** Chapter 9 **



It took them awhile, but they finally came to the top of the cliff, and wearily began again on their journey. They continued along the Road, wary of Riders, and of anything else that might have brought harm to them.

Azura chanted beneath her breath, as she walked beside Merry and Pippin, chanting a healing spell to refresh her and keep her senses sharpened.

Merry and Pippin jumped back in surprise when wisps of white, smoke-like tendrils of light flowed around Azura.

Strider had stopped, and was watching her cast the spell, as well as Sam and Frodo.

The tendrils wrapped around her and absorbed into her, and she felt refreshed.

They all had questioning looks, and Pippin spoke up, "What kind of spell did you cast?"

"Just a healing spell, I have been feeling sore lately. I am well now, on we should be going, not dwindling on this road." Azura said, and continued to walk.

The others resumed walking, and in silence, they walk for a few more hours, and occasionally, Sam or Merry would sing a song to keep their spirits up. Many times, They passed Faile around, to cuddle and care for. She was growing fond of them, and squawked when she didn't get any attention form them.

Then, in the distance, they heard [I]clippety-clippety-clip[/I]. Also, they heard the twinkling of small bells.

"Is that a Rider?!" Pippin cried, clinging to Merry's arm, and looking wildly about.

"That does not sound like a Black Rider's horse!" Frodo said, looking about as well.

Strider had a hand to his ear, and a look of joy on his face.

Azura stowed Faile away in her pouch, that hung from her belt. "You shall be safe in there, now be good and quiet." She unsheathed her sword, and prepared for whatever that would come.

A rider came, on a tall white horse, his cloak streaming behind him, and his hood thrown back, and gold hair streaming from his head.

Strider ran forward, waving at the rider, whom had reined and stopped his horse.

"Ai na vedui Dunudan! Mae govannen!" The rider called, smiling at Strider.

Strider beckoned his companions to join him next to where the rider was.

They came, and stood next to him, and Frodo walked Bill over, and stopped, a small distance away.

"This is Glorfindel, who dwells in the house of Elrond." Strider said, introducing them, with a smile.

"Hail! And well met, at last! I was sent from Rivendell to find you. We feared you would been in trouble upon the road." Glorfindel said, somewhat sounding relived and worried all at once.

"So, Gandalf has reached Rivendell?" Frodo asked, joyful.

"No,he had not when I had departed, but that was nine days ago." Glorfindel replied. "But, we should make haste! We shall make for Rivendell, as the Nine are abroad. It is unwise to toil here for long, for they will find our trail, and come swiftly."

"My Master is sick and wounded. He can't go on riding after nightfall, he must rest." Sam growled, angry, but also, very worried, for both Frodo's health, and also, their own safety. He did not wish to meet a Rider, let alone nine.

Glorfindel examined Frodo's wound as Strider informed him as to what had happened that one night. Glorfindel's face grew grave, "This wound is beyond my healing capabilities, but they will be able to help him in Rviendell. But I urge that we move on, with as little rest as possible."

Glorfindel moved Frodo off of Bill and said, "You shall ride my horse. I will shorten the reins for you. And he will not let you fall, his pace is light and smooth, and in danger, he will bear you away with a speed that even the black steeds of the enemy can't rival."

"No,he will not!" Frodo cried, as Glorfindel placed him upon the tall horse, "I shall not ride him, if I am too be carried away and leave my friends in danger."

Glorfindel laughed and said, " I doubt very much, if your friends would be in danger if you were not with them! The pursuit would follow you and leave us in peace. It is you, Frodo, and that which you bear that brings us all in peril."

Frodo had no argument for that, and kept silent.

Glorfindel led them along the road, and they traveled, well into the night, until the misty morning was upon them. Pippin, Merry, and Sam were nearly asleep on their stumbling legs, and even Strider was weary. Azura straggled behind, unable to keep up due to the burning in her lungs, which caused her to be constantly short of breath.

They went a few yards beyond the road and slept on the heather. Azura tossed and turned all night, until she couldn't stand resting on the ground, as sleep constantly eluded her.

