The night was serene, a gentle breeze moves through the air. Although the sky is clear, the stars shine dimly upon the forest city below. As if in accordance with the lights above, the lamps of Lothlórien were dulled, providing the barest of illumination of the paths that twist and turn between the trees. It is on one of these darkened paths that Elsa travels, to a summon by Queen Galadriel.

Elsa had adjusted her outfit to what Anna called her Ice Palace dress, the strapless gown flowing smoothly over the ground as she walks towards the Queen. She did not find it appropriate to approach a fellow queen in an adventure outfit. However, she did add a few spices to the dress, namely adding skinny ruffles around her wrist and collar.

I wonder why she seeks me in the middle of the night. Sure, there was little time after the initial meeting, as she seemed to want me to be healed first, and to catch up with Anna, but couldn't this wait until... She rounds another bend and finds herself at the top of stairs. Twenty feet below her is Galdriel, who is standing next to what appears to be a large birdbath. Which happens to be shimmering with an bright, silver light. Okay, mysterious stone basin of enchanting shiny water, that's why this couldn't wait until morning. Once Elsa descends the stone steps, she moves forward a few paces to stand across from Galadriel. She notices that the closer she moves towards Galadriel and the fountain, the air became stiller.

"Greetings, Queen Elsa, thank you for coming."

A gentle smile graces her face, yet Elsa detects that the Elf before her means to placate the purpose of the meeting. She has a few ideas as to what this sense of dread is, and all revolve around herself and her powers. Elsa curtsies, her dress glittering under the presence of the silvery pool. However, the dazzle is short lived, as when Elsa stands all light play ceases action. Both notice the seemingly random, yet coordinated action of the light, as though the sparkle had a life of its own.

"It is my pleasure, your Grace. To what do I owe this occasion?"

While the gentle smile remains on Galadriel's face, her eyes soften ever so slightly, as though it brings her pain to have this discussion. "Oh, how I wish it could be a pleasure." The smile is gone, and a look of foreboding is on Galadriel's face. "It does not please me to be brusque about what my next statement, yet it is necessary. You should not be here."

Elsa tilts her head to the side, her face blank for the most part. "In what sense? Elrond has informed me about the odd ways of the North Mountain."

"I am not referring to your travels from a different world. This about your abilities, how you embody winter itself." Elsa narrows her eyes as Galadriel strides towards her, but remains silent. "Tell me, when you traveled with Gandalf, how often did you observe him perform his magic?"

Elsa ponders the question for a moment, "Hardly ever. Sometimes I wonder if he even had magic, the things he did do appeared basic."

Galadriel's shoulders dip ever so slightly at the answer. "There is reason he restricted his talents. It begins with an ancient war many millennia ago. Before even the war over the ring that goes on now. This was a time where even Sauron had a master, a dark being by the name of Morgoth. If you wish, I can provide more details, but for the sake of brevity, I shall recount a simpler tale." Galadriel pauses as she notices that Elsa wishes to speak.

"Not to spoil your story, but Elrond gifted me a history book from his library. I am familiar with the tale of Morgoth." Elsa scratches one of her hands. "I would still like to hear what you would like to say about it though."

The elven queen nods, "I see. This was an era where beings of Gandalf and Saruman's capabilities were generals to individuals who you might consider Gods. Both sides engaged in conflicts which caused immense destruction and instant ruin across the lands. The costs to defeat Morgoth were uncountable. Since then the Ishtari resolved to limit their abilities, less they influence history more than allowed."

"Okay...are you telling me I've been using too much magic and I should scale it back?"

"No."

"No?"

"I do believe it best for you to be removed from this conflict, but I will never tell you what should and should not be." Her answer only receives silence from Elsa, so Galadriel continues, "Before you arrived, there was a balance to this fight. Good would resist evil, as a tyrant shall attempt to conquer the free. But now there is you. You, who wields a power never before witnessed in all the realms. You, whose abilities transcend nearly all but the heavens above."

The two queens face each other, Galadriel's face a porcelain mask, Elsa a mix of confusion, worry, and curiosity. The light from the stars and the basin shining on their faces highlights the contrasting expressions. A few moments pass in silence, before Elsa speaks up, in a rather reluctant tone. "Basically, then, this is just a warning, as you will not act on your own thoughts for what is best." Galadriel merely nods, which Elsa sighs in response to. "Right. As much as I wish I could be removed from this conflict, I believe my actions to help this fellowship have garnered too much attention."

"That focus will not disappear until a side has achieved victory." More silence passes. When Galadriel determines that Elsa might be generous with the time to formulate a response, she heads over to her basin. She does not look down into the waters though, so as to not disturb its magic. "I do not need to hear your answer, for it is unlikely to change anything. I do wish to tell you of one thing, though." She motions towards the basin. "This basin is unique, for it works as a mirror." Elsa beings to walk over hesitantly. "Whoever peers into these waters does not see a still reflection. Rather, they are are shown their past, present, and what may yet come." Elsa has reached the lip of the basin, averting her eyes from the water. "Even I can never know what it shows to others who look into it. You are free to see for yourself, or walk away."

Elsa locks her gaze with Galadriel, attempting to discern if the elf would given any further words on this, apparently, magical basin. She finds none, yet still looks away from the surface as she considers this offer. Such a powerful object, yet she, the woman who appeared out of nowhere to join this long and wild ride, is the one being given the opportunity. For better or worse, the potential reward is worth the risk.

Slowly, Elsa turns to face the magical mirror. However, before she gives it her focus, Galadriel adds one more thing, "Ah, please don't touch the waters. Just in case, considering your powers." Of all things, Galadriel looks a bit sheepish with the request.

