Disclaimer: The more I read it, the more I want to own it, however the rights would cost a LOT more than I own so I have to say... I do not own the Lord of the Rings. Are you happy now? You made me cry!

A/N: Hello again! This is for all you Jaden-fans out there. Lots and lots of Jaden. The other characters should be in the next chapter, but I'm not for sure. Poor Jaden has had her story fall a bit behind the others so... yeah. I am so happy! I finally figured out the rest of her plot! It kept on changing and changing... but now it is all set! Yay! I have nothing important to say... wish me fun at the opera with my friends! We shall have fun! Yay! That's it, I'll go away now, bye... see you at the end!

Twists and Riddles

Jaden reflected as she tromped along through the scraggly vegetation after their unwholesome guide. The parting with Faramir had been simple and heartfelt, even though not a single tear had been shed in either party. True to his great 'quality', the Gondorian Captain had given them as much travel-food as could be stuffed into their shrinking packs, which now felt wonderfully heavier, as well as bestowing each of them with a sturdy, metal-tipped walking staff to aid them in their rough travels. Before he had left, Faramir had clasped each of their shoulders in turn and left a kiss upon their brow, as was the Gondorian manner. Now Jaden felt as if she had just left yet another dear friend behind her, as she trudged on to meet her fate.

Before her meeting with Faramir, Jaden had not believed that it was possible to bond with another person so quickly in such a way. And yet, there she was, on her way to Mount Doom, and he on his way to save his city and face the rigors of the Nazgul. Who was to say that she wouldn't be seeing more of the Nazgul as well? It would be just her luck to run straight into one of those nasty, black, demented wraiths and mess things up royally.

'Stop it,' she criticized herself. 'It's not like you need anymore stress in your life, you twit. So quit the morbid daydreaming.'

It didn't take too long for the teen to be deeply grateful to Faramir for his gift of the staves. Boulders, rough ground, and slippery little streams were no longer so much of an issue with her trusty staff. The two Hobbits seemed to be putting their own walking aids to good use as well. On one occasion, Jaden nearly slipped on a slimy rock and went swimming with some of Gollum's precious fish, there was no doubt that she would have toppled in if it hadn't been for the wondrous walking stick. In the future, she decided that every walking stick she would ever own would be equipped with a metal tip. Oh, it was a wonderful thing.

The air held a deep foreboding, like the strain before a thunderstorm breaks loose. Every breath seemed labored as the four strange companions clambered over the landscape toward the towering, shadowy mountains ahead of them that nearly blocked out the sky. It seemed almost as if the very atmosphere feared what was about to be unleashed from the dark pits of Mordor, and knew of the tiny feet that bore Middle-Earth's greatest and only hope. The birds had fled or lost all inclination to sing, and the thrice-blasted crickets had vanished. For once, Jaden would have welcomed even their tedious chirps in the stale air. Nothing breathed, nothing moved, all was waiting, waiting for the doom of the world to be clinched.

Four pairs of feet marched in steady rhythms, straight and to the point, wasting no time that could be used to get closer to that accursed destination. There are many kinds of anticipation, and the one that hung over the whole of that land was more akin to dark knowledge of things to come, or the fear of them at least. The prophecies Jaden bore grew heavier as she went along, screaming common-sense and other nuisances at her.

Honestly, what did a girl who hadn't even graduated highschool think she could do to save an entire world? The idea was ludicrous to say the least. At least the Hobbits were mature beings who knew what they were doing to some extent, Jaden had barely even gone camping a few months ago, for crying out loud! On the other hand, the average teenager didn't have knowledge of future events, either. She knew what was supposed to happen, and when it was supposed to happed, that had to count for something. Really, she was going along as less of a 'companion' and more of 'time line-chaperone'. Not that it really mattered, she had already messed up the time line by simply being there, so if she died she might actually be setting it straight to some extent. Of course, she was quite confident in her friends' ability to thoroughly wreck anything very well on their own.

Soon, as they walked along, Smeagol seemed to remember Jaden's knowledge of riddles, and decided to try a few rounds with his only female friend.

