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If You Only Knew
Evening had fallen upon Rivendell as Drifter knelt next to the grave stone. The statue on top of the tomb was in the shape of a man, while the tomb itself was separated from the others behind a large willow tree. The inscription on it read,
"Arathorn: Herven, ada, mellon, ar' ohtar. Osta en' i' Anoron en' Apanonar. Lotesse i' rina en' ho tella ten'oio. (Husband, father, friend, and warrior. Defender of the Dawn of Men. May the memory of him last forever.)"
"NO!!!" the woman cried as Arathorn fell from an orc blow. Her desire for revenge fueled her while she cut down the remaining three orcs and ran to her leader lying on the ground.
"…lyn…" His voice was barely audible when he addressed the girl. "You…have to promise me one thing."
"No, you are not giving me final requests and you will not be doing it for many years to come. You still have to see your wife and son." She frantically scrambled for the healing herbs and bandages in her small bag, but Arathorn stopped her, grabbing her wrist.
"There is nothing you can do for me, child."
"You can't die! I need you! Aragorn, Gilraen, and all of Middle-Earth needs you!"
Blood stained the man's jerkin from an obviously mortal wound.
"Child, you…must promise me that you will…see that Aragorn takes Gondor's throne. Whatever happens, Gondor must once again have a king. I know that it will be difficult, but I have faith in you."
With tears flowing down her cheeks, the woman replied,
"Yes…my lord."
"Please, call me something other than 'my lord' or 'sir'. It gets annoying after a while."
The woman softly laughed as she held the dying leader's head in her lap and brushed the hair out of his face.
Drifter turned towards the slight rustling in the bushes nearby. With the complete silence, her hearing had become more sensitive, she realized, as Elrond stepped into the cemetery some fifty feet away, probably hoping to have some serious talk to convince her of how foolish she was. When he looked in her direction, the girl snuck out of the area and ran to her house.
--
An hour had passed since Drifter's visit to the cemetery and she was packing the few essentials she would require: a few days emergency rations of food and water was all she needed to pack herself since Bill the pony would be carrying most of their food; plus bandages, needle and thread, and a length of mythril rope. It had been given to her by the dwarves of the Blue Mountains a year before as gift for eliminating a beast which had haunted them for years, although the "beast" had only been three strangely mutated orcs. Her other necessities, herbs, a multi-purpose cloth, and flint, she placed in the belt pouch. As she began repairing a rip in her ranger garb, Aragorn walked in.
"I had to question nearly a dozen people before an elf-maiden…Miluiel, I believe her name was, instantly gave away the fact that you had a house here," he said with a slight smile.
"I'm going to have to have a talk with that girl at some point," Drifter responded, finishing her work and setting the clothing aside.
"You are the strangest woman I have ever met. Both Lord Elrond and Gandalf trust and defend you. Gandalf even sent you to help me without saying anything to anyone but you. Not only that, but so far, I have heard you called by three completely different names. You call yourself Drifter, Elrond calls you Falathiel, and Arwen designates you as Lyn. Who are you? How did you know me? Why is everyone so unclear in talking about you?"
"You ask many questions for a ranger, Aragorn."
"And you display far more knowledge than I would expect."
"Did you think that I was a petite, naïve woman with no knowledge of the world?"
"Oh, no…I just meant…never mind."
"I thought so. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to rest prior to our journey tomorrow," she finalized, trying to get the man out of her dwelling before he asked too many questions.
"As you wish."
When Aragorn was finally out the door, the woman snuck outside and waited until he was out of sight before slipping away to the bridge.
The woman stood on the bridge, looking out at the water. It was so peaceful. The water did not have to worry about the troubles of the world. It did not feel sadness or pain. It just kept going, completely oblivious to the sorrow surrounding it.
"My lady?" a soft but manly voice addressed her.
Turning to the blond-haired, tall elf, the woman replied,
"Yes, my lord?" The elf was extremely handsome. His eyes were kind and gentle and he carried himself with great dignity.
"You look as if you need company…that, and Lord Elrond suggested it."
"He has been unnecessarily worried about me since I came here, but I might as well play along. Im Drifter, nan' Arwen ar' Miluiel essa amin Lyn (I am Drifter, but Arwen and Miluiel name me Lyn)."
"Im Legolas, Ernil en' Mirkwood (I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood)."
"Well, if these introductions are supposed to be formal, I am a ranger of the north."
"This is the second or third time I have seen you here, Falathiel," Gandalf stated, approaching Drifter on the bridge. "You clearly have some sort of attachment to it."
Rolling her eyes, she replied,
"Fine, I admit it, I am having a difficult time dealing with the fact that Legolas is no longer mine."
"Do you still have the ring he gave you?" the wizard asked.
"Don't you think that it would be the last thing I parted with?" the girl answered sadly. "I know that he does not even remember me, but there is a part of me that will not let go…at least not yet. I loved him too long for that."
"I understand…now, consider getting some rest before this venture you've thrown yourself into."
--
The ranger arose just before dawn. There was one place she wanted to visit before leaving. For some reason, she had the feeling that she would never again set foot in Rivendell; of course, it was nothing surprising as she was going on a journey that would most likely end with disaster. Drifter was glad to find that the room in which the shards of Narsil were held was empty. Her boots made no noise as she approached the pedestal. One day, she would keep her promise and see that sword reforged in Aragorn's hand. Then, she would be free to cease her wandering. Presently, the time was approaching when she would have to either keep her promise or die trying. Aragorn was the rightful king and nothing but death was going to stop her in seeing him take the throne.
"Lle ier il i' ere' taur'ohtar, Lyn (You are not the only ranger, Lyn)," Arwen said, approaching Drifter.
"But not all rangers have to bear the burden that I carry. Arwen, what would you have me do? I promised that I would be responsible for putting Aragorn on the throne, not another. Would you have me go back on my word…disobey his last request?!"
"No, Lyn," the elf quietly responded. "But there are those who could help."
"I'm sorry, Arwen, but it is my burden to bear."
"Very well…Now, since I don't want this to end as an argument, I want to wish you luck on your mission…both of them."
"Thank you. I will miss you."
The two friends embraced each other and began walking side by side back towards Drifter's house.
--
(Aragorn)
As he stood next to Gandalf at the south gate waiting for the rest of their party, Aragorn asked the old wizard,
"Gandalf, why are you so secretive about Drifter?"
"What do you know of her so far, Aragorn?"
"I have learned that she is extremely intelligent and capable."
"That is the first thing most people note about her," the wizard said with obvious humor in his voice. "Ah, here she is."
Drifter walked towards them looking almost exactly as she had when Aragorn had met her, except that she was clean. She was wearing a dark maroon, long sleeve dress with a skirt that reached her shins. The thigh-high split on the skirt revealed that she was wearing black leggings underneath it. The dress's torso was tight enough to confirm that she had a particularly slim waist above shapely hips. Her small form was covered when she pulled her full-length maroon cloak around herself. Drifter's hair was tied back with a string of leather, however her ears were oddly still covered.
"Am I that interesting to stare at, my lord?" she asked with a small smile as Aragorn caught himself studying her.
"He is simply not used to your unique ways, Falathiel," Gandalf cheerfully told the girl.
"And what is so unique about me?" she once again questioned. "I am a ranger. I wear ranger clothes, act like a ranger, and do all the usual things a ranger does, which is wander. My weapons are a sword given to me by my deceased trainer and five matching daggers from my mother. I would have a bow and arrows, but there is the slight problem of having lost them some time ago. So, what is so unique about me?"
"Nothing, dear girl." Gandalf seemed almost too amused in talking with the woman. He acted as if she was an old, dear friend.
After the rest of the fellowship had finally arrived, Elrond addressed them. Aragorn's gaze found Arwen.
(Drifter)
"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid, to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you."
"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer," Gandalf said. Frodo went through the gates, closely followed by Gandalf; then Gimli, Pippin, Merry, Legolas, Sam with the pony, and Boromir. Securing the small bag onto her back and over her cloak, Drifter prepared to walk out, but she stopped as she saw Aragorn making eye contact with Arwen. Though they found hardship through their differences in race and other such things, they at least still had their love for each other, with no fear the other being unfaithful. As he stalked off, Drifter found the princess watching her.
"Caer ho varna ten' amin, Lyn (Keep him safe for me, Lyn)," she quietly said.
"As you wish, my lady," Drifter replied.
-Perfect! Now I've promised to protect two of my friends' lovers, one of which I have loved for years myself-
The ranger trotted after Aragorn who had just turned the corner.
--
From their departure until their noon break, they made considerable progress. Drifter had no wish to shun Legolas, but she automatically sat next to Aragorn, watching Boromir teach Merry and Pippin how to fight.
"Move your feet!" Aragorn advised while smoking his pipe. Drifter was using one of her daggers to whittle a chunk of red wood.
"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not," she faintly heard Gimli complaining to Gandalf, "I'd say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."
The girl felt that something was wrong, but she shook it off after seeing that Aragorn was showing no alarm.
"Aaah!" Pippin cried when Boromir accidently nicked him in the hand.
