Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or Lord of the Rings.

Rating: PG

A/N: Ok, I sat down last night and decided to write this and had a lot of fun with it. I have proofread it, and had others as well, so hopefully it won't have many errors. I really appreciate the reviews by Special Agent Meg, ACforever, Lady.Of.Silver, Sim Spider, CSigurlie07, and SuzieGeorge. I hope you like this chapter, and again, please review! It helps me so much with my writing and will help me improve on the next chapter if you let me know what you like and what you don't like.

"You want me to ride that?" Ziva asked, pointing to the large gray stallion that Arwen was currently holding the reins to. The stallion dropped his head and shook it, his silvery, thick mane flopping back and forth. Finding head shaking unsatisfactory in relieving the itch on his ear, he leaned his head into Arwen's side and pushed up against her.

"Asfaloth!" she scolded, pushing his head away. She turned to Ziva and shrugged. "Yes. You need to learn somehow how to ride, Ziva, or else you won't be able to get around. What are you going to do, walk everywhere?"

"Works for me," Ziva mumbled, her eyes roaming over the deep-seated leather saddle to the stallion's grey dappled hind end and swishing tail. She had ridden a horse many times before with her uncle when she was younger, but Arabians were much smaller than this huge thing. His back was about eyelevel, and his whole body was basically pure muscle, shown by the rippling skin whenever he moved. If this horse decided he didn't want her on his back, there would be no arguing with him.

"Come on, Ziva, please? I got him all cleaned up and pretty for you." Arwen tried unsuccessfully to give Ziva a pouting lip, but on her elven-features it just looked funny.

Ziva snorted and shook her head. She had been living in Rivendell for about three months now, and had begun to realize she wasn't going home anytime soon. She had also begun to become good friends with the elf that she had so rudely attacked her first day here. The next following days had been a little rocky, the two of them expecting the other to attack them at any moment. Slowly though, the two of them had started to relax, and when Ziva had asked to participate in a training session with Arwen and her two brothers and proceeded to throw a knife dead on at a target, the two of them had hit it off. They spent the rest of the day discussing knife-throwing techniques, leading into other discussions about balance and weight. Despite Arwen's earlier façade of being what the Americans called a girly-girl, she had turned out to be more similar to Ziva than she would have thought. Growing up with two older brothers had taught Arwen how to hold her own, and in the process they had also taught her how to fight. She had welcomed the introduction of another female to talk to. Slowly she had gotten Ziva's girly streak showing through in discussing clothing and ways to take care of hair. It hadn't taken long though for Ziva to learn the extent of the wicked streak in Arwen and her twin brothers when she had woken up one morning to clucking of about five chickens that had been released into her room.

The past month, Ziva had also learned that their mother had been terribly wounded by what was referred to by them as orcs, and had passed into the undying lands, leaving her family behind. Ziva could sympathize with them, having lost her own mother when she was very young to cancer. She didn't tell them how lucky they were to still have each other though, dreading the questions that could arise from that conversation.

As the two women had grown closer too, Arwen had begun to teach Ziva a little elvish and work with her on her sword and bow and arrow skills. Arwen had been delighted to see how quickly Ziva was picking up the weapon skills, and begged Ziva to teach her some of her other languages from home as well as her "crazy ninja skills" as Tony called them after she had witnessed them in a training session.

Oh, Tony. And McGee, Gibbs, Abby, Ducky, Jenny, and everyone else at NCIS that she had begun to see as family. Especially Gibbs who had become to be a better father to her than her own had ever been. When she and Arwen had still mistrusted each other, she had gone around internally mourning the loss of her friends, refusing to let anyone else see her anguish. No one knew how to get her back to her own time since no one really knew how she had gotten there in the first place. Her friendship with Arwen and the twins, as well as everyone else's welcoming of her, had helped ease the pain, but it was still there, hidden.

Asfaloth's stomping foot brought Ziva out of her memories. Arwen now had the look on her face that said Ziva had no say in the matter any more and was going to ride her horse. Ziva sighed, rolled her eyes, and walked towards the waiting stallion. A grin spread over Arwen's face as she slid the reins back over Asfaloth's head and settled them by the saddle, lying on the thick mane.

"Ok, just grab a hold of the mane," she said, pointing to the part of the mane where she had placed the reins, "put your foot in the stirrup, and jump up."

"Oh, that easy?" Ziva said, turning to look at Arwen. Arwen gave her that look again, and Ziva grabbed a hunk of mane and lifted up her leg and slid it into the iron stirrup, which was actually pretty far up. She took a deep breath, bounced a couple of times, pushed off, and swung her leg up and over Asfaloth's broad back, finally settling into the saddle. Her other foot fished around a little while until she found the other stirrup and slid that foot in.

"See? Was that so bad?" Arwen asked as she backed away. "Ok, now walk on."

Suddenly, a wolf whistle sounded out across the small field where she was currently standing. "Looking good there Zee-vah!"

"I don't know Elladan, don't you think she should be riding one of the ponies? Asfaloth may be too much for her," an almost identical voice answered.

Ziva turned in the saddle and gave the twins the best Gibbs glare she could. After the chicken incident, she had threatened both of them with a horrible death by gutting with a spoon (thank you Tony) and had Gibbs-slapped both of them. This had shocked them for a few seconds, and then they had thought it was hilarious. They had started going around Gibbs-slapping each other whenever the other made a stupid comment or did something they thought was deserving of what they had endearingly named the "Ziva slap."

"Oo, watch out there, she doesn't look too happy."

"Yeah, we probably should take all the spoons and hide them for her for tonight, shouldn't we?"

"Hmm, good idea."

"Come on Ziva, you're on, now why don't you walk around." Arwen's amused voice reached her as she turned back around and looked out over her horse's finely tipped ears. Hey, this wasn't so bad now that she was on. She lightly closed her legs around his wide barrel, and he walked off. Ok, she remembered this now. By lightly using the reins, she guided him around the field. Asfaloth's big smooth movements were foreign to her as he almost glided, but she finally fell into the rhythm of it and began to relax. This wasn't so bad after all.

"Ok, now faster," Arwen called again. Ziva tightened her legs around the wide barrel again, and he broke into a smooth trot. A huge grin spread over Ziva's face as she felt the smooth gait carry her effortlessly around. "See! You're a natural."

After some more instructions from Arwen's part and some yelled tips from the twins, Ziva decided she had had enough for the day just as Arwen suggested she stop. She let the stallion have his head as she brought him back down to a walk, and watched his long neck stretch down and out, his mane swishing against his neck. Arwen walked over as Ziva stopped him, dropped her stirrups and swung her leg over his wide back again. She had gotten so comfortable on the bigger horse, that she had forgotten the longer drop from his back, and stumbled when her feet touched the ground, keeping herself from falling only by grabbing onto the mane.

"Very graceful, astalder," Arwen said, coming up to rub her horse's head between his eyes, grinning at Ziva who just tossed her head up in the air and refused to look at her as she patted his neck. Asfaloth started sniffing around Arwen's tunic as she stood there, trying to find some food, and lipped at the hanging fabric that draped down and fluttered loosely around her thighs.

Suddenly, the pounding of horse hooves echoed across the field as one of the sure footed elven-horses galloped over the bridge, stopping by the stables. Elladan and Elrohir both dropped their foolish grins, and walked over to the elf that dismounted.

"Orcs," he said as the twins walked up.

"Wonderful," Arwen grumbled.

End Chapter 2