Do as the Middle-Earthlings Do

by It's-Kraggie

When in Middle Earth, do as the Middle-Earthlings do: Sakura finds herself in the midst of Middle Earth, immersed in a war she has no part in, saving a world and people she doesn't know, and why? Because Naruto would be disappointed in her if she ever got back and told him she hadn't...

4. Chapter Three

When In Middle Earth: The edited, revised and face-lifted edition:

When in Middle Earth, do as the Middle-Earthlings do. Sakura finds herself in the midst of Middle Earth, immersed in a war she has no part in, saving a world and people she doesn't know, and why? Because Naruto would be disappointed in her if she ever got back and told him she hadn't...

Chapter Three:

In which Sakura makes herself useful, and Hobbits learn the benefit of discretion

Disclaimer:

The Lord of The Rings, it's associated characters and components are copyright and property of its author J. R. R. Tolkien, the actors that played them, and the director of the trilogy of films of the same name, Peter Jackson. The character Sakura and any components associated with the manga and anime 'Naruto' are property and copyright of Masashi Kishimoto

The story continues:

"The gateman was ok," Sakura said conversationally, "He sends his gratitude for the Kings Foil. His chest would have been better two days ago, to be honest, if he'd only leave off the smoking for a bit, but there really is no talking to old men…"

Her companion didn't respond. Her eyes tracked him as Aragorn paced in front of the fire, pausing only to peer through the fogged windows, before irritably returning to his pacing. She half expected to see a groove forming where he walked. He was clearly agitated. His pipe was in his mouth and he smoked it viciously, his fingers were white around it, and had she not known better Sakura might almost have thought the pipe had done him some personal ill. He was certainly abusing it enough. Soft thumps marked his passage from one side of the room to the other, and she was expecting someone below them to start banging on the ceiling with a broom anytime now.

Sakura drummed her fingers thoughtfully against the side of her cot. She lounged back with one leg propped up on her knee; one hand resting lightly on the leather bound book open on her stomach and the other along her side. It was Strider's own handwritten journal, a complete log of all the plants he knew of and their medicinal properties. He had leant it to her a couple of days ago, after she'd told him she was a field medic. It was intriguing. She had been surprised to find that many of the same plants that could heal could also be used as a poison if only a different part were used, and that he had incredibly neat handwriting. He'd even drawn meticulous little diagrams of each one, with little footnotes to illustrate differences between similar plants. Right now, however, he was wearing a hole in the floor.

"He told me that another of those riders – the ones with the black horses – came by last night," she continued, "All headed the same way, so he said."

This got a growl, and clenched fists, but little answer else. Sakura watched him make another circuit around the room. With a start, she realised that she was tapping her fingers in time with his footsteps, and quickly closed her fist. She knocked her knuckles against the side of the bed a couple of times in thought. Idly, she reached for the piece of cloth she'd pulled out of the rug and tucked it neatly between the journal's pages to mark her spot. Then, she tossed the little book gently onto the bed and swung her feet over onto the floor. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the cot and leaned forward slightly, tucking her elbows in close.

"I convinced one of the guys downstairs to teach me the dragon song," she offered.

Aragorn frowned disapprovingly but only crossed again to the window and peered out. Sakura sighed. Getting a reaction out of this guy was like prying a tooth out of a dead horse with no pliers. Her bangs blew gently as she huffed, and rested her elbows on her knees. Her pupils lazily drifted from side to side as she watched him. She didn't need to ask to know what the problem was – Aragorn's friend was now late by several days, and it was becoming obvious that he would not be coming at all. She found herself wishing she knew what to say. If Naruto were here he would deliver some loud, brilliant pep talk and everyone in the vicinity would be up and about and in high spirits again in seconds.

"You know," she said, inspired, "if my friend Naruto ever taught me anything, it was that no matter what, he wouldn't abandon me. I doubt your friend has abandoned you either."

"No," Aragorn muttered, as he reached the door and turned smartly on his heel, marching back toward the window. "No he would not. Something has happened; something terrible…He would not abandon them so easily."

Sakura jerked upright, "Them?" she repeated suspiciously and sat up ramrod straight on the cot. "What 'them'? Who're 'them'?"

