AN: All dialogue in italics is Elvish. All breaks with a title are different stages in Harry's life.

He's Marked You

"Step away from the child," Voldemort demanded.

Lily Potter refused and plopped her son back into his cot, positioning herself between the predator and his prey. "No! Not Harry, please spare him."

"Don't be a fool. Your life was bargained for, you do not have to die. Just give me the boy!" Red eyes - blazing with determination - met emerald eyes with similar determination. "I will not ask again. Step. Away."

"I won't!"

"Avada Kedavra!" The green stream of light flew towards the mother and she crumbled to the carpet, dead. "Foolish woman."

Voldemort stepped closer to the cot and looked down at the crying toddler. "You will not live to be my vanquisher. I will not allow it."

Sniffling, Harry Potter looked at the Dark Wizard and rubbed his eyes. The same emerald eyes as his mother stared at Voldemort, but the man didn't hesitate, "Avada Kedavra!"

The flash of green lit the room as it recoiled, filling the room with a bright, blinding light and an explosion of magical backfire.

Aragorn stopped in his tracks and canted his head at the flash of blinding light. The sounds of the forest around him stilled for a moment before continuing as normal, but something was... off. He motioned to Halbarad and the two men crouched immediately. With more hand gestures, Aragorn moved towards the left as his fellow Dúnadan moved to the right.

The sound came again. A sort of... gurgle. Aragorn crept closer to the oddity and almost cried out in surprise, emitting a hiss in its stead.

The black haired toddler sucked on his finger and giggled when he spotted the Ranger, "Da?"

Aragorn came to a stop, blinked and sat hard on the grass. He looked around, but spotted no other soul around.

The child reached for the man, opening and closing his chubby fists as if desperate to communicate and spoke firmly once again, "Da!"

When the Ranger didn't move, the large emerald eyes teared and the bottom lip trembled. Aragorn panicked and scooped up the child, "No, no, no, no... don't cry."

Halbarad stood over the two and chuckled, his tenor voice resounded in the once quiet clearing, startling the toddler who had been snuggling into Aragorn's shoulder. "The big bad Aragorn, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, Heir of Isildur, brought to his knees by a toddler."

"But the eyes... and then the lip... and the tears..." Aragorn blurted, "Oh, you try and deny this child!"

The young toddler looked up at Halbarad with a big toothless grin, "Moo-y!"

Looking up at Halbarad, Aragorn smirked, "Look who's been demoted to livestock."

The verbal exchange between the men amused the child who clapped and cheered, "Yay!"

Halbarad growled at Aragorn causing the toddler to whimper with a trembling bottom lip. The toddler hid in Aragorn's shirt, "Scawy Moo-y."

"I..." Halbarad looked heavenwards and took a deep breath before crouching down next to Aragorn and patting the toddler's raven locks awkwardly. "I'm sorry." All he got in return was a sniff and wide, teary green eyes. "I... Aragorn, fix this!"

"And how exactly do you believe I can fix... this? It's a child. How does one go about fixing a child?"

"How am I supposed to know? It called you 'Da'. So be a da and stop the kid from crying!"

"But I'm not its da?" Aragorn blinked and glanced at the child, "What is a da?"

"How is that important? Well, the kid thinks it is, so it is."

"You make no sense."

The toddler tugged on Aragorn's hair, "Da. Hungy."

"Yeah, Da, feed the kid."

"What, pray tell, am I supposed to feed the child?" Aragorn peered at the toddler, "I think it soiled itself."

"Oh, look, another job for you to do." Halbarad quickly stood up and took a few steps back. "I, for one, am not going anywhere near it while it stinks."

"It really is rather vile." Aragorn sighed heavily, "How does one so small make a stench that big?"

"I have no idea." The younger Ranger looked at Aragorn and smirked. "Well, I'm going to go upwind while you deal with... that."

As Halbarad blended with the surrounding foliage, Aragorn grimaced as his hair was once more yanked and the child gave a desperate, "Da?"

"Lovely. Child, do release my hair." The child just looked up at Aragorn, the eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to understand what the man was demanding. When nothing happened, the toddler yanked again. "That isn't letting go."

Aragorn removed his gloves and gently pried the toddler's fingers open and moved his head away quickly. With a scowl on his face, the Ranger then attempted to remove the child's sleepwear. "How does one work these infernal... contraptions?"

He heard a soft snort of amusement from somewhere in the wild, "I thought you were smart, oh leader."

The man spoke in a sing-song voice in order to not frighten the child, "Careful, Moo-y. I can always assign you to a post far in the frigid north to a town full of frightfully ugly women."

The child giggled and squirmed as Aragorn struggled with the sleepwear causing the front to open with a snap. "Aha!" The Ranger tugged harder and the pajama opened immediately, "See that, child? I am smart!"

There was another snort and a sound that was close to a muffled laugh, but apparently Halbarad was too conscious of the fact that Aragorn would follow through with his threat - without any remorse - to openly mock his Chieftain.

The kid, lying on his back on the soft grass, giggled as he kicked his legs up in the air - narrowly missing Aragorn's face - and stuffed some of his toes in his waiting mouth. There was a muffled sound as if the child was trying to say something, but there was no way to know for sure.

Aragorn let out a tortured groan. "What devilry is this?" The child rolled to the side and the Ranger poked at the child's bottom coverage. Neither of the men had seen anything like it. It was hard to the touch, yet smooth and clung to the child's body.

In slow movements, Halbarad made his way out of hiding, his head tilted to the side. He carefully stayed upwind so he wouldn't smell anything, but his eyes were on the contraption. "I... don't know. It's strange."

"It is also warm. That cannot be good."

"Well, I'm sure he has a bladder like everyone else. Why else would it be warm?"

"He? Do you think it's a boy?" Aragorn tugged at the bottom coverage carefully, yet resigned himself to pull his dagger from his boot.

"Yes. I have an equal chance of guessing the gender. I wager he's a boy." Halbarad, seeing that Aragorn wasn't going to make him do anything, took another step closer. "You do know that children move? Don't go and kill him."

"I don't intend to kill the child, only remove this... thing from its person." Aragorn turned the child onto it's back and rested his forearm over the kid's legs and carefully slipped the tip of the dagger into the edge of the bottom coverage and sliced it enough to tear it apart.

The moment the child was freed from its coverage the boy did what all toddlers do when freed from a diaper, causing two grown men to scramble away and squeal like women.

"Why?!" Gaining his senses quickly, Halbarad eyed Aragorn as if it was all his fault. "How is this fixing anything? Oh, and look, I'm right. Pay up."

