There is no need to continue pretending with me, my brother."

The ranger's eyes widened with surprise and a wild hope as he abruptly leaned forward and grasped Elrohir's shoulders. "Elrohir!" His voice was excited and his face was bright with joy. "How did you find me? You don't know how long I've been waiting, hoping for a chance to go home again." At Elrohir's stricken expression, the man released his grip on his brother's shoulders and slumped back against the pillows, putting his hands over his face. His next words were muffled, "You're not my Elrohir, are you? You have not come to take me back home."

Elrohir's heart broke at the sorrow in Eradan's voice. "No, I am sorry," he apologized, laying a tentative hand on Eradan's uninjured leg. "I did not intend to distress you so. I overheard you and Mithrandir speaking on the balcony during his last visit. I wanted you to know that I know who you are, where you come from." He paused a moment before continuing. "You are not alone here, Aragorn. I may not be the brother you remember, but I am your brother, or would like to be, if you will have me as such. Please, forgive my thoughtlessness in stirring your hope of returning home."

Lowering his hands from his face, Aragorn allowed Elrohir to see the sparkle of unshed tears in his eyes. "I do not blame you, Elrohir, but for a moment, I had such hope…"

The despair in the man's eyes prompted Elrohir to shift over on the bed and wrap his arms around Eradan's shoulders in a gentle embrace. He was unsure if the ranger would accept such comfort from him, but he was encouraged to feel Eradan's arms encircle his back as he rested his head against Elrohir's shoulder. Elrohir tightened his embrace as he felt Eradan shaking with silent sobs. He gently rubbed a hand up and down Aragorn's back, soothing him as he would a child. The thought struck him that the other Elrohir must have done this very thing many times for his human brother.

After a brief time, Eradan's tears ceased, and he pulled away from Elrohir to sit back against his pillows. Wiping the remaining tear tracks from his face, he stared warily at the elf. "I would imagine that you have many questions."

An arched eyebrow was Elrohir's response to the ridiculous nature of the comment. Of course he had questions! However, he would refrain from bombarding the man with all of his questions while he was so tired and vulnerable. "Yes, I do, but they can wait. You look tired. Perhaps you would prefer to rest now and we can discuss this in the morning?"

Closing his eyes for a moment and lowering his head, Aragorn struggled to pull his thoughts together. Opening his eyes again, Aragorn looked up and met Elrohir's questioning gaze. "No, I would prefer if we spoke now, and made sure matters are clear between us." His voice was firm as he dropped all traces of Eradan and faced Elrohir for the first time as Aragorn, his posture straightening and his expression becoming stern.

Elrohir was taken aback when the man before him met his eyes steadily. It was no longer Eradan looking back at him. For some reason, he had not fully comprehended that he had never met this Aragorn. He had assumed that what Eradan chose to show them was whom he truly was, the lighthearted young man that occasionally withdrew into his own thoughts. The person he now faced was someone he did not know. There was a presence about the man that he had never felt before. He suddenly realized that this Aragorn had commanded men in battle and knew the burdens of deciding the fate of others. A wealth of knowledge and experience shone out of the grey eyes now staring at him. Elrohir drew in a breath and let it out slowly, waiting for Aragorn to speak first. For the moment, all of his questions had fled his mind, leaving him staring at the stranger in front of him, unsure how to proceed.

Watching the uncertainty flicker across Elrohir's face, Aragorn's lips quirked upwards at the corner in a sad smile. "Am I truly so foreign to you now, my brother?"

"Brother?" Elrohir asked softly, questioning the offer he had made not so long ago. "Are we brothers? I realized only now that I do not know you. How then can we be brothers?" He watched uncomfortably as Aragorn's smile faded and a flash of pain darted across his face.

"I may have hidden much from you, Elrohir, but you know me. It was me whom you first met the day of the attack on Arathorn eight years ago. I was the one who tried so hard to become your friend, to encourage you to befriend the children, the one you have laughed with and fought beside all these years." Aragorn's expression was serious as he worked to convince Elrohir not to treat him as a stranger.

A thought occurred to Elrohir. "Your fighting skills have always far surpassed what a young man of your supposed age should know. Everything we taught you, in fighting, history, and healing, you already knew." He did not know whether to feel outraged that all the teaching had been wasted, or sympathy for the man who had to sit through lessons of things he had learned many years ago.

Aragorn gave a slight shrug. "I could hardly show my true knowledge, could I? It would be rather difficult to explain. As Eradan gained knowledge, it has been easier for me. But yes, his exuberance for all knowledge was an attempt to hide the fact that I knew things I should not." A smile crept across his face. "I must say it was much easier the second time through. I was not nearly so quick a student as a child, though I was always quicker at swordplay than at history."

Noticing that Aragorn referred to Eradan as a different person than himself, Elrohir tilted his head and stared at the man. He could not help but wonder what that must have been like for him, being forced to live as someone he was not, keeping the two identities separate for so long. "How have you managed all these years, pretending to be a young, untried ranger when it is obvious that you have lived a great many years beyond Eradan's experience? Maintaining another identity must have been quite difficult."

Giving Elrohir a lopsided smile, Aragorn shrugged again. "It was not the first time I have had to do such a thing. I traveled extensively as a young man, and it was not always safe for me to be known by my true name. I have been known by many names in my life. Eradan was simply another such disguise, though by far the most difficult one for me. In all my other travels, I have never had to hide myself from my friends and family. You do not know how difficult this has been, not to tell you, Elladan, Ada…I mean Lord Elrond." Shaking his head at his slip, Aragorn chuckled slightly. "And now you see the truth behind my 'delirium' when I first awoke from my injuries. I did not remember at the time where and who I was."

Remembering the pain in Eradan's voice when he first awoke, Elrohir frowned. They had not been sure he would survive the infection at the time, and Elrohir once again gave thanks that the life of the one before him had been spared. Forcing his thoughts away from the dark paths they had trodden as he watched over the injured man, Elrohir looked at the man in curiosity. "You mentioned something about falling from a tree while following Elladan? May I hear the story behind that?"

Studying the one he had always known as a brother, Aragorn nodded. "I will share the stories of my childhood with you, but we must discuss a few other things first. I must ask that you tell no others of what you have learned about me. Mithrandir is the only one whom I have told about myself. I did so in the hopes that he could help me to get back to my time, to the world and people I left behind. It was a vain hope. I still do not know the purpose in my presence here, other than that I was given the chance to save my father's life, and it was an opportunity I could not pass up."

Seeing the opening he had been given, Elrohir leaned forward expectantly. "Though you do not know why you are here, can you tell me anything about how you arrived here?" The curiosity over how someone could travel back to the past had been eating at Elrohir from the moment he overheard that conversation.

Shifting on the bed to get more comfortable, Aragorn inclined his head, then closed his eyes, thinking back to that night, eight years ago. "I was with you and Elladan in the guest chambers. My son had recently been born, and my wife had banished all three of us from the room for a time." He opened his eyes, and the twinkle in them invited Elrohir to share in a joke he did not yet know. "Apparently, we were hovering over both her and my son and she needed some time of peace and quiet." A casual one-shouldered shrug as well as the wide smile on the man's face showed that the night was a happy memory. "So, to allow her and the child to rest, we retreated to your rooms for the evening. We spent the time talking, sharing memories of our own childhoods, and simply rejoicing in the life that had been gifted to us. While we spoke, we began discussing our own parents, and the things that we wished could have been different. I expressed a wish to have known Arathorn. I had been so young when he was killed that I had no memories of him. Elrond was the only father I had ever known. You and Elladan expressed a wish to have been able to spare your mother her pain and keep her in Arda." Aragorn's expression darkened, and he went on to tell Elrohir of the voice in the darkness telling him that he would be given the chance to save Arathorn, but that he would do so in the body of another, and would have to live with the consequences. Then he told of waking that morning in the camp and seeing Arathorn for the first time. "And you know the tale from there," Aragorn finished, watching Elrohir closely for his reaction.

Elrohir's eyes were wide in amazement as he listened to Aragorn's tale. It was nearly unbelievable, but he found he did believe every word. He had heard and seen too much with Aragorn to do otherwise. His eyes narrowed as he thought back over Aragorn's words. There had been no mention of his wife's name, or that of his son's, which meant he was being very careful not to give away too much information about future events. The mention of guest chambers gave Elrohir pause, however. That made it seem as though Aragorn lived in a place much larger than the houses usually used by the Chieftain of the Dúnedain. If he and his wife had lived in Imladris, then the twins would not have been in guest quarters, but their own rooms. He began piecing together these small clues and the sense of command emanating from the man. It was true that the line of Isildur's heirs were all royalty, even if they did not currently have a kingdom, but Aragorn seemed more like the kings of old than many of his line, and Elrohir drew in a sudden breath. Could it be that he was sitting here with the man who would reclaim the throne?

As he watched the realization come over Elrohir, Aragorn cursed to himself. Apparently he had given away more than he had thought in his tale. "Elrohir." His voice was firm as he spoke to gain Elrohir's attention. The elf jerked his gaze back to meet Aragorn's, wonder and question in his eyes. "I cannot give you information on the future without the possibility that events will change. While I will answer questions on my childhood, and events up to the current time, I will not share information on anything that could have a direct impact on the future. Any conjecture you may have will have to remain just that, conjecture. I hope that you will honor that and not ask any questions about the future that I have lived."

Forcing his curiosity aside, Elrohir nodded. "Very well. I will agree to those terms. I have already discovered the danger of depending on future knowledge to decide my current actions. When in council earlier this evening, I found myself watching you for any clue as to what my actions should be in regards to the troll situation. It did not take me long to decide that I could not rely on you, and must make my decisions as I always do. I have already fought that battle, Aragorn. I will honor your request."

"And my request not to tell anyone what you know about me, not even Elladan or Adar?" Aragorn's expression softened as he saw the uncertainty cross Elrohir's face. "I know what it is I ask, Elrohir. I know how difficult it will be for you to keep this secret. But it can do no good for anyone else to know. The more people who know, the more chance there is that events will change, far beyond anyone's control. Many things must happen in the future, and not all of them will be good. But I fear changing anything more than has already been changed." Leaning forward, Aragorn braced his hands on the mattress and held Elrohir's gaze intently. "Do I have your word on this?"

Taking a deep breath and studying the eyes of the man before him, Elrohir searched his heart and decided to trust this brother of his. "You have it," he said softly, watching relief flood Aragorn's face as he slumped back against his pillows again. Elrohir watched as he rubbed absently at his leg. "Does your leg pain you again?"

Waving a hand in dismissal, Aragorn shook his head. "It is only a dull ache. Nothing to worry about." Shifting to recline more comfortably, he looked back to Elrohir. "Would you like to hear the tale of me following Elladan into the tree now?" Reaching beside him, he grabbed a pillow and tossed it over to Elrohir. "You may as well make yourself comfortable." When Elrohir had taken the pillow and settled it between his back and the bedpost, Aragorn began his story. "I was only twelve at the time, and thought myself capable of doing anything that my older brothers could do." Aragorn's voice held a smile as he recounted the tale to Elrohir. One tale led to another, and they spoke long into the night, allowing Elrohir to come to know the man he had accepted as a brother.

As Aragorn began yawning in the middle of another tale, Elrohir straightened. "Perhaps we should call it a night and continue this at another time. You need your rest, and I admit to being somewhat weary myself."

Rousing himself from his nest of pillows, Aragorn struggled more fully upright, being careful in how he moved his leg. "You are correct, I believe." Glancing around, Aragorn began shifting carefully over to the edge of his bed so that he could change into his sleeping attire.

Standing as he watched the cautious movements, Elrohir offered his aid, if it were needed.

Offering the elf a tired smile, Aragorn shook his head. "No, thank you, Elrohir. I have been able to dress myself for bed for many decades now. I would appreciate it, however, if you could hand me my walking stick. My leg has stiffened up and I fear I would not make it two steps beyond this bed."

"Of course," Elrohir said, picking up the stick and then handing it over to the man, then watching long enough to see that he was able to stand and begin moving toward the dresser. "I will take my leave of you then. Good night, my brother."

"Good night, brother." Aragorn's smile was tired, but genuine, and he obviously took pleasure in the fact that Elrohir still considered him a brother. Inclining his head in acknowledgment, Elrohir stepped out of the room and left Aragorn to ready himself for the night.

They did not have the chance to speak much the next morning, as shortly after the morning meal, Elladan and Elrohir rode off with Baran to join Arathorn's patrol and hunt down the trolls. Eradan saw them off from the front steps to the house, watching as they headed out of the hidden valley. Nodding to himself, Eradan headed back into the house, hoping that events would follow their proper course.

Betas: Radbooks, Chris, Beth, and Raina

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 13

Over the next few weeks, those in the house began referring to Aragorn as Ari, and Eradan had several discussions with the child to help him come to terms with his new knowledge of danger. It was not long before Lothrin also referred to her brother as Ari. As a result of their discussions, he began acting more like himself, and Eradan began to hope that the youth would not see each visitor as a potential enemy. He wanted Ari to be able to enjoy the remainder of his childhood, and he was encouraged as he saw the young boy once again playing with his sister and running through Imladris as usual.

It was the first week of June when the twins returned, saying they had met Mithrandir on the road and that he would soon follow with the rest of his company, a hobbit and several dwarves. The brothers had joined Elrond and Eradan in Elrond's office upon their arrival, enduring a brief appraisal by their father to be sure they were uninjured. Elladan stood at the window looking out over the valley, while Elrohir chose to sit near Eradan to avail himself of the tray of bread and drinks sitting on the table.

"Did you find the trolls?" Elrond asked his sons, looking back and forth between them as he leaned back against the edge of his desk.

"No, and we should be out there looking for them," Elladan said, waving a hand toward the rest of the valley. "We found tracks and could not have been far from them, but Mithrandir insisted we return home and inform you of his imminent arrival. Now that we have done so, we should head back out immediately." His impatience was clear in every line of his body as well as in his words.

"Tomorrow will be soon enough," Elrond responded, studying his son. "You can take tonight to eat and rest and then leave with the dawn if you like. But I would ask that you rest at least one night before returning to the hunt with Arathorn and his men."

Elladan turned to face his father, displeasure clearly writ across his face. "The longer we stay here, the longer those trolls go unopposed and the more chances there are that people will be hurt." His expression made it clear that he did not understand why Elrond did not wish them to leave immediately.

"It is unlikely that one night will make much of a difference," Elrond said calmly, staring at his son. "You have been on the hunt for several weeks, and you both appear fatigued. You will be more alert and better able to hunt if you leave here rested. As your father, I ask that you accede to my wishes in this matter. I only ask it out of concern for the both of you."

Barely holding in an impatient sigh, Elladan bowed his head to his father with poorly concealed annoyance. "Yes, Adar. It will be as you wish. We will remain here tonight and ride out with the dawn." With those words, Elladan strode from the room to seek the solitude of his quarters.

Elrohir glanced sideways at Eradan, noting that he had not spoken up to recommend they return immediately to the hunt, then looked back to his father. "I, for one, will appreciate the comforts of my own home and bed this night. Do not worry about Elladan's moods, Adar. He merely feels at times that we are the only ones able to stop all the evils of our world." Elrohir's tone was flippant as he tried to cover for his brother's impatience.

A wry grin twisted Elrond's lips almost against his will as he chuckled. "Do not fear, Elrohir. I am well acquainted with your brother's ways." Gathering up a book and several papers from his desk, he nodded to Elrohir and Eradan. "If you will excuse me, I have several tasks awaiting my attention. I will see you both at dinner this evening."

Elrohir waited until his father had also left the room before turning to face Eradan. "You have been rather quiet. Is there anything about this situation I should know?" The curiosity burned brightly in his eyes, but he was not sure if he would receive an answer to his question.

A faint smile quirked the corners of Eradan's lips. "I did not speak, for I felt that Elladan would not appreciate my advice. If all occurs as it did before, the trolls are no longer a threat, so there is no point in your returning to the hunt. I would advise that you seek out Mithrandir when you leave tomorrow and find out from him if the hunt is still necessary. You may be able to return home sooner than you thought."

Try as he might, Elrohir could pry no further details from Eradan, and had to give in and wait until he saw Mithrandir to find out what Eradan meant.

Elladan and Elrohir left before dawn the next morning, not giving any in the house the opportunity to see them off.

It was late evening two days hence when Elladan and Elrohir returned with Gandalf and the rest of his company, creating a ruckus as they entered. Mithrandir introduced each of the thirteen dwarves to the members of the household and the dwarves bowed respectfully, staring around in curiosity and no small amount of wariness at the splendor of Elrond's home. Bilbo was introduced last, and as he expressed his greetings, his stomach rumbled quite loudly, bringing a flush to his cheeks. As befit a gracious host, Elrond arranged for a feast for the nearly starving visitors. Once they were all seated around a table piled high with food, the travelers regaled them with tales of what had happened upon their journey. They were quite enthusiastic as they explained how Gandalf tricked the trolls into staying out until the sun had risen, thus turning them to stone. Elladan and Elrohir spoke then of meeting up with Mithrandir and the others as they were returning to the hunt. Upon finding out that the trolls were no longer a threat, they chose to escort the travelers back to Imladris.

During a lull in the conversation, Gandalf turned to Eradan. "So, where are the children tonight?"

"Ari and Lothrin are in bed by now," Eradan replied, making sure that Mithrandir had caught the new name for Aragorn. "We can introduce them in the morning."

Nodding, Mithrandir indicated that he understood. Turning to look back at the dwarves and Bilbo, he saw a large yawn overtake the hobbit. As the travelers finished their meal, they seemed to discover how tired they were. Elrond stood and arranged for his guests to be shown to their rooms for the night, leaving Gandalf, Eradan and Elrohir alone. The wizard stood and stretched, loosening his aching muscles. Elrohir followed suit, rising immediately after him, moving to join him as he turned to leave the dining room.