"Voiceless it cries;

Wingless it flutters;

Toothlessly bites;

Mouthless mutters.

"What is it? Does the Jaden know? Has Smeagol stumped her on the first try?" he cackled.

"Wind," Jaden said confidently. "Leigh and Maylin would tan my hide if I got that one wrong. My turn.

"What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in the evening?"

"It is a man, precious," Gollum gurgled after a moment.

"A man!" Sam exclaimed. "Of course! How silly of me! First he crawls as an infant, then walks as a man, then walks with a cane! How simple!"

"It's called the Riddle of the Sphinx," Jaden told him. "It comes from an ancient story. This Sphinx would sit above a road and ask that riddle to everyone who passed, and if they didn't get it right, they died."

"Sounds like a nasty creature," Sam wrinkled up his nose.

"Lessons later," Gollum snapped. "Now is Smeagol's turn.

"This thing all things devours;

Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;

Gnaws iron, bites steel;

Grinds hard stone to meal;

Slays king, ruins town;

And beats high mountain down."

"I think that it is only fair to tell you, Smeagol," Jaden smirked, "that I know all the riddles you and Bilbo used on each other, so repeating them won't work on me. The answer is time. Do you have any new ones?"

"Haven't had time," Smeagol sniffed. "Everybody chasing poor Smeagol, no time to think."

"I have one," Frodo piped in. "Let me see...

"Only one color, but not one size;

Stuck at the bottom yet easily flies;

Present in sun, but not in rain;

Doing no harm and feeling no pain."

"Oh I know, Mr. Frodo, I know!" Sam exclaimed. "It's a shadow! I was just thinking about mine, it looks like I'm some tall Elf, and not a Hobbit at all. Now I'll try one, if I may.

"Little Nancy Etticoat;

In a white petticoat;

And a red nose;

The longer she stands;

The shorter she grows."

"Leave it to Sam to stump us all," Jaden sighed. "I don't know what it is at all."

"I agree. Sam... Oh wait! Now I have it!" Frodo laughed. "It's a candle! The longer she stands the more of her melts. Wonderful, Sam! Do you have another one?"

"In fact I do, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, a bit cockilly. "Try this one.

"Black within and red without;

With four corners round about."

"Oh, that's too easy," Jaden sniffed. "It's a chimney. My turn!

"A hill-full, a hole-full;

You cannot catch a bowl-full."

"Mist," Gollum hissed, "lovely mistses that float around the mountains and confound the yellow face.

"Round like an apple, deep like a cup;

Yet all the King's horses can't pull it up."

"Oh goodness," Frodo said. "It's a hole, and I'm afraid we'll have to delay any more riddles for now, friends, for there is a rather deep one just ahead of us."

The rest of the day slipped back under the oppressive weight of the air, and no more riddles were exchanged among the four of them. Of course, all the while Gollum was making a nice wreck of his brains trying to come up with a new riddle.

Despite the friendly air Gollum seemed to be displaying, Jaden't gut kept her on her toes. Both the book and movie seemed to agree on the pivotal fact that Gollum/Smeagol could NOT be trusted, under any circumstances. Being unsure whether the Winding Stair would follow the simple struggle from the books, or the tense, emotional betrayal that Peter Jackson (to the massive chagrin of the book fans) had added in, Jaden thought it wise to keep a close and sharp eye on her froggy companion. Treachery was the creature's middle name, and Jaden had not seen a large enough change in his plotted behavior to believe that he could be turned and put back on a true path. There was nothing she could do to help Smeagol any more than she already had, but she could certainly help Frodo, and stand by Sam's side, offering a sturdy arm of support and guidance.

If Smeagol turned on her, he would get a nasty surprise, of that she was certain.

For the next few days, nearly all they did was walk, with Sam occasionally ordering a rest when the others would have kept going towards their dark destination until their legs gave out. The Hobbit was sure to make sure that at least a few bites of sustenance found their way into his master's and friend's mouths. Despite Sam's best efforts, though, sleep still remained an elusive companion to the other two non-deformed members of the party. It was quite obvious what kept Frodo awake when they stopped, but Jaden's thoughts were slightly harder to discern.

