Yes! Just enough time to update! Please enjoy, thank you to those who kindly reviewed in the last update, I don't own lotr (which is sad).

What was I doing here?, I thought to myself, brushing rain drops away from my nose. The journey by ferry had been awfully quiet, and since then we had come upon Brandywine bridge and had to walk for most of a day and long into the evening. We were all exhausted, seeing as we had been too on edge to get a decent amount of sleep after our encounter with the Riders. The long walk that followed early in the morning had given me plenty of time to question my reasons for being here, and come to the conclusion that I, Gideon, son of Fili, and of Rue, third-born prince of Erebor, hated adventures. What about this was so exciting for Fali anyhow? I had never felt more uncomfortable in my life.

The sleeping on a bedroll, out in the open, the process of keeping afire going, and the eating of dried food I could manage just fine. Those things were not made me so uncomfortable. What had despaired me was the new found, and very real, danger we were suddenly in, the constant nagging fear that a Rider may appear out from behind some tree at any given moment, the lack of sleep, and the chilling, sodding (pardon my language) rain that drenched me, it's iciness seeping deeper and deeper into my skin until I felt that it was part of the marrow in my bones.

The poor hobbits, their feet must have been so bitterly cold.

I should not have been with them. If only I had not followed Fali…if only I had thought to desert her at Bag End. I had not been the one who was prying, I had wanted to return to the inn where my family was. My family…

I shook my head, small drops of rain flinging from the one braid I had along my ear. No, it wouldn't help any to think of Father or Mother and how they were faring after we had been gone for days now. I had left the letter, and all I could hope was that the words would be true.

Fali behind me was a vision of optimism, that seemed too sickly sweet at a time like this. "Just think…" She said with a bit of cheer in her voice. "We're only a few minutes away now." She paused to wrench her foot out of the mud, which threatened to hold her boot captive it was so thick. "The inn will seem like a right pleasant place after this, won't it?" She smiled at the hobbits. "Won't it, Sam?" She prompted them.

"Yes, Miss Fali." Sam replied through his chattering teeth.

They were in as low of spirits as I was it seemed.

"The first thing I'm going to do when I get to the inn…" Fali kept on in the pouring rain, "…is get myself an ale. That'll warm the insides right up. That, and find a nice, big fire…pour the puddles out of these boots, dry off…" She was speaking almost wistfully. "Then finally see Mister Gandalf and what he's found."

"Then finally have something to eat." Merry added.

"Do you think they'll be serving a nice roast, or something?" Pippin asked his friend.

I rolled my eyes the slightest bit. I could hardly think of food, despite that it had been a while since I had last ate too. "What about you, Gideon?" Fali asked me. "What do you wish for at the inn?"

"A roof." I replied, honestly. "And four sturdy walls." I added, remembering the Riders.

"The roof would certainly be nice." Fali agreed with me.

"Look." Frodo spook up. "There it is, ahead." I glanced up from my path, and was now able to see a gate, which enclosed an entire town. We ran the rest of the way, now fueled with a new sense of hope. Warmth! Food! Master Gandalf!

There was a brief paused at the gate, for the way was barred this late in the evening, though someone must have been on guard. We were unsure of how to declare ourselves. Frodo had had to leave behind the name of Baggins, and we could not speak much of our matters. We were an odd traveling group, and questions were something we were hoping not to deal with.

After this hesitation Frodo knocked upon the gate, loudly. A plate slid back, revealing a hole in the door, through which a guard must have looked, but this was above even the heads of Fali and I. The plate slammed back, and a second plate was drawn to the side, this time at our eye level. An old and also very wet face peered through. "What do you want?" A gruff voice asked.

"We're heading for the Prancing Pony." Frodo answered.

The plate was retracted and the gate-door opened before us. A wrinkled old man stood in the doorway. "Hobbits!" He observed. "Four hobbits and…what on this earth are you?" The question was directed at Fali and I. Now, however, was not the time to discuss nymphs and dwarfs and the more recent lineage in the Line of Durin.

"Dwarves…mostly." Fali replied, though we were just as much nymph as we were dwarf. Not many others knew of the latter race though, so the answer sufficed.

"What business brings you to Bree?" The gatekeeper asked us.

"We wish to stay at the inn." Frodo went on. "Our business is our own."

"All right young sir, I meant no offence. 'Tis my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful."

