TRAVELER CHRONICLES: THE FELLOWSHIP

Disclaimer: I don't own LotR! OK? I *really* don't need to be sued!

I have finally decided to do a story where people from our world jump to M.E. I hope it is ok. I am mixing in bits of the book and bits of the movies. It will all be from first person, but from different peoples' perspectives.

~*~

Prologue

You have probably heard a lot of stories of a person jumping to the world of LotR. They usually have a terrible or nonexistent home life, or at the other end of the spectrum, the perfect family life, are trained fighters or something. Well for me that is not so. My life on Earth was as normal as you can come by. I had loving great parents, though we didn't always see eye to eye, I had a younger sister who was my best friend, though we did have tiffs sometimes, a little brother, who was annoying at times but I still loved tons. I didn't have a lot of friends, but I had a few *very* good ones and I was happy with that. I myself was an average teenager; I had a relatively normal childhood. I, like all humans, have my own talents, idiosyncrasies, faults and insecurities, and I am fine with that. The truth is I am the type of person who you would least expect to do something extraordinary. I was on the swim team, but I was not one of the really good ones. I knew that if I needed to I could defend myself against someone but I was not trained in any fighting style. I was very good at English, grammar and the like; I was fair at math. I liked to write, but I knew that, though I might have write a few books when I got older, I would not be one of the ones who people follow religiously. I enjoyed doing ceramics, but I would never be a great artist. And - well you get the idea.

Whenever I thought about the future I saw myself working and liking my work, but not being a mother or getting married, that was what I saw my sister doing and what she sees herself doing along with having a job, and I was alright with that.

My life was quiet, but nice and while I did often have thoughts of great adventure, I was more or less happy with it.

Naturally it all got turned upside down.

Two years ago, when I was sixteen going on seventeen, school had just let out for the summer; I had just finished my sophomore year of high school and was looking forward to working at an outdoor pool as a lifeguard and helping with swimming lessons.

One day I was coming home from work early because a thunderstorm had hit. I pulled into our driveway and parked the car. I began to run for the back door of my house when I slipped. I closed my eyes thinking, 'Great, now I am going to kiss the lovely, wet, dirty ground.' I soon hit the ground, but it wasn't the rough wet one I was expecting. It was smooth and dry. I opened my eyes and found myself in a room that was really misty. I was trying not to freak out when three beings suddenly appeared before me, literally out of thin air. They told me that I was a person called a Traveler, that it was my destiny and job to jump between realities and times, helping out, and that I was immortal, it is a weird type of immortality where my soul lives on after my body has died like all peoples' do, but mine can take form in different realities to help out. Then they told me that there were several rules, such if I knew what was going to happen I couldn't tell anyone and that I should change the history as little as possible, I was there mostly to help what was to be along. The biggest one was that I could not bind myself to someone, i.e. I was forbidden to fall in love, if I did they told me that I would endure terrible pain, for I would be stripped of my Traveling powers and other things, but I would remain immortal, but it would be a different type of immortality, one that I did not want to experience, true immortality if you wish to call it, where your body never dies. Most might think this great, but the truth is that as a Traveler you learn that it can be a great burden, for we often see millennia's even though our bodies only grow up in our own times and you start to truly feel the weight of it, first just in your soul, but soon you start to feel it in your body. Another thing is that when you become immortal you have to watch people you care about grow- up, grow-old and die while you remain unchanged. And truth be told I, like most Travelers, did not want to live forever, I liked my mortality, it was comforting and relieving. The other big rule was that I could not tell too many people that I was a Traveler, only ones I was being assigned to help and I was to live as normally as possible in my reality and time. So I was not allowed to tell my family or friends. You should try to keep something from my family, we are so close that it is damn near impossible, but I learned ways to, which, unfortunately, included lying to them. But that it beside the point.

