They avoid talking about Percy's wound for as long as they can, but soon enough they're sitting in silence. Thalia's looking out the window, and Nico is stretching in his chair when Percy asks, quietly, "How close? How close was I?"

The two share a glance, before Thalia sighs. She fiddles with a ring on her hand, not daring to take her eyes off of it, afraid of what she would see.

"It was bad. Really bad. We, we really thought this was it Percy."

"Well, we've thought that before, and we've been wrong before."
Percy groaned, slowly sitting up. "How bad Thalia?"

Thalia's eyes suddenly met his as she tore her gaze away from her ring, and Percy was shocked to see tears gathering in them.

"Perce, you stopped breathing. For about three minutes. It was pretty bad. Aragorn thought you weren't going to make it. I could tell. The rest of the camp pretty much gave you up for dead once you were stabbed, but Aragorn only really started losing faith after that.

You didn't sound good. Your breathing was really difficult, and you, you were pale. So pale. Everytime I went to sleep, I was afraid you wouldn't be there when I woke up. Me and Neeks, we took shifts sleeping, so someone was always watching you. Nico said that he could feel you dying."

Nico, who had been standing in the corner, leaning against the wall, ducked his head at that.

"It was, really horrible. A day after your heart stopped, I think Aragorn finally had enough. He grabbed Faramir and Eomer and rode to the city with you. We were with him of course. He worked through the night, and he eventually worked the Morgul shard out. But it was close."

Nico and Thalia are still watching him like he might drop dead any moment, but Percy can't help but smile.

"I mean, hey, live to fight another day and all that shit. Don't sweat it. I've been through worse and come out the other side."

Nico at least attempts a smile, although it is very clearly fake, but Thalia just chews on her lip, looking at him worriedly.

Percy sighs. "What is it?"

"No, it's nothing," Thalia mumbles, still looking at him. Percy stares her down, and her hand starts to fidget nervously. "Thalia, we don't lie to each other. Don't start doing that now."

Thalia stood abruptly, glaring at him with all the intensity of a hunter, but Percy could see fear and guilt behind the gesture. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that?"

Percy just smiled.

"Aragorn said that you might not be able to use your arm again."

The smile disappeared.

"God, I knew you would be upset Percy! I knew I shouldn't have told you! Besides, Aragorn has never treated a demigod before. We heal faster and better, you know that. He probably doesn't know what he's talking about."

Percy laughs, but it's hollow, and the they all know it. Because a demigod who can't fight, who can't hold a sword, is a dead one. And Perseus, son of Poseidon, who has countless enemies, is the most damned of them all if he can't fight back.

It's then that Nico finally speaks up, kicking off the wall he's been leaning against and plops down on the side of Percy's bed.

"Fighting over it isn't going to help anybody. You'll use your arm again or you wont. Either way, you're alive, and we're going to keep you that way. You can't use your arm, fine, we'll train you and spar with you until you don't notice a difference. And when we get back to our world, we'll take you to see Will, and he can probably do some magic shit and heal you right up."

There's a pause where they both stare at him, and Nico gets increasingly uncomfortable, fiddling with a zipper on jacket, before Percy drags him into a hug.

The tension is broken immediately, Percy and Thalia laughing as Nico tries unsuccessfully to free himself from Percy's one-handed grip. Before long he gives up, and Thalia joins in, sitting on Percy's other side, mindful of bandages.

Aragorn had fled to his chambers almost immediately after healing the boy. Eomer and Faramir had asked him to stay and rest for a moment, but he refused, telling them he would be alright and to go to your chambers, and see their wives. He was left in the capable hands of the healers, with his cousins watching over him, and Aragorn had given orders to send for him the moment he awakened. Now, he wished to see his wife.

It was a long walk to his quarters from the Halls of Healing, and he stayed in the shadows, going unseen by the various nobles milling about in the midday sun. He would deal with them later.

The guards to his chambers let him through quickly enough, to his great relief. The doors swung open into the sitting room, a fire roaring to fight off the winter chill. Arwen sat there, along with her ladies-in-waiting, four young girls that she herself had picked out. Andreth and Idril, daughters of nobles, Kelda, an apprentice in the Halls of Healing that Arwen had taken a shine to, and Adela, who did not have a common background, but had distinguished herself in the rebuilding efforts after the War. They were laughing, about what he did not know. Adela had a book open in her lap, and Andreth and Idril were embroidering a cloak together.

Their heads turned as the door opened, and the four girls rose quickly and curtsied. He nodded his head and walked over to Arwen, laying a kiss on her forehead.

"Your Majesty, we did not think you would arrive for a few more days," said Adela, worrying her lip nervously.

"Peace, child. I had thought the same, but certain events occurred that sped up my return. I would appreciate if you kept the news of it silent, for a day or so." They all nodded, and remained standing for a few moments, before Arwen smiled. "Ladies, I think I would like to be alone with my husband. You are dismissed for now."

"Of course, Your Majesties," Andreth replied. They all smiled, each stepping forward to kiss her hand in turn, before curtsying again and leaving.

Aragorn quickly unbuckled his sword, before sitting on the fur rug on the floor and laying his head in her lap. She merely laughed at his foolishness, and he could not say how relieved he was to see her again.

They sat there for a long moment, before Arwen rose again, paying no heed to his complaints, and headed to their private quarters. His office door was still open, and she headed to his desk, picking up a stack of papers.

He groans, but she just laughs again.

