Author's Note: Hello everyone! This isn't so much of a new chapter as much as it is a rewrite of the original Chapter One for this fanfic. I decided to split the original chapter into two chapters because I felt that the original one was too short and needed more meat to it. I also wanted it to make more sense.

That's really it for my author's note. I will be posting the next chapter some time this week, so be sure to keep an eye out for that. Thanks to linalove, vrsk, lozzy161, and my two Guest reviewers for reviewing! I hope that you guys are still checking in on this story and that I haven't completely ruined it (T-T) I am definitely a lot more happy with how this came out.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

Chapter One

Today had begun like any other day. A mild breeze had blown through, giving the first hint that autumn was on its way, if the slow change of the coloration of the leaves weren't already an indication of the change of seasons. It brought with it an earthy smell, carried through a small crack in the window of a small Crawley cottage. The smell brought a smile to the girl sitting inside at her bed. Not only had it brought the promise of autumn, but there was the promise of a storm.

And she loved nothing more than the smell of rain and the comfort of renewal that it brought.

Having finished the task of folding her laundry, she quickly put it away and headed downstairs. On her was to the kitchen, she deposited the hamper in the laundry room for the next load of laundry. The smell of pancakes and bacon wafted in the air, making her stomach growl. She smiled as the kitchen came into view, her mother working vigorously to make breakfast. She walked up to the middle-aged woman and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, Mum," the girl greeted.

The woman smiled. "Good morning, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth set herself to the task of making tea. "I'm surprised that you're cooking breakfast this morning. I could have done it."

Her mother shook her head. "I need the distraction, love. Your father is on a conference call."

Elizabeth nodded, understanding. Her father worked from home as a writer. The success of his latest novel brought conference call after conference call. She frowned. She would have thought that today, of all days, he would have put this one off.

Her mother sighed, bringing her from her thoughts. She had set about putting the last of the pancakes on the griddle and looked to her daughter. "Would you be so kind as to make a plate for your father and take it to him?"

Elizabeth gave her a sad smile and nodded. She grabbed a tray so she could carry everything easily, and then made a plate with three pancakes and three slices of bacon. She poured him a glass of orange juice and place it on the tray. In one fluid motion, she grabbed the tray and a napkin, and carried it to her father's study.

The study was next to her bedroom. Balancing the tray with one hand, she politely knocked on the door. As she waited to hear a response from within, her eyes wandered until they came across their family portrait. She smiled at the memory.

Elizabeth couldn't have been more than nine or ten years old when the photo was taken. Her dark brown curls had been pulled back in a half-ponytail, the rest of them left to bounce just off her shoulders. Her mother had styled her pin-straight, blonde hair much like hers, and her father combed his similar blonde locks to be nice and neat. The photographer had her sit on a cushioned stool in front of her mother and father, who were sitting on a bench. They had both placed a hand on each of her shoulders. They were sat in front of a backdrop of a forest path, smiles on their faces—their chocolate and green eyes beaming with pride, while her strikingly blue eyes were full of pure, unadulterated happiness. Looking at the photo now, ten years later, Elizabeth felt there was another emotion underlying that smile of hers that was permanently ingrained on that photo paper, but she couldn't name it. It threw her for a loop that she had only noticed it now.

Odd, she thought.

Before she could think about it any further, a voice broke through her musings. "Come in," it said.

Elizabeth did as she was bid, slowly opening the door so as to not make any unnecessary noise. She didn't want to completely disturb her father's call. She walked in and gently set the tray on the desk next to where he was working. The familiar glow of an LCD screen was enough to tell her that there were others present. The tiny clink of silverware brought her father's attention to her.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said warmly.

Elizabeth smiled. "Good morning, Dad. Mum asked me to bring this to you." Realizing she was being watched, she gave a small smile and wave to her father's publisher, who greeted her in the same manner.

"Thank you, my dear," her father replied. "Do you think you could bring me a cup of tea as well?"

She nodded. "Of course!"

Just as she was about to venture back to the kitchen, there was a small knock on the door. Elizabeth looked up and saw that her mother had already had the same idea. "No need," she interjected. "Already done, dear."

Her father smiled as his wife brought him his tea, just the way that he liked it. "Thank you, my love."

Her mother smiled. "You're very welcome." She leaned down and gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Elizabeth smiled as she watched them, happiness and warmth filling her. I wonder if I will ever find something like that.

A crackling cough came through the speaker system, breaking the moment. All three of them looked at the screen as his publisher shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Elizabeth fought back a giggle.