Smirking now, Elsa leans over to fully gaze into the shimmering water. At first, she barely recognizes what she sees: a slightly tanned, blue eyed, blonde woman with short hair sticking up at the back. Just as she remembers how Aragorn gave her that impromptu and unintentional hair cut, the image shifts. Before her is a scene that immediately elicits both warmth and dread: stacks of snow in the ballroom with Anna jumping from pile to pile. Before the it gets to the climax, with the magic streaking right at her young sister, the image shifts again. It shows a day of her life that for the longest time was like any other, Elsa alone her large room staring outside. This view is gone quickly, replaced by another day in her room, the day of her parent's funeral.

Elsa narrows her eyes, annoyance building at how this 'mirror' seemed to be only showing painful parts of her past. As though responding to Elsa's thoughts, the waters shift again. In more flashes of scenes, Elsa witnesses her journey of these past few months, her mouth falling open at how much has already transpired. It was similar to watching a play, with her own battles being fascinating.

What transpires next, though, turns Elsa's skin a milky pale white. An army of orcs and snow golems, clad in armors and weapons of ice and steel, walk on by. They march unopposed, the land frozen and dead around them. Watching over this army is a woman wearing icy, frozen clothes. She commands all around her, ice and snow submitting their will to the twitch of her finger. Behind this powerful woman are numerous ice statues, all of whom resemble the frozen forms of her companions. Elsa clutches at her mouth at the sight of the sculpture directly behind the woman. It's head has fallen to the ground, with little speckles of ice surrounding the spot it landed. It is the lone feminine looking statue, the head showing a very familiar face, with two distinct pigtails down the side.

Elsa forces herself to continue watching, as her gut says the most important part is yet to come. From the frozen figures of her comrades, the mirror moves closer to the woman, who appears eerily familiar. Her gown is a very flourishing design which covers the body neck to toe. Elsa could almost swear that she looks like herself too, if it weren't for her hair, which is a near pitch black. The woman pauses in her movements, as though detecting that she is being watched. A smile grows on her face, one that looks satisfied and sinister. The woman whips her head around to stare directly at Elsa, and it is all she can manage not to scream. Staring right at her is a near mirror image. Sure, the hair is on the opposite color spectrum and the eyes are darker, but this woman is her. And on her left hand is that ring that everyone wants destroyed.

Elsa wrests her eyes away, unable to continue gazing in silence. She is also surprised to find herself panting. Galadriel remains impassive as Elsa gathers her breath. She stares into the eyes of the Elf Queen, anger presenting itself in her brow. "That. Will. Never. Happen!" Elsa declares, before storming back to the fellowship.

Galadriel simply watches as her fellow Queen practically stomps back to the guests encampment, a light dust of ice left in her wake. She is almost tempted to laugh at Elsa for her last statement, as she always finds amusement when people react with anger after a gaze into the basin, as though she could control or know what they saw. In consideration of what this latest person is capable of, though, Galadriel does not see any humor.

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The Fellowship had been traveling for a couple hours now, their canoes making swift travel down the river. Elsa and Anna had chosen to be together, with Anna hoping to converse with her sister more, and possibly hear about what Queen Galadriel had wanted. However, Elsa has been strangely tight lipped the entire day so far, thus Anna has forced herself to become content with becoming acclimated to the knife she received from the Elves, which, remarkably, was designed to complement her skills and physicality.

The river ran through a thick forest situated in a wide valley. It is a peaceful day, with a bright sun, pleasant cries of birds, and cool air. Elsa appears to be absorbing the sights before her, but in actuality is focused on nothing in particular. Anna is the first to break nature's peace, "The signing was beautiful last night, as sad as it was."

Elsa gives a soft, "Hnn" in agreement, but continues to stare out of the boat, but as to what she was looking at, Anna could not tell.

"So what was he like?"

Elsa turns her head, a rather blank look on her face. "Gandalf?"

Anna rolls her eyes, "Are there any other magical, ancient, possibly angelic individuals that have die around here lately?"

"Well, depending on your definition of angelic, I have been told the balrog could count."

"Elsa!" Anna gives a playful slap to her sister's arm. "You're dodging the question. This is the first person you've met, besides the trolls, who had magical abilities and now you'll have to believe there was nothing special about him?" Anna has her arms crossed over her chest.

Sighing, Elsa gives her attention to Anna, "At first, I was astounded at times to discover this land teeming with magic. But through these past few months, the awe has faded. Yes, there are creatures and beings here I never would have imagined. Yet, once I look past it all, this place isn't so different..." She lets the last statement drift away on the calm breeze, but it doesn't go far before Anna responds.

"Pshh." She flicks her wrist, as though to rid her elbow of an imaginary speck of dust. "Then don't look past it silly. We're in uncharted territory for Arendelle and you've already lost the wonder of it?" Elsa shrugs before starting to turn away, but Anna catches her shoulder, "Besides, you're still avoiding the question." Her playful tone is all but gone, and a glare, or attempt at one, is focusing right on Elsa's eyes. Elsa grumbles, smooths out her icy doublet, and tugs on her left boot before returning the gaze.

Elsa puts a finger on her chin while looking at the sky. "He was sort of like, an amalgamation of those wise old men in stories. The kind that could solve the problem, but would rather stay out of the way to help the hero." Anna nods in understanding, even though Elsa couldn't see her. "Always there to provide something. Yet the biggest things I ever saw him do was light his staff without burning it and cause a bridge to collapse on command." She glances away again, before muttering under her breath about the weight of the balrog.

Anna giggles at her sister's demeanor, and gives a small shoulder rub. "There, now was that so hard?"

"Yes." The response is automatic, and as cold as the clothes she wears.

