A harvest moon shone down on the landscape like a beacon. Amidst the dense blackness of the trees on either side, the road cut through the night, outlining a group of singularly ugly shapes pulling a cart down the road. The cart was very old and creaked loudly. It looked like it had once been drawn by horses and used to stack firewood or crops. A fabric tarp was draped over it, obscuring its contents.

The goblins, for they were goblins pulling the cart, were arguing amongst each other in the way that goblins do: all at once. This, combined with the brusque pace their clubbed, hairy feet were setting made their breath steam in the cold air.

"Mizz Bones won't be happy when she finds out we're not coming back wiv da haul."

"Yeah, but by den she'll be too far away to do anyfink about it, won't she?"

"But we wez getting on nice with her, wasn't we? Mizz Bones was the right sort, she puts food in our bellies."

"Iffen you think that 'orrible porridge to be food, yer welcome to turn back. I wants meat! Fresh meat!"

Underneath a tarp in the cart, two figures clutched held each other close. One of them was crying. Noah was five years younger than his sister Maize, but he was the gentlemen in the situation and thus had to keep up appearances, even if said situation was grim, which it was. They had been only a few paces beyond the bounds of the village, splitting firewood in a small grotto. He'd heard his sister scream, and turned around to find two goblins snatching at her arms. Before he'd had time to do more than raise his axe and shout, he had been hit by something blunt and hard right between the shoulder blades and his body had crumpled like a marionette cut free from its strings. They had both been placed in the cart and the rest of the time since then had been spent in terror and shame, feeling the bumps as the wheels went over them and wondering where it was that they would stop turning.

Just as he was considering their options for escape for the millionth time, several things happened in quick succession.

There was a hiss and a thunk, and the cart ground to a halt. The goblins had time for a few bellowed curses before something fell upon them. The fight lasted less than a minute, but both of them would remember that sound for the rest of their lives: the unmistakable sound of steel against flesh.

When the commotion had died down, there was a deep, penetrating silence, broken only by the sound of footfalls. The tarp was pulled back, and Noah prepared himself to die. Instead of the ugly face of an orc, however, a pair of deep gray eyes fixed him, and suddenly he knew that he wouldn't need to fight.

The figure was tall and imposing, but not in a bad way. She smiled, and held out a pale hand. The other hand, he noticed, was clutched around the pommel of a sword.

"It is safe now. You may come out."

Maize stopped crying and accepted the proffered hand, allowing herself to be helped out of the bed of the cart. Noah followed, not taking his eyes off of the woman.

"Are you an angel?" He asked, reverently.

For some reason this made the woman laugh.

"Absolutely not." came another voice, and Noah looked over to see that the woman had a companion.

He was a young man, not much older than the farmhands his uncle served at the bar. His hair was dark and untamed, and the front of his tunic was thickly stained with orc blood.

"Don't mind him, young one. How old are you? What are your names?" she said, and something about that voice made him believe that he could trust her.

"I'm Noah." Noah said. "Noah Butterbur. This is my sister Maize. I'm twelve, and she's five years older."

Gravel crunched underfoot as the young man began dragging the bodies out of the road and lined them up neatly in the ditch. A horse was poking its head out of the treeline. At first it had looked like a branch, as it was rather skinny and black as pitch.

"Look at that, Smoke." The young man said, his tone whimsical. "The finest the black land has to offer. This one even has a gold tooth. I didn't know orcs had dentists."

He bent down, prying open the jaw of one of the goblins with a knife.

"How did they get you Noah?" the woman said, trying to distract him from the macabre sight.

Noah wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He felt the events of the past day weighing on him, and he very much wanted to cry, but he didn't, seeing as he was still the gentlemen in the situation, and his father had always told him that gentlemen don't cry, especially not when a lady is present.

"I was chopping wood with my sister and they snuck up on us. I tried to beat them off, but I wasn't strong enough."

His restraint finally gave way and he began crying. Big, fat tears rolled down his face. It was Maize's turn to put an arm around him.

