Gerithor and Legolas rode swiftly through the forest, the trees no more than a blur in passing. Neither wanted to flee, but they both knew that Glorfindel was right, they would not be able to stand against the Nine. Gerithor's emotions were especially conflicted, as he wanted to help Aragorn in any way he could. His cousin had protected him many times, and it wasn't often that he was able to return the favor.

But as they rode further and further away, he knew that there was nothing more he could do. Aragorn's fate rested in Glorfindel's hands.

As thoughts of regret filled his mind, he saw that they were coming to a ford. Legolas had led them well, for even Gerithor often had a difficult time finding the Bruinen's ford.

Suddenly, two horsemen stepped into view out of the brush on the far side of the ford, and Gerithor reigned his steed in quickly. Legolas stopped as well, and they stared in silence at the strangers. From this distance, Gerithor could discern that both were elves, though one appeared equipped for war while the other was dressed as a nobleman.

"Halt!" The warrior elleth cried from the other side of the river. "Where are you going?"

Legolas tensed, and Gerithor immediately felt on guard. The elf's voice was commanding, and far from friendly.

"Hah, what my companion meant to say was, we're lost! Completely and utterly! These paths all look alike, and they snake to and fro in a way most confusing!" The second elf said in an apologetic tone.

"Edhael, is that you?" Legolas called out. He seemed to have relaxed slightly, and Gerithor assumed that he knew the other elf.

"Prince Legolas? Apple of King Thranduil's eye? Is it your fair voice that I hear?" Edhael cried, raising a hand to his ear dramatically. Legolas began to grin.

"It is you, you rascal! It's been too long!" He replied, spurring his horse onward across the ford. Gerithor followed, and Esse picked her way carefully across the quickly flowing stream. He watched as Legolas and Edhael met, grasping each other's forearms in greeting.

"I haven't been west of the mountains for well... Hundreds of years!" Edhael exclaimed, and when he saw Gerithor approaching he let out a joyful laugh. "And who is this? One of the heirs of Numenor, crossing the river as if stepping out of a legend?"

Legolas laughed at Edhael's overly dramatic description. "Indeed it is! This is Gerithor, one of the Dunedain."

Edhael's eyes widened in wonderment. "Nay! This cannot be the Gerithor, the one who singlehandedly struck down the Black Numenorean Arnakhor atop his own tower!"

"I did fight him, though definitely not alone. In fact, my friends did most of the work," Gerithor replied quietly. He knew that those that told his story often exaggerated it, leaving his friends out. But he quickly attempted to set the story straight whenever he could, for he knew that his friends did just as much, if not more, to defeat the Black Numenorean as he did. His best friend Eldahir had given his life helping him defeat Arnakhor.

"I am sure that those who helped you were valiant warriors as well!" Edhael said. "Now, let me introduce you to my companion. Taliel, meet Gerithor and Legolas. Gerithor and Legolas, meet-"

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Taliel interrupted. "But we must reach Rivendell soon, we can talk more once we are safe behind its walls." She adjusted her helmet slightly. Gerithor realized that her armor, along with the helmet, were from the Second Age at least, perhaps even the First Age. He had seen armor just like it in Elvish art depicting the Battle of the Last Alliance. He decided that he would ask about it later, but for now she seemed quite intent on reaching Rivendell.

"Now that we are at the Ford, I know the way to Rivendell," Gerithor asserted. Legolas nodded in affirmation.

"I too know the way; it is fortunate that you came upon us when you did."

"Indeed it is," Taliel said as she glanced at Legolas. Gerithor noticed her eyes quickly dart between his daggers and his bow, and it seemed as though she was sizing him up. When she seemed satisfied she turned her gaze on the ranger, and when she saw that he was watching her she met his gaze with a cold stare.

"Let's be off then!" Edhael said with a laugh, noticing the moment of tension. Taliel quickly looked away from Gerithor and spurred her horse ahead. The ranger raised an eyebrow and reigned Esse into the lead of the small group beside Legolas. This Taliel is a strange elf, he thought to himself. It reminded him vaguely of the first time he had met Caledorn, for back then the elf had come across as mysterious and rather intimidating. Now that he knew him better, he knew that there was nothing to fear from the dark haired elf, and he hoped that it would be the same way with Taliel.

Gerithor led the way through the colorful forest, carefully watching to find the right way in the darkness of night. The three elves spoke amongst themselves in hushed voices, though the ranger tuned them out as he focused on his surroundings. The trees grew tall here, and there was little undergrowth to hinder his vision. The ground was covered in a layer of leaves that had recently fallen from the trees, a herald that autumn was upon them.

Gerithor liked the forest best in the fall, for the colors and the falling leaves made him feel at peace. He remembered that his mother had often wandered through the forest in the fall, and she had taken him with her when he was a young child. She would tell him about the trees, and how they once spoke. How the elves had awoken them and breathed life into them in the Elder Days. She told him that they still spoke, but only the elves could hear their voices now.

He wondered what they were saying now, for a ranger and three elves clad in outlandish fashion must've been quite an unusual sight to see in the forest.

"Gerithor, you are straying from the path," Taliel cautioned, pulling Gerithor from his thoughts.

"It seems I am, forgive me. My mind is elsewhere," He replied quietly as he guided Esse back onto the path.

They continued to ride until they reached a steep ravine. It seemed to be a drop into nothingness, but Gerithor rode closer and pointed to a narrow path that wound down around the ravine, hugging the side as it descended. The ranger nodded to himself in satisfaction, relieved that he had found it.

"We are nearly there. The path leads down this ravine, and once we reach the bottom we will have all but arrived."

"Thank Eru!" Edhael exclaimed as he stretched lazily. "Oh, to be back among my kinsmen! After so long! And to finally rest in a soft bed with a luxuriously fluffy pillow!"

A distant screech caused all four of the riders to look around in fear, for the moment forgetting that they were almost to safety.

"Quickly! Down the path!" Gerithor cried. He waited for his three companions, then galloped quickly after them. The screeches grew closer and a panicked cry echoed through the forest as well. That was no wraith, Gerithor thought, his heart pounding in his ears. He reigned Esse in and spun around, fully intending to ride back into the forest. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he looked to see Legolas wearing an urgent expression.

"We cannot aid them any more! All we can do now is to tell Lord Elrond of their plight."

"That's my cousin out there!" Gerithor exclaimed, pulling away from the elf.

"He would not wish for you to die needlessly! You cannot help him!" Legolas insisted. Gerithor let out a sigh, for he knew that the elf was right.

"Then we should hurry to Rivendell," He said defeatedly. "We must do what little we can."

Legolas nodded in agreement, and the two companions turned their horses around and followed Edhael and Taliel down the ravine. Every step of the way Gerithor regretted his choice, and guilt gnawed at him. But it was made now, he couldn't change it. He only hoped that Aragorn was safe, and that Glorfindel could save him from the clutches of the Nazgul.

I know this chapter was shorter than the others, but this was the best place to leave it for now. I hope you all enjoyed it though! Let me know what you think so far! Any feedback is appreciated!