The ten companions were accompanied by Bill the pony, his main purpose was to bear the food and supplies that would be too weighty for the others to carry. The pony whickered happily, proud to have been chosen above the magnificent horses of Rivendell. The stubby legged beast swished its fair tail with its short strides.
They set forth immediately at an athletic pace; fortunately for Niamh, the Hobbits too had had little experience traversing great distances and so, once they had travelled a fair few leagues, the Hobbits were begging for a rest and elevenses - Hobbits could most certainly eat well! Niamh, who had pushed herself in order to stay amongst the middle of the pack, not wanting to appear a fragile burden, silently prayed they could halt for a little while, half an hour at the most would do them all wonders.
"Please, Gandalf," Peregrin, Pippin or Pip as he preferred, began mournfully. "We have done naught but trek since second breakfast -"
"And some of us didn't even get that!" Put in Sam, who had been in a moderate grump at having found out he had been denied this basic Hobbit right.
"Exactly," Continued Pip, "Hungry and tired Hobbits are surely of no use to this cause." Pleaded Pip, persuasively. He appeared to believe that he would waste away to nothing should he not eat hourly and excessively.
Gandalf chuckled. "You Hobbits and your seven meals a day!" He said laughingly.
"Seven?" Whispered Meriadoc, Merry, to Pippin. "Only seven?" He looked positively stricken at so few meals during the day.
The wizard pretended he had not heard this whilst the others openly smirked. "We shall rest, but we can ill-afford the luxury of elevenses on this journey, my young Hobbits."
The two youngest cast one another a forlorn glance, obviously they had not considered how scarce the food supplies would be, nor how much walking there would be involved. They also seemed discontented at their lack of weaponry; next to Niamh they had the fewest. Aragorn and Boromir were matched, but for Boromir's shield, with their array of long knives and swords; Gimli had mixed in with his axe some short knives and a mace; Legolas carried two bows, three sheaths of arrows, knives and a long sword. The Hobbits and Niamh each carried a single sword, no prizes for guessing whom they were trying to keep safe. Why give the helpless ones weapons they would only hurt themselves with?
Their rest was short, yet refreshing. They had sat for a while, the men playing cards, whilst Gandalf demonstrated his magical skill of creating fantastic figures and shapes from wisps of smoke as the Hobbits attempted to blow smoke rings. Niamh had settled herself with Gimli, whom had struck up a conversation upon noticing Niamh's necklace. Legolas sat alone, slightly off to one side obviously listening in with his super-strength Elf ears. Niamh did not exactly mind his eavesdropping, but she would have preferred him to be more open about it.
"That is quite a fantastical jewel you wear, lassie." Gimli grunted gruffly. "Where does one find such glittering gems?" Dwarves, she had discovered were great artisans and mined gems as well as metals.
"I know only what I am told of it," She said and began to tell the same story that Arwen had told her, of Varda and the imbibed magic of the Valar, carefully omitting what Arwen had said about giving it away, though she knew not why.
"…And so it was gifted to me by my mother." She finished lamely.
"Your mother gave you that?" Clearly, this had piqued the Elf's curiosity enough for him to give up his pretence of being otherwise occupied, as he wandered over and sat between the Halfling and Dwarf, effectively shutting Gimli from the conversation, maybe he disagreed with Niamh sharing Elven history with a Dwarf. Niamh knew about the Great War, but did not really care for the tensions between the two races.
"Not directly," she hedged, not wishing to divulge much about her mother's lack of interest in her. However, she had a persistent feeling the Elf knew more about this treasure than she did. "Why?"
Legolas struggled to find an answer for a few moments. "I've heard about it, many songs have been sung of the Star of Varda."
What had first glance had resembled an open lily, to Niamh at least, now shone bright as a star, mimicking the well-known shape, yet with more points. How could she have mistaken it? The revelation only fuelled her will to treasure it.
Well then, he definitely knew more about that necklace that hung at her throat than he knew about girls, maybe he was gay… Banishing the thought before she could lose her restraint and laugh in his face about something he would probably not find amusing. Relieving her from her thoughts, the Elf went on. "I suppose it is no wonder that you have come to possess it."
Something in his allusion made the Halfling uncomfortable; something in the way he leaned closer, whispering as though it were a topic only those with Elven blood were permitted to hear, his voice stone serious.
"And why might that be, Mr. Greenleaf? Why might one suppose that I, of all people, would gain this trinket?" She hissed back in teasing, playing absentmindedly with the necklace.
Legolas paused thoughtfully, trying to decide how best to phrase his next words. "You are the Lost Princess," He started, chuckling softly when she looked at him non-pulsed, her eyebrow cocked. "You have returned to Middle-earth in these Dark times to bring forth the Stars of tomorrow." He explained somewhat dramatically.
