** Chapter 1 **
Frodo sat at a table at the Prancing Pony, In Bree. He sat in silence, watching Pippin and Merry talking the ears off of a few
humans and dwarves. He felt relieved he wasn't the one having to talk, he was too tired to think much. He was quite tired from
their long trek through the Old Forest. He was still a little shaken from falling into the pond and almost drowning, and also,
because Pippin and Merry were practically swallowed by the Old Willow tree.
Across from him sat Strider, who he had only known for a matter of minutes, and already he felt distrustful of the man. The
man had introduced himself as Strider, and he seemed to be hiding something.
The sound of the door to the Common room opening made him glance at the door. He instantly felt a shiver run down his spine
at the figure who stepped in.
A figure, not quite as short as a hobbit, but not too much taller entered, clad in a long black cloak and hood. It had to be one
of the Black Riders.
All eyes were briefly turned to the figure and watched as it moved from the door to a table near where Frodo, himself, sat.
He caught himself fingering the Ring in his pocket, and quickly removed his hand. The urge to put the ring on and become
invisible was so enticing, but he shook it off.
Noise and laughter returned to the Common room, as the figure was quickly forgotten.
The figure seemed to be staring at the table, it's hood was drooping rather low. It pulled out a rolled up map from some
pocket and the person unscrolled it and seemed to be looking over it.
Frodo stared at the figure, unable to distinguish what it was, it's body and face was so cleverly disguised he could not even
guess it's gender.
As if it felt Frodo's stare, the creature turned to stare at Frodo, and even with it staring at him, the hood hung so low all he
could see was a pointed, peach-colored chin. The figure looked quickly away then looked back to it's map.
Frodo couldn't shake the uneasy feeling the stranger gave him.
He continued to watch his companions, and noticed Merry was not to be seen. Frodo idly wondered where he had wandered
off to.
Frodo glanced at his friend Pippin, who was engrossed in telling a story of Bilbo's last birthday, in which he disappeared in a
puff of smoke.
"Well, Master Underhill," Strider said, with a small smirk," if I were you, I would stop your young friends from talking too
much. Drink, fire, and chance meeting are pleasant, but, well, this isn't the Shire. There are weird people about."
Frodo glanced at Strider, then back at Pippin, growing nervous.
It was a harmless enough tale, Bilbo's last birthday, but the part of him vanishing would bring the Baggins' name into question,
and that made Frodo fidget.
Pippin was well enjoying the attention, and seemed to forget their danger. In his present state, he might even mention the ring.
Frodo grew more fidgety, sensing something like that would be very disastrous.
"You had better do something quick.... " Strider whispered in Frodo's ear.
Frodo jumped up and stood up on the table, and began talking. The people listening to Pippin stopped, and looked toward
Frodo. A few laughed and clapped, thinking that Mr.Underhill had taken more ale than was good for him.
Frodo suddenly felt very foolish, and found himself, out of habit when making a speech, fingering the things in his pocket.
He felt the Ring on it's chain, and felt the sudden urge to slip it on and vanish out of this silly situation. It seemed to him, that
the sensation, the urge came from someone or something inside or outside the room. He resisted the temptation firmly, and
clasped the Ring in his hand, his hand staying in his pocket, as if to keep the ring from committing any mischief. At any rate it
gave him no inspiration as to what to say.
He coughed lightly, then said, "We all are very gratified by your reception, and I venture to hope that my brief visit will help to
renew old ties of friendship between the Shire and Bree." He looked about the room, and coughed again, feeling very nervous.
Everyone in the room was now looking at him, save the black-clad stranger.
"A song!"
"A song! A song!" Shouted the others.
"Come on now, Master, sing us something we have never heard before!"
For a moment Frodo stood gaping. Then in desperation he began singing a song that Bilbo was very fond of (and he himself
was indeed rather fond of, for he made the words up himself).It was about an inn, and that is why it came to Frodo's mind.
