Nimirher found herself hiding in the woods, spending her time sitting by a small stream. It ran through the land of Imladris, eroding the soil away slowly. Just like the insignificant body of water before her, her life was eroding a new path, cutting away at her old memories. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't afraid.

Shifting her feet impatiently, Nimirher kicked a few pebbles, abandoning them to drown in the swirling water. The last three days she had been unconscious her dreams played with her mind. The vicious nightmares threatened her limbs, willing her body forward, daring her to accept her dark side. She was so angry, frustrated at the Gods for giving her such a cryptic future. Saruman had fed her nothing but lies, making her believe she was made for something more in this world. All she could see was a future of death.

Talagor nickered somewhere off to her right. She hadn't spent much time with her friend since being housed in the land of Elves. She had missed his intelligence and spontaneity. Walking over to the black beast, she stroked his coat lovingly. Smiling, Nimirher continued to stroke his mane, relishing in the feel of the soft hair. The black tangles weaved in and out of her fingers, flowing like water. The midnight shine had always captured her attention, but now the color seemed to change right before her eyes. Black suddenly lightened, turning paler. Her eyes widened, suddenly remembering her dream from the other night.

It had been so different from the other nightmares that had plagued her mind. Gone was the fire, gone were the screams of the dying, and gone was the crippled body of Legolas. Instead she remembered a meadow growing wild with weeds, a gentle breeze playfully teasing her hair and soft earth beneath her boots.

Nimirher pressed her hands tighter against her ears, hoping to drain out the screams. She could feel the blood on her hands, staining the pale flesh. Breathing in and out she tried counting, hoping to block out the images. Rough hands pulled at her skin, marking her skin, branding her as the devil. She squeezed her eyes shut waiting for the inevitable end.

The severed screams stopped and she waited for the eye of Sauron to evade her mind. The sweltering heat of her fire gave way to a gentle breeze. Opening her eyes Nimirher found herself alone, waist deep in a field of tall grass and flowers. She spun around violently, searching for the devious smile of Saruman. She waited for him to rip her away from this haven, away from sun and to shadow.

The meadow stood empty behind her, the weeds swaying side to side. No bodies stalked high into mounds to burn. Puzzled, Nimirher glanced down to her hands. Her palms stared back at her, pale and unblemished.

" I won't let them hurt you." Nimirher stood transfixed to the woods in front of her, daring herself not to turn around. She recognized that voice, she could find him in any crowd. His sultry tones fell down her back, caressing the covered skin as if she were exposed. Slowing rotating around, Nimirher found herself face to face to Legolas. His broad shoulders blocked the sunlight, his eyes suddenly becoming the main focus. Normally stoic, his blue orbs brewed a relentless storm. The intensity sent shivers down her spine.

"What?" she could only manage a small whimper. His elf ears would be strong enough to notice the slight tremor in her voice. His power was drawing her in, making it difficult for her to remain strong.

Legolas stepped forward, his body engulfing her small frame. Everything about her body invited him in, everything about her told him she wanted him. His fingers twitched by his side wanting to wrap themselves in her brown locks. His fingers brushed her cheek, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His breath hitched in his throat, the brief contact with her skin, lighting his skin on fire. "I won't let them hurt you."

"Lady Nimirher?" Nimirher snapped out of her daydream. She was still in Rivendell playing with Talagors' black mane. Turning around she found Frodo staring quizzically in her direction. How long had he been calling her name?

"I'm sorry Frodo. I seemed to have drifted off."

"Oh, it's quite alright. Drifting off can be nice." The young hobbit dropped unceremoniously to the ground, taking root next to the small stream that had recently occupied Nimihers' time. His furrowed brow only accented his far off gaze. She could ask him what was wrong, but she already knew. Gandalf had informed her of the fellowships' decision, delighting in the tale of her acceptance amongst the nine men. She had been suspicious of the rash decision, already knowing in her heart it was because they were afraid of her.

"Are you afraid, Lady Nimirher?" Dropping her gaze back to Frodo, she found him chewing his bottom lip vigorously, still staring out into the distance.

"Afraid of what?" Frodo shuffled his body, turning around to give her his full gaze. The troubled hobbit before her trembled with anticipation.

"The unknown." Nimirher abandoned her stance next to Talagor. Crouching down, she embraced the Halfling, relishing in the feel of his small hands clenching her jacket. Fear radiated from his body in waves, chocking her lungs.

"Always," she whispered. Her hand kept his head pressed to hers. She whispered sweet lullabies in his ear while he wept. She had been trying so hard to suppress her own pain that she had forgotten about the real world. The real world in which a tiny Halfling held their fate within his hands. "But so does everyone and you have so many people here to protect you."

She made a promise to herself that day. She would protect Frodo with her life and she would take her own before she let Saruman use her gift against them.

The trees stood still, silent, their leaves begging for the heavens to open and release the rain it wanted so badly. The sky was ominous, it's dark clouds fighting amongst themselves. Legolas watched from the window as the elves of Rivendell hurried to their rooms, their fear all too easy for him to sense from his high perch.

His jaw twitched around his clenched teeth, his hands already begging for the familiar weight of his bow. He knew why they feared so but their stumbling gaits were not justified. Their unsettling stares glanced briefly to the room below; Nimirhers' room. His patience for these elves was diminishing, he growled low in his throat. They hadn't felt the dead weight of her body as it hung so dangerously still in his arms. They hadn't felt the slow dance of her heart; it's tiny wings barely beating against the bars of her body. The paralyzing fear within his heart as he watched her scream and burn would forever be scorched in his mind.

