CHAPTER EIGHT

On the Road. Again.

The restaurant of The Prancing Pony was filled with the smell of ale, lit cigars, and steak. Even after three full weeks of hard work in this inn, Ariel still had to get used to the rowdiness and the riotous atmosphere of the place. It had occurred more often than she liked that men shot her greedy glances, or even touched her as she walked by. The first time it'd happened, she'd been very clear that she didn't appreciate being touched— but that earned her a reprimand from Butterbur ("We don't slap our guests, Tilda!") and she'd been forced to 'just ignore' those men.

Not that her new work clothes helped. Somehow, medieval girls couldn't show their ankles but it was alright for them to wear corsets that pushed up their breasts. It made Ariel feel extremely conscious of herself.

"Vernon," she said, putting the plate on the counter and looking for the cook through the small opening. He appeared in front of her after a few seconds. "Could you add some pepper sauce?" she asked, pushing the plate over to him.

He nodded and disappeared to do so. Ariel turned around as she waited, looking around the restaurant as she pushed a stray hair out of her face.

It had been little more than three weeks since they arrived in Bree. The evening after their little tour around the restaurant, which included explanations of how things worked and the rules they ought to follow, Dylis explained all Ariel needed to know about where they were.

It was an understatement to say Ariel had been a little overwhelmed— not only by the fact that she found herself coming to terms with her being stuck in a fictional world, but also by the fact that, apparently, they found themselves right at the beginning of what would be the story of The Lord of the Rings.

It was September now, in the year 3018, and according to Dylis that meant things would soon be set in motion— or maybe they had already been.

Dylis said they would stay in Bree until she'd have enough information about what was happening outside these walls, but Ariel didn't understand what there was left to know if the blonde already knew every single line of the books and movies.

"There you are."

Ariel turned to the old cook and took the plate, which was adorned with the pepper sauce quite generously.

"Thanks Vernon," she said.

She walked back to the guest who'd requested the pepper sauce, ignoring the strain in her arms, and set the plate in front of him.

"There you go, sir," Ariel said with a customer-friendly smile. "Enjoy your dinner."

"Thank you, lass," the man said gruffly before carrying on his conversation with his companion.

Ariel then walked up to the bar, seeing the big tankard of ale ready, and went around the tables asking if the guests would like some more.

Since Ariel had no experience in running or managing a restaurant in contrast to Dylis, Butterbur had placed her on waitressing. It was nothing she couldn't do, and (if the men kept their hands to themselves) she actually enjoyed the interaction with the guests. She often asked the guests how things were going beyond the borders, garnering information for Dylis. Most of the times, Ariel didn't know what it meant, but she could see Dylis' mind working.

While Ariel was waitressing, Dylis was reorganising the whole management of the inn, mostly correcting and keeping the books, which were "in a state of chaos," as Dylis had said.

Ariel had asked only once how she could write and understand the strange alphabet they used here, and Dylis had replied something vague about Will challenging her to learn it.

Ariel wasn't entirely sure if she believed it, but she saw no reason not to believe it… so she just let it slide.

Because they both had very different jobs, they barely saw each other during the day— only before and after work. At first the prospect of this worried Ariel, and it was strange not to have Dylis around her— she found her presence comforting, especially now with this whole situation they were in.

Once Ariel had gone by every table with her tankard, which she had to refill twice, she went back to bar to give it to Agnes.

Said girl was watching her with slight concern. "Tilda?" she asked when Ariel put the tankard down on the bar. "D'ye want to switch duties? Ye've been waitressing the whole day without break!"

"I've had lunch," Ariel mumbled.

Agnes rolled her eyes. "Come," she said, putting down the ale mug she was drying with a rag. "Have a little break, then ye can go on bar duty. I'll take over from here."

Ariel smiled tiredly. "Thank you, Agnes," she said.

The red-haired girl wove a dismissive hand. "No problem, really," she said. "Now, off ye go."

Ariel nodded and went out of the restaurant to the backroom where staff usually lunched and dined together.

It was already dark out; autumn had already rolled in with wind, rain, and longer nights. She looked out of the window, and upon only being met by her own reflection because of the lights inside, she realised just how tired she looked.

She wiped the sweat away from her face, re-braided her hair (which she'd become far better at these days), and straightened the old corset she'd been given by Agnes.

After five minutes of leaning against the wall with her eyes clothes, relishing in hearing only the faint murmur of guests instead of being in the middle of their loud laughter and conversations, she sighed and went back to work.

