Chapter 9

Pale dawn light touched the wooden outer gate of Bree, and Lori sagged in her saddle.

They'd stopped again to rest a few miles away from their previous campsite. Lori had managed to snag a couple of hours of sleep before jolting awake, terrified that strangers were lurking somewhere in the trees. At Aragorn's quiet suggestion, they'd ridden through the night to reach Bree.

She sighed and rubbed at the skin beneath her eyes. She would've given just about anything for a coffee, or even an energy drink—though she'd given those up during her first year of college. She tried to straighten her hair, wrestling with a few knots near the back of her head. There was nothing to do about her exhaustion, but she could at least try to look presentable while she was looking for work.

There was a deep ditch running parallel to the fence, with a raised embankment closing the gap between the road on either side. As they drew closer, Lori realized the gate wasn't wooden at all, but rather a thick, dark hedge that rose more than six feet high. Part of the hedge had been cut away to make room for a pair of wooden doors, the small green leaves framing the entrance in a quaint pattern.

Their horses paused before the gate. Before Lori could ask if they were supposed to knock, a small slat in the door slid to the side, creating an opening just large enough for someone to peer through.

A man with deep-set eyes gazed out at them. "Early morning arrival, eh? What business do you have here?"

"I've come to replenish some of my supplies, and my companion is seeking work," Aragorn replied.

The man was silent for a long moment, and Lori began to worry that he would deny them entry. Though maybe that would give her an opportunity for a nap.

The door creaked open a moment later, revealing the tall, oval-faced gatekeeper. He stared openly at the sword on Aragorn's belt as they passed, and Lori tightened her grip on the reins.

She relaxed slightly as they rode further into the town. On the left were fields combed with late-autumn grass and dotted with a few grazing cows. On the right was a row of stone houses, some of them trimmed with faded carvings or bunches of dried herbs. The gentle slope of a hill rose behind the row of houses, its upper reaches ringed with more buildings. While it had none of the majesty of Rivendell, the place had a simple charm about it.

"So, how do I go about actually getting a job?" Lori asked. "Should I start knocking on doors, or…?"

Aragorn pointed down the road, where the buildings were taller and more compact. "That way leads to Old-town. You'll find the Inn of the Prancing Pony on your right. The innkeeper knows most of the people in Bree, and he should be able to help you find work."

He was giving her directions, she realized with a sideways glance. "You're, um, not coming with me?"

She felt childish for asking the question. He'd offered to take her to Bree, and now that that was done, he likely had more important things to take care of.

Aragorn met her gaze. "Rangers are not often well-received here. I believe it would do harm to your credibility if I were to accompany you." He gestured to the rabbits tied to his saddle. "I'm going to see if I can find a buyer for these. We'll meet by the well when you are finished."

She relaxed at his assurance even as she thought back to the confrontation last night, how a mere mention of Rangers had caused three armed men to back away.

"People are afraid of y—of Rangers?"

A small smile twitched on his lips. "Our reputation is something of a double-edged sword." They came to a fork in the road, and he paused. "I wish you good fortune in your search, Lori."

She nodded, her heart warming. "Good luck with your…rabbits. I'll see you in a few."

With that, she nudged her horse onward, towards the row of tall wooden buildings. The stone houses smelled like leather and baked goods. People were already beginning their day, opening workshops and market stalls.

Several of them paused to stare at her as she passed. After making eye contact with a couple, Lori focused on keeping her gaze ahead, her cheeks heating up. Were her clothes weird? Was this a pedestrian-only street? She reminded herself to look for the sign of the inn, fingers kneading at the reins to soothe her anxiety.

The trip down the street felt like an eternity, and once she set eyes on the green wooden sign heralding the Prancing Pony, the butterflies in her stomach only doubled. She dismounted and led her horse up to the door, then hesitated.

What, do I parallel park my horse out front? she thought. Then, God, I'm going to go insane if I don't get this over with soon.

"Stopping by the inn, miss?"

She whirled around at the voice. A boy on the tail end of a growth spurt was coming from an alley next to the inn. He gestured to her horse.

