Authors note: Short chapter, but the next one will more then make up for it.
Disclaimer: I only own the OC
The Prancing Pony
She felt them before she heard them. The impact the hooves made with the ground had vibrated all the way to her. They were close. But when she heard the tell-tale screech she knew they had found the location of the Ring.
She ran back towards Bree, not caring if she was seen or heard. The gates were already knocked down. She was too late, the black riders were here. Horse hoof prints led to the Prancing Pony. Not good.
She kept to the shadows of the buildings, the villagers all asleep so sneaking in was simple.
As she climbed the stairs, she noted the small Hobbit-sized footprints in the dust on the floor led in a different direction of where the metal boots were clattering upstairs. The startles screech of the ring wraiths sounded as she scurried away to hide. They left, outraged. She went upstairs to a feather filled room, and smirked in satisfaction.
They were safe, The Ranger of the North has kept them safe.
Well, she though, might as well spend the night in here. And she threw a blanket over the leaking mattresses, and fell asleep.
Aragorn had them up before the sun even rose. Their unknown companion was up earlier. During the night, after the ring wraiths had left, the towns' folk had left the safety of their homes to check on anyone that could have been hurt. Which meant that she had to get out of there before she was seen.
Consequently, she had about thirty minutes of rest before she was on the road again.
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