Thank you if you reviewed the first chapter! Your reviews inspire me a lot! However, this chapter was very, very awkward to write (and I have no idea why) so please forgive me… I wanted to re-write it but promised to get it up as soon as possible, so here it is. I tried to make it longer but had to cut some stuff out (it's complicated) so it's not too different to the first one. I know I've made about a million mistakes, but l still hope that you'll enjoy it anyway :)

Chapter 2 – Of Hope Lost and Found

"I wish I could have seen him… one last time."

The jewel slipped from his fingers, shattering into a million pieces upon contact with the floor, the only witness Aragorn's horror filled eyes… and some other presence, which he couldn't decipher. He jolted awake, swiftly unsheathing his knife as if to protect the evenstar. The only emotion his could register was pain. Pain and lost hope. You don't live up to your name this day, and you never will, his mind told him.

"Sir? King Theoden awaits you."

Aragorn loosened his grip on the knife. It was only one of the King's men. They left with a worried frown. The future King of Gondor got to his feet. He was shaking with heat and cold, both numb and on fire at the same time. The mess of emotions stirring inside him threatened to choke him. He knew something had changed, but he wasn't sure what. Unable to think properly, he made his way to King Theoden's tent. Pushing aside the thin fabric he entered, and was immediately confronted with the sight of the King, sitting next to a mysterious, hooded figure. Theoden got up and muttered 'I take my leave'. He did not meet Aragorn's eyes.

A few seconds passed; neither of the two spoke. Then, almost painfully, the stranger looked up. A cloud of confusion and anxiety passed over Aragorn's eyes.

"I come bearing tiding of Arwen", said Elrond half-elven, raising his clear grey eyes to meet his adopted sons'. There was a pause. "She is passing into the West."

Suddenly, the haziness in Aragorn's eyes diminished. They darkened and took on a stormier look. Anger started to overcome the future King's body. He had no idea what was happening to him, and he had no control over it.

"She promised", he hissed. "She promised. Are elves not creatures of honour then, Elrond? For I've never heard of an elf breaking a promise before."

"You released her from that promise, Estel", countered the elven-lord. "She is a half-elf."

"So you are saying that Legolas would not break a promise whilst Arwen would, simply because he is a pureblood?"

"It is not quite like that, Estel. Only if she is released-"

"But it's exactly like that, isn't it… I should never have loved her. Friends share a stronger bond than lovers, as you have made quite clear to me-"

"I said nothing of the kind, Estel. I simply stated that as Thranduil's son is a pureblood, he would not, and could not break a promise, whereas Arwen as a half-elf may be released from a promise. She would not break one. I mentioned no friends and lovers."

"Maybe I released her, but she denied even wanting to sail… she said she could never leave me." Tears sprung to Aragorn's eyes, which he quickly and successfully willed away. He felt such a sudden and intense hatred for all of elvenkind it was frightening. "Maybe you aren't quite as perfect as us mortals would believe."

"Enough, Aragorn", shot back the half-elf, his own temper rising. "You are being completely unreasonable and you know it. You agreed to let her sail. You said you would have her leave these shores. You believed her to have left." Finally, Aragorn was silenced. A moment later, he sank into a chair.

"I know", he said quietly. "It's just… I had these dreams… it was as if she was dying…"

"Not dying, Estel."

Aragorn rose slowly from the chair.

"I have to see her."

"Estel, no. Would you throw away victory for the non-existent chance of seeing Arwen again? As the future king of Gondor, the peoples hope is founded by you. Are you choosing one being over the fate of Middle-Earth?"

"So you would have me leave this world without her?" Aragorn knew the words were unforgivably selfish as soon he said them.

"And you would have her parted from her kin forever? You both have your own paths to follow, and hers differs somewhat from yours." The elven-lords tone was clipped and sharp; he was clearly annoyed as well as saddened.

"What path is there for me to take, then, my Lord?"

"No formalities, Estel. I have been Elrond to you since you were a mere babe. And here is where the true purpose of my journey is revealed. You need more men, and you know it. You have already performed great deeds, and will perform many more in the upcoming war as the future king of Gondor. You have earned the peoples trust, hope and love; now you must earn your title."

And with that Elrond reached for a black leather scabbard, protecting the gift Aragorn had been waiting for all his life. He held it in his hands, as if offering it to Aragorn. The future king of men closed his eyes for a moment; when he opened them, there was a new light shining in them. He reached for the hilt, his outstretched fingers grasping it with determination. Drawing it swiftly from its scabbard, a smile of sorts played upon his lips.

"Andúril, flame of the West, reforged from the shards of Narsil. Bear it well, Aragorn. For you will not win this war if no others come, you know this in your heart. Take the paths only the King of Gondor may tread, to hope and victory. Become who you were born to be." And with a sweep of black robe the Elf-Lord was gone, riding silently into the night.

Oh well. Please R&R. Constructive criticism is absolutely fine – I think I need it right now. Something's gone wrong with my mind…