Chapter One: Crossed Paths
The rain was coming down in sheets in and around the little village of Bree. The sun had set not two hours earlier, and at the Inn of The Prancing Pony, Barliman Butterbur, the Innkeeper, stared suspiciously at the figure that entered his establishment. She had been in and out since late afternoon, sometimes simply standing in the doorway, but always watching. For who or what she was watching for Barliman did not know. All he knew was that she and the Ranger Strider had done the same night after night for the past two weeks.
Rangers. Barliman shook his head at the thought. Always so mysterious with those folk. "Mysterious and dangerous," as he warned all patrons who asked, and some who didn't. True enough they kept to themselves and didn't really bother anybody, and the nights they stayed at the inn were paid for well in advance, but that didn't mean Barliman trusted them any further than he could throw them.
With a welcoming smile on his fat red face, Barliman continued to serve his patrons, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the Ranger girl. With rainwater dripping off her dark green cloak she walked swiftly and silently to the back of the room where Strider sat thoughtfully puffing his pipe.
"There is not sign or sound of them in any direction," she told him in a hushed voice. "And Gandalf has yet to arrive as well." She sat down and wiped the water from out of her eyes. "Something has happened. I can feel it."
Strider turned his shadowed eyes to her. "If that is so, then it is more important than ever that we stay here and wait for them."
"But we should search the woods for them-"
"No, Halbyn, my friend," Strider cut her off, taking the pipe from his mouth. "Gandalf told them to go to Bree and meet him here and this is where they will come, no matter what trouble they've found. If we were to search for them and miss them, they might arrive here and be fooled into saying more than they should. The Dark Lord has spies even this far." He put his pipe back into his mouth and frowned. "No, here is where we must stay. If Gandalf does not come, it is my duty to lead the Ringbearer to Rivendell."
"I hope you know what you are doing," Halbyn sighed, then went again to look outside.
"So do I," Strider nodded, his grey eyes refusing to show his worry. "So do I."
The door to the inn swung open and both Rangers looked up to behold four half-grown little men enter and walk to the bar. Halbyn held her breath and Strider leaned forward, both with their attention intently fixed on the Hobbits, especially the tallest as he approached Barliman Butterbur and began to speak. They watched his lips carefully.
"Underhill?" Halbyn was unsure of the name.
"An alias," Strider assured her. "The name Baggins would be unwise to use outside the Shire. Look, he speaks of Gandalf." Both sat back and Halbyn looked at Strider. "I will watch him for a while to be sure," he said. "If it is indeed them, they will not be alone. I have heard foul screams in the night, and if what I sense is true, then the Nine have left Minas Morgul and they may be close. Keep watch." Halbyn nodded, then drew her hood low over her eyes and went outside.
Strider puffed deeply on his pipe, never taking his eyes off the Halfling. He watched as the four of them sat at the small Hobbit-sized table and drank their ale while stealing glances in his direction as they felt his eyes on them. He watched as they asked the Innkeeper for his name and as The Pony's patrons urged for a song of the Shire. And he watched as the so-called Mr. Underhill fell off the table as he sang and vanished from sight.
Strider sprang to his feet among the startled commotion of the patrons around him. The Halfling was indeed Frodo Baggins, the Ringbearer, as he had guessed. He had to find him before any spies of Mordor did.
Scanning the room with his keen eyes, Strider saw the Hobbit crawl out from under a nearby table. To those who had not been paying close attention it would seem that Frodo had crawled under the table after his fall to escape being trampled in the excitement. Most of the people seemed ready to accept this explanation and calmed down, but Strider was not so easily fooled. The Ranger swiftly made his way to where the Hobbit was getting to his feet and grabbed his shoulder. The Halfling gasped.
"You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mister Underhill," said Strider in a hushed voice and then threw Frodo in the direction of the stairs.
Samwise Gamgee and Meriadoc Brandybuck stared wide-eyed at each other, not entirely believing what they had just witnessed: Frodo had disappeared before their eyes - mid-song and without warning. They tried to find words to speak, but neither knew what to say.
