Wow...I have to admit, I am very ashamed of myself for not updating. Welp, I have another chapter up now! I'm not sure if this'll be the last chapter or not, but I guess we'll see!

-Nescit Cedere-

Aragorn slowly came to, blearily blinking when he realized he was lying on something soft and warm. Confused, Aragorn carefully sat up, registering the dull ache in his side. Looking about himself, Aragorn found himself to be in a tent. A large tent filled with several cots. It reminded Aragorn of the Medical Tents armies normally set up during a time of war, but, they weren't at war. At least, he hoped they were not. Gondor had barely recovered from the War of the Ring and had just fought another large battle against Orcs. The king sat still for a moment, trying to recall where he was. He remembered hunting with his elder children and Legolas. They had split up and had been hunting for nearly a day when a horn had blown.

Aragorn snapped his head up, eyes growing wide, his memories coming together. Aranyth had been in danger. Everyone had rushed over to her section, he being the first to arrive, only to find that Aranyth was no longer there. They had searched for two days, but she was nowhere to be found. Then Aragorn had found the journal, after retracing his daughter's steps, read the entry, and touched a blank page. What happened next was a little difficult for Aragorn to grasp. He remembered falling and submerging beneath water. He was rescued...by Elves and taken to their encampment. When they had arrived, Aragorn specifically remembered the names that had been mentioned.

'Gil-Galad,' was one of them. The High-King of old that Elrond had served under during the First Alliance. Seeing as Gil-Galad had no child of his own, he had elected Elrond to be his heir. It had bewildered Aragorn greatly, especially when this 'Gil-Galad' hailed the other Elf as 'Oropher.' Oropher, Aragorn knew, was Thranduil's father that had fallen during the Battle at the Black Gates. It was for that reason Thranduil was crowned King of the Greenwood at a significantly young age. Not only that, but Aragorn mostly remembered one name above them all.

Elrond.

So many feelings coursed through Aragorn's being as he murmured the name aloud. His heart still ached from the constant reminder that Elrond had sailed away to Valinor. Aragorn had believed he would never see Elrond again, the Elf he had considered his Father ever since he was a child. Elrond had taken himself and his sister under his wing when their parents had been killed, and ever since they had become a part of the family, Aragorn always looked up to the Elf Lord. Elrond had always been there for him. He was there when he needed comfort, when he was injured, when he was suffering... He was just...there.

Aragorn had believed it difficult for him to watch Elrond sail away but now, seeing him again...Aragorn had no idea what to think, believe, or feel. He felt an array of emotions taking their toll on his weakened body, but Aragorn could not bring himself to relax. The most prominent memory in his mind was that of Elrond asking him a few questions while taking care of his wounds mere hours before.

Leaping from the cot, Aragorn stood and began to pace, his hands clasped behind his back in a kingly manner. This was impossible. Elrond was not here, Gil-Galad and Oropher were dead, and Aranyth was missing. But then...Where was he?

So lost in his thought was he, that he did not acknowledge the two Elves that had entered the tent. Both had been conversing quietly when they heard someone muttering darkly in Elvish. Raising their heads, they found the Man King Oropher and his son had rescued briskly pacing the length of the tent, head bowed and brow furrowed.

"I do not understand." He murmured aloud, pausing for a moment, dropping his head back as he stared at the top of the tent. "Perhaps the twins have done something to me...Or Legolas. Yes...That has to be what it is." As if trying the man were trying to assure himself that he was not crazy, he walked over to the other end of the tent, lifted the flap and peered through. The flap slipped from his fingers as the man took a step back in surprise, his grey-blue orbs sparkling with confusion. "Impossible..." He breathed, slowly making his way back to the cot. Seating himself on the edge of the cot, the Man clasped his hands together in his lap and stared. His gaze never wavered from the tent's exit. After a moment, he broke his gaze from the exit and leaned over, his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands in confusion. "Where am I...?"

One of the Elves took this as his cue to speak, "You are on the border of the plains of Dagorlad, in King Gil-Galad's encampment."

The Man started, whipping he head around to face the two Elves. Immediately, he stood, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his head. This took the Elves aback, seeing as the Man had greeted them in the same manner Elves greeted one another. For a Mortal to do the same informed the Elves that he was not just a Man, but an Elf-Friend.

"My Lords." The man lowly acknowledged them, straightening himself. The Elves dipped their heads in return, casting one another interested looks. The mystery of this Man was growing, and it piqued both of their interests.

"I see you have awoken." The youngest of the two Elves remarked, tilting his head to the side. "You should be resting. Too much movement will aggravate your wounds." He added as a gentle reprimand. The Man's lips quirked upwards at this, but the smile was short-lived, replaced by a troubled frown. Once again, the younger Elf noted, there was a flash of deep pain dancing within those grey eyes anytime the Man looked to him. Perhaps a friend of his, possibly a Noldor -seeing as the Man was clearly an friend of the Elves- had passed and he reminded the Man of the Elf? It would make sense, the Elf mused to himself.

"Indeed." The Man uttered in agreement. "But I am afraid I am restless at the moment."

"And lost, I would believe." The Elder Elf commented, earning another nod. "Perhaps we could be of assistance? Tell me, what is your name?"

