Hope is Born Again
Disclaimer: All references to Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. The song Hope is Born Again belongs to the Christian group "Point of Grace". I make no claims to ownership; I do this simply because I enjoy writing.
Summary: Hope is brought back into Middle-Earth, on a cold winter night at the end of the year.
Rating: PG, for some angst, as well as a little young-Estel fluff
Main Characters: Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn, Gilraen
Author's Note: I know what Tolkien says happened to Aragorn's parents; that only his father was killed and then he was brought to Rivendell by his mother. However, I do not scribe to that belief. You'll see what my own beliefs are as you read this story. Please do not flame me for not following canon on this matter.
I also chose to use a Christmas song for this story, so forgive any references to our holiday of Christmas. The story takes place near mid-Winter, so if you would like to assume that that is what I mean when Christmas is mentioned, that is perfectly all right.
Rivendell, December 20th, 2933 of the Third Age
Winter...one of the most beautiful and picture-perfect times of the year. A time when everything looks refreshed and peaceful, and the world is awash in the pure white snow. And yet, winter is also a time of danger, a time when it is easy to get lost in the whiteness that covers the land, especially in the mountains.
In a quiet secluded valley that was nestled at the base of the Misty Mountains, lights could be seen coming from the home of Elrond Peredhel, Lord of the Elven city of Rivendell.
It was nearly Mid-Winter's Eve, a time for family and fellowship. One of the traditions of the elves in Elrond's home was to sit around the fire in the night and simply talk and enjoy each others company around hot drinks.
Lord Elrond stood at one of the windows of his home, staring out at the grounds. A gentle snowfall earlier had blanketed the world in white powder that was clear and crisp. A gentle wind blew through the open window, teasing the tall elf's dark locks of hair.
Elrond sighed. He enjoyed this time of the year, when his family was all together and celebrating the year's end. Last week the twins had gone out and gathered fresh pine branches and holly to decorate the house. The scent of pine filled the air, mixing with the smells of warm cookies and treats that were being created by the cooks, plus the scents of roasting meat and the warm and savory stews that everyone enjoyed on especially chilly nights. He gazed out the window one last time, watching as the light from the full moon and the stars reflected off the light, powdery snow.
Elrond turned away from the window and headed towards the sitting room where the rest of his family was waiting for him. A gentle gust of wind followed him, teasing him with the refreshing coolness it carried.
And yet...if the elf lord had remained for one moment longer, he would have observed a dark figure moving towards his home, hunched over and stumbling through the snow.
Rivendell...we've made it, finally! I thought that we'd never make it...I'm so tired. The woman thought as she pulled the edges of her cloak around her more tightly. The cold wind of the late-night air made her tremble, but now that she could see the welcoming lights of the House of Elrond at the end of the path she was forcing through the snow, she found the strength to keep going.
The woman bravely struggled through the snow, until her foot caught on a hidden rock beneath the snow and she tripped, falling towards the snow. Twisting painfully, she managed to land on her back, instead of face-first.
Gasping for breath around the pain in her side and chest, she clutched the bundle that she held in her arms more tightly to her, trying not to sob as the pain wracked her. She had to get up...had to keep going, for the future that she held protected in her arms. And yet...she hurt so badly...her chest felt like it was on fire, and she could feel a warm wetness flowing down her side.
Sitting up painfully slowly, she managed to get to her feet and get turned around, heading ever closer to the welcoming lights of the Last Homely House. For the future...for the future...
Inside the Last Homely House, the traditional family gathering was in full swing. A roaring fire was blazing inside the fireplace, and the family was gathered in front of the fireplace, talking softly and laughing.
Elrond was enthroned in his favorite armchair, and his sons and friends were spread out around him. Elladan and Elrohir were sprawled out on pillows in front of the fireplace...or at least that was how they had started the evening. Now one of their normal brotherly spats had escalated into a minor wrestling match on the floor.
Glorfindel and Erestor, Elrond's two chief advisors, were seated on one of the long sofas in the room, talking softly and laughing at the twins as they tried to outdo one another and force the other to concede defeat.
Elrond looked around the warm, welcoming room...this was a familiar, comforting scene, but there were two people missing from the cheerful atmosphere. His youngest child, his daughter Arwen, was in Lothlorien with her grandparents. Elrond knew that despite her love for her father and brothers, Rivendell was no longer home for her...it hadn't been since her mother's departure.
Celebrian...my darling Celebrian Elrond thought sadly as he reflected on the other missing person in the room. His beloved wife had been gone now for many long years, but her departure was still an open wound in the hearts of Elrond and his children...and this time of year, while still special to them, never felt the same without the presence of Celebrian and Arwen.
