I apologize about last weekend, it was midterm break and I went home hence I had no time to write. And I couldn't write when I cam back because my professors all got together and decided to have tests on the same day. So I've spent the past three days studying for three tests and I can only hope that I did well on them. But anyway, here were are gearing up for the end. Yep it's getting close, I think. (When I first wrote this it was only supposed to be three chapters, but as you can see I've long abandoned that) However, please read, relax, and review. Oh and the disclaimer, as always, is in chapter one.

Warning: Excessive violence at the end.

'The end of all things'

A month later, Tudor declared his patient almost healed, much to the dismay of Strider who felt that he was more than healed and had been ready more than a week ago to return to his normal activities. But Tudor had held his own, ignoring the constant stream of complaints from Strider and had even threatened the man with a heavy sleeping draught if he wouldn't be more patient and wait for his body to fully heal.

'Finally,' Strider's voice of full of excitement as Tudor told him the good news.

'Honestly, Strider you're worse than a little kid,' he joked with the older man.

'Have you told Yestin,' Strider ignored the comment, wondering instead when he'd get to do something rather than sit around, waiting for the healing process to be complete.

'No, but you can let him know that you're ready for light activities, nothing strenuous.'

Strider's look of excitement quickly changed to one of shock, 'What do you mean? I thought you told me that I was healed.'

'Almost Strider,' he reminded him. 'I said almost. Your injuries were serious and it will take you some time to fully heal from them.'

'Then why are you letting me go?' Tudor sighed, the man sounded like a child.

'Because I'm tired of your complaints, now go,' he feigned anger. Strider gave him an odd look for it seemed that their conversation had taken a serious twist, but Tudor couldn't keep his face straight for more than a few seconds and Strider finally realized that it was nothing more than a joke.

Feeling better than he had in several days, Strider stood, glancing around the camp to find his captain. He was anxious to report for his first time as a ranger. Before he left, he looked back at Tudor, who was organizing his supplies and putting the few tools he had used back in their places. Though he was a year younger than him, Strider looked upon Tudor as an equal for he grown much in the past month, gaining confidence in his abilities and learning to trust himself, rather than doubt his every thought.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he turned to find his captain. He found him in his usual place, poring over maps, but this time Romney was there; both bore a serious look on their faces.

'Sir,' he spoke with confidence. Yestin looked up, silently beckoning Strider to continue. 'I'm reporting for duty.' At this Romney, too raised his head for neither had expected Strider to be released from Tudor's care for at least another week.

'Tudor has released you?' Yestin questioned, slightly unnerved by Strider's statement.

'Yes,' the thought of not telling Yestin the full truth crossed his mind, but he was not tempted by it for he knew that he would simply garner worse trouble by not telling. 'But only for light activities.'

Yestin let out a breath he didn't realize that he'd been holding and later wondered why he'd been holding it and if anyone had seen him, but he quickly brushed off all thoughts of that, for he was glad to have Strider back and seemingly healthy.

'That sounds better,' Romney let his thoughts slip past his mouth. Yestin gave him a look and he instantly regretted saying anything, but Strider didn't seem to notice, that or he simply didn't care.

'I'm afraid though,' Yestin began, 'that I have nothing for you to do, unless you wish to prepare the men's meal again.'

Strider almost refused that job for that was his old job, as an errand boy to make the meals, but he was tired of sitting around and was desperate for something to do.

'I don't mind,' he said and went to making the dinner. There were few men in the camp for winter was coming and they were out gathering the last of the fresh nuts and berries for when food would be hard to come by during the winter so Strider had much time to think. It'd been almost a year since he had left, since his exile. He wondered what was going on in Rivendell, was Lord Elrond curious about his whereabouts? Or had the elven lord forgotten about the human boy he had raised for eighteen years.

And what of Arwen, in his anger he had forgotten all about her, but she hadn't come out when he left. Was she angry at him for leaving? Had she forsaken her love for him? He wished to see her once again; her beauty would make his death worth it, to have seen her one last time before he died would satisfy him. And suddenly he thought to ask Yestin for leave and return once more to Rivendell for she would be there by the time he had arrived, there to see her father and brothers. Then he could see her and she him and he could ask her forgiveness.