"A-" The Man quickly cut himself off, hoping the Elves didn't catch this and corrected himself. "Estel."

The Elves had indeed caught the slip but pretended not to notice, wondering why he would hide his true name. He did not strike them as dangerous, no. He had a gentle aura surrounding him. Not only that, but he had proven himself to be friendly to the Elves. There was, however, an air of mystery about him that intrigued the Elder Elf.

"An Elven name? Curious." He remarked, his brown eyes studying Aragorn. "I suppose it is only fair that I give you my name, seeing as you already have been acquainted with Elrond. I am Gil-galad of the Noldor." He introduced himself. It took a moment for Aragorn to process this, and when he did, all he could do was blink, then blink again.

"Lord Gil-galad?" He repeated, his grey orbs widening a fraction. Immediately, Aragorn bowed. "Goheno-nin, Hir-nin. I did not realize I stood in the presence of the High-King himself." He apologized. Gil-galad chuckled in amusement, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

"Nay, young one, do not apologize. There is no need for formalities. I care naught for them."

"As you wish." Aragorn responded, straightening. He took this moment to study the High-King. He was tall, nearly a foot taller than himself, with long brown hair that fell over his shoulders, matched with warm brown eyes that were sharp and watchful. He wore light, golden, armor with a crimson cape attached at the shoulder blades, a blade resting in its sheath at his side. He held himself in a relaxed manner, but his countenance was that of a king.

Gil-galad studied Aragorn in return. There was something about this man...something off, but he could not place his finger on what it could possibly be. What he did notice, was the resemblance this 'Estel' shared with Elrond. It was unnerving. Their eyes were the identical shade of grey, the same facial structure -although Elrond's features were a little smoother than Estel's- and their hair color was near the equivalent of one another's. The only difference was Estel's hair was a deeper shade of chocolate brown that just barely passed his shoulders. He also had the beginnings of a beard, causing for the Man to look older than he truly was.

"You speak Sindarin fluently." Gil-galad observed, eyeing Aragorn. Both Elrond and Aragorn could hear the silent question the High-King was asking him. Aragorn nodded.

"I was raised by my Uncle in an Elven community." He offered as an explanation. "I was but a toddler then, and my Uncle believed it would be best if I learned Sindarin since I would be staying in his home until I came of age."

Elrond turned to pin Aragorn with a curious gaze. "Your Uncle was an Elf?" He inquired, and Aragorn mentally berated himself for the slip.

"In a manner of speaking." Aragorn smoothly replied, keeping his expression neutral. He still could not accept the fact that he was speaking with Elrond. His heart ached as he returned the Elf Lord's gaze, wishing that Elrond knew who truly. Part of him wanted Elrond to know, but another part of him argued that it was best Elrond remained in the dark. Besides, what good would it do should Elrond discover who he was? If this was not a dream, then Aragorn was trapped in the past during the First Alliance. It would be another 3,000 or so years before he would become a part of Elrond's family. "My family are descendants of his brother, who passed many centuries ago."

The Elves accepted this, much to Aragorn's relief. "Your Uncle...Would he happen to be of Noldo descent?" Elrond decided to ask, wanting to know why Aragorn seemed pained every time he would glance his direction. Aragorn hesitantly nodded.

"He was."

"Was?"

"I left his household at the age of twenty, many years ago." Aragorn said, ignoring the pained feeling that echoed through his being. "We did not...part on good terms." Aragorn's expression changed into one of reminiscing and guilt as he thought back on a few memories. "We reunited nearly ten years later, but everything had changed. I know not what he considered me then, but I will always consider him to be my Father."

"Did he pass?" Gil-galad carefully ventured, noting the pained undertone that laced every word Aragorn spoke. Aragorn shook his head.

"Nay. He left nearly fifteen years ago."

Here, the Elves were confused. "I must admit, young Estel, that you have lost me." Gil-galad admitted with a faint smile. "You appear young, but the way you speak tells me that is not so."

Aragorn smirked. He knew his appearance fooled many who saw him. His children and many of his friends always pointed out the fact that he looked no older than thirty, but had children who were near seventeen years of age.

"I am one of the Dunedain." There was a flicker of recognition in Elrond's eyes at the name. "I could be older, or younger, than what you believe."

"Might I venture a guess?" Gil-galad questioned, wanting to discover just how old this man could be.

"Of course." Aragorn grinned, waiting for the High-King's estimate of his age.

"Forty?"

"Nay." Aragorn shook his head.

"Sixty?"

"No."

Gil-galad and Elrond shared a surprised glance before Gil-galad returned to his guessing game, determined to find exactly what age Estel was. "Surely you can not be eighty?"

A laugh bubbled from Aragorn's lips as he was reminded of the time Eowyn had discovered his age. She had asked the very same question as the High-King. How shocked she had been to hear the answer. "I am afraid I am older than eighty."

Elrond and Gil-galad stared for a moment. This man was older than eighty?

"Ninety?" Elrond attempted, earning a negative response. "A hundred?"

"A hundred and six years of age." Aragorn affirmed, taking the Elves aback, much to his amusement. It took the Elves a moment to recover from this newly discovered information.

"I would never have suspected it." Gil-galad told him. "You look no older than thirty."

