Hey all! Wow I am amazed that people are actually reading this. I apologise again for my spelling mistakes…makes me feel quite stupid really.

And I must thank my reviewers…u guys r awesome! I'm really glad u like it, I noticed a most of u said it was different - that means a lot cause that's the way I was heading. But I have a favour to ask—Pick one Legolas or Aragorn…I know I know I know how horrid of me to consider Aragorn, how could I do that 2 Arwen…but I need to make a decision before I start writing Legolas in and before I bring back the hunky king of Gondor. I don't want it 2 turn into a sappy romance, but Serafina wont let me do it…so don't worry. (Alenor Peredhel-how could I not let them meet again…she grinned at him before she jumped…that's a sure sign! ; )

I hope u enjoy.

Chapter Five

The thief was glowering; indeed her mood was not the best. She had been following the East-West Road for a couple of days. She had barely slept, the Nazgul cries could be thanked solely for that. However it being midday she was beyond scared, the Nazgul were far behind and she was bathed in sunshine, no she wasn't scared she was perplexed and angry.

She had worked over the night the Nazgul had been in Bree numerous times, and still could not fit together the pieces. The Black Riders were out of Mordor, that was bad enough news in itself. But what in Eru's name were they doing this far north? What had attracted them to the rather pathetic village of Bree? Sure it had some scum in the village but nothing that warranted the attention of Mordor. Serafina cursed herself for not being more observant. She should have listened harder to that Strider. Perhaps she should have questioned him, and prodded some answers out of him.

She was missing something, and she knew it. She thought about the bizarre conversation he and the hobbit had had while she was bleeding in the corner. What in Middle-Earth did trinkets have to do with disappearing acts? She wondered who could have been chasing them. Who would chase hobbits? They were the most harmless race she knew, she could not imaging them being caught up with anything against the law. But the man…Strider, he was another kettle of fish, a whole different ball game. He had secrets, he was capable of more than he was letting on, and Serafina could see that.

And then there was how protective Strider had been of the hobbits; as if they were imperative to everything he stood for. The thief sighed. This was one riddle that she could not solve, well two riddles: that of the Nazgul in Bree and the man with four hobbits, jewellery and a fetish for invisibility. She wondered if the two could be connected, then dismissed the thought as quickly as it came for Nazgul do not chase hobbits and men with strange fetishes.

…………………………

As night approached her mood swung from ill tempered to petrified. The cries of the Wraiths were closer tonight and Serafina did not like the look of her daggers against one Nazgul, let alone however many of the nine were behind her.

She had rested earlier that afternoon, and was glad she did so, for Serafina intended to push her poor horse as far and as fast as she could without falling off.

For the thousandth time she wished she had not messed up so badly. If she had been paying attention after breaking out of her cell she may have avoided Garth and his thugs, leaving her free to at least half plan where she was heading. A map surely would not go astray. Berating herself mentally Serafina pushed on, fleeing the Nazgul's cries, they were particularly worked up tonight. Something had either gone terribly wrong or horribly right.

………………………….

Dawn approached and Serafina's mind eased. Though her pace did not. She pitied her horse, but he did not seem to mind, apparently he was as keen as her to put as much distance between himself and the Nazgul as possible.

Ahead of her was a bridge. She watched as it came closer to her from the horizon. She thought about stopping at the river to let her run-down horse drink, and herself too, but she found after many attempts of trying to stop her horse that she could not. She didn't believe it; she was on a mad horse, bareback with no way of controlling it. She wondered how incredibly boring it would be to not be her, if it was not thugs, dangerous wagons waiting in the streets to hurt her, or trees, it was wild horses, strange men and Nazgul. How did they all cope with such placid lives?

She gritted her teeth and cursed the stupid horse. She pulled its head as hard as she could to the right so that they would avoid the bridge and force the horse to stop before running into the river. Serafina wasn't a strong girl, but by some strange twist of fate she managed to turn his head ever so slightly to the side hoping it would be enough to put him of course.

It worked. Well it sort of worked.

Serafina was saturated, and so was the horse. The dumb beast had galloped full bore into the river.

"You dumb arse!" she yelled at the horse, the water was freezing and the horse was shocked. They had made it three quarters of the way across the river before the horse's momentum had slowed then stopped. Serafina grabbed a handful of his mane and heaved him up out of the water after her. Like normal the horse didn't need much encouraging and splashed up the bank before she did. When she had finally made it the rest of the way up the bank she glared venomously at the crazed horse. To her disgust he regarded her in the same fashion, then he bolted.

Muttering darkly to herself Serafina set out after him, not intent on finding him, however she may as well go in the direction the horse had chosen, figuring he would be putting as much distance between himself and the Nazgul as possible, and Serafina did not think that a foolish idea.

Little did the thief know that the horse was headed in the direction of Rivendell. Serafina had no intention of meeting the elves, she wanted another human village as easy to work in as Bree, she doubted very much that elves would receive the likes of her with open arms. However she trudged on unknowingly towards the Last Homely House, sodden with river water and grumpy for many valid reasons. The last thing she expected was to see two pairs of piercing clear blue eyes, set in identical timeless faces, each with perfect long brown hair proudly displaying delicately pointed ears. She would have smiled charmingly at the handsome elves if it had not been for the pair of arrows trained unyieldingly on her. Serafina closed her eyes and prayed she was dreaming, when she opened her eyes and realised the Gods weren't listening she smiled anyway, and waited for them to speak.