"Legolas and I shall scout ahead. We must find the portage-way I know of. Let us hope it still is serviceable." Aragorn spoke to the company the next morning. "If we do not return by tomorrow, then you must elect a new leader and chart your own course."

Miril watched as Aragorn and Legolas trotted off into the distance, over rocky shoals and vine-covered outcrops. Soon they had disappeared from view. Aragorn had explained to the Fellowship that morning that they had to find a way to carry the boats past the rapids. None had even survived the rapids of Sarn Gebir, and despite the sturdiness of the elven boats, they didn't wish to press their luck.

Miril stood with her back against a tree trunk, looking out over the water. She was fingering the mithril hilt of her sword, lost in thought. She found herself agreeing with Boromir's assertion that any going to Gondor should leave as soon as they could, but she was not going to abandon the Ring-bearer until she had Aragorn's blessing. She also desired to see the Gates of Argonath.

Suddenly she felt someone tug on her cloak. She looked over and down and found Merry and Pippin standing before her.

"We said your name but you didn't answer," Pippin explained.

Miril smiled. "Sorry. What do you need?"

"We're bored!" Pippin blurted out. "We were wondering if you could tell us a story. Something to pass the time."

Miril sighed but nodded. "Sure. Perhaps that's what we all need right now.

She left her unofficial post by the tree and went to sit on the ground by the Company. She looked at Frodo and Sam, both of whom were looking doubtfully between the river and the way Aragorn and Legolas had gone. She looked at Gimli who seemed as lost in thought as she had been not long ago. She looked at Boromir, but all she could see was his back as he sat near the bank of the river watching the waves.

"Alright." She smiled. "A story. Hm. What kind of story do you want?"

Merry shrugged. "Anything interesting."

"Why not tell us what you do when you aren't questing with Strider!" Pippin suggested.

Miril gave a small smile. "Okay then. I'll tell you about my expeditions with the Sons of Elrond."

Gimli turned from his thoughts and listened with the hobbits. He was curious about Miril.

"There was this one time when I was a newly named Ranger..."

"Come on, Miril. You can help us on our hunt in the Ettenmoors," Elrohir suggested through her bedroom door.

Miril, at the young age of 26, hadn't been going on Dunedain missions for long at all, a few months tops. The sons of Elrond were eager to get her used to the fight and insisted on taking her on one of their escapades into troll and orc country.

"Okay, give me a second!" she called from where she was changing into her tunic and pants for the hunt.

Elrohir smiled and stood back from the door. Elladan was busy getting his sword sharpened. They were to leave soon, though. Finally Miril left her room and grabbed her sword on her way. She strapped it onto her belt as she and Elrohir walked to join Elladan.

"Ah so you are coming," Elladan nodded with a smile. "Good. We could use your tracking skills."

"Please," she crossed her arms skeptically. "You two would do fine without me there."

"Maybe," Elladan smirked. "Maybe not."

Elrohir laughed. "Let us go."

The Twins and Miril left Rivendell on foot. They didn't want to risk bringing horses into the Trollshaws and Ettenmoors. Besides, it was no more than a day's travel from Rivendell to where the orcs had been sighted. Also, the fact that Miril lacked a horse made matters like that more complicated.

They traveled all day taking only short breaks for food and water. Miril was examining a track in the earth and some broken twigs in the twilight when they heard it.

"I don't know, Garm. I think orc tastes good!"

"You're stupid, Tim! Everyone knows orc is the worst."

Elrohir, Elladan, and Miril all froze instantly. It was trolls. Miril had never fought a troll. In fact, the only troll she'd ever seen was already stone.

"It's less mushy than human flesh, Garm. It's tougher. I like tough meat."

Miril turned slowly to Elladan and Elrohir. "We should leave."

They were about to agree when suddenly Miril, in her haste to stand up, accidently broke a twig with her foot. The trolls immediately stopped talking and looked over at them.

The three hunters could just make them out in the gloom of the now-fully fallen night.

"It's a she-elf! Get her!" One of them cried, pointing at Miril.

"I like she-elf meat, Garm." The one called Tim said loudly as he grabbed his club and wandered over to Miril and the still hidden twins.

Miril drew her sword in defiance and was going to turn towards the Twins when she realized they were no longer there.

"Great."

She knew they must be around somewhere. They probably had a plan. They better have a plan. As the troll named Tim went to grab her, Miril stabbed upwards with her sword and sliced down the troll's palm. It howled in pain and greenish grey blood oozed from its wound. Garm, the other troll, scowled and stomped forward to help his friend.

She supposed they were fortunate that these were hill trolls and not cave trolls. Cave troll hide was so thick that ordinary swords could not pierce it. Hill trolls, on the other hand, had hide more like orcs. Thick, but not impervious to weapons.

"The little she-elf cut me!"

Miril grinned but soon that fell from her face as the two trolls faced her together. One swung his club so hard and fast that she barely had time to dodge it. The other one went to smash her with his foot when suddenly two arrows each imbedded themselves in either troll's neck. Miril, seizing the opportunity, rolled out from under Tim and slammed her sword into his chest. One down, one more to go. But she was too slow.

Garm grabbed her on his hand and brought her up to his face. Blood was beginning to seep out of his mouth from where the arrow wounds that continued to pepper him began to take their toll.

Miril felt like she was being squeezed to death. She shouted for the Twins to hurry up and as the last word left her mouth, she heard a sword slice through hide. Garm fell backwards onto the ground, his grip on her loosening.

She rolled out of his hand and onto the ground, panting. Miril felt dizzy. She lay on her back trying to regain her breath. Elrohir rushed over to her and looked down, kneeling beside her. Elladan was busy wrenching his sword from the troll's somach.

"Are you alright?" Elrohir asked in concern, helping her sit up.

She sighed, looking at her black and blue arms. "Just very bruised."

Elladan came over. "We should get you back to Rivendell. Enough action for one trip."

They all agreed with that.

"Were you alright," Merry asked quickly.

Miril smiled. "Yes. Mostly just bruised, both my body and my ego. I had been so sure I was ready to handle the wilds. Little did I realize just how much left I had to learn. And still do."

Frodo looked at her curiously. "You have been a ranger how long?"

"Nearly eighteen years now." Miril shook her head. "Time has flown by, that is for sure. But I have learned much about the trials of the wild."

"The wilds are a dangerous place." Aragorn nodded as he and Legolas reemerged from the rocks and trees. "But if you learn to use the wild, it can become an ally."

"You found the path, then?" Boromir asked, coming over.

"Indeed. But it will take the strength of us men to carry the boats over the obstacles to get to the path." Aragorn sighed. "Come. We should start now."

The Company emptied the supplies out of the boats. Boromir and Aragorn lifted one of the surprising light boats up into the air while Legolas stayed behind to guard the remainder of the supplies that weren't going to be carried by the rest of the company. Gimli and Sam took the bulk of the weight. They did end up making two trips, as on the last one Legolas and Miril took the second of the last two boats alongside Boromir and Aragorn.

When at last late that night they reached the river past the rapids of Sarn Gebir, the company rested. Aragorn and Boromir took first watch as the others slept, followed by Legolas and Miril. The next morning, they needed to be rested. It would be day number ten, the last of their journey down the Anduin.