We got out of Moria uneventfully. Surprisingly, not a single goblin heard us, even when Gimli released some very odorous and loud gas. I won't go into too much detail, but let's just say it wasn't very pleasant smelling.

The Fellowship and I were traveling at a quick pace through an open field of wild, grass. I remembered it in the movie, except that had been a short scene before they entered the woods (where Legolas was running like a GIRL). Right now, I could see nothing but a huge field ahead of me. No trees in sight. The weather was moderately nice, but it wasn't soon before humidity dampened my skin and grey clouds began to roll in the distance. Great, an approaching storm.

God, how long had I been in Middle-Earth? We'd spent four days in Moria, plus the one night on the Cahadras...had it only been five days? My clothes were now as dirty as Aragorn's, my hair was screaming for conditioner and my legs were sore (and a bit on the hairy side after not shaving). I had bumps and bruises everywhere, blisters on my toes and mosquito bites all over my arms, which I scratched at like a dog. Gandalf had very carefully re-bandaged my head, but it was throbbing dully as I walked. Ugh, didn't they have ANY kind of pain-killing drug in Middle-Earth?

Aragorn must've read my mind from my expression, because he spoke. "Don't worry, Evelyn, you'd be better off feeling pain for a short while than feeling numb and then starting to do something called DYING."

"Ugh," I moaned. "Gandalf, when are we going to reach Lothlorien?" A scatter of "Yeahs," and "When, Gandalf?" came from the hobbits' direction. I wasn't the only one tired, apparently.

"That is not information for a GIRL like you to know," Boromir snarled. His expression looked like a seven-year-old trapped at his grandma's house, surrounded by smelly cats and cheek-pinching aunts.

"You're sexist!" I snapped back angrily, only the word came out sounding like 'Sexiest'. He flushed bright red, then turned white, opened his mouth, and clamped it shut again. Merry and Pippin started to snicker quietly.

I didn't feel embarrassed-in fact-it felt good to have Boromir have nothing to say for once. Even if I did have to call him sexiest.


"Look, I see some trees, look there!" pointed an excited Merry, jumping up and down. All heads turned to the direction he was pointing at, and sure enough, there was a distant outline of a vast forest. Lorien!

Unfortunately, at that instant a clap of thunder rang overhead and a sticky, warm rain had started to descend. Gimli gave a yelp, only it sounded a bit odd because it was high pitched and Gimli had a very gurgling voice. Anyway, the uncomfortable rain was soaking everyone to the bone. Including me.

"Arg," I moaned. "Now all the grease from our hair is going to roll off onto the ground and wipe out the animals. Especially you, Aragorn, you'll probably make worms extinct or something." Aragorn shot me a glare. He turned to Gandalf.

"Mithrandir," he said. "When we reach Lothlorien, is Evelyn not going to be dropped off there?"

"Well excuuuuuse me-"

"Enough," Gandalf said. Aragorn shut up. I followed his example. "We should arrive under the realm of Galadriel by nightfall, and then we shall decide Evelyn's fate." Somehow, his words made my skin crawl despite the hot rain. I was a bit reluctant to have Galadriel peer into my mind. That woman was even scarier than Halle Berry with white hair. (A/N: Sorry, I had to add that in. It's just that Storm in X-Men reminds me of Galadriel for some crazy reason only the Gods know.)

We trudged on (excluding light-footed, graceful, irritatingly balanced Legolas, who kind of nanced along) for what seemed like an eternity. The temperature was so hot and the air so humid that before long, I had to wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead. The grass poked under my baggy pajama pants (which had turned from a light blue into a nasty greyish color), making my skin itch. I wanted badly to enjoy a nice, cool bath, even if it had to be under the same roof as a crazy psycho Elvish woman and her husband who spoke one syllable once every 3 minutes...