When the others awoke, she was moving about, restless, and waiting on them.

"How long have you been awake Azura?" Sam asked, standing, and rubbing his eyes wearily.

"All night…I kept watch. We must hurry with breakfast. I feel rather anxious…I think they have found our trail." Azura said.

Glorfindel passed around a silver-studded flask, and beckoned them to drink. Azura was the only one to refuse, and didn't even eat anything, much to her companions' dismay.

"On we go!" Glorfindel called, leading the horse Frodo sat upon.

They walked along the road, in silence, and keeping watchful eyes and ears out for Riders.

A few hours into the travel, Azura stumbled and fell upon her knees and hands, and did not rise, but rested in place, weary and unable to rise.

Pippin, Sam, and Merry were at her side in a flash, and helping her to her feet.

" Are you ill, Azura??" Pippin asked, worried.

Glorfindel came over, and lifted Azura off her feet, and placed her behind Frodo, on the saddle of his horse. "Ride with him, and hold close so neither of you fall."

Azura leaned forward, and let her chin rest upon Frodo's shoulder. He looked back at her, worried, "Are you alright? " He asked.

"Never been better…" She mumbled back. Her eyelids were heavy, and she was very weary, but sleep would not come.

Faile peeked her small head from the pouch, and chirped. Sam scooped her up from Azura's pouch and held her close, and smiled. She had red feathers trailing down her fore head, over her had, and down her back. The rest of her was covered in light grey, with speckles of blue.

The Road began to steadily decline beneath them, and the Hobbits began to walk in the grass, to ease their tired feet from the hardness of them road. In the afternoon, they came to a place where the Road went suddenly under tall, stooping pines, which cast dark shadows over the road, and then plunged into a deep cutting with steep walls of red. Echoes ran along as they hurried along the Road, and there seemed to be a sound of footfalls following their own.

All at once, as if through a gate of light, The Road ran out again, into the bright open. There at the bottom of the incline, they saw a stretch of a long grassy mile, and beyond that, the Ford of Rivendell. On the further side, in the vast distance, were peaks of mountains, touching pale azure skies.

There was still an echo of following feet in the cutting behind them, a rushing noise as if a wind were rising and pouring through the branches of the pines. Glorfindel listened, the sprung forward with a cry, "Fly! Fly! The enemy is upon us!"

The white horse leapt forward, and the hobbits ran down the slope. Glorfindel and Strider followed as rear-guard. As they neared the middle of the flat, A Rider came out of the cutting, then another, and then three more.

"Ride! Go!" Glorfindel yelled at Frodo, waving him on as he ran.

He did not obey, a strange reluctance overcame him. Azura's arms tightened around his waist, and she buried her face in his back Frodo turned the horse, and stared at the Riders in the distance.

They sat upon their horses, like statues Glorfindel and Strider followed as rear-guard. As they neared the middle of the flat, A Rider came out of the cutting, then another, and then three more.

"Ride! Go!" Glorfindel yelled at Frodo, waving him on as he ran.

He did not obey, a strange reluctance overcame him. Azura's arms tightened around his waist, and she buried her face in his back Frodo turned the horse, and stared at the Riders in the distance.

They sat upon their horses, like statues, and were watching him. They seemed to be beckoning him to wait. Then, as hatred and fear swelled over him, he drew his sword.

Azura drew hers, holding one arm around his waist, and held her sword high and proud.

"Ride on! Ride on!" Cried Glorfindel, then frustrated, he shouted, "Noro lim! Noro lim, Asfaloth!"

At once the horse leapt away and sped away like the wind. Azura dropped her beloved sword as the horse leapt, and nearly fell of the saddle, but she clung to Frodo and buried her face into his back as the horse ran like wind.

The Riders were after them in mere seconds, racing after them. The Rider's cried out, a weird cry, the same as they had heard on Weathertop.

To their dismay, the call was answered, and four more Riders bounded from Trees and rocks in the distance in the east, and two rode for Frodo and Azura, and the other two raced madly to cut them off at the bridge.

