Chapter Eleven

Elladan shook his head, tracing his finger along the parchment before him. "No, Elrohir, I don't believe that is our best route." He and Elrohir were looking over a map, planning out the route for their next patrol when they heard a young voice behind them.

"There you are!"

The twins turned around as Aragorn bounded into the room and skidded to a halt at their sides.

"Yes, here we are, little one," Elrohir said with a smile, glancing down at the energetic five-year-old. "Were you looking for us?"

Aragorn nodded his head enthusiastically. "You need to come see my sister!"

A chuckle escaped Elladan as he heard the reason Aragorn had been seeking them. The child was enamored with his new sister, and had been dragging every member of the household into their rooms to see her. Elladan was only surprised that it had taken so long for Aragorn to accost them. Lothrin had been born nearly a week ago, and this was the first time Aragorn had asked them.

"Is your sister awake?" Elrohir asked with a raised eyebrow. "I remember your mother at dinner two nights ago reminding you not to bring others to see her when she was trying to sleep."

"She's awake. I checked," Aragorn said. He reached up and grabbed each of the twins by a hand. "Come on. You haven't seen her yet." Leaning backward, he tugged on their hands, urging them to come with him.

Giving in with a chuckle, Elladan and Elrohir allowed the child to lead them from the room. As they were being pulled down the hallway, they encountered Eradan. He watched them approach with a smile. "And where might the three of you be going? As if I did not already know."

"We're going to see Lothrin," Aragorn said, looking up at his 'big brother' with a grin. "You can come too."

"Oh, I can? Why, thank you, young sir." He bowed slightly to Aragorn, making the child giggle at the gentle teasing. Eradan fell into step beside Elladan as they made their way to the rooms occupied by Arathorn and his family. "Has Gilraen approved this visit?" Eradan asked Elladan softly as they walked. He knew that she was not overly fond of the twins.

"I believe she has given up on trying to prevent Aragorn from showing off his new sister to every living being he encounters," Elladan responded just as softly with a look of amusement on his face.

Returning the smile, Eradan only nodded. He had seen Aragorn's excitement over his sister and had been on the receiving end of that excitement more than once. When they reached Gilraen and Arathorn's room, Eradan knocked gently on the doorway.

Looking up at the sound, Gilraen could only smile in defeat as her son led the three others into the room to see Lothrin. She simply looked at Aragorn as he and the others approached her. "More visitors, my son?"

Sitting on the edge of her chair, Aragorn reached out a hand toward the baby on his mother's lap. "Elladan and Elrohir haven't gotten to see her, yet," he explained as his sister latched on to his finger. He smiled down at the infant, then looked up at the elven twins. "Come see," he encouraged, waving them forward.

Glancing at Gilraen, Elrohir took a hesitant step forward and knelt down on the floor to peer into the blankets wrapped around Lothrin. A smile crept across his face as he saw the baby's eyes wide open and focused on him as he came into her field of view. After another quick glance at Gilraen for permission, Elrohir reached forward and lightly touched the baby's other hand. She quickly grasped his finger, and he grinned at the unexpected strength displayed in her grip. "She is quite strong," Elrohir said, looking up to share the moment with his twin.

Gilraen studied the grin on Elrohir's face. He did not now resemble the fierce, frightening warrior she had thought him to be. Perhaps she had been wrong in her judgment of the twin sons of Elrond. "Would you like to hold her?" she asked softly.

Quickly looking up at Gilraen, Elrohir was not sure how to answer. "It has been many years since I have held one so small," he said hesitantly.

"It is not a skill you forget," Eradan said from his position near the doorway. "You will do fine." He leaned back against the wall and nodded in encouragement to the elf.

Seeing the smile on Aragorn's face, Elrohir relented, and Gilraen carefully transferred her daughter to the elf's arms. Elrohir easily shifted the child to a position where her head was supported and she was cradled securely against his chest.

"See?" Eradan said lightly. "It is as I said." A gentle smile crossed his face as he watched Elrohir and Lothrin.

Stepping closer to his brother, Elrohir invited Elladan to see Lothrin as well. Reaching out to touch the small hand that was waving gently back and forth, Elladan smiled as she automatically grabbed onto his finger. "You are right," he said softly. "She is strong for one so small." A soft smile touched his lips as he studied her face. She had the dark hair of the Dúnedain, though her eyes were more blue than grey. Whether that would change as she grew older, only time would tell. "She is lovely," he said, looking over at Gilraen. "She has your beauty, my lady."

"She reminds me much of another infant we once held like this," Elrohir said softly, "so long ago, now." His voice was distant, remembering another time when things were simpler, before darkness had touched their lives.

Eradan saw where this conversation might be heading, and gestured for Aragorn to join him.

"Yes, Eradan?" the child asked as he slowly approached, looking back at the two elves and his little sister, obviously reluctant to leave.

Eradan placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "I believe some tea and cookies would be appreciated. Would you go to the kitchens and request that some be brought to your mother's room?"

A wide grin spread out across Aragorn's face as he turned his attention away from the others. "Of course, Eradan!" As the child darted out of the room, an amused smile curved Eradan's lips. Aragorn loved visiting the kitchens, and would likely stay there until the tray of tea and cookies was ready to be delivered. The cooks enjoyed having the child visit and spoiled him when he was down there, hence Aragorn's enjoyment of the kitchens.

"Of whom do you speak?" Gilraen asked Elrohir and Elladan as they gazed down at her daughter with near-besotted looks upon their faces.

It was Elrohir who answered her, not taking his gaze from the child in his arms. "Our sister, Arwen. It has been many centuries since she was this small, but I still remember the first time I held her like this. She had my heart firmly in her keeping from the first glance." He glanced up and looked sideways at Elladan. "I believe that is true for the both of us, and she knew it quite well as she grew up. She had her ways of getting whatever it was she wished from us."

A chuckle escaped Elladan as he thought back to some of Arwen's childhood exploits. "And somehow, no matter what she came up with, if anything went wrong, it was the two of us who ended up getting chastised for it." He gave the others an innocent expression, as if he had not had anything to do with the trouble that came of those exploits.

Elrohir shot him a wry look. "Perhaps that is because she was but a child and we were full grown at the time? I'm sure Adar expected us to know better."

Giving a shrug, Elladan allowed his point. "True, but who could refuse her when she gazed at them with those eyes of hers? I would swear she could put people under her spell."

Laughing, Elrohir shook his head. "No, we simply did not have the willpower to resist her pleas."

Gilraen watched the by-play between the brothers in great amusement. Though she had seen them teasing and laughing with Eradan over the past few years, she had never seen them quite this open and easy with each other. It seemed merely the mention of this sister returned them to a more carefree time. "Why have I never heard mention of this sister before?" she asked. "Where is she?" As soon as she saw their expressions sober, she regretted her questions. Perhaps there was a reason she had never met this sister, and her questions were bringing up painful memories. "Please, you do not have to answer me," she said to forestall their response. "I did not mean to pry."

Elrohir shook his head as he sat down in a chair with Lothrin still held comfortably in his arms. "No, you were not prying. It was a natural question. Arwen is with our grandparents in Lothlórien. Many years have passed since she resided within these walls for more than short visits."

Seeing that the elves appeared willing to talk about this, Gilraen watched them both. "Why is that?" she asked softly, sensing that she was treading on painful ground.

