Happy New Years. Auld Lang Syne.

- Old Friends -

Okay, I know what you're thinking probably; I got into some naughty stuff at the festival, if I'm not willing to share it. That's a lie. Well, according to Dallin and Annabelle it was, but that's not important… I didn't get into dirty stuff, so you mothers can stop peering over your kids shoulder with squinting eyes (that's right I'm talking to you), I just got a bit drunk, no biggy.

So maybe this hangover is a little biggy, but that's not important! What's important is me cleaning up my reputation and telling that the most I remember was maybe boring stuff and a story Annabelle told me. Why a story? I don't know, but I don't feel like writing it down in this condition. Now… time to face Dallin and all that damn embarrassing stuff he'll recount.

xXx

Now that I can hear myself thinking instead of a consistent trump-a-thunk, I think I'll do what I always do… write in this journal (because diaries just aren't as cool a title).

I've been departed from many places (Lothlorien, Mirkwood, Rivendell, Lothlorien again… funny they're a bunch of elf places), so it wasn't a big goodbye-teary-party thing (we covered the party the previous night). We got clothing and rations and a flask to put water in (we also got a vial of magical healing water, which I will come to wonder where Dallin put it…), as well as another horse (from where I do not know) and things to make a better tent (even though Dallin predicted we'd be at Ithilien before the sun sets).

The funniest thing about it all (the departing), was that when we turned to look back wistfully at the town (you know, people do that)... nothing. No town. No river. No memories or trace that anything happened, not even a broken wine glass from last night. It was… creepy to say the least. I mean, think about it. Was any of it real, you'd have to ask yourself. Well, you're not some pity puppy wounded badly, you have to remind yourself. And Dallin's still jumpy, you have to check to see. So it had to be real, your brain tells you… but your eyes tell you a different thing. Eventually you conclude you'd go mad with worry if you tried to figure out just what happened, and you'd pretend it never really mattered anyway, despite knowing it did.

I pushed the thought away with a question of time. Did the apparition town work the same way with time as everything else did? Say it was a dream, would it be the day before today, where do the borders of this magic end and begin? I wish I had a calendar, but sadly, I did not. I guess I'll have to figure it out when we get to Ithilien, where I can either ask for the date, or ask about Frodo and Sam (will there be rangers…?), both of which I'll trace back to the last date I remember; yesterday (today?), and then know which theory is correct. (Because, really, that town makes about as much sense as what the beginning of everything was.)

Since neither of us had the gall to bring up what just happened (or didn't), and the only other topic was why Dallin insists on looking so uncomfortable and paranoid, we rode in silence. Nothing unusual, my voice could use a break from singing Imagine Dragons songs (my throat remembers that from the party) anyways.

Like predicted, we didn't end up needing that pretty tent- shame- because we got to Ithilien before sundown. In fact, we got there before Frodo and Sam did, so none of the people were actually in the cave. Well… now that I think about it, they could have just left. But whatever, we got there before them. When they did get there, they had totally crashed the oliphaunt party and that little shit Gollum wasn't even there.

But I have seen the movies so… no shocker.

Sam looked terrible, Frodo even worse, and neither was happy to see me. Still no shock. But I guess they were a little preoccupied saving the world and hating me (oh, they still are pissed with me not telling them about Gandalf and Frodo wasn't there for Legolas' little speech. Dammit), so maybe I added a couple extra wrinkles there.

Faramir had to explain everything and anything and Sam's all defensive and Frodo asks why the hell I'm there… so maybe I should stop summarizing it, because it's all important and stuff.

"Dallin (I just realized how terribly un-Gondorian Dallin sounds, shoot, no going back now), I see you have made it safely… and with another." Faramir said, kind of eying me warily and all because let's face it women are kept like fish here- you rarely find one of of its bowl, nevermind travelling.

"I am Ruth," I say, giving that nice and pretty curtsey that's rather exhausting now. "I know of you, Faramir, son of Denethor." Deciding to bring Boromir's death into play a little less (or more, depending on your views) depressingly, I went in a tricky route that honestly could have bit me in the butt. "This I was told; Captain Faramir, he who helped reclaim Osgiliath."

Faramir, showing no signs of emotion other than a small downcast of the eyes, replied with the hand-kissing and words; "It is a pleasure to meet you, m'lady, but you should know the reclamation of Osgiliath was won by my brother, Boromir, not me."

"That's not what I was told," I said.

"Than whoever gave you this information was sadly misinformed themselves." Faramir said, stiffy.

"So Boromir, great son of the steward Denethor, is misinformed, you believe?" I ask, almost teasingly if not the fact I could probably die if I screwed this up.

If Faramir looked tense before it was nothing compared to now. He looked as if he either wanted to kiss or kill me- I'd prefer the former, of course. "What do you know of my brother?"

