I always planned to have a bit of romance in this fic, but it feels like cheating if I give the pairing away. I like to keep you all guessing.

So, I just got a guest review saying that I stole this work from OpalVampire. Let me clear things up to say that I am OpalVampire. I had that username back when I was thirteen and loved vampires. I don't anymore and in fact am quite sick of vampires. So I finally decided to change my username to one that still contained Opal but got rid of the vampire.

Hopefully whoever thinks that I'm stealing won't try to report me because this is indeed my creation. OctoberOpal is OpalVampire. One and the same.

~~**I**~~

Light Before Darkness

In the Shire, oddities were not common. But when they came, they were never forgotten. When young Bilbo Baggins left Bag End and disappeared for a year, that was an oddity. When he returned with heaps of gold - though that was little more than a rumor, it was just a small chest - hidden in Bag End, that was an oddity. When dwarves came along around tea time at Bag End, that was an oddity as well. And the wizard, Gandalf, still showed up from time to time. He was an odd one, as most older folk of the Shire believed.

Another oddity was when Gandalf began to bring a little girl around Bag End. She was about nine years of age and just over the height of a full grown hobbit. Her hair was red sprinkled with golden honey tones and she had a sweet, pretty face. She'd ridden in a cart next to the wizard and gazed in slight wonder at the little hobbits. Many of the hobbits thought that the young girl was Gandalf's daughter, even though they looked next to nothing alike. They didn't know whether this girl would be the same oddity in which the wizard was, or not.

When the two of them first came to the Shire, the first thing to go out the window was her name. It wasn't so hard to pronounce, but the hobbits just seemed to have a bit of trouble remembering the full of it. Bilbo was perfectly able, but when it came to introducing her throughout Hobbiton, that's where the trouble began.

She'd been strolling along with Bilbo in the marketplace. Bilbo was getting some fish for dinner and now had a little rascal to watch over. Gandalf was still at Bag End smoking his pipeweed outside. He wanted a bit of relaxation from his journey while the girl was eager to see a new place.

Bilbo had began introducing the young girl to the hobbits. "This is Elaniel," he introduced her to old Ruby Bramble. Had the last of her dark hair finally gone grey? It seemed so. "And this is Ruby Bramble, Elaniel."

Young Elaniel gave a little curtsy in her pale yellow sundress. Small boots could been seen from where her skirts fell just above her ankles. "Pleasure to meet you, Ruby Bramble," she greeted the elderly hobbit lady.

"How do you do, Elanel?" Ruby Bramble stumbled over the young girl's name.

"Elaniel," Bilbo corrected. Perhaps her hearing was getting bad.

"Yes, Elanel," Ruby nodded.

Ruby was one of the few to get the girl's name wrong, but the others began to simply forget it. Elaniel and Gandalf had been staying in Bag End for a few days and already Bilbo or Elaniel had to patiently tell the hobbits her name again. It wasn't until the end of the first week that Bilbo came up with a solution.

"My dear hobbits," Bilbo would say, "this is Ella."

That was much easier for the hobbits to remember. All around everyone became familiar with the name Ella immediately and its association with the young girl who was Gandalf's daughter. The hobbits simply began to refer to her by that as she never came to the Shire without the wizard.

Ella was endeared in the Shire a bit more than Gandalf was. She would chase the little hobbit children through the streets and fields, spinning them in the air as she caught them and grinning madly as the little ones shrieked in excitement. She also had a flare for magic like the wizard and showed plenty of little tricks to the hobbitfolk. It was a lot like the wizard's fireworks in fact, which again was why the hobbits were so keen in believing Ella was Gandalf's daughter. With several hobbits gathered around her, Ella would cup her hands in front of her as if concealing some great secret. Slowly opening up her hands, fire would shoot from her hands in the shapes of birds and they would fly around in graceful arcs until they shot up to the sky in a shower of sparks. A different time, she would light a fireball in her hand the size of an apple - the hobbits always amazed that she didn't burn herself - and tossed it back and forth until she created another one and passed them from hand to hand. She added another fireball and another and another until she had five fireballs and juggled them.

As for Ella, no matter how dark the outside world could get, there was always happiness to be found within the Shire.

It was to be a party of special magnificence. The one hundred and eleventh birthday of Bilbo Baggins. Unlike his last few birthdays, which were rather quiet affairs, this one would include most the Shire - if not all and it would include fireworks the likes of which the hobbits have not seen in decades. Gandalf had outdone himself this time. Especially on the last one. Oh, Elaniel couldn't wait to see it.

