A/N: Thank you viggomaniac, Lilandriel and Nasuada Moon for the kind reviews. (smiles) You have no idea how much you reassured me that I had done at least a passable job on this.

Out in the beautiful, fragrant courtyard of Imladris, her Lord was pacing uneasily, scanning for any sign of his sons. Despite the stunning beauty around him; he was completely unaware of it.

In retrospect, Elrond Peredhil knew that the twins had only been out hunting for two weeks yet. Often, their hunts had run longer.

And before they had also came back injured, battered, bleeding and broken. Too many times to count, and much more than Elrond cared to remember.

So he was torn between relief and nervousness as he saw two figures racing towards the House of Elrond.

He was so completely absorbed in watching the progress of the riders that he didn't hear the figure coming up behind him.

His seneschal, Glorfindel, had came silently up behind him and following his Lord's gaze, asked rhetorically. "What has those two done now?"

Startled at the sound of the voice, Elrond turned.

Despite the obvious tension, the golden-haired elf laughed softly at the look of surprise on Elrond's face. "I'm sorry mellon-nîn. I didn't mean to startle you."

Elrond nodded absently. "It's fine. And I don't yet know what happened."

The pair waited in silence, Elrond straining his eyes to see his sons.

Finally, they cleared the trees, and he could see them more clearly. "They appear to be uninjured. But something has to be wrong, at the pace they're setting-"

Elrond broke off abruptly.

There was an unconscious efling or child riding in front of his oldest son.
Glorfindel noticed as well. "I'm guessing that is why."

By the time he had finished speaking, the twins had drawn up to them, their mounts lathered and breathing hard. Their masters didn't look much better, their long ebony locks wind-blown, faces dirty and grim.

"Ada!" Elrohir cried, his face breaking out with relief.

Elrond nodded. "What is going on, my sons? What have you gotten yourselves into now?"

Elrohir was already off his horse; Elladan a bit slower with the unconscious bundle in his arms. Elrond could see now that it was a human child, very young, with blood-stained bandages wrapped around his thigh and chest.

Even as he watched, the boy shivered, unconsciously trying to seek warmth in Elladan's arms.

Elrond reached out, placing a hand on the child's forehead, frowning at what he felt.

"He burns with a fever."

"Yes, he was shot with yrch arrows, ada."

The elder elf's frown deepened at that. "Give him to me. I must get him to the House of Healing at once. You two may join me after you put away your horses."

"But ada wait!" Elladan nearly yelled.

Their father paused, and the twins hurried over and leaned over confidentially, as if afraid of being overheard.

Elrond frowned. What in the name in Arda was going on here?

"There's something you need to know, adar." Elladan spoke quietly.

Elrohir nodded. "Yes. The boy… he is Aragorn son of Arathorn. Both he and Gilrean have passed from this world. So he is the last of the blood-line."

As if his father needed to be told. Arathorn, and young Aragorn were descended from Elrond's own twin brother, Elros, dead for many so years now. Making them his nephews, though long descended. After Elros had chosen to be counted among the Edain, forsaking his immortal life, becoming the first King of the Dúnedain.

Elrond's face paled. "How… never mind, there will be time for questions later. Right now I need to get him inside," he turned to his advisor. "While the twins are taking care of their horses, I will need your help, mellon-nîn."

"Of course." Glorfindel replied instantly. He knew just as well as Elrond that the boy in his arms had to survive. It was imperative, or the race of men would fail.

Elrond gently laid the unconscious child on one the large beds in the House of Healing, frowning at how small, and terribly vulnerable he looked, shivering violently.

The healer snapped out of his thoughts. "I will need your help, mellon-nîn , as I will have to cut open and drain the poison from his wounds. It will be undoubtedly be excruciating, although the fact that he is so ill, I do not know if he will regain consciousness or not during the procedure. But just in case, I need you to hold him down."

Glorfindel nodded, and as Elrond quickly set out his healing instruments, Glorfindel carefully placed his hands on Aragorn's uninjured leg and shoulder, wincing at how hot the boy was.

"Are you ready, mellon-nîn?" Glorfindel asked, raising a blond eyebrow in question.

Elrond nodded, and began to cut with his healer's knife.

Aragorn jerked underneath Glorfindel's hands, and tried to scream. But he was so weak, it barely made a sound.

Elrond gazed down at him, his wise eyes full of suffering for the boy. "It is all right, pen-nîn tithen. I am Lord Elrond, and I am a Healer. But unfortunately, your wounds are poisoned, and are making you ill, so I need to drain them. I'm sorry if this is paining you."

