The Traveler

By Dunyulmaien14

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR…sniff, sniff…;_;

AN: Dunyulmaien has arrived in Rivendell, the conflict between her and Arwen has just begun (I have nothing against Arwen, but the story line is a big part of this fic)

Chapter 2; Of westward winds

"Welcome to Rivendell, Maiden of the West," Lord Elrond said. "The wind brought word of you to my valley and I have, since then, been waiting you presence."

"And now I have arrived," Dunyulmaien said. "You wanted a word, and I have given you several. However, I believe you have a question you needed to ask me, or wanted to."

"It can be held of until tomorrow," Lord Elrond replied. "I suppose you will be coming to the council."

She gave him a knowing look. "What council?" she said innocently.

Of course, she knew all about the council. Twisting the information out of Legolas had been far to easy, in her opinion. And upon hearing of the quest, she knew it was her mission. The Others always told her not to stick her nose in where fate was at hand. Her motto, however, was by letting time run its course, you end up the loser.

She stepped out into the sunlight of the valley.

"Master Legolas," she said. "Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you about the Elf-Dwarf Alliance."

At the word Dwarf Legolas stiffened. He muttered something along the lines of 'Alliance?! Ha!' And stormed into the hall. Of course, there was no alliance, or even any talk of it. Elrond was not asking to talk to Legolas or anyone. Dunyulmaien was getting bored. She needed to pull a few string and fan some flames. Raising tempers and staring fight was her specialty. Of course, she always fixed them in the end, right?

She started of to the lodgings. Behind her she could hear the shouts and she laughed. She let her eyes wander along the path in front of her and noticed halflings a good distance ahead. She ducked into the trees that ran parallel to the path and picked up the pace. She knew little of hobbits and less of the roles they would come to play.

Merry walked down the path with Pippin, admiring the beautiful trees and flowers. He would have loved it there, if it wasn't for the shadow hanging over him. The knowledge that Frodo was lying in a bed in on of the halls, his health slowly crumpling.

Pippins thought were about the same as Merry's, thought he was more engrossed in his surroundings. From somewhere in the forest Pippin could here singing and thought it was in elvish, which he did not understand, he thought it sounded sad. He lifted up his head and saw Gandalf approaching them quickly.

"Gandalf!" Merry shouted, seeing him too. "Gandalf, how is Frodo? Is he better? We are on our way to see him now."

Gandalf bent over the young hobbits. They were genuinely worried for their friend.

"I don't think that would be wise," Gandalf said quietly. "Frodo not as well off as we hoped. Hobbits may have tougher skins but their hearts are softer than those of men and elves. I don't k-"

Gandalf's words were cut short by a sound in the bushes only he could hear. Quick as lightning he took his staff and thrust it into the bushes. A quiet curse was heard and Dunyulmaien came stumbling out of the bush.

"Who are you?" Pippin asked, taking a step towards her, then quickly backing away as if stung.

"Dunyulmaien," she whispered before she could stop herself. She began to back away also. She knew this was a situation she did not want to be in. They knew her name and she had know idea who they were.

Gandalf saw her moving and shouted for her to stop. To her surprise, she found herself doing just that. A voice told her this man was powerful, and could be trouble.

"What do you want?" she asked loudly this time. Her temper was getting the better of her.

"Where did you come from?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet and slow. His eyes twinkled beneath the brim of his hat, giving the impression that he knew the answer to every question he asked.

She felt the lie slip from her mouth and could have kicked herself afterwards. That was another thing that set Dunyulmaien apart from the Others. The Valar never lied, yet she couldn't stop herself. "Snowbourn," she said loudly, before running of toward the lodgings. Merry and Pippin wanted to follow her but Gandalf just directed them toward the hall for supper. It did not take them much convincing to give up on the elf.

Dunyulmaien ducked into the first room she saw. She pressed her pointy ear against the door. No sound. No footstep of breath. Far too quiet for the valley. Where was she? She turned slowly and looked at her surroundings. There was someone lying in the bed. It let out a groan and rolled onto it's side. She approached the bed slowly. There was a boy in it. No, a young man. A halfling. But this one was different. Very different. His pale skin seemed to radiate and was covered with drops of sweat as he grimaced. He rolled over and was facing her as she looked at him. His curly brown hair stuck to his forehead and hung around his well defined cheek bones.

"He's sick," she whispered quietly to herself. She watched as he struggled in his nightmares. He looked like a child. So innocent and kind, thrown unwillingly into darkness. 'It's so sad,' she thought. 'His pain is just beginning, and it's sad.' She brushed her hand through his hair and said something quietly. Slowly Frodo woke with a start, his eyes full of tears for the visions that haunted him. He looked around the room. He was alone.

End chapter 2.

Special thanks to Arianna Greenleaf, the one person who reviewed. Let's see if we can beat that this time, ne?

In the next chapter I'm thinking it might b the council of Elrond, but I'm not sure