She rushed out of Elrond's study following him, to the urgent sounds of the elven horns from somewhere below. Racing to keep up with the tall elf as he hurried down the countless stone steps and open passages towards the elven guard that were arriving in the courtyard below, mounted on their horses, she nearly tripped on the long, flowing elvish dress she wore.

As they arrived, the elven guards were already dismounting and lowering several of the badly injured, some leaving trails of blood that belonged in a slaughterhouse instead of the last homely house!

An elven guard was at Elrond's side immediately, speaking almost inaudibly with him in Sindarin.

In the courtyard, the horses had been led away already, and several healers had arrived, fussing around the injured, against the noises of groans and screams of pain, as armour was being removed, wounds being cleaned and bandages being applied.

Seeing it all unfolding before her, reminded her of a busy trauma department at home. It was difficult to hold her natural instinct back; she had never treated elves before, but that wouldn't stop her. Muttering under her breath about the inconvenience of elven dresses on small pregnant women, and gathering up her long flowing gown in her hands, she rushed forward to join the few healers working already.

The last week had seen her practising control over her apparently growing powers of Osanwe, with Elrond and Galadriel in Lorien. Apparently she was quite capable of holding a very rudimentary conversation from quite a distance.

His study had turned from what she initially regarded as filled with curiosity, into a pseudo-prison. Of course he had insisted on regular rests, as sitting in one place was progressively getting harder for her, given her growing stomach. It seemed that Elrond himself had grown nervous about her abilities, and had regularly ducked the question when she had asked where she might have got such powers from, and why they were suddenly growing.

Meanwhile Thorin had spent many long hours painstakingly reforging the shards of Narsil, which meant he usually arrived late each evening, so she had been reluctant to share her troubles, choosing to spend their evenings taking walks around Rivendell instead. He too had initially been reluctant in his walks, but as time wore on relaxed and even secretly enjoyed their time together. After all, while in Erebor, most of his day was usually spent engaged in work duties, so they were not afforded this much freedom.

Working steadily, she had been absorbed into the team of elven healers, helping to stabilise the injured before they could be transported to their healing rooms.

Nearly thirty elves had been brought through with multiple injuries, which made her wonder what exactly had happened. At one point she stood up to stretch her back and look for more bandages that had been brought down, only to spot Glorfindel seated on the ground, and slouched over having removed his own helmet. It appeared that unlike the other injured who were lying, writhing, or groaning in pain, he was quiet, and on first glance looking thoughtful. Shobha paused, staring at his form in the corner of the courtyard, suspiciously, only to notice he appeared to be struggling, almost fighting for breath.

Taking several steps closer, and noting his breathing growing ever more laboured, she quickly reached him, but to have him try and push her away as she neared.

"I need some help here, now please!" She shouted at the group across the courtyard where the others carried on working. His movements were slightly uncoordinated, but weak, which allowed her to move around to inspect him better.

Under his arm, supported by his helmet, an arrow had pierced through his armour. It looked as though he had attempted to remove it himself, but failed, and it had snapped partway. He was short of breath, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his brow. Quickly finding his pulse fast and thready, she tapped on his chest.

"Quick! Help me! We need to cut this armour off him, and I need a small knife or large needle!" She shouted at some of the healers who were scurrying over with several medical kits.

"Perhaps like this one, my Queen?" A voice rasped from behind her, and before she could look over her shoulder, she found Nori at her side, offering up a set of perfectly shiny, and rather sharp looking very tiny scalpels.

"Thank you! Perfect. I need something to clean these with please."

The healers worked quickly, cutting off the leather ties to remove his armour, while another cleaned several small knives from Nori's collection. She had, now amassed a small audience, including several other healers, several of the injured, Bilbo and Elrond himself.

Quickly she tore through his linen undertunic which was soaked in sweat and blood, and began to palpate the spaces between his ribs along his sternum. She worked instinctively, reaching over to the healer that held the cleaning solution and Nori's miniature knives, she took the small bottle and poured some liquid over her hands and over his chest.

"Hold him still please…" Finally after Nori and another healer held his arms out of the way, she chose a knife and a hollowed instrument that had been among the selection, inserting one after another into his chest wall. There was a prominent hiss after inserting the hollow instrument, and it was followed by a gasp of relief from the tall, golden haired elf, as he grasped Nori's arm tightly, where the dwarf had been helping to hold him still. "Feeling better…?"

