"I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way."
-Carl Sagan

Arwen gave Amelia much to mull about. For four days it plagued her and she sat in her rooms and in the library, shifting through books erratically, as if she might find the ideal solution in their yellowed pages, until the day the snow melted away again, leaving a barren autumn landscape in its wake. Amelia was saddened, but something changed when she saw the drops of water falling from the edge of the roof of Rivendell's halls. Her jaw set, her back straightened and she strode through the hallways with all the burning intent of a noble lady.

The doors to the study of Lord Elrond were opened for her and she strode inside, wearing the same clothes as the day she had arrived except for her coat, gloves and undershirt. She was fidgeting slightly with the end of her right sleeve when she stopped in front of the elf, bent over ancient papers spread over a table made of twirling glass. A pattern of misty contours had been hand-sewn onto his dark, purple robes and a silvery circlet rested on his brow. He looked, for all intents and purposes, far above Amelia's lot in life, but she cared not as she stood in front of him.

"Where's Gandalf?" She asked him, without explaining her intentions or greeting him, as was customary when seeing a Lord of his status. He didn't pay her any mind as he answered her sudden question.

"In the mornings, he tends to watch the great sun rise and think in our gardens; he prefers solitary surroundings in this place, but would not turn away company. The rest of the time, I know not." Amelia hummed and turned on her heel, throwing a quick word of thanks over her shoulder before soldiering on, looking like a mixture between a cold Lady and a charging berserker. The elves she passed leaned slightly away from her as she stomped past them, ignoring the looks they gave her.

Amelia trudged into the garden, leaving deep footprints in the soft earth and she passed Sam, who looked frightened at her expression and didn't ask her any questions about it as he continued to tend to a random batch of dying flowers. Finally, she rounded a leafless oak and found Gandalf sitting on a bench, his staff resting at his side, looking deep in thought.

"This is your doing." She hissed in a quiet voice, but one that left no doubt that she was angry, as she stomped towards him. "This, this… I shouldn't be thinking about whether I want to go home or not!" The wizard glanced up at her knowingly without seeming surprised as she ranted, approaching him before stomping away again, pacing in her frustration. "I'm not a fighter or a leader or even a particularly good friend or… whatever you want me to be. I'm none of that, nothing! Just… just plain, little old me. And you… you brought me here. You shouldn't have. This is all wrong. Everything here is just… madness, an insane delusion!" Amelia swung her arms as she paced, airing her many thoughts as Gandalf merely listened and watched. "I know that for a fact, so why am I feeling this… this crazy urge to run off into the blue, chasing a fairytale?" Amelia pointed an accusatory hand at the wizard. "You did this to me."

Gandalf continued to look at her, calmly, with those old, blue-grey eyes of his.

"Quite so. But in the end, the choice of what you want is not one that I have made for you. We never truly know where our hearts lie until the hour comes where we are forced to find out." Amelia snorted at his words and ran her fingers through her hair, hanging limply around her face.

"Yeah, well…" She didn't find a satisfactory answer and glared at Gandalf. "Fine!" She shouted the word and heard a few birds fly from their trees in shock. "I'll… think… about it. About this… insanity. But don't think for one second that this means you've won. I'm still mad at you." Amelia got the feeling that she was acting like a child, but she didn't care. She stormed away from Gandalf and could have sworn he smiled at her back as she left him sitting in the gardens, alone with his thoughts.

Under normal circumstances, Amelia would have stayed in the library for hours after such an argument, mumbling nonsensically to herself, scribbling down random things of note in the books she pulled from the tall shelves and attempting to read more than one book at once, but she was so filled with anger that she could barely read a coherent sentence, let alone an entire book. Finally, she resolved to sloppily clean up the usual mess she had made in a solitary corner of the library and venture to her chambers, where she dumped down on her bed, jumping when a loud clang came seemingly out of nowhere. Then, she saw that she had knocked her sword down from its place on her dresser and she gave it a withering look before falling back on her sky blue sheets, glancing out the open doors to her balcony. Almost everything in her chambers was a white or light blue color and thus, the dark scabbard made her sword all the more out of place as it awaited a hand to wield it.

