"Well, would you look at the mess you've gotten us into! Gandalf'll be fit to hit us upside the head with that staff of his when we get back!"

Merry rolled his eyes, scanning the surrounding hills for any sign of the Fellowship as he shivered slightly, wrapping his arms over his chest to stay warm as the evening air grew chiller and chiller with the setting of the sun. "We're not in any sort of mess, Sam. We're just," He paused and shrugged, "Taking our time returning, that's all."

Sam glared. "Gandalf didn't even want us out here! Why didn't you let Boromir come with us?"

Merry sighed audibly as he sat down, resting for a moment as he glanced up to his friend, who was clearly growing more and more anxious as the shadows around them seem to grow. "I just fancied a bit of fresh produce, Sam. I hadn't expected the lack of anything, I'll have you know."

Frodo spoke up for the first time, clearly nervous as his fingers wrapped around the hilt of Bilbo's old sword, "Do you think they're out looking for us?"

"Of course they are," Merry grinned comfortingly, "Last time I checked, you're rather important, Frodo."

Sam fidgeted as he turned his attention to the sun, now just a dying orb, barely visible on the horizon as the stars gently began to shine down. "He's gonna' kill us, Merry, and it's going to be your fault."

Repressing a retort, Merry rose to his feet and carefully scanned the hills surrounding them as he raised a hand to his brow. Not wishing to be treated some sort of child, he had insisted that Sam, Frodo and himself were perfectly capable of going on a quick search to see if any edible, hopefully delicious, sorts of plants could be found. Pippin, of course, had been taking a quick nap and muttered something incoherent when Merry gave him a nudge and inquired if he wished to go along. So, the three of them had scanned the unyielding, rocky ground and had come up empty handed….and lost, though he wouldn't admit it. Somewhere along their small adventure, the outlines of their company had disappeared from the distance and they found themselves unable to determine the direction from they which they had first come.

They wandered on, sticking close together as the wind began to pick up, tousling their hairs and sending shivers down their spines. The moon shone above their heads and cast down elegant shadows that contrasted against the rough terrain beneath their feet, disguising the dangers of the unfamiliar lands with beauty. They were silent as they continued on, with the exception of an occasionally mumble or pessimistic remark from Sam.

"Oy! Over there!" Sam's voice suddenly shattered the quiet, startling Merry as he squinted to focus his eyes on what Sam was frantically gesturing towards. Sure enough, just up a small incline and nestled in a grove of shrubs was a fire, glittering welcomingly.

Merry grinned broadly, secretly relieved to the point of tears. "There! Told you we weren't lost!"

Frodo, however, did not share in the enthusiasm. "Wait, shouldn't they be calling out for us?" He stared towards the distant fire, eyes narrowed. However, Sam took no heed and began to bound ahead, racing towards what hopefully would be a warm return and not a verbal beating from Gandalf. After a quick moment's thought, Merry ran behind Sam up the small hill, watching the moonlight light his way.

At the edge of the little clearly, Sam abruptly stopped and Merry smacked into the back of him, nearly falling over as he snapped, "Thanks for the warning, Sam!" However, upon no reply, he perked a brow and stepped beside Sam, his eyes widening in horror as he discovered the reasoning behind his friend's unexpected change of motion.

There, watching with glittering, dark eyes, were four of the largest, filthiest men Merry had ever seen, huddled around what had once been a rabbit, but was now reduced to a tangle of remains. Running a hand through his tangled, thick hair, one on of them rose and placed his hand against the hilt of a crude dagger. He grinned widely, revealing teeth as dirty as the stinking hides that covered his muscular body as he nodded to his three companions in a thick, slow accent. "Look what we got here."

Merry took a step back, desperately hoping Frodo had the sense neither Sam nor himself possessed to have stayed back, undiscovered for now. Sam turned slightly, ready to run, but this motion alerted the wild men, who instantly drew their weapons and surrounded the frightened hobbits. Merry trembled in fear as he felt the eyes of the largest of the men scan over him and cried out, with all the strength he could muster, "Strider!"

With a growl, the leader dealt Merry a savage blow with the back of his hand, knocking him to the ground as Sam caught out, crying out, "Gandalf! Legolas!" Another of the men rushed forward and wrapped a dirty hand over his mouth, roaring, "Quiet!"

Both Merry and Sam continued to yell as loudly as they could, but their voices were now muffled as they were silenced. Each was held by one of the men, while the leader carefully inspected them. "We ain't seen anyone out here for weeks, little ones. Care to tell us where your friends are?" When both Sam and Merry were silent, he stepped forward and hissed, spittle flying from his lips. "Then let's see whether or not they can hear your screaming, eh?"

