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"Who are you? Answer me at once!" Elrond commanded the formless evil, his voice thundering angrily.

"Who am I? You of all beings should not have to ask. You know me, Elrond Half-Elven, for I have known you for a long, long time."

Elrond crossed his arms stubbornly. "No more games, evil one. The one you haunt is my son, and he is very dear to me. You will not win this confrontation."

The haze began to solidify, taking on the form of Estel, then in the space of a few seconds, changing to into Elladan. "Which son, Elrond? Which will you save?"

"Why do you believe that I can save only one?"

His question seemed to stump the being, if only for a moment, and it avoided answering him. Instead, the form of Elladan changed into Celebrian, and then into Elros. "So much pain, so many memories ... it has been too long since I have feasted."

With that, the fog faded, and Elrond found himself once again inside Estel's memories. He could clearly see the limp form of his foster son tied crudely to a post. A massive orc swung a whip, striking the young human repeatedly across his back. Elrond felt the burning, slicing pain of each stroke, and the desperate fear and pain that clouded Estel's mind. He heard the agonized cries that were forced from his son, most of them in Elvish, as the tortured young ranger struggled and twisted in his bonds to escape from the lash.

He had seen the wounds that marred Estel's back when he had lain healing in Rivendell, but had tried to avoid thinking too much about the brutality that had caused them. The sight of his Estel enduring such torture and cruelty made him feel physically sick.

The beating did not stop until the orc with the whip grew tired of his sport. After re-attaching the bloody whip to his belt, the orc seize Estel's face roughly. "Where is it, human? Tell me how to find Rivendell, and your suffering will end."

Estel's body shivered convulsively with the pain, but he still managed a harsh, bitter-sounding laugh. "There - there is no end to suffering for me. I will not tell you."

Angered at Estel's insolence, the orc drew his scimitar from his belt and slowly, deliberately, drew it from his hairline all the way down to his jaw. "Tell me or the poison from the blade will kill you."

A whimper of pain could not be held back, but Estel stood his ground. He was in too much pain to reply again, and he slowly slipped into unconsciousness, his last thought one of satisfaction that his loved ones would be safe.

Elrond's throat constricted in horror as Estel was left to hang limply from the post, his young body beaten and battered to the point of unconsciousness.

"Enjoying your stay in the human's mind, Elrond?"

At the sound of the now-familiar voice, Elrond whirled around, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature in its true form. He could see two glowing, yellow eyes that seemed to hang disembodied in the mist. Gradually, the fog swirled, coming together to form a figure that vaguely resembled a wizard, holding a staff.

"I was with him, you know. Even as the orcs beat him, I was inside his mind, though I had not yet made my presence known. I must say, you did a thorough job with him. By the time I got to him, my work had been done for me. The human succumbed easily to despair."

The Lord of Imladris glared at the creature. "It is my turn to ask questions and receive answers. Who are you, and why do you torment us? Do you not realize that I am the bearer of a Ring of Power? I have kept evil from Rivendell with its power for centuries. How is it that you escaped my notice?"

A cold, chilling chuckle echoed strangely, seeming to come from every direction at once. "What kind of question is that? I came into Rivendell at your invitation. When you exiled the human, you invited despair into his heart. When you brought him back to Rivendell, the despair was yet a part of him. Thus, my presence here."

"I do not understand!"

With an eerie sigh, the creature took on a posture of annoyance. "Surely you of all beings in Middle Earth understand that all gifts offered by Sauron come with a price? That is why you use Vilya sparingly, is it not?"

Elrond did not gratify the creature with a response.

"I was once of flesh and blood, but now I feed only upon despair. I would have been a wizard, would have sat at council with Gandalf the Grey, Radagast the Brown, and Saruman the White. I took a staff, offered to me by Sauron, and this is what became of me. I am a tool of the Dark Lord, sent to bring suffering to the house of Elrond Half-Elven. For my effort, I was promised all of the pain and despair to devour that I could hold. I have not yet been disappointed. Between the two of your sons whose minds I now inhabit, I feel sated for the first time in centuries. But, they are mere appetizers compared to you, Elrond Half-Elven."

In Estel's room, Elrohir, Legolas, Glorfindel, and Arwen stood watch. Mithrandir stood, holding his staff out before him, ready to intervene if it became necessary. When tears began to roll down Elrond's cheeks, Arwen was the first to notice.

