Disclaimer: Elaria and Skye, plus miscellaneous characters are mine.

Authoress' Note: Very sorry! I took so long to post up because I wrote half, gave up for a few months, then wrote the other half. Anyway, a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed - thanks for helping me hit 100! Well, I fixed up and re-uploaded the rest of the chapters - they're easier to read now, so... PLEASE REVIEW! Now, on with the rest of the story...

Chapter 7

Estragon stopped reading and lifted his head up. He saw his sister, Amleth, freeze in the middle of brushing her long, dark brown hair. Their identical hazel eyes met in the mirror she was standing in front of.

Without another word, they ran out of their house, slamming the door behind them. All along the street, people were emerging from their homes, talking excitedly. Amleth met up with her friends and they immediately began giggling. Estragon rolled his eyes. Typical. He turned around when he heard someone call his name and saw his best friend, Isidore, hurrying towards him.

"This is most unexpected!" was the first thing Isidore said. "Twice this month have the sound of trumpets rang throughout the city of Gondor."

"What can it mean?" pondered Estragon. "The first occasion was due to the arrival of Captain Faramir and his men... Are we to have another set of visitors?"

"I think we will find the answer to that question shortly," Isidore replied.

Estragon and Isidore arrived at the main road and started weaving their way through the people that were flocking to the entrance of the city. They made it to the front of the crowd, and found themselves facing the two large wooden gates that separated Gondor from the outside world.

"Make way for the Captain!" someone shouted from behind the pair.

Everybody cleared a path for the Captain of Gondor and his two attending soldiers.

"What happened to Lord Faramir?" asked Estragon, puzzled. "I thought he was Captain."

"Did you not know?" exclaimed a middle-aged woman standing next to him. "He is imprisoned and is yet to be executed."

Before he could ask anything further, Isidore nudged him urgently. Estragon faced the front again, and saw the Captain slide back a small panel on one of the gates. The crowd grew silent as they watched him peer through the slot.

"Lord of Gondor," the Captain said. "That you were of this title, we knew immediately. However, what could the matter be that requires you to arrive with such strange companions?"

"My companions are not of concern here, for I, Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Isildur's Heir, have come to claim the throne that is mine, both by birth and by right," was the strong reply.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd as the Captain gave a cry of disbelief.

"Can it be true? Will the seat of Denethor once again be filled?" he demanded after the noise died down. "Is this a hoax? Can you prove that you are indeed our ruler?"

"Since words are not enough to move you, here is your proof."

Nobody, except the Captain, saw what this entailed, but by his sharp intake of breath, everybody could tell he was convinced. He turned around quickly to face the mass of people gathered at the entrance to the city.

"Open the gates!" he bellowed. "Our King... he has returned!"

The crowd gave a great cheer, as soldiers surged forward to help move the heavy bars that held the gates closed.

"Isidore!" shouted Estragon in excitement and also to be heard over the crowd. "Aragorn, my cousin, he-"

"Look!" Isidore interrupted him. "The gates are opening!"

The metal hinges creaked in protest as the men leaning on the left and right sides pushed with all their might. As they secured the doors, the citizens jostled each other in their attempts to see the King of Gondor.

Estragon, struggling to keep his position at the front, saw his cousin for the first time in his life. He looked with pride at the tall, dark and handsome man who stepped forward regally, a slight smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. Suddenly, he found himself dropping to his knees, as Isidore pulled him down to ground level. He glanced to the left, right and even behind him, and saw others doing likewise. Soon, everyone, the whole city of Gondor, was kneeling before their new King.

Looking up discreetly, Estragon saw why his cousin commanded such respect. Power seemed to emanate from every part of his body, from the force in his eyes to the measured gait of his feet. His was an unquestioned yet silent authority. He had travelled far and the trials he had faced on his journeys had left a mark on him. He had seen and heard things which other mortal men could only begin to imagine. He was strong, he was wise, he was sharp, he was formidable - but he was fair. He had compassion, a heart capable of feeling the emotions of any other human being. For all his power, all his authority came from deep within, from the very core of himself - his soul. Aragorn was indeed the King of all Kings.

"People of Gondor," Aragorn called out in a loud, commanding tone. "Arise!"

Estragon and Isidore stood up slowly with the rest of the city.

