*Siri bounces into the story, all smiles*

Hey everybody! *hugs and candy all around*

*grins happily*

So…have I convinced you not to kill us yet? ;D

Okay I'm SO sorry this is late! It was an accumulation of a lot of things we had to tie up on this story! For one thing we have a trailer on Cassia and Sio's site (see the link in our Special Features) and though it may not be up yet, we had to at least send it to them first. =) Then we also had to tie up the last of our Special Features (which weren't as prewritten as our fic was)! So anyway, we are late! I'm sorry! =( But here it is! The final chapter! The Special Features! The End!

Before I give responses though I wanted to make a general announcement:

Our next story may be a little on the late'ish side, for the simple reason that it's turning into quite a mammoth of a plot and it may take quite a while to write! Please just bear with us: we will try to get it done as fast as possible! Unfortunately with Christmas coming upon us I wouldn't expect it for a while. =) On a happier note, where our story is concerned, it is going to feature (as you will see in the trailer) QUITE a few canon characters as well as a LOT of old OC characters from our previous stories! Including (for all who asked) Eression! =)

Okay responses! Then the post! =D

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Lurker_elf: Eep. Well you know sometimes you can get a chapter to appear by copying the last part of the address (chapter= #) and pasting it at the end and hitting enter! It doesn't always work but sometimes it does! =D *laughs* Aragorn trusts the Force? Well okay maybe ;D Ah yes! Sarah is the brilliant recaller of all injuries in general! We've often thought we should write them down so we don't forget! =D Yes Aragorn definitely needed that kind of release! Yeah! I think that sort of refusal just may be one of those traits passed down through the generations! =D *laughs* Yeah well Sarah and I really couldn't help ourselves! There really aren't a lot of possible *safe* uses for such characters. We rather liked the idea of them having a Black Numenorean among them! Oh I'm glad you liked Eression! He sort of became *my* character and Sarah let me write almost all his scenes! She's so great! =D I'm really glad you liked their conversation so much as well! That scene wrote itself really, I just love it when scenes do that ;) LOL! I'm positive that's the reason! Wouldn't that make YOU want to stay a ranger? ;D {Lurker_elf: There's not really much more you could do to them, after all.} *Siri looks up from where she was about to drop Elladan off a cliff* I— wha—? *quickly pulls him back from the edge* Oh yes…nothing at all! =D

Belothien: *laughs* Well maybe we should just kill bad guys next time! =D Yeah, I know *I* don't like orcs. Ew, nasty little gremlins. ;D LOL! Yeah well Eression may just find it in him to joke…as long as he doesn't hang out with Bartho too much…hmm… ;) Yes Special Features…we got pretty goofy all right ;)

Hyro-Tyre: Yes! Well I really like writing these moments. They are quite a bit easier to write than the hectic battle scenes that's for sure! ;) *laughs* Poor Stavhold! Well, I'm glad you liked Eression! =D Why is Malvegil so elvish? Huh, not sure; maybe there's a story there =D Why a spoon? ;D Oh yes! Special Features to come! *smothers a giggle*

Karina: LOL! No you are NOT dumb! We sort of buried it a little too well in retrospect, I think since WE knew we figured everyone else would too! Funny how that works ;) Really it was mostly their eyes that they had in common…and since EVERYONE in Middle Earth seems to have 'silver eyes' that' s not much of a giveaway ;D Yes, I think Aragorn is fully justified in a little crying after all that! *laughs* Yeeah, he *might* get into less trouble, but with his brothers you never know. ;) A hint of friendship? Ah maybe! =D Mora was probably right, eventually, but Aragorn likely didn't need too much prompting! ;)

Lady Sandry: Oh goody! You liked Eression too! :D He was a great character to write and I'm glad we've got him safely placed with the Dúnedain now! That is a very interesting point about calling Aragorn by titles! And very true as well, especially since Eression has called his father 'lord' for who knows how long! Oh no! No overanalyzing! Trust me: I am impossible about that. I always overanalyze and find it very enjoyable to read! =D Yes the shoulder thing has always been a nice alternative to that. I'm glad you liked that scene! =) I'm sorry about the sleeves! =D

Carrie_S: Oh I am so glad you liked Eression! Yes he had several close scrapes with death, but really you can't just kill characters like him! =) Yes Erybenn lived! For once the younger character wasn't doomed! =D Yep! Another story is in the planning! :D

