Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, Silmarillion, or anything of Tolkien's work for that matter. If I do, you people would never see any of the plot, the story, or more importantly, the character. I would have Maglor for myself, really. And Glorfindel too. And maybe Erestor and Legolas and Maedhros and blah blah blah….

Criticisms are greatly appreciated. Please do give me that I would learn (and fix my stories). Happy reading! :)

Note: Slightly edited, just looked at the time line via a certain website and I just realized that Gilraen was only 25 years old when she gave birth to Aragorn.

Ch 2

She had not remembered as of the last time she had cried so much, she used to believe that her tears dried up before Arathorn found her. She had not remembered when she was included by the Men, Gilraen, and her son into going towards Imraldis. And certainly, she had not remembered when she arrived in Imraldis with them.

"Homa…?" Aragorn just had to be the one who woke her from her grief. She was thankful though; the toddler had allowed her to hold him the time she had learned of his father's death.

She smiled with affection to the child, though it was still grim. "All is well, young one. What is it?" She asked. The child hold her hand as he went away from his mother, who was, riding a horse near the twins she had leaned the names Elladan and Elrohir.

He then looked at the scenery around him, one that both he and the half-elf had never seen before in their lives. Imraldis, was full of elves – the other half of Homa's race - as the elven name of the place suggested, was a scenery to behold! "Pretty…" He only spoke one word at a time, of which the half-elf thought it was adorable to an extent. He was not able to speak in a full sentence; however, he had the ability to read people well. That is what Homa realized at some time, when Arathorn gave her the duty to look after his child. Another fact she had learned though, that the toddler tended to like her – maybe it was curiosity, but he had made his way towards the heart of Homa, as a child.

She then looked the scenery around her, taking in the beautiful view of Imraldis. Her expression was not one of the bewildered, but her eyes betraying her expression now and then. It was really, more than words can describe for her, as she saw only the wonders of the North during her life. Pretty, is one word Aragorn can say, as he have not learned the word gorgeous or beautiful as of yet. But really, Aragorn's choosing of words was one of the most accurate. "I agree, young one…" She said, breathless in awe.

Some of the elves had stopped from their routine and stared at the group she was in openly and curiously. It was not usual to see a group of human coming, and yet, with no leader for those who were leading the group were in fact, the sons of Elrond. They can see a child among the group, and concluded that it was usual; Elrond tended to raise human children that were descended from his brother, Elros.

It was much later that the group of human, Homa, and the toddler had found themselves within the House of Elrond during the nightfall.

"So Aragorn is to stay here?" Homa asked the toddler's mother.

Gilraen nodded grimly. "Yes. Arathorn told me of Lord Elrond being a father to him and his forefathers. I think it is appropriate for him to raise Aragorn here." It was a few hours after Gilraen talked to Elrond in private, and Homa had only seen Elrond in a distance. Strange, seeing that the very person who raised Arathorn was neither young, nor old in appearance; she could swear that he should have looked much older at least. But then again, he was an elf, or in this case, half of his blood was of an elf, just like her.

"How about you for that matter, are you coming back with me and the others to the North?" Homa asked again. Somehow, talking with the wife of a Man she called brother felt grim in a way… It was possible that it was because the memory of the Man was still fresh, and so was the memory of the news of his death.

Gilraen shook her head. "No, I am not." She paused. "And so are you."

Homa raised an eyebrow at the news. "What?" She looked away from the view of the stars she was looking at, towards the wife of Arathorn with confused gaze.

Gilraen sighed. "Think about this, Véredhiel, you are in the land of the other half of your race." Homa winced at the elven name Gilraen used. No, she did not even want to be included within the elves. She knew not of her mother's reason as of why she was born into Arda, and as a half-elven too. She knew not as of why her real father was not within her life, but rather he was. He hated her to the extent of beating her up in the early years of her life that she wanted to finish her life off. Had it not for Arathorn… "Véredhiel, you can start your life a whole new within Imraldis." Homa shuddered at that. She was certain that her father hated her that he went away from her life even before she was born. "Aragorn is also too attached with you. I fear that if you are to go, he will not speak or anything but rather cry. Aside from me he's close to, it will be you, Véredhiel." She said. Homa grimaced. It was not that she does not want within the presence of the toddler. But it was the fact that Imraldis was full of elves, the half race of what she was.

"He will adapt to it, if I am gone." Homa said. "And please, don't call me with that name."

"No. That name is yours, Véredhiel. Homa was not yours for it was in Common Tongue. Véredhiel was the name that your father had chosen as you were born." Gilraen states, her voice grim. She had not known of the slightly older female's past, but she was certain that Arathorn loved her as a sister and wanted the best for her. Arathorn was the only one, aside from his group at that time, who knew her past. She wondered faintly what has caused the older of both females winced at the sound of her own name in Elvish language that was known as Sindarin.

"But have you known of my father? Who is he, and what of his name? What was he like?" Homa asked, no, but rather… demanded. "Mother never told me of anything about him when I ever spoke about him! And he beat me up because of the fact I have my father's blood!"

"However, he did it because he wanted your mother to himself. The fact that you carried your mother's blood made him into madness." She argued.

"So it was because I was born into Arda that he was mad? It was my fault then." She retorted.

"It was never your fault, dear. It was because of you that Elrond is no longer the only peredhil in Imraldis as of now. It was because of you that Arathorn can survive until this long, with that sharpened senses of yours. The fact you were born was not a wrong thing, but rather, a gift." Gilraen spoke calmly.

