When Elladan finally left, Gerithor was disappointed. He and the elf had quickly become good friends and had talked for hours. The elf, though young in appearance, was thousands of years old and had many adventures to share, and wise council to give. Gerithor was all too eager to listen, for though he was a Ranger he still had much to learn of the world and its ways.

As he pondered all that he had been told, it occurred to him that his father was staying nearby. He had felt a mixture of surprise and joy when he had been told that his father lived, but in the excitement of all that had happened he had been too busy to stop in and see him. He quickly got up and walked out into the light-filled hallway, squinting a little as the beams of light hit his eyes. He stopped in front of the door that he had been told was his father's and knocked. His heart leapt for joy when he heard his father's voice.

"Come in!" Gerimond said as he opened the door and embraced his son. "It's so good to see you! I thought you must have perished in the massacre, but when I heard that you had survived I was overjoyed!"

"As was I when I heard about you, father," Gerithor said, hugging his father tightly. When they parted both of their faces were wet with tears of joy and relief.

"Come and sit down, we can talk for a little while," Gerimond said and motioned towards a chair. Gerithor sat eased into the chair, still unused to elven comfort. His father slowly sat down the side of his bed. He was silent for a moment, then spoke, tears still in his eyes.

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said, choking a little at the words. Gerithor leaned forward and rested a hand on his father's shoulder. Tears fell down his face as well as he spoke.

"No father, I'm sorry. It was my fault, I could've saved her."

"No, it isn't either of our faults, I think. There's nothing we could've done," Gerimond said and regained his composure. "Do not blame yourself for your mother's death Gerithor." He put an arm around his son. Gerithor looked up at his father.

"I can't help but blame myself. I see it every night in my dreams. I could have stopped it."

"What do you mean?" Gerimond looked at his son with concern.

"I-" Gerithor stopped for a moment. "I had a dream before it happened. In it I saw mother die. In the exact same way it actually happened." He looked at his father.

Gerimond's eyes widened in surprise. There was a moment of silence before he spoke, his tone cautious, as if speaking of something that should not be spoken of. "Have you had dreams like that before?"

"Yes. I dreamt about killing the deer with Aragorn a week before it happened. And before uncle Arathorn died I had a dream about that as well. I'm not sure how it can be happening. I've read of the elves possessing such power, but..." He trailed off.

"Son... Many of the Numenoreans of old also had the gift of foresight. Some could even see into the future through dreams," he said and looked at Gerithor. "One of our kind has not had that skill in hundreds of years. At least, until now."

"How? I have no more Numenorean blood than you," Gerithor replied, looking up at his father in confusion.

"I do not know," Gerimond replied truthfully. "But it may be a valuable skill to have, if nothing else."

"If all it shows is the death of those I care about, I do not want it," Gerithor said bitterly.

"But it may not. You may see other things, and now that you know that they aren't mere dreams, it may show you how to prevent the deaths of those you love."

Gerithor looked away, unwilling to speak of the matter any further. He felt confused, and angry. Who would be cruel enough to bestow such a double-edged-sword of a gift upon him? And why?

After a moment of silence, they moved on to more pleasant topics. After what must have been over an hour, a blond-haired elf looked in through the door, his expression apologetic.

"I apologize for the interruption, m'lords, but Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you both."

They both nodded, and Gerimond rose from his seat with a grunt. "Aye, we'll be there."

"Very good, I shall tell him immediately." With that the elf disappeared back into the hallway.

Gerithor stood and followed Gerimond to the door. The older ranger looked his son up and down and smiled slightly.

"Your choice of garb is practical, I like it. That being said," he continued, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "You may want to change into something more fitting of elvish feasts," he pointedly glanced at Gerithor's mud stained pants and boots.

"You're right, of course. I wouldn't want the elves to think lowly of me," Gerithor said sheepishly as he followed his father's gaze down to his boots, which were caked with mud.

"I do not think you need to worry about that, as from what I've been told they already hold you in high esteem. But still, it would be polite."

Gerithor smiled and went back to his room. He threw off his dirty clothes and looked in the small closet. He saw several different sets of clothes, all of elvish design. Finally, he settled on a long dark blue tunic with grey sleeves. It looked the least elvish he thought. He put it on as well as some matching grey pants and a belt over the tunic, adjusting it as he strode over to the washbasin and quickly cleaned his face and hair, enjoying the rush of cool water upon his skin. It was the first time he felt clean in forever.

Looking himself over in the mirror. he absently brushed his hair back, hoping that he looked at least a little less haggard. Seeing the cuts and scrapes that covered his fair skin reminded him of the trials of the previous days, thoughts he was eager to leave behind. He quickly turned away from the mirror, opening the door and venturing out into the hallway.

He arrived just in time. A long table laden with food was in Elrond's hall, and several elves, including Elrond himself, sat at it. He also saw his companions and several other people he didn't recognize. He noted that Caledorn was absent, although he wasn't surprised. The dark elf always seemed to have his secrets.

Gerimond motioned to him and he took a seat in between his father and Sarina, slightly surprised that they seemed to have been deep in conversation before he even arrived.

"I take it you've already been introduced?" He looked back and forth between the two.

"Yes, we have," his father said. Sarina nodded and smiled. She was wearing a dark blue dress and a silver circlet. Gerithor thought that she would have almost looked Elven, except she was clearly uncomfortable in the elegant clothing and fidgeted with it restlessly. Gerithor smiled warmly at her, then turned to look at Eldahir, who sat across from them.

"This elvish food, it's good!" Eldahir said. "Although I could wish for some more meat..." He held up a large piece of lettuce and laughed lightly as he took a bite of it.