"What is going on?" Peregrin Took - Pippin to his friends - demanded as he approached the table where Sam and his cousin sat. "Where's Frodo?"
"There!" Sam suddenly snapped back into reality as he saw his Master being dragged up the stairs by the man Barliman had called the dangerous Ranger Strider.
"Where's he taking Frodo?" Merry jumped to his feet.
"Not anywhere friendly by my reckoning," Pippin said.
"I don't care if it's to a banquet fit for all the Shire," Sam growled. "Won't nobody be taking Mister Frodo anywhere without Samwise Gamgee to have something to say about it!"
With that, Sam clenched his small fists and flew across the room as fast as his short legs could carry him. Merry and Pippin were close on his heels after arming themselves with whatever was handy: a candle stand and a bar stool. The three Hobbits pushed themselves past the clusters of patrons and ran into old Barliman as he collected empty glasses. Sam demanded to know which room that Strider was in and Barliman was too startled to decline. They flew up the stairs to a room at the end of the hall and Sam threw the door open and held up his fists, ready to take on anything the Ranger would throw at him.
"Let him go or I'll have you, Longshanks!" he demanded with a determined gleam in his eye, though he was looking up the blade of the Ranger's sharp sword.
Strider's hard face softened and he sheathed his weapon. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that will not save you." Sam, Merry and Pippin, still untrusting, held their ground as Strider turned back to where Frodo stood, unharmed. "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo," he said sternly. "They're coming."
"Who's coming?" Frodo asked, visibly frightened.
Strider studied him for a moment. "Your eyes tell me that you already know who hunts you. And if that is so, then you know enough for the time being." He went to the window and looked out. "The four of you must stay here tonight. Your room is no longer safe."
"We aren't staying with you one more minute unless you tell us who you are and why we should trust you," Merry stuck out his chin in defiance.
"And how do you know so much about Mister Frodo?" said Sam.
"You may call me Strider, as the Innkeeper told you, for it suits me at the moment. I am a Ranger of the North and a friend of Gandalf the Grey," Strider explained as patiently as he could manage. "And I am here to protect you from those who would do you harm, as Gandalf hoped I would should he be unable to be here himself." Merry huffed and Sam scowled, both unable to think of an argument to counter the Ranger's word.
"Where is Gandalf then?" Frodo asked.
Strider sighed. "That I do not know, Frodo, but I do know where he intended to take you. If indeed he has simply been delayed, then he will mean to meet us there."
"Where is there?" inquired Pippin.
"You will find out soon enough, but for now you must all sleep," Strider told him. "We have a long journey ahead of us and you will need your strength."
Before they could rest, however, Strider took them down to their room and they quickly stuffed their little Hobbit beds up with pillows and blankets until it looked that four Halflings were curled asleep inside. They then returned to Strider's room. Strider sat by the window, watching carefully for any sign of danger. The bed was more than large enough for all four Hobbits to sleep comfortably side by side, and Merry, Pippin and Sam, though still untrusting as they were, were asleep in minutes. Frodo, however, was uneasy and unable to sleep. He could feel the Ring in his pocket and it seemed to him that it was growing heavier with every passing minute and it troubled him greatly. He sat on the bed watching Strider quietly.
Strider peered through the rain, keeping his eyes on the rooftop of the gatehouse down and across the street. There Halbyn crouched, cloak drawn tightly around her, hidden by the darkness from untrained eyes. She straightened and slowly stepped forward with her attention fully fixed outside the town wall. She drew her hands to her mouth and gave out a whistling bird-call, then slid out of sight. Not too long after the sound of enraged screams could be heard from the Hobbits' room as the Servants of Sauron realized they had been fooled.
Sam, Merry and Pippin awoke with a start, but Frodo did not move, his bright eyes still fixed on the Ranger. The screams came again and Frodo could wait no longer. "What are they?" he asked.
