Ireth was used to being ignored. Not necessarily ignored, as a girl would ignore a boy vying for her attention, but more as a dismissive subconscious thought. None the less, she was used to her aunt and uncle chattering to each other completely unaware of her when they ate dinner together. It unnerved her just a little that the only family she had left weren't very fond of her. Her Aunt Muriel and Uncle Dan weren't exactly young, but they weren't that old either. They were only in their early forties. So when she first moved in with them when she was ten, she was a little more than shocked at her less than warm welcome. It had made her want to cry even more than when she'd lost her baby brother, and parents only two weeks before that. After two years of tears and feeling like a parasite in her Aunts home, she learned to keep herself from crying and completely out of the way. Her Aunt and uncle weren't bad people per se, after all her Aunt, her mother's sister, had also lost a part of her on that fateful day. Ireth wasn't sure why her Aunt chose to keep a disconnected relationship with her; she assumed it may be because she was the last link to her mother, that perhaps it was too painful for her to be in the vicinity of her sister's only surviving child. Whatever the reason, Ireth understood that her Aunt was in pain, and forgave her.
Ireth, being on the more shy side of the coin, was quiet by nature and with lack of encouragement and even more importantly lack of friends and support, found herself to be something she didn't entirely like. She hated displeasing people. Her heart jumped in fear when someone was angered with her. But most importantly, she felt she wasn't important in the world she was in. In fact, she was almost sure of it. The need to make herself feel important, at least to her Aunt was so overwhelming at times she couldn't hear herself think. And it was at one of these moments where fate came into play. She hadn't been paying attention at all to her surroundings, and found herself in the middle of the road, the headlights of a big truck coming toward her. She didn't move, just stared with big brown eyes in fear at the lights. For a moment, she felt suspended in the air, and then just as quickly she felt herself drop and fall with a little thump onto soft grass.
She blinked up in surprise at the clear blue sky above her. What? She thought. Wasn't it eight o'clock? She sat up looking around in wonder. All she could see were hills and in the distance, snow-capped mountains. Inhaling, she felt her brows arch over her forehead. The air is so clean and fresh! Curiosity got the better of her, and she stood to look around, letting out a little yelp of surprise to see that the t-shirt and shorts she had on before she had seen the headlights were gone, and now replaced with worn looking clothes that were surprisingly light. She blinked, stunned, at the attire. She looked like she was straight out of Robin Hood. A cream colored tunic acted as an under shirt, keeping all her skin from her neck to her elbows hidden. Over that was a pale green vest, nearly matching the color of the grass, which hung just above her mid-thigh. Her trousers were the deepest green she'd ever seen, and nearly fit her like a second skin, the ends tucked into brown boots that reached up to her calves. A belt was tied around her waist, a strap lining with her leg until it connected with another belt wrapped around her thigh. She'd seen something like it before, in Tomb Raider. Only instead of a holster and gun, she had a knife and scabbard attached to hers. She wasn't sure if she should be worried about it or be in awe of it. The hilt was beautifully crafted with swirling designs that looked like leaves. Carefully, she let her finger glide over it, noticing the leather on her hands that wrapped over her forearms, palms and knuckles. She wouldn't have even noticed if her hands hadn't come into her view.
Wind blew at her, and once again she was surprised at the feel of a cloak at her neck as it whipped in the wind. It hung just to her calves, and was the same deep green as her pants. Curious, she felt the cloak between her fingers, surprised to find that it was much thicker than its weight let on and again her sight caught on something else that made her blink slowly in surprise. Her deep brown hair, which had always rested just below her shoulders, reached down and down to her waist, small tints of gold and red hidden in the brown strands.