A sigh escaped Elladan as he chose a seat near his brother. "After our mother's departure across the sea, Arwen was not…comfortable here. It was decided that visiting our grandparents would be best for her. She would find the comfort and healing there that was not possible for her here."

At Gilraen's questioning look, Elrohir elaborated a bit more on his brother's comment. "Things were very difficult for all those of Imladris after our mother sailed. Adar was nearly lost in his grief for a long while, and in our own way, so were we. We were so intent on destroying all those who had hurt our mother, and those of their kind, that we were in no position to offer comfort. In our pain and rage, we had no comfort to give." He sighed slightly as he looked down to the infant in his arms as she wiggled in his arms and waved her hands as if in an effort to lighten his spirit. It was impossible not to smile back at her. "It has been long since those days, but Lothlórien has become her home as much as Imladris. We visit her there and she visits here, but for now, she still chooses to reside with the Lady Galadriel."

Honored that the elves seemed willing to speak of their sister and past difficulties, Gilraen continued the conversation, but directed it toward lighter matters. "Would you tell me more of this sister of yours?" She was rewarded by the soft smiles that crossed the faces of both Elladan and Elrohir.

Inclining his head toward her, Elrohir acknowledged her curiosity and searched his memories as to what to tell Gilraen. "She is our junior by a mere century, and she was the most beautiful child any of us had ever laid eyes upon." A brotherly pride rang clear in his voice as he sought to describe her. "Her beauty only increased as she grew. She is called 'Undomiel', or the Evenstar of our people. It has been said that she is the very likeness of Luthien herself." He grinned down at the infant in his arms and remarked softly to her, "And you are quite the beauty yourself, little one." Her eyes closed in contentment as she turned her face toward the warmth of his body.

"There is much more to Arwen than her beauty." Elladan frowned at his brother. "Do not give the lady Gilraen the impression that a sister of ours is nothing more than a beautiful shell with nothing inside!"

"I would not dare do such a thing," Elrohir retorted, his head snapping up to glare at his twin. "I merely searched for a place to start, and that is the first thing many remark upon." He turned back to Gilraen as he reached down to offer Lothrin his finger to grasp in apology for startling her with his sudden movement. "Please do not take that impression from my words. Arwen would never let me forget it if I allowed anyone to think that of her." A worried expression crossed his face at the thought.

"She has quite the devious mind," Elladan jumped back into the conversation with a grin. "It would be quite amusing to see what she chose to do to Elrohir in retaliation."

"I imagine she learned that deviousness from her older brothers," Eradan said lightly. "It must have been quite interesting growing up with the two of you. You forget, I have heard tales of your childhood from the others here." His smirk and raised eyebrow made it clear what sort of tales he had heard.

"Lies, all lies," Elrohir replied with an airy wave of his hand. "We were the very image of perfection as children." He gazed at Eradan with an air of innocence.

Eradan had to laugh. "That, I find very difficult to believe."

"Why ever would you not believe me?" Elrohir asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced at the young ranger before winking down at the child he held.

A roll of the eyes was Eradan's only response, and he gestured toward them. "You were speaking of your sister, I believe?"

"Ah, yes," Elladan said, before Elrohir could completely sidetrack the conversation. "As we were saying, Arwen has a keen intellect. It was to our detriment when she chose to turn that mind toward retaliation for some… imagined offense."

Eradan grinned a little. While he knew that the twins had doted on Arwen as she grew, she had told him many stories of their lives, and the many instances when she had been less than pleased with her older brothers. "Would you care to share any stories of those instances?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Narrowing his eyes at the young human, Elladan worked to find a story that would not show he and Elrohir in too bad a light. Finding one, he nodded to Eradan, then launched into a tale that soon had all of them laughing.

"Why have I never heard tell of your sister?" Gilraen asked as she caught her breath. It seemed odd to her that with the love and affection they had for their sister, she had never heard mention of her before. A guilty thought crept through her mind that she had hardly ever held more than a brief conversation with either Elladan or Elrohir, and as such, not shown any interest in finding out more about them.

An odd look crossed Elrohir's face as he stared down at Lothrin. Glancing aside at his brother, he spoke slowly. "Our Adar has asked that we do not tell Aragorn of our sister, though I know not the reason for this ban."

Gilraen's brow furrowed as she thought about what possible reason the Lord of Imladris might have for asking such a thing of his sons.

"It is likely that Aragorn would simply never leave you alone once he found out that you also had a little sister," Eradan spoke up, seeking to turn their minds from this particular path. "You have seen how enthusiastic he is about his own sister. I am sure he would start pestering you to have Arwen return so he could meet her. I do not think he fully grasps the concept that little sisters eventually grow up, so he might be expecting another child, like his own sister. Do not fear. We will not mention her to Aragorn in order to spare you his…excitement." The knowing smile on Eradan's face lightened the moment and turned their minds away from the puzzle of Elrond's motivations.

Looking over at Elrohir making faces at Lothrin, Elladan stood and approached his brother. "I think you have monopolized enough of this little one's time. I believe it is my turn to hold her." Speaking of Arwen's childhood had aroused a sense of nostalgia in Elladan, memories of a time when their lives were simpler, more peaceful. For the moment, all he wished to do for the afternoon was return to that peaceful time and play with this little one, and Aragorn, when he returned.

Elrohir glanced at his brother, seeing the determination in his expression, and with a great deal of reluctance, handed the baby over. Elladan gently cradled the child and returned to his own seat, lightly tracing his fingers along her arms as she did her best to grab at those fingers.

Watching the twins with her daughter, Gilraen was amazed anew at the tenderness she saw in them. For the first time, she saw more than the warriors she knew them to be. They had shown how much they loved their family as they spoke of their sister, and she saw how gentle they were with her daughter. From this day forward, she would have no objections to these two remarkable elves being a part of her children's lives.

It was only a few moments later when Aragorn returned with one of the elves from the kitchen. Gilraen nodded to acknowledge the elven woman, and could not help but grin to herself as the woman broke into a broad smile at seeing Elladan cooing over the infant in his arms. The elleth smiled at Gilraen and settled the tray of tea and cookies on a nearby table before leaving the room.

"Nana, may I have a cookie?" Aragorn asked, gazing longingly at the tray.

"You may have one cookie," Gilraen said firmly. "I believe it is quite likely you have had several cookies as you waited in the kitchens."

He gave her a sheepish grin that confirmed her guess, and reached for the one allotted cookie, then headed over to sit on the arm of Elladan's chair so that he could see his sister. "Would you like a cookie?" he asked Elladan as he approached him. "I could get you one."

Giving the child an indulgent smile, Elladan shook his head. "Not at the moment, thank you."

Lothrin only managed to stay awake for another few minutes, and soon drifted off to sleep in Elladan's arms. He held her for awhile more before Gilraen claimed the child and laid her down in her cradle. She shooed the others out of the room so that they would not wake Lothrin, and watched in amusement as Aragorn led them all down the hall to his playroom. He would be quite happy to have their undivided attention for as long as they could give it.

The thought occurred to her that her children would be quite lucky indeed, growing up with three such loving and attentive 'big brothers'.

