The club thrummed with energy that pulsed to the beat of the music. Sweaty bodies pressed against each other in the ever changing colored strobe lights that flickered over their heads. Couples freely kissed and did much more in the shadowy booths that lined the dance floor and were interspersed by exits flashing their red signs and a large bar where girls lounged against the counter and boys leaned in from their stools. Laughter and the muffled sounds of words reached the two girls standing close to the main entrance. The lights flickered across their dresses and in their shining hair as they scoured the club.

Aiedale regarded the scene and ignored the many glances cast her way. She, like her cousin, attracted attention and part of her was rather pleased while another just wished the boys would stop trying to slip up to her and get her to dance. She found their endless attentions both highly entertaining and incredibly frustrating. The boys who liked the smell of danger always wanted her to dance. But hunting was her business that night not the game of breaking hearts…

Aiedale shook the memory from her thoughts as she glanced around their small campsite that she was currently watching as the stars turned above them. Then she scowled as she put a hand up to her hair and felt the greasy strands which she had braided back in an effort to keep it neat and tidy. A few loose strands stuck to her forehead unpleasantly and it looked more brown then reddish mahogany.

She supposed she was still a girl if she could bemoan, out of everything, the way she looked. What she wouldn't do for some shampoo…a little perfume and a female companion who would listen sympathetically as she shared the outrageously difficult burden of traveling with NINE - yes NINE - men. Only Legolas who seemed impervious to dirt and whose hair could have been in a shampoo commercial, didn't smell foul.

As a matter of fact she had rather come to like the elf. He was silent – always a bonus – and did not seem to mind scouting with her. He was just as quiet as her, his reflexes were sharp and he knew many things about the land they traveled through. They had often gone off with each other – or alone – to scout around the Fellowship and, occasionally, they had met orcs or wargs. Never many and never enough to be overly difficult to destroy, but enough that Aiedale had been rather glad for the elf's quiet companionship. Slowly the two had begun to build a friendship built on their shared interest in patrolling efficiently and effectively. They had even begun to create arrows together in the evenings, Legolas sharing his own experience and Aiedale some of the techniques of her own home.

It gave her something else to do then divert questions and stare moodily into the flames.

Shifting a little upon the cold ground Aiedale looked up at the dark night sky. Then, with a quick glance around at her sleeping companions, she rose silently and moved towards a large, thick tree with excellent branches for climbing. Jumping she grabbed one of the branches and climbed up until she broke through the canopy.

A brisk wind was blowing up here and it was…refreshing? Relaxing? It tugged at her hair and she closed her hands better to listen to its soft words that whispered in her mind. She had often wondered what the wind was saying to her – was it telling her of her fate? Was it speaking of places it had seen, places she should go and see before her life flickered out?

It didn't matter. The wind comforted her wherever she might be.

Here in Middle Earth things seemed endless. Their journey – even though they had only been on this road for less than two weeks – seemed to stretch out endlessly. Nothing had to be done on a specific time or day, the rush and bustle of her mortal life in her own dimension had no place here. She tried to fill the space with her endless patrols, with light conversations with the hobbits but it still left her with too much time to think. To think of everything from her past to what the hell she was doing in this bloody dimension.

The land they traveled through, illuminated before her with silver moonlight, was wild and harsh. The mountains they journeyed to were growing nearer and the paths fewer, more winding and would have, without Aragorn, led them towards sheer valley cliffs or dangerously deep swamps. Ancient trees grew in clumps and in the valleys, there were many bushes of various kinds and stones, vaguely piled as if by some long-ago hand, dotted the land. Many living things lived in this wild land and she had wondered at the many species, some similar but still different from the ones she knew. Legolas had told her that this land 'Hollin' had once been the home of elves in years long past, but they had long left for the land over the sea. Only the stones, the elf told her, remembered them.

Her eyes took all of this in from her perch high in the tree. But it was in the stars, the moon and the wind that she reveled in. For a few minutes she felt her cares lifted away, her spirit lighten and she flew free with the wind.

Taking one more glance up at the night sky she slipped down the trunk and left the whispering wind far above. She didn't want to leave the quiet peace she had found up here, but her duty was on the ground watching over snoring mundanes, twitching hobbits and an opinionated pony. Landing back on the ground she wondered, not for the last time, what stupid Angel had dropped her in this world?

