Her eyes had turned blue. Arwen did not tell her until they reached Rivendell, but while Evangeline had wept for Radagast, her soft brown eyes had turned into fiery sapphires.

Their color transformed every time Evangeline felt the surge of sorrow and anger from the painful memory. For a long time, she had known that she would have to face the growing evil in the world. What she did not expect was for it to come after her so soon.

She lifted a sphere of water and concentrated with all her might, recalling her strongest emotions. Her eyes flashed while a surge of her energy froze the ball in midair. As she let it fall into the stream, her eyes resumed their natural color. Her element was undependable at times, varying in intensity with her emotions and strength. She needed a weapon that was reliable, such as her swords. She swung her blades around, moving through techniques she already knew. As she whipped around, her right blade struck steel.

Aragorn was holding out his sword. In his eyes, Evangeline expected to find sadness, but she found something different – understanding. He knew her pain. He had felt it before.

This is only one way he can help me, and he knows it. She drew back her sword. "Teach me."

Aragorn did not speak. He pulled back his sword, holding it with both hands. Evangeline fell into her stance, left blade in front and her right blade held behind her back, ready to strike. As they dueled, Evangeline was forced to change her strategies. Aragorn did not strike the same way or revert to the same positions. He changed.

During one point, their blades met and they locked in place. He was strong and she knew she was going to lose. She dropped one sword and drew up a sphere of water, holding it in place next to his head. He pushed away and let down his sword. Entranced, he reached out to touch the sphere. He quickly put his hand down when he realized that she was still on guard. "Flow. Water never holds back and neither should you, because your enemy will not do so. Do not doubt yourself. But most of all," he sheathed his sword, "do not doubt your heart."

His words had voiced what she felt. The techniques of her training were only tools and added knowledge. The real fight would have to come from inside her. She sheathed her swords, knowing that she no longer needed to practice with Daurion. I am ready.

__________

Throughout the next several years, Aragorn visited often. The House of Elrond had trusted Aragorn as a child and they trusted him all the more as a man who was the leader of the Dúnedain. Yet, it was not until thirty years later – only a season to the elves – that Aragorn expressed to Elrond his admiration and love for Arwen. While Elrond accepted the proposal, he made it clear that Aragorn would not marry Arwen while there was still so much turmoil in the world.

Aragorn and Arwen spoke for hours at a time. During one such time, Evangeline could not help but overhear their conversation.

"Why does one who should be king of Gondor wander throughout the north and refuse his throne?" Arwen asked.

Aragorn looked down. "There is no hope in men. You know of my lineage, of my ancestors failure to end this darkness when he had the chance. I cannot have the same-."

She pressed a finger on his lips. "You do not have that fate. Ada has said so himself."

Evangeline walked away, not wanting to intrude. She could not help but feel that in some way, all of their fates were entwined. She turned her thoughts to the hobbit that recently came from the Shire, the one who called himself Bilbo. He was a quaint little fellow and she enjoyed hearing the stories of his adventures. She was amazed that although he had seen so much death, he was able to be happy and still enjoy the beauty of the world. A part of her heart wished she could forget the darkness, the death, and the anticipation of battle. She wanted to walk the gardens, talk with Arwen, read books, and listen to Bilbo and his tales. But if I do so, I would have to smother the part of me that wants to put an end to the evil that dwells in this land. The darkness does not rest.

A few days later, Evangeline stood on one of Rivendells balconies, looking at the unusually grey sky. She wondered if it was going to rain. But rain did not come. An old man with a pointed grey hat entered Rivendell on a white horse. He quickly dismounted and walked straight to Aragorn, who appeared to recognize him. Evangeline furrowed her brow. The man did not appear threatening, but he was speaking with an authority to Aragorn, who suddenly looked prepared to do whatever the man said. The two spoke quickly, but Evangeline caught "hobbits," "wait for them," and "Isengard." The old man immediately rode out of Rivendell towards the direction of Isengard. A minute later, Aragorn rode out on his horse in the opposite direction.

Something is different. Aragorn always came and left at his own will, but he had never been sent out by someone. Evangeline thought over it for a moment. Something is not right. She quickly told Lord Elrond what she had seen and heard.

