Chapter 15
The Hearts Of Good And Evil
The severed rope fell harmlessly from Ralorn's wrists. Slowly, stiffly, Aragorn got onto his knees and held the sword out to the elf. Ralorn didn't move, his expressionless gaze turning to one of shock.
"Otherwise," Aragorn continued, his voice soft but strong. "Please leave, and do not threaten my family again."
Aragorn dropped his gaze to the forest floor, but the sword didn't move. It lay spread over the man's hands in an open invitation to the dark elf. All it took was the choice of one that could not find the power to move from where he knelt.
Elladan and Elrohir were standing side-by-side not ten feet away from their little brother. Horror was wrapping them in its endless chain. This was not supposed to be Aragorn's battle! It was something they should have solved years ago, but time and memory had swept it all away. Now they were still paying the price of losing something that should not have been forgotten.
Legolas stood right behind Aragorn a short distance, watching his friend with rapt attention. Fear was trying to rip its way into his heart, but the prince pushed it back. He had been there the ultimate night of failure, when Aragorn had nearly given himself over to the end in return for the rest he couldn't find, he had kept the man alive despite all odds, but now there was no protecting him from this. Not Legolas, not Elladan, not Elrohir. Aragorn had to do it, and do it alone. Only then could he find the path to be truly free. Only then could he begin to really heal.
Aragorn's shoulders were shaking and his head hung forward in a weakness of his body he would never admit to. Critical weariness barely healed was making it difficult for him, the scars that marred his body ever fresh and their pull on his heart and soul still very strong.
Ralorn had not moved when Aragorn had made the offer and presented the sword, but inside dark confusion was battling with him, questions now rising to the forefront of his mind. What was happening? What had led him to this point? A life full of dark memories that would have made a seasoned warrior tremble, and now, suddenly, someone was offering him this? A tortured and breaking man, a human, was kneeling at his feet, offering him something that was valued beyond all else, something that he had taken for granted - life.
The consequences that would follow should he go through with it were all too familiar it would again stain his heart to even darker ways... just like all the others he had taken. The first to the last, what difference did it make? It had the same ending. He was not afraid to kill or torture, it was something that had come with the dark paths he had chosen.
But was it what he really wanted? Was it enough anymore?
His conversation with Arwen the previous night came back to him. It was not until now that he knew she had been right, and for the first time since he was much younger, he could again hear a voice that was no longer willing to be ignored. Lessons his parents had taught him before they were brutally stripped from his life came back to him lessons of mercy, justice, and love. He could remember fearing to take a life. Could remember being hesitant to draw a sword, rather desiring to work with his father and the horses - a job that did not require a blade and the responsibility to chose when to take a life and when to save it. Those fears he had overcome over time and ignored the pain it gave him until those voices disappeared entirely. Those fears meant nothing to him anymore. But somehow, they were reaching out to him again.
The sword was still there, glinting and winking at him in the light. A week before he would have taken the offer without thought, wishing only to remove the darkness of betrayal and hurt that had hazed his mind for so many long, cold years. Last night he would have gripped the hilt with ease and let the cold steal find its way into this man's heart, destroying any barrier that was keeping Aragorn's spirit from fleeing to an unfamiliar realm. But now, a week, a day... those thoughts were from a lifetime ago. Lost. Gone. Forgotten.
Arwen had reminded him of love, and now this man he knew as Strider had shown him the deepest kind of compassion mercy. The willingness to give his life for his family and friends. To deny his own life in utter selflessness. To allow another the chance to witness the actions of deep, unconditional caring. Ralorn did not understand... but no longer could he find the strength in his fingers to take the sword with the intent to kill. Within him something once small and weak was now growing bright and strong, holding him back from walking down that dark path again.
With a mind he had not used in over a millennia, Ralorn faced the man fully on the ground and with both hands lifted the sword out of Aragorn's control. The ranger's hands slowly found their way to his lap and he sat in waiting, head bowed forward so he could not see the end, his hair falling over his shoulders and shielding his eyes. If Ralorn could have seen Aragorn's face, he would have seen the tears, would have seen the pain of the choices that he had made.
The only difference was, this time, it did matter. He had so suddenly, so drastically, so powerfully experienced a mighty change of heart.
So when Ralorn lifted the sheath at Aragorn's side and slid the white blade back behind the protective leather, Aragorn was in no small way astonished.
Settling the re-sheathed sword on Aragorn's lap, he let the man's hands curl around the supple leather in amazement. Ralorn leaned back and did not move or speak until the ranger lifted his gaze.
"I do not understand..." Ralorn murmured when Aragorn looked at him, and the elf's very features seemed to have changed. The hard, hate-filled glare that dared anyone to say anything was gone. For the first time, parhaps the first time since the elf was very young, there was pleading and confusion. "But I cannot kill you human... I cannot. I came looking for death... but you have offered me only life. I did not look for it in a ranger, nor in anyone have I ever met save one. I will go... and I will not hunt you or those you claim as yours again. I swear it."
Reaching deep into one pocket of his tunic, Ralorn withdrew a small pendent; a beautiful silver-lined walnut shell strung on a leather thong. It glinted merrily in the coming rays of sunlight. Holding it out to the ranger, the elf let Aragorn stare at the treasured shell and hesitantly close his fingers around it.
"Here," Ralorn whispered. "For the boy."
After that, Ralorn was gone. Despite his evilness of heart, he was always of his word. He stood slowly, turned, and walked away, not stopping nor looking back. As he did so, he was in shock at himself. After so long of never being able to even falter in his step, he had finally found the strength to look away and let go.
Several minutes passed after Ralorn had left in complete and stunned silence. No one could fully grasp what had just happened. No one in the clearing could even move until Aragorn did. The man had watched Ralorn leave, his stature tall and straight as he knelt. Once Ralorn had disappeared from his view, Aragorn finally let his head fall forward for the last time. It was a silent tribute to the man's strength of heart that he was able to make it this far, and now finally safe, he let his guard down. His head fell to his hands.
Legolas reached his side first, coming up from behind and wrapping his arms around the man, letting Aragorn lean back against him. Aragorn dropped the sword, pushing it off his lap and turned partway around, burying his face in his friend's cloak. In one hand, he still retained the small walnut shell.
"I'm sorry," he murmured painfully, blood dripping from his mouth as restrained sobs heaved from his bruised body. "I had to let him go, I couldn't let him haunt me anymore..."
"You did what I thought you would do; what I wanted and feared the most. It is good to know Estel, that you have a heart that understands the darkest of a life." Legolas held the man close.
"I hate him," Aragorn whispered, tears clinging to his eyes. His elven brothers had joined the group, both wrapping their arms around the kneeling human and prince.
