(AN: And so we forge ahead once again into this epic tale. There's a scene from the book which I've added in here. Oh, and if you're wondering who Elphaba reminded Galadriel of, it is Feanor, the forger of the Silmarils, who was her distant cousin...I believe. Anywho, enjoy.)

The Great River

A time soon came when the Company was ready to depart. After Aragorn and the others had spoken some time with the elf-lord Celeborn, they made ready to depart Lorien.

A few days later, Lord Celeborn and several elves came to the Company bearing gifts. They had cloaks of a pale gray, similar to those which Haldir and the elven guards wore, which they presented to the Company. They were clasped at the throat with a single brooch made in the shade of a green leaf with silver veins.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people." Celeborn said to them. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes." Elphaba noticed that he was looking at Boromir while he spoke.

The elf-lord then pulled Aragorn aside for a private word, while the other elves led the Company to the bank of the River Anduin. Here there were several boats prepared for the company, along with packs of a strange kind of food wrapped in leaves. Elphaba and Glinda watched the preparations from the side of the river bank.

"Good thing you're not allergic to water, Fae." Fiyero said with a smile, walking up behind the greener of the two ladies.

"Keep that up, Yero, and you'll find yourself swimming after us." she threatened, though they knew it was hollow. She then turned to look at her lover. He was clad in his new Elvish cloak, and Elphaba had to suppress a twinge of green-blue blush as she admired how much the simple Elvish cloak had magnified his features.

"You're looking fine yourself, Fae." Fiyero said to her, which sent a blue-green blush into the green woman's face.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Glinda almost squealed. "Look at this!" She showed off the gray-blue elvish robe they had given her, now girt at the waist with a belt of silver (was it silver as Elphaba knew it, or was there mithril in it as well?), and wearing boots of a matching white color.

"It's a shame they have nothing pink here." Glinda said with a slight pouting face. "But these robes are gorgeous. Ugh, but I hate these shoes!"

"Glinda, we're on a journey here." Elphaba said. "It's impractical to be wearing those glass slippers of yours."

"But, I mean, these boots, they're like yours!" she said with a disgruntled sigh. "And why can't we just come and go by bubble?"

Elphaba laughed.

"Seriously." Glinda said. "I bet it would make getting to that Mordor-place so much easier."

"That's the reason we can't." Fiyero said. "It's too easy."

"Whoa, this is new." Elphaba said.

"I've been hob-nobbing around with Aragorn and the elf-lord." he said, with a little swell of pride in his chest. "They've told me a little about our situation."

"Well, this is a first for you." Elphaba said.

"What?"

"Thinking on your own, trying to know more about what's going on than me."

"What do you expect? I want to be useful."

"Oh, me too!" Glinda said with an all-too familiar sickly-sweet gasp.

Just then, they saw the two younger Hobbits open one of the packages and start pulling out these golden-brown wafer-like things and eating them.

"Hey, don't eat all of it." Elphaba admonished.

"Oh this?" Merry asked.

"But we're hungry!" Pippin complained.

"Haven't you eaten already?" Elphaba asked.

"Oh yes, but that was just breakfast." Pippin said matter-of-factly. "In the Shire, we have at least three breakfasts before lunch, a bite for afternoon tea and then dinner and supper."

"Sweet Oz, don't you ever stop eating!" Glinda asked.

"Seriously," Fiyero added. "I eat a lot, but seven meals?"

The Hobbits payed them no mind and continued diving into the wafers until one of them elves gave them a scathing look. Then they sealed up the bag and tried to act like nothing happened.

There were four boats prepared for them. In the first boat sat Aragorn, Frodo and Sam. A second bore Boromir, Merry and Pippin and the company's gear, the third bore Legolas and Gimli, and the last had the three Ozians. Fiyero was the only one in the boat who knew how to row one, for, though Elphaba was not allergic to water, she never really knew how to row a boat.

As they set out upon the river, passing under the eaves of the land of Lorien, a great ship in the likeness of a swan rose up to meet them. Upon its bow, they saw, the Lady Galadriel stood. They steered their boats to the shore, where the Lord and Lady left the boat and led the company to the side of the river, where food was prepared for them.

After they had eaten and drank, the Lady presented the Company with several gifts. These were things that they were sure to use in their journey. She spoke first with Aragorn separately, then made her way down until at last she spoke with Frodo separately. After these had been given their gifts, she stood before Fiyero.

