-a/n POV-

The following morning, Strider leads the four hobbits and me, plus a newly acquired pony away from the village of Bree.

"Where are you taking us?" Frodo asks as he walks behind Strider. Aurora is beside Strider, helping him in scouting the area. "Into the wild." Strider answers. Aurora hears the hobbits whisper between each other.

"How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" Merry says. "I think a servant of the Enemy would look fairer and feel fouler," Frodo said to him. "He's foul enough!" Aurora chuckled under her hood at this. Aragorn sends her a glance but she ignores it.

"We have no choice but to trust him." Frodo retorts. "But where is he leading us?" Sam question. Yea that's true, Gandalf didn't tell us that we were heading after Bree.' Aurora thought As she cast a blue look at strider, he reply.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee. To the House of Elrond." Sam's face lit up with joy. Aurora's face spread into a smile. "Did you hear that? Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!" Sam beam. "It indeed seems we are, master Sam." Aurora smiles.

The Hobbits pause, pulling cookware and food from their packs. Strider looks back at them. "Gentlemen, we do not stop 'till nightfall."
"What about breakfast?" Pippin asks as he turns to Strider. "We've already had it," Strider says with a confused look on his face.

Aurora pulls him aside and whispered. "The hobbits have more meals than us big folk. Ask me not how I know it, cause I don't know-how. My mentor Gandalf thought me a whole about them since I was going to travel with them" she says, a smile across her beautiful. Her hood had fallen slightly off, revealing her beautiful blue eyes and plump lips.

Strider stares at her in wonder for a second, then continues to walk on. "Don't think he knows about second breakfast master Pip," Aurora says as she smiles at the hobbits. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them doesn't he?" I shake my head and merry pipes in.

"I wouldn't count on it." From over the bushes, Strider tosses an apple and Merry catches it. He hands it to Pippin and pats him on the shoulder. Another apple flies through the air, hitting Pippin in the head. He looks up bewildered.

Aurora laughs and drags her hood over her head. Her laugh is like music from an elven harp. It calms down the hobbits and also Strider.

"Pippin!" Merry calls.

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The party slowly make their way through increasingly rough country. It becomes darker and the forest gives way to flat marshland. All go up to their knees in the sludgy mire. The conditions are made worse by an army of midges that attack them unmercifully. Merry slaps despairingly at the cloud of pests hovering around him.

Aurora gives off heat, deflecting the pets around her. "What do they eat — when they can't get Hobbit?" Merry exclaims.

Behind him, Pippin stumbles and falls into the mire. Aurora helps him up and continues to walk through the marshes.

They make camp for the night. Strider manages to kill a deer which he brings back for their rations.

The Moon rises as the hobbits fall asleep. Strider keeps watching by the fire. He hums a tune softly. "Tinúviel elvanui,
Elleth alfirin ethelhael
O hon ring finnil fuinui
A renc gelebrin thiliol." Aurora is also a way but sits close to Frodo.

"Who is she? This woman you sing of?" She asks softly, moving closer to the fire. "'Tis the Lay of Lúthien. The Elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal." Strider answers sadly. Aurora nods and a sad look pledge her face.

"She died, I presume?" She said. Strider looks away, but Aurora can see him nod. She takes a hand on his shoulder and presses it affectionately. "I lost my mother too, both my parents left this world at my birth. I remember none of them, but from what I've been told, they were great."

Now is it Striders turn to show affection. He patted her gently on the back, giving her a gentle smile.

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Saruman is in the Chamber of the Palantír at Isengard. His hand is suspended over the Stone, and a fiery light is in its depths. The eye of Sauron appears within the Palantir. Saruman, eyes closed, appears to be communicating with Sauron by pure thought.

"The power of Isengard is at your command, Sauron, Lord of the Earth." He says. "Build me an army worthy of Mordor!" Sauron hiss. The image is then cut.

Saruman is sitting on a chair in one of his chambers, his arms wound about him. He looks haunted. Three puny Orcs file into the room. "What orders from Mordor my Lord? What does the Eye command?" The first orc says.

"We have work to do."
——————

Huge trees are being felled, their creaks and groans like cries of pain as they are brought crashing down by Orcs.

On the pinnacle of Orthanc, Gandalf, disheveled and scarred, wakes. He slowly pushes himself up and moves to the edge and peers down at the activity surrounding the tower.

"The trees are strong, my Lord. Their roots go deep." One orc tells sauroman as he walks to them. "Rip them all down!" He says.

——————

Strider and the Hobbits have left the marshland behind and are now crossing the rough rocky country. Strider stops and looks at the ruins atop a tall hill. "This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl. We shall rest here tonight." He tells the others. Aurora cast the watchtower a glance. He's right, they will be safe for a while.