"Ada! Elrohir, Ada is crying!"

Sadly, her brother shook his head. "He must have seen something terrible in Estel's mind. Mithrandir, should we bring him out of it now?"

The wizard sighed. "No, not yet. I'm afraid this could get much worse before Elrond finishes his task."

Legolas moved to kneel beside Estel's still form, gently brushing back stray locks of hair from the human's forehead. "You have seen much that I wish you had not, my friend. Do not give in, Estel. I am with you."

"Why do you comfort Estel when it is Elrond who is distressed?" Glorfindel asked, eyeing Legolas curiously.

The Prince of Mirkwood did not remove his hand from Estel's forehead. "Because the memory or thought that has caused Lord Elrond's distress is Estel's to bear."

Glorfindel thought for a moment then nodded. "I see. Where is Elladan? Why is he not here?"

Legolas, Elrohir, and Arwen exchanged glances, and finally, Elrohir explained softly, "We argued, and he did not wish to be here. He remained in his room."

The blond warrior of Rivendell frowned in concern, but Elrohir shrugged the concern away. "Elladan and I will make our peace, have no fear, Glorfindel. Right now, it is Estel and Ada who need me."

Flashback ...

"Ada! Ada, come quickly! Elrohir has awakened!" Elladan shouted as he ran into his father's study. Normally, he would never have barged in on his father in such a manner, but his excitement at hearing that his twin was awake banished such inhibitions.

Elladan found his father seated at his desk, busily scribbling a note onto parchment.

"Elladan! Calm yourself, my son. Have you spoken with him yet?"

"No, I was just informed by one of the healers that my brother was awake and had asked for you."

Since the departure of Lady Celebrian, the house of the Peredhil had been quiet, with an underlying sense of sadness. Galadriel and Celeborn yet remained to wait for their grandson to awaken, but they had spent much of their time comforting Arwen. Elrond had been holed up in his study, and had given instructions that he was busy and should not be disturbed.

Elladan and Elrond strode hurriedly to the healers' ward. When they arrived, one of the healers was trying to keep a struggling Elrohir in his bed.

"Mother! Where is my mother? Elladan? Where is he? Why do you prevent me from rising? I have to find Elladan!"

Rushing to his brother's side, Elladan sat down, wrapping his arms around his twin. "Elrohir, I am here. Shh, shh, you must lie still. You are yet wounded."

"Where is Mother? Why is she not here? Is - is she ."

"No." Elrond interrupted his son before he could ask if she was dead. "She lives, but has sailed for the Grey Havens."

The confusion was apparent on the wounded young elf's face. "Gone? She has already departed? How - how long was I unconscious?"

When Elrond did not answer, Elladan spoke, "Seven days, brother. You have lain unconscious for seven days. She left on the fourth."

Elrohir frowned, his eyes filled with pain. "Did she say anything before she left? What were her parting words?"

"She had none. The last time I saw her was the last time you did. She would see no one save Ada and our grandparents. They are still here, but when they depart, Arwen will return to Lothlorien with them."

Elrohir let out a broken sigh that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Why? Elladan, why did she - how could she - why does Ada stand there? Will he depart as well? Is - is he going to leave us too?"

At the note of desperate grief in his son's voice, Elrond could remain standing apart no longer. He slowly lowered himself down onto the bed, taking Elrohir's chin gently in his hand. "I am here, my son. I will not leave you. Your - your mother did not do so by preference. She was too badly damaged to remain here in Middle Earth."

Elrond's words did not comfort his sons, and Elrohir burst out, "It is my fault! I could not reach her, could not save her in time. I should have protected her."

Elladan protested, "No! You nearly died protecting her. If I had been faster, I could have saved you."

"Stop, both of you!" Elrond's outburst caught and held the attention of both of his sons. "Do not take blame that is not yours to own. Your mother would not have you live in torment and guilt."

Those words of their father's, meant to comfort, to soothe anxious minds, had the opposite effect. Whether Celebrian would have had it or not, guilt took hold in the minds of her sons, and it was many long years until one would come along who could again bring laughter into the house of the Peredhil.

End Flashback.

"No, not your fault, Elrohir. Mine. Could have saved you, could have saved her." Elladan buried his head in his knees, helpless to fight against the overwhelming onslaught of memory and despair.