5 / 6 / 18 ~ And in which Eleanor remembers her brother's name.

Disclaimer: "The Lord of the Rings" is the property of J. R. R. Tolkien. I only claim ownership over Eleanor Dace, Rávamë (aka "Tink"), and the subsequent plot of their story.

A/N: Christ alive, it's been a while. Since last year technically... *gulp* Why is it the second we start getting to my favourite bits of the story, life swoops in and steals every scrap of my free time? Meh, I'm back here now either way, and I hope you guys can forgive me once again for a stupidly long wait.

Honestly you've all been so patient and encouraging with me it's still mind blowing, and I can't tell you have much that has meant to be recently. I won't take up space in this chapter explaining in detail, but to anyone who remembers the post I made on tumblr a few months ago about that new job — well, lets just say my instincts were right after all.

Might do another tumblr post at some point explaining what's been going on for whoever's interested, but in the mean time, let's get on with the real reason you're reading this page! The bloody story! :)

Part II : Chapter 15

- A Long Walk Off A Short Cliff -

"I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?" ― Ernest Hemingway

When the lights came back on, I was sure I was dead.

I mean, the speed at which I'd hit the water alone should had been enough to knock me out cold. And even if by some miracle I hadn't landed on my head and died instantly, the water should have surely got me. I'd only need to have been under long enough for one lung-full, and it was certainly bright enough around me to inspire the stereotypical light at the end of the tunnel. But the blurred brightness around me wasn't at the end of a tunnel exactly…

It was everywhere, and colourful, and I didn't feel particularly dead.

In fact, I felt… happy? Excited, almost. Like I was exactly where I wanted to be, and looking forward to something special. Something fun.

'What the…?'

I couldn't unscramble my half-numb mind to work out what was happening to me. At least not before the blurred colours all around started to slowly sharpen into focus like the lens on a camera. It was like watching a film opening, the world gradually coming into crisp and sharp focus, only I was watching it through my eyes instead of a screen.

My eyes, and every other sense I had, too.

I could suddenly smell dry grass and sea-spray, feel summer sunlight on the skin of my arms and face, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that I hadn't been looking at a light at the end of a tunnel at all. I was looking up at a midday sky as clear and bright as coloured glass — the polar opposite from the darkened one I'd seen only moments before as I fell from the cliff.

What was this? Some hallucination as I lay unconscious and dying at the bottom of the river?

But instincts rising up inside me said otherwise.

'It's a memory.'

A full-sensory, full panorama, come-along-for-a-the-ride memory, with HD surround sound, clearer than anything I'd come close to before. And I'd only had to fall headfirst off a cliff into a cold river to get it — good to know.

My heart was suddenly thundering like a war drum in my chest, and I couldn't tell if it was me, or my dreaming self, or both that the feelings were originating fro—

"Feeling whimsical, sister mine?"

My war drum heart just about stopped.

That voice.

Slowly, my gaze drifted on instinct from the sky down to where the voice had come from, and I came face to face with a smirk I'd only seen in flashes of painfully cloudy memories. Only in dim echos of a long forgotten life.

He was right there, barely an arm's reach away, grinning at me over one shoulder where he rode astride a chestnut horse, curly brown hair falling into laughing green eyes.

'Var… my brother…'

The thought came as easy as breathing, and the smile that spread over my face even more so — though it didn't do the sudden storm of emotions within me justice. I wanted to cry, to scream, to reach out across the gap between our mounts and fling my arms around him, despite barely knowing who he was past a name and a surge of painful recognition.

But when I tried, my limbs wouldn't move.

Instead I felt my shoulders just roll in a shrug, the smile on my face turning vulpine as sudden claustrophobia built inside me.

With a flash of panic, I realised that I wasn't in control of my own body. I tried telling my fingers to twitch, my toes to wiggle, but I might as well have been trying to push over a brick wall. I was trapped inside a body I wasn't in command of, but despite the unnerving sensation, I still didn't exactly feel unsafe. If anything — when I managed to push past the instinctive fear clawing inside me — I felt oddly calm. It felt as if I was being gently walked through the steps of a dance I'd once known by heart, and was only rediscovering as I repeated each of the movements.

It took a moment, but with a conscious effort, I stopped trying to force my present-day will into my memory's body. Instead I just watched, rapt in wonder at the scene, emotions, and echoes of old thoughts unfolding around me.

We were both on horseback, Var and me. I hadn't even noticed we were trotting over wild grasslands until I felt my body shift to keep my balance. I somehow knew without thinking about it that we'd have normally have taken the cobbled road to wherever it was we were headed. If we had though, I also knew we'd have been spotted, recognised, and drawn attention to in seconds — which in turn would have completely defeated the point of sneaking away from our own birthday celebration back at the palace.

