Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, and all its characters, races, and creatures, as well as our beloved Middle Earth, belongs to JRR Tolkien.

We traveled slowly on the return trip, compared to my journey to Imladris. We had a wagon along this time. Elrohir told me we might split the company at some point and travel apart, going ahead of the slower moving vehicle if we so chose. Of course there were more frequent stops, so that I may feed Leofa. A more daring mother may have braved nursing on horseback. I, however brave I may have felt myself to be, have never thought myself particularly foolish—this child had teeth! Bottom teeth had erupted just opposite the top ones, and I thought not to tempt fate where my breasts were concerned. He was not above biting me as it was, and I did not want to chance an accidental clash with those choppers, especially if I could help it.

We were four weeks into our journey, and it was uneventful thus far. The Elves traveling with me were most respectful and helpful. I really did enjoy Elves very much. I almost enjoyed them as much as I did my own kind. However, there is still something about humankind that I miss when around Elves exclusively, and I could not wait to be back amongst men and women—particularly women, I suppose. That was what I was missing most, now that I thought about it. I had been very much lacking in female companionship, Elven or Human, for a very long time. I had only myself to thank for that, if I would remember. I had refused to have Nivia returned to my service, and she had asked to come back, I had been told. But I could not abide someone I could not trust, and I could never tell in which direction Nivia's loyalties were running.

I was beginning to fret about Elrohir, though. Instead of coming out of his mourning for his brother and father, he seemed to be falling deeper into it. I tried to get him to speak to me about it, especially in the evenings after all was quiet, but he would not. He would say he was fine, and that I should just believe him when he told me that. I hoped that once we reached Minas Tirith, seeing Aragorn and Arwen would help lift his spirits. If anyone could bring Elrohir out of the doldrums, it would be they. I could not put my finger on it, but Elrohir was almost looking as if he were ailing, and anyone who knew anything about Elves knew that they did not fall ill. Perhaps Elrohir was right, and I was looking for trouble where none existed. Yet I was a healer, and I did not take my healer's instincts and warnings lightly. Lately, when I considered my Elven friend Elrohir, my instincts were definitely nudging at me mysteriously.

Leofa was growing by leaps and bounds, and he would have leapt and bounded, had he been able to walk! When we would be stopped, either in the morning before leaving or in the evenings before bedding down, the Elves would all insist on having their turn in holding and playing with him. He was now six months old, and would lock his knees and 'stand' if you held him upright. If he was held under his arms, with his feet in your lap, he would 'squat and stand' over and over—and at quite a fast pace, too, if you'd allow it. Which you would not do, too soon after he'd eaten, if you had any sense! A few of the Elves caught on to that gem of wisdom, when they were gifted with whichever meal he had eaten last, after they had played that game with him for a while. All the agitation of the 'up and down' motion was all it would take, and he would toss up his meal right in your lap—then grin like it was some huge joke—all over you!

Watching the Elves with the baby made me wonder at what Elladan had said that night on my veranda. When he had proclaimed that none of the Elves cared for little ones any longer, was he just being dramatic? Were these Elves just playing with this convenient child, and really would not like one of their own? I did not know these Elves well enough to ask any of them this question, I did not think. I decided to ask Elrohir at the next opportune moment I had.

That moment came that very evening as we settled down for the night. Elrohir had made a habit of settling his bedroll down next to Leofa and me to sleep. I felt so badly for the Elf; and truth be known, I did feel somewhat responsible for his pain. I had no way of knowing how much influence I'd had on Elladan's decision to go West. All I could do was pray that he had made up his own mind and had not been unduly influenced by me.

"Elrohir," I asked him, "once the Elves settle in The Undying Lands, do they sometimes marry and have children?"

He didn't answer for such a long time; at first I wondered if perhaps he were already at rest. I propped myself up on my elbow to look at him, making sure he was listening first of all, and then making sure I was not opening wounds that he had been trying to close. He turned his head to look at me.

"What makes you ask such a question?" he wondered, with a slight smile on his face. "Sometimes the things you think about puzzle me!"

"I meant no offense, Elrohir," I said gently. "It was something your brother said to me before we left. We had a terrible argument. Perhaps he told you about it. Some of the things you were saying the night you were dr—had too much to drink, made me think that he may have confided in you."

"He did," Elrohir admitted. "He was very distraught. Elladan and I always—since I can remember anyway—comforted each other when we were hurt or angry. Somehow we always knew what to say to the other to make the hurts better. The night you are speaking of—yes, he was extremely upset. I stayed with him the entire night, but he finally slept. Did he say something to you about Elves marrying in The Undying Lands?"

