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~~**II**~~

The Outstretched Shadow

The early morning air was crisp and clean, with a chill even in the late summer. Elaniel could see her breath fog as she breathed in and out, making sure it remained even. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, bathing the world in a cold yellow as she ran around the stone citadel of her home. It was commonplace for the soldiers, even a few of court, to be running at the break of dawn. It also made good training for the students.

From beside her, Elaniel's cousin, Lindariel, turned to face the runners behind her. "Keep it up!" she called to them.

Groups of young mages, ages ranging from sixteen to twenty-four, fell into step behind them. There were about fifty of them in a large pack behind Elaniel and Lindariel. They kept an even pace and sometimes passed others who decided to take a run around the citadel.

Elaniel's home was located in the northern part of Arnor. It had stood there since the beginning of the Third Age. It had been a gift from Elendil, given to the mages by his son Isildur in light of Elendil's death. The mages had fought alongside the Last Alliance against the Dark Lord Sauron. Elendil recognized them as allies and gifted them lands in honor and respect. The name of their home was Naurgail, meaning Fire-Star. The name came from the power of the mages, which identified as fire, and their ancestor, Elaranel, whom they liked to refer to as their North Star. Their citadel in which they ran around was named Gilmir.

The group rounded the citadel the fourth time but they came to a stop as some of the young students stopped from their run to see someone on horseback headed in the gate of the citadel.

Lindariel stopped with Elaniel right beside her. "No stopping!"

"But Captain, it's Gandalf!" one of the younger students cried.

It was Gandalf. Elaniel could see the familiar pointed hat of her guardian. He rode up to the gates and was off his horse just as it came to a stop. One of the students immediately went for the horse's reins.

"What is it, Gandalf?" Elaniel asked as she approached him.

"I need to speak with you and the Masters," Gandalf told her.

Beside her, Lindariel nodded. She turned to the students, "You're dismissed. Take the horse to the stables and get your breakfast."

Some of the students gave light cheers and they raced off toward the barracks. Though some of them were more inclined to make their way slowly. The three of them entered into the citadel and Lindariel gave an order for a council session to be made for the Masters by request of Gandalf.

Elaniel and Lindariel had just enough time to freshen up a bit before the council was gathered. As Captain of the Guard, Lindarial was often present at Councils.

The mages had been given a kingdom, though it was completely up to them on how it was run. They quickly agreed that a monarchy wasn't the best fit for them. They hadn't used the sort in the past when they were but a collective people, so they selected certain individuals who were the wisest and most respectable to be the leaders of the people. They were titled as Master Magicians. This tradition was held as they became a kingdom of people.

There were always four Master Magicians. Currently, there was three women and one man holding those positions.

The first and eldest was Master Antana. Her formerly red hair was nearly all white but her brown eyes were still sharp like a hawk's. She had a hard, stern air about her. Most of the students in the citadel were intimidated by her. Master Antana wasn't mean or rude. Actually, at times when she was expected to snap, she could be the figure of calm. In her youth, that had startled Elaniel greatly. Master Antana had recently selected a successor who would replace her within the next year. Rhys was now titled her apprentice and stood at her side to observe the duties he would soon assume.

Next was the only male, Master Arthon. He was the most studious of the four and the complete opposite of Master Antana. He was more approachable and was willing to pause with what he was doing to assist someone whether it was a serious issue or a young student with a simple question. He made one of the better tutors than most at the citadel and spent most of his time teaching.

After him was Master Idain. She'd come into the position about forty years ago and somewhat out of tradition. She hadn't been like Rhys, who apprenticed under a Master for five years before taking the position. Her predecessor had been killed before he chose a successor and the remaining three Masters had chosen her. She fit into the role well and honorably.

Finally there was Master Verya. She was a decade older than Elaniel and Lindariel and came into the position only nine years ago. Despite being considerably younger and less experienced than the other three Masters, her opinion was no less regarded than theirs. It took a lot of wisdom and dedication to be a Master and leading took a combined effort of the four Masters. There were times when they could settle issues individually, but efforts such as war were often decided among the four of them together. It seemed that this was to be such an effort.

