A/N: Oooh! So the flight has already taken off and has been plunged into the first great trial. Which you'll know at the end of the chapter. *wink*.

Also, thank you for being so patient with me, like I can't explain lovely you guys are.

And I've decided to do something on the matter of English and the validated points. So English in this chapter is underlined with italics and a stressed word in only in italics.

For anyone wondering thst why the heck are there still 25 chs even though another chapter was uploaded. The answer is that we'll I just realised that there was a mistake in numbering the chapters and after 19 there was no 20 only 21. So I got around to rectify the mistake. Sorry.

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Chapter 25: Into the Gloom.

4th January, T. A. 3019.

Rivendell

"... if you take the Redhorn Gate, the pass under the far side of Caradhras, it'll be much easier to vaginate through the mountains." Filvendor went on, tracing the said path on the magnified map of the foothills of the Misty Mountains. He motioned to a few points, marked red on the dark lines of the route and I shifted closer to get that into my head, "You'll reach the Dimrill Dale, and then to the River Silverlode, in two weeks at the most, on foot."

My head snapped up in surprise and an expression that was gradually turning incredulous found its place,

"Two weeks!," I squeaked out loud, and then casting an apologetic look over to the librarian, continued, "It took me more than a month to do that last time."

Filvendor's expression fought something akin to disbelief and amusement and in the end, he decided to just chuckle as he shook his head.

"It happens when one is not aware of the paths through the mountains. They may appear to have no defined routes but if you venture the wrong way, you can be struck in those peaks for months."

Pointing to another course, near the foothills that I had trudged through on the way to Rivendell, he traced a large oval, moving above the route that I was now supposed to take,

"Look," he said, tapping at a specific point, "you entered the peaks from the Fanhuidol the Grey. This path that you most probably ventured on, divides into this Arctic fork, here." another tap at that point, and then he continued, "If you turn left, and down the Caradhras then only a week on the straight path. Although the right path, where the peaks appear lower, can lead you down Silvertine, on a road that circles upon itself twice only to reach the Celebdil, right back on the path that you first started on."

I stared at the map for another long moment, trying to keep all the points and shortcuts in my mind and finally sighed, ensuring the way once more,

"So this is the direction I take for those two weeks, and then straight into the foothills that will lead to Rohan?"

I asked motioning to the passage that we've decided on (more like the route he had decided on). Looking at the domain, it was at a good distance from Isengard, and near Hollin where orcs weren't keen to stay.

Filvendor looked troubled and then for a moment as if wondering whether he should tell me the information, shook his head. His expression was serious, frightening even.

When he next spoke his voice dropped to a murmur,

"Other factors are also to be considered Lanette. The scouts in the precious months have bewared us of the minors of Mordor. Crebain of Fangorn and Dunland- those are the creatures you steer clear of at all costs. Their gazes spread wide, and their periphery is unrivalled among the beasts of middle earth. If you're seen by them means that orcs will not be far off." I chewed on my lip and my heart sunk at the news. As if the threat of orcs and goblins and giants was not enough, now this too.

He opened the map that I was to take, the one marked with all the points well enough so I might not have any difficulty, and pointed to another route extending miles away from the first path,

"The Gap of Rohan might be safest from them, although it ventures closest to Isengard but," and then he looked at me for a moment forcing me to take in the gravity of his words. "venturing near Isengard is only bad for those who are not sure of the fidelity of the Rohirrim," I stared at him in disbelief, and the fierce 'what!?' that followed made the librarian's head snap up. Filvendor took my arm and only when we reached the deepest end of the library, away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, did he speak again,

"I couldn't help but listen into," he started with hesitation, only to stop with a click of his tongue and then a flustered hand ruffled his strands, "Aragorn, and even Gandalf, they're not sure of the fealty of the Rohirrim. Where their hearts have turned to, I mean, whether they still hold faithful to the free people of Middle Earth or have shifted to the clutches or the Dark Lord," I nearly cut him off, a hiss leaving my throat at his words. Suddenly it felt magnified, those looks of fear that had coursed through their eyes, of Filvendor, Of Elladan and the stiff acceptance of Elrohir. Why wasn't I told that they think of Rohirrim as far gone?

"The only comfort is that Eohere was raised a ranger, he has that loyalty, that fierce humanity in him that we all know. He's a friend, a companion, a brother in arms, and it is in him that we all place our hopes. For if he has turned then there is no hope left for Rohan." I nearly screamed at him, out loud, that why wasn't I made aware of this detail. Why wasn't this something that I was told? Why, when all of them were howling, throwing their tantrums, arguing with me, why would they still hide the truth?

I looked down at my feet. A feeling of gloom, of disappointment coursing through my veins. They've been so quick to reprimand but not quick to tell, huh?

Filvendor, seemingly sensing my distress murmured an apology and him I could forgive, I thought because it was him who had helped me, stood by me, prepared me when all of them (when Elladan) would not even look back at me.

Where there had once been regret, after our spat a week or so back, now there was just anger. My regret had dwindled until there had been rage (at his stubbornness), and now just frustration, (because he never knew when to move on and forgive. He didn't know).

These were the days I thought when a person realised who would stand by them and who would not, and it was this observation, this realisation that sent a pang through my already bruised heart.

The next hour passed in a frenzy. More discussions, more strategies; on how to survive, on how to attack, on how to kill but in the end most importantly, on how to sift into the shadows.

I nodded at that, the bile felt nauseating in my throat. Slipping in the shadows, we all knew how important that was, but when the time came would I even know what to do.

Rolling up the map at the urging gaze of the librarian, I put it in a bag along with the necessities I was going to take. A small vial, swirling with violet fluid made its way into the table and I was stopped by Filvendor's hand before I could put it back in.

"What is that?"

For a moment I felt the impulse to lie, even surprising myself. All the elves knew the significance of this plant, as this had only spoken of malevolence in their times. During the punishment of which was a dark era in the history of elves.

"Heratwreath" I replied. His eyes flicked towards mine, the orbs swirling in incredulity and a bit of fear thrown into the mix until he narrowed his eyes at my expression,

"You're willing to use it."

