Smoke: smoke was everywhere. It was in my lungs, burning my eyes and drawing tears. Fear surged through my body like a rain of arrows on a hot wind. My limbs ached with a fire I had never know before now. My home – the place I had spent my whole life – was burning, burning to the ground while I struggled to find an escape.

My eyes raked over the shop on the first floor. The herbs hanging from the ceiling had burned away and were smoking on the floor. The glass in the display case beside me warped and cracked. I ducked just in time to avoid being pelted by a wave of shattered glass as it exploded around the shop.

For a singular moment I saw shards of glass flying through the air – highlighted by the white-hot tongues of flame – glittering like diamonds; briefly suspended in the air as everything around me slowed to a halt.

My eyes snapped open. Adrenaline rushed through my body and my heart exploded within my chest – the beat no longer rhythmic – and it pounded at the confines of my ribs as if it could break through my body's shell at any moment. My body shot up and I grabbed my sword from beside me and snapped it open, aiming it at the open door...

The door... I took a shuddering breath. My mouth was agape, and my eyes were so wide I feared they might fall from their sockets. I was shaking so violently that the blade of my sword wobbled in the air before me. There were no embers or shards of glass in the air. I was no longer blinded by a smothering cloud of smoke. There was no fire, no destruction.

Everything was serene and peaceful here. I wasn't in Gondor – back in my burning home –. I was here, in Rivendell. I took a few deep breaths. My chest hurt with the erratic beating of my heart, and my head swam.

"Valerie?" a voice called from beside me. I turned, white hair whipping around my face and I turned to see the unseen speaker. I was met with a pair of frightened brown eyes. I couldn't help but feel guilty that I had caused that fear. Bilbo was stiff and staring at me as if I were a snake that would strike at any moment.

"Bilbo." I breathed and set my sword down, using my hand to push my tangled hair out of my face so I could see him better. "I'm sorry, just startled is all." I said and slowly swung my legs over the edge of the bed the elves had offered me.

"Were you having a nightmare?" Bilbo asked as he relaxed a bit. I felt my cheeks flush red as I nodded hesitantly. How embarrassing it was to admit that I'd had a night terror. Something about it felt strange.

"It was a memory." I whispered as I stood up and walked over to the mirror. I wore a simple night dress. It was long sleeved and ankle length. It was a shade of wild aster pink, thin yet opaque and warm. As I leaned in to look at my stitches in the mirror, I realized how ghost-like I looked, and that made me worried. I must have scared Bilbo so terribly – looking like this –.

"Oh..." Bilbo trailed off; seemingly concluding that I was not ready to divulge this information just yet.

"What are you doing up now?" I asked, dabbing my stiches with a damp cloth, dabbing away a few bubbles of red that had managed to escape. I let my gaze find his through the reflection in the mirror. He shifted on his feet as he walked up to the mirror beside me.

"I thought I'd go for a walk. Ran into Gandalf," Bilbo spoke.

"He's everywhere at once, that man." I smiled to myself and Bilbo nodded.

"he told me I should stop here and invite you. So – ahem – would you like to accompany me on a walk?" Bilbo asked timidly and I turned to face him with a smile on my chalky white face.

"I'd love to." I said with a respectful bow of my head and Bilbo smiled. "Maybe you could teach me how to wiggle my nose." I said playfully, gesturing to Bilbo's nose and he grinned.

"That would be a process that would take years to master." He said with a cheeky grin. "But it's always better to start now than never." He added and offered me his arm. I smiled at him and slid my green jacket on and took his arm; awkwardly tipping over to one side a little so I could wrap my hand around his offered elbow.

Bilbo and I walked peacefully through the valley. Golden sunlight spilled over the valley like a blanket of warmth. There were few elves around when Bilbo and I walked throughout the palace.

When we reached a staircase that led up into a hall that was full of golden sunlight, I felt a wave of familiarity wash over me. There was a statue of a woman, holding a stone tray, a blanket of pale blue velvet laid across the plate. Atop the velvet was the shards of a sword.

I marveled at the sight of the gleaming blade. It looked as though it hadn't been touched since the day it was laid here. It was silver and looked sharp and clean.

A memory sparked in my head and I cocked my head. This was the sword Narsil, it had been wielded by King Elendil, father of Isildur. This was a famous blade that I had been told stories about.

Usually, when my mother, grandmother, and aunts reenacted the war of the one ring, we used a feather duster or a wooden sword that had been crafted for one of my cousins who usually brought it to each play. Using a real blade was frowned upon by each of them – seeing as there were children present –.

"Uh, Valerie?" I turned away from the broken blade to look at Bilbo. His back was turned to me and he was staring at a large painting on the wall. It was painted chiefly with greys, beige, and a little bit of stormy blue. "Who's that?" Bilbo asked.

I didn't have to ask him who he was talking about, seeing that it was clear. There was a figure dressed in black armor, wielding a long and crude blade. I swallowed hard as fear ebbed at my mind, I knew this figure, from stories and songs sung by bards in Gondor's square.

"Sauron." I whispered and put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "He was a wicked man, bent on destroying Middle-earth and ruling over its people." I said and my eyes drifted over the painting. My eyes fell upon the golden ring on his right hand, and I felt a chill run up my spine.

Bilbo looked up at me – and seeing I was uncomfortable – and took my hand; leading me away from the painting that had ignited a terrible memory in my head.

Bilbo and I had left the hall and made our way around the palace, we walked over a thin bridge; not unlike the one we had crossed when we walked into the valley. Birds sang overhead, and Bilbo inclined his head to follow the birds that ranged from shades of brown to blue.

I stood with Bilbo on a balcony a few minutes later and he folded his hands behind his head and breathed in deeply. It was peaceful, and clear as the sun rose up from the east; its golden glow growing as it climbed up in the sky.

I heard footsteps behind us, and I turned to see Elrond. He wore robes of golden brown. His dark brown hair spilled over his shoulders like a silk curtain and I met his eyes. He stared at me as he walked over to Bilbo's other side. He seemed to be suspicious of me, and I knew he must not like me.

"Not with your companions?" Bilbo started a little and looked up at Elrond – unable to find his voice for a second –.

"Uh, No, I- I shan't be missed." Bilbo nodded and looked up at me with a glance that told me that he much preferred my company over the others for this moment.

Elrond gave me a strange, thoughtful look and I glanced down at Bilbo. "I've got to step away for a moment." I whispered and Bilbo stuttered before he nodded.

"Oh- oh, alright then." He said and offered me a kind smile which I returned. I stepped back and let my gaze drift up to Elrond as I walked away.

"The truth is that most of them don't think I should be on this journey." Bilbo spoke and I listened as his voice faded away the further away, I got.

I was confused and anxious. Why would Elrond look at me with either fear, discomfort, or condescension in his eyes? It made me feel strange and cold. He didn't want me here, and that was all too clear. What did he see in me that happened to discomfort him? With every moment I dwelled on this I grew bitter and I felt anxiety and energy bubble in my body. The energy in my skin began to glow and pulse with light. I could see the glow through the aster pink sleeves; and I subconsciously rubbed my arms.

Was I too dangerous? I knew that my abilities have an element of danger, but I could control it. Maybe Elrond saw something I didn't. I wondered if the others could see it too...