Chapter Eleven

[Sindarin]

"What has happened here, Gilraen?" asked Elrond as he joined the woman sitting on the outcropping of rock, watching Estel, Elrohir and Elladan have a swim in the water below. The waterfall made the air cool and damp.

Gilraen's anxious eyes were fixed on Estel even as she nodded to acknowledge the elf lord's presence. "I do not know, Elrond. But whoever it was had very nearly succeeded."

"But succeeded in what, I wonder." He turned to her, and his penetrating gaze held hers. "You know more than you will speak of. Will you tell me more, Lady of the Dùnedain?"

For a long while Gilraen was silent. "He wished to cause chaos. To set brother against brother. A dark storm is brewing, and he does not want the elves and men re-united. And he wanted Vilya."

"How do you know this?"

"I see things as you do, Lord Peredhel. But we see different things, and this I saw just before I slipped the Ring onto your finger."

Elrond shifted positions on the rock. "Were you not tempted to put on the Ring yourself? It is an elf-Ring, untouched by Sauron, yet it is bound to the One, and though so far the One remains lost, it exists still, in some far corner of the world, and its power remains."

Gilraen smiled. "The moment I touched Vilya, my hand clutched it and refused to let go. I heard whispers, telling me that Estel was dying, and to save him I must put on the Ring. That unless I put on the Ring, you would die. It showed me Rivendell covered in darkness and flame, and all its fair folk bound in chains on their way to Barad-dûr. It seems that though foresight can be a gift, it can also turned against you."

Elrond's gaze returned sharply. "And you did not listen to the whisperings?"

"I wanted to." Her eyes were suddenly filled with an unspeakable loss. "The whispers even promised to return Arathorn to me. That was what made me give the Ring to you. I will not dishonour his memory by surrendering what he had lived and died for."

"It was well you did." Elrond's voice became gentler. "Vilya was made for elves, Gilraen, and I do not know if you could have worn it without your mind being destroyed. I am glad you did not try."

For a long time neither of them spoke. "He very nearly succeeded. It… frightens me, how close he came to it."

"And he did not utterly fail either." Her gaze shifted to Elladan now. "After so many years of secrecy, do you think he suspects? Do you think he knows who he almost killed?"

Elrond had been mulling over that question for some time. "Nay, by fortune or fate Estel's identity is still safe. I have reason to believe that this dark one had reached his own conclusion about… Estel's parentage." He felt his face flush, and developed up a sudden interest in a smooth round pebble near his foot.

Gilraen laughed. "Aye, I believe so as well. And I suppose we haven't allayed his suspicions, either." Elrond felt that he really wouldn't relish relating that incident to Glorfindel. "Perhaps it is just as well. For Estel's protection, integrity is a small price to pay."

The Lord of Imladris nodded. "We have agreed then, that the woman is not responsible for this?"

"Not wholly, yet some responsibility does rest on her shoulder. But she did something that this dark being did not expect, and somehow the poison went to Elrohir."

"And because of the specific nature of the poison- and it was not naturally made- anyone other than the intended victim does not die from it. But it works through the blood, so closer relatives to the victim get affected. And as Elrohir and Elladan are identical twins, Elrohir was affected greatly." He hesitated. "Are you sure she did not simply mistake the goblets?"

"Yes. I have seen that she was faced with a choice, and though I couldn't fully understand all the images I saw, I know that she chose to put the poison in the wrong goblet."

Elrond nodded. He trusted the conviction in Gilraen's voice. "Ilitha is strong. Mayhaps one day she will break free."

"Perhaps. It must be of her own will, however, and the chains that bind her are embedded deep."

"What of Elladan?"

"I have spoken to him. It was not the easiest of tasks, but I believe he understands now. I believe it was the notion that Estel would kill himself of his own free will that convinced Elladan I was not myself either that night."

"And Estel? What does he have to say?"

"Nothing more than he has said to you, I would imagine. He remembers little of what happened to him, save that he lost control of his body, and saw his own hands drive the dagger towards his heart before darkness took him."

Gilraen saw the fear of losing another loved one resurface briefly in Elrond's eyes. Elrond sighed. "We nearly lost him, Gilraen. And Elrohir also. I have let my guard lax, and nearly paid the price for it. I may yet."

"We will protect them, Elrond. For as long as we can, we will protect them."

"Oh, and the horse Are returned yester-eve. It was disorientated, which is unusual for horses bred by elves. I am quite sure, without checking, that it does not remember where Ilitha had dismounted."

Gilraen seemed more disturbed by this news. "Who was it, Elrond? Who can possibly do this?"

Elrond could only shake his head. "There are many evils in this world, my lady, and many have powers we cannot even imagine. We can only do what we can, and hope. For good has its own Power."