"You stick out like a sore thumb." Amelia mumbled at it. She felt a bit relieved when the sword didn't answer her. She sighed loudly and turned onto her stomach, resting her chin on her folded arms. "And I suppose I do too."

Someone knocked softly on her doors and Amelia briefly turned her face down, so that her forehead was resting on her arms instead.

"Yeah?" She called and the door opened with close to no sound. Amelia turned back onto her back to see Arwen standing there, her hands folded and her hair flowing down her back like a gentle river.

"Are you ready?" She asked and Amelia blinked at her. Then, she looked at her sword and remembered with a moan that she was supposed to have her second lesson with Arwen around that time. She didn't look forward to it; the first had left her black and blue, from head to toe.

They sparred in an open courtyard, where anyone could see them, but Amelia didn't mind if anyone saw how truly terrible she was. She got the feeling that if someone were to tell her truthfully that she did not have a place there, leaving the beautiful valley behind might get easier than if people insisted that she wasn't completely useless.

Arwen was obviously good and graceful with a blade, but more importantly, she was a patient teacher. Amelia doubted her father had approved much of her swordsmanship, but he must have been able to see that it would be useful for Arwen to know how to defend herself. She wielded two blades at once, both shorter than Amelia's. In their first lesson, they had practiced her grip on her sword, her stance, confidence and simple parrying. Arwen opened up the second lesson by asking Amelia how well she remembered their last lesson together and practicing parrying and stance once more.

"The stance you pick up quickly, but once you must use it, you get uncertain." Arwen observed and Amelia wiped her sweaty face with her right hand. Despite her exhaustion, she insisted that they practice in the morning and late in the afternoon, before supper, and Arwen reluctantly agreed, voicing that she didn't wish to go too hard on Amelia too quickly. Something had come over Amelia though, some spirit of insistent desire to learn how to properly wield a sword. Thus, once her footwork was in order, and even that took a while, she and Arwen circled each other, six days later, as the sun slunk back to the horizon and a few, early stars had begun to hang in the dark sky.
"You don't stand still. You must be in constant motion, but do not skirt around your foe. Cover and close in. Do not limit yourself to parrying and riposting. Do not try to block. Do not attempt to be passive or stay defensive. Be audacious. Be bold." Amelia barely avoided getting a grazed cheek and rolled her shoulders. "You should not seek to win yourself range and timing by dealing them blows and feints. Seek to displace your adversary's blows with counter-strikes timed in the middle of their own actions. Merely lashing out wildly or bashing their weapon will not do. Consider your actions, but do not contemplate them." Arwen spoke gravely and Amelia understood that she fully believed that she was teaching Amelia techniques that could end up saving her life.

Amelia got the uncomfortable feeling that she was starting to believe it too.

It only made her try all the harder, but all it got her was a thudding wrist and Arwen's most sincerest apologies as she bit her lip to keep herself from swearing in front the Lady of Rivendell.

Amelia woke with a weird, numb feeling in her body. She shifted, trying to find out what was wrong, despite the fact that she knew it well enough.

The end of November was upon her.

That day she hid in her rooms and only reluctantly parted from them to train with Arwen, who seemed to know what troubled her, but did not ask any questions. She threw herself into her reading, focusing more intensely than usual, but she felt the eyes of Gandalf resting on her and she knew that he was watching her.

When she trudged up to him, her feet felt strangely light, as if she was floating and she stood before him on a nameless balcony in a hidden corner of the valley.

"One more day." She finally talked to him, sounding irritated and tired at the same time. "And then I'll decide." She didn't miss the smile, the near-smirk that spread beneath his beard and she swore lowly, beneath her breath as she walked away from him again.

The wizard watched her leave him as his smile faded and he supported his weight on his staff, having a rare moment of doubt before he pushed on in his day, leaving his murkier thoughts behind.

As Amelia rounded a corner, her thoughts swirling in her head like a hurricane, she didn't look up and thus walked straight into Aragorn, who seemed to have been thinking hard himself. Aragorn staggered, but quickly steadied himself and Amelia briefly grabbed his shoulder for support before giving him an apologetic face.

"Sorry, I wasn't really… watching where I was going. I'll just be on my way." Aragorn held a hand up to her right shoulder to gently stop her from walking away.

"Stay, please. There is much I wish to talk to you about."