"I did not accept that wager, therefore there is nothing to pay." Aragorn carefully moved back towards the boy and realized he had begun crawling away, his bare bottom in the air and giggling madly. "Catch him!"

"Me?" Halbarad slowly walked forward and grasped the child by his armpits and held him at arms length before depositing the child in Aragorn's arms. "I caught him, but you're his Da."

"How am I..." Aragorn grimaced at the odd feeling of a half naked squirming toddler and resisted the urge to growl at his long time friend, "Yes, but you're his Moo-y!"

"... He claimed you first."

"He saw me first. That means nothing."

"It means everything. He reached for you, not me. Plus he's marked you."

Aragorn thought to argue, but he couldn't. As Halbarad pointed out, his shirt was wet with the boy's urine and he had indeed been marked by the boy. "We need to figure out what to do with this child. He will need a home. Nourishment. Things we cannot provide for him."

"Hungy, Da." The boy wrapped his hand in Aragorn's hair and laid his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes.

"Do we have anything soft? He has no teeth so he obviously can't eat anything that he has to chew." Halbarad took his pack off with a sigh and began to rummage through the contents. "All I have is water, salted meat and some elven bread. Can he eat the bread?"

"At this point, it is better than nothing." Aragorn handed Halbarad his own pack, cradling the boy with his free arm.

With a sigh, Halbarad pulled out the lembas bread, ripped off a small piece and looked at it. "Will he explode? It's supposed to be filling for us, but he's so... tiny."

Aragorn looked horrified at the mental imagery of an exploding toddler. "That will not happen. Give me that." He took the small piece and bit it in half, giving the smaller one to the boy.

Halbarad crouched again, looking at the boy with an intense look. When the boy just swallowed the bread and nothing happened, the man let out a relieved sigh. "That's one hurdle down. Where are we going to take him?"

"The only place I can think of is Rivendell."

Halbarad walked briskly a few steps behind Aragorn, his bow hanging on his back beside his quiver. His sword swung gently by his side, comforting him with its presence. He led the two horses, their reigns held loosely in his hands.

The black one was Aragorn's and the other was his own, the gray. He didn't mind leading the horses. He had no desire to hold the child. Sure he was cute when he wanted to be, but the brat was also demanding and stunk up a storm when he made a mess.

There was only one time when Halbarad cleaned the tyke. After that, as soon as the younger ranger caught a sniff, he just happened to disappear to check for any dangers. After all, it wouldn't do to have the child die before they even got to Rivendell.

They walked across a sturdy, ivory carved bridge with intricate designs. The soothing sound of water gurgling by and the splash of the waterfalls calmed the two rangers and seemed to lull the boy into a deeper sleep.

Neither ranger gave the child a name. It wasn't as if the boy needed one at the moment. After all, the kid couldn't tell them their names nor was he capable of answering to anything at the moment. And he wouldn't be in their charge anymore. They didn't need more attachments.

Without thought, Aragorn led them to the stables, supporting the child in his arms. The boy had his tiny hands fisted in Aragorn's shirt and his face buried on the man's chest. There was a soft little sigh as the child nuzzled his nose against the fabric near his face.

Aragorn waited patiently as Halbarad efficiently took the horse's tack off and rubbed their mounts down with a towel. The elves that worked with the horses - Lindari and Iminie - watched with faint smiles on their pale faces.

Every time the two Dúnedain came in, one or both would attempt to take care of the rangers' mounts for them, but they were always denied. The two elves would nod and smile in amusement, but this time around Aragorn couldn't tell if it was because they took care of their own horses or if it was because he was holding a child.

"Elrond wishes for your presence, Aragorn and Halbarad, along with your child." The voice, soft and smooth, came from the entrance of the stables. The two rangers looked over at the elf, the boy merely stirring before resting once again against Aragorn's chest, the tiny mouth latching on a small thumb.

The Elda was petite, and at a first glance one would assume the elf was female. He had soft features, he was short for an elven man and had an air of femininity around him. However, looks were deceiving.

Before them was Erestor, the chief councillor of Elrond and a mighty fighter to those who stood in his way. Aragorn nodded as he shifted the heavy weight of the child in his arms, "We will go now. Where is he waiting for us?"

Halbarad wiped his hands on his trousers and walked forward towards Aragorn. What the younger man was not expecting was for his chieftain to carefully extract the child from his person and place the burden in Halbarad's arms. "Why me?" He sighed before looking at Erestor. "Surely you would like to hold the child?"

"It is an honor I am unbefitting of accepting." Erestor inclined his head and turned. "I will take you to where Elrond and Arwen are waiting. If you will follow me."

Halbarad had to nudge Aragorn when the older man froze, holding back his laughter. It seemed as if every time Arwen's name was mentioned, Aragorn would get lost in his thoughts. Though it was worse when they were in the actual presence of the elf.

The quartet made their way down and around, through walkways, across bridges - and if asked, Halbarad would have sworn they were being paraded around Rivendell for the amusement of the elves for it took quite a long time to reach their destination. Many elves were watching their approach. None spoke, but they all had a certain wistful smile when they saw the child.

Erestor motioned the Rangers forward through the archway with a sweep of his hand before he departed. Aragorn gave the parting man a respectful nod of his head and a small smile.

The toddler stirred, rubbed his eyes and raised his head with a huge yawn and cat-like stretch. He gave Halbarad a toothless grin and patted the man's face with a giggle. The boy twisted in the ranger's arms and instinctively reached out for Aragorn.

With a barely concealed grin - which could have easily been a grimace - Aragorn accepted the child back. Adjusting the toddler in his grasp, Aragorn straightened the over large shirt the boy wore. His voice was low when he spoke to the child, "I want you to behave. We are going to see Elrond, Lord of Rivendell."

The child simply plucked his finger from his mouth and captured Aragorn's face in his chubby hands, one on each cheek and gave the man a huge grin. The boy dropped his head against the man's, pressing their foreheads together and babbled nonsensically in an amazingly serious tone.

"Lectured by a toddler." Halbarad chuckled, "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

There was a soft chuckle, causing the two rangers to look up. "I am sure the boy is aware of the severity of meeting a Lord. Come, let him down and let him enjoy freedom as we talk." Before them stood Lord Elrond, wearing a brown, high necked tunic. Around his head was a ringlet of gold, contrasting nicely with his dark hair.

Halbarad and Aragorn looked around the stone pavilion, noticing that there was nothing to stop the toddler from falling off the edge and into the green foliage below.