There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath a gray old hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his full.
The osler cat
that plays free-stringed fiddle
And up and down he runs his bow
Now squeaking high, now purring low
now sawing in the middle
The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes
When there's good cheer among the guests
He cocks an ear to all the jests
and laughs until he chokes
They also keep a horned cow
as proud as any queen
But music turns her head like ale
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green
And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons
For Sunday there's a special pair
And these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep
and the cat began to wail
A dish and a spoon on the table danced
The cow in the garden madly danced
And the little dog chased his tail.
The Man in the Moon took another mug
and then rolled beneath his chair
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale
Till in the sky the stars were pale
and down was in the air
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat
"The white horses of the Moon
They neigh and clamp their silver bits
But their master's been and drown his wits
and the Sun'll be rising soon!"
So the cat on his fiddle played a hey-diddle-diddle
a jig that would wake the dead
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon
"It's after three!" he said
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon
While his horses galloped up in rear
And the cow came capering like a deer
and a dish ran up with the spoon
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle
the dog began to roar
The cow and the horses stood on their heads
The guests all bounced from their beds
and danced upon the floor
With a ping and a pong the fiddle strings broke!
and the cow jumped over the Moon
And the little dog laughed to see such fun
And Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silvery Sunday spoon
The round Moon rolled behind the hill
as the Sun raised up her head
She hardly believed her fiery eyes
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed!
There was a loud and long applause. Frodo had a good voice, and the song was well received.
"Where's old Barley?" They cried." He ought to hear this. Bob ought to learn his cat the fiddle, and then we'd have a dance."
They called for more ale and began to shout," Let's have it again, master! Come on now! Once more!"
They made Frodo have another drink, and then he began his song again, while many of them joined in, for the tune was well
known, and they were catching on to the words. It was Frodo's turn to feel pleased with himself. He capered about on the
table, and when he came a second time to the cow jumped over the moon, he leapt into the air. Much too vigorously, for
he came down hard, he fell into a tray full of mugs, and slipped, and rolled off the table with clatter, crash, and thump.
The audience all opened their mouths wide for laughter, and stopped short in gaping silence, for the singer had disappeared.
He simply vanished, as if he fell through the floor without even leaving a hole.
The local tenants stared in amazement, and then sprang to their feet and shouted for Barliman. All the company drew away
from Pippin and Sam, who found themselves left alone in a corner, and eyed darkly and doubtfully from a distance. It was
plain that many of the people now regarded them as companions of a traveling magician of unknown power and purpose.
A few of the Bree-landers, and a southerner slipped out the door, exchanging smirks.
That made Pippin and Sam grow nervous. They stood rather close, watching everyone else from the corner.
Frodo felt like a fool. Not knowing what else to do, he crawled away under the tables to the dark corner by Strider, who
sat unmoved, giving no sign of his thoughts. Frodo leaned back against the wall, and took off his ring. How it came to be on
his finger, he did not know. He supposed he was handling it in his pocket while he sang, and that somehow it had slid on when
he had pulled his hand out with a jerk to catch his fall. For a moment he purposed that maybe the ring had not played a trick
on him, but rather, perhaps it had tried to reveal itself from some kind of command or wish in the room. He did not like the
looks of the men that had gone out.
"Well?" Strider said, after he had reappeared, "Why did you do you do that? Worse than any of your friends could have said!
You have put your foot in it! Or should I say finger?"
"I don't know what you mean." Frodo said, annoyed and alarmed. He carefully slipped the ring back into his pocket. He felt
his face was flushed, and he was starting to sweat nervously.
"Oh yes, you do," Strider answered," But we had better wait until the uproar has died down. Then, if you please, Mr. Baggins,
I would like a quiet word with you."
"What about?" Frodo asked, ignoring the sudden use of his proper name.
"A matter of some importance, to both of us. You may hear something to your advantage." He said, standing.
"Very well, "Frodo said, trying to seem unconcerned, "I'll talk to you later."
Frodo moved to head upstairs. Pippin and Sam also moved toward the stairs, trying to not notice the sideways glances and
stares they were getting, and tried not to hear all the muttering and whispering.
------
The figure in black had slipped out from the commotion after the hobbit had fallen and disappeared. The figure was making
way to the stables, and stopped at what it saw.
The stable gates were wide open and no horses or ponies were to be seen. The figure crouched and looked at the hoof prints
on the ground. Each set seemed to lead into another direction.
A cracking sound of a twig made the figure stand quickly and turn. As it turned, it looked about for the cause of the sound.
There was nothing but dark windowed houses and empty streets.
The figure reach it's hands up and pulled back its hood.
Strands of gold fell out of the hood and framed the delicate face of a female. She had pointed ears much like an elf, but she
was much too short to be an elf. Her eyes were pale blue rimmed with a bright violet, a color never seen in eyes. Her pupils
were large as she stared through the darkness, but she saw no sign of anything that could have made the loud cracking sound.
She turned slowly, and headed back to the inn, carefully lifting her hood and putting it over her head.
--------
Frodo sat on the edge of the bed in the room they were staying in, staring at the letter Gandalf had left with the innkeeper,
Barliman. And the man Strider, who his true name was Aragorn.
Sam and Pippin both were already asleep on their beds, and Merry was lying down trying to sleep.
Frodo tucked the letter into a pocket of his coat, then laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. His hands were laid
over his chest, and he could feel his heart beating quickly. His hands felt sweaty, and he closed his eyes trying to get himself
to calm down. But still, his heart beat would not slow. Everything was on his mind. Black Riders. Mordor. Bilbo. Gandalf.
The ring.
He opened his eyes and then closed them, trying to rid his mind of all the thoughts and images.
Tomorrow they would continue their journey to Rivendale. It would be hard. It would be long. It had been so far, and very
tiring, and very long so far. He ran a hand down his stomach and noticed he had lost a small amount of weight on the trip.
He wasn't fat to begin with, but he didn't want to be unhealthily thin. They would have to eat more often.
He sighed and closed his eyes and let himself slowly fall asleep.
----
Getting out of the town was fairly easy, but all of the horses had been driven off, and they could only find one horse, which
they used to carry food, blankets, and equipment. They had gotten quite a few stares as they passed through, but that was
several hours ago. Now, they moved along a wet, marshy area, which was very moist, and made it uncomfortable walking
for them.
More annoying than the heat and the dampness, was mosquitoes. They were tormenting, and flew up their sleeves and in their
hair.
"I am being eaten alive!!" Pippin cried, frantically waving his hand about his head, trying to ward away mosquitoes, but to no
avail. "Midgewater! There are more midges here than water!"
"What do they live on when they can't get a hobbit?" Sam asked, scratching his neck.
Frodo laughed at the question, but not for long. The mosquitoes were bugging him too. He waved off a few, which were
quickly replaced by another swarm. He frowned, and continued walking, annoyed they wouldn't leave him be.
Strider stopped in place, and held up a hand for them to be still and quiet.
Frodo froze and looked about. He didn't hear anything.
Then he heard it.
Very light, soft steps. Rustling leaves, far off, but they quickly stopped.
"We're being followed..."Strider said, looking about. He frowned. "Stealthy bastard, I haven't heard him until now." He pulled
out his sword.
Merry and Pippin both were laying flat on the ground, fearing it would be a Black Rider, and that it may be sniffing them out.
The footsteps resumed, and then they saw it.
A figure in black approached them.
Strider frowned, the figure was much shorter than most of the Black Riders he knew of. He kept his sword drawn, wary of
the stranger.
The figure drew closer, about twenty feet from them before it stopped. It stood staring at them from under a low hanging
black hood.
"Who are you?" Frodo called, growing nervous and scared. He caught himself clutching the ring.
