Olog disliked Galadriel strongly. She would hate her, but she had been informed that if she used that word again she would be punished. Therefore, Olog didn't hate Galadriel, but she disliked her strongly.

The first reason came in the struggle that occurred when the elves were informed that the Merry Party would be bringing an orc into Lothlorien. Then came the look Galadriel gave Olog, then the elves, then the Merry Party, when Olog stood before her. Finally, the mind-reading was putting her off a bit.

So this was why Olog was currently sulking in the darkest corner she could possibly find in Lothlorien, which was still mildly bright, as the whole place seemed to shine with a strange, irritating light.

Uldor found her first, and promptly informed her that hiding was a bad idea, as she had driven the elves around the bend looking for her to make sure she wasn't causing trouble.

Olog glared her most intense glare and promptly ordered him to, "Buzz off."

Uldor sighed and sat down next to Olog. "I had a talk with Galadriel. Well, I say talk."

Olog just continued to glare at him.

"She should treat you better now," said Uldor, then smiled, "She was quite interested in the idea, as well."

Olog's grumpiness didn't completely vanish, but it eased a little with her irritation and curiosity. "What?"

"Oh, I just wondered, if an orc was good enough, would it turn into an elf? I suppose you're going to prove if that's true or not, travelling around with the Merry Party and all. So long as you don't say the word hate."

Olog stared at him in shock, then that shock turned to irritation, then anger.

"You think I would want to turn into an elf? Bah! Such a vile race!"

A passing elf stuck her tongue out at Olog.

"They're so high and mighty, arrogant and vain! What makes them so special, anyway? I would rather stay an orc, to prove you wrong!"

...

Uldor stood up abruptly. His face was stern.

"If you don't want to change what you are, thats fine with me. You don't have to. I thought you'd be happier as an 's all I wanted you to be: happy. I protected you for your safety and took you away from Sauron's domain so that we might have a second chance. I'm sorry if the elves and I came off as vain."

Uldor turned and disappeared into the grey forest towards the glowing camp of the elves. Olog watched him in disgust. The wood elves were sitting in a circle at the base of a large mallorn. They were telling stories, singing songs, and eating food other than lembas bread. When Uldor joined the circle Aredhel clapped him on the back and handed him a cup of wine. Maglor was offering the Easterling his harp and was insisting that he play them a song. Uldor laughed and tried to push that instrument away, but he lost. The man downed his wine and stood up. His singing was out of tune and he had no idea how to play the harp, but the Lothlorien elves were laughing and clapping their hands. The simmering light from the silver trees rested upon Uldor's face. As he was dancing, he smiled brightly showing his dimples and white teeth. Olog stormed off in the opposite direction.

She didn't care if the elven folk thought she was up to no good.

She didn't care that the merry party treated her like dangerous unnecessary baggage.

And she certainly didn't care if Uldor despised her.

You only think he hates you. You push everyone away.

She told her mind to shut-up, but the voice came again.

I know what you seek.

Olog adjusted her eyes to the dark and between the grey trunks, she saw a glowing white form shimmering through the trees. The lady Galadriel gestured for her to follow. She led the orc though a green hedge and into an enclosed garden. Underneath the open sky there lay a pool in a large basin. The pearly clear water reflected the light of Varda's stars.

"Will you look into the mirror?" The elf queen asked.

…

When Arabella woke the next morning she, Bombadil, and Goldberry began the journey to the inn. They put on their travelling cloaks, packed food and supplies onto Fatty Lumpkin, and began making their way through the Old Forest. The morning mist still hung around the trees and chilled the air around them. Arabella hoped that the ruffians would be more interested in hunting wild beast than pursuing them. And above that, she hoped that that the ruffians were more interested in pursuing them than pillaging the Shire and attacking everyone she knew and loved. She concealed her fear and bravely continued through the fog.

Goldberry stopped. "Do you see that?" She asked staring into the wood.

Bombadil stopped his whistling. "See what, river daughter?" He asked.

"There!" she pointed into the growth.

Arabella strained her eyes. A figure in a dark cloak lurked under the tall pines.

"Reveal yourself to Old Tom, Stranger," said Bombadil firmly.

From under the trees the man strode forward. He removed the hood, revealing his face. He was definitely one of Saruman's men, but not just any thug. He was the same man that saved her from the grizzly under the old tree. Arabella drew her knife.

…