They then told that the reason that they called me was because I was to go on my first mission. Then they disappeared without further instruction. I called after them asking for more information, but received no reply. Instead moments later the floor disappeared from under my feet and I began a free fall and landed on a hard floor *very hard.* When I sat up I found myself sitting in the middle of the sitting area of Bag End, surrounded by Gandalf, Bilbo and a bunch of dwarves. I said "Hi," very sheepishly, but no one seemed to understand. They spoke to me in another language that I had never heard before. Then I remember reading in one of the LotR books that Common Tongue, also called Westron, was *not* the same as English, as many people from fan fiction make it. I bit my lip then decided to try a little Elvish; I had been studying it a bit for writing LotR fics. Gandalf was surprised that I knew that, but not CT (Common Tongue.) I explained, as best I could, what had happened. Gandalf decided that I would accompany them on their quest, for he had heard of Traveler, and met two in his life time, and realized, long before I did that my purpose of being there was to go on the quest upon they were about to embark. Thus I found myself going along on the journey that was covered in the Hobbit, but that is not the story I will be telling here. Along the way I became fluent in CT and Sindrian. I was pretty useless, however when it came to fighting at first, and I didn't help the group too much until I found out that I have a talent for throwing knives and fighting with two long Elf-knives and that I was fair with a bow and arrow. I came back many times after that first adventure, often visiting Imladris (Rivendell), Mirkwood and Hobbiton, I also visited Lothlorien once, as well as Gondor and Rohan. Over the course of those visits I learned a lot of other things, like how to move almost silently, hand-to-hand combat, improving my other fighting skills, horseback riding and so much else. Anyway, we finished with that quest and I was sent home. I found myself standing in the rain and that not a moment had passed.

That was the beginning of my career as a Traveler. I swore to myself that I would do my best to help those I am assigned to; that has often meant that I have had to break a rule, or two. By the time I was in my third month of being a Traveler I had broken every rule, except two, telling my family about my being a Traveler, and, most importantly, falling in love.

~*~

The Arrivals, the Party and the Departures

I stepped out of the portal in the middle of the wood. I drew a deep breath of fresh, clean air into my lungs; then gently released it with a sigh. I felt a great deal of the tension that had settled into my back and shoulders slip away. I smiled. "Some things never change," I murmured contentedly.

I shifted my leather sack to a more secure position on my back and began to make my way out of the woods, my soft knee-high boots hardly making a sound on the ground. I wore a simple blue dress that formed to my body until my waist where it then just hung; I didn't want a long flowing skirt or long big sleeves that might get in the way; a thin, worn, brown, leather belt was around my waist and a blue, hooded cloak over it all. I had put most of my knives, daggers, blades and other weapons in my bag, with the exception of the knives hidden in my boots, the dagger tucked into my belt along my spine and my bow and quiver of arrows strapped to my back.

I finally stepped out of the woods and onto the side of the road. I tucked a wisp of my blond hair that had escaped my braid and fallen into my blue eyes, behind my ear. I strained my ears for a sign of someone coming; finally I heard a familiar gruff voice singing, the clopping of horse hooves and the creak of a wagon. I smiled, went closer to the road and stuck out my thumb. Soon a wagon came around the bend, an old man in grey robes and a tall pointy hat with a long grey beard driving it. When he saw me he peered out from under his hat and smiled when he recognized me. He pulled the horse to a stop.

I walked over to the wagon and rested my arms on the edge of it, smiling up at him. "Hey stranger."

He chuckled.

I tilted my head to the side, cheekily. "You wouldn't happen to be heading to Bag End, would you?" I knew the answer already.

His eyes twinkled in amusement. "Well, you know, it just so happens that that is my destination." He lifted his hat and teasingly bowed. "Would you care for a ride, milady?"

I smiled and mock curtsied in return. "Why thank you, good wizard." We both laughed. "It has been far too long since I saw you last, Gandalf! How have you been?"

He gave me a hand up. I embraced my old friend tightly.

"I have been very well Erfëa." He hugged me back, but abruptly pulled away and looked at me in suspicion. "Should I be worried about the fact that you are here?"

