AN: I changed Shadows name to Storyteller, just a heads up. :D Enjoy! ;P
-0-
The noise in the Smokey Inn was defining as men of all kinds, big folk, local hobbits, and a couple of dwarfs, drank themselves into stupors while women weaved through them serving food and more drink. It was dimly lit, most of the light coming chiefly from a blazing log fire casting flickering shadows all around. The only relatively quiet place was in a dark corner where two darkly cloaked figures resided, their eyes looking over the different people, but always returning to a table of hobbits.
"So those are them." Storyteller said, her eyes looking to her brother Strider.
"I believe so." Strider said before taking another pull on his pipe.
"I'm worried." Storyteller said softly, her hands tightening around her mug. "They seem so innocent."
"We are only taking them to Rivendell." Strider said to her.
"A lot can happen between Bree and Rivendell, especially with those…creatures on our heels." Storyteller took a sip of her drink as they looked back to the hobbits.
The four hobbits that Gandalf had given them charge over to protect sat at a table against the wall clearly trying to remain quiet and inconspicuous which of course mad them all the more obvious. The one called Sam it seemed couldn't help himself as he kept casting nervous glances around. Storyteller could tell that they had had a run in with the creatures she referred to as things, the look in his eyes said it all.
"Sam, he'll be here. He'll come." Frodo said trying to reassure him then Merry plunked himself down at a table drawing everyone's attention, carrying a very large mug of beer.
"What's that?" Pippin asked.
"This, my friend, is a pint." Merry said with a creepy enthusiastic smile.
"It comes in pints?" Pippin questioned.
"Mmm…" Merry hummed into his mug as he drank.
"I'm getting one!" Pippin said rising unsteadily to his feet heading to the bar.
"You've had a whole half already." Sam yelled after him taking notice of a couple of swarthy men leaning against the bar glancing at Frodo, and then quickly looking away then his eyes traveled the room once again settling on the dim corner where Storyteller and Strider sat.
"I think he's noticed us." Storyteller said Strider humming in agreement as Sam looked to them then tried to pretend that he wasn't.
"Those fellows have done nothing but stare at you since we've arrived." Sam said indicating two brooding strangers who were sitting at a table in the far corner, one smoking a curiously carved long stemmed pipe while the other was sipping at her drink, both peering from beneath a travel stained cowls with gleaming eyes at them. Frodo gestured to Butterbur.
"Excuse me, those men in the corner, who are they?" Frodo asked and Butterbur glanced over to the indicated corner, his eyes lighting up in recognition.
"They're a couple of them Rangers; they're dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What they're right names are, I never heard, but round here he's known as Strider and she's the Storyteller." Butterbur said.
"She?" Sam asked in surprise.
"Yes, the one drinking. She can spin a yarn like no one else if she's in the mood. You never see one without the other, sister and brother they are." Butterbeer said with a knowing nod.
"Strider, Storyteller." Frodo said to himself while beneath the table his fingers nervously toy with the ring as sweat runs down his brow.
"Baggins? Sure, I know a Baggins...he's over there..." A drunken Pippin said sitting at the bar, chatting with locals gestured over his shoulder.
"Strider." Storyteller said about to stand.
"Don't move." Strider said although he leaned forward as Frodo leapt to his feet and pushed his way towards the bar desperately trying to get to Pippin.
"Frodo Baggins. He's my second cousin once removed, on his mother's side and my third cousin twice removed on his father's side...if you follow me." Pippin went on, unaware of the danger he was putting them all in.
"Pippin!" Frodo said as he grabbed Pippin's sleeve, spilling his beer.
"Steady on, Frodo!" Pippin said as he pushed Frodo away who stumbled backwards, and falling to the floor. At that instant, the Inn went silent as the grave and all the attention turns to Frodo. The ring, in agonizing slow motion it seemed hung in the air for a split second then crashed down onto his out stretched finger.
Frodo Vanished!
There was a sharp intake of breath...followed once again by totally stunned silence.