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As the years progressed and the children grew, Gilraen was quite glad that she had agreed to allow the twin sons of Elrond to have a place of prominence in the lives of her children. Arathorn and Eradan were often gone for months at a time, and while the twins did accompany them on some patrols, they were in Imladris more than the rangers were. Under their care, Aragorn thrived, knowing that they would always make time for him, and he could go to them for anything. And they, like Aragorn and Eradan, doted on Lothrin as a little sister, allowing her to grow up, safe and secure in the knowledge that she was loved and none would ever harm her in the haven of Imladris. Her daughter grew to become a bright, inquisitive child radiating joy and innocence, bringing smiles and laughter to all that came into contact with her.

All too soon for Gilraen, Aragorn began training with the twins and Glorfindel on how to fight and how to handle weapons. It was painful for her to see her little boy wielding his practice sword and learning how to shoot a bow, but she knew it was necessary. The skills that he learned here would save his life when he left this protected valley. So Gilraen watched his lessons and told him how proud she was when he hit the target for the first time, or learned a new maneuver with his sword. And she was proud, as he showed a great skill from a very early age. She only wished they lived in a time of peace, so that her son's life would not one day depend on how well he was able to fight.

Lothrin adored her brother, and followed him around everywhere, even to the training fields when she could. Gilraen made sure that she kept far back from those on the field, however, and learned to sit still as she watched. Though she did not like the idea, she felt that Lothrin would one day ask to be trained as Aragorn was. Arathorn, she was sure, would approve of the idea, knowing that the life of a woman of the Dúnedain was not an easy one. His father's heart would rest easier, knowing that she would be able to protect herself, even as he hated the necessity.

Gilraen knew that Arathorn regretted all the time he had to spend on patrol, away from his family, but it was his duty, something she had known when she married him. Still, her heart was in her throat every time she watched he and Eradan ride off on patrol, wondering if that would be the last time she saw either of them alive.

Just after Aragorn's tenth birthday, Gilraen heard hurried hoof beats and anxious voices as she rested in the gardens. When she heard the voice of Elladan, sounding worried, she rose and nearly ran toward the front of the house. Elladan and Elrohir had joined Arathorn and Eradan on patrol only a few days earlier. They were not due to return for another four months. If they were here now, that could only mean trouble. As she rounded the corner, she saw Elladan lifting a limp form down from Elrohir's horse. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw the bloodied clothing of a ranger. It was only as Elladan turned to carry him toward the healing wing that Gilraen saw the man's face. A rush of relief swept through her as she realized that it was not Arathorn, but a mere second later, she recognized Eradan, and her breath caught. She rushed to follow Elladan, but Elrohir caught her arm as she entered the house.

"What happened?" she asked the younger twin, searching his face for signs of what had transpired. A corner of her mind noted the dirt and faint scratches across one cheek and the disheveled appearance of his hair and clothing. "Is he…?" She could not finish the thought, and looked around for any others that had ridden out from Imladris with these three.

"He's alive," Elrohir assured her, glancing worriedly after Elladan and Eradan. He saw the fear in her face as she looked around, obviously wondering where her husband was. "Arathorn is well," he hastened to say, before he explained further. "There was a battle with a great number of orcs. Your husband sustained only a few small scratches, and there were a few other minor injuries among the rangers. Eradan, however, was injured more seriously. Knowing that he needed more attention than could be provided out in the wild, Arathorn sent us to bring him to our adar."

"How seriously was he injured?" Gilraen asked worriedly. Elrohir hesitated as he looked back toward the healing wing. Her voice hardened abruptly and she straightened her back, standing tall and stiff. "Tell me, Elrohir. We are the closest he has to family. I need to know what to expect."

Closing his eyes briefly before focusing back on her face, Elrohir nodded. "Very well. Eradan has become a fierce warrior, and at first it seemed that no orc could get near him without being cut down. His skill made him a target for the orcs, and they swarmed him so that not even he could fight them all off. I did not see what happened, as the orcs had also swarmed Elladan and me. When we finally fought our way through our enemies, we saw a cluster of orcs surrounding a body on the ground." The memory of seeing Eradan being beaten and kicked swept through his mind. The ranger had been limp and unmoving, making no move to defend himself, and Elrohir had not known if Eradan was even still alive until he and Elladan had killed all of the orcs surrounding the man.

Elrohir stopped for a moment and worked to control his emotions before continuing, deciding to simply list Eradan's injuries. "He has taken a blow to the head and has spent much of the time since the battle unconscious. Several ribs are broken, though he was lucky that the ribs were not driven inward. There are more bruises covering his body than can be counted, and likely many inside that are hidden from our eyes. But the most worrisome injury is to his leg. He was felled by a deep blow to his upper leg. The blade struck bone, and laid open half the length of his leg. It was impossible to thoroughly clean it, so we packed it with healing herbs, wrapped it, and rode home as quickly as we could." A sigh escaped Elrohir as he shook his head. "I fear infection has set in. It is our hope that Adar can treat the infection. If he cannot, Eradan could lose his leg…or his life." The last few words were whispered, Elrohir apparently not wanting to think that the infection could kill the young man.

Gilraen had worked to keep her face impassive through Elrohir's recitation of the battle and listing of Eradan's injuries, but she could not stop the gasp that escaped at his last words. Her hand flew to cover her mouth in her shock. She did not want to consider the possibility that Eradan would die. She dearly hoped he would survive, but something else Elrohir had said caught her attention. "Lose his leg?" her voice shook. Though she had known rangers in the past that had survived such injuries, she could not bear the thought of Eradan being forced to go through the rest of his life with only one leg. "He is too young," she whispered. "He would be unable to patrol, or to fight to protect his people. It will kill him."

Elrohir placed a hand on her shoulder supportively. "We have hopes that with Adar's help, he will be able to keep his leg and will be able to heal."

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Gilraen lowered her hand, squared her shoulders, then nodded to Elrohir. "May I see him?"

With a nod, Elrohir directed her down the hallway. "Adar is likely treating his injuries, but you may be allowed to see him for a moment." Leaving her outside in the hall, Elrohir entered the room to speak with Elrond. He returned in a few minutes, gesturing for Gilraen to enter. Leading her to a place near Eradan's bed, he asked her to go no closer. They were still in the process of treating Eradan's injuries, and they did not want anyone getting in the way.

Nodding her understanding, Gilraen let her eyes roam over Eradan's still form. Most of his clothing had been removed so that his injuries could be treated, and Gilraen's eyes widened as she took in the damage that had been inflicted upon him. Most of the skin that she saw was black and blue, and even his face was horribly bruised. Though she was unsure she wanted to see the full extent of his injuries, she forced her gaze downward to where Lord Elrond was working steadily on cleaning out the infected wound on Eradan's leg. She was able to suppress the gasp that wanted to escape as she gazed at the jagged wound extending down from just below Eradan's right hip nearly to his knee. Elrohir had told her it was bad, but she had had no idea how bad it truly was. If they were forced to take Eradan's leg, he would lose everything from the hip down. She was sure such an action would destroy Eradan. Noting that her hands were clenched into fists, she took a long breath to calm herself. Looking up at Lord Elrond, she found him watching her. "Can you heal him?" she asked softly.

"It is too soon to tell," the elf lord answered, his eyes compassionate as he held her gaze. "But I believe so."

