It's a regular day. If you could call any day regular that is. In the forests just of the great east road, all is quiet. Not many venture through these roads, not with weather top so close by. I'm perched comfortably in a high tree, picking up any traces of wildlife. Being a half-elf gives me the same senses as elves, a lot better than the senses of men. But unknown to most, my senses have grown more aware, and brighter with my time in the forest, and are much more atoned than most fully fledged elves. With my tall, slim figure, many expect me to be a refined elven lady, who organises dinners, and arranges clothing. That was never me, and could never be.
My ears twitch and I catch sight of the behind of a dear, and I silently reach for an arrow from my quiver, and draw it back against my bow, taking up the perfect stance. I've been giving myself certain challenges lately while hunting, trying to sharpen my skills even more than usual. This time I'll go directly for the heart, shot from its underside. A particularly hard shot.
As the deer rears slightly just before it pounces of, my breathing becomes deeper and I feel the world around me go at a slower pace, and I take the shot. It makes it's mark, and I hear the satisfying sound of and arrow striking its target. I look down from a good 75m away, and I can already see the exact point where it stopped the deer's life. Directly to the heart, at a perfect angle.
I smile at myself as I flash down to it, and retrieve it and take it to my treetop hideout. Once there I gut it and start a low but burning fire and start to cook a small portion. After enjoying the warming meal I rinse my hands and find myself watching my reflection in the water.
My blue black hair darting straight down to my waist, yet confined in a neat side-plait, with my long side fringe reaching my chin over my left eye. Full, cherry lips and an elven nose, with the pale complexion like any elf I've seen. The tamed eyebrows and curled lashes. And lastly the eyes. My eyes, the same deep blue as the water, that have been described as moving just as waves do.
The image shatters as a lone raindrop falls into the water, and I look up to the skies. A few more raindrops follow and I can feel an unnatural storm coming. I climb to the very top of the tree, hovering on the tallest branch. I have about an hour until it hits. I check the hideout for any leakages, and gather my pack, making sure I have everything I need. Medical kit, food, small roll of parchment, a tiny bottle of ink and my fire starter all packed. I quickly change into my travelling gear, a dark navy long-sleeved shirt, a corset-like body-hugging vest barely visible over the top, leather leggings of the same colour, and durable leather boots. All in the same dark navy colour, helping my ability to blend in with the shadows.
I pack my spare set of clothes then sheath my sword and sling my bow round my back. My sword is heavy enough, and strong enough to be a two-handed sword the race of men use, however it's elven made, and I can wield it easily with but one hand. Lastly, I take my long black hooded cloak and fasten it around me, and leave the tree, knowing I may not be called back here.
The storm's unnatural, I can feel it in the water. Something dark, and powerful has brought it here. I must find the source of the power. I leave the forest swiftly and get to the forsaken inn.
"What will it be Nenuial?" Anlaf, The tavern keep asks me.
"Nothing today Anlaf. I thought I'd warn you, a storm's coming, and a nasty one." I say in a low voice. Anlaf's eyes widen, but then he nods subtly and turns away. After a brief second he turns back to me with a scrap of parchment.
"This will get you a horse without people asking questions. I'll see you around, hopefully." He mutters. I reveal the smallest of smiles to him.
"Hopefully indeed Anlaf." I reply, and head out the door receiving a few nasty looks from the drunken ruffians.
Moments after I'm on a bay steed, galloping at full speed towards Bree-town. It looks like the storm's final destination is just beyond Bree, so that is where I must go. I clutch the reins reassuringly, and gallop soundly down the deserted road. My mind wanders to my original thoughts and suspicions. Is this him? The darkness arising, polluting the rain can only come from a source with a power as such. I guess I must let the events unfold, and hope the new darkness doesn't stay in the shadows for too long.
I'm nearing Bree now, and darkness will fall in a few minutes. I hear a rustling noise coming from behind and I whip my head around and my eyes widen, and my heart rate fastens. Two of the nine Nazgul bear down upon me, swords drawn, ready for combat. Snarling at them, I draw my sword in a flash and try to speed up, but their black armoured stallions are racing towards me. Their attacks will come soon, and I grip my sword with determination. They will not be merciful. They will not hesitate to strike me down. So I will not. I whisper words of encouragement to the horse, and ready myself as they close the few metre gap between us.
One swings at me immediately, and I swiftly jump off the horse and let the blade pass underneath me before I land back on and parry the blow coming from the other rider. I slide my blade up towards the rider and I strike its forearm, causing it to back away a few metres. My heart rate is rising and I look the other way. The other rider now swings again and I hastily duck, but the blade catches my shoulder.
I grimace but quickly recover, spinning on the horse to aim a blow at the riders abdomen, yet it dodges easily as I expected and I avert my sword to cut upwards and force the rider backwards. I skill-fully steer the horse away from them, into the trees. I cannot beat them in a fight on horseback. I think to myself, as I help the horse jump over a fallen tree and gallop onwards.
The sun has downed now, and I act on instinct. There is only one thing they are afraid of that I can call on now. I retrieve the fire starter from my bag as my horse gallops on the straight, and manage to catch myself a thick-ish branch from a nearby tree, though giving me a shallow scratch from the smaller, spikier twigs. I light the end of it, willing it to start as I blow on it whilst steering the horse in and out of the trees. I catch sight of a large patch of dried grass far ahead of me, and I let the branch of wood flame. I hear the swipe of a blade and feel it scratch against my thigh, leaving a shallow cut compared to the one on my shoulder. I urge the horse faster and the dried grass comes into view. I reach down from the horse and drag the flame across the grass, letting the whole thing catch fire. The rider's horses rear up and I hear the Nazgul screech and I turn the horse abruptly and gallop off as hastily as I can muster. My adredaline disappears and I feel the impact of ,my shoulder cut, and hold the wound closer to me. My eyes take in the scarlet staining the skin on my hands, but I turn onwards and continue my journey.
It must be him. I've galloped around Bree, and have dismounted just north, to set the horse free. I unstrap my pack and watch the bay steed trot off into the wilderness, and I begin to climb a tree. Once perched comfortably on but the highest branch, I take out the cold deer meat I packed, and have it as a well needed snack. These riders can only mean trouble. I heard of Mithrandir travelling to the Shire from the Forsaken inn, to visit an old friend. Though Gandalf has many old friends, I can only think of the Master Baggins, who I remember passing through Rivendell with the company of Dwarf-King Thorin, to reclaim Erebor.
Hopefully, Gandalf's presence here will help defend Bree-town and the various villages of men and Hobbits, free of the Nazgul, and any other forces from Sauron. After a moment in the darkness, I start jumping from tree to tree, not dropping in altitude, towards Bree.
My injuries that I sustained from earlier pull me down however, so I silently get some water from my pack. After checking for any life, I feel the energy flow around me, as I let the water flow out, onto my skin, bending it onto my shoulder wound. I concentrate the energy, and a glow starts to come from the wound, and I feel a soothing feeling on the deep cut. I rid the water of blood and return every drop back, after healing both wounds as best I can.
I pull my hood over me, and continue towards Bree. I can now see the smoke spiralling upwards from the chimneys of the houses, and I search for any abnormalities.
"Azthryth!"
I hear a voice pulse through me from inside, and my eyes instantly train themselves towards Bree. My sight zooms in and I see the swaying sign of the Prancing Pony, and inside, four hobbits entering the inn, asking for Mithrandir.
"I need you…" The voice rings through me once more, and I don't need to hesitate before quickening my pace, my eyes set on the town of men. My Brother's calling me.