Seven long months she had been at this post, and had her brother known how she had turned her punishment around she probably would have been gone sooner. Daeril had guarded the Northern border of the Shire for seven summers, until she and two other rangers stupidly involved themselves in a fight one night in the village of Bree. Now Sarn Ford, the least favored of all posts, was her duty station.

"We should get back to camp, they're going to start to wonder where we are."

"We should probably gather that firewood," She stated, kissing Faron one last time before getting to her feet. She shook the dirt and sticks out of her cloak and smoothed her hair as best she could.

The two young rangers had become fast friends since the day Daeril came to Sarn Ford, and long nights standing watch together had eventually led to forays into the woods when they could escape the eyes of their fellow rangers. The moment anyone found out about them, at least one of them would be sent to another post.

"Why are you staring, get to work!" Daeril laughed, her left arm half full of firewood while Faron still had but a few sticks.

"I am working. Working out how I'm going to get you to marry me."

This wasn't the first time he had suggested they marry, and Daeril was growing tired of having to turn him down.

"And if I married you, what would I do? Go live with the women and children in the Angle? Raise sheep?"

"Or children."

"They would grow up to be gamblers and thieves."

"True, but at least they would look like me. Handsome is as handsome does."

She threw a stick at his grinning face, hitting him square on the nose.

"I belong out here and you know it, Faron."

"I know," He sighed.

The two trudged back to camp, throwing the fresh wood down on the already large kindling pile. They separated to different ends of the camp to avoid suspicion, Daeril going to speak with the watch commander, Thannor. The circles under his eyes were the only indication that the long watches they were all taking was taking any effect on him. He had been there longer than any other ranger, and had never had as many charges as he currently did. Their chieftain had ordered a larger force at this particular crossing to the Shire, but for what reasoning Thannor did not speak to anyone about.

"You should rest sir," Daeril said, noting him stifling a yawn.

"I'll rest when I'm dead," He grumbled. "Perhaps you should take your own advice, you're on first watch tonight."

Daeril roused at sunset, just as the red was disappearing in the sky. The warm days were giving into cooler nights, but she felt much colder this night than those previous. The camp was quiet save for those finishing their evening meals, but even their conversation was at a minimum. She threw her cloak on, drawing it close to her body to keep out the wind that had started to come in from the East.

"It's quiet out there tonight," Aeldis said as Daeril came to relieve her at the watch post by the road. "It doesn't feel right."

Daeril looked up to Aeldis as a child, and had been thrilled when she discovered she was at Sarn Ford. Aeldis was small, but imposing, her short dark hair flecked with gray but not a single line on her face to betray her age. She had been a ranger in the time of Arathorn, Daeril had learned.

"It's so cold!" Daeril replied, trying her best not to shiver. "Go, sleep! Get warm!"

Aeldis clapped the younger girl on the shoulder as she retired her watch. Faron and Hador joined her. Normally only two people watched the road, so it was concerning that they had one extra.

"Thannor feels we need a bigger watch tonight. Something about the Crebain." Said Faron.

"I haven't seen any."

"We heard them as the sun began to set," Hador replied. "Making quite some noise. Woke me up."

"I sleep like the dead," Daeril laughed. "I do appreciate the company, though."

They spoke in hushed voices, keeping an eye on the darkening road and listening to the sounds in the woods. Daeril never felt afraid here, but something about what Aeldis and Hador said gave her a sense of unease. With the dark came the sound of crowing.

"Crebain!" Faron hissed.

The shadow of dozens of wings flapping from out of the trees permeated the darkness. Something scared them off.

"Daeril, Thannor needs to know of this. Can you go to him?"

Thannor needed his sleep, and she wanted to argue against waking him, but the hint of fear in Hador's voice convinced her otherwise.

"Aye!" She agreed, and ran back to the camp.

Thannor was not resting, but sitting up speaking with Taeron and Ruinor, the watch captains.

"What is it?" He asked.

"The Crebain just took flight, something startled them."

"Just now?"

"Yes."

"Something is out there," Thannor stood, fingering the pommel of the sword at his hip. "Wake the second watch, we need-"

He stopped mid-sentence as a shrill cry came from the road. Neither human nor animal, it sent an icy chill through Daeril's entire body. Soon shouting came from the post she had just left, Faron and Hador running back. Before she could even move to wake the camp, she saw figures come out of the darkness, gaining on the two rangers as they ran. Their robes and horses were all black, and she could not see faces.

"TO ARMS! EVERYONE, TO ARMS!" Thannor shouted, running to face the riders head on.

Daeril drew her bow, the fear pumping through her veins driving her to action. She joined Thannor and her brothers, forming a blockade of rangers. Those who had been sleeping were now awake and scrambling to arms. She aimed an arrow at one of the riders gaining on Faron and Hador, and let it fly. Her aim was true, but the arrow did nothing. The black rider cut Faron down as he ran. There was a moment Daeril thought he would get back up again, that he may be fine. He did not rise.

