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Chapter 2

Strangers to Middle Earth
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It turned out that Siddel had been planning on taking them to the Prancing Pony anyway. Since it was an inn, and they were travelers, it made sense, and it turned out that about a third of the bags and crates in the cart were meant for the inn as well. Yvonne thanked him profusely for the ride when he dropped them off in front of the inn, which he accepted with flustered gratitude before bringing the cart around to the back to unload his wares.

Nell stared up at the inn's sign, a beautifully carved depiction of a rearing white horse, trying to bolster herself before entering, when suddenly, Yvonne whispered, "Nell," startling her a bit, thanks to her taut nerves. Nell looked at her. "Do you have any change? I have a few pennies, I think, but I never carry cash, and somehow I don't think they're going to accept credit cards in the inn. We need to talk, but I think we should get off the street first."

"I don't have anything," Nell murmured back. "I left my apartment without even my phone . . ." Faced with this new situation, one which she had no idea how they were going to get out of without any money or experience in a place such as this, her discomfort grew further, and she untied her jacket from her hips, put it on once again, and pulled up the hood. It may be completely out of place here, but at least the hood helped her to feel hidden. "What are we gonna do?" she whispered with a sense of urgency. The stares were getting worse. A few children—real children, not hobbits—were openly watching them. "Let's go in anyway," Yvonne said, nodding at the inn. "It's an inn . . . they're used to travelers, right? We can tell the truth, or part of it, at least. We're from a far-off land and got lost, and don't know much about the local area. Maybe the innkeeper would trade something for something I have in my purse. If we can just get a table and a drink or some food, we can at least talk about what to do next without causing a commotion on the street."

It sounded like the only option. "Okay, yeah, let's do that . . ." Nell replied softly, and Yvonne opened the heavy door of the inn. They both stepped inside.

It was dim and warm, and if Nell hadn't been so nervous, she would have found it rather cozy—in spite of the noise. Patrons ate and drank amid a good deal of conversation, some quite raucous. It took Nell but a quick once-over of the room to find that almost every customer was a man, and not the kind of man who made a girl feel safe in an unfamiliar environment. Her muscles locked up, and her lungs suddenly felt tight. She wondered if anything bad had happened in this place in the books, but didn't feel comfortable asking Yvonne at the moment—especially not with the man behind the bar to their left staring at them.

Before Nell had a chance to feel even more daunted, Yvonne suddenly approached him with a smile.

"Hi, my name is Yvonne. My friend is Nell. We're from another country, so I'm afraid we're unfamiliar with the local area and culture, and I apologize in advance if we offend anyone unintentionally. We're a bit lost, you see." She seemed just a bit hesitant as she put her purse on the counter and opened it up, hurriedly looked through it. The barkeeper's gaze was already skeptical. Nell slowly moved up beside her.

Then, Yvonne paused. But only for a moment. Then started digging again. When she withdrew her hand, she held it out to the barkeeper, biting her lip.

"I know it's foreign currency, but it's all I have. I doubt anyone in this town has ever seen coins like these before, so you might be able to sell them for more than they're worth. All we want is a drink each and a chance to sit at a table while we figure out what to do next." She hesitated. "Well, some food would be nice too, but the drinks and the table are all we need. Is this enough?"

The man peered down at the coins in Yvonne's palm, looking more interested than skeptical now. His eyes shifted from the currency to Yvonne's face, then briefly to Nell, who was grateful for her hood. Then, something else grabbed his attention: Yvonne's purse.

"What else ye got in that satchel there?" He leaned forward, forcing Yvonne to take a step back. "If the price is right, I might even be able teh get ye an' yer friend a room."

Something in his tone—and his eyes—told Nell that any deals might not be in their favor. She grabbed Yvonne's arm anxiously, hoping that she wouldn't actually consider emptying her purse for the barkeeper.

Yvonne seemed to understand Nell's warning, for she took pause before closing the purse with a strained smile. "Sorry, but the coins are all I have. We could share a drink, if it's not enough for two drinks."

