The Balrog was enormous. Its skin was black and dull, like soot from the bottom of a hearth. Giant horns curled from its head and burning red eyes were set on its quarry. It seemed to be completely composed of fire and ash, so hot that it made the air burn and their eyes water. The wizard urged the Fellowship across the bridge then turned to face the demon. He raised his staff and drew himself up to his full height. He was no longer an old man but a powerful Istari, standing to defend the Fellowship. "You shall not pass!" he said defiantly. The monster reared up onto its hind legs and lashed a deadly whip in an open challenge. Gandalf joined Glamdring with his staff and once again stated his warning. "I am a servant of the sacred fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. Your dark fire shall not avail you flame of Udûn, return to the shadows!" Suddenly the Balrog held a bright red sword and the weapons clashed. Glamdring smote its opponent, sending shards flying through the air. The Balrog roared in rage and once again advanced on Gandalf.

"He cannot stand alone!" cried Aragorn. "By Elendil we must help him!"

"Aye, by Gondor! We are with you Gandalf!" agreed Boromir and the two men started towards the wizard. It was at this moment that Gandalf gave a final cry and brought his sword and staff down upon the thin bridge. The rock shuddered and cracked, crumbling into the chasm below. The Balrog fell with it, its battle cry echoing in the empty air. Gandalf had just turned back to the Fellowship when the long black whip curled around his ankle and pulled him from the ledge. He managed to catch himself for a moment, his fingers grasping desperately at the jagged rock.

"Fly, you fools!" he cried. His eyes met those of Eredhel and her stomach sank. Gandalf released his grip on the bridge and he fell, his cloak billowing around him as he followed the Balrog into the darkness below.

"NO!" screamed Frodo, "Gandalf!" He raced towards the bridge and Boromir ran after him. The man caught him and pulled him back from the edge, the hobbit struggling against his grip. Sam cried out and tried to get to his master but he felt a strong arm wrap around his torso, restraining him. Gandalf couldn't be gone, he just couldn't. Any second now the wizard would reappear, having struck down his enemy. Sam beat against the hands that held him as tears streamed down his face. He looked back to find Eredhel standing behind him and stopped hitting her. She barely seemed to notice but released him, her eyes on the opposite side of the chasm. Already the orcs were massing on the other side and soon arrows were flying towards them.

"Aragorn, we must get out!" yelled Eredhel as she shot one of the enemy archers.

"Yes, onward! Until we reach the sunlight!" he shouted and ran up the steps. A black arrow flew towards him and Eredhel realized too late that this was what she had seen. Luckily he ducked just in time, the arrow only narrowly missing his head. Eredhel breathed a quick sigh of relief then shot the orc that had aimed for her friend. The Fellowship followed the Ranger up the steps until they began to see shafts of light streaming in around them. They arrived at the ancient stone gates and Aragorn and Legolas threw their shoulders against doors. They gave way after their third attempt and the Fellowship hurried down the hillside, shielding their eyes from the daylight.

For the next half hour they ran, Aragorn refusing to stop until they were safely away from the mountains. Finally they halted when they reached the Dimrill Dale, where the dwarves had battled the Orcs of Moria. It was little past noon and the sky was a brilliant blue with wispy clouds floating lazily in the wind. The cheeriness of the day seemed to mock them, making the pain of what they had lost so much sharper. Total quiet hung over them as they assessed their weapons and checked for injuries. Silent sobs made Gimli's shoulders shake while Boromir and the hobbits wept openly for the loss of their leader. Aragorn once again ensured that Frodo had suffered no damage to his shoulder and then moved on to the others.

Merry had been cut with a sword and he trembled as he tried to wipe the blood from his wound. Slender fingers curled around his wrist and he looked up to see Eredhel standing above him. She took the strip of torn fabric and tied it around his arm with steady hands. Her eyes were dry and no tears stained her cheeks. "Why are you so, so..." Merry couldn't finish the sentence. He wanted to know how she could remain so collected as if nothing had happened, as if they had not just lost one of their friends. How she could be so calm when they had barely escaped with their lives. The elf said nothing but turned to join Legolas away from the group. He had bandaged the wound in his chest but the cloth was already stained with blood. Nothing was said between them, they simply stood looking out at the land below. After a moment Eredhel gave a soft sigh and walked towards Aragorn, pulling him away from the others.

"We cannot stay here. The sunlight has saved us but come nightfall our enemies will seek vengeance," she said.

"They need to grieve, we can linger here a while longer. We have time."

"Darkness will come sooner than you think, we have to reach Lothlórien. There we may rest and take shelter. You know we're not safe here Aragorn," urged Eredhel. He ran a hand over his eyes and she could see the grief that was washing over him. It was the same grief that threatened to overcome her. But Eredhel was well acquainted with death and its pain, she knew how to numb it, to push it away. She refused to allow herself to feel it.

"Very well," agreed Aragorn. "Everyone on your feet!"

"Give them a moment, we have suffered a great loss," said Boromir.

"If we are not gone by sundown these hills we be overrun with orcs! Lórien is where we will find safety. Legolas, Boromir, pull them to their feet." He indicated to the hobbits and Gimli. Boromir put an arm on the dwarf's shoulder and he rose, while Legolas gently hoisted Pippin from his knees. Soon they were running, their feet pounding on the hard ground. The Misty Mountains rose and fell alongside them as the sky above slowly went from light blue to purple. It was evening when they saw the Nimrodel River ahead of them, a silvery snake that fell from the mountains and continued through the forest until it met the Anduin.

"Can you hear it? The voice of Nimrodel?" asked Legolas as they neared the river. The sound of the rushing water was musical, calming and cheerful. "There is a song about the maiden who shared its name and though it is fair in the elven tongue it has been translated to Westron. They sing it often in Rivendell, do they not Eredhel?" The elf looked over at the mention her name and gave a small nod but said nothing. "Very well, I shall sing part of it for you. Perhaps it may ease our hearts for a while." So he began to sing and the others listened intently.

"An elven maid there was of old, a shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver grey

A star was bound upon her brows,
A light was on her hair as sun upon the golden boughs
In Lórien the fair..."

It was sad yet beautiful and the sound of the river seemed to rise with it, accompanying the voice of the Woodland Prince. After the last note had faded, Legolas looked to his right for Eredhel but she was nowhere in sight. His head whipped around until he saw her and Aragorn standing by the river. They were planning on how they would cross it, for it was quite wide and the current was strong. Luckily, the pair had led them to a place where it could be crossed but it would prove difficult for Gimli and the hobbits. After resting for a short while they prepared to wade into river. "Remove your shoes," said Eredhel suddenly, earning a confused look from Boromir.

"We don't know what could be at the bottom, our shoes will dry out soon enough."

"Strong magic flows in these waters, it heals weary travelers and renews their strength. The bottom is soft, you need not worry," she assured him. The Captain seemed skeptical but removed his boots and his action was followed by the others. Aragorn and Boromir went with Merry and Pippin first, to ensure they did not slip or fall too deep. They repeated the process with Frodo and Sam and were then followed by the remaining three.

Once on the other side they were quick to replace their shoes and make for the forest ahead. The trees were tall, with silver bows and leaves fell gently to the ground around them. The Fellowship felt safe here, as if no evil could enter. It was usually like this with the dwellings of the elves, for inside of them existed a light that even Sauron could not touch. Frodo felt calm and the Ring seemed to weigh less upon him. As he gazed up at the trees he noticed Eredhel run up to join Aragorn, her cloak camouflaging her in the shadows of the trees. Even in the quiet of the forest he could barely pick up her murmured words. "There is no guarantee we will be accepted with open arms, especially if we're being followed."

"What are you suggesting?" asked the man.

"I could drop back to check behind us and then keep an eye on you from above," Eredhel explained.

"Alright but be careful," agreed Aragorn. The elf nodded and allowed the rest of the Fellowship to pass her. Frodo's vision was suddenly blocked by Gimli as he came jogging up beside them and when he looked back Eredhel was gone. Frodo was about to ask Legolas or Aragorn what she was doing but had a feeling he would not get an answer. Twenty minutes passed and as they continued walking the trees began to grow closer around them.

"The Golden Wood far exceeds its description in songs and stories," said Legolas, in awe. "Alas that we have come in winter for during the spring the trees shed their leaves and golden flowers blossom all around."

"Alas that we have come at all," grumbled Gimli. "There are tales of an enchantress who lives in these woods. She has claimed many an unfortunate traveler with her dark magic. An elven witch, none of my people have seen her but it is said that those who look upon her are put under a spell and never seen again. Stay close!" Frodo was about to ask him about the mysterious women when a voice sounded in his mind. He flinched and looked around for the one who was speaking. Gimli gave him a nervous glance then continued on, keeping one eye on the Ringbearer. "Well this dwarf will not be bewitched! I will not be caught so easily!" The words were barely out of his mouth when archers appeared all around them. Legolas instinctively raised his bow as he looked around at the Fellowship. Each had one or more arrows pointed at their necks, including himself. Aragorn held up his hands in peace but Legolas noticed that his eyes darted momentarily to the branches overhanging them.

"The mountain dweller makes so much noise we could have shot him in the dark," said a blond elf who seemed to be the leader. An indignant snort was heard from the trees above them. He was startled for a moment as he tried to locate where the sound came from. Two of the elves pointed their bows upwards.

"That is true Haldir but with you all focusing on him I could've shot half your wardens by now," said Eredhel and suddenly she was on the ground behind him, her bow drawn. Legolas couldn't help but smirk at her nerve. She had greeted hnon the same fashion when they had first met. Haldir whipped around and several of the archers aimed at the newcomer, their eyes narrowed. It was nearly impossible for even an elf to sneak up on the Marchwarden and they were unsure whether or not to view her as a threat. Legolas started towards them but Aragorn grabbed his arm. Eredhel was in half in shadow, her face hidden by the darkness. For a moment they seemed at a standoff, the dark cloaked archer against the silver clad wardens.

"Move into the light so that we may know you are not a threat," commanded Haldir. She took a few steps forward and removed her hood. Once he recognized the elf, Haldir smiled. "Ah, Varyor. I should have known. It has been a long time since we last met."

"Yet this is a less than warm welcome, is it not?" she said, tilting her head to the side.

"But one that is necessary considering the dangers that roam these lands and that which you bring with you." His dark eyes lingered on Frodo. "Now would you mind lowering your weapon?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Very well," she sighed and brought the bow to her side.

"Na vedui, mellonin! (At last, my friend!)" He clasped her warmly on the shoulder. "Mae govannen, Aragorn in Dúnedain ar Legolas Thranduilion. (Welcome, Aragorn of the Dúnedain and Legolas, son of Thranduil.)"

"And they say the elves are courteous!" exclaimed Gimli suddenly, drawing the attention of the Warden. "You speak in a tongue that many of us cannot comprehend!"

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," his eyes narrowed, "and desperate days they must have been for us to ally with mountain dwellers." A low growl erupted from Gimli's throat and Eredhel sensed trouble. The elves of Mirkwood and Lórien were far less trustful of the dwarves than those of Imladris. She quickly stepped between them.

"It is not safe for us to linger on the ground. Haldir, is there not somewhere we could speak freely without fear of attack?"

"Yes, there are flets a short distance away. Follow me." He indicated to the grey cloaked elves and they encircled the group. "We will be safe in the trees. The borders are not as secure as they once were." They were led deeper into the forest and by now the first stars were twinkling in the sky. There was no path to follow and without an elf to guide them it would have been quite easy to get lost among the trees. Everyone was silent as their eyes explored their surroundings. All around were pillars of silver and above them was a roof of golden leaves. Frodo decided that although Rivendell was beautiful this had to be the fairest dwelling of the elves. His thoughts were interrupted when once again a women's voice echoed in his mind.

"Frodo, Frodo Baggins of the Shire." He jumped at the noise but his movement went unnoticed. "I know why you have come." Frodo gave himself a shake and once again looked around him. A moment later Eredhel was by his side, her presence bringing him a small amount of comfort. He did not know why the elf stirred such a feeling, but felt safer with her next to him.

"Do not fear her," she said softly.

"How did you know-?" asked Frodo, relieved that he hadn't gone mad.

"She has spoken to me in such a way often. Pay no heed to Gimli's words. The Lady means you no harm, she only wishes to protect these lands."

"I see. Then she is talking to you as well?"

"No, for the moment I have closed my mind for there are things I wish to remain private. It is a skill my father taught me long ago," she answered. Frodo looked up at her and saw there was sadness in her eyes. It was normal for the others to speak of their families, Gimli of his cousins and Boromir of his father, Denethor. Legolas had even on occasion mentioned King Thranduil and the hobbits were always telling stories involving their immense number of extended relatives. But Eredhel rarely spoke of her family, all Frodo knew was that she had two brothers, Arwen and her father whom she had had some sort of disagreement with upon leaving Rivendell. He could not imagine a younger version of her running through Imladris; chasing after her brothers or learning how to ride a horse. Worse than her however was Aragorn. He had not a single living relative left, he alone could reclaim the throne. Frodo suddenly found himself remembering summer evenings at the Green Dragon and a wave of homesickness washed over him.

It was shortly after this that they reached a large clearing. A silver ladder was let down from one of the larger trees and they ascended onto a lamp lit platform. Two elves whom Eredhel recognized were seated in the corner. Orophin and Rúmil, the brothers of Haldir, looked up in surprise as all nine of the Fellowship came into view. Boromir was the last one to reach the top and the ladder was pulled up after him. "I know that you have traveled far and met much difficulty upon the road," began Haldir, "but you carry a burden of evil. You may rest here tonight but after that you can go no farther." His eyes lingered on Frodo and the hobbit's heart sank. Beside him, Gimli gripped his axe tightly.

"So you would throw us out into the hands of our enemies? I knew the elves were cautious but I was unaware that they were cowards!" Gimli snarled.

"Such rash words are one of the reasons we no longer associate with the Dwarves," said Haldir coolly. At this Gimli seemed to finally lose his temper, taking a step towards the blond elf.

"And do you know what I have to say to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul! (equivalent to "I spit upon your grave!")" Eredhel stiffened at his remark and Aragorn grabbed him roughly by the arm.

"You would do well to exercise the courtesy you demand of the elves," he growled.

"My apologies for our companion Haldir," said Eredhel sincerely.

"It is not his insult that concerns me," he replied. "I am sorry but that which you carry cannot be brought to Caras Galadhon." Eredhel looked over at Aragorn and understanding passed between them. He shifted his weight and took a few steps away from the others, indicating for Haldir to join him. They spoke in murmured elvish and Eredhel could understand that it was not going well. The Ranger was growing frustrated, they needed the protection and counsel of the elves. Her focus was drawn by the low voice of Boromir speaking to Frodo. It seemed that he had also noticed the way the Hobbit had been keeping to himself. Eredhel studied the man, though sometimes arrogant, he was kind and loyal. Besides the incident on Caradhras, the Ring seemed to be having having far less of an influence on him than the others had predicted.

Eredhel sighed as she returned her attention to Haldir and Aragorn. Politics was a complicated game and one that she hated playing. It was one of the reasons she avoided her home. Unfortunately her friend seemed to be getting nowhere with the Warden and she went to join them. Legolas watched her intently, wondering how she would convince Haldir to allow them passage. Aragorn halted in his pleading when she reached them. "Haldir, he is right. You must grant us safety."

"A powerful enemy seeks you. If it were simply the two of you and Legolas I would allow it but a dwarf hasn't entered the Golden Wood in hundreds of years."

"Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn protect these lands. She knows we are here, though I have blocked her from my mind she has entered the others. She knows something you do not; the Grey Pilgrim fell in Moria." Even though none of the other elves spoke Westron Eredhel lowered her voice, not wanting to bring unnecessary sorrow. Haldir's eyes widened and realization dawned on his face, he passed a hand over his brow in grief.

"This is a great loss, I would lead you to the capital but there is still the matter of the dwarf," he insisted and Eredhel hesitated.

"I am willing to be held accountable for his actions. I alone will be responsible for any trouble he may cause." Legolas's eyes widened and he opened up his mind.

"Eredhel, You are taking a great risk!" he said mentally. She held Haldir's gaze but he heard her sigh.

"I know but we are quickly running out of options and we need their protection," she replied wearily. She waited as Haldir considered her offer.

"Very well. There is another talin in the tree opposite," he agreed finally, pointing east. "Two of the hobbits and the elves will remain here while the rest of you occupy the other. If we set out tomorrow morning we should reach Caras Galadhon by late evening. For now, we shall take some rest." They separated into their groups and the others headed towards their assigned flet. The elves of Lórien lived in the trees, dwelling on platforms built into the curves and shapes of their trunks.

Once Haldir and the others had left, the two siblings brightened and embraced Eredhel tightly. Neither of them knew much Westron so she introduced them to the others in their native tongue. They bowed low and returned to their seats on the floor. Blankets had been laid out for the travelers to sleep on and there was food on a small table in the corner. Merry and Pippin had stayed while Frodo and Sam joined the others in the second tree. But they were in no mood for eating, they were tired and the loss of Gandalf weighed heavily upon them. They collapsed onto their blankets and their soft snores were heard moments later.

The elves remained awake, talking quietly. Eredhel and Legolas divulged little more than the course of their journey to the brothers for they feared that their mission would reach the wrong ears. Though Eredhel trusted the two wardens she kept the Ring and the death of Mithrandir a secret, for they were close to the border and it was possible that even here the enemy was listening. Despite this Eredhel found herself feeling slightly more at ease. Orophin had spoken to Elladan and Elrohir when they brought news to the forest. She was relieved to hear that they were well and had gone to join the Dúnedain. After this she fell silent, half listening to the conversation between the others but focusing more on her thoughts. She ended up thinking about Gandalf and once again she pushed the feelings away. But every time she did they seemed to come back stronger until she was weary and wished for the relief that only sleep could bring. Such a reprieve was unattainable for she knew she would only once again relive the horrors of the recent battle.

Morning dawned with a pale sun and chilly air. Merry and Pippin woke with grumbling stomachs and immediately ate all the food. Back on the ground, the Fellowship regrouped and followed their guides through the forest once more. It was late afternoon when they caught their first glimpse of Caras Galadhon. A dense group of giant mallorn trees stood atop a large hill, surrounded by a wall of green earth. It was a city, yet it seemed to grow up from the ground as a part of the wood. Though they were within sight of it, it was still an hour before they reached the Great Gates. From there they were led through the city, earning curious looks from its occupants. All around them elves wove between trees, their long hair flowing much like the leaves in the wind. The mallorn trees were greater than Frodo had ever seen, intricate staircases wound around them, allowing passage to the many levels above.

When they reached the center of the city, they ascended the largest tree. Their tired feet trudged up the white steps until they came out into a moonlit hall. Everything seemed to be part of the tree in which is was built, as if it had simply grown that way. Even Sam had no idea how such a feat had been accomplished and in the years that followed he would often recall the wonder he felt upon viewing this sacred home of the elves. "Mind you," he'd say, "The Gaffer had seen a great many gardens in his day but I doubt he ever saw anything like that, the trees were like houses! Up, up, up they went. When you were in one you'd never know you were a hundred feet from the ground!"

The floor was covered in swirling patterns and small lamps flickered from the curved walls. Their guides left them now, only Haldir remained. Ahead of them, carved doors suddenly swung outwards and two forms were silhouetted by the light behind them. Silver hair fell to the lord's shoulders. He had the bearings of a warrior and there was wisdom on his brow. He went hand in hand with a golden haired lady. Shining locks rippled down her back and she wore a gown of flowing white. A jewel gleamed on her finger, the ring Nenya. This was one of the three Rings of Power that had been gifted to the elves. Frodo's gaze moved to the fair face and he was met with bright blue eyes. It was then that he realized this was the one who had spoken in his head, it was Galadriel, Lady of Light.