"What's your name, anyways?" The Ranger asks. "Perhaps we could work together. I was sent with much the same mission as you, you know."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but my focus was more on the hobbits. "How am I supposed to work with a man who doesn't show his face or speak his own name?" I asked dryly.

"I could say much the same to you." He replied with a grin.

I sighed heavily. "You may call me Imara."

"Imara? How...interesting."

"Thanks. My mother gave it to me." I said dryly and looked off towards the hobbits again. He seemed to think that was funny because he snorted and picked up his own tankard and took a drink of it.

"You're funny. You can call me Strider."

"Strider? I assume your mother didn't give that one to you." I said distractedly and looked over at the hobbits again, who had taken a seat with their pints of beer, seeking very excited about the sizes of them.

Why was I entertaining conversation with this human? He was a distraction- nothing more.

He seemed even more amused. "Definitely not. My real name isn't something I like."

"I don't mind my name." I say blandly and swirl the alcohol around in my goblet.

"Good. It's beautiful."

I froze slightly and went to respond with a sarcastic comment when one of the hobbits began to laugh.

"That there's my cousin Frodo! Frodo Baggins. Well, my second cousin on my mother's side..." The rest of his words faded as I watched Frodo get up and try to stop his cousin from speaking. Then, the Ring fell from his pocket as he was bumped, effectively knocking him over.

He caught the Ring on his finger and disappeared.

I stood up and walked over to him, reached down and grabbed his arm. He ripped the Ring off before I could take it, so I dragged him upstairs to my rented room and shoved him into the room, closing the door.

"You have something that doesn't belong to you." I snarled. The hobbit's blue eyes widened in fear.

"I-I don't know what you mean." He stammered, backing away from me.

I paused. "You do. You know what it is that you are carrying. And the danger that comes from it. Wearing it can attract some very unwanted attention."

Before Frodo could reply, the door burst open behind me and I drew my sword, the point mere inches from Strider's throat.

He paused, holding his hands up.

The other three hobbits ran to Frodo and created a protective ring around him.

"Now, now, Imara. What's going on?" Strider asked calmly.

I didn't put away my sword and merely said, "Mr. Baggins is using the Ring. And if you were right about those Nazghul following me, they'll be here soon. They'll ride fast for Bree and kill all three of them and bring the Bearer and the Ring to Mordor. I believe it's in all of our interests that the Dark Lord does not get his hands on the hobbit. He needs to understand the severity of putting that Ring on. And the dangers included."

Strider lifted his sword and pushed my blade away from his face and said calmly, "That's all well and good. But you made quite the scene down there by grabbing him like that."

"What was I supposed to do? Let the halfling keep the Ring on longer and create a larger signal for the Wraiths?" I looked to Frodo. "Keep that damned thing on your chain, got that?"

Frodo nodded and Strider sheathed his sword and pulled back his hood, greeting me with blue eyes and a slight grin on his face. "Well, you need not protect the hobbits from me, Imara. We're on the same team here."

I sheathed my own sword and pulled back my hood. "I'd protect him from you if I had to. The Ring does have a strong pull on the hearts of men."

"And not you?" Strider asks and gave me that smirk again. I clenched my jaw. He reminded me so much of Kili.

"Am I man?" I asked with a devious smile as he stared at me. I pulled my red hair from my hood and turned to look at the hobbits.

"We should go. Take them to Rivendell." I said to Strider. "Elrond will be able to help. I'll draw off the Nazghul."

"Are you sure about that? We'd be safer in a group." He says seriously.

"But easier to see and track. You stay in my room. I'll go somewhere else. It's important they believe you've already fled. They'll arrive in the Inn, and then when they don't find you, they'll search elsewhere."

"You seem to know a lot about Nazghul." Strider says somewhat suspiciously.

"Yes. I do." I say and looked at the hobbits. "I'll bring your belongings into this room. Stay here."

I then left before the Ranger could ask me any more questions. I collected the bags from the hobbits' room, then stuffed the beds with straw, leaving the room and setting the bags in my room.

Strider leaned against the window, smoking a pipe once again. The hobbits looked at me but remained silent.

"Rivendell." Strider mused. "Will you join us there, Imara?"

I hesitated. Saying no would be suspicious. I had to blend in now. Elrond might not like me, but my standing with Galadriel might come into my favor if things go sour. And surely he had heard of the deal I struck and guarantee of protection. "Yes." I finally said. "I'll be there."

"Meet us perhaps first at Weathertop. We'll make that our rendezvous." Strider says. "It has a high vantage point and will allow us to see the Nazghul if they find us."

"Indeed. I'll meet you there." I say and bowed my head, then pulled up my hood.

"Until we meet again. Imara." Strider called to me in Sindarin and I clenched my jaw as I left the Inn.

A foolish part of me was almost eager for it.

*******

I stood on a hill a distance from Bree in the rain. I heard the screams of the Ring Wraiths from the town, and with a muttered word in Black Speech, nine black riders appeared, mounted in a circle around me.

"My laddyyyy..." One Wraith hissed as it dismounted and bowed before me.

"You are dismissed." I said with a wave of my hand. The Wraiths looked at one another, as if confused. A horse tossed its head and stamped a hoof. Silence. "Did you not receive an order from me?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"The halflings...they got awayyy...with the Ringg..." The Wraith who had spoken before said. "Were our orders not to kill them?"

"Aren't your very souls tied to my father? Aren't you also then sworn to follow my every command? I did not know, oh old kings of man, that you had a choice in the matter." I snarled.

The Nazghul were nervous now. "Forgive me, my laddyyy." It said and bowed.

"You should be. Now. What was my command? Return to Mordor. And that is what you shall do. And if you return, or if I find you even a foot outside the boarder, well...that whole deal about how no man can kill you certainly rings in my favor, does it not?" I glared at the creature and it shuddered.

