I know, I know, I said I was going to get all of my old stuff done first before I started posting new material, but I wanted to try something new. And since I'm down to two incomplete projects instead of fie, I figured that this would be a good time. That and I've been hyping this on my profile page and a few author's notes in other stories.

I decided to do a teen in Middle Earth story with a little bit of a twist after I sat down examined the Fellowship. I noticed that all of the members may have seen hard times, but at some point in their lives they wanted for nothing. Gandalf is friends and loved by many and if he wasn't so much of a wanderer, he would be able to live in a palace. Aragorn was raised in Rivendell; Boromir is the son of the Steward of Gondor; Legolas is a prince; the Baggins were wealthy and Bilbo passed it on to Bilbo; Pippin's a Took, related to Old Took; Merry is a Brandybuck, a well-known family; and Sam, though a gardener, would have been well paid. Sam would be more middle working class, but none of the Fellowship were ever dirt poor.

And since someone from the 21st century falling into Middle Earth can be a bit interesting, I thought "What the hay? Let's do it." Some of my favorite LOTR stories were GiME fics. Now for the warnings: this story is going to heavily rely on the movies and the script. Also 10th Walker and OC.

Speaking of OC, allow me to say something about him. His accent: Yes, I wrote it phonetically and I may not have gotten it spot on. I'm not trying to insult anyone, so I'm sorry ahead of time if it's a bit hard to read, but you got to remember that the people of Middle Earth have a hard time understanding him as well.

I do not own Lord of the Rings, but the OC is mine. Please review at the end of the chapter and let me know what you think.

Gandalf sat shivering on top of the Orthanc. Thankfully the rain had stopped, but the Grey Wizard was drenched to the skin. The wind only made him colder and it appeared that there would be no source of heat until the sun rose in the morning. Saruman had hoped that it would loosen Gandalf's tongue about the Ring. However, Gandalf was refusing to tell.

Saruman's betrayal had been unexpected. The White Wizard had been the wisest and most powerful of the Istari, but he had forgotten their purpose in Middle Earth. He wanted power, to rule, and was siding with Sauron for it.

Saruman appeared, holding a squirming figure. It was a boy! Not very young, but clearly still young enough to be at home with his mother. Saruman had a vicelike grip on the boy's neck, keeping him from going anywhere.

"I thought you would need some persuasion, old friend," Saruman said. He let go of the boy and swung his staff.

The boy let out a yell as he was pushed to the edge of the roof by Saruman's magic. The magic had also bound him so he couldn't move.

"I think a trade is in order," Saruman continued. "The Ring's location for the boy's life."

Gandalf looked at the boy perched precariously on the edge of the roof. His pale face was bruised, but his eyes were defiant.

"Well?" Saruman prompted.

"Don't tell 'im nuthin'!" the boy shouted at Gandalf.

"Silence!" Saruman barked.

The boy's mouth snapped shut, but he grumbled through the magical gag.

Saruman turned back to Gandalf. "You were never one to let the innocent perish. You can save one here and now."

Gandalf looked at the boy. The boy shook his head. Gandalf looked back at Saruman.

Saruman snarled. "Fine."

There was a final push to the boy and he slipped off the edge. A yelp told Gandalf that Saruman had released him from his magical bounds.

"His death is on your hands," Saruman told Gandalf loudly. "If the life of another will not loosen your tongue, perhaps your own life will."

Saruman whipped his staff around, sending Gandalf sliding across the roof. He continued to use his magic to throw Gandalf around like a rag doll.

"A friendship with Saruman is not lightly thrown aside," gloated the White Wizard. He held Gandalf over the side of the tower. "One ill turn deserves another."

A moth fluttered over Gandalf's face.

"Embrace the power of the Ring or embrace your own destruction." Saruman pulled Gandalf up and forced him face down on the ground with a wave of his staff.

"There is only one Lord of the Ring," Gandalf said, looking up. Blood was running down a cut on his forehead.

