Once we reach the other side of the Brandywine River we hop onto the grass and hesitate. I look to the dark sky as I hear quiet thunder.

"Which way?" Peregrin asks.

They look around.

"This way," young Frodo says and turns right, walking down the dim but wide road.

After traveling through the forest a ways in silence, questions burning in everyone's heads (I can tell), rain drops begin falling down at our feet, making our shoes slosh around in the mud. I pull the hood of my jacket up and cover my t-shirt, wrapping both sides together and crossing my arms.

The rest of the hobbits have cloaks in which they too bring their hoods up to cover their heads.

We pick up the pace.

"What are we going to do when we get to Bree?" Merry asks.

"Head for the inn," Frodo says. "The Prancing Pony. Gandalf is going to meet us there."

The rain gets a bit heavier so we run and luckily don't get too soaked before we make it to a small settlement.

The old wooden gates to the town are closed, almost disguised by the wooden wall that surrounds the village. Frodo steps up to the door and knocks.

The top window is opened and this man seems to be a normal size unlike these small hobbits. But once he cannot see them he closes it and opens a lower one to make a view on the Shire...lings.

"What do you want?" the old hooded man asks, his beak-like nose catching the light from his oil lamp.

"We're heading for the Prancing Pony," little Frodo answers over the sound of the rain.

He backs away after closing the small window and opens the door. He holds his lantern up high to look at us. "Hobbits... Four hobbits," he says in surprise. "What's more, out of the Shire by your talk. What business brings you to Bree?"

"We wish to stay at the inn. Our business is our own," Frodo answers.

He nods slightly. "Alright, young sir. I meant no offense." He stands aside to let us through. "It's my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful."

Into a small village we walk... Yup this indeed looks like the medieval era. A small poor town with people outdoors wearing hooded cloaks to cover them from the rain, making their way to different areas during the night.

Men with beards and long hair, little, to no women around at night.

The whole village is rather big for these little friends, the place being the size of its residents and I.

We pass weathered homes made of wood and stone bricks, fenced in livestock around the muddy road, and some shrubs until we get to the larger part of the village.

We find the inn with a wooden swinging sign that reads "The Prancing Pony" engraved on it.

The five of us push open the door and enter the quite merry area with men and women drinking, talking, and visiting about many things inside. I see only one other hobbit in here and he's rather old. But most are humans (at least that's what they look like). And rugged people at that. Peasants and warriors of different weight and size with dirty, mead soaked beards and worn clothes, dirt covered skin and drunken steps.

The hobbits walk up to the counter and talk to the man who runs the place, him having to lean over to see them.

I pull off my hood and some of the people do a double take, probably thinking I was a man, because of my attire and hooded hair and face. I get a few curious looks but ignore them as I look around. Now that I am here it is time I focus on my quest. I glance down at the mark on my palm and think.

After the hobbits are finished talking and move to a table in the room, I walk up to the counter.

"Yes, my lady, what can I do you for?" the rounded ginger man asks while cleaning the inside of a mug.

"I apologize I am not from here but... I don't suppose any elves have passed through here, have they?"

"Elves? Oh we don't get any visitors of that sort out here. Elves don't travel far from their borders."

I press my lips in. "Is there anyone you know who knows anything about elves at all?"

He thinks. "There aren't many folk around here who have had dealings with them.  Rare they are... But if anyone would know anything it would probably be that fellow over there at the back," he gestures with his head.

I look to the dark corner of the merry inn to see a man, hooded so I cannot see his face. He sits in a chair by an empty table, a shadowy part of the room, smoking a pipe. He seems almost as still as a statue. He wears black trousers and grey boots, a long leather coat as well. He looks towards the tables, the direction that my previous companions sit.

"Thank you," I say to the innkeeper and excuse myself. I begin to make my way to the back of the room. I pass a drunk woman who laughs behind me and then scoot past a man carrying a cheese wheel, smelling the alcohol on his breath.

I approach the statue but he doesn't look up until I sit in the seat on the other side of the table.

I keep a business look on my face, seeing as he might be one of those types that don't really like other people or dealing with strangers. But I need answers.

