March 6

So now we're on the road- again, and Mhera is plaguing me about riding the horse I'm walking next to.

"Mhera Creed, if you even think about trying to get me on a horse, I swear I will murder you."

She just laughed it off. "You're going to have to ride to Gondor. You need the practice."

"Har har," I replied. "For your information, I just relearned how to walk a little more than a month ago. I would like to keep in practice with walking."

So ten minutes later, here I am.

On the back of the horse.

Mhera went way below the belt on this one. She went running to Éowyn they both practically shoved me on that horse. Ooh, I am going to kill that girl- turned- Elf.

Wait a second, who's that sitting on that rock? She looks familiar.

Oh, great.

--

Back when life was normal and rather nice to a wimp like me, some friends and I made up some Lord of the Rings themed comics. The only problem was that only one of our number could draw comics to save our lives. So we talked a lot about "If we could draw," and we'd describe a scene. One of our common characters was Hope the Hitchhiking Hobbit based off of, you guessed it, a girl named Hope, who would turn up in random places to annoy the Fellowship to death and poke Saruman and scream "Dooku!" in his ear. How she ever got tall enough to yell in his ear we never figured out, but it was a funny mental picture all the same.

Unfortunately, she's here. Hope the Hitchhiking Hobbit is here to terrorize Middle earth and maybe help Mhera tear down the Golden Hall.

We named our fictional hobbit after Hope because she looked as if she could actually be a hobbit. She was on the short side, had big hairy feet, and had the typical hobbit life-outlook. Plus she obsessed over Merry. So Hope isn't much changed. She's a little shorter then she was, and plumper proportionately. And she's wearing a dress. I don't think I ever saw Hope in a dress. And she had the biggest, hobbit-y smile ever when we came even with her. "Hey, guys!" she said.

"H...h... Hope?" I stuttered.

"How did you get here?" asked Mhera, jaw about three inches below its normal position.

"I hitchhiked," she said simply. "I landed in Middle-earth last December. From there I got a ride from someone from Hobbiton to Coombe, and one from Bree to Rivendell. From there I went through the pass, ran into some nice people in Rohan, and ended up here on the road to Dunharrow. So, do you have any food?"

March 9

We finally came to Dunharrow, and part two of the Plan has been set into motion. The first part, of course, was to get us out of Edoras with armor and weapons, and figure out a way to disguise the feminine look. I will admit, with my old body, it would have been impossible. But I have less of a figure now, and judging from the trials we did with the armor in Éowyn

's room, I can pass as a guy, so long as I don't talk like I normally do. That's going to be the tough part; I could talk the hind leg off a mule.

Now it's my job to look for the Fellowship; or what's left of it, anyway. I have a feeling that certain people will be shocked when they see my hair. And yes, that's the best revenge I could think of: doing something completely unexpected. I'm really bad at getting revenge, I know!

--

Shock was an understatement. Even our composed Elf stuttered. Gimli recovered first and actually laughed, saying, "So this is what we get when weh leave yeh to yer own devices." But Legolas just stared, eyebrows nearly part of the hairline and mouth opening and closing like a fish. I have my revenge for them leaving me and making me practice archery! Take that, Elf boy!

Uh oh, he's got that look in his eye. The one that says, we're going to see whether you practiced or not.

--

How Legolas managed to find an unpopulated area around here is beyond my belief, but he did. Then he found a dead tree, and etched the circle in the middle, larger than it was the first time I tried, and gave me his little spiel on Aim. He has yet to find a time when the lecture on Aim is not appropriate; the days we could not practice, he would recite it on the run. Once again, I don't blame him; he's trying to help.

...now try," he finished, breaking me out of my reverie counting leaves, and handed me the bow in my wrong hand.

"Oh," I said, and switched hands, then placed my feet, aimed, and like it had been these days past, I hit the center.

Legolas, however, did not notice the feat, since he was slapping his forehead. Yes, Elf, I am left-handed. I have been writing in a journal nearly every day for the past two seasons (by Elven reckoning) and he just noticed that I cannot use my right hand to even pick up a spoon. Kudos for him. To prevent him from losing more brain cells, I interrupted, "Was my aim true?"

He shook his head to clear it. "Yes, it was. But why, by Melkor's chains, did you not tell me you were hagram?"

I stared. "Well, I didn't know that was the term. And furthermore, how was I supposed to know that the way you were teaching me was for the 'north handed' since I had not picked up a bow until Lórien?"

He shrugged and sighed. "That is true. We could have saved a lot of time."

