Author's Note:

As you can tell, it's been 3 years since I last submitted a chapter.

A little about myself firstly: I am no longer a naive teen. That's right, I have matured. I am taller (note: description of "taller"is subjective) and have moved beyond the world of Alison Hokkenpoff. Oh and I'm no longer obsessed with LOTR, nor am I that keen to marry Legolas. Oh yes and I no longer hate "Mark Read" (who, if you remember, I paid out A LOT in the previous chapters). A1 fans (if they still exist, haha) will be happy. Oh and my grammar has improved slightly since, although my friend Tom will no doubt contradict me there, ha. Oh and finally, Alison is definitely not my "mary-sue" anymore.

BUT ANYWAY I realised last week that I didn't end up submitting 2 subsequent chapters that I had written back in like June 2003. So here they are... Just note, it's my original copy so the grammar and punctuation is still shocking...at least, I have learnt that it's "Gandalf" not "Gandulf". A quick recap: Bill(the ass, I mean donkey) waschoking on grass.

CHAPTER 10:

Sam gave Bill a light whack and Bill's grass went down the right pipe.

Everyone watched the little incident, like it was a lucky distraction from their worries. 'It's the end of the world' expressions loomed on every face – well, except on mine. I had no inkling about what was so scary about the Mines of Moria. Actually I didn't know what the Mines of Moira were – but it's quite catchy if you say it in a high-pitched, 'witchy' way: 'Mines of Morrriaaaa!' I slouched back, waiting for someone to elaborate on why Moria was so scarrrrrrrry.

'Perhaps most of us will realise in the end that Moria is our only path and that we must follow it, for our need is great,' Aragorn said, finally. 'But there are some who are not so desperate to cross these paths.' He looked towards me, sighing.

'Believe me, my need is almost as great as yours!' I said, defensively.

'If I was pushed into turning back, like Aragorn was practically ordering me to do, how will I ever get out of Middle Earth? I need to see the Elf King and the Queen of Lothlorien!' I thought, panicking.

'Elrond would be most displease if his daughter attempts to cross Moria, where things worse than orcs lurk,' Gandalf started. 'And there's a chance we may all die in that attempt. Lady Arwen, there is still a – '

'I'm very sure I want to go. It is very important that I reach Lothorien,' I insisted. 'Besides, Moria's not THAT bad, right?' I knew immediately that that was the wrong thing to say; shocked faces all around me – except for Legolas' of course.

'Sure you have the heard the tales, most certainly from your father?' Gandalf said, incredulously. 'Moria is no place for you!'

'Yes, I have the uhh tales. But like I have said before, my need is very urgent.'

Gimli spoke up. 'And what is this need that is so "urgent"?'

I hesitated, and Legolas interrupted. 'The lady has her own private reasons. We are, and most certainly a dwarf like yourself, have no right to question her decisions.'

Gimli flushed and backed off.

Gandalf began talking again. 'Perhaps Aragorn would like to speak?'

Aragorn turned to me, anxiously. 'Arwen, darling, I would really like for you to turn back now and head back to Rivendell, but if going on is your wish, then I'll say no more. Instead I will promise to protect you from all the evils in the world.'

I smiled. 'Thank you.'

'Now!' Gandalf addressed everyone again. 'Does anyone not – '

He paused as an eerie howl rang through the forest.

'Wolves!' yelped Aragorn. 'Fling any fuel on the fire. Draw your blades and stand back to back!' At once, as if by clockwork, the hobbits and Gimli sprang to their feet, grabbing wood and tossing it onto the small fire. A large fire spewed from it, making a sound like a small bomb.

I grasped Elrond's sword, helplessly. Wolves? How was I going to fight wild wolves! I have never before and now is not the best time to learn.

As if reading my mind, Aragorn grabbed my arm. 'Stay in the darkness and don't move,' he told me, pushing me under 3 low-hanging trees.

I watched as the great big grey hounds surrounded the little clearing, snarling menacingly. Legolas released an arrow and it struck one in the neck. It shrieked, blood splurging form his neck. It fell and didn't move.

I was horrified. I had never seen anything die before – well except for cockroaches. The other wolves leapt forward, growling. Aragorn and Boromir drew their swords and attacked fiercely. Gimli slashed his axe through the air mercilessly, chopping off heads. I gagged as one head rolled between my feet. The hobbits scampered off to the trees together, hiding in the shadows like me. The wizard clutched his staff, muttering words, sending bright light at the wolves. I watched Legolas, admiring his graceful, fast bow work and his efficient and neat sword fighting.

In fact, I was watching so intently, I didn't notice a large male wolf slinking towards me. I didn't see him until I saw great big yellow eyes in front of me, blocking my view of Legolas. The aggressive and probably hungry wolf growled and whipped a claw at me. I screamed and fell backwards, too scared to move more. I stared at the wolf in horror, trying frantically to make my muscles react.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Aragorn running my way, slaughtering any wolves sic in his way. Suddenly, alas, four wolves charged out of the dark, clawing at him, knocking him over. I heard a yell as he feebly tried to reach for his fallen sword. Two more wolves, jumping out of nowhere, flew onto him, gauzing him, and from his anguished cries, taking chunks out of him.

'Noooooooooooo!' ARAGORN!' I screamed like a banshee, finally managing to get one muscle in me to work: my mouth.

Gimli and Boromir started towards him, Legolas shooting frantically.

Not only I was stressing and fearing for Aragorn's life, I had the wolf in front of me to worry about. He snapped his jaw hungrily and advanced suddenly, aiming for my throat.

My arm and leg muscles finally worked and I hurriedly backed away, and as if by clockwork, I thrust the sword into him. He howled, pawing at the sword, blood squelching out of his mouth and the wound. I tried to yank it out for a second blow but it seemed to be fast stuck at his ribs.

The wolf deciding it was more important to kill me than to manoeuvre his way out of a long sword, jumped straight at me, the sword dragging the ground.

'Arghhh!' I shrieked, trying to wriggle away from him and punch him in the head at the same time. He barely seemed to notice or care. He gripped me hard and pinned me to the ground. In a few seconds I would have been mince if Legolas haven't sic shot his arrows at the wolf. The wolf, like it was fire, jumped back off me, yelping.

'NAUH AN EDRAITH AMMEN! NAUR DAN I NGAURHOTH!' A loud voice pronounced – Gandulf's. A fire erupted on a tree above him, rapidly spreading to other tress around it. The wolves that were not injured or dead, all fled into the woods, away from the wild fire.

The wolves on Aragorn were the first to vanished, followed by my wolf; a sword and four arrows sticking out of him seeming not to affect him. In his panic to leave, he tripped over a large branch and the sword caught. He tried to continue running, trying to drag the branch with him. He let out a final ear-splitting scream as he released himself from the branch, and as the sword ripped through his system, pulling out his organs and blood onto the forest floor.

He was finally dead, lying a metre away from where the branch and the sword was. A distinct path of his insides twirled between him and the sword and branch, showing his final anguish and pain before his death.