Sorry, complications meant i had to reload.

Chapter One

Lady Galadriel had sent her away early for the first time in, well, ever, and it was then that Naomi knew that something important was happening. She spent all of her time under the Lady of Lothlorien, and for her to be dismissed halfway through the day bespoke something of interest.

In all her years in Lothlorien, Naomi had served directing the lady. And in all of those years, she had spent the same amount of time folding linens, brushing hair, and setting out clothing. This, however, was different.

The very hallways spoke of great unrest. While usually Naomi roamed the halls alone, today they were alive with elves and humans, all of them convinced that their chore was more important than the next. Even those few who would have acknowledged her presence brushed past her in their hurry.

Naomi often felt herself ignored. She could even turn it to her own advantage, when she felt as if she couldn't bear any attention. At a thought, Naomi could blend into the walls, or tapestries, or anything that took her fancy as a good hiding place.

Thus, Naomi heard many things that she probably shouldn't have. She knew more secret ways through the wooded-city than someone who had lived there their entire life. Naomi was a secret-keeper, in a way. She knew more than she should, and stored it away for a future use that never came.

Although everyone rushed out of the tree-place into the square, Naomi found herself pushing against the tide towards her chamber in one of the smaller trees. She was the only human in direct service of the Lord or Lady, and because of it she lived in a somewhat different setting than her fellow species, or workers.

Her status also provided her with little companions. Her lack of friends or allies led to her discovery of her skills. It also meant that not many remembered her. This was incredibly useful.

Hardly pausing to wonder what had called all the ruckus, she finally arrived at her chamber. It was bare and small, but she had it to herself. This was more an act of exile than anything else; most elves would not be caught soiling themselves with the presence of a human.

Even if she was a maidservant of Lady Galadriel's.

She took a single look around the chamber, its small bed and even smaller wardrobe, and felt a deep pang in her chest for the familiar sight of the river flowing through the forest. Naomi turned away from the sight, and returned to the busy hustle and bustle.

The river was one of the best keep secrets of the woods. Naomi was sure that only she and the lady knew of it's existence – the lady because she used it's water for her mirror, and Naomi because she had stumbled upon it by accident. Naomi found most of her secrets by accident.

Naomi saw her closest friend of Lothlorien – not that that meant them to be incredibly close --, Manaeth, rushing past her with her arms full of bedding linens, mumbling to herself. Unlike the others, she noticed Naomi and stopped.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped. (Again, 'closest friend' didn't mean a lot). "Surely you, too, have chores. " Naomi was about to respond; her only chores were attending to Lady Galadriel, Manaeth knew that; but her friend stormed off, muttering about those who worked far less than they deserved.

Naomi, confused, walked after her friend in surprise. There was a large gathering of elves, mostly nobility, around the steps up to the palace. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were standing at the top, looking for all the world like the loveliest pair of people to ever grace the planet.

She had planned to slip down the steps, and into the forest, but it was now blocked. Naomi turned and began to melt into the palace, determined to find another exit, but something in the air, humming along her skin, caused her to stop.

Don't go, whispered a strange mind her head. It's voice was silky and winded like a serpent around her consciousness.

Then it vanished.

Somewhat mollified now that she knew of all the trouble, Naomi sunk into the background of palace. Manaeth rushed by her hiding place, still muttering, still clutching linens to her chest. Naomi silently thanked the grace of the Vala for her gift of hiding.

It held little place in her heart, but she knew that not believing in the Vala would make her even more of an outcast. Her disbelief was buried so deeply in her heart that she was sure even Galadriel could not pry the secret from her.

Suddenly a group of scruffy men appeared at the bottom of the steps. The first in Naomi's line of vision was a muddy and soiled-looking man with stringy hair. The way Lady Galadriel welcomed him; he was obviously someone of importance.

Naomi's nose wrinkled. Her time with the creatures of grace made her despise dirt with most of her soul.