"Sorry," the Gondorian said, only to have the hobbits playfully attack him and tackle him to the ground. The two rangers stood and walked over to the mock battle.
"Gentlemen, that's enough," Aragorn chided, only to have his legs pulled out from under him by Merry and Pippin. Drifter soon became the target of the hobbits' yanking.
"Pippin! Stop it!" she cried out, although she could not help by laugh. Following a few moments of the ruckus, Boromir helped Drifter stand. She was still slightly giggling as she looked into his crisp brown eyes which seemed to see into her very core. Their little staring contest was interrupted as everyone looked at what appeared to be a wisp of cloud.
"It's moving fast," he noted, "…against the wind."
"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas called.
"Hide!" Aragorn ordered as everyone ran to erase any evidence of their being there.
"Hurry!" Boromir shouted, pulling Drifter into a bunch of bushes with him. The Crebain surrounded the rocks for a moment before flying off, cawing as they went. Gandalf was the first to come out of hiding.
"Spies of Saruman," he stated. "The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." Drifter realized that she was still holding Boromir's hand from when he had pulled her down and quickly released her grip to go grab her bag.
-It's too soon. Drifter, you just lost one lover! At least give it some time before you leap for the first man who woos you!-
An hour later, they were climbing up a steep, snow-covered hill. Drifter noted that their formation had changed slightly since leaving Rivendell, although Boromir, Aragorn, and herself were still at the back. Suddenly, Frodo came rolling towards the rangers, probably having lost his footing. After catching the hobbit and helping him stand, all three realized that the Ring was no longer on Frodo's neck. Drifter relaxed slightly, though, when Boromir picked the Ring up from the ground some fifteen feet up the hill. But, something was wrong.
"Boromir," both rangers warned.
"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt…over so small a thing. Such a little thing," the Gondorian wondered reaching with his other hand to touch it.
"Boromir!" Once again the rangers spoke in unison, which Drifter would have normally found quite funny, though the situation was far from it.
"Give the Ring to Frodo," Aragorn finished with a warning in his voice.
"As you wish," Boromir relented, handing the Ring to Frodo, who quickly snatched it. "…I care not."
Drifter noticed that her hand was on the hilt of her sword and let her sword arm fall back to her side while Boromir resumed climbing.
-It's Boromir! Not some weak-minded commoner! But he's still a Man…oh, he couldn't…but he can-
Drifter's inner battle continued as the group went on with their trek.
(Legolas…By the way, for all readers…I'm not trying to make Legolas look bad or seem like a bad character, but he just seems too nice in the movie…don't worry, it gets better)
They were soon on the mountain…a narrow, snowy ledge of it to be exact. The elf lightly walked on top of the snow while the others ahead of him waded through it. He had temporarily gone to the back of the group. When he looked ahead, the woman's step strangely seemed lighter than the others when she accidently stepped in a spot not already trudged through. Though the wind and snow made everyone else hide in their cloaks, she calmly walked on with her hood down, staring straight ahead. From the moment he saw her upon his arrival in Rivendell, when all he saw of her was her golden hair as she had walked away from the spot in view of the east gate, something had seemed different about Drifter, Falathiel, or whatever her name was. His reverie was broken as Legolas heard a faint voice in the distance.
(Ok, back to Drifter)
The woman felt as if someone was watching her. She turned around, but only found Legolas staring into the blizzard ahead as he passed her up. Still, something told her that the elf had been watching her since the feeling had left instantly after she looked back.
"There is a fell voice on the air!" the elvish prince stated, now from the front.
"It's Saruman!" Gandalf called out just as large chunks of snow, ice, and rock came crashing down the hill, forcing them to take refuge against the cliff wall.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn put in. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"
"No!" the wizard stubbornly replied before chanting back at the other voice. "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith! (Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!)"
-It's not working!-
All of a sudden, an even larger amount of snow and ice crashed down and covered the Fellowship. Drifter instantly struggled for the surface, achieving her goal after a moment of nearly being smothered by the snow. The others began popping up soon after. The hobbits were shivering uncontrollably, so the ranger risked walking over to Frodo and draping part of her cloak over him while rubbing his shoulders to keep him warm. Her feet barely sank through the snow, but she was glad that the others were preoccupied for the most part.
"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir was saying. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn countered.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain," Gimli haggled, "let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Drifter could see fear written all over Gandalf's face.
"Let the Ring-bearer decide," he ordered. Meanwhile, the hobbits' lips were turning blue.
"We cannot stay here!" Boromir warned. "This will be the death of the hobbits!"
"Frodo?"
"We will go through the mines," the halfling stated.
"So be it."
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