Mariana Nimeneth: Sorry about your headache there! ;) Not gonna happen much anymore in all likelihood. =D Sounds as the Nwel has plenty of time on his hands! ;D Oh yes. He's so mean. *rolls eyes* Mariana, I'm not sure your safe with any of that stuff ;)

Cassia: *dissolves into a blush and mumbles something that sounds like 'coconut cream sea' but was actually 'thank you Cassia'* ;D I'm so glad you liked the wrap-up chapter! It came out quite a bit longer than we had originally planned (isn't that ALWAYS the way? ;) I'm glad it didn't get boring! Yes Eression's in for some FAR better training! And (as it would seem) he all ready has a couple who are willing to help in that. =) Yes thank you again SO much for letting us use Mora! He's such a great character and I wish we had had more opportunities to use him, but unfortunately we all ready had a lot we had to do to our other characters ;D

sabercrazy: …or I should say…Elrond…

Elrond: I'm…uh…glad to hear she'll be okay…deary me…well we didn't MEAN to! *hides* Uh…we didn't mean to hurt your sons either! If you read our account of the tale you will see that it was clearly all the nasty orcs doing! Oh and don't worry, they'll live! They will and will be home…uh…very soon! Yes! Very VERY soon actually! =D Don't you worry! *hides again*

Anarril: On Erynbenn: yes, he's alive! On Idhrin: sorry, he's not.

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Well thank you so much everyone who has read our stories and given us so much wonderful feedback! We are thrilled that you enjoyed the story so much and told us so and we appreciate all your praise and criticisms! Thank you all so much for taking the time!

So we hope we'll catch you all next time!

Note: Yes, we will again be sending alerts to all of those whose e-mail addresses we can find. If your addy isn't in your bio, but you'd like an e-alert, please include it with your feedback! :)

Enjoy!

*Sarah and Siri/Hannah bow theatrically and exit Stage Left*

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Darkest Night

By Sarah and Hannah (Siri)

(disclaimers, explanations, and summaries

available at the top of chapter 1)

Chapter 19

Entulesse: The Return

Glorfindel did not often perform the duties of border look-out, but these were strange times.

The black clouds in the west had disappeared with the swiftness of ice in Harad. No longer was there a single sign of the long darkness that had blighted the sunsets. The horrific stories of dark things stalking the northern woods had dwindled to little more than a constant topic for storytelling amongst those few Bree-landers who claimed to have seen one at a distance. And what was more, one of the rangers had presented himself at the gates with the miraculous news that his captain had succeeded in rescuing the Lord Elrond's sons.

That last event had occurred nearly a month ago, and by now Elladan and Elrohir ought to have been well enough to travel home.

Deciding a higher vantage point might be useful, the elven warrior took a light step up to balance on the lower branches of a lofty pine. The needles hid him well and the view between the spoke-like levels of branches was good. Settling in to wait in silent stillness, Glorfindel grew still.

"Will you never walk into Rivendell on your own two feet?"

Glorfindel smiled. The voice was distant, but it was familiar. As was the lecture.

A second voice continued the sentiment with unconcealed worry, "As your brother, you know, I have a responsibility for you. What do you think Father will say if I bring you in bloody, coated in mud, and half dead… again? I've nearly run out of excuses."

"Father? For the love of the Valar—" a third party began, his tone affronted. Obviously he was one of the ones being scolded.

"No, he's right!" the first voice cut in again. "This is serious; do you have any idea how much he worries about you? Worries for us pale in comparison! At least we avoid mischief *some* of the time."

"Whereas you, well — can you never not touch?" the second voice demanded.

"It was all that rain that did the mischief!" a new fourth voice interrupted. The other one being scolded. "You know perfectly well it was no fault of ours. And I didn't touch anything; you are weaving a fantasy."

"Well," the second voice muttered, "we shall simply have to wait and see what Father says when he has to patch you both up. One thing is certain: he won't let you out of bed for at least a week. And in the meanwhile the both of us shall make absolutely certain that pillows are forever being launched at your heads, that arguments shall follow you wherever you attempt to sleep, and that when you are finally proved *incapable* of rest in such an environment, you are forced to swallow something noxious that completely deprives you of all consciousness for a month."

