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Gilraen was getting dressed when she heard a thump and Aragorn squeal.

"Nanaaa!"

He must be trying to get at the door again, despite that footstool she kept in front of it to deter him. "Wait, Aragorn, I'll make it better-- where are you?" Half-dressed, she ran to see the damage.

The footstool was on its side and the door wide open. Aragorn danced on the threshold with a carved wooden device clutched to his chest. Gilraen laughed. "Another gift for you, Aragorn, another? We shall need a bigger toy chest soon!"

A bow of ribbon was tied at the top; this Aragorn urged her to remove, for 'no no no' and 'tsk tsk tsk' it simply did not belong. That remedied, Gilraen watched to see what he would do with it. Children have a way of finding simplicity in the most complicated things. He only beamed admiringly. Its function remained a mystery to her also.

Aragorn insisted on bringing his present along when they proceeded to the banquet hall where the morning fare would be set out. The sons of Elrond sat at one table, and Aragorn raced to join them.

"Hullo, Aragorn!" one called, then greeted Gilraen while his brother bowed head and raised glass. Both stood when Gilraen came to the table after fixing a plate for her son.

While Aragorn was busy displaying and explaining his new plaything --with more hand movements than words, and the language mixed Sindarin and Westron-- Gilraen determined which twin wore the bronze ring. Aragorn had sat himself next to Elrohir, then, who listened with apparent understanding to his garbled speech and unspoken meaning.

Finally, she persuaded him to put his gift aside and feed himself. "When he is very excited he forgets his words," Gilraen felt compelled to say. Elves taking her for unlearned she could tolerate, but Aragorn knew his letters better than he let on.

"Not many that I missed," said Elrohir, and regarding her son, "but you are a clever lad for knowing a second language so young, hmm?"

"Oh, that was his own doing," said Gilraen, glad for the conversation. "We taught him Westron for his first year, but he loves songs of lore, elvish ones being his favorite. So we taught him some Sindarin words to use, and he kept gathering more and more from daily talk." She added, "He will need little tutorage from me, I think, after a while in this place." Neither twin flinched. "Though I had looked forward to teaching him, since he delights in it." Well, if they still reverted to their native tongue for privacy in her presence --if they ever had-- any future embarrassment would be their own fault.

Elladan stirred at last. "Be sure of that, lady, before you let Elrond hear it!"

His brother slapped palm to table. "Ha! Truly, else father will have him learning Quenya next."

"Then Nandorin, Andûnaic--"

"And then Aragorn will have a holiday from his lessons to celebrate his third begetting day!" Elrohir had his father's laugh, and filled the hall with it.

"Beget--? Aragorn, eat please." He wrinkled his nose and it took a Look from her before he released his toy to obey.

Composed, Elrohir said, "Well do I remember that advice from my own mother."

"It was elective?" murmured Elladan.

"She must have been diligent," Gilraen said smiling, "for you two are grown tall and strong from those uninterrupted meals."

In play, Elrohir made a fist to tense his arm. The resulting bulge seemed satisfactory. "Once again, mother knows best." Aragorn was familiar with this custom of flexing one's muscles, and he strained his own biceps for show, growling with teeth bared as his relatives would do. "Ho!" Elrohir put up his hands, "And here sits a mighty babe in his own right. Peace to you, young master."

"Greetings, mother and son." Aragorn made a podium of his seat and started again with the toy for Elrond's benefit. That concluded, he said, "Does the morning meet you well, Gilraen?"

She carefully did not glance at the contents of her own plate, mostly untouched. "So well that I could desire nothing more."

He gestured to her son. "And, have you and your child plans for this day?"

Here she brightened, guessing that at last Elrond would talk with her of such matters that had been left unaddressed. "Not as you would regard it, I think. These past days I have wandered your fine home, lord, making it my hobby to learn the schedule of the household's staff. Yet I think I would not be missed."

"Then walk with me! And if you wish, questions you have yet held in silence will be answered." Gilraen gathered Aragorn to her and they headed out. Elrond paused briefly by his sons. "Be mindful," he said, and both nodded.

