Title: Legolas’ Gift
Author: Estel Baggins
This section: chapters 53 through 56, the end of Book II
Rating: still NC-17
Parings, this set of chapters: Elladan/Glorfindel, Aragorn/Legolas, Elrohir/Elladan
Warnings: TWINCEST! Uh, not sure if it’s non-con or rape or half-con… Anyway, sex 
where Elladan isn’t quite sure he wants it; idiocy (not Aragorn for once! Halelujah!)
Summary: The Shadow makes a desperate grab for the elder son of Elrond, the 
Dunedain recover after the civil war, somebody’s pregnant, and Aragorn takes Legolas 
somewhere.
Chapter Fifty-Three
      The white walls of Elladan’s sleeping quarters turned first gold, then pink, and 
finally pearl as the sun rose. The sunlight crept across the room, climbed the bed, and 
warmed the two bodies that lay atop the green coverlet.
      “Mmmmm….” Elladan stretched and blinked. His eyelids felt pleasantly heavy, 
urging him to simply go back to sleep. He rolled over, thinking to kiss Glorfindel once 
before slipping back into reverie. His contented air flew away when he saw the figure 
sitting by the door. He flipped the coverlet over Glorfindel, shielding him, and sat up. He 
didn’t worry about covering himself; the intruder was Elrohir, his brother.
      “Good morning,” Elrohir ventured, smiling a little shyly.
      Elladan shook his head, gestured at Glorfindel and put a finger to his lips. He 
went to his closet, retrieved his dressing-robe and motioned for Elrohir to follow him out 
onto the balcony.
      When they were outside, Elladan closed the doors behind them and turned to face 
his twin. “What is it?”
      Elrohir flushed. “I just… well, I woke up and felt the Shadow, and you said...”
      Elladan waited patiently.
      “You said to come to you,” Elrohir finished. He looked out over Rivendell, his 
hands resting on the balcony’s railing.
      Elladan nodded. “Aye, I said that.” He stepped closer to Elrohir. A sense of 
something dangerous, or at least off, had invaded him. “Why were you watching 
Glorfindel and I sleep?”
      “I… Well, I didn’t want to wake you. And I thought if I covered Glorfindel he 
would wake up and be frightened.”
      That might even be true, Elladan thought. Other truths entered his mind as well. 
“Next time, if you need me, knock and I’ll wake up. If Glorfindel had awoken with you 
sitting there, you would have surely frightened him. Do you understand?”
       “Yes. I’m sorry.” Elrohir’s hands tightened on the railing. “Elladan, can I ask you 
something?”
      “Anything.” Elladan stepped up to the railing beside him and took a similar 
posture, his eyes tracing the unseen border between Rivendell and the forest beyond.
      “How will you know when the Shadow is gone?”
      Elladan frowned. “Can’t you feel it? It’s less than it was, but it’s still here. I don’t 
know if we can drive it out, or if it will only be truly gone when Sauron is destroyed, but 
I’ve amazed you can’t feel it.”
      Elrohir flared, “I can feel it! I only asked….” He trailed off. “Never mind. I get 
it.” Sighing, he turned to face Elladan, a painful smile on his face. “Forgive me, Elladan; 
I shouldn’t’ have disturbed you.” He turned towards the balcony doors.
      Elladan caught his arm. “Elrohir, don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. 
I’m a little bothered that you were watching Glorfindel and I sleep naked. If the Shadow 
came to you last night, that’s something it would have wanted you to do.”
      Elrohir glanced over his shoulder at Elladan. “Oh.” He flushed again.
      “Why don’t we take a walk?” Elladan asked. “A great cure for the Shadow’s 
influence is the natural world.”
      Elrohir smiled. “Do you mind? Will Glorfindel mind?”
      “I don’t, and neither will he. Come on.”
***
      “Shh. Just relax.” Elrohir rubbed Elladan’s back in slow, broad circles. “I want to 
talk to you, but I want you to be relaxed. You’ve been very tense lately, and I know I’ve 
caused a lot of your problems. I want you to understand a few things, but I want to take 
my own time explaining them.”
      Elladan decided it was best to just let his brother talk. He had learned the trick of 
waiting for Elrohir to speak long ago. He’d lost the knack of simply listening- really 
listening, not just hearing- when he had been attacked. Healed again, he was fully ready 
to listen and learn about his brother’s innermost thoughts from his ramblings.
      The bond hadn’t been reforged yet. The twins had gone to their father, and he had 
concluded, after numerous tests, that it would heal eventually, but might take a week or 
as much as a decade to do so. He had cautioned them, his intelligent eyes completely 
clear for the first time in far too long, “Don’t force this. It will not mend if it is tampered 
with.”
      Elladan had begun to listen to Elrohir more and more, searching for his real 
brother like a passionate treasure-hunter. In the weeks since Glorfindel had returned with 
them to Rivendell, Elladan divided his time between his lover, his brother and the man 
who had helped Glorfindel fight off the wraiths. Halbarad was recovering slowly, but he 
never gave up. He spent the days when he was too weak to walk- which were many- 
working his fingers at any number of tasks, from writing to sewing. Soon, Elladan mused, 
he would be ready to handle a knife and start carving.
      “I dreamed I was walking on the Western Sea,” Elrohir said. “The water was calm 
and the sun was hot. Ahead of me, two elves hovered in mid air. Maybe they weren’t 
elves.” His hands worked at the tension at the base of Elladan’s neck. “I think maybe they 
were two of the Valar. But I can’t be sure. They looked like us- like elves, I mean- but a 
glow was wrapped around them, like the glow you get when there’s a candle burning 
behind a thin piece of cloth. Do you understand what I mean?” His hands moved down 
Elladan’s right arm.
      “Aye.”
      “Anyway, they smiled at me and beckoned me to come closer. I stopped a little 
distance from them because I was becoming more and more sure that they were two of 
the Valar, and I didn’t think I had the right to approach them. The closer one- I think it 
was a he, but I can’t be sure- said, ‘Elrohir, it is so good to see you. You have wandered 
long in Shadow. I am glad you were able to find your way back to the light. How do you 
feel?’ I told him- or her- that I was fine, but I also said that I hadn’t found my way back 
alone. ‘My brother Elladan saved me,’ is what I told him, and he nodded. ‘Yes, we know. 
But it is good of you to admit such a thing. It shows that you understand how lucky you 
are to have your brother.’” Elrohir had turned his attention to Elladan’s left arm now. “I 
told him, ‘I know I’m lucky. I would have been totally lost without Elladan.’ Then the 
other Valar spoke, and I was sure that she was female, which probably means the other 
one was male. ‘Elrohir,’ she said, extending her hand, ‘come closer. I must tell you 
something.’ I reached out, and when our fingers touched, I understood everything about 
the universe. I understood Sauron’s plan for Middle-Earth, the Valar’s plan for Arda, and 
even Iluvatar’s plans for creation.”
      He was working now on Elladan’s lower back, and the elder twin was leaning 
forward, placing his hands against a tree so Elrohir could get purchase and work out the 
kinks in his muscles.
      ‘Actually, I don’t feel any sore muscles today, but if it distracts Elrohir so he will 
talk to me like this, so be it.’
      “And I understood a secret about us, Elladan, a secret knowledge that no twins 
have had before.” Elrohir laughed. “Even though I forgot everything else when I woke 
up, I remember that truth. We’re special, Elladan; we’re meant for great things. When are 
the elves supposed to leave these shores for the Undying Lands?”
      “Soon.” Elladan tried to judge the time until their father decreed that they should 
leave. “In the next century, surely. Probably more like in the next fifty years.”
      Elrohir nodded. “In any case, not tomorrow, and not within the next year.”
      “Most likely not.”
      Elrohir’s magic fingers worked at the bottom of Elladan’s spine. “Do you want to 
know the great thing we’re meant for?”
      “Of course.” Elladan smiled.
      “We’re half-elves. We are some of the few that can actually choose to stay here. 
For others, the sea-longing would be too great. And with our gift of choice comes a gift. 
We, Elladan, can choose to sire a new race of elves who could stay here. Middle-Earth 
wouldn’t have to lose its elves.” He laughed suddenly at his own cleverness. “We could 
change the future of Middle-Earth. And think of how happy that would make Estel! 
When he was a child, it frightened him that we would someday leave these shores, never 
to return. Now we wouldn’t have to, and we wouldn’t be the only elves here. We could 
father a whole new generation.”
      He turned Elladan around and urged him to lean against the tree. Elrohir stood 
before him, his eyes sparkling. “Don’t you see how wonderful it would be?”
      “Elrohir… There’s one problem with your plan.”
      “What’s that?” Elrohir grinned.
      “Glorfindel is full elf. Any children we had would be three-quarter-elves and 
would be subject to the sea-longing. And any elf you joined with would also be full-elf. 
I’m sorry, Elrohir, but it was a good thought.”
      Elrohir laughed. “There’s no problem, my dear brother. I know a half-elf, and he 
loves me.”
      Elladan frowned. “Who? The only half-elves I know are Ada, Arwen….”
      Elrohir raised an eyebrow.
      Elladan tried to side-step his brother. “No, Elrohir… We’re brothers… “
      Elrohir’s hands clamped down on his shoulders. “Elladan, it’s perfect. Our 
children would populate Middle-Earth, intermarrying and bringing forth new generations. 
And we don’t even have the problem of deformities showing up in our children, as men 
have. Elves are never deformed!”
      “Elrohir… it’s still not right…. The Valar…”
      “We would never have to see them! Can’t you see? We would never have to set 
foot in Valinor! And even if we did see them, I’m sure they would congratulate us for 
hitting upon such an excellent way to keep elves in Middle-Earth. Think of all the 
beautiful things that will pass when the elves leave. When Grandmother leaves, 
Lothlorien will die. We can keep that from happening. We can bring glory back to many 
of the forests of the world.”
      “But, Elrohir, I don’t love you!”
      Elrohir blinked, his smile faltering. “But… Elladan, we’re brothers. How-”
      “I love you as a brother, not as a lover.” Elladan extricated himself from Elrohir’s 
ever-tightening grasp. “We need to go back now. Maybe Ada can help you fight the 
Shadow…”
      “The Shadow hasn’t visited me.” Elrohir seized Elladan’s wrist. “I came in to 
watch you sleeping naked. I really didn’t want to wake Glorfindel. He already doesn’t 
trust me. In fact, he already knew about my love for you. I wasn’t going to let him stop 
me from approaching you in my own way and at my own time.” Elrohir reached up and 
trailed his fingers over Elladan’s check. “Elladan, I love you, but I don’t want you to run 
away. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to rape you. I won’t force anything on 
you.” He stepped closer and cupped Elladan’s cheek, tilting his head up slightly. 
“Elladan, I would never do anything to hurt you. Haven’t I always tried to look out for 
your best interests?” He closed the distance between them, brushing his lips first over 
Elladan’s cheek, then over his mouth. His hand moved back, cradling Elladan’s head. He 
released Elladan’s wrist and wrapped his arm around the other elf’s waist. “I love you, 
Elladan. I want to be the one to protect you. Is that so horrible? I want to keep you safe 
from the rest of the world. I don’t want anyone to ever hurt you again. And the only way 
I can protect you is by being with you all the time. And what’s more natural than for two 
lovers to spend all of their time side-by-side? Nothing.” He laughed softly. “I have to 
admit that keeping elves in Middle-Earth isn’t my first priority. What I want, more than 
anything, Elladan, is to keep you safe and make you happy.”
      He drew Elladan even closer and darted his tongue out to taste his brother’s lips. 
“Elladan, please say something. I need to know if you will accept me, or if you want to 
wait awhile. Maybe after Glorfindel crosses over the Sea… I could wait that long, 
Elladan. I know you don’t think I’m patient, but I can be. I can wait for you. I’m sure it 
would even comfort Glorfindel to know that you were taken care of by someone who 
loves you.”
      Elladan stiffened and pulled away a little. “No.” He squirmed out of Elrohir’s 
embrace. “No, Elrohir. I love Glorfindel. I will be following him over the Sea. And he 
would never understand your lust for me.”
      “Elladan… it’s not lust, Elladan! It’s-”
      “I don’t care what you call it. Lust or unnatural love or incest or whatever it is you 
call it, I don’t want any part of it. I love Glorfindel, and even if I didn’t, I never wanted to 
love you like that.” He took two steps away from Elrohir, holding up his hands. “I can’t 
love you like that, Elrohir.”
      His twin burst into tears.
      Elladan hesitated, then approached his brother. He put his hands on Elrohir’s 
shoulders. “Elrohir, look at me, please.”
      Elrohir raised his head timidly.
      “I’m not angry with you, Little Brother. We can just forget this, if you’ll only 
agree to understand where I’m coming from.” 
      “The Shadow did come to me, didn’t it?” Elrohir sniffled.
      “I think so, yes. But we can fight it. I’ll help you fight it.”
      Elrohir leaned forward and Elladan wrapped him in a tight hug. “I’ll always be 
here for you, Little Brother. I promise.”
      Elrohir sniffed. “I’m sorry, Elladan. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Or disgust you. 
It’s just… well, that’s what I dreamed. That we would make it possible for a new race of 
elves to live in Middle-Earth forever.”
      “Does that mean you don’t really have any attraction for me?”
      Elrohir burrowed his head into the curve of Elladan’s neck. “Mmmph.”
      “Elrohir…”
      “Mmmpphh.” Elrohir grinned into the soft skin of Elladan’s neck. He smelled his 
twin’s hair and reveled in the scent. His hands slipped down Elladan’s back, stroking 
muscles that were now tense. “Mmmpt.” He licked the sensitive skin beneath Elladan’s 
ear.
      “Elrohir!” Elladan tried to pull away.
      Elrohir’s hands slid don to Elladan’s leggings and tugged them down.
      Elladan jerked backwards. Elrohir kept a tight hold on his leggings, and Elladan 
stumbled and fell flat on his back.
      Elrohir straddled him at once and began to kiss down his brother’s neck. He easily 
trapped Elladan’s wrists in one hand and grasped Elladan’s shoulder with the other.
      “Elrohir, step! Please, Elrohir…”
       “Does it hurt?” Elrohir sat up a little and studied his brother’s flushed face. “If 
you can honestly tell me it hurts, Elladan, I’ll stop.”
      “I don’t like it.”
      Elrohir dipped his head back down and continued his assault on Elladan’s neck, 
marking him. “But it doesn’t hurt. I promised I would never hurt you.”
      “You also promised you wouldn’t rape me!”
      Elrohir sat up, stunned. “This isn’t rape, Elladan. I still have my leggings on. And 
I was only pulling down yours to make you trip. I can even pull them back up, if you’d 
like.” He released Elladan’s shoulder and began to feel along his brother’s thighs for the 
leggings. After a moment, he sighed. “I can see I’m only making you more 
uncomfortable.” He returned to kissing Elladan’s neck, his tongue flicking out to 
occasionally play with Elladan’s earlobe. “Don’t worry, Elladan. I’m not going to rape 
you. By the time we make love, you’ll be more than willing. I would never rape you. Not 
after all that you’ve been through.”
      “But, Elrohir, this… this is…”
      “If you really hated it, Elladan, you would have tried to pull away by now. You 
would be fighting me. You’re not, so some part of you must like this.”
