Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R Tolkien, the master of Middle Earth. I am merely taking his events in the War of the Ring, coupled with the setting and characters, and shaping them into my own version. I do not take much credit for this work, since Tolkien laid out an incredible amount of groundwork for me. However, I thought it would be interesting to add a more modern, feminine perspective to the story.

Author's Note:All conversations that take place are in the Common Language, or Westron, (modern day English) unless otherwise noted and translated for the reader to understand. In areas where I do not know the exact translation of English to Elfish, I have come up with my own replica of the language. At any time I could, I did my best to take directly from the novel or others stories that included the quotes within.

Volume I

The Grey Book of Days

a personal and collective

history of the Fellowship

Introduction

In the following text, you will hear a story that no one has heard before outside of Middle Earth. A good many of these events parallel Bilbo Baggin's and Frodo Baggin's (Ringbearer) accounts in the Red Book of Westmarch, but neither of these legendary Hobbits spoke ofthe two women that aided in the Fellowship of the Ring and the One Ring's demise alongwith Sauron. It is thought that the Ringbearer purposely did not include references tothese women in accordance with their personal wishes, or quite possibly to keep their names and histories private, as was a custom in those days, especially regarding roles of women. However, when the War of the Ring ended, one of these women wrote everythingthat transpired from memory, in very great detail and literacy. Her tale was found decadesafter her death, and the book was considered one of the most treasured tales of the pastMiddle Earth had ever known, aside from the Red Book of Westmarch.

We do not know how long it took her to complete this lengthy work, but it has been argued that others added to the story after her death. We do not agree. The text is completely her own, and her astonishingly modernistic method of writing rings true throughout the Volumes.

The following is her very personal account of all that she experienced from beginning to end. Please note that we went through great pains to preserve the authenticity of her work as much as we could, but we did edit along the way for your convenience. This text was written in a large, bound book, and it was primarily penned in Westron, although bits of Elvish appear in sections. Thankfully, she included translations alongside these languages.

It is our great pleasure to share this wonderful tale. Let us allow you to meet Amira, daughter of Drü and Amirana, female Ranger of the North, member of legendary Fellowship of the Ring...

A Note on Names:

Amira – pronounced "Ah-my-ra" (nickname Amir – pronounced "Am-ire")

Ehlon – pronounced "Eh-lon" with a soft "e" such as in "elephant"

A Note on Roles of Persons in the Grey Book of Days:

Frodo Baggins, a well-to-do hobbit from the Shire, who inherits the One Ring from Bilbo, his adoptive uncle (actual cousin).

Samwise Gamgee, gardener for the Bagginses, who accompanies Frodo on the quest to destroy the Ring.

Meriadoc Brandybuck, or Merry, Frodo's cousin and companion in the Fellowship.

Peregrin Took, Pip or Pippin, Frodo's cousin and companion in the Fellowship.

Gandalf, a wizard, who aids Frodo in his quest. A Maia sent by the Valar to contest Sauron. Adoptive uncle figure to Amira.

Ehlon, daughter of Lord Ehlonear and Lady Milanwen. A descendant of a great line of Dunedain and member of the Fellowship. Is a female Ranger who has travelled a great many places in Middle Earth (nicknamed "Walker").

Aragorn, descendant of Isildur and rightful heir to the thrones of Arnor and Gondor. Also known as Strider.

Legolas Greenleaf, an Elf prince, who aids Frodo and the Fellowship. Son of King Thrandruil of Mirkwood and friend of the dwarf Gimli.

Gimli, son of Glóin, a dwarf included in the Fellowship.

Denethor, ruling Steward of Gondor and Lord of Minas Tirith.

Boromir, the eldest son of Denethor and member of the Fellowship.

Faramir, younger brother of Boromir and not favoured by Denethor.

Elrond, Lord of Rivendell and father to Arwen Undomiel.

Bilbo Baggins, Frodo's adoptive uncle.

Théoden, King of Rohan.

Éomer, the 3rd Marshal of the Mark, Théoden's nephew. Later King of Rohan after Théoden's death.

Éowyn, sister of Éomer.

Treebeard, an Ent, who rescues Meriadoc and Pippin from orcs and who helps to turn the tide of battle.

Sauron, the Dark Lord and titular Lord of the Rings, a fallen Maia who helped the Elves forge the Rings of Power long ago. He forged the One Ring in secret to control all the other Rings of Power.

The Nazgûl or Ringwraiths, nine servants of Sauron. Kings of old, they were enslaved to the One Ring through nine of the Rings of Power.

