With dawn Aragorn woke groggily with a bright light shining in his eyes. He pulled his hood up to cut the glare, but then noted that the light had not been shining in the east as the morning sun, but rather from the north. Nor had he noticed immediately that his actions had woken someone beside him until he realized that his son had been curled up beside him, his head still on his father's shoulder.

"Must've forgotten to pull the drapery to last night," Faramir mumbled, pulling himself up with a hand over his eyes and staggering toward the light source only to be caught by Gandalf.

"If you gentlemen have had quite enough sleep, the rest of us would like to be moving on...," the old wizard said impatiently.

Father and son glanced at one another with wry smiles and dusted themselves off to set out again. They were lucky enough to find some fresh berries while stumbling back to their campsite and felt much revived and ready for the road.

As they mounted and started to take up the north way Aragorn rode close to Gandalf. It was amazing how fast he had gone from looking the part of the great King of Men back to a grim, enduring Ranger again.

"I was doing some thinking last night, old Greyhame," Aragorn said.

"That's White-hame to you... you young upstart," Gandalf said in a stern timbre.

"Ai... does that have the ring of... treason to it?" Aragorn said in the same voice. "And to think i was going to apologize to you..."

Gandalf snorted indignantly. "So you should! You owe me an apology. Arguing with me when you know perfectly well that i am always right... Upstart!" Gandalf said, his rant trailing off to a mutter.

"Treason...," Aragorn intoned, tauntingly leaning forward to see Gandalf's expression.

Aragorn saw rather little of Gandalf's expression as the Wizard whacked Roheryn, sending her speeding forward and nearly letting her rider go, had he not been blessed with quick reflexes. The King huffed and pouted dramatically every time Gandalf tried to talk to him the rest of the day, "just as though he had always known court-life," as Gandalf himself put it.

"I dearly hope this sort of foolishness does not run in the family," Glorfindel said with a guarded look toward Faramir.

"No, indeed, Master Glorfindel. The trouble, it seems, in fact resides solely in the condition of the re-born Balrog-slayer," Faramir said without missing a beat, and earning a "well done" from Erestor and a proud, paternal laugh from his father.

The rest of the trip carried on without any more real tensions, though everyone had begun to weary some by the time they had taken Hollin Ridge, some more than others. Aragorn and Gandalf had reached a compromise, Gandalf agreeing to a crossing of the Glanduin at Ost-in-Edhil, Aragorn agreeing to bear East from there, staying near the foothills of the Hithaeglir and crossing the Ridge to get to Rivendell faster. From Hollin Ridge it was only another four days ride into the valley, and now they took to riding longer into the night, as Faramir was the only one among them who did not know the land well from there on in.

It was early evening on the fifth day, Aragorn had just distributed some lembas for lunch - again - and started day dreaming of something that had just recently grown ripe on a tree branch other than a squirrel. There was no longer anyone "leading" per se, and Faramir was just following everyone else. The Steward noticed that Glorfindel had dropped back, or more to the point stopped riding altogether, and was just staring up ahead. Erestor noticed it to, and turned to question him.

"Utulielmet a mar," Glorfindel said in a whisper, before urging Asfaloth forward suddenly.

Erestor peered ahead into the distance and saw the sight his lover had seen, Imladris's indicative high moors. Aragorn, too, was well enough sighted to know exactly where they were and he, too, broke into a gallop, waving for Faramir to follow him. Erestor and Gandalf were the only ones content with a mere canter.

By the time the first three riders flew down into the valley as if to re-enact the last time Aragorn and Glorfindel had come riding into Imladris together, the sun was beginning to set the sky alight with color. It was Glorfindel who first clattered across the bridge and up to the courtyard. Then came Aragorn, who was followed by a slowing Faramir, slowing not for exhaustion, but awe.

Imladris's lush summer green mingled with evening's gold so red, painting a picture nearly as ethereal as the crisp autumn in the river valley. Every window of the House of Elrond bore a lantern glowing a gentle, comforting, and warm welcome. Never before in his life had Faramir felt so at home. This place was all that he imagined and so much more.

Rarely was Elrond's dinner ever interrupted in these days, let alone by such commottion out in his courtyard, thus the ruler of Imladris himself came out to greet the arrivals. Even Elrond was not able to hide his happiness at seeing Glorfindel, Aragorn, and Faramir again. Scarcely had he made it off the porch before Aragorn launched himself into Elrond's arms, momentarily stunning the great Elf-lord, who Faramir found to be much more imposing in his own realm than in the realm of Men.

It took only a moment for Elrond to get used to having an arm-full of dusty Ranger again, and with a laugh he embraced his "third son" tightly, whispering "ion-nín" to Aragorn's "adar." As Elrond pulled back to regard the Man, it was clear that any and all tension that had lingered between these two in the last few years had not only dissipated, but was unconditionally absolved. From that point on until they were back in Gondor, Aragorn had no intention of being King of anything, he sought only to be again in his father's care... most likely for the last time. Aragorn pulled his own astounded son toward him, nearly mid-dismount. This was one of his own wishes come true, to be here in this place with his own son as well as he who he regarded as his father.

Elrond smiled at Faramir's wonderment and spoke words the young Mortal had hoped for all of his life to hear one day: "Welcome to Imladris, Faramir."

-

This chapter seems too short to me, but i thought it was a good place to break for now. More soon to come.

Elenhin: Well, technically, Faramir can die and shall have to at some point... a pesky condition of Mortality. I don't think it will be too soon, though. Unless something dreadful should befall (but then, how many dreadful things can befall that poor boy?), i shall say this much only... he is safe in Imladris. Beyond that, you'll just have to keep reading. It may be that he dies a nice, peaceful, comfortable death at home in his own bed many, many years later. We may hope. We may see Elboron in the next chapter, indirectly at any rate.

linda: Faramir is going to need to talk to someone and he will definitely need to get over his fear. Elrond might have the cure for that.