A/N: Thank you again to everyone who has been supporting this story! Neiroel, nosmaeth, Lalaith, and GreyLynx, my sincerest thanks yet again for your reviews. To all who have favorited and/or alerted, my thanks to you as well! And to all of my lurkers, thank you for reading, and I hope that you are enjoying the tale!

We have at last come to the end of the tale. This is the final chapter, and I sincerely hope that you all enjoy it. I would love to hear from you, even if it's a simple "I liked it," or even an "I didn't like it." I can only know what I can improve upon if I know what you all, as the readers, like and enjoy, or don't like quite so much. Thank you again for all of your amazing support. I hope you enjoy!

~Epilogue~

Elrond returned to consciousness with aching slowness.

The first thing he was consciously aware of was the pain. His head, his chest, his legs, his side – everything hurt, hurt so badly he could barely breathe. His mind automatically retreated back toward the comforting grey of oblivion, shrinking away from the agony of consciousness.

"-my friend. Come now, awaken. Elrond…"

A groan. It took him a long moment to realize it had come from him. Another groan, although some part of his mind said that it was more of a moan or whimper than a groan.

"Easy there, Elrond. Take it slow."

He opened his eyes slowly, first just a crack. He felt blinded, and snapped them shut again, only to reopen them a moment later. This time, the light was a little more bearable, the grey sky above not seeming quite so blinding.

"There you are." Elrond turned his head ever so slightly, searching for the speaker.

Golden hair, a cheerful grin – despite the fact that his right arm was in a sling, and two neat rows of stitches marching across his forehead – and sparkling blue eyes that hid relief oh so well. "Glorfindel…?" Elrond croaked.

"Easy there, Elrond," Glorfindel cautioned. "You've been unconscious for nearly two days now. Give me a minute, and I'll find you some water."

Glorfindel stood and disappeared from sight, although Elrond could vaguely hear him calling for someone. Elrond took the opportunity to close his eyes and try to think. He could not, for some reason, remember where he was, or what had happened, or, most pressingly, just why he hurt so much.

Glorfindel returned, sitting down cross-legged, and carrying a water skin in his left hand. He uncorked it with his teeth, then carefully held it to Elrond's lips, allowing a thin trickle of water to dribble into his mouth.

Elrond tried to swallow, coughed, and winced in pain. Something most definitely did not feel right in his chest. Glorfindel tried again, this time allowing little more than a few drops to slide past Elrond's cracked lips to moisten his tongue. A few more droplets, then a few more, and then Elrond was able to take a proper drink.

"There," Glorfindel sighed, nimbly stoppering the flask once more.

"What happened?" Elrond asked, voice much improved, but still hoarse.

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows, but he gave no other outward sign of dismay or concern. Instead, after placing the water skin down by his knee, he told Elrond, "We were caught in an avalanche. You were badly injured, me not so much," and here he flashed a roguish grin, to which Elrond could not help but attempt a small smile of his own. "Unfortunately, not everyone was so lucky as us…"

A sudden flash of panic raced through Elrond, igniting his blood with fire and fear. He grappled desperately with his thoughts, trying to place them, to remember what it was that he had forgotten that was giving him such worry.

A little boy, dark curls bouncing, silver-blue eyes dancing. "Estel…" Elrond gasped. "Estel, is he...?" He found that he could not choke out the rest of the words, an unspeakable terror rising in his throat like bile.

"Hope?" Glorfindel asked, confused. "What of hope?" With a sudden flare of understanding sparking in his blue eyes, Glorfindel's face softened, and he reached out to grasp Elrond's hand.

"Elrond," he said softly, "you have been slipping in and out of hallucinations these past two days. Never fear, Hope has not forsaken either of us."

Elrond shook his head agitatedly – a movement he instantly regretted as his head gave a shriek of protest – but he stumbled as he tried to form the words. "No," he stuttered. "A…a boy. A boy named Estel."

Glorfindel frowned. "Do you mean Atanatar? He is safe," he assured his friend, before smiling. "You saved him, actually. If it were not for you, he would have been either frozen or bashed to death. As it is, the worst he has to suffer is mild frostbite on his fingers and toes."

"No…" Elrond mumbled, but even as he shook his head again – still not a very good idea it seemed – he felt his certainty slip away. The image which, for those few moments had seemed so clear, so very vivid and real, were slipping away like smoke through his fingers. "No," he whispered.

Elrond's head fell back against the blankets, and he closed his eyes. His breathing was labored, and somehow he seemed to be in more pain than he had been when he had awoken, if that was possible. He was not entirely certain that it was.

"Hush now, Elrond," Glorfindel murmured. "Sleep. Galchyl will be along soon, and I think if he does not see you at all improved, he very well may turn into a mother Pantheress. You know how he can be." Elrond gave that same, not-quite-there smile, not having the energy to even try to laugh. Glorfindel grinned as well. "I believe Cruston wishes to speak with you as well," he added. "To thank you, I think."

"Volcar?" Elrond asked, eyes still closed, his mind quickly drifting toward the peace of sleep.

"He did not survive," Glorfindel said softly. "They found his remains frozen in the snow yester-morning."

Elrond sighed sorrowfully. He had liked Volcar, who had had a quick wit, and a sharp tongue that seemed to have been made specifically for making puns. Gondor would suffer dearly for having lost one of its best Captains.

"For now, however," Glorfindel was saying, and Elrond resolutely dragged what little remained of his attention back to his seneschal, "that matters little. For now, you must rest. Sleep, Elrond; sleep and recover your strength."

Elrond needed no other urging, and ceased his struggle to stay awake. Within only a handful of seconds, before Glorfindel could even have leaned forward to check that his friend was obeying his command, Elrond had slid into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Above them, the peak shrouded in cloud and gleaming with snow, Caradhras stood silent watch.

~oOo~

The End