      Elladan twisted under him. “Elrohir, I don’t want to hurt you. Please let go.”
      “We’re on the same ground, then. You don’t want to hurt me and I don’t want to 
hurt you. So why don’t you just lay there and enjoy it? I promise you’ll get your turn. I 
know how much you believe in fairness. And it wouldn’t be very fair for you to get all 
the pleasure, would it?” He nuzzled the side of Elladan’s face, peppering his cheek with 
kisses. “Not that I’m not enjoying this.” He rubbed his groin against Elladan’s.
      They both gasped as their members throbbed.
      “See? I knew you would like this once you got used to it.” Elrohir captured 
Elladan’s lips. “Just lay back and enjoy.”
***
      Elrond asked carefully, “How are you feeling?”
      Glorfindel, sitting on the other side of the large window, could only shake his 
head. “I’m grateful to be a free elf. And I’m grateful that my love with Elladan is allowed 
to exist. Beyond that, I don’t know what you want to hear.”
      “Are you still angry with me?”
      The blond paused. “I don’t know.”
      Elrond nodded his understanding. “I will now support your love.”
      “And I am grateful for that, too.” Glorfindel sipped his light wine. “Thank you for 
trying to help Elladan. You agreed to send Elrohir out, even though one of your sons was 
already missing.”
      “I didn’t agree to anything, Glorfindel. Elrohir left without consulting anyone. In 
those days, his bond with Elladan was so strong that it could reach over thousands of 
miles without losing any clarity… There have been few elves, before or since, that could 
boast that degree of closeness.”
      Glorfindel set his glass aside. “Lord Elrond, will you tell me something?”
      “Yes, if you tell me why you still call me lord.”
      “You are still deserving of that title. This is your House, your Haven. I still 
respect you, even though I’ve stopped submitting to you. There are ways I would still 
submit, if I had to.”
      Elrond raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?”
      The Lord of Imladris wondered, ‘How could I have forgotten how self-possessed 
he was, once upon a time?’
      “If you ordered me to defend Imladris, I would. It is still my home. I would not 
obey you if you ordered me to stop loving Elladan, but I wouldn’t lie to you and try to 
hide my passion from you.”
      Elrond drained his shallow glass. “Would you serve in my house again, as an 
equal, if I offered you a position?”
      “It depends on the position, and if Elladan agreed. I don’t ever want to make him 
uncomfortable.”
      “There was a time when an elf’s station didn’t matter. I would that it were so 
again.” Elrond folded his hands. “Here is my offer. Feel free to decline or accept- even 
conditionally. Become my seneschal. Become Lord Glorfindel once again. I need more 
than one advisor, and as seneschal you would also lead my House’s army in time of war.”
      ‘There isn’t likely to be another war before we leave these shores, so what he’s 
offering is largely a bureaucratic position. Still, I would have my rank back, and be 
Elladan’s equal in title as well as in heart.’
      “Granted that Elladan will agree, I accept.”
      Elrond smiled. “Perhaps you are not so angry with me after all.”
      “Perhaps. But anger is different than trust. I hope this new office will help me to 
learn to trust you as I once did.”
      Elrond grimaced suddenly, his hand going to his temple. Then his head snapped 
up. “Sauron seeks entrance here,” he whispered in a fell voice. Then his eyes focused and 
he saw how still and stiff Glorfindel had become. “What is it?”
      “He is with Elladan.” Glorfindel tried to stand and failed. Tried again, failed.
      Elrond rose and grasped Glorfindel by the shoulders. “Who is with Elladan?”
      Glorfindel’s breath came in short gasps. “Elrohir… Sauron… both…”
      “Attend me, Balrog Slayer!”
      Glorfindel jerked as if slapped. He blinked, then pulled away from Elrond.
***
      Elrohir ran his tongue over his bottom lip while he fully loosened the lacings of 
his brother’s britches. “I love you, Elladan.” His smile could have enchanted wood.
      “I know.”
      “Do you love me, Elladan?”
      Elladan blinked and tried to turn his head away.
      “Now, now, Elladan, none of that. I want to have a meaningful conversation with 
you.” Elrohir leaned forward and brushed his lips against Elladan’s cheek. His twin 
blinked, then met his gaze. “That’s better. Don’t you feel better, safer, when you’re 
looking at me?”
      “Yes. But, Elrohir, I’m afraid.”
      “Of what, dear heart?”
      “Of Him. Sauron. Won’t he hurt me? I know He walks here, and I don’t want 
Him to find me…”
      “Even if the Dark Lord found you, dear one, I promise He wouldn’t hurt you. I 
wouldn’t let Him. You’re too precious to me.” Elrohir laughed and turned his eyes back 
to his work. “Honestly, Elladan, who do you trust more: yourself or me? I know all about 
Sauron, all about evil. I’m the one who rescued you, right?”
      “Yes.” Elladan sighed and parted his thighs.
***
      Both of them could see and feel the shadows gathering in the clearing. Oppressive 
and rank, they oozed like a spattered frog.
      At the clearing’s edge, Elrond lifted his ring, his eyes focused on the two 
indistinct forms that lay in the heart of the living darkness.
      Glorfindel caught his arm. “Wait,” the blond mouthed. He placed his hand over 
Elrond’s and closed his eyes. ‘Take my strength,’ he prayed. ‘Whatever is in me, take it. 
Lend it to the ring. There isn’t enough strength here from just Elrond. Take my strength 
and let the ring combine it with its own power. Let each magnify the other.’
      Glorfindel opened his eyes. “Now,” he mouthed.
***
      “I’m sorry, Elrohir. I didn’t mean to doubt. It’s just….”
      “You’ve been afraid and uncertain for so long. I know. Now all your confusion 
will stop. You will understand everything. And you will never be in danger again.” As 
the lacings finally parted, Elrohir ran his tongue out over his lips again. “Elladan, you’re 
so beautiful. I can understand why the men wanted you. And I can understand why they 
hurt you. Do you know why they hurt you?”
      “No… Please, Elrohir, I don’t want-”
      “You were too stunning. You entranced them, made them jealous. They had to 
make you as ugly as themselves. Now you don’t have to worry, do you? I look like you, 
so I won’t be jealous.” He trailed his fingers over Elladan’s flaccid member. “Aren’t you 
excited, Elladan?”
      “Not… not yet. It’s just…”
      “You’re still afraid.” Elrohir sighed. “My poor, helpless Elladan.” He lowered his 
head and kissed the head of Elladan’s elfhood.
      His brother panted and wriggled.
      “Again? Do you want that again?”
      Elladan turned his head away. “I…”
      “Elladan, look at me.” Elrohir sat back on his heels and grasped his twin’s chin. 
“Don’t turn away from me. All that’s out there is darkness. Stay here with me. There’s 
nothing waiting for you out there.”
      Elladan squeezed his eyes shut. “But, Glorfindel…”
      “He isn’t here. Look at me. Now.”
      Elladan bit his lip. “Elrohir, I’m afraid.”
      “If you ever want to lose your fear, look at me.” Elrohir kissed him gently on the 
cheek, then, turning Elladan’s head with a little effort, he captured his victim’s lips. 
“Please, Elladan, trust me. I-”
      Blinding light, brighter than a falling star, enveloped them both then, and the 
twins passed out, Elrohir slumping forward on top of his brother.
Chapter Fifty-Four
      As the eastern sky grew light, Kehydi kissed the top of Saru’s head. His lover 
stirred, murmured something and settled again. One hand rested on his belly, and the 
other was curled under his fair cheek. He was pressed close to Kehydi.
      “I love you, my Saru.”
      “Aye, and he loves you, but when has that ever saved you?”
      Kehydi, badly startled, pulled away from Saru and sat up. There was a figure 
silhouetted near the tent flap. Strangely, Saru slept on.
      “Who are you?” Kehydi felt in vain for his knife.
      “I am Saru’s master. I have come for him.”
      “He’s free now.” Kehydi stood, wanting to stay between the stranger and his love.
      “He belongs to me. I tried to buy him back, but your father wouldn’t let me. Give 
him to me now, and this doesn’t have to become a problem.” The man’s smile gleamed in 
the dim light. Still, Kehydi couldn’t see his face clearly. “Besides, you don’t want such a 
child as his diseased, abused body will bring forth. The men of Gondor- those that claim 
lineage from Elendil, and those that hide that connection- are cursed to bring forth 
children that resemble their nature. Their women are blessed; their children, at least, can 
turn out to be whatever they are raised to be. But the children of men are parasites, 
reading their fathers’ souls to learn what to be. Saru has seen scarcely more than agony 
since he was born. You do not want to see the child borne of misery. It is a foaming, 
skinless, howling thing.”
      The stranger took a step, and finally his face came into the light. He wore an 
imperious, confident expression, and his eyes shone. “Let me take him. I will kill the 
child and ensure that he bears no others.” Another step, and he was within lunging 
distance. “Let me help him. He will only suffer when the child is born. He prizes it so. Do 
not let him suffer.”
      Kehydi, cursing himself for not being able to find his weapons, raised his fists and 
established himself more firmly between the two. “Stay away from him.”
      “All I want to do is help. Surely you can see that. Surely you want what is best for 
your Saru.” The stranger drew a thin knife. “Let me end this for him, and he will never 
have to know of the monster that thrives inside him.”
      Weaponless, Kehydi did the only thing he could. He whistled.
***
      “Fwooiitt! Fwooiit!”
      Aragorn snapped awake. He had only gone to bed an hour before, but he felt none 
of the exhaustion that had plagued him since the death of so many of his people. He was 
out of bed, sword in hand, and emerging from the tent before his mind caught up with his 
body. As he ran, he registered that there were others beside, behind, and in front of him. 
He saw Malacai duck into the tiny tent, which was given to Legolas and Saru for their 
disastrous, but mercifully short-term wedding. Kehydi had asked and been given 
permission to stay there with his soon-to-be husband.
      An instant later, Aragorn charged in. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim 
morning light that had managed to filter in. Kehydi had stopped whistling, and he sat 
with his arms tightly folded across his chest. His face said clearly that he was confused 
and afraid. Saru sat close beside him, but not touching him, even though his hands 
twitched with a need to do just that.
      Aragorn ducked back out and calmed the Dunedain who had appeared in response 
to the alarm. He wanted to give Malacai a moment with his sons. Two minutes later, the 
others headed back to their tents. Annaleh had arrived, and had slipped inside. Then 
Legolas appeared, and he stood a little apart from Aragorn. He fidgeted.
      For another five minutes, Aragorn waited outside. He could only hear low 
murmuring from inside.
      At last, Saru appeared at the tent’s mouth. He glanced first at Aragorn, then at 
Legolas.
      “Saru, if you need me-” Legolas began.
      The young man chewed his lip. “I need answers.” He looked at Aragorn timidly. 
“Please, I need to ask you…” He swallowed.
      Legolas crossed to where Saru stood and took his hand. “Saru, it’s all right. I’ll go 
with you if you want.”
      Saru nodded, relieved.
      ‘He still doesn’t completely trust me,’ Aragorn realised as he led the way back to 
his tent. His mind wanted to jump to all his Dunedain who hadn’t trusted him, but 
Aragorn forced himself to only think about the present. ‘I must find a time to grieve, but 
that time is not now.’
      Once inside, Legolas guided Saru to Aragon’s pallet, urging him to sit. Aragorn 
didn’t say anything. He took a position standing along the opposite wall. He felt an urge 
to light his pipe and resisted. Saru deserved his undivided attention.
      “What do you know about me?” Saru asked. He was holding Legolas’ hand, and 
his eyes were focused on a point over Aragorn’s shoulder.
      Aragorn didn’t ask what he meant; it was obvious, to him, at least, that Saru 
wanted to know about his past. About his childhood. Aragorn couldn’t say how he knew 
this; it was simply instinct.
      “I know you were bought in Nennid, but that’s not where you come from. Your 
name means ‘sunset-hair’ in the language of Harad. That, along with the bow you showed 
Malacai the first time I saw you convinced me that you came from far in the south, 
though probably not from Harad itself. And if I wasn’t convinced already, your fear 
would have proven it. The Haradrim are… cruel to their slave in general. Especially to 
those they steal from other lands.”
      “I don’t know where I was born.”
      “I don’t doubt it. I don’t know where I was born, either. Here in the North 
somewhere, but I don’t have a better idea than that. “
      “You were born here in the camp,” Legolas objected. “Pregnant mothers aren’t 
taken out of here when-”
      “My mother was traveling when she gave birth to me. She never told me where, 
or why, only that she wasn’t here.” He smiled sadly. “Saru, I know where you were born, 
and I have a pretty good idea why you were taken, or at least by whom.”
      “How can you?” demanded Legolas.
      Aragorn didn’t look away from Saru. “You’re pregnant, Saru. That is supposed to 
be impossible for all males except elves, perhaps a few dwarves, and those that are 
descended from Elendil. But even so, a man giving birth is still a rarity. You have 
Numenorean blood in your veins, and surely more than just a drop of it. You were almost 
certainly raised in or around Minas Tirith.” He smiled. “We’re very distantly related, 
Saru, you and I…”
      Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment, then gazed at Saru once more. “Around the 
time you were born, there was a massacre in the second level of Minas Tirith. Twenty-
seven soldiers were killed. Their wives and children were either meted like treatment or 
taken as slaves. I think you are one of those people. Coinciding with this attack was the 
formation of a new style in Harad. Men were considered prosperous if they not only had 
many slaves, but slaves who seemed to be from many different places. Red hair was an 
uncommon thing in the south- it still is- and so that could explain why you were allowed 
to live.” 
      Shaking his head, Aragorn added, “You might call this all a guess, and you’d be 
right… but it’s not an uneducated one, and it feels true. Call it instinct if you like.”
      Saru refused to meet Aragorn’s gaze.
      Legolas shifted uneasily on the pallet.
      “Is there any truth to the belief that the children of male Numenoreans are 
deformed?”
      Legolas blanched. “No!” He stopped and glared at Aragorn. ‘Tell him it isn’t true! 
I don’t know where he heard it, but tell him it isn’t true!’
      “Sometimes that is true.”
      Saru dropped his head into his hands. His shoulders were shaking. “Then you 
should stop the pregnancy now before my babe suffers. And before Kehydi suffers.”
      Aragorn strode forward and lifted Saru to his feet. Gently, he moved Saru’s hands 
from his face. “Please listen to me, Dunadan.” When Saru was looking at him, Aragorn 
continued, “It is true that what lives inside us shapes our children, but it is not what is in 
our minds or hearts that chooses the shape. It is our essential nature. And your nature, 
Saru, is loving, forgiving and hopeful. Your child will be a beauty.”
      “But if it is Halbarad’s child…” Saru burst into tears.
      Aragorn drew him close, rocking him slightly. “Your nature determines the 
child’s appearance, Saru. The father of the child has nothing to do with it. Nothing. I 
know your baby will be beautiful, inside and out.” He rubbed Saru’s back. “Please 
believe me, Saru.” He held Saru at arm’s length. “Look at me please, Dunadan.”
      Saru raised his head.
      “The baby is yours, Saru. Yours and Kehydi’s. When I return from taking Legolas 
to Mirkwood, I will marry the two of you, and you alone will take care of your baby. 
Even if Halbarad was here, and even if he wanted the baby, he gave up all claim to your 
child because he raped you. All will call this baby yours and Kehydi’s. Do you 
understand?”
