Hello! As I rewrote chapter 5 (again), this is the new reading order: 1, 2, 3, 4a, 5, 6 or 1, 2, 3, 4b, 6.

°°°°° Chapter 5 (only after reading 4a): Eastwards

"We have to follow him!" Elrohir exclaimed softly. "Who knows what might befall him out there, and a snow storm is coming. Ada, we have to go!"

Elrond nodded minutely, but then he gazed out of the window into the dark night, and his face was grave. "We cannot follow him in this weather, and not in the darkness. It would be folly."

"But ada," Elrohir insisted, his voice pleading, "he could die out there. Estel is wounded and hurt, and the woods, even so close to Imladris, are dangerous. The winter has driven the wolves into our forest, and a hungry wolf is desperate to kill. Not to mention the cold."

"Ah, Elrohir, do not think me heartless, but to seek him out now is suicide." Elrond sighed, and his eyes seemed distant, as if he wished to be somewhere else entirely.

Seeing that his father would not agree to his plight to follow Estel, Elrohir turned to his twin. Elladan had not yet said anything; he stood motionless, his face like stone.

"Dan, please. We have to follow him and bring him back before it is too late."

With held breath Elrohir waited for his brother to say something, to join him in his plea; but when Elladan spoke, his words cut like ice.

"No, we will not follow him."

"Pardon?" Disbelieve coloured his voice, and Elrohir could do nothing but shake his head in utter denial of his twin's words.

Turning and facing him directly, Elladan held up a hand, "We will not follow him. YOU will follow him, alone, for I do not think he would listen to us. But there is a chance that he might listen to you, as you were the only one who did not…did not hurt him as we did."

Elladan sighed deeply, regret and shame in his whole demeanour, but Elrohir could also see the wisdom in his words.

"Ada? What say you?"

The Lord of Imladris gazed at his sons for a long time, and when Elrohir thought that his father would not say anything at all or dismiss this idea, Elrond nodded. "Go, Elrohir. Find him and bring him back, so that we can try to mend what we have broken. Be swift, but careful, ion nin."

"Thank you, ada, Dan." And with that, Elrohir turned and fled the corridor and the empty room of his brother, that said more than words. Hope had left the Last Homely House, but with a bit of luck and the help of Iluvatar, it would be returned.

°°

The night was cold, and the wind harsh and sharp, but Aragorn did not falter in his steps, or stop his feet from carrying him westwards, away from light and laughter, home and hope. Inside of him, his heart was bleeding, but at the same time it was cold as ice, having lost the sparkling fire that it housed.

He did not know for how many hours he had travelled through the snowy woods, or indeed through the darkness, when he suddenly hear the roaring of water in front of him. After a few more steps, he felt the pebbles and sand of the banks of the Bruinen under the soles of his leather boots.

The Bruinen lay before him, wide but shallow; the wind picked up tiny water droplets and threw them at him, cutting into his exposed skin like sharp needles, and so near to the river the air was even colder than it had been in the forest.

Aragorn shivered, and stopped at the bank of the river. For a long moment he simply stared at the dark water, unmoving, barely breathing. A few more steps, some mere seconds, and he would leave the realm of his foster father and leave Estel forever behind him. Once he crossed this frontier, he would not return -ever- he knew.

But, was he yet ready to trade pain for comfort, tears for laughter, and loneliness for family? Was he ready to embrace the darkness of Arda alone and abandoned, with nothing to look forward to and no one there to help him and hold him in the cold nights? Was he ready to surrender his soul to a life without love and warmth?

For Aragorn knew, that should he chose to cross the river, he would forever chose darkness over light, and coldness over warmth.

Yes, he had his ranger, and Legolas, but it was not the same as a family. A family was something he could fall back to when he fell; a family would help him up when he stumbled, would cry with him when he did and sooth him when he despaired. A family would take him back with loving arms should he fail, and would guide him even in the darkest of nights.

But is that still so? He asked himself. Has your family not just shown you that this is not true? Has your family not let you fall, and stumbled and let you despair? Has your family not led you to seek the darkness of the coldest night, instead of the warmth that it could provide?

Alas, in his mind and reasoned thought he knew that it was true, but his heart told him otherwise. Oh, how he wished to have an answer to his questions what to do, some means to quieten his thoughts and insecurities.