"I told him he should find an Elven woman there," I explained. "If he did that, he would have someone appropriate to love and be with for all eternity—as it should be for an Elf. It was then that he told me that he wished to be a parent—he wants children, Elrohir! And he told me that even were he to find an Elven woman after he'd sailed West, she most likely would not parent children with him. I was wondering if that was true, or if Elladan was just trying to be dramatic with me? You know, perhaps trying to make me feel guilty, so that I might change my mind? The reason I ask is because all the Elves in Imladris just love Leofa, and they all want turns holding him and playing with him. Is it simply because he is a novelty, and they truly would not dream of having a child of their own? Help me to understand, Elrohir."

"You have it exactly right, Maeren," Elrohir told me. "The Elves love Leofa, that is a fact. However, Elves take parenting beyond seriously, and give their children much of their very souls. It is considered a profound decision to bring another life into this world. It isn't something that 'just happens' to an Elven couple. They marry and bond themselves to one another, and when they deem the time is right, they mate with the intention of creating a child, and it is created."

"Elrohir," I said, almost in disbelief, "are you jesting with me?"

Elrohir smiled sweetly at me. "No jesting from me this time, Maeren," he replied. "But I have not answered your question, either. I have no doubt that Elladan could find a spouse there, if he would be willing to open his heart again. Whether he could convince that spouse to parent a child with him would be another thing completely. It has been so long since there have been any Elflings born, I think some Elves believe it a tradition to uphold, or there is some law against it by now, even though there is no such thing. But Elladan is nothing if not persuasive, so I think he could have his way, if anyone could."

I smiled, because Elrohir was so right about Elladan. Persistent would be more the term I would use in describing him, though, were it left up to me. Another thought occurred to me just then as well: I had gotten Elrohir to speak about Elladan—and he had a smile on his face when he did it! I hoped that was progress of a good sort. At least now I knew the approach to take with this Elf. Simply ask him something I sincerely wanted to know—Valar knew there were plenty of things concerning Elves of which I was still ignorant.

"Thank you, Elrohir," I said tiredly. "I suppose that helps me to know. Elladan is very persuasive and persistent. You are right. If anyone can make an Elven woman see the light, so to speak, where having Elflings is concerned, it would be your twin."

Elrohir chuckled lightly. "Go to sleep, lady. Dawn comes earlier every morning it seems."

There went my healer's instincts again, gnawing at a corner of my mind. Elrohir used to hardly ever sleep—as had neither Legolas nor Elladan hardly ever slept—on our previous journey.

"Elrohir," I began, "are you sure you are feeling all right?"

"I am feeling just fine," he said sluggishly. "But I would feel so much better if you would hush now, so that I could rest." I could see in the dimness of the camp's fire the corners of the Elf's mouth turn up in a grin. At least he seems happier tonight.

Leofa chose that moment to stir and cry out just the tiniest bit, as if he were dreaming. I sat up to settle him somewhat. My son soothed right down at the touch of my hand upon his back and the sound of my voice telling him all was well. I adjusted the blanket around his tiny shoulders and whispered a prayer to the Valar, that they keep my precious bundle from harm always. I could not bear it if anything befell my son—it would literally kill me.

I lay back down on my bedroll on my side facing Elrohir, but sat back up quickly, for the sight of the Elf left me cold. Now I knew something was dreadfully wrong with my friend, and I could not wait to get him to Gondor—to Arwen and Aragorn.

I could not help the shiver that ran the length of my spine. Elrohir was lying beside me asleep—with his eyes closed.

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"Elrohir," I declared, as I sat nursing Leofa the following morning. "I want us to break away from the wagon today."

"Why?" Elrohir wanted to know. "Have you had a change of heart? Last I was aware you could not stay far enough away from Gondor. You only go now because you feel an obligation—because Estel is Leofa's father, and he has a right to see him."

"That is true enough," I admitted. "But things change, as do attitudes. I suppose mine has changed some. I wish to go as quickly as we might. I want to make all haste to Minas Tirith. We cannot get there soon enough to suit me now."

"Why this sudden change, Maeren?" he asked me skeptically. "And why do I have a sneaking suspicion it has to do with me?"

"Whatever would give you that idea, Elrohir?" I asked him glibly. "My but aren't we self-centered? Truth be known, the sooner I get to Gondor and get this little visit with Aragorn behind me, the sooner I can get to Rohan—where I truly wish to be!"

He smiled. "I had better not find out otherwise, lady, or there will be retribution to be had."

I smiled in return. "Challenge acknowledged, Elrohir. I do not back down."

"Very well," he said quietly. "We break with the wagon today."