      Tears still trickled down Saru’s cheeks. “Do you… mean it?”
      “I swear it.”
      Saru turned to Legolas, wanting to share his joy. Legolas met him halfway and the 
two embraced.
      After a moment, Legolas pulled back a little so he could look at Aragorn over 
Saru’s shoulder. “I want to be here when they’re wed. I can wait another few days to go 
home.” He frowned slightly. “Besides, don’t you have to dissolve my marriage to Saru?”
      Aragorn blushed at that, but nodded. “Aye, you’re right. I have to do that. If there 
are no objections, I will take care of both ceremonies at once.”
      Saru nodded. He was wiping away his tears. “They both have to be public, right?”
      “Yes.”
      Saru looked at Legolas, then asked, “Aragorn… I need to…”
      “I’m going to go help Malacai explain things to Kehydi.” Aragorn left.
      When they were alone, Saru took Legolas’ hand and guided him back to the 
pallet. “Are you angry with me?”
      The elf blinked. “No! Why should I be?”
      “I’m going to be with Kehydi. I’m leaving you.” Saru smiled weakly. “I know 
how stupid that sounds, since we didn’t want to be together in the first place, but… I 
don’t want you to think I can’t wait to get away from you. It’s just…”
      “You love Kehydi. What’s wrong with that? Saru, I don’t need to be with 
someone to be happy. I know that’s not how it works with you and Kehydi, but that’s 
how I am. I’ll be all right.” His smile was a little unconvincing.
      “Do you still love Aragorn?”
      Legolas looked away.
      “I’m not going to ask again, Legolas. I only want you to think about your 
answer.” Saru stood. “Will you come with me? I want to check on Aaron, make sure he’s 
on the mend… And I want to say a prayer for Mordecai.”
      Legolas stood, his face troubled. He followed Saru out of the tent.
***
      Annaleh placed her hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. Kehydi and Malacai were still 
talking about Kehydi’s dream, but the younger man at least now understood that his child 
wouldn’t be a monstrosity.
      “You need to talk,” she said when Aragorn looked at her.
      “Nay, I’m well.” He smiled at her. “All is well, Annaleh. Do not worry about me. 
Go be with your husband and son.”
      “Go back to your sewing. Be a good woman and go cook something.” She glared 
at Aragorn. “You need to talk and I won’t be put off.”
      “I’ll talk to Malacai later.”
      “No you won’t. You can’t say what you need to say to him. You can’t say it to a 
man. I don’t understand why, but I know that much. Speak your mind to me before you 
are forced to unburden yourself on someone who can’t handle it. I see the grief in your 
eyes, Aragorn, and I’m not going to let this go. We all fought too hard to just fall apart.” 
She seized Aragorn’s arm and marched him through the camp. She marched him to his 
tent, thrust the flap aside, and shoved Aragorn inside. She followed close behind him and 
pointed at the pallet. “Sit.”
      “Annaleh-”
      “SIT!!”
      Aragorn obeyed, but he wouldn’t give her what she really wanted without a fight. 
“So tell me what you want to hear.”
      “Don’t play innocent or stubborn with me. You have just lost over half your 
people, and you have the balls to sit there and fence with me?” She stalked forward and 
slapped Aragorn smartly across the face. “You will tell me everything now, or I will have 
to force it out of you.” She smiled. “You don’t want that, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. 
Believe me.”
      He did. He had, after all, no choice. He held out a hand towards her, and she took 
it, kneeling in front of him. Aragorn leaned slightly forward, resting his head on her 
shoulder. He wept.
      Annaleh held him close while he trembled. She listened to his almost soundless 
sobs, and thought that Aragorn’s grief was more heart-wrenching because he was trying 
to stifle its sound. And she hoped no one would seek him out until he was ready. ‘After I 
convinced him to let go, I doubt if he would ever forgive me if someone came in and saw 
him broken and helpless like this.’
      Aragorn began to murmur garbled prayers, songs and benedictions through his 
tears. Annaleh wasn’t even sure if he realised he was talking. Again and again, in Elvish 
as well as in the Common Speech, he begged for forgiveness. He directed these pleas to 
the Valar, to Gandalf, to his Dunedain, both living and dead, and to Legolas.
      “Mordecai, if only I could have saved you… I’m sorry I was too weak. Thank you 
for saving me, Dunadan… Can you forgive me? Nay, I think not yet, but please consider 
it.” And, in Elvish, “Iluvatar, I have never deserved mercy or forgiveness or love. But my 
Dunedain deserve peace, so please help me hold together. I can’t abandon them. Pretend 
to forgive me, if you will, and I will pay everything back and more for the mercy you 
show the Dunedain by that act. Help me help them.” And, in the Common Speech once 
more, “Legolas, I will find your parents. Please don’t let my fuckery destroy you. I’m 
sorry I took everything away from you. I’m giving back all I can. I’m sorry, Legolas.”
      Annaleh listened and rocked him. She let a few of her own tears fall, but she had 
been crying all week. There was still an edge to her grief, but she was able to keep herself 
in check as Aragorn mourned.
      ‘I’m sure he didn’t even cry at night, fearing that he might be heard, or that 
someone would come in. Or that he wouldn’t be able to make himself get up in the 
morning.’
      Gradually, Aragorn’s tears eased. He didn’t draw away from her until he had 
regained control of his breathing. Slowly, he sat up, looking at her, his face unguarded. 
She saw the grief lining his features. ‘He is much older now than before he wept.’
      She took both of Aragorn’s hands in hers. 
      “I don’t see how I can possibly ever leave my family,” he said. “I know I must, 
for their good as well as my own, but I can’t see how.”
      “We will help you leave when the time is right.”
      Aragorn laughed, then scrubbed his hand across his face.
      “That won’t do any good, Strider, and you know it. Go wash your face.”
      He rose, moving towards the pitcher of water that sat by a shallow bowl in the 
corner. Without looking at her, he said, “I hate myself.”
      “That’s natural, but it will pass. We don’t hate you. Never forget that.”
      Aragorn splashed water over his face, sighed, and turned back to her. He smiled. 
“You are wise, Annaleh. Wiser than I will ever be.”
      She stood. “Nay, Aragorn. Someday, you will be known as the King of Men, and 
none with remember me. You will gather the wisdom of all people to yourself, and the 
few things I know will seem like leaves in a forest.”
      Aragorn bowed to her. “I am honored to call you one of my people.”
      She raised him up and kissed his cheek gently. “I am honored to have lived to see 
the days of your leadership.” She smiled. “Now I will go to my husband and son. And 
you will go hunting. Take Jamien with you. He has some things to say.”
      Aragorn nodded, and she went out.
***
      “I overreacted.”
      Malacai didn’t deny it.
      “I terrified him. I hurt him when he is so fragile.”
      “Saru is stronger than you think.”
      “That doesn’t give me the right to test him!” Kehydi exclaimed.
      “What would you do now/” Malacai asked. “Now that you know it was a dream, 
and that it will not affect Saru’s child?”
      “I want to go to him, but…”
      “You need to ask me something.”
      Kehydi smiled. “How can you read my mind?”
      “You’re my son; it’s my job. Now ask.”
      “I… I want to know if Saru will ever be truly at peace. I feel sometimes- most of 
the time- that he has been hurt too deeply to ever heal. I love him, but…” Kehydi looked 
to his father for help.
      Malacai waited patiently.
      “But I don’t know if I can spend the rest of my life taking care of him. I want… I 
want an equal relationship. When this baby’s born, will I have two children to look after? 
I know it’s unfair, but I can’t bear the thought that we will never be equal. He will always 
look to me, and I will always have to be the strong one. I won’t ever be able to show my 
weakness without fearing that I will lose him.” He shook his head. “And yet, I cannot 
abandon him. He would die without me.” He cast his father a dark look. “Did you know 
he has tried to commit suicide? He admitted it to me when I asked how he survived 
Halbarad.”
      “Why did you ask him to recall and tell about such a painful thing?”
      “Well… I was curious! I wanted to know if my lover had healed. I wanted to 
know…” Kehydi blushed. “I wanted to know if he ever liked Halbarad touching him.”
      “Did he?”
      “Once, yes. Halbarad made him feel good. Saru admitted it to me, telling me he 
was sorry and that he would make it up to me… and that was when he thought seriously 
about suicide. He told me he went so far as to put the rope around his neck.” Kehydi 
grimaced. “I’m angry at him for even thinking something that… that selfish! Is that 
wrong?”
      “Does Saru know it was selfish?”
      “He… well, he said he couldn’t kill himself because he didn’t want to leave me.”
      “He knew, then. And obviously he must have loved you.”
      “How do you know?”
      “He decided to suffer rather than leave you. He must have loved you.”
      “Does he still?”
      “I don’t think Saru can stop loving, Kehydi. It’s impossible. Even if he never saw 
you again, or if the two of you parted badly, he wouldn’t stop loving you.”
      “Then I have to love him back. I can’t just leave him alone.”
      Malacai shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. If you don’t love Saru, or 
think that you won’t be able to live with his faults, you should stop this now. Before you 
have the formal contract of marriage between you.”
      “Then I should tell him it’s over.”
      “Stop looking to me for answers! You’re a man now, Kehydi. Someday, you will 
take my place at Aragorn’s side.”
      “He won’t outlive you,” Kehydi protested.
      “Yes he will. I have already seen it.”
      Kehydi was reminded of Saru’s vision. Saru hadn’t seen his father in the camp in 
front of Gondor’s walls.
      Malacai sighed. “And even if I am wrong- and it is possible; I am no seer- you 
will serve Aragorn’s son as I have served Aragorn. You need to be ready for that day. If 
nothing else is sure, this is: I will die. Men do not live forever. Our Doom or Gift is to 
take what we can and then to uncouple from this world.”
      “You make it sound almost noble.”
      “And perhaps it is. But I’m not here to discuss death with you. What are you 
going to do about Saru?”
      “How long do I have to decide?”
      “Not long. And this isn’t a decision that requires lengthy contemplation. Tell me 
what your heart says, and don’t censor it.”
      “I don’t want to take care of him for the rest of my life.”
      “Is that your final word?”
      Kehydi gulped. “Yes.”
      “Then you must tell him. You must be clear and you must be honest.”
      “Will he recover from this? What he tries to kill himself again?”
      “He has a child, his ‘babe’ as he calls it. He won’t die.”
      Kehydi stood. “I should find him.” He chewed his lip, glanced at his father’s 
impassive expression, then left.
      Malacai groaned and put his hands over his face. He bit his lip so hard that it bled. 
‘I couldn’t persuade him. I couldn’t tell him to stay with Saru no matter what I think. 
Saru deserves joy, but Kehydi is a man now. I can’t tell him what I believe.’ Shaking his 
head, he added, ‘I’ll try to encourage Aaron to take Saru under his wing. Maybe he will 
even come to love Saru as a son or-’ Malacai didn’t allow himself to flinch away from 
the thought- ‘a freed slave who still needs that master-slave relationship.’
      He sighed. ‘Maybe I was right to think that the Valar created some who must be 
slaves, and some that must be free. I wouldn’t bring slavery back for anything, and most 
slaves aren’t meant to be slaves, but maybe Saru would feel safer being protected in that 
capacity.’
      He stood. ‘Should I ask Aragorn? Could he help me? No. This is Kehydi’s 
decision. It’s high time he started taking responsibility for himself.’
***
      Saru closed his eyes and laid his hands on the strong young sapling beside which 
Mordecai’s ashes had been buried. ‘You brought so much hope to the Dunedain. Thank 
you for saving Aragorn. Thank you for speaking for me at the council. Thank you for 
saving my life when I almost froze to death. May you find peace where you rest, and 
know that many miss you, but none here doubt your honor or your courage. Thank you, 
Mordecai, for all you gave to your brother, to his wife, and to his son. Thank you for 
making them happy. Please know that we love you. You have earned a place among the 
honored dead. May the Valar bless you and keep you in comfort and in joy.’
      A little distance away, Legolas was watching the leaves of a tall elm playing in 
the wind. He listened to their rustling, but it brought him no comfort this day. Instead, it 
sounded to him like the angry whispering of vindictive spirits. This place, though open, 
sunny and beautiful, was still a graveyard. Suddenly, Legolas was glad he had never 
confessed his love to Aragorn. ‘I would have to watch him grow old, grow weak, lose his 
sight, his hearing… even his mind.’ He shivered. ‘The sooner I get out of here and back 
to an elven kingdom, the better.’
      Memories of the night he’d spent alone in Rivendell made Legolas shiver, but he 
refused to think on it. To distract himself, Legolas turned and gazed at Saru, who was 
now kneeling by the tree. For no reason he could understand then, Legolas thought, ‘I see 
no happy ending to this.’
      ‘There doesn’t have to be a happy ending,’ spoke up a familiar voice in his mind. 
‘There only have to be small victories. If you’re looking for the big ones: the blowing 
trumpets, the parades, the weddings, the unbroken promises, you’ll miss the small 
triumphs.’
      ‘Get out of my mind, Aragorn.’
      ‘I can’t. I am asleep right now, and I can’t leave when I want. Either I have to 
wake up, or this connection has to break.’
      ‘Did you make it?’
      ‘No. Yes. Not intentionally.’ Aragorn sighed. Legolas could almost see him 
rubbing his hand over his face in exhaustion. ‘Any bond that exists between us was 
made… before.’
      ‘When I was still a slave, you mean.’
      ‘Yes, if you wish to put it that way. The bond isn’t something either of us 
consciously created, and we can’t control it. If we worked together, we would learn to 
activate and deactivate it. But we won’t likely have the time. I’ll be taking you home as 
soon as Kehydi and Saru are wed.’
      ‘Aragorn?’
      ‘Yes?’
      ‘Do you really think Saru is from Gondor?’
      ‘Yes. The vision and his pregnancy are almost conclusive evidence… Legolas?’
      ‘What?’
      ‘Thank you for going with Saru.’
      ‘Why shouldn’t I? And why should it matter to you?’
      ‘I do love Saru, you know. Like you, he didn’t deserve the suffering he endured.’ 
Again, Aragorn sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t intrude if you want to talk to him. Hopefully, 
this will break soon and I will be out of your way.’
      Legolas was tempted to think that Aragorn’s tone was either defeatist- because of 
the loss of his Dunedain- or deceiving as he sought pity. But as Aragorn fell silent, 
Legolas sensed the man’s deep physical and emotional exhaustion.
      ‘How long has it been since you really slept?’
      Aragorn shrugged; Legolas felt it. ‘I haven’t slept more than an hour at a time 
since the… well, since the battle.’
      ‘You wanted to say civil war.’
      ‘Aye, I did. But you don’t need to worry about my demons, Legolas.’ Again, 
Aragorn tried to retreat.
      ‘Stop! Talk to me. You’re still getting rest, right? This isn’t wearing you out?’
      ‘True.’
      ‘You need to understand that I can feel your very strong thoughts and feelings. 
Can you feel mine?’
      ‘Yes.’
      ‘How long were you listening to me before you interrupted?’
      ‘I felt how uneasy you were. Where are you?’
      ‘Saru is saying a prayer for Mordecai.’
      Pain washed over Aragorn and Legolas winced. ‘Will you tell Saru I’m grateful, 
please?’ the Ranger asked.