The two of them sat in a horse-drawn wagon, so much like the time Elaniel had first come to the Shire. That had been the day. Just at the passing of summer, though it still seemed to cling to the season in the Shire. The leaves were still green and attatched to the trees and the grass was lush. It had been such a comfort to Elaniel at the time to be in such a quaint and happy place. Gandalf had been right to bring her here year after year in her youth. Those happy memories were always something nice to cling to in dark times.

The two rode slowly along the path, singing lightly. "The Road goes ever on and on. Down from the door where it began." They were just passing the Eastfarthing woods. "Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow if I can."

"You're late."

Gandalf stopped the cart and Elaniel gave him a sideways glance, a small twinkle in her eye.

"A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins," Gandalf said. "Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

But Frodo Baggins stared them down, hard and unblinking for several moments until a grin began to spread across his face and the three of them burst into small fits of laughter. Then Frodo leaped into their cart, landing an embrace on both of them. Carefully, they squeezed into the cart, Frodo between Gandalf and Elaniel, and continued on.

"You didn't think we'd miss this day, did you?" Gandalf asked. From the other side, Elaniel wrapped an arm around Frodo and gave him a side hug. His first one had pretty much been flopped over her with the hobbit's arms around Gandalf's neck. Not the best execution.

"I see you're doing well," Gandalf added. "But how is the old rascal? I hear it's going to be a party of special magnificence."

"You know Bilbo," Frodo chuckled. "He's got half the place in an uproar."

That sounded like Bilbo. One day he's a hermit, and others he's the social gossip of the town. The first day Elaniel arrived in the Shire, he'd gone around Hobbiton and introduced her to half the town. Just as they'd forgotten her name, she'd forgotten half of theirs. The next couple days Elaniel had been sitting on the porch or in front of the hearth and listening to Bilbo's grand adventure. Then there was a good dinner party with about ten hobbits among Bilbo, Ella, and Gandalf the next week. And as the two of them left the Shire after three weeks, Bilbo was back to being a hermit. He was odd like that.

Gandalf seemed to find it amusing too. "Well, that should please him."

"Half the Shire's been invited," Frodo told them. That seemed about right. "The rest of them are turning up anyway." Even more so. The three of them shared a good laugh about that. No doubt that was the situation for the Sackville-Bagginses.

Hobbits could be seen off the road, tending to fields covered in yellow wild flowers still left over from the summer. Elaniel could see the town across the river and they rolled over the bridge and made their way. Children were running through the streets chasing chickens, while parents made busy at the market square. Green hills spread about a mile with spots of ponies and cows, goats and sheep, as well as fields full of harvest. Yes, it was going to be a fine day. And an even better night.

Several hobbits waved as the cart passed by, calling out to Gandalf and Elaniel - of course, calling her Ella. Bilbo's little nickname. She was always amused at the situation of her name. Sometimes she wondered that if she were to ask around for what her full name was, the hobbitfolk would state, "Why, Ella, of course."

It had been more amusing than annoying in the beginning. Elaniel was bad at remembering names as well. When you meet more than fifty people in one day, names begin to go in one ear and fall out the other.

Still, things were unchanging in the Shire. The little holes in the ground where hobbits made their homes, the ales they brewed, food they made, the pipeweed they smoked - Gandalf had just lit his pipe and smoked as well - it was all the same. And it would always be beautiful.

"To tell you the truth," Frodo said after a few moments of silence. "Bilbo's been a bit odd lately."

Elaniel quirked an eyebrow. A bit odd? Bilbo? Really?

Gandalf seemed to think the same as he sent an amused glance over Frodo's head. Frodo did as well. "Well, more than usual," he added.

"How so?" Elaniel asked.

"He's taken to locking himself up in his study," Frodo explained. "He spends hours and hours pouring over old maps when he thinks I'm not looking. He's up to something."

Gandalf hummed slightly, smoke whisping out of his mouth and a considering look in his eye. Did he know something? But when Frodo looked his way, he faced front again, nonchalant.

Frodo scoffed bemusedly. "Fine then. Keep your secrets." Gandalf blustered slightly, feeling accused. Elaniel shook her head, smiling. Of course he would have something to do with something, or at least know about it. "But I know you have something to do with it."

"Good gracious me..." Gandalf muttered.

"Before you came along, we Bagginses were well thought of," Frodo said. "Never went on any adventures or did anything unexpected."

