Quicksilver

Summary: There's a threat to Estel's life, and Erestor is lost in the general confusion as he tries to work out where, or who, it comes from.

Author's Note: Written as part of slashy_santa 2006, for request "Erestor/Elladan - i want the story to be about a conspiracy, and a poison murder." I hope this works for you. Merry Christmas.

The Encyclopedia of Arda saved my butt on this one, as well as LotR: Appendix A part v. Anything that confuses you, look there. Mithril is also called 'truesilver', and therefore I have used mercury, also known as 'quicksilver', as a liquid and possibly weaker variant. I definitely don't recommend ingesting it, though it was prescribed as a medication as recently as the early twentieth century.

Erestor woke; his eyes gradually drawing the room into focus as he stretched, his lover at his side. Something had reached his wandering mind and pulled him back; a knock at the door. It wasn't loud, but it had been repeating for some time. That meant it was either urgent, but not worth waking up the household for, or someone seeking advice of any kind of sensitive nature.

Erestor received a lot of both, sometimes even earlier than this. The sun barely illuminated the room as he laid a light blanket over his lover. Its warmth, perhaps, would stay Elladan's waking until Erestor could find out what this interruption meant. Barely had he slipped a robe over his head when the door opened, just slightly, revealing a grey-blue eye and a tuft of dark hair.

"Erestor?"

Erestor knelt, and held his arms open for the young human boy. Estel was barely twelve, in human years, but looked more like an Elf of twenty. No matter how many scions of the house of Elendil were fostered here, Erestor would never be used to the difference in the way the children grew and adapted to their surroundings. This experience was much the same for both Elves and Men, though; the first taste of grief. Erestor could feel it in the shiver of Estel's body against his own, and felt as if he too had lost something close to him. Even if he was not that sensitive, he could not have mistaken the confusion and pain in the boy's eyes when Estel finally thought to meet Erestor's eyes.

"Huan will not move, Erestor, and I can't get him to wake!"

Estel began to cry, and all Erestor could do was hold the boy until the tears subsided.�

The dog had been named as a result of Estel's history lessons inspiring in him a longing for heroic deeds. Naturally, bad timing had meant that a few days after one particularly influential lesson, Elrond decided that in order to teach responsibility to the then-wayward boy, he would be allowed the sole care and training of a puppy, which Estel promptly named Huan. The naming of the puppy after the faithful friend of Beren gave Elrond pain that he would not speak of, but Estel had proved a loyal friend to the puppy and Elrond seemed to calm; though if Erestor saw him look wistfully at the boy once or twice, Elrond would shake his head and leave no scope for conversation.

Now, though, Erestor had followed Estel to his room, where Huan lay. He had little experience with animals, but Estel insisted that he try to make Huan wake up. Erestor already doubted the possibility of being able to do so. Estel would not be so distressed if he had not sensed that the dog was only asleep, and Erestor knew the smell of death. He smelt it when Estel opened his door.

Gilraen's door was partly open, and Erestor sent the boy to his mother when he glimpsed the dog on the floor. It lay on its side, legs splayed on the ground as if it was just resting. Yet when Erestor knelt and touched the animal's fur, he found it wet, as if partly dried from swimming. He smoothed the fur as he stroked the dog's back, singing quietly. His voice did not cause the dog to stir, and Erestor knew then, beyond doubt, that Huan had died sometime in the night. The slackness of Huan's jaw seemed to indicate that it had only been a few hours, at most, since the dog had taken it's final breath.

Erestor closed the glassy eyes, and rose. Gilraen stood at the door, with Estel clinging to her skirt, looking at Erestor. Erestor shook his head, and Estel howled.

"Help Estel to bury him. I must speak with Elrond," said Erestor, and Gilraen nodded, holding her son. Erestor started to leave, but paused. "And don't touch anything." He wouldn't explain it, and he looked away from Gilraen's questioning look, but he felt something was indefinably wrong. It wasn't in Estel's childlike aura; the boy was innocent, and did not yet understand that his companion was dead. There was some trace of something in the room that shouldn't have been there; something Erestor had not encountered, despite his vast experience.�

He met Elladan outside their room.