"I am filled with joy, to find, that in these dark times, there is still loyalty left in men. But alas, this feeling is brief, for the weight of my true reason for coming here hangs heavy on my heart," Aragorn said gravely.

Estragon glanced at his best friend nervously. Everybody, down to the youngest child, knew that something was not right in the outside world.

"Middle-earth is once again under threat," Aragorn continued. "A force has risen in the East and is gaining power, even as I speak. History is repeating itself. Our ancestors fought in the war against this force, and now, so will we. Except this time, we will destroy the Enemy so completely, that darkness and evil will never be able to enter the world again. And this city - this great fortress known as Gondor - will lead the way to victory!"

The people of Gondor cheered heartily. There was no opposition to his words. They had lived for years in fear of a nameless shadow. Helplessness had practically become the normal state of life. But not anymore - they had a King now; they were united, they were strong.

Aragorn waited for the crowd to quieten. But he did this with a patient smile, for he knew Gondor had had precious little to celebrate in times of late. The noise eventually died down, until silence reigned once more. Aragorn cleared his throat.

"We do not have much time left. Preparations for this war must start immediately. I require the cooperation of every citizen here to provide all the help they can. Not just for Gondor, but also for any visitors we may have. They may seem strange and foreign, but show them the hospitality that you would show your fellow neighbour. In the meantime, be on the alert. Dark times lie ahead of us."

The Heir of Isildur then turned to the Captain and began conversing with him quietly. Estragon turned away, disappointed. This seemed to be all that his cousin had to say. He was about to head back home when Isidore grabbed his arm.

"Where are you going?" Isidore asked. "The King did not travel alone - his companions will now be the first guests of Gondor!"

Estragon and Isidore eyed the entrance to the city eagerly. Aragorn and the Captain strolled outside and disappeared from view. After awhile, they returned, but this time, they weren't alone.

The Captain, flanked by some of his soldiers, started down the main street, clearing a path for the King. Aragorn, however, was too busy talking to his friends to notice. Finally, he gave a signal for them to follow him and began striding quickly away.

All eyes were now on the mysterious visitors. Six in total, they covered a range of heights, genders and races. The tallest member was the first to step forward, confidently following in Aragorn's footsteps.

The pointed ears instantly identified him as an Elf. Fair and graceful, with long golden hair and piercing blue eyes, his movements were light but deadly, like a panther. His lithe frame was clothed in familiar travelling attire. However, it was obvious that if they examined the materials the clothes were made out of, they would not be so familiar any longer. He was well armed, with an intricate bow and a matching quiver of arrows strapped to his back, and a sword and several daggers on his belt.

The Elf made quite an impression on the young women of Gondor, who were giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Estragon spotted his sister with a dreamy expression on her face. Girls... he thought disgustedly. He turned back to see what the Elf's reaction to all this would be. However, he was either ignoring or unaware of the commotion around him. He swiftly made his way towards Aragorn who was waiting for everyone to catch up.

Three of the remaining visitors now hurried forward to join the King and the Elf. It looked like they were the youngest and the most normal looking of the group.

A girl about Estragon's age was jogging in the lead, waving happily at the crowd around her with a wide grin on her face. She was dressed rather like a boy, in a long sleeved shirt and loose pants. Estragon noticed the dark forest green colour brought out the brown in her eyes. Then he blushed for thinking such a stupid thing. But he had to admit that she was rather cute, despite her unusual hairstyle. Her hair had been split into two and tied on either side of her head. It was strange, but it seemed to suit her. For some reason, she also had pink streaked throughout her dark brown locks. He wondered how anyone could ever be born with such a combination. She must have come from somewhere very far away where these colours were normal.

Two little boys were following the girl, running to keep up with her. There was something rather odd about them. Estragon scanned them from head to toe and then stopped and stared openly at their bare feet. They weren't human - no one could possibly have feet that hairy. Estragon lifted his head again and studied their open, youthful faces. Dressed in similar outfits, they were much shorter than him, but their eyes showed they were far older than they looked. The pair grinned cheekily at everyone before running after the girl.

Estragon now watched as the two remaining visitors started walking self-consciously towards the rest of their friends. He was not the only one who marvelled at the contrast between the pair.