He took a step towards the roaring water, but then stopped again. Should he really go and leave Imladris? Seek his luck in the wild, or perhaps in the unfriendly company of The Prancing Pony? Was the Wild really better than the place he had called home since he was two years old?

A sigh escaped his lips, only to mist in the cold air and be drifted away by the wind. Aragorn turned and gazed back into the black forest behind him. All was silent besides the river, and already his footsteps had been partly covered by the falling snowflakes?

Had they noticed that he had left? Were they glad that he had? For surely they had send no one after him, otherwise he would have been found by now. Had his foster father not told him not to leave Imladris, but stay as long as he wished to do? Aye, he had, but in the undertone Aragorn had heard what his father had not said aloud: That he did not truly wish to see him, and that it would indeed be better if he left.

Elladan had accused him of horrible things, and had been short from hurting him physically, or at least that was what Aragorn felt. No, Elladan surely had no desire to see him again. And Elrohir? Elrohir… No, he had not accused him, or yelled at him. He had been the only one who had at least tried to look logically at all that had been said and done.

But still, his brother had not defended him either, had not stood up to him or come to him during the night to talk to him or seek and explanation. Had Elrohir given up on him as well?

Another sigh escaped him, and Aragorn let his gaze travel over the water. The white flakes that danced from the heavens grew thicker and increased in number; soon a snow storm would cover the lands in ice and snow, and Aragorn knew that he had to make a decision.

Cross the river and leave, or return and try to … try to what? Explain to his family what had happened? Would they listen?

He did not know, neither what to think nor what to do, and so he stood near the edge of the dark water, unmoving and waiting. The snow soon covered his hair and shoulders, but he did not move, could not. He stood and waited, the battle between mind and heart raging.

°°

Elrohir had taken the fastest horse in the stable, and charged away into the night. It was dark, but he guided his horse by instinct and years of experience, and the loyal horse did not stumble once. While he travelled, the wind picked up and the snow fell thicker, covering branches and trees with the white ice.

It was silent in the forest, as if all the animals held their collective breath in anticipation of what was to come, and Elrohir had the feeling as if this night would not only decide over the fate of his family, but over all of Arda.

With silent words he urged his horse to go faster, ignoring the branches that scratched his face, or the snow and wind that made his skin and eyes burn. Only one thing was important to him, and that was to find his brother and bring him back.

Nevertheless, despite his hope that he would indeed find Aragorn, he did not know whether it had been a wise idea to go alone. What if he was injured? What if he needed medical help that he could not give him? And what if he found Aragorn, but he had no intention to come back with him?

Had they not hurt him? Had they not accused him? Had they not made him feel unworthy and unwanted? Had they not yelled at him and ignored his words? Had they not damaged what had taken years to become? Had they not trampled down that which had taken nearly a lifetime to grow?

Aye, they had, but still… if there was no hope to mend what had been broken, then why was there such a word as "hope" at all? Was hope not just a wish, that that which we fear most might not come true? Meant clinging to hope perhaps only, that we are not yet ready to accept the inevitable? Does hoping not only prolong the suffering of out heart?

Elrohir could not help but to think of all these things as he sped through the nightly forest, ever westwards, hoping that he would find hid brother. Oh, he would ride as far and as long as he needed to, and he knew that should he not find his brother, he would ride even further west, till he reached the sea, and perhaps even further.

°°

Aragorn did not know for how long he stood at the rivers edge, but when the sun rose weakly and the snow ceased to fall, he blinked and roused himself out of the motionless void he had been in. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, noticing only dimly the amount of cold snow that fell to the ground as he did so.

He felt cold, and could not fell his fingers any longer, but while he had stood, he had come to a decision. He was proud and stubborn, strong and wise beyond his mortal years, but this time it was not his mind that had won the battle, but his heart.

And his heart told him, that it was not yet too late, but that he shall return to the Last Homely House. He had still things to do there, and he could not leave as he had. He needed to return, if only to say his final farewell.

And with that, Aragorn turned, and took a step back, away from the river. Just then, a shape broke through the trees, rushing towards him quickly. In any other case, Aragorn would have been able to jump to the side, to avoid the collision, but the cold night had made him numb and stiff, and his limbs and muscles would not obey his command.

