2. Run, Little Boy
As promised, Ivy had taken the second watch. After much coaxing from her, Frodo allowed himself to doze off, but she could tell that his sleep was restless and light. The hobbits had somewhat calmed down when Aragorn had made the claim to be a friend of Gandalf's. A lie that not many would dare utter, so Ivy was more inclined to believe him.
The nazgul were long gone and the Prancing Pony was eerily silent. A part of the woman wished to confirm that the innkeeper was still alive, that anyone was still alive. Did those hooded monsters slaughter everyone in their rampage? She lowered her eyes, praying to the Valar that the little hobbits hadn't brought death and ruin to the innocents, even by accident.
That's all last night had been really, an accident. A large, ironic twist of faith that gathered the right people in the right place, at the right time – that's what brought them together. She didn't want to know what could've happened to Middle-Earth, to those jolly little hobbits had they not been at the Prancing Pony with Strider.
They'd be dead, she concluded, and the One Ring would be heading back to its master at this very moment.
With a dagger still firmly in her fist, she finally decided that it was solitary and safe enough to open the letter she had received just before arriving to Bree.
Ivy trotted silently across the room to her leather coat and fetched the letter from the pocket, using this chance to stir the embers a little to keep the fire going. She cast a glance at Strider who seemed to be asleep, and not faking it, a strange display of trust that she appreciated.
There was still a little time before she'd have to break their slumber. The woman smirked a little at the sight of him gripping the hilt of his sword. Never wake a warrior by touch or you just might lose a limb, or your life.
She headed back to the chair by the window, casting another wary look outside to make sure that it truly was safe before breaking the seal. This was news from one of her southern brethren.
Her heart leapt in joy to hear that her dear friend was alive, but with each line the creases between her brows deepened. One piece of news more unsettling than the other – it felt like she was in possession of all pieces of truth, but was lacking the key particle to put it all together.
Orcs were spotted in the south, heading to Isengard, but not under banners of war and a sighting of one of the great eagles heading to Orthanc and back again. The white wizard, an ally lived there, that much she knew.
Were the orcs sent there to parlay with him or were they under that guise just to assassinate the old man? Ivy bit back a smirk. Those foolish orcs, provoking the ire of a warlock is quite possibly one of the most foolish things to do.
The woman read the letter once more, memorising every word before heading to the fire and destroying the evidence. She scrutinised every piece until it was all turned to ashes.
Sending letters was too risky, too many chances of recon information falling to the wrong hands, but she was in no position to make any changes. Secrecy was their protection from the world. They had no known habitat and the exact number of members was unknown.
The Nameless Ones – they were no one, they appeared when necessary and corrected what was amiss. She was no one, though she used to be someone. A simple peasant girl, homeless and starving in the forest…Ivy supressed the resurfacing memories with a shake of her head.
Now was not the time to ponder about what used to be, and it was indeed a long time ago. She returned the gleaming dagger to its proper place before heading over to the hobbits. She shook them as gently as possible.
"Little hobbits, it's time to wake up. We must move." Her voice smooth as honey as she beckoned them to return from their sweet and warm dreams.
Frodo seemed to be the only one of the four who had no problem waking up. On the contrary, it seemed like he was glad to see the faint light of dawn peeking over the treetops. The rest were still grumbling and rubbing sleep from their eyes, their curly hair looking even more disarrayed than the night before.
"Strider." called Ivy, deciding that it was the safest course to take.
It was all the prompting Aragorn needed to be jostled out of his dreams. He was up at a moment's notice, gathering his things and getting dressed. Ivy observed his graceful, measured movements for a moment before reporting,
"Everything has been quiet. I think they left Bree for now, but I cannot say for how long or how far they went."
Or if they will return. They were safer during the day, but now that the wraiths knew that the ring was near, even daylight won't save them.
Aragorn nodded curtly.
"Stay here, we'll need provisions. We'll depart as soon as I'm back."
He was almost out the door when Ivy called out to him, throwing a small coin purse at the man who caught it easily from the air.
"Split the cost between us. I don't think that ponies come so cheap that a mere ranger can pay for it all."
He hesitated for a few seconds, but something in the hawk-like eyes of this woman forced him to swallow his pride and accept this silver. Ivy may be a woman, but she refused to be coddled and treated as one. Strider closed the door behind him, leaving Ivy alone to deal with the sleepy hobbits.
She turned around and supressed a groan – this will require some much loathed mothering.
"Come on now!"
She clapped her hands loudly, waking up Pippin who had hoped to sneakily fall asleep again.