Finally, the very wet and cranky Fellowship reached the woodland Lorien. It was dusk, and already dark shadows crept. I shivered, shaking a few drops of rainwater from my hair. Wordlessly, we entered the forest. Behind me, I could hear Frodo's heavy breathing as he hurried to match Gandalf's pace. The old wizard had an unreadable expression on his face. Pretty soon, Gimli had broken the tense silence with his little warning speech about Galadriel.

"Hey," I interrupted the conversation. "She's not that bad."

Gimli smirked. "Huh. And how would you know?"

I didn't feel like explaining about the whole 'I've-watched-her-become- freaky-and-green-a-million-times-already-and-then-suddenly-turn-to-the-good- side-just-because-Peter-Jackson-can-do-whatever-he-wants' thing, so I just shrugged. "She can't be a witch, or why would we be visiting her?"

"To drop YOU off somewhere," Boromir said quietly. Maybe it was the rain, or maybe because it was dark outside, but I was getting really pissed off at him. He'd been snapping or muttering sarcastic remarks at almost every sentence I'd said to anyone. By the quick look Legolas and Aragorn exchanged, I could tell that obviously the tension was stretching even more. I remained silent long enough to make the pause awkward before talking.

"Okay, look here, buddy. You really must be sexist or something, because I haven't done anything to harm you, okay? So what's up with this attitude you've been giving me? What the heck is wrong with you? Now, I'd understand if it was PMS or something, but seriously, you're clearly being retarded. Now you're supposed to die later on, and so is your father, but I can change all that. Gandalf was supposed to d-"

"What?" Frodo asked, alarmed. Gandalf hushed him. I had the feeling he'd known all along he was destined to fall with the Balrog, but I kept quiet.

"Gandalf, well, he wasn't going to technically die, just kind of swim around and play in the snow and get a new outfit. But, anyway, thanks to my superior distracting skills (batted my eyelashes a bit), he's here with us right now. Now you, Borormir, you'd better stop acting so arrogant or maybe I'll just let you sit there and get shot." I took a long breath and waited for his reaction, but he was staring off somewhere. However, his face had become flushed. Bullseye, hit him where it hurts. Heehee, I showed him.

"There is nothing but glory that awaits the Stewards of Gondor," he muttered under his breath, averting his eyes. Aragorn narrowed his eyes.

"Uh, uh, Gandalf, shouldn't we be reaching Lorien quickly?" I struggled to change the subject. I really didn't want too much hatred between Aragorn and Boromir, because with Boromir being alive, who knew who was going to be king? Heck, I didn't want to have to change the name of the third book! I imagined a "Return of the PMSing Steward" book cover with pissed off Boromir and giggled. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Well I for one still think that this whole Lorien business is-oh!" Gimli was interrupted by an arrow notched not more than two inches from his neck. Crap, I'd forgotten about all this. A cool metal was pressed against my throat too. Great. Just great.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could've shot him in the dark," Haldir delivered his line with perfect rhythm.

"Hey, you're going to die too!" I thought outloud, suddenly remembering. Uh oh, not a good time. He turned around quickly and stared at me for a while.

"Who...are you?" he finally asked. "Why are you wearing such ridiculous pants?"

I was shocked. "You...you don't like my 'jammies?!"

"Is that what they're called?" he now asked, a small smile crawling on his lips. I never knew Haldir could smile. Without waiting for me to answer the question, he lowered his bow and said, "Very well, I see there is no danger present, as any enemy with intelligence would not be wearing those awful grey pants. Aragorn, 'tis good to see you again." He and Aragorn looked at each other for quite a long time. I wondered if they were gay. "And Mithrandir, why, I did not see you!" Haldir flushed a bit. Ha.

Gandalf didn't seem to mind. "And who would notice an old meddlesome man shrouded in grey, standing in the back?" he said, eyes twinkling. The wizard's authority struck me. Our sojourn here was going to be very different with Gandalf. Our whole journey was going to be changed dramatically. I wondered if Frodo was going to offer Galadriel the Ring, or how Gandalf and Galadriel would act to each other, both so strong and old...

