Sorry if it took awhile to update, school's been brutal. I Won't keep you waiting

Jackie stared at the long since out of view form of the last homely house. The music and laughter had slowly faded away, it's cheerful echo still carrying in the wind. The summer feeling, the greenleaves creating canopies for those below, the fresh flowers and comfortable sunlight had faded with the laughter. The fresh green of the leaves had turned to glistening reds and oranges. Canopies of shade had slowly begun to let more and more golden sunlight into its cool caresses. The air of fresh clean summer turned into one of crisp fall, beautiful in it's own right but less open and more enclosed, as if hiding secrets of the path ahead. Even the wind had acquired a cold bite that hadn't been there before.

She turned her back on the invisible form of Rivendell and instead focused on the path ahead of her. Gandalf was marching along swiftly at the front, setting a pace that she doubted the hobbits would be able to keep for long. Already the little things looked out of breath, their packs towering over them like a cruel mistress. Following Gandalf was a now sober ranger, who was talking quietly with a certain Mirkwood Prince. Boromir came behind them, taking but not looking at all impressed by the wonder and beauty around him. The four hobbits came after him and Gimli marched silently beside her, bringing up the rear of the company.

They each wore traveling clothes, aside from Gandalf who wore his usual grey robes. Legolas, in the same outfit he used to wear in Mirkwood, she cut that thought off there, bow, arrows and a couple of daggers hanging from his complex belt. Aragorn, in charcoal black riding leathers and beige traveling tunic with a simple brown sword belt, his sword hanging there. He looked more at ease than she had ever seen him. Boromir wore similar pants, though you would not be able to tell, he wore a chainmail shirt with a wine red tunic and chocolate brown gambeson overtop. On top of that he had a leather surcoat and the cloak that had been given to each member of their fellowship upon departure. Gimli looked like he was about to walk onto a battlefield and the hobbits wore what they did any other day, all soft browns and tans.

She herself wore some of the clothing Arwen had gifted her, the rest of it folded neatly into her packs. Tortilla brown leggings made of a soft but sturdy fabric and a pastel olive green tunic. Her normal leather brown wrist cuffs were hiding beneath the long sleeves of her tunic. But a vest alabaster white made of a sturdy, strong, beautiful fabric wrested atop it rather nicely, tied together with a cedar brown strip of denim down the front. She had abandoned the ridiculous undergarments meant to cover her breasts given by lady Arwen, they were for those who had no need for support, who had not seen battle. Instead she wrapped her usual tan wrap around her breasts. Although she had no doubt that they found their way into her packs. The coin grey cloak she had been given wrested on her shoulders gently. Her soft brown, elven leather, thigh high boots covered her feet snugly providing support, the signs of wear on them evident after all the years she owned them. She had let Lady Arwen do her hair that morning. Sitting in front of the elven vanity well Arwen chatted away gaily. In the end she had to intervene when Arwen attempted to put her silver locks into a twisting crown at the top of her head. Insisting instead to have it tied back into a ponytail. Arwen had compiled, however put out she seemed about it. Although she did let the Lady choose what to tie her hair back with.

The unique bow and arrows she owned lay on her shoulders, quiver full with each and every arrow she could stuff into it. Many, many, many arrows were still in her home at Fangorn. Bringing every single arrow ever gifted to her was impossible. So she chose her favorites, each made by expert dwarves, her bow made the same way, along with her quiver. They all held intricate designs that only a dwarven hand could create and make last over centuries as hers had. She had yet to show any of the company aside from Gimli the weapons, wanting to avoid questions. She was not going to keep her heritage a secret this time. Not again. If they asked she would tell them, but that did not mean she would jump at every opportunity to explain that she had been raised by dwarves, that her weapons were gifts and she was no more an elf at heart than Gimli was. Gimli had known exactly who she was, the first thing he asked her was if he could see her weapons, she complied, it was no secret how 'legendary' her weapons were among dwarves, not just those of the lonely mountain.

"My L-" Snapping out of her thought she glared at the Gondorian who had appeared beside her.

"Do not finnish that sentence. Try it again, from the top."

Boromir just grinned. "Dornessiti."