"You heard the man. Get dressed and dine, or you'll be departing without breakfast!"
The notion of a full stomach seemed to be higher in the hobbits' list of priorities and they were all swiftly out of bed and dressed, pattering around with their impressively hairy feet.
"Do hobbits ever wear shoes?" She asked no one in particular.
Sam was the first to pipe in an answer.
"Never heard of a respectable hobbit to constrict his feet as such."
The rest agreed in a unanimous hum, drawing only a look of confusion from the woman. It was soon washed away as she freshened up near the water basin, splashing cold water on her face to wipe away the last remnants of sleep from her eyes before joining the hobbits for breakfast consisting of nothing but the same cold bread from last night.
Cold bread was better than no bread in a hobbit's book, but Samwise did promise Ivy that the first chance they get he's going to demonstrate exactly what good food is. Judging by the size of his backpack and the frying pan hanging from the side, he was the most proficient cook in the group. They all dreamed of a proper breakfast of crispy bacon, thick juicy sausages and poached eggs to top it all off.
Their conversation was polite, with Ivy inquiring about the Shire. It was met with a long rant from Merry and Pippin who poured her over with Shire intrigues, sharing the recent story of how they had stolen a huge firework from the grey wizard that had transformed into a spark-breathing dragon, drawing a genuine laugh from Ivy.
"Stealing from a wizard? My-my aren't you bold."
Pippin snorted.
"We were just borrowing. It's the Sackville-Bagginses I'm more worried about, especially now that both Frodo and Bilbo are gone."
The woman didn't know just who they were talking about, but it seemed to be a distant relative of Frodo's for he finally joined in the banter.
"Remember when uncle Bilbo came back from his travels to find them auctioning off his possessions?"
It gladdened Ivy to see that there were some smiles still left in this little man. Hobbits were small, frail even in her eyes – they were not bred and readied for war yet now they were escaping from the nine.
For some reason it saddened her, but offered some amusement. The wraiths can't be that frightening if four adorable hobbits have managed to outwit them for so long, can they? But the thought rang hollow in her mind compared to the icy fear she had felt in the pit of her stomach last night when she listened to the otherworldly howling. Ivy forced the negative thoughts out of her mind, but her appetite had all but disappeared.
It wasn't long before Strider returned to them.
"Quick now."
He ushered them out of the inn and out of the village gates, or what was left of them to be precise. The wooden gates had been run down to the ground, no doubt just one of the signs of the ring wraiths' visit to Bree.
Aragorn had bought a pony and enough provisions to last them for two weeks, though Ivy was hoping that they would make it to Rivendell a little faster than that. The faster they cleared the open ground the better.
Their departure from Bree had been, luckily, uneventful. The group managed to slip out before the first proper light of day and were under the protection of the woods in less than an hour. Ivy welcomed the familiar smell of moss and dirt and the scrambling of small animals or the chirping of birds.
This was life and familiar to her. The forest rarely made her feel uneasy, instead she felt safe between the trees. Aragorn was leading the column, the four hobbits trailing behind him with Sam being in charge of the pony, and finally Ivy was left to guard the rear. She noticed, with much glee, that Sam had quickly formed a friendship with the adorable animal.
The ranger moved ahead of them, slightly crouched like a man who wasn't just used to the wilderness. He was a part of his surroundings. It didn't escape her notice how he angled his feet while walking, careful not to leave any trails behind, how he sniffed the air for clues like a dog in search of prey.
"Where are you taking us?" called out Frodo, the voice of reason.
It surprised the Nameless that it had taken the hobbits this long to question their destination, blindly following two strangers into the forest. Aragorn's stern, yet quiet response proved utterly cryptic,
"Into the wild."
The wide eyed hobbits merely scuffled after him, trying to keep up with the man's pace, casting looks over their shoulders every now and then, as if to make sure that the woman was still there. He towered over Ivy; she didn't even want to imagine how long his strides must be compared to the hobbits'.
Merry hurried close to Frodo and the woman sharpened her ears to hear what they were conspiring.
"How can we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf's?"
"I think a servant of the enemy would look fairer, but feel fouler." He reasoned with the utmost seriousness.
"He's foul enough." Muttered the red haired hobbit, their discussion causing Ivy to chortle in the back of the column.
Their standards for good and evil were marvellous. Aragorn barely reacted; the only sign that he even took notice of this conversation was a slight tilt of his head, caught only by Ivy's icy eyes.
"We have no choice but to trust him." Was Frodo's final decision and he quickened his pace, determined to reach whatever destination this stranger had in mind.
