The Lord of the Rings: Shadows of Angmar

Chapter One: The Road to Rivendell

By: Lady Imladris

Somewhere Deep Within the Trollshaws

As they broke camp for the evening, Strider gently eased Frodo onto the ground, wrapping him in his cloak to protect him against the chill of the wind that seemed to snake its way through the forest without mercy. What little sunlight penetrated the dense foliage fell in scattered patches, creating an eerie sort of ambiance that gave the company little reassurance as to the protection that the dense woodland was supposed to provide.

"He's getting worse." Pippin's concerned voice registered in Strider's ear as he glanced about the perimeter of their encampment in order to ensure they had no been followed. The instance at Amon Sul had left them battered and vulnerable. With Frodo injured by the blade of one of the wraiths, it was unclear how long his body would be able to combat the poison. They were still two days from Rivendell, and elvish medicine was likely to be the only hope that the halfling had left. How he was going to move all four of the hobbits to Rivendell while being pursued by such creatures of the night was a challenge. Considering all of the dangers that the Trollshaws already posed in addition to their plight, the task seemed nearly impossible.

"What's happening to him?" asked Merry as Frodo began making strange, strangled noises. His unfocused blue eyes seemed to be searching for something that the others could not see.

"He is passing into the shadow realm." Strider explained, keeping the tangle of emotions he felt out of his voice due to pure exhaustion rather than an attempt to allay the fears of his companions. "Soon he will become one of them."

"But we're still three days from Rivendell!" Sam cried out, suddenly filled with panic. "He'll never make it!" Merry and Pippin exchanged horrified glances as this realization dawned on them. Whatever their concerns had been, the possibility of their friend dying before reaching Rivendell had clearly not occurred to them before now.

"Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?" Stider asked, remembering Sam's previous employment as a gardner.

"Athelas?" Sam said, the word coming out foreign sounding and rough on his tongue.

"Kingsfoil." Strider clarified, switching to the Common Tongue.

"Aye, Kingsfoil." It was clear on Sam's face that while he understood what Strider was referring to, he didn't know why. "It's a weed." He said sounding skeptical.

"It may help slow the poison." Strider said. Sam nodded, not needing to be told anything more as he turned and began scouring the ground for the small green plant.

Leaving Merry and Pippin in charge of Frodo's condition while they searched for the plant wasn't ideal but there was little choice in the matter. Strider knew that Sam would stay near to the campground in his search, and so he had to scout the area slightly further away from camp if he hoped to find the plant they were in search of. The chill wind tore through the small tears and areas of disrepair in his clothing, sending a shiver down his spine and he brushed various leaves and foliage out of the way. His fingertips, unprotected as they were with his fingerless gloves, were beginning to ache from the cold. Finally, he found the familiar shape of the leaf he had been searching for. A relieved sigh briefly escaped his lips as he knelt and removed the small blade he kept in his right boot. Gingerly placing the blade down at the end of the stalk, he prepared to make a neat incision to cut the plant free.

"What's this?" Strider's body stiffened, all of his muscles contracting instinctively as he felt the cool shock of bare steel against the skin of his throat. From his position kneeling on the ground, all he could see of his attacker was the shadow being cast over him from behind. The voice was deep, yet sophisticated, and spoke in the Common Tongue, making it difficult to discern what manner of man or beast stood behind him. "A Ranger caught off of his guard?" The blade stayed expertly held across his throat as Strider watched his captor circle around to stand in front of him slowly. He could hear the fall of his footsteps, but still see nothing.

"What do you want?" Strider asked, his voice dripping with unspoken challenge and rage.

"Uuma dela Heruamin." His captor said moving to stand in front of Strider and using the edge of his sword to force the man to look up at him. Strider's heart leaped as he heard the familiar elvish phrase, and he glanced up to see the smug smirk fixed firmly in place on the face of a dear friend. "Manke naa lle autien?"

"Cormin lindua ele lle, Abeliam." Strider said happily as the tall elven warrior broke into a hearty laugh and sheathed his sword to clasp Strider in a warm embrace.

"It is good to see your face, my old friend." Abeliam said releasing him. "I wish there were a happier circumstance under which we could be reunited."

"We have been searching for you nearly a fortnight, tracking you from the Lone Lands." Said another voice and Strider turned to see the rest of the familiar faces that made up Abeliam's company come out from their cover within the trees. "There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, we do not know."

"How did you know where to look for us? Or to look for us at all?" Strider asked in confusion.