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Thus we began the fifth week of our journey. We were very close to the Gap of Rohan, and I was glad of that. If we rode hard, I thought we could probably make Minas Tirith within a week. But I was afraid if we pushed it that hard then Leofa would be the one to suffer, and I could not do that; not even for Elrohir. I settled for going as quickly as was prudent, and praying constantly to the Valar, that they may see us through until we could get this Elf to the King and Queen. I felt sure there would be something that they could do for him to cure whatever this was. Even as these days went by, Elrohir was looking weaker, yet even as he did so, he denied it every time he was asked.

It took us ten days to reach Minas Tirith, and we rode into the city without fanfare. There was no doubt in my mind, however, that lookouts had been placed for our party for several weeks now, and that we had been announced well before our arrival. We were admitted into the gates without incident and into the seventh circle in the same manner. We were ushered into the Citadel and into the arms of the royal family who had been waiting for us with baited breath it seemed.

All my fears about Elrohir were confirmed the minute I saw Arwen's face as her eyes caught sight of him. I watched as she searched about for her other brother, and then she sought Aragorn's gaze.

"Where is Elladan, Brother?" she asked Elrohir as she looked at him once again.

"He went with Father, Arwen," he told her solemnly.

I thought the Queen might faint when she heard that news.

"And how fare you?" she asked him, deep concern furrowing her brow.

"Very well," he said with a small grin. "Can you not tell?"

Standing a few feet away, I held Leofa who was clapping his hands and smiling. Aragorn noticed him, and tearing his eyes away from Elrohir finally, he walked over to me, wanting to hold Leofa. The baby had grown so much since last his father had seen him.

Leofa, however, did not remember this man and shied away, holding his face into my shoulder and showing his father his red gold mane. Aragorn frowned, a look of hurt on his face.

"Worry not, Aragorn," I hastily informed him. "He has no memory of you. Strangers scare him. It takes him no time to warm up, though, and then you best beware. Once he accepts you, he will give you no rest. You will be expected to play, until you can play no more—and for the rest of the day! Let us go and join Arwen. Perhaps a female presence will help soften him up."

We approached the Queen, who looked up as we neared her. Leofa immediately sensed she was Elven—or had been—once upon a time. His face lit up, and he squealed with delight. He leaned outward toward her as if he'd known her his entire life. So much for stranger shyness.

"Aragorn," I said, trying to convince him I had not been not lying to him, "I swear he never does this. It must be Arwen's resemblance to her father or perhaps to Elladan. They are both two of Leofa's favorites.

Arwen's face lit up, even with her worry over her brother, and she accepted the child that so wanted to be in her arms. She hugged the baby to her breast and rocked him back and forth for a few moments, until he decided he wanted to glance about the room just a bit more. The Queen quickly stole a glance at her husband the King, and her smile was radiant, as was his.

"He is beautiful, Estel," she told him; her voice filled with what I felt was awe. Then, turning to me, she said it again, "Maeren, he's an angel—just breathtaking!"

I said nothing; I only smiled and nodded, my eyes filling with tears.

"Maeren," Arwen began, "may Estel and I take him to our chambers, so Estel can get to know him again? Perhaps Leofa will allow him to hold him?"

Would my heart never cease cringing when it was proposed that the King take my child—even to the next room?

How I wanted to refuse, but I plastered a smile on my face and tried my best to look pleased.

"Of course," I answered. "That would be fine. When he gets cranky, he will simply want to be fed."

"I will send someone straight away to take you to your chambers," Arwen said before leaving the room with the King and my son. "Elrohir, would you please come with us?"Elrohir gave me a sly smirk as he left the room trailing his sister and her husband.

I stood there feeling just the smallest bit miffed—and deserted, I might add. But true to Arwen's word, I did not stand there for long. A servant dressed in the black and silver livery of Gondor's Citadel quickly ushered me to what turned out to be a most opulently furnished room. I thanked the man, who barely acknowledged my presence, and shut the door after he'd gone. I began to look around. In particular I was looking for clues that my son was intended to be in this room with me during our stay.

Call me suspicious, I care not.

I had been doing nothing but thinking since my departure from Imladris—thinking about what I intended to do with my life from now on. And the conclusion I continued to come to was that, whatever I intended to do, I did not intend to do it in Minas Tirith—nor even in Gondor! Let the King put that in his smelly old pipe and smoke it!

I was going home.

Home to Rohan—where I belonged and where I wanted Leofa to grow up. My father was no longer there, but with any luck, his house was still standing. And if his house was not, the house I shared with Dustin was there—if it survived the war. And if neither of them was still upright, my brothers would help me build another—I knew that they would. Yes, I was going home. And nothing and no King was going to stop me.