When they all gathered, Gandalf told him that he had knowledge that the One Ring has been found.

It all came together for Elaniel. All those months ago when Gandalf left so suddenly from the Shire. Something had bothered him, but he wasn't entirely sure what it had been. Bilbo's little party trick was done by the magic ring he'd found in Gollum's Cave all those years ago. It was in fact, the One Ring. How had Bilbo managed to hold such a thing for so long right under Gandalf's nose?

"But it was lost ages ago," Master Idain argued.

"Until it was found," Gandalf told her. "I assure you I just returned with undoubted proof that this is the One Ring."

"What do you suppose we do?" Master Arthon asked. "I doubt we were the first to be told of this knowledge."

"No," Gandalf answered. "I have notified Lord Elrond of its finding. But he is only the first as I soon ride for Isengard. Then my task will be to bring the Ring-Bearer to Rivendell."

"Who is this Ring-Bearer?" Master Antana inquired.

Gandalf shook his head lightly. "It is not lack of trust that I won't give you their identity. The fewer who know the details the better. But know that they are someone I trust explicitly."

Elaniel knew their identity. Frodo. Is he safe now? She schooled her expression into neutrality.

Master Antana nodded curtly. "I trust your judgement, Mithrandir. So the fates will be decided in Rivendell."

"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "Elrond will be calling for the council as soon as the Ring arrives in Rivendell."

"Are we going to have representatives there as well?" Master Verya inquired.

"As one of the Free Peoples, Lord Elrond will want one of yours a part of this," Gandalf answered.

"The Free Peoples? All of them?" Lindariel muttered. "They will not take kindly to any of us." She was right. There was bound to be conflict in the Homely House if the others were to spot mages among them. Even though Elrond welcomed the mages into his home, the others will not like it at all.

"They will have to swallow their judgments for the time being," Master Antana stated sharply. "Whether they like it or not, this concerns us all." Her tone softened a small amount. "But Lord Elrond will welcome us in his house. Under his good graces, we will have our voice at the very least."

"Who will it be to represent us?" Master Idain announced.

"Well," Gandalf began. "I am in need of Elaniel's assistance in escorting the Ring-Bearer to Rivendell. She is known to them. She is also most known to Elrond's house, and I think it would be best for only a sole mage to be among the council."

The Masters all agreed on this. They did not question Gandalf further about the Ring-Bearer's identity or how Elaniel could know them. They held deep respect for the wizard, and with such sensitive news, it was best that little was known.

~~*.*~~

Council was closed and Gandalf had Elaniel follow him where they could speak more privately. They went to her rooms in the south tower. Gilmir's citadel had four towers where the Masters resided. The very top rooms were for the Masters themselves, while there were rooms in the lower halls for the members of court.

Elaniel stoked the hearth fire a bit higher when they entered. "So this is what bothered you so greatly back in the Shire?"

Gandalf had sunk into a chair of her sitting room. "Yes. I have just come back from Bag End to discover whether Bilbo's magic ring was in fact the One Ring. I hoped it wasn't...but it is indeed."

Elaniel sank into the chair opposite him. "So Frodo now holds the Ring of Power. You are to escort him to Rivendell?"

Gandalf nodded. "He will leave before his coming birthday. Sam will be accompanying him to Bree. I will meet them there after I meet with Saruman. You will meet us at Weathertop."

Elaniel nodded. After the last time she was in Bree, she wasn't going back there. She didn't tell Gandalf about what happened last year, but it hardly mattered. She wasn't welcomed in Bree and Gandalf knew it. She didn't accompany him when they borrowed the cart to haul the fireworks to Hobbiton.

"In Bree, we'll be gaining another travel companion," Gandalf continued. "He's known by Strider. He's of the Northern Rangers."

