Hello, I am here as promised! Just as a warning, the next chapter may take a little bit more time than usual. I will try to get it out on time, but my wonderful sister beta is kind of expecting her first child, so she may not be able to go over the chapter as soon as I have it ready. The kid is already a week overdue, so the long awaited event could happen at any moment. We'll see. Anyway, Halith doesn't show in this chapter but we get to learn a little bit more of why Aragorn is in not very good condition at the moment.

The elves of Lorien stared at the human as he collapsed into Haldir's arms. Their leader caught the human, his fair features twisted into an unreadable expression. Though they had no love for any that did not abide under their trees, the elves of Lothlorien were not heartless. The human was injured, and he had obviously traveled far. Road dust coated him from head to foot, mingling with the fresh blood that seeped through a crude bandage on his arm, and another that bound a pad of cloth to a wound across the chest. Halith murmured the question to himself, assuming that the man was past hearing. To the elf's surprise, the silver eyes flickered and focused on him briefly. "Estel," was the breath that squeezed past the bleeding lips. "Estel Elrondion."

Haldir swore softly to himself. He had known, as had most of Lorien, of the human that Elrond had taken under his wing. The elf-lord's foster son, and heir to the throne of Gondor. For a few moments, Haldir could not move as he realized exactly who it was that he held in his arms. This was the hope of men. This was the heir of Isildur.

The blond elf swiftly scooped the human up and jerked his head, motioning to his men to follow him. Haldir shook his head as he strode into the shadows of the Golden Wood.

The man looked like he was going to die.

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A soft rain fell with the evening shade. Purple clouds rolled in the dusky sky. Every few moments a flash of lightening lit the darkness, followed by the soft rolling of distant thunder.

Within the branches of the mallorn trees, the fair folk of Lorien enjoyed the rare beauty of the night. Only within one dwelling were the occupants completely unaware of nature's display.

Haldir sighed softly and leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. The softest of sounds at the door made him sit up straight, immediately alert.

"Peace, Haldir." The low, musical voice of the lady of the wood filled the room. She stood in the doorway, golden hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back. The room was dark, save for the flashes of lightning. They had found that light only seemed to upset the other occupant of the room.

"He will not wake, hiril nin," Haldir said softly. The tall elf was seated beside a low bed, and on the bed there was a man. A human. Lady Galadriel approached the bedside, her small feet making no sound. Her blue gaze looked upon the human and turned grave.

"His wounds?"

"They have been treated." Haldir pulled the covers back, revealing the bandages the wrapped around the human's chest and arm.

Galadriel nodded, silently assessing the bearded features of the human.

Great drops of sweat stood out on his brow. His skin was browned, and told of a life spent mostly in the outdoors, however there was a very unhealthy gray undertone at the moment. He stirred restlessly, whimpering in his sleep. Dark hair spread across the pillow like the silken tendrils of an undersea plant. The lady's brow furrowed still more as she gazed at the young man. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed for an instant as if the dark strands of hair were alive, a palpable reminder of the darkness within him that would slowly spread…

"Ada," he whispered, his voice harsh even at so low a decibel. Not the harshness of a cruel voice, but of one that had suffered much, and was rusty from lack of use.

Galadriel stretched out her long fingers and laid them on his forehead. With a deep breath she closed her eyes…

…only to open them in a world of nightmares. The sky was black and yet an evil red light lit the desolate landscape. Pits bubbled and oozed noxious slime. There were living beings here, but they were orc, or creatures even more foul. Through the black haze she could feel a deep and disturbing emotion. Fear. Somewhere in that scarred land was someone who did not belong there, and he was deeply afraid. The elf woman's jaw tightened as she gazed around her. She knew that this was not reality. This was the young man's memory of the savage land he had escaped from. The fear was his.

Movement caught her eye. Turning, she saw an outcrop of rock. It offered shelter, and more importantly, it offered a hiding place. She could see the young man, his back pressed tightly to the rough surface. He was resting, hoping the rock would hide his presence for a few minutes.

The elf woman stepped forward and touched his arm lightly. "Estel."

