Thanks for opening up this story! I hope the first chapter doesn't bore you to death.

A Note to my faithful readers of THA: Thank you for your patience and your dedication to this story. I hope the rewrite makes up for my absence? (If you read the preview I posted on Hooded Angel, you can just skip to the page break)

To any new readers: Thank you for your interest! Your opinions and input mean a lot to me and I hope this story if worth your time.

Chapter 1: We Begin Again

This was it; The start of something great. I had taken some of my old clothes and sewn them together to make a mismatched hooded cloak. I had bought an old saddle and used the leather to make a well-fitted mask.

I waited for my parents to retire for the night before slipping off of the estate. I walked quietly through the dark streets, my disguise tucked neatly under my arm. I avoided people as I went, and soon reached the poor parts of the small city. I slipped into the trees on the outskirts of the fields and pulled on my cloak and mask. I walked deeper into the woods, slowly making my way to where I had hidden my horse, Tomahawk. She nickered softly as I untied her and lead her to the field on the very edge of town.

A plow was sitting out in the field, waiting to be put to work. I had heard in the marketplace a few days ago that the family's plow horse had died and they didn't have the money to replace it. Without the field plowed, they couldn't plant crops and would lose everything.

I lead Toma to stand in front of the plow while I slipped into the family's barn to find the straps. It took me close to an hour to find them, figure out how to use them, and hook them up to both the plow and my horse. It was close to midnight by the time I was able to get started plowing.

As the daughter of the Lord of the city, I never had to do any manual labor. My muscles were weak, and I was exhausted by the time we completed one row, but I kept going, determined to complete what I risked so much to do. Tomahawk, who was bred to be a work horse but not a plow horse, faithfully trudged through half of the field before slowing down.

It was after three in the morning, and we were both sweating despite the cold spring air. Tired and sore, I spoke to Toma quietly as we slowly, yet surely, continued to plow the field. It was nearing dawn when we finally finished and both fell asleep where we were standing. I promised myself two minutes of rest before releasing the horse and heading home.

I must have lost track of time, because the next thing I knew there was shouting coming from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see the excited family yelling and waving enthusiastically as they ran my way. I pulled Tomahawk free of the leather straps as quickly as I could, jumped onto her back, and kicked her as hard I could. She shot off, startled, and leaped the fence.

That was when I started running, and I haven't stopped since.

It had been 14 months since I became the Hooded Angel. After that first night, I was able to stay around for a month, secretly helping wherever I could, but my fame soon made it too dangerous to stay and I had to leave our small town. My father, lord of the city, thought that the Angel was a revolutionary, here to overthrow our "perfectly good government and infest us with chaos." I had to lay low while I convinced him to send me to Minas Tirith to be safe from "the scheming hound".

I snuck away from Minas Tirith one night and rode Freyja, the prized Mearas mare my father bought for me from Rohan, back home. I sent her back to the estate without me and slipped around the outskirts of town to collect Tomahawk, the red-and-white mountain horse I secretly bought a couple months before I left. The stable boy had been secretly caring for her in my absence, without my father's knowledge.

We left the makeshift barn that afternoon and rode hard for Edoras. Even over the rough terrain of the Misty Mountains, we made good time and arrived in just under a week. Once there, I continued my work as the Hooded Angel. I was able to stay in Edoras and the surrounding area for just under a year, refining my skills, building muscle, and helping people, before I became too famous for my own good and had too leave.

I appears that most places viewed me more as a political enemy than a helpful ally, so I had to keep moving.

I had been traveling for over a month and was finally in Bree. I had taken a scenic route, helping in odd places and little towns in hopes of throwing anyone who might have been following me off of my trail.

I paused outside the city, debating my options. I could go in as the Angel, but I would probably get in a fight and, even though I was training as hard as I could as often as I could, I wasn't ready for that. My other option was to enter as myself, Zella, but that could also be dangerous. A young, unmarried girl typically doesn't travel on her own, and the fact that I am is just asking for trouble.

I decided that I would leave Tomahawk, and the Hooded Angel, outside the city and head for The Prancing Pony. I had heard some good things about the owner of the tavern and was hoping to receive a friendly welcome.

I entered the tavern and went straight up to the counter, trying to avoid everyone. Social settings, like this one, were great for gossip and information, but not this late at night with this many drunks running around. Right now, I just wanted to get a bed and go to sleep.

"What can I do for you, young miss?" A kind man asked as I approached the front counter. I assumed this was Mr. Butterbur.

"I'm looking for a room for the night, and a warm meal," I said politely.

He looked at me for a moment before nodded and ruffling around in a drawer.

"Ah, here we are!" he exclaimed as he pulled out a key.

He lead me to a room on the second floor and handed me the key. "I'll send someone up with a meal."

I thanked and paid him before flopping down on the bed. It had been a while since I was able to sleep in a real bed, and having a warm place to sleep for the night seemed like a luxury I hadn't been able to have since I left home.

A knock on the door dragged me out of my dozing and off the bed. I opened it and found an empty hallway. I was about it shut it and go back to my half-asleep state when someone cleared their throat. I glanced down and saw a little hobbit holding a tray of food.

"Oh, um... Hi," I stuttered, not really sure how to recover from completely overlooking him. "You can just go set that by the window."

"Of course, miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you. That will be all for the night."

He left and I sank down into the chair by the window. I stared out into the dark as I slowly ate my bread. I was about to nod off when a bit of movement caught my eye. I strained to see in the gloom, but could make out four figures rushing into the Pony and out of the rain, glancing over their shoulders as they went.

Well, well, well. Looks like some work just rolled in.