AN: Hello, lovelies...it has been a good week, and it's been about two weeks or so since I posted my last chapter. Thank you for all those reviews, they really do make my day. :)

Evalyd Yamazaki: Never! I like this story too much...I would give a notice if I out it on hiatus...but I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Shannon the Original: Thanks, I was wondering how people would take it. :D

Gwilwillith: Thanks!

Emzy2k11: Thank you so much! Glad to see you're enjoying.

xxz0eyxx: Thanks! I actually watched the movie so I could get it perfect! :P

Blood thirsty animal: Thanks :D I'm looking forward to seeing it too. I want to make it very natural :)

heavenslilag420: Thank you so much! Glad you're enjoying! I'll be posting by next week...hopefully :D

I was sharing a boat with Legolas and Gimli. Gimli was usually loud and spoke his mind, but he was quiet now. The river rocked the boat gently, and as we sailed smoothly down the river, I saw Galadriel raise her hand in farewell.

I raised my hand as well, as we sailed out of Lórien.

The forest melted into mountains and rocks, very similar to the area we had encountered before entering Moria. I looked up at the sky. It was pale blue and edged with the green leaves of old, old trees.

Suddenly I heard a sigh, and Gimli spoke.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Ah, henceforth, I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me," he recalled.

"What was her gift?" Legolas asked, as he rowed the boat forward. I watched water droplets roll off the paddle, shining in the sunlight.

Gimli's back was towards us, but I could feel the smile on his face. "I asked for one hair from the top of her golden head. She gave me three."

I smiled.

The night was cold and dreary. I put my hands out by the fire, shivering a little. We had decided to rest on a small island in the river, which had grown wider and rougher ever since we left Lórien.

The river was calm now, the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. The rhythm seemed to be whispering, Sleep, Ella. Sleep…

But I couldn't sleep. I knew Orcs were after us, looking for Frodo and to kill him. And then take the Ring to Mordor. To Sauron…

I rubbed my face violently. Don't think about that, Ella! You have to do what you have to do!

I had to find something to distract myself from this, and I noted that my water supply was diminishing. I got up, mumbled something about the river that even I didn't understand, and walked off.

I unscrewed the cap of my water skin, and dipped it into the lake to fill it up.

"Gollum!"

I shrieked and stumbled backwards, leaving my water skin at the edge of the river. I scrambled back to the camp, where everyone was looking in the direction I had come. Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir was on their feet.

"Ella!"

"Th—there's s—something o—out there!"

Aragorn's eyes narrowed, and he drew his sword, holding it in front of him. I took my own weapon and followed close behind him, to where I had been replenishing my water. He looked around, but as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw nothing was there.

Aragorn turned to me. "Are you sure you saw something?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I actually didn't see anything. I just heard it…right? "I—I, um…th—there w—was a thing…it said "Gollum!" I squeaked, looking around, just in case whatever had spoken was nearby. I cautiously bent down to pick up my skin of water, twisting it in my hands.

I felt Aragorn tense up, and he said softly, "Go back to the camp, Ella. Get some sleep. You've earned it."

His tone was hard and commanding. I knew better than to protest, and I ran back to the camp. I didn't look at any of the Fellowship, although they were all giving me questioning stares. I just spread out my blanket and tucked it around me.

Even though I was a little scared, the warmth of a fire and the soft conversations of my companions was a comfort to me. I slowly drifted off, and I had a dreamless sleep.

As we did every morning, we rose early to keep travelling. We packed the boats and doused the fires. Aragorn kicked the ashes over where we had been sleeping. I didn't understand at first, and then I realized that it was to cover our scent.

I felt a pang of fear. Whatever was tracking us could smell us. I prayed that I didn't have any scent on me at all—that I blended in perfectly with my surroundings. I lifted my sleeve to my arm. I smelled like campfire. I didn't know whether that was good or bad.

We got back into the boats and continued upstream.

Legolas was silent, but Gimli talked on and on about Mithril, Dwarf tales and battle techniques. I listened carefully, especially to battle techniques, trying to take my mind off the trackers.