Eradan was the last to rise from the table, for he was still hampered by his leg. The injury had healed, but it would still be some time before he could use his leg as he had before. Mithrandir and Elrohir lingered, waiting for him to join them as they moved toward the hallway. Eradan no longer used his walking stick, but now walked with a heavy limp.

Watching the man approach, Gandalf nodded in approval and clapped the man on the back. "It seems you are healing well. I would have expected you to need the walking stick for some time yet."

A wry grin crossed Eradan's face. "And here I was thinking that I am healing too slowly. I have not been able to pick up a sword and resume practice since my injury. It is, however, giving me more time to practice my archery." He glanced down at the long sword hanging at the wizard's side. "Speaking of swords, may I compliment you on your new acquisition? Glamdring will serve you well in the years to come."

Mithrandir raised an eyebrow at Eradan's words, glancing aside at Elrohir. "And how did you come to know the name of this sword? I have not mentioned it, and even my companions do not know that I am able to read the runes upon the blade."

A chuckle escaped Eradan as he glanced around the room to be sure there were none nearby to overhear their words. "Elrohir knows, Gandalf. He overheard us speaking during your last visit. When it is only the three of us, you may speak freely. Though I believe we should all be more careful about what we say where others may hear."

Mithrandir gave Elrohir an appraising look, then glanced back and forth between Eradan and Elrohir, judging their level of comfort with each other. "Good. There could be no better friend for Eradan than you, Elrohir. I am glad he has you to confide in."

Studying the wizard, and remembering his behavior the day he had overheard the conversation, Elrohir came to a realization. "You already knew this, did you not? You knew that I had heard the two of you speaking." He became more convinced as he watched Mithrandir's face. "Did you know that I was listening at the time? Thinking back now, it certainly seems as if you were guiding the conversation so that Eradan would tell enough of his story to answer most questions I might have had."

Raising a hand, Mithrandir looked between the two younger beings. "Yes, Elrohir, I knew you were in the next room." At the small sound of protest from Eradan, Gandalf turned his attention back to the man. "Peace, Eradan. I knew you would not speak of your secret to another, but I felt you needed at least one other person upon whom you could rely. Elrohir, I knew, would honor your wishes for secrecy, and do all in his power to help you in any way he could. I admit that I took advantage of his nearness to bring him in on your secret, but it was for your own good."

Narrowing his eyes, Eradan glared at the wizard. "For my own good?" Glancing aside at Elrohir, he felt his anger ease. Truly, it had helped him greatly to have Elrohir know him for himself, allowing him to speak to him of things he could share with no other. "Thank you," he said quietly, meeting Mithrandir's eyes for a moment. "And now, if you will excuse me, I believe it is time I sought my bed for the evening. We will speak further in the morning." Since Elrohir's room was just down the hall from Eradan's, he also said good night to the wizard and escorted his brother to the family wing, speaking quietly with the man.

The next morning, Eradan was already seated at the table with Mithrandir and the rest of the recent arrivals by the time Ari and Lothrin came running into the room, followed more slowly by Gilraen. Seeing the strangers seated at the table, the children came to a skidding stop just inside the doorway, staring.

Smiling at the looks of wide-eyed amazement on their faces, Eradan gestured for the children to enter. "Come in, you two. We have company, and I would like to introduce you to them." Lothrin clung to her brother's hand and tried to hide behind him as they walked hesitantly over to Eradan's side. The ranger reached down to pull Lothrin up to his lap, and she hid her face in the crook of his neck, peeking out through his hair. Placing a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, Eradan introduced him as Ari.

"And the shy one here is Lothrin," he said, a hand on her back in reassurance. Nodding to each of the visitors, Eradan introduced each one in turn. "Ari, Lothrin, this is Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur and Bilbo. You already know Mithrandir." At the list of names, Lothrin turned around to face the many unfamiliar faces around the table. She giggled as Eradan recited their names.

"And what do you find so amusing, my little flower?" Eradan asked, reaching up and gently tickling the nape of her neck. She giggled more and squirmed away from his hand.

"They have funny names," she said, speaking in Sindarin, the first language she had learned. She understood and could speak Westron well enough, but she was far more comfortable with the elven language, and did not seem to realize that Eradan had been speaking in Westron. Eradan nodded politely to Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir as they entered the room and took their seats without interrupting the interaction between their guests and the children.

"What did she say?" Bilbo asked in curiosity. He had heard some of the elves speaking the same language, but did not understand the words.

Chuckling, Eradan shook his head. "She has never heard names like yours. Growing up here, she has heard only elven and Dúnedain names." He lightly tapped Lothrin's nose. "You should speak Westron, little one. Our guests do not understand Sindarin."

Before Lothrin could respond, Ari spoke up, a hint of wonder in his voice. "You're dwarves, aren't you?" He had been studying them since the moment he had entered the room, and had finally found his voice.

The dwarves nodded, while Bilbo spoke up, a little flustered. "I am not a dwarf. I'm a hobbit!"

"What is a hobbit?" Lothrin asked in careful, precise Westron. She looked at Bilbo in curiosity. Climbing down from Eradan's lap, she walked around the table to stand beside Bilbo's chair.

Climbing down from his chair, Bilbo gave her a short bow, ever polite. "I am a Hobbit, child."

Lothrin grinned as she looked up at him, then back over her shoulder to her brother as he walked over to stand protectively at her side. He was slightly taller than Bilbo, and the realization brought a grin to his own face. "Someone to play with!" Lothrin squealed, jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

Bilbo smiled down at the child. Her happiness broke through his earlier irritation. "I may not look it to your eyes, but I am an adult, Lothrin. I am not another child to play with, even if your brother is taller than I."

Lothrin frowned slightly, tilting her head. The logic didn't seem to make sense to her. She turned and pointed to where Elladan, Elrohir and Eradan sat on the other side of the table. "They play with me."

Following her finger, Bilbo took in the sight of two obviously adult elves and a grown man. Apparently, she was used to having adult playmates, and age made no difference to her. "Well, in that case, perhaps we can play later. But I believe your food is getting cold. Can we eat our meal first?" He gazed longingly at the food on his plate, eager to get back to it.

Nodding at him, her eyes bright, Lothrin skipped over to her normal chair and climbed up in it, ready to eat. Ari watched the hobbit for a moment longer before offering him a smile. "She loves to play tea party, so at least you'll get some food out of it. That's if she decides she doesn't want imaginary food, anyway."

Bilbo watched as the boy went back to his seat and started filling his plate. His eyes remained on the children a moment, a bemused expression on his face, then he returned to his seat and resumed eating his meal. He did not seem to know what to think of the children any more than they knew what to think of him.

Throughout the meal, Ari and Lothrin peppered the visitors with questions, drawing out stories and tales of lands far away and strange to the children. Eradan was pleased to see that there was no reticence on Ari's part toward their guests. As soon as the meal was complete, Lothrin approached Bilbo, taking him by the hand and leading him to her playroom. Ari followed behind, speaking animatedly with the hobbit the entire way.

Over the next few days, Bilbo spent a great deal of time in the company of the children. They considered it their duty to show him all of their favorite places to play as well as introduce him to all the elves they knew and loved. Quite often, one or more of the dwarves, most notably Kili and Fili, the youngest of the dwarven companions, accompanied the three. Though Eradan was greatly pleased to see the friendship growing between the children and Bilbo, he was unsure if he should allow them to grow close to the dwarven brothers, knowing that they would not return from this quest. If history repeated, Fili and Kili would die defending Thorin. In the end, however, he decided that the grief the children would feel was not enough for him to interfere in their befriending the dwarves. It was better to enjoy friends while they were there than to close off an open heart to the ability to love. Besides, there was no assurance that history would repeat exactly. There was always a chance that Fili, Kili and Thorin would survive this time. He had to keep a firm grasp on his desire to confide in Gandalf and see if the wizard would be able to prevent their deaths. However, his fear of changing history, especially at this particular point in time, kept him silent.

It had been nearly a week that Gandalf and his traveling companions had been in Rivendell when a rider from Lothlórien arrived in the valley. The rider insisted on speaking directly with Elrond, and upon finding that Gandalf was also in residence, insisted that the Istar join the discussion. As the three disappeared behind closed doors, Elrohir gave Eradan an inquiring look, wondering what was happening. A shake of the head was all the response Eradan gave. Elrohir would find out soon enough the meaning of the meeting. Eradan returned to the library where he had been studying a text on herbs used in healing, followed by Elrohir. The elf did not ask questions, but it was clear to Eradan that his curiosity was disrupting Elrohir's ability to concentrate on his own book.

After an hour, Elrond sent pages to summon his sons, Glorfindel and Erestor to join him. Eradan looked up and met Elrohir's eyes as the elf left the room, knowing that he was about to be told of the next meeting of the White Council.

It was some time later that Gandalf, Elrohir and the messenger from Lothlórien exited the room, leaving Glorfindel, Erestor, Elladan and Elrond in the study. Elrohir escorted their visitor to a guest room while Gandalf joined Eradan in the library. The wizard made his way over to a window, where he looked out over the valley thoughtfully, filling and lighting his pipe, seemingly ignoring the man watching him from one of the plush reading chairs near the door.

Well accustomed to Gandalf's ways, Eradan simply placed his book to the side and rose from his chair to go stand at the wizard's side. He held his peace, waiting for the other to speak. The silence lengthened and Eradan felt his patience growing thin. Before he could open his mouth and break the tension, Elrohir joined them in the room, closing the door behind him. Only then did Gandalf turn from his thoughts to face the others. Elrohir crossed the room and took a chair near the window, gesturing for the others to be seated as well. Taking their cue, Eradan and Gandalf chose seats so that they formed a triangle.

It was Gandalf who finally broke the silence. He let a puff of smoke out of his mouth as he looked at Eradan. "I will assume that you are aware of the reason for the messenger from Lothlórien?"

"I believe so," Eradan answered cautiously, not sure what questions he would be asked.

Hearing the wary tone of voice, Gandalf raised a hand. "Do not fear, Aragorn. I will not ask what you can not tell. The White Council has been summoned to meet in Lothlórien a few months hence. My task with the dwarves will not be complete by that time. Had it not been for your insistence of the importance of their quest, I would not hesitate to join the council as is my duty. I merely wanted to ask you if this task is so important that I should remain with Thorin and his company and miss the meeting?"

A flash of panic crossed Aragorn's face at the thought before he could control it. "No," he said immediately, trying very hard to keep his voice even. Shaking his head in disgust at his inability to control his own emotions, Aragorn met Gandalf's eyes. "Your answer is in your question. Had it not been for me, you would have left Thorin and the others to their own devices for a time and journeyed to the council meeting. You must follow your own heart in that matter."

Eyes narrowed, Gandalf studied the man before him, seeking the reason for the sudden panic. "What happens that you think my presence at this council meeting so important?"

Aragorn's expression hardened, his features seemingly turning to stone. He sat back slowly in his chair, thinking over his response. "I am attempting to keep history on its proper course, Gandalf. You attended the meeting the first time around, thus you must attend this time." Glancing aside at Elrohir, he sought to deflect the wizard's attention. "May I assume that your father, Glorfindel and Erestor are all making plans to attend?"

With a nod, Elrohir answered. "Yes, they leave Elladan and me behind to see to matters in Imladris while they journey to Lothlórien."

Though Elrohir's expression strove for impassive, Aragorn had enough experience with the youngest twin to read the deeper emotions he tried to hide. "And you are not happy about being left behind, are you?"

A grimace crossed Elrohir's face. "It would seem you know me too well, brother. No, I do not appreciate being left behind. I understand that it is our duty to remain here and see to our people in the absence of not only our father, but Erestor and Glorfindel as well. However, as a son of Elrond, I wish to ride out by his side, to see to his protection."

Giving Elrohir a stern glance, Aragorn asked, "Do you not trust Glorfindel, of all people, to see to your father's protection? He, Erestor, and all of the guards he will take with him are hardy warriors and not likely to allow anything to happen to the lord of this valley."

"I realize that," Elrohir said. His eyes closed momentarily as he bowed his head, pausing before continuing. He opened his eyes and met Aragorn's steady gaze. "I know they will protect him, but it is not my mind that is the source of this fear. Ever since our mother was attacked, my heart has feared watching my father ride off without me." His gaze was locked on Aragorn's face. "I will not ask anything you cannot share, but you would do me a great favor if you could but assuage this fear. If you tell me that my father will return to us, safe and whole, I will believe you and take comfort in your words."

Aragorn hesitated only a moment before speaking. "You have my word that in my history, all those who rode out for this council meeting returned whole and safe." Glancing aside at Gandalf, and considering the impact of his words, Aragorn decided to go ahead and speak further of the future than he had before. "Even at the time I left, Elrond was alive and well. He was always there for me as a child, and throughout my adult life. While I cannot make any guarantees that history will remain unchanged, as far as I know, your father will remain safe."

Gandalf turned a disbelieving look on Aragorn. "You have been careful not to say such things about our future. Why do you break your silence now?"

Aragorn lowered his gaze, not meeting the wizard's eyes. "If I can ease the fear of a brother for one he loves, I will gladly do so. It is true that there are many things of which I will not speak, but this is one small thing that I may do." Looking up slowly, he met Elrohir's gaze. "Though, as I said, I can give no guarantees that things will not change. I have seen some changes already, but few of those should have any affect on this."

"I thank you," Elrohir said softly, holding the man's gaze, allowing Aragorn to see what the reassurance meant to him.

A tilt of the head in acknowledgment was Aragorn's response. "You are welcome." He turned his attention to the wizard. "I was never privy to all that was discussed during this council meeting, and I do not know if any mention was ever made of Elrond's foster-son, Estel. I will ask, however, that you refrain from mentioning Ari, and if possible, keep any others from mentioning him, as well."

Eyeing the man with a great deal of curiosity, Gandalf asked his next question warily. "Do you have reason to distrust any of those on the council?"

Glancing out toward the window and the valley beyond, Aragorn thought how best to answer. He could not give any indication that Saruman was not to be trusted, it was too early for that. But he was afraid that Gandalf would sense a lie. He would have to be quite careful here. "I feel it is my duty to protect Arathorn and his entire family, especially Ari. They will all be safer if fewer people know of their presence here. I seek to ensure their presence remains a secret as much as it may."

"And is that the only reason?" Gandalf asked, his eyes boring into Aragorn's as if he were searching out every secret the man held.

Holding his gaze steady, Aragorn held his tongue, letting his silence speak for him. He had said all he would say on the subject.

Elrohir glanced back and forth between them for a moment before clapping his hands lightly to break their stare. "Well, if that is all that will be said on this subject, I must be going. With father preparing to leave soon, Elladan and I will be busy for quite some time in preparation. If you will both excuse me." He stood up and headed for the door, pausing long enough to look back at Aragorn. "Thank you again." Giving the man no time to respond, he turned and strode from the room.

The wizard turned an inquiring glance toward Aragorn, waiting for a further response. Crossing the room and closing the door, Gandalf then made his way back over to sit across from the man. "You have seemed more burdened and secretive than usual, my friend. I understand that there are many things of which you cannot speak, but is there some way in which I can help relieve your burdens? Is there something about the events happening now that weighs upon you?"

For a long moment, Aragorn stared at the wizard, musing over what he should say. If there were any one person he could trust to help him determine the proper course of action, it would be Gandalf. But how much could he say? A deep sigh escaped him as he decided to broach at least some of what currently burdened him. "Though I fear to say too much, you are correct. This particular point in time is a critical one. Many forces are moving, as yet unseen, but soon to be revealed. I fear to change events, as even a small change now could have unforeseeable consequences. I feel as if I stand on the edge of a knife, and the smallest misstep could prove fatal." Rising from his chair, he strode over to the window, not able to meet the Istar's eyes.

Gazing out over the valley, he continued speaking in a quiet voice. "I know how fragile history is and have been working since my arrival to ensure that things follow their 'proper' course." A sigh escaped him, and the next words he spoke were barely audible, whispered into the silence of the room. "And yet…"

A long pause followed those words, broken at last by the wizard as he rose to join Aragorn near the window. "And yet?" Gandalf's words were soft, encouraging Aragorn to continue with his train of thought.

Leaning his head against the window frame and keeping his gaze focused on the distance, not daring to look at Mithrandir, Aragorn confessed the thoughts that tormented his mind. "Lately, I have found myself tempted to change the course of events, deliberately." The words were reluctant, seemingly pulled from the depths of his soul.

"In what way?" Mithrandir asked, his tone careful and wary. The sudden tension in his body would not have been detectable by those who did not know him, but to Aragorn, it was as apparent as the beard on the wizard's face.

Feeling the wizard's stare, Aragorn shifted his body to lean against the wall, taking his weight off his still healing leg and turning his head to meet Mithrandir's intent gaze. "I dare not interfere in events happening now, but an opportunity should soon arise, one which I will not speak of yet." He crossed his arms over his chest, dropping his gaze to where the hem of the wizard's robe brushed the floor. His words were hesitant, as he worked to decide how much he could say. "There is a great event that occurs in my lifetime, but not for decades hence. If I could complete this task early, it would prevent a great deal of suffering and pain for many. Though it did not happen that way in my world, it would seem to me that the time will soon be right for this task to be completed." In the silence that followed, Aragorn could hear the breathing of both of them, the whisper of fabric as Mithrandir shifted, and his own racing heart thundering in his ears. He never imagined voicing these thoughts aloud, and did not know what to expect now.

