Sad Wings of Destiny

Before Miriel knew it, she had reached The Last Bridge. Since she hadn�t heard the heavy footfalls of trolls following behind, she paused for a moment, drinking in the view of the River Mitheithel. Beneath the silver light of the moon, the waterway looked even more beautiful than the last time she had looked upon it. Already thin wisps of mist hovered over sections of the stream, giving it a dream-like feel. O� how she wished she could stay in this area a few more days. It offered everything she needed - consistent water supply, small game, and trees for concealment.

She sighed.

Alas, the area also had trolls, big, hulking trolls.

She turned toward the east, listening intently for any sounds. It was quiet. Maybe too quiet. She then shifted her gaze to the west, finding that area less appealing, at least, from what she could see. No great forests stood along the roadway, only hills, rocks and thickets. The Slayer glanced back at the river below, delighting in how the waters shimmered in the moonlight.

She resumed her trek, knowing she wouldn�t be able to fall asleep for a long while. While her adrenaline wasn�t pumping as it had been, she was however, wide-awake. As she strolled across the bridge, her thoughts turned to her battle with the trolls. Since their corpses lay a few miles behind, she could actually relish in the thought of having fought them, and won.

Though dismayed that that one troll had broken her sword, she was relieved that it hadn�t been Bregolas� blade. She wanted to preserve what few tokens of his she had with her. Although, now, she�d have to use his sword in combat should the need arise.

The need will definitely arise, she thought to herself. But, I�ll be ready; I�ll be ready for whatever comes my way.

The Slayer pushed all thoughts of the future out of her mind, preferring to live one day at a time. And at this moment, she wanted to savor her victory at having defeated two trolls all by herself. That alone made her confidence soar. She had successfully fought Uruks, Orcs, and now trolls on her journey. A part of her wondered what new adversary awaited her. She was the Slayer, and there were bound to be other battles that lay ahead.

After a few hours, Miriel grew tired. She didn�t like her surroundings much at all. There were no decent places that offered shelter. With really no other option available to her, she ended up camping at the bottom of a ravine. She tucked her things (and herself) beneath a ridge of rock that protruded from the eastern wall, the only part of the terrain that offered any type of concealment. Resting her head on her most cushiony bag, she swiftly fell asleep�



When Buffy and Miriel reunited in the dreamscape, the tension that had built up between the two vanished. Apparently, nothing brings two Slayers together like a successful night of slaying! Buffy watched in amusement as her prot�g� replayed the battle with the trolls in a very animated fashion. The elder Slayer felt a sense of relief to see a glimmer of the old Miriel. For nearly a week now, she had been despondent, avoiding any deep conversations with Buffy. Of course, it didn�t help that they had had their own little skirmish. As far as Buffy was concerned, that incident was behind them.

�And did you hear what they called each other?� Miriel added at the end of her tale as she shoved Bregolas� sword back into its scabbard. �What kind of names are Pete and Fred?� she asked with a snicker.

Buffy frowned. �What�s wrong with Pete and Fred? They sound like perfectly normal names to me.�

Miriel chuckled. �Oh, yes. Coming from one named Buffy, how could I expect otherwise?�

�Hey! What�s wrong with Buffy?� queried the elder Slayer, pouting.

Once again, Miriel chortled. �It sounds rather queer is all. I cannot say that I have ever heard the name before.�

�My name�s not� not� queer!� protested Buffy defensively.

�It is a common name in your lands then?� queried the younger Slayer, raising her brow in question.

Half-pouting, half-frowning, Buffy said, �Shut up!� She then grumbled under her breath, �What kinda name is Miriel, any way?�

�It�s a queenly name,� answered Miriel proudly. �If you had heeded our earlier conversations, you would know that.�

�Yeah, whatever,� mumbled Buffy, wanting to change the topic of conversation before it became heated. She didn�t like it when people criticized her name.

The elder Slayer quickly steered their conversation to some mundane topic in an attempt to lessen her rising blood pressure�



When Miriel awoke, the sky was already a pale blue. The morning promised another scorcher of a day. After tending to her morning ritual, she climbed the slope and resumed her journey, following the Great East Road to the west.

