Aramina opened her eyes to find that she had grown. She was at least eighteen now, and dressed in a tunic and shirt similar to Galadin’s. A sword was belted around her waist, and a bow and a quiver of arrows was strapped to her back.
“Now you look like your ancestor, the first Aramina,” said Galadriel sadly, “She was a fighter, but a good elf.”
“Wait a second, I’m an elf?” Aramina asked. Well, that would certainly explain a lot of things.
“Yes, but there’s no time for that now,” Galadriel said, “The Fellowship of the Ring will be here at any moment.”
An elf-horn sounded through the trees.
Aramina accompanied Galadriel and Galadin to the clearing where the Fellowship was being recieved. Galadriel invited them to stay, because they all looked ragged and grief-stricken. This gave Aramina a chance to get to know the people she would be traveling with for the next year or so.
When the Fellowship prepared to leave, Galadriel told them that she was sending one of her finest warriors to accompany them. Boromir looked on Aramina with doubt, but the others seemed to accept her.