"I hear you know a thing or two about elves," I start in plain tone.

He still doesn't speak. And he hasn't even looked at me yet.

I purse my lips and lift my brows as I wait for him to answer. I clear my throat.

Slowly his head turns towards me. I can only see a sparkle of eyes under his hood and a rugged, very thin beard on his chin. He takes out the pipe from his mouth and blows the smoke into the air.

I breathe. "Would you be capable of identifying what this Elvish rune means?" I pull the sleeve of my jacket back from my hand and show him my palm.

He hesitates and straightens up, putting his feet back on the floor rather than just his heels as his ankles were crossed. He leans over the small table to look at my hand.

My expression doesn't change.

He pulls off his hood revealing long, thin black hair about shoulder length, maybe shorter, and piercing ice blue eyes. He looks about twenty-nine. I close my mouth in a nervous way when he looks up at me. "Usually a woman starts with 'good day'," he says plainly with a hint of a smirk. He has a gentle voice that matches his eyes, unlike the rest of him that seems rugged.

"Well it isn't. And I am not a liar."

He twitches his eyebrows up and looks back down at my hand. "How did you get this?"

"A friend gave it to me."

He seems to frown. Then he puts his pipe on the table and takes my hand in his, searching the wound further. He thinks. "I have only seen this rune one other time."

I wait for him to explain.

He pulls back and leans against his chair. I take my hand back and cover it with my sleeve.

He thinks. "It is not a short journey."

"That doesn't matter to me. Where do I need to go?"

He looks back into my eyes, fearlessly.

But I look away a bit awkwardly from his gaze, the blood reaching my cheeks.

"It was far east that I came by this rune... past the Misty Mountains. I know the area. But it will take a long time. Perhaps months."

"Well that's fine I have time. There's nothing left of my home anyway and no way to get back to it. There's nothing else I can do. This is important to me. What's the best way to get there? How do I get there?"

"By foot... or perhaps horseback. There are not a lot of rides you can pay for to get past the mountains. Foot would be your only option there."

"Thank you." I look off to the distance. I stare at the flames in the fireplace across the room, thinking. But my palms become sweaty when I feel someone watching me. My eyes flash over to him and catch him staring curiously. But he stops once we lock eyes. "What?" I ask defensively.

"Sorry, my lady. It's just... not every day I see a woman in trousers. Are you an explorer perhaps? Disguised as a man from the lands of Dunland?"

"Are you suggesting I look like a man?" I lift a brow and keep away an amused grin.

He almost chuckles. "No of course not. I was going to say that it is a pathetic disguise if you were trying to."

"Well where I come from it's normal for girls to wear trousers."

"And where would that be, my lady?"

"Um..." I look down. "Well it's far... south? Oh skip it."

He gives me a look before putting his pipe back in his mouth.

"Well..." I look away awkwardly. "I should go." I stand up and begin to walk from the table but a pain comes to my head and my balance is swayed. I had forgotten. That night I handed Ry the only thing edible I could find but I hadn't eaten in two days. Now it's been three... plus however many I spent lying unconscious.

I stumble once.

"My lady?" the man's voice asks behind me.

"I'm fine," I lie rudely. But when I try to walk my head feels as heavy as a brick and I stumble backwards, my weight just pulling my body back to fall on the ground. But I feel a hand grasp me from behind before I get that far. My head hits flesh and an arm takes me back upwards to my feet. I pull my head off his chest and stand up straight, a bit embarrassed if I am to be honest.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine. I'm alright. Thanks, uh for catching me—but I'm fine. I think I am just a bit... famished."

"Well then you should probably eat," he comments like that should be obvious."

I snicker. "A scholar you are," I reply with attitude, standing in front of him. "Perhaps I would have thought so if I wasn't in a land with no vegetation or wildlife for two days and now with nothing to pay for it."

He doesn't reply to my snarky statement, only narrows his eyes and comes to a decision. "You should sit, my lady."

