I still recalled the letter hours after I wrote it, riding across the Pelennor Fields as fast as this black and white spotted mare could carry me. In the east, I saw the first pink hues of sun that would eventually bathe Minas Tirith in the light of a new day. It was a city mourning the loss of a great leader.

As far as I knew, I'd finished my mourning and now rode toward an uncertain future that could lead to anything, but would more likely than not lead to additional tears and the spilling of blood. Far too long had Gondor enjoyed its relative peace, across more than a century.

And in that quiet calm, the nation had grown complacent and weak, as my father had in this last year when his Dunedain blood would carry him no further.

Two weeks have gone by since his passing, and each day felt like a year in its own right. I'd shed my share of tears, but within a few days, my eyes grew dry, and the city came to feel close and tight, as if another member of my family would suddenly pass on if not enough care was shown, enough worry given. That feeling smothered me, and I soon withdrew from the presence of my brother and sister.

Black banners were hung throughout the city, and people would loudly wail in the streets. They'd shout, "Elessar is no more!" And "Our great king is gone!" I couldn't tell what was authentic emotion from the mourners and what was part of the show.

For much of Minas Tirith's population puts on a show, especially in the higher levels of the city. So much is made of appearance for the sake of a light that once burned bright and then slowly dimmed to a subtle gray without anyone noticing for decades.

"Come on, Himona. We need to do better than this, or Eldarion's riders will overtake us in a few hours," I said to my steed.

For her part, she picked up the pace as more light started to build in the eastern sky. I pictured my brother's face as he unfolded my letter, left for him on the table beside his bed. The new king had always been a heavy sleeper. Consequence of growing up in a safe household, I suppose.

From memory, I recited the letter, again going over my message, wondering if I'd chosen the right words to impart my feelings and the dire nature of my departure.

"Dearest brother,

I know this is a difficult time for you, for your family, for your city. It's not the best time for a new danger to announce itself. And yet, as we've discussed at length, sometimes shouting, I feel as though that's exactly what's happening.

Right under our noses, a new threat is growing. But I know this is a matter we disagree on, so I won't waste more time trying to convince you.

Just know that I'm going to find someone who will help. And I'll take care of this problem before it comes to threaten your crown. As daughter of the late king and sister of the new ruler, I feel this is my duty.

Though she likely won't care, please give my best wishes to mother as she travels to her homeland with our sister to mourn.

I know our last conversation was heated, and we both said much. I regret some, but not all of my words. But I do love you, brother. And I have faith you'll continue to be a great and wise leader for this land. I just have to go do my part to help you, even without your blessing.

With sincerity and love,

Your sister, Gilraen"

Surely the new king of Gondor would read this letter and immediately dispatch soldiers to quietly bring his "mad" sister back to the city.

"That's why you need to run as fast as you can, my dear Himona. We have a great task ahead of us, and I can't afford to be caught now," I said, pushing black bangs out of my face. It'd rained last night, so the ground was still muddy in some spots.

Spring came late to Gondor this year, and cold mountain air crept down toward Minas Tirith for weeks longer than it had in previous years. Even this morning had a bit of late season chill remaining yet. Fog poured from my mouth whenever I spoke to Himona, and my gloves weren't thick enough to keep a little cold from my fingers as I tightly held the reins.

We rode north at a brisk pace, following the Anduin at a distance. After a couple hours, I finally eased up a little and let Himona drink from the Great River.

I can't let my nerves drive me to break my horse, I thought, stretching my legs and shoulders. A few joints in my neck popped as I took in a breath. The sun had been up and watching over the land for a little while now.

"Eldarion. . .have you found my letter yet?" I muttered, kicking at a small rock sticking out of the ground. "Did you crumble it in fury and call for your fastest riders?"

Overhead, a hawk cried out before racing out of the sky carrying talons hungry for prey. I watched as it plunged into the water briefly before soaring out with a gray and silver fish. It cried louder in triumph before soaring up into the air and further upriver.

