A/N: I´m so very sorry for the long delay, but unfortunately real life is so far away from Middle Earth. Don´t worry the story is long finished only not beta readed, but now I hope all will go faster. I hope you can return  to the story line and enjoy nonetheless. Lai

Chapter 3:  playing God

After a duel of flashing eyes Aragorn broke the eye contact with his wife and directed his gaze at the healer.

“Master Tarostar would you please excuse us?”

The healer inclined his head and left the room. Aragorn waited until the door was closed.

“Arwen,” Aragorn begun and his voice held a warning note. “You know how much I have unlimited confidence in the skills of your brothers and never can any man match their experience, but with all due respect, not even they have ever done such a surgery. The risk of killing our son right away is much too great. I will never agree with such an operation. Apart from all that, they are hundreds of miles away from us and would arrive in two months at the earliest if they left immediately. That’s ridiculous.”

The Queen had not blinked once while Aragorn was speaking. She looked at her husband with a set face.

“Are you done?” she asked with a clipped tone. “Even under great risk, my brothers would do such a surgery if they saw the tiniest chance to rescue our son and I have to correct you. They are already near the city or have you forgotten, my love, that in three months hence your 95^th birthday will be celebrated?”

Aragorn swallowed. With all the strain of the last days he had nearly forgotten about that, even if this was neigh impossible. For the past several weeks the inhabitants of the city, the staff of the palace and of course the people of his near surroundings had only one topic of discussion:   his birthday. As much as he hated this fuss about his person, he had no other choice but to play along. Celebrations such as these were also part of the duties of a King. What he had not known was that the twins had planned to attend. He assumed it was probably supposed to be a surprise.

“Elladan and Elrohir will be here for my birthday?” he asked looking at his wife. His brothers usually avoided visiting Minas Tirith, knowing how difficult their visits could be for their sister who was still learning to cope with her life among men.

“It was to be a surprise,” Arwen answered for the first time lowering her eyes, her tone had softened considerably. When Aragorn saw the first teardrop sliding down his wife’s cheek he stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug.

“If there is any chance to rescue Eldarion with this surgery, you should agree. Aragorn please…..”

Aragorn did not know what to say. Never had Arwen begged for his permission and he hated to hear her do so now. If there was any chance for his son to be rescued by any operation then he would, of course, approve.

“Ssht,” Aragorn said calmingly and instantly he felt how Arwen relaxed against him. She lifted her face and Aragorn placed a gently kiss on her lips.

“When will the Twins arrive? Do they even know what has happened?” He could imagine that Arwen had already found a way to inform her brothers.

“Yesterday I got the message that they are already crossing the plains of Pelennor. They should arrive within the day. I had no chance to inform them beforehand; I dared not without your consent.”

Aragorn nodded and he moved away toward the window. As much as he would enjoy seeing his brothers again, he dreaded the events that would unfold when they were informed. Would they risk all or would they decline? Either way his son’s life stood on the edge of a knife. He groaned; a massive headache was spreading all over his skull.

When a knock sounded on the door, Aragorn and Arwen turned around. It was Master Tarostar; they had totally forgotten about the healer. After calling out an invitation to enter, Aragorn steeled himself to tell the palace healer how they intended to proceed.

…………………………………………..

Elladan swallowed the last piece of his dried meat and blinked into the descending sun. He could already see the outline of the great city. His brother was just coming over to him, their horses trailing behind him.

“Rise brother, I want to cross the plains before nightfall,” Elrohir called cheerfully while slinging his bags over his mare’s back.

Elladan sighed. As much as he looked forward to seeing his sister and Aragorn again, there was a slight feeling of dread that had been plaguing him for the past two days. He had a bad feeling about what was awaiting them at the city. Unwillingly he shook his head. They would surprise their little brother and would finally greet their nephew for the first time. Aragorn had lavished them with pictures drawn by Arwen and uncounted reports about his offspring. The brothers had often laughed aloud at the antics Aragorn described. Eldarion was a real son of Estel it seemed.

Just as Elladan wanted to mount his horse, he heard the high-itched cry of a peregrine falcon. He squinted his eyes at the horizon and saw a black point quickly coming closer. Elrohir had also sighted the bird and was following its flight. Elladan was sure that the bird was seeking them out, but why he assumed this he could not say.

As expected, the bird landed gracefully at the clearing looking at them with his piercing black eyes. Elrohir raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of their father and walked slowly toward the bird. He spoke soothing words and when he had nearly reached the bird he extended his arm. To Elladan´s surprise, the falcon hopped onto the outstretched limb without hesitation.

Elladan blinked. This could be no wild beast. Even if the elves had a high affinity with the animals, a wild bird remained a wild bird. Only a few elves had the ability to call to the birds and interact with them.

