Author's Note: Well, a new chapter. A longer one than the last, for sure. The Hobbit movie came out for buying on iTunes, and that's what I've been doing, which is sad, but true. Sorry about the wait. All of the work I skipped updating every other day earlier on in the story caught up to me as well. But, I hope you like it! Enjoy! XD

Reviews: An author's bane and an author's soul. My soul is empty. Please fill?


Chapter 6: You Want the Truth? You Can't Handle the Truth!

I walked into the forest with the rest of the Fellowship, leaves shaking in the wind around the edges of the enchanted woods. I looked around, enjoying the beautiful vegetation, but also waiting to hear the whisper of a soft footstep or the breath of movement caused by lithe elven figures. There was no doubt about it; we were being watched. I could feel it in my stomach, a tingle that spread from my head to my toes. Was this what being stalked felt like?

I heard Gimli say from behind me, "Stay close, young hobbits! They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch, of terrible power," I resisted the urge to go all nerdy fangirl on Gimli and explain, in detail, who Galadriel, the elf the dwarf was talking about, really was, "All who look upon her fall under her spell, and are never seen again." Ah, the misconceptions of dwarves.

A whisper came, not from the world around me, but in my head. "A magic ring you bear. You...are not Merilieth." I swore to myself silently after what must've been Galadriel's voice spoke. Didn't Gandalf say that the chick who had this form hated magic rings? "There goes everything," I thought to myself bitterly. I pulled up my hood, nervous of anyone in the realm of Lórien recognizing me.

"Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

Once Gimli was done praising his not-so-wonderful-as-he-claimed senses, an arrow pointed at my face. It was so for the rest of the Fellowship as well, and Legolas pointed an arrow right back. What a smart thing to do. After all, it's not like we were surrounded. Ah-hem.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark." Aragorn bowed slightly, showing respect before the Marchwarden of Lórien.

"One of them. I am too, human." Merilieth decided to chime in with great timing once again, pointing out her role in the upkeep of Lórien. I shushed her with a thought.

Before Aragorn could say anything, Haldir turned towards me. "Merilileth, I am glad to see you are unharmed," he said in Elvish, smiling and turning back to business as usual. Well, not so usual.

I looked down until we started to go into the interior of Lothlórien. I walked next to Gimli, who clearly didn't like that we were actually going into the enchanted forest of the big bad elves.

"I promise you, Master Dwarf, that you would like Lothlórien very much once the rumors that wander in and out of the lands outside have passed through your mind and heart and leave, forever to quaver before the beauty of the Lady," I said to Gimli softly, so as not to get Haldir's attention once more.

"Bah! You are an elf, after all. Of course you would think so. Pretty words shall not change my mind that this forest was not a good idea from the beginning of the plan to come to. I do not like this place at all, lass," said the thick-necked dwarf, who would change his mind before the end of our stay in Lorien, whether he liked it or not. But he'd like it. And more than that: a dwarf would come to appreciate the beauty of the oldest, wisest, and fairest elf in the East. But then, Elrond... I smiled to myself at my little obsession with the dude.

Boromir came near Gimli and I and leaned over to whisper, "I have heard tales that once you look into the eyes of the Lady of the Wood, you can not leave, and you are forever bewitched by her. Is this so?" His voice held a trace of doubt nor fear, but also a hint of wonder, probably from all of the rumors he had heard.

"No. The Lady, if she bewitches you, shall only bewitch you with her kindness and fairness. She won't bite," I said nonchalantly.

"I know she won't bite," said Boromir, confused, "is this a saying of the elves?"

I swore at myself at my slip into the culture of Earth, and smiled a strained smile at Boromir.

"No, just one of my own, odder sayings." Not completely a lie. Not like anyone else in Middle-Earth was from my home.

Boromir nodded in understanding, and the rest of the trip was spent in silence and a sense of awe at the natural wonder of the forest.

Tall Mallorn trees tipped with golden leaves and covered with a light grey bark rose to an unmeasurable height above, towering over us all, and also giving me a sense of safety. The path was easy to traverse, and the air, though cold, was pleasant. The frigid and biting wind outside of the woods did not touch our weary bodies, and the breath of the air of Lothlórien rejuvenated me with its fresh touch and pleasant scent of pine and mist.

