Disclaimer: I do not own J. R. R. Tolkien's really, really famous works as of: LotR, Silmarillion, and others. I only own my OCs…

Peculiarxemma: Ciao 4 u too~! This is actually an L/OC story that I planned sometime after I created my other story of Glor/OC. (I was planning to make both stories somewhat cross to each other later on.) I suppose I'm quite a new writer that the stories I created had a lot of mistakes. There is nothing a good advice cannot fix! Well, anyway… *ahem* Thank you for pointing out my mistakes, and I'm going to take your advice there.

Notice: I might be late for updating both stories of mine, as I am currently kinda busy with daily life here. I got to sing in many events, including this very day before I publish this very chapter, I was to sing many songs with my choir group. And three days from now I got to sing as a classical soloist (O Holy Night in Es), and only has a piano and violin as my accompanies for an event to my school.

Ch 1

It was in the morn already. Last night was uneventful, to her relief. She would not like to fight as she was still wary from her nightmares. She has not sleep for a few days, it can be noted by many as the dark rings under her eyes can be seen so clearly when it was morn. The sun's light was able to discover some truth, and some other things – including the dark lines under her eyes.

Some of the Dúnedain can be seen looking at her with concerned glances, for they know her as a baby until now. A woman should not being kept up late and looking out as a scout, especially if she's a virgin. They know of her consequences as well as she do, and when they had told her of it, she would not speak of it no more and avoid their questions, becoming much more distant than the one they had known as a baby.

Her well being was one of the major concerns, and yet she waved it off. She had scouted into some areas for them that often make them victorious in hunting orcs. The other major concern was the safety of the wife and son of the Chief of Dúnedain. As orcs are still walking on Middle-Earth, as do Sauron, or maybe some other devilry, the Middle-Earth would be still in constant danger. A few weeks ago, they had heard one of the village in the North, are attacked by orcs, leaving none alive. That needs to be avoided.

It was a relief for some of the Dúnedain accompanying their Chief in hunting orcs that the half-elven lady decided not to come. They had noticed that in times she wasn't able to sleep; her body will slow, even if her body only slows a little. That could be her downfall, well, their downfall if they went out hunting orcs like what they are doing now.

So then, shortly after they are ready, they went to the forest with their mighty stallion. The females and children are all watching the backs of their husbands, sons, and brothers. All except for one. The half-elven lady gazes out towards the forest, not even once acknowledging the fact that the Men are leaving to hunt orcs with the twin sons of an elven Lord, like a hawk looking out to her territory.

Dark lines under her eyes are clearly visible, and surely it won't disappear if she was to be awake most of the time, with no rest, nonetheless. "Homa, why don't you come down here and take a rest? I would like to take your place." One of the rangers that have stayed along with her, right under her watchtower yelled.

"I do not believe that I can have enough rest, my friend." She yelled back.

"But that doesn't mean that you can't go down here rather than up there! Come on here, and help some of us to repair this blasted thing!" Another ranger yelled. He was visibly angry at the wooden gate he and the others tried to fix, but ended up on messing it up more (of which, also made him injured, he accidentally hit his own finger with a hammer he brought) and all of his friends chuckling because of its hilarity. Truly, that ranger knew no patience to do some things. The lady smiled, and jumped down. The rangers around her jumped, and it was expected. No Man could jump from such a high watch tower without a broken leg, and yet she made such feat seems easy. "You crazy elf!" The very same ranger yelled, startled.

She grinned, tempted to correct him that she was not a full blooded elf, but decides against it. It would add an insult to his injury. And by I mean 'injury', it was his injured pride as he realized that he asked help to a woman, and it was a female of half of his race, no less. She then faced the ranger with a questioning look. "So what do you want me to help?"

She sighed, helping one of the rangers – the one that she dubbed as impatient ranger, tires her as she has not rest for a few nights. She was thankful though, to those rangers. They have thought that if one was tired, they can rest easily. One proof was the ranger she assisted on fixing the gate fell asleep almost instantly when they finished on a rock. And not the comfortable one in that… She had no doubt that the ranger will be sore the time he wake up sometime later.

It was no doubt that the gate needed to be fixed as there was a time when an orc openly attacks their stronghold. As they lived in the wilderness of North, the orcs can attack them at any time they want, and it was not in their favor to be killed by the hideous orcs. Well, looking at their chief, it was no wonder that they lived outside a city of Dúnedain. He had grown up in the forest of Imraldis, raised by Elrond, the elven-lord himself as a child. Of which, it lead her thinking. Did the Elf lord have a fond feeling to the heir of Isildur as children or maybe he liked children running around his house in general? That must be it.