From behind Saruman, where the boy had been pushed off, someone was pulling themselves up from the edge. Gandalf saw that the boy had managed to grab something on the way down and was now pulling himself up. The boy pulled himself up over the side and Gandalf returned his attention to Saruman.

"Only one who can bend it to his will. And he does not share power."

Saruman lifted his staff to finish off Gandalf.

The boy let out a yell and tackled Saruman from behind. At the same time, an eagle cried out. Gandalf got to his feet and grabbed the boy by the arm.

"Come on!" he yelled and they both jumped.

They fell before landing on the back of a giant eagle and were flown away from Isengard.

Gandalf had the boy tucked under him to keep him steady on the back of the eagle. This was his first good look at him. He had clothes that were made very well, but were dirty and worn to the point they were falling apart. The loose-fitting pants were made of a heavy material, but were stained so badly it was impossible to tell what color they originally were. The thick oversized tunic with a hood appeared to be black. On his head was a knitted hat with a black cloth tied around underneath.

"Dat's up ahn my tahp ten list of da craziest shit I've done," the boy said. His accent was strange and Gandalf was having difficulty understanding him.

"Are you hurt?" Gandalf asked.

"I'm fine. You?"

Gandalf wiped at the blood on his forehead. "I will heal."

The boy nodded and pulled something onto his face from around his neck.

Gandalf saw the boy was wearing dark grey fingerless gloves. He wasn't sure what the boy had pulled onto his face. Two pieces of oval glass came over his eyes and were held in place by a leather strap around his head. The glass was a little dirty, but apparently the boy could see out.

"Dat's bettah."

Gandalf noticed he was wearing another one around his neck. He also noticed the boy had a pack. The pack was dark and had patches of silver.

They continued over the mountains until the sun rose, not saying anything.

"I never asked your name," Gandalf said. "My name is Gandalf the Grey."

The boy looked over his shoulder with a smirk. "Can't imagine why. Mine's Ricky. Ricky Weiss."

"I must say, Master Weiss, I have not seen clothes like yours," Gandalf commented. "Where are you from?"

"New York," Ricky replied.

Gandalf frowned. "I do not believe I have ever heard of New York. I have traveled Middle Earth for many years and I have never heard a town by that name."

Ricky snorted. "New York's naht a town, it's a city. And Saruman didn't know, eitha."

Gandalf was very puzzled by the boy's accent. He was dropping certain R's, but heavily stressing others, like in Saruman's name, and barely pronouncing the rest of them. Also the TH sound came out sounding like a soft D sound. The rest of the accent sounded whiny. It was an accent that Gandalf had never heard before. Clearly the boy was from some far away land.

There was more silence.

"Way we goin'?" Ricky asked.

"To meet with some friends," said Gandalf. "I was supposed to meet with them days ago."

The eagle flew over one more mountain and it opened into a valley. There were buildings built into the mountains surrounding it. Many waterfalls flowed down into a single river at the bottom of the valley. The buildings were elegant, arches and columns reaching and branching like trees and water.

Gandalf watched Ricky's expression morph into something of awe. It was clear he had never seen anything like Rivendell before.

"Don't see nuthin' like dat in New York," Ricky said.

Gandalf chuckled. "Rivendell, the Last Homely Home East of the Sea. They are expecting me, but they will not turn away one in need."

The eagle landed and several Elves came out.

Gandalf and Ricky climbed down from the eagle.

"Mithrandir," an Elf called to them. He had long brown hair held back with a silver circlet and dark colored robes.

"Lindir," Gandalf answered him.

"We have been expecting you," said Lindir.

"I must speak to Lord Elrond," Gandalf told him urgently.

"You will see him immediately," Lindir informed with a nod. He turned to Ricky. "And who is your companion?"

Gandalf reached around and motioned to Ricky. "This is Ricky Weiss. He was being held as a prisoner. He aided me in my time of need and I thought I should return the favor." Gandalf went to put a hand on Ricky's shoulder, but saw him flinch. He lowered his hand. "I believe he could use some clean clothes and a good meal."

