Just got back from the vacation of a lifetime! I went to Cancun and stayed at Riu Cancun, a place I HIGHLY recommend! Great food, entertainment, staff, view location and so much stuff to do! It also is the perfect place to relax and just lay out on the beach. But enough of that, on to the story! I was longing for some action, so I played with the events, this never actually happened but I really liked the idea. Also, the next few chapters are solid adventure, you'll see…

A Strike From The Shadows

When you see this, Rea is thinking to Elsira.

When you see this, Elsira is thinking to Rea.

And this is me wasting your time!

(Frodo POV)

I sit idly on my bed, still quite stricken by my meeting with Galadriel. I'm not quite sure what to make of it, and the Ring has been oddly silent. Ever since I spoke to her, it has been silent, dead silent, as if waiting for something. I shake my head; such thoughts are best left alone. I'm safe here.

I stand up and open my door, not wanting to linger here in the deathly silence any longer. I step out into the hall and start walking slowly, no particular place in mind. The sun is setting, and the shadows are growing longer as the minutes slip slowly by, each second bringing Middle Earth one step closer to its doom, unless we prevail. I must have hope.

A shadow moves slightly, darting left. I glance up to see a monstrous creature leaping down at me, and I have no weapons. I dive out of the way and it lands silently before advancing menacingly. I leap back, my back hitting a wall painfully, and sink down to my knees, my death approaching silently. An orcish assassin, unheard of up until now. I didn't even think it was possible. I close my eyes, my breath catching in my throat.

(Elsira POV)

I walk down the near silent halls, clean and unarmed for the first time since I arrived here. Soon, my magic will disappear and everything will be a bit more normal. I sigh contentedly, and turn a corner.

My heart stops, an orc looms menacingly over Frodo, sword raised and poised to strike. I have mere seconds to react, and then I feel myself get shoved aside, except my body didn't move. I watch as I raise a hand and with a single word a bolt of white lightning erupts from my fingertips, hitting the orc squarely and throwing him back. I lower my arm and say a phrase, and a glowing, translucent silver sword appears in my hand. I run gracefully to the orc, who is just beginning to rise, and leap past him, sword extended from my right hand. I land and stand up straight, then turn towards the orc, just in time to see its head topple from his body as it collapses into a pile. The sword vanishes, and I turn towards Frodo, who is staring wide eyed at me.

I regain control of myself, feeling my consciousness slide back into place, and a single thought goes through my head; Reavardian. She must have taken over or something. Like when I read elvish, or fought that cave troll. I take a shuddering step and fall, my legs giving out. I collapse onto the floor, and everything goes black.

My eyes open and look around. I'm in my room, and I see the fellowship talking in hushed voices on the balcony, except for Aragorn, who stands by my side.

"She's awake." He says to the rest of the group as our eyes meet. The Fellowship gathers around me, and I sit up.

"How long was I out?" I ask quietly, hoping it wasn't long. We can't afford much delay if we are to destroy the ring whilst also avoiding Sauron's forces.

"A few hours." Aragorn says calmly. I see concern on everyone's face, and open relief on Frodo's. A few hours is ok, I'm glad it wasn't more. The ritual! Oh no, I won't be able to lock my magic, but after what just happened, maybe that's not such a bad thing. After all, it saved Frodo's life. I may not like magic, but I can't deny the usefulness of it. But now I'm much more concerned about Reavardian. She was useful, but that's far too dangerous. I can't just randomly not be me, that is inviting danger with open arms.

"Frodo told us what he saw, but now I'm more interested in your side of the story." Aragorn's voice draws every eye, and then directs them to me. Boromir seems particularly interested in my odd actions, as he never really trusted me, despite my kindness. Though lately, he has been trusting me more and more. I can tell he wants to trust me, he just isn't sure if trusting me is wise.

I tell the whole group the tale of how I got here, knowing that they need to know. Gandalf could have helped, if only he were still alive. I finish my tale, and silence ensues. I take a deep breath and then begin once more, telling the rest.

"All right, you deserve the truth, all of it. When I came here, I had a dream. One of our companions was dying, and I was defending him. But I wasn't me; it was someone who looked like me. I was rescued from that dream by a lady in white, who I recently discovered is Galadriel. Not long after, I had another dream, and spoke to the person who looked like me in the other dream and Galadriel. I was brought here from my world because I didn't grow up hearing all the tales and stories, I didn't grow up fearing Sauron or anyone here for that matter. I was brought here to avenge Reavardian as her reincarnate. Lately, I've been able to understand elvish, and when I fought the cave troll, I didn't fight it. Reavardian took over somehow, and she did that again, this time calling on magic. So there you go. That's the basics of what's happened. I was just walking down the hall, I saw the orc about to kill Frodo, Reavardian took over and I saved him." Merry and Pippin listen intently, and then Boromir laughs.

"You lot don't actually believe her, do you?" The looks that comment earn him from the rest of the group silence him, and I can't help but smile a bit at the knowledge that they believe me. Boromir looks away, shame faced.

