I SWEAR THIS STORY ISN'T DEAD!

I am so terribly sorry for not updating this in over a month. But I really wanted to complete two of my other stories, The Avengers of Harmony and Dig Down Deeper, before school started and the homework was dumped on me. Now that they are done, I've finally gotten back to this story.

Okay, so in this chapter we start the Fellowship of the Ring. I decided to blend movie and book verse together for this chapter, and I'll probably be doing that for a good part of the story. Also, like in Tolkien's works, I will be including a lot of songs in this. I will give credit to the song either in this author's note or the one on the bottom. The song in this chapter is The Cat and the Moon from the Lord of the Rings Musical. It was sung during the Bree scene, and I thought it fit well enough.

Anyways, on to the chapter! I don't own anything other than my OCs.

Chapter 17: The Prancing Pony

As like every night, loud, raucous laughter filled the common room of the Inn of the Prancing Pony. Drunkards slammed tankards of ale on the polished oak tables, shouting nonsensical phrases that only those who had a touch too much alcohol could ever hope to understand. And in a darkened corner of the room, two figures sat silent, hoods drawn over their heads.

Hope shifted in her seat, doing her best to stifle a yawn. However, this did not go unnoticed by Aragorn. The elder Ranger smirked at his younger companion as he chewed on his pipe. "Could you not find sleep last night?" he whispered, the hint of a playful smile showing on his lips.

"No," Hope replied with a glare. "I am just tired of sitting here and watching the same room that we have been watching for an entire week." She crossed her arms, letting out an irritated sigh.

"Be patient, Hawkins," Aragorn chided, using his companion's Ranger name. "Frodo will come soon enough."

Hope only grunted in response, resuming her silent observation of the room. Rain pounded fiercely at the windows, the night dark and stormy. The heavy wooden doors of the inn slammed open and closed several times, numerous patrons entering the inn. All were soaked to their skin from the storm outside, looking for a place to warm up and dry off. Lightning flashed in the windowpanes for a split second, and then the booming drum of thunder rumbled from the sky.

Two pairs of gray eyes roamed the common room, eventually landing on a group of four heads of curly hair bobbing through the crowd, much shorter than the average Man. A wary gleam was in the lead hobbit's brilliant blue eyes, and in a town such as Bree, that guarded look was certainly cause for suspicion, especially on a hobbit's face.

"There he is," Hope muttered, her gaze never leaving Frodo and his companions.

Aragorn cocked his head to the side, listening intently as Frodo approached Butterbur. "He is quite wise, giving himself a false name," he remarked after a while. The elder Ranger pursed his lips. "Though Gandalf did not say he would be with company."

Hope waved her hand, dismissing the matter. "His friends are loyal. They would never allow him to embark on such a dangerous journey alone," was all she said, no more, no less. She didn't want to give out any information unless it was absolutely necessary.

Aragorn merely nodded, the barest hint of a smile flitting across his face at Hope's statement. The two Rangers continued to watch Frodo as he hurriedly paid for one hobbit-sized room for him and his companions. Butterbur nodded, leading the company of four through the doorway at the back of the common room which led to the various halls of rooms at the inn. A few minutes later, the four hobbits trooped back into the common room, taking a seat at a table far too big for them and beginning to eat. Through gaps in the crowd, Hope could get a good look at Frodo's four companions. One had strawberry blond hair, slightly bigger than the others. The other two seemed of identical build, one with blond locks and the other with reddish brown.

Snippets of the four hobbits' talk drifted to the Rangers' ears, and soon both had learned each of the hobbits' names. Presently, the hobbit called Sam turned in their direction, noticing the Rangers for the first time. The hobbit gently nudged Frodo, gesturing to Hope and Aragorn. "Those fellows have been doing nothing but stare at you since we arrived," Sam remarked, just loud enough for Hope and Aragorn to hear.

"So it seems that the hobbits are quite watchful," Aragorn murmured.

Hope shook her head. "Only when they are not filled with ale. Frodo should keep Merry and Pippin in check; otherwise, they shall babble to all the townsfolk."

Aragorn was silent, the firelight casting an eerie gleam in his eyes as he watched Frodo ask Butterbur a question. The innkeeper quickly answered, his voice carrying to the corner in which the two Rangers sat. "Those are some of them Ranger folk. A dangerous lot, they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, no one knows, but around here, they're known as Strider and Hawkins." His tone was dark and foreboding, Butterbur glancing briefly in their direction before shaking his head. "I wouldn't associate with them if I were you. Trouble seems to follow them everywhere."

Butterbur was then pulled away by another customer, leaving Frodo to ponder on the innkeeper's words. Sam turned once more to glare at the two Rangers again before he looked back at Frodo. "What do you reckon two fellows like those would want with you?" he asked.

Frodo opened his mouth to answer, but he was cut off as Pippin's ringing laughter reached his (and the Rangers') ears. Hope could clearly see that the young hobbit had drunk too much ale and was happily chatting away with the Bree folk. Currently, he seemed to be reenacting a speech of sorts, and from the distressed look on Frodo's face, Hope could guess whose speech it was. The dark-haired hobbit glanced around desperately, trying to find some way to divert the attention from Pippin. Hope winced, shaking her head; if the young hobbit continued talking, the name of Baggins would surely come up, and perhaps even the Ring!

Not knowing what to do, Frodo foolishly leapt up onto a table, and immediately, all eyes were on him. The room was silent for the briefest of moments, and then someone shouted with a drunken laugh, "A song! Sing us a song, master hobbit!"

