Short Author's Note: hey to everyone who's actually reading this. as far as the story's going, I'm really not sure yet whether or not to make this a romance. I've been itching to do a Legolas romance ever since Orlando Bloom floored me with his sexiness, but who knows, maybe an Aragorn/OC fic would be better. Depending on reviews... Tell me what ya think!

Chapter Two: Chance Encounter


I left at dawn. Since our home is located at the end of the Weather Hills, on the opposite end of Weathertop, I had three days on horseback before I even reached the end of the mountain range. The journey to the East-West Road itself was uneventful, but I still had two days before I reached Rivendell. Lauxely had warned me not to travel at night, but there was still no telling what I could run into.

I reached the Last Bridge at nightfall on the second day. Unfortunately, there was no place to stop and rest for the night, so I continued on. Not more than an hour later, the terror began.

My horse, Amrûn, was walking at a slow, steady pace when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. "Amrûn," I said, nudging him in the sides with my feet. "Amrûn."

He didn't move. Instead, he knelt forward onto the ground. Since I didn't ride saddleback, there was nothing to keep me on, and I slid over his head and fell to the ground. "Oof!" I exclaimed. I stood up, slightly put out. "Amrûn, that wasn't..."

I trailed off. Amrûn hadn't moved from his place on the ground. He bent his head farther and put his ear to the road--then stood up as suddenly as he'd stopped before. He gave a small whinny, stomped his hooves into the ground a few times, then began nudging me in another direction, as if to say, "Get off the road."

"What in Valar..." I didn't understand his behavior, but sometimes, a horse's instincts are better to trust than your own. I took him by the reins and led him off the road. Amrûn knelt down in the ditch until he was fully sitting down. Black as the night itself, he blended in perfectly. I stood there with my hands on my hips, until Amrûn snorted and whined. I sighed, and knelt down next to him. This was ridiculous.

To my surprise, not more than five minutes later, the sound of multiple hoofbeats could be heard. I estimated that whoever was out riding this late was no more than a mile away. I hunched down lower, leaning into Amrûn, but turning around to crawl up further in the ditch in order to see what was going on.

A moment later, a brilliant white horse thundered over the bridge. Its riders were a tall, beautiful elvish woman and a small, childlike boy. The boy was hunched over, his cloak pulled up around his head. He looked ill.

I watched the elf and the boy as they galloped down the road. Just as they left my sight, Amrun neighed quietly, and I turned...to see nine of the blackest horses and their dark riders running as fast as they could after the white horse. I gasped, and blinked, hoping my eyes were decieving me. These men were the Nazgul!

Amrun whinnied nervously, and I stroked his mane, trying to comfort him. After the nine riders passed, I counted to fifteen, and stood up. Amrûn stood as well, and we both stepped back. "Maybe we should continue off the road for a little while," I whispered. He nuzzled his face into my neck, as if to agree.

We climbed out of the ditch, and began walking alongside the East-West Road. We had traveled about two miles when I heard a twig snap from inside the woods that lined either side of the road. Both Amrûn and I halted, and I drew my sword. I reached into the bag that was attached to the horse's reins, and fumbled until I found a stake. I stood quietly for a moment, and heard that same noise again. "Who's there?" I called out. All was quiet, and I crept silently to the edge of the wood. I held the sword out at arm's length. "Who is there?" I replied. I saw movement from behind a tree, and readied my stake. "Show yourself or recieve a sharp and painful death!"

There was a rustle of movement, and from behind one of the trees emerged...a child? In the dark it was hard to see. His hair was curly, and he was not more than three and a half feet tall. Still, his presence in a dark wood this late at night was curious. "Who are you?" I asked, trying to sound menacing. "Tell me!"

"P-P-Peregrin Took, my lady," he said. "Of-Of-Of the Sh-Sh-Shire."

My eyes widened, and I put away my sword. "You're one of the shirelings! Hobbits, I suppose. Where are your travel companions?"

"I-I-I don't kn-know," he stammered. The poor thing was shaking! I immediately felt sorry for frightening him.