Aragorn abruptly stopped, as if realising he'd slipped up. He stood facing the window, standing stiller than a dead rock. Sakura slowly got to her feet, but didn't move away from the bed. "Strider?" she asked cautiously. He didn't move.

"Aragorn?"

Slowly, he turned to her. It looked to Sakura like he was warring with himself, and she saw his chest rise and fall deeply as he took a big breath in. And in seconds he was in front of her. Urgently he took her hand and looked her dead in the eye.

"What is said here must not leave this room, Sakura."

"This really is worrying you isn't it?' she said softly, looking at him with concern. She wasn't used to seeing the great Strider look worried. "You have my word." Sakura said firmly. She seemed to be saying that a lot lately, but it seemed to put him at ease. Aragorn had a habit of scanning her face, she'd found, like he was reading her thoughts across her forehead. 'Your face betrays your thoughts' he'd said to her once. He must have seen no deception in her eyes, because he nodded and squeezed her hand. Her steady pulse under his fingertips told him that she spoke no lies. His frantic pulse under her hand told her that he was even more worried than he was letting on.

"Tell me what's going on Aragorn," she pleaded quietly. It was the same voice she used on Kakashi-sensei to break through his armour. Aragorn closed his eyes with a grim smile. But he could trust her to keep her word. He could trust Sakura.

"There are four hobbits coming," he said, and the gravity in his eyes told her that this was a heavy situation. This was serious business. Unconsciously she stood up straighter. "One of these hobbits carries an object of great value and power. Gandalf the Grey, a great wizard, was meant to meet them here in Bree, and it was he who contacted me with instruction to be here also. He would have me accompany them as far as Rivendell, the land of the elves and a place that will be safe for them," here he paused, and a shadow passed over his face, "and the object they carry."

Somehow, Sakura had the distinct feeling that this 'object' had a lot more significance than he was admitting to, but she didn't push it. Instead, she put on her most attentive face and waited as patiently as she could to be filled in. Aragorn was suddenly looking more tired, older than he'd ever looked.

"Something must have befallen him, Sakura," he told her, "and I fear the worst."

She nodded slowly, brain whirring.

"These hobbits, they are on their way here? Right now?" she repeated with apprehension. "Alone?"

"I fear so," he confirmed dismally. "You recall the Black Rider you saw at the gate?" She nodded. "They are dark creatures who are seeking this object, no doubt pursuing the Halflings as we speak. I fear for their safety. Sakura, I know you are a mercenary in your homeland. I would not put such a burden on one so young, but I will not abandon you, and I know you can help me. Will you?"

Sakura took a moment to absorb all this. Aragorn, seeing this as hesitance, thought quickly.

"I can pay you Sakura, thrice as much as you owe me if you think that sum proper."

She shook her head immediately. "I don't want paying, but if you will consider this payment of my debt to you?" He nodded, and she mimicked the gesture. She spoke slowly "And what about sending me home?"

He wasted no words "I do not doubt, if it is at all in his power, that Gandalf will meet us in Rivendell."

Sakura frowned in thought. Here was a situation handed to her on a platter - a chance to repay her debt to the Ranger and prove her worth, and yet he seemed so...concerned. But if these hobbits were in danger - and they most certainly were - then, basically, it boiled down to "Protect the innocent and go home". She had seen hobbits in Bree, and they hardly looked like the sort that could cope with it. They were small, vulnerable creatures, and the very moment he'd mentioned protecting the Halflings she'd been assaulted by her conscience (who sounded suspiciously like Naruto) demanding that she help them. Not to mention that his friend may be her only chance of going home.

'Mission accepted.' she thought.

"I want my weapons back," she said.

Relieved, Aragorn squeezed her hand gently.

"Thank you Sakura."

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Sakura had taken to visiting the gate each morning, to check on the gate-keeper, who, when all was said and done, was just a suspicious old man with an unhealthy love of tobacco. He was mistrusting and invariably short when he had no choice but to speak with her, but even so he could be counted upon to recount every incident of the previous night. He insisted that she check his chest every other day, but she quickly learned to simply relay Striders instructions as to the use of a Kings Foil poultice and send him to bed while his grandson relieved him of the watch.

And then he'd send her on her way with a very reluctant "Thank ye' Stranger."