I laughed. "Do not worry, my friend, my being here is not the herald of evil to come, *this time.*"

He joined my laughter then got the horse going again with a flick of the reins.

"I am here purely to rest. They," I cast my eyes skyward, "have given me some time off, for I have been on-call constantly the last five months and none of my assignments were at all easy." I turned to him. "Do you know how long just a *month* can be dragged out?" I shook my head.

Gandalf chuckled. "Indeed. Well sixty years have passed here since your first visit, yet you look as though you have aged, at most, but a few years."

I shrugged. "That is just how things go for me. Whenever I am in a reality other than the one where I was born, the only things that grow are my hair and nails. In the reality I come from I will be nineteen soon in the eyes of everyone there; it has only been two years since my first visit here." I looked away, off into the distance. "Yet for me it has been well over a millennia." I laughed bitterly. "I don't even know how many years I have seen anymore."

Gandalf smiled sadly at me.

I shook myself. "Enough of my whining, how have things been here? You say that it has been about sixty years since my first visit making it two since my last one." I looked at him pointedly. "Actually, speaking of visits, I have not seen *you* during my last few visits." I eyed him teasingly. "Have you been avoiding me Gandalf the Grey?"

He looked at me innocently. "Now what would ever make you think that?"

I laughed and shook my head.

We lapsed into a companionable silence, though Gandalf soon began to sing once again. After a bit I joined in.

Minutes later I heard the sound of feet running coming from the right side of the road; a voice. "You're late!"

I concealed a smile.

"Whoa." Gandalf winked at me before looking up at the young Hobbit on the bank. "A Wizard and a Traveler are never late, Frodo Baggins."

I looked up as well.

"Nor are they ever early," he continued, "they arrive precisely when they mean to."

We all struggled to keep straight faces but failed miserably; we all burst out laughing.

Frodo jumped from the bank onto the wagon, more or less tackling Gandalf with a hug.

"It's wonderful to see you Gandalf!" He let go of Gandalf and wrapped his arms around my neck. "And you, Erfëa!"

I laughed. "It is good to see you as well, Frodo!"

Gandalf looked Frodo in the eye, his own eyes twinkling with amusement. "You didn't think we would miss your Uncle Bilbo's birthday did you?"

We all chuckled. I then scooted over to give Frodo room to sit between Gandalf and me. Gandalf flicked the reins and we were on your way again.

"So how is the old rascal? I heard that it is going to be a party of special significance."

"Well you know Bilbo." He looked at both Gandalf and I. "He has the whole place in an up-roar."

Gandalf chuckled. "That should please him."

I grinned, knowing that that was quite true.

"Half the Shire has been invited. And the rest are showing up anyway."

Gandalf and I laughed.

"Sounds about right." I tilted my face toward the sun, reveling in its warmth.

Frodo suddenly looked unsure. "To tell the truth Bilbo's been a bit odd lately." I raised an eyebrow at this. He looked at me, smiling wryly. "I mean more than usual." He looked down at his lap. I glanced over Frodo's head at Gandalf, who looked up a moment later. I bit my lips together, nervously and worriedly; then looked back at Frodo. "He has taken to locking himself in his study. He spends hours and hours pouring over old maps when he thinks I'm not looking. He's up to something." Gandalf and I locked eyes again, but I quickly looked off at the scenery to the right of the wagon and Gandalf returned his attention to the road, when Frodo looked up at us and noticed our silent exchange.

"Alright then, keep your secrets!" We both looked back at him. "But I know that the two of you have something to do with it!" He looked between the Gandalf and me.

"Good gracious me!" Gandalf said innocently while I managed to look at him blankly.

Frodo then sat back. "Before the two of you came along we Bagginses were very well thought of!" He looked at Gandalf and me teasingly.

"Indeed?" Gandalf acted as if this was news to him.

"Never had any adventures or did anything unexpected."

Gandalf settled back and removed his pipe from his mouth. "If you are referring to the incident - "

I snorted with laughter at that term. "Incident doesn't even *begin* to cover what *that* was!"