What had she done to deserve such treatment?

She had done many things that she wasn't proud of. Some made her wince with bone deep pain and some were just embarrassing. But she was not a failure by Shadowhunter standards. Far from it and she was needed. Every seraph blade was needed, but some being had seen fit to yank her away from everything and stick her here. Some reason was more important than her continuing in her life's mission of defending her world. She hadn't always been perfect, it was impossible to live blameless in the world. There were enemies, just as she had told the Fellowship, and there were many unspoken things that went unsaid with Shadowhunters. There were cold, ruthless things that she tried her best not to think of. Things that no matter how many times the hobbits or Gandalf or Aragorn asked her she would never answer honestly.

Oh she had failed.

They all had. She had sobbed just as hard as any mundane could and she knew that, deep down, she could be just as big a coward as those she pretended to be better then. There were things that scared her and made her run even when she knew she should stay and fight. There were times when she had collapsed into her aunt's arms and wished she could shatter into thousands of pieces because the world seemed too heavy. But that was the past and it wasn't a special past really.

She didn't care.

Truth hurt, she knew that, and sometimes people didn't need to know the truth. Maybe, as much as she despised the thought, this was one of those times for her. Standing on the edge of the small camp and looking out over the companions she had allied herself with, she wondered. Did she want to know why she had come to place? No, she thought, she didn't. What was the point? All that mattered was getting home - clearing away any loyalties she might owe the people of this world.

Aiedale could only hope it would work out. Things, she knew, rarely went according to plan. Glancing back up at the stars she pretended they were arranged differently and that she could still feel the cool wind on her cheek. The road may seem long, but it had to have an end.

She would find it. She had found the end too many other dark and dangerous roads. Those roads had been cold, unfriendly journeys where she had had to fight every step of the way just to breathe - just to live - so she could take another step.

This road, she had come to find, was not as dark as some of those. It didn't even come close. No matter how her much companion's spoke of the darkness and evil she knew they hadn't a foggy notion of what she defined as dark and evil. There was hope at the end of this journey and, on some of her roads there had been nothing but the promise of another dark journey. Life as a Shadowhunter meant stepping from one terrible danger to another, from fight to fight and then, often when one least expected it, into the final journey of death.

"ALLEZ! ALLEZ!" Go! Go! " Nephilim idiots sales, vous nous MASSACREZ TOUS!"

Filthy Nephilim idiots, you're killing us ALL!

They were walking – as usual – and somehow Aiedale found herself walking with Aragorn at the back of the party. Somehow she wasn't at all surprised, he seemed to want to talk with her but never been able to find the time. Now he had made it.

Bluntly, his voice too low for the others to hear, he asked the question with no hesitation. "You seem to know much of farewells." His gaze was pointed as he reminded her of the way she forced him to break his promise of silent and say farewell to Arwen. He seemed to have wanted to say these words for a long time, but had never found the right moment. They held the air of long pent up curiosity mixed with reproach.

Aiedale didn't really care, the question held no sting for her. "Of course I know much of farewells," she said and she didn't bother with looking at him. "I have said farewell to my parents, friends, allies and many others. Some things should not go unspoken." Her gaze flicked meaningfully to the beautiful elvish jewel hanging from the Ranger's neck. Her gaze adding silent words of: You would have been a fool to hold them back.

"What do you know of love?" asked the Ranger as his hand closed tightly over Arwen's necklace. He remembered Aiedale saying that she had always flirted with love as if it was something to be avoided. As if love was something that one could play with and then put down when one returned to the daily toil of everyday life.

She gave the Ranger a strange look. It had a challenge in it, and defiance, and excitement, but also amusement. "I do have someone," she told him quietly, "but I know nothing of a love so deep and powerful it crosses centuries and inspires selfless sacrifices." Feeling the slight bounce of the pendent against her chest she remembered her aunt telling her how her parents had shared that kind of love. She had always wondered about it, what kind of emotion could stand against so much and force people to do so many things? Not looking at the man she continued, "What does it matter?"

The Ranger did not reply for a long moment. "I miss her," he whispered in a voice almost too soft for Aiedale to hear. "I do not know if she will remain."

