Ok - just a quick disclaimer and a quick note. And then the summary.

Anything recognizable belongs to Tolkien or Lewis. I wish I own Lord of the Rings and Narnia - but I don't.

Cover pic is the main character - only her hair is more gold than red.

Now this is for any of you who have read/are reading my other story For The Sake of Blood. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT, DON'T READ THE REST OF THIS AUTHOR NOTE - SPOILERS! First off - thank you! Second, I want you to forget everything that you learned about the Amator in that story. Since they are a people I invented, I have completely changed the history and tons of other stuff. Basically, the Amator are NOT related to the draghonar. Dragons are dragons. Amator do still have a dragon-form - but just because they do. It has nothing to do with the draghonar. The Amator are also not dragon fighters (they would totally fight dragons, but it isn't their main purpose). In this story, the Amator do not undergo blood rage. Rajani and the Standubh do not exist, and neither do the Amator king and queen (I forget their names - I know - I'm a bad author!) or the heir of Amator. They can't just link themselves to others' minds. So basically, everything from the other story gets flung out the window! Also, in this story, Amator have more and different magic - as you shall see. If anyone actually read to the end of this thing... You Are Awesome! Lots of brownie points and invisible lollipops!

And now the summary! I realize this is a lot of talking...

A young woman finds herself lost and alone in a strange world immediately after receiving the news that her beloved brother has disappeared. She is rescued by a mysterious man, and eventually joins him in his fight against the deepening darkness. What will become of the Fellowship with the addition of this strange woman? And what affect will others have on the War of the Ring, when they begin to appear?

Not sure that summary is a whole lot better, but there you go...

She sagged against a rock. It had been weeks now. Would she ever see him again? She was lost without him. It felt as though without him a part of her was gone.

Technically, that's accurate…

She forced herself to keep moving. She was weaponless, and weary. Defenseless. Without a weapon, she had been unable to hunt successfully, and had been reduced to eating certain mosses that she knew were edible. Without proper food, her strength was waning. As she didn't have a weapon, her only chance if she got in trouble was flight – but she was no longer strong enough for that. Well she did have one other option, but she wasn't strong enough for that either. She heard the wolves howl behind her. They had been tracing her all day. She had lost them earlier by hiding her scent in several streams, but they had found her again. With no way to fight and no strength to run, she knew she was doomed.

Hours later, she finally gave in. The wolves were almost on her now. They were going to get her any moment; a few more steps would make no difference. Sinking against a tree, she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable. I wish I could have seen him, just one more time. I wish I could have said goodbye. She could hear their snarling breath as they slunk through the trees, the leaves that snapped and crackled under their paws. Suddenly their aggressive growls turned to yips and howls of fear and pain. She opened her eyes. Two wolves lay dead where they had fallen, arrows in their sides. And between her and the remaining wolves stood a man, sword in hand.

He fought the whole pack, using only his sword. Not an easy feat – there must have been about twenty wolves. He was a very good fighter; she would know. She had been taught by the best. Finally the pack gave up, after at least five more wolves lay dead on the snow, and left to find prey that wasn't so well defended. The man sheathed his sword and came to her, kneeling down beside her. He spoke to her, but she didn't understand.

She tried to speak, but couldn't even make the words come out. So she just shook her head slightly when he spoke again, and hoped he would understand. But the tiny movement made her dizzy, and the edge of her vision began fading. She felt the man reach out and steady her, and then blacked out. As she lost consciousness she cried aloud.

She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed unable to. "Come now lady, it is alright. Do not try to speak, you are very weak. You are safe now. I will take care of you." She shook her head slightly, and then swayed a little as though the movement had made her dizzy. Her eyes were dim and clouded, and he realized she was losing consciousness – quickly he reached to steady her. Before she was quite gone she cried, "Peter!" This was clearly a name, although a rather unusual one. He caught her as she fell. Lifting her gently, he carried her to a nearby cave that his people often used when they passed through the area. Once there, he lit a fire, then focused all his efforts on reviving the mysterious woman. Who is she, and how did she come to be alone in the wilds, so far from any human life?

She groaned softly as she regained consciousness. She ached all over, but couldn't remember why. And the surface she lay on was hard, unlike her lovely bed. She must have fallen asleep reading by the fire again. Her eyes were still closed, but she heard movement in the room, and sleepily murmured, "Cami? Can you draw me a hot bath? I don't remember what I was did yesterday, but I'm so sore…" She heard more movement, and then a soft husky voice spoke to her, in a language she couldn't understand. At the same time, a cool damp cloth was gently pressed to her forehead. She gasped and opened her eyes. At the sight of the man who knelt beside her, all her memories came flooding back. Tears pooled in her eyes as she remembered where she was, and that he was not here with her. The man continued speaking, the sound strangely soothing, as he changed the cloth on her head. She stared up at him fearfully, and tried to pull away. He quickly restrained her, then paused, seeming to realize that she was afraid. Standing, he backed up and sat on a rock beside a small fire. He continued speaking softly, clearly trying to calm her.