Every now and again, she passed patches of woods along either side of the roadway. Her hand instinctively went to her hilt when she neared them, just in case anyone tried to jump her. In the distance, she saw a great stretch of hills standing prominently north of the road. At this point, that would be her target destination.

By mid-afternoon, she came upon a pass in the hills, to her left. For whatever reason, she felt compelled to leave the road and follow the path. On either side, the rocky hills stretched upward, reaching heights of about seventy-five feet. However, only a few yards beyond the path, the hills melted away, revealing a rather large clearing with what looked to be a small lake in its center. Circled around the body of water were scattered willow and oak trees.

Miriel�s heart nearly beat out of chest with excitement. She rubbed her eyes, fearing that the heat was causing her to see things. To her delight, it was real. The lake was real. The trees were real. She swiftly went down the earthen slope toward the water�s edge, as her eyes swiftly scanned the area. Enormous hills formed a ring enclosure about the place, offering concealment from the surrounding areas. The young Slayer thought that this would be the ideal spot to rest for a day or two.

By the lake�s edge stood a massive willow. Its branches stretched out, partly over the land and partly over the water. Miriel inspected the tree closely, thinking that it might be the ideal place for her to sleep. It would probably work, but she thought it wasn�t a good idea to sleep so close to the trail. She wondered if people, or worse, Orcs and monsters knew of this place�s existence, or if she had happened to have made some magnificent discovery.

As she walked along the water�s edge, she could plainly see animal prints amidst the pebbly shore, an obvious sign that she wasn�t the first to discover this place. Regardless, it had a rather wholesome feel to it, and Miriel had already convinced herself to call this place home, at least for a little while.

She set her bags down beneath an oak on the western side of the lake where she would rest for a while. With water no longer an issue (for the time being); she drank until her thirst was quenched. Once rested, Miriel walked the perimeter of the enclosure, looking for any other escape paths from the ring of hills. From the looks of it, there was only one way in, and one way out.

Before doing anything else, Miriel wanted to set up her trap. If any were to follow the path, they would probably do as she had, follow the trail that led to the lake. In doing so, one would have to pass beneath the boughs of the old willow.

With her trap now set, the Slayer felt a bit more at ease. The lake looked inviting, and with her clothes drenched in sweat, she longed to take a quick dip. She waited a while, reluctant to strip off her clothing in broad daylight without any to keep watch. After thirty minutes or so, she decided that it was well worth the risk. If she kept at least one weapon close to the shore, she could defend herself should anyone pop into the clearing.

As she waded into the cold water, she could see schools of minnows swimming near the shoreline. Miriel knew that if there were minnows, there had to be larger fish as well. When she had finished her swim, she�d try her hand at fishing again. After having successfully killed a coney, she hoped that her luck had changed, and that she would find the same success with fishing.

Alas, that was not to be, as she later found out. Fishing proved to be just as frustrating as always. But, Miriel didn�t fret. Instead, she dined on stewed cabbage and rutabagas for her supper. While not as delicious as she would�ve liked, the fare was filling nonetheless.



Miriel remained by the lake over the next couple of days. She liked the area so much, she decided to call it home. Though she hadn�t caught any fish as of yet, she figured it was only a matter of time before wild game wandered into the enclosure. Indeed that did happen, on the second night after her arrival. Unfortunately, it was a couple of deer, which she considered too large to kill. The Slayer understood how precious life was, and didn�t want to kill something unless she could eat it all. The deer meat would rot before she could do that, and that didn�t seem right to her. She still had some vegetables left, and ate small portions at mealtime, trying to make them last as long as she could.