I blink a couple of times then back into the wooden seat behind me, his hand securing me there at my shoulder. I look up to see a mild concern in his eye. He clearly hides care with ruggedness and stays out of the way too much. But how could I judge? I can't.

He almost snickers. "How long has it been since you have eaten?"

"Um... Not sure... Well counting what I know at least three... maybe four..."

"Hours?"

"Days."

He seems confused.

"Um yeah I was... lost for a few days no big deal. I'm just... sort of on my own now."

He shakes his head in disappointment but hides sympathy. "Stay here," he commands and I do so. He leaves past the people as I sit there.

I suppose to him I seem like a child... though I am only a few years younger than he seems to be. But Ryohnin always told me that I looked younger than I am. Maybe he thinks I am still a teenager or something.

He is only gone for a short while before returning.

It is quiet and he seems in deep thought after he sits down, fiddling with his pipe. "What is your name?" he asks.

"Vilora. They call me Vil... or they used to."

He bows his head politely. "Lady Vil."

I smirk at the formality. No one on earth was ever that polite. But I look back up with my arms crossed on the table. "And what do they call you?"

"They around here call me Strider."

"An explorer yourself no doubt?"

"A ranger," he slightly agrees.

A woman comes to us bringing a tray of food. From the looks of it, bread, a slice of cheese, and a cooked... uh salmon? No... I have no idea. And two drinks.

She sets them down and he gestures for the plate to go to me. One drink in front of me and the other for him.

Bloody—... He just bought me food?

She leaves after he pays her a few silver coins, picking up the drink and taking a sip of it.

I hesitate looking at the food before me, feeling almost a bit guilty. I look up at him with surprise on my face. "Thank you... But I cannot possibly—"

"Please eat," he smirks as he refills his pipe, knowing already that I am stubborn.

I sigh and look back at the unknown fish, picking up a rusty metal fork with two prongs. I use the knife to cut out a chunk of flesh from the fish's side and put it in my mouth. This might be medieval but the stuff I was used to eating was hardly edible. This tastes utterly delicious and satisfies my hunger so. The tender meat in my mouth makes my eyes widen and I take a bite of bread and cheese.

I mean I don't have that bad of manners but I guess I'm no princess—or 'lady' when eating. I use silver wear and chew with my mouth closed but I'm sure the women here eat like... I don't know what, just too polite I suppose.

Once I finish I pick up the drink he got for me, realizing that the woman had also brought a flask of water. I take a small drink of the mug and it tastes kind of sweet... I only know the taste of beer and liquor. But I have never tasted ale and I am guessing that's what this is. I drink it though. Not as fast as the speed in which I ate but fast enough.

"So where are you from?" I ask to break the silence, sort of owing him. I look at him and he looks at me, now pulled out of thought. I realize he had been eyeing the young hobbit named Frodo as he sits with his three friends at a table.

"Around. As I said I am a ranger, a traveler so I do not have a permanent home."

"I don't either... mine was overrun."

"By what, my lady?"

"...Demons. I spent the years fleeing and now all my friends and family are dead."

He thinks on that... "I too have lost my family. It is a hard life in these times indeed."

I look down, thinking about what had happened... and about Ry, my best friend. I look at my hand again and remember why I am here.

But the fact that he said he was a ranger made me more nervous. They are trained to know how the human thinks, little observations that can tell so much about a person. I try to act normal.

"You are not from these lands are you, Lady Vil?"

"...Nope. I uh... am not. That reminds me... which way is east? Th-that is... I don't have a compass on me..."

He smiles humorously then points behind him.

"Great thanks..." I take another sip of ale.

He lets out a silent breath of a chuckle. "So if you are not from Middle Earth then where is it you are from?" he asks, sounding polite but also just curious.

"Oh... if I told you, you would not believe me," I breathe.

We watch the fire at the back of the room.

"...Try me."

I snicker. "Are you always so prying?" I tease, avoiding giving an answer. He'd think I'm mad.

"I was taught that making conversation is polite actually," he almost smirks.

"It is... I just do not open up to most people," I sound half polite to him, the other half still business sounding. But I owe him that polite half for what he has done. "But you have asked enough questions. What about you, mysterious ranger? What is your current quest?"