Strider turned to face him. "They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. And then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling to Darkness. Now they are slaves to His will. They are the Nazgûl - Ringwraiths - neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One.
"They will never stop hunting you," said Strider gravely, rising from his seat then going to Frodo and clapping his shoulders. "And that is why you must trust me to protect you from their evil." Frodo gazed uncertainly at him and Strider returned to his seat. "They have been foiled and will not return tonight, but they are far from being finished. Take your sleep while you can." And uneasy as they were, all four Hobbits could no longer fight the sleep from overtaking them.
Pippin was roused out of his sleep by the sound of hushed voices. His dreams had been tormented again by the horrible dry creaking laugh of Old Man Willow; the same dream that had come to him in the house of Tom Bombadil. This time there were no comforting words to lull him back to a peaceful sleep, and he was rather grateful to the voices for aiding his escape from the accursed nightmare.
He sat up quietly so as not to disturb Merry beside him, and, perched on the edge of the bed, listened to the voices in the doorway of the room. One was Strider's and the other was one Pippin did not recognize. The young Took's curiosity gnawed at his better judgment until it finally got the best of him and he slid off the bed and crept closer to hear the conversation.
Pippin crouched behind a large wooden trunk that sat next to the door. Now he could see to whom Strider was speaking. She was tall, though certainly not as tall as Strider or Gandalf, and Pippin guessed that his judgment perhaps wasn't terribly reliable since all of the race of Men were tall to him. Her dark green hood was drawn up and Pippin could not see her face, but something about her voice intrigued him. She spoke in a whisper and for one reason or another he couldn't help but strain his ears to listen.
"They've left the town," she was saying. "The Halflings are safe for now."
"No," Strider shook his head. "They will never be truly safe. Even Rivendell will not be sanctuary for much longer. The Dark Lord grows stronger as we speak."
"Tell me what I must do," she said.
Strider thought for a moment. "Ride on ahead to Rivendell. Give word to Lord Elrond that the Ringbearer is under my protection, and see if there has been any word from Gandalf. The Nine should not bother you, but ride hard nevertheless."
"What about you? They'll be watching the road, and you have no horses," she argued.
"I will lead them into the Wild," Strider said. "It will not be easy to track a Ranger and four light-footed Hobbits off the road. But this is why you must get word to Rivendell - we will need all the help we can get if we hope to survive this journey."
She pulled her hood back and Pippin held his breath, gazing at her in utter fascination. Her long dark hair was pulled back and braided, and on either side of her face hung two thin braids. Her pale grey eyes sought any unspoken reassurance Strider's eyes would give her. Pippin studied her eyes carefully, sensing both strength and compassion mirrored there. If he had one wish at that moment it would be to look into those eyes and have her tell him her name.
"I understand," she nodded and embraced the Ranger. "Until Rivendell, my friend."
"Be safe," Strider said. "And give my tidings to the Lady of Rivendell." Both of them clapped their right hand to their breast and then the girl was gone. Strider closed the door and stepped back before speaking. "Have you heard enough to satisfy your curiosity, Master Took?"
Pippin stepped out from the shadows with a sheepish look on his face. "You knew I was there?"
"There is not much in this world that escapes a Ranger's senses," said Strider. "She knew as well."
"Is she a Ranger then?" Pippin asked, his embarrassment gone and his curiosity returning. Strider nodded. "What an odd riddle this is. Old Merry has come to Bree many-a-time, and sometimes I've come along as well and never have I heard tale of a Lady Ranger before. What is her name?"
Strider's features softened and he smiled kindly. "Should she and you be fated to cross paths again, I will leave her name as part of her tale to tell. Know only that she is a dear friend and I trust her with my life. That is enough for now. Think of her fondly as you dream, Pippin, and ever sweeter will it be when you set eyes on her again." And Pippin returned to the bed with visions of pale grey eyes in his mind.
Strider woke the Hobbits again at the first light of dawn and after bargaining for a pack pony from a shady sort of character, they left Bree. The Ranger had scouted ahead for a-ways, and now cautiously led them into the forest. Merry walked beside Frodo, noting carefully that they were not taking a beaten path and said so to his cousin.