A part of her mind was screaming that all of this was impossible and that none of this could possibly be real. Another part was too curious and eager to explore to care. And the part of her mind that she hated, but made up most of her mind anyways, was trying to figure out where to go to ask directions without being a burden on anyone. The only problem was that it seemed that no one was around, or at least she thought so until she thought she saw the gleam of something shiny just a stone throw away to her right. She turned, curiously and took a step, until something flew at her feet so fast it scared her, and with a little yelp of surprise took a step backward, tripped over her own feet and fell promptly on her butt. Her mouth hung open in shock as she blinked at an arrow sunken into the ground, just where she was about to step. And then when the blinked again, there were two swords, a stick and another arrow point at her. She blinked for a moment, looking at the men who surrounded her. They were all fairly pretty, save for the old man who was hidden behind a great big grey beard.
For a moment she could only stare at them in shocked silence until one of them spoke. Her eyes focused on the one closest to her. He had an arrow trailed on her with the string to an intricate bow held taught. She thought he was quite beautiful with bright blue eyes and shining blonde hair that reached just passed his shoulders. He spoke again in a strange language, a very serious expression on his face.
"W-what?" She stuttered softly, confusion and panic beginning to seep into her. Another look crossed the blondes face, but it was wiped clean before she could decipher it.
"Who are you? Why are you here?" One of the men holding the swords snapped. She flinched, swinging her gaze to the fearsome man. His red hair surprised her.
"M-my name is Ireth." She spoke, not sure how to answer his second question. She bit her lip, feeling her face turn red with the heady swirl of emotion she was feeling. The old man, who held a stick—no—a staff to her face, lowered it considerably, enough for her to feel at least a little less like she was going to die.
"Ireth." He said in his strong yet gravelly voice. "I know of no Elven Ladies with that name." He looked at the blonde who shook his head, and then to a dark haired man, holding the other sword. He shook his head.
"We should kill her. There is no reason for any kind of maiden to traipse about alone in these hills." The red head sneered, putting the tip of his sword under her chin. A squeak involuntarily escaped her lips. "She could be a spy, for all we know," The red haired man continued on.
Her? A spy? She couldn't even get away with sneaking a midnight snack, even when she was home alone. Something caught her attention as she ran the conversation through her head. "E-excuse me?"
The man fell silent as he looked at her, but she was looking at the old man, a frown tugging her eyebrows downward. "Yes?"
She hesitated only a moment, "W-what is an Elven Lady?"
They all blinked slowly at her, as if they couldn't believe she had just asked that. She gulped, feeling her cheeks burn in embarrassment.
"It is a female elf." The dark haired man supplied for her, lowering his sword, so that it pointed at the grass and not her face, yet was still drawn, just in case. Ireth frowned, feeling more confused, "what does a female elf have to do with me?"
She was sure she thought it, but she must have whispered it out, because it seemed they had all heard her.
"My dear," The old man started, an incredulous tone in his voice, "do you not know what you are?"
She blinked at him, and slowly spoke. "I am a human."
"No," this was the blonde man, and she swung her gaze back to him, looking at him with wide eyes, "you are an elf—like me."
She had the urge to laugh, but with the weight in the air, found the strength to push it away. "I do not understand. How can I be an elf? I am not—"she stopped speaking, frowning at herself.
"Enough with this, she is trying to distract us," The red haired man spoke, raising his sword so that she had to hold her head up in order to keep it from the soft skin of her neck. She looked up, wide-eyed, at the sky, thinking it weird that she would find herself to die on such a pretty day. Maybe this was a dream and she'd wake up in her room or possibly in a hospital bed.
"You face death, yet you do not shed sorrow?" the old man questioned her. She glanced at him and shrugged.
"It is just death. It comes one way or another." She was surprised at the solemnity in her voice—it rang with a feeling of gloom.
"Wise words for a human-elf." The old man chuckled, "Lower your sword Boromir. This elleth is no spy of Saruman."
The sword dropped from her neck with a scowl on the red haired man, Boromir's, face. She felt a sigh release from her body and brought a hand to her throat. She felt a chain brush her fingertip and quickly hooked her pinky to pull the chain loose from under her shirt. She still had the necklace her mother gave her when she was two. It was a silver butterfly pendant with Amethyst Stones acting as the wings and small diamonds to create the segmented body. It used to shine brilliantly in the light, but for eight long years, ever since the car accident, it's slowly lost nearly all of its brilliance. She saw that the old man, the blonde man and the dark-haired man, were all staring at the pendent with a certain amount of shock and disturbance. "Uhm," She hesitated, stuffing her necklace back into her shirt. "Do you know where I am?"