'Of course my love,' she would say, her voice soft and angelic would be like music upon his ears, the words gently caressing his eardrums as he once again fell under the spell of Arwen Undomiel. Inside her room, they would stay, forgetting the outside world and under the trance of their love they would both forget the danger of their meeting until the door burst open. Elrond's face was full of emotion for he was saddened by his daughter's betrayal and angered by the man's return.

Arwen moved quickly to protect her love, 'Do not harm him father, he knows not what he does.'

'Move Arwen,' his voice was deep with anger. 'Do not lay another hand on him.'

Arwen stood in front of her love, placing her hand on his chest to keep him safe for she knew as long as she was near him, father would not harm him.

'It was not his decision, father,' she pleaded. 'It was I who called him, let him go free.'

Elrond did not hear her though, his anger making him deaf as he approached the bed. 'Do not lie for this human, daughter, he is not worth such effort,' he spoke harshly of her love.

'Father...'

'No Arwen,' she was interrupted by the man she was protecting. 'You need not protect me.' They faced each other, hands locked in front of them, their eyes meeting in a solemn agreement. She sat on the bed, for while she understood she could not accept it. He gave her one last look of endearment, wishing that she would hold onto that forever into the Undying Lands and slowly let go of her hands. They fell lifeless beside her as he turned to face her father.

'Guards!' Elrond called, he was prepared for the fight the man would put up.

'You don't need them, Lord Elrond,' he spoke. 'I won't fight you.'

Elrond's look didn't change, for he didn't believe the man's words.

'Do what you wish with me,' he continued, 'for I know the consequences, but please do not harm you daughter,' he pleaded. 'She has done no wrong here.'

'Take him away,' Elrond commanded the guards when they entered the room. The room was silent as they bound his hands and led him to the door. It was Arwen who broke the silence, for a singe tear encompassed in love and formed of sorrow had fallen from her cheek, splattering on the cold stone floor with a crash that signified more than the sorrow of a distraught daughter, but the end of all things.

Elrond turned in surprise as did the guards. He looked back at his daughter and then to the man bound before him. 'Tell me, who is it that causes my daughter such grief?'

'Strider I am called by mortals, but the heavens seek me as Aragorn Elessar, the Elfstone descended from the house of Elendil.'

A hurried shout, caused Strider to miss Elrond's words. Was he forgiven? Or was the elven lord as stubborn as he? Desperately he tried to pull himself back into his daydream, but more shouts disrupted his thoughts. He shook his head, forcing himself to return to reality for he couldn't understand what was being said.

'...arm yourselves,' was all of the last shout he caught. Men were rushing by him, it seemed that everyone had returned in just the last few minutes and were all in a panic. He grabbed at the tunic of a man who ran by.

'What's going on?' he asked hurriedly.

'We're under attack!' the man reported. Strider was unable to comprehend.

'What do you mean? Who's attacking? How?' the questions tumbled out of his mouth.

'I don't know, they just snuck up on us, someone must have ratted us out. They knew exactly where we were,' the man rushed to tell Strider before rushing to help with the battle.

The fire roared as Strider stood in the middle as the battle raged around him. He still didn't understand. Who would rat them out? And why? He rubbed his fingers against each other, idly fidgeting. There was something sticky on them, something wet that was quickly drying. By the light of the fire, he studied his hand, seeing the red substance on it and then it hit him around him there was a battle and his friends were in trouble. He was not armed for battle though for his weapons were still with Yestin where he'd left them more than a month ago as he prepared to endure his three day test. Thankfully his captain's tent was not far away. If he hurried, he told himself, he would make it.

Not giving it a second thought, he took off running, his flight overlooked by the chaos of the battle. Every second he saw the tent becoming larger and larger until he was upon it and walked under its protection without thought of what was there for from a distance it seemed empty. But what he unprepared for what he saw: Yestin being held at knife point and Romney next to him on the ground, blood streaming out of a hole in his back. Sensing the danger of the situation he stopped.

'That's a good boy,' the voice patronized him; it sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Underneath the cloak, the voice spoke again and gave a signal to two of his minions, 'Bind him.'

