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"What's this?" Estel wanted to know, for the twelfth time.

"That is a marking to tell when enough of something has been stacked."

"Why?"

The Elf replied with a smile, "Because most of the Elves here care not to do more work than they must. When someone is expected to 'stack to the mark', the mark is where they stop-- usually. Some are lazier than others, especially..."

When her son was a little older, Gilraen would have to warn Telmoth about naming names. Meanwhile, she noted relieved that the Elf reserved more tolerance for curious children than ignorant woman. All morning her son had been full of questions and playfulness; Telmoth ever responded with none of the impatience Gilraen strove to evade.

By this time, Estel had lost interest in Telmoth's gossip, occupied instead by hopping on and off a small box. Looking satisfied, the Elf turned back to her apprentice. Gilraen said, "I must thank you again. I'm afraid our progress has been slow these last few days." At Telmoth's raised eyes she amended, "Slower than usual."

The Elf laughed. "Never mind! You learn fast enough, and your son is a delight. Doubtless Master Elrond misses his young charge, but I am glad for my fortune in this." Her following explanations concerning seasonal reorganization were dull enough to let Gilraen's thoughts wander.

Since his sons' return last week, she had not seen the Master of the House. Lindir came the morning after the twins' arrival to tell Gilraen what she already knew: that Elrond would be required elsewhere. "But," the Elf had said, "you are welcome to bring Estel to the stables instead, for there are new horses he can meet!" At her suggestion, Lindir agreed to return only if the message changed. Her door had remained silent ever since.

When the noonbell rang, Telmoth called the day's work concluded, and gathering Estel from his hiding place, they proceeded to the dining hall for the midday meal. On the way, Gilraen remarked, "It has been quiet of late." Crowds rarely gathered save for significant events, but even mealtimes had been sparsely attended.

Telmoth sounded unhappy to reply, "Riders have been sent out on errands, sentries doubled, the furthest outposts staffed; such is common for this time of year."

Gilraen checked that her son paid no heed. "Then there is trouble?"

"There always is, somewhere." Telmoth made a gesture beyond the valley before her hand fell to her side in a fist. "And sometimes we must make trouble of our own." Softer she added, "But I need not tell you that. Come."

The mood was subdued in the dining hall, and once Gilraen had settled beside her son, she guessed why. Elladan sat nearby, unspeaking and unsmiling; those closest to him Gilraen recognized as elders, not easily perturbed. Despite his grim appearance, she would have greeted him, yet the instant before she spoke his eyes focused upon her with unexpected harshness. Immediately his gaze dropped, and hers followed on impulse. The bronze ring revealed that she had put her foot in her mouth without even opening it by mistaking Elrohir for his brother.

Few spoke during their meals and all departed without delay. Elrohir remained though he now sat alone, still eating. Telmoth and a few others had kept her son entertained, or the other way around. Estel did not seem to have noticed Elrohir in particular.

"So, whose pleads did you finally yield to that we are graced with your fine company?" asked Telmoth, looking up from the current game. "Or has every secluded place and each of your excuses to dwell therein been exposed as such?" Gilraen doubted her jesting was entirely in good humor.

Elrohir flashed a tight smile. "Well, as I am craven to comply and reclusive to refrain, I can hardly go wrong, or right." Sitting back, he said in an artificial sigh, "Ah, but at least my dear father is happy, and that I suppose is your answer."

The Elf had lagged in her participation; grown bored, Estel climbed into Gilraen's lap instead. Telmoth persisted. "Then how is your brother?"

As if to lighten her tone, else his cheer never ceased, Lindir inserted, "Ai, yes, he has been in all our thoughts. A curse upon orc arrows!"

"It was not the arrow but the poison that felled him."

Lindir flinched at the sharp retort. "I did not know—-"

"Then ask." Elrohir shifted as if to rise, but froze as his gaze centered. Across the table from him, Estel gave a timid wave from her lap, mouthing a word that made no sound. Sighing in earnest, Elrohir sank back down. "Hullo, Aragorn."

"Oh!" His eyes rose at her. Gilraen said, "He is called Estel now. Aren't you?" She kissed one cheek after the other, both of which her son promptly wiped.

Nodding with an apologetic smile, Elrohir seemed more himself. "Of course, I had forgotten father said so. Well, he is growing like an anthill! It has only been, what, three months since I saw you last?"

"How long will you stay away this time, I wonder," said Telmoth.

Elrohir scowled. "Enough already."

"My sentiments precisely."

"Arahad!" Estel leaned forward to have his horse prance upon the table. "He's Arahad."