"Ye expect me to believe that?" The man grabbed the purse, and Yvonne clutched at the strap, but he didn't pull it away. Instead, he felt at the leather. "Never seen leather so fine." He peered at her clothes, then at Nell's. "Never seen fabric so fine neither. Ye en't poor, I can tell tha' much. Yer tryin' to swindle me, en't ye?" His eyes narrowed, and his grip on her purse tightened. She tugged at it, but he didn't let go. Nell stared at the stand-off, wide-eyed and stricken with fear, completely unsure of what to do.

"Let go," Yvonne said, her voice only wavering very slightly. "This is the only money I have. I'm not lying."

"Coin en't all that's valuable." His eyes fell to the necklace that she wore. She immediately clutched it with the hand that wasn't holding the purse.

"Leave the girl alone, Havarr," a voice said from behind them. "She's offering to pay with coin. It's not any of your business what else she's got. If the coin isn't good enough, turn her away. If it is, take it."

To the girls' relief, the bartender, Havarr, released the purse. Yvonne stumbled back a step with it, looping the strap over her shoulder and tucking it securely under her arm before looking up to glare at him. Surprisingly, he looked chagrined, and held out his hand.

"The coin for two drinks and the use of a table for as long as yer drinkin' them," he grumbled. "Ye want any more, ye need ta hand somethin' else over, mind."

"Thank you," Yvonne said tightly, dumping the coins into his palm. As soon as she withdrew her own hand another, a bigger hand dropped a large silver coin on top the smaller ones that she'd given him.

"And a meal for both women." The voice was the same one that had saved them from Havarr, and when they turned to see who it was, they saw not one but two men standing behind them. The men had moved so quietly that Nell and Yvonne hadn't even heard them approach, and were dressed in dark-green cloaks, rugged clothes, and leather boots. Both of them had long hair that looked like it could use a wash and rough facial hair, but the taller one's hair was nearly black while the one who was slightly shorter had lighter brown hair. Both were taller than the girls by at least a head, and Yvonne had a couple of inches on Nell, who was a fairly average height.

"Thank you," Yvonne managed to get out, her eyes wide.

Nell's eyes were fixed on the two strangers with fascination, and belatedly she realized that she was still clutching Yvonne's arm. She released her just as the brown-haired man met her eyes. His serious gaze passed over her hood, and he gave the rest of her a fleeting glance before returning to her face. He then spoke. "Are you all right?" He seemed to be directing the question to both herself and Yvonne, as his eyes turned to Nell's companion a moment later.

At first, Nell couldn't seem to force words from her mouth, but then she succeeded in uttering a soft, "Yes . . . thank you." Both men were well built, and they had an air about them that was somehow different from the majority of the men that she had seen when surveying the room. That, in addition to what they had just done for the two of them, made a part of her relax inside, not fearing for her safety as much as she had a few moments ago.

"We're fine, thank you," Yvonne added, her tone steady, unlike her hands, which, Nell noticed, were shaking, before she tucked them into her jeans' pockets.

A scraping sound made the girls turn to see Havarr sliding two huge wooden beer steins across the counter toward them. They were foaming at the top, and a small amount of liquid sloshed out when he shoved them. "Yer food'll be brought to yer table," he grunted.

Yvonne uttered another, quiet thanks, and grabbed one of the steins. Nell eyed the frothy beverages with mixed feelings. Due to recent events, she had nearly forgotten her thirst, but now that the steins had been presented, she craved the relief of the cold drink. Of course, she would much prefer water, but after their encounter with the barkeeper, she dared not ask for anything else.

She reached out and took her stein, supporting it with both hands, as it was heavier than she had expected, then noticed Yvonne scoping out a place to sit. Yvonne gave her a questioning look, raising her eyebrows and glancing back at a corner table near an unlit fireplace, and Nell silently indicated that it would be acceptable.