Gandalf ignored my comment and continued. " - the incident with the dragon I was barely involved." He began to replace his pipe in his mouth. "All I did was give your uncle a little nudge out the door."

"While I, who had never been here before was intricately involved." I looked at Gandalf pointedly, who refused to look back.

Frodo chuckled. "Whatever you did, you both have been officially labeled 'disturbers of the peace'!"

"Oh really?" Gandalf looked at him curiously then looked at two stern looking Hobbits working in their yard who had stopped and were glaring at us.

I looked back at them, crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue at them; then quickly turned back around, trying not to laugh. "I cannot believe I did something *that* childish."

"I can," Gandalf muttered just loud enough for me to hear.

I reached over and hit his shoulder. He laughed.

We heard Hobbit children behind us begging for fireworks.

Frodo and I glanced at the stoic faced Gandalf, knowingly.

We heard the distinctive sound of fireworks going off behind us and the cheering of the children and we all laughed.

"Old softy," I muttered to him fondly.

We were almost to Bag End when Frodo stood up and turned to us. "I'm really you're both back."

"So are we, my boy." Gandalf and I waved to him as he hopped off the wagon and ran off. "So are we." He muttered the last part more to himself.

We finally pulled up in front of the gate of Bag End.

I smiled at the sight of the earthen home. It was a place of comfort and peace for me, for so little changed here and peace was abundant.

Gandalf knocked on the round, green door with his staff.

"NO THANK YOU!" a familiar voice from within cried. "We don't want anymore well wishers or distant relations!"

Gandalf chuckled and glanced at me; I grinned in response. Then he turned back to the door. "And what about very old friends?"

We heard the locks being undone and the door swung open. Bilbo Baggins appeared in the doorway looking out hopefully. "Gandalf? Erfëa?"

I smiled reassuringly.

"Bilbo Baggins!" Gandalf smiled as well.

"Gandalf! Erfëa!" He ran over and wrapped Gandalf first in a hug.

"111 years old! Who would believe it?" They pulled apart. Gandalf studied him closely. "You haven't aged a day."

Bilbo shrugged; then turned to me. "You come by far too little!" he chided me, like an uncle, as we hugged. "We were worried that you wouldn't make it!"

"I'm sorry, Bilbo. I have had a lot of assignments lately, plus I am going to be leaving secondary school very soon and that is a very important event where I come from. So my family has kept me *very* busy, but enough of that. Happy birthday!"

Bilbo chuckled; then waved us inside. "Come on! Come in!"

Once inside my head just about brushed the ceiling of the entry hall. Gandalf, who was *very* tall, on the other hand, (my head reached his shoulder) was nearly doubled over. Bilbo took Gandalf's hat, cloak and staff. He let me take care of my own things knowing, from experience, that I hid weapons in a lot of strange places that would baffle most "normal people" and if you didn't know where they were you could get hurt by accident.

"Tea? Or maybe something a bit stronger? I have a few bottles of the Old Winyard left, 1296, very good year! Almost as old as I am!" He chuckled as he hung up Gandalf's cloak and hat. "What say we open one?"

"Just tea, thank you." Gandalf began to back up toward the doorway of the sitting room.

"Same!" I called as I hung my cloak, bag, quiver and bow.

I bit my lip as Gandalf backed into the chandelier. He stilled it with his hands then turned around...and "BAM!" hit his head on the doorway. I clapped my hand over my mouth, but my whole body shook with laughter. He scowled slightly at me. I pulled my hand away from my mouth and chuckled as I walked past him into the sitting room. I went over to the fireplace, thumbs looped through my belt, an old habit of mine, and studied the mementos sitting on the mantle. Many of them I recognized and smiled at the memories they brought up. I looked over at Gandalf. He was standing by a table that was overflowing with maps. He held a frame in his hands. I sauntered over to his side and looked over his shoulder. I smiled sadly, it was the map from our quest to Lonely Mountain. My eyes traveled the road we had gone, memories flashing of each place as I went. When I had gone the whole journey and the journey back I looked up at Gandalf, I smiled sadly; he smiled back.