Afterwards, they walked at leisure. Singing and happy, Aragorn skipped ahead and about with toy in hand, until at one point he quieted and went still, his face intent but looking at something Gilraen could not see. At her question, he ran back to fetch her.

"What, Aragorn, what is it?" By the wrist, he led her to a vantage off the path where a portion of the road was visible in the distance below. Aragorn pointed, and as if not knowing what else to do with that hand, waved. "See you."

"Later, Aragorn, maybe later we'll go that way to see." Elrond joined them. "He's been doing this since we left home," said Gilraen. "I don't-- that is, I know why. It's just I know not what to do, or say."

Elrond knelt, and said nothing; but Aragorn took his gaze off the empty road, and after consideration, took Elrond's empty hand instead. Soon Aragorn resumed his role as minstrel as they walked, then as bug hunter.

"Your patience in these past weeks has been greatly appreciated," said Elrond. "I apologize for my absence during much of that time."

Taken aback, Gilraen exclaimed, "Weeks!" The passing of time had failed to occur to her.

With a sidelong glance he smiled, appearing very much like each of his sons in that moment, politic and playful. "Aye, threefold." He went on unexpectedly, "How much is recorded and taught among your folk concerning the former Chieftains of the Dúnedain?"

Twice baffled, Gilraen began cursorily, pressed for more, else, other, and details besides. The conversation resembled a history lesson before the end, at which time Elrond sighed, and fell pensive. They were now amid a garden with stone benches and statues; a place of quiet reflection, it seemed.

Aragorn found a bench good to play on, and Gilraen watched him at his game, trying to keep unobtrusive until Elrond came around. From a distance, strange sounds echoed like a beating of wood against wood, and occasionally a voice arose. Wondering if Elrond would comment upon these noises, she turned. It appeared he already waited for her attention.

"Well," he said, and clapped his hands once, "now you shall have a pleasant surprise, I think. Come, it is but a short way." He began to walk at once.

Gathering Aragorn, she followed. Elrond stood beside a trellis and gestured farther, but gave no indication that he would lead or follow. Gilraen passed him to see around the lattice... "Artanal!"

Artanal straightened from his examination of a sundial. "Well, what timing! I just arrived myself." They joined to embrace, Aragorn giving muffled protests from his smothered position between them. "Good to see you, cousin. And you lad!" He ruffled Aragorn's hair, eliciting a squeal from him. "Have you grown already? Let me see-- ah, maybe I could tell by feeling your bones, yes?" He took him in arm to spare Gilraen his kicking feet, and tickled him. She laughed along with them, despite a pang of guilt. Aragorn had not laughed like that since coming here.

Beyond Artanal, she saw that Valcirion approached. Gilraen had not seen the grizzled commander since Aragorn was newly born. The years had not changed him: he trod unforgiving on a permanent limp, and looked out at the world under a brow that held ransom the old strength his hands remembered from youth. If still fierce with a blade, he was doubly sharp of mind. For few others than Dírhael's daughter, Valcirion always spared half a smile that reached up with crow's feet to pull shut one eye.

"Hail Gilraen! You are looking young, my dear."

He had said so since her girlhood. "Valcirion, well met. I am glad you came."

He looked closely upon her, then Aragorn, and parted with the other half of his smile. "I see your son is growing well. It has been long since our last meeting. Too long, but nothing for it now. Pardon my lateness getting here," he motioned whence he came, "some Elves caught me. Were you waiting?"

"Oh, I've not been marking the time anyway." Gilraen glanced at the sundial. Noon already. "But when did you arrive?"

"Yestereve, shortly after dusk."

Artanal asked the question the answer to which Valcirion commenced staring out of Gilraen. "Have you been unwell? They told us you had retired early, and we were-- encouraged not to disturb you."

"Elves are poor judges of such matters. Aragorn had been restless the night before. We were both tired, that's all." Not untrue, any of it. She lifted her chin.