"A bath will be arranged as well," Lindir added, looking down at Ricky. "Come, Master Weiss."

Ricky glanced at Gandalf and followed Lindir.

The sun was steadily rising as they walked the open hallways to the guest chambers.

"These will be your chambers while you reside here," Lindir announced, stopping in front of one of the doors. He turned and saw Ricky had changed his strange eye covering along the way. The darkened glass was nearly impossible for Lindir to see through to Ricky's eyes and the Elf wondered how Ricky could see through them.

"M'eyes hoit," Ricky explained. "Not used t' bein' out in da daylight."

Lindir could see understanding the boy would be a challenge. He was speaking Common Tongue, but the accent was foreign to him. It was almost another language.

"I will bring you clean clothes and take your clothes to be cleaned," Lindir said. "There is a bathing chamber in your rooms. You can leave your clothes outside of the door and I will leave you your clean clothes."

"T'anks," Ricky said softly.

Lindir gave a small bow and left the room.

The boy was going to cause quite the stir around Rivendell. Lindir decided that in order to learn as much as he could about the boy, he would need to act as a simple servant. The interaction would give him the chance to get to know the boy and be able to report to Lord Elrond about him.

A short time later, Lindir returned. He knocked on the chambers' door and received no answer. Assuming that the boy was in the bath, Lindir let himself in and went to the bathing chamber door. There were no clothes left outside on the floor.

Lindir knocked on the door. "Master Weiss, I am here to take your clothes. I have a set of fresh clothes for you."

Ricky opened the door. He had one large towel wrapped around his waist and another large towel draped over his head, the long ends hanging across his chest and to his waist.

Lindir could see how thin Ricky was. The boy didn't have an ounce of fat on him. His hands, arms, and legs were covered in marks and bruises, most of them healing, but there was a nasty bruise on his left shin. Green eyes had dark circles around them, but those could have been bruises and not caused by lack of sleep. The bruise on his face from earlier had come out and was an ugly shade of purple against his pale skin.

Ricky was squinting in the light.

Lindir held out the clean clothes. "I brought you clean clothes for you."

Ricky took the clothes and kicked his soiled ones out the door. "T'anks." He closed the door.

Lindir picked up the pile of dirty clothes and held them again from him. They were disgusting! The boy must have been around Orcs at some point for his clothes to be so filthy.

Lindir winced. The boy had come with Gandalf. Perhaps had been taken from his village by Orcs. But for what purpose? Orcs usually killed and didn't take prisoners unless it was for their entertainment. Lindir shuddered at the thought. Young Ricky was very fortunate if that happened.

After taking Ricky's clothes to the laundry, Lindir went to report to Lord Elrond.

The Elf lord was in his study speaking to Gandalf.

"My lord," Lindir said from the doorway.

"What is it?" asked Elrond. Now was not the time to be interrupted.

"It is about the boy who came with Gandalf," Lindir replied.

"Ricky? What has happened?" asked Gandalf.

"I saw him as he was coming out of the bath. His body is covered in strange marks and bruises," Lindir reported. "He is naught but skin and bones. The boy is in need of healing, my lord. I thought you and Mithrandir should know."

"I will see to him shortly," said Elrond. "Thank you, Lindir."

Lindir bowed his head and left.

Elrond turned to Gandalf. "Do you know how long he was held by Saruman?"

"No," replied Gandalf. "Saruman brought him up with him in his final attempt to learn the Ring's location. Ricky was still fighting, so I believe it was not for long. He would be in worse condition if the Orcs had their way."

"Do you think he can tell us Saruman's plans?"

Gandalf thought about it for a moment. "Ricky may have overheard something."

"Hopefully it will be something to help us," said Elrond.

Gandalf agreed. "I believe it is time for breakfast. Perhaps we should wait until the boy has been properly fed before we begin questioning him."

"I agree," said Elrond. "If he is as thin as Lindir says, food may loosen his tongue."