"Okay, okay. You are just being strange, alright? It's as through we're back to you locking yourself in that room." Elsa's face drops at the mention of her old behaviors, but it is temporary, and within seconds she is gazing out of the boat again. Anna is about to question Elsa further, when something extraordinary catches her eye. "Wow...Elsa look!"

However, her sister's attention appears to be occupied by nothing once again. Thus, while still staring at the spectacular sight, Anna grasps her sister's head and turns it forward. "Anna! What are..." Elsa's words die in her throat as she registers the sight approaching them. Two statues, carved into the stone hills that flank the river, steadily grow in size as their boat moves downriver. Both sisters marvel as the Kingly presence the figures put forth. The giant men stare into the horizon, their hands put forward to block an unseen enemy. Elsa can overhear Aragorn talking to Merri and Pippin about the history of the two statues.

"Hey Elsa?"

"Yes?"

"Think we could get a couple of those at the entrance of the Fjord?"

"Stone or ice?"

"Whichever works best."

"I'll get on it as soon as we get back."

As they pass the gateway, Elsa spots a flash of movement. She finds nothing when looking directly at the spot, but she now discerns that they are no longer alone. Ahead on the river, she sees Gimli and Legolas conversing in low voices, potentially about the same thing.

Elsa dips her hand into the water, pooling magic into her fingertips and palm. With a small thought, she form a trout of ice, whose scales are so clear that light passes through with only a light shimmer. Its purpose ingrained at creation, the fish swims towards the shoreline, seeking out the presence Elsa detects.

"What are you doing?" Anna asks, looking out over the water. Elsa brings her hand out and moves towards Anna. She speaks quietly.

"We're being watched. I created an ice fish to observe the shoreline closer and hopefully pick out what's there."

"Neat! Since when can you do that?" Anna's eyes shoot open in delight.

"Well, I've created a bird with similar purpose before..."

"What?"

"But it was turned against me, so I was forced to destroy it. The fish, however, was simpler. I thought of something that could spy and my magic did the rest." She pauses for moment as a thought enters her head, "Didn't anyone tell you last night? Surely Pippin or Sam would have told you about this last night considering I might have glossed over it myself." Anna merely shrugs in response. At this point the sisters notice Aragorn has started heading for the western shore bank.

The air was calm as the boats touched the riverbank, not a breeze to sway the trees. While Merri, Pippin, Sam, and Anna breathed in deep and sighed with content, the rest of the group was not as eager to fill their lungs as so. Gimli muttered under his breath about the air tasting foul, and Legolas nodded his head, adding that the stillness felt unnatural. Aragorn squinted as he looked over the opposite shore, attempting to discern which flitting shadows were natural and those that did not belong.

Elsa was also staring across the river, although with her it was a search for her ice fish. After her last construct was compromised, keeping her newer ones on shorter leashes seemed to be a prudent move in order to keep an eye out and still have the group's movements concealed. Although it would appear that concealment is now impossible. I just hope to figure out how many are following us. Ah! She felt her connection restored, and with another ability she discovered and acted upon on the fly, she peers through the fish's eyes. There was a small delay in actually looking when Elsa took a few seconds to recognize that even though she actually was looking through the eyes of her fish, that her vision was still normal, despite using the clear eyes made of ice. The sight that greets her is not good. Numerous orcs moving through the trees, their masses larger than any she had seen before. The amount of them was too difficult to tell, almost similar to counting a swarm of ants, if the ants were at least six feet tall with armor and sharp weapons. And they appeared to be headed straight for The Fellowship.

Breaking contact from her fish, Elsa turns and moves towards the group. Seeing Aragorn, she walks to his side to speak with him. Aragorn stops searching the far shore to see what she wants, "We are being followed." She states.

Aragorn regards her with a calm look, taking a moment to respond, "Of course. We have been followed since Moria."

Elsa's eyes widen in shock, her voice temporarily caught in her throat, "You-you know this? Why are so relaxed then?"

Aragorn is not off put by her surprised reaction. Rather, he gives a comforting smile in order to console their lone magic user, "Do not worry, Gollum presents no threat to us as long as we keep up are awareness." Despite his answer Elsa's face still retains a confused look, which prompts Aragorn to get a concerned one on his.

"Gollum? There are orcs after us. Why do you think Gollum is more important than that?" Elsa asks, clenching her fists at her sides.

Aragorn still remains calm though, even if his smile disappears, "So you have noticed too. Yes, a pack has been following us. Again, there is no worry, we are stopping here briefly, and will move on before they can reach us."

His words do little to abate Elsa's concerns, as she is now rubbing her thumbs over her clenched fists. She takes a look downstream to the general direction she figures the orcs are coming from. The ice fish is still within her range of connection, and somehow she is able to detect that it is still following those orcs, who seem to have gained speed in the brief minute Elsa stopped watching them. If The Fellowship stayed where they are, this break will be all too short.

"Worry I shall. I don't know where you think they are in relation to us, but I believe they will be upon us in soon." She stops rubbing her knuckles and unclenches her fist, although her shoulders appear tensed and squared. Her magic starts to slowly dribble over her hands, "Very soon."

Aragorn keeps his face in a stoic manner, but a hand does fall towards his sword, "You are sure?" He asks, glancing over to Legolas to see if he has noticed anything different. The elf, however, is busy tying the boats to a nearby tree. He looks back at Elsa, who's posture has a slight drop to it now that Aragorn appears to understand her concern.

"Positive." She states, her magic starting to coalesce into a pointed edge, "Although I do admit I may be acting paranoid at the moment." The sharp edge is growing longer, and another one develops an inch or so below it, "But I'll take that over being ambushed." The ice in her right hand has finished forming into a jagged cutlass, although wisps of magic still float around the edge and hilt. The sword is also completely clear, Aragorn notes.