Now it so happened that things changed drastically on the fifth day after her arrival. With her food supplies nearly gone, Miriel had done her best to conserve her energy. She still hadn�t caught any fish, and after the two deer, no other game had happened into the clearing. It was dusk, the evening still warm. The Slayer lounged against the bole of the oak in which she normally slept, lazily chewing on a strand of wild grass. She had closed her eyes for a few minutes, enjoying the peacefulness of yet another day�s ending when she heard a sudden yelp echoing within the walls of the hills, followed by �Ahh!�

Miriel�s eyes darted open, as she let out a startled gasp. Not a second later, she was on her feet, jerking the crossbow from the ground. She could see the branches of the willow trembling, the leaves rustling. As she ran toward the tree, she heard disheartened cries coming from within the greenery.

When she neared the tree, she could see someone caught in her trap, a someone with long, bushy brown hair, dangling upside down.

��elp me! �elp me,� the figure pleaded in a gruff voice.

Her prey spun and swung, as he squirmed within the confines of the rope.

Seeing the pathway deserted, the Slayer turned her attention to the figure swinging from the tree branch.

�What do we have here?� she said, picking up the axe that lay on the ground beneath the hairy creature.

�Let me down! Let me down!� he demanded.

Miriel used the axe to stop the man from spinning. He gulped loudly when she did so. She then used his weapon to push back his bushy hair, revealing his face.

�A dwarf,� she said once she had gotten a closer look at her captive. Now there were a couple of things going through the Slayer�s mind at that moment. There was that feeling of exhilaration that her trap had worked, that she had actually caught a living, breathing creature. But more importantly, she felt powerful. She could see both fear and doubt in the dwarf�s eyes, and she liked that.

�You let me down right now, or I�ll - �

� -You�ll what?� interjected Miriel, waving the dwarf�s weapon threateningly. �You wander into my domain and make demands of me?� she said incredulously.

�Er, um, I didn�t know,� answered the dwarf, staring, through his hair, at the sharp blade of his axe. �Er, perhaps we can work something out here.�

Just then, six more dwarves came running into the clearing, each brandishing his own weapon.

�Stop there, or I�ll gut him!� shouted the Slayer, pulling the dwarf toward her body. She trained her crossbow on the newcomers while holding the blade of the axe to her captive�s throat.

�My son! My son!� exclaimed the grey-haired dwarf, pulling on his beard with his free hand.

Miriel had no time to really assess the situation. Were these good dwarves or bad ones? She had no way of knowing since this was the first time she had ever encountered any from that race. Under different circumstances, she probably would�ve been excited and inquisitive. But not any more. They were a threat - interlopers of her domain. Possible villains out to make mischief, or worse.

�Drop your weapons or I shall cut his throat!� she threatened.

Now, Miriel knew she was the Slayer, and had proved herself in battle, but these dwarves had never before come across a young girl like her. They were hesitant to heed her warnings, thinking that they could easily disarm her.

Their eyes swept over the area to determine whether or not she had any companions. They could see none.

�Now, listen, lass,� began the old dwarf, taking a step forward.

Miriel pressed the blade into the flesh of her captive a bit, which caused him to yelp, and the old dwarf to stop his advance.

�Do you know how much blood sprays from one�s throat when it is sliced open?� she said in her most menacing voice. �Have you ever felt the warm spray of blood against your skin, or tasted the saltiness on your tongue?� She eyed her captive. �With him hanging like this, I imagine, he�d be drained within fifteen minutes.�

�Alright, lass. Alright,� said the grey-haired dwarf, slowly placing his axe on the ground. Grumbling, his companions followed suit. �Now, we can work this out, lass. Just don�t hurt my son.�

Miriel then carefully pulled the pack off her captive�s back, her eyes never leaving the six dwarves. She then tossed the bag to the old man�s feet. �Empty it on the ground!�

�She�s robbing me!� exclaimed the upside down dwarf. �I�m being robbed by a mortal girl!�

�Shut it, you,� she said, squeezing the dwarf.

He grumbled something inaudible even to her ears.

�I said empty it! NOW!� she barked to the old dwarf.

�Alright, alright. Just don�t hurt my son.�

The old dwarf undid the clasps of the bag before emptying the contents on the ground. Other than a spare set of garments, everything was in smaller cloth bags.

�Empty them!� she ordered again.