I sighed at that, pushing his hand away gently and placing the vial in the pocket of the sack that I was given,

"I hope that day never comes Filvendor, but Lord Elrond wishes me to take it."

He looked torn for a moment and then as we moved out into the cold winter night, his whisper floated past my ears,

"You'll be going straight to Rohan, Mellon nin," There was tinge of question in the fact that he spoke, and I didn't know how to answer that thought.

We ventured into the same little area, beside the same waterfall, where our friendship had truly developed and somehow it felt melancholy, those days when I was still heartbroken by the news I've heard and when the most of our troubles were 'how to be happy'. It was just like that in some sense but now, with our lives moving towards an uncertainty that was terrifying, I couldn't help but feel as if those days, about half a year ago, were a fragment of my imagination.

The water was in harmony, flowing with a peace that was ironic to the stresses of the valley and I sat on the same rock as I've done so many times. The chill of the January was biting during the late hours of the night and there was a certain woe in the breeze that ruffled the branches.

We sat in silence for a while, there was so much that could've been said, so much that perhaps I wanted to say but there was this hesitation always, perhaps what could be called the curse of a man as one never speaks of what was in their heart until it was (always) too late. I traced my feet to make an unconscious pattern on the ground and halted as Filvendor's figure shifted by my side.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him raising his arms, the hands that circled around his neck and the crisp clasp of metal before his hand was on my own.

I looked at him startled, his fingers cold against the flesh that I had kept warm inside the shawl and instead glanced at his fingers as he pried my fist open to drop something in it, and the metal of the round pendant gleamed in the moonlight.

"Here Lanette," he murmured and there was a certain quiver in his tone that was staggering. In the end, he just closed my palm over it and turned to my face with a smile that was strained and without doubt painful, "keep this."

"What is-"

My voice was cut off by his expression and for a moment he just stared at the water gushing down the rocks. The sound felt thick, unnecessary, and I just waited for him to reply, something about this pendant churning my stomach.

"I told you of my three friends that were lost somewhere along the line, right?"

He started and hesitated until my nod spurred him on. I remembered that little chat on the balcony. The mischievous banter that had turned into something that we had both just grazed the surface of. It was an unspoken promise between us, to not to dwell into the details until the other himself is okay with sharing. And why this tale now, I wasn't sure.

"One of them was a warrior, the only elleth to ever make it to the post of a commander in those times," I shifted my position so it was easier to look at him and the smile that etched on his face at her name sent pangs to my heart. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about a tale that was striving for rebellion but was destined to end in tragedy, "this was a pendant I exchanged with her. A promise to live the life and to not fade from this world, at least not until we see this world freed from the perils of times."

I traced my fingers over the crescent and the small rose that was carved beautifully over the surface. A promise to live, huh, it was the hardest promise of them all.

He inhaled sharply, before continuing,

"She died on an orc siege, all fifteen of the company burnt to crisp, it was the time Elladan and Elrohir's mother was taken. Perhaps that is why we three bonded so well because all of us had lost someone so precious to ourselves during those few months of darkness."

He turned his smile towards me and I felt the words burning at the tip of my tongue, that he needn't smile at this, that not every moment of his life demanded strength and courage, and that not every person in this world demanded perfection. Some just want to embrace the broken embers of your heart. But sometimes, some things are self-explanatory and it was not long before his face was taught with the painful recollections of his past.

He looked at me, those two orbs that had always been filled with warmth and compassion, liveliness and spirit, turned into hollow stones, "This pendant," he continued, eyes looking at the metal caught between my fingers, "It is my promise of life, a promise to live, a promise of Réunion."

"How can I-" I started, extended the pendant towards him but his palm stopped the movement midway, pushing it back.

He looked at me, and there was a plea to let him finish and so I stuffed my tongue and waited for his voice,

"All elves believe in reunions, for the lands beyond the sea are the immortal soil for us all. But those that die of fatal wounds can never make it past" Desperation, regret, disappointment, melancholy. His expression spoke of it all.

"That promise is destroyed. I can never see that woman again." and there was also something that burned brighter than the rest, something that was even more tragic than the fate that befell her. It took me a moment to decipher what it meant, what those eyes spoke of.

"You-" I gasped at the realisation. Sometimes one's heart just goes out to a person and at that moment I felt those pangs in my own very chest.

"You loved her" I murmured my voice thick with the emotion.

His expression turned thoughtful and then a hint of sadness as he shook his head,

"I'm not sure," but there was a wariness that lined his tone, "I never thought of it, because there was always a promise that hung over us until it tore us all apart"

And then a smile, a remembrance of what was beautiful and what could've been until it was shattered. It flickered my mind towards the days of my past. The certainty with which I had slept that day until the coming dawn had torn it all apart,

"Perhaps I truly did love her, until it was too late to realise, or perhaps I fell in love with those beautiful memories, that were the only thing left for me to replay."

I looked at the surging water for a moment to collect my buzzing thoughts before staring back at him

"You must know it. Wouldn't you? Now, after those centuries, whether you loved her or not."

He seemed to consider my words until a sigh reverberated from his figure,

"Elves fall in love once, and when it is taken they fade, or sail to the shores for the effect of that love is too unbearable"

There was that expression, that regret he had worn on that day, the same distress and the same self-loathing, that filtered across his face, "I did neither."

I took hold of his arm, a certain determination burning in my expression. It wasn't like that and he had to know it.

"Because you had the promise to keep. Because perhaps for you the greatest form of love was to ensure that you never betray her, not until your last breath." I gave him a smile that had turned watery due to the tears his distress had brought.

"And if you've faded where would have I found my best-est friend"

He gave a small smile at that, something that reached his eyes and for a moment lightened the atmosphere. Giving me a small look, as if wondering something he spoke again a moment later. The embers of distress were now wiped out of his tone, now fused only with a hint of melancholy.

"You reminded me of her at first. A streak of rebellion, a hotheadedness that is tenacious but in the end, you became your own person."