Then, she realized that she must now acknowledge the two large figures still standing beside them. She had been hoping that they would not want anything from them in return for their assistance, but seeing as they had not left the girls to their own devices, a bit of fear was beginning to creep back into the pit of Nell's stomach. Surely she and Yvonne were not now in an even worse position?

Warily, she glanced at the strangers, finding herself suddenly unable to hold either man's gaze as they finished what looked like a silent conversation of their own. The slightly shorter one bowed to the girls, an action which was swiftly copied by the taller one.

"I am Boren, son of Morlan," the shorter one said as he straightened up. "And my companion is Lorthon, son of Ordon. We are Rangers of the North. We are protectors of these lands, and mean you no harm."

The taller one, Lorthon, nodded gravely. "'Tis dangerous times we find ourselves in, ladies. None should travel alone, least of all those of the fairer sex. Have you companions?"

Nell couldn't help but look at them openly as they spoke. Their respectful manner, despite their appearances, was intriguing—almost captivating. And somehow, though perhaps foolishly, she did not believe that they were being deceitful. Could these men—Rangers, they called themselves—really help Yvonne and herself? Could they have answers? Any help was better than none, she supposed.

"It's just us," Yvonne said. "We came to this town with a man named Siddel, who was kind enough to allow us to ride in his cart, but we only met him earlier today. We're the only two who are . . . from where we came from." She paused for a moment, biting her lip, but continued on. "I'm Yvonne Linden. It's nice to meet you."

As soon as Yvonne introduced herself, Nell realized that she must do the same, and managed to find her voice. "I'm Nell—Nell Carter." Her name suddenly seemed so plain in the wake of the men's introductions.

Both men smiled kindly at the girls. "The pleasure is ours," Lorthon said. "But I cannot recommend this place as a haven for two young women to enjoy food and drink alone."

Boren spoke his agreement. "Aye. No doubt you would encounter troubles worse than old Havarr."

Nell knew that he was right, and her stomach twisted with worry. But she and Yvonne had to eat—and talk. Where else was there to go?

Before she could feel too muddled and hopeless, Lorthon spoke again. "If you would permit us, we would join you, that our consciences may rest at ease."

After a moment, Yvonne gave a tight nod. "I think we'd appreciate some company." She turned toward the table she had spotted, then hesitated, looking back to the men, but Lorthon indicated that the girls could lead the way. Boren paused at the bar, probably to order something for himself and Lorthon, while Yvonne crossed the room to the quiet corner and the empty table that was waiting for them.

Nell hurried to keep up, careful to avoid sloshing her drink—and bumping into any of the other patrons. She felt Lorthon's presence behind her, not too close, but close enough to make her feel both self-conscious and protected. Her heart still pounded with anxiety, but she knew that it would have been so much worse had she and Yvonne been alone in this rowdy place.

She took a seat next to Yvonne, against the back wall, and set down her stein. Lorthon claimed one of the chairs opposite. The table was constructed of thick, heavy wood, and the surface was scuffed, scratched and stained from what was surely decades of use. Nell clutched the stein between her hands, slightly intimidated by its size. Despite the smell of brew and alcohol, it was quite appetizing. She raised it to her lips and took a small drink, to wet her dry throat. The amber liquid went down more easily than she had expected (possibly because she was so parched), and she took another swig—then wiped the bit of foam from her lip as discreetly as she could, hoping that Lorthon hadn't noticed.

As the girls enjoyed their beverages, Nell saw Boren coming toward the table, somehow balancing two wide wooden bowls and carrying two steins without spilling any of it. He set the dishes down in front of Nell and Yvonne, reserving the steins for him and Lorthon. "The food is better than it looks," he said as he sat down.

