low groan, blinked—and grew tense. From one second to the next, Robb was wide awake, startling to sit bolt upright. His chest was heaving, eyes unseeing for just a moment before Robb realised who stood before him. Exhaling sharply, Robb relaxed. It was a conscious thing, his muscles unwinding one by one, as if he had to force himself to lower his guard.

Nevertheless, a smile spread across Robb's face. There was a scar on his right cheek just below the cheekbone that pulled tight at the movement. It was nearly healed, pale pink and barely raised. Robb's red hair flopped over his forehead when he nodded at them in greeting, although one of the strands was now almost white.

"Hello," Robb said.

Immediately, both Aragorn and Boromir surged forward, various exclamations of relief and concern on their lips. Robb huffed a laugh and finally dismounted the horse. His knees buckled when he hit the ground, but they caught him by his shoulders before he could fall.

Robb flinched almost imperceptibly before catching himself and drawing Aragorn into a hug.

"Thank you," he murmured, squeezing Aragorn's shoulder.

He stepped back, and then his arms were slung around Boromir, his face buried in his shoulder. Boromir's breath shuddered, and his hands shook when he wrapped them around Robb's back.

"Robb." Boromir's voice cracked. "Robb, I am sorry. So sorry."

Robb's fingers tightened on his back and he raised his head with a frown. "What for?"

"I was there—"

"No." Robb shook his head, his eyes firmly fixed on Boromir's. "You have nothing to apologise for, Boromir. I chose to lead them away from you. I would do it again. Besides, I am alright now, aren't I?"

Boromir swallowed, his eyes flickering to the new scar, the grey streak of hair. "Are you sure?"

Robb drew back with a tight smile and spread his arms. "Aye. Not a scratch on me."

Certainly, the blood-soaked tunic and breeches told a different story. Robb seemed to realise the same thing, wincing when he looked down at himself.

"Not anymore," he amended. His eyes flickered back up. "...You should see the other guys?"

Aragorn sighed. "I will have a look at you later. For now, I think there are others who wish to welcome you back."

Robb looked around. When he caught sight of Gimli and Legolas, he cracked a grin. Legolas had a hand on Gimli's shoulder, ostensibly to hold the Dwarf back, but he, too, wore a wider smile than Boromir had ever seen on him. Robb let himself be adequately greeted by the both of them, Gimli's hug clearly squeezing every last bit of air from his lungs.

Next to Boromir, Glorfindel dropped gracefully to the ground, only to be drawn into Aragorn's arms at the very next moment, as well. Instead of becoming tense or irritated, as Boromir had expected of an Elf of his reputation, Glorfindel gave a clear chuckle and embraced Aragorn just as tightly.

"You cannot imagine how glad I am to see you," Aragorn murmured, and Boromir had half a mind to turn away, to leave them to reunite without the obvious eavesdropper. Aragorn kept speaking before he could. "And how much I owe you for doing what I could not."

Boromir froze, breath catching in his throat. He had hoped, of course—known—that Aragorn felt more than just a fraction of the same guilt that swamped Boromir himself. But to hear—

Drawing back, Glorfindel briefly tipped his forehead to rest against Aragorn's.

"You owe me nothing, Estel," he said. Then, with a lopsided smile, "I was, after all, far less involved in the whole affair than you seem to think."

"But you freed him from the Uruk-Hai?"

"Oh, he freed himself," Glorfindel said, his eyes gleaming. "Escaped Isengard with scarcely more than the clothes on his back. We met on the road, purely by chance."

Even as Boromir turned to stare at Robb—grinning, laughing at whatever Gimli and Legolas were once again bickering about—he saw Aragorn close his eyes. Saw his face fall, felt his own do the same at this confirmation of what they had all feared but prayed had not come to pass.

He exhaled sharply. "Is he—?"

"I would not presume to speak for him," Glorfindel said with a shake of his head, finally taking a hold of the reins of his horse, which until now had dangled uselessly in the air. "And I know not what he had to suffer. But he is tired, hungry, and—at the risk of sounding self-serving—in desperate need of a bath."

Next to him, Aragorn huffed a weak laugh. "I suppose we can manage to take care of at least that before Saruman's forces arrive."

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Sindarin translations:

Mae govannen! Gwannas lû and.

    = Well met! It has been too long.

Naw!

    = Indeed!

Ach amman odúleg hi?

    = But why are you here?

Tôl auth.

    = War is coming.

Paer menig yrch anglennar o Angrenost. Dhe nathathon.

    = Ten thousand orcs approach from Isengard. I will help you.

Gin hannon.

    = Thank you.

Tygin ben-eleg a nin.

    =  I brought someone else with me.

Ma den?

    = Who is it?

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Hope you enjoyed!!

If any of you want to scream to me about Tolkien or asoiaf or just anything, actually, hmu on twitter/x!! I'm @rosternoster there :)