A/N: This is me, Sangrita! First I was very busy with Madama Butterfly (we just opened on March 13!) and then my Internet decided not to work, but now I have time to write and I am back with a vengeance! And, just to let you all know how much I love you: I'm *supposed* to be vocalising right now, but I'm putting it off.

You probably don't want to have to actually READ through all this crap I'm writing now (Where's the story she promised?! I wamt her BLOOD!"), so, without further ado...

CHAPTER SEVEN.

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I could not believe I was actually learning to shoot an arrow properly, and actually succeeding! This alone HAD to mean that there were strange forces at work, because I spectacularly failed high school PE (except for swimming and dance), and can list for you, right now, five of the most strenusous things I have ever done:

1. Ballet

2. Belly-dance.

3. Swim team (quit when I realized my shoulders and thighs  would get too broad if I kept it up: I already think there's been irreparable damage).

4. Any and all dance auditions for musicals

5. Learning how to walk/kneel/get back off the ground in kimono (It's harder than it sounds, especially that last part. ESPECIALLY after your costumer has practically tied your knees together with your koshimaki and underrobe).

Nothing to do with shooting arrows had ever come close to me, except for the one time I watched some archers at RenFaire. The extent of my ability in that department was occasionally throwing a football or frisbee for a child, and now I was shooting arrows that actually flew more or less where they were supposed to go!

Okay, there were some close calls, and I can't pretend I hit a bull's-eye everytime (well, I can, but I won't. The Mary-Sues guild would be begging me to be president), but it was really kind of uplifting. And Jesse...I was so proud of her. Not only could she lift the sword, but she could swing it! Not always skillfully enough, but we were making progress.

Unsure of how to thank Legolas for his help, I put my hands together and bowed in the Japanese fashion. The Elves reminded me so much of Shintoists that I figured the gesture would be appreciated.

"I owe you one, Legolas," I told him gratefully. "If you ever need a favor, let me know."

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NEVER tell a prince you owe him a favor. I ended up polishing and restringing his bow, gathering materials for new arrows, mending a tear in his tunic, buffing his boots, writing a letter of grievance to someone in Lothlorien as he dictated it, and doing some minor psychological tweaking.

"Is this worth learning to shoot an arrow for?" I grumbled to Jesse, as Legolas told me some more about his childhood. I understood that being fourth in line for the throne out of four immortal sons of one immortal king could be frustrating and make one feel rather worthless in the long run, but this was getting a bit out of hand, considering that if he was around 2931, as all the fangirls claimed, I had 2920 years of his life left to listen to. "My ears are falling off! I'm going to make him cut his off and give them to me as my workman's comp."

"That's enough, Legolas," Jesse told him firmly. "She'll be here all day if you keep up with that. Besides, Sam made food for us."

Yes, Sam had definitely made food: "tomatoes, sausages and nice crispy bacon", all of it a very difficult diet for a vegetarian like myself. Man (and diva) cannot live by tomatoes alone, and even if I could, I wouldn't want to try. For the next half-hour, I became very well acquainted with the Middle Earth topsoil as I scrounged around for mushrooms, and then remembered I couldn't eat the mushrooms because I would probably poison myself and die. Tomatoes it was.

"Do you think that they're vegetarians in Lothlorien?" I mused to Aragorn. "Because if they're not, I'm going to have a serious problem staying ali---"

"You know, child, you could just eat what you've been given," he suggested, looking a little bemused by the fact that I was only eating three tomatoes while everyone else got a full meal, the lucky bastards.

"She won't touch meat," Jesse said cheerfully, waving a sausage in my face. "I don't see why you're trying to get her to. More for us!"

"Why are we best friends again?" I teased in a sulky tone, rolling my eyes.

"Because you love meeeeee."

"I do not."

"Yes you do," she insisted, batting her eyelashes and moving closer to the seriously uncomfortable rock I was sitting on.

"Fine! I love you, but I have no idea why."

Satsified, she picked up her sword again, begging Boromir to instruct her and the troublesome Merry/Pip duo further in the time-honored art of swordplay. Actually, she probably just wanted to tackle him to the ground, but who am I to judge? I would do the same in a heartbeat.

Just maybe, I thought, this saving Middle Earth gig wouldn't be so bad, aside from the fact that I had never been in a huge world war before and wouldn't even get credit in the novels. When you're me, though, a good thing is often interrupted by something out of the blue and, in this case, oddly disturbing.

None of us, except for Legolas (which goes without saying, obviously: even fangirls who drop into Middle Earth for a spot o' tea, or tomato, as the case may be, have not got and never will have Elven eyesight) had time to register the bizarre black cloud coming upon us, until it really WAS right on top of us, and our esteemed Seeing Eye Elf chose that moment to declare the presence of Crebain from Dunland, and that it might be a good idea to hide.

Jesse was shepherded by Boromir into a cozy hiding place, occupied by herself, himself and a couple of the more troublesome Hobbits. Interesting that Boromir feels obligated to look out for "the little ones", because she's two inches taller than I am, and I ended up making myself as small as possible and hiding behind Gimli. He, after all, had the big axe. Strangely enough, though, the blackbird invasion (I suspect Paul McCartney had something to do with this little turn of events) was over almost as soon as it had begun, or that was what we thought.

Have you ever heard someone say "If I knew then what I know now..."?

Yeah. It's like that. Two random girls coming into Middle Earth do, after all, seriously disturb things. Naturally, Saruman, who delights in further disturbing the already seriously disturbed, would take an interest. Thus, Jesse and I would later discover that a crebain "spy" in each of our traveling packs would be the source of some problems down the road.

It's enough to make a girl rethink becoming a vegetarian. Those things should all be baked into pies.

(A/N: Take it, Miss Butterfly! Take us to Isengard! Or something...because I don't know what I'm doing. I'm in post-opera slump).