Hi guys, so here's the next chapter. I hope you like it.

Chapter 3

Not Afraid

Fearwynn

Where did I end up? That question bothered my mind since I woke up in that shaggy dark forest two weeks ago. I was done with constantly asking the two guys that found me what had happened, because they ensured me, in their pretty old-fashioned way, that they knew nothing of it. They just found me, no trace of someone bringing me there and no trace from where I came from. Assuming the next city was a few day marches away my questions would be unanswered for some time.

What had caught me on surprise was that my coughing fits had stopped. I had hardly coughed at all within the last 14 days here in the woods. Of course I had to cough once or twice but that even happened to normal, healthy people.

I chuckled sarcastically "healthy people", surely I couldn't be added to them. The word healthy had been deleted from my vocabulary a long time ago. I'd never been able to live like others my age, never being able to do what was normal in my age. No matter where I went, as soon as people learned about my illness, I was kind of an abnormality that needed to be avoided.

My thought travelled back to brighter, carefree times. Times were our now dysfunctional family slept in tents during the summer. Back then summer had been our favorite season. Not only because the temperatures where warm and cozy, but also because it was the time that little renaissance fairs spread over the whole country. We had been part of the community that stayed at such markets and pretended to be people of the mid ages, knights, farmers, Landlords and others. My mother had always been the tailor, and my father, the knight in shining armor, had met her like this for the first time many years before my sister and I had been born on a renaissance fair near Münster.

The following years we had been on various of those fairs and Gwyn and I had practically been raised up in two worlds at once, the modern world with all its technology and the medieval one where life itself was a challenge. We learned to build our own bows and to use them, also our father had taught us how to use a swords and daggers. Gwyn had always preferred to fight out of a shelter, from the distance. Thus the bow or in a face to face combat the longsword had been her favorite. I on the other hand wasn't too aware of danger back then and always preferred to look my opponent right into the eye. Thus the short sword or the daggers had been my favorite weapons. When I was close to someone, facing him, I could see what he was planning, I could see what they were doing before they really acted, so I could dodge them or land my hit first.

That was the reason why I hated my disease this much. It attacked you from your backside, secretly and conniving so that there was no chance of security, no chance of defense. No shield, no sword and no dagger was a good use against it, when it extended its grip on you.

"Lord Aragorn has been gone for several days now. I wonder what quest Gandalf gave him.", Deorhain murmured while he was preparing two rabbits over the campfire.

"Maybe he was held back in Rivendell. It is said, that his eyes fell on Lord Elronds daughter." Erebor snickered and earned a quick blow at the back of his head from Deorhain. But the elder man still smiled while Erebor rubbed the place where he had been hit and I couldn't stop snickering myself at the sight of the two men. It kind of reminded me of a grandfather and his grandson.

"You shouldn't listen to everything others say. It's better to see things with your own eyes."

The way Deorhain spoke those word immediately reminded me of Hubertus, one of the "Elders" how they were called on some fairs. Hubertus had been kind of a magician. He knew how to find certain herbs and to gain a healing effect from the mixture of them. But he also was good for storytelling at the campfire. After the sun had set he had always gathered all children around the campfire and told stories of brave knights and of beautiful young princesses. I, however had always preferred the stories about brave young maids that knew how to defend themselves and earned their respects for that. And of course they always found a knight in shining armor to love.

I had been young and naïve. Back then I had not known how the whole love thing went, not to speak that I didn't know that I would never be allowed to love.

For that I envied my sister. No matter how her life turned out, she always had the chance to love and be loved in return. She had always had the chance of a family of her own. The possibility to make her own family better than the one she had been born into. She had the chance to have a man that loved her, children to be a role model for and tell stories to. Every time that I had looked into her eyes for the past years, I had seen the life that would always be off limit for me and I tore me apart. I had to admit, that this illness had exacerbated me so much that I almost hated my sister for her supposed perfect and healthy life. She had the Job that she loved, a hobby and friends with whom to share everything. She had everything that I had ever wished for.

"What's got you so depressed Fearwynn?" I flinched a bit when I suddenly realized Erebor sitting right beside me and it took a few seconds for me to answer him.

"Nothing.", I lied. I doubted that he would understand me. He wouldn't understand that I hated my own sister for being healthy and happy. He'd take me for a monster. "I was just wondering what's going to happen next." He looked at me skeptical and I knew, that even here, wherever here was, I wasn't a good liar. To my utter surprise though, he let it go and didn't ask any further.