"Mae govannen, prince of the golden plains." she addressed him. She presented to him something wrapped in a black cloth. "This belonged to Gil-galad, the King of my people, when he bought peace to Middle Earth with his life by joining the Last Alliance against the Dark Lord. It will guide you down the darkest path you may ever take."

Fiyero bowed, said his thank you and clutched the bundle tightly, wondering whatever could be in there. Galadriel then stood before Glinda.

"I would that you stay in Lorien a little while longer," she said to the little blond woman. "and enjoy the beauty of our forest. For the time of the Elves is at an end, and all that you see will soon pass away."

"Thank you, Milady," Glinda said. "But I made my choice. I'm going with my friends."

"And well chosen," the Lady said with a smile. "But your journey will be no easier than theirs, and you must be prepared to cast down whatever enemy besets you." She then brought forth a sturdy staff of white wood, similar to the bark of the mallorn trees.

"Staves like these are born by the healers and sages of my people," the Lady said. "Use it well, and be the strong foundation as the coming storm breaks upon the world."

Glinda nodded and accepted the gift with both hands. Fiyero and Elphaba half-expected her to go giddy with it, but the presence of the elf-queen made her strangely somber.

"And to you, Elphaba, I would speak with you a moment...alone."

Elphaba nodded her head and followed the Lady Galadriel off a little ways, where she spoke with her aside from the others.

"I cannot see where your path lies," the Lady began in Sindarin, though Elphaba found she could understand the language, as clearly as if it were Common (or Ozian, as it is known in her world). "But, for the foreseeable future, the path of the Ring-bearer, with whom you have set your course, can only lead to darkness and despair."

"Milady, I know something of the dangers that lie ahead." Elphaba answered. "I have spoken with Elrond of Rivendell..."

"Then you know the peril into whose jaws you have so lightly cast your life." the lady finished.

"It doesn't matter to me." Elphaba said, choking back tears. "At the Council of Elrond, I decided to do good and I stand by my choice."

The Lady nodded. "Do you know the story of Earendil?"

Elphaba shook her head.

"It is a long tale, whose ending has not yet come to pass." she began. "In the Elder Days, the Valar made two trees to light the world. But the darkness poisoned and devoured those trees. Many thousand years ago, before your world was ushered into being, my kin Feanor created three shining stones: the Silmaril.

"In these he sought to capture some memory of the light of the two trees. But the enemy coveted the Silmaril and took them from him by force. Beren, the mortal whose path Aragorn has chosen to travel, stole a Silmaril from the crown of Morgoth, and in time, it passed down to Earendil, who took it with him into the West.

"Today, Earendil is but a star."

All the while she listened to the story, Elphaba felt enchanted, as if she were carried back into ancient times and saw Beren and Luthien, disguised as a warg and a draugr, entering the grim citadel of Angband, and where Beren cut the Silmaril from the crown of the sleeping Morgoth. The lady's final words seemed to bring the green woman back into the waking world.

"It's light I captured in my fountain, and poured it into a crystal phial. This I gave to Frodo..." The lady extended one of her long, slender white hands, which, to Elphaba's surprise, held a similar glass like the one she had given to Frodo.

"...and its twin, I give to you." she said, almost in a whisper.

"But why?" Elphaba asked, almost speechless.

"You choose to walk a path of darkness, and therefore must needs have a light." the lady said, with mirth in her voice. "But this will be more than just a light. It's full purpose will be revealed in time, and when you least expect it." The lady put her hand on the green woman's shoulder in a gesture of friendship.

"Namarie, Calenwen." she said.

("Calenwen" is a Sindarin word for "green maiden.")

The green woman bowed her head and then rejoined her companions.

After these gifts had been given, the Fellowship returned to their boats and cleaved their way through the river.

Lorien receeded in the distance like a haze of golden light.

Several weeks passed by of traveling by River. They would travel all day and then sleep at night. Not because of safety, for they could be easily spotted during the day as in the darkness, when the orcs of Mordor were unhindered by the sun as they would have been at daylight. Mostly because they had not night-eyes, and therefore could not risk a mishap at night.

