January 7 (finally I have a date!)

Guess where we are now? Yep, we're almost in Hollin, or Eregion, depending on which language you like to use. I think SHE must have drugged Elrond into letting HER come, or maybe that was the plan that her godmother had in mind- to get him incapacitated enough to lose all sense of judgment. But we made it out with the Fellowship, and nobody stopped us. I personally think that any of the elves who actually got to meet HER would have gladly let HER go anywhere that orcs or other nasty beings that might swallow HER alive. That probably wouldn't work, since Mary-Sues have more lives than a cat.

SHE is in for a road trip, literally. There is no running water here nor tooth bleach (ha-ha!) nor hairdryers. Why list the last one? It rained last night, and it was extremely funny. SHE moped about her hair being ruined and all that, and then SHE made me comb through it- all three and a half feet of hair that SHE had insisted on leaving down. I, with a burst of forethought, braided my hair into a literal rope that reaches down to my waist. It hasn't dried out yet, but I don't have to brush it.

I think I've probably done more walking than any time during my life. I was a far cry from an athlete back home; just ask anyone at my school. But I think that godmother did something with my lungs and muscles, since I'm not dead by exercize-induced asthma attack yet.

--

Legolas came over today while we were walking and asked what happened to my cheek. I automatically reached up and winced as I touched the scabs from the cat-moment that hadn't disappeared.

"I made a cat angry," I said placidly.

Legolas raised his eyebrows, which I now can translate to be disbelief or surprise. "No cat has claws like that," he said.

I responded solemnly, "Maybe not the cats you are familiar with, but the cat," I emphasized the word gently, "that I think of has claws very much like this, and does not hesitate to use them."

A great thing about elves is that they pick up on foreign expressions very quickly. Legolas said slowly, "Well, if this cat," he also stressed the word, "wishes to scratch you again, many would come to your aid."

"Thank you," I said with a smile and moved off before SHE could see that we had been talking.

Even later

I got to talk to Gimli today, who is probably the only male that SHE knows about and still will allow me to talk to. "Where ya' from, lass?" he asked.

It took me a second to realize that someone had managed to get past HER to talk to me. "Umm…" I had to think- where could I come from? "I come from the north-east."

He looked pensive for a moment. "Are either o' your parents from Dale?"

Okay, more lie time. "My great- grandmother came from there; my mother says that I look just like her."

I think that made sense to Gimli, because he said, "There's some good blood in Lake-town from Dale." If I read his nearly illegible facial expression correctly, I seem to be on the dwarf's good side. I would not want him on my bad side, and if I am lucky, SHE will end up on his bad side within the week.

Then I got to talk to Boromir. At the next break, he came up to me and asked, "What is your mistress' business here?"

I didn't really know what to say. "I don't really know what SHE volunteered us for." Liar, liar, pants on fire. I guess I was terse because I don't want to get to know Boromir that well, since he's going to die. If I change things to let him live, he and Aragorn will probably get into a duel to the death and if Boromir wins, the entire fate of Middle-earth would be blown to smithereens. I cannot try to change the slightest detail; I do not want to be remembered as the chick that ruined all of Middle-earth.

Boromir seemed to think that what he had said was rude, because he looked away. "I apologize, Miss. It seems that I know little of our Fellowship," he added wryly.

I returned the wry smile. "As do I." I then leaned in confidentially (OMG! I cannot believe I did that!) and whispered, "I have doubts on her motives. SHE has Plans." I glanced over to HER; SHE was trying to sneak up on Legolas, who had figured out enough of The Plan to go climb a really tall tree. It was all I could do to not laugh when she figured out that there was no way that she could climb trees in the outfit that she was wearing, which was a full-length dress.

January 8

I'm in trouble now, and it was from the least expected corner. "How old are you?" asked Aragorn in a conversational tone.

I shrugged, "Fifteen, why?"

At that, all hell broke loose. Sam stopped stirring the stew until it boiled over, Merry dropped a large rock on Pippin's foot, Frodo stared, Boromir choked on a piece of dried meat and had to be pounded on the back by Gimli, who was staring at me, Aragorn's jaw dropped, and Legolas' eyebrows disappeared under his hairline. SHE, of course, was smiling in a satisfied sort of way; how could a mere girl compete with HER? "You… you are fifteen?" asked Aragorn, this time with incredulity.

"Yes, fifteen. Do I need to spell it out for you?" I was getting irritated. Now they'll think that I'm incapable of doing anything, I thought.

And I was right. "Fifteen?" scoffed Boromir. "You're but a child."

"Fifteen, naught more than an infant," said Legolas so quietly that I don't think anyone else heard him; I did because my dad did ear-training with me from the time I could understand sounds.