"I can take this one to the stables, if you like."

"Um, sure. Thanks." She nodded, and the boy took her horse by the reins and led it back into the alley. Belatedly, she wondered if she should have taken her pack or asked how much she would be charged, but he was already gone.

Okay. She wiped her sweating palms on her skirt. Let's do this.

Lori pushed open the door to the inn and stepped inside. Warm air from a blazing hearth greeted her, and she let out a small sigh of relief. To her left was what she assumed to be the reception counter, and the rest of the room was dedicated to a bar and some tables. A few patrons were already up, talking in low voices over bowls of porridge and ale.

A man emerged from a back room and stepped behind the counter, placing a small wooden box beneath. "Morning, miss. Looking for a room, or just breakfast?"

"Good morning." Lori smiled and stepped closer to the counter. "I'm actually looking for work. I was hoping you could help me with that."

The man's smile faltered, his mustache falling flat over his lips. "I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place. This here is a respectable establishment, see, and we don't want any—"

"No," Lori cut in, finally catching on. "Oh my god, no. I meant, like, mending clothes or farming or something." Her face flushed with heat. "Sorry. I'm really new to this area, and I wasn't sure how to ask…"

"Ah, I see." To her relief, the man seemed somewhat embarrassed at his presumption. "Well, pardon my mistake." He drummed his fingers on the counter. "I don't know that there's much work for newcomers, not with winter on the horizon, but perhaps the schoolmistress could use an extra hand."

Lori raised her eyebrows—she hadn't expected to happen on a teaching job. "That would be perfect. Who should I ask about that?"

"The school is near the top of the hill. Ask for Miss Anna Wintermoss."

"All right. Thanks."

"And, uh, apologies again for the blunder."

"It's fine. Have a nice day." Lori shot him a tight smile and walked out. She wasn't sure what she'd done to give off that impression in the first place. Maybe it was the fact that she was a woman traveling alone, though she wasn't sure having Aragorn with her would have done her any favors either.

She stepped into the alley next to the inn, which led to a small, muddy courtyard with a stable at one end. She retrieved her horse with a small wave to the boy from before, wishing she had a little money to tip him or something. For the first time since arriving in this world, she was acutely aware of the lack of money in her pocket.

Lori stifled a yawn as she led her horse up one of the roads to the top of the hill. Maybe she should have asked the innkeeper if his place served coffee or something. She just hoped she would be awake enough to speak in coherent sentences when she met the schoolmistress.

As she ascended, the buildings became smaller, some of the doors reaching just past her shoulder in height. There were a few hobbits sweeping their doorsteps or puffing on pipes. A handful glanced at her curiously, but no one spoke to her. Lori hid a smile as she passed through the street. The hobbits, with their miniature houses and fences, were kind of cute.

The buildings fell away for a stretch, revealing the green hillside scattered with rocks and coarse grass. A small stream cut across the expanse. A pair of younger girls walked hand in hand, each carrying a pail. Lori paused to refill her waterskin and let her horse have a drink. She slipped off her gloves and splashed some water on her face, letting out a small gasp at the cold. That would have to be enough to wake her up for now. She wiped some droplets from her chin and stood up.

A scream pierced the air, one sharp, high note that jolted straight down her spine. Lori stiffened and spun towards the source of the noise.

One of the girls was kneeling a little ways upstream, bent over something on the bank. Lori gathered her skirt in her hands and ran to her. The other girl was lying half-submerged in the water, her clothes rapidly darkening as the current soaked them. Her face was pale and still, even as the other girl sobbed and shook her shoulders.

"What happened?" Lori asked, her heart thundering in her chest.

"She fell," the girl said, her voice trembling. She couldn't be older than twelve, and her face was streaked with panicked tears. "She gets these spells sometimes, and she fell into the stream and didn't get up." She shook the unconscious girl's shoulders. "Hazel, wake up! Please!"

"Did she hit her head?" Lori knelt and examined Hazel's hairline, but she couldn't see any blood or bruising.

"I don't know." The girl sniffled, the sound wet and desperate.

