I drove five hundred thousand miles
To find a world unlike my own,
And now middle of nowhere seems like my home.

Alone, unknown... Yet fearing nothing but ourselves
Could be scarier than any crowded room.
I'm more alone with you than when I'm by myself.

Another night stuck on the vine,
Another low lit memory
Where time will slowly have it's way with me.

Just you and me not saying much of anything
Sometimes could mean more than a thousand words.
Goodbye, farewell to this world that was my former self.

-The Ataris

The warm water still felt wonderful against his pruned skin as he leaned his head of now clean, dark hair against the back of the tub. Most of the soap suds had dissolved, but a few lingered, covering the rough, scarred skin of his chest and arms. He sighed and stared at the ceiling, trying very hard to think of absolutely nothing. He must have succeeded for suddenly he heard a loud knock on the door followed by a call of, "Estel! Great Eru, are you ever coming out?! You've been in there for an hour!"

He quickly sat up and answered, "Sorry, Elrohir! I'm getting out!" Splashing one last handful of water into his face, he raised himself out of the tub and stood, dripping wet.

Elrohir stood outside the door, tapping his foot and rolling his eyes at Elladan who stood beside him. Elladan smiled and shook his head, leaning against the wall as the door opened and their foster-brother emerged, holding a towel wrapped around his waist. "Sorry Elrohir," he repeated.

"Think nothing of it, brother," said the elf, stepping into the bathroom. "We were simply worried you that you might have drowned or something. I am most pleased to see you alive and well." He shut the door behind him with a teasing smile. The remaining elf chuckled quietly and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Welcome home, Estel."

Aragorn smiled. "I am very glad to see you, Elladan. And Elrohir too, of course," he added, gesturing to the closed door. Elladan smiled and returned these sentiments, beginning to walk down the corridor, toward the human's room.

"I suspect you would like to change into some clean clothes, brother?"

"Aye, thank you," he replied, stepping into his room. Elladan nodded and walked off.

Once alone, Aragorn gave a heavy sigh and looked around at the room he had grown up in, glancing at the collection of books that remained untouched, a notebook of his own writings and drawings that still lay visible under his bed, and his old, small training weapons propped up against a wall near the window. He walked over to it and parted the curtains slightly, staring out at the familiar view of lush gardens, trees, and waterfalls, and in the distance, the mountains of Carahadras. He turned around slowly and stood in the silence of a life long forgotten.

Then he made his way to the wardrobe and inspected some of his old tunics. All were in good condition, though he was not sure if the clothes he had worn at age twenty would still fit him. He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and decided to find out. To his amazement, the first outfit he selected still fit fairly well. He had not grown any taller since then, and he was as lean as ever, though more muscular. He glanced in the mirror and studied the figure before him. It was rare that he saw his own reflection. This man was as tall as an elf and quite thin, wearing a long, fine tunic of emerald green. His hair was still wet, and thus appeared longer and black, contrasting sharply with his pale, weather-worn face, and dark, shadowed eyes. He focused his gaze on the eyes, but they were a dull, grey mask that revealed nothing. Did he know this man?

Aragorn shook his head and shut the door of the wardrobe, reaching his bed in a few steps and collapsing on top of it. He marveled at its softness. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, tracing the familiar lines there. A moment later, a quiet knock was heard, and he sat up, calling for the visitor to enter.

Elladan opened the door to Estel's room to find the man sitting on his bed, legs hanging over the edge, now fully dressed in elvish robes.

"Ah, Elladan," Estel said. "Come in." Elladan noted that his brother sounded relieved it was him and not someone else. Then he noticed how he seemed to be forcing happiness into his voice and face. Something was very wrong. He wondered at himself for not noticing it earlier.

"How do you feel?" he asked, joining him.

Aragorn shrugged. "Tired. But I am feeling much better now."

"Bathing does wonders."

Aragorn tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Have you spoken with Ada yet?"

At the mentioning of Lord Elrond and their conversation, Aragorn's smile faltered. He gave Elladan a sharp nod and stared forward at the wall.

"Did he talk about you and Arwen?" Estel made no reaction to this, and Elladan sensed his brother's extreme discomfort, and continued talking to reassure him. "I'm not angry at you about that, you realize. Yes, it saddens me very much to think that my sister will not be with us in the Valinor, that we must live out the rest of our lives without her. But I have seen you too together, even before you became betrothed, and I know that it is right. I know how much you love her, Estel. She deserves nothing less." This too was met with silence.

