The farmer's son didn't quite understand how it all had happened. By all accounts the day had started out just like every other one: he'd woken up at the normal time in the normal way. He'd put on his clothing as he usually did and then met his father to go outside to feed the livestock. Even the tipped cows wasn't so unusual anymore, not since the children from the farm five miles up the road had gotten old enough to sneak over at night; and, as it normally happened, he had to help Father pick them up and then listen to him complain about it for the remaining duration of their before-breakfast chores. After that it was inside, where Mother was singeing the corners of the bread, as usual, and carrying to the window to cool. That's where the farmer's son got all tripped up, for at that point the day like any other day had turned into one of the strangest days of his life.
What were the chances that four little urchins lost in the wilderness would happen to find their way onto his family's farm of all places? And, out of those odds, what were the chances that said urchins would turn out to be the children of King Elessar and Prince Legolas? When Father had gone out to deal with their unexpected visitors, the farmer's son would have never guessed if he'd been given an entire age to do so that he would come in a few minutes later escorting the half-dressed future king of Gondor and his literally filthy little sisters.
Oh well; no matter what happened next the farmer's son had the comfort of knowing that he at least had recognized Prince Eldarion immediately (well, almost immediately; once his mind had registered what was different about their guests and then processed just who was standing in the kitchen), having once seen in the White City about two years earlier. The face had remained in his memory in no small part because he'd been so struck with how much the boy had resembled the king in a more elvish form; something now that he had been grateful for because the recollection had sufficiently broken through his shock enough for him to remember that he needed to bow.
His mother, having never been to Minas Tirith, did not share her son's knowledge and instead of properly bowing had ended up taking one look into their smudged faces before going on and on about what "poor dears" they were. The farmer's son could understand how she could have dismissed her husband's discreet waves to get her attention while cutting him off when the older Man had tried to talk to her; and he could understand why she had shrugged off his own attempts to silence her by tugging on her sleeve; but he for the life of him would never understand how she could have overlooked the fact that they had pointy ears. The young Man, sufficiently mortified, had finally managed to cut off his mother's concerned tirade long enough to inform her as to her guests identities and let her know that she should join him in bowing and Father, taking advantage of the moment of silence, had reported the prince's tale about how they came to be there. The prince had then spoken to them most politely, saying that all the bowing wasn't necessary as he was grateful for any help that they might offer to him and his sisters.
And so it was that breakfast commenced, with Mother pulling out some food reserves that she kept stashed away for emergencies in order to accommodate the extra mouths before filling some of the empty bottles in the children's packs with fresh milk for the infants. She'd taken the baby in Princess Laurelin's sling to feed and fussed when Prince Eldarion politely refused to relinquish the other, insisting that he could not eat until both babies did; but soon enough both girls had been satiated and all hungry mouths had been fed. Now it was quickly approaching midday and the meal was finally winding down. Mother was getting fresh blankets for the twins' baskets, Father was getting ready to resume his busy day of chores, the prince and older princess were still at the table nibbling on the meal's few leftovers, and the farmer's son was on a horse, nervously riding away from the farm.
It wasn't that he was anxious about going to Minas Tirith – the White City was a fine place and he always enjoyed it when his business brought him there in the past – but this was too much. He, who was no one but a humble farmer, was to somehow march into the citadel and demand an audience with the king of Men and his beautiful-beyond-count spouse. The king and prince seemed like very nice people (as much as they could be, at any rate, being city-dwellers and all), but the farmer's son seriously doubted that they would be too receptive to his intrusion. Prince Eldarion hadn't seemed too concerned about that but he had given him a token that the young half-elf swore that King Elessar and Prince Legolas would recognize. The Man could only hope that the monarchs wouldn't jump to any conclusions and have him arrested or anything before he had the chance to explain this strange morning to them.
As he made his way down to the river the farmer's son couldn't stop himself from letting out a sigh. "I've heard that life has its unexpected twists and turns," he said to the only other being that might be able to sympathize with his plight: his horse, "but this is ridiculous!"
His steed put his ears back in what the young Man chose to interpret as an understanding gesture and stooped his head down to get a drink from the waters. The farmer's son got off to indulge in what little time he would have that day not to be on a horse and was rechecking the buckle of the saddle when his day got even odder yet. "You there!" barked out a voice that startled Man and beast alike. "Halt! In the name of King Elessar and Prince Legolas of Gondor, stay where you are!"
