It was not an extremely difficult journey to go on, considering that we did not run into a single person. Very few words were exchanged between Aragorn and I on this small adventure. After getting to Bree, we settled down in the Inn of the Prancing Pony and waited.
The Hobbit's turned up two days later then we had expected them and they seemed more tired then ever. First they talked for a few minutes with the innkeeper. They did come in, however, and and quickly started a ruckus. I want to walk over to my old friends and give them a hug but Aragorn will not allow me. Frodo and Sam are sitting, very nervously, a few tables in front of where Aragorn and I are sitting. Pippin and Merry sit down with large mugs of beer, blocking my view of Frodo. I can hear them talking.
"Wha's that," Pippin asks Merry in his adorable accent that I absolutely fell for when I was helping to raise him. Pippin seems in shock by the size of Merry's pint of beer.
"This, my friend," Merry states excitedly, "is a pint."
"It comes in pints?" Pippin asks. "I'm getting one."
"You got a whole half already," Sam calls after Pippin. I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing.
"Oh boy," I giggle into Aragorn's ear, "that's why I love that Hobbit!" I see Sam look over at Aragorn and I, we stop talking and laughing and I go back to taking sips of my beer that sits in front of me. Frodo stops the bartender and seems to be inquiring about us. I see him mouth our names. 'Strider. Hydor?' Hydor is my code name, at least around these parts. I have many names, but I only like to go by Azov, the name I've had since birth.
Frodo seems to be falling asleep, passing out right on the spot. Pippin then starts telling people about Frodo, and Frodo looks genuinely scared. Frodo is running through the crowds of people, leaving a confused Sam and merry sitting at the table.
"I do hope that they don't do anything too stupid," I lean over and whisper in Aragorn's ear. He is smoking a pipe and watching the obnoxious Hobbit's almost anxiously.
"They are Hobbits, my dear Azov," Aragorn whispers back, smiling, "do they do nothing that is not even the least bit stupid?" I laugh quietly and go back to staring, with my hood covering my face entirely. If it were not that my hood was partially see-through from the inside, I would not be able to see them at all.
"Yes," I smile and whisper into Aragorn's ear, "I guess that could be made the truth." He smiles and I see his chest rise and lower with laughter before quickly stopping. He gasps and my head whips over to where Frodo is. Frodo trips. Aragorn and I both start when we see the Ring fly up into the air, and then it somehow lands on Frodo's finger. One second, Frodo is there, the next, he's disappeared. Aragorn and I both stand up quickly and we walk over to where Frodo used to be. I wince and let out a small scream, which is quickly covered by my hand. One of my episodes is happening.
I sprint up the stairs to the room which Aragorn and I have acquired. I close the door quickly before falling to the ground. I crawl into a corner and shove a pillow onto my mouth. I scream. I can see the eye. The eye of Sauron. It has haunted me for forever. My nails dig into the pillows and my back twists painfully. I scream again. My hood and cloak is ripped off by my hands, even though I barely know that I am doing it. My wings spread and I lift off the ground, only to fall quickly back down again. Sauron's voice is inside my head, but he is not speaking to me directly, but to someone else. Someone I can see vividly, who is sharing this horror with me, Frodo.
"You cannot hide," Sauron says to him. I claw my nails into something soft, feeling the blood trickle down my arms. Sauron speaks again, "I see you." Frodo is backing away from the eye, his face etched with fear. I scream for him, to help him, to save him. I try to move but I can't. My body is chained. It is chained to nothingness but I can still not move. "There is no life... in the void. Only... death." Something happens. Frodo is gone. The eye turns to me. "You are death. I welcome death to be a long lost friend. You will come to me in the end." I am gone, out of the vision. The terror is gone. I am alright. I look around. There is a ruined pillow, bloody floorboards, and a few scratches on the wall but other then that, the room is untouched. I look to my arms. There are four cuts where my nails had dug into the flesh. Blood is flowing from the cuts so I grab washcloths from the dresser in the room and I put them carefully on my self-inflicted wounds.
Quickly after, Aragorn comes into the room, gruffly pushing Frodo onto the floor. I try to start forward to help Frodo up but I am too weak. Aragorn's eyes flash quickly over to me and then back to Frodo. I am not surprised. I probably look like a mess, blood all over me, my wings showing... and my face. I am exposing myself but I don't care, Frodo grew up with me and soon, he will come to recognize me.