The short, stout, bearded creature appeared to be more armour than Dwarf - helmet, shield, chain mail, sword, axe... Who knew what else? He was stalking along, glaring up at all the people gawking at him, occasionally brandishing his axe at them. Estragon thought he had never seen a more comical figure in his life. The Dwarf looked ridiculous, trying to protect his companion who was twice his height.

This was because she was an Elf and so, naturally taller than both Dwarves and Men alike. She was as beautiful as Legolas was handsome. Now it was the men who were acting giddy, staring at her like they had never seen a woman before. Well, at least one as attractive as this Elf.

With long black hair trailing down her back, a tall, slender figure and a slight glow about her face, she was the picture of unworldly beauty. She was dressed in a dark blue outfit, consisting of a long sleeved top and a skirt with a large slit in the side, worn over fitted leggings. Her clothes seemed to emphasise her femininity rather than detract from it. However, the way she moved was not what one expected from a being who looked so graceful and elegant. Estragon thought she would glide along like Legolas, but she appeared to just walk normally, albeit a little clumsily.

Yet there was something else odd about this Elf. Something that made her special. That set her apart from everybody, even though she was already different. Something that drew the eye to her and kept it there...

Estragon didn't know what that 'something' was, but some, like Galadriel or Gandalf, would instantly recognise it. It was the subconscious knowledge of a great destiny that would be fulfilled in the future.

---

Elaria was seriously starting to think that Peter Jackson had made the Lord of the Rings movies by filming actual events in this world. How else could you explain the grand entrance Aragorn had made and his rousing speech as the new King of Gondor? She could practically hear the dramatic musical accompaniment. Scenes that perfect did not happen in real life.

Despite Skye's over-exuberance, even the entry of the Fellowship had been remarkably impressive. However, Elaria felt she had not been as poised as an Elf should have been. Unlike Legolas, who did not even have to try, she had had to concentrate on not tripping over in nervousness. It hadn't helped with Gimli acting like a mother hen, making her out to be some vulnerable female who needed the guidance of a strong male. For a supposedly rough and uncaring race, Dwarves were awfully protective.

They were now out of sight of the diminishing crowd. Yet Gimli was still looking after her, scanning the area warily and lifting his axe at any sign of movement.

"Gimli!" she burst out eventually. "Since when did you become my personal bodyguard?"

"Since Gandalf entrusted me with the task of defending Skye and yourself," he replied gruffly.

Elaria was about to launch into a long speech in protest, when Aragorn called them to a halt.

"Behold," he said quietly. "Before you lies the royal palace, home to the King of Gondor for generations."

Elaria looked up, Gimli's over-protectiveness forgotten, and saw smooth stone steps leading up to an imposing, museum-like building. The high, solid rock walls had square windows placed at regular intervals. Two large grey stone pillars supported the sloping roof. An ornately decorated stone doorway encompassed the dark wooden doors, a soldier standing guard on either side. Elaria thought it looked rather depressing, but Aragorn seemed to be very pleased with it.

He quickly led them up the stairs and through the doors that the guards had immediately opened on their arrival. The inside was much more to Elaria's tastes. It had the appearance of a medieval castle, lighted by candles and what natural sunlight filtered in through the windows. Various tapestries and weapons hung on the walls, and heavy wooden doors were evenly spaced along the sides of the spacious room.

The new King stopped and stared around him. Everyone else hung back in respect. No matter how short their acquaintance with the man was, they all realised the significance of this moment to him. This was a person, who had known as soon as he had begun the journey that was life, where his final destination was going to be. It didn't matter how far away he went, the knowledge would have eventually drawn him back.

There was only one other who could even begin to fathom this feeling and that was Legolas, future King of Mirkwood. However, it wasn't just because he knew what Aragorn was going through that Legolas stepped forward at that moment - he went to stand next to Aragorn, his old friend, not Aragorn, the King of Gondor.

Legolas' light touch on his shoulder seemed to startle Aragorn. He shifted uneasily and muttered something under his breath to the Elf, but Elaria still managed to catch it – "I was thinking about Boromir. I made a promise to myself that his sacrifice would be honoured..." Aragorn then turned to face his companions once more.

"Captain!" he called out to the man, who was standing by the entrance. "Do you know the family of Boromir, Lord of the Tower of Guard?"

"Boromir?" the Captain repeated in surprise. "Why... his kin are all but deceased!"

