AUTHORS NOTE: Some could say this is sacrilege, I hope its not. I don’t own anything here except perhaps for the concept that was crafted from elements of the Simarillion and the more obscure legends in the Lord of the Rings. The rating at this time is R mostly for tense situations. I have used some elements of the film version, in particular Arwen’s replacement of Glorfindel’s ride to Rivendell since I feel it adds more to her character’s development.

Prologue:
The World Changes

It was meant to be a time of peace.

The War of the Ring had come and gone and the realms of Arnor and Gondor had been united under the leadership of Isildur’s heir, Aragorn Elessar, once called Strider who was of the Fellowship of the Ring. The initial years following the end of Sauron's evil reign and the destruction of his kingdom in Mordor had been years fraught with toil. It might seem to those watching that the vanquishing of so evil a foe would signal the dawn of a more civilized age. Unfortunately, they would have been disappointed. The Fourth Age began as all things borne of great conflict often do, with unsteady feet, searching for its place in the new world, through the ashes of the old.

As the halflings learnt upon their return to their beloved Shire that even with the death of Sauron, his minions still continued to invoke his evil across the land. Saruman the White, escaping the siege of Isengard, turned his vengeful eye toward Hobbiton. In his hatred, he was determined to bring ruin to the homecoming of the ring bearer and those with him who had brought Sauron to his end. Fortunately, he died at the blade of his own minion Wormtongue without causing irreparable harm to the Shire. However he was not alone. In the War of the Ring, Saruman had gathered many allies to align themselves with Sauron and created an army that would have consumed all of Middle Earth. Whilst many of these had been vanquished at the Battle of Pelennor, some had survived the carnage to escape into crevices and the dark places of the world, to hide until such time when they would be called upon to serve evil once more.

The time that came after the War of the Ring was not only a time of peace but also of restoration. Much that had been destroyed was once again rebuilt. The King, who remembered the promise made to his fallen comrade, Boromir, to never let the White City falter, restored Minas Tirith which had suffered greatly in the siege of Gondor. In Isengard, Gandalf the Grey attempted to rebuild the splendor of his ancient order to what it was before Saruman had defiled it with his treachery.. In Moria, Gimli led the Dwarves against the Orcs who had slain Balin and retook the grand city. Legolas returned to Mirkwood, taking his place as a Prince of the Wood and giving aid to the lands whose forests had been ravaged by war.

In the meantime, the Enemy lay in the shadows, watching.

He waited in silence, allowing the victors to savor their prize and their peace, feeding their complacency in the belief that the danger of the dark times had indeed passed. Meanwhile, he planned a secret restoration of his own. Sauron had placed too much of himself in the One Ring and that had been his undoing. Such power could not be contained in a vassal of gold, fashioned from any mountain. It was a living, breathing thing. If the enemy had learnt one thing with perfect understanding from Sauron's utter defeat, it was never to move too quickly.

The One Ring was too well known, too remembered, for it to slip past the forces that had stood against Sauron. All it had taken to bring the dark lord undone was one determined hobbit, a creature so insignificant to imagine it capable of defeating one of the Maiar was unimaginable and yet that was precisely what had happened.

No, he was not so foolish as to place his power into a ring. He had been waiting from ancient times, a creature weakened by a blow that should have killed him, recovering in secret and allowing those who might remember him to believe that he was dead. In truth, much of what he was, was no longer and his anonymity ensured his continued survival. When Sauron had first come to power, he had considered offering his services to the dark lord but chose to wait until Sauron had become master of all before making his presence known. However, Sauron had not prevailed and upon Isildur’s fateful blow and the loss of the ring, he had chosen to withdraw into shadows and wait for another opportunity.

Even with the dawning of the Third Age and the great peace that had settled over the land, he knew that Sauron’s evil was not ended. The One Ring had survived and while it remained in the world of Middle Earth, its power was still potent. It was only a matter of time before it made its presence known again and as history tumbled along in its own clumsy way, Sauron was finally defeated and vanquished forever. The Third Age slipped into the past and now there was a new hope stretching itself across all of Middle Earth and in its splendor, it made those who could be a threat to the Enemy weak and so the time had come at last to act.

His ring would not be made of gold; nor would it be subject to the whim of its bearer. No, his "ring" would be one of flesh, a person sculpted, as one would a statue; molded to fit his will. Saruman had attempted to build the superior soldier in the Uruk Hai. The Enemy's ambitions would have made the wizard's jaw fall open in astonished wonder.

The Enemy had no need of soldiers when what he desired to build was a god encased in the body of a king.

And he found many that would help him. The Orcs and the Uruk Hai, who found themselves without a master following the demise of Sauron, were being hunted into extinction by the new king. When the Enemy told them of his plan, they savored the delicious irony of it all and were eager to help him carry it out in any way possible. There was little they could do for the moment except wait.. For the plan required one last, culminating event for him to be able to set it in motion. He ordered the Orcs and the remaining Uruk Hai to the secret city, aware that only in its confines would they know any peace from the hunters who sought to end their races once and for all.

The secret city like the Enemy himself had been forgotten in time and even the ones who considered themselves aged and knowledgeable in the ways of the ancient, no longer remembered the places he knew. He journeyed with his small army of Orcs and Uruk Hai to the hidden fortress deep within the earth. Far away from all the knowing of all creatures above, he kept watch on the outside world through one of the palantirs that he had acquired over the years. He watched over the Kings of Gondor, Mirkwood and all the lands of Middle Earth, waiting for the time when they would begin the course for which he had planned for so long.

And then it came, as anticipated, for the lives of mortal men were terribly predictable for all their short-lived passion. It had come from Gondor, also as expected and it brought a cry of satisfaction running through the secret city. He, himself , rejoiced most of all when the City of Minas Tirith made a most joyful announcement. The White City's elation almost rivaled that of his own minions though their reasons for celebration could not have been more different opposite. The Enemy smiled in pleasure for the culmination of so many years of waiting and calculating had finally reached apogee and it was time to begin.

To the King of Gondor, a child was to be born.

And to the Enemy in the darkness of the secret city, evil was about to be unleashed on Middle Earth again.

Part One:
Celebration  

When the news had come, Arwen had scarcely believed it.

Her suspicions, had abound for the past few weeks, especially when her courses had not come as regularly expected. Since then, she had held her breath in anticipation of the possibility; at the same time driving poor Aragorn to distraction because he could not fathom what was at the heart of her suddenly moody temperament. She had not wished to tell him of her suspicions because if he were to know, he would most likely be in a worse state than she. What was it with men of courage and strength, who could ride forth and slay a thousand Orcs and Uruk Hai with nary a flinch but went into complete and utter ruins of nuisance when confronted with the possibility of becoming a father?

Arwen suspected that not even the Valar could answer that question and chose not to torment her King with the possibility that he might have an heir before she knew for certain, herself. Thus she left her beloved Estel to his devices which were many of late. As King of the newly unified lands of Arnor and Gondor, he had yet to consolidate his power amongst the scattered ruins of Sauron's war. Those who thought that being a King was all pomp and splendor would recoil in horror if they knew what arduous work it could truly be. More was the time when Arwen would step into the King’s court and see the glimmer in his eyes that she knew was his longing for simpler days, when he was still Strider – Ranger to the lands of Eridor.

Yet he was a good man, this one she loved beyond reason or thought. He would carry the burden because his people needed him, because he had made a promise to a friend long ago, to never let the White City falter and because he alone had the courage to do what must be done, even at the cost to his own happiness. And Arwen would be at his side forever, to carry that burden with him, to fill his life, so overburdened with heavy responsibilities, with the simple pleasures such as the news she could now tell him with complete certainty to be the truth.

There are things that a woman knows without the aid of any physician or healer to tell her otherwise. Although Arwen had been hesitant to believe what she knew in her heart, for fear of being disappointed, inwardly she could not deny that she was certain that she carried his child within her. The waiting, however, for proof to be provided that this hope was more than just her intuition was maddening. She stormed about the palace, curt in her words though not unkind, as she endured a secret torment that Aragorn could not fathom but chose wisely not to provoke by asking questions.

Fortunately, there was no longer any doubt. The royal physician had confirmed it and as she placed her hand on her still flat belly, she could feel instinctively that the child slumbering within the womb was all too real. She drifted, if it was possible for a flesh and blood mortal to drift, through the halls of the palace. She warmed the hearts of everyone who came across her and caught the radiant smile on her face. As she made her way to her King, she chuckled inwardly thinking to herself. How grateful they must be for her good mood, considering her temperament of late. She resolved herself to make it up to those who had borne the brunt of her temperament. After all, being a queen did not excuse bad behavior in any shape or form.

Her father had taught her that.

Thinking of Elrond made Arwen's smile widen because he would be so thrilled to hear of this. Despite his sometimes dignified manner and his exceptional keeping with all things proper, Arwen knew her father would like nothing better than to be the dotting grandfather who was allowed to spoil his grandson shameless. He had claimed, on numerous occasions, that to be the right of all grandfathers. She would send word to him after she left Aragorn and perhaps to Galadriel as well, for her grandmother would want to hear the news almost as much as her father -- although Galadriel had her own ways of learning things without being told.

Arwen found Aragorn within the conference room, where he had spent much of his days lately, attempting to portion out men to the lands that were still being plagued by remnants of Sauron’s army. The Uruk Hai, without masters, were even more dangerous for their violence had no purpose now and they seemed to lay waste to anyone unfortunate enough to be in their path of destruction. As she entered, Arwen found that her king was already in counsel with Faramir, Lord of Ithilien and Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood. They were pouring over the maps that showed which lands were under threat. The three men immediately raised their eyes to her as she entered the room. Arwen hid her smile at the anxious expression that crossed Aragorn's face. She well knew that he was wondering what he had done now, that she should seek him out while he was engaged in such an important discussion.

"Your highness," Faramir bowed his head politely.

"Faramir," she smiled with equal regard and turned her eyes towards the Prince of Mirkwood as she continued her advance into the room.

There was no such formality required between Arwen and Legolas who were childhood friends. The Prince merely smiled warmly at her as she neared her husband.

"Lady," he remarked softly.

Arwen rolled her eyes at that childhood greeting, wondering how it was that Legolas whom she had learnt to climb trees with and had provided with his first kiss at the ripe age of seven, could still call her that? She had forgotten the number of times she had requested he call her by her name and narrowed her eyes at him in slight annoyance, especially at his amusement in seeing her vexed by his continued use of that title.

"Arwen, is something wrong?" Aragorn asked gingerly for his wife was easier to provoke these days than a cave troll with an elf on his back. 

"Nothing my love," Arwen smiled at him and disarmed his anxiety a little. "I would just like a moment alone if my lords do not mind?" She glanced at the two men in the room.

"Of course," Faramir said graciously and glanced at Aragorn for the king’s leave to depart.

"I will send for you when we are done," Aragorn replied, wondering what was important enough for Arwen to interrupt him while he was in conference.

The two lords nodded in understanding and quickly departed, leaving the royal couple to their own for a time.

"If this is about where I left my boots again, I swear that affairs of state occupied my mind and I forgot…" Aragorn started to say before Arwen silenced him with her finger against his lip.

"No my love," she beamed at him happily, "I come here on an entirely new matter, however, now that you have made mention of it, is it so hard to put them away?"

"You are teasing me," he gave her a look, a brow cocked over one eye in playful accusation.

"Yes," she laughed. "I am."

Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled her to him and kissed her gently on the lips, glad to see that she was in a better mood then she had been of late. He wondered what it was that bothered her so much but was glad that it seemed to be a thing of the past. When they parted, he stared for a time into her blue eyes and felt himself falling in love with her all over again. She had that effect on him and he knew that the man he was today owed no small debt to her. If he was great, it was because loving her had made him so.

"And what can the King do for you today?" He asked.

"I came to apologize for how I have been these past few weeks," Arwen said first and foremost. "I have been very temperamental."

"Why?" He asked grateful that at last she was talking to him about this. They had always shared everything and the reason for her foul mood had prodded at his worst fears. "I was starting to fear that you might have regretted giving up your life in Imladris for me."

Arwen’s jaw dropped slightly at the suggestion.

"Fool," she frowned and swatted him gently on the side of the head for even entertaining such a suggestion. "You men can be so frightfully wrong at times."

"I warn you lady," he joked. "Striking the King is a grave offense."

"I will take my chances," she retorted. "I will tell you this once more for if I have to do it again, I will call down all the powers at my disposal to show you my displeasure, I love you and always will. Being here with you is all I will ever want and I regret nothing."

Aragorn shrugged. She had proven her love for him on more occasions than he could count. And he had faith in her. But, he supposed, the deep love he felt for her in turn, would always manifest itself in that slight doubt that she would always be there; that he would never lose her, "All right, I am wrong in this, but you were terribly difficult."

"I have reason," she said dryly, disappointed that the romantic scene she had envisioned about this moment had not come to be. But then, what in marriage was always as expected? "I had cause to suspect something which could not be confirmed until today and I fear the waiting was a little more than my nerves could endure."

"Suspect what?" The Ranger in him immediately jumped to the fore. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"I am fine," she stilled him again her finger. "I am with child."

There was an instant where she thought the news was not what he wished to hear. But then her fears were dispelled, for within his eyes, a great light flickered into being and soon encompassed his entire face with a brilliant and happy grin.

"A child!" He exclaimed with the eagerness of a boy given a wondrous gift. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nodded with relief as well as joy at his reaction to her news. "I had suspected for a few weeks, that is why I was seemed so out of sorts. I am sorry that I vexed you so but I wanted to be certain before I told you."

"And you are now?" He stared at her and then at her stomach where his child, no, their child grew under the skin.

"Yes, Nicos confirmed it for me today." She replied laughing. "We are going to have a baby in the spring."

"Oh Undómiel!" He swept her up in his arm, twirling her around in an uncharacteristic show of exhilaration. "I love you and I love my son."

"Your son?" She looked at him with raised brow. "Are you so sure its going to be a boy? It could be a girl."

"If it is a girl," Aragorn replied quickly, "I wish only that she have your eyes. I do not care if we have a boy or a girl, Undómiel. I will love you both. You have already made me happier than I ever thought possible but now, knowing that we have created new life together, there are no words to describe how my heart beats at this moment."

"Oh Estel," she whispered, her eyes glisten with tears from the heartfelt emotion in his voice and the sheer happiness in his face. She rested her head against his chest and took comfort from the sound of his heart beating so close to her ear as she held him in her embrace. "We are going to have a baby! Keeping this to myself has been so hard, I've wanted to shout it out from the roof tops ever since I suspected I might be with child. I am so happy I no longer have to keep this from you!"

"I wish you had told me," he said with a sigh. "You should not have to keep such a thing to yourself. It’s no wonder you were so disagreeable."

"I did not want to plant false hopes, my love," she explained. "You have so much to worry your mind already, I did not wish to see you disappointed if I was wrong."

"Nothing that you do could ever disappoint me Undómiel," Aragorn stared into her eyes and wanted her to see that it was the truth. Still, he could not deny that he was delighted that they were going to have a child and he truly meant it when he said that he cared not if it were a boy or a girl, for he would love either equally. "However, now that we know for sure, I feel as you do. I want everyone to know!"

"Everyone?" She gave him a look wondering what devilry was he conjuring in his mind.

"Yes," he grinned. "I think it is time that the King and Queen of Gondor hold court with their friends again. What say we have a little party and we can make the announcement to the whole city?"

Arwen thought of her father and Galadriel again, not to mention the little halflings, and knew that she would dearly love to see them all and to have them share in hers and Aragorn 's happiness. "I think that would be most acceptable my Lord," she embraced him again.

"Well run along and arrange it," he replied mischievously.

"This was your idea!" She cried out with mock anger. "How is it that the duty falls to me?"

"Well I am the king, I have affairs of state to manage….." he muttered feebly

"Really?" Arwen looked at him skeptically, her hands on her hips as she pulled away from him, her mind whirling already with the plans for the upcoming celebration. "I will do your bidding this once my king," she teased. "But only because it suits me."

"Why thank you my queen," he returned with a hint of sarcasm as she sauntered towards the door and felt his soul sigh in gratitude that such beauty was his to love and that she loved him back. When he had first laid eyes upon her, he never thought such a magnificent vision of beauty could be as equally beautiful in her heart as well as her appearance. He was only too happy to learn otherwise.

"Undómiel," he called as he saw her about to leave the room.

"Yes Estel?" She cast those magnificent eyes back at him with a quizzical expression.

"I love you," he said softly.

Her face broke into a radiant smile and she left with her melodic voice lilting in his ears, her words warming him in the wake of her departure.

"Lith eithel nîn meleth"

As well my love.

************

Once it had been a treacherous thing to leave the Shire for parts unknown but with the end of Sauron and the installation of the new king, roads were built and travelers journeying from place to place were assured of their safety from Orcs and other similar misfortunes. Thus news of the celebration reached Hobbiton in far more speed that would have been possible in the days of old when a rider from Gondor, drew strange and curious looks from the folk as he rode through the Shire. However, such visitors were no longer as unexpected as they once were and most who saw the rider knew that his destination was undoubtedly Bag End where Frodo Baggins was in residence following his return to the Shire from his adventures beyond.

Although Frodo had not fully recovered his injuries at the hands of the Nazghul he was well enough to receive the rider with adequate hospitality and furnish the man from Gondor with a warm meal before seeing him off once more. Upon his departure, Frodo sought out Samwise Gangee, his dearest friend in the world who was out tending the gardens of Bag End with usual care. On this occasion, Sam was busy attempting to salvage a rose bush that had seemed to have come down with some malaise, which left its leaves, yellowed and brittle. Sam had made it his mission to ensure the plant’s survival although Frodo believed this may be a battle already lost but then Sam could not be faulted for his stubbornness because it was the quality that made him some a loyal friend and ally.

"Sam," Frodo called out on approach and saw Sam lifting his head out of the bush to regard his employer and friend.

"Were you needing something Mr. Frodo?" Sam stood up, dusting the dirt from his hands as he went to meet Frodo part way across the garden.

"Sam," Frodo stared at him. "How long have we known each other?"

"Forever Mr. Frodo," Sam stared at him as if he were daft for asking such an obvious question.

"Then why can’t you just call me Frodo?" The master of Bag End asked with exasperation.

"It wouldn’t be proper that’s why," Sam said resolutely with a slight tautness to his lower lip, which indicated to Frodo that he would remain unmovable on this subject. "Now did you want me for something, or can I go back to trying to save this dying plant that’s too far gone save for my thick headedness?"

"I give up," Frodo threw his hands up in resignation.

"I would," Sam grinned mischievously before noting the envelope in his hand whose seal had been broken. The envelope was very fine and did not appear stationery that was common to the Shire for Shire folk were very sensible with parchment that was devoid of gilded gold as this one was. "What’s that?"

"This," Frodo returned to the subject at hand and explained, "is an invitation from Strider to visit Minas Tirith. It appears that he is having a party and wants the Fellowship to attend as well as Rosie if she is able."

Sam had spoken so many times about his adventures abroad that he knew Rosie would be thrilled to visit Minas Tirith and meet the King and Queen of Gondor. Besides, he thought that the travel might be good for Frodo. Despite their part in the War of the Ring, Frodo had not recovered as he should and occasionally he had strange turns. Both Sam and Rosie worried about him but neither spoke openly to anyone about his behavior for the Shire folk had little to entertain them and would spread the talk across Hobbiton if given the morsel of scandal to devour.

"I think we should go," Sam said purposefully. "It would be good to see Strider and them lot again."

"Yes it would," Frodo had to agree and felt it strange how they still called the King of Gondor and Arnor, not to mention the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, by the name of Strider. To them, he would always be that Ranger who had saved them for almost certain doom from the Ring Wraiths at the Prancing Pony. "The invitation is also for Pippin and Merry so it will be like old times, except Rosie shall come with us."

"And this time there will be no Nazghul chasing us," Sam pointed out.

"Thank goodness," Frodo replied. "I wonder what the celebration is about?" He mused.

"We’ll find out when we get to Minas Tirith Mr. Frodo. It don’t really matter much since we’re going to see our friends."

"You’re right as always Sam," Frodo smiled and decided that Sam was right. It did not matter the why. It was just good to see old friends again. "Well I suppose we better get packing and you better tell Rosie."

************

Gimli’s invitation did not have far too travel for at the moment, the dwarf was presently in Minas Tirith aiding with the construction of the city’s new gates to replace the ones that had been damaged during the War of the Ring. The new gates were to be constructed of mithrial and would no doubt keep the White City protected from any invaders. Since the end of the War, the feisty dwarf had found himself spending a good deal of time in Erebor where he was now known as the Lord of the Glittering Caves. Being called a Lord was still something he was unaccustomed to and was glad that when he was here in Minas Tirith, he was called Gimli instead of that exalted title.

In fact the only person who seemed to call him that here was Legolas much to Gimli’s chagrin and the dwarf was certain that the only reason the Elven prince referred to him in that way was in order to cause him upset. Legolas had acquired something of a mischievous wit, which in itself was a mystery because Gimli was of the opinion that Elves were all too somber for his liking and knew nothing about ribald, jovial humor. While Legolas did not practice the latter in great doses, he did enjoy poking fun at his comrades, particularly when they were taking themselves all too seriously.

Gimli was of the opinion that perhaps the elf needed a woman in his life.

Not that Gimli had any difficulty in that arena. The fortunes of his life and the War of the Ring had made him a most eligible bachelor and while he had yet to choose a wife, he knew that he was an attractive prospect for any female dwarf. This in itself was fortunate because dwarf women were far less in number than dwarf men and were extremely choosy in bestowing their affections. He knew that he had caught the eye of one of the women that had journeyed from the north to Erebor. While she had yet to make her feelings known to him, Gimli sensed that perhaps she would the next time he returned to the Glittering Caves.

"Lord Gimli!" The dwarf was snapped out of his thoughts by the voice of Legolas calling.

He looked up to see the handsome elf striding forward, wondering and wondered if Legolas had come to enlist his aid in hunting the Orcs that had been troubling much of the lands around Mordor following the end of Sauron. He would not have minded a little swordplay for he had become accustomed to the business of adventure since becoming one of the Fellowship. Of course, that was a terrible indulgence for any dwarf whose sole concern should be the craftsmanship of his trade but sometimes even a dwarf needed distraction.

