Disclaimer: I do not own 'Lord of the Rings' or any recognizable characters
and/or places thereof
Author's note: This story is set in early winter. I do not believe Tolkien stated that the events were specifically during any season, however, if he did, I will gladly fix my story to follow canon.
*****
Elladan leaned against the neck of his horse and gazed at the horizon. The last pink glows of day faded in the western sky. Long shadows cast across his path from the trees either side of him. A chill was setting into the night; Elladan knew this although he remained unaffected by it. Soon the Dunedain would move south, rains would fall and snow. It was like to be a heavy snow, the evenings so cold this early in the season.
"Elladan." The aforementioned turned to meet the grey eyes of his brother, riding beside him. Elrohir motioned to the north-east, ahead of he brothers. "Look. Smoke rises not a mile away."
"The Dunedain?" asked Elladan, catching his brother's insinuation. "Of course, who else." He smiled. "We will catch them tonight after all." That very morn the twins left their father's house to seek the Dunedain, to warn them of the increasing number of Orc sightings reported in the area. If not on their guard, the Dunedain were likely to meet an uncomfortable end. So it was that the twins nodded at each other and nudged their mounts to a canter.
Giddy with speed and freedom, the two hardly realized they were racing until a competitive streak tugged within them both. Ducking beneath branches and hurtling fallen logs, they Elves grinned as first one, then the other pulled into the lead. They had not contested against each other in far too long. Despite their age, adults by Elven standards, the enjoyment of a healthy challenge had not yet failed to thrill them.
When their ears alerted them to the close proximity of the Dunedain camp, the Elves slowed to a trot, then a quick walk. At the edge of the camp they stopped and took their feet from the irons, identically dismounting to the horses' left sides. These two were known to the Dunedain and caused little commotion. Around the temporary shelters of tents children played, and adults sat beside cookfires. One young boy struggled to make out the words of a text by the firelight, stammering over especially long terms. It seemed so peaceful, and for a moment Elrohir was taken by this feeling, watching from without, and wished he needed not warn them off approaching ill times.
"Elrohir," his brother said quietly. "You know the options we face. It is best they know." Lest they die, Elladan left not said. "Do you see Arathorn?" They were known well enough to the Dunedain chieftain that they referred to him by his name bereft of titles. Elrohir nodded and Elladan turned to see the Man approaching them. He appeared young for his sixty years, a tail of black hair tied at the nape of his neck showing no signs of silver or grey, blue-grey eyes yet to lose their lively appearance. "Hail Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain!" called Elladan.
"Hail Lords Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond, Lord of Imladris," returned Arathorn, then with a smile shook aside necessary niceties. "It is a joy to see you again, my friends. Yet so often when you come it is in warning, or to aid us in dire moments. Do you bear ill tidings for my people this day?"
"Regretfully," Elladan replied. "Where might we leave our tack? These mounts have served us well, and we owe them a debt."
"Of course," Arathorn replied. "Forgive my forwardness. These may be picketed with our horses to the camp's western edge. Come, I will lead you there."
Following the Man, Elladan inquired, "Are you and your people well, Arathorn?"
"We are," said Arathorn, "and your kin in the valley?"
"We also fare well. Yet yours, as you feared on our arrival, may be in danger," Elrohir returned as the twins saw to their tack.
Arathorn nodded gravely. "Please, tell me more," he said. "I would know our dangers."
"You are a good man for it," Elrohir said. For a moment both twins were silent as they worked, Elladan engaged with a troublesome cinch and Elrohir muttering soothing words to his somewhat antisocial mare. Arathorn stood patiently as they saw to their mounts. At last the twins returned to their mortal friend and ally. "without further ado and with considerable bluntness: the Orcs' numbers are growing," Elrohir stated as the three walked slowly through the encampment. "There have been more than three times the usual number reported near Imladris over the past two years."
Arathorn nodded to this, accepting and considering it. "We will move south soon. Until this time, I will have the night watch doubled. This is indeed most unfortunate." His voice and face conveyed his worry. The Elves were quiet for a moment, walking beside their troubled friend. At last Arathorn asked, "Know you if these Orcs come most from north, east, south or west? I would rethink our route south, were another safer."
"They seem everywhere," Elladan was sorry to report.
