Gwen looked at the fire, visions forming in her head. Shadows and mists swirled in her memory. Her memories clouded her mind, despare settled in her soul.  Frodo was gone and she knew not if she would ever see him again. She did not know if she would make it out of the quest alive. Forboding settled in her heart.  She touched her stomach gently, tears flooding over her eyes. The child of her womb, she knew, she knew beyond doubt, the child was going after its father.

****

Frodo sat silently at the edge of the circle, nothing could coax him to speak. Not even Sam could get him to talk of what had happened to Gwen or where the two had been. His heart was heavy and beat silently, protesting the loss of its other half. None of the compains there could have sensed the approch of the shadow, nothing could have stop it from coming. As silently as it came, silently it went away, carrying the ring bearer with it. Its dark hand placed over the mouth, which had no strenght to scream anyways. The ordor that came from it lulled him into a deep sleep.

****

Gwens head jerked up from looking at the fire.  She knew, it had him. Her hand fell to side catching the sword. There was only on way to do this, one way to save him. Gandalf stepped into the light, his eyes looked from her to the sword in her hand. He nodded to her.

"Please, keep they away, atleast untill the deed is done," she asked, her voice and hands trembling as she lifted the sword.

"I will. I am sorry, Gwen, but after this is done you it cannot be reveresed," he spoke, somenly.

"What passed into shadow once cannot return twice," her voice echoed softly. "Take care of him please." Tears began to fall softly, cascading down her face,

"I will," he replied, stepping away from the light.

Gwen looked up at the fire,"My love, I will see you again, someday."

She brought the sword up above her chest, it hovered there a few seconds before plunging into her chest.  She closed her eyes, and whimpered softly, tears still falling as she sank to the ground. "Frodo," she wishpered, before taking her last breath.

Many miles away they shadow fell, dropping Frodo to the ground.

(Author: Alasia)

Leila had an odd look on her face as Denethor ranted and raved, waving his arms about wildly. Why had she agreed to stay here again? Oh yes, because Gandalf had asked her to. The old man was absolutly nuts, and she was rather fond of NOT being there when he decided to sentence himself to death. So, in all intensive purposes, Leila Morgan was not a happy camper - Not that you could tell on the outside.

Shouting suddenly filled the courtyard that led to the healing hall and Leila dashed from the room to see what was going on. Men appeared carrying strechers, and she immediately recognized Merry, which meant that the other two were Eowyn and Faramir. A tall, platimun blone man wearing dirty armor was walking next to Boromir, who was also covered in grime from the battlefield.

Boromir walked over and smiled. "Leila, this is Eomer, Lord of Rohan. Eomer, this is the Lady Leila of Scotland."

Eomer bowed slightly and Leila grinned and nodded at him before turning to Boromir, aiming to hug him, then abruptly stopping and backing away, her nose wrinkled. "Okay... I'll hug you after your clean... Gross."

Eomer was laughing as Boromir stalked off, slightly pissed at her rejection. He had had a bad time of it in the past week that they'd been here. Denethor had refused to believe that Boromir was himself, claiming that his eldest son was dead, because he had seen it. And of course, another shocker would be the fact that Denethor was going to commit suicide at dusk and the only people who knew that were Denethor, Leila and Jairah.

~ * ~

Days later found her sitting atop the wall waiting for Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Jairah to arrive. They had taken the paths of the dead, and the shadow had fallen on the peoples. It was now a rare time when there was a pause in the siege, considering that it was daylight and all. How would things turn out now that she had changed them so much? She wasn't exactly sure, but she did know that whatever happened, it would have a happy ending. Well, it was supposed to have a happy ending. A trumpet blared somewhere, announcing the arrival of an army...

(Author: Krissy)

A think mist filled the room, it reeked of death, evil, blood, and unimaginable sin. Sprawled on a rock slap in the center of the dark room lay a body, covered in nothing but a think layer of dust. Pale and lifeless, no blood reached the blue lips, no breath raised the chest. Almost spent candles lined around the table, giving off an odor not pleasant to the senses.  The slim hand hung off the end, her life blood drained from it into a bowl on the floor. In the shadows a hooded figure watched, its patience far beyond normal. Markings were scratched into the stonewall. A mirror reflected the moonlight onto the body from the small window.

The moon light reached its zenith on the pale corpse. Softly the hooded figure began to mumble the words written on the wall. The blood in the bowl began to glow, then fade away, turning into mist the surrounded slab. The mist was blown by an unseen wind into the nose and into the open mouth.  Slowly the chest began to raise and fall in a steady motion. The eyes opened as the mist dissipated. The color was clouded over by the fog of evil.

She sat up, unashamed of her nakedness. All sense of things right and wrong were blurred, all she knew was her master, death, sin, blood, and her master. The hooded walked over to her draping a blanket around her.

She gazed at him, "What does my master order?" Her voice was cold and icy.

"You must stop them from rasing an army, if you fail in that, then you shall lead the army into battle."

She raised her hand, moving the stiff member, her skin was still deathly pale. Her fingers curled, "My weapons."

The figure placed two swords beside her on the slab along with a black dress. She shed the blanket and put on the clothes, concealing her weapons underneath the dress. The dress hung low, giving no doubt she was a lady. The hooded one hung a black cape over her body clasping it with a silver clasp.  She glanced at the figure one more time before moving out fo the room.

****

Leila sighed. Borimor had insisted she looked around the city. So much ran through her mind, she did not know what to even think any more. She stood watching merchants sell their goods when she felt someone bump into her. She turned around to give them a good tongue lashing, but the person was almost already out of site. The person, a female, turned over her shoulder and looked at Leila. It looked like, but it could not be, Gwen. The black dress was uncharacteristic of the young woman. The scornful look she shot at Leila was too. She shook her head, I have to get some more sleep she thought.