The Witch-king of Angmar, the Lord of the Nazgûl, and Sauron's most powerful servant, who commands Sauron's army.

Saruman, a corrupted wizard who seeks the One Ring for himself. Brainwashed by Sauron through overuse of the Palantír. A Maia sent by the Valar to contest Sauron.

Gríma Wormtongue, a servant of Saruman, a go-between from Saruman to Théoden who poisons Théoden's perceptions with well placed "advice".

Gollum (named Sméagol in earlier life), who formerly possessed the One Ring, which turned him to evil and gave him unnaturally long life.

Prologue

"I amar prestar sen: han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae…a han noston ned wilith," 'The world is changed: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth… I smell it in the air,' the Lady of the Wood, Lady Galadriel, whispered within her peaceful garden in Lórien. Visions danced in her mind, visions of what was, what is, and what will.

"It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest, fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And Nine… nine rings were gifted to the race of Men who, above all else, desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race… but they were all of them deceived for another ring was made. In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring to control all others, and into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life. One Ring to rule them all… the one we all fear and seek.

"One by one the Free lands of Middle earth fell to the power of the ring. But there were some who resisted. A last alliance of Men and Elves marched against the armies of Mordor. On the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth. Soon, victory was near for all… but the power of the Ring could not be undone. Sauron emerged upon the battlefield, slaying all nearest to him, taking down the mightiest of Men and Elves alike… one of which was the King of Gondor, it was in this moment when all hope had faded. But then, from the ashes, Isildur, son of the king, took up his father's sword… and Sauron, the enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, was defeated.

"The Ring passed to Isildur who had this one chance to destroy evil forever, but the hearts of Men are easily corrupted, and the Ring of Power has a will of its own… and in the end it betrayed Isildur to his death…

"Some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend, and legend became myth. For two and a half thousand years the Ring passed out of all knowledge.

"Until, when chance came, the Ring ensnared a new bearer...the creature Gollum. He took it, and for five hundred years it poisoned Gollum's mind, consuming him, bringing him unnatural long life. And in the gloom of Gollum's cave the Ring waited. Darkness crept back into the world, whispers of a nameless fear… the Shadow in the East. The Ring of Power perceived that it's time had now come.

"It abandoned Gollum… but something happened then the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable…a Hobbit… Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. For the time will soon come… when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all,"

Chapter One – A Strange Encounter

The first page of this chapter had mildew on the top portion, ruining the page beyond repair, so we do not know if there were any introductory notes. This is the beginning of what we were able to read. Amira's writing was very small, and ink blots would often merge two words together, forcing us to use forensic means to decipher them. We assume, however, that Amira's journey began somewhere in Arthedain, where she lived while she trained as a Ranger.

The chilly fall air lanced through my clothes and into my skin, and I couldn't help but shiver as I stopped on the hill that would lead down to the Shire. I smiled as I drew my eyes over the valley, not wanting to forget the beauty of the multi-coloured grasses and golden trees. I had never come this far West before; everything I had seen on my journey to date was new.

I straightened my back slightly as I thought of the quest I was currently about to embark on: the Quest of the Ring. Not only would I be crossing through unknown lands in Middle Earth, I would be guiding the Hobbit with the One Ring toward the fiery mountains where it had been created. I shivered slightly, feeling the dampness of the forest I'd just brushed through stick to my clothes and cool my skin. Darkness was spreading everywhere, and I could feel the first faint beginnings of it even here, in the peaceful valley of the Hobbits.

I sighed wearily; it had been a long journey, and the aches and pains were catching up on me. In all my years of training with Gandalf and my Ranger friends, I never felt as tired as I did that day. I rubbed a cold hand over my face and mustered the strength to continue walking, trying instead to focus on the unexpected beauty of this yawning valley. The Shire was where this journey would begin, and it was where I was needed, so I must go...

Trudging down the steep hill, I had to be careful on the wet grass, which was slippery from rain. Over the faint outline of the mountains I could see black clouds moving steadily toward the Shire, and I guessed tonight there would be more rain. As I slipped and slid down the hill, I wondered where Gandalf was now. He had insisted I make this trip alone while he went on a trail to the East toward Bree, where the paths of the Company would converge.