"Shh, it's alright. Dad would have been proud of you."

A cloud passed in front of them moon, and it began to drizzle. Elden wrenched the molar free at last and slipped it into a pouch at his waist.

"We should wait here until morning. There's no telling how many more are out there."

Nellas helped him remove the tarp from the cart and set it up underneath a tree by the roadside opposite of where the corpses lay. As she did so, her hood slipped off.

"You're not an angel... you're an elf!"

Nellas turned to see Maize and Noah staring at her in wonderment. She felt a little odd, being looked at as though she were a rare creature at the zoo.

"My name is Nellas, and this is Elden." Nellas said.

"Wait, did you say your last name was... Butterbur?" Elden said.

"Yes. Barliman takes care of us now." the little boy said.

"That's a powerful coincidence. My father took me to Bree often, he was good friends with Mr. Butterbur. We used to stay at the Prancing Pony at the end of every harvest season."

"Can we please go back now?" Maize said, looking around anxiously.

"Not tonight I'm afraid. It's too dark, and from the looks of things it's about to start raining much harder."

"You two can take my bedroll," Nellas said. "I will keep watch until dawn."

"Are you sure?" Elden said, even as the size of the raindrops increased dramatically.

"Yes. Get some rest. I'll wake you when its time to head out."

He didn't need telling twice. The two children bedded down underneath the tarp, Elden spreading out his cloak on the roots and taking the far corner. It looked pretty uncomfortable, but he was soon fast asleep.

Nellas stood their in the dark, feeling the rain drip down her ears and the flat of her blade, watching the three humans slumber. Maize and Noah were curled up together like two rats from the same litter. It was a touching sight, but somehow she felt she was apart from it, as alien to them as the moving statues had been to Elden.

"Angel..." she murmured quietly, to herself.

The morning was cold and wet for all of them, and nobody spoke much. Elden cooked up his last remaining rabbit and gave the resulting soup to the children, who thanked him and put it away with gusto. The bodies were still lying in the ditch on the other side of the road, six of them, some lying face up and others face down like gruesome dominoes. He had considered dragging them farther off the path, but decided that they might save some lives if he left them as a warning to travelers.

A decision was made to take the cart with them, so as to avoid having to double up and tire out the horses. Surprisingly, Aini was much more amenable to this than Smoke, who Elden suspected had been a stud and not much else before being rescued from his life of inanity. With some convincing, however, they got him yoked up, and they were off. Everyone was exhausted, and so a large part of the journey was passed in silence. Weathertop got larger and larger until they passed it on their right around noon.

From there the road wound gently through the swamps of Midgewater and cut through the trees, until at last they rounded a bend around late afternoon and Bree came into sight. It hat grown a great deal since the end of the war, being at the crossroads of several trade routes that only got bigger once the shadow of Sauron was banished. The streets were better paved and there were several more lanes of houses. There was a large grain storehouse on the low hill overlooking the village, and a mill turned beside it. Another one was going up close by, the workers taking their lunch break in the scaffolds, hairy feet dangling over the edge as they laughed, ate and puffed away on corncob pipes.

Bree might have gotten a bit bigger, but it still had that same sleepy personality that Elden remembered. The Prancing Pony hadn't changed a bit either, even the paint on the sign was the same. The front gate was left wide open for them, and they unhitched the cart outside and left their horses with the groomsman. Noah and Maize raced inside, being unable to contain themselves any longer. Elden and Nellas exchanged a glance before following. She hadn't attracted any undue attention so far, but in Elden's experience there were always eyes watching, and just because they were the twinkling eyes of a farmer sitting on his stoop did not mean the information wouldn't find itself being repeated.

The bar was less than half-full, a collection of regulars and people who couldn't find work or simply didn't wish to. He thought he recognized some of the same faces that he had when he accompanied his father. Barliman Butterbur had been standing behind the counter looking rather haggard, but his expression changed instantly once he caught sight of the children. They rushed to him and embraced in a titanic hug that nearly bowled the poor innkeeper over entirely.

"Noah! Maize!"

Several tears rolled down his ruddy cheeks. His expression of joyous relief soon turned to wonderment.

"But how... We found the tracks..."

"Those people helped us, uncle." Maize said. "Elden and Nellas. They killed the orcs and saved us from being eaten!"

Barliman looked up at them at last, his gaze wide-eyed.

"Well... I don't rightly know what to say. Thank you! You're welcome to a room for as long as you're staying."

"That is very kind of you," Nellas said, "but we are only here to pick up supplies."

At this Elden jumped in, because he had never been one to turn down hospitality.

"Well hold on just a moment, I reckon we'll be staying at least tonight. I'd like to sleep in a warm bed and drink some of Butterbur's famous ale!"

"You know I could swear I know you from somewhere, lad..." Barliman said, his brow creasing.

"My father used to stay here for a week every fall."

"What was his name?"

"Ceorl. Son of Aldor."

The innkeeper slapped a hand against his forehead, leaving a shining imprint behind.

"Ah! Yes, I do remember you! Barely old enough to see over the counter as I recall, and I don't often recall as anyone around here will tell you." He said, tapping his temple with a knowing grin. "Absolutely terrible memory. Maize, go make up a room for these fine people. Noah, fetch some mugs if you would. Please, please, have a seat."

They sat down at the high stools by the bar. Barliman was a veritable fountain of information and did most of the talking, with Elden breaking in with a comment here and there, when it was possible. The young boy was back almost instantaneously with two mugs of cider. He handed one directly to Nellas, beaming it her with his snaggletooth smile that she couldn't help but return.

"Thank you Noah, you can go and play now." Barliman said, taking an opportunity to tousle the boy's hair before he raced off. "Delightful souls, aren't they?"

"They are indeed." Elden said, taking a swig.

"It was a damn shame what happened to my brother and his wife. They were in the prime of their life too. I never expected I would have to be a father as well as an innkeeper."

"Life has a funny way tossing you things you don't expect."

"Don't it just?"

Elden took a large gulp. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nellas do the same and nearly choke. It was all he could do to keep from bursting out laughing.

"It's a rare compliment to have an elf take notice of my brew." Barliman said, chuckling.

"Keep your voice down." Elden growled, the mirth suddenly gone from his voice.

His sword was slung upside down on his back, the handle peeking out from underneath the bottom right corner of his rucksack. His hand reached instinctively down to his waist.

"No harm done, young master. The fact that you are in company of an elf will soon have slipped my mind, believe me."

"I hope so." Elden replied, glancing back over at the occupied tables. Nobody was watching them, but there was still the chance that they had overheard.

"My apologies Elden, but if you'd intended to bring... Nellas, was it? If you'd intended to bring Nellas into Bree without drawing attention to the fact that she was an elf, you might have wanted to dress her in some more lady-like clothing."

"What ever do you mean?" Nellas inquired, looking down at the breaches she was wearing underneath the folds of the large traveling cloak.

"I only mean that it's not often you see a lady in pantaloons, beggin' your pardon ma'am. As long as you're staying in my care, I wont hear a single scallywag bother you over it, but you are going to get a few... ungentlemanly looks. Not everyone I serve here has a full mastery of manners."

"I am quite capable of surviving ungentlemanly looks, thank you."

After that little speed-bump the conversation was much more amiable, but still very one sided. Elden drifted away with his mug, joining a craps game at one of the regular's tables and loosing a bit of money to ingratiate himself. Nellas continued to listen to Butterbur prattle on about this and that. She listened intently and nodded at all the right parts. She didn't find it at all tiresome. It was nice to meet someone who seemed to want to tell you as much of what was going on in the world as possible, it was such a drastic change from elven society, where you were only told something if you were meant to know.

"I keep hearing wild tales of rings and battles, don't rightly know what to believe, but bless my beer, one thing I do know is that the King of Gondor used to drink in this very pub!"