Sam looked like he was about to be sick; Merry was wide eyed in shock; Pippin instantly sobered, realizing his folly; and the brooding Strider frowned as he and his sister looked round the room following the subtle movements in the dust on the ground as it weaved around patrons while the inn erupts into excited babble.
"There." Storyteller said quietly just as Frodo rematerialized near the stairs. She and Strider quickly walked over to him Strider reaching under the table and grabbed Frodo by the collar, and dragged him away. He roughly pushed Frodo against the wall.
"You draw far too much attention to yourself Mr. Underhill." Strider bit out then pulled him up the stairs followed by Storyteller who wearily cast her eyes around making sure they were not followed. They soon came to a room and Strider pushed Frodo in.
"What do you want?" Frodo demanded as the rangers walked in securing the room and extinguishing the candles so the only light came from the fire in the hearth.
"A little more caution from you...that is no trinket you carry." Strider replied as he and Storyteller removed their hoods.
Strider had dark brown wavy hair that brushed against his shoulders, a strong face covered in thick stubble, sun tanned skin, and a regal barring. His sister the Storyteller had long light brown hair that was held in a low braid by a black leather strap and steel blue grey eyes that matched her brothers. She stood a few inches shorter than Strider, the top her head just reaching the base of his neck, and the same sun tanned skin as her brother.
"I carry nothing." Frodo defended himself, his eyes wide with fear though he tried to put on a brave front.
"Indeed?" Storyteller said sarcastically rolling her eyes.
"We can usually avoid being seen if we wish, but to disappear entirely..." Strider shook his head sharing a look with his sister. "That is a rare gift."
"Who are you?" Frodo asked.
"Are you frightened?" Strider asked.
"Yes." Frodo answered truthfully.
"Not nearly frightened enough." Strider replied. "We know what hunts you."
Frodo jumped at the sound of a noise in the corridor. Strider and Storyteller deftly drew their swords. The door burst open and Sam, Merry and Pippin appeared in the doorway ready for a fight. Sam was squaring off with his fists, Merry brandishing a candlestick, and Pippin a holding up a chair getting ready to club the rangers.
"Let him go or I'll have you, Longshanks!" Sam threatened. Strider sheathed his sword, a slight smile playing on his lips as Storyteller giggled the hobbits looking to the woman in surprise.
"You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won't save you...You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo." Strider said ominously as Storyteller nodded in agreement.
"They're coming." Storyteller said looking out the window.
Inside the gatehouse of Bree, the wizened gatekeeper heard a horse snorting. He got up to investigate and opened the window in the gate. Suddenly the Black Riders crashed through the gate, crushing the gatekeeper underneath it, and galloped to the Prancing Pony. Screeches are heard echoing through the town like a banshees scream. The innkeeper hid behind the door, terrified as the Riders came to the Inn, entering swiftly, swords drawn, with only one purpose in mind ignoring all others not in their path.
Inside their room, the Hobbits were soundly asleep unaware of the danger lurking nearby. The Riders made for the hobbits' room. Silently, they raised their swords high above them to plunge into the sleeping bodies. The swords descend, stabbing violently at the still forms as the Hobbits suddenly awake. The Riders pull back the covers scattering feathers everywhere and realized they had been attacking bedclothes and pillows. Their scream of anguish and frustration stretched through the town chilling all who heard it to the bone.
Grimly Strider sat beside the window listening to the sounds of the Ringwraiths as Storyteller laid a hands on his shoulders standing behind him. Strider reached up taking one of her hands in his as they kept starring outside the window. They watched in tense silence as the Riders remounted their dark horses taking off down the road. Frodo, gravely concerned at the attack, sat at the foot of the bed while the rest of the sleeping hobbits were awakened by the Riders' cries, all wide-eyed and fearful
"Who are they?" Frodo asked.
"A sad story." Strider said with a downcast look. "They were once men. Great Kings of men."
"Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power." Storyteller took up the story when Strider fell silent; glancing quickly to Frodo then looked away. Her brother more than anything else feared the weakness of men, the weakness he thought himself to have. "Blinded by their greed they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness and now they are slaves to his will."
Strider and Storyteller looked from the window as the Ringwraiths galloped out of sight down the streets of Bree. Strider turned back to the Hobbits, his face lit faintly by the glowing embers of the fire.
"They are the Nazgul, 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." Strider told Frodo truthfully, his face grim.
"And we will never stop protecting you." Storyteller said with a kind smile to Frodo after seeing his fear at Strider's words. "Get some sleep Frodo, we have a long road ahead of us."
Frodo nodded reluctantly as he bedded down for the night along with the other hobbits for the night.
"You should get some sleep as well." Strider said looking to Storyteller
"So should you." Storyteller replied evenly.
"Someone must keep watch." Strider said sternly causing Storyteller to let out an annoyed sigh.
"Fine, but wake me when half the night is spent so you may get some sleep as well." Storyteller said gaining a nod from her brother before she settled into a chair next to the fire allowing herself to drift away.
-0-
Strider, Storyteller, Merry, Pippin, and Frodo marched through a gloomy, overgrown forest. They had started out the next morning as early as they could after bartering for supplies which included a scrawny pony names Bill who was laden with the supplies. Sam had taken to the animal and was in charge of leading the pony through their journey.
"Where are you taking us?" Frodo demanded.
"Into the wild." Strider replied, barely glancing back.
"How do we know this Strider and Shadow are friends of Gandalf?" Merry asked Frodo as they walked.
"I think the servant of the enemy would look fairer and feel fouler." Frodo replied.
"He's foul enough and she fair enough." Merry commented making Storyteller grin to her brother who rolled his eyes at her.
"We have no choice, but to trust them." Frodo said as they went on.
"But where is he leading us?" Sam asked.
"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee...to the house of Elrond." Strider answered him, startling the hobbits who thought he would not be able to hear them. Sam gained an excited look at the thought of the great elven home.
"Did you hear that? Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!" Sam said excitedly.
"You have an interest in the elder?" Storyteller conversed falling back next to Sam.
"I liked to read about them." Sam replied with a blush. "Have you met many?"
"Oh a few more or less." Storyteller smiled to Strider who smirked back.
The rangers led them through gloomy forests then across the windswept moors then the hobbits suddenly stopped and started to unstrapped their knapsacks. The rangers took note of this exchanging confused looks before returning their gaze to the hobbits.
"Gentlemen, we do not stop until nightfall." Strider said.
"What about breakfast?" Merry asked.
"You've already had it." Strider said slightly confused, but Storytellers face lit up in realization.
"We've had one, yes...but what about second Breakfast?" Pippin asked.
Strider stared at Pippin blankly before looking to his sister who just smiled shaking her head as they turned away continuing on their journey trusting the hobbits to follow.
"Brother, Hobbits are used to at least eight meals a day not including snacks." Storyteller said with a smile when Strider gave her a slightly surprised look.
"Eight." He echoed as he took some apples.
"Eight." Storyteller confirmed with a nod.
"Where do they put it all?" Strider asked as he tossed them over the bushes to where the Hobbits were, but Storyteller merely shrugged un-knowingly.
"I don't think they know about second breakfast, Pip." Merry said.
"What about Elvenses, Luncheon, Afternoon Tea, dinner, supper...they know about them, don't they?" Pippin asked in a panicked voice.
"I wouldn't count on it." Merry said as an apple was thrown to him which he deftly caught. Another, aimed at Pippin, catches him on the forehead, he picked it up looking in confusion at the sky while rubbing his head.
The party slowly made their way through increasingly rough country as the day wore on. It became darker as the forest gave way to flat marshland, all go up to their knees in the sludgy mire. The conditions were made worse by an army of midges which attacked them all unmercifully. Merry slapped despairingly at the cloud of pests hovering around him as did the rest of the hobbits, they were all miserable.
"What do they eat - when they can't get Hobbit?" Merry asked sarcastically.
