Nim stared blankly at the fire crackling before her. It was the first flame they had been allowed to create since leaving Rivendell. It's tiny arms engulfed the timber, blackening it's tough skin. She welcomed the warmth the sun and fire brought her.

Their journey had started on a sullen note; no songs or laughter greeted their ears as they climbed the hills away from Rivendell. The Elves took no chances of their journey being heard from unfriendly ears; from the shadows they whispered their farewells.

Once they passed the river Bruinen, they left the road and turned west along the mountains. The land was more barren and rocky than the wilderness they had left behind. The struggle to scale the landscape proved to be difficult for both Nimirher and the Halflings. Their short statures made it difficult to keep up with the Men in their company. Gimli seemed to make the journey more easily as he was used to more rugged terrain.

For weeks they had slept by day and traveled by night. None knew the land better than the people of Rivendell. They reassured them that spies were rarely spotted; their quest depended highly upon secrecy.

The east brought a bitter wind that several layers of clothing couldn't deter. Clouds continued to cover the sun and Nim wished for an ounce of warmth upon her face as she slept.

It was two weeks into their journey before she got her wish. As the wind finally died down, it took the clouds with it and they were finally greeted with a beautiful sunrise as they rose up upon another hill. The mountain peaks glowed red in the early morning light.

Forty-five leagues had passed between them and Rivendell. No sights of enemy forces had been spotted since their journey had started. Gandalf halted their group upon the sighting of the three mountain peaks, stating a day of rest would suit them well.

Taking a small twig, she poked the dying embers, hoping to elect a little more heat from the dying flame. They had actually been able to include some meat into their morning meal; the energy amongst their group was rising.

"Already bored?" Aragorn plopped down next to her, his hair more disheveled than normal. He reached across her lap to the meal she had been saving for him.

"Well I was elected keeper of your morning meal," Aragorn cocked him an eyebrow at her while he shoved a piece of meat in his mouth, "so yes, I was bored."

"Can't trust those hobbits around food."

"Specifically Merry and Pippin?"

"Precisely," laughed Aragorn. He was appointed to morning watch and when those hobbits were having a hard time adjusting to smaller meals, he had to make sure someone was watching his back.

"How was your watch?" Nim watched him shove the last piece of food in his mouth, his chewing suddenly slowing down as he contemplated his answer.

"The trees are silent out there. Nothing showed their head."

"Yet, you're still worried."

"I've traveled through Hollin for many seasons. People abandoned this land long ago but the birds have done well," Aragorn grabbed dirt and tossed it upon the fire; gently smothering the flames, "I didn't hear any birds on my watch."

"You think it's too quiet?"

"Yeah."

Nimirher turned her attention to the thick shrubbery around them. The land was rather clear of trees so she never really thought of the bird population in the area. They had managed to find an alcove amongst the giant boulders to set up their camp; the dense underbrush providing enough protection from prying eyes. She could only hope that it would be enough for now.

Aragorn shifted down along the ground; his body stretching lazily across the hard surface. Nimirher wasn't sure how they all managed to sleep this morning when the accommodations were so inhospitable. She was counting it down to pure exhaustion on her half; nightmares hadn't even plagued her mind. She was incredibly grateful for that small miracle but she knew it wouldn't last long. The closer they got to the dark land, they would inevitably come back.

She quietly scoffed to herself, 'Well that'll give Boromir another reason to hate me.'

Aragorn's shallow breathing let her know that he was already fast asleep. She had lost the companionship of all four hobbits and Gimli to Gandalf when the subject of his sword, Glamdring, came up. Boromir would rather stab himself than spend any more time than necessary in her company. Fortunately he had afternoon watch which led her to her own devices. Standing up, she brushed dirt from her breeches and slowly stretched her cramped limbs. The pocket pulled tight along her hip; the small fruit long forgotten since her morning chore. She had taken the apple from Pippin earlier when she had caught him stealing extra rations; fully intending to reward Bill.

The stout pony was grazing a few yards from camp, his head barely visible above the tall thistle bushes that surrounded their makeshift camp. Approaching gently, her feet soft upon the earth so she wouldn't startle the creature.

"Hey Bill, I have a treat for you." Upon the word treat, the pony lifted his head and watched as she pulled the red fruit from her pocket. Abandoning his patch of dry grass, Bill swaggered lazily towards her outstretched hand. He was gentle as he took the fruit from her hand; nuzzling her hand affectionately as a thank you.