One thing of importance that she did gather from him, was that the Rider's had demanded of him the name of 'Baggins', on more than one occasion. She didn't know who 'Baggins' was, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it would not be a good day when the Rider's found him. It did cross her mind that the hobbits they were expecting may be travelling under that name, and made a note to press Strider for as many details as he'd give.

He rarely gave any, but she was getting better at reading his expressions. When she mentioned the name 'Baggins' for example, his brows drew down in a thoughtful sort of frown, as if he were trying to recall something he'd heard or read a long time ago. Whenever she brought up the Black Rider's, he bore a particularly grim face. She tried not to mention his missing friend. He struck her as a very loyal person, much like Naruto, in a different sort of way.

It was a strange sort of routine they'd fallen into. She'd return to the Inn for her bath – she took it at the same time each day – and the washhouse would be empty. Apparently being a Ranger commanded privacy, because she'd not had to share it since the first day she'd used it. She'd ruffle her damp hair as she walked back to the Inn, and tug up her hood as she passed through the door into the dining hall. Aragorn would have already commandeered breakfast, and if he were not at their usual table then he would be in their room with both meals. They'd taken breakfast in their room most days recently. Though, she'd also taken to midnight jogs across the rooftops, for fear of the sheer amount of fat that filled the Innkeeper's meals. Butterbur (she'd finally learned his name) was aptly named indeed.

On this day, she had learned that the Black Riders had not been seen by anyone the past two nights, and the gruff old man had been considerably more chipper. Butterbur sent up one of his footmen, Nob, with plates of bacon, and soft doughy bread. He dismissed himself quickly enough, and they were left to their breakfast. Each sat opposite one another on their own beds, their cloaks spilling over and onto the floor. Through mouthfuls of crumbs, she relayed what she'd learned from the gatekeeper to Aragorn, but he was not optimistic.

"That might merely mean that they are now coming back in the other direction," he said darkly.

"Then let's hope our hobbits are coming back ahead of them," said she.

She found herself alone again as the day went on. Strider had 'gone out for a walk' some time ago and yet to return. She suspected that he was traversing the borders of Bree-land or spying on the road or some such activity – no doubt growing all the more restless. She had thought about following him, but with no real idea as to the terrain or her place in it, she was more likely to be a hindrance than a help. Even so, she found herself missing his company; for all that it'd been mostly surly of late. She was a ninja used to constant activity – either in the hospital or outside the village – and sitting idly wasn't her style in the slightest. She didn't like feeling useless.

In the end she pressed Butterbur for a map and spent a good couple of hours in her room, poring over it. She stumbled over the strange names and laughed incredulously at the ridiculous annotations – 'here be dragons' indeed. She found the spot marked "Bree" and tried to trace the path she and Aragorn had taken through the woods, and tried to pick out 'Rivendell' amid the carefully hand-drawn black lines. And by the time the light faded and dusk set in Aragorn had returned.

Six'o'clock found the candles and the fire lit, the ale flowing, and the meat roasting. The two companions hooded and cloaked, sat quietly in the bustling hall of the Inn, at their usual table in the darkest corner. Once again, they awaited the arrival of their charges, just as they had the past few nights. She'd been far from fond of the drink when she'd first arrived, but now Sakura nursed her pint of the Pony's finest ale like a pro. Aragorn had lit up his pipe again, and with his being sat right back in the corner only the occasional flaring embers illuminated his chin, while the rest of him was shadowed. It gave him a rather creepy appearance and, idly, Sakura wondered if that was the desired effect. Somewhere on the other side of the room, someone began singing the dragon song again. Sakura began humming along.

"Must you do that?" Aragorn growled, puffing agitatedly on his pipe.

"I could sing it if you like."

He snorted. His eyes scanned the crowd darkly for hobbits. "There will be four of them travelling together," he muttered around the pipe, "that was the last missive I received from Gandalf. No doubt they will ask for him, when they arrive. But from here I cannot get a decent view of the reception, and rising from my seat will draw attention I do not need."

"What if we have missed them already?" Sakura murmured, raising her glass to her lips to hide her mouth.

"We must watch and listen. No doubt they will stay around in the hope Gandalf will arrive and meet with them, as he promised. If they are here, at some point one or other of them must speak that name."

Sakura made a vague hum of agreement and turned her attention back to the doorway, which led through to the foyer.

