Disclaimer: I don't own LoTR. I wish I did, though.

Rain Shall Pass.

Chapter F.I.V.E.

_"Choose"_

"Choose your words carefully. They reveal your inner character." -Kim George

I loved music. From a young age, I knew I was enamored with it. I loved the sound of it. The beat. The emotions. The satisfaction of finally nailing a hard measure. The harmony of a perfectly pitched chord. Everything about music, I loved. I was passionate enough to the point that it was going to become one of my double majors. I firmly believed it would always be part of my life until the day I died.

I was lucky to have supportive parents and a sister who encouraged my dream despite knowing that a musical career wasn't exactly a money-maker, but knew that it made me happy and decided that money wasn't going to be a factor.

"My little girl will be successful," My father had bragged one day after a successful music lesson. "I can see it now." Mom had merely nodded and proceeded to squeeze the life out of me with my sister beaming beside our dad. She had only been five at the time, but she understood that we were celebrating and that was enough cause to be happy.

Instrumental was where I truly shined as a musician, but I knew from my lessons that being well-versed vocally would do me a world of good, too. Despite my family not being terribly rich, my parents spared no expenses enrolling me in voice lessons on top of my normal lessons. I didn't have a Disney princess worthy singing voice, but my teachers were ever so proud with my progress and they never failed to say so to my parents. They were endlessly proud of me.

My sister was my guinea pig in the beginning, sitting there quietly as I practiced what I learned that day and telling me in that blunt way a child does what she thought about it. She didn't like how shaky my higher register was, but she loved my mid to lower range.

"You sound like the pretty singer from that Disney movie!" She's giggled one night. Confused, I asked her which one as most of the Disney songs we listened to were all in a higher pitch that I was capable of properly hitting. She grinned. "The one from the second Lady and the Tramp movie!"

I could only laugh obnoxiously when I realized what she was talking about.

Her singing voice was something he'd never heard before.

Her back was turned to him, her shoulders shifting as she worked whatever was in her hands. Red hair was piled high on her head, a black ribbon standing out starkly against the strands that escaped the mess of curls. The dark lines that he could barely see on her neck were visible and were always a source of mystery to him. He'd never asked her what they were, though the curiosity never failed to course through him.

He knew now was not the time to ask her what they were. She was still mad at him if her avoidance was hint enough.

She sung in that strange language, the words caressing his ears in a strange cadence and sent shivers down his spine. It was slow, the words long and dragged out, no where near what the elves sang around their fires and at festivities. It didn't sound mournful and sad, but as he couldn't understand what she was saying, he couldn't be sure. He hoped it wasn't sad. The guilt would eat him alive more so than it already was.

Withholding a sigh, he leaned even more of his weight against an arch, silently watching over her. It was all he was allowed to do right now.

"I see Gwathren is still mad at you." Elladan appeared at his side, arms crossed loosely and a neutral expression plastered on. "Don't you have a meeting to get to soon?"

"Soon," Aragorn agreed. "I have time still." He chuckled lowly. "You still call her that?" He remembered the day Elrohir bestowed the fond nickname to the then sullen girl. She'd had no idea what he'd called her, so she could only blink in confusion and helplessly wonder what had been said.

"It suits her," Was all Elladan said.

He cast a glance around. "Elrohir is not with you?"

Elladan motioned behind him. "He was needed elsewhere. He would've been here with me, otherwise."

Aragorn's shoulders scrunched upwards, rolling them back. When had his brother ever been so short with him before? The silence that ensured was awkward and not at all normal for Aragorn and Elladan.

"You're not gonna say anything?" Elladan asked calmly. Grey eyes cut to him. "You're acting like there's something you wish to say."

The sigh Aragorn had tried stopping earlier made an appearance. Of course his brother knew. Whether he heard it from the girl studiously ignoring him or the love of his life, he knew. It also meant Elrohir knew and he was suddenly grateful his other brother wasn't here. Dealing with one tongue-lashing was easier than two. He was old enough to no longer need one, but after the previous night, he had known it was coming. He prepared himself for the battle ahead of him. "She does not wish to speak to me right now. I wish only to respect her wishes."

Elladan huffed a laugh. "Gwathren can hold a grudge, Estel, as I'm sure you're aware. You're doing the right thing by respecting her space, but do not delay too long. You could be called away for years and years once again and then what will you do once you return to find she has been long gone on her own journey and you two cannot make amends?"

