Sleep evaded Rahlsma for most of the night. The comfortable bed felt strange to her body, and the habit of constantly listening for danger was hard to stop, even though she knew she was safer here than probably anywhere else in Middle Earth. To make matters worse, it was impossible not to think about how close she was to the ring of power and wonder what she could accomplish if it were in her possession, or what any of the others might do if they were to take it.

She awoke again for what felt like the millionth time, and figuring the sun would soon dawn, decided to give up on sleep. She retrieved her knife from beneath the pillow and returned it to the sheath on her belt before fastening it around her waist. The clothing she had worn there had been returned, looking – and smelling – like new, but she remained in her more Elvish attire, adding only her boots, as she left her room and quietly wandered throughout the open-aired halls of Lord Elrond's house.

Deciding to return to one of her old favorite places, she came to an abrupt stop as she neared an upcoming corner. She had heard something strange, something that almost sounded like a whisper, but not quite. Hand on the hilt of her knife, she stood unmoving, straining her ears to pick up whatever – or whoever – the noise had been. But now there was only the peaceful sounds of a subdued and peaceful Rivendell as the darkness of night slowly began to fade and reveal faint morning light.

She did not draw her knife but kept her hand at the ready as she cautiously approached the corner. Her tension faded away as soon as she had peeked around it. It was just one of the hobbits. She released her grip on the weapon and momentarily studied the small creature. Based on his size, shape, and the back of his curly head, she would guess it was Frodo, no doubt kept awake by many thoughts and fears preoccupying his small form.

This feeling of compassion was cut short by a dangerous thought. Rahlsma knew well that he wore the ring on a chain clasped around his neck. She swallowed. It would be so easy. She pictured herself sneaking behind him, knocking him out, and taking the ring. She could hide him in her room and be ready to leave in hardly any time at all, giving any woodland guard the excuse of an important errand from Gandalf. By the time they realized what had happened, she would have the necessary head start. And they could not exactly spread the word that the ring had been stolen. It would be far too risky.

Only her promise to Aragorn gave her pause.

"Who's there?" Frodo's voice called out quietly, and he turned slightly towards her direction. "Show yourself." He was trying to sound confident, but the woman could hear the fear.

Rahlsma stepped from the shadows of the corner, her hands held up in a sign of peace. "I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you." She hoped she sounded sincere, but she was doubting her own intentions as she moved slightly closer to him.

"I find I am a lot more jumpy than I used to be," he replied sheepishly.

"That is good." She walked past the bench and leaned against the balcony ledge, facing him and crossing her arms over her chest. "I think being overly aware is far better than the alternative."

He gave her a weak smile. "Perhaps it just takes some getting used to." They were both silent for a moment, he studying her in the early haze of dawn as she looked out over the beauty surrounding them. "Do you always rise so early?"

"I am accustomed to little sleep. You?"

"I prefer more." He quickly changed the subject. "It must have been amazing growing up here."

Rahlsma glanced at the surrounding landscape before returning her eyes to his and answering. "I am afraid I was too busy planning my many escapes to appreciate it as much as I could have."

"Escapes?"

"Well, rules and expectations are hard to adjust to after spending most of your young life as a vagrant. They seemed too high a price to pay…even for all of this."

Frodo nodded slightly, and she noticed for the first time the seriousness that dwelled deep behind his eyes. They sat like this for a while in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. And then Rahlsma heard the whispering sound once more. But this time, it was more than just a noise; she could clearly make out words. The hobbit did not miss her posture become alert nor her eyes dart to either side.

"What is it?" he asked her, but she looked at him, expressionless, and did not answer. But he knew. "Does it speak to you, as well?"

One of Rahlsma's eyes barely twitched, but other than that, her face did not change. And still she did not speak. So Frodo continued, instead. "I would have thought I was going mad, but Gandalf told me he had heard its voice before, too. It tempted him."

Rahlsma slowly nodded, still not confessing any of her thoughts regarding the ring. "And what would it say to its bearer?"

His eyes pierced her own. "The same message it gives to everyone - great and terrible lies."

She stared back as long as she could before lowering her gaze to the ground. They stayed this way, in silence, for some time, until Rahlsma excused herself and left the hobbit alone once more.


Rahlsma felt an intense desire to be by herself after her early morning conversation with Frodo, so after leaving him she moved quietly towards the stables. She passed a few Elves, beginning their daily work and rituals, but Rivendell was still mostly quiet.