Amelia eyed him wearily and noticed that she had tensed when he had held her back. His face was open, honest. She decided to trust him to be a gentlemen, since she knew that he had the potential and fate of a king as well.

"Alright. Lead the way. I talk better when I'm not sitting still." Aragorn inclined his head and walked beside her in a casual pace, back the way he came from. Amelia was thankful he didn't offer her his arm.

"I have yet had the chance to talk to you since the Council." Aragorn began in a neutral tone, but not an unfriendly one. "They say you come from a strange land, that you dress like a man and have an even fouler manner of speaking." Amelia made a low whistle.

"Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"They also say that you have a bold heart and a sharp tongue." Amelia gave him a surprised look as he continued his pace with a peaceful face, undisturbed by the looks she gave him.

"Yeah ,well… I hardly call throwing insults around and getting my ass handed to me bold." She finally answered lamely.

"You behave unusually, even for where you hail?" Aragorn seemed intrigued. Amelia shrugged and crossed her arms.

"Not… unusually, per se. More like… oh, give me words here… it's not bad behavior, its more like… frowned-on-by-grumpy-adults-behavior."

"You don't consider yourself an adult?" Amelia snorted and shrugged again.

"Depends on the situation, I suppose. I mean, I became a legal adult when I was eighteen, but sometimes I still feel like a giddy teenager. And it's not like I have my 'young-and-in-the-early-twenties-excuse' anymore." Amelia paused and sped the pace up a bit. Aragorn easily matched her again. "I guess I never really felt my age. I mean, I don't know how things roll around here, but back home I ought to be married by now, maybe even have a kid or something. Instead, I'm that lone woman who lives alone in a house with her cat and no one else around, even when she's 29 years old."

They passed a large, golden tapestry depicting a grove in the summer.

"Forgive me, but I seem unable to understand why Gandalf…" Aragorn trailed off, obviously not wanting to offer her insult and Amelia rolled her eyes.

"You don't understand why he thought it would be a good idea to bring me here when the most fighting I've ever done was with my ex." Aragorn slowly nodded and Amelia's upper lip curled in something that looked like disgust. "Yeah, you and me both, pal."

"I have yet to heard the expression 'ex' before." Aragorn started again after a long moment of silence and Amelia rolled her eyes.

"You know, an ex-boyfriend." Aragorn still looked perplexed and Amelia gave him a wry grin as she finally found the correct words to explain herself. "A former lover."

"Ah." Aragorn didn't look like he thought ill of her and her respect for the man rose a notch. "You argued?"

"If you can even call it that." Amelia found it difficult to believe that she was discussing past relationships with Isildur's heir, but found that she had been subjected to stranger things during her forced stay in an elven city. "I mean, I slapped him, he slapped me back and stormed out my door, never to be heard from again. And good riddance." Aragorn frowned, looking puzzled and a bit angered.

"He hit you?"

"Not like, all the time. It's not like it was an abusive relationship where he tied me to the bed or slapped me when I didn't make him a sandwich. And, to be fair, I did hit him first." She gave him a pointed look. "Absolute equals, remember? Most of the time, anyway." Aragorn was silent, but Amelia could see that he wasn't exactly pleased with her portrayal of her home.

"So it was a normal discussion by your standards?"

"Nah. It's not like we deal out punches left and right when we're upset. We actually almost never do that and I wasn't dumb enough to tell my brothers. Seb would just get angry and Tobias would congratulate me."

"You have brothers?"

"Mhm."

"And they would not fight him for you?" Amelia laughed loudly as she imagined Sebastian running after her exes, swinging a rolling pin over his head.

"Okay, first off, not a chance in hell I would let them. Second, Tobias couldn't win a fight against wet tissues. Third, they live in another state. We'd have to drive for hours just to see each other."

"Drive?"

"Oh, like in a… I don't know, it's kind of like a… imagine a mode of transportation that could get you from Rivendell to Isengard in little more than a day." Aragorn looked impressed with her poor describtion. "Anyways, I'm too proud to call my brothers just because I got a bruised cheek for a day and a half."

"Your homeland seems a strange place." Amelia nodded in acceptance of that fact.

"Yeah, well, imagine how I felt, getting dropped here without warning when I was taking a walk. Now that's strange for you, right there." Aragorn nodded and they continued their walk.