"Don't give me that. It's been three years since the war, and the cities still rebuilding. For Valar's sake, half of the royal apartments still aren't cleared out, and the third level is still in construction."

She looks like she's about to say more, but Aragorn chuckles and kisses her, cutting her off. She smiles and rolls her eyes as he says, "you are wonderful, and brilliant, and I am so lucky to have you. I love you, so much." He picks her up and carries into their apartments, and she laughs again.

There is another fire roaring in their room, and he lays her down gently on the bed before saying, "but, I need to be Aragorn for a moment, not Elessar. I need to be a simple Ranger with his wife, not a King with his Queen.

She smiles, and kisses him. "Then let us be husband and wife for a while."

It is much later before they spoke again, Aragorn laying next to Arwen as she ran her hands through his hair, his head on her chest.

"What happened out there? And why are you here? Your arrival should have been announced."

He sighs. "The mission went completely wrong. I'm honestly still working through it myself. Gimli and Legolas caught up to us, mentioning you told them, and they had a girl with them, the lady Thalia, which was already strange enough. Then we ran into Merry and Pippin on our way to Amon Hen, and they insisted on joining us, even though I already had one hobbit too many. And it's not that I don't want them there, it's just that they are a kindly people, and I wish to spare them from any more fighting. They all fought valiantly in the War.

But Merry and Pippin had a boy with them, Percy Jackson, who was cousins with the lady Thalia. And after we met them and caught up, we headed out. We made it to Amon Hen, and we found the Necromancer. Who was a child, and another cousin of Percy and Thalia. He had a shoulder wound from Faramir's attack, and they used a potion of some sort to heal him. After that, various explanations were made and apologies were given, and I learned that the children are apparently world-travelers."

Arwen had been listening patiently to his explanation, but at this she sits up, questions already on the tip of her tongue.

"I know, I know. I had questions as well, but I didn't have time to ask many of them. We set up camp, and then were attacked by Wainriders, and monsters from the childrens world, along with some wargs and orcs."

Arwen's eyes go wide, and he pauses to press a kiss to her cheek, before laying her hand on his chest. "Peace, love. I am well and unharmed. See, my heart still beats for you.

But the attack was unexpected, and we did not have much warning. We lost a few soldiers. The monsters could not be killed by any of them. Only the children could seem to fight them. And it was a fight like nothing I have ever experienced. I know not what world they come from, but it must truly be one of gods, because they weilded powers the likes of which are only equaled by the Valar. Thalia weilded lighting, commanding the sky, Percy weilded water, shaking the earth, and Nico, the dead. I wondered if they were the Valar themselves, come down to save us.

And when the children finished with their foes, Percy lept in to assist us, while Nico and Thalia ran after the last of the fleeing monsters. We assumed the battle was over, when one of the monsters, a flying women that they called a harpy, emerged from the woods. She flew straight at me, a dagger held in her hand."

Arwen clenched his hand, and he mumured reassurances before continuing.

"Percy lept in its path, saving my life, caring not for his own. The dagger was a Morgul blade, and pierced him deeply."

Arwen stopped him again. "How is that possible? I thought they were all destroyed with the destruction of Mordor."

"I am not sure. As you well know, many orcs and goblins escaped the destruction. I assume some of them made off with the daggers and other thing's of Sauron's creation.

But the boy was injured, exchanging my life for his own. I admit, he was impressive with how he fought off the magic, and how long he managed to stay conscious. He had many close calls, and I felt I owed him a debt of gratitude, so I set out with Eomer, Faramir, and his cousins, leaving the group behind, to try and get here quicker.

We got here sometime in the middle of the night yesterday. I worked on him the whole time, and managed to get the shard out just in time. He lives, though if he remains that way depends on him."

"He sounds strong my love. I believe he will live. But, there is something I have been meaning to talk to you about. If you would prefer we talk about it later, after you are certain the boy is alright, that would be fine as well."

Aragorn lays back down, pulling her with him. "Arwen, dear, I will always wish to hear what you have to say." She smiles.

"Well, before you interrupted me, I was talking about the rebuilding efforts. I know, I know," she laughed, seeing him pout, "but it's important. The royal quarters do truly need to be cleaned."

Aragorn frowns. "My love, why? If the third level isn't rebuilt, why would we pull manpower away from it. We have all the room we need for the two of us, and all the nobles are properly housed in their estates or guest rooms."

Arwen smiles, kissing him, before pulling back slightly and taking ahold of the hand that isn't entangled in hers. "Because there will be three of us in a few months." As she says this, she lays his hand on her stomach.

*slides forward this chapter as an offering*

Hi.

So, I'm sorry it's been so long, but shit has gown down since the last chapter. I still have no writing schedule whatsoever so don't wait around for another chapter. I swear to god I will finish this story, but it may take fucking forever.

Also, shout out to Children of the Valar hitting 50,000 views! That's absolutely insane.

Real life has been kicking my ass, so that's fun. Guess who's chronically ill now!

Also, once again, I'm getting tired of saying this, DONT LIKE DONT READ. I take back me saying I wanted constructive criticism, I don't, cause some of y'all don't know what the fuck that means. In the words of a fucking rabbit who apparently knows better than some of you, if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all.

I'm sorry if some people hate the pregnancy trope, but canonically Aragorn's son is born in the first year of the Fourth Age, and I have been trying to stick close to canon, as ridiculous as that seems. I don't love it either, but I'll try my best at it.

See you hopefully soon,

Fallen-Angel out!