"So I am often told." Aragorn said with a smile and once again, Gil-galad was struck by how much Aragorn resembled Elrond. Their smiles, the twinkle in their eyes, were exactly alike. It was then Gil-galad also noticed how at ease both he and Elrond seemed to be in this man's presence. Most of the time, when they were around any other Men, such as Elendil's, the Elves were uncomfortable, but this Dunedain was different from the Men. Perhaps it was because he had been raised by an Elven family? Perhaps because he was kin? Gil-galad knew not. What he did know was that this Man did not cross their paths by accident. No, something whispered to Gil-galad that the Man was meant to be there.

"I have a proposition to make." Gil-galad quietly announced, earning both Elrond and Aragorn's attention. "First, I must ask, have you a family?"

"I do." Aragorn answered, wondering where the High-King was headed. "But I cannot return to them. They are far away..." His voice trailed off to a whisper, Aragorn subconsciously glancing in the direction of Gondor before returning his attention to the High King.

"I see." Gil-galad pondered for a moment, Elrond and Aragorn politely remaining silent. The High-King tapped his chin, deep in thought, then lowered his arms, as though he had come to some sort of decision. "If you wish, Estel, you may reside with Elendil's men in their encampment until you are able to return home. It would not be wise for you to leave in the condition you are in," the King stated, indicating to the many bandages wrapped around Aragorn's many injuries, but continued before Aragorn could speak. "Or, you may remain in my encampment until you are healed."

Aragorn said nothing as he thought over the High-King's offer. He had not been expecting it. He had not been expecting any of this. It hadn't taken him long to accept the fact that he was no longer in his time, but in the year 3434 of the Second Age. If he were to wager a guess as to what time exactly he had fallen in to, he would have to say a few days, or possibly weeks, before the battle of Dagorlad took place. This opportunity to meet Elendil and live within his encampment for a few days would have been exciting if not for the fact that Aragorn was not proud of his bloodline.

Isildur.

Aragorn had yet to convince himself that he was nothing like his ancestor. He still struggled with the fact that his ancestor's decision to keep the Ring had caused so much pain and suffering that could have been avoided had he listened to Elrond! Many of his fellow friends and kin had passed because of the Ring. So much bloodshed...

Uncomfortable with being anywhere near Isildur, Aragorn thought over the second part of Gil-galad's proposition. If he wanted, he could choose to remain in the Elven encampment, surrounded by Elves. Had he been any younger than he was, or if he wasn't already used to living among Elves and being the only mortal, Aragorn would have immediately chosen to reside with the Men. He had no wish, however, to live among the Men of the First Alliance. Despite knowing that the Men of the First Alliance were honorable enough, Aragorn knew, from Elrond and a few others, that the Men weren't quite as noble.

That decision was rather easy to make, Aragorn thought to himself. He looked to Gil-galad, who was awaiting his response.

"If I may, I would rather remain here." He said. Gil-galad quirked an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

"I would not have offered if I had not meant it." The High-King said, clasping his hands together. "I welcome you to my encampment, then, young Estel. If there is anything you have need of or that I can do, do not hesitate to ask."

"Actually, milord," Aragorn spoke up, then paused, waiting for Gil-galad to give him permission to continue. Gil-galad, seeing this, gestured for Aragorn to go on. Estel, Elrond and Gil-galad found, was far more courteous and polite than the Men they had met in their long lives. It was not often they met someone like Estel. "There is nothing that I need, but I would like to offer my services as a Healer, if you ever have need of assistance with the wounded."

At this, Elrond looked to him. "You are a Healer?"

"I am familiar with the arts of healing." Aragorn answered, dipping his chin in acknowledgement.

"Is that so?" Gil-galad murmured, mostly to himself. "We may have need of you soon. We are expecting an attack from the Orcs by tonight, if not tomorrow at the latest." The High-King said, appearing troubled and unsettled by this. "But you have yet to heal yourself."

"My wounds can wait." Aragorn declared. "There will be others far more injured than I that will be of top priority. I would rather tend to them than remain here knowing that I could be of some use."

If the Elves were amazed by this Man before, they were even more so now. Noticing that the Elves were staring at him, Aragorn shifted, feeling much like a child being reprimanded. Had he done something?

'And you call yourself a King...' Aragorn thought to himself, amusedly. Another thought struck Aragorn. He was no longer King! He was free from his duties until he could locate Aranyth, and find a way to bring them home. There was no need to rush back to Gondor, unless time hadn't stopped since Aragorn had left, and there was no need for him to sport the accursed crown he was required to wear. Aragorn felt immense relief wash over him. He could finally relax and be himself. He could be a Ranger once more, even though it may only be for a short time. 'Thank the Valar.'

Or, perhaps not.

Aragorn silently sighed when he remembered that he had fallen right into the first War of the Ring. Suppressing the urge to sigh once again, Aragorn looked up to find Gil-galad and Elrond quietly conversing. He remained silent, his hand subconsciously reaching for his blade, a habit he had acquired during his time as a Ranger. His fingers grasped at the empty air. Glancing down, Aragorn found that his sword was not at his side. Frowning, he scanned the tent for Narsil. Aranyth had returned the blade to him when she had returned to Gondor with Aradorn. He recalled the weeks of despair and mourning that had taken hold of Gondor after he had struggled to announce that Aranyth, the people's beloved princess, was dead and that one of the Rivendell princes, Elrudyn, had fallen. Aragorn didn't know how anyone made it through those weeks. He hadn't done anything for the first few days, too in shock and in grief to focus. He distinctly remembered being in denial. He refused to believe his one and only daughter, his little girl, was no longer a part of Middle Earth. For days, Aragorn had ventured from the Palace and sat himself in Aranyth's favorite garden, recalling all memories of her. From the time he first beheld her after she was born, when she had scored her first 'real' injury and he held her as she cried, to when he started to train her in the arts of war, and so forth...