I felt myself grin wider at my brother, nudging my grey stallion to speed up, overtaking his chestnut mare.

"Merely giving you a sporting head start, brother mine."

He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"A head start, huh? Are we racing?"

"Always!" I kicked my horse into an abrupt gallop and took off ahead, shouting over my shoulder. "Last one there has to sweet-talk Ma!"

Behind me, Var swore up a rainbow and kicked his own horse into a sprint, but it was too late. I was already leaning low over my horse's back, my steed and I tearing down the hill at breakneck speed over grass and wildflowers, straight towards—

'A cliff?!'

Present-Day-Me tried and failed to scream as Memory-Me left it to literally the last second to jerk hard on the reins, just in time to bring our horse to a whinnying, snorting stop right at the edge of the cliff. Seriously, half a second later and I was sure we'd have sailed straight over the edge into—

The smell of saltwater and sea breeze hit met, twice as strong as before. And as the adrenaline in my blood died away, I looked up I finally saw the view before me — what my memory-self had been rushing so recklessly towards. A deep turquoise sea sprawled beneath a cloudless sky. A horizon that stretched for miles, the sound of waves crashing against rocks, and the feel of cool air and warm sun on my face. And just for a moment, one little heartbeat, I completely forgot I was in a memory.

It all felt so wonderfully, painfully real, I wanted to reach out and catch it. Lock it away inside me, so I couldn't ever lose it again.

I hardly noticed I'd dismounted and tethered my thoroughly displeased horse to a nearby post — one that looked suspiciously like it had been put there specifically for that purpose. Only when my brother and his own horse came to much safer stop behind us did I recall this was but a memory.

"Aaand I beat you again," I grinned, turning from the view to look up at him. He made a disgusted noise at me, but smiled.

"Only because I didn't wish to go in with all my clothes and my horse. You on the other hand never seem to concern yourself with potential death by recklessness."

"Bravery comes in many forms, brother mine."

"Bravery? Or just insanity?"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive."

He just laughed at me, sliding off his mare and tying her to the post alongside my stallion. While Memory-Me waited impatiently for him to be done, Present-Day-Me took a moment to truly look at him — take in every detail of this person I knew so well, and yet didn't at all.

He must have been in his mid-twenties, and where I knew from my fragmented memories he'd once been lanky and awkward as a teenager, he now stood almost a head taller than I. While he wasn't anything close to burly, he was built with the kind of whipcord muscle that came from long hours training with a light blade — and endlessly attempting to beat his lighter, faster sister in races. At a glance, you might not immediately guess we were as closely related as siblings, let alone fraternal twins. The only true features we shared that were completely identical were our ears, the points peeking out from under our hair, just like our father's. And our eyes, green as a summer field, just like our mother's.

And not a hint of gold in sight, I noticed.

"How long do you think we have?" I heard myself ask, as Var fondly patted his horse's neck.

"Maybe an hour. Two if we're lucky," he answered. I nodded, glancing back towards the cliff.

"Then we best make the most of it."

And without further ado, I turned away, and began unbuckling the slender belt holding my dress closed, and pulling loose the side ties.

Ok, for the record, it's a surreal enough feeling to be living a memory inside a body you don't really have any control over. It's an entirely different thing when said body starts pulling off its own clothing in a business-like fashion. I was too shocked to even try stopping myself, let alone immediately notice that Var had started doing the same. He was busy pulling off his boots just a few feet away, completely unfazed, as if it was his best friend changing a few feet away, instead of the sister he'd shared a nursery with until the age of five.

"You know you didn't have to do this for me, right?" I said, sounding utterly unconcerned for my own modesty as I pulled the dress over my head, leaving me in my breast-band and a pair of breeches I'd secretly been wearing beneath.

"Do what?" Var asked, taking a minute to wiggle his freed toes in the grass. I clicked my tongue at him, and hopped on one foot to start pulling off my dancing shoes.

"You know what. Spring me from a formal gathering under the noses of over fifty of Ma's stuffy guests."

Var shrugged, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"Didn't I? I was under the impression it was either this," he gestured to the scenery around us, "or I resort to my usual tactic of 'suitor diversion.'"

I snorted, raising a brow at him. "Like you don't enjoy said brand of 'suitor diversion.'"

He made a mock-offended face, a hand going to his chest.

"Hey! It is a noble sacrifice for the honour of my beloved sister! Always. Valar's truth."