Being on bar duty was still a novelty to Ariel, since she didn't do it as often as waitressing. Beside not having done it often, being a barmaid in a medieval town was very different from being a bartender at home.

Home. After three weeks, they still had no idea of how they could find their way back home.

It was hard for Ariel to accept that they'd just been transported to this place, and that they had no idea what might've triggered it. And that they might never trigger being transported back.

She shook her head, trying to shake away those thoughts. A few strands of hair already left her braid again, and she pushed them out of her face rather viciously.

It got her nothing to go down that spiral again, except a panic attack. Which she definitely did not need.

She took a breath and mustered up a smile as she looked up to ask the two men seated at the bar what she could do for them.

But she stopped at their rough and rugged appearance.

The two men both had dark hair with piercing grey eyes, their cloaks dirty and torn. Their hair (and beards) were messy and unkempt, and they looked as though they hadn't slept in a proper bed in ages.

They looked like they hadn't even slept in ages.

Ariel took one look at them and said, "You two look in need of a stiff drink."

The men grinned, and despite their dishevelled appearance, Ariel noted they had a different air around them than the other travellers in the inn had. Something… decent. Which seemed completely at odds with their ruffian exterior.

Ariel filed this observation away and took two glasses, filling each of them with a liquor that strongly reminded Ariel of whiskey (Yes, she might've secretly tried out some of the liquor here).

"There you go," she said, setting them down in front of the men.

"Thank you, miss," the one on the left said, who looked the worst of the two.

They each downed their drinks. Ariel went on, cleaning her rag before drying off the many mugs and glasses.

"Has Gandalf been here lately?" the man on the right asked, and Ariel jolted a bit at hearing the name.

She and Dylis had discussed Gandalf often enough, especially during conversations concerning going home and how to find help. But actually hearing this name— this major character in the stories— being mentioned by an actual inhabitant of this world was just bizarre.

Ariel forced herself to react normally, remembering all what Dylis had told her about the different names for the wizard. "No, I haven't seen the Grey Pilgrim," she said. "But perhaps you could try the other inns? He might've stopped by there."

She received very bemused looks from the men. Wondering if she'd said something wrong, Ariel bit the inside of her cheek.

"You new here?" the fouler-looking man asked.

Ariel nodded. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked, not being able to stop her irritation from seeping through. She got that question a lot, as though everyone here was a regular and knew every single staff member.

The men turned to look at each other, having some silent conversation. Then they turned back to Ariel. "Can we have dinner here?"

"Of course you can," she said. "However, all tables are occupied, so I hope you don't mind eating at the bar?"

The men shook their heads and ordered a steak and a mug of ale for each of them. Ariel passed the order to Vernon, then tapped some ale.

"Forgive me for asking," she asked after giving them their mugs, "but are you Rangers?"

Don't sound too educated, Dylis had said once after telling her about them. You're not from Bree and you don't know much about the Dúnedain and the Rangers, which gives you an excuse to be curious without giving them a reason to be suspicious.

The men nodded, the cleaner one close to rolling his eyes.

"Butterbur told me of you lot," Ariel said, trying her best to sound excessively chirpy and cheerful and oblivious of her interrupting the secretive conversation they were having. "Told me I should give you extra good service. I think he's a bit scared of you— don't tell him I said that."

The men shared a look. "You're not from around here, are you?" the fouler one asked.

Ariel shook her head, continuing to clean the mugs. "No. I've come from Laketown with my sister. We've always liked travelling to and fro."

The other man snorted. "You might want to give that up," he muttered in his cup.

Ariel feigned curiosity and confusion as she paused in her actions. "How so?"

"The roads are becoming more and more dangerous lately."

"Hasn't it always been perilous for two girls to travel alone?" she asked.

They considered it for a moment and nodded. "I suppose you have a point," the cleaner one said. He then shifted, a little away from her and more to his companion, and Ariel understood she might've pushed too far. She'd try again later.

For now, she went on with cleaning the bar, helping other guests, and drawing ale from the tap. She made sure to remain in hearing range of the two Rangers, trying to listen in on their hushed conversation.

She couldn't hear most of it, and some words sounded so strange she didn't understand what they meant. But the last bit she understood well enough.

"We should wait here for the others to arrive," the relatively clean one said.

The other shook his head. "We have no time," he replied. "We must go to Lannen and warn Halbarad. The Riders have already taken the Greenway— they might take the East-West Road next."

"There you go." Ariel set their plates down in front of them, and the men looked at her, evident annoyance in their faces. Ariel pretended not to notice. "What's with the Greenway?"

