Wow, I can't believe I actually got another chapter done so quickly. Spring break is awesome. Anyway, thanks to those who read the last chapter. I had to make a small correction to the ending; I forgot to delete something when I posted it, so if this seems confusing at first, just read the last little bit of the previous chapter. The next chapter should be up this weekend; it's already written and just has to be typed up and proofread. So, usual disclaimers apply; I don't own LOTR, but I do own the plot of this story and Glynn. While I did proofread this chapter, it is inevitable that I missed something, so please forgive my mistakes. Please read, relax, and enjoy. Oh and a review would be wonderful as well, if you wish.

Euphoria and Explanations

Her words repeated in his head. This you know. For a moment, he doubted himself. Maybe this was a false dream. Something his mind had conjured up. But such dreams had never lied to him before. They'd led him on the correct path; shown him the error of his ways. And then he came to understand. In that second, the grim truth crushed him, crashing in unwelcomed on fond childhood memories and his latest journey home to see Elrond. At last, he knew the truth. He turned to ask another question, but the lady was gone. Quickly he looked towards the sons of Elrond, only to find them gone as well. No one was left. No sooner had he realized this, than the earth began to fade, growing darker in frighteningly quick increments. Thinking his vision to be at fault, he rubbed his eyes, but they were fine. Within seconds, all had faded. The world faded from his other senses too. Last to be sensed was the sweet sound of a chirping bird.

It seemed as quickly as the void came it was beginning to fade. But the senses were different. He knew he was lying on something hard, yet slightly soft. A blanket laid over him and he wanted it off, for he felt hot and sticky. On either side of him, he felt temperature extremes: hot and cold. He was already hot, so he moved towards the cold, only to find his body lethargic and weak. The smell of incense hit him, smelling strangely sweet and spicy. Someone was speaking, no, chanting nearby. It was a deep voice, definitely a man and it sounded familiar. He paused, panic and apprehension welling up inside of him at who he feared the owner of the voice was.

Although he was sure his movements and rise to semi-consciousness were enough to draw attention, the man continued his chanting. He tried to discern the words, but the sounds jumbled in his still foggy mind. Though he knew there were individual words, he could detect no such breaks. Obviously, he thought, he did not know the language. While he desired to know the chanter, he found himself quite content to lie listening. Something about the chant soothed him. He allowed the words to flow over him, caressing and washing his achy, sticky, lethargic body. They soaked his skin, penetrating the flesh, working their way into his blood. As the infused blood coursed through his body, he found his strength returning. How long this continued for, he did not know, nor did he care. He was too enraptured by the feel of strength entering his body. Only when the chanting ended, did his euphoria break.

"Strider," the chanter called to him, beckoning him to open his eyes. But Aragorn didn't want to. He wanted the chanting to continue. Now that it was over, he felt empty.

"It will return," the chanter replied to his thoughts. "Trust me." Aragorn found himself unable to place the owner of the voice, though he felt that he knew him. At last, Aragorn forced himself to open his eyes. He expected his vision to be blurry, but it was oddly clear. Above him was wood and to the side, stone.

"All has been healed," the chanter said. Aragorn turned quickly to face the man. Surprise came over him as he realized who the man was.

"Glynn?" he asked, puzzled. The healer didn't look much different than he had a month ago. He was dressed quite simply though, much more than the last time they had met. He wore a white tunic, which bore dirt and stains from much use. His brown pants too bore a look of use. Strider guessed that he had worn those clothes for days. He wondered briefly if Glynn had spent all of that time beside him. But where was here? And how did he get here? The last thing he remembered before the battle in the plains was lying on a cold, wet ground. He was feeling sick and feverish. He remembered hoping that he would get better, but having no expectations of doing so.

"Aye." Glynn nodded.

"How… where," Aragorn stammered as he tried to formulate his thoughts into questions.

"Later," Glynn answered. "First you need to eat."

"No," Aragorn said forcefully. The energy he'd felt coursing through his veins while he was semi-conscious was surging again, giving him the energy to sit up, but Glynn forced him back down.

"It's been several days since you've eaten. Despite what you're feeling now, your body will soon require food." Aragorn paused. Part of him could understand the logic of what Glynn said, but part of him didn't care. He'd been unconscious for too long and wanted to know what had happened. He didn't care about the requirements of his body. There would be time for that later. As he was thinking this, it seemed that Glynn could read his thoughts and the healer's face became even more determined.

"Fine," Aragorn spat, realizing that he would get nowhere with Glynn. "Explain as I eat," he demanded.

Glynn raised his hand, motioning to someone who stood at a door to the far left of the bed. A dirty, young woman entered, carrying a tray of food and a mug of liquid. She set the tray on the table without a word. Aragorn noticed her clothes were tattered and hung off her thing frame. Her hair had been choppily cut and barely reached past her ears. As she turned the corner, her brown hair caught a breeze of air. In that brief second, though he could not be sure, Aragorn thought he noticed a sharp point to her ear. Once she left, Glynn helped him to sit, resting his back on a pillow that feebly blocked the cold of the stonewall from seeping through. Once he was settled, Glynn retrieved the tray and set it down on Aragorn's lap. It was not the food he was accustomed to during his travels. There was a thick soup, a chunk of meat almost the size of his fist and an even larger piece of dense bread. It was a hearty meal and he wasted no time eating. As he tore off a piece of bread, dipping it into the soup, he reminded Glynn of the promise he'd made.

"Yes, of course." Glynn nodded. "About a week ago, I found you, feverish and delirious in the woods. The cause of your illness I am still questioning, though I have my suspicions. I carried you upon my horse here."

"Where is here?" Aragorn asked, before eating another soup soaked piece of bread. He was surprised to find how hungry he really was. How long had it been since he'd last eaten?

"My current residence. After I left the rangers that day, I wandered for a while."

"That day always has puzzled me. Why did you leave?"

"The rangers weren't…" Glynn hesitated, "what I thought they'd be. I'm a peaceful man Strider. They engage in far too much fighting, almost seeking it out at times. I couldn't handle it anymore. I was in a little village, enjoying a mug of ale at the local tavern, when he sat down next to me. He was so quiet and soft-spoken that it startled me, but I warmed up to him quickly. We talked for hours and never did I fell more at peace. When he found I was skilled in medicine, he asked if I would join him at his castle. He required some help with potions. Here I've been helping him mix herbs to create better healing potions. When you're well enough, I'd like to show them to you."

"He is the master of this castle?" Aragorn asked.

"Aye and he graciously allowed me to bring you here."

"What of my head aching?"

"You'd stopped taking the potion."

"I ran out. I was looking for you. The headaches had returned with an intensity greater than before. I started feeling ill and feverish."

"I suspected that might be the reason for your sickness, but I could not be sure. Good thing that I found you. You'd have never found me in your condition. Do not worry about the ache, it is again held back by a potion. Though I am working on one that I hope will permanently heal the ache."

"My father said he couldn't do that. He said it was impossible; that he'd tried everything he knew."

"Your father doesn't have the proper herbs or knowledge then," Glynn answered simply.

"To be free of aches and potions," Aragorn sighed, leaning away from the now empty tray. He'd been more hungry than he realized and had eaten very quickly. "That would be nice."

"I still have work to do, but I believe I am close to something that will restore your balance."

"And what now?" Aragorn asked.

"Now you must rest," Glynn paused, but continued quickly as he noticed Aragorn beginning to protest. "Although you are doing remarkably better than I anticipated, you are still recovering. Perhaps in a day or two, you will be rested enough for a short journey around the castle. The views really are fantastic. So, for now, rest. There is still much that needs to be done and you'll need your strength for it."