The Black Gate loomed up starkly, silhouetted in the blue sky.

"It is still impenetrable," Legolas said, gazing up past the topmost watchtower, now abandoned.

"We must go around," Maldor pointed out. "And it is getting darker."

"Soon, then," Faewyn said. "We must find a way into the mountains," she called back to the men.

"Aye, miss," said one, and another raised a hand. "If I may, my Prince?"

Legolas looked to him, and he spoke.

"Although the evening draws near, there is a section of broken rock which, once traversed, leads to a way in."

"There does not appear to be another option," Legolas agreed. "We follow you."

The man nodded. "I am Bern, at your service."

"You have our thanks for journeying with us," Legolas smiled.

"Pleased to be of assistance," Bern said. "The way will be easiest through here."

We turned our horses and followed after the Gondorians.

It was dusk, and long shadows cast themselves on the pale ground.

I looked over at Legolas, who stubbornly refused to meet my gaze.

Wasn't that what I wanted? For him to make me a shadow of his life?

I urged on my horse, desperate to flee, but it didn't escape me that his eyes followed me, searching me.

The dark air felt thick.

"There is still some here," Legolas said, concerned. "Gianna, stay with me."

I almost gave in to his tone, urgent and pleading.

"I can take care of myself," I said coolly. Legolas looked at me, hurt in his eyes. He turned away.

"Thank you," I added inaudibly from the part of me that regretted everything I had said since this morning.

I tried to nudge Eärlin forward but the stallion reared suddenly, leaving me clinging onto his back.

"What is it?" I breathed. I nocked an arrow and pointed it into the darkness.

A shout went up and the men of Gondor drew their swords in a single sound of scraping metal.

I wheeled around, searching for Maldor and Faewyn. Faewyn was at the head of the men and Maldor was hovering behind me. The usual sense of unease was magnified into a crippling sense of panic. Silent figures started leaping from the cliffs above, startling the horses.

"Do not think we are unarmed," Legolas said from above a steep ledge of rock. How he had gotten there I had no idea, but now was not the time to wonder.

"I have no doubt you are armed," said a figure from behind me. I looked behind me to face a short, muscular man. His coarse features were grotesquely accented by thick silver piercings in the light of a flickering torch he bore.

"Who do you answer to?" I called, narrowing my eyes. I tried to focus on the need for knowing who these people were, to keep myself and everyone safe.

"Anyone who keeps the truth," he snarled, cocking his head.

"What truth do you speak of?" Legolas called, his voice ringing like a clear bell in the night.

"There is no respite from evil," laughed another from the veil of darkness.

"We keep it alive so others may accept it," a smooth tone added.

"Show yourself, or be proved cowards," Maldor commanded, his eyes menacing and grim in the faint light of the torches.

A group of nine or ten men flamed into view, all grasping eerie torches which framed their faces in menacing firelight.

"You cannot kill us," one said smugly. "But you are easy. Here, now, you know who your masters are, commanders of the last great king."

My mind reeled. Last great king?

Echoing laughter filled the rocks, seemingly amplified through the jagged stone.

"We have no business with exiled servants of Sauron," Legolas spat.

Faewyn looked at me.

The Remnants, in the flesh. Or not. Aragorn had mentioned they each were tainted with a fraction of Sauron's spirit which fled after the One Ring was destroyed. Not truly alive, but the malice was there. And they were immortal now?

"We are not exiles, but we are misunderstood," said a tall, dark haired man at the fringe. "People must accept that darkness will never leave, that unless they take it in, it will consume them."

"That does not give anyone the right to refuse to fight," Faewyn hissed. She was crouched on Nornithil like a cat, her pale eyes glinting in the darkness.

"So...then fight." said one of the men. A low rumble of laughter emanated again from them, and they sprang into action, sparring viciously with our group.

My mind seized the sound, turning it into a torment of voices.

I whimpered.

Fear is the weapon. It's the necklace, control yourself.

I reached to my throat to yank it off, but if I was injured, it would risk everything. I left it on and focused only on the surrounding scene, fighting the panic which seized at my lungs and squeezed the air from them.