He gave me a smile that I returned wholeheartedly, for it was because of people like him that I could be myself in this world.

"You can only be Lanette Anderson if that makes any sense for you."

I shook my head, to signify that for me it did make a lot of sense and patted a hand over his,

"And you can always be only Filvendor you know, the raw, beautiful and sassy person beneath those layers that I'm proud to say I'm privy to."

I was rewarded with a laugh. The silence extended for a while longer. Both of us content to let the emotions subside. It wasn't until I was nearly drooping with tiredness that he spoke again,

"So keep the promise lanette"

I looked at him, at the gaze that suddenly burned with a plea, "I've lived those years, only to fulfil my vow, so keep the promise with which I give you this, Lanette."

He gave me a small smile, mournful and fearful but mixed with a hope that wrenched my heart.

"Comeback huh? You must come back"

I stared at the rose curling above the crescent. The weight of his words was a lot, especially in the era of such precariousness. But there was something that I had to say, something that I also wanted. I focused on him, taking his hand in my own and pressing our fingers together. His eyes, curious, shifted between the hands that were pressed in an oath and my expression,

"Let's change the promise Filvendor, I'll promise too, both of us, that we'll live."

His expression fell for a moment, and I wondered how he had passed these years but sometimes, it is our selfishness that drives us and right then perhaps I wanted him to live, for himself and for me. To be happy. To move on despite that heartbreak. Because he was a person who could smile despite the flame that held his heart ablaze and the one that could make the world better despite this own heart that had been crushed. Because he was the strongest person that I knew and because I was there for him now. Because now come hell or high water he won't live alone.

There was an understanding that touched his expression, a tenderness that overtook his face and when he spoke it was with a smile that was tenacious,

"It's a hard promise to keep but something tells me that it will be worthwhile in the end."

12th January, T. A. 3019.

Foothills of Caradhras

The stick rolled down from the pile, stopping right at my feet. I sat there, on the rock that I had rolled towards the destination, which was essentially a large tree, with its grey bark not less than a meter in width. The two rocks in my hands, the ones I had collected to spark a flame, felt heavy as I mulled over the need.

The cold in the air and the nearby peaks of the misty mountains lent an unbearable nip to the surroundings and I wanted nothing more than a flame flickering merrily before me. But the area was to close to the mountains, settled in its rocky foothills and the warnings about Crebain still echoed in my ears.

The night had settled long ago, and in the dark with no source of illumination, the fear that had coursed through my veins had doubled. The light of the half moon caused shadows in the dark, the shadows that moved with the shifting leaves and for a moment I felt uncertainty course through my veins. I gave the area another thoughtful look, wondering whether I should stay here but I was sore from all the horse riding and my stallion, that was tied to the tree next to me, was already dozing off. The previous week had been hard on us both, and with little to no vegetation in these rocky areas after Hollin, I was sure that rest was extremely important.

Still, I felt goosebumps rise on my arm and I couldn't help my thoughts, "Is it cowardly to be frightened?" and it wasn't until my voice fell to my own ears that I realised that I had spoken these words aloud. The only answer was the hiss of the winter breeze through the branches of the ancient trees.

I had forgotten how lonely these trips once were and in this isolation, my mind wandered to all the adventures I had till now.

That naive little trip through the tracks right outside Bree. I wondered if my phone and stuff were still sitting in that little drawer in the guest room of Rivendell that I was allotted. The days before the departure were so hectic, and so emotionally draining that I didn't give enough thought to my old stuff. Still, during the night of my last day there, I had sifted through it and the emotions that it arose in me were something that I had worked really hard to bury. My chest tightened at the thought and my left hand traced the ring on the right, that ring that I always wore on my index finger, the thin band had once been a source of fashion and quite a thoughtful birthday gift from my sister. How had I forgotten this little trinket buried in my drawer, I wasn't sure. In Gondor, I had taken it off to pull out the whole maid scenario. On the way, I had kept the band hidden, because white gold was surely something that could be stolen and in Rivendell... Well, there I had kept it out of the way because the bruise of the truth was too painful to bear. But now I wore it for a sense of belonging, for a sense of myself or for a sense of comfort, I wasn't sure. Sometimes when the emotions become such a huge nova in your chest you are unable to identify what you truly were feeling.

The way to Rohan, then extended to Gondor was the next adventure I had undertaken. It was also one of the best that I had done, in the company of a man that was my friend, confidential and person that helped me to stand on my feet here. With the fear of Aragorn and even Gandalf about the loyalty of the Rohirrim, I had found my thoughts overtake by that particular journey too many times for my liking. And every time I found myself repeating those little talks, chats, actions and even glances that I had exchanged with him, a single clue about whether he was then a man turned by evil and every time I felt like slapping myself, for doubting a person who had helped me every turn of that way.

I leaned back, flopping down onto the hard, cold ground and groaned out loud.

"That might just be the last thing that I want," he had said during that goodbye. With the light of the rising sun shining through his dirty blond hair, the strands of which reached halfway down his neck in a messy fashion, and the blue eyes that reflected melancholy and kindness but still an edge of strength, it was an image that had become the norm in the thoughts.

I shook my head, wondering where this all was going and hoping against hope that he was the same guy as those days.

The only thing that made my stomach squeeze uncomfortably was the fact that I had not even known that he was a man of royalty until after I had parted ways with him, so the fact that there was so much more to him that I didn't know and the man that I was privy to was just a cover of his real self was the thought that frightened the crap out of me.

The world was not as scary, I decided, the humans were the beings that made it downright frightening, and it was with this last thought that I drifted into a fitful sleep.

It was with a loud neigh and the clamorous pattering of hooves from the side, that woke me. I was on my feet, with a hand on the sheathed Agnaria before I could comprehend what was happening.

The quiet of the night was disconcerting and I let my hand drop after many long moments of silence. With a hand on the reign of the haggard horse I tried to quieten him down but even without the voices, it dropped on its legs and shivers overtook its body.

