A/N: so here is the next chapter and I'm still open for suggestions from you guys about who should get an one-shot here, you can even suggest what you would like to happen in it.
Warning: this will have a bit of info about the Dream Dwellers and they tragic destiny.
V. The Lore Master of Rivendell
All his hopes were shattered even before he could enjoy they return. He felt such joy and relief when Celebrian had awoken from her coma and started healing, not refusing any part of the treatment, eating obediently, spending time in the gardens, with her family, laughing, smiling, it all looked like a wonder, but then it all shattered with four little words.
"I wish to sail."
He had tried everything to persuade her differently, by the Valar, he had even begged her on his knees, but she had only smiled sadly down at him, pulled him to his feet and told him that there was no other way to heal fully and if he loved her then he would understand and let her go. Aya, he understood, as a healer he understood perfectly, but as her husband he did not and would not, but he needed to let her go to have a chance to see her again one day. After she was gone went his sons back to they path of bloody revenge to rid the whole of Middle-Earth from orcs, but he didn't care. He didn't care for anyone then none of them could understand his pain, his sons lived only for killing and his daughter looked at him with such sadness, he couldn't bear it so he send her away to her grandparents. If he could think of anything other then the cold loneliness and grief then he might have realised that he was pushing everyone away who cared for him. He was snappish with the servants and even managed to insult his two closest friends and advisors as those tried to make him leave his bed after nearly a month of him hiding in his chambers, refusing to let the sheets be changed because they still carried her scent on them.
Slowly was everyone getting at they wits end accepting the blank truth that they might be soon mourning the departure of another of the household.
Nestaron looked with a raised eyebrow at the slowly greying-blackening door in front of him, arms tightly folded in front of his chest. Shaking his head while biting back a sigh of frustration which tried escaping his lips pushed the Dweller the door open and stepped inside. As guessed there was no lovely illusion or the place of mind where visions appeared, only darkness and silence. Striding forth the dark mass, it seemed to make his body heavier with each step he took, chilling his body till the core of his bones, making it hard to breath. As if icy fingers of invisible hands would fold themselves around your throat and squeeze it with all they might, drawing you deeper into the gapping abyss of nothingness.
Thus was the mind of a fading Eldar.
"How long do you think it will take your soul to fully fade from this world Eledhiren?" he asked calmly into the blackness as he approached the sunken figure of the once proud elven lord, eyes fixed on the still figure. "How do you think fair Luthíen would feel whose fairness was passed on to one of your kin, how would your parents whom loved you and feared for your safety when you were taken by Maedhros and Maglor. Your twin Elros whom choose the path of men and thus left you had chosen because he felt that it was his destiny as was it yours to walk the path of elves, he wished for you to never fade, how would Gil-Galad feel about the one he had entrusted his people to being so weak, how would lady Celebrian feel if her waiting at the white shores would be for nothing, how do you think the Evenstar feels about being pushed away." his voice was accusing he knew, but this was the only way and it seemed to work because soon sword calloused hands were around his throat, gray eyes burning with dark rage boring into his own.
"Bertho!" he growled, but Nestaron didn't back away for everyone dealt with loss differently, anger, fear, despair and denial, if these were overcome and acceptance reached then a being could heal, but only if they leave the spiral of self-destruction.
"You know that my words are the truth híren." he could feel that also Vilya had noticed whom he had at his side and would try getting as much distance between his master and him.
"I don't believe you, what right do you have to appear here for you can't be a part of my mind!" he yelled, but suddenly felt a strong wind wrap itself around him and pull his hands away from the slender neck, setting a good ten feet distance between them. Looking slightly bewildered Elrond finally noticed his ring gleaming. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded form the stranger not even knowing that in the wake world had a panicking maid already called for both Erestor and Glorfindel whom were currently staring gapping at the glowing ring on they lord's hand.
"I have the right as a healer and that of one whom had given they word to your brave wife to get her family out of they foolishness before they destroy themselves. There are two way people deal with loss either they pull they loved ones closer or they push them away. You are doing the later, do you think lady Celebrian would have wanted this? That two of her children might get killed by orcs or worse suffer the same fate as her?" Elrond flinched at the words as the sight of his beloved's abused body flashed before his eyes "That your daughter gets plagued by nightmares in which she suffers the same fate as her mother because no one hers her screams for help?" at this Elrond finally looked up in concern.
"Arwen has nightmares?" he asked wide eyed, why hadn't she told him, but then pain flashed into his heart as he remembered foggily that she had tried talking to him about something, but he had only told her to pack her things she wished to take with her when visiting her grandparents.
"Had, they should be gone by now, she is a brave little elleth." Nestaron said with a little smile before it disappeared and took a step forward, as guessed the Ring of Air was pulling his bearer away from him. How different each of the rings acted, but he doesn't have the time to dwell on it, he could feel Elrond's light demising, if there is no change then he won't last till the next winter comes to the valley.
"What is happening now?" Elrond asked as he stared at his ring, not understanding why it pulled him away from the invader.
"Vilya is only feeling frightened unlike Nenya whom tried and unsuccessful attack at feeling the frustration of her bearer. I would say Vilya is the more intelligent one of the two, but I can promise that I won't do any harm. My name is Nestaron the last existing Dream Dweller since the kinslayers murdered us for they own wile pleasure. This should help you enough, as a lore master you must have already read about us." he said with a grin on his lips, he needed to drive reactions from the lord to let him break out of his lethargy without him noticing. Saddly were healers themselves the worst type of patients, he didn't feel ashamed admitting this.