The look on Aragorn's face seemed to disturb the Captain, who walked forward nervously while fingering his sword.

"However..." he continued reluctantly. "There is still one alive today, though Eru knows for how long..."

"Pray tell, what do you mean by that comment?" the King inquired in a dangerously soft voice.

"His younger brother, Faramir, was the Captain before me," the other man explained. "That is, until he agreed to forfeit his life in exchange for setting two prisoners free..."

"Who were these two prisoners?" asked Aragorn.

"They were of the same kind as these two here," the Captain said, indicating Merry and Pippin. "It is very strange - from afar they look like children, until one gets close enough to see from their countenance that they are much older... Faramir captured them after his men attacked some allies of the Enemy."

The Captain hesitated as he saw Aragorn glance swiftly at Legolas and Gimli.

"I believe... I- I believe..." he faltered. "They were released because of some matter about a ring..."

Everybody present stared at him while he glanced nervously at the King. Pippin looked around wildly then broke the silence.

"Mister Aragorn King sir!" he said hurriedly. "He must be talking about Frodo and Sam! They were here in Gondor, not so long ago... We could catch up to them easily and help them get to Mordor safely! Oh, we could!"

"Pip," said Merry wearily, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We can't."

"But why not?" demanded the other Hobbit. "As their friends, we can't just let them get hopelessly lost - they don't know the way to Mordor from here."

"Frodo and Sam are going to get to Mordor... But they'll do it alone," said Merry firmly. "They don't need us or anyone to help them anymore. Can't you see that? Before we were kidnapped by the Uruk, I felt just as guilty as you, letting Frodo go off by himself... At least we now know that he's got Sam. So there's no point in thinking of joining him, Pip."

"But..." Pippin protested. "We came along because of Frodo. Now, he's gone... What are we supposed to do? What use are we now?"

"We are still important, Pippin," declared Merry vehemently. "Remember Treebeard and his friends? The Ents, so big and mighty, needed the help of two young, insignificant Hobbits from the Shire! And look... now, we've got the Fellowship again! This is our destiny, Pip, this is where we're supposed to be. We'll follow them, wherever they go, because we won't just be helping our friends - Frodo, Sam, Treebeard... We'll be helping the whole of Middle-earth."

Merry looked defiantly at everybody as they stood there in stunned silence. Personally, Elaria felt like applauding for the brave little Halfling, but knew that would be highly inappropriate for the heartfelt speech he had just made. She glanced at the rest of the Fellowship and saw them looking at Merry with new found respect - they had never known an intelligent and sensitive personality was hidden beneath that cute and mischievous exterior.

Aragorn was the first to rouse himself. He gently kneeled in front of the two Hobbits and looked at each of them in turn for a long time.

"Sometimes," he sighed, his eyes and voice now distant. "So caught up do we become in our own troubles, that we do not notice when others have become stronger, merely by confronting their problems instead of torturing themselves with them..."

Aragorn trailed off, lost in the memories of the past. After a few seconds, he blinked, once again in the present. Aragorn shook his head then turned to look Merry in the eye.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck," he began gravely. "When you ventured out of the safe haven that was the Shire, you had little idea of what to expect. You had even less idea of what would be expected of you. Now, you have proven yourself to far exceed what any Hobbit, let alone, any Man or Dwarf or Elf, could ever hope to achieve - true wisdom. For that, I grant you a gift, in the name of Elendil. This knife, which I have carried with me from the start of this quest, shall now be your Sword, to fight every battle with you until this age of darkness is over. It shall now be named Nominesse, Elvish for 'wisdom in youth'."

With these words, Aragorn withdrew a battered sheath from his belt and offered it to Merry. The Hobbit gazed at the sword with tears in his eyes. He took it without saying a word, unable to communicate his thanks for the greatest of gifts from the greatest of kings. He took a step back and stood there, hugging the sword to his chest, staring forward with wide unseeing eyes.

Aragorn rose and walked back towards the Captain, leaving Merry still clutching Nominesse.

"Forgive me. You must find it strange, the complex alliances and connections between us," he said to the confused man. "However, I have not forgotten what I came here to do. Though I am not officially King yet, I will now make a command and expect you to obey it."

"Ah, what is it, my lord?" asked the Captain warily.