"I was just looking for you. Where did you go?" Erestor shook his head. He would tell this story once.

"Wake your father; I will talk with him in his rooms shortly." Elladan nodded. Erestor caught his arm and pulled Elladan towards him. "Wake your brother as well; you both might be needed." He gave Elladan his customary good morning kiss then went into his rooms to dress properly, leaving Elladan standing behind him. This was not a normal thing, but Erestor was distracted, and so he did not notice.�

~*~�

Erestor paced in Elrond's sitting room, his head bowed and his eyes closed. To the other four elves in the room, this was not an unusual sight. Erestor often did this when he was troubled, or had a difficult problem to solve. Normally, though, he did this in the room designated as his unofficial office, which was much less ornately decorated, and he felt a bit out of place.

"We chose Huan for Estel because he was the smallest of the litter, and wouldn't have survived if left with his mother and siblings. Perhaps there was something wrong with him?" Elrohir was thinking out loud, and his brother nudged him.

"Shut up, Erestor's thinking."

"If there was something wrong with Huan, we would have known before now," said Glorfindel, who'd been fetched by Elrohir. Erestor hadn't told him to leave, though he did not think that the warrior would be able to contribute much to the discussion. "Huan was almost four years old - fully grown for a dog. Anything that would have caused him to die would have been picked up by an animal sensitive, long before now."

Erestor stilled. Everyone looked at him as if they expected him to say something, but he just shook his head and sat down in the nearest chair. When he lifted his hair away from his face, his eyes looked as if some evil haunted him.

"This was not a natural death. I am not very sensitive to such things normally, but I felt some kind of evil intent in Estel's room."

Elrond had not spoken so far, instead listening carefully to all that was said.

"Perhaps we should not be looking at what caused Huan to die, but rather the circumstances of his death. Remember, Estel has been ill these last weeks, and has barely left the buildings, taking food in his room and neglecting his physical training. Huan has been with him much of that time. If harm has come to Huan, it has come from within."

"What if harm was intended towards Estel, but Huan was harmed instead?" said Elladan.

The room seemed darker to Erestor, and he felt as if it was closing in; the lack of fresh air choking him as the possibility became real to him. He spoke as if he was affected by some trance.

"When I arrived in the room, Estel's food tray had barely been touched. Meat had been taken from the plate, but that was all. Estel had clearly not eaten, or eaten without using his cutlery. Huan lay on the floor, his mouth slightly open. I could see his tongue; it was swollen, pale, as if tinged with white powder. His fur was wet when I touched it, as if he had been swimming, or sweating a lot. His eyes were half-open, and glassy, like he was sleeping an Elven sleep. The room seemed normal, but the shadows were darker, and I felt as if I was being watched."

"Poison," whispered Elladan.

The room was then quiet, but for the whispering of shadows.

"If Estel had fed Huan from his plate, and the food was poisoned, Huan would have been exposed to the poison, and died from it much earlier than Estel would have."

"Because of his size? Being smaller?" asked Glorfindel. Elrohir nodded.

"Yes. Huan would have absorbed the poison into his body faster than Estel, and been affected much more than Estel, much sooner."

"What kind of poison would have the sort of effect Erestor described? The white tongue and sweating."

"Quicksilver," said all three Peredhel. Erestor nodded as well.

"Estel's illness may be nothing more than exposure to quicksilver as well. Certainly it is not impossible, but with the range of illnesses that humans can contract, it had not occurred to me."

"I will examine him," said Elrond. "Glorfindel, could you go down to the kitchens and find out who has been preparing Estel's trays?" Glorfindel left immediately, with only a brief nod to Elrond to acknowledge the instruction. Elrohir excused himself as well, saying that he would find Estel.

