A/N: Thank you to all of you who are following this story, including those who read the original beginning and new readers, as well: Calllisto, Elleniel, Tibblets, crawler123, forever fanfiction1999, and masterdude94. And to my first reviewer, forever fanfiction1999, thanks again for your encouragement. I look forward to writing and posting more. If you read, please review - every small comment can be helpful to us writers : )
And one last thank you to Levade, my first ever and wonderful Beta reader!
Gandalf had not exaggerated when he described their upcoming journey as fierce. He had somehow managed to obtain a mount, though Rahlsma was not sure how and did not ask. They left the great city and headed north a short time on the North-South Road, before breaking away to cross the plains of Eastemnet. As both they and their horses were well rested, they pushed themselves hard, only stopping when it could not be avoided, and finally dismounting to rest well after dark.
They did not bother to make much of a camp, nor did they risk a fire. Rahlsma detached her bedroll and extra blanket from her saddle, wrapping the latter tightly around her as she sat and bit into some dried meat she had bought back in Minas Tirith. She offered some to her companion, but he waved her off and began to smoke instead. Too tired to prepare her own pipe, she finished the small piece of meat and followed it with a nibble of Lembas bread from her bag before laying down.
Her body was exhausted, but this was nothing new. Her mind, however, was still at work, trying desperately to piece together the fragments of information she had learned over the recent years. The search for the strange creature, Gollum, who had something to do with Bilbo Baggins, who had come to stay in Rivendell around the time Aragon first began the hunt. And stories of rings and the Witch-King and ancient blades forged to kill him. As tired as she was, she found it difficult to sleep. Absentmindedly, she reached below her shirt and fiddled with her necklace.
"A token from a suitor?" Gandalf asked, somewhat teasingly.
She dropped the necklace immediately and placed her hand behind her head, instead. "I have so many," she joked in response, keeping her eyes on the clouds and stars above.
Unseen by Rahlsma, the wizard studied her in the dark, wondering, but remaining silent. Finally, he said, "You have grown much since I first met you. Your training with Elladan and Elrohir seems to have benefitted you well."
"They were tough but good teachers." She closed her eyes. "That was so long ago now. Almost ten years, I think."
They were quiet for a time before Gandalf said, "I discovered this morning that I am still in the habit of checking that my bag of pipeweed is still on my person when you and I part company."
There was no response, and he assumed she had fallen asleep. But then she rolled to her side, facing away from him, and mumbled, "That is wise. Not all things can be changed."
He chuckled, and she let the soft sound ease her mind into sleep.
They were up with the sun the next day and were continuing their journey in hardly any time at all. Still pushing themselves and their horses hard, they knew they did not have to cover as much ground as the day before to arrive in Lothlorien before nightfall. This they did with no problems and were brought to Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, who had been foretold of their arrival.
"Less than a fortnight has passed since our grandsons travelled this way, bringing news of a successful quest and tidings that Mithrandir may very well be visiting soon," the Lady announced, her arms open in welcome.
The wizard and woman both bowed their heads, Rahlsma never growing accustomed to Galadriel's mysterious voice and striking beauty, even though she and the twins had stayed there not a month ago during their search for Aragorn. They raised their heads, but Rahlsma tried to avoid looking straight into the Elf's eyes. Nevertheless, she heard the voice in her head, knowing the powerful Lady was likewise speaking to Mithrandir in secret.
"Because of your recent tasks, you have not killed an orc in some time…you long for it like men hunger for bread…I can feel the twitching of your restless fingers… but worry not, soon you will have the opportunity to slay more orcs and dark creatures than even you have ever imagined…"
Rahlsma listened intently, her eyes on the ground at Galadriel's feet, her hands tightening into fists.
"A great time of testing awaits you, Rahlsma, and the most difficult evil to defeat is that which comes from unexpected sources."
The woman took a deep, slow breath as she wondered about this approaching evil. A natural skeptic, she had once scoffed at the idea of prophecies and foresight. But she had spent seven formative years in the Last Homely House, the final of which marking the beginning of her formal weapon and scouting training, and she had accepted long ago that some Elves had gifts she could neither understand nor learn.
Rahlsma realized that the voice in her head had ceased and Galadriel was finishing speaking their welcome aloud. Celeborn then requested Gandalf join the two of them for a private meeting, gesturing for the woman to instead follow an Elf wearing a long, silver dress. She did so without argument, somewhat irritated for being excluded, but mostly relieved to have a little quiet time to herself.
After being shown where she and the Wizard would be staying the night, their horses already nearby and grazing, Rahlsma dropped her gear and moved towards the small stream she knew to be close by. Squatting near its edge, she loosened the thin, leather armguards she wore between her elbow and wrist and slipped them off. She pushed up her sleeves, then, rubbing the cold water over the skin of her lower arms and hands before splashing some onto her face.
A fire was already burning when she returned to their area, so she sat and let it dry her skin before pulling down her sleeves and tying her armguards back into place over them. Before long, a dish of food was brought to her, which she happily accepted and immediately began to eat. There was still no sign of Gandalf when she had finished, so she dug in her pack for the small leather pouch that held her whetstone and a small vial of oil.
She was almost finished sharpening her second sword when the Wizard finally arrived. Ignoring him, she slid the slightly curved blade into its sheath and laid it with the other at her side, then stared into the fire. He slowly lowered himself onto the ground a few feet from her, groaning as he did so. The following quiet felt uncomfortable.
"I expect you have been given dinner?" he finally asked. She nodded but still did not look in his direction. The silence began to settle once more, but its heaviness felt cumbersome to him. So he attempted to throw it off. "If there is something you would like to say to me, Rahlsma, I would prefer you do so and be done with it."
The woman moved her head slightly to face him, the fire flashing momentarily in her eyes. Any mortal man would have been frightened at the intensity of her stare, but Gandalf was not and matched her gaze with his own.
"I was furious, you know," she began.
"That you were not also asked to meet with our hosts?"
She shook her head slightly. "When Aragorn left to search for Gollum. I felt as though you had…taken him from me."
Her eyes returned to the fire but Gandalf's remained on her.
"I can understand why you would feel that way." He paused. "I do not regret the decision, though I regret that it caused you pain."
"I never said pain," she was quick to point out.
"My mistake," he answered, though his tone was no longer apologetic.
The silence, less bothersome now, returned yet again, and they listened to the popping of the fire and the sounds of singing somewhere nearby, before Rahlsma disrupted it.
"I want to know why," she said. Then, more firmly, "I deserve to know."
He sighed. "I was hoping this would all come to nothing, but it does not appear we will be so fortunate." He folded his long fingers together and set them in his lap. "I assume you remember the story of Bilbo finding his ring?"
"Of course," she answered. "He found it in a cave, then escaped the creature Gollum with riddles in the dark. He won by asking it to guess what he had in his pocket."
"Correct, though a crucial detail was omitted; the ring was originally Gollum's. He had had it in his possession for a very long time, in fact, and was greatly distressed by its loss."
Rahlsma's face grew curious. "Would he try to find Bilbo? Surely he is safe after all of these years…and in Rivendell, of all places."
"If the ring was just a personal trinket, yes. But I fear it may prove much more than that."
"A ring of power, you mean? I thought the Elves of old only made the Three. And no Elf now speaks of their whereabouts…though glances and quiet comments over the years have made me wonder…" she let her thought hang in the air, exposed for Gandalf to ponder.
He paused before answering, searching the woman's eyes. "They made many lesser ones as they learned the craft but were eventually guided to create the Seven and the Nine. But Celebrimbor formed the Three without their instructor's knowledge."
"Instructor?"
"Sauron," Gandalf answered, his bushy eyebrows raised high.
"But what difference does that make now?" Rahlsma asked, her frustration growing. The more she was learning, the less it all seemed to come together to make any kind of sense. "Sauron was destroyed during the Last Alliance. And what does any of this have to do with Bilbo's ring?"
The wizard took a deep breath. "Sauron was defeated, not destroyed, when Isildur cut the One Ring from his hand. The ring that he had forged in Mount Doom in an attempt to control all the others and their bearers, enslaving all free people's beneath his rule. A ring that ensnared all who laid eyes on it in lust for its power. A band of gold that could make mortals have unnaturally long life…and disappear."
"Bilbo's party…" Rahlsma barely whispered. "A strange coincidence, though, and nothing more. Something so powerful could not have just been misplaced and forgotten for the better part of an age, could it? It is impossible that the two rings are the same."
"Extremely unlikely, yes, but not impossible. I have done much research on the subject and believe, unfortunately, that this may indeed be the case." Rahlsma's eyes widened almost imperceptibly at this statement, but he continued. "I think I have discovered a way to know for sure. I was planning, in fact, to depart for where the ring is currently located, but then you arrived with news of Gollum…"
"And he would know that Bilbo had the ring," she finished.
"Precisely." Gandalf leaned over and placed another log into the fire. "And now, this old man needs a rest from your many questions, if you would be so kind to allow it."
Rahlsma nodded and rose to prepare her sleeping pallet. By the time she laid down in it, Gandalf was smoking his pipe, leaning against a nearby tree. Lothlorien was peaceful, and the woman was looking forward to sleeping well. Tiredness grew within her and spread throughout her body and mind.
"It seems fair that I should now answer at least one question for you," she said sleepily, as if speaking to the forest around her.
She did not see her companion's small smile as he removed the pipe from his mouth and asked, "What is the origin of your necklace?"
A lengthy pause in the dark. And then, "It was given to me by my father."