"Release Faramir," said Aragorn abruptly. "At once."

The Captain started in surprise.

"B-but," he stammered. "By law, he-"

"We are going to war," interrupted the King. "We need all the men we can get. This situation will force us all to do many things we would never have done otherwise. This includes breaking laws, no matter how fiercely they have been kept before. Captain, I am asking you to free a man who was willing to die for his men, his city, his people. From one simple action, you will save the lives of many."

The Captain looked at the King for a long moment.

"I will be back shortly, my lord."

With that, he disappeared into one of the many doors lining the room. Skye immediately sidled over to Elaria and started whispering in her ear.

"I'm a bit confused. What just happened?" her sister asked. "From what I could gather, seems like Merry and Pippin's friends were here and that some guy with a weird name is being freed."

"He doesn't have a weird name," Elaria hissed back. "Faramir is perfectly normal in these parts. He's Boromir's younger brother."

Skye looked at Elaria blankly for a second. Then her eyes brightened as she recalled the name and the story behind it.

"Ohhhh," Skye whispered fiercely. "Boromir was the guy who got tempted by the Ring! But why was his brother locked up? Something to do with a law I know but I didn't totally get it..."

"Frodo and Sam were his prisoners but he set them free, which meant he had to offer his life in re-"

Elaria stopped mid-word, distracted by the sound of footsteps. The others, who had also been conversing quietly, turned to the door as it opened.

The Captain emerged first, closely followed by a tall, noble-looking man, Faramir, whose eyes travelled slowly over the faces of the Fellowship as he walked towards them. They lingered a little longer on Elaria, who frowned. She was a bit unnerved by all the attention she was receiving from the Men in Gondor.

Elaria glanced sideways at Skye and saw her sister looking at the former Captain with more than a hint of interest. Elaria didn't really blame her though – all the men they had met so far made even stubble and unwashed clothes look good. Faramir was better looking than most as well. His dark brown hair fell in waves to his shoulders, framing a mature, intelligent looking face. He seemed gentle and mild, standing demurely in front of Aragorn. However, a strong will and determination was evident in his grey eyes. Elaria could tell he must have been a fair but firm Captain.

"You have no need to introduce yourself, Lord Aragorn, son of Arathorn, soon to be King of Gondor. However, I cannot say the same for your companions. Indeed, I have never been greeted by a more unusual group of strangers in my life," said Faramir in a cool voice.

"Lord Faramir," Aragorn returned politely. "I have had the honour of meeting your brother, Boromir, and I can see that you have been a great influence on him. That tale, I shall relate to you in full, though now does not seem the appropriate moment. As for my companions, I agree that it is a strange sight to see so many different races together. However, we have all formed friendships, strong and true, no matter how different we may be."

Aragorn walked over to Legolas and placed a hand on the Elf's shoulder.

"This is Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood Forest, whose skill with the bow is matched by few. A loyal friend he has been to me throughout these years."

Faramir and Legolas shook hands warily. Legolas had seen the way the man had looked at Elaria and was not very pleased about it.

"Here is Gimli, son of Glóin. Tough and strong he is, like all Dwarves, however, it is his talents outside of battle that distinguish him from his folk," said Aragorn.

Gimli, looking a little nonplussed by Aragorn's comments, gave Faramir a brief nod.

"These two are Merry and Pippin. They may be short of stature, but never of bravery," Aragorn continued.

The two Hobbits smiled weakly at Faramir. They had been particularly fond of Boromir and seeing his younger brother brought back painful memories.

"And then there is Skye, the girl with the unusual hair and a lethal kick, and Elaria, the mysterious elven-maiden. They joined us not long ago, yet already we have become attached to them."

Elaria looked away, avoiding Faramir and his probing gaze. Had he never seen an Elf before? Why didn't he go stare at Legolas like that? Probably because Legolas isn't his type, she thought to herself, suppressing the urge to giggle.

"Faramir, I have a request to make of you," said Aragorn, causing the man in question to look away from Elaria. "In exchange for your release and your rank as Captain, will you spend a week or two training the young men who may be going to war for the first time? If you agree to this wager, you will also have to devote some time in exclusively training Skye and Elaria."

"I accept," Faramir said immediately.

