Chapter 2

Nendil, an elf who had been in the same hunting party as Elrohir and Elladan that morning hurried down the corridor, he was one of the many elves who were there, who actually had a purpose for hurrying. In his arms he cradled a small human child. The child looked so fragile, so easy to hurt. This child should never have had to experience a day such as this.

Flashback

The hunt had started out very quietly that morning, there was no game to see anywhere and the forest which was usually alive with birds chirping and courting each other and rays of sun beaming down between the rustling foliage of the trees. But it was not so today. Today everything seemed to have quieted down, as if anticipating something, something terrible. The elves had of course felt it, but had continued on.

Suddenly they had all heard a high-pitched scream in the distance, shattering the silence of the morning in a thousand pieces. Following the sound they had sped off in the direction of the sound. The sight which greeted them there was terrible. A camp full of humans; men, women and children, and it was looking like it was trying to tear itself apart as fast and effectively as possible. It was not the camps inhabitants who did the tearing apart though; the orcs did that fine by themselves. Rather the men of the camp tried to chase the orcs away, while the women tried desperately to escape with their children. The many corpses on the ground told the sad story of many who had not made it, far too many lay there, and more were coming every second.

The slaughter had made him feel sick, but there had been no time for that, for as soon as they arrived and saw the extent of the destruction, they joined the battle.

Immortal blood was spilt that day, some who were not born to die, whom age and disease could not touch were slain. But even more humans were between the casualties. Their spirits fled the confines of their broken bodies. After the orcs had fled, not able to withstand the joined forces of the humans and the elves, the forest grew quiet once again, only this time it was not in nervous anticipation, this time the forest were mourning for her fallen sons, and the gentle Dúnedain who had often passed beneath her trees, she mourned for the loss of life that had occurred this morning.

The few survivors set about the appalling task of going through all the bodies on the ground, looking for survivors and identify the fallen. Among the fallen they found one of the twins of Imladris, he lay on the ground, his heart beating rapidly and his breath coming in short gasps, on his tunic a crimson stain was quickly spreading.

Elladan was by his brother in an instant, scooping him up in his arms cradling him like a small child. He hurried towards his own horse, all the while talking to his brother so that he would not loose his grip on the conscious world. Elladan mounted his horse with the help of one of the other elves in the company, and hurried home to Imladris, He knew Elrohir wouldn't last long without treatment, not when he was so bad already. Perhaps he wouldn't survive long even with the treatment, but Elladan would never forgive himself if he tarried and Elrohir died, even if he could not have been saved no matter ho swift he was, the doubt would always be there.

The rest of the elven company, six elves in all now that Elladan and Elrohir had left, searched the rest of the camp for survivors along with the few Dúnedain who had survived.

Nendil had been the one to find the human child, he was cradled protectively in his dead mother's arms, he had been remarkable calm for one so young he had not cried during this entire ordeal, that had been what saved him. He had started to cry heartbrokenly though when they took him from the still warm arms of his mother. He was the only child to have survived the day, the only survivors of the Dúnedain were men, and there were only nine of them left now, also counting the child.

Nendil had called to the man nearest to him, wanting to identify the child.

"This is Aragorn, and the woman is his mother, Gilraen. His father has already been found... He's over there, dead" The man sounded like he was on the brink of tears, and who could blame him? Most of the surviving men had had wives, and some had even had children, now their lives were shattered, their future had been crushed, like glass breaking into a thousand pieces. The future was never so certain as you think, every moment representing the risk of dreams shattered as easily as a child's toy.

End of flashback

Nendil had carried the child since then, had carried him home and now he was making his way to his own rooms where he intended to care for the small being he had found earlier. He had tried to care for small beings before; he had often cared for his little sister. He didn't imagine it would be much different with this human boy.