It irritated me a little bit. I wasn't used to just getting through with such an obvious lie. Back home my mother would constantly bother me with her questions, until I'd give in and tell her what really was wrong with me. I just had to sniff or chance my expression and she'd jump up expecting me to get sick again. She was overprotective of me, and a part of me understood why. Another part, the impatient part of me, had shouted at her several times for putting me in this cage of feathers. I didn't like being handles with kind gloves, in fact I hated it, and whenever I told my mother she would burst out in tears. My mother crying because of me? This was a thing I couldn't stand.

Lost in those kind of thoughts I watches the crackling fire and its flickering flames burning down every single log that Erebor and I had picked up from the floor earlier. I listened to the prickle, that was caused by the microscopic explosions of heated water within the woods bark, and let my thought travel on to the time where I had last sat in front of a campfire.

It had been a few month prior to the divorce of our parents. With an altogether hiking and camping trip they had started a last attempt at knitting our family back together the way it had been before my AIDS had been diagnosed. Of course neither of us really believed in the possibility of ever being the normal family again, but it was worth the try anyway, at least that was what we all had thought. Gwyn and me tried to stay as normal as we could, but our parents couldn't. My father tried hard not to speak a single word with me, and my mother didn't let me do normal things as preparing meal or setting up the tent with Gwyn. We had spent a whole weekend just my father and Gwyn, gathering wood and even hunting rabbits, while our mother cooked and I just lay in my tent reading, not being allowed to do anything that could get me sick or injured. Just at mealtimes we sat together eating in an awful silence.

"Who's Aragorn?", I whispered to Erebor, afraid that he would laugh at me. He smiled at me in a way that so much reminded me of a young boy being questioned about his number one role model, that I just had to smile too.

"Aragorn is one of us. In a way, he's our leader. When I say we, I mean every Ranger between the gulf of lune and the misty mountains. He's still relatively young, compared to some elders, in fact he's just some years older than I am, but he gained the respect of the elders and so he leads us." he explained euphorically and the way Erebor described this man, I pictured him to be a extraordinary man with an aura of strength and security, someone that pulled you under his spell immediately.

"And what does it mean to be one of the Rangers? What do you have to do?" I asked interested. I had never heard something about Rangers, at least not rangers like he described them. Now it was Erebors turn to stare into the fire, picking his words carefully.

"We make sure the roads are safe for hikers. That they are free from thieves or others that may attack the good people of this lands." he murmured slowly and I realized that though he seemed to be telling the truth, he wasn't telling me all of it.

Before I could ask him further though, we were interrupted by the sound of a galloping horse, approaching our position. Immediately Erebor put out the fire and motioned for me to be quiet. As soon as the light of the fire was gone it was pitch black and my eyes tried hard to adjust to this new darkness. I was blind. The only thing that indicated that we were in danger was the grinding sound of Deorhain and Erebor dragging their swords slowly. So I grabbed under my dress to drag my own daggers for the first time since I had realized them within my shoes two weeks ago. It felt strange having weapons in my hands again and I was afraid that I forgot how to use them in my years without any practice.

The sound of hoofs approaching us grew louder and louder warning us, that who ever that was, really headed our way. I felt my body stiffen, adrenalin pumping through my veins causing a slight tickling sensation in my whole body. Suddenly I was aware of every part of my body. I felt my hands clutching to the daggers, my feet searching for grip within the wet forest floor.

My body trembled with anxiety. It had been over 19 years that I last had daggers in my hands and back then it had only been showfights with blunted points, never a serious fight where you really had to defend yourself.

And Erebors deep but flat breathing told me, that this could be everything but a showfight. He was as tense as I was, perhaps even more. Then, just centimeters away from our position, the horse dashed down the road, without taking a notice of us. The high, unnatural shriek that followed short after was something I had never heared before, but the feeling that creeped up inside of me was familiar: Hopelessness. Immediately my throat felt constricted and my breathing quickened up in fear.

"What was that?", I asked when I finally regained my composure after some time.

"What do you think it was? What does your feeling tell you?" Deorhain asked alsmost like I was a child and I had to experience it myself. Erebor rolled his eyes and started to open his moth to give me a explanation but I held up my hand. I didn't want him to just present me the answer. If Deorhain thought I would be able to find it our myself, then I would at least try. I had enough of everyone giving me what I needed. I was tired of not being able to work for it. And even if this was just a question, I wanted to work for it. I went back to the moment when I first heared the sound of the thing coming closer. I remembered the hopelessness creeping up, the fear that imminent in all of us. And I remembered what I saw when the horse dashed across us.

