Josephine felt like the tea Nob brought her hadn't done anything to help, but the hallway between her and the common area was easily likened to an abyss of darkness and shadows. Even to her that sounded dramatic. That didn't mean it didn't bring fear to sit heavily in her chest with a likeness to what she'd felt outside.

She didn't want to stay there though, with a yawning darkness outside the grimy window panes and a chill down her spine. Gathering her resolve she finally made for the door and hurried through the hall.

Aragorn was sitting in the corner booth, same as the last two nights. The bowl of his pipe glowed while his hood darkened his face. Somewhat menacing if she didn't already know him, which she supposed was the point after all.

As she sat down across from him, mostly hidden from the rest of the room unless she leaned over, Nob hurried over with a pint of ale and a plate of meat and cheese. Aragorn must have told him to have it ready.

"How did you know I'd come out?"

"I didn't." He said rather unconvincingly, like he wasn't really concentrating on covering it up.

She'd essentially joined herself to him at the hip since he'd found her, of course she would've eventually followed him to the common room. After the encounter with the Nazgul she realized she'd been craving his security. In lying to her he was only trying to spare her from feeling embarrassed that he'd noticed.

Ravenous out of nowhere she tore through the cheese, finishing it off with a long drink of ale. When she looked back down at her plate there was a new piece sitting there and Aragorn's hand retreated back into the folds of his cloak. He'd snuck it from his own plate.

When he realized he'd been caught he dipped his chin to her with the ghost of a smile. She was about to thank him when a voice slipped over from the bar.

"Underhill! My name's Underhill."
Her head snapped around at the familiar line. The Hobbits had arrived. She watched as they got food and ale, only turning away when Sam met her eyes with a glare. She'd been staring, much like Aragorn was now.

Josephine knew Aragorn had read her expression when Frodo first spoke up. She hoped it helped him believe her story and not just make him more wary.

She retreated from Sam's protective glare and saw Aragorn's mouth press into a thin line.
"Return to the room." He said in a low voice.

Josephine nodded and had to force herself not to stare over her shoulder at the group while she hurried back into the hall. But one she reached the corner she peered around it. Sam was now staring at Aragorn while Merry and Pippin got bigger drinks.

Not wanting to get in Aragorn's way in the coming scuffle she rushed back into the room and started pacing in front of the fire.

It was time, it was happening. The story was starting for real now and the danger was very, very obvious to her after her run in earlier. Her thoughts had been running so fast and encompassing that she jumped when the door burst open and Aragorn threw Frodo to the floor.

"What do you want?!" Frodo cried.

"A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry." Aragorn hissed.

"I carry nothing."
"Indeed." Aragorn pinched out the candles by the window. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift."

He pulled back his hood with a flare for the dramatic that made Josephine forget for a jarring moment that what she was seeing wasn't the movie.

"Who are you?" Frodo eyed them both warily.

Josephine slunk back towards the edge of the room, feeling like an intruder in events that didn't concern her.

"Are you frightened?"

"Yes."
"Not nearly frightened enough, I know what hunts you."

The memory of what she felt in the alley only hours before still chilled her to the bone and the heat off the fire seemed weaker just from his mention of the Nazgul. She couldn't tell if it really was or if she was just imagining things.

But of course, right as planned, the door burst open again and Sam charged in, fists raised to fight Aragorn's drawn sword.

"Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"

Behind him Merry and Pippin brandished candlesticks and chairs.

"You have a stout heart Master Hobbit, but that will not save you." Aragorn sheathed his sword and turned back to Frodo. "You can no longer wait for your wizard Frodo, they are coming."

The Hobbits whispered loudly to each other in the corner of her and Aragorn's room, glancing nervously over their shoulders at them while Aragorn slipped his hood back up.

"Stay here." He told her quietly. "I will not be long. Do not allow the Hobbits to leave, soon even the halls will be unsafe."

