The Makwraiths moved quickly, covered miles of ground in minutes.  They avoided all settlements, whether they be towns or lone cottages.  The Heilres leaped over rivers, running on the water but never disturbing the surface.  And soon, they had arrived.  The shadows were deep where they lived, the deepest of all shadows.  Here, their king lived.

            The Makwraith leader separated itself from its group and jerked its head at the Makwraith who had captured Legolas, signaling for him to follow.

            The leader was greeted by two sentry Makwraiths, who said, "How did you fare?"

            "Not well.  The Elf revealed us and we had to flee.  But we have captured the Elf." the leader replied.

            "The king will not be pleased." one of the sentry said, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

            Abruptly, the leader remembered that he was speaking to a mere guard as an equal. "Who are you to say whether the king will be pleased?" it snapped as it pushed past the guards.

            The king's castle was small and dark.  A long, twisting pathway led down to the king's throne.  The two Makwraiths rode their Heilres straight down, the Dark horses easily finding their way.  At the end of the path was the king.  It sat in a seat of shadows, mostly hidden in them.

            The leader and the other Makwraith dismounted and bowed.  A hand waved them to a standing position as the king leaned forward.

            "You were not successful." the king stated.  The king seemed to be part of the shadows, save for a pale, ghostly face and bright yellow eyes.  The title of king was deceptive, for this king was a female.  She was not a Makwraith herself; she had merely created them.  She was a Shadow-daughter, brought into being to rule the shadows.  But she had gone astray.  Former rulers had mostly left the shadows to their own devices, reprimanding them when they were too cautious to follow someone and if they were too mischievous, playing tricks on creatures' minds.  But this Shadow-daughter was different.  She had brought the shadows out, freeing them from a life of following.  She hoped to give them a better life, one where they could run wild and free, doing what they wished.  And she had succeeded.

            Now she hunted the Fellowship.  Having heard about their encounter with Sauron and the defeat of Saruman, she decided to try and defeat them herself.  This Shadow-daughter was a restless one, easily bored with haunting Human towns and Elvish villages.  And so she sought the greatest she challenge she found possible.

            "You were not successful." she repeated, letting the disapproval ring in her cold voice.

            "No, my king.  But we have captured the Elf.  I will return tonight." the leader replied quickly.  It was obvious that it was trying to keep the king from becoming angry.

            "You fool!" the king hissed. "Next time, they will be ready for you.  You have failed me.  Begone!"

            The king pointed a long, dark finger at the Makwraith and it blew apart, becoming a shadow.  She turned to the other Makwraith.

            "You have captured the Elf?  Very good.  You will take your leader's place.  Now, give me the Elf." the king said.

            The Makwraith silently pulled Legolas from his Heilres and dropped him on the ground in front of the king before withdrawing into the shadows with his steed.  The king nodded a curt dismissal to the Makwraith and he bowed once before leaving. 

            "I am the king of the Makwraiths.  I am called Shadara.  You would be?" the king asked.

            Legolas was silent, struggling to breathe as his life began to leave him.  Shadara walked to him and tilted his head up, seeing the flash of fear that was replaced by defiance in his eyes.

            Shadara smiled. "Legolas, is it?  Your shadow tells me all."  She looked up as Legolas' shadow pulled away and bowed to her.

            Legolas let out a weak cry of hatred and drew the long knife at his belt, slashing at the king.  She moved quickly, wrenching his arm away from her.  An audible snap echoed in the room as his arm broke.  The knife fell to the ground with a thud.

            Shadara's strange yellow eyes swept the dark room before focusing on the Elf before her who lay on the ground, the light fading in his eyes.  She clenched a fist at the shadows behind her and two creatures stepped out from their depths. 

            "Take him away from here.  Treat his injuries and lock him up.  Makwraiths will ride again tonight and this time, we will be successful." Shadara said.