"Then she does not," said the Shadowhunter with a soldier's pity. "You must turn your thoughts away from such things and focus on the things you do know. She loves you and you love her."

"Is that what you do?" asked the Ranger suddenly and his gaze was keen upon her face. "Is that how you live?"

Aiedale suddenly wondered if this was the very point of this rather pointless conversation – so that the ranger could sense how she was 'coping.' Her face darkened a little, but she kept her voice low and tried to control the impulse to snap. Let no one say that Aragorn son of Arathorn was not a master of interrogation or at least a master at digging beneath her shell. "Yes," she said, "I do it all the time."

I do it every single time I am reminded of past failures. I do it every single second in this world when I start wishing I was anywhere but here. What does it matter to you mundane? Why should I share it with you? I am a tool, a soldier and a warrior – perhaps even your friend – but these are things I share with no one.

Before he could ask her anything else she sped up. She left Aragorn to trail at the very back and gaze at her swinging braid as he thought over her words.

But she couldn't forget the conversation. She was only half-aware of the conversation that Gimili dragged her into merely because the dwarf would talk for hours about the many wonders that could be found in his home. All she had to do was act attentive and make appropriate noises at the right moment – it didn't require much thought. At some point, the dwarf was distracted by a question of Pippen's and Aiedale was about to inform the wizard that she was going scouting, when Boromir who had been walking a little ahead of her, slowed a little and fell into step beside her.

Instantly wary as she remembered the few terse conversations between them, Aiedale raised an eyebrow as the man sent her a polite smile. "Aiedale," said the man, "we have not spoken much."

"No," she said. He looked a little irritated by her lack of response.

"But I wish to apologize," continued the man after a brief pause, "I am sorry if my words have caused offense to you. I have been cold and unfeeling towards you, when you have done nothing to earn it."

Despite her dislike for apologies, Aiedale had learned her manners and diplomatic skills well. "I accept," she said with formulaic ease, "I understand how different I am from the women you know."

The man spoke again, clearly mustering the courage to truly meet her gaze as he spoke in a softer voice. "We are not so different, you and I. We both know of duty and sacrifice as only soldiers can. There is not so much different that I should justify my cold actions on them."

Aiedale raised her gaze to look at them as they continued their quiet march along the trail. She shook her head and smirked slightly, "It seems I must add peace maker to the list of accolades you carry Boromir of Gondor."

Boromir seemed to find her words emboldening and the man asked, "Forgive my curiosity, but how are you used to fighting? I have only seen you spar and your style is…unlike anything I have seen."

Aiedale raised an eyebrow at the suddenly chatty man before she answered in as polite a way as she could manage. "We often fight in small groups, my cousins and I. Now my brother has joined us. I have spent many years fighting beside their side and training with them. When you know some so well that you what they will do, how they will fight and the best way to compensate for their own weaknesses there is a better chance of surviving."

"Isn't it called parabati?" called Gandalf from the front of their line. "I think your mother mentioned something of the kind."

"No," said Aiedale, "parabati is a matched set of warriors. I have no parabati and neither did my mother." Half amazed that she was sharing this much and half amused that she did continue Aiedale explained a little more. "Parabati's are so close that they nearly think as one and know when the other is in danger, wounded or dead. They are closer than brothers." After a brief pause she added without thinking and without considering what she was saying, "My father's parabati was so destroyed by his death that he now considered a liability to have on a hunt. I would never wish that on someone."

Before Boromir or any other member of the Fellowship could continue the thread and continue to dig under her armor, she sped up and, with a brief nod to Gandalf, and she vanished into the trees that grew along the path to scout. But she could feel the man of Gondor's eyes on her as she left and she could not help but wonder about him. In the past few days she had noticed how he would sometimes stare at the spot beneath Frodo's clothes where the Ring hung as if listening to the soft, menacing whispers that Aiedale occasionally caught on the air.

She would watch the man of Gondor. He was a mundane and she may have revaluated her view of Aragorn, but Boromir would always remain lumped with the rest of the human race to her. Yes his words had been polite and eased some of the tension between them, but it did not change some things. It didn't matter that he had been more than kind to Mery and Pippen as we went out of his way to make sure they acclimatized to the long journey that they had signed themselves up for. His dedication to training them and speaking with them might have been admirable if she cared for such things.