"Better." She said, grinning in return. Before picking up her pace, moving past the hobbits and Gimli.

"Would you slow down, these packs are rather heavy you know." He jested, waving a hand at one of the many on his back.

"Oh you poor Gondorian baby.' She cooed, but slowed down all the same. He was only human after all.

He scowled at her, the effect ruined by the snort that followed. "We never did get around to that sparring match did we."

She laughed. "When we stop." Pausing for a second she added, "boy."

Boromir bristled and he could have sworn a certain Prince snorted mid conversation with Aragorn. "Boy?" He questioned.

"I was alive before your great-great-great-great grandfather was even growing within his mothers womb."

Gimli snorted loudly, earning a glare from Boromir who was looking at her. "I have a theory." He started not taking his eyes off her. Gaze suddenly becoming intense.

"Oh?"

"That you have your heart under lock and key because you're scared to let anyone in. So you use harsh words and a gruff attitude to keep people clear."

She was silent, mulling over his words. "That would be a smart theory Lord Boromir."

"Oh I'm not done yet. I think that when someone finally gets through those iron doors to your heart in reality it will be warm and kind. And you would go through hell and back to protect that person, to protect anyone you care for, even sell your soul to Saron himself to keep those precious few that hold your heart safe. So you protect yourself from the pain of betrayal and loss by hiding behind those iron walls." He finished, still staring at her.

She just kept walking, not letting her steps falter for even a second. She replied quietly, but by no means weakly; "It appears I miss judged you, Boromir of Gondor. For a warrior you are… different. I always heard your brother was the attentive one."

The Gondorian grinned broadly once more, the intensity slowly fading from his eyes.

"I believe that you are not as gruff as you wish others to see either." And with that she let out a burst of speed, winding up beside Aragorn.

They walked in silence for a moment staring at each other before Aragorn asked; "What was that about Dornessiti?"

Of course he wouldn't have heard, she was much too used to elven hearing. Legolas had moved back to the Hobbits to at least give the appearance of privacy. "Sober I see, a far cry from the last I saw or heard of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He brushed off the accusation and continued to look at her expectantly. Much like a brother would regard his sister if something important happened to her.

"Boromir was just… sharing some theories, that's all."

"Oh."

An awkward silence reigned, the ranger still looking at her intently, as seeing into her very soul. Gandalf kept walking forward and the silence kept getting thicker,she was about to break it when Pippin collapsed on his feet.

"Pippin!" Both Aragorn and Jackie yelled, drawing the attention of the rest of the fellowship. Jackie ran to the side of the fallen hobbit, relieved to see that nothing major appeared to be wrong with the innocent thing.

"Gandalf we need to stop now. The hobbits are not used to this exertion! Look at them!" As if on cue the remaining hobbits fell to the ground, their chests heaving, little faces flushed a brilliant shade of red, clothing soaked with sweat.

Gandalf surveyed the exhausted hobbits where they lay on the ground and sighed heavily. "I suppose it can't be helped. We stop here for the night. Sam- no you can't- Aragorn, get a fire started up. If anyone of this company who is not dead on their feet and can cook a half decent meal that would be greatly appreciated."

"I can cook us supper, though it will be no where close to that of Sam." She smiled warmly at the hobbit who's smile in return looked more like a grimace.

The fire was warm and crackling as Jackie returned from the ice-cold stream shivering. After the day's march, getting the fire started and hunting down the stag that was now sizzling over the burning fire she had been sweaty, hot and covered in blood. The nearby stream was pure bliss, although she made sure that none of the men in the company knew what she was doing. Aside from Sam who she had asked to watch the fire and keep the food from burning while she bathed. The water had been refreshingly cool on her hot and clammy skin. She had stayed in that secluded stream for a couple hours at least, by the time she made her way back to camp -completely refreshed and relaxed- the sun had set beyond far off mountains and the shining, white moon taking its place. Silver stars aiding the powder white moonlight in making the forest look like a thing of stories.

Needless to say when she finally made it back, clothed in nothing but the blanket she had the foresight to grab on her way to the stream, she had hoped to avoid the obvious questions that would come up. She almost got away with sneaking around the feasting men until she passed -silent and wraith- behind Legolas.