"I hate him, too." Elrohir said softly. He was crying as well.
"He let them rape me," the ranger moaned, testing the words to see how if felt to say them aloud. "Rape me! He tried to kill all of us. I hate him!" Speaking it aloud seemed to help him let go of some of his emotional hurt, and a shell of his detachment began to fall away from his heart. His voice fell down to a murmur as another thought came to mind. Something stronger and deeper than the suffering he had endured.
"But he's shown me what hate can do. I'm not-" he choked. "I'm not strong enough to become as I wish to be and let that kind of hate stay with me. If I don't learn to let it go, it will destroy me as surely as it did him. He cannot walk in the shadow of my life, nor can I live each day remembering. I needed to set him free, so he could learn as I have learned the power of mercy... and there is so much more to life that he needs to understand that does not involve grief..."
Aragorn ceased to speak, feeling a wealth of things he wished to say still and inadequacy in what had already been said, but he could not find the words to express all that was in his heart. He allowed Elladan to again pull him back into the elf's arms, shutting his eyes while Elrohir and Legolas knelt nearby. He was so tired, so worn... every fiber of his being felt like it was shutting down.
Elrohir touched Aragorn lightly, encouraging the man to look at him one last time before drifting off into a weary sleep. "And that," he whispered gently, "is the compassion of a true, wise King of Men."
As Elladan watched the young man finally succumb to the will of his body, he felt he now understood why he had been in turmoil the night before. He knew now, why he had held back. Somehow, he had known that it was not Ralorn's time, nor was it in his hands or his heart to make it so.
"Come," he whispered to the others. "It is time to go home."
§§§
A mighty elf lord stood outside his home, patiently talking with a young boy of about fifteen. The teen's leg had been bound and splinted but the break he had taken was healing quickly. Comfortable autumn weather floated gently though the outer courtyards of Rivendell, giving the valley a sense of peace and home.
Then suddenly the elf lord cut himself off mid-sentence. Turning his eyes away from the boy and taking his attention to the north, he listened. It seemed as though the trees were holding their breath as he was. Something was coming, he could sense it, hear it, feel it. In baited breath, he turned away with no explanation whatsoever to his guest, and began walking to the main entrance. After a moment's hesitation, the teenager picked up a set of crude crutches and followed the sound of his host.
Lord Elrond walked about three hundred feet before stopping and waiting. He could see beings in the distance, a small party of only four beings and one beast. All but one was on foot. The sight caught at his heart. Just as Gowen caught up to his side, Elrond took off at a light jog, headed straight for the new-coming group. As he got closer, loud calls of a joyful greeting rushed forward to meet him.
00000000
"Elladan," Aragorn whispered to his older brother, catching the Eldar's attention. "I wish to walk the rest of the way."
"Estel," Elladan hesitated. He didn't want the man to walk quite yet. For the two weeks of slow travel Aragorn had been forbidden to walk unaided. It wasn't until last night right before bed down that the twins had finally allowed the ranger to walk a little on his own. Feet still healing and tender though the surface had more or less healed, the ranger's traveling companions didn't want anything to split open under unneeded stress. Compared to what they had all been through, the journey home had been uneventful and long, traveling though what had been destroyed by the earthquake. All of them were ready to find solace under Rivendell's rafters. In reality, Elladan had no excuse to give his little brother now. They were almost home; another five minutes and they would be at the front door. Surely Estel could walk that far without inflicting any further injury to himself.
Realizing that he had stalled for too long, Elladan glanced over at Elrohir, then Legolas. Both shrugged and smiled. 'Let him,' they seemed to say with their eyes. Again looking at his little brother, Elladan couldn't refuse the pleading in the young man's eyes. Shaking his head, Elladan stepped forward and with a single touch to the horse's neck told Silme to stop. The mare stalled immediately, looking back as Elladan helped Aragorn off her back. Celebnar flew off of Legolas' shoulder, where he had perched for much of the journey home, and lighted on Silme's neck just behind her ears.
"Be careful," Elladan whispered as he steadied the man on his feet. The limbs heavily wrapped, Aragorn sucked in his breath until the phase of numbing pain passed.
Just as Elladan was about to step away, the ranger clutched his brother's shoulder. "Help me," he said through clenched teeth. "Please."
Pulling one of the human's arms around his shoulders, Elladan complied. "Come on Estel," he said softly. "Let's go impress Ada."
Elladan began walking forward, forcing the ranger to walk with a small grin on his face. Breathing heavily, Aragorn nodded and smiled back, holding tightly to his older brother. "Oh, may I? Impress Ada... I'm so looking forward to his enforced bed rest, his lecture for getting into troubles again, his over-protectiveness the moment I enter his presence. I'll be confined to bed for a month and receive that awful tea every day for the first week. It makes me mad just thinking..." the man trailed off a moment, his voice changing slightly, his eyes lifting forward. "...Thinking... thinking about him."
The tone had faded from sarcastic to aching.
Elrohir pointed ahead of the group. "You may be in luck, tithen muindor, for he approaches us now."
(little brother)
He was right. A figure was running toward them in an almost undignified way, his identity clear.
Elrohir broke away from the group, rushing to greet his father. Elladan called Legolas over. "Take him," the elder twin begged of the prince. "I must go talk to father before he sees Estel."
Legolas quickly took Elladan's place and let the twins run for their father, their greetings to the elf lord loud and joyful. "Hurry my friend," Aragorn whispered. "I need to let him know that I'm all right..."
"Your father isn't going anywhere but to you, I promise you Estel. It will be all right." Legolas walked the man slowly, letting the ranger set the pace. Aragorn couldn't go faster than a newborn learning to walk, though he did try. His throat constricted and his heart began to swell when he could see his foster father clearly. It had truly been so long since he had seen him. When he had come home that night weeks past their greeting had been all of a moment long, with the expectation that they would have a chance to speak again the next day. How wrong they had been.
So often Aragorn had feared what would happen if he would never see him again. Never get that chance to again receive the comfort only a father could give. Emotions close to the surface and hardly caring at this point, Aragorn tried to walk even faster. "Ada..." he spoke to no one in particular, in a voice neither loud nor soft, imploring the elf lord to come his way.
Elrond turned away from his twin sons and faced his young human son, as though hearing the call. Seeing the man's tormented, disheveled appearance, his heart broke at the sight. Estel looked up at him through unruly strands of hair in his eyes, the pleading so evident in their depths. The gash on his face had been wrapped and cared for, but the fading bruises were still quite prominent. The injuries made the man look so much older than he was. Then Elrond looked into the young man's eyes.