"Of course it is," I scowled playfully, throwing my discarded dress over his face. "My darling twin, self-sacrificing seducer and heartbreaker of every unsuitable lad to dare turn their lecherous gazes upon me."

He pulled the mass of fabric from his head to reveal a sly grin.

"Do I detect a hint of judgement?"

"Only for assuming I can't manage the heartbreaking bit myself," I answered, a little too quickly to be truly honest. Var's expression didn't change, but it softened, and I knew without him saying a word that he understood.

Even when neither of us said a word, he always understood. He always had.

"I think we both know you're far too kind-natured for that, Éla," he said gentle smile that broke into a wide, wicked grin. "Beneath all the poisonous spines, of course."

I threw one of my dancing shoes at him.

"Get over that damned cliff, before I kill you."

He just laughed again, loud and genuine, and finished pulling off the rest of his non-essential clothing. A minute later we were both standing in only our calf-length breeches (and breast-band for me) peering over the edge of the cliff I'd nearly charged my horse over. It was a fair way down into gorgeous, clear turquoise water, and though shielded from the worst surf by a series reefs, it was still rough enough to give all but the most practiced of swimmers pause.

"A bit rough for low tide," I noted idly.

"Having second thoughts?" Var teased. "Should I retrieve your gown and dancing shoes?"

"Please," I snorted, taking a few steps back. And without further pause I lunged forward, taking a running jump straight over the edge of the cliff with a loud yell of challenge. Curling my legs up into a tight ball, I plummeted down towards the sea, the rush of wind and adrenaline enough to send my heart flying. I hit the water with an almighty splash, plunging down several feet below the waves, before orienting myself and kicking easily back up with a few easy strokes.

Var was laughing when I broke the surface, and I looked up to see him grinning down at me.

"Are you coming down here? Or do you plan to sit up there cackling until an unsuspecting sheep farmer finds you?!" I called up. He threw me a hand gesture that a prince really shouldn't have used in the presents of a lady and followed my lead, taking a lunge straight over the edge with a shout.

He hit the water barely a few feet from me, giving me a face-full of seawater in the process. My laugh died quickly however, when he didn't immediately resurface. Looking around, I tried and failed to see where he'd come up among the waves.

"Var?"

Nothing.

Seconds ticked by and he still didn't resurface. Panic turned my blood cold, and I spun frantically in the water, searching for any sign of him at all.

"Var! Vardamir!"

Something suddenly grabbed hold of my both ankles under the water, and yanked me sharply downward. I shrieked, flailing, and instinctively tried to kick away whatever was dragging me beneath the waves and—

And then my idiot brother released my legs and broke the surface right in front of me, his curly brown hair plastered to his grinning face. He was all but pissing himself laughing, but his laugh and smile died when he saw the expression on my face.

"Éla?" he asked, voice gone instantly worried, coming close enough to see if I was ok. "I was only teasing, I'm sor—"

I spat a jet of seawater directly into his face. He yelped through a surprised laugh and tried to splash me back, but I was already swimming away, cackling gleefully.

"You make it too easy!"

"You'll pay for that, treacherous wench!" he promised, coming after me.

"I'm not sure the Queen would approve of hearing the Princess addressed as such, my prince," a new voice called soundly from above. Var and I looked up in unison to find its owner peering straight down at us from above.

Abrazîr, the Captain of the Royal Guard — the name came to me so easily, and with it a familiar little rush of pleasant warmth and a flutter in my stomach that I couldn't quite ignore.

Well that was interesting…

He was a tall human man with dark wavy hair and deep bronze skin, standing at the top of the cliff looking down at us. He was also flanked by two other guardsmen not much older than Var and I, but all looking far more dignified in their dark blue and gold uniform, weapons at their belts. Abrazîr was trying valiantly to hide the amused smirk, but the other two men just looked scandalised down at the half-dressed royal siblings treading water in the sea below.

So much for us having an hour without being found. They must have followed our tracks. That was Abrazîr's forte after all.

"I doubt there is much about this scene that she would approve of, Az!" Var called up jovially, turning a grin that would have looked at home on a fox at the other guards. "Care to join us, good sirs? The water is quite refreshing."

One of the younger lads actually turned a bit pink around the ears, but Abrazîr just chuckled, gaze flickering and lingering momentarily on me.

"I'm sure that would not be at all proper, my prince," he called down with a wide, white smile against his sun-rich skin.

And something about that smile, that laugh — it too was achingly familiar.

Var snorted. "Since when have you worried so much about propriety, Az?"