Aragorn's silver eyes were glassy with fever as he gazed up at the elf lord. "My mother and father are dead, aren't they? The yrchs killed them."

Elrond startled slightly. He hadn't expected the boy to understand Elvish, let alone speak it as well as any Elf.

He hesitated; not wanting to have to tell Aragorn that indeed, both of his parents had perished in the yrch attacks.

Thankfully, he was spared from answering as the child again lost consciousness.

"I must hurry; he is growing worse by the moment." Elrond muttered to himself and carried on with the procedure.

He was fifteen minutes in when the door to the House of Healing opened quietly, and Elladan and Elrohir crept in silently.

They both gazed down silently at the little boy they had rescued. He looked positively awful, ghastly pale, except for a hectic flush on his cheeks from the raging fever, and he shivered. "How does he fair?" asked Elrohir, fearing the answer, but having to know.

Elrond didn't look up. "I can not be sure my sons. It is encouraging that he has made it this far. Many strong warriors, both men and elves have been felled by this foul yrch poison. Our tithen Aragorn has incredible strength… so by the Valar, I hope he will survive."

He hoped it very much. Not only because Aragorn was the future King of Gondor and savior of mankind, but because of the looks in his sons' eyes.

They were filled with concern, warmth, and despite the fact that they had just met the boy, love.

In short, emotions he had not seen since Celebrían's brutal torment at the hands of the yrchs, which had caused her to sail to Valinor.

Elrond went about finishing up his work; his twins hovering nervously over him.

Finally, Elrond finished with a sigh. "I am finished."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at him anxiously. "Will he survive?"

The Elf Lord hesitated, "I do not know. His condition is perilous, and it will be touch-and-go for a long while."

The twins nodded, and each gripped one of Aragorn's limp, small hands.

And despite the grim situation, Elrond allowed himself a smile. This small boy was doing what he believed could never be done. While Elrond was healing Aragorn, Aragorn was healing his sons.

Two Days Later:

"Shouldn't he be waking now, ada?"

Elrond closed his eyes as Elrohir voiced the same question both he and Elladan had been asking at least ten times daily.

"As I said before, Elrohir, many times, in fact, he was shot twice, remember, and the wounds were filled with poison. And in the fact his tender age-"

"Wait!" Elladan cried, silencing Elrond's speech. "I think he is waking up!"

The twins crowded around the young human's bed, eager to see him fully awake for the first time.

"Aragorn, wake up please! You've had us worried." Elladan said, still holding the boy's hand.

He was rewarded with a flickering of the child's eyelids.

"Wake up pen-nîn tithen. You've been sleeping a long time."

He was unbelievably tired.

Aragorn tried to open his eyes; found them so heavy, as if there was hundred pound weights sitting on top of them. His chest and leg hurt badly too, and his mind was foggy.

What had happened?

He heard a soft, melodic voice say his name. "Aragorn, wake up please! You've had us worried."

Huh?

The voice continued, and it spoke in Elvish. "Wake up pen-nîn tithen. You've been sleeping a long time."

The Elvish jarred his memory, and it stirred images of two dark-haired elves who knelt by him, and spoke to softly while tenderly tending to his injures. Yes, he had been hurt, shot by yrch arrows, and pinned to a tree, while his parents…

His eyes flew open.

Both twins had to refrain from jumping back when Aragorn's eyes opened abruptly.

The boy stared up at them with a surprising lack of fear, but there was some sort of emotion in his silver eyes that none of the elves could not read.

"Aragorn?" Elladan asked gently.

The child looked at him. "Yes?"

"How are you feeling?"

"I am fine." Aragorn's young voice was flat.

The twins and Elrond exchanged glances.

The boy closed his eyes. "I was rude… you saved me, didn't you? Hannon-Le"

"You're more than welcome. We are just glad that we found you when we did." Elladan said, smiling at boy, though in his heart, he was disturbed at Aragorn's gravity.

"Is something wrong, Aragorn?" Elrohir spoke now. "I know this is probably disturbing-"

"I let my parents die." the child said flatly, his silver eyes shining with tears he refused to let fall.

All three of the elves winced. They had hoped that Aragorn had been spared that trauma, but apparently not.

"I was… stupid and weak! The yrchs were hitting my mother. They had already killed my father. I had gone out to climb trees, even though they told me not to… and when I came back, they were hurting them. My mother, she saw me and whispered to me. She told me to run. So I did. Like a coward. But-but when they stabbed her, I screamed. That's how they knew I was there."