Then I remembered that it was Galadriel Gandalf had turned to after his fight with the Balrog. They had to be on friendly terms. However, that memory also brought up something else - Gandalf had been NAKED. I suddenly wanted to empty the contents of my stomach. Fortunately, there was no time for that, as Haldir started walking briskly with his bunch of bigender Elves. Only Legolas could keep up with the Elves without kind of scurrying along, not wanting to be left behind. Stupid long Elvish legs, I thought.

To probably everyone's delight, the denseness of the forest was so great that the rain could not pierce through the thick leaves. We followed Haldir for twenty minutes or so, although I couldn't tell, because I'd lost my watch somewhere in Moria. Haldir, Legolas, Aragorn and Gandalf chatted in Elvish at the front, while I walked with the hobbits, warily keeping my distance from grumpy Boromir. He looked uncomfortable.

The forest was thick and dark. I don't know how Haldir even remembered where to go, because there was no trail as he walked on long wild grass. The amount I sweated probably could've filled a pool, but I didn't to complain. After an endless walk of sinuous turns and confusing trails, we reached a dark, dense part of the forest. Haldir walked up to an especially large tree with pear-shaped golden leaves and whispered some Elvish word. Immediately, its huge swaying branches brushed aside and its golden leaves moved away. In front of us was a magical realm.

Peter Jackson's a genius, and so is Howard Shore, but no amount of directing nor music could've captured the beauty of Lorien. There was a stunned silence. Even Gandalf's eyes were glazed. We were looking down into a valley. A thousand-no, a million golden-leafed trees glittered in a pale sunlight that shafted through their impossibly thick branches. The trees stretched up so high I couldn't see their peaks, only stand there like a midget and gawk. The ground was matted with a pale green carpet of grass. The place seemed timeless, eternally swaying gently in the breeze. Oddly, I couldn't see any Elves.

"Where is everyone?" I poked Aragorn, who was standing (unfortunately for him) next to me.

"I think the dwellings are up in the trees," he whispered in an awed voice. Of course, the Elves lived in the trees! How could I have forgotten? Was the movie fading out of memory? I had a sudden moment of panic, and then decided to stop worrying, as I was actually in the movie and this, this I would never forget in a million bazillion years even if some horrible mental image popped up like Michael Douglas naked wiped everything from my mind.

Wordlessly, Haldir led us to the thickest of the trees. In a stupefied silence, we found ourselves climbing up a glass staircase, winding up around the trees...

We'd been climbing up for quite a while when I made the huge mistake of looking down, and oh God, we were HIGH. I felt myself becoming sick, then quickly focused on something else. For the rest of the climb, I was closing my eyes and whispering a prayer that the glass would not break and I would not fall to a squashy pulp at the bottom of the stairs in the middle of some movie I wasn't even supposed to be in. God, life was messed up.

We reached the top of the stairs, all quite exhausted. On a raised platform were two seats decorated in silver lining ("Oooh, pretty!" I said, and Gandalf shushed me). I recognized the slender form of Galadriel and the not- so-slender-but-not-as-fat-as-Gimli form of Celeborn. Great, major snooze time. That man was like a turtle who'd eaten a million slugs, drank warm milk and hadn't taken Viagra for many, many years. They pair began to descend slowly down the stairs. Galadriel's eyes shot my way, and a piercing voice intruded in my head.


'Er?' Huge moment of panic. 'Uh, uh, hi? Miss Galadriel? I mean, uh, Mrs.?'

'Yes, greetings to you too. Let's go to the point. I know not why you are here, but you will play an important role in the Fellowship...'

'Uh, thanks?'

This was really strange. I just kind of thought what I wanted to say, and she could read it immediately!

'We shall talk later tonight.'

'Um, okay, uh, by the way...'


'Uh, you probably uh, think I'm crazy, uh, but please uh, don't tell Legolas that I uh, have his brush?' I cringed.

Galadriel smiled and winked at me despite talking to Gandalf. Dude, this woman was so multifunctional.