He groaned in pain but nodded.

"Breathing a bit better…? …you had a pneumothorax… because of that arrow," she explained. "We will need to sort out the arrow and put in a chest drain, otherwise your lung won't heal properly."

"Get him to the healing rooms - Make haste now!" Elrond commanded the healers from behind her, so within moments they had moved him onto a gurney, and carried him away. But he remained behind with another healer. "Is this what you do in your land?"

She looked up at him, wiping her bloodied hands on a cloth handed to her by the other healer, as Nori scowled at the sight of the blood.

"Yes, it's actually considered a profession back home…" then noticing Nori, she patted him on the shoulder in thanks. "But I don't think I could have helped, if not for Nori's brilliant equipment, which I promise to have cleaned and returned..."

"It's my pleasure to serve our Queen." He bowed his head, cheeks turning red above his elaborately plaited beard.

"I have to say they look very sharp, and frankly rather interesting." Then she paused wondering why he had them on his person and shook her head, realising that he was at times entangled with more dubious activities, where the law was concerned. "In fact, I don't think I necessarily want to know what those are used for…"

"Perhaps, my lady will be satisfied if I suggested 'lock picking'…?"

"Perhaps."

He smiled, before bowing again and disappearing rather quickly in response to her affirmative nod, clearly hoping to dodge any further line of questioning from both the woman and the elf.

Elrond caught her eye as she watched the dwarf skip away quickly, raising an eyebrow. Helpless to comment, she merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Hmmm… and perhaps you would like to show me how you would treat such an injury in your healing rooms?" Elrond extended his hand, to usher her towards their healing rooms. He had not seen the race of men practicing such precise methods of healing before, and was suddenly somewhat intrigued.

"Okay… but aren't your spells much better…"

"Sometimes. But I would not have even known Glorfindel was ailing so terribly." He paused briefly to glance at her, a soft smile on his face.

"The silent injured are usually the ones to be vigilant about."

….

"They ambushed us on our own borders, my Lord." One of the guards spoke, while she finished bandaging him. "In truth, I do not believe they expected us… and so whatever they had intended to do, we had inadvertently disrupted. And once we had done this, there was no choice but to engage."

"We have found stray packs of orc wondering our lands. But never in such numbers." Elrond spoke thoughtfully.

They had spent the last hour removing the arrow from Glorfindel with Elrond. But try as he might, due to his injury and then medications given for pain, he had been unable to get any valuable information from the elven warrior.

"They are after something… or someone…" suddenly a thought struck her, making her heart pound. "Could anyone know that Aragorn is here… ? Are they trying to get rid of the future King?"

Elrond abruptly halted clearing the bandaging from the small table on which everything had been set out to manage the injured.

"Leave us please." He addressed the elven guard, who immediately obeyed. Next he turned to face Shobha, his brows raised in sheer surprise. "So it is true… Gandalf believes you posses the gift of foresight… but are you certain of these things?"

"Not everything – but some things, yes." Realising this was the only moment, all this time that Elrond had actually listened to her concerns properly, instead of dismissing them like a parent reassuring a child that there was no monster under their bed without actually checking. She knew this would be pivotal in trying to convince him. There was no point explaining about a book that she once thought was fictional, it was better he believed it was foresight if it helped. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Look – don't believe me; even think of me as mad or eccentric. But mull this one over carefully yourself: Saruman refused to accept or look into the dark goings on in Dol gul dur until things were dire, he doesn't live on the road, caring for people the way Gandalf does, instead choosing to lock himself in an impenetrable fortress – what for? Do you ever wonder what he is doing in there…? And isn't Orthanc perfectly placed for an attack on Rohan?"