He snapped towards his brother, eyes wide. "She is leaving?"

Elladan expected his nails idly, nodding. "She is. Her sister is still missing, Estel." He gave his younger brother a sharp look. "You did not expect her to just sit here forever while her only family remained lost, did you?"

Yes, in fact, Aragorn did expect that.

He could count on one hand how many women he'd met in his life who would fearlessly run into the vast world with little regards to their safety and he could reluctantly add Asherah to that count. He'd known since that first day in the woods, her sharp tongue with her foreign language spewing wildly from her lips and her equally foreign eyes wide and scared but still ever so brave and determined. He'd known when she threw herself into her lessons with Lindir, watched as she slowly began to trust Tobrien, himself, Lord Elrond, and Lindir despite her initial wariness, how she ignored the looks she'd get from visitors, and especially how she had no fear saying what needed to be heard.

But she was too compassionate. Too kind. Too caring to go against the world that was just waiting to tear her apart. He feared she wouldn't survive out there, whether she be slain by some grotesque creature of Sauron's or if she lost the will to live for continuously being silenced by the people. She wouldn't last.

He'd tried secretly to look for her sister. He tried in every spare moment he had to look for a girl that had to have the same red hair, the same multi-colored eyes, and the same underlying accent. He used every source available to him, listening in on conversations at pubs and lodgings, sending out some of his most trusted men to the corners of Arda to search in the miscreant villages, sending word to the crazy warlock, Radagast, and the powerful wizard, Saruman, along with Aragorn's great friend, Gandalf. Nothing ever came back.

He wondered if maybe Asherah had been mistaken. That she had imagined her sister being with her, but he always dismissed that thought as soon as it came. She was too adamant, too sure that her sister had been there, thus he forced himself to firmly believe that her sister had been with her. He hated to see how heartbroken Asherah continues to be over a sister who wasn't by her side.

He wished he could do more for a girl who was lost in a home that wasn't hers and had every right to be angry and cruel, but instead showed her hidden kindness and teasing smiles to the people who gave her the time of day.

"When is she leaving?" He asked quietly.

"Very soon," Elladan said, piercing the girl in question's back with a fond gaze. "Elrohir and I have been giving her combat lessons for a couple days now." Elladan smiled at the choking sound Aragorn made. "She is a natural. Very fast, agile, though she is struggling to utilize that to her advantage."

"You've been teaching her to fight?" Aragorn hissed, angry at his brother for reasons he could not pin. "Then that means she is to leave alone?"

Elladan turned fully to his little brother, giving him the full brunt of the disapproving look in his eyes. "We will not be the ones to keep her tied down because she is a woman, Aragorn," He said firmly. "If it had been anyone else, Elrohir and I would've sought council from our father, but because it was Gwathren, we decided it was in her best interest. She deserves this chance to do what's right for herself."

"She will not last out there by herself," Aragorn protested vehemently. "Combat training will only get her so far. She cannot kill an orc or anyone who wishes her harm with just her fists. She needs a weapon, something she does not have nor has proper training to use. You are sending her out there with no way of defending herself."

Elladan arched an eyebrow. "Asherah is not a weak women, Aragorn. I know this. You know this. We are not so incompetent that we would send her on her way unless she was fully prepared." Aragorn did not like the slow smile that Elladan gave him. "Why do you care so much? Asherah is not your own. Yes, you found her in the woods and you did provide her safe passage, but you have no obligations towards her now. She has not saved your life. She has not given you life changing advice. I have seen her do nothing for you that warrants this kind of worry."

"She is a woman," Was all Aragorn said, albeit the words sounded hollow even to him.

Elladan clapped his hands lightly, his smile more sardonic now. "And that is why she is mad at you, Estel."

"She is angry because I spoke wrongly," He argued. Maybe he was wrong, but was Elladan providing him with the same lecture Arwen had given him, albeit in a more roundabout manner? He'd expect this from his father, but not from Elladan.

"Yes, but you treat her like she is incapable," Elladan rebutted. "Asherah is new to our customs, new to how the elves run our lands and traditions. Indeed, it startled her at first, but you cannot argue that she caught on quickly. She learned at a prodigious rate, settled herself amongst us in a way that is most similar to you. She is a woman, but her heart is as strong as any blade and her will as sharp as steel."

