Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings, although it's not doing J. R. R. Tolkien much good. I do own Rohiba and her entire family...which consists of half the elves and Dunedan in the books. Right. Never mind.

She Who Sees- Chapter One

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'words in here are Sindarin'

"words in here are Tengwar...er, the Common Tongue"

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The sun rose quickly in those days, as though to offset the growing darkness in the east. I rose before the first rays of light shone over the trees around me, packing my bags swiftly, as I wished to continue my journey as soon as the light of day struck through the green boughs above me. I was soon prepared to travel, but I first decided to see how the land lay before me. Leaping high up into the air, I grasped a thick limb far above the ground. Moments later, I was flying through the branches to the crown of the tree, smiling widely at the speed I was achieving. My breath came faster as I paused to look out over the canopy of trees, the warmth of the sun and cool breeze at my back. Suddenly, I was startled out of my reverie by a whinny from the ground below. Swinging down, I whistled softly to myself an elven ballad, a tune from my mother's elven heritage.

I was a half-elf, my father being a Dunedain of the North. I was royalty from both my father and mother, for my mother Elsharon Lathiel, Elrond Half-Elven's half-sister. She was an elven princess, thousands of years old when she wed my father Ruthilien son of Thalien, a descendent of Isildur and Elendil. I was well known among the elves of Imladris as Lord Elrond's kin, and my status as such had aided me greatly in my travels, both among elves and men, namely the Rangers of the North. I alone among my father's children bore the visible mark of our elven heritage, perhaps because I alone am a woman-child, and bear the closest resemblance to our mother Elsharon. So it was, that while my brothers traveled among men as men, I traveled among elves as an elf, my pointed ears bearing mute testimony of what I was. This journey on which I was about was an important one, for I had seen things, things which had yet to come to pass that would decide the fate of all of Arda. That is why I traveled the land, so that might ensure that what I had foreseen would indeed come to pass. That is why I traveled, and that is why I was disguised as an elven warrior, clad in tunic, leggings, boots and a mithril coat, and a cloak of Lothlorien elven cloth, which caused the wearer to be nigh on invisible.

I dropped down from the tree, landing lightly by Ithildin, the beautiful silver-gray Meara who had claimed me as his master. 'Good old Ithildin' I whispered to him softly. I swung the bags up over his shoulders, then took a hold of his mane and mounted gracefully. We trotted off, and I drew my cloak closer about me and drew the hood over my head until my face was all but obscured.

We had only ridden a few hours when I came to a strong river, surrounded by majestic trees on both sides. I measured it with my eyes and could see that it was both swift and deep, and very, very cold. The Silverlode, and some had passed over it not long before. I saw the marks upon the trunks of two trees, one mark about two feet higher than the other, and another, two feet above that: a rope bridge to cross the water unscathed. I dismounted and looked at the signs on the ground. Two men, four elves, a dwarf, and the tracks of four smaller sets of bare feet that I recognized as belonging to the hobbits. So they had crossed here, I mused, leaving a single elf behind. I searched the other back, and caught a flash of gray. Standing with my hand upon Ithildin's mane, I gave a call like the low whistle of a bird, and out of a thicket of young an elf stepped, clad in gray, but with his hood thrown back; his hair glinted like gold in the afternoon sun. Hearing a sound behind me, I brought my bow around, an arrow to the string, quick as lightning. An elf, clad in shadowy gray, held a bow taut, the arrow pointed straight at my throat. For a moment, we stood there, our arrows pointed and bows bent.

'What means such a greeting? Are the times gone in which an elven kinsman, though a stranger, would be greeted with gladness?' I asked him in Sindarin, my bow never wavering. Slowly, I lowered my bow until the arrow pointed to the ground, yet I kept it bent. He, in turn, lowered his weapon. Drawing the arrow from the string, I placed it back in my quiver and slung the bow over my shoulder. Putting back my hood, I allowed him to see my face, and pointed ears. My hair, worn in the elven fashion just past shoulder-length, was a peculiar color for an elf, a dark red, but my eyes were the elven gray, flecks of gold, my skin fair and smooth. All in all, I was a rather outlandish elf, but I knew that this was fairly typical of those who were only half-elven. 'My name is Rohiben' I told him calmly, 'I have need of crossing here'

He looked closely upon me. 'What need have you of entering Nimrodel?' His voice was gracious yet suspicion was clear in his eyes.

