[Edit 8/17/2015]

Disclaimer and Author's Note: I own nothing. All characters belong to the Tolkien Estate. A word of caution~ if you are strictly a Tolkien LotR fan, this fanfiction is simply not for you, and I urge you to turn away. Despite numerous tries, and my best efforts (as I am an avid reader and really wanted to like this book collection because I fell in love with the movies) I have been unable to surpass page 90 on both the Fellowship of the Ring and The Hobbit. I guess (sadly) that it's just not for me, and I'm hoping that you can understand this. Therefore, this story is AU but follows more of Peter Jackson's LotR movie plot line with my own little touches sprinkled in.

Chapter One~ Her Choice

"Tis a curious thing, that such a small object, a trinket as simple as a ring, might end our world as we know it."

Arwen Undomiel awoke in cold sweat. She clutched at her chest, gasping for breath; the hobbit's anguished screams still ringing in her ears. So the Black Riders had found them… She had known it was only going to be a matter of time until they had. The Ring called to the wraiths, it had driven them mad with greed. Middle Earth's hope now rested upon the shoulder's of a young hobbit, Frodo Baggins. It was a heavy burden indeed, and one he should never have had to accept in the first place. The odds had been dealt against him, and the chances of him returning alive and well were dwindling.

Frodo, along with his friend Samwise Gamgee, and his relatives of sorts, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregin Took, had left The Shire and made for Bree almost immediately following Bilbo Baggin's mysterious and unexplained disappearance from Bag End. A Duneadain from the North, Strider they called him, was sent to escort the hobbits, and The Ring, to Rivendell in the Grey Wizard's absence. And so the chase had begun, with darkness pursuing them from Bree to Weathertop. It was at Weathertop where they had fallen. Frodo was injured, to what extent she did not know. She did know, however, that they would never make it to Rivendell in time. It was a six day journey at least, and with the Nazgul hunting them- Arwen shook her head, trying to rid herself of the darkness and unease that plagued her mind.

She left the warm comfort of the bed and strode to her balcony, where she began to pace. She could not, she would not, leave them to die. The wraiths would run them down and kill every one of them- No. She could not allow herself to think that way. He promised he would return to her. He promised he would never leave her. She had to trust him and his word. He had told her to stay put... But if they were to perish, and she remained in Rivendell, behind her walls of stone, their blood, like a river of red, would stain her hands... And if they died, all hope would be lost.

She had to try and save Frodo. She had to make sure Estel was alive and well... And if she should fail, she knew her heart and mind would be at peace, knowing she had tried. She hurried to her wardrobe, searching frantically for her riding outfit. She slipped out of her nightgown and into the dove gray suede tunic and plum colored breeches. She hastily put her gowns back into the wardrobe and grabbed her suede boots and gloves. Before leaving the room, she stuffed her pillows under the divan, giving it the illusion of a sleeping form. She quietly shut her door, locking it behind her.

She crept through the dark halls of Lord Elrond's palace, careful not to disturb a soul. The pristine halls of The Last Homely House were deserted, much to her relief, as she began her descent into Rivendell's cellars. She carefully unlatched the heavy, wooden door that led to the outside gardens, weary of the scraping sound it emitted. She ran through Imlardis's beautiful gardens and to the stables where she pushed open the stable's white and gold doors and strode to a stall where a handsome grey, dappled stallion stood, waiting. "Hello, Asofaloth," she cooed as she stroked his velvet nose. "Do you know where they are?" Her magnificent stallion bobbed his head, as if nodding yes. She gracefully mounted her steed and pressed him into a swift canter as they exited the stables. As she neared Rivendell's borders, she found her path barred by an elven guard on horseback.

"State your purpose."

"Good morning, Glorifiendel." She replied breezily, reigning Asofaloth to a halt.

"Your purpose?" The guard demanded.

"Very well," Arwen conceded, holding her head high and looking directly into his piercing, blue eyes. "I wish to pass."

"And why," he drawled, as he removed his helmet,"would my Lady be out riding, at this hour in the morning, and wish to leave Rivendell?" He ran a pale hand through his long, blonde hair, looking at her intently.

"I fancied a morning ride." She replied easily.

"I am sure you did..." He eyed her with distrust.

"Oh Glorifiendel, I long to gallop across the barren plains, with only the wind and the eagles to race. To see the mountains and hear the rush of the river-"

"Gallop through the gardens, Arwen." Glorfiendel interrupted impatiently.

"Come now, where is your sense of adventure, Glorifiendel?"

"Do not play coy with me, Arwen." He warned.

"If I told you the true reason, not that a desire for a morning ride is not true; but if I were to tell you an alternative motive, I highly doubt you would let me go..."

"Try me."

"I am going to save the hobbits." Silence followed her announcement. Glorifiendel stared at her incredulously.

"Have you lost your mind?" He hissed. "Arwen, this is absurd. You cannot ride against The Nazgul! They will kill anyone who stands in their way. And, if by some miracle you were to return alive, I can assure you that it would not be for long. I am quite sure your father will kill you upon your arrival home. I can guarantee you that he will be joined by your brothers and Estel. And when they discover I did not attempt to stop you, they will kill me as well. And then you again..."

"Please, Glorfiendel. You have to trust me! I can do this!"

"You know you will be committing high treason if Asofaloth steps one hoof over these borders..."

"I do not think Ada will have me imprisoned in our dungeons if I succeed..."

"And I do not think he will desire to make funeral arrangements should you fail..."

"Failing is not an option right now."

"Arwen... I would never forgive myself if you did not return safely."

"And I would never forgive myself if I stayed here and they perished..." She persisted. "If I do not go, who will?"

"I would."

"I know you would." She smiled softly. "But this is my choice and I have decided. I will still go with or without your permission. Though it would be much easier with your consent."

"I know." He had a sad smile on his face. "You may pass, Arwen Undomiel, and may the Valar protect you."

"Thank you, Glorfiendel." She replied, smiling at him.

"But know that if my Lord Eldrond questions me of your whereabouts, I will have no choice but to tell him of your intentions."

"I would expect no less." She replied grimly.

"Ride swiftly, mellonamin* ("my friend) all of Middle Earth's hope now rests on you…"

Arwen reached down to stroke Asofaloth's gleaming coat. "Noro lim* ("Ride on") Asofaloth, noro lim," she whispered. Asofaloth lunged forward, breaking into a rapid gallop as they raced west, towards the Old Watch Tower.