"I have heard tales of an ancient warrior, a guardian of the Tower of Sorcery by the name of Reavardian. She fell defending the tower, buying the mages time to escape by striking down every foe that came her way, until Sauron himself opposed her. She fought valiantly, but she was no match for his sheer power. It is said that as he struck the killing blow, the last of the mages escaped. She became a legend, then a name without a face, and eventually, she was forgotten. Wiped from the history books, she is remembered by precious few. She was an elven mage, who started out as an orphan. She learned swordplay and archery first; it was only much later that she learned magic. She never became a mage because she did not want to be locked away in the tower for years while reading old tomes and spell books. So the mages agreed that she could be a Guardian and roam the forest, returning daily to defending the mages as they taught her. And that is the tale of Reavardian. I remember my grandfather telling me that tale when I was a boy." All eyes rest on Aragorn as he speaks, and I feel everything click into place. Now that I know the tale, it all makes sense. Reavardian was a legendary warrior; of course she would want revenge.

I look outside, the sun has set and the sky is dark, but there's a purple glow on the horizon. I stare out at it, entranced by the thin line of purple that lingers still, clinging to life amidst the dark night sky. It reminds me of us, our quest, a single strand of light and hope amidst all this darkness. We must leave this place soon, and press on towards the source of the evil. The beginning and end of the pure evil that is the wicked and powerful ring, Mordor.

You could take the ring, take it somewhere safe… Then use the rings power and rule. They would never expect it, you could succeed. You could be a god. The voice in my head that speaks is not mine. The power of the ring, the promises of ultimate and controlling power, an unstoppable force that none could take away. These thoughts are not mine. No, it must be the ring. The ring, yes. I want to destroy the ring, right? Yes, I am helping Frodo take the ring to Mordor to destroy it. A hint of doubt lingers in my mind, despite my efforts to banish such treacherous thoughts.

"Rest everyone; we leave at dawn to continue on our way to Mordor." Aragorn says. He is our leader now it seems. Ever since Gandalf… died, we have all looked to him for guidance. I guess that's just the way of things. When we do not know which way to go, and we have no one to guide us, we look to someone stronger than us for guidance.

Everyone returns to their rooms, all the Hobbits staying together to help protect each other. I won't be able to sleep, not after the events of today. My eyes close and within seconds I enter the world of dreams.

I stand on the edge of a cliff once more, balancing upon the prepuce, trying not to fall. I take a step back when suddenly; I'm standing on a pillar of stone. I stand alone, tall and unmoving, but frightened. A thin but long path appears before me, about a foot across. A voice on the wind whispers quietly, the words soft and smoothly spoken, drifting on the wind so that each syllable is individual, but flows together like a song.

"The way is long and hard, stray but an inch and you shall fall, and if you should fall, then all will be lost, and the world will be plunged into an eternal darkness. Balance is everything, until the wind picks up. Go fast, go straight, and don't look back." I glance back and see a huge black cloud moving towards me, and moving fast. I race along the narrow path, not pausing or stopping. I hear thunder rumbling all around me, and run faster. Wind begins to tug at me, threatening to snatch me from the path.

"It's not until you fall that you learn you can fly." Whispers the voice of an old woman. This voice is ancient and powerful, unlike that of the young thing I heard before. The wind continues to grow stronger, and I know I won't be able to run much further. I stop and look behind me. The massive black cloud extends on both sides further than I can see.

This is a dream, I think to myself. I feel the salty spray of the ocean cashing into the path far below me, and watch as lightning strikes within the inky black cloud. I start to question the reality of this dream. Is this a dream? What if I don't wake up? I look down. It's a long fall with pointed rocks looming far below me. I take a deep breath, the words of the old woman resonating in my mind. The wind screams in my ears, and thunder roars deafeningly. All my fears vanish in an instant, evanescent to the point that I question the reality of them. I jump.

My eyes open and I take a breath. I roll onto my side and look out the window. The horizon is burning orange and the sky has turned varying shades of purple and blue. Dawn approaches, I had best prepare for the day. I'm keeping my magic, having decided that it might come in handy later, though I'm still not thrilled with the whole, Reavardian thing. Despite that, I fear that there is little I can do about that at the moment.

I sit up, my dream fresh in my mind, and its meaning isn't quite clear. Perhaps it will make sense later. Who knows, perhaps it was just a dream and it doesn't mean anything, though I suspect otherwise.

I get up and change into my armour, brushing my hair before putting it into a tight but, keeping it out of my face. I slip my sword belt around my waist and gather my things. The sun has crept over the horizon, casting shadows on the world and basking everything in a cool morning glow, bathing the world in colors more vivid than any artists paints could be. The world is ablaze everywhere the light hits, and I can't help but be in awe of the glorious sight before me.

A knock at the door draws me from my reverie. I open the door, only to see the elven lass from before. I grab my gear and she leads me the first room we entered here. My other companions are already there, and are talking amongst themselves. They each hold an item they hadn't had before, except for Gimli, who seems to be holding… hair? I'll ask him later, Galadriel is waiting for me off to the side. I walk over to her, bowing slightly.

