The New Shadow

A/N: Knowledge of 'The New Shadow', HoME, Volume 12, would be helpful.

This story is set one hundred years after the death of Elessar.

Disclaimer: '…And the child of little understanding that makes a play of the deeds of his father may do so without thought of mockery, but because he is the son of his father.' - Aule, The Silmarillion.

I do not own the world of Middle-earth. I don't even own this chair. Though I do agree with Tolkien. The book was too short.

Italics = visions

Chapter 1

Those Who Remember

Nigh on one hundred years Eldarion, Elessar's son, had ruled ere he felt the hands of Time tugging more burdensomely on his limbs and shortening his long stride. And then he knew his reign would last little longer and made ready his son to bear the weight of the Kingship.

Haleth, his wife, had been dead many years, leaving him only with his children for comfort. He had watched the line of the Stewards lengthen and their tombs fill Rath Dinen. Yes, death had never been far off in all his long years. Yet it was not his lot to die yet, and he lived to hear the whispers and see the shadow rise….

Morwen gathered her skirts and hurried along the road winding up to the Steward's House. The sky above had grown dark and the birds sang their last desperate notes before the light was gone completely. She tripped suddenly on the uneven path and her brother laughed to see her barely keep her balance.

'Confound you, Damrod!' she snapped. 'For it is you who have caused this haste!'

'Come now, Sister,' he teased, dancing on ahead, 'waste not your precious breath if you wish to keep pace with me.'

She hissed through her teeth, though Damrod was disappearing in the gathering gloom and could not hear.

As she neared her home, she slowed and collected herself. Smoothing out her burgundy dress, she ran her hands through her brown, sweaty hair to un-plaster it from her head.

Upon entering the Steward's House, she made her way to the dinning hall.

'Late to sup again, Morwen?' her father asked with a disapproving eye, though not completely free off amusement.

'Forgive me, Papa, but certain matters-' here she eyed Damrod, who grinned back unashamedly- '-caused me to lose track of the hour.'

'And pray, what "matters" would they be?' her mother asked with a smile.

'Ask Damrod. He may tell you.' she sat down at the table and began her meal.

'Naru stranded her in the-'

Morwen spluttered angrily in her plate, hastily swallowing her food and correcting her brother's claim.

'Nay, Damrod. Not a beast with four, but a beast with two legs stranded me out in the wood today, and that same beast was there laughing when I entered the city after walking all the way back!'

And indeed it had been a long walk. She had been cooling her feet in the brook when she turned, only to see too late her brother making off with Naru through the trees. Her own two feet had been no match for horse and rider.

'Is this true, Damrod?'

'Aye, it is, though I was merely taking thought of the animal, who seemed weary of being tied to the tree.'

Andreth sighed. 'Will my children ever grow up? Damrod, you are now twenty winters, you should know better.'

'Mama, you seem to forget that my sister is capable of contriving like pranks or worse. What of her twenty winters?' he jested in retort.

'Enough. We shall hear no more of the ill you deal one another, for my ears grow weary of your stories.' Andreth scolded, though her eyes twinkled with mirth.

Morwen woke uneasily, as she had every night since the ill tidings had been brought to the Emyn from the South.

Tonight she felt more deeply stirred than usual and the air of her chamber seemed too close. Donning her linen robe over her nightclothes, she padded through the stone halls with bare feet. Finally free of the house, she made her way over the damp grass, savouring the sweet night air which filled her lungs. Overhead the stars glimmered. When she was younger she'd been determined to count them, though now she laughed at her childish folly.

And then she stood before it, the grave of her foremother, Éowyn of the Shield-arm. It was said that she refused to be buried beside her husband in Rath Dinen, for she would rather her barrow be under the stars and covered with grass, after the fashion of her people.

In the night gloom her statue towered menacingly over Morwen. There was a circlet of flowers about her head. One hand rested upon her sword, while the other held a dove, and the stone eyes gazed intently up at the sky.

She bowed her head and sat at the stone-woman's feet.

'Éowyn, what news tonight?' she murmured.

And suddenly it seemed that the stars were extinguished and all was black, save the statue, which glowed faintly.

All of a sudden, the statue turned her stone head from the sky to stare into Morwen's eyes.

'Herumor. Those that live to remember can be made to forget.'

Morwen trembled.

'Who are you?' she cried.

'Morwen? Morwen, are you all right?' she felt someone slapping her face.

'Damrod?' she yelped, her eyes flying open. 'What is the meaning of this?'

He seemed worried and had not yet let go of her arm, as though he feared she would vanish.

'I sensed you out here and followed. I found you in a swoon at the Lady's feet.' there was sweat on his brow. He had been truly afraid.

'The Lady!' Morwen gazed up at her accusingly, though she seemed unchanged and Morwen wondered if she had been dreaming. 'She spoke to me!'