"Um, Mr. Liddell?" he had begun. "May we, uh…may we continue?"

Mr. Liddell nodded, chuckling. "My apologies, James. Yes, let's continue."

This was a polite way of dismissing his wife and daughter from the study to continue with his conference call. Both mother and daughter took the hint and left, quietly shutting the door behind them. The two looked at each other and let loose the giggles they were fighting.

"Let's go down to breakfast. There's no need to further disrupt your father," Mrs. Liddell suggested.

"Yes, let's."

Elizabeth started to walk with her when she took another glimpse at the family portrait. Her smile got bigger as love seemed to emanate from it. She continued to walk away and down the stairs so she could enjoy some pancakes.

But it wasn't long before that unknown emotion that graced her young eyes came to the forefront of her mind. She still couldn't place it, and it was beginning to bother her.

What was it? Longing? Sadness?

Elizabeth couldn't figure it out, but it was forgotten at the taste of maple syrup, pancakes, and bacon

Elizabeth was breathing heavily. She could feel the sweat dripping on her forehead and down her back. Her fencing instructor was working her harder than he had before, and she suspected that it was because she missed her lesson last week.

I knew I was going to regret it, she thought.

She didn't know what possessed her to cancel their lesson last week. She had felt bad about it, but she couldn't bring herself to even leave her room.

She took a deep breath, trying to even her breathing as she heard him speak. "You've got to be faster, Elizabeth. Go again."

Elizabeth nodded, taking another deep breath and steeling herself. She sized up her opponent in front of her, a fellow student. She noticed that he was shaking, the adrenaline leaving his system. He was getting tired, overexerting himself to try and keep up with her. She knew he was fast, but even he had his limits. Behind her mask, she smiled.

Perhaps I can use that to my advantage.

Seconds later, she heard the whistle. She watched as George, the student in front of her, lunged towards her, his blade aimed at her. Elizabeth parried his attack as she spun away. This threw him off guard, and he scrambled to regain himself. But it was too late for him. By the time he had turned around to slash at her, she had already prodded him with the end of her fencing blade.

The spar was over in a heartbeat.

The whistle blew long and hard, signaling for them to respectfully end and bow to each other. Once they removed their masks, both students shook hands, smiling and breathing hard.

"That was some fancy footwork, Elizabeth," George commented.

Thankfully her cheeks were already red from the exercise and no one could tell that she was blushing. "Thanks. I could say the same to you."

George shrugged, his curly red locks dripping with sweat. "Speed is no match for strength and tact."

"But it is better to have all three," stated the instructor.

The two of them looked at their instructor, who was beaming. He looked between the two of them, pride swelling within him. "Putting all three together would make one deadly. Do that, and then you can consider yourselves masters."

Both nodded in understanding.

The instructor was quite please with himself. He bowed to them and then said, "Alright, you two. Go get cleaned up. Practice is over."

George left with no hesitation, relieved that he was done for the day. Elizabeth smiled, watching her partner and friend run off. She made to head to the women's locker room when she was stopped.

"Elizabeth," her instructor began. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. She really wanted to take a shower and get cleaned up but sensed that this was important. She walked closer to him and noticed concern dripping in his grey eyes.

Oh boy, was her only thought.

"Is there something the matter, Mr. Osborn?" she inquired.

He gave her a look. "I'll say," he answered. "My star pupil called to cancel their lesson last week."

She looked back towards where George had disappeared. "George cancelled as well?"

"No, Elizabeth. I'm talking about you."

Her eyes widened at this statement. She had never imagined being told that, especially from him. It was an honor to hear. George was far superior in her eyes having the strength and speed to back up his skill with a blade. Elizabeth looked at him, thinking that he was mistaken. She was just lucky.

"But George—"

"George no doubt has what it takes to be a master at fencing, and may rake in even more medals at the Championships, but he isn't half as skilled as you and has to work twice as hard to make up for lost time."

Elizabeth was shocked at the compliment, but his point wasn't lost on her. "It's like I said when I called. I wasn't feeling well."

Mr. Osborn gave her a look as if saying he didn't believe her. "Elizabeth," he began. "I talked to your parents."

Her eyes widened. He called them?

"I had run into them while I was in the city. They had said you wouldn't leave your room for anything." He paused and then continued. "I would have chalked it off as you really being sick, except you've called and cancelled your lesson the same day you do every year."

She looked down at her feet, ashamed that she had been caught in that lie.