"I will leave you to it, then," she replied. "He could be in no better hands." She nodded to Elrond, then turned to leave the room, stopping in the hallway to gather the shreds of her calm mien before striding off to find her children. They would soon hear of Eradan's return and his injuries, and she must keep them from rushing to the healing ward and getting in the way of the healers.

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Elrond watched Gilraen leave the room, then turned his attention back to Eradan's leg. A sidelong glance showed that Elrohir was still standing near the foot of the bed. "You should have a healer look at your arm, my son."

Elrohir started as he looked back at his father. His mind had obviously been focused on the man on the bed. "My arm?" He glanced automatically down at his right arm, before looking back at his father with a guilty expression.

Raising his head to gaze at his son, Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Your brother informed me that you were cut with an orc blade. Elladan is having his wounds seen to, so please humor me and do the same. I will inform you of Eradan's condition when I am finished."

Releasing a sigh, Elrohir raised his hands in surrender, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the bandage under his clothing. "Very well, Adar. I will do as you have asked. I will be back as soon as I am done, however." His steps were slow and reluctant as he moved toward the doorway.

A nod was Elrond's only response as he turned his attention back to treating the wound. He knew how close his sons had grown to the young man under his care, and would not deny them the chance to be at his side, after their own wounds were tended. Elrond would not allow himself to think how fond he had also become of the man over the years. As a healer, he needed to keep his distance while treating his patients. It took some time to clean the wound, excise the infected tissue, and wrap Eradan's leg. The injury would not be stitched until he was sure the infection was gone. Elrond only hoped he could eradicate the infection. The injury had occurred over a day ago, and a fever was already raging in the young man's body. Directing one of the other healers to make a tea to bring down the fever and fight infection, he leaned over the man, placing a hand on his brow. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on directing some of his strength into the man, working to bolster Eradan's flagging strength and help his body fight the battle raging within.

As the healing connection formed between them, Elrond frowned. What he found in the man's mind confused him. Though he was unable to read actual thoughts, he could pick up on sensations, impressions of the man, and what he found was not what he had expected. The pain had, of course been expected, but not the sense of familiarity that had flowed through Eradan as Elrond touched his mind. In the eight years that he had known Eradan, Elrond had never had to use the healing trance with him, so Eradan should not have had such an experience before. Yet a sense of relief and familiarity had surged through the man and he had relaxed back into the comfort and ease that Elrond offered as if he had been through this many times before. Going deeper into the man's mind in order to try and resolve the unexpected behavior, Elrond encountered a sense of age and experience that did not make sense, given the man's relatively young age of twenty-eight. It seemed to him in that moment, that he was in touch with a man of a least a century in age. Eradan moaned softly and turned his head away from Elrond's hand, as the mental touch prodded him toward wakefulness. Pulling his hand away, Elrond pushed the mystery aside and stared down at the man as Eradan's eyes opened a slit, glancing around him.

Watching the man's glazed eyes dart around the room without focusing on any one thing, Elrond realized that he was unaware of his surroundings, likely seeing something that only existed in his mind.

"Eradan?" he asked softly, trying to direct the man's attention to him. "I need you to look at me for a moment." He watched Eradan's face closely, studying the way his eyes roamed the room for awhile longer before they slowly drifted toward him to focus somewhat blearily on his face.

"Ada?" Eradan's voice was a hoarse whisper. "Where…?" he seemed unable to form a complete question as his voice trailed off and his eyes once again roamed the room.

Elrond sighed as he watched the confusion flicker across Eradan's face. It seemed he was truly lost in a world of his own, looking for the father he had lost eight years ago. Glancing up as one of the other healers handed him a cup of tea for Eradan, Elrond nodded his thanks. "Eradan, I am going to help you sit up for a moment, and I need you to drink this tea. It will help you recover from your injuries and fight the fever. Do you understand me?"

Glazed eyes drifted back toward Elrond's face, and Eradan nodded slightly. "Yes," he whispered again. His gaze flicked toward the cup, and he made a face. "Nasty teas."

Unable to suppress the surprised smile that broke across his face, Elrond shook his head slightly. "That might be so, but I need you to drink it all. It will help."

"Yes, Ada," Eradan replied. Elrond could not help but note that he sounded a good deal younger than normal, his responses seeming as something a child would say. Careful not to allow the frown over Eradan's confused state to cross his face, Elrond gently helped the ranger into a sitting position. Holding the cup to Eradan's lips, he watched carefully as the young man finished the tea quickly, then turned his head away with a grimace. "Nasty," he said. "Hurts."

Studying Eradan's face, Elrond noted the pallor of his skin, and the faint sheen of sweat that covered his skin. Moving to sit upright had aggravated his injuries, causing the man a great deal of pain that showed clearly in his expression and the short, nearly panting breaths. Handing the cup to another, Elrond gently lowered the man to lie fully back in the bed. Placing a hand on the man's brow, he nudged him back toward sleep. Rest and allowing the teas and healing herbs to work was the best thing for him now. Once the ranger was asleep again, Elrond cleaned up his work area and sat back to watch Eradan sleep. All they could do at the moment was wait.
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It was several hours before the injured ranger woke again. By that time, Gilraen, Elladan and Elrohir had all returned, wanting to be there when he next woke. They had all expressed concern when Elrond had told them of Eradan's confusion, though both of his sons had confirmed that during Eradan's few periods of wakefulness he had been confused and disoriented.

When Eradan turned his head and moaned softly in his sleep, Elladan came back inside from the balcony, and they all gathered near. That was the first sound he had made since falling asleep earlier. Elrond took a seat near the head of Eradan's bed. Reaching out, he felt the still fevered brow, and the young man turned toward his hand. "Eradan?" Elrond asked softly. "Can you hear me?"

A low moan was his answer as Eradan seemed to struggle toward awareness. It was several long moments before glazed eyes opened once more and a confused look crossed Eradan's face. "Ada?" he asked softly. His eyes roamed the room randomly as before, but stopped and widened when they found Gilraen. "Naneth?" he asked, staring hard at her face. "You're alive?" Confusion suffused his face as he stared at her, then tears formed in his eyes. "I miss you," he said quietly. "You don't know how much I've missed you. Why did you have to leave me?"

Tears fell from Gilraen's eyes as she heard the plaintive tone in his voice. She looked helplessly back up at Elrond, and he nodded to her. Reaching out, she took one of Eradan's hands in her own. "Hush now. I'm here. I haven't left you. All is well."

His hand tightened on hers and he seemed to be struggling to sit up, before falling back to the bed with a gasp of pain. Looking back to Elrond, the timbre of his voice shifted to seem that of a child. "Ada, it hurts. Make it stop!" Tears fell freely down his cheeks as he held tight to Gilraen's hand. "I promise I won't do it again. Just make it stop hurting."

Elrond gestured for Elrohir to prepare a tea to help with the young man's pain, then turned back to keep him talking in an attempt to distract him from his pain. "You promise you won't do what again?" He reached out to stroke the flushed face, trying to impart some of his own calm to the man.

"I won't follow Elladan into the tree again. I know you told me not to follow them, Ada. I thought I could do it, but I fell. I promise I'll be good and do as you say, but please make it stop." The ranger was begging Elrond to take away his pain, lost in his mind, and apparently thinking he was still a child. His memories were obviously confused, however, as he had not met Elladan until he was a grown man of twenty.