This only drew an exasperated sigh from Merry, who saw no other choice but to follow.
"But where is he leading us?" asked Sam, still unsettled that they hadn't received a straight answer.
It would ease his heart and worries if he knew where Frodo was headed. After all, Samwise wished to honour his promise to Gandalf to keep Frodo safe – partially out of loyalty, the other half was his fear of the wizard's possible wrath.
"Rivendell, Master Gamgee," answered Aragorn, startling the hobbits who just now realised that Strider most likely caught the entirety of their exchange "to the House of Elrond."
The excitement of this revelation was imminent among the hobbits, but most excited of all was Sam.
"Rivendell? We're going to see the elves!" He whispered to his companions.
Ivy had to admit that she was excited as well, but, unlike the hobbits, it wasn't because of the elves. She was looking forward to a place where one could truly feel safe. If they could just cross the borders to lord Elrond's domain…They just need to reach the borders.
Truth be told she found elves unsettling. They practically glided through life, perfect at everything they do, unaffected by anything and everything except for beauty. Something about that felt unnatural, or perhaps it was jealousy that humans will always be inferior. After all, an elf might have a thousand years of practice in swordplay while Ivy wasn't sure if hers would even take up half of her lifespan.
They were making generous progress, and Ivy was pleased that the first several hours of their trip was tranquil, the most tragic event being when Pippin stumbled upon a tree root and nearly fell face-first to the forest floor, had it not been for Frodo's quick reflexes.
It baffled Ivy when she noticed the hobbits halting the pony, ready to make camp before midday. She walked past them, a look of confusion imminent in her eyes. Aragorn heard the ruckus and turned around, his eyebrow raised.
"Gentlemen," all four hobbits looked at him in unison "we do not stop 'till nightfall." He declared, the man's tone leaving no room for argument.
Pippin was the first to argue, holding a pan in his right hand.
"What about breakfast?" He asked, completely baffled by this revelation.
Ivy turned around, hands behind her back.
"You already had one?"
It was bewildering how little they seemed to understand the gravity of this situation. They were unarmed, on open terrain with no protection to speak of.
The little hobbit had to bite back a snort.
"We've had one, yes, what about second breakfast?" He asked with a smug smile.
Ivy rolled her eyes, smiling, scouting forward. Aragorn can deal with this one. He seemed just as taken aback as the foreign woman and followed her through the bushes.
His eyes caught sight of her looking through her bag and with a wide smirk she pulled out a few apples from her bag, throwing two of them to Aragorn.
"This should be enough, ay?" She asked the man gleefully before throwing to apples over her head, hoping that they reached the hobbits around the bush.
This was the first time she noticed something akin to a smile cross the ranger's face before he followed suit. They slowed their pace a little to allow the hobbits a chance to catch up while they packed their utensils.
The rest of the journey was not all that pleasant. The little maze of bushes ran out soon and they came face to face with a wet, smelly disgusting bog. Ivy already smelt the rot and heard the loud buzzing of flies, biting back complaints about the road ahead. The poor hobbits struggled through the deep and treacherous marshes, slapping away the flies helplessly, and this carried on well into the night.
It wasn't until midday that they finally were out of the wetlands and scouting the plains. The lack of cover was unsettling to all travellers, but it was a necessary evil. Aragorn seemed to be deliberately leading them to a broken heirloom, an ancient fortress, now long fallen into ruin and calling it a ruin was putting it mildly, there was scantly anything left of the building.
"Well, that thing's about to topple over." quipped Pippin, slightly grimacing at the structure.
"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl…"
Aragorn looked up to the now broken fortress, almost longingly, as if it could bring back the lost days. He broke his gaze and train of thought and cast a look over his shoulder.
"We shall rest here tonight."
The company followed in silence, the hobbits were ready to drop dead from all this walking. The Shire folk wasn't used to days and days of travel. By the time they reached the top of what was left of the old watchtower, the halflings were completely drained and all fell down to the ground, almost in sync, glad to finally get some rest and well-earned supper.
Aragorn looked around, his heart was unsettled. Ivy cast just one look above before instinctively drawing her hood, feeling a sudden chill despite the setting sun spreading some warmth to their loins.
"Those clouds aren't natural. They're too dark." She whispered to Strider, careful not to alert the hobbits.
No use to have them worrying.
"I shall go and have a look around, scout ahead to make sure they haven't cut us off." She offered, determined not be cornered up there like an animal.
The ranger eyed her, and Ivy accepted the calm challenge head on.