"We will not let him fall. Surely you both understand the importance of children to Eldar," a new, softer voice spoke up, her voice tinged with laughter. Arwen stepped forward, her light blue dress flowing around her feet, a smile adorned her face. Her long, wavy brunette hair swung around her softly, her green eyes lit with mirth.

The lad was still babbling away to Aragorn before he landed a messy kiss on Aragorn's lips with a throaty laugh of his own. Halbarad choked, having to turn his back as he started to cough repeatedly while Aragorn hastily set the toddler on the ground and skirted away.

"Da?" A soft, trembling voice had Halbarad turning back around to see that the boy was on the ground with trembling lips. The child's eyes were wide as he stared at Aragorn a few feet away.

Rolling his eyes with a smirk, Halbarad walked forward and crouched in front of the boy, effectively blocking Aragorn from the little one's sight. With the others not being able to see his face, Halbarad took a moment to consider his choices before he gave in and made a little face at the boy while saying, "Lad, I'm not sure your Da appreciated the kiss. Perhaps you should try again?"

The boy laughed and clapped his hands, "Moo-y! Moo-y!"

Halbarad just sighed as he looked up at Aragorn, "I believe he wants a kiss."

"He's calling your name."

"Moo-y!" The child cried again, his little fists clenching and unclenching in front of Halbarad.

Ignoring the two smiling elves, Halbarad leaned in and kissed the boy's cheek before hastily pulling away.

Apparently satisfied with that, the lad turned to Aragorn. "Da! Dadadadada!"

Aragorn took a few steps forward before crouching next to Halbarad, Aragorn quickly leaned forward and kissed the boy's other cheek. The boy laughed as he clapped loudly, though the laughter from behind the two rangers was louder.

"Ada, I believe we have finally come up with a way to soften the rangers. Face them against a toddler and they fall."

The rangers stood up and dusted off their clothing. "Would you be able to deny the lad, Arwen?" Aragorn asked with a smile.

Arwen just giggled as she went on, "You bring such a blessing into our home. What purpose does that serve?"

The two elves walked forward slowly, each with a smile on their faces as they studied the child.

Aragorn spoke up, seeing as Halbarad wasn't forthcoming. "We were hoping you would raise the boy."

"Don't look at me," Halbarad muttered as the elves attention landed on him. "He's the one who immediately thought of Rivendell."

Aragorn looked sideways at Halbarad, "You didn't object."

"Just don't go lumping me in with your ideas."

"There was -"

A soft thump had all their attention going to the boy. The boy looked at the ground, a confused frown on his face. He scooted forward an inch on his bottom before smacking his hands down on the tile. He giggled, clapped, scooted forward again, slapped the floor once more before repeating the whole cycle.

Arwen hid her laugh when the two rangers bickering was interrupted by the child. "You speak of the child as if he has no name. Have you not given him one?"

"No," both men replied.

"That has to be rectified. Name him." She kept her face neutral when the two men looked confused and seemed to beg her not to make them name the boy.

"Why can't you, Lady Arwen?" Halbarad asked. "You will be the one who will spend the most time with him, after all."

She let out a soft laugh as she nodded, "That is indeed true. However, he seems firmly attached to the two of you. Surely you realize what he means when he refers to you as 'Da'."

Aragorn shook his head, looking at the little boy on the ground who was slapping the floor while he let out gurgling laughs. "No."

"Surely you know the elven language as well as your own."

Aragorn looked offended at that and Arwen held back another giggle.

"What does 'Ada' stand for, Aragorn?"

She finally let out a full laugh when the man paled drastically as the news hit home. Aragorn stuttered, "He doesn't... He shouldn't... How do you even know if that's what he means?"

Halbarad chuckled, trying in vain to keep the sound from gaining Aragorn's attention. "I believe I told you it was important to the child."

Aragorn glared at the other ranger. "It does not matter. I will not be able to raise him."

"On the contrary, you will help raise him," Elrond finally spoke up again. "You bring him to our home and expect us to rear this child without any support? He is partly your responsibility. You will come," he paused to look over at Halbarad, "the both of you, and spend time with him. Once he is old enough, he will go with you and learn the way of the Dúnedain."

Arwen nodded and smiled at Aragorn. "What is his name?"

Without much thought, Aragorn picked the first name that came to him, "Eradan."

Mae l'ovannen, Adate!

Eradan slowly crept up to the door, peeking his head out of the library. Behind him in the lavish room were books upon books. However, it was the table he wanted to escape. On the brown, carved wood stood books he had to memorize so he could recite what he had read to his Ammë.

The six year old smiled happily when he saw that there was no one in sight and quietly exited the room as he had seen his Ammë do: quickly and quietly. He bit down on his tongue in concentration as he slowly moved forward, each foot placed gently and almost daintly. According to his Ammë and Adate, he could learn to be just as quiet as they were in a few years.

As he was creeping to where he could peek around a corner, he felt arms wrap around his waist and pick him up in the air. Laughing, Eradan kicked his legs out, "Mae l'ovannen, Adate!"

"Mae g'ovannen, child. Though I believe it's time for little boys to be studying and not sneaking about."

The words were soon followed by Eradan being set onto his feet. The black haired boy turned with a grin - missing two teeth - to face his Adate. Elrond gave him a smile and ruffled his hair as Eradan pouted, "But Adate, why must I learn about the Istari? Ada is a Dúnedan where you and Ammë are Eldar."

"Ah, but you answered your own question. As outsiders, we have the duty to learn all we can about others. After all, we can not understand them, if we do not first know them."

Eradan crossed his arms and continued to pout, "I thought I was allowed a break."

"Which you had an hour ago."

A grin bloomed across the young boy's face as hope welled up in his chest. Perhaps his Ammë would talk sense into his Adate about leaving his lessons alone for the rest of the day. "Ammë!"

Turning, Eradan sprinted past Elrond and jumped into Arwen's arms. She laughed as she twirled him around. Once she set him down, she crouched so she was eye-level with him, "What is this about skipping your lessons?"

"It technically doesn't count as lessons if no one's there to teach me."

She tapped her finger on the tip of his nose, "There is always one of us around if you have any questions, you know this. Plus we did say once you can successfully sneak by whoever is watching you, we would cut your study hours."

"But I did, Ammë! I got all the way out here when I usually can only go a few steps!"

"Ah, but it was I, little one, who stood guard. I wanted to see your face when you thought you had freedom."

"Adate!" Eradan pouted and stomped a foot. "That isn't fair! I was still able to get almost down the hallway!"

Arwan laughed happily at her father and her son in all but blood. "Come. You only have a few hours left before your lessons with your bow."

