Once out of Imladris and understanding some goodbyes as final, Aragorn and Faramir rode along quietly, now thinking of those they parted from. But soon their thoughts turned instead to home and those who awaited their return. With Elrond's instruction on safe palantír use, Faramir, on several occasions, had been able to see glimpses of his little one.

Elboron looked to be growing like a happy little weed, oftentimes nestled in his "grandma's" arms or "assisting" his elder cousin with some administrative duty. In the latter case it definitely seemed that Elboron's main quality was keeping Belthil awake at the Steward's desk when he started to drowse off after coming in fresh off of Guard duty. A good tug on his hair usually did wonders for his state of wakefulness. It eased Faramir's heart to know that his little boy was so well cared for, but it also made him wish for him all the more.

As for Aragorn, he was simply looking forward to getting back to his wife. As comfortable as Imladris was, there had been nights when he found it difficult to slip into sleep without his beloved beside him. Nights had not yet grown very cool as they started home, so sleeping under the stars was still an option to the two travelers. Out of the old Ranger's habit, they slept back-to-back, each with his sword at hand through the night.

On their third night they had an early dinner and took to sleep as the sun was only just disappeared into the West. Rain clouds had been starting to build from the south and they decided to break early in case that weather was headed their way. It would be a lot easier to get up in the wee hours and ride in the rain than it would be to attempt to sleep in it. Night was exceptionally warm, thanks to the cloud cover overhead and both had discarded cloaks and tunics, bedding down in just shirts and leggings.

It was nearly midnight when Aragorn instinctively stirred from his sleep. For a moment he lay still in the dark, listening. Just as he started to relax again, convincing himself that the south wind was playing tricks on him, he heard a slight hissing sound that made his blood run cold. It was coming from over by Faramir, so maybe it was just his son's breathing, but he heard it again and knew that sound too well to mistake it for any human breathing.

Aragorn turned slowly, almost imperceptibly (he hoped) toward Faramir. He laid a hand on his son's back and whispered, "Faramir, wake up but do not move."

Faramir moaned in his sleep. He cracked one eye open groggily. "Ada, c'mon, it's not morning. Doesn't feel like rain. Lemme sleep."

"Faramir, just stay still!" Aragorn hissed. He groped for his sheathed knife. He could not miss with this strike and yet he could not see his target in this darkness and he was shaking like a brittle autumn leaf in a gale-force wind. Just as he was pushing himself upright and listening intently for where his knife would need to fall, a cloud parted, allowing a bright light to fall through from the waning moon.

Aragorn seized the opportunity and saw his target - his blood turned to ice looking at his foe, it was exactly what he'd feared, only more. The creature had sensed his tension and had drawn itself up, it too was ready to strike. For a second Aragorn stopped thinking, fright overriding all of his other well-honed senses. The thing started to draw back, breaking the deer-dance they were locked in. It was going to attempt the first strike. Suddenly the precious moonlight was gone again and all Aragorn knew was that Faramir was going to be in the line of danger. He threw himself over his drowsing son, pushing him out of the way.

Time seemed to freeze between Aragorn making his move to protect Faramir and the time he felt the fangs sink into his calf. In an instant Faramir was wide awake, hearing his father's howl of pain. "Kill it! Kill it!" he half-begged, half-ordered with some degree of difficulty. Faramir moved purely on instinct to take up the knife his father had dropped. "My leg, left!" Aragorn panted and Faramir struck the knife into whatever had a bite on his father, he knew not what. "Get it off me! Valar!" whimpered the man who had spent more years alone in the wilderness than anyone cared to count.

Faramir tried to soothe his father. Never had he seen his so agitated. It wasn't until he felt the cold scales attached to the pair of fangs imbedded in his father's leg that he understood. Faramir knew enough about how to handle snakebites and insisted that his father calm down at once. Panic would only speed up the heart rate and spread the poison faster. It wasn't until he lit a fire (not without a little trepidation of his own still) that he saw the offending fiend and realized that he was not in the least familiar with that particular type of serpent and he had no notion of it's capabilities.

"Father, what is this?" he asked. "How do i need to treat -?" The sight of his father in a state of shock, trembling convulsively, took all the nerve Faramir had. He could have dealt with the bite itself, but he had no idea what to do about the poison and he had never seen a reaction like this to a bite before. "Father? Father, please! I don't know what to do to help you. Don't shake... it'll spread. Please... help me!"

There was no answer from Aragorn and Faramir was wrapped tightly around his father, at least to ease the trembling, but also because he was afraid. "Far'... cut...," Aragorn murmured before passing out cold. Faramir understood immediately and cleansed a paring knife in the flames before making a cut over the wound and sucking out the poison as much as he could. Now he cursed himself for not thinking to do that first off and tore off a strip from his shirt to tie off just above the bite.

Through it all, Faramir had remained mostly calm. He'd had a lot more than his share of run-ins with venom and come out well enough. But when the rain clouds overhead broke, so too did Faramir's composure. He knew he could do not more to help his father, he had never encountered this reaction before, and his father had not woken despite Faramir calling him. The rain was coming down hard and heavy and it was not what a person in shock needed. The fire had been doused and it was the first time in months that Faramir truly wished it had not been.

Faramir spread both of their cloaks over Aragorn and wondered if he was going to lose his father here, alone, in unfamiliar land. He wondered if he could somehow find his way back to Rivendell in time to get help. He began to feel absolutely helpless and despondent as he tried to lift his father, trying not to jostle him too much. If he could just get him onto Roheryn... It wasn't working and eventually Faramir gave up, held his father tightly, and wept.

Faramir wondered if he accidentally ingested that poison and was going delusional himself when he heard the light sound of jingling bells. Madness or not, though, he called out desperately for help. He sensed the light of the two riders before actually seeing them and rejoiced with renewed and wholly unexpected hope when Glorfindel and Gandalf rode into the clearing.

"Valar! He was right," Glorfindel said to Gandalf as knelt beside Aragorn. "I've got to get him back there immediately." The Vanya gently lifted Aragorn and Gandalf held him until Glorfindel remounted, then he took off back the way they came without so much as glancing at Faramir.

"Come, Faramir," Gandalf said, wrapping his own cloak around the trembling and afraid young man.

Faramir now felt that he was the one in shock as his old friend helped him up into his saddle and took Roheryn and the pack horse to be lead back to Rivendell. "Mithrandir, how did you know -? Will my father survive?" he asked numbly, not entirely wanting to know.

"I can answer neither question, my lad," Gandalf said carefully, making sure to ride close to Faramir. "It was Elrond who sent us after the two of you. And as to your second question... Well, Frodo pulled through after being stabbed by the Witch-king, and you yourself survived the Black Breath... so - well, i... i hope."

ooo

Just as a disclaimer - i really don't know anything technical about treating snake bites. My advice is to stay very far away from snakes. I'm just a lowly writer and secretary who knows a little about a lot of things, enough to impress people with a casual remark at a party, but i don't go around saving lives.

Elenhin: I detest smoke too, most especially tobacco smoke. I was once told by a flattering young gentleman that smoke always gravitates toward beauty. Well, that is partially true :) Actually, it has something to do with air circulation. If there is no wind and you stand away from the smoke, it will come back toward you in a moment. Move again, and it will follow you. It just has something to do with air currents, so you can't really escape it anyway.

linda: Yes, the parting was hard... now we will see what the temporary reunion will be like.