"I see," Mithrandir's voice rumbled, his tone impassive, giving Aragorn no clue to his thoughts on this matter. Raising his head once more, he met the wizard's gaze, forcing himself not to flinch away this time. He waited to see what else Mithrandir would say. "I would assume that there are other consequences to be considered if this event were to happen decades early. Did you have some part to play in this event since you know enough to attempt it early?" At Aragorn's nod, Gandalf continued, "And what will happen if Ari is too young to take part in such a task? Do you intend to involve those who were involved the first time, or undertake this task on your own?"

Letting out his breath slowly, Aragorn tightened his arms across his chest. "I had planned to take this task on myself, with only your help, perhaps. Many of those involved originally have not yet been born, or are still very young. And I am considering the many possible consequences, should I decide on this course of action. Without this event, many other things may never happen, and I am weighing all of those consequences now. But my main concern is that if I were to take this task on myself, I may not succeed. The fulfillment of the task was in doubt so many times in my history, and when it did succeed, it was beyond all hope, but I know now that it did and hopefully will again achieve victory. If I were to make the attempt myself, I have no such guarantee. Is this something I should even try, or do I wait for history to catch up to me and let things happen as they did before, knowing the pain and deaths that will occur in the intervening time?"

"Are you asking my opinion, or merely voicing your thoughts aloud?" Mithrandir asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "For me to have an opinion, I fear I would need to know a few more details than you have seen fit to gift me with."

A wry grin twisted Aragorn's lips and he shook his head. "I fear I cannot bring myself to share any more details with you as yet. I must give the matter more thought, but if I truly decide that it is worth attempting to change the course of history, I promise to tell you all I can, and give you all the details you will need to give me a fully informed opinion. At that point, I will listen to all you have to say, and we can make the final decision together. If I decide to allow history to take the same path it did before, I will never mention this again."

Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, Gandalf nodded, holding Aragorn's gaze. "Very well, then. I will trust you to do as you say in this matter. Before you make any decisions, however, I want you to carefully consider the consequences of any action you may or may not take. This does not seem to be only one life you are considering tampering with, but the fate of many. Weigh their best interests against your own desires, and do not treat this lightly."

"I can assure you, I do not treat this lightly at all." Aragorn's voice was firm. "It has occupied my thoughts for weeks now, and I fear that any action I take will be the wrong one. Things could end in disaster if I act precipitously. I am considering all aspects quite thoroughly, trust me on that." He forced himself to uncross his arms and step back, away from the window. Limping over to the chair he had vacated, he sat down heavily, unconsciously rubbing his leg. "I fear that rather than relieving my burden, all I have done is add to yours."

Mithrandir remained by the window, turning to watch Aragorn. "You have certainly aroused my curiosity, I will admit." Seeing the pensive look on the man's face, the wizard nodded abruptly. "And since I have questions you will not answer, I will leave you to your thoughts. I trust that you will come to me if you do decide to take any action that did not happen in your history?" Receiving a nod in return, Mithrandir strode to the door and left the library, leaving the man behind deep in thought.

"Eradan." Hearing his name spoken into the silence that had fallen over the library caused the man to jump. Turning, he saw Elrond standing in the doorway. The elf lord bowed his head briefly. "Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you."

"There is nothing to forgive, my lord," Eradan said, calming his racing heart and rising to his feet, bowing his own head briefly in acknowledgment of the lord of the valley. "I was merely lost in thought and did not notice your arrival. Did you require something?"

"I have a matter that I wish to discuss with you," the elf lord said, stepping into the room. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course," Eradan replied, waving to the chair opposite him in an invitation for the other to sit. "Please, join me."

Closing the door and crossing the room, Elrond took the seat offered, leaning back and studying the man as he once again sat down. His healer's eyes studied the man's movements and the stiffness still evident in his leg. "Does your leg still pain you? You have avoided the healer's room of late, and I have not had a chance to examine how well it is healing." There was a faint chiding note in his voice.

Chuckling, Eradan waved a hand to reassure the healer. "I am not in pain most of the time. My leg is merely stiff and does not move as easily as it once did. I have continued the exercises and the treatments you recommended. It is healing well, and I did not see reason to bother you with it. Is that the reason you sought me out here?"

"No, though I would like to examine your leg in the next few days to see for myself that all is well." He steepled his hands in front of him and stared intently at the ranger. "No, I sought you out for another reason altogether." Glancing briefly at the door, then back to Eradan, Elrond spoke cautiously. "I could not help but notice that immediately upon leaving a council with me, both Mithrandir and Elrohir came here to speak with you. Would you care to tell me why?"

Eradan shrugged awkwardly, his mind working to come up with a reason for such a visit. "Elrohir told me that you would be leaving in a few months, and wanted to inform me that he and Elladan would be quite busy for some time to come and would not be able to help me train as intently as I would wish." He hated lying to Elrond, knowing how easily the elf lord had always seen through such attempts with his foster son, Estel. It occurred to him that Eradan might not have any better luck with evading the truth.

"And Mithrandir? He remained in counsel with you some time after Elrohir left, did he not?" Elrond kept his voice impassive, though he watched the man intently.

Fighting to keep his voice calm and his face from giving anything away, Eradan responded with a tone of confusion. "He wished to discuss how well Aragorn was adapting to his new name and the guests currently residing here." A long glance at Elrond, and an uneasy shift in his chair preceded his next hesitant question. "May I ask the reason for these questions? You seem to be showing an unusual interest in those with whom I speak."

Elrond raised an eyebrow at the young man's questions. "I was simply giving you an opportunity to confide in me the truth that you hide." Holding up a hand as Eradan's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, Elrond silenced the protests forming on the man's lips. "Please hear what I have to say before you speak. It has not escaped my attention that you are not entirely who you claim to be."

"My lord, who else would I be?" Eradan interrupted, unable to help himself, sitting forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. He could not let such a statement go by without challenging it.

A raised hand again silenced Eradan as Elrond tilted his head and studied the man's face. "That, I do not know." He paused a moment, considering how to phrase what he wanted to say. Eradan's eyes fell to his lap and he began fingering the edge of his tunic, rubbing the soft fabric between his fingers in a nervous gesture.

"It is obvious that you are the young man known as Eradan, for you traveled with your father and with Arathorn, and they would know if you were an impostor. But you are not simply a young Dúnadan of twenty-eight years. I have seen a knowledge within you that belies your years, one that cannot be explained simply with the gift of foresight you claim. I have sensed the weight of many more years than you have lived. As you likely know, I can see into the hearts of men, to a point, and I know that you carry some secret within you that you can not, or will not, confide in others." Elrond's eyes flickered briefly toward the door of the library. "From my observations, it appears that both Mithrandir and Elrohir know what secret you hold. I had hoped that you would feel you could confide in me, but if you are unable to do so, I will trust in the judgment of my son and Mithrandir. They trust you, so I will as well. I would appreciate, however, if you could refrain from attempting to deceive me in the future. If there is something that you cannot answer, simply tell me and I will not ask for further clarification. As well, if there is some matter of which you feel I need to be aware, please inform me, and I will take you at your word." Having said what he wished, the elf lord sat back in his chair, folded his hands in his lap and waited for the reaction of his companion.

When Elrond fell silent, Eradan forced his breathing to remain even in an attempt to quiet his roiling emotions. His eyes remained fixed on his lap as he weighed his options in responding to Elrond. Though he could feel the scrutiny of the elf, he would not be rushed into a decision. If he tried to deny that he had secrets, he would be saying that he did not trust Elrond enough to tell him the truth. But he still felt that he should not speak the full truth, at least not yet. It would serve no point. However, Elrond had given him a third choice, and it was that option he chose. Rubbing his hands over his thighs in a slow, deliberate movement, he looked up and finally met the steady, patient gaze directed at him.

"I am honored by your trust, Lord Elrond. All the more so because you offer it without expecting the full truth in return." Allowing his guise of Eradan to slip just enough so that Aragorn peeked out at the elf lord, he apologized. "It was never my wish to deceive you, my lord. There were many times that I considered confiding in you, but the burden I carry is not one that can be shared." Aragorn's voice was earnest as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He did not want Elrond to think that he had wanted to lie to him, or that he did not trust him. The thought of losing Elrond's trust was one that he could not bear.

Elrond studied the man across from him. As he began speaking, a change came over him. It was subtle, a quicksilver flash that Elrond was not sure he had even seen, but suddenly, it was not Eradan looking back at him, but a stranger. There was a wisdom, an age behind those eyes that did not belong to a ranger who had yet to see his fourth decade. As he searched deeper, however, he realized that Eradan did not have the ageless sense of one of the Istari, or even one of the elves. What he now sensed in this person was something altogether new.

After a few moments of scrutiny, Eradan raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Forgive me," Elrond said, breaking off his stare and relaxing further into his chair. "You said your burden could not be shared? Why then have you chosen to tell my son?"

A soft snort of laughter escaped Eradan, and he shook his head ruefully, sitting back in his chair. "I did not choose to tell Elrohir. Mithrandir is the only one in whom I have confided. He and I were speaking when he came to visit me after my injury, and I fear we were not very careful in our conversation. Elrohir overheard us, and shortly after, confronted me with his knowledge. While I have been grateful for his friendship and support, it was not my choice to tell him. It was revealed upon his arrival here a week ago that Mithrandir guided our conversation, having decided that I needed another confidante."

An amused smile curved Elrond's lips as Eradan related Mithrandir's manipulations. "I would believe that of the wizard. And it makes sense that Elrohir is the one he chose for your confidante. You could not find a truer and more loyal friend than him. I had at first thought the change in his behavior toward you a reaction to your injury and illness. I have noticed him deferring to your decisions, or following your lead, even over his brother. That he trusts you all the more since learning your secret is readily apparent."

"I would never want to come between your sons," Eradan frowned, the laughter fading as if it had never been. "I asked Elrohir to keep this secret from his brother, for I felt that the fewer who knew, the better. But I would not have this cause a rift between them. That is the last thing I want to occur." The thought that he could be a source of problems between the twins horrified him. "I would not choose to share my secret with any others, but you know your sons best. If you think I should tell Elladan also, I will certainly consider it."

"No," Elrond reassured him, raising a hand to halt the man's words. "Do not feel obligated to bring another into your confidence. My sons are well old enough to manage their own relationships. They have not always agreed on things, and they have never let their arguments come between them. I do not think Elrohir's friendship with you will be capable of sundering them."

"Thank you. I will trust your opinion in this. I want you to know, my lord, that I do trust you, whether or not I am free to confide my secret. There may come a time when it will be necessary to do so, but that time is not yet upon us." Eradan seemed as though he wanted to say something more, but stopped and took a deep breath, growing still as he watched the lord of Imladris.

Sensing that the conversation had come to an end, Elrond held Eradan's eyes as he spoke. "And I trust you, Eradan. Though I do not know the reason, you have had my trust since shortly after we met. I do not fear the secret you hold, because I trust those who have discovered your secret, and their trust in you is complete. I would be honored to learn your secret when the time is right, but I will not press you." He looked away from the man toward the window, judging the time of day by the angle of the light. "And now, I will take my leave of you. I have others I must see before the evening meal. Please excuse me." He stood to leave, and Eradan rose to his feet a trifle more slowly, bowing in respect to the elf lord. Elrond strode from the room, leaving the door open, and Eradan sank back into his chair, shaking his head, bemused. This day had not turned out at all as he had expected.

That night, Aragorn's sleep was restless, his dreams disturbed by the possible consequences, both good and bad, of his actions if he were to attempt to destroy the Ring now rather than wait for it to pass to Frodo. He tossed and turned as a place that filled his heart with dread took shape behind his closed eyelids.

Aragorn's breathing was shallow as he tried not to inhale the stench of Mordor, though it was a lost cause. He and Mithrandir had made it deep into the heart of Sauron's territory, though Orodruin was still some distance off. Their journey thus far had been remarkably uneventful. It had taken some convincing, but Bilbo had reluctantly handed over the Ring when Gandalf explained the importance of the quest to him. They had been able to slip past the Gap of Rohan and make their way to the stairs of Cirith Ungol without encountering either friend or foe, taking great care to pass almost invisibly through the land. Shelob would never bother another being, and even the Ring had remained quiescent for the entire journey. It was much easier than Aragorn had ever expected.

Yet as soon as the thought flickered through his mind, he heard the ringing call of a horn. He turned to find an orc leering down at them from an outcropping of rock near their position. They had been discovered! Aragorn straightened up and pulled his sword as orcs appeared seemingly out of nowhere, streaming toward him and Mithrandir in numbers too great to count.

Aragorn closed with the lead orc and dispatched him as quickly as he could, freeing up his sword for the next orc. There was no art to this battle, no subtle dance of the opponents, or graceful sweep of blades. Aragorn fought with an economy of motion, knowing he would get no second chances because if his first stroke did not kill, another orc would close upon him. He did not know how long the battle raged, but he had lost track of Gandalf's position some time ago.

A screeching brought his gaze shooting skyward and his heart dropped. Ulairi! Four ringwraiths circled above their heads on the winged fell beasts they rode. His momentary distraction proved fatal. A strangled cry escaped his lips as a sword penetrated his back. Looking down dumbly, he saw the blade protruding from his chest. Aragorn jerked as the sword was roughly pulled away, and he fell to the ground, his entire body numb. Struggling for breath, he could only distantly feel the blows as the orcs took out their anger on his prone form.

Consciousness was slipping away as the orcs drew back from him, allowing a black clad figure to approach. Though he could barely see, Aragorn recognized the mantle the wraith wore. This was the once king of Angmar, the one known as the Witch-king! A flash of despair swept through Aragorn as the wraith crouched down and roughly pulled the Ring from the chain around his neck. Darkness crept over Aragorn's vision. There was no point in fighting death now. Sauron had won. Darkness would soon cover all of Arda. And it was due solely to his arrogance.

"NO!" Aragorn sat up in bed, panting for breath. Glancing wildly around him, he fumbled through his bedding, searching for his sword before the reality of his situation dawned on his sleep-fogged mind. Flopping back onto his bed with a long, shuddering breath, Aragorn closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart. That had been all too real to his mind. Placing a hand on his chest, he sighed in relief at finding no injuries. After a long moment to calm himself, he rose from his bed and shuffled to his balcony, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Leaning against the railing and looking out over the peaceful valley, Aragorn realized that he could not take the chance of changing history by attempting to take the Ring to Mordor. There were too many things that could go wrong. His nightmare had only shown him one possibility. He could not risk losing the Ring to Sauron. The only option was to allow history to take its proper course. That was how it must be, and to ensure that, he would have to avoid any further temptation to meddle with history. When Mithrandir and Bilbo returned from their adventure, Eradan would not be in Imladris.

On the thirteenth night after the arrival of Gandalf and his company, Elrond gathered with Gandalf and Thorin in his office to examine the map they were following. During the meeting, he read the runes naming the swords that Gandalf and Thorin had found in the cave of the trolls as Glamdring, Foe-hammer, and Orcrist, Goblin-cleaver, and found the moon letters on the map that would aid the dwarves in their quest to enter Smaug's cave unseen. The household was busy preparing for the departure of their guests, replenishing their supplies and seeing to all their needs.

Eradan smiled as he stood in the doorway, watching Bilbo, Kili and Fili playing with the children. Lothrin had decided to host a going away tea party, and Ari had sweet-talked the cooks into providing a great deal of cakes and pastries for them, even enough to satisfy one hobbit and two hungry dwarves. When Ari looked up and waved Eradan in, he gladly entered the room and took a seat at the table, watching Lothrin play the gracious hostess. He was grateful for this night of peace and enjoyment before Bilbo, Gandalf and the dwarves left the next morning. From the stories he had heard, he knew that the travelers had a great deal of danger and hardship yet ahead of them. Fighting off a sense of melancholy as he watched the youngest of the dwarves, he forced the thought that this journey would claim their lives from his mind. Events were not set in stone. There was still a chance that they would survive, though he dared not utter a word of warning to any for fear of causing unpredictable changes to history.

At a knock on the door, Eradan looked up to see Gandalf standing in the entryway, his eyes twinkling as he gazed upon the children and their guests. "Eradan, may I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course, my friend." Eradan placed his hand over his heart and turned to Lothrin. "Forgive me, my flower, but I must speak with Gandalf. I will return as soon as I can."

A small frown crossed her face, then smoothed away as she looked back at Gandalf in the doorway. "Very well. You may leave," she said magnanimously, waving her hand dismissively in her best imitation of Lord Elrond before turning back to her other guests.

Hiding his smile, Eradan inclined his head, then rose from his seat to join the wizard. Without speaking, they strode down the hallway to an unoccupied sitting room. Closing the door and gesturing for Eradan to take a seat, Gandalf seated himself across from the man.

"Is all in readiness for your departure?" Eradan asked as he settled back into his chair.

"Most of the preparations are complete, yes." Clasping his hands together and resting them comfortably on his knee, Gandalf speared the man with his intent gaze. "I need to know if you have decided on a course of action in regards to the conversation we had several days ago?"

Taking a deep breath, Aragorn leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, steadily meeting the wizard's eyes. "Yes, I have. There are too many unknowns to contemplate if I decide to start interfering in the course of history. A nightmare or vision showed me one of the possible outcomes of my interference. It is one that I could not live with. You have my word that I will make no attempts to change events so drastically. My only interventions will be to ensure that history follows its proper course."

Releasing a long breath, Gandalf nodded abruptly. "Good. I am glad to hear it. From what little you have said, it is clear that events have proceeded to a desired outcome in your time. Who knows what might happen to that future if things are changed here and now?" He sat back in his chair as the tension left his frame.

"Those were my thoughts on the matter, yes," Aragorn answered softly. "The slightest change now could have disastrous effects on the future. My dream showed one version of how things could unfold, and I must ensure that things do not progress as they did in that dream. I will take no action now."

Gandalf clapped his hands together and stood, startling Aragorn. "Now that business has been discussed, would you care to join an old man in a smoke before I leave come the morn?"