This tirade proved too much for the first voice, which broke down into peals of merry laughter. Laughter that almost drowned out the simultaneous indignant cries of, "Estel!"

A party of five riders came through the trees. The first voice was revealed to be a still laughing wood elf; the second voice a disheveled, but otherwise fit looking ranger; and the third and fourth to be elven twins, alike in face, in voice, and in the amount of thick mud that appeared to cover them from heads to toes. The fifth party, also an elf, had not spoken, but he was laughing now along with the wood elf.

Glofindel waited until they were passing almost directly beneath him, then spoke softly, recalling his words to the Dúnadan at their last meeting, "It seems much darkness has now fled the earth; perhaps pleasant speech has returned to fill its place?"

"Glorfindel!" Aragorn cried in delight.

Legolas attempted a similar greeting, though he and Moranuen were still laughing when they began speaking and thus their formal salutations were marred beyond repair. Elladan and Elrohir were still glaring at their brother and his friend, though it was difficult to tell under all the mud.

The elven warrior found himself laughing as well, the steel in his eyes softening to something far friendlier as he returned Aragorn's embrace. Humans had a certain impetuosity he sorely missed in his own kind.

Legolas did not dismount, for he was sitting behind Elladan. Moranuen had similarly taken a position behind Elrohir, and the twins' riderless horses — also mud-covered — trailed behind Aragorn at the end of their tethers.

"I was considered too heavy to share my saddle," Aragorn explained ruefully, gesturing back at them. "We wished to be home before nightfall and we couldn't afford to slow the horses."

"Dare I ask what happened? I understood that you were intending to delay your return until Elladan and Elrohir were well enough to travel." Glorfindel noticed with concern that the twins were in fact clean in a few places — but all of those places were bandaged.

Elladan snorted, "The rain happened."

"It had been raining for nigh on a month, though," said Glorfindel in puzzlement.

"Exactly," said Elrohir. "The constant rain had eroded most of the mountain paths on the way here. But it had begun to dry out, and we made good time anyway."

"Until that little cloud burst this morning," Aragorn supplied. "The extra damp was just too much for the trail we were taking and the moment Elladan and Elrohir reached the spot, the whole path sloughed right out from under them."

"They were only *mostly* healed, sir," said Moranuen. "The fall didn't kill the horses, but it did manage to break Elladan's leg afresh, and Elrohir received a broken foot he hadn't had to begin with. Not to mention all the damage from the rocks that went down with them."

"It took so long to get them out that we didn't have time to stop in the Bruinen and wash ourselves." Legolas tilted his head thoughtfully towards Elladan in front of him. "Do you think Celboril will mind?"

Both twins snorted.

Though Aragorn had begun to feel home the moment Rivendell had appeared on the horizon, he had to admit that there was a good deal of distance between the elven country's borders and the Last Homely House itself. At the slow pace they had adopted, and with the valley's own pathways being none-too firm after the recent rain, once they left Glorfindel behind they had still another two hours of riding to do.

Aragorn took the lead and from time to time he looked back over his shoulder, as if to reassure himself that the twins were still there. For all the laughter and all the jesting, he still could catch glimpses of old scars behind his brothers' eyes. He wished now only to return them home as soon as might be. And besides that, he knew all too well from experience what this ride must be doing to the battered elves.

After catching Aragorn's backward glance nearly ten times in as many minutes, Legolas gave a short sigh. The human needed a chance to leave his worrying behind, and there was little opportunity of doing so at their current pace.

"Aragorn," the wood elf called, "what if you were to ride on ahead and alert your father that we are coming? You will be able to help him lay out whatever materials he needs to piece your brothers back together again."

Elladan snorted again and Aragorn gave a small smile before a frown creased his forehead. "I don't know, Legolas, I wouldn't like to leave you all here with two elves to a horse. If you were set upon—"

"By whom?" Legolas demanded. "You are suggesting there are creatures in Middle Earth who do not immediately drop weapons and run at the sight of Glorfindel's glare?"

"Well…" the ranger began dubiously.

"Well nothing, Strider, off with you. The horses need seeing to anyway and we'll be there ourselves within an hour, if I'm not much mistaken."

"As you command, Prince Legolas," Aragorn bowed theatrically in his saddle. "Keep my brothers out of the mud, will you?"