Elrond's gaze was fixed on the fire as he reflected on past years, past winters, when they would all gather here in this room, and Celebrian would tell the children stories of years past...when they had all been a completed family. One day they would all be together again in Valinor, and Elrond longed for that day with all his heart...but it was not yet his time to sail. Something was keeping him tied here, tied to Middle-Earth and Rivendell.
A soft thump roused him from his thoughts as he looked down at the laughing forms of his sons. Elrohir, the younger of the twins, had managed to pin his brother to the floor, with the older twin's face muffled in one of the large throw pillows. Elrond laughed softly, until another thump drew his attention out of the room. No one else seemed to have heard the noise over the sounds that the twins were making, but Elrond could have sworn that he had heard something outside.
Rising to his feet, the Lord of Rivendell placed his mug on a nearby end table and swept silently out of the room. He paused in the hallway. The lights had already been dimmed for the night, and only a few flickering candles lit the foyer. The soft thump came again, quieter this time. It was definitely coming from outside the house, and sounded like someone knocking on the large oak doors.
Swiftly picking up one of the candles, Elrond moved towards the door. He worked the latch and pulled the great doors open, holding the candle up to see who had come to his home on one of the coldest nights of the year.
Huddled on the front step was a young, dark-haired woman, wrapped in a tattered brown cloak that wasn't heavy enough to protect from the chill of the night. She raised tired, red-rimmed grey eyes to the light, and with a jolt, Elrond recognized her.
"Gilraen? What are you doing here? Please, come inside." Elrond said quickly, opening the door wider and allowing the ranger inside. She stumbled over the threshold, and would have fallen if Elrond hadn't caught her arm and steadied her. Once she had her balance, the elf lord closed and locked the door.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you so late, my lord Elrond. I didn't mean to wake you." she started to say, but Elrond quieted her with a smile and a shake of his head.
"Fear not, Gilraen. My doors are open any time of the day or night. You are welcome here, and you didn't wake me. My family was relaxing together in the other room." Elrond's smile disappeared as he noticed the way the woman was shivering, even in the warmth of the hall.
"Come; let us get you warmed in front of a fire, and into some dry clothes." He took her arm and started to lead her back towards the sitting room, when the ranger began to cough harshly. She raised her hand to her mouth until the spasm stopped, but when she brought her hand down, it was spattered with blood.
Elrond's healer instincts took over. "Elladan, Elrohir!" he called loudly. The twins came hurrying out of the room moments later, followed closely by Glorfindel and Erestor. Elrond turned his attention to the twins. "Go; prepare one of the healing rooms, quickly. Glorfindel, start a fire in the room, Elladan, fetch my supplies. Elrohir, find some dry clothing for Gilraen. Erestor, heat some water and bring it up. Quickly!" Elrond issued his orders in a smooth, no nonsense, tone that made the other elves jump to obey. They scattered, and Elrond turned his attention back to Gilraen, who was trembling like a leaf. Elrond moved to carry her up to the room that was being readied, when he saw that she was clutching a tightly wrapped bundle.
Picking the woman up, careful not to disturb her bundle, Elrond moved swiftly up the stairs. He could feel something warm and wet on his hands, and he feared to know what that was. He looked down at the ranger. "Gilraen, where is Arathorn?" he asked softly, trying to keep her conscious, since she was so pale she looked like she was going to pass out any moment.
The woman's face paled still more at the question, and her eyes glistened with tears. "Orcs, my lord Elrond...orcs attacked our camp...Arathorn...dead." She was becoming delirious with fever, and began coughing harshly.
Elrond frowned. That was not good news. Arathorn was the Heir of Isildur, and had no children yet. If he was dead, the line of the Kings of Gondor was broken. He entered the healing room to the warmth of a roaring fire, and his sons and Glorfindel waiting to help with his burden. Elrond laid the woman onto the bed, and then moved to take the bundle from her, but she only clasped it tighter to her chest.
"No...you won't take him from me!" the woman moaned; sweat beading on her head and her eyes wide with fright and a fiery determination to protect what she held. "Stay back!" she yelled when Elladan again moved forward to take the bundle of dirty rags from her. "You shall not have him!"
"Gilraen...sîdh my lady, sîdh. Peace...peace." Elrond said softly, but commandingly. "I must treat you" His gentle voice got through to her, and she stared at him with wide eyes before releasing the death-grip she'd had on the bundle.
Elrond gently picked the bundle up. It was heavier than he'd expected, and warm. As he was moving to lay it to the side, a thought struck him, and he carefully unwrapped the outermost layer of the rags.
He got one of the biggest surprises of his life. Nestled in the rags, which he could now see was the tattered remains of a heavy winter cloak...probably Gilraen's, he mused, was a tiny, cherubic face, sound asleep. A baby...that was what she had meant when she'd said that "you shall not have him". She had been trying to protect the child, and in her delirium she had mistaken Elladan for an orc trying to take her baby away, which wasn't surprising considering that they had apparently been attacked by orcs.