Frodo closed his eyes and clung to the horse's mane. The wind whistled in his ears, and the bells on the horse's bridle and saddle rang loud and shrill.

They were nearing the bridge, but two Riders sat in wait, with their blades drawn. Frodo's mind was overcome with fear and distraught, that he hardly felt the horse leap into the air, and then he heard a splash, and water foamed about his feet. He felt a quick heave and surge as the horse left the river and climbed the stony bank. He had crossed the Ford.

The pursuers were close behind, At the top of the bank, the horse turned and neighed fiercely. There were nine riders at the water's edge below, and Frodo's spirit was diminished before the threat of their uplifted faces. In any case, he felt that he was commanded urgently to halt. Hatred again stired in him, but he no longer had the strength to refuse.

Suddenly, the foremost Rider spurred his horse forward. It checked at the water and reared up.

With a great effort sat upright and brandished his sword. "Go back! Go back to the land of Mordor, and follow me no more!" His voice sounded thin and shrill in his own ears. He noticed Azura was shaking, from fear or cold, he could not tell, but her arms were around him tightly, and her palms flat on his chest, and her cheek pressed against his back and jacket.

The Riders halted, and they laughed at him with a harsh and chilling laughter. "Come back! Come back! To Mordor we will take you!" They called, in shrill, creepy voices.

"Go back…" Frodo whispered, feeling defeated.

"The Ring! The Ring!" They cried with deadly voices, and the leader sprang forward, his horse leaping into the water. He was closely followed by two others.

Azura stared in horror as the dark horses swam slowly across the river, coming ever closer. One of the Ringwraiths smirked evilly at her and spoke up, "She has risen! She has risen!"

The Ringwraiths on the bank echoed, "She has risen! She has risen!"

Azura shuddered, and buried her face again, then sat back and stood up in the reins, "Go back, you filth! Back to you lands and leave us in peace!"

"By Elbereth and Luthien the Fair," Frodo said, with the last of his strength and effort, and raised his sword, "You shall have neither the Ring nor me!"

Then the leader, who was already halfway across the Ford, stood in his stirrups and raised his hand.

Much to Frodo's astonishment, his sword broke and fell out of his hand.

Then, a roaring like Frodo had never heard boomed around him, and the river began to swell, and a fury of waves tipped with white flames, rushed toward the three Riders in the water. They were overwhelmed and disappeared beneath the swell of the River's fury.

The horse Azura and Frodo was on, reared up and neighed and snorted, and Azura fell from the horse, and landed harshly on the ground, her head striking the ground, and darkness swelled over her. The last she was aware of was the thundering roar of the river, and Frodo shouting her name.




Azura woke to the feeling of a horse walking beneath her. She was leaned back against someone, whom firmly had an arm around her waist, and with the other, held the reins.

"Make haste and fetch Lord Elrond! We've two injured, make haste before I decided to kindle you!" A strange voice shouted, somewhere near her.

She was lowered, and held in someone's arms, as if she were a child. Then she heard Strider's voice, just above her, "She has fever in her luings, and hasn't slept or eaten in days… I fear for her life, Gandalf."

"She will not die so easily, she is of the Order, the last, so she is much stronger than her frail form appears. Do not underestimate her power…I can feel a well of it, inside of her." There was a pause before Gandalf continued to talk, "It is true what they say above the Order, they do give off the power of the Mana Orb…You all look much younger, and fresh than I have seen you all last. Especially you, Aragorn."

[I]…What?….Mana….the orb….so familiar…My head…it throbs…[/I]Azura's thoughts were jumbled, and she felt very disoriented.[I]Riders…Mother…come back….[/I]

Forgotten flashbacks flashed through her mind.

[I]A Rider….A Rider….It came through the path that she remembered led to town, but Azura and her mother had been out picking berries. She remembered clearly that her mother wore a white sundress, and so did she, and they both were barefoot,….they had danced in the sun together, and made flower wreathes for their hair….It was her sixth birthday… Her mother had given her the special, the last of the essence of the Mana Orb…She was supposed to protect it. It was her turn.