"A Dream Dweller, one of the Bearers of Iluvatar's Comparison?" Elrond asked in shock then he was sure that they had all been slain by the kinslayers back then when he was still nothing, but an elfling. It was one of the grounds why sindarin tended to be careful when dealing with noldorins even now because of what he read were all Dwellers from sindarin descent and said to be the most beautiful if feeling comparison, sorrow, grief or sadness. This was the ground why thy got slain because they murderers wanted to see them at they most beautifullest, using the abused, half-dead or already dead bodies to fulfil they sick desire for them. A wave of disgust hit him at the memories of which things he had read, the cruelty of such an act against another living creature whom only tried to lessen others sufferings not asking for anything in return. The disgust ebbed away and in its place stepped a melancholic sadness and pity, the few lores he had read about these healers had by all ended with the same conclusions, they were the only elves in whole Arda whom walked a path in never-ending darkness, they path shed with tears, surrounded by sorrow, pain and grief.
"I see you have read about us." Nestaron stated, his tone softer now as a kind smile appeared on his pale lips, the cold silver of his eyes softening like when the clouds pass the moon and give her light free. The path of anger had been overcome and taken over by sadness, the first step to healing, but Elrond had not noticed this, then for the first time could he fully understand what he had read about they slaying of those born of Iluvatar's tears. Now that he could see with his own eyes the beauty of them which clenched at your heart and made even his great-grandmother's Luthíen's fairness seem fable to the sight presented in front of him. "I know that the pain of loss is a heavy burden, but this is for what a family stands for, they help each other carry the burden of loss and your lady isn't gone forever, her departure was not a 'good bye' for forever, but merely a 'we will met again'."
"But what should I do, even if my daughter accepts me again and forgives my coldness towards her in her time of need, my parents-in-law will not turn towards me and my sons won't listen to words of reason." Elrond said, his eyes burning with unshed tears, he would not break down in front of another so much younger then him.
"The Evenstar had never held a grudge against you only delicate love, it had been your father-in-law calling upon a kinsman to help firstly his daughter" at this Elrond's eyes widened in realization, the day on which Celeborn had ordered the healers to knock him out, the order as to not disturb him as he watches over his daughter, Celebrian waking up while under the watch of her father, it now all made sense to him if he had enlisted a healer of souls "and you also, your mother-in-law was stubborn about it, but the wish to see her daughter again when her role is fulfilled on Middle-Earth was stronger then her grief as for your sons, I will do my best the mend they hurt." Nestaron said, but his away the dark fact about the twins future should he fail to blow out the flames of hatred scorching they souls.
"Then…then I lay my family into your hands." said Elrond finally as he suddenly felt long arms wrap around him in a gently hug.
"You shouldn't hold your tears in híren, our tears are not thought to make us look weak, but to let go of which weights on our soul just like the laugher is making it soar. If you still wish to hide them, then weep freely here while I hold you before you return to the waking world, you shouldn't make your loved ones be chained by pain for you." Elrond heard the gentle words and allowed his tears to finally fall while clinging to the warm embrace of the other not even noticing how the darkness started to get a little bit lighter around them as his soul finally ceased to follow the call of Mandos and turned away from the dark path.
Gray eyes opened slowly, but closed immediately as the bright light of the sun hit them, his whole body hurt, not in all pleased to be forced to lay only in one spot. As his eyes got a bit more adjusted to the light made Elrond a failing try to sit up, but got sudden help. Turning to his side was he faced by the worried gaze of his chief counsellor and friend.
"Erestor, what are you doing in my chambers?" Elrond asked in confusion, but what shocked him more was the fact that he nearly didn't recogrinaize his own voice because of how raspy it sounded.
"Take is easy mellon-nín, we were called in here because Vilya started suddenly glowing in a bright light "Elrond nodded in understanding, so it really wasn't a dream "Try not straining your voice, I will get you some water." Erestor said and was already about to go to the door when it suddenly bust open revealing Elrond's seneschal and other friend Lord Glorfindel rushing inside in panic, a bucked held in his hands. Suddenly Erestor's dark eyes widened as he jumped back to the bed, hand held out in front of him. "Glorfindel wait! He is awa…" but it was already to late and in mare seconds were both Lord and counsellor dripping wet from the content of the bucket "…awake…" he finished with an annoyed look at the now sheepishly grinning Balrog Slayer.
"Erestor, I think I have had enough water." was Elrond's only reply as he looked at the dark haired elf to his right who nodded, but deep inside felt relieved joy that the Lord of Imraldis had finally returned to them.
Meanwhile in a dark room a pair of moon light eyes opened as a pale hand gently touched the bruises on the pale throat. These would fade in a matter of a day, he had worse when dealing with other patients. Climbing out of the warm bed made the slender figure its way to the circular balcony and let his gaze wander over the bare fortress and land filled with darkness and decay. Even if others found this land ugly and something to be dreaded felt he home here, he had been born and raised here in the heart of darkness, he was as the White Lady had called him the Prince of Mordor and he would never deny it. People often tended to forget that the darkness isn't always evil and the light not always good, it only depended on how you looked at the things around you. The sound of cups and plates on a tray hit his ears as he turned around, he made it just in time for dinner in the company of his guardian since his uncle was forth for some time.
On his hand Dûr Ithil gleamed, singing longingly for her twin to join her soon.