His silver eyes were wary as he gazed at her. "Who are you? How do you know that name?"

"This is past you," she said firmly, ignoring his questions. "You are not in Mordor anymore. What hunts you even in your mind?"

The silver eyes were wide and frightened. "Everything," he whispered. "I have seen the dark tower, and the minions that serve the Eye. I escaped detection, but hid near the city of the Nazgul for many days. I have seen things…" His voice broke and he almost seemed to choke with the horror of what he had witnessed. "Slaves brought into the Black Land, men and women and children. I…I could not save them…and the orcs… The orcs played with them." Tears stood brightly in his silver eyes. "I have seen slaves hacked to pieces because they were too slow in carrying out a command. I have seen women dragged away to be savaged and the children! Eru!" A sob shook his shoulders as he covered his face with his hands. "Do not make me remember what happened to the children!"

Galadriel looked at him in wonder. She understood more clearly now. The fear was his, yes. But this was not the fear of someone who was afraid for his own life. Elrond had told her before that his son was not eager to accept the responsibility of being Isildur's heir. He was afraid that he would be weak, as Isildur had been weak. He was afraid that he would not be able to help his people.

Now, the elf lady looked down on the ranger and compassion softened her blue eyes. Estel had seen suffering and death, and he had not been able to help. Galadriel crouched beside him, laying a comforting hand on his arm. The strong shoulders trembled with weeping. She could feel his despair and helplessness.

And something else. Beneath his sorrow, and the fear that beset him, he was angry. Smoldering behind the tear-dewed eyes was a righteous rage waiting to be unleashed on the twisted evil that dared to harm his people…

Galadriel could not contain a small smile of triumph. She had been so afraid that the evils he had seen had broken his spirit. There was steel in this ranger. He grieved for the innocent and was overcome with guilt for not being able to act, but Mordor had not crushed him.

"Aragorn," she whispered. "This is past you." She reached out and took hold of his bearded chin, turning his face towards hers. The human faced her with dignity, unashamed of the tear tracks on his still-young face.

"I can not forget what I have seen," he said quietly. A depth of anguish lay in those simple words.

"I would not ask you to forget, nor remove your memories if I could," the elf lady replied. "For if you were to forget that which caused you pain, how would you learn? If you did not remember those who suffered in this horrible land, would you feel the need to challenge the evil that promotes their pain?"

Aragorn stared at her for a moment, transfixed by her words. His brown hand closed tightly over hers as though it were a lifeline, and he, a drowning man. Seconds seemed to crawl by as his gaze moved back and forth, taking in the nightmarish landscape. Galadriel tightened her grip, bringing his attention back to her. Her blue eyes were calm and reassuring.

Estel heaved a deep sigh. Slowly, the human pushed himself to his feet, keeping hold of the elf woman's delicate hand. As he stood, the black land melted away. Trees replaced the rocks; new grass the pits of slime. The landscape was changed into one as pleasant as the last had been barren.

"Home," Estel said quietly. "It has been so long since I've been here…" a spark of humor lit his silver eyes as he glanced at the Lady Galadriel. "Though to an elf I don't think it would seem so lengthy a time."

"Adan see things differently than the Eldar," Galadriel agreed, a smile curling her lips.

Estel turned his gaze to the trees. "I want to return home," his voice was plaintive, but not whining. He was simply stating a fact.

"You will." The elf woman slowly drew her hand from his. "But for now, rest. Be at peace, Estel Elrondion."

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Galadriel opened her eyes and focused on Haldir. The elf was gazing at her intently, his brow furrowed with concern. The elf woman smiled softly, allaying any concerns he might have had. "He will be well," her deep voice answered the unspoken question. "Not easily is the spirit of Elendil's line crushed."

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hiril nin---my lady

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okay, I know that this was not a very long chapter, but the next one should be much longer. Sorry! I try not to have chapters this short, but every once in a while they sneak in there. Mostly when my muse is lobbying for better working conditions and higher pay… Oh well. I loooooooooooove reviews! I really really really do!