It wasn't until the crow of a bird and the swish of the wings came from near my head that I realised the true gravity of the situation. I dropped by the ground at the scare, with a hand struggling to cover my head and the view of the dark sky, illuminated scarcely by the shine of the moon, that was getting hidden by the swift flight of the beasts, knocked all the air out of my lungs.

The flying beasts of Mordor, Filvendor had said. Their presence meant that the orcs would not be far off either. It was this damnation that rung through my head and forced me to scamper to my feet. Their voices echoed through the area and I covered my ears at a particularly loud screech that sounded just to the right.

I needed to leave this place before the orcs found out about me.

With the horror coursing through my veins and the sudden noise that filled the quiet of the night with the loud neighs and crows of the beasts, I struggled to make my mind tune in with my thoughts.

The path that we had decided on previously would be no longer available, not if these beasts were keeping an eye on the mountains, so it only left me with the gap of Rohan and that area was fearsome in its own right.

Still, I needed a distraction, a way to sift in the shadows and the loud thumps of the stallion would only lead me into trouble now.

It was with great difficulty that my arms circled around its neck and I buried my head in the warm coat, murmuring words of reassurance just like Filvendor and hoping against hope that he couldn't make out the quiver of my tone.

"Go," I murmured into the coat when the shivering had stilled for a moment, "Go, Go and stay with Filvendor. Your owner needs you." It was then that I got a look at the beady eyes, hooded in fear and despair. My heart wrenched at the thought that this journey might be towards his end and I prayed again and again that he will make it to Rivendell. I hoped with all my heart that he will.

The stallion, with a little hesitation, took thundering down the path that led back towards Hollin. Left at my own devices, with the beasts still raging the skies, I stumbled to the shade of the tree, heaving up my bag and jumping down to the covered rocky path.

If it was to stay away from their sight then the best course was of the foothills, the large mountains and their magnificent heights hiding the narrow paths in their embrace.

It was with a thundering heart and shivering body that I started down the arduous path, with the screeches of terror still resounding in my mind.

It took me a while to find the right path through the rocky terrains. By the time I was sure that I was going to the direction of the redhorn pass, from where my way will be straight through the same terrain, the sun had long risen, with the hours stretching in and it was finally turning into noon. The map was held limply in my fingers and I didn't even keep track of how many times I had thanked Filvendor in my head for making this something to be easily understood on the way.

The last ten hours or so had been rushed, with the constant fear of being caught, the worry of run-in with the orcs, the fear of the Gap of Rohan and the worry for the stallion that had served as a decoy, I had barely felt the need or the spirit to stop to take a rest. But now as the distance between me and the last night's domain grew momentously, my steps slowed on their own accord. The ache through my legs was persistent and growing and once again I was reminded of how hard the journeys usually are.

I turned on my feet, walking backwards for a moment and hoping to scout the area for any threat. At that moment, if I had the eyes and the ears of the elvish community, it would've served not only for my safety but also for my mental satisfaction but a bugger to be stuck with the normal eyes and I could see nothing of consequence as far as my eyes could make out.

The area was quiet, similar to the day yesterday and I hoped that this was not another calm before the storm. I really needed to stop and rest if I wanted to continue, so after going on for about half an hour, I stopped to rest under a jutting rock that provided a sanctuary to the ground. Looking in the small area I prodded with the sword to make sure it was safe before dropping down to the ground. My stomach grumbled with full force yet I could not find the strength to just move my arm. With a hand massaging my right shoulder and the other one rummaging through the back for a meal of bread, I let my mind wander to the orange light that I had seen near the Caradhras, just after I had run from the area. The fire, which had raged in full force for only a moment was a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows and I couldn't help the goosebumps that rose on my arms. With an abrupt heave, I stood, not wanting to lurk anymore and it was when I was already down the path that I heard the thump of feet. The howls sounded a moment later and in a moment of clarity I pressed myself against the rocky cliff and my hand found its way to my mouth, keeping it pressed shut. I clinched my eyes for hoping to disperse the sudden panic. With my heart pounding in my ears and all the senses suddenly magnified I waited with bated breath as the footfalls circled on the upper cliff and then thundered away.

I stood there for a long while, with my body still stuck to the cliff and it wasn't until I was sure that I was left alone again that I let my hand drop from my mouth.

Backing away from the cliff I chanced a look at the rising red stones wondering where the orcs and wargs have gone to. Within the next moment, I was on the road again, hoping to put as much distance between me and the wargs as soon as possible.

The sun was diving towards the west, the noon gradually but surely changing its hue towards the evening when I heard the next steps.

I wondered what the world was coming to, and how much of rotten luck was left for the day for me to come into contact with so many dangers in such a short span of time.

Every time there was some new the voices and pounding of the feet, I felt as if I was listening to the summons to damnation and every time I came across even an innocent animal, I felt my body freezing with uncertainty.

I went rigid at the thudding sounds and then hoping to be quiet, sifted into the small opening within the rocks. It opened to a road leading to an even narrower path and in that moment of pin-drop quiet I made out the drizzle of some stream far away. With a desperate look to the left, I saw a small hole and at that moment I didn't care if it was infested with even a colony of scorpions because the torture at the hands of the orcs was way more chilling.

I chanced a movement to the left, placing a careful foot on the terrain and was just about to slip left from the side, down the slope to the hidden hole beneath when a hand grasped my upper arm, the broad palm curling easily across my arm and all the sounds of protest were muffled with another covering my mouth.

The huge presence behind me, and the hold onto the firm chest made my whole body freeze with terror and I struggled for a moment before I was pushed out into the light.

Stumbling through the rocky path, I heard the pummel of my bag on the floor and my eyes strained against the sudden brightness.

"Blimey, if it's not Lady Lanette!" came a familiar, a welcome voice and I felt suddenly apt aware of my surroundings. The eight of the fellowship stood before me, their expressions of varying consistency and the shock in their gazes matching my own. The steps sounded from behind me and an incredulous Lord Boromir came to the view. I took a step to the side so that I was facing all of them at once and being the quite intelligent woman I was, my next response was something along the lines of "What the Fuck is this?"