"It was a Black rider on a Black horse." I said as conclusion and Deorhain nodded, but I could see that this was not all there was to say about those riders and their horses. "But the shriek, I never heared anything like it. I can't tell what kind of animal that was …"

"Ringwraith", horrified I turned around quickly. Upon rotation, I pulled out my daggers in reflex and they clanked against a sword as I stopped. I heard Erebor and Deorhain holding their breaths as I looked into a pair of greyish eyes. The man that held his sword against my daggers was taller than me, his messy dark hair hanging down to his shoulders, his clothes more than worn. In fact, he kind of scared me.

"Sharp weapons, for a lady like yourself.", he snickered and looked at my daggers not moving his sword. I shot a glance at Erebor and Deorhain who just stood beside us flabbergasted. Why weren't they supporting me, saving me from this man?

"They're sharp and I know how to wield them, my lord." I emphasized the last words looking him in the eyes challengingly. It was hard to withstand his persisting eyes that tried to battle you down just by looking at you. Then, after a short while in which we just stared at each other, Deorhain and Erebor still unable to do anything, the man with the sword started laughing. Deorhain and Erebor joined him with relief but I felt anger creeping up in me. I didn't know what was going on right now and he was still holding up his sword.

"Do you think it wise to laugh at someone with drawn weapons?", I hissed at him through clenched teeth but it only made him laugh harder.

"A woman with a loosened tongue." he said and with a single wave of his swords my daggers flew to the ground. I wasn't able to do a thing against it. "There are few armed women in this lands and even less dare to compete with a man. Tell me your name."

"Isn't it rude for a man not to introduce himself first, especially when he disarmed his opponent?", countered and he looked at me in disbelieve. Seemingly the women he had met weren't as emancipated as they should have been. I tried to withstand his glare but it wasn't easy, even more so because I wasn't sure it was safe to do it. I couldn't chance how I acted though. The adrenalin still rushing through my blood made me rebellious. It was my luck that my opponent seemed to like that.

"People call me Strider.", he said casually, still holding his sword to my face. Strider was definitely not his true name.

"I don't care how people call you. I want to know your true name, before I give you mine." I said causing him to laugh out again. I really didn't understand all of this and it started to really piss me of, especially Deorhain and Erebor. We had hiked through these woods for two weeks now, and all they did was standing there, laughing with the guy that was assaulting me.

"You please me. Even with the threat of death to your throat, you won't think of guarding your tongue."

"I'm happy that my way pleases you my lord, but that still leaves your true name open to me."

"That's Aragorn, son of Arathorn.", Deorhain jumped into our conversation with a slight snicker. I stiffened automatically. This man in front of me should be Aragorn? The leader? I took a second look at him. How could such a shabby, worn out man be the leader of anything?

"Now that you know my name young lady, would you care to give me yours?" he said finally lowering his sword. Assuming there really was no threat I just picked up my daggers, pulling them back into my shoes.

"Fearwynn.", I answered him shortly while handling with my daggers.

"Unfortunately we don't have much time for further explanation. Deorhain, Erebor, I'm traveling to Bree. Gandalf told me to look out for two Hobbits." he told the two men and they nodded thoughtfully as if they knew this was a very important mission. I just looked at them. If this man here really was the leader, who could tell him to do anything? He had the power; shouldn't he be telling people what to do? Who was this Gandalf guy and what in the world were Hobbits?

"This Rider, does it mean what I think it does?", Deorhain asked in a low voice as if someone could overhear us. Aragorn just nodded with a grave look upon his face. This seemed to be deadly serious but I couldn't hold my tongue.

"Still rudeness seems to be your pleasure, Lord Aragorn, speaking in riddles so that not all understand." The three men looked at me surprised as I had my arms akimbo.

"You better go back to where you came from, Lady Fearwynn. This certainly isn't a safe place for a woman like yourself.", Aragorn replied with a slight threat in his voice. This was no option, he tried to order me as if I was one of his men. I didn't like his tone after all but I realized that I was starting so test his patience. He wanted me to go back, but I didn't know how. I was sure, the hospital would certainly be a safer place for me, but part of me had never felt more alive than I had in the past two weeks that I had spent here in the woods with Deorhain and Erebor. None of them held me back from doing what I wanted to, apparently not even when it was for my own good. They allowed me to make my own experiences, my own mistakes.