"I did not say she is incapable," Aragorn said firmly.

"Saying that and carrying it out are two very different things," Elladan said in a cheery voice, though his eyes remained hard and unyielding. "You acknowledge that she is strong, but your words and actions are telling her that she is inferior to you. I say give her a few more years and she will best even you, brother."

Aragorn could barely find the words to say. His heart was warmed that Asherah had gained such loyalty from Elladan, that much he did know. It surprised him how close his brothers were with her. "I did not mean her any offense."

"I know you didn't," Elladan agreed easily, beckoning towards the girl who had not moved an inch, "and I imagine she does, too, but is being too stubborn to acknowledge that. You weren't careful with your words, speaking before thinking properly, and you offended her greatly by siding with the one who condemns her for something that is out of her control." He held up a hand to quiet Aragorn's protests. "I know you meant no harm, I am merely saying that you got ahead of yourself again and you said something that should have been worded differently. Do you understand?"

No, he did not if he were to be honest. Elladan saw this and rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"She can hide it all she wants, but she cannot fool myself and Elrohir. Asherah looks up to you, Aragorn. She speaks naught but fond words about you. Whatever you did or whatever you may have said to her, you have earned her loyalty. She hides it well considering you can't even tell, but can you imagine how hurt she must've been when someone she thought would have her back in a moment where that support was needed didn't?"

When Elladan said it like that...

The guilt that had been eating away at Aragorn seemed to triple, weighing down heavily on his shoulders and making them slump downwards. His nomadic lifestyle had greatly decreased his ability to talk to women properly. He wondered how Arwen could do it when he leaves for years on end and returns with the conversational skills of a tree.

"This is the talk you and Elrohir have been planning to give me?" He asked quietly, staring at those red locks with a newfound light. Those small shoulders were hunched forward and still, no longer shifting with the motion of her hands. Her head was bowed, almost like she was praying.

"I was going for a more aggressive approach," Elladan admitted brightly. "I'm relieved that it didn't go that far. You seem to understand what I'm saying, therefore that is enough." He tilted his head, smiling softly. "Asherah is special. I don't know how or why, but I can feel it. Whatever force brought her to Rivendell at the time it did, I think she was meant to be here right now."

Staring at that red hair that resembled flames, Aragorn could only silently agree.

"An apology is expected, Estel," Elladan informed. "Asherah was terribly upset last night when Elrohir found her by the stables, so I insist that you only let this sit for a little bit longer and then confront Gwathren."

"I will," He confirmed. "Arwen said something similar last night, though it was said in shorter words."

"She has a way with words, doesn't she?" Elladan chuckled. "She is such a peaceful and gentle creature, but even the wisest should fear her wrath when she is truly angry."

"That she does," Aragorn agreed, laughing and remembering the few times he'd seen his love genuinely angry. He just never expected to have said anger directed at him.

Elladan nodded, satisfied that his message had come across correctly. "Good. Asherah will not go looking for you first, as you know, so you will have to be the one to make the first push." He motioned for his brother to follow him. He cast a quick glance back, surprised to see Elrohir crouched before her and smiling the kind of smile that was filled with understanding and kindness. His lips moved and her shoulders began to tremble just a little and then his view was blocked by the stone that made up his home.

"The meeting is soon," Elladan said, ushering him along. "You may find her afterwards, but right now, we must make haste. We've spent a lot of time talking and we will be late if we do not hurry."

Aragorn suddenly found this Council meeting trifling and a complete waste of time as he followed Elladan away from a girl who needed his words more so than a group of races who would not care to listen.

"The meeting is about to start. Do you not want to go?"

"I wasn't aware I'd been invited. I thought it was meant for those Lord Elrond had personally sent out messages to?"

A sly smile. "You will not be denied."

A shiver and a firm headshake. "No, thank you. I don't want to go."

"If that is what you wish." A knowing wave later and he was gone.

There was a few minutes of silence, just the normal sounds of nature, and then a curse. Damn him.

I swiped a hand across my eyes, rubbing the raw skin underneath them tenderly and sniffing as quietly as I could. When was the last time I had actually cried like that? It had been a while. Elrohir had not made fun of the tears that had swelled up and fallen down red, blotchy cheeks, nor the near silent dry heaves of me trying to contain my sobs so that the two men behind me would hear them. He had only smiled and patted my knee soothingly until I'd calmed down enough to form a coherent sentence.