Moving from the hill and onto a road, I found my thoughts wandering to those who I would be guiding: the Hobbits. I knew the Ringbearer's name was Frodo Baggins and his loyal friend was Samwise Gamgee, but I knew nothing more. I smiled wryly, because Gandalf was always stingy with details like those, making me believe after a time that it was his effort to create a mystery for me to unravel. Living and fighting with the great wizard had taught me enough to be patient for answers, if any were to come. Before I left Camp, he told me to avoid the road leading from the Shire to Bree, which I had thought a strange instruction, and still did now. I frowned slightly, wondering if I would have to scrape my way through the forest like I had done thus far on my journey. I had been looking forward to walking on a road like I was on now, but as fate would have it, no such comfort would exist for me in the next few days.

I lengthened my stride as I made my way around a Shire town, which was bustling with activity. I longed to stop and talk to the short little people in their homes built into the earth, but I knew I did not have any time to spare. Maybe when all of this Darkness is over, I told myself, maybe then I will return. I barely escaped a farmer searching for me, a trespasser on his lands, and I swung over a fence and onto the main road. I had no way of knowing if this one would lead to the road which Gandalf had warned me about, but I knew I was going in the right direction. If there was one thing I could not do, it was stop for directions. After spending a night beneath a cottonwood tree wrapped up in my cloak, I resumed my journey in the morning. By late afternoon, I had passed through the majority of the Shire grasslands and I could see the Old Forest up ahead. I stumbled onto a road, and it was dark, with a draught of uncomfortably cold air. Immediately, I supposed this was the Road which I should avoid. I stopped briefly to catch my breath, for I had been running all day, and looked up and down the Road.

It was as quiet as Death. I didn't trust the silence somehow, although nothing jumped out from behind a tree and attacked me. I stood there for a moment longer, remembering Gandalf telling me that this forest was not inhabited by evil, other than the evils passing through it. It did not make me feel any more comfortable, and with this thought in mind, I crossed the road and pushed my way through the forest in the general direction of Bree. By the time night fell, I approximated I was roughly one third of the way through the forest, judging by how fast I had been running and remembering the length of it on Gandalf's map.

Since safe was not a word I associated with the forest, I slept up high in a large oak tree for the night. Although I did not sleep at all, it felt wonderful to rest my legs, which had begun to ache at the end of the day. When morning came, I was as rested as I could be, and I continued pushing through the entangling underbrush, walking at first and then running. It was just before noon that I discovered the trail. It was about a foot wide and had been packed down by many feet, animal and human alike. Despite this, however, it looked as though it hadn't been used since the last heavy rain two days ago. I bent down to have a better look at the path, and I caught something I didn't see before: the distinct heel of a Ranger's boot, or, at the very least, a warrior's boot. I frowned, unsure of the safety of the trail. I had not expected I would meet anyone on my journey, and I felt uneasy about the status of this Ranger or warrior: if I encountered them, what would their allegiance be? There had been betrayals among the Dunedain, but they had been few. Would it be my fate to meet one of these? I shook my head to clear it and continued on, telling myself if I could beat an Orc, I could beat an unsuspecting warrior in a duel. With this feeling settling over me, I began running as fast as I could go, barely stopping for food or drink, let alone rest.

The afternoon flew by, and soon it was dusk, or near so, since it was hard to tell the time of day in the dark, mute forest. Even my footsteps were sounds that were quickly swallowed up by the density of the brush. I stopped by a bubbling brook to drink, and rested for a moment on my haunches, keeping my ears open for any sound that could alert me to danger. I heard the distinct sound of approaching footsteps, and although they were quiet, they seemed loud to my oversensitive ears. Feeling my heartbeat boom in my chest, I scrambled up the nearest tree, a large fir, and hid myself among the branches.

The person came into the clearing a few moments later, a hooded figure dressed in Ranger's clothing. So I had been right! They slowed to stop by the brook, cupping their hands and drinking slowly as I had done just moments before. My curiosity burned as much as my warrior senses to know who this person was. As they drank, they kept looking around them, as though they guessed my presence in the tree above them. I held every muscle locked tight to keep from falling from the precarious position I had rushed into in my haste, and focused on the figure below me. They were slight but tall, yet not tall enough to be a man. The figure's body seemed strong, and I wondered if the person was a young Ranger, still a boy and not having grown to the full height of a man.

They rose unexpectedly, and then crouched back down, seemingly intent on the ground before them. To my horror, I realized they were tracing my footsteps with their eyes to the path and back to the brook, where they would lead directly to the tree I had climbed into. I held my breath, willing the stranger to keep their eyes level. Suddenly, in a flash, they had drawn their bow and were aiming an arrow directly at me in the tree. Unlocking my muscles instantly, I propelled myself out from the branch just as they loosened an arrow to the spot where I had been precariously sitting. Landing on my feet but swaying to my knees, I drew my sword as they moved toward me with lightning speed. Our swords crashed together as I attempted to protect myself from the Ranger's heavy blow. A voice came from within the dark hood:

"Who are you?"

