Chapter 4

"Whoa!"

Strider reigned Ronan around at the startled exclamation and following thud, something catching in his chest as he sighted the little one on the ground near Mithril's still hooves, the horse having halted when his rider fell.

He dismounted quickly, moving to kneel next to her, all but forgetting her healing ability.

She stirred, opening her eyes with a slight grimace.

"Lie still, little one," he ordered, already back in the mindset of a healer.

"I'm fine," she brushed off his concern, sitting despite his initial protest. "Except for the blow to my pride—talk about embarrassing."

"What happened?"

Sa't blushed a bit, grimacing. "Mithril tripped and I wasn't paying attention."

"So you simply fell?" Strider sat back on his heels, mildly surprised.

"Pretty much, yeah," Sa't admitted sheepishly.

"You are fortunate to be unharmed," he informed her, "I have had good Men killed from lesser falls."

There was a moment in which Sa't had a brief flashback to a ride with a human friend that had ended with that friend's death.

"As have I," she stated finally, standing and brushing herself off, Strider following suit, "… but a fall could not kill me. Or," she amended, "not permanently."

Aragorn hesitated briefly, shaking his head, "I… cannot bring myself to believe that," he murmured, before catching himself. "I do not doubt your truthfulness," he hurried to assure, "but such a thing…"

"Is so far beyond your realm of experience that you just can't quite believe it," Sa't finished for him. "I understand. Although, knowing my luck, you'll get to witness it firsthand."

He winced, "Please do not say such things."

Sa't blinked, then shook her head, "Forgive me. My words were thoughtless…" she paused, tilting her head, "Do you hear something?"

Aragorn went into Ranger-mode immediately, listening hard. "Yes," he agreed quietly, "Horses."

"Perhaps we should meet their riders on equal standing?"

He nodded, moving over to mount Ronan, Sa't climbing into Mithril's saddle more slowly, frowning pensively.

"Is something wrong?"

Sa't glanced over to Aragorn and offered a small smile, "Just… memories, Strider. Thoughts of times past."

He nodded, understanding. Growing up with the Elves, he had noticed some of them get lost in memory when something sparked a thought—and she had only recently lost someone very dear to her. It was only to be expected that she would grow quiet at times. He reined Ronan around carefully, keeping an eye out to make sure Sa't was following.

Mithril fell into his customary position to the left and slightly behind Ronan, Sa't's eyes distant and sad, and the two headed towards the other horses at a gentle walk.

"They are Elvish horses," Aragorn realized aloud, surprised.

Sa't blinked at the sudden declaration, shaking her head briefly before focusing on Strider. "Really?"

He nodded once, "Two," he glanced at her sideways, frowning, "It is rare for Elves to venture into the Wilds with so few. I only know two who do so often…"

Sa't titled her head inquisitively at the odd mix of emotion in his eyes. "Oh?" she prompted.

"My foster-brothers, Elladan and Elrohir," he stated, shaking his head with a mix of fondness and sadness, "They hunt Orcs nearly all the time since their mother sailed for the Undying Lands."

"Hate is a powerful emotion," Sa't said softly before falling silent as the two rode into view—mirror images of ethereal beauty.

"Estel!" one of them called, sounding surprised before surprise turned to delight. "Estel! It is you!"

Sa't hid a smile as Strider—apparently also called 'Estel'—dismounted even as the obvious twins did as well, meeting them in a strong embrace, hanging back herself to allow them to have their reunion.

"And who is this you have with you?" one of them asked as he pulled back. "A child?"

"It's not my fault I'm short," Sa't grumped, sliding off Mithril's back, "Sa't Mertseger, at your service."

Aragorn turned to her, eyes sparkling with mirth at her comment and joy at seeing his brothers again, "Sa't, these are my foster brothers, Elladan and Elrohir."

"A pleasure," they murmured in nearly perfect unison.

Sa't examined them and hid a smirk. The differences in physical appearance were minute, but there. Four thousand years and some time working as a police detective gave her an eye for detail.

"I'm sure," she replied, allowing a hint of dryness to creep into her voice. "Twins. Not just twins, but identical twins. I'm sensing trouble of the pranking kind."

"Estel!" One of them turned to Aragorn with a resentful look on his face, "Have you been telling tales of us to your young friend?"

He managed to keep a straight face—impressive, as Sa't knew he had to have found the 'young friend' comment amusing. "I have not."

"He hardly needed to," Sa't elaborated, "I've known too many sets of identical twins in my time."

"Really?" Aragorn turned to glance at her, curious. He knew her age and of Karen and the Game, but little else of her life. "How many?"

"Ah… thirty or so sets. Only one of those sets didn't turn to practical jokes at one point or another. Most of those were from a distance, mind—children of children of friends, usually," her voice turned wistful, "I grew to care for them, yet always… always they died."

"Ah, little one," he realized the memories he had stirred were bittersweet, "I—"

"Don't say you're sorry."

He blinked, his twin foster brothers careful to stay out of the conversation, though they had many questions.

"It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all," she quoted. "Though their deaths caused me grief… I am the better for having had the chance to watch over them. Better for knowing those I did."

He nodded slowly, beginning to understand. "Yet I wish you had not faced the life you have had."

That startled a laugh out of her, "Ai, I admit that sometimes I have wished the same thing. My people… as a whole, are neither gentle nor kind. But one cannot know joy without having known pain… and I have few regrets. I regret… that those friends of mine in my world will think me dead. I regret having caused them that pain, but… they are safer with me here."

"From what you have told me of your world and your people," Aragorn stated dryly, "So are you."

Sa't dipped her head, acknowledging the point, before turning her attention to the clearly antsy and confused twins. "I believe your brothers have questions," she observed clinically.

"Who are you?"

Sa't straightened before taking a step forward and giving a formal bow from her homeland. "Sa't Mertseger, Daughter of She Who Loves Silence, Goddess of the Mountain."

"Where are you from?" The other asked, though her answer had raised even more questions than it answered.

"Earth—which is, to all appearances, an alternate dimension."

Puzzlement flashed through grey eyes.

"Can we save the physics lesson for later?" Sa't asked, suddenly sounding weary, "We had best get moving. I will answer your questions as we ride. But first," something strangely humorous flashed in her eyes. "Which of you is which?"

xxxx

Hi! I live!

Beta? Anyone? I'd be more reliable about getting chapters up with someone pestering me.