"Perhaps he is old… weary of wondering and living on the road… he is the white wizard and a trusted member of the white council. He would surely not attack Rohan, to whom he is a friend." Elrond challenged gently, and yet there was a wavering tone to his words. One that no one else would have picked up on, but after all these hours spent in his tutorship, it was as discernible to her as night and day. "Besides we have no reason to believe he is malevolent – he too aided in destroying Dol gul dur when the time arose –"

"Ok: but I am telling you with all certainty – he will betray the white council in time. He wants the ring for himself. Of that, I am sure." She frowned again, thinking hard about what she should reveal. "Saruman is on his way here. And just in case I am right, I don't think it would hurt to hide Ara – I mean, Estel away. I believe he will be the King to bring us all hope, when Sauron openly announces his return in the future – and I think even you believe this much. I don't think it was a coincidence that his father as Isildurs heir was killed by orcs before, do you?"

Elrond paused in a rare moment of uncertainty. There was something in the words she had vocalised; The mistrust of a great wizard, one of the Istari, no less, that troubled him. All these years, he had kept the existence of Isildur's heir hidden. And their was something that made sense in what she said about their being a greater risk of exposing him at this point.

"So what of yourself? Do you fear that he may harm you?"

Shobha looked up at him, noticing the scrutinising look on his face.

"Would you ask him to leave if I begged it?" She fiddled with some equipment nervously. The thought of facing Saruman, truly made her feel sick to the stomach. All she wanted were some answers about why she found herself here, and why she was beginning to exhibit certain abilities, which she never possessed before. When she first arrived here, she missed her family terribly. And yet at he same time she felt some selfish relief from her old life, which felt tired and used, a bit like an old pair of shoes that had become comfortable because of how worn out they were. Of course she would think about everyone from time to time – even sorely miss her parents, sister and her family, but she couldn't go home now. That much she knew.

He leant down with an apologetic expression and set his hands on hers, stopping her fidgeting.

"Shobha, dear child, I promise you, no harm will come to you or your unborn in my halls," he promised softly. "But he is part of the council, and may even reveal something important. We cannot make him unwelcome."

….

They stood in the lowest courtyard of Imladris as a few elves helped the riders to prepare a horse and pony.

"My Lord, I am sorry I won't be here to see the sword complete," Estel bowed to Thorin, who returned the gesture with a gracious nod. "And I thank you for your words of counsel…"

"So what of it, young Lord Estel? Did you win the heart of your fair Lady?" Thorin smiled gently as he wrapped his arm around Shobha's ever growing waist. The past couple of weeks working in the forges with Dwalin, and spending time with his wife had given him something he would never have expected to find here, so far from home, and in the halls of elves! He had found respite for the first time in decades! Even as a prince he had lived for duty, and in truth he couldn't recall when he last allowed himself to relax beyond the times he had spent in their marital bed.

"Alas, my Lord, it was just a foolish dream: and not meant to be. I cannot ask her to bind herself to me and give up her life and kin," the young dark haired warrior spoke with heavy heart, clearly attempting to suppress any emotion. He looked up briefly, and Shobha briefly followed his gaze to spot Arwen. The elleth had clearly been crying recently herself, and didn't linger long, disappearing back into the balcony and out of sight with grace. "And I do not think her father would grant his blessing for such a union..."

"Don't lose hope, Lord Estel. I think you will find true love never ran a smooth course," Shobha smiled softly, realising that she won't live to see it.

"Aye," Thorin agreed, his lips pulling up into a rare smile as he caught her eye. "And do not worry about the sword, it will be ready for it's King when the time is right."

"Where will you go now?" Shobha queried, as Bilbo hovered in the background. He too was dressed in his travelling clothes.

"We are to journey north, to join my kin."

"But making a slight detour, my Lady." Bilbo added quietly joining the small group. "Lord Estel has kindly agreed to travel through the shire. I think I have been away from home long enough. I imagine those

"I expect he will receive excellent hospitality in Bag End." Thorin patted Bilbo on the back fondly, which was only received by a diplomatic half smile by the hobbit himself. It made her wonder what sort of havoc the dwarves had wreaked in his home.

"I am sorry I won't get to travel to Lorien with you, I should have liked to see it." Bilbo moves closer to Shobha and smiled fondly. He had enjoyed his journey and stay at Erebor this time very much indeed and a lot of it was down to her! "But those Sackville-Baggins' will have their eye on my dinner plates, no doubt."

"Thank you for coming on this journey with me, Bilbo." She squeezed his arm gently and watched the hobbit turn a bright shade of pink. "I'm sorry I won't get to visit the shire! Especially Bag End from what Thorin describes."