"Care to tell us where you were?" The cool indifference in his tone made her bristle. As all the eyes in their small camp snapped to her she became distinctly aware of the fact she was clothed in a bedsheet. She pulled the edges of the sheet over her wrists and higher up her neck, hiding the scars there from prying elven eyes. Boromir's eyes roved over her hidden figure and she resisted the urge to gag. She could have sworn the Prince of Mirkwood tensed before her. Gimli had taken one look at her appearance and was now shaking like mad in an obvious attempt to contain laughter.

"Do I answer to you?" Was she being hostile for no reason? Yes, yes she was.

"You are part of this fellowship." Boromir cut in. "Your… safety is our concern." He made no effort to hide the fact he was drinking in her appearance.

"You know I can protect myself full well."

"Do I? You don't look it"

"Yes well. It's not my fault you're such a short sighted donkey. I believe you're just scared that someone with finer skin and a better ass could knock you on yours without breaking a sweat." She smirked as the pure male expression on the Gondorians face vanished. "Now if you can excuse me I am going to get changed and towel off my hair from the bath I just took in the nearby stream as I made an effort not to smell like Orch Crap (Elvish: Orc Crap)."

Legolas snorted at that and Gimli lost his control completely, howling like a dog as Boromir's face flushed. She sashayed away, copying the elven ladies she had once seen walking around Mirkwood long ago, a different lifetime ago.

Someone had set up her tent in her absence, all her packs resetting on a mat in the center of the small area. Sitting down and letting the sheet slide of her body she let out a breath she did not notice she was holding in. She opened up the nearest pack and leafed through the things inside. Pulling out ballet slipper pink long sleeved tunic of warm wool and yanking it over her head she sighed at the warmth. Then she fished out sugar cookie tan cotton pants and yanked them on. She left her hair alone, in truth she didn't even take it out of it's ponytail, she had showered two days ago, the day they left Rivendell and her hair was fine and clean. Lady Arwen had done her job well.

Walking back to the campfire she came up silently behind a unaware Boromir and whispered into his ear; "sorry." The big man toppled over in surprise.

"Apology accepted." He said gruffly, brushing off dust and dirt from his already disgusting clothes.

With that supper continued as usual.

Jackie sat and stared at the stars. The rest of the company had long since retired to their respective tents but for some reason her body refused to sleep. The last time she had some shut eye was back in Rivendell, for the last two days she had not slept a wink, instead offering to take over watch duty. Elves could go longer than any human could without proper sleep but she feared that bad things were to come and she needed to be in tip top shape if she was going to protect Frodo, protect everyone.

Legolas had taken watch that night. He had taken the position before Dornessiti could volunteer again. She had not slept at all in their journey so far. It unsettled him more than he cared to admit. They had not spoken since Rivendell aside from brief stints where it was a necessity and still he could not get her out of his head.

When she had entered the camp he called her out, hearing her sneaking by him. It did not occur to him that she may be clothed in nothing but a fucking sheet. And that was all she had been wearing. When the Gondorian began to look so freely upon her body he wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out, he didn't know what angered him more; his reaction or the man that provoked it. He had to admit she had looked… fetching in those moments. Cautious and -dare he think it- somewhat bashful, like a doe cornered by a predator. He had tried to keep his head turned from her, to keep the fact that he found her body just a little bit interesting, that he wanted to drag her from the little clearing, away from the eyes of the stupid Gondorian -who had the ignorance to accept her apology for well deserved insults and didn't offer one in return- and have his way with her by the stream she just returned from. He had not failed to notice the way her silver hair shone in the moonlight either, or how she took extra care to cover her neck, midsection and wrists from view. It was too dark for any of the company aside from himself to have seen anything too which meant she was covering herself up from him especially. It intrigued him, the strange little elleth from an ancient forest with the most spirited attitude he had ever seen.

Who refused to sleep.

