The Lord and Lady of Lothlòrien seated themselves once the rest of us were situated. Lord Celeborn began talking with Aragorn about battle strategies and the best armory and whatnot, but Lady Galadriel-what she did scared me.

She did nothing.

She sat primly at her plate, not even serving herself a bite, and stared at Frodo. Frodo, in turn, took small bites, glancing at her for brief moments before looking away once more. Then, he gave a weary smile at his plate. Simultaneously, Galadriel masked a smile of her own. And her gaze turned to Samwise. Samwise blushed bright red, and he stared dutifully at his plate.

And that's when it clicked. She was talking to them-in their minds. Panicked, I caught Legolas's eye, and he nodded subtly.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Why was this so scary for me? I'd faced death on more than one occasion, and while I'd been a little shaky afterwards, I'd never gotten this rattled.

But, back then, I'd always been alone. I'd denied the throne of Erebor and chosen the life of a mercenary. I'd had nothing to lose but a life I despised. Now, I had the Fellowship. Nine-no, eight, I corrected myself with a wince-other people that truly cared about me. Eight people that would be directly affected by whatever befell me today.

A moment later, Lord Celeborn's conversation with Aragorn petered out, and Lady Galadriel turned her stare onto my friend of old. He met her gaze bravely, but lines of concern etched into his expression.

Their silent conversation lasted a bit longer than the ones before, and beside me, Boromir began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Doubtless waiting his turn to be cross-examined, as I was. I reached across myself with my left hand to touch his arm comfortingly. He startled at our contact, then glanced at my hand. I motioned that he could hold it, and to my surprise, he accepted.

Holding Boromir's hand was not like holding Legolas's. Boromir gripped my hand as though it were a lifeline, the power in his hold testing the strength of even my bones. But despite the pain, I wouldn't deny him the gesture if it brought him comfort.

I felt Legolas's eyes drilling into the side of my head, so I met his gaze. His expression was disapproving, but the intensity in his expression didn't demand I pull away. Still...it was odd. Why would it bother him for me to give comfort to Boromir?

That trail of thought ended when Boromir's body went rigid. Slowly, he looked up at Lady Galadriel, then he began to tremble.

That scared me. If a full-grown Man and a trained warrior was shaking like a leaf from mere words within his mind, I wanted nothing to do with whatever this Lady had to say to me.

"You comfort him."

I jumped at the sudden sound of Galadriel's voice. But, judging by the stoic expressions from everyone else, only I could hear her. Except Legolas. He'd noticed my reaction, and was watching me with a concerned expression.

"Of course I comfort Boromir," I snapped internally. "He's frightened."

"He has seen the true depths of his own heart," Galadriel replied. "He is right to be afraid."

There was an awkward silence in our "conversation". In fact, awkward silence had settled over the entire table. And I found it remarkably difficult to not think about the things I didn't want Galadriel to know about. To occupy my mind, I studied the one thing I found remotely interesting.

Legolas.

His hair had apparently been washed since last night, and was now combed out and hanging down midway between his shoulders and elbows. The silver tunic he wore drew attention to the gold in his hair, and electric blue of his eyes. His dark eyebrows quirked up in amused curiosity at my open stare, but I didn't look away. I didn't dare.

A tinkling laugh sounded out, at least in my mind. "You guard your mind dutifully, Amariel, but a detailed account of the prince's legendary attractiveness will not prevent me from searching your mind."

Mordor. I let my gaze drop back to my plate, and I studied a slice of tomato, just for something to do with my eyes.

"You think I am angry." Her voice-or mental voice-was mildly amused. "It will undoubtedly come as a shock to you that I am not."

I snapped my gaze up to meet hers. "You aren't?"

Lady Galadriel gave me a serene smile. "No. I was aware of your presence the moment you entered my realm-this time and the last. Aware, and quite fascinated."

My eyes widened. "If you knew...why didn't you stop me?"

"I was curious at your dedication to your mission-and your determination to escape the past."

I looked away. "You mean Erebor."

"Indeed." A pause, then, "Look at me." I obeyed-I could hardly do otherwise. Then Galadriel said, "I was awake that night you came to my bedchamber. I was even the one to send my husband away-I feared he would overreact when your intents became evident."