He sat down and pat the bench next to him, a silent invitation to join him. She did so, keeping a firm grip on her mask. He noticed her hanging onto it like a lifeline.

"What's the matter?" came the question. "Why the same day every year?"

There couldn't be a coincidence. Every year for the past ten years, Elizabeth would call him to cancel their lesson, just before the beginning of autumn—always on September 20th. There had to be a reason.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't realize that she was holding. "To be honest," she began, opening her eyes and turning to her instructor. "I don't really know."

His brow raised at her answer, waiting patiently for her to continue.

She did just that. "For some reason, when that day comes, I become…afraid. I always feel like I'm being watched."

Mr. Osborn was confused. "Being watched? In what way?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm not sure how to explain it. I know it sounds like I'm being paranoid, but it always feels as if someone is watching and waiting."

"For what?"

"I don't know. I just know that I get that feeling every time that I—"

She stopped before she said too much. She wasn't sure that she should tell anyone about it, thinking that maybe they'd think her mad.

But Mr. Osborn wasn't relenting. "Every time you what, Elizabeth?" She was being mysterious and evasive, and it worried him.

She gulped at the determination in his voice. "Every time I have the same nightmare."

To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. The way her face seemed to pale at the mention of this nightmare worried him even more. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his expression urging her to continue.

"I'm in a forest, surrounded by fog. It's always chilly, and the leaves are always just turning color. I'm walking with others and everything is fine." The words and images just seemed to flow from her without hesitating.

"But?"

"There's this menacing presence and then I hear screeching and horns sounding. There's a darkness descending, and I always find myself running away. As I'm running, this horrifying creature cuts me off. Just as he is about to attack me, there's this white light that engulfs me." She pauses, trying to her emotions in check. "I always wake up screaming and sweating."

Mr. Olsen listened as she finished describing her dream, his brow knotted in worry and concern. "Do you know who the people with you are?" he questioned.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, I don't. I never see their faces. I just know that they are there."

He regarded what she said with careful consideration. Are her parents hiding something? he wondered. They always seemed like nice people.

"It's just a dream, I know," she said, interrupting his thoughts. "But it always leaves me so unnerved that I can't bring myself to do anything. I'm sorry."

He looked back at her, giving her a reassuring smile. "There's no need to apologize. I'm glad that you felt comfortable enough to open up to me, even if I sort of pried it out of you."

Elizabeth gave him a small smile, some of the color coming back to her face. "It's okay. You were worried."

He nodded, but couldn't help but ask her, "Everything is going alright at home, right?"

The question threw her off. "Yes, everything is fine."

He was reassured by her certainty. "Good."

She was confused, but one look at his relieved expression was enough to tell her what he had been trying to get at. Her eyes narrowed. "My parents are not abusing me, physically or otherwise."

If looks could kill. "I don't think that they are, lass," he clarified.

"But you are implying that it crossed your mind."

Mr. Osborn said no more, not wanting to upset her anymore.

Elizabeth sighed. She got up from her spot on the bench and made her way to the locker room. She was still drenched in sweat, and the knowledge was enough to make her cranky. "I need a shower. Same time next week?"

Her instructor let out a breath that he was holding. "Yeah. Same time. Bring you're a game. I expect you to go even faster."

She waved at him before ducking in. She needed a shower, food, and a nap.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, throwing yet another piece of notebook paper into her trash bin. She was growing increasingly more frustrated as the minutes went by as she struggled to write a coherent sentence. The bigger the pile became, the harder she found it to stay focused.

Sure, she thought. I can help my dad come up with the perfect ideas for his stories, but I can't write one lousy entrance essay.

She moved away from her desk and plopped onto her bed. She stared at the ceiling as she questioned her decision to put off going to university. The deadline for applications was at least a month away, but she couldn't seem to finish it. The application was completed, and she had the necessary transcripts, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to write the entrance essay.

So much for becoming a writer.

Elizabeth sighed and looked around her room, trying to find some inspiration. Along one side of her room, opposite of her desk, she had some fairy lights strung up. By her closet and above her desk, various posters were hung up on the walls, some depicting fantasy scenes and others depicting famous paintings. On her desk were a couple of statuettes of elves, knights, and a dragon.

At the sound of her growling stomach, she got up and headed down to the kitchen for a snack. She was about to open the pantry when she heard her mother's exasperated sigh.

"Mum? What's the matter?" Her hunger was forgotten.