No…she thought…no she did not trust him farther than she could throw him. Which, she thought with a small smirk, wasn't very far considering all the armor he wore.

She wasn't that strong after all.

The weather, while it had grown milder as they traveled south, turned cold once more as they began to climb up. The sky was often clear, bright and the sun held little warmth. They had come to a high point in the path they followed and could now see the lofty mountains in all their glory. At the left of this impressive wall rose three peaks that glowed red in the sunlight as it bathed them.

Gandalf stood by Frodo and he seemed rather pleased. "We have done well," said the wizard as he raised one arm to point towards the peaks. "Let us be glad that this first stage is safely over. I think we will rest here, today and tonight before we move on. Then we shall continue and go down the Silverlode into the secret woods and so the Great River, and then…"

He paused.

"Yes, and where then?" inquired Merry as the silence lengthened.

"To the end of the journey – in the end," said the wizard but he said no more. His words of what waited for them at the end went unspoken.

Aiedale, standing close to the hobbits, held back her own remark to that comment. She did not wish to lower the spirits of the hobbits with words of caution and warning of the many dangers they must still face. Instead she followed the example of those worldlier members that made up the rest of their party and tried to enjoy the peace of their resting place in a deep hollow shrouded by great bush of holly.

Sam, in a low voice to Frodo, whispered that he was surprised they still had many miles left to traverse. "I'm beginning to think it's time we got a sight of that Fiery Mountain, Mister Frodo."

Apparently, thought Aiedale with a small inward laugh, distances on maps meant nothing to the round, terribly loyal hobbit. Resting a hand on Sam's shoulder she lowered her head and murmured in his ear, "Someone once told me, Sam, that the length of the journey is always solved by walking."

Sam had significantly warmed up to her in the weeks they had slowly come to know each other, raised his head to look at her with a rather annoyed expression on his face. "That's what I have been doing," said the hobbit, "but that doesn't seem to get any shorter, Miss."

Aiedale gave his shoulder a little squeeze before dropping her hand. "We are all travelers Sam in this world," she looked up at the crystal blue sky, "everyone one of us is traveling somewhere. We find many things on the roads we choose to walk, but the best thing to find is an honest friend." With a small smile to Frodo who had been listening to their conversation she half-wondered at the friendship between the two hobbits before leaving them to work on arrows.

Frodo relied on Sam just as Sam relied on Frodo. Merry and Pippen had a similar kind of relationship and she was reminded, painfully, of her own cousins. What she had told Boromir the previous day had been correct – she knew them as well as they knew her. It had taken time, arguments, experience and plenty of patience to get to the point when Peter, Eleanor and her went out they didn't even need to ask each other what the plan was. Now James, her brother, was a part of their close group and they had made up their team.

What a sensational team it was. Sensational.

Shaking her head of such thoughts, Aiedale forced herself back to the present moment. She hadn't expected a rest like this and she would make use of it.

The peace did not last long, however. Most of the party excluding Aragorn, Legolas and Aiedale had fallen asleep in the warm sunlight. But Aragorn was anxious about the lack of sound which, according to the Ranger, was terribly unsettling and which the more watchful members of the company had noticed. Legolas and Aiedale were both crafting arrows though they had also noticed the mysterious lack of natural sounds which made the breathing of the sleeps, the swish of the pony's tale and occasional movements seem loud. It was enough that they felt the need to watch even as they keep up the pretense of relaxation.

It was Legolas who saw it first.

Away in the South a dark patch appeared, and grew, and drove north like flying smoke in the wind. Only it was going against the wind. With a quick, alarmed word, Legolas had stirred everyone to action. Aiedale quickly destroyed the signs of fire and assisted the hastily awoken Fellowship to hide beneath the thick branches of the holly bushes.

For flying low to the ground, were flocks of birds that flew at a great speed. They were wheeling and circling, and traversing all the land as if they were searching for something. Then they were flying over top the Fellowship's hiding place and they could make out that they were a crow of some kind. As they passed overhead they caused the land to fall in shadow so denser were their numbers and the air was filled with their caws.

Not until they had dwindled into the distance, north and west, and the sky was clear again did the Fellowship slip from their hiding place. "Crebain are flying high," said Aragorn warningly, "they are spying on the land. Hollin is being watched."