Peacefully they stood, immortal elf and human woman, letting the peace of Rivendell strengthen them. The shadow was moving now, its malicious thought seeking to weaken the heart, setting brother against brother, sowing fear and doubt. Elrond had made the near-fatal mistake of letting his guard down, lulled by the security of his hidden valley. Yet even Gondolin the fair had fallen, despite being hidden and the vigil of the Eagles. Vilya now pulsed on the elf-lord's finger; he resolved that he would not remove it until the end of this Age, his task done or failed.

Or so he thought. But that is another story.

"Mithrandir has sent a message that he is on his way for a visit," Elrond said with a smile. "For once he actually warns us of his coming. I suspect he knows of what has happened and wants to check on those three; he can be more protective of them than I at times, especially with Estel."

Gilraen smiled as well, remembering how excited her young human son would get every time the wizard came by. "Estel bears a great burden, my dear elf, and Mithrandir's labours are closely linked to the boy's destiny."

Elrond's eyes went to Elrohir, still pale but bursting with energy after several days in sickbed, looking for all the world like he hadn't brushed death only a few days ago. Then he took in Elladan and Estel, as energetic as their brother, laughing as water splashed everywhere. But their eyes were haunted, their laughter slightly forced, betraying the shadow of doubt in their hearts. They would not speak of what had happened between them that night, but it had clearly scarred them, perhaps for life. Estel was still prone to occasional fits of coughing, his lung not fully healed as of yet, and though he usually said nothing, Elladan would always be there, his eyes watching with concern and, something else. Elrond knew that time would heal them both, yet old wounds had a way of splitting open right when they are least welcomed.

"His mind was very strong," Elrond remarked quietly, remembering his own ordeal that night. If Gilraen hadn't been there… "Thank you Gilraen. I would not have been able to overpower him on my own."

Gilraen looked at him in surprise. "A humble admittance, my Lord. I see you are finally recognising the fact that even an elf lord needs assistance at times. And you are right, he is very strong. His mind is used to wrestling with the minds of others, and I had to surprise him to give you a chance of breaking free."

"How did you know where Vilya was hidden?" the elf-lord asked curiously.

Gilraen smiled. "I know a great many things, Peredhel."

It took a few moments of comfortable silence before Elrond was fully aware of the sudden change in his relationship with Gilraen. In the past the woman had been distant, shy of him and focused solely on raising Estel. They were very similar, he realised. Both of them had lost the other half of themselves, and were now drawn together to determine the fate of the world, as they protected the one who held it. But at one point the ice between them had melted, and now they stood side by side as they watched over their young charge. He loved Gilraen, but not as he had loved Celebrian. More like… a sister. The thought made him smile sadly, as he remembered many a night he and Elros would spend pretending to have another sibling.

Gilraen sensed his change in mood, and looked at him curiously. He smiled affectionately at her, wanting her to understand his feelings but not misconstrue them as something else. And her returning grin told him that she understood. It also reminded him so much of his brother's that he felt like raising an eyebrow at his father, who had appeared earlier today than usual, for the sun had barely touched the horizon.

The brothers splashed on, all three thoroughly soaked. Whoever had attempted to split them apart had underestimated the bond of love between them, stronger than the difference of blood. Even now, barely recovered from the ordeal, they gave what they could to strengthen each other; even Estel and Elladan. Elrond's eye was inevitably drawn to his adopted son, a child of his brother, the pinnacle of years of sacrifice and grief.

A son of elves and men.

Estel, you carried the future of Middle-Earth the day you were born. The darkness stirs, and you must soon prepare to meet it. Such a task will take you far from home and what protection I can give. Be strong, Estel, for both your peoples.

The thought was sent silently down to the young Man, for Aragorn son of Arathorn of the Dùnedain knew himself only as Estel, adopted human son of Elrond of Rivendell.

How am I going to tell him?

~*~

[Language of Istari]

Saruman howled with rage. Somehow… somehow his plans had gone awry, and Mithrandir had won the Round before he could even register what was happening. It had exhausted him to retain such control on both Elrond and his son's mind- how strong they had been! - yet in the end, somehow he had been thrown off. Ilitha would bear the brunt of his anger when she arrived. He did not know what she had done, but surely this was her fault.

At least the heir to Imladris is gone. But there is the other, the brother. He must also be taken care of.

Despite his loss, the fallen wizard already had a plan in mind. A seed of doubt had been planted in the human boy's mind, one that not even the Grey wizard would notice until it was too late. It was the opening that Saruman needed; he delighted in the idea of making Elrond's precious son his downfall. He would wait, for his mind would never be able to enter Imladris again, not even for just a look. But eventually the boy would have to come out of the elven realm, and Saruman would be ready for him. It was a lot of effort to dispose of a mere mortal, but Saruman knew now not to underestimate the human's value in his adoptive family. Bringing down the elven realm would make his other tasks much easier. And an elf Ring, if Elrond had one of them indeed, would set him high in his Master's favor.

Prepare yourself, Mithrandir, for the next Round of our game. I promise you it will be... interesting.

End