The stranger did not reply, but soon drew out a large bow and a silver arrow.
"Oh no!" Pippin shouted, diving behind a tree.
Sam moved in front of Frodo holding up his arms to shield him.
Strider was already moving toward the creature with his sword ready.
The stranger cocked the shiny silver arrow and quickly loosed it.
It flew past Strider, past the ducked Merry, past Frodo and Sam.
A loud howling sound was heard, and Strider stopped in his tracks and whirled, then cursed. "Damn Creeper! What the heck
is one of these doing in this marsh??"
Sam, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin all looked at the slumped form of the hairy beast. It was a cunning carnivore,who was known
to move stealthily through forests and was known to attack anything.
All eyes turned back to the stranger.
The black-robed person lowered it's bow, then set it on the ground and walked straight up to Frodo and bent to one knee.
The person took a black gloved hand and took Frodo's hand, whom only gaped in surprise, and drew off it's glove, revealing
a slim hand tattooed with a small black ring. The person held Frodo's wrist, then pulled back it's hood.
Merry, Frodo, Pippin, and Sam gaped at the person they saw.
A young woman with short gold hair cut just below her chin was the dark clad stranger.
But made them mostly gaped were her bright blue eyes that were rimmed with violet.
Finally she spoke, "Bearer of the One Ring, I am your servant. I have come far to find you, and I am here to be in your
service, to protect and watch over you." The determination in her soft voice seemed truthful.
Strider stared at the mark on the girl's hand. "Who are you?" He asked, sheathing his sword.
She kept her eyes on Frodo and slowly stood. "I am Azura a'Leoni. I am of a died-out heritage, a long died-out one."
"The Order of the Ring..."Strider mumbled lightly, "Impossible! Their blood ran out long ago..."
"I am of their blood, the last. You can doubt my word, all of you can but I am here to serve my birth-right and purpose, to
protect the Bearer. If I have to, I will just tail you and ward off all trouble." Azura said.
Pippin had moved from behind the tree and stood next to Sam and Merry. He spoke up," But why are you dressed like a
Black Rider?"
"Ringwraith.... heh, I saw how easily they were slipping through towns without question, I thought it best to disguise myself as
one. I am sorry if that made you think ill of my intentions." Azura apologized. She dropped to one knee again and bowed her
head," I am only here to protect the Bearer, I am not here to harm."
"Please do not do that.." Frodo said, feeling uneasy with the girl bowing to him as if he were some kind of king.
The girl stood quickly. She lifted the black robe up over her head and tossed it aside." You have no idea how hot it is to wear
that." She remarked. She was the same height as Frodo, but had the fair look of an elven girl, and big, beautiful eyes like the
violet skies before a storm.
Below her robe she wore a elaborately designed outfit, much more than anything Frodo or any of the other Hobbits had seen.
She wore a medium-sky blue top with a darker blue circle pattern, and bright yellow hemming and line patterns outside the
circle patterns. The shirt tied in the back. Small green dangling stones hung from the hem of the shirt. Her stomach was bare,
and she wore a loose pair of dark blue pants that were cut off above her knees, and also, she had a brown belt on with a few
item bags hanging of. Tan-white wrappings were around her fore arms and upper arms, and wrapped around her thigh beneath
her pants. She had on lace up brown leather boots that laced up to just below her knees.
About her forehead was a simple jewelry piece of a blue stone on a pearl chain and clipped into her hair, holding the blue
stone on her forehead. And around her neck was a beautiful blue, red, and green stoned necklace.
She wore a book bag on her back, which had made her seemed hunch back when she had the black robe on. She took it
off and pulled out a cream colored shirt and slipped it on, then put her book bag back on, then went and recovered her bow,
which surprisingly, the ends had blades on them.
"I wish to join you. If you will not allow my company, I will follow you to the ends of the earth. Either way. I will complete my
birth duty." She said, smiling with a determination.