Furthermore, Aragorn, the now-leader of the Company, reminded them that many other dangers existed along the River. The greatest of which being the rapids of Sarn Gebir, from whence no boat had yet survived. Moreover, there was one last obstacle in their way.

The Falls of Rauros.

Elphaba had not been idle while in Rivendell. She studied over the maps and made sure that she knew at least a superficial knowledge of the landscape.

According to the maps in Elrond's library, the River Anduin, which was carrying them now, flowed down many leagues until it came to the Falls of Rauros, where it tumbled away into the marshy Wetwang and snaked its way further southward until it came to the Sea.

After several weeks of travel, even the air-headed Glinda could sense disagreement stirring within the Fellowship. This stemmed from a stalling of the decision for the Fellowship's ultimate fate. They were now without Gandalf, and leadership was now thrust onto the shoulders of Aragorn, who didn't even have the guts to reconcile with his ancestors and take up his rightful place as the King of Men.

They were in trouble.

One night, Fiyero was over with the Hobbits, enjoying a late dinner. Glinda was too tired out from the trip and so had fallen asleep. Elphaba noticed Aragorn and Boromir over by the boats, staring out at something floating upon the water. Legolas had first-watch, and Gimli the Dwarf was busy with the Hobbits and their food.

The green-woman, however, was eager to hear what the two Men were talking about.

"...if he alerts the enemy to our presence, it will make the crossing more dangerous." Boromir said. Aragorn then walked back to the supplies to take stock while the Gondorian captain walked after him. "You know my suggestion. Let us leave these cockle-boats and head south. Minas Tirith is the safer road: from there we can bolster our forces, strike out at Mordor from a position of strength."

"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us." Aragorn replied, not even looking Boromir in the eyes.

"You were quick enough to trust the Elves," Boromir shot back, offense rising in his voice. "Do you have so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness, there is frailty: but there is strength also. But you will not see that." Elphaba was astounded by Aragorn's reserve.

Boromir, however, was only angered more. Taking the Ranger by the shoulder, he tried to force him to respond.

"You're afraid! All your life you've hidden in the shadows, scared of who you are, of what you are!"

Elphaba was no fool. She knew exactly what Boromir was talking about. She was there at the Council of Elrond and heard that Aragorn was actually the heir of the throne of Gondor. What Boromir had done was to insult Aragorn's courage by calling him a coward.

But was it cowardice, she thought? She agreed with Aragorn's choices. After all, power corrupted people, as she saw with the Wizard in Oz, or even with her sister. Only a fool would accept power, she reasoned. It was good for him to deny that, to remain pure and uncorrupted, down to earth and more in-tune with the real issue.

And she knew what the real issue behind Boromir's suggestion was.

So did Aragorn.

"I would not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of the White City!" he returned to the Gondorian. His voice was low, but there was no joking in his words.

Elphaba agreed with him. Already, she felt, the power of the Ring was at work, even in the Fellowship.

She noticed that she began to feel its presence more and more. Almost as if it were a twelfth member of the Fellowship, but not one who was either wanted to welcome, just a burden: an evil burden, which sent out ripples of powerful energy so powerful, Elphaba felt as though an Elephant was stomping through their camp.

Late at night, the others were more or less asleep. Elphaba could not sleep for some reason, and so volunteered to take the watch. She was pacing about, trying hard not to look at the small bundle where Frodo was lying asleep. Just the thought of the Ring made her head ache.

Just then, the hobbit raised his curly head and saw the green woman pace about nervously.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I've got an uneasy feeling," she said, gazing across the Anduin from where she stood. "Something's not right." She then turned to him, trying hard to look at his eyes and not the Ring about his neck. "Draw your sword."

"Why, are there orcs near?" Frodo asked.

"I want to see."

To both their dismay, the blade shined a dim shade of blue when drawn from its scabbard.

"There are orcs," Frodo said, fear taking his voice.

"Not too close, but close enough." she said.

"It could just be a patrol on the other side of the River." he added.

Before she could answer, a black-feathered arrow struck the ground. Another one skipped off the large rock, just inches away from Elphaba's hand. Another one struck Frodo in the chest and bounced to the ground, the head broken.

The Hobbit was undamaged.

"Frodo!" she cried out. "Are you alright?"

By this time, the others found out what was about and rose to the alarm. Boromir ran out and brought Frodo back behind the rock, his shield up as he went. Elphaba retreated after them. Aragorn and Legolas had their bows out, ready to shoot at the first sign of movement from the other side.

"The orcs fire night arrows at us." Legolas said. It was true, not one flaming arrow fell upon the western bank.

"Their aim may be amiss," Aragorn said. "But they can see in the darkness, a thing we cannot do." He then turned to the green woman. "Elphaba, do you remember what happened in Moria? In the Chamber of Records?"

"The spell?"

"That's just what we need!" Fiyero called out.

Elphaba ran over to her bed-roll, dodging the many arrows that landed among them but failed to find their mark, and picked up the heavy tome. She laid it out and began to search for the right spell.

Then it happened.

An icy, piercing scream that ripped the night sky open.

The arrows stopped, but the Fellowship was now looking to the moon far in the eastern sky.

A great shadow of wings passed over it.

Icy talons of fear clutched at Elphaba's heart. Her hands could not turn the pages of the Grimmerie, her heart stopped, the breath in her lungs turned to a cold wind and she did not move.

"Legolas! Bring it down!" Aragorn shouted.

The elf drew out an arrow, fitted it into the bow Galadriel gave him and bent the bow greater than his older, Mirkwood weapon could have ever bent. With a cry of "Elbereth!", he let loose the shaft.

There was a flash of green just about the arrow.

And the great shadow roared in pain and faded back into the shadows of the eastern shore.

All was quiet once again.

"Is it dead?" Pippin asked from where he, Merry and Sam were crouching over Frodo.

"We can only hope so." Boromir answered.

The next morning was dull and gray, with no sign of orc or the body of the shadow of terror Legolas felled. The Company continued their way down the Anduin in silence. Elphaba insisted that Fiyero push their boat closer to the lead. She had to speak with Frodo.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Tired." he responded.

"I mean after last night," she added. "I thought you'd be dead for sure after that arrow struck you."

"Well, I'm not." he said. He reached to where the arrow had hit, and discovered something he had almost forgotten.

"Do you remember what Gandalf said in Moria about mithril?"

"It was a valuable thing, something Gimli's people killed to possess." she responded.

"Something like that," he said. "Well, my uncle gave me a coat of mithril. I had almost forgotten about it until just now. He said it was as light as a feather and as hard as dragon-scales."

"Well," Elphaba said with a smile. "I'm glad you're not hurt, and even more glad that you've got such a fine piece of armor."

Frodo nodded and smiled. Though inside, he wished he had never heard of mithril, or that he was carrying the worth of the Shire on his person. He wished he was back in his Hobbit-hole, enjoying a late breakfast, and that he had never heard of mithril, or dragons, or gold, or the Ring...

Elphaba was content with the answer and her boat fell back to the rear of the column.

One morning, long after the sun had risen, Elphaba and Glinda were fast asleep in their boat. Fiyero rowed and kept an eye out, and he was starting to nod off. Just then, he patted Elphaba on the shoulder.

"Fae, wake up." he said.

The green-skinned woman pulled herself slowly up, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

"Get a load of this." he said, pointing directly ahead.

Elphaba turned her head and saw that the river flowed through a small canyon. On either side of the canyon, the rocks were carved in the likeness of two great statues, both wearing crowns, swords in their belts and their hands lifted up and pointing outwards in a sign of rejection.

"What are they?" she asked.

Apparently it was loud enough to be heard by the nearest boat.

"They are the Pillars of the Argonath." Boromir said. "They bear the likeness of the kings of Gondor: Anarion and Isildur. Here marks the end of the Northern Lands."

The green-skinned woman noticed that he was rather edgy, and did not look directly at her when he spoke.

Once they passed the Argonath, they came upon a place where the River became wide, separated by a single island in the center and two high hills on the eastern and western banks. The roaring of a great waterfall meant only one thing:

They had come to the falls of Rauros.

Now at last came the time of decision-making.

The fate of the Fellowship would be decided.

(AN: Here we are. I added in that little piece about Frodo's mithril shirt because, in Fae's version, Elphaba uses the Grimmerie to slay the goblins and trolls in the Chamber of Records in Moria and therefore, we don't get the whole scene with Frodo getting hit. Am almost finished with the last bit. Thinking about making TTT a whole separate story altogether. Review please :)