A very strong warning: this story will contain disturbing, adult content. There will be absolutely nothing graphic depicted, but it will be extremely dark in places, and some may find it quite upsetting. I will make more detailed warnings as I feel the chapters warrant it. I also want to stress, though, that as dark as this may get, I do see it ultimately as an uplifting story of redemption and renewal and of the strength of the human spirit, and I hope that those who are able to stick with it will find it rewarding in the end.

This begins later in the same day that "A Yearling Shoot" ends. I would recommend reading that story first before you begin this one, though it isn't absolutely necessary. I'm using a somewhat unusual style here, but I assure you, the rest of the story will be written as a more traditional narrative.

The sections of text taken directly from a conversation between Elrond and Aragorn in Appendix A: Here Follows a Part of the Tale of Aragorn and Arwen are in italics.

Prologue: The Evil to Come

I am weary. What is the hour? Darkness descends now, but it was morning still when first I called Estel into my chamber and confronted him, my foster son, about his feelings for my daughter. Have I truly dwelt here lost in my thoughts for all the day?

Estel, you foolish boy! Your own eyes have betrayed you.... How could you not know that I would read you as easily as words upon an open page? But...she is of a lineage greater than yours, and she has lived in the world already so long that to her you are but as a yearling shoot beside a young birch of many summers.... How do you dare, Isildur's last heir, descendant of an all but fallen mortal line, deem yourself worthy even to dream of her favour? She is too far above you.

And so, I think, it may well seem to her.... Surely, I have spoken true! For Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar, and the fairest of our people still to walk upon these lands, to turn her eye to a mere mortal youth, no matter whom he may claim as his forefathers: even to consider it is madness! And yet, Estel, what fear is it that made my words to you so harsh today? You do not know yet what you desire of me....

But there will be no choice before Arwen, my beloved, unless you, Aragorn, Arathorn's son, come between us and bring one of us, you or me, to a bitter parting beyond the end of the world.... And what a grievous parting would it be! If it came to that, my only daughter, would you turn from the land of your people, from eternal bliss in the Blessed Realm? Would you abandon me, and your mother, for a mere few years of fleeting happiness in the world of men? Oh, Celebrían, how I long for your wisdom and your counsel in this matter!

The clouds are growing thick now, and the air is heavy with the promise of rain. It rained on that night too, my beloved wife, the night you were brought home to me a mere shadow of what you were. Tormented without mercy at the hands of those foul beasts, those servants of evil, you suffered such unspeakable acts of base depravity I cannot even now bring myself to think upon it. But still, I remember how you writhed on the bed and pulled away from my softest touch, shivering in terror as I fought to heal you. How you begged for death to set you free! I remember in the darkness of each long night that followed how you awoke screaming in terror, still locked in a horrible nightmare from which you could find no escape. I could bring you no comfort, I could not reach you. You were lost to me.

I no longer recognized you, my love. They had consumed you and left behind naught but a battered and broken shell, thin and hollow. You seldom spoke, but when you did, your voice was flat, devoid of all emotion, and though you could not bear to look at me for more than the briefest of moments, those fleeting glances were enough to reveal that the light no longer shone behind your eyes; all that remained was a cold and dark void, an emptiness which frightened me above all else. You were fading, and I knew you had to leave us to save your very life. Much to my shame, I had failed you. Never again will your melodic laughter fill the rooms of this house, nor your smile brighten these now dreary halls.

But why do I dwell on that this evening? Surely, Celebrían, you are now healed and whole, and waiting, safe and content, in Aman, until the day we all are reunited, far from this darkness and despair. Far from this evil.

The years will bring what they will. We will speak no more of this until many have passed.... Estel, my son, I grew to love you as my own, and always you were such a good boy: strong and brave, courteous, honourable, and humble. Born a leader. And though you knew it not, in you I saw again the promise of a line of Kings unbroken, of a grand and noble race undiminished. Not for many generations have any mortal descendants of Elros so reminded me of him, my own brother. Aragorn, Arathorn's son, Lord of the Dúnedain, listen to me! A great doom awaits you, either to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin... We all have placed much hope in you, Estel, and you will carry a great burden.

Many years of trial lie before you...this much I know, and it fills me with sorrow. Again and again you shall be put to the test, and your trials, I fear, will be most harsh. But you must rise above it all, my son, or you will fall. And all of Middle Earth could fall as well with you.

The days darken, and much evil is to come... much evil is to come... I can feel that sudden chill again, that tingling down my spine that warns me of the coming of a vision. But what do I see now—a portent of the future or a horror of the past? No! Stop this--I cannot bear it! Not Celebrían brought low again by foul creatures that torment her with vulgar words and vile acts! No...but wait--it is not my wife I see, it is Estel! Where is my son? Something is wrong...

"Elrond! What is the matter?"

Before I might answer I struggle to regain my breath, which I find has been robbed from me: "Glorfindel, where is Estel?"

"I do not know. I have not seen him since this morning, and he did not report for his watch this evening. This I came to report to you when I heard you call out. Forgive me for not knocking."

I must steady myself against the railing of the balcony to stop from collapsing. "Tell me --that band of men that set up camp just outside the borders of our woods last eve, do they remain there still?

"Yes, when last my scouts reported to me an hour or so ago, and judging from their jovial mood, they have no plans to leave this night. At last report, they were drinking ale and singing, quite merrily I'm told, but apparently quite badly. They are small in number, and from all appearances, a band of merchants who happened near our borders in their travels. I believe they have no knowledge of our presence, and it is obvious they are no trained warriors. I did not judge them a threat, but, if necessary, the perimeter guards could deal with them swiftly and effectively, be assured. Is there a problem I am unaware of?"

Is there a problem? ...much evil is to come... much evil is to come... "Take a small party of your best fighters out to the borders of our realm and find Estel. Quickly! Make haste, I urge you, and bring my sons with you also, for I greatly fear you will have need of a healer before this night is through!"

Comments and critiques are welcome and very much appreciated. I would love to hear what you think!