Very, very slowly so that he didn't surprise them into doing something rash the farmer's son turned around to see – of all things in those remote parts – two Men in official garb riding up quickly to him. From the style of their garments and their words he surmised that they were from Minas Tirith; the design and colors on their livery made him guess that the older and younger Men were guards of the citadel or some other important place. However, what really struck him about them was how it looked as if they'd spent the last night or so in a ditch while wearing said fancy uniforms. First the unkempt appearance of the children and now this – goodness, had every important person from Minas Tirith wandering around the northern farmlands un-bathed?
"Good morning," said the farmer's son politely, which he would have done anyway even if they were glaring at him with murderous suspicion. "What can I do for you fine gentlemen this morning?"
"We're searching for someone," Beren told him in a scratchy voice. The two guards had just spent the last hour or so riding as slowly as they could bear down the river, calling for the children until their voices got hoarse. He eyed the young farmer that stood before him and wondered how many details he should offer this stranger about their task. "Have you seen anything or anyone around here that seems out-of-place? A noise, something strange that's been left somewhere where it just doesn't go…a stray child or two, perhaps?"
"Boy, have I!" cheered the farmer's son naively, excited at the prospect of having not one but two guards go before him into the citadel already believing his tale. "You're searching for the prince and princesses, correct?"
Beren dismounted in an instant and charged forward like one who was barely sane. The young Man backed up nervously against his horse as the older guard got almost nose-to-nose with him. "You've seen them?" he demanded. He seized the farmer's son by his tunic with both fists and was barely able to keep himself from shaking answers out of him. "I suggest that you start talking right now!"
"Beren, stop," urged Eldacar soothingly, coming up behind his partner and placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. "This isn't necessary, not yet and hopefully not at all. Let him go."
Drawing in a deep, steadying breath that did very little to soothe his nerves Beren forced his clenched fingers to uncurl and slowly brought his hands away from the alarmed young Man. "I apologize," he choked out. "But it so happens that we are looking for the prince and princesses. You've seen them, yes? Where were they when you last laid eyes upon them?"
"In my home!" answered the farmer's son, gesturing in the direction that he'd just come from. "They're at my family's farm, about a mile from here; I would guess that they're still in our kitchen. That's why I'm out on my way now – I'm to go to Minas Tirith to tell the king and prince about that. How fortunate that our paths crossed!"
"Fortunate indeed," Eldacar told him gravely. He could only imagine what might have happened to the poor family that was sheltering the prince and princesses if the guards had stumbled across them apparently doing nothing to reunite the children with their parents. No guard – not him and definitely not Beren – would have been willing to believe their claims that someone had been sent to Minas Tirith. "You would not have found King Elessar and Prince Legolas there. They are somewhere searching in the wild."
"Oh no!" cried the farmer's son in dismay. "I must see them – I promised my parents and the prince and princesses that I would. Could either of you tell me where I could find them?"
The older guard crossed his arms and stood firm. "You don't need to know where they are right now," he said in a no-nonsense tone, his eye twitching slightly. "You're not going anywhere until you lead us to where the prince and princesses are. Once we see that your story is true or not – that they are there, alive and unharmed – we will talk about the manner in which you'll be brought before King Elessar and Prince Legolas."
"That's reasonable," replied the farmer's son cautiously. So they were more important than normal citadel guards – they were members of the royal guard. They must have started their searching as soon as they had discovered that the children were missing; which, according to Prince Eldarion, had been two days at least – quite a long time for a protector to be separated from those whom he was supposed to protect. It was little wonder that the one guard had almost attacked him when he brought up the prince and princesses so casually. "I can take you there right now if you so please."
"Trust us," said Eldacar dryly as Beren darted back to his horse. "We do so please."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Eldarion was finally feeling somewhat normal again as he sat on the bench by the table with his feet curled up under his legs. He had declined the farmer's wife's offer to fill up a tub with warm water for him and his sister to bathe in – he did trust his hosts, but not enough yet to let himself leave him and his siblings in that vulnerable a position – but had delighted when the kind woman had brought into the kitchen some washing cloths and combs before heating up some water over the fire. Once he and Laurelin had washed their hands and faces and he'd helped her run a comb through her unruly hair the boy was again thrilled by the farmer's wife's generosity when she brought him a tunic that had once belonged to her son to wear. The feel of the fabric against his skin harshly made him aware of just how badly his exposed skin had been sunburned but it was nice to be wearing a shirt again all the same.