"Where are you taking us?" Frodo called up to Strider.
"Into the Wild," the Ranger called back without turning around and continued to seek his own trail through the trees and brush.
Merry looked back at Sam who was leading the pony and with him exchanged a cautious look. "How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" he asked Frodo.
"We have no choice but to trust him," Frodo replied, knowing that his response would not please his Brandybuck cousin.
Merry huffed and Sam remained unsatisfied. He did not like the looks of that Strider as he led them into the unknown wilderness where nobody might ever find them again. And Pippin's question at The Prancing Pony remained unanswered: where is the there they'd set off to? "But where's he leading us?" he called up to Frodo, hoping his Master would have an answer.
Strider had been listening and decided that there was no harm in revealing their destination. If nothing else, perhaps it would gain a little of their trust. "To Rivendell, Master Gamgee," he said. "To the House of Elrond."
"Rivendell?" Sam's eyes twinkled with excitement. "Did you hear that? We're going to see the Elves!" Frodo and Merry were deep in discussion and did not respond, so Sam turned to Pippin who was bringing up the rear with a far-away look in his eyes. "Pippin, did you hear?" said Sam but Pippin did not hear him. "Pippin!"
The young Took jumped. "Steady on, Sam! There's no need to shout at me!"
"You've been walking around with your head in the clouds all morning and no mistaking that," said Sam with his hand on his hip. "I'd reckon you've been scheming up a way to nick my share of breakfast when I sleep, haven't you?"
Now Pippin couldn't deny that this would be a delightful joke to play on Sam, but in truth his thoughts dwelled on a vision of a much different sort - the Lady Ranger, already to whom his curiosity and affection belonged. He guessed that hours before she had taken the very same road they'd just been on, and wondered now where she might be.
Pippin looked at Sam who still awaited an answer. "Well we certainly think a lot of ourselves don't we, Mister Gamgee?" he mocked Sam's accusation. "But I have much better things to bother my little head about than your breakfast, now off with you!"
"Now see here-" Sam was about ready to give Pippin a piece of his mind for that bit of cheek but he was interrupted.
"Sam! Pippin!" It was Frodo. During their exchange Sam and Pippin had stopped walking, and the others realized they were missing and doubled back. "Do not fall behind," said Frodo, and Strider cast a disapproving look at them.
"Pardon me, Mister Frodo," Sam looked sheepish and walked on ahead with his Master. Pippin's eyes twinkled mischievously and he scampered up to where Merry stood.
"Blockhead," said Merry though he was smiling. "You could have been lost, though I don't suppose we'll be much better off once this Strider's done leading us halfway around the entire forest."
"Oh Merry!" Pippin laughed. "What a tale I have to tell you, though something tells me it isn't finished yet."
"Have you now?" Merry asked. "Well come on then, Pippin, don't keep your dear cousin waiting. What's this tale to do with?"
"A Lady," said Pippin. "One as beautiful as all the stars in the sky and fair as the moon as it shines on the Brandywine back home."
"Well I say," Merry breathed. "I certainly hope this Lady was not a dream of yours, Pip, or I should be terribly disappointed indeed."
"A dream she seemed indeed, Merry, but it was real as the trees around us," Pippin continued. "I saw her last night as the moonlight shone through the windows of the inn."
"Now I know it must have been a dream," Merry sighed.
"No I swear by it!" Pippin shook his head. "She is a Ranger friend of Strider's and I woke and heard them speaking in the doorway."
"A Lady Ranger?" Merry scoffed. "Your tales are wild as ever, my dear cousin."
"If you saw her would you believe me?" asked Pippin.
"I would," said Merry.
"Then you shall. For I feel it in my heart that I shall see her again and have the honour to learn her name, as Strider promised," Pippin was smiling.
"You dreamed up this tale very quickly indeed if you did not even name your Lady," Merry laughed.
"You will see," Pippin replied. "You will see."