Ignoring all sounds of protest from Elrohir, the Dúnadan started his horse down the trail at a quick pace, disappearing within moments.

Legolas exhaled with satisfaction, "Good."

"Why did you want to get rid of Estel?" Elladan asked curiously.

The blond haired elf glanced at the elder twin, unsure of whether or not to pass on his reasons. "He was getting fidgety," he said, trying a half truth.

"Legolas," Elladan said warningly, "you may not be my brother, but I haven't known you all these years without discovering what a bad liar you are."

"I was not lying!" Legolas protested, readjusting his seat as his horse stumbled slightly in a loose patch of sand. In front of him Elladan stiffened with the jolt, his face paling beneath the dirt. "And you're not well."

"*You* are changing the subject."

"Actually, I am doing just the opposite."

Elladan exhaled slowly. "I see." He cocked his head over his shoulder, "So that's it then? I should have known he would blame himself for this… And we thousands of years his senior too."

"You're not the only one who feels responsible for others, you know," Legolas pointed out.

The other elf shook his dark head sadly, "The foolish boy."

Legolas sighed and shook his own head, "No, Elladan, not foolish, and not even a boy, no matter how confusing it may be for us to see it. By joining the Dúnedain, even on a temporary basis, you placed yourselves in with his men, and his men are his responsibility. Furthermore, you are his brothers. There is a bond between you that stretches both ways. Just as you have always come for him, so he will always come for you, and to do less would be to undo his love for you. Perhaps you would not think ill of him for giving up when it seemed there was nothing left to hope for, but he would think ill of himself and it would destroy him ultimately."

Elladan was silent. "You speak with much knowledge, Legolas," he said after a while.

"I've had much time to think about it."

"And you are right," Elladan shook his head slowly, knowing a faster motion would be painful.

"Do not worry over it — I have no intention of causing a relapse of that fever you had." Legolas sighed. "Your father will be upset enough as it is."

Carefully, Aragorn closed the stable doors behind him. He had whittled away at the lead on his brothers while tending to the horses and no longer could he put off a meeting with his father if they were to make any preparations for the twins' injuries.

The human was uncertain as to the cause of his nervousness. Nindalf, upon delivering the message of Elladan and Elrohir's rescue, had brought back word of Elrond's joy and his gratitude towards the Dúnedain. But all the same, his father had not seen the twins. Greatly recovered they might be, but underneath the mud they were still but shadows of their former selves. Aragorn could only hope that time would restore them, for if Elrond had to wait upon the docks of the Gray Havens and bid farewell to yet more of those dearest to him… The ranger did not even wish to finish the thought. Would his father be so grateful when he saw what his adopted son had been too slow to prevent?

Immersed in his tangled thoughts, Aragorn did not realize where his feet had taken him until a soft question met his ears.

"What news, Ranger?"

Aragorn's head came up, a sense of déjà vu tugging at him. That question… But Elrond was not on the balcony this time; he was standing in the doorway in front of him, and there was a gentle smile on his face.

Feeling warmth pour through him, Aragorn gave his familiar answer, "News of the Dúnedain, Lord Elrond, and of your sons."

Taking two swift steps forward, Elrond embraced his youngest son tightly.

Slowly the last of Aragorn's tension melted away, leaving him feeling weary but safe. His father's familiar smell and the feel of his strong arms within sleeves of brown velvet wakened countless memories in the ranger's heart and reassured him. Here and now he finally saw that whatever happened, he knew he had done his utmost… and that it was enough.

"They are with Legolas and Moranuen, not far behind me," Aragorn said into Elrond's shoulder, feeling the arms tighten around him again with relief.

When Elrond finally released the ranger, there were tears standing in his eyes. "Well did I name you, Estel. You did not give way even when I despaired."

"Father, do not speak so," Aragorn shook his head. "You were intentionally trapped in a cruel decision you could not have hoped to make without loss. And it was only through a miracle that I was provided with the means of finding them."

"Miracles seem to follow you," Elrond said with a smile.

"You may not say so when you see Elladan and Elrohir."

The lord of Rivendell caught the human's chin gently in one hand, "I speak so now, regardless. Against all resistance you brought your brothers out of that northern hell, and this while your own life was already in jeopardy." Elrond's voice grew firm, "Whatever the cost — and I have already prepared myself that it was heavy — they are yet alive. Where there is life, there is hope, Estel."