Now that he was more or less put together again he could more fully appreciate not having to worry about where his and Laurelin's next meal would come from or how long the babies' food was going to last. His dear little sister was sitting beside him in a plain dress (borrowed from their benevolent hostess while the kindly woman let Laurelin's mud-stained dress soak), eating some fresh vegetables and looking quite content. The farmer's wife was across from them feeding Meren. Gilraen was stretched out in front of him on the bench while he finished pinning a diaper that wasn't made out of one of his tunics into place. Scooping her up into his arms Eldarion decided that this was about as good as life could get until their parents finally came for them.
The farmer, taking longer than usual to collect the supplies he would need for the day's chores out of fear that one of the children were hurt or sick in a way that they didn't realize yet and his assistance would be needed, finally opened the door to head outside and stopped short. "What in the name of all that's good in Middle-earth?" he wondered, annoyed in the way that fathers tend to get when their children do something that makes absolutely no sense to them as he stared out at the second unexpected sight of the morning. "What is that boy doing back here so soon? And who is it that he's gone and brought back with him?"
The next person who spoke was not one of the children, his wife, or his son but someone entirely different altogether. "Prince Eldarion! Princess Laurelin!" called a voice that was very familiar to the two half-elves, though they'd never heard it so panic-stricken before. "Where are you?"
"Goodness!" squealed Laurelin in delight, thrilled to hear someone that she knew. Her blue eyes were wide as she grinned up at her big brother while outside the sound of horse footfalls came very close to the house and then suddenly ceased. "That's Beren! Hello, Beren!"
A wordless cry came from outside and seconds later the farmer leapt back as an older Man in a disheveled guard's uniform burst into him home. Beren knew that it was rude of him to do so but he couldn't bring himself to care; all he cared about at that moment was seeing the faces that belonged to or accompanied that wonderful greeting. "My sweet princess! My brave prince!" he cried, his eyes filling with tears when he at last laid eyes on them.
Stumbling he rushed forward, falling to his knees in front of the children. Laurelin was quick to fling her arms around him happily; Eldarion had his arms full already but he did lean into the Man's arms when Beren carefully hugged him as well. One twin was too busy eating to notice him (although the guard did watch the baby for a good amount of time to make sure that she was all right and the stranger holding her wasn't doing her any harm) while the other cared more about playing with her brother's hair than about his entrance but Beren was heartened to see them looking well. It was all that they could have hoped for come true and the Man sent a silent thanks to the Valar for protecting the children when he couldn't.
Eldacar had entered right behind him with the farmer's son. The children recognized him at once and gave him bright smiles as he too made his way over to them and assessed their well beings. "Are you hurt in any way?" he asked.
"No," replied Eldarion.
"His back hurts," reported Laurelin at the same time.
"I've got a sunburn," rescinded Eldarion when Eldacar and Beren looked at him with distress. "It's nothing."
"Let me see it," requested Eldacar. The prince complied, turning so that his back was facing the young guard, who lifted up his new tunic to see the damage. "It's not too bad; just a few patches of red here and there. I have some aloe in my pack," he added, putting down the tunic to root through his belongings and pull out a vial. "It could have been a lot worse. A lot worse…oh Valar, we've all been so worried about you! The poor king and prince" –
"They have been doing everything in their power to find you," interrupted Beren abruptly, sending his partner a meaningful look. It was not their place to tell the children all about what their parents had endured during their absence; especially not now, when they'd been through so much already. He hoped that Eldacar realized that too.
Eldarion's ears perked up at the mention of his beloved ada and papa. "Does that mean that they're not in Minas Tirith?" he asked, almost bursting with how much he longed to see them. The guards shook their heads. "Are they close by, then? Where are they?"
"About ten leagues south of here, searching for you," replied Eldacar, taking Beren's hint. "Not as far away as the White City, but not terribly close either. We'll have to push hard to get you back to them before the sun sets." He turned to the farmer. "Do you have any carts or wagons that we may borrow so that we can take the prince and princesses to their parents?"
The Man shook his head. "Not at the moment," he said apologetically. "I let my cart to a farmer up the river a few days ago."
"Then we'll simply have to bring the king and prince here," said Beren, thinking more clearly now that he knew that the children were safe. "Without having to haul a cart the horses could possibly be able to get to them in time so that they make it here before nightfall. You go, Eldacar; and take this young Man with you," he added, nodding to the farmer's son. "King Elessar and Prince Legolas will want to hear what he has to say. I will stay with the prince and princesses until your return."