"You would not believe me if I told you..." he mutters, smoking again.

"I doubt you would surprise me."

"It seems I already have," he says, speaking of how shocked I was when he bought me food.

"That is just because I have been traveling alone for far too long."

"And how long have you been traveling with halflings?"

"Pardon?"

He looks at me. "The hobbits."

"Oh... Today. Why do you ask?"

He doesn't answer...

And I do not say another word when he looks towards the room with an expression of fear and surprise.

I had heard it too while I was talking: Muttering voices that got a bit louder.

I look to see men around the bar suddenly exclaiming about something. Some of them are being knocked over unwillingly as if invisible hands are pushing them. The three hobbits stand up. Where is Frodo? They look around in a panic as the voices get louder. I look to my left to see Strider has disappeared. I grab the flask of water and strap it my belt.

And when I look back I see the young hobbit has once again reappeared. But he is lying on the ground among the men, panting in a frightened way.

What the bloody hell just happened?

Strider is there by him and grabs his tiny shoulder, pulling him to the back of the inn. Samwise and the other two see this and bicker about what to do. They panic and Sam runs to the back. Merry and Peregrin (Pippin they call him for short) pick up weapons and follow him... Uh yeah by that I mean they pick up a stool and a candlestick.

I do not know what Strider has to do with this quest of the little four hobbits and what exactly is going on but I sneak up to the back room and press an ear against the wall. After I hear Sam threaten him loudly, I hear a sword being put away and a quiet voice from Strider saying, "You have a stout heart, little hobbit. But that will not save you."

I press my ear closer and frown.

"You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo," he continues. His voice comes to a whisper. "They are coming."

Did he say 'wizard'?

I move away quickly before they come out and act like I was not listening. But when they move from the room Strider comes to my table to grab his pipe. I look up and make a face, something on my mind I want to say. But before I can speak he reaches into his coat and pulls out a piece of parchment. Carefully unwrapping it, I see that it is a map. "This might be useful to you," he says, "if you really are not from Middle Earth. I can do without it."

He points to where I need to be. "Now the road east would be the fastest but since you are traveling alone I would advise heading south. Make for the Gap of Rohan. Then head northeast from there." He points me my exact route.

I nod and fold the map up, sliding it in my pocket.

"Good luck," are his last words before leaving with the hobbits.

I don't get a chance to respond or thank him...

I breathe and stand up, watching him leave with the hobbits in haste. I walk over to the counter, passing a drunken man with a coin purse just too easily hanging from his belt, snatching the purse and facing the innkeeper. "Can I have a room?"

He looks up from his conversation. "Of course, m' lady. That's two pieces."

I take out two coins and toss them to him after he hands me a rusty key, walking behind and running up the steps. I pass rooms in the hall, one of which the door is open, but I look away when I hear what they are doing. Oh classy people.

Anyway at the end of the hall is where my room is and it is small but it will do just fine. Better than most places I have slept. I shut the door behind me and take off my boots and jacket, placing them on the chest at the foot of the small bed. The only light in the room is the small candle on the side table. I set my supplies and weapons on that table and climb into the creaky bed, forgetting how tired I am. I blow out the candle and stare out at the moonlit village, the clouds letting it shine through a little after the rain stops. My eyelids become heavy and I fall into a deep slumber.

That is until I awaken by screaming. I frown and look up. It is a distant sound but also familiar. Thinking that I am still in London I sit up... letting the thoughts come back and let me notice the room. Nope not in London.

I look left out the window from where the sound came from... then it hits me. I watch as nine riders in black race on their horses through the streets. They are still in pursuit of the hobbits it seems. And I wonder to myself where the little four friends are. I suppose that's what Strider meant when he said they were coming. But it's not my concern. And they have Strider to help them now. He'll know what to do, better than I would.

I need to focus on my own quest... which requires sleep. So I lie back down in hope to get some, forgetting the black riders, as there would be no way to help anyway. I have no idea what those things are and if I tried to help I'd probably get my soul sucked out like dementors or something.

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