"I've got an idea," she whispered, and stood as if to go to the bathroom. Indeed, she wandered off that way and Aragorn watched silently and curiously as she disappeared around the corner, ignored by the rest of the patrons. What could be more natural than going to the bathroom? He was bemused when she returned to her seat not 5 minutes later, and wondered what exactly that was supposed to have achieved. He was about to ask, when she lifted her head and winked conspiratorially at him. Then to his surprise, she tilted her head meaningfully at the ceiling.

Only Aragorn's iron-like self control stopped him exclaiming out loud, as a second Sakura scurried on all-fours upside-down across the high ceiling, slipping in and out of the shadows so quickly that he almost didn't believe he'd seen her. The Sakura beside him merely sat quietly sipping her ale, utterly unperturbed. He had to take a hurried puff of his pipe to stop his mouth from falling open.

"What magic is that?" he breathed, eyes tracking the copy as it slipped through the doorway and disappeared onto the foyer ceiling. He remembered Sakura telling him that warriors of her lands could use 'techniques' similar to magic, but never had he imagined such a gift. He found himself torn between admiration and apprehension, as the implications set in. If Sakura could wield magic in such a way, despite her age and size, he was suddenly much more sure that she could very well have caused him harm, weapons or not. He felt his respect for the girl increase, and his trust, as he realised that while she could have, not once did she attempt to recover her possessions from him. And more than anything, in that moment he was glad Sakura was on his side.

The clone easily made her way to the entrance halls, and slipped into the shadows between two thick beams, where she would be unseen by anyone who happened to glance at the ceiling. She tucked the hems of her copied cloak into her boots, so as to prevent them hanging down, and found the most comfortable spot to crouch in. Then, with medical precision, she channelled chakra to her eardrums to magnify her hearing, and settled in to listen.

Two nights passed in the same manner. Each night, Sakura created a clone to keep watch on the foyer, while she and Aragorn kept track of the bar and dining hall. Their hoods allowed them to observe discreetly, and if the Innkeeper noticed that they had been taking their meals in the hall more frequently over the past four days, he said nothing.

Until, finally, on a night when the rain fell like a vertical river and the clouds rumbled like an angry dragon, four very bedraggled looking Hobbits stumbled into the Inn. They were dirt-smeared and looking rather worse for wear, with their travelling cloaks ringing wet and their clothes muddy. One bore a bruise on his cheek; another, a series of scratches. They looked for all the world like they'd been dragged through a bush backwards, tumbled down a hill, and then gotten up and gone for a jog in the rain after that. There was one with very dark-hair, and it was this hobbit that wasted no time attracting the attention of the innkeeper. Sakura's clone took note of how he hesitated before stating his name, and how he repeated it unnecessarily. "Underhill" was almost certainly not his real name. She allowed herself a triumphant internal 'Shannaro!' as he mentioned Gandalf.

"Oh yes, I remember, elderly chap, big grey beard?" she watched pityingly as the four began to nod excitedly, only for their faces to fall when the Innkeeper continued: "Haven't seen him for 6 months" The Innkeeper took little note of their dismayed faces however, and after handing them a pair of keys, quickly bustled off to tend the bar. Sakura's clone frowned at this information, and filed it away to report to Aragorn. The hobbits looked at each other helplessly, before the fattest one appeared to take charge, and began to steer the dark-haired hobbit down the hallway towards the rooms with the circular doors. The clone followed, unnoticed on the ceiling. She made a mental note of the room numbers, watching the hobbits split into pairs and disappear through the doors. Then, with nothing more to be done, she quickly dismissed herself with a barely noticeable poof of smoke, and the original Sakura sat up abruptly in her seat downstairs, as the information flooded into her head.

"There," she whispered as they entered the dining hall some time later. "Come looking for a feed no doubt, they look like they haven't eaten in days."

Indeed, the four hobbits shuffled nervously into the hall and found a table. Two of them, the shortest one and the sandy haired one, made a beeline for the bar and returned with half-pints in each hand. The dark-haired hobbit – the one who'd named himself 'Underhill' – tried to refuse, but the drink was pushed into his hand regardless and it was obvious that his companions didn't care for the word 'no'.

"Oh look, they're teaching the little one the dragon song."

"That song is highly inappropriate."