Aragorn nodded. Slowly he frowned, "What about where there is mud?"

Elrond's eyebrows rose. "Dare I ask?"

"You probably will not have to. With all the time it took to get here and stable the horses, they shall likely be here within the next fifteen minutes or so. I had hoped to help you prepare for their arrival."

The elf nodded in agreement, "What all do they require?"

Aragorn ran over the mental list he had compiled, "Bandages, most of your herbal stores, fresh clothing, food, and soap and warm water of course." His voice changed subtly, "Above all, I think they need you, Father."

Elrond glanced at the ranger keenly. "Why do you think so?"

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably, "It is more instinct than anything very solid. I was not even born — I do not have any idea what the three of you suffered — but I think they have been having nightmares about… well, about their… I mean, about your—"

"Celebrian?" Elrond suggested, the name a mere breath.

The human sighed, "Yes. These may well have been the same orcs. In a moment of vulnerability Elladan once tried to describe how he and Elrohir found — her — and if it was anything akin to when I found them…" He shuddered, his right hand rubbing his left arm absently as if he were cold. "I shall not soon forget it." There was a pause while the ranger's blue eyes grew hooded. "It does not matter. That aside, I do not know precisely what transpired during their captivity. I am unsure if they will ever tell anyone fully, but they will not even tell me a portion of it. I am their younger brother. The instinct to keep me safe is too deeply ingrained." His shoulders slumped tiredly as he moved past his father to enter the house. "They need you. That is all."

"And you, Estel?"

Aragorn paused mid-step.

Elrond remained standing the doorway, now silhouetted against the clean light outside. "What do you need?"

A tired smile graced the ranger's lips. "To be home, Father. Only to be home."

Epilogue

Elrond smelled the evening air appreciatively, feeling grateful that, though cool, there was no hint of rain on the wind. It had been a few weeks since he had first had his sons returned to him. He reflected for a while on that moment of reunion; but joy — like pain — has a blurring effect on past events. He recalled only the feeling of their thin shoulders within the circle of his arms and the sound of laughter through tears at their mud-spattered state. It had been a relief to laugh again. There had been murmured words of affection, a few attempts at an explanation. Moranuen had held the horses, a participant even through his smiling silence. Legolas had stood by Aragorn, his hand lightly on his friend's shoulder, and a glitter of tears in his gray eyes even as he pointed out to Elrond the fact that neither twin had managed to enter Rivendell on his own two feet.

The memory wavered in and out again, like a reflection seen in water, and Elrond closed his eyes briefly. A silent thanks he sent Ilúvatar for all three of his sons, and for their friends — both elves and Dúnedain.

On soundless feet he approached the other lone figure at the balcony railing.

"What are you doing awake?" the elf lord asked softly. "Your leg may be healed, but you're really not well enough to go walking about so early like this."

"Aragorn and Legolas have too much time on their hands," came the cryptic response. "They claim justification on the basis that Elrohir and I never let them sleep in peace. But nailing my house slippers to the floor is rather more serious than anything *we* could have concocted."

Elrond stifled a chuckle, trying a sympathetic glance on his eldest, "That does sound ill-behaved of them. I do wonder, though, how they managed to do any hammering without waking you up…"

Elladan's eyebrows lifted, "You made our tea this morning, Ada. You above all should know."

Another chuckle threatened to reveal itself. "I did no such thing. Aragorn offered to make your tea this morning."

"The little liar."

"I did not lie!" Aragorn protested, stepping at that moment from behind a decorative pillar behind them. "I told you it was Father's tea — I never said that he had made it. You assumed."

"Very well, I assumed," Elladan sighed. "Will you at least do me the courtesy of unpinning my property from the floor?"

"Already done," Aragorn replied, producing the prized slippers from behind his back with a flourish. "It may interest you to know that the idea was Elrohir's and the plot Legolas'; I only carried it out. And we really did not expect you to fall on your face like that."

"You are not too far gone to reform, I see," Elrond remarked dryly.

Aragorn inclined his head with a smile, "Thank you, Father. Do not worry, the prank was in honor of Legolas' departure tomorrow. I shall be better behaved from here on. Besides, Elrohir accidentally drank the dregs of Elladan's tea and shall not be with us until tomorrow morning, at the earliest."