"Our company was traveling with Elladan and Elrohir at their encampment in the Trollshaws close to the Ford on business from Lord Elrond. LiNeerthrae was given a vision of your plight at Amon Sul, and that you had made for the woods here." Abeliam explained as he indicated one of the only two female elves among his company.

Back at the encampment, Sam had returned to Frodo's side and was attempting to boil some of the Kingsfoil into a tea, uncertain as to how else he should administer it to his friend. Strider was still gone in the woods, and Sam had very little idea as to what he should do in his absence. A sudden streak of fear ran down his spine. What if Strider left them there? Or even worse, what if something or someone prevented his return?

"Look!" Merry's sudden exclamation caught Sam's attention and he glanced up in time to see Pippin scramble to his feet.

A brief moment of panic enveloped Sam as he saw the group of cloaked riders approach and dismount at the edge of the clearing where they had camped. The noonday sun was cascading through the trees, casting a shower of golden light upon their hoods, and for some inexplicable reason Sam felt his heart become completely at peace. Seeing Strider dismount from one of the horses, Sam distantly heard Merry call out to their friend although the words were lost to him. He was transfixed, as if under some enchantment, as he saw one of the figures come quickly toward him, lowering their hood. It was a woman much to Sam's surprise. Her long dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in thick curls and the folds of her gown swayed as if she were floating instead of walking. She knelt down beside Frodo, murmuring in Elvish as she checked over his body.

"Who is she?" asked Pippin as he stared beside Sam in disbelief. The maiden distractedly brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, and Sam's heart felt like it could fly as he felt the surge of excitement building in his chest.

"She's an elf!" He said in a hushed tone, the breath barely escaping his lips. Sam could hardly believe his luck. He'd wondered his whole life about Elves, and now there was one kneeling right in front of him! She was even more beautiful than he had imagined. Looking up at the group, Sam saw Strider move quickly to kneel beside the maiden, tearing some of the athelas plant with his teeth and chewing it before pressing it against Frodo's wound. At the contact, Frodo emitted a gut wrenching wail that sent a shiver down his spine.

"LiNeerthrae, what can you tell of his condition?" Strider asked.

"He is passing into the Shadow Realm." LiNeerthrae responded, her face filled with great concern. "We must get him to Rivendell. Our only hope is to get him to Lord Elrond."

"Michalas." Upon hearing Abeliam's commanding tone, another of the tall Elves came forward. His hair was also long, but the same dark brown as the maiden's and his robes matched hers both in style and in color. Sam guessed that they must be kin, to look so much alike. The elf called Michalas led one of the beautiful horses forward, and Strider lifted Frodo off of the ground to mount him in the front of the saddle. Abeliam then turned to Strider. "Michalas and LiNeerthrae will ride ahead with Frodo, while the rest of us guide you to Rivendell."

"The road is too dangerous." Strider said firmly, his eyes straying to LiNeerthrae. It was clear from his expression that he did not find it appropriate that a woman should be putting herself at such risk.

"I am a faster rider than Bainith." LiNeerthrae reminded him. "Frodo will need a healer as well as protection if we are set upon. Michalas and I are the clearest choice."

"LiNeerthrae." Abeliam said, his eyes softening slightly as she mounted her horse behind Frodo and Michalas turned to mount his own. "Ride hard, and don't look back." Without a word, LiNeerthrae gave her companions a meaningful glance and spurred her horse out of the clearing, with Michalas following close behind.

"Break camp quickly." Abeliam commanded, turning back to his own horse. "We follow them close behind."

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded in furstration. "Those wraiths are still out there!" He yelled angrily.

"Do not trouble yourself, dear Hobbit." Said Abeliam, turning briefly to acknowledge him. "There are few whose hands in which he would be under better care."

"Come on, Sam." Strider said placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We don't have much time."

The ride as they rode toward Rivendell was mostly silent as Sam sat in the front of the saddle before a tall elf who was named Bainith. Sam had a million questions he wanted to ask, but his mind was preoccupied with worry over whether or not Frodo had reached Rivendell alive. He hardly even had the presence of mind to survey his surroundings, as he sat morosely in the saddle.

"Master Samwise, I think there is something you would like to see." Bainith said in a gentle tone as he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked up at his companion in question, but Bainith merely gestured toward the front of the caravan with his head. "Welcome to Rivendell, Master Samwise." Bainith said with a smile.

All right so the scene is set! I know that this isn't too terrible original yet but bear with me because from here on out, the storyline will become more apparent.

Any questions? Concerns? Criticisms? Complaints? Compliments? Feel free to leave a review!

Also, I'm sorry if my chapters are insanely long. They don't seem to be to me, but then I look at my page count in my word processor and realize that maybe they are...