I was about to retort that I technically had been an adult womanfor the past two years, but seeing as everyone save HER was male, I didn't think that that idea was so bright, so I just walked off into the woods to seethe about unfairness and equal opportunity.

Later

Did I mention that hobbits are really nice, especially Pippin? I swear, I could hug him.

Right after I stormed out of camp, Pippin came to look for me. I cannot yell at hobbits; I found this out quite early. So I couldn't stop him from jabbering on. "I know what it's like to be the littlest," he said. "The others think I'm stupid because I'm younger than any of them. But I'm not, you're not!"

I couldn't help but smile. "You're right, Pippin. Thank you." He literally beamed back at me. While he was feeling happy, I did the mental math. In hobbit years, he was but a year or two older than me- nothing at all, really, once you think about it. Then I got to thinking about the ages of everyone else in the Fellowship. I did not know how old Gimli was in solar years nor how to convert them to regular years. Legolas is probably about seven millennia old, which is slightly less than fifty in elf standards- that's old. Aragorn is about twenty- nine in Dunadain years, and the hobbits range from thirty-seven to said seventeen in hobbit years. I don't know, and don't want to know how old SHE is. Oh great, now I'm the one ranting about ages. But if they're so concerned about ages, maybe Gandalf should go back to Rivendell instead of me. I mean, he's been alive since the Beginning, and that is OLD.

January 9

If I know my calendar correctly, today is crebain day. Boromir is helping the hobbits with their swordplay, and Aragorn's helping me with mine, since once, a very long time ago, the Peredhel twins forced him to learn Elven swordsmanship. I say that he was forced because he hasn't picked up an Elven sword in over twenty years (about seven in Dunadain years, for those of you who are curious) and most people continue to do things if they like them; but then again, Aragorn isn't "most people." I did learn some from him today though, like what sort of weapons you should try not to fight (anything stabby), what sort of cuts you can and can't do (slashing works best), etc. Arwen apparently taught me proper form, but didn't tell me what to do in a battle situation. I have to say that Aragorn's trying his best, but he keeps on telling me to run and hide if we encounter anything. He didn't even tell the hobbits to run and hide! I pointed this out to him and he just responded, "They are older than you." It seems that I've gained an older brother- one who won't let me do anything on my own.

--

Make that two older brothers (of the same genre) and an uncle. And cousins- lots of cousins. Boromir started to worry that I would get burned if I got within a five pace radius of the fire, about sixteen feet. Gimli's been trying to tell me how a "proper" weapon is made (so far, all I have learned is that my "flimsy" Elven blade would snap if it ever met orc armor) and has been giving me Dwarven history lessons. The hobbits have sucked me into their society ever since I became friends with Pippin (This one has been very interesting because hobbit- families put a lot of stress on food, and the only place to cook food out here is, you guessed it, the fire; hence Boromir's going spastic). Fortunately, Gandalf and Legolas aren't acting any different (they practically ignore me); I couldn't take it if everything was different. Well, if everything would change, including HER, I would grin and bear the rest of it- especially grin.

SHE is still vile, but less so in public. I mean, who in their right mind would want to pick on someone that both Aragorn and Boromir seem to think of as a little sister? But in private, SHE is despicable. And I found out for a fact that the amulet- a talisman, actually- is a magical instrument that allows HER to contact her godmother; I saw her talking into it. So, in order to lose HER like I was ordered to, I'm going to have to steal it or something, and "misplace" HER in the middle of Amon Hen without HER noticing it's gone. This is going to be a piece of cake- yeah right!

January 10

Crebain are really, really ugly. And when I say ugly, I mean worse than what SHE deserves to be- well, not that bad, but you get the picture. Think of gigantic rabid crows with gangrene, and you have crebain. And unlike in the movie, these were flying over all day. When the first ones came, everyone (except HER) pushed me and Frodo into the best hiding spot and found ones for themselves. SHE tried to hide with Legolas, but he was hiding in a tree (I wonder what he was hiding from- the crebain or HER- since it would be a lot easier for the crebain to find him in a tree) and then SHE tried going after Aragorn, but he was nowhere to be seen, so SHE had to find her own hiding spot. And boy, was SHE mad when SHE crawled out of that bush! Her hair was tangled (again) and SHE insisted on me brushing it when we stopped the next time, which is now, at the base of Caradhras.