"I sent him with Gilraen, to bury Huan," said Erestor.

"That was good thinking," said Elladan. "We will need him to have closure before we take him away from here." Elrohir paused at the doorway before leaving.

"We?" he said, without looking back, then left.�

Elrond leaned forward, placing his hands on his temples. Erestor knew that meant that Elrond was unusually stressed, and normally it would also mean that Erestor would leave him alone, business to be continued at another time. Now, though, it seemed that there would be no other time. Elladan seemed to accept that Estel had to leave Imladris, Glorfindel was running errands like a menial servant, and Elrohir was acting strangely. Urgency seemed to filter through and motivate everyone, even the mouse that scurried under Elrond's chair, looking for shelter from the big creatures in the room. Erestor noticed it, but knew it meant no harm and so did nothing. It probably did not expect anyone to be in here; normally at this time nobody would be. The sun had edged higher in the sky, and lit Imladris with its golden light. Colours seemed more vibrant, but to Erestor, the shadows seemed darker, and lurked within even the brightest of whites.

"Maybe we should tell Erestor about Arathorn," said Elladan.

Elrond did not respond instantly, proving himself to be far off in thought, and apparently too far away to pay attention to his son. When he did, it was to begin the story.

"Arathorn II became Chieftain of the D�nedain a year before Estel was born. His marriage to Gilraen was borne of prophecy and haste, and with it came the responsibility to beget an heir, for it was foretold that he would be short-lived.

"Estel and Gilraen came here when Arathorn was killed - Estel to be kept safe, hidden from the darkness seeking him; Gilraen to look after Estel and be succoured in her grief. She had barely four years with Arathorn, and even for Men, that is a short time. We hide Estel's true name and heritage until it is time for him to begin seeking his destiny, which is hidden even from my sight." Elrond raised his head and looked directly at Erestor, and under his gaze Erestor felt as if he was being analysed. "It appears that we have not been successful, despite this."

Elladan continued the story, bringing it to it's purpose. "The death of Arathorn was something we could not prevent. He was riding with us at the time, as you recall." Erestor did; the homecoming had been unusually sombre, but Elladan had been near insatiable for days afterward. It had been a brush with mortality, after all. "The Orcs seemed no different from the usual bands, and we destroyed them easily. The one that killed Arathorn was stronger, and carried an unusually well made bow. Archer Orcs are rare, and their bows usually primitive, their aim wayward. This one killed Arathorn with one arrow, from one shot. The arrow pierced Arathorn's eye, and went through to his brain. By the time we reached him, he was already passing into death. We could do nothing but bring him to his people, and we were not attacked on our journey there."

This was not the story Erestor had heard before, however. He had known the basics, but the details had been kept hidden. He could have been annoyed with Elladan for not confiding in him, but the sense of limiting this knowledge was clear, and so he was not annoyed. Perhaps, later, he could punish Elladan for keeping this from him, but in jest alone.

"You killed the Orc, I assume," he said. Elladan looked away, and Elrond closed his eyes.

"We can't be sure," said Elladan. "Neither Elrohir nor I remember killing with an Orc armed with such a bow, and once we got to Arathorn, the remaining Orcs had fled. Unless it was killed by one of the D�nedain nearby, or had discarded the bow to fight us hand to hand..."

It may have escaped, therefore the urgency and secrecy in hiding Estel. The possibilities were limited, but Erestor felt their gravity all the same. Perhaps the Orc had reached whoever gave it the bow, and reported on Arathorn's death. Someone could have been sent after Estel and found him gone from the D�nedain's ranks, and tracked him to Imladris.

That a threat could exist within the valley without anyone's knowledge seemed impossible, but the possibility... the proof... was confronting them. Nobody seemed to doubt that there was a serious threat to Estel's life, and the line of Kings.�

Glorfindel returned. "I'm told that Lindir has been taking Estel's food to him, and did so last night."

