Summary: Even Hope needs a bit of hope as the Shadow of Mordor lengthens. Aragorn finds his hope in the birth of a child.
Aenil in Estel
Chapter 4
Carefully the bare little feet patted through the dark hall. Small fingers were glanced tightly around a blanket, the thumb belonging to the same hand stuck inside a little mouth. The other hand held on tightly to a ragged and near ancient stuffed toy, unidentifiable as any kind of animal after the many years of abuse by several owners.
A loud crack of thunder pierced the silence of the night and the young figure owning the limbs cringed, tears springing into the pair of silver-grey eyes. Standing frozen for only a moment the child quickly continued down the hall. Finally reaching the intended door, the child reached high with the hand carrying the stuffed toy, tip-toeing to gain more height. With some effort the small hand wrapped around the door handle and pulled it down, effectively opening the door.
The little feet carried the child into the room to the bed in the room. 'Adar?' The small voice from the child inquired, tip-toeing again to see in the bed. Another crack of thunder accompanied the shock of finding the bed empty, the warm, comforting embrace after a nightmare missing this night.
No longer were the tears held in and sobs started racking the small body as it lowered to the ground, curling inward in hopes of finding some comfort. The soft sobs soon turned into cries, tears streaming freely down the small cheeks.
In one of the rooms across the hall, an elf steered. Groaning and slightly disorientated, he at first did not know what awoke him. Then the soft cries registered and he pushed himself out of bed. It had been some time since he had been awoken by the crying child and he wondered what had happened to change that. In the hall he was surprised to find the door to his father's room opened and the cries emitting from within.
'Aenil? Mana no roeg?' He asked, kneeling by the small child. (Angel? What is wrong?)
'Adar alsí,' the little girl sobbed. Elrohir sighed, reaching out he picked up the little girl.
'Ada garoant limb tas,' Elrohir tried to explain the most logical reason of his father being kept from sleep. (Daddy had much work) Arianna however only seemed more saddened by that. More tears were now spilling down her cheeks. 'Mana echuivoant le?' (What awoke you?)
'Olor foeg,' Arianna answered in a soft voice, burying her head in Elrohir's shoulder. The Elf now smiled. This was something he could easily deal with, bad dream of a small child had been common when Aragorn had first arrived at Imladris as a two-year-old.
'Turoch lore as nin dú hé,' he soothed, leaving his father's room with the child in his arms. (You can sleep with me this night) He carefully made sure to close the door behind him again. When he returned to his room, he found his twin standing in the open doors that connected their rooms. Elladan's eyes sought his out questioningly and he quickly explained the situation to his brother.
Normally Arianna would've gone to Gilraen in the absence of the Lord of Imladris, or gone straight to her grandmother. But the Lady Gilraen had passed away little over a month ago. Aragorn had just arrived when it happened and stayed around longer that he planned, but a few days ago he was forced to finally return back to the wild.
Elladan nodded silently, turning to the little girl in his brother's arms. 'Sidh, penneth, úqua hi negro le,' he assured the child. (Peace young one, nothing now hurts you) Silver-grey eyes looked at the elder twin for a moment. 'Mear olorin,' Elladan said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. (Good dreams)
Elrohir and Arianna watched Elladan return to his own room, but he left the doors open. He looked over his shoulder once with a small reassuring smile. Elrohir returned the smile, once again glad for having a twin. As Elflings they had shared a room, but as they grew up they had been given separate rooms. Now when they felt in need of the comfort knowing one's other half was just a whisper away, they let the doors between their rooms open. Their bedchambers were the only two in all of Imladris that were connected.
With one last look shared between the two Peredhil, both returned to their beds. Elrohir smiled when Arianna immediately turned over. Her thumb was once again in her mouth, blanket still held tightly, and the stuffed toy was hugged close. Her back was settled against Elrohir's chest and the Elf wrapped one arm lightly around her. Somehow he fleetingly wondered what his mother or Arwen would think if they saw him like that, before his eyes glazed over and he returned back to sleep.
Elrohir slowly roused form sleep again when he sensed someone moving close to his bed. Once his eyes focused, he found himself looking into his father's eyes and smiled. The Elven Lord sat crouched at the bed, a hand was stroking the soft tangles of Arianna's hair. The child stirred in her sleep, but did not wake.
'She had a nightmare,' Elrohir explained in a whisper. 'You were not there so I took her to sleep with me.'
'I'm here now, shall I take her?' Elrond offered his son a way out of baby-sitting.
'No, you have been working hard and she shall wake before you have fully rested. We do not mind watching her for a morn. You deserve to have a break at times too.'
Elrond smiled and nodded. It was nice to have his sons take over for him sometimes, so he could enjoy a rest. It wasn't that having Arianna around was a burden, after so many children being fostered in Rivendell and with the fostering of her father still fresh in mind, the Elven realm had easily adapted to having another mortal child running around. The only thing they seemed to forget very quickly was how tiring a young child could be.
The Elven Lord leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the child's forehead. Then he placed his hand on the younger twin's cheek, before pushing himself back to his feet and leaving the room. 'Mear olorin,' he whispered over his shoulder.
Elrohir smiled and looked down at the child sleeping curled up to his chest. She looked like a little angel, a few stray tangles of hair now falling over her eyes. He gently reached out and brushed those behind her ear.
'Be a good girl and we might take you riding in the morning,' he whispered to the sleeping child, knowing she couldn't hear or understand. Briefly he wondered why no one had yet bothered to teach the child Westron. She spoke fluent Elvish and Gilraen and Aragorn talked to her in the language of Numenor which the Dúnedain rangers preserved as best as they could.
But sleep clouded those thoughts and soon, for the third time that night, Elrohir's eyes glazed over as he returned to the blessed realms of sleep.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry it's so short, but I have little time lately to write. Please review.
A special thanks to Moromu. You can't imagine what that little note means to me. Thanks you for inspiring me to finish this chapter and for waiting so patiently for it.