The young ranger was awakened by an annoying nudging in her side. When she groggily opened her eyes, realizing she had fallen asleep in the hay, her brother was softly kicking her in the ribs.

"Wake up," Daenir ordered, laughing. "Did you sleep here all night?"

"No," Daeril groaned. "I woke up on a porch."

"Did the elves drink you under the table?"

"Aye, you could say that." Daeril got to her feet, brushing hay off of her clothing as best she could.

"Elrond is sending scouts out to look for the Nazgul. I am to go with them, and I need a horse."

"Are you asking for mine?"

"Arraben is sore-backed. If you would be willing to loan me your noble steed I would be so ever grateful, dearest sister."

Rocky was a handful, and had been through a harrowing journey with her to get to Rivendell. Daeril pondered whether letting her brother ride him on a scouting mission was really the best of plans. She knew he loved horses, more so than she ever did, and would take the best care he possibly could.

"You may take him. I trust you enough not to let anything happen to him, do not disappoint me."

Aragorn readied Roheryn next to Rocky, the stallion standing much more nicely than the flighty gelding. Daeril brushed Rocky down as Daenir gathered his saddle and bags.

"I can come with you, if you need me." Daeril proposed to her chieftain.

"Lord Elrond has asked you to remain behind," Aragorn explained. "Misters Brandybuck and Took may need an escort back to the Shire, which would be you."

"The other two won't be going back?"

"Frodo and Sam will be going on a different journey," He was acting suspicious, again. Daeril always knew when he was withholding information. "We will know more in the coming weeks."

The horses were led out to the stable yard, where Elrohir and Elladan were already mounted and ready. Daeril held Rocky in place as her brother got on. The horse pinned his ears, clearly unhappy with his much bigger new rider.

"He does not like bridges," She told Daenir. "Or being tied. Treat him well, brother."

"I will," He took the reins. "Novaer."

"Faro vae."

Daeril watched the party retreat until she could no longer see them down the path, before turning back to the stables. Their would be more scouts leaving, and the horses needed attending to.

Time always seemed to stand still in Imladris, and yet sped by all the same. By the beginning of December, the scouts started to come back in small parties, reporting very little save for bodies of the black horses found drowned in the river. The hobbits were enjoying their stay, and the company of the Elves, and of course Bilbo, who despite his age was always up for a song or a story for anyone who would listen.

With most of the horses gone away, Daeril had little to do in the stables, and thus far too much time on her hands for her liking. She had taken to exercising Elrond's personal horse, a large black stallion called Belroch. The stallion was impeccably well trained, but sitting sedentary in a pasture and stall for so long had caused him to develop bad habits, such as chewing his stall walls and the wooden fences. Daeril would ride him out to the near gate and back almost every day, bareback most of the time, to stretch his legs and mind. Every day she would ask for news of her brother's return with Radir at the gate, but the weeks went by with no sign of him, nor Aragorn and the sons of Elrond. Years of experience told her there was nothing to worry about, that all of them could hold their own in the wild, but still she had a nagging thought in her mind that the worst could happen.

"A fine animal you have there,"

Daeril looked down at the source of the voice, and saw none other than the Lord Boromir of Gondor, sitting on a garden bench outside of the guest houses. He had kept very much to himself since being in Rivendell, and Daeril had only seen him in passing since his arrival.

"Lord Boromir," She said with a slight bow of her head. "This is Belroch, he belongs to the Lord of Rivendell."

"He suits you well," Boromir smiled. "You are a kinswoman of Aragorn, are you not?"

"I am. My name is Daeril, daughter of Rýndir."

"Well met. You are sister to Daenir, then?"

"Indeed. You know him?" She asked, realizing that Boromir had only just arrived after Daenir had left.

"Daenir served under my brother in Ithilien for some years. A good man."

"You just missed him, I am afraid. He left with Aragorn and the scouts."

Not one for conversation, Daeril wanted to continue back to the stables, but did not wish to be rude to a visiting dignitary from Gondor. Especially one that knew her family.

"We must speak more of this," Boromir said. "Will you be dining in the main house tonight, Daeril? I have not had much conversation since I've been here."

Agreeing to meet for the evening meal, Daeril parted ways with the Steward's son. With Aragorn and Daenir gone, she was the only other of their race in all of Imladris, and speaking to the immortal and beautiful elves could be quite exhausting.

Boromir and Daeril had supper on one of the porches, watching the early winter sun setting as they talked. Boromir told of his journey to Imladris, and losing his horse to a river current, having to trek the rest of the way on foot from Tharbad. When he finished his tale, Daeril recounted hers for seemingly the hundredth time. Her own brother at first hadn't believed that she had been chased by more than one wraith and survived, claiming it was no more than a fever induced hallucination. Glorfindel's account from scouting afterwards backed up her claims.

"It is odd how many of us were all drawn to this place at the same time," Boromir said. "How did you know to come here?"