My brothers were in Edoras—all four of them. From Haedren to Small Saelden, I would kiss every last one of them the minute I set eyes on them! They would be as happy to see me as I would be to see them. We would all help each other, just as we did before I made the hugest mistake of my life and came here to be the Warden in the Houses of Healing in this putrid hole of a city!

I took a deep breath, realizing suddenly that I was letting myself become angry over my perceived dismissal by the royal family. When Arwen and I had parted, I believed we had been friends. To where had that friendship evaporated?

I took another deep breath, trying to calm myself, and also attempting to place myself into the Queen's shoes. Here I was, the woman who'd had a tryst with her husband, and who had conceived a child by him; and I now had a child by her husband, and she did not—and that was something she wanted more than anything. She had told me that herself. She could not wait until she and Aragorn had children of their own. Arwen probably felt not only resentful, but perhaps a bit threatened as well. I laughed to myself. Aragorn walked around in his personal life as if he had his head in a hole, with not a care in the world, when the two women in his life—one because she chose to be, and one because she chanced to be—both felt very insecure and threatened all the time. Where was the justice in this picture?

My anger faded away as I thought about Arwen, and all she'd been through because of what Aragorn and I had done. I could not be angry with her for any reason. The least I could do was to allow her time with my son; let her get to know him if that was her wish. If that meant he was to sleep in their room overnight, then so be it—for the time being. Leofa would be with me to live—I would not give in on that and that was final.

A soft knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts, and I moved quickly to answer it. I knew that whoever it was had Leofa. I could hear him fussing on the other side of the door. Arwen was there, holding my red-faced and drooling son who was sniffling and hiccuping as if he'd been crying for hours. He had one finger in his mouth, which was something he did when he was he was tired and hungry and wanting a nap.

The moment he spied me he leaned outward to me, arms outstretched. I invited Arwen to come in and sit down, as I relieved her of her unhappy burden and cuddled him close.

"He was happy for exactly ten minutes, I would say," Arwen announced dryly. "I am afraid Estel and I have much to learn as far as how to parent children is concerned."

"Worry not," I said soothingly. "It comes to you quickly. And it really aids you if you have plenty of experienced help." I hoped I didn't sound too critical of her choice of leaving me out of their little family gathering earlier, but somehow, I could not help myself when I uttered that statement. I settled in a rocking chair and very quickly had Leofa at my breast nursing. "Why did Elrohir not aid you with him? He usually knows how to pacify Leofa."

"Leofa seemed stressed to be around Elrohir," Arwen said worriedly. "And I must say I cannot blame him too much on that score. My brother is unwell."

"I know he is," I exclaimed, "yet he denies it at every turn. I know Elves do not take ill, so I have been terribly perplexed by what exactly is ailing him, Arwen. I insisted we break with the wagon, so that we may make more haste in arriving here. I knew that if anyone would know what to do for him, you or Aragorn would."

"I fear I know what is wrong," Arwen said sadly, "but there is no cure for what ails Elrohir."

I could not believe my ears. The Eldar had some sort of dread disease that affected them and there was no cure? She had to be jesting with me!

"What are you talking about, Arwen?" I demanded to know.

"It is grief, Maeren," Arwen announced. "Plain and simply grief. I spoke to him as to why Elladan went with Father to Valinor, and he explained it to me, though I have a hard time believing that even being rejected in love would send Elladan away from Elrohir's side."

I looked down into Leofa's face, unable to look at Elladan's sister at the moment. I could not wait until I was out of Gondor and out of this Peredhil family's life forever! I had brought nothing but ill fortune to them from the minute I came into their lives, and the sooner I left the better off they would be. I decided to face the truth now. I would not spend another moment worrying about facing Arwen with the facts about Elladan and me.

"Arwen," I began, "Elladan fell in love with me, but I did not return his love. Do not get me wrong, he is a wonderful Elf, I love him as a dear friend and would do anything for him—but I would not betray your father for him. That is the one thing I could not do.

"Elrond and I became very close, Arwen. I truly love him with all of my heart. He was as a father to me, and I will always mourn my loss of him in my life, just as I mourn the loss of my true father. But your father asked me—asked me with profound sincerity—not to get involved with Elladan when it was obvious that we were growing close. I promised Elrond that I would not. And I kept my promise. It hurt Elladan deeply, and I regret that very much. But I was caught between a rock and a hard place, Arwen. I wanted not to hurt either of them, but in the long run, I believe both will be hurt. And now it appears as if Elrohir will not fare well either."