The Hobbits, weary from the long travel, fling off their packs and settle down in an overhang near the hill's summit. Strider opens a bundle, revealing four short swords. He hands them to his companions.

"These are for you. Keep them close. I'm going to have a look around. Stay here."

Frodo wakes up with a start. Merry, Pippin, and Sam are gathered around a fire. Aurora flies up. "Put it out, you fools! Put it out!" She hiss. She stamps on the fire, trying to douse the flames. "Oh, that's nice! Ash on my tomatoes!" Pippin complains.

Suddenly, a Nazgûl's cry pierces the darkness. The hobbits jump up, startled, and look over the lip of the overhang. Aurora growls and draws her sword. It glints blue and purple in the presence of the Nazgûls.

The hobbits see five Nazgûl closings in on Amon Sûl. The hobbits unsheathe their small swords. "They are here, come! Follow me!" Aurora growls as she leads the others to run up the steps, towards the ruins.

"Go!" Around cries. The night surrounds them as they climb to the top. The hobbits stand in the ring of broken pillars of the old ruin, eyes darting about; shadows rise out of the dark.

The Nazgûl surround them, pulling out their long swords. Aurora growls, scales growling on her neck. The Nazgûls shriek as they see her and start to back away slowly, still their swords were drawn.

The others prepare to defend Frodo. Aurora is standing in front of them, her swords still glowing. But now with more powerful purple fire. "You shall not take him, devils!" She roars.

Fire swirling around her, the scales on her neck growing more. Sam clashes swords with the Nazgûl but is swiftly thrown aside. Merry and Pippin close the gap in front of Frodo, but they too are cast aside.

Frodo backs across the hill, dropping his sword with a clatter. Aurora is thrown aside but managed to set a little flame against its head.

He stumbles, falls, and crawls backward until he is backed against a fallen column. Frodo brings out the Ring from his pocket. Immediately, the leader of the Wraiths approaches Frodo, drawing a long dagger.

Aurora grasps for breath and sends a flame towards the leader of the wraiths. But the flame doesn't hit it before it had hit Frodo.

She then sees a picture. Frodo slips on the Ring. The world changes. The Nazgûls' true forms are revealed to him, shining like ghostly kings.

The Witch-King reaches out for the Ring, and the Ring responds, lifting Frodo's hand towards the wraith. Frodo yanks his hand back. The King stabs him through the left shoulder with his long dagger, pinning him to the ground, then reaches again for the Ring. Frodo cries out in pain.

Strider leaps over Frodo and attacks the Nazgûl with both sword and flaming brand. The King withdraws his dagger and drops it. Frodo summons pulls the Ring from his finger. He reappears. 

"Ah!" Frodo cries in dismay. "Frodo!" Sam called. "Oh, Sam!" Frodo said, his voice breaking in pain. Suddenly a hand is at Sam's shoulder. " I can try to heal him, but not here." Strider nodded and turned to Sam.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," Strider said. The blade dissolves and Strider drops its handle in disgust.

"This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine." He added. Aurora sat down beside Frodo, her head thrumming with pain. "She will come." She whispered. None of the others heard her words.

Strider carries Frodo over his shoulder and proceeds to leave Amon Sûl, the other hobbits following closely behind them. Nazgûl's cries are still heard in the area. "Hurry!" Strider cries.

"We're six days from Rivendell. He'll never make it!" Sam shouts after Strider. Aurora lumps behind them, panting as her wounds pulsating through her body. Pippin sees her and runs to over to her " are you okay, Rora?" He asked in concern.

"It's nothing I can't handle. We have to focus on Frodo for now, I'll be fine" she says and lays her hand on his shoulder.

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Back at Isengard, giant caverns have been opened up and a forge is seen at the base, where hundreds of Orcs are working. Sounds of metal clinking rise into the air.

High above, Gandalf is still imprisoned on the pinnacle of the tower. A tiny white moth struggles against the breeze and reaches the top of the tower. It flutters to Gandalf, who captures it in his fingers.

It appears to sit still in his hand and listen to his words as though spoken in moth language. "Gwaihir. Go, Gwaihir." Gandalf whispering a final command. The moth flies away.

Down in the Caverns of Isengard, the forging of weapons and armor is well underway. Hundreds of helmets and swords are piling up. Saruman observes all the activities with pride.

Deep in the pits, Orcs are tending strange moving formations in the mud. Groans issue from within the mounds. Something appears to be struggling to get out. A giant creature emerges, killing the Orc who has been helping it to be born.

The creature is massive, towering above the smaller Orcs, with huge teeth, and covered in slime. Saruman gazes at his creation in rapt admiration.