What did I do to deserve friends like the twins? I owe Elladan a long hunting trip to the mountains once everything settles down.

Elladan didn't have to go that far. I hated that he stepped in, but hearing him defend my anger warmed my whole body like a fire had ignited my blood. I appreciated him more than I was capable of saying. Elrohir, too.

I sniffled again, shaking my head to rid myself of such sappy, depressing thoughts and hoping that the present company hadn't heard my weak attempt to remain unseen.

I had to give myself credit, this was a good hiding spot, although Arwen deserved partial credit for hinting about it to me when she caught me running through the halls. Perched on top of a pillar conveniently hidden by the trees that surrounded the circular meeting area, I had a bird's eye view of everyone present and was close enough that I could hear everything said. Crossing my legs comfortably, I settled down in my spot for what I felt would be a long meeting.

I keep saying I don't want to be involved, yet here I am, spying on these people like some kind of stalker and unable to hide my own damnable curiosity.

Who was I kidding, I'd have to be a special kind of idiot to miss a turning point like this. I hummed, satisfied with that thought. Yes, I could watch and listen, I just wouldn't involve myself in the actual discussion. That was a safe choice. Yep. I was going to stick with that. It was still difficult to accept that this was all happening, feared that I was going to be caught with my knowledge and subjected to whatever punishment meant for my offense.

But it'd definitely be better if I could stop capturing the attention of everyone I meet. They'll wound up getting more curious and more suspicious. More questions will be asked and there'll come a time where I'll be too backed up in a corner to escape.

Leaving Rivendell would be the best bet to escape that scrutiny.

Below me and to my right, small figures carefully peeked their heads out from their hiding places, whispering furiously to each other. One slapped the other upside the head when he leaned too far forward and almost fell. He rubbed his curly head and grumbled under his breath, retreating back to safety. Neither knew I was up here, which was fine with me, but I found myself grudgingly amused at their antics. It was a comforting familiarity to see.

It was as the last Dwarf made himself comfortable that Lord Elrond finally stood. "Welcome," He greeted smoothly. "There is much to discuss and little time to waste, so I hereby declare this meeting be started." The elves seemed to sit straighter than they already were at his words, attentive and waiting. A Dwarf scoffed, creating as much space between himself and the elf seated beside him as possible and proceeded to slouch in his seat.

I wondered what Lord Elrond had been thinking with these seating arrangements. I wouldn't have put two races who can't get along beside each other the way he had. Upon catching sight of the brown hair belonging to the Son of Gondor, I vindictively thought they should've put him in-between the two races so he could take the full brunt of their angry stares and spiteful words.

I sat quietly as Gandalf began his tale, weaving a magnificent story of his travels into the Shire, hearing the whispers from the outside lands, and seeing for himself the increased activity of Sauron's creatures. I sat there as Bilbo also spoke, his voice strong and carrying as he recounted his journey through the Lonely Mountains with Thorin's band of misfits, Smaug, Laketown, and the Battle of the Five Armies. Once or twice, I saw his eyes cut to Frodo, who was patiently listening to his Uncle's tale, and I knew he was thinking of the Ring he knew was now in his nephew's possession.

"Upon leaving the Shire, I bequeathed everything I owned, including the Ring, to Frodo, whom is present with us today," Bilbo concluded, clearing his throat harshly and hands grasping the wooden cane tightly. Everyone's eyes went to Frodo and the Hobbit stiffened under their scrutiny, edging closer to Gandalf.

"This Ring," An elf began slowly, "is it here with us?"

Elrond nodded, motioning a hand to the only other Hobbit present. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." The young Hobbit could only look around helplessly before shakily climbing to his feet, taking small and dragging steps to the risen stone in the center of the circle. Even from this distance, I saw the Ring glint merrily in the sunlight as he slowly placed it down. I shivered, immensely uncomfortable as I was suddenly overcome with the urge to hop down and snatch that obviously evil piece of jewelry away and stuff it in my own pocket.

Is this what they all feel? This desire to take it?

I wanted to find the nearest and biggest body of water possible and throw the damn thing into it.