With a bemused smile at Gandalf's mercurial moods, Aragorn nodded and stood. "It would please me to do this with an old friend. Yes, I will join you." They stood and made their way outside to a fairly secluded place in the garden and sat smoking and talking late into the night.

When morning came, Eradan stood with Gilraen and the children to see Gandalf and their new friends off. The dwarves were in good moods at the continuation of their journey, Bilbo kept gazing longingly back at the great hall where he had enjoyed so many feasts, and the children worked not to cry at the departure of their new playmates. Eradan clasped Gandalf's arm in a warrior's grip and wished him well. "Take care of yourself, my friend. Yours is not an easy journey." That was all the warning he could give, but the wizard understood.

"I will watch out for them, as best I can," he said softly, squeezing Eradan's arm in return. He turned away then, gesturing for the others to follow. "Come along then, the day is not getting any younger, and neither am I." He winked back at Eradan as he led the dwarves and Bilbo on the path out of Rivendell.

As the children insisted on staying until they could no longer see the departing company, Eradan remained with them. He could not help watching three members in particular, saying goodbye in his own mind, knowing that this was likely the last time he would see them alive. A hand rested lightly on his shoulder, and he turned slightly to see Elrohir standing beside him.

"Are you well?" The question was soft, likely not loud enough to be heard by the children, who were chattering away between themselves.

"Well enough." It was all the answer he could give. Elrohir would understand his reaction later, when news of the Battle of Five Armies reached Imladris, and with it, the news of those who had fallen. "Thank you," he added, meeting the eyes of his brother. Elrohir gave him a faintly puzzled look, but nodded, knowing he would gain no further insight at the moment. Once the last of the dwarves walked round a bend in the path, out of sight, the children turned to go back into the house, and Eradan followed, looking for a distraction from his thoughts.

Over the next couple of months, he often wondered how the quest was progressing, if Bilbo had found the ring, if anyone had been killed in the orc attack, or in being chased by wargs and orcs before the great eagles came to their rescue. But no news of the quest reached their ears, and Aragorn could do little but wonder about their fates. Though he worried over his friends, he did not sit idle in his waiting. As his leg healed and began to regain its strength, he went more and more often to the practice fields, once again picking up his sword. He found his initial clumsiness frustrating, but Elrohir and Elladan were quick to point out how well he was healing and to help him find a different way of accomplishing the same result that would better accommodate his injury. Under their expert tutelage, he quickly re-gained his ability to fight with his favored weapon. He often worked with Ari as well, to train the young boy in the skills he would need throughout his life.

All too soon, it was time for Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel and their guards to leave for the meeting of the White Council. As before, several members of the household gathered to say farewell to their departing lords. Eradan nodded to Elrond when the lord of the valley turned to face him.

"I trust you will do your best to keep my sons out of trouble in my absence?"

A smile graced Eradan's face and he nodded to the elf lord. "I will do my best, my lord." He turned serious, then. "I assure you that the valley will be safe in your absence, as will your people. It will all be as you left it when you return safely from your journey. Your sons will see to it."

Elrond held Eradan's eyes for a moment, looking for the deeper meaning behind the words. He apparently understood that Eradan was telling him something of the future, that he would return safely, and that he had no reason to worry over those he had left behind while he was traveling. A slow nod was enough to convey his thanks for the assurance.

Moving on to his sons, he gave them last minute instructions and said his farewells. Standing with Elrohir and Elladan, Eradan placed a hand on each of their shoulders as they watched the party mount their horses and ride out of the safety of the valley. "Fear not for your father, my friends. He will return safely, I have foreseen it."

"Thank you," Elrohir nodded in relief at Eradan, knowing that he was speaking as truly as he knew. Elladan inclined his head in thanks as well, but his eyes still held uncertainty, knowing as he did that foreknowledge could be a tricky thing and did not always show the truth, but sometimes only possibilities. None of them turned to go back inside until after the last horse and elf had passed out of sight.

Over the next few weeks, Imladris was quieter than usual, the inhabitants more subdued as they all keenly felt the absence of the lord of the valley. Even the children were less exuberant than usual, sensing the more somber atmosphere around them. Eradan worked to keep the twins' spirits up, to keep them from worrying, but they were often too busy to spend much time in his company. Elrohir, at least, sought him out when he had a few moments free from his responsibilities. Elladan, on the other hand, grew tenser as each day passed without word from their father. At long last, a messenger arrived from Lothlórien and was ushered immediately into Elrond's library, where the twins were working.

Eradan stared at the closed door, wishing in this moment that Elladan knew who he was so that he could be included as they read the missive. Though he knew that all returned safe and whole in his history, he was not so very sure that things would occur in the same way this time around. He waited impatiently for what seemed an age before the door opened and the messenger left the room, escorted by Elladan, who seemed much more relaxed than he had been.

Knowing that only Elrohir remained in the library, Eradan approached the room and knocked lightly on the doorframe. Elrohir looked up from the parchment on the desk and motioned for Eradan to enter. "Good, Eradan. I was on my way to find you. Please, come in and close the door."

Doing as asked, Eradan crossed the room, took a seat across from Elrohir and looked at him over the desk. "What news from Lothlórien? Is all well?"

Leveling a serious look on the man, Elrohir indicated the missive. "You knew what would come of this council meeting, did you not? My father and the others ventured into the southern reaches of Mirkwood to drive Sauron out of Dol Guldur." Elrohir seemed to be struggling to keep his voice calm.

Giving his brother a wary look, Aragorn nodded. "Yes, I knew this. That is why I insisted it was so important for Mithrandir to join the council meeting. The task would have been much more difficult without his help." He hesitated before continuing. "Why are you angry with me?"

"You did not warn me that my father would be riding against Sauron himself!" Elrohir exclaimed, rising from his chair and beginning to pace. "If I had known he would be in such danger, I would have insisted on joining him, as would Elladan, had he known this."

"I cannot tell you of future events and risk them being changed," Aragorn pointed out. "You know this. What has happened to upset you so? Is everyone well? Please tell me if something has changed. Is Adar hurt?" Aragorn's voice was now anxious and pleading.

Hearing the man refer to Elrond as his Adar brought Elrohir up short. "Adar is well enough," Elrohir assured him. Seeing Aragorn close his eyes and slump in relief reminded Elrohir that he was not the only one who might be worried about those who had ridden against such an evil foe. "He and the others had some minor injuries and will be remaining in Lothlórien until such time as they are fully healed. There were no elves lost, though that seems only by the grace of the Valar." Releasing his anger, Elrohir returned to his seat behind the desk and rested his elbows on the wood surface, gazing at Aragorn. "I understand your reasons for keeping your peace, but I was not pleased to learn of the danger my father faced, knowing that you knew it would come."

Sighing, Aragorn nodded, glancing away and swallowing before forcing himself to meet Elrohir's eyes again. "I apologize for keeping this from you, but I knew that you had remained behind before, and must do so again. Though, if something had changed and anyone had been seriously hurt or even killed, I do not know that I would have been able to forgive myself for not warning someone. I would not have expected your forgiveness in such a situation, either. However, since all is well, I would hope you could find it in your heart to forgive my silence?"

For a long moment, Elrohir did not answer, and Aragorn lowered his gaze to the floor, feeling that he had lost his brother's trust.

Seeing the dejected look on Aragorn's face, Elrohir rubbed his hands over his face quickly, as if trying to rub away the remaining anger. Trying to put himself in the other's place, he realized how worried he must have been this whole time, knowing what Elrond and the others would face, not knowing if events would change, and the guilt he would have suffered if Elrond or one of the others had been lost. "I forgive you," he said softly, forcing himself to mean the words as he said them. "I do not like the fact that you kept this knowledge from me, but I do understand your motives in doing so. I cannot truly fault you for doing what you felt was right."

Aragorn's head came up quickly at Elrohir's words, and he searched the elf's eyes, looking for the truth of his words. Exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes in relief. "Thank you," his words were whispered, but heartfelt.

"Would you like to read the message?" Elrohir offered the paper as a gesture of peace.

"Yes, please," Aragorn responded, taking the parchment from Elrohir and quickly perusing the contents. "Good, it seems that Mithrandir sustained no injuries and was able to return to the dwarves and Bilbo. They will need his help before the end of their quest. It eases my heart to know he will be there for them."

"Dare I ask you to explain to what you are referring?" Elrohir's tone was dry, and it was apparent he did not expect an answer. Doing some quick calculations in his head, Aragorn decided that even if Elrohir were to leave this very moment, he could not arrive in time to affect matters and decided to surprise him and offer an answer.

"I feel you do deserve that much, but I must ask a promise of you, that you do not tell anyone what I am about to reveal, and that you take no action. Events are already in motion and unfolding as they must." Aragorn placed the parchment back on the desk in front of Elrohir and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Elrohir's expression made it clear that he did not quite know how to respond. "Will I regret agreeing to your terms?" He leaned back in his chair and gazed at Aragorn warily.

"Perhaps," Aragorn allowed with a shrug. "But that is the price that must be paid for this knowledge. It is not an easy burden to bear, knowing what will happen, yet being unable to change anything. I will not so burden you if you believe it will be too difficult."

After a moment's thought, Elrohir nodded slowly. "I will agree to keep your secrets and abstain from action, no matter what you tell me." Placing a hand over his heart, he lowered his eyes, making it a vow with his actions.

"Very well," Aragorn said. He proceeded to tell Elrohir what the dwarves would encounter in Smaug's lair, and the full story of the events that would follow. He expounded on the destruction of Laketown, the battle with Smaug that ended in the dragon's death, and then the Battle of Five Armies. He had to pause a moment before adding the deaths of the dwarves that he knew about.

Elrohir could only stare at Aragorn in shock as the full tale was told. "And you expect me to do nothing to help? We should send a contingent of elves to aid Thranduil's people. We might yet prevent the deaths of many; elves, humans and dwarves alike!"

Aragorn shook his head sadly. "It is likely the battle has already commenced. The messenger left Lothlórien many days ago, and it would take a great many more to reach the mountains from here. Even if you were to leave now, it would be finished before you could arrive. The battle will be won by the cooperation of the woodland elves, the humans from Laketown, the dwarves, the Eagles, and Beorn. They will be the ones to destroy the orcs and bring a time of peace to these lands. I cannot say what changes would result if the elves of Imladris were to enter into battle. While the victory would be more easily assured, the scales of a delicate balance could be tipped." He looked down and took a deep breath. "Elrohir, the elves of Imladris were not there in my history. If you led a force to aid Mirkwood, some of them could be killed; elves who were not supposed to die. I do not know how that would affect the next decades. Do you not yet understand that I must change as little as possible?" His frustration was clear in his tone.

His voice lowered to a low hiss, and he leaned forward in his chair as he said what he had sworn not to mention. "I have seen Sauron defeated once and for all, Elrohir. The defeat at Dol Guldur is only temporary. Your father and Mithrandir would both tell you this. He cannot be killed so easily. But I have seen it done. That event, above all else, must repeat, or our world will fall into a darkness from which it may never recover. Everything I do is to ensure the freedom from his evil, though it will not come for decades yet. That is the true secret I hold, Elrohir. Now you know why I will not dare to change anything." Aragorn's breathing was harsh when he finished, the long-held secret taking a toll on him in the telling. He stared uncertainly at Elrohir, sure he had said too much.

For a long moment, Elrohir could only stare at Aragorn, his mind racing, but unable to form a single word. Finally, he pulled his thoughts together enough to speak. "You know how to finally defeat Sauron? Why do you not tell my father and Mithrandir? We could finish him now, while he is weakened from his recent defeat."

Aragorn slumped back into his chair. "I did consider it, but not all of the pieces are yet in place. Some of those who are destined to complete this task are not yet born. Ari will have a role to play, and he will not be ready for such a thing for many years. I have already wrestled with the idea of attempting this task myself, but I know that it will be accomplished successfully in the future, and I cannot take the chance of failure now. Failure could mean Sauron rising to full power again and becoming unstoppable. I cannot take that chance and will tell you no further details. The risk is too great, the penalty too severe. The decision has been made Elrohir. You cannot sway my mind, and you have given your word to remain silent." Aragorn's face was stern and Elrohir knew he was facing a man used to making decisions and abiding by them.

Elrohir stared at the man in dismay, then rose and walked over to the window, staring out blindly. "Now I know why you refused to say a word without first obtaining a promise for my silence." His voice was soft and held a bitter note. Bracing a hand against the window frame, he kept his back to Aragorn.

Sighing heavily, Aragorn stood from his chair and crossed the room to stand near Elrohir. "Forgive me, my brother. I should not have placed such a burden upon your shoulders. I know you too well. You will always want to help others, to save lives if possible. I feel the same, but I am able to see more of the picture, having experienced the next few decades once already. There will be deaths in that time, even of those for whom I care deeply." Gilraen, Halbarad, Boromir and so many others flashed through his mind, people he wished desperately that he could save. Feeling their loss anew, his voice was rough as he continued. "I have wrestled with this since my arrival here, but particularly so in the last few months, knowing that he would be weakened now. My mind has shown me the many ways that I could fail were I to try to defeat Sauron, and I cannot bear the possible consequences of such a failure. It was my own selfish desire to have someone in whom I could confide all my fears and hopes that led me to tell you these things. I only hope you can forgive me for this." Turning, he made his way to the door. "Please know that whatever I do, it is for the good of our entire world, not simply to fulfill my own desires." With that, he opened the door and left the room, not allowing time for Elrohir to respond.

By the time Elrohir turned around, the room was empty. Knowing he needed time alone to think, he strode out of the library and sought out a quiet corner of the garden where he would not be disturbed. Everything he had heard swirled around his mind, not only the words, but the anguish in Aragorn's voice at the thought of losing those he loved, at the uncertainty in the man's voice as he discussed the possible changes that could result to history. What must it be like for him, to know the secret to defeating the most powerful evil to walk Arda in ages, but not be able to do anything to affect that defeat for decades yet?

After a few hours of solitude and thought, Elrohir came to the conclusion that he needed to speak with Aragorn again. Once he was back in the house, however, he found that the man had disappeared. None in the house seemed to know where he was, and Elrohir eventually gave up, thinking to catch the man the next morning. When Eradan did not show up for breakfast, however, Elrohir became concerned. After an exhaustive search of the house, he found a member of the household that had seen the Dúnadan ride off early in the morning with a pack on his back. The sudden fear crept over Elrohir that the man had left the valley to meet up with the rangers, that he would not stay in Imladris any longer after their encounter the day before.

Elrohir left a message for Elladan saying that he was going for a ride, and quickly readied his horse to follow Eradan's trail. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to easily follow it. With Aragorn's skill, if he had not wanted to be found, the trail would have been much more difficult to follow. The leaves had fallen from the trees, covering the path, and it would have been quite easy for the man to obscure his tracks. It was less than an hour before he came across a horse grazing quietly along the bank of a small stream. Knowing the man would not be far away, Elrohir dismounted and strolled up the path along the stream. When he rounded a bend, he saw the man sitting on a blanket, staring down into the water.

"Aragorn?" Elrohir asked, walking over to the edge of the blanket. The man did not respond, wrapping his wool cloak more tightly around his shoulders as tension filled his frame. "May I join you?" Elrohir asked tentatively, moving to stand in front of Aragorn so that he could see the ranger's face.

Turning a drawn face up toward the elf, Aragorn nodded, gesturing toward his blanket. "Yes, of course. Please sit."

Studying the man as he sat, Elrohir decided to be blunt. "You do not look well."

A slight shrug was Eradan's response. It was a moment before he spoke, "I did not sleep well last night. And I fear it has been too long since I was on horseback." As he shifted to draw his cloak over his legs, a faint grimace twisted his features.

"Your leg pains you again?" Elrohir asked in concern. "I had thought you were no longer in pain, that your leg was merely stiff on occasion." He leaned forward as if to check the injured leg, but Aragorn shook his head.

"It has not hurt much of late, but the ride irritated it more than even sparring with my sword. I am sure that once I start riding again, the muscles will become accustomed to it once more. In the meantime, however, I am rather uncomfortable." Rubbing a hand over his sore leg, he gazed at Elrohir. "You did not follow me to check on my leg. May I ask why you are here?"

"I felt we had much to discuss after yesterday's talk, but could not find you when I looked. Gilvagor saw you leave on horseback with a pack, and I was afraid you had decided to leave Imladris. I followed you to discover why you left." Elrohir was unsure what to say, now that he had found him, so he simply explained why he had followed him, not why they needed to talk.

"What did you wish to discuss?" Aragorn asked tiredly, keeping his gaze focused on the elf's face.

"I fear I owe you an apology," Elrohir started slowly. "It cannot have been easy to keep this knowledge to yourself for the eight years you have lived among us. I know you well enough to know that you do not lightly allow others to die when your knowledge could save them. Only for a greater cause would you stand aside, and I can think of no greater cause than the freedom of our entire world. I find great comfort in the thought that in a matter of only a few decades, Sauron's utter defeat will be realized. Though I would wish to spare lives wherever possible, I know well enough to realize that any changes now could affect events so that he prevails. I agree with you; we cannot allow that to come to pass, no matter the cost." The words were difficult for Elrohir to say, as he hated the thought that any lives would be sacrificed in the coming years, but he knew he had to say them.

Taking in a deep breath, Aragorn closed his eyes and slowly released the breath before opening them and looking back at Elrohir. "I am relieved to hear you say that, though no apology is necessary. I feared that I had driven a wedge between us that could not be overcome. It was a mistake to tell you as much as I did, but I wanted so badly to share this with someone. You are the only one in whom I have confided so much. I know what a burden I have placed on your shoulders, and I am sorry for that. I should not have given into the temptation."