I then looked up to the position of the sun. According to Mhera's and my "foresight," we should be getting ready now, so I excused myself and ran off for our ritual of dirtying and chest binding and overall masculine-ifying.

--

Wow, a lot has happened today, but I just had to squeal on this one. Mhera was "a little late" for our metamorphosis. Speaking of which, Éowyn found an extra set of armor that will fit Hope, but that's beside the point. Anyways, I came to "the ladies' tent" as it is known, to find only Éowyn, who was giggling hysterically. I looked at her weird, and she simply gasped out, "Its... Mhera... and... Éomer!" and started to giggle again. Groaning at the fact that I was surrounded by incurably silly people, I went off in search of the two missing members of our group, dragging the giggling Éowyn with me.

It didn't take long to find Hope. She and Merry had found the mess and were steadily destroying it. I gave her a look and a message that we were preparing to leave, but conveniently left out our destination. She (reluctantly) came with us, and we went off to spy on- I mean find- Mhera. And we did.

She was sitting next to Éomer by a fire, probably as demure as I have ever seen her (I can't believe I am using that word to describe her, but I am), and she was blushing. Ai Varda, this is the first indication that I've ever had that she was humanoid. He said something, she laughed, they talked a while, and he laughed. It was all a very pretty picture, especially in the firelight, but we had plans to attend to. However, I was smart enough to know not to interrupt her, and not even Hope could stand her wrath. So that left one other.

"Éowyn, would you go get her? I don't think she'll listen to me."

"What? And ruin one of my brother's few moments of happiness? Not on my life." Awiergain ge, Éowyn, sisterly affection is all well and good, but we have a plan here! So we sat there, and thought.

Hope finally spoke, through mouthfuls of a piece of bread she managed to grab as she left. "Why don't we... just go back to the... tent? She knows... she's gotta come."

So that's what we did- it was all we could do.

And now she's finally showed up. We had agreed not to say anything to Mhera until we got to Minas Tirith, when she wouldn't have a sword within arm's reach of her. Friend though she is, she can get violent when annoyed. Distance is recommended.

Oh great, chest-binding now.

March 10

Yay, one day complete and we have yet to be discovered. We have been riding near the back, where no one can hear Mhera giving me instructions. But apparently the Elf-blood is helping me learn really quickly, since I have yet to fall! Go me!

On a more sober note, hiding our two "little ones" has proved tricky. We had long ago decided on the tactic of Lying Low, but that is more difficult than most would believe. We are in an army camp with six thousand men in the area! But we're managing.

We continue to hide. And in my case, suppress Sue-ish thoughts. Why do some of these guys have to look so good?

March 11

I am seriously thinking that Éowyn or Mhera bribed Elfhelm (the Marshal whose éored we are pretending to belong to) to ignore us. Maybe he and Éowyn are old friends and he's doing this as a favor, but we are hardly inconspicuous.

March 12

We are camping near a mountain, and I can see a forest ahead. Nothing more interesting to say. Other than a pen broke. I'm down to one, but I hadn't started using it until today.

March 13

We reached the forest and are riding through it. It isn't that interesting, but it is far less monotonous than the plains.

March 14

Same old same old. But it won't be boring tomorrow. The battle is tomorrow, and hopefully I'll survive.

Reviewer responses:

Cainwen the Warrior: You want to know how my main character got turned into an elf?
Well, I'll tell you.
I don't know.
Why she changed species is another matter entirely. Firstly, 'cause she wouldn't survive past Rauros being outnumbered and outsensed. Secondly, I wanted to show that it isn't easy to switch species. I'm sick of stories where girls switch and all of a sudden they turn into these graceful twits. I wanted to show what it was probably like.

Crecy: I can't wait either. I actually spent two days looking in my Tolkien reference books to find the word for 'left-handed.' All I really found was something about Maedhros Feanorion being more skilled with a sword after his brother cut off his right hand.

Laer: You might want to hide your forks, knitting needles, and pencils as well.

angeltread: Trying to do something right-handed when you are a lefty is a pain. I actually wrote an essay about how it's important for left-handers to have proper school equipment, especially desks. Did you know that writing in a desk not designed for your hand preference can cause back trauma and chronic pain? Oh, and I don't think your aunt's letter opener would be sharp enough to cut your hair. Try seeing if you could donate it to Locks of Love. Or is it Locks for Love? Grr... can't remember.

FallenTruth: If you like Mhera, her side of the story's going to be published soon.

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There's a reason I'm not a cheerleader, other than my dislike for impersonating Barbie.