I looked back at the map. "I feel so *old* when I look back on that time."

Gandalf smiled; he placed his arm on my shoulders. "You have changed immeasurably since then; it is only natural to feel that way." He handed me the map, gave my shoulder a squeeze and left me to my thoughts.

I continued to study the map until Bilbo came to the door. "I can make you some eggs if you like."

I looked up and smiled warmly. "No thank you, Bilbo."

He nodded and opened his mouth as he glanced around the room then shut it and began to look around, confused. "Oh! Gandalf?"

I saw Gandalf lean into the doorway; I kept a straight face. "Just tea, thank you."

Bilbo jumped and turned around. "Oh right!"

I glued my eyes to the map, trying not to laugh. I then set it down and entered the kitchen.

"Would you like some cheese Erfëa?" Bilbo offered me the platter.

"Yes, thank you." I took two slices.

Bilbo had just put a slice in his mouth when there was a pounding on the door and a female voice shrieking, "Bilbo Baggins I know you're in there!"

Bilbo almost choked on his cheese and backed up to the doorway. "I'm not at home!" He looked at almost fearfully. He moved closer to the window so that he could see out, but could not be seen. "It's the Sackville- Bagginses!"

I grimaced, several years back I had had the misfortune of meeting Mrs. Sackville-Baggins and I severely detested that woman immediately; her husband was no better. The meeting had involved a large box of eggs, a runaway pig, Mrs. Sackville-Baggins, myself and the butcher.

"They are after the house," he explained to Gandalf. "They have never forgiven me for living this long!" He scurried back into the kitchen. "I need to get away from these confounded relatives, hanging on the bell all day; never giving me a moment's peace! I want to see mountains again! Mountains!" he told us passionately; then he seemed to become slightly tired. "And then find some place quiet where I can settle down and finish my book." He seemed to remember his original intention for being in the kitchen. "Oh tea!" He took the water from the fire place.

"So you intend to go through with it?" Gandalf watched him.

"Yes, everything is arranged. Thank you." He added the last part as Gandalf lifted the lid of the teapot for him.

Gandalf glanced up at him. "Frodo suspects something."

"Of course he does!" Bilbo said indignantly. "He's a Baggins! Not some blockheaded Bracegirttle from Hardbottle!"

My lips twitched, I had always found it amusing how Hobbit families always thought theirs above the others and made comments like that about the others, though they were all inter-related just about.

"You will tell him won't you?"

"Yes, yes!" Bilbo continued preparing the tea.

Gandalf watched him move over to the window. "He's very fond of you, you know."

Bilbo's movements stilled. Gandalf had hit a nerve. "I know." Bilbo turned toward the window. "He would probably come with me if I asked him." Bilbo sighed and rested a hand on the windowsill. "But in his heart I think Frodo is still in love with the Shire," Bilbo's voice became reminiscent; I could tell that part of him was hurting at leaving the Shire more than he was letting on, "the fields, the trees, the little rivers." He leaned heavily on the sill. "I'm old, Gandalf; Erfëa." He turned toward us. "I know I don't look it, but I feel it in my heart." My eye was drawn, like Gandalf's, to his hand that was fiddling with something in his pocket. My heart twisted, knowing what it was. "I feel...thin." He lowered himself into a chair with great difficulty; my heart was wrenched even worse so at seeing someone I loved like and uncle in so much pain. "Like butter spread over too much bread." He looked off at some unknown point in the room. "I need a holiday." His voice was very final. "A very long holiday and I do not think I shall be coming back...in fact, I mean not to!"

~*~

The birthday party was everything that people expected it to be, though there was one part that they definitely didn't know was coming but would probably be the talk of the Shire for many more years to come. I laughed, talked, danced, ate and assisted Gandalf with the fireworks. Many of the Hobbits drank heavily, I nursed only one drink through the whole evening, I had worked with college students one summer and I had heard a lot of stories about how hammered they had been at parties, and, quite often a good few of them would come to work hung over, after that I was not at all in a hurry to experience getting drunk, as such I usually limited myself to one drink, besides that I was not a big drinker. I talked quite a bit to Frodo, teasing him when he set Sam up with Rosie, asking him when he was going to start worrying about his own love life. He had teased me right back by saying when I started to do so.

