Summary: Aragorn moves from the North down South where he gets a job as a cowboy. He travels with one companion and the occansional other but brigands seek to kill his companion because that is the only way to get total control over a certain kingdom. Watch out Aragorn, you have to deal with drunken thirteen year olds, moody Elves, epicaly failing brigands, stubborn horses, show off-y dwarves, weird wizards, immature and odd hobbits, and wary Gondorians. Do you miss Rivendell yet, Aragorn?
"Howdy," A smiling elderly Man greeted Aragorn as he stepped out of the wagon. Aragorn blinked dumbly. What did Arwen tell him that means? Oh! It meant hello.
"Hello." Aragorn shook the Man's hand.
"I suppose yer comin out here for a new life?" The Man nodded.
"Yes," Aragorn replied trying to stay polite. The Man was dirty, dressed oddly, and he could barely understand him!
"Ya need ta meet Miss Dúvenien. She'll make sure yer taken care of." The Man said brightly.
"Where is she, what does she look like, and what is your name?" Aragorn stressed proper grammar a little bit hoping that he would get the message.
"She's in that there saloon over yonder. She has red-blonde hair, a very lightly tanned skinned, and either blue or green eyes. She's short and don't let her fool ya, she's the stuff ya have ta be ta live down in here. My name's Billy Dean Field, but everyone calls me Billy or Bill." The Man grinned. "That's mah grandkid over yonder, Chelsea Dane Clementine Field. If'n ya can't find Dúvenien, go ta her and she'll get ya ta her."
"Thank you Billy," Aragorn said as he walked to the Saloon.
"Howdy stranger, what brings ya to this humble town?" the barmaid waltzed towards Aragorn winking flirtatiously.
"I'm looking for Miss Dúvenien." Aragorn replied.
"New ta town? She's in tha back corner. Call her 'Ven, she prefers it." The bar maid knowingly winked at Aragorn. "Billy always sends the new bloods ta find her." Both looked at the back corner where a small figure was reclining on a chair a bottle in her hand, a Winchester pistol in the other, and her feet propped up on the table.
"Thank you." Aragorn looked at the barmaid worriedly. Seeing this, the barmaid laughed.
"We call new folk new bloods because, well…." A sad look crossed her face and she quieted down. "Every new person to come here so far have gone brigand. Seems fair that we call them that since that's what they are."
"Don't you have law enforcement?" Aragorn asked incredulously.
"Tha last Sheriff was ran out by tha brigands ten years ago, all deputies were shot, and they carried off or shot most of tha folks that were brave or stupid enough ta stand in their way." The barmaid whispered.
"Oh…" Aragorn was starting to think that this was a bad idea to come here. No law enforcement, brigands running amuck, that many deaths, it did not sound like a good town. He gulped and walked tentatively towards the figure.
"So Ol Bill sent ma anuther new blood?" the figure smirked. "Don't git many nowadays."
"Uh… I'm Aragorn, and you are Dúvenien, am I right?" Aragorn said quickly. This figure was intimidating.
"Yep, ya come ta live here or are ya visitin'?" Ven asked.
"Live here," Aragorn attempted not to squeak.
"Ya'r gunna have ta git a job." Ven pointed out.
"Have any ideas on a job?" Aragorn asked.
"Ya mind bein' out in tha heat, bein' 'way from yer home fer a long time? Mind bein' with cattle all day and night, ridin' horses, and the like? Not ta mention that ye'll only have one uther person with ya normally?" Ven raised her eyebrow.
"No… Why?" Araogorn asked.
"Then I got ya a job. Can ya shoot a gun?" Ven asked.
"Yes, my older brothers taught me how to shoot a gun." Aragorn nodded.
"Ya bring one with ya frum tha North?" Ven asked.
"No, I always used the guns that my father had. How did you know I was from the North?" Aragorn asked suspiciously.
"Yer all proper, yer accent, yer well dressed, and I got wee Hobbits frum tha Shire, Dwarves frum everywhere, Elves, mah kin, frum everywhere, I got Humans frum everywhere, and yer accent is like the Imaldrian one, they is frum the North." Ven put her hands behind her head and grinned. "I even got a Gondorian here. Nice Man, the last new blood that aint gone brigand. If'n ye'll take tha job, he will be goin out with ya sumtimes, but it aint cause he'll like ya, it's cause of yer companion. Has a special spot in his heart fer yer companion, he does." Ven smirked.
"I think I'll take the job." Aragorn was curious as to who this mysterious person was.
"Good! Come on, I'll take ya ta git a gun and then I'll introduce ya to yer companion." Ven grinned as she swung her feet down and stood up. Aragorn was shocked at the height of the girl she was very short.
"How old are you, I mean no offense?" Aragorn asked.
"Thirteen." Ven replied.
"Are you old enough to drink? Why-"Aragorn was silenced.
"There aint much water 'round here. I carry a gun cause I need it fer mah job. I herd cattle when tha cowboys, cow-elves, cow-dwarfs, cow-hobbits, doesn't matter, are on tha cattle drive. Tha cattle can't go months without food or water. Brigands try ta take tha cattle and I got ta protect mahself and tha cattle." Ven replied.
Ok...
Can you guys guess who Aragorn's companion will be? And the Gondorian that 'likes' said companion?
Please reveiw...