January 11

I don't care what Legolas says, I believe I am going to freeze. My toes are feeling like they are made of ice and if I touch my nose it will almost certainly fall off. I am a Florida girl, born and raised, for goodness sake! I have not experienced real cold, nor have I seen so much snow. Caradhras has both; it is not called "The Cruel" (as Gandalf is so fond of reminding us) for nothing. Everyone except said elf is trying to keep from freezing to death, even HER, but strangely enough, no one will allow HER to join our little warmth huddle of freezable creatures, which includes the hobbits, Boromir, Aragorn, and me. Being sandwiched between two hobbits (namely, Merry and Pippin) is better than could be imagined, since they are so nice about it. Fear of me getting burned aside, Boromir thinks we should light a fire. I agree with him on that; maybe the hobbits could teach me more about cooking. Hopefully how to not burn a salad, which I have done. Note to self: do not put lettuce anywhere near a burner.

--

The fire idea was scrapped, seeing as neither elf nor dwarf nor man could get the wood that we brought up to light. If I remember correctly, Gandalf should use magic to light the fire soon, but he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to do so. Said elf is walking on top of the snow and, I am ashamed to say, bragging about it. Remaining cheerful under these conditions is obscene. This is the first time that Aragorn and Boromir have agreed on anything: Legolas, for his and our good, should be pushed off the mountain. Yes, I have to agree with them on that one; I shall watch as Legolas' fangirl armies (including HER) storm Caradhras to brutally murder Boromir, Aragorn, and me for such an insult to his honor. To be fair, Legolas is also our only hope out of here, because we are stuck between a rock and a hard place (well, snow and a cold place). The way forward is completely shut off, and the way behind us is not easy either. Hey, maybe if SHE freezes up here we can leave HER to die!

Oh wait, I just remembered- SHE can't die. SHE has to get lost and live a miserable existence in some nearly unlivable location in Middle-Earth, and I have to get rid of that talisman. If I wasn't a wimp, I'd be swearing right now.

January 12

Too late- I swore. For the first time in my life, too. SHE decided long ago that I might be competition, but now SHE sees me as a serious threat. In order to protect her own interests, SHE has started to try to "eliminate" me. Of course, SHE couldn't just call up her grandmother and tell her to send me back- SHE has to try to kill me. I am so lucky that I have nine guardian angels, because I'd be dead right now if I didn't.

I don't know exactly what SHE did, but I remember waking up this morning to feel cold on my face. When I opened my eyes, the light was dim and I couldn't see very far. Then I inhaled- or tried to, because there was no air to breathe. I struggled slightly, but realized that my arms and legs were pinned under me, and that I had a lot of snow over me. I couldn't scream if I wanted to (which I did) because there was no oxygen. I started to feel dizzy, or as dizzy as one could feel lying down. Just as my vision started to go funny, I heard the sound of snow being moved and the light got brighter. I don't know how long it took, but the next thing I was aware of was being pulled out of my cold grave (I had figured out that that was the intent) and being carried over towards a fire (I don't know by whom). Then everything was painful. I know the pain meant that I had circulation in my legs and arms, but I could have dealt without the pain all the same. That's when the stream of curse words from various languages that I had filed in my memory for just such a situation flew out. Well, I was muttering them the whole time. From then on, my memory is clear. "How did this happen?" asked Aragorn. "There was no snow there when she went to sleep last night, and it was packed down."

SHE shrugged. "Maybe the mountain dislikes her." Man, does SHE catch on quick when SHE needs to.

Legolas shook his head firmly. "The mountain would not hold a grudge against a child, no matter her ancestor's deeds."

"We should go back down the mountain, in any case," said Gimli. "She'll recover quicker if she is in a warm environment."

Boromir agreed to that- firmly. He is so sweet; I don't think he could care more for my safety if I really was his little sister. So everyone decided that as soon as I am capable of walking, we would travel down the mountain. Gandalf proposed a quick fix with the Imladris liquour, but Aragorn, Boromir, Sam (who had firmly taken me under his wing) and I pointed out that "children" such as me cannot drink it, due to the high alcohol content. As soon as I could prove to Aragorn, Boromir, and Sam that I was not dead after all, we descended. The decent was a lot easier than the ascent; I think the mountain did that on purpose. Cruel or not, it wanted us off!

Reviewer responses:

Angeltread:I'm glad you got your cookies. When I replaced chapter two (there were some formatting issues with that one) I forgot to re-type the reviewer responses, so sorry! And what language is "kawaii chingo"?
Lior-a: Thanks! Have you written any stories, but just haven't posted? I'm curious like that.
Cainwen the Warrior: Yes! Power to the nerdy girls! I'm a nerd myself, although I like to call myself an intellectual elite, but I don't seem to make many friends that way... And people do really need to understand platonic relationships. For anyone who doesn't know what that is who's reading this, that's a relationship between two people, usually of opposite genders, with no romantic involvement between the two parties.