Chapter Two: Lucky

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Disclaimer: I do not own anything.


Evelyn felt a hand grab her by the wrist. Fuming, Evelyn turned to tell off the person who had grabbed her, when she came face to face with an older man leering down at her. Evelyn recoiled at how close he was, his breath reeking of alcohol, and it took all her effort not throw up.

"Well, what do we have here? A nice young woman all by her lonesome?" The man's hands moved from Evelyn's wrist to her forearm and with a jerk, brought her crashing into him. "And she smells good too." With roaring laughter, most of the others close to them joined him in his teasing.

"Let me go." Evelyn tried to muster an intimidating voice but faltered.

"Haha! She's a feisty one too! Why not join me for a quick round?" The man's hand became tighter on her arm and pulled her even closer to him. With quick reflexes, Evelyn pushed herself away from him with her free hand, making him let her go. With her resounding slap, the surrounding crowd quieted to whispers.

Evelyn's hand hurt from coming in contact with his not so pleasant face. Taking a quick glance around at the crowd, Evelyn saw surprised faces staring back at her. Looking around, her eyes landed on the man she had slapped. His face had gone red; his eyes, surprised, had taken up a murderous glare.

"That was a wrong move on your end, you foolish wench! Don't you know who I am?" His voice was seething, spitting out every word with venom. He lightly took a step towards her. Evelyn swallowed; the looks of every other man present only proved that the man she had slapped must be of high importance, and not one to messed with.

Another step.

She felt like the room was closing in on her.

"You must not be from around here, and from the looks of it…" He glanced around, all the while smiling at her. "You're here by yourself."

Another step.

Evelyn could feel her heart beat increasing, her skin felt scorching hot. What have I gotten myself into?

"And what is this? I never seen such clothing before." He scanned her body and licked his lips. She glared at the man, feeling violated by such an act.

"Elven made?" Another step towards her; Evelyn stepped one back. With a curse in her head, it clicked why a lot of people had warily thrown glances at her when she came through the gate: all the others were wearing clothing that was nothing short of medieval style. She had thought she had entered into a Hutterites community, which were common where she lived. Looking around her, Evelyn realized it was far from what she had thought it was.

Evelyn was glad that she was wearing a black coat to cover the t-shirt she wore underneath – the low neckline of the shirt would have placed her in a very awkward and most likely dangerous situation. Her black pants were the attraction to all, gaining disapproving looks from the women she had passed – it seemed that trousers were an article of clothing that is not meant for a woman to wear.

"Guddry, we should leave now." A voice among the crowd called out.

Guddry? What an ugly name… Not fully realizing, Evelyn had let out a smirk at the name.

Guddry frowned when he saw her smirk, but it was immediately washed away by a more unexpected, dangerous smile.

With quick steps, he had her backed up to a wall. He seized a fistful of her coat and punched her in the stomach, making her double over. Evelyn gasped, trying to draw breath into her lungs. Her vision became blurry, as her eyes welled with tears. Before she could draw another breath, Guddry lifted her by the hair, pain shooting through her scalp. Closing her eyes Evelyn punched around wildly, and heard him laugh at her futile attempts. He let go of her hair and she dropped back on her knees, her head feeling like someone had pounded her into concrete. Taking another deep breath, she wrapped her arms tightly in her middle.

She tried to retreat back to her mind, to ignore the pain, to become oblivious to what was happening around her. She jerked back when she felt a hand in her shoulder. Looking up, a man knelt beside her, talking softly. But the pain in her middle and the aching in her scalp overwhelmed her. She tightly closed her eyes and felt a tear run down her cheek.

He helped her up, asking her another question. He waited for her to answer, but when none came, Evelyn felt him slowly lift her off her feet.


"Is she all right?"

"I do not know. Who is she, Strider?"

A deep sighed escaped the man. "I do not know either, but perhaps tomorrow she will grace us with it. Let her rest, master hobbits."

Evelyn felt horrible. She wanted to hide under a rock: to just curl up into a ball and stay hidden for a long while. She could hear a chair being pulled up, as well as feet moving away from her. She felt scared that the man would drag her somewhere far away, but he had been gentle with her. She could her whispers not too far away from her, and she swears she had heard one of the voices before.

Touching her middle, she flinched as pain stung her. She had long stopped crying since he had set her on the bed. The pain in her scalp had lessened, but was replaced with an overwhelming, painful, headache.