It had been a few days after the Men and Arathorn went outside to hunt with the twin sons of Elrond, and the half-elf had yet to rest. Yes, she was tired of course, but it did not sooth her anxiousness of seeing the Man she had been fond of calling 'brother' being safely arrived in their stronghold. She had not slept for two weeks straight, no rest, nothing. Most of the time though, she had occupied herself by playing with his son by showing him some silly expression of hers, which always made him in a fit of giggles and helping his wife for household chores, one thing Gilraen will always be thankful and somewhat guilty – of which also leave her tired.

It was then, when she was watching the border in the watch tower, she had seen a group of Men and two unfamiliar people with similar faces. She concluded that they are the sons of Elrond, seeing that their ears – that can be seen clearly from her position – are pointed. But now that she had jumped from the tower and come to them, she does not see one face she had been anxious to see the most. Arathorn.

"Mae govannen." She greeted, as some of the Men noticed her. She looked from one face to another with unreadable expression on her face. Conclusion were made within her mind as she does not actually seen the face of his, but she brushed it aside as she told herself silently that he was still alive. "Where is Arathorn?" She asked cautiously.

It was tense, hard and grim were their expressions. It was then that some of the Men shook their head grimly; some even look away, including the two unfamiliar faces she had seen earlier. "He fell." One of the two new faces said. With that one, simple sentence with no more than two words make her froze, eyes wide in grim shock. No. Not the Man that has recovered her soul from stepping choosing to suicide rather than die naturally either as human or elf.

"What will be of his son and wife?" She asked, more into herself, her head casted down.

One of the two clasped his hand to her shoulder. "We are sorry, Lady. Should we have the momentum to save him, we sure will do, but alas, the orc aimed its arrow into his eye and killed him." He sincerely said, with his eyes locking into her grief-filled eyes. "We should not grief for his death, as he has told us about his son and wife. We must go to Imraldis, as it was no longer safe here for his son and wife."

She nodded in agreement, though her gaze was still filled with grief for him. She was not able to cry, though it was heartbreaking news; the Man she had looked up into in her 10 years of meeting him died of a fight with orcs. She almost believed that the Man is invincible, as he was the one who found her 10 years ago, but she knows that he will die eventually, as he was a mortal. But, it was not this soon… Her heart still refused to tell her that he died right in front of his Men and the two people she just met. "How can we tell her?" She muttered softly.

"We will tell her." The other of the two said.

"Gilraen…" She muttered eyes casted down to the dirt in the forest floor. She knows it will be hard on her, seeing that she just lost her husband and it was told by one she has never met. Her hand soothingly stroked the child sitting on her lap, who was currently sleeping. The poor child would not have his father playing in a part of his life. Only two years old and his father was… Gone…

She herself, a person who had known the Man for 10 years and was fond of calling him her brother has a large amount of grief, but how will the Man's wife cope with? It was strange, that one's life can be changed because one thing that can be called as 'time'. One hour he was there, and then he's… gone. Not that she was there during his orc hunting…

But no, she had to be strong. Her grief must not over power her. She had made an oath to him the last night she had talked to him that she will take care of his wife and son. And now, looking at Aragorn, it broke her heart at times. His sleeping face held no indication of knowing what was happening nowadays, and was blissfully ignorant. And for that, she was thankful. It would ruin a child's life if the said child was to know dreadful facts in such early age, like what was happened to her…

Without a guidance of a father, what would be of him? She had not a person she would claim as father, but Arathorn had guided her during her 21st summer, the time he had found her. He had her respect as a brother. If he was to be fostered, let it be Elrond was a kind person, a fatherly one, unlike…

No, she must not think like this. Forget the past of hers and she must move forward into the bright future. Arathorn always told her about his foster father, who was, the very same Elrond; a kind elven-lord who welcomed everyone he had not thought of threat, much unlike King Thranduil that she had heard. She did not notice of a fact that her hand curled up as small, yet firm fist. She has stopped stroking Aragorn's hair, which made him wake up and looked up at her with a pair of grey eyes – which he had inherited from his father. "Homa…?" He asked with such innocence tone as a child.

With that, she was brought back into reality and stroked his hair again. "Hush child, hush…" She said, with a soothing tone. The child then slept again, as was like as if he did not awake again from his sleep in the first place. But then, if only the child was older and much more aware of his surroundings, he would have seen the older person's eyes were glistened. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes, and yet she did not make any movements to get rid of it, as tears were starting to fall. One Man told her that it is alright to cry, that it shows your grief, and yet, in the same time, one can be relieved from it.

She had not known when she had stayed under the tree, right outside the former domain of Arathorn, along with his 2 years old son sleeping on her lap. She had not known of how long her crystal-like tears streaming down her face that she knew still existed after what happened to her during her past. She had not known when she slipped into darkness within her grief.

One thing that she had not noticed was, because of the Man who died, she was blessed by the Valar to be able to sleep, even though it was not a good way.