The old dwarf loosened the string on the first bag, and poured out a variety of gemstones onto the dwarf�s garments. Even in the fading light, the jewels shone with a brilliance in a myriad of colors. A second bag contained gold coins and the third contained silver coins.

�That�s all. That�s all he has,� said the old dwarf.

�What�s in those?� she ordered, pointing her weapon at the remaining bags.

�Food. It�s only food.�

Miriel�s ears perked up upon hearing that. �What kind of food?�

All the dwarves seemed puzzled by that question . They assumed that a robber would be most interested in their treasures, not their foodstuffs. Nevertheless, they would not surrender their goods without a fight. Surely, six hardy dwarves of Erebor could take out a lone mortal girl.

�Salted pork and a couple of loaves of stale bread.�

�Give me that for the release of the dwarf.�

All the dwarves were taken aback by Miriel�s ransom demand. They were quite amazed that she showed no interest in their valuables, only their food.

�Alright, lass. Alright,� answered the old dwarf, picking up a couple of the cloth bags. �Now, you let my son go, and I�ll give you these,� he suggested, holding the bags out toward the Slayer.

�And you expect me to trust you, kinsman of M�m?� she shot back derisively.

�M�m? Who�s M�m?� queried one of the dwarves, looking at his companions with a baffled expression on his face.

�Just give it to her. My leg�s gone numb!� shouted the hanging dwarf.

The old dwarf slowly approached Miriel, holding the bags in his outstretched hands. �Take it easy now, lass. We�re not going to hurt you.�

�Stop right there!� she ordered, gripping the dangling dwarf tighter. �Toss the bags.�

The old dwarf did as ordered. The bags landed by the Slayer�s feet.

�Back up now,� she said, pointing her weapon at the grey-haired dwarf.

The old dwarf complied. �Alright, now. I kept my end of the bargain. Free my son.�

�Hands on your head,� she demanded. �All of you!� she added, noticing that only the old dwarf had obeyed her command.

When all the dwarves had their hands on their heads, Miriel let go of the trapped dwarf. He began to gently swing again. She shifted the axe into the crook of her left arm so that she could retrieve the bags. As she squatted down to pick up the food, one of the dwarves suddenly charged her.

Shouts and cries reverberated against the hillsides.

Miriel dropped the food bags as she quickly stood, grabbed hold of the dangling dwarf, and kicked out her right leg, hitting the charging dwarf square in the chest. The dwarf went flying backwards a good fifteen feet before landing hard on the ground. His comrades rushed to his side, except for the old man who remained perfectly still with his hands still on his head. He shouted at the others, as the axe blade returned to the captive dwarf�s throat.

�You little bastards!� she spat, angry at being deceived. �You proved that you truly are kinsmen of M�m, the Petty Dwarf. Liars. Deceivers, the lot of you.� She gripped her captive tighter. �I should cut his throat for your foolhardiness!�

The old dwarf scolded his companions. He and the others were alarmed by the young girl�s demonstration of strength. They had never seen one so young deliver such a powerful kick. His concern over his son reached new heights.

�Please, lass,� he pleaded, keeping his hands on his head. �No one will attack you. I promise.�

�You lie!� she barked.

�Father, please!� cried out the trapped dwarf.

Once again, the old dwarf scolded his companions. �Please, miss. I�ve done as you�ve ordered. My kinsmen here,� he pointed at his companions, �they will not attack you again. You have my word on that.�

The old dwarf sounded sincere, but Miriel wasn�t about to let herself be deceived yet again. She thought for a minute, then answered with, �If that is so, then I want you all to lay face down on the ground, with your hands on your heads. If anyone moves, then I will gut your son - make no mistake about that!�

The warning in her tone was understood by all. The old dwarf ordered his companions to do as she said. They all laid face down on the ground with their hands on the back of their heads.

