"What is your plan, my lady?"

Rui and I stood on an outcrop that gave us a wonderful vantage of Dol Guldur, but the surrounding trees concealed us. I sighed, considering. "Not knowing what exactly is there really dampens any tactics."

"Indeed."

"I think we might simply prepare an assault, and when the enemy reveals itself, we retreat and regroup so that our second attack might be successful."

Rui was quiet for moment. "If I may, my lady, I imagine that showing our full hand during the first attack will not bode well for us. The enemy will have time to better prepare as well."

"Hmm, yes," I said absently. "And we haven't enough bodies for a formal battle."

"Have you considered an ambush?"

"I have, but I am beginning to wonder if we have any power against the evil here at all," I stamped my feet as cold crept into my toes. I had not felt cold for many years, and the sensation troubled me. What was it that dwelt here? "An ambush it is," I said briskly. "Or an attempt. I believe that we should gain some idea of what we face."

"I shall spread the word."

"We will march in a half hour."

I led my little band of foot soldiers to the bridge that spanned to the front entrance. I knew it well enough, and I grieved to see the city of my youth in such ruin. Somehow it had deteriorated further since I had seen it last. The footfalls of the soldiers seemed loud to me, but I knew to any mortals the area would be near silent. The wind was stirring, as if a storm brewed just overhead. Though it was midday, the fortress was wreathed in darkness as the night.

A soft, menacing whisper was blown from the front gate with a hissing burst of air, and I started even as I sensed discomfited shifts behind me. "Did you hear that?" I turned to speak to Rui, who stood near me.

"I...felt something," he whispered back, not drawing his eyes from before us.

"It spoke words, you did not hear them?"

"No…"

I faced forward once more, steeling myself. The evil breeze came once more, but I was prepared, and did not flinch even as the sound scraped inside my mind as if with a thousand shards of glass.

"My lady, I believe that this was a poorly thought idea on my part," Rui said. "Whatever is in there - and I know not what it is - is not something that we can defeat. I have never felt such fear in my life."

"No," I agreed. "Our forces are useless here. We will retreat." I could not easily remove my eyes from the gate as we departed, the rest of the soldiers half-running in their terror. But it was not fear that I felt, but loathing, vengeance, and curiosity. What was in there, and why was I not affected as the others were?

In my waking dreams that night I saw a vision that had been blurred to me before. I felt as if the scene had always been present in my mind, but it had been kept out of reach by some power, and had been kept in the background, away from focus to keep me unaware. But now it suppressed every other thought in my mind with a heavy power. Two trees, one piercingly silver and the other blindingly gold, intermingling on a grassy knoll. I knew, even as my heart was filled with the comforting feeling of their very presence, what exactly I was seeing, though I wondering how I could see them. I had enough knowledge of history to know that these trees had been long destroyed. And I also knew how the Firstborn privileged to lay eyes on these trees were blessed.

Erulissé, Erulissé…

I was pulled into the present with a jolt and an immediate knowing. I was blessed.

The moon was shining brightly through the door of my tent, bestowing upon me silver light as I armed myself. I would not call for a guard. This was my fight, my duty, and my calling. I would do this alone.

I exited my tent through the back, skirting through the trees in silence to avoid the eyes of the guards on duty. They were sitting on either side of the fire, huddled over as if trying to protect themselves against the darkness. A poor safety tactic indeed.

The wind stilled completely as I crossed the bridge into the fortress once more. Pressure was building in my ears and on my shoulders, but I ignored it and continued my trek. Before passing through the gate, I paused to nock an arrow onto the string of my Galadrim bow. Confident I might be, and prepared I certainly was, but not so much that I would forget to protect myself against an unexpected attack.

But there was nothing and no one to be found. I wandered the corridors of the palace, now overgrown with thorns and covered in a thick black substance. I recognized the rooms as I passed them, and I hardened my heart against the pure sadness of seeing my once-home in ruins. I was angry, and I was going to use this anger. I gave up on the palace, and instead went into a courtyard underneath the grey sky. Dawn was approaching, I supposed, but to me it meant little.

At once a whoosh of wind and terror swept over me, nearly knocking me to the ground.

Erulissé…

The voice from before! I recognized the name it spoke, as garbled and twisted as it was in the language of evil. I lifted my bow and aimed at a curved arch that led into what had been the main city. A darkness was gathering there, and to my intense astonishment a figure stepped from it; a black-armored warrior whose helm snarled at me, and it lifted a sword. I loosed an arrow, but it passed straight through the figure's neck as if stirring nothing but air. An earthly scream passed its lips, and with impossible speed it rushed towards me, and before I could react, its sword sliced through my bow. Then it settled on my neck.

As fast as this monster was, my own quickness would not be outmatched. Even as I felt the cold steel press against my skin, I drew my own sword. With a clang! the two blades met, and my foe was forced away from me.

