Radir sprang to the road, bow drawn as the sound of hooves drew close. When the horse rounded the corner in the path into his view, he saw it bore no rider. The animal snorted, coming to a halt in front of him. It had been ridden hard, and bloody foam had crusted on its muzzle and neck. The elf held his hand aloft, daring the pitiful creature to approach. The gelding limped forward with trepidation, and breathed in the stranger's scent.
"Where is your rider?" He asked the animal in the common tongue. He knew the animal would not understand him regardless of the language he used, it was clearly not an elvish horse. The gelding limped off the path and began to graze in the grass. "I thought as much."
The horse was gone when Daeril finally awakened. It was unlike her to sleep through anything, let alone an animal of that size taking off. She wearily got to her feet, body aching all over from being thrown from the horse. Gathering what little strength she had left, she took to the path, following the tracks of her traitorous mount.
At daybreak she came upon three elves on horseback, guardsmen of Rivendell. A dark haired elf on a large grey horse came forward, right hand raised in greeting. She returned the hand signal, stopping in her path.
"Gi Suilon," Spoke the elf. "Istog peded edhellen?"
"Mae govannen," Daeril spoke. "Le chenion. Im Daeril Rýndirien."
"I am Radir," He spoke in the common tongue. "A lone horse came through at dawn. I assume you are the missing rider?"
"Aye, that would be me."
"What brings you to Rivendell, Dunadan?"
"I seek refuge. I was pursued for days by riders. They ambushed me last night and drove me in to the river before they turned away."
"Pursued? What for?"
"I do not know. They came to the Sarn Ford a fortnight ago, and slaughtered several of my people."
The elf's eyes widened.
"Come, I will bring you to Lord Elrond."
As with all things pertaining to elves, the Last Homely House had not changed since last Daeril had been there, nor had its master. Lord Elrond had always been welcoming to the Dunedain, however this surprise visit seemed to be bad tidings for him. Daeril recounted her tale, starting from the night of the attack on Sarn Ford. It was when she got to Bree that Elrond truly looked alarmed.
"Aragorn was not in Bree?"
"I did not see him, but we did not tarry there long. The black riders came the night before us, looking for someone called Baggins."
Elrond called to Radir, who stood waiting by the door, in Quenya. Daeril only knew a few words in the dialect, but the tone was all she needed to know that what she said was of great importance. Radir nodded, and left the room.
"Who are the riders? Or what are they?"
"They are the Nazgul. The nine kings. Do you know of them?"
"Of course, but… they are long dead."
"Neither living, nor dead. It was not for lack of strength or skill that none of you could defeat them."
The door opened, and Radir returned with a golden haired elf.
"Glorfindel," Elrond spun to greet him. "Gather your scouts. The nine know of the hobbit and his path. We must find him, and Aragorn."
The other elf nodded, and hastened from the room. Daeril did not understand what was so important about this hobbit, but now she understood why Sarn Ford, which was a direct inlet to the Shire, was so heavily guarded. What did the Nine Kings want with a lowly Halfling?
"My Lord, I would ride with Lord Glorfindel to find them, but my horse is in no condition to go." Daeril offered.
"No, you have ridden far enough. Stay here and rest. Our scouts will find them if they are to be found."
"Why is this halfling so important?" She had not meant to sound so harsh in asking, but having lost a great deal of friends to the Black Riders, she harbored some hard feelings for the hobbit.
"All will be revealed in due time. Go now, Radir will show you to your room."
Daeril kept to herself in Rivendell, mostly sleeping as she finally began to heal from the attack. Her broken arm was useable after a few days of more proper elvish healing, but she was still not fighting fit. There was no news of the outside world for some days, and none of the scouts had returned. That was until Mithrandir came unbidden to the House of Elrond, bearing ill tidings.
The wizard had been five days behind Daeril, reaching Sarn Ford to find the few rangers that remained. Against all odds, Thannor, the Watch Commander, had lived and rallied the other survivors to retake the Ford. The others were dead or the lucky ones, such as she, escaped elsewhere. He did not encounter the Black Riders until they attacked him at Amon Sul around the same time Daeril made her way through the Trollshaws. He was able to drive them away temporarily, but was forced to take a long route to Rivendell to avoid another encounter.
"All of our paths seem to be intertwined, and yet none of us have met upon the road," Gandalf stated, after hearing her record of events. "We can only hope that Glorfindel finds Aragorn and the hobbits before the Nazgul do."
"If I had known I would have not ridden straight for here. Now they know where they are heading."
Despite the elves' affirmations that Elrond's hospitality came without any charge, Daeril could not in conscience stay in Rivendell without paying back somehow. Ladrochan, the stable master, accepted the ranger's aid without complaint. Every morning and evening she fed the horses and cleaned the stables, then saw to the needs of the horse that had come with her from Bree.
The horse was gaining weight in the two weeks he had been in Rivendell, and starting to look far fairer than when he was bought. His coat was growing back where it had been rotted away from rain, and the wounds from flipping himself onto the rocky shoals of the river were mostly healed. Even his mane was beginning to grow enough that it didn't just stick straight up off his neck. Initially Daeril thought him to be an older horse, judging by his physical condition, but Ladrochan confirmed that he was a few years at most. Even his lameness that caused the unsightly paddling was due to poorly maintained feet, which Ladrochan also saw to.
"Watch yourself, or I may just start to like you," Daeril said to the gelding, leading him out to the pasture. He took off bucking and galloping to his new friends on the other side of the pasture once she let him go.
As she returned to the stables, the sound of hooves and bells came from up the path, heading towards her. Soon she could see two gray horses, one being led by a familiar rider.
"Daeril, take Asfaloth," Radir commanded. Daeril ran forward and seized the grey's reins. "I must return to my post. See to him and then come to the main house."
Asfaloth's hide was soaked with sweat, foam drying on his chest, but if he was exhausted he didn't show it. Daeril loosened his girth as they walked, and began unbuckling the breast plate. She tried not to hurry, but knowing that Glorfindel may have arrived set her adrenaline through the roof. Radir had a look of someone who was under stress, so the arrival very well wasn't a good one.
Asfaloth stood in his stall, letting her untack him without moving a single foot. There was something to be said about elvish horses and their perfect behavior. Certain that the horse had been adequately sponged down, brushed, and turned out, Daeril made for the main house.
Gandalf spotted her as soon as she entered the courtyard, and called her to his side.
"Aragorn will be here by nightfall. The hobbit was taken directly to the care of Elrond. They were attacked by the Nazgul and pursued some days ago."
"So they did make it!"
"Yes, more or less," He opened the door to the house of Elrond, Daeril following. "Go to the study and wait, I have asked for Aragorn to be sent there. He will need to know of the losses at Sarn Ford, I believe it best for him to hear it from you."
A/N:
Gi suilon- I greet you
Istog peded edhellen- can you speak Elvish?
Mae govannen- well met
Le chenion. Im Daeril Rýndirien- I understand you. I am Daeril, daughter of Rýndir.