I blindly shot an arrow into the direction of the fighting, and slid off Eärlin. "Find us later," I whispered. He nickered and cantered away, leaving me in the center of the commotion. Swords flashed everywhere, and arrows sprouted out of the backs of the attackers, but they didn't seem to mind. As I looked around, however, I noticed that they weren't aiming to kill.

There was something else they wanted. To tire us out? Or else to try and make us succumb to the doom they brought?

Suddenly one of them saw me and strode forwards, leering.

"Here at last I lay eyes on the Starmarked," he said.

"Here at last I have a target for my arrow," I snarled, letting it fly. It cleanly embedded itself in his chest, the shaft jutting out from his sternum.

He looked mildly surprised as he looked down.

"Oh, my, but we can't have that," he clucked, plucking the arrow from his chest. The tip came away clean, and no hole was in him.

I felt bile rising in my throat, and backed away.

"What are you?" I whispered.

"The other side of the coin," he answered. He eyed my throat hungrily, the pale glow of the stars on my collarbone reflected in his eyes.

"I am protected by those who came before, and those who will come after," I said, seemingly of my own accord. "You have no power over me, Gorthaur."

The man shrank back, fear in his eyes.

Cruel hatred replaced his craven stance and he swung a crude sword at me, grazing my abdomen barely. I hardly felt the metal sweep through the thin fabric of my tunic and instead looked, immobile, in front of me, as the Remnant group seemed to me like great twisted creatures, hissing and screeching.

I heard a dull throbbing in my ears, and looked desperately for a flash of an elven blade or the shadow of one of our companions. Finding none, I shot arrow after arrow at them, and though they found their mark, none did aught but anger them.

I gasped for breath, so wracked with desperation I couldn't think.

I failed to notice the tall, green eyed warrior behind me dragging one of the men of Gondor into the shadows, and a pulse in my ears drowned out the sound of his screams as a long, black spear was buried in his body.

I spun around, lost in the chaos, helpless against these lost souls who sought to destroy everything which had been bought so dearly.

And though a few of them who passed grabbed at me as they crept back into the night, there was no sign of them just as quickly as they came.

I sunk to the ground, inhaling the tentative air, thankful that they had been nothing else than a menace. An ever present menace.

Legolas appeared over the spiny ridge.

"They have gone, and I know not where," he said. "How many are injured?"

Four of the six men raised their hands, but luckily there seemed to be no casualties.

A tall man strode forward who hadn't spoken before.

"If you please, my Prince," he said, addressing Legolas, "we must go if there are no further problems. We cannot risk them finding us again.

"You are right, thank you," Legolas said, looking preoccupied at the state of the company. Surprisingly, the worst injury was a long, thin, knife cut along the forearm of one man.

They really weren't looking to kill, I realized. Maybe they know something we don't?

I looked around dazedly, remembering the words I had spoken to the man facing me.

He called me "Starmarked". Aragorn was right, they knew about me, and surely they would use this information to continue and exploit us.

Maldor took a few minutes to bind the few wounded and we made to set off.

Eärlin was nowhere to be seen.

Stupid to send him off like that, I cursed.

"Faewyn, let me ride with you," I called to her. "Eärlin has not returned."

"He will be back soon," Maldor told me, "Elven horses rarely stray far from their masters."

"You can't," Faewyn cringed, "There isn't room."

She was right. There were too many supplies, food, water, that would not let bear another rider.

"Legolas, can you take her?" Maldor asked, still methodically sweeping the area with his gaze to ensure no further surprises. "Arod can take the extra weight."

Heavens, Maldor had no idea, I thought in dismay. Legolas would never--

"Gianna, come," Legolas said. He reached out a hand and against all rational thought, I took it, and he pulled me onto his horse without a backward glance.

My eyelids fluttered shut as my mind continued to swim in a haze.

"Av'osto, Gianna" Legolas murmured quietly. Do not fear.

Surprisingly, I felt my concentration return, along with something else.

I shuddered against him, so close. I felt his heat through my tunic.

Too close, I reminded myself. I stiffened and looked at the newly assembled group.

"We ride continuing towards the hidden pass," Legolas announced. "Whoever would, lead us thence."