'I have been sworn to follow those who crossed here earlier this day. I have need of joining them' He looked upon me with even more suspicion.

'No word has crossed these borders that an elf would join the Fellowship' Sighing, I drew my hand from within my cloak, holding the elven pendant dangling from its thin gold chain. The elf's eyes widened; the pendant had been my mother's and bore the stones of the great elven lords. My mother, Elrond's half-sister. All elves recognized the symbol of rank in that pendant, and all would respect me for the possession of it. Bowing his head, his suspicion turned to curiosity, he spoke respectfully. 'Your pafdon, my lord. I am Rumil. Welcome to Lorien in the name of the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn'

I bowed my head in turn. 'I have need of crossing her in haste. My time is short' It took only a moment's time, then I walked across the thin gray rope, stepping lightly across, having no need of a second rope to hold my balance. Reaching the other side, still bearing my bags and weapons, the rope bridge was untied and withdrawn. Looking back, I saw Rumil attempting to calm Ithildin as the horse trotted back and forth by the river bank. I called to him in Sindarin 'Ithinldin! Ithildin! Hold back unless you would ford the waters of Celebrant! Follow me as you will, but will call you in my time of need!' Turning, I was about to enter the woods of Lorien when I heard a splash and whirled around. 'Ithildin! Ithildin!' I cried out in amazement. The stallion was braving the river to reach me! Easily, he traversed the water, his powerful legs churning in the frigid water. Pulling himself up the bank, he stood quivering for a moment, the freezing water running down his body, then he nickered and nudged me.

Laughing, I rubbed his forehead. 'Had I known you wished to come so badly, I would have allowed you to walk across on the rope!' Quickly, I made my way, ordering the elf to remain, as I had no need of a guide. I walked, my hand on Ithildin's broad back, but only for short while, then mounted and rode beneath the trees. We continued on through the day, and on into the night. Towards the morning, we rested, refreshing ourselves, I with meat and drink, Ithildin with the springy green grass that grew on the wooded hills. We continued on quickly, traveling a route that would keep me away from the Fellowship; I wished to reach the city of the Galadrim before them.

And so I did, arriving in late afternoon, just as the sun was disappearing. I reached the southern gate and knocked. 'I come to see the Lady Galadriel in the name of the house of Elrond!' Silently, the gates opened, and I entered the City of the Trees, Ithildin following close behind.

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---So endeth Chapter One. I realize that I am introducing a new character here without explaining her presence, but as the story progresses, you will understand better who- and what- Rohiba is.

-To explain few things:

1) Throughout this story, Rohiba will be traveling under the guise of a male elf. The reasons for this are fairly obvious. I know that it is difficult to believe that all these sharp-eyed elves won't even notice her obviously feminine curves(not to mention the fact that she tends to take potty-breaks a little differently than a normal he-elf), so I have provided a rather unique solution: a glamour. Rohiba has some magic of her own apart from her foresight, and places about herself a sort of notice-me-as-you-first-see-me sort of glamour. Basically what the glamour does is let all those around her easily believe that she is what first glance makes her out to be: a male elf. Unless someone truly knows her gender or finds out what she is through some sense other than sight, they will not even consider the possibility that she is anything but male. Of course, Galadriel proves the exception. Argh. She annoys me. She's such a know-it-all. Literally.

2) Rohiba is the only female child in her family. She has four living brothers, all but one of whom are older than she. In order of age, they are: Rohad(95), Halrad(87), Rodeth(85) and Rohiba's twin brother Roreth(80), who is her younger by a few hours. Just to add in an interesting fact, Rohiba and her twin are identical in build, face, voice and mannerisms. Basically, the only difference between them is a few rather easily hidden curves.

3) To clarify exactly the relation between Rohiba and Aragorn, they are second cousins.

Thank you for bearing with me! Please review!