Hi everyone! On the one hand, I am somewhat ashamed that it has been SO STINKING LONG since I updated this story. On the other hand... HERE'S ANOTHER CHAPTER. :) I'll be honest, this isn't necessarily my favorite chapter. I'm really looking forward to getting to the Mines of Moria, but I was feeling like I would be rushing a bit if I jumped straight there after Caradhras. So this is a BIT of a filler chapter, you could say. However, it IS a chapter! Yay!

Here's to hopefully more frequent updates! I'd really love to actually finish this fic by the new year, but we will see! If you've stuck around this long - bless you. You've got to be the most patient readers ever.

DISCLAIMER: All Tolkien's genius and Tolkien's characters and Tolkien's world (except for Anariel). I did use some of his dialogue from the chapter "A Journey in the Dark" in The Fellowship of the Ring.

After much toil, they finally reached the end of the snow. No one wanted to think about, let alone mention, the time that had been wasted. Caradhras had won.

They turned their backs on the Redhorn Gate and even though they could see the birds circling below, there was nothing for it now. Their quest depended on speed and secrecy. But if secrecy had to be sacrificed for speed…so be it.

Gandalf's voice called them to a halt.

"We must rest here for a while," Gandalf said. "And after, we have no choice but to go on or return to Rivendell."

Anariel could feel the glimmer of hope that arose in everyone's heart with the mere mention of Rivendell. But she knew it was a false hope. She spoke up softly and she saw all eyes turn to her.

"A joyful thought, at first. To return. But it would be bitter in the end to admit defeat and shameful to turn back if there is any possible way forward." She could feel keen gray eyes on her face, but she looked only at Frodo, concerned as his face grew pale.

"I wish I was back in Rivendell," Frodo spoke slowly and the attention of the group shifted. Anariel chanced a glance at Aragorn and his eyes lingered, a strange light in them that she could not place. "But I cannot return now without shame, as Anariel said. Unless, of course, there is indeed no other way and we are already defeated?"

"You and Anariel are both right," answered Gandalf warmly, although his voice sounded weary. "We cannot go back. We must continue as long as there is any way forward. And there is another way. A dark way. And one which Aragorn was against, at least until the mountain pass had been attempted."

Aragorn's eyes tightened and his mouth grew grim. Anariel thought he aged before her eyes as his countenance hardened. She knew the Mines were dangerous – but surely he had seen many such dangerous paths in his travels? And they had great warriors in their Fellowship. Surely there was not cause for the amount of worry she read in his eyes?

The Fellowship heard Gandalf's plan for their new path with determined dread – none looked forward to it. All were ready to follow the Ring-bearer's lead. Wherever it took them. And Frodo, weary but with a will of iron, was going to follow Gandalf. He wished to sleep on it. But the howling of the wind was growing ever louder. Anariel pulled her cloak closer about her shoulders. She shivered.

"How the wind howls.," Frodo shuddered. Anariel tipped her head slightly. The wind sounded so strange... she had never heard wind quite like that.

"That is no wind, but the howling of wolf-voices!" Aragorn suddenly exclaimed. "The Wargs have come down from the mountains!" He loosened his sword in its sheath and quickly scanned their surroundings, the fire leaping to life in his eyes. The group quickly determined to make for Moria. They had little choice but to continue as quickly as possible and find a safe place to make camp. Well, as safe a place as could be found in the wilderness with wolves at their backs.

Anariel wondered at the path that was now set before their feet. Seemingly retracing their steps, until their path turned to take a darker way. She shivered when she thought of the Mines – she had always loved the light of the sun, one of the reasons for the presumptuous nickname given to her by her cousins. It wasn't that she had no love for the silver starlight or moonlight. But something about the vibrancy of the day, the gold shimmer of the sun on the leaves or the sparkle on water, spoke to her. It called to her. It lit a fire inside of her. That is, until…she shook herself. They were about to go on a dark path. She should not let her thoughts dwell on things just as dark as the mines into which they were going to venture. She shivered again. She was not looking forward to the mines. The thick darkness, so thick you could almost taste it. The silence but for the soft tread of their feet…

Her mind was a mess of confusion. And her worry about the mines she knew was but one part of that mess. The other part she didn't want to name yet. She should be more frightened of the wolves on their trail or the orcs that surely awaited them in the Mines. She should be frightened of death, of pain, of the fate of her friends, of the decision that inevitably awaited her. And yet…and yet. She was not. Well, if she was honest with herself, of course she was. When she thought of it. But she didn't think of it much. So much of her mind was filled with him. With the light in his grey eyes, stern and cold but never with her. No. When he looked at her, there was a warmth and a fire, a flame that made breathing more difficult. His strong arms surrounding her, pulling her close to a solid chest with his strong heart beating steadily. Determined, loyal, noble, kingly…how could he not fill her mind? How could she not fall in love with him? Her heart was no longer her own. How quickly it had happened! But she could not let him know it. Not now. There was so much at stake, so much riding on their mission. And she was sent with the Fellowship for a reason, not so that she could act like a young schoolgirl in love with a handsome prince. She needed to be focused, to be brave. If her love for him made her brave, all the better. But she would cherish it deep within her heart, keep it glowing like a small ember, fueling her resolve to stand firm and make the right choice when the time came. She could feel that time, that choice, hovering on the horizon like a storm cloud or a horde of crebain ready to descend and tear her to pieces.