At their silence, she rushed on, "I seem to be lost. One moment, I was home and the next I am here. I only just awoke moments before you found me. If you could just tell me where the nearest town is, I will be on my way."
Another collective silence, and she soon found herself red faced and feeling very, very idiotic.
The dark haired one answered her question, "You are in Hollin."
She blinked, even more confused. "Hollin?"
She's never heard of it. Biting her lip, she looked at her knees. What was she supposed to do? If she doesn't have the tiniest inkling of where she is how was she supposed to find her way home? She took a breath, looking up. Her eye caught the shaft of the arrow sunken in before her. She tilted her head at it in curiosity. She looked at the men who had gone a few feet away and were now speaking quietly to each other.
They were dressed similarly to her, if a little more rough looking. They had middle-aged weapons on them that even from this distance she could tell were real and very, very sharp. She looked back at the arrow before her feet. They had thought she was a spy. They must be doing something important if they are that suspicious of people…but…she looked around at the barren green hills and rocky faces…they were the only ones around it seems. Standing, she dusted imaginary dirt off herself and wrapped her fingers around the shaft of the arrow and pulled it out of the ground. She was surprised to find not a stain of dirt on the arrow head nor any caked on to the shaft that had an intricate pattern carved into it.
"Have you not seen an arrow before?"
Ireth jumped in shock, not hearing the blonde elf approach her. She blinked at his amused look before shrugging her shoulders and staring at the ground.
"Not like this one. It is beautiful." She murmured, offering him the decorative end of the arrow. For some reason, she felt nervous. Ireth couldn't understand why until she heard a loud and obnoxious sounding voice. She felt her eyes go wide as she looked around until she saw the small group that threatened her doubled. She tilted her head in curiosity. They were all men, that she could tell, but one was super short, just a head shorter than her and the other four were not but children, with a pony strapped down with supplies behind them.
The blonde spoke again, "I am sorry for shooting at you."
Ireth looked at him, she could see his face was sincere. "You were protecting your companions. It is nothing to apologize for."
"Well spoken, Lady Ireth." The older man spoke, leaning on the stick he had pointed at her mere moments ago. Ireth was curious about him; she could tell he was ancient, yet the twinkle in his eye said that he was far stronger than the "old man" act he was pulling. From the corner of her eye, Ireth could see the others gather closer. The dark-haired man whispered something to the grey man, who nodded his head and looked to the others.
"This elleth here, is to come with us, for now. We don't have time to loose, we can make introductions later."
The very short man, who had a great, big, red beard with an ax strapped to his back spoke. "This journey is no place for a wee lass!"
Ireth recognized his voice as the voice she heard earlier that startled her. The grey man looked indignant as he spoke to the short man. "Master Dwarf, are you doubting my judgement?"
Ireth found it a little rude to call him a dwarf but it seemed to go over the short man's head like wind on a mountain. She looked to the blonde next to her, looking at him questioningly, "Master Dwarf?"
Amusement again in his face, but it was soon gone and he looked at her curiously. "You seem to be unaware of many things of our world. Did your parents not give you a tutor?"
A sharp pang struck through Ireth's chest. She looked at her hands, wondering if the "elf" could see the slight tremor in them. "My parents are no longer with me."
"I am sorry." The weight of a hand appeared on her shoulder, and squeezed in a reassuring manner. Taking a breath, she looked at the blonde elf and smiled at him, before looking off to the group who were waving them forward. She could see the man from earlier, Boromir if she remembered correctly, was glaring at her distastefully. She swallowed, putting at least three feet between them. Two of the children, one red headed and the other with mousy brown hair, whispered fiercely with each other, and on closer inspection, Ireth realized, they weren't children at all. They had the faces of middle-aged men, though there was a youthful look about them. Perhaps it was the mischievous glint in their eyes.