I was chatting with Gandalf when the infamous "Dragon firework" was setoff. Gandalf and I looked at each other then headed toward the tent that had been blown off the ground. Gandalf went up behind them as we heard Merry say, "That was good!"

"Yeah!" Pippen agreed.

"Let's get another one!"

Gandalf took each of them by the ear and I stepped in front of them, arms crossed, eyebrow raised and an unamused look on my face, though I was laughing on the inside.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took." Gandalf looked up at me. "I might have known.

Gandalf decided to put them to work cleaning the dishes, thus killing two birds with one stone. We watched them carefully, knowing that leaving them alone was just asking for trouble, hell, not leaving them alone was asking for trouble.

Everyone, strangely enough, listened intently to Bilbo's speech, but then again they were well fed, many had had several drinks and almost all were in good spirits so I guess it wasn't so strange. I just sat quietly listening to Bilbo's words of goodbye. I was one of the only ones not shocked when he disappeared.

Gandalf glanced at me; I nodded to him to go ahead and go see Bilbo. He raised his eyebrows, asking if I wished to come along, I shook my head. "I'll say goodbye to him at the door." I sat back and watched everything going on around me.

~*~

I had finally decided I had stayed long enough to miss the conversation between Bilbo and Gandalf, I had never liked it, it had always made me sad and angry. I reached the door just as Bilbo was walking out.

Bilbo smiled at me. "Have you come to say goodbye, Erfëa?"

I smiled, kneeling down. "Yes, and to give you a birthday present." I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out a small object, it was a small, flat piece of wood with different symbols carved into it. I pressed it into his hand. "One of my many teachers over the years and worlds I have traveled gave this to me, it says, 'Keep Faith.'"

Bilbo looked down at the gift. "Thank you, Erfëa."

I smiled. "Happy birthday, Bilbo."

"Goodbye, my dear." He touched my cheek, affectionately. "Take care of yourself."

I smiled. "Always. Namarié, Bilbo Baggins." (Farewell.)

Bilbo set off down the road with the dwarves who had been waiting for him.

I got up, went over and stood next to Gandalf, watching our dear friend disappear into the dark.

~*~

I sat in a chair in front of the fireplace next to Gandalf. He was broodingly staring into the fire while smoking his pipe. I was doing exactly the same thing save the pipe; instead I was absentmindedly playing with the rolling ring on the index finger of my right hand. Our minds were thinking along similar lines, though his was to the past and mine was to the future. I knew what was coming and I worried for Frodo, though I knew that he would succeed I just could not help it, he was as dear as a little brother to me.

I heard Gandalf mutter things under his breath every once in a while. One thing caught my attention. "Riddles in the dark."

That one phrase echoed through my mind as I sat there dredging up other thoughts. "Who knows what is said in the dark?" "The dark guards its secrets closely." "The dark is treacherous." "They do not see what lies ahead when sun is failed and moon is dead."

I vaguely heard the door open and Frodo come in calling, "Bilbo?" I didn't really hear much else, so intent was my mind.

Finally I was drawn out of my thoughts when Frodo was right behind Gandalf and I. I looked up and quickly put a smile on my face. Then everything, which seemed to have been moving in slow motion, seemed to speed up to twice as fast as before. Gandalf was rushing around getting his things, Frodo and I following him, until I heard the call in my mind.

I glanced up at the ceiling then looked back at them. "I must go as well, They are calling me." I quickly gathered my things and opened a portal. I turned around just before I stepped inside. "I will try to come back soon. Namarié." As I stepped through the portal the last thing I heard was their farewells.

~*~

Hope fully this will *not* be a Mary-Sue. It is not supposed to be. PLEASE let me know what you think!

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