"I bet you know all the words," she grinned at him over the rim of her glass. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he sternly moved his gaze back to the hobbits. The fat Hobbit had just pointed them out to the dark-haired one, who was now making a poor job of observing them 'discreetly'. Sakura snorted next to him, and he knew she'd seen it too.

"I'll bet you a drink that big one comes over here soon to demand what we're looking at," she whispered conspiratorially, watching the fatter hobbit, who seemed to be leacturing the dark-haired one about eating his food.

"The other one is too cautious; he'll ask the Innkeeper who we are."

Sakura watched as the big hobbit began to frown and muttered something to his companion, before making to rise from the table. But his friend clasped a hand around his arm and pulled him back down into his seat. The Innkeeper bustled past the hobbits' table a short time later, carrying a tray of glasses, and the dark one grabbed his apron as he passed. They watched as 'Underhill' motioned toward them with a subtle tilt of his head and whispered urgently with him. The Innkeeper looked up straight into two hooded gazes, and immediately dropped his head again. Sakura tried to read his lips, but only made out the words 'Strider' and 'Stranger'.

'They're them Rangers, best stay away from them,' the Innkeeper was saying, 'No-one rightly knows their names, but the tall one has been around a long time. Folks around here call him Strider.'

'Strider?' whispered Frodo, 'And the other one?'

'Showed up a couple weeks of ago. Even less is known about that one. Known only as Stranger round 'ere.' And with that he bustled off again, leaving the two hobbits to discuss unhappily.

"Damn," said Sakura. "Put it on my tab."

Aragorn grunted with amusement and tossed the money pouch to her.

"Pint of the Pony's finest, coming up." She tossed him a little salute and strolled over to the bar. The patrons seemed to flow out of her way, giving her a clear path, and two raised fingers was all it took to get two brimming pints on the bar in front of her. Damn but there were some perks to this Ranger business.

"What's that?" asked a curious, friendly little voice. Sakura turned to see the shortest of the four hobbits sat by her, swinging his legs idly. Her eyebrow slid up her forehand, and she turned to him, resting her elbow on the bar.

"A pint," she said conversationally. "I lost a bet with a friend and had to buy him one."

"It comes in Pints?" he exclaimed, "Brilliant!" He began frantically trying to wave down the Innkeeper. Sakura laughed as his efforts nearly toppled his barstool. She decided to try something, and raised a hand; the Innkeeper was over in a heartbeat.

"Nice trick," said the hobbit, suitably impressed. Sakura waved him toward the Halfling, sipping her drink. She casually slid her eyes over to Aragorn in the corner, and saw him looking back at her. She tipped her head toward the hobbit beside her, and he nodded discreetly. Permission to delay drink delivery – granted.

"I have to admit," she said lightly, "I haven't seen a lot of Hobbits on the road. Most here live locally," she nodded at the throng of Underhill's now surrounding the dark-haired hobbit, having apparently decided that he was some long lost cousin. His friend was looking severely disgruntled at the crowding. "Those there are the Underhills. Family of your friend's, no doubt?"

"Who?" he replied distractedly.

"Mr Underhill? You came with him didn't you?"

"Oh no, no I came with Frodo Baggins – that's him ther-oof!"

"Pippin!"

"Steady On!"

The fourth hobbit – the one with the sandy hair - had appeared out of the crowd like a whirlwind and grabbed 'Pippin', pulling him roughly off the barstool. "What are you doing you brainless Took?" he hissed "You can't go around yelling that name about." He looked up nervously at Sakura, who made a show of casually drinking her beer. "Come on," he muttered, pulling the other hobbit away. Sakura smirked, and sauntered back across the bar to the corner table.

"You are fired as a waitress," Strider murmured quietly as she plopped into her seat.

"But excellent as a spy," she countered, pushing his drink toward him and handing him the money pouch back under the table. "Our 'Mr. Underhill's name is in fact Baggins, Frodo Baggins I believe. And the sandy-haired one called the shorter one Pippin, but I didn't get the names of the other two."

"Not important," he muttered distractedly, "Young Mr. Baggins is definitely our hobbit."