A wistful expression overcame Aragorn's features. How he wished things could return to the way they used to be. He could remember how he always looked forward to spending some time with his children between breaks or after long days. They used to gather together as a family in the evenings and converse or read together, sometimes telling stories of what had occurred during the day. They never did that anymore. Estel and Aranyth, Aragorn knew, had taken it upon themselves to gather the smaller ones together and reading them a bedtime story. They hardly ate together anymore, Aragorn also realized. Another thing that always raised Aragorn's spirits was when Aranyth or the little ones would 'attack' him while he was working to see if he needed anything and to say they loved him. Estel would sometimes seat himself in his Father's office to do some work, but Aragorn knew that was his son's way of at least having some more time with him.

This had been one of Aragorn's major concern about becoming king. He knew it would be hard for him to balance being King and being a loving Father and husband. How could he do both? His time on Middle-Earth was limited as it was, and he wanted to spend the majority of it surrounded by his family. Being free. Every once in a while, Aragorn would take a few days off, but that was never enough. Whatever happened to those days he used to have when it was just he, Arwen, and the three of his eldest children? He didn't want Thalion, Elrudan, or Eldarion to feel left out or unloved. And now there were two more on the way.

Shaking himself from his reverie, Aragorn returned back to the present. He located Narsil tucked carefully beneath his cot and walked over. Grabbing a nearby scrap of cloth, Aragorn quickly, but delicately, wrapped the blade in it then hid it from sight. Should Elrond or Gil-galad spot the sword and recognize it, there would be trouble. Once he stood and dusted himself off, Elrond and Gil-galad had finished their discussion and turned to tell him what they had decided upon.

"It appears," Gil-galad began, addressing Aragorn, "that we are short on Healers. Our last encampment was taken by surprise by Orcs and several Healers died protecting their patients. To compensate for this loss, we have sent Healers to all other Elven encampments." The High-King explained. "Because of this, we have combined our forces." The High-King seemed to cringe as he said this, even Elrond appeared troubled, and Aragorn had a feeling he knew why.

"Our Medics have joined with King Oropher's." Elrond finished for Gil-galad. Aragorn pursed his lips. He had received a brief account from Erestor about this. Amroth had believed there was a possibility the Noldor and Sindar would forge a new friendship, but it only served to widen the gap between them. That lead to Oropher reestablishing himself over his warriors and causing disunity between the Elves. Aragorn knew this was what caused their downfall. The First Alliance had broken into shambles after the War was over. Men lost the trust of the Elves, Elves lost trust with each other, and the world of Arda was separated. The kingdoms shared a tense relationship with other realms. Lothlorien and Rivendell would be fine, seeing as Elrond and Celebrian had married, and the Dunedain would be welcomed to their Realms. It wouldn't be until many centuries later when the chance meeting between Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas happened that Greenwood and Rivendell would mend ends. Rivendell and Greenwood had only held together because of Glorfindel, who had befriended both Elrond and Thranduil.

Aragorn pondered over this for a moment. This would not do. It would not do at all. He could tell both the High King and Elrond believed the same. He could only imagine how reluctant they were.

"Seeing as you refuse to allow yourself to rest," Elrond added, and Aragorn had the grace to appear somewhat sheepish, "You will be placed in the Northern quarter of the Medical encampment, under Lord Glorfindel's supervision."

Aragorn barely managed to control his surprise.

They would be putting him under Glorfindel's supervision?

Oh Valar...

-Nescit Cedere-

"We have arrived." Elrond quietly whispered to Aragorn, pulling the tent flap aside to allow Gil-galad and the Dunedain through. The Noldor and Half-Elven had taken it upon themselves to show Aragorn where the Medical Encampment was and which Tent he would be working in. It wasn't too far from where Aragorn had been situated, but it wasn't close either. Not that he was complaining. Aragorn felt better that he could be doing something. He knew his first priority was to find Aranyth, but it was too dangerous to venture out on his own, especially during the first War of the Ring. He would have to wait.

Something Aragorn did not want to do. He wanted to find his daughter right away- to see if she was safe and sound. He worried for Aranyth. He did not know where she was or where to look. She could be anywhere! From Rohan to Isengard, Rivendell to Greenwood, Gondor, or even worse...Mordor. Was she alone? Was she hurt?

Aragorn did not know, and it worried him so. Following after the High-King and his herald, Aragorn discovered they were in a large Medical Tent. Cots were aligned alongside the 'walls' of the tents with a few scattered throughout the center to allow Healers room to move. There were few Healers about the tent, checking on the wounded here and there, all of whom were Elves. Aragorn idly found himself thinking of how he was the only mortal around, but did not allow that to bother him. A few questioning glances were thrown their way, but the three ignored them, striding over to where Glorfindel was supposedly located. They were nearing their destination when soft voices drifted their way.