My mouth opened for an explanation, as all of them seemed to be waiting for one but it was with a sudden 'not here', that I was stopped and Gandalf, looking somewhere along the horizon, at the dark cloud swiftly growing in size pushed us to move.

It was, perhaps, one of the most apprehensive walks I've ever had in my life.

"... guarded by the Crebain, of Dunland," I continued my explanation, while munching on the generous slice of bread, jam and butter that Sam had provided. The company had paused for a small meal, only for half an hour and Gandalf wanted me to make use of this time.

With the serious figures of Gandalf, Frodo and Aragorn before me, the broad presence of Lord Boromir somewhere to the left and the Prince leaning at the nearest stump, I felt cornered and stumbled for a moment during my explanation. "Filvendor preferred that path but now it is not suitable unless I want only my remains to reach not the message, I need to go through the Gap of Rohan,"

Boromir perked up at the words and his stance turned argumentative, "A lady can pass through the dark terrains and not us trained warriors," he asked, his tone mixed with an incredulous sarcasm and barely contained frustration. Gandalf shook his head at him and the glanced back at me, "That is the most foolish choice you can make, child," Aragorn seemed to agree as he nodded his heard, his swift gaze still keeping an eye on the surroundings. "The Gap of Rohan is barely safe for those that have nothing to do with it, much less for someone carrying that message. I'm afraid Saruman's gaze spreads wide and any inclination that it was me who sent you, he will make it the cause of your doom."

I looked at my hands straining in my lap giving out a huge exhale before agreeing with him.

Lord Boromir shifted to the side and a moment later took his place on a rock at the left. He looked contemplative for a second and when my gaze met with his, something crossed his face that I couldn't place.

He leaned forward, his hands clasped in the front and the brow furrowed in a challenge.

"What message is it that you speak of, Aragorn?" despite the fact that he addressed Aragorn, at the end of the question his eyes bore into mine, reminding me of the same challenge from a month ago.

If I hadn't been flabbergasted at his question, I might've bristled at his words but instead, I cast a confused look towards Gandalf and then back at him,

"You don't-" I stopped suddenly, not knowing what else to say.

There was silence for a while, on all of our parts and the hushed whispers of the rest of the hobbits came from behind. Gimli looked between the two of us, interested in where this conversation was going.

Gandalf took his sweet time, inhaling a large whisp of smoke and sighing after the exhale. The smoke, to my distraction, took the form of a petite figure but it was ruffled too soon for me to make it out.

"Of course, it is only a few that are aware of your endeavours Lady Lanette." Gandalf said, leaning back at the bark, "You might feel that we've betrayed you by not making you aware of the question of fidelity of the Rohirrim but it felt to us in your favour that you move with a light mind."

"I'd rather be prepared than be ignorant of the truth Gandalf," I said, my tone pointed and the sentence ended in a firm resolution. Lord Boromir looked even more confused than before but the look was soon hidden, and instead, the royal arrogance was painted again on his expression.

"A message to Rohirrim, for what?"

"A request, a plea if you may, to aid Gondor in the upcoming war. For it'll be in the interest of both the empires" I offered the explanation and from the corner of my eye saw the affirmation of Aragorn.

Lord Boromir's expression turned sour and whatever was on the rip of his tongue was stopped just barely.

"And you, Lady Lanette, were to carry the message?" he spoke, shifting do that his arm rested on the knee. I raised a brow at his argumentative stance and replied in a cool tone,

"Is there a problem?"

Legolas shifted on the tree and I barely missed the swift look he exchanged with Gandalf. Sensing the rising tension, he leaned on his staff,

"The path is too dangerous for a lone traveller, the Gap of Rohan is sorely out of question."

"I can hardly turn back now Gandalf"

It was Merry who spoke up right then, making all of us register the silence that had ensued over them in the last two minutes.

He padded towards Aragorn, something akin to hope lighting his eyes,

"Come through the mines with us then, come through Moria."

It took me a moment to find my tongue and I couldn't help but wonder when my company had started to mean so much to him. But in the end, it was the fellowship of the ring, the company that was out for a momentous purpose and I couldn't stand in their way.

"I'm pretty sure that is not a good idea Merry."

His face fell at my words, sharp and stern as they were and he looked at Gandalf pleadingly, making me tense up at where this conversation was going.

"Why not, we'll part ways after the mines, you can travel to Rohan and us, to where ever our destiny might take us."

I was just about to negate the fact, that I'll travel through the Gap of Rohan myself and that all the carefully planned and structured company shouldn't take in a wanderer just because our path aligned along the way.

They had the fate of the whole world resting on their shoulders. They had started with the foresight of Lord Elrond and the word from Lady of Light. They started on the road after long hours of planning and carefully selected members. They began, depending so much on destiny and fate and magic that I couldn't help but feel as if anything that might disrupt those conditions, it might affect their journey too.

But it was the voice of the elf, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood that killed the whole argument on my tongue,

"It is hardly right for the Lady to travel alone"

"Whoah! Hold up" I said with a snap of the fingers and stood from the seat,

"No one asked the opinion, dudes, and what about 'there are nine for nine ringwraiths' that Lord Elrond had said"

They looked contemplative at that as if it was a point to consider and I hoped that they would. There would be nothing better than travelling in a company that can potentially protect you from all the trouble but this company was totally off limits.

I turned towards Merry giving him a small smile,

"I will travel alone Merry, I'm sure I'll make it somehow."

"If it's only for the trek through Moria," Aragorn spoke up at that moment and I issued him a glare.

"No! I'm sure Fordo will not feel at ease."

I glanced at Frodo, knowing that he was the one who'll perhaps consider not the feelings but the situation. I felt his face strain with emotion, and then despair as his gaze flickered towards Boromir and then Gandalf and it wouldn't take a genius to notice that something had happened with Boromir.

In the end, he stared at me resolutely, his eyes sparkling with determination.

"It will be nice, Lady Lanette, if you walk with us."