"That was Gandalf the Grey, one of the few wizards I know who take upon themselves to guide those who will change the fate of our world. Elrond glanced in the direction Aragorn had taken. There was a thick forest spread out from the river to the skyline. Gandalf has found something of great interest. If he is going to Isengard, he is most likely seeking the knowledge and wisdom of Saruman."

"What has he discovered?"

For the first time, Evangeline saw worry flash across his face. He answered, "I am not certain. But we should keep watch on the borders for now."

Against Elrond's assurance that he had elves for the task, Evangeline insisted on taking a watch.

A week passed, and Evangeline continued to stare into the woods and hills outside of Rivendell. He should not be gone for this long. Truth be told, he was usually gone for months before his next visit, but this time, Evangeline could not shrug off the dread that had begun to creep into her mind. She looked up. The sky was a single sheet of gray. Rain or not, it should not be so in the middle of the day. She decided to share her worries with Elrond.

She found him and Arwen talking through one of the marble walkways lined with white pillars. When Arwen saw Evangeline, she stepped away, thinking she might want to talk to Elrond in private. Evangeline did not wait for her to leave. "Ada, something is wrong."

He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Aragorn has been gone for too long. The skies grow darker from here to the Shire, and the winds whisper of fear."

Elrond closed his eyes. Arwen stood behind Evangeline as they waited, hoping he could see something of the future.

"Aragorn's mission is failing. One of the four hobbits he protects is stabbed by a Morgul blade. He will not survive the night without turning into a Wraith."

Evangeline stepped back. "I will ride to them."

"No, Evangeline, the Nazgûl are still in the woods!"

She froze, her lips firming. "And why exactly are the Nazgûl here?"

He turned away and whispered. "They are Ring Wraiths, Evangeline. It can only be because they believe that they have found the Ring of Power."

Evangelines heart thumped. "It cannot be so. Say it is not so."

"Nothing is certain."

Evangeline touched her swords. "All the more reason for me to go."

He raised his voice firmly. "You cannot-"

For the first time, Evangeline spoke with rage. "I cannot stand by while someone is dying! Can you not see? Because of an earth-born, so many have suffered. I cannot wait for more to die in my place!" She ran to the stables before Elrond responded. After unhooking her saddle from the wall, she realized that something did not look right in the stables.

Arwens horse was gone.

She ran outside, crying out Arwen's name, but she was nowhere to be seen. She sank to her knees as she clung on to a single desperate hope: her sister, the fastest rider in Rivendell, outpacing the Wraiths. She did not know how long she stayed on the ground. Arwen's time was running out, and all Evangeline could do was wait.

__________

It had not taken Arwen long to find them. She could sense the wounded hobbits distress from miles away. He struggles at the edge of death.

Night fell when she found them in the forest. Aragorn was with them. When he realized her intent, he insisted on riding with Frodo alone.

"The Wraiths will be drawn to me. Stay with the other hobbits and bring them to Rivendell. I will return to find you."

"Nay. Who of us is the faster rider?" Arwen's tone forbade any challenge.

Although Aragorn had never seen her ride at her fastest, he relented. Frodo would die if he did not. "The Valar speed your way."

Arwen clung protectively to Frodo. She gripped onto her horses mane while it raced through the forests. In mere minutes, she heard them. Then, she saw them. Black horses and cloaked riders surrounded her in a U-shape, struggling to get ahead of her. The Wraiths screamed with fury.

May you never tire! Arwen pushed her horse to sprint for its life. Though it had been her steed for decades, it was still a mortal beast. The Wraiths were from the dead, and there was no telling how fast or long their horses would go. Arwen clung onto a single goal, their greatest chance of survival – the river.

The river Bruinen came into sight and her horse plunged into it at full speed. There was no need to swim in water that was only a few feet deep. Once across, Arwen halted and jerked her horse around. Nine Ring Wraiths faced her from the opposite side. Their black horses shrieked. They saw her horse was tiring. It could not outrun them any longer.

One Wraith hissed. "Give up the Halfling, she-elf!"

Arwen drew her sword. "If you want him, come and claim him!"

Metal screeched as nine blades were drawn. The Wraiths began to cross, but Arwen did not run. Looking to the river, she called out in the elven language, summoning the ancient magic of Rivendell to protect its borders.

__________

Evangeline felt it. Like an invisible force, it pulled her. She rose from the ground and ran to the waterfall that led to the river separating Rivendell from the woods. She heard several elven voices whispering through the air like phantoms, but only one stood out to her. Arwen.