As the Dwarf continued, I looked around at the scenery. There was a lot of white rock and little shore. The river was widening, I noted. I wasn't sure if this was good or bad. I didn't know much about geography…

I gasped. "L—Look!"

Ahead of us, rising hundreds of feet into the air, were two stone statues. They were both of men wearing robes and tall feathered crowns. They held a single hand out, palms facing towards us. A stern look was carved onto their faces.

"W—what a—are they?" I whispered, captured by the intricate details of each feature on their faces.

"Argonath. Kings of Old," Legolas murmured. I waited for a further explanation, but even the Elf seemed wonderstruck.

We sailed between the statues, and I shivered a little. When the tremor passed, I felt relaxed; calmer, almost. Like these majestic men were going to protect me and my comrades.

There was the noise of rushing water ahead. I looked down the river and saw mist rising from where the river seemed to end—a waterfall! I'd never seen one before, but I'd heard about them. A translucent rainbow flickered among the mist.

Legolas directed our boat to the shores, and I stumbled out. As soon as my feet hit the solid ground, I hiccupped a little. The river had grown rougher, and I was feeling a little nauseous.

"Sit," a voice commanded, pushing me gently to the ground. Legolas squatted beside me and offered some water. I gratefully took it. "Take small sips and breathe."

I did as he directed and placed my head between my knees. For a moment, I felt as though I was going to vomit, but with Legolas' direction, I soon felt normal again. I looked up. "Th—thank y—you!"

He just smiled and helped me stand.

As we started to set up our camp, Aragorn tied the boats to some trees near the shore. "We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the North."

As I went to drag the boat up onto the shore, Gimli snorted. "Oh, yes? It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil?! An impossible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks!"

I squeaked, and the boat slipped from my grasp. I had to run out into the river to get it before it floated out too far, thoroughly soaking my clothes from the knees down. As I trudged back onto the riverbank, I heard Gimli say, "And after that, it gets even better!"

I looked at Pippin with alarm. He looked exactly the way I felt.

"Festering, stinking marshlands, as far as the eye can see!" Gimli said grimly.

"That is our road," Aragorn said.

I gulped.

Aragorn smirked a little. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my—grr…"

Aragorn came over and helped me drag the boats into a small grove of trees, concealing them from view. I rubbed my hands, and Legolas joined us. Leaning in, he said quietly, "We should leave now."

"No!" Aragorn said, making me flinch with the harshness in his tone. "Orcs patrol the Eastern Shore. We must wait for the cover of darkness."

Legolas' eyes darted from side to side, as if he saw something—or was looking for something. "It is not the Eastern Shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near—I can feel it."

I looked behind me, to where evergreen and oak trees marked the start of a forest. I quickly moved away from the forests, getting as close to the shoreline as possible. I emptied my bag, and looked over all my items. A dress, two blankets, mittens and a hat.

Something was missing; I groaned as I realized I'd left my other dress in Rivendell. My brow furrowed in disappointment, for I had liked that dress. I sat there brooding as I refolded my belongings and fasted the strings on my bag.

Legolas walked around the camp, offering everybody lembas. I took some gratefully and wrapped my cloak around me, nibbling on the light wafer. It tasted good, like honey and strawberries.

"Where's Frodo?" Merry's voice was frantic.

My back stiffened and I looked around the camp. The Ring bearer was nowhere to be found, but I noted that the shield of Boromir leaned up against a tree. The Man of the South was also gone.

I didn't like this, I didn't like this at all. I didn't like the way Boromir had taken a keen interest in Frodo after he learned that the Halfling carried the Ring of Power. An ominous feeling bubbled up in my stomach.

"D'you think he's all right?" Pippin asked.

"Boromir will protect him," Gimli grumbled. He was still in a mood after Aragorn had hinted that he was tired. He was like a child.

"I'm going to go look for him," Aragorn said, and he took his weapons and walked off rather quickly into the forest. His footsteps soon faded away, and I brought my knees to my chest, with worry coursing through my veins.