Holding up a hand to halt the ranger's words, Elrohir shook his head. "Stop, Aragorn. You warned me that the knowledge would create a difficult burden. You gave me the choice to remain ignorant. I may not have known what you would say, but I am capable of accepting the consequences of my decisions. I swore to keep silent, and I will hold to that. I do not say it will be easy for me, but I know well that it has not been easy for you, either. I have seen a battle raging behind your eyes so many times as you struggle to decide whether you can influence events to happen differently or if you must remain in the shadows and allow them to happen as they will. I only hope that I have been accepted into your confidence enough that you will feel comfortable seeking me out in the future when you need someone to speak with. Adar taught us that a burden shared is a burden lightened. Will you allow me to share your burdens?" His voice was tentative as he finished, not sure what the man's reaction would be. With Elrohir's reaction to the knowledge Aragorn had shared last time, Elrohir would not blame the man if he chose not to confide anything else.

For a long moment, Aragorn stared at his brother, and Elrohir wondered what thoughts were passing through his mind.

Finally, Aragorn blinked and inclined his head toward Elrohir. "I do not know how much else I can say. There are things of which I cannot speak, but when I am able, and need someone with which to confer, yes, I will seek you out, Elrohir. I have always trusted your council in the past, and I will welcome it in times to come."

"Thank you," Elrohir said gratefully, clapping a hand on the man's shoulder in relief. He settled more comfortably back on the blanket and began rummaging through the bag sitting open near Aragorn. "Did you bring anything to eat? I noticed you missed the morning meal."

Waving his hand toward the bag, Aragorn replied with a wry grin. "Help yourself. Did you also miss the morning meal, that you are hungry so soon?"

Elrohir dug an apple out of the bag and bit into it before taking a slice of bread and slathering a layer of preserves on it, handing it to Aragorn. "I had no appetite this morning. Now eat. It does not appear that you have touched any of your food, and you seem to be in need of nourishment."

A smile crossed Aragorn's face at the familiarity of having Elrohir worry about how well he was taking care of himself. "If you insist, then who am I to refuse?" Taking the bread being offered, he reached in and took out a waterskin to accompany the food. "Here, I liberated some wine from the cellar for my repast. I would be glad to share it with you."

Elrohir accepted the offer with a grin. "Does Elladan know that you paid a visit to the cellar? I believe that while Erestor is away, it has fallen to him to maintain an accounting of the household stores." As he spoke, he reached into the bag and took out another apple, handing it to Aragorn. "Eat this." He paused a moment as Aragorn bit into the fruit before asking hesitantly. "May I ask you a question?"

Stilling his movement, Aragorn gazed at him contemplatively. Elrohir would not sound so hesitant for most questions. This must have to do with their recent disagreement, or with questions of the future that Elrohir did not think Aragorn would answer. "You may ask," he finally said. "I will decide only after I hear the question if I choose to answer it."

"Fair enough," Elrohir responded with a nod, gesturing for Aragorn to resume eating as he decided how to phrase his question. "While I realize that you cannot tell me all, I would know about life after Sauron. I wish to know the world for which these sacrifices must be made." Aragorn nodded encouragingly, waiting for a specific question, and deciding what he could say that would not pose a risk to that future. "From the few things you have said on this matter, I surmised that you were crowned king. Can you tell me if that is correct, at the least?"

An indrawn breath as Aragorn gazed off into the distance was the only sign that he was considering his response. "You were not wrong," he finally said carefully. "A time of peace reigns in our land. We have forged treaties with former foes, and renewed old alliances. We have had enough of war, and are doing all in our power to ensure that our children live in a world of peace. It has been difficult, re-building after the war, for there was much damage in those final weeks of battle, many deaths and devastated lands. Many of the crops for that year were lost, and the winter was harsh, but we survived, and in the intervening years, have managed to replace our stores and become a prosperous, peaceful land." Aragorn was careful to keep his words general, to avoid giving any specific information.

A gentle smile was affixed to Elrohir's face as he listened to Aragorn's words. "Then that is a future worth fighting for. I will do all in my power to help you bring it about."

Aragorn reached over and placed his hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "Thank you, my brother. You cannot know how much your support means to me. I do not know how long I will be here, or if I will ever see my home again, but I do not feel so alone now, knowing you will be by my side."

Elrohir rested his hand on Aragorn's. "I would not leave you without an ally, a brother to lean upon." He noticed that the man's fingers were quite cold, and only then realized that there was a chill in the air. Reaching over, he pulled the cloak more tightly about Aragorn's shoulders. "Why did you not say you were cold?"

A chuckle escaped Aragorn's lips. "I have been a ranger for a great many years, Elrohir. This is hardly cold enough to bother one used to living outside many months of the year." A wry grin twisted his lips. "Though I have to say that it is likely the cold is making my leg ache more than it might otherwise. Perhaps it is time to return home."

Nodding, Elrohir helped Aragorn gather up the blanket and pack, then pulled the man easily to his feet. Staggering slightly before he regained his balance, Aragorn grabbed Elrohir's arm. "Are you able to walk to where we left the horses?" Elrohir asked in concern.

"The walk will help loosen the muscles." Aragorn avoided answering the question directly, and began walking stiffly down the path. Noting how much more pronounced the limp was, Elrohir followed closely in case he needed assistance. Though the man had no difficulty reaching the horses, Elrohir did have to help Aragorn mount his steed for the return trip.

Once home and back in the warmth, with an ointment to warm and soothe the aching muscles, the pain and stiffness in Aragorn's leg melted away. Aragorn was only concerned that even after his leg had healed completely, he would always have issues with the cold, and certain movements. He had known other rangers who had sustained injuries of similar severity who had been susceptible to the cold, or certain weather conditions, and had to deal with pain for the rest of their lives. He swore to work with the healers and do whatever was necessary to see his leg healed completely.

Over the next month, he and Elrohir spent a great deal of time on the sparring field, or on horseback, trying to retrain his leg to assist the healing process. By the time Elrond and the rest of his patrol returned to the valley, Eradan was walking with only a slight limp. Arathorn returned in mid-December to spend the winter months in Imladris, and was pleased to see how well Eradan had healed. When he left again in early spring, Eradan was back at his side. Since it kept him away from Imladris for the return of Gandalf and Bilbo, Aragorn would not have had it any other way.

Beta: Radbooks, Chris, and NiRi

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

A/N: At the urging of some of my readers, this chapter was split in two, so each is less than 20 pages. The second part of the chapter will be coming soon as chapter 15.

Chapter 14

It did not take long for things to settle back down to normal in Imladris after the return of Celebrían, Elladan, Elrohir and their party. Though Elrond watched the twins worriedly for some time, he never again broached the topic of their visions. The glimpse that he had been shown, and the pain it obviously brought his sons had rattled him tremendously. Having sworn not to do anything to cause them such pain in the future, he refused to ask them any more about what they had seen and how it had affected them. Elladan and Elrohir made every effort to relax back into their roles in Imladris and suppress all signs of the pain they had endured at the loss of Celebrían in their history. As the weeks passed, Elrond eased up on his careful scrutiny of their every move, and life resumed as it always had.

Elladan and Elrohir resumed training with the other members of the Imladris patrols, and many in the valley remarked upon the drastic improvement in their skills. The twins had always been talented with a blade, but now their prowess was nearly unmatched. Most of the others attributed it to their recent trip to Lothlórien, and training with the Lord of that realm and his warriors. Elrond visited the training fields often to watch his sons. The expression in his eyes as he watched their battles was a curious mix of admiration and deep concern. He always had a word of encouragement or praise for his sons when they left the field to join him, however. Glorfindel, on the other hand, spent a great deal of time working with them both. He pushed them hard, wanting to know the full extent of their skills, and finding that he could now teach them moves that he had previously considered above them.

Elladan grunted as he hit the ground, his sword flying from his grip as he landed flat on his back. He looked up the length of the blade held to his neck to see a fierce look upon Glorfindel's face. Sighing softly, he held his hands open at his sides. "I yield, Glorfindel. You have won, yet again."

Lowering his sword to his side, Glorfindel gazed down at the elf lying prone at his feet. "You did not maintain the proper balance. Your right foot was out of place. Without the correct placement of your feet, this move will get you killed very quickly. You must maintain your concentration."

"We have been at this for hours now," Elladan complained, sitting up slowly. "And having spent most of that time on the ground, I find myself unable to make another attempt today. Tomorrow will be soon enough to try it again." Taking the hand offered by Elrohir, he allowed his brother to pull him to his feet. Brushing the grass from his clothing, he reached down to retrieve his sword and then looked back to Glorfindel.

His captain did not look pleased with his words. "If you do not practice this move until it becomes second nature, it will never work in battle." A stern glare leveled at the twins drove home how unimpressed he had been with their efforts thus far.

Rolling his aching shoulders, Elladan hung his head for a moment to loosen his muscles before raising his head again to meet Glorfindel's eyes. "This is punishment, is it not? You are retaliating against us for your defeat in our earlier sparring match." His eyes gleamed with humor as he spoke, but he reached up absently to rub at a bruise on his shoulder.

Chuckling, Glorfindel relaxed his posture. "Perhaps I have been pushing you harder than ever before, but now I know you are capable of learning more of what I have to teach." He gestured toward the house. "You are correct, however. Tomorrow is soon enough to continue with this." His eyes took in their disheveled state. "You will have to get cleaned up before your mother will let you sit at the dinner table."

"And whose fault is that?" Elrohir asked, looking down at the grass stains on his clothing. "You made sure we spent most of this training session on the ground."

"But only to better your skills," Glorfindel assured them. With a nod, he sheathed his sword, a gesture repeated by the twins indicating that they were done for the day. Clapping them both on a shoulder, hiding a smile at the winces that crossed the identical faces, Glorfindel turned them to face the path back to the house. "I expect that tomorrow, you will perform it correctly, and thus will not spend as much time on the ground."

A soft groan escaped Elladan. "In that case, I will need to use one of Adar's liniments tonight, else I will not be able to move come the morn."

"It would be a good idea," Glorfindel agreed. "For I will not be any easier on you on the morrow than I was today." Seeing the looks of exhaustion on their faces, he relented and changed the subject. "So, what can you tell me of our upcoming journey?"

Blank looks were their only response. "What journey?" Elrohir asked in confusion.

One of Glorfindel's golden brows climbed toward his forehead in surprise. "The journey to Mirkwood for Princess Minuial's coming-of-age ceremony." He looked back and forth between them, but no sign of recognition crossed their faces. "The invitation came this morning," he prompted them.

Shaking his head, Elladan responded, "We have not seen Adar since the morning meal, Glorfindel. We were not in the house much at all today. No one has mentioned an upcoming journey to us."

Holding out a hand to halt their progress toward the house, Glorfindel glanced around to be sure they were alone. "What about in your history? Did anything happen of which I should be aware?"

"We took no such journey in our history," Elrohir explained. "If you will remember, in our history, Naneth sailed the year after her attack. If the invitation arrived at this point, less than a year after that attack, Adar would have sent our regrets. We were too busy trying to help Naneth heal to consider journeying anywhere." A sigh escaped him. "And at the time, Elladan and I had started down a path that we should never have trod. Adar would never have asked that we travel in any sort of diplomatic capacity. I fear we never knew about any coming-of-age ceremony."

The matter-of-fact tone of Elrohir's voice struck Glorfindel as odd. In all of their previous conversations about Celebrían's attack and departure, there had been a note of suppressed anger and grief in the voices of both Elladan and Elrohir. That absence of emotion caused Glorfindel to look oddly at Elrohir as he wondered how to ask the question without causing a resurgence of their darker emotions.

Catching the question on Glorfindel's face, Elrohir shook his head. "It helps that we know Naneth is awaiting us now in the house just up that path. It was a struggle at first, but we finally have come to believe that she is well, that we truly did avert disaster. That is not to say that we will ever let her leave this valley without us as her escort again, but the memories no longer torment us as they did."

"As long as we do not dwell on them, at least," Elladan said. "We have finally begun to regain our balance here. In our own time, it has been five centuries since Naneth sailed. While we spent much of that time wallowing in our rage and grief, we found new reasons for happiness, for joy and laughter. Arriving here has been a difficult thing for us, re-awakening those slumbering emotions, but we have regained control of ourselves. We can discuss our past without giving in to those emotions." He glanced aside at Elrohir. "And as my brother said, it helps knowing that Naneth is safe and that we have a second chance to live our lives as we would have if she had not been taken. We plan to take full advantage of that chance."

"So we are making a journey to Mirkwood?" Elrohir asked with an amused smirk on his face, his mind apparently back on Glorfindel's news. "It will be good to see Legolas again."

"I do not think his brother will be so happy to see us," Elladan pointed out. "Silaglar has no sense of humor at all. His serious nature may aid him in helping his father to rule the realm, but it does not make him the most pleasant person to be around."

Elrohir brought a hand to his chin and tilted his head to the side. "To be fair, he may not be so… rigid with others. He seems to reserve his disdain for the two of us."

"Might that have to do with the fact that he ended up in a muddy pond, fully clothed, upon one of your visits to his realm?" Glorfindel asked, crossing his arms and looking back and forth between the brothers with a knowing smile upon his face.

"Surely he would not carry a grudge against us for so many centuries for such a little thing?" Elladan asked, with a raised eyebrow. "I still claim that he is simply humorless."

A snicker escaped Elrohir as he shook his head. "Perhaps it would have seemed a little thing to him, but for the fact that it happened in front of the very pretty elleth he was courting."

Waving a hand dismissively, Elladan countered, "She married him, did she not? We obviously did not put too much of a damper on their courtship."

"Faellas is a very forgiving woman," Elrohir commented. "Unlike her husband, she did not hold the incident against us. I believe she actually found it quite humorous. At least, I was sure at the time that she was trying very hard not to laugh."

"And that is likely the reason that Silaglar is not overly fond of the two of you," Glorfindel responded with a smirk.

Elladan rolled his eyes before replying, sweeping a hand out to the side. "It is not as if we were attempting to dunk him. Is it our fault he fell into the trap we had set for Legolas? He really should not hold such a thing against us when we had no intention of doing anything to him."

Glorfindel could no longer hold in his laughter at the turn of the conversation and the memories it recalled. "I have always been amused at how quickly Legolas took to joining in on your games."

"Joining in?" Elrohir asked in disbelief. "Do you not recall that shortly after our first meeting, it was Legolas who gave us incorrect directions and nearly had us blundering into one of the women's bathing chambers? If it had not been for the fact that we ran into the queen as we were about to open the door, there might have been quite an uproar. We were able to convince her that we were merely lost, but anything we did to Legolas after that was simply in retaliation."

"Yes, it appears that your reputation preceded you," Glorfindel said. "But he seemed quite ready to play on your level. Who had the last laugh, do you remember?"

"We did," Elladan said confidently. "At our last meeting, we managed to convince him that the nobility of Dol Amroth…" Elladan's voice trailed off as he realized that the time he was remembering had taken place on a hunting trip near Minas Tirith with Aragorn.

"That took place in our time," Elrohir pointed out, making the same connection that Elladan had. "I believe we had Estel's help in that one."

"Where did we leave off in this time?" Elladan mused. "I fear my memories are rather muddled when I think back over the years."

Glorfindel looked back and forth between the brothers, amused that their hijinks with Legolas would apparently continue for another five hundred years. But then, they had continued through all the years of their friendship with Legolas thus far, almost two thousand years worth, so why would it not continue in the future?

Elrohir looked off in the distance for a moment as he thought. "When was the last time we saw him? Oh, I remember," he said, focusing on the others again. "He was here to deliver a message to Ada from his adar. I believe it is our turn now." A mischievous glint crept into his eyes. "We will have to come up with some way to thank him for the foul-smelling paste that made its way into our soap during his last visit."

Glorfindel shook his head and tried not to laugh, as it would only encourage them. "This sounds like it could be an interesting visit to Thranduil's realm. Please do try not to cause too much chaos, will you? I do not believe your father would appreciate you instigating a diplomatic uproar, as you phrased it earlier." He sighed and looked up at the sky. "If we do not head back to the house, we will be late for the meal. Shall we?" He gestured back up the path to the house.

The twins nodded and resumed walking back to the house, discussing what they might do to Legolas. As they approached, they saw Celebrían working in the garden in what little remained of the daylight. Elrohir placed his finger to his lips, signaling his brother to silence. Creeping up quietly behind her, Elrohir pounced, wrapping his arms around his mother's shoulders.

Straightening up abruptly, Celebrían laughed and turned around to face her attacker. "Elrohir!" she exclaimed. Lightly swatting his arm, she extricated herself from his embrace. "May I ask why you were trying to scare me?"

"You were there?" Elrohir asked teasingly. He shied away as Celebrían laughingly swiped at his arm again. "I hear we are going to visit Legolas?"

Crossing her arms and gazing at her son, Celebrían smiled broadly. "So that is the reason for your high spirits?"

Elrohir shrugged, his voice slightly defensive when he answered. "Must there be a reason? Can I not simply be happy? And besides," he added, almost as an afterthought, "it has been some time since last we saw Legolas. I do look forward to spending time with him once again."

Placing her hand on Elrohir's arm in a gesture of apology, Celebrían smiled. "I meant no offense, my son. It pleases me to see you so cheerful." Looking at the grass stains covering Elladan and Elrohir's clothing, then glancing down to see the dirt on her own clothing that came from working in the garden, she gave them a rueful grin. "It appears we shall all have to clean up and change clothing before dinner this evening."

A large grin crossed Elrohir's face. "Why should that be necessary? We could always eat in the garden, and then it will not matter if there is grass and dirt on our clothing."

"A picnic?" Elladan asked with an amused expression on his face. "It is getting dark, in case you missed that, brother mine." A gesture toward the sky emphasized the fact that the sun had sunk below the horizon.