They were dark with abuse and inner turmoil. They were lacking the luster and vitality that once had radiated so clearly from those silver-grey eyes. Only a shred of some light remained now. Estel was still in misery from much more than his hurts. Elrond's piercing, knowing gaze saw right through the remaining web of protective defense the ranger had both knowingly and unknowingly drilled thickly into the heart of his being. It was the mark of one who had come to know real, ever-remembering pain.
Elrond's fierce gaze began to fade from knowing to tears. The pains of his son's hurts were so deep and dark that he could not tell how far it had etched itself into the walls of the ranger's heart. Some part of him had been unconsciously locked away. Though Estel was there, hand reaching out, and yet at the same time he was not, heart holding back. Something was missing. For a brief moment he looked back, searching for what he knew must have been lost.
Aragorn turned his head to his approaching father, smiling again. "Ada!"
Elrond grasped his youngest firmly on the shoulders and looked at his son with a critical eye. Aragorn was nearly twenty-five now, and his face had hardened to the firm features of a young man. He was fit and well, though quite obviously tired, but his eyes still held a bright sparkle that was all his own, that held the innocence of his younger years.
"It is good to see you again, Estel," Elrond said joyfully, pulling the man into a quick, firm hug. He and his sons had learned to respect the time they still had with the man, for none of them were sure just how long the ranger would stay at home, nor how long he would be gone if called for again.
"I have missed you all so," Aragorn murmured softly into the folds of his father's soft robe, nearly giving in to the fog that muddled his brain. When he pulled away, Elrond could see weary lines creasing the edges of the young man's eyes. Nodding in understanding, he turned to the twins.
"Could you two please take Estel to his room before he falls over?" Aragorn shut his eyes and snorted at the good-natured jest. Both the twins attached themselves to either of Aragorn's sides and began to lead him down the hall. "We'll need to talk more in the morning."
"All right, Ada," Aragorn called over his shoulder quietly. "Thank you."
"Good night, my son."
"Estel," Elrond whispered, his eyes filled with devastation and heartache. "My son... oh my son..."
Aragorn resisted the urge to look down. His father could see, could read what others could miss or not understand the depth of. He had been tormented and abused. Though he had freed himself from Ralorn, the memory and consequence of what had been done to him wasn't about to fade. He knew Elrond could tell his heart had changed. He knew it as well as Legolas did.
00000000
Legolas sensed the moment when Aragorn could no longer move. Reading the open expression of horror in the elf lord's suddenly aged eyes; the prince took matters into his own hands. He knew what they both desired. Careful not to jounce his precious burden too much, Legolas led Aragorn over to where Elrond stood motionless, and with gentle hands, pulled Aragorn's arm wrapped around his neck off him and placed it over Elrond's shoulder.
It was the elf lord's eyes that now gave Estel the answer he needed to momentarily still the storm in his soul. They were so full of compassion. So full of love. So full of fire. So full of fear. And yet amidst the raging emotions and the life-long misery that would not fade in this world, his eyes were so full of eternal joy. The joy of discovering that a lost child was lost no more.
The feelings were unclear and confusing, reaching out and taking hold, but as of yet not ready to be fully claimed into the heart of the man. Still, he let it enter in, allowing it to heal what it could and give him the strength to walk forward and let his father gather him into his arms... without any trace of fear. He could feel warmth. He could feel trust. He could feel love.
"Ada..." he whispered. "I missed you so..."
Elrond began to cry. His recollection of a similar conversation nearly a month past, begun the same way, lingered still with him. This time though, he was determined to finish it. "The Valar are so merciful to my family," he murmured, his heart full of gratitude. He kissed his son's cheek, burying his face into the dark tresses of the man's hair. In this moment, if he never had to let go of him again, he would have been content.
At one point, Elrond looked up to gaze at his twin sons and Legolas. Eyes filled with tears, he thanked them with a gentle smile, his joy beyond words. His gratitude could only be understood in the language of the heart. Though he felt incredible guilt and unsettling fear, he pushed it away for the time being. Right now, all he wanted to feel was whatever Estel needed to know the most.
The sense of completeness. The sense of family. The sense of... home.
Another being joined the group. Brought to the others by the musical sound of their voices, Gowen hobbled up to them on his crutches. His eyes were full of wonder as he heard them converse. "Strider?" he said softly, garnering first the attention of Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir.
Legolas stepped forward first, his eyes alight. "Gowen. You made it here!" the prince stopped the teenager, gently touching his face so the boy would know where he was. Gowen smiled.
"Legolas! You are alive!" Gowen leaned on his rough crutches, bringing one hand up and wrapping it around the prince's. His sightless eyes still stared blankly ahead, but since the last time they had been together Legolas could see the change that had been wrought in them. Gowen was alive again.
Elladan and Elrohir followed the prince, both smiling identical smiles. "So this is Gowen. We have heard much of you, young one," Elrohir whispered to the boy.
Gowen turned vaguely to the elf twin's direction, his eyes brightening even further as he guessed who might be there. "Are you Elladan or Elrohir?" he asked, hope filling his voice.
Elladan smiled broadly. "Yes we are. And we are most honored to meet you." Gowen beamed shyly for a moment, but then remembered why he had come.
"Is Strider with you? Did you save him?"
"Yes child, he is here," Elladan let his hand press against the teenager's cheek, his heart beginning to overflow. "We got him out. But it was you who saved him."
For the first time, Aragorn looked up from Elrond's shoulder. Tears stained his fair face, but there was now more light mixed with the darkness of his eyes. He was finding his way farther along the road of his trials. "Gowen," he said softly in a choked voice, gently bidding his father let go so he could greet the blind boy.
Limping forward, Aragorn did not wait to let Gowen know he was there. He wrapped his arms around Gowen's slim body and held him close. Gowen tensed for a moment but then recognized the man quickly through touch and smell, and he relaxed into the embrace. He could feel Strider's body trembling, and he fearfully questioned, "Did they hurt you?"
Aragorn's eyes slid shut. "Yes," he said slowly. "They did hurt me. But without you, Little Brother, they would have killed me. Thank you," the ranger whispered as he enveloped the boy tighter into his arms. "Thank you for saving me."
"You saved me first," Gowen felt a rise of fear slid through his heart at the thought of his protector tormented by those he had known longer than he had known family. "I am sorry," he said softly, letting his hands bunch in the ranger's tunic.
"Don't be. You were my saving grace. If you had not directed Legolas so quickly, or decided not to trust him, I would have been lost." Aragorn looked up at his dear friend. Legolas was smiling at him and after a moment he walked up to the man and wrapped his arm around the ranger's shoulders. "Even a few hours longer... I wouldn't be here."
"Is Ralorn and the Guard gone now?"
"The Guard has been destroyed; it will hunt no one any longer. But Ralorn... I let him go."
"Let him go?" Gowen sounded confused. There was more to it than just that, he was sure of it, but it was a story that would have to wait for later.