Then her mother went up the path…and then came the Black Rider…Her mother…..She didn't jump off the cliff…they fought…she refused to go back to Him…and…the Rider…pushed her….[/I]

"Nooo!!!!!" Azura screamed, and began kicking in Strider's arms.

"It's ok! All is well! You are at the house of Elrond, the Riders are far away. Sleep, child, the fever is on you." Strider said, soothingly.

She looked at him through half-closed eyes, and with a weary haze. She cast her eyes around, and saw Pippin, Sam, and Merry looking up at her worriedly. There were other faces she did not know. A tall elf with long dark hair stood near, and peered at her with a sort of fatherly glow.

She struggled and kicked until Strider let her down. "Just because I am the size of a Man-child doesn't mean you can coo at me like I am one." She swayed a little on her feet, then grimaced, "How did I come to be here?"

"Your companions found you and Frodo passed out on the other side of the Ford. Gandalf saved you two from the Ringwraiths." Elrond replied.

She turned her eyes and saw whom was Gandalf...Gandalf the Grey. She had heard of him, he was a powerful wizard.

He bowed his head slightly, then spoke up, "I haven't quite met you. I knew who all was traveling with Frodo, but I didn't expect you to join the company so soon..."

"Who is this child, Gandalf? Is she…She is…" Elrond trailed, staring down at Azura in awe, "I should have known this child was of the Order…She has the eyes and the mark. Tell me, child, your name?"

Azura stared up at the tall elf, shaking lightly from her fever, "I am no child! I am 27 years old-" Azura was cut off by a laugh from Elrond, and a few elves standing nearby.

"Child, my young elfling. I know of your mixed blood, and your elf blood keeps you young as it does elves, you are merely a child in the eyes of us Elves." Elrond said, laughing lightly.

Azura scowled, "I am a woman, not a child. My name is Azura a'Leoni." She gasped lightly, when a sense of cold and dizziness rushed over her. She stumbled in place, and nearly fell, but Pippin caught her arm.

"She is ill! Please, treat her as you will Frodo, she is in dire need of rest." Pippin cried, a worried expression over his features.

Azura shook her head, "I am fine, Frodo is in need. I am well.."

Two elves started for her, to help her into the expansive house, but she shook her head again, and backed away.

Azura wearily ran from the group of people, into the trees. Something clouded her senses and her mind. She couldn't think properly, and everything in her mind was jumbled and a whir of emotion and fear.

"Azura! Come back!" She heard her companions shout, distantly.

She didn't know how long or far she ran, but she came to a small clearing, a grove of trees.

Azura sat, in the meadow, shaking lightly from the cold, her fever, and part, from fear. They didn't understand. Frodo, Sam, none of them. Not even the powerful Gandalf knew her troubles.

They were to go to Mordor, and she would lead them there.

To her own death.

Frodo will cast the ring into the Cracks of Doom, and the ring will be destroyed, and with it, her own soul. That was her curse. Her curse of life and death.

Sauron had created her heritage, of many different bloods. Their true origin, was from the magic of the Mana Essence, which had been trapped inside a crystal orb. They were a reclusive, shy folk, of very few numbers, but they were strong mages, and he shaped them and bound them to his Ring, to serve him. In life, they were bound, and when the Ring was destroyed, so should her family be.

There was a long poem her ancestors wrote, each one, adding a verse. She dimly remembered a few verses her father had told her:

[I] In the unholy hour, our blood was sired,
Blood of elf, of man, of hobbit, and of his own
With the power of the Essence, we came into being
Soldiers for his evil cause, lost souls bound to the One Ring

On our generation went, into hiding after It disappeared,
Mourning for the loss of the Ring, we wandered
In search for our new Master, unable to live without the Order
Child after child, our blood went on

The Calling is fading, but ever still there
Our minds are fading with it, as well as our blood
Until the last One stands, with the power of us all,
Shall we find our redemption, and our peace…. [/I]

