Author's Notes: The poem introducing this chapter is another of my stabs at Japanese poetry, a tanka called 'Whispering Leaves'. Please do not use it without my permission.

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Hope

by Lily Frost

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I hear his voice here

speaking so softly beneath

bare trees I recall

the whispering so softly

of his voice and rustling leaves.

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Chapter III

"We will stop here." Elladan announced, bringing his horse to a stop. It was the second night of traveling for himself, Elrohir, Gilraen and Aragorn, and they were bone-weary after riding all day except Aragorn. The child enjoyed the sights, and though he exhausted himself with speaking and watching the terrain pass around him, the motion of the horse soothed him into deep sleeps and he rested deeply at his mother's breast.

"Awake, we are at the camp sweet-pea." Gilraen said, waking Aragorn gently. "We will eat and then you can go back to sleep."

Elladan went to tie and brush down their horses while Elrohir went about setting up a campfire and preparing their evening meal. Gilraen washed Aragorn's face and hands, much to his annoyance, and then helped Elrohir. They all worked quickly and quietly, speaking very little, even once they had a small fire merrily crackling and were warming their hands with mugs of tea. Aragorn was satiated, watching the fire with drooping eyes from the comfort of his mama's lap.

"Elrohir, let me see your leg." Elladan suddenly demanded.

"Why... oh, certainly." He showed his brother the gash and Elladan was well-pleased that it was not poisoned and was healing well already.

"It does not trouble you?"

"Not at all."

"Good."

There was a pause. "You are too protective of me."

"With good reason." Elladan said, defensively. "You hide your hurts until they are worse. I do not mind that you are not indestructible."

"You have done the same many times."

"Ah, but you are worse about it." Elladan smiled, as they fell into familiar banter.

"Name an incident."

"There have been many... what about when we went looking for Naneth when the orcs took her?"

Elrohir's tone was colder. "We had no choice but to keep moving then."

"When the orcs took..." Gilraen understood the Sindarin easily, but had some trouble pronouncing it. "your mother?"

Elladan and Elrohir shared a look; certainly she would have to know where Celebrian was if she were staying in Rivendell. It was common knowledge among the elves, but telling strangers what had happened always made them feel... awkward, as if they were seeking sympathy.

"She was captured by them, but we retrieved her." Elladan said, simply.

"Ah, I would like to meet her, I think."

"She has sailed to the undying lands, as many other elves have."

"Oh."

"They tortured her and our father could mend her body, but not her mind. She was... broken, then." Elrohir said, sick of telling the same story.

"I am sorr--"

"Do not be. Please, do not be sorry for us. It was a long time ago. She will be healed when follow her to the undying lands."

There was another long pause, this one more awkward than ever before.

"I think I understand a little more." Gilraen said. "Why you hunt the orcs. My mother said it was strange, how you hunted them. You need... vengeance?"

"Yes. Vengence for her and for all the friends we have lost to orcs, Arathorn included. Destroying them has become our life..."

"That is very admirable. I wish I could do that... but Aragorn..." Gilraen broke off, looking to her sleeping son, affection shinning in her deep blue eyes.

"Do not wish it." Elrohir reached around the fire and put a hand on her shoulder, "Child-rearing is just as honourable a way to remember him as hunting down orcs, and it is more important. "

“I suppose.” She gazed at Aragorn, lovingly, but sadly.

“You will love it in Rivendell.” Elladan said, “It is a wonderful sort of place... we have archery ranges, stables, an enormous library...”

“There are always interesting guests visiting,” Elrohir added, “and wonderful parties in the Hall of Fire.”

“We will find you a nice room, with a soft bed.”

“You will meet our sister, Arwen, and Glorfindel, Lindir... our ada.”

“Lord Elrond.” Gilraen said, “I have wanted to meet him.”

“He’s really not as interesting as any tales you have heard about him say.”

“In fact, his lectures are positively mind-numbing.”

Gilraen laughed, sound the twins had not heard yet, and it warmed them to hear it, though it was a brief sound. “As any parent’s lectures are.”

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A short while later, Elladan announced that he was going to sleep.

“I shall take the first watch then.” Elrohir said, “When shall I wake you?”

“Halfway through the night.”

“I do not mind taking a watch.” Gilraen said.

“You do not have to...”

“I fear sleep will not take me quickly tonight; it has not yet any of these past nights, and you could both use a couple extra hours.”

“We are elves, we do not ne--” Elladan started to say.

“Thank you.” Elrohir, who’d always been a heavy sleeper, declared happily. “You can have first, Elladan second, and I will take the last.”

With the twins asleep, and Aragorn dozing in her arms, Gilraen was left alone to her thoughts. She cried a little, but not for long, and then was left to her own thoughts in the dark. Just for a moment she closed her eyes, and she could hear Arathorn speaking to her; telling her that she did well in bringing Aragorn to Elrond, swearing to watch over them, and pledging his love to them, again and again.

But when Gilraen opened her eyes again, only the dark forest around her was there. The restless wind stirred up leaves deep in the woods, and there was a soft hoot of a night owl, but nothing else besides; and so despair welled up inside of her, and she felt silly for her wishful thinking.

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