So, he could only stare as the horse sped towards him, catch a quick glimpse of the dark haired figure on the steed, and then close his eyes as the horse barrelled straight into him, sending him crashing to the ground and then into the cold water.

He heard a frightened neighing and a familiar voice yell something, but then the icy water engulfed him, and he knew no more.

°°

Elrohir could not believe his eyes, and he had been so immersed in his dark thoughts, that he was too late to rein in his horse. With terror he watched how he practically trampled his brother, how Aragorn was thrown into the icy river, and then was slowly carried away by the current, face down.

"Estel!"

His horse neighed agitatedly; it had tried to escape the collision, but its momentum had been too strong. With more speed than grace Elrohir dismounted, forgetting the steed for the time being, and ran towards his brother's motionless form.

"Estel!"

With wide strides Elrohir rushed into the waist deep water, instantly feeling his legs become numb and his body shiver with the cold. But he did not stop, and instead strode out wider, fighting against the current and at the same time using it to reach his brother.

Finally, Elrohir reached out with his hand, and caught hold of Aragorn's cloak. Pulling and practically swimming with the river now, Elrohir pulled his brother towards him, and then quickly rolled him onto his back to lift his face out of the water.

With pleading words on his lips, the elf struggled for the bank, and then lifted Aragorn completely out of the water. He laid him on his back in the snow, and then felt for his pulse with fingers that shook not only because of the cold.

It took some long moments ere Elrohir sighed in relieve upon finding the pulse, fast and erratic; with nothing to wrap his brother in, as he had left Imladris with all haste, Elrohir looked around frantically.

Aragorn's lips had turned blue, and his skin was whiter than the snow he was laying on. His dark hair was contrasting starkly to his skin, and his long eyelashes only intensified the feeling that death had already claimed him.

But no, he breathed still, and Elrohir would do all in his might to hold his spirit on Arda. Looking around, shivers racing through his wet and cold body, his eyes finally lighted on his horse. The steed stood near the edge of the river, tail swishing agitatedly, and snorting softly.

The horse…

"Come here, mellon nin, come here." The horse eyed him a second, but then obeyed and trotted to his side, nuzzling his shoulder affectionately. Elrohir patted its muzzle for a moment, and then bid the horse to lay down beside them in the snow.

Without hesitation, the elvish horse did as it was told, and only a moment later Elrohir sat huddled against the horse's side, with Aragorn cradled in his arms. He felt the warmth of the animal, and he hoped that it was enough to rouse Aragorn enough to wake him.

It would not be enough to safe him, but perhaps it would be enough to wake him, so that Elrohir could show him that he was not alone, that he had come to apologize. And Elrohir hoped that, once his brother knew his heart, he would hold on and survive the journey back to Imladris.

The sun finally peeled out behind the clouds, and the sky changed from grey to blue. In the trees behind them, some birds twittered and greeted the sun, and the golden rays felt wonderful warm on Elrohir's face.

Suddenly, Aragorn began to tremble and shiver violently in his arms, and Elrohir quickly bent over him, talking to him and calling his name.

"Estel, please, wake up. Come back to the light, muindor nin. Estel? Estel, can you hear me? Please, I am so sorry, come back to me please. Oh, Estel, please."

The shivers only increased, but Elrohir knew that to be a good sign. Aragorn's body was fighting the coldness, and Elrohir rubbed his brother's arms and chest more vigorously in an attempt to help.

Slowly, the trembling ceased, and after a few more minutes, Aragorn's eyelids fluttered open. He blinked, and then his grey eyes focused on the face above him.

"Elrohir?" Aragorn said with chattering teeth, his whole body still shivering from time to time.

A huge smile formed on Elrohir's face, despite the tears that now flowed freely down his cheeks,

"Aye, Estel. It is me."

"What…are you d-doing here?"

"Oh, Estel, I am so sorry. So sorry." And with that, Elrohir hugged his brother tightly, rocking back and force, all the while murmuring how sorry he was, and telling him how much he loved him, no matter what had happened or what he had done.

It was only many long minutes later, that Elrohir noticed that Aragorn had fallen back into unconsciousness. With a quick thanks to Iluvatar and a prayer that his brother would make the journey, Elrohir lifted Aragorn onto the horse, and then mounted behind him.

"Noro lim, mellon nin, noro lim. We are going home." He said to his horse, and then left the river behind him.

Tbc...