A/N: here is the next chapter and still open for suggestions of any kind…

Warning: some dark thoughts, but since Celebrian's chapter should this be not surprising.

VI. The Elven Knight

It was the first day of winter when the twins had finally returned after four long months from they bloody hunt for Morgoth's foul creations. Neither of them spoke to anyone, only made they way in the direction of they shared chambers to freshen up and rest, they planned to continue they journey in a week, but even that seemed to be a long time to rest for them. Both Elrond and Arwen had watched sadly, hoping that while back home can they also start they slow path to healing with a little help.

It was already late in the night and both Sons of Elrond were still spending they time outside on the practice fields, it was frustrating, but Elrond had an idea he got from his father-in-law. Filling two goblets with sweet wine and a good mix of drugs, the mix would knock even an oliphaunt out-cold for several hours. After Arwen delivered it to them gave she the signal to Glorfindel, Erestor and her father to help get them inside. The two male elves didn't even question the ground, the two were in desperate need of rest, at least they didn't need to worry for father and daughter anymore.

Nestaron had watched the whole scene from atop of a tick branch, hidden from view, but while no one could see him, he could see the others well, also noting the other hiding figure whose blue eyes stared sadly in the direction of the younger twin. Looks like he got now more material to work with to save his soul, then while in the case of the other members of the family was it about taking they hand and leading them on the path of healing was it in the case of the gwanűn was it all about saving they souls. Standing up he jumped to the ground, long cloak like black wings around him as he landed gracefully on the ground, thanking the tree for being his hiding spot made the Dream Dweller his way to the other side of the large garden where the balcony to the room of his patients stood. He knew that this would be the hardest, the anger they have felt for what was done to they mother had transformed itself into pure hatred, scorching every other feeling up inside they souls, twisting, soiling and blackening it, driving away every light from them, forcefully making them cast away everyone till no one is left, then the hate will turn against them and destroy the both of them. He knew that hate was the most disgusting of all emotions a living creature could feel it was dangerous to feel it because of its strength, it was this grotesque feeling which had twisted the souls of the orcs beyond repair and was now on its way to make these two peredhel into the same being which they were so intent in destroying. His fists clenched together painfully as a wave of disgust washed over him at the dark memories he was forced to see when he had once attempted healing what Morgoth's cruelty had created.

The orcs were not creatures to be hated, but to be pitied for they souls just like that of the Kinslayers would never find peace.

Closing the almost dark gray door silently made Nestaron his way through the battle field. Stepping over and manoeuvring over piles of mutilated orc corpses, puddles of black blood and slippery guts, head shaking at what the hatred had done to the soul of this young eldar. He whom was born only a few months before the Last Alliance of Elves and Man had fought in Mordor had already seen bloodshed before even knowing what it was, while tending to the mind of survivors, sometimes without they knowledge had he a better inkling to the Age on which sunset he had been born then most and from what he learnt was one thing clear, he would never want to hate others. Stepping carefully over another mutilated body fell his eyes on something pale under one of the piles of the large bodies. It was starting, slowly inside his mind would this elven knight not only murder beasts in blind battle, but also loved ones, spiralling even deeper into the black abyss of darkness till he would loose his own live. Already his light was dimming, blackening, the blood of men inherited form his father's side only quickening the process, then no matter how people tried denying it, negative emotions which drive one to hurt the ones they love was a second nature of men. It was a dark beast hiding deep within they souls waiting for the right time to strike. His face stayed blank when the silence of death was broken by the sound of angry growls and the disgusting sucking sound when a blade is being pulled out of raw flesh hit his ears.

"Found you." he said with a humourless grin making his way to the knight whom didn't even look up as he bashed his sword into the already mutilated dead body in front of him, blood, grime and guts all over him.

Elrohir felt a dark pleasure as he watched his blade hit the defenceless corpse, lips curling into a feral grin as the cold metal sung with his burning blood for more and more death. Death to those bastards taking away his naneth, they should hurt and rot for what they did. No one could understand him, this was the only cause for them to live and no one should dare to stand between him and his goal or they will feel his wrath. The sight of these creatures dead, mutilated, bleeding, they warm gore spilling out of them, this sight was truly beautiful. Holding his blood stained blade over his head to strike again was the cold metal halted by that of another gleaming silver blade, runes engraved into the long blade. Turning his gray eyes to his side fell they on silver ones.