"You have to admit, Gandalf," Elaniel added. "You bring trouble wherever you go."

"Don't you go accusing me of bringing trouble, Elaniel," Gandalf chided. "You bring far more of it than I do, especially with that tongue of yours."

Elaniel stuck out her tongue to him in a light-mannered way. "Maybe the hobbits are right and I am your daughter. In spirit, anyway," she said.

"You have no need for my reputation, my dear. You make a good enough one on your own," Gandalf told her. "Besides Frodo, if you're referring to the incident with the dragon, I was barely involved."

Frodo and Elaniel looked at the wizard with the same thought. On the contrary, quite involved indeed.

"All I did was give your uncle a little nudge out of the door," Gandalf finished.

Elaniel scoffed at this one. Of course that's all he did.

Frodo laughed. "Whatever you did, you've been officially labeled a disturber of the peace."

But Gandalf didn't seem too offended by that. In fact, he was pleasantly amused.

They passed old Odo Proudfoot, sweeping the walkway of his hole...house. Elaniel smiled at his dour expression. It never changed or ceased to amuse her. She had yet to see a smile on that hobbit's face or even in his eyes. He even shook his head as they passed by.

Hobbit children could be heard calling for the wizard as they finally noticed him passing though. "Gandalf! Gandalf! Fireworks, Gandalf, fireworks!" They all let out collective groans and sighs as the wizard did not acknowledge them. He kept his face pointedly forward and continued on the road.

But just as the children had given up hope, a light spray of fireworks exploded from the back of the cart. The happy cries of the little hobbits could be heard as Frodo smiled and Gandalf and Elaniel let out laughter.

Frodo and Elaniel soon left the cart as Gandalf continued on to Bag End to see Bilbo. "Tell him I'll come by before the party starts," Elaniel told Gandalf as she and Frodo headed toward the Green Dragon. Most who weren't readying the party in the pavilion were most likey there.

Another reason why birthdays were so glorious in the Shire. Gifts were given all around. While they didn't have to be exquisite or expensive, it still had a way of putting a smile on one's face. And Elaniel certainly had a few to share. In fact, she had a whole bag full.

She first handed Frodo his gift, which was gently wrapped in a cloth. Inside was a necklace on a fine silver chain. It had a charm of glass that Elaniel had made by the glass-maker from her home. It was clear glass with a rune in the middle made in red. The rune was diamond-shaped with a vertical line going down the middle and past the corners where they hooked in opposite directions. It was their rune of protection and vitality. "Happy birthday, Frodo."

Frodo thanked her and clasped it around his neck.

In the Green Dragon, they found Frodo's favorite cousins; Merry and Pippin. Merry was given special juggling rocks - he'd been practicing a lot since she was last in the Shire. And she gave Pippin a bright blue knitted scarf. It was plain, but the best Elaniel could do. She didn't have much patience to sit around and do something like that. While Pippin did try his hand out at juggling, he couldn't get it quite right. He kept hitting himself. One day he might get it right.

Before they left the hobbit bar, Elaniel gifted the lovely barmaid, Rosie Cotton, with a flower crown. It had been weaved in with ribbons as well and it took a while to set it just right on the hobbit lass's head. But the result looked positively stunning.

Elaniel herself even had flowers in her hair. Well, one big flower. Her hair had been braided into a bun at the back of her head and on the left side sat a fire flower. Larger than her palm, the fire flower bloomed in an assortment of petals colored from deep red to orange and even some yellows. She even had a small pouch of the red seeds as a gift to Frodo's gardener and friend, Sam. There had been some growing in Bilbo's garden for years and Sam always had compliments for them, so Elaniel found it was the perfect gift for the gardener. Fire flowers didn't need a whole lot of water to grow, just sunlight. It was resilient enough to stay alive during the winter so long as it had ample time to grow beforehand.

When she met up with Bilbo, she gifted him with books of songs and histories of her people - something he was always curious to learn. The rest of her gifts were handed out to various hobbits Elaniel at least remembered by name.

And when the party started, Frodo was right to say that half the Shire and more had come. But more than just a party, there was entertainment at every corner. Lots of food and drink going around - of course, if it's concerning hobbits - and music and dancing. She did not envy Bilbo, who had to greet every one of his party goers.