"He seems to like you." The smooth vibrations of his voice crashed violently against her body like waves along the shore. She hadn't noticed him standing back amongst the shrubbery, his feet perched precariously on the edge of the precipice.

"Isn't Boromir supposed to be on watch?"

"He keeps watch on the other side of camp," his blue eyes turned to stare at her, "My eyes can see further." He still had his bow strapped to his back but his long knives must've been left at camp because she could no longer see them hiding within his blond hair. His body seemed to visibly relax as he continued to stare at her; his arms lowering from their crossed position across his chest, "Did you just come to give Bill his treat?"

She stared down at her empty hand that now only held remnants of the pony's saliva. She had originally come to give the creature some attention since most of her companions had managed to find something to occupy their time. Had she known that the elf would be standing alone along the cliff face, she might have postponed her little trip. His presence made her completely uncomfortable. He elected sensations from her body she hadn't realized she was capable of.

She felt like she was eight years old again when she had feelings for a stable boy that lived near her Gondorian family. Her father had teased her mercilessly on the stuttering conversations she had tried to breach with the young man. She hadn't given up though and she kept trying to get him to notice her. He had essentially ignored her and found better companionship with the flirty advances of her adopted sister.

Twenty-one years old and she was still afraid of the elevated heart rate the elf seemed to produce within her chest. The longer she found herself in his presence, the more she noticed the sweaty palms and lack of breath. The immortal man in front of her was handsome and she felt completely inadequate.

"Come here." His gentle command fell like honey from his lips and she found her attention back to his beautiful eyes. He had advanced a good twenty feet in her direction while she had been distracted by her thoughts. He kept her gaze as he finally stepped up to her; their bodies barely touching.
"What?"

"I want to show you something." Gently he slid her hand into his, the calloused palms sliding perfectly against her young skin. Power seemed to flow endlessly between their joined flesh; neither of them feeling a sensation quite like that before.

Legolas gripped her hand tighter as he slowly tugged her forward. Her limbs seeming to have frozen upon contact, as they were having a hard time with basic functions like walking. He needed not have turned his back on her as his feet had the path memorized. He carefully avoided the cliffs' edge, gently leading her back to his watch post.

Her feet willingly followed him along the rocky ledge; eyes still fastened upon his beautiful face. She got within feet of his tiny ledge when fear locked her limbs. She had never been a fan of being far from the ground and Legolas was leading her to a spot that jutted out above the gapping cavern below.

He felt the moment her body locked against him and surrendered to fear. Fingers tightened within his grip as her feet dug deep against the solid earth; seeking a solid platform much farther from the edge he had been coaxing her towards.

He let her slowly drag him farther into the brush before he finally used his strength to halt her progress. Frightened eyes strayed from the edge and shot to his face; her brown orbs committed to the irrational fear that he would let her fall. He did not want to force her; he needed her to trust him.

With a soft tug her body lurched forward, colliding with his solid form. Her human body was not used to the strength of elves and she was surprised that he could move her so effortlessly. "What are you afraid of?"

Words were hard to push past her tongue; her mind completely muddled with the masculine scent of the elf pressed against her body. Shaking her head she took a small step back, perhaps she wouldn't look like a complete idiot if she could utter at least one coherent sentence.

He followed in step with her; his face so close to hers now. "I will not let you fall, you know that." Her head only managed to slowly nod as she was distracted by his heated gaze, "And you know Aragorn wouldn't let me near you if he thought I would hurt you." Again, a nod. "Trust me." One more nod.

This time he did turn his back on her as he led them out of the tangled shrubbery. Creeping slowly along the cliffs edge, he kept his grip firm in her hands; her fear already creeping back into her shaking limbs. This time she did not try to run but followed closer behind him; his calm demeanor seemed to help her.

Approaching his watchmen's ledge, Legolas finally brought her to the location he had been wanting her to see. Standing behind her, he pointed out towards the valley that opened up before her eyes. Nimirher wasn't sure how much time had passed in his company but the afternoon sun was long gone and she watched as the bright evening sun shone upon the mountain ridge. She forgot about her fear as she gazed down the cliff below, the light slowly retracting from the rocks below.

Clouds could no longer keep the dark from approaching and the beginning of stars began to glow. The night mixed lazily with the evening sun; slowly tucking the world of color away until morning. Nimirher watched the world change before her eyes, never noticing the hand she still held in her own, or the other upon her waist keeping her safely from the edge.