"What do you want," Frodo asks, sounding both scared and angry. He hasn't noticed me yet.
"More caution from you," Aragorn sighs, "that is no trinket you carry."
"I carry nothing," Frodo says.
"Indeed," Aragorn growls. He walks over to the window to put out the candles. Frodo's eyes follow Aragorn but they land on me. He stares first at me, then at my wings. I can see realization dawning in his beautiful blue eyes. Aragorn carries out talking, "I can avoid being seen if I wish... even my friend with her wings can avoid it if she has to... but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift."
"Who are you," Frodo asks, "and why is Azov with you?" My eyes grow wide and I wish to run over and give him a hug but I cannot, for my strength is only slowly returning.
"Are you frightened," Aragorn asks.
"Yes," Frodo states. I cock my head to the side in sympathy for the Hobbit that I have come to love.
"Not nearly frightened enough," Aragorn says, "we know what hunts you." Aragorn looks quickly over to me again and then back to Frodo, walking closer to him. The door opens quickly and Aragorn draws his sword. I reach for a throwing knife but wince in doing so, I sit back to where I was before. Sam, Pippin, and Merry barge into the room. Merry is carrying a candlestick, with the candles still burning in it and Pippin is carrying a barstool, which he seems to be struggling with while carrying it.
"Let him go," Sam shouts, putting up his fists, "or I'll have you, Longshanks!" Aragorn sighs, putting his sword back into it's place. I give a light cough to hide my laughter.
"You have a stout heart, little Hobbit," Aragorn states. Pippin, Merry, and Sam all look around for the person who coughed. They all look at me. Pippin almost immediately runs and jumps over onto me, where I let out a groan of pain before hugging him, then the rest follow promptly and before I know it, three Hobbits are encasing me with hugs. Aragorn tries to settle everything down. "But that will not save you." Aragorn turns back to Frodo. Pippin showers me with little Hobbit kisses, where I giggle and laugh. "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. They're coming." All of the Hobbit's stop fawning over me and they suddenly become serious at this statement.
"Miss A," Sam says sweetly. That was his nickname for me and his only. He is looking at my arms. "Oh, Miss A! You're hurt!"
"It's nothing I cannot fix, my little Samwise." I smile and nod for him to pay attention to Aragorn, but he takes the bloody rags away from my hands and tends to my wounds. I sigh gratefully.
"Come," Aragorn states. He had just made the beds to look like people were sleeping in them. He rushed us out of the room, "we must hide you." The Hobbit's follow Aragorn. Aragorn has an arm wrapped around my waist to keep me standing. We finally come to a room that is across from where the Prancing Pony is. Aragorn sits me down on the chair while all the Hobbit's decide to go to sleep all in the same bed. Aragorn's eyes are soft as he brushes my wounds with his hands. I can hear cloth tear and Aragorn tightly wraps the bandages around the cuts along my arms.
I gasp in pain, not from the bandages, but from a feeling of the Rider's coming. Aragorn grabs my shoulders and kisses me on the forehead. He is like a brother to me. Gandalf and him have always taken care of me.
The Hobbits are sleeping. I sigh and look at them. They have grown so much. They look peaceful as they sleep, almost as if nothing can hurt them. I tilt my head to one side and look around. Aragorn is restless- still- but restless. Everyone has a right to be nervous and at first, I cannot understand why the Hobbits are sleeping at time like this. They are Hobbits, I laugh to myself. Hobbits, the most durable creatures that I've ever seen, even compared to Dwarves. The Hobbit's can last through just about anything and still keep a merry attitude.
Frodo awakes and quickly sits up, crawling to the side of the bed and leaning off it. Sam wakes with a start. Then the rest of them quickly wake. I understand why. I can hear the sounds of swords stabbing something in the room across the street. The horses that they ride are startled and whinnying. Jumping around and neighing. Aragorn is sitting on the windowsill, watching the ordeal through the window. I can hear the angry screeches of the Riders.
"What are they," Frodo asks. Aragorn turns his head towards Frodo.
"They were once Men," I sigh, "Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine 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. Neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you." The Hobbit's shiver and then lay back down. "Do not worry, my lovely little Hobbits, we are safe for tonight."
"Yes," Aragorn says, "but tomorrow, we shall leave for Rivendell." We all slowly, one by one, drift to sleep.