"But Ammë..."

"No, Henig, you will go to your studies."

The small boy pursed his lips before storming back into the library, pout fully in place. No matter how hard he tried to be quiet like the Eldar, he failed. He just wanted to be like his Ammë. He kicked his foot against the ground as he glared at the table. He just wanted to... disappear and be able to walk quietly!

With another huff, he decided to give sneaking out another shot.

However, as soon as he stuck his head out, he could see his Adate and Ammë standing side by side, whispering to each other. He held his breath, but neither seemed to hear or see him so he crept forwards until he was behind them.

When still neither of them reacted, Eradan held back the urge to jump forward yelling, "Ai!"

"Ada, perhaps we are being too harsh on him with his studies? He is only a boy of six years."

"All the more reason to be stern, Henig. He is young, he is able to learn. Let him."

Arwen nodded, but she had a small frown in place, nibbling her bottom lip. "We have talked of this with Aragorn and Halbarad, as well as Eradan's own wishes, but surely we will not let him go to the Dúnedain so soon? Shouldn't he learn more here before he leaves?"

Elrond laughed before pulling his daughter into his arms, "My dear, he will be ready to leave by the time he is thirteen. You have not yet spent half the time you have with him yet. Ease your mind. He will not leave you here forever."

"Still. I'm worried, Ada. He is my Ionneg."

"I know. All children must fly on their own."

"With what wings?" But Arwen chuckled and pulled away from Elrond. "I know what you will say, Ada, and I'm not sure I want to hear that his wings will be what we forge for him." The two grinned at each other before Arwen turned to the library. "I will go check on him."

Eradan closed his eyes and knew that as soon as his Ammë turned around to walk into the library he would be caught. The seconds ticked by before he slowly opened an eye and saw that she had breezed right by him.

"Ada!" Arwen's voice was high-pitched and tinged with worry. "I can not find him, Ada!"

Elrond raced forward to stand at the doorway that led to the library. The two entered, rummaging around and yelling, "Eradan! Eradan where are you?"

The boy cocked his head, not knowing why they were looking for him when they obviously had to pass him to get to the library. Huffing, he called out, "I'm not fooled. You had to pass me to get in there!"

All sound froze in the library before the two elves rushed out of the library to stand in the hallway, a mere foot from where Eradan stood. "Ionneg? Where are you?"

"Ammë, I'm right here. You can see me."

Arwen's eyes widened as she stared right where Eradan stood, but her eyes were slightly glazed, as if not able to focus. "No, no I can't! Ada! I can hear him, but I can't see him. Where is he?"

"Calm, Arwen. Child, come stand in front of me."

Confused, the boy did as he was told and said, "Now what, Adate?"

Arwen reached forward blindly for Eradan, taking a few moments before her hand grazed the boy's shoulder. When she felt that solid form beneath her fingers, she grasped and yanked him to her body, her arms wrapping around her child possessively. "Why is he invisible? Ada, why can't I see him?"

Elrond stared at the sight, a smirk trying to play on his features as he tried to hide his amusement. "Daughter, surely you remember Mithrandir?"

"What does the Istar have to do with... oh... oh!" Her eyes widened as comprehension hit her. "We must send for him."

"As well as the Dúnedain."

Magic is Everywhere

Twirling the staff around him, Eradan slammed it onto the ground, allowing his magic to flow around the room. The wind rose, making his hair fly wildly about in the air as his green eyes danced with laughter as light encased the caverns.

His laugh rose as he grinned at Mithrandir, who gave him an encouraging smile. The elder Istar had been training the boy for the past few years, enjoying the infectious laughter and smiles. Eradan, for his part, enjoyed learning from his mentor. He learned how to walk quietly as his Ammë and had been able to sneak up behind his Ada.

His Uncle Halbarad had thought it terribly funny and kept telling his Ada that it was a shame that a child of twelve years could sneak up on a ranger. Of course, Eradan fixed the issue by scaring his uncle with a shout of 'Moony!' one day.

No one ever figured out where Eradan had come up with the nickname for his uncle, but it caused the ranger to mutter incoherently. Of course his Ada had simply found it funny.

Mithrandir nodded at his apprentice and ushered the boy out of the caves under Imladris. The boy let his staff lose its light as the two walked side by side.

"How goes your studies on healing?" Mithrandir asked Eradan.

"Fairly well, Adate says that most of my intermediate training is complete. He said I learned a lot faster than others simply because I started at such a young age. Plus Adate is a lot tougher on me than any others."

"As such in any family. Your grandfather only wishes the best for you."

Eradan nodded happily as he walked beside Mithrandir with a spring in his step. "I know. I'm not worried. Adate can be quite funny when he's serious, though I'm not sure he would appreciate me saying that."

Mithrandir chuckled and patted the boy on the shoulder. "You're illumination lessons are coming along nicely. Let us go and work on your shielding in one of the many fields."

"Of course, teacher. What else am I to learn aside from that?"

His mentor smiled at the boy with a shake of his head, "The question, my boy, is what will you not learn. There are many different aspects of our magic. There is no limit, but there is always consequence for what we do." Here the man in the gray robes paused, stroking his long beard. The two stood in silence for a long while, not quite at the gates of Imladris.

"Let me ask you this: after these few years under my tutelage, what have you learned?"

The boy's eyebrows furrowed. "Many things. One of them is to think before acting. We have a power that many people are awed at and as such fear it just as much, if not more." When Mithrandir nodded, Eradan bit the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out what his teacher was asking of him. "Is it something more basic?"

All the boy received was a somewhat distracted, "Hmm..." as Mithrandir studied the different waterfalls.

Instead of talking towards the elder wizard, Eradan turned slightly away so he was focused on the grass, on the slight breeze, on the fall of water droplets, on the smell of spring when he spoke next, "Magic is everywhere. It makes up all life form, every element. It's in the air we breath, in every movement we make. When we use magic, we draw from that endless source of magic. We ourselves aren't able to handle that mass amount of power we are given. Instead, we have to channel it into our staffs. From there we create what... comes..." Eradan's eyes widened as he swiftly turned to his tutor who was now staring straight at the boy with a smile in place. "Is it truly that limitless?"

"It truly is. When we create, we use what is given to us. When we create fire, we take the heat from the air. When we create shapes, we can use whatever material is available: clouds, smoke, water, rocks, trees. We bend and shift, create and destroy, but only with what is given to us."

"But... how do we create something if it doesn't already exist?"

"What is the most vital thing to any lifeform?"

"Air."

"Do we not have air?"