"That is my path," I muttered, walking over to the river.

Looking into the clear water, I saw the daughter of a great king looking back at me. The girl in the water had raven hair that was long and tied back, dancing behind her shoulders in the gentle breeze coming off the Great River. I remembered the girl in the water didn't come up to her father's shoulders, but her arms and thighs were more broad than her sister's. My reflection's gray eyes watched me, looked over my tailored leather cuirass covered in a nondescript ashy cloak I'd bought the day before yesterday in preparation for this journey.

I'd left behind anything bearing the White Tree or other identifying symbols. My leather boots I snatched from one of the guards stationed near my room who had smaller feet. The dark trousers I bought from a tailor who spent most of her days making clothes for teenage boys held prisoner by awkward and uncontrollable growth patterns that dotted their path on the journey to manhood.

Hanging at my left side, a short sword, and my right, an elvish dagger. I was more familiar with the sword, having spent years training with it. My father started teaching me the blade at the age of seven, and when at last his fingers lacked their prior steadiness after two centuries of walking Middle Earth, he found me a tutor to continue teaching me.

"Of course, there is a difference between learning how to swing a sword inside protected city gates during an age of peace and learning how to wield the blade as a tool of survival when it is all that protects you in the wilds," my father once told me.

Eldarion has traveled outside the city gates with our father and fought in minor skirmishes here and there. I suppose it'd be accurate to say he'd seen a battle or two, maybe even spilled some blood. I. . .had to make do with an instructor who did his best to teach an awnry girl with more bitterness than her privilege should've allowed for.

Traveling alone for the first time in my life felt freeing. But there was also fear. I kept scanning my horizon, unsure of what threat might come into view. Or wouldn't. When I was 10, I asked my father if he was scared before he became king. I'd spent my life listening to soldiers of Gondor telling such big tales of their heroic feats, the kind of stories one only had the audacity to craft in an era of peace.

"I'm still scared, Gilraen," he said, smiling, lighting his pipe. "I was scared when I first told your mother I loved her. I was frightened when I hunted foes in the hills and woods with my fellow rangers. And I was terrified that I would make the same mistakes my ancestors did when it came to the One Ring. Fear is important, my daughter, and it kept me alive on more than one occasion."

A fish even larger than the hawk caught earlier hopped out of the river after a dragonfly and came splashing back down, bringing my attention back to the present. I'd waited here long enough. Would Eldarion know my path? I hadn't told him where I was riding to. And if I was being honest with myself, I didn't exactly know where this horrifying threat would arise from.

My nightmares were many, but they were also vague. Fragments of an image my brain struggled to make sense of. But there was darkness and fire wielded from a staff made from the most charred branch I could imagine. The staff's tip consisted of jagged spikes fanning out in all different directions. And the man who wielded this weapon had his sights set on Minas Tirith.

Looking back on that limited information I shared with my brother, it made sense that he didn't exactly know what to make of my visions. I wasn't frustrated with his lack of belief in my warning. It was the way he dismissed me to attend to my mother and travel with her to Lorien, as though my only use in this world was to cry with the woman who hadn't so much as lifted a finger to — I took my thoughts off my mother and the bitterness her memories left on my tongue.

I reached into the saddlebag of my steed and pulled out a carrot, one of many I'd packed for Himona. I stroked her mane for a few minutes and fed her.

"You ran so fast this morning, and I'm grateful," I whispered to her. "The road is long, and we have many hours to ride before getting to Ithilien."

Others might have chided me for laying out my agenda to Himona, but I knew she was smarter than anyone else gave her credit for. My father once said the cunning of creatures is often overlooked just because most do not speak the tongues of men. But the wisest man would learn to speak the tongues of creatures.

I didn't know how to speak the tongues of horses. I was no Rohirrim, after all, but I still made a point to tell Himona my goals, my thoughts, and so many other things. To her credit. She was a great listener.