"Saruman has betrayed us," Gandalf was saying and I tuned back in with a jolt, realizing he'd been speaking of his imprisonment in the Orthanc and that I'd missed the Council's acceptance that this was, indeed, the One Ring. Oh, well. "His mind has become clouded by Sauron's darkness, morphing him into a mindless slave to the Dark Lord. He can no longer be trusted."

That was a bad Harry Potter reference.

"This is grave news," A blond Elf said. Seeing the braids alongside his head, my stomach flipped when I realized who it was. "To be betrayed by one as great as Saruman...if one of our own can do something so heinous, who can we trust?"

"The Dark One's reaches are far," A Dwarf grumbled, voice deep with a heavy accent. He crossed his arms, feet spread firmly against the ground as he suddenly took the floor. "His messengers have been approaching the Lonely Mountain, always asking for the whereabouts of Bilbo Baggins." He nodded towards the Hobbit. "Recently, however, it has been someone new from Sauron's usual dark messengers."

"Someone new?" Elrond asked gravely.

The Dward nodded. "Aye, a human, I believe. A man. Always cloaked in a dark cloak with the hood drawn over his face. He never says much, only stays to look around for a short period before leaving."

The Dwarf beside him harrumphed. "Rude lad, he is," He said gruffly. The auburn beard was a dead giveaway to whom was talking. "His few words are harsh and biting, like he has a grievance against us, though I cannot recall us having any dealings with humans recently that would warrant such from this one." An Elf rolled his eyes and seemed to hold back a smartass remark to that.

"They are looking for something in the Lonely Mountains?" Gandalf asked sharply. Bilbo straightened, eyes grave and lips pursed. "The Arkenstone?"

The Dwarf snorted, waving a hand. "Unlikely. The stone remains safely buried with Thorin Oakenshield, guarded zealously day and night by us Dwarves. This newcomer has not once gone barely past the front door, much less deep within our caves to Thorin's grave."

"And yet they still visit the Lonely Mountain dwellings often enough that you are able to recognize him?"

"Yes," He confirmed seriously. "We know not what he is searching for, but he once said it was merely upon Saruman's orders that he returns every once and awhile. Whatever Saruman is looking for in our dwellings, he will be disappointed to find out that his search will be in vain."

Ice encased my blood, my breath catching. A man working for Saruman? I thought he didn't start recruiting men until the Two Towers after his band of Uruk-Hai failed to bring back Merry and Pippin. Unless this was just one of those unmentioned parts of the movie? In which case, this was so very bad. Who was this new person? Were they a threat? How did this come to be? Surely it wouldn't be that big of problem for the Fellowship, right? If this truly was just one of the small plot holes in the timeline, then this couldn't mean anything serious as the Fellowship never encountered human servants of Saruman until after it broke with Boromir's death.

I couldn't help the nerves that wracked my body, though, despite my attempt to soothe myself.

Surely my being here didn't cause this, right? I'm positive I haven't done anything to change the timeline. This couldn't be because I grew close to the elves here?

I choked back the bile that began to rise in my throat, swallowing heavily as Boromir spoke up.

"In a dream," He began, and oh, this sounded like the beginning of his fall to the Ring if the entranced tone his voice had taken was an indicator, "I saw the eastern sky go dark. To the west, a pale light lingered." The eastern sky...Sauron. Yes, his fortress was in the east. And the west, that had to be Gondor. I blinked. Or Aragorn. "There were voices crying, your doom is near at hand." He rose and took small steps forward, and even from here, I could see his eyes were fixated on the innocent looking ring. "Isildur's Bane is found. Isildur's Bane..."

He's fallen.

Lord Elrond leapt to his feet, sternly calling for him, "Boromir!", as Gandalf's voice suddenly boomed through the clearing, a harsh, guttural, and dark language echoing and surrounding me and filling me with an almost visceral fear that clenched at my heart tightly as the light seemed to be stripped from the very sky. My breath caught as I barely noticed the elves stiffening, their eyes clenched shut as if they were in pain, of the dwarves who immediately drew their weapons and bared their teeth at the threat they knew was present but could not see, and of the men who whipped their heads back and forth, startled and wary.

I could only focus on the way my heart began to beat faster and faster, the sweat that pooled on my forehead, and the painful feeling of my muscles clenching too tightly than should be done, as if they were preparing my body to run and run and don't look back because he's coming HE'S HERE HE'S HERE HE'S HE—

It stopped.

I clapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the wheezing gasps, mindlessly realizing that it would be very bad if I was caught eavesdropping on this so-called secret Council and that I had to regain control quickly before I had a complete and utter mental breakdown. All because of a few words in a language that was basically the embodiment of evil and one whom I could not bother myself to remember the meanings to at the moment.

I chanced a look up. Green met baby blue and once again, my heart stopped. His mouth parted, as if to call out before he paused, something strange passing over his face. His mouth closed and his eyes said it all. He wouldn't tell. How Frodo saw me, I wasn't sure, but he had and he wouldn't tell that I was there.

I was infinitely grateful as I focused on controlling my breathing and forced myself to relax. Whatever urge I may have had to put even a finger on that piece of bling was completely gone now, replaced only with a primal fear that was strong enough to curb or entertain any such thoughts.

"Never before has anyone uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," Elrond scolded angrily, disapproval clear as he almost glared at Gandalf.

The Wizard wasn't fazed, rasping, "I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west." He pierced Boromir with a harsh stare. "The Ring is altogether evil."

The Son of Gondor readily disagreed, voice misguidedly passionate as he exclaimed, "It is a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" I could think of several reasons why after that little show Gandalf had given not even two minutes ago. To be so clouded by something as small as a piece of jewelry...

I almost pity you, Boromir.

Said man made a show of looking at everyone present, eyes bright with his belief and voice sure. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe." He was breathless with his excitement, so confident that he could convince the Council that his way was the right way. "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

I very nearly huffed loudly in relief when Aragorn's voice of reason rang out. "You cannot wield it," He said adamantly. "None of us can." He gestured vaguely at the Ring, not sparing it a glance as if giving it even a second of his time would sully him. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other Master."

Boromir scoffed, sneering, "And what would a mere Ranger know about this?"

I was still angry with Aragorn, but righteous fury almost made me reveal myself in an attempt to defend the future King. Him being ridiculed by someone who was allowing his own judgement to be muddled up by a gold band? I wouldn't stand for it. I had only just uncrossed my legs when the elf, Legolas, jumped to his feet with a scowl and I froze, realizing what I had been about to do, and returned to my previous position.

"This is no mere Ranger," He corrected Boromir, who merely gave the elf prince a side-eyed look. "He is Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Cue one of many bombshells being dropped.

His words seemed to have shaken Boromir, who was suddenly appraising Aragorn with new eyes as he looked the dark-haired, nicely dressed, clean Ranger over. "Aragorn?" He repeated in disbelief. An extended scene of Boromir and Aragorn talking before the broken sword of Isildur came to mind and I wondered if Boromir was recalling the same thing. I thought about last night when he had ran into Arwen and I, realized he must've been with Aragorn not even mere moments beforehand, and could've slapped myself for not reaching that conclusion sooner. "This is Isildur's Heir?"

Legolas drove the nail even further into that coffin, proudly saying, "And Heir to the throne of Gondor."

The Council was deadly silent, all eyes watching the Son of Gondor and the supposed future King of Gondor. Aragorn's face was blank, but I could practically feel his exasperation from here. It was so obvious he did not want that information flying around, especially with one of Gondor's prized Captains and eldest son standing right before him.

"Sit down, Legolas," Aragorn pleaded in Sindarin, waving his words away as the elf only gazed at him incredulously and reluctantly lowered himself back. Smugly proud of myself for translating his words correctly, I thanked Lindir for the many grueling and intense hours of speech lessons.

"Gondor has no king," Boromir snapped, unyieldingly sharp and very bitter. "Gondor needs no king." He threw himself down into his seat, eyes staying connected with Aragorn's, whom was doing a fine job of appearing unfazed by the Gondorian's hostility.

"Your father is no adequate ruler either, bastard," I hissed under my breath, feeling utter contempt for a man I had not met but through a television screen. Denethor was no ruler. He was no king. He was no father. Any father who can treat their children like Denethor treats Faramir was not deserving of that title. Faramir's heartbroken expression as Denethor condemned him for living while Boromir didn't. The resigned determination as he ran towards his death. The solemn smiles. He never laughs. What did a laughing Faramir sound like when he's happy?

I wouldn't know.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf declared, hunched forward. "We cannot use it." Weathered hands wrung his staff, tense and firm and demanding a resolution. One which Lord Elrond was eager to give and wasted no time in presenting.

"You have only one choice," He concluded, eyes roving over the whole Council. "The Ring must be destroyed."

Everyone present shifted restlessly, seemingly uncomfortable with such a task for their own reasons. Except for Gimli, that is, who snatched his ax from his side and growled, "Well, what are we waiting for?" Eyes widened and before Lord Elrond could open his mouth, Gimli released a mighty cry and swung down with all the strength his Dwarf body possessed.

I knew what was going to happen, but I still jumped when what sounded like a shot of thunder pierced the air and Gimli's ax exploded, his body flying backwards and sending sharp pieces of the blade flying in every direction. I yelped when one such piece sliced past me, cringing when my cheek began to sting, and flailing my arms in a pathetic attempt to not fall off my perch. Gravity was not to be denied and for a few seconds, I was weightless and my stomach rolling. Then my back connected to the ground and all air escaped my lungs as my heart thundered loudly in my ears.

God, that hurt. Definitely don't recommend doing that again.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, Son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Lord Elrond was explaining, sounding almost amused that the Dwarf actually thought it would be that easy.

Gimli's grumbles barely pierced my ears through the pounding of my heartbeat, but I forced myself to focus, heaving my body into a sit up position and wincing at the full body pain that came with my action. I gingerly touched my cheek, staring at the dark red that stained my fingers blankly. Now how the hell was I going to get away with explaining this one?

Stupid ax. It could've gone anywhere but my hiding spot, but of course, Luck decided that it would choose to shoot my way.

"Lady Asherah!" I launched myself away from the voice with a strangled cry, fearing that I had been discovered only for that worry to ease when Merry and Pippin's concerned expressions were revealed. "Are you alright?" Merry asked, focused on the long scratch across my cheek. Pippin's hands fluttered around my shoulders, obviously trying to help but unsure how.

"I'm fine," I assured, calmly shooing his hands away. He lowered them reluctantly, eyes wide.

"But that was such a nasty fall," Pippin protested. He looked up the pillar, tracing the path to the ground. "And from so high up, too."

"Nothing's broken," I promised, resisting the habitual urge to ruffle his hair. He wasn't Emmalee, so it would be weird to do it now.

"You're bleeding," Merry said dryly. Holding his gaze, I stubbornly swiped my hand across my cheek and wiped away the blood there. I wasn't sure if I'd gotten it all, but the point was made and Merry frowned at me. "What were you doing up there?"

"Spying," I said truthfully. Despite my reluctance to associate with anyone in the Fellowship, I still wasn't going to lie to them. To an extent. I considered half truths being honest since I wasn't technically lying. They just wouldn't get the full story. "I heard there was a Council meeting today and got curious."

"Us, too," Pippin admitted easily, grinning. "We were mighty upset when Frodo was invited and not us, so we decided to come anyway." Merry shrugged, not bothering to deny Pippin's words. "Sam's here, too. He's hiding over there." He pointed to some bushes and though I couldn't see him, I knew Sam was there, listening in just like we had been.

"They're fighting," Merry pointed out.

The meeting had escalated, a good chunk of the Council now on their feet and shouting in each other's faces, their voices clamoring together and struggling to be heard. Arms waved frantically, silk robes billowing in every direction and sometimes slapping someone, inciting even more tempers and escalating the already tumultuous atmosphere. Only Lord Elrond and Aragorn remained seated, shaking their heads at the antics before them. Even Gandalf was standing, colliding with Boromir heatedly.

Is this the Ring at work? Igniting their already frayed tempers and encouraging this outburst?

"I don't understand what they're arguing for," Pippin said, scratching his head. "It all seems pointless to me." I had a good grasp of Pippin's personality from back home, but I couldn't help the incredulous look I gave him.

"Were you even listening to them talk?" Merry asked sarcastically.

Pippin hummed, thinking, before smiling cluelessly. "Not really. I was more interested in what we're having for dinner."

I couldn't stop the snort that escaped me. "Hobbits. Can't think beyond their stomachs."

Pippin's chest puffed out proudly. "Easiest way to our hearts is our stomach as most of our kin would say."