After a while she said, "You know that I don't understand you, right?" He only looked at her, and then shook his head slightly. Clearly he didn't understand her any more than she understood him. She tried to sit up, and immediately he was kneeling beside her again, gently holding her down, and shaking his head vigorously. She stopped fighting him and lay quietly. He nodded, and again withdrew, this time to the far side of the fire where he did something on the ground. The light of the fire wouldn't allow her to see what he was doing.

When he came back to her, he was carrying a small bowl full of some sort of plant concoction, and a water skin. He offered her a drink, which she gladly took, and then got her to eat the contents of the bowl. She decided that he did not intend to hurt her, not yet at least. There wasn't much she could do even if he did, she was too weak. He covered her with his cloak, and then began to sing softly. He was clearly gifted; his voice was strong and clear, and the song was mesmerizing. She fell asleep at last, listening to him sing.

She finally fell asleep. He adjusted the cloak she was wrapped in, and sat back against the wall of the cave, wondering what to do. She would not be strong enough to travel for at least a week, but he did not have enough provisions to last that long. He didn't dare leave her to go hunting – she was defenseless. He might block the entrance to the cave to protect her when he was gone, but if he was afraid that if he left her alone she might try to move around and end up actually hurting herself. He could go while she was asleep, but he had no idea when she might wake. If she woke and found herself alone, she was likely to panic. Try as he might, he simply could not find a workable solution. He would have to settle for less than perfect.

Having made up his mind, he quietly slipped out of the cave. If she were ever going to sleep for hours without waking, it would be now while she was so weak and exhausted. Carefully blocking the entrance, he then disappeared in the night. At dawn he returned from hunting – cold and tired, but successful. When he reentered the cave, he found her still asleep. Relieved, he set about the messy task of cleaning the rabbits he had caught. There was enough meat to feed them until she was strong enough to travel a little. The knife rang against a stone and he winced, hoping the sound didn't disturb her sleep. He glanced up when she stirred, but returned to his task when she did not appear to wake.

When she heard the man return she pretended to be asleep. She had no idea how long he had been gone, but he hadn't been there when she had woken up. Instead of panicking, she had simply waited to see what would happen. Now he set something on the ground, and then bent over her for a moment.

Can he tell I'm faking? Probably not, he couldn't even tell most of the time, and always said I was a good actor.

She heard him settle down on the other side of the fire, doing something with a knife that caused it to ring against a stone. She shifted slightly, nervous again. Who was he, and what was he doing way out here in the middle of nowhere? Of course she was grateful that he had saved her, but… When he stopped what he was doing, she realized that he had heard her shift. She shifted again slightly, and sighed softly, as though deep in sleep. She would 'wake up' later; right now she needed time to think. Instead of thinking however, she fell into the land of dreams.

She was running through the woods, laughing. She could hear him laughing behind her, and his footsteps, faster than her own. Suddenly she tripped, strong arms catching her before she hit the ground.

"Need a hand?" He asked teasingly, his eyes sparkling.

"Peter! Put me down!"

"Ok." He grinned, dropping her the remaining foot or so to the ground.

"Hey!" She cried, laughing. "I said put me down, not drop me!"

"Can't have it both ways, lil' sis!"

She pouted. "You're so mean…"

"Mean?" He pounced, tickling her till she gasped for breath. "Are you sure I'm mean?"

"No! No! You're not mean! You're the nicest, most wonderful brother anyone could ever have!"

He grinned, ceasing his tickling. "That's better."

She jumped up and took off running again, shouting, "No fair tickling me to make me say something! You're still mean!"

"Oh, really?" He called as he chased her again. He caught her right on the bank of the brook, holding her over the water.

"Are you sure I'm mean?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh wouldn't I? Come on, just say it…"

"Oh no! You won't, Susan will have your head if you wreck my dress! I'm not saying anything!"

"Ok." He said cheerfully, giving her a wicked grin. Then he dropped her in the brook.

"Peter James –!" She screamed as she hit the water. Flailing about, she managed to pull herself out despite her now soaked skirts. He was lying on the bank, laughing hysterically.

"Oh Ar! You should have seen your face…" He trailed off in another burst of laughter.

"Peter…" She half sang, "You are the most terrible brother in the world – but I love you anyway. Want a hug?"

He jumped up and backed away, still laughing. "No thanks!"

"Are you sure?" She asked, still in her singsong voice.

"Very sure!"

"I could really use a hug right now…" she whined pleadingly.

"Too bad!" He grinned, still backing away.

Moments later their earlier places were reversed; she was chasing her brother through the woods as he ran and shouted in mock terror.