"And why should that matter?" Elrohir asked, gesturing around them. "It will be a beautiful evening. The night is mild and warm and the sky clear. Why should we not have a picnic by starlight?"

Celebrían clapped her hands together, caught in the contagious mood of her younger son. "Indeed. Why not?" She turned to Glorfindel. "You have been quiet. Would you care to join us in our starlit picnic?"

With a slight bow of his head, Glorfindel replied with a gentle smile, "I would be delighted to join you this eve, my Lady. Please, remain here with your sons while I see to the arrangements."

"I did not intend to put you to work," Celebrían protested, a small frown crossing her face.

A negligent wave of the hand brushed aside her concerns. "It would be my pleasure to do this for you," Glorfindel responded. "Besides, I wish to put my sword away, and I assume that even your sons do not feel the need to be armed for a simple picnic. I will put the blades away and speak to the cooks, as well as your husband and daughter. I am sure they will also enjoy the idea of eating out of doors tonight." After sketching a bow toward her, he reached for the swords of the twins, which they easily relinquished to his care. He turned away to enter the house as the three behind him settled down onto a nearby bench to speak in soft tones about the events of their day.

After speaking to Elrond and Arwen to inform them of the change in plans, Glorfindel conferred with the cooks and returned to the garden. He stopped in the shadows of the house to watch Elrond and his family. It was a great relief to see Elladan and Elrohir laughing and smiling as they spoke with their parents and Arwen. They were relaxed, and there was no sign of the tension that had been evident in them since their arrival in this time. Even Elrond seemed more at ease, no longer watching his sons' every move with concern. Finally, they were acting like the family Glorfindel had always known, and he smiled to see that things were back to normal. Moving out of the shadows, Glorfindel stepped forward to join the family he claimed as his own, greeting them as they welcomed him.

-------------------------------

A month after their impromptu picnic, they all left the safety of the hidden valley behind to journey to Mirkwood to celebrate the coming of age of Thranduil's youngest child. Glorfindel made sure they had a large contingent of elves, as he would take no chances with the safety of Celebrían and Arwen. He noticed that the twins were ever alert on the journey as well, doing their best to ensure that no dangers neared their loved ones. They spoke little during their travels, watching the scenery around them, listening for the faintest hint of trouble. Glorfindel saw Elrond watching his sons quite often, a gleam of worry in his eyes as he beheld their serious demeanors.

They were over halfway to their destination before they ran into the first sign of trouble. A whistle from the advance scouts signaled orcs ahead, causing all the elves to draw their weapons and circle to protect Arwen and Celebrían. Fierce expressions on their faces, Elladan and Elrohir took positions on either side of their mother and sister, ensuring that any orc trying to get to the women would have to face them first. Holding their positions, they waited tensely. When the orcs burst into view on the path in front of them, the first ranks were felled immediately by a hail of arrows. The fight that followed was short and brutal. Only a handful of the enemy made it past the elven archers, and those were quickly cut down with swords.

A lone orc appeared to be moving toward Celebrían and Arwen, and Elladan urged his horse forward to intercept it. With a vicious stroke of the sword, he removed the orc's head from his body. Barely giving it a second glance, Elladan brought his blade up and scanned the area for any other threats to his family. Elrohir mirrored him on the other side of their mother and sister. It quickly became apparent that none of the creatures remained alive.

Glorfindel split the contingent of elves into two parties. He, Elrond and the twins would backtrack to take Celebrían and Arwen to a more defensible position down the path toward Imladris with half of the warriors. The rest of the elves would scout the immediate surroundings to ensure that the small band of orcs they had just encountered did not have any more companions in the area. Only after confirming that there were no further enemies nearby would they come back and clean up the scene of the short battle.

The golden warrior noticed Elrond observing Elladan and Elrohir as they waited for word that the path was clear. Like his sons, most of his attention was focused outward, searching for any threat. His entire family was here with him, and it was clear that he would allow no harm to come to any of them. His occasional glance at the twins found rigid postures and grim features. The forbidding, frozen look in their eyes apparently kept him from speaking a word as they stood on alert. Finally, after what seemed hours, but could surely not have been so long, a rider approached. Glorfindel moved up beside Elrond as the messenger halted in front of them.

Bowing his head, he made his report. "My lords, there is no further sign of any orc activity in the vicinity. The path is clear to proceed, and the enemies slain in our battle are being disposed of as we speak."

"Thank you, Carandol," Glorfindel said. He turned to face Elrond as he continued. "It would be safer if we left this immediate area while the warriors attend to the scene of the battle. We will double the patrols around our camp tonight to be sure none approach us unawares." Elrond nodded and Glorfindel ordered those gathered around to continue on their way. Glorfindel directed them to detour around the pyre of orcs to spare the women from the sight and smell. He pushed them to ride further than they had planned, trying to put the site of the battle as far behind them as they could. The rest of the warriors who had remained behind until the fire burned out would catch up during the night.

When they set up camp that night, Glorfindel made sure that Celebrían, Elrond and Arwen were kept in the center, in the most protected positions, despite Elrond's protestations that he did not need such consideration. He also positioned the twins closer to their family, more to reassure the brothers that their loved ones were safe than for concerns over Elladan and Elrohir's safety. A double guard was set, but Glorfindel knew that few of their party would actually get sleep this night, as they were all on edge and aware of every nuance of their surroundings. Of the twins, it was Elrohir, oddly enough, who concerned Glorfindel. Elladan was remaining close to his mother and sister and seemed alert and stern, but settled within himself. Elrohir had withdrawn from the others and remained silent, refusing to join in any of the conversations around the camp, even with his family. Apparently not wishing to subject himself to the concerned glances of his family and his captain, Elrohir finally stood from where he was sitting against a tree and headed off into the woods without a word of explanation. Elladan started to rise, but Glorfindel caught his eye and gave a slight shake of his head, gesturing for Elladan to reclaim his seat. With an inward sigh, Glorfindel strode off after the wayward twin.

It was not hard for Glorfindel to find him. Elrohir had not gone far, taking refuge in the branches of a nearby tree. Looking at the distant, closed expression on his face, Glorfindel sighed. This would not be easy. He swung effortlessly into the branches and made his way upward until he was roughly even with Elrohir, settling himself against the trunk of the tree and glancing over at the other's face. When there was no reaction from Elrohir, he knew it was up to him to begin the conversation.

"You should not have left the camp without company," he pointed out mildly. "It is not safe for any of us to be wandering alone in these woods, especially considering the events earlier today." His comment did not garner the expected protest that the younger elf did not need a keeper and could well take care of himself. His voice sharpened as he spoke next. "Look at me, Elrohir."

Trained from a very young age to heed the note of command in his captain's voice, Elrohir reluctantly turned his head to meet Glorfindel's piercing gaze. He still did not speak, but Glorfindel considered it a small victory that the ellon was no longer ignoring him. Looking past the stony visage, Glorfindel saw the anguished look in Elrohir's eyes. Though he was sure he knew what had put that look there, Glorfindel needed to get Elrohir talking to him, and knew of only one way to do it. "Tell me what you are thinking." His voice was firm, brooking no argument. When it looked as if Elrohir were going to remain silent, Glorfindel narrowed his eyes. "Very well. You will remain in the center of our contingent, along with your parents and Arwen. Your duties as guard will be suspended for the remainder of our journey."

'There it is,' Glorfindel thought with satisfaction as he saw a fire kindled in Elrohir's eyes.

"There is no cause for such an action," Elrohir protested hotly. "I am well able to fight and protect my family. You know the level of my skills."

"I am not disputing your skills," Glorfindel retorted, "merely your current demeanor. Your family is concerned about you, and I am concerned about your attentiveness. I will not place you in a position of responsibility if I do not know I can trust your ability to recognize and react to danger. You have been silent and sullen the entire day, and you will explain your actions to my satisfaction, or you will remain in a protected position." He leveled a steady gaze on the other and waited for a response.

Elrohir glared at Glorfindel in silence for several minutes before replying reluctantly. "It almost happened all over again, Glorfindel. They came after Naneth, and this time, Arwen as well. I would not survive losing her a second time, especially not if we were to lose Arwen also. I would not wish to survive such a loss." Each word sounded as if dragged from his soul, words that he did not want exposed to the light of day.

"They are both well," Glorfindel pointed out. "The orcs were never close enough to harm them. Our encounter today could barely even be called a skirmish. There were few enough of the enemy that we sustained no injuries among our own."

Elrohir nodded his head in acknowledgment of the other's words. "And I am grateful for that." He struggled to find the words to explain his current unease. "After we saved Naneth, I thought we could relax. It did not happen, so she was safe. I have begun to settle down into this new life with our family intact, as has Elladan. It never occurred to me that it could still happen, in a different time, in a different place, it could still happen!" His voice shook as it rose, his composure slipping. Visibly reigning in his rampaging emotions, he looked down at his hands, breaking his gaze with Glorfindel.

Reaching out to lay a hand on Elrohir's shoulder, Glorfindel leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. "She is safe, Elrohir, they both are. You cannot live your life in fear of losing those you love, or you will lose them to your fear. Rather than being with those you love and celebrating the fact that you are all alive and well, you are sitting here in a tree. What does that tell you?"

Elrohir shook off Glorfindel's hand with an angry motion. "I cannot control my emotions so easily, Glorfindel. It is not as simple as telling myself not to fear for my family. I left the camp so that they would not have to worry about me. That is the last thing I want. I could not stand the weight of their concern any longer."

Glorfindel's eyebrows rose in surprise as he settled back onto his branch. "And you do not think they worried when you stalked out of the camp? I thought you braver than that, Elrohir. Running from your family does you and them an injustice. Why do you not allow them to help you through your fear?"

"I would not subject my mother or sister to the memories and fear I hold inside," Elrohir said with a dismissive gesture. "It was difficult enough to convince Adar to allow us to keep our secrets. If I talk to him about this, it will open doors to a subject I dare not broach with him. None of them will understand why I am affected so strongly by the, as you say, minor incident today." Elrohir slouched back against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his chest as he settled in. A soft sigh escaped him. "I do not wish to worry anyone, Glorfindel, I simply do not know how to handle this feeling. It is like the rush of the tide, threatening to pull me underneath the waves."

Closing his eyes at the forlorn note in Elrohir's voice, Glorfindel shook his head before once again looking over at Elrohir. "Why do you not discuss this with your brother? He would surely understand how you feel and be able to help you through it."

A shudder swept through Elrohir and he clutched more tightly at his arms. "I cannot." He glanced aside at the elder elf. "You must understand this. When our mother sailed, I was nearly lost in my grief. It was Elladan who was wild with rage. It was his idea to begin hunting orcs in an attempt to destroy every one of them and keep the rest of our loved ones safe. He had no difficulty convincing me of the rightness of this course of action, and we very quickly became lost in the battle lust, feeling that we had to avenge Naneth. It was a very long time before we were able to pull ourselves back from the brink. If Elladan is not struggling with his memories because of today, I will not reawaken them. I do not blame him for the centuries we spent reveling in the blood of our enemies, for I was as much at fault as he. I came to enjoy the kill every bit as much as he did. But if not for his suggestion, I do not believe I would have followed such a course. No, we are all better off if I am left to overcome this dread on my own."

Glorfindel snorted at that. "Do you truly think his memories lie dormant now? If you are struggling with this, I am sure he is as well. He seemed quite grim when he placed himself between your mother and the orcs. If he has discovered a way to find peace with the past and move on, will you deny him the chance to help you? I have seen the concern in his eyes this night. He will do whatever he can to aid you, you have only to ask."

Elrohir nodded reluctantly. He had felt Elladan's gaze on him as well as those of his parents and Arwen. If anyone were to understand what he was feeling, it would be Elladan. "You are correct," he sighed. "Very well, I will speak with my brother."

"Good," Glorfindel said, standing to his feet on the branch and holding a hand out to Elrohir. "You must learn to live in the time you have, Elrohir. Despite your unique circumstances, you can only live as the rest of us. Enjoy the time you have with your family, cherish each day as the gift it is, and do not borrow trouble from either the past or the future. This is the world you live in. Try living in it for once."

Elrohir's eyes narrowed, feeling a bit stung by the lecture Glorfindel had given him, but acknowledging that he had perhaps deserved every remark. Refusing Glorfindel's hand up, he swung down from his branch and quickly reached the ground, only to have Glorfindel eschew help from the last few branches and easily drop to the ground beside him. Glaring at his captain, Elrohir just shook his head and walked away, wisely not saying the words that came to mind.

With a silent chuckle, Glorfindel followed Elrohir back to camp. He watched in satisfaction as Elrohir crossed immediately over to his brother's side before they both vanished into the woods. Choosing to allow them their privacy, Glorfindel made sure that none followed them for their protection. When the twins returned well over two hours later, they both seemed more relaxed and at peace. After watching Elrohir interact with his family and the members of the patrol, he decided that Elrohir could keep his place among the guard. In fact, he took great pleasure in assigning both Elrohir and Elladan to stand guard in the darkest hours for that night's watch.

Beta: Radbooks, Chris, and NiRi

Disclaimers: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, settings, or plots. I just like to play in his sandbox. I also make no money off of any of this.

Chapter 15

The rest of their journey proved uneventful, and it was with great relief that they beheld the gates leading into the palace of King Thranduil. The elves standing guard at the gate called out that their guests had arrived as the great gates swung ponderously inward. Elrond and Celebrían rode through the gates side by side, followed by their children, then Glorfindel and the rest of the guards.

Elrohir grinned at his brother as he saw who was waiting to escort them into the palace. Legolas stood in the courtyard and smiled at the twins as they came into sight. As etiquette demanded, he first greeted Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían, and they returned the traditional greeting. Legolas went through the ritual greetings with Arwen and her brothers, then Lord Glorfindel as the captain of the guards. Once protocol allowed it, Legolas approached Elladan and Elrohir as their party was dismounting from their horses.

"It is good to see you both again," Legolas exclaimed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. The brothers easily returned his enthusiastic greeting, draping an arm across his shoulders and pulling him into a quick embrace before stepping back.

"It is our pleasure to be here," Elrohir remarked, smiling. "And unscathed, no less."

Legolas laughed softly, knowing how often one or the other of the twins returned from their travels injured in some way. It was not that they were careless, merely more reckless with their safety than their parents would wish…especially in battle. "So, you encountered no trouble on your journey?"

"Only one small skirmish," Elladan answered before Elrohir could. "None were injured."

"I am thankful for that," Legolas responded. Glancing around, he saw that Elrond and Celebrían were ready to enter the palace. With a nod to his friends, he moved over to take his place as escort, leading the Lord and Lady of Imladris inside, followed by their children, to meet the King and Queen of Taur-e-Ndaedelos.

Once they reached the room where the royal family received visitors, Legolas nodded to the party from Imladris before crossing the room to stand in front of his family. With a bow to his father, Legolas announced their visitors. When he finished, he moved to stand beside his siblings, relaxing slightly as his formal duties were complete.

Thranduil rose and stepped down from the dais on which his throne stood, bringing himself to an equal level with Elrond, Queen Laeriel joining him to stand at his side. "Elrond, my old friend, it is good to see you again." With a twinkle in his eye, he turned to face Celebrían. "And you grow lovelier every time I see you, Lady Celebrían. I am pleased that you were both able to join us for this time of celebration." He glanced aside at the twins and Arwen. "I am also pleased that all three of your children could come as well." His tone of voice was rather dry as he spoke the last sentence, and Elrond chuckled, knowing some of the tales of the twins' previous visits to the Mirkwood palace.

"It is our honor to be here," Elrond replied smoothly, ignoring the inference. "It is a special honor indeed to meet your daughter on such an auspicious occasion."

Thranduil gestured for his children to join them, and gazed fondly at his youngest child as they approached. "Silaglar, Legolas, you are already well acquainted with our guests. Minuial, this is the Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían and their children, the Lords Elladan and Elrohir and the Lady Arwen." He placed his hand on her shoulder and looked at Elrond again. "And this is my daughter, Minuial."

She bowed her head toward him, giving the proper respect due the ruler of an elven realm. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord."

Elrond returned the formal greeting, then studied her as she greeted the rest of his family. Her coloring was similar to Legolas, with the golden hair and blue eyes of their father. Silaglar was the only one of the three to have their mother's darker hair and green eyes. Elrond could not help noticing the glint of interest and curiosity in her eyes as she turned to greet Elladan and Elrohir. Either she had heard tales of them from her siblings, or she was simply curious about meeting twins, a rarity among elves.

Once all of the proper greetings were finished and Minuial had met all of the visitors from Imladris, Thranduil turned to his children. "Legolas, Minuial, would you please show our guests to their rooms while we take council with Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían?"

Legolas bowed his head to his father and turned to the twins and Arwen, sweeping his arm out toward the doorway. "If you would care to come with us?"

Elladan glanced aside as he heard his father murmur something too soft for him to make out, but the comment was swiftly followed by laughter from Thranduil, and tolerant looks from their wives. An amused look flitted across Elladan's face as he turned to the doorway. He always enjoyed seeing the more relaxed side of his father and the woodland king that so few were allowed to see.

Minuial fell into step beside Arwen as they exited the room, looking back to see her eldest brother leaving by another door. "Why did Adar not ask Silaglar to join us?" she asked Legolas. Her expression was rather too innocent, hinting that perhaps she knew the story behind her brother's enmity for the twins.

With a chuckle, it was Elrohir who answered, willing to go along with her question. "For some reason, your brother is none too fond of Elladan and me." He held the door open until they had all passed through, then let it swing silently closed.

"You know perfectly well why he would rather not spend time in your company, Elrohir. As do you," Legolas answered with a laugh and a sidelong glance at his sister, walking beside Elrohir. The twins had visited enough times that they did not need anyone to lead them to the guest rooms they occupied when they were in the realm.