For a brief moment he seemed crestfallen, that she did not give him a look of wonder and delight, but instead a confused frown. He tried again. "On this quest you mimic Varda herself; with us you are trying to pierce the Darkness, bringing Light to people who you do not expect to be thanked by. That is why you deserve this shinning jewel; I think the Valar would not have changed its course away from you." His eyes never left hers the whole time he spoke, but as soon as the words halted, so did his gaze, Niamh thought she registered a faint blush creep into his cheeks.
Niamh could not find words to respond to this, was that how he really saw her - a reflection of a Queen of the Valar, sent to aid the free peoples of this world? God, this Elf was confusing.
It was then they noticed that everyone around them had been listening in, unashamedly; they did not even bother to look away once caught. "For the love of Elbereth," Cursed Legolas in an undertone, so that only Niamh could hear. "I did not realise our conversation were interesting enough so as to warrant the cease of your own." The Elf proclaimed loftily, challenging the others to apologise for their blatant nosiness.
To their credit, the others did avert their gaze and resume their previous business as though thoroughly chastened. The Hobbits in particular were evidently worried they might be in an awful lot of trouble and were very sorry.
"It doesn't matter, it's not like it was some great secret or anything." Niamh said brusquely, trying to diminish the sudden tension, smiling brightly. Patting the Elf's shoulder, the Halfling rose and strode to sit with the men, picking up their forgotten cards. "So, what are we playing?"
The men stared at her; it was unladylike for a woman to play cards, especially for them to play cards with men. Boromir had bitten down on a particularly cutting remark that would, in all likelihood, have sent most women into a monsoon of tears, but he doubted it would so much as scratch the surface with Niamh, for she was definitely not the average maiden. At the stunned silence, Niamh proceeded to shuffle the cards expertly, "Fine then," she muttered, dealing the whole deck. "We'll play Cheat."
"Cheat?" Questioned Boromir, having never heard of the game before.
Niamh smirked with triumph; perhaps they would not mind her playing cards with them if she introduced them to a new game. "Well, that's one of the more polite names of it, yes."
Boromir gave a confused look, but gathered his allocated cards, Aragorn following suit. "Let us play the Lady's game, then." Declared the Ranger, thoroughly delighted at the prospect of having a game that was new to him.
Niamh explained the rules and the games began. The rest of the Fellowship gathered around to observe this fascinating event. After three rounds Boromir, who was not too proficient at the game and not a good judge of when people were fibbing, announced that they had better move on.
Somehow, in playing cards with the men, Niamh had managed to alter the way the entire company treated her. They no longer thought so much of what they said, beginning to treat her as a friend; instead of keeping the conversation strictly phatic and fit for a lady's ears, they now discussed more masculine topics as they walked, laughing and joking as they went.
Over the next few days, they moved swiftly, though not as fast as before, thoroughly enjoying each other's company. They had not long since left the road surrounded by wood when they came to a rocky outcrop, scattered with scrubby bushes and taller rocks that formed small caves, which stretched about a mile in diameter, this is where they would stop for their lunch.
Frodo and Sam were left to concoct a meagre, especially by Hobbit standards, meal that mainly consisted of Lembas bread and a few sausages, they had Aragorn light them an adequate fire. Gandalf and Gimli were having a somewhat intense argument about which path they should take. Merry and Pippin spotted an opportunity to persuade Boromir to teach them a few moves with a sword.
"But you surely know some impressive sword-work; you are a warrior after all!" Urged Pippin, flattering the Gondorian. "If you could just show us a few tricks -"
"So we know how to use these when we need to." Finished Merry, pointing to his sword, reminding the warrior that these two rascals may yet need to fight on their journey.
Boromir agreed and began to show them a few things, using sticks as opposed to swords, thinking it better to have them know how to handle one before they used a real one.
Frodo brought Niamh some of the food and plopped himself down next to her. Niamh thanked him and offered for him to share her portion of Lembas, she was not too keen on the Elvish bread. The Hobbit was fantastic company, as he kept the conversation light and cheery. Hobbits were fast becoming her favourite race.
"My Lady?" He asked, shyly, already blushing at the thought of what he wanted to ask, taking the Lembas she handed him. Niamh nodded for him to continue. "I do not mean to offend you, but…" He trailed off, unsure of whether to ask or not, the girl smiled in encouragement. "May I ask… what you are exactly, if you don't mind my asking." His cheeks went a few shades deeper and he ducked his head, shielding himself from the backlash of any offence he may have caused.
The girl giggled and ruffled the young Hobbits hair. Once again, the others had paused to listen to her conversation, more inconspicuously this time, pretending to be distracted by other things, Niamh pretended not to notice. "Well," She began, blushing just as much as the Hobbit. "My mother was an Elf and my father was a Hobbit, so… I guess that makes me a Hoblf or an Elbit." She answered with a laugh.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the Elf's lips quirked upwards at the corners and Gandalf openly chortled alerting Frodo to the listening ears of the Fellowship. Niamh wondered if she would ever have a private conversation again.
"Princess?" Squeaked Sam in a small voice.
"I much prefer Niamh, you know." She responded, throwing a very pointed glare in the direction of Legolas who had no doubt convinced the young Hobbit that she just loved to be addressed by her title. "But go ahead," She said encouragingly to the flustered Hobbit.
"I was just wondering from where you have returned, my Lady. What is your home like?" Sam enquired, the Hobbits moved into a semi-circle before the girl's feet, the others following but not quite sitting in formation, waiting eagerly to hear what the Halfling had to say. Great. It felt like story time in nursery school.
"Err right, okay…" She stalled looking to Gandalf, whom nodded urging her to continue. "Well," She breathed. "I used to live in a place called Holdthorne -"
"Is that far from Rivendell?" Interrupted Pippin.
Gandalf prodded the Hobbit with his staff. "Fool of a Took! Do not speak once more whilst the Lady is regaling us with her story."
"No," She resumed. "My town is not in Middle-earth at all." The Hobbits shared puzzled faces. "It's a whole other world, quite literally." She smiled to herself.
"What was it like there?" Merry asked inquisitively.
Niamh thought of just how to explain it. "It is a small town, not nearly as beautiful as Rivendell. The whole place filled with grey buildings, not one single marble mansion." She laughed, finding the Hobbits look of disappointment hilarious. "But there's a lovely beach, though we don't enjoy it much, it rains often…" She dropped away in memory.
"Did you like it there? Do you miss your friends?" Sang Pippin, dragging her back to the present.
Niamh worded her answer carefully. "I never really had a lot of friends to miss." Nor any friends full stop, she thought. "It was never my favourite place," She went on. "To be honest I couldn't wait to get to University, that's where I was heading on the train when Gandalf and Aragorn dragged me here."
"What do you mean?" Asked Merry.
"Ah, well, I was supposed to be going away to study," Began Niamh, "Gandalf might be able to explain that better than I…" She glanced to the man in question. The Hobbits turned their expectant little eyes to the wizard.
"Ah, well, When Aragorn and had been to collect the Princess after all these years -" Gandalf broke-off, realising that Legolas had spotted something away into the distance.
Sam followed the Elf's eye line, noting that what appeared to be a dark cloud was creeping across the azure sky. "What is that?"
"'Tis naught but a wisp of cloud." Dismissed the Dwarf blatantly more engrossed in Niamh's tale than a bit of vapour.
Boromir stood, as though electrified. "It's moving fast," He paused examining the shape once more. "Against the wind."
Niamh stood, an ominous feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, freezing her insides, locking her muscles into place. She could see vague shapes merging and separating, her eyes slightly better than the average Hobbit or Man, but nothing compared to Legolas'.
The Elf strained his eyes, seeing beyond any of the others. Shapes came into focus, the jet-black lines of small, yet deadly, winged creatures, swept swiftly towards them.
"Crebain, from Dunland!" Announced Legolas, alerting those with knowledge of these animals that they were soon to be in danger.
Chaos followed. Niamh watched numbly, unable to move or speak, as Sam lead Bill the Pony to a safe hiding place and crouched by him, Frodo and the other Hobbits gathered up the supplies and put out the fire under Gandalf's orders. They all searched for cover, somewhere to hide, diving into bushes and under piles of rocks. Niamh felt hands close over each of her wrists. Looking up, unfrozen, she saw both Aragorn and Legolas were attempting to drag her under cover. Seeing Aragorn had grabbed her already, Legolas let go, allowing the Ranger to push the girl inside a cove in the larger rocks, and him to climb in afterwards. The Elf took a moment to recover his wits, leaping elegantly behind a patch of scrubby branches just in time.
As the Crebain moved overhead, screeching in their fel voices, filling the air with their sinister squeals, they circled for what seemed like forever. From her position, laid behind Aragorn, Niamh could see the Elf, staring, eyes boring into hers, his expression stony. Niamh did not like to imagine what she could have done wrong to him.
Several moments passed and eventually the strange creatures drifted away as quickly as they had come. Though they all waited for what seemed like an Age in case the beasts double back.
The companions extricated themselves from their hiding places, Aragorn helping Niamh to scramble out of the cove, which seemed to make Legolas even colder, his blue eyes turning to ice. The Hobbits shook, still jumpy from the scare.
"Spies of Saruman." Gandalf informed the rest of the company. "We can tarry here no longer; the passage south is watched." The wizard decided they should take the pass of Caradhras, much to the Dwarf's disapproval (he wanted to go through somewhere called Moria and would not stop moaning about it).
After re-packing their things, the Fellowship set-off back the way they had come, preparing themselves for a mountainside adventure.