When Elladan looked closer, he could see a golden ring around the falcon´s left leg with a tiny roll of parchment attached to it. It came from the palace then, he assumed. Instantly his bad feeling returned. What message was important enough to deliver it such a way? There were only a few people knowing that they even were coming to the city.

Elladan blew out his breath while he carefully neared his kneeling brother. Elrohir was gently caressing the bird’s head with his finger to calm it down. The falcon was twisting and turning on his arm not confident enough to settle down.

When the bird had finally stilled Elrohir extended his arm toward his brother and Elladan carefully loosened the ring holding the little scroll around the bird’s leg. As soon as the ring was detached the bird flew up and vanished into the sky.

Elladan looked at his brother before he carefully rolled up the tiny parchment. He instantly recognized the flowing handwriting of Arwen.

“Elladan, Elrohir. I hope you are already near the city. As much as I desire to see you two soon, my heart is troubled. I must ask you to speed up your arrival. Eldarion had a bad accident and was severely wounded with the result that he now lies dying. Only a very dangerous and risky surgery can possibly rescue him but no one here is either willing or able to do it, not even Estel. I hope you two will consider what must be done and find a way to help our son, Arwen.”

Elladan swallowed after he had finished reading aloud. He looked worriedly at his brother and blew out his breath in a hard sigh. What could have possibly happened to their little nephew that not even the renowned healers of Minas Titrth were able to help him?

Also, he could not forget their brother. Aragorn was also an accomplished healer, and no human this side of the sea could match his healing abilities. Even he was unable to rescue his son?

Shaking his head Elladan mounted his horse.

“Let us hurry brother, our time is running short.”

Before the older twin could nudge his horse forward, Elrohir placed a restraining hand on his brother’s knee.

“Elladan wait. What if we are not able to help? What if we arrive too late?”

Elladan looked at the silvery town at the horizon, glowing in the moonlight.

“We will not get this answered by staying here, right?” he answered while manoeuvring his horse around his brother.

Elrohir swore under his breath as his brother began a fast walk away from their campsite. The joy and anticipation in seeing Arwen and Estel again after so many years had vanished, replaced by deep worry and fear.

…………………………………………..

Aragorn gently caressed his son’s cheek. Eldarion had finally slipped into a deep coma. Aragorn knew that without relieving the pressure on the child's brain, he would die within days. He grimaced as he thought about the necessary surgery. Even if it was successful, which he greatly doubted, Eldarion would presumably never be the same as before. The healer feared permanent damage had already been done.

Then he directed his thoughts toward his arriving brothers. Would they perform the difficult operation or would they decline, citing too great a risk? Would they be angry about being put into such a situation or having to make such a decision?

Aragorn had sent his wife home. Arwen had been totally exhausted. Even with the stamina of an elf she was near a breakdown after having sat with their son for nearly three days and nights without rest.

Arwen also dreaded the reunion with her brothers. As much as she wanted their quick arrival she feared how they would judge the situation. Her initial confidence had greatly suffered over the last hours.

She had finally agreed to leave her son’s bedside, no longer able to watch him suffer. Even if Eldarion was comatose, his deteriorating condition was clear to see and Arwen also felt her son’s declining health on a more emotional level.

As much as Aragorn was feeling for his son, he could never reach the same emotional connection as elves shared with their children.

Suddenly overwhelmed Aragorn let his tears run free. The boy was his joy and living proof of his love for Arwen. Never had he been trouble. He was an easy-going, lively youngster, anxious to please and the joy of his family and friends. Aragorn had been proud and had made sure that Eldarion received as much love as he could give him, the same way he had received love from Elrond and his own mother throughout his own childhood.

He could not bring himself to believe that this bright spirit should be lost forever. Right now he would grasp at any straw and even consider attempting the surgery himself if only his son could be rescued. But now he also wished for the quick arrival of his brothers. He hoped for their advice, experience and support.

Somehow he hoped that they would take the heavy decision from his shoulders and state whether the operation could be performed or not. How could he decide that? His son would die if he did nothing but he could also die even if the difficult procedure was performed.

He slowly rose and walked toward the window, not really looking out. His surroundings had suddenly lost all colour to his eyes. All seemed grey and shapeless.

He did not know how long he had stood there when he suddenly he felt a presence at his back and whirled around. How could he not have noticed someone approaching?

Faramir placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Do not despair, my friend. Your brothers have arrived. They are already on their way up to the fifth level. I hope that they can help your son.”

Aragorn nodded in gratitude. The few sincerely spoken words meant much to him. Faramir was as dear to him as a family member.

“Thank you, Faramir,” Aragorn replied brushing the last tears from his face. If Faramir had seen, he wouldn’t comment on them.

Aragorn straightened his back. He would not let his brothers see his desolate state even if he knew at the same time that his pretence would not work.

To be continued………………….