The next several days passed much as the first. They woke early and ate breakfast, then walked south until about midday, when they would break for lunch and training. Colden didn't seem to hold any grudge against Teidrin at all for the gash that now ran across his palm. In fact, the incident seemed to have given Teidrin some confidence, and he fought with renewed strength. Even Arya had to marvel at how quickly he was learning. Watching him fight was also very strange. He wasn't as strong as Colden, and didn't swing his sword like a traditional knight, but he wasn't as quick and fluid as Arya, either. He seemed to have found a sort of balance in between the two, and it was working well for him.

After nearly two weeks had passed in this manner, the company was camped on a large plateau of rock on the top of a hill, overlooking a rolling forest that stretched out to the horizon. The Misty Mountains were visible on their left, though partially hidden by a thick layer of mist that had rolled over the area overnight. Bill the Pony was tied to the nearest tree, already wide awake. Ary herself had just woken up, and scanned the campsite, eyes pausing on each motionless body. She frowned. There were only eleven other people in sight.

She stood silently, stretching her back while remaining vigilant of her surroundings. It was impossible to tell which two people were missing because of how hidden everyone was by their coats and cloaks in the dim light, but she had her suspicions. They were confirmed a moment later when she spotted the tip of Gandalf's hat poking out from behind a tree some distance away. Arya crept toward him cautiously, careful to avoid the dry leaves and branches that littered the ground. The tip of the hat remained perfectly still, giving no indication of Gandalf having heard her.

Going a little closer, she could make out the wizard sitting with his back to the tree, a long pipe sticking out of his mouth. Every few seconds, he would blow a perfect smoke ring off into the sky, where it would dissipate. Aragorn was sitting beside him. He too held a pipe in his hands, but it wasn't lit. Instead, he twirled it pensively between his fingers. Arya studied the pair for a moment, curious.

Gandalf suddenly spoke aloud, a hint of merriment to his voice. "There's no need to hide, my lady. Come and sit, if you wish. It is a fine morning to sit, is it not?"

Startled, Arya stepped out into his field of vision. Gandalf glanced over at her, as did Aragorn. Arya scowled. "I wasn't hiding."

"No indeed!" Gandalf laughed. "And I suppose your hand is not at your sword, either?"

Arya hastily withdrew her hand from the weapon, blushing. She hadn't even realized it had been there in the first place. Gandalf seemed to be very amused at her discomfort, chuckling into his beard. Even Aragorn had a small smile on his face, though his eyes were on the ground. Arya cleared her throat, trying to change the subject.

"So… Why are you here so early? Isn't it Gimli's watch?"

Aragorn looked up. "We relieved him some time ago. As Gandalf said, it is a fine morning to sit. And so we are here to sit and think. For there is much on my mind, my lady, as there is on yours, no doubt. Ere the day ends, I hope that we shall reach the Redhorn Gate, and come thence across the mountains. But you, my lady, have a different path ahead of you; one which might not appear so plain as ours. The time is upon us now to decide who shall accompany you, wherever you may go."

Arya looked back toward the campsite. Colden had just woken up, yawning and stretching. The rest of the company was still asleep.

"I don't think anyone other than my companions should accompany me. Frodo needs the rest of you. Anyway, his task is more important than mine. Go with him. I'll be fine with just my men."

"So I thought you would say." Gandalf said. "And I would agree. For though your errand is shrouded in mystery, the journey of the ringbearer is paramount. Onn his dangerous path, he will need as many allies as can be found. You know the way to Edhellond as well as any of us here, and your road is far less perilous. But we shall speak more of this later, when the time has come to part; for this decision does not lie with us alone."

Arya nodded. "Well, I'll go wake Sam, then. He did say he'd make a stew of those squirrels for us, right?"

Gandalf's mouth twitched. "He did indeed."

After a delicious breakfast of squirrel stew, courtesy of a slightly disgruntled Sam, the company packed quickly and set off along their road once again. Today the terrain wasn't quite as easy as it had been in the past. They were walking along little-used paths through the forest, most of them very poorly maintained. They spent the first half of the day fighting their way through dense undergrowth and tripping over rocks. Rain from the day before had turned the ground muddy, too, and they had one incident where Pippin sank in up to his knees and Boromir had to pull him out.

The foul conditions were only worsened by the prospect of Arya's departure once they reached the mountain pass. It loomed over them like a heavy fog, though no one spoke of it. They all knew that this could very well be the last time they ever saw each other.