"Must you persist in using that infernal title?" Gimli glared at him.

"Yes Lord of the Glittering Caves," Legolas said with a completely straight face. "I bring you tidings from the King."

Gimli snorted in annoyance and turned back to his plans. "You may tell his Royal Highness that the gates will be built when they are ready and not one second less and certainly not longer. If he persists in hounding me, I shall return home and he can finish it himself!"

"I will tell him that if you like," Legolas said sarcastically, " however he did not send me here to request an update regarding the progress of the gates. I offered to come here in place of one of his riders."

"Oh?" Gimli stared at him. "And what would he want of me if not to know how his gates fare?"

"To invite you to a celebration," the elf pointed out. "It appears that there is an important announcement forthcoming. The Queen has summoned her father and her grandmother to attend. The King has sent riders to Hobbiton and to Isengard to summon the rest of the fellowship."

"Ah," Gimli absorbed the news and stroked his beard in consideration of what the announcement could be. "You have any idea what this news might be?"

"Not really," Legolas confessed. "I know that Arwen required an audience alone with Aragorn while we were in discussion about the deployment of men to deal with the Orcs."

"Well that’s it then," Gimli replied with a note of triumph in his voice. "It’ll be a baby then."

"A baby!" Legolas exclaimed; wondering how the dwarf could come to such a conclusion. "What makes you say that?"

"Let us examine the evidence, a celebration involving the queen’s kin and the gathering of the fellowship, the closest thing the King would have to the same, not to mention that we are speaking about the most serious man we have ever met, choosing to celebrate some grand news? What else could it be?" He gave Legolas a look of amusement, wondering how a three thousand year old elf could be so naïve at times.

"Well I suppose he did seem rather cheery after the fact," Legolas mused. "Grinning ear to ear as a matter of fact. It was rather unnerving."

Gimli rolled his eyes once again and muttered, "Legolas, you are in sore need of female company."

**********

"It is beginning," Gandalf the White, sometimes known as Mithandir of the Maiar, spoke to Galadriel as they sat by the lake Lórellin in Caras Galadhon discussing matters they had hoped would come to the fore later rather than sooner.

"Yes," Galadriel nodded sadly, having seen the portents of doom in her fabled Mirror. Much of what she had seen had shaken her even though she did not speak out loud of her fears. "I had hoped it would not be this soon but alas, it appears that it is time for Arwen to embark upon her own quest."

"This is no quest," Gandalf pointed out quickly. "This is evil of the foulest kind."

"She has chosen to live a mortal life," Galadriel sighed with a heavy heart because the Evenstar was a favorite to her as she was to her father Elrond. "She must suffer the burden that comes with that choice. Even if that requires her to face a most terrible form of treachery."

"It’s nothing new," Gandalf puffed upon his pipe and found no comfort in the refinement of the weed burning within it. "The Enemy has resorted to such evil before. Because of him, Turin fell on his sword and Nienor took her life."

"What the Enemy plans to do now far outweighs the tricks he used to confuse Turin and his sister Nienor, Mithandir," Galadriel retorted grimly. Even the exquisite perfection of her ethereal features could not hide the worry in her eyes as she thought of what the Evenstar would have to face in the coming days. "If he is allowed to succeed, we will have a greater threat to contend with then even Sauron."

"I know," Gandalf nodded. "I wish this did not have to be Arwen’s burden alone. She should share it with Aragorn."

"I wish the same too," Galadriel confessed. "For he loves her more than heaven and earth combined and would allow nothing to harm her or his unborn but he is just a man and a man has fallen to the Enemy’s trickery before. The Evenstar is an elf with powers of her own, she may be able to guard against the Enemy and not be led astray by his machinations. If we were to allow her husband to know the danger, he would be determined to protect her by going himself and that is something we cannot allow."

"Perhaps we do not have the right to make that choice for them," Gandalf reminded, feeling guilty at keeping secrets from Aragorn. When he learnt the truth, not even a former Maiar like himself was willing to face the fury of his outrage at being kept in the dark, especially when the danger was to his wife and child.

"I feel as you do Mithandir," Galadriel reached for his hand to make him see that this was difficult for her too. She had no wish to use either Aragorn or Arwen carelessly but what the Enemy was purporting to do could not be allowed to succeed under any circumstances. "I love them both dearly and my heart aches in fear at the danger that the Evenstar will face but it must be done this way. If she were to fail in the undertaking, we would face a danger far worse than any we could possibly imagine. This would be worse than Sauron acquiring the One Ring Mithandir, this would be the resurrection of powers no army of men, dwarves or elves could hope to combat and those who might have the ability to stand against it retreated from this realm in this First Age."

Gandalf took a deep breath, hoping it would steady him and knew that it would not. "So is she to go alone in this peril? When we dealt with Sauron and the One Ring, Frodo had the benefit of the Fellowship? Is Arwen not allowed to have such support."

"The Evenstar will find her own way," Galadriel replied. "There are allies for her in the strangest of places and she will find them. Aragorn shall not be completely forgotten in this but it must be his queen that paves the way for him to act."

She paused a moment and then added, "the time draws near Mithandir for our departure to the Western Sea. You feel its pull as I do."

"Yes," Gandalf nodded, knowing what it was that she spoke. "I feel it."

"We must vanquish these ancient evils before we leave," she explained although her words were nothing that he did not know already. "When we sail to the Western Shores, this world will fall to the race of Men and they do not have the power to deal with such evil. The dwarves and the hobbits will fade into myth but men will remain and as hardy as they are, their race is not blessed with a long memory. Those who come after Aragorn and the Evenstar will not remember us and if they do, we will be nothing more to them then legends. If the Enemy and others like him are allowed to remain after we are gone, they will exist in a world that will have no idea how to combat them and I for one do not relish that thought that the ages that come after us will exist in shadow."

Gandalf was in complete agreement with her on this point and yet in agreeing with her, he could not help feeling as if he were abandoning Arwen to a questionable fate. It was necessary that the Evenstar carry out this quest but he could not say for certain whether or not she was strong enough to prevail.

"I guess then it is time to visit Minas Tirith," Gandalf said after a long pause. "It appears that we have a celebration to attend."

***********

When the announcement was made at the opening of the celebration, that the Queen was with child, a rise of jubilation moved through the respective kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor like the swell of a wave coming into shore. The city of Minas Tirith had been transformed into a magical vision of lights and color for the occasion. People from all walks of life, whether or not they were lordly folk or mere commoners, turned out in their finest to enjoy the displays of jugglers, fire breathers and entertainers on the street. The city was filled with joy and everyone no one could help but enjoy the festivities on this momentous occasion. Ale and food flowed freely creating the kind of revelry not seen since the days of Isildur.

Visitors came from all corners of Middle Earth, be they men, elves or dwarves. For the inhabitants of Minas Tirith, they were also able to see for the first time, folk that they had only heard of in legend. To some, places like Rivendell and Lothlorien were a storyteller’s fanciful imaginings and not to be taken seriously as real. Thus when Lord Elrond and the Lady of the Wood made their arrival through the streets of the White City, no one was able to resist watching the procession of visitors making their way to the palace. While most were accustomed to the presence of elves, even the most jaded were feeling as if they were seeing a dream given form when Galadriel rode by in her robes of white. Their eyes remained fixed on her as if she was one of the Valar and their mouths were agape with wondrous fascination. The lady herself bore an ethereal smile as she traveled past, viewing their fascination with gentle bemusement.

The festivities continued into the night and the setting of the sun only brought forth more enchantment to the already marvelous day. As always, Gandalf the White provided spectacular amusements with his breathtaking display of fireworks, though not with the assistance of either Merry or Pippin who were warned well away from his wagon. The duo who learnt their lesson the last time, did not relish washing dishes for the whole city if they were caught indulging in mischief at the expense of the wizard's fireworks. Gasps and cries of excitement swept through the crowds as each explosion of color and fire superseded the last in the magnificent spectacle. Giant dragons trailed sparkles of glittering embers as they flew over head in the night air, followed by horses thundering across the sky and butterflies streaking past like clusters of falling stars.

The merriment was no less within the palace of the King. Old kinships were renewed with much vigor and friends, reunited, regaled each other with tales of their homeland and their adventures since parting.. Merry and Pippin found themselves relating the tale of Saruman’s mischief in the Shire to Legolas, Faramir and Eowyn while Gimli explained to Sam the tremendous undertaking that was the construction of the gates at Minas Tirith. Gandalf and Frodo sat together, discussing how the Hobbit fared now that he was home in his beloved Shire again. Gandalf had little opportunity to visit the Shire since the end of the War; his focus mostly centered on the rebuilding of the White Council in Isengard, creating a new order of wizards who would remain when he and the elves departed for the Undying Lands. The wizard regretted this, of course, because the Shire had always been one of his favorite places and Frodo one of his dearest friends.

"You have not married, Frodo," Gandalf pointed out as they took a walk along the long palace balconies. Beyond the edge, they could see the celebration in the city below them, with a myriad of lights twinkling as children with sparklers lit the streets with their play. "I thought that when you returned to the Shire you would get in the business of settling down like your friend Sam."

A small smile crossed Frodo’s features and when he raised his eyes to meet Gandalf’s the wizard noted the sadness in them. Sometimes Gandalf wondered if the quest had not ruined the idealistic, naïve hobbit he had once known and left this stranger behind that was so distant from all of them, even when he was in the same room.

"I think we both know that I will never do that," Frodo replied. "I have seen things Gandalf that have changed me forever and while I am grateful to be alive, I think that my life will never be quite what is expected of a respectable hobbit."

"You are still young, Frodo," Gandalf reminded, but his eyes said differently.

"But I feel terribly old, Gandalf," Frodo whispered, the blue moonlight showing the wizard that it was true. His spirit seemed worn somehow, aged beyond its years. Gandalf had known the One Ring had the power to sap the life of its bearer but seeing it with his own eyes was rather disarming.

"Perhaps what you need is a little adventure," Gandalf teased, knowing it was no answer but perhaps something the hobbit should give serious thought about. Frodo appeared as if he had seen the worst of life and was now done with it all together.

"Adventure?" Frodo stared at Gandalf in disbelief unable to imagine how the wizard could think that after what he had endured during the quest of the One Ring. "I think that is the last thing I need."

"I think that it is exactly what you need," Gandalf wagged a finger at him. "You need to remember what it was that made you survive the quest, the desire to return to the Shire when you feared you would not see it again."

"But I did return to the Shire and now that I have been there for some time, I do feel something of an emptiness." Frodo confessed and it did not surprise him that he would make such a revelation to Gandalf because had he told Sam, his friend would worry needlessly over his welfare. Sam was so happy to be residing with Frodo and Rosie in Bag End, that Frodo did not want him troubled for any reason.

"Things are happening Frodo," Gandalf gave himself leave to discuss some of the matters that had been troubling himself and Galadriel of late. "There are many evils other than Sauron that exist in our world and while they are not as terrible as the dark lord of Mordor, they warrant watching. In the coming days, the King of Gondor may require the aid of the Fellowship once more."

Frodo’s eyes widened. "There is nothing that Strider could ask of me that I might refuse Gandalf," he said earnestly. "If not for Strider, I would not have survived my first encounter with a Nazghul, let alone lived long enough to destroy the One Ring. What dangers do you speak of?"

"I cannot discuss it here," Gandalf replied much to Frodo’s chagrin for if there was one thing he could call a pet dislike about his old friend, it was Gandalf’s desire to talk in riddles. "It is not for you to hear until the time comes for the King to reveal it. However, it would be good if you remained in Gondor for a few days. If you must, instruct Sam to send Rosie home first but both of you should remain."

A shudder of fear moved through Frodo at the implications of Gandalf's words but he knew he would do as instructed. In the morning. For tonight was too was too joyous an occasion to spoil with thoughts of evils and dangers lurking in the dark. He would do so because the King, because Strider needed his help and Frodo owed him too much to refuse any request for aid.

"You can count on me Gandalf," Frodo said with more courage than he felt but knew he would find it within himself when it was needed.

***********

"So tell me Arwen," Eowyn, Lady of Ithilien asked as the two walked the gardens of the palace, away from the noise of the revelry. "How does it feel to have Isildur’s newest heir growing inside you?"

Since her marriage to Prince Faramir Eowyn had spent much time in Minas Tirinth. This was largely due to the time her husband needed to spend in the realm to confer with the King regarding the threat of the Orcs. Eowyn had become a trusted friend to the terribly homesick Arwen during these first months. As two friends, they could not have been more different. While Arwen had skin that Aragorn had often described to be as smooth as cream and hair like waves of jet, the sun touched Eowyn's skin and she had freckles across her nose. Her hair was like the gold of a sandy shore and her disposition just as breezy. They both shared a liking for the absurd and as Aragorn and Faromir had often remarked (beyond the hearing of their wives for they were wise men and valued their lives), they shared the same indomitable will that was capable of bending mithril when the mood took them.

Homesickness was something that Eowyn herself could appreciate for she too felt much alone when she had left her homeland of Rohan to take her place at Faramir’s side. In their loneliness and longing for their former realms, the two ladies had bonded in close friendship and now Eowyn would often journey with Faramir whenever he visited the White City in order to visit with Arwen. This had pleased the Prince to no end for he often claimed that the worse thing about leaving his home was leaving his wife and so this arrangement suited all greatly.

"You have an odd way of putting things, Eowyn." Arwen retorted with a smile, aware that Eowyn was teasing her. The Lady of Ithilien had a strange sort of wit, not unlike that possessed by Legolas in some way and Arwen knew that much of the reason why Eowyn was so dear to her was for that very reason. "However, to answer your question, I feel well. I am told that this will change as my child grows but I suppose it is the same for all women."

"Faramir is looking at me with strange eyes," Eowyn frowned. "I think your situation has inspired his own feelings for fatherhood, not that we have failed for the lack of trying." She laughed shortly and was joined by Arwen who knew perfectly well what she meant by that.

"I think a child will only form when it is ready and there is nothing wrong with enjoying each other before a third party arrives. Elessar and I have been waiting for each other forever and it feels as if we have loved for even longer then that, so it feels right that a child should come now," Arwen replied. She smiled wistfully remembering the searing night of passion that she and her love shared the day he learnt about the baby. "You and Faramir have been together but a few years, you should not worry about children just yet and let it happen when it does. If I were you, I’d enjoy the time when it is just the two of you for once the children come, the whole world changes for both. I know it has for Elessar and I."

"That's true," Eowyn agreed. "I think it is the male imperative to have a son that makes Faramir's eyes glow so," she chuckled. "Although for my part, I see no reason why a daughter could not do as well as any son."

"Says she who fought at the Battle of Pelennor," Arwen pointed out with a raised brow. "You astound me Eowyn by your courage. I do not know if I would have had the strength to do what you did."

"Nonsense," Eowyn dismissed such talk immediately. "You have faced the Nine on your own and brought the Ring Bearer to Rivendell when his capture would have meant the end of all, I would not be so quick to discount your courage in times of difficulty."

"So I suppose this means that if we have daughters, they too will be headstrong, determined and more than capable of defending themselves?" Arwen asked.

"I prefer the word self sufficient as opposed to headstrong," Eowyn smiled, her face lighting up whenever she did.

"Self sufficient, I do believe I like the sound of that," Arwen nodded with agreement before the two women exchanged glances and burst out laughing at themselves.

Suddenly, a beam of moonlight slipped past the clouds and struck the pond in the center of the garden. The reflection of its cool waters shimmered across the grass and the shrubs and into this breathtaking beauty appeared Galadriel, her white robes cascading behind her. She paused at the edge and looked across the pool and cast her gaze upon Arwen and Eowyn, her expression somber as she beckoned them forth. Even though Galadriel did not speak, Arwen and Eowyn could hear the words that the Lady words.

Come Evenstar, it is time to begin.

This, Arwen heard Galadriel say inside her mind.

Alternately, Eowyn heard Galadriel address her in the same manner although what was said to her was wholly different from what Arwen had heard.

Lady of Rohan, you must join us. She will have need of your friendship.

Neither spoke as they approached Galadriel and yet there was trepidation in both their hearts for they could feel the weight of something terrible approaching. There was a sense of ominous foreboding in both of them as they found themselves standing next to Galadriel. The Lady did not utter a word but she held in her hand a golden urn and waited until they were still and waiting for her to begin before she finally uttered a word.

"Evenstar," Galadriel said softly, her voice like a gossamer wind in Arwen’s ears. "There is something you must see, something I have a come a long way to show you."

"What is it dear Grandmother?" Arwen asked more than a little afraid. She knew what was contained in Galadriel’s urn but she feared to speak it.

"I think you know," Galadriel replied and poured the contents of the urn into the pond. The water trickled forth lightly, creating ripples on the unbroken surface that sent rings across its expanse upon contact.

"I don't know," Eowyn blurted out, feeling the same fear and reacting in the only manner in which she knew against such anxiety. "Tell me."

"All in good time," Galadriel said smoothly, accustomed to such impatience from the race of men.

Arwen swallowed thickly, looking to Eowyn and then Galadriel in anxiousness over what she would see. The Mirror showed many things; the past, the present and the future that had not taken place. It was a window into infinite possibilities and yet as Galadriel asked her to look, she felt uncommonly afraid, more than was usual for her. She was not a woman who cowered in fear at the first sign of danger. She had faced evil before and prevailed. But this thing that Galadriel would have her do frightened her in a way she could not explain and yet, she knew she could not refuse to do this.

Delaying no more, for it would only allow her fear more power over her mind, Arwen neared the edge and cast her eyes into the pool, to see what it was Galadriel needed her to witness.

At first, she saw nothing except water becoming stilled after its earlier turbulence, the ripples fading away into a smooth reflective surface. She could almost see the stars twinkling from the sky above and in the darkness of that, she drew comfort. Suddenly, one of those twinkles of light began to expand from a white pinprick of light to a raging inferno that turned the pool amber with flame. Arwen's breathe caught and she wanted to recoil but the images forming before her were was like a trap that had captured her mind and she could not resist them.

She saw her son.

She knew it could be no one else because he had the look of his father, her beloved Elessar, excepting perhaps that his hair was darker and his chin more set. He wore the armor of a King about to ride into battle and though she did not know him, she loved him immediately for he was beautiful in the way she could only dream. She watched him riding into the night, his banner held high with his armies behind him. But there was something strange about the soldiers, they did not appear as they should. For a brief instant of time, Arwen tried hard to discern what about them was so strange and suddenly, a flash of fire appeared in the vision, illuminating one of their faces and she understood why they had made her suspicious.

They were Uruk Hai!

Her son was the leader of an army of Uruk Hai! How was this abomination possible? There was little time to question this for the image changed again and this time, it was not of a handsome king leading his troops into battle, it was the image of a madman waging war against a torn and ruined city, she knew with certainty was Rivendell. Its tall spires were ablaze, like candles burning in the night. She could not hear the screams but she could feel them and the river that ran through her beloved childhood home was thick with blood.

And in the center of all this destruction was her son!

She knew without understanding how it was possible that he was bringing war to all his neighbors, not merely with the remaining elves with whom he shared his bloodline but also upon men, dwarves and any creature that might not submit to his will. Her child, the one slumbering even now in her womb as she watched this nightmare unfold was a monster! Hers and Estel's child would be an evil more terrifying than even Sauron! The horror of it was beyond her imagination. She could not believe that the Valar would allow an act of love between two parents to culminate in the birth of such a creature!

"WHAT IS THIS OBSCENITY?" Arwen shouted, stepping back from the pool, horrified beyond her ability to think.

"Arwen!" Eowyn immediately came to her friend's side as Arwen sank to her knees shaking in disgust and horror at what she had witnessed.

"What has she seen?" The Lady of Rohan demanded vehemently of Galadriel as she lowered herself to the ground to help her friend.

"She has seen what could be," Galadriel spoke, her expression showing pain at having Arwen see the terrible future before her and all of Middle Earth.

"What could be?" Arwen cried out, looking up at her grandmother with tears running down her face. "You turn this happy day into a nightmare and speak in riddles? My son cannot be this creature that I have seen! I will not believe it!"

Galadriel lowered herself to the grass next to Arwen, taking her granddaughter’s hand in hers as she spoke gently, trying to explain that there was a reason for what the Mirror had revealed to her. "You must believe it Evenstar. You must believe because it will come to pass unless you prevent it."

"I?" Arwen stammered, her mind reeling still from the images. "I do not understand!"

"There is an evil afoot, an ancient one that we have ignored too long for we had preoccupied ourselves with the threat of Sauron and his One Ring," Galadriel explained. "For many years, the Enemy has been watching and waiting and with the conception of your child, he has now brought his dark plans to bear."

"What Enemy?" Eowyn asked, furious that there could still be an evil that might bring forth darkness across Middle Earth after their hard won battles against Sauron. Had there not been enough brave men dying to prevent such a thing? Had not enough brave men died to prevent such a thing? How many more need die; how much more was needed before they could be truly free of it? "What is this new evil?"

"It is not new," Galadriel continued and turned her attention back to Arwen. "My sweet Evenstar, trust me when I say to you that all is not lost. What you have seen is indeed your son in the flesh but his soul was vanquished before he was born and replaced with another."

"Replaced?" Arwen exclaimed in shock. "Who then has possession of his life?"

"Melkor." Galadriel’s voice was barely a whisper.

Eowyn did not recognize the name immediately but Arwen certainly did. "That’s impossible!" She almost screamed in response. "He died, he died in the First Age! He was vanquished!"

"Melkor or Morgoth as he was known in the latter days was one of the Valar," Galadriel replied. "He was made by Ilúvatar himself and is almost equal to Manwe. He may have been bound to Arda when he chose to come here but like the Valar, he does not die. He may be disembodied but his spirit exists. The Enemy has decided that if he cannot serve Sauron then he will serve Melkor, who created him. Melkor cannot be resurrected without a vassal and so the Enemy has chosen your child for that purpose."

"No!" Arwen's cry was almost on the verge of hysteria. "I will not allow this! There must be a way to stop this abomination!"

"There is," Galadriel nodded. "The Enemy cannot perform the ritual that will resurrect Melkor until your babe is strong enough to accept such a spirit. It is too young and fragile inside you to make such an attempt so he will not try. You must stop him before that happens, Evenstar and only you can do this because as much as he hates us all, he cannot allow harm to be done to you. You are the mother of his future master and while he may kill all others around you, you are beyond him Evenstar."

"Elessar cannot know then," Evenstar met her grandmother’s eyes. "If he learns of this danger he will insist on fighting it and the Enemy will destroy him."

Galadriel had not told her that but Arwen was perceptive enough to guess that much.

"Yes," her grandmother answered somberly. "This is your quest, Evenstar, the fate of your child is in your hands alone."

"No," Eowyn stated, not understanding all of it but knowing with certainty that her friend was not going to go on this terrible mission alone. "I will go with you Arwen. I will pledge the sword of the Lady of Rohan and Ithilien in the service of my friend and my Queen."

Arwen closed her eyes, feeling tears of anguish rising up within her. She wanted to scream and shout at the unfairness of all this but she could not waste time with such displays. Inside her body, her son needed her to be strong for him, stronger than she had ever been in her whole life. She could not falter now, when so much as was at stake. She would accept Eowyn’s help because she was not foolish enough to think that she could do this without her friend at her side.

"Tell me then Grandmother," Arwen said finally. "Tell me what I have to do."

Part Two:
Quest

Upon returning to the great hall where the Fellowship and invited guests were presently continuing their revelry into the night, Arwen learnt that it was no easy thing for a Queen to preside over celebration that gave her no joy. How could she after glimpsing the future in Galadriel's mirror? Even as she took her place next to her lord, her heart was pounding so hard beneath her breast she feared that he might hear it through the din of chattering voices around her. The memory of what she had seen preyed heavily upon her thoughts. In the sea of voices around her, oblivious to the nightmare that was unfolding in the future, beginning with the slumber of her unborn infant inside her body, Arwen felt terribly alone.

If not for Eowyn’s comforting support during the course of the evening, Arwen did not think she would have been able to maintain the mask of the gracious queen she wore for the benefit of those around her. Galadriel had chosen to withdraw for the evening, with Gimli acting as escort. The dwarf had never quite overcome his infatuation for her grandmother and Arwen was certain that on some level, his adoration amused Galadriel. Her father and Gandalf were conversing about matters of great importance in the realm no doubt as Lords and Wizards tended to do when coming together.

Arwen was glad that Elrond was not paying his daughter close attention, for he would have been able to sense her distress just as Aragorn would. Fortunately the King's attention was occupied with the company of his old friends. Arwen knew if he were to observe her closely, Arwen would not able to hide the true depth of her anguish because like her, he would surely know that there was something terribly wrong with his beloved. She longed to tell Estel of this danger that threatened their child, to feel his strong arms about her and hear him speak bravely that nothing would harm either her or the babe while there was breath in his body to prevent it.

Arwen knew that he would be true to his word. He would put his life before hers and their child and as surely as she had seen it come to pass in Galadriel’s mirror, Arwen knew that he would die because of it. The thought of his life being cut short, taken from her so soon before they even had a chance to live a lifetime together was more than she could stand and it stilled her wish to tell him. Galadriel was right; while the Enemy required her child for his dark purposes, Arwen was the only one who was safe from him. One who was powerful enough to draw the dark lord Melkor from the void was more than capable of killing the King of Gondor and Arwen would not let that happen. With as much conviction that Aragorn would protect her, Arwen would not risk his life.

The maiden Immoen known throughout Gondor as the finest songstress in the land was now performing for her King and his guests. Her voice was a sweet melody that captured the hearts of all that listened. As she sang her songs of love and courage enduring through all things, Arwen's gaze touched that of her husband. His hand fell across hers, squeezing tightly as the full measure of his feelings expressed themselves silently to her in his eyes. Arwen knew that in that one instant that he was finally happy with his life in a manner that he had not felt since his coronation. Her heart soared at this knowledge but also plunged realizing that her course was now clearer than it had ever been.

This quest that lay before her was hers to fulfill alone. She could not risk him under any circumstances.

However, was it fair that she risked Eowyn's life as well? The Lady of Ithilien had pledged her life and her sword to her queen. As much as Arwen wanted her aid in this journey she would soon make, Arwen feared that Eowyn could be in as much peril as Aragorn. She cherished Eowyn as much as she loved her Estel and knew that in facing the Enemy, Eowyn would be vulnerable. The lives of men were so terribly short. If Arwen were to die in this quest, she would do so with the knowledge that she had a good long life as measured by Men and she was satisfied with the joy she had experienced. It was not so for Men whose lives were a star burning hot and bright but short. If Eowyn were to come to any harm, Arwen knew she would spend much of her existence from that fateful day regretting it, And yet she did need the help. What was she to do?

As the night progressed, she debated this question deeply and as the King engaged his old friends in conversation, Arwen noticed that Frodo Baggins was seated alone for a time, choosing to watch with a smile the Fellowship together, without participating himself. She stared at him for a moment, realising at that instant how much older he appeared from their last meeting. His face was as youthful as ever but his eyes, they had seen too much of the world and been marked forever by it. Arwen suddenly realized that if there was one person who might be able to aid her in her decision regarding Eowyn; it was the Ring Bearer.

After all, he had once made the same choice.

"You do not join in Frodo," Arwen said as she took the seat next to his, following his gaze as he watched Merry telling the most animated tale involving Farmer Maggot and tainted brew.

"I join in my own way, your highness," Frodo smiled pleasantly at her. "I found that one of life's pleasures is to watch ones friends at their best and keeping the memory to sustain you in the dark times."

"It is a good habit," she agreed and supposed he would have done that quite a bit during his journey to Mordor to dispose of the One Ring.

"And are you excited at your news?" Frodo asked, aware that he had not had much time to spend in her company since arriving here.

To him, Arwen would always be that wondrous creature that had stepped into his delirious mind when the blade of the Nazghul had almost forced him into shadow. She was then and was still, the most beautiful woman he had ever cast his eyes upon and although he would never speak it out loud, there was a part of Frodo that would always be a little in love with the Elven queen. How fortunate a man was Aragorn that she adored him so and Frodo felt gratified that the king appreciated her as the jewel she was.

"Yes," she replied attempting to sound as happy as a woman in her condition should be but it was a difficult façade to portray in light of what she knew about her child's fate. "I am terribly happy."

Frodo detected a flicker in her eyes of something undefinable but could not be certain of its cause and thought it rude to inquire after it, if she did not wish to tell him. "What would you wish for, a boy or a girl? I know it is tradition that you should want a boy but what are your feelings personally?"

Arwen swallowed thickly, never imagining that such simple questions asked so innocently could be the cause of such pain. It slashed at her, the hope in his voice, when she knew that this child was doomed to be a scourge if she failed in her mission. "I only hope that my child is born safely. I care not which gender he is though I think it will be a boy."

"Arwen," Frodo stared at her sensing melancholy in her words. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she smiled sadly, brushing away her sadness. "Frodo, if I were to ask you a question, would you be able to answer me honestly?"

The intensity in which she imparted the query took him back somewhat but he could never deny her anything. "Of course, we are friends and friends are honest with one another. Ask what you may and I will try to answer."

Arwen took a deep breath to steady herself for his answer, no matter how unpleasant it was. "When you left the others bound for Mordor on your own, why did you take Sam with you?"

The question surprised him and he had to confess, it was one that had not been asked of him before. He remember his thoughts at the time and how Galadriel’s Mirror had shown the consequences of failure if the One Ring were to return to Sauron’s hands. He thought about how Boromir had stared at the One Ring, thinking it a way to secure his people’s safety unaware that it was already swirling tendrils of darkness within his mind in readiness to take him. Boromir was a good man and an equally good friend. Until his attempt to take the ring, he had fought bravely along side the rest of them and after he had come to his senses, had died to protect Merry and Pippin.

After he had fled from the Fellowship, he had thought about how Boromir had succumbed and knew that it was not his fault. The One Ring was seductive and Boromir whose lands stood on the periphery of Mordor knew better than most what it was like to fight Sauron’s forces. If it had taken him first, it was only because he had the most reason to need it. Frodo had left because he had no wish to see the rest of the Fellowship suffer the same fate . However Sam had not given him a choice because his loyal servant was also a faithful friend and he could not deny that he was afraid to proceed onwards to Mordor alone. Still, there had been moments during that journey when Frodo had considered leaving Sam.

"I wanted to leave him behind," Frodo answered after a long pause, remembering that the point of all this had originated from Arwen’s question. "I did not wish to risk him as the others were risked but then he followed me, giving me no choice in the matter. I suppose I could have left him behind if I really wanted to but I think I was afraid that when I stared into the fires of Mount Doom when the time came to destroy the ring, I might not be able to. However, if Sam were there, he would see to it that I did what I had to. As it turned out, it was fortunate that he was with me."

"But how did you know that the One Ring might not influence him?" Arwen asked giving a short glance at Sam who was at the moment, seated next to his wife Rosie as Gimli told them tales of the Glittering Caves and his new home.

"Sam’s heart is purer than mine and I do think stronger. He thinks of practical things and when his course is set, he does not think about all the things that may go wrong or what dangers lie on the path ahead. He can only see the end of the journey. It is good to have a friend like that sometimes for he helps to keep you from straying from your purpose." Frodo concluded.

"What about the danger?" Arwen probed further. "Did you not worry that his life might have been endangered? That he might have fallen into shadow?"

There was a feeling of desperation to her questions that unsettled Frodo greatly and he wondered as to their purpose. However, he answered her nonetheless. "I worried about it at length but I also knew that I would not be able to convince Sam to abandon me nor did I have the right to force my will upon what was ultimately his choice."

Arwen shifted her gaze to Eowyn who showed no signs of worrying over what they would soon be embarking upon as she sat at Faramir’s side, listening to Merry and Pippin’s tales. Frodo was right of course but hearing his words did give her comfort at the choice to take Eowyn with her on this perilous quest.

"I suppose in the end, that is all that truly matters is it not?" She sighed softly.

"Arwen," Frodo said seriously. "You are troubled and this question does not seem to be in keeping with mere conversation. What is wrong?"

"I cannot tell you Frodo," she whispered softly. "And I beg you to keep what we have discussed between us. I have reasons for remaining silent which I cannot impart to you now but it is of the gravest urgency that you obey me in this, if you care at all for me or for Elessar."

"You need never beg anything of me Arwen," Frodo answered earnestly but the fear he saw in Arwen’s eyes was real and it made him question the sensibility of his agreement to her request. There were secrets that could kill, even those shrouded in the best of intentions.

"Thank you Frodo," she smiled wanly and knew that despite questioning its prudence, Frodo would keep his word and her confidence.

They spoke no more of secrets but it weighed heavily upon their minds until the evening ended and Arwen retired, leaving Frodo with anxious questions and terrible sense of foreboding that he may yet to regret what he had promised her this night.

*************

"It was good to see everyone again," Aragorn sighed happily as he lay contented on the cools sheets of his bed and held his wife’s warm body in his arms.

It was in the small hours of the night and their guests had either turned in or were still sprawled under tables were they had drunk themselves to a merry stupor. When Arwen had spirited Aragorn away to their bed chamber, the king of Gondor was certain he had seen Pippin’s small feet protruding from beneath the table where the hobbit had spent half the evening imbibing pints of drink. He did not think that a diminutive creature like such as Pippin could possess such a lusty appetite for hard drink and but to his credit, Pippin had managed to last Gimli and Faramir in this endeavor. As Aragorn lay his head against the pillow, he knew being king of the unified lands was not going to prevent him from suffering the aftermath of the evenings’ celebration and he hoped his wife’s talents for healing would spare him the torture. If not, he would have to seek out Legolas in the morning since it was known that elves were not the best of drinkers and Legolas’ attempt to keep up with Gimli was sure to have painful consequences.

"Yes it was," Arwen agreed, savoring the feeling of lying in his arms and in their bed, secretly aware that it was going to be the last night she would spend in his company until her quest was done. "I have forgotten how much I missed them all."

"So had I," Aragorn replied, breathing in the heady scent of her hair into his lungs. "Sometimes I think that day in the Prancing Pony happened to some other man because it seems so long ago and a lifetime away from where I know now stand."

"The world changes my love," Arwen smiled, her fingers tracing the bare skin of his chest with small circles. "You have simply changed with it."

"Until tonight, I did not know I could be happy as I might have once been though I wonder if I was ever truly content. I was always filled with uncertainty although I had much freedom and now that I am so certain, I have little freedom. I have yet to decide which is better." He replied softly. "But I have you to love and soon my child as well so I think I can be happy as King."

"I am glad," she said softly, her eyes fixed on his. "I want to see you happy Estel. You deserve it. You have brought pride to the line of Isildur and to the great kings of the past. When our son is born, he will have a father he can look up to."

Aragorn looked at her with mischief and remarked with a brow raised, "how is it so that you are so sure its going to be a boy? It could be a girl." He teased mimicking the words she had used when she had first told him of the news.

"It will be a boy, "Arwen replied softly, saddened by how she had come to know this fact. "I know it."

"I did not lie when I said I did not care what it is Undomiel," he raised her chin so that he could look into her eyes. "Any child that comes from you will fill me with joy no matter if it is a girl or boy."

"I know," she smiled and slid herself along the length of him so that she could capture his lips in a kiss.

Arwen kissed her precious Elessar and there was no terrible darkness waiting on the edge of her consciousness when her passion ignited his. She felt his body cover her own and forgot the sorrow of parting that would come with the morning. Everything was driven away for a brief time when they were the only two creatures in each other’s world and it was enough to fill their hearts with indescribable happiness. Arwen did not care what tomorrow would bring, all she knew was that she loved him and that this was possibly their last night together if she failed in what she intended to do. Shrouded in each other’s heat, their need for one another became an agonizing game of pleasure and pain, of touching and tasting and animal lust wrapped within the complexity of deep abiding love.

And when they were both completed, when he lay against her breast, the air soaked with the scent of their lovemaking, she watched him sleep. His face no longer appeared as Aragorn Elessar the King of Gondor and Arnor but rather like that of a boy worn after a hard day’s undertakings and prayed that it would not be the last time she saw him this way.

*************

Eowyn did not have so passionate a farewell to make with Faramir as Arwen but she did not mind it terribly. She loved her husband deeply even though once she had thought much of Aragorn. However, Faramir, younger brother of Boromir had won her heart with his gentleness and his understanding that she was a woman like no other and should be cherished for her differences. For that alone, she would love him until the day she died and while Arwen looked upon the quest ahead with much fear that she would not survive, Eowyn had refused to believe that this was the last night she would spend with her beloved.

Unfortunately, when he was in the company of the hobbits and Gimli, he seemed to lose all good sense and as she watched him snoring in their chamber, dead to the world, she could not help but smile at how peaceful he looked. Much too at peace for her to attempt to awaken him even if she would have been able to rouse him from his drunken slumber. Of course she did not berate him for his excesses in the company of the Fellowship and knew that it was not often that he could forget his station in life to be himself amongst people he could truly call his friends. Eowyn understood all too well what it was to live behind walls, even if they were erected around ones true self.

Eowyn rested all night at the side of her husband and only when the sun began its ascent into daylight did she stir to begin the day ahead. The merriment of last night ensured that he would not notice when she rose from her bed and prepared for her departure with Arwen upon this important quest. Even though she was now the Lady of Ithilien, she was still at heart the Shield Maiden of Rohan and her travel garments were the same that she had worn to disguise herself as Dernhelm when she fought at the Battle of Pelennor. Slipping into them gave Eowyn a sense of coming home and of melting into the person she was under all the finery that was a requirement of her station these days. Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, Eowyn felt more at ease with herself then she had in so long and realised how much simpler the days had been in years past.

Unfortunately, she could not linger indefinitely. She and Arwen had reached the same conclusion the night before that if either of their loves learnt of their plans, they would not be allowed to set foot beyond the palace walls, let alone go forth on this quest to battle an agent of Melkor. Taking the same blade with her that she had used to slay the Witch King, Eowyn was soon ready to leave. She stared at herself in the mirror briefly one last time, finding it a little startling to see the Shield Maiden of Rohan standing in the place of the Lady of Ithilien. However as always, Eowyn brushed aside such disconcerting thoughts for there was work to be done and time was short.

She crept to the bed where Faramir remained in deep slumber and found a little smile crossing her lips at the serenity on his face. She lowered her mouth to his and kissed him gently, though he did not know it for his black sleep, savoring the smell of him and the silk of his lips against hers. Sighing as she pulled away, Eowyn hoped he would not be too angry with her when he awoke and discovered what she had done. Casting a final look at him, she attempted to brand the image of her husband into her mind, so that she would have something to comfort her in the difficult days ahead before coming to the conclusion that she could not squander any more time with him. It was time to begin their journey.

As Eowyn, shield maiden of Rohan, stepped out of their chambers, she hoped Faramir would understand and knew that it mattered little if he did not; Arwen needed her and Eowyn was not going to fail her Queen.

********

"What is our destination?" Eowyn asked as they began their journey out of the White City.

Behind them, Minas Tirith was still bathed in twilight and the city was silent since much of its inhabitants were lost in the slumber following the celebration. The evidence of the last night’s entertainment was obvious by the remains of litter, unconscious people who had not managed to return home and colorful decorations that littered the streets. Arwen basked in the sight of the city, surprised that in the short time that she had called this place her home, it had become as dear to her as her home in Rivendell. Boromir had not lied when he described the beauty of the White City and she was glad that Aragorn was determined to restore it to its former glory, following the war with Sauron. In the distance, Gimli’s unfinished gates framed the edge of Minas Tirith and Arwen knew that once past that boundary, the White City would truly be behind them.

"We are bound for Nargothrond," Arwen answered Eowyn’s question as the partially constructed gates of Mithril began to tower over them on approach.

"Nargothrond?" Eowyn stared at her with astonishment. "Arwen, correct me if I am mistaken but did that not used to be part of the Sunken Lands?"

"Yes," Arwen nodded anticipating Eowyn’s reaction the moment she revealed the name of their destination. "It was a part of the lands that was ally to Numenor. The home of Melian and Thingol."

Eowyn remembered the tales of Numenor, the ancestors to the peoples of Gondor and Arnor.

"Which is now under the sea." Eowyn reminded, aware of the history of the place they intended to journey.

"The Blue Mountains remain and we do not have to journey to Nargothrond itself," Arwen replied. "My grandmother told me what we seek lies in the foot of the Blue Mountains in what remains of the Forest of Brethil, where Turin had fallen."

Eowyn had been present when Arwen was given her vision in the Mirror of Galadriel but elves had a way of speaking that did not need words. She was certain the Lady of the Wood in this manner passed more of what was known of their quest to the Queen of Gondor. Eowyn was accustomed to the manner in which elves purported themselves for they were wise and far older than she had breathed life on this earth and so she did not question their need to keep some things from her. In a sense, it was prudent for they were embarking upon a perilous quest and should she fall, Eowyn would be most disturbed to think that anything she knew might harm Arwen by her being forced to reveal it.

She considered what Arwen had just told her before speaking as to what their next course should be. "If that is our course than it would be best served if we traveled by way of the Anduin River. We can seek shelter in Cair Andros and travel by land past Rauros Falls. The river would allow swifter progress in our journey and we can acquire fresh horses at Lothlorien."

Arwen could not disagree with Eowyn’s plan and travelling along the river would ensure that their chances of encountering danger would be less. Orcs preferred the land and the Anduin was wide and would take many days from their journey northward. It would keep them from travelling the Eastern Shore and from Lothlorien, they could journey to Rivendell. Despite the importance of the quest before them, Arwen felt a little pleasure knowing that she would see the valleys of Imraldis once again and once the elves had parted for the Western Lands, who knows if she would ever see it again? When the elves were gone, the power of Rivendell would fade and the city itself would disappear into the valley forever.

"I adhere to your counsel in this Eowyn," Arwen replied after a time. "I do not know these lands as well as you and we must make haste to reach our destination."

The anxiety in her lovely features was apparent and while Eowyn had no wish to pry, there were some things she needed to know if they were to vanquish this evil that was threatening Arwen's unborn babe. "Arwen, I know that you can only tell me little but I need to know something about what we are embarking upon if I am to be of any use to you."

Arwen sucked in her breath, not wishing to think about what lay ahead, but that was impossible since her whole reason for leaving Minas Tirith and Aragorn required her to keep their dark task in her head.

"Galadriel told me not of what we will face when we arrive at our true destination which is not the Forest of Brethil. We only journey there to find what we will need to vanquish the Enemy once he unmasks himself. Galadriel says that to know his name is to force his hand. His powers are weak I am told and though he is still powerful enough to harm both Aragorn and Faramir should he put it in his mind to, the Palantir in his possession does not allow him to see all as it did in Sauron’s hands. He will act rashly if we were to expose him to quickly."

"So that is why we must leave in secret?" Eowyn ventured a guess.

"Yes," Arwen nodded somberly. "His Palantir allows him only to see Minas Tirith and places of his choosing but it cannot show him what he does not know. Galadriel does not explain but there is something about the Enemy that does not allow him to use the Palantir as fully as it he should. He knows that I am with child but he cannot see into my heart and Galadriel was able to prevent him from seeing my audience with her when I looked into her Mirror."

"So he does not know that we are aware of him," the lady of Ithilien mused. "Surely he will suspect when he discovers we are no more at Minas Tirith?"

"He may but he will not be certain of our course until we reach the Blue Mountains." Arwen explained it as Galadriel had done to her the night before. "If we can accomplish our task there quickly, without interference we may be able to reach him before he is able to infect my child with Melkor’s dark spirit."

"How much time until your babe is strong enough for him to do this?" Eowyn asked once more.

"No more than thirty days," Arwen whispered. "I have until the next full moon to save my son or I will give birth to a child that is Melkor in human flesh."

Arwen closed her eyes in anguish, unable to speak any further because the horror of that was more than she could bear. Her body shook with emotion and her hands tightened around the reins of her steed with such intensity that her knuckles became white. Tears wanted to spill from her eyes at the unfairness of her lot but she knew that it would avail her nothing. It would not change that the Enemy was going to harm her baby unless she prevented it.

