Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
At the Prancing Pony
I've been waiting for the hobbits for several days. I don't know where Gandalf is but without him here we have to go on alone. The hobbits and the Ring they carry have to get to Imladris and it falls to me to lead them. I know the darkness that follows them, I know the danger the riders bring with them. I also know that they do not know these things.
"What are they?" Frodo asked. How do I answer that? You might as well try to describe a dream as describe a nightmare and if anything in Middle-Earth qualifies for that description it is the Nazgûl. They are my nightmare in more ways than one.
"They were once men, great kings of men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power and blinder by their greed they took them without question. One by one falling to darkness. Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgûl, Ring Wraiths, neither living nor dead," which, of course, makes them very difficult to kill. I thought but did not say. "At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to its power. They will never stop hunting you."
I know they didn't want to hear the news of what follows them but they had to know. They also have to know the power to corrupt that the Ring has. Kings, the chosen leaders, who should have protected their people above all other fell to the darkness. How can one be a true leader if you can fall to that evil, to that darkness. I know the standards I hold them to are ones I have yet to face. I don't know whether I would pass that test or if I too would fail and condemn myself and my people. That test is one of my true fears. I carry a heritage of failure. I know I am not my ancestor but his failure taints my bloodline. Until I too am tested I will not know for certain. I suspect that in the coming days I shall find out whether I will fall or not, and then I shall know my worth as a leader.