Aragorn puts a hand on her shoulder, barely able to resist flinching at cold, "Let us consult Legolas first, and see what his Elven senses can detect." Leading the way, they head towards their scout, who is finished with the boats and was about to check on Anna and Sam, who are in the midsts of creating a fire for lunch, before noticing the two approaching him. His eyes narrow at Elsa, considering the sword in her left hand, the tight manner she is carrying herself, and lips held tight in a frown that was almost a scowl.

Turning to meet them, he readies a hand in case the need to draw his bow arises, "What ails you that is causing such a concerned look, my lady?" He inquires, although personally he figures to already know the source of their concern.

"Orcs. They're close and gaining, and yet we remain here sitting like ducks." Says Elsa, her voice concise yet also rushed.

"Tell us Legolas, what do you hear in these woods." Aragorn requests, casting an aside glance at Elsa, whose gaze remains fixated on the Elf. Returning his focus to Legolas, he gives a slight jerk to the north with his head.

Legolas turns towards where Aragorn indicated, tilting his head for better acoustics. He remains silent for a few moments, and in that time Elsa starts to clench her right hand again. With another small movement of his head, Legolas gives his report, "The group is coming our way a few miles from the North, but on the opposite side of the river. Their pace is consistent, and I detect no labored breaths. They have yet to reach the landslide though, which should slow them."

Aragorn turns to Elsa with a smile, but pauses at her posture, which appears even more wound than previously, "How many?" She asks.

Legolas pauses before giving another answer, "Ten. Fifteen at most."

There is a sudden clinking and rustling sound, as Elsa's attire is shifting. The flatter areas of her torso and limbs harden, gaining flat edges. Two trails of ice start climbing her neck to the jaw, "Those are not the orcs I saw. There were countless more than just ten." Accompanying her clothes modification was a drop in the air temperature, slight at first, but noticeable enough that both Aragorn and Legolas quickly catch on.

Aragorn puts his hand on Elsa's shoulder again, "Elsa hold on." He receives a glare in response, but her magic does pause for the time being. However, her actions did attract the attention of Gimli, who has started walking towards the three of them. "I understand your concern, but openly using your powers like that will draw more eyes." Continues Aragorn, tightening his grip on her shoulder for emphasis.

"I need to be ready though!" Elsa protests, a small flurry erupting from her free hand.

"Then prepare yourself in a way that does't grab attention." Barks Gimli with a laugh. It fades when he notices the stern looks of the group, especially the glare Elsa shoots him, "Ah, what are we preparing for?"

"Orcs." Hisses Elsa, her armor shaping up again, this time at a slower rate. Aragorn takes his hand off as some of it moves towards her shoulders. "They're after us and there are many more than the ten Legolas here can only seem to pick out."

Gimli's axe is brandished in a quick flourish as he searches the area with rapid back and forth head movements. Aragorn is about to calm Gimli also when Legolas puts his hand up, his head moving to pick up other sounds. "Wait, I do hear more." The three of them look expectantly at him, "They approach from the far side of the hill. They are after someone, who is alone." Legolas whips his head towards their makeshift campsite, where it is still Anna and Samwise, who are now stirring a large pot and appear to have an animated discussion going on concerning potatoes. Legolas makes a quick sweep of their surroundings, but is unable to find who he is searching for, "Where is Frodo?"

Aragorn takes one look towards the trees before dashing off. Gimli and Legolas follow while Elsa remains still for a moment. Shaking her head, she moves to Anna, who is perplexed by the sudden movements of Aragorn and the other two.

"Elsa, what is-"

"Where's Frodo?" Elsa asks, apprehension straining her voice. Sam, seemingly relaxed in, or is oblivious to, all of this, motions for her to calm down.

"It's alright Ms. Elsa. Mr. Frodo just went for a walk to gather firewood with Boromir. Come, sample this soup Ms. Anna helped cook."

Momentarily befuddled by the hobbit, Elsa can only tilt her head to the side. Anna, noticing Elsa's sword, pulls out a dagger and looks around for the other Fellowship members. "Elsa, what's going on?" Her voice tentative.

"Orcs." Elsa turns her attention from Sam, who practically drops his spoon. "They are coming, and they appear to be after Frodo." Before Elsa can add that Frodo seems to have been separated from Boromir, she hears a gasp from Anna and a clank as Sam's spoon definitely hits the ground this time. Off he dashes to the woods, shouting for Frodo, and wielding the closest heavy object he could find: a cast iron skillet.

"...They do that here also?" Asks Anna as she watches Sam disappear into the trees.

"Surprisingly, it seems to be a common tactic." Comments Elsa, who blinks a couple times before returning to the matter at hand. "Anyway, we have Orcs approaching. Now I know you've been training with those swords for quite a while now, and I hate to tell you this, but-"

"This will be nothing like my instructor's fights?" Anna interrupts, smirking at the small bit of shock Elsa has. "I get it, these orcs, or whatever, are unpredictable and likely to go for the kill. Like I haven't faced that before." She chuckles, hoping her attitude will lift Elsa's spirit. Or at least unwind her a bit, it was starting to get cold here.

Elsa remains still as she takes time to absorb Anna's enthusiasm. Certainly Anna was ready for a one on one fight, Elsa had seen the training before, but a whole horde? "How can you be so upbeat about this?"

"Floria recommends finding a positive emotion to be in when fighting. It helps with concentration and focus. So I just imagine the joy I feel every time you demonstrate your powers." Anna chirps. Admittedly she was skeptical when this first came up, but with practice it turned out far better than she could have hoped. Even when she went out to training yard after Elsa had gone missing to distract herself, it eventually felt odd to do it any other way.