"We," I say, pointing to me, Frodo, and Sam, "Were companions of your brother, there was another of my kin, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, two other hobbits- which is what those two are, though you may know of them by the term 'halfling', their names were Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. Also in our company was a dwarf, Gimli, son of Gloin, an elf, Legolas Thranduillion, son of Thranduil, and lastly a wizard, Gandalf the Grey. He, before your brother, had… er… fallen." Sam and Frodo's glares really weren't making this easy.

So yeah I listed all the names instead of just the one I was supposed to, but I felt the others deserved a little recognition too. "Though you'll probably not remember their names, they will come in handy later on. You know your brother was sent to Rivendell- you knew what roads destiny laid for him to take. And he chose, not without reason, the road of sacrifice."

"And what, exactly, is that reason?" Faramir asked, "Tell me, m'lady, why we found his split horn, and why you bring the news that he is dead."

"Despair not, son of Denethor," I said. "Your brother fell protecting the lives of Meriadoc and Peregrin. It was a noble sacrifice, and should be honored."

"Merry and Pippin?" Frodo finally spoke up, which was good, because I was getting tired of speaking in my Galadriel tones (mysterious and probably grammatically incorrect, but it does sound very wise). "What do you mean they were taken? To where?"

Back to Galadriel-ness. "Peace, Frodo. Merry and Pippin are safe in the… branches… of ents, if not already in the care of Gandalf and the others." You're probably thinking; Way to drop the bomb, but I'm going to not screw this up. You'll see.

"Gandalf is dead," Sam spat, "No thanks to you."

"I had wished to tell you this," I frowned, "But I could not in the company of others, at the time. Gandalf the Grey did pass, and in its place became Gandalf the White. He was borne to Lothlorien, and will meet Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas in Rohan." Maybe it was Hornburg, whatever. I smiled kind of sadly then, "He had to die in order to be reborn."

"You knew exactly what you were doing," Frodo muttered. "Then why? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a human, Frodo. I'm selfish and afraid."

They still looked a little miffed about it all, but I could see they no longer wanted a Ruth-Is-Dead party. While Faramir and the others let us have our little moment, they were discussing their plans and stuff. So we were brought back into the conversation and it was said (though I knew) that we were heading towards Osgiliath. Where Faramir will not get brutally wounded (not the second time either if I have a say in it- which I probably don't).

But we weren't going until later, because it would soon be night, and night was kind of dangerous at this point. So was day, but night more if travelling without sneak attacking.

Wait a second we were travelling with sneak attacking some captain of the guard he is.

xXx

Since Dallin was around my age and the youngest (second youngest?) of the people in the cave, he and the hobbits hung out with me for the rest of the night (until Frodo had to go up and get that stupid Gollum thing). Besides, Dallin doesn't know the heck was going in the gossip mill (Dervorin's wife is possibly cheating on him with his brother- which I didn't know was morally possible in Middle Earth).

"So how's your delivery going?" I ask, trying to be a little subtle. They knew I knew, but I'd like to know (what).

"Not so great," Sam said.

"We got lost and had to ask for directions." Frodo said.

I narrowed my eyes, "I see. And your tour guide? He looked quite under the weather from what I recall."

"I think he wants the package for himself," Sam muttered, not loudly enough for Frodo to hear.

"He found an umbrella." Frodo stiffly said. So Middle Earth has umbrellas unlikely.

"Seriously guys even if you weren't talking in code I don't think I'd know what you were saying." Dallin huffed. Sorry Dallin.

The rest of the day was simple; mostly talking or some variation of that. I told the story that was told to me at that town I'm that not really sure if it exists or not. But I really don't feel like writing it down, because I'll do it some other time if the small plan I'm formulating works (if it doesn't… too bad). We also sung a few hobbit songs (no, actually, Dallin tried to sing Gondor songs and then Sam and Frodo upstaged him).

Then Dallin cheekily asked me to sing Radioactive.

A bitch is going to die today.

I admit that I did start this story in 2013, both of them (original and rewrite), I believe. But now it's come and gone and passed, just as 2014. Increadible speed time has, it seems to fly upon the wings of love and joy, burdened to the Earth by sorrow and bitterness... but I am being all too philosophical, and you'd much rather I wish you jouyous new years and that, correct? Truth being said, it matters not whether you cared for my over-excited attitude, because I will wish to you all a prosperous coming year, and many, many happy days along with it!

Furthermore I'd like to make yet another shout out to those who've enlightened my past year;

arknox443275 - for friendship that is true, and heartship that is fair, I wish you the most pleasent of all years, may you rid yourself of sickness soon.

Tintcalad - raise us a glass of butterbeer, and shall we toast to the coming days! Lest your cats get taken away! (THEY BETTER NOT)

lotrharrypotter3 - though you've already gone into 2015, I still wish you the best of things! May weather and such fall pleasently to your home, and may we stay in touch the coming year!

Not that you other guys haven't enlightened anything; you have. You've meant so much to me. You've been supportive and kind and all the while skeptic of my inane ramblings and plot ideas, you've constructed this story just as much as I have made it, and I don't know how many time I shall feel compelled to thank you, or wish you a good next year.

Festivity and love!

-Olympia