"I'd say so; they are certainly going to lengths to hide who he is." Sakura began drumming her fingers against the tabletop, watching the four hobbits – now huddled close and discussing something avidly – with a hidden frown. She ducked her head a tad to allow her hood to fall further over her face. Something was nagging at the back of her brain, something that told her that the name 'Baggins' should mean something to her. The four hobbits looked up at them occasionally. Pippin caught her eye – he thought, she still had her hood up – and waved. She was amused to see his friend grab his hand and pin it to the table, clearly admonishing him. She gave Pippin a small wave, just to spite that friend. 'Frodo' was fingering something under his shirt nervously, she noticed, and eventually took it out and began fiddling with it, obviously not listening to his friends, who'd finally managed to disperse the Underhills. She couldn't see what it was, only that it was on the end of a long chain.

It was then that a rowdy drunk, a beefy man with eyes redder than tomatoes, staggered away from the bar singing the dragon song at the top of his voice.

"Oooooooooh I've a bonny pet dragoooon,

He stands but six inches high-"

The hobbits looked up in surprise and annoyance as he stumbled toward their table, knocking over several barstools and one or two patrons in his wake. That wouldn't have been much of a problem, save as an irritant and a tale to tell by the fire later, if he hadn't toppled directly into the hobbits' table on his way past, and knocked Baggins to the floor.

The hobbit cried out as he fell, his arms flailing as he tumbled backwards. The fatter hobbit lunged to catch him, only to knock into the drunk, who was trying to get to his feet again. Hobbit and man hit the table in a tangle of limbs. Sakura saw nothing more than a flash of gold, before Baggins hit the floor with his hands outstretched and disappeared immediately. The Inn was instantly in uproar, Aragorn had jolted forward in his seat, and Sakura – suspecting that he was about to leap up and grab the wayward hobbit (wherever he was) – instantly moved to distract the crowd.

She leapt to her feet and dropped the glass in her hand with a noisy crash, and after a calculated moment of apparent shock, bounded over to the remaining hobbits to congratulate them on their friend's performance. She loudly declared that she had "always loved magicians, though their tricks were nought but smoke and mirrors" and the patrons, breaking into relieved and accepting smiles began to join in her raucous applause. Sakura clapped Pippin on the back and as the momentum of the strong slap carried her forward, hissed the number of their room in his ear. Hobbits had good hearing apparently, because his two friends' eyes widened comically too. But Sakura had slipped away through the crowd of exited and congratulatory patrons before they could say a word.

A glance back at the corner revealed Aragorn to be nowhere in sight, and she slipped away up the stairs after him, leaving the hobbits to disentangle themselves from the crowd. A little chakra to enhance her speed and a shortcut across the ceiling, and she'd soon reached the room she shared with Aragorn. When Sakura slid into the room, it was to find him sat in his wooden chair – his posture was tense; shoulders set forward and arms resting on his knees; his expression troubled, and just a little put upon. Mr. Frodo Baggins stood nervously with his back against the cot, though it seemed to Sakura that he was trying to appear unconcerned. All the same, his hand was clenched around something, and his knuckles were white. He hadn't noticed her yet.

"Well?" said Aragorn at last; frustrated. "Why did you do that? Worse than anything your friends could have said!"

The hobbit started. Either he hadn't known about Pippin's slip up, or else Strider's knowledge of it was a surprise to him. But he only scowled and gave no response, until Strider continued with the agitated statement: "You've gone and put your foot in it now! Or should I say your finger?" Then Mr. Baggins truly showed his alarm.

"What do you mean?" he demanded quickly. "What do you want?"

"Well," said Sakura mildly from the door, "a little more caution from you might be nice." He spun around so quickly that he almost slipped, and was forced to catch himself on the edge of the cot. "Fancy vanishing in the middle of a crowded room," she continued as if he hadn't reacted at all. "Not suspicious in the slightest," she added sarcastically.

"Indeed." Aragorn's voice carried an unmistakeable edge to it. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely?" He abruptly jerked back his hood and stared meaningfully at the Hobbit, a strange sort of gleam in his eye. "That is a rare gift."

"Who are you?" The fear in his voice was evident, and only magnified when Aragorn scornfully told him that he was not nearly frightened enough.

"I know what hunts you. The black horsemen have passed through Bree."