Elaniel nodded. She'd met a couple rangers in her travels. It had been so long since the Dúnedain of the North had actually mingled with the mages. Sharing the same lands, they were one of the few who didn't hate the mages. Though they'd become more like the hobbits and left the mages be if they were to cross paths.

"I'll send a message to you when I leave Isengard," Gandalf said as he rose to his feet. By message, Elaniel knew that it would be from a winged messenger.

Elaniel escorted Gandalf to the stables where his horse was already patted down and its tack replaced. The wizard mounted the horse with some resignation. Elaniel reached up and gently clasped his hand. "You'll be fine," Elaniel told him, more for plain encouragement than anything. It was what she sometimes did when it seemed that the wizard was pondering too much. Gandalf gave her a smile and rode off.

Elaniel ambled through the upper halls of the citadel. It had been hours since Gandalf left and she couldn't get his words off her mind. The One Ring had been lost for nearly three thousand years, and now it was found. Sauron was a terror of old who still managed to hold something somehow over this world even in the relative peace of the last couple hundred years. Yet, at the same time, it was almost a sort of hope. Elaniel had seen the evil of Mordor from its doorstep. While the Enemy was diminished, he wasn't gone. Perhaps this could be his undoing, but that was a great risk, for it could bring him back into power as well.

So...a harbinger of hope or a black nightmare?

She stopped in the middle of the hall. She was coming near the north tower in a place that was relatively quite. Elaniel stood in front of five statues of her people's five great ancestors. Elaranel's daughters. They had been made in likeness of the five daughters of the Maia for the beginnings of Naurgail. Several dozens of works already had something of their likeness since the five of them had been dead and ashes long before the statues were made. It also helped that there were elves who remembered the distinct features of the five maidens.

In order, the daughters of Elaranel were Amira, Norien, Ruineth, Melenil, and Súlwen. Amira had been the most like Elaranel concerning magic. Norien and Ruineth were the warrior maidens. Melenil was the most learned one and Súlwen was more like their mortal father in having a kinship with animals, namely birds.

It had been in honor of the five sisters that the Masters had come into being. The first Masters had been direct descendants of the eldest sisters. Though direct lineage didn't take in much account after that. Especially now as most in Naurgail could probably trace some blood to each of the four sisters. Súlwen's line didn't descend in such a way though.

The statues didn't show it, but four of the sisters had red hair much like Elaranel. Melenil had been the only one to inherit their mortal father's golden locks. Even now, most of Naurgail's people had the red hair of their ancestor, from the lightest of oranges to a deep crimson. Though some of them still had golden hair, like Lindariel, and Elaniel's other cousin Breo had dark brown hair. Red was still the most commonplace among the people.

For many outsiders, it was usually the red hair that easily identified the mages, but that was just the easiest way. Lindariel and Breo had faced jeers from others as well, so it wasn't simply hair color that defined them. There was also something about the air of a mage that set them apart from other men. They stood taller in a way and there was something fierce and different about them, whether it be a good or bad thing depended on who was looking. Frodo had thought there was something almost ethereal in Elaniel's air, but others had seen something dangerous.

So Elaniel was to stand in a council among the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth. Elves and Dwarves from distant lands. Men from Gondor and Rohan and Dale. She let out a sigh. That was not going to be pleasant.

"Does it bother you greatly?"

Elaniel turned to see Lindariel making her way toward her in the hall.

"It's just as you said," Elaniel answered. "They will not take kindly to us."

Lindariel shrugged. "Perhaps they will swallow their judgments for the time being. You will be a guest of Lord Elrond."

"That's hardly going to matter," Elaniel muttered.

"You've given your allegiance to Men before," Lindariel added. "You could do it again."

Elaniel sighed. "Well, the last time I gave my loyalty to Men, I've spent every year since in regret of how things could ever be different for us."

Yes, Elaniel had once fought for the world of Men. She'd given her loyalty and shed her blood for it. She'd given her heart, only for it to be returned to her...cloven in two.

