Review Responses: Didn't mean to make Thranduil a hypocrite, but Feywen is a prisoner of war and so is not likely to be rescued in that short of time. And for poor Glorfindel, every year is a lifetime.

Again, elvish is in bold italics

Disclaimer: I only own the plot and Feywen and any OC's the may pop up. ;)

Enjoy!

"Why have you called me here, King of Gondor?" He asked. His voice was solemn. He and the elves still grieved over the loss of Feywen. She was living with Morgoth in Mordor. The act had given them some time, but it was quickly running out. Morgoth wanted something from her. He had been trying to get it for the past five centuries. So far, she had resisted. But there was no telling how much longer she could defy him.

"I am dying," the king said. Gandalf did not know his name, nor did he wish to. "The poisoned blade I took in place of an elf now drains my strength from me quicker than the day it was inflicted. I am happy that I lived long enough to see the birth of my son." A maid stepped into the room, a bundle in her arms. She handed it to the king and walked out. "My wife died in the birth and I am dying. We are protected under Feywen's shield, but that is only protection from Morgoth. I know some of my people want to march openly against him. I know that we cannot without the strength of the elves and dwarves with us. But since Feywen walked willingly into Morgoth's hands, Legolas and his father have withdrawn their support. The dwarves refuse our messengers. I have sent messages to the lords of Rivendell and Lórien, but they have not answered."

"And they will not answer. Lord Celeborn and Lord Glorfindel are both grieving. Celeborn knew Lady Feywen since she was a child. Lord Glorfindel was her husband before she was forced to send him away. But these troubles are not what you called me for."

"Wise as ever." The king muttered. "You are right. I did not call you to plague you with political troubles. My son is young, newly born. The steward will rule until he is old enough to retrieve my crown. But the years in between, the political powers will seek to control him. I ask you, Mithrandir. Take him back to Rivendell with you. Raise him to be the hope of Gondor and Arnor. Raise him to be like the first king of the Fourth Age. Let him learn the ways of the Dúnedain and the elves. When he is ready, he will return to Gondor and lead Men in battle against Morgoth." The king held the baby out to Gandalf who took him.

"For his sire's sake, I will take the boy northward."

"Then take this as well. This is,

"Andúril." Gandalf interrupted. "Forged from the shards of Narsil, blade of Elendil." He took the blade from the ailing king. "Your son will be raised well. What shall he be called?"

"Aragorn. He shall be called Aragorn for he is the hope of my people and of Feywen." With those words, the king died. Gandalf bowed his head and then slipped out of the hall as the maid returned. Once outside the Seventh Circle, his horse was returned to him. Glorfindel had let him borrow him for his sire was Shadowfax, the Lord of all Horses. Gandalf mounted the stallion gently enough to not rouse the sleeping babe, but not to gentle that he raised suspicion. If any of Gondor knew that he was taking their prince away, they would be out for blood and he would not be able to stem the tide. The mourning bells tolled as he reached the gates of Minas Tirith, spreading news of their beloved king's death. The people looked at him in fear. They knew the prince had just been born and the political powers of Gondor would seek to control him. He nodded to the guards and then rode back the way he had traveled. Kemen had traveled with him so he could pass through the Gap of Rohan.

"It is good that you are with me, Kemen and Vilya. This child needs all the protection we can muster. He is the hope of Feywen and all of Middle Earth."

"She has not called to us." Vilya whispered. Gandalf and Kemen could hear the sadness in her voice. "Not even Naur can rest in that dark fire. Alu cannot get into the water. Kemen cannot sneak in through the earth. And I cannot reach her through the breeze. We were able to be with her in Mordor before. What has changed?"

"She has blocked us." Kemen rumbled gently, aware of the sleeping child in Gandalf's arms. "She knows that if we are there, Morgoth will discover a way to break the shields she has placed. At least, she fears that outcome. I can feel her, every day, using the elements to train. She is growing stronger without us there."

"Perhaps," Gandalf cut in, "she has discovered that she needs the elements to destroy Morgoth in some way." Gandalf didn't say it, but he knew where Morgoth's power resided. He knew that the lost Silmarilli were with Morgoth and that they could only be destroyed in the manner in which they were created, with the elements. The ancient spirits of the elements had told him this some time ago, hoping he could find a way to get the information to her. But by then, she had already been a hundred and fifty years with Morgoth in Mordor. He had been trying to think of a way to get the message to her. If she didn't know already. Kemen and Vilya said nothing more and the four of them rode in silence.

He sat in the dark house and listened to the gurgling of the river. It was not as close to their house as the one in Valinor had been. But it reminded him of that happy time. Those centuries that he and Feywen had lived in peace. Then the three bearers of the Elven Rings had to tell them of the curse. That night, the night they buried Bilbo and Frodo, their lives had changed. Even though they had not left until centuries after that night, Feywen had been changed. She had felt the new threat was her fault. He had never been able to get her to rid herself of the feeling of guilt she carried for those hundred years before they finally returned to Middle Earth. After that, everything had begun to fall apart.