Merry closed his eyes, trembling furiously as he prepared himself to feel the cold steel against his flesh. If nothing else, he decided as he heard Sam's muffled cries, Frodo would escape. He had to.

Then, there was the sudden sound of choking and a distinct splashing. His eyes opened immediately, widening in horror and confusion as the leader clutched helplessly at the gash that split his throat, dark blood spilling forth as he slowly fell to his knees. The other men immediately dropped the hobbits, clutching their swords as Merry and Sam scrambled back, watching as a shadow suddenly appeared, flickering in the firelight. One of the men struck at it with a sword and it easily parried the attack with a flash of steel, turning and driving the blade through the man's chest, kicking upwards with a foot and pushing him easily off the blade as he fell with a mottled scream to the ground.

"Strider! Gandalf!" Sam's voice beside him freed Merry from his paralyzing terror. Swallowing hard, he began to call out for help as well, watching helplessly as the shadow continued to fight, slicing its sword through the air effortlessly and without remorse, a dark cloak swirling around the figure as it twisted and turned almost elegantly, as if in a dance instead of a duel. However, the ground was rocky and uneven and the figure suddenly lurched forward as it lost its footing. One of the two remaining men took advantage of the temporary weakness and slashed with a crude axe. The figure let out a small cry of pain as the weapon brushed its arm and tore through the armor, but responded with a furious strike of his own as blood slowly trickled from the wound. Frodo suddenly appeared in the firelight and slashed at the man with his own slender blade and Merry realized that in his terror he had forgotten his own sword. Still crying out for the rest of the Fellowship at the top of his small lungs, he rose and rushed forward as the figure gave the final blow, driving his sword in the man's chest without remorse. It turned to face the last man, blade raised and at the ready.

The wild man fell to his knees, sobbing in fear as the bloods of his companions slowly stained his own filthy rags. "Please-please, just let me go. I won't tell no one about you all, I promise. I swear it." He held up his hands, tears leaving slight paths down his dirtied cheeks. "Don't kill me. Please."

The figure stared at him from beneath a dark cowl and Merry thought for a moment that he would spare the pleading man, but before anyone could so much as utter a word, the blade flashed once more in the moonlight and was stained with crimson as the man fell the side, his eyes frozen wide. The figure slowly turned to face the hobbit sheathed his blade and placed a hand over the blossoming stain on his left arm, abruptly stating. "Does Gandalf know you're out adventuring on your own?"

Merry's jaw dropped as he recognized the voice and was about to respond when an arrow flew through the air, barely missing the figure, who gasped and turned to face the direction from where it had come. And sure enough, the moonlight revealed five figures to be sprinting over the rocky terrain, two of whom were quite a bit taller than the remainder.

Their cloaked savior cried out, "I'm a friend!," in a distinctively feminine voice as it reached a hand to draw back the cowl that obscured its face, but was interrupted as Boromir suddenly came flying out from the darkness, smashing his shield into its back with a roar. With a muffled 'Oof,' the figure flew face first into the ground and groaned as it slowly turned on its back, freezing as Boromir's blade was instantly at its throat.

Frodo rushed forward and put his hand over Boromir's wrist, exclaiming, "No!" And, in return, Boromir shot the hobbit a look of sheer confusion.

By now, Gandalf and the rest had arrived at the edge of the campsite with weapons drawn; a panting Pippin nearly collapsing with exhaustion behind Gimli. The figure groaned yet again as Gandalf roared, "And just what exactly have you gotten yourself into, Meriadoc Brandybuck?," and pointed to the enormous amount of blood, and bodies, now scattered about.

Before he could answer, Boromir knelt down and roughly tore away the hood of the prisoner below him, only to stare in complete disbelief as he lowered his sword. The rest of the Fellowship stared in utter surprise, as well, except for Gandalf, who strode forward and let out a disgruntled sigh, "Did you think this would be the best way to announce your presence, then?"

"Well, I had not expected to be required to kill a few Dunlendings this evening, if that's what you're inquiring," The figure replied with a quiet snort as it examined the wound on its arm, slowly sitting up. "Still, I should think a 'thank you' to be in order, before you chastise me. After all, it seems I managed to help a third of your party through my unannounced presence."

Rolling his eyes, Gandalf huffed. "Absolutely not. You nearly were killed by your own allies in your recklessness. If anything, you should thank Boromir for not finishing you on the spot."