As soon as they reached Nendil's rooms he called upon one of the house servants and asked for some hot water, clean rags and some fruit. The maiden complied and went, swiftly retrieving the things the other elf had asked for. When she returned she saw Nendil sitting on the floor, making funny faces to amuse the child in front of him. A small giggle escaped her, the sight of the dignified warrior acting out was simply too funny.

Nendil rose, quickly regaining his dignity, and with a curt nod of thanks, accepted the requested items. The maiden quietly disappeared from the door where she had been standing and turned back towards the main house.

When he was sure she had left Nendil went to the bathroom adjacent to his own room and put down the tray the maiden had brought him, then went back to the bedchamber where the boy was still sitting on the floor where he had left him.

"Now, first we will give you a hot bath Pen Eglan Forsaken One and then I will make you some food. How is that?"

The child just looked up at him with big blue eyes, but said nothing, probably too frightened by this entire situation that he did not understand. Nendil just smiled kindly down at the small child in his arms, and carried him out into the bathroom and started changing the dirtied diaper. Then proceeded to bathe him and finishing off by making the small child eat some of the food that had been brought. By that time the child had forgotten that anything was out of the ordinary and was prattling happily, but tiredly, all the time.

When the child had finished eating he yawned and looked at Nendil with dim eyes. Nendil chuckled to himself "and now you would probably like me to tuck you in and sing to you until you fall asleep" At the mention of this Aragorn reached up with his arms, imploring the elf to lift him off of the chair he was sitting on and do as he had said.

"Well, I guess that's settled then" Nendil said, not able to contain his mirth at the child's display, he missed being around children. Perhaps it was time he gathered his courage and asked Amruniel to marry him, they had after all been courting for quite a while, and with these thoughts he began to tuck in the child.

Soon after Aragon was sleeping soundly and Nendil was left to ponder about how to ask that special one.

Both Elrond and Elladan were totally drained as they finally allowed themselves to relax, but it did not mean a thing, because they had done it, they had saved him. Elrohir was no longer roaming the borders of death. He no longer sat on the threshold of Mandos great Halls of Waiting, he was safe and that was all that mattered.

After a while of sitting thus, just delighting in their success, the door suddenly creaked open. "My Lords" the elf maiden who had entered said, "Do you want something to eat?"

They both smiled and gladly accepted...

The next day Elrond had called all the elves from the hunting party yesterday and the surviving Dúnedain to meet him in the great hall. Nendil had kept the small forgotten child in his rooms for the night, since no one seemed to miss the boy, and he did not know where he should take the child.

Elrond heard each of them tell what he had seen and what had happened; the tale was not a happy one.

In the end the second in command, after Arathorn who had died in the battle, bowed to Elrond, requesting permission to speak, which was immediately granted.

"The child who was saved yesterday is the son of Arathorn and Gilraen; he is of direct descend of the kings of old. But none of us have a proper home to offer him, and furthermore we do not think he would be safe with us." The man breathed in deeply to calm himself "We know it is much to ask, but we feel it would be best this way, we feel it would be best if he was raised here in Imladris, not knowing about his heritage. If every one believes him dead he will not be in danger, for the forces of evil will try to eliminate the lines of kings, as they almost succeeded in yesterday. We beg you, My Lord; keep him here in your fair land, let some elven family raise him as simply another human child, he will be safe that way."

Elrond looked at the nervous man, then at the child standing next to Nendil, one of his most trusted guards. The child looked so scared, so fragile, so easy to harm. Elrond suddenly felt an urge to protect this child to keep harm from coming to him. He had not felt so alive since Celebrían had left.

"I think not" Elrond said only to be interrupted by the Dúnedain who had spoken before, "But, My Lord..." But when Elrond raised his hand the man went silent and fixed his eyes to the floor at his feet.

"I think not" Elrond repeated "I think it would be wiser to raise him in my own house." At that the Dunèdain captain looked up again, then he bowed low to the elven lord.