It was a low pitched voice, and yet it seemed like a forced tone.

"I am no one you need to know," I said, and they threw themselves toward me, forcing me back against a tree.

"I will decide that for myself," they said, their tone menacing and dark. I saw their smile beneath the shadow of their cloak, and I growled a little, twisting away from their sword and hooking their leg with my foot. This action caused them to fall to their knees, and I danced away from their deadly answering thrust, which would have gutted me.

"Why do you wish to kill me? You don't even know me," I hissed. I twisted my sword around theirs, trying to force it out of their hands, a move which failed since they hung onto it tightly.

"You..." they growled, forcing me backwards again, "you, the wench hiding in the tree. Didn't you wish to kill me?"

Before I could answer, they had me caged between two trees, where there was no room for me to swing. I twirled around one tree, barely missing the tip of their sword. On the other side, I moved quickly and blocked their swing, simultaneously getting close enough to them to punch their jaw. Their head went back, and in slow motion, I watched the hood slide back to reveal their face. This was no young boy, it was a grown woman! In my shock and horror, I let my defences go slack for a moment too long. The woman Ranger took advantage of this immediately, slicing toward my exposed shoulder.

Ducking and rolling on the ground away from her, I sprung myself into a standing position just in time to meet her surprisingly heavy blow. My arms shook as they met her force, and our eyes connected. In a flurried moment of understanding, I realized who this woman was: the Walker. Feeling strangely weak, I allowed her to twist my sword across the small clearing, and suddenly I found myself weaponless. I twisted and ducked as she backed me against a tree, seemingly intent on drawing some of my blood. I stood there with my back against the tree and my arms by my side. She seemed shocked that I wasn't making any effort to defend myself at all. I looked directly at her, the tension leaving my body suddenly, although I was still very much in danger. In a flash, her sword tip was pressing into my throat, not hard enough to draw blood, but close.

"Who are you?" she asked in what I guessed was her regular voice. I sighed.

"Take your sword away from my throat and I will answer," I said, and her grey eyes, the colour of a stormy sky, darkened slightly at my words. She frowned.

"I don't think so," she said slowly, pushing the tip harder against my throat, cutting through the skin. I blinked, feeling a small rivulet of blood run down the front of my neck.

"I know who you are..." I whispered, and I watched her face register surprise, suspicion, and then amusement.

"Who am I?" she asked in a slightly mocking tone.

"The Walker," I answered, and the pressure from the sword point eased slightly as confusion stole across her face. If there was one woman the entire North would recognize, it would be The Walker: her deadly reputation had circled around the rest of Middle Earth, I was certain.

"How-" and then I was shocked to see her draw back in horror, "you...I," She backed away from me, and I was completely and utterly confused. "Gandalf spoke true."

I frowned, feeling uneasy at her words.

"You are the sixth member of the Company journeying to the Council in Rivendell are you not?" she asked, her eyes roving over my form and settling on my face.

"Yes," I breathed, feeling my strength ebb away as the tension left my body. I leaned back against the tree for support, feeling strangely weakened. I watched her sheath her sword, and then I looked to the ground, finding her gaze slightly disconcerting. "Gandalf must have known we would meet."

I felt her draw closer to me, and I lifted my head, surprised by her proximity.

"And who are you, young one, to be fighting in such dark times?" she asked, her voice unexpectedly gentle.

Our eyes met, and I exhaled shakily, feeling the aches of my journey catching up with me again.

"I am Amir, of the Dunedain like you," I answered, lifting a hand to my throat and wiping away the blood with my fingers. I could feel her watching me, and when I looked up, her eyes held regret.

Walker shook her head, "I did not wish to injure you, but I did not expect someone as young as you to be the sixth member of the Company. Please accept my apologies."

I smiled faintly. "I accept, Walker, but I am not as young as you may think."

She frowned, and then sighed. "I suppose I will leave that for you to tell willingly," Then she looked around the clearing briefly, and back at me. "You look weary."

I nodded, moving away from the tree and picking up my sword from the other side of the clearing. Sheathing it, I took a deep breath. "I had only a drop of water before I found myself hiding in the tree above you."