"It's beautiful."

Nimirher shuffled her feet impatiently through the dirt as she stood on her morning watch. She had originally been elated to have a job to do especially one as important as the groups safety, but she was finding it to be just as boring as guarding Aragorn's breakfast. Their camp was still danger free aside from rocks and thorny plants, something Pippin learned the hard way from this morning. She could still see him pulling thorns from his ass between sword lessons.

Her stomach grumbled from the smell of morning breakfast but its glorious sounds couldn't drown out the deep baritone of Gimli's voice behind her. He had spent most of the morning trying to convince Gandalf that paths through Moria would make a faster journey than over Caradhras. She wasn't familiar with either geographical location but Gimli was putting up a convincing argument with warm halls, food, and beer.

"It is for the Dimrill Dale that we are making. If we climb the pass that is called the Redhorn Gate, under the far side of Caradhras, we shall come down by the Dimrill Stair into the deep vale of Dwarves." Gandalf seemed to placate the Dwarf for a while with that statement but Moria eventually crept its way back into their conversation and she could feel the anxiety flowing steadily from the smoking wizard. Nim turned around to stare at the looming Mountain behind her. She was about to become familiar with the true meaning of cold in just a few short hours.

The practiced swings of tiny swordplay was distracting her left ear. After Pippin's failing attempt to save himself from an ass full of thorns, Boromir and Aragorn had decided to spend their afternoon coaching the hyper hobbits on the proper techniques of attacking opponents. It was hard to not laugh at the four of them but her attention needed to be on the land surrounding their camp, which brought an entirely new problem to her attention….Legolas.

She remembered dreaming last night. Amazingly vivid dreams about an elf that wanted to spend far too much attention to the sensations his touch created along her skin. Once she was both frustrated and heated thoroughly, said elf woke her up for her morning watch. She had felt like an idiot staring at his face without a single syllable leaving her lips. She had remembered heat flooding her face as she walked away from his chuckling form. Had she been in her right mind, she might have said something but instead she had to walk away and pretend like nothing was wrong.

No matter how hard she tried, the night beneath the stars with him crowded every corner of her mind. He probably had more than three hundred years of desirable looks and flirty connotations he could throw her way that would only make her feel more like the child that she was. It frightened her to think that he might even have more than a thousand years. It would leave her completely vulnerable to his charm since she didn't seem to have an ounce of her own.

Shifting her gaze back to the South, the easterly wind swept through her jacket, chilling her skin She studied the horizon closely, watching the clouds drift by faster with the bitter wind. Cocking her head to the side, she reflected on the quiet atmosphere around her. Ten minutes ago, she could hear Bill gnawing on the patch of grass behind her while a few struggling rodents fought over rotten vegetables of some kind but now it seemed quieter. The rodents had fled and Bill was distractedly still, his tail no longer swishing from his happy eating.

Her eyes followed the pony's gaze further south, her eyesight straining with the ability to pinpoint his distraction. Squinting her eyes, she could just make out a dark patch flowing against the afternoon wind. "Legolas."

The blond elf had taken watch on the north end of camp. Everything seemed relative undisturbed on his side so he found his attention diverting more towards the south where a certain female was keeping watch. He had watched her go from studious watchful warrior to bored warrior in a matter of a few hours. Her erratic human behavior intrigued him, he found himself laughing more often when it involved her.

Her quiet voice reached him from across camp. Turning around, he noticed her body had grown considerably more rigid as her attention seemed to be focused to the south. She had kept her voice down in hopes of not alarming their group, knowing he'd hear her but as he jumped across boulders to reach her, the rest of their companions grew quiet.

His tall figure loomed over her small frame as he followed her gaze. His keen elf eyes immediately spotted the danger her eyes were still trying to decipher, "Crebain from Dunland!"

Aragorn's shout to hide was heeded from everyone as they scrambled to gather their gear and smother fires. She had barely grabbed her pack when Legolas grabbed her around the waist and swung her towards a series of thick bushes. Protesting had proved futile after she was practically shoved under them by the rough elf.

She laid flat upon the earth, her head staring through her twig canopy, watching as the flock of black birds flew overhead, circling back several times. She settled herself down for a long wait with a man that set her body on fire.

Hey Guys! Thanks for all of you who have read, favorited, followed, or reviewed this story. You guys really do keep me going and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time!