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During the twenty and six years of her life, Gilraen had not made a habit of leaving the Angle. To leave it in this way seemed strangely appropriate: one hidden stronghold to another, as if she was never anywhere. Should I return, will Rivendell seem as an eclipse that has passed, or will the shadow lie ahead? No foresight came to her. Never when I wish it would.

They broke for camp before dusk the first night. Gilraen had expected a day of harder riding, so she marveled at how far they came nonetheless. The East Mountains looked different; by tomorrow, maybe the rocky hills of the Trollshaws would be visible in the North.

"We must be halfway to the Ford already!" she exclaimed after a good look around.

As the long-suffering parent of a careless child, Gilbarad hushed her, grinning despite himself. "Ours are not the only ears in the Wild, and we alone need know where leads our road."

Gilraen busied herself tending Aragorn and rationing meals while her heated cheeks cooled over the rebuke. Arathorn used to tease how she would never make a Ranger. "Not without tighter lips," he might say, then kiss them. Nevermore. Leaving her son content with some bread as he watched Artanal work up a fire, she came to Gilbarad where he relieved their horses.

"Let me finish this. I set supper out, go eat and rest yourself." The brethren attended their own steeds nearby; if they heard her, neither ceased. For his part, Gilbarad seemed only to move faster in response. "Uncle. Arathorn warned me also of perils upon the road. I must insist that the guardsman of his son be fit enough to withstand any threat."

He went still. At length, he rubbed his face. "I am weary. Thank you." All of them neared exhaustion, plain to see. Gilbarad walked to the fire as though through a fog; there Artanal sat hunched half-sleep over his plate while Aragorn danced circles around him. Gilraen tried not to think upon the battle that had reduced her strong men to such a state of heart and body. Even the sons of Elrond moved as though with heavy limbs. Do they too mourn?

"When you are through, my horse will lead the others to water." A twin stood alone now, the one without his thigh bandaged.

"Oh. Well thank you... Elladan?"

"Elrohir." He bowed his head at her apology. "My brother will take the first watch, so you know. No evil could evade his vigilance." Gilraen's task complete, they stepped away; true as he said, the horses fell into line and headed towards the river.

"Thank you," she said again, some of her embarrassment returning that he had heeded her concerns as expressed to Gilbarad; she would have been more tactful speaking to the sons of Elrond.

Their camp would have stayed cheerless save for Aragorn, who sang while they ate. Artanal had suggested the pastime to substitute for Aragorn's first choice: swimming -- for which he maintained 'No' it was not too cold and 'No' it was not too dark.

Some time later Gilraen woke in a start, realizing she had dozed and his little voice sang no longer. But Aragorn lay asleep beside her. Someone had covered them both with a fur. Turning, she cradled him closer. Aside the fire, Gilbarad and Artanal slept shoulder to shoulder for warmth. Opposite them, the sons of Elrond sat awake, one examining the other's leg. They conversed in Sindarin, graceful and muted as windblown leaves.

"Ai. Father might tend this with needle and thread still."

"No infection though."

"As yet. How dost thou feel?"

The other answered not, until his twin touched his brow. "No fever, either."

"Nay. Good."

"And thou?"

"Oh, I fare well enough."

"Hmph. If thou say so."

"Thou did similarly, whilst redressing me."

"Rather that I saw fair damage, the worst of which may be unseen. No matter. Sleep now, rest thyself."

Their exchange ended. Not a sound followed. Gilraen had closed her eyes, but she looked again in expectance that they stopped to listen, maybe alerted of danger. Instead, Elrohir lay prone before the fire and Elladan had already gone out of sight on watch -- or that should be right, unless she remembered incorrectly which would sleep first.

If identical twins were very common among Elves, the novelty would not prevail over her frustration.

***

They reached the Ford of Bruinen after another day without incident. Here Gilbarad and Artanel were supposed to turn back, and the sons of Elrond alone would lead Gilraen onward to Rivendell.

"Half a day from here, mayhap," Elladan answered Gilbarad, "depending on the pace we can keep tomorrow."

Having a young child along had caused unavoidable delays, more so today than the last, and they rode hard whenever possible to make up for lost time. Gilraen understood that good pacing had been the key to yesterday's progress; this daylong game of catch-up left her sore tired, and they took longer covering less ground.

It came on dusk when the party dismounted nigh to the riverbank. No sooner had Gilraen's feet touched the ground than Aragorn tugged her hand, pointing to a nearby thicket. She signaled to Artanal whither they went. At the same time, being so near fresh water tempted the horses to hurry ahead and drink their fill anon.

Artanal laughed. "Forgotten your saddles, and our baggage besides? Come back, give me something to unpack!"

Gilbarad's voice broke in suddenly, "Actually, if all are willing, I suggest we cross the Ford and ride on for a little while, until nightfall."

A son of Elrond replied, "Our passage will not go unnoticed. If we cross now only to camp in an hour, we would be expected sooner than we would arrive. I prefer that no one wonder at our belatedness, fearing us delayed by ill chance. Furthermore, here we will be just as safe, tonight."

When Gilraen reemerged, Artanal was ordering the camp while Gilbarad unburdened horses. She noticed the sons of Elrond off a little ways, speaking together. One motioned with his hands; the other had crossed arms. If they argued, their faces revealed it not, nor did their voices rise. She steered Aragorn along the water's edge.