As the day grew late, the ground grew rockier, and started to slope upward. The air grew colder, and dark clouds drifted toward them from the North. Thunder boomed faintly in the distance, like the falling of some great hammer beating down on the mountain peaks. Not even Colden seemed to have the heart to try and strike up a song or conversation. The walk was long and silent, which only gave Arya more time to think. She considered her situation. So far the journey had been almost completely devoid of danger; even more so than her original trip to Rivendell. If the roads stayed safe until Edhellond. she might be out of this whole mess soon. Unfortunately, she seriously doubted that possibility.

The sun was just beginning to dip below the treetops behind them when they arrived at an inconspicuous fork in the road. They had passed many branching paths just like this one, but had always ignored them, sticking to the main road. This particular junction, however, was one they had all been dreading for some time. Arya and her companions would stick to the main road, yes; but this time the rest of the fellowship would take the smaller trail up into the mountains. Gandalf brought the company to a halt in the center of the road.

There was a pause. Then Gandalf said, "Now we have come to the place where our paths split. Yet we have no time to linger in our farewells; I would reach the lower slopes of Caradhras before we rest. And you, lady Arya, should go a little farther, while the light still holds."

"Speak not of haste, Gandalf!" Legolas lamented. "This day is evil enough. We have traveled long with these companions. Now that the hour of parting is upon us, should we not say our farewells?"

Gandalf was about to respond, but Aragorn beat him to it. "Legolas speaks truly. We have time to spare, Gandalf. Let us depart in an easier fashion than this. Caradhras will not have moved, come the morning."

Gandalf seemed to relent, so everyone set down their packs. They decided that Arya would travel the rest of the way with only her men from Westeros, which she thought made sense, as did Gandalf. However, that meant that would be leaving everyone else behind, perhaps forever. Arya had never been much good at goodbyes. She usually preferred to just leave quietly and unnoticed, disappearing before anyone could force her to endure a drawn out parting filled with annoying pleasantries. That didn't seem like an option this time, but she still held on to some semblance of hope that it would be short.

Aragorn approached her first. His expression was neutral, and so was hers, but she knew the conversation must have had some meaning for him. While she wouldn't call their relationship a friendship, it was true that he had been a trustworthy ally over the course of the last few weeks, and she hoped she had been the same for him. Despite her misgivings, she knew he was a good man. They were all lucky that he was on their side.

Their side . The thought gave her pause. Since when was it their side? She was one her own side, and the side of her family. That was it. She never affiliated with larger causes. That kind of loyalty had only gotten her hurt. So why was she even helping these people? How did she know they were even the right side to be on? She shook her head, clearing the thoughts away. There was no way to be completely certain that she was doing the right thing, but at the moment, this seemed like the best choice. She would have to let that suffice, for the time being.

The next to say goodbye were the hobbits. They came as a group, with Frodo at the head. She wasn't very close with any of them, but she had saved their lives on Weathertop, and they made sure to thank her profusely for it. She brushed off the compliments, and eventually got Merry and Pippin to stop bowing every five seconds. As they turned to leave, Arya caught Frodo by the arm. She felt she owed him some words. They had hardly spoken the entire journey.

"Frodo…" She didn't really know what to say. "Um… Look. I know you're small, and young, and inexperienced…" She trailed off. Then she saw the look on his face and rushed to continue. "But that doesn't mean you can't do it. Sometimes all it takes is a stout heart. Courage is far more important than anything else. Remember that."

"Thank you, Lady Arya." He said quietly. "I pray your words will prove true."

Arya nodded. "Well, good luck to you."

A ghost of a smile passed over Frodo's face. "And to you as well."

Gimli and Boromir both bade her farewell rather quickly, which she appreciated. Beneath Gimli's stern exterior, she knew he was sad to see her go. They understood each other, in a way, and were more alike than Arya would care to admit. She made sure to take one last look into Boromir's grey eyes before he departed. He still reminded her of home. Something about him made her think that he would fit right in with the Starks of Winterfell, and it wasn't just his looks.

Legolas' parting was too drawn out for Arya, but she allowed it. The elf hadn't made much of an impression on her since she had met him, but that might just be because she had met so many elves in her time here. He wasn't much different from the rest, as far as she could tell. When he had finished, she turned to look for Gandalf. He was the only one she hadn't yet talked to. Her companions were still busy saying goodbye to everyone around her, so she walked to the edge of the path.

She finally saw him, standing off to the side, leaning on his staff. He was observing the rest of the company, his eyes wandering. He saw her watching him and his eyes crinkled in a kind smile. She didn't approach him. There didn't seem to be any need. They just nodded to each other from across the road, and somehow, that nod conveyed more than any of the conversation she had just had. Despite the perils and hardships that awaited them both, she knew that both of them were prepared. They weren't the same; they weren't even all that similar. But they had come to an understanding. Somehow, they knew they could trust one another in the dark days to come. And that was enough.