"It's no trouble." I excused us as we were ushered inside the town walls. When the way was closed behind us I felt infinitely safer already. The muddy trail was transformed into a cobblestoned road. This we followed, heading off toward the town square, where the inn would be.

I had been to the townships of Men before, in the city of Dale. Bree was far more…hurried. There were still a number of people out this late, most of which did not look like the nicest of characters. Everyone bumped and jostled and shoved among each other to get along their way, which was quite the disruption for those of shorter stature like ourselves. Fali had her hands on the shoulder of Frodo and Sam, guiding them along to avoid wagon wheels rolling over their feet. I had to pull Merry and Pippin backward a few paces by the collars of their shirts to avoid a strange man eating a carrot.

Frodo spotted the sign for the inn, and at last we walked out of the rain and into a dry building. The inside was crowded, and noisy, and the only light came from the great fireplace and the litters of candles bout the place. Oddly, to someone who had grown up in a dwarven kingdom it felt remarkably homey. I was reminded of the pleasant evenings spent in the stone halls, when the sunlight waned and torches were light, and the parties that were thrown in the Great Hall.

"It feels like home in a way, doesn't it?" Fali said beside me, drawing back her wet hood. She smiled to herself as two men laughed over a private joke and took swigs of their drink. "All that is missing is the stone." She sighed. Frodo stepped up to the counter of the inn, which far exceeded his height. "And everything being our size." She added. She waved her hand for the attention of the keeper of the inn and tavern.

"Excuse me?" Frodo spoke, a bit louder in volume to catch the man's attention as well.

The innkeeper had developed a habit of leaning over the counter when he spoke to customers and noticed us sooner than the gatekeeper had. "Good evening, little masters!" He greeted us warmly. "And ma'am." He dipped his head in Fali's direction, noticing her presence. " If you're looking for accommodation we've got some nice, cozy, hobbit-sized rooms available. Mister uh —" He looked down at Frodo, who stood in front of us all.

"Underhill, my name's Underhill." Frodo introduced himself falsely.

"Underhill, yes…" The man was searching the recesses of his memory for such a name.

"Biggest family in the Shire." I said, without much thinking, trying to make his surname more believable.

"Oh yes, of course." The busy innkeeper responded, and I breathed a small sigh of relief.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey. Can you tell him we've arrived?" Frodo asked. I started to scan the busy building, trying to find the wizard.

"Gandalf? Gandalf…?" The man paused in thought again, and I hoped he could recall a real person who had came to the inn. "Oh yes! I remember…elderly chap, big grey beard, pointy hat." We all smiled and nodded. "Not seen him for six months."

At this news we were shocked. Six months? But he had said he would meet us here. He was the one with a pony, surely he would have made it before we did. But a second, more thorough look around the tavern proved that the wizard was not waiting here for us. I suddenly felt quite alone in the tavern, and forgotten. The hobbits huddled closer to Fali and I.

"What do we do now?" They asked. An excellent question too. What were we to do now? We had no plan. Master Gandalf was the one who was supposed to arrive with the plan for us. Our duty had been to get the Ring out of the Shire, and travel to Bree, to this inn. We had finished that and now we had no idea of what we should do next. Frankly, I had been hoping he would be here to relieve Fali and myself of our duty to the hobbits. The adventure was meant to end here in my mind. Now, it had to go on.

"Perhaps he is late." Fali said. "We'll wait a while and see if he arrives. We must have faith that we will come."

From the stories my mother had told me of her own adventures, it sounded as though the Wizard had an awful habit of running late, and not returning for a long time. I could only hope he would come through the door of the inn soon.

Fali ushered us all to an empty table, clearing away discarded tankards herself. "Sit." She said. "I'll see to getting us something to eat." She moved with purpose, sliding in and out between the taller customers. The hobbits and I were wringing out our cloaks, creating little puddles on the floor. Fali returned a few minutes later with a large bowl of stew, and half a dozen smaller tin bowls and spoons under her arm. "It's not a grand feast, but it smells good." She placed it down in the middle of the table. She rummaged through her pocket, fishing out silver coins, and passing them out. "You should all go and get yourselves something to drink. Gideon, I'll have the same as whatever you have."

The hobbits nodded and went to go and fetch some tankards. I looked over a Fali, who was serving herself a bowl of the stew. "We should be careful with the money." I said. "We only have enough for one night at the inn."