"Well, my Lady, you are always welcome in my home." Suddenly he grew concerned about her meeting with the White Wizard. With everything she had been through, her impending childbirth, which he had come to learn was a very messy and dangerous business; this had started to feel like a final goodbye. "I just think… well.. you know… I worry about you…"

"I am a nobody, he won't be interested in me…"

"My dear Master Baggins, our Lady has a King protecting her." Thorin stepped in this time, a tinge of irritation in his voice, although the hobbit was among those he would consider most trustworthy, he found his possessiveness had only grow since her pregnancy. "You make this sound like a final goodbye – but I hope we shall see you again in Erebor."

"Come now Master Baggins, we have a long journey ahead." The tall, cloaked figure of Estel quietly prompted the group from where he stood with his horse and Bilbos pony.

"Lord Estel, how far north will you travel?" She looked over to him, only to find an attentiveness she hadn't expected for such a simple question.

"Other rangers of the north are spread far and wide, with only few to defend their lands… Why do you ask my lady?"

"There will be spies, maybe even Black Riders that will be searching… for something important… they will look to Bree and the Shire…" she whispered to him nervously. She wanted to tell him as much as he could, without changing the course of events. "Please will you and the rangers guard it…"

"Of course my Lady." He raised an eyebrow, clearly curious to know more. "I understand it will be part of our duty as rangers to protect the old lands of Arnor."

Then he looked from her to Thorin, a King who had always been raised to take the throne. For him, Elrond's decision to allow him to travel beyond their kingdoms, at last, was welcome, ever since the day he was informed of his true identity. This would allow him time away from such a great burden to discover more about his people, and their code of honour.

"I fear I have much to learn for myself," he gently patted his horse, soothing its impatience.

"I think you have made great strides in that already," she reassured.

"I thank you for your kind words, but I have still much more striding left to do, my lady… lots of striding…" he gently brought Bilbos pony over this time and held it in place, indicating to Bilbo that their time for goodbyes had come to an end as he absentmindedly muttered to himself. "A strider…"

Shobha threw her arms around Bilbo, who wholehearted returned her hug. And then he turned to Thorin, bowing his head at first, only to find the usually grumpy king smile softly as he too leant down and gave the hobbit a hug, only to have Estel help him onto his pony immediately after.

"I like that, I think; Strider; my name when I journey in the wild." Estel smiled at Shobha, before bowing his head to both King under the Mountain and his consort.

"And may it bring you good luck, my Lord." Thorin gracefully tipped his head in return, and they both stood there watching, Shobha waving until both had disappeared out of sight. There was something poignant about that moment for she imagined this might be the last time she ever saw Aragorn, and wondered whether it might be the same for Bilbo.

…..

"We have never heard of any successful couplings between dwarf and man, and it is entirely possible that the mother or child or both may not survive the ordeal, leaving this prophecy unfulfilled." Saruman dismissed coldly looking directly at Shobha and Thorin, who had been given seats in a corner so that they might be able to listen to the discussion. The two wizards sat around the large stone table in a courtyard set high up in Rivendell, while Galadriel and Elrond stood, occasionally pacing. Saruman the white in particular seem to scare her. He had an arrogance about him that suggested a lack of care for anything beyond his own interests. His hair was a silvery white, and lay long and silky, as though it had been washed and brushed with care. It was a stark contrast to Gandalf who due to the nature of his perpetual travel appeared to have frizzy, shaggy hair, even if it were washed and clean. In fact he looked like he could do with a good brush! What was really telling was that beneath his white cloak, he wore robes made of multiple colours, although he hid them well, and on occasion when he turned and his cloak opened up the rainbow robes shimmered and dazzled!

"And we must do all we can to prevent such a tragedy." Elrond added pacing slowly, hands behind his back.

"These old Noldorian prophecies do not concern me." Saruman shot a direct look at Elrond. "You have been hiding something from us, my Lord Elrond…"

His accusatory tone made her blood run cold. Her heart beat faster at the thought that he might have somehow read her thoughts to learn about Aragorn.

Elrond too kept silent for a moment, turning to look at the old wizard questioningly.

"We have gathered here to discuss the prophecy –"

"You harbour someone with a powerful mind here in Imladris… one with strong Osanwe. I have felt it!" A hint of irritation had crept into his voice.

