Chapter One: The Prancing Pony
The roar coming from the pub at the inn was nearly deafening. It was all the worse, for Whisper didn't like crowds. They made her nervous, edgy. She sat in a corner, an uneaten platter of bread and cheese in front of her, the hood of her weather-worn cloak pulled low over her face, shielding her eyes from others. She wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the request.
"Request," she thought. "More like orders." But she loved the old wizard. It was he who convinced Strider to keep her on, so many years ago. She smiled a little at the memory; Rivendell, almost twenty years ago, just a year after Strider had saved her. She wouldn't speak to anyone, save Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and of course, Strider. To Elron and the wizard, she would hardly raise her voice, earning her the name 'Whisper'. She remembered the council that Gandalf and Elron had with Strider while she sat in a chair, trembling slightly.
"She doesn't speak to a soul outside of this room," Gandalf told Strider, who had his arms folded in a worried gesture.
"And even then, she only really speaks to you," Elrond pointed out. He sat in a high-backed chair, his long fingers laced together against his lip.
"What would you have me do?" Strider asked in a low voice, his blue-green eyes shifting to the girl. "She has a better chance here than in any village I know. She can learn here."
Elron nodded. "Iliana is a brilliant child, but she cannot flourish here." He arched a pointed eyebrow, as if the answer should be obvious.
Strider stared at the girl he had rescued. He had come to love her as his little sister, despite that he could only visit Rivendell for short periods.
Gandalf stared at him, a smile hidden behind his bushy beard. "You could," he began slowly, "take her with you," When Strider looked to him, he continued. "You could teach her all you know, and she might even be able to help you."
At his suggestion, Iliana had leapt from the chair, her emerald eyes shining.
Movement caught her eye, bringing Whisper from her memories. Four small men had just sat down at a table a few yards from her, their cloaks soaked from the downpour going on outside. The owner quickly brought them mugs that seemed far too big for their little hands, and three of them sat to their meal.
The fourth, Whisper noticed, didn't touch his ale or the bread. In fact, he seemed restless, his eyes shifting around every few minutes, as if searching for someone. After a little while, he settled back in his chair. The Hobbit across from him, a portly man with sandy hair, kept twisting around in his chair to look at the door.
"Don't worry, Sam," the first Hobbit, his curly dark hair starting to dry from the rain. "He'll be here."
Hours passed, and neither the Hobbits or Whisper moved.
Sam, the sandy-haired Hobbit, spoke around a mouthful of bread. "That fellow has done nothing but stare at you since we arrived."
The dark haired one glanced to where Sam was nodding, and Whisper tensed. The inn owner walked by, and the Hobbit 'Underhill' stopped him. "That Man in the corner," he said, "who is he?"
The innkeeper looked, and his eyes grew wide. "He's one of them Rangers," he said in a low voice that Whisper heard clearly. "They're dangerous folk, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard, but 'round here he's known as Strider." With that, he moved away.
Whisper saw the Hobbit mumbling something, then was still, his eyes closed. He stayed that way for a long while, and Whisper could see his eyes shifting below their lids.
"Baggins?" came the voice of one of the other Hobbits who was sitting at the bar. "Sure, I know a Baggins. He's right there, Frodo Baggins!"
The dark-haired Hobbit's eyes flew open, and he darted to the bar. Whisper looked to Strider, who was standing. She quickly darted to the stairs, hearing Frodo shout "Pippin!" She glanced over her shoulder with just enough time to see Frodo fall, and then disappear altogether.
"Go!" Strider hissed to Whisper, and she quickly ran up to the room they had procured from the owner. The fire was lit, as were several candles. She checked every corner, making certain there was no one else there. As she finished her sweep, Strider burst in with Frodo, his hood still hiding his face.
"What do you want?" Frodo ordered, standing near the fire, his blue eyes wide.
Strider glanced at him as he moved to put out the candles. "A little more caution from you. That is no trinket you carry." His voice was low.
Frodo's face paled slightly. "I carry nothing."
"Indeed," Striper replied sarcastically as Whisper put out the fire. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely," he smirked as he slipped his hood down to look Frodo in the eye, "that is a rare gift."
Frodo took a step back. "Who are you?"
"Are you frightened?" Whisper asked from behind him, causing him to jump.
"Yes," he admitted.
"Not nearly frightened enough," Strider insisted. "I know what hunts you."
A sudden clamor in the halls caused Strider to whip around, sword drawn. Whisper also drew her sword, pulling Frodo against her to protect him; he came just above her waist.
The three Hobbits who arrived with Frodo burst into the room, Sam with his fists raised, one of the others with a stool, and the last with a candelabrum.
"Let him go!" Sam demanded fiercely. "Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"
Whisper released Frodo and sheathed her sword as Strider relaxed his stance, a small smile on his face. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that will not save you." He sheathed his sword as Sam slowly lowered his fists.
Strider turned to Frodo. "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo." He moved closer to him. "They're coming."
Frodo's eyes grew wide, and the other three paled.
Strider and Whisper sat at the darkened window, staring out into the wet night. The four Hobbits were asleep; possibly the last comfortable sleep they'll get.
"We're taking them to Rivendell?" Whisper inquired in a low voice, her emerald eyes searching the streets.
"Aye," Strider said. "It's the safest place for them now."
The sudden piercing shriek of the Wraiths caused the Hobbits to wake with a start.
"What are they?" Frodo asked, his eyes boring into Strider, who gazed at the inn across the street. At the room directly across from theirs, the Wraiths continued their shrieking.
Strider turned from the window, his voice sad. "They were once Men. Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blind to their greed, they took them without question. One by one, falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will." He glanced into the streets to see the Nine mounting their black steeds and tearing off, vanishing into the night. "They are the Nazgul. Ringwraiths. Neither living nor dear. At all times, they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."
The six of them hurried through the wilderness, both Strider and Whisper leading their horses. Strider lead the group, his hood drawn always, while Whisper brought up the end. The weather neither hindered nor helped them.
One night, as Strider was hunting for their dinner and Merry and Pippin prepared the fire, Frodo sat near Whisper, who was keeping watch, her bow across her lap.
"What is your relation to Strider?" Frodo asked quietly. Whisper glanced at him but said nothing. "Are you his wife?"
The idea of her marriage to Strider was so ridiculous it brought a smile to her lips. "No, little one," she finally answered. "He saved me from Trolls when I was a child. He has been my mentor and friend ever since." She looked at him, her eyes soft. "He is an older brother to me, the only family I've got in this empty World. Where he goes, I go." She said no more, merely turning back to her watch. She felt Frodo's eyes on her for a little longer, then she felt him move.
The whistling signal announced Strider's return, a small boar draped over his shoulder. The Hobbits prepared the meal while Strider cleaned his blade. Throughout the night, Whisper sensed Frodo watching her, as if searching for something.
Author's Note
I will be uploading every Friday (had internet trouble this past Friday, and I apologize). Please leave a review! Thank you!