"I shall have the guard doubled," Arathorn muttered. "Were you in my position, what would you do?" The Man had never been too proud to ask assistance, something the twins valued in him.
"Exactly what you are doing," Elrohir said. "Be on your guard at all times. Perhaps seek safety within the walls of your kingdom of Gondor when you journey south. Head south as swiftly as possible, though we know not of the situation in the southern lands."
"Thank you for your council," Arathorn said, shaking his head. "Ah." He looked ahead at a pretty woman sitting near to a fire playing with a child, hardly more than a year old. The child seemed to be learning to walk, none too well. "If you will excuse me a moment," Arathorn said to the Elves, and took leave of them. He embraced the woman, whom the twins now recognized as Lady Gilraen, and kissed her cheek, then swept the boy into the air playfully. "Elladan, Elrohir," said Arathorn, returning to his friends. "This is my son, Aragorn." Turning to the boy now held in his arms, he asked, "Aragorn, will you greet Elladan and Elrohir?"
The boy took one look at the Elves and his eyes grew wide. "Greetings," he muttered quickly, lisping slightly, then squirmed to bury his head in his father's tunic. Elladan and Elrohir smiled.
"Greetings from Imladris, little one," Elrohir returned quietly in Elvish. The strange words interested the boy, who peeked out for a moment, then hid his face again quickly.
Arathorn suggested quietly that his son return to his mother for a moment, then set the boy on the ground and watched carefully as he half-walked over to Gilraen. "Forgive his shyness, he is only a child."
"He is a sweet boy," Elladan said. "How many years is he now?"
"Hardly two years," Arathorn said. "He speaks little and walks uneasily, but we hold hope for him yet."
"Yet your woman is again with child?" Elladan could hardly help but ask.
"Well noticed! Not for this reason, however. But come! Will you join us for supper?"
The twins did, enjoying the happy feeling of this family. There was so much love between them, so many easy smiles. Their family, too, had been this way once, and being around this young family made Elladan and Elrohir long for their own mother. Yet by the flickering firelight they slipped into the matrix of these three, and found themselves laughing and smiling easily as days of old. Aragorn hazarded more and more glances at the twins, until at last he fell asleep in his mother's arms.
*****
To be continued
Author's note: This story is set in early winter. I do not believe Tolkien stated that the events were specifically during any season, however, if he did, I will gladly fix my story to follow canon.
*****
Elladan leaned against the neck of his horse and gazed at the horizon. The last pink glows of day faded in the western sky. Long shadows cast across his path from the trees either side of him. A chill was setting into the night; Elladan knew this although he remained unaffected by it. Soon the Dunedain would move south, rains would fall and snow. It was like to be a heavy snow, the evenings so cold this early in the season.
"Elladan." The aforementioned turned to meet the grey eyes of his brother, riding beside him. Elrohir motioned to the north-east, ahead of he brothers. "Look. Smoke rises not a mile away."
"The Dunedain?" asked Elladan, catching his brother's insinuation. "Of course, who else." He smiled. "We will catch them tonight after all." That very morn the twins left their father's house to seek the Dunedain, to warn them of the increasing number of Orc sightings reported in the area. If not on their guard, the Dunedain were likely to meet an uncomfortable end. So it was that the twins nodded at each other and nudged their mounts to a canter.
Giddy with speed and freedom, the two hardly realized they were racing until a competitive streak tugged within them both. Ducking beneath branches and hurtling fallen logs, they Elves grinned as first one, then the other pulled into the lead. They had not contested against each other in far too long. Despite their age, adults by Elven standards, the enjoyment of a healthy challenge had not yet failed to thrill them.
When their ears alerted them to the close proximity of the Dunedain camp, the Elves slowed to a trot, then a quick walk. At the edge of the camp they stopped and took their feet from the irons, identically dismounting to the horses' left sides. These two were known to the Dunedain and caused little commotion. Around the temporary shelters of tents children played, and adults sat beside cookfires. One young boy struggled to make out the words of a text by the firelight, stammering over especially long terms. It seemed so peaceful, and for a moment Elrohir was taken by this feeling, watching from without, and wished he needed not warn them off approaching ill times.