"In that case so is the Redhorn Gate," said Gandalf, "we will have to cross that bridge when we come to it I am afraid."

Aiedale just looked around at the land which had returned to its normal, wild, quietly noisy state. The birds had resumed their chirping and the trees were back to whispering in the soft breeze. Some sort of spell seemed to have been broken as if the land had been holding its breath as the Crebain flew over. Yet, while tense after the experience and the reminder of danger, she could not help but wonder: what kind of enemy used birds as spies?

And that thought led to another one: How would you escape such spies? How would you outsmart such an enemy?

Well she was always up for a challenge.

He had beautiful eyes, she mused as she examined the Inquisitor who had taken over after the death of Imogen Herondale. Beauitful eyes behind dreadful specs, and a lithe and powerful body beneath scholarly tweed that made him purposely look middle-aged and useless. It was wonderful to flirt with him, razor-edged literary banter, like Beatrice and Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing. A battle of wit, and a test, too. But he was playing God. She noticed, she knew it, and she didn't care. It was such a thrill to be one of the archangels, the avengers, the chosen few.

A Darklighter to the end...

Guided by Aragorn the Fellowship came upon a good path that had, to Frodo, must have been a well-traveled road at some point in the history of this land. They had made camp for the night and the stars had sprung forth as the moon began to rise when Aiedale returned from her scouting. The Shadowhunter had been acting alone as Legolas had elected to remain with the others, but she had seen something or rather she had thought she had seen something. It had to have been something…

And she was rarely wrong. In fact she could count on one hand the number of times her gut instincts had been wrong.

She had been moving swiftly in the growing shadows as darkness swept across the land when her senses had gone on high alert and her Sensor had buzzed in its hidden pocket. Freezing in place next to a tree trunk she had raised her knife a little as she scanned her surroundings. Nothing. There was nothing following her on the ground, frowning at the quickly growing feeling and buzzing Sensor, she had grabbed a branch and pulled herself up into the tree.

It was lucky the branches had been thick enough to let her break the canopy and look out over the other trees. Something had made her slip the knife away and draw her bow instead as she scanned the land for anything – something – that was out of place. A glittering lake from which a small river flowed from, lay glittering a little ways away and she estimated that the Fellowship were a few miles in front of her.

But there was nothing. Nothing but fading daylight and growing shadows as the night descended down upon the world. The lack of anything to justify her sense of danger had made her unconsciously fit an arrow to the bow and continue scanning the ground from her high perch.

Later she would curse herself for not realizing sooner where the danger was coming from. The danger wasn't from the ground, but from the air. Something made her look to the horizon where the darkness was deepest and her keen gaze saw something detach itself from that darkness and it was moving. It was flying. Something evil and dark – something that was getting very close and she didn't even think. Something that was flying against the wind and definitely not a cloud. It wasn't big, but big enough to be noticeable against the dark blue horizon.

As the black, almost dragon-like shadow swept close to her she moved quickly. Slipping the regular arrow back into the quiver, she drew one of the explosive ones and placed it to the bow string as she pulled the string that would activate it and make it explode on landing. Then, waiting for the exact moment, she raised the bow and fired the arrow as the black shadow swept over her. It was flying low, just low enough that her powerful bow was able to launch its missile.

The wind from the shadow's wing made the trees tremble, but the arrow still flew true and was carried by the force of its flight straight onto the creatures back or what Aiedale assumed was its back. Whatever it hit was obviously solid enough to activate the arrow, however, for a blinding flash of light and crack made Aiedale laugh out loud. The shadow creature let out a long howl of agony and tumbled through the air as it found it was suddenly and mysteriously unable to stay aloft.

It crashed into the large, glittering lake that Aiedale could make out a few miles away. The black shape tumbled through the air until it vanished into the silvery water and still the Shadowhunter was no closer to determining what it was. Whatever the creature had been, however, it had been vaguely dragon like and definitely not anything she wanted getting too close to the Fellowship. It had been something dark, something that had been searching the land and would have no doubt flown over the Ring had she not been able to bring it down. She could only hope that the loss of the creature went unnoticed for a little while by whoever controlled it.

