"Beuren!"
"Gandalf, tell me what's going...AH!" She clutched her head, shrieking as she fell from the horse. The Wizard dove off after her, barely catching her before she hit the ground. He eased her into the grass as she went ridged, then the fit started. He fought to hold her steady as she thrashed about. Blood seeped from her ears and nose, she coughed up blood on numerous occasions.
"If you can hear me, help. She is in danger." Gandalf muttered into the breeze. "She needs your help." When she finally relaxed, Gandalf pushed her hair out of her face and rolled her on her side to keep her from choking on anymore blood she might have tried to vomit.
A few minutes passed and Beuren finally came to. Gandalf sat her up, leaning her against his legs as he rummaged through his rations for a bladder of water he'd filled. He offered her water, but she was staring weakly in the opposite direction. Her ears twitched, head swayed as she fought to hold her head up. He crouched beside her.
"What do you hear?"
"There's more to the story." She croaked, tears brimming her eyes. "Azog, he said he had a master."
"The necromancer."
"What?"
"Beuren, I don't suppose you know anything of Morgual Blades?" Her eyes widened, this seemed to sober her a little.
"Only the deadliest of them all. And buried with the-"
"Nine." Gandalf interrupted. "Something is amiss in Middle Earth." He spoke quietly. "Something evil rises in the Greenwood. Radagast the Brown has mentioned a necromancer in Dol Guldur."
"An evil has lied in Dol Guldur once before." She clung to his robes as everything around her began spinning. "But he's dead. Sauron is dead." She groaned.
"And the ring?"
"It was lost when Isildur was attacked. It hasn't been seen nor heard of in many years. Gandalf do you understand what-" Her head snapped to their left, ears twitching. "Frerin?" Gandalf looked about, no one stood where she was looking. "Frerin?" She tried to stand. Gandalf forced her to stay down.
"Beuren, you are hallucinating, I need you to focus." She moaned, clutching at her head again.
"Annatar, it's making since now." She took a shaky breath. "Annatar was Sauron, he tricked the elves into making the Rings of Power." Beuren cried out once more. "Arathorn, shut up, please!" Gandalf prayed that they had heard his call. "Gandalf it's him. It has to be. Gandalf, he's back." She sobbed against the pain in her head, she began coughing up more blood. "Gandalf I'm sorry."
"Hold on a bit longer, Beuren."
"Mithrandir?" He turned, looking back over his shoulder. "You called?"
"For your brothers, yes, but you will have to do." The elf looked down at Beuren.
"Beuren?"
"My lady?" Gandalf removed his cloak, wrapping Beuren in it the best he could.
"It's a few days ride to Imladris."
"You, my lady, are not taking her to your father." He lifted Beuren into his arms, placing her in the saddle before the elf. "She needs Galadriel. Galadriel's light is all that can save her now."
"Yes, Mithrandir."
"And Arwen," She turned to look down at him. "Send word to Strider, he needs to know to watch his back." Arwen gave one last nod before taking up her reins.
"Noro lim Asfaloth!"