"So you have felt it too?" Gandalf looked from Saruman to Galadriel.

"Gandalf, stop drawing this out, and tell me who it happens to be." The white wizard sounded impatient now. "You know I do not possess the same ability as you do…"

"Why would it matter who it matter who –"

"There are only three who have such power, to communicate by thought that well, Gandalf. Our Lady and yourself may be two," Saruman paused and pulled his lips tight. It was almost a subtle smirk. "The other would be Sauron."

Shobha gasped softly, as Thorin took her hand in his, and everyone fell silent.

"Come now. You all behave as though this is new knowledge… Gandalf, it is you who speaks of dark powers arising… I think it important to know who –"

Shobha was about to stand up, when the two elves happen to pace over and stand in front of her.

"It is I, Saruman." Elrond spoke up. "I have noticed a change in my abilities…"

"But there is more to it." Gandalf leant forward. "What do you believe?"

"This power stems from a dark source. None other could be so powerful: there was a story… a whisper, even, that Sauron sired a child. An experiment; with an Easterling or Southron woman of royal blood." Saruman suddenly looked towards Shobha but found his view blocked once again by Galadriel and immediately softened his tone. "Of course it cannot be verified, but I imagine a child begotten of such a union would be sure to have such powers..."

"Would Sauron have such a capability? Such an act of creation would surely tether him to a mortal life…?" Gandalf searched the face of the white wizard for any signs that he may have been holding back himself, but found nothing more than a neutral expression.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps he found another way. His power extends far beyond the physical domain as we know it." Saruman admitted. His desire to seek out the true owner of the mind he had felt was getting the better of his patience. He knew fully that Elrond was lying, but would not be able to accuse him as such, all the same."For surely, such a child, grown, would provide him a loyal servant but would become an unchallengeable ruler of men…"

"I do not believe Sauron would have the capacity. Knowing he would gift even, some of his power, however small. And feel no threat. However loyal. Even for his own child." Gandalf looked to Galadriel and then Elrond for their thoughts.

"I agree; such an act would require love…" Galadriel chimed. "Something that Sauron is incapable of. But you believe there is more to it?"

"He would not see a daughter as a threat… she could never challenge him. And yet… a female child could be given as a great prize to a King." Saruman stared at Gandalf, a look of triumph in his eyes. "It would also offer a solution to the problem of any such prophecy."

She had been listening avidly, but had never expected such a turn of events. For someone who had otherwise led a relatively mundane and insignificant life, this had been like finding out that it had all, in fact, been a lie. And that she was actually the daughter of the most ruthless serial killer in history!

Her heart raced, and lungs felt squeezed, as though breathing any more was not possible. And the nausea that she had found relief from in Rivendell, had returned; bubbling and churning from the pit of her stomach and building its way up.

Unable to hold it any more, she stood up, planning to leave, at least for a few moments to get some air. That's when she felt it – like a flutter in her belly, but there was no mistake; the baby; HER baby moved!

The news that she was pregnant had been wonderful news when she first realised it, only tainted with the slightest of sadness that she couldn't tell her parents the news. But hearing Saruman had driven her into a complete confusion, not only about her entire being, but also her unborn child!

Rushing to move out of her chair and towards the stairs that led her out of the courtyard, her pounding heart gave way and her vision faded into darkness….

Dear All,

Thank you for your patience! Wishing you all a happy new year and decade to come!

Your kind reviews and reaching 100faves has really kept me going ❤️

Always love to hear your thoughts/comments/reviews xx

special thank yous:

chelsea - thank you so much! that really made my day (i often worry about my dialogue between arda dwellers). Lol - i do think my naughty bits are not olympic-sport level acrobatic enough for fanfic ;)

juliebigjewlzbrowning - thank you so much! hope you like this chapt too x

priya - thank you so much! this will start off boring but hopefully pick up soon

coldonepaul - i know what you mean about Elrond. somehow i see him as dismissing her a bit like a father would a child: and he wont take it seriously until he sees it himself. Bilbo however, is not ready to give up his ring yet, so will take precautions, which is probably why he takes heed. But there is now a possibility her powers come from a darker source...

redhouseclan - not long now... i am planning a handful of chapters before the birth :)