"He cannot still be carrying a grudge over that incident, surely," Elladan grumbled. "It was seventeen centuries ago. Your brother is merely a…" a grunt escaped him as Elrohir fell back a step and elbowed him. "Was that necessary?" he asked with a glare at his brother.

Elrohir shot a glance at Arwen and Minuial, smoothly changing the subject and ignoring his brother's pique. Having only met Minuial, he felt it was hardly polite to begin making disparaging comments about one of her brothers. "You will have to visit Lothlórien some day, Legolas. We were there only a few months ago, visiting our grandparents. It is as beautiful as ever."

"Though I wonder if the two of you will be welcome there again," Arwen put in with a wry smile.

"Why? What did you do?" Legolas asked with a grin, sensing a story. He looked back and forth between Elladan and Elrohir waiting for an answer.

"It was nothing," Elladan said, waving a hand in dismissal. "When we were attempting to be on our best behavior, Haldir began complaining that we did not seem ourselves. Haldir is the march warden of Lothlórien," he explained to Minuial. He shrugged slightly. "So, we found a way to ease his mind on the subject."

"It was all Elladan's idea," Elrohir said, pointing to his brother.

"You did not take much convincing," Elladan retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So what did you do to him?" Legolas asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

When it looked as if neither would make a full confession, Arwen spoke up for them. "They painted designs on Haldir's face with a dye that takes several days to fade."

"How did you manage to get him to hold still for such a thing?" Minuial asked in genuine confusion and curiosity.

"We slipped a sedative into his drink," Elrohir said with a shrug.

"You put him to sleep?" she asked, not sure whether to be amused or horrified.

"They have been well trained in the arts of healing and herblore by their father," Legolas explained. "Most times, they use that knowledge for good. However, there are other times…" The smirk on his face made it clear how else they used their knowledge.

"Which you have taken advantage of on more than one occasion," Elladan put in, not allowing Legolas to pretend to be innocent of the pranks that they were famous for.

Minuial glanced back and forth between the twins and her older brother, a bemused look on her face. Arwen leaned in and took her arm. "You will grow used to this, the more you see them together."

Laughing, Minuial looked over at Legolas. "I am used to seeing my brother in such playful moods, but there are few others who will indulge his moods beyond myself."

"Ah, so you will join in his fun?" Elrohir asked with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Legolas gave him a mock glare. "My sister is not to be pulled into your foolishness," he warned.

"Should she not make such a decision for herself?" Elladan asked with a sly glance at the younger elleth. The thought flickered through his mind that perhaps they had found a willing partner to help them in their on-going playful war with Legolas.

"Elladan," Arwen chided her brother. "Do not pull her into your games." She turned to Minuial. "I've found that it is best not to take part in their little war. And it is truly much more amusing to stand on the sidelines and watch."

"It seems we have reached your rooms," Legolas said hastily, trying to turn the conversation away from possible involvement of his sister in the pranks of the twins. He was almost afraid that they would be able to recruit her help against him, and did not want that idea being put in her head.

Giving him a grin that said he knew what Legolas was thinking, Elladan inclined his head in a faintly mocking manner. "So we have." He turned toward Arwen and Minuial. "It seems our dear friend Legolas is trying to be rid of us, so I will see you both shortly." Glancing back to Legolas, Elladan continued. "I assume we will dine at the usual time?"

"Yes, and it will be a formal affair this eve, so please be properly attired," Legolas said, affecting a regal air, then spoiling the effect with a mischievous grin. He knew that while the twins were accustomed to wearing their formal robes in Imladris for many occasions, they preferred to wear more simple clothing, as they did when traveling.

Elladan rolled his eyes at his friend, then turned and opened the door to the room he shared with Elrohir, disappearing inside. Elrohir nodded his head toward Legolas, Arwen and Minuial. "I will see you all at dinner." When they returned the sentiment, he turned and followed his brother inside.

Upon entering the room, he saw that Elladan had already made himself comfortable on his usual bed, the one closest to the door. Resting on one elbow, Elladan nodded toward the door as Elrohir closed it behind him. "So, any ideas on what we might do to Legolas this time?"

Elrohir plopped onto his back on the other bed and stared at the ceiling in thought for a moment before replying. "I suggest we do nothing."

"Nothing?" Elladan sat up on the bed and stared across the room at his brother in confusion. "How does that pay him back for the soap?"

Stretching, Elrohir brought his hands behind his head and rested against them. "It certainly seemed to bother Haldir, didn't it?"

Elladan just looked at his brother as if he had lost his mind. "Haldir was bothered more by the fact that we were acting in an unusual manner. I would hardly suggest we revert back to that behavior. It took enough effort to convince our parents that they do not need to worry over us. It would be counterproductive to return to that state."

Elrohir laughed lightly. "That is not what I was suggesting. We can remain our normal cheerful selves, and Legolas will be waiting for us to do something to him. He is expecting something to happen, and when it doesn't, he will continue to wait, sure that around every bend will be a trap to be sprung."

A wicked grin spread across Elladan's face. "He will spend our entire visit here in suspense, waiting for a prank that never happens. By the time we leave, he will be ready to jump out of his skin. Quite cunning, little brother."

"Why, thank you," Elrohir said with a nod to his brother.

"But what if he decides that he should take the initiative and act against us?" Elladan asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

"We are in his home, we should be relatively safe," Elrohir responded. "He will not do much against us with the chance that his father will find out and become displeased with him. Most of the things he has done to us have been in Imladris or our travels. "

Elladan thought back over their long history together, and concluded that his brother was correct. "Genius, true genius."

Sitting up on the bed, Elrohir laughed lightly. "And the best part is that now we do not need to worry about coming up with something else to do to him." Standing, he started rummaging around in the closet where their clothes were neatly hanging. "It never ceases to amaze me how efficient Thranduil's people are. We have barely been here long enough to exchange greetings, and our belongings have already been settled in our rooms."

"Do not let Erestor hear you say that," Elladan said, moving to stand beside Elrohir and reaching past him to grab a set of formal robes. "He would be hurt if you thought Thranduil's seneschal runs the palace more smoothly than he runs Imladris."

Choosing his own set of robes, Elrohir chuckled. "We cannot have that, or he would make our lives miserable. We will simply not mention that we discussed this, shall we?"

They bantered easily as they cleaned up after their journey and readied themselves for the evening meal. Elladan had chosen robes in a deep green with gold embroidery on the collar and cuffs, while Elrohir chose to wear black with silver embroidery down the front. After a last check to be sure that their robes and circlets were sitting as they should, they left their room to head to the dining hall.

When they entered the hall, they found a larger number of people than they had expected. Pausing in the doorway as Legolas approached them, they glanced around, finding their father deep in conversation with Thranduil. Arwen was already seated, and speaking easily with those around her. Two empty seats remained beside her, presumably waiting for the two of them.

"Legolas?" Elladan questioned with a raised eyebrow and a curious glance around the room.

"I did say it was a formal occasion," Legolas replied with a grin. "I merely forgot to mention that it would be attended by all those who have had a part in raising Minuial from her childhood as well as our family and guests. This is the last night that she will be considered a child. Tomorrow she will be declared an adult, and this is the chance for her tutors, nurses, trainers and the staff who have watched her grow to adulthood to spend time with her before the ceremony." With a gesture toward the room, he indicated their waiting chairs. "Would you care to be seated?"

"We are not late, are we?" Elrohir asked, noticing that most of the other seats were already taken.

"No, the dinner is not starting just yet, do not worry," Legolas said. As they approached the table, he nodded to Arwen. "I see you have already made an acquaintance with your neighbors." Turning to the twins, he gestured to those sitting near their chairs, introducing the tutors and trainers in turn. "You will have a chance to meet the others after dinner." Looking over, he saw his father gesturing to him. "And now I must take my leave of you. Have a pleasant meal." With that, Legolas nodded to those seated at the table and moved to take his own place with his family.

Elladan and Elrohir seated themselves and turned their attention to Arwen and the others seated around them. Arwen turned back to the elleth across the table that she had been speaking with before the interruption caused by the arrival of her brothers. She had been introduced as Mereneth, the tutor that had been with Minuial since she was old enough to start lessons. She had hair the color of honey and pale blue eyes that could have seemed cold but for the warmth filling them as she spoke. She looked back and forth between the identical elves, then looked at Arwen with curiosity. "I have never met identical twins. How do you tell them apart?"

A mischievous gleam entered Elrohir's eyes and he replied before Arwen could answer. "That is simple. I am the better looking, more charming, better tempered, and…ooof," he grunted as Elladan elbowed him in the ribs.

"More modest…" Elladan put in smoothly with an eyebrow raised toward his brother while Elrohir regained his breath.

Mereneth laughed at their antics while Arwen just raised her eyebrows and glanced aside at her brothers. "You have both been in a very odd mood lately." She looked back to Mereneth. "At times, it seems they have never grown up. I would think them mere elflings if I did not know better."

Elrohir rubbed his ribs and glanced over at his sister. "We are simply in a good mood. Is that so unusual?" He raised his hand in a halting gesture. "No, please refrain from answering that question." Giving Mereneth a wry grin, he dropped his arm back to his side. "I learned long ago that it is never wise to ask a sibling if there is something unusual about you. You will inevitably not appreciate the answer." As Mereneth chuckled, he glanced between her and Arwen. "What were the two of you discussing before we joined you?"

"Gondolin," Arwen answered. "Mereneth is a scholar whose interests focus on the history of the Eldar. She has studied and taught many other subjects, but history is what she loves best."

Giving the other an appraising look, Elrohir propped his elbow on the table and leaned in closer. "If you wish to know the history of Gondolin, there is one here you should ask. Glorfindel is sitting just down the table, near our father. He could tell you much more of that time and place than any of us."

Her eyes widened at his comment, and she shook her head quickly. "Oh, I could not ask him."

"Why not?" Elrohir asked in confusion, glancing down the table at his captain, before looking back to the elleth across the table. "I am sure he would be willing to discuss it with you. We have heard many tales of that great kingdom and the people who dwelt within it over the years."

A look of shock crossed her face. "You want me to talk to Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, balrog-slayer, one who died and returned to life in Arda?" Her voice rose in pitch as she spoke, sounding little more than a squeak when she finished.

Soft laughter rolled out of Elrohir as he shook his head. "There is nothing to worry about. Glorfindel is quite gentle and kind. You have nothing to fear from him."

A wry chuckle escaped Elladan at that comment. "Don’t let him hear you say that, or our next training session will be more grueling than any before it." At Mereneth's wide-eyed look, Elladan relented. "Of course, he is much harder on those he trains than he would be on an innocent elleth asking questions from genuine interest."

"We can introduce you after the meal," Elrohir said gently, "if you would like."

"I think I would prefer to discuss it with the three of you first," she responded shyly. "You have heard many of his tales, as you said, but you are not quite so intimidating." A rueful smile crossed her face as she admitted that she found Glorfindel so formidable that she could barely even think of speaking to him.

Raising an eyebrow, Elrohir glanced at his brother. "Not as intimidating as Glorfindel? Should we be hurt?"

Rolling his eyes, Elladan just shook his head. "Arwen was correct. You are in a strange mood tonight. Glorfindel's history is much more impressive than our own. We have known him our whole lives, but for those who have never met him, he can seem rather imposing." He shrugged and turned his attention back to the tutor. "What would you like to discuss?"

"I would love to hear any stories you have," she answered enthusiastically, looking back and forth among the siblings. "I have never actually spoken to anyone who had been there. Second hand stories, surviving journal accounts, and the history that all are taught are the sum of my knowledge." She blushed slightly as she continued. "Though I am fascinated with our history, I have seen very little of it for myself, you see. I am a little younger than Prince Legolas, and have devoted my life to scholarly pursuits. My mother was Legolas' tutor and she instilled in me a love of learning. It was my greatest honor to be appointed to teach Minuial. Whatever you choose to relate, it will be wondrous to me."

Arwen and Elladan looked to Elrohir, and he nodded. He had always been the most fascinated by Glorfindel's stories, though all three had loved to hear them. Elrohir started by telling a tale of Glorfindel and Ecthelion in the high days of Gondolin, long before the enemy found them, when all was calm and peaceful. Many of Glorfindel's tales had focused on the wonders of Gondolin and the life he had lived there. The tales continued throughout the meal, with Elladan and Arwen chiming in when they thought Elrohir forgot an important detail. Mereneth took in each story with fascination, enthralled with all she was learning. Her questions were discerning and insightful as she sought to learn some aspect not covered in the tales. It was toward the end of the meal that the subject of the fall of the great city entered the conversation.

Elrohir sat back in his seat with a grave expression on his face. "I cannot imagine it. Even though I have seen many battles and skirmishes in my time, destruction on that scale still escapes me. I shudder to think what they must have felt at the moment that they realized they had been found. The sheer horror of losing the home they loved, nearly everyone they knew, with only a handful of people able to escape…" He shook his head and stared down at his plate. "I fear that in their place, I would have lost myself to the horror and pain of it."

His voice held a hint of the pain he was imagining, and Elladan reached out, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. The elder twin knew that Elrohir was thinking of how he would feel in that situation, Imladris besieged, their parents and Arwen in mortal danger. Gently squeezing the shoulder upon which his hand lay, he turned back to Mereneth. "By the time they knew the enemy had found them, there was little they could do. They fought to protect their home and people, but there was no hope of defeating the forces arrayed against them. If not for Idril's foresight in creating the escape tunnel, all would have perished there."

"And our family line would have ended there as well," Arwen said softly, watching her brothers.

Mereneth was silent for a moment, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I did not mean to bring pain to any of you."

"You are not to blame," Arwen said, reaching out and touching her hand reassuringly. "I suppose we are more sensitive to this topic, knowing Glorfindel as we do and knowing a little of what he suffered there. He seldom speaks of the fall, but when he does, there is such pain in his eyes…" Her voice trailed off and she fell silent.

Staring at the table, not seeming to notice those around him, Elrohir spoke quietly so that the others had to strain to hear him. "I made the mistake once of asking him about the battle with the balrog." A shudder swept through his frame. "For a long moment, he simply stared at me. I was about to apologize and leave when he answered my impertinent question." He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "It is not something I would ever wish to hear again." Shaking his head abruptly, he opened his eyes and looked at the others. "Forgive me. This night is supposed to be a celebration, is it not? Perhaps we should find a more cheerful subject of which to speak." Looking around the room, he noticed that those who had finished their meal were leaving the tables behind to gather in the open half of the room, to mix and speak with more people than was possible during a meal.

Taking a deep breath, he gave a small smile. "Shall we join the others?" Seeing that Glorfindel was standing off to the side by himself, observing the people in the room, Elrohir turned to face Mereneth. "We can introduce you to Glorfindel, and you can ask him all the questions you like. So long as you do not broach the topic of the fall of Gondolin, he will be perfectly willing to answer them."

Mereneth looked back and forth between the three siblings. "Very well. I would like to meet him, so long as you stay with me."

Elrohir laughed. "We would not leave you to speak with Glorfindel alone, knowing how imposing you find him." He stood to his feet and gestured for the others to stand. "Come," he said, walking around the table to offer Mereneth his arm.

Mereneth took a deep breath as they approached Glorfindel with Arwen and Elladan. Elrohir made the introductions, and Mereneth managed to find her voice long enough to start asking her questions. Once Glorfindel began answering her and telling his memories of Gondolin, several others stopped by to listen, including Minuial, Legolas and many of the younger elves that had never heard his stories. Quite a crowd had gathered by the time Glorfindel called a halt to the storytelling. "I think that is enough for one night."

A small smile quirked his lips at the grumbles from his audience. Waiting until the crowd dispersed, he turned to the children of his lord and their new friend. "I believe they would have kept me talking all night." He glanced aside to where a selection of drinks was laid out on a table against the wall. "And if you will excuse me, I think I will go and ease my thirst." Looking back to them, he nodded to first Mereneth and then the others. "It was a pleasure to meet you, fair lady. I will see you all at the morning meal." With that, he headed for the table of refreshments, took a glass of Dorwinion wine and then joined Elrond and Thranduil in conversation.

Elrohir looked at Mereneth, a grin spread across his face. "That was not so difficult, was it?"

Smiling back, she shook her head. "Not difficult at all. You were correct. Lord Glorfindel is much easier to talk to than I had anticipated. I did quite enjoy his stories. Perhaps I can hear more later."

"We will be here for several weeks," Elrohir said with a small shrug. "I am sure you will find more opportunities to speak with him. In the meantime, I would like to discuss Thingol and Melian. I am curious to know if the Sindar have any different tales than are known to us. I have spent some time in Thranduil's libraries, but have not had as much time as I would like there. In my conversations with Legolas, historical events and peoples are not often the topic."

Mereneth's face lit with pleasure at the thought of finding someone else who would be interested in discussing history. "I would enjoy that."

Elladan just gave his brother a wry grin. His main interest in history was tactical in nature, wanting to know how others had won and lost engagements and battles throughout history. Elrohir, on the other hand, had always been interested in knowing what people thought and felt and why they reacted the way they did. With a smile, Elladan took Arwen's arm and they took their leave of the two as they became immersed in their conversation.

Once they were back in their room after the feasting ended, Elrohir plopped down on his bed. Relaxing back into the cushioned surface with a sigh, he looked over at his brother and grinned. "For a formal dinner, that was not as tedious as I might have expected."

Elladan gave a soft huff of amusement as he removed his silver circlet and put it away in a drawer. "Despite being a formal dinner, it was also a feast in the woodland style, though I imagine tomorrow's feast will be much more festive and on a much larger scale. You did not seem as if you found it the least bit tedious."