I put my stake away and walked over to the frightened hobbit. I knelt down. "I apologize for scaring you," I told him. "My name is Silly, and I'm on my way to Rivendell. I know about you and who you're traveling with. No doubt they're looking for you right now. Would you like me to help you find them?"

To scared to speak, the little hobbit could only nod. I smiled, stood, and offered my hand. He took it hesitantly, and I gave a low whistle for Amrûn. He trotted over. "Master Took, this is my horse Amrûn. He won't hurt you. He's too stupid."

Amrûn gave an indignant whinny, and I laughed. Peregrin smiled a little, and Amrun knelt down and nuzzled him a little. Amrûn was a very affectionate horse, and took to the little hobbit very quickly. He stood up straight again, and I picked up Peregrin by the waist and lifted him onto his back. "Now, Peregrin...where did you last see your friends?"

"Um...in the woods," he replied, no longer stuttering. "The elf lady came to help Frodo, and then she rode away, and we walked for awhile but then Strider went to find food, and he told us to stay put, and I...didn't."

I was confused with how little sense he made, but despite it, I smiled. He was such a little thing, and even though I knew he wasn't a child, he still seemed like it to me. "With the Nazgul near, Strider will know better than to cry out for you. How were you traveling? By foot or horse?"

"Well, we were on foot, but we had a pony that was carrying our things. His name is Bill."

Amrûn immediately put his nose in the air and began sniffing. Peregrin looked nervous. "Don't worry, Peregrin," I told him, vainly attempting to reassure him. "Amrûn knows now that you are traveling with his kin. If he can smell him, then he can lead us to your friends." Amrûn nodded his entire head in one direction. "Looks like he's picked up a scent." The horse began walking, and I followed alongside.

He seemed to relax a little, and said, "You, uh...You don't have to keep calling me Peregrin. Everyone just calls me Pippin."

"Alright, then, Pippin," I said, smiling. "Silly is just a nickname for me as well. My full name is Celaena the Red, but Silly is just so much more easier for people...Like Pippin is for your friends, I imagine."

"Yes," he said, sounding slightly more cheerful. "And my cousin Meriadoc just goes by Merry. And our friend, Samwise--we just call him Sam." Pippin looked over at me quizzically. "How did you know about us? And Strider, and the Nazgul, and that we were going to Rivendell?"

"Oh! Well, there's this meeting I'm going to in Rivendell about something that one of you hobbits has in his possession," I explained. "As for the Nazgul, I saw them on the road about an hour ago. Amrûn and I hid. There were ten riders in all."

Pippin looked alarmed. "Was one of them an elf lady on a white horse?"

"Well, yes..."

"Then you must have seen Frodo!" he exclaimed. "Frodo was hurt, and Arwen had to take him--"

Slightly confused, I came to the conclusion that it must have been Frodo and Arwen that were being chased. But what was an elf princess doing out alone in such a forboding forest...in the middle of the night? Especially when there were horrid creatures like the Nine roaming around, as well as vampires and orcs and Valar knows what. "Slow down for a second," I told him, placing my hand on his. "Now, tell me, exactly what happened."

Pippin sighed. "We were camping out a few nights ago at Weather Top, and the Nazgul, or Ringwraiths, or whatever they're called, attacked us, and stabbed Frodo. We carried him as far as we could, but he was slipping, and then the elf showed up. She said that she'd take him to her father, and they rode off."

I frowned. His friend Frodo had obviously been stabbed by a weapon of Minas Morgul, and Arwen... "Are you sure that this elf said her name was Arwen?"

"She didn't say, Strider said," he replied.

I stood in thought for a moment, wondering how much Pippin knew...wondering what he should know. "Arwen is Elrond's daughter. He's lord of Rivendell, and an excellent healer. I'm sure your friend Frodo is in good hands. Arwen is also a very fast rider, so she should make it to Rivendell faster than us. Once she gets over the river, they'll be safe, I'm sure."

Pippin was quiet. "Have you met Arwen? She's beautiful."

"Most elves are," I replied. "And I've met Arwen, but I have not seen her in a long time. Fifty years or more, it's been." As soon as I said it, I regretted it. I had come to like Pippin too easily, and trust him as well. Now he'd have questions, and I would have to answer them.