Lindariel put a hand to her shoulder. "Perhaps now will open change for our people."

As much as Elaniel wanted to, she told herself not to hold out on hope for that. The hate had run so deep for so long that it may be impossible for the mages of Naurgail to ever become a respected people. Elaniel had traveled outside Naurgail's borders and out of the realm of Arnor. She saw the world and took in just how it saw her. Lindariel's words were a fool's hope.

Gandalf's message never came. He wouldn't have stayed in Isengard for so long. Frodo was to leave for Bree two weeks before his birthday, which was a week ago. That concerned Elaniel. Did something happen to the wizard? What would become of Frodo and Sam if Gandalf didn't meet them in Bree? Gandalf told of a ranger accompanying them from Bree, but the hobbits wouldn't know him. Elaniel wouldn't know him.

She was still going to meet them at Weathertop. She went to the stables and saddled her dapple-grey mare, Eviera. The Masters also worried over Gandalf's lack of message, but they didn't argue over Elaniel's insistence to leave. If anything, she could continue on to Rivendell.

Gandalf didn't want her to travel on horse when she met up with them, but things weren't going as planned right now. It would take five days for her to reach Weathertop on horseback if she was fast, and if Frodo was on foot, it would take a while for him to get there. Elaniel would have the luxury to idle. She wasn't going to try her luck and find him on the road because she knew Gandalf would be against using them and combing through the wilds would be fruitless.

It was eight days passed when Elaniel reached the bottom of the Weather Hills. It had rained during the two days previous and she only now shook off her sodden cloak.

Coming to Weathertop, she left her mare at the foot and trekked up to the top. Several markings of camp fires were scattered around the top of the Watchtower, but even the most recent was three weeks old. There was no evidence that anyone had passed here recently, even as she searched through the more hidden indents where travelers could hide from the rain. Nothing. They hadn't passed by here yet.

The month came into October and while Elaniel knew there would be a pervading chill in the air, a deep shiver ran down her spine. There was something evil roaming these lands and it wasn't until that night she discovered what it was. Nazgûl. It seemed they were already after Frodo.

Elaniel had nearly crossed their paths three times. The first, Elaniel had hidden her and her mare within the thick brush as one of them passed by not three yards from her. The Wraiths did not see her, for she was not who they were looking for, but she didn't dare light any fires and make her presence known. She made to scout the area in look out for Frodo. The Wraiths weren't in the immediate area, but the chill in her spine told Elaniel that they had not passed on.

For three days, Elaniel stayed in the area. During the last two days the chill of the Wraiths had lessened, though it had still not dissipated. They were searching, and the Ring must be on its way if they had not left yet. All the time, Elaniel felt a tension enter her; tightening her shoulders and back. She had to remind herself to ease her clamped fists and jaw. The Wraiths were now hunters lying in wait, while she knew she wasn't the prey she knew who was, and it set her on a very narrow edge.

The mornings and afternoons lay quiet, but as the sky grew dark the clawing chill pervaded. It was then that Elaniel knew they were roaming in wait. This night was different, there was an excitement almost.

He's here! Elaniel thought, her heart racing.

She was a ways away from the Weathertop, so she spurred her mare on, retracing back east. Eviera seemed to understand her mistress's desperation and kicked up her pace quickly. Dire as the situation was, Elaniel did not spare any thought or glance to anything other than the watchtower and raced toward the Watchtower. She leaped off Eviera just as the mare came to a stop and ran up the stone stair, her blades already in hand. Upon reaching the top, she found five black, cloaked figures standing in a slight formation toward a crumbling pillar and as she came ready for battle, it broke.

She feared the worst when one of the Wraiths stabbed at the ground in front of it, but she had no time to think as she jumped in front of the Wraiths and slashed her swords out at them. Honing her magic, she shot it into her swords and the blades gained a sharp edge of fire around them. The Wraiths had no love of fire and that would help her greatly against five of them on her own.