Elsa, even though she is a bit frustrated at the moment, can't help but laugh through her nose. "Well then, I guess my lecture is pointless, onward then." They start running in the direction Sam went off to, but after just a few feet Elsa stops, magic starting to swirl into a ball in her hand. She reaches up to place her sword on her back, and with a small clack it falls into place over her shoulder blades. Creating another swirl of magic in her left hand, she motions for Anna to step back, who is busy staring at the sword that is hanging on nothing.

"How is that sword...staying there?" Anna asks, seeing but still not believing it.

"Magic." Elsa throws her two icy spheres at the ground, and before they even land she has two more at the ready. Six more pairs of frosty orbs hit the dirt in rapid succession, where upon contact a swirl of ice and snow rise into the air. Anna is reminded of when Marshmallow came to life, and is astonished when before her eyes that's almost what happens. These golems are reminiscent of their friend in the palace, but there are noticeable differences. The ice on them is thicker and more prominent, they appear more streamlined than Marshmallow, and none of them have glowing blue eyes. Finally, all wield large ice broadswords, each as long as a man is tall. Elsa turns back to Anna, a smirk forming at the dumbfounded look on her sister's face. Reaching up, she grabs her sword and points to the hills, "Where we're going, I figure some backup would be nice."

Still staring slack-jawed, a full second passes before Anna shakes her head rapidly and brings back the smile. "Backup, right! Let's go!" Once more, they dart off towards the main hill, the golems following closely behind. As they're moving, Elsa feels that Anna is almost singing, and is definitely smiling, nearly laughing. That cannot be a healthy mentality for battle. Elsa thinks; but the more she studies her sister, the more she's convinced it is a facade. The smile does not reach her eyes, and the leather of her gloves is draw exceptionally tight around the fists which clutch her dagger and sword separately. In addition, sweat is gathering around Anna's brow and her face is noticeably pale. Perhaps she is still faking confidence for the moment. This might be a struggle. Pushing those thoughts to the back, Elsa returns her attention the surrounding forest.

The sound reaches them first. A sharp clang, a swish, and the retched scream of a dying orc. The group that has been following them is here, even quicker than Elsa figured. From what the sisters can tell, the action is just over the ridge with crumbling ruins on top. As they charge up the hill, an orc trips at the top and comes crashing down, rolling to a stop just a few feet in front of Elsa. Taking no chances, Elsa sprints to the orc and jabs her sword into its neck. It is a neat strike that goes clean through. Elsa smirks at her improved design, although that quickly disappears when she hears the loud gasp from Anna behind her. Withdrawing her sword, Elsa is about to check on her when a glint from the wound catches her eye.

To both of their surprise, the gash on the orc's neck has frozen over, with ice spreading quickly to the surrounding area. Considering the odd angle that the orc landed at, the now brittle neck can no longer support the heavy head and helmet, and with a crack and crunch, the head falls off and starts tumbling down the hill. "Well...that went better than expected." Notes Elsa as she continues to watch the misplaced head. She brings her sword to eye level, analyzing the misty wisps that flow off the edge. "So, a sword that slashes and freezes." She turns the edge over, watching as the trails of blue twist with the blade. A glint appears in her eyes, accompanied by a devilish smirk, "This ought to be fun."

Anna, though, was not as impressed. To be fair, resisting the urge to regurgitate lembas bread took up most of her attention. In her attempts to keep the bile down with gulps and deep breaths, a wretched dry heave escapes her throat. She thought she could handle what the battle would throw at her: the sights, sounds, smells, fatigue, and danger. She was even used to seeing drawn blood during practice on both herself and her opponent. This though, was different. The shock was too much all at once, both the decapitated head and Elsa's swift actions. This new demeanor didn't help either.

Of course I'm the princess losing her lunch at the first sight of- her thoughts are cut off when another dry heave forces her way up the throat. When that abates, the nausea finally dissipates. How cliché. She looks over to Elsa to give a thumbs up.

Elsa rolls her eyes, "And here I thought you were ready, dear sister." She has her sword down at her side with her other hand on her hip. Anna raises a finger to object, but the sounds of clashing swords and thundering feet reminds both of them of their situation. Coming over the ridge are numerous orcs, who are moving right at them. Or they are fleeing some unseen danger at the top of the hill, Anna finds it hard to determine. When the orcs do spot them though, they pause for a moment. Both sides stare at the other, and before the orcs can make their move, a voice rings out.

"CHARGE!" Cries Elsa, her sword in the air. She takes off at the orcs, who have similarly resumed their running. Then came the golems. In a heavy rush of ice and wind, all of them attack at pace much faster than Anna could have imagined. She is just barely able to avoid the swift movements of the ice golem who passed her with a twirl to the side that goes on for too long and leaves her dizzy. After she rights herself, Anna follows the group, sword and dagger readied at her sides. It does not take long before she encounters an orc who had been missed in the midst of the clashing sides. Anna would swear that the orc narrowed its eyes at her in recognition, as though she were a planned target.

With a guttural cry, the orc chargers forward, at a much faster pace than Anna thought possible adorned with all of that armor. There is still plenty of time for her to raise her weapon considering the still large distance between the two. She decides to defend or react as her first move, to get a feel for the method of attack about to strike her. What happens over the next minute nearly overwhelms Anna. The concept in practice was simple, predict what move the orc was going to take, and take her own action to counteract it. The execution, however, was exponentially harder. The force from the orc's blow nearly knocked Anna down on the first strike, and it was all she could manage just to shrug off each successive one.

After deflecting an attack from the side, Anna sees her opportunity to take the offensive. Thrusting with a jab, she manages to force the orc backwards, and starts to unleash her own parry to reverse the situation. Heh, this is kinda like when the hero gets the upper hand on- Anna's thoughts are cut short as a large sword of ice pierces through the orc's torso. The orc falls limp silently, the cold sword making a last breath impossible.