Soon, night fell, and we all needed a rest, except for maybe Haldir and his brothers, Rúmil and Orophin. They didn't run through a fourth of Moria, witness Gandalf's fall, and then high-tail it who knows how far to reach where we were now. Unlike us. A sigh escaped my lips when I thought of how sore I would be tomorrow.

High above, platforms with no railings were perched high up in the trees. The hobbits climbed up onto one with Haldir and his brothers, and the rest of us climbed into the platform, which the elves called a talan, in a tree next to the hobbits'. Legolas and I were told in hushed whispers beforehand to keep an eye on the dwarf, who had to have been argued for to stay with the rest of the Fellowship. After all, elves and dwarves didn't mix too well, usually.

This night was not a fun night, an understatement of great magnitude. I slept, or tried to, near the very edge of the talan, way too high above the ground, away from Legolas. Every time I got near him, it was just so awkward.

So, besides the massive distance between me and the ground, Merilieth also kept me awake in my head, talking and talking and talking.

"Do not isolate yourself with Haldir, Orophin, and Rúmil. They know me very well, and should be able to tell that you are not me. Lady Galadriel already knows of your ruse, so try not to let anyone else find out until the pain of Mithrandir's passing has somewhat faded from the others' hearts. And, for goodness sakes, could you try not to be so friendly with the dwarf?"

I scowled at her last comment and ruffled in my bag for my Blackberry and headphones. I turned on some random song, ironically a Lord of the Rings song. "Into the West."

"What can you see...on the horizon..." I hummed to myself, drawing the attention of Legolas. My hood was up, so he didn't see the headphones. He walked over. I stuck my hand in my inside cloak pocket that hid the phone and hurriedly paused my music blindly, used to the motion, so if he talked I would hear clearly.

"Why could you not have told us? We could have saved Mithrandir. We could have..." Legolas looked confused and lost, not understanding death or why anyone had to die. I was sympathetic, as he was an immortal elf who not often expected these things to happen.

"Legolas...I am sorry. I never meant to..."

Legolas was silent at my hesitation.

"I couldn't have helped him, even if Sauron himself held me at sword point."

The awkward silence lasted through the night, but Legolas did not move.


I sat there, unmoving, for a long while before cries penetrated the night. Orcs, coming to Lothlórien after us. I wasn't worried though. I trusted in Haldir to gather a force to guard the forest's borders.

The cries and heavy footfalls vanished from my hearing when the sky visible through the canopy of the trees had considerably lightened. The last star faded away in the brilliance of the sun, who's rays penetrated through the yellow leaves and cast a warm golden light onto the forest floor. Haldir soon came for us to continue our journey into Lothlórien.

Birds sang all the brighter as we continued and the wind became soft, caressing our faces with its cool hand, and not and slicing like a knife at our cheeks. The air had scents of the forest, but also something else in its invisible and light mass, something that would even lighten Frodo's heart, what with his hidden burden.

However, I couldn't long enjoy the sights around me, as events that soon came to pass proved.

We had crossed over the icy cold river Silverlode on a thin rope that served as a bridge. Pippin, usually the one to mess stuff up, was surprisingly good at this. Sam, however, inched across slowly and shakily, trying not to look down but ultimately failing.

"Now, friends," said Haldir calmly, "you have entered the Naith of Lórien, or the Gore, as you would say, for it is the land that lies like a spearhead between the arms of Silverlode and Anduin the Great. We allow no strangers to spy out the secrets of the Naith. Few indeed are permitted to set foot there. As was agreed, I shall here blindfold the eyes of Gimli the Dwarf. the others may walk free for a while, until we come nearer to our dwellings, down in Egladil, in the Angle between the waters."

Gimli, needless to say, was not a happy camper at this point.

"The agreement was made without my consent. I will not walk blindfold, like a beggar or a prisoner. And I am no spy. my folk had never had dealings with any of the servants of the Enemy. Neither have we done harm to the Elves. I am not more likely to betray you than Legolas, or any other of my companions." I agreed with him, and made to say something in his defense, when Merilieth hissed at me to be like her and hate on dwarves.