The Wraith's fear of fire didn't keep them from attacking as they went at her. She kept them at bay the best she could with her flaming blades and stabbed at them when she had the chance. One of their robes caught fire and sent it into a retreat.

A scream came from behind her that was not of the Wraiths, but Elaniel did not listen to it as there were still two of them to deal with. She struck at the Wraith nearest her, jabbing blow after blow while it parried and just as she was about to strike it with her flames, it hopped of the tower and into the night.

Elaniel turned and saw the last Wraith as it neared the hobbits. Charging her magic, she swung one of her blades in a vertical arc that shot toward the remaining Wraith. It screeched, fire burning over its robes and it fell back to its brethren.

There was another figure upon the Watchtower that Elaniel hadn't taken notice of. Without hesitation, she swung at the intruder, but he wasn't one of the Wraiths. He was a man, a ranger by the look of his clothing and rugged face.

"I wish you no harm," the man said. "I am a friend to Gandalf the Grey."

"Strider?" Elaniel asked. The man nodded.

Just as they settled that, Sam called for him. The two of them made their way over to Frodo and Sam. Elaniel was so focused on her friend that she didn't notice the two stragglers.

They did for her. "Ella!" She turned sharply at the voices that sounded both surprised and pleased at the same time. Merry and Pippin were here as well. Gandalf never said anything about the two of them coming.

She gripped Merry's shoulder. "What are you two doing here?" she snapped. It wasn't that she was unhappy to see them, but what were they doing out here in the wild? They could get hurt, and them being two little troublemakers didn't help matters at all.

"We were helping Frodo and Sam reach Bree," Merry answered evenly. "Strider led us from there."

Frodo let out a pained moan which had all their attention fixed on him now.

"Help him!" Sam cried.

Strider picked up a fallen dagger that laid beside Frodo. "He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." Just as he said the words, the blade turned to dust, leaving nothing but the handle.

Elaniel's blood went cold. A Morgul blade. Oh Frodo, no. Her heart broke at the fate that had been dealt upon him. She looked to Frodo, whose eyes lolled back in pain; she inched toward him and placed a hand upon his cheek. It was clammy and cold…and would only get colder. His bright blue eyes were now dull and stared into nothing. They could do nothing to tend to him now.

"This is beyond any skill of ours to heal," Strider said. "He needs Elvish medicine." He gathered the hobbit into his arms and they made their way off the Watchtower.

"I have a horse," Elaniel said as she followed him. "A few of the Wraiths have been subdued for now and I can get Frodo to Rivendell in less than two days."

"I will take him. Stay with the hobbits," Strider told her.

"As a mage, I have better means of protecting myself from them than you," Elaniel told him. "I handled five of them well enough on my own."

"But will you have the nerve to outride nine of them at once?" Strider said as he turned to face her. He wasn't trying to slight her with his words. He didn't doubt her strength or loyalty, only her willing heart. The Wraiths had the unnerving power to put fear and doubt into the hearts of even the bravest of men. Elaniel had felt their evil for the last few days.

That fear didn't strike her as she defended her friend the first time. She would face anything for someone she loved and right now Frodo was fading. She was not going to let that happen. "I will do whatever it takes to bring my friend to safety," she told him.

The resolve in her tone and expression seemed to have swayed him as they made their way to Eviera. Strider placed Frodo in front of the saddle and Elaniel climbed up behind him. The other three hobbits were wary to see them leave.

"Are you sure you'll be fine alone, Miss Ella?" Sam asked.

She nodded. "Frodo needs Elvish medicine and protection as swiftly as possible. The Wraiths should have fallen back by now so I have a few hours before dawn. They have no love of daylight and I should be fine under the sun."

"Be careful!" Pippin cried as Elaniel urged her horse onward into the night.