He could sense her presence. Awake. Watch full. But not at him or even the trees around them but at the shining stars above. Turning his head slightly he watched Dornessiti from his position on a mossy rock on the outskirts of their camp, close to the smoldering fire. The night truly is her element. He mused. Her hair looks like liquid starlight, her lightly tanned buttermilk coloured skin seeming to shine under the ivory light of the moon. I fallen star in human form. He turned his head, shaking his thoughts of her out of his head. He had known and taken many females. Dornessiti was no different. Oh but she is, she doesn't fawn over you, or bat her eyelashes at pretty young lords. And her secrets, oh her precious little secrets… An unwanted part of his brain whispered.

He was so consumed in his mental conundrum that he almost didn't notice when Dornessiti rose and made her way through the camp. Almost. She entered her tent and emerged minutes later with her roll under her arm. Laying it under the stars she closed her eyes in a piss poor attempt to sleep. If she refuses to sleep you might as well keep her company. The unwanted voice whispered.

"I know you're awake." He called softly.

Dornessiti bolted upright and stared at him. Glanced at her roll and then made her way to him, sitting down on the rock beside him. Her already pale pink shirt looked even more pastel then it had by the fire, her light brown pants barely changing tone. "Hey."

He stared at her, questioningly intently, pushing her slightly to look at him with those bewitching grey eyes and tell him. What, he didn't care. Just something that made up her. Something personal, something secret. She seemed to get the hint.

"You heard the conversation between Boromir and myself? His theories."

Ah yes. He had listened in on that conversation shamelessly. She knew full well about the advanced hearing of elves. She better not expect to have private conversations. "Yes." Was his only reply.

"Ho's foeir cin know. Im a- thossui. (Elvish: He's right you know. I am scared.)" She murmured in a voice much too quiet for her. He hated it. "Thossui na let pen mi. (Scared to let anybody in.)" She was silent for a few moments before smiling weakly. "Cin don't anír- na hear nia hi, im'll just glenn-. (You don't want to hear about this, I'll just go.)

She began to rise, as she turned he reached out and grabbed her hand, refusing to let her go just yet. "Al- (No.)" He purred, smirking at her as he pulled her into his chest. One of her hands is wedged in between his chest and hers, the other splayed on the mossy rock they were sitting on. He smirked at a ruby red rose weaved elegantly into her ponytail, helping the ribbon keep her thick hair in place. "Nin qwir. (My rose.)" He purred again, plucking it from her hair, disappointed when the rest of her silver locks didn't fall. He smirked even wider as she began to attempt shifting from his grasp, mumbling.

"Im knew im shouldn't gar- let Arwen ceri- nin fin. (I knew I shouldn't have let Arwen do my hair)." She was struggling even harder against his firm grip. He smirked even more. "Wipe i smirk dŷr cín níf cóon. (Wipe that smirk off your face.)" Dornessiti growled, managing to get out of his embrace and stand a few feet away.

"-o iór, nin híril (Of course, my lady)" He hummed, smirk being replaced by a grin he knew was no less infuriating and usually made men -and women- throw the first punch.

"Jeg hathorth tho, farurm smaek att orstr. (Dwarvish: I hate you, go kiss an orc." He stared at her, trying to comprehend the language that had just spilled from her mouth, he could have sworn that the dwarf of the company snorted in his sleep. He did not fail to recognize the tone that screamed insult however.

Standing up and crossing the small gap between them quickly he scooped her up. He couldn't help it. He received a painful blow to the stomach that would have knocked down any grown man and chuckled, which only served to anger her more. "Shhhhhh Dornessiti, lûr. (Shhhh Dornessiti, sleep.)"

He sat down on the rock, laying the tired elf down beside him, shifting her so she was using her legs as a pillow. "I still" she yawned. "I still… I hate you…. Actually…. You're not… that bad…. I don't want it…. To…. be…. Like last" Yawn. "time… I don't hate… you…. Just…. Just…." She mumbled, her eyes fluttering closed, hiding the misty grey orbs from his sight. "Just"

"I know, sleep Dornessiti." He purred, stroking her silver locks of hair, leaving it in it's ponytail.

She was asleep before he even finished talking

I know it's not that eventful but I think it was okay, it gave me time to sort out the characters. How I want them to act, like if I wanted Legolas to have a cocky playboy attitude of soft hearted lover boy attitude. You can guess which one I picked.

I'll update when I can. PLEASE comment, it means so much to me. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms