A/N: There are three reasons for the slight delay on this chapter...one being that I almost had it completed, and Fanfiction decided to glitch out and delete ALL OF MY WORK. It took a minute to bounce back and get up the motivation to rewrite it. Haha!

Two, once I got it rewritten, I hated it (and so did the first reader who was unfortunate enough to catch it before I took it down...sorry to those of you who got the email that the chapter was up.) so I decided to start over again.

The third reason is that it's been an extremely busy couple of weeks since MY BOOK WAS RELEASED! If you like my fanfiction, you should definitely check out my original book Line of Kavanagh. It's available through Amazon currently, and we're working with Barnes & Noble and Books A Million to get it on their shelves. It's an adventure story with a medieval/steampunk twist. Lots of fun to be had there. I hope you'll check it out, and if you do, please let me know what you think!

Anyways, there's my plug for today. On with the story that you're here to read!

~#*IT*#~

I have got to tell these people about elevators," Shadow grumbled. "I had quite forgotten about all these god-forsaken stairs..."

Caras Galadhon, the City of Trees, was more grand and beautiful than anything most of them had ever laid eyes upon. The trees, if they could even be called that, were magnificent pillars as big around as an entire street in Hobbiton. All throughout the gold-laden branches were silver lights that twinkled like the stars in the night sky above the canopy. It was in their boughs that the buildings were housed on gigantic flets that the elves called talans. To access these buildings, one had to climb broad, elaborate ladders.

At the top of the ladder the Fellowship was currently climbing stretched a talan so large it could have held a great ship from the sea. In the center of the space was a house larger than most of the great Halls of Men. The Hobbits milled around nervously, taking in the sight. Aragorn was just moving to usher them into the house when a hand caught his arm. He turned and found himself staring into the black abyss of Shadow's hood.

"Shadow, what is it?" Aragorn looked at him with concern.

"Absolutely nothing," Shadow was practically giddy. "You're about to witness history, my friend. Make sure to pay attention and appreciate it."

"What are you talking about?" Aragorn laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"There are going to be a lot of old wounds healed in that magnificent house," Shadow clapped him on the back.

"If you say so," Aragorn had no idea what the dark man meant, but Shadow's current mood was more than a little amusing.

Once inside, Shadow watched as each member of the Fellowship was greeted by name. Celeborn did the speaking while Galadriel stood, silently surveying each member of the company. She had remained rather stoic, gracing them with only a glance of her clear eyes, but when Shadow entered, she turned her elegant head to view him full on. Shadow paused, probably returning her gaze, Aragorn thought, and shook his head ever so slightly as Galadriel's brow furrowed. After a moment, she turned back to the conversation at hand.

"Nine, there are before us," Celeborn's voice resounded through the hall. "Yet the reports spoke of ten travellers from Imladris."

"Gandalf has fallen into shadow," Galadriel's voice was clear and low. She looked searchingly at each member of the company before her. All eyes lowered in sorrow.

Shadow listened as Aragorn told of the Ring's journey to Rivendell. He spoke of their road to the south and the stumbling path through the dark mountains. He told them of Gandalf's fall.

Upon learning of Gandalf's fate, Lord Celeborn, in a fit of grief, claimed that if he would have known what had happened, he never would have allowed Gimli to enter. Aragorn looked frantically over to Shadow, but the Jedi was watching Gimli, waiting.

When Galadriel reprimanded her husband's harsh words and spoke, instead, beautiful images of the grandeur of the Halls under the Mountains, Shadow smiled, watching the anger and hate melt away from Gimli's eyes like the ice on the high mountains.

This.

This was the moment he'd waited for. He'd watched the fighting between the races of Elves and Dwarves for centuries. It had caused his heart to ache, and he knew that this moment was the beginning of the end to that heartache. He glanced at Legolas. The Elf looked at Gimli as though seeing him for the very first time. Shadow smiled again, silent tears streaming down his face.

~#*ITS*#~

Once the Fellowship had settled in, Shadow went alone with Galadriel. In their quarters, she and Celeborn gingerly saw to the wounds he'd accumulated thus far on the journey. When they'd finished, Shadow felt rejuvenated. Though they'd been seen to long ago, the injuries sustained during the battles with the Nazgul had continued to drain him, weakening him. Galadriel had lifted the last remnants of the spell completely, though, and Shadow now felt the full life of the Force flowing through his whole body once again.

Celeborn excused himself quietly from the room. Shadow stood and stretched, relishing the feeling of health he'd not experienced since the very beginning of their quest. He pulled his outer traveling clothes on over the tight-fitting body suit and the sleeveless shirt of mithril rings that were hidden beneath the black.

"Are you going to scold me now?"

"You are expecting a scolding?" Galadriel tilted her graceful head to the side.

"It seems that everyone wants to give me one recently," Shadow muttered as he shuffled over to where his cloak and hood were laid across a chair.

"I think that you are doing what you must," Galadriel said quietly. "In these times especially I can find no fault in that."

Shadow straightened. He turned to look at the beautiful Elf queen, struggling subtly to fasten the brooch at his throat.

"You're serious," Shadow's surprise was evident in his voice.

"I am," Galadriel stood and glided across the room. She reached out and easily fastened the white-gold clasp on Shadow's cloak. She allowed her fingers to rest on Starkaven's crest for a few brief seconds.

"You are Starkaven's defender," she whispered sorrowfully. "Starkaven and the other kingdoms in the Grey Havens are the defenders of the portals. I know that you guard the way to Valinor, but I know not what other lands and worlds you protect. You must do what you must in order to protect what has been charged to you."

Shadow only stared at Galadriel.

"The power that grows in Mordor must be stopped," she stepped back, looking Shadow straight in his hidden eyes. "If you feel you must be here to personally ensure that it is stopped, I cannot fault you."

"You're the first person to actually see that my way," Shadow smiled warily, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Perhaps," Galadriel smiled darkly in return. "But I would ask that you be more careful with yourself. Challenging the Nazgul, even for one as powerful as you, leaves terrible scars...both seen and unseen."

"I'll do my best," Shadow said darkly. He then chuckled after a moment's thought. "At least I know that if I run into them again, I've got you here to glaze over the scars."

"That, my dear Shadow, isn't funny," Galadriel smiled in spite of the threatening tone in her voice.

She added something further in the ancient Elvish tongue, and just as she did, the door of the room opened. Aragorn stood silently at the room's entrance, but his eyes were wide- as though he'd been struck with a sudden realization.

"Well, hello," Shadow laughed.

"Uh," Aragorn cleared his throat as though remembering why he'd shown up there in the first place. "Lord Celeborn said you were finished having your wounds tended. I thought I'd check on you and see if you'd be joining us for dinner."

"Thank you for that," Shadow's voice was appreciative. "I'm afraid I won't be able to join you this time, however. I have a message to deliver. I'll return later this evening."

Shadow nodded to Aragorn, bowed to Galadriel, and with a step forward, he vanished.

~#*ITS*#~

"Shadow's alright, isn't he?" Sam questioned.

The Fellowship sat gathered around a series of beautiful fountains at the foot of the Mallorn trees.

"He's fine," Aragorn sat with his head buried in his hands. He'd returned from checking on their friend pale and shaken and had barely spoken since.

"Then why do you look so frightened...?" Merry's voice quaked slightly.

"I wouldn't say I'm frightened," Aragorn looked up. His features softened into a grim smile. "It's just..." he paused, unsure of exactly what to say.

"Something Galadriel said just as I came in the room where they were talking," he paused again. "it troubles me..."

All of the companions leaned in closer.

"I think I have finally figured out who Shadow is."

Shocked, the fellowship looked at one another. Aragorn didn't seem at all pleased by his discovery.

"Are you planning to ask him if you're right?" Boromir questioned.

"You wouldn't have to," Frodo said slowly. "Sam can see his face, can't you, Sam?"

The sandy haired Hobbit looked as though he was being asked to give the Ring straight to Sauron. His face grew pale, and he shook his head vigorously.

"No," Aragorn stated simply. The gravity of what he knew was heavy on him, and it was evident in the pallor and expression on his face. "If I am right...and I have never prayed more fervently to be wrong..." Aragorn rubbed his forehead. "If I am right, it is with the greatest wisdom that Shadow keeps his identity hidden from us. It is better that I remain simply guessing."

Sam looked slightly relieved, but the rest of the Fellowship looked disappointed.

"Put it out of your minds," Aragorn said finally. "As I said, it is better that we not know. It is a heavy burden- one that has struck a deep fear in my heart that I will try, now, to forget. I hope you're strong enough to carry it, Sam."

The little Hobbit nodded firmly.

"Well, I, for one, will just be happy when he's back," Gimli said gruffly. "I don't really care what's under that hood. He's our friend, and the Company isn't complete without him."

"Agreed," Legolas smiled.

Aragorn looked at the strange duo where they sat next to one another on a bench. Shadow had been right. History was made during that one conversation. If Aragorn was right, it wouldn't be the last time that the world as they knew it would shift on this quest. He only hoped that they were ready.

~#*ITS*#~