"You must tell me," I said, gathering courage from the act of speaking. Somehow it made me feel more in control of myself. "Why an apparition would have an actual sword." It hissed at me, and I entered into a defensive position, ready to strike. The figure stood for a moment, apparently measuring my threat, and then its form dissipated into the darkness. Unfair! I had no desire to play games "Fight me!" I bellowed. "Stand now as I challenge you!"

No response. A chill wind sent shriveled bracken across the stones. I started as a pebble was swept pass my leg, making a resounding clink on the armored greave that echoed thinly. I shuddered. Then at once it appeared again, rushing towards me from my left with its unnatural speed, and I turned to meet it.

It would have been a fine match, were it not for the creature's blatant disregard for battle etiquette. But evil was never one for following rules, I mused to myself. We parried and blocked in turn, forced one way and another, using the entire courtyard as the arena. The longer we fought, the more I felt my own potential mortality bearing down me. This...ghost was no mortal. It did not slow, and it did not tire. I would, eventually, make a mistake.

You neglect to guard under your arm while you strike, I remembered Thranduil telling me long ago. But my arms were growing strangely heavy. With a heave I pushed the creature away from me, breathing heavily. It stepped back only a few paces, and then rushed me again. But I was ready, and I lifted my leg just before it reached me and kicked the figure square in the chest, and it fell.

"And yet arrows are useless?" I panted, expecting no answer from the figure and getting none. "What exactly is the nature of your powers?" The creature stood to its full height, though it did not move towards me. Hatred burned in me, for the arrogance of this foul thing. I was frustrated I made no progress against it, I was angry that it acted as if I had no strength against it, and for once, I feared that I had met my match. "I will fight you," I said, loud and clear. "Until one of us perishes."

The darkness seemed to shrink for a moment, and then without a sound it disappeared entirely, its shadows evaporating into the chill wind. I could have screamed, and with the intention oblige so that this creature would know exactly how determined I was, but I did not get the chance. The breath was driven from my body as I felt my feet lift from the ground. A moment of pure confusion slowed my mind, and I looked down to see what exactly was causing this odd sensation.

The tip of a blade stuck out through my armor, its red stain the only color against the dark scene. My blood? It would seem so, as my body was finally catching up enough for pain to enter my every vein, that every particle in my body might know the agony spreading from my chest.

A scraping sound, and the blade withdrew and I was dropped to the ground, my legs crumpling underneath me as I pitched forward. I winced as the sound of my armor crashing to the stone ground multiplied against the stone walls. I had to made some manifestation of my pain or else it would consume me, and a strangled cry was stopped in my throat. I could only feel a wet, bubbling stream leave my parted lips. If it was this bad, it would be over soon enough.

Stupid, stupid servants of evil!

But there was no point in bitterness against my enemy now. Its job was done, and it was apparently satisfied enough to leave me be, for I was alone in every sense of the concept. I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes. I had known even as my vow was made weeks ago that this was to be my end. I was ready, now, to find myself in a better place. Yes. I was ready.

A few moments later I groaned, half in pain and half in frustration. Could it not have killed me properly? This waiting was far worse than any terrible nightmare. Numbness had spread now across my entire body, and I felt rather light headed. Lack of pain to be thankful for, then.

A memory then came to my mind; a distant recollection that I had considered insignificant at the time it occurred, and it settled in my mind slowly with all its glowing goodness. Belegorn and Legolas still were babes, characterized by the common cheerfulness of their age, and Thranduil was in the habit of responding to their happiness with generous smiles and laughter. On this particular occasion, he play wrestled with Legolas on a thick woollen rug near our fire even as the chilly winds of winter threatened to enter our cozy scene from the bolted balcony doors. Belegorn had been fussy due to something or other, the reason quite escaped me, but his wailing tugged at my heartstrings and I obliged in comforting him the best way a mother could. We were wrapped together in my shawl, and I held him tight and sang to him a sweet tune.

He quieted, and during my soft singing Thranduil and Legolas had ceased their play and were still; Legolas sitting on his father's lap in a tender embrace. Contentment had filled my bones then, and with the aches of bruises forming where my armor was pressing into my skin, I wished I could return to that moment, that singular time when everything should have stopped that my family could live in love and peace forever.

There is a chance of happiness again, I told myself to stave the consuming despair. You will see them again. My body was shaking, and my heart rate showed even as I began to panic. And so I turned, as I often did, to what most brought me solace. Though my voice was beyond use, a melody slipped into my mind as a golden light, comforting and whole.

I must leave

To cross this sea;

The love you gave

Is all I take with me.

I have fallen.

And you cannot reach me.

You never left my mind,

Not once, not ever…

A/N: I can't decide if this is too drawn out or too brief. You decide. And in my defense, it has been in the plan for a long time for Caradel to be killed by a nazgul. I guess if she's silly enough to think she can fight a ghost, she deserves to be killed by one. Yep, and there is my heartless verdict.

p.s. This is not the end.