Bern and two others took the lead, walking swiftly, and I found myself relaxing, lulled into a stupor by the steady rhythm of Arod's hooves and the catastrophic proximity of Legolas.

Finally, just as the moon rose over the horizon, we reached a cleft in the rock which protruded to cover our path. "We cannot find a way in until the light of day is upon us," Maldor said to Legolas. "Shall we rest here?"

Legolas nodded, and motioned for us to stop. The men gathered around, making a space under the shadow of the looming rock, and although a few looked nervously around, there seemed to be no other shady visitors.

I slid out of the saddle, determined not to look at him, but I muttered a quick "Hannon le" to ease my searing conscience.

Soon, Eldarion's bread was passed around, and apples, and everyone started to relax, settling in for the night.

That is, until I saw someone who made my blood run cold. Helmet after helmet came off, and concealed under one was Falcon, who I didn't remember seeing earlier and certainly wouldn't expect to be in the King's guard.

I pretended I didn't see him and instead walked over to Faewyn.

"Falcon is here," I told her. "You mustn't say anything. Let me deal with him."

She glanced covertly around to confirm the fact, and turned to me with a worried glance. "That is not wise, Gia."

"If we make a big deal out of it then I will be a problem," I told her. "Just trust me. If something happens, intervene, but please. I know what to do."

She nodded curtly and relayed the message to Maldor, who had narrowed his eyes at the revelation.

I walked among the men, offering waterskins, and stopped at Falcon to scrutinize him irritably.

Unfortunately for him, my bare annoyance soon evolved into blatant displeasure, which I was much too pleased to show.

"I was not under the impression you are the type to be honored with the King's personal invitation," I scowled.

"Ah, well," he smiled, not at all surprised to see me, "I did volunteer, after all."

"Wonder why," I said sarcastically. "It's not a pleasure."

I turned away.

"That necklace makes you shine," he snickered from behind me. "Like a...star."

He, too, eyed the marks on my skin. I shivered, wishing I was wearing a higher neck.

God, had nobody ever seen stars before?

Not on people's skin, I told myself.

"Don't talk to me, Falcon," I said, glaring. "These days, I try to get my arrows in straight."

"I thought I already told you I wasn't mortal?" he remarked, wearing a dissatisfied pout.

"And I thought I already told you that you needed to leave me alone?" I countered, furious.

"I thought you'd be glad. You see, I've reconsidered. I'll continue to offer you my assistance."

"If I needed any slaves I would hire someone who was hardworking and smart," I said sweetly. "Not a skulking serpent like you."

I stormed off, breathing heavily.

Wow, what a party.

Freaky gangster darkness people, an awkward no-fly zone with the Prince of Greenwood and my own personal stalker.

I walked out into the moonlight alone.

Faewyn met me there, coming up soundlessly behind me.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I said softly. "There's too much to think about."

"Talk to him," Faewyn urged.

"I just did," I frowned. "Did you notice he was here before?"

"Well, I meant that you should speak to Legolas," Faewyn sighed. "But no, I didn't notice Falcon until now."

"Fae, what does he want?" I said with frustration. "He told me last night that he wanted to help me because he was the closest to the Valar or something."

"You would know if he was such an emissary," Faewyn pointed out. "The Valar do not have vassals lightly, nor, I believe, would they keep you in the dark about it."

I nodded. She was right, I knew, but then why had he come?

I let the question hang in the air for a moment.

"Did you tell Legolas about him?" Faewyn asked after a moment.

"He doesn't need to know," I said irritably. "This is none of his business."

"I'm sure he'd beg to differ," Faewyn said. "Gianna, just tell him why you aren't talking to him."

"That should be an enlightening conversation," I said bitterly. "'Hello, Legolas, do you know that I'm really so in love with you that it hurts, but I am going to act as if I hate you since I do not want to break your heart, so do not blame yourself, okay? Cheers, bye.' No, Faewyn, he can blame himself all he wants. It's better than him thinking I have always felt something towards him."

"But you have," she said with a sad smile. "And he knows."

"He can't possibly," I said. "I've never given him anything to--"

"Denying it serves no purpose," she said, "but do as you may. If he hears anything else it will not be from me. Is that blood?" he added, noticing the dark, angry slash across my abdomen.

"Yes," I sighed. "But it's almost healed."

"You are lucky," she said. "Come, rest before the morrow arises."

"I don't think I'll be able to," I sighed darkly.

"Do it anyway," she called back.

I grudgingly entered the crowded space hidden in the outcropping but wordlessly went out the other side. There was no way I could sleep like this. A sudden shape materialized in the moonlight, palely glinting as it ran.

"Eärlin," I said with a relieved smile. He approached, galloping at tremendous speed. In his mouth he had clutched a small leather pouch and he pawed the ground nervously. I took a small lantern from the ground near the men and held it up to the object.

"What's this?" I asked. I took it, and inside was a small metal flask labeled "N.P." in engraved letters. I opened it and the sharp smell of brandy drifted out.

"You mustn't steal people's things," I reprimanded him.

But he didn't find it here, I realized. It came from somewhere else.

"Where did you get this?" I muttered, glancing back into the fire-lit shadow of the camp. I swung onto his back and he sprinted off of his own accord, and at last stopped suddenly before a dark puddle. It was blood, dark and pungent, making me dizzy. The leather flask pouch came from here, I concluded. I looked at my hands and they were stained with sticky smears of blood.

Forgetting anything I had said earlier, I went back to the camp at full speed. I searched for Legolas's familiar presence but didn't see him. At last I saw him standing off a few metres away, armed and watchful.

"Legolas," I said suddenly. "There's something you ought to see."

He wordlessly nodded and made to go get Arod, but I shook my head.

"There's no time," I said. "The others must think Eärlin hasn't returned yet, and you never left."

"I am not sure this is a wise decision," Legolas said, eyeing me warily.

"Please, just do this, you never have to share a horse with me again," I assured him.

He nodded at last and lightly sprang up behind me.

"Noro, Eärlin (Run, Eärlin)," I whispered. The stallion leapt away, hooves pounding.

Distractingly enough, Legolas had slid his hands around my waist quite effectively, but luckily we got there rather quickly, so my thoughts had hardly time to escalate.

"What is this?" Legolas whispered in dismay as he saw the stained earth.

"When is it from?" I asked.

"Not long past." he said, brow furrowed. In the short time I had been gone, already the blood had soaked further into the earth, muddying it the colour of ochre in the dim light of the lantern I still carried. "Gianna, this happened tonight. But nobody who rides with us lost that much blood, it's impossible. There's either another party of men nearby who were also attacked by the Remnants or one of the Remnants was killed."

"There's this, too," I handed him the flask.

He looked at it curiously, turning it over in his hands.

"Did you see what happened with the man earlier?" I said in a hushed voice.

"I saw nothing but the first attack, I closed them off from the back." Legolas replied. "What happened?"

"I shot him," I said in a hushed voice. "He was threatening me and I shot him. The arrow went through him, Legolas."

"No blood?" he asked, concerned.

"He pulled it out and there was no wound." I replied, my voice shaking.

"They are not only immortal," he said, deep in thought. "They are also not destroyable with any weapon. The remaining shard of the evil they harbor protects them. Whoever this was, they were dealt a mortal wound. I can't think why they did not aim to kill us."

I saw his troubled look, though, as he looked into the distance, and gleaned there was more than he was letting on.

"Come, we must go," he said. "I don't think we should speak of this to anyone else."

"I will not," I told him.

"Let me see your hands," he said after a moment.

I hesitantly showed him my palms, which were streaked with blood.

"You cannot go back like this," he said, a shadow of concern in his voice.

"What do you propose we do?" I asked, lightly teasing.

"Here," he said. He took out a waterskin and poured it over my hands, lightly tracing my palms with his fingers as the dry blood washed off.

I looked at him, as he continued his touch, slow and reassuring, over my hands.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. How could I be anything but.

He gave no sign that he heard me, but stood up. "There, now nobody will accuse you," he said with a semblance of his usual sly smile.

We set off on my horse without another word, and came into the camp just as quickly as we had left.

As I looked at Legolas, it seemed that he wore a pained expression when he turned away for the night.