"Aye, I can agree there," Gerithor said as he ate some cheese. It had a fresh, light taste unlike any cheese he had tasted before, yet at the same time it was wholesome and

"Can you believe it? We're in Rivendell! We always imagined we'd come here one day." Eldahir smiled widely as he spoke. Just then Gerithor looked up as Caledorn entered the room, his dark cloak sweeping behind him. He went straight to Elrond and began whispering something in his ear.

Elrond listened, then called the table to silence. When it was completely silent, he spoke.

"We received word that an army is making its way to Fornost. It is led by a general of Angmar named Arnakhor." At this Gerithor tensed up, and looked at his father. Gerimond seemed to know too and his eyes narrowed.

"We must not let them take it. If they do, all the west will be in danger; The Grey Havens, the Shire, Bree." At the mention of Bree Gerithor saw Sarina flinch. "Their army is many thousands strong. Even if we arrive in Fornost before them, there is almost no chance we would have victory." Elrond scanned the faces of everyone in the room.

Just then Gerimond stood up. "Arnakhor is their leader. If we kill him their armies will be in chaos."

"Yes, you are indeed right. My friend Caledorn has suggested the same thing." He made a gesture toward Caledorn.

"We will need a small group to strike when the attack is in progress. Arnakhor will most likely stay near the rear of the army until the end of the assault, giving orders. If we kill him the army will not receive orders, and we can cut them down while they're in disarray." Caledorn said matter-of-factly.

"I volunteer to be part of the group." Gerimond said. Gerithor looked at his father. He wasn't surprised that Gerimond volunteered, after all Arnakhor had killed Elena. Gerithor stood up beside his father.

"I will go as well."

Eldahir stood up. "I'll go too. He does what I do, just better." He smiled roguishly at Gerithor. Gerithor smirked back.

"As will I." Gerithor and Eldahir both turned in surprise as they saw Sarina stand. "My loyalties lie with the Dunedain." She looked at Gerithor with a look that Gerithor didn't quite understand, but he smiled kindly back at her.

"Then it is decided. You four shall go. Caledorn will provide cover for you until you're close enough, then he'll cause havoc behind the enemy lines." Elrond looked at Caledorn. "Do you have any who would go with you?"

"I have a dozen good archers from Mirkwood, as well as three scouts."

"Good, that should be enough. We have sent scouts to the Dunedain at Annuminas, and Halbarad's force should be at Fornost by nightfall." Elrond looked at Gerimond.

"You will be the leader of this group. May they serve you well."

Gerimond looked at his three companions. "We ride out in the morning."

Gerithor raised his fist in the air, and yelled "Defend the North!" Eldahir and Sarina joined in the cry.

Gerimond looked at his son with pride, and responded.

"Defend the North!"

Elrond studied the four intently.

"You should all make preparations if you've had enough to eat," He said.

The three young warriors left the hall quickly.

===============================

Gerithor didn't take long to prepare, and soon found himself wandering the gardens. It was getting dark out and the moon cast a pale, beautiful light on it. He found the place incredibly peaceful, and was happy to be completely alone for the first time in a while.

Just then he heard something in the bushes and quickly turned around. Eldahir snapped his fingers in disappointment.

"Why can't I ever sneak up on you?" He said and laughed.

"Well, do you want me to list the reasons? First off, you're loud, second, I'm a ranger, third-" Eldahir cut him off with a light punch to the chest. Gerithor pretended to be in pain and then laughed.

"So what brings you out here, trying to sneak up on me?" Gerithor raised his eyebrow at his friend. Eldahir laughed.

"Do I need a reason?"

"No... But you usually have something to talk about." Gerithor looked at his friend a little more seriously.

"Well I did want to hear about your journey..." Eldahir said with a grin. So Gerithor recounted the whole story to his friend in detail, ending with when they met him in the forest.

"My, that's quite the adventure," Eldahir said. Gerithor looked over at him.

"I'm not sure "adventure" is the word I'd use. I always thought of adventures as exciting, fun things with treasure at the end. This was very different." He went silent, and they both just stood there for a moment, looking at the garden.

"I um, actually have something I needed to tell you," Eldahir said with some caution, pausing a minute before continuing. "I think I'm in love."

Gerithor nearly doubled over with laughter. "Well of all things, that was what I expected the least!" Gerithor said between laughs.

"What's so funny about it?" Eldahir looked genuinely hurt. Gerithor noticed and stopped, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I meant no disrespect. I just don't really see you as that type. Is it an elf you met here?"

"Not exactly..."

Gerithor suddenly understood. "It's Sarina isn't it?"

Eldahir shifted uncomfortably. Gerithor smiled slightly.

"When did this happen?"

"When I first saw her I suppose," he shrugged. "We talked a little earlier, and I was drawn to everything about her."

"From what I've seen, she's a good woman," Gerithor said. "Kind, caring, adventurous."

"And beautiful." Eldahir added. Gerithor smiled.

"That too. Why are you so nervous about telling me?"

Eldahir looked at his friend seriously. "Well, I noticed that you two seem to get along really well, and I thought..."

"Nonsense friend, I just met her." Gerithor smiled reassuringly. "Besides, out of the two of us you're the better looking." He laughed.

"Really? You don't have feelings for her?" Eldahir looked hopefully at his friend.

"No, I haven't had a chance to. I've felt attracted to her, yes. But I'm better off alone anyway. That's the life I'm used to." He turned away slightly, then looked back with a smile. "I wish you the best of luck. She will see your worth."

Eldahir smiled at his friend. They embraced, then Eldahir looked back to the guest house.

"I haven't packed at all yet, I'd better go do that. Thanks for talking friend." He patted Gerithor on the shoulder and jogged back toward his quarters. Gerithor watched him leave, then let out a sigh and looked up at the stars, all alone once more