The young guard nodded and with one final look of joyous relief at the children he exited with the farmer's son at his heels. The door had barely shut behind them when Beren held out his arms toward Eldarion. "Please allow me to take the princess, my prince," he asked kindly. "It's all right now. You should get some sleep – you look exhausted."
Exhausted didn't seem like an adequate enough word to describe the fatigue that he was feeling. Now that there was someone around that he knew and trusted completely to watch over his sisters he felt the days' worth of sleep he'd missed come crashing down on him full-force. "I would really like some of that," Eldarion almost sobbed.
He handed the child over and managed to tell Beren that the baby that he was holding was Gilraen and that she would be hungry again soon before falling asleep where he sat. The farmer came over and gently lifted him up, carrying him into the next chamber over. There Eldarion was settled into a comfortable chair, where he did not stir for hours.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Why is it," asked Gimli as he wiped his brow and squinted through the bright afternoon sun to glance at Legolas, "that the laddie feels the need to go to see a bunch of trees first thing every time that we move to a different area?"
"He is asking them for information," replied Thranduil as he watched his son lay his palm reverently on the trunk of a majestic oak tree. He frowned and bowed his head when Legolas' shoulders sagged a little. "It is the trees that will hear the rumors of the land long before we discover them, so it is in them that he places much of his hope."
"But what would these trees know that the ones back there didn't?" persisted Gimli, frustrated at the thought that Legolas' hopes were repeatedly getting dashed when there was nothing that he could do to stop it. "And will they tell him if anything changes and they do find something out? Aüle, I've been a part of this family for almost twenty years and I still don't understand how it all works with elves and talking trees!"
Aragorn was only half-listening to his father-in-law's exchange with the exasperated dwarf. While it was strangely comforting to once again hear them carrying on like an old married couple, just as they used to do in happier times, the other half of his mind and attention was focused solely on the search; and such banter, amusing though it might be, was proving to be a distraction. "At least Legolas is doing something useful," he spoke up, not caring to take the time to be more subtle.
"Aye, and so are we," Gimli told him sagely, ponderously stroking his braided beard as he watched Legolas move on to another tree. "We're taking the time to be worried about him and you both, since neither of you seem too concerned about taking care of yourselves. Your husband has been through so much in not a lot of time and I was just making sure that he wasn't starting to crack."
"He's not," said Aragorn somewhat shortly. He did a preliminary scan of the surround land for any signs of obvious hiding places, shelters, or paths but none were evident. "But please let me be there if you ever suggest to him that he is."
Gimli opened his mouth to retort something witty but Thranduil cut him off with a pointed glare. "There is no time for that now," he scolded them both, though – to Aragorn's grim amusement – the elven king's eyes never left the dwarf. "Come with me, my friend; Elladan and Elrohir have already taken it upon themselves to search the western part of the perimeter. Let us take the eastern part and put this verbal nonsense aside! There will be plenty of time for it later, after our grandchildren are back with their family where they belong."
Tugging at Gimli's collar in a way that struck Aragorn as a mother cat retrieving one of her kittens, Thranduil pulled him for a few steps before the dwarf accepted that they were doing what the elf ordered and started walking on his own. They passed by Legolas going the other way, back to his husband's side, and they tried to ask him how he was; but the prince only offered a fleeting answer before he continued on. Something had him riled up, Aragorn couldn't help noticing, and he appeared intent on filling the Man in on what he'd just found out.
"Aragorn," said Legolas urgently, grabbing his love's arm.
Aragorn's heart immediately started beating faster. "The trees know something about the children?" he asked anxiously, desperately, as he seized his husband's hand.
"Nothing beyond the vague rumors and faint whispering that all the previous trees heard about," reported Legolas. His spirit was somewhat dampened at this reminder that he had no new information about their children but he wouldn't let them stay that way for long. He'd simply lost or almost lost too much already to give up hope; and beside, said spirit was still sparked by what he did know. "But they hear tell of people coming. The trees say that two riders are seeking us out; they are apparently causing quite a disturbance as they do so."
"Now what?" groused Aragorn. The optimist part of him was elated, half-expecting that it was news – good news – that the overall search had not been in vain; but he could not bear to get his hopes up that high only to have them dashed. After all, they had had very little in the way of good news as of late and the possibility of it rushing to meet them now seemed very unlikely.
"Now nothing," responded Legolas as he looked over his shoulder. "We wait for it."
The Man followed where his husband's eyes were turned. "Do you know how far off they are?" he wondered.
