The hate, which I felt for the traitor, was matched only with my regret. How she had fallen into the trap of Saruman, I knew not, but I felt a pricking at my heart that I could have prevented this torture, this mad suffering that had been her fate. How I could have, I knew not, but the stabbing did not leave me. If one member of my house must fall into the grasp of evil, then let it be me. Not the Evenstar and her light. Anything but her. Anything but…

I had no use, no purpose in life. I still held not the answer to why I was placed here, and what part I would play in the course of the future. My sister did. She was to bring these lands joy and to dwell in Gondor and rule beside her beloved. I? I had nothing. Nothing excepting what my sister had graciously given to me. Nothing else. I had brought more despair than happiness, created more hate then love, more havoc then peace. My sister was on the other hand…and he had taken her. Saruman had captured Arwen and was slowly suffocating her, forcing the once dancing flames to fade to dying ashes. My heart twisted. If I was too late…I would never forgive myself. I had already failed her once to a death of pain and misery. I could not do such again. I would not repeat my fatal mistake. Regret tore at me with a knife and I cast my head low. I could have saved her…I should have gone in place of her. She was worth everything, and I… nothing. If I had been in her position, then at least Middle Earth would have had no reason for mourning. I was naught and my death would have caused no more than a slight ripple in this sea of grievous events. My death…grievous? Grievous to whom? Not to myself…but perhaps, maybe, to others. Perhaps…

Yet the Evenstar…the world had dimmed with her loss, and she had returned. How, I knew not. It was with all the questions I held without answers. But how long would she remain here, her life at stake, placed under the mercy of the merciless one? How long could she endure this lasting torment? For how long?

The distressing answer came swiftly and chilled my heart. Not long. Not long at all. Days, at the most. I had seen her in my dream-like state. None could last through such an ordeal she suffered. And when were the images from? Days past? Weeks bygone? Fortnights departed? Desperation for haste threw my fragile calmness into utter chaos and panic.

“Steed! I name you in this moment ‘Hope’ for it is in your speed that hope shall come. I beg of you, creature of Rohan, fly! Fly with all strength you hold! For her life depends on it…her life depends on it…” I trailed off and stared into the distance, towards the black pinnacle, towards the dark traitor, and towards the fading light that could go out and leave these shores forever in mere moments. Hope tossed her mane and increased her swiftness, with a determined glint in her steady eye. Dear Valar, I pray I be not too late. I pray she would hold out until my arrival. I ask of nothing more. Nothing more…