"Fifty!" he said, surprised. "How old are you? And what are you? You don't look like an elf, but you don't look like anyone else I know who's over fifty."

"Well," I began. There really wasn't an easy way to say it. "You're right. I'm not quite elf, but I'm not quite human either. I'm actually more kin to you than I would be to your friend Strider."

"What do you mean?"

"Well..."

"PIPPIN!" we suddenly heard. "PIPPIN!"

Pippin grinned. "That's Strider!" He forgot our conversation, to my relief, and Amrûn began to trot in the direction the shout came from. I ran alongside, not having any trouble keeping up.

We finally saw some figures ahead of us--one man, two more of Pippin's kind, and a small pony. From atop Amrûn, he waved. "Hey, Merry! Sam! I'm over here!"

The three turned to see us, and began running over. I turned, uncomfortable with the situation and not wanting to face Strider. I had never met him before, but some of the grief I had with Arathorn was still with me.

I reached up, held Pippin by the waist, and gently lifted him off Amrûn's back. I stood back while he ran up to meet his friends. Instead of some heartfelt welcome like I expected, the taller hobbit smacked him on the head. "Pippin! How could you run off like that? Strider told us to stay put!"

"I'm...sorry?"

In an instant, I felt pity for him. He hadn't meant to leave his group, I'm sure.

"You could have been lost for good!"

"Yes, but I wasn't," Pippin argued. He gestured towards me. "Silly found me, and she took care of me...Well, first she tried to kill me, but then she talked to me, and she saw Frodo and Arwen and the Ringwraiths, and that she met Arwen fifty years ago and that Elrond was going to take good care of Frodo. Her real name is Celaena the Red and she's going to Rivendell, too...Right, Silly?" He breathed deeply, and the chubbier hobbit smacked him on the back a few times.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. Never trust a hobbit. Never.

I heard someone stepping closer to me, and looked up to see Strider standing over me. The first thing I noticed was that he had his father's eyes. The second thing I noticed was the smell. He certainly smelled like a ranger.

I nervously introduced myself. "I'm Silly," I said, trying to hide the shaking in my voice. "I didn't mean to frighten Pippin, but...one so small should not be traveling in the woods alone in the middle of the night."

Strider looked me up and down, obviously making note of my height. "No, one should not."

I narrowed my eyes, slightly annoyed. "I am more than you think I am."

He leaned closer, threateningly. "What is your business in Rivendell?"

"A council," I retorted, put off. "Elrond requests my attendance."

Strider lifted his eyebrow, amused. "Why would Elrond request the presence of a child in his council, who calls herself 'Silly'?"

I frowned. He was trying to push my buttons in order to identify me. "I am a friend."

"Then why is it I have never heard of you?"

"Because I did not say I was yours," I retorted. "Now, I have returned your friend to you, and I must be on my way. I still have a day's ride to Rivendell, and I don't need a nosy ranger and three little ones to slow me down."

I turned, and began walking away. I mounted Amrûn's back, preparing to ride away, when I heard Strider call, "Hold on, just a minute."

I rolled my eyes, and turned back to him. "Can I help you?"

"My lady, I did not mean to offend you in any way," he began. "These woods are dangerous and I do not think that venturing out into them by yourself is a good idea."

I sighed. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I know that...slayer." The last word he whispered so the hobbits couldn't hear.

Surprised, I leaned back a little. How did he know? What had given away my identity? Or had he known all along? "How...?"

"Because no unarmed, innocent girl is dumb enough to go wandering through the woods in the middle of the night," Strider said. "And you've been clutching that stake since you first arrived here."

I looked down at my hand and blushed. Thankfully it was dark, and he couldn't see the redness on my cheeks. I had been holding it, quite tightly I might add, and hadn't even noticed. "Well, you get used to it after four hundred years or so."

"Well, forgive my previous accusations of you being weak," he said, bowing a little. I could see that glittering serpent ring on his finger that I hadn't seen for nearly a hundred years. His voice broke my thoughts. "I understand you prefer travelling alone, but Master Took has seemingly grown fond of you, and I do believe that your addition to our little...band of travellers would be more positive than anything else."

