The moment Gilrael passed underneath the arches leading into the gardens of Rivendell, she knew, by the fact that she was still seated in her horse, that it was a very dark day.

Legolas nodded. "They must be scouting."

"Gilrael, thank Eru!" someone cried. The elves turned to the direction of the voice, and found Lord Elrond hurrying to them. Dark days, indeed, for the Lord of Rivendell to be rushing towards them in such a manner.

"I hate to send you off after you have just arrived, but I need you to head north immediately."

Gilrael frowned. "My lord?"

"As you may or may not know, the Nine have been sent from Mordor."

"The Nine?!"

Elrond nodded gravely. "And they are here, in the West, on a mission to secure the One."

"So you want me to go find them?"

"Yes. There are few that can ride openly against the Ringwraiths, but what few there are, they have been sent. Glorfindel, my sons, and others. Only one left is you."

Gilrael pursed her lips. "Very well. Where do you want me to go?"

Elrond unrolled a map. "The others have been sent here, west, south, and east. I have left north for you."

"Any particular reason?"

The Lord of Rivendell looked grave. "You are well aware that those lands are wild, unorderly, with abandoned fortresses and burnt villages."

Gilrael nodded.

"You are the one most suited to such lands. You are used to them. You can travel swiftly and unnoticed. And you need to go now."

Gilrael pursed her lips. "North. Yes, my lord."

"Look for Aragorn, too."

"Estel?"

Elrond nodded. "He will be leading Frodo here, with the…you know."

Gilrael raised an eyebrow. "Yes, my lord."

She turned to Legolas, and jerked her head back slightly. "Go, make sure they're settled. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that brief farewell, she nodded to the rest of the elves, and took off through the forest.

North? What an absurd idea. Estel would avoid those lands like any sensible Ranger. No, he would be in the west. And the Nazgul would follow.

Gilrael crossed the Bruinen and started galloping towards Bree. She marked the tracks of Asfaloth, Glorfindel's horse, along the East-West road, then broke off into the woods. Frodo…Frodo Baggins. He must have inherited the Ring from his uncle, Bilbo, and was making haste with it and Estel to Rivendell, where it would be temporarily safe.

Luckily (or not) for the once-closest companion of the Dark Lord, she could track the evil power as if it was a magnet pulling her towards it. After a short while, she neared it, and a whispering voice sliced through her head, accompanied with, as usual, searing pain.

"Take it, Gilrael!" he urged her. "They are helpless under you. They will not be able to fight back."

Shut up, Sauron, she ordered him.

"My servants have already stabbed the bearer. You will be able to take it easily."

Never, she declared through grit teeth. Her head throbbed in waves of agony.

"This is your moment, after all those centuries of training. Take it, and the pain will stop. You will be the most powerful-"

"SHUT UP!" Gilrael yelled out loud. Though she was still shaking, the pain slowly stopped. But the shout might have busted her cover.

She galloped into a clearing where, rather to her surprise, she saw three hobbits, all of them tired-looking and fearful.

They gasped in surprise when they saw her, but she ignored them and jumped off Ruinil.

"Where is Estel?" she demanded.

The hobbits stared at her numbly for a moment before the chubby one stuttered, "Y-you mean Strider?"

Gilrael threw her hands up in exasperation. Him and his many names!

"Yes, Strider, whatever. Where is he?"

"L-lookin' for athelas leaves, for Mr. Frodo. He's terribly injured-"

Gilrael whirled around in a circle, and her eyes landed on the pale hobbit, lying senseless on the leaves. Then her head whipped up as she heard Estel exclaim, "Gilrael?!"

He seemed thoroughly surprised to see her, and the clump of the healing herbs lay forgotten in his hand. She pursed her lips. "Mae govannen, mellon-nin."

The hobbits stared at them with wide eyes. "U-um, Strider?"

Estel waved a hand. "Do not fear, Sam. Gilrael is the first person we need here, besides Lord Elrond himself."

He turned to her. "It's a Morgul Blade, Gilrael. I have the hilt."

The elleth widened her eyes. "A Morgul blade? How long ago?"

Estel pursed his lips. "A few hours ago, I suppose."

"A few hours without treatment? He'll die! Or worse!"

The Ranger glanced at the hobbits, who looked doubly anxious then.

"Gilrael, you must speak to me in Sindarin," he urged her. "You will scare them."

She had taken the athelas leaves from him and had mixed it with some healing herbs of her own. Then with some water from her flask, she ground it into the wound.