"I will do everything I can to help you," Elrond promised. He looked up as Elrohir approached with a cup of the healing tea. "If I help you to sit up, I need you to drink some more tea. It will help ease your pain. Will you do this for me?"

Eradan nodded, and Elladan and Elrond helped ease him into a sitting position while Elrohir aided the man in drinking the tea. The movement obviously took a lot out of him, as he was shaking and pale by the time he was lowered back to his bed. They remained with him for awhile longer, enduring more bouts of tears and delirious ramblings before the man mercifully drifted off to sleep again, worn down by his illness and injuries.

Gilraen sighed and ran a shaky hand back through her hair. Looking up, she caught Elrond's eye. "He did not know us, my lord."

"No, he did not," Elrond agreed. Laying a hand on the man's forehead, Elrond shook his head as he felt the heat emanating from Eradan. "Between his fever and the head injuries, he is not aware of his surroundings. His memories are confused between past and present."

"Will he recover from this?" Gilraen asked, clasping her hands in her lap and twisting the material of her skirt. A glance down at Eradan showed how hard she found it to see him in this condition.

"Once his fever breaks and he heals from his head injuries, I fully expect him to return to the young man we have always known," Elrond said reassuringly. He would not mention his fear that the head injury could possibly have caused permanent damage. Time would tell how quickly the man recovered from his myriad injuries. "It will be some time before he wakes again. Perhaps you would prefer to join your children?"

"Yes, I believe I shall." Gilraen stood and smoothed out her skirt before walking slowly from the room. She looked briefly back at the ranger with a worried expression before striding down the hallway.

Looking toward his sons, Elrond asked a question for which he already knew the answer. "When you were bringing him home, you said his thoughts were confused as they are now?"

Nodding soberly, Elladan replied. "Yes. At times he seemed to know who we were, but he drifted between past and present then as well, referring to events that never happened." Hearing his father repeat questions worried Elladan. "Do you truly think he will recover his mind, or were you only attempting to placate Gilraen?"

Brushing a lock of hair away from the sleeping man's face, Elrond hesitated a long moment before replying. "I have hope that he will recover completely, but only time will prove me right or wrong. All we may do now is wait and treat his injuries as best we can." Standing slowly, he glanced at his sons, standing at the foot of Eradan's bed. "You will stay with him for a time?"

Studying his father, Elladan nodded, seeing the concern so close to the surface of his emotions. "Yes, we will keep him company and call you if he wakes again. Take some rest, Adar. We will take care of Eradan." Moving forward, he placed a hand on his father's shoulder to encourage him.

"Thank you," Elrond said gratefully, placing a hand over Elladan's. "He is in good hands with you both." With a nod at them, he strode out of the room to find something to eat.

Elladan and Elrohir sat with Eradan for several hours before Elrond returned and relieved them of the duty of watching over the injured ranger. Elladan could not stay away long, and returned after a couple of hours. Elrohir returned only an hour later. The three watched over Eradan, changing bandages and poultices as needed, in an attempt to combat the infection in his leg, and gave him teas to fight the fever and infection when he was awake. When Eradan's fever finally broke in the middle of the night, they all breathed a sigh of relief. Once assuring himself that the man was sleeping peacefully, Elrond ordered the twins to their own beds for the remainder of the night. After a short time, he sought his own bed, with orders that he be awoken if Eradan's condition changed, or if he woke.

All three returned to the healing room in the early hours of the morning, and were pleased to see that Eradan's color was better and there was no sign that the fever had returned. They were assured that he had slept the night through, and had not woken. As the healer who had watched over him made his report, a faint sound emanated from the sleeping man, and they all turned toward his bed.

Taking a seat near Eradan's bed, Elrond reached forward and laid his hand on the man's brow. "Eradan?" he asked softly.

With a soft moan, Eradan turned his head toward Elrond's voice. It was a long moment before he opened his eyes, blinking owlishly at the light in the room. Elrond was encouraged to see that his eyes were clear, not glazed over as they had been earlier. His hopes sank at the man's first words, however.

As Eradan focused his gaze on Elrond, he seemed confused. "Ada? What happened?" His gaze roamed the room, resting briefly on Elladan and Elrohir before coming back to rest on Elrond as he waited for an answer to his question.

"What do you remember, Eradan?" Elrond asked softly. He would not answer until he found out where the man's mind was.

At the question, the man gave Elrond a blank look, as if he did not know his own name, and Elrond grew quite concerned as the silence dragged on. After a long moment, memory flashed deep within the man's eyes. Letting out a long exhale, Eradan brought a shaky hand up to rub over his face, as if clearing the fog from his mind. "Forgive me, my lord," he murmured. "It seems my mind is slow to awake this morn." He winced slightly from the pain caused by moving his arm. Glancing down at his body and gingerly testing his range of movement, he groaned softly before glancing back up at the others. "I vaguely remember a battle, but very little after that. Can you tell me what happened?" His gaze flew to the twins, "Arathorn!" He tried to sit up, but Elrond's hand on his shoulder prevented the motion. However, the very act of attempting to rise had awakened the pain in his ribs, and he sank back against the bed, panting slightly from the pain.

"Arathorn is well," Elladan hastened to reassure the man, stepping closer and laying a hand on his arm. "You sustained the worst injuries, so Arathorn had us return here with you. Your injuries needed the aid of our adar."

Resting his head back against his pillow with his eyes closed, Eradan released a sigh of relief. "I am glad to hear that he is well." Opening his eyes, he glanced over at Elrond. "How soon may I return to them? I do not like the idea of resting here while my chieftain is on patrol."

Giving his patient a firm look, Elrond shook his head. "You will not be returning to patrol any time soon, young man. Your injuries need time to heal." Deciding that the man was aware enough, and that his mind was no longer affected by the concussion, he proceeded to inform him of the numerous hurts he had sustained in battle. Eradan's face paled as he heard Elrond describe the wound to his leg. As a healer in training, he was well aware of the possible consequences of such an injury.

"How serious is the infection?" he asked warily, holding Elrond's gaze. "Will you be able to save my leg?" There was a tremor in his voice that he was unable to fully suppress, and he clamped his lips shut after asking the question.

Elrond raised a hand in reassurance. "For the moment, the infection is under control. I have hope that we can eradicate it, but you need to understand that there was serious damage to the muscles in your leg. I do believe now that we will not have to take your leg, but it will be some time before you will be healed enough to leave this place. Your leg will be much slower to heal than other injuries you have sustained."

Eradan exhaled slowly, his expression serious. "As long as I do not lose my leg, I can be patient and allow it to heal." His voice held a note of relief mixed in with his worry.

"Good," Elrond said, studying the man's face. Seeing that he understood all that he had been told, Elrond nodded in satisfaction. Apparently, his initial fears that Eradan's mind might have been permanently damaged were unfounded. "I will arrange for a tray to be brought to you. It has been some time since you last had a meal, I believe." Standing, Elrond made his way out of the room to arrange for a light meal to be brought in.

As the elf lord left the room, Eradan turned his gaze back to Elladan and Elrohir. "Since I seem to have so little memory of the battle and its aftermath, perhaps you could help fill in the gaps?"

