We threw ourselves at the outsticking tree roots at the side of the road. I quickly made ferns grow to cover us further as we pressed ourselves into the dirt under and between the roots. When the hooves got closer, I stopped, though I wasn't quite comfortable with the results.
The hooves halted next to us and a weighty pair of boots landed on the ground above us with a heavy thud. An armoured hand rested on a root above our heads. We dared not even breathe. The rider sniffed the air as if he was trying to smell us.
My companion's faces contorted in despair as bugs crawled over our shoulders trying to flee from the rider. I myself had a sort of system shutdown out of fear and only had access to core functions like 'do not breathe loudly' and 'sit still'. The one I tried hardest to keep up was 'do not run away screaming'.
I looked over at Frodo and saw that he'd taken out the Ring. He seemed to be in some sort of trance as he got ready to slip it on. I put my hand on his to try and stop him. He snapped out of the trance when Merry hurled the sack of mushrooms across the road.
The rider gave another bloodcurdling scream and flew to the direction in which the mushrooms landed at an alarming speed.
"What was that?" Merry asked.
"That, my friend, is the embodiment of let's get the fuck away from here," I explained while pushing Frodo up and darting into the trees with as little sound as possible.
Luckily, my Hobbit companions were somewhat clever at moving silently too. If this was the Dwarves, the dark -whatever it was- would have smelled us when it started sniffing, probably before. And would surely catch us by the racket we would be making.
When night had fallen, and we were still hastily but carefully running through the woods, Merry and Pippin finally dared ask questions.
"What is going on?" asked Pippin. Merry walked towards Frodo, who was looking very queasy. "The black rider was looking for something. Or someone... Frodo?"
"Get down!" I whispered softly yet demandingly. The silhouette of the rider stuck out in the moonlight on top of the slope. We were flat on the ground.
When it had left, Frodo answered Pippin's question. "I have to leave the Shire. Sam, Dawn and I must get to Bree."
Merry and Pippin realised what kind of trouble we were in. "Right, Bucklebury ferry. Follow me." We followed Merry to a river with a ferry that was tied at the pier. We broke cover and sprinted to it. Another black rider burst out of the trees behind us.
"There's another one! Frodo this way!"
The rider let out a horrible scream and set out in pursuit.
I jumped on the ferry and started on the ropes. Sam, Merry and Pippin jumped on next and busied themselves on the ropes as well. Frodo was still on the wharf and the rider had company.
I jumped off the ferry and ran out to Frodo. I grabbed him and quickly turned my heel back to the ferry again. I jumped just in time. The four riders shrieked and their horses reared up in anger on the end of the wharf. Luckily, the gap was too large to jump for a horse. Even a big, scary, glowy-eyed piece of work that I could probably walk under without ducking.
"Where is the nearest crossing?" I asked, slightly winded.
"Brandywine bridge. Twenty miles."
"That would give us about five hours. I'll take it. Come on, there's the gate of Bree," I helped the still wide-eyed Hobbits off the ferry and led the way to the gate.
I knocked. An old gatekeeper opened the upper window. I sighed, annoyed at the fact that I had the awkward height between the windows. "Down here sir." The gatekeeper closed the window and opened the one that came to my chest, so I bent down a little.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"We are headed for the Prancing Pony."
The man held out his lantern and bathed us in a yellow light. "Four Hobbits and an Elf, what business brings you to Bree?"
"We wish to stay at the inn, our business is our own," I explained without giving too much away.
He closed the window and to our relief, opened the gate. "Alright, my lady, I meant no offense." He eyed us suspiciously in the lantern light. "'Tis Old Harry's job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful."
I nodded and he let us pass. "Stay close," I bid the Hobbits as I weaved my way through the narrow streets. I had no desire to ever come back here, but at least those who would be able recognise me here were either long dead or too old to remember my face.
We hurried into the Prancing Pony and I quickly scanned the place to see if Gandalf was here yet. He wasn't. Not that I could see anyway.
I went to the reception. "Excuse me sir," Frodo tried to catch the inn-keeper's attention. "Ah welcome miss and misters. If you're looking for accommodation, we've got some nice, cosy rooms available. Mr uh..."
"Underhill," I said before Frodo could answer with his real name.
"Underhill, hmm?"
"Yes, two l's. We're friends of Gandalf the Grey. Can you tell him we've arrived?"
"Gandalf, Gandalf... oh... Oh, yes, I remember. Elderly chap, big grey beard, pointy hat."
"That's him," I said hopefully.
"Not seen him in six months."
"What do we do now?" Sam whispered worriedly.
"We'll take the room. Thank you," I plopped down a small bag of gold and took the key. "Try and keep a low profile." I pleaded the Hobbits as I took a table that could seat six. I fully trusted Sam and Frodo to do what I told them. Merry and Pippin though, not so much.
Sam kept glancing around nervously. "Sam, he'll be here. He'll come," Frodo assured him.
While we were waiting, I ordered some food and an ale for all of us. Merry plonked down a whole pint. Pippin went off to get one next.
"You've got a whole half already!" retorted Sam as he watched Pippin walk to the bar unsteadily.
Folk had been eyeing us now and then, but a hooded man alone in a dark corner stood out to me. He had been staring at us all evening. Sam noticed too. I gestured to a server. "That man in the corner, do you know who he is?"
"He's one of them Rangers; they're dangerous folk, they are, wandering the wilds. What his right name is, I never heard, but round here he's known as Strider."
"Thanks."
Strider... Legolas had scoured the world to find him. He'd never found more than a month-old name in a register of him though. I never heard if he eventually did find him.
He looked at me now. I could swear I had seen him before; I just couldn't connect a name to the face. He seemed to at least have some idea who I was too. That wouldn't be unnerving in any Elvish or Dwarvish settlement, heck, in the Shire I was known as a disturber of the peace. But in Bree? I haven't been here in a very long time and most folk here couldn't read. It's hard to imagine they'd be interested in Dwarven politics half a world away.
"Baggins? Sure, I know a Baggins. He's over there..." Pippin's slurred voice sounded from the bar. Frodo got up and briskly walked to him. "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 grabbed Pippin's sleeve, spilling his beer.
"Pippin!"
"Steady on, Frodo!"
Pippin pushed Frodo away. He stumbled backwards and fell to
the floor. The inn went silent and all the attention turned to Frodo. He reached out to catch the ring in mid-air, but it slipped onto his finger and he vanished.
Talk about keeping a low profile.
YOU ARE READING
Dusk (LotR Fanfic)
Fanfiction(Sequel to Dawn.) Dawn, who, by now has settled down and gotten married, surprise visits her old friend Bilbo on his 111th birthday, only to discover that she never settled down at all, just became hungry for more adventure. So an adventure she has...