"It is none of your concern," the one with the clean face said dismissively.

Ariel put her hands on her hips. "It quite is, sir," she said. "If I'm to go back to my family in Laketown I need to know if it's safe to go."

"You should just stay inside these walls," he replied. "There's been more orc activity lately."

"So it's coming, then," Ariel mumbled.

The men frowned suspiciously. "What do you mean, 'it's coming'?" the man with the filthy face asked.

Ariel shook herself. "Huh? Oh." She gestured vaguely to the people in the restaurant. "Well, whatever it is that creates all these strange rumours flying 'round. I might be new to this town, but the tension hasn't escaped my notice."

"Just tell Mr. Butterbur that he should be on his guard for strange people asking suspicious questions," he replied.

Ariel cocked an eyebrow. "Strange people like you?"

That earned her a grin. Even though he looked fouler, he seemed to be more kind than his companion, Ariel noted. There was this permanent twinkle in his eyes, making him look approachable in spite of his stern nature.

She let the men eat their dinner, this time without interrupting any further— she suspected she had gleaned enough. Once they were finished, they didn't waste any time and payed up.

Ariel looked at her hands, at the coins given by the kinder one of the two. It was too much. "Uhm, sir, this is—"

"Just keep the change for you and your sister," he replied with the hint of a smile.

He turned away, and despite herself, Ariel asked before they could leave, "Where are you going?"

They looked back at her, slightly exasperated. The kind one smiled wryly. "I think, from what you've already heard while you were eavesdropping, you already know the answer."

"You are going to defend the East-West Road?"

A nod.

Ariel regarded the men for a moment, somehow almost bummed they were leaving. "Good luck."

o0o

"You are sure they were looking for Gandalf?"

Dylis was pinching her upper lip, staring at the candle that was flickering in the breeze invading the room through the open window.

Ariel sighed. "Yes, Dyl," she replied tiredly. "I'm sure. They said, 'Has Gandalf been here lately?' Is there another Gandalf I don't know about?"

Dylis ignored the jab. "And they said the Greenway was taken?"

"Yes," Ariel said, "as I've told you more than once." She paused, taking in Dylis' uncharacteristic nervousness. "Does it coincide with the events in the books?"

"You didn't hear anything about Sarn Ford?" Dylis asked instead of actually answering Ariel's question.

Ariel opened her mouth to reply she hadn't, but then stopped. "Now that you've mentioned it…" she started, "I did hear a word sounding quite like it. I thought they were saying Zandvoort. Which doesn't make sense, come to think of it. But, oh, do you remember that summer vacation to the Netherlands? That was just such an amazing—"

"Ariel," Dylis interrupted. "Now is not the time."

Ariel bit her lips. "Right. Sorry," she said. "But what about it?"

Dylis stood up from the bed and walked to the window. She stared off into the dark, as though she could see her memories outside. Quite a cinematic moment, Ariel thought with faint amusement.

"On September 22nd, which was two days ago," Dylis said, "the Ringwraiths drove off the Rangers and took over Sarn Ford. It's a ford crossing the Brandywine River, and it connects the North-South Road to the road leading to the Shire."

Ariel processed the information, trying to connect it to everything Dylis told her about the start of the story. "So they're already going after Frodo?"

Dylis nodded. "And that, Ariel," she said, "is why we need to leave."

"What? Why?"

"Because the roads will not be safe any longer. If we wait for the hobbits and for Strider to arrive at Bree, the Ringwraiths will be close behind them."

Ariel watched Dylis pull out their backpacks from underneath the bed, bewildered by the sudden turn of events. "You want us to leave, just like that?" she asked. "Without any explanation to Butterbur and the others?"

Dylis rolled her eyes as she stuffed the packs with their sleeping mats. "Do you really think I haven't thought of this?" she said.

Ariel made a spluttering sound of indignity. "Excuse me? Care to confer with my when you start making plans?" she said, outraged. "I thought we were in this together."

"We are," Dylis said. "And I'm sorry. I should have told you. But I wasn't entirely sure yet."

Ariel folded her arms across her chest. "Well. What do we tell them then?"

"We will feign receiving a letter from family in Laketown," Dylis told her. "I need you to cry— our aunt has died. In the letter, our family is asking us to come back for the funeral. Which is why we must leave as soon as possible because of the approaching danger."

"And you think they'll give us horses and food?"

Ariel watched heedfully as Dylis revealed a brown leather pouch. As she set it down on the desk, Ariel could hear the clank! of coin against coin.