Aragorn nodded even though the boy couldn't see it. He leaned his head to the side, touching Legolas' forehead with his own. "Yes. He is gone. He will never harm you again."
"Oh!" the ranger suddenly tensed and Gowen could tell Strider had just remembered something. Something wonderful.
"What?" Strider was searching for something, and the teenager's heart leapt with a sudden, unknown hope.
"This. I almost forgot about it." After a moment Gowen felt Strider open one of his hands and place something on his palm. As soon as his fingers closed around the small thing, Gowen's eyes went wide.
"Is it?..."
"It is." The man again embraced the boy. "I got it back to give to you."
Gowen let his fingers glide over the priceless gift he had been given. His walnut shell, the last link he had to the man he had known as father, completely unharmed. It was now Gowen's turn to cry as he held it close. He never dreamed he would ever get it back.
"And I promise you, Little Brother," Strider spoke gently. "I will not rest until I help you find what you have lost. You will know the joys of a family again," he smiled as the twins and Elrond joined the group embrace, all encircled in an endless flame of life and healing light. "I swear it."
00000000
"Are you sure you'll be all right?"
Aragorn nodded and attempted to look reassuring. "I'll be fine."
It was time to bed down, and all that had traveled through the Misty Mountains were in desperate need of fearless sleep. Under the care of his father, any hurts the man had taken had been checked and re-bandaged if needed. He had bathed and dressed, then quickly escorted to his bedside. The twins, Legolas, and Gowen had all already said their biddings of peaceful sleep and left in search of their own. Well after sundown, only Elrond was awake with the man, almost afraid to leave him alone but knowing he must, and that Estel would not allow him to remain much longer.
As of yet, Aragorn would say nothing in regards of how he had received his wounds, though it did not take a lot of guessing for Elrond to know the truth. The elf lord had to go to his twin sons and to Legolas to elaborate, which they did, but not much. Memories far too painful, they could say little. While dealing with the ranger's injuries, Aragorn had begun to tense and flinch under the touch of his father. Hardly noticeable, but it grieved Elrond deeply.
Elrond stood and sighed quietly. "Then I will leave you to sleep. Promise me Estel, that you will call if you need anything?"
"Yes Ada. Thank you..." some of the tenseness that had begun to build between them faded for a moment as Aragorn looked up at his father in the eyes. "Thank you for helping me."
Elrond smiled gently. "Always Estel. You can always come to me for help."
Quickly so as to not test too much the ease his youngest had finally found, the elf lord stooped down and kissed his son on the forehead, "Until tomorrow Estel, sleep well."
Aragorn waited until his father had left the room and was most assuredly out of hearing range.
"Not likely," he groaned to himself. Half of him wanted his father to stay, the other did not. The latter had won the internal debate, even though he had felt it was wrong.
He was now back where it had all begun. In the darkness of his room, unmoving shadows began to play tricks on him, feigning movement and hidden secrets. Hidden things meant to hurt.
It was quiet. Yet every little noise was torture. Even the sounds of the rafters settling gently made him tense. Night sounds from outside kept him awake, his mind awaiting the supposed inevitable return of a being he knew to be dead.
He was alone. And the darkness had finally found the time and place to truly attack him. To really find a way into his heart. It was different than before. Before there was always someone there who understood. There were no claustrophobic walls surrounding him. There had been no reminder of the beginning or the end, only time. Though he desired above all else to live on, he could not stop the voices that seeped into his thoughts.
And they angrily, mockingly, harshly began to rip their way into the deepest recesses of his soul.
Failures returned to haunt him. Memories of battles gone cold, fights ending bitter, choices falling wrong rang ever strong in the forethought of his mind. Things he had presumably gotten over but the guilt remaining, covered up and settled deep so it would not trouble him... until now. Aragorn cringed, his body breaking out in a cold sweat.
Evil, horrid thoughts of the past slammed into his consciousness. And he could not escape it. He couldn't run away. He tried to fight against them with all his energy of heart, but how can you fight something so connected to you, so unexpected? He had little hold over them; but neither would he succumb to their will. Yet that did not stop them from trying. Another voice in his head kept saying that the demons were wrong, that he mustn't listen, but what choice did he have? He could not run away from himself. He couldn't let go of his body the way Elladan had back in the cave, he could not set himself free. As time stretched farther, the voices became darker and full of malice.
For hours they tormented him, beating and bruising his barely revitalized heart. Their lies clogged his senses. Their promises brought new darkness to his eyes.
'Why?' he would painfully wonder so frequently during his suffering, the voice of his soul both small and weak when compared to the challenging rage of his demons. 'Why must I suffer like this? After all that has happened, why must I suffer the torment of myself along with the torment of my enemies? Why does it still have a hold on me?'
At some points during the night he felt a dark, encompassing presence near him. It haunted him. It surrounded him. It tormented him. It drove him to fear and tears as it attempted to consume him. Invisible icy hands reached out to clutch his heart. He was lost in their voices and overpowering will.
All too soon it was too late to cry out. He tried but could not. Their hold on him was too strong. It stayed that way all through the night until dawn began to paint the sky with lighter colors. Only then did they begin to release him, easing up their attack. But it was not the end. Eyes bloodshot and limbs trembling, Aragorn buried himself deeper under the quilts, blocking his ears with his hands. All night he did not sleep. He knew there would be more to come if he did not find a way to make it stop.
In his tears he left imprints of unspoken prayers. Unspoken screams. Unspoken pleas. He could do naught of what he wanted. All he could do was listen. Listen and weep.
00000000
Aragorn never came down for breakfast the next morning. He had surprisingly remained in his room, trying to gather his wits again. There was no where else that he could think of as of yet that could shield him from the others. For a long time he had splashed cold water on his face, slowly regaining control. Yet as sure as he knew anything he knew this:
He couldn't say anything about the previous night. Literally, he could not.
Later into the morning Aragorn had chosen a favorite place on his balcony, breathing in the gallons of fresh mountain air mingled with a touch of Rivendell's calm sense of power and safety. He did feel safe here, parhaps even more than before; he knew he could never be caught again while within Imladris' walls. His safety was not something that concerned him anymore. It was something else.
Elladan found him first in that spot, in that mood. He found his younger human brother sitting quiet and still, unresponsive as he drew near. He was the one who had stated such a simple thing – and it went much deeper than either of them realized.
"Estel, you... you look terrible."
"I'm fine," Aragorn whispered, unable to say anything else. He wanted to, how he wanted to! But he couldn't. The words just wouldn't form.
Elladan shook his head. Though the young ranger's eyes were no longer bloodshot, the darkness in them had begun to wax strong again. He looked gaunt and worn down. Coming back home had not had the desired effect they had all hoped for. There seemed to be something else at work here.
