Prologue

He blinked slowly a few times and labouringly forced his gaze to settle on his lord once more. A shudder ran through him as the cold slowly faded from his limbs. Elrond was still droning on about the contracts necessary for the building of a new bridge across the Bruinen and the discussion seemed to drag on forever. As if they did not have enough bridges in Imladris.

Sighing he glanced at the bored faces of the other councilors, his expression changing to a glare as he noticed the strange look Glorfindel was giving him. He could not have been gone that long.

"…what do you think, Erestor?"

"Well, my Lord…" Erestor stood up, quickly forcing a mask of indifference to his face as he collected himself before giving his opinion on which offer from the local stone mazons was the best in a rather elaborate speech.

He stood on a balcony in the gardens of the Last Homely House, looking out onto one of the many waterfalls of the Bruinen, eagerly taking in the peaceful view in front of him. It was strange how the rumbling of the falling water always seemed to suit his many moods. Sighing he rested his elbows on the stone railing that secured the balcony. Robes rustled behind him.

"What do you want?" he asked softly, his tone betraying no emotion, "You have no reason to disturb my solitude."

"Do you wish for solitude then?" Glorfindel's soft voice asked compassionately.

Erestor cringed. "I always do." He said calmly.

"But it need not be that way, meldir," Glorfindel stepped out onto the balcony and stood next to the black-clad advisor, resting a hand on the dark elf's shoulder, "There are many who would be there for you, if you only let them close."

Ersetor flinched.

"Elrond and I am but two of them. What is troubling you, meldir?"

"Nothing is troubling me." Erestor snapped, stepping away from Glorfindel, "I would ask you to kindly leave me now."
For some seconds Glorfindel stared at the other's cold, emotionless eyes and then nodded, shivering as he retreated. He worried about the dark-haired councilor, he always had, but he could not say why.

Somehow Erestor managed to control his trembling till Glorfindel was out of sight but as soon as the blond was gone, wild tremors rocked his body. Today had been a close call. He had felt the cold.

"Duathion…" he whispered, wrapping his arms around his waist as he slowly walked back to his room. "Duathion…" His mind was so caught in times long past that he did not notice Glorfindel lurking nearby, watching his every step with worried blue eyes.

"But it need be this way," Erestor whispered shakily as he entered the safety of his rooms, carefully locking the door behind him, "And it may never change."

With a few uneven steps the raven-haired elf crossed the room and drew the black curtains shut. It was already late and he did not want Ithil to illuminate his chamber.

At times like these he could not bear its soft glow. He froze with his hands still on the the curtain, head bent so that his hair blocked everything but the dark fabric from his view.

Even after so many millenia he could not let go of the darkness. A darkness that had always distanced him from others.

Sighing Erestor turned and climbed into bed, at once curling up into a foetal position. He knew he would not sleep well tonight. All he could do was try to keep the worst of the shadow at bay.

He shuddered as the cold embraced him again. Everything around him was black. He knew that he was asleep but his mind felt wide awake and alert and he knew that whatever would follow would be more than a simple dream. And that he had no chance of preventing it.

He moaned, trashing around in his sleep as he dreamt of someone calling out to him. He felt that this someone was in grave danger and that he would be able to help but he could not make out who was calling for help. He knew that is was an elf, an elf he did not know but knew of and as the stranger's pleas for help filled his ears with a suffocating roar the blackness suddenly vanished and he saw a landscape instead.

A black landscape, a black castle with a high tower nestled against a black mountain range and a single, fire-spitting mountain not far from it. He knew it only too well. He seemed to fly down, past the mountain where the ring had been destroyed and into the burned ruins of Barad Dûr. Ruins that should have been empty for almost a decade now.

Orcs were running around the place, snarling and yelling at each other as they cleared the halls of Barad Dûr from debris and stones, some of them even erecting a throne in what was once the great hall. Erestor shivered as his feet suddenly touched the ground and he stood among the shuffling orcs, alone, vulnerable. They did not notice him though.