Mr. Liddell looked at her daughter, giving her a small smile. "Your father got caught into an emergency conference call."

Elizabeth's mouth formed an "o" in understanding. She looked up and wondered what was so important. Surely, they could have rescheduled this one for another day. Did they not realize how important today was?

Seeing her mother's tired look, she decided to make it up to her. She pulled her phone out and called for a cab. Mr. Liddell gave her a puzzled look. "What do you need a cab for?"

"I'm going to head into London. What do you want me to get you?'

Her mother was about to object when she realized what she was doing. "You know what I like."

Elizabeth gave her a knowing smile and then rushed upstairs to change into something more appropriate for going out. Fifteen minutes later, she was grabbing her coat and climbing into the cab.

"To Gatwick Station, please," she directed the driver.

The cabbie nodded and drove off in the direction of the train station. As they got closer, she couldn't help the sense of foreboding that came over her.

She was glad that she made the decision to go to the city. Not only was she able to get something to cheer her mother up, but she was also able to secure a gift for both her parents for their anniversary today. Elizabeth had also managed to get a reservation for them at their favorite restaurant with the money that she had saved up.

I just hope Dad didn't get pulled into another conference call. He needs to enjoy the day with mum.

She just hoped that she was able to make it home in time. Thick, dark clouds were rolling in over the city. They were so dark, it looked as though it were the night sky, devoid of starlight. Elizabeth loved the rain, but there was something different about those clouds. It unnerved her.

And for a fleeting moment, she felt as though she was being watched.

Elizabeth looked around her, pulling her coat closer to her. She started to hail a cab when she heard her phone go off. She looked at the caller id. It was George.

He must have just gotten out of class.

She answered it with a smile. "Hey, George!"

"Thank goodness," she heard him say. He sounded relieved.

Her brow furrowed. "Is everything ok?"

"Elizabeth, where are you right now?" George asked.

"I'm in London, about to head home. Why?"

"You need to head home."

She grew worried. "Why? George, what's going on?"

"There's smoke coming from Hawth Woods. Elizabeth, I think it's coming from your house!"

Elizabeth froze in place, ignoring the cab that had pulled up next to her. It drove off after another person rushed into it. She was too busy processing what he had told her to notice. Fear began to grip her.

"I called the fire department, and they're on their way."

She breathed a sigh of relief, the answer given to her unasked question. It did little to dispel what fear she did have.

"Okay. I'm on my way. Thank you, George."

She hung up and began hailing a cab once again. After about the third try, she was able to rush into one. "To Southwark Station, please," she directed with as much urgency as she could muster.

"Trains are delayed due to an emergency," came the driver's monotoned reply.

Bugger! she thought. That's the fastest way home!

"Then to Hawth Woods in Crawley," she said. "Please, hurry!"

The driver drove off without a word. As he did so, Elizabeth dialed her mother's number, trying to get a hold of her to make sure that both of her parents were out of harm's way. She still could shake off her feeling of fear.

No one responded.

Elizabeth tried again and again, worry growing by the second. When she was met with the answering machine for the fourth time, she dialed her father's number.

Someone pick up. Please!

This time she was met with success.

"Elizabeth?" She could hear his fear and relief.

"Dad? Are you both alright? George called me and told me about the fire, and I tried to call Mum, but there was no answer."

"Your mother is dead, Elizabeth."

Time seemed to slow exponentially. She felt her heart plummet, breathing suddenly becoming a chore. She can't be. She was fine before I left. How?

"What?" was all she could muster.

Elizabeth could hear crashing and crackling as her father tried to yell into the phone. "There's something in the house. I don't know what, but it started the fire and killed your mother."

She shook her head, realizing what that meant. She heard the same crashing sound again. He was still in the house!

"Dad?"

"Elizabeth, whatever you do, do not come to the house!"

"What? No!" Tears where threatening to fall when she heard his demand.

"Listen to me! You must stay away! They are looking for you! I don't know why, but they are."

Her eyes widened at what he said. Like a tightened vice grip, fear threatened to drown her. There was another crashing sound, followed by an all-too-familiar screeching sound.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth."

"Dad, no! Run! You must run!"

"I'm trapped, my dear. I love you and am proud of you."

The next sound that she heard was a roar. Then there was a gurgling sound, more crashing and then a thud. Finally, the connection died.

Elizabeth dropped her phone. The floodgates broke, tears streaming down her face. She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. Above her, she heard thunder, and saw a bright flash of lightning. It startled her beyond belief that it was so close. She couldn't stop the sobs then. They were uncontrollable. Eventually she remembered where she was. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Drive faster! Please!"

"Yes, miss," came the monotoned reply.

She heard the engine rev, but she ignored everything else. She looked down at the bags of gifts that would never be given to their intended recipients. The sound of her father's fear, and the familiar screeching sound, were the only things swimming in her thoughts. She could barely register the mumblings of the driver.

"I'm sorry," she managed to finally get out. "What did you say?"

"It's a shame," he droned on. "Losing one's family like that. Now you're all alone."

His words cut her deeply, and all she wanted to do was cry again. But there was something that cause her to stop, and suddenly she found herself alert. Looking at her surroundings, she realized that they had missed the turn that would have taken her home.

"Sir, you missed the turn," she told him.

"Did we? Apologies, miss." He kept driving, mumbling under his breath again.

Something was wrong. He continued to drive and mumble, but never once looked at her. Elizabeth looked at the man finally for the first time. His shaggy, white hair was sticking out in every direction as if he hadn't combed it in days. His face was very gaunt, with sunken in cheeks, pale skin, and dark circles under his eyes. Eyes, she noticed, that were clouded.

Her own eyes widened. What the hell?!

As if she had startled him with her own thoughts, his eyes made contact with hers in the rearview mirror. At the same, a flash of lightning struck, making his face look horrifying. She screamed.

Just then, she heard a clicking sound, the tell-tale sign that he had locked all of the doors. Against her better judgment, she began pulling at the door handle, trying to escape. "Let me go!" she shouted. "Please, let me out!"

As she pulled and pulled, his earlier statement rang in her ears as if he were saying it again.

Losing one's family like that. Now you're all alone.

Her eyes widened at her epiphany. He's part of it all!

Elizabeth looked away from what she was doing, screaming at the sight in front of her.

The driver's face had now become contorted into a horrifying expression. As he drove them over a bridge, he let go of the wheel and lunged at her. She dodged him by quickly unclipping her seatbelt and shifting over to the other side. She continued to do this at his every attempt to grab her, which was hard to do considering the limited availability of the back seat.

Elizabeth felt the car swerve and held onto the driver's seat. As the cab hit the curb, she heard as resounding crack, and the driver went limp, his foot landing on the gas pedal. The cab went faster and drove through the bridge wall, diving straight into the Thames. She screamed as the car hit the surface of the water and began sinking.

Tears were streaming down her face as she tried to remain calm and think fast. She reached into the front seat, unlocking the doors. She pulled at the door handle and then tried to push the door open, but to no avail.

How did that not work? she wondered.

The cab was sinking further and further down into the river, and water inside it was rising.

No!

Elizabeth tried to think of another solution in the limited time that she had. She tried to roll down one of the windows but found it very difficult to do so.

Is it because of the water's pressure around the cab?

Water was coming in faster, and she was running out of options. She looked around to see if she could find anything that would be the answer to her prayers. Then she remembered.

Dad's gift!

She took a deep breath and reached for the bag, which was now submerged. She pulled it back into the air with her and pulled out the chisel that she had bought for her father. Elizabeth then took to beating it against the glass of the window. She used all the strength that she could muster.

Come on! Break!

After a few more hits, the window cracked. Hope filling her, and her adrenaline pumping, she shoved the sharper end of the chisel into the crack, causing a few more cracks to form. They got bigger and bigger as the water almost reached over her head. Taking a deep breath, she hit it against the fragile glass, causing to finally break. Water rushed in as the glass fell away.

Yes!

Elizabeth carefully swam through the window and up towards the surface. She swam as fast as she could, but her lungs were starting to burn.

No! You can make it! Don't give in!

Elizabeth's limbs were aching, but she pushed herself to keep going. She kicked as hard as she could, her lungs begging her to take a breath. She was beginning to get lightheaded.

No!

With what strength she had left, she kicked hard, propelling herself further up. But it wasn't enough. Her vision was blurring, and she couldn't hold it in any longer.

She succumbed.

As the darkness began to take her, she saw a bright flash of white light and the face of someone long forgotten. A face she had seen in a dream once—a man with kind eyes and wavy brown hair like her.

Who are you? she wondered.

Elizabeth felt strong hands grab her. She felt cold.

And then everything faded.

A/N: Thank you for reading! To be continued with more stuff later this week!

Stay yourself and stay awesome!

~Eryn Aear (formerly known as XantheXV)