Gone very still, and slightly pale, Elrohir said at length, "Is this some-- jest?"

Gilraen tickled her son's neck that he not notice this changed mood. "Not of our making," she replied, matching Elrohir's plain tone. "Maybe your brother jested when he called my son by that name last night. At least, Estel thought highly of it, for now we have Arahad the horse! Look, he runs!" Estel giggled as she bounced him upon her knees.

Before she looked up again, Elrohir had left without sound or farewell. Telmoth was shaking her head. "Never mind him. Returning after ill fortune always puts them in such bad temper."

"Mm. So long as it is not us then," said Gilraen.

"No, no." Telmoth tapped her fingers upon the table, then her knuckles. "You see, Arahad Aravorn's son, and Elladan, they were--"

"Of similar mind, and close," said Lindir, and looked pleadingly at Telmoth. "To say more, perhaps it is not our place?"

Telmoth tossed her head at him. "As close and single-minded were they, if I do say so myself, as were Elrond and Aravorn likewise. So father and son disagreed, but son outlived father, and the Dúnedain had their new Chieftain. What!"

Daring to interrupt the Elves' wordless stare in hopes that Telmoth would continue, Gilraen ventured, "How was it that they differed?"

The staring went on, but Telmoth said, "Aravorn trusted in the wisdom and foresight of Elrond Halfelven." At once, both Elves turned their faces away. Gilraen could get nothing else out of either.

***

Gilraen would never recall what had compelled her to emerge from her quarters that afternoon, leaving her son napping within. Restless, she paced the hallway before wandering further, coming eventually to a window that overlooked the courtyard below. Seeing those gathered there, any other day she would have turned away from business which was not her own; instead she descended the stairs and crossed the foyer to hear.

Straight and square-shouldered upon his horse, Elladan appeared quite hale, and impatient. "Thou dost this every time," he said to his twin.

Elrohir stood fussing with his horse's headstall. "Maybe, but for different reasons. Now I am uncertain, and not without cause. I only suggested that we reconsider." He did not name Telmoth as that cause, but Gilraen suspected.

"Well, I am steadfast! Stay or follow, brother, and either in peace, but I will not wait whilst thy heart bleeds." With nothing more he rode off, slow enough that he did not flee, fast enough that he showed no regret. Expression unreadable, Elrohir looked after him as the dust settled.

Elrond stood off to the side, eyes low. He had backed away during the conversation so as not to stand between his sons; Gilraen needed make no guesses as to his predicament. "I did not raise ye to be extensions of mine own will," he said. "Nor did I raise ye to be reflections of one another. Follow thine own heart, Elrohir. Choose not for me."

Elrohir's dropped head shook. "For all thy great wisdom, father, dost thou still not understand?" Laughing mirthlessly, he mounted his steed. "I have never chosen for thee, and neither hath he." After a pause he added, "Forgive us." Then he too was gone.

Finally Elrond looked up, facing the road still as stone. Gilraen had stood similarly times uncounted, bound by love unconditional though it break her heart to watch as friends and family ride at risk of death and worse for the sake of those who remained and those who went before them. So too she recognized the mood Elladan and Elrohir returned in, one echoing spent wrath and marred in shame; she had seen it in Arathorn each time he returned, and saw it in Gilbarad the day Arathorn returned not.

One day, she would see it in Aragorn; but not in Estel, to whom she returned now, leaving Elves and Half-elves and foresight and sorrow behind. It was not her business, in any case. So she emerged again. Checking through the window to see that Elrond remained, she descended the stairs once more, crossed the foyer, and knelt to release her charge. Standing inconspicuously beside a pillar, she watched outside, and waited.

Showing her a boyishly devious smile over his shoulder, he padded down the entryway, then scurried out to the center of the yard. For a moment he stood silent, seemingly unnoticed. Without looking back for encouragement, he reached out a small hand. His finger had barely touched the other's when Elrond looked down at him with widening eyes.

"See you!"

Elrond knelt, smiling as Estel made a nest of him. "What are you doing out here, child?" Estel freed one arm from around his neck to shrug in answer. "Your poor mother is somewhere searching for you, surely--"

Just as Elrond began to look around, Gilraen moved out of sight behind the pillar. She heard her son call for her once, then again, followed by a squeal and an excited explanation. Elrond had heard every rule of the game twice before Gilraen moved to a better hiding place, certain that she would be sought.

Gilraen would never recall what had compelled her to wake her son that afternoon, and set out with him to cheer the Lord of Rivendell. Moreover, she never wondered, and he never asked.

*******