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 Four:
In which a long-overdue letter is received
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 knob turned slowly, as if whomever was on the other side was afraid to enter, or worse, so assured of their skill that they felt they could take the extra time.
Beside her, Sakura felt Aragorn tense, and his hand hovered over his quiver. Sakura slid a new kunai out of her leg holster and moved her legs into a ready stance. The hobbits backed up.
The knob stopped turning.
And then, came a hesitant knock.
"Mr…ah…Strider? I be'n sent lookin' fer Mr Underhill, and well, I thought I'd seen 'im with you earlier, if'n you'll pardon my sayin' so sir."
It was the unmistakeable voice of Nob – the Innkeepers hand – and behind him Sakura was certain she could hear another body shifting about and making the floorboards creak. Strider relaxed fractionally and strode to the door. In one fluid moment it was open and the Ranger filled the doorway. Sakura quickly jerked her hood back up over her face.
"Ah, Nob," he said coolly, "And Mr. Butterbur. Do invite yourselves in."
Nob flushed guiltily, but the two men shuffled in nonetheless. Sakura carefully tucked her arms under her cloak and out of sight.
"Mr Underhill!" declared the Innkeeper, "So you are here. Well Nob I've done you a disservice." Nob was too busy watching the Ranger warily and made no reply, and even old Butterbur shifted uncomfortably when Strider merely sat down in silence upon his chair. All eyes turned to Frodo.
"Oh, yes. We've been having a little talk," he said, with a small smile. It was a good thing that the rest of the hobbits had dropped their weapons already or the whole situation would have looked much worse than that, but Butterbur accepted the explanation with little more than a look in Strider's direction, and smiled encouragingly at the hobbit. "What brings you looking for me Mr Butterbur?" Frodo went on to ask, as politely as he could.
"Why, first of all to apologise, Mr. Hobbit, for you see my memory is less like a sponge and more like sieve these days, so to speak, and it had quite slipped my mind until earlier this evening – that is – until the commotion downstairs, caused such a stir-" here he levelled a vaguely disapproving look at Frodo, who didn't have the heart to stop his ramblings, and who was hoping he'd get to the point soon so that he could get back to questioning the Rangers. They knew so much more than he felt comfortable with, and yet had made no move to hurt him.
"-well," continued the innkeeper, "I retired to my office of a moment, to make what I could of that little shenanigan - such stories I heard! – when I happened to spy on my desk this letter, and blowed if I wasn't ready to smack meself o'er the head then and there sir, for forgetting."
Frodo looked at him in bewilderment as Butterbur began to pat down every pocket on his person, and fished out a crumpled letter at last.
"It's for you sir," said he, helpfully, "leastways, I think so. That is, the old man Gandalf did pass through here, and did give it to me with a description that matches you pretty well, if I may say so, and said you'd be under the name of 'Underhill'. But bless me if there aren't enough of those here already! I'd quite forgotten. I felt that there was something I'd left out when you first asked!" he declared the last proudly, like a child showing off to their parent, but Frodo was less impressed.
"A letter from Gandalf? Well give it here, man!"
Butterbur hesitated, sending a loaded look toward Strider, and Aragorn's brows drew down with the slightest tightening at the corners of his mouth. Frodo didn't notice - the hobbit all but snatched the envelope from the Innkeepers hand. Sure enough the words: 'FRODO BAGGINS, CARE OF THE PRANCING PONY INN, BREE' were scrawled across it in the wizard's unmistakeable handwriting. Strider confirmed it.
"That is certainly his handwriting," he mused, leaning over the little hobbits shoulder.
"You know Gandalf?" asked Frodo in some surprise, "Why did you not say so before?"
"Would you have believed me?" answered Strider. "In any case, I was about to," here he looked at Butterbur, "but that is neither here nor there. We both know him, and that letter is from him. See? He has even put a little 'G' rune down there in the corner." He pointed out the mark on the paper.
Sam shuffled closer to Frodo and looked at it distrustfully.
"It does look just like that funny symbol he used to put on his fireworks Frodo," said Pippin, obviously feeling a need to contribute. His sandy-haired friend nodded vigorously in agreement.
Sakura hung back, feeling oddly left out all of a sudden. Did everyone in this bloody place know that guy? In any case, so many were now crowded around the dark-haired hobbit that she'd never be able to see whatever was written. And if this Gandalf person was writing in runes or symbols or whatever they were talking about then she highly doubted she'd be able to read even half of it anyway. Instead she crossed her arms and waited for one of them to continue speaking. She saw Aragorn glance up at her and nudge Frodo gently to start reading aloud. Feeling that he'd soon be outnumbered if he didn't, he obliged.
