~*~* A/N: Do you know why I'm writing this? Do you? DO YOU? No, but I'll tell you: It's because I feel *SO* sorry for GIMLI! Poor Dwarf never gets the girls! And he's a great character, but no one loves him! I pity the poor lil' guy. Hence, I'm writing this. If it's a Mary Sue, I don't care. I don't think it is, but whatever. Even if it is, Gimli deserves a chick of his own. So... there. And yea, this is one of those "Girl In The Fellowship" stories. *AND* it's mostly movie-verse. Deal with it. I'm not tying you down, forcing you to read, am I? Nah, didn't think so. *~*~*~

~ Disclaimer: Pshah. If I owned any of the characters, especially Legolas, Aragorn, or the Hobbits, they'd be tied to my bed. :-P They're not mine. Also, a lot of the dialogue between the characters also is not mine; I've taken some from the movie. So sue me. No, wait, don't. :-P ~



She was silent, utterly silent; even when the ring was brought before them, even when the others rose and began to bicker and quarrel with one another, she remained silent, unmoving, her eyes upon the ring.

She was not pretty by any account; nor was she ugly, but rather plain, with long raven-black hair that hung straight down her shoulders to her midback, and eyes of the palest blue. She was the only woman at the Council, and was still clothed in armor; a chainmail breastplate and leggings, platemail sleeves, and steel boots. By her side, leaning against her chair, was her Mace; the trusty Mace that she had battled with for years, the Mace that had tasted the blood of hundreds of her foes. She was raised by her father and brothers, in a village that may as well have been in the middle of Mordor; it was surrounded by so many orc camps. So she grew, learning to fight at a young age, having to make up for her lack of strength with deadly speed, agility, and accuracy.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," she heard the small voice of a Hobbit proclaim, but still she remained silent, her eyes ticking to glance at him. The men, dwarves, and elves who, just moments ago, had been near to blows, were now silent as she, and turned, looking upon the small one; the one who so bravely and without doubt took such a burden on.

"Though," he continued, for the first time seeming uncertain of himself. "I do not know the way."

"I will help you to bear this burden," the voice of the wizard Mithrandir, Gandalf Greyhame, came to her ears. "So long as it is yours to bear." Her eyes ticked to the Lord Elrond Halfelven, whose eyes, bright and lively like an elf's were apt to be, seemed to smile slightly.

"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," Aragorn said, standing and kneeling before the Hobbit. The son of Arathorn, 39th in the direct line of Isildur. The heir to the Throne of Gondor, to the Throne of the Realm of Men. "You have my sword."

"And my bow," said the elf Legolas, son of Thranduil, who was King of the Woodland Realm. Legolas, the Prince, the archer with so deadly an aim that very few escaped him.

"And my axe," replied the dwarf Gimli, raising the weapon as he spoke. Her eyes went to him. He was a proud dwarf; proud of himself, of his father, of his dwarven heritage. Still she remained expressionless, even as the last man stood.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," Boromir stated, stepping forward. "If it is the will of the Council, Gondor will see it done."

Glancing down for a moment, she stood, taking her mace, and crossed to join them. She still did not say a word, though her eyes spoke volumes.

The males glanced up to Elrond, as though questioning her; they hadn't seen her before, nor had any heard of her. Elrond smiled slightly, nodding to her.

"Gentlemen, this is Blisreil," he said, gesturing to the girl. "She is strong with the mace, and will be an asset to you on your journey."

Before he could say any more, they were joined by three more Hobbits, all insisting to go on this adventure.

Elrond nodded slightly, and turned to look upon them; the Ten who carried the fate of Middle-Earth.

"Very well," he said. "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

Blisreil bowed her head slightly to the Lord Elrond as she took her leave, walking down the path back toward the center of Rivendell. Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, and Gimli watched her leave, each with a different expression on his face. Aragorn held one of curiosity; a female warrior was very rarely seen indeed. Legolas' face held no emotion, though his eyes showed that he was worried. Was bringing a girl truly a wise decision? But he trusted the Lord Elrond, and if he believed her to be skilled enough a warrior to go with them, then he would trust her as well. Boromir appeared doubtful; for in his city, women rarely journeyed from their home, much less battled. And Gimli, he appeared intrigued; for the girl was a most wonderful mystery to him.


Blisreil checked her pack once more, kneeling to tighten it's bounds. About her, the males of the Fellowship did much of the same. She stood, straightening her breastplate, and glanced toward Gandalf, who seemed to be their leader.

"We are ready," he said with a nod, and they set off. Blisreil walked behind the Hobbits, in front of Boromir, near the middle of the group. They walked for long days, until they finally came to rest near the base of Caradharas. Blisreil sat upon a stone, watching the others warily.

Boromir was teaching the younger hobbits, Pippin and Merry, to swordfight. Aragorn chuckled as the two practically tackled the man, but Blisreil made no expression, though her eyebrows eased upward very slightly in amusement.

Gimli watched her, his head tilted. Strange, it was, to him, how she was so quiet, so expressionless. They had been walking for nearly a fortnight, and yet he hadn't heard the sound her voice.

