I run, my wolfish form plunging through the river that bordered Imladris, known in the common tongue as Rivendell. My head swims, and I wonder if I am being completely and utterly stupid. I truly hope not. What else could I do? Go against the invitations to a council that would determine the fate Middle Earth? Absolutely not- that would be to go against everything my race has worked for.

It had been a long while since we started feeling the unease in the soil, in nature itself. It was as if something horribly evil had shifted, awakened. And we learned the reason for this: all of Middle Earth stirs with unrest, for the ring of power has been found. That, after all is the reason I am here, in the home of my enemies. Elrond had...bravery in sending a message to us. To us, whose ancestors had threatened to destroy the elves. And who could.

My head stings, and my wolf gives a low whine of discomfort. I shake my head slightly, keeping a firm hold on the weapons wrapped in leather in my mouth.

"My lady! Are you alright?" my companion, Meli, says in my head, thanks to our mental bond. His bobcat glances at me curiously.

"I am fine, thanks. Just preparing to meet them again," I answer.

The moment I step on the earth of the elves, I feel weakened. Even the earth here hates us, the Madges. Light footsteps approach us, and in a whirl of light and wind, we transform into our human forms. Meli is lithe but muscular, with thick dirty blonde hair and bright green eyes which shine with an unearthly.

He smiles, "Beautiful as ever, my lady."

I give him a saccharine smile, "And a flatterer as ever, my friend." He knows that I dislike compliments on my form. After all, what have I done to earn them? The glory that comes with fighting well due to intense training, the honor of an award given due to a courageous act, these I value more than mere superficial beauty. And Meli knows that, but does he stop? No. Of course not. Like he doesn't stop calling me my title.

I glance down to my brother's outfit- dark blue hunter trousers and shirt, paired with black knee-length boots- making sure all my clothes are straightened and presentable. My dark, wavy black hair is in a thick braid down my back as always, my silver band in my head set with an ebony-black colored stone. The footsteps come closer, and the elf, Lindir, bows low before me, stiffly.

"The council has started. Please follow me, princess," he says, my grey eyes meeting his. There is no animosity in his glance. Only unease. I'm amazed at the politeness of the elves everyday. It makes them harder to hate, but also harder to trust. Their politeness unarms you, and they could be feeding you lies in a soft voice, almost lov- I stop my train of thought. It will do me no good now.

I nod graciously and follow him through the valley, Meli beside me. I know where everything is in this place, having learned of the location from the maps in the place library. Maps of war, made during the Great Elven Battles, made in secret, with information given by spies. I laugh inwardly. I wonder if Lord Elrond would have invited me if he knew of them. Perhaps not.

As I thought, Lindir leads us along the winding paths to Rivendell's most hidden meeting place. Lindir bows to his lord, and to me before departs. As I calmly walk in, I feel everyone's gaze fixed on me. I face Elrond and bow to him so lowly that it borders on ridicule.

"Ah! Princess Katari! Welcome! Please, sit down!" he greets me, gesturing to one of the empty chairs which make a semi-circle around him. The courtesy of the elves never lacks.

I straighten and look over the members. As I guessed, almost everyone here is royalty, or at least important. Some of the greatest dwarves from both Erebor and the Blue Mountains - looking suspicious and uncomfortable. I pause before them, and bow low, respectfully. The Madges and dwarves have always been allies, and we will continue to be. I can remember the battles we fought together- Moria, the Battle of the Six Armies- and I smile as I recognized some of the dwarves I fought alongside. Gloin. Dwalin. Nori. They smile back.

I glance at the other members. The man Boromir, favored son of the steward, an arrogant princeling. I met his brother, and was stunned that he was in anyway related to this...

Gandalf the Grey, my traitor uncle. One of my favorite memories come to mind, before I met the elves, before I even ventured out of our castle on the Capitoline Hill. Uncle's there in the courtyard with me on his lap, conjuring fire butterflies to fly around me. One flutters near my finger, and to Uncle's and my parent's surprise, I urge it to alight on my finger, and do so successfully. I don't burn myself, and thus we discovered my aptitude for fire. But as suddenly as it came, another moment comes to me; more recent and sadder. Uncle's on his knees before the Senate, and I see my mother's face as they declare him banished. She shattered. She knows she can't protest, and when he leaves she discovers the missing enchantment book. She screams then collapses.

And Legolas. Legolas. His name swirls in my mind, together with tender caresses, and loving words. A sunny day, with horses racing through thick woods. A meadow beside a lake, with a small boat...I push all thoughts about him away, and it's not easy at all.

A another man is there, rugged, with a wild, yet royal air around him. I'm curious. I know most of the Dunedain,the Rangers, which he clearly is, but I don't know him. He sits perfectly still, content in simply listening. But I think that he is a man of energy once he is provoked. Like a sleeping predator.

Only one stands out from the crowd. Only one still innocent. One who has not felt the gnawing teeth of war. He is Frodo, a Hobbit. I had always admired that race- simple, resilient, comfortable. What is his place here? What his role in this ugly war?

"Hello, Uncle," I greet Gandalf, a slightly mocking at the title. "Mother has vowed to imprison you."

He glares. I smile. Stares come from everyone, and I make my way over to the remaining seat. The seat is near Legolas. Of course. Meli, sensing my discomfort, stands besides me reassuringly, placing his hand on my shoulder in a show of quiet support. From the corner of my eye, I think I see Legolas' hand clench into a fist. But it's just wishful thinking, stupid hoping.