.
Frodo sat at a table at the Prancing Pony, In Bree. He sat in silence, watching Pippin and Merry talking the ears off of a few
humans and dwarves. He felt relieved he wasn't the one having to talk, he was too tired to think much. He was quite tired from
their long trek through the Old Forest. He was still a little shaken from falling into the pond and almost drowning, and also,
because Pippin and Merry were practically swallowed by the Old Willow tree.
Across from him sat Strider, who he had only known for a matter of minutes, and already he felt distrustful of the man. The
man had introduced himself as Strider, and he seemed to be hiding something.
The sound of the door to the Common room opening made him glance at the door. He instantly felt a shiver run down his spine
at the figure who stepped in.
A figure, not quite as short as a hobbit, but not too much taller entered, clad in a long black cloak and hood. It had to be one
of the Black Riders.
All eyes were briefly turned to the figure and watched as it moved from the door to a table near where Frodo, himself, sat.
He caught himself fingering the Ring in his pocket, and quickly removed his hand. The urge to put the ring on and become
invisible was so enticing, but he shook it off.
Noise and laughter returned to the Common room, as the figure was quickly forgotten.
The figure seemed to be staring at the table, it's hood was drooping rather low. It pulled out a rolled up map from some
pocket and the person unscrolled it and seemed to be looking over it.
Frodo stared at the figure, unable to distinguish what it was, it's body and face was so cleverly disguised he could not even
guess it's gender.
As if it felt Frodo's stare, the creature turned to stare at Frodo, and even with it staring at him, the hood hung so low all he
could see was a pointed, peach-colored chin. The figure looked quickly away then looked back to it's map.
Frodo couldn't shake the uneasy feeling the stranger gave him.
He continued to watch his companions, and noticed Merry was not to be seen. Frodo idly wondered where he had wandered
off to.
Frodo glanced at his friend Pippin, who was engrossed in telling a story of Bilbo's last birthday, in which he disappeared in a
puff of smoke.
"Well, Master Underhill," Strider said, with a small smirk," if I were you, I would stop your young friends from talking too
much. Drink, fire, and chance meeting are pleasant, but, well, this isn't the Shire. There are weird people about."
Frodo glanced at Strider, then back at Pippin, growing nervous.
It was a harmless enough tale, Bilbo's last birthday, but the part of him vanishing would bring the Baggins' name into question,
and that made Frodo fidget.
Pippin was well enjoying the attention, and seemed to forget their danger. In his present state, he might even mention the ring.
Frodo grew more fidgety, sensing something like that would be very disastrous.
"You had better do something quick.... " Strider whispered in Frodo's ear.
Frodo jumped up and stood up on the table, and began talking. The people listening to Pippin stopped, and looked toward
Frodo. A few laughed and clapped, thinking that Mr.Underhill had taken more ale than was good for him.
Frodo suddenly felt very foolish, and found himself, out of habit when making a speech, fingering the things in his pocket.
He felt the Ring on it's chain, and felt the sudden urge to slip it on and vanish out of this silly situation. It seemed to him, that
the sensation, the urge came from someone or something inside or outside the room. He resisted the temptation firmly, and
clasped the Ring in his hand, his hand staying in his pocket, as if to keep the ring from committing any mischief. At any rate it
gave him no inspiration as to what to say.
He coughed lightly, then said, "We all are very gratified by your reception, and I venture to hope that my brief visit will help to
renew old ties of friendship between the Shire and Bree." He looked about the room, and coughed again, feeling very nervous.
Everyone in the room was now looking at him, save the black-clad stranger.
"A song!"
"A song! A song!" Shouted the others.
"Come on now, Master, sing us something we have never heard before!"
For a moment Frodo stood gaping. Then in desperation he began singing a song that Bilbo was very fond of (and he himself
was indeed rather fond of, for he made the words up himself).It was about an inn, and that is why it came to Frodo's mind.