"No, you're not fine. What's wrong Estel? Can I help?"
He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him so badly it hurt. But still, the words refused to come. His mind went blank of all that would have helped Elladan understand.
"I know," he replied heavily, his voice weighed down with the harrowing agony of his soul. Unconsciously, he pulled further away from his older brother. "I just... didn't sleep very well last night."
Though Elladan was more stubborn by nature, he sensed pushing the question wouldn't help either of them. "Do you need anything?"
"No," came the whispered response. "I just... I would like to... be alone."
Aragorn felt like it wasn't even him speaking anymore. Like something else was controlling his voice now. He knew in his heart that being alone was the last thing that he wanted right now. But that didn't matter to what his response had been.
'Please,' he begged in his mind. 'Don't go...'
But Elladan could not see through the invisible wall of defense that had been built in the man's eyes, he could not see nor sense what the other really wanted. He did look a little hurt that his offer of help was being denied. "If that's what you would prefer, then I will oblige. I will check on you periodically, all right?"
Aragorn felt his head nod a little, but no response was forthcoming. Inside himself, Aragorn felt like screaming. Crying. Slamming his fist into the stone wall behind him. But he could do nothing. He could only watch Elladan leave. His heart had been slapped silent.
He had been taken over by demons of memory. Of confusion. Of loss. Created and encouraged by the suffering of the past weeks, they were not ones to be swept away. It only grew worse when he was alone.
00000000
"Ada, I'm worried about Estel."
Elladan confronted his father almost as soon as he had left his little brother alone. He found Elrond in his study, thumbing through a book for Valar-knew-what. Almost immediately as Elladan spoke, the elf lord stopped, set the book aside, and gave his eldest his full attention.
"Did you look in on him like I requested?"
"Yes, but something's wrong. He's not himself." Elladan was acting nervous; he was having trouble keeping firm eye contact with his father.
"What happened?"
"He was out on his balcony when I walked in. He looked terrible Ada; he said he did not sleep well last night. He looked exhausted, frightened even. Last night he seemed to be doing better, but now..." Elladan struggled to continue. "It is as though the darkness in him has spread, though I do not know why."
Elrond let his head bow forward, his eyes shutting for a moment. He was caught in indecision. In his heart he did not want the man to remain alone, it could easily prove dangerous after what he had been through... but it was too soon for him to be forcing out answers so he would know how to help. He did not yet know what was going through the young Dùnadan's head, only time would tell.
"Elladan," he murmured, gesturing his son forward. "Come here."
Elladan walked to him and sat in a chair close by, pulling it closer to his father. When he stopped moving, Elrond looked up at him.
"This is difficult..." the elf lord said, not really knowing what to say. "... to deal with. It is no simple matter. We will have to take each day as it comes Elladan. For right now, I think it would be best to leave Estel alone as little as possible."
"But he said-"
"Do not believe it. No one ever wants to be alone, even after events as traumatic as what has happened. He may have said he wanted to be alone, but it was not him saying it. Do you understand?"
Elladan nodded, his eyes locked on the elf lord's.
"If he does not have a better night tonight, I will give him something to help him sleep. His mind needs care, but his body does too. He cannot continue to go without sleep. Elladan-" Elrond's voice caught a little. "Right now all we can do is let him know we're here for him. If we can hold to that, he can come back to us whole."
"Ada, I fear for him." Elladan's grey eyes grew soft and sad. "I just want to let him know that I'm sorry. I owe him so much."
"Then go be his brother and his friend." Elrond said, taking both his eldest son's hands in his own. "Not his bodyguard, not his shield against hurt... just let him know you trust him to make it through on his own with you at his side. Forcing him to confront his fears would be too dangerous to try at this point. He just needs to know you care, and right now that is the best you can do for him. I will do what I can, and if anything changes I'll let you know what else you can do. But for right now, that should be enough."
Elladan nodded a bit heavily, squeezing his father's hands. "I will. Thank you Ada."
"Go find your brother and Legolas. Even Gowen could help here. Tell them what to do. Stay with Estel, talk to him, and try to get him to both eat and walk around. Tomorrow, if he hasn't had a good night, we'll move up to the next level. But for today, you know what to do."
Elladan nodded again and made to stand. Just before walking away, he hesitated. "Ada, how is Arwen?"
Elrond's face again became grave. "She'll be all right. She too, will need time. If you get the chance, go pay her a visit as well. But I would rather that you focus on your little brother."
"I understand. I just wanted to hear it from you." Elladan turned around and this time he left the room.
Elladan quickly recruited his twin and Legolas, and together they went to Estel's room. Though slightly disheartened by the near unresponsiveness of the young man, they refused to let Aragorn be alone. With no real set plan, they set out to bring him out of his shell. They told stories, joked around, and spoke of anything and everything they could think of. Never once did any of them make mention of the previous month. As time went on, Aragorn began to respond to their lighthearted bantering and eventually joined in, even though it felt only half-hearted. His eyes remained ever dark with heavy hurt. Yet though it did not readily show, the ranger was undoubtedly grateful for their thoughtfulness.
Later in the afternoon, Gowen joined the little family circle. The three elves and the human warmly welcomed him into their midst. Soon Elladan and Elrohir had the teenager laughing so hard with the stories they would tell he had tears rolling down his cheeks, holding his sides for support. For a few of the better stories, Aragorn nearly joined him.
As the day began to fade to night, Gowen turned to the ranger and asked him a rather random question that had been bothering him for a while, even before he had made it to Rivendell.
"Why could Tole find you, even so far away? I have often wondered why he knew how to find you while we traveled home."
Only Gowen parhaps could have asked a question so bold, but Aragorn did not take it badly at all.
The ranger gave a small smile as he thought about it. "... Tole... from the beginning that stallion follows me like I'm his mother."
"But why?"
"Well, then let me tell you about the first time we met." Aragorn answered, stretching slightly and launching into the story with a mixed emotion of regret and joy. "Parhaps that will help."
There was a special time of year during the late months of spring when a herd of wild horses would travel very close to the realm of Rivendell, knowing the valley would be safe during the time of foal birthing. In the valley enemies were fewer and the protection vast. During the late winter months they would claim a large section of the wilds, welcoming new additions to the herd until all the mares had given birth before taking their wandering closer to the land of Rohan.
When Aragorn had reached his late twenties the twins decided to take him to visit the herd. This herd had been coming close to Rivendell for many generations, and every few years the twins loved to go and seek them out. This time, they took their little brother with them.
The herd was deep in the mountains at this point, nearly ready to depart again for the ranges closer to the south. Nearly all the foals had been born and only a few mares were left, still awaiting the time to drop their young. By the time the twins and Aragorn had discovered the herd, only two mares remained deeply in foal.