"Elrohir...take the baby." Elrond said urgently. "Warm him, dry him off, and find him a bottle, he's probably hungry. The child couldn't be more than a year old, two at most, but Elrond didn't think that the infant was that old.
Elrohir took the child carefully and hurried off to do as he'd been instructed. Gilraen followed the younger twin with her eyes and reached out for her baby, moaning softly under her breath. Elrond studied her, and had a feeling that she would fight him when he tried to remove her soaking wet garments to see to any wounds that she might have, so making a fast decision he left the room.
Moving into the small room off the main healing room, he quickly selected several dried herbs from his expansive stores and began to brew a tea that would relax the woman and put her to sleep so that he could treat her.
He returned to the healing ward to find Gilraen moaning with pain. Her fever had skyrocketed and she was sweating profusely in the warmth of the room. Frowning, Elrond walked to her side and sat on the bed, lifting up her head and administering the tea that he had prepared. It only took a few moments to take effect, and the ranger fell into a deep, if not entirely restful, slumber. Her breath was rattling in her chest, and she was pale.
Moving quickly, Glorfindel and Elladan helped to strip the soaking wet, tattered clothes from the woman's unconscious form. Elrond washed his hands and then turned back to his patient. He hissed in dismay as he saw her wound. There was a deep stab wound in her side which was bleeding freely. He couldn't imagine how she'd managed to walk to Rivendell with that wound, while carrying a child, on a cold winter night.
There is much to be said for a desperate mother trying to protect herself and her child. the healer mused as he went to work, cleaning the wound out carefully, checking for any signs of infection or poison. Not finding anything, he proceeded to stitch up the wound and bandage it. He checked her over for any more hidden wounds, and discovered that she had broken ribs, and one had punctured her lung.
The elf lord worked desperately to save the young ranger, but he knew that he was fighting a losing battle. She was too sick, and too badly wounded. There wasn't much more that he could do for her, she was beyond his aid.
As he was nearing the end of what treatment he could administer to the dying woman, she woke from her drugged sleep and focused bleary, pain-filled eyes on the elf lord. "Lord Elrond...where is my baby? They didn't get my baby?!"
Elrond moved to soothe her distress. "No, Gilraen. Elrohir took him to get him dry and in clean clothes and to find something for him to eat." The elf lord smiled and sat down next to the bed. "What's his name?"
Gilraen smiled weakly. "Aragorn. He'll be a year old on March 1st."
Elrond smiled. "That's wonderful, Gilraen." the elf lord sobered. "I am sorry to hear about Arathorn's death. He was a wonderful man, and a dear friend."
Gilraen nodded, then coughed harshly as Elrohir walked back into the room with little Aragorn. "Lord Elrond...please tell me the truth. Am I going to die?"
Elrond sighed. He hated to do this, but she was too perceptive, she had known immediately that she wasn't well. "I am afraid so, Gilraen. Your wounds are bad, there is little that I can do for you, and I've tried everything in my power."
To his surprise, though tears welled up in her eyes, she nodded acceptance. "At least Aragorn is safe. My lord, will you please do me a favor?"
Elrond nodded and she continued. "Take my son, and raise him as your own. He's the last of the line of Isildur...he will be hunted all his life if it is discovered that he is alive. He will be safe here, in Rivendell."
Elrond was speechless as he stared at the young mother. Finally, he nodded. "I will do as you ask, Gilraen, but I do not know what I have to offer him."
Gilraen smiled. "Your love, your care, a safe place to live. You are one of the wisest beings left in Middle-Earth, you can teach him, and when the time comes, he will claim the throne that is his birthright."
Elrohir brought her child over to her and she reached up for the sleeping infant, holding him close and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "My beloved son...you will be safe here." she offered the child to Elrond, who took him carefully. "He is your son, my lord. It pains me to know that he will never call me mother, or Arathorn, father, for you will be his parent...but at least he is safe here."
Elrond looked down at the tiny child in his arms. The baby had woken after his mother handed him over, and he stared up at Elrond with soft silver eyes, so like Elrond's own, and the twins' as well. Elrond was struck by how closely he resembled Elladan and Elrohir. "I will raise him, Gilraen. You have my word of honor. He will be kept safe, and until the proper time, no one will know he lives. I will send messages out that he was killed with you and Arathorn, and he will simply be known as Estel."
Gilraen smiled and coughed again before she spoke. "Hope. A good name, my lord." She studied the noble elf. "I think that he was meant to be yours to love and cherish, Elrond. He will bring great joy to your life."
Her breathing grew more ragged. "Thank you, my lord. I will join Arathorn in peace, knowing that our son is in good hands." she closed her eyes and slipped into unconsciousness, and slowly she passed beyond the circles of the world.