"You still don't trust me? Or is it the brotherhood that you don't trust?"
It wasn't uncommon for men to despise the Nameless Ones. They answered to no one but their own and in their ranks man and woman were equal. Back when the order, or brotherhood, was formed they functioned as assassins, taking out some of Sauron's key generals. In times of peace they remained as swords to hire before retreating to the position of watchers.
Now their numbers had somewhat decreased and their function was hazy. Each member acted on their own sense of duty, correcting wrongs where possible, attempting to better the world and the flow of things. Ivy had never met all of them, but she had heard that there even was a dwarven Nameless, who made sure that trade and economy were balanced, a task which required significantly more than a sharp blade.
Strider offered a consoling smile.
"It is not your association that worries me, but your safety, lady Ivy."
She felt a grin spread across her face, one that could vex a more impatient man.
"If that is all then I will take my temporary leave. If I don't return before the morn then you know that you must find another way."
The Nameless didn't need coddling, even though the sentiment was appreciated by her. At least it wasn't outright distrust that stayed Aragorn, but merely his gentleness. She had been trained like any other, the only exception being that her swordplay was focused on speed rather than physical strength.
Aragorn watched as this stranger, whose tongue was as sharp as her features, stalked away soundlessly.
"Leave some supper for me as well!"
She warned the hobbits before disappearing down the stairs. Something in Strider's heart told him that the woman will be back. She was unlike most ladies that he had met – didn't shy away from gutting an animal, hadn't uttered one complaint about their travel conditions and proved to possess keen eyes and sharp wits, although he had yet to see her in action.
"Where did Ivy go?" asked Frodo, his eyes questioning "Has she abandoned us?"
"To make sure the way ahead is clear. I need to have a look around, stay here." He ordered the hobbits.
A quick run around the old watchtower rendered him with 4 small blades, or perhaps oversized daggers, but they were perfect in size for a hobbit. He dropped all four of them to the doe eyed halflings who were gazing the faded blades with curiosity.
"Stay here!" he ordered them.
This wouldn't replace the presence of two warriors, but it was a better option than leaving them defenceless. If they were quiet and lucky, no harm would come to them at all.
Aragorn looked upon them once more before following Ivy down the stairs. By now the woman must've been far away from the tower. He silently prayed for her swift return, and his.
It wasn't until several hours later that Ivy turned back. The surrounding plains of the Weathertop were covered by a thick mist, much to her pleasure. It made it much easier to slip back to…
Her heart dropped when she saw the beckoning gleam of a fire on top of the tower and sudden panic overtook her. The Nameless pulled up her hood, quietly cursing every god that she knew and broke into a run when she heard the familiar screams.
The sound of it nearly made her drop down on the grass as the woman covered her ears at the inhuman noise. Each howl made her courage falter just a little, but the weight of Frodo's burden kept her going.
'This can't be my contribution to the world. I am the Nameless One, I am no one, I'm supposed to better this cursed world, not let it fall to bloody ruin under my watch!' She wanted to scream those words into the night.
'How many? Where's Strider? Are they even alive?' – Those three questions kept ringing again and again in her head as she ran as fast as she could.
The wraiths wouldn't be expecting her, oh no, they will go straight to the light. Her feet hurt from the pounding. Fire, she needed fire, but there was no place to get it now. Ivy bit her lip as she kept on sprinting to the watchtower.
'I will shield them with just my flesh if that's what it takes.'
It felt like centuries before she reached the stairs, scaling them like never before, taking three steps at a time. Ivy unsheathed her sword, steeling her nerves. If this was the end, then she will make it one worth remembering.
She heard panting, steps behind her and her eyes caught glimpse of a torch. The ranger was alive! Her heart rejoiced and her limbs were filled with new vigour, the sight of the dancing flame waking up something inside of her.
Cold fear overtook her when she heard the unmistakeable scream of a hobbit just as she reached the top of the stairs and with thought she shouted a battle cry before lunging at the ringwraith with her entire weight, kicking the wretched creature away.
The hobbits looked terrified, scattered about with only Frodo behind her, but it was enough. She couldn't see him, no doubt the fool had worn the ring in panic, but she could still hear him.
Ivy stood with her teeth bared.
"Don't you even dare touch him you foul wretched thing!"
It was all she had the chance to scream before challenged into a duel by one of the five wraiths present there. She met the blows, startled by the raw strength behind them, but she did not allow the wraith to move her, standing firmly in its way so it couldn't get to Frodo. Slashing at anything she could reach – face, hands, legs, anything to throw the creature away from Frodo.
