Hello, readers! I'm sorry it's been too long since my last post. My dissertation has been occupying a lot of time right now, and it's hard to want to write more, even when it's fun! Thank you again to all who have subscribed to this story and to all who've left those wonderful reviews. You guys don't know how much those brighten my day.

Rowan suddenly had to think about how to breathe. Putting a hand out to steady herself, she realized that her panic was followed by a small sense of resignation, even relief. She had feared for years that something like this could happen, one day, considering all the travelers that came through the Pony's doors. At least now the time when she would have to leave her tiny world of Bree was certain, although she had hoped that if she did have to flee she would have some kind of a plan. Now all she could do was stare ahead of her, and attempt to construct a plan as she went.

It had been quiet in the kitchen since the Ranger had spoken his name for some time. Strider appeared to be waiting patiently for the young woman he had shocked to speak next. Finally, she moved her steady gaze from the pots on the wall to his face and asked,

"What are you going to do?" If she at least knew his intentions, Rowan considered, she could prepare more easily for the abrupt turn her life would take.

"I am here to warn you."

"Warn me," she dumbly repeated. His voice sounded almost kind, as if he had no choice but to reveal her secret. Maybe he felt that he had none, that she truly was some kind of danger as Morton always predicted. His dark eyebrows lowered in an expression of concern.

"Are you frightened?"

Rowan paused. Is this a threat? Sympathy? She was too exhausted for anything but honesty.

"Yes. I am frightened." For the first time since she had first seen him at the kitchen door, the Ranger, Strider, moved toward her. His steps were cautious, however, watching her carefully to judge whether he should stop.

"You ought to be frightened, but not of me. I have come to tell you that you are threatened by a force that you know not of, but that hunts you even now." He was two feet from her now, and his voice had become quieter as he talked. By the time he stopped walking he was almost speaking in a whisper. Rowan could not take in such an abrupt change in her situation.

"What? You are wrong, no one would be hunting me. You must have mistaken me for someone," she protested, and began to turn around toward the dishes once more, as if she expected the Ranger to shrug and leave the kitchen. She didn't get too far before Strider put his hand gently on her arm to stop her.

"Please, Rowan. Listen to me. My words are true, and you are in grave danger." His words were incredibly urgent, and when she looked at his eyes, she realized they had to be honest. Either she ought to be terrified of this unknown force, or this Ranger was a great master of deception.

"But why? I know nothing, I have never been outside this town, no one knows who I am! Who could possibly want to hurt me?" Despite her efforts to remain calm and suppress the belief in Strider that was increasingly overtaking her reason, her voice betrayed her fear.

"Someone who knows that you possess something very dear and very rare, but which looks ordinary enough." He paused and leaned close to Rowan's face, looking intently into her eyes as though trying to read the answer to his coming question himself. Then he whispered, "Rowan, do you have a gold ring? One that is...special?"

Her face told him the answer before she could speak. "Have you...how do you know that? Have you...spied...on me?"

"No, Rowan. I swear to you, I have never seen you before tonight. I will explain how I knew who you were as soon as I saw you. Now, though, we must depart Bree if we are to escape those who pursue us. Do you trust me?"

Did she? She thought through the two possible versions of the next day. She could put her life in the hands of this stranger who knew too much about her, but who also seemed to know more about Middle-Earth than anyone she had ever met. She could also choose not to believe him, tell him to leave, and wait for a mysterious dark pursuer who would most likely never arrive. That small chance that it might, however, and the torturous prospect of waiting for death made Rowan's decision for her. When she spoke her voice was firm.

"Yes. I trust you, Strider. What must I do?" Even amidst his look of concern, Rowan saw the hint of a smile on the Ranger's face.

"Go to your chamber and collect your things. We may have to travel quite far, so bring only what you can carry, and remember that you may not come back for a long time. And bring the ring. I want to test it, to make certain it is the one they seek."