"Thank you, My Lord. He could ask for no better home"

Flashback

Lasneth had been sleeping when her loved one, Nathrond had left to go with the twins on a hunting trip, but not soon after she had risen and went to a small lake close to the borders of Imladris enjoying a day with her friends, swimming in the water and watching the swans glide gracefully past them.

They had been singing and telling tales of old, sad and happy alike. The sun had been glinting in the surface of the water and the flowers had scented sweetly in the warm air. Everything had been so quiet; the only thing that disturbed it was a slight cooling breeze. It had truly been a wonderful day.

The maidens had not returned before late in the evening when the stars were out, having allowed the sun to rest, promising to shine and keep the world from sinking into complete darkness, as they did every night. The stars were bright and shining like small silver drops in the sky. The stars never changed.

Lasneth had longed so much to see her beloved, he had left while she was still sleeping, and she longed to see his face once again, to let him know of her undying love, and hear him utter the same words to her. They were so happy together, and at midsummer they would make their final vows to each other.

But when they had reached Imladris everything seemed so unnaturally quiet, as the deep breathe before the plunge. The girls had split up and walked to their respective homes, but when she arrived home she found a small envelope just inside her door, otherwise no one was there, even though the hunt should have been over hours ago.

She turned on the light and opened the envelope. Inside was a short note explaining the sad outcome of the hunt, and that Nathrond had been one of the elves who had not made it through.

She read it again, not quite able to accept that which was said in the letter, after all the concept of death was new to her, something that she had never experienced before. When she finally came to terms with reality the light in the room seemed to dim and her world turned dark. She fell sideways off of the chair she had been sitting on, squeezing the letter tightly. Her heart had been crushed; she had lost the only family she had left in Middle Earth, how would she be able to keep going now?

Tears streamed down her face as she just lay there amid the scattered pieces of her broken life.

It was that way her friend found her later in the night, her brother had returned to them unharmed and told the sad tale.

End of Flashback

The fallen elves were buried in a small glade just outside the gates of Imladris. It was a beautiful and peaceful place. The dead would rest soundly here. They were the first elves to ever die in Imladris, so no customs were there for this kind of moment, so most of it was carried out in saddened silence.

Lasneth stood between her friend and her brother her face stoical and emotionless. She was as cold as stone, she couldn't afford to feel or she would surely shatter into a thousand pieces.

The elves were given back to earth one at a time, and the mourning followed Elrond slowly to each new grave. When they came to the bier that held Nathrond Lasneth went to his still body, cleaned of all marks of battle. His hair shone in the sun, even if it did not have the shimmer of life. And his features were as beautiful as ever, perfect even in death. She leaned down to kiss his cold lips one last time before he was forever lost to her. As their lips touched she felt as if a little warmth returned to him, and a desperate hope rose in her, only to be crushed when the sensation of warmth disappeared as quickly as it had come.

She rose a little shakily, tears glistening in her eyes and on her pale cheeks, and Nathrond's friends took up the bier reverently and slowly lowered it into the hole in the ground. Then flowers were dropped on top of him, and then earth to conceal his body.

Nathrond was the last of the elves to be buried. The dead Dúnedain had also been buried, and now Elrond's raised his voice for the first time since this sad duty had begun. "It is sad to see so many brave and merry souls leave us so unnecessary. But those we have buried today did not die unnecessary. They died protecting the innocent, they died so that others may live, and even though this does not make the pain of their loss easier to bear it is good to know that theses warriors did not give their lives for nothing, that their deaths bring with them something good, something worth fighting and dying for"

The remaining Dúnedain left shortly after the burial, seeking out the others of their kin. Leaving Aragorn in the keeping of Elrond. And the child grew, and became a man. And every day he brought new life into the life of those whose heart had been heavy.

Elrond never forgot all the losses he had had in life, but with Estel new purpose had been brought into his life. For with this small child hope came, both for men and elves. This child truly was a blessing from Ilúvatar.

The hope of all.

The End