Nell hadn't realized just how hungry she was until the bowl was set before her. She didn't hesitate to pick up her large spoon and dip into the chunky stew. She wasn't a stranger to imperfectly prepared food, considering some of the homes that she had been a part of and their habit of enlisting the other foster kids' help with meals, so she was undaunted by the particularly rustic appearance of the meal before her now. Her large chunk of torn bread had soaked up some of the thick broth, and after she had scooped a piece of carrot as thick as her thumb into her mouth, she helped herself to the moist bit of the bread. She had never had home-baked bread before, but it somehow made her feel nostalgic.

Overall, the food was comforting and hearty, and though the meat was rather gamey—another flavor that she was unaccustomed to—she found it appealing, and had to stop herself from eating too quickly. The stew also went well with the drink, of which she had drunk half before she knew it.

Suddenly, Lorthon spoke, pulling her gaze from her food to him. In her eagerness to eat, she had neglected to expect any talk from the men, and she felt rather foolish for it. "I find myself curious as to where two travelers such as yourselves come from," he said. "These are dark times, and it is not common to come across small groups without warriors to defend them from the foul things that roam this land, let alone two women without sword or bow between them."

As Nell took in his words, her mind reeled. She glanced at Yvonne at the same time as Yvonne gave her a look. Then Yvonne went in for another, hurried bite, and Nell looked back to her own bowl, stirring a bit of potato around as she thought quickly. With some food in her, she felt her emotions and her mind stabilizing considerably, and knowing that she had to say something, she took a stab at it.

"It's . . . kind of hard to explain," she began, then glanced up at the men to gauge their reactions to her words. They were watching her with patient but interested eyes, and she knew that she must go on. But not knowing much of the goings-on of this world, she could only invent so much by way of explanation. So, she kept it simple, sticking to the truth as much as possible, and applying a standard excuse for situations such as this. "We don't know how we came to be here," she said, trying her best to mimic their way of speaking. "Neither of us remembers it, really. We both awoke in the countryside, and, thanks to the cartman, made our way here . . ." She did not have to apply any acting skill to her story, for her genuine feelings about the mind-boggling situation matched her words well enough.

Boren's eyebrows drew together. "Were you taken from your home against your will? Have you any injuries? 'Tis often said that a blow to the head can make memories unreliable."

"We weren't attacked," Yvonne said. She paused and took a deep breath. "At least, I do not remember an attack. There was a flash of bright light, then nothing. I was uninjured when I came to. My companion and I are from the same . . . country, but we were not together when it happened."

Both men looked disturbed. Boren continued to frown in thought, and Lorthon leaned back in his seat, looking suspicious. "What you speak of would be magic, and that is not something men such as us have overmuch knowledge of. Only a wizard could do such a thing, or perhaps a dark sorcerer or a witch."

Nell suddenly lost much of her interest in her meal. The men's wary scrutiny and the mention of magic set her stomach alight with nerves once again. Was magic forbidden here? Would she and Yvonne be held in contempt for being involved with such a thing—if indeed magic had been involved—regardless of whether they were actually at fault? She dearly hoped against it, but what else could be responsible for bringing them here? It had to have been a supernatural event, which, for all intents and purposes, was its own form of magic. A blow to the head surely could have explained everything for the Rangers, but even that had its gaps, for neither girl was bloodied or even bruised.

Nell resisted the urge to cast another glance at Yvonne, for fear of appearing conspiratorial to the now-suspicious men. Instead, she mustered what confidence she was able and asserted herself once more, speaking rather softly, so as to just be heard over the din of the room. "Do you think . . . such a thing could have done this? Taken our memories?"

Both men looked decidedly uncomfortable now. Yvonne drank a gulp of her ale, as if to busy herself. After a pause, Boren spoke reluctantly. "There is no telling what magic might do. Some is fair and some is foul, but if you have been touched by it, then there is a greater purpose to your presence here . . . for good or for ill." He looked them both up and down, though his manner was perfunctory enough to not seem as though he was ogling them. "While it would ease my heart to believe that you were lying, or touched in the head, your bearing and possessions seem to uphold your claims."