"You don't believe that Ricky is a spy, do you?" Gandalf asked.

"I did not believe that Saruman would betray us," Elrond countered. "These are dangerous times; we must be suspicious of everyone."

"Are you suspicious of me?" Gandalf asked Elrond.

"I am always suspicious of you, my friend," Elrond replied with a small smirk. "I have known you long enough to know you try to do the best for Middle Earth, though not everyone agrees with your methods. Many would call it meddling."

Gandalf chuckled.

They went their separate ways before they would meet again at the breakfast table. Elrond thought it best to see to the boy. After gathering the necessary supplies to treat wounds, the Elf lord went to Ricky's room.

He knocked on the door and on the other side he heard, "Whadiya gotta do t' get some peace around hea?"

Elrond felt a slightly guilty. The boy was probably trying to sleep.

Ricky opened the door and jumped back, startled. "Whoa, crap!" he breathed. He started to withdraw into the room, intimidated by the Elf's appearance, but stopped and held his ground once he realized he was pulling back.

Elrond had to commend Ricky. Elves were beautiful in face and form and some Men would stare in awe of them. Others were intimidated by Elves, sensing that they were capable of great things, fearing their power. Ricky fell into the latter category, yet was summoning the courage to face Elrond.

Ricky had changed into the clothes that had been provided for him. He wore a light blue tunic and grey trousers. Both articles of clothing were too large for him and hung off his small frame. The belt that was loaned to him was on the last notch and was still a little loose. However, the boy still wore his knit hat and little headscarf, but both looked to be clean though a bit damp. A few short dark hairs stuck out from underneath on his brow. The eye covering he was wearing had the tinted glass. The mix of foreign and Elvish clothing looked very odd.

Elrond smiled at Ricky. "Welcome to Rivendell, Master Weiss. I am Lord Elrond."

"Hello," Ricky whispered.

Elrond looked at the boy's bruised face. "I brought a cream to help aid the healing process. Would you like to use some?"

Ricky nodded. He pulled down his eye covering. "I can do it myself," he said.

Elrond handing him the jar and Ricky applied a layer to his bruise.

"It is time for the morning meal," Elrond informed him. "You may join me if you wish."

"Okay," Ricky said quietly.

Elrond put his hand out to Ricky. "Come."

Ricky flinched away from the hand.

Elrond's smile didn't falter, but he was concerned about why a simple gesture would elicit such a reaction. Perhaps the boy was told stories of Elves meant to scare him. Elrond allowed the boy to follow a step behind him. As they walked to the dining room, Elrond would glance over his shoulder to see if Ricky was following. The boy was following, but he was just out of reach if Elrond should turn and grab him.

There were two other Elves already in the dining area sitting down to eat. They were identical with their long dark hair, grey eyes, and matching blue tunics and grey pants. They were clearly related to Elrond with their similar facial features. There was also an aura of youth around them that wasn't around Elrond, making them appear younger.

Elrond addressed them. "Elladan. Elrohir."

The twins turned in their chairs.

"We have a guest," said Elrond, motioning to Ricky. "This is Ricky Weiss. He arrived with Mithrandir. Master Weiss, these are my sons, Elladan and Elrohir."

"Welcome," the twins said in unison.

"Hey," Ricky said quietly.

Elrond pointed out what seat Ricky was to sit in. Breakfast started out quietly. Ricky nibbled at the food he put on his plate and sipped at the water in his cup.

"We heard Lindir talking about him," Elladan said to Elrond. "He said the boy speaks in an odd dialect."

"He has said very little to me, Elladan," Elrond said. "And it is rude to say such things. You know this. Mithrandir has said something similar as well. He says he is from distant land."

Gandalf joined them a few minutes later. "Ah, Ricky, you look much better."

Ricky glanced up from his food and continued eating.

"Perhaps you would like to tell me how you came to be a prisoner of Saruman," said Gandalf.

Ricky put down the boiled egg he had bitten into. "Dunno how much I'll be able t' tell you."

