DISCLAIMER: Not mine, nuh-uh, not mine...boo-hoo!
A/N: Kerra became Queen of the City when Anemosi left for the Undying Lands. Kerra is not the Lady Radika; Anemosi kept that role even after she left. If you're still confused, check out "Samwise's Tale"...it should explain everything. Enjoy!

************

They had completely bypassed the Shire, not wanting to cause any disturbances there with their sudden reappearance after having left for the Undying Lands. Talk over the appearance of several strangers in the Shire a year ago bearing a marked resemblance to the creatures described in the tales of the fey had still not simmered down, so Frodo and Sam felt it wise to avoid it. Gandalf had left them shortly after their arrival in Middle-Earth, not explaining his departure in any other way than to tell them that he "had work to do". After much deliberation, Frodo and Sam had decided to travel directly to the ancient forest of Ré-Nancet, and through there into the fey city of Siobhangé.

They had not been forgotten since their first visit to the city, and had been welcomed at the forest's edge by a small group of fey warriors who had escorted them through the forest, for the city was too well protected to allow any outsiders to enter it without a fight.

They had to wait several days until the Queen of the City returned from her visits to the other fey cities. She, like many of the other fey, was an old friend, and Sam especially was dreading informing her of Anemosi's capture. He was nowhere near ready when the summons came from the Queen herself that they were wanted in her council chamber.

Sam and Frodo were not prepared for what greeted them as they were shown into the chamber by a silent fey warrior. They had seen many strange and powerful sights in their time, and many fearful and terrifying ones as well, but nothing in their experiences had taught them how to deal with the complete despair that filled the woman who sat facing them.

She was pale as ice, her skin translucent with the weight of a grief she should have never had to bear. She was thin as a leaf and her eyes were stained red at the edges, but she was still blessed with the reddest hair in Middle-Earth, and that was how they recognized Kerra Ojona.

She looked up slowly as they entered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. In an instant, her face melted into a dazzling smile and she leapt out of her chair to catch them both by the hand, almost crying in her joy at seeing them again.

"Frodo Baggins! It does my heart well to see you!" His face was seized between two battle-roughened hands and his cheeks were kissed heartily, her embraces as strong and all-encompassing as ever. "I never thought I should see you again!"

In a breath, her attentions turned to Sam. He was swooped upon, kissed, hugged, and greeted until his cheeks burned a vivid scarlet. In spite of the joy she produced to welcome them, Sam could sense that Kerra was hiding a deep sorrow. Her laughter, once like a careless shower of glittering jewels, was forced, like cheap rhinestones, and her cheeks were hollow. She led them to two wooden chairs, gracefully lowered herself into the third, and clasped her hands before her. A shadow fell over her face; she could have been made of wax. Now that the immediate distraction of their arrival was over, the gloom settled upon her again, and they were silent, waiting for her to speak.

When she did speak, her voice was low and rough. She seemed to be barely holding on to her composure; all her happiness and laughter was only a facade that soon fell apart.

"I thank you for coming to our aid, my friends," she began slowly, "in our time of need. We are deep in grief, and I do not know what to do." She tried to continue, but a sob choked out of her, a ripping sound that made Frodo shudder. Kerra threw her head back, pain outlined in her profile, and spoke again.

"They...it...whatever this new evil is...it has taken Merrie. It came to my daughter on the walls of this city and tore her away from us before we knew what had happened. Oh Lady!" She covered her mouth with a shaking hand and closed her eyes tightly, but tears still leaked out the edges. The spasm of despair passed slowly, and Sam jumped when he heard Kerra's voice again.

"I have just received word today that Queen Arwen was also taken by the enemy." It was amazing how quickly the ambiguous force took on that name. "Forgive me, Master Samwise, that I must bear you this news...but I fear that Elanor disappeared from the Shire when Queen Arwen and Merrie vanished."

Sam went white to the lips. He seemed to shrink with the weight of a double sorrow he was never meant to bear, and Frodo reached out a hand to Sam, steadying his friend when it seemed that Sam would fall to the floor.