"Where did you get that?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"Courtesy of Butterbur," Dylis replied. "His way of saying 'thank you' for correcting all the records and all the book-keeping. I finished the job yesterday."

"And this is enough for buying two horses?" Ariel asked.

"Cheap horses, but yes, I do think it'll be enough."

Ariel nodded. "Alright. I'll play along."

Dylis smiled. "Good."

"But wait, where are we going?" Ariel asked.

Dylis' smile spread into a grin. "To Rivendell."

Rivendell. That was where the elves lived. Right. "And why do you think we'd be welcomed in Rivendell?"

Dylis shrugged. "We have good reason to visit Lord Elrond," she replied. "You know, what with having been transported to Middle Earth."

Ariel rolled her eyes and let herself fall on her bed. "So we'll be on the road again."

Dylis went to sit beside her, and Ariel rested her head on the blonde's shoulder. "Yes. But this time, we'll be safe in Rivendell. I'm sure Lord Elrond will help us."

"I was just beginning to adjust to the filthy smell of Bree."

Dylis barked a laughed. "If I know anything, it's that you'll never get used to this stench."

o0o

They left the following morning.

The staff of The Prancing Pony believed the act Ariel and Dylis had put up, and Butterbur was very understanding. They thanked him for allowing them to stay, and Ariel hugged Agnes and Vernon goodbye. Nob seemed quite sullen that Dylis was leaving, too, probably because without her, the book-keeping would be left in chaos again.

Butterbur allowed them to take bread with them, along with dried meat, dried fruit and two waterskins.

"Hopefully, this'll be enough for at least two weeks," he'd said.

Ariel and Dylis felt slightly guilty for lying to the and taking advantage of their provisions, so Dylis softened the blow by saying they could hunt by setting traps once they'd run out of food.

Buying horses and equipment didn't take as long as Ariel thought it would. The horse master seemed glad to be rid of them— the horses they bought were quite old already, but able enough to bring them all the way to Rivendell.

With the change she'd been given the day before and with the last remnants of Dylis' coins, they bought cheap, itchy travelling cloaks.

This time travelling felt different, Ariel noted. There was a palpable tension in the air. The forest they found themselves in was still. There was no singing of birds, and even the wind seemed reluctant to rustle the leaves. It was as though nature was holding her breath, daring Ariel and Dylis to speak. So they didn't.

As much as Ariel's bum hurt from sitting on her mare all day, they didn't take breaks and they ate their lunch in their seats. At night, they went off the road, setting up camp underneath the cover of trees.

Ariel and Dylis huddled close, both shivering in the autumn chill; they didn't dare light a fire.

Several times, Ariel woke up jolting, thinking she heard a banshee-like wail echoing in the night. She could take a neat guess as to whom that screech belonged. Ariel would just feel for Dylis with her hand, checking if she was still there.

Those Rangers were right. Travelling all the way to Laketown would be extremely unwise, and Ariel was relieved they were only going to Rivendell and no further.

The next morning, it was still utterly dark when Dylis woke Ariel. The brunette jolted, then realised it was only Dylis and groggily rubbed her eyes. She hadn't slept well, and though she knew they had no other choice, she didn't fancy riding for another sixteen hours.

She forced some dried peach inside her mouth, unable to consume more at this ungodly hour, and then pulled herself up on her mare.

Through her tiredness, Ariel noticed Dylis was picking up the pace. It seemed the stillness was finally getting to her as well.

What made the whole journey even more exhaustive was the fact that Ariel could do nothing but be stuck in her head. Whenever she felt comfortable enough to let her guard slip a little, she amused herself with making lists of all sorts of things.

A list of her favourite and least favourite meals; a list of things she'd buy if she won the lottery; lists of her favourite bands; lists of pets she'd like to have; a list of possible names for her mare— she eventually decided on Capilet, inspired by Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.

She even made a list of Lord of the Rings characters she'd like to meet— but that felt a little bizarre, so she stopped after having put Legolas on second place.

It was during her list of her most awkward moments when her mare suddenly halted.

Ariel looked down at Capilet, confused and slightly nervous.

"Come on, Cap," she whispered, urging her mare to move— to no avail. She wouldn't budge. "Dyl," she called, and the sound of her voice seemed to resonate through the forest.

Dylis' horse had stopped as well. Whatever she did, no matter how sweetly she encouraged her steed, he refused to go on and only turned around back to Ariel.

"They're frightened," Dylis said quietly, as she rode up to Ariel.

Suddenly, Capilet reared, and Ariel shrieked in surprise as she clamped onto her mare's neck to remain seated.