Following close behind was another man, taller but nevertheless dirty, a miffed dwarf, four figures which were, if it was possible, even shorter than Naomi's five feet, and possibly the most beautiful elf Naomi had ever seen.

All were of desperate need of a bath, and Naomi had an inkling of pity for Manaeth's clean linen bed sheets.

She watched the elf with confusion. He was blonde and beautiful, and while slightly scruffy, still cleaner than his companions. His long hair gleamed. As his blue eyes slid over her hiding place she held her breath, but nothing came of it.

"Welcome, Fellowship of the Ring," smiled Galadriel, and with her incredible talent for understating, she had the entire group under her spell, including the hidden Naomi.

They exchanged pleasantries, and smiled and talked as if they were all old friends, but for the ten or so years that Naomi had been a servant of Lady Galadriel, she had seen none of them.

"But where is Lord Gandalf?" questioned Celeborn, and the fellowship grew silent. "I had wished to speak to him."

"Gandalf fell into the void," replied the leader, and the beautiful lord's face fell. Naomi's insides twisted painfully. She had always been particularly sensitive to the feelings of elves, having grown up around them but never being a part of them.

There was an awkward silence that seemed out of place with the bright trees and glittering elves. The small creatures shifted from left to right.

"My maidservant will show you to your rooms, and a fresh bath," smiled Galadriel, brightening the mood. She turned to the dark corner where Naomi was hiding and inclined her head slightly.

Shocked, Naomi twisted her head around her, but no one with the title of maidservant was near. The nobility fixed their impassive eyes on her.

Blushing red at the failure of her deception, Naomi stepped out of the shadows. There was a small hallway open between the elven bystanders, and she moved through it to the lady's side.

"Take them to the guest chambers," whispered Galadriel. Naomi's head, still flushed, nodded.

"It is alright, Lady Galadriel," spoke up the leader. "We see no need to trouble your servants unnecessarily. We can sleep on the forest floor." Naomi bit back her instinctive reply that the servants had already been troubled.

"Of course, whichever you prefer," nodded the lady. Naomi stepped down the steps and around the fellowship to guide them. The back of her neck itched, and she knew that her mistress was watching her leave.

She doesn't like you, whispered the traitorous voice in her head. Naomi was beginning to doubt that it was her own.

The tree-houses melted away, and they had left the palace grounds when the dwarf looked at her. "You're not an elf," he said, and though Naomi had no doubt he meant to say it softly, it echoed through the trees. She winced, and felt the tale-tell fire burn it's way from her neck to her forehead. Luckily she wasn't facing him, or the beautiful he-elf, or Naomi's entire body would have surely been drowned in the embarrassing color.

"I serve Lady Galadriel," she replied, and the words that were quietly shot out seemed to be accepted.

The color was still in place as, an eternity later, she led them into a glen that was used at times to set up tents for when the Lady Galadriel felt the need to sleep near her place of magic.

"I'll send Manaeth along with bedding and some tubs," she muttered, and made to flee. Fleeing seemed a proper choice of action for the current situation. Unfortunately, she had to flee right through the group. Her head down, to prevent the view of her pink face, she didn't see where she was going and bounced off the beautiful elf.

She twirled away in a motion that probably looked graceful but was really more of a fall. The elf's hand stopped her fall, his long fingers hooked around her fore arm, as she lay almost parallel to the ground. She scrambled up quickly, his hand still firmly attached to her arm. She pried the slim fingers off quickly, their incredible strength obvious. He was surely an archer.

Her face now approximately the color of berries, she flew out into the forest, towards the river that flowed away from the forest-city.

Coward, hissed the voice, and like a viper it stuck it's fingers deep into her mind and twisted. The pain was horrible, and Naomi collapsed on the forest floor. She clutched her head, the pounding and clinging shaking her vision and with it her balance.

She finally laid her head against the tree, and let the harsh bark scrape against her skin and cool her mind. The voice had vanished, like it had before.

What's happening to me? her mind asked, and this time it was her own thoughts.

What indeed?

Well, new fic.

All rejoice.