Eviera rode hard throughout the night and well into the morning. There was no move from the Nazgûl behind her. Though she told the hobbits that the Wraiths had no love of daylight, she doubted that they would let the Ring slip from their grasp so easily. She kept her view ahead of her and never faltered it, even as she heard Frodo let out painful moans in front of her. She tried not to jostle him much by keeping him pressed against her front, but while on a horse, bumping around was near impossible to avoid. Frodo took the pain in stride, even inquired on their progress, which elated Elaniel's mood if only a little.

It seemed luck held out for her all through the day as they rode with no incident. Catching half of the Wraiths on fire must have weakened them and the rest of the night mustn't have been long enough for them to recover. That, or being in the sunlight would have only made matters worse. Since not even the remaining four had begun the chase, it seemed Elaniel's quick leave of Weathertop might have thrown them off the trail enough for a head start.

Elaniel didn't want to overdo her fortune now. They could come searching as the night fell and Eviera had been riding all day. If she could reach the Trollshaws, she might be able to hide from them in the thick forests.

Night fell as she reached the forest and she had Eviera weaving through the trees. They were lucky to have none on their trail today, but they were still half a day from Rivendell. For now, she had to lay low with Frodo until morning.

She made her way to an old cave. It was a former troll hoard that still had some gold left in it. Bilbo had told her of it when Thorin's company had stumbled upon it after their run in with the three trolls. Elaniel even passed by the three stone statues as they made their way.

"Look Frodo," Elaniel said as she slowed her horse down. "It's Bilbo's Trolls."

In front of her, Frodo looked at the three frozen trolls and actually chuckled. "Is the cave nearby?" he asked.

"We're headed there right now," Elaniel told him as she led Eviera inside.

The cave still smelled horrid even though no troll had stepped foot in it for sixty years. Elaniel set Frodo down and gave him some of her bread and cheese to nibble on. He was sickeningly pale and cold, but he ate and still talked a bit, which was more than Elaniel could ask for.

She patted down Eviera the best she could. The mare huffed slightly at all the miles she'd had to run. But now they had some time to rest, though Elaniel still kept the saddle on. They needed to be ready to leave at any moment. She couldn't count on luck that the Wraiths would let down the hunt as they recovered.

Elaniel went over to Frodo and pulled him into her arms. She sat with her back rested against the cave wall and Frodo huddled in her lap. She moved her cloak so that it covered both of them. "I can't risk a fire tonight, Frodo. I am sorry," she told him.

"It's alright, Ella," Frodo told her. "But where's Gandalf? Do you know where he is?"

"No," Elaniel answered. "He must have been delayed." She had no idea where Gandalf could be and she didn't like that he wasn't here. "Get some sleep Frodo. I'll keep an ear out for both of us."

Frodo was still in a lot of pain, though. He tried dozing off, but then the ache of his shoulder would pulse again.

Elaniel dug into one of the pouches on her belt. There were dozens of dried fire flower petals inside. "Put these under your tongue." She handed him two petals and he did as asked. They should help ease the pain enough for him to doze of at the least.

Ten minutes passed and Frodo was able to calm down enough to doze with his head on Elaniel's shoulder. She didn't like the way his breath chilled against her neck. He was fading still, but he had strength in him. He was coherent and able to speak and he ate some food at least. Elaniel didn't fear that she would lose him in his sleep. His body needed the rest. It would probably do him more harm to keep him awake all night.

Elaniel was tense the entire night as she listened for the shrieks of the Wraiths. Since they all were bound to follow her, at least the others were safe. That gave her no small amount of comfort. She needed to pass over the Ford Bruinen. Once there, she would be safe as well as Frodo. He would hold out that long. Hobbits were hardy folk.

Frodo was only able to rest for a short while as the pain woke him again and he erupted into shivers. Elaniel gave him the rest of her food and lifted him onto Eviera. It was just before dawn, but she couldn't wait anymore. They tarried enough as is. Luck was on her side during the night, but it wouldn't last. Elaniel was sure of it.

