Arathoniel did her best to process all that Gandalf had told her. A ring. A dark Lord. A fellowship. Frodo bearing the One Ring. And she would plot a course. Alone. As always.

“All my life have I trained for this. You have readied me for this, haven’t you,” Arathoniel felt the heaviness creeping back into her heart, “This I understand. But Frodo, why Frodo? Mankoi nid mi? Why not you? Why not any being other than Frodo Baggins?”

Gandalf raised his hand to stop her thoughts. “The power of the One Ring is too much. Too tempting. You know the Hobbit’s strength. This task is his alone.”

“I cannot accept this, Gandalf. I cannot. I will not.”

“You must and you shall. All of Middle Earth depends upon it.”

“And if I fail,” she stared towards the horizon.

“You will not fail. We both know this,” he grimly watched as she mounted her horse, “There is much peril ahead for us all. Do not lose faith.”