      ‘Yes....’
      ‘What is it?’
      ‘I just remembered something. Do you remember saving Halbarad’s soul back 
before we joined you in Lothlorien?’
      Aragorn’s puzzlement was evident. ‘No. How could I? I didn’t see him until 
then.’
      ‘Yes you did. You spoke through me.’ Swiftly, Legolas told Aragorn of 
Halbarad’s attacks on the road to Lothlorien, filling in the places Malacai hadn’t spoken 
of. ‘You told me not to explain things until it was time.’ He smiled. ‘If it is not time yet, 
you will have to forget all I have said.’
      Aragorn chuckled.
      ‘You said you will always be in my debt,’ Legolas added.
      ‘Aye, and so I always will be. When we meet again, years from now, I will cast 
myself on your mercy, and tell you that my debt will never be repaid.’
      Legolas sensed Aragorn was fading. He said, ‘I am in your debt, too.’
      ‘I love you, Legolas. I will always love you. Maybe there will be a day I can 
burden you with answering me. But that is not this day. For now, know that I love you as 
a brother, as a son, as one of my Dunedain.’
      Legolas was jolted rudely out of the connection, and he blinked. Saru was still by 
the tree. He was just rising to his feet. Legolas reached up and felt the wet trails on his 
cheeks. And he was grateful Aragorn didn’t want him to answer, because he couldn’t.
Chapter Fifty-Five
      Elrond glanced up. Someone was knocking on his study door. ‘Glorfindel, 
perhaps, come to tell me that they have awoken.’ He rose. “Enter.”
      The man in the doorway bowed to him. “Lord Elrond, I am compelled to share 
news with you.”
      Elrond almost smiled at the Ranger’s formality. True, not many of the Dunedain 
had been past his borders in the last forty years, but that didn’t mean such cautious 
speech was needed. ‘Or perhaps it is not their long absence that makes him careful. 
Perhaps my own countenance forebears him.’ Elrond took a better look at Halbarad and 
nodded. ‘Yes, that is what weighs on his heart.’
      “Come, Dunadan, sit.”
      Halbarad approached. “With all due respect, my Lord Elrond, do not call me 
Dunadan. That is a title I am not yet worthy of. Only my chief can restore it to me.”
      ‘The Rangers did always thrive on ceremony. Just as elves do. And maybe men 
have a better reason for it. When your life in gone in an instant, and every moment seems 
to change it unalterably, a little consistency in the form of ceremonies and rituals is 
probably a good idea. Even necessary.’
      “I understand, Halbarad. What can I do for you?”
      “I need you to know something.” Halbarad leaned forward in the chair. “Have 
you noticed that it takes a long time for anyone to heal here?”
      ‘I’ve noticed that this is the first time I have seen you out of bed for any extended 
period of time. What did it cost you to walk here? And what is it causing you to sit 
upright in that chair?’
      “Different races heal at different rates, Halbarad.”
      “But it is taking far too long.”
      “It may seem so to you, but that is only your impatience-”
      “I’m not talking about me.” Halbarad frowned. “Aragorn used to tell the story of 
his first broken bone. He was four years old and fell-”
      “Out of a tree. Yes.” Elrond steepled his fingers and concentrated on looking 
politely interested while his mind drifted to his sons.
      “He used to say that he was up and walking, his bone almost mended, within two 
weeks. Is that true?”
      Elrond raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it’s true. Please, Dun- Halbarad, make your 
point. I have much on my mind.”
      “Can’t you see my point? If it only took Aragorn two weeks to heal, why is it 
taking me so long? More importantly, why is it taking your sons so long? And why does 
the Shadow prey on Lord Glorfindel? And why do the elves scarcely sing?”
      “Do you think you have the answers to these question, or are you only trying my 
patience?”
      Halbarad refused to flinch. “I said I was here to share news with you. Here is my 
report, my Lord Elrond. You are letting the Shadow into Rivendell. You are fighting it 
once it is here, but you are not actively trying to keep it out. You let it get a foothold, then 
you try to pry it loose.
      “Why do you think it only took Aragorn a little while to heal when he was 
younger? You tried to help him. You drove the pain away, then began to heal the bone. 
You didn’t just sit back and wait for it to heal on its own. If you had, he wouldn’t have 
walked within a month, let alone two weeks. Why can’t you do the same for Rivendell? 
Why can’t you seek out what is wrong and heal it? Banish the pain, heal the wounds. If 
you get rid of the source of infection, the disease will have a harder time spreading. Who 
knows? You might, in time, even keep the disease from coming back at all.”
      Halbarad slumped back in the chair, breathing heavily. Slowly, he struggled to his 
feet. “I have said my piece, Lord Elrond. May you do with it what you will. But I beg you 
not to content yourself with stamping out each individual germ. Go after the source.” He 
staggered towards the door, and, reaching it, leaned against the jamb. Over his shoulder, 
he said, “If you don’t actively seek it out, you may find that it will take your sons.”
      Elrond sat, frozen, after Halbarad had gone. He sat that way until the sunset hour, 
but when the world began to turn purple and grey outside his window, he came back to 
life and left his study.
***
      “What were you trying to do?” Glorfindel admonished. He had come upon the 
exhausted Ranger in the corridor, just around the corner from Elrond’s study. “You could 
have passed out. Not many go down this way.”
      “What… are you…. doing here… then?” Halbarad allowed Glorfindel to slip an 
arm around his waist. He leaned against the elf-lord unashamedly.
       “Save your breath. You’re going to need it.” They began to walk. “I was coming 
to plead with Elrond. I want to take Elladan to Lothlorien where he will be safer.”
      “He would never… make the journey. He is too weak.”
      “What do you know of it?” Glorfindel eased Halbarad down a flight of stairs.
      Halbarad couldn’t speak until they were at the bottom, where he waved Glorfindel 
to a stop. He leaned against the wall, supported by its comforting strength as well as by 
Glorfindel. “I’ve… seen him.” He gasped as the room spun and closed his eyes. “Went to 
his room… Saw him crying in his sleep.” He wheezed. “If he is to be healed, it must be 
here. The Shadow, strong as it is here…” Groaning, Halbarad passed out.
      But Glorfindel had understood, and as he lifted Halbarad into his arms and started 
to carry him back to the Ranger’s room, he finished silently, ‘As strong as the Shadow is 
here, it is stronger yet out there. Lothlorien would be safe, yes, but the roads between 
would most likely be deadly.’
      When he had reached Halbarad’s room, Glorfindel bathed the man’s forehead and 
wrists. When he was sure the man would rest peacefully for a while, he left to seek out 
Elrohir.
      ‘This surely isn’t the brightest thing I have ever done, but I must help to fight the 
Shadow instead of just reacting to it. I will not lose Elladan.’ He sighed. ‘And the only 
way to save him is to save his brother.’
***
      “What do you want?” Elrohir huddled in a large, overstuffed chair opposite the 
large window. Two candles burned on a small corner table and the curtains were drawn 
against the late afternoon sunlight.
      Glorfindel perched on the window seat, maintaining his distance from the 
dangerous elf. “I’m here to talk to Sauron.”
      Elrohir laughed. “You’ve confused my chambers with Mordor, Whore. I tortured 
you, and enjoyed you in this room, but that doesn’t make it the Dark Lord’s realm.”
      “His realm extends beyond Mordor. I would speak to him, unless he’s afraid.”
      Elrohir smiled. “The Dark Lord fears no one.” He stretched. “You are boring me. 
Unless you are here to take your leggings down, I suggest you leave. For your own good, 
of course.” The smile broadened. “And for my dear brother’s own good. Surely he misses 
you.” He sat forward, uncurling so quickly and smoothly that Glorfindel was hard-
pressed to remain completely still. “Unless he misses me. Is that why you’re here? Did 
Elladan send you to fetch me to his bedside?”
      ‘The time for talk is done, at least for me.’ Glorfindel smiled and released a tiny 
sliver of his light.
      Elrohir flinched, then regained his composure. “You can’t drive him away, Balrog 
Slayer. He is stronger than anything you have ever faced. Be sensible, Balrog Slayer. 
Who will protect my dear heart if you are dead? Back off for now. Perhaps in time you 
will find a way to challenge us.”
      Glorfindel simply released another sliver of light, this one slightly bigger than the 
first. His eyes flashed and his smile had disappeared. Questions of strength were gone 
from his mind. Neither did he let himself consider what the outcome of this battle might 
be. Elladan would be safer with Sauron gone than with Glorfindel alive to walk beside 
him. The blond stood and raised his hands.
      Elrohir struggled to his feet and retreated two steps. He bumped into the wall and 
grimaced. He raised his own hands. “You cannot challenge me, Balrog Slayer. My 
servants may flee before you, but I never shall. Give it over. I swear I will leave Elladan 
to you. Let me take his twin, and I shall be content.”
      “If you have Elrohir, you have a hold on Imladris. I will not leave him to you.”
      “Don’t you wish to protect my dear heart? Don’t you wish to keep Elladan alive?”
      “He would rather die than serve you. So would I.” Glorfindel threw his arms 
wide. Light poured from him, obscuring him and sheltering him at the same time. He 
heard, as if from an impossible distance, the roar of sliding rock in a cavern. He could 
hear the Balrog and feel its fiery breath. And, Valar help him, he could smell the thing. 
Glorfindel groaned, but refused to let his light diminish.
      A soundless, hot wave of power broke over him and Glorfindel stumbled back a 
step, then stood steady. Little pinpricks of fire, like white-hot needles, punctured his skin.
      Then Elrohir spoke, except that it was not completely his voice. It was as if two 
people spoke from his mouth. “Give it over!”
      ‘Sauron has taken full possession of him, then.’ Glorfindel thought of those that 
Morgoth and Sauron had tortured into orcs. ‘Maybe that’s why he finds it easier to 
possess elves… But Elrohir is still in there. And if I’m going to live through this, I’m 
going to need his help.’
      “Elrohir! Do you love your brother?”
      “He is my own dear heart,” the two voices answered.
      “I already know you lust your brother, but do you love him?”
      “There is no difference.”
      “If you believe that, then you don’t deserve Elladan’s undying devotion. I should 
just kill you now.” He gave Elrohir a chance to digest that. “But I have hopes for you, 
Elrohir. I have hopes that you will return to Elladan’s side as his brother and best friend. 
Will you, Elrohir? Will you prove yourself worthy of Elladan once more?”
      “He needs to be worthy of me,” Sauron answered.
      Fleetingly, Glorfindel grinned. Elrohir wasn’t answering. Gritting his teeth, he 
concentrated his light into two gossamer-thin strands. These he aimed directly into 
Elrohir’s eyes. “Come out if you can, Elrohir! Help Elladan! How can you just leave him 
to Sauron? How can you let Sauron rape him? I thought you promised to always protect 
him! Be true, Elrohir. Be faithful. Don’t abandon-”
      What seemed to be a thousand needles struck Glorfindel. Instead of slipping out 
again, they burrowed deeper and began to drag at him, pulling him in all directions. They 
ripped at his chest, his legs, his arms, his upturned face. Glorfindel screamed. His light 
faltered, flickered, and went out.
      “For Strider! Aaaaiiiiiiiiaahhhhcchhh!” A bright sword cut across Glorfindel’s 
vision. Abruptly, the needles were withdrawn. Glorfindel fell to his knees, but kept 
himself conscious by biting his lip. Dimly, he registered that someone now stood between 
Sauron/Elrohir and himself. He didn’t waste the help he’d been given. “Elrohir! Elrohir! 
Fight him! Fight him now! Elladan needs you! Make up your mind to leave your selfish 
needs and Sauron’s lies behind! Save Elladan! Your twin needs you! Don’t give him over 
to Mordor! Don’t let Sauron make him a whore or an orc! Fight him, Elrohir!”
      “Never!!”
      But the denial had come only in Sauron’s voice. Glorfindel rejoiced and 
continued to shout. His light, having returned when the needles were withdrawn, was 
failing once more, but his voice wasn’t. Not yet.
      Something crashed, and Glorfindel heard the sweetest voice in the world. “Fight 
me yourself, Sauron! Elrohir is off limits to you. Take me if you think you can take me!”
      ‘Elladan, be careful!’ Glorfindel sent the thought, but didn’t dare verbalize it. His 
voice was already busy. And he didn’t want to show Sauron any trace of weakness or 
uncertainty.
      Elladan’s voice came back, strong and clear: ‘I will, Glorfindel. For now, make 
sure of your own place. And protect Halbarad if you can. He cannot stand against Sauron 
much longer.’
      ‘Halbarad! Is that who is sheltering me?’
      He hadn’t meant to send the thought, but Elladan returned, ‘Aye.’ Then he was 
advancing on Sauron/Elrohir and Glorfindel turned his mind fully back his task.
      “He is mine! Elrohir is mine! His soul is in my pocket.”
      “Then I have to rip a hole in you, won’t I?” Halbarad snarled. He faced Sauron 
with only his sword and his will, but it was enough, at least for the moment. In the back 
of his mind, Halbarad knew that if he felt the slightest temptation, or if this battle had 
been happening in Mordor, he wouldn’t have been able to stand. ‘But I feel nothing but 
fury and a need to prove myself worthy. If I die now, it will be as Aragorn’s brother.’
      “You will not do that, Ranger of the North. I will.”
      At first, none knew where the voice came from. Everything was confusion. But 
then a voice spoke from the doorway. “Yes, Elrohir, you can. We will help you. Take my 
hand, Elladan.”
      ‘Elrond!’ Glorfindel almost laughed, even as his light faded completely and he 
found himself kneeling, exhausted, behind Halbarad. He glanced to his right in time to 
see Elrond put his arm around Elladan’s shoulders. In this way, the two elves advanced 
on Sauron. Hatred clenched their jaws into identical grimaces and their eyes were filled 
with a killing light. They moved between Sauron and Halbarad and Elrond raised his 
ring.
      “Leave Rivendell, Shadow, and never return!” Elladan roared. “You will never 
enter here again.”
      Halbarad staggered back at that moment, all the strength draining out of him. 
Glorfindel caught the man as he fell and eased him to the floor. He supported Halbarad’s 
drooping head against his chest.
      Sauron threw back Elrohir’s head and loosed a feral cry. Elrohir’s hands came up 
and touched his face, almost delicately. But where he touched his skin, cuts appeared. A 
crimson, unhealthy fire ran from these like blood and Sauron continued to scream. 
      The poisonous, red flames exploded outward and Elrohir was briefly engulfed, 
hidden from view.
      Halbarad sobbed in terror and clutched Glorfindel. The Balrog Slayer had averted 
his eyes.
      The light faded and Glorfindel risked a look. Elrohir was kneeling with his head 
bent and his hands still on his face. The flames had vanished. Even as Glorfindel focused 
on the elf, Elladan moved, pulling away from his father. He squatted before his brother 
and tried to raise his head.
      Elrohir fell backwards, then started scrambling away. He met the wall almost at 
once and scuttled sideways. Only then did Glorfindel realise the second son of Elrond 
was muttering. “I can’t touch you. I can’t hurt you. Stay back so I won’t hurt you. I love 
you, Elladan. I don’t lust you. You are before me. I won’t let my hands or my words hurt 
you again.”
