Fog twisted around the weary feet of the hobbits as they treaded along behind Glorfindel and Strider in the early morning light. Shadow stayed back, making sure none of them fell behind.
Frodo sat atop Asfaloth. It was obvious that he was fading fast. He no longer held the façade that he was alright. Instead, he sat slumped forward, clutching his shoulder with his eyes clamped shut; he couldn't see the terrors that flew before his waking eyes that way.
Sam remained just to the right of the horse, refusing to wander far from the side of his master. Pippin and Merry, the youngest of the group, stumbled along behind with Shadow between them. At one point, Shadow dropped to one knee quicker than sight and caught Pippin as the little hobbit fell forward.
"Aye, Little one, look sharp," he said gently as he pulled Pippin close to his body. "Come on, Meriadoc," he motioned to his back. Happily, the hobbit jumped on, ecstatic to be giving his feet a rest.
And so it was when Strider looked back to observe the group behind him: Frodo on horseback, Sam to his right, and Shadow now to Sam's right with one hobbit in his arms and another on his back. The ranger couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at the sight.
"Shadow has always held a particular love of the halflings," Glorfindel said absently.
"Indeed," Strider responded, "he's almost given his life for them on more than one occasion already." Glorfindel gave a low grunt in response.
"Frodo is indeed very important, as you know," the elf frowned, "only Shadow knows fully what role he will play in all of this. It is a high one indeed if the Jedi places his own life below the halfling's."
"Alright," Strider threw his hands up, but still kept his voice low enough to only be heard by Glorfindel, "Who is he? You, an Elf-Lord bowed before him. Who exactly is carrying those hobbits back there?"
"Shadow will reveal himself to you in due time," Glorfindel smiled, "He is protecting you by keeping his identity hidden. He has long been a thorn in the side of the enemy. Besides that, he is of extreme import to the empire of Starkaven in the West. Without him, Lady Daiel's people would be hard pressed to withstand an attack from the dark lord, and once he took down Starkaven, the Undying Lands would be obliterated, and from there, Sauron would gain control of everything…knowledge of Shadow's involvement in this venture would bring Mordor's forces down upon us one hundred fold."
"Why would he risk getting involved?" Strider looked at Glorfindel in amazement.
"He believes that if Middle Earth falls, even the help he could offer would not be enough to stop Sauron from taking over the world…and in Shadow's belief, this would cause all of time and space to fall into darkness." Glorfindel sighed. "Despite my deep respect for him, I sometimes fear that Shadow's love of this land has become too deep and clouds his judgment."
"Or perhaps the judgment of one who has watched the rising and crumbling of worlds untold should not be so easily doubted," Shadow commented as he and his load of hobbits took the lead in the trek. "You forget how sensitive my hearing is as well, Lord Elf," he added with a laugh.
Suddenly though, the Jedi stopped and turned his head to the side. All at once, he placed Pippin on the ground and grabbed Merry's wrists from around his neck. With a quick motion, he sent the hobbit flying into the air and caught him on the way back down, sitting him gently beside Pippin.
"They are upon us! FLY!" he cried as he smacked Asfaloth and jumped on the horse behind Frodo.
"Noro lim, Asfaloth!" Glorfindel cried. "Fall back, friends! They're after Frodo and won't hesitate to ride you down!"
With that, the hobbits, Glorfindel, and Strider threw themselves into the bushes as five of the riders plowed through the open space on the road.
"We must trust Shadow to get him safely across now," Glorfindel sighed when they had passed.
"Perhaps there is something we can do…" Strider mumbled as he grabbed two large sticks and proceeded to light them on fire. "Swords bring down the curse…but fire does not…"
~#*ITS*#~
Fear took hold of Frodo with an icy grip. The pain in his shoulder took his breath, and the only thing that held his sanity in place was the steady breathing of the man on the horse behind him against his back. In the wraith world where he now saw, everything was tinted blue from the glorious light the Jedi gave off. Ahead of him, though, Frodo watched as two more riders broke through the trees in an attempt to cut off their escape across the Ford.
Frodo felt as though the very knife of the Witch King was piercing his shoulder again as the shrieks of the Nazgul filled the air. Frodo threw himself forward onto the horse's neck, gripping his chest. Immediately, though, Shadow grabbed him back and held him tightly. Something was different this time, though.