They had spent too many months at sea and Feywen's illness had struck before she could do much except gain the aid of the Dúnedain. He wished he had never fought with her about going on with her quest. He was proud that she had found a way around Sauron's magic. But he had been concerned about her welfare as she was usually bedridden by her illness. He often wondered, when they had been in Valinor after Frodo's death, if the same fate would have claimed her as well. In his last days, Frodo had been bedridden weeks after his illness until he and Bilbo had finally passed. Feywen was stronger, but he saw that she was weakening. When they heard of this new evil that had placed the curse on her, she seemed to gain some strength, as if knowing her task was not yet done.

"So many things I should have done and now wish I could have done differently." He mumbled bitterly.

"It only would have prolonged the inevitable." A soft voice spoke from the door. He looked up and had to avert his eyes as Galadriel walked in.

"It is my fault, Lady Galadriel. If I had not fought with her about her illness when we were near the Shire, she never would have gone on without me. She never would have been out there alone without someone to protect her."

"Protect her from what? Sooner or later, she would have had to pay the price sought from Celebrant and his wife. To be free, Morgoth needs to marry a full-blood Elf. Feywen's grandmother had been given some command over the elements from Celebrant himself, to protect her. They didn't understand what they needed to do in order to destroy him. Feywen does. She never truly gave you up, Glorfindel. You are in her heart, always."

"Glorfindel!" He heard Carolani call.

"I am here, Carolani." The elf woman entered and smiled.

"I am glad to find you still alive. I was worried you had faded."

"I will never fade as long as Feywen is in the clutches of him." He looked at her and noticed that she had not bowed to Galadriel. When he looked to see if the Lady was offended, he was surprised to see she was not there. "There is something else?"

"Gandalf returns and he wishes you be meet with him."

"Tell him where I am." Carolani nodded and left. Glorfindel looked at the fireplace. He had had another vision. That was the second one he had had since he had married Feywen. The first was of her telling him that she was the only one who could destroy Morgoth. Now Galadriel had appeared to him and told him that Feywen had never let him go. "If that were true, she would never have given back the locket while telling me she could have nothing from me."

"Quit moping, Glorfindel!" The fireplace blazed to life. Over the past centuries, the elements had become stronger and Naur was now able to wake herself when she felt like it. Glorfindel guessed it was because Feywen was becoming stronger, even though she was living in Morgoth's castle. "You know she did that so she didn't lose that precious item. Think of everything she placed in your hands. Nardin, Nardil, Nardil's children, the cloak Galadriel had given her, and the dagger Aragorn had given her at your wedding. All of those things have a special meaning to her and she was loath to let them be taken from her by Morgoth. She told you she wanted them back afterwards. Then she placed the locket around your neck and told you she loved you. Would she have done that if she had truly given you up? My sisters and I would have followed her, but she bade us to protect you. And so we have not left your side for the past five hundred years."

"Had you been an elf, I would have struck you down for that speech, Naur."

"You could have tried. But did it work? Or do I have to have Kemen knock sense into you the hard way?" Glorfindel was about to answer when Gandalf walked in with a small bundle in his arms.

"What do you want?" He asked harshly. Naur had angered him, once again, and he was not in a good mood.

"I thought you might want to see your nephew." Gandalf answered and handed the baby to Glorfindel who took him without a word. The elf moved the blankets and looked at the gray eyes that looked up at him.

"He looks like Aragorn when he was a baby. But why is the prince of Gondor and Arnor in Rivendell."

"His father took the wound of a poisoned blade meant for an elf. The king lived only long enough to see his son born and beg me to take him from the powers that would seek to use him. His father named him Aragorn for he is the hope of his people and of his aunt." Glorfindel looked sharply at the white wizard.

"How can he possibly be?"

"The king did not elaborate. He passed at that moment. Perhaps he saw something at that moment. Perhaps he saw the Fellowship coming together again in the final hour." Glorfindel handed the baby back to Gandalf.

"Where?"

"With the Dúnedain mostly. But, I also brought him to you for another reason." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "He needs to know about his family, his namesake and the woman he fights for. You are the only one who can tell him. Will you?"

"For Feywen's sake." Glorfindel replied and turned to look at the weapons above the mantle. He turned his head to Gandalf after a moment. "People will be looking for him and they will try to come here. The people of Gondor knew the king wanted to name his son after the first king of the Fourth Age. Call him Estel, for now. If he is the hope of his kingdom, he must be shielded at all costs." Gandalf nodded.

Thoughts? hehehe. Thanks for reading and please review!