Aragorn: 8 years old 

"Ada! Ada!" Arwen screamed as she ran into her father's room.

Elrond looked up from his book and looked to his daughter running in frantically,

"What is it?" he asked in alarm.

"Aragorn!"

"Shh..." Elrond said quick, "We can't call him that out loud sweetheart,"

"Greakth!" Arwen started to cry, "He did something!"

Tears were now streaming down her face. She couldn't stop them from falling down her cheeks.

"What happened?" Elrond asked and set down his book on a nearby table so Arwen could sit in his lap.

Arwen sniffed and whispered,

"Greakth threw Estel off a bridge!"

"Arwen..." Elrond didn't quite process this fully, "I'm sure there was been some misunderstanding,"

Arwen could only bow her head and cry into her father's chest as he took her in and gave her a hug.

-----

Aragorn reached out, his arms flailing for something he could grasp onto. He managed to grab hold of a vine that was hanging off an enormous nearby tree. The vine was covered in ice and made Aragorn's hand slide right through it fast.

His hand burned as the vine ripped open his skin. The force of his plummet made his hand slide just a bit too fast down the vine.

The vine ran out of length and Aragorn did a free fall again. There was a tall boulder to the left of him and thinking fast he reached out and grabbed the edge of the rock. His arm twisted backwards as his body fell and tumbled over the boulder to the right side. He rolled over the icy tip and tumbled to the bottom of the sharp rocks.

He landed on his stomach and could do no more than to lay there helplessly. It was then that he could feel the pain on his left hand from sliding down the vine and his left arm from him landing on it so hard. He could hardly believe he was alive. If it hadn't been for him grabbing the vine to slow his descent, he would surely be dead.

A wave of black passed throughout him suddenly, inviting him to simply shut his eyes and let everything go. A cloud of sickening colors veiled his eyes. He could feel himself giving up and passing out. How easy for him to just shut his eyes and drift away.

Get up!

Aragorn brought himself to look ahead of him. The rushing water kept crashing onto the rocks causing him to get splashed by the water every now and then. His eye sight was blurry and very unclear. He mustered up all his strength to look at his injured hand and arm. Once he gave a quick glance at them he rested his head down on the rough rocks.

His hand was sliced open from the vine and his tender flesh was visible. His arm was definitely broken, again, no doubt. There was blood gushing widely out of that as well. Aragorn could barely move his arm without wincing in pain.

What would happen next? What am I supposed to tell Elrond?

Aragorn looked up again and realized his vision was getting a little better. He waited about ten minutes for it to go back to normal and finally it did. He figured he could climb back up the mountain to Rivendell before night time so he slowly got up.

He put all his weight on his right arm and immediately felt dizzy after standing. He crouched for a moment not wanting to be left down in a pile of rocks to freeze to death in the middle of winter.

Eventually, he gained all his power to climb the mountain back up to the actual Rivendell area with the buildings. He knew it would take him all day at the pace he was going, but he didn't want to push it and go any faster.

As he climbed, he began to get really worried about what Elrond would say about the situation at hand.