Often now, she found herself wondering after her friends, thinking up every possible situation that they could possibly be in, and a little row of graves was an option that was continually popping up in her head. Maybe they were somewhere happy, somewhere good. Maybe Maylin and Leigh were tromping around in Fangorn Forest, banished there by Aragorn or Gandalf until the entire mess of the war had been cleared up... yeah right, and maybe the Easter Bunny would fly in with a squad of reindeer and take out all the Orcs before Minas Tirith when the time came. Fat chance. After all the years Jaden had spent with all three of her friends, she knew they weren't the type to be sidelined. Jack's wound wouldn't keep him pinned down very long, and Leigh and Maylin would fight tooth and nail with any man who told them that their fighting wasn't 'safe'.

A frightening idea floated in with her fears concerning her friends: was it the Ring putting these worries in her head? Maybe she wasn't as immune as she thought she was, maybe the Ring was just playing with her. It was not a comforting thought at all.

So sleep stayed away, and the life style of trekking zombie settled in over her active consciousness. All around her, the land echoed her growing fatigue. There was mold everywhere, and the plants were nearly all dead, or half dead. Thorn bushes were clumped in prickly humps all along the hills and in the little valleys, and most of these had given up life some time ago. In Jaden's eyes, it seemed that everything was rotting, slowly and steadily, as if the decay of Minas Morgul had spilled out for leagues around it. Honestly, that would hardly surprise Jaden, she had seen stranger and far more unbelievable things. However, this just might be the most disturbing thing she had seen since leaving with Frodo and Sam, and that included the nasty dead corpses in the Dead Marshes.

Slowly, Jaden's dreams turned strange and twisted, always having something to do with at least one of the things from Mordor. One night when she actually managed to sleep, she had the following dream.

Jaden was once again sitting in her two friends' dorm room/ apartment, and both of its occupants sat in front of her in plush chairs that didn't fit with the rest of the decor at all. They looked like something off of a cheap talk show, and both of the girls occupying them looked like they had been recently brainwashed and sucked backwards in time by a few decades. Jaden herself was sitting on a rough, uncomfortable tree stump and found that she wasn't at all surprised by the strangeness of the setting.

"What are the Nazgul?" she asked mechanically.

"They are like ghosts," Maylin answered.

"But they are zombies," Jaden replied.

"No," Maylin said.

"Yes, the walking dead," Jaden argued in a monotone voice.

"No," Leigh said. "They have no bodies any longer. They are spirits, nothing more, nothing less."

"They are the dead," Maylin said.

"And the undead," Leigh continued.

"They are malevolent," Maylin said.

"And empty," Leigh said.

"What are we?" Jaden asked.

"We are what does not belong," Maylin said. "We are dead to our own world, yet we walk in our own flesh."

"We are zombies," Leigh stated.

Now Jaden could see that tiny fragments of flesh were falling from the limbs and faces of both of the other girls. Their hair grew frazzled and coarse, and their eyes shrank back in their heads.

"We are the undead," Maylin said.

Then as black shrouds grew from their skin and covered their decaying faces, they said in harmony, "We are the Nazgul."

They were now reaching the cross roads, a place of sorrow for things lost and hope for things to come. It was perhaps the best single place that reflected the soul of Gondor. While things may seem bleak, and may be bleak, there is always hope for the morn. The sun will rise again, and hope will live on.

As the dreary companions trooped into the little, treeless area of the two roads that met there, the sun broke through the growing cloud cover, and all but Sam gave a little wince at the expose such bright like could give. A tall statue stood to one side of the way, clearly sculpted by those who had made the massive kings of the Argonath. Yet this ruler had not faired so well as the timeless memorial of Isildur and Anarion. Foul hands had hacked the head from the robed shoulders and replaced it with a crudely fashioned head of their own, grinning and with one eye. Malicious scrawls littered the rest of the statue and Jaden was very glad that she couldn't understand them. Then the light illuminated the toppled head of the old king, lying in dishonor by the side of the road. But Frodo, seeing it first, exclaimed, "Look! Look! The king has got a crown again!"