Elrond saw that the twins had squeezed their eyes shut tightly. They were empathizing with little Aragorn; knowing his agony all too well.

Elrohir knelt by the side of the bed, and took Aragorn's hand once more. "You are not a coward, pen-nîn tithen. In fact, you are one of the bravest individuals that I have ever had the pleasure in meeting."

Aragorn looked up. "I'm sorry. You know my name; but I do not know any of yours."

The elves laughed softly, and Elrond spoke. "You are in the House of Elrond. I am Lord Elrond Peredhil."

Aragorn's eyes widened. "My father often spoke of you. He said you were very wise."

The twins laughed again. The small boy spoke candidly with the sweet innocence of a child, that was refreshing, as being children among the Eldar meant you were only five-hundred-years-old. Youth was something relative, if you were immortal.

"And we are his sons, if case you did not notice the family resemblance. I am Elladan, and that odd elf over there is my twin brother, Elrohir."

The boy nodded, but the strange light did not leave his eyes.

Elrond's heart was aching for him; but he did not know what to do.

"Here, I need to check your wounds. Is that all right?" Elrond asked.

Aragorn nodded, and lay quietly, though his pain was revealed by the tenseness in his small body. Elrond finished checking the wounds swiftly, pleased to see that they were healing well, with no sign of infection.

Then he reached over to the nearby bedstand, where herbs lay waiting.

Quickly he ground them, and mixed together a pain-killing tea, which the twins recognized instantly from the smell, and wrinkled their noses.

Elrond shook his head, and turned to the young human, who was currently staring at the ceiling. His teeth were tightly clenched, evidence of the agony the little boy was in.

"Aragorn, can you drink this for me? It will ease the pain that you are in."

The boy closed his eyes, and mumbled something that none of the elves caught.

"Excuse me? I didn't catch that."

"Deserve to be in pain. Failed them." Aragorn muttered, the tears finally spilling over, and running down his cheeks.

The three elves stood there, frozen in shock.

Finally, Elladan broke free from his paralysis to comfort the little boy. "No, no Aragorn. You didn't fail them."

"Do too. Came back, and I had a sword, but Mother told me to run, so-"

"You were wise, and listened. There was no possible way you could've won against so many yrchs. No one alone could have. Perhaps a group of people, yes, but alone? No, Aragorn, you did the right thing, the smart thing, the only thing, and do not forget it." Elrohir said, meeting the boy's eyes squarely.

The twins' eyes met, and they knew that each was thinking the same thing. Aragorn could not be told about his mother still being alive when they found her, at least until he was older.

Funny, in their minds, they were already beginning to think of having Aragorn as a permanent fixture here in Imladris.

As a permanent fixture in their lives.

"So will you take this for us? Please," Elladan pulled a face. "We don't like to see you in pain."

That was true. It was making both of the twins slightly ill to see Aragorn laying there, resolutely refusing the tea, yet so obviously in pain. His small face was pale, drawn and pinched. Sweat had began to darken his hair along the crown, and trickle down his neck, which the cords stood out prominently.

The child was silent for a moment. "You are not lying? I was not a coward?"

"For the love of Valar, no! Even Elladan and I could not have faced them, and hoped to have succeeded." Elrohir exclaimed.

Aragorn looked at him, as if measuring his words. Finally, much to their collective relief, he nodded.

Elrond came forward, baring the cup. Elladan lifted Aragorn up, as the boy was far too weak, and injured to sit up.

"I'm sorry pen-nîn tithen, but this is rather bitter." Elrond said as he tipped the cup into Aragorn's mouth, who shuddered.

"I'm surprised, but happy that you do not fear us." Elrohir commented as he watched the proceedings.

As soon as Elladan had eased him back onto the bed, Aragorn blinked tiredly up at Elrohir. "Why would I fear you? I have known elves before. And besides, you two saved me and were kind. I know you will not harm me."

And with those words of endorsement ringing in their ears, Aragorn drifted back off to sleep.

TBC…

Elvish:

Seneschal- advisor

mellon-nîn- my friend

Ada- Dad

Arda- Middle-Earth

Adar- Father

Imladris- Rivendell

Edain- Human/Man/Mortal

Dúnedain- Men, those of the Edain who at the beginning of the Second Age, sailed to Númenór. The Men of Westernesse, The Kings of Men.

pen-nîn tithen- My little one

Tithen- Little

Hannon-Le- Thank You

Eldar- Elves

Valar- The Ruling Powers of Middle Earth