The whole situation seemed to have taken her voice away. She gave a sigh as she felt another prickly sensation in her head. Pulling her coat tighter to herself, she closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep, hoping the pain wouldn't follow her in her dreams.


Evelyn stood in the darkness. Shadows of grey played around her like mist. She felt terrified being in such a place, scared that there was nobody around to protect her, scared that she was the only one in the place.

On her left, she heard a noise. Soon a figure emerged, the shadows transforming into its clothing. She was about to call out to the figure when she saw a sword that radiated darkness, glinting in the figure's hand. Slowly, more figures emerged – only visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings. Terror swept through her, her instinct telling her to take flight.

Run...

The cold breeze brushed against her skin, and Evelyn inhaled sharply. Immediately, the shadowy figures snapped their gazes towards her. The figures gave a piercing, bloodcurdling cry that broke through the air. She was frozen as they made their way to her – the darkness closing in on her.

Run!

She turned around and bolted.

You cannot escape us...we have found you...you are ours... The voices sounded inhuman, unnatural, cruel and cold.

Evelyn looked behind her and found that the figures were naught but a few strides behind her. One of the shadow reached out its hand; but just when it was about to come contact with her skin, another piercing cry sounded through the air.


Evelyn shot up in her bed, covering her ears from the screeching sound. It echoed through the quiet night, followed by the sounds of hoofbeats trotting away. She glanced to her left. The man was sitting by the window sill; he was staring at her, studying her with his piercing grey eyes. Not able to take any more of his gaze, Evelyn glanced at the bed next to hers. On it were two children; a third lay on the floor. All were sound asleep except for a dark-haired child who stood by the man by the window. She lay back down, facing the door.

"What are they?" the dark-haired child asked the man, as they both stared outside the window.

"They are the Nazgul: the black riders that served under Sauron. They were once men: great men that fell to the shadows, lured by the power and wealth offered to them." He explained in a slightly pained tone.

The man and the child conversed some more. Soon Evelyn heard the child climb back to the bed, and silence again settled in the room.

She remembered her dream, and grimaced at the thought. She did not want to go back to sleep in case the nightmare visited her again.

She gave a sigh and thought back, going through the images in her dreams. The black shadows that surrounded the figures had seemed to suck the life out of her, and the voices had made her blood run cold. We have found you…you are ours. What did they mean?

Not wanting to dwell anymore on the topic, she dismissed it.

A hand touched her arm, and she jolted in surprise. The man was leaning over her, and even though he had not done anything bad, she couldn't help but feel tense around him.

"I will not hurt you milady. I just want to check if you're feeling a bit better now?" He spoke to her in a soft and gentle way, as not to disconcert her even more.

Evelyn met his eyes. She could see that he was genuinely concerned about her, and she relaxed.

"I'm fine...thanks to you." Her voice came out raspier than what she expected.

The man smiled and turned back around, walking to the table by the window. He came back with a small cup and held it out to her. "It's just a small mixture of Athelas to ease the pain, and cure your headache."

Grabbing the cup, she held it to her nose and sniffed; smells of lavender hit her senses. She drank it immediately, feeling the warmth spread through her body. The man gave a small chuckle and she couldn't help but smile back. "I really do want to thank you. I - I do not know what...what would have happen if you..." All kinds of images of what could have happened flashed through her mind. She shivered at the thought.

The man laid his hands on her shoulder. "It is all right; you are safe now. I must admit I admire that you stood up to him. To be so cheeky that you slapped him." At this the man gave her another smile. "Guddry is a big brute, feared by most here in Bree. His father was a rich man who handled and financed most businesses here. When the father died, Guddry inherited his father's dealings; now most people do not contradict his actions for fear of losing their source of income."

"And you?" she asked.

"I am a traveler, and even then I do not do dealings with dishonorable men. A man should never lay a hand on a woman." At this he walked back to his chair by the window.

"May I know your name?" she questioned.

"I am Strider, a ranger from the north."

A ranger from the north? ...Strider, what an odd name...

She set the cup on the side table by her bed and lay down facing Strider. In a hushed voice, she tiredly told him her name, the smell of lavender lulling her to sleep.

"Evelyn, my name is Evelyn."


I know it's going by a bit slow, but it's just the beginning!

I appreciate a critique review, but please no hate reviews.

Thanks for reading!

"Don't frown. You never know who is falling in love with your smile."

(Updated: 07/17/2012)

::: Thanks to my beta-reader lissylouwho! :::