"Something's coming!" Dylis said, trying to keep her own horse under control. "Quick! We've got to get off the road!"

Right at that moment, high-pitched screeches and wails echoed through the forest— way too close to Ariel's liking.

Her body went rigid in fear even as Capilet was back on the ground. The shriek pierced her ears, and it felt as though her ear drums snapped at the very sound of it.

Then, without even being fully aware of what she was doing, she steered Cap away from the road and broke into a gallop.

Ariel had ridden many times, but horse riding in a forest was very different from riding a calm horse in a pasture. Cap's instincts, despite her being past her prime, were top-notch, however. She managed to evade trees and bushes just in time, before almost being met by another tree as well.

Only when she felt they were far enough from the road did Ariel let her mare slow down. Dylis was close behind, doing the same.

They finally came to a stop, and though Cap was still shaken and restless, she didn't seem to be as frightened as before. Ariel's heart, though, was thundering in her throat.

She shared a look with Dylis, fear and adrenaline written all across her face. Ariel's knuckles were white as her hands clutched the rein, and she almost didn't notice Cap's protests.

Her head turned to where they'd come from, and ice cold fear washed over her as the wailing reached her ears.

Those were Ringwraiths, Ariel thought. Those were the same Ringwraiths that would attack Frodo, that would ride the Nazgûl later on. That realisation hit her so hard that her body locked down at it.

What if they came here? What if they had heard her and Dylis? Would they kill her? Why were they heading to Bree? Or were they going to the Shire? What did Dylis say was happening again in the story?

Could she even call it a story if she was in the middle of it?

They stood like that for twenty minutes— perhaps more. They dared not to breathe too loud, dared not to speak, dared not to even move.

Eventually, Dylis looked at Ariel and nodded. The shrieks had long passed, and the forest somehow seemed to be able to breathe again. Ariel looked up at the tree canopy, swaying in the slight breeze.

She loosed a breath, nodding back to Dylis. They could go.

Capilet still seemed a bit shaken, but only resisted feebly when Ariel urged her to follow Dylis and her steed. As they went back to the road, Ariel found she'd lead them out farther than she'd anticipated; it took them ten minutes to reach it.

Despite the forest seeming to come alive again, they were even more heedful and apprehensive than before their near-encounter with the wraiths, and they continued their journey in a canter.

Only after two uneventful hours did Ariel dare speak up again.

"What did you name your horse?" she asked Dylis, who walked besides her. They'd decided to give their mounts a little break.

"Haven't thought of one yet, to be honest," Dylis said, looking up at her steed. "What do you think?"

Ariel tilted her head to the side, thinking. "Bolt? Shadow? I mean, he's got a dark coat. Or maybe Balius— he was one of Achilles' horses."

Dylis laughed quietly. "I don't know. those names are all a bit… how did you say that? Extra?"

Ariel smiled. "I suppose they are," she admitted. "You could always call him Tom."

"I think I like—"

Dylis stopped.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at something farther down the road.

Ariel followed her gaze. About fifty yards away, she could see shapes sitting beside the road. Ariel's frown deepened. "I don't know," she mumbled and turned to Dylis. "Do you think we should—"

But Dylis was already seated on her horse. Ariel quickly followed her lead, silently wondering how Dylis could mount her horse so quickly and smoothly.

They rode up to the shapes, which turned out to be two men. One of them— the one who was crouched and seeming to be tending the other— jerked at the sound of their horses' hooves, and quickly fumbled for his sword.

He pointed it at them, keeping his other hand on the leg of the other man. "Who are you?" he asked, harsh and rough.

Ariel paused.

"Wait," she said, looking from the man holding the sword to the man leaning against the tree trunk. He looked wounded. "I know you. You were at The Prancing Pony two days ago."

The man did a double-take.

Ariel slid off her horse, ignoring Dylis' hissed warning, and held her hands up when the man shot up from his crouch and pointed the sword at her neck.

"I said," the man gritted out, "who are you."

Ariel swallowed. "I'm Ariel. This is Dylis," she said. Shit. Tilda. She should've said Tilda and Sigrid. "We worked at The Prancing Pony." The man only narrowed his eyes. "Please. Your friend. He's hurt, isn't he? By those… those Riders?"

She couldn't call them Ringwraiths. She wasn't supposed to know they were Ringwraiths.

The man finally lowered his sword. "He was stabbed," he said, a croaky edge to his voice that seemed completely out of character what with his stern exterior. "The blade's poisoned him. I can't leave him, but I need something…"

"Name it," Ariel said immediately. "What do you need?"