For a moment, Frodo just stood gaping as the entire crowd of patrons began demanding a song. And then, recalling an old tavern tune, he began to sing.

"There's an inn of old renown
Where they brew a beer so brown
Moon came rolling down the hill
One Hevnsday night to drink his fill.

On a three-stringed fiddle there
Played the Ostler's cat so fair
The hornèd Cow that night was seen
To dance a jig upon the green.

Called by the fiddle to the
Middle of the muddle where the
Cow with a caper sent the
Small dog squealing.
Moon in a fuddle went to
Huddle by the griddle but he
Slipped in a puddle and the
World went reeling.

Downsides went up - hey!
Outsides went wide.
As the fiddle
Played a twiddle
And the Moon slept till Sterrenday.
Upsides went west - hey!
Broadsides went boom.
With a twiddle on the fiddle
In the middle by the griddle
And the Moon slept till Sterrenday.

Dish from off the dresser pranced,
Found a spoon and gaily danced.
Horses neighed and champed their bits
For the bloodshot Moon had lost his wits.

Well, cow jumped over, Dog barked wild,
Moon lay prone and sweetly smiled.
Ostler cried, "Play faster, Cat!
Because we all want to dance like that."

Gambol and totter 'til you're
Hotter than a hatter and you
Spin all akimbo
Like a windmill flailing.
Whirl with a clatter 'til you
Scatter every cotter and the
Strings start a-pinging as the
World goes sailing.

Downsides go up - hey!
Outsides go wide.
You can clatter
With your platter
But the Moon slept till Sterrenday.
Upsides go west - hey!
Broadsides go boom.
With a batter and a clatter
You can shatter every platter
But the Moon slept till Sterrenday."

As Frodo sang, a grin slowly spread across Hope's face, and she idly began drumming the table to the rhythm of the song. Aragorn raised his eyebrows, noticing the motion. "I see you are familiar with the song," the elder Ranger remarked.

"My mom taught me this song," Hope replied. "It has been in my family for generations. I did not know it originated from here."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Aragorn's lips. "It is quite an old tavern song. I would not be surprised if Eradan chose to pass it down to his children."

Hope chuckled, turning her attention back to the patrons in the inn. All the townsfolk were thoroughly enjoying the song, laughing and dancing as Frodo's voice carried throughout the room. The young Ranger could see that Frodo was looking quite pleased with himself, beginning to caper and dance around on the table for the crowd's amusement.

"Downsides go up - hey!
Outsides go wide.
With a twiddle on the fiddle
In the middle by the griddle
And the Moon slept till Sterrenday.
Upsides go west - hey!
Broadsides go boom.
With a batter and a clatter
You can shatter every platter
But the Moon slept till Sterrenday.

HEY!"

And with a flourish, Frodo leapt into the air, much to the crowd's delight. However, when he landed, he fell on a tray of mugs and slipped, tumbling to the ground. A glint of gold flashed in the air as he fell, and for a moment, Frodo was clearly visible, lying on his back on the floor, one hand outstretched.

And then he vanished.

The patrons stared shocked at the now seemingly empty square of space, muttering amongst one another about what just happened. Aragorn and Hope immediately sprang from their seats, gazing intensely at the spot where Frodo had been. The two Rangers glanced at each other, their silver eyes silently communicating a single word: Go.

Swiftly, the pair pushed through the crowd rushing to the spot where Frodo had disappeared. Before their eyes, the hobbit materialized, panting heavily as one would after experiencing an awful fright. Aragorn quickly seized Frodo's hood, yanking him to his hairy feet.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. Underhill!" the elder Ranger hissed, pushing Frodo roughly out of the common room and up the stairs to the second level of the inn. Hope paused at the base of the stairs, scanning the room for Sam, Merry, and Pippin, before following Aragorn up to their room.

Aragorn threw open the door and shoved Frodo into the room. Hope rapidly paced about the room, quickly extinguishing the flickering candles scattered across the mantle, windowsill, and table. Frodo glanced around the room, fright and panic evident in his wide blue eyes. "What is it you want?" he asked shakily.

"A little more caution from you, Mr. Underhill. Or should I say Baggins," Hope smirked at the stricken expression that crossed the hobbit's face. "That is no trinket you carry."

Frodo shook his head. "I carry nothing!"

"Indeed," Aragorn stated, striding towards window. "We can avoid being seen if we wish, but to disappear entirely-" He ripped off his hood, revealing his shaggy dark head of hair and weather-beaten face. "That is a rare gift."

"We know of the darkness that hunts you, Frodo," Hope growled, walking to the elder Ranger's side. "And your little prank-"

"It was sheer accident!" Frodo protested.

"Accident or not, it has alerted them to your presence here," Hope continued darkly. She pulled down her hood, the glow of the embers flickering across her worn face, a tattered braid hanging limply on her neck. Gray eyes roved over the hobbit, watching his every move and expression. "Are you frightened?"

Frodo backed against the wall. "Yes," he answered truthfully.

Aragorn shook his head. "Not nearly frightened enough."

Suddenly, the door banged open. On instinct, Strider and Hawkins whirled around, drawing their swords as three hobbits flew inside the room, each wielding makeshift weapons, or the Sam's case, his fists. "Let him go!" Sam shouted. "Or I'll have you, Rangers!"

Strider chuckled softly, sheathing his sword. "You have a stout heart, young hobbit, but that will not save you." He shook his head, his face grim. "You can no longer wait for the wizard."

"Strider," Hawkins called, stepping towards him and sheathing her sword. "We best hurry. They are coming."

So I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please Review!