Hobbits were always ones for the most easy dancing music. It was light and carefree and when there were steps to learn, they were laughably easy to remember. And it was perfect for the dress Elaniel wore. A deep violet color with the shortest of sleeves that brushed over her shoulders and the skirts fell just above her ankles. The way in which the skirts were layered made for Elaniel to hold them in her hands and make a lovely sweeping effect. She'd taken her boots off a while ago and danced the soft grass barefoot.

Together with Frodo, Elaniel danced among the shorter hobbits. Despite being over two feet taller than Frodo, she kept a nice rhythm without looking foolish or stepping on any toes. Next along was Pippin who attempted the dance like he would with a hobbit lass. It didn't work out so well. Elaniel thought of an alternative and heaved him into her arms where he was at eye level with her and she danced for the two of them. He seemed to enjoy that very much as the grin never left his face.

Then there was Gandalf, who complimented her very much more in height. She smiled and laughed at his clumsy foot work. How was it that he could seem so incompetent at a simple dance? Perhaps he was humoring her as he did for most the hobbits. Or maybe because it made the Grey Wizard even more charming. He laughed as they nearly bumped into Sam and Rosie but it was all in good fun and Gandalf gave something of a knowing glance. Yes, all in good fun.

And of course, Elaniel had to dance with Bilbo. For a hobbit past a century in years, he was still quite spry. His greying hair still had quite a bit of color to it and his wrinkles were only a few. Despite his near run in with the Sackville-Bagginses earlier, he seemed to be having a joyous time.

Gandalf had gone back to his fireworks and the hobbits all gathered in a circle around Elaniel and insist she juggle again. Elaniel complied, slowly gathering five fireballs in her hands and juggling them. She added a bit of flare and flourish and even threw the balls in time with the music.

Then there was a big commotion as something exploded from inside one of the tents. It seemed as if one of Gandalf's fireworks had snagged on it. He never made a mistake like that. How did this happen?

She looked around and saw Gandalf a short ways away, looking up at the rogue firework and shaking his head. So that wasn't his doing.

The rogue exploded and thoroughly burned the cloth tent with a spray of sparks. Then it transformed. Oh, this was the one. This was what Gandalf spent so much time preparing. The special treat in honor of Bilbo's adventure. Elaniel watched as it morphed into a small dragon and turned in an arc down over the party. Initially fascinated, the hobbits began running scared and screaming as it flew inches over their heads. Tables were upturned and food crashed to the floor. It became useless for the hobbits to run away so they all fell to the ground as the dragon flew overhead. It sailed over the Bywater and exploded again in bursts of red. The hobbits' fear turned again into amazement as they ooo'd and ahh'd and rose to their feet in applause.

So that what it looked like. It was better than Elaniel imagined.

Soon it was time for Bilbo's birthday speech and to pass around the cake. It was huge. Of course it would have to be to feed a party this big. Not only that, but to fit one hundred and eleven candles as well.

Bilbo stood atop one of the ale barrels and faced the crowd. His giant birthday cake was to the right of him. "My dear Bagginses and Boffins," he began. Cheers from the named relations went out as he called them. "Tooks and Brandybucks." Merry and Pippin let out a cheer to their names. "Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses and Proudfoots."

"Proudfeet!" Odo Proudfoot shouted. Many laughs went around at that one and Bilbo waved his hand in exaggeration.

"Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday!" Bilbo cried.

More applause sounded and shouts of happy birthday were called.

"I must tell you all how so fond I am of you," Bilbo continued. "The last eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits." More applause. "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

There was an awkward silence at those words as the hobbits pondered just how to take that statement. Elaniel looked at Gandalf at her left. They both shared an amused grin.

"Lastly," Bilbo continued. "I would like to announce...that this is the end. I'm going now. I bid you all a fond farewell."

There was a flash of light and Bilbo disappeared. There were collective gasps and murmurs all around from the Shirefolk. Elaniel looked to Gandalf. She felt the buzz of magic just as Bilbo disappeared.

"What just happened, Gandalf?" she asked.

"I'll tell you when I find out," the wizard answered, rising from his chair.

Frodo was left to attend to the guests. He didn't seem so surprised at Bilbo's disappearing act. But the relatives were a different matter. They muttered and grumbled and barked and stamped around. "All in poor taste" was the idea that hopped around. Elaniel stayed behind and helped Frodo smooth things over with everyone. Not that things were going to be smooth after that. But eventually the party died down and everybody headed home in...even spirits. It was the cake that did it. It was delicious. Elaniel even handed a slice to Merry and Pippin despite their mischief - though their slices were quite thinned.