Elladan placed an arm around the mortal's back and a sudden gasp, almost a sob, escaped Aragorn. He raised his head upward and sniffed, trying desperately to hold in the unbearable tension and pain inside him. "It's alright," Elladan whispered, rubbing his hand over the man's back. "It's alright, little brother. I'm here. Let it out."

Aragorn shut his eyes tightly and remained still for a moment, then gave in and leaned forward, holding his face in his hands as the tears poured down his face. Elladan tightened his hold on his shoulder, and hugged him to his side to lean against him. Aragorn buried his face in his shoulder, After a few long minutes, his shoulders stopped heaving with sobs, and his tears slowed. He let go of his brother and sat up, rubbing his now red eyes and running a hand through his damp hair. He took a few deep breaths, and then was quiet. Elladan was looking at him with concern and curiosity.

"Thank you, Elladan," he said quietly. Elladan nodded but continued looking at him, head cocked to the side in question. "I just... I don't know. It feels so strange being here again. I feel... out of place."

"Estel, this is your home." Aragorn nodded, but Elladan didn't believe him. "This is your home and you're my little brother. Nothing has changed, no matter how many years have gone by, no matter what choices you've made. Elrohir is still your brother, and Ada is still your father."

"Elladan," said Aragorn, speaking quietly and evenly, determined not to break down again. "I came here hoping all that you say would be true. But it isn't. Lord Elrond is your father, and not mine."

"Did he say as much to you?" Elladan asked. Aragorn gave a curt nod. Elladan fell silent at this, taking in what he had just said. He turned his head away. His father had disowned Estel? How could this be?

"He didn't mean that," said Elladan after a long moment. "He was just so upset because of Arwen and everything. He was very angry, that's all. He knew not what he said."

Aragorn wanted to believe him, but he couldn't. "I have never known your father to act rashly or lose his temper, brother. He has always spoken exactly as he means."

"Yes, he has admirable self-control, but I have known him longer than you, Estel. I have seen him truly angry before. And I tell you, he did not mean that." Again, silence ensued. "He loves you."

"He has no love for me, Elladan!" shouted Aragorn, jumping to his feet. He knew Elladan meant well, but he was growing frustrated. "Estel--yes; he loved Estel. At least, he loved Estel in the way one loves a pet. That is what I was: a clumsy yet cute, helpless, affectionate, obedient little human child! Who would not love that? Of course, I was troublesome at times, but all pets are. But now," he paused, seething, pacing back and forth on the floor. "That pet has grown up, and all too quickly. Now I am neither helpless nor cute, nor affectionate nor even obedient. I am merely a man--a man like any other: weak and selfish and destined to die!"

"Daro, daro! Now it is you who are saying things you do not mean!" cried Elladan, rising to stand before Aragorn and grasping his shoulders. "How can you say that?! Valar! No, it is not even worth going into the absurdity of what you have just said. You were angry, and I can understand that. Surely you must not truly feel that way." He looked at his brother's troubled, tear-stained face and sighed, searching for words. "I know not what to say to you, Estel. Except that, no matter what you may think, I have always, and will always see you as my brother and nothing else."

Aragorn nodded, and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, breathing deeply, feeling his anger dwindle. "Thank you, Elladan. Truly. You're right. I'm sorry for my outburst."

"It's alright," said Elladan. He hesitated. "I still think that you're wrong about Ada. Please give him a chance. Let me talk to him."

Aragorn shook his head. "It won't do any good. Most likely, it will only anger him more. Just forget what I've said here."

"I cannot merely forget this. I never knew you felt this way. I'm sorry if I have ever done anything to attribute to this."

"No, Elladan, you have never-"

"Good," said Elladan, cutting him off. "I do not think Ada realizes how badly he has hurt you. Please, just let me speak with him."

"Do what you will," said Aragorn, giving up. "Though I do not think it will make a difference. He has every right to hate me. As does Arwen."

"Hush, brother. That is not true and you know it." He stared intently into the man's eyes. "Hush. Think no more on this. Now, get some rest."

Aragorn nodded gratefully, and the two hugged each other tightly, before Elladan left him to sleep.