He rose from his seat and began moving toward the hobbit, but a scuffling sound outside the door had him instantly drawing his bow, and Sakura's hands flew to her kunai-pouch. If she thought it odd that he did not draw his sword, she put it out of her mind for the time being and concentrated on the turning doorknob. Suddenly the door was flung open. It banged loudly against the wall and swung slowly on its hinges. There in the doorway stood Baggins' three companions, brandishing candlesticks and chairs, and one with his fists in the air.

"Let 'im go! Or I'll 'av you Longshanks!" the fat hobbit roared, purple in the face. The other two shook their 'weapons' at him in agreement, doing their best to look fierce. They were loyal, these hobbits, Sakura mused, even as she began calculating the trajectory needed to knock the chairs and candlesticks out of their hands with a well thrown kunai. But this wasn't her mission to lead, so she waited for Aragorn's signal. Aragorn however, looked relieved, and lowered his weapon.

"You have a stout heart little Hobbit." He said to the fat hobbit, but ignored them otherwise. He nodded to Sakura, who silently returned her knives to the pouch, and then, just for the image of the thing, closed the door with a loud snap. The Halflings jumped, not having seen her behind the door and instantly spun around with fear in their faces.

"Stranger!" The stout one exclaimed, "Ganging up on us are you? Just what do you blokes think you're doing?"

Sakura was less than impressed. 'Bloke?' She drew herself up to her full height and with a flicker of her hand; she had a kunai between her fingers. She raised it sharply to point at him, and made it two steps in his direction before Aragorn intercepted her and caught her hand with surprising strength. She growled. She would have done much more if Aragorn hadn't squeezed her wrist meaningfully. Pippin looked like he wanted to say something, but Strider spoke before the hobbit could get a word in.

"Be careful Mr. Hobbit," Strider said sternly. "You could insult someone like that."

He reached up his free hand slowly, in the same way one would approach a volatile animal. Sakura's eyes slid sideways to watch him, but she made no move to stop him. Ninja were trained to follow their team leader's directions without question, and since Aragorn was not Kakashi she wasn't about to push it and oppose him… especially when he still had a strong grip on her wrist. Not in front of the hobbits, at least. They had to present a united front and all that…. Aragorn however did nothing more harmless than gently pushing back her hood to reveal her pink hair and distinctly feminine features. The look of utter, jaw dropping shock on the stout hobbit's face was totally worth it.

And with that she flicked her knife into the floor between his feet, embedding it by an inch, and levelled a fierce glare in his direction.

"You're awfully lucky that he's on your side, you know," she snarled quietly – her infamous temper was showing. Her nostrils flared and she was sure she could feel a vein throbbing in her temple.

"And that she is on mine," added the Ranger in a rather meaningful voice. Sakura sniffed, and straightened up, tugging her wrist out of his grip and brushing imaginary lint off her cloak. In the process of not-looking at Aragorn, her eyes alighted on Pippin, and a thought occurred to her of a sudden.

"Did you think I was a man?" she accused.

"Of course not!" Pippin cried in his defence. "Why, I thought you had one the loveliest voices as I've ever heard!"

She retreated, appeased, even as the little hobbit flushed under the scrutiny of his peers. Frodo stepped forward, and would have tried to get the conversation back on subject, if not for a knock at the door which interrupted him before he could speak.

All eyes flew to the door, and this time they knew it could not be the hobbits.

To be continued…

For your benefit, changes (if they're not obvious) made to this chapter include:

Pretty much everything except the last 500 words or so.

Aragorn and Sakura experience a little more camaraderie

NEW EDIT: I HAVE BEEN TRAVERSING SECOND HAND BOOKSHOPS AND FINALLY GOT MY OWN COPIES OF ALL THREE LOTR BOOKS (INSTEAD OF STEALING MUM'S) AND HAVE BEEN READING THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING. I'VE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH THE BOOKS MORE THAN EVER AND SO I'M CHANGING MY STORY TO BE A BIT MORE LOYAL TO THE ORIGINAL BOOK. PEOPLE WHO HAVE READ THE BOOKS WILL RECOGNISE THOSE BITS. Of course, people will probably be rolling their eyes at me now, since I can't seem to be happy with anything I write. Oh well.

SEE IF YOU CAN SPOT THE NEW CHANGES. (Hint: I've changed things in other chapters too….yeah I know, I'm a pain eh? Sorry)

~Devi1OnUrShou1der~