Huzzah, another chapter. I think everyone on ff.net died. Or maybe it's just an end-of-the-semester type thing. –shrug- Hope everyone comes back to life soon! Here's another chapter, featuring the Rangers. You know the drill ^.^ read and review please.

-A

Until At Last

            Aragorn looked out over the windswept Weather Hills from his place on Weathertop. On the hill had once stood the great watch tower of Amon Sûl, but now only ruins remained. Amongst the stones gathered the Dúnedain, the last protectors of the north. The last had just arrived, a total of forty men were assembled, waiting for their chief to speak. Aragorn launched into the retelling of all that had transpired and all that had been decided during the Council of Elrond just two days ago. All listened intently, they had noticed vague changed and harsh ones over the past few years. The news brought things into focus.

            "Our time is rising even in this shadow. If the Fellowship is to succeed we must find all we can of the Riders. Only the bodies of horses were found, we must know what has become of the Nine. We ride north, south, west, and east – but do not cross the Misty Mountains. Take your leave now, time is against us." With these last words the Rangers left as discreetly as they had arrived until but a few remained. Farren, Haeranan, and Jephima approached Aragorn quietly.

            "We had expected to see the twins with you."

            Aragorn shook his head. "They have been sent to the south east to seek news, we will see them when we return to Rivendell." I hope, he added silently. The boy near him looked a bit put out, evidently Jephima had hoped to see Elladan and Elrohir again. A flash of gold caught his attention and the Dúnadan shook his head. "Forgive me, I've neglected to introduce you to those that will be joining us."

            Two Elves slipped down from the stone they had been settled on, one a rich blond and the other had more of a silvery shade.

            "Farren, Haeranan, and Jephima, I present you to Badalë and Celebëarin of the House of Elrond." The Elves gave half bows as their names were said and the Dúnedain returned the gesture. Aragorn looked to the sky – the sun was sinking on the western horizon, only it's light could be seen just above the hills. "We'll stay here tonight and ride south along the Mitheithel and farther to the Gwathló tomorrow. We may find news there."

            "We will keep watch, we have little need for sleep this night." Celebëarin offered, already climbing up a crumbling wall and rock face. Badalë was already on the western wall, watching the evening overtake the sunset. Farren shook his head with a smile.

            "It seems we are given little choice. Good night and good watch to you, Elves." The men soon began to settle themselves in sheltered places, but none slept yet. It was somewhat of a tradition to watch the Star of Eärendil, the last of the simarils, rise in the sky. Jephima turned his head at the sound of gentle humming, then actual chanting. It surprised him to see it was Aragorn and not one of the Elves. The young man rolled over to better hear it.

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,

We must away ere break of day

Far over wood and mountain tall.

            There was a pause and Jephima wondered if the song was finished before two more voices entered, both soft but strong and sweet. The voices filled his heart with warmth and light as they Elves joined in Aragorn's song:

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell

In glades beneath the misty fell,

Through moor and waste we ride in haste,

And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,

Beneath the sky shall be our bed,

Until at least our toil be passed,

Our journey done, our errand sped.

            Jephima's heart lifted at the thought of going to Rivendell, to live amongst the Elves as Aragorn had. The young man let out a quiet sigh as he settled. The Elves had broken off and now Aragorn's pleasant voice was alone once more:

We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!

            The song ended and Jephima understood its meaning – they would be leaving before dawn and once they had gone down the river they would return to Rivendell. To Rivendell and the Elves! After meeting Elladan and Elrohir it had been all he could do to keep his thoughts from wandering to the Elves. And now he would travel with two others from the House of Elrond. He looked up and saw the silhouettes of the Elves; the moon and star light were caught in their fair hair and held deep within their eyes. The boy sighed and rolled over restlessly before falling into a deep slumber.