"It is settled then," said Aragorn, satisfied. "Now, Captain, I wish to call an urgent meeting about the upcoming war. Invite those who can benefit us the most - not just the brave, experienced warrior, but also the wise, learned scholar. Oh and see to it that my friends are attended to - we have travelled far and I believe they may be hungry and fatigued. Accommodate them in some of the guest rooms. Legolas? Gimli? I believe you are both included in this conference."

With that, Aragorn walked away, Legolas, Gimli and Faramir in tow. The Captain summoned two of his soldiers then hurried after the new King. Merry and Pippin, who had been looking crushed at the fact that they were not invited to the meeting, brightened up as the remaining soldiers asked them whether they would like to dine now or after they had refreshed themselves.

"Now," they said in unison.

Skye and Elaria shared a smile. It seemed like there was very little that could affect a Hobbit's appetite.

"Actually, I'm hungry too," Skye said thoughtfully.

"Uh..." Elaria hesitated. "Could I have a bath first?"

One of the soldiers led Skye and the two eager Hobbits to the dining room, while another escorted Elaria to a guest bedroom.

"I will tell a maid to come with hot water," he said, leaving her alone in the large, richly decorated room.

Elaria looked at the queen-sized canopy bed with maroon covers and hangings, the ornately carved dressing table and the wide, heavy-looking oak wardrobe propped against the left wall. She heard someone approaching and turned around as a neatly dressed woman entered the room, holding two large jars with steam curling up from their spouts. The maid inclined her head demurely at Elaria then disappeared into a side door. She reappeared quickly, minus the jars.

"Your bath is ready, my lady," the woman said politely.

"Er... Thank you," Elaria replied.

The maid curtseyed delicately then exited the room. Elaria cautiously poked her head around the door to what she assumed was the bathroom. Her guess was proved right as she saw a big antique bathtub in the centre of the room, with a mirror and small basin nearby. There was a corner sectioned off by a dark brown curtain which she supposed was the toilet. Or more correctly, a bucket or a hole in the ground – with no running water, how could you possibly get one with a flush?

Elaria walked in and sat on the edge of the bathtub. She gingerly tested the water with her fingers, and to her surprise, found that it was pleasantly warm. The maid must have mixed the hot water from the jars with cold water from the basin, for the bath water was now at exactly the right temperature.

She locked the door, then undressed and hung her clothes on a metal rail attached to the side of the bath. She carefully stepped into the tub and eased herself into a reclining position. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and felt herself completely relax. She had been longing for this all week, this little bit of luxury which she had always taken for granted before. She floated blissfully for awhile, before deciding it was about time to wash her hair properly.

Nothing in particular was in Elaria's mind at first, as she concentrated on getting rid of all the dirt and grime she had accumulated while travelling. However, as she rinsed her hair, she found that thoughts of home had started drifting through her head.

Were her parents worried or had they not even noticed their daughters were gone? Perhaps time had stopped and would only start again when she and Skye returned, or maybe they had changed the course of history and would go back to a completely different place. They could even have ceased to exist in their world. She didn't dwell on this for too long - it was too depressing to think that she might be stuck in Middle-earth forever. The only reason she was able to enjoy this experience was because she had faith that she would be able to resume her normal life once more.

But then again, this adventure wasn't so bad. She was in this beautiful, untainted country with the characters from her favourite film. She had seen places no other person from Earth would ever get to see and gotten to know a group of individuals who had previously only existed in fiction. She had escaped from the confusing demanding age that was the 21st century to a world where everything was so simple, like a fairy tale or a medieval romance. There was only good or evil, love or hate, light or dark; it was so different from modern society, where a criminal could hide behind a false image of respectability, an enemy hurt you with seemingly sweet words.

There was so much less to worry about in Middle-earth - no stress from school, peer pressure from friends, problems with technology... All that had been stripped away to leave one basic concern which was absent in the structured world she came from; the struggle for survival. There was something comforting but exhilarating about the fact that death could come at any moment. It gave you a sense of freedom, the liberty to do many things you would never have dreamed of doing otherwise. Life was very dangerous, but that only made it all the more valuable.

However, with the Fellowship and their very deadly looking weapons around, Elaria felt relatively safe. Even when that Uruk-hai had kidnapped her, she hadn't sunk into the depths of despair. After all, from what she had read, Legolas seemed to be very good at rescuing 'damsels in distress'.

