Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings or the Silmarillion, if I do have it, you won't even know who the hot elf lords that are roaming in middle-earth, as they will be within my closet. Especially Maglor and Glorfindel.

Note: I haven't even read the book, so this would be probably a bit of movie-centric. Though I tried to look for some other fiction that has information/timeline so that I can make it more book-ish. At least a little. Enjoy! :D

And thank you: ShatteredKunai, PureAngelEyes, and Jedi Padfoot, for reviewing, and some others for making this your favorites. And sorry for the late update! Not having inspiration for him, but for my other stories at the moment. ._.;;

... And now it was edited. My mind was jumpy by the time I published this a few days ago... ._.;;

Ashyia Francis Belladonna: Eheh.. ^^;; That's probably because of English was not my native language... Thanks for pointing that out! I'll try to make it better.

Ch 5

Now better acquainted to each other, Strider had left earlier and bought a small pony for their journey. And now it was in the first light that the six of them went into the wilderness, as they wanted nothing to do with the Nazgul, but delivering the Ring into the hands of the elves, as the hobbits had said, to Imladris.

And it was within their journey towards the Imladris, that Eventide had found a small amusement by answering each and every question given and every discussion by the young hobbits.

"So how old are you?" One whose name was Peregrin Took had asked. He had taken an interest towards Eventide, as much as Samwise Gamgee had. Though, he was not as polite as Frodo Baggins' gardener. Much as a child he was.

"Pippin!" Another whose name was Meriadoc Brandybuck hissed. "That's impolite! Never, ever ask a woman her age." She had learned that both of them were cousins, as Pippin was also Frodo's cousin. They happen to be the most mischievous pair in the Shire, she had heard.

"But Merry! Don't you ever wonder about elves? I mean, even if lady Eventide looked like she just passed her majority – which I don't even know when for the elves – we can't predict the age of elves like her!" Pippin said.

"The age for elves to reach their majority is in their fiftieth years old, Pippin." She said, before an argument broke between them. "But even then, in their fiftieth age, they will still be called as a very young adult."

"A v-very young a-adult? In their fi-fiftieth-" Merry stuttered, in disbelief of the fact.

"Yes indeed. In their fiftieth year, a very young adult." She said, almost smiling as she saw many of their disbelieving faces. "You may or may not believe it, but it is the truth. I believe you know that elves are immortal?"

"Yes but-" Pippin started.

"-it's unbelievable…" Merry ended. Both of them were wide-eyed.

"It is not unbelievable however, but common for the elves." Strider had entered the conversation. "Now if you still have the energy to talk, you should have been able to pick up your pace. We may never know when the Ring-wraiths will go out for the ring-bearer again."

Eventide had to hide her smile of amusement at Strider's small scolding. Very similar to his father, he was. No more exchange of words did they have during their walk, but they do talk of some topics within their rest, or at least those who had asked questions was not Eventide as she knew of the Shire-folk, one of her men were guarding the Shire and reported to her once in every few days.

It was a few days later that they have reached the Weathertop. Aragorn had decided to scout with the half-elven. Aragorn towards where they'll go the next hobbits were strong enough to go again – which was supposed to be tomorrow – to look for possible threat to themselves were they went there, while Eventide went into where they just went, to cover up their trails in case of Nazgul was able to see their trails as good as Rangers of North did. One thing she knew was she would never want to try to figure out more of Nazguls other than they were wraiths –that were slaves for the Ring, they were once Kings of Men – and that their blades would create another wraith out from their victims. They are better slain rather than studied. She was sure that all of the elves will agree with her.

It was one moment when she covered the trails of footsteps left by the hobbits, that she thought, no, she picked up a smell of smokes rising in the air. She quickly looked towards where she had come from, and narrowed her eyes. Were the hobbits usually did not think before they act? Smokes were rising from the Weathertop. Quickly and silently, she ran towards the Weathertop. There will be no point to cover up their trails had they openly create something that would take the attention of the Nazgul.

She can only hope that the Nazgul did not notice of the smoke and come there, as she won't let another to die while she can help it.

But her hopes had been wrong.

As she arrived back in the Weathertop, she saw the 4 hobbits cornered by the Nazgul – whose backs were facing her – she had hoped not to come for the smokes earlier. Muttering some curses to herself, she unsheathed her own sword and ran towards the hobbits. Just as she passed the Nazgul, one of them slashed their sword towards her neck, and she had used the momentum; it was almost as if they were moving slowly, to slide under the sword. She let her legs to skid, and she used her hands to cover her head, and the sword she had to not touch the ground to stop her from sliding. And her back was facing the Nazgul that intended to slice her. The distance from her head and the sword was very near, and the Nazgul cut her hair instead of head.