"Because it is unnecessary. We make decent time, all considered."

An echo. Gilraen missed whatever came before.

"That hath naught to do with forewarning. I could be there little after dawn."

"Not alone, in thy state."

"Then thou go."

"Nay. We together equal one hale escort, barely."

"Which is it? Either I am incompetent or thou need mine assistance."

If aught followed, they spoke even lower, or moved away. Gilraen would rather not hear regardless. She tried to imagine a discreet way to discover if the brethren knew of her fluency in Sindarin. Knelt at the riverbank, she bathed her hands, and bade Aragorn --repeatedly-- to do the same.

"Hail cousin." Behind her came Artanal. He settled close enough to talk and not be overheard. Aragorn leapt up from where he 'fished' with a reed and welcomed the man with an enthusiastic effort to initiate wrestling games. Artanal usually played along. He smiled, but said, "Not just now, Aragorn. Sit here beside me a minute."

Gilraen saw her son's disappointment. Riding and camping brought him such joy that she thought he must suspect why everyone remained so solemn. Or not. Aragorn crept away, peeking out at them occasionally from behind a boulder.

"I've been thinking. Are you certain about all this?" Artanal was gathering a handful of smooth rocks. "The brethren are exceptional riders, and they know the way surer than any. But," here he paused, skipped a stone, "well, I know they seem strange, or I thought so myself, before knowing them better. Gilbarad and I are willing to continue even unto Elrond's house."

"Valcirion will come as emissary on behalf of the Angle whether you accompany me further or not. Better that you return home and see to things." She winced at the unhappy memory. "I mean, get the word out, wait for Valcirion. Thereafter he may follow in his own time. I'm the only one in need of haste."

Political affairs seldom concerned her in the past. Arathorn always managed such things; she handled the house and their son. Among the Rangers, Valcirion held second highest rank --now first-- making him best suited to control the Rangers' relations with Rivendell. Gilraen had one objective alone, to see to their son, all that Arathorn asked of her.

Artanal watched her silently. "Arathorn would have me on league marker detail all year if he beheld his fair wife so grim of face, with me able to track an orc through a body of shallow water, but helpless to comfort my own cousin. What are your thoughts?"

She took a stone from his collection and chucked it. One. Two. Drown. "I've never been good at this."

He sighed. "Takes practice." Just then, Aragorn ploughed into his lap, growling and tickling.

"Caught you, caught you!"

"You did, didn't you," Artanal said laughing. "Now spare me, I beg! Go and see Gilbarad a while, help him find firewood. Look, there he is. Best you run, hurry!"

Aragorn happily complied. His energy seemed as endless to Gilraen as the hours of riding had probably seemed to him. She watched to see that he struck a direct path to Gilbarad without wandering.

"He is a good lad," said Artanal. "He will grow to be a good man –- like his father." When she made no reply, he stood and pulled his hood up against the chill breeze. "Expect Valcirion by next month, I reckon. Once news reaches him at Sarn Ford, he'll head home, and not linger ere setting out for Rivendell. I shall make plans to accompany him then, if duty allows. In the meantime, we'll arrange that more of your belongings are brought to you."

"Do not let my father send that sword. I bade Luinmoth to deliver it after I left. He would not have taken it from me."

Grown tense, Artanal said, "Dírhael bestowed that sword to the Chieftain. Shouldn't--"

"For the husband of his daughter, those were his words. But Arathorn wanted him to have it back, if... if father refuses to keep it, just tell him to bestow it to someone else."

"No doubt he will do just that. Well." Artanal took a deep breath, his eyes drawn across the Ford. "It is a place like no other, Rivendell. Only once have I enjoyed the honor to visit, but once was enough to envy you the soft beds and warn halls and ample fare of the Last Homely House."

Gilraen blinked up at him. "In truth, I had not considered it." Not for herself, at least.

The hood drew further over his eyes when he shook his head. "I know." He began to walk towards camp, but paused of a sudden. Glancing over his shoulder, he gestured ahead. One twin toiled over a cooking fire; as she watched, Aragorn sidled close and got his curiosity rewarded with a snack. The other twin tended the horses, now massaging her own steed Malfrey.

Artanal said, "All our hearts are heavy, theirs too. Just as we, they are not normally so reserved; and if you can get used to the sons of Elrond, their sire will seem far less daunting. Have no fear! You take me too seriously. Elrond is a very decent ma-- ah, person. The Elves, however, are a puzzle I have yet to solve. I wish you well in that trial," his light tone deepened, "and in all else."

The Lord of Rivendell and the Elves therein were other things she had considered little. Aragorn held the greatest share of her willing thought; nothing else surpassed his father's absence. Aragorn raced now from Gilbarad to meet Artanal, who this time hefted the boy into the air. Though gregarious by nature, Aragorn nonetheless gravitated towards the care and attention of those most familiar to him. Without Artanal and Gilbarad, I will not be the only one left to the company and charity of strangers.

Clouds were coming swiftly from the south. She pulled her cloak close against the wind. Starless night would fall soon; already the sun descended below the treetops, draping their campsite in shadow. Gilraen rose from the damp and stony ground, uncertain.

*******