"I can faintly hear their horses' footfalls," Legolas told him, quieting his mind to listen to the sound and to his instincts. Suddenly a wave of calmness washed over him and he was left with a strangely content feeling. He shivered at the burst of emotion.
This was not overlooked by his husband, who looked at him with great concern. "I'm all right, melanin," said the elf before Aragorn could ask the question. "It was just – odd. It felt like, for an instant all of this was behind us." He shook his head as if to clear it. "Anyway, they are coming from the south. Judging by how fast it sounds like they're riding I would guess that they'll be here in about fifteen minutes."
There was nothing else to do but carry on as they would have if no one had been riding up to them at all and wait for whatever was coming; and that was exactly what the royal couple did. As they walked along bent toward the ground in search of some clues, however, Aragorn couldn't help noticing that a certain lightness had returned to Legolas' step and demeanor. That had to be a good sign – Mithrandir had always said that Legolas possessed a penchant for foresight. Aragorn had witnessed this several times during their lives together and believed it to be true even when the young elf usually brushed it aside as just strange feelings. Perhaps they were about to get a little bit of luck at last after all. They were certainly due for it.
Sure enough, about fifteen minutes had passed before Aragorn too heard the footfalls; from two horses if his senses hadn't utterly failed him, just as Legolas had reported. The sound drew the attentions of the twins, Thranduil, and Gimli too, and they all started making their way back to the royal couple while trying to maintain the façade that they were giving them their space. The muted thunder of the footfalls escalated until at last the two riders came into sight: the guard Eldacar and another young Man whom no one there recognized.
"King Elessar! Prince Legolas!" shouted the guard frantically, and he had every right to feel frantic. After leaving the farm Eldacar had made his way south along the unfamiliar trail of the river with only the farmer's son's sometimes cloudy memory to guide him. When they'd finally come to the place where the king and the prince were supposed to be they'd found it empty – a natural consequence of productive searching, not looking over and over the same area, but a source of panic nonetheless. Eldacar ended up having to go farther south than he would have liked, all the way to the base camp so that he could find out where they were. Now the day was growing old and the chances that they would be able to make it back to the farm anytime before tomorrow were fading fast.
The couple rushed up to meet him as the young guard and his counterpart slowed their steeds to a stop. "What news?" demanded Aragorn immediately while his heart pounded very loudly in his ears.
"They're all right," announced Eldacar, who looked ready to weep with joy. "I've seen them with my own eyes and they're fine, all four of them."
"Our son and daughters? You've seen them?" asked Legolas ecstatically. His delighted cry carried over to the rest of the family and they made haste to come over and hear the news for themselves. Eldacar nodded so enthusiastically that it was amazing that no one heard his brain rattling. "Thank Elbereth! And thank you, Eldacar – this will not be forgotten! Where are they now?"
"On this Man's family farm," answered Eldacar promptly, indicating to his travel companion. The young Man in question stared in awe when the prince smiled up at him. "We didn't have any way of bringing them down here; so Beren stayed behind with them while we came to find you."
"I want to know everything," ordered Aragorn, elated and desperate for more information. He looked over at the stranger. "How did the prince and princess come to be on your land?"
The farmer's son was unable to speak at first. It was too much for his beleaguered mind to process; he hadn't had a chance to recover from seeing Prince Legolas smile like that (if he lived as long as elves did, he knew, he would never see a more beautiful sight) and now the king was speaking to him directly. Before he could take the time to properly take it all in King Elessar cleared his throat impatiently and the Man remembered all that could happen to him if he displeased a monarch.
"They came up our walk and Father invited them in and Mother made more food and I was sent out to let you know where they are, your majesties," reported the farmer's son quickly and with one breath. He panted heavily as he reached down to his waistband. "I don't know all of what brought them to the farm; all Prince Eldarion said was that they had been walking, and that their parents didn't know where they were. He also bade me to give you this so that you'd know that I'm telling you the truth."
He brought forth the token given to him by the boy and placed it carefully into the outstretched hands of the king, who grasped it as if it were a priceless treasure. "It's Eldarion's hunting knife," he announced to the others. It was far too bloody for everyone's tastes to be owned by a twelve-year-old boy – the crown prince had obviously not had the time to wash it – but they knew from Tanondor that Eldarion had taken it with him. There was little reason to doubt hope now – identical grins spread across the twins' faces and a thrilled Gimli clutched at Thranduil's hand.
