Disclaimer: Tolkien’s Middle-earth, and all who dwell there… Kortirion’s just visiting.
She could only fight him from a distance... at present. With this in mind, her gifts to the Fellowship were for their aid, rather than his downfall; none among them had the strength to bear what she might place in heart and mind – even their greatest hope. No... she chose cloaks, belts, knives, practical things imbued with elven craft. That left one...
In her chamber, a small flask caught her eye; brought with her from Aman, treasured, once it held essence of flowers... now, bittersweet memories... It would do!
"In this phial is caught the light of Eärendil’s star... "