The Dame of Dúnedain

A Visit To Bree

It was raining in Bree. Though, to the locals that wasn't much of a surprise. Two strangers sat in the corner of  the loud and obnoxious tavern. They both had long dark brown hair, pale faces and piercing blue eyes. One of them had pointing facial hair, it was easy to make out that he was a man. And the one with the clean, soft skin was a woman. 

The woman's hair was much wavier than the man's and they looked much alike. Like they were related. They spoke in whispers. Some people in the tavern were still staring at the hooded woman who had just walked in right before. 

And from fear of people hearing them, they spoke in a different language, one that no locals in Bree could ever dream to understand. But you could tell from its elegance that it was an elvish language. The man had a pipe in his mouth, simply biting down on it.

(Sindarin is an elvish language. Since you obviously can not read Sindarin, I'm simply going to put it in italics. If a different language is spoken, I will make that clear. Though it will mostly be Sindarin)

"Are they close?" The man asked, his eyes not moving a second away from the door as the woman sat down by his side.

The woman didn't answer, she just waited and finally watched as four hobbits entered the tavern, soaking wet. These two strangers were patient, they watched for about half an hour. The hobbits got drinks, two of them seemed much less-serious and got up to get drinks more frequently. The other two remained silent until the more obese one leant over and pointed at the stranger in the corner, whispering something to his hobbit friend who had dark hair.

"That is Frodo, he carries the ring, brother," The woman spoke to the man. She had a lighter tone in her voice than the man did. A kinder tone.

They didn't move their gaze since their hoods were covering their eyes anyways. They watched as Frodo stopped the bartender and pointed at the strangers, asking who they were. The bartender pressed his lips together and leaned down towards the table, "They're a couple of them rangers, dangerous folk they are. Wandering the wilds. The woman is new, but the man is 'round here often. His goes by Strider."

The woman's eyes travel down underneath the hobbits' table, watching as Frodo fiddled with the ring. It pulled both her and her brother in, just the look of it.

All of the sudden a loud voice rang throughout the tavern. One of Frodo's friends who was at the counter said quite loudly: "Baggins! Sure, I know a Baggins... He's right over there," the hobbit said, pointing to Frodo. "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."

Frodo looked panicked, and instantly got up and ran to his friend, grabbing him. His friend must've instinctively shoved him back, causing Frodo to land on his back and the ring to go up into the air. Causing a scene. Strider took the pipe out of his mouth and sat up straight, as did the woman. The Inn went silent, all attention going towards Frodo.

The woman watched carefully, standing up straighter as the ring crashed down onto Frodo's outstretched finger and suddenly he vanished. The whole Inn gasped and Strider and the woman stood up. Ready for action.

"Be kind, brother," Strider's sister warned as they watched Frodo appear across the tavern from where he first was. Strider marched across the tavern and grabbed the hobbit by the shoulder, dragging him to the wall and pinning him against it. 

Strider spoke deeply, his sister stood behind him, watching the tavern in case anyone saw them. "You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. Underhill." Strider used Frodo's fake name.

Then he took Frodo and threw him up the stairs. His sister went up last, looking out for people as she backed up the stairs. Soon all three of them were in a room upstairs, Frodo was in the corner. "What do you want?" He asked the two strangers.

Strider's sister took her hood off, revealing her face as he went and pinched out the candles, "A little more caution from you... that is no trinket you carry."

Frodo was quick to respond, "I carry nothing."

Strider spoke with annoyance in his voice, "Indeed, we can usually avoid being seen if we wish, but to disappear entirely... that is a rare gift." He referred to him and his sister, taking off his hood.

Frodo looked fearful, yet curious. "Who are you?" Frodo glanced to his sister, and then back to Strider.

"Are you frightened?" Strider asked simply, slowly walking closer.

Frodo thought long and hard about his answer, coming out with a simple "Yes."

"Not nearly frightened enough. We know what hunts you," Strider informed before a noise came from the corridor.

Strider had gotten his sword out and his sister had gotten a custom pair of knives out in time for the door to be slammed open, revealing three hobbits. The one in the front had his fists out, one had a chair in his hands and the other had a candlestick. All ready to fight. "Let him go or I'll have you, Longshanks!" The slightly obese one in the front called out.

Strider and his sister both had a slight smile play on their lips from the brave hobbits. They both sheathed their weapons and stood up straight, "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won't save you..." 

Strider's sister went to the window and looked out cautiously, turning to her brother and speaking in a language that confused all four hobbits, "We must leave, now."

Strider nodded at his sister, turning to Frodo, "You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They're coming."

Strider and his sister took the four hobbits to their room in the Inn across the street. Strider's sister soon told the hobbits to call her Huntress, simply because she was skilled with a bow and made up the name on the spot. She could hear her brother laugh as they walked up the stairs. 

She was introduced to Frodo's friends, Sam, Merry and Pippin before they fell asleep. Though Frodo stayed awake and watched out the window in between Strider and Huntress. Strider kept his sword close to him as they heard the loud screeches of the monsters that had been chasing Frodo and the hobbits.

The other hobbits were awoken with a scare from the noise, sitting up in bed. "What are they?" Frodo asked.

Strider let his sister speak, since she was always better at telling stories than he was. "They were once men." She paused, watching out the window as the creatures kept screeching from rage. "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 and now they are slaves to his will."

As soon as they watched the Nazgul leave the Inn and leave Bree on their black as night horses, Strider and his sister turned towards the hobbits, their faces being lit with candle light. "They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead." Huntress spoke, returning back to keep an eye out the windows.

Strider finished the answer to Frodo's question, or at least, the question that was in his head, "At all times they feel the presence of the ring... drawn to the power of the one.. they will never stop hunting you."