Ivy's heart was beating, blood rushing through her ears as the ranger joined the fray, taking her side, his blade flashing furiously and lighting one of the wraiths in flames. The clothed figure lit up like a torch and with their joined skills they managed to draw the wraiths away. Ivy only heard Samwise call out Frodo's name and rushed past them, to help his master. They couldn't let the halflings distract them, one mistake and they'd all be dead.
It was adrenaline that kept her going and they were clearly gaining the upper hand. With a kick of her foot she managed to send one of the wraiths over the edge and toppling down.
Fire seemed to panic them, disarray their ranks and blind them even further as their attacks were uncoordinated and the wraith in flames managed to run into another, promptly setting him blazing up in a matter of seconds.
They escaped, leaving only one of them behind, but Aragorn sensed the wraiths presence and turned around, impressively throwing the torch right into the hood of the wraith. It embedded deep into the faceless pit, lighting up the undead and drawing several screams from it before it followed the rest and escaped.
Ivy glanced around quickly before she was certain that this was it. She was alive…She had survived five ringwraiths in the middle of the night. Her daydream's shattered when her ear's caught Aragorn's words,
"He's been stabbed by a morgul blade…"
The woman whipped around sharply.
"Frodo needs elven medicine, now. The way ahead was clear but now…" Her voice trailed off helplessly.
Aragorn shook off the doubts that were creeping up on him and he easily lifted Frodo over his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes.
They hurried across the plains into the woods, the shadow functioning as their shield and cover while they were still surrounded by the recognisable and agitated screams of the wraiths.
So much for scouting ahead…Ivy cursed her eagerness; she should've stayed with the hobbits. They would've never drawn attention to them had she been there to refuse their little cook fire.
"We're six days from Rivendell! He'll never make it!" shouted poor Sam, jogging and dragging his precious pony with their provisions and supplies.
Ivy knew that he was right, but this fact proved irrelevant in her books. No one in this company will allow Frodo to die under their watch. They will come out of this alive, all six of them.
"Less talking, more running!" She urged the hobbits onwards, knowing very well that they might just collapse.
Her body convulsed at the slightest movement in the shadows, her hand instinctively ready to draw her sword. The darkness was deceiving her and playing with their senses. This was quite possibly, hell.
They kept on pressing forward, pushing their bodies to the limits until they reached, what seemed to be three huge statues of trolls looming over them. Their presence was nothing short of unsettling, even if they were made of stone.
The hobbits seemed to recognise those statues from a familiar tale of Frodo's uncle. Aragorn called over Sam, leaving Merry, Pippin and Frodo to Ivy's care who was already on her knees and trying to heat up Frodo.
"He's going cold…" She muttered, wrapping the halfling in her leather coat in a futile attempt to keep him even slightly warmer.
Aragorn rushed off to Valar knows where, with Sam at his tails. Ivy's heart calmed significantly when they returned and she nearly tripped over her feet and backed away from Frodo as her eyes widened.
It was a dark haired elven woman, more beautiful than anyone that Ivy had ever witnessed. Even in travel gear this elf looked regal, her hair braided with the delicacy of nimble elven fingers.
She rode to the astride a strong and muscular mare, her presence seemingly lifting the darkness around them. The air was suddenly easier to breathe and for the first time in days, Ivy felt some sort of peace take over her.
The woman knelt down to Frodo, softly spoken elven words falling from her lips, the foreign language sounding melodious and a lot like song to her. The hobbit's breaths were reduced to desperate rasps, only aggravated further as Strider returned to his side, spreading some sort of herbal paste on the wound that was taking a corpse-like discolouration.
"He's not going to make it, we must get him to my father." Was her firm decision.
They exchanged quick yet desperate words with Aragorn, who helped Frodo on top of the beautiful horse. Neither Ivy nor the hobbits could understand the elven tongue, but she did hear her final words, firm and resolute.
"I do not fear them."
Aragorn gripped her hand, his heart aching both in longing and fear for her safety. The wraiths will team up and they will go after her. Aragorn stepped back, there was no time for further arguing, and he trusted this woman. Trusted her with his heart.
"Ride hard, and don't look back."
Council of Elrond coming up next! I can't wait to start writing the actual quest itself now that Frodo will be safe and sound and the rest of the cast introduced. I can promise you that I won't be updating twice a day henceforth, but I was just missing the last to blocks of this chapter and I was determined to finish it by tonight :) Lots of love to Oakenshield's star for another lovely edit to make this chapter much easier to read!
Yours truly,
cm