Artanal visibly relaxed. Valcirion said, "It was no Elf, but the Halfelven himself."

"Nevertheless, I am quite fine. Now tell me how the Angle fares!"

They spoke then of many things. Valcirion explained how the ranks were newly organized, and elaborated on how those promoted were adjusting to the new order of command. It all sounded well in order to Gilraen, but Valcirion sniffed. "It is early yet. They'll learn." Artanal had a more cheerful tale: Gilbarad's second child had been born healthy and the mother endured without complications.

"A boy pleased both parents greatly, but I think little Ambeth could have been happier." Artanal grinned. "A baby sister she had in mind, so I heard, and one who cries less during the night and gets less of mother's attention by day."

Gilraen smiled, imagining the young girl's nose wrinkled in disapproval. "What is the boy's name?"

"Halbarad."

Halbarad. The playmate Aragorn would have grown up with. Something else caught her attention, and she welcomed the distraction. "Since we spoke of noise..."

"Have you not seen before? They're sparring in the field below with sticks for weapons." Valcirion moved to a short stone wall nearby. "Fascinating to watch, if a strange practice." He beckoned for her to look, and Artanal shifted that direction, but he still held Aragorn. Gilraen moved quick to halt him.

"No, no! If someone sees such a thing, someone will demand a closer view, and then someone will be in no mood for his midday n-a-p."

Laughing Artanal nodded, and set Aragorn down. With his sight blocked by the stone, Gilraen walked forward and looked beyond. "Elrond's sons," said Artanal admiringly, then he sighed. "Well, if I had forever I might develop such prowess."

Valcirion added dryly, "Expert or not, I would keep my shirt on."

"The cane bites bare flesh harder than linen. You will see them need little reminding." Elrond was smiling down at Aragorn as all turned to him startled: his approach had been utterly silent.

"Surprise indeed, Master Elrond, and certainly a pleasant one!" Gilraen came away from the wall. "Had you arranged for us all to meet here in secret?"

"That depends on whether or not your kinsmen guessed my intentions." Looking up from her son, his smile remained. "I see that Aragorn has forgotten his puzzle box. Might I accompany him to fetch it?"

Gilraen guessed he was offering privacy to his guests. "With my thanks. But should he ask for me--" He nodded, no doubt as used to children as their vigilant mothers. Nonetheless, Gilraen watched as he guided Aragorn back towards the garden.

"I meant to ask how you've been faring in this dwelling," said Valcirion, "and with its residents. You know, I'd have kept Artanal along, at least."

"In truth, maybe I should have," she said. "It's been weeks now, and I still wonder which is stranger, the place or the people. But we've fared well enough, and better with time. Even the least sociable Elves are courteous, while most relish company. And Aragorn-- well, he knows. Not what, I think, but he knows something. There are days I struggle to get a smile out of him, and days when he acts as though nothing were amiss. Roads stop him in his tracks, he wants the door open all the time, and there's this way he looks at people, face first, as though--" the men were staring at her. She smoothed down her skirt, and hoped, her expression along with it.

"Go on."

"He likes our things to stay packed too. That’s all." She gestured to Elrond's sons, and could summon a smile. "Ah! Then there are the twins. Aragorn has taken a liking to Elrohir in particular, I think to the delight of them both. Elladan is quieter, but I can tell he has genuine interest in his brother's affairs. Though they have their own concerns for certain, it's my hope that Aragorn might come to look to them as--" Valcirion was frowning and tense in the shoulders; beside him, Artanal chewed on his beard. "What is it?"

The older man shifted. "Elrond's sons intend to depart no later than Artanal and I do. They ride again to the north, so they said."

"To the north." How could he bear the thought, if Elrond knew his sons would likely pass Arathorn's grave on their errand. She reached for her shall that she had not donned, instead crossing her arms against a chill. "I see. Well, that is a shame."

Valcirion continued, "But I know naught of their plans in detail. Mayhap they intend to return soon."