Thinking about her 'saviour' dredged up a whole set of conflicting emotions she didn't want to deal with at the moment. Legolas was a total enigma to her. She didn't know if it was just him, or if it was the same with all Elves in general, but she could not fathom why he reacted the way he did sometimes. He was friendly to Aragorn, teased Gimli good-naturedly and was affectionate with the Hobbits. He was always annoyed with Skye, but then again, who wasn't? That girl could get on anybody's nerves after a few minutes.

Despite that, it was the way he treated her that confused Elaria the most. He had threatened her before becoming extra-polite. She had gained his respect, yet he behaved coldly towards her. What was she supposed to think?

She thought having an elvish appearance would have created a closer bond between the two of them, like people of the same country naturally gravitating to each other. However, she now realised how superficial a view that was. Relationships couldn't be formed on the basis of race alone, even in Middle-earth. Anyway, her total lack of knowledge when it came to Elves and their culture meant she was no more an Elf than Gimli was.

Luckily, she hadn't been forced to speak Elvish or do anything that was traditionally expected from an Elf, like recite poetry or something. She had a feeling Gandalf had told Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas not to question Elaria and Skye on their backgrounds. Just to be on the safe side, Elaria had also made Skye promise not to say anything about where they had come from. Thus, when some of the others, like Gimli, had given lengthy monologues about their own histories, Elaria and Skye had remained silent, not offering any details of their own. This made it quite difficult in befriending others, since they couldn't even be honest about themselves.

Skye seemed to be coping well though. She had instantly adapted to this new environment and the strange creatures living in it. Take the Hobbits for instance – already the three of them were forming a tight-knit group, united in their common goal to irritate and amuse the others. Elaria had to admit though that Skye did seem to be having a positive effect on the rest of the Fellowship; she was bringing them in touch with their youth, when they had been as enthusiastic and full of life as the girl was now.

A shiver suddenly ran down Elaria's spine. She sat up, once again aware of her surroundings. She had been so busy thinking, that she hadn't even noticed the bathwater had gone cold. She stepped out of the tub and grabbed a fluffy green towel from the stack by her feet. She wrapped herself quickly in it, but such speed was not really necessary. It was quite warm actually, with sunlight streaming in through a large window above her head.

Absentmindedly picking up her clothes, Elaria was about to slip them on when she realised she had been wearing the same things for seven days straight. She held them up and eyed them doubtfully. They looked like they had been dragged through several different types of dirt, which was actually the case, since Aragorn seemed to enjoy forcing them to 'rough it up'. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. It was probably breeding exotic new species. Better to leave the creatures here to evolve.

Elaria unlocked the bathroom door and padded into the bedroom. Maybe the maid has left me some new clothes, she thought hopefully. She looked around in disappointment. Nothing, not even a rag. She opened the wardrobe, more out of habit than anything else, expecting to find it empty. To her surprise, it was filled to bursting point with garments of every colour.

She reached forward to finger the expensive looking material the dresses were made of. They were amazingly soft and smooth to the touch. Elaria eagerly selected some at random from the wardrobe and marvelled at the beauty of the fabric and the intricate decorations. She had never seen so many stunning gowns in her life.

Elaria leisurely went through the contents of the wardrobe. She didn't try any on as she already felt like an intruder, rummaging in someone else's closet. These dresses were much too fine for her. This room was probably meant to be for distinguished female guests who were used to dressing up in fancy frocks. She must have been put in here by accident.

Suddenly, she realised she was standing there with only a towel on. Elaria blushed. She had better put something on before someone came in and caught her in such an embarrassing position. She chose a plain sky blue dress from the armoire and quickly slipped it on. It was a perfect fit and was unexpectedly, very comfortable.

She spied a brush lying on the dressing table and eagerly snatched it up. It had been so long since she had had a chance to do her hair properly. She turned to the mirror and was about to start brushing her wet hair, when something caused her to freeze in mid-action.

Elaria stared in shock at her reflection. Looking back at her, with wide, amazed eyes, was a very different person to the one she remembered seeing in the mirror last week. Oh, she was still recognisable as Elaria, but she had been unmistakably 'elvenised'.

Smooth, flawless skin, long, dark eyelashes, perfectly coloured lips... All her flaws had disappeared, leaving behind this image of perfection. Could that really be her, that goddess-like being with the alluring glow to her face? No wonder Faramir had been looking at her in the way he had.