"Not Elanor too..." His voice was shaking, and his skin was clammy under Frodo's hand.

Kerra's eyes widened. "What do you mean, Master Samwise?" A single eloquent look from Sam was all it took to tell her.

"The Lady Radika! No!" Kerra thrust herself out of her seat and walked jerkily over to the window. Her hands were shaking and the skin on her face had gone mottled with barely contained rage. Moments passed in silence except for Sam's harsh breathing. He was holding on to Frodo's hand with a death grip.

Kerra turned away from the window slowly. "It seems, my friends, that we have our work decided for us. This calls for drastic measures."

Frodo glanced up. What kind of drastic measures? He shuddered as he remembered the fierce battle that had raged in the city as they had escaped, and he had no desire to see the fey fight once more. That one experience had been quite enough terror for a single lifetime.

"I do not know," said Kerra, "why these women have been chosen, and I do not know the villain, though I can make a guess." Her face darkened and, for the first time that Frodo and Sam knew of, she looked afraid.

"Lanal, I fear, has returned to Mordor."

The very name made her shiver. Frodo and Sam exchanged a wondering glance; what was it in the name that provoked such terror? Mordor they could understand; that name had just recently stopped haunting their dreams, but Lanal?

Kerra caught the look, and smiled grimly. "Lanal, my friends, is a witch of old. She is the only fey woman ever to be cast out of Siobhangé, and for that she has never stopped seeking to avenge herself."

"What did she do to be punished so?" asked Frodo.

"She killed her brother." Kerra's hard blue eyes met his. "The fey do not kill one another. It is the one act that is unforgivable, even by the Lady. It has only happened once, long ago in the Second Age."

"And she's still alive?" Frodo said. He had always thought that the fey soon died when separated from others of their kind.

Kerra pursed thin lips. "Alive...an interesting term, Master Frodo. Very subjective. Yes, she is alive, in a very superficial sense. She eats, she breathes, she...desires, but she can no longer think for herself. Her only thought is revenge, and to that end, she turned herself over to the Dark Lord. She became his consort, his whore," Kerra was spitting the words out in a blister of fury, "and she now, even though the One Ring is gone and the Dark Lord defeated, is trying to avenge herself upon us and the creatures that refused to shelter her."

"But why Elanor?" cried Sam. "Why my daughter? What have hobbits ever done? And why Anemosi?" He was shaking now, his brown eyes filled with tears.

Kerra bowed her head. "That, Master Samwise, I do not know. What I do know, is that we must save them before Lanal is able to complete her aims. I am glad that you are here; I have a great task to ask of you. I ask that you once more willing take on a burden of pain, and suffer, so that others may be spared." Her eyes were pleading as she met each of their gazes. "You both have much invested in this quest; too much hangs in the balance for you to refuse."

Frodo swallowed heavily. To tear himself away from the Undying Lands had been hard enough; to realize that he had left it for the blasted plains of Mordor was too much to believe. He could not do it.

But then he caught a glance of Sam. His oldest friend's fists were clenched, and his lower lip was clamped between his teeth in a gesture that Frodo knew all too well. He had seen it enough in Mordor when Sam had supported him and carried him and been loyal to him when the weight of the Ring was too much to bear and all hope within his own heart had died. There was no way he could refuse to help Sam when he had so much at stake.

"I'll go," they both said at the same time. Sam looked over at Frodo, and a light flared up deep in his eyes. His expression was a heartrending mix of sorrow, determination, and gratefulness, and once again Frodo was aware of how deep the bond was between them.

Kerra silently crossed the room and knelt down before them in a fluid motion. She took one of each of their hands and gripped it tightly in her own. "I would not ask of you anything that I would not do myself, my friends...I shall go with you to Mordor. Though we go to hell and back, I shall be at your sides. And," she said with a sly glitter of hope in her eyes, "I believe we shall have help along the way." She squeezed their hands again, and a new Fellowship was formed.