"It will not happen," Eowyn’s hand clutched her own.

Arwen looked up and met Eowyn’s eyes to see in them a substance harder than mithril. "I swear to you Arwen, not only as your friend but as your loyal subject and the one to whom I pledge my sword to, I will die before I allow my future king to be blighted in such obscenity. We will stop him Arwen, I promise. We will stop him."

It meant a great deal to Arwen that Eowyn should make such a strenuous proclamation. "Thank you Eowyn," she said warmly. "It means much to me that you say that. You are a true friend."

"Well," Eowyn replied with a hint of mischief, intending to bring a smile to her friend’s face. "That goes without saying of course."

Arwen laughed a little and was glad that her emotional torment had passed for the time. Eowyn was right. They would stop the Enemy. They would stop him or die in the trying.

**********

When Aragorn awoke the next morning, he found himself alone.

His head ached painfully, reminding him starkly the evils of drink should never be underestimated and he grimaced at the throbbing inside his skull when he chose to sit up in his bed. Glancing at the empty space next to him where Arwen should have been, Aragorn felt a little hint of disappointment at her absence. He was not so lost in his drunkenness the night before to forget the memory of their passion and it filled him with a great desire to hold his wife in his arms and tell her that he loved her. No doubt she was somewhere in the palace, attending her own affairs, whether it be concerning the matters of the royal household or more broader tasks involving the kingdom itself, he had no doubt that she would appear soon enough.

Still as he climbed out of bed, there was this feeling of uneasiness about him, one he could not dispel lightly as much as he tried. He went through the rituals of morning, dressing and making himself ready to move about his court and appearing kingly as he did so, still possessed by this sensation that something, somewhere was not right. These were instincts that he had relied upon for much of his life that saved him and many others on more than one occasion. He could not understand why he should feel it now in this most benign of places. Tense, he continued out of his royal chambers, gripped in this feeling that something was coming but he knew not what it was.

Making his way to the great hall, Aragorn was certain that the hobbits would be awake by now, hangover or not. His long friendship with them had taught him one thing about the halflings, that not even Sauron himself could make them miss breakfast, or second breakfast he added to himself with a snigger or elevenses for that matter. Arwen had probably left him slumbering in order to see to their needs. The Queen had a great fondness for the little ones, ever since she took charge of Frodo when the Nazghul blade during the quest of the One Ring wounded him. When he had been in the throes of shadow, Arwen had maintained a vigil at his bedside along with Sam, after her father had administered with healing and Arwen had taken upon herself to attend to his recovery following it.

Before he even reached the hall, he could hear the excited chatter of Merry and Pippin emanating down the corridor. The sound of their animated voices brought a heartfelt smile to Aragorn’s face for it felt like old times again. However, before he could pass through the doorway into the hall, he heard someone’s voice behind him.

"Aragorn," Legolas was approaching and the king frowned. He should have known that the only person who could sneak up on him was the Prince of Mirkwood.

As Legolas approached, Aragorn was forced to stifle a smile for the prince did not appear to have the spring in his step that the king was accustomed to seeing. In fact, for someone so fair, it was safe to say that at the moment, the expression on Legolas’ face was positively grim. Fortunately, the disposition of his old friend did not appear urgent merely annoying to himself and Aragorn had something of an idea as to why he was feeling as such. He recalled the drinking contest of sorts engaged by Gimli, Faramir and the hobbits Pippin and Merry last night. Legolas being the friend he was to the dwarf had joined in for good measure but it was a known fact that Elves were no good with spirits, as Legolas was now finding out for himself Aragorn was certain.

"How do you fare this morning Legolas?" Aragorn asked.

"I think I’m going to be ill," Legolas grumbled.

"The nearest window is in that direction," Aragorn said helpfully.

The Elf gave him a look through narrowed eyes. "If you were truly my friend you would kill me and end my misery."

"I thought elves were known for their ability to endure," Aragorn teased. "I am certain that your suffering will pass."

"Not soon enough," Legolas grumbled as the two resumed their journey to the hall where the smell of food was wafting towards them.

"Tell me," Aragorn asked as they approached the entrance. "Did you see Arwen anywhere?"

"No," Legolas shook his head. "I have not. Why?"

"Its just that I have not seen her this morning," Aragorn replied, feeling once again that uneasiness that did not dissipate with Legolas’ arrival, merely shunted aside briefly until now. "I wonder where she is."

"She is probably seeing to your guests," Legolas responded, noticing the concern in Aragorn’s face as genuine worry.

Aragorn supposed that was possible. After all, they were host to some of the most prominent people in Middle Earth for this celebration. Lord Elrond of Rivendell was here, Galadriel of Lothlorien, Faramir of Ithilien and Eomer of Rohan and he was certain that Arwen felt a little self conscious playing hostess to such a prestigious collection. She was Queen as long as he had been King and while he had numerous chances to prove himself since beginning his rule, Arwen’s opportunity to shine in her position was limited to occasions such as this. Prior to the arrival of their guests, she had been a flurry of action, moving across the palace, ensuring everything was perfect.

"I am sure that you are right my friend," Aragorn smiled and then patted Legolas on the back and grinned, "come along Legolas. Let us get some food into you. I am certain, meat off the bone, tender and red, covered in thick gravy and eggs bubbling with fat will make you feel so much better. All that food churning in your belly, bubbling with last night’s spirits….."

Legolas glared at him and muttered under his breath, "and to think I saved you from the Orcs."

*********

If there was one thing that Aragorn would never become accustomed to, no matter how long he ruled in the White City as king, it was the sight of everyone standing up whenever he entered a room. He resigned himself that such would be the reaction of all until the end of his days and had learnt to tolerate this unhappy symptom of his elevated status. But Aragorn had to confess, it felt even stranger when he saw his friends carry out this duty of royal protocol. He bade them to sit as soon as they had made the attempt and glowered at Legolas who was getting his own back at Aragorn’s earlier teasing.

Merry and Pippin well into breakfast and possibly second breakfast as the pile of food on their plates indicated that it was not their first helping. Frodo was a little more sedate and without Sam at his side. This did not surprise the king a great deal since if he knew Master Gangee with any accuracy, the hobbit and his lady were no doubt traipsing the sprawling gardens of the palace, enjoying the scenery. Elrond was also present, engaging in conversation with the former ring bearer and the Lord of Rohan, Eomer. Unlike his Mirkwood cousin, Elrond had been sensible enough to stay away from drink the night before and appeared quite well. Gimli was enthusiastically feeding himself for dwarves were capable of fashioning themselves stomachs made of iron as was the common joke about their ability to handle drink.

Faramir however, seemed to be trouble and Aragorn wondered what was the cause of it as he joined his friends and was served his breakfast by a serving maid. She then attempted to do the same for Legolas but was waved away by the elf. Faramir’s concern however did not seem passing and lingered on his face even after Aragorn had greeted him and he had responded in kind. He knew that Faramir would not confide in him unless he asked because in that way, the Lord of Ithilien was much like his brother Boromir. Even though Faramir was not the friend who had fallen during the quest, Aragorn would always feel the same responsibility towards Faramir that he did to the White City because of his promise to Boromir at his death.

"You seem troubled," Aragorn said quietly to Faramir, whom he had beckoned over.

"It is nothing," Faramir replied brusquely, clearly bothered.

"Faramir," Aragorn looked at him. "I am not merely your king, I am your friend. Tell me what ails you? With Legolas it is clearly too much drink."

Legolas, who was seated beside him, muttered something in Elvish that Aragorn did not wish to translate nor let be made known publicly. He did not know the Elves knew such words.

Faramir cracked a little smile at Aragorn's attempt at levity and decided that if he could not trust his king, he could trust his friend and Aragorn was right about that much; they were friends. "I cannot find Eowyn."

"That is hardly a cause to worry," Aragorn replied but inwardly, he was tensing because he now noticed that Arwen was not present either. "She is probably somewhere with Arwen. I have not seen the queen this morning either." 

"I would not worry at all for my wife is very capable of fending for herself, except…," he paused hesitant to speak further for it might confirm what he feared to admit.

"Except?" Aragorn stared at him and by now, Legolas was also paying attention.

"She took her sword and her travelling clothes with her."

Suddenly, Aragorn could fully appreciate why Faramir was so concerned. Eowyn would not take her sword with her unless she was intending to use it. If she had taken her travelling clothes then it was certainly not to do so here. "Faramir," he finally spoke. "Have you see Arwen at all this morning?"

The Lord of Ithilien’s eyes widened, realising that perhaps his situation was not entirely unique. "No," he shook his head. "I have not."

Aragorn stood up abruptly, feeling his heart pound. "Has anyone seen Arwen or Eowyn this morning?" He asked loudly, silencing everyone in the room with his question.

There was a long pause and Aragorn saw by the blank stares that were aimed at him that no one had seen either his wife or Faramir’s at all this morning. Aragorn had not bothered to check Arwen’s things when he had left his chambers but he was certain that if Eowyn was absent, his wife was as well. There was nothing but his own heart to prove this but he could not believe anything else. As his gaze swept across the faces of his friends, he noted something in Frodo’s that was slight, almost a flicker actually but it was enough to catch the King’s sharp eye.

"Frodo?" He stared at the hobbit no longer as Strider or Aragorn but rather as King.

Frodo sat up straighter in his seat, appearing clearly disturbed now that Aragorn had singled him out and hesitated briefly, as he sought an answer. "I promised her I would not speak of it."

"Promised her?" Aragorn started to become more worried. "Promised Arwen?"

"Yes," Frodo nodded. "I do not wish to betray her confidence."

"Tell them Frodo," Gandalf the White’s voice sailed through the room and drew all eyes to him.

With him was Galadriel and as they swept into the room, they forced away the atmosphere of levity that had preceded them and replaced it with growing foreboding. Aragorn felt his heart starting to pound with worry that something terrible was about to be imparted upon him. The uneasiness that had dogged him all morning had now found its time and he lowered himself into his chair, waiting for the news that would tell him he had good reason to feel so much anxiety.

"But Gandalf," Frodo protested, not ready to break Arwen’s trust. "She was terribly insistent I did not say anything."

"He need not break Arwen’s faith, Mithandir," Galadriel smiled at the hobbit in admiration for his devotion to the Queen of Gondor. "We will tell Aragorn what he wishes to know."

"And I as well mother," Elrond said with just as much fear as Aragorn now. "She is my daughter as she is his wife. If there is a threat to either, I will know it now."

"Arwen has embarked upon a quest of her own," Gandalf explained, aware that the tempers in the room were frayed and it would take only a little for them to snap.

"A quest?" Aragorn sputtered. "She is with child! She is in no condition to go on any kind of quest!"

"She must go on this one," Galadriel answered calmly in stark contrast to Aragorn's harried tones. "It involves your child."

"And Eowyn went with her," Frodo mused, understanding at last the need for Arwen’s odd questions. "There is some great danger afoot isn’t there?"

"Yes Frodo," Gandalf nodded somberly, anticipating a loud outburst from Aragorn when he did.

"What danger? If there is a quest or some danger to our child, I should be the one to fulfil any quest. Not her!" Aragorn boomed. "How could you keep this from me, either of you?" He demanded, his eyes filled with accusation.

"Please understand that it is not our wish to see the Evenstar harmed," Galadriel hastened to explain. She could understand his frustration and his anger. Arwen was his wife just as she was Galadriel’s grand daughter. "The quest had to be fulfilled by her. She alone can fight the evil that threatens us all."

"And what part does Eowyn have in all this?" Faramir demanded just as angrily as Aragorn had.

"She pledged her sword and her life to her queen," Galadriel answered.

"That is why she asked me about Sam," Frodo sighed, understanding ever better now. "She asked me why I took Sam with me to Mordor, even after I left the others. She wanted to know if it was right to take him, even if it might cost him his life."

"Undoubtedly, she was worrying whether or not it was right to take Eowyn," Gandalf ventured a guess.

"What is this danger that she alone must face?" Aragorn asked, barely able to restrain his anger or himself from riding out immediately after his wife.

Gandalf and Galadriel exchanged glances, knowing that there would be no peace with Aragorn or anyone else for that matter until they learnt the reason for Arwen’s and Eowyn’s flight from Minas Tirith. Neither could blame those assembled for their anger, especially Aragorn’s for it was not only his wife at risk, it was also his child as well. As a king, a husband and a soon to be father, it was his natural instinct to wish to protect them both but he had to be made to understand why it could not be him, even though she suspected it would do little to hold him back. Still it might give him pause when the time came for him to decide what was more important, his pride or his child.

"Melkor." Galadriel answered in one word and braced herself.

"MELKOR!" Elrond exploded. "You send my daughter alone to face MELKOR?"

Melkor.

For an instant, Aragorn was filled with such fury that he could not think. He knew who Melkor was and he knew the legends of the former Valar who was equal to Manwe, who took physical form in the First Age as Morgoth and brought war upon the lands of Middle Earth. It had taken the combined strength of the Valar and the Maiar to destroy Melkor and return him to the Void. Did Galadriel expect him to believe that sending Arwen and Eowyn alone to face such horror to be any way to deal with such a threat? However, he restrained himself, giving Galadriel a chance to explain because he had to believe that there was a good reason for her actions.

"It is not Melkor that she will face," Galadriel saw Aragorn’s pause and was grateful for the chance to speak. "It is one of his minions who has chosen to resurrect Melkor by using your unborn child as its vassal. The Enemy seeks to bring Melkor's essence from the Void and infuse it into your son's body, displacing his soul for Melkor's own."

"By Valar," Aragorn heard Legolas whisper in shock while Elrond had dropped to his seat in horror.

"And you sent her to fight him?" Aragorn managed to speak, his voice nothing more than a low hiss.

"She is the only one who can fight him Aragorn," Gandalf answered for Galadriel. "While your child slumbers in her womb, the Enemy cannot harm her. If he were to harm either your wife or child, his plans will not come to fruit. However, if you were to go and attempt to face him, he could kill you and anyone who goes with you easily. He has that kind of power. It must be Arwen that goes because she can use his need for her safety as a weapon against him."

"And what of Eowyn," Faramir demanded coldly of the wizard. "What of my wife? Is she as safe?"

"Eowyn pledged herself to her Queen," Galadriel stared at him. "She is not safe but she is a good warrior and will acquit herself well."

"Where did they go?" Aragorn asked quietly and in a tone of voice that not even the Lady of the Wood would dare defy.

"Arwen has to find the tools to with which to battle the Enemy and her journey would have taken her north, towards Lindon."

"To the Grey Havens?" Elrond asked.

"No," Galadriel shook her head. "Beyond to the Blue Mountains, into what was known as the Forest of Brethil. She must recover the weapon of Turin."

"Then that is where I will go," Aragorn pushed himself away from the table.

"You must let Arwen complete this task," Galadriel implored. "You are vulnerable. She is not."

"You do not understand do you?" He stared at the Lady of Lothlorien. "I love her more than my life itself and if any harm befalls her, I will be done with this world. You assume she cannot be harmed but if she refuses to submit to the Enemy, what assurance do you have that he won't kill her out of sheer malice? I know my wife, perhaps better than you, Lady of the Wood. Did it not occur to you that if she cannot defeat the Enemy, she would kill herself rather than allow him to use her or our child to bring Melkor’s evil into the world?"

"She would not do that," Galadriel retorted, not anticipating the possibility. Elves were immortal but those who chose mortality did so at great cost and consideration to themselves. Life was not something to be squandered and taking one’s own was beyond comprehension. Why was there such need when all one needed to do to escape the pains of this world was to simply sail across the sea to the Undying Lands? Yet, Evenstar had always been something of an aberration. She had done nothing that was expected of her and so could Galadriel say for certain that she might not chose such a course if there was the possibility of failure?

"Yes she would," Elrond hissed with as much anger. "If she for one minute thought that her child would be the source of such destruction upon Middle Earth she would not hesitate to make the sacrifice."

"Lord Eomer," Aragorn turned to his trusted comrade, no longer looking upon the troubled visage of Galadriel. He was too angered by what he had learnt to do so, aware that he may be uncivil to the lady and he did not wish to disrespect Undomiel’s grandmother, though she sorely deserved it in his opinion. "I would request that you remain in Minas Tirith and oversee the kingdom for the duration of my absence."

"Of course Sire," Eomer nodded obediently, for Eowyn was his sister too.

"I will go with you Aragorn," Gandalf offered, wishing to be present to counsel Aragorn when the time came.

Aragorn was also angry at Gandalf for keeping his secrets with Galadriel, however, their long friendship stilled his fury and Gandalf’s knowledge of the events transpiring was needed for the journey ahead. "I will be grateful for your counsel in this mission."

"My wife rides with yours," Faramir stared at Aragorn. "Thus I will ride with you. I pledge my sword to my King as my wife has done for her Queen."

Aragorn smiled gratefully and could not refuse his aid; after all he was right. Eowyn was in even more danger than Arwen. "Thank you my friend."

"You will need my sharp eyes and senses, such as they are at the moment," Legolas added his voice into the mix. "When my head stops hurting, I am certain I will be of use to you."

"Well you cannot go out there with so much danger armed with an elf who can hardly hold his drink," Gimli’s loud voice boomed in Aragorn’s ear.

Legolas frowned at the dwarf whom he had considered to be his good friend, wondering if it was such a bad thing if he were to accidentally shoot the dwarf in the behind with his bow once they were out in the open. "Your consideration to you king is admirable," Legolas glared at him.

"I would be glad to have your company, Gimli, son of Gloin," Aragorn smiled, glad to be surrounded by so many good friends, who were willing to ride with him on what was clearly a perilous quest. Suddenly he was reminded of being back in Rivendell again, in that Council meeting where Elrond disclosed the re-emergence of the One Ring and the growing threat of Mordor. When Frodo had agreed to take the One Ring to Mount Doom, he had suddenly acquired a slew of companions who would make the journey with him. As his friends offered themselves to him, he now understood why Frodo had been willing to walk away from them in order to spare their lives.

"And what about us?" Pippin stepped forward, staring at them reproachfully for forgetting the contingent from Hobbiton. "Clearly you'll be needing people of some intelligence in this expedition. Before you say anything Merry," he glared at his friend. "I know where we're going."

"Arwen is as dear to us as she is to you Strider," Merry said seriously, ignoring Pippin for the moment. "We would be honored if you allowed us to ride with you."

"And I would be equally honored to have you Masters Brandybuck and Took." Aragorn replied graciously before his eyes rested on Frodo. "And you Frodo?"

"Sam is seeing Rosie home as we speak," Frodo announced giving Gandalf a smile. "I had some idea that you might need us and made preparations accordingly. I am sorry I kept what I knew from you Strider, Arwen begged me not to speak of it and I can never deny her anything."

Aragorn let out a heavy sigh, remembering the night before, how she felt when he kissed her, how she had whispered his name in his ear when their bodies were one. He closed his eyes and in a split second all that she was since the day he met her, tugged at his heart. He loved her so, his beautiful Undomiel and the thought that she was beyond the safety of her home, preparing to fight a battle she may not win not only for him, but also for their child, made his soul cry out in torment. He could not lose her. Being king, being alive meant nothing without her. In this life, meeting her had been his finest hour and if he had to die to keep her and their child safe, he was willing to make the sacrifice.

"It is alright Frodo," Aragorn answered with more empathy than Frodo might suspect, "I understand all too well how you feel."

"Aragorn," Elrond came to him. "She is my daughter, my Evenstar but you have been as a son since you came to us in Rivendell, I would see you safely back as well."

It meant a great deal for Aragorn to hear Elrond’s words knowing that it had not been easy for the Elven Lord to accept his daughter’s desire for the mortal life with him. "I will bring us all back safely if it is in my power."

"I believe it is," Elrond smiled as his gaze swept over the faces present. "There is very little you cannot do when your Fellowship is with you."

Aragorn smiled, realising that he was right. The Fellowship would prevail and hopefully, with it so would Arwen and Eowyn.

Part Three:
Shelob’s Children

With the White City behind them, Arwen and Eowyn began their long journey to the Blue Mountains, travelling through the meandering vein of the mighty Anduin River whose water flowed through much of Middle Earth. To Arwen’s great surprise, it was far more difficult than she had believed possible to leave Minas Tirith behind her. Two years past when she had bid Rivendell farewell to take her place at Aragorn’s side as his wife and Queen, Arwen had done so with a heavy heart. For though she knew her destiny awaited her in the White City, a part of her would always miss her childhood home. Yet as the Anduin bore her further away from Gondor’s heart towards an uncertain future, she found herself pining for Minas Tirith intensely. It was a strange thing the heart, Arwen decided, that it bestowed its affections so easily upon a place that in her reckoning, had existed for only a hair's breadth of time and yet in that short space had come to mean as much to her as Imladris or Lothlorien.

She knew that much of her sorrow had to do with the quest that lay before her and the yearning for Aragorn and the strong comfort of his arms. As they sailed down the river, her hand rested gently upon her belly, almost as if she could feel the life slumbering within, needing to feel some connection with the babe she carried for he was the all she had of his father. Arwen loathed her weakness and her desperate need for her beloved Estel. She needed to be strong for both her husband and child. What good could she be to either of them if even now, she pined for one while travelling to face the evil that sought to harm the other? She wished she had Eowyn’s strength for Eowyn did not shirk in the face of danger, nor did she yearn for someone else to protect her from it. Eowyn’s way was to face the enemy even if the enemy was her own frailty.

Eowyn noticed her Queen's distress but said little to call attention to it. If it were her facing such terrible evil, Eowyn would know Arwen’s fear as well. She remained strong for her sovereign because Arwen needed her to be in order to draw strength from her own courage. While she did not speak it out loud, Eowyn was filled with admiration at what Arwen was attempting to do. It was a hard thing that Arwen intended, to seek out an Enemy that was almost certainly capable of killing them both, in order to protect the unborn child in her womb. Lesser women would have turned to their men by now for such protection but not Arwen, her love for her King was only superseded by her bravery and though she fought in ways that were not of the sword, she was no less formidable in her own right.