Aragorn loved watching the herd. He would sit for hours at a time, watching the magnificent beasts play, eat, and interact with each other. He took on a special fondness for the mares still in foal, particularly one with a unique coat pattern of deep copper. She was beautiful. When the ranger pointed the mare out to his brothers, they agreed with him, assessing by her build that her foal would be tall and strong when it came.
Two nights after finding the herd, Elladan woke Aragorn up from a dead sleep, warning him of danger nearby. Wargs were stalking close, Elladan told him, and they all needed to be ready in case the creatures attacked. Since there were only the three of them Aragorn feared little for his safety and his brothers, knowing they could escape easily if the need should arise. He did worry, however, for the herd hidden in the valley nearby where they were.
Just before dawn Aragorn and the twins heard the wargs catch something unlucky enough to become their prey. Following the sounds of the fight for about ten minutes from where they had made their base camp, they discovered the mare Aragorn had favored, badly injured and surrounded by five wargs. She must have left the herd and gone to seek cover to have her child. But what frightened the hunters the most was that the mare was no longer pregnant; she had already given birth to her foal. Nearby and hidden in the forage lay a tiny colt she had brought into the world only minutes before.
The wargs jumped her at once and the fight resumed. By the time Aragorn and the twins broke up the fight and killed the wargs, it was too late. The mare was already dead.
Aragorn was the one to find the foal hidden ten feet away from his mother. After a few wobbly attempts the colt gained his feet and the newborn left the forage to make his way slowly toward the others. Young and immature though he was, the colt could smell death in the air and shied away from the source, not recognizing his mother. Instead, he stopped by the ranger's side and rubbed his head against the man's thigh.
It was the beginning of a deep and loving friendship.
"I did say Tole would follow me like I was his mother, and the truth is that I really did become his mother. When the mare died, he chose me to protect him, and never once have I violated his trust. He has returned my love and care of him with fierce loyalty."
"So he is wild by birth." Gowen was fascinated. "But he was wild... how did you tame him?"
"I didn't have to. He chose me. He was born in the wilds, but since he was young raised in Rivendell. The combination of the wild heart and the wise mind has made him strong in more ways than one. While I travel alone, he is my best friend." Aragorn laughed softly. "He is so protective of me, but he listens when I say I'm fine." He winked at his brothers and Legolas.
Gowen laughed. "I don't know if we should consider that a good thing."
"Hey – hey!" the ranger shook his head indignantly as the Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas all laughed loudly, but then chuckled along with them. Parhaps Gowen was right about that one.
Elrond walked in at that moment. He smiled gently at the scene in front of him. "Forgive me for interrupting," he said, breaking them all out of their mirth. "But I fear it is time for select members of this group to get some rest."
The twins groaned in a plea to be left alone a while longer, but Elrond was firm. He took Gowen with him and left with the warning to the others that they had better find their own ways out to their own rooms before he led them out by their pointed ears.
As they turned to leave, Aragorn gave each of them a brief but full embrace. "Thank you," he whispered to them. "Thank you for helping me today."
"We'll be here as long as it takes, Estel." Elrohir told him. "Don't you question time, or our love."
"You will always have us to lean on. If you need anything, you know who to ask." Elladan playfully ruffled his hair.
Legolas held him the longest. "Much may have changed, but not the way we care about you."
When he was finally left alone, Aragorn could feel it. Could feel both the love and the trust his family had left for him to use, but also the ravenous obscurity that seemed to threaten only him.
Because of that mark it took much longer for the darkness around him to pull him in. But tonight it felt stronger than before, more cruelty and hatred behind its wall of deepening loss. It again trapped him where he lay, invisibly constricting his voice and harnessing his limbs down so he could not move. Was it possible to feel this dark and cold? It felt as though the chill went deeper than skin, deeper the bones. It was cutting off all else, touching his very soul. It spread through him like poison in his veins.
Aragorn clutched his hands to his heart, closing his eyes tightly. Despite his efforts the tears still fell. He still trembled. Over and over again, he was reminded of his weaknesses and failures. So many times, he was nearly overtaken. He gave no sound to anyone outside his room though, he couldn't. He tried, but still failed. He could feel his heart rise and call out, but the plea was choked off. He was left alone all night.
00000000
Elrond could tell the next morning that once again Aragorn had not slept. The aura of agonized darkness around the man was as thick as ever. Knowing that Aragorn would never tell him what was really going on yet or accept any herbs to help him sleep, Elrond disguised some into the man's evening meal. Though he only picked at his food, he must have eaten enough. Within the hour Aragorn left his family, saying he felt inclined to sleep. Elrond prayed it would be for the best.
He was wrong.
Aragorn quickly discovered that he was trapped now in his mind. The drug he had been slipped had taken away all the defense he had previously retained in the past two nights, the only defense he had against his demon's desires for him to fall into despair. And they were now more prevalent, stronger, and angrier. Dreams many times worse than the ones he had endured the first night began to play; eerie, angry, and full of wrath. All too soon Aragorn was lost to his nightmares and their whispered lies turning him upside down.
The dark presence had returned, this time even more powerful, even more encompassing. Its touch seemed to freeze the room. Aragorn pulled away from it, knowing he could not fight something that wasn't real save to his mind. He couldn't battle it with the sword. Couldn't frighten it with an arrow. He had nothing to use against this evil thing that now was beginning to take form, gaining for itself both a name and a face.
Aragorn watched the darkness shape itself into the form of a being similar to his own stature. Only this one distinctly had pointed ears – an elf. This one had black, gaping holes for eyes. He was clothed in shadow. For a long time, they stared at each other. The dark being made no move, for he knew he didn't need to. Unfathomable fear was beginning to flow from the man. Then as if to help the ranger know who he was, lifted one hand to where Aragorn could clearly see it.
The man's eyes grew wide and this time he cried out unrestrained, his breathing coming in quick and sharp. The hand was missing two fingers.
The ranger slid off the bed and backed away from it, down on his hands and knees. He bumped into a table and heard something drop and shatter. Still, it did not stop him. Breathing harshly, cold sweat again breaking out over his body, Aragorn backed himself into a corner and pressed his face away from the creature of darkness. Around him, the shadows of his room began to deepen, spreading until he could see nothing other than himself and evil presence that now had a name.
"Leave me!" he cried, clutching his head between his hands and attempting to urge the being away with his voice. Despite his wounds and weariness of heart, his voice was loud, strong, and desperate. "Be gone! Leave me! Leave me!"
The creature hissed, and gathered such a force around him that Aragorn could no longer call out for his departure. The force began to surround the ranger's body, consuming all the warmth, the light, and the joy out of its prey.