Homa snorted. "I'm taking a walk." She declared. This discussion was making her mad; she sure knew that however, she had not want to damage anything or anyone in the room, which includes Gilraen who was sitting on a chair near a table in the middle of the room and Aragorn, who was currently sleeping. All the while, they had gathered within Aragorn's room and talked quietly.

"Both you and I know you can't walk away from this for long." Those were the last words she had heard from Gilraen for the rest of the night.

She sighed heavily as she reached one of Elrond's gardens. She knew she was acting childish, but it's supposed to be expected. She was still young - 31 summers her age - to both Dúnedain and Elvish standards. And so was Gilraen, being 5 years younger than her. Arathorn once told her of that. Arathorn was also a young adult, to the Dúnedain standards that is. But then again, she was supposed to be mature in her age, as she was half-elf, who was to be said to be mature much earlier than that of elves. Elves' maturity age was supposed to be 50 summers, not 31 summers like hers now.

When she arrived in the garden, she had made her way into one of the trees and put her head against that very tree. Yes, this was what she need for now. A good moment of peace would have helped her during the times she was upset or sad. Which was, in this matter, the latter was what was happening at the time. The scenery was wonderful, as expected of that of an elven realm. She took in what was around her; the trees were whispering, the night was cool and comforting. The grass was soft, and the insects that were hiding within the garden glowed softly, as they were fireflies.

She was within the garden in bliss, moments after she entered the garden. It was no wonder; Imraldis was said to be a comforting place. She sighed. She needed to apologize about what she was arguing with Gilraen earlier sometime later. But then, she reflected, Gilraen did anger her by telling her about him, her mother, and supposed-to-be elven father. However, she knew that Gilraen only wanted to help her, being the wise younger lady she was.

Father… She never did remember about any person who was fatherly for her, giving her wise advices, and protecting her from any dangers to come, that she had no one to call father. Not even him. Arathorn was different; he only guided her as a brother, he respected her wishes. If Arathorn was to be her own father, there was no doubt that he would hunt down those who courted her, even though she refused many in the first place. When she did ask about her father to her mother, her mother would only smile.

But then again, the last words of her mother that she uttered before she was gone were possibly a name of her father. She never told her if half of her blood was of Noldor elf, or of Silvan elf, or of Sindar elf, or even of Telerin elf. Her hair color and eye color could be possibly from her mother, both hair and her eyes were dark, just like mother she reflected. But then, as she was half-elven, her face was much fairer than humans, almost as fair as a normal elf maiden. And her face carried a gentle demeanor too. Her mother did not look anything like her aside from hair color and such, she remembered.

It's been 10 years, after all. She touched her necklace, the only thing that reminds her of her mother.

And for apologizing, maybe she'll need a moment to gather her courage to tell Gilraen that she's sorry for her outburst.

Within the gardens and the depths of her mind, she did not notice that she was watched by a certain elf-lord who was similar to her, as he was of the same kin, half-elf. Though the other half was human like her, there was also a Maia blood on the mix, which made him not really similar to her aside from being half-elves. Elrond did not meant to intrude the privacy of the others, but the talk of Gilraen and the younger half-elf could be heard outside the youngling's room loud and clear. Elrond happened to be in that hall, as he was walking towards his study.

He knew not of a union between an elf within his realm with a mortal female. However, with such heritage from the elven father can be seen as clear as day. Her face was obviously fair, as she was half-elven. Her ears are pointed for men, quite round for elves. Her steps are soft to men, loud to elves. And that gentle demeanor, reminds him to a certain elf that raised both him and his brother as children. But if what he thought was true, then, it serves the fact that that very elf was still alive, wandering near the shore or such with burned hands. The young half-elf he seen was so similar to that old elf.

But then again, it could be because of her mother. Or maybe she was related to the same elf he was thinking, that she looked in some ways similar to him just as Arwen to Lúthien. Yes, that must be it. Why, he refused to believe his foster father bonded with a mortal.

Within his study, he tore his eyes from the younger half-elf and started to do what he came to his study for.

Maybe she should not have been harsh to the older female, but it was necessary. Arathorn's death hit her almost as bad as Gilraen's. And maybe worse, as Arathorn was the one who had found her that fated day. He was connected to her almost like a brother with his sister. He was the pillar of her strength, the reason of her living before he had Aragorn with Gilraen.

She looked at her sleeping son. Now it seemed that Aragorn had became the pillar of her strength, as she had watched, that she held him tight as she cried for him when she had heard of Arathorn's death. And yet, she tried to live on her own, without any pillar of her strength. She might have not notice it, but the whole time, their journey towards Imraldis, Aragorn was the one who was always close to the half-elf maiden, holding her hand gently for a child.

The older female had always been sensitive about her family. It could be said as understandable, but it could be said that she was over acting. True, the older female had not known of a person she could freely call as father. Her mother died when she was much younger than the age of 21 summers, she had assumed together with Arathorn. She had many scars in her back, Gilraen seen it when she had taken her into the hot springs she had discovered during her early age. That led her to think that the older man – as Homa refused to call him father – to beat her many times.

But that did not explain the reason as of why those scars would not disappear.

Gilraen inhaled deeply before covering her son with a blanket and went away from his room, towards the chamber that was prepared for her.