"Dear Frodo," Frodo began, "Bad news has reached me here."
He paused in some alarm, and his eyes flicked up to the top of the letter. "It's dated midyears day."
"Then it is very late in coming," said Strider grimly, and encouraged him to read on.
Sakura put her 'perfect' memory to use – she listened carefully; each word was filed away neatly into her brain, ready to be pulled out later at a moments notice; should it be necessary. She listened with a deepening frown as the letter went on to warn the hobbit to leave quickly, not to use 'It' and not to travel by night. This 'wizard' wrote like he was in some danger, or about to be, though he said he would follow them. Some things she knew already – the letter told Baggins to make for Rivendell, a destination which Aragorn had already made clear to her – and others caused her to raise her eyebrows – such as when the letter described 'Strider' in detail and told the hobbits to trust in him, that he was a friend and knew their business. She might almost have thought it a clever ruse on the ranger's part, if she hadn't gotten to know the man somewhat well in the time she'd spent with him. He was too honourable for such a trick, Sakura felt, and in any case she'd seen his handwriting in his little hand-written plant journal. His writing was too neat and carefully scripted to match this untidy spider-scratch. Not to mention Butterbur was much entirely suspicious of him.
The letter concluded with a strange little verse, and the ninja's eyebrows slowly disappeared into her hair. Whoever put poetry in serious letters like that? She felt incredulous. Sakura began to feel a little suspicious about the level of sanity of this 'wizard'. Wasting time and words like that could get you killed. And what was the point in talking in circles to someone you were trying to help? Confusion didn't help anyone, she thought, least of all lost Hobbits and grim Rangers.
"All that is gold does not glitter," Frodo read in a clear voice.
"Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
The hobbit was obviously practiced at reciting poetry. His voice seemed to pitch it perfectly, but it was not the hobbit that caught Sakura's eye. There was a distinct glint of recognition in Aragorn's face that told her that he knew this poem, or knew of it. She was suddenly stricken with the idea that whoever this Gandalf was, he'd intended that verse for Aragorn, and not for Frodo at all. And that made him cleverer, or more cunning, than she'd given him credit for. It occurred to her that she had failed to 'read underneath the underneath' as Kakashi liked to say. He'd be disappointed in her, her mind told her rather shamefully, and she straitened; paying careful attention to the words.
Frodo continued, absorbed in his letter:
"From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be King."
"Why, what on earth does that mean?" cried Pippin. "It's uplifting and pretty to be sure, all talk of Kings and renewal and light springing forth and such, but what good does it do us?"
Sakura wondered that herself.
"Gandalf wouldn't have written it if it wasn't important," said Frodo a tad defensively.
"So you don't know either then?" the sandy haired hobbit cut in with a cheeky grin, earning a deep scowl from Frodo.
"There's another postscript," Strider interrupted softly. Sakura noticed that Butterbur and Nob seemed to be edging closer – they were leaning towards the hobbits in a manner so far from subtle that Sakura was surprised they hadn't simply fallen over sideways yet. She also wondered why she hadn't noticed earlier and gave herself a mental kick. That was twice she'd slipped up – even if nobody else was aware of it. She was getting too easily distracted. She had to remember that this was a mission.
Sakura carefully shifted her position, allowing the floorboard to creak just loudly enough for the Innkeeper and his assistant to freeze where they were and snap their attention toward her. She gave them a smile; knowing full well that in the shadow of her hood it would look more sinister than she could ever make it otherwise. It was, she acknowledged to herself, a trick pretty much stolen off Aragorn. She liked to think he found it amusing.
He did; not that she noticed his quickly hidden smile. But they really had no time for such amusements as teasing Butterbur. He redirected the hobbits' attention to the paper and broke up the pending argument as best he could. Luckily, Frodo did little more than frowned at his smirking friend one more time; and soon he dropped his gaze back to the letter.
"If Butterbur forgets I shall roast him" he read, his smile growing again. "Well, my dear fellow, you did forget," he said semi-sympathetically to the Innkeeper, who looked quite pale, and began to edge away a little.
"And you shall certainly be roasted," added Aragorn, a little spitefully, Sakura thought. Perhaps he had finally had enough of the suspicious looks and meaningful glances. It was more likely however, that his impatience stemmed from the fact that, while news from his wayward friend was welcome, time was wasting. Butterbur had wasted yet more of it by not getting this letter to the hobbit sooner. If he had, all that suspicious blustering earlier might have been avoided, and they might already be on their way.