And it was as he said. Though the initial decoration had been practically scraped away, two flowering vines, one with blossoms of white, and the other gold, had curled over the king's brow and into his hair to make a splendid crown for him, once again, as there had been in the days of old. Though his eyes were sunken and his beard was hacked, a fair nobility had been granted once again to this king of Men by the love of two little plants, that perhaps had granted to great a gift simply by mistake as they sought for the sunlight. Jaden was sure that it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life, and certainly the most moving.

"They cannot conquer forever!" Frodo cried. Then, suddenly, the light fell away again, and the miraculous image was gone.

Gollum, always the practical one, wasted no more time. Pulling on Frodo's cloak he hissed, "We must go. We mustn't stand here. Make haste!"

Obediently, though not happily, the other three followed behind their guide once again. For a little while longer, they trudged along, burdened by fatigue or other, more serious ailments that impeded their feet. The road twisted one way and then climbed. The only thing Jaden could think of was that they were about to do much worse climbing, so this really shouldn't be so hard... but her feet suddenly had developed a mind of their own. Was it possible for feet to go on strike?

Frodo froze beside her, and then stumbled backwards toward the rock wall behind them, gasping and staring ahead with wide eyes like a fish. For a moment Jaden frowned, and then she turned, and saw the horrendous sight of Minas Morgul, City of the Dead.

Once upon a time, the city had been a flawless, white reflection of the moon, pure and lovely. Now, however, it was white as the pale, decaying flesh of the dead. There was a pale light that seemed to come from the decaying city, but it was a dead light, the light of rotting souls that illuminated nothing. The black, gaping windows pockmarked the tower that spiraled above the walls and looked like holes eaten in the rotting, white flesh of the tower by maggots. There was a section on the topmost section of the obelisk that revolved back and forth slowly, like some weird head looking across the lands before it.

All four of the travelers were now caught in the eery chill of the place, and their feet were frozen to the ground. Gollum was the first to regain his senses, shocker, I know, his instincts for survival conquering the bone-chilling fear faster than the ordinary courage of the others. Frantically, he pulled at his master's cloak and the party began to move again, although it felt as if they were moving in slow motion, like when you're running from something in the dream and feel as if you're moving through water. However this didn't stop the fiendish little creature as he nearly dragged them all forward towards the white bridge ahead of them.

Across the bridge, all could see that the road ran up to the great, black mouth of the city's gate. There were meads on either side of the road across the river, and they were filled with strange white flowers that bloomed all about. The shapes of these blossoms were contorted and strange, and the smell the issued out was far from lovely, and filled the air with the a charnel-smell. Under the bridge, a still river lied, billowing up white steam, which was deadly cold.

Frodo's eyes darkened and he stumbled towards the awful bridge, towards the rotting city, his hands held out before him, groping. Everyone of Frodo's companions charged forward and brought him crashing down just on the threshold of the bridge.

"Not that way!" Gollum hissed. "No, not that way!"

"Hold up, Mr. Frodo!" Sam pleaded in his master's ear. "Come back! Not that way. Gollum says not, and for once I agree with him."

The shaken Hobbit managed to get a small grip on reality and both Sam and Jaden aided him along after Gollum, who was already scuttling away into the darkness. There was a small gap in the wall of stone along the road, and through this they passed. Now they were on a narrow path that gleamed strangely as the main road had up until they climbed above the white flowers in the meads below, then it became terribly dark. As they hurried along, they kept on taking glances behind themselves toward the dead city, whether out of fear or fascination they did not know.

A/N: I was actually planning on having the bit with the Witch King and all that in this chapter but... it just didn't happen, sorry. You'll see him soon, I promise! PLEASE review! I work on a review basis here, the fewer reviews, the less I work. And that's just how it is. I would love to hear who your favorite members of the Four are, what you think I'm gonna do with them (this makes very humorous reading for me on occasions), and what ships you're pushing for. Say... 'Sir Pickles' if you have read my noteses. That's one of my birds' names, by the way. Just thought I'd mention that.