Strider panicked at the words, quickly glancing around the room. He caught sight of his weapons; the firelight flickered, shining brightly about the tent and for a second blinded the tent's occupants. Strider took advantage of the second, throwing himself towards his weapons and in the instant that that took, the cloaked man had drawn his knife across Yestin's throat, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake. And when Strider drew his sword, the man thrust the same blade deep in Yestin's chest. The captain's face shot up in surprise, his eyes wide in shock for he hadn't registered the pain yet. Strider watched as his captain slowly came to realize that blood was seeping past his skin and soaking his shirt. He touched the wound, just to make sure it was real before he dropped to his knees. His breath was heavy, forcing the blade up and down with every rise and fall of his chest.

'Drop the sword, Elfstone,' the man had his own sword out and was holding it dangerously close to Yestin's neck, 'or I shall strike him down.'

Strider stood in a state of shock and panic. How had the man known his true name? Who was this that would come the threaten him? He glanced down at Yestin; the man's face was a mixture of pain and fear, for while he wished the pain to be gone he was not ready for death either.

'What do you want,' Strider asked; it seemed that the tent was in another world for even as they spoke the battle raged on outside, but did not interfere with the events that were rapidly unfolding inside the tent.

'You, my friend,' the voice snarled, 'are not in a position to ask questions. Now drop your sword and I will spare you captain's life for another day.'

Strider glanced at Yestin once more, the decision shouldn't be too difficult; his life for his captain's, yet even as he looked at Yestin and their eyes met, something told him not to. His captain silently pleaded with him not to give up for he knew what was happening, he knew who this was and why he was here.

'Why didn't you tell me?' Strider shouted to his captain, but Yestin was unable to speak as his breaths became ragged and the blood began to drip off his shirt and puddle on the floor.

'I grow weary of your games, boy,' Strider was pressured. 'Lower your sword,' he once again commanded and this time Strider obeyed, though a part of him screamed for him not to. 'That's a good boy,' he spoke down to Strider once again. 'Guards!' he called out and suddenly Strider was struck with a sense of déjà vu.

His hands were roughly pulled behind him and tied with a coarse rope. He watched Yestin carefully, not sure whether to be angered or worried about the man. He wasn't given time to settle on anything though as he was yanked back; the guards were testing the ropes: they were tight enough.

'Take him back to camp,' the man ordered. 'If he gets out of line, put him in his place, but do not kill him,' the man paused. 'I want that pleasure myself,' his voice dripped with malice and evil.

As the guards forcefully pulled him out of the tent, Strider took one last glance at the situation and instantly wished he hadn't for he saw the cloaked man pull back his sword, keeping it trained on Yestin's neck. Instinctively, Strider turned back, lowering his head as his trained ears heard the sharp blade slice through the air followed by a thump. He shut his eyes, silently mourning the loss of his captain. At least he went quickly, he thought; at least it was painless, Strider consoled himself before he was received a hard kick to his knee that sent him to the ground in pain and then was forced back to his feet and shoved along an unknown path on an unknown journey that he now knew would be the end of it all.

Yeah, he's in trouble again, just couldn't help myself.

Reviewer's Responses:

Poppa Jon- Thanks, I'm hoping to write one soon and by the way, the past couple of chapters have been my favorite, so perfect, I think.

viggomaniac- oh, you made my day. Thanks for reading 'Those Darn Fanfic Writers' and adding it to your c2, I never expected it to get any response especially so many months after I first posted it. As for the story, it's getting a little complex, hopfully this make a little more sense. And the letter, that just pops up really quick, and kind of returns to haunt him. Some of that was also just expanding on Glynn, explaining where he's coming from so you can see his ater dilemma better. Don't worry, I'll never forget to write, I'm enjoying this way too much.

grumpy- no, it really wasn't but things worked out and he's kind of dealing with some big issues.

lindahoyand- thanks, I was worried that I over did the suffering or didn't pick up on it as much as I should have. Thanks for reviewing.

Oh, look at the time 2:30 in the morning. Good thing I don't have class tomorrow. But still I need to go, so thanks for reading and reviewing, I appreciate the feedback.