However, elation quickly gave way to depression as Elaria continued to regard herself critically in the mirror. Sure, she had always wanted to improve her appearance – who didn't? – but she had never imagined undergoing such a dramatic change. The girl – no, the Elf – in the mirror was a stranger to her, someone who Elaria would normally have been jealous of. But now, how could she envy her own reflection?

One of the only things that had been familiar in this foreign land had turned out to be just as mysterious and unknown as everything else she had encountered. A sudden pang of homesickness hit her at this thought, manifesting itself as an acute pain in her chest. She collapsed on the bed, physically, mentally and emotionally tired. Being in this place, so different from her own world, not knowing why she was here or what she was supposed to do... It had been troubling her greatly, and the strain had taken its toll.

Elaria closed her eyes, intending to get up in a second to go find Skye and have a long sister-to-sister chat. However, without even realising it, she soon drifted off into a deep, restful sleep.

---

Authoress' Note:

Phew that took a loooong time to write, but finally it's finished! Very sorry for the wait, but since this was a crucial chapter, I had to keep editing and rewriting parts. Tedious but necessary. Anyway, onto some general comments.

I haven't read 'Return of the King', so I didn't actually know what happened when Aragorn went back to Gondor! I'm making up events to fit the ending I have in mind, so no need for flames about staying true to the books or anything. In my story, certain things are assumed, for eg. that the fathers of Aragorn and Boromir are dead.

I couldn't think of new names, so I just stole them from places, for example, Amleth was from somewhere I read, and coincidentally means 'idiot'. If anybody can give me possible Elf names, it would be quite helpful for future chapters.

I wasn't going to update for another few months, but seeing that I've already started writing the next chapter, I guess it'll be posted up sooner!

A big thank you to the following people who reviewed:

legless (Yay you're a fan! Elaria should be grateful, but she kinda gets p'd off really easily after living with Skye for so many years, plus she's not "so in love" with Legolas), The Balrog of Altena, Midnight, jessica, Starshines (Thanks for that link!), tbiris (Skye wasn't actually captured), Kycaley (Thanks for adding me to your fave lists! 'Elfnapped' sounds so cute!), The Lady Sorcha of Sevenwaters, prinka (The chapters aren't that short and how is Elaria too smart? Hey, even Legolas is at a loss of what to do sometimes, and sorry can't ditch all my characters for a completely Legolas focused fanfic!), dark-angel0098, lil kawaii doom (Grrr... tell those gnomes to stop leaving vegetables in my bag! Say hi to your imaginary friends for me), Grim and Evil (Sorry no Boromir.. but there is Faramir!), flaming flamingo (Oh sorry! I spelt your nickname wrong! A bird on fire... got it!), Princess Myra, SeCrEtElVeNpRiNcEsS (The only problem with your idea is that there are no events for Elaria to give away and what are the Moriquendi?), INSANE1, rogue solus (WOMEN RULE THIS WORLD!) and flaming flamingo again (Thanks for the encouragement!)

Also:

Anarane Lossehelin - How come you said the chapter was fine and then you started criticising most of it? The Orc was sent by Saruman to elfnap Elaria and since I'm not following the book, in my version Sauron knows more or less where the Fellowship is. I don't think it was stupid that Merry and Pippin sneaked into Orthanc coz they've gotten braver, haven't they? I'll try to make their language more Middle-earth ish! When Aragorn was pacing around, he was thinking aloud about all that had happened and what Sauron would do. Oh, I didn't know about the whole Palantir thing so in my story Saruman still has it. Since he wants the Ring, he wouldn't want it destroyed by Elaria and Skye, would he? So that's why he helps Sauron by trying to kidnap them. Hope you'll find the next chapter better...

Makura Koneko - Ah at last... I was waiting for your review because you always have some good constructive criticism! Do you know where I could get one of those 'Mary Sue scene' lists? That was a rather evil thing for your friend to do - your ego must be feeling a little bruised. but yes, you are a very talented author! The bet will be coming up in one of the next few chapters. Ah thanks for the whole Lorien/Lothlorien explanation! Thank you for your advice - I went and fixed up the spacing for all the chapters. You're officially my beta reader now right? Yay!