"Forgive my insolence. I will do as you have commanded..." it bowed to me once more, then mounted up on its black steed and wheeled it around to go southwest once more.

I looked to the other eight. "I wasn't just speaking to him. I have it handled from here."

Without a moment's hesitation, they were gone.

I turned away from them and clenched my jaw, my fist tightening around the pommel of my sword. To Wearhertop, then.

And my Ring.

******

By the time I got to Weathertop, I found chaos.

I clenched my jaw and cursed to see a torch waving back and forth and the screech of a Nazghul. They didn't listen, it would seem.

I shadow travelled to the top of the outlook, then drove my sword through the back of one of the Wraiths and it collapsed with a hissing screech, disappearing into a cloud of black smoke. 

"My lady, we apologize..." A Wraith hissed in fear and one by one they began to disappear.

The hobbits were too preoccupied to notice, but Strider was staring at me with wide eyes.  He dropped the torch he was holding with a clatter.

He then stepped between me and Frodo, who had a wound in his chest and was gasping for air. I sheathed my weapon and raised my hands in the air.

"Stay away from Frodo." Strider snarled in Sindarin.

"If I wanted you all dead, you would be." I replied in the same tongue. "I sent them off. And they returned. So they will die for it. That's why they all left. They disobeyed my direct orders."

"You're the Daughter of Sauron." Strider said.

"How...observant of you." I said and tilted my head to the side. "I thought my name gave that away sooner than it had, but I guess not. I have no reason to lie to you, Ranger. I haven't once. What makes you think I'm lying now?"

"Because your motive is the Ring." He said and stepped towards me, sword pointed at my throat.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I haven't had contact with my father since my brother destroyed Dol Guldur."

"He...what?" Strider asks, aghast.

"Yes. Apparently we're rebels." I say with a heavy sigh. If I could get them to trust me, they'll let me in. I just needed to give enough truths that they'll believe in me. And then I'll strike and take what is mine. "Frodo was stabbed with a Morgul Blade. He'll become a thrall of the Nazghul if I don't heal him."

"There are healers in Rivendell." Strider says adamantly.

"Strider. He'll die before we can get to Rivendell. Or he'll become a slave and bring the Ring to them himself. I don't want that. Do you?"

"You...don't?"

"The logic of men will forever impress me." I say dryly. "No, you idiot. Sure, it would be nice to have some freedom, it's the first time I've had it in my nine centuries of life. But it also means my brother is safe. The longer Sauron doesn't have the Ring, the longer he stays alive. Frankly he's all I care about in life, so whatever I do from now on in life is for him. Good or bad or whatever you want to call it. I personally don't care about any of the hobbits' lives. But Sauron getting the Ring? That I do care about."

Strider lowered his sword carefully. "Very well. But on one condition."

"What is it?"

"That you'll come to Rivendell with me. And speak to Elrond. I trust his word over yours."

I shrugged. "Very well." I reverted to the Common Tongue and said, "I'll need Kings Foil."

"Oh! I know that plant! My Old Gaffer taught me it was just a weed." One hobbit piped up.

"Good. Go get as much as you can." I say and kneel in front of Frodo and put my hand on his forehead. "He's burning up."

"What's a bunch of weeds gonna do?" Another hobbit asked.

"Let the elf lady do what she does best, Pip." The third hobbit said with some exasperation.

I moved my hand to Frodo's cheek. He wasn't going to make it long. I picked him up, then, and said, "Come. We need to get to a river."

We scaled the outpost and down into a nearby forest. Soon enough, we came to a strange sight indeed. Three trolls turned to stone over a long overgrown campsite. Luckily, there was a small creek.

I set Frodo down next to it and parted his shirt.

And there was the Ring, on a chain around his neck. It called to me. Take it. Take it. Run. Take it. Run.

I clenched my jaw and shook my head. I ripped some fabric from my cloak and doused it in the creek, then pressed it to the wound. Blood and puss flowed from it.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. This was going to hurt. The hobbit returned with the King's Foil and I stuck it into my mouth immediately, chewing it up.

"Don't worry, Mr. Frodo. Miss Imara is gonna fix you up real good." He said and watched me curiously. I spit the plants into my hand, moved the cloth from the wound and pressed the leaves into the wound, covering it again with the damp cloth.

I closed my eyes and began to chant softly in Sindarin. I had truthfully never taken darkness out of someone before. Only killed with it.

I felt a sharp tug in my chest as the darkness entered my hand and went up my arm. I gritted my teeth from the searing hot pain, but didn't stop. Couldn't stop. It felt as if a coal poker was being driven up into my hand and up my arm.

Color began to return to Frodo's cheeks, and he sat up and gasped. I covered my hand and flinched, my hand burning. This one was different. It was more than just a normal wound. This was deeper magic. And it hurt.

I looked at my shaking hands and stood up from the hobbits as they all tackled Frodo in bear hugs, smiling and laughing.

I stepped away from them and turned to come face to face with Strider. I looked up at him said, "Excuse me." I went to walk around him but he side-stepped in front of me. "I said excuse me." I said, holding my hand.

He held a hand out to me, a strange expression on his face. Cautious yet curious. Reserved yet interested.

I hesitated, then placed my hand in his. He turned my hand palm up and examined the black tendrils creeping up my arm. I flinched all over at the touch.

"Now you need a healer." He says, roughly calloused hands gripping my wrist gently.

I pulled free of his grasp, heart beating faster, and said, "I don't. I'll be fine. We should get going. I promised I'd go to Rivendell with you, after all."

He merely nodded his head and without a word, gathered the hobbits together to head for Rivendell.