Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I make no money from this writing.

We must make for the shore soon. I must check both boys and try to ensure that they can continue. What we shall do if they cannot, I do not know. My only plan is to travel downstream as far and as fast as we can, and hope to find a larger band of Estel's people at one of the other meeting points on the river. I must speak to Halbarad, who must know more than I of the other members of his company. His company to be. I wonder for a moment if he has passed his Test. Initiation is an important part of their culture, and Estel must be tested in his turn.

I listen while the two boys talk quietly, urgently to one another. Halbarad is more voluble than Estel, who becomes more and more silent as we travel. I worry that he is not telling me what is wrong with him. I wonder what lessons he is learning from his experience of the outside world.

I must not think too much. I must watch for the orcs following us, for the river is not so swift and they could follow. But all I can hear is the water and Halbarad's voice.

"Estel?" I say. "Do you need to stop?"

He looks back and nods briefly. There is something wrong but he is not going to tell me in front of the other boy.

I steer our boat into the southern bank. We have travelled far and it is just becoming light. Halbarad jumps out as soon as we touch land. I warn him not to stray far but he jumps away from us and is off up the bank without looking back. Concerned, I turn to Estel. His face is pale in the thin light, which barely colours the landscape.

"I think he feels ill," Estel explains. "He will not show any weakness in front of us. He will stay close."

"Then let us get out and find some food, Brother. We have a long way to travel."

"I cannot," he says, and I step forward to sit by him.

"Are you afraid?" I ask, puzzled.

"Yes, but it is not that. I am caught fast. I thought I could free myself but I cannot pull out the arrow."

He turns a little and raises his right arm. I have to reach across him to see what is the trouble.

A wicked, black-feathered arrow goes right into his tunic.

"Estel! Why did you not say anything? You are incorrigible!"

He looks shocked at my anger and I instantly regret my words.

"It missed me!" he says. "I don't know how, but it is only pinning the material here to the shell of the boat. I cannot pull it free."

I pull and twist, then pull again and at last the head of the arrow comes clear. I thread it back through the material of his tunic and check it, sniffing for poison. It is crudely made but still barbed and sharp. And it is clean of poison. I throw it into the river, not knowing whether to curse it for its making or bless it for its poor flight. I make Estel pull up his tunic and find the arrowhead cut him a little but he does not even need a stitch.

He is anxious to be off the boat and I let him go. He is safe for a few minutes at least, and both boys need moments to themselves. I pull the boat up higher and pull out five more arrows. I check round quickly then take the line from my belt and throw it in the river, with a prayer that the fish may be biting. My wish is granted and I have one fish by the time Estel returns, and a second is about to take the bait. He is scratching his side and I check it again but there is no sign of anything more than a shallow cut.

"We should stop for a fire, and cook these fish. I shall gather comfrey for your arm and then we will continue downstream."

He looks at me coolly, his grey eyes studying me intently. I want to brush his dark hair away from his face and somehow know what he is thinking. I feel he is going away from me a little and that I cannot speak to him as I used to, to tell him what to do.

I modify my instructions. "Do you wish to return now to Imladris?" It broaches a sore subject, that it was his choice to leave and find his people, and only my offer of a boat and my company and protection which turned him from taking that path by himself.

He does not hesitate. "No. We must take Halbarad back to his people. He is very sad, I think. I have been trying to think what I could say to make him feel better but I could not think of anything. I wanted to say …" he hesitated and I reached out to him. He takes a step closer. "I thought to tell him that the Dúnedan died to save him and – and that at least he had not lost his father, as I did. But I could not say such a thing."

"No," I agree. "Whatever the loss, whether father, friend or horse, it cuts deeply. We all know what it is to lose someone dear to us, Estel, so we must keep together." He knows something of the loss of my mother but not the whole story.

He looks at me again, the wisdom born in him there in his eyes for a moment, before the child, the hungry and tired and frightened child, re-asserts itself.

"I want to eat now. Is it safe?"

"I will light a fire and heat some water and cook these fish, then I will scout round a little. Care for Halbarad, as best you can. I think we are safe for a while."

With help from both the boys – Halbarad returns to us, dry-eyed but pale and too quiet where he was too talkative before – I soon have a small, hot fire going. I tell the boys to stay there and they nod, taking turns to feed the fire and watch the fish. Halbarad has retrieved his bag and draws from it some waybread and a water bottle. He pours the water away and I offer to fill it from the river.

When I take it back, the boys are sharing a fish, eating it delicately from the bones, and they have drawn closer together. I leave the water bottle with them and run upstream, following the twists and turns of the river for a while. Nothing I hear, or see, or smell alarms me. I leave sign in two places, in the hopes that Elladan may be trying to find us, but I see no one.

I run back to camp, thinking to gather up the boys, put out the fire and head downstream immediately but my plans change as soon as I come back to the camp place.

There is Halbarad, his finger on his lips. Leaning against him, fast asleep, sits Estel. I go to sit next to the taller boy, put my arm round his shoulders, whisper, "One half hour, no more," to him, and hold him as he sags against me.

I suppose they could have slept in the boat, but there was barely room for them and it was not so comfortable there.

I try to listen for my Father's voice, try to tell him what had happened but I am too tired and need my strength to watch over the two sleeping boys. All I can do is to trust that we will not be found.

tbc