Lorthon nodded slowly. "Gruff though he may be, Havarr did not speak falsely. Both of your clothing and your—" he nodded at Yvonne "—satchel are not what one would expect to find in an area filled with simple men who live simple lives. I have traveled these lands for years and have seen nothing like it. Even amongst the Elves, I believe that manner of dress and fabric is unknown, though the Elves of Rivendell are the only ones we are familiar with. We do have much experience with the road, however, and it would take magic indeed for even a woman to travel far while remaining so fresh. You could not have come far, but all the same, you are plainly strangers to the lands surrounding Bree."

Nell's attention had caught on the mention of Elves. She may be familiar with only a small amount of this world, but the Elves were some of its most well-known inhabitants. She could not imagine seeing them in person—real Elves. Would they look similar to the actors who portrayed them? She had seen plenty of pictures from the movies, and had always been taken with their otherworldliness—particularly the young blonde Elf. What was his name . . . ?

"What now?" Yvonne asked, pulling Nell out of her reverie. "We don't have any money, or any way of . . . contacting anyone from our home. Neither of us knows how to figure out what happened to us. What . . . what can we do?"

Nell waited anxiously for the Rangers' response, hoping that they would know of something, or someone, that could help them, despite their not being versed in the ways of magic.

The two men exchanged another look, which lingered this time, as though they were once again sharing a small conversation. When they turned back to the girls, Boren spoke. "There is but one path that comes to mind which may see you on your proper way . . . though a journey it will be, and none too easy."

Hope bloomed in Nell's heart—closely accompanied by a deepening anxiety.

Lorthon continued for his friend. "Seeing as your mystifying tale seems to tell of magic of some form, it is possible that you might find answers in Rivendell."

Yvonne spoke, and the tone of her voice caused Nell to look at her. She was smiling. "Rivendell? How far is it from here?"

Boren narrowed his eyes upon Yvonne slightly, while Lorthon cocked an eyebrow. "By your expression, it seems as though you are not as unfamiliar with the Elven kingdom as we had thought," said the latter. "It lies three hundred miles to the east."

"And 'tis not a friendly journey to two such as yourselves," Boren added.

The men were silent for a moment, and Nell's mind tried to process how long it would take to travel three hundred miles without a motorized vehicle. She was more than a little daunted by the prospect. Then, Lorthon spoke again. "If you would permit us, we would see you through the journey. We could not rest easy in the knowledge that we had sent you off alone across lands unknown and perilous. Not as Rangers, nor as men."

Nell felt her eyes widen at the solemnity of his words and the resolute expressions on their rugged faces. Were these strangers seriously willing to bring two strange young women across three hundred miles for no reason other than their consciences? Honor? Was this how all Rangers were?

Yvonne spoke suddenly. "I've heard stories of Elves. There aren't any Elves back on . . . where we came from, just Men. But there are stories, and Rivendell is mentioned in several. I thought it was just a legend." Then, her eyes widened, her expression one of concern. "We don't have any way to pay you."

"We demand no payment, miss," replied Lorthon. "We would be doing a disservice to both of you, and to our own names, to expect something from two souls with so little."

Nell could hardly believe that this was happening. How could she and Yvonne have been so fortunate as to have come across these selfless men? If they were true to their word, she and Yvonne wouldn't have to bear the weight of this world alone, afraid of every danger that could await them around every corner. It almost seemed too good to be a coincidence.

Taking a deep breath, Yvonne said, "That is an astoundingly kind offer, and I do not believe we are in a position to turn you down, even though I hate to take so much of your time and give nothing in return. But . . . I think my companion and I need to speak between ourselves before coming to an agreement. I don't mean to offend you, not at all, but we've had little chance to talk in private since we came here."

Lorthon nodded. "Understood. We shall give you the privacy you desire. When you have come to a decision, signal us, and we shall return."

With that, the Rangers rose from their seats and made their way to another, nearby table. They left their steins behind, both only partially empty, as if to guard their places. Nell watched them sit at their new table, facing toward herself and Yvonne, but gazing around at the room rather than at the two of them.