It made sense. Lindir had taken a liking to Estel, and as well as tutoring him in language and song had been spending some free time in the boy's company. Erestor was not surprised by that at all, yet he noticed that Glorfindel seemed troubled by the idea.

"There was no chance that the tray had been tampered with in the kitchen?" Glorfindel shook his head, still silent. Erestor would have pushed the issue if Elrohir had not arrived.

"Gilraen is beside herself; Estel has disappeared."

Erestor was left behind with Elrond, as Glorfindel and the twins left. They were best suited to finding the boy after all, but being left without a word, in such a way, left him disturbed. A chair had even been overturned when Elladan stood.

"Evil surrounds us," said Elrond. Erestor thought that made the issue quite clear, and agreed. Elrond hadn't finished yet, though, and his next statement chilled Erestor. "Yet I do not understand how it is here undetected."

Erestor glanced at the ring on Elrond's finger. The blue stone shimmered with an unnaturally bright fire. "The shadows darken," he said. "It may be that it remains hidden in our view, in a guise we cannot detect."

"Lindir? His soul is pure, and he harbours no ill-will towards Estel." Elrond seemed thoughtful, and Erestor thought that he may yet go back into that trancelike state. "No. This is an evil from outside, yet it is not allied with the Dark Lord, else all Mordor's armies would be upon us."

Vilya's blue fire seemed to glitter. Erestor's sight was drawn to it.

"But we can be deceived," he said. Elrond did not reply. He didn't have the time. A shout from outside, unmistakably Glorfindel, disrupted the peace of Imladris, and stirred even the mouse.

"I have not heard him like that since we marched on Angmar," said Erestor, and he and Elrond moved as swiftly as their robes would allow.�

The courtyard was filled with concerned Elves, in varying states of dress, some with weapons. The crowd parted for Elrond, and by extension, Erestor, following close behind. Glorfindel held Estel in his arms, limp and obviously unconscious. Elladan appeared at Erestor's side when Elrond reached Glorfindel.

"Quicksilver, when swallowed in small doses, acts as a poison. It causes dehydration, vomiting, and weakens the muscles. He must have been too weak to fight off his attacker. Estel was like that when we found him; Elrohir was trying to find a trail... I was coming to get you." Elladan's hand brushed over Erestor's arm. "I think he could be dead."

"We heard Glorfindel... dead?"

Elrond was herding Glorfindel towards the healer's rooms. "He looked it."

Elves dispersed once Glorfindel was out of sight, the excitement obviously over for now. Elladan's arm seemed to find it's own way around Erestor's waist. "We may have to go hunting again, until we find whoever has done this. Did you see Lindir? He looked as if he was about to cry."

Elrohir's voice startled Erestor. "Did he? I thought he looked almost satisfied." Elrohir had found his way behind the pair, and walked on the other side of Erestor as they started towards the healer's rooms. The twins moved by unspoken agreement, as they always did, and Erestor was herded along, not unwillingly, by Elladan's possessive grip. �

They met Glorfindel outside. He was guarding the entrance to the healing rooms.

"He's alive, barely," he said in greeting, straightening from his semi-reclined slouch against the wall.

Erestor nodded in acknowledgement, but all was silent as they waited for word. Elrond liked to be alone at first, when healing someone. It would take too much of his concentration away from his patient to have someone else present, and he was well known that he was not adverse to being uncivil to those who intruded.

"I tracked it back to the courtyard," said Elrohir, finally, just as Elrond appeared in the doorway.

"So it's an Elf, then?" he said. "Estel's injuries weren't made by an Elf."

"Maybe it hid?" Elladan said, a note of suggestion in his voice, but not very seriously. Somebody would have mentioned, or at least noticed, an animal. Elrohir glared at his brother.

"Estel was indeed poisoned, with quicksilver. Glorfindel? You said Lindir took Estel's tray up last night?"

Erestor would have thought it impossible for Glorfindel to blush.

"That's what the kitchen maid I spoke to said, but it can't be true."