"A fact I am quite grateful for, indeed," Amera replied with a tired smile.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Amera let out a sharp wince, biting down on her lip as Aragorn finished wrapping a strip of cloth around the wound on her arm, who in turn quietly remarked, "Nothing more than an ugly looking scratch, though no doubt a painful one."

She gave a curt nod of thanks and scooted herself closer to the fire, drawing her cloak tightly around herself as the rest of the Fellowship watched her with a combination of curiosity and shock. Finally, Gimli spoke up, perking a bushy brow towards Amera. "I think you'll be owing us a bit of an explanation now, lass."

Amera shifted slightly, brushing her hair from her eyes as she grew clearly uncomfortable. "I've just sort of been trailing behind you for a few days now," She shrugged, "Scouting about in case something should happen that you were unaware of."

Legolas perked a brow. "I thought that Lord Elrond had deemed it best that you wait behind in Imladris, or so Gandalf had told me when you did not leave with us." He nodded towards her small pack of supplies. "I see he has outfitted you for the journey. Has his mind changed?"

Amera suddenly became exceptionally interested in her fingernails, examining them closely as she quickly muttered. "Not precisely."

Gandalf pulled out his pipe as he rested his back against a large boulder and began to smoke. "Go on, Amera, you may as well tell them the truth."

She was quiet for a moment, bracing herself as she finally sighed. "Well, I did not exactly have his permission to accompany you all." Gandalf snorted and gestured for her to continue, which she did only after steeling herself for the reactions of those around her. "Lord Elrond does not know I am here."

Boromir stared at her, uttering each word slowly to make sure he had not somehow misunderstood. He gestured to her pack as well as the leather and robes that clothed her, clearly of elven design. "You mean you stole all of this?"

"I did not steal it," Amera snapped, then fidgeted slightly. "I simply borrowed it without his explicit permission." Upon seeing the looks of horror upon the faces of the Fellowship, save an utterly bemused Gandalf, she quickly defended herself. "While I greatly value the wisdom of Elrond Half-Elven, I…I know that my place is here." Her eyes flickered against the glow of the flames. "I cannot explain my reasoning, but I know in my heart that I am to be of some use to you all."

Gimli let out a loud guffaw, grinning widely in the moonlight. "It should seem we've another burglar in the company, just as when my father retook the Lonely Mountain. Have you any dealings with dragons then, eh?"

Amera was pleased at the comparison, but did not let it show as her gaze traveled to Aragorn, who held up a hand with a gentle sigh. "While we are grateful for your actions, Amera, I think it unwise to openly defy the wishes of Lord Elrond. While I would personally be honored to have you join us, it is not my decision to cast."

"No, it is not indeed." Gandalf spoke up, pausing from his pipe to slowly gesture towards Frodo, who had sat silently beside Sam for the entirety of the conversation, until now. "That choice rests with the Ringbearer."

Frodo blinked at this, clearly uncomfortable as everyone's gaze slowly shifted to him. "I… I do not see why we should deny aid that is offered to us, especially from a friend."

Gandalf grinned at this, nodding in finality. "Then it should seem you've been granted permission to join us, Amera Dagorwen, instead of sneaking behind us like a lost puppy."

A clearly relieved Amera snorted at this, "I should have you know that I've done nothing but clean the messes you've been leaving behind, Gandalf. For a mission of such utmost secrecy, you've been leaving quite a trail."

Gandalf perked a brow at this, taking a long draw from his pipe before gently replying with mischievous eyes. "Indeed, almost as if I had wanted someone to be able find us and in turn announce their presence when they felt it best."

She was silent for a long moment, then broke into a wide, rare grin. "You knew all along."

He smiled bemusedly. "I had suspected it. After all, you've rather made a name for yourself disobeying orders after all these years."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They awoke the next morning at dawn and destroyed what evidence remained of their camp before they continued on, packing their supplies swiftly after a quick breakfast mostly designed to satiate the seemingly bottomless stomachs of the halflings. Amera readily offered to help, but Sam seemed nervous when the ancient earth spirit had asked if he needed help with the potatoes, glancing at her out of the corners of his eyes occasionally, but she was either oblivious to this or had simply gotten used to such curiosity over the course of her long life.