"Why are you so stoic?" She heard the gruff voice from above her, and glanced up to see Gimli standing there. She paused for a moment, then parted her lips, speaking. Her voice was soft, with a thick, rich accent.

"Why are you a Dwarf?"

Gimli started, his lips parting but no sound coming. His eyebows raised; such a ridiculous question, that was, and a most unusual response.

"You just are," she continued, her eyes moving back down. "You need no other reason."

Gimli nodded, understanding her meaning. He was about to say more, when he heard Legolas' cry.

"Crebain from Dunland!"

"Hide!"

The fire was put out, all signs of their being there hidden. Blisreil moved quickly to a place in the bushes. Gimli glanced about for a moment for a hiding place, but found none empty, and, at the last moment, had to jump to join Blisreil in hers. She said nothing, her eyes merely watched the sky. Gimli watched the sky as well, but glanced at Blisreil often.

"We will have to take the pass of Caradharas."


Blisreil drove on through the snow without complaint, even when it reached past her shoulders. She was cold, very cold, for the metal of her armor made the cold of the snow all the more freezing, and she did not wear a lot underneath it. Legolas, who had been walking ahead of them; because of his Elven gracefulness and agility was able to walk upon the snow, paused, turning toward the west.

"There's a fell voice on the air!" he shouted against the wind.

"It's Saruman! He's trying to bring down the mountain!"

Blisreil shared a look with Gimli, as the air itself seemed to quiver, whispering words of a foreign tongue. The mountain seemed to shake, as a bolt of lightening emerged from the concentration of cloud about the mountain.

Blisreil's lips parted, her face for once showing some sort of emotion; wonder and fear, as the mountain shook and a pile of snow fell down upon them. The final thing she did, before bracing herself for the impact, was grab Gimli's arm.

The snow hit like a thousand bricks, knocking her down and nearly throwing her clear off the mountain. It was suffocating, crushing. And it was imperitive that she get out of it as quickly as possible, for her entire face felt frozen, her ears and nose and lips reddening immediately from it.

She pushed herself up, realizing that she still held Gimli's arm. She pulled him up as well, and the two emerged from the snow like dolphins jumping out of the water, and gasped for breath.


"We will go through the mines of Moria," Frodo said softly, and Gandalf nodded, but his eyes spoke; he feared the mines, for reasons Blisreil did not know. He glanced downward, as though he felt doom upon them, but said nothing, as the ten turned, leaving the mountain of Caradharas behind.

They reached the doors, watching with wonder as the door became illuminated, mirroring the starlight. Blisreil sat near the water's edge, looking deep into the dark lake. She felt Gimli stand beside her, unspeaking, but felt his eyes upon her. She gulped, looking a bit deeper into the water, then speaking again to Gimli, so far the only member of the Fellowship who she would speak to.

"There is something in the water."

Legolas and Aragorn glanced out, immediately agreeing. It was then that the doors to Moria swung open, after Gandalf uttered the password. They went into the mine, Blisreil giving an uneasy glance behind them at the water as she stepped into the first room.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, Blisreil saw the horror that had actually occurred in Moria. Dwarven bodies, run through with arrows, slashed at with swords, as far as the eye could see. It seemed that everywhere she looked, there was another body, another corpse. She heard Gimli give a cry, as they began to retreat.

It was then, that her worst fears came true. Hearing the cry of a Hobbit, she turned quickly, seeing a long, thick, slimy tentacle emerging from the water, grabbing Frodo around the legs. Taking her Mace up in her hand, she let out a cry, darting forward without a second thought. She beat at the tentacle, but to no avail; the creature in the water did not seem to suffer under her Mace.

Finally, Frodo was freed, and they began to run back into the mine, but, suddenly, the air became filled with dozens of tentacles, as the entire creature emerged from the water, grabbing the Hobbit once more and trying to drag him in. Blisreil gave another shout, diving at the beast, beating it repeatedly with her Mace. It still seemed not to even feel her blows, even though she was hitting it as hard as she could. With a loud growl, she tossed her Mace aside, onto the shore, reaching to her belt and removing a knife. It was hardly a good weapon, but it would have to do. She cut into the monster's tentacle, not letting go even when it began to thrash about. Blisreil held on for dear life, as the creature raised her high into the air, twirling her about, violently. She must have been at least 50 feet in the air.

"Blisreil!" she heard Gimli's faint voice below her, but she couldn't let go now; she would surely be injured by the fall. But the creature would not just set her down.

"Blisreil!" Aragorn shouted. "Let go, we will catch you!"

She gave an uneasy glance downward, then she closed her eyes.

"I trust you!" she shouted, and it was true; she trusted the rest of the Fellowship with her life. Then, she let go of the knife, dropping to the ground, and into the waiting arms of Aragorn and Boromir.

They set her onto her feet, as the creature burst out again at them.

"To the Mines!" she heard Gandalf shout, and they raced back in, as the creature pulled down the stones of the doorway. They were trapped.


~*~*~ A/N: This is going to be a two-parter, I guess. I'm not going to go through the whole movie or anything, just to let you know. Please review, but keep the flames in the barbecue pit. :-P *~*~*