Damrod finally released her and rubbed his face. 'Spoke to you? Sister, she is stone. Sit a while, for you are weary.' all trace of his usual playful tone was gone. He studied her long. Perhaps she had hit her head?

'Damrod, I am quite sain.' she hissed, for as his twin she had ever been able to read his thoughts.

'Then what did she tell you?' he asked, and the doubt was obvious in his voice.

'Herumor. Those that live to remember can be made to forget.'

She shuddered. Damrod stood and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

'Herumor? Nay, sister. Do not let him keep you awake at night.'

Morwen glared at him, her brow furrowed in anger. She got to her feet groggily. 'How can you make little of such a thing? With the news of Borlas' death only three moons passed and the rumours we have heard?'

'Rumours, yes. For that is all they are.'

'As you wish, Damrod. Yet tonight the stone hath spoken and bequeathed a warning: in the East there lies a shadow.'

'Speak of this no more. Nay, I mean it, Sister. I shall not listen to your dark predictions. Why do you delight in ill news so?' his voice was rising higher in anger.

She slapped him soundly across the face. 'You have not the wit to see your death-stroke falling. It shall be painless. There is your happy prophecy.' and she brushed past him, back to her chambers.

She closed the shutters and lit a candle, sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at the dancing flame.

'In the east they dwell, hoarding the dark as though it were gold.'

'Éowyn.' she whispered, the breath leaving her lungs.

Éowyn stood beside the shuttered windows, facing them as though she could see outside.

'This it was that Darkness itself told me as I lay in a dream.

'Fair of skin and dark of heart. They call to their kin, leading them ever East. Those of Herumor's blood they prize most of all, and fell deeds they accomplish as they journey towards the calling dark.'

Suddenly she turned and gazed straight at Morwen, who was speechless. Her white-robbed form approached.

'The thoughts trouble me so I cannot rest.'

The vision ended and she woke.

Light seeped in dimly from behind the shutters. The candle had burnt out. Morwen lay back on her bed, not moving at all.

Andreth knocked on her daughter's door. She had grown worried, for Morwen had missed breakfast. Her anxiety had grown even more when Damrod had finally told her what troubled him.

'Morwen?' she called as she opened the door to the dim room. She saw her daughter lying back on the bed, gazing unblinkingly up at the ceiling.

'Mama?' her voice came softly, as if from a great distance.

Andreth shut the door and sat beside her, taking one of her slender white hands in her own worn and calloused ones.

'Tell me what you saw.'

'The Shadow. The Lady Éowyn came to me and told me what she herself had been told as she lay under the curse of the Black Breath.'

Andreth bowed her head. 'The Shadow I too have seen, though the messenger was another.'

'You have seen things too?' she began to sob. 'Damrod thinks me mad and I was beginning to wonder…'

Andreth held her in her arms and patted her back.

'Dark times ahead, my dear. The King shall not reign much longer.'

'I knew this without the gift of foresight.' Morwen murmured. 'Uncle I call him, for he is dear to me, and I shall miss him when he departs.'

'Yes, Eldarion loves you for you remind him of his mother and sister. And in that respect at least is Herendil his father's son: that he also loves my daughter.' she smiled the way she did when revealing something she knew Morwen thought was secret.

Morwen blushed. 'He thinks me a child, which I am compared to his years.'

Andreth winked slyly. 'As you will.'

Men were disappearing. Every week another went missing. It began about the water-cities of Pelargir and Dol Amroth, but now Minas Tirith began to report people missing. The elderly were found slaughtered, so the things that should have been heard were silenced.

'…Those who live to remember can be made to forget.'

The words often echoed in Morwen's mind.

Morwen tugged at the sleaves of her dress. The heat was unbearable. She sipped her water and fanned herself with her free hand. The garden outside the window lay wilted, begging for water and reprieve from the unforgiving sun.

'I had changed from a Lilly, delicate and fair, to an ancient pine, gnarled, and beautiful no more, save revered for its wealth in years. And I walked these very gardens, bowed and leaning heavily on a cane. Yea, I was Shieldmaiden no longer, save in title.

'It was then that He appeared before me. He whom Heaven had refused and Hell would not take.

Herumor. And he said to me: 'If you have slain the Darkness, then you have taken the Darkness upon yourself. It is in your very soul. The choice is yours now: To follow me East, thither where Shadows show no age, or to remain here and die as a dog.'

'As a dog I shall die, and have greater honour than thou, thou who art no better than carrion-fowl.' came my reply, and his shadow-hand reached into my chest and squeezed my heart till it beat no longer. And then I passed into memory…'

Morwen's vision swam as Éowyn's face faded. She slumped against the wall, dropping her waterglass and shattering it.

Her mother and father rushed over, asking what was wrong.

'The King is dead.' she whispered before loosing consciousness.