Abrazîr shook his head, chuckling as he turned away out of sight. Then, not three seconds later, he appeared once again — only this time sans a shirt and boots. The other guards got barely a second's warning before their captain flew head-first past them over the cliff with a wild shout, plummeting straight down into the water with us, laughing the entire time.

The dream dissipated and I woke to cold, darkness, pain, and the taste of blood and dirty water in my mouth.

For a second my dazed brain almost didn't realise I was still under water, and I almost inhaled a lungful of river water. Then reality smacked straight into me, and I was instantly awake, every one of my senses pulling as much information in as they possibly could. I was underwater, still in the river, and being pulled steadily downstream. The currents were strong, but not enough to make kicking myself to the surface impossible once I'd figured out which way was up despite the blackness all around.

It was dark when I broke the surface, gasping in breath after breath. I could barely see a thing past the water in my eyes, and it was a couple of seconds before my brain had enough oxygen to think past the burning in my lungs.

Where the hell had that memory come from?

How long had I been under?

How the hell had I even survived the fall?

Question after question bombarded me until I managed to shove them down, telling myself I'd deal with them later. I was still in a bloody river in near-pitch darkness after all, and Aragorn was—

Realisation punched me in the gut.

Aragorn.

'Shite!' I swore internally, not enough air in my body to curse aloud. I spun in the water, trying uselessly to see the surface of the water around me and keep my head above the rapids. 'Tink! Where's Aragorn?!'

I barely felt Tink's awareness rustle softly against my own, her voice sluggish deep inside my head.

'Don't know… he hit the water with the warg… thirty seconds ago.'

I'd never heard her so tinny and weak before, and it scared me a bit.

'Did you catch where he fell?'

'Your left… eight feet back…' she answered, before falling silent into what I could only assume was her equivalent of exhausted sleep.

I spun in the water, not unlike I'd just done in my lucid dream. We were already well out of range of the torches and fighting, and I couldn't see anything through the dark. Not even the stars.

"Dammit!" I just about sobbed. He had to be here somewhere, but if I couldn't see him then—

Just then, as if some higher power had decided to throw me a bone, some of the clouds parted ever so slightly, allowing a beam of milky moonlight to fall over the river.

I spotted him almost instantly, a dark shape on the surface of the water not ten feet away. He was clinging weakly to the tangled remains of the warg's body, using it as a make-shift flotation device. I couldn't tell if he was even conscious, but from his slackening grip and the leather armour I knew he had on, it wouldn't matter in a moment.

"Aragorn!" I screamed through the agony in my throat and chest, trying to get his attention.

He didn't respond. He just lost his grip on the warg's body and slipped soundlessly beneath the rapids as the moon vanished behind the clouds again.

"No, no, no damn you!"

I threw myself back under the water before my fear could hold me back, kicking myself hard through the currents. I'd always been a decent swimmer as a human, but I couldn't remember ever being quite this strong. I propelled myself through the river fast, holding the spot where Aragorn had sunk in my mind for all it was worth, both hands outstretched and praying they'd find their mark.

My left hand latched around a warm wrist with a weak pulse two seconds later, and I pulled as hard as I could just as moonlight spilled down from above once again. Aragorn's unconscious face appeared in my sight under the water, his dark hair floating up around his head and his eyes closed.

Swearing up a silent storm while holding my breath, I pulled one of the small throwing blades out of my sleeve; neither of us had time for me to worry about buckles now. Tearing his over-tunic aside, I sliced the leather straps holding his thin but heavy leather cuirass closed, and yanked it free. Only once the damned thing was off him did I make the attempt to try and drag him to the surface, slipping one of his arms over my shoulder, and kicking furiously off the river floor toward my only source of light.

I'm still not sure how in hell I managed it without Tink's help. Aragorn wasn't exactly a small man, nor light with all the muscle he carried on that stoic frame. We nearly sank twice when the rapids got stronger, and I was sure that if I took my eyes off the blurred shape of the moon for even a second I'd lose the will to keep my weakening legs kicking.

But still, I did it.

My lungs were burning when we finally broke the surface, my legs and arms screaming for mercy. I choked in loud lungfuls of air, but not a peep came from the human ranger in my arms. I didn't even try and call his name, I already knew he couldn't answer.

Blind panic was the only thing that got me to the rocky edge of the riverbank, dragging a limp Aragorn after me by his armpits, my body pleading with me to just stop, to rest, to give up and let fate take him to whatever end it desired.

I told my body and fate to go fuck themselves.

My clothes and limbs were heavy as I heaved and dragged him out of the water and onto the bank, setting him on his back and dropping quickly to my knees beside him. An ear to his mouth and nose immediately told me he wasn't breathing, and two fingers pressed into his neck said his pulse was barely there.