"Well... yes... but what about flesh? And bone, organs, tissues? Those weren't in existence."

"We have our own bodies to draw from."

The boy bit his lip, narrowing his eyes in thought. "We can create life?"

Mithrandir gently cupped Eradan's face to force the boy to look up at him, "In a sense. Magic works in mysterious ways. You can create a body, but to create life you must take from life itself, which is not easily given."

"What if it is forcefully taken?"

"Magic, my boy, can never be taken by force. It is a gift to every Istar and it is magic itself who decides who will be able to use that power. As such, everything in our world will gladly give part of their magic for our use. However, as soon as we start to become greedy, it is possible to lose our ability to use magic."

The young Istar grinned up at Mithrandir before nodding. However, his smile faded as he asked quietly, "Why do you tell me this now? Why not earlier?"

"Would you have understood, Eradan, if I tried to explain that our powers hold too many possibilities for any of us to learn them all? If I told you that what you would learn would take your whole life, and still leave so many questions left unanswered? If I explained that magic is much like water, dependent on every water droplet and each small drop was a different aspect to learn? No, my young apprentice, you would have been confused.

"Now you have the knowledge of six years of working with magic under your belt. On top of that, you have been studying healing and weaponry. Now, I presume, the concept is easier to grasp, though the idea may seem a bit staggering."

Eradan blinked a few times, before his eyes lit up. "That's why each Istar is different, isn't it, teacher? Magic is... everything where each Istar is different, thinks differently and so manipulates, bends and shifts our magic in alternate ways!"

Mithrandir's smile grew wide, "Yes, that is the truth."

The excitement bubbled up before it slipped quickly away. "But then why is mine so like yours? You do one thing and I do the exact same thing. I can only do what you can."

The elder Istar chuckled, "You have just learned how magic allows us to be different. You did not know the theory before and simply bid your magic to do as mine did. The only limit you will now find when working with magic is yourself: mind, body and soul."

"Wait... I do not quite understand."

"Let us first start with the easiest of the three: your body. There is only so much magic it can handle. Do you remember when you first used magic and you had to sleep a few days?" When Eradan nodded, Mithrandir continued, "Your body was not used to using magic. That you were able to hold your power for as long as you had, without any help from a staff, is miraculous, but it took it's toll on you. Even now you have a limit on how much magic you can use. Magic itself is limitless, but our abilities are far from being eternal.

"The next two are difficult to explain. They might seem the same at first, but are in fact two separate entities. Your mind is controlled by your thoughts, by your imagination. There you figure out where to pull the magic from and then with your imagination you create what you will. For example, the light from earlier. Your mind knew what you wanted - light - and so you drew light from the particles around you that held that light and amplified it with your staff. However, with your imagination you can do many things: have it form just as a tiny light to merely guide your way, as a full encompassing light that will show meters of feet in front of you, or even as a strand that weaves to and fro in front of you. It matters not, but how you imagine it in your mind."

Eradan nodded hesitantly, understanding to an extent.

"Your soul is the embodiment of who you are. Your morales, your feelings, your emotions, your wishes are what make up your soul. In turn, that is what manipulates what you create with your magic. Your mind and soul are intertwined to become one unit. It can come to the point that they seem inseparable and it is impossible to tell where the thought or feeling comes from. Your body holds the energy while your staff acts as the conductor. Without all the pieces working in harmony, you truly will not find your place.

"Now come. I believe it is time you rest your magic for today. This is a lot of information and I'm sure you will enjoy the time to think on it. Perhaps your Ammë will help you practice with your bow. She may be interested in what you learned today."

"Teacher, I thought we were going to work with shields."

"Your mind needs a break from all magic so it can comprehend what we talked about. We will work on the shields at a later date."

The young Istar bowed and walked towards the archery field, his mind whirling with all that Mithrandir had spoken of. Perhaps if he spoke with his Ammë and Adate it might seem a bit clearer, but for the moment, all he felt was overwhelmed.

I Will Make You Proud.

Aragorn kept a tight hold of the teen - almost a man - and guided him to the table towards the back of the crowded room where a friend sat. The three sat quietly within the shadows and awaited the arrival of the meal. Aragorn looked closely at the youth, "I've missed your wit. You've grown quiet and contemplative."

"I've grown up, Ada. Besides, if you want childish wit, you still have Halbarad."

Halbarad scoffed and cuffed the teen playfully. The three laughed heartily, surprising the other patrons as the tavern stilled. Never had they seen the Dúnedain so carefree and boisterous.

Eradan canted his head and looked at the others within the room, "They fear you."

"Some do." Aragorn admitted before quietly nodding at the waitress that brought their food.

The youngest at the table plucked up his spoon and stared blankly at the food within the bowl, "What do they call this?"

"Stew. Now eat." Halbarad snorted at his 'nephew'.

"Have they no greens? Ada, it's... gray." Eradan stirred the contents of the pewter bowl and grimaced at the aroma that wafted towards him. "Even our horses eat better than this!"

Ignoring the snickering from Halbarad, Aragorn looked sternly at Eradan. "Learn to eat the food of Men and practice speaking Westron. You were raised by the Eldar, but you are of Edain. It would do you good to experience other cultures. As a Dúnedain, you must learn many languages and customs." Aragorn broke off a piece of bread and dipped it into the stew, "It is hearty and filling. And once we've made it to camp, you'll be forced to hunt for your own food."

"Adate ensured that I learned much about others and their customs." Eradan straightened, "I will make you proud, Ada."

Aragorn smiled at the teen, "I am already proud of you, Ionneg."

Eradan watched from his kneeling position, bow steady as he watched his prey down the length of the arrow. The rabbit raised its head and stopped nibbling on the leaf as it looked around as if sensing something. The young apprentice was patient and unmoving.

The rabbit twitched to look towards its left and crouched nervously. The time had come; the rabbit was skittish and ready to bolt. With the release of his bow string, Eradan let his arrow fly across the small clearing and killed the rabbit.

The once soft brown fur was soon wet with blood as the rabbit laid on its side. The rabbit's heart rate was erratic and its foot moved quickly as if to run away from the pain until the small beast stilled.

The young wizard closed his eyes and gripped his heart as he felt the magic leave with the rabbit's soul. He swallowed back the sudden grief that washed over him. "Ada," Eradan looked to his father beside him. A single tear fell, "I cannot do this again. Every life has magic and to kill such a gift..."

Aragorn swept the young man in his arms and laid his son's forehead to his chest. Resting his chin on the boy's head he spoke softly, "Did it pain you? I saw you flinch."