"Who are you and how dare you stopping me." he hissed, voice filled with venom, eyes nearly black from rage and dark lust which always grips the body in mad bloodbaths. Nestaron held back a flinch, he had seen in some memories this and they often lead to similar things happening which was done to his own kind, there was a ground why he took his blade with him for this case.

"I'm someone who gave his word to try haling your souls." he said, hands firmly holding the others blade down with his own.

"Our souls don't need healing." Elrohir snapped in anger and annoyance, who was this to dare interrupting him in his revenge. One eyebrow rose in imitation of his father as the other sighed, Elrohir was not sure, but it was as if the stranger's features got fairer then before, his eyes gleaming like Ithil in the darkest night.

"It is true, you and your brother's souls don't need to be healed, they need to be saved." he replied in a sad tone and Elrohir felt his blood boil. What was this dumb joke about needing to be saved, he and Elladan were just fine, no matter how large the number of the enemy they always won the battle.

"We don't need to be saved." Elrohir finally replied laughing a cold laugh.

"And this is where you are mistaken, if you don't forget your hatred then soon both you and your twin will become the same as the creatures your want so much to destroy." this did it, Elrohir would not let anyone compare him to those damned creatures whom had raped his mother.

"Sedho! Don't you dare compare us with those pest!" he roared in anger, blade swishing to cut through fair skin, but his blade was deflected. Nestaron took blow after blow with his sword always on the defensive, he was not in danger as long he was staying calm, if blind rage clouds your mind you are more prone to exhaust yourself with useless moves or make mistakes which your opponent can use to they advantage. His only problem was that he needed to will his ring to stay calm and not attack as it was her purpose, to protect her bearer from those wishing to do him harm.

The predictions come true and Elrohir started tiring, slipping on a little mass of brain on the hard ground, using his chance Nestaron hit the sword from his hand and with the blunt part of his sword knocked the elven knight out. He knew that if the other would have managed to regain a cool head then he could have managed to win against the Dweller, this was another back draw of hatred. It was truly a wonder that the two of them managed to be still alive if they went into all they fights like this, but it could help that it was also hatred driving the orcs in they battles. Sighing again he bent down to pick up the out cold body and to bring him to a deeper place, the part of his soul still trying to keep the mind together.

Elrohir woke up with a painful headache, groaning as he sat up. Dark eyes widened as he looked around in confusion in the dark, slowly decaying forest and at the bloody battlefield not far away.

"I see that you are awake now." at the sound of the melodious voice turned the elven knight to the other elf leaning against one of the few still living trees. "I hope that now you will listen to me rohir." he said and Elrohir had again the feeling as if he would have become more fairer looking as he looked at him with that melancholic gaze.

"Why should I listen to you, those damned orcs had…" he was stopped in his words.

"I know the dark fate which had befallen Lady Celebrian, it was her whom wished from me to help you all, your father and sister are already on they way to heal till the day they can reunite with her in Valinor." Nestaron said to the wide eyes elf. "Your naneth didn't want to cause pain with her sailing, but she also wished to clean the remaining blackness form her soul to be able and be the person she had always been. She left to see you again when the dawn of a new age starts."

"She should have stayed, she could have then seen how much work we invest in making everyone's lives happy in freeing Middle-Earth from the orcs." Elrohir said, eyes on the ground, his tone bitter and betrayed.

"Really?" Nestaron asked him "You truly believe that being away for long months, ignoring everyone and making them worry for your safety would truly make them happy? In your blind hunt did you never notice all those whom care about you? Those whom you are hurting?" he asked at which Elrohir snorted.

"They will be glad once we finished our task." was his only reply.

"Or your task will finish you, look around yourself Son of Elrond, this place is your own soul, do you see the bloodied battle field, there are not only orcs laying there slain by your sword, but also kin, this forest is the part of you which tries to keep your mind together, but it is dying. The darkness is twisting your soul till only death and decay remain, a cold battle field filled with the mutilated bodies of both foes and friends." silver eyes looked hard at the figure kneeling on all fours on the ground.

