Hello again! So I know I said there would be more action coming your way, and I promise there is. I did have a bit of a harder time with this chapter and it has actually changed the story a bit. Meaning, there is a new chapter that I hadn't planned on coming up next. Unfortunately this new chapter will have to wait a few days, as I will be on an adventure of my own. Your patience will pay off. Fun Fact: The image featured for this story is actually my own drawing that I did many months ago. I was depicting a character I had the pleasure of playing on the stage, which ended up being Death, in a mildly seductive form (no, I did not have a scythe). It just so happens that I did have the honor of dressing a lot like a ringwraith, hooded cloak and all. I might put up a picture of the real thing, but we shall see (privacy issues, yunno?). Anyway, on with the story!

That evening, Isolde was called into the Throne Room. When she entered, she found King Ellesar, Lady Arwen, her father, Eldarion, her Uncle Eomer, Merry, Pippin, and a few unfamiliar faces all talking quietly. They stopped and looked up at her as she peeked through the doorway. She let go of the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, and stepped inside. Every eye was on her as she sat beside her father. Eldarion gave her a quick, reassuring smile, before looking back to the king. Ellesar stood and began to speak.

"Friends, we have come here to answer the threat of a new evil. As you all know, Aglaramarth has woken and is avenging her kind," Isolde squirmed in her chair at the sound of the witch's name. Faramir took notice and eyed her carefully. Ellesar continued.

"We also know that she has been striking ever nearer to Gondor and its surrounding kingdoms. It would appear that we have the upper-hand, as most dark forces of middle earth were wiped out with the destruction of the one ring, but the Queen of the Nine is not to be underestimated. She has been gathering the many thousands of goblins from the mines of the Misty Mountains, as well as whatever other evils she has found along the way," He gestured to Isolde with one hand. "Would you please recount your incident to the council?" She gave a nervous nod and he sat. When she finished, there was a silence. Isolde glanced at the many faces, unsure of their thoughts, before speaking up again.

"She seems to have a great deal of pride. That's the only reason the three of us escaped with our lives. I know she could have killed us with her power alone if she wanted to," Isolde stated confidently. She waited to see if anyone understood where she was going with her explanation. When she saw that they didn't, she continued. "But she didn't. She wants us to be ready for her when we battle, meaning-,"

"She wants us to make the first move." Eldarion stated, enlightened.

"Precisely," Isolde said. She leaned back in her chair, quite pleased with herself. Pippin gave her an impressed look.

"Well that's good then, isn't it?" Merry asked. "That gives us time to prepare ourselves for the attack," Faramir shook his head, frowning.

"While it may keep her at bay, she won't hold out forever. She will keep picking away at our borders; testing us, until we are backed into a corner. We must strike soon," he said. The others nodded in agreement. Ellesar leaned back in his seat.

"We shall attack in a fortnight. Gather your armies and prepare for battle." He stood and the others followed in suit. They bowed as he took Lady Arwen's arm. Isolde could only stare at her arm in disbelief, thinking to herself how it would never heal in time. She looked up King Ellesar as he passed, not realizing she had forgotten to stand. The king paused and made eye contact with her. He looked down at her arm before continuing on and she understood: he meant for her to stay behind. As soon as the heavy doors closed behind them, Isolde ran from the room. Faramir called after her before deciding she was better off having some time to herself.

Eldarion found her in one of the courtyards, viciously attacking a tree with her sword. Her strikes, while quick, were ungainly and inaccurate, as she was using her other hand. Her furious grumbles and curses only got louder and more pointed as she chipped away more and more of the bark. Eldarion, while keeping a safe distance, tried to lighten the mood.

"You know," he started, "I'm not quite sure how my father will feel about your methods of pruning," Isolde, whirled around, surprised. She had not heard him come up behind her. He held his hands up innocently and she turned back to the tree.

"It's all he deserves, pulling a move like that," she muttered, swinging at the tree again. "He knows I could fight, if given the chance," She paused a bit, panting lightly, and a matter-of-fact look came upon her face. "But if he won't let me have time to heal, I'll just have to strengthen my other arm," She raised the sword over her head, but before she could strike, Eldarion spoke.

"Isolde," he said softly.

"What!" She shouted, turning again. He took a step closer.

"At least swing at something that can fight back," He replied, unsheathing his own sword. She nodded and advanced on him. He blocked every frustrated blow easily, not bothering to fight back. He listened patiently to every curse she directed towards his father, and to Aglaramarth, and even to him. And when she had finally used up her last ounce of energy, he sat beside her, up against the cool, stone wall. Isolde cast her eyes down, ashamed of herself. They sat there a while, watching the sun fall slowly in the sky. Eldarion played with her fingers and finally spoke.

"He isn't just doing it for your safety, you know," He said, looking at her. She returned his gaze. "He knows it would just kill your father if you were to be hurt again," Isolde smirked at this and he gave her a funny look.

"Whether I mean for it to or not, danger seems to find me anyway," she muttered. She looked down at her wrist and her eyebrows furrowed.

"It's bothering you again, huh?" Eldarion murmured, touching it lightly.

"It's just a dull ache. It's nothing really," She replied, brushing his hand away lightly.

"Oh no," He said, scolding her. "You're going to go march down to the healers right now to get more of those herbs," he continued, helping her up.

"But they're bitter," She whined, giving him a tragic look. They both exchanged a quick smile and he walked her to the nearest door.