Frodo felt an unnatural warmth spreading from where Shadow's right hand was placed firmly against his chest and shoulder. Looking down, Frodo saw that the Jedi had removed his black glove, and now a hand so pale it was almost blue tinted glowed brightly against his shirt. The hobbit felt more than he heard the Jedi singing loudly in an ancient tongue he did not understand despite the horror of the Nazgul around him. In his mind, a soft gentle voice spoke,
Everything is going to be alright, Frodo. Fear not the darkness. It has no power over me, and I am with you.
Just then, though, when Frodo was sure that the voice was right and everything would be fine, two more riders emerged in the distance, directly in the path of Shadow and his frightened cargo. Before Frodo realized there had been movement, he found that he was in Shadow's arms, and the Jedi was standing on the hind quarters of the horse as it galloped fearlessly toward the enemy.
Just as they reached the line of Nazgul with their cold hands outstretched before their wispy, grey bodies, Shadow launched himself in the air and did a summersault, landing gracefully behind the black horses and continuing to sprint forward.
Five hundred feet still stood between Shadow and the river when he left Asfaloth's back, and the riders were catching up quickly. They had delayed slightly out of shock at the Jedi's desperate move, but they had quickly come back to themselves, and now all nine were trailing on Shadow's heels.
The Jedi turned and threw a gloved hand out behind him. With his motion, four massive trees came down across the road, barring the passage of the Nine. As they fell, Shadow leaped and slid between two of the trunks, narrowly missing being crushed beneath them. The trees would only delay the Nine for a few seconds, but it was all Shadow needed. He reached the river while the Nazgul were still going around his blockade, but it didn't matter now. He had succeeded.
Crossing the river hadn't been something Shadow had fully contemplated as he had leapt from Asfaloth's back, but it was of little consequence. As his booted feet reached the water's edge, Shadow reached out his hand. Under his foot and all the way across the river, large stones now hovered inches above the water's surface, and without hesitation, Shadow ran, using the rocks for a bridge as he went. As his foot left each one, it fell back to its home in the swirling abyss.
Only when Shadow reached the safety of the far bank did he pause to look back.
"You have lost this battle, Wraith King!" He called triumphantly.
"Give us the Halfling," came the hissed reply.
"I'm afraid that would go against my plans," Shadow smirked beneath his hood.
"Give him to us," something about the way the wraiths spoke sent a chill up Shadow's spine, "or we will end his pitiful life now."
Suddenly, in Shadow's arms, Frodo began to scream as the pain overtook him like never before. All at once, the screams ceased, and the hobbit clutched at his throat as though someone were strangling him. From across the water, a wicked laugh reached Shadow's ears.
"Frodo?" Shadow laid the hobbit on the ground, running his hands over him in a desperate attempt to block or dislodge the king's hold on him, but nothing worked. "Release him," he demanded icily, turning to face the Nazgul who had begun to cross the water.
"Give him to me, and he will live…for a time," came the taunting reply. In the distance, Strider and the others came running down the hill, but were caught at Shadow's obstacle.
This was to their own good, however, because the Jedi's anger was boiling. Shadow trembled from head to toe as a righteous fury took hold of him. Throwing his hands out to the side, he called upon the Force, and the ground began to shake. The Nazgul shrieked as their horses reared up in fear.
Shadow spoke words in the ancient elvish tongue, and the waters in the river began seething. From the river's upper end, a rumbling noise began, and soon, a rolling wave appeared sweeping down from the mountains. In the center of the wave, the form of a massive white dragon spread its wings and bore down on the Nine.
The Nazgul horses turned to flee, but Shadow was already acting to prevent it. He clenched his fists and the ground began to shake harder. The earth between the barrier of trees and the river began rolling like the water, and rose up into a wave of its own, forcing the riders into the path of the boiling dragon.
In an instant, the riders and horses were swept away leaving no trace behind, and all was quiet. With an absent motion, a breathless Shadow returned the land to its proper place, including the downed trees before turning to see about Frodo.
"Behold the power of a Jedi Knight, pushed to fury," Glorfindel nodded with a satisfied smirk.
"I'm just glad he's on our side," Strider replied in awe as they raced forward to reunite with their friends.
~#*ITS*#~
A/N: What did I tell you? Excitement. XD Tune in next time for…not necessarily excitement…but certainly some interesting happenings at Rivendell. =)