"Start at the beginning," Gandalf told Ricky.

Ricky nodded. "Woke up in da woods afta I got jumped in da tunnels. It happens when you piss awf da wrong people – da gettin' jumped part. I don't rememba bein' dat scared've bein' in da woods. I've been in Central Park at night befo', but bein' out dere in da middle of da day, dat scared da hell outta me. Only took me a few minutes t' haul ass outta dat place. Saruman found me an ow-wah laydah."

"Fangorn Forest is an ancient forest," said Elrond. "It is alive and full of memory."

"I just know dat I wanted t' get da hell outta dere," Ricky said again.

"What happened when Saruman found you?" Gandalf asked.

"Basically da same t'ing dat's happenin' now," said Ricky, eyes shifting under the tinted glass. "Gave me somethin' t' eat, wanted t' know way I was from. I only told him I was from New York. Somethin' 'bout him made me t'ink twice 'bout answoi'in' his questions. He got pissed when I shaddup. Tried t' scare me into tellin' him what he wanted t' know. Next t'ing I know, I'm up ahn da roof. You know da rest, Gandalf."

Ricky went back to his boiled egg.

"What about this 'New York'?" asked Gandalf. "What can you tell us about your home?"

Ricky swallowed his food. "Completely diffoirent tan dis. Elves, magic, an' giant eagles don't exist."

After several seconds of silence from Ricky after he went back to his food, it was clear he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject.

"Perhaps you are from another world, young Ricky," Gandalf suggested.

Ricky rolled his eyes behind his goggles. "Ya couldn't tell?" he asked sarcastically.

"There must be a reason you were brought to us," Gandalf continued.

Ricky snorted. "Wonda what dat could be."

They ignored Ricky's comment and instead took notice to how he was holding himself.

"There is no need to be frightened, Master Weiss," Elrond assured. "We will help you."

"Not sca'ed – cold," Ricky said quietly.

"Little wonder," Elrohir commented. "He is skin and bone."

"Elrohir," Elrond scolded gently. He turned to Ricky. "We will find you something warmer."

Ricky just gave a shake of his head. "Just gimme back my clothes. I'm wah'm enough wit' dose."

Elrond gave a nod. "Elladan and Elrohir will show you around Rivendell when you are finished with breakfast."

Ricky quickly chugged down the last of his water. The boy wanted to get away from the table as quick as possible. He didn't want a repeat of what happened with Saruman.

"You do not have to rush," Elladan chuckled lightly.

Elohir smiled. "He certainly wants to see Rivendell."

Elladan, Elrohir, and Ricky left the table. Once again, Ricky followed so he wouldn't be easily touched.

Elrond and Gandalf remained at the table.

"The boy is troubled greatly," said Elrond.

"He has been taken from his world and put into one he knows nothing about," said Gandalf. "You cannot fault him for that."

"I do not," said Elrond. "I have noticed he shies away from simple touches. His speech and what little he has told us about where he lives suggests he is of low class."

"He needs healing," said Gandalf.

"And Rivendell will give it to him," Elrond added.

Elladan and Elrohir showed Ricky around Rivendell. Their favorite place was the training grounds. And they were not the only ones at the training grounds that morning.

"Lord Glorfindel!" the twins called.

The tall golden haired Elf turned to the twins and their charge. "Good morning. And who is this?"

"This is Ricky Weiss," said Elrohir. "He arrived with Mithrandir this morning."

"Ricky," repeated Glorfindel. "The name sounds dwarfish."

"He is no Dwarf," said Elladan. "Not with that little nose."

Glorfindel looked down at Ricky smiled. "My name is Glorfindel, little one. If you came with Gandalf, you certainly had quite the journey."

"Saruman has betrayed us," Elladan told Glorfindel. "He captured Mithrandir and later Ricky."

"Why would Saruman want this boy?" Glorfindel asked.

"Mithrandir says the boy is from another world," said Elrohir.

"And by his speech, it is possible," said Elladan.

