Goodbye Lothlórien!

      Elliott woke up panting, eye wide and wild. Okay, weird dreams were normal for him, but a dream about the literal eye of Sauron? No. He needed to talk to someone about this. 

        He pushed himself up, making his way towards where Legolas was talking with a few other elves. He figured Legolas was the best choice, since he didn't have to wake him up to talk to him.

        Elliott walked over to the group, standing silently next to Legolas and wringing his hands. Now how to... ah, he'd just wait until there was a break in the conversation. Elliott sighed, running a hand over his hair (that's right- over, not through, because it was still braided. He hadn't taken it out in the entire month he'd been here) and inadvertently attracted attention to himself.

        "Oh, hello Elliott," Haldir said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Did you need something?' Elliott nodded; "Yeah, I-" he cut himself off. What was it that he was here for? He wracked his brain for the memory, but recieved nothing. He blew out a sigh. "Nothing. I can't remember. It probably didn't matter."

        The other elves just looked at eachther and shrugged, then went back to what they were talking about. Elliott sighed yet again and spun around in place, staring up at the sky. This made him dizzy after a while, so he wandered away to wait out the remainder of the night. 

        Eventually morning came though, and everyone gathered by a river. There was a really pretty lady there who he guessed was Galadriel, but he hadn't actually met her yet.

        Aragorn stopped him as he walked over to the boats and he looked up, eye wide. Aragorn gave him a rueful smile as he said; "Elliott... I'm not sure if you should continue with us. It is dangerous, and you've already lost an eye. I'm sorry."

        Elliott's face dropped and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Are... are you saying I can't come?"

       "I think that would be for the best, yes," Aragorn said softly. Now, Elliott was polite. Ish. So instead of cursing and running away, he gave a watery smile and left as if nothing was wrong, head down. He didn't listen to what Aragorn tired to say next, though. He wasn't that polite.

        Elliott curled up in a bush, watching as cloaks were fastened around the other members... around the members of the fellowship with green, silver-veined leaf-brooches. Some guy named Celeborn said; "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes," and Elliott mocked him grumpily, opening and closing his hand as if it was a mouth along to the elf's words.

        Elves were packing boats for the fellowship's journey, and Legolas is among them. He held up a thin wafer for Merry and Pippin, who were sitting in a boat, to see. "Lembas! Elvish Way-bread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." And with that random nugget of information, he walked off to shore. 

        Merry leant over and whispered to Pippin; "How many did you eat?"

        "Four," Pippin whispered back, then burped.

        Celey-guy was talking again. "Every league you travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin."

       And then Elliott tuned him out, sneaking around to the back of one of the boats as the fellowship members lined up to recieve gifts from Galadriel. He climbed into the boat, then looked around. There was... nowhere to hide. Not a single blasted place. So, with a groan of reluctance, he slid into the water and mourned the papers in his bag. He grabbed the end of the boat and prepared himself for a very long time in the water; he had to make it at least far enough that they couldn't turn back, before he revealed himself.

        Then they were moving, and it was harder than he thought to hold on to the boat without letting his fingers be seen. He got the hang of it quickly though, and he got to listen to Gimli talk about the three golden hairs that Galadriel gave him. Kinda weird, but Elliott wasn't one to kink shame. Or maybe it was a cultural thing? Whatever, he couldn't hear much more after that aince it wasn't their boat he was holding onto - it was the hobbits' - and the boats parted quickly. He hung on tightly, closing his eye as he let the hobbits in the boat row him along.

        Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Horrible idea. Why did he think to do that? By the time night fell and they stopped on a small island, Elliott was shivering, soaked to the bone, and his arms were killing him. He released the boat as the others stepped into shore, and splashed up alongside them.

          It might have been worth it for the looks on their faces though. "Ha! You can't get rid of me!" he proclaimed, though the effect was offset by how much he was shivering and dripping.

        "Elliott!? How did'ja-? Have you been holding onto the back o' the boat this whole time!?" Gimli yelped, eyes wide, and Boromir hurried over with a blanket already in hand.

        "Yep! I can't feel my arms!" he said proudly, even as Boromir scrubbed him with the blanket to get the water off. Aragorn put his head in his hands, muttering something about elflings and trouble. Elliott just grinned.