"Okay. Let's get her out of the water." Lori's hands were shaking as she reached into the stream to grab Hazel's legs, but she forced herself to focus. An unexpected sense of protectiveness steadied her. She had to help these girls, and she couldn't do that if she started panicking.

They pulled Hazel onto the grass, and Lori bent to put her ear next to the girl's mouth and nose. She held her breath for several pained seconds, but she couldn't feel any air against her skin.

Fuck. She sat up and looked around. If anyone else had heard the scream, they hadn't bothered to come see what had happened.

"Um." Lori clenched her fists hard to stop their shaking and pressed a couple of fingers to Hazel's neck. Please please please. She pushed her fingertips against her chilled skin and was rewarded with a weak, pattering pulse.

Okay. Her heart is still beating, but she's not breathing. Lori glanced around again. How long could a person go without oxygen?

She doesn't have that long. I have to try and help her.

Lori looked up at the other girl, who had her arms wrapped around herself and was staring at Hazel with a look of hollow misery. "Hey. Listen to me. I need you to go get help. Can you do that?"

The girl's gaze snapped up to meet hers, and she gave a jerky nod. She pushed herself up and sprinted away, nearly slipping on the wet grass.

"Okay." Lori looked down at the still body next to her, absently flexing her fingers. She'd done CPR before, but only on a dummy. Weren't there specific things she had to check beforehand? Something about ABCs…

Fuck it. There was no time to think about the details. She laced her fingers together, locked her elbows, and started chest compressions. The rest of her thoughts faded from the foreground, eclipsed by her mental count to thirty. She listened again for breathing. Nothing. She pinched Hazel's nose, tilted her chin back, and blew two breaths through her mouth.

She fell into the rhythm of a second set of compressions. Even when she heard footsteps behind her, she clung to her count like they were rungs on a ladder above a long drop. She felt something crack beneath the heel of her hand, and forced herself to keep going.

Two more breaths. Come on, Lori pleaded silently in the precious seconds before she had to start counting again. Please be okay.

It wasn't until Hazel let out a wheezing cough that Lori finally stopped. The girl drew in a breath and let out a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a sob, her eyelids fluttering open. Lori put a bracing hand on her shoulder as she tried to sit up.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Just breathe."

"Hazel!" A woman appeared, dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms around the girl, who began to cry weakly.

It was then that Lori realized a small crowd had formed around them, more than half a dozen people staring down at the scene with varied expressions of awe and worry. Her skin prickled self-consciously and she made to stand up, but the woman took her wrist in a tight grip.

"You saved my daughter," she said, her eyes rounded with the possibility of what might have happened. "Thank you."

"I'm just glad she's okay," Lori said, her voice sounding faint to her own ears. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade, the realization of what had happened came hurtling towards her. She'd almost had someone die in front of her.

"How'd you do it?" one of the men in the crowd asked. "You breathed life back into her."

"I just…" She rubbed her wrist where the woman had gripped it. How was she supposed to explain CPR to these people? She didn't even know what CPR stood for. "It's a technique I learned back home."

A few people muttered at that. The woman only kept her eyes fixed on Lori, one hand stroking through her daughter's hair.

"I do not have much spare coin, but if there is anything—"

"No. No." Lori shook her head. She half-wished all these people would leave. "I'm just glad I was there, um, at the right time. You don't owe me anything. Please."

One end of the crowd parted swiftly, and Aragorn appeared in the gap. Several people shot him nervous looks, but he paid them no attention.

"Are you all right?" he asked Lori.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She stood up, grateful for a familiar face and an excuse to leave. She turned to Hazel and her mother. "I have to go. Um, just have her rest for a few days before she starts walking around again."

The woman nodded, and Lori gathered her skirt and followed Aragorn down the hill to where their horses were grazing, trying not to hunch her shoulders at the eyes of the onlookers behind her.

Aragorn paused with one hand on the reins of his horse. "How do you feel about an ale at the Prancing Pony?"

She let out a gusting sigh and nodded, ignoring the fact that it probably wasn't yet nine in the morning. "I'd really like that."