I took a deep, steadying breath. "You were waiting for me, knowing what I intended. Yet, you allowed me to enter your room and leave freely. Why?"

Another slight smile became evident on her elegant face. "Rest assured, I was in no way unprepared. But I wanted to know if you would truly attempt to kill me, or if your natural respect for life would prevent you. I was not disappointed."

I gave a tiny sigh of relief.

"However."

That tiny sigh of relief stuck in my throat.

"There is still the matter of your behavior toward my marchwarden and his brother."

I flinched and reluctantly met Lady Galadriel's saddened gaze. "Yeah...about that..." I bit my lip, trying to organize my thoughts. Not that it mattered, since she'd already been through them all. "I'm not proud of that," I answered finally. "There are a lot of things I'm not proud of...but that ranks among the highest."

"Right alongside of teasing my grandsons."

I cringed. Sad that I had to ask, but, "And...who are your grandsons?"

"Elladan and Elrohir."

I choked on my spit. Coughed a couple times, then exclaimed, "What!?"

Lady Galadriel was definitely trying not to laugh now. "Yes, Elrond Half-Elven is my son-in-law. But, that is another conversation for another time. And I do hope we may speak again, for there is much to discuss."

I squirmed uncomfortably. I couldn't think of anything I'd rather do less. Except maybe kiss Dwalin. That would be disgusting.

"But, for the time being, I should like to know why you joined the Fellowship of the Ring."

The Ring! I snuck a glance at Frodo, which he noticed, and frowned at. "Well...I joined because I was bored, and I didn't want to stay in Rivendell."

"But you could have quit at any time," Galadriel argued. "You could have sought out adventure further south, or west, or even returned to Erebor. Yet, you chose to brave the hardships the Fellowship has faced. Even when Legolas lost consciousness in the dark of Moria, you carried him out at great risk to yourself. Why?"

I didn't answer immediately. I didn't even know. Why had I?

"Search yourself," Galadriel said gently. "Find the answer. For knowing your own heart is the key to understanding your own actions."

My thoughts shifted to the Foragar-Eru, I didn't even know where it was. But that little compass said nearly the exact same thing on the back. I was about to question Galadriel about it, but her gaze had already shifted to Gimli.

I closed my eyes and let out a soft breath, relaxing in my chair. Boromir's callused thumb scraped over my knuckles, reminding me I still held his hand. I met the Man's gaze, which was still agonized in a way I didn't understand, but it also held concern for me. I gave him a soft nod to tell him I was okay.

Under the table, a foot rested on top of mine, and startled, I looked up at Legolas.

I'm okay, I mouthed at him. He nodded his response, then raised an eyebrow pointedly at my plate.

"Yes, mother," I replied, then realized a moment too late Galadriel was the only one that heard that. I gave an internal huff. This in-the-brain talking just wasn't natural.

"Bah!" Gimli exclaimed suddenly.

The entire Fellowship startled at his unexpected reaction, as well as Lord Celeborn. Lady Galadriel just smiled and kept looking at Gimli.

Legolas gave a disgusted exhale and rolled his eyes, then returned to eating. I covered my mouth, pretending to muffle a hiccup or something, but masking a snicker instead. I was extremely grateful to be only half Dwarf.

After a moment, Legolas looked up at Galadriel, his gaze tranquil. A slight furrow appeared between his eyebrows, and he glanced at me.

They were talking about me.

I bit my lip, staring at my plate. I couldn't help wondering what they were saying, wondering what Legolas was thinking. Was Galadriel telling him about my dealings with Haldir and Rùmil? I seriously doubted Legolas would take that as lightly as he had the rest of what I'd revealed.

"Rest assured, Amariel, I do not share secrets that do not belong to me."

I looked up at Galadriel, startled that she'd decided to weigh in on my dilemma.

She met my gaze. "But if you hope to maintain any lasting friendship with the prince, you must share with him the entirety of your past. The truth he accepts. It is falsehood and deceit that Legolas will not forgive so easily."

Mordor. I was screwed.