Butterbur got the point. With record breaking quickness he and Nob had removed themselves with a hurried goodnight and a promise of a prompt breakfast, and soon the hobbits once more found themselves alone with the two Rangers.
The atmosphere in the room was a strange kind of tense; no longer suspicious, but still a little wary, and more than a little expectant. The hobbits looked at Strider, who was watching Frodo. Frodo looked on the Ranger with curiosity – any fear or hostility had more or less drained from him. It seemed to Sakura that the hobbit trusted a little too easily, especially in letters that, really, could have come from anywhere. It helped Aragorn and herself in their mission however, so she wasn't going to question it. His fat friend was inclined to be far less accommodating – his gaze was still distrustful. Of the other two, the sandy haired one looked more wary, while Pippin seemed to have regained his cheerful disposition and was rocking gently on the balls of his feet, looking expectantly between Strider and Frodo.
Catching the stout ones mistrusting glare, Sakura lowered her hood again in a mild display of goodwill, and relaxed her stance. Seeing as it didn't help much, she stifled a sigh and plonked herself down on Aragorn's bed instead. She drew up one leg and leant her elbow on it, and cradled her head in her hand, looking bored. In truth, she was entirely alert and keeping careful track of everything in the room, for all her face looked dull. It was a nifty little trick of Tsunade's that Sakura had finally caught onto. She only needed a bottle of Sake to make the look complete – alas, that particular drink seemed to be in short supply here. Nonetheless, the bigger hobbit moved his stare back to Aragorn.
She and Aragorn had almost religiously kept to their 'own' furniture during their stay in Bree, and she couldn't help a discrete glance to see his reaction. If he cared that she'd invaded his bed, though, he gave no indication of it.
The silence stretched out just a tad too long to be comfortable, when:
"Um….what now?" Pippin said. And just like that, the tension broke.
"Now," said Strider gravely, "you must decide what you are going to do." Here he looked at Frodo, and all eyes in the room followed his. Baggins shifted uncomfortably under the weighted gazes of all in the room. His large friend placed a hand one his shoulder, in a gesture that was probably supposed to be comforting. Frodo didn't acknowledge it. He appeared to be undecided.
Sakura nearly groaned out loud. She was sure people didn't take this long to make potentially life-threatening decisions in Konoha. Then again, she usually had Naruto, and it usually took him all of three seconds to have people eating out of his hand. There was just something about him that people trusted. 'He'd already have these hobbits in Rivendell by now', Sakura thought a little glumly. Perhaps she should start channelling her inner Naruto? Dye her hair blonde maybe?
"Perhaps we should start what?" the fat hobbit said sharply, and Sakura grimaced, realising she'd been muttering to herself. Damn but she needed to focus! Thinking of home too much was only going to affect her mission and she couldn't afford that. Not if she wanted to get home anyway.
"Perhaps you should start," Sakura said smoothly, (Thank you, Ibiki, what would I have done without 'Bare-faced lies, 101' ) "by making the most important decision."
"And what might that be?" the same hobbit rejoined, quite rudely. Sakura treated him to a raised eyebrow.
"Do you trust us?"
Frodo looked a little taken aback at her bluntness. Sam looked rather like he wanted to say 'No!' very loudly, and was holding himself back for his master's sake.
"There I believe," said Strider warily, "is the crux of the matter. My companion could not have put it more simply." He leaned back against the wall as if a great weight had settled on his shoulders.
"How can we trust people who won't tell us their real names?" asked Frodo cautiously, looking meaningfully between them.
Sakura remembered thinking the same of Aragorn not so long ago, but she wasn't about to tell him that. Instead she put on her sweetest smile and fixed her eyes on Frodo.
"How indeed? Mr. Underhill?"
Frodo flushed. Aragorn threw her a loaded glance which all too clearly said: 'Hypocrite'. But there was also gratitude in that glance. Aragorn was relieved to find that Sakura had been serious in her pledge to help him. She seemed to have some skill with negotiating, a sharp wit and sharper tongue. She was proving to be an asset indeed, and he felt oddly happy to know that he would not have to protect the hobbits alone. Friends in the wild were hard to come by, and he was starting to think of Sakura as a worthwhile companion indeed. Not to mention, she was remarkably blunt – it was rather refreshing – and subtle in turns, such that it was almost impossible to guess her mood from one moment to the next. Her temper could flare and snap at any moment, and yet the next she'd be gentle as a lamb. To befriend Sakura was to be constantly on ones toes, and to his surprise Aragorn found it almost, oddly, fun. Sakura was an oddity.