A few sips of ale coaxed the chill from her skin and settled most of her nerves. Lori set the mug on the table and leaned back against her seat. Aragorn had found them a spot near the back of the inn and taken the seat against the wall. Lori was glad she didn't have to be facing the rest of the patrons—she still felt a little like curling into a ball after the morning's events.

"I have seen the technique you used before, but only from elven healers," Aragorn said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

She blinked. "How much did you see?"

"I arrived in the midst of it, when I saw a crowd forming. I thought to intervene, but you seemed to have the situation well in hand."

A smile twitched on her face at the praise. "Well, I did this thing called CPR, and it's taught to pretty much anyone who wants to learn it." Lori reached for her mug again. "I took a class because I thought it would help my chances of getting hired as a babysitter—someone who watches a person's children while they're busy." She took a sip of ale. "I just never thought I'd actually have to use it."

"You saved that girl's life." Aragorn paused in lighting his pipe and met her gaze. "Yet I sense that something troubles you."

"I guess it just makes me anxious." She rubbed her forearm. It was warm inside the inn, but goosebumps prickled her skin. "She could have died. And just like that, I was the one who had to try and help her."

"And you did," Aragorn said gently. "I have seen men face death, either their own or that of their comrades, and lose all courage and sense. You acted swiftly and did what needed to be done."

Lori nodded and tried to relax. It was over, now. No one was in danger anymore. And she'd done the right thing.

"I still don't know how I even…" She took a sip of ale and rested her elbows on the table. "I feel like I should have panicked, but there was another girl there, and I was trying to stay calm for her. And then when I started doing CPR, I felt this intense focus. I knew I wouldn't stop until that girl was okay. I couldn't. I didn't let it cross my mind that she might have…not made it."

Aragorn took a draw from his pipe, looking pensive. After a long moment, he asked, "Do you have any interest in becoming a healer?"

Lori blinked. "I don't know much about it, beyond what I just did."

"But you could learn."

"I could." She raised her mug to her lips and thought about it. There would be more to study, and she could help people. A thought occurred to her, and she chuckled to herself.

"What is it?"

"Well, when I was younger, my parents spent a couple of years trying to get me to go to medical school." Her smile turned bittersweet. "I guess I could still follow their advice."

"I think they would be proud of what you've become."

She blinked away the tears that suddenly pricked her eyes. She didn't think she'd really become anything here—in a lot of ways she still felt like a child—but this was a start. And the matter-of-fact way Aragorn spoke warmed her heart.

"I suppose I should find someone to study under, learn by experience," she said with a small shrug, glancing at him for confirmation.

"I know a woman who could take you on as an apprentice. She is well-known to the Rangers."

"Okay." Her gaze fell to the table, something like guilt blending with the ale in her stomach. Aragorn had already done so much for her, and it all felt like it was building up to a debt she'd never be able to repay. There was nothing she could offer at the moment.

Aragorn caught her eye, a small crease in his brow. He'd seen the look on her face.

If she told him what was bothering her, he'd give his usual line that she didn't owe him anything. She wasn't sure she deserved to have someone as selfless as him guiding her through life.

"I'm pretty tired after last night," she said. "But I guess we should probably get moving soon."

He nodded. "We'll stop to rest before the sun sets. But the sooner we're back on the road, the better." He cleaned out his pipe and stowed it away. "We'll head east." He paused. "Through the marshes again."

"Oh, good. Looking forward to it."

The two of them shared a smile, and Lori reached forward to drain the rest of her ale.

I thought about having Lori be a teacher for a little, but the plot needs to move forward, and there's some stuff later down the line that I want to get to without spending too much time in Bree.

Also, a couple sidenotes because I always want to be accurate with medical stuff: it's normal to break ribs during CPR. Most people would rather that than be dead. And CPR was developed within the last century, I believe, so I feel like the humans of Middle-earth wouldn't know about it, but elves might.

I'm currently working on getting ready to move, so chapters might be sparse for a little. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time, it means a lot to me!