"The Lady Arwen speaks highly of you." He added randomly and Amelia gave him a dubious look.

"What, really?"

"She says that you offer a… fresh perspective on many things."

"Uh huh." Amelia responded dryly. "And why were you spending time with Arwen, pray tell?" She couldn't resist a grin when Aragorn glanced at her and a muscle worked in his jaw.

"Many desire her attention." He answered neutrally, without emotion. Amelia almost laughed at his expression and she clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm good at keeping secrets. Goodness knows I had to be, as a girl with her mother as the only other girl in the house. And I don't judge. I mean, I've seen weirder couples than you two in my day." Amelia grimaced. "You'll never get over seeing the school mascot snog your principal, mark my words. Anyways, please don't ask me how I know. It'll only make you paranoid. In any event, I think I'll just head to the library for now. I saw a great book about the line of Dúrin skulking in a corner the other day." Amelia skipped on ahead as Aragorn stood down to stare at her as she headed off, feeling a little better after messing with the head of one of the most important people she was ever likely to meet.

One more day turned into one more week. One more week turned into several. Amelia felt that she was stretching the hospitality of the elves beyond what she could allow herself to, but they didn't seem to mind. At the same time, the assurance from Gandalf that he could send her back to exactly the second she had left did much to calm her anger towards him, but it did not extinguish it fully.

On the 24th of December, Amelia finally felt that she reached a conclusive decision about her course of action, one that did not sit well with her, even though she would not be swayed from it. She had spent more than a month in a heavy debate with herself, homesickness warring with something she didn't want to name. It was far more time than she had ever wanted to waste, and yet she felt that it had been terribly short.

On that morning, Amelia rose with a feeling of emptiness in her chest and clad herself in all of her clothes from home. She sparred with Arwen in the early hours after breakfast, splendid as always in Lord Elrond's house, but found that she couldn't concentrate and Arwen agreed to end their match early. Amelia was torn between heading off to think and spending more time with Arwen, but found that her feet carried her in a random direction. She only noticed where she was going when the white, elegant architecture gave way to a hallway carved into the mountains around them. It was lit by torches and had a dwarven feel to it, despite the elegant smoothness of the rock and murals painted on the walls.

Amelia decided to follow where her curiosity led and, when she saw the end of the hall darken, heard the sound of rushing water. She sped up her pace and emerged out into an alcove carved out of the mountain. A waterfall created a thin wall between the large alcove and the world it lay bared before and a tall pedestal stood in the middle. The early sun cut through the wall of water, illuminating the space behind it and making it glitter in golden and soft pink colors. Since it was seen it daylight, it took some time for Amelia to realize that it was exactly the same place where Elrond had read the Cirth Ithil of the map leading to Erebor in the movies. Its likeness sent her thoughts back to the Council of Elrond and she briefly wondered why before it occurred to her.

Boromir had called the ring a gift before Gimli had shattered his axe. The movies had shown it the other way around.

Amelia crossed her arms and rested them on the pedestal, her eyebrows drawing closer together as her face scrunched in thought.

She had been able to mouth what the representatives of the Council said before they did themselves and that told her that she lived in the Middle-Earth adopted and portrayed by Peter Jackson. However, not everything seemed to match his version of events. The shattered axe, the way Boromir hadn't treated her terribly when he picked her up, the Fellowship waiting for much longer than she had anticipated before leaving Rivendell, since it had looked like only a few days afterwards at most, it all pointed towards some likeness to the books.

With a start, Amelia realized two things at once, that she had spent more than two months in Rivendell already, and that it was the 24th of December.

It was Christmas.

Amelia shook her head bitterly and chided herself. It was not Christmas, since Christmas didn't exist where she was. That thought saddened her almost as much as leaving Bruno behind.

Where had those man days spent sparring and reading gone? Amelia realized that, since her days were quite monotone, without much difference, it would seem that she had lived far fewer of them than she actually had.

She had spent two months away from her home. It was Christmas.

Amelia angrily wiped at her eyes when they began to grow damp and regained her composure in a matter of seconds. She stood up straight and rested her left hand on her sword, which still hung at her side after her lesson with Arwen. Arwen had, in her gentle generosity, gifted her with a belt to match its scabbard, a wide, dark belt with a solid silver buckle that Amelia suspected to be made by man and not the elves.