There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath a gray old hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his full.
The osler cat
that plays free-stringed fiddle
And up and down he runs his bow
Now squeaking high, now purring low
now sawing in the middle
The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes
When there's good cheer among the guests
He cocks an ear to all the jests
and laughs until he chokes
They also keep a horned cow
as proud as any queen
But music turns her head like ale
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green
And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons
For Sunday there's a special pair
And these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep
and the cat began to wail
A dish and a spoon on the table danced
The cow in the garden madly danced
And the little dog chased his tail.
The Man in the Moon took another mug
and then rolled beneath his chair
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale
Till in the sky the stars were pale
and down was in the air
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat
"The white horses of the Moon
They neigh and clamp their silver bits
But their master's been and drown his wits
and the Sun'll be rising soon!"
So the cat on his fiddle played a hey-diddle-diddle
a jig that would wake the dead
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon
"It's after three!" he said
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon
While his horses galloped up in rear
And the cow came capering like a deer
and a dish ran up with the spoon
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle
the dog began to roar
The cow and the horses stood on their heads
The guests all bounced from their beds
and danced upon the floor
With a ping and a pong the fiddle strings broke!
and the cow jumped over the Moon
And the little dog laughed to see such fun
And Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silvery Sunday spoon
The round Moon rolled behind the hill
as the Sun raised up her head
She hardly believed her fiery eyes
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed!
There was a loud and long applause. Frodo had a good voice, and the song was well received.
"Where's old Barley?" They cried." He ought to hear this. Bob ought to learn his cat the fiddle, and then we'd have a dance."
They called for more ale and began to shout," Let's have it again, master! Come on now! Once more!"
They made Frodo have another drink, and then he began his song again, while many of them joined in, for the tune was well
known, and they were catching on to the words. It was Frodo's turn to feel pleased with himself. He capered about on the
table, and when he came a second time to the cow jumped over the moon, he leapt into the air. Much too vigorously, for
he came down hard, he fell into a tray full of mugs, and slipped, and rolled off the table with clatter, crash, and thump.
The audience all opened their mouths wide for laughter, and stopped short in gaping silence, for the singer had disappeared.
He simply vanished, as if he fell through the floor without even leaving a hole.
The local tenants stared in amazement, and then sprang to their feet and shouted for Barliman. All the company drew away
from Pippin and Sam, who found themselves left alone in a corner, and eyed darkly and doubtfully from a distance. It was
plain that many of the people now regarded them as companions of a traveling magician of unknown power and purpose.
A few of the Bree-landers, and a southerner slipped out the door, exchanging smirks.
That made Pippin and Sam grow nervous. They stood rather close, watching everyone else from the corner.
Frodo felt like a fool. Not knowing what else to do, he crawled away under the tables to the dark corner by Strider, who
sat unmoved, giving no sign of his thoughts. Frodo leaned back against the wall, and took off his ring. How it came to be on
his finger, he did not know. He supposed he was handling it in his pocket while he sang, and that somehow it had slid on when
he had pulled his hand out with a jerk to catch his fall. For a moment he purposed that maybe the ring had not played a trick
on him, but rather, perhaps it had tried to reveal itself from some kind of command or wish in the room. He did not like the
looks of the men that had gone out.
"Well?" Strider said, after he had reappeared, "Why did you do you do that? Worse than any of your friends could have said!
You have put your foot in it! Or should I say finger?"
"I don't know what you mean." Frodo said, annoyed and alarmed. He carefully slipped the ring back into his pocket. He felt
his face was flushed, and he was starting to sweat nervously.
"Oh yes, you do," Strider answered," But we had better wait until the uproar has died down. Then, if you please, Mr. Baggins,
I would like a quiet word with you."
"What about?" Frodo asked, ignoring the sudden use of his proper name.
"A matter of some importance, to both of us. You may hear something to your advantage." He said, standing.