I needed something to distract myself, and I quickly stood, ignoring the wave of vertigo that came over me. I drew my sword and walked calmly into the forest. I didn't want to alarm any Fellowship members with my weapons, and them thinking that there was danger would only result in conflict.

I swung my sword up once I was in the secrecy of the trees. I imagined my enemy standing before me—a man, boy really, with my height and physique. Aragorn had told me to imagine an enemy when I practiced on my own.

The boy took the first move.

I parried the blow, and moved back. I spun a little, my feet moving neatly behind me. I smiled at my improvement over the past few weeks. I was still beginning, but I was nowhere near the level I had been when I had started this journey.

I swung and tried to cut my opponent. He smiled at me, and I took my opportunity. I tapped his leg with my sword, and he fell to the ground, his sword lying a few feet away from his side.

Then he vanished as a cry rang through the forest. It was deep and guttural, like something from the depths of Hell. "Find the Halflings! Argh! Find the Halflings!"

Frodo.

I started to run back to the camp, and when I was halfway there, Legolas and Gimli sprinted right past me. "Wha—?" I never finished my question, but I did follow them. We ran to some ruins, weathered and beaten down with age. Tall, dark beings with tangled hair and harsh faces were gathered around Aragorn, who was cutting them down with some difficulty.

What are these things? I voiced my thoughts, and Aragorn replied. "Uruk-hai! Orcs bred by Saruman!"

I jumped into the midst, ignoring my fears. I didn't have time to be afraid, my comrade was in danger. I sliced at an Uruk, and it fell to my feet. One was right behind him, and it swung a crude-looking weapon at me. I quickly ducked, and kicked out with my feet, knocking it to the ground.

Instinct took over; the will to survive dominated my body. I cut them down, showing no mercy at all.

Thwack!

I fell to the ground, and rolled down a hill, hitting rocks and branches as I slid down the leaf-covered ground. I heard Legolas yell my name, desperation running throughout his voice. I tucked myself into a ball, and when I finally came to a stop at the foot of the hill, I flexed my hands—then froze.

My sword was at the top of the hill.

"Dammit!" I started to run back up, slipping occasionally on the leaves. Thankfully, there were few Uruks on the hill, and the ones I passed didn't even seem to notice me. They were looking for someone else. Frodo.

When I reached the top of the hill, I saw my sword lying in the grass by the ruins. I threw myself at it, but I overshot my jump. I sliced my palm open on the blade just by the handle, and I yelped in pain.

The cut wasn't too deep, but scarlet blood still ran down my hand and dripped into the dirt, colouring it dark brown. I felt bile rise in my throat, but this was no time to be sick. I grasped my sword handle, and as soon as I made contact, three short blasts of an ox-horn sounded through the forest.

The sound was unfamiliar, and I didn't know how to react. But then I heard a cry of "Boromir!" and Aragorn flew past me. I scrambled to my feet and followed, assuming that Boromir was in danger.

As we headed towards the sound, more Uruks ran towards us, menacing looks on their faces. The sound came again, and they stopped, as if they didn't know what to do. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli also stopped, unsure about what was happening.

To my surprise, my legs willed me forward, and I cut down a path through the Uruks, and kept going, my hair loosing from its ponytail and flying out behind me in a dark tornado.

I could see Boromir ahead with his back to us, and two small figures—Merry and Pippin! They were throwing rocks at advancing Uruks, and Boromir was defending them with his own sword. I jumped beside Boromir, and he looked a little surprised to see me there. But he regained his wits and kept battling.

Sweat started to run down the sides of my face, and my arms grew sore from the effort of holding up my sword. But that primitive part of me knew that I had to live. Fight or flight. And it was too late to run now.

I heard the gasp of Boromir, and I looked up. I never saw what was coming, but I felt the arm of the Man of the South hit me across the stomach and send me flying a few feet to the side, away from the battle.

An old oak tree stopped my momentum, and my head smacked against it. I felt blood pouring from my hairline and mingle with my sweat. A low groan reached my ears. I looked up and gasped.