Her eyes twinkled with amusement, but that was soon gone. "Then drink, for the day grows shorter."

Crouching down beside the brook again, I washed the blood off my hands and throat, running wet fingers over my face briefly. I then cupped my hands and drank quickly, nearly sighing with relief as my thirst was quenched at last. Rising, I checked my weapons: bow, knife, and sword were all in place. Satisfied, I turned to Walker, whose gaze I had felt on me the entire time. I looked back at her, observing features I had not noticed before: the muscled though rounded body, and the noble forehead and jawline that spoke of her higher bloodline.

"I am ready," I remarked quietly, and she nodded. Wordlessly, we began walking, me following her lead. Soon we began to run, and all thought evaded my mind as I focused solely on the placement of every step.

When the faltering day turned to night, we were forced to stop. Walker gripped my forearm and led me into a small clearing off the path, and in the growing blackness that was falling through the forest, she lit a small fire. The light danced across the tree trunks and illuminated up into the branches, which seemed far from content with the sudden heat in the clearing. Reaching into her pack, she drew out some potatoes and harabas, a wild salad green that grew profusely nearly everywhere. Placing the potatoes into the fire, she looked up at me, those grey eyes twinkling with amusement once again. "Are you hungry, Amir?" I smiled faintly and nodded. My stomach had been gnawing and twisting uncomfortably nearly all day, but as I had been trained, I ignored it.

Walker passed me some of the harabas, and I chewed on them thoughtfully, letting my eyes wander unfocussed, staring at the flames. I thought back to the day and wondered if my warrior senses were telling me the right thing: throughout the afternoon, I couldn't help but begin to trust the woman Ranger more and more. Was I making a fatal mistake? I frowned slightly, for if she had wanted to kill me, she would have done so long before now. She would have nothing to gain by my death, I reasoned.

"You can trust me, young one," Her voice startled me, and my head whipped over to where she was turned over a potato in the fire. It was as though she had read my thoughts.

I swallowed thickly. "I know," I said quietly, "my instincts tell me this as well."

She smiled, the fullest one I had seen thus far. "Listen to those instincts, for when ignored, they come back to haunt you."

I nodded, feeling my lips curve into a small smile in return. "I am familiar with that."

"Here," she said, setting a blackened potato into a small wooden bowl and handing it to me, "eat."

"Thank-you." I responded, bowing my head slightly in respect to her bloodline. Her eyes caught and held mine, hers taking on a seriousness that surprised me.

"There is no need for that here, Amir...I am not one to be bowed to, in any way." She spoke softly, but her words were sharply edged, though I was certain not toward me. She must not have known I had noticed the features of her bloodline.

"Perhaps you think this is so," I returned, "but I say I should decide for myself."

She shook her head and then turned over the other potato in the fire, closing the conversation.

Cutting open the skin with my dagger, I popped a steaming piece of potato in my mouth, revelling in the taste as I chewed carefully. Together with the harabas, it made a perfect meal, although it had disappeared a little too quickly for my liking.

Walker seemed to know this, because she said: "I would give you more, but we must conserve where we can."

I nodded, understanding completely. "Thank-you," I replied, bowing my head toward her again, making her eyes darken.

Suddenly, I found myself blurting out words before fully forming them in my mind. "Do you not trust me, Walker?"

She shook her head quickly. "Nay, I trust you well, young one. I merely have dark thoughts on my mind."

I frowned, and then nodded, understanding that she wasn't about to expand on this. To have dark thoughts invading the mind this far from Mordor was a strange thing...

The fire soon began to ebb, and I found myself locking my jaw to keep back yawns.

"Lay down to sleep," Walker said softly, meeting my eyes from across the fire. "I will keep the first watch."

I smiled slightly before turning away to gather the pine needles into a small bed. When this was done, I stretched myself out and bit back a hiss when I felt how aching my leg muscles were. Feeling my strength disappear, I drifted to sleep with the popping and cracking of the fire.

"Amir..." a voice penetrated my dreams, which were already beginning to fade, but I hung onto them tightly, trying to force them to stay. "Amir, it is time." I rolled onto my back, and when I opened my eyes I saw two things: Walker crouching over me, and daylight filtering through the trees. I jumped up instantly, surprising the woman in front of me.

"You didn't wake me up to keep watch," I accused, and she smiled faintly.

"You were very weary, I could tell." she countered.

I opened my mouth to reply, but I shut it quickly, turning my attention instead to brush off the needles that had clung to my clothes. I combed my fingers through my hair, which felt tangled, and picked out a few remaining needles.