All of a sudden a figure stood on the steps in front of the newly erected black throne, with its back turned to the advisor. Erestor shivered, feeling millenia of memories crushing onto him as the figure turned around and red eyes drilled into his, angrily tearing to the very core of his being. He knew these eyes.

"Erestor! Erestor!" A voice was calling him and he sat up, trying to fight off his attacker but found himself held down once more. "Erestor?" another voice this time.

"It will drown," Erestor whispered, "Mirkwood will drown…"

Someone slapped him and he opened his eyes, staring at Elrond and Glorfindel, his whole body shivering violently with cold sweat. Slowly the raven-haired advisor shook his head. "Why are you here?" he croaked finally.

Elrond merely raised an eyebrow.

"I heard you scream," Glorfindel explained, carefully letting go of Erestor's wrists and sitting down on the bed, "I was on my way to my chamber when I passed your door and upon hearing your screams tried to wake you. When I failed, I called Elrond."

"Thank you… for waking me," Erestor whispered weakly, gathering the blanket around him, "But I would prefer to be alone now."

"But you can't just…" Glorfindel started but was at once silenced by Elrond.

"I am sure your concern is quite appreciated, meldir," the elf-lord said with a pointed glance at Erestor, "But I'd rather you'd give me some time with my chief advisor now."

"Of course, my lord." Glorfindel got up and indicate a bow, knowing that it was impossible to contradict Elrond when the peredhil was in this mood. He looked at the shivering elf in the bed once more and then pulled the door shut behind him, intent on finding out about the reasons for Erestor's nightmare in the morning.

Erestor relaxed visibly as soon as Glorfindel had left his rooms. Elrond could be difficult but not as stubborn as Glorfindel. "I am alright," he said, knowing that his voice was anything but convinving.

"So I see," Elrond retorted dryly. "Since when have you had these nightmares?"

"'Twas only tonight that…"

"Do not lie to me Erestor!" Elrond's voice was more than sharp, "I have known you since I came to serve under Gil-Galad and I know you well enough to tell when you are lying."

"For quite some nights now," Erestor mumbled, "But I can't think what triggered them." he added, hoping that Elrond would not detect the half-lie.

"I could give you a sleeping potion…." Elrond said finally, after staring intently at Erestor.

"No, thank you my lord, I will be better off without."

"Just one more thing," Elrond said with a sigh.

"Yes my lord?"

"When you woke you said that Mirkwood would drown… what did you mean by that?"

"I do not know my lord."

"Tell me Erestor… have you ever had some sort of… visions or precognition of the future."

"No."

"Very well, I will leave you to your rest then. You will not appear for work the next three days. And no," Elrond continued as he saw Erestor's look, "I will not be moved on the subject. You are to stay away from any work till you are rested enough to do it properly, understood?"

"Yes my lord."

Erestor got up as soon as Elrond had left the room and quickly washed himself in the adjoining bathroom that was part of his chambers. Even the water could not take away the chill he felt. Wrapping himself tightly into a blanket he opened the curtains and stepped onto his balcony. Ithil stood high in the sky, shining upon Arda in a peaceful silvery light. Sighing he sat down, gazing at the waves of the Bruinen, which were softly lapping against the banks of the river. On nights like these he could hear the waves sing, hear them sing of the sea far, far away and the silver shores that lay beyond. Elrond and his household would travel there after Arwen's death but he would not go with them. The shadow was still too strong. He just had to find a way of telling Elrond.

Still shivering he rested his back against the wall, preparing to spend the rest of the night awake. If he had the next few days off anyway, it would be better to sleep in the daylight hours. Maybe the dreams would not trouble him then

Elvish Translations:

Arda Middle Earth

Duathion Son of the Shadow, Shadowson

Gwatha trî lumiath Tainted by Shadows

Ithil Moon

Meldir my friend

Peredhil half-elf