"That's what you say, Pip," Merry retorted, rolling his eyes. I hid a smile, knowing that inside, Merry was the exact same way. He was just as food motivated as his cousin, though he wasn't as easily led around by his nose as Pippin was.

They actually aren't that bad to talk to...

I shook my head and stood, brushing off my dress of any dirt and leaves as the two Hobbits watched. "You two should go," I said. "You don't want to get caught eavesdropping on a secret meeting. Go find another hiding place."

"But what about you?"

"I'm more than capable of finding another spot alone. Now—"

"I will take it!" I froze alongside the Hobbits, Frodo's voice carrying to us. Oh. It was happening. The assembly towered over Frodo, necks craned down to gaze at a creature who was the height of a small child to a grown man. He stood there looking so unsure under their eyes, fidgeting in place before he seemed to steel himself and took a shaky breath. "I will take the Ring to Mordor." He wavered, glancing around nervously. "Though...I do not know the way."

"What's he doing?" Pippin whispered. Merry didn't answer, shocked. Pippin shook him insistently. "What's going on?"

Gandalf nodded, focused on Frodo as he came to stand behind him. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." He clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. Frodo seemed to deflate with relief, releasing a shaky breath.

Aragorn stood, confident. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He knelt before Frodo. "You have my sword."

Now Legolas brushed past everyone, strides long and graceful. "And you have my bow," He promised.

And Gimli, not to be outdone, easily offered, "And my ax." Legolas seemed to do the elf equivalent of rolling his eyes, face souring as the Dwarf glowered up at him.

Despite my false hopes that he wouldn't, Boromir also offered himself up, slow and almost hesitant to give his help. "You carry the fate of us all, little one," He said. "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Pippin groaned. "I'm so confused." Merry smacked him again, hissing at him to be quiet.

Sam suddenly leaped from the bushes with a shout, fumbling around a surprised Lord Elrond and planting himself firmly beside Frodo with crossed arms and declared, "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."

"No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not," Lord Elrond said, eyebrow arched and seeming to fight back a smile. Sam flushed and looked away sheepishly as Frodo nudged him playfully.

Merry shoved Pippin forward suddenly, exclaiming, "Wait! We're coming, too!" I had to muffle a laugh behind my hand, watching them both rocket themselves towards the group gathered around Frodo. I watched Lord Elrond's eye twitch and had to turn away to avoid bursting into straight out laughter. The poor elf was probably entirely fed up with Hobbits at this point. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission," Pippin said. "Uh, quest. Thing." Gandalf shared an exasperated look with Aragorn, who could only show a brief grin before he forced himself back to an attentive state.

"Well, I guess that rules you out, Pip." Pippin did a double take, betrayed that Merry would gang up on him.

Lord Elrond surveyed them all carefully, nodding. "Nine companions," He murmured. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

Ahh, this is so cool. I can't believe I just watched this happen in real life! It was definitely a whole other experience seeing it live instead of through a screen. I frowned. They'd be leaving soon. And once they left, I'd be free to go, as well. There was still some things Elladan had to teach me and that would take time, but the Fellowship would be here for a whole month before they set out. That would give me plenty of time to train with the twins and then head out not long after them.

It wouldn't be long before I could begin searching for Emmalee. Nervous flutters erupted in my stomach, but I took a deep breath and they settled. I could do this. I would be prepared and everything would be fine.

"Actually..." I paused as Frodo tentatively spoke. "I have a request." Lord Elrond cocked his head curiously, silently telling him to continue. "There's one more person I think should come with us." One more person? What?

"Oh? Name them and we shall hear what they have to say."

Without hesitation, Frodo turned in my direction, locking eyes with me determinedly through the gap the trees provided. My mouth dropped and my mind went blank as every single eye in that small area followed his line of sight and finally noticed me standing there.

Boromir's voice boomed and sheer chaos erupted for the second time today.

A/N: This chapter kicked my ass in terms of keeping it in character and trying to add in my own touch to it. It literally did not want to get written. My apologies for it taking so long.

Thank you so much to the people who reviewed last chapter. Your kind words spurred me on in many ways and helped me at least do small sections every day until finally it was completed. I appreciate each and every single one of you. Thank you.

As always, I will go back in and edit any mistakes I made before the next chapter is up. Right now, it is time for bed as it is 10 pm and I work at 5. Thank you for reading!