We started north again, and in the distant west I saw a few riders moving slowly with a cart loaded with furs. They paid me no mind. I passed a few ships sailing south in the Great River toward Osgiliath.

For the most part, I rode without interruption. We kept a good pace, and I often looked behind me to make sure we weren't being followed.

Himona and I took a few watering breaks, and mostly I ate dried fruit while riding.

Eventually, the Druadan Forest came into view out toward the west, a long patch of pine lands given their autonomy by my father a century ago. Of course, my father would say he only granted them legalistic autonomy. Because anyone who thought they could occupy the forest and outwit the Druedain were outright fools.

King Elessar's decree was more for the world of men to understand it would be much wiser for everyone to leave these woods alone.

I rode onward, and the clouds above began to build until the later half of the day was gray as my own eyes.

Eventually, the sun ceded this day to the moon, and a greater chill roamed the fields I rode through. A low-level mist rose from the shores of the Great River. I could hear it flowing louder now.

My lower back and shoulders were sore from the ride, but still I pushed onward, thanking Himona for putting up with this endurance run that came with little warning.

By now I imagined Eldarion's riders had torn Osgiliath apart looking for me. I smirked, hoping he'd wasted their time having them search the city.

After several more hours and yawns, I finally glimpsed light from an outpost on the shores of Cair Andros.

"There you are, you annoying little island. I've been waiting for you to appear on the horizon all day," I muttered.

I rode forward, working out my story for the Gondorian soldiers I knew I'd come across during this part of the journey. I was always going to have to cross the Great River. But I knew if I attempted that crossing at Osgiliath, Eldarian's soldiers he'd dispatched would have found me quickly.

I rode Himona over to the only light on this side of the shore, dim embers from a campfire nearly spent. Here three men stood, watching their fire slowly burn out, wishing for beds waiting for them on the island when their overnight shift concluded in a few hours.

"Hail men of Gondor," I said quietly so as not to startle them.

The three men turned to look me over. Two had shaved heads, and the youngest guard had a head of short-cut brown hair. One had a jagged scar on the bottom of his shaven-jaw. None of them were wearing their helmets, but all of the men bore armor typical of the Gondorian Army, with that infamous tree in the center of their chest plates.

Two of the guards carried swords at their side with shields on their backs, and the younger man was learning on a spear.

"Hail maiden of Gondor," the oldest guard said. I saw coals from the fire reflected in his brown eyes looking me over closely. "Such a queer time of night for a lady to be traveling alone. Where are you heading?"

I smiled but did not dismount Himona who had stopped about six or seven feet from the dying fire. I felt a little heat from the coals.

"I'm on my way to see my beloved in Ithilien," I said, mustering up a cheerful smile, the kind that was necessary for women like me to pass through the world of man with as little trouble as possible. "Would you mind giving me a ride across the water on your barge? I'll happily pay your fee."

It wasn't uncommon for soldiers stationed a little further from Minas Tirith to impose sudden fees and taxes that had to be paid in the name of the king for this and that. But it was especially common at river crossings.

The guards looked at one another and shrugged.

"Of course, maiden. We were nearly asleep with boredom. It'll give us something to do to pass the time," the oldest guard said. "My name is Jaeden, night commander of the western shore patrol. This larger man next to me is Buckley, been watching my back for 13 years now. And the youngest recruit over there is Radclyf."

I smiled, genuine this time at their sudden cheer and willingness to help.

Expect the worst, but take joy when the best appears, I thought.

"Well I thank thee," I said, bowing my head. "My name is Gil."

The soldiers smiled and started moving over toward their little barge. It floated in the calm waters next to a newly-built dock.

"How much is the river crossing fare?" I asked.

Buckley spoke up after taking a drink from his flask.

"Ladies don't pay to cross the water, especially ones who give bored soldiers like us something to do," he said.