"I was looking for Aragorn. I knew he would eventually come here, however I did not know I was days ahead of him. What brought you here?"

"My father was going to send my brother, Faramir, but I took his place. We both had a dream, telling us to seek Imladris."

"Why here?"

"Seek for the sword that was broken. The Shards of Narsil."

"Aragorn has always carried them with him," Daeril said. "You were at the Council, were you not?"

"I was, yes. You know what it was about, I presume?"

"I have heard rumors, but I dared not ask. Isildurs Bane is in Rivendell?"

"Aye. The hobbit, Frodo, bears it. Lord Elrond has set him on a quest to bring it to Mordor."

"That is a suicide mission if I have ever heard of one. Who will go with him?"

"The other hobbit, Sam? I do not know. I for one will be returning to Gondor, so may accompany them part of the way. I wish they would consider bringing it to Gondor."

Daeril did not say anything. She wasn't even aware the ring had been found, thinking it to have been lost forever when Isildur fell. There were many things that she did not know, nor did she wish to know, let alone be involved in.

Aragorn returned some weeks later, unaccompanied. Daenir had gone off with some of the other rangers, and the sons of Elrond were on a mission of their own. At first, Daeril had been worried when her brother failed to appear, but then when she had been informed of his relative safety she became angry that he had left her with no horse.

"If I am to accompany the halflings to the Shire, I no longer have a horse." Daeril tried not to sound too annoyed as she hinted her predicament to Aragorn.

"I will speak to Lord Elrond. If you are still escorting them, I can lend you Roheryn."

"Then you won't have a horse."

"I have no need."

They reached the main house, still early for the evening meal. Aragorn paused, before turning to go towards Elrond's study.

"I will send for you when I know more."

Boromir spotted the female ranger speaking with Aragorn, who appeared to have just arrived from scouting. What news did he bring? When would they finally be on the road for Gondor? He could ask the girl, of course. She did not seem to mind his company, and he very much enjoyed hers from the few times they had spoken together. Often she was off in the stables, and he would sometimes watch from afar as she would send them around and around in circles with naught but hand motions and sometimes rope.

"Daeril?"

"My Lord Boromir," She said with a slight head nod and her hand on her breast, as the elves always greeted eachother.

"Would you care to join me for a walk?"

"It would be my honor," She smiled.

He didn't really know where to walk, but now he had asked her and had to make it look like he knew what he was doing. Why was going into battle so much easier than talking to women? Daeril knew much of the world, and the wild, so talking to her should not have been more intimidating than the more beautiful ladies of Minas Tirith. No, it wasn't that they were more beautiful than her, he thought, Daeril had a different sort of beauty. A wildness, and strength. She was too tall and muscular too ever look natural in silks and jewels, and her hair was just long and tame enough to not be completely mistaken for a man, but her eyes. Boromir.

"My lord? Boromir?"

"Yes?" He came back to the present, hoping he had not been staring too much.

"You were telling me about the mumak?"

"Yes, sorry,"

He dove back into recounting the memory he had of Daenir, ten years or so prior. The older ranger had come across one of the massive beasts while patrolling in Ithilien, and somehow lived to tell the tale. When he had come back with some of the other rangers, the beast was gone but a much smaller deer had taken its place.

"He never told me that one!" Daeril laughed. "I'm not sure I would want to be near one, but what a sight that would be."

They had crossed the main bridge, and looped around to come back over one of the other river crossings heading back to the Last Homely House.

"Have you any strange beasts in the North?" Boromir asked.

"Just wolves, but they don't bother us much. We had one that came to my village when I was young, every single day. She would eat with the dogs, and had pups in one of the stables. Half wolves. My father kept one as a hunting dog, Maluon he was called. Pale gold fur, and the yellowest eyes."

"He must have been a loyal dog."

"He wasn't. He decided he didn't like life in the wild and stayed in the village getting fed. Lived to a ripe old age, but fat as anything."

They reached the house, just in time for Erestor to come looking for the both of them.

December 25

The Fellowship of the Ring, nine companions, set out from Rivendell at nightfall on the 25th of December. The air was frigid, and Daeril could see her breath in white puffs as she stood with elves of the household under the dim light of the front porches. Aragorn had the newly reforged sword Anduril at his hip, made of the shards of Narsil, but other than that he and his companions had little of arms or armor. Their mission was one of stealth, going into the wilderness under cover of darkness. Daeril was relieved to not be bringing the two halflings back to the Shire, and to not be joining the men on their journey. It was cold and miserable out there, and Rivendell was warm.

Elrond spoke to the fellowship, and then they slowly turned and left. There were quiet goodbyes from all gathered, and they all watched until they could be seen no more. At that, Elrond returned to the house and the rest followed.

Novaer- farewell

Faro vae- good hunting

A/N: I'm extremely slow at updating, sorry! I'm active duty military and it sucks up all of my time and willpower! More coming, just getting the boring stuff out of the way. Please review, would love feedback!