'No problem.'

I breathed a sigh of relief and decided to watch in amusement as Galadriel turned to Boromir and he started trembling. I decided I liked Galadriel after all. Even if she did turn a bit green now and then.


"Ah!" I cried to myself as I slung my pack over my shoulder onto the bed. I kicked off my stinky boots immediately and shrugged off the thick dirty cloak on my back. The Lothlorien housing was actually very nice, even though the dwellings were much higher than I'd anticipated. Oh well, everything would be all right if I didn't look out the window. Each visitor was led to a guest bedroom, and I was pretty darn glad to rid my shoulders of the burden.

I took a good look around the room. It was furnished lightly with a few plush armchairs, a bureau and a bed. No stereo, no bookcase, no millions-of- useless-but-too-adorable-to-throw-away stuffed animals. I like the simplicity. It kind of reminded me of Feng Shui, only without the weird Asian words I couldn't pronounce correctly (When I say Shui, it sounds like 'Shooey' and all the genius Chinese people kind of frown at me and mutter something about being a redneck under their breaths).

I walked around the chamber slowly. It really was nice. The air was perfumed with a nice, soft scent from the tray of dried rose petals on the nightstand. I reached a door, and without thinking, turned the knob. Immediately, hot air blew in my face. Sticking my nose in, I realized I was in some sort of bathroom. Yes, there, a bath!

And Gimli in it. Topless. Red curly chest hair invading the earth.

"ARGH!!!!! YOU!!!!!" we both screamed at the same time. Immediately I slammed the door shut with a loud bang. I leaned against it, breathing heavily. The shock was immense. Goodness, how the heck was I supposed to know this stupid door led to HIS bathing room? What if he hadn't been in the water?! Then he would've been totally NAKED. I felt myself turning green. Oh, why was THIS door leading to THAT room???? Why? Unless, unless...

Oh no, did this mean that I was destined to share a bathroom with GIMLI THE DWARF for the next week or so?!

Knock. Knock. Knock. I spun around. Someone was at the door, rapping impatiently. Was it Galadriel? Ooh, maybe Haldir!

"W-who is it?" I asked. My voice was already parched from screaming.

"Open the door!" Hmmm, an angry voice. I'd gotten a lot of those at home. I walked over to the door and opened it. Standing in front of me was Legolas, his face flushed and his hair a bit messed up.

"Your hair's messed up," I pointed out bluntly. He flared.

"I KNOW it is." Ha, he didn't have a brush! "Look, that day or night in Moria, I could not tell, do you remember taking my pack?"

I looked at him with feigned innocence, eyes wide and curious. "Why, no, didn't Gandalf have it with him?"

He licked his lips impatiently. "Yes, he'd taken both our packs."

I shrugged. "So go ask him, genius."

Legolas was getting more irritated by the second. His ears were turning red, then his neck, then his whole face. "I'm missing something very important, Evelyn."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Well, it's a bit personal."

"Come on, Legolas, it's not like I'm going to tell anybody. I'm a crazed lunatic, for heaven's sake!"

This seemed to convince him. He sighed. Then, in a low whisper, "I lost my brush."

"Hmmm, that's strange," I pointed out. I wanted to explode. My face was turning different shades of red from holding in my laughter.

"Yes, it is!" he frowned and kind of pouted, looking very much like Haley Joel Osment. "And it had been a gift from my father a thousand years ago!"

"O-oh?" I tried to stifle a laugh, but to no avail. My mouth let out a snort. Legolas looked at me strangely.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

"NoIhaveastomachachemustgogoodluckwithbrush," I managed to sputter, then closed the door on his face. It was only when I turned around could I double over in laughter, hands clutched on stomach. The look on his face had been so devastated, kind of what Russell Crowe looked like when Denzel won the Oscar last year. Ha. HA. HA!

A/N: Sorry, short chapter. Author is suffering from lack of sugar. Need reviews. Now. Heh.