Glorfindel smiled down at Ricky. "Do you know how to shoot a bow, Master Ricky?"

"No," Ricky replied.

"Would you like to learn?"

Ricky hesitated. "Okay."

It was a challenge finding a bow for Ricky to use. He was mortal and very skinny and it was difficult finding a bow calibrated to someone with Ricky's strength. All three Elves were aware how Ricky flinched when they physically corrected his stance. He didn't say anything aside from asking if he was doing it correctly.

"You are doing very well," said Glorfindel.

"I suck," Ricky said, looking at all the arrows that hadn't made the target. "Naht even close."

"We did not expect you to make the target on the first try," said Elladan.

"If you took off your eye covering, you may be able to aim better," Elrohir suggested.

"If I take dem awf, I won't be able t' see," said Ricky.

"Then how do you see to defend yourself?" asked Elrohir.

"Can see fine wit' dem. I can take ca'e of myself. Usually could outrun da basta'ds anyway."

"You must be very quick on your feet," said Glorfindel.

"It ain't aw'ways about speed," said Ricky. "Half dose guys can't see dat well in da tunnels. All I had t' do was get dem in da dah'k. I'd lose dem or I'd fight. I ain't bad wit' a straight rayza. You'd be surprised what you can do wit' somethin' so smaw."

"We can train you," said Elladan.

"I know how t' fight," Ricky insisted.

"You know how to run away," Elrohir said.

"Da hell!" snapped Ricky.

Glorfindel quickly stopped a fight from happening. "I propose a sparring match. It will give us an idea of Ricky's abilities. Ricky, would you rather spar with Elladan or Elrohir?"

Ricky's reply was a yell as he launched himself at Elrohir. It only took a few moments for Elrohir to pin Ricky.

"That was dishonorable," Elrohir said.

"Who da hell ca'es 'bout awna?" Ricky scoffed. "It's nevah done anybody any good." He struggled to get Elrohir off him.

"Is that what you truly believe?" asked Elladan.

Elrohir allowed Ricky to sit up. The Elf was surprised that the boy was able to leave a bruise on his brow.

"Da last time I saw someone doin' da 'awnarable' t'ing, he got stabbed wit' an icepick," Ricky said. Quietly he added, "It wasn't a fast way t' die."

Elrohir got to his feet and held his hand out to Ricky.

Ricky only looked at the hand before getting to his feet and straightening his clothes.

"You can trust us," said Glorfindel. "We mean you no harm."

Ricky huffed. "Da last time someone said dat, dis happened." He pulled his eye covering down on the left side to show the pale scar that just missed his eye by a hair's breadth. "I got moa if you wanna see. Ones fo' trustin', ones fo' stupidity, I even got on fo' tryin' t' be a good poyson." He put his eye covering back into place. "Dere's no awna where I'm from. If dere was, dere ain't no moa."

There was a commotion and the Elves turned in the direction of the front entrance.

"What's up?" asked Ricky.

The twins frowned at him.

Ricky sighed. "What's goin' on?"

"I do not know," said Elladan.

"We should see," said Elrohir.

The twins ran off to see what all the commotion was about.

"Master Ricky, we will continue our lesson," announced Glorfindel.

"Lesson?" asked Ricky. "Didn't realize you wuh takin' dis so seriously."

"These are dark times," Glorfindel told him. "It is wise to know how to defend yourself, whether it is with blade or bow. Let me see your true talent, Master Ricky. Do not attack in anger."

Ricky's mouth twitched. "Do you really want dat?"

Twenty minutes later, Ricky was laid out flat on his back.

Glorfindel stood over him and smiled. "You have much strength in your legs."

"Runnin' da tunnels," said Ricky.

Glorfindel held out his hand, but Ricky refused it again. "Perhaps we should begin another lesson."

"Anotha?" asked Ricky.

"A language lesson," Glorfindel clarified. "Lord Elrond is a better teacher, but I believe I can do well enough for now."