"That was unnecessary, Walker, but thank-you," I said finally, looking back at her again.

She nodded, seeming strangely distant, as though her thoughts were far away. In this light, I could see the lines of weariness painted upon her own face, and an unexpected anger surged through me.

Moving toward her, I watched as her expression changed to confusion as I drew closer until I was less than an arm's length away.

"If you did not wake me to keep watch, it is only fair that I return some strength to you," I said quietly, and the confusion deepened when I put my hands on her shoulders.

She opened her mouth to speak, but something in my eyes must have made her change her mind. I lifted my hands to either side of her face, an action which made her tense up immediately. I ignored her reaction and focused on the transfer. Without much effort, the dam inside me burst, and I let out a flood of energy into her, watching as her eyes widened when she understood what I was doing. Drawing back and letting my hands slip away from her face, I began to turn away to begin clearing up the fire, but she grabbed my arm, startling me.

Her expression was one full of questions and shock as her eyes searched mine. Finally, she grasped both of my upper arms, keeping me in place.

"Do not ever do that to me again," she ground out, and it was my turn to be confused. Where had this anger come from?

"Walker, I-"

She cut me off, "Do not waste your power on me, Amir. Keep your strength for those who may need it." Her voice was softer at the end, and I relaxed slightly.

"You were as weary as I was yesterday," I argued, and she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Promise me," Walker insisted, and I had to recollect what she wanted me to promise her.

I shook my head, "I cannot promise that, I am sorry."

She sighed, letting go of my arms. "Keep your strength, Amir, as much as you can."

I nodded, and the strange moment passed.

Clearing away the evidence of the previous night, we continued on through the forest. As I had guessed the day before, the rain made its presence known soon after the morning brightened into day. Although we were mostly protected by the dense boughs of the trees, the rain still dripped steadily down onto us, soaking through our clothes as the hours went by.

The day went quickly, and we were still deep in the Old Forest. When night fell once again, I remarked that we were approximately two thirds of the way through. She only nodded, and we were quiet, as we had been nearly the entire day. Our silence wasn't uncomfortable, it was merely companionable, and I felt at ease around the woman Ranger. I had never had the honour to meet and travel with someone, especially a woman, with such high ranking blood. Although these things mostly didn't bother or change the way I perceived a person, there were certain customs that must be followed: bowing the head or entire body, respecting rank by titles, standing up upon their arrival in a room, being willing to sacrifice honour or life in order to save theirs, among others. It was deeply rooted in the Northern way to understand the workings of these customs and to be able to recognize the signs of nobility, or at least, noble blood in the face of a stranger.

As I thought of this around the fire in one of our lengthy silences, I found it strange that Walker had not wished me to acknowledge her higher blood at all, in body or voice. It went against my training to do this, but I respected her wishes the best I could, having to catch myself before bowing my head several times throughout the day.

The following two days rushed by as fast as our footsteps on the forest floor, and still the rain fell heavily. Our water supply was critical, so whenever we had the chance, we found leaves that had collected rainwater and tipped them into our mouths to momentarily satisfy our thirst. The creek had long disappeared, and now the roots of the trees were tangled together, competing for space, light, and water. At first I had perceived it as beautiful, but now that we had been running for four days, the silence, darkness, and rain was beginning to dampen my enthusiasm for trees, as much as I loved them.

When we broke through the forest on the fourth day, I breathed a sigh of relief, as though my lungs had been suffocated by the silence and darkness. The afternoon sun blinded us momentarily, and we staggered for a moment, bumping into each other.

My eyes adjusted, and I saw that Walker was smiling as she looked out across the shimmering fields.

"At last our eyes may see sunshine," she murmured, and I nodded, feeling my heart lift as the sun warmed my moist skin.

"At last," I echoed, and sighed again.

"By evening we will reach Bree," she said, turning to me, her grey eyes catching the sunlight. "The longer part of our journey has been completed."

I smiled, thinking ahead to the warmth, food, and shelter that would await us in Bree. Walker seemed to guess where my thoughts had taken me, and her eyes crinkled slightly as she grinned, touching my arm.

"Come, let us run,"

And run we did, our footsteps lighter on the hard packed road.

Thank-you very much for reading! This is my first attempt at fan-fiction, and it has turned into something much more than I originally intended, with some 130 000 words already written in advance…I promise things will start to pick up more as the chapters go by. Patience, my friends. Reviews would make me very happy. I have already uploaded Chapter Two.