With a brief exchange of glances between the brothers, Elrohir began telling the tale of the battle. He described the orcs surrounding Eradan and the twins, of he and Elladan fighting free and finding the man on the ground, surrounded by a circle of enraged orcs. Elladan picked up the tale, telling how the last of the orcs had been slain, and that it had quickly become clear that Eradan's injuries needed more care than could be given in the wild with their limited supplies. Arathorn had ordered them to take the injured man back to Imladris with all haste, knowing that Elrond was likely the only chance they had of saving Eradan's leg. Elrohir chimed in then, speaking of the journey home, bringing him to Elrond, and then the long hours tending him through the fever and delirium.

Once their tale was finished, Eradan glanced back and forth between them. "I thank you. It would seem that once again, I owe my life to you." He placed his hand over his heart and inclined his head toward them.

"There is no need for thanks," Elrohir said, leaning forward in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees. "You have become as a brother to us, and there is no debt owed among brothers." He noticed a look of both confusion and awe on the face of the man in the bed. "It seems we have never said those words before, but if that is the case, they are long overdue. You are a brother to us, Eradan, and our lives would be greatly diminished were we to lose you."

A gleam in Eradan's eyes hinted at the tears that had filled them at Elrohir's words. "Thank you," he said again, his voice husky. "That is how I consider the both of you, but I could not say the words, not knowing if they were welcome. You honor me with your friendship, my brothers."

Before any of them could say anything more, Elrond returned with a tray of broth, bread and a glass of milk. Elladan and Elrohir helped the man into a sitting position, placing pillows behind his back to support him, aware of the pain his broken ribs would be causing him. Nodding his thanks, Eradan began to slowly eat the food he had been given, knowing that it would not be wise to eat as quickly as he might wish. It had been some time since he had last eaten, and his stomach would not take kindly to a hurried meal. When he had eaten his fill, he asked to stay in a sitting position as he was in no hurry to go back to sleep.

Elrohir excused himself and returned shortly with Gilraen, Aragorn and Lothrin in tow. "You have some visitors," he said with a smile as Lothrin rushed towards Eradan's bed, followed more slowly by Aragorn. "They have been quite anxious to see you upon learning that you were home."

Gilraen stopped Lothrin from trying to climb into Eradan's lap to give him a hug, mindful of his injuries. "Careful, my love," she cautioned the four year old. "Eradan is hurt, you need to be careful of him."

Seeing the stubborn tilt of Lothrin's chin, Eradan knew she was determined to make her way over to him. Reaching out with a hand, he stroked her dark hair back from her face. "Your mother is correct, little one. As much as I would love to hold you, I fear I must wait a while until I am feeling better."

"But you will get better?" Aragorn asked abruptly before his sister could say anything. He had hung back a little, studying the man in the bed rather than rushing forward as his little sister had done.

Eradan turned his head to meet Aragorn's eyes. "Yes, Aragorn. I will get better. Lord Elrond tells me that I will be here for quite awhile as I recover. So you will be stuck with me for a time. What do you think of that?" Eradan's voice was calm as he worked to soothe Aragorn's fears.

Aragorn's eyes roamed over Eradan as if the ten year old were trying to catalogue the injuries that might be hidden by the man's clothes, then turned his worried gaze back to meet Eradan's. "You won't be much fun if you're stuck in here," Aragorn said cheekily, trying to hide his fear for the man he thought of as an older brother.

"Aragorn!" Gilraen scolded as Eradan chuckled. Her face flushed slightly at her son's manners.

Waving a hand to reassure Gilraen that he was not offended, Eradan grinned at Aragorn. "I do not plan to remain in this bed any longer than necessary," he offered. "We will have time to spend together, even on the archery and sparring fields. But until the time that the Lord Elrond sees fit to release me from these rooms, perhaps you could bring some books or your studies here and keep me company?"

With a nod, Aragorn agreed, stepping closer to the bed now that he was more comfortable with Eradan. Lothrin decided that it was time that someone paid attention to her and spoke up. "And you can play with me, too!"

"It would be my honor to play with you as well, little flower," Eradan said playfully, and Lothrin rewarded him with a broad smile.

They remained for a time, visiting with Eradan and reassuring themselves that he would be well. When Gilraen started noticing lines of pain around his eyes and mouth, she stood and shooed the children from the room, assuring them that they could return later to play with Eradan. Once they had left, Elrohir crossed to the herb cabinet and began pulling out the necessary ingredients for a willow-bark tea to help ease Eradan's pain. After drinking the tea, Eradan allowed the twins to help him lie back in bed, and he was asleep in minutes, being worn out by his visitors and the pain.

Eradan was confined to his bed for the next few days, and if he were honest with himself, he would admit that he did not feel up to making an attempt to leave. Even sitting upright was not something he could accomplish on his own without excruciating pain from his ribs. The surface cuts and scrapes began to heal, but the broken bones were still very painful, and would take some time to heal. Elrond finally declared that the infection had been eradicated, and stitched up the wound in Eradan's leg.

Though he could not yet walk on his own, after days of being cooped up in the healing room, Eradan was anxious to escape the interior of the house. After pleading with Elrond, he was finally given permission for a brief trip to the balcony to enjoy the warm spring sun. Elladan and Elrohir helped him out to the balcony with his arms draped over their shoulders, as he could not put any weight on his injured leg, and eased him down to sit on a bench. They placed a pillow behind his back, another one under his outstretched leg, and gave him a blanket to cover up with to chase off any chill in the air. The loose robe he was dressed in was warm enough for the interior of the house, but might not be enough in a cool breeze.

Closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against a wall behind the bench, Eradan let the sun's warmth wash over him. The trip to the balcony had been more painful than he had expected, and the short trip had tired him, but he would not let anyone see just how much, or he might not be allowed out again. When he felt he would be able to speak without revealing how much his leg and ribs hurt, he opened his eyes and looked back at the twins. "Thank you. You do not know what it means to me to escape outdoors for even a short time."

"You are quite welcome," Elladan said, studying the pallor of the man's face. Though he tried to hide it, it was quite obvious the move had caused him pain. "Would you like me to bring you a cup of tea?"

Eradan sighed. "Yes, please." He should have known better than to try to hide his pain from them. They knew him far too well for that.

Inclining his head, Elladan retreated into the house, leaving Elrohir on the balcony to keep Eradan company. Since Eradan was not in the mood to speak, he gazed out over the railing and took a deep breath of the fresh air. The sun did feel wonderful on his face, he had to admit. It was worth the pain to get out of his bed for awhile. There was a chill to the air, as it was only mid-March, and Eradan draped the blanket around himself. But no mere chill would chase him away from the balcony so soon. He gazed out over the valley, seeing signs that spring would soon be here, though no green grass or fresh blossoms had appeared as yet.

When Elladan returned to the balcony, a familiar figure trailed behind him. "Eradan, you have a visitor," the elf said with a smile, handing the tea to the reclining ranger.

"Mithrandir!" Eradan exclaimed in surprise upon seeing the figure following Elladan. "I did not know you were here. When did you arrive?" He sat up straighter and smiled at his old friend.

"Only this morning," the wizard replied, crossing the balcony to lean back against the railing near the wounded ranger, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling his gaze on the man. "I have been visiting with Elrond, and he told me you were here. He explained what happened. How are you doing?"

