They walked for many hours, speaking only occasionally to each other as they did so. Finally, they reached the forest they had seen in the distance, and Legolas looked around them in fondness. The woods were calming, and it felt as though some of their pain lifted as Legolas began to speak of the forest.

"Ah, Lothlorien. The fairest of all the dwellings of my people. There are no trees like the trees of this land, for in autumn the leaves fall not, but turn to gold. Not till the spring comes and the new green opens do they fall, and then the boughs are laden with yellow flowers; and the floor of the wood is golden, and golden is the roof, and its pillars are of silver, for the bark of the trees is smooth and grey. So still our songs in Mirkwood say." A calm passed over all but Gimli, who looked around nervously at the trees.

"Stay close, young Hobbits." he said. "They say a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell." A small chuckle came from Miriel where she walked beside Aragorn, and the faint ghost of a smile appeared on the other ranger's face at Gimli's unease. Miriel heard a voice in her head as they moved, but she did not fear it.

Welcome, Miriel of Gondor. Your mother's blood flows in your veins, strong and clear through your heart. You are gladly received.

The voice was calming, but she did not have time to dwell on it. Gimli was speaking of his sharp eyes and keen ears, when arrows appeared in front of all present, and Miriel nearly laughed, an amused glance shared with Aragorn as they stayed put.

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After much deliberation and near pleading, Haldir, the marchwarden of Lothlorien, agreed that they all may go forward to the Lady of the Wood. Somehow, Miriel knew that it was this lady who had spoken to her before, and there was no fear in her heart as they neared the glistening platform in the trees.

At the top of the stairs, the lord and lady of the wood appeared, a bright light seeming to come from their very beings. They greeted the Fellowship, and it seemed that the Lady Galadriel saw their minds. Sam could not help but notice that the blue eyes of the lady were identical in shade to those of Miriel, but it was a passing notion. Miriel once again heard the voice in her head, drowning the physical speech of the elf woman before her.

The daughter of Finduilas has finally come to Lothlorien. Your arrival has long been awaited, child.

.

Come to meet me at the basin by the trickling waterfall when the moon is at its highest, and I shall tell you what I may.

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The Fellowship changed and went to rest, entering the shady glen under the rising moon. Miriel was last to arrive, clothed in a simple nightgown the color of the stars above, kindly leant to her by a lady somewhere in the wood. She sat with Aragorn, who had seated himself alone, for she knew he wished for answers, and they were answers she could provide. He turned to her as she sat, and simply looked at her for a moment. Then, he spoke, and his voice was quiet and sad.

"How did you know? Did he..." She shook her head, blonde waves shifting on her shoulders.

"No, he told me nothing. I do not think he knew himself until it was time. But he used to tell stories in Gondor of the creatures of old, and we both knew he was the only one who could face it. I knew what could awaken in that mountain, and I only wish my fears had not been the truth." He nodded, looking at his hands.

"I'm sorry, I just..." He trailed off, but her hand on his own brought his eyes up to hers.

"I know." He looked back down at his hands. Then he stood, and moved to a railing at the edge of a long drop. She moved to his side, and he took a deep breath as he looked down below them.

"I don't know what to do, Miriel. I do not know how to lead this Fellowship, and certainly not without Gandalf. I can't do this alone." He saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye as she stood beside him.

"I have told you before, Aragorn. You are not alone. Gandalf trusted you to do this, and I do as well. You have any help I can offer you, and I do not believe any hope we have to be false. The Fellowship may be forced to break again before this is all over, but the bonds between us all will not. This is our path, Aragorn, whether or not it be the one we would choose for ourselves. All we can do is travel it to the best of our ability. Have hope, for not all is lost."

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Soon enough, all had fallen asleep, and the moon rose to its highest point not long after Frodo returned from his walk in the darkened forest. Miriel arose in silence, and walked with silent steps to where Galadriel had bade her come, only to find the elf standing there, waiting. Galadriel smiled kindly at the young female, and beckoned her closer.

"I know you have many questions. This pool, holds the answers to your past, but it can also show your future. Unlike most, you have a choice. Will you choose to see your future, or the past that is your birthright?" Miriel did not hesitate in her choice, she knew it was the right one.

"The past is where my answers lie, I do not wish my future to be influenced by the appearance of possibilities that may never come to pass." Galadriel smiled at her. This was the one they had waited for for so long.

"Then look into the water, child, and you shall see your birthright." Miriel stepped up to the pool, ignoring the useless step before her, and peered into the smooth mirror of water.

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A red stallion gallops into battle, its rider a fierce woman with blonde hair and piercing eyes. As she shouts her battlecry to the heavens, more riders appear behind her, following their leader's path as they cut through ancient demons and creatures no longer remembered but for their image. The metal that reinforced her wooden shield glinted in the sunlight, and her sword shone silver. The black stain of blood upon it did not remain as she raised it again and again, striking down the foes who could not be killed by the men of her country. Her followers, women of all looks and walks of life, screamed their rage to the skies as they tore through the hoards who had slaughtered their families and their friends. The enemy had underestimated the wrath of these women, and they took payment for the loss of their people in the blood of their foes. The dark forces cowered before them, as they raged and roared and tore at the evil that strangled their world.

When the evil had retreated, if only for now, the sun shone all the brighter, and the beads in their hair, metal on their fingers, and rings in their ears glinted in the midday sun. They raised their swords and roared their triumph across the plains, the enemy running as if the whips of their masters were at their heels. The woman on the red stallion pulled a horn from her side, and blew it loud and strong across the lands, and the riders chased the darkness all the way back to the land from whence it came. It was that day that the evil learned to fear the Shieldmaidens of Middle Earth, and the sound of that horn as it thundered across the plains. When they left this world, granted an eternity in the undying lands, the darkness came back.

The evils forgot what it was to fear. Men struck at it, and elves shot at it, and even dwarves hacked away at it, but the evils just laughed, growing arrogant in their reprieve, and they gained the upper hand. All they now bother to remember is the bravery and unwavering courage of man as they beat it back, but they do not remember the fear. As men grow tired, the darkness grows strong, and once again breeds creatures that cannot be killed by the hands of men. This is your birthright, daughter of Gondor. Claim it. It is time for anger at those who have destroyed your home and people, time for the strength of your heart to show itself. It is time for the Shieldmaidens to return.

It is time for the evil to learn once again what it is to fear angry women, and they will not forget it again.