      Elrond strode forward and lifted Elrohir to his feet swiftly. Glorfindel gape at the 
change that had been wrought on Elrohir’s face. The elf looked as if he were three or four 
centuries younger. He looked frightened, but untried, unspoiled. He was weeping freely, 
his chest rising and falling as he fought not to sob outright.
      “You can go to Elladan now. He wants his brother again,” Elrond whispered.
***
      ‘Elrohir, can you hear me?’
      ‘…Elladan?’
      ‘Yes, Brother.’
      ‘I’m afraid, Elladan.’
      ‘I know. So am I. Can you feel how frightened I am?’
      ‘Yes. Can you… can you feel me?’
      ‘Yes. Please, Elrohir, we don’t have to be frightened and alone anymore. Will you 
please come back? I need you. I need my little brother. I can’t live without him.’
      Elrohir chewed his lip. ‘I love you, Elladan.’ He took a tentative step forward and 
Elladan drew him close. ‘I don’t want to walk alone anymore. Can I stay with you?’
      ‘We can all walk together now. Ada and Glorfindel will walk with us, too.’
      ‘I have to tell Glorfy I’m sorry…’
      ‘He knows, Little Brother. He knows.’
      Tears mingled as the twins clung to each other. ‘I love you, Elrohir, and I’ll never 
leave you.’
***
      “What made you come?”
      Elrond laid the herb-soaked cloth on Glorfindel’s forehead. The fragrance made 
the blond sigh with pleasure and relief.
      “Something Halbarad said. He told me I would lose my sons if I didn’t drive 
Sauron out. I was tempted to discount him, but… Elladan came to my study. He was 
barely strong enough to walk, but he told me he was going to fight.” Elrond shook his 
head and began to rub Glorfindel’s sore limbs with rose oil. “Still I didn’t move. But then 
I heard Elrohir screaming. Not with my ears. You know what I mean.” Elrond smiled 
sadly. “I couldn’t sit still. I went after Elladan, and followed almost immediately after 
him. When I realised that Sauron had taken Elrohir completely, I… I lost my temper. All 
my thoughts of waiting it out, of sailing and leaving the poison of this world behind, 
fled.” He laughed. “I may be a fool, Glorfindel, but, like any fool, I am subject to my 
emotions. Thankfully.”
      Glorfindel smiled. “I trust you, Elrond.”
      Elrond bent forward and touched Glorfindel’s hand. “You honor me, Balrog 
Slayer. Sleep now. You and Halbarad need it as much as my sons do. And both of you 
resist sleep as if it were a plague.”
      Glorfindel chuckled and slipped into reverie.
      Elrond gazed down at him for a moment, then whispered, “By so little as faith and 
love was this valley saved. Thank you, Lord Glorfindel. I can never repay you for what 
you have given back to me.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
      Saru entered the tent he shared with Kehydi. The sun had set half an hour before, 
and it was completely dark. There would be a half moon tonight, not enough light to see 
well by, but enough to make the world’s shadows look like monsters. “Kehydi?” Saru 
moved to the pallet, his memory of the tent’s layout making his steps sure. Shrugging 
when he wasn’t answered, Saru removed his tunic, boots and trousers and slipped 
between the blankets. Perhaps Kehydi had to stand watch tonight. It shouldn’t have been 
his turn for another two nights, but unexpected changes weren’t unusual. Aragorn’s 
words from that morning had comforted Saru and he couldn’t help but believe that 
Malacai had spoken similar words to Kehydi. Turning on his side, Saru yawned and 
closed his eyes. He dropped his hand to his belly and rubbed it lightly. “I love you, little 
one.”
      “Even if it’s Halbarad’s bastard?”
      Saru was out of bed and against the tent’s side, a knife upright in his hand, before 
he had even properly registered the voice. He wished for light to see by.
      A candle flickered into life, illuminating Kehydi’s haggard face.
      “You startled me!” Saru rose from his defensive crouch.
      Kehydi scowled. “Some Ranger you are. You can’t even sense when an enemy’s 
right next to you.”
      Saru frowned, refusing to understand the implications of Kehydi’s words. “You 
aren’t my enemy, love.”
      “Don’t call me that!” Abruptly, Kehydi sank onto the pallet and gazed at Saru 
sorrowfully. “We can’t do this, Saru,” he whispered. “You’re right; I’m not your enemy. 
But I’m not your love, either. I can’t afford to be. I have duties and responsibilities and… 
Well, for one thing, I have an obligation to have children. This freak pregnancy might be 
a fluke. You might never have another one. And, at least according to what Dad told me, 
your bloodline might be even purer than mine. If you’ve gone all these years without 
getting pregnant, how long do you think it will take me? If the baby’s mine, this is still a 
problem because every family should have as many children as they can.”
      Saru didn’t point out that Kehydi’s mother had only borne one child even though 
she and Malacai had been trying for years uncounted.
      Kehydi sighed. “Saru, I want to be with you, I do, but there are just too many 
factors here. Concerns about the baby’s future, your future, the future of the Dunedain. 
Do you want to risk marriage and commitment if everything is going to just fall apart?”
      Saru dropped his knife and took a step towards Kehydi. “But… but, Kehydi, we 
can only fight the risks by holding to each other.” He wiped distractedly at his tears. 
“Kehydi, please don’t leave me.”
      Kehydi stood. “Can’t you see? It’s requests like that… We can’t do this, Saru. 
We’re not equal.”
      Saru gasped as though he’d been punched in the stomach. 
      “We’re equal in blood, but not in experiences. In strength. We can’t hope for this 
to work unless we’re equal in every way.”
      “It’s not being unequal! It’s being different!” Saru took another step forward, 
holding out his hand. “Kehydi, I love you. And you love me.” His voice trembled 
slightly. “Don’t you?”
      Kehydi looked away. “Yes.”
      Saru lowered his hand. “What did I do, Kehydi? Why are you acting like this? 
Didn’t Mas- your father explain things to you? The child won’t be hideous, Kehydi, no 
matter who the father is.”
      “Is that all you were worried about? If your baby was going to be ugly?”
      “But, Kehydi, it’s more than ‘being ugly’. If the baby’s mother-papa-whatever 
was evil, then the child would be evil. Aragorn explained everything. But now that I 
know only I have an influence on the babe-”
      “But you have suffered, Saru. You have been selfish. You have contemplated 
suicide. You even-”
      “Stop!” Saru groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t want to hear 
it, Kehydi. I don’t want to hear what I’ve done. It’s obvious now. I should have realised.” 
He turned away and struggled into his tunic, trousers and boots. Kehydi watched him in 
silence.
      Saru reclaimed his knife and turned back to Kehydi. His eyes were two bright, 
cold stars. “Get some sleep, Kehydi. I need to be alone for awhile.” 
***
      “Aragorn?”
      “He’s asleep, Saru.” Malacai appeared around the corner of Aragorn’s tent. His 
eyes were troubled and he wouldn’t look directly at the young man before him. “Please 
let him rest. He needs all he can get.”
      Saru nodded. “Most of my weapons are in your tent. May I take them, please?”
      Malacai’s stomach tightened. “Saru, I’m sorry about-”
      “It isn’t your fault. This is just the way things have to be.” He smiled tiredly. “I 
was a fool to think they would change when Aragorn said we were free.” He laughed, his 
lip curling. “I just need to get away and raise my babe alone. Will you help me or not?”
      “You can’t leave tonight.”
      “No, I know. And I won’t. I have another to worry about now.” He gazed at 
Malacai. “Do you also think I will commit suicide? Rest assured that I wouldn’t do 
something so selfish. I won’t kill the child within me.” His voice began to roughen. He 
cleared his throat. “I’ll find something to do in one of the villages near here. I’ll still see 
the Dunedain from time to time. And I will tell my babe how brave you were.”
      Malacai nodded. “I’m sorry this world is so hard, Saru. I’m sorry you’ve only 
ever been hurt.”
      “Not true.” Saru began walking towards Malacai’s tent, and the Ranger followed 
him. “I had love. Besides Kehydi, you were gentle with me. And Annaleh was perfect 
from the first.” He cleared his throat again. “And I was able to be with Legolas.” Saru 
pushed the tent flap aside, and stopped short.
      Malacai looked in over his shoulder, and saw Annaleh sitting on her pallet. 
Between her feet sat a pack. A cloak was folded on top of it. She was crying; tears 
slipped down her cheeks and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.
      “Mistress…” Saru went to her and knelt, taking her hands. “Please, Mistress, 
don’t cry.”
      “Don’t call me that, Saru. If you have to call me something besides Annaleh, call 
me mother.” She stood and drew Saru to his feet. Hugging him close, she whispered 
fiercely, “You don’t have to go. I know you feel that you have no choice, but we can find 
a place for you here. I promise. You shouldn’t be forced out. Not after all the triumphs.”
      Saru kissed her cheek. “I’ll be all right, Mother. I promise. I know how to take 
care of myself.” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll even go to Gondor and learn about my first 
home.” He grinned, encouraging her to smile. “Maybe I’ll even prepare the White City 
for Aragorn’s return.”
      “Saru, my Saru…” She wept unashamedly against his shoulder. “Please don’t go. 
Don’t leave us. Don’t leave me. Please stay here, my son. I don’t want to lose you.”
      Saru took her hands and held her away from him. “If you want, I promise I won’t 
leave the North. I’ll live in one of the villages. You can come to see me. And, once I’ve 
found a way to support my babe and myself, I’ll visit you.”
      Annaleh glanced down, and her eye was caught by Saru’s wrists. They looked a 
little plumper than usual. ‘No… Is it time already?’ She looked over Saru’s shoulder, 
thinking to ask Malacai to help her, but her husband was gone. She swore and the tears 
flowed faster. “Why is everyone so fucking afraid?”
      Saru gaped at her.
      She laughed, still sobbing. “I grew up in the wilds, too, Saru. I’ve heard 
everything.” She glared at the closed tent flap. “Like father, like son.”
***
      “I’m ashamed of you.”
      Kehydi looked up, startled. He was sitting on the edge of the pallet he’d been 
sharing with Saru. “Father? Aren’t you standing watch toni-?”
      “The others can handle it.” Malacai strode forward, grabbed Kehydi by his collar 
and hauled him to his feel. “I am ashamed to call you family. I am ashamed to call you a 
Ranger. I am ashamed to call you my son.” He released Kehydi and shoved him so that 
he fell back onto the pallet. “There is no excuse or pardon for what you have done. Saru 
has ever loved you, and you betray him. How can you even look at me with those 
deceiver’s eyes?”
      “Did he run to you?” Kehydi was fiddling with the blanket.
      “I found him. He was seeking Aragorn so that he might leave the camp.”
      “He’s running away.” Kehydi’s voice was contemptuous.
      “Yes. From you. He finally got wise to what kind of lover you are. He wishes to 
seek a better place to raise his child.”
      Kehydi winced. “Did he speak to Aragorn?”
      “No. Aragorn is resting. I took Saru to your mother. It is said that in the dark 
times, the only ones who will love the children are their mothers, and perhaps not even 
those. I cannot say if she still loves you, but this I will say: she loves Saru as her son and 
does not want to see him gone.” Malacai turned to leave the tent.
      “Father…”
      Malacai didn’t look at him. “What?”
      “Do you think I should marry Saru even though there would be danger to the 
camp?”
      Malacai spun around so fast that Kehydi flinched. “What danger could there be?”
      “Well… he’s weak. He’s afraid. He can’t fight-”
      “He fought Olorin and distracted him long enough for Aragorn to regain 
consciousness. He is a hero.” Malacai’s hand had dropped to his sword-hilt. He forced his 
arm to relax. “You will not speak so of a Dunadan who saved our chief.”
      “I saved Aragorn, too.” Kehydi pouted.
      “And I’m not ignoring that. You will be honored in your time. But so will Saru, 
for his role was just as important as yours.” Again, Malacai turned away. “I don’t expect 
you to marry Saru. I expect you to search your heart as well as you can, if you can, and 
figure out if you love Saru enough to face challenges at his side. Marriage doesn’t solve 
all problems, Kehydi, and it even starts some. But it is the source of a flavour of joy that 
cannot be found anywhere else.”
      A summoning whistle split the air. Malacai sprinted from the tent.
      Kehydi hesitated, then trailed after his father.
***
      Aragorn was up and out of his tent before the whistler could pause to draw breath. 
He had one thing in his hands: his herb-bag. Even in his sleep, he recognized that the call 
was for medical aid. As he ran towards Malacai’s tent, he noticed Legolas sprinting from 
the freed slaves’ tent. He was carrying his own herb-bag. Despite his concern for Malacai 
and his family, Aragorn grinned. ‘His healer training hasn’t deserted him. I hope it never 
does.’
      He entered the tent just ahead of Legolas and took in the scene at a glance. Saru 
lay on Malacai’s and Annaleh’s bed, his head thrown back and his hair plastered to his 
forehead. Annaleh sat beside him, rubbing his neck and murmuring soothingly.
      Malacai charged in, knocking into Aragorn. The chief barely felt it as 
understanding brightened his eyes. “It’s time,” he said, low.
      Striding to Saru’s side, Aragorn knelt and laid his hand on the man’s swollen 
belly. He nodded. “Everyone except Annaleh and Legolas, get out. Malacai, give Legolas 
your brother’s narrowest blade. Legolas, get me water and soap to wash my hands. 
Annaleh, set water to boil and fetch a blanket. Then get a cloth to cool Saru’s skin. Saru, 
breathe slowly and deeply. You need to stay calm.”
      Saru nodded, smiling tentatively.  “Will my babe live, Aragorn?”
      “Yes.” Aragorn squeezed Saru’s hand. “I promise.” And, without taking his eyes 
from Saru’s face, he said, “Malacai, I’ve changed my mind. Stay. I’m going to need you 
to hold Saru.”
      Saru bit his lip. That didn’t sound promising.
      Legolas appeared at Aragorn’s elbow. “Here’s an infusion for the pain.”
      “Good work.” Aragorn took the bowl and spoon. “Have you disinfected the knife 
Malacai gave you?”
      “Not yet.” Legolas moved away to a corner and began dissolving herbs in a 
shallow bowl of water.
      Aragorn drew Saru to a sitting position. Saru winced, but didn’t whimper. As 
carefully as he could, Aragorn drew Saru’s tunic off over his head.
      Malacai slipped behind Saru, straddling the younger man’s hips. Gently, he 
guided Saru back against his chest. “Just relax,” he whispered. “Aragorn has done this 
many times.”
      “Have you?”
      “Aye, though I’ve only assisted, like now.”
      Saru jumped slightly and Malacai tightened his arms around the younger man’s 
chest. Saru’s hand went to his abdomen. “Sorry,” he whispered. “My babe moved.”
      Aragorn fed Saru the infusion. “You’ll be fine, Saru. Just try to stay still.”
      Aragorn was feeling lightly of Saru’s abdomen. “Saru, I think there are two.” He 
looked up, and his eyes shone with joy and surprise.
      ‘There are two,’ Malacai decided. ‘If he wasn’t completely sure, he wouldn’t say 
something like that.’ His heart swelled. ‘Aii, Saru, I am proud of you.’
      Saru’s eyes filled with tears and he couldn’t speak.
      Legolas brought the knife. “What else do you need, Aragorn?”
      Aragorn had scrubbed his hands in the water Annaleh brought. He took the knife, 
careful not to touch the blade. “In a minute or two, I’ll need your healing powers.”
      To distract himself, Saru asked Annaleh, “Why didn’t I feel any warning? 
Shouldn’t I be having contractions?”
      “A man’s body is different than a woman’s. You would have started to feel pain 
perhaps tomorrow or the next day. Then what Aragorn is about to do would have been 
dangerous for both you and the children.”
      Saru licked his lips and tried not to think about what might have happened. “How 
does Aragorn know it’s time if there’s no pain?”
      “A man shows the fullness of his time in sweating, weakness and swelling.” She 
touched Saru’s wrist. “I’d guess these have been swollen for a day or two. If we all 
hadn’t been so distracted, we would have noticed.”
      Aragorn was feeling Saru’s abdomen again. “Malacai,” he said, only his second’s 
name and nothing else. Malacai didn’t react overtly, but set himself to hold Saru still if 
necessary. Aragorn lowered the knife.
      Saru flinched and now he did cry out. It was only a soft cry, but the sorrow in it 
was apparent to those gathered about him.
      “Saru, I need you to-”
      “Get out, Kehydi,” Malacai said, overriding his chief for one of the few times 
since the two of them had met. “Saru needs to concentrate.”
      Kehydi hesitated.
      “Out,” Aragorn ordered. “Now. If you want something useful to do, stand guard 
and tell all who ask that Saru Dunadan is giving birth to twins.”
      Kehydi left.
***
      At that moment, the drugs took effect. Saru began to lose all feeling from his neck 
down. A slight buzzing had started in his head and he was suddenly grateful for 
Malacai’s strong arms steadying him.
      From what seemed to be a great distance, he heard Malacai speaking. “Saru has 
gone under, Aragorn. I have never seen a man be so quickly overtaken by the drugs.”
      “Legolas used the right amount. I’m not surprised that Saru is so susceptible. He 
does not drink, and barely smokes one pipe in a month.”
      Saru felt a slight pinch in his lower body, but he couldn’t know if the place being 
pinched was on his chest, his abdomen or his legs. He tried to move his hand to brush at 
it, thinking that a bug had bitten him. But his arm was too heavy to lift. Since he could 
still move his fingers, he assumed his arm was being held down.
      He felt that pinch again, but it was barely more than a twinge. Then he felt 
nothing. A minute later, he fell asleep.
***
      “So beautiful,” Aragorn whispered as he gazed at the baby girl and baby boy 
Annaleh had cleaned and then wrapped in blankets. Malacai held one, and Annaleh held 
the other. Aragorn looked back to Saru, noting that Legolas had covered him with his 
own blanket. There hadn’t been much bleeding, thanks to Legolas’ healing power, and 
Aragorn expected Saru to awaken soon.
      He stood and moved to look at the girl. Her brother had been born without hair, 
but she had locks of blazing red, just like her papa. She looked up at him and Aragorn 
smiled. “Welcome, Dunadan,” he whispered. Then he crossed to her brother and repeated 
his words. “May you both grow up in the strength of your people.”
      “Are they… did they live?” Saru’s voice was weak, but his eyes were filled with a 
need to know.
      Legolas helped Saru to sit up a little. Malacai and Annaleh moved forward as one 
to lay the children in Saru’s arms. Saru was weeping again, and he kissed his babes 
lightly. Then he looked up at Aragorn, his face troubled. “How will I feed them?”
      “You have milk, Saru,” Aragorn answered, smiling. “I’ve been told that all men 
do, but that only those who have borne their own children can get to it.”
      He knelt by the bed, and when he spoke his eyes were intense and pleading. 
“Don’t leave, Saru. Malacai has told me that you wish to find another place. I beg you to 
stay. I cannot imagine losing one of my people to the world. It will be hard enough to 
lose those who wish to return to slavery, or who seek freedom elsewhere, on top of all 
that have died. Please don’t go.” He touched Saru’s face lightly, holding Saru’s gaze with 
his own. “I know I have no right to ask, especially since I have caused you so much pain. 
But you are my brother now, Saru, and I…” He bowed his head and tried to control 
himself. “I did not realise what it would mean to lose you until now.” He seemed to steel 
himself. “I know of Kehydi’s betrayal, but I beg you to stay in spite of him. You are too 
good for the world beyond our family, Saru. You are too good for them. I don’t want to 
lose you to those that would not appreciate you.” Saru wasn’t speaking, and his 
expression was unreadable. Aragorn stood. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t force this on you. 
Forgive me. ‘Tis not my place.”
      “Aragorn, if you really want me here…”
      Aragorn turned back, his face hopeful as a child’s. “Please, Saru. If you can stand 
it here, please stay. And if, after a time, you find that you really cannot stay, I will keep 
my protests to myself and will help you to leave in any way I can.”
      “You do not need to promise me again. I know you are a man of your word.”
      “Then you will stay?”
      Saru nodded.
      Aragorn kissed his forehead.  “Do you know yet what you will name the little 
ones?”
      Saru smiled. “Adalai is my son’s name.”
      Aragorn nodded. “Just. A good name.”
      “And an homage to my” Saru blushed “father.”
      Aragorn glanced at Malacai, and saw that he, too, was blushing. The chief turned 
quickly back to Saru before he could laugh. “And for your daughter?”
      “Cein.”
      Aragorn’s smile broadened at the Dwarvish. “Jewel. It suits her.”
***
      “Kehydi?”
      Malacai’s son chewed on his pipe stem and stared into the dying central fire. “I 
don’t want to talk, Aragon.”
      Aragorn sat down beside him and took out his pipe. “Good. Neither do I.”
      Kehydi glanced at him sharply to see if he was trying some trick, but then turned 
his gaze back to the fire. It was close to midnight, and the only sounds in the camp were 
those of the crackling fire and the murmuring of voices from a few tents.
      Kehydi fidgeted, and finally turned towards Aragorn, his eyes accusing. “What do 
you want? Your little silent trick, the one Dad says you use on ‘lost Rangers’, won’t work 
with me.”
      “Legolas, Annaleh and Malacai are tending Saru and his son and daughter. I am 
not needed, nor would it be appreciated if I hovered over all of them. So I came to 
smoke.” Aragorn puffed at his pipe.
      “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Dad says you’re very tired.”
      “I just helped Saru give birth. I have too much energy right now to sleep.”
      “Then why aren’t you burning off the energy? Running or something?” Kehydi 
frowned. “You look about as full of energy as a dead log.”
      Aragorn smiled around his pipe-stem. “How would it look if I showed my need 
for exercise, Kehydi? I am an example to all here, and as such, they watch me.”
      “I don’t watch you.”
      “All but you, then. In any case, I have fifty-nine Dunedain to look after besides 
you and me. If I show that I am tense, they will pick up on that, and it will make them 
nervous.” He glanced sideways. “For now, Saru has decided to stay. I pleaded with him, 
and he is indulging me for the time being. If he were to leave, there would be only fifty-
six Dunedain left.”
      “So he’s a number to you?”
      Aragorn didn’t answer.
      Kehydi stared moodily into the fire. “Is it normal for a man to have two babies?”
      “Just as normal- or unusual- as a woman having twins.” He smiled reminiscently. 
“The phenomenon is slightly more common among elves.” 
      “Why should I care about that?”
      “I wasn’t aware that we were in a counseling session. What do you care about?”
      Kehydi returned his attention back to the fire, and Aragorn sent a stream of smoke 
skyward.
      “Where will he live?”
      “If I know Malacai, he will build his son a tent.”
      “Saru isn’t his son!”
      “Malacai has named him so. And Saru’s son is named for Malacai.”
      “Why?”
      “Gratitude, I assume, and love.”
      “Will Saru… would Dad make Saru… his heir?”
      “I’m not Malacai. I know not. But I doubt it. Saru doesn’t want that responsibility, 
Malacai wouldn’t force it on him, and there is no precedent for that sort of change. 
Besides, it would break the bloodline.”
      “Would you allow it?”
      “I won’t chew that food until I have to.”
      “So you’re thinking about it!”
      “No. I’m not thinking about anything. Those are three very big ifs I just stated, 
and many more have not been named. But I have learned that all the planning in the 
world may or may not save us in the end from having to do something we never 
imagined.”
      Kehydi grumbled and dumped the remains of his pipe into the dying fire. “Aren’t 
you here to scold me?”
      “I’m here to smoke. I thought we established that. Besides, why would you want 
my opinion? I’ve caused you and Saru a lot of trouble.”
      “You were right that he should marry a slave.”
      Aragorn refused to show his anger. “He isn’t a slave any longer, and Legolas will 
be going home soon.”
      “But you were still right to give Saru to someone who could watch over him.”
      “I didn’t marry Saru to Legolas for that. I married them because I was under the 
influence of the Shadow and my reasoning had been buried in a need to “fix” what wasn’t 
broken in the first place.” Aragorn puffed at his pipe for a moment, then added, “Besides, 
Saru doesn’t need anyone to watch over him. What he needs is someone to love him. 
Some people need to be loved, others need to love. It is the rare man or woman who 
doesn’t need either of these things.”
      “What do you need?”
      “I need to have someone to love and protect. The Dunedain serve that need very 
well, but someday I will need a wife to love and call my own. What do you need?” 
      “Nothing. I’m one of those rare men you mentioned.”
      Aragorn schooled his features into stillness. “Then stay away from Saru. He has 
been hurt enough.” Aragorn extinguished his pipe. “I’m not tired yet, but perhaps I’ll go 
stand watch. Malacai surely won’t return to his post tonight.” He stood, then clamped a 
hand on Kehydi’s shoulder.
      The younger man stared up at him in surprise, and more than a little fear.
      “I mean it, Kehydi. Everything else I’ve said tonight can be ignored except one: 
you will stay away from Saru if you don’t need him. That’s an order.”
      Kehydi nodded mutely. 
      “Of course,” Aragorn continued, “if you decide that you do need him, feel free to 
talk. He misses you.” Aragorn walked away, not looking back.
      Kehydi watched him go, then turned back to the dead fire. ‘I hate you, Aragorn. 
You and your tricks. Your games. What did you think you were going to do? Make me 
say I love him? Even if I do, it doesn’t matter. I won’t go back to him. I hate him.’
      He seemed to hear Aragorn’s voice in his head. ‘You hate yourself, Kehydi, not 
me, and not Saru. How can you hate someone who ever loved you? That’s a trait the orcs 
can manage, and one the Dark Lord employs constantly, but you are one of my Dunedain. 
You don’t know, even now, enough about hate to feel it for those that love you.’
      Kehydi winced, got up and stalked off to the northern border to do some thinking.
***
      “Who is their father?” Saru asked. Cein and Adalai were asleep  in his arms, and 
Saru himself sat in Annaleh’s chair. He was looking at Malacai who sat on the floor not 
far away, sharpening his knives.
      Without looking up, Malacai responded, “Surely Kehydi’s. You weren’t with 
Halbarad that long ago.” Now he did raise his head. “And Adalai looks like him.”
      “And you,” Saru murmured, glancing down at his son.
      “Aye. Kehydi has inherited my eyes, nose and ears. We’ll have to wait to see if 
Adalai inherited Kehydi’s- and my- black hair.”
      “Then perhaps I should rename him Malacai. The name only skips one generation 
at the most, right?”
      “True, but in this case you can do whatever you want.” Malacai sighed. “I don’t 
think Kehydi is going to agree that these little ones are his.”
      “If he does, is there any way he can take them from me?”
      “No. I know Aragorn told you already, but I’ll reiterate it: the babies are yours, 
Saru. None can touch them. I swear.”
      Saru sighed. “I’m sorry… I just had to ask.”
      “I understand. They are your joy. You have every right to be protective of them.” 
Malacai set his knives aside, stood and crossed to Saru. He knelt beside the chair and 
touched Saru’s face lightly. “You are free now, Saru. I know you understand that with 
your head, but I want you to understand it with your heart. No one in this camp will hurt 
you ever again.”
      “They hurt each other,” Saru whispered. “I never thought I would see Dunadan 
raise sword against Dunadan.” He gazed at Malacai, and tears were in his eyes.
      Malacai’s own eyes darkened with grief. “Neither did I. A lot of things have 
happened in my lifetime that I never thought I would live to see. Aragorn struggling 
against the Shadow, for one. My own descent into Sauron’s lies, for another.” He took 
Saru’s hand. “And it is far from over, Saru. I won’t lie to you. The road between here and 
Gondor, though it exists, is crooked, rocky and filled with sinkholes. I don’t know if 
everyone is going to make that road. My only hope is that those who are meant to reach 
Gondor do so. That means Aragorn, of course, but I think it also means you. And 
possibly Kehydi.” He smiled. “I have had my own visions, Saru. Many of them were 
when I was younger. Once, I dreamed I would hold a little red-haired girl and carry her 
across a river. When I saw you in the slave-market at Nennid, I thought I had been 
mistaken and that it was a red-haired boy I had seen. I know differently now.” 
      Saru asked, “Do you think you will make the road?”
      Malacai considered prevaricating, then decided against it. “I doubt it, Saru. I don’t 
think I’ll die tomorrow, but I will not live to see Aragorn crowned.” He closed his eyes. 
“That’s why I’m so worried about Kehydi. He needs to continue in my place, but I can’t 
see that he will ever be ready for that day.”
      Saru squeezed Malacai’s hand until the Dunadan opened his eyes. “As angry as I 
am with him, and as much as I don’t want to be hurt by him anymore, I haven’t given up 
on Kehydi.”
      “You are eternally hopeful.”
      “Maybe, but I think my decision has more to do with determination than hope. I 
won’t give up on him until either he dies, or I do.”
      Malacai nodded. “You are an inspiration, Saru.” He stood. “I should let you get 
some sleep. You will stay here tonight. I must go speak with Annaleh.” He helped Saru to 
the pallet and wrapped a blanket around he and his little ones. “Sleep, Saru. I’ll be back 
later.” He kissed Saru’s forehead and left.
      Outside, Malacai found Annaleh and the two of them held hands as they walked. 
“You’re angry with me,” Malacai said.
      She kissed his ear. “Not anymore.”
      Malacai put his arm around her waist. “Does it make you happy that we have two 
sons?”
      She smiled. “And grandchildren as well? Aye, it does. Does it make you happy?”
      “I’m only sorry I didn’t understand things before this. Saru-”
      “Will be all right now. Stop thinking about what could have been fixed. We will 
make him happy with us.”
      Malacai asked, “Are you up for a little climb?”
      She chuckled. “You wish to use Kehydi’s platform?”
      “When did I become so transparent?”
      She gave him a peck on the cheek. “The minute I started paying attention to you 
when you were still in your twenties.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
      Saru sat up when Malacai was gone and looked at the pack Annaleh had kept 
between her feet. He left Adalai and Cein in the bed and took up the pack. Atop it was his 
own cloak, and he sighed. ‘Even if she didn’t want me to leave, she was willing to help 
me.’ Setting the cloak aside, Saru opened the pack. Inside, wrapped in tunics and 
trousers, were most of his weapons, cleaned and sharpened. Beneath these were more of 
his clothes, and baby clothes as well. Saru laughed and repacked everything for neatness’ 
sake, thinking, ‘I’ll find a place for all this when I have my own tent.’
      ‘You will never have your own tent. When Kehydi dies, they will blame you. 
Then you will run out into the darkness, screaming, and I will pluck your mewling babies 
from your arms, strike their heads together and make you drink their blood. You have 
nothing to hope for, son of Denethor. If you surrender now, I will end all quickly.’
      Sauron was wasting his words. At the mention of Kehydi’s death, Saru’s battle-
shield closed over his mind. He scarcely heard the Dark Lord’s threats. He scarcely heard 
or understood that he now knew his real father’s name. He leapt to his feet, swooped up 
his sword, which had been set in its sheath by the pallet, and left the tent, whistling the 
alarm.
      Outside, he met a stunned-looking Cristan. “Kehydi is in danger! Sauron is 
launching an attack!” Saru shouted.
      “I saw him near the Northern border.” Cristan fell in beside Saru as the young 
man sprinted across the camp.
      “Don’t follow me. Warn Aragorn,” Saru ordered.
      Cristan slowed his pace for an instant, wondering if should go to Aragorn, but 
then he heard the running of feet from all directions. Others had heard Saru’s whistle. 
Among those from eastern edge of camp were Aragorn, Jamien and Aaron. Aaron was 
hobbling, and his eyes were pain-haunted, but his jaw was set. Cristan met Aragorn’s 
eyes and then began to run after Saru. Aragorn understood and followed.
      Saru sprinted through the space between two tents and saw Kehydi. The man 
stood, his back to the camp, on the high, sturdy branch of an elm tree. Saru could almost 
see the Shadow flitting around him, urging him on. Kehydi’s feet were spread apart and 
he braced himself against the tree trunk with one hand. The other hand was raised as if to 
ward off a blow.
      “Kehydi!” Saru charged to the base of the tree and started to climb.
      “Stay away from me, Saru. I jump now. I understand your need to commit suicide 
now.”
      Saru reached for a branch, but Aragorn caught him from behind and dragged him 
off the tree. 
      “Saru, listen to me-” Aragorn began.
      Saru fought against him, kicking and trying to bite the arms that held him. He 
snapped his head back against Aragorn’s nose, trying to stun his assailant. He growled, 
“Let go. He needs me.”
      Blood streamed from Aragorn’s broken nose. Still, he spoke calmly. “What he 
needs is your love. Talk to him from here. If you climb, Sauron will make him jump.”
      “He can survive the fall if someone catches him.”
      “Not with a rope around his neck he can’t.”
      Saru looked up. “I see no-” Except he did. The telltale knot behind Kehydi’s left 
ear was clearly visible. He stopped fighting and Aragorn released him.
      “Shouldn’t we help him?” Cristan whispered from Aragorn’s right. “He can’t take 
on whatever’s up there with Kehydi alone, can he?”
      “Saru has a better chance than any of us when it comes to reaching Kehydi,” 
Aragorn muttered out of the side of his mouth. “Once Sauron has been thrust back, the 
Dunedain will unite to drive him from the camp. Find Malacai and tell him to be ready to 
execute Red Stone.”
      Confused but trusting, Cristan slipped through the ever-growing crowd of 
Dunedain, whispering to all that they must be quiet, and asking if any had seen Malacai.
      “Kehydi,” Saru called, “I love you. Don’t leave. I need you.”
      “I betrayed you. You don’t need me. I’ve only ever betrayed you.”
      Saru laid his hand on his sword. “Sauron, I want to speak to Kehydi, not to you. 
Kehydi, I love you. The past is the past, but this is now. There will always be a chance 
for us to start over again. Sauron is trying to take that chance from you. Don’t let him 
destroy us, Kehydi. We fought the Nazgul for our love. We fought our own people for 
our love. Please don’t let our sacrifice be in vain.”
      Kehydi’s hand drifted up to the noose, fingering it lightly. “I…”
      Sauron laughed. “I only have to take one step, Whore.”
      “Why do we frighten you so?” a voice demanded from behind Saru. “We are only 
a group of men in the wilderness. What possible threat could we pose to you?”
      Sauron didn’t answer.
      Aragorn stepped forward and put his hand on Saru’s shoulder. Behind and around 
him, the Dunedain gathered, making a human chain. Their strength of will flowed 
through Aragorn and into Saru.
      “Leave now,” said Saru, and his voice was deeper, stronger, than it had ever been. 
“Leave now, or you will be limping back to Mordor.”
      Kehydi tossed his head and Sauron howled.
      “Leave!!” shouted every Dunadan. “Now!!”
      Aragorn intoned, “And never return.”
      Kehydi lowered his head. He was shivering hard. “Saru, help me…”
      “Take the noose off, Kehydi. All will be well.” Saru took a step nearer to the tree, 
but didn’t pull away from Aragorn. “Please,” he whispered, “listen to me, Kehydi. Please 
listen. I don’t want to lose you.”
      With trembling hands, Kehydi reached up and took the noose off over his head. A 
sudden, savage gust of wind, like an enormous, unseen beast passing at great speed, 
rocked the tree and roared over the heads of the assembled Dunedain. Kehydi clung to the 
tree, his eyes wide with terror.
      ‘Perhaps he wasn’t quite ready to be named an adult, even though he passed all 
the tests,’ Aragorn thought. Then he grasped Saru’s wrist and propelled him towards 
Kehydi. “He may fall,” he muttered in Saru’s ear. “Be ready.”
      They stood, side-by-side, beneath the branch. Kehydi was huddled against the 
trunk, but gradually he relaxed. He glanced down, then turned to the trunk and began to 
make his way to where they stood.
      ‘By such a little margin was disaster avoided.’ Aragorn repressed a shudder. 
When Kehydi was on the ground, and he stood, being held by Saru, the chief of the 
Dunedain turned to those gathered behind him. Many of them looked frightened. A few- 
Aaron among them- seemed to be holding in a great shout of joy by only the sheerest 
effort. Malacai was frowning at his chief’s broken nose.
      “Aaron and Annaleh, stay here and guard Saru and Kehydi until they are ready to 
return to camp. Don’t interfere in their healing. The rest of you, return to your tasks, 
whatever they might be.”
      As the others moved away, Malacai caught Aragorn’s eye.
      “Not this time, Malacai,” Aragorn whispered. “For a while, I must be alone.”
      When Aragorn was gone, Legolas materialized at Malacai’s side. “He’s troubled,” 
the elf said.
      Malacai nodded. “Aye, he is.”
      “About Kehydi or the Dark Lord?”
      “Neither. Something closer to home plagues him this night.”
***
      The moon was on the wester. Aragorn leaned against a tree just outside the 
Dunedain camp. Those who were keeping watch at the border could see his back, could 
know that he was well, but they would also know that he didn’t want to be disturbed.
      Aragorn didn’t smoke. He wanted to watch the sky. ‘This night already feels a 
thousand years long. Why isn’t it morning yet?’ He sighed, and wondered if there was 
truth to the old stories of wizards being able to lengthen days and nights to serve their 
purposes. ‘Surely not.’ He laughed at himself. ‘I only feel that it should be morning 
because I’ve scarcely slept and I am preoccupied with thoughts of the future. Things 
usually look better- or at least make a little more sense- in daylight. Dawn is ever the 
hope of men.’
      Briefly, Aragorn thought of Legolas, and the trip the two of them must make 
soon. ‘I cannot now know who will accompany us. Malacai must stay here to hold things 
together. Aaron is hardly strong enough to travel. I will not take Kehydi or Saru. They 
must be allowed to heal.’ He smiled at his own forgetfulness. ‘Besides, Saru has his 
babes now.’ Shaking his head, he added, ‘Annaleh can’t go. I think it will be just the two 
of us.’ Smiling ruefully, he added, ‘Assuming, of course, that I can convince the 
Dunedain to let us go without a chaperone.’
      Around him, the world darkened and Aragorn refocused on the sky almost 
fearfully. But the darkness had been caused only by a cloud over the moon. Even as 
Aragorn watched, the cloud started to move away and the moon smiled dimly through a 
thin veil that refused to be swept away. Aragorn gazed up at that veil, thinking, ‘I can’t 
move that cloud by staring at it, but sometimes I feel that I could change a lot of other 
things by just moving to change them.’ He imagined the slave-market at Nennid, its filth, 
stink and noise, and his hands curled into fists. ‘When I am king, no places like that will 
exist in Gondor and Arnor. None.’ Then he stopped. ‘When I am king… Is this the first 
time I’ve thought of becoming king in a positive light? Yes… yes, it is.’ He rubbed his 
hand over his face. ‘This, then, is the time when I will leave. Lady Galadriel was wrong. I 
can’t wait seven years. If I don’t get started now, it will be almost impossible to get 
started later. First, I will tend to Legolas, then to the future of my Dunedain. Then I will 
go.’
      He sighed, and prepared to do battle with the questions that would come with this 
decision. ‘Is Malacai healed enough to take command?’ Frowning, he stared up at the 
moon for a long while before he decided, ‘I can’t answer that yet.
      ‘What else must I know? Will Saru be all right- stable, sane, ready to take care of 
his children? Yes. I have seen as much. And he has Malacai and Annaleh, even if he 
doesn’t have Kehydi. And I must not give up on Kehydi just yet. Saru certainly hasn’t. 
And an important battle has been won this day.
      ‘Other matters? Will Sauron return? Doubtful, but perhaps.’ Aragorn answered 
this question with his instincts instead of his reasoning mind. ‘And if he does, the other 
Dunedain- Malacai, at least- know how to fight him off. No threat there.’
      An hour later, after considering the matter of the hobbits, the matter of Arwen- 
‘will she still be there for me? Do I care if she isn’t?-, the matter of Aaron’s healing, the 
carrying out of Jamien’s (and his fellow dissenters) return to the Dunedain in full 
standing, and the matter of his own readiness to go out into the wild alone, Aragorn was 
left with only a sliver of moon above the trees and two questions.
      Without thought, Aragorn turned to the tree and climbed to a high branch so he 
could keep the calming moon in his sight as long as possible.
      The first question was about him: Can I truly give Legolas up? I’ve been holding 
him here, and would try to hold him here longer if I could. As long as he’s nearby, there 
is a chance I will be able to confess my love.’ He sighed. ‘I love him, and thoughts of his 
mortality don’t dissuade me. Now I will have to give him up at last, and there is scarcely 
a chance we will meet again while this world lasts.’ Aragorn let a few selfish tears fall, 
then he brushed them away. ‘Aye, all that’s true, but I couldn’t hope to have the courage 
to tell him that I love him truly, not if he were here when I became king and I was finally 
almost worthy of his greatness.’
      With that painful, but strong, resolution, Aragorn was left with the disturbing 
question that had started his train of thought. ‘Is Malacai strong enough, healed enough, 
to serve in my stead for what might be twenty years, sixty years, or forever?’ He felt no 
closer to an answer.
      Suddenly, the veil before the moon rolled away, and the world was flooded with 
the moon’s pure light. Inspired, Aragorn realised, ‘I could take his full measure on the 
journey we take with Legolas. He is going to have to come with me. Which means 
Kehydi, stable or unstable, sure or unsure, will have to take charge here. And maybe that 
responsibility is just what Kehydi needs. I think we’ve been coddling him a bit too much, 
surely one of the worst sins one Dunadan can commit against another.’
      Aragorn smiled at the moon. ‘Thank you,’ he said to it. ‘Now let’s see if I can 
carry out your lessons.’ He leapt to the ground.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
      As the sun rose, Legolas emerged, tense and restless, from the tent he had shared 
with the other freed slaves. Many of the former slaves had been grumbling about what 
they were supposed to do against Sauron. How could Aragorn protect them? Why hadn’t 
they just stayed slaves? If they had, the civil war would have never broken out. Many 
blamed Aragorn for the deaths of their masters. Other griped that they would never be 
able to make a way for themselves outside the Dunedain, that Aragorn wasn’t really 
giving them freedom because they would have to stay Rangers forever. 
      Nella, losing patience with the grumblers, punched several of them. That had 
brought an uneasy peace, and in that sudden silence, Legolas had left. He crossed the 
camp to the central fire and sat there, longing both for peaceful silence and for company.
      He was rewarded with the second when Aaron hobbled to the fire and sat down. 
“Good morning, Legolas.” He sighed, stretched his legs out, and lit his pipe. “Looks you 
didn’t sleep well, either.”
      Legolas poked a stick into the fire and inhaled Aaron’s smoke, taking comfort in 
the familiar smell. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and imagined it was Aragorn 
sitting beside him.
      “There’s a part of me that wishes we’d taken on Sauron last night, full force. That 
we had proclaimed Aragorn king right in front of him. That we had frightened him badly 
enough to make him long to return to Mordor and never stray out again.”
      “We can’t do that while he’s still searching for his Ring,” Legolas said, almost 
angry at Aaron that he’d spoken. He sounded nothing like Aragorn. “I don’t want to talk, 
all right? I just want to sit and think.”
      “Hmm,” Aaron answered.
      Legolas started to stand. “If you want to talk, you’ll have to find someone else. I 
need to be alone.”
      “Then why come to the central fire?” Aaron’s voice was no louder, and he didn’t 
look at Legolas or reach for him, but his voice held the elf all the same. “What do you 
seek, Legolas?”
       “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be out finding it.”
      Aaron nodded. “I understand.”
      “How can you?”
      “Everyone looks for something, Legolas. If they find it, they’re happy. If they 
can’t, they’re miserable. But you’re at an even harder place: you want, and you need, but 
you don’t know exactly what draws at you. Love? Homesickness? Anger? A desire for 
independence? A need to return to the past?” He looked at Legolas and the sadness in his 
eyes startled Legolas so that he sank back to his place by the fire.
      “I’m sorry we can’t give you what you seek,” Aaron whispered. “I’m sorry we 
can’t make you happy here. Do you think you will be happier with the elves?”
      Legolas shook his head. “No. But I need to know them. If they are really my 
people, I need to know about them. The Dunedain… I want the Dunedain to always be 
my family. But I need to know about the elves of Mirkwood.”
      “I’ve heard King Thranduil is a hard but just leader. Aragorn wouldn’t send you 
to someone he didn’t know and trust.”
      “Has Aragorn met him?”
      “Aragorn rested on his hospitality for two months while recovering from two 
dozen spider-stings and a tenacious orc-poison. The Dunedain repaid the king with gold 
we were given by the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain for a service we rendered.”
      “He didn’t just take care of Aragorn out of kindness?”
      “King Thranduil is, above all else, a practical leader. He gave Aragorn everything 
he needed and more, but he wanted something in return. He didn’t ask for gold, or even 
for a true payment, but we have dealt with him too often to doubt that he would have 
made it very difficult for us if we hadn’t made him an offering.”
      “He doesn’t sound compassionate. I don’t think I’ll like him.”
      “He is compassionate to his own people. And he didn’t have to save Aragorn; he 
did it for the Queen, who still loves to travel to Lothlorien and Imladris from time to 
time, and who remained friends with Celebrain until she departed for the Undying Lands. 
Aragorn meant nothing to King Thranduil, but he was Elrond’s beloved foster son, so the 
King agreed to take him in and save his life.”
      Legolas made a face at the mention of Elrond. “What was Aragorn doing in 
Mirkwood alone?”
      “He was traveling to Lake-Town to speak with Bard about the recent fall of the 
dragon Smaug. Bard slew that dragon, so Aragorn circled around the crooked mayor and 
spoke directly to the man he saw as having the most honor. It was on his return from the 
Lake-Men that he was injured. The mayor hired several spies to follow Aragorn and 
waylay him in the woods. They did, managing to injure Aragorn slightly, but then they 
were set upon by orcs. Aragorn’s pursuers died, and he escaped, but the smell of his shed 
blood drew the spiders.”
      “You speak as if you were there.”
      Aaron laughed. “I was scarcely out of diapers when all this happened. But the 
Dunedain have ways of preserving our history so that we don’t repeat mistakes.” He 
smiled. “Cristan is getting old, or at least old for one of our people. He has been teaching 
me the old stories. I will take over for him as historian eventually.”
      “And is that where you get your happiness, Aaron?”
      Aaron threw his head back and laughed. “No…” He snorted, still laughing. “No… 
My happiness comes from serving Aragorn. I need nothing else.”
      Legolas sighed. “I wish I could be like that.”
      “No you don’t. I’m a simple man, Legolas. I’ll never win any contests for quick 
thinking, only for a quick punch and a quicker mouth. You will be renowned some day 
for your great achievements and your wisdom.”
      Legolas groaned. “I would rather be honored as Aragorn’s husband.”
      Aaron gazed at him for a moment, then doused his pipe and faced Legolas. 
Gently, he took the elf’s hands in his. “Legolas, I have found your need. It’s just as 
simple as mine, but it was harder to find. You need Aragorn.”
      Legolas tried to look away.
      “Don’t deny it, Legolas. You need Aragorn.”
      Legolas grimaced. “And so what if I do? I can’t be with him. Too much stands 
between us.”
      “That doesn’t sound like the Legolas I know and love,” Aaron said. “That sounds 
like a brainwashed Legolas. I want to hear the real Legolas speak.”
      “I… I’m not ready to confess myself to him.”
      “But you will be someday, and when you are, Aragorn will likewise be ready. Let 
me tell you a secret, Legolas: I think Aragorn is just as afraid as you are.”
***
      Aragorn took Malacai aside that same morning. They found themselves sharing 
the tree Aragorn had made use of the night before. Both of them looked ragged, and 
Aragorn wondered if he wore circles under his eyes as Malacai did. "Hard night," he said, 
smiling at his second.
      
      "We've had harder," Malacai replied at once. It was what he always said, whether 
it was true or not. This morning, the statement was true. They'd had much worse nights, 
though not one that seemed to last quite so long.
      
      "You didn't sleep after the Dark Lord's little attempt?" 
      
      "I could not." Malacai took a beautifully-crafted bow from its place on his back. 
"I finished the work on my present to Kehydi in honor of his marriage." 
      
      Aragorn raised an eyebrow.
      
      "He hasn't said anything about marriage," Malacai added, "but I was restless and 
needed something to do. Besides, this will help him when we are gone. It's stronger and 
shoots straighter than his old one." He smiled. "Legolas helped me with it, using 
whatever sixth sense he has about such things."
      
      "He gained much knowledge of the bow in Rohan and Gondor. More than I could 
have ever come away with. He will be a great asset to his people when he is home." He 
turned to gaze across the camp. He felt Malacai’s eyes on him and knew his second was 
waiting for the real reason Aragorn had called him away from breakfast with his wife. 
‘And since there is no easy way to tell him what I must tell him, I should just get this 
over with.’ Still, Aragorn sat, silent as stone, and thought about the night before. The 
moon had solved his problems for him until he started to wonder if maybe he was simply 
holding onto Malacai like… well, let’s be honest, like a security blanket. ‘I don’t want it 
to just be Legolas and me alone in the wilderness again. And once I give Legolas over to 
King Thranduil, it will be just me. And I think it will be very difficult to come back after 
Mirkwood. Whatever Lady Galadriel said about waiting seven years, she must have read 
it wrong. I feel the pull of the wilds- of Harad, Lebanon and Fregar especially- very 
strongly, and I think it is time to let my Dunedain survive on their own.
      ‘But come back I must, if for no other reason than to say good-bye to my 
Dunedain and to see if my experiment worked. Because if it didn’t, wanderlust and 
destiny can’t be obeyed. I’ll have to tend to the Dunedain.’
      “Aragorn, you’re frightening me.”
      Aragorn turned his eyes back to Malacai and his smile was sad and tired. 
“Malacai, would you let Legolas and I go alone to Mirkwood?”
      Malacai’s face grew dour at once. “Not willingly, Aragorn. It was hard enough to 
let you go the first time. What if the Dark Lord-”
      “He won’t concern himself with two riders in the wild. But he may come back for 
the Dunedain. I doubt it, but it’s possible. I need you here.” He took a deep breath and 
allowed himself to finally state his plan. “But I need you to stay out of sight. All will 
believe- your wife included- that you have gone with Legolas and I. Kehydi will assume 
command. He needs that opportunity, Malacai; desperately needs it. But our people also 
need to be protected. That will become your task. You will live outside the camp, 
unobserved, but always observing.”
      Malacai frowned. “I have lived outside a community as a spy before, Aragorn, but 
never outside the Rangers. It feels… wrong… somehow.”
      “Explain as well as you can.”
      Malacai grappled with that request for a moment, then said, “I think I’m only 
nervous about living outside a community of excellent trackers. These are no sheep that 
will suspect nothing, Aragorn; these are thirty or so trained women and men and their 
twenty children who are training in the same arts. How can I hope to elude them all?”
      “If you were any but my strong, reserved and composed second in command, I 
would never ask this of you.”
      “Tell me your secondary purpose for leaving me here, Aragorn. As your second, 
and as your friend, I deserve to know all that I’m being set up for.”
      “You read me so well… Malacai, I want to know if you will be strong when I 
have to leave. Lady Galadriel told me I wouldn’t be separated from the Dunedain for 
another seven years or so but-”
      “But it will be a much shorter time. You’ll be gone before spring.”
      Aragorn blinked. “Aye. And you know because…?”
      “I sensed it.” Malacai gripped Aragorn’s shoulder. “I love you, Aragorn, and I 
will not betray you. I will do what you ask and more: I will start planning a way that we 
can be closer to the hobbits and yet be free to pursue other battles against the Shadow. 
It’s time we took him on nearer to his own home.”
      “Yes…. it is time.” Amazed and honored to have such a man beside him, Aragorn 
didn’t realise that two tears were making their way down his cheeks.
      Malacai reached out and wiped them away. “Now let me give you a challenge, 
Aragorn, since you have set one before me. And I pray you tend to it will all seriousness. 
I want you to tell Legolas how you feel before you reach Mirkwood. That is your task. 
Legolas, I think, has a secret in his past, one that will change how you see him. Before 
that change can occur, please, please tell him how much you love him. Tell him, if you 
must, that you cannot marry him, that you must, for whatever reason, marry a female. 
Call it Gondorian precedent or whatever you like. But tell him you love him. He needs to 
know.”
      Aragorn was shaking his head. “Won’t my confession only hurt him?”
      “He already loves you, Aragorn. He needs to know you love him in return. Please 
tell him. Legolas will understand- even if I do not- why affairs of state and other duties 
must come before love. Tell him.”
      The not-so-subtle rebuke wasn’t lost on Aragorn. “I cannot marry him, Malacai.”
      Malacai sighed. “You were ever stubborn, Estel. Even when you struggled to 
learn all you could, you were stubborn. But that doesn’t change my request: tell him of 
your love.” Malacai met Aragorn’s gaze and held it. “Promise me, Dunadan.”
      Aragorn swallowed. “I promise, Dunadan. I will tell Legolas of my love before 
we come to Mirkwood and he is changed.”
      Malacai nodded. “And I promise you, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, that I will do all 
you have asked of me.”
      Aragorn reached out and Malacai caught his hand. The two sat in that way for 
several minutes. At last, Aragorn said, “I love you.”
      “And I you.”
***
      Aragorn found Legolas as morning rolled over to afternoon. “We’ll be leaving 
tomorrow morning as soon as there’s enough light.”
      Legolas nodded. He was sewing one of his tunics by the fire and he didn’t even 
look at Aragorn.
      The chief shifted from foot to foot for a moment, then added, “You can keep 
Kendall. He loves you.”
      Stitch. Stitch. Pull the thread. “Thank you.” Stitch. Stitch.
      Aragorn left him to his work.
***
      Under an aspen tree, in the soft, warm breeze, Saru rocked Adalai. Cein was 
asleep on the blanket beside him. Kehydi was off with his father, building a double cradle 
for the little ones. Saru sang a cradle-song low, his eyes moving between his babes. 
      Blue and white, sky with clouds,
      White on green, daises on grass,
      Green on brown, leaves on trees,
      Brown on gold, shadows and sun.
      Twas only a nonsense song, but Annaleh had taught it to him when he was young, 
and Saru longed to teach his children everything he had learned in his resurrected life as a 
Dunadan. ‘They’ll not know I was a slave, not until they’re older. Instead, I’ll teach them 
what being a Ranger means, and they will grow up in the love of their people.’ Saru’s 
gaze drifted to the edge of the camp, where Malacai and Kehydi had disappeared an hour 
ago to begin the cradle.
      ‘And soon, when I’m strong, Kehydi and I will wed.’ He didn’t allow himself to 
hope too much, or to doubt. ‘And if we are not wed, I will still be all right. I can make it 
so. Adalai and Cein need me to be all right.’
      A shadow fell over him then, and Saru looked up, startled. But it was only 
Legolas, smiling down at him. Saru saw the uncertainty in Legolas’ eyes and murmured, 
“Sit with me a while, Legolas. I could do with the company.”
      Legolas sat gratefully. He picked up Cein and rocked her. “I’ll be going in the 
morning.” His eyes were on the child, and his voice was scarcely above a whisper.
      Saru nodded, accepting this. “I want to see you again. Will you return to the 
camp?”
      “If I may. I have heard that King Thranduil of Mirkwood is very particular about 
his people traveling abroad.”
      “Maybe I’ll come there, then.”
      “Mirkwood is dangerous. It isn’t like the other elven kingdoms. Dark creatures 
walk side-by-side with elvenfolk.”
      “Like the Dunedain walk shoulder-to-shoulder with orcs and wild men 
sometimes. I’ll be all right. I’ll come when I can, and we will renew our friendship.”
      Legolas squeezed Saru’s shoulder. “You could come with me now. I would make 
sure, and Aragorn would make sure, that King Thranduil would accept you.”
      “I won’t give up on Kehydi. Besides, I want Cein and Adalai to be raised among 
the Rangers. I want them to always have a place to call home.”
      “They could be at home with the elves, and Kehydi isn’t worth waiting for.”
      Saru turned to Legolas and met his gaze. “I love Kehydi. Nothing will change 
that.”
      “He won’t stop hurting you.”
      “I care not.”
      “He might hurt the children.”
      Subconsciously, Saru drew Adalai closer. “He won’t. I won’t let him.”
      “Come where you don’t have to fear that.” Legolas’ eyes were pleading. “Please, 
Saru. Come away with me. There is a better place than this.”
      Saru lowered his gaze. “Not for me. I can’t move again, Legolas. I’m too afraid.”
      Urgently, Legolas tugged at Saru’s sleeve until Saru was looking at him again. 
“I’d be there with you. I would help you.”
      Saru looked at Legolas, then down at Cein sleeping in the elf’s arms. She seemed 
so contented there. ‘Would they be safer with the elves?’ Saru felt the tears starting, but 
refused to let them fall. He fought to think clearly. ‘I must do what is right for my babes. 
They are my life. Kehydi isn’t, not anymore. He could be, but these miracles have to be 
protected at all costs.’
      In his arms, Adalai stirred and opened his beautiful eyes. He yawned.
      Saru kissed his forehead. “Good afternoon,” he whispered, and then lifted his son 
so he could drink.
      ‘He looks so much like Kehydi…’ Saru squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, 
desperate to keep the tears back now. He didn’t want Legolas to see them and interrupt 
his thoughts in an attempt to soothe him.
      ‘Safety for my babes… Is it here or in Mirkwood? Both places are dangerous. But 
elves might be kinder. Not all men can be trusted… Maybe some elves can’t be trusted. 
How do I choose what is best for them?’ Saru shook his head. ‘I cannot know anything 
about these elves. I should base my decision on the facts I know only. Would Legolas 
take care of me? Yes. Would Malacai and Annaleh take care of me? Yes. Would I be 
lonely in Mirkwood? Almost certainly yes. Legolas would have elves to meet and a new 
life to begin. I would be a burden to him. Would I be lonely here? Possibly. Could I 
survive without Kehydi? Yes, but I can do that here as well as there. Would my babes be 
in danger from Kehydi here? Maybe. Would they be in danger in Mirkwood from the 
orcs and spiders and whatever else lives there? Almost certainly. Could I be happy in 
Mirkwood? I can be happy anywhere, as long as I have my babes. Which means I could 
be happy here, too.’
      Again, Saru looked at Cein in Legolas’ arms. ‘Could I send her with him and… 
Never. I can’t lose her.’
      Saru bit his lip. “Legolas, I can’t go with you. I will stay here. I’ll be all right. So 
will my little ones. We’re safer surrounded by the dangers we know than if we were 
surrounded by the dangers we don’t.”
      Legolas nodded. “I didn’t think you would leave. But I had to try.” He leaned 
forward and kissed Saru’s cheek. “I love you, Saru. I don’t want to see you hurt, but I 
can’t stay to protect you.”
      “I’m not asking you to. Go with Aragorn to Mirkwood. Find your family. I have 
mine here; go find yours.” He smiled. “And maybe we will see each other again, Legolas. 
I know how unlikely that is, but it’s still possible. Don’t lose faith.”
      “I lost faith a long time ago, Saru.”
      Saru shook his head. “If you had lost it completely, you wouldn’t be sitting here. 
You would have saddled Kendall long ago and fled.” He touched Legolas’ cheek. “You 
have faith and hope that everything will still turn out for the best. Don’t give up on it.”
      Legolas turned and kissed Saru’s fingers. “I love you, Saru.”
      “I know. Now go get ready. You have many to say good-bye to.”
      “I’ve already said the hardest one.” Legolas returned Cein to the blanket and 
stood. He rested his hand on Saru’s shoulder. “I love you, Saru.” He laughed bitterly. “I 
don’t think I can stop saying that.”
      Saru squeezed Legolas’ fingers. “Then say it every day, Legolas. I will. I love 
you. We will meet again. I promise.”
      Legolas dashed a few tears from his cheeks and left Saru under the tree.
***
      Malacai kissed Legolas’ forehead. “I won’t be going with you,” he whispered, 
“even if you hear differently. Go with Aragorn and know that all our hopes ride with you. 
Find a home, Legolas. That is my wish for you. Find a home and happiness.”
      Legolas hugged him. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. I feel like I’m being pulled in two.”
      “You are.” Malacai held Legolas and stroked his hair. “And the only comfort I 
can give is that it will lessen in time until you can’t remember feeling that way.”
      “I hope you’re right. It hurts too much this way.”
      Malacai opened his mouth to say something, then stopped.
      “What is it?”
      Malacai shook his head. “It isn’t my place to say such things to you. Let it go, 
Legolas.”
      “No.” Legolas stepped back. “We’re alone, Malacai. If you have any wisdom for 
me, I beg you to