They traveled, engaging in pleasant conversation, as if they were taking a trip to visit an old friend, rather than embarking upon a crusade that could see them both dead before it was done. Eowyn tried not to speak too frequently about the Enemy, aware that Arwen was mindful of him enough already. There was no reason to remind her of what they faced. They sailed down the Anduin, revisited by past journeys and reminiscing about the days when life was not as complicated or as changed as it was now. Yet despite their best efforts, the shadow of the Enemy still lingered at the edge of their consciousness. It denied them forgetfulness from danger they were moving swiftly towards for more than an instant, never allowing them, even for an instant, to forget the danger they were moving towards.

The first break in their journey took place at Cair Andros though they remained there only briefly for Arwen was eager to resume their travel to the north. She had until the next full moon to vanquish the Enemy or else be faced with an unimaginable choice that she had yet to reveal to Eowyn. Arwen knew Eowyn’s devotion to her as a friend and to her queen would not allow the Shield Maiden of Rohan to sit by idly if she intended to do harm to herself. In truth, Arwen had no wish to embark upon such a course. However, her thoughts were fixed not merely upon her beloved Estel or the torment of he would suffer knowing his son was going to become such an instrument of evil but also on the fates of all the races of Middle Earth. Melkor could not be allowed to live again. knowing his son was going to become such an instrument of evil, but also on the fates of all the races of Middle Earth. Melkor could not be allowed to live again. Middle Earth had barely survived the reign of Sauron and was not ready to endure a source of even greater darkness.

As frightened as she was that she might lose her child if she failed, Arwen was even more afraid of what would happen if she did not lose him and still failed.

At Cair Andros, Arwen and Eowyn encountered Galain, the Steward of the island fortress in which the city was encased. Galain had fought alongside Eowyn at the Battle of Pelennor Fields and the two former comrades in arms were more than happy to lay eyes upon each other again. Galain was doubly honored that he not only had the Lady of Ithilien as a guest but also Queen Arwen herself. He inquired after her husband the king and gave hearty reports as to the state of affairs in the region, citing that Orc activity had been driven northward back to their traditional lands where the Misty Mountains and the Grey Mountains meet. Galain offered his apologies for being unable to attend the celebration at Minas Tirith, a trespass Arwen obligingly forgave upon hearing and gave him the King’s best tidings, knowing that Aragorn would have done so had he been present.

Neither Eowyn nor Arwen told the man of Cair Andros the true purpose of their journey.

Arwen revealed only that the impending birth of her child had sparked in her a desire to see the places of her childhood. Thus she was travelling to Lothlorien and Rivendell while she was still able, before the swell of her baby’s growth kept her bound in the White City indefinitely. Galain, a man married with a host of children, understood this desire for his wife was a lady of spirit and was more than happy to aid his queen in so personal a desire. He provided Arwen and Eowyn with fine horses each and offered them passage to the Western Shore for they could not cross Rauros Falls by way of the Anduin and could only pass it by travelling by land.

They left Cair Andros after remaining in the company of Galain and his family for a night. Although he invited them to stay longer, for it was a great honor to his house to have so distinguish a guest as the Queen, Galain understood her need to depart and bid her and the Lady Eowyn well on their journey. A boat ferried them from the fortress to the Western Shore with Eowyn mindful of everything from the instant they set foot on dry land once again. Although Galain was convinced that the Orcs were no more a plague within this region, Eowyn was not anxious to see him proven wrong with Arwen in such a delicate state. She insisted upon maintaining a brisk pace past the falls so that they could return to the safety of the Anduin in journeying towards Lothlorien.

Upon reaching the shore from Cair Andros, they allowed themselves to follow by the flow of the Anduin, as it rushed speedily towards Rauros Falls. Even from the land, the ladies of Gondor and Ithilien could see the currents moving swiftly towards the turbulent cascade of the great river and in far quicker time then they thought it possible, they soon caught sight of cloud like spray that arose from its churning waters. Of the great cascade, they saw little unless they desired to follow the land and stand upon the rocks near the shore where it emptied , but theirs was not a mission of leisure. It was one of urgency and sensibly, they turned their horses to an easier path in the woods to take them beyond its fury.

They had not journeyed very far when they reached a wood clearing that Eowyn had never visited but knew well enough from the King’s stories about the Fellowship and her own husband’s recollections from his one visit. At first, she had not realised that she had come upon the place, however, upon reflection; she realised that it could be no other since they were so close to Rauros Falls. The 'Hill of Sight' known to most as Amon Hen offered them a sweeping view of the wood beneath and as Eowyn stood there, with Arwen watching in equal silent reverence, she could almost feel the presence of the man who had died here. Eowyn knew little of life after death, if such a thing existed for the race of men as it existed for the Elves. Yet as she stood in silent vigilance of what she knew not, it felt as if he had never left this place and would always be bound to the wood in which Boromir had fallen.

"It was here," Arwen remarked, feeling the same sadness as she knew that Eowyn was enduring. "Here the Fellowship was broken."

"It was not his fault," Eowyn said softly with her back facing away from the Queen, her eyes glistening with tears that she would not show to anyone, not even to Arwen. "He was a good man and though I never loved him as I love his brother, he was a friend. He just wanted so badly to help his people and the Ring used that need to seduce him."

"Faramir does not know?" Arwen asked.

"I saw little reason to tell him," Eowyn wiped her tears away and met Arwen’s gaze. "We met only but once and it was while Faramir was still a Ranger of Ithilien. It was on the eve before all the trouble with Mordor began and he had come to my father's court with his own father, the Steward of Gondor, to discuss a possible marriage. I did not love him and he knew it but we accepted that if it must be, we could be friends at least. When the War of the One Ring was done, I saw how the pain of his brother’s loss hurt Faramir, so I remained silent. In truth, there was little to tell him other than for a very brief instant of time I could have been Boromir’s wife."

"The halflings Pippin and Merry watched his end," Arwen said softly. "The halflings Pippin and Merry watched his end," Arwen said softly. "They said he fought nobly, even after he tried to take the One Ring. I do believe they love your brother as much as they do for he is also their last link to Boromir. I know Estel would not have become the King he is if he had not known Boromir."

"He always had the ability to infect people with his cause," Eowyn allowed herself a sad smile. "When he spoke of the White City, you could almost see it with his words. He loved Minas Tirith so, you could see it in his eyes and feel the same longing for it after a time."

"Do you wish to make camp here tonight?" Arwen asked, feeling much empathy for Eowyn at this time. It was a sad thing to lose a friend and what might have been. She had met Boromir briefly but her impressions of the Man of Gondor had been no different than Eowyn’s. He had been a good man with heart enough to fight a world of Orcs if it meant saving his people and it was the greatest obscenity of all that the One Ring was allowed to twist such noble intentions into such dark desire.

"No," Eowyn shook her head. "I had been meaning to come here for some time, to say my own farewells and I have done so. I will always think of Boromir as one who could have taken my heart if there had been time enough but what we might have been is a feast never served and I do love Faramir."

"I think that would please him," the queen said knowingly. "I think Boromir would be happy that you and Faramir have found each other."

"I think so too," Eowyn replied and let out a heavy sigh, dispelling all the grief and sadness that had been lingering in her heart for the last two years over this matter. She had wanted to come here long before this but doing so would require telling Faramir why and she was not ready to do that. Perhaps one day she would be able to tell him the truth but at this moment, it was enough that she had made this one pilgrimage.

Composing herself, she turned to Arwen and gestured to the horses. "Come," she started towards the animals tethered to a tree not far behind them. "We should continue. We have much ground to cover."

************

And so they resumed their travels, travelling steadfastly through the day after leaving Amon Hen past the rushing waters of Rauros Falls. Once Boromir’s final resting place was behind them, Eowyn’s mood improved vastly and made a brisk pace towards Cadras Nar, a small fishing village that would be able to furnish them with a boat to continue their journey down the Anduin. Eowyn was eager to reach this riverside community because she was of staying out in the open, especially when the Enemy might be seeking his prize now that she had travel beyond the boundaries of his palantir and out of his seeing. They rode without pausing even though Eowyn suggested that it might be wise to do so since the Queen for all her resilience and determination was still with child and should take caution with the life inside her. However, Arwen was equally resolved to forge on ahead and so they traveled deep into the evening, until the sun had set.

The first thing Arwen noticed when they arrived at Cadras Nar was the silence.

She thought perhaps that the hour was too late for these folk and they were all to bed. But as they entered the streets of the small town upon their horses, the animals seemed troubled and it took some urging to force them to continue. There were no lantern lights beckoning them through the windows in any of the cottages, nor did smoke rise out of chimneys. There was not even the sound of livestock in the barns or footsteps in the distant. There was nothing at all.

Arwen and Eowyn rode past the local tavern, often the most popular place in such villages and saw that it too, was devoid of any folk. The sign hanging upon its entrance swayed back and forth aimlessly in the wind and the door lay wide and inviting to the darkness. Eowyn’s hand dropped to her sword, for there was something of this place that reeked of danger. The silence overpowered them and made Arwen shudder with trepidation. There was the visible stench of death but how that might have taken place was beyond either of them, for if it were not for the lack of people, all appeared as it should..

"There is something a foot here," Eowyn said softly. "I do not like the look of this. We should leave."

"Yes," Arwen agreed readily. "Should we continue onward or should we try to find a boat and depart by way of the river?’

"I would like to leave this place as soon as we can," Eowyn confessed as she remained astride her horse, her eyes searching the darkened streets for some sort of answer to the mystery before them. "However, I would rather we travel by river to put some distance between us and this place. On the river, we can see danger coming, not be overwhelmed by it like this terrible silence."

Arwen could not fault her for that reasoning and confessed to having a desire to be upon the water as well. Her powers as an Elven Princess were slight, even more so since she had become mortal but in the river, she was able to wield some magic and it could be enough to protect her if the peril that had overtaken the village of Cadras Nar chose to attack. "I concur with you on this," Arwen replied softly, not daring to speak any louder in case something stirred in the dark. "I too would rather continue our journey from this place by boat. Our horses will return to their masters once we are gone."

"We must find a vessel to take us then," Eowyn replied, nudging her mount towards the edge of the river, in order to make such a search.

There was a terrible feeling of foreboding in both of them as they reached the shore of the river and dismounted. Their horses were still fretful and both riders were required to soothe the beasts’ anxiety lest they should bolt in their fright and leave Arwen and Eowyn stranded in this silent village. There was no doubt in either Arwen or Eowyn’s minds that the people of Cadras Nar were dead. Even though they had seen no bodies that might give proof of this, the two women could feel the stench of doom that had befallen this place. Something terrible had happened in this place and both were eager to leave before they endured the same vile fate.

Following the shale covered shore, Eowyn and Arwen soon caught sight of a pier to which fishing boats were tethered. They remained anchored, appearing just as desolate as the homes the women had seen upon first entering the town. Neither spoke as they made their way to the forgotten collection of vessels, varying in size and use. There were larger fishing boats, which were constructed to catch a great abundance of fish, there were smaller boats that appeared to be for smaller catches, probably enough to feed ones family and finally there were canoes built for travel which was precisely what they needed.

"If you go seek out a boat and make it ready for our use," Eowyn replied as she stepped onto the wooden dock. "I shall unpack our things from the horses and lead them on the road away from here."

"Are you certain that is wise?" Arwen stared at her in concern, not eager to be parted from her travelling companion in this eerie place.

"I will not stray far," Eowyn replied promptly, understanding her fear all to well. "I shall only go onto the road and release the horses. We have no need of them once we leave and I should not like to think they might fall prey to whatever happened here."

"Alright," Arwen nodded, she swept her gaze across the shoreline and felt the hollowness in her stomach increase at the sight of the darkened houses that travel up and down its length. "Do not be long."

Eowyn nodded and turned away to tend to the unpacking while Arwen stepped onto the dock to find them a means of leaving this place before whatever darkness that engulfed this village found them.

*************

 Eowyn was mindful of every sound as she walked cautiously through the small street leading from the shore into the main track that had brought them into town. She heard nothing and this disturbed her further for there was not even the sound of a mouse stirring or an owl hooting its call in the night. The woods beyond the village seemed comforting now and Eowyn could not deny as she removed the reins from the mouths of both steeds that she wished she were there now, taking comfort in the surround of trees. Being out in the open like this made her feel vulnerable, especially when the community of Cadras Nar felt like a tomb.

She took a deep breath, forcing the fear churning in the pit of her to a far place because she had no patience to deal with such things when she needed to be alert at this time. Having unpacked the horses and leaving all their belonging near the dock where she had last seen Arwen, Eowyn ran her hand against the smooth flank of her horse and then repeated the same comforting gesture on the steed that had borne Arwen all this way. The horses were clearly unhappy at remaining in Cadras Nar and Eowyn guessed that it would not take much to send them on their way. She was reluctant to let them go but knew they would find their way home. No doubt, the sentries on the fortress of Cair Andros would see their return on their shores and claim them.

"Safe journey," she said quietly as she slapped both animals hard on their rumps, startling them somewhat but giving them the imperative to move quickly. She had no wish to cause them harm but Eowyn did not wish them to remain in the village any longer than they should. The horses snorted their indignation at such an abrupt dismissal and immediately broke into a robust gallop down the muddy street. In a matter of minutes, she could no longer hear their thundering footsteps against the dirt.

Once they had gone, she immediately turned up the way she came, intending to join Arwen on the dock and complete their own departure from this place. She reminded herself that upon reaching Lothlorien, she must ask Lord Celeborn to send word to Gondor or Rohan in order to learn what had happened here. The folk of this village had to be somewhere yet she could not imagine any violence that could wipe all traces of them from existence.

Even Orcs left bodies behind.

She was making her way up the small lane that would take her back to the dock when Eowyn heard something moving. It was a strange sound, almost like a flapping of a bird’s wings except that it was too fast for any bird in flight. The sound originated from what appeared to be a boathouse for there were wooden ramps leading to it from the shore. At first, she had considered ignoring the noise for she suspected that there were things in the darkness here that she did not really want to discover. However, when she heard the sound again, this time laced with something she could only call desperation, Eowyn found herself unable to ignore the peril and followed it to its source.

The interior of the boathouse was bathed in darkness and upon her first few seconds into its confines, she heard the sound even more clearly. Its flapping was now accompanied by a desperate but soft chirping, like that of a bird, though extremely weak. Through the window, the glow of the crescent moon illuminated the darkness slightly, though not much and as she followed the noise to its source, Eowyn instinctively unsheathed her sword. She had not taken more than a few steps when she caught sight of a lamp. Deciding that a little more light would probably aid her foolish investigations, she liberated it from its place on a tool bench and saw that the wick was damaged and unable to reach the oil that would ignite it. Not wishing to linger any more than she had to, she made her repairs as she walked towards the noise, her weapon tucked under arm momentarily.

The bird was trapped in mid air and Eowyn wondered how this could be as she saw it in front of her, appearing suspended. At first she could not understand how this was so until the lamp finally lit and the room flooded with light. There was little more than an instant for her to register what was before her before she stumbled back, her mouth open in shock and a scream was trying to find its way out of her throat. Instead, she dropped the lamp to the floor and the room was suddenly bathed in an amber glow. The poor helpless bird that had been trapped was one of many. As Eowyn stared with eyes widening in nothing less than sheer horror, she knew at last what had befallen the people of Cadras Nar because some of them were in front of her.

Trapped on a giant spider’s web.

Their bodies were desiccated, drained of blood, it was the manner in which their murderers fed and Eowyn barely contained her revulsion as she saw corpses of men, women and children alike, suspended over her head. What they were could not even be recognized as human if not for their clothing and with horror she noticed that some of the corpses were not intact. She reached out, her fingers trembling as she saw the corpse of a child wrapped up in the silken threads of the web, hoping against hope that there was still some life left for her to save. She but only grazed her finger tips against the body and the exertion proved to much tension for it broke free of its trappings and landed heavily upon the ground. Her scream was short but heartfelt as she saw what remained of a little boy staring at her with dead eyes. It almost made her wretch with disgust if not for the fact that she made a startling realization through her fear.

She was not alone.

She almost missed its advanced for, despite its size- and it was larger than anything that could possibly be crushed underfoot - it knew how to move stealthily. She saw it from the corner of her eye, a flurry of movement that did not have the fluidity of fire and when she turned around, she found herself staring into its compound eyes. She may have been the Shield Maiden of Rohan but even she had shuddered when Frodo told his tale of meeting Shelob, the giant spiders that had been spawned of Ungoliant in the earliest days of Middle Earth. Shelob had met her end at the hands of Samwise Gamgee and though Eowyn did not think that this was she, it did not lessen the danger.

Yet one of these creatures could not have taken Cadras Nar completely, without one person escaping to tell the tale. As the beast came upon her, Eowyn understood that this one creature could not have done this alone because it was not. There were more! A panic stricken thought impacted upon her senses. Arwen! She did not know! She must be warned! Unfortunately, Eowyn’s ability to do so was hindered by the fact that one of the creatures faced her now, moving in for the kill. She saw its mandibles snapping in anticipation of her blood and the fire burning behind her, having consumed the web and the poor souls trapped upon it. Eowyn produced her sword and thought quickly, for she could not spend too much time dealing with this creature when Arwen might be deadly danger.

Its legs snapped into motion and the creature rushed at her, spitting poison in her direction as it came. Eowyn jumped out of the way, thankful that there was space to keep her from falling into reach of its lethal jaws. Though it was larger than her, it moved with terrifying speed and was soon coming at her again. This time there was no way for her to avoid it and Eowyn lashed out fiercely, tearing through its darkened flesh and eliciting an unearthly howl from the creature. In retaliation it stabbed one of its spindly legs in her direction and though she tried to evade it, nothing could keep it from penetrating the flesh of her shoulder. Eowyn let out a sharp cry of pain and felt the rage bubble in her from the injury. Striking out viciously, she felt the blade sink into the spider’s crimson eye and pulled back with just as much vehemence.

A screech of agony escaped the spider and when Eowyn retrieved her blade, it was dripping with black blood. Partially blinded, the wound enraged the spider and it lunged at her, preparing to cover her with its foul body. Eowyn saw its intent and jumped herself, sliding beneath its form across the floor, coming to a halt only after it had landed in the place where she had been. She rolled onto her knees and saw it swinging around, preparing to launch itself at her again. Blood was flowing freely down her shoulder and she knew that she needed aid but more importantly, she had to reach her queen while she still could. Grunting in pain, she thought quickly for she had spent enough time evading this creature and saw that the fire was now burning in the rafters of the building. The heat stung at her skin and sweat began to run down her forehead. She saw the tall flames behind her and knew that there was one way to end this quickly.

Instead of preparing to flee, she stood her ground defiantly, challenging the beast to do its worst. For an instant, the spider was uncertain of what she intended but then pain and hunger set it forth again and it scampered across the floor in the obscene fashion of its body, preparing to devour her. Its fangs snapped in readiness of the feeding of fresh blood, having been ravenously consuming little things since the people of Cadras Nar had been exhausted. It was of a few driven from Mirkwood following the War of the One Ring and here in this small community, the feeding had been good for awhile. The warrior maiden before it would be tasty morsel that would satisfy its hunger for a good while.

Eowyn saw it approaching and braced herself, ignoring the fear in her heart and reminding herself resolutely that this would only succeed if she defied her fear. The creature closed the gap between them swiftly and as Eowyn saw herself in the reflection of its uninjured eye, she thought she might falter but did not. There was an instant of clarity when the spider’s fangs opened in readiness to feed where Eowyn could almost feel its fetid breath upon her skin, where it was coming at her too fast to stop. In that one instant her mind forgot itself and her instincts took control of her and she jumped out of the way, while her would be killer continued on its path.

It realised too late what she intended and tried to stop but its bulk and speed was propelling it forward and the spider could do nothing but offer a terrified screech of vain desperation as it ran straight into the fire. The flames consumed it quickly and soon Eowyn found herself witnessing the sight of the creature burning alive and writhing in agony. Its eight legs kicking wildly as it tumbled onto its back, driving even more disgust into the pit of her until she could no longer look. Eowyn turned away when she heard the creak of the wooden banister above her burning away until it was prepared to collapse. Grabbing a piece of timber, she turned it into a torch and ran out of the structure beset with flames before it collapsed in on itself.

With her sword in one hand and her torch in the other, Eowyn left the wreckage and went to find Arwen.

************

After Eowyn had departed, Arwen had sought out the vessel that would best serve them and untied its moorings so that she could lead it to shore. The smaller canoes were not terribly heavy and she managed easily to pull it onto the shale beach in order to pack their belongings on to it. She tried not to pay attention to the anxiety she felt at being in this place and wondered when Eowyn would come for she disliked being here alone. There was too much opportunity for solitude in this village for her liking as it was and she also worried that Eowyn might be found what it was that had happened here if she were away too long.

She continued to pack their things into the boat, ensuring that the weight was well distributed for it could make their travel difficult if it were not done properly. However, she kept glancing over her shoulder because she could feel something at the edge of her consciousness, nagging at her. With all that she was enduring of late, it was perfectly understandable that she should feel so anxious about any unknown in her life. Still, there was something ominous in the air that made her wish Eowyn would hurry in her task and return for Arwen was feeling more anxiety than she would have liked to admit.

Suddenly, she heard a scream tear through the night.

Arwen stood upright immediately and knew that it was Eowyn’s voice that had cried out so. Her heart began to pound as she unsheathed her sword and ran up the beach, hoping that Eowyn would cry out again so that Arwen could find her. However, there was little need of that because she could see one of the boat houses alive with flame. The building was slowly burning and Arwen needed no second sight to know that it was where she would find Eowyn. However, as she approached the burning building, something else emerged from the darkness that immediately stopped her approach.

Spiders.

There were two of them, emerging from the houses that had been dormant. Arwen knew that they had seen her for their vile eyes turned in her direction and their legs were poised to move in correspondence to her actions. She wanted to run but Eowyn needed her aid, she could not leave! Brandishing her sword with more courage than she felt, she sought a way around them and saw none.

"Let me pass or you shall feel the sting of my blade!" She hissed as she slashed at the air before one of them, in order to show them that she made no idle threat.

