NOTE: Okay, the title is changed. grandimagination, I wanted to say thanks so much for all the support. If it weren't for all your support, I probably wouldn't have kept on going with the story. Thanks so much!!! I hope you like this one, and I hope you didn't have trouble finding the story with the different title and all. Please review!!! SUBNOTE: Anything in single quotation marks are words Maethoriel is mouthing, which means she isn't actually speaking she's just forming the words with her lips. I.E: 'Hello'

I WILL FIND MY WAY: 13

Maethoriel had been wandering for hours. Her lips were cracked and dry, and her stomach ached for food. Her eyes began to droop with fatigue, and she could feel the small blade she had hidden under her cloak press gently to her thigh. It was her only protection, her only means to survive. If she wanted, she could have stopped to try and hunt herself some food, but she knew she hadn't much time. The moon was shining through the night, and the second day was approaching. She thought the hardest part of her task would be to convince someone to follow her, but what she found to be even more challenging was trying to find another being anywhere. In her mind, she meant to head in the direction of Forodwaith, but her exhaustion proved to be more dangerous than she thought, for instead she headed to the direction of Mount Gundabad, the northern orc capital.

At the base of the mountain, camps were set up, but only few. Maethoriel made her way towards these camps, not thinking clearly and upon seeing the fires and signs of life she hadn't really thought about where she truly was. She stumbled along the paths that were formed in between each tents, as orcs stared at her like she was crazy. Here was this young maiden; casually walking through this orc infested camp, as if it meant nothing. One by one the orcs stood from where they were and followed the girl, holding back their want to taunt her, thinking she may be of some importance, relaying a message of some kind. Maethoriel hadn't noticed the orc crowd following her, and stopped in front of a group of some five orcs sitting around a small fire, a young man gagged and tied up sitting amongst them. Maethoriel didn't detect the young man before, and what drew her to this particular group, she hadn't really known. The orcs looked up at her from where they were seated, questioning her with looks. The young man, who was working his way through his restraints with a small piece of blade, stopped also to notice Maethoriel, his eyes wide and completely filled to the brim with shock. Before the orcs could even speak one word of question or even odium to the girl, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she fell to the ground, passed out. The crowd behind her stared at the girl for a second then wailed their voices as they saw this as an opportunity to provide themselves with the food they had lacked for days. Before they could even scrape her skin however, the boy who had been captured only hours before, who had been gagged and tied and dragged to the camp, separated from his companions, completely freed himself, grabbed a full blade and came to the girl's rescue. He made his way through the crowd, who were unarmed for the moment, swept the girl in his arms, and ran as fast as he could, heading west along the Mountains.

Erurg, who had been following Ewan and Amdiriel for some yards, now, was growing more and more thirsty for their blood to be stained on his hands, each stride he took, drawing closer to them. Ewan and Amdiriel, who were now running as fast as their legs could carry them, were heading for Lothlórien, though they knew the Uruk was almost at their heels. Unexpectedly Amdiriel tripped, Ewan still attached to her by hand, which caused the boy to halt. Amdiriel got up as quickly as she could, but her knee had been cut by the fall, and it pained her to run, even to jog lightly; any movement that caused her to bend her knee. She pushed herself as much as she could, but she was clearly slowing down. She paused for a moment, lifting her dress to reveal her knee bleeding profusely, the blood pouring down her leg. Ewan, who was already panting, sighed heavily. He picked up Amdiriel and carried her, but this made no sense at all for he could not even jog, let alone run to be safe. He heard the grand stomps of the Uruk approaching, but he kept moving forward, as Amdiriel cried out in pain, for her leg was dangling and her knee bending though she tried to keep it straight. Erurg had seen this happen, and took advantage, accelerating his speed, until he finally reached the two.

With one fluid motion of his blade, he struck Ewan's back, causing Ewan to cry out in sheer pain, the blood immediately bleeding through his shirt. He fell to the ground, as did Amdiriel, who at once felt to her knee. She faced down on the ground, and didn't move, for she sensed herself too weak. Ewan, however, swiftly turned and got up, sword in hand, countering Erurg's next blow. The two blades were set against each other, as Erurg smiled at the boy, who was sweating and shaking from pain. Erurg took advantage of his strength, and flung the boy some feet away from him. The Uruk then made his way towards the girl, who now turned around slowly and looked up to the grand orc, fear in her eyes. But Ewan persisted, and held up his sword to attack the Uruk. They were now engaged in a vigorous sword fight, the clanging of metal being heard every second with every shuffle made. But Ewan was too weak, and at one vulnerable moment Erurg clout the boy across the face, sending him to the ground, causing him dizziness. Ewan stayed on the ground, his head feeling heavy, as Erurg hovered above him, readying himself to thrust his sword into Ewan's body. He let out a roar, and thrust downward, but before the tip of the sword even touched the cloth of Ewan's shirt, the Uruk's decapitated head fell to the floor, the body following soon after. Ewan rolled over to look to the man who saved him, and saw Eldarion standing before him, sword to his side, sweating and gasping for air.