This was a bad idea. Even though we were headed in the same direction, if I were to go with him, that could possibly delay me another day. And there was no telling what was lurking around in these woods...But then again, if they came upon a vampire, they would not be prepared to fight it.

"Alright," I finally agreed. I slid off Amrûn, who neighed impatiently. I looked at the three hobbits, of them, Pippin grinning like a child, and to their pony. "Help me get two of the hobbits on Amrun, and unload some of the things from your pony. Mine can share the load. Then get the third one on yours. You and I can travel on foot. I refuse to lose any time."

Strider looked amused. "Yes, my lady."

I helped to hoist Pippin and the one called Merry on Amrûn. He didn't seem pleased with the idea of being used as a workhorse, and nipped me on the shoulder more than once. The hobbit Sam rode on back of Bill, and Strider and I walked in between.

The hobbits chattered amongst themselves as we walked on, and Strider and I spoke in low voices.

"What do you know?" he asked quietly.

"I know only what my watcher has told me," I replied. "The One Ring was located in the Shire, in the possession of one of your hobbit friends. You were all on your way to Rivendell when you were camping out on Weathertop and attacked by the Nazgul. Your friend Frodo was stabbed, by a Morgul blade I can only guess. He grew ill, Elrond's daughter came to help, and took Frodo with her."

"Those are most of the details," Strider replied. "Except...I don't think that Pippin mentioned to you that Frodo is the one with the Ring."

I shut my eyes. Valar... "I saw them on the road about two miles before I found Pippin. They were being pursued by the Nine."

"Arwen is a good rider," he said. It seemed, though, that he was reassuring himself more than he was me. "She must have made it over the river in time."

"Hmm." I was temporarily lost in thought, and we walked in silence for a little while longer.

After walking for nearly five miles without saying anything, Strider broke the silence. "I have always wanted to meet you."

I looked up, surprised. "What did you just say?"

"Well...I had always wanted to meet you. I grew up in the House of Elrond, and he told me dozens of stories about slayers, and what they were like. He said...he said you knew my father, Arathorn."

He certainly wasn't subtle. "If you're trying to give me some sort of surprise," I told him, rolling my eyes, "it's not going to work. I knew who you were before I ever laid eyes on you. You're the son of the king, heir to the throne of Gondor. Holder of my fate."

"How..."

Again, this is why I avoid contact with most people outside of the slayer circle. Explanations are always involved. "Yes, I knew your father. He was a good man. His death was tragic. Unfortunately, the one thing I needed from him more than anything, I could never have."

Strider's gaze went soft. "What was that, my lady?"

I swallowed. Swallowed my tears, swallowed my pride. "A home."

He gazed off to the side, understandingly. "Gondor."

"Yes," I said softly. "My watcher, Lauxely, wanted it more than anything in the world...to return home. He's older than dirt, understand. Older than the White City itself. But he loved it there. And I love my watcher as though he were my own father." I inhaled, remembering. "I spent four years trying to convince him to take the throne of Gondor. But he wouldn't have it. He was unbelievably loyal to the Dunedain. So I gave up." I shrugged. "A few years later, he met your mother. I met her once. Lovely woman, not-so-lovely father. I was sorry to hear about her death."

Talking about Arathorn felt strange; I hadn't been able to do so in so long. What was even stranger than talking about him, though, was talking about him with his son. He had soaked up everything I had said, and I left him with his thoughts, not knowing what else to say. He'd suffered loss, and so had I.

"How did he die?" Strider asked suddenly.

I blew out a breath, repeating the lie that everyone had probably told him his entire life. It broke my heart that he couldn't know, but I didn't want to have to be the one to tell him. "Orcs," I replied, sullenly. "He was off riding with Elrond's sons, and they were attacked. One shot him in the eye, and he died later that day."

"That's what the records said," he hissed. "But I want to know the truth. No orc could have killed him."

"How would you know? You were only two."

"I know it's not the truth!"

I turned my head and avoided his gaze. "I'll tell you someday."

And that was that. We didn't speak to each other for the rest of the night.