Idrial's Quest

By Lady Annalease

Hello friends,

I am Lady Annalease, but all of my friends call me Keag.

Okay, this story is based on the PS2 game LOTR: The Third Age. Most of the situations and dialogue is taken from the game set on hard, which I'm playing while I'm writing this. You may not like how I portray the characters, which is fine, but don't flame me for it.

Also, I have tried to correct the spelling and grammar errors to the best of my computer's ability and mine. I've never been a good speller and my computer is less then competent.

Final note: Elvish translations are at the bottom of the page; my Elvish is correct to the best of my knowledge, though my grammar I cannot vouch for - I'm not so good at that even in English. Please don't flame me for incorrect use, I welcome constructive criticism, of course, but I have tried my hardest. If it really bothers you that much, then perhaps my stories are not your taste. Sorry to end on that depressing note.

Please read and review, especially if you want more chapters sooner.

Your friend always,

Keag

P.S. I had to change Aranel's name to Aronel (which is how they should have spelt it) because it literally translates to princess in Sindarin and I just can't embarrass a poor ellon like that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Middle Earth or any of Tolkien's words of characters. Everything recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and/or EA Games and their writers; anything new belongs to ME! I have no permission to use non-original characters and am receiving no money for this story. This story was written for enjoyment only.

Prologue:

The first time I saw him, he was standing in the road, blade raised to guard, the Úlairë standing before him, their own blades raised.

I watched in horror as he challenged them and struck. 'Fool!' my mind cried. 'Run! You cannot fight them.'

Not that my plan would have worked any better than his own, his mount had fled, theirs had not, and even if the poor beast had not run, it had taken the legendary swiftness of Glorfindel's Asfaloth to outrun the Black Riders before; no beast of Men was any match, let alone a single, tired warrior on foot.

This was exactly what I had feared when I had questioned my Lady's orders as to whether it was a good idea to let the Man leave our company so soon.

Galadriel had simply smiled enigmatically at me.

"We cannot keep him here any longer; if he wakes and finds himself in the Golden Wood it would likely push him further away. His destiny is in the hands of the Valar now. ...However, he does bear watching.

"Idrial, my dear, as you are worried for him, there is something you may do. Fetch your sword, a fleet-footed mount not your own and change into a scout's garb. There is a caravan heading to Mithlond, I wish you to meet up with it and guard it, it will be in Eregion, close to Imladris, by the time you arrive. Do what you must to prepare for an extended leave of absence, but leave the city by sunset and do not rest for but three hours a night, otherwise you shall arrive too late."

She took my hand and led me aside. "Worry not, I know scouting is not something that you thought you should have to do again, you shall not be staying with the caravan long - give them your mount and go on foot. The scouting is needed only as a cover, though I do expect the caravan to survive while it is within your power to make sure of such.

"You shall find him.

"Do not reveal too much too soon, or you shall push him away. As far as he should know, you are a caravan guard who appeared very fortuitously."

I bowed to her.

"Be fleet now, child, and do not let anything delay you. He must survive! May the Valar be with you, Idrial."

By this time, the Úlairë had knocked the Man to the ground and, as if moving through treacle, I saw their fell blades fall toward his body - he would not survive this time, I knew it. Before I truly realised what I was about, I lunged forward and blocked the strikes of the Nazgûls' blades with my own.

They looked at me and hissed in anger, their blades coming up again. "This is not your affair, she-Elf," one hissed at me.

Fear swum in my belly and I questioned my sanity - who was I to oppose an Úlairë? I was not Elrond Half-Elven, nor Glorfindel the Balrog Slayer, and I was most certainly not my Lady of Light.

Fear paralysed me. I may have been more than the mere Elven scout I was dressed as, but that did not mean I was anyone who could stand up to the Black Riders.

The prone form of the Man wheezed in pain.

I had stopped the Úlairë from delivering the killing blow, but they had severely wounded him - without treatment, and soon, nothing I had done this day would matter for him. He must survive!

Anger welled in my breast and overcame my fear. I glared icily at the Nazgûl, daring them to hurt him further and raised my sword.

"Return to the shadows, Slaves of Sauron!" I cried.

Power rose up in me and, though I knew it was usually beyond my grasp, I called to the great Water Stallion. He leapt forth and crashed into the Riders, they screamed and fled. I had no more time to worry about them, nor about how I was able to handle magics usually so far beyond my grasp.

I fell to my knees beside the Man and realised he had stoped breathing. Tears flowed from me as I clutched at him - I did not know if I had it in me to save him. Had I failed so soon in my venture?

I summoned what magic I could and prayed: "What grace has been given to me, let it pass to him, let him be spared." Once more, magic beyond me came to my grasp. "To you I give this gift of my people," I whispered as magic flowed from my hands into his body.

His eyes flickered open and he breathed deeply.

I dashed the tears from my cheeks before he could see them.

"I live because of your bravery, my lady," he spoke softly, gazing at me with open respect and gratitude. "What favour might I grant you?"

I could not bare that gaze for long, especially knowing I must now lie to him. I tried to speak, but my words caught in my throat and I had the sudden compulsion to touch his cheek, his hair, his chest to make sure he was truly alive - utter foolishness!

I surged to my feet and grabbed my blade; he followed me to his feet.

"There is no time, hurry, we must find you equipment and heal your other wounds," I spoke.

Translations (in Sindarin, unless otherwise specified):

Ellon - male Elf

Úlairë - nazgûl, Black Rider

Mithlond - the Grey Havens

Imladris - Rivendell