"He is jesting," Elrohir snorted, entering from the direction of the gardens with Legolas just behind him. "But I will cut him short now. Aragorn, Bartho and Erynbenn are outside."

The dour-faced ranger looked up and almost smiled at the sight of the twins walking briskly across the courtyard. "It is good to see you both on your feet."

"It is good to be here," Elladan smiled.

Aragorn greeted the ranger with a serious expression, "What news?"

"Wolves," Bartho stated briefly. "A large pack heading south. Halbarad thinks they need a wider feeding range, now that winter is coming on. With some of the men still recovering…"

Aragorn nodded, a small sigh escaping him. He had hoped to be able to stay in Rivendell a week longer, but it seemed duty — as ever — had other plans. "Yes, it would be best if I returned." His head came up and he slowly took in the small group of elves standing about him. Not a one of them protested his decision, understanding where his responsibility lay.

"Is the need too urgent for you to delay your departure until tomorrow morning?" Elrond asked.

Erynbenn thought a moment. "I do not believe so; we made better time than we had expected. Still, we would not wish to impose upon your hospitality, Lord Elrond."

The elf shook his dark head, smiling slightly, "You would have to ask for a great deal before you could be considered an imposition, and even that would be but a very small portion of the debt that stands between us."

Bartho shook his head, "Speak not of debts and we shall accept your offer."

The day was a quiet one, partly for Elladan and Elrohir's benefit — though both twins protested that if their father had not threatened them so sternly, they would assuredly have been making their preparations to return with the three Dúnedain.

"We've seen those hobbits of yours," Bartho mentioned casually from where he sat at the edge of the Bruinen. "Malvegil and Eression stumbled into their garden by accident not five days after you left us."

"What happened?" Aragorn asked.

"Appledore ran them off his land with a pitchfork for trampling his mushroom patch," Bartho said. "It left Malvegil rather disconcerted because, of course, he was supposed to be showing Eression the lay of the land. Not a very good example of his skills."

"No," Aragorn admitted. Then asked tentatively, still unsure how Eression's welcome amongst the Dúnedain had been taken by his brothers, "How is Eression?"

Bartho shrugged, "As well as can be expected."

"He has some good qualities," Erynbenn agreed thoughtfully, twisting a strand of grass absently between his fingers, "but his moral compass is not full north. Though he has not the love of violence that marks an orc, still he has the calculating mind that deals more in numbers than in people. If he can learn to value those whom he is helping to protect then he will be a welcome asset."

"The Valar know there are too few of us as it is," said Bartho.

"He is recovering from his father's death then?" Legolas queried.

"Aye. He'd already left most of his sorrow in that tower. It is a pity we could not raze it before we left."

"Yes," Elladan concurred, his voice withdrawn.

Aragorn glanced sidelong at the elder twin, the single word sending a jolt down his spine. There was pain behind Elladan's eyes — endless pain as dark as the night sky and as unfathomable as the stars. For a moment, sitting on the banks of the Bruinen in the sunlight, the elf had been drawn away back to the caves which he now visited only in his nightmares. Across from him, Elrohir was staring off across the water, not wishing to meet the eyes of his companions.

In such times as these Aragorn almost wondered if men had not been granted the better bargain in life: to accumulate only a few hundred years worth of happiness and suffering before being taken away to their halls of rest. Elves had been granted instead the entire length and breadth of time, unbroken by any natural end. On they lived, and on, and on, while the trees grew and faded and renewed themselves. And sitting beside his brother, seeing ever so briefly in the dark eyes the compilation of all the elf's worst memories, spanning the endless years… Aragorn wished with all his heart that he could take his place.

But that choice at least was not given him. Gently he touched Elladan's forearm, noticing peripherally that the others were no longer speaking. "El?" The slight tilting of the elf's head was the only indication that he was listening.

"You are here," Aragorn said, not truly understanding why he said it; why it was so important that Elladan understand him.

Elladan blinked slowly, drawing in a breath and letting it out again. His attention seemed to focus briefly on Elrohir, and then he turned his head back to his human brother. "You are right, Estel," he said.

As he had blinked his eyes had cleared and now Aragorn could see nothing in them but a faint weariness to mar the usual strength which glowed there. Endless years the elf had behind him, but the memories of those years had only the power which he chose to give them.