She would curse if the situation was not as dire as this. Cursing will not help. Instead, she gritted her teeth in annoyance. The damned Nazgul cut the back of her back-length hair into chin-length!

Calm.

She must be calm and not let her anger get the best of her.

She made a quick survey around for the place all of them were. The floor was sturdy as well as old; she would not be able to break the floor for the Nazgul to fall, and the risk if she was able to, was for the hobbits and her to fall with Nazgul. Breaking the floor was not it. She only has a sword, as well as hobbits with their own swords that were given by Strider. They could not fight, she had seen their face reaction when Strider gave them each swords, awe and horror. Fighting was out of question.

Debris of the broken building around them. Perfect.

"Go behind the debris, and try to roll the big ones or throw some small rocks towards the Nazgul!" She had commanded them, her voice was almost frantic. After all, who will be unnerved to fight many Nazguls at once while protecting a few others who can't fight? Not to mention their swords will be able to make their victims into wraiths with only a cut. She knew that she won't be able to fight them alone. After all, she was just a scout, and moved better to assassinate orcs from the shadows, without their notice. And orcs were much denser in techniques to kill rather than Nazgul.

She only hope that Aragorn – who was better of a fighter than she was – would come before anyone was cut by the swords of the Ring-wraiths and not cut, as he was an important Man and her charge given by his parents upon their deaths.

And thus her tactics to distract the Nazgul until he come or they served their purpose. Hopefully it was the former.

Her sword was only an ordinary sword, yet it has served her well ever since it was first presented to her, from the time of Arathorn. It was not special, nor was it forged by neither elves nor dwarves. What use had a century-year-old sword against the dark swords of Nazgul? Nothing, she had known. But, what would dark react to light; a fire?

She had not any torch, or anything to create light for that matter, her sword will not be effective, but maybe, just maybe, she can fend them until Strider comes - hopefully with something that burns - to create light.

As it screeched hard as she point her sword into one of them, and the dance between darkness and fire – which was getting weaker as the time goes; Ring-wraiths and female half-elven have begun in the middle of the rocky field of Weathertop, in the middle of night. And as only an individual, she had not the strength to repel all of the Nazgul from the hobbits. She was not invulnerable, and this was a fight for survival – in hopes for her not to be even cut by the swords of Nazgul – only by using her agility and a sword, with no armor except for her cloak – which can be used to be a distraction in a fight.

-0-

Aragorn went immediately towards the Weathertop, as he saw the smoke rising from the general direction of it. He knew that his guardian would be early in there before him, as she was after all, nearer to the said place than him, as she covered the tracks that were not really far they leave earlier. He only carefully went into the direction he intended for him, Eventide and his charges to go. As the path of Rivendell was really, a difficult place to look for; 'twas no wonder that Rivendell has been the home for elves for hundreds of years. Even for him who lived there in his early years before his majority and went back and forth, it was still difficult to find. He has to check his path twice and probably more just to go to the right way towards Rivendell.

As it took quite many moments for him to arrive – but thankfully, not hours – he had heard the sound of sword clashed against sword; he had seen fire dancing in the top of the Weathertop on the way there. Probably of Eventide fighting some Nazgul. He went into the campsite earlier, and was thankful that the fire was still flickering, albeit weakly. He took one of the thick branches and made a big fire in the edge of it, before running towards the stairs where it leads towards the top of the Weathertop to help Eventide, in hopes that no one had hurt from the Nazgul's blade.

He saw though, that one of the four Nazgul had went away from Eventide's fight, and went after the Ring-bearer as he leapt into the top of the Weathertop. As he ran into Frodo's direction – when Sam and the others were thrown, and Pippin was thrown towards Eventide – he knew he was too late to prevent it. Eventide - who saw Pippin flying towards her as it was from the Nazgul's backs he came - forced herself run forward while swinging her sword into one of the Nazgul for a distraction, risking herself to be slashed by the three Nazgul in order to catch Pippin. With an 'oof' and some slashing which went around her at the momentum, she noticed not if she was slashed, all that matters for her was to bring Pippin out of the Nazgul range - possibly to the place where either Merry or Sam was thrown. However for Frodo...

Frodo was stabbed, near his heart by a Nazgul; and not any Nazgul, both rangers knew. It was the Witch King who stabbed Frodo, and his blade will be poison to Frodo, making him a wraith if he could not help it. Aragorn ran towards the Nazgul, with a burning branch in one hand, his sword in the other. Of course, it ran from him as the fire is brighter and brighter than the what-used-to-be-sword of Eventide's – which grows dim.

It was not long after, that the Nazgul retreated.