The Company climbed to the top of a small hill which was crowned with old, twisted trees. They built up a fire in the center – it would make no difference to the wolves. They would find them just as easily if they didn't light one. They huddled close around the fire, whispering to themselves worriedly and those not on watch slowly started to quiet and doze fitfully. Aragorn and Legolas were first watch. But Anariel couldn't sleep. She felt the shapes moving in the darkness almost as if she could see them. By Legolas's darting gaze and trained bow, she could tell he could as well. She scooted slightly closer to Aragorn who sat on a rock to her right. His eyes softened as they glanced down at her before they returned to the darkness, his hand tight on his sword hilt.

"Can you not sleep?" his voice sounded softly.

"No. I can feel them moving. Out there," she answered just as quietly. She saw his hand tighten where it rested on his sword. The howling suddenly grew louder. And no one was even pretending to sleep any more. The shapes grew clearer.

Suddenly, Gandalf stood.

"Listen, Hound of Sauron! Gandalf is here. Fly if you value your foul skin!" Gandalf shouted, striding forward towards the darkness. A huge wolf sprang forward from the shadows but fell in an instant, an arrow lodged in its throat. The wolves vanished and the howling stopped. But Anariel felt the danger only withdraw for a moment. They would be back.

She had slept for what only felt a moment before she was shaken awake to take the watch with Gimli, though Aragorn was still alert, motionless and still as a statue on the gray rock. She wrapped her cloak tightly around herself, making sure her sword was strapped securely at her hip and went to him. She felt safer at his side. The night was growing old and the moon was setting. Suddenly, the howls broke out from all around them. They were under attack.

Gandalf shouted at them build up the fire.

"Draw your blades! And get into the center!"

Before she knew it, Anariel was roughly shoved into the center of the ring along with the hobbits. She drew her sword as the first wolf leaped into the firelight. It was chaos – fur flying, jaws snapping, Legolas' bow twanging, and swords glittering dangerously as they sliced through the firelight. She saw Aragorn slice through the thick neck of one animal but had no time to see anything else before a great beast slipped through the outer defenses and was leaping upon the hobbits. In a moment she planted herself in front of them, sword firmly tilted upward at an angle as the wolf landed, piercing himself on her blade, and then crashing to the ground. The beast was twice her size and pulled her down with it. She landed heavily on her knee, half her arm beneath the animal, still gripping her sword. Her ears were ringing and all she could smell was blood and fur. She heard Gandalf shouting and there was a flash of light…

"Anariel! Anariel? Are you alright?"

She felt tugging on her arm and she was pulled gently to her feet.

"Boromir? What happened?" she shook her head, trying to stop the ringing.

"The wolves have been routed. Legolas pierced the great chief in the heart with a flaming arrow. But here, is your arm alright? It was crushed beneath that beast."

Anariel's head slowly cleared and she eased herself out of Boromir's grasp. A glance at her arm showed that it was a bit bruised but nothing more. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Is anyone wounded?" she asked quickly. Boromir shook his head.

"I know not but I do not believe so. Come. We must rest until light dawns."

After checking that no one needed her aid, Anariel sat next to Frodo. No one was going to sleep any more. But they wouldn't move on until it was light. There were no more howls. But still Anariel shivered. She hadn't been frightened. For some reason, the wolves terrified her less than orcs. Perhaps because they were beastlike? Not at all like men. The orcs though…she shook her head and smiled at Frodo. He gave her a weak one in return and she began to tell him a story. A story about the sun.

The emotions threatened to choke him. He was almost glad when the wolves finally attacked, so that he could concentrate on one thing, so that he could feel Anduril cold and strong in his hand, singing with joy at flying through the air again, piercing warg-flesh and defending his friends. Defending her. He had been terrified. The testing he had known was coming was upon him far too quickly. Danger. Pain. Death. All of it howled through the night, stalking their company even as the wolves on their trail. Stalking the Ring-Bearer. Stalking her. She was so very mortal. She didn't glow in the starlight as Legolas did. She was stronger than she looked though. She had to be to fell that wolf as she did. He admitted to himself that he had moved from terrified to terribly attracted in the span of but a few seconds as the beast leapt upon her sword. She held steady and even though she fell, he could see she was uninjured. She was strong. Like fire. But also like fire, she could be put out in the cold and the darkness. He tightened his hand repeatedly on his sword. He was in love with her. He said it now, in his own mind. It had happened so very quickly. But here he was. More in love with her than he had ever been in love with Arwen. He saw now that his love for Arwen was made up of more admiration than anything else. And that it stood next to his love for Anariel as a guttering candle next to the full burning heat of the sun at midday. He fought against the mines as much as he could. For her. For her only. She did not belong in the mines. And if she fell…He stood quietly and moved to the edge of the clearing as the sky in the east began to blush slightly. He could hear her voice, rising and falling like the swells of the sea, as she began telling Frodo a light-hearted story about the sun. He couldn't help a small smile flit across his lips and a lifting of his heart. His love pained him in so many ways – he could not tell her. Not yet. Maybe never. But he could still love her. He could still fight for her. He could maybe, someday, be worthy of her. If Eru blessed their quest…he scarcely dared to hope. But with her, he found himself unable to keep from hoping. If he was to be Estel, the hope of men, she was his hope. His hope for a future brighter than any he had ever allowed himself to imagine. A future full of sunlight. But first, they must pass through the shadows.

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