"Having an intelligent dinner companion helped," Elrohir said, giving his older brother a smirk.

"Why do I get the impression you do not refer to me?" Elladan asked wryly.

Elrohir laughed at the disgruntled tone in Elladan's voice. "You have to admit that you rarely wish to discuss history with me unless it revolves around battle tactics and decisions. I enjoyed speaking with another who shares my interests." Pushing himself to a sitting position, he watched as Elladan moved about the room, putting his formal clothes aside and changing into sleeping attire. "Do you think Arwen was correct, that we were behaving in an unusual manner tonight?"

Sitting down on his bed, Elladan gazed at his brother and contemplated the question seriously. "Perhaps," Elladan allowed. "But I would consider it to be due to relief. We were finally settling into our lives here, believing that Naneth was safe. Then we were attacked on the journey here." Raising a hand, he headed off anything Elrohir was about to say. "While we have already discussed the memories that event brought back to the both of us, it did cause us both a great deal of fear and worry. Upon arriving here, we realized that Naneth was safe again. I have seen such relief cause euphoria in many experienced warriors."

Elrohir grew still as he thought over Elladan's words. "Perhaps you are correct," he replied finally. "There is a great sense of relief within me that we arrived here safely. As many times as you and I have been in battle, never have those battles included our parents and Arwen. We have never had so much to lose." He nodded to himself, then looked back at his brother. "In this, I must agree with your assessment."

Stretching, Elladan reclined back upon his bed. "So, you admit that your brother is not so dull after all?"

"Well," Elrohir gave him a wicked grin, "I did not say that." Elladan just rolled his eyes, then laid down, ignoring Elrohir. With a smirk, Elrohir rose from his bed to make his own preparations for sleep. As he settled back into his bed some minutes later, he heard Elladan's soft voice.

"At least the euphoria is usually short-lived. I do not believe Thranduil would ever forgive us if we did anything to interfere with the ceremony tomorrow evening." Elladan's voice was slow with sleep.

Elrohir's voice was amused as he responded. "Were we to do that, we would not only answer to Thranduil, but Legolas, Adar, Naneth, Arwen, Glorfindel…" He shuddered as he kept thinking of those to add to the list. "No, I agree that we must behave as is expected of those in our position."

"Besides, I would hate to disappoint Minuial. She seems a much more likable person than her eldest brother," Elladan said softly just before drifting off to sleep.

Shaking his head at the thought that Elladan had to remind him to behave during the ceremony the next night, Elrohir stared at the ceiling for a few moments before following his brother into slumber.

---------------------------------

The next morning, after rising, the twins dressed in the tunics and leggings they often wore when there were no formal demands upon them. While the royal household would be quite busy with preparation for the ceremony and feast to follow, Elladan and Elrohir were guests and had no obligations until the evening's events. After a quick stop in the dining hall to partake of the fruits, breads, pastries and juices on offer, they gathered their weapons and made their way to the training field.

Finding a training session with a group of novices taking place, Elladan and Elrohir found a free corner of the field and began sparring lightly to loosen their muscles before beginning to spar in earnest. The first match lasted half an hour before they reached a pause, Elladan twisting and swinging his sword at Elrohir, only to have Elrohir's sword stop the motion with a clash. Staring at each other over their straining swords, they finally nodded and stepped back, taking a moment to catch their breath.

It was only at that moment, as they glanced around, that they realized all of the novices on the field, as well as the trainer, were watching their sparring session. Elladan and Elrohir stared at each other, nonplused to find themselves the center of attention. Seeing their discomfort, the trainer approached them.

"Forgive us, my lords," he said, bowing his head toward them. "I am Thallion, and it is my responsibility to ensure that these novices are well trained and able to defend themselves and their people when they leave these walls. I could not help noticing how well you both fight and decided my students would learn a great deal by observing you. I hope we did not make you uncomfortable."

"It is well," Elrohir assured him. "We were only surprised. We chose this location because we thought it far enough from your class not to be a distraction."

Glancing between them, he smiled as he realized they were not offended by the scrutiny. "Would you be interested in demonstrating your skills as part of today's lesson?"

At Elladan's shrug, Elrohir replied for them both. "We would enjoy helping with your training session today."

For the rest of the morning, the twins assisted Thallion with the novices. They demonstrated whichever moves the trainer wished, then worked personally with the novices to help them learn the motions that could one day save their lives. The hours passed quickly, and before they knew it, it was time to go back to the dining hall for the noon meal. As with breakfast, it was an informal meal this day, with people taking only long enough to stop in and grab a quick meal before returning to the preparations for the evening's festivities. When they entered the room, they saw Glorfindel seated at a table alone. After choosing their meals, they joined him.

Glancing at their still disheveled appearance and the weapons hanging from their belts, a small smile crossed his lips. "Only here for a day, and you have already found your way to the training fields? I at least hope you have been practicing what I taught you before you left Imladris. Your reactions were still rather sloppy at our last session."

"Sloppy?" a voice asked in disbelief from behind them.

Turning, Elladan and Elrohir saw Thallion approaching their table, his food balanced on the plates in his hands. Motioning for him to join them, they introduced him to Glorfindel, and his expression changed from amazement to one of deep respect. After greeting Glorfindel, Thallion took a seat across from Elladan. "Perhaps their movements could be considered clumsy to you, my lord, but there are few others who would make that assessment. I asked them to help in the training of my students this morning, and I do believe the novices learned a great deal. The sons of Elrond proved themselves quite adept in the art of teaching, and showed an uncommon patience with those they trained."

Elrohir waved off the compliments. "We enjoy sharing our skills with others. It is the greatest thing a warrior can do, training others to be able to defend themselves and those they love."

Seconding his brother's sentiment, Elladan spoke up. "We would not be alive today if not for the training we received from Glorfindel and others. It was our honor to help you today in giving those novices the same chances for survival."

Glancing back and forth between the identical brothers, Thallion broached a question he had wanted to ask since the first moment he saw how well they worked with his students. "I know you will not be here more than a few weeks, but would you be willing to work with the novices in their morning sessions while you are here? I could use the help, and they will benefit greatly from your training."

A quick look over at his brother was all that Elrohir needed, and he turned to Thallion, saying, "It would be our honor."

For the remainder of their meal, the four spoke of various training methods and worked out a schedule between Thallion and the twins. After he had finished eating, Thallion stood and excused himself, so that he could return to his duties. Once he left, Glorfindel stared at the brothers. "I believe I will accompany you tomorrow morning. I would like to observe how you interact with the novices."

An amused smile crept across Elrohir's face. "Why, Glorfindel, it sounds as if you do not believe that we are capable of training them."

Glorfindel sat back in his chair, glancing around to be sure none would overhear. "Patience is not a quality I would have attributed to either of you," he murmured with a significant look. That look made it obvious he was referring to their years of battling orcs, years that had not happened in this version of history.

Elladan shook his head, not allowing Glorfindel's inference to bother him. "You forget, Glorfindel, that we have helped train generations of Isildur's heirs to survive in the wilds. Even if we have not trained as many elves as you have, or over as long a period of time, there is nothing that can be compared to trying to train overly energetic children. In that, we have a great deal of experience, and have learned patience. Do not fear that we will lose patience with the young elves we will train here."

A wry smile crossed Glorfindel's face as he saw the truth in their words. They had trained many of Isildur's heirs over the years, though he was sure that Elladan referred to one heir in particular; one who was not yet born. "You are correct, Elladan. It can be most trying to one's patience to attempt training children. I remember one time in particular that you and your brother thought you were ready to begin training with real swords. That incident nearly ended up in your brother losing a hand, if I recall."

Elladan's face flushed as Glorfindel started laughing. He had not expected the golden-haired elf to turn the conversation in that direction, though he supposed he should have. Knowing he was rising to the bait, he could not but help to respond. "The blade never touched him."

"No, but it was a close thing," Glorfindel said. He turned more serious then, gazing back and forth between them. "Perhaps you are ready for more responsibility in the Imladris guard. I know you have led your own patrols for several centuries now, but when we return, I would like to discuss the training regimen of our warriors. Perhaps you would like to take a more active role in designing and carrying out their training?"

At their astonished expressions, he simply nodded to them and stood from the table. "Consider it." Turning on his heel, he walked away, leaving them staring until he left the room.

Elrohir turned to his brother. "Did Glorfindel just treat us as his equals rather than errant children?"

A chuckle escaped Elladan. "He has treated us as adults many times in the past, Elrohir. But you are correct. Even in those times, I had the sense that he was working not to see us as the children we once were. Perhaps these recent events have forced him to see that we have long since grown up." He shrugged, looking toward the doorway in which he had disappeared. Noting the pensive look on Elrohir's face, he had to ask. "Does that trouble you?"

Looking off into the distance for a long moment, Elrohir thought over his answer before speaking. "When I was younger, I wanted nothing more than for our parents, Glorfindel and the others to see me as an adult, trusting that I could make the correct decisions for myself. Now that it has happened, I feel as if we have lost something. Odd." His tone was distant as he mused over the feeling. Shaking his head abruptly, he leaned back in his seat. "Do not mind me. Things have been odd for some time now." He glanced around the room. "Should we go see what the rest of our family is doing? There are still several hours before we need to be ready for tonight."

Leaving the dining hall, they wandered the grounds, finding Arwen and Celebrían deep in conversation about the best environment and methods to ensure the growth of a particular type of rose that Celebrían grew in her gardens as well. Nodding to them, the twins continued on, not overly interested in how to grow the flowers, though they did enjoy the final results as much as any other elf. For the remainder of the afternoon, they wandered the grounds and gardens, enjoying the sense of peace that still surrounded the palace, though much of the surrounding woods grew darker by the day.

It was finally time to retire to their rooms to begin their preparations for the evening. Taking turns in the bathing chamber, they rid themselves of the grime of the day and changed into their formal robes, sparing no effort for the ceremony. Elladan chose a robe of a deep blue with silver edging and embroidery, while Elrohir dressed in a robe of a dark burgundy with gold thread. After braiding their hair in a formal style, they carefully placed the mithril and gold circlets on their heads. Giving his brother a once over, Elladan nodded in satisfaction. "I believe we are ready. Shall we?" He gestured toward the door, letting Elrohir lead the way toward the Great Hall where the ceremony would take place.

They quickly took their places with their family and the other honored guests, standing and talking quietly before the ceremony began. Elrohir took note of the fact that there seemed to be a delegation of noblemen from Laketown also in attendance. The hushed conversations ceased as Thranduil entered with his family, moving to stand before the assembled crowd. Raising his hand, Thranduil welcomed his guests and intoned the traditional chant to begin the ceremony.

As usual, when Elrohir witnessed the coming of age ceremony, he could not help but think about the future of the one who had just reached adulthood. In this case, what would Minuial's life be like? For the next five hundred years, her realm would be under siege from the forces gathered in Dol Guldur. The forest around them would fall further and further under the darkness with little hope in sight. What would become of her? Would she be able to hold onto the hope of better times for their world? Elrohir had not had much contact with her in his own time line, though he had heard Legolas often speak of his younger sister. In his time, she had turned her attention to the art of diplomacy and a study of music. Though he did not think that their actions should change anything about her life, there were now more than twenty elves from Imladris here that were not present in the original history. How would that affect the elves of Mirkwood? Would it affect them at all, or would events progress exactly as they had before? So lost in his thoughts was he that he almost missed the ending of the ceremony. Jolted out of his musings when the crowd around him began speaking the traditional closing, he quickly joined his voice to theirs.

After the ceremony, the crowd filed outside to where the feast was to be held. Long tables full of food were scattered around the clearing in front of the palace. The gifts that had been presented to Minuial were elsewhere, and she would get to them in her own time. Once the royal family joined the crowd outside, well-wishers gathered around Minuial to congratulate and speak with her. Allowing the crowd to thin somewhat, Elladan and Elrohir made their way forward to offer their own congratulations. Minuial thanked them in the proper manner, then turned to her next guest. Her official duties would soon be finished, leaving her to enjoy the feast as she would, but she must first greet all of her guests.

Once the initial greetings were finished, the guests began filling their plates and partaking of the fine foods and drinks set out for their pleasure. Elrohir chose his favorites from the vast offerings and joined his brother and Thallion near a stand of beech trees as they discussed various fighting styles and the best way to train others. Glorfindel soon joined them, and they spoke for a time until Thallion saw someone else with whom he needed to speak. Legolas joined them for a few moments, but his duties kept him from staying long. Once their food was finished, Elladan and Elrohir took their drinks and wandered among the other guests, stopping to speak with some, nodding and smiling in passing to others. At some point, Elrohir continued on while his brother became engrossed in conversation, and he found himself at the edge of the clearing, beyond the circle of light given off by the fires and torches.

Gazing upward at the vista of sparkling stars stretched above him against the velvet darkness of the night, his eyes easily found Eärendil. His mind fell back into his earlier musings as he watched the stars in their nightly paths far beyond the concerns of those who dwelt on Arda.

"You seem far removed from here at this moment," a soft voice spoke out of the darkness, breaking into his thoughts.

Turning, Elrohir saw Mereneth standing a few feet away, watching him. He could not help but notice how becoming she looked with the light from the fires behind her surrounding her in a nimbus of radiance. The flickering fire cast rays that scattered and bounced off of her hair and Elrohir had to take a moment to appreciate the overall effect before he could smile at her and incline his head to invite her closer. "I suppose my thoughts were far from this place and time," he replied in answer to her comment.

"Where then were your thoughts just now?" she asked as she came to stand near him, leaving the rest of the party behind.

In response, Elrohir turned his attention back toward the sky and pointed upward. Following his arm, she quickly found Eärendil. When she glanced back to Elrohir, he saw her eyes light up with curiosity and excitement at the thought of being able to discuss Eärendil with a member of his family. "Your grandfather? Do you often seek him out in the quiet of the night?"

"Quite often," Elrohir answered softly, still gazing upward. "Whenever we sleep beneath the stars, out on patrol, gathered around a campfire, or simply when I happen to have a moment to myself on a night such as this."

Hearing the serious note in his voice, she quieted the note of excitement in hers. "What do you ponder when you watch him?"

Elrohir struggled to put into words his feelings about Eärendil and their family history. "Many things cross my mind, but I find myself wondering who he was, why he made the choices he did." At her confused look, he elaborated. "I know why he made the choice to go to Valinor. If not for his call for help from the Valar, the War of Wrath would have ended very differently. At that point, his actions were necessary, and I am quite grateful that he took them. No, I refer more to his earlier choices. I have never understood how he could have so easily left behind a wife and two sons to sail the seas, searching for what he could never find." His gaze was distant as he reflected on Earendil's choice to search for his parents, even knowing as he did that he had sailed also to find Valinor, a quest which was ultimately fulfilled, to the benefit of all of Arda.

Eyes narrowing, Mereneth pondered Elrohir's words. "Do you disagree with his choice, knowing how necessary his actions were to the salvation of our world?"

His next words did not directly answer her question. "My father has no memory of his father. Is that fair to him? Was it fair to his brother, or their mother? I understand the necessity of making sacrifices for the good of your people, but did he not love his family enough to stay near them?" He glanced briefly at her before turning his attention back to the stars. "He never even made an attempt to save his sons from their captors. Had my brother and I been taken in similar circumstances, Adar would have ridden against the very forces of Morgoth to retrieve us. How then could his father turn away so easily?" His voice dropped to a whisper as he continued. "Ada has seen so much loss in his life, his parents, his brother, his king, his…" Elrohir bit off the next word, not completing the thought.

"You identify with your father in this," Mereneth commented softly. "That is understandable. You know and love him, and you never knew your grandfather. But can you not place yourself in his position at all? Do his choices truly make no sense to you? Do not take away from the despair and pain he must have felt at knowing his sons were in enemy hands and there was nothing he could do to retrieve them. Is there a grudge in your heart against him for his actions?"

A soft sigh escaped Elrohir. "No, I bear him no grudge. His life has always struck me as a tragic one. He survived the fall of Gondolin, only to see his new home destroyed and his family taken, the survivors of his people uniting under Gil-Galad. Even though he reached Valinor and brought the aid of the Valar to Arda in its time of need, he never saw his sons again, and chose to be of elf-kind for the sake of his wife, though it would not have been his choice otherwise. And now, he sails the trackless seas far above the cares and concerns of Arda, seldom returning to the wife he loves. It seems a very lonely existence to me."

"I suppose it does, at that," Mereneth said, stepping closer and placing a tentative hand on his arm. "But consider this, if his life had been any different, would events have happened as they did? Without his journey to Valinor, Morgoth would have prevailed. Though your father's early life was far from ideal, would he have become who he is without those experiences? We are formed by all of the experiences of our lives, Elrohir, the good and the bad. Do not dwell on the sorrows of the past, or you will be unable to see the joys of the life you have, and that would be a loss, indeed."

A wry grin crossed Elrohir's face. "You speak as one of the wise, though your advice sounds odd coming from one who studies the past." He shook his head abruptly, reaching up to gently squeeze the hand resting on his arm. "Thank you. I did not mean to dwell on such thoughts this evening. This is supposed to be a celebration, is it not?" As he released her hand, she withdrew it and took a step back toward the light and sound of the festivities.

Her head tilted to the side. "The music has started; the dancing can not be far behind. Would you care to join me?" Her eyes were bright as she glanced back over her shoulder toward the others.

Elrohir hesitated. "Dancing is not a skill at which I excel."

"Nonsense," she laughed. "You are a warrior, are you not? If you can fight, you can learn to dance. Come." She held a hand out toward him, and he allowed himself to be drawn toward the group of dancing elves, grumbling the entire time. A small quirk of his lips showed that he was not as unhappy with the situation as he pretended.

Neither of them noticed Elladan standing in the shadows watching them, a concerned expression on his face.