And with that he slipped out of the room and four pairs of eyes landed on her. The presence of Aragorn had put them out of sorts and once he was gone their voices rose to a normal tone.

"You're friends with this Strider fellow?" Sam asked bluntly, still in defensive mode.

"I trust him if that's what you're asking." She said, knowing she probably wouldn't be able to put his mind at ease but she could at least avoid adding to his distrust of Aragorn.

"Don't be a grump, Sam." Merry edged his way over to her and held out his hand kindly. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service. And this here is my cousin Peregrin Took."

"At your service." Pippin added. "And that's my second cousin Frodo Bag-" Merry gave Pippin a swift kick to the shin and he corrected. "Underhill. And his gardener Samwise Gamgee."

"Josephine." She added to the end as an afterthought, "At your service."

Looking over the four, though all of them here canonically older than her, she decided quite assuredly that if any one of them (non canonically of course) got hurt, she might just kill whoever was responsible.

Josephine sat sunk into the chair by the fire, chewing on her thumbnail. At the window Aragorn sat smoking, one eye on the dark, the other on her and the Hobbits. She knew she was being obvious, but she couldn't help it. Her entire body felt like it was shaking with uncertainty. Fear she had about being in Middle-Earth was surrounded by the dark screams of the Nazgul she knew were coming. What if they captured her? What if they already knew about her? They'd take her to Isengard, Saruman would get everything out of her for sure. How was she supposed to hold up to a wizard's torture?

Aragorn's eyes followed her as she glanced towards the window for the tenth time.

Silently he stood and walked over to her, bending to speak quietly in her ear. "Is there something I should know?" His hand folded over her shoulder warmly.

"What if they're looking for me, too?" She whispered back, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"Then their task will be as difficult as finding Frodo, for I have no intention of them taking you either."

Josephine sniffed and put her hand over his shakily, squeezing his fingers and trying to put a stop to her crying before it really started up again.

"There is no need for two sets of eyes to stand watch. Take some rest, there is a long journey ahead." He nodded to the bedroll at her feet, set out within the warmth of the fire.

He wasn't wrong, she was exhausted between all the travel and stress of the past week and her encounter with the Nazgul earlier. But she was wide awake and couldn't possibly fall asleep.

In response to her silence Aragorn gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. "Sleep, Josephine."

His fingers slipped away as she got up, humoring him even though she didn't have much hope for his command. The fire warmed her back and she burrowed her head into the crook of her arm as he went back to his place by the window.

Sleep did come, somehow, but she couldn't tell how long it stayed before screams tore through the inn and she bolted upright, trembling just like the Hobbits who all sat up in the bed they shared.

"What are they?" Frodo asked, seeking an answer he'd been missing since the Shire.

"They were once men, great kinds of men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will."

Josephine stood and tiptoed over to the window where Aragorn sat, pulling her cloak around her tightly as she peered through the dirty glass. Four black horsemen rode off away from the inn and a shiver ran down her spine. At least that had gone as planned.

"They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

The Hobbits looked to have plenty more questions of their own but were too nervous to ask them. Having undead evil horsemen hunting you would do that to a person's sense of security. Even she felt like talking about them after dark would be too much fate to tempt.

Uncomfortably the four laid back down, though only Pippin closed his eyes to sleep again. While she kept her eyes fixed on the now empty street below them, she could feel Aragorn watching her and let out a purposeful sigh of relief. A way to say without saying that at least for the night, they were probably okay.

When she did he nodded ever so slightly and turned back to the window.

"Hey, I'm not getting any more sleep tonight, you might as well. I'll sit up for a while."

Like it had back in the wilds when she told him what she knew, his gaze became scrutinizing, but only for a moment. Only long enough for him to weigh her spoken intentions with her actions. She must have passed because he gave her a soft, grateful smile and stood up, offering her his seat. "Wake me if you see or hear anyone before dawn."

She sank into his chair and he laid down in front of the fire, hand on the hilt of his sword.