Race against Time

Oneshot

All four traveling companions knew at exactly the same moment that something terrible had happened.
The head of the horse Silmaril flew up, the falcon Fion almost fell from the tree and the wolf Gawad jumped up so violently that he tore the blanket with him.
Their mistress Alea looked like a ringwraith, she was pale enough.

"Strider",  she whispered in horror.

Then she grabbed her blanket, threw it over Silmaril's dew-drenched saddle, and jumped on it. She didn't need a signal, not a word, the stallion sped off as if it had been stabbed, Gawad on his heels. Fion raced above them through the night sky and took the lead.
Alea, who usually sat firmly in the saddle even at top speed, was now standing in the stirrups and had leaned her forehead on the neck of her black stallion. She spoke to him in Elvish, imploring him to run faster than ever before.

"Noro lim, my dear Steed, noro lim. Run, my dear Companion, run as fast as the Wind. There is a Life at stake!"

And the black obeyed without hesitation and sped without pausing, faster than even a Mearas from Rohan could have run. There were no longer any obstacles for the dark horse, it did not even hesitate to jump over the back of a fellow of its own.
And he wasn't really sorry that the rider was torn from the saddle. When said Rider let out a loud scream, Alea clung to Silmaril's mane and shouted: 

"Noro lim, Silmaril, run!"

The black stallion snorted and tried harder to gallop as fast as possible. Gawad raced next to him, sometimes after him and got everything out of his four paws.
For two days the four companions hunted northwest as if Morgoth himself were after them with his warhammer, then, finally, the weathertop came into view.
Alea leaned half over her stallion's neck, put a hand on his neck and shouted: "Feanor!"
At that word, Silmaril seemed to stretch, thinning, as if to shoot through the north winds. The black horse passed the road like a racing arrow and jumped up the steep slope with great leaps.
It was a real miracle that the exhausted horse did not fall, or even stumble, on this ride in hell. Even the Rohirrim would have said that such a ride was impossible at this rate, but Alea knew her stallion.
In dire need he ran as if he had wings.

Fion circled high above Weathertop, screeching angry, worried, and combative.

With one mighty leap, the wolf and the stallion climbed the last stretch of the slope and while Silmaril stumbled to a halt, Alea swung from his back and stormed towards the bound figure on the ground, her sword in one and a tuft of Athelas in the other Hand.

Aragorn was startled from a restless sleep when someone called his name. A wonderfully familiar scent entered his nostrils and the pain in his arm was less severe.
The poison was not gone, but its effects seemed diminished.
He opened his eyes, expecting to look into any Elf's - Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel were most likely - but instead stared into the white and yellow fangs of a large wolf with fur like icy slate. The beast had a mouth odor and was panting right in his mouth and nose.
THAT had probably woken him up earlier than the voice.
Aragorn grumbled, the wolf squeaked happily and drooled all across his face.

"Urgs ...."

Someone laughed.

"Gawad, leave it. He's awake, you don't need to wash him. "

Wagging it's Tail, the wolf stepped back a few steps and now Aragorn also saw who had given him a respite from the poison.
A young ranger with long, tousled hair and green eyes that sparkled worriedly instead of cheeky in the firelight. Their simple clothing resembled those of the other rangers, except for a green hooded cloak of the kind used by southern rangers.
Everything about her stared with dirt, she must have had a terrible Ride behind her. This suspicion was confirmed by looking at her black horse, which was still breathing heavily.

"Hello, Alea," Aragorn greeted the familiar figure.

"Man, Strider!"

Laughing, Alea pulled him up and hugged him tightly.

"I was so scared for you ... please, please Estel, never do that again!"

Aragorn smiled.

"I'll try," he muttered and in turn threw his arms around the young woman, who was trembling with shock and exertion. "How did you find me in the first place?", he finally asked quietly.

Alea smiled slightly and pointed to the snow-colored hawk that was just settling on the ground.

"Fion led us. I was so scared that we wouldn't make it ... "

She seemed to sink into thoughts of her violent Journey.
Suddenly she clapped her hands over her mouth in shock and began to giggle indefinitely.

"You... I think we have ridden down a Black Rider!" 

She told him what she meant and Aragorn also laughed freely. It was good to know Alea by his side, she could make you laugh even in the darkest hour.
For a while they sat in silence, spooning soup from a bowl.

"You ... you already know that I'm not off the hook yet?", Aragorn finally dared to ask.

He knew Alea, he knew she knew, but the Ranger sometimes tended to only think from morning to sunrise.
But not today, aperantly.

"Clear. But in your condition I first wanted to stuff something to eat into you and let Silmaril rest. After all, my horse is not made of steel. We'll set off for Rivendell in the morning."

Aragorn smiled in relief. Confidently he leaned next to Alea against the flank of the great black horse and felt how Gawad snuggled fearlessly against him.
These four madmen ...

Frodo was sitting with Elrond and Gandalf to report to them when another Elf stormed into the room. He paid no attention to the hobbit, but first gasped for air.
This reaction did not surprise Frodo, after all they had only been here yesterday. The Elf Glorfindel had picked them up with some comrades and brought them to Rivendell on horseback.
He knew the Elf, however, by seeing him, hadn't he wanted to look for Strider? Why was he now shining like the sun?

"Elladan?"

Elrond was confused too. And Frodo especially now, he could have sworn that the Elf's name was Elrohir.

"It's Alea, father! She came down the path just as we were about to leave. Silmaril must have flown, come quickly! "

Elrond jumped out of his chair as if something had bitten him and charged after the Elf. Gandalf and Frodo followed.

There was a lot of excitement in the courtyard of the house, the horses of the search party were completely confused and sometimes shied. In their midst stood a deep black stallion who reminded Frodo of the horses of the nine. However, this horse only wore a light saddle and a simple bridle and next to him stood a figure that was dressed similarly to Aragorn. The rider gasped and the black foamed and sweated as if they had raced like the devil for hours or even days. Frodo discovered the reason for this almost immediately: Strider had just been lifted onto a stretcher by some Elves and brought to the Healing Rooms.Frodo beamed with relief.

"He made it!"

Gandalf smiled too, relieved. The ranger - it had to be one, only rangers wore such clothing - seemed to have heard Frodo. He handed the reins to an elf and stormed up the stairs to Frodo and Gandalf. The hobbit swallowed when he noticed the big wolf following the man. But the animal looked too exhausted to be dangerous. The ranger paused like a deer before Gandalf and threw back his hood. Frodo was surprised to see that he was looking at a young woman, not a man, who was now speaking to Gandalf in hasty Elvish and handing him a strange-looking sword hilt. She spoke so fast that Frodo hardly understood a word. The wizard replied briefly and then left too. The young woman looked at Frodo curiously.

"You must be Frodo Baggins, the ring bearer. Strider told me about you."

Frodo smiled uncertainly.

"I would like to thank you, but ... I don't even know your name."

The Ranger returned the smile.

"Well, that can be changed. My name is Alea Stormfalcon and this stubborn ranger Strider is my brother. "