DISCLAIMER: I do not own the fabulous works of the Lord of the Rings. If I did do you think I'd be writing this? Anything you recognize as Tolkien's or of Tamora Pierce (I highly recommend that you read her books!) is not mine. All I own is Vaitya.
To Matrixelf: I'm super glad you like it! Strider is like an old friend of the family type of thing. It goes more in-depth in future chapters. I don't want to ruin any of the surprise now! I'm can't believe I'm on your favorite list! I am so honored! Thank you so much! Enjoy!
XXXXChapter 3: Kingsfoil
The hobbits' and I are staying in Strider's room for the night. He will not even let me tell Tilly where I am. I sent her a note anyway. Well I really told her I was staying at the stables, as one of the new horses is sick. She'll buy it, I hope. I have stayed there before instead of going home with her as we usually do. She is like my surrogate mother figure. She took over raising me when my parents died.
I can't seem to fall asleep. The hobbits were out when their heads hit the pillow. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours but was really minutes. I finally give up taking the chair next to Strider.
"Well what have you been up to recently?" I'm trying to start a pleasant conversation.
"Roaming in the wilderness. We have certain 'tasks' to finish," Strider uses the hand signs as to not wake the hobbits.
"Oh? Like what?" I'm trying to keep the discussion on an even level. I really don't want to talk about the cups.
"How did you hold up the goblets?" Damn it I don't want to tell, "It was magic was it not?"
"Yes it was magic."
A cease in motion stretches as he waits for me to continue.
"And?"
"And what?"
"How did you do it?"
"I can't explain it. I just can all right. Why don't we talk about something else."
"Alright. You will eventually have to show it though."
Another stopping of hand gestures fills the room.
"How's your horse?" I say.
"He's fine. Your horses that you take care of, how are they?"
"They are good. Healthy."
"That's good."
We, yet again, have nothing to talk about. Just as I am to try to further our conversation a piercing screech is heard from outside.
"What are they?" Frodo asks.
He moved to the side of the bed facing the window. All the hobbits were now awake.
"They were once men. Great Kings of Men," Strider informs us, "Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them 9 rings of power. Blinded by their greed they took them without question. One by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths. At all times they feel the power of the ring. Drawn to the power of the one. They will never stop hunting you.
"The one ring. It's been found? But Sauron was destroyed!" I am more then a little afraid. My mother would tell me stories of the last alliance and of the ring. Such stories stay in the mind for a long time.
"But the ring was not," Strider said, "meaning that Sauron survived."
The hobbits did not need to ask for a translation to understand what I was saying.
"We must leave at first light," Strider said.
"I'll set up some horses for you when you go."
"No Vaitya. There is a mistrust of elves here. It is no longer safe for you in Bree."
"This is my home."
No way was I going to be ripped from the only place I have friends.
"Many of the men saw you do magic. They will try something against you soon to either kill you or deliver you to the enemy."
"No. I'm not going. That's final."
Let's see him try to push me around.
XXXX
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-Meemyselfi
