Aragorn would learn quickly that touch was not an easy thing for Maedhros to bear. For a time it had been easier, when Elrond and Elros had been under his immediate care. But since the Silmaril had scorched his remaining hand, it was harder than ever. Elrond's touch was one of healing and love. Aragorn's was still unknown. He didn't apologize.

"It will not be long before I am well enough to travel and fight with you." He healed quickly, and trusted the pace was quickened by Elrond's skill. "The Ring will be found and destroyed." There was no other option that he would allow while there was breath in his body. And this Man would not fall in the doing.

His lips quirked and a touch of almost affection touched his gaze. Aragorn hardly knew him and didn't want him to follow blindly into danger. "My life has not been easy since before the Sun and Moon rose. There is no reason that should change now, only that I have more reason than ever to go out on the beaten and unbeaten path.

"Lord Elrond is having my clothing and armor mended as we speak." Quite possibly himself. "They will be ready when we are."