A/N Wow I am really surprised about all the follows already, thank you :) And a big dwarven hug to you all who reviewed, it is always appreciated, thank you :) Let's hope I won't disappoint you ;)

About this chapter... it might feel a bit for a filler but 'tis not. There's a little peek to Gwen's history, short version though so hope you find the time to read it too. I was very confused with the timeline first but I think I managed to get that in order. We will also get a first glance at our beloved scarred dwarf :) I also promise that average word count per chapter will be bigger than this! ;)

If someone is interested, I posted some pictures to my Tumblr page about this chapter, link is found in my profile :)

Enjoy :)

2. In the inn of the Green Dragon

Precisely fourteen days from the night she had ran into Gandalf in the Prancing Pony she was sitting on the tavern named the Green Dragon sipping her ale quietly. That particular tavern was located in the Shire and few of the elder hobbits gave her rather disapproving looks. Not that she cared, she was used to it. Rangers did get odd looks from folk in many places but that was mainly because people were afraid of them. It was very rare to get to know a ranger, they kept mostly to themselves. People fear what they do not know. Arador had said that.

He had been a wise man and Gwen really missed him. To her he had been also a great teacher and a loyal friend. Fifteen years she had spent with him learning all he could teach to her. Simple everyday acts as well as mastering her swords. His teachings were precious to her and she sometimes felt that she had been a daughter the man never had. Arador became a father figure to her since her own father did not approve her eldest daughter becoming a ranger and did not keep in touch after she left home. That is not suitable and honorable way for lady! He had said. Gwen did not understand why would one think that. She couldn't understand why would the only manner fit for a lady be staying at home and becoming a mother. Were there no place for valor and honor? She was sad that her father had abandoned her, but she was driven and enjoying her life as it was as a ranger.

And then Gilraen paid her a visit at the camp one day, out of the blue. Arador welcomed her sister warmly among the Dúnedain and it was the very first evening they shared a supper when Arador introduced her to his son, Arathorn. Gwen could tell right that moment that her sister fell in love and she was happy for her. She had always been the one with the traditional dreams – meeting a man of her life, wedding, starting a family and all that.

But the bliss of their new found love did not last. Their father did not approve the marriage and at first he forbade Gilraen to marry Arathorn. Their family was breaking apart since Gilraen, too, had inherited her share of the stubbornness although Gwen had gotten the bigger portion of that into her character. Fortunately their mother was wiser than their father and convinced him to allow the marriage. Gwen and Gilraen did not know how on earth did she do that but Arathorn wed Gilraen in the summer of 2929 of the Second Age. Her father was not there. Gwen remembered the expression on her sister's face when she realized that her father would not come and that expression made sure that Gwen could not ever forgive him. Yet Gilraen was happy with Arathorn and soon they were blessed with a son.

Sadly, Arador did not get to witness the birth of his grandson - he died a year before Aragorn was born. Slain by orcs he was and Gwen swore revenge. Only two years from that he was followed by Arathorn and Gilraen was left with their 2-year old son. Arathorn was slain by orcs, too and Gwen's hatred for orcs grew even bigger as she watched her sister's suffering. Eventually, Gilraen returned to their parents and left the young Aragorn to Rivendell to be raised there. Anger swell inside Gwen during the years, not only had orcs slain her fellow rangers over the years, some of she considered even friends, but when they had taken his mentor from her and a love from her sister… That was not something to forget. And she trained harder, everyday, remembering Arador's teachings and his wise words. Because the day would come when she would get her vendetta and for that, she could not be too prepared.

Those memories were the biggest part of the reason she sat here, in the Green Dragon, today. She didn't really want to admit that to herself but she also needed something exciting to do, like an adventure. She didn't like to think herself that shallow, that she would actually go to some quest just because she was bored. And even more she hated to admit that there was a hint of truth in that mischievous wizard's words when he had told her that things are meant to happen. Gwen huffed and took a large sip of her ale. She reached her pocket and took a grumbled piece of parchment to her hands.

Shire, Bag-End, a quest. You'll find my mark on the green door. Adventure guaranteed and you'll maybe get to slay some orcs too.

Gandalf must've slipped that to her pocket when they hugged briefly before her departure. Surprisingly, she hadn't thought all that long when she had already found herself packing her stallion preparing the journey to west. She wondered if this would have something to do with the mysterious brooding dwarf Gandalf was meeting at the inn but she discarded the idea because she couldn't possibly think up any business that dwarves would have in this little sweet place. Although she couldn't either think any plausible reason why Gandalf would invite her to the Shire when he was promising her an adventure. There was absolutely nothing adventurous in this place, nor in it's folk. They were polite and nice people and they appreciated good food and drink but they were hardly material for adventures. Gwen finished her ale and glanced out of the window. It was hardly afternoon. She was early, she knew that and maybe, just maybe, she had ridden little too fast unknowingly. Mayhaps she was little eager to go this 'adventure'…

She watched as hobbits stuffed meals after meals into their stomachs and Gwen could not understand how did they manage that. She had eaten a delicious bowl of stew and bread aside it when she had arrived an hour ago and she was still all too full. Another ale wouldn't hurt though. Returning to her table in the corner with a large mug of ale her attention was drawn to the door as were almost everyone's in the tavern.

There was a dwarf standing in the doorway.

The dwarf was tall (for a dwarf) and he had impressive beard with a long moustache, both in almost black color, and he had so broad shoulders he had to turn a little sideways to fit through the tiny door which was built for hobbits', obviously. He also had some kind of fur coat on his shoulders, she couldn't really tell more specifically from that far, and a brown leather belt with impressively carved buckle on it. Across his wide chest he had two thick crossed leather straps which were holding two large axes on his back. Gwen was captured by his appearances and she found herself staring at the dwarf from her corner table. He looked around him giving the staring hobbits' menacing glare. She could've sworn he narrowed his eyes when they reached her when he was scanning through the tavern but she didn't get the menacing gaze. She lowered her gaze quickly as if she was caught of doing something inappropriate.

Taking a gulp from her drink Gwen returned her attention to the surface of the table. She was about to sink back to her earlier thoughts when the very same dwarf made his way to the opposite side of the room and caught her eye again. She forced back a smirk which crept to her lips when she was looking at the hobbits who were still glancing at the dwarf suspiciously and some of them whispering and motioning towards him. Well, at least I do not draw that much attention to myself just by simply being. Gwen chuckled at this thought. A hobbit woman who brought the dwarf a steaming bowl of stew looked horrified as if the dwarf would actually eat her instead. Against the odds, he just gave the woman a small nod.

From under her hood she watched the large dwarf. She was simply fascinated by him. The dwarf was very focused on his bowl of stew and a mug of ale, so she watched him more carefully. It seemed that he had various tattoos and that made her more curious since she bore a couple herself. Now she could also see the large scar crossing his face starting from above the eyebrow and ending up right below the jawbone. Everything in him screamed warrior.

She did not know how long she watched the dwarf sitting there, drinking multiple ales. She found herself wondering about him. Insignificant things, like what was his business here and why was he travelling alone? Gwen reached to look out of the window again and since she had been sitting on the tavern several hours now, she thought that she could just as well go and find the 'Bag-End'. The mysterious dwarf didn't raise his gaze from his bowl when she passed, but little did she know he did indeed give a long curious gaze after her.