Ricky frowned. "Whadiya mean a language lesson?"

"I have a difficult time understanding your accent," said Glorfindel. "Common Tongue, or Westron, is not your native tongue."

"Whadiya tawkin' 'bout?" said Ricky. "My English is fine. A lot of us tawk like dis in New York. It's diffoirent in diffoirent boiroughs, but simila' enough."

Elladan hurried around the corner. "Glorfindel, Arwen has brought a Hobbit here. Father is healing him now."

"You do rememba dat I can't undastand a woid yo' sayin'," said Ricky.

"And there are times we do not understand you," Glorfindel pointed out.

Ricky sighed. Both Elves were certain he rolled his eyes behind his eye covering.

"Estel is coming with the other Hobbits," Elladan went on. "We are to take horses to them."

Glorfindel turned back to Ricky. "We will have to continue our lesson another time."

"Okay," said Ricky. "I'll find a way t' keep myself entatained."

Glorfindel and Elladan walked away.

Bilbo was sitting on a stone bench with his finished book in his hands. He looked up and saw the strangest looking boy he had ever seen. He wasn't sure it was a boy at first, not with that strange contraption on his face.

"Oh, good gracious!"

The boy turned to him. His eyes were hidden, but he could see apparently.

"I'm sorry, my boy. I didn't hear you coming."

"S'aight," said the boy. "I'm used to it."

Bilbo waved him over. "Come. Sit. I've been seeing many Elves during my stay here. I do not see other Big Folk often."

"Big Folk?" the boy said.

"Elves, Men, Dwarves even," said Bilbo. "Anyone taller than a Hobbit, in fact."

"So everybody else den," the boy sniped, but was a bit confused.

Bilbo could see a perplexed look on the boy's face. "Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"Ricky Weiss." He looked at the book in Bilbo's hands. "Whatcha readin'?"

Bilbo held the book out.

Ricky looked at the title. "'Hea and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins'. You wrote dis? Dat's amazin'."

"Would you like to read it?" Bilbo asked.

"I wouldn't mind," Ricky replied.

"Then perhaps you would like to read a chapter to me," said Bilbo.

Ricky frowned. "You awready know da book."

"Yes," said Bilbo. "But it would be a joy for someone to read to this old Hobbit."

"Okay." Ricky sat down and carefully opened the book. "'Consoinin' Hobbits.'"

Bilbo smiled. "Your accent is fascinating, Master Weiss. It will take me some time to understand it."

Ricky sighed angrily. "Glo'findel said I have t' loin how t' 'speak propoily'."

"Try," said Bilbo. "You will be surprised at what you can do."

Ricky gave a small nod. "Okay. 'Hobbits have been livin' - living, and farming in da – the - Four Farthings of the Shire for many hundreds of years.'" Ricky's speech was slow and deliberate. A small smile came to his face when he heard he could say the words as they were meant to be said.

"See?" said Bilbo. "Keep going."

"'Quite content to ignore and be ignored by the woild, world, of the Big Folk. Middle Earth being, afta - after – aw – aw -." Ricky shook his head in frustration.

"All," said Bilbo. "You can do it."

"Awww," Ricky tried.

"Look at my mouth," said Bilbo. "All."

"Aw – all," Ricky finally said. "'After all, full of strange creatures beyond count. Hobbits must seem of little importance. Being neither renowned as great wa -warriors nor counted among the very wise. In fact, it has been remarked by some, that Hobbits awnly – only – passion is for food. A rather unfair observation as we have awso – also – developed a keen interest in the brewing of ales and the smoking of pipeweed. But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good tilled earth, for all Hobbits share a love of things that grow.'"

Bilbo was laughing. "I told you you could do it, Master Weiss, I told you."

"T'ank you," Ricky said quietly. "Thank you."

"It will take some time, but I am certain you can get it," said Bilbo, giving Ricky a pat on the back.

Ricky flinched and stiffened.

"Master Weiss?" Bilbo asked.

"I don't like bein' touched," Ricky said quietly, tensing up.