"I have been better," Eradan answered honestly. "But I am doing well enough." He looked over at the twins. "Do you mind if I speak with Mithrandir alone? It has been some time since we have spoken."

"Of course not," Elrohir replied easily. "We will leave you two alone to visit." He gave Eradan a stern look. "If you start feeling poorly, do not hesitate to inform Mithrandir and he can summon us." He stared down at the man, knowing how reluctant he usually was to admit to pain.

"I will inform Mithrandir if I need help," Eradan promised. As he saw Elladan stare pointedly at the tea he had yet to drink, he raised the cup to his lips and took a long drink.

With a nod of satisfaction, Elladan turned to leave, followed by Elrohir. Mithrandir moved to take a seat on a bench near Eradan, waiting long enough for the elves to move out of earshot before speaking.

"So, how are you truly doing, Aragorn?" The wizard gave him a long, scrutinizing look.

Aragorn sighed, holding Mithrandir's gaze and dropping the guise of Eradan. "It has been difficult," he admitted. "When I woke, I did not remember that I was supposed to be someone else. I am afraid I reacted as myself and not Eradan. I think I had Elrond quite worried when I kept referring to him as 'Ada'." He waved a hand slightly to reassure the wizard when he saw the concern on his face. "Do not worry, Mithrandir. I was suffering from a high fever and a concussion at the time. They attributed my words to delirium. I am only grateful I did not say anything that truly gave me away." He shrugged, then winced at the pull on his ribs and took another sip of his tea. "So, what brings you here?" he asked.

"A group of dwarves have come to me to ask my aid in a certain task," Mithrandir said, gazing at the ranger resting before him. "I had one in mind to help them carry out their task, but then thought of you. Perhaps you would have some advice in this, or would be willing to join in their quest?" He gestured to Aragorn's leg. "Well, that had been only a thought. It is quite obvious now that you will not be healed enough to join their quest."

A jolt of recognition ran through Aragorn. "Of course," he breathed out. "I had nearly forgotten that it was time for that." The Ring was about to be found! His breathing was a little unsteady as he spoke. "If you plan to ask the one you asked in my history, I will tell you that your instincts are correct. I would not have joined the quest even had I been well enough to do so. There will be trials ahead, and things will not all go according to plans, but what ever does? I could not interfere in matters, as I had nothing to do with this in the original history."

Mithrandir nodded, having anticipated such an answer from the man. "I plan to send the dwarves to the home of Bilbo Baggins," he said, watching the man's eyes for a clue as to whether he was making the same choice this time that he had before.

Aragorn inclined his head slightly in acceptance, and Mithrandir settled back into his seat with a sigh of relief. "So, they succeed, then?"

"Do not get complacent, wizard." Aragorn stared at the wizard with a stern look in his eyes, bringing Mithrandir sitting straight up in surprise. "As I said, this journey will not be an easy one. It is full of dangers ahead, none of which I can warn you about. You will need to be on alert if you wish this to succeed. There is no guarantee that things will happen this time as they did before. History has already changed as a result of my actions. My only hope is that by having the same people involved, there is at least a chance that events will repeat. The rangers had no part in this tale, so perhaps the changes I have made will not have an affect."

Feeling chastened, Mithrandir studied the man before him, looking past the youthful exterior and seeing the strong, noble man behind it. "Forgive me," he said, bowing his head toward the man. "I did not intend to seem as if I am taking this journey lightly. I am well aware that it could be perilous. The territory we will be passing through can be quite dangerous."

"That it is," Aragorn said, mollified by the wizard's apology. He sighed and looked down at his hands for a moment before glancing back up at Mithrandir. "And please accept my apology as well. I know you do not take the lives of your companions lightly and will do all you can to protect them on your journey. I simply did not want you to think that it will be an easy task that did not require your full attention." Shaking his head, Aragorn shifted in his seat, hissing as his movement caused the pain in his ribs and leg to flare to life once again.

Leaning forward in concern, Mithrandir laid his hand on Aragorn's leg, below the injury. "Is there aught that I can do to help you?"

With his head bowed and his eyes closed tightly against the pain, Aragorn concentrated on his breathing until the worst of the pain subsided. Relaxing back against his pillow, he exhaled slowly, then looked up to meet the wizard's concerned gaze. "No, I should know better than to attempt such movement yet. I was distracted and forgot my injuries for a moment." Reaching over, he picked up the tea he had yet to finish and downed the rest of the cup in one gulp, not even caring that it had gone cold while he spoke with Mithrandir.

Though the Istar did not have the same healing abilities of Elrond, he could at least help ease the pain of the man before him, and sent some of his power into the injured leg. After a moment, Aragorn relaxed and leaned his head back against the wall. "Do you wish me to call the twins to help you back to your bed?" Mithrandir asked him, seeing the fatigue in the man.

"No," Aragorn said, toying with the edge of the blanket covering his legs. "This is my first time outdoors in days. I do not wish to go back inside just yet."

Leaning back in his own seat, Mithrandir relented. "Very well. What can you tell me about this journey? It obviously ends well if you seek for the events to repeat."

Aragorn closed his eyes, hiding from Mithrandir's keen gaze. During the events of this quest in his history, Bilbo and the dwarves had stirred up the dragon, Smaug, leading to the destruction of Lake Town, and fortunately enough, the death of the dragon. Then the orc armies had attacked, becoming the Battle of the Five Armies, where men, dwarves, elves, eagles, and Beorn fought and defeated the orcs. Many good people had fallen in that battle, including Thorin, Fili and Kili, three of the dwarves soon to set out on this quest, full of hope. But if this journey did not happen exactly as before, then the Ring would not be taken from Gollum's cave, the dragon would still live, and possibly join in the battle at the Black Gates many years hence, and the armies of the orcs would not be so decimated. Knowing all he did, Aragorn could not dare to interfere, even were it to save the lives of so many. "It ends as it must," Aragorn said at last, his voice soft, resolute. Meeting Mithrandir's eyes was difficult for him now, knowing how many would fall in battle.

The Istar's eyes narrowed as he saw the expression on Aragorn's face. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and steeled himself for the answer to his next question. "It does not all end well, then? Who does not return from this task?"

With a wary shake of his head, Aragorn refused to answer the questions directly. "I cannot give you too much information, or you may react to events in a different way and thus change the outcome for the worse. There are events that must happen now, and even if success is achieved, there is a cost. I will say no more than that except for this, you have chosen the correct burglar for this quest. Bilbo will prove himself much more resourceful than any would expect." A smile graced Aragorn's face. "And he will become a great friend to us both."

Mithrandir sat back in his seat, pondering Aragorn's words, puzzling through them for clues. It seemed that Bilbo, at least, would survive this journey, for that was the only way for him to have become a friend of Aragorn's. It did relieve his mind to know that he was not sending the gentle hobbit to his death. But it seemed that others perhaps were not so lucky. Gazing at the determined look on the man's face, he saw that he would get no more answers from him on this topic. Nodding his acceptance of that, he changed the subject. "How long has Elrond declared that you will be confined to Imladris to heal?"