"Lindir seemed pretty pleased to see that Estel was hurt," said Elrohir.

"I told you he was almost in tears!" replied Elladan. Erestor fought down the urge to roll his eyes. Such arguments from the twins were fairly common, but often ill-timed.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond drew attention back to the warrior, effectively silencing the twins.

"Lindir was with me last night. We ate in my rooms and then... well..." Glorfindel was indeed blushing, the pale pink flush spreading over his face as he mumbled the rest of his sentence.

Elladan stuck his tongue out at Elrohir before Erestor guided him away. He'd let Glorfindel take guard duty over Estel for now, or Elrond. Keeping the twins together, when they had vastly different opinions, would only mean that they would bicker until something forced them together. How two similar faces could mask two highly different personalities was something that had mystified Erestor since the twins were born.

A possibility occurred to him then, something from the old stories, barely hinted at in lore and song. He left Elladan in their rooms and walked to the library. Lindir hurried past him, apparently coming from the Hall of Fire. He avoided eye contact, hunching over and fleeing as if a Balrog were behind him. There was blood in Lindir's hair; it caught the sun, a red splash marring the pale silver strands. Erestor paused, but when he turned, Lindir was gone.

He hurried to the library, and began searching.�

Elrond found him there hours later.

"You missed lunch. Find what you were looking for?" Erestor put the book down on the table and kept it open with his hand.

"Perhaps," he said, only looking up when he had finished reading. "Are Elrohir and Elladan still fighting?"

"I told them to prepare for a journey. I want Estel away from here, tomorrow if he's recovered enough to move."

"He's not badly hurt, then?"

"He was, but his wounds only need time to heal, and I don't think it's safe if something's searching for him here."

"You don't think it's Lindir, then?" Quickly, Erestor related what he'd seen. Elrond looked concerned, though still inscrutable. Erestor was never quite sure what Elrond was hiding.

"Glorfindel is an honest Elf, and a reliable alibi. If Lindir did not poison Estel, he certainly had no reason to attack him. He also doesn't have claws." A rustle alerted both to someone else's presence. Erestor looked around, but saw nobody. Still, he lowered his voice, in case they were being listened to.

"Claws?"

Elrond made claws with his hands and mimicked a scratching motion. "Estel was scratched, deeply, by something with four claws. Glorfindel says a dark shape was standing over him when they found him, near the cemetery. A dark, shadowy, animal shape, I think were his words."

"The shadows have been darker of late," said Erestor. Elrond nodded.

"We have an intruder, one we can't see or sense."

"But I did," said Erestor, and turned the book so that Elrond could see. "I felt something in Estel's room."

"And I have sensed it and said nothing," said Lindir, approaching them. "Out of fear and a lack of faith in my abilities, I have allowed this to happen."

"Did you just change your robes?" asked Erestor, immediately aware of how strange his question sounded. The look on Lindir's tear-streaked face was one of confusion.

"Go," said Elrond.

Erestor ran out of the library, showing a lack of discipline for the first time in anyone's memory. He ignored a multitude of strange looks and questioning addresses, reaching the healer's rooms and Elrohir without stopping.

"Lindir went in there, without even asking Glorfindel," said Elrohir. "He told me to stay here, and went after him."

Erestor hissed, every sense suddenly alert and his body tense. "What?" said Elrohir.

"Go get your brother, and make sure he brings his mithril knives." Elrohir was about to question him, but Erestor sensed it. "Go!" he said, more forcefully. Elrohir ran. Erestor hoped Glorfindel was armed, somehow, and entered the healer's rooms.�

Calling them rooms was slightly inaccurate. It was a separate building, close to the western wing of the main Imladris structure. It was easy to access, and close enough that most thought that it was part of the west wing. It was not, however, and it would take Elrohir longer to reach Erestor's rooms because of it. Erestor found it easier not to think of that when he heard Lindir - Lindir's voice, because Lindir was in the library with Elrond - speaking to Glorfindel.