Yvonne turned to Nell. "You know where we are, right?" She kept her voice low. "Please tell me you've read the books, or at least seen the movies."

Nell hated to admit it, but she must. "I do know where we are, but—I'm sorry, I've never read or watched them." She cringed at her own words, hoping that Yvonne wouldn't think her too incompetent. She hurried on: "But I know enough to have figured it out. And I know of the Elves. Just . . . not more intricate things . . ." Her chest clenched with guilt. She had never thought that having not read a series of books would be such a detriment.

Surprise touched Yvonne's face, but it quickly passed. "It's all right, there's no way you could have known it would be important." She gave Nell a small grin. Some of Nell's tension left her at Yvonne's acceptance and understanding. Not only was she fortunate to have run into the Rangers, but to have become acquainted with this young woman. She didn't know her well just yet, but she could tell that she was a good sort to have as a friend. Yvonne then continued, "I've never read the last few Harry Potter books, and everyone always looks at me like I'm crazy when I tell them that. Histories are much more my thing. I think the reason I always liked Tolkien so much was because his books read like histories." She pulled herself back to the subject at hand. "I'm sure some things will be different here than they are in the stories. Real life is always different than you think it would be just from reading about it. But I'm almost certain we'll be better off in Rivendell than we would be here. I just . . . I don't know how much we should tell people about where we came from. If we travel with the Rangers, they're bound to ask more questions eventually. How honest should we be? Getting caught in a lie would be bad, but admitting that we come from a world where Middle Earth is just a story might be equally bad."

Nell nodded. "Yeah, we definitely can't say a thing about that. Even with magic existing here, the concept of another world might be too far-fetched." Holy . . . magic exists here . . . She quickly redirected her straying thoughts back to the conversation. "But I agree: We can't stay here. The Elves are probably our best bet." She glanced over at the Rangers, finding them still watching the room, then back to Yvonne, and lowered her voice further. "I can't believe they're willing to take us there. Is that normal?"

Yvonne looked a little embarrassed. "If I'm being honest, my favorite race was always the Elves, followed by the Hobbits, so I don't know much about the different groups of Men. I know of the Rangers because Aragorn was one—he's one of the heroes in the books and is also the king of a place called Gondor, but he grew up with the Rangers . . . it's complicated, I guess. Anyway, I don't really know much about them. I think they mostly protect the Hobbits and the areas around Bree, but other than that . . ." Her voice, nearly a whisper, trailed off, and she spread her hands. "I have no idea what's normal for them and what's not. I think they have a good relationship with the Elves, which means they're probably at least somewhat trustworthy, and they travel around a lot, so it's possible they may have been going that direction anyway, or at least near there." She bit her lip. "I think we can trust them more than we can trust anyone else in this town, which is probably as good as we're going to get. When it comes to what to tell them, I think we should stick with the truth as much as possible, while avoiding discussion of another world and the books. Downplaying our technology and staying away from discussions of religion might be good idea too, but I don't like the thought of lying to them outright. We already seem suspicious to them—if they can tell we're lying, it's just going to be worse. Plus, someone like Gandalf or Elrond could probably see right through a lie. Ah, Gandalf's a wizard, and Elrond is in charge of Rivendell, in case you didn't know."

"I've definitely heard of Gandalf," Nell replied. "And Frodo and his friends, and Bilbo, and Gimli—and Aragorn and Arwen. And the main Elf . . . Legolas, I think?" she hedged. Yvonne grinned as she listed off all of the characters that she was so familiar with. Then, Nell had a terrible thought, fear striking her heart. "And the orcs . . . do you think we'll come across any of them?" She dearly hoped not. She didn't know how she would survive such a thing.