"I'm sorry, Master Weiss. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You can caw me Ricky," he said. He shook his head.

"Like I said," Bilbo encouraged, "you'll get it."

Ricky nodded.

"Master Baggins," said an Elf.

The two of them looked up and saw it was Lindir. Neither of them heard him approach. Ricky jumped and reached for something at his hip, but stopped himself.

"Yes?"

"Lady Arwen has returned and she has brought your young cousin with her," said Lindir.

"Frodo? He's here?" Bilbo pushed himself off the bench. Ricky reached out to grab him if he fell, but made no move to touch him.

Lindir stepped forward and took Bilbo's arm. "He arrived with a wound from a Morgul blade. Lord Elrond is healing him now."

Bilbo was horrified. "Oh, no."

Lindir led Bilbo to the healing halls, leaving Ricky by the bench.

Aragorn and the other Hobbits arrived that night. The Hobbits had been taken to the guest chambers and were being fed, much to the delight of Merry and Pippin. Aragorn took the horses back to the stables along with Elladan and Elrohir.

"A boy arrived with Gandalf?" Aragorn asked.

The twins had told them that Gandalf had been delayed and had arrived in Rivendell at dawn, but they had not said anything about the strange boy who arrived with him.

"Yes. He is certainly odd."

"And angry."

"His speech is strange. It is almost like another language."

"At first, we were unsure if he was speaking Westron."

"I am sure I will meet the boy soon enough," said Aragorn.

Above them, there was a noise in the loft.

"Is someone there?" Elladan called up.

There was more rustling in the loft and someone looked down at them, someone with a strange eye covering with clear glass.

"What are you doing up there, Master Weiss?" asked Elladan.

"I was sleepin'," replied Ricky tiredly.

"In the stables?" asked Elrohir. "Our father provided you with a room."

Ricky shook his head. "Couldn't sleep in it." He disappeared and they could hear straw shuffling.

"Elladan, Elrohir, let me speak to the boy," said Aragorn.

The twins stabled their horses and left.

Aragorn waited a few moments before climbing up the ladder to the loft. Some of the straw was piled up to make a small bed. The boy, Ricky, was curled up in a ball.

"Master Weiss," Aragorn called softly.

The boy jumped up with a small thin blade in his hand.

Aragorn put his hands up in surrender. "Peace, child. I only wish to speak to you."

"You nevah sleep eitha," grumbled Ricky. He folded up the blade and slipped it down his boot. "Who'a you and whadiya want?"

"You may call me Strider and I wanted to meet you," said Aragorn. "My brothers told me about how you traveled with Gandalf."

"Yo' brothas?" said Ricky.

"Elladan and Elrohir."

"Look nuthin' like you. And dere shouldn't have been much to tawk about."

"They did tell me you gave Elrohir a bruise."

"Dey'a twins. Had t' have a way t' tell them apart. And El'ohi' pissed me awf. He said I couldn't fight. Now Glo'findel wants t' give me propa lessons." Ricky rolled his eyes.

Aragorn understood what Elladan and Elrohir meant by the boy speaking another language. It was nasally, almost whiny, but also forceful. His words sounded clumsy and uneducated and from what Aragorn heard of Ricky's actions, he was arrogant and ignorant, childish in fact.

"Why did you come to sleep in the stables?" asked Aragorn.

"'Cause I couldn't sleep in da bed," Ricky replied.

"There are other, more comfortable places to sleep." Aragorn looked over the side of the loft. "Is it because of the horses? You wanted to see them?"

Ricky didn't answer.

"Do you like horses?" Aragorn pressed.

"I like animals," Ricky replied quietly. "Dey don't judge. Dey don't care if yo' rich or po'. Dey don't care way yo' from. Dey don't care if yo' diffoirent. Dey don't judge."

"Are you often judged?" Aragorn inquired.

"Every single day."

Aragorn was quiet for a minute. "I will leave you to sleep." He left the stables so Ricky could get some rest.