"A particular reason you're hiding in here?" A gruff voice rasped behind her and she jumped, her heartbeat taking a while to come back to normal. It was, surprisingly Gimli, resting his hands on the top of his large axe. He bore no helmet and his clothes were casual, despite the discretely hidden mail beneath it. He still didn't trust the elves.

"Did you follow me?" Amelia accused suspiciously, with narrowed eyes. She rested her weight on her left leg. She was usually good at knowing when someone was watching her in silence, but Gimli was quieter than she had expected. His heavy clothes ought to make notice of his coming from miles away and yet, he was able to surprise her.

"Aye." The dwarf nodded, his voice honest and a bit thoughtful. "I did follow you."

"And I suppose you wanted to talk to me and not just be a creepy stalker?" Amelia couldn't help her hostility. She hated people even glimpsing her in a moment of weakness. Gimli gestured towards her blade and she tensed.

"In the armory, with that elf-maiden. You spoke of staying." Amelia blinked at him. "I'd welcome your company myself, but…"

"You would do what now?" Amelia exclaimed loudly, over the sound of rushing water. "Seriously? I mean, thanks and all, but… you don't even know me." Gimli barked a loud laugh, as if he found some amusement in her declaration.

"Aye, I don't know you, but you are the type of person one wants to get to know." He talked loudly, as always, and Amelia raised her eyebrows ever so slightly at him. "Besides, you've earned my admiration, if not my respect. Or trust."

"Fair enough." Amelia gave him a grim smirk at the memory of her sharp quip in the Council. "But I don't think you came here just to compliment me."

"Nay, I didn't." Gimli took a deep breath and straightened his back, but not like he was preparing to give a speech. More like he was attempting to relax. "You're still undecided about whether you'd join us and that's fair, but your time is running short."

"I know."

"However, should you choose to accompany us, you need better training." Amelia bristled at the veiled insult to her tutor, whether it was intentional or not. "You only know how to defend yourself against swords. An axe is much different."

"I wouldn't last two seconds against you." Amelia agreed readily and the dwarf chortled.

"Should you decide you need training from a master of the axe…" Gimli's eyes twinkled merrily. "You need only say the word." He turned then, with no more words to say, and Amelia blinked in surprise, her eyebrows traveling upwards.

Gimli dwarf left her there, to brood over the latest development. The dwarf's unexpected offer of friendship was a positive surprise to Amelia, one that brought her a calm sense of happiness, though it didn't quell her already confusing feelings or provide her with a clearer course of action.
Then, finally, after a longer time than merely the one she had spent in the alcove with her own thoughts for company, she straightened her back and made off towards her chambers, feeling sorry that she was going to miss the chance for a final lesson from Arwen.

No less or more than two hours later, she tightened her belt, pulled her coat close around her and hurried towards the way out of the city of Rivendell, regret already making itself known at her decision.

Amelia only had the light of the thinly veiled moon and the stars above to guide her as she hurried out of Rivendell, with the hood of her coat pulled up around her ears, her backpack secured on her back and her sword at her hip. The sword, a whetstone and some sparse supplies were the only thing she left with that she did not already have when she came to the valley. Somewhere, in the distance, she heard the elves sing in their melodious language, but couldn't make out the words, let alone understand them.

She cursed her own weakness as she looked back, standing atop a narrow bridge over a bubbling river, at the valley of Imladris, where she had left her chambers neat and organized, without a hint that she had ever inhabited them.

She got the nagging feeling that she was making the wrong decision as she turned away from the city and walked further into the night.

She took the path leading to the left, uncertain whether it was the right one and she sped up her pace, hoping to lessen the slight pain of leaving Rivendell as quickly as possible.

She glanced up to her right at the sound of rustling leaves and saw a fat, dark bird perched upon a thin branch, eyeing her with its round, black eyes. It cawed, once, twice and then flapped its glossy wings, making the branch it had been seated on shake as it took off and vanished from Amelia's sight. She looked after it for a long moment, on the verge of turning back, but then she pressed on and left the elven city behind her, bathed in the light of the stars.