She was dressed in dark blue robes trimmed with black that cut open at her thighs to reveal dark leggings, her chest covered with an intricately detailed leather vest, swirling and spiraling in typical elvish design. Her robe had been stowed away in her pack, along with the cowl that had obscured all but her eyes beneath her hood, so her bright eyes shone in the morning light as she smiled and made light conversation with Gandalf and Pippin, mostly discussing events she had missed during her absence. A blade rested at her side, shorter than the longswords that Aragorn and Gandalf carried, but certainly longer than the daggers than the hobbits carried, slightly curved in its elegant sheath. Frodo had noticed upon stealthy inspection as they walked onwards, noticed two daggers hidden in the folds of her robe at her waist and suspected at least another to be hidden in her right boot, judging by the occasional glint of steel. Leather bracers covered her forearm, engraved with the leaves, and tapered into gloves that cut roughly to her knuckle, leading Frodo to further suspect she had cut off the fingers herself.

If nothing else, she had certainly stolen well, he decided as he watched her silently climb up the rocky terrain, her dark hair streaming behind her. Unlike when he had last seen her at the Council, she looked the part of the warrior, any elegance cast aside in favor of usefulness. Around midday, they stopped to rest and prepare a quick meal before continuing onwards, much to Sam's delight as he excitedly readied a fire and his assortment of pots and pans.

Gimli then spoke up, casting a glance towards Amera, who was absently chewing on an apple and looking out over the empty plains they had slowly been crossing for the past week. "I should like to start by saying that I did pay attention to your tale at the Council, but I don't quite think I yet understand it." Amera perked a brow at this and rested her elbow on her knee as she waited for him to continue. "Perhaps I'm the only one that's a bit confused, but," He cast an obvious look towards Sam, who blushed furiously and busied himself with the cooking food, "I decided I might speak up for those too shy to ask themselves. Just what exactly are you then? Because, unless I'm mistake, you're a lake."

Amera choked a bit on her apple at this, clearly surprised by the question as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and set down her apple, confused by just how to respond as the rest of the Fellowship turned their attention towards her. Blushing very slightly, she began, "Your kind, master dwarf, has always been close to the earth, is that not so?"

Gimli beamed proudly at this. "Of course, how else would we be able to craft the best weapons and armor in all of Middle if we did not understand the earth?"

Legolas gave a loud snort at this, but was silenced by a dark look from Gandalf as Amera continued with a small smile, "And sometimes, does it not seem miraculous when a new deposit of ore is discovered simply because of a whim? Is it sheer chance that your kind is drawn to the riches that the earth has to offer or instead is it more logical to think that the nature occasionally whispers to us, influencing us without our very knowledge in order to aid us?"

Gimli nodded after a moment, so she went on. "And sometimes, we grow so concerned with our own immediate affairs that we ignore what nature so desperately wishes to share with us." Frodo was surprised by her use of 'we', but made no mention of it. "So, in order to finally gain our attention after many attempts, the earth may choose to speak to us in a form we understand."

Legolas spoke up, casting a look towards Gimli, who seemed to be having difficulty wrapping his head around the idea as he tugged on his beard. "And when men abandoned the shores of Annuminas, their capital and the resting place of their ancestors, and Annuminas wished to reassure them that what they left behind would be protected and cherished, what better form to take than one they would instantly recognize?"

"And thus was born Aeliniel." Gandalf calmly stated and Amera nodded, smiling shyly.

"Well, I do suppose that makes much more sense when you put it that way," Gimli shrugged, "But there's one last thing I've been, ah, meaning to ask." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, a crimson blush appearing in his ruddy cheeks as Amera gave him a confused look. "I've been gettin' the idea that you're some sort of fighter, which I greatly respect and all, but uh, well," He blustered and Amera slowly perked a brow, clearly nervous about where the question might lead. "Why exactly are you a woman, then, if your purpose was to be a warrior?"

Boromir choked on his water, clearly stifling a laugh, but Amera ignored it as she remained silent for a long moment, finally replying softly. "It was never my intention to be any sort of warrior, I assure you that." She brushed her hair behind an ear and cast a flickering glance to Boromir, who met it full on. "I was simply supposed to be a Steward of Annuminas, until the heirs of Elendil should come to reclaim what rightfully belongs to them." She then turned her gaze back to Gimli, shrugging before taking another bite of her apple. "However, when I found that fighting would be more or less required for me to best fulfill my duty, I trained to the best of my ability."

"And trained well, she did," Gandalf nodded towards Amera, who blushed further. "If her actions last night with the Dunlendings were not enough to convince any of you, I suggest you return to Imladris and speak with Glorfindel." He glared at Boromir, who shifted slightly in something vaguely resembling apology.

And so, after a few more uncomfortable minutes of eating in silence, the Fellowship continued onwards with their long journey.