"Is there something you wish of me?" I ask her. She motions for me to stand and I do so. She hands me and object, and I look at it closely. It's a small figurine of a majestic silver dragon that sits with its tail wrapped around its claws and its head held high. It's about 4 inches tall and 3 inches wide, made of some strange metal I've never seen before.

"This figurine will house Reavardian's spirit so that she cannot take over you. When Reavardian lies within, the dragon will become sentient and able to move on its own and will grow a bit, along with being able to speak to you telepathically. The statue is nearly impossible to break, but if it does break, Reavardian will return to you, as you are her host. Also, if you need to hide her, she can shrink back down for a time." Galadriel explains.

As if on command, the statue's tail uncurls and it stands, growing until its body is about the size of a house cat. It has tiny horns and intelligent gold eyes. Silver scales plate its entire body and little spikes protrude from its back at intervals. She blinks and yawns, unfurling her wings.

Ah, this is much better than being stuck in your mind. Now I can move all by myself. The names Reavardian, but you can call me Rea, all my friends did. I instantly recoil at the intrusion I feel, the thoughts placed in my mind. I feel more in control now, more focused and everything seems clearer. Rea's voice is snarky and fun loving, much like mine used to be, before I became serious.

Boring's more like it. You used to have fun and let loose. Now everything you do is restrained and focused. You should relax a little and not worry so much, and now I can actually help you. I am an ancient guardian after all. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. She sounds pleased, and rather self absorbed if I may say so myself.

I don't doubt that, but give me a minute to sort out my thoughts and thank Galadriel properly! I shoot back, still trying to figure everything out. Rea huffs impatiently.

"Thank you very much Galadriel, this means a lot to me and I deeply appreciate it." I say warmly and she nods. I bow once more and Rea climbs onto my left shoulder, sitting with her tail draped around my neck and falling over my right shoulder. I rejoin the group, receiving some odd looks.

"Lass, we heard and all, but most of us have never seen a dragon. Not very inconspicuous if you ask me." Gimli says, watching Rea closely.

"Depends on where you go. In some places, small dragons like that aren't even given second looks. They are companions often given to mages, so we should be ok as long as we use that cover story to explain her." Boromir adds, surprising us with his knowledge of other places that, until now, I doubted a bit.

Boromir speaks the truth. Those places are distant, but people who do not know better will accept the answer unquestioningly. But where we're going, I doubt it really matters what anyone thinks. Rea's inquisitive gold eyes scan Boromir thoughtfully. The other companions relax with the threat of standing out averted. I note the fact that Boromir was the one to say that I was ok and wouldn't stand out. He could have remained silent and not helped me.

The time has come to leave; we gather our things and set out, Frodo seeming a bit shaken but all in all ok. We get into small elvish boats and just like that we're off, leaving the safety and company of the elves behind. We float down the great river Anduin, talking quietly but happily amongst ourselves. My boat contains a talkative Gimli and Legolas, who has not said much and averts his gaze, staring out at the water and forest. The Sam, Merry and Pippin all sit together, talking merrily and laughing. Boromir, Frodo and Aragorn sit quietly in the third boat, not saying much.

"Why so quiet elf? Ye normally got a lot to say when we're talking about all yer woodsy stuff." Legolas glances up, and Rea gives me a few choice thoughts about him, making me stifle a laugh. Gimli turns to me.

"What's so funny?" He asks pointedly. I bite back my laughter once more; Rea yawns and sits contentedly on the prow of the boat, her eyes shifting lazily to me as she feigns innocence.

"Oh nothing." I say unconvincingly, holding back a smile. Gimli's eyes narrow. The hair he had earlier is pinned to his armour right over his heart, I eye it and he looks away, whistling a tune rather comically.

"No reason to be so broody Legolas." I say teasingly. I can't help but feel uplifted by the beauty around me. It's nice here, even better than back home.

"I'm not brooding." He says finally. He looks straight at me, sending a shiver down my spine. His face remains impassive, and my teasing smirk returns. Gimli observes us, noting the lengthy silence.

"You really are brooding elf, what's got yer sword bent?" My smile fades, Legolas sits quietly, and all the noise around us seems to fade. Is it really this silent, or are our minds deceiving us?

"Nothing." He says finally. I roll my eyes, and Gimli shakes his head, his wild red beard bouncing to and fro. I sigh and look ahead. My breath is snatched away by the sight that looms before us.

Two massive statues stand proudly on either side of the river, each three hundred feet tall. They are Gondorian kings of old, and loom proudly and majestically over the river, making me feel particularly small. Aragorn stares at them, seeming particularly entranced. He tells Frodo something and Frodo too stares up at them. The current carries us through the gap at the statues feet and we all sit silently staring up at the majestic statues of old.

And the end is reached for this chapter! Thank yall for reading this, it means a lot! Sorry it took me so long to update! I saw the Hobbit, it ROCKED! Highly recommend it. Although, it didn't follow the storyline set by the books. Still great though! -Goddess out