The next morning, Maethoriel woke up to find herself on the ground. She quickly came to her senses and stood immediately to look around her. All she saw was a small fire, and to her feet a cloak that had kept her warm during the night. She heard footsteps approaching, and pulled out the blade she had hidden, holding it up in defense, only to drop her arm almost instantly when the person was revealed. "It is Anárion," she thought to herself, looking at him with surprise as he laid before her a deer he had hunted.

"You are awake; for a moment I was unsure whether you would. It is obvious you are hungry. Give me a few moments and I'll have this cooking on the fire," he said to her, as he began to cut up meat for food. Maethoriel knelt to him as he was seated on the ground, and shook his arm to get his attention. He stopped and looked at her questioningly. "What is it?" Maethoriel hadn't known how to express her words, and attempted to mouth to him what she wanted to say.

'Follow me to the Northern Waste. We must save Aeronel."

"To where?" he asked her, understanding everything before Northern Waste.

'Northern Waste' Anárion only gave her a confused look. She shook her head, and tried again, something simpler. 'Follow me, Now, there is no time,' this time she tried movements along with her silent words.

"But where, Maethoriel?" Maethoriel shook her head, 'It does not matter. Just trust me.' Anárion looked away for a moment, then looked to Maethoriel. "You don't want to eat first? You must be starving." Maethoriel shook her head, pulling his arm up as she stood signaling they needed to leave at that moment. Anárion complied, and gathered his sword as he began to follow Maethoriel, but suddenly stopped as she did before him. She looked to Anárion and held on to his arms, looking into his eyes.

'Where are we??' Anárion understood her, for she mouthed the words in syllables. "Around Weather Hills. Look, over there a few miles away, Amon Sul," Anárion replied, pointing in the direction of the watchtower as he did so. Maethoriel gasped, in her mind, for they were quite a trek away from Ainik's fort, and she hadn't known how long it would take to get back, for the morning was becoming the day. 'Hurry Anárion!' was all she mouthed, and ran as quickly as she could North back to the Northern Waste, Anárion keeping closely behind her.

MIRKWOOD
Arodiel felt a sharp pain in her forehead, and put pressure to her temple to try and ease the pain. She slowly sat up, opening her eyes, looking around her curious as to where she was. She lay on a cot, yet again, under the grand site of intertwining branches of trees. The trees' barks looked golden in color, and were clearly a site she had never seen before. The trees were thick and smooth, curving naturally, the leaves creating a shade, almost like a roof high above to cover her head. She marveled at the site. After a few moments, she remembered what had brought her to this unknown place, and got up from the bed to explore where she was, searching for Nestor who had been with her moments before she blacked out. What was first in her mind, however, was searching for Laurelas. She made her way through the paths in which the trees grew around, naturally forming what could have easily passed as halls. She searched frantically for any other soul, and finally saw a slender man who had been strolling through, it seemed.

"Pardon me," she said, as she caught the man's arm, only to realize he was no man, but an elf. For a moment she was speechless, but snapped out of her trance and spoke again, as the elf's eye brows simultaneously rose as if in question. "Can you tell me where I am?" The elf didn't answer, only motioned for the girl to follow him, as she did. He led her to a small cave, it seemed, and inside it revealed a few more elves, some standing watch to the elf seated in a majestic wooden chair at the end of the structure, sitting grandly as if waiting for her. She was motioned to come closer, as she walked forward to meet the elf. Arodiel hadn't known if he was royalty or not, but bowed her head in respect to greet him.

"Arodiel, daughter of Faramir?" he said simply.

"Yes, it is I. How did you know my Lord?"

"Your friend, Nestor daughter of King Elessar told me. Welcome to Eryn Lasgalen, Arodiel. I am Thranduil, son of Oropher."

"Eryn Lasgalen? But how did we get here?"

"You were found along the shores of the Anduin. You were very lucky we found you all, for you were stranded so far from here."

Arodiel didn't wish to question how they were found, only to question who of her companions were found. "Only Nestor and I were retrieved?"

"No, we found a young man as well; almost to the point of death when he was rescued, his shoulder bleeding uncontrollably. That is how we stumbled upon the three of you, the trail of blood that was clear within the river."

"Is he well? I mean, when you say almost to the point of death, you mean he is not dead?"

"Yes, that is what I mean. He was healed, by Nestor. Her work incredible for one who is so young." Arodiel sighed with relief.

"Can I go see them? Is he awake?"

"He is not awake, for the wound is deep and time can only tell if he is to open his eyes, but you may go see him." Thranduil signaled for one of the elves along his side to lead the girl to Laurelas, as Arodiel anticipated seeing him, for his face would bring her comfort. Comfort was something she hadn't felt in days, something she yearned for. She did not know what else mayhem her heart could handle, but she knew this not yet to be the end of her and her kin's journey.

TBC... Hope it wasn't confusing, if it was then tell me in a review and I will give out details to sort it all out. Please review!!!