"Very well, "Frodo said, trying to seem unconcerned, "I'll talk to you later."
Frodo moved to head upstairs. Pippin and Sam also moved toward the stairs, trying to not notice the sideways glances and
stares they were getting, and tried not to hear all the muttering and whispering.
------
The figure in black had slipped out from the commotion after the hobbit had fallen and disappeared. The figure was making
way to the stables, and stopped at what it saw.
The stable gates were wide open and no horses or ponies were to be seen. The figure crouched and looked at the hoof prints
on the ground. Each set seemed to lead into another direction.
A cracking sound of a twig made the figure stand quickly and turn. As it turned, it looked about for the cause of the sound.
There was nothing but dark windowed houses and empty streets.
The figure reach it's hands up and pulled back its hood.
Strands of gold fell out of the hood and framed the delicate face of a female. She had pointed ears much like an elf, but she
was much too short to be an elf. Her eyes were pale blue rimmed with a bright violet, a color never seen in eyes. Her pupils
were large as she stared through the darkness, but she saw no sign of anything that could have made the loud cracking sound.
She turned slowly, and headed back to the inn, carefully lifting her hood and putting it over her head.
--------
Frodo sat on the edge of the bed in the room they were staying in, staring at the letter Gandalf had left with the innkeeper,
Barliman. And the man Strider, who his true name was Aragorn.
Sam and Pippin both were already asleep on their beds, and Merry was lying down trying to sleep.
Frodo tucked the letter into a pocket of his coat, then laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. His hands were laid
over his chest, and he could feel his heart beating quickly. His hands felt sweaty, and he closed his eyes trying to get himself
to calm down. But still, his heart beat would not slow. Everything was on his mind. Black Riders. Mordor. Bilbo. Gandalf.
The ring.
He opened his eyes and then closed them, trying to rid his mind of all the thoughts and images.
Tomorrow they would continue their journey to Rivendale. It would be hard. It would be long. It had been so far, and very
tiring, and very long so far. He ran a hand down his stomach and noticed he had lost a small amount of weight on the trip.
He wasn't fat to begin with, but he didn't want to be unhealthily thin. They would have to eat more often.
He sighed and closed his eyes and let himself slowly fall asleep.
----
Getting out of the town was fairly easy, but all of the horses had been driven off, and they could only find one horse, which
they used to carry food, blankets, and equipment. They had gotten quite a few stares as they passed through, but that was
several hours ago. Now, they moved along a wet, marshy area, which was very moist, and made it uncomfortable walking
for them.
More annoying than the heat and the dampness, was mosquitoes. They were tormenting, and flew up their sleeves and in their
hair.
"I am being eaten alive!!" Pippin cried, frantically waving his hand about his head, trying to ward away mosquitoes, but to no
avail. "Midgewater! There are more midges here than water!"
"What do they live on when they can't get a hobbit?" Sam asked, scratching his neck.
Frodo laughed at the question, but not for long. The mosquitoes were bugging him too. He waved off a few, which were
quickly replaced by another swarm. He frowned, and continued walking, annoyed they wouldn't leave him be.
Strider stopped in place, and held up a hand for them to be still and quiet.
Frodo froze and looked about. He didn't hear anything.
Then he heard it.
Very light, soft steps. Rustling leaves, far off, but they quickly stopped.
"We're being followed..."Strider said, looking about. He frowned. "Stealthy bastard, I haven't heard him until now." He pulled
out his sword.
Merry and Pippin both were laying flat on the ground, fearing it would be a Black Rider, and that it may be sniffing them out.
The footsteps resumed, and then they saw it.
A figure in black approached them.
Strider frowned, the figure was much shorter than most of the Black Riders he knew of. He kept his sword drawn, wary of
the stranger.
The figure drew closer, about twenty feet from them before it stopped. It stood staring at them from under a low hanging
black hood.
"Who are you?" Frodo called, growing nervous and scared. He caught himself clutching the ring.