This genuinely peaked her interest, and it must have showed because Barliman nodded solemnly, as though trying to show the truth of the tale through the gravity of it's delivery.

"Yes, it's true! I knew him by "Strider" then of course, but later he turned out to be some bloke name Aragorn who turned out to be some bloke named Ellesar who was also a long lost heir... or something. It's all very complex. Good fellow, always liked him, always paid his tab." Barliman said, as though this last bit was the most important part.

"What about the Shire?" Nellas asked.

She had heard a great deal about the place, especially in recent years. The fact that it had been a hobbit who had at last succeeded in destroying the great shadow where so many others had failed intrigued her to no end. She had seen several halflings wandering around, and she had been rather hoping to pay the Shire a visit while they were out this way.

"The Shire's been having nothing but good luck these past few years under Mayor Gamgee, excluding the present trouble with orcs, of course, one great planting season after another."

"Trouble with orcs?"

"Orcs, aye, and more than orcs: strangers, foreigners, people from far-off parts. The end of the war seems to have shaken the glass and set them all adrift, so to speak. There's all manner of… unusual folk passing through who don't say much about who they are, where they've been or where they're going, yourself included ma'am, if you don't mind me noticing." Butterburr said, absentmindedly cleaning the inside of the mug with a filthy dishrag. "No, the Rangers of the North patrol the borders of the Shire more heavily now, at the request of Mr. Gamgee and Stri- I mean King Ellesar, excuse me. Anyone who isn't a halfling will certainly be stopped, and even if you sneak in, folks in the Shire are an observant lot. I doubt you'll be allowed in without a thorough accounting of yourself and your intentions, if at all, so if you're wanting to avoid that, avoid the Shire."

"What about the orcs, though?" Nellas pressed. "I thought they fled when Sauron was destroyed?"

Barliman shrugged.

"I guess these lot didn't get the message. The hills are infested with them, and it's only gotten worse in the past few months. I lock my doors at night now. There's rumors that humans are helping them, and something about a "Miss Bones". I don't know how much is bona fide and how much is just talk, mind you. An innkeeper has to take what he hears with a grain of salt."

There was a collective groan from the table behind, and Nellas turned to see Elden sweeping up a not-inconsiderable pile of coin.

"Luck of the draw, gentlemen! Don't worry, I'll give you all a chance to win it back... after I go make some purchases."

Elden stood and left the bar, presumably off to go get supplies.

"I think I will go see about the room." Nellas said, politely. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Barliman smiled and raised a mug in a strange sort cross between a toast and a salute. She walked down the dusty hall to the only open door. The furnishings were spartan to say the least. One bed, a small carpet, a dresser stained with the imprint of many mugs and a set of curtains that framed a rather grimy window. It was through this window that Maize was staring, watching Elden's back grow smaller and smaller as he walked to the marketplace. The expression on her face was rather besotted.

"Thank you, Maize, for tidying up."

"Hmm?"

The girl turned.

"Oh, of course. I should be thanking you really. I thought I was going to die in that cart, or somewhere near it."

Like a magnet, her eyes seemed to be drawn back to the window, through which Nellas could see Elden standing in the street, talking to someone.

"He's a dodger, and no mistake." She said, simpering.

"What is a dodger?" Nellas asked, perplexed.

"You know... a dodger, a geezer, a good old boy." She said, clearly amused by the fact that this world wise elf was being confounded by a child. "He sleeps under the stars, answers to no one, and takes liberties with any daughter he lays eyes on. I know the type, they come around here occasionally, always in a hurry to outpace the spread of their reputation, wherever that leads them."

"I don't know about all that. He is certainly is... resourceful." Nellas said, watching him stride away brusquely, out the gate and into the village beyond.

"And handsome." The niece added, dreamily.

The elf thought she had a point, but she didn't say so out loud. She staid up late into the night reading and had just turned out the light when Elden returned, rascally drunk. He took his place on the carpet without argument and fell asleep quicker than she did, the purchased supplies piled neatly by the door.