"Hello there, girl," Rahlsma greeted her beloved horse, Muineth, with a smile, petting her face. She looked at the nearby trough where crumbs of carrots and small sticks of hay lay at the bottom. "We stay here too long and we are likely to grow thick like the hobbits." She gently ran her hands over more of the horse's body before her restlessness grew too great to ignore.

Spotting her bow and quiver leaning near her saddle in the corner, she grabbed the weapons and slung them over her head and onto her back. She left the saddle where it was, and opened the low door, allowing Muineth to follow her out of her stable and into the open air, which was growing ever lighter as dawn approached. She led the dark animal near a small ledge that she hopped onto, making it easier to jump onto its bare back.

"Let us see what hunting skills we have when our stomachs are full."

They started out slowly as they left the edge of Rivendell's core and entered into the surrounding forest. They had spent many days riding hard towards the valley, so both rider and horse were content to meander throughout the woods at a relaxed pace. Rahlsma could still feel the tension around her, but it was easier to ignore as the birds began to sing their morning songs.

Once deep enough in the thickening woods, Rahlsma rode Muineth close to a tree branch just the right height to easily climb onto without having to dismount. She left the horse to browse as it wished while she climbed higher from branch to branch, staying close to the trunk as she ascended. Finding a secure enough place to stop and sit with a good view of the surrounding area, she braced her back against the bark and notched an arrow. Then, for a long time, she was still and waited.

Every so often, there would be a scurry of a chipmunk or other small creature, but she was in no rush and was in no way desperate for meat today. No, today she could easily risk losing a kill for the hope of a larger prize to bring back to her hosts.

As much as a part of her enjoyed being back in Rivendell, she felt much more at ease alone in the tree in its borders. During the long stretches between sights of prey, she contemplated all that she had learned in her short time there. She imagined the different choices facing herself and the others, considering all of the possible outcomes and how she would react.

It was nearing mid-morning when her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of steps approaching. She listened intently, not yet able to see what was making the noise; she imagined it was a four-legged animal, not a small one, but treading lightly. Sure enough, a descent sized doe moved into her view. A clean shot was not available, so she continued to breathe slowly and just observe, grateful that Muineth has wandered away some time ago.

Her prey munched on a small patch of grass, slowly moving forward before leaning down and eating some more. If she continued in this direction, Rahlsma would have a pretty clear shot, so she slowly and silently pulled back the bowstring, still waiting for the right moment. The deer walked a little further, not quite where the woman wanted it to be. Suddenly, a stick snapped nearby and the animal looked up, alarmed. She sniffed in the air and braced herself to run, but as soon as she leapt, the arrow from above was released and stuck itself into her side.

The wounded animal stumbled but recovered and ran out of sight. Rahlsma quickly slung her bow onto her back and climbed down while scanning the area for Muineth, who was nowhere to be seen. They would have to find each other later. Once low enough, she dropped to the ground and immediately began moving in the direction her prey had moved.

Every few yards, she was able to spot blood either on the ground or rubbed onto parts of the underbrush. She tracked the signs until she heard a rustling just ahead and quietly crept close enough to see the doe struggling on the ground, trying but failing to rise up on its hooves. Drawing the knife at her side, she moved quickly to approach it from behind. She waited until it had just fallen again and then, in one swift motion, she came up alongside it, held the neck to the ground, and deftly slit its throat. It twitched a moment longer and then was still.

Rahlsma released her breath and removed her hand from the body, wiping her knife clean on the hide before sliding it back into its place on her belt. Standing up straight, she looked around and listened for any sign of her horse. Nothing. She whistled a specific call and waited, hoping that Muineth might be close enough to hear. When a few moments had passed and still she was standing there alone, she took a deep breath and leaned down to grab the two back legs of her kill, holding one on each side of her body and dragging the carcass behind her as she returned the way she came.

She was sweaty and tiring when, about halfway back by her estimation, she heard horse hooves approaching. Gratefully dropping the deer's legs to the ground and wiping her brow with her sleeve, she was surprised to see Legolas riding a grey steed towards her.

"I had hoped you were Muineth," she said up to the tall elf who had yet to dismount.

"I am sorry to disappoint. I am afraid she has used her freedom to return to the awaiting vegetables in the stables."

Rahlsma shook her head. "I should have known as much."

They were awkwardly quiet a moment until Legolas gestured to the dead dear and said, "Preparing for your departure so soon?"