And before I could even open my mouth to protest, Gandalf was on his feed, the last whiff of his pipe taken and was now emptying the ash to the side.

"The ring bearer has decided. Now hurry onto your feet, the doors must be found before the sunset." The whole company scampered at his words and within minutes they were continuing down the path leaving me flabbergasted at the back. Gandalf came to stand by me, leaning at his stick and the old mischief back in his brilliant gaze," Consider this an apology lady Lanette, for not making you aware of the true perils."

I spluttered at that, gawking at how fast the situation had escalated,

"You guys don't need to," I whispered and was awarded by a jovial voice of the elf from the front as he turned around to give me a smile,

"Oh, sure we do!"

I was left wondering from where did this affection and friendliness sparkle from.

I leaned against the bark of the tree as Gandalf mulled over the password to the door. The night had already fallen and the stars sprinkled on the sky were reflected by the still waters of the lake. Aragorn came to stand by and with a small smile in his direction, I focused again at the proceedings in front of me.

It had been almost half an hour since Gandalf had begun to consider the riddle and by the look of it, the things were not flowing smoothly at all. The company was scattered throughout the clearing, the hobbits hoarding the space near Gandalf. I was staring at the quiet depths of the pool, dark and deep as they were when Aragorn's voice cut off the musings.

"How do you think of conveying the message, if you do not mind me prodding into your matter, Lady Lanette?"

I looked at his face from the corner of my eye. At his expression that was calm yet somehow very alert and at the stance that was ready to spring into action at a moment's notice and couldn't help but chuckle at his words.

Instead, I looked back towards the front, leaning against the tree again before speaking,

"I hardly think that it is my matter alone, Lord Aragorn."

Something flickered in his eyes and his expression turned taught. There was a small flicker of his gaze, towards the hobbits that stood by Lord Boromir and I snorted at his blatant discomfort,

"Why do you even think like that?" I asked, raising a brow at his confusion, "Why do you hate being called the rightful heir when you are?"

He looked torn for a bare second and the emotions that are usually hidden beneath cool composure burst out, barely held back by his rein. He sighed at that, and his hand stroked the coarse hair of his jaw,

"I can hardly saunter up to the ancient and noble houses and claim my right Lady Lanette. Seeing a ranger on their ancient throne is the last thing they will want."

"A ranger who is more regal than all the rest you mean," was the prompt reply I uttered. I turned my face towards him, taking in his expression until he was forced to face me himself, "you have the bearings of royalty Aragorn, somehow I think that even in this condition, no one can truly take you down."

He said nothing for a moment. We were both content to stare at the chaos ensuing at the gate, and then he spoke, his voice nothing but a murmur.

"We have to see about that, although I haven't been to Gondor for an age."

The memories flashed through my mind, and I couldn't help but close my eyes to savour the good old days; of hope, of laughter, of purpose and of liveliness.

"I-" I started, and then remembered the days between the festivals. The strained look of the soldiers that were being celebrated. The tears of grief that fell during the victory. All those days when Lord Dervorin returned with failing health and a battered spirit. That day of the festival, when the heroes of the battle were standing on the altar, with Lord Boromir amidst them and the weary smile that overtook his haggard features, "I still remember those days in Minas Tirith, Aragorn. Even though I was rarely focused on those battles but the gloom had already settled on the people, by now... I'm not even willing to think how far their spirits might've fallen."

I leaned to the left so that I had a clear look of Lord Boromir from his field and spoke in a low tone knowing that both of our eyes were fixed on the same man.

"You should be ready, Aragorn, you never know when your fate decides to catch up with you."

He smiled, a small curl of the lips and amusement that danced through his eyes before he cooled his features, the old gaze now mixed with more amity. He spoke a moment later, once more down to business.

"Lady Lanette, about the message-"

A shout of Frodo disrupted his question and both of us turned to face the front.

"Why did you do that Boromir?"

Boromir stood by the bank of the pool and the ripples in the black water turned large and sharp. Frodo threw a glare his way and instinctively both of us took a step towards the gate before loud howls carried along with the hiss of the wind froze us in place. Aragorn threw a sharp look at the periphery, his hands were curling on his sword. Prince Legolas had his arm reaching back towards his arrows, his stance alert and ready to pounce on a second's notice.

The hobbit huddled closer towards Gandalf, tripping on their feet and glancing around fretfully.

"I wish we could get away!" Merry spoke, his tone now quivering with terror. Pippin agreed to the statement and suddenly Gandalf was on his feet, with a breathless laugh and words that we all wanted to hear,

"I've got it! Of course, of course..." he went towards the gates and with a single Mellon, the doors creaked open.

"Let us move towards the gates Lady Lanette," Aragorn said and I nodded in agreement.

It was when all of us were nearing the black abyss, relieved at the turn of events when a scream of Fordo halted all the action.

A huge beast rose from the pool, it's slimy skin wet and green, and it's numerous tentacles splashing furiously. Gandalf's cry ensued and made all rush towards the gate. I exchanged a look with Aragorn and some understanding seemed to pass between us as I looked around for the other two hobbits.

"Come on! Pippin whatcha waiting for?" I yelled at his frozen figure and then snapping in frustration grasped his arm and dragged his gawking self towards the steps.

"Get the fuck in Merry!" I yelled just before Merry came rushed into the mine. Several things happened in succession and thankfully everyone, except for the poor old pony, rushed in within time and the doors slammed behind us plunging us all into the murky darkness.

With the doors barred behind us and only the depth of the mines stretching beyond, the air around the fellowship was taught with tension. The moulded air and the blinding dark made me aware of my heart thundering in my chest and with every step that we took, the sounds echoed through the abandoned pathway.

Gandalf walked with Gimli at the front, a faint radiance coming from the end of his staff but the light was not enough to make us alert of any danger that might be lurking beyond, just enough to watch our immediate steps.

