Chapter One
A woman sat huddled in the common room of an inn, the Prancing Pony. She remained in her cloak despite the relative warmth of the room. Silently, she stared out at the rain poured outside, loudly slapping onto the roof tiles. Studiously, she ignored the strange looks the people of the crowd often gave her. A cloaked figure sitting alone in the corner was of automatic suspicion to them.
As she quietly sipped her tea, another cloaked figure walked up to her table and sat down opposite her. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. In that time, the newcomer studied the other customers of the inn. They were a mixture of men and hobbits, unique to the area of Bree.
Several minutes later, the woman asked the other, "What are you doing here, Aragorn?"
"Gandalf is coming. You must wait another day," he said, his voice husky from the disuse of solitary travel.
"You know I cannot do that! I'm already a week late for the havens!"
"Then don't leave yet! You know they will wait for you! Please, Anariel!"
"Be silent! Do you have any idea how long I have waited? What I have endured! Why must I wait longer?"
"Only Mithrandir knows! Please wait ONE more day for him!"
"What is this about, Aragorn?" she asked, suspicious that she already knew.
"It is about the war," he said vaguely.
"Which war?"
Aragorn turned to look her in the eye seriously. He said, "You know which, Anariel. The one that started it all."
"He swore to me he would never make me relive that!"
Quite suddenly, she gasped in pain and clutched her head with her hands. "Anar? Anar! What is wrong?" Aragorn exclaimed quietly, placing his hands gently over hers. She immediately jerked away from his hands and removed her own hands from her head.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. They were completely and totally black, including what should have been white. In a deeper tone than was her natural voice, she said prophetically, "They are coming, the Nine…Shire…Baggins…Amon Sul…the River…" She suddenly collapsed onto the table, completely unconscious.
Hesitantly, Aragorn touched her shoulder with a single finger. She immediately bolted upright, her eyes back to their normally unusual silver. She locked eyes with him and took a long, shuddering breathe.
"I shall wait for Mithrandir…They know…"
"I need to get to the border. I might be able to find him when he comes," Aragorn said.
"You would do better to wait here. They should be here within a few days. Tell Mithrandir that I went to see Curumo, and that I'll meet him at Imladris," she said.
He nodded and waited as she left, not questioning her ability to know things like this. In these matters, her knowledge far exceeded his own.