"I have watched over this one since he was young. He is mine."

"I will not let you touch him, demon spawn," said Glorfindel. Erestor smiled grimly at Glorfindel's language. He had always known that Glorfindel was not entirely refined, but he seemed to be able to control his less-than polite impulses. Except, of course, in battle, when he seemed to let all his callousness out and direct it towards his enemy. It made him effective enough, though he would still have no chance against this enemy, if Erestor's suspicion was correct.

He turned into the doorway and faced Lindir.

"I suppose you thought it was clever to poison the boy, skin-changer," said Erestor, distracting the creature. "Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

Glorfindel struck when the creature's attention was focussed on Erestor. The attack, a reverse back kick,� only angered the creature, but in pursuing Glorfindel, it allowed Erestor to move between it and Estel. The boy was awake, and obviously scared. Erestor signalled for him to stay quiet.

"I killed the boy's father. It was easy enough." Erestor saw Estel flinch, and gave up on calming the boy. "Even Elrond's twin bastards couldn't kill me! They tried to save him, let their hearts get in the way of the battle."

"An honourable trait," spat Glorfindel. Erestor saw the moisture flying through the air.

"One you don't possess, and could never learn," he added.

"I don't need pity to weaken me!" said the creature, it's voice changing as it spoke. "All I need is to kill the boy, and prove my worth to the Dark Lord."

<< I have seen his like before... >> said Glorfindel, in Erestor's mind, as the creature's body began to change as well. Robes slipped to the ground as it ducked out of them, while hair grew through the pale Elven skin, and Erestor heard the cracking of bones as the creature's limbs shortened and altered.� << He is an ancient skin-changer, from Tol-in-Gaurhoth. This one has, over time, acquired the ability to change into more than one form. >>

Erestor didn't know if he could reply. Glorfindel was older, and far more powerful than he was, and didn't flaunt it unless he had to. That included giving lessons.

The creature had taken the form of a warg-like dog, heavily-built but much leaner than any warg Erestor had seen, and its head was elongated, more doglike than a warg's.

<< Can you kill it? >> he thought desperately, not expecting an answer.

<< No. It cannot be killed by strength alone. >> Still, Glorfindel readied himself for a fight, and Erestor did the same, instinctually. The creature - skin-changer, Erestor reminded himself - eyed them carefully.

A glint from near Estel distracted Erestor, and when he looked to see what it was, the skin-changer pounced. Estel threw a knife, one Elrond kept near to hand in the healer's rooms in case he needed to reopen an infected wound, and it lodged in the creature's neck. It reared, and cried out. The low roar caused the floor to move under Erestor's feet, and he overbalanced. To compensate, he tried to hit the ground hands-first, and spin his leg under the skin-changer.

It almost worked, but the skin-changer fell too fast, and pushed him to the ground. He lay beneath it, unable to move.

"You would come between me and my prey, Elfling? I have hunted longer than you have been alive."

The creature seemed unaffected by Glorfindel's attempts to make it move. "I have been exiled for long enough," it said, and while Erestor was still wondering how it could talk, it lowered its head and opened its mouth.

<< He's going to bite you!! Erestor, you have to move. Now. >>

But Erestor couldn't. The creature weighed too much, and he was unable to gain any leverage in order to free himself.

"And you will be exiled far longer when you pass out of this world," said a new voice. Erestor thought it may have been Elladan. He couldn't be sure, though, for the shadows grew dark and began to close in around him.

But the skin-changer roared in pain, and left Erestor for a new target. He sat up, slowly, and watched as Elladan pushed his second mithril knife into the chest of the skin-changer, and Elrohir's sword cleaved into it's neck. It fell to the ground, and whined, before shifting once more. It moulted and shrunk until it was clearly a man, and then stilled.

Elladan removed his knives with a disgusted air. "Creatures," he said, disdainfully, and kicked it's stomach. The skin-changer whimpered, and then the shadows fled. Elrohir went to Estel, and Erestor felt Elladan's arms around him.