"I don't know," Yvonne admitted, sobering. "We might. It probably depends on when we are. I think this area was supposed to have been pretty peaceful for a long time, but at around the time of the books, things started getting . . . worse. It started in The Hobbit and came to a head in Lord of the Rings." She hesitated for a moment. "In both stories, the characters got attacked on their way to Rivendell. In The Hobbit, it was orcs and wargs . . . erm, and trolls. In Lord of the Rings, it was horrible undead people called Ringwraiths . . . but those were specifically looking for Frodo, and they wouldn't even be in the area unless we were unlucky enough to arrive right at the same time period the books cover. I'm sure the Rangers know how to avoid the most dangerous areas, though."

"Yeah, I'm sure . . ." Yvonne's reassurance wasn't incredibly reassuring. Nell felt sick, and the heavy food and alcoholic drink settling in her stomach did not help matters. She could not succumb to fear. But as she had listened to Yvonne explain all of the horrible creatures that they could encounter, she had almost thought that staying in Bree would be favorable after all. But no—Rivendell would be worth it, she was sure. And the Rangers would be with them. They would be alright.

A sudden shadow fell over her mind, and she recalled the feeling of being stalked by the black rider. Had that been something from this world? At this point, it would be more strange if it weren't, rather than if she had dreamed about such a thing, then sensed it coming for her right before finding herself in its world. She shivered internally. If that thing had something to do with why she was here, maybe she really did have good reason to be afraid.

"So," she spoke again, trying to distract herself with their present business, "we're going then." It was a confirmation rather than a question, for she knew that Yvonne was on the same page. "And we'll avoid talking about ourselves as much as possible. We can't predict everything that they might ask us, so . . . we'll just have to come up with answers when we need them."

Yvonne nodded. "It's going to be risky, but I don't think there are any truly safe options at this point. Something happened to both of us, and there's no guidebook telling us what to do. We'll just have to make it up as we go, and make sure we're on the same page if the time comes when we have to lie." She paused, then added, "I know we don't know each other very well yet, but I'm glad you're here. I can't imagine doing this alone."

Nell smiled at that, and she felt as if she hadn't truly smiled in a while. "Same to you. If I were here alone, I don't know what I'd do . . ." She was sure that the two of them would get to know each other fairly well along their journey—however long it may be.

She asked Yvonne if she was ready to call the Rangers back to the table, and when Yvonne nodded, Nell turned toward the men. Despite their observing the surrounding tables, she caught their attention rather easily. Boren met her eyes first, then subtly tapped his friend's arm with the back of his hand, and they both stood.

As soon as they had taken their seats before the girls once again, Lorthon asked, "Have you decided?" His eyes shifted between Nell and Yvonne, and Nell gave their answer.

"We will accept your escort to Rivendell, and we thank you deeply for your generosity." Somehow, even such formal words did not feel adequate.

"Very good," replied Lorthon. "We shall leave at once—if you are not over-tired from your journey thus far," he added.

Nell's legs and feet were indeed a bit tired, despite her ride in the cart, and the thought of setting out again so soon was not all too appealing. However, she also did not like the idea of wasting time—and making the men wait for them to rest. And then there was the matter of paying for a room, and she really didn't want the Rangers to offer to do that in addition to taking them to Rivendell.

Before Nell or Yvonne could respond either way, Boren spoke. "We have horses, and we can acquire two in addition."

"That would be wonderful," Yvonne breathed, sounding relieved.

Boren nodded, and the two men rose. "We'll make arrangements for travel whilst the two of you finish your meal. When you are ready, meet us in front of the inn. The stables are around back—I will be preparing the horses while Lorthon gathers our supplies. If anyone troubles you, I will be able to come to your aid swiftly." He paused and looked around the inn. "I will speak to Havarr and remind him you are under our protection. I do not think anyone will trouble you."

Nell had never ridden a horse in her life, but she was willing to try if it meant saving her feet from three hundred miles of toil.

She looked down at the remnants of her stew as the men left, and though her appetite had mostly fled, she forced down a few more bites, now knowing how easily food would come to them on the journey.

Note: You may have guessed, but in case you haven't read the books, Boren, Lorthon and Havarr are three of our original characters~