The eyes drew closer, but as they did, Galadriel heard the tread of hooves and the hushing snort of a horse. She recognized it in an instant from her arrival. Looming above her like its master, Sauron's warhorse approached. She dared not pat its velvety nose, even though it extended its neck towards her, like so many steeds did, as if to ask for the touch of attention. No, she drew back a step, listening to the warning tug of her magic.
Her back bumped against the corner of the stall, hiding her in shadows. Suddenly, a door opened further down, sending a blast of orange light and heat from Oroduín into the darkness. A shadow stretched close to her, cautiously, she looked around the corner. Adar. As he walked away from her, his pace bespoke hurry, stopping at a stall, pulling out a black stallion already saddled and ready.
Quickly he mounted his horse, kicking into a full gallop as they raced out the door.
Galadriel did not pause to think, she raced with speed back to that long-legged, golden mare, throwing open its stall. With haste, she latched on a bridle, not sparing time for a saddle as well. One leap, and she was on its bare back, whispering in its ear to make all haste in pursuit. With a nicker, the mare bolted into the hall and out the door.
Black, ashen plains flew by as they rode, but her heart did not thrill with the joy of riding as it usually did. It pounded and echoed in her ears, racing headlong into battle, harrowing her to hurry and to catch the enemy. Adar came into view at last, heading towards a grove of blackened trees, the shells of a forest now decimated and dead.
Galadriel's legs trembled as she held fast, her heels digging in to goad her mare. The treeline grew closer, Adar's galloping form larger and larger as well. So close, she whispered, stroking the horse's lathering neck as she ran faster. The black speck of Adar was soon swallowed by the dead forest, but Galadriel pushed only harder. He would be easy to track.
The black forest only a few hundred feet away, her horse slowed. And then stopped. Just on the edge of the dead and dying roots of the closest trees. She kicked, she shouted. She cajoled and stroked to coax it further. Nothing. The horse would not dare another step.
She dismounted with a sniffed and a swallow of exasperation, the tingle of dangerous magic sweeping over her as she stepped to the tree. One step of her foot into the forest, and her body shuddered and writhed in pain. Her screams only muffled behind her teeth as the magic scored and shook her body past the point of breaking.
Her feet stepped away. Instantly the pain stopped. A barrier against intruders. A barrier of darkest sorcery.
She huffed exasperated, trying to peer into the swirling shadows beyond. But her gaze only pierced a short distance in, something preventing her elf-eyes from seeing anything beyond.
More magic.
She reached to gather her horse's bridle, walking the trees' edge to observe what she could. Nothing but shadows, darkness, and dead branches. Not even the wind stirred around her in this place. A void of nothing but blackness and death.
Movement tugged at her, a ripple of energy pulsed from the distance. Behind her, the mare began to stamp, tugging against her hold on the reins, nervous and wired.
Then, she heard it too, hoofbeats racing ever closer and louder, their rumble beginning to reverberate in her ears. A black rider approached from the fortress, the pounding of hooves growing. Galadriel peered out at him, and then she froze, heart in her throat. It took not even a second to recognize Sauron astride that beast of red eyes. And from what her keen sight observed of his glowering face and his own glowing eyes, he would not arrive pleased.