The man began to scream, his body drenched in cold sweat, tears of fear falling down his face. "NO! ADA! HE'S COME BACK! ADA! IT'S MAYRONIEL! ADA, DON'T LET HIM TAKE ME! NO! PLEASE NO!"
A chill, deeper than any he had ever known before, started to encompass his spirit, slowly draining his energy to scream out. Aragorn slammed his bared fists into his wall, leaving several deep indents in the wood. While there was still breath in his body, he would fight against this darkness, even if it would take his life in the end. The combination of the evil presence of Mayroniel and the powerful voices of his demons stole his breath and throttled his cries.
Light, sweeter and clearer than he had ever seen before, began to fill his eyes. The evil being began to draw back, shrieking in sudden anger and fear. The voices began to fade away. Aragorn stared wide-eyed at the light, so pure and free that his tormenters fled entirely.
Upon hearing his cries, one by one his family had rushed into his room. Elrond discovered the man first. A wash basin had been knocked to the floor and it had shattered, spreading water over the rug. There were also traces of blood on the floor, leading to the corner where Elrond found Aragorn. After his attackers had fled from his mind, Aragorn had relaxed into the corner of his room, shaking still and breathing harshly, but no more was he frantic. His face had relaxed, lined in both sweat and tears. He watched the forms of his father, brothers, and best friend, never coming closer or pulling farther away, trying to gauge whether or not they were real.
"Estel," Elrond whispered, kneeling down and trying to bring the man closer to them. "We are here. It's all right now. You're safe."
Slowly, Elrond coaxed his young son out of the corner he had withdrawn to. Slightly ashamed that he had called out so frenetically but forever thankful someone had answered his call, he allowed himself to be pulled into his father's embrace.
"They won't leave me alone..." he murmured softly into the folds of Elrond's sleep tunic. His body had stilled, but his spirit was far from calm. He knew the being and the voices that had tormented him since his time in Ralorn's cave weren't real, but they remained with him nonetheless. He knew he had lost something that they didn't want him to find again. The darkness that now edged his eyes was still so thick, but thinning now that they were gone.
"Then parhaps... there is something that can be done about that." Elrond told him, and with a gentle prod, helped Aragorn rise.
Elladan stepped forward, reaching out as though to reassure his little brother, but Aragorn unexpectedly pulled away from him. The elf twin stopped. Elrond looked at his oldest, shaking his head sadly. 'No,' he seemed to say with his eyes. 'Now is not the time.'
00000000
"Come with me Estel." Elrond gently took his youngest son by the hand and led him away from his room, walking through the halls and corridors until they were outside and heading due west into the forest around Rivendell. Early dawn filled the sky.
"Ada?" Aragorn finally managed to catch his father's attention after they had traveled a short distance. "Where are we going?" his voice still shook slightly from pain, but the fear was gone from his voice now.
Elrond sighed, but did not respond right away. Presently they came to a small clearing circled by tall thick trees, a small mountain spring running through the middle of it, gently bubbling over a natural miniature waterfall. Next to the spring several smooth rocks outlined the gentle rushing of the water, and beyond that only grass and leaves carpeted the ground.
The eldar gently directed the young ranger to a spot next to the small waterfall. "Sit here." Taking hold of Aragorn's shoulders he eased the man into a sitting position, his legs crossed, before sitting down in the same fashion in front of him.
It took Elrond a few moments of peace to sort out in his mind what he wished to say, for so much of it was difficult. The only sounds in the clearing for several moments was Aragorn's deep, weary breathing that spoke of nothing but the heartache that Elrond could feel almost as acutely as if it were his own.
"My son," Elrond whispered, finally reaching forward and taking Aragorn's bruised hands in his own. "I know what it is like to face turmoil and heartache, and I know..." he paused, clearing his thoughts. "...what it can do to a young heart. I know the pain you have taken feels as though it will rip you in two and you must know that more than anything I wish I could erase the memory and take the hurt from your eyes... but I cannot." Elrond locked sad grey eyes on those of his son, the silvery orbs reflecting the sad, dark, weary confusion that stood in the depths of the elf lord's. "I can only try to help you overcome what you have been forced to endure. But you must listen to me and do as I say. It is not hard. Do you understand Estel?"
"Yes Ada," Aragorn nodded slowly, unsure of what his father had in mind. He would soon found out.
"Close your eyes, ion-nin. Do not fear, I am right here." Elrond's hand brushed over Aragorn's eyes, forcing them to close.
Aragorn's hands tightened on those of his father's. "Ada..." his voice was laced with renewed fear. Just shutting his eyes brought back the hint of the darkness that had so consumed him for the past several weeks and had increased in ferocity over the last three days.
'I'm not alone, I'm not alone...' his heart whispered desperately to ease the reality of the voices building in strength again.
"Be still, all is well. Now Estel, listen to my voice. Listen carefully."
Aragorn latched onto the familiar tone that was his father's, striving to listen to only that and nothing else. Already in the back of his mind the agonized voices of the demons that haunted him rose, their wicked promises bringing tears back to his eyes.
"Estel, though you are not immortal, you still have a connection to the world around you that is akin to the way elves are bound to Arda and all good living things. You cannot hear the voice of the trees, nor understand the motion of the ground beneath your feet, but you can still recognize the gentle hum of the song of life around you. Estel, I want you to listen. Search for the connection you have lost. You may not have realized it but all your life you have laid claim to such a tune. When you were trapped under the mountain surrounded by nothing but rock the song was taken from you when fear began to consume your heart. You must find it again now that you are free. You know of the beauty and wonder around you. Listen to it... let it heal the wounds within you."
Elrond lifted one hand out of Aragorn's grasp and placed it on one side of the young man's face, drawing their heads together until their foreheads were touching.
"I am here; I will keep the dark voices away until they cannot harm you any longer. If you wish to speak feel free to say what is on your mind and I will listen. You are strong enough to overcome your fear my son. Let your heart beat freely again. Let it go, and return to me whole."
Aragorn felt his father lean in against him, holding him up. Elrond ceased to speak, but rather content to let Aragorn take in what had been said and make his own choices now.
Aragorn stilled his breathing and focused on his father's words, taking them into heart and mind. Though his eyes were shut, the ranger suddenly realized that the voices were diminishing from his mind, leaving behind nothing but the gentle sense of peace he had all but forgotten... the peace of knowing he was truly safe.
Several silent minutes passed by as the young ranger struggled to reacquaint himself with the world around him. Slowly, the familiarity of the forest returned to gently play a song he had long ago accustomed to Rivendell and her woods. The sweet melody of the birds overhead, the softness of the wind as it blew across his shoulders, the warmth of the sun in the sky, the smell of the earth below. It was almost as if he had never noticed them before, and through his torment it felt as if he never had. With his eyes closed his other senses were assaulted with what the world had to offer, and after several minutes the very touch of a falling leaf against his cheek from the trees above helped warm and sooth the cold ache in his heart.
