"Who is that?" Frodo asked looking over Bilbo's shoulder at the drawing. It was lovely, intricate details had been painstakingly etched in order to capture the strange beauty of the woman. And beside her face was a small etching of a dragon.

"No one," Bilbo said quickly, gathering the drawing and hiding it. Her tale was not his to tell, nor did he wish to. The strange woman had willingly aided the quest to reclaim Erebor. And Bilbo had let himself be talked out of releasing her from her cell in Mirkwood, something he still felt a burning shame for.

When Frodo had left Bilbo held the drawing once more. She had been so beautiful, in a strange and dangerous way. No drawing could ever capture her golden eyes, no memory could do her justice. She had become a friend, a reluctant one, but a friend all the same. She had fought with them and won them victory in the only battle Bilbo had ever been apart of; but Thorin had died and she had left, leaving a painful echo of her scream of despair. And that had been the last he'd seen her, and every day he found himself missing her.

Erytheia came when she was called, as she had the last time. Memories of Thorin Oakenshield and his company – and ultimately of the elf prince who had shown her kindness when she did not deserve it – made her hesitant to Gandalf's request.

"Please Erytheia," he said when she turned her back on him, preparing to take flight and leave all the chances of sorrow behind.
She stopped at his plea, having always thought of the wizard as a friend; even if he did ask her for more than she could give.
"Do you remember the ring Bilbo found on the quest?" he asked, wisely not speaking Thorin's name aloud. He waited until she nodded her large black head. "He has bequeathed it to his young nephew. Now it is unto Frodo Baggins to destroy it, and it is of grave importance that he finds victory in this quest."

She sighed irritably, sounding more a dangerous growl, wishing he would stop with the elegant words and tell her what it was he wanted from her.

He saw her irritation, knowing she would sooner take flight than listen for too long. "You will be needed Erytheia, and I do not think it will be the ring bearer you must assist." Gandalf saw the understanding in her large serpentine eyes, as well as the still present hesitation. "We will leave from Rivendell and I fear the path we must take. We would need you then."
He waited until he saw the reluctant agreement in her yellow eyes before continuing – wholly relieved that she would not refuse, and knowing she would not lie about what she was a second time. "Follow us once we depart and stay hidden until you see that your help is most dire. If that moment does not arise I will call for you. Do you understand Erytheia?" The wizard watched as she nodded her great black head.

"Go to Rivendell and wait there, some time will pass before we will be ready to set forth." Gandalf took a step back and observed Erytheia, in all her terrible beauty, take to the sky on her large black wings. He wondered what reception she'd receive, for knowledge of her changing skins had not led to anything but pain on the last quest he had requested her aid in.

She waited outside of Rivendell for almost a year before the ring bearer arrived, and then more time still for him to heal from his wounds. She hid herself well enough that no one besides Gandalf knew she was there. It was possible Aragorn knew she was near, they'd met many years ago when he first went by the name of Strider. But she'd a different appearance when they first met, and it was only when he was endangered that she showed her true self. He asked her to stay with him for a time, her being his only companion and him being the same to her, in which they grew fonder of one another. She left him only when Gandalf called her, and now she laid in waiting.

She kept herself curled in a cave looking over the beautiful elven stronghold, watching as elves and dwarves and men rode in from far away. She saw a familiar blond head ride up and her heart nearly stopped at seeing him after seventy seven years; he looked exactly as she remembered him.

In no way was she surprised when he stepped forward to take part in the quest to destroy the ring, she had guessed he would – it was his nature. Nor was she surprised when Aragorn stepped forward – the first to volunteer. Another man, a dwarf, Gandalf, and four hobbits made up the last of the company. Out of the nine members of the fellowships only three knew of her existence; the dwarf and man would mistrust her the most, possibly even try to kill her.

Though she knew Aragorn would not let harm to come to her, nor would Gandalf. She was not entirely certain but she did not think Legolas would either. And so when the Fellowship of the Ring left Rivendell to embark on their quest, she followed after them unseen.


For those of you who read the original story I would like to thank you. For those of you who have not, I decided to rewrite this story. Which included writing a prequel called Hopeless Wanderer, found under the Hobbit. Erytheia (pronounced Er-ray-thee-uh) is a skin changer, like Beorn, and I am trying to keep her as little of a Mary Sue as possible. So if she starts becoming a sue please let me know so I can fix it. Please leave a review to let me know you're interested. Thank you for reading.