"If this is the prize to rid Arda from the orcs, then I will gladly accept the sacrifice." at his words the tree under which Nestaron stood let a couple of its leaves fall to the ground. Looking up at the tree flicked the Dweller his hand, hoping that this would work, time was running out.

"Elrohir?" at the soft sound turned the elven knight sharply to the side, his eyes falling on a familiar blonde minstrel standing beside one of the dead trees.

"Lindir?" he asked in confusion, he had since long not seen the bard in his fantasies, he had been to preoccupied with dark thoughts of guilt and anger. He watched as the slender figure run up to him, wrapping his arms around his body.

"Why did you leave me behind rohir nín?" the musician asked in a sad tone, head buried into the other's chest.

"Man carel le?" Elrohir asked as he glared up at the strange elf, but the other noted the pain filling those eyes, softening they hardness caused by rage. "Why are you playing this cruelty, if you think that I let you deter me from my way with fake illusions." he growled, but his hands were gripping the illusion closer against him.

"I'm not playing a cruel joke my young lord, he had been sneaking behind you and your brother each time you had returned, watching in pain as you drifted even more away from everyone. He was today also there hiding behind a tree watching you with sorrow and longing, if you continue in your madness then it is inventible that this young minstrel will follow you into the Halls of Mandos should you not return home." Nestaron finished and it was the truth, when he come to heal Lady Celebrian he had seen the blonde singer by the gates, unmoving his eyes staring with worry and longing into the distance, searching for a familiar form. The deep love could be clearly seen as could the fear of rejection.

"Don't lie, Lindir would never be interested in me." Elrohir snapped bitterly, longing making its way into both his eyes and voice.

"I think he is fearing the same, you are the son of his lord plus a knight and thus a higher rank then him a mare minstrel, beside that, how often did you make him feel that he was more then only a friend? For those of lower rank is the fear always there that they might get rejected because of it or cause they love to fall from good grace by the ones with similar rank. There is also the fact of your inheritance and the possibility that similar to your uncle you might choose the Gift of Men and thus become mortal and not sail to the Undying Lands." Nestaron explained to the wide eyed peredhel.

"That idiot." Elrohir whispered as he looked down on the memory in his arms. "Why do you not see how I feel." he said, Nestaron only smiled as his eyes spotted a little green spot in the dried out grass.

"You know, that he would know about your feelings if you would tell him?" he asked with a kind smile. "Forget your hatred, your mother is happy and is waiting for you patiently and something tells me that she would be pleasantly surprised if she would see her youngest son greet her a little family of his own." his smile turned into a smirk when Elrohir's cheeks coloured and the implication.

"I… I might think about it." he said, but the Dweller knew the answer already as he saw the forest slowly look a bit healthier then a few minutes ago. Soon it would overtake the battle field, burry the dead under soft mounds of emerald grass and large trees.

"That is all I'm asking for." he said while slowly departing, but before that he turned one last time around with a mischievous smile on his lips. "You might also want to wake up now for a few minutes, I don't think that you will mind it." he said before disappearing.

Nestaron had sneaked out of the bedchamber after letting Elrohir drink the antidote to the sleeping draught he had got from his father. Usually he would not do something like this, but at the moment was it more helpful for the patient to not be knocked out. Just as the door fell shut opened the knight's eyes. Sitting up groggily and with a pounding head waited Elrohir for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Luckily had elves a good night vision which come back in the past often in handy when he and his brother sneaked out to prepare they pranks. Elrohir smiled at the memory, he missed those good times, this was when he noted the weight on his legs. Looking down expecting to see either his sister or father felt he his eyes widen in surprise as he spotted a blond head resting there. A blush raised itself on his cheeks as he fully realized just who was at his side, heart pounding loudly he gently brushed a strain of blonde hair from the fair face, noting how soft both skin and hair felt. The figure stirred, but didn't wake up, only a little smile appeared on pink lips, leaning into the hands touch.

"Good night Lindir, melin chen." he whispered, maybe, if his feelings were truly returned he could pressure Elladan to stay a little bit longer home unlike the other times. Looking once more down at the sleeping figure laid Elrohir back down in his bed to sleep, to dream of beautiful forests and a lovely singer walking at his side as they walked up to his mother who looked at the pair with warm eyes.

Meanwhile inside the elven knight's soul was the forest slowly awakening to new life, moving to regain its old territory.