Sakura stared unrelentingly at the hobbit. It was almost like she was trying to bore his answer out through the back of his head. Frodo glanced from her, to Strider, and down to his letter.
"Gandalf says we can trust Strider," he said uncertainly, "And I trust Gandalf. But, he makes no mention of Stranger." Here his eyes flicked up to hers and held them. She nodded agreeably.
"That is true," she answered in her 'dammit-Sakura-be-diplomatic' voice. "I, personally, do not know Gandalf, nor he me. Strider is our mutual friend, and one whom I came to visit. I arrived in Bree-land some weeks ago, and found him here."
"And I felt that she could be of help," Aragorn interjected. "I told her of Gandalf's request of me – that I should meet him here, and if fate delayed him, in Rivendell. I know your business Mr. Baggins, and I know that my friend can help us. That is why I asked her to remain."
Sakura nodded her support of this story, and Frodo nodded hesitantly in turn.
"If you do not mind," he began formally, "I'd like some time to confer with my companions."
Strider spoke before Sakura had a chance to reply. "That is understandable. Please, feel free to leave, though I would perhaps suggest that you avoid the dining room?"
Everyone in the room grimaced a tad, remembering Frodo's rather disastrous accident. The hobbit bowed stiffly to both Sakura and Aragorn – Sakura was surprised to find such a similarity to her own country's custom – and the four left the room whispering with their heads close. Sakura directed a reproachful frown at Aragorn.
"Oh yes, just let them wander off alone again why don't you?" she said, annoyed.
"Actually I was rather hoping you could perform that…copying…technique again?" he watched her out of the corner of his eye, and Sakura's face split into a much happier half-grin, half-smirk of understanding. She hopped off the bed in short order and one flurry of hand-signs later, a second Sakura stood by her. The clone took off without instruction, slipping away out of the window. "They need to feel that they can trust us," Aragorn said quietly.
Sakura scoffed. "They've got no choice but to trust us."
They agreed to give the hobbits an hour. They didn't need to.
It had grown dark in the time that they'd spent arguing and discussing, and a scarce twenty minutes after the hobbits had left a familiar chill crept over the Inn. Sakura sat up straight, listening intently. Aragorn had stiffened at the window. Then, through the night rent a piercing noise – almost a scream – and with it came the sound of a horse neighing shrilly. Sakura blinked in surprise as her clone dismissed itself abruptly. Her breath caught as the information hit her head – the unmistakeable silhouette on the road, the cold, the frightening lack of distance between the eastern gate and the Inn…The sound of feet echoed down the hallway and the door was flung open. Four hobbits stood panting on the step.
"Riders!" cried Frodo, "Black Riders! They came down the Greenway by the eastern gate and passed close by the Inn. I could feel them," he ended in a whisper.
Strider stood with an alarmed expression flitting across his hard features. "Perhaps it would be best if you did not return to your rooms tonight, hobbits." He looked to Sakura with the face of a leader, and she unconsciously straightened up like a soldier at inspection. "Go to the hobbits room. Fix it as best you can to look like they are there." She didn't hesitate to comply.
Sakura debated about making four new clones, but felt she should reserve her chakra as best she could. Somehow she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd need it. Instead, she made do with pillows, and blankets rolled up under the covers, and a brown mat from in front of the hearth – which she thought rather accurately resembled Frodo Baggins' hair.
That done; Sakura locked the door from the inside and made a low-powered clone - it had just enough chakra to sustain it while it locked the window after her, and then vanished in a puff of smoke. She returned to the room to find that Aragorn had bedded down two hobbits to a bed – top and tail – and the Ranger on guard by the window. The hobbits, despite being travel-worn and shadowed by worry and suspicion in consciousness were, when asleep, actually quite angelic in appearance. Cute, almost.
But she didn't stay to watch them. Having ascertained that everything was taken care of, she didn't argue when Aragorn asked her quietly to return to the hobbits room and guard it. She found a concealed spot and settled in to wait.
The air outside chilled as the night drew on.
To be continued…
For your benefit, changes (if they're not obvious) made to this chapter include:
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.
ENTIRELY NEW CHAPTER: NEVER BEFORE SEEN!
~Devi1OnUrShou1der~