Looking to the last rays of the sun she knew she had to hurry back to her companions. They had to hear of this and, no doubt, they would be worried for her and maybe even see the flash of light in the sky. Has she not been so anxious to return to them she would have made the run to the lake to see what the creature had been, but there wasn't time enough nor did she want to put up with too long of a lecture.

As she dropped to the ground and made her way as silently as a shadow through the trees and back to the faint trail that she had left so could follow her way back to the Fellowship, she couldn't stop but feel rather proud of herself. This was who she was. What she was doing right now was what she was good at – what she was meant to do. Let Aragorn fret over her, Gandalf quiz her and the others look on with varying degrees of worry and concern. She had just felled a strange, large shadowy beast with one – alright unique – arrow and it made her thrum with adrenalin.

It didn't matter where she was. Some things always made her feel alive and at one with the world.

Nothing further had happened that night unless one counted the hurried discussion that had been held over what Aiedale had seen and done about it. Legolas had wanted to go and see the creature that had fallen in the lake, but Gandalf had not wanted any of them to leave. Aiedale had been rather annoyed and almost tempted to break with the orders set by the wizard and go see what she had brought down.

Instead they set a double watch and were gone before dawn as the wizard and Ranger set a stiff pace that the hobbits struggled to keep up with even with Boromir's encouraging words and stories. The elf and Shadowhunter took up the back and doing their best to erase the signs of their passage. Aiedale had wanted to go scouting again, but she had been firmly told 'no' by the wizard who seemed to want everyone close no matter her arguments. The refusal put her in a dark mood, and Legolas was almost tempted to leave her to her dark silence and black looks instead of putting up with them. Mortals, the elf decided, could be strange enough but Shadowhunters were a different thing entirely. He didn't quite know what to do with this girl for she was no elleth or mortal child.

When the sun did make an appearance it was bright. But the air was chill again; already the wind was turning back towards the east and the path the walked was slowly taking them upwards. For two more days they marched on, climbing steadily but ever more slowly as their road wound up into the hills, and the mountains towered up, nearer and nearer. On the third morning Caradhras rose before them, a proud mountain, tipped with snow like silver, but with sheer naked sides, dull red as if stained with blood.

They camped in a thick grove of pine trees and Aiedale was preparing for sleep when she caught the tail end of a conversation between Aragorn and Gandalf.

"Th"re is another way, and not by the pass of the Caradhras," murmured the wizard around his pipe. "A dark and secret way that we have spoken of before, Aragorn."

What way did the wizard speak of? Aiedale pretended to be asleep, but she was straining her ears to catch the Ranger's reply.

"Perils unknown and known will grow," said the Ranger. "Aiedale's meeting has already shown us this, but we must go on. Further south there are no passes and the Gap of Rohan is not an option." The man was silent for a long moment, "I will not speak of that other way. It fills me with cold fear."

"It will not frighten the Shadowhunter," said the wizard as if it was an afterthought or, Aiedale suspected, another point in some old argument. "With her by my side I do not think that road will be as dark or as perilous as it would have been."

"Say nothing of it anymore," hissed the man angrily. "She may not mind to tread there and you say I know nothing of what she can do. She might just have felled a creature of darkness and has laughed at Black Riders, but I do not care. That way I will not consider until there is no other road."

"You do not know anything of her," said the wizard, "and I know only a little. She is not like anything you know Aragorn. What she chooses to show is carefully presented so that you are left with more questions than answers. But I do know that, if we do take that road, I would trust her with all of our fates."

The Ranger sat very still beside the wizard. Aiedale could almost imagine the dark frown on his face, the grey eyes burning with intensity and she found herself tempted to march up to them and demand why they spoke of her so. What road was it that they were considering? Why was she so important if they choose to walk it? The Shadowhunter made a silent promise to corner the two in the morning and, if it came down to it, forcibly squeeze the answers from them. It was bad enough to be restricted from patrolling that day, but this…this was intolerable and insulting.

"That may be," said the Ranger, "and I may feel the same way but I will not walk that path unless forced to. It is a journey I will only take if we have no other way." The emphasis on 'other' was clear and the Ranger sounded as close to losing his temper as Aiedale had ever heard him. It was lucky that everyone, even the light sleeping elf, seemed unaware of the conversation.

"We must decide before we go further," answered the wizard as he tapped his pipe against a stone.