Anna stares at the rapidly cooling corpse before raising her gaze to the golem before her. It slips the sword out of the orc, nods at Anna, then turns to attack elsewhere. Anna watches it go before shaking her head. Stop getting distracted Anna. Remember, find your happy place, find your positive... Again, her thoughts are stopped by another orc being stuck by an ice golem, this one having its head crushed under a heavy foot. Once more, Anna can only manage to stare at the sight before her. Okay, positive energy is a load of huey in battle.

She is not given more time to ponder this development as another orc chargers her. With no desire to block any more powerful attacks that leave her bones rattled, Anna rushes to meet the twisted warrior. She is grateful to find that this occur appears to be weaker than its now dead companion, and uses the opportunity to finally put her practice into action. Using her sword as a feint to the right, she jabs straight for the neck with her dagger in a quick in and out manner.

To Anna's utter surprise, her attack to stab her dagger straight through the orc's throat works like a charm. Blood black as shade instantly spews forth as the orc makes inanimal gurgle sounds before it collapses to the ground. As it lays there with as the blood pools around its head, Anna stands stock still in shock. Yes, she understands what has just happened and why; rather, Anna never expected that tactic to actually work. Subconsciously, she anticipated the orc to dodge such an obvious maneuver. Yet her she was standing over the fresh corpse of her first kill, and the only sound she can hear is the overwhelming pound of blood in her ears.

"Hey, are you alright?" She crouches down and pushes at the limp body, grasping at the hope that the sight before her is merely an illusion. However, nothing happens. She pushes once more, repeating her question, but only receives silence in response.

A sudden rush of panic sets in for Anna, which results in her dropping her sword, although the grip on her dagger remains strong. "No." She whispers, her denial lost in the midsts of burgeoning chaos. "No." She repeats, as though it might change things. Yet, the continuing stillness of the orc body only reinforces her dissent against reality. "No no no no no no!" Her chanting becomes louder with each successive "no", which catches the attention of a nearby orc who is running from an imposing golem. Taking advantage of this opportunity, it rushes forward to strike the oblivious Anna.

It is merely an instinctive reaction, yet the second Anna hears footsteps rapidly approaching her, she flings her dagger towards the source. Somehow, Anna does not even need to determine whether the sound was friend or foe, for she already knew. Perhaps the elven dagger was crafted with additional abilities that allowed for enemy detection; or perhaps while her mind was in denial, Anna's body was still set in battle ready mode. Either way, her throw hits true, the knife makes its mark on the thigh, piercing a large vein of the orc. It falls to the ground and skids for a few feet. The orc attempts to get up, but the blood loss is already too immense, and it can only manage to crawl towards Anna. After just a few feet, a golem comes in to kick away the weak orc. Even though if flies only a few yards, the force is enough to down it.

It is only after this latest golem kicks the orc that Anna notices another Golem next to her. She perceives an air of protectiveness between the two warrior Marshmallows. This causes her to be both relieved and annoyed at this new prospect. Although she does quickly acknowledge that her actions so far do warrant protection.

Anna does make an effort to learn how to adjust to the chaos of battle, but the protection of the golems makes her feel as though she were a spectator rather than a participant. She watches as the golems take down scores of orcs, their icy swords and armor a superior force against their foes. The orcs, however, have plenty of fighters to spare, and those numbers begin to wear down on the warrior Marshmallows. Eventually, only one golem remains against ten orcs, Anna to its backside.

She is beginning to prepare herself to reenter the battle when a horn blast cries out from over a nearby ridge. It is a cry for help, one that sounds human to Anna, though she cannot place why. A second blast confirms it for her, and without a second thought, she is running towards the sound.

Passing over couple of ridges, she stops at the summit of one to spot the largest orc she has seen so far. This one wields a tall, twisted looking bow, and has an arrow drawn taught. Following his gaze, her heart leaps to her throat at the sight of its target: Boromir, with an arrow sticking out his shoulder. With the orc too far to directly confront before it could release the arrow, Anna whips her arm and hurls the knife through the air.

Out of sheer luck, the orc had decided to take one extra second to line up the shot. In that delay his elbow is hit by the handle of the dagger, throwing off his aim and involuntarily causing the arrow to be released, which flies through the air, and into a fellow orc. Turning its head, the lead orc, Lurtz, finds Anna charging with a sword. Tossing its bow aside, he rushes to get a sword out, but Anna gets there too fast and stabs forward. Twisting its body, Lurtz forces her sword to slide off the plated armor. Not counting on this, Anna's momentum causes her to collide with him, sending both of them tumbling down the hill. After a few seconds, they separate, with Lurtz pushing Anna away and further down the slope. With a roar, he chases after Anna, who had just stopped herself.

Glancing up, Anna is just able to bring her sword around to block. The force of the blow knocks her off balance though, and she falls further back. Another orc decides to jump into the fray, but receives a sword through the gut for its troubles, Anna having reacted much faster this time around. Adrenaline overpowers any thoughts of regret and keeps in her action. She tugs back on the sword, but finds her blade stuck deep within the orc. She struggles to withdraw it, but the moment it's freed she receives a blow to her back, shooting her to the ground. Anna quickly rolls away from her position just as a sword strikes the spot where she was. Crouched, she readies her own attack only to see the a sword pierce through the orcs neck, with Boromir standing behind it. He shoves the body to the ground and twists his body to parry an attack from Lurtz. They trade blows equally, but it is apparent that the arrow is slowing Boromir down.