"Here, take some of this, it will keep them away." Storyteller said taking out a jar and rubbing a bit of the contents on each of the hobbits who were ecstatic that it worked and the bugs were leaving them alone.
"What is this stuff?" Pippin asked.
"A mixture of Marigolds and Basil." Storyteller answered as she gave some to Strider as well. "The plants give off strong fumes that the midges hate." Behind them, Pippin stumbled and fell into the mire, measuring his length. He popped right back up spluttering and trying to scrape the muck off of his face. "And it's water proof."
Eventually they made camp for the night on the boggy ground, they only relatively dry spot they were able to come across. Strider managed to hunt and kill a deer which he brought back for their supper. Storyteller along with Sam's help cooked it over a fire and it was consumed relatively quickly.
That night Storyteller did what she loved best and spun for them a story called Fearnot. They were riveted as she told her tale of the adventures of a boy who went out into the world to learn what fear was, accompanied by a dishonest but loveable tinker. He faced many dangers without learning to be afraid, only to learn that fear is at home: the fear of losing his sweetheart.
Soon after her story was completed the hobbits fell into a deep exhausted sleep, the moon rising high over them giving them comfort, leaving Strider and Storyteller awake, keeping watch by the fire. Strider hummed a tune softly to himself while Storyteller softly hummed along, not one for singing herself that talent lay with her brother more than her.
Frodo woke, hearing Strider as he started to sing the words softly and sat up staring at the ranger who sat upon a rock singing softly as Storyteller sat on her bed roll her back leaning against the side of his legs.
Tinúviel elvanui,
Elleth alfirin ethelhael
O hon ring finnil fuinui
A renc gelebrin thiliol.
Tinúviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her night-dark hair,
And arms like silver glimmering.
"Who is she? This woman you sing of?" Frodo asked, interrupting the song.
"Tis the Lay of Lúthien. The Elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal." Strider said sadly.
"What happened to her?" Frodo asked as Storyteller reached up taking Striders hand in hers.
"She died." Strider said with a deep sigh looking away from Frodo. His face bore a hint of tears as he gripped Storytellers hand.
"Get some sleep, Frodo." Storyteller said softly and the young hobbit nodded lowering himself back to the ground.
-0-
The next day Strider, Storyteller, and the Hobbits had moved on from the marshland and were now crossing rough rocky country as they gained in altitude drawing closer to the mountains where the elven city lay before the jagged steeps. Strider stopped them and looked at the ruins atop a tall hill the others following his line of sight taking in the sight.
"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl." Strider told them all. "We shall rest here tonight."
It was almost dark by the time they reached the top; Frodo, Merry, Sam, and Pippin collapsed into a small hollow, halfway up Weathertop; muddy and exhausted. Strider walked up to them and dropped a bundle at the Hobbits feet. Storyteller kneeled down opening the bundle revealing four short swords just right for the hobbits.
"These are for you. Keep them close." Strider told then as they each took up a sword looking them over, Frodo drawing his from its scabbier as did Merry. Pippin and Sam looked unsure of the blade given to them. "Storyteller and I are going to have a look around. Stay here."
With that the two rangers turned hurrying back down the way they had come.
"I will go to the left." Storyteller said, her eyes darting around them ever watchful.
"Alright, be safe and meet me back here before the moon reaches the center of the sky." Strider said sternly, gripping her shoulder.
"I will." Storyteller said with a quick smile and the two rangers split up to cover more ground at the base.
Storyteller kept her eyes ever moving, never lingering in one spot as she walked along the base of the tower. After a while she glanced up at the moon seeing that it was close to the center and was about to start back when she saw the flickering of a fire going out then a scream split the air.
Cursing to herself she lowered herself blending into the deeper shadows as she moved forward. Another shadow darker than the night drifted not too far away from her position forcing her to stop. As soon as it was clear she ran swiftly and quietly until she met up with her brother.
"The hobbits." Was all he said before they darted up the tower as fast as they could.