Satisfied with their positions, Miriel swiftly picked up the food bags and slowly backed away from the dangling dwarf. Her eyes remained glued to the six men on the ground. She went to the other end of the rope, untied the knot, and eased the suspended dwarf to the ground. Her captive hastily got to his feet and made a beeline for his companions. Either the dwarf had overlooked the fact that his leg was still trapped in the noose or he was completely dense, but as he ran, Miriel pulled on the other end of the rope, tripping the man, and causing him to fall face first to the ground.

Before the fallen dwarf could roll over, Miriel was standing over him. In her hand, she wielded his own weapon, vowing to rip him a new one if he dare cut the cords. The dwarf kept his eyes fixed on the girl, as he loosened the noose around his ankle. Once freed, he tossed the rope to Miriel and began to scoot back away from her. The Slayer then flung the dwarf his axe. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, as the weapon flew through the air, landing in a patch of earth between his legs, just below his crotch.

�Off with you now,� she demanded, waving them on.

The dwarves got back to their feet. A couple of them hurriedly grabbed the valuables of Miriel�s former captive and placed them back into the sacks. The old dwarf looked over his son, speaking to him in a tongue foreign to the girl. Whatever he had said caused all the dwarves to look at Miriel with pity.

As Miriel backed away, the old dwarf spoke up. �Our business here is not finished,� he said in his kindest voice.

�What business?� asked Miriel warily, narrowing her eyes.

Emboldened, the old dwarf stepped closer. The Slayer raised her crossbow - just in case. �My kin have been coming here for centuries. They had even carved runes on the outside wall, informing travelers that there is water here,� he continued, motioning toward the pathway. �We have come a long way and have need for water and a place to rest.� The old dwarf looked up at the darkening sky. Already, the first stars had faintly appeared above. �It will be night soon, and we are weary.�

Miriel remained apprehensive, unsure of what to do.

The old dwarf pulled off his pack and reached inside. �I�ve got apples, apples I�ll give to you, if we may stay.� He pulled out two pieces of fruit. �What do you say, miss?�

The girl�s eyes darted from dwarf to dwarf. She had no idea whether they were friend or foe though a part of her was slightly stunned that they were showing her kindness after she had trapped one of their kinsmen and threatened to gut him.

However, she relented. �Alright, but you and your people stay on this side of the lake, and I shall stay on the other.�

�Very well,� he said with a nod, approaching Miriel and handing her the apples.

She then backed away, keeping her eyes fixed on the dwarves. They began speaking in their own tongue, as they relieved themselves of their burdens and headed to the water�s edge.

Once the girl had determined that she was far enough away, she turned, and hurried back to her tree on the western shore. She sat down with her back against the bole of the tree, watching the dwarves keenly. She immediately tore into the salted pork, eager to sate that ever-longing need for meat that never seemed to go away.

The dwarves began to speak in the Common Tongue, and Miriel was able to hear snippets of their conversation, even from afar. She had decided to forgo sleep for the night, wanting to keep an eye on the travelers. She had serious trust issues, and even now, a part of her told her not to trust these dwarves. She figured that as long as she remained awake, the dwarves wouldn�t be able to ambush her.

Gradually, darkness engulfed the area, and the only light came from the campfire that the strangers had built. Miriel remained vigilant, keeping a constant eye on the dwarves. There was a time or two when she found herself rolling her eyes in disgust, as the dwarves appeared to be having some sort of belching contest. While she was unfamiliar with the customs of that race, she did find their behavior rather crude.



For some reason, the old dwarf could not push the girl out of his mind. In all his days, he had never encountered one so young, roaming the wilds of Middle-earth alone. Something wasn�t quite right, and he shared his thoughts with his son.

�Do you not wonder why she�s alone, out here, companionless?� he asked.

�It�s no business of mine,� answered the younger dwarf, as he chewed on the rations given to him by the others.

The old dwarf looked toward the area where he knew the girl was. Her form remained hidden in the shadows of night. �There is something peculiar about that girl, something� � He paused. �I cannot quite put my finger on it. There is some sad tale behind her loneliness, I deem. My heart goes out to her.�

The young dwarf stopped chewing. He shifted his dark eyes to his father, unmoved by his comments. �Mine does not!� he answered, as he resumed chewing again. �And yours shouldn�t either. Have you forgotten that that wild thing had me hanging from a tree - and had put my own axe to my throat. My own axe!� he said, emphasizing his last words.

