“Open the gates!” a citadel gaurd called over the wall. Frodo and Elrohir, riding Asfaloth, approached the great gates of Minas Anor. “Now, Frodo, remember to show King Ellesar respect. He certainly deserves it.” Elrohir said to his small companion. Frodo nodded. They began racing up through the streets, towards the citadel. When they finally reached it, they dismounted and ascended the stairs up to the fountain court.
The sun shone brilliantly in the morning sky. Elrohir approached the doors, his small companion behind. The doors were opended by the citadel gaurds. Elrohir and Frodo entered into the hall of kings.
Daesarag made his way through the Abyss, searching for a sign of his brother’s inprisonment. On he moved, trying to ignore the undescribingly strange creatures of the Abyss.
A thin hand clapped on his shoulder. The Balrog whirled around to face the thing. The hand moved slowly back. In the fell light of the Balrog’s flame, the form of a thin, green eyed thing, about three times the hight of a man, that wore scaled armor was revealed. Its long fingers curling and uncurling, the thing hissed and spoke in a gentle voice: “Oh great valarauko of Melkor, I know what you seek. A brother. I know where he is. I know that you cannot find him without me. Is this not a matter that concerns you?” The Balrog stared at the thing. “What do you want of me, thing of the Abyss? And who are you to speak to me?” Daesarag inquired of the thing. Once again the creature spoke. But not in a gentle voice, but rather in a voice as cold as death. “I…..am…..the….the Hunter.”
The King and the Steward, Faramir, were conversing in talk when Frodo and Elrohir entered the Hall of Kings. They ceased conversing to look at the newcomers. “Hail, King Ellesar, lord of Arnor and Gondor. I, Elrohir, and my small friend bring tidings of the North to you.” Elrohir called to the King. Queen Arwen entered the chamber from a door behind the thrown, and sat down in her place of honor. “Is that… the Ring-bearer?” The King inquired. “No, O King, but he is of the same name. Come to think of it…” Elrohir turned to face his friend. “…he does look very much like him.” Frodo said nothing. “But there are much more important matters. Frodo is not missing a finger, and has no wounds as severe as the ring-bearer.” “So, let us hear the tidings!” Ellesar said.
To be continued…