"Aaah!" Frodo yelled, writhing in pain.

Gilrael glared at the wound and shouted at it in Black Speech.

Estel widened his eyes. "Wouldn't Sindarin be more effective?"

"Shut up, Estel. I know what I'm doing, unlike you." Fortunately, she had said that in Sindarin.

While she was treating Frodo, the hobbits whispered to one other.

"She's an elf, Sam!" Pippin exclaimed as he nudged the hobbit.

"Yes, I know, and not at all what Mr. Bilbo told of her."

"He knew this elf?" Merry asked incredulously.

Sam nodded. "Helped him a bit on his adventure. Seems from his stories that she's quite an important one. Well, I only hope she'll save Mr. Frodo, and help get us safely to Rivendell."

Gilrael stood and conversed quietly with Aragorn. He looked relieved, and glanced towards the bushes. But Sam quickened his breath. It was the sound of hooves. The sound he had grown to loathe.

Gilrael and Estel glanced up with joy as a horse burst through the heather, its mane flaming like diamonds in the dusk which was only surpassed by that of its rider, whose hair flowed in shimmering golden by his speed.

"Mae govannen, Estel! Mae govannen, Gilrael!"

The man ran forward at the ellon slipped off his horse. "I did not look to see you here, Glorfindel, after Gilrael arrived."

He nodded, glancing at the elleth with amusement. "Seems she disobeyed Lord Elrond's orders. Again."

Gilrael smiled. "Why waste time?"

"Indeed."

Estel beckoned the terrified hobbits forward, switching to the Common Language. "No need to be afraid! This is Glorfindel, who lives in the house of Elrond."

The ellon smiled at Frodo. "Hail, and well met at last! I was sent from Rivendell to look for you. Grave danger was feared to be on the road."

"Then Gandalf has arrived?" the hobbit asked hopefully.

Glorfindel shook his head. "Not before I left. But that was nine days ago."

Gilrael blinked. "It took you nine days to find what I found in maybe half an hour?"

The ellon raised an eyebrow. "Oh? We will speak more later." He turned to the hobbits. "There are five behind us, and when they find your trail upon the Road they will ride after us like the wind. And they are not all. Where the other four may be, I do not know. I fear that we may find the Ford is already held against us."

Gilrael pursed her lips. "The four others…they are very near. You lead them on, Glorfindel. I will try to delay them."

The elf nodded gravely, and Estel pursed his lips. "Be careful, Gilrael."

She snorted. "I could handle those guys in my sleep. Believe me, they're tame compared to…never mind."

The elleth swung onto her horse, waved farewell to the hobbits, and dashed off into the wilderness.

The Nazgul…what different circumstances than before! As the lieutenant of Mordor, they had feared her. They were servants of Sauron, yes, but in reality they served her. Followed behind her, causing terror to the lands as they rode from east to west. Now, however, what would they do when they saw her? Hopefully, obey her commands.

Soon enough, she intercepted all Nine of them riding hard straight towards her. They slowed, however, when they saw her, and she glared at them.

"What are you doing?"

The Witch-King of Angmar steadied his horse. "We're tracking the halfling who is carrying the One Ring, my lady."

Gilrael fumed. "A halfling? And all nine of you are after him?!"

"We had orders-"

"From who? Tuzern?" That orc was especially infamous for his lack of intelligence.

The Witch-King looked offended. "No, my lady. From Lord Roquen."

Gilrael snorted. "Oh, so it's Lord Roquen now, is it? Wonder how he got to that position. This manoeuvre of his is so incredibly stupid-"

"Excuse me for interrupting, my lady, but I fail to see the flaw. The Ring is the one thing that would guarantee our success, and if we could get it-"

"A halfling!" Gilrael exclaimed. "Have you become so incapable that you need nine Nazgul to secure a ring from a halfling?!"

The Witch-King frowned. "But there's not just a halfling. There's a Dunedain."

Gilrael put on a fake pathetic pose. "Oh, a Dunedain. You poor things. AND WHY DO YOU NEED ALL NINE TO KILL A MAN?!"

All of the Nazgul flinched, then the Witch-King protested, "But there's not just a halfling and a Dunedain. Elves are being sent as well. We believe one of the most powerful, Glorfindel, is on the way. He's a dangerous foe."

Gilrael glared at him. "Is there anyone else you forgot to mention?"

Shake of head.

She steadied her horse. "Now you're making more sense. But whose brilliant idea was it to ride as one big group?"

"Lord Roquen's," the Witch-King replied. "He said it would cause more fear."