I had started walking just behind them but had unconsciously lagged behind until my steps matched that of Aragorn. He exchanged a look with me and at that moment I realised that somehow I felt extremely awkward with them all. Gandalf was an old man, leading the way and bothering him was not perhaps that good of an idea. Legolas, I haven't talked to ever so I wasn't sure whether I wanted to walk in stifling quiet with him. Lord Boromir was a case for another day, I had respect for the man but never had our chats led to anything but brimming frustration. Gimli, although I had talked with him quite a lot, was walking furiously in the front, with his shoulders taught and tense and face set in nonchalance but the air around him proved that he didn't want to be disturbed. The mines were not at all what he had expected and there was this question of what happened that was bothering him right then. The hobbits I was steering clear from because the only way to survive in the fellowship was to give Frodo his distance and that involved other hoobits of the company so I just lagged behind walking along with Aragorn, who aside from one quizzical look said nothing on the matter.

The top after two hundred gigantic steps was seen in a haze as all the heaving bodies dropped on the ground (of the hobbits and me) and Gandalf, sparing a look at out raddled figures called for a short break. The miruvor of Rivendell, sweet and refreshing, was nothing less than the water of life at that moment and it wasn't long before we were again on our feet, everyone eager to finish this gloomy journey as soon as possible.

Somewhere along the stroll, Gandalf had drawn his sword, held in his right hand and the company walked through the rising heights of the mines at a stiff pace.

The swords, which were supposed to gleam in the presence of orcs as I was made aware, were dark and lifeless providing a sense of relief to all. I wondered if Agnaria also had the ability, but I hadn't seen it gleam ever before and in impulse I nicked the blade from its sheath, just an inch to see the delicate pattern vanishing down its cover. The hiss of the metal, though momentary it was, cut through the stifling quiet and I couldn't help but grimace as nine pair of eyes flickered towards me. Aragorn seemed to understand what I was thinking and he shook his head, murmuring that the swords wielding prophecies and curses did not gleam.

The faint light from the staff lent a vague glow to the setting and in the dim shine one could make out the pathways, the arches, the tunnels sloping up and down and vanishing in the darkness, proving to be a bewildering sight.

It was when Gandalf and Gimli halted, whispering at the very front, seemingly disagreeing over something in hushed tones that I got the chance to take a look at the company. Lord Boromir, although already tense since the very beginning was beginning to get flustered by the increasing dark and loneliness of our surroundings and on this one thing I agreed with him wholeheartedly. I was not made for mines, none of us was and the quiet and impending doom that hung over our heads like a promise did nothing to dissipate the tension. It was Aragorn who reassured everyone, throwing light on the fact that Gandalf was a trusted member of the white council and that in him, we could place our blind trust.

With the continuation of the journey, the dark proved to be our severe enemy as many gaps, some more than a few meters wide spread across and some were hidden from plain sight until one of the members nearly tumbled into the deep dark depth. The company was overcome with a sense of deadly quiet. There was no talk except for emergencies and there was noise except for the steps of the fellowship; careful and light as that of Legolas and the hobbits, heavy footfalls as that of Lord Boromir and Gimli, alert and paced as that of Aragorn, or simple and light as that of mine. I turned my mind into the periodic noise of the footsteps to keep my mind from wandering and to say the least I succeeded.

It was after several hours that we had to take a proper break. Stepping into a dark archway, Gandalf halted and after pondering for not more than a moment announced that he had no memory of the place. To the right, there was a stone door, half open and Gandalf went in inside stopping Merry and Pippin to venture there unarmed. A deep well, with its rusty chains and broken walls, was situated just before us. The fellowship examined the well, taking in the bottomless pit but soon after losing interest were placing their bags beside the walls, claiming their place to sleep.

It was after I had set my bag, in an area the farthest from the hole, somewhere cosy, and a few paces from the Prince when a sudden pluck seemed to originate from the well and it echoed on the walls, rejuvenating through the hollow chamber.

"What's that?" Gandalf yelled, turning towards the well to see a petrified Pippin standing beside it. He growled at the sight, his fury seeping into his voice and making it quiver with rage,

"Fool of a Took! This is a serious journey, not a hobbit walking party!"

There was a faint sound that resounded in the mines, a far off beating of a drum that caused a chill to rise in my spine. Aragorn exchanged a troubled look with the trained men of the fellowship and it was with a certain grace that they all schooled their features to nonchalance as to not alarm the hobbits. I couldn't help but frown at the sight while waiting for the sounds to subside and the usual quiet to take its place.

Then, when it was decided that there will be no more strange noises in the dark, Gandalf turned around and with a swift gaze took in the fellowship standing near their bags. He huffed and rolled himself into his own and snapped at Pippin, before rolling to his sleep.

"You Pippin can go on the first watch as a reward."

I stared for a moment at the prompt turn of events and the Prince shook his head with barely masked amusement. He caught my eye as he was rolling himself in the cloak and his gaze softened a bit,

"It's better to rest a wink Lady," he said, his melodic voice carried as a whisper by the wind, "We never know what the depths of the darkness might bring."

I laid awake for a long while, listening to the levelled breathing of the fellowship in the dark and it was when I was drifting in and out of consciousness that I heard the faint voice of Gandalf.

"Go on the corner and have sleep..."

The words brought a smile to my lips, realising that even with all the frustration, the fellowship still cared dearly about one another and it was with a light feeling that I faded to sleep.

"From the feeling of the area we must be in the great hall. I will now risk a little light." Gandalf said and suddenly a brighter spark bloomed on his staff. The great hall, whose cavernous ceiling rose to the darkness with its end not visible to naked eye, was where we decided to spend the night. This hall lend even more vastness to the immense loneliness that settled over us and all of us huddled close to each other, in an effort to quench the fear.

The talk started with the majesty of the Moria halls and soon developed into a chatter in which all of the fellowship took part.

"What? A corset of Moria-silver? That was a kingly gift!" Gimli exclaimed, having heard for the first time about the gift awarded by Thorin Oakenshield to Bilbo. Everyone seemed to agree and there was a silence that was left suspended in the air after Gimli stopped his chatter about the majesty of the lonely mountain and all its riches with a certain wistfulness in his gaze.