The one on her left lunged and Arwen dropped to her knees, seeing the power in its attack and knowing that it would fly above her head. She raised her sword as it moved above her, its tip biting into the beast’s plump abdomen and tearing it open. Black blood spilled forth and Arwen felt some of it on her clothes and almost choked in disgust. The creature screamed in rage and its companion moved in while Arwen was distracted with the first. The Queen of Gondor saw the spindly legged creature rushing at her and let out a cry of horror because she could not escape in time. No sooner than the sound had left her voice she heard the spider squeal in agony as a thick piece of wood was slammed right into its round body.

"ARWEN, watch out!"

The piece of wood was ablaze and as the creature struggled to rid itself of the instrument upon which it was impaled, the fire spread out across its body. Arwen let out a gasp of surprise and relief when she saw Eowyn running forward, placing herself between the other wounded beast and her queen. She moved swiftly, far swifter than Arwen ever thought possible and slashed her blade in a wide arch. The remaining spider screamed in agony as Eowyn took its head. Arwen turned away as the foul creature’s head tumbled from the rest of it and rolled across the beach.

"Eowyn!" Arwen noted the blood on her shoulder. "You are hurt!"

"I am fine," Eowyn said exhausted and looked at the town to see more dark shapes emerging. "We have to go! I fear these are not alone. This village has become infested with Mirkwood’s remnants. We must be away to tell King Thranduil of what transpires here!"

Arwen could only nod for her eyes were fixed upon the other spiders that were fast approaching them. Without wasting any time, the two ladies immediately hurried to the boat, for only the waters of the Anduin could protect them now. Arwen took charge of the boat when they reached it for as bravely and fiercely as Eowyn had fought, the shield maiden of Rohan was hurt. Nevertheless she accepted Eowyn’s help for nothing could convince the determined woman to desist. They pushed the boat into the water, caring little that they were wet, not until they were far enough from the shore to board it and paddle swiftly away. Both women paddled quickly, drawing further and further away from the shore and beyond the reach of the spiders.

As they cast their gaze upon the shore, Arwen and Eowyn gasped as they saw how many spiders there were on the shore, pacing up and down the length of it in frustration, unable to reach the prey that had killed three of their own. Behind the vile creatures, the fire that Eowyn had begun had been captured by the sweep of the wind and the flames were moving to another home and appeared as if it would not be satisfied until the entire village was theirs.

"We must get you to Lothlorien," Arwen said once they were far enough away from Cadras Nar to stop their insistent paddling.

"It is nothing," Eowyn grunted as Arwen examined her wound.

"You are as stubborn as a man about such things. I would have thought that the Shield Maiden of Rohan would have better sense. Those foul creatures usually have poison in their bites, you will let me administer to your injuries. As your queen I demand it," Arwen stared at her imperiously.

Eowyn groaned and stared at her petulantly. "I think it is exceedingly unfair that you should use your royalty to force me to obey." She grumbled.

"I know," Arwen smiled. "Do I not do it well?" The elf asked with a twinkle of mischief in her eye.

Eowyn rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "elves."

************

As the Fellowship pursued Arwen and Eowyn down the Anduin, Aragorn gazed upon his travelling companions and was struck by the familiarity of their situation. Once again, the Fellowship was embarking upon a great quest but it was not theirs to fulfil. That duty belonged to Arwen who had been left behind when they had gone to destroy the One Ring. Until now, Aragorn had not known what torture it was to remain behind while loved ones departed to face untold dangers. How had Arwen borne it when he had left Imladris to take on the duty of leading the Ring Bearer to the fires of Mount Doom? It had always been a woman’s lot to wait behind and pray that her loved ones would be delivered to her safely. Until now, Aragorn had no idea how strong one had to be to endure such uncertainty. It was steel known only to women for he could not imagine anything worse than to leave Arwen to her fate and his very presence here was a testament to how much stronger than him she truly was.

Faramir, who was steadily paddling his boat ahead with Merry and Pippin, appeared just as anxious, though the Lord of Ithilien tried not to show his worry. His wife was a brave woman and a cunning warrior. If there was one woman who could acquit herself in any kind of peril, it was certainly Eowyn of Rohan. Yet like Aragorn, Faramir was all too aware that she would not be facing any ordinary foe and the Enemy of whom they had scant knowledge, seemed greater than anything that Eowyn had ever faced. He was afraid for her and rightly so and no matter how much he tried to tell himself that she would fare well in protecting herself and her queen, his love for her made him fear the worse. Faramir hoped that they would not be too late when Eowyn and Arwen were finally found.

Meanwhile, within his own vessel, Legolas was silent. He had been for some time now and though this was not unusual for him as far as his friends were concerned, the Prince of Mirkwood was somewhat troubled. His heightened senses were on full alert because he could feel something bordering the edge of his perception and the sensation it produced with that unknowing was ominous. As he rowed the boat in tandem with Gimli, his eyes scanned the shoreline that ran parallel with the Anduin, trying to learn what this danger was that was coming upon them. At first, he had hardly noticed it for it was the way with elves to notice all things but then as it grew darker in his mind, he started to feel anxious.

"What is it?" Gimli asked when he had paused in his rowing to sweep his gaze against the lands that flanked them.

Legolas did not answer immediately, "I do not know," he replied and that was the whole truth. He did not know, he only felt it.

Gimli knew to trust the elf’s senses for on too many occasions, his perception had saved their lives. He stiffened in tension, disliking this feeling of not knowing from whence the danger was coming. "What do you feel?" He asked quietly for there was no need to alarm everyone just yet.

"Its closeness," Legolas answered and his words made Gimli even more wary.

"Perhaps it is the Enemy that the Queen and the Lady Ithilien have gone to face," he suggested in the hopes that the discussion would abate his anxiousness.

"No," Legolas shook his head. "It if were the Enemy, I would know it instantly. Darkness of such magnitude is not easy to miss. This is smaller but dangerous, I am certain of it."

"The foolishness of it," Gimli snorted in annoyance. "What could they be thinking? Rushing of like that to the peril of both their lives to face who knows what, without telling us. This should be a quest handled by all of us, not two noblewomen."

Legolas raised a brow at Gimli before remarking with some measure of reproach. "They are hardly two noblewomen Master Gimli, Arwen is the Evenstar, she has been alive a great deal longer than you. She has always known how to take care of herself and Eowyn has slain the Witch King of Angmar and fought with us at Pelennor. I don’t think that there are two more capable women of carrying out the task before them."

"You know that I have only the greatest respect for the fairer sex, after all Lady Galadriel holds a special place in my heart. But this quest upon which she has sent Arwen and Eowyn is ill thought. Arwen is with child and should be guarded, not traipsing about the countryside to face who knows what." Gimli retorted though with little real anger in his voice.

Legolas suspected that he could never feel anger at anything that Galadriel did because the dwarf had been infatuated with the Lady of the Wood since his first encounter with her. In truth, much of Gimli’s disposition towards the elves had altered because of that meeting and it had smoothened the way for their close friendship. He knew that Gimli’s feelings about what Arwen and Eowyn had embarked upon were mostly tempered by his affection for both. Legolas felt the same way. Arwen was like a sister to him and he loved her dearly and Eowyn was a comrade in battle as well as friend. He feared for their safety not merely for his own reasons but for that of their husbands who even now, tried to hide their extreme worry from the rest of the Fellowship.

Overhead the sun was starting to set and though Aragorn wanted to travel further, he knew that they needed to rest. They had been journeying down river for almost a day and the weariness was starting to seep into his limbs. He knew that it would not be wise to press on to the detriment of their physical state when they finally reached Arwen and Eowyn. Besides, he suspected that they might seek shelter themselves, after all Arwen was not accustomed to travelling at such an arduous pace and he knew his wife well enough to suspect that she would take care not to harm the babe by straining herself.

The Fellowship aimed their boats in the direction of land and stepped onto the Western Shore. By the time the sun had disappeared into the horizon, they were all gathered around a campfire watching the dance of flames. They feasted upon some rabbits that Legolas and Faramir had managed to snare. As usual the hobbits had a good store of food with them as well and Sam who was accustomed to taking care of his master, did the honors of cooking. The conversation around the fire as they ate was not at all lively as it had been during the celebration in the White City.

"What route do you think they would take to the north?" Frodo asked, more as an effort to dispel the awful silence around the campfire rather than any desire to know.

Aragorn looked up from his cup of mead as if he had been a thousand miles away and shook the distraction from his mind as he addressed the hobbit. "I think they would journey down the Anduin to Cair Andros."

"Yes," Faramir agreed with that assessment. "I believe that Eowyn knows the Steward of Cair Andros. They fought together at Pelennor."

"Galain is his name," Aragorn volunteered, having met the man once. "He would offer them shelter for the night and perhaps horses."

"Horses?" Frodo asked.

"Yes," Gandalf replied before Aragorn could. "They would need to travel by land to avoid Rauros Falls. I believe they would be bound for Lothlorien."

"It would be faster to reach Lindon by crossing the Misty Mountains." Pippin remarked in between chewing his food.

"That would require travelling through Fangborn Forest and Isengard over land," Legolas explained. "The route down river is safest and the one I think Eowyn would select to lessen the burden of the journey on Arwen."

"I thought that we got rid of all the Orcs," Merry frowned, disliking those creatures intensely after his encounters with them during the Fellowship and at the battles after.

"Not all of them," Gandalf rumbled. "They are like insects, they merely go to ground until they are needed by some dark malevolence to guide them. Until then, they scavenge for what they can."

"Sauron’s forces were many," Aragorn sighed, wishing he had spent more time these past two years ridding Middle Earth of that particular threat. Unfortunately, he was a king who wished only the best for his kingdom and after the war, there had been so much rebuilding to do. The Orcs and the Uruk Hai, powerless without their master, had not been that much of a priority.

"We had vanquished many during the War of the Ring but some had fled after he was vanquished. With all that we had suffered to defeat Sauron’s darkness, there were simply too little resources to spend on seeking them out and finishing them once and for all. We had to address our wounds, rebuild what was destroyed and bury our dead."

"But what is left of them seem to have grown bolder of late," Faramir pointed out, recalling the focus of their attention prior to the announcement of Arwen’s condition. "They have been emerging from their places, attacking the border lands, fleeing before the rangers can deal with them. It is as if they are preparing."

"They are readying themselves to ally with the Enemy," Gandalf replied with a low rumble, his eyes lifting from the pipe he was smoking.

"Who is this Enemy?" Frodo asked his old friend.

"I cannot say," Gandalf responded and saw the anger flare in Aragorn’s eyes over the secrecy. "It is not that I do not wish for you to know Aragorn," he quickly explained to still the King’s ire. "There is reason for my secrecy. If he knows that we are aware of him, he may not use the powers with which I can trace him back to his dark lair. As powerful as he is, he is vulnerable beyond his place of power. If Arwen and Eowyn reaches him before we, it may be the only way we have to find them. We cannot take the chance of the Enemy eluding us when it is Melkor he is attempting to resurrect."

Aragorn swallowed thickly and saw in Gandalf’s eyes that he was speaking earnestly. Gandalf had been a true friend and while the ways of wizards could be maddening at times, he also knew that Gandalf would not intentionally keep the identity of the Enemy unless there were good reason for it. He breathed in deeply, as much to calm his anger at this whole situation as it was to accept the wizard’s word.

"We have been through much together old friend," he cast his eye upon Gandalf. "I will trust your counsel in this."

"Thank you,’ Gandalf bowed his head slightly and the gesture was not merely one of thanks but gratitude at the faith Aragorn had placed in him.

"If you cannot tell us what he is, perhaps you can tell us something of his powers." Legolas asked in an effort to give Aragorn something more than just riddles.

"I can do that," Gandalf nodded deciding that he could do that much at least. "He can cloud the minds of men."

"Cloud?" Faramir asked, not liking the sound of that at all.

"Yes," the wizard blew another puff of smoke from his pipe. "He can make them believe a thing with such fierce determination that they can see nothing else but the illusion."

"That’s quite a trick," Sam exclaimed. "How can we fight something like that?"

"By not trusting our eyes," Frodo answered automatically. "What we see can be just as deceiving as what we hear."

No one questioned the Ring Bearer on this point for he knew all too well the deception the eyes could play upon a person. For so many years, a simple gold ring had been to him nothing more than an heirloom of his uncle’s. Who knew that it was a Ring of Power? From a gold band it had transformed into the instrument that could destroy Middle Earth. Following the odyssey to see the accursed thing destroyed had changed Frodo forever. It had turned an idealistic hobbit into something of a cynic who seemed to feel that the best that life had to offer him had come and gone and the days ahead would be merely obligatory.

"So we must questioned all that we see?" Gimli grumbled, not liking the sound of that. He preferred to meet his enemies face to face, to settle everything in one decisive bout of combat. This business of illusion and mental trickery reeked of cowardice.

"We should merely be alert," Gandalf advised.

"Well if the ladies are travelling to Lindon then they would come pretty close to Hobbiton," Merry spoke up for the mood around the fire was much too grim for his liking. "

"I would hope not," Faramir retorted.

"What is wrong with Hobbiton?" Pippin demanded, taking Faramir’s comment as something of a slight to the Shire.

"I meant no offence," Faramir explained himself, knowing just how unpleasant an angry hobbit could be when properly inspired. "It is just that there has been a good deal of Orc activity in the lands near Bree. I should not want either the Queen or Eowyn to encounter any."

"We’ve heard nothing in the Shire," Sam pointed out, rather disturbed that there could be Orcs so close to home.

"Well the Orcs would not dare harm the Shire," Aragorn answered. "As it is – for now, we commit some forces to their removal but if they were to enter the Shire, they are perfectly aware that it would be an army that came after them in retaliation. The home of the Ring Bearer is not to be pillaged by such foul folk as this," Aragorn glanced at Frodo and offered the hobbit a little smile. "Not while I am King."

Legolas had not spoken for some time. As Aragorn swept his gaze across the faces of his friends, he came to rest upon the Elven prince when he noticed something in Legolas’ eyes that made him speak up. "Legolas, what is the matter?"

Legolas did not hesitate to answer, "I do not know but there is something and it is close."

His words immediately inspired the others to reach for their swords and they stared at the darkness of the trees surrounding them, more aware of the shadows than ever.

"Can you tell what it is?"

"No," Legolas shook his head in frustration. He knew that there was danger coming, he just could not tell in what form. It was still not close enough for him to say for certain.

"I sense it too," Gandalf said after a time, his staff clutched firmly in his hands as he too scanned the darkness for the danger that approached.

The Fellowship had risen to their feet and all brandished their weapons in anticipation of what was coming at them. They could hear nothing so far but Legolas appeared tense and in expectation that whatever it was, it would be here soon. It was the same mood that had overtaken them during their journey through Moria, prior to the attack by the Orcs and cave trolls.

"Where are they!" Faramir hissed, revealing his impatience. "I wish they would just come!"

"They will," Aragorn said firmly. "Ready yourself for when they do."

"They are upon us!" Legolas cried out, pulling out an arrow from his collection and arming his bow in readiness.

Red eyes flashed at them as soon as those words escaped him and they were followed by a low snarl that all of them recognised immediately. The peace of the campfire was shattered by the sudden emergence of large bodies of fur moving towards them at rapid speed, led by snapping jaws and ferociously sharp teeth. They exploded out of the woods, covered in dark fur, with yellowed eyes fixing quickly upon their intended prey, their savagery evidenced by their snarls and growl, converging into a tremendous roar that soon brought everything about them to chaos.

"Wargs!" Aragorn shouted as one of the wolves launched themselves at him. He reacted without thinking, thrusting his blade through its ribs, earning a powerful howl of pain as the weapon tore through the flesh of its back.

They swarmed through the camp, their numbers so many that it was hard to count, their growling draining the world of all other sound. Aragorn saw one about to attack Frodo and moved to intervene but he was soon beset by a duo of the heinous creatures who charged him. Thinking quickly, he dropped to his knees and grabbed a log from the fire and waved it about to give them pause. As they hissed in black fury for being held back by his flame, Aragorn saw that the former Ring Bearer was more than adept at fighting the foul creatures than he had given him credit. With the blade called Sting, Aragorn saw Frodo hack away at the beast attempting to harm him and drive it back. In its attempt to evade the blade, the Warg stepped into the fire and uttered a roar of pain before fleeing to douse its wound. Beside Frodo was Sam, fighting with just as much determination to protect himself as well as his master, between the two of them, the hobbits were putting up a strong defense.

Aragorn saw a flurry of moment in the corner of his eye and turned just as a Warg jumped upon him. Aragorn had no room to move and it felled him heavily on the ground. Sliding his blade between him and the creature’s snapping jaws, he could fell its fetid breath as its claws scratched at his skin and its teeth trying to take a bite out of him. The two that had been held at bay were not given leave to advance since the flame that Aragorn had used against them had fallen to the ground. Suddenly, an arrow flew threw the air and struck one of the wolves in the neck. The force of it escaped the beast’s side and it dropped in its tracks.

"Help Aragorn!" Aragorn heard Legolas scream before turning his attention to the Warg about to attack. Legolas swiftly retrieved another arrow from his pack and let it fly, it too made its mark for Legolas seldom missed and the creature was close.

The second beast was almost upon him when Aragorn threw the Warg that he was wrestling over his head, slamming it into the other’s abdomen and sending them both tumbling. He rolled onto his knees and pulled the dagger concealed within his boot, flinging it with a marksman’s aim at one. It struck the raging wolf in its breast and the Warg screamed in pain before collapsing on the dirt, its black blood oozing across the ground. Now that the one was dead, Aragorn rushed forward to deal with the first. The Warg glared at him with sinister eyes, its teeth dripping with saliva as it circled him, waiting to pounce. Aragorn remembered how fierce these creatures had been during the battle of Pelennor when the Orcs had used them like horses.

The Warg ran forward and leapt into the air, Aragorn watched its movements before swinging Anduril in a wide arc. The blade forged from the shard of Narsil, the sword of Elendill which was used to cut the One Ring from Sauron’s hand sliced through the less formidable flesh of the Warg, tearing open its insides in one final and gruesome blow. The wolf had barely enough time to utter a cry of pain before it dropped in mid air, its body making a heavy thud upon hitting the earth. Aragorn turned around to see the progress of his friends and saw that Pippin had somehow managed to mount one of the Wargs as if he were riding a pony. The small hobbit remained steadfastly attached upon the wolf’s back, his hand clutching the beast’s pelt as he steadied his blade for attack. With one powerful movement, more than Aragorn would have thought capable by a halfling, Pippin drove the blade into the creature’s neck and halted its struggles in one blood-curdling howl of agony.

Faramir was battling just as vigorously, showing that he was like his brother in skill and honor. Around him, the Wargs gathered in their death, so many of them that it appeared that there was a sea of fur growing on the ground instead of grass. Gandalf had also produced his sword and was making short work of the creatures that were foolish enough to attack him. Although the wizard had great powers that could probably make short work of all these foul beasts, Aragorn knew that it was Gandalf’s desire to not rely so much on his abilities and to use his more conventional skills. A wizard's powers were not to be used lightly and if he was able to manage his own defense without it, Gandalf would certainly attempt it.

Merry and Gimli fought side by side, proving that their lesser size did not mean they could not make the Wargs regret this attack as the others had. With his mighty axe, Gimli swept aside the beasts as if they were petulant children and the thunderous blows ensured none of the foul creatures would be able to rise. They lay in heaps across the campsite, their bones broken from the onslaught of the dwarf’s axe. Merry’s skill, taught to him by Boromir, allowed him to contribute just as significantly as they cut down the Wargs that would have no doubt killed them all.

When it was all said and done, the campsite appeared like an uncovered mass grave of Wargs. Their black blood ran through the dirt and would soon attract the attention of carrion feeders who would feast upon their lifeless bodies. Aragorn immediately ordered their departure, wishing to be away in case any other foul creature chose to make its appearance. They returned to the shore where their boats were waiting, deciding it would be safer if they made camp near a speedy means of escape. For the most part, they had come away from the melee with little injuries. Faramir had suffered a bite but it had been made through the braces on his arm and despite the skin being broken, it was not a serious wound. The hobbits and Gimli had acquired some minor scratches, all of which Aragorn was able to tend to with his skills as a healer.

"We rid ourselves of all the Wargs," Aragorn stated as they gathered around the fire, albeit, a little more sedately than before the attack attempting to get some rest for the traveling in the morrow. "I know we did."

"I thought so too," Legolas shook his head. "At Pelennor, I was certain we saw the end of them." The archer was cleaning the arrows he had managed to retrieve from the dead creatures, appearing none to happy about the grisly task.

"There seems to be a greater frequency of dark things emerging in recent months," Aragorn replied. "First the appearance of rogue Uruk Hai and Orc tribes, now we have Wargs whom we were certain were done with Middle Earth."

"Its like they’re all emerging out of the darkness," Faramir remarked, attempting to see under the swathing of bandage around his arm and frowning when Merry smacked his hand for making the attempt.

"They’re hearing the call of their Master," Frodo mused softly. "Whatever this evil that Arwen is facing, it’s drawing them to him, just like Sauron."

All eyes turn to him and the fact soured in their stomachs. They had seen such activity in Mordor prior to the Quest of the One Ring. Orcs began to grow in numbers, goblins and trolls had emerged in new ferocity to attack races, they would never have dared before. The destruction of the One Ring had chased them into the shadows but now it appeared as if some new malignancy was bringing them into the world of Middle Earth again.

"Mordor is silent," Aragorn said firmly. "Since Sauron’s defeat, we have maintained close control of it."

"There are evils far older than Sauron, Aragorn," Gandalf replied. "The threat of Melkor upon your child’s existence should make you aware of that."

Aragorn stiffened, not liking to be reminded of that. It was hard enough trying to remain focussed on finding Arwen safely, to think nothing of the child inside her belly whose fate hung balanced upon the success of its mother’s ability to save its soul. "I know that all too well Gandalf," he said softly.

"I did not mean to worry you any more than you already are, Aragorn," Gandalf replied gently, seeing the pain in his eyes. "I just want to say that what we face is formidable and we must be on guard."

"We are on our guard," Pippin retorted. "We fought those things off."

"Yes, you did," Gandalf nodded. "But did you not find it odd that they came after us specifically?"