The sense of fear was overwhelming everyone, yet nobody backed down while they could still stand and fight. Daeril was overwhelmed with terror and anger, but knew her duty was to guard the Ford at all costs. Never had she faced an enemy such as this. Drawing her sword, bow clearly useless, she watched as more of her brothers fell, knowing that any moment could be her last. When the wizard and her chieftain had come earlier in the spring and warned the rangers of a possible invasion, nobody had expected this; ruffians or orcs, maybe, but not the evil they faced now.

"We cannot hold them!" Thannor cried out. "Run! We must warn the chieftain!"

He turned to Daeril, grabbing her shoulder in a stern grip.

"Go, now. Make for Bree. Find Aragorn!"

She nodded, not wanting to abandon her men, but knowing that someone had to carry the message. Already some were fleeing down the road and into the woods, and the black riders began to follow. Four had broken through, and were crossing into the Shire. All was lost. She ran for the road, passing injured on the ground and some more or less dead. She could not stop to say a final farewell to Faron, who lie slain with a sword wound through the chest.

She could not outrun the horse that followed behind her. The hoofbeats gained closer and closer, and four legs caught up to two in moments. All she could do was duck down, and hope that her head would not leave her neck. The blow sent her sprawling, as the blade glanced the back of her skull. Her vision went white for a long moment, but she did not lose consciousness. A hoof landed on her upper arm, accompanied by a sickening crack. She bared down, using all energy she had in the moment to not cry out. The rider galloped away, and she seized her moment to escape.

Sarn Ford was lost, the rangers dead or driven away. Faron, whom Daeril loved more than she cared to admit, was slain. She entered the woods along the road, the trees the only defense from the enemy on horseback. She ran through the night, stumbling as her energy diminished and the pain of her wounds took over. The arm was useless, tucked into the straps of her quiver as a makeshift sling. Her head throbbed and every footfall sent shockwaves of pain through her. The unearthly shrieks of the riders permeated the night air, but grew further and further away. She did not stop until morning's light, when she could go no further, and collapsed at the roots of a large oak.

She slept fitfully, her dreams dark and all too real. Faron's face, stone cold and eyes staring forward unseeing, plagued her every thought. The tears would not come, but the pain was all too consuming. Of the twelve other rangers that she served with, at least six she had witnessed fall. She was not the only one fleeing through the wilderness, but where the others were she could not know. Forcing her ailing body to stand, she set off again. Bree was about thirty leagues, and a few days ride if one stopped to rest. She could not spare the time to stop anymore if she wanted to reach Aragorn in time, but the injuries slowed her down.

Through day and night she moved through the wilderness, glimpsing the Greenway every now and then but never daring to use the road lest she be found by the riders. The third night she heard the shrieking, but it was far from her. She prayed none of the others were found. On the fifth day, feverish and famished, she reached the south gate of Bree. It was midmorning, and the gate was open for the day. The gate guard gave her a once over, but let her pass unchallenged.

She knew Bree like the back of her hand, having gone there many times with some of her fellow rangers when they could spare the time. The last time she had been, she had almost ended up in the jail, if her brother had not intervened. She made for The Prancing Pony, knowing the owner was the most ranger-friendly of all the inns of Bree. The streets were starting to get busy with townsfolk going about their business, and she received many apprehensive looks. Assuming it was her cloaked face that made people uncomfortable, she lowered her hood. The cool morning air was unpleasant on her wounded scalp.

Mr. Butterbur was behind the bar, already serving some of the drunker citizens of Bree. She approached, the normally appetizing scent of ale making her feel ill. Butterbur took one look at her and visibly cringed, but was immediately back to pleasant.

"You look like you could use a room, miss." He stated, putting down the glass he was wiping.

"Possibly. I'm looking for someone."

His face was grave.

"You're not looking for a 'Baggins', are you? We've had some strange folk in town looking for him, just last night in fact."

"I don't know of any 'Baggins'. Who was looking for them?"

"Riders, all in black. Black horses."

Her heart sank. If they were already here, and Aragorn was here…

"I'm looking for a ranger. Strider, you may know him as."

"Ah, Strider. I know the one. Haven't seen him in months."

She did not know whether to be relieved or worried.

"Have any more of my kind come here recently?"

"Not here at the Inn, but I heard rumors of some rangers chased out of town last night when the riders came. They went east towards Staddle, you could check there."

"Thank you, sir." She said, making to leave. "If he should show up here, could you let him know I came?"

"I can do that. Should I give a name?"

"He will know," She said. There were only two women at the Ford, and the age gap was drastic. He would know. "Tell him the Ford is lost."

She reluctantly left the safety of the inn and made for Staddle. It was not far, but she was exhausted and growing sicker by the hour. Staddle was mainly populated by hobbits, and Daeril felt her heart grow lighter as she took in the peaceful town. She had only seen hobbit holes from a distance, while patrolling the northern Shire near Buckland, and loved to look at them. She knew she could not fit in one without hitting her head on the ceilings. Too weakened to waste any time searching for her fellow rangers, she found the nearest town guard- this one a man of Bree.

"What do you need, miss?"

"I'm looking for some rangers that passed through here. Have you seen them?"

"I haven't, but I heard that two left through here last night. They took the East Road."

She took off with a quick word of thanks, heading through the bustling town, and through the gate towards the East Road. If her people were out there, they would be among the trees, not on the road. She took to the wilderness once more.