It was Sam who spoke, ruffling me from the trance that had overtaken me.

"What about you Lady Lanette?" he asked and my gaze snapped towards his curious one.

"What about me?" I repeated, raising a brow at the sudden sparkle that luminated the warm brown of his gaze.

"How did you come by here?"

I considered his question for a moment, keenly aware that all the action had paused and the curious gazes that were now fixed on my figure. I just contented to sigh before I spoke,

"If you're talking about this world, then I never found out. If of Rivendell then, it was on a quest to gain answer for the first one."

There was silence, just for a moment before Pippin spoke up.

"So did you? Knew what you strived to know" he asked and Merry kicked his shin with a sharp look. I couldn't help the amusement from taking over my features knowing that Bilbo, in his endless chatter might've revealed how I was struck in this world forever.

I nodded in affirmation, a mellowed emotion overtaking my mind and I gave him a tight-lipped smile,

"Not all answers lead to satisfaction."

"But how is it? Your world. Is it much different?" Sam spoke again.

I contemplated the answer, wondering what he was truly aiming at: at the locations, or the civilizations or the people or all of those combined.

"It is different, momentously even," I started, "First of there are only humans, and to some extent dwarves, short humans they're considered in our world. No hobbits, or elves, or wizards or orcs..." glancing at their gobsmacked expressions I chanced a smile, "No magic even."

Frodo murmured in awe. A moment later his expression cleared and something flickered in his gaze,

"You never speak of how it is."

I gave a small chuckle at that, coking my head to the side with a sigh, and looking past Lord Boromir to the dark,

"It's not that I don't want to, I just can't." I said and then turned towards him, "Consider this Frodo. My world might be similar to what this world will be in at least a thousand years. At the very least."

I ignored the indignant splutter of Gimli, the raised brow of Aragorn, the twitch of the Prince's facial muscles and instead continued pointedly,

"Things change with every year, and with centuries of growth and development... There are things possible that will be considered ludicrous here. Things that are a result of a series of inventions, of facts, of the knowledge of aeons. It is not possible for me to explain something that hasn't even been triggered into action yet."

The hobbits stared at me for a long while, Pippin with a decidedly clueless expression which was shaken out off as Sam spoke again. This time the curious tone of his voice was mixed with a childlike plea,

"Tell us something, one thing at least," he exclaimed. I mulled over everything. Mobile phone and television seemed too far fetched, actually anything with electricity was something they'll never understand, so I went after the next best thing to a horse, a motor car, "There are ummm cars for example,"

"Chahr?" came an innocent query from Frodo and I couldn't help the gleeful curve of my lips,

"A car. Something that can travel with a speed of more than a hundred miles per hour. You just need oil to function it."

Lord Boromir slapped his hand to his knee in incredulity and Gimli snorted in disbelief.

"That is ludicrous." said the Prince and I shook my head with a small smile.

"I told you."

"But are the people like you?" Sam continued, his voice taking up a livelier edge that I haven't heard for days, "Is it considered normal for a Lady to work."

I rolled my eyes at the question, somehow not the teensy bit surprised that it would somehow arise,

"First of all, there aren't many ladies in my country," I said, ignoring the sound of protest that Lord Boromir made,

"Second, well yes. A person who has a degree, a job, who works, who ears for themselves, yes they're respected."

"But a woman." came Lord Boromir's reply and if I hadn't been bristling at their disappointment I would've laughed at the whine in his tone,

"Times change Lord Boromir, and so do the people," I replied, raising a brow for a challenge and then shook my head, placing my hands on the knees,

"Well not so much the people," I murmured thoughtfully, "I've still encountered sick patriarchal assholes more than anyone would fancy but that's what they were considered in my time, just closed minded, needless, fight mongers. Just sad. Sad men."

Their looks at the sarcasm lining my voice and the curses that left my tongue were too comical for my comfort and I barely held in the chuckle that was bubbling in my throat. Instead, I raised a brow in what I wanted to be scepticism,

"Although here, I see its quite the norm."

A muscle twitched in Aragorn's face and I held up my hands,

"Though I'm not pointing anyone out."

"Perhaps with the times." Lord Boromir spoke again and I let my gaze bore into his own, bringing him to a certain amount of discomfort before I agreed to his point.

"Perhaps."

We continued on our way after breakfast and it was after moving across the northern archway and entering into the wide corridor that all of us registered the faint glow that came from a small door. Beyond it was a square chamber, its air murky and stagnant and something lying on the far side of the floor that we couldn't yet make out.

"It looks like a tomb," Frodo murmured and I couldn't help the look of alarm that I gave Gimli.

It was as if in slow motion, the horror that overtook his features, the cry that left his throat and the eyes that widened in despair. He rushed towards the stone, his piercing cries echoing through the chamber.

"Oh... No...oh, no!"

I exchanged a look with Gandalf and after taking in his hand that held his sword my own fingers found their way to the scabbard. Gandalf put a hand on Gimli's shaking shoulders and spoke in a tone that was thick with grief,

"Here lies Balin, Son of Fudin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It's as I had feared."

The company stood still and silent and in those few minutes, Gandalf recited the words of doom from the Book of Mazarbul. With every word he spoke, my spirits sunk even further because it didn't take a genius to know what became of them.

He shut the book, at long last, with a crisp snap and handed it over to Gimli for safe keeping.

Lord Boromir and Aragorn stood side by side, their swords drawn and knuckles strained against their grip.

"Which way shall we go?" asked Boromir.

Gandalf was explaining our course of action when a resounding BOOM erupted from beneath, shaking the mines through their very core. The cries got nearer, the drums louder and it was after a particular shrill scream that Legolas yelled the warning, his arrow already docked on the bow,

"They are coming!"

The doors shook with the strain and the company huddled in a circle. The blades were drawn, the shields arranged. The huge gate bore another piercing blow. The wood splintered and the doors fell amidst debris and deafening bellow. Abruptly, somewhere between the piercing roars and bated breaths, the hall was plunged into infernal chaos.

To be continued...