Elrond sighed and looked down at the child in his arms as Elrohir drew the blankets up over the woman's head. The elf lord stood and walked to the window, looking out at the white world, then gazing up at the stars, his eyes resting on Earendil, the star of high hope.
Starlight falling on the snow
Fire glows within
Elladan and Elrohir came over to stand next to their father and new brother. Elrond looked at them. "Hope for the world of men has been born this day my sons. Estel will bring that hope. From this day forward, he is to be known only as Estel Elrondion."
The twins nodded. "Yes Ada."
Elrond sighed. "Come, let us go back downstairs and introduce Estel to Glorfindel and Erestor. He turned and left the room, with the twins following. Elladan paused long enough to close the door to the healing room. They would have to bury Gilraen in the morning, when there was light to see.
Celebrate the joyful news
Hope is born again
They entered the smaller sitting room to find Glorfindel and Erestor waiting for them. Elrond shook his head at the silent questions on their faces. "Gilraen did not survive. It is to be known throughout all of Rivendell that her son, Aragorn, perished along with her and Arathorn."
Glorfindel nodded, but Erestor frowned. "But how will you explain the presence of the infant, my lord?"
Elrond smiled. "This is Estel...my adopted son. From this day forward, Aragorn is not to be spoken of, and this little one will be known only as Estel...until the time is right for him to know of his heritage.
The two advisors nodded. "Welcome to Rivendell, Estel." Glorfindel said quietly as the little family gathered around the fireplace again.
Elladan poured hot drinks for all of them and passed the mugs around the room as they all bid a silent farewell to Arathorn and Gilraen.
There is holly round the doorway
There is cider on the stove
And the sound of song will fill the air
As the family gathers close.
The silence lengthened, until Estel began to wake and squirm in Elrond's arm. The elf lord immediately began to hum quietly under his breath, and soon the twins and then his advisors joined in singing an old elvish lullaby to the newest member of the House of Elrond.
Lift your voices high and sing
Grace has entered in
Praises to the infant king
Hope is born again
Outside the house, the wind picked up and began to blow through the gully that sheltered Rivendell, singing a song of its own in welcome for the new son of Elrond. The snow began to fall again, shrouding the house behind a white curtain.
Through the frost upon the window
See the stockings on the hearth
Where the light reflects the cheerfulness
That's growing in our hearts
Estel quickly fell back to sleep, but the song of the elves continued, as they sang in honor of Gilraen, who protected her child to the last, to Elbereth for the beautiful stars in the sky, to all the Valar for the world that had been created, and to Estel for he was the future hope of Men and the new king.
Lift your voices high and sing
Grace has entered in
Praises to the infant king
Hope is born again
After several long moments, Elrond rose and moved towards the staircase to find a room for the infant. Estel was part of their family now. Elladan followed him up to the family wing, and then thinking quickly, managed to unearth the old cradle that had last been used by Arwen thousands of years ago.
Elrond gestured for his eldest to put the cradle in his own chambers for the first night. He wanted to be near Estel for the first few weeks, until they all adjusted to having a baby in the house again. Elrohir came in a few minutes later with some baby blankets that he had brought from the healing wing, which were used when sick or ill children were brought in to the healing ward.
Elrond began to sing softly again as he rocked the child while the twins prepared his bed. Once everything was set, Elrond placed the infant in the cradle and tucked him in, still singing softly. He could already feel the joy that Gilraen had spoken of when she said that Estel would bring joy into their home. It had been so long since there were small children in his house, and already his family's spirits seemed lighter.
Lift your voices high and sing
Grace has entered in
Praises to the infant king
Hope is born again
All three elves stood and watched the sleeping child for a few minutes before heading back downstairs to rejoin Erestor and Glorfindel. The celebration wouldn't last much longer that night, but they would not just leave the two advisors downstairs.
And the hope of that first Christmas
The day that heaven came to earth
Now it comes again and fills our hearts
As we celebrate his birth
It was less than an hour later when Elrond found himself back in his room, looking back down at his newest son, feeling the proud joy swelling in his heart as he had with each of his other three children when they were this little. On each occasion he had felt like the luckiest father alive, for he and his wife had been blessed by the Valar with twins and a daughter, and now he had another son that he already loved dearly.
The elf lord readied himself for bed, and then walked to the window one last time to look back out at the white world. The snow was only falling gently, and the stars could still be seen through the fat flakes.
Elrond turned back to the cradle and bent down, kissing Estel on the head. "Quel kaima, Estel nin, ion nin. Sleep well, my Estel, my son.Welcome home." With that, Elrond turned and quickly fell into elven sleep himself, even though half of his attention was on the cradle beneath the window, where his newest child slept in peace.
Starlight falling on the snow
Fire glows within
Celebrate the joyful news
Hope is born again