"I hear Celboril," Elrohir murmured, his own gaze finally leaving the river and turning back towards the house. "And I do not believe that is his 'honey wafers and milk' voice."

"It sounds more like his 'who has been raiding the larder' voice," Elladan agreed.

Legolas chuckled softly, "Should we flee or face his wroth?"

"Flight has never been terribly effective," Elladan sighed. "Besides, if Elrohir and I so much as consider the idea of swimming the Bruinen, Father will swoop down upon us and show us how ineffective avoiding punishment can truly be."

"It has been quiet for too long anyway," Elrohir shrugged, rising to his feet. "Besides, if he's wondering who made off with the last of his raspberry dressing, I happen to know that Father had it on his oven cakes this morning."

Legolas patted the neck of his horse gently. On the other side of the animal, Aragorn was quiet, lost in his thoughts as the morning mist dampened his boots.

"Mellon nin?" Legolas asked softly. "What is it?"

Aragorn shook himself. "I have not thanked you really…"

"Oh, Aragorn," the wood elf smiled, shaking his head. His hand reached out to rest on the human's shoulder, his gray eyes finding Aragorn's blue ones. "I shall miss you, my friend."

"And I you."

"Is there any hope of your becoming lost in between Rivendell and Mirkwood again? I should be happy to rescue you."

"Your jests are becoming impoverished, Legolas. Do you really see me finding time to become so lost as you suggest?"

"But someday?"

"Yes, someday." Aragorn's hand came up to grip his friend's forearm. "Someday. I promise."

"Namárië for now, then," Legolas smiled, mounting his horse and directing it out of the stable with a gentle command. "I shall travel happily knowing you are all well behind me."

Only a few hours later, with renewed promises from the twins that they would join him soon, Aragorn and the other Dúnedain also made their way beyond Rivendell's borders.

"It will be good to have you back," Erynbenn said.

Aragorn inhaled deeply, "I shall be glad to return."

"You say that," Bartho warned, "but you have not yet seen this new wolf pack. They've traveled in from the colder regions and stand a good deal taller than the ones we normally face. If we do not have several months without sleep ahead of us, I shall turn in my sword and become a Breeland innkeeper."

"Great Valar, do not even whisper such thoughts!" Erynbenn exclaimed in mock horror. "You send the hobbits scattering as it is. And for all your pessimism you must have noticed that the sun is shining."

Bartho cast a practiced eye skyward, "I wouldn't trust it. There are clouds in the east and a westerly wind — I would predict more rain by tomorrow evening."

"I shall take your word because I have never seen you proved wrong," Erynbenn said, "but I should like to know: is there anything in Middle Earth that you *do* trust?"

Bartho eyed the younger man for a moment, his heavily furrowed brow contracting. "Aragorn. Halbarad. You," he grunted frankly. Then he urged his horse on ahead of his companions until he was out of earshot.

Erynbenn stared for a moment, his lips slightly parted in surprise.

Even though Aragorn had not turned his eyes from the trail ahead of him, he smiled at his companion's bewilderment. "Come, we have a long way to go before dark. There is work to be done."

The other ranger sighed, shaking his head as if attempting to clear it. "Does it never end?" he asked dryly.

Aragorn's eyes swept the surrounding horizon, from the east where Legolas would be wending his way home, to the west where the residents of Hobbiton would now be waking.

"Never."

'If Gondor, Boromir, has been a stalwart tower, we have played another part. Many evil things there are that your strong walls and your bright swords do not stay. You know little of the lands beyond your bounds. Peace and freedom, do you say? The North would have known them little but for us. Fear would have destroyed them. But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from the sunless woods, they fly from us. What roads would any dare to tread, what safety would there be in quiet lands, or in the homes of simple men at night, if the Dúnedain were asleep, or were all gone into the grave?

And yet less thanks have we than you. Travelers scowl at us, and countrymen give us scornful names. "Strider" I am to one fat man who lives within a day's march of foes that would freeze his heart, or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly. Yet we would not have it otherwise. If simple folk are free from care and fear, simple they will be, and we must be secret to keep them so. That has been the task of my kindred, while the years have lengthened and the grass has grown.'

— Aragorn, The Fellowship of the Ring

End

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