Aragorn stood guard every night, sworn Protector of the Halflings that he travelled with, watching for their pursuors, the great and terrible Ringwraiths, who followed them every moment, desiring the Ring with a deadly vengeance, and betrayed only by their deafening, terrifying screeches.

Tonight, the air was unnaturally still. No screeches, no whispers carried on the wind. Aragorn sensed something...or someone?

''Strider...''

He started, then recognized Sam's voice.

''Sam, go to sleep.''he said, as patiently as he could allow himself to be.''I beseech you. For tomorrow there will be no time for rest. We must reach Weathertop with the next sundown.''

''Can you hear 'em? The Black Riders, I mean? Are they...close?''Sam persisted, worried tones ringing in his speech.

''I hear nothing.''Aragorn said, not looking at the young hobbit.''Now sleep.''

''Yes, Strider, beggin' your pardon...only, I thought I heard a horse. Close by, if you get my meanin'. Couldn't see anything though, the woods are dark.''

Aragorn looked over to where Sam was pointing.''The trees have not been disturbed, Sam. You hear what is not there. If a wraith came that close, do you not think it would have attacked yet?''

Sam lay down and tried to close his eyes, but he heard it again. The faintest whinny... Aragorn heard it too, and curiosity led him to investigate.

''Who goes there?''he asked, his strong voice loud and bold in the darkness. Behind the trees, Acacia stiffened at the sound. She had been discovered.

''Show yourself, or prepare to fight!''Aragorn warned, drawing his sword. He saw a black figure move forward from amongst the trees, a flash of silver at their belt.

''A wraith!''he cried, running forth and wrestling the unsuspecting stranger to the ground. But, to his surprise, this 'wraith' was surprisingly...small. He moved off his victim and threw of the hood of their dark cloak.
To his shock, and the waking hobbits', he saw the face of a young girl. Her skin shone pale gold in the moonlight, her eyes were huge and emerald-green, and her hair fell about her face in tangled ebony curls. She was breathing hard, and flushed.

''Not a wraith, but quite happily your enemy!''she said, glaring at Aragorn with a defiance that unnerved him.''How dare you spring on me so! I have half a mind to teach you a lesson you shall not forget in a long time, brute!''

Aragorn was beside himself with a mixture of relief, surprise and guilt.''Lady...forgive me...I thought...''

''I know what you thought.''the girl answered, leaping to her feet.''And address me not as 'Lady', for I am no more deserving of the title than you are.''

The hobbits had been watching this episode, and tried to hide their amusement. A young girl had truly put the great Strider in his place, and they had to laugh.

''Pray, tell me who you are, child.''Aragorn said, facing her.
''I am Acacia, if it has any consequence to you.''answered Acacia, her green eyes flashing wildly.
''Forgive me, Acacia. My name is...''
''You need not tell me your name, for I had pondered it in my mind long before this meeting, and been clarified the moment I heard your voice. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Isildur of Gondor's heir. Though perhaps lacking in chivalry and forethought, and not quite so well met as I would have liked.''Acacia interrupted, staring at the tall man.

''You know much more, young Acacia, than your years would betray.''Aragorn replied. There was a strange sort of fearlessness in this wilful child that he had not at first expected. He then noticed her ears.

''An Elf!''

She shook her head, her black curls whipping her cheeks pink.''Do not assume too much, Ranger...or perhaps I should say, Forgotten King?'' Aragorn looked a little hurt at such a title, and Acacia felt guilty, for the first time in her life. ''I am neither Elf nor mortal, but halfcast between. My mother was an Elf of the great forest of Lothlorien, and my father a man of Gondor like yourself. Though neither now remain, I am Half-elven, a title known to Lord Elrond, if you know of him.''

''Elrond!''Aragorn was surprised.''You have been to Rivendell?''
''Nine days have passed since. And I have learned much, but nought of the quest that you and your little companions seem to be embarking on.''

''What business is that of yours, wench?''spat Sam, who had been listening to the conversation and now profusely disliked this Elf girl who dared slight Strider. Acacia glanced at him scornfully.

''Much more than you can countenance, Halfling.''she told him.''There is much that I have seen.'' She looked over at Frodo, who was staring at her with wide blue eyes.''What look do you give me?''she demanded, striding over.''What importance do you give yourself that you go about with that rude stare?''


''Speak not foully to Frodo, Acacia.''Aragorn told her.''He carries a trinket of great importance, and must be wary at all times. Forgive his staring, if you will.''

''I will.''Acacia said, her face curious.''A trinket, you say? What trinket is this?''She looked around, confused.

'' 'Ow do we know you're not one of them spies?''demanded Sam suddenly.''Strider! She could be Sauron's messenger! Do not speak of our quest!''

''Sauron needs no messenger.''Acacia said coldly.''His forces in Mordor are moving. I spy for none but myself.'' Aragorn nodded. Acacia knew much that could be useful. They could not afford to keep the tidings concerning the Ring a secret.

''Frodo!''he called.''The Ring!''
Frodo looked at Strider in surprise, but obediently took out the Ring and held it in his palm for Acacia to see.
''Behold.''Aragorn said seriously.''The One Ring.''

Acacia was speechless. She had heard Elfsongs of the Ring of Power, but passed it off as legend. And now it was right before her, and in the possession of a Halfling.

''The Ring.''she murmured. So this was the cause of Sauron's current wrath. She hardly dared to believe it.''How came it to be in the hands of such an unlikely creature?''

''It was left to me by my uncle. Bilbo Baggins.''
Acacia felt her heart almost stop. Bilbo Baggins...
She remembered watching the party in the Shire. Remembered the hobbit they called Baggins. Remembered the screams of a tortured prisoner that echoed around Mordor.

*Shire....arrghhh....Bagginsssss!*

''Baggins!''she crired aloud.''Then it is you the Black Riders are pursuing. It all ties in...''

The five others stared at her.

''Forgive me, but this is where I must leave you. I ride to Rivendell!''

And she ran back into the trees, mounted her horse, and rode forth to the House of Elrond.