"What do you mean 'it is lost?'" One voice, Aragorn could immediately recognize as Glorfindel's, sounded. It was as smooth and flowing as he remembered it, with a calming, but firm undertone.

"Must I always repeat myself to you?" Another voice sighed in exasperation. Aragorn felt a smile threaten to rise when he recognized it to be Erestor, the 'Fearsome' Chief Counselor. "I do believe I said that they are lost, Lord Glorfindel, or do you not understand that?"

Aragorn could just imagine Glorfindel's irritation.

"I do understand that, Lord Erestor. What I do not understand is how they came to be lost!" Glorfindel snapped with emphasis. "Or can you not bring yourself to admit that you have lost the cursed plans?"

Erestor, Aragorn knew, bristled from Glorfindel's accusation. "I am very meticulous with my work, thank you, Glorfindel!" The Advisor retorted in anger. "Valar forbid that I actually lose something as important as those plans! It is impossible that I misplaced them by accident! I specifically placed them in my own tent, but as you can see, they are no longer there and it was not I who moved them!"

"Valar...What ever could be the matter now...?" Aragorn heard Elrond mutter under his breath while Gil-galad smiled in amusement. Aragorn found himself grinning as well, remembering all those times when Erestor and Glorfindel would bicker over the smallest things. It was most entertaining, even more entertaining than when the twins would argue. Glorfindel, as he once told Estel, purposefully provoked the 'uptight' Chief Advisor of Elrond because it was always amusing to see Erestor become flustered and transform from the calm, mysterious dark Elf he was to a downright murderous one. Elrond turned to Gil-galad when the bickering between Erestor and Glorfindel continued. "I do not see how they manage to get any work done."

Gil-galad hummed in agreement. "Glorfindel and Erestor know when it is time for work to be done...I tell you, Elrond, they will become the greatest of friends one day."

"I do not see that happening anytime soon." Elrond murmured under his breath. Aragorn kept silent. He knew for a certainty that Glorfindel and Erestor would become inseparable later on.

"Glorfindel! I tell you! I had them, but they are no longer there!"

"By the Valar, Erestor! What could have possibly happened, then?!" Glorfindel demanded to know, just as the three walked in. Glorfindel and Erestor were both standing on opposite ends of a table, Glorfindel gripping the edges tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, and Erestor tightening his hold on the tome he carried in his arms. Glorfindel's deep blue orbs were swirling with worry and irritation, his smooth features marred by the disbelieving and serious expression he wore. His long, golden, hair cascaded down his back and fell over his shoulders, with warrior braids holding it out of his face. A silver circlet rested atop his head matching the silver armor that Glorfindel wore and the deep blue cape attached to the shoulder blades. Gondolin's symbol was engraved in the front of his chest armor, clearly stating Glorfindel's origins. Erestor was the complete opposite of the other. Where Glorfindel was light, Erestor was dark. His long, raven black, hair was carefully done, with two braids falling over his shoulders, and two other braids woven together at the back of his head. The rest of his dark hair fell in waves down his back. Erestor wore dark, violet, robes with light, silver armor hidden beneath, and a circlet around his head. Erestor met Glorfindel's gaze steadily, his expression darkening and his lips pursed together.

Glorfindel then flung his arms into the air, exclaiming, "The plans could not have suddenly sprouted arms and legs and skittered away!"

Erestor's tome slammed against the tabletop, the dark Elf's hand resting on the cover of the book as the adviser growled, "Do not make light of the situation, Glorfindel!"

To which Glorfindel replied, "I am not making light of the situation, you son of an orc!" The Golden Elf planted both hands firmly against the table. Erestor blinked, gritting his teeth together in agitation as he pinned the Golden Elf with his famous 'Death glare.'

"Call me another-" Erestor threateningly began but was cut off by Glorfindel.

"Does that truly matter at the moment!?" He threw the dark Elf a look, daring the adviser to contradict him. Erestor wisely held his tongue, but his violet orbs spoke volumes of the fury he felt. There was animosity in both their eyes as they glared at one another, there gazes never once wavering. Aragorn had to take a double take. He knew Glorfindel and Erestor didn't always get along before they became friends, but this was most certainly not what he would have expected. The Elves appeared ready to rip one another's throats out! In fact, Glorfindel was in the position where if Erestor were to agitate him even further, he would be ready to tackle him to the ground. From the looks of it, too, Aragorn would not be surprised if that were to happen. Elrond went to interrupt. He barely took two steps when Gil-galad raised a hand, signalling for him to wait. Elrond cast him a look, silently asking if that were a wise thing to do. Gil-galad only indicated for him to wait.

After a moment of tense silence, Erestor spoke, his voice betraying the feelings he was experiencing. "Believe me, Glorfindel, I would never allow those plans out of my sight. I turned around for a moment, and when I looked again, they had vanished. I never once touched them." He calmly informed the Golden Elf, his voice wavering as he struggled to regain his composure. Glorfindel bowed his head, heaving a large sigh.

"You mean to tell me," He started, taking a moment to collect himself. "That they were stolen?"