"Elrohir," his brother said quietly. "You know the options we face. It is best they know." Lest they die, Elladan left not said. "Do you see Arathorn?" They were known well enough to the Dunedain chieftain that they referred to him by his name bereft of titles. Elrohir nodded and Elladan turned to see the Man approaching them. He appeared young for his sixty years, a tail of black hair tied at the nape of his neck showing no signs of silver or grey, blue-grey eyes yet to lose their lively appearance. "Hail Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain!" called Elladan.
"Hail Lords Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond, Lord of Imladris," returned Arathorn, then with a smile shook aside necessary niceties. "It is a joy to see you again, my friends. Yet so often when you come it is in warning, or to aid us in dire moments. Do you bear ill tidings for my people this day?"
"Regretfully," Elladan replied. "Where might we leave our tack? These mounts have served us well, and we owe them a debt."
"Of course," Arathorn replied. "Forgive my forwardness. These may be picketed with our horses to the camp's western edge. Come, I will lead you there."
Following the Man, Elladan inquired, "Are you and your people well, Arathorn?"
"We are," said Arathorn, "and your kin in the valley?"
"We also fare well. Yet yours, as you feared on our arrival, may be in danger," Elrohir returned as the twins saw to their tack.
Arathorn nodded gravely. "Please, tell me more," he said. "I would know our dangers."
"You are a good man for it," Elrohir said. For a moment both twins were silent as they worked, Elladan engaged with a troublesome cinch and Elrohir muttering soothing words to his somewhat antisocial mare. Arathorn stood patiently as they saw to their mounts. At last the twins returned to their mortal friend and ally. "without further ado and with considerable bluntness: the Orcs' numbers are growing," Elrohir stated as the three walked slowly through the encampment. "There have been more than three times the usual number reported near Imladris over the past two years."
Arathorn nodded to this, accepting and considering it. "We will move south soon. Until this time, I will have the night watch doubled. This is indeed most unfortunate." His voice and face conveyed his worry. The Elves were quiet for a moment, walking beside their troubled friend. At last Arathorn asked, "Know you if these Orcs come most from north, east, south or west? I would rethink our route south, were another safer."
"They seem everywhere," Elladan was sorry to report.
"I shall have the guard doubled," Arathorn muttered. "Were you in my position, what would you do?" The Man had never been too proud to ask assistance, something the twins valued in him.
"Exactly what you are doing," Elrohir said. "Be on your guard at all times. Perhaps seek safety within the walls of your kingdom of Gondor when you journey south. Head south as swiftly as possible, though we know not of the situation in the southern lands."
"Thank you for your council," Arathorn said, shaking his head. "Ah." He looked ahead at a pretty woman sitting near to a fire playing with a child, hardly more than a year old. The child seemed to be learning to walk, none too well. "If you will excuse me a moment," Arathorn said to the Elves, and took leave of them. He embraced the woman, whom the twins now recognized as Lady Gilraen, and kissed her cheek, then swept the boy into the air playfully. "Elladan, Elrohir," said Arathorn, returning to his friends. "This is my son, Aragorn." Turning to the boy now held in his arms, he asked, "Aragorn, will you greet Elladan and Elrohir?"
The boy took one look at the Elves and his eyes grew wide. "Greetings," he muttered quickly, lisping slightly, then squirmed to bury his head in his father's tunic. Elladan and Elrohir smiled.
"Greetings from Imladris, little one," Elrohir returned quietly in Elvish. The strange words interested the boy, who peeked out for a moment, then hid his face again quickly.
Arathorn suggested quietly that his son return to his mother for a moment, then set the boy on the ground and watched carefully as he half-walked over to Gilraen. "Forgive his shyness, he is only a child."
"He is a sweet boy," Elladan said. "How many years is he now?"
"Hardly two years," Arathorn said. "He speaks little and walks uneasily, but we hold hope for him yet."
"Yet your woman is again with child?" Elladan could hardly help but ask.
"Well noticed! Not for this reason, however. But come! Will you join us for supper?"
The twins did, enjoying the happy feeling of this family. There was so much love between them, so many easy smiles. Their family, too, had been this way once, and being around this young family made Elladan and Elrohir long for their own mother. Yet by the flickering firelight they slipped into the matrix of these three, and found themselves laughing and smiling easily as days of old. Aragorn hazarded more and more glances at the twins, until at last he fell asleep in his mother's arms.
*****
To be continued