Frodo and Elaniel found Gandalf at Bag End, but Bilbo wasn't there. He'd left just after doing his little vanishing act. So that was his plan. He left Bag End to Frodo and the magic ring he got from his adventures all those years ago.

Then Gandalf insisted on leaving, saying there were some questions that needed answering. No matter what Frodo and Elaniel said, there was no stopping him. Something was bothering him, Elaniel knew.

She followed him outside. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Gandalf looked at her, pondering his words. "I can't tell you until I'm sure and I am not right now. Don't worry about it. Stay here with Frodo and help him settle in. You'll be fine, right?"

Elaniel nodded, but she still didn't like how uneasy Gandalf seemed...only time would tell.

Elaniel left the Shire on foot a week later. Frodo was actually quite pleased to be the new master of the house, though the first few days he got quite a number of visitors wondering just what happened to Bilbo. He was no doubt going to be the gossip of Hobbiton for the next few weeks. Frodo would be fine. He was hardly one to be affected by gossip.

Frodo had escorted her to Eastfarthing, just where he met up with her and Gandalf not days before, and watched her leave. Instead of wearing a dress, Elaniel was in a dark tunic and trousers. Nor was the fire flower in her hair this time. It had begun to grow brittle just yesterday, but she and Frodo collected all the petals and stored them away. They made for a good spice to add to food as well as a good pain relief.

She regrettably made her way to Bree. It was a nuisance to go, but she needed information and a couple of supplies. Technically she shouldn't even be allowed in Bree. Some years ago, she'd started a bar fight in the Prancing Pony - she may have thrown the first punch, but the men there had bad manners and vile tongues - and the landlord, Barliman Butterbur, had thrown her and her two companions out of the inn and the town and were told to never return. Though Butterbur had the worst memory at the best of times and she could always avoid the inn altogether.

Still, Bree was hardly her favorite place and she covered herself with her cloak to hide her more feminine appearance. An inch shy of six feet, Elaniel was taller than most womenfolk, even if she was more slight and slender than a man. Her red hair was braided and tucked far beneath the hood of her cloak. With her blades strapped to her back and the right adopted manner, she could pass for a man even in the remaining light of the day.

She rapped on the closed door and waited for the Door Warden. Usually the door would remain open for another half hour until the sun was fully down under the horizon. The people who entered would still be checked by the warden, but in a more casual manner during the day than in the evening.

The Gatekeeper was the same grouch as always for whoever was unlucky enough to catch him on his night shift. The morning man was a bit more approachable, his face was more pleasant and his teeth were straighter as well. The little wooden flap at her eye level opened and his beady eyes took in her face and asked, "What do you want?"

"I am a weary traveler wishing to stay at the inn," she answered him. Not exactly true, but a soft bed did sound nice once she said that. Perhaps she could try her luck and see if she could sweep under the nose of Butterbur.

"Alright then." The door warden shut the flap and opened the door. He looked her up and down once again and this time asked, "Are you one of them Rangers?"

"I am," Elaniel told him. Not exactly true, but not a total lie either. Let him think what he wants. "Has Gandalf the Grey entered these parts as of late?" She knew the answer, he would've had to drop off the cart they borrowed here, but she wanted to know if anything else happened.

The door warden nodded. "He was here a few days ago to return the cart he borrowed. He looked a bit troubled though. Told me to close up the doors earlier in the day and watch for strange folk who happen to pass by. Perhaps the fear of the witches has finally gotten to him."

Elaniel kept her face nonchalant even though inside she was bristling at the warden's choice of words. She'd heard that word so many times that she should be used to it, but it just never happened. At least she controlled herself enough not to give the door warden a black eye for the way he spit out the insulting word.

She nodded her thanks and began toward the Prancing Pony. Witches. They were called Mages, and they were her people. Descended from one of the great Maiar, Elaranel, Elaniel and her people had magic in their blood unlike their fellow men. Elaranel was much like her fellow Maia, Arien, guardian of the sun, with her own magic showing itself as some sort of flame. But Elaranel was more docile in her craft than Arien and much more gentle in manner. Her descendants would inherit her flame as well, even thousands of years and many generations since her firstborn.

In their prime, Mages had been a great people of power and wisdom as well as great humility. But they were hardly a perfect people. The mightiest have ways of falling, and just like the great kings of Men, the Mages fell into some sort of disgrace as well. In small numbers, they began to turn on each other for want of power. It had been more of an occult group than a traitorous army, but evil had a way of growing over time. During the last decade of the previous Age, the traitors had grown into a number great and powerful enough to become a threat. But the Mages had dwindled their numbers down until they had to retreat into hiding.