Her mother had written the last verse, which, the poem, in it's entirety, was in her journal. Her mother's verse went as:

[I]The Calling, oh the Calling,
Grant me peace, grant me rest
I give this child, upon the Order, as she is tied
So sweet and small, asleep upon my breast
Grant me the strength to break these bonds, and grant her freedom
Even at the cost of my own death, I give her my power, to break the curse
And one day in eternity, she shall come back to me, with the setting of the sun.[/I]

Her heart grew heavy as she tried to remember the last memories of her mother. Her lip trembled, but she shook off her grief. One day, she would have to write the last verse. She was the last. But would their poem end in sorrow? Or would she avenge them and find redemption?

But now she was the only one left. So alone, she felt. The loneliness was unmatched. It was horrible.

She had told her self, over and over, she would find the Bearer, and serve him, until her death. That was her fate.

She hadn't expected to find Frodo, and his friends. They were such wonderful, kind folk, and so very kind to her. She silently wished they weren't nice, but evil, so she wouldn't feel close, she wouldn't feel like she was kin to them. That made it harder. She would die, as soon as the Ring is destroyed, and have to leave them. That would be her redemption.

[i]Would they forget me?[/i]The thought rung through Azura's mind, and instantly a sob tore from her, and she cried into her palms, and drew her knees to her chest. Her worst fear, was leaving this world with no one to remember her, no one to miss her or mourn for her. Her mother was forgotten, to the world but her, she was the only one who mourned her mother's death.

But no one would mourn for her. She was alone….

She shook her head, and fell forward onto her knees, and beat her fists against the grassy ground. "This is unfair! I did not choose this life! I don't want to be in servitude! I ...I...want...freedom...I want.. but I can't.. have it..."

She wanted to know what was to happen, but she feared she already knew it. In her heart, she felt it. Death. Sorrow. Misery. Was that her fate?

Her pain dulled, and she felt a familiar pain come over her senses. A vision. She saw a flash of light.

[i]"I am too late. All is lost. I tarried on the way. All is lost. Even if my erand is preformed, no one will ever know. There will be no one I can tell. It will be in vain."[/i]

Someone wept...She saw shadows, millions of shadows passing along cliffs of black. She saw Frodo, weeping, in his sleep. Another flash of light.

[i]"Frodo, Mr. Frodo! Don't leave me here alone! It's your Sam calling. Don't go where I can't follow! Wake up,Mr. Frodo! O wake up! Frodo, me dear, me dear. Wake up!"[/i]

She saw Sam, stting over Frodo...he was still...

"No!" She screamed and closed her eyes, forcing away the image. "I don't want to know! The future is torture! I won't let you take him! None of them!!"

She stood, opening her eyes, and screamed, tears welling in her eyes and streaming freely down her cheeks, "They are my kin! I love them dearly! You took my family! You took my soul! But you can't have them! As long as I give breath, you will [i]not[/i] have them!! Do you hear me, Sauron?! Curse you! Curse the Ring!" She screamed her frustration and anger, and then collapsed upon her knees and wept, wept for Frodo, and for her kin, for her mother, for Middle-Earth, and most of all, she just wept until her heart and eyes were sore. Her fever burned in her lungs, screaming for mercy and for a cure, and most of all, rest. She hadn't slept in days, and her body burned with weariness.

How long she lay in the grove of trees, she was unsure, but a long while passed, and she had lain, staring up at the twinkling stars, silent, unable to cry anymore, but the fear, pain, and sorrow inside her would not relent.

No tears came, though she felt as if inside, a war raged, of fear and sorrow, which was greater, she didn't know. She lay on her back, her arms spread out like an eagles wings, and her legs flat on the ground. Her eyes were red from crying, and her cheeks stained with tears.

[i]I will go with him, to the ends of Middle-Earth, and if I die, so be it. I will watch and protect him as long as I give breath... I...I...[/i] She blinked slowly, the thoughts running through her head. [i]I…love him...I will not let Sauron, or anything harm him, or his friends.[/i]

Then sleep came, briefly saving her from her sorrow.