It suddenly occurred to me that the story I had just told of Elladan and I could also have applied to Arwen and Aragorn. Elrohir had told me of their situation before the war. I already knew how much it had hurt Elrond to allow the marriage, when against all odds, Aragorn had fulfilled his end of the bargain. Aragorn could have walked away from Arwen, as I had walked away from Elladan—yet he had not. He had chosen his love for the Queen over his love for his foster father. What a terrible choice he'd had to make. I was glad my love for Elladan had not been even a fraction as profound as Aragorn's was for Arwen. My choice had been difficult, but not heartbreakingly so.

I lifted Leofa from my breast discreetly and placed him upright, rubbing his back to burp him. He did not disappoint me. A loud belch was forthcoming quite quickly. Arwen and I both laughed.

"It is amazing that such a loud noise can come from such a small source," she said with mirth.

"This child is full of surprises," I said into Leofa's face, as I lifted him toward me. His good humor had been restored and he reached for my face, but I was too quick for him. I pulled him back, making a funny face, and he began to laugh. This made the Queen laugh even harder, listening to the hearty little belly laugh of the baby. It is so precious to behold. I set Leofa to my other breast, and he settled down once again.

"You are a wonderful mother," Arwen said wistfully. "If I can prove to be even half as good a one, I will be happy."

"You forget I have done this before," I said with a bittersweet note in my voice. I thought about Tristin and some of the mistakes I had made when he was a baby. There is nothing like experience to teach you anything in life!

Remembering where our conversation had drifted from, I again brought the subject back to Elrohir.

"Arwen," I said with complete skepticism, "please explain what you mean when you say it is 'plain and simply grief' that has Elrohir looking so sickly."

"I wish it is only that he is looking ill, Maeren," Arwen said with definite fear in her voice. "Elrohir is dying—dying of grief over the loss of his twin."

My face must have looked a mass of disbelief. I sincerely doubted every word she had said. Oh, it wasn't that I doubted that she believed her own words. I simply could not believe that they were true. She had to be under some sort of delusion. Emotionally healthy people such as Elrohir just did not die from grief. That was absurd!

"Arwen," I said, trying to humor her, but at the same time trying not to offend her, "where did you get a ridiculous notion like that?" If I was trying for tact, it didn't seem I had tried very hard.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief—at my disbelief of her, I suppose.

"It is more than a ridiculous notion, Maeren, I can assure you," Arwen told me smugly. I had apparently offended her despite my lame attempt not to do so. "Elves have died of grief since there have been Elves upon Arda! It has been a fact of Elven life since there have been Elves. Just because you have not heard of it, does not make it a ridiculous notion!"

"I am sorry, Arwen," I was quick to reply. "I am the first to admit my ignorance of Elves, and I beg your pardon for any slight I may have given you. Of course anything that is serious enough to cause death is never ridiculous, I just have a difficult time getting my mortal mind to accept such a foreign idea. It is true, Elrohir did not show any signs of this malady until well after we began the journey. I hurried him here to you for your wisdom in healing him, the least I can do is listen to your advisements with an open mind.

"But you have to understand where my words are coming from, Arwen. They are coming from a desperate place in my heart. You sit there and tell me that Elrohir is dying as if it is a matter of fact, and you accept it as if you have no choice. Are you telling me there is nothing to be done for him? Can we not take him to the Gray Havens and set him upon a ship bound West? Once he reaches Elladan and is reunited with him, will that not cure him?"

"While an Elf dying of grief is something known by all Elves, I have never personally been around one who was going through it. My mother began fading, but she was also afflicted with poison from an Orc's arrow, not to mention their torture she was made to endure. I have no experience dealing with an Elf fading from grief. I know not how long the process takes, or whether it can reverse itself once it has begun. I know nothing about it other than it exists, and that my brother is dying from it and there is nothing I can do about it. It scares me to death, and I wish that my father were here. But he is not. There is no one. We are alone with this. I want not to watch Elrohir die, Maeren, but I fear we have no other choice."

Arwen was weeping now, but I could not go to her with Leofa at my breast. He was asleep, so I quickly disengaged him from me and rearranged my clothes, holding him on my shoulder to let any air escape from his stomach before I put him down for a nap. I rose from the rocking chair, and laid Leofa in the center of the bed that was in the room, drawing the quilt that lay across the foot of it up over his sleeping little body. He did not stir, so tired was he.

I went to Arwen, crouching before her where she sat.

"I am sorry, Arwen," I declared. "I cannot accept what you are saying as inevitable. I must at least try to do something. I cannot—I will not—stand by and watch Elrohir die of something as unbelievable as grief. I will carry him to the docks on my own back if it comes to it—I will not watch him die!"

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