"My my. It is true what they say. The kindness and charm of every Gondorian soldier is twice that of their counterparts among the Rohirrim," I said, giggling.

That earned a chuckle from the soldiers.

"They've about as much cheer as the horses they ride all day is what I've heard," Radclyf said, pulling a piece of dried meat out of a crate and munching on it while he walked over toward the dock.

"I'll say!" Buckley laughed. "I've got a mountain of horsemen jokes. The best one starts off with two of them going for a swim when —" the soldier was cut off by his superior.

"Enough of that," Jaeden said. "We've got to get this barge ready, or the lady will stay on this side of the shore all night listening to your awful jokes. Trust me, Gil. I'm saving you a world of suffering here."

I laughed as Buckley muttered and loaded up the barge. Himona was a little nervous boarding the smaller craft, but I leaned forward and gently ran my fingers through her mane.

"It'll be okay, girl," I whispered. "Just be patient, and the ride will be over soon."

The men boarded and pushed off from the dock. Sliding through the choppy dark waters of the Anduin, our barge moved slowly toward the eastern shore.

"You're sure you want to cross to the other side, Gil? The outpost has rooms for rent," Radclyf offered.

"I'm sure, thanks. I'm just really eager to see my beloved again. The sooner, the better," I said.

The young soldier smiled and asked, "So, what does your lucky lover do? And where do they do it?"

Calm down. You've rehearsed this for hours, I thought, quietly sighing.

"Woodworker learning their craft from the elves," I said, keeping the lie short and sweet. When one makes the story longer and adds more details, it becomes easier to trip over words and get caught in the fib.

"Oh, those Mirkwood elves are great crafters, they are! We've got one of their boats at the outpost. Our guards sometimes argue over who gets to use it. Best craft on this river," Jaeden said.

A breeze picked up and swayed the barge a little. I had to admit my heart was quivering, and I took a deep breath. There was only a sliver of a moon to light the night sky above. And deep dark water wasn't exactly my favorite setting.

"Hey lads. What are you doing? Surely you can see the lady is waiting for a song," Jaeden said, winking.

Then he took a deep breath and started a verse.

Anduin's fish grow wide and large, the biggest of them, as big as a barge! They eat and sink and grow all day. They swallow your bait and swim on their way.

Buckley took the next verse, his voice a surprisingly high tenor. I started to clap in rhythm, giggling as he sang.

The slimy beasts under the waves are big enough to fill all the caves! Their jaws will eat goblins, men, and orcs. And what do they taste like? All three men screamed, Rotten pork!

Radclyf took the final verse with a nice rich baritone melody.

No line can hold them. They break through nets. The fish of the Anduin, large as they get! Fish in the sea and fish in the lakes, catching them is a piece of cake. But no man fishes the Great River today. The giant bastards always get away.

And all three men joined together again, belting out, Anduin's fish grow wide and large, the biggest of them, as big as a barge!

I laughed so hard at their song that I almost fell off Himona. Bless the horse, she leaned and caught me before I spilled over into the water, which earned her another carrot.

As we came in sight of the other dock with an equally dim campfire, the men sang a shorter song, catching the attention of the two guards stationed there. They seemed amused by the sudden appearance of their friends and waved us over as we approached.

When we were on solid ground, I heard a snort from Himona. She definitely seemed more at ease.

"Are you sure we can't arrange an escort for you?" Radclyf asked before I left.

"No, that's okay. I know the way," I said. "Besides, the great soldiers of Gondor keep these shores so secure, I feel safe traveling alone."

Buckley smiled and said, "Well remind your lover they're lucky to have such a loyal maiden as to ride all through the night just to see them."

"Trust me, I will," I said, laughing and starting northeast. I couldn't see it yet in the dark, but ahead of me was the forest of North Ithilien, where I knew I would find help for my quest.

As we put the Great River behind us, I said to Himona, "Okay, girl. Just a bit further to go."