(summary cont.) these apples, but what no one, not even he, realizes is that these apples are from ordinary. My story can also be found at under the penname Gondors TRUE queen.

Frodo Baggins and his friends Samwise (Sam) Gamgee, Meriadoc (Merry) Brandybuck, and Peregrin (Pippin) Took were sitting together at a table in the Prancing Pony Inn in Bree, waiting for their wizard friend, Gandalf, who liked marshmallows. They sipped ale and watched the barman, Butterbur play Twister with some other men.

"Hmm…" said Merry thoughtfully. "I'll be right back."

And without any explanation whatsoever, Merry stood up and walked away. He returned a few minutes later with a larger, slightly overflowing mug of ale.

"What is that!" Pippin exclaimed.

"This, my friend," Merry grinned, "is a pint."

"It comes in pints?" asked Pippin curiously.

"It comes in not only pints, but quarts and gallons also."

"I'm getting one!" Pippin said, hurrying away.

An hour passed and Gandalf had still not shown up yet. As Frodo kept annoyingly reminding the others, Gandalf was supposed to have been at the inn before they even arrived.

"Maybe he fell in a hole," Sam shrugged. "You know how clumsy he is."

"Hey, uh, Frodo, that guy's staring at you," Merry said quietly, pointing over Frodo's shoulder.

"What?" Frodo said, turning around in his seat.

Sure enough, a man that was hooded and cloaked was sitting by himself in a corner, smoking a pipe and, as far as Frodo could tell, staring at him. He noticed that the smoke emitted from the pipe changed into different things with each puff: first ducks, then rabbits, then beavers. Frodo looked back at the others.

"Do you think I should say something to him?" he asked.

"Well, if you do, make sure it's kind, because not only is that guy about twice your height, but he also looks like he wants to murder someone," Sam said.

Frodo looked back over his shoulder; yes, the man was indeed still staring at him. Frodo nodded, then stood up and walked over to the man, stopping right in front of him. While the man was sitting in his chair, he was at about the same height as Frodo, but Frodo could tell that if the man stood up, he would tower over him.

"Er…hi," Frodo said cautiously. "I couldn't help notice you were staring at me."

The man said nothing, did nothing.

"Um, I was kind of wondering why…"

The man reached under his cloak and pulled out a purple bow tie. Then, he leaned forward and put the bow tie on Frodo.

"Uh…thank you!" Frodo said. "So, could you-"

He stopped talking, for a butterfly had just landed on his nose. He looked at it, cross-eyed, and the man snatched it from his nose in one swift movement. The man brought the butterfly under the shadow of his hood and, apparently, put the butterfly on his own nose.

"All right then," Frodo muttered. "I guess I'm going to go back to my table…"

He turned on the man and began to walk away. He decided that it might be a good idea to put the One Ring on his finger so that the man would, hopefully, stop his relentless staring. He stopped walking and slipped the ring over his finger. Immediately, he vanished on the spot. Frodo turned around to see how the man had reacted to his sudden disappearance, if he had reacted at all.

He had.

The man leapt from his chair and charged at Frodo at a sprint while drunk Butterbur shouted, "Hey, the little short guy learned how to Disapparate…oh, wait a minute………"

Perhaps it was the shock of having the man who had stared at him silently for the passed hour charging at him, but Frodo did not have time to prevent the man from pouncing on him. The man was lying on top of Frodo, who was quite uncomfortable as far as personal space went, and trying to wrestle the ring from his finger. Frodo struggled and slid the hand with the be-ringed finger up the back of his own shirt to make it more difficult. The man gave up with trying to take the ring from Frodo's finger after a moment, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him upstairs. He dragged Frodo into a large room with multiple beds and candles. Then, he locked the door and pinned Frodo to the floor with his foot, unsheathing a sword and pointing it at Frodo's chest.

"Take it off!" the man barked. "Now!"

Recognizing defeat, Frodo pulled the ring from his finger.

"There," the man said, putting away his sword. "Now was that so hard?"

"Who are you?" Frodo asked as the man began to walk towards one of the candles.

"My name is Strider. And please be more careful; that is no trinket you carry," he added as he stopped by the candle.

"I carry nothing!" Frodo denied.

"Indeed," the man called Strider said sarcastically. "What do you think I am, stupid? Ouch!" He had just tried to pinch the candle's flame out with two of his fingers and failed. He put them in his mouth, sucking on them for a moment, then tried again and succeeded. "Hee, hee, hee," he giggled.

"What do you want?" asked Frodo suspiciously.

"A little more caution from you," Strider answered, pinching out more candles. "Again, that is no trinket you carry. And," he added distractedly as he pinched out the last candle, "I would like you to come with me."

Strider walked over to where Frodo sat on the floor and crouched down so they were at eye level. Then, he lowered his hood. He had dark, somewhat unkempt hair, blue eyes, and dark stubble on his face. The butterfly was still perched on his nose and Frodo was surprised to see that the man was smiling.

"Why do you want me to come with you?" Frodo questioned. Strider had opened his mouth to respond, but they heard voices outside their door, then, an attempt to open it.

"It's locked!" said Pippin's voice.

"Oh, move over!" Sam snapped. "Alohomora!"

Sam, Merry, and Pippin burst through the door, wielding a picture frame, a measuring stick, and a rock, each brandishing their "weapon" at Strider.

"Let him go, or I'll have you, Longshanks!" Sam roared at Strider, who had been watching the hobbits, amused, until Sam said "Longshanks", then, he looked annoyed.

"Why does everyone call me that!" he said. "My name is Strider, I tell you! STRIDER!"

The hobbits all stared at him; Sam, Merry, and Pippin lowered their objects. Strider looked embarrassed, cleared his throat, locked the door again, and sat on one of the beds, indicating for the hobbits to do the same.

"You can no longer wait for the wizard," he sighed. "You hobbits will need to come with me."

"Why?" Merry asked.

"I'm sure Gandalf will explain when we meet him in Rivendell," Strider answered.

"Rivendell!" exclaimed Sam. "We're going to see the elves!" He gave a wild fan-girl scream and fainted, collapsing on his bed. Everyone stared across the room at him for a moment, then Strider continued to talk.

"Yes, anyways," he said, "I will be leading you to Rivendell where you will hopefully meet up with Gandalf. You will need my protection, for they will never stop hunting you."

"Who won't stop hunting us?" Pippin frowned. Then, an expression of utter horror appeared on his face. "Not-not the F.B.I.!"

"Noo…" Strider said slowly, eying Pippin suspiciously. "I am talking about the ring wraiths, the Nazgul, leaders of the I.L.S. Fan Club."

"What's that?" asked Frodo.

"The 'I Love Sauron Fan Club'. Now, here's the plan: we will sleep here tonight; I will keep watch. We will leave early tomorrow morning after a quick breakfast. From here we will make our way to Rivendell, and I hope we get there without any problems."

Strider took a green apple out from under his cloak, sank his teeth into it, and chewed noisily. Just then, a wild shriek from the Nazgul echoed deafeningly around them. Strider sprang off of his bed, the apple still in his mouth, and unsheathed his sword while Merry giggled, "Screechy, screechy! Hee, hee, hee!"