To Ireth, it seemed as if they had been walking for miles and miles, and that they'd been traveling for days. But as it turns out, they'd found her early morning, just after dawn and when they stopped it was only midday. None seemed to be particularly worn out to Ireth. Even the "Master Dwarf", seemed to be fine. Her on the other hand. She could feel the blood in her cheeks and the pounding of her heart in her chest, though she was glad she wasn't out of breath. That would be embarrassing. All they did was walk, it's not like they ran a great distances or anything.
The group had stopped at a place in the field littered with boulders and bushes. Not really sure what to do, Ireth stood to the side, watching curiously as the others started to make a camp. The elf, stood on the rocks looking around, before turning to say something to the dark-haired man.
"Now can we talk to her?" An impatient voice said. There was a grunt and suddenly there were two very small men in front of her. Ireth blinked at them. They couldn't have been any more than 4 feet tall, if not smaller. They were looking at her curiously, and Ireth couldn't help but smile shyly at them. "Hello."
"Good evening to you, my lady! I am Meriadoc Brandybuck! But you can call me Merry!" spoke the red-headed small one. He bowed from the waist down in a somewhat clumsy manner.
"And I am Peregrin Took! But friends call me Pippin!" The brown haired small one said, grinning toothily as he bowed slightly, before straightening.
"Good evening, Merry, Pippin. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Ireth Carafell."She ducked her head in a bow. When she looked up they looked eager to speak more with her until another small one shooed them away muttering about "not disturbing her with your nonsense."
"Good evening, ma'am. I am Samwise Gamgee." He spoke respectfully, if not a little bashfully. He was a carrot haired man, with warm brown eyes and a thick face. Ireth smiled at him. "Good evening, Samwise."
"Oh, you could just call me Sam, Miss Carefell." He tripped over her last name but Ireth didn't really mind.
"Please," she grinned, "call me Ireth."
"Miss Ireth, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Frodo Baggins of Bag End." Sam motioned to a dark haired, blue eyed small one. He had a wary expression as he smiled delicately at her. "Hello."
"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Frodo." Ireth smiled reassuringly at the small one, curious as to why everyone, well at least the tall ones seemed to be on edge. It must have something to do with their journey. She knew it was important, this journey, maybe so that it was classified information. She made up her mind not to ask anything of it. If they wish to trust her with the details they will do such.
After a moment of awkward silence, Sam decided he should start making a meal and moved to start a fire, Frodo asked Ireth if he would sit beside her. He was quiet, looking at his bare feet which were quite big and hairy for his size. Ireth wondered if he wished to speak with her or just wanted her companionship. She wasn't sure, so she remained silent and looked over to Merry and Pippin who had begun a mock-sword fight with Boromir.
He wasn't as awful as she first thought, as he was genially enjoying teaching the small men how to handle their swords. She smiled, figuring he was protective of his companions, which explained his distrustfulness and hostility towards her. She envied him for that. Never has she really ever spoken freely like he did, even if he was speaking about killing her.
She looked at Frodo, and pursed her lip. She really wanted to ask him what he was. He simply couldn't be human or an elf. "Frodo," She said hesitantly, continuing when he looked at her curiously. "I do not wish to be rude but, would you mind telling me what you and your friends are?"
She felt her cheeks turn red as she continued to speak, feeling her voice get softer and softer until her voice was a mere whisper. If Frodo hadn't been beside her, he wouldn't have caught her question. Frodo grinned at her, sensing her uneasiness with the question.
"It's not rude, Miss Ireth, many folks around do not know of Hobbits. We are Halflings."
"H-hobbits?" Ireth asked, feeling a ring of familiarity from the word. Frodo nodded and then motioned to the "Master Dwarf".