The stranger did not reply, but soon drew out a large bow and a silver arrow.
"Oh no!" Pippin shouted, diving behind a tree.
Sam moved in front of Frodo holding up his arms to shield him.
Strider was already moving toward the creature with his sword ready.
The stranger cocked the shiny silver arrow and quickly loosed it.
It flew past Strider, past the ducked Merry, past Frodo and Sam.
A loud howling sound was heard, and Strider stopped in his tracks and whirled, then cursed. "Damn Creeper! What the heck
is one of these doing in this marsh??"
Sam, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin all looked at the slumped form of the hairy beast. It was a cunning carnivore,who was known
to move stealthily through forests and was known to attack anything.
All eyes turned back to the stranger.
The black-robed person lowered it's bow, then set it on the ground and walked straight up to Frodo and bent to one knee.
The person took a black gloved hand and took Frodo's hand, whom only gaped in surprise, and drew off it's glove, revealing
a slim hand tattooed with a small black ring. The person held Frodo's wrist, then pulled back it's hood.
Merry, Frodo, Pippin, and Sam gaped at the person they saw.
A young woman with short gold hair cut just below her chin was the dark clad stranger.
But made them mostly gaped were her bright blue eyes that were rimmed with violet.
Finally she spoke, "Bearer of the One Ring, I am your servant. I have come far to find you, and I am here to be in your
service, to protect and watch over you." The determination in her soft voice seemed truthful.
Strider stared at the mark on the girl's hand. "Who are you?" He asked, sheathing his sword.
She kept her eyes on Frodo and slowly stood. "I am Azura a'Leoni. I am of a died-out heritage, a long died-out one."
"The Order of the Ring..."Strider mumbled lightly, "Impossible! Their blood ran out long ago..."
"I am of their blood, the last. You can doubt my word, all of you can but I am here to serve my birth-right and purpose, to
protect the Bearer. If I have to, I will just tail you and ward off all trouble." Azura said.
Pippin had moved from behind the tree and stood next to Sam and Merry. He spoke up," But why are you dressed like a
Black Rider?"
"Ringwraith.... heh, I saw how easily they were slipping through towns without question, I thought it best to disguise myself as
one. I am sorry if that made you think ill of my intentions." Azura apologized. She dropped to one knee again and bowed her
head," I am only here to protect the Bearer, I am not here to harm."
"Please do not do that.." Frodo said, feeling uneasy with the girl bowing to him as if he were some kind of king.
The girl stood quickly. She lifted the black robe up over her head and tossed it aside." You have no idea how hot it is to wear
that." She remarked. She was the same height as Frodo, but had the fair look of an elven girl, and big, beautiful eyes like the
violet skies before a storm.
Below her robe she wore a elaborately designed outfit, much more than anything Frodo or any of the other Hobbits had seen.
She wore a medium-sky blue top with a darker blue circle pattern, and bright yellow hemming and line patterns outside the
circle patterns. The shirt tied in the back. Small green dangling stones hung from the hem of the shirt. Her stomach was bare,
and she wore a loose pair of dark blue pants that were cut off above her knees, and also, she had a brown belt on with a few
item bags hanging of. Tan-white wrappings were around her fore arms and upper arms, and wrapped around her thigh beneath
her pants. She had on lace up brown leather boots that laced up to just below her knees.
About her forehead was a simple jewelry piece of a blue stone on a pearl chain and clipped into her hair, holding the blue
stone on her forehead. And around her neck was a beautiful blue, red, and green stoned necklace.
She wore a book bag on her back, which had made her seemed hunch back when she had the black robe on. She took it
off and pulled out a cream colored shirt and slipped it on, then put her book bag back on, then went and recovered her bow,
which surprisingly, the ends had blades on them.
"I wish to join you. If you will not allow my company, I will follow you to the ends of the earth. Either way. I will complete my
birth duty." She said, smiling with a determination.
.