Erestor rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling of the tent as if silently congratulating Glorfindel for having finally figured it out. "That is precisely what I have been trying to say!" He said. "Had you listened to me, you would have understood!"

Aragorn and the two Elves could see Glorfindel fighting to reign in his irritation, taking another deep, calming breath. Aragorn nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the tension melt from the atmosphere. Just when he thought everything would be well, Glorfindel reopened his eyes and questioned,

"You could not have said so before?"

Aragorn knew his shoulders dropped as he shook his head. They were worse than the twins!

"Are you daft!?" Erestor incredulously shouted. Aragorn could have sworn he saw Glorfindel's lips twitch upward and hid a knowing smile. So, Glorfindel was only playing with Erestor. Erestor, however, did not seem to notice this. The dark elf trembled, a testament to how livid he was at the moment. There was silence for another tense moment as Erestor tried to collect himself. "I do wish you would take this seriously, Glorfindel. As you can see, the plans have been stolen and we know not who has taken it and for what reason!"

"Indeed." Glorfindel nodded in agreement, becoming serious once again. "I will scour the perimeter. That would leave you to search the encampment. I trust you can do that?"

Erestor flashed him an irked look. "I am quite capable, thank-you, but it will have to wait. If I am not mistaken, we are expecting Lord Gil-galad and Lord Elrond at any moment."

Gil-galad chose that moment to make their presence known.

"Evening, Glorfindel, Erestor." The High-King greeted, as if he had just arrived. Glorfindel and Erestor straightened at once, turning to greet the Elf.

"Lord Gil-galad." They both chimed, bowing and placing a hand over their heart.

"I see we are the first to arrive." Gil-galad commented, looking around the tent, giving no indication that he, Elrond, and Aragorn had been there for quite a while already.

"King Oropher and his son should be arriving soon, milord." Erestor spoke up, gathering the scrolls that were lying on the table and rolling them up. He placed the scrolls neatly on the side, in alphabetical order. Aragorn watched as Glorfindel rolled his eyes at the meticulous advisor, and when Erestor wasn't watching, switched two of the scrolls. Aragorn valiantly fought the urge to smile. They were no different than from his time. Only, in this time, they were not yet friends. Elrond shook his head at Glorfindel, who only grinned in response. The grin was quickly wiped off when Erestor raised an eyebrow at him. Feigning innocence, Glorfindel turned his attention to the High King.

"It appears Elendil and Isildur will be absent from this meeting." He informed the tall Elf. Though Gil-galad was taller than Elrond and Erestor by a couple inches, Glorfindel towered them all. He was nearly a head taller than Gil-galad, and clearly more powerful.

Elrond nodded at this, pursing his lips together. "I heard wind of an emergency in the northern quarters of their camp. I do hope it is nothing serious."

"I suppose we will find out on the morrow." Gil-galad replied, approaching the table to study the map Erestor had dutifully laid out. Once Erestor finished, he happened to look over at the scrolls and blinked.

Two of his scrolls had been switched, and he knew who had done it. Violet orbs flickered up to glare at Glorfindel as he returned the 'B' and 'V' scrolls where they belonged. Glorfindel pretended not to have noticed.

"This is troubling, Erestor." Gil-galad's deep voice pierced the silence that had settled in the tent as the High-King raised his troubled gaze to meet Elrond's. The Half-elf mirrored his Lord's expression, also unsettled by what the map was telling them. Aragorn leaned over to catch a glimpse of what the map read. There were markings all over the map, stretching from Mordor to the surroundings of their encampment.

Elrond grimly shook his head.

"So, the rumors are true." He stated, rather than questioned.

"I am afraid so." Erestor answered, pointing to a few of the darker markings closest to the Dagorlad plains. "I gathered as much information as I could without arousing suspicion, and this was what I found. The Orcs plan to attack in the early morning, just before Anor rises. They hope to catch us off guard by attacking at an unworldly hour."

"But that is not all." Glorfindel declared, catching the look Erestor wore. Aragorn also recognized it. The look that promised them that they would not like what was to come next. Erestor's violet orbs dimmed.

"The Orcs are to receive reinforcements." He proclaimed. "How many, I do not know, but I do know that they are powerful. More powerful than the armies of the Orcs combined."

Aragorn raised his head at this. 'More powerful than the armies of the Orcs combined'? What could be more powerful than an army of Orcs? Other than Sauron...there were the...

The King's eyes widened. Sauron's servants...Those who served the Ring! Aragorn felt his entire being grow cold. Just the thought of them chilled his blood. He had encountered them before. He remembered their bloodcurdling screams that filled the night air. He recalled clearly the way the air seemed to grow cold in their presence. His mind was cast back to when he encountered the creatures on Amon Sul.

"Do we know if it is another army?" Glorfindel questioned, concerned by the ill tidings Erestor had given.

"Nay. Not another army." Said the dark Elf. "I heard they were few in number, but strong. Where they hail from, I do not know. Nor do I know when it is they are to arrive."

"Rimodyl?" Elrond suggested, only to have Erestor give him a negative response.

"The Rimodyl are too few in number. They would not dare to risk extinction."