Unsheathing her other sword, Anna charges into the fray, attacking with a double diagonal strike. Caught by surprise, Lurtz can only brace for impact as blows from two sides beat on its armor. It retreats defensively for a few more assaults, in search of an opportunity to counter. When he spots an opening, Lurtz swings his fist into Anna's side. With a loud, "Oof!" Anna flies back a few feet, losing one of her swords. As she rises to one knee, an orc grab her arms and restrains them behind her back, forcing the other sword our of her grip. She attempts to kick out, but another orc quickly has her legs in its grasp. Anna squirms in their hold, but finds them too strong to get any leeway.

A hit to the throat prevents her from being able to shout, as Anna spends the next few minutes with ragged and labored breath. She has a brief glimmer of hope as two hobbits, Merri and Pippin, attempt to tackle the orcs carrying her, but they do little to hinder her now captors. To further quash her hopes, a pair of orcs scoop up the two of them and join the group that now surrounds the ones carrying her. The sounds of Boromir fighting are quickly lost to the passing trees as these orcs run from the fight with their captives.

Meanwhile...

At the moment Elsa shouted "CHARGE!" she never looked back. What started as fierce determination gradually melted into adrenaline and excitement. She found elation in this almost unrestricted use of her powers, bolstered by her rejuvenated arm. A swipe of her sword can be followed a flying blast of magic that can hit targets at a distance. A stomp of her foot and large, sharp icicles pierce anything in her vicinity that she chooses. She can even catch their swords, almost, with her hand at such a low temperature that the metal shatters on impact. Elsa found her excitement surge when she heard an orc shout "Find the halfling! Find the witch!" Elsa raced to a nearby peak to stare down the running orcs, a wide smile adorned on her.

"You want the witch?" She shouts, the group stopping to look in her direction, to find Elsa with her hand in the air and a violent whirl of ice and snow above her head. "Then come and get her!" She hurls her violent magic at the orcs, who scatter in a frenzy. The area where the magic hits erupts into a mix of a blizzard and an avalanche. Snow and ice fly fast in all directions, and anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast zone quickly succumb to the sheer cold and drop in temperature. A good twenty orcs fall on the spot.

Spurred on with this success, her onslaught continues in an almost blissful trance. The one aspect of her magic that Elsa had been afraid of losing control over was now free, and of all things she couldn't imagine feeling better. Any self-reflection on what this says about her personally are pushed away in order to take down more. No, to defend herself from the assault, of course. Although Elsa does find it strange that she hadn't seen any member of the fellowship since Anna.

Running into a clearing, she stops at the sights of a lone and very intimidating looking orc. Taller by at least two heads than any of its brethren, this orc also wears the thickest and most elaborate armor of any foe Elsa has encountered so far. Each piece is black as coal, with sharp edges on the gauntlets, cuisse, and greaves, plus multiple layers of breastplates and cuirass. The helmet is a barbute with a few spikes crafted on top. In the parts that are not covered with armor, a thick and heavy cloth material covers the body. Numerous spiral shaped designs are carved all over the armor, every one a dark red color. Elsa has a brief thought that either this orc was given a deluxe set from Sauraman himself, or is unrelated to the orcs completely.

Drawing its sword, a long and completely straight blade, the orc uses one arm to point at Elsa in challenge. Something is off about this sword though, as it appears to shimmer. Elsa readies her own weapon, and nods. Lowering the sword back to its body, the orc brings out what appears to be a flint. In a swift motion, the orc strikes its sword and sparks fly. In a flash, the sword is alight in fire, making the blade come alive in a dance of red and orange. Still not breaking its gaze at Elsa, who's mouth has dropped open in shock, the orc grasps its burning sword with two hands, and charges.

The first blow from the orc breaks her sword into pieces when Elsa tries to parry the strike, and the fiery blade nicks the edge of her armor. To her complete surprise, this causes her icy protection to burst into flames. Before she can attempt to put out the combusting ice, the orc strikes with a slash across her chest, knocking her to the ground and shattering the armor covering her torso and shoulders, which also snuffs out the flame. With the wind knocked out of her, Elsa is just barely able to raise a thick dome shield to stop the next strike. Fortunately for her, it holds, but there are numerous cracks after the blow. It is all she can manage for the next few seconds to maintain this shield as the orc rains attack after attack on her ice dome, the cracks spreading and growing larger with each strike.

Finally managing to catch her breath and get better focus, Elsa takes the moment the orc rears back for another attack to dissolve the shield and send a blast of ice right at the orc's middle, causing it to stagger backwards, slightly off balance. Rushing forward, Elsa creates another sword, this one thicker than the previous weapon, and attempts to begin her own flurry of attacks, while forgetting that she is still in a vulnerable state without her amor. However, her first strike merely bounces off the armor and sends a strong, painful jolt through her arms that nearly causes her to drop the sword. In response, the orc kicks her in the stomach, and causing her to fly through the air for a few feet before striking the ground again.

With the feeling of bile rise in her throat, it is instinct that takes control when Elsa spots the combusting sword being thrusted at her heart. With only to twitch a finger of her left hand, another shield of ice rises in the way of the sword, practically stopping the strike in its path, the tip bumping her just below the heart. Continuing with another twitch, Elsa wills the ice to continue growing and ensnares one of the orcs hands completely, stopping her attacker in its tracks. For a moment, the only movement comes from the flames emanating from the sword, before they begin to consume the ice. None of this appears to do little to impede the towering orc, for it uses the hand which is free to reach for a dagger and begins to bring it downwards

Panicking, Elsa uses her free hand to unleash a blast of magic, which sails past the approaching hand and strikes the orc right in the heart. With the dagger just an inch away from her face, the orc stops completely. As the fire continues to consume the ice holding the sword, and nearing the point of freeing the weapon, the orc slowly raises its arm once more to stab at Elsa, but just as the orc raises its hand high into the air, it once again stops and becomes rigid.