"Several months at least," Aragorn answered tiredly. "The ribs should heal well enough in another month, but there was a lot of damage done to my leg. While there is no longer much fear that I will lose the leg, it will be some time before I am able to actually walk upon it." A sober look came over his face as he stared at the wizard. "As it is, I may never walk without a limp again. How this will affect my ability to fight has yet to be seen." He shook his head. "I returned to this time for my father, Mithrandir. I do not like the idea of not being able to remain at his side on patrol. Arathorn is scheduled to return in late July. I will be here at least until that long. Whether I am permitted to resume patrolling when Arathorn next leaves is up to Elrond."

Reaching out, the wizard laid a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "I am sure that you will be able to rejoin Arathorn on the next patrol. You once told me that you have always recovered from injuries more quickly than expected. You will be well and whole again, I feel sure of this."

"In my own body, this is true," Aragorn said, with a gesture to acknowledge the wizard's reassurance. "I am not entirely sure the same holds true for Eradan. But I do have hope that I will heal more completely than expected. If I am to live out Eradan's life, I do not want to do it with a permanent reminder of this injury." A shadow crossed his face at the reminder that he had no idea if he would ever return to his own life. "Gandalf?" he asked softly, broaching a topic he was sure would lead nowhere. "I have been here eight years now. I have seen changes to history, most notably in the form of Lothrin. I saved my father's life only to lose my entire family. Is there some task that I have to perform before I return, or will I simply remain here until Eradan's death of old age or in battle? Will I even return to my life upon Eradan's death, or is this my life now?" He gestured around himself to indicate Imladris, and the wider world that he now found himself in.

It was the wizard's turn to shake his head and hold back information as he withdrew his hand. "You know that I cannot tell you such things, Aragorn." A wry smile curved his lips. "And it would seem that we are in more similar positions than I had realized. We each know things that we can not tell the other, no matter how strong our friendship. I understand now, what you were trying to tell me. I must set out on this quest as if I have no foreknowledge of what might happen, and react to each situation as it occurs. I fear that is also the only advice I have for you. Live this life, each day as if it were a new day, and do not borrow concerns from the future, whatever it may hold. But Aragorn, you have not lost your family. They are here, alive and well. You have Arathorn and Elrond, you have your mother and the twins. You have not lost them."

"But they do not know me for who I truly am." Aragorn dropped his eyes to stare at his hands. "To them I am a friend and trusted companion, yes, but I am not a son or a brother." His lips quirked upward slightly. "Though Elrohir did call me brother."

"There, you see?" Mithrandir said with a satisfied lilt in his voice. "They may not share the same memories of your childhood that you have, but you have found the same place in their hearts." He sobered and leaned forward seriously. "Have you ever considered telling them who you are? They could help you through times like this, banish the loneliness I have seen in you."

"What would that accomplish?" Aragorn asked with a helpless gesture of his hand. "It is rather an unbelievable story, you have to admit. If I had not known things that Eradan had no way of knowing, you would not have believed me when I told you. No, Gandalf, it would serve no purpose to let them know that Arathorn originally died in that attack when I was two. It would only bring pain to them all. What good can it possibly do for anyone to know that I was raised as a son of Elrond? As you said, they do not share my memories of our times together, the life I lived here. Besides, I still do not know why I am here, or who sent me. Without knowing the reason I am here, it is better that no others are told. The knowledge of my existence in this time could be very dangerous for us all. The only reason I told you was the hope that you would be able to send me home."

Sighing, Aragorn rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I am tired, Mithrandir. So tired of living a life that is not mine, waiting and wondering if I will ever see my wife and child again. What has become of them during my absence? What of my people?" His voice was faint, barely audible as he spoke, and Mithrandir could see the weariness of his body and mind as if it was a visible shroud hanging about him.

Standing, the Istar moved to sit on the edge of bench on which Aragorn reclined. He rested his hands on Aragorn's shoulders, and the man opened his eyes to stare wearily at the wizard. "Do not give in to despair, my friend. Trust that there is some reason for all of this, though we do not understand what that might be. You are tired and hurting now, I know. Once you have healed and regained your strength, things will look better, I promise you. You cannot lose hope, you who were named Estel as a child." Mithrandir knew he would have to leave soon if he were to make it to the Shire before the dwarves, but he did not want to leave Aragorn when he was in this mood.

Closing his eyes again, Aragorn spoke softly, his words nearly slurred in his fatigue. "I'll try. But it's hard, Gandalf, so hard sometimes."

Gandalf closed his eyes and sighed. "I know, my friend. Sleep now. Things will appear better when you next wake." He placed a hand over Aragorn's eyes and gently nudged the man to a peaceful sleep. Standing, he stared down at the sleeping man, then turned to leave in search of the twins.

He crossed the healing room and came across Elrohir in the hallway. "Ah, there you are. Eradan has fallen asleep on the balcony. I believe he is in more pain than he would admit. Perhaps you would care to help me return him to his bed?"

Giving the wizard a look that Gandalf could not decipher, Elrohir merely nodded. Following Gandalf, he took in the man's pale face and air of exhaustion. "He looks worse now than when we brought him out here." Bending down, he gently lifted the man into his arms, being as careful as possible not to jostle his ribs or leg.

"Forgive me, I fear I did not consider how exhausted he was before I began our conversation. His current condition is entirely my fault." Gandalf gathered the pillows and blanket and followed Elrohir into the healing room where the elf gently laid the man down on the bed, straightened his limbs and covered him carefully with the blanket.

Placing a hand on Eradan's head, Elrohir frowned. "He has a slight fever. I fear he should not have been moved so soon. He has not the strength for it yet, no matter what he claimed." Looking up at the wizard, his eyes narrowed. "Would you mind finding my father and informing him that Eradan has taken a turn for the worse?"

"Of course," Mithrandir replied, glancing down at the supine form on the bed. "I will have to leave soon, but I have a message I would like you to deliver to Eradan when he wakes. Please tell him to hold onto hope. He will understand what it means." He gave Elrohir a very pointed look. "Take good care of him." With another look at the sleeping man, the wizard turned and left the room in search of Elrond.

Elrohir watched him leave with a sigh of relief. He had almost been caught eavesdropping, not that he had started out with the intent of listening to Eradan and Mithrandir. On his way out of the room, he decided to pick up the parchment he had been working on earlier, and finish it in another room. Though he had not meant to eavesdrop, his attention had been well and truly caught when he heard Mithrandir refer to Eradan as Aragorn. Thinking the wizard had merely misspoken, he waited for Eradan to laugh and make some comment, but the man's response had thoroughly confused him. Needing to know more, he had crept closer and unobtrusively listened to the entire conversation. It seemed impossible, unbelievable, but the wizard quite clearly believed every word of it, as did Eradan…Aragorn. He shook his head again at the very thought. How could this man before him possibly be the same person as the child currently growing up in Imladris? He had heard the tone of command in Aragorn's voice, and had been impressed that he dared use such a tone with Mithrandir. But the Istar had taken no offense, apologizing instead. Elrohir's heart had gone out to this man who claimed to be a brother of his and Elladan's as he heard the plaintive, dejected tone of voice. If everything he heard were true, this man had spent eight years living the life of another, separated from everyone he loved. When he heard the conversation come to an end, he had quietly stepped out in the hallway so he would not be caught eavesdropping.

Now that Mithrandir had left, he turned his attention back to the man on the bed. "Well, my brother. It would seem you hold many secrets." Gazing intently at the man, he tried to see the features of another lurking beneath the surface, the features of one of the line of kings. This was an interesting turn of events, indeed.