"Now it is my turn to disappoint." She exhaled loudly and added, "No, I simply do not like to be a burden."

"You were awake early for someone who has travelled so far of late."

"I was unaware I was being watched," she responded, her tone harsher than she intended.

Legolas lips curved slightly upwards. "I cannot be blamed for noticing my surroundings, as I am certain you would agree."

She crossed her arms and turned her gaze back upon the carcass near her feet. "Since you are such a keen observer, surely you have taken note that I have been forced to drag my kill across the forest."

His smile grew somewhat. "Yes. And I would ask why you did not simply tie the horse to a nearby tree, but my keen insight has already led me to a sound conclusion."

He had expected a quick, sharp response from the young woman, and she indeed looked like she wanted to do just that. But instead, after a moment's pause, she lowered her body and picked up the doe's legs once more. "Well, I had better not waste any more time, then," she said with a nod and continued in the direction of the city boundary.

Legolas did not let his surprise reach his face, but Rahlsma was not looking, regardless. He continued sitting on the horse, unmoving, watching her pull what he knew was a heavy weight behind her. She had travelled a dozen or so paces before he finally called out to her, "Are you really so stubborn?"

Hearing only a grunt in response, he rode directly in her path, causing her to stop again and look up at him. He gracefully slid to the ground and looked directly into her eyes as he said, "Well, I am not so heartless."


Later that morning, a freshly cleaned Rahlsma leaned on the desk of Bilbo while the aging hobbit sat on his stool, quill in hand. "And what of this river here?" He asked her. "Do you think it curves up this far?"

She put a finger to her lip and tapped it a few times before pointing it at the map beneath them. "I think so," she said slowly. "I believe it meets these woods here, though it stays at their edge."

Bilbo looked at her with irritation. "Believe? Should you not know? I thought you have travelled that way many times!"

She straightened and rolled her eyes. "I have. But I am not a bird, Bilbo. I see the terrain from a much different view, you know."

"Of course, of course," he muttered, his face softening as he continued to move ink across parchment. They were both silent for a time until he snorted and said, "It is funny, when I was off on my grand adventure, all I ever wanted was to be back home in my comfy bed surrounded by my stores of food. But once I had returned…well, after a time, you begin to feel as if something about it is different, has changed somehow. Then, one day, you realize it is not the place that has changed at all." He looked at Rahlsma and saw no understanding in her eyes, only attentiveness. "Though I suppose your experience has been quite different. Rolling stones gather no moss and all that," he said with a wink.

She smiled a slight, tired-looking smile. Bilbo thought it was much too old of a look for one with her number of years. He made no mention of it before continuing on. "I worry for my nephew, you know. It is because of me he must go on this journey…so different from my own…" he sighed. "I trust Aragorn and yourself to help Gandalf look after him."

"Bilbo, I am not part of the fellowship," Rahlsma responded, as if exasperated to have to keep reminding everyone of this fact.

"I know. But you will do what you can, yes?"

She looked into his bright, hopeful eyes and slowly nodded. "Of course." He patted her arm a few times as one side of her lips upturned slightly. "Though I am not one to act out of charity alone."

The hobbit's eyes narrowed as he crossed his small arms across his chest. "And what is your price?"

"I have been thinking I may need a new map drawn up…"

"Well," Bilbo said with a slight huff, "you know I can do that. And will you be requiring anything else?"

Rahlsma's face gleamed with mischief. "Now that you mention it, I tend to remember being rather fond of a certain song sung by a certain retired burglar."

Bilbo brushed the thought away with the flick of his wrist before he began to clear away the many papers and things on his desk, making room for a fresh piece of parchment. Once he settled back down after all of the bustle, he looked at the young woman once more. "Would you like a map of all of Middle Earth or…"

"Of whatever lies between here and Mordor, I suppose."

The old hobbit smiled widely. "Splendid."

She watched him a short while before she realized he was humming an old, familiar tune while he worked. She sat on a nearby bench and listened contently as he began to quietly sing:

"Roads go ever ever on, over rock and under tree, by caves where never sun has shone, by streams that never find the sea…"

A/N Thank you so much to all who have read my story so far, and especially to Literary Melody, Certh, Calllisto, Redder45, & .Rosea for reviewing, following, and/or making this story one of your favorites! Because of the thoughtful reviews and my own thinking about my OC, I have decided to re-boot this a bit (better now than later, right?), which I think will make a better beginning as well as enrich the story more as it continues. I hope you come back to check it out when it's posted : )