            Celebëarin looked to the east, as he had for most of the night, and sighed. There was a slight pearl glow just over the far off Misty Mountains – they looked to be mere bumps on the horizon. He leapt down from his great stone perch lithely, not a sound was made as he landed. With light feet he crossed the ruins to climb up another great wall. Badalë was at the top. On closer inspection Celebëarin found that though his friend's eyes were open, they were unfocused. Celebëarin smirked and shook his head. He had slept the same way for some of the night: eyes open, ears alert, but mind walking in the dream world. With a light touch, the other Elf woke and looked to the east, then focused blue eyes on Celebëarin's silver-grey ones. "Shall we wake them?"

            "Yes, Elessar wished to be off before dawn."

            "Speak not that name 'til he takes it for himself. He does not yet possess the Elfstone."

            "Of course." Celebëarin took a moment to look proper contrite before leaping down again to rekindle the fire. Badalë joined him on the ground shortly to wake the Dúnedain. Aragorn they had found to be awake already and Jephima was the most reluctant.

            "Wake to the day, young Ranger." Badalë tilted his head, trying to rouse Jephima. It was a comical sight – an Elf poised gracefully over the young man in a position that would have been made to look awkward by a human. Celebëarin and Aragorn both found the humour and chuckled softly. Jephima rolled over to find himself face to face with an upside-down Elven face. He gave a little cry and shot up, only to hit his head against Badalë's chest. The Elf laughed and stood up as to let the boy rise, the rest of the group was smiling good naturedly.

            "Do not feel embarrassment, young one, I assure you that you are not Badalë's first victim." Aragorn grinned as he spoke, Jephima looked rather irritated to be awakened so early and in so odd a fashion.

            "I'd 've preferred a simple bucket of water over my head."

            "It could have been arranged, but I saw no need to waste water until we are near the river and surrounded by it." Badalë's light voice held a cheerful tone as he sat beside Celebëarin. Jephima was soon at the fireside, observing the two Elves. In some ways they were much like Elladan and Elrohir – both cheerful and bright with good natures and he had a feeling they would be serious when they had to be. But of course the differences were just as obvious to him. Celebëarin and Badalë were not related, as far as he knew, nor did they have dark hair. And they simply felt different to him. He couldn't explain it and wouldn't try to.

            "Aragorn, the Dwarves have said little to me of the matters of which you speak. I have not been far east enough to visit Erebor for some time, though. And that is where you say that Gimli and his father Glóin arrived from." Farren had awoken on his own pace and was not seated at the fire, smoothing his chestnut hair.

            "That does not surprise us." Badalë's voice held some scorn, but now it was Celebëarin's turn to shoot him a reprimanding look. Badalë's return was sullen.

            "You speak harshly - "

            "No less than they deserve. Great disrespect was shown to Elrond upon the arrival of Gimli son of Glóin to his home. Tis his own fault I hold this judgement now."

            "Both of you quiet. We did not bring this up to discuss the grievances between Dwarves and Elves. And I am not entirely surprised, Farren. They Dwarves of the Misty Mountains are not so connected to the world as they once were." Aragorn had chastised both the Elves, and both had looked like surprised children for a moment before become good natured once more. If they had decided to discuss all of the problems between the two races, they would never get anything done.

            "Yes, that is true. And I wonder if they would have said aught to me at all of their troubles." Farren nodded slowly and went about searching his pack for something to eat. He'd noticed the Elves crunching happily on lembas.

            "Hurry with your meals, we leave as soon as we can. We've at least six hundred miles to cover and I wish to cover the territory in six days, as far south as Lond Daer."

            "That would suggest you wish to make this entire journey – south to Lond Daer and home to Imladris – in less than a fortnight." Haeranan spoke up, sounding just slightly overwhelmed. "Are you sure we can meet this pace?"

            "Yes. We must. Elrond asked for news as swiftly as we could manage. Time is of the essence of all we are to do."

            "If that is so, then we should quiet our chatter and liven our limbs. Celebëarin and I are ready, we need only your word."

            Aragorn nodded. "In ten minutes we ride. The dawn is upon us."

Short, yes. But don't let that stop you from pushing the little review button! ^.^

AN: Song taken from FotR

Translations:

Mitheithel – the Hoarwell

Gwathló – the Greyflood