"Gandalf said he would come." Fali replied, taking a bite. "All the same…I used my own coins to buy supper."

"What if he doesn't come?" I asked.

"Don't say that." Fali quipped.

"It may happen." I said, checking about the inn again for the pointy hat and grey robes.

"You mustn't say so where the hobbits can hear." Fali reproached me. "I've been keeping optimistic for them over the last few days." She sighed. "They were so scared by the Riders, and now Gandalf is not here yet…I just didn't want them to be afraid. I wanted them to keep going on." Her eyes were cast down. "If Gandalf doesn't come, we'll have to have some money to buy the hobbits weapons…they'll need them."

Her bright smiles and cheery tone suddenly made more sense. I nodded, getting up to buy us both a drink to accompany the meal. "We'll just have to be careful." I walked away, feeling the weight of a journey ahead on my shoulders.

/

"Sam, he'll be here. He'll come." Frodo promised his friend. It was hours later still, and now the tavern was darker, filled with suspicious characters, many of whom were now staring at us with interest, for we had sat at our table long. The stew had been finished and we still waited for the wizard. Merry and Pippin were in brighter spirits now, fishing out the coins from their own pockets to enjoy the ale of the inn. Frodo and Sam remained worrisome. I was stoic, keeping my thoughts to myself and slowly sipping on the last of my drink. Fali was near slumping against me, terribly tired. She had taken the last watch the night prior and had been awake longer than the rest of us. I put my arm around her and pulled her to rest her head against my shoulder, like a pillow.

"Thank you." She mumbled, looking up at me with bleary, sleepy eyes.

Merry returned to the table then, having made a trip to the tavern counter, carrying a large stein of what looked like more ale, or perhaps mead. "Careful with how much you drink Merry." Fali said, with her eyes closed.

"What's that?" Pippin asked, most curious.

"This, my friend, is a pint." Merry answered, a grin on his face.

"It comes in pints?" Pippin replied, followed by "I'm getting one." The he rushed to the counter.

"You've had a whole half already!" Sam tried to stop him in vain.

"One of us should go and get him back." I said. "Fali, could you? He listens to you when you bring on a snappish motherly tone. Fali? Fali?" I noticed she had fallen asleep, head on my shoulder. "Fali." I jostled said shoulder and she was startled awake, raising her head, and inhaling a large breath.

"Is he here?" She asked. "Has Gandalf come?"

"No, not yet." I looked around. "It's late. If he's coming, he's not coming this night. We best see to getting a room."

"That fellow's done nothin' but stare at you since we arrived." Sam nudged Frodo in the ribs and nodded to a shadowed corner of the tavern, where a man in dark cloak sat, leisurely smoking a pipe.

"Has he?" Fali asked, forcing herself to wake to a ready state again.

"We probably capture attention with our height." I tried to think of a simple explanation and hope it was true. "Hobbits do not travel much either."

"Or it could be because I'm the only lady here as a customer." Fali brought up. I didn't care for that answer much. Strange men staring at Fali was added to the list of my worries.

The innkeeper was walking past and Frodo pulled him aside. "Excuse me, that man in the corner, who is he?" He asked.

The man glanced at the stranger in question and hushed his voice. "He's one of them rangers. Dangerous folk they are — wandering the wilds. What his right name is I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Strider."

"Strider." Frodo muttered quietly.

"Strider?" I asked.

"Curious name." Fali responded. We had never heard of anyone going by such a name before. Rangers I did know something of from the books in the Erebor libraries. They were men of the wild, the Dunedain, people of the Northern kingdom. Beyond that, I knew very little of them. I dared to stare at the man again, and for a mere second, as he lit up his pipe again, I swore our gaze met mine dead on, and I flinched, staring into the emptiness of my tankard.

Frodo closed his eyes and for a moment I thought he would fall asleep sitting there like that. I was about to suggest once more, and more firmly, that we acquire a room, and the first proper beds we would sleep on in days, when I heard the most alarming word from the mouth of Pippin. "Baggins!"

How dare he say it so cheerfully, when he should not be speaking it at all!

Everyone was suddenly snapping out of their tired reverie's, even Frodo, who looked the most worried. Had we not warned Merry and Pippin to be careful of what they said to others? The drink must have loosened his tongue.