The old dwarf looked thoughtfully at his son. �Did you not see how forcefully she kicked Fr�r? No mere mortal girl wields such strength!�

�Then that suggests that she�s in league with the enemy. The Dark Lord probably used his magics to imbue her with great strength,� he said, nodding his head, pleased with his deduction. �I say she�s trouble.�

�You should not assume the worst in people.�

�One must assume the worst, in this day and age. The darkness is spreading - you�ve said so yourself,� answered his son.

�Aye,� answered the old man with a sigh. He shifted his gaze back toward the spot where he knew Miriel sat. �I cannot help but feel pity for that girl. She is frightened, though you may not see it.�

�I was too busy dangling upside down to notice,� remarked the younger dwarf sardonically.



As the night wore on, Miriel became sleepy. The thought of dozing while others camped so closely was not the most comforting of thoughts. She had decided that the best way to keep awake was to resume her march under the cover of darkness. She wasn�t thrilled with the idea of leaving her little sanctuary, but if the dwarves were right, and the area was marked as a haven for weary travelers, then it was best for her to go on her way. Surely, it would only be a matter of time before others showed up, and the likelihood that the next group of strangers were of the not friendly variety was all too probable.

The Slayer climbed back up the tree and began tossing her bags to the ground. In the still of the night, the lone dwarf on watch duty heard the sound of her luggage hitting the ground. Though dark, he locked his eyes in the direction of the noise, wondering what the girl was up to. She topped off her water skins before making her way toward the only pathway out of the area, not knowing when she�d come across water again.

Now, it so happened that the dwarf on sentry duty was the same one that had been caught in the Slayer�s trap. With his father sound asleep with the others, and his belief that the girl was coming in their direction, he thought it was high time he gave her a piece of his mind. He slipped away from the campsite, axe in hand, and as quietly as he could, he went over to the hill beside the path, where he anxiously waited for the girl to approach.

Seemingly, from out of nowhere, she appeared before him, causing the dwarf to jump with a start.

�How did you do that?� he yelped, rattled that he hadn�t heard her approach. �How did you sneak up on me like that?�

Miriel offered the dwarf a smile. �I�m sorry. I did not mean to frighten you,� she replied softly, not wanting to wake the others.

The dwarf was peeved that the young girl had called his courage into question. He puffed his chest out proudly. �I was not frightened,� he said firmly. �You caught me by surprise is all.�

Cocking her head to the side, the Slayer scrutinized the dwarf standing before her. He stood at least a foot shorter than she. �You�re the dwarf I caught in my trap, no?�

He answered with a deep, throaty groan, which sounded more like a low growl.

�I apologize,� she said, taking his response as a yes. She glanced down the dark path between the hills. �There are� unsavory types lurking about,� she murmured. Miriel fell silent for a moment, staring into the darkness. Unpleasant memories came rushing to her mind. She shuddered, then turned her attention back to the dwarf. �One cannot be too careful nowadays. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish friend from foe.�

There was something in the girl�s voice that stirred pity within the dwarf. He now had a better understanding of his father�s earlier words. There was an air of sadness about the girl, some hidden torment that lay just below the surface. The dwarf could not perceive what it was, but came to believe that she was no minion of the Dark Lord.

�Aye, you speak truly,� he answered with a nod of his head. With his misgivings about her melting away, he hastily added, �There is no need to leave at this hour. You�re welcomed to stay here, by the fire, with me and my kin.�

�I thank you, master dwarf, but I think it�s time for me to be on my way.�

�It�s Gimli. My name is Gimli,� answered the dwarf, quickly warming up to the young girl.