Eviera galloped through the trees. She didn't want to leave the thick forest. Going into the open plains wasn't going to help cover her if the Wraiths decided to continue the hunt during the day.

It was high noon when the screech of the Wraiths was heard. Her blood gone cold, Elaniel cried for Eviera to pick up speed, to which the mare gave a great burst. Even though she half-expected it, their presence still surprised her. The Nine were not known to roam in the waking hours, but this was for the Ring. For the first time in thousands of years they could potentially radiate their power from out of the shadows and they were not about to lose that opportunity, even if it meant treading in the unfavorable sunlight. They were leaving the borders of the Trollshaws, the trees were dwindling now and they weren't going to have much cover.

They had been traveling on open plains as the cry was heard, but Elaniel quickly steered Eviera into the nearby trees, hoping to outmaneuver the Wraiths. Just before she made to the trees, she heard the pounding of hooves close in on her. Black shaded the corners of her vision and just before a black hand could claw at her, the trees took her surroundings. Eviera seemed to know just how dire their situation was and made to weave through the trees, never stopping even as their predators seemed to close in around her. She was a mighty steed and had a mind and will all her own. This worked well with Elaniel, trusting her horse while she took all that was in her to keep herself on the horse's back and Frodo away from the enemy's grip.

Once out of the cover of trees, the Wraiths came at her in an even greater fury and Eviera could not outrun the overhauled steeds the Nine rose upon. They came too close for Elaniel's comfort. Keeping a hand on the reins as well as the same arm holding Frodo against her, Elaniel gathered fire into her hand and shot it out toward the Wraith at her side. It's robes didn't catch fire this time, but it fell back. Managing to hold Frodo and stay on her horse, Elaniel shot fire toward her pursuers until they all fell just behind her. But they were still so close.

They'd been riding hard for over half a day, covering tremendous miles and Elaniel guessed - hoped - that they were very near the Ford of Bruinen. Just how much, she could not tell or spare to think of as the chase continued, but once the Ford would come into the distance, the water would bar the Nazgûl. Unless they were desperate enough to cross over water, which was doubtful.

Elaniel leaned over Eviera, Frodo pressed tightly against her, nearly covered from the view of the Wraiths, but still they clawed at him. One got mere inches from the little hobbit, to which Elaniel answered with a cry out to her mare.

After what seemed like hours, but could not be more than minutes, the running water of the Ford finally came into view and Eviera made one last push until her hooves met the shallow stream. The powerful mare slowed to a stop and turned to give her rider a full view of the predators they had finally escaped. The Nine reared their horses to a violent stop at the edge of the gurgling water, screeching their fury.

"Give up the Halfling, mage!" she heard them hiss.

She noticed one of the Nine seemed to set themselves apart from the other eight. His robes were black like the rest, but they seemed to exude something else…like blood. Dark magic. That was when Elaniel recognized him as The Undying. The mighty, yet terrifying mage of old. His real name was long forgotten, but she could tell it was him. The realization made her blood curdle. All her people knew the man who had first created blood magic; the first of their race that had fallen.

"You think you have the strength to might over evil?" She could hear his hissing as if he whispered right in her ear. Shivers raced down her spine. "You will fall to darkness. You were born to darkness!" The Nine began to enter the river, causing breath to leave her lungs and she nearly lost her grip on herself when in front of her, Frodo was gained the strength to unsheathe the small sword from his hip and brandish it at their foes.

"By Elbereth and Luthien the Fair," he cried, holding his blade high over his head, a strength that surprised Elaniel herself. "You shall have neither the Ring nor me!"

As his words cried from his mouth, a great roaring came from the upper Ford. All riders looked upriver to see great waves racing toward them. In its image were many horses in full gallop thundering toward them, swerving around the curves of the river and directly onto the Wraiths, completely missing Eviera. The Nine screeched as they were swept up in the powerful wave and washed away.

At last, Elaniel could feel herself breath easily.

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