Before her very eyes, Elsa watches in horror as the large orc turns completely into ice, armor and all. Even the sword of fire cannot fight off the cold magic. One final breath escapes the orc, and Elsa finds herself staring at just the third being she has turned fully into ice. Before any implications about this can develop in her mind, a sharp pain arises from her midsection. Looking down, she is shocked to find the very tip of sword embedded just below her heart, and the surrounding flesh partially singed. She touches the sword gingerly, finding that it refuses to budge, held firmly in place by the frozen orc. She squeezes on the blade, using her magic to send cracks along the sword. With a clench of her fist, the sword shatters, although the tip still remains in her chest. Elsa merely melts that part into water and begins to focus on the gaping hole her body now sports.

Wincing, Elsa decides to freeze the wound shut for the tie being. After sealing the gap, Elsa finds herself alone. At first, all seems quiet, but after a few seconds she hears the clashing of swords, and heads off, slowly, in that direction. At the top of a hill, she sees Aragorn beheading Lurtz, and when the orc falls so does the ranger's arms. A short distance away, she sees Legolas kneeling over someone on the ground with Gimli standing nearby, but she can't make out who is laying down. Sliding down the hill on improvised ice sled, she glides to a stop next to the elf to see him tending to Boromir, who is clutching at an arrow in his leg, never mind the one piercing his shoulder.

"Here, let me assist." Elsa bends down to the wound in his leg, and grasps the shaft of the arrow, to the shocked looks of three men around her. Looking Boromir in the eye, she attempts to get him ready, "Now, I can only promise that this will probably hurt, but not how much." Before he can protest, she freezes the arrow, eliciting a gasp from Boromir, from the tip to the fletch. With a squeeze, it shatters into icy crumbs. Using her other hand, she wills the chunks still in the leg to slowly leave the wound, pausing at times where Boromir winced. After a few minutes, the process exasperated by her own wound, the last of the arrow has left his leg. Placing her land on his leg, she applies a bit of ice over the wound to keep it temporarily closed.

Elsa reaches for the arrow in Boromir's shoulder, but he holds up his hand to stop her. "Please, my lady, I would prefer to handle this one." Taking a strong grip on the shaft, which draws an inquisitive look from Elsa, he inhales deeply before yanking the arrow free, accompanied by a pained grunt. Panting, he points to his shoulder, "Now you may work your magic." He utters without a hint of humor. Similar to his leg, Elsa only applies enough to keep it closed for the time being. "They've got them."

Boromir is looking to Aragorn, but has also gained the attention of the other three. "The little ones, they got the little ones." Aragorn has bent down to see Boromir eye to eye, with Elsa moving to make room. To the side, a glint catches her eye. Looking over, she spots a dagger, one that is eerily familiar.

"Who? Who did they take?" Asks Aragorn, fearing for the worst.

"Merri, Pippin. They were fighting and we taken away." His breathing is haggard, and the struggle is bringing tears to his eyes.

Paying attention with one ear, Elsa has bent over to pick up the dagger, which she recognizes as a piece she commissioned for -

"And Anna. They have Lady Anna."

There is a loud snap as the temperature plummets. A small wind starts to whirl around Elsa as she slowly turns around to face Boromir. "What?" She has a stern look on her face, nearly on the brink of wrath.

"Forgive me, Lady Elsa. She helped me in the fight, but they took her away as well." His face etched with regret, Boromir wants nothing more to stare into the ground, but knows he cannot look away.

Louder than the snap before, a thunderclap bursts from Elsa, a wave of magic surging forth. The small wind has erupted into a maelstrom, and any form of ice and snow, along with all lighter objects, start whipping around in chaos. The four men raise their arms to shield themselves, but somehow not a single piece of debris hits them. Between his fingers, Aragorn sees a sight that lasts no more than a flash which sears into his mind: Elsa's hair goes from it's pure white blonde to a black darker than night. As soon as it shows, it's just as quickly gone.

For minutes, the violent magic rages. None of the men can approach Elsa, for the forces are too violent to get anywhere close. Shouting is also futile, as their voices are wretched out of their throats before they can even speak.

Eventually, the chaos begins to subside, with debris starting to fall from the air and slow to a breeze with small bits of snow and ice. After a few more moments, all is calm, and Elsa addresses them. "Why though, why Anna?" Her voice is cold, but not without a hint of pleading.

"Those orcs were told to find a hobbit and a witch. With Merri and Pippin it's easy to see why they were taken." Aragorn answers, his voice soft to ease Elsa.

"Perhaps they think Anna is also capable of magic. Although since she cannot, it is also possible for Sauron to use her against you." Says Legolas as he looks towards where the Orcs ran off, already following their footsteps.

The ice and snow flare briefly before subsiding as Elsa takes in a deep breath. The breeze has stopped, although the snow and ice remain in the air, "It seems so long ago that I joined this quest to help you, and for the opportunity to get home." There is an air of tranquility around her, with a hint of the residing rage simmering beneath. "But now?" Elsa looks towards the southeast, where Mordor lays in the far off distance, "I am going to kill that son of a bitch."

A certain blue star, who's shine captivated Gandalf and numerous other Middle Earth individuals attentions these past few months, would darken that night, spreading a sense of doubt and fear among those watching. Elsewhere, Sauron fixes his gaze to the Northwest, as for the first time in months, he senses his ring once again. The connection is tiny, yet it is all he needs.

Author's Note: Many thanks to the user Northern Dunedain for getting me off my ass that didn't feel inspired to write this. Also to the readers who have been very patient in waiting for this chapter. I hope you enjoy it.