Aragorn’s gaze snapped towards the wizard. "What do you mean?"

Gandalf drew a deep breath and released it by way of his curved pipe. "The Enemy knows what we are up to. He knows that we are coming and is attempting to stop us any way he can. The Wargs are only the beginning, there will be more soon enough."

Part Four :
Awakenings

She woke up and thought for an instant that she was still wandering the plains of some beautiful dream.

Music that was composed from the depths of the soul teased her ears with their symphony and she was like a leaf drifting upon the breeze, moving to its currents, a slave, though happily, to its will. Arwen opened her eyes and realised why it was she felt so at peace. The place around her allowed for nothing else and its beauty unlocked her heart in the way nothing had since she had left her beloved Estel and embarked upon this important quest. In her lungs, she discovered upon her first breath awake, was the scent of the Wood, heady and sweet. It reminded her of childhood, of running through glens covered with mallos, of becoming lost in a sea of the golden colored flowers. She used to believe that the sun had bled onto the earth whenever she saw them. Yet as she sat up in her comfortable bed, she knew that she was not in a dream but a place that might have been carved out of one.

Lothlorien.

They had arrived in the realm of Galadriel in the small hours of the night, exhausted and weary of their journey from Minas Tirith. Eowyn had been taken away almost as soon as they had arrived, the Shield Maiden of Rohan protesting vehemently that she did not need aid even though the poison of the spiders she had battled and killed was almost certainly in her veins from her wound. In the end, Arwen convinced her to go to the House of Healing, to rest and be well so that they may begin again their journey towards Lindon. Galadriel was still at Minas Tirith but the Lord of Lothlorien and Arwen's grand sire, Celeborn was present.

She woke up to find him seated next to her bed, watching her as if he had done so for a long while. While Galadriel was more concerned over matters beyond Lothlorien, Celeborn’s interest were mostly focused inward, upon the realm he governed and those who were a part of it. She was certain that he knew each one of the elves inhabiting the wood as more than just their Lord but as their friend. When she was a child visiting, she was always a little in awe of her grandmother but Celeborn had always seemed more approachable and she recalled going on many trips with him through the wood as he taught her all he knew. She loved him almost as much as she did Estel and her father.

"Have you been there all night?" She asked reproachfully when she noticed.

"No," he smiled warmly, pleased to see that she was well. He had watched her for some hours now, wondering where that delightful child that had spend so many summers with him had disappeared. Even though she had grown into the fairest elf maiden in Middle Earth, Celeborn would always see her as that little girl who delighted him so. "Merely a few hours."

"You did not come to the celebration," Arwen accused with a hint of disappointment.

"I did not wish to," Celeborn volunteered and Arwen saw a flicker of something in his eyes.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked anxiously as she started to rise from her bed.

"You are able to answer that better than I," he replied staring at her.

Arwen looked away, realizing that he knew the reason she was here. "You know then?"

"That there is an Enemy with designs on your child, my great grandson? Yes, I know," Celeborn answered and there was bitterness in his voice as well as anger.

"I have to stop it," she swallowed thickly. "I cannot allow this to happen to my child or to the people of Middle Earth if he is born with Melkor’s spirit."

"I know," he reached for her and placed his hand on her cheek. "I did not come because I was angry with your grandmother. I thought you should have been told about the Enemy before this."

"She had no choice in the matter," Arwen argued. "I know she did not endanger my life on purpose."

"She did not," Celeborn softened a little, having no wish for Arwen to believe that of Galadriel. "I knew her purpose was to set you on your present course and as much as I know you will conquer what awaits you, you are my granddaughter and I fear for you. I would have preferred if you had embarked upon this with Aragorn at your side."

"But he could be endangered," Arwen pointed out. As much as she loved Celeborn for thinking so much about her, she wanted Aragorn to have no part of her quest, if his life could be lost as a result.

"So could you," Celeborn returned. "You have chosen a mortal life and that means you could die too. I would not have forced you into such a choice."

"Are you angry with Galadriel for setting me upon this quest?" She looked at him with dismay. She had no wish to be the rift that came between the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien.

"Not angry," he lied to her because he knew it would cause her distress if he told her the truth. "Disappointed."

"Please," she placed her hand on his shoulder. "I made my own choice. Do not be angry with her because of me."

"It is not just this one thing Arwen," Celeborn confessed, glad that she was here so that he could talk about it openly. Being the Lord of Lothlorien required that he keep much of his true feelings to himself. "Galadriel wishes to leave Lothlorien for the Undying Lands. I am not ready to depart."

"Yes," Arwen replied, nodding slowly. She knew all too well what he spoke of. Many of the elves were now speaking of leaving for the West, her father too. Because of her choice to live a mortal life with Estel, she would not be making that journey. While she regretted nothing in the choosing of this decision because she loved Estel, she could not help feeling a terrible sadness when she thought on the time she would the last elf on these shores. Even Legolas would go some day, though Arwen suspected it would not be until all the mortals he cherished so much were gone into the afterlife.

When her father had come to Minas Tirith, she suspected he had done so because he knew it might be the last time he would ever see her. For all her delirium about his being a grandfather, she knew he was already preparing to leave Rivendell permanently and would probably never see her son. When they had met each other in the palace, she could see the weariness in his eyes from the preparation and also the sadness beneath the joy he felt for her. She knew that if it were not so, he would merely have sent good tidings with her brothers Elladan and Elrohir. Yet he had come himself and Arwen knew it was not merely to share the celebration with her but it was also his way of saying goodbye.

It would be this way with Galadriel and Celeborn too. No matter how much she loathed to think of it, Arwen had come to the conclusion that it was inevitable.

"I enjoy this world," he gazed out the window at the beauty of Lothlorien and she could see real love glistening in his eyes for not just the wood but what lay beyond. "I enjoy travelling to Rivendell and Mirkwood, I would even like to see Minas Tirith one day but I am not ready for the Undying Lands. Not yet."

"You plan to remain if Galadriel leaves?" Arwen asked somewhat surprised. It was not unheard of, of course. When her mother had been hurt, Celebrian had sailed to the Undying Lands, waiting the day when her father would join her on the Western Shore.

"I think so," Celeborn nodded and then met her eyes. "I have not told her yet."

Arwen drew a deep breath and wondered how Galadriel would take that news. Arwen was unable to imagine the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien apart. They had always been two halves of the same entity. Yet, she knew that hearts could change and though she did not like to be aware of it, Celeborn was angry at his wife and with elves, such anger could last the duration of some men’s lifetimes. As much as the thought of him remaining in Middle Earth pleasured her, Arwen knew that it was a selfish desire and felt that she ought to say something to ensure that this course he chosen was for the right reasons and not merely out of anger.

"Are you certain of this grandfather?" She asked, using a more personal title. "I know that you are angered over Galadriel’s conduct in this but I do not blame her and you may take comfort that I believe what she has done is right. I love you dearly for your concern but if your anger is for my welfare, you need not trouble yourself."

"I am certain of much more than my anger," Celeborn smiled warmly, mindful of what she was attempting to do and loving her all the for it. "I have thought upon this deeply since her departure to the White City and I know that though separation will be hard, for we have been husband and wife for so long, I think it will in the end do us both good."

Arwen nodded somberly, realizing that she could not sway him from his decision and upon further thought, decided that she should not. It was his choice to make. She could not deny that she was happy that he would not disappear from her life as the others would soon do but she was also sad that Galadriel would travel to the Western Shore alone.

"How is Eowyn?" Arwen asked after a lengthy pause in an effort to put the subject behind them.

"She is well," Celeborn replied, having asked to be appraised regarding the Lady of Ithilien’s condition for he knew Arwen would want to know how she fared. "She is exceedingly stubborn. I thought Aragorn was difficult to treat, I daresay she is almost as adverse to the belief of her injury."

"Warriors often are," Arwen smiled, picturing in her mind’s eyes the consternation Eowyn would have probably caused amongst the elven physicians in the House of Healing. "She is a good friend and has already saved my life once on this quest."

"I do not doubt that," Celeborn responded. "She believes she is ready to travel."

"Is she?" Arwen raised a brow at that because Eowyn’s determination to be of aide to her overrode the Shield Maiden’s good sense at times.

"Her wound is healing and I do not believe we can keep her here. She has been treated and though the healers would prefer her to rest, I also think they would be happy to be rid of her and the aggravation."

Arwen chuckled and let out a heavy breath, "I shall speak to her myself and if she is as ready as she claims then I would impose upon you grandfather for some horses."

"You will be continuing your journey?" Celeborn asked, feeling a little disappointed that she could not stay for another night but understood the urgency of her mission and her desire to continue as soon as possible.

"Yes," she answered thinking already on the route they would take upon leaving Lothlorien. "I cannot afford to delay my progress to the north. If Eowyn is well enough to travel, we will make for Rivendell."

"You are going to climb the Misty Mountains?" He looked at her skeptically. "In your condition?"

"I think I should be able to manage. We elves have far better agility over the snow than the race of men. I should be able to traverse it in a day or so."

She noticed a frown on Celeborn’s face as she mentioned the mountains, which immediately gave her cause for concern. "You seemed worried," she remarked.

"We have heard news from the mountains," Celeborn confessed after a minute of hesitation of trying to decide whether or not his fears were unfounded and motivated by his desire for her to remain in the Wood or was there really something to fear in the Misty Mountains.

"What sort of news?" She stared at him.

"News that some of the travelers crossing the mountains are not always seen again," he admitted reluctantly.

"What has befallen them?" Arwen asked anxiously, not wishing to deter from her chosen course but not wishing to rush headlong into danger either. After what they had seen at Cadras Nar, it was obvious that there was still enough darkness in Middle Earth to warrant caution.

"We are not certain, those sent to find them never return either," Celeborn replied.

"But some have crossed safely?" She questioned, not wishing to be frightened off on so little information.

"Some have," Celeborn replied. "But do you really want to risk the danger?"

"I am already in danger," Arwen sighed. "And I grow more so the longer I am kept from completing my quest. I must at least try to cross the mountains before I abandon the idea."

Celeborn nodded, conceding that he would not be able to convince her otherwise. She was like her father, strong willed and determined. He had to trust that she would find a way.

"The Lord of Lothlorien is at your service Evenstar," he said finally. "Whatever you need, we will provide it if we are able."

"Thank you," Arwen embraced him warmly, grateful that he was here and would be for some time to come.

**********

Celeborn had been correct, Eowyn was eager to leave by the time Arwen finally found her. The Lady of Ithilien despised being fretted upon by healers, no matter how injured she was. From the time she had been a visitor to the House of Healing during the War of the Ring, she had abhorred being reminded that she had fallen in battle by having others fuss over her injuries. The only good thing that had ever come of her stay at one of these places was her meeting Faramir. However, this occasion was not going to engender any pivotal encounters such at that. What fired her ire more was that she had heard the tales of Lothlorien and had long yearned to walk through its enchanted realm. It did not seem fair that she was trapped in a bed when she could be seeing it for herself.

"Are you often so disagreeable?" Haldir asked after Eowyn had sent one of the maids trying to tend her wounds after her clothes instead.

Eowyn had never met Haldir, though she knew of him from her conversations with Arwen and Legolas. Like all the elves of Lothlorien, his hair was fair gold and it hung about his shoulders either loose or in a braid. His features were not as fine as Legolas and to her he seemed older, though it was difficult to say for certain with elves. His tone however was patronizing and that immediately brought out the worst in Eowyn.

"Only when I am forced to stay in bed over injuries that are inconsequential to me," she retorted, waiting impatiently for her clothes to arrive. At the present, she was clad in a simple white shift and felt all the more self-conscious for it.

"You are still injured. You should rest," he pointed out, standing by the door with his arms folded. His gaze was one of reproach, like she was a child and upon further thought Eowyn supposed she was in comparison to him but she did not like being reminded of it.

"I was injured," she corrected him, "but I am well now and I need no other treatment. What healing I endure after Lothlorien will take place on route, I do not need to be in a bed for that."

"You are travelling with the Evenstar," Haldir stated firmly. "She requires protection from what awaits her at the end of her quest. You only endanger her by your stubbornness."

Eowyn bristled at the accusation. She did not like this elf nor the assumption he made that she would place her own needs above that of Arwen’s. "If I were not a lady Sir, I would knock you off your feet for that insult."

Haldir straightened up in outrage at her statement, "I merely state the obvious," he said haughtily. "If anything befalls the Evenstar in this quest, or should she fall to the machinations of the Enemy then we will all suffer. Does that not warrant you behaving sensibly?"

"I am behaving sensibly," she retorted. "This thing that will happen to the babe inside Arwen will take place at the next full moon. If you do not mind, I would rather that we fulfil our task well before that. I would leave nothing to chance when it comes to Arwen or her baby’s safety. I am injured yes, but the one to best judge how I will be capable of tolerating those wounds is me, not you."

"This will not do," Haldir looked at her coldly. "The Evenstar should have a proper escort, not a…" he faltered when he saw that he was about to say something unforgivable.

"A woman?" She strode towards him, full of anger and more than prepared to express it.

"Haldir," Arwen’s voice filled the room and they both turned to see Arwen entering the room with Eowyn’s travelling clothes in her arm. "I think that will be all."

"I was…."

"I am well aware of what you were doing," Arwen replied with such glacial hardness to her voice, that it was easy to believe then that she was a queen. "I thank you for your concern and bid you to leave us, the Lady Eowyn needs to be dressed as we will soon be leaving."

Haldir appeared as if he wanted to respond but since much of his conversation with Eowyn had been heard by Arwen, there was little he could but to withdraw. It was just as well for Arwen did not think that Eowyn would have been able to restrain her displeasure much longer.

When he was gone, Arwen turned to Eowyn and sighed, "I suppose that you are well enough to travel then."

Eowyn let out a slight laugh and responded, "yes, I do think I am."

"You must forgive Haldir," Arwen replied after Eowyn had liberated the elf of her clothes and readied herself to leave. "He is very proud and he does take his duty to protect the Lady and her kinsman very seriously."

"You forgot arrogant," Eowyn muttered as she pulled on her breeches. "I see now why Legolas describes him as an acquaintance."

"Legolas was always too polite to draw an accurate description." Arwen smiled before noting the injury on Eowyn’s shoulder as she pulled off the shift. "Are you certain that you are fit to continue?"

"I am fine," Eowyn assured her. "I am not about to single handedly fight Sauron or an army of Uruk Hai but I am certainly fit to ride. I can heal on the way."

"I will trust you on that," Arwen stared at her critically. "With everything else that is happening to me of late, the last thing I would require is for you to drop dead from exhaustion or some other malaise because of your stubbornness to aid me in this quest."

"If it soothes you somewhat, I will not drop dead, I will faint gracefully from exhaustion."

"Thank you," Arwen retorted giving her a look of sarcasm as Eowyn grinned. "That does me a world of good."

************

Celeborn had been true to his word and had furnished Arwen and Eowyn with horses and supplies for their journey northward. At their farewell, Haldir had been present, his face a mask of dislike as he saw Eowyn riding at Arwen’s side. For most part, Eowyn handled his hostility and lack of confidence in her abilities well enough but Arwen could see that she was still rather incensed. Arwen however, was sad to say goodbye to Celeborn for she had a premonition that the next time they came upon each other, things would have changed greatly. She did not know how she knew this with such certainty, but as she cast him a final look as he waved her goodbye, Arwen knew that it would be the last time she viewed him as Lord of Lothlorien.

They traveled away from Lothlorien towards the Misty Mountains, a course Eowyn was still unhappy to take because of Arwen’s condition. She knew the journey would be longer but a day or two down the range of the mountains would find them an easier way to reach their destination. However, Arwen would have none of it. She was determined to cross and since Moria was no longer an option, Eowyn had little choice but to obey. From all accounts the bridge at Khazadum had been destroyed and while Gimli and the dwarves had vanquished much of the Orcs that had overrun Moria, it was not to say that they were all gone.

From Lothlorien, the journey to the Misty Mountains required almost two days of constant travel. Fortunately for them, their travel was without incident and there was ample opportunity to take in the magnificent range of mountains as they neared it. The Misty Mountains bordered the valleys where Rivendell was located and for many ages had kept the Hobbits in the Shire beyond the reach of Mordor and other elements of darkness. As they approached it, there was none of the inhospitable weather that had beleaguered the Fellowship when they had tried to reach Mordor. The snow covered peaks appeared still and while Arwen had no desire to attempt the crossing over those points in the mountain, she could not help being moved by its resplendent beauty.

In the meantime, Eowyn continued to be mindful of her injuries and though it had been difficult for her to ride during the first hours of their departure from Lothlorien, the maid of Rohan bore it nonetheless. Arwen was aware of her attempts to hide her weariness and often feigned needing rest herself when she saw Eowyn was in need of it, just so that he companion would agree to pause. Arwen loved her for this effort and knew that if she succeeded in her quest, it would owe a great deal to Eowyn’s conduct in this. Arwen wondered why not more women chose to take up arms as Eowyn had. The elves were not so against their females bearing weapons as immortality brought with it certain wisdom. However, it was not the same with the race of men. They preferred their women weak, gentle and defenseless. More should follow Eowyn’s example for it was perfectly obvious to Arwen that they were more than equal to the task if Eowyn was any basis for comparison.

It was almost nightfall when they finally reached the pass they would have to traverse to cross the mountain and both women were exhausted from being in a saddle for almost the entire day. Neither disagreed with one another when the suggestion was brought forth of making camp that night. Celeborn had included in their stores, some lembas and they ate around the warm fire, wondering how far they would have to continue tomorrow in order to reach the pass that would take them through the mountains. Little was said of the quest, though both of them were thinking constantly upon it.

Arwen’s thoughts were mostly preoccupied with Aragorn and how he would have taken the news of her departure. No doubt, Galadriel would have explained things once he discovered her gone but Arwen was certain that he would not understand. It did not help that she missed him terribly and each day apart made her long for her king. It was foolishness, this pining for him. It was not as if they had never been apart before. Prior to their marriage, he was always travelling from place to place and his time with her only came in between his adventures. She wished she could have been like any new mother with the freedom to enjoy the arrival of her babe but she could not. All she could feel was this terrible weight pressing down on her soul that demanded her completion of her quest or it would cost her everything she held dear. It was not fair.

Fortunately, Arwen knew in her lengthy existence that life was seldom fair in anything.

Eowyn’s worries were a great deal different to Arwen’s. What Faramir felt about her leaving, Eowyn would find out when she saw him face to face again. Eowyn was too practical to torture herself with how her beloved might behave in this situation. She had larger concerns on her mind, concerns that she dared not voice to the Queen of Gondor for fear of how she would react to them. Eowyn’s fears were centered upon the time they were allowed to reach the Blue Mountains in order to prevent Arwen’s unborn child from being affected by Melkor’s essence.

Galadriel had told them that they had until the next full moon to reach the Enemy. It had been that when they departed Minas Tirith and it had taken them four days to travel to Lothlorien. It would take another four days to reach Rivendell after they breached the mountain. If they had been on foot, the journey would take six days. As Eowyn calculated the days, she knew that they could not afford delay. Part of the reason she was so adamant about leaving Lothlorien was because she knew that they could not waste one second if they aimed to reach the Enemy before it was too late. After crossing the mountains, they would need to pass Rivendell, then Shire before reaching the place known as the Grey Havens. From there, they would take the river into the heart of the Blue Mountains that would take them to sea.

After that, Eowyn had little idea what would transpire next or how long it would take to accomplish it. Galadriel’s instructions had been vague at best and what Eowyn feared the most was if they had long to travel once they arrived at the Blue Mountains, they may not be able to reach the enemy before the full moon. That thought alone sent fear into her heart not merely for the babe and for all of Middle Earth should the child be born with Melkor’s spirit, but what Arwen herself would do to keep a second darkness from befalling the land. The queen of Gondor was perhaps one of the strongest women she knew in spirit and a fierce desire to protect those she loved might force her to act irrationally.

Was it possible that might mean ending her life?

And should Eowyn stop her?

That was a possibility the Lady of Ithilien did not want to consider even for a second because it filled her heart with such dread that Eowyn could hardly breathe. Yet she was certain even if Arwen never said it to her directly, it was a course the queen might take if the situation gave her no alternative. Eowyn knew that Arwen might be strong enough to make such a sacrifice but what Eowyn did not know was whether or not she could stand by and let her friend do this terrible deed.

The answer to that question was something she never wanted to learn.

**********

The raging wind in her ears and the sudden chill on her skin awoke Arwen from her slumber at their campsite at the foot of the Misty Mountains. The night before had shown them a canopy of stars ahead, a sure indicator that the day following it would be clear and good for travel. Yet as she opened her eyes and stared briefly at the sky, she saw only clouds of gray, allowing no sunshine to pass its thick cloak. The wind was whistling in her ears and she saw the trees swaying above head, bending to its will with each breath of the gale. Arwen sat up and saw Eowyn already awake, packing their things away in order to begin their travel or at the very least, seek shelter away form the tempest.

Arwen looked up at the top of the mountain and saw the higher reaches of it covered in sheets of snow. The wind was gently chipping away at its volume and she understood in an instant why Eowyn was so determined to get moving. If this storm were to grow any worse, it might conceivably precipitated an avalanche that would bury the passage way in snow and force them to take a different route. However, as she rose to her feet in order to help Eowyn with their rapid departure, Arwen sensed something ominous. It was the same feeling she had experienced in Cadras Nar, although there the danger had been more overt and did not require elven senses to detect.

"Eowyn," Arwen called out as she gathered her bedding and stumbled towards the Lady of Ithilien.

"We need to go," Eowyn said as soon as she saw Arwen approaching her. "That snow is going to come down soon. We need to pass or else we shall have to go around the mountain."

"There is something not right about all this," Arwen replied as she fell into Eowyn’s purposeful stride towards the horses.

"What do you mean?" Eowyn squinted at Arwen as she tried speaking over the wind.

"I do not believe this is natural," Arwen explained as they reached the horses that were growing agitated at the worsening weather.

"It is a storm," Eowyn retorted not understanding, "it is unfortunate but storms are a part of life. They happen."

"Not this one," Arwen interjected. "Trust my word sister, there is something amiss."