But their time of hiding wasn't going to last forever, and within the next couple thousand years, the blood-traitors came again. It had been the most trying time for the Mages and they nearly lost everything. Even after recovery, the damage had been done and it seemed the Mages were no different from the blood traitors. Men don't have magic, the people would say. The witches care nothing for the troubles of others. They would see us fall just like the kingdoms of Arnor.

In her many travels, Elaniel had heard more of those ideas than she cared to remember, let alone count. She was lucky that, in the Shire, the hobbits knew nothing of the people she came from or their history. They didn't mind in the matters of the Big Folk. They tilled their lands, lived their days, and settled in a nice peace. Elaniel gave them no trouble, so they did not mind her, though in other parts of the world, she had to tread carefully. Even when traveling with Gandalf, his good graces only counted for the slightest of courtesies. Elaniel learned to endure it in her own way. It displeased Gandalf at times, but he was long passed trying to rid her of it. Though she didn't regret it in the slightest, starting a bar fight was admittedly not one of her best moments.

The Prancing Pony was warm and full of noise. Yes, a nice cooked meal that she didn't have to hunt, skin and prepare herself would be pleasant indeed. She approached the inn stand. She hoped luck would be on her side as Butterbur greeted her. "Good evening, young sir. What can I do for you?"

So far so good. "I'd like a room for the night and dinner," Elaniel answered, making sure to keep her voice low. Already people were passing around them. She was practically in Butterbur's face from being nudged forward by someone who wanted to pass by. Just don't let him recognize her.

"Of course, I'll ready one for you," Butterbur said. "And I'll get you a plate from the kitchen."

Perfect. Elaniel turned and made her way to an empty seat.

"Wait."

Elaniel stopped and held in a groan. She grit her teeth as Butterbur asked her to turn around. Slowly, she wheeled around and faced him. He looked simply curious at her, not at all like the anger he'd showed as he gripped her by the collar and escorted her the whole way to the gate. Please, just let her pass. He was starting to make a scene. A few of the occupants were watching them.

"May I see under your hood?" he asked.

Damn. Slowly, Elaniel pushed back her hood to reveal her red hair and more feminine features. From behind her, she heard someone shout, "Witch!"

The whole bar became silent as they all stared at her. With two blades and a bow and quiver on her back, that wasn't the best situation to be called a witch. She watched as Butterbur's eyes narrowed, though he didn't seem to recognize her from what she could see. Really? He forgets one thing, but remembers another? Of all the rotten luck.

She heard the light metal hum as someone unsheathed a dagger from somewhere behind her. It wouldn't do her any good to raise a weapon of her own, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to defend herself. She whipped around and grabbed the arm that held the dagger. It belonged to a greasy man whose teeth were already rotted yellow. She kicked his leg out from under him and didn't have time to watch him fall as another man came at her. Just as he landed on the ground with a broken nose, a loud bellow rang through the bar.

There was the fury she'd seen before on Butterbur's face, though he wasn't purple yet. He gave a hard glare to those in the room, daring them to move, and then looked hard at Elaniel. "I will have no violence in my establishment," he stated firmly, barely managing to keep his tone even. "And you will leave this town right now before you start any more trouble."

The barman made his way over to Elaniel and gripped her arm like a disobedient child, amusing since she was a couple inches taller him. She was hardly going to fight him. At least she was allowed to leave without a scratch...or spending a night in a cell. Much better than the last visit to Dale.

As they approached the gate, Butterbur hollered to the door warden. "What were you thinking letting a witch through the gates?"

The man startled out of his seat by the gate and stared at the two of them. He took in Elaniel's signifying red hair and features. "Wait, he's a she? I thought that was a sir. A Ranger too, he, I mean, she said."

Okay, fine. Anyone but her kin would find that a lie.

"Next time, check them more thoroughly!" Butterbur ordered as he opened the gate himself. "This is a warning. Don't come back!" He shoved her out the gate and slammed it behind her.

The whole time, Elaniel had simply followed him with a bored expression on her face. It was complete irony. The last time, Butterbur ignored her being there but kicked her out for causing a ruckus. Now he threw her out for being something people started a ruckus over. He didn't even remember just who she was. Again, rotten luck.

Fine, she didn't want to be there in the first place. She stormed off, but not without kicking the gate for good measure.