"I felt his life bleed away. I felt his confusion and pain. I was trained to protect, to heal and I feel the magic in all living things." Eradan pulled back and searched his father's face hoping that the man would understand. "The rabbit's life force was pure and untainted."

"I will not ask you to hunt again."

The trail was clearly visible - bent twig, indented grass - which only served to concern him more. It was obviously a trap... or they had no faith in his abilities. Eradan stilled and peered through the trees. He could feel Halbarad's impatience. The youngling had been silent since he began tracking his objective, not once relaying what he saw. Eradan saw no point in informing the man things he could see for himself. What the teen had seen up to this point had been irrelevant and speaking - either by speech or hand gestures - could have given their location away.

Canting his head the recruit listened before turning to Halbarad with a small knowing smirk. Eradan held out his hand signaling for the man to stay. The teen soon slipped between the foliage and shifted into shadow only to emerge once more with a bound and grinning ranger.

Eradan resisted the urge to scoff. The recruit dropped Undossa at Halbarad's feet, crouched, whipped around, sweeping a leg out tripping his father who landed - gracefully with a resounding thud - beside the other two Dúnedain. Aragorn's eyes showed pride and amusement. The man may have wanted to smile, but the hand pressed over his mouth and the dagger held at Aragorn's throat wouldn't allow him.

"Mae l'ovannen, Ada." Eradan sheathed his dagger and released his father before turning to Undossa. The recruit did his best not to pout, "If that were truly a test, you failed. Shall we try again?"

Halbarad snorted and Aragorn laughed, "You were the one being tested, not Undossa."

"That was no test, it was an insult." Eradan huffed.

"You cheated!" Undossa wriggled in his bindings, "Release me and no using magic next time."

"Cheated?" Eradan smirked, "Are we not taught to use our abilities? It is not my fault that I am an Istar."

Undossa growled and squirmed, but it was Aragorn that prompted his son to let the man loose, "You can't hunt the man if he remains bound."

The Chosen One

Dark lashes fluttered erratically as blue eyes struggled to open. Accompanying this act was a groan of discomfort. Before the Hobbit could manage this impossible feat of rousing, Frodo's eyes slammed shut tightly with a grimace.

Eradan's soft voice attempted to lure his patient back to living, "Come, Perian. It is time to awaken. Your friends are concerned. It would delight them if you were to open your eyes and greet the day.

"Why do I feel as if I know this Perian, Mithrandir? There is a pull - a connection - which I do not understand." Eradan turned to his mentor who stood stoically at the foot of the bed.

Gandalf's furry grey eyebrows furrowed like two caterpillars across his wrinkled forehead. He clasped his hands together to mask the sudden tremble. The Istar tried to remain calm and not show how unnerved he was by his apprentice's words. Eradan saw through his attempt, yet politely refrained from pointing out his observation opting instead to hear what Gandalf would say. The elderly man took a moment before answering, choosing his words carefully. "I am sorry, young one. You will need to speak to your Adate for that answer."

"Yet you know."

"Perhaps, but it is not my place to say."

Eradan saw the unspoken plea for understanding in the Istar's eyes and the young man gave his mentor a small nod. "Very well, Mithrandir. Thank you for your guidance."

A lilting chant in Ñoldorin Quenya washed over the Halfling and the man's grimace faded with a gasp of relief. Once again the Hobbit's eyes fluttered, but this time he managed to open them slowly.

"Gandalf?" The scratchy voice cracked from disuse.

"Ah, you're awake." Gandalf gladly turned his attention to the patient nestled in the comfort of the soft bed. "How do you feel, Frodo?"

"I…" Frodo croaked. Eradan plucked a cup of water from the small table and helped support Frodo's head, aiding the Hobbit in drinking small sips. Frodo smiled tiredly, "Mmm, thank you."

"You are most welcome." Eradan saw the question in the Hobbit's eyes and replied, "I am Eradan, son of Aragorn. You are in Imladris or as you may know it, Rivendell. Glorfindel brought you to us."

"Glorfindel?" Frodo frowned as if trying to grasp onto an elusive memory, "I… I remember a sword… the darkness… an elf… and dark riders…" Frodo clutched his chest, eyes wide and heart racing, "What am I remembering?"

Eradan placed his warm hand over Frodo's, "You were injured by a Morgul-blade of an Ulairi."

Frodo gasped in remembrance, "I remember the Nazgûl attack."

Nodding, Eradan continued, "Ada - Aragorn or Strider, as you know him - along with Glorfindel fought off five of the nine before Ada was able to try and heal you."

"Strider is your father?" Frodo listened to the tale with wide eyed wonder.

"He is." Eradan confirmed, giving Frodo a small grin and continued, "That is when Ammë arrived."

"Ammë?"

"Ammë is Arwen, daughter of Elrond." Eradan watched the emotions flicker across the Hobbit's face as he took in the tale. "Ada bid Ammë to bring you here, to Imladris, to be healed. Your wound was not fatal, but the taint of evil had increased beyond Ada's ability, threatening to overtake you and make you a slave as is the Ulairi." The young storyteller paused as Frodo gasped at that bit of news. "The last four Dark Riders chased Ammë, but she is too clever for such evil, obviously since you are safe within the borders of the Eldar.

"And to answer your first question, Glorfindel is an Elda-lord and mighty warrior of Imladris." Eradan chuckled softly when Frodo sat back stunned by the events that had played out around him while the Hobbit fought to live. "You are safe here, Master Baggins."

Frodo closed his eyes briefly and nodded his understanding. The Hobbit rubbed at his chest with a small frown, but did not voice his concerns. Gandalf clapped a large hand to the young Istar's shoulder. "We were lucky Eradan was here. His healing abilities rival his grandfather's."

"You honor me, Mithrandir." Eradan saw more questions in the Hobbit's eyes as they drifted towards Gandalf. The young man gave a small nod of understanding setting the cup of water back onto the small table. With his hand clasped in a fist against his chest, Eradan gave a small bow, "I will take my leave. If you have need, Mithrandir can summon me. There are others who have been waiting for you to rouse, Master Baggins. I'm sure they will arrive soon. Master Gamgee has not strayed far from your door since their arrival."

"Thank you, Eradan." Frodo smiled with genuine, heartfelt gratitude that lit his tired face.

Eradan made good his escape, closing the door softly behind him. He wanted, no needed, to speak with his grandfather. He had to know-

"Excuse me?" The concerned voice of Sam called out to Eradan when the distracted young man brushed past the Halfling.