The man looked at her sharply, and only now she recognised him as the one who'd previously been cleaner than the other. It didn't matter now, though. They looked equally beaten. "What's it to you?" he asked warily.

Ariel shrugged. "He… he gave me a tip," she said a little sheepishly. "He was kind to me." Well. Somewhat. For a wary Ranger, Ariel supposed it'd been kindness more than pity that moved him to give her the generous tip.

The man looked from Ariel to Dylis, then back to Ariel. "He needs Athelas," he said. "Kingsfoil. It'll slow down the poison from reaching his heart."

Ariel made to move, but then halted. "What does it look like?"

Before the Ranger could sigh exasperatedly, Dylis quickly said, "Let me. I know what it looks like," and slid down her steed. Both the man and Ariel watched her leave the road and walk into the forest.

Ariel's gaze went back to the wounded man, and she crouched next to him, unaware of the wary look the other man was giving her.

"What happened?" she asked, as she moved to the wounded man's head and lifted his eyelid. She'd once read that if the pupil constricted while doing this, the patient should be alive. Or something. Truthfully, she didn't know what she was doing, but when she pulled the lid open, the pupil dilated and his eyes moved as though trying to focus.

"We were making our way to a settlement to warn the people there." Ariel turned her head away from the hurt man and sat back on her knees, listening. "But we were overrun by the wraiths. We managed to drive one off, but the other two were keen on getting us out of the way."

Ariel shuddered. Were those two wraiths the ones she'd heard pass?

"Will kingsfoil be enough to stop the poison?" she asked.

The man shook his head downcast. "Few things will be able to save him," he said. "He must be healed by the elves."

"Rivendell."

He looked at her and nodded slowly. "Yes."

"And only there he can be healed?" Ariel asked, turning her head to look pensively at the direction Dylis had went into.

"Yes."

Just then, Dylis came back with a handful of weeds. She gave them to the man, who quickly took it and went to work.

Ariel stood up and drew Dylis away from the two men. Dylis' eyes were still on them, though, but somehow they seemed to be turned inward. She was thinking.

Ariel opened her mouth, but Dylis beat her to it.

"They are heading to Rivendell," she said. "So that Lord Elrond can heal him."

Ariel stopped. "Yes. He just told me."

"And you want to help them."

"Obviously. They need help— fast," Ariel replied. "We have horses."

Dylis cut her a look. "They'll think we're suspicious," she said. "They'll want to know why want to go to Rivendell."

"And we'll just lie to them," Ariel said as she rolled her eyes, "as we've always done."

Dylis sighed. "You are right," she said.

"Nice to know you're not as inhuman as I expected," Ariel said, and went back to the man who tended to his friend.

He didn't look at her as he said, "Your friend is suspicious of us."

Ariel crossed her arms. "Not unlike you," she said. "But… you need help, and we've got horses. We're headed to Rivendell as well, so it wouldn't be a problem."

His head turned to Ariel, eyebrows furrowed. "What business have you in Rivendell?"

"It is of no matter to you," Ariel said quickly. "I know you mistrust us, but don't be foolish to decline our offer."

The man looked down at his friend and shook his head. "I will not decline," he said eventually. "Can I trust you with Lithir?"

Ariel nodded. "Yes." Then she frowned, because the man had said it as though he wouldn't be there to check if she was trustworthy. "Why?"

"I still have to warn the settlement," he said. "It's not far… but you should go now, nevertheless."

Ariel looked from him to the wounded man, who she now knew was called Lithir. "What's your name?" she asked the man, who stood up and sheathed his sword.

"Angharad," he replied.

"I'll let your friend know where you've gone should he be conscious enough to process it," Ariel said.

Angharad nodded. "Who is the more capable rider of the two?" he asked.

"Dylis."

He crouched to lift Lithir up and Ariel quickly made to help. She was surprised how heavy a human body was when it wasn't cooperating. With much struggling, they put him onto the horse, Dylis already seated in the saddle.

"Please, make haste," Angharad said, then fumbled with his hands in his pocket and handed Ariel more athelas. "This was left from when your friend went searching. If he starts to convulse, strip the weed of its flowers and chew on the stem and leaves before putting it on the wound."

Dylis nodded dutifully. "We'll ride day and night."

"He'll be fine when you reach Rivendell," Ariel said, mounting Capilet. "Good luck reaching the settlement."

Angharad nodded once. "Go."

Ariel and Dylis did.

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xoxo