Back again… No too much to say before this one…
***
When she woke up, she felt refreshed, but her arm ached. She washed it in the Anduin's icy waters, and cleaned the bloody cloth too. It stung a little when she bound it again, but it was nothing she couldn't bear: she hoped, however, that she could merely use her daggers in any battle that was still to come. She wasn't sure if trying to wield the heavy Celebdîn wouldn't hinder her more than help her. She ate a frugal meal of lembas and water, watched Brialvastor chew on some grass, and after she was ready watched the Fellowship prepare. They were considerably slower than herself. She also looked ahead, down the river, and shivered at the thought of the barren wastes before her. She didn't like to think of how she would hide there.
'I'm glad you're not white, Brialvastor!' She chuckled quietly – a white horse among brown boulders would stand out like a sore thumb. The horse whinnied and flared his nostrils, indignant and glad at the same time that the very reason she liked him most was the reason the a good percentage of Elves liked him least. 'Odd animal,' she mused lovingly, and scuffed a stone with her shoe. It skittered down to the waterside, and then fell in with a soft plop.
On the other side, Legolas looked up instantly, staring at the other side of the river, a bit behind them. His sharp eyes caught the movement of the girl as she slipped back into the shadows, drawing her stead after her.
'Legolas? Legolas, help Pippin get that boat in the water,' Aragorn called to him. 'It would help if you kicked out the fire on your way, too.'
Legolas looked at the ranger, and nodded. He kept his eyes on the girl while he followed the future King's bidding. He found Pippin struggling to launch the boat, and kindly lent his weight to the cause. The slim elven vessel slid smoothly into the water.
'My thanks,' said the lively hobbit, and jumped in, making the boat rock violently. Laughing a little, the elf grabbed the edge of the boat and calmed it. Hobbits never ceased to amuse him. 'Take care there, halfling,' he chuckled. 'I do not recall that swimming was hobbits' favourite activity.'
'You're right there, elf,' agreed Pippin with a queasy look at the flowing liquid about him. 'But then, I'm getting used to many new things on this journey.' He was ever-optimistic, and smiled brightly.
Legolas couldn't help but have his mood be cheered by this.
'Then we go on, brave wandering hobbit!' He cried, and leaped into his own canoe.
For the next few days, they saw nothing of Mithmír – or at least, Legolas did not. The others still knew not that she followed them. He became worried for the fiery maiden, even more so after the Orc attack by the Sarn Gebir rapids. He knew that there was little or no water apart from the Anduin in these regions, and he doubted she would have carried enough water with her to last many days of travelling. When they reached the Gates of Argonath, he gave up all but the tiniest flame of hope. While the paddled into Nen Hithoel, he sang a quiet song for the protection and deliverance of travellers; both in Arda and into the after life of Men. Aragorn was the only one to understand it, and he assumed, incorrectly, it was sung for the Fellowship's benefit.
Legolas still didn't correct him, and oddly enough the guilt he had felt before was gone: he knew he had made the right decision in not telling the man.
They slept that night by Parth Galen, and the rest, as they say, is History, as told by the wisest of Men and Elves.
She followed them, Sam and Frodo, from Nen Hithoel. Her heart was screaming from the death of Boromir, but her face was stern. She said "good bye" to the ever-faithful Brialvastor above the Emyn Muil; as she could not hope to descend them with a horse to lead. She left the stallion by Amon Lhaw, and told him to run free and wild, but to come to her call if she ever needed him again. Then she kissed the brown of his forehead, said an Elven blessing for him, and departed.
Till the end of February she followed Sam and Frodo without flaw in her plans. They never knew she was there, and she never assisted them. Gollum was the only grave mistake; he having come to them from the other direction, and in the scuffle she could never tell the difference between the hobbits and the foul creature, so she never dared fire an arrow. She trusted they had him under control later, and also some strange feeling stayed her from killing the beast. Later she accredited it to the Valar, for surely they had been merciful and guiding.
She disliked travelling by foot even at the best of times, and over the Nindalf marshes was her idea of life at its very worst – though how wrong she would later realise she had been! She followed a long way behind Gollum, Sam and Frodo; trying to keep in sight of them while being far enough back so that they could not see her. The elven cloaks from Lothlorien did not make her task any easier. When she emerged from the stinking mud later that day, she was coated in filth and slime; and her skin was dotted with red marks that were insect bites. She renamed the place so many names in her mind; none of them pleasant, but all truthful. When she felt a little better she moved on, making sure she travelled a little south of the hobbits and the "creature", as she had taken to calling him in her mind. She caught up with them a little too; her long legs still a major advantage. Her fresh food ran out on what she counted as the fourth of March.