So it was soon decided, with no lack of tension in the free air, that we would all go blindfolded. The dark cloth was put over my eyes, and I heard Haldir, who put the blindfold on, whisper "I am sorry."

I did not reply, but merely hummed quietly as a response. Darkness fell over my sense of sight. I did not struggle or wriggle about, to find my position relative to the others of the Fellowship. Instead, I stood still and relied on my even more heightened senses due to the loss of sight. The brush of a leaf on my ankle as we walked, the noise of the echoing wind, the scent of...oh. Methinks a certain dwarf needed a bath. Very badly, too. Yuck. How often did he bathe?

Onward we went and none feared being bumped into, for the elves led us on safely and surely. The ground lay flat and smooth beneath our feet and I relaxed, listening to the beauteous sounds of nature. However, even my elven ears did not detect a silent host of elves behind us that treaded with light footsteps upon the undergrowth. It was them who had dispatched the orcs that had followed the Fellowship before.

Haldir explained this and other things to us. "Also, they bring me a message from the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. You are all to walk free, even the dwarf Gimli. It seems that the Lady knows who and what is each member of your Company. New messages have come from Rivendell perhaps." Our blindfolds were removed promptly. My eyes uncovered, I sought the source of the stench I sniffed earlier, only to see it to be Aragorn. I giggled quietly.

Before us stood the stairway that would take us to Galadriel and her mate, Celeborn. I stared in awe at the tall, winding structure that shone with many lights, shimmering with a hint of transparency. Flowers were dotted here and there in shades that were not seen on Earth, blues and whites and lavenders that swayed dreamily, spreading their scent over our heads.

The climb up was long, and even at the slow pace, the hobbits with their short legs and relatively round stomachs seemed to have a little trouble after a while. Gimli with his heavy armor and weapons must've had an even harder time, yet he went uncomplaining and even encouraged the hobbits in his blustery dwarvish way.

We reached a platform with a white and open on the sides, intricately designed dome-thing. The beauty of Lothlórien, however, with its natural wonder, was nothing compared to the Lord and Lady of the Wood walking down the stairs of the structure gently and gracefully.

They shone with a light aura that radiated peace and love and all of the nice things that were kept in the hearts of the good in Middle-Earth. The Lady Galadriel looked into my eyes, and I felt as if they were looking into my soul.

Aragorn inclined his head in respect, and I followed suit, urged by Merilieth, it seemed, to get down on one knee and bow to the fair elven pair.

I rose once a short moment had past, again of Merilieth's accord. I hissed angrily at her inside of my head, telling her not to ever control me like that again unless my life was at stake. She just shushed me impatiently, so she could hear the words of her Lord and Lady. Goody-two shoes.

"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." Celeborn paused. "Nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

I looked down at my feet, away from his face, and closed my eyes. In front of me, Legolas slouched slightly.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow," said Galadriel in a soft voice.

"He was taken by both shadow and flame," said Legolas heavily, "a Balrog of Morgoth." As his words sunk in, a sad silence blanketed all other things. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." Gimli looked down slowly.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," said Galadriel, seeing Gimli's hurt and pain, "We do not yet know his full purpose." Gimli sighed as the Lady paused for a moment, looking around at the Fellowship's individual faces. She met mine like all others. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-Dum fill your heart, Gimli son of Gloin." At his own language, Gimli looked up. "For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands love is now mingled with grief."

She looked at Boromir piercingly, and the Man of Gondor held back shudders.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." Celeborn's monotone voice hid emotion.

"The quest stands on the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the Company is true," Galadriel paused and looked off into the distance, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace."

A whisper rang in my head, one that was not as soft as the owner's voice. Galadriel.

"You may deceive us all, yet I do not sense that your heart is untrue, mortal. I hope that you do not fail this quest like I have perceived it to be. Be honest to the Fellowship, for otherwise, the Quest will die."


We sat at the nook of a tree, resting calmly and peacefully, for once. We had spent several days resting in Lothlórien, and the grief of Gandalf's end had not yet faded from our hearts, but had definitely not seemed so deep. It was then that Galadriel called for me near midday, when I was practicing archery with Legolas. He had still been closed off, and I had been alike. It was Aragorn's suggestion that we did so, for the sake of keeping our skills up.

Haldir appeared from beyond the archery range gates. "Merilieth, the Lady requires your presence." He led me with a gesture of his head to follow him. I spared no glance at Legolas as I collected my arrows from the middle of the target and left.

He led me to a little glade, with a basin filled with clear, passive water in the middle, perched upon stone. The Lady of the Wood stood before it, opposite us.

Haldir excused himself and I bowed before Galadriel.

"You are not Merilieth, correct?" I stared at her sudden boldness.

"No...no I am not. But...how...?"

"How do I know this? You are not quite like Merilieth, not in mind. Not at all. What is your real name, child?"

I blanched. "Um...Alex Forths? I'm not from here. I'm sorry, my lady, is that why you called me here?"

"No. You were called here to look into the Mirror. It shows things that have come to pass, and also things that have yet to happen. It shows the present as well. I think that you must look, for maybe it will reveal why exactly you were summoned to Arda."

Her words were spoken with a normal and calm tone of voice, yet held an urgency I couldn't ignore.

I walked forward hesitantly towards the basin. I peeked over the edge of the bowl, and saw something I didn't expect.


Fire. Lots of fire. Flames licked around the edges of the image as Boromir stood in Gondor with Theoden, the King of Rohan, and Boromir's brother, Faramir. But something was not right. Aragorn was there, too. So...shouldn't Boromir and Theoden have died by then?

But they weren't dead.

The white city of Gondor, Minas Tirith, was crumbling, slowly but surely, to the ground. Its white purity was tainted by a dark sky above and a ray of angry red light shining on the gathering of Men. The rest of the Fellowship was nowhere to be seen.

Outside of the city's walls, a battle raged, of fiercer intensity than the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. The frame spanned out, and only Frodo, no Gollum or Sam, lay weak and motionless in the midst of Mordor. The Ring was gone from his neck.

The image zoomed in close to a trio of fighters defending the gates of the White City in vain. I gasped...Gimli and Legolas stood defending me from a barrage of orcs. First Gimli fell, and then Legolas. Tears sprang from my eyes as feet ran over our limp pile of bodies, to be cold forever more.

The frame blurred to show Aragorn, Theoden, Faramir, Eomer, and Boromir being publicly executed before all of their troops, their loyal men. Their cities. Their loved ones.

The executioner was Sauron himself.

A glint of gold shimmered in the air near the handle of the axe in Sauron's hand as the blade fell and heads rolled.


I wrenched myself away from the water, panting, sobbing, crying, trying not to appear weak before the Lady of Lórien.

I failed.

"That is what shall come to pass should you try to change the fate of anyone in Middle-Earth. Should you not tell anyone of your true past, a similar doom shall befall the Fellowship as it will crumble, not knowing who to trust."

"I...c-could not b-b-be the cause of all th-th-th-this, right? I m-m-mean..." I sighed and stuttered, words ungracefully falling out of my mouth like boulders in an avalanche.

"If the Fellowship breaks, all shall fail. You must tell the Fellowship of the truth.


And so I did. I returned from my meeting with Galadriel during their supper and told them.

"What do you mean, you are not from here?" Pippin asked, his mouth full of mushrooms.

"Why haven't you told us this before, when you first met us?" asked Merry.

"So you are not an elf?" Gimli asked gruffly.

Aragorn motioned with his hand to go one at a time.

"Why would you trick us?" asked Boromir. Great, the one guy I wanted to feel good and trusted before his untimely death.

"I had to. My duty is to make sure the Quest goes on as it did in my books, but I can not tell you of what is to come. Trust me, I wish I could. Alas, Arda's destiny should change for the worse if I did. Fate is cruel, but should not be meddled with. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," said Gimli, "for you wish to destroy the Ring, and help the Ringbearer. That is all that matters, no matter if you are an elf, a dwarf, or a woman." Ironic, this coming from the elf-prejudiced dwarf.

"I agree. You have proved to be a useful member of the Fellowship." Boromir spoke up.

"You are a good friend," said Frodo, smiling.

"It is not as if you could have done anything about Gandalf's fall into Moria. Gimli is right," Aragorn said, staring at me and stroking his stubble, "though you have not been truthful in the beginning, you are now, and that is really all that matters."

The Ranger put a better-smelling-than-before hand on my shoulder and smiling, nodded. His eyes, though, were watchful. All of their eyes were.


The days passed slowly, and I spent much of them sparring with Boromir. One day, I had beat him, though I usually didn't.

The session had begun like any other, with our swords clanging dully, being wrapped in fabric as a safety measure.

Boromir had feinted at my legs, and swung at my torso. I blocked the strike but fell backward a couple of paces away. He took advantage of this and sliced down.

Then, I heard Merilieth think, "Oh, stop."

She took control and blocked Boromir's swing. I didn't have any control as the elf inside my brain tripped Boromir up with my sword and jumped over his body lying on the ground.

The Man of Gondor pushed himself up to block a strike Merilieth had aimed for his head and he swung back at my body which jumped back, hissed, and dodged around Boromir and pointed my sword point at the back of his neck. He froze after he slowly turned around.

"Good job," said Boromir as he gingerly lowered my sword with his hand. "It seems like you are back in practice."

"Well, I must thank you and Legolas for helping me improve my swordfighting skills."

The Man smiled and went off, sweating and smelly, after bidding me a farewell.

Behind me trod soft footsteps on the short, smooth grass.

"You have increased in ability since the beginning of your stay in Middle-Earth," said Galadriel. I turned and bowed to her.

"That was Merilieth, my Lady."

"Yes, the style appeared more like hers." Galadriel stared at me, her blue eyes as deep as the Western ocean and as clear, pristine, and pure as her Mirror. "But, I have come for something else entirely. Your ring. It was the first clue, for me, that you were not Merilieth."

"How did you know I had it?" I looked down at my gloved right hand that had only a slight bump at the beginning of my middle finger.

"I sense it, as you should know of a Ring of mine." Nenya, the Ring of Water, untouched by Sauron's spreading malice, yet a Ring of Power all the same.

I nodded. "What is this?" I took off my glove and fidgeted with my ring.

"It is a ring of knowledge. The more you know, the more things you can imagine, the more powerful it grows. It is bonded to you," said Galadriel. I stared at the mithril band in awe.

"Yes, it will prove useful, but I suggest less time sparring, since Merilieth can always help you, and more time reading and learning. Look into the magic of our world, and learn."

The Lady of the Wood pulled a book out from behind her back, an old tome that looked as if it had only recently been dusted from the toll of disuse. She handed it to me.

The title, in Elvish, read, Magics of Arda, and the volume was thick and surprisingly sturdy for its obvious age. The worn leather cover was soft to my already gentle and soft elven hands.

I looked up, and Galadriel had vanished. In her place, a golden mallorn leaf fell to the ground. The time of the elves was fading. Men would rule the world as all other races went into their final homes.

I inhaled sharply in shock as I realized why I had been forced into an elf's body. My time here was not permanent, no. And neither was Merilieth's, or any other elf's. They would go into the West. I was a symbol of the end of the elven time of Arda. The end of all races besides Men in Middle-Earth.

The forest around me faded as a tall and majestic figure stood before me, her face hidden by a silvery, enveloping mist.


Author's Note: Disclaimer: This is a FanFiction from the Lord of the Rings world, created and trademarked by J.R.R. Tolkien. The characters, settings, and anything created by J.R.R. Tolkien are not my own and I do not claim ownership to any of them. This is a FanFiction I made with nothing to do with J.R.R. Tolkien, and is for entertainment purposes only: I am not profiting financially from this work, which may or may not be canonical. Thanks to J.R.R. Tolkien for making the world of The Lord of the Rings, for without it, many people would be un-enlightened to the genius of Lord of the Rings and J.R.R. Tolkien and the following FanFiction would never have been made, and I would have no life. Credits from most dialogue and setting to Peter Jackson, one of the best directors ever.