"Strangers from distant lands," he pauses, glancing around. "Friends of old," I snort at this. " You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." The name of the cursed land echoes ominously. "Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite," He looks at me and the dwarves. Or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate...this one doom..." Elrond trails off, and looks toward the small hobbit. " Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

The little hobbit stands up, and I hear myself gasp in astonishment. He was in possession of the Ring? He looks haggard, pale, like the ring was drawing his energy away from him. It probably was. Poor little one.

Frodo pads over to the stone Plinth and sets a simple golden ring on it. If not for the very evil power that surrounded and lurked in it, I would have assumed that it was an ordinary trinket. Useless. Everyone here probably wishes it was.

Gasps echo throughout the clearing.

"So it is true!" Boromir starts forward, amazed. But it is not only amazement that draws him: it is the ring's call to the weak son of men.

I hear Legolas beside me take a quick, sharp breath, "Sauron's Ring! The ring of power!"

"The doom of man!" a dwarf says, grimly, his face set. I think it's Gloin's son, Gimli.

Boromir speaks again, almost in a trance. "It is a gift...a gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay...by the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy...let us use it against him!"

I shake my head in disbelief. Men are so weak. "Be quiet, human. The ring is too evil, too full of Sauron to be of any use to us."

The Ranger speaks up, quietly, yet his voice carries over to Boromir, "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone...it has no other master."

I nod approvingly at him.

He glances at me in return, inclining his head.

Boromir sneers at us, "And what would a ranger know of this matter? Or a frail woman?"

I roll my eyes, but Meli shifts and speaks, while Legolas springs up, seconds between each. Meli growls, "Watch your tongue, cur. The 'frail woman' you speak of has bested monsters. She-"

I cut him off. "Satis." Enough. After a biting glare from me, Meli returns to his place.

"She is no mere woman. She is of the Madges' most secret Corona, and their warrior princess. And he is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Legolas says to Boromir.

I'm astonished. This is future king? I want to kneel before him, to pledge my friendship to the line of Isildur, as my people have done before me, but I stop myself. He probably knows nothing of the close friendship the Madges with the Kings of the White City long ago. Soon, I promise to myself. I will tell him.

Boromir turns to Aragorn, in disbelief, " Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas says, almost triumphantly.

"Havo dad, Legolas," Sit down. Aragorn murmurs.

Boromir stares still, " Gondor needs no king!"

Gandalf breaks through, anticipating the argument, "Aragorn and Katari are right...we cannot use it."

Elrond sweeps his gaze serenely over the company, "You have only one choice..the ring must be destroyed."

Gimi rushes forward," Then...what are we waiting for?" I know his intention, though, and freeze his arm and axe just as it is about to hit the ring.

"Enough of this foolishness, dwarf," I say with no anger. He steps back, and I release him.

Elrond breaks in again, "The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom; only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

The council sits in a stunned silence, before Boromir breaks it. " One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Legolas counters him, " Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed."

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli says, roughly. " I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

The one sentence causes the whole room to erupt in arguments, and only I see Frodo stand up and say in a clear voice, " I will take it. I will take it. I will take the Ring to Mordor." He looks around at the stunned faces. "Though...I do not know the way." He continues and Gandalf rises to his feet.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," He says gently.

Aragorn steps forward. " If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." He kneels before Frodo. "You have my sword."

He is soon followed by Legolas and Gimli, who offer him their weapons.

I only vaguely hear Boromir join, since my mind is otherwise occupied. Should I join? I know I should. My parents would approve, but do I want to join? Then I see Frodo' s expression, slightly scared, lost, but with a determination that makes me smile and want to applaud him.

I make my way over to the group. Meli's voice in my head is asking me to think my decision over. I reply with a simple I must. He doesn't reply.

I go before Frodo, "Little one, your burden is hard and you cannot carry that alone. If you need a hand, I am here, as are the Madges." I sigh, thinking of the hardships we were about to face. "I would be willing to join you, if you would accept me."

Frodo is just about to open his mouth when we hear a rustle in the bushes.

"Oi! Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me," another hobbit pops out from behind the bush, racing towards us. He comes to stand next to his friend, loyally. Good. Frodo needs all the help he can obtain.

Elrond's eyes twinkle with amusement, "No, Indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

Two more hobbits pop up from the bushes, and join the group. "Oi! We're coming too! You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," one says.

The other nods, " Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing..." he is nudged by the other hobbit.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip."

Frodo looks at me again, answering my question, "Yes, your highness. I would be honored."

I smile at him, "Call me Katari."

He grins in return, and his happy, innocent, if slightly haggard, expression gives me hope. If evil is to be destroyed, it would make sense for it to be destroyed by innocence and happiness. "Katari, it is then."

Elrond looks at us thoughtfully, "Ten companions; so be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." The words are a cry of defense against the threat of Mordor, and at the same time, a cry of hope. A Fellowship after all my years of only traveling with only one or two more Madges would be different, perhaps difficult. I shrug inwardly. At the very least it might be interesting.

"Great. Where are we going?" the one of the hobbits, Pip, says.

Nowhere, Pip. Only to the most dangerous place in all of Middle Earth.

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