Glancing down at his hands, he marveled at their certainty. His fingers were still strong, calloused from over the years, but their flesh yearned for so much more now. Their memories remembering the feel of her body. They relished in the feel of her curves beneath the tunic and breeches, the way it felt to brush the hair from her face.

He found himself growing increasingly angry with his thoughts. Curling his hands into fists, he turned his attention to the window once again. These emotions, these feelings were so foreign to him. He knew what lust felt like. He had been alive for far too many years to not recognize the familiar itch of that carnal need. These emotions, though strong, were human in appearance. They distracted him, his eyes needing to roam in her direction every moment he could. His hands wanted one more touch, her body calling upon a divine light that left him speechless.

"Does no man see logic?! She is a danger to the entire fellowship!" Boromir. The man had become increasingly distraught the past hour they had been locked in Lord Elrond's study. He rambled on and on about the dangers Nimirher could pose for their group. As a warrior, Legolas could see the potential threat the young woman brought to their perilous journey. Her powers were out of control. Her previous life had been spent with a traitor. Who was to say that Sauron himself wasn't keeping a watchful eye over her. But Legolas was also an elf with blood that burned for the fiery girl. Without fault of her own, she had managed to captivate him, leaving only Gandalf's word of innocence for the girl the only evidence he needed. The wizard's word had been good to his people, something the Gondorian man refused to take into consideration.

"Boromir, we all know of your concerns but this is the will of Gandalf." Elrond kept his body meticulously folded in his chair. He was a patient man, his actions revealing nothing for Boromir to fret over, but his worry was becoming increasingly evident to both Aragorn and Legolas. His sharp eyes burned with the reflection of Nimirhers' tormented body and he feared for the well being of the fellowship. Gandalf had long since earned his place within his counsel, he would not deny his request.

"The WILL of Gandalf?! Where is the old wizard?" His fevered pacing resembling a trapped warg at this point. With his hands constantly pulling at the loose strands, his hair now stood erect upon his head. The heavy boots of the troubled man continued to hammer over the quiet steps of the elves.

"Gandalf resides with Nimirher right now. He does not need to be here, he has given me his decision. His decision is final Boromir."

Boromirs' lips sneered, his body too rigid and distraught to warrant a response. He brushed his hair rather violently from his eyes before striding out of the room. Lord Elrond let his shoulders slowly drop, his slouched position showing how weary his body truly was. Drawing out a deep breath, his fingers slowly loosened their death grip upon his chair.

"Elrond do not worry about Boromir. His troubles are misplaced but he is a good man. I've spent but three days with Nimirher, her heart is good, she will not stray from this company." Legolas watched as Aragorn placed a gentle hand on the bent shoulder of the tired Lord. His compassion leaked strength into his limp limbs, his back suddenly straightening.

"I am not worried about her straying. She has a strong heart but there is a dark power in her. It is strong and it does not want to lie dormant any longer. I do not know if she is strong enough."

Legolas brought his attention back to the window, his lips still silent. What if she wasn't strong enough? He wasn't sure he could see her body convulsing through such pain again. To imagine her body as only a vessel to her power plagued his mind. He could see her deep brown eyes, empty, the girl completely gone from within. His soul tightened, squeezing the air from his lungs. He knew at that moment that he would protect that woman with his life, to lay it down if it would only spare her more pain.

"Nimirher you need to concentrate." Gandalf had repeated that montage over and over again for the past couple hours. His soft voice was firm and unrelenting as he paced back and forth. Nimirher's room was slowly becoming a sweltering cavern of burning heat but the old wizard kept going, his staff silently tapping across the wooden floor.

Her eyes never left the pile of cinder in front of her but she could still feel the presence of the taunting wizard behind her. With every turn of his heel, his staff would make soft purpose against her thigh, trying to break her concentration. It had managed to irritate her every time.

Her unladylike behavior reared it's ugly head, her lips throwing out curses every time she failed to set the sparse wood ablaze. Her body already over heating from the effort, sent billowing steam clouds from her tight limbs. The close quarters of her room was slowly growing hotter, tendrils of sweat leaked down the wizards' weathered features.

"I can't Gandalf." Her defeated voice dribbled lazily from her lips, her heavy head suddenly falling limp to her chest. She expelled rapidly through her lungs trying to cool down her scorching skin. Gandalf wouldn't be able to sit within three feet of her yet, her tainted skin projecting a heated barrier.

Exhaling one more time, Nimirher felt the sweet chill of the night air cooling her naked neck and face. Gripping her knees, she prepared herself for the look of disappointment upon her mentors' face. Her tired eyes followed the length of his gray robe past his long beard, making contact with his blue eyes. Eyes that should've held discontent but smiled warmly at her slouched shoulders.

"Nimirher, I am not disappointed in you. You just need to find your courage. The one thing that keeps you fighting."

Nimirher watched Gandalf as he took a seat upon her plush bed, her blankets still disheveled from her morning nightmare. She remembered how erratic your limbs flung about the sheets trying to disentangle herself from her invisible foe. "What is your courage?"

"Family….and love," Gandalf's eyes followed Nimirher's fingers as they twitched incessantly in her lap, "it is the most powerful emotion you will ever feel."

Her fingers stalled, her breath suddenly catching on the persistent memory of the blond elf. He had appeared in her dream that very morning, his head cradled in her lap as she wailed over his dead body. Moisture slowly collected upon her lower lashes, blurring her vision briefly. "And what if I can't find my courage?"

"I have a feeling, in time, that you will." He leaned heavily upon his staff as he lifted his weary body, his feet shuffling slowly towards her door.

"Get some sleep, we leave tomorrow." Smiling to her briefly, he left her behind with more questions than she had answers for.