�Well, it was nice to meet you, Gimli,� said Miriel, adjusting the straps of her bags that were already digging uncomfortably into her shoulders. She then reached into her pocket. She held out her hand, opening her fingers and revealing a gold chain on her palm. �I do not want to be seen as a thief. Take this in payment for the bread and meat.�

Gimli reached out, and closed her palm with his rough, calloused hand. Even in the dimness of the firelight, he could see the scars around her wrist. Seeing that caused his heart to ache even more. �No lass, you keep it,� he uttered, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

�I do not want to be thought of as a robber, a highwayman, some might say,� she answered. �I insist. Please, take it.�

Gimli was probably the first dwarf in history to turn down treasures in payment of goods. He felt that the girl had greater need of the gold chain than he. He thought for a moment, and then said, �Wait here. Don�t go anywhere just yet.�

He then headed back to his campsite, rummaging through one of the bags. Shortly thereafter, he returned carrying a few bundles in his arms. He felt the girl had need of food, more so than he and his companions. Why else would his ransom have been a couple of loaves and some salted pork?

�If you want me to take that fine chain of yours, then I must add this to the bargain. There�s some meat, bread and apples,� he said, offering her the bundles. �That way our exchange is fair.�

�I don�t know,� she responded, hesitant to take the dwarf�s food. It wasn�t that she thought it was poisoned or anything like that. But, after traveling as long as she had, she understood how precious food was, and how one had to ration it along the way. She feared that by taking the victuals, she would be depriving the dwarves of some much-needed sustenance.

Seeing her reluctance, Gimli added, �We�ve got plenty of food for the journey home, if that�s your concern.�

�Are you sure?� she asked.

�Take it, lass. Come now, the chain for the food. That�s a fair trade, don�t you think?�

�I think you�re getting the short end of the stick,� she replied with a chortle, exchanging the necklace for the bundles.

�Nay,� he said, holding the gold chain up before his eyes. �This is fine quality gold made by a skilled hand,� he observed. Gimli then clasped the chain around his neck.

Miriel eased her packs off her shoulders, sifting through her bags in search of one with enough room in which to store her food.

�I don�t mean to pry, but how is it that you�re out here by yourself, without an escort? I mean, you look so young, a child still. You should be safe at home, not out here. The world�s a dangerous place,� remarked Gimli, his voice riddled with concern and curiosity.

With the food now stowed away, Miriel heaved the straps of her bags over both shoulders and rose to her feet. Frowning, she answered, �I am no child.�

�I meant no offense, um, er,� the dwarf stammered in reply. He wanted to address her by her proper name but had no idea what it was. �Er, sorry, I didn�t catch your name.�

The Slayer locked eyes with Gimli and said the first name that popped into her head. �Morwen. My name is Morwen.� For whatever reason, Miriel felt the need to protect her true name, as well as her identity. When it came to her back story, she didn�t reveal much. �My companions were slain by Orcs,� she revealed, leaving it at that.

Gimli gasped, surprised that this young girl had survived a goblin attack. Dozens of questions came rushing to his mind, but Miriel wasn�t about to elaborate further.

�I must be on my way,� she hurriedly added. �I have a long way to travel, as do you, I deem.� She glanced toward the sleeping, snoring dwarves, particularly the old one. �Give your father my regards.� Miriel looked back at the dwarf. �I rather liked him very much.�

�But, where will you go?� Gimli blurted out, a little too anxious sounding to his ears.

Miriel shrugged. �Fate is leading me on my path. Farewell, Gimli,� she added with a nod, starting down the trail. �Oh.� She stopped, glancing over her shoulder. �Be careful once you cross the bridge. I�m afraid the trolls might be riled up.�

�Why is that?� asked Gimli.

�I expect it�s because I killed two of them. Use care, Gimli. Use care.� She then gave a curt nod of her head and continued on her way, leaving the baffled dwarf behind. With his jaw slightly agape, he stared at the girl as she disappeared into the darkness, unable to believe her claim.

�No. No, it cannot be,� he mumbled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. �No girl is capable of such a feat.� Yet, something inside gnawed at him, telling him that her claim was most definitely true.

Years later, Gimli would learn �Morwen�s� true identity, and from the Elves, no less