Evangeline scrambled up a rocky ledge. Let it not be too late. Not this time! The phantom voices became louder, as did Arwens. There was a massive river, too deep to wade in safely. Kneeling at its edge, Evangeline placed both of her hands into the water. As she connected with the fall, all of her ferocity came out into a massive wave. Enhanced by magic, the wave exploded from the fall like a stampede of horses. Evangeline closed her eyes, feeling the wave rampage downstream the river.

Like a vision, she could see through the river horses eyes as they rampaged with the flow of the river. Ahead were nine hooded black riders. The white-foamed waters smashed into them with so much fury that Evangeline could feel snap of the horses bones. The wave ground the dark riders onto the bottom of the river as if they were mere strands of wheat.

While the wave broke down, Evangeline could feel the magic taking its toll. Her energy rapidly drained until she couldnt stand. She blacked out before she hit the ground.

__________

As Arwen watched the vanquishing of her pursuers, she heard Frodo moan as he leaned off the horse. "No!" She quickly dismounted and set him down. His face paled and his blue eyes glazed over, neither seeing her nor the light. He was struggling to breathe. "Frodo, no! Frodo don't give in, not now!" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized what was going to happen. She held him close to her, praying with all her might to Valar. What grace has given me, let it pass to him. Let him be spared. Save him!

__________

Legolas felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "Adar, I cannot stay."

Thranduil stared at him in silence.

Legolas could see the challenge in his father's eyes. He continued, "Middle Earth is being threatened as we know it. Even our forest has been touched by the darkness of Mordor." He was referring to the discovery that one of the trees had died by an unknown illness, something unheard of during Lord Thranduils reign. While it was still alive, healers worked on the tree day and night, but it was barely responding. Eventually, it gave away to whatever was attacking it. Starting from the bark around its base, it turned black – almost as if charred. The invisible fire worked its way to the core of the tree, killing it. Only then did it spread to the tips of the smallest branches, eliminating any sign of life and beauty that the tree once gave.

Thranduil sensed that his son had changed since returning. His place is here, but again, the threat of banishment itself has never stopped him from following his concerns. "Legolas, you were meant to be heir to the throne of Mirkwood. If you decide to choose another path, one may only hope that you know where you are placing your feet." He turned away and left the throne room.

Legolas' heart sank from his father's disapproval. Yet, I do not have a choice. He does not see what would happen if I were to stay. Mirkwood would always be his home, but he believed that if he did not leave soon, there would be no forest to return to. He knew he must leave, but he had no idea where to go.

Legolas spent under an hour preparing for a long journey. He did not want to bid anyone, not even his brothers, farewell. He did not want to see the hurt in anyones eyes, and he did not want anyone to try to discourage him from leaving again. As he stood on the outskirts of Mirkwood he held the reins of the white horse at his side. Two short swords were sheathed on his back along with a quiver of arrows and his long bow. He stood silently, trying to decide where to go.

In the distance approached a dove as white as snow. He gave a series of high-pitched whistles and it veered over to him. It landed on his shoulder, carrying a scroll bearing Rivendells seal. Legolas carefully untied it from the birds feet. He unrolled the scroll.

To the chosen lords of Middle Earth and their successors:

We all are aware that the Shadow is growing. Mordor and its allies are not at rest. If we do not act, Sauron will no longer be bound by the chains that keep him in Mordor. A Council concerning the fate of Middle Earth will be held at Rivendell.

Signed,

Lord Elrond of Rivendell

Legolas rolled up the scroll and, giving it back to the dove, sent it to continue its way to the King of Mirkwood. At least Adar will know where I intend to go.

On one of the palace balconies, Lord Thranduil watched his son depart. Only when his son was gone from sight did he go the gardens to receive the doves message. After reading the scroll, he set it down on a bench and offered some seeds to the bird. He strolled through the gardens. The message had restated what he already knew: the world was changing for all races. He sensed that Elrond, along with many in the other elven kingdoms, might sail to the undying lands.

But not himself. He would not change, he could not. Things in Mirkwood remained as they had for centuries. The people would not want to leave, and neither did their king.

Sometime during his train of thought, a thin strand of leaves uncurled from its branch and reached out to caress his ivory cheek. He froze and his eyes glazed over. His heart stirred with a mixture of emotions. As soft as a whisper, he spoke her name.