"Is nobody going to hug me?" asked Glorfindel, as he casually wiped down Elrohir's sword.

"I will," said Lindir.

Erestor didn't see what happened when Glorfindel crossed to the door, but he heard a quiet, breathy noise, and Estel saying "ew".

"What happened?" said Elladan, not meaning what was that, or why was it here.

"It's vulnerable to silver, of all kinds," said Erestor. "Your mithril knives were poison to it, because they are made from forged truesilver. It's why he chose quicksilver to poison Estel with, rather than something more efficient; it's the only kind of poison it knows."

"If Huan hadn't have died... would we have known?"

Erestor shook his head.

"Mother and I buried Huan, and I sang a song for him," said Estel, as Elrond arrived, fashionably late and leading Gilraen by the hand. She stepped over the skin-changer, daintily enough to ensure that no part of her body or clothing touched it, and joined Elrohir at her son's side.�

~*~�

The skin-changer was burned on a pyre just outside the Imladris border. Glorfindel wouldn't speak of what had been said before Erestor had arrived, and Erestor, on thinking about it, decided that he didn't want to know. It was a threat, and it had been extinguished. It had been alone, and a renegade, seeking employ in Sauron's service. Erestor knew enough of the stories of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves, to know that if any had been travelling with this one, they had either been killed or separated. It was almost surprising that this one had survived, though given how long it had watched Estel, he couldn't bring himself to stop looking over his shoulder just yet.

"I wonder if he had a name," said Estel, from beside him. He recovered quickly once his food was untainted, and while he still bore some marks from the skin-changer's claws, he had resumed weapons training and was almost back to his previously agile state. His eyes, though, held a shadow in them, as if for a moment he had seen past death, and the memory lived within him.

"I'm sure he did," said Elladan. "And whoever named him will be waiting on the other side..."

"Probably to castrate him for killing them," finished Elrohir, though that was obviously not what Elladan had intended to say, judging from Elladan's well-aimed kick. "Ow. What was that for?"

"How they survive out there when they go off hunting, I do not know," said Elrond.

"Probably they don't talk," said Glorfindel, glancing at the twins, who were racing each other back to Imladris. "They'll have to, though, when they take Estel with them."

"Estel will be going with them?" asked Gilraen, her voice soft. She was mourning the loss of her child, Erestor knew. They had talked; Gilraen knew that her son was becoming a man, and that her role as his mother and caregiver was coming to an end.

"Yes," said Elrond.

Gilraen nodded. "It's as it must be."

Erestor felt her pain. Of course Estel would need to learn to track and cover his own path in the wilds of Middle Earth, but for his mother's sake, he wished the time had not come so soon.�

"We're leaving tomorrow," Elrohir announced when the rest of them reached Imladris. "It will be a relief to have some peace and quiet for a change."

Glorfindel snorted, and Elrohir grinned in response. "We were thinking of taking Estel to see the Trollshaws. It's a relatively short journey, by horse at least..." Glorfindel guided Elrohir away, and Estel received permission from Gilraen to follow. He ran after them, looking as if all had been forgotten. Erestor saw Lindir waiting by the entrance to the armoury, and raised a hand. Lindir inclined his head, but saved his smile for Glorfindel.

Elrond and Gilraen entered the entrance hall. For a moment, Erestor thought he saw a shadow around Gilraen, as if she was near death, but the thought passed with Elladan's touch.

"Since I'm leaving tomorrow, and might be gone for a month or two, do you think you could find it in yourself to spend the night with me, oh fair Elf?"

Erestor allowed himself to be led back to his quarters, where he found himself holding the headboard of his bed, Elladan's mouth driving his body to betray his usual reserve, surrounding him with moisture and heat until he had to beg for release. �

Both knew that they would not have many nights together until events which had just been set in motion came to their end, at some point in the veiled future.