"Sure I know a Baggins. He's over there, Frodo Baggins. He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side and my third cousin twice removed on his father's side, if you follow me." Mahal, would his story stop?

Frodo and Fali both shot up from their seats, both very awake and aware right now, and rushing over to Pippin, not too inconspicuously. Pippin kept blabbering on.

"Pippin!" Frodo pulled on his sleeve.

"Frodo!" Pippin replied.

"Pippin come and sit back down!" Fali hissed.

"What?"

"Now, Pippin!"

In the confusion Frodo slipped on someone's boot and fell back into the floor. That's when the oddest, and eve

n more alarming thing happened. There was a small flash of gold from the Ring, which soared up out of Frodo's hands. It fell back down, Frodo stretched out his hand to catch it, and the Ring fell upon his finger. One second Frodo was there on the floor, and then he wasn't.

The crowd around us gasped. Fali's eyes went round and the remaining hobbits were dumbfounded.

"Where did he go?" Pippin asked.

"Frodo?" Fali began searching. "Look for him." She whispered lowly to us.

But after rummaging through every corner and crowd and ducking under every table and chair we could not find our friend. "He has to be here." I said. "The Ring only makes him invisible." I groaned. "He should not have put it on, this is turning quite bad."

"He didn't put it on, it fell upon his finger." Fali corrected me. "Come to think of it, have you ever seen anything like that happen before? If I tried to do that with an ordinary ring it wouldn't work."

"Gandalf said that the Ring was…alive almost."

"That Strider is gone." Sam came up to us. "Have you found Frodo yet?"

"No, but we're about to." Fali rose from checking under the last table. "Come on, we have to search the rooms, check any room that has light under the doorway or whispered voices inside."

There were two large halls, one which was taken up by the hobbits and the other by Fali and I.

"The Ring is alive, you were saying?" Fali whispered, opening a door, but finding naught but a single lit candle. She had taken her sword from her belt, and I had followed her lead.

"Yes, almost." I nodded, speaking quietly. "According to what the wizard said, part of the Dar Lord's soul is in it. It's alive…but not fully alive. Not yet."

There was suddenly a great uproar in the other hall, finishing with a ""Let him go! Or I'll have you Longshanks!"

"Was that Sam?" I asked, but Fali pushed her way past me and ran to their aid.

I had no choice but to follow her. Surprisingly, there did not appear to be any fight happening when we arrived. That did not stop Fali from pushing past the others to Frodo, turning her sword over expertly in her hand, and pointed it to the heart of the stranger in the dark cloak. "Unhand him!" She ordered.

Strider was more surprised than concerned. His hood was drawn back now, and he did not look as frightening as before. Most of his coloring was darker, from days in the sun, and deeply colored hair, but his eyes were a fairly bright blue.

"This here is a very brave one." He spoke in Frodo's direction.

"It's alright Fali." Frodo calmed her.

Fali softened her stance in response, swordpoint still at Strider's chest. "Milady, if you would lower your blade."

She dropped it from his chest and stepped back, going to Frodo's side and inquiring to if he was alright. "Come." Strider said, gathering his supplies. "You will not be staying at the inn tonight. This is where there saw Frodo."

"Who saw him?" I asked.

"The Riders."

/

I had not liked following Strider out of the inn, and across the road to an apartment above a shop. Before he opened the door, I quite honestly believed he was going to shove us all in and kill us. But the apartment was not empty or dark like I thought it would be. Ten minutes later, the hobbits and I were sleeping in a bed (Frodo was too shook up to sleep just then), and Fali cuddled up on a boot bench in a pile of cloaks.

I was nervous to sleep at first, seeing as Strider had taken up watch. His gaze was fixed out the window still when he said suddenly "Sleep, Master Gideon."

"You know my name?" I asked. "How?"

"I have met with your friend, the Grey Wizard."

"Gandalf?"

"The same."

It was a good enough response for my exhausted head right then. I fell asleep for a few heavenly hours, dreaming of nothing for my head was too heavy.

And then awoke to nightmarish shrieks from the Riders. Everyone woke up in their respective beds, apart from Frodo who had not slept yet.

"What are they?" Frodo asked, keeping away from the window.

"They were once Men, 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." I shuddered, feeling a terrible chill in my spine.

"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."

/

'Strider' is referring to a moment in the Tolkien appendices, when Gandalf requests that he try to hunt for the creature Gollum to see if they can find more information about the Ring.