You know, not to just completely interrupt my own story, but I've realized something.

I'm changing. Changed. Different than I was. I realize a quest like this would change anyone, but...Even my mind has changed, my memories. I'm not the person who put so much value on her knowledge of the books and movies, viewed the people around her as characters and herself as seperate from their fates, because, well, it shouldn't matter. After all, she was real, and they weren't. End of story.

Except it wasn't. I know these people now, know them and love them, and would call them friends if they would have me. But at the end of this quest...what place is there for me? I'm no warrior, nor leader, nor brainless noblewoman content to be a trophy wife.

And it's doubtful I'll remain in Middle-Earth once this quest is completed. Or so I think, or feel, perhaps.

So, the real question...What place is there for me in my old world, this new girl, hardened by questing and scarred by battle? What place is there for me in a world where you don't fight your enemies hand to hand but hundreds of yards apart? In a world of McDonald's and pizza delivery?

What the hell am I supposed to do with myself then?

111

I sigh hugely, once more wallowing in my own self-pity, and Boromir turns to me, gray eyes concerned, falling easily into the over-protective big brother mode he probably perfected ages ago. He must have driven Faramir insane.

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head. "I'm thinking. This quest is almost over, right?"

Boromir nods thoughtfully. "The Valar willing, we shall emerge victorious."

I shake my head. "Ugh, morbid thoughts. Forget it. So...what's the plan?"

"By Iluvatar, it cannot be!" called a mocking voice behind me. "Do mine eyes deceive, or has the lovely warrior-princess clad herself as befits her station?"

"Have you been reading Rohirric romances again, 'Dan?"

I shake my head, turning to face the twins, hands on hips. They both press their hands over their hearts and bow.

I look at Boromir. "I think they're mocking me."

Elladan comes up and drapes an arm across my shoulders. "What will Legolas say?"

"What will I say about what?"

We all turned. Legolas was standing in the door, and excuse me while I gape. And, no, not just beause he's gorgeous, which he is. He's dressed as a prince, all in white, his long hair braided back and a mithril circlet on h is brow. Elladan and Elrohir both bow, and so does Boromir a split second later. It takes me a second to remember I'm supposed to curtsey.

Elladan bounds up next to him and pinches his cheek. "Well, aren't you cute!"

Legolas gives him such a dark look that even Elladan back off a bit. But he's still grinning. He bows again, mockingly Legolas rolls his eyes. He glances over at us, looks away, and yes, here comes the look of complete disbelief. Yep, there it is. And THAT doesn't make me self-concious. Nope, not at all.

I fold my arms over my chest and glare, instantly reverting to the bitch inside. "What?"

He laughs. "I thought perhaps you were someone else!"

I shake my head. "I am getting out of this dress."

"Can I watch?" Elladan asks immediately. Then Elrohir rams his elbow into his brother's stomach. Legolas grabs my arm as I head for the stairs. "Nay, Kayli, you look lovely."

"We figured there was a woman in there somewhere," Elrohir says.

OK, that's it. "I am SO going to change."

"Into what?" Elladan asked.

I turn around and start to walk -- OK, OK, storm -- away, but Legolas grabs my arm and turns me back around, tucking my hand into his. "Ignore them, you look beautiful."

"Well, he would think so," Boromir says easily.

"Well, he hasn't seen a woman in months."

Elladan SO has a death wish. I tug my hand out of Legolas' and turn to head back for my room. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'll meet you in the hall."

I walk away, and I can hear them bickering behind me. I'd tell you what they're saying, but it's in Elvish.

I've never felt more at home in my life.

111

Everybody's crowded in the throne room when I get back. Aragorn's pacing, Legolas is standing by one of the windows, just staring out. Gimli's sprawled on the stiars with Elladan and Elrohir. They're just goofing off, acting dumb. Which, in the case of Elladan, comes quite NATURALLY. He must enjoy pain. I am going to hurt him.

The Hobbits are around the table with the food, no real surprise there. Haldir is picking at something suspiciously not food-like. Has Eowyn been cooking? No, that was cruel. Not that I care. Boromir is standing nearby, hovering over a younger man with brown hair and gray eyes just like his. Must be Faramir. Gee, ya think? And there's Eomer, giving Eowyn the same treatment, and Gandalf's pacing.

Is it just me, or are Faramir and Eowyn sitting kinda close?

Must be me. Hee.

Elladan catches sight of me, and bounces to his feet. Yes, bounces. Like he's on a spring. "There you are!"

Elrohir laughs. "Now I recognize her!"

Elladan drapes an arm over my shoulders and guides me over to sit with his brother and Gimli. "Your gown was lovely, mellon, but this is more familiar." He kisses my cheek, then smirks across the room.

What is up with these people? Has everybody lost their bloody mind?

I shrug off Elladan's arm and head over to Boromir. He smiles at me and gives me a quick hug. "There you are, little sister. Kayli, this is my brother. Faramir, I would like you to meet your new sister, Kayli."

Faramir glances at me, smiles slightly, drops me a little wink, and then assumes an expression of flawless innocence.

Oh, God, another one. Everybody's a comedian.

I grab a glass from the table as Faramir turns that look to his brother. "And you didn't invite me to the wedding?"

I choke on my first swallow. Ugh, I hate wine. Haldir slaps my on the back a couple of times to tone down the coughing. Eowyn smacks Faramir on the arm. "Will you behave?"

He just grins at her. Boromir glares at me. "You choked?"

"You. Marriage. Uck." And with that statement, thousands of Boromir fans across the world are preparing to kill me. Slowly. In great pain. How would you like it if someone suggested you marry your brother.

Yeah, uck. That's what I thought.

"OK, so what's the plan?" I ask.

"Great danger, certain death," Gimli says. "The usual."

"Ah."

"Well, there's a bit more to it than that," Faramir says.

"In the morning, we ride on the Black Gate," Aragorn explains.

"Or not," Faramir mutters.

Oh, no. HELL no. He has got to be kidding. "That's the plan?" I demand incredulously. "Suicide is the plan?"

Aragorn frowns at me. Y'know, there are moments when I think I've almost snuck through Aragorn's defenses and he can almost stand me. And then there are the moments when I say something to disparage his great plans and he gets all crabby. This is one of those moments.

"We seek not to defeat Mordor. We want only to give Frodo time to destroy the Ring."

I hold up my hands defensively. "Aragorn, relax. I didn't say it was a bad plan. Mainly because it's the only plan we have."

"We cannot defeat Mordor through strength of arms," Eomer points out.

"But that's not the plan," Pippin says. He fixes his huge blue eyes on Eomer. I can almost see him starting to cave, and Pip hasn't even really SAID anything yet.

Beware Hobbit huggability. BEWARE.

"Right," Merry breaks in. "All we're really doing is buying time for Frodo and Sam."

"And that's why it's a good plan," I add.

Legolas pulls the circlet off his head and starts turning it through his hands. "A diversion is their only hope of success."

Yes. Thank you, Mr. States-The-Obvious. Is it just me, or does Legolas seem a bit distracted lately?

Maybe that actually is just me, but I might check in later. Boromir would probably say I worry too much, which I think is a bit ironic, coming from him.

"Nearly certain death. Small chance of success. What are we waitin' for?" Gimli asks.

Yay! ANOTHER field trip!

TBC...