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With the morning came partings and well wishes. Again Artanal declared that he would endeavor to accompany Valcirion when he set out for Rivendell. Also Gilbarad vowed to visit if and when he could -- yet Gilraen doubted the opportunity would present itself, for he had a young daughter with his wife carrying their second child, and once the ranks officially shifted in the wake of Arathorn's death, likely Gilbarad would be promoted to captain.

The Rangers departed under first light after partaking of a simple meal. Aragorn watched and waved as they rode off, blending amid the treeshade not to emerge in sight again. He clapped, mistaking it for a familiar game. "See you, see you!" That meant the hiding party should reappear, laughing and happy to teach him their trick.

"No, Aragorn. Say goodbye, remember? We said goodbye. They are gone."

His look froze her heart, as one who first comprehends dire consequences of an act taken lightly. It could not be that he remembered in that moment saying goodbye to his father who returned not, that he now understood why. She rubbed her eyes that surely deceived.

Aragorn had turned away. He waved once more. "See you."

"Yes, later. We'll see them later." What was one possible lie for his own good.

Gilraen carried him back to what remained of their camp. The brethren had wasted no time readying their departure while she went off conducting farewells. Loading Palaber was all that remained to do, and the twins worked one on each flank. She waited aside with Aragorn, and eyed the Bruinen.

'Fleet today
Deep today
Bruinen stay asleep today
Got away
Rot away
Bruinen washes aught away'

Morbid thing: children sang it in the Angle.

Soon Elrohir approached her son where he overturned stones to see what crawled beneath. "Hullo, Aragorn, what have you found there?" Gilraen came to them even as Elladan approached his brother from behind –- the bandage and slight limp assured her she did not have them confused.

"Ai, that is a treasure!" said Elrohir, seeing what Aragorn discovered.

Aragorn turned to his mother, holding aloft a creature of more legs than aught else, and none too still. "Mine," he said, mouth agape in wonder as he ogled the wriggling insect. Wincing, Gilraen sought for some way to part her son from the thing peacefully, lest she be forced to ride with it.

Elrohir knelt. "But you would not keep him from his family, would you?" He pointed from the rocks to the Bruinen. "This side of the river is his home, and while we may cross the water safely, he cannot swim! If we carry him over, he shall never return." Aragorn began admiring his pet again, until Elrohir added, "I fear he would miss his mother dearly."

Aragorn squatted, letting the bug crawl from his hand. He waved to it and stood. A subtle shift brought him closer to Elrohir, then looking bashful, he spread his arms. With a smile, Elrohir reciprocated, standing again with the boy in arm.

Glancing sidelong, Gilraen saw that Elladan watched his brother as if to catch his eye. When his gaze met hers instead, it did not last. "Come, lady, the morning presses on, and so should we."

"Then the Ford is safe to cross?" Stopped beside Malfrey, Elladan merely raised an eyebrow, yet the temperature of her face went up with it. "Well-- it is only that old wives tales among my people tell of the Bruinen and its unpredictable fury."

Come up behind her, Elrohir replied, "The river of this valley is under the power of Elrond Halfelven, lady. Seldom does it spirit aught away on accident -- or without ceremony." If he jested in part or whole, she could not tell.

Whatever the case may be, Elladan seemed unamused. "Have no fear, for we are expected, and-- there is no proper word for it in the Common Speech, but we are goodhearted also."

Gilraen accepted his hand and mounted. Once settled, Elrohir lifted Aragorn to sit before her. "Hup! Hup!" Her son bounced. Gilraen's attention fell elsewhere. She watched, perplexed, when Elladan gripped his brother's arm as he tried to walk passed. They exchanged hard looks but no words, and parted as soon. Both mounted at once.

"Hup! Hup!"

All fell into line, Elladan at the lead and Elrohir leading Palaber in the rear.

Elladan brought his steed to halt at the bank. He tipped his chin as if smelling the air, held a moment, and then pressed onward, his horse unbothered by the current. Over Aragorn's squeals of delight and the splashing of water rang Elrohir's laughter, light as falling snow.

***

At a time in the late morning, Elladan halted his steed and peered around. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. He dismounted.

Gilraen dared not make a sound, not even to breathe. What, what, what!

Behind her, Elrohir yawned. "Glorfindel?"

"Ronduir, I think."

Gilraen sighed. When a Ranger suspected trouble, it did not look the same as wondering which friendly presence he sensed. The manner of these two made it impossible to tell the difference.

Come beside her, Elladan gestured to the surrounding woods. "You could say Rivendell has Rangers of its own, lady." He helped lower Aragorn to the ground, and she dismounted. "I go now to speak with a warden of the valley. You may rest here a while."

In an instant he was lost to sight among the trees. Gilraen moved quickly to keep Aragorn from racing along after him. "No chase, Aragorn, we're not playing now!" He fussed, clearly appalled at her meddling, until Elrohir offered him an apple –- which, according to the accompanying tale, was enchanted. Then Aragorn skipped about as he ate his supposedly magic fruit, stopping to watch the occasional squirrel scamper by.

Gilraen noticed Elrohir by the side of the path. His gaze reached far into the forest. She tried to keep her voice even and asked, "Is there aught amiss?"

He looked sidelong at her, then bowed his head. "Here we are safe, have no fear. Rivendell is well guarded."

Remembering Artanal's advice, she decided to pursue a conversation with this Elf-man; he seemed more at ease here than the days before. "What can you tell me of Rivendell, lord? I have only known a casual way of living. Life at court is a thing of history among my folk."

"Court! Nay, nay." Elrohir waved a hand dismissively. "The Lord of Rivendell does not necessitate such formalities in his home, and neither does his son. Call me Elrohir, please." His tone lightened, "Or call me Elladan, and you will be nearly correct."

Having made that mistake already, Gilraen felt her cheeks flush. "I admit that your looks and garb are identical to me. I've been using the bandage above his knee to tell you apart."

Elrohir smiled at that. "Many have similar tricks, even Elves in our acquaintance. But in Rivendell we shall not be similarly clothed, and soon his wound will be healed. Look then for this instead." He pulled off his left glove and held out that hand. A bronze band shone around his thumb, engraved like a rolling wave that chases in a circle.

"That is beautiful," said Gilraen. Grown comfortable in his presence, she looked more closely upon him. Elrohir stood tall as an Elf, built sturdy as a Man, and though his bearing could be stern, his smile was sincere, surfacing more often than his brother's; but their features were exactly matched, comely as princes, wise as kings.

"Nana, look see." Aragorn presented a large beetle he had caught. Gilraen endeavored to conceal her grimace while Elrohir knelt down, interested.

"Ah, here is a very busy fellow this time of year." He went on to explain the characteristics of that particular species. Once the tale was told, her son ran to replace the creature upon its path, searching anon for something else. That Elrohir wore the symbol of marriage made sense, since he acted as one familiar with children also.

"I can tell that my son is fond of you," said Gilraen. "He does not introduce his bugs to just anyone."

Elrohir nodded. "Then I am honored."

She ventured further, "May I ask, lord, do you have children of your own?"

"Elrohir. And... no." Meeting her gaze, he seemed about to continue until distracted by his brother's return.

"Well met! All is in order with Ronduir." Approaching the horses, Elladan moved to pick Aragorn up, who feigned compliance only to evade him and flee. He reached Elrohir breathless with laughter to have escaped 'capture'.

"Swift as a spring hare you are!" Elrohir laughed.

While Aragorn beamed unsuspecting, Elladan lifted and sat him upon Malfrey nonetheless, and remained there with hand extended for Gilraen. "Let us ride on. We can water our horses from the Silverstream."

While she mounted, she thought she heard Elrohir grunt from behind. "That brings us the long way."

Elladan gave him a look that Gilraen pretended not to see. "The Silverstream?"

"A brook that flows over white stones; it shimmers as steel under the light of stars or sun. We will find it crossing a small glade, an hour from here."

"So there are other ways than this?"

"Aye, many. They are more direct, but more difficult to tread. We have already passed three crossroads, though perhaps your eyes cannot see them." Elladan seemed to check himself, and added graciously, "That is, you do not know what to look for."

"I don't." Once, she and Arathorn had ridden to the Last Bridge together. Effortlessly by day, he found trails both safe and scenic where Gilraen saw only brush and bracken. Skillfully each night, he made a new map upon her body while Gilraen saw only stars and their reflection in his eyes. How right she had been, saying all those times that she would never tire of the feel of him -- she would never have the chance.

"Gilraen."

She jumped in her saddle. Elladan stood beside the horse, his expression as close to concerned as she had yet beheld in him. What must be the Silverstream stretched before her. "Thank you," she said stupidly, and rubbed her face. "I-- dozed, in thought, I was just thinking. Thank you." His face gone blank again --though that eyebrow did twitch-- he helped Aragorn to the ground.

She got to her own feet and stretched her legs. They were amid an oblong glade rimmed with trees; patches of evergreen and jade colored the forest of otherwise bare monotone limbs. Spring would come early this year, at least for Rivendell. The air smelled sweet with the scent of new growth; when the breeze turned, it carried hickory of smoking meat. An echo of singing arose, mingled with the trickle of the Silverstream.

Realizing they wandered, she gathered her son to her and returned to the brook. There Elrohir and Elladan stood between the drinking horses.

"I disagreed with thy method, never with thy objective."

"Then thou could hast said--"

"I could not have known that Ronduir--" Simultaneously, their faces turned her way, where she had stopped to consider coming back later. Elladan turned away and busied himself with his steed. He switched to the Common Tongue, but continued in a quiet tone, "You got your way. What else is there?"

"Oh, never mind." Elrohir turned likewise. Gilraen did her best to find no humor in the picture they made: back to back, each wearing the other's annoyed visage.

Soon they were riding again, through a portion of trail open to the sun and wide enough for two abreast. The changing scenery throughout the last half of their journey had succeeded to captivate Gilraen. For a few blissful hours, she thought of nothing particularly significant, sometimes nothing at all -- and Arathorn only once, remembering that he had lived here himself upon a time.

The most exciting event of the entire journey had consisted of a fallen tree that crossed the road not far from the Silverstream. "Again, again!" Aragorn had cried after Malfrey cleared the jump. Once was enough for Gilraen.

Now Elladan slowed until their horses walked side by side. "Not much longer now, lady," he said. Before she could reply, he made a motion with his hand, and Malfrey slowed yet further. His voice lowered, "He should have done it on foot. I knew the jolt would be too much."

At a flinch of his eyes, she looked backwards. Lagged far behind, Elrohir walked beside his steed, Palaber following. Even at such distance, she could see the awkward stiffness of his posture, and the grimace he wore.

"What happened?"

Elladan opened and closed his mouth. "His back is injured. Elrond will care for him."

"Oh, I am sorry!" She glanced behind again. "Now dearly do I rue the times I could have labored in his place. If only I had known. He kept lifting my son right before me."

"Before me also, as you saw. But no matter," said Elladan. "Among the Rangers, Elves are said to be stubborn; I fear Elrohir inherited more than his half-measure, and good advice avails him not."

Soon the path grew narrower. Elladan returned to the front of their procession. Elrohir had mounted again, and with quickened pace they followed the trail around a bending slope that continued even as it seemed to turn around, and came fully upon vale of the Last Homely House. Though facing it directly, Gilraen would not call it much less hidden; straight looks brought into focus the trees among which the house was built, yet looking away, the architecture became more visible.

"Is there some enchantment at work?" she heard herself say.

"Why do you ask, lady?"

Sun glared in her eyes through a mist wafting from falling water; the combination cast illusions of light that distorted her vision. "Perhaps it is-- my eyesight."

Elladan shrugged. "Perhaps. Though once we are closer, things should be clearer to you."

Laughing to himself, Elrohir overtook them both at a trot, Palaber following behind his steed, both becoming lost amid what she could and could not see. Blinking, Gilraen realized that the path had given way to a flat field of tall grasses, beyond which a courtyard crested by stone pillars or tree trunks, and a path curved at the top... or is it a hallway of windows?

They rode through and under and among everything that Gilraen could not decide what to make of. Though their horses halted, hoofbeats echoed still. Her wandering and wondering gaze settled before her. There was a tiered fountain carved of pale stone, and next to it, an Elf upon a white horse. Tall and straight he sat, and about his shoulders fell golden hair such as Gilraen had never before seen. So inconspicuously flawless, his form, that until he moved, she had mistaken him for part of the chiseled stonework itself.

"Greetings, Glorfindel," said Elladan. The Elf called Glorfindel looked upon Gilraen; she had never beheld eyes more open, more clear, than his. Elladan continued, "Here is Gilraen wife of Arathorn, and Aragorn their son."

The Elf flashed his glance fondly at Elladan. "I know." Back to Gilraen, and he smiled, both sad and hopeful and it too shining bright like gold, like youth. "We know. We have been expecting you, and we welcome you, you and your son." He placed hand upon breast and bowed at the waist. When he arose it seemed that the sun climbed a little higher. "Welcome to Rivendell."

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