"Fear, by Eru. Your goal is to get the Ring, not spread fear! Here are your new orders: send four rapidly ahead to the Ford, cutting off the halfling with the Ring. The other five will close in behind, thus surrounding them. Understand?"

The Witch-King nodded. "Yes, my lady. That is very wise."

She huffed. "And tell Roquen to step up his tactics, or I'm going to have to quit my disguise and march over there and take over myself. What are you standing there for? GO!"

The Nazgul didn't need to do anything for the horses to rear up and dash away at top speed. Gilrael watched them go with a heavy heart. How much longer would she have to pretend to be following Sauron's orders before he had enough?

Still, at least this time she would be victorious. She had delayed the Ring-Wraiths long enough, and she knew Glorfindel and Elrond's magic would work to make sure Frodo received healing in time and that the Ring was kept secure.

Gilrael urged her horse forward, and taking hidden paths, arrived in Imladris speedily. She was just in time to meet the Lady of Rivendell in the stables, also recently returned from a trip.

"Arwen?"

The elleth whirled around in surprise, a look of guilt briefly passing over her face. But she smiled when she saw her old friend.

"Gilrael! I knew the Silvan elves had arrived, but Legolas tells me you dashed off again."

Gilrael nodded. "Dressed in travelling gear?"

Arwen blinked. "What? No, no, normal riding clothes."

The warrior raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Arwen. Don't try lying to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Right. You never do your hair like that, you never wear those clothes, and you certainly never carry your sword with you unless you're planning on fighting."

Arwen pursed her lips. "You're not going to tell Ada, are you?"

Gilrael frowned. "Why not? What's wrong?"

The elleth shook her head. "I wanted to help. Elladan and Elrohir and all the others were sent out about a week ago, with no results. I wanted to help. I knew I would be able to find Estel. But Ada told me it wasn't safe, and I was supposed to stay here, to wait. I've done literally nothing in Lorien for all my life, and finally there's action, and he tells me to sit quietly and weave dresses! Can you expect anything else from me? Of course I went."

Gilrael crossed her arms. "But you didn't find Estel."

"I did! I did!" Her face fell. "But Glorfindel had arrived first. However," she said as her face lit up, "he told me to take Frodo on Asfaloth and ride hard to the Ford. I think he knew how bored I was. We made it just as the Nazgul came, and they almost surrounded us. But Asfaloth waded across the Ford, Glorfindel came and wielded his golden power, and Mithrandir was simply glorious. You'll never guess what he did."

Gilrael rolled her eyes. "As the water flooded over the Nine, his magic had the foam look like horses."

Arwen widened her eyes. "How did you know?"

Gilrael smiled. "He does that a lot."

The maiden shook her head slowly. "I never get to see the world like you do. I don't know things, except weaving and dancing and turning away eager suitors. Speaking of which, how are you getting along with Legolas?"

Gilrael quickly turned and made sure Rohiel was comfortable in her stall. "I don't want to talk about that."

Arwen grinned. "Oooh, this will be good. Arguments?"

Gilrael whirled around and cried, "No! He's perfectly fine! He's my friend, and I just don't think about him like…like you think about Estel!"

"He thinks about you like Estel thinks about me," Arwen sweetly announced.

Gilrael glared at her. "I don't think Legolas-"

"Don't think I what?"

The two elleths twirled to the front of the stables in surprise. The Sinda leaned against the door way with his arms crossed.

"I'm waiting."

Gilrael strode quickly towards him. "I don't think you should be eavesdropping on other people's conversations." She swiftly walked past him and disappeared in the gardens.

Arwen laughed. "Isn't she obvious?"

Legolas frowned, and watched her go. "No, I don't think she is."

Arwen slowly walked up to him. "What do you mean?"

The prince glanced at her. "Why are you dressed like that? Why is your hair like that? Why are you carrying your sword?"

Arwen blinked. "What are you-"

"Come on, Arwen, I know all your fashion statements for every occasion." Legolas grinned. "But don't worry. I won't tell your father."

Arwen exhaled, relieved. "Oh, good."

"But I do believe that's where Gilrael is headed."

The elleth widened her eyes. "Oh no!" She slipped past Legolas and ran through the gardens in a way that would have certainly displeased both the Lord of Rivendell and the Lady of Lothlorien.

The Sinda smiled. Perhaps the visit would be useful on more than one occasion. The happiness, for example, could cheer up the most grave soul. Every grave soul, that is, except for Gilrael's.

Ilweranael's, Legolas thought.