"In any event, you will be seeing more of us mortals from the Angle," said Artanal, and waited. "That is, scheduled trading shall be reinitiated."

Gilraen had not moved, trying her hardest not to feel upset as she watched the twins, knowing now that they did not care to stay. Aragorn would learn to be fond of no one.

Louder, Valcirion said, "Elrond taught us a lesson, you could say. A strange feeling to have my own peoples' history clarified for me, by one with a face younger-looking than my own, no less. But I am glad and fortunate to learn from the wise. Did you hear, Gilraen-- about Aravorn?"

She stirred. Aravorn whom Elrond had reared from childhood, and Aravorn's son whom Elrond was too politic to name arrogant. "Yes, he told me, just this morning."

"Well, I too was aware of those tales in large part, and knew of Arassuil's effort to reestablish closer relations twixt—-" Valcirion went on at length about former Chieftains and their trials and endeavors and untimely ends.

Reminded of her son, Gilraen only grew restless. When it seemed Valcirion would never cease, she cut in, "One disgruntled Chieftain's son who tried things differently in his day than his father and failed, and too few of our people over too many leagues and maybe some less good-intentioned than others making rumors out of history. And Elves here who could have been more diligent with minding how things were changing as time passed beyond." She tried to ease his surprised look with a smile. "Have I left aught out?"

"Only the part where you became so inclined to this sort of thing. Here I thought I was boring you."

To keep from laughing, Gilraen said, "Actually, I left this out: that I sense something unsaid regarding the lifelong closeness of Aravorn here, yet that his own son grew estranged. Master Elrond had plenty else to discuss with me though. I did not press him on that one thing."

Valcirion nodded slowly. "Maybe you will have the chance later. For now, if you both would excuse me, I'm supposed to meet that Elf, the outspoken one-- Telmoth, about some arrangements. I understand she prepares these things in Elrond's stead."

Finally, Gilraen was on her way back to her son. Artanal came along.

"He was pleasantly surprised that we looked to him for promotion," said Artanal, "and has not stopped preening since."

"Mmm. I would say he's earned it."

"So do we, so do we. What's on your mind?"

Gilraen stopped and sighed. It took conscious effort not to look back to where the twins sparred beyond. "That I cannot read the hearts of these people, and I tire of guessing wrong. I hope Valcirion knows what he does."

"Of course! Else we will retire him. Beregost was second choice, you know. But I only jest." Artanal looked intently upon her, a few more lines around his eyes than she remembered. "Is there something else?"

"No. Let's go."

They came into the garden then. Across the way, Elrond sat beside Aragorn on a bench. From behind, the clacking of wood against wood echoed again. Quietly, Artanal said, "I'm sorry you were disappointed to hear of their plans. Valcirion and I hadn't imagined Aragorn was grown fond of them." He shifted, jerked his head. "Maybe there are others he might look to?"

Once seeing Aragorn content, Gilraen let her attention wander. Somewhere here, she had come upon a room rowed with looms before windows side by side overlooking a field without sheep. For some reason, or none, it reminded her of newborn Halbarad with no playmate; of her old home that Artanal would soon take up with his new bride, but no children. "Can there be no reconciliation?"

Artanal made a sound. "Are you even looking?"

She did now. Aragorn was watching intensely as Elrond twisted the wooden toy a certain way, until the device came apart in two pieces. Her son gasped, and Elrond laughed as the boy grabbed both pieces for careful examination. At a loss, Aragorn offered them back, eyes pleading that the problem be solved. Elrond took the puzzle, and slowly slid the halves together.

A determined look on his small face, Aragorn seized the box. After a moment of fierce struggling, Elrond laid hands over his to guide their movements. The puzzle slid apart. With kicking feet, Aragorn bounced as they assembled the puzzled once more. Laughing, he forsook his place on the bench for a seat on Elrond's lap. "See you!"

"That's what I meant." He nudged her. "What do you think?"

"My son-- has a way with words, doesn't he."

"Right. Well come on then. I want to see if I can have one of those made for Ambeth to cheer her up."

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