Legolas took the knife from his husband gingerly, as if he was afraid that it would vanish upon closer examination, examining it for himself. "Smart boy," he whispered. "Taking it from that awful Man and sending it to us once he'd found a safe place." He sprang forward and embraced Aragorn, planting an enthusiastic kiss square on his lips. "It's almost over, my love; our children are safe and we're going to see them again!"
"Yes, as soon as we can," agreed Aragorn. He looked up at the sun and frowned at its position. "You two have our eternal thanks. Now, see to it that your horses get some water and whatever rest they may. The day is growing old and we will have to ride out again soon if we have any hope of returning to your farm before we have to make camp for the night."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Eldarion stared out of the kitchen window in dismay as he watched the world outside grow darker and darker. The sun would almost be set soon and he knew in his heart that his ada and papa wouldn't be able to navigate through the unfamiliar lands at night, at least not without a remarkable guide – and they would have none with them. Not even the smell of food cooking could cheer his heart at that moment. "I thought that they'd come today," he lamented softly.
"My prince? Please come away from that window and get something to eat," coaxed Beren gently. The boy was reluctant to oblige but seeing the crestfallen expression on Laurelin's face moved him. He went to the table and sat between his sister and the guard, putting a comforting arm around her. Beren smiled at this and squeezed his shoulder. "You will see your parents again soon; even if they must wait for first light tomorrow to finish their journey here."
"He's right, Laurelin," Eldarion managed to smile. Although he couldn't help feeling disappointed he knew that he had to be strong or else he'd further upset the little girl. Trying to put it out of his mind he thanked the farmer and his wife for the food and busied himself with getting his little sister's plate filled up. "What do you want to have first" –
"Eldarion! Laurelin! My dear babies!"
The boy dropped the piece of bread he'd been holding. "Ada! That's Ada!" he cried, grabbing his beaming sister's hand and rushing them both to the door without asking to be excused. "Ada! Papa! You're here, you're here, you're here!"
Aragorn and Legolas saw the door of the humble farmhouse fly open and heard the responding cries but still could not let themselves fully believe that the nightmare was really over until at last they beheld their two eldest children with their own eyes. The sight of Eldarion and Laurelin running toward them hand-in-hand was almost too much for Legolas' senses to take on and he nimbly jumped down from his horse before the animal had completely stopped to get to them. Aragorn followed suit, almost tripping in his stirrups as he dismounted in what was not the safest fashion.
Running as fast as they could – which never would have been fast enough – the four met halfway on the walk in the dying light of dusk. Eldarion fleetingly remembered his wish that morning that they would be back with their parents again before the end of the day and as the royal couple fell to their knees and drew him and Laurelin into a four-way embrace he knew that were finally safe.
"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you," sobbed Aragorn to whoever was responsible for their happy reunion. "Oh, I love you two so much, so much."
"Are you two all right?" asked Legolas, pulling away from his children only enough to check to see if all of their limbs looked unharmed an intact. Eldarion and Laurelin nodded and he was relieved to see that there was nothing evidentially wrong with them, not even Eldarion's sunburn that Eldacar had told them about. "You're both perfect - I should have remembered how perfect you are, mysweet, sweet children. We were so - but now you're here - I love you both more than I can say." He threw his arms around them again, delighted to be able to hold them once more but keenly aware that two other people were missing. "What about your sisters? Where are they?"
"My king, my prince," spoke up Beren as he came up behind the two children. The farmer and his wife followed, each with one of the infants in their arms.
The king of Gondor and his prince consort, along with their older children, rose to their feet and accepted Gilraen and Meren from the farmer and his wife. It was a difficult task holding each baby close to their bodies in a way that the other parent could readily see each one but Legolas and Aragorn were very experienced at that sort of thing by now and managed to pull it off. "Hello, Meren; hello, Gilraen; have you two forgotten who we are?" whispered Aragorn softly.
Identical pairs of wide blue eyes stared up at them, asking their parents not who they were but what had taken them so long to get there. "No," said Legolas with a quiet happiness that was so intense that it almost hurt to feel it. He bent down and kissed both infants. "It would take a lot more than this to make our daughters forget us." He tore his eyes away from his children long enough to look at the couple who had temporarily taken them in. "Thank you so much for what you've done."
The farmer and his wife began to bow but Aragorn would have none of that. "You have sheltered our children; gave them food, water, and clothing; and used your time and resources to return them to us," he said solemnly. "And we will have to continue to impose on your hospitality until tomorrow, if you will allow it. As far as I am concerned, from this day onward you bow to no one."
To be continued…