Yet there was always the part of him that could not let go, could not forget what had happened and how it had all turned out in the end. The balance, or lack thereof, of the good and evil sides was unsettling to him still and as much as hunting down the connection Elrond had described to him had calmed him, the unease always kept capturing it just beyond his reach.
'If you wish to speak feel free to say what is on your mind and I will listen...'
Aragorn had no doubt that Elrond knew and could comprehend the question that had so confused him in the dark hours he had endured. He knew with the unsettling void in his mind as it was he could never fully heal. He needed to know.
"Ada?"
Elrond shifted slightly, as though waking from a deep and revitalizing dream. The song of the forest, of Arda itself had been singing in his mind, soothing his heart in a way nothing else could. Though he was loathe to leave it, he still remembered he was not out here for himself, but for his son.
"Yes?"
"Why does the press of evil feel stronger than that of good?"
Elrond let go entirely of his dream and focused intently on Aragorn's question. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
Aragorn sighed. "It is said that good can always conquer evil, does it not? If that is true, than why does evil continually press so many advantages over us? If the light is so strong, than why can it not destroy the darkness that can plague both the body and the spirit of any and all? It feels as though darkness has so much of an advantage over us, so much more life and will towards its cause. Strong enough to quench what is left of hope and life. I don't understand Ada. How can it be this way? Why is it this way?"
Elrond grew silent, pondering over the burning question. It was one he too had asked over several times in his long life, through times of suffering and hurt. Constantly evil seemed to hold the reins, overthrowing its enemy's defenses and relishing in the sight of frustration and pain. Taking all and giving nothing in return, it was against the way that good worked.
"That is quite a question Estel, one I hardly feel qualified to answer... but I shall try my best." The eldar drew in a hushed breath, deep in thought as he began to speak.
"Estel, when you are warm and you stand in a warm room, you don't notice much of a difference do you?"
Aragorn shook his head against his father's, slightly confused at the queer question. "No..."
"But when you are warm and you walk outside when the cold wind blows... you notice a difference then, correct?"
Aragorn nodded this time. "Yes."
"The same holds true when you reverse it and it is you who is cold and walking into a warm room. You can feel the difference."
Aragorn didn't respond this time, merely waited for his father to continue.
"Estel, I believe that free beings are naturally good. Hate, love, anger, joy... these are all emotions that one is taught throughout trails in their lives, as well as how to react to them. The evil that you feel does parhaps feel more powerful because of the contrast it has on what you have known. You know the light; you have all your life. You have developed a caring and generous heart because of it. You care deeply for the ones who cannot defend themselves, because you understand what it is to feel like you can't. There is no comfort to anyone in knowing you are alone and must fend for yourself, but even when you, Estel, were in horrible conditions, you gave hope to others and gave it freely.
"Yet still, you were taken to a place where the light was gone, you could feel so many differences from what you are accustomed to and darkness was allowed to enter your heart and leave the wounds that it has. It is like you walking outside in the middle of winter without a cloak, without a defense against what you know to be harmful to you. It is a horrible barrier to overcome, young one, but darkness is not and will never be more powerful than light, not ever Estel. At times it may seem more cunning and crueler to limits we do not always understand, continually seeming to have everything to persist with the quest to cover the world in shadow, bondage, and despair. Yet we still hinder it... we still fight it... and to this day we have kept the evil from accomplishing what it still seeks in life."
Aragorn's breath hitched slightly, betraying the fact that he was close to tears. "Throughout this venture it felt as though everything good that happened to me was only luck. When Tole followed me... Arwen secretly helping me... Legolas finding me barely in time... the twins getting out of the cave alive... the fight with Mayroniel... the earthquake... coming home... it all feels wrong, happening in the order and form that it did. It's as though evil can move forward with a clear mind and good is constantly shrouded in uncertainty, leaving everything to chance. How can that be? Is that all this life is? We are lucky to make it through without giving in? We fight but evil remains... parhaps that is all it will ever be."
"No Estel," Elrond again touched his son's face with his hand. "What happened to you was not all only good fortune. It was the stubborn, fighting will of your own soul to remain within this world. That is what evil does not have and will never understand. Hope. Whether you realize it or not, you exist solely on the light of hope and faith that burns bright and deep inside your heart, the desire you have to defend and uphold those whom you love. Evil has no such power and will never understand the potential of an individual. Evil cares little for its allies, there are no friends among them. In the world they know, life is expendable and in the end worthless. All they understand is battle and the destruction of its foes, many times even the destruction of each other. They look to the counting strength and willingness to submit without knowledge; we look to the heart of every fighter and their loyalty. When you know what you are fighting for, they have no power over you; they have no power to turn your heart in the slightest. That is how we overpower evil and it is also how one day we shall overthrow it."
Elrond gently brushed his thumb over Aragorn's cheek, wiping away the tears the man was finally allowing to fall. "You have more conviction in one memory then Morgoth will ever have in his entire being. You have seen both the light and the dark and you know which is more powerful in the end. You know what you want for you, your family, your friends, one day even your children and the generations to come. That is what you fight with - weapons you cannot see and therefore what your enemy cannot overthrow unless you let them. It is something no evil creature will ever truly be able to take from you. Ilúvatar never intended evil to exist in the first song of the world, and evil has no place in the end. One day, it will be no more."
"Shadow has not harmed you Estel. It can only cover you in doubt when you cease to see a way out. The smallest candle can still chase away and consume darkness, it still can shine in the most dense black Mordor has to offer. There is light that no shadow can touch. You have all you need to survive in the most dire of circumstances; all you need now is to believe you can." Elrond's grey eyes bore straight into the silver ones inches from him. "You can, Estel. I know you can. You have nothing holding you back but your own hesitation. Let it go ion... doubt no more."
The man sat for just a moment, reading the truth in the other's eyes. He found such faith in Elrond's gaze, faith in what the eldar knew the ranger was capable of. With tears in his eyes, Aragorn wrapped his arms around his father. To him it felt as though strength was beginning to flow into him, something he had never known before, like the most powerful form of healing that never would have been found in the shelves of his father's herbs confidence and hope.
"Thank you Ada," He whispered after a short while. Already he felt revitalized, bolder and stronger now that his shaken resolve had renewed itself. He had found the lost connection that made him who he was. "It does hurt still... but I do not feel lost any longer."
"How do you feel now Estel?"
Aragorn laughed softly, and for the first time since coming home there was no darkness in his eyes. "I feel I can be as strong as I believe I can... for now I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, which side I fight for and why."