The young Istar bit back an impatient sigh at the interruption and kept his calm exterior as he addressed the Halfling. "Yes, Master Gamgee?"

"How is Frodo?" Sam's hazel eyes searched Eradan's green gaze for answers, "Is he okay?"

"He has awakened. His wound is healed, the taint stilled, but it will always be with him." Eradan spoke distinctly, refusing to placate the Hobbit. "Master Baggins is conversing with Mithrandir."

"Mithrandir?"

Eradan chuckled softly. It seemed as if so many in Middle-Earth were known by several different names depending on what language was spoken, "You perhaps know him as Gandalf."

"Oh!" Sam eyed the door hesitantly.

"Master Baggins has many questions, but I'm sure he would welcome a visit from a friend when you are ready." Eradan refrained from further comment when Sam nodded absently apparently only half-listening. "Excuse me, for I must speak with Adate."

"Right, thanks…" Sam frowned in thought and hadn't really noticed that Eradan had already walked away before he had uttered a response.

Eradan moved swiftly and silently across the ivory bridges that separated the visitor's quarters to the center of the city with graceful resolute steps. The soft leather whispered his arrival, accompanied by a gentle rap of knuckles on the doorway. "Adate, if I may?"

Elrond drew his gaze from Aragorn and Arwen to meet his grandson's. All three occupants observed Eradan as he stepped into the library, but it was the eldest that spoke first. Elrond's tone was even and calm as always, not showing any emotions he may have felt. "I have been expecting you."

"Ada," Arwen began, but Elrond gave her a stern look that stilled her words.

Aragorn's soothing hold on Arwen's forearm kept her at his side. The ranger spoke tenderly, "You knew the time would come. We both knew it was possible."

But Arwen was far from placated, "He's just a child."

"He's not a child, he's a man."

"He's my child!"

"Ammë," Eradan was concerned. The stress and fear in Arwen's voice caused his soul pain. Eradan swiftly crossed the room and took Arwen's free hand in his, placing her palm against his chest to allow her to feel the steady beat of his heart. "I will always be your child."

"Come child, we shall walk and I will ease your questioning mind as best I can." Elrond strode to the doorway, hands folded behind his back and shoulders held straight. He did not look back to see if the young man followed.

Eradan gazed at his mother with a soft smile and gave her cheek a small kiss, before dashing out the door to follow his grandfather. His steps slowed when he was beside the Lord of Rivendell, but dared not to speak until the man was ready to continue the conversation.

The two men stood before the dancing waterfall in companionable silence until Elrond choose to speak, "Long ago, a story foretold of the coming of the Chosen One. The Chosen One would arrive from the stars to bear witness to the end of an era, the end of evil and heal the land and its people."

Eradan gazed upon the churning water at the bottom of the waterfall and reflected on his grandfather's words. When he had collected his thoughts, Eradan spoke. "Ada said that I was found in the forest. Surely I am not this Chosen One."

"You arrived from the stars in a flash of light. You have the grace of an Elda. You have the strong, bold heart of Edain. You have the knowledge of the lands as a Dúnadan. You have the magic of the Istari. Your healing has grown beyond my own abilities. I have always known there was something special about you. It wasn't until the arrival of the Perian that I fully understood.

"Eradan, child of my child's heart, you are the Chosen One."

The council would meet in the early morning after the sun rose and dried the dew on the soft petals of the Laurinquë. Eradan was to accompany Aragorn and Halbarad as a member of the Dúnedain.

Eradan hadn't spoken immediately with his father or mother after being told of the legend, opting for solitude and meditation. That evening after the last meal of the day, the young troubled soul sought out parental guidance. As much as Eradan wanted to deny it, all signs indicated him as the Chosen One. His whole life, his entire existence was directed to the fate of Middle-Earth.

The morning brought sunshine, a mist of coolness as a brief respite and clear blue skies. Halbarad stood to the left of his father's chair while Eradan stood to the right. Around the council sat king and princes, lords and steward representing all walks of life among those that called Middle-Earth home.

The morning sun was long gone as it soon burned into the afternoon. The council had been discussing recent events, the journey of the ring from the Misty Mountains from the hands of Gollum, to Bilbo Baggins and his adventures to reside for a time of quiet reflection in the Hobbit world of the Shire. It was an interesting tale or would have been if Eradan could focus on the fate of mankind rather than his origins and his own foretold journey.

It wasn't until Frodo stepped forward to the center podium and displayed the ring, setting it calmly on the stone. The relief was evident as Frodo's shoulders immediately slumped as if the weight of the world was suddenly lifted from his small body. Frodo fell heavily back into his seat and rubbed tiredly at his temples.

Eradan watched in silent fascination at the different reactions of those gathered at the council. Boromir of Gondor - son of Denethor, Ruling Steward of Minas Tirith - sat forward with such intensity that his knuckles whitened due to the strong grip he had on the arms of his chair. The man's reaction was strong and gave Eradan pause as he gripped his staff more tightly.

Bilbo Baggins - former Ring-bearer - looked at the ring with longing. Gimli - son of Gloin, who sat beside him - looked to his father with doubt shadowing his dwarven features. Each Eldar present had remained stoic keeping their mask of calm firmly in place. Halbarad gripped Aragorn's chair as his breath hitched as the man seated recoiled.

Discussion soon turned to the ring and what was to be done with it. Elrond was adamant, "The ring must be destroyed."

Boromir shook his head slowly back and forth as if the concept was inconceivable, "Why destroy it? Send it to Gondor, long has my people suffered and fought to keep the borders of your lands safe. Let us use the ring and turn the tide of war!"

"You cannot wield it. The ring answers to only one master." Aragorn's voice of reason was not accepted calmly by the man of Gondor.

Soon the man was on his feet, "We have suffered and bled-"

"I understand your plight-"

"Who are you to say you understand as Gondor has stood alone? Where were you and your Rangers?" Boromir spat the last word as if it were foul.

Legolas - son of Thranduil, prince of the Woodland Realm, Mirkwood - leapt gracefully to his feet in a show of solidarity to his longtime friend, "You speak with Aragorn, heir of Isildur-"

"Legolas," Aragorn's voice cut off his friend's tirade before it could get out of hand, "Please be seated, my friend. He is not worthy of your anger and remaining calm is the only way to get through this council. The fate of our world is more important than one man's reputation."

"Heir of Isildur?" Boromir sneered openly at Aragorn and scoffed, "It matters not. Gondor has no king. It needs no king!"