"We will weigh the matter in our minds, while the other sleep," said Aragorn and his voice held a note of finality. "But I still think you ask too much of her. You ask too much of yourself, Gandalf."

The conversation ended and Aiedale turned her head to the side. Frodo was lying not far away from her and she saw that his bright blue eyes were open and wide. He had clearly heard the conversation as well and it had clearly raised emotions and questions for him. For it was because of him and the Ring that she might have to do something that would be dangerous and that Aragorn did not even want to risk it.

Ignoring the chance that either the Ranger or wizard would see or overhear, Aiedale rose and sat down beside the hobbit. Looking down at him she pretended, for a brief moment, that he was James and the thought made her soften and the pounding questions quiet down a little. Very softly as the pines rustled in a faint, chill breeze, she asked. "It will be fine, Frodo."

The hobbit was looking up at her, his eyes no less troubled and his pale little face looking up at her as if searching for some sort of reassurance. "But what if I fail – what if you die or any of the others die because of me." His words while soft were no less urgent or panicked. "I do not want to let people down. I do not want to let the world down."

"You've never seen death have you?" she asked gently and, unconsciously, she dropped a hand to his shoulder. The ground she was sitting on was cold and hard, the stars bright above them and the world seemed to have stopped. They were frozen in time on this mountain side and a Shadowhunter was offering the hobbit the same words of quiet determination that her aunt had offered her in another world.

"No," whispered the hobbit, "and I do not want to be the cause of it."

"Oh Frodo," said the Shadowhunter and the hobbit had thought she had never sounded more human, more approachable then she did right then. "I am still terrified of killing someone and of failing. I know how it feels to have everything resting on you. You and no one else, but you must understand something." Looking deep into the little hobbit's overly large eyes she said, "We choose to accompany you. Each for our own reasons, some more selfish than others, but we all choose. I gave you my loyalty Frodo and I am glad I did. You are not alone and, if you must blame anything for whatever happens, blame fate or angels who don't seem to care if we live or die. It is not your fault – I do not care what happens – and you must learn that. I promise you this by all the stars in the sky: It is not your fault."

"I couldn't say that to myself," she continued, "because sometimes it has been my fault. But you aren't a Shadowhunter, Frodo, and neither are you a soldier." Letting out a small, breathy laugh she murmured, "You are Frodo and that is enough. I have faith in you and in your heart and the courage you don't even know you have. I have faith. If anyone can do it…you can."

The hobbit did not seem to really believe her and she didn't blame him. He would have to find his own courage and find his own way through this mess. It might strip him of some things, but if he was anything like James then…then she thought he would make it just fine. A little bruised and beat-up, but not the bitter, cold and cynical person she had come out as. She would do her best to get him to the other side.

"Thank you," said the hobbit, "for believing and…and coming."

"Don't forget what I said," she murmured, "because I hate repeating myself and I hate it when people dismiss themselves. You are stronger than you know, Frodo, and no matter what happens you will do what you set out to do."

"I'll try not to," said the hobbit and Aiedale saw the glimmer of a smile on his face.

"Good," she said and then added, "sleep well Frodo Baggins of the Shire. Dream of what awaits you on the other side of this journey."

Silently she rose from her place beside the hobbit and saw, as she did so, that Gandalf was watching her. The wizard's face was lost in shadows but she knew he was watching her for she could feel the force of his curious, demanding gaze on her. Part of her was furious with him for the words spoken between him and Aragorn, but part of her was determined to shock him at every turn. To make him unsure of how to treat her and make him learn that no one – no matter what they were – ever claimed her trust by treating her like a tool. She wanted to spite him and teach him lessons she felt he had somehow missed.

With a large smirk on her face that she knew he could see with the clear moonlight falling across her face, she inclined her head in mock reverence.

This has been a slow update but I was stuck on this chapter and focusing on my other story. I am sorry. But here you go! Hope this chapter helps make up for it!

Review Replies:

nagozualdean: The fighting should start soon! So glad you enjoy this story!

SHADZ: Thank you :) here is your update!

LadyArcher: Yes it is good that the journey has finally begun. Hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you for the reviews/motivation! :)

Chris: haha I think you are right! I agree - Aiedale would not be amused to hear that you thought they were 'lovers spats!" lol ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter!