Gilraen sat quietly, though impatiently. She had to quell the urge to pace, and instead, examined her surroundings curiously. She was in the Lord Elrond's study, and it was interesting, to say the least.

The room itself was large, and airy; she was in one of the many comfortable chairs arranged precisely in a circle about the fire. No doubt this room was used for private conferences. A wooden shelf ran end-to end on the left side, filled with scrolls, books, and miscellaneous artifacts. Music drifted in from the Hall of Fire, which was connected to this room through a door in the right corner. In the opposite corner sat a desk, bare except for a quill, ink and a single piece of parchment. It seemed almost unused, she thought, and she wondered why.

Gilraen sat for a few moments more before her restlessness finally took hold, and she began to wander about, stopping here and there at an item of interest. What most fascinated her were the artifacts; there were various minuscule portraits, not unlike those she'd seen before, and a variety of small weapons: knives and daggers, decorated grandly with house emblems. There were a few pieces of jewelry, including a ring and a necklace that seemed to be entangled. Without thinking, she reached for them, and began to pull the necklace from the ring.

"I see you have discovered my collection," said a voice behind her, sounding both amused and sad. Gilraen started and looked around; there was an elf standing by the fire.

Lord Elrond.

"My Lord, I did not mean to-"

He held up a hand to indicate silence. "All is well. I meant for you to find them. Come, sit by the fire. We have much to discuss."

He moved closer to the fire, and waited while she crossed the room. As she situated herself, he spoke again. "You love your son."

"I do." Gilraen finally settled herself in a position that would not, she hoped, betray anxiety.

"Would you stay with him?" His grey eyes- so like her husband's!- probed her own.

"Why would there be a need for me to be away from him?" She returned calmly.

"We live in dark times, Lady Gilraen. There may be yet a time when we are all sundered from our kin." Lord Elrond moved to his desk, and, from a place she couldn't quite see, pulled a pouch from within. Dark in color, it was woven intricately, and was held shut by a pull-string. From a distance, she could not determine the design, but as he walked closer, she gasped.

"A grey star! It's of old Numenorean design. "

"It is," he affirmed, and passed it to her. She dropped the ring and necklace into her lap, abandoning them while she examined the pouch.

"The ring and it belong together. The ring you hold is that of Barahir; my son removed it from your husband before they brought him to camp."

"I wondered at its misplacement. It should have been in his saddlebag that they returned to me." Gilraen was not angry, but her tone was sharp. She had recognized the ring not long after she had picked it up.

"They could not afford to lose it."

"I am not a child!"

"You are not," he agreed quietly. "But of what your son?"

"What of him?" she addressed him coldly. She felt assaulted, and confused, as to what Lord Elrond was directing her to.

"Your son has a remarkable gift. Should he have picked up the ring, he might not have been able to make the journey to safety, and all would have been lost."

Gilraen felt again bewilderment. The emotion was becoming all-too-familiar. "My Lord, I am afraid I do not understand."

"I speak of fore-sight." Lord Elrond turned to face the fire, sighing. "Are you familiar with it?"

Gilraen's blood drained from her face. She thought of the hours before she received word of Arathorn's death, her mother's visit, and her son's behavior afterward.

"You do not mean to say my mother passed it on to him?" she asked, astonished. She had not been gifted, a fact which had disappointed her mother, until both women discovered Gilraen's handiness with healing herbs.

"Your mother?" He glanced at Gilraen piercingly.

Gilraen quailed. "She came to visit. She-she told me 'always remember: hope' and then whispered words above my son and kissed his brow."

"Your mother is a gifted woman. I knew she also had fore-sight, but this is remarkable. It may influence what I am about to tell you." Lord Elrond sat in a chair across from the woman, filing away this new information for study later. The desk certainly was used, contrary to its appearance.

"Fore-sight is a gift found among those of Elven blood. It, as its name indicates, is a condition in which is received a portent of the future, either through vision or touch. Elven blood runs strong in Numenoreans, now Dunedain, though the people dwindle. Thus have certain generations been able to prevent your home from being discovered. "

He clasped his hands loosely together. "It tended to manifest in those most sensitive to other people. Your son," he inclined his head towards her, "is certainly charming. Your mother, as well, was receptive to the people around her. She went through many hours of discipline with a friend of mine, before she could learn to control her gift. "

"Does this surprise you?"

"No," Gilraen answered slowly, "it does not." With this information, her confusion was dissipating and certain memories now made sense. Her mother often leaving her with a relative twice a month, and the many times she had to be quiet when her mother suddenly grew still and prayed to the Valar.

"Your mother may simply have drawn the gift to the surface. Visions generally do not occur until well into adulthood, but she may have foreseen something to make her act otherwise."

Gilraen studied the ring idly. Snake and green, snake and green, her mind half-chanted, as a memory replayed itself: a version of her ran to her mother laughing joyfully about her betrothal. "She has acted many times without explanation…Lord Elrond, what will happen to my son? He is but an infant."

"Even if he weren't the only heir, he would stay here, and learn under the same teacher your mother did. However, as he is the sole heir, he must be hidden so entirely that the Enemy can never find him until the time to reclaim the throne has come. "

"Surely you don't mean to make him forget his home?" Gilraen stood indignantly. "I have raised him well- he would not be found!"

"Peace, my Lady. He will not forget. He will only remember when the time is right."

"Ask questions not of the elves, for they will say both yes and no," she said angrily. However, after a few moments of the Lord Elrond watching her, she sat back down. It was downright unnerving.

"If he stays, I will stay," she said firmly. "There is no-one for me to return to. He is all I have left in the world."

Lod Elrond smiled. "I had hoped you would say that. It brings me to the necklace; your mother left that in my safekeeping, many years ago. Send it back; she will know its meaning."

Gilraen squashed the thought that she had been manipulated. Being manipulated by the Elves was surely better than being manipulated by the Enemy. At any rate, she was in a haven, one of the last safe places left.

"I will-" She hesitated. If she was definitely to stay, what would she do? She had sought the Lord Elrond out before, but being occupied with the recovery of two of the most dangerously injured Dunedain, and a leg wound by one of his sons, he had not been readily available.

"Do you have any questions?"

"-as a matter of fact, I do. What can I do here? Your servants provide all you need, and I am not certain I am good enough to aid a craftsman."

The Lord Elrond stood then, and studied her intently. "Do you know of healing lore?"

"Yes, I do, and of all the herbs. My mother and I found that I was adept at healing."

He nodded, satisfied. "I will send Healer Figwit to you, then. He will take you as an apprentice. "

Gilraen nodded as well, feeling suddenly very weary. "My I take my rest, my Lord?" At the affirmative, she went out, feeling a very strong desire to write.

One of Elrond's sons had Aragorn with him today, in an attempt to draw him out of his unusual quiet temperament. Now that they knew the source, they could aid him with it.

Gilraen was thankful for that service, since she could do nothing.

While she waited for their return, she drew forth her writing materials and wrote steadily.

My dear son,

I have an understanding now of why you must be hidden. Lord Elrond did not speak specifically of the dangers, but I know what he means. I must not be stubborn. It will tax my strength, to have you unknown to our people, and our home, but it must be done.

I understand now, too, why you seem so ill. Lord Elrond has discovered you may have the gift of fore-sight. I did not inquire as to how he knows, but to an Elf, perhaps fore-sight is more visible than to a human. I was told once that people gifted so could recognize others similarly gifted…if that were true, would Lord Elrond be gifted also?

I am to work as a healer's apprentice. I am fairly happy, but sad that I cannot return home. My mother is there, but she, I've been told, will take my place. I do not miss her, surprisingly. She is very capable. She has not needed me for some time, as she still has my father. I am separate, now, regardless; custom holds that marriage sunders a woman from her family, which is why I told Lord Elrond you are all I have left. You are, my son. So she has my place, and our home. Our people are in good hands, while they wait for yours.

I will miss most our garden where we played. Here, there are gardens, but none with our special rocks, or the little white star-flowers.

You are returned! I must gift the Lord Elladan. Perhaps a bundle of herbs? Healer Figwit might know...Figwit. What an unusual name. I think I will inquire as to its origin.

I love you, my Estel.

Your loving

Mother

-to be continued-