"Surely not...the spawns of Morgoth." Gil-galad carefully said and every Elf discretely glanced in Glorfindel's direction. The Golden Elf's face was impassive. his eyes blank, but each noted the way his Elven glow had dimmed and his grip tightened on the edge of the table. Elrond's brow furrowed in worry. Balrogs would cause utter destruction to the Elves and Men. An army of Orcs, he was certain they could handle and fend off, but should their reinforcements include Balrogs, he was uncertain.

"No...It is said they are far worse than Balrogs." Erestor said, watching Glorfindel closely. The Elf had relaxed somewhat, but upon hearing that these reinforcements were worse than Balrogs, grew tense.

"What could they be?" Elrond wondered aloud, crossing his arms. Aragorn shook his head. How did they not know? To him, it was obvious who the Orcs were to receive as reinforcements. Who else would Sauron send to accomplish his dirty work? Especially if he felt threatened or endangered.

"The Nazgul." Aragorn's low voice uttered. The air suddenly seemed to freeze as the Elves turned to look at him, Glorfindel and Erestor surprised upon finding a mortal standing in their midst.

"What did you say?" Gil-galad slowly questioned, hoping he had misheard the man. Aragorn raised his grey eyes to meet the High-King's piercing gaze.

"The Nazgul are who the Orcs are expecting." He repeated, his voice neutral with an underlying tone of foreboding. "Ringwraiths. Sauron is sending them."

"How do you know?" Elrond inquired, eyeing the man intently. The Elves watched as Aragorn's grey orbs danced with several emotions. Pain, grief, loss, and a twinge of anger.

"The Nazgul are Sauron's most powerful servants. They serve the One and will do anything in their power to protect it. They would do anything the One commands."

"The One?" Glorfindel repeated, a little confused. "Do you mean Sauron?"

It was then Aragorn realized his mistake and cursed himself. He had forgotten that none had known about the Ring until Isildur had cut Sauron's hand.

"The One..." Erestor murmured, the name sounding very familiar to the Elf. Casting Aragorn a suspicious look, he demanded, "What do you know of Sauron's new weapon? Actually, how did you come to know of it?"

Aragorn felt his heart beating against his chest as he tried to think of an answer. How could he have let that slip? Now they would be suspicious of him if he did not think of a decent answer!

"I was unfortunate enough to encounter the Nazguls." He decided to say. "More than once, to my misfortune. During their attacks, I overheard the Nazguls claiming they served the One, as well as many Orcs I have crossed blades with."

"You are a warrior, then?" Glorfindel inquired, tilting his head and studying Aragorn. The Golden Elf, Aragorn knew, was searching Aragorn to see if he was a threat to them, or someone they should suspect of ill intent. He could find no sign, however, of danger. No, he could sense the warmth and compassion emanating from the Man. He also had a light glow enveloping his being.

'He has Elven blood in his veins...' The Balrog Slayer thought to himself. Deciding the mortal wasn't someone to distrust, Glorfindel waited for his answer.

Aragorn felt inwardly relieved Glorfindel didn't suspect him and answered his previous question.

"I was..." Aragorn trailed off, thinking back on his days spent as a Ranger. Back when he was free and not confined to the Palace. The burden of the crown was something Aragorn never had worried about until the Ring had been found. All throughout his journey with the Fellowship, Aragorn always thought about Gondor. He knew it was time for the Kingdom to rise, but he didn't know if he was capable of ruling it. He didn't want to. If it hadn't been for Legolas and the support of his family, Aragorn may never have chosen to take up the crown and become King of Gondor. He never once regretted it, no, but then he had a family and now...Aragorn didn't know if being King was worth it. The doubts from before returned to him, troubling him many nights in a row. "I am no longer."

"I see...Have you ever discovered what 'the One' is?" Glorfindel ventured to ask. Here, Aragorn hesitated, which turned out to be another mistake. Erestor, ever the observant Elf, had caught onto the hesitation and was quick to pick at it.

"You know what it is." Erestor shot Aragorn the 'look.' The one that told Aragorn he would be unable to weave himself out of the spotlight. He was now the center of their attention and Erestor was going to do whatever he could to get the information he wanted. Aragorn, however, did not want to say anything. He feared the possible outcomes. Who knew what could happen should Aragorn tell them about the Ring? Would it do them any good? Would it make matters worse? He needed to tread carefully. His presence may have disrupted some events, but should Aragorn not take caution in what he said or did, it could possibly lead to trouble. That, was something he did not want to risk.

"Estel,"

Aragorn automatically raised his head to look at Elrond. "Milord?" He thickly swallowed. How many times had Elrond said his name before he became Strider, or Aragorn? It had been so long... It was only the twins, Legolas, Glor and 'Restor who called him by his childhood name. Even when Elrond set sail for Valinor, he had called Aragorn his birth name. It made him wonder if he had lost his place as Elrond's son. Had Elrond ever consider him his son? He would never know.

"It may be prudent for us to know what weapon Sauron has created, for the sake of Middle Earth." Elrond kindly advised him. Aragorn bit back a retort. It would not matter either way. Unless the Elves planned on doing something about the Ring -which would be near impossible. The only way to destroy it was if it was cast into the fires of Mount Doom where it was created. But, should the Ring be destroyed in the Second Age, everything that had come to pass afterwards, would change. Something Aragorn knew he could not allow.

"I am afraid, my Lords, that I cannot tell you." Aragorn finally admitted, after some thought. The Elves, he could tell, were not satisfied with this answer. Erestor was not swayed.