Arwen did not use the word ‘sister’ often but when she did, it was because she was earnest in her desire to convince Eowyn of some truth the latter could not see.

"I believe you Arwen," Eowyn replied honestly. "But what is to be done? We must cross that breach."

She was right. If the forces of nature did not create this storm, it still did not alter the fact that they had to cross through the pass between the mountain. Arwen argued no more with Eowyn and they both quickly mounted their horses and rode towards the pass, ignoring the growing intensity of the wind and the falling of snow that was turning the clarity of their path into a vague, indistinct fog. The nearer they drew to the pass, the more Arwen became disturbed by what she was sensing. Something terrible loomed in the passageway, something that was going to harm them. She wanted to turn back but Eowyn was right, they needed to make the crossing.

Inside the small canyon that had been carved through the mountain by years of erosion by water or some other force, Arwen swallowed thickly as they moved deeper and deeper into its confines. The comforting sight of dirt and soil disappeared for the thick cover of snow and the horses grew just as anxious as she. Eowyn lead the way, aware that this leg of their journey was worrying Arwen and she went ahead to show the queen that there was nothing to fear, though she did not exactly discount Arwen’s belief of danger.

They were less than a quarter of the way through when suddenly, she heard Arwen cry out behind her. Eowyn brought her mount to an immediate halt and looked over her shoulder. The elf’s features were contorted in fear and sent tendrils of alarm through the warrior maiden. "What is it?"

"Something is here," Arwen said looking about her, trying to find something that could convince Eowyn as well as herself that they should leave here while they still could.

"Where?" Eowyn asked automatically, her hand reaching for her sword.

"I don’t know," Arwen cried out in frustration. "But I can feel it."

Eowyn would have liked something more tangible then that and she swept her gaze across the canyon way to find something that would give truth to Arwen’s premonitions. There was nothing at first, not until she looked closely and saw that the canyon was littered with rocks and boulders of varying sizes. This in itself was nothing out of the ordinary, since rocks and boulders were to be expected when one was travelling through a mountain. But upon closer observation, there were jagged and sharp, not at all smoothed from years of erosion. The look of them made her dismount the horse, uncertain whether her need to investigate was inspired by Arwen’s warning or because she herself was starting to see something odd.

"What have you found?" Arwen asked, still gripped with this feeling of foreboding.

"These rocks," Eowyn looked ahead and then behind her on the path they had taken to this very spot. "Why are they only here?"

Arwen realised that Eowyn was right, behind them the path was clear. There were rocks but these were formations that had been there for quite some time and had blended in with the landscape through the ages. However the collection that Eowyn viewed with such anxiousness bore no such unity with the terrain, they seemed out of place and they were broken as if dwarves had chosen to split them apart with their heavy axes. She looked further into the canyon and saw that in the distant end of the passage, the path once again cleared. The collection of rocks and boulders seemed specific only to their immediate location.

She shivered and it was not because the wind was heavy and blowing at her skin with force or because of the snow flakes that had covered the terrain after being dislodged from their perch above that she pulled her cloak nearer to her body. She stared up at the uneven edge of the mountain above their heads and could only see the raging blizzard of snow and wind. Yet every sense that she possessed told her that this was not right, that the sudden emergence of this storm was by the design of something other nature.

"Eowyn, I think we should take another route."

Eowyn stared at her sharply. "Arwen that will place undue burden on our journey, it could mean a delay of a day perhaps more."

"I know," she replied anxiously, "but I do not make this request lightly. We should go now."

The fear Eowyn saw in Arwen’s eyes was real and though she did not wish to waste time by finding another way around the mountain, there was something about this whole situation that was cause for disquiet. After a moment, she decided that if Arwen thought that there was peril lying in the route before them, then they should leave. She trusted her friend’s instincts. She stepped away from the rocks when her foot struck something underfoot. It did not make the sound of rock but rather something much harder. Arwen had heard it too for her brow had knotted in confusion as to what that could be. Eowyn lowered herself to the ground and saw the irregular shape her foot had struck, concealed by a thin layer of snow.

She had only to brush it aside when she found herself staring at a skull. Judging by the size of it, probably a dwarf’s. She staggered back in shock and slipped on the ice, landing heavily on her rear.

"Eowyn!" Arwen called out, dismounting her animal immediately and running to the shield maiden’s side.

"What is it?"

Eowyn would have answered except that when she looked at where she had landed, she noticed another pile of bones, covered by the sand. She let out a short cry of shock as she scrambled away.

"I think you are correct," Eowyn said in a hasty breath as she hurried to meet Arwen. "I think we should leave now."

"There are bones everywhere," Arwen said as she stared at the snow she had just cleared away underfoot. At first she thought she was standing on gravel but that was not all. The canyon was a veritable tomb. Suddenly, she remembered what had Celeborn had said about travelers who had vanished trying to cross the Misty Mountains. They could be standing on the edge of why that was. "Something in there is killing travelers, I think we should leave while we still can."

"I will never question you again," Eowyn declared as both women hurried to their horses and mounted.

They started riding out of the canyon, not even looking back and grateful that they had come to their senses before it was too late. Neither knew what form of creature had caused so many to die in that narrow expanse but Arwen was grateful that they would not be finding out first hand. They galloped hard through the pass, paying no heed to the gale that was lashing at them or the unearthly howl that ripped through their ears when they departed. It could have been the wind by somehow Arwen was not so certain of that. As they reached the mouth of the passage and saw the land beyond the Misty Mountains, Arwen felt a great flood of relief wash over her that for the moment at least the danger had passed.

The thought had no sooner crossed her mind when suddenly; something tore her from the saddle of her horse. She let out a small cry of shock but it was eclipsed by Eowyn’s own shout of outrage as she endured the same occurrence. There was little time to think as Arwen saw the ground come up to swallow her. All she could do to protect her child was to curl her body into a ball and hope that would be enough to lessen the impact of her landing. She hit the ground hard and though she was certain that her positioning had saved the slumbering babe in her womb, she was helpless to prevent the black fog that descended upon her moments later where she knew nothing else.

**************

"Lady," she heard Eowyn’s insistent voice prodding her into consciousness. "Lady!"

There was a moment of confusion when Arwen opened her eyes and felt the dirt scrapping against her cheek, when she wondered where she was. The voice calling her was familiar and only when her senses returned to her, did she realize that it was Eowyn calling her. Starlight flooded her eyes, the glare of awakening settling the blur before her into more familiar shapes. She saw night sky filtering through the canopy of trees above her and heard voices that upon meeting her recognition brought Arwen abruptly back to her senses. Arwen started to sit up but was hampered by the fact that her hands were tied. She would have descended into panic at the realization of this if not for the fact that it would avail her nothing.

Arwen did not know where they were but it was clear that they were deep within the woods. She had no sense of time and that frightened her more, not knowing how long she had been unconscious. She could smell smoke close by and upon investigation, saw that it came from the fire of the camp they were in. Sitting above the flames was a cooking pot; its contents simmering with heat and a stench that turned her delicate stomach. There were at least a dozen of them moving about the campsite, some were guarding her and Eowyn, the rest were more interested in picking clean the contents of their saddle bags.

"Are you hurt?" She heard Eowyn whisper quietly.

"No," Arwen shook her head as she gazed upon the Lady of Ithilien, who was seated before her cross-legged, her arms bound behind her. A streak of blood ran down Eowyn’s face, the cause being the angry gash slashed across here forehead. "Are you?"

"It is appears worse than it is," Eowyn replied dismissively because they had larger concerns at the moment.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Arwen asked as she attempted to shake the disorientation out of her head.

"A few hours," Eowyn answered, watching their jailers cautiously. Their lives hung on a knife’s edge at this moment and lest she found a way to free them both; neither would survive the night. "I feared that you were injured far worse than appeared."

"My strength is not what it used to be," Arwen explained breathless, her eyes following the proceedings in the campsite with as much caution as Eowyn. "Carrying a babe is tiring work but I am well enough."

"Good," Eowyn spoke quietly. "That is something at least."

One of their captors, noticing that Arwen was awake started towards them, his feet crushing the dead leaves beneath him as he barked the Black Speech of the Orcs to his brothers. Arwen felt her blood run cold as she saw the foul creature advance upon her, his terrible eyes full of purpose. She had seen Orcs in her time but in this situation, Arwen could not hide her disgust, especially when there would be no help for either herself or Eowyn from this ordeal. The Orcs fed on man flesh and what they did to women was too unspeakable to think of. The idea of what could befall them both, made Arwen’s heart pound even louder.

"They will ask your name, do not tell them." Eowyn instructed quickly before her words entered the hearing of the enemy.

The Orc paused before Arwen and hissed at her, its jagged teeth covered in filth borne like fangs. Arwen raised her chin in defiance of his attempt to scare her, refusing to allow this creature any more power over her then it already had. She wondered why they were not already dead. Orcs did not waste time with hostages. These were undoubtedly a renegade band left over from the War of the Ring and such Orcs usually waylaid helpless innocents for food or supplies. Arwen could not understand why she and Eowyn had been kept alive and being held prisoner. It was more expedient if they were to be killed for the Orcs would not have to worry about any attempt to escape or resistance to their will.

"Evenstar," he spoke the word and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end at its sinister delivery. "Which of you is the Evenstar?"

The question explained a great deal. These creatures were in search of her but one noble woman appeared more or less like another to them, they could not tell which of the prisoners was the one they sought. These Orcs were in the service of the Enemy that is why she and Eowyn were still alive. They dared not kill either one of them because they feared incurring their master’s wrath if they were wrong about the choice. As long as they did not know that she was the Evenstar and the object of their search, Eowyn’s life was safe.

"You can find that out yourself," Arwen returned sharply.

The Orc bellowed in rage at being refused and raised his hand to strike, when another of his party barked at him to stop. His hand paused in mid air and he snarled at her again in rage before turning away and returning to the horses. The two Orcs standing close by watched them closely.

"They’re preparing to move out," Eowyn explained.

"What happened?" She asked.

"They ambushed us as we attempted to leave the passage. I believe the storm allowed them to emerge into the day briefly in order to captures us. They tied a rope across the mouth of the pass and we rode straight into it. When I awoke, we were here. I am uncertain but they may have kept us in their lair until the night came so that they may venture out in preparation to depart."

"For where?" Arwen asked horrified by the notion of being taken anywhere by the foul creatures.

"Probably to the Enemy," Eowyn guessed. "They were most unhappy with me for not telling them my name, I think they hoped to feast upon one while travelling with the other."

Arwen’s stomach hollowed at the thought, aware that Orcs were infamous for being man-eaters. "Do you think they were responsible for the bodies we found?" Arwen inquired, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"No," Eowyn replied quietly, mindful that nothing she said was being overheard. "I don’t think so. The bones I saw did appear as such. Whatever happened to them was something else entirely. These Orcs have purpose in seeking us out. I believe they are sent here by the Enemy in order to bring you to them. If he has a palantir, he must know that you are no longer at Minas Tirith and moved to find you before you slipped out of his reach. If we allow them to take charge of us, it will take much longer to reach the Enemy because Orcs do not ride. We would be making the journey on foot."

"Then we must escape," Arwen declared without hesitation. "Somehow, we must find a way."

"I agree but that is easier said then done," Eowyn retorted even though she was slowly attempting to free herself of the ropes tied behind her back. It was not hard to do because the fingers of Orcs were far from nimble and their ability to tie ropes even less so. With time, she would not doubt be able to untangle the unruly cluster of knots that kept her bound. However, it remained to be seen whether or not they would have the time to spare. The Orcs before them were sharing a meal, no doubt the precursor to beginning their journey to the Enemy. Eowyn would prefer it if freedom came to herself and Arwen before that.

Or before the Orcs became hungry and threw caution to the winds by choosing one of them as a meal. 

*********

The Ranger watched the proceedings through the trees as one of the two women made a furtive attempt to free herself while under the watchful gaze of the Orcs who had captured them. The warrior maiden was undoubtedly trying to loosen the ropes around her because the Ranger could read the subtle movements made by her body as she made the attempt. The Orcs were too unschooled in interpreting the body language of men to know what was transpiring before them but then there was little reason to fear the warrior woman’s freedom from her bonds. Why should they? There were many of them and one of her. Even if she should free herself, she was unarmed and her companion was still tied. It would be an exercise in futility that would no doubt get one or both of them killed.

The Ranger considered deeply what was to be done. The Orcs were preparing to leave with their captives, a happenstance that could not be good under any circumstances. The Ranger was somewhat confused by this action for Orcs were not known to take captives and since the fall of Isengard and Mordor alike, they served no master and were renegades hiding from the King’s forces. Whatever the reason for their unusual behavior, the Ranger had little choice but to act. If not for a chance discovery while travelling towards the lands beyond the Misty Mountains, the Ranger would have continued the journey unaware of the peril faced by the two women.

There were about a dozen Orcs, not a great many but certainly enough to give one who was preparing a rescue pause for a moment. Orcs were not to be taken lightly and while the warrior woman might be useful in the battle if it came to that, the other was still bound. No, the Ranger decided quickly, facing the Orcs and vanquishing them was out of the question, the best that could be hoped for was the safe retrieval of both followed by an extremely hasty flight away from the Orcs. Hopefully with all their skins intact.

The Ranger took a moment to grumble at the inconvenience of the situation. True, the women had to be helped but the Ranger had no time for this for another purpose was waiting for the Ranger’s attention. That purpose was by no means as urgent as the quandary in which the noblewomen found themselves, but it was no less important. Still, the Ranger was not the kind to ignore the distress of others, particularly when it involved Orcs. After dealing with the vile creatures for so many years, the Ranger knew exactly what fate awaited the two women if something was not done.

Death would actually be the more pleasant of the possibilities.

Taking a deep breath, the Ranger crept across the soft ground of the wood, careful not to make a sound that would alert the Orcs. The Ranger’s horse awaited not far away from the campsite and the rescue plan such as it was, required the animal’s participation. As the dark figure moved across the uneven trail through the trees, the Ranger named Melia removed the crossbow slung across her back. She loaded the weapon silently and reached the black mare waiting patiently for its mistress to return. The animal, acquired in Rohan for nowhere else were there horses finer, was accustomed to remaining silent for the purpose of its rider.

Melia ran her hand across the animal’s flank and whispered her gratitude for its silence into its ears before climbing into the saddle.

"Come along Lomelindi," Melia said quietly as she faced the Orc fire in the near distance, "we have Orc to hunt."

************

Eowyn was still as the night as her fingers worked deftly on the final knot. She had closed her eyes in concentration, focussing singularly on the purpose of freeing her hands. Arwen watched her surreptitiously, appearing anxious for the benefit of their captors and focussing their attention on her by asking questions that they were ignoring. Eowyn knew that she could not keep that course indefinitely because Orcs were not known for their temperament. While they may not be prepared to kill either of them for fear of their master, there was nothing to prevent them from harming them and Arwen was threading a thin line with her efforts.

Suddenly the Orc leader who had questioned them stared at Eowyn, his eyes widening in malice when he realised that she was up to something. Eowyn felt her heart sink with disappointment as the knot came apart in her fingers but would do her little good because she had been discovered. He cried out to the rest of his comrades as he strode towards her and Eowyn was filled with dismay to realise that all her hard work was for nothing. If they did not kill her for what she had done, they were certainly going to tie her up again and she would be right where she began.

"Do nothing," Eowyn commanded Arwen, forgetting for an instant who was Queen and who was not. "Do not interfere with them on my account."

"Do not ask that of me!" Arwen cried out desperately as Eowyn stood up to face the Orc coming towards her while the two guarding her brandished their swords in preparation for the order to run her through.

"Escape," the Orc sneered malevolently, his voice a cold hiss, when he reached her, grabbing her arm to confirm his suspicions that she had been attempting to escape. "Escape is pointless."

He raised his sword, readying himself to deliver a blow that while might not necessarily kill her, would disable her and ruin any chance she had of making another escape attempt. Eowyn wanted to run but she knew the weapons of the other two would end any flight before she even had a chance to take a step. She braced herself for the pain and felt anguish rise from the depths of her soul that she had failed her queen so utterly. However, she would not go down easily and not before making him sorry he had ever taken them prisoner.

However, there was little chance for the Orc to do anything because at that moment, a horse burst through the bushes, carrying a rider on its back as it landed a hair’s breath beyond the reach of the fire. Once his eyes and that of his minions turned to face this new threat, Eowyn acted swiftly. The edge of the palm slammed into the creature’s face and forced him to drop his sword, which Eowyn liberated swiftly enough before she tore open his belly with one swipe of the weapon. When the others heard the death cry of their leader, they turned back to her. Eowyn slashed at one of them while the other was halted in his step by the bolt of a crossbow.

"GET TO THE HORSES!" The rider astride the mare shouted as she trained her deadly aim upon the others Orcs.

It was a command that need not be made twice. Eowyn hurried to Arwen who had jumped to her feet following the sudden turn of events and quickly freed the Queen of Gondor from her bonds. Then both made their way swiftly to the horses, with Arwen staying close behind Eowyn as the Shield Maiden of Rohan hacked her way through anyone or anything attempting to prevent their departure. The Orcs were starting to regroup from the chaos running through their camp when Arwen and Eowyn reached their mounts. Their mysterious rescuer had almost exhausted her supply of bolts for her weapon.

"Let’s go!" Eowyn shouted as she dug her heels into her horse and the animal bolted forward.

Arwen did the same and the horse broke into a powerful gallop across the campsite. An Orc attempted to pull her out of the saddle but Arwen kicked out, smashing the ball of her foot against its mouth and feeling its teeth crumble underneath. The creature staggered back and Arwen dug her heels into her horse with even more strength, expressing the urgency of a hasty departure to the animal with that one command. The horse thundered forward, following Eowyn and also their rescuer into the forest with the swiftness of the wind. An arrow flew past her and she ducked, feeling relief when she saw it embed itself into a tree.

Arwen did not know how long they rode through the night, knowing only that they were putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the enemy while they were doing it. For a time it seemed as if they would never stop and if it were not for the fact that Orcs could not tame horses, they might not have. However, after what seemed to be an eternity of time, Arwen heard Eowyn’s call to her that they were going to stop. Arwen was grateful for the break though she was pleased they had put a good distance between themselves and the Orcs who would have surely killed Eowyn or done great harm to her if not for the timely arrival of their rescuer.

They came to a halt in a brook that was fed of the water of the Anduin, several leagues away from the Orc band. As Arwen dismounted her horse and led the exhausted animal to the water in order to drink, she felt a great sense of relief at the knowledge that for immediate present, they were safe. Their new companion had made no introductions, seeming more concerned with the plight of her mount then anything else. As Arwen approached, she noted the person to be about the same size as Eowyn with a slightness of frame and figure that was distinctly female.

"We are in your debt, lady," Arwen said upon reaching her.

The Ranger stood up and lowered the hood her cloak. Long, black hair spilled forth, framing a face whose skin was lightly bronzed and whose brown eyes stared at her with as much curiosity as Arwen was showing herself. Arwen had heard of people in the lands beyond the Inland Sea with coloring such as this but she had never seen it for herself. Her features were decidedly exotic, Arwen decided and she was fair, much too fair to be roaming the lands of Middle Earth alone. Arwen wondered who her people were and was genuinely curious to learn from where she had come.

"I am a Ranger in these parts, it is my duty to ensure that travelers are safe from Orcs," she answered Arwen with a slight bow. "This is the first time that I have ever rescued two noblewomen travelling alone. Should you not have escorts?"

"We have business that requires us to travel alone," Eowyn replied cautiously, even though the stranger had saved their lives.

"Then I would suggest you exercise some prudence," the woman retorted. "What happened back there could have been worse if I had not stumbled upon you."

"We would have found our way out of that predicament," Eowyn said defensively.

"Yes," the woman responded with no small amount of sarcasm. "I saw how well you were finding your way. Another minute more and your problems would have been ended permanently."

Eowyn was about to retaliate when Arwen stilled her with a look. "We are thankful for your assistance. We need to cross the Misty Mountains swiftly. If we cannot go through the pass, might there be another route that we might take?"

"You are wise to avoid the path," the Ranger said earnestly. "Many have died attempting to cross there."

"You know what happened to them?" Eowyn asked.

"No," she confessed. "But I have seen the bodies and I did not remain long enough to find out what killed them."

"That is probably wise," Arwen could not disagree with that course. "Can you help us then?"

"I can lead you across the mountain but that depends on where you need to go," she looked at them in question, wondering where these two noblewomen were headed to risk such danger as travelling alone.

Arwen and Eowyn exchanged glances, wondering whether or not they could trust this stranger. Unfortunately, they needed to continue their journey quickly and they could not afford to waste time searching for an alternate route if this Ranger had that information already. Finally Arwen nodded in Eowyn’s direction, giving her permission to speak about their intentions.

"We are travelling to the Blue Mountains," Eowyn said finally, realising they had no choice but to trust this stranger. "We need to get there well before the next full moon."

The Ranger sucked in her breath and stared at them in astonishment. "That is going to take some doing. It is a long journey and very little time in which to make it. Might I ask what is the purpose of such a trek?"

"It is safer if you do not know," Arwen replied before Eowyn could. "Except that it is a matter of great importance."

"It must be," the Ranger sighed, "if the Evenstar is making it."

Arwen stared at her. "You know who I am?"

"Yes," the Ranger nodded. "I visited Minas Tirith after the crowning of the King. I have seen you before."

"Then you will help us?" Eowyn asked, her distrust of this woman lessening because it appeared that the Ranger was wise and her skill might be useful to them in their quest. Besides, a woman who was willing to rescue strangers from the hands of Orcs could not be entirely without honor and there was a part of Eowyn who liked the fact that this Ranger was also so capable of defending herself like any other warrior.

"I will help you," the Ranger smiled as she saw Eowyn’s outstretched hand and took it. "Lady of Rohan."

"Call me Eowyn," Eowyn returned the smile in kind.

"What shall we call you?" Arwen asked, gladdened that Eowyn had relented in her distrust of the woman and Arwen sensed no danger from her.

"Melia," the Ranger replied. "My name is Melia."

"Welcome to our quest Melia," Eowyn said wryly. "Let us hope you do not live to regret it."

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