—————-

Back in the forest, the Hobbits and Strider rest beneath a gathering of huge stone trolls. "Look, Mister Frodo! It's Mister Bilbo's trolls!" Sam tells Frodo. Aurora is now really dizzy and sits a few feet away from the hobbits and Strider. She hears their words, but she knows she can't do anything.

Sam then feels Frodo's forehead. "Mister Frodo?" Sam turns to Strider. "He's going cold!" He says, his voice breaking with tears and fear. "Is he going to die?" Pippin asks. "He's passing into the shadow world. He will soon become a wraith like them." Strider says in monotone.

Frodo gasps. The Nazgûl cry is heard from a distance. Frodo cries out as if in answer to them. "They're close," Merry says. Strider: "Sam, do you know Athelas plant?"
Sam: "Athelas?"
Strider: "Kingsfoil?"
Sam: "Kingsfoil — aye, it's a weed."
Strider: "It may help to slow the poison. Hurry!"

They search for the plant in the nearby undergrowth. Aurora gasps and clutches her shoulder. She feels the same pain that is rushing in Frodo's veins. A little thing about her raze of shapeshifters is that they feel the pain to those they have bonded with.

Strider finds a small patch and proceeds to collect it. A sword appears at his throat.
Arwen: "What's this? A ranger caught off his guard?"

Frodo, lying on the ground, sees a white light. He turns towards it and sees a beautiful Elf-lady approaching on a white horse. She dismounts and walks to him.

Arwen: "Frodo.... Im Arwen. Telin le thaed" (I am Arwen. I have come to help you.)
Arwen: "Lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan na ngalad" (Hear my voice. Come back to the light.)

Merry: "Who is she?"
Arwen: [kneels] "Frodo!"
Sam: "She's an Elf."

Strider chews a portion of the Athelas and applies it to Frodo's wound.
Arwen: "He's fading!"
Frodo gasps. His action is mirrored in Aurora. She stands up and stumbles beside Strider and Arwen.
Aurora: Ride Arwen, take him to your father.

Aurora then vanishes to thin air. Everyone gasps.
Merry: did she leave us?"
Arwen: no, she was called by my father to heal. I will ride now"

Arwen: [gets up as Strider lifts Frodo in his arms] "There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."
Strider mounts Frodo onto Arwen's horse.

Strider: "Dartho guin perian. Rych le ad tolthathon." (Stay with the Hobbits. I will send horses back for you.)
Arwen: "Hon mabathon. Rochon ellint im." (I'm the faster rider. I'll take him.)
Strider: "Andelu i ven." (The road is too dangerous.)
Pippin: "What are they saying?"

Arwen: "Frodo fîr. Ae athradon i hir, tur gwaith nin beriatha hon." (Frodo's dying. If I can get across the river, the power of my people will protect him.)

Arwen: "I do not fear them."
Strider: "Be iest lîn." (As you wish.)
Their hands clasp tenderly. Arwen mounts her horse, with Frodo seated in front of her.
Arwen: "Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim!" (Ride fast, Asfaloth, ride fast!)

[Asfaloth gallops away.]

Sam (to Strider): "What are you doing?! Those wraiths are still out there!"
Strider stares after Arwen. But his mind is with someone else.
————

Arwen rides on as the Nazgûl gives chase. The night gives way to day as they pursue her, from forest to open plain, sometimes closing, sometimes falling behind. One of the Wraiths closes on Frodo, reaching out as if to snatch the Ring from him. Arwen spurs Asfaloth on to an even greater effort.

Arwen: "Noro lim, Asfaloth!" (Ride faster, Asfaloth!)

Arwen reaches a river and splashes across a ford. She pauses and looks back. The Nazgûl have stopped at the edge of the water. Their mounts rear up, screaming, terrified of entering the river.

Nazgûl: "Give up the halfling, she-Elf!"
Arwen: [draws her sword in challenge] "If you want him, come and claim him!"

The Nazgûl draw their swords and urge their reluctant horses across the ford. Arwen begins to chant to the river.

Arwen:

"Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer,
Rimmo nin Bruinen, dan in Ulair!
Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer,
Rimmo nin Bruinen, dan in Ulair!"

(Waters of the Misty Mountains, listen to the great word,
flow waters of Loudwater, against the Ringwraiths!)

The water level rises. A great flood comes around the bend, with crests shaped like white horses. The Nazgûl are cast from their mounts and washed away down the river as Arwen watches. Frodo starts to slip from the horse. Arwen lays him on the ground.

Arwen: "No! Frodo... No! Frodo, don't give in! Not now!"
Arwen cries and embraces Frodo.
Arwen (voiceover): "What grace is given me, let it pass to him, let him be spared — save him."

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That's all for this chapter:) a pretty good cliffhanger, right? Hehe~
-Saph