"Cannot or will not?" the dark Elf asked. Aragorn faced him, looking Erestor in the eye. He would not give in. No matter what Erestor tried, he would not pry any information from him.

"Both." He evenly answered. "I cannot tell you for I do not know what consequences that could bring, and I will not tell you for it may cause more harm than good. I cannot risk telling you."

"How would you know?" Gil-galad rhetorically asked him. "The fate of Middle-Earth's future is undecided. We do not know what can or will happen."

'But I do.' Aragorn thought to himself, sighing softly. He yearned to help them as much as he could, but he could not. "I have seen many things, Lord Gil-galad. Things that were... things that are, and some things...that have not yet come to pass." He ominously stated, intertwining his fingers behind his back as he continued. "It would not be wise for me to give you the answers you seek. I am afraid you must discover them for yourself."

Nothing was said after Aragorn had finished speaking, and Aragorn found himself distantly wondering whether he had said the correct thing or not.

Gil-galad pondered over Aragorn's words. They rang true to every Elf in the room, and he could see the hesitation and worry in Aragorn's eyes. Though he did not like the answer he was given, Gil-galad would respect Aragorn's wishes.

"Very well." He finally said, much to Aragorn's relief. His relief was short-lived when Erestor narrowed his eyes on him.

'Lovely...Erestor suspects me...' Aragorn silently murmured to himself. 'He will be watching my every move now...'

The two, mortal and Elf, continued to stare at one another, neither willing to back down. Should Aragorn avert his gaze, Erestor would immediately pounce on him. Aragorn knew that Erestor was a sly and highly intelligent Elf. He would find one way or another of gaining information from Aragorn. Even the slightest of hints or the smallest of slips would give everything away.

It was Elrond who decided enough was enough.

"Ah, Glorfindel, Erestor, you have not yet had the pleasure of meeting Estel." the Herald spoke, earning everyone's attention. Erestor made sure to hint to Aragorn that they were not through before giving Elrond his full attention. Elrond was about to continue when Erestor suddenly growled, catching sight of Glorfindel moving in the corner of his eye.

"Glorfindel,"

The Golden Elf paused mid-reach, his hand dangling just above one of the scrolls.

"Touch any of those scrolls and I will incapacitate you." Erestor darkly threatened. Glorfindel raised his hand in surrender.

"Whatever do you mean, 'Restor?" He innocently inquired.

"It is E-restor, not 'Restor." Erestor corrected. Turning to face Elrond, though making sure to keep Glorfindel in sight, Erestor beckoned for Elrond to continue. Elrond cleared his throat.

"As I was saying, you will recall earlier today, King Oropher's son brought a wounded man to our encampment." The Half-Elf indicated to Aragorn when Glorfindel hummed in a positive response. "This is the man Prince Thranduil rescued. He is one of the Dunedain known as Estel."

Briefly, Elrond filled Glorfindel and Erestor in on what Aragorn had told the High-King and the Half-elf about his past. Erestor listened closely, hanging onto every word Elrond spoke in the hopes of solving the puzzle that stood before them. Once Elrond was finished, though, Erestor was not pleased. The dark Elf knew Aragorn had only told snippets of his past and not the full truth about who he was. He was hiding his true identity, Erestor knew. But why?

Could he possibly be in league with Sauron?

Erestor frowned deeply at this troubling thought, trying to recount every person he had met in Mordor. Never once did he see this man within the Dark Land, and that did not bode well with him. Erestor prided himself in being an observant, and detailed, Elf. He was attentive to everything. Many knew him for his keen mind and sight. But this man...This man was a mystery Erestor could not solve. There were several pieces missing from the puzzle, and Erestor intended to find them and put them together.

Another troubling thought entered his mind. Earlier that day, when Estel was brought to Elrond by the King and Prince of the Woodland Elves, the plans had gone missing. Estel's arrival provided a distraction that the thief needed to snatch the papers. Could it be possible...? Coincidence?

Erestor knew not. He glimpsed over to study the mortal once again, and was surprised to find the mortal watching him. It was not the fact that the man was watching him that disturbed Erestor, but the look in his grey eyes.

Those eyes...

They danced with recognition and wariness. Erestor felt his suspicions rise. This man knew him and knew that he was an Elf to be cautious around. How did this man know him? They had never met. At least, not that Erestor remembered. The longer Erestor held the man's gaze, the more those eyes continued to change. The emotion behind them became guarded, almost as if the Adan knew Erestor was analyzing him, waiting for him to show some sort of weakness. Though Estel was trying to hide from him, Erestor could still see the longing hidden behind those eyes.

Longing?

He had noticed the same exact thing whenever Estel would look Elrond's or Glorfindel's way. His countenance was always warm whenever he glanced their way. Even when Estel would look to him, Erestor realized. Why would that be? The man appeared to want to tell them something, but was keeping himself silent. He knew them...He knew all of them but neither of them knew him.

Erestor bit his lower lip. This man would prove to be a difficult puzzle. One Erestor did not know he could solve.

-Nescit Cedere-

Hahahaha! I did it! I finished another chapter! Whew, hopefully I'll be able to get the next one up. It's finals week, so...I dunno. See you later!