"Come on, you stoic idiot. This is so not the time for a tragic bloody hero's death," I muttered, balling my hands into fists over each other. I placed them against his solar plexus and used the entire weight of my body to start pushing down in short, hard compressions.

A side-note for all you romance fans: anyone who ever tried to make CPR sound anything like a dramatic opportunity for accidental kissing has clearly never tried it before. Rescue breathing isn't anything close to romantic, or anything like kissing. It's difficult, and messy, and seriously hard work. Especially when the person you're trying to save is twice your size and weight. I was struggling enough to catch my own breath after the swim, so the task of trying to force air into Aragorn's uncooperative lungs was tiring me out far too quickly.

I wouldn't be able to keep this going for long. If he didn't start breathing soon — I couldn't let myself think about it.

"Don't you dare do this to me now, you Dunedain bastard! Wake!" A compression. "The!" Another compression. "Fuck!" A third compression. "Up!"

He still didn't move, so I kept trying. Thirty more compressions, and another breath. Thirty compressions. Another breath. Over and over.

Still nothing.

My arms began to tremble.

"Come on, breathe damn you!" I was crying now, the cold river water dripping from my hair mixing with warm tears of panic.

Nothing.

I screamed.

"Aragorn! Aragorn, wake up! Please!" I abandoned the compressions in favour of simply slamming my aching fist on his chest, as if I was trying to beat him into the ground for abandoning me here.

He woke up.

Grey eyes flew open so fast, I shrieked and fell back as he rolled onto his side, coughing up half the river's worth of water. The shriek turned into a laugh as I damn near sobbed with joy.

"Oh, thank you! Christ, thank you!"

Aragorn just sputtered and heaved for a couple of seconds, more river water coming up before he could even look at me. He looked pained and dazed, but also strangely exasperated despite the near-death experience.

"E-Eleanor…" he choked out between ragged gulps of air. "Y-you… the warg… could have… killed y-yourself… idiot…"

The relief that flooded me was better than Gimli's Erebor Goldwine, and the look on Aragorn's face suddenly struck me as hilariously funny. So I laughed. I laughed hard through tears of relief until my whole body ached and my chest burned, falling back on the stony shore beside him, my arms and legs splayed.

"Yeah, I'm an idiot. An idiot who just saved your life, you crazy bastard," I tittered, wheezing through my own abused lungs. "Now we're even."

There was a pause while Aragorn choked down more air, and I just let my exhausted body go entirely limp.

"Twice," he groaned eventually, still coughing, though his breathing began to steady. "I… saved your life… twice. You owe me one more."

"Fine," I snorted, too tired to argue. "I'll buy you a drink sometime, make it up to you."

He grunted softly in reply, then went still and silent, and for a second I felt alarmed that he'd stopped breathing again. When I rolled my head to the side to see, his chest rose and fell in a steady cadence, but his eyes had fallen shut into a dead sleep.

I sighed, long and hard.

He'd be ok now. He'd had enough air and sense to talk smack at me, but I'd have put gold on the fact that his body had forced his mind to shut down to give itself time to recover. It made me realise just how much exhaustion he must have been hiding under the stoicism and cool pokerface before we'd left Edoras, let alone ended up in the river.

For a moment I felt bad for not asking after him more often.

Then again, I had just saved his life.

"Stubborn, self-sacrificing git," I muttered through a knackered smile, letting my own eyes fall shut, and a deep, dreamless sleep finally take me under.

A/N: Less of a cliffy this time… but only because the last time there was an actual cliff involved! XD

Anyway, the good news, lovelies, is that half of the next chapter is already done. But I'll level with you, my IRL work state is pretty unpredictable at the moment. I'm not really having a good time of things, but I'll do my best to get it out quicker than last time. However, when push comes to shove, I'd rather you guy have a longer wait than a sub-par update. Hope you y'all understand, and don't get too cross with me for that. .

Side Note: I'm kinda stunned to find that Compos Mentis is now listed as #8 for number of Reviews under the LoTR's "OC" filter, and even as high as #1 if you sort by Follows! What is even happening?! Thank you so much guys! That's all on you! :D

As always though, and eternally grateful for your ongoing support, much love,

Rella xx

Edit: Just realised I did put the "Thank You" section in the A/N! Whoops! Next chapter I'll add the two together. Sorry about that!

wickedgreene — Yeah, nurse I am clearly not. XD Safe to say I won't be bringing anyone back from the edge of death myself any time soon! Cheers for the pointer about the CPR!