Raised voices, angered temperaments, a heated discussion began between the dwarves and man that somehow included a few elves as well. Eradan's eyes swept to the ring and narrowed as he listened carefully. His voice was a low whisper as he asked his father, "Do you hear that?"

"What do you hear?" Aragorn frowned and cocked his head to the side. Each Eldar within the council - not already arguing - listened to the nearly silent conversation.

Halbarad's eyebrows furrowed, "I hear nothing."

"It is already calling out to claim the hearts of Edain." Eradan looked pointedly at Boromir. "It has already tried to claim the heart of the Perian." His gaze moved to Frodo. "The ring must be destroyed as Adate said. It is the only way, Ada."

Eradan turned his emerald gaze to his grandfather, knowing the man had heard the conversation between father and son. Elrond gave the young Istar a nearly imperceptible nod.

The young man walked calmly around the circle of seats to stand beside his grandfather. Many eyes were upon him, but not all had noticed the shift in the council. Eradan's voice was calm, wise beyond his mere twenty anniversaries of his arrival upon Middle-Earth. "Enough." The Istar slammed the end of his staff upon the stone floor causing a short blast of magic to wash over the council, calming them immediately.

Every eye of those gathered at the council was now on the young man that stood beside Elrond; his face remained hidden in the shadows of his dark green cloak, a bow strapped to his back with a quiver full of arrows and a staff grasped tightly in his hand. Those that stood and argued soon sat, stunned and silenced. Finally embracing his destiny, Eradan continued, "I am Eradan - found by the Dúnedain. I came from the stars twenty years ago. I am Edain, raised by the Eldar, trained by the Dúnedain and Istari." He threw back his hood, swept his gaze slowly across the council, lingering on his father's pained gaze that was filled with love and worry for his only son. "I am the Chosen One. As foretold in tales, legends and prophecy, I am the one that is destined to carry the ring back to the depths of hell, to the fires of Mount Doom."

Forgive Me.

Eradan stood at the lip of the drop off, his green eyes on the molten lava lapping at the rocks far below him. The young man - now a score and four years - leaned against his staff, a wind from the opening of the cave caressing his black locks. He looked down in the bag that held the ring, an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Holding the pouch closer to his face for inspection, Eradan glared at the piece of jewelry. Not once on his whole quest had he actually touched the ring. He knew he would fall to its curse as soon as his skin touched the vile thing.

Lowering the pouch to his side, the man's eyebrow ticked as the ring whispered to him, promising him many things if he just kept it. Shaking his head, the man tossed the pouch into the flames.

Three years of pain, sorrow, death, bravery, cunning and will brought him to this place. He had not seen his family in for over a year and he wondered how they would act around each other. Would they be happy? Would they be nervous? Would they even remember how they used to be? Would any of them be the same again?

No. Eradan knew none of them would. Halbarad was already lost to them.

Knowing he should leave, but unable to get his body to obey him, Eradan watched in silent fascination as the bag sunk beneath the surface of the magma. It wasn't too surprising that the bag wasn't simply destroyed. Eradan had, after all, protected it for two reasons.

First was for his own protection: a barrier so he was unable to reach in and pull the ring out if he was tempted.

Second was for the protection of others: the first of the three spells was to make the pouch invisible to all but him. The second spell was to make the area around the pouch seem unimportant so that people would not dawdle near the influence of the ring. The last spell was a failsafe, an enchantment that made any being freeze if they were within a few inches of the bag and reaching for the ring.

However, any protection that had once surrounded the bag and its cargo soon was destroyed by the unrelenting fire. The heat rose, making Eradan's clothing stick to his body with his sweat. A trail of the salty water trailed down his face, falling off his chin to evaporate before the droplet could hit the ground.

The magma began to spurt long tendrils in the air, spitting angrily. Each passing second, the columns of fire grew - or was the magma nearing the platform? Watching with wide eyes, Eradan finally remembered how to move and began to hasten quickly backwards. Frantically, he turned and began to run, his staff held at his side as his bow thumped against his back next to his quiver of arrows. "I just had to forget to lift the protection spells." He raised his voice to yell out to the two hobbits who waited for him outside, "Run!"

There was an explosion of sound, making the whole mountain tremble. Eradan went flying forward, his staff clattering to the ground in front of him. He crawled the short distance to where it had landed. Hoping that Frodo and Sam had listened to him, Eradan tried to stand, but the mountain shuddered, forcing him back to his knees.

Pieces of rock clattered to the ground around him, showering him with dust, clouding his vision. With a cough Eradan looked over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight behind him. The fire that spewed from the bowels of the mountain was intertwined with silvery flecks of magic. His magic.

Looking back at the mouth of the cave, Eradan knew the end had come. He raised his staff above his head, gathering magic from the stones - hard, durable and steadfast. Slamming his staff into the ground, he let the magic flow to the entrance, creating a strong barrier, hoping it would be enough to give the hobbits time to escape.

Even though he knew there was no hope, the man used his staff to help force himself to his feet, swaying with the mountain. He locked his eyes on the spitting fire as he growled, "You will take me, but not easily."

As if responding to that declaration, the mountain stilled for a moment. Eradan centered his weight, staff grasped tightly in his hands, whispering protection spells around himself.

Shrieks came from outside, loud and ringing. Eradan clenched his eyes shut as he concentrated on his words, refusing to cover his ears to protect them from the harsh sound. As the scream died down, Eradan felt the evil magic from outside slowly dwindle to nothing.

Then the shouts of triumph came, ringing around them.

The volcano blew. Flames and molten rock rose above him, his death waiting for him in its midst. Words continued to fall from his lips as he placed most of his weight on his staff, his eyes a vicious green as light surrounded his body.

In one, harsh movement, the tidal wave surged forward, lapping over his shield and towards the mouth of the cave. He turned and watched, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as wave after wave slammed against the barrier that protected the unknowing hobbits.

He trembled, knowing he had a choice. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he pulled his magic from himself. His life-magic. He would not survive, and neither would the Perians if he tried to give himself more time.

Eradan smiled, "Forgive me, Ada, Ammë, Adate." With that, Eradan released his shield and sent it spiraling towards the barrier, reinforcing it so it would hold true, supported with his life and sheer will. As he fell, his eyes dimmed, knowing that the Perians would live. Yet he was never given the chance to hit the ground; he was swept into the arms of the fire and was gone.

Elven words:

Mae l'ovannen! - reverential for "Well met"

Mae g'ovannen! - familiar for "Well met"

Ammë - mother

Adate - grandfather (not cannon)

Ada - father

Henig - my child

Ai! - Oi! or Hey!

Ionneg - son

Mithrandir - Gandalf