"That is Gimli, son of Gloin. He's a dwarf from the Lonely Mountain." Said dwarf was leaning on a large rock, smoking a pipe beside the grey man. He nodded to Ireth when he heard Frodo mention his name to the she-elf. Ireth looked from the hobbit to the dwarf in wonder. She was actually in the presence of creatures that were deemed non-existent in her world. And they thought she was an elf! She looked to the blonde elf, watching him curiously. They think she is the same as him? She was nowhere near as graceful nor beautiful as he. Then she let her gaze drift to the dark-haired man, surprised to find him staring at her. She felt her face flush and let her gaze drop to her hands.
"Who is he?" She asked quietly, letting her gaze drift sideways to Frodo, only he seemed preoccupied with something else. Frodo seemed lost deep into thought, fingering something in his pocket. A terrible, ill-feeling slid down Ireth's back. She felt scared all of a sudden. Of Frodo. When she tried to move, she found she couldn't, as if she were petrified.
"Get him!"
The sudden shout brought her out of the terror and she looked up surprised to find Boromir being tackled to the ground by Merry and Pippin.
"Ireth?" She jumped, looking at the grey man who had called her. He motioned for her to come forward, ignoring the remarks that the dwarf made about the directions of their journey.
"Yes,uhm…"Ireth paused, unsure of what to call him.
"Ah, yes, I am Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey." He spoke, and then motioned for her to sit beside him. As she did so, she noticed something in the sky. She looked at it curiously. It looked like a wisp of a cloud, as Gimli just suggested but it moved quickly.
"It…it looks like a flock of birds." She murmured.
"Crebain from Dunland!"
The dark haired man shouted for everyone to hide. In a flurry people started moving about. Sam put out the fire, Frodo grabbed his packs. The elf grabbed his quiver of arrows and soon everyone was diving under the bushes and hiding between rocks. A hand firmly gripped her arm, bringing her down under a bush, she felt herself slide over a body, and then get crushed between a rock and this persons back. A squeak was all she had managed to get out during the whole ordeal, but she couldn't say anything more as mere moments later the flock of birds were flying overhead cawing loudly and sending shivers up her back full of dread. She felt it important not to be seen and stiffened, not daring to even blink as she watched through the thick branches that covered her. The birds circled a few times before taking off in another direction. Ireth didn't move even when she felt the person who had hidden her leave.
"Spies of Saruman!" Gandalf said. "We must take the pass of Caradhras!"
She heard everyone start to move about, perhaps preparing camp or packing to leave, one thing Ireth was sure about was that this world she was in was nothing like her own and she would have to tread carefully and trust in these people. They seemed content to help her, though she did feel like she was imposing on their quest already.
"Ireth?" It was the elf, He was kneeling beside the bush she was under, lifting the branches to view her. "I apologize for handling you the way I did. Are you hurt?"
Ireth shook her head quickly, sliding from underneath the bush, taking the offered hand of the elf. "No, no, I'm alright. If you had not acted, I could have made more trouble for you and your companions." Ireth frowned, looking in the direction the birds went. "Those were not ordinary birds, were they?"
The elf, frowning, nodded. Ireth looked back at him and smiled. "Thank you…for helping me stand. Uhm...May I ask…what your name is?" She asked timidly.
"Legolas of Mirkwood." Was all he said before swinging his quiver, which had been dangling from his hand, onto his back.
The others had started to leave the cropping of rocks, and soon Ireth found herself scrambling to catch up. She could be wrong, but for a moment, she felt that Legolas did not wish to give her his name. Strange, she thought, could these people actually not want to help me? If so, then Ireth needs to find a town to part with them in and fast.
Ireth followed them, making sure to keep up. She had decided to walk beside the pony, Bill, that way she was out of the way and helping at the same time. Well, she hoped she was helping. It wasn't until it started getting cold that Ireth started to worry. They had headed in the direction of the mountain but she had figured they were headed to a path on the base. When the snow started to fall, she nearly panicked. If they were going on that mountain, they were greatly underdressed. But it seemed they were determined to get up that mountain. She kept her mouth shut, braving against the cold winds.