Warrior

In the flickering light and shadows of the fire in the chamber I felt like someone was watching me. And honestly who wouldn’t? I was obviously a woman, alone, in a tavern at the Prancing Pony. I was used to stares. Stares from the humans, stares from the elves, and stares from the dwarves. I was a walking circus show. It helped a little that I always hid my face beneath my cloak like I was doing now.

I kept my eyes on my mug of beer as I took a rather large unladylike gulp. I grimaced at the foul taste but it was enough to do the trick. A man in a cloak slid in next to me but I paid him no attention. In fact I could have cared less at the point in my long life.

“Took you long enough.” I grumbled as I took another sip before putting it down and pushing it away.

There was a small chuckle next to me that held no resentment at my tone. “There was some rather urgent business I needed to attend too.”

“Trying to make finding rooms sound like an adventure there Strider?” I grinned at him as he grinned back.

“Oh you know me Vanadessë, always looking for some new excitement. Oh wait no.” He looked at me oddly. “That sounds more like you.”

“The only adventure I seem to be having is trying to find the bottom of that wretched mug. That liquid is vile. How can you possible drink it?” I asked scrunching up my nose in disgust.

His chuckle made me smile as I continued to look around the dark tavern. My elvish eyes were able to see clearly among the darkened shadows. A man was passed out drunk at his table. A woman was letting herself be felt up by the man who’s lap she sat upon and then there was a group of men who were looking in my direction with lecherous sneers. It was funny because they were only looking at me because they were drunk and I just looked like any other pretty girl in a tavern but the truth was I was only half human. The other half was part Elf. I was an abomination amongst both group of people. To the humans I was perceived as thinking that I was “Better than them.” To the Elves I was perceived as being lower than them. It was why for the past 2,000 years of my life I was always on the move, never stopping in one place for too long. I was a boring and rather lonely journey but occasionally I made friends with some who didn’t care what I was. Strider for example was a Ranger of the North and I was a Ranger of the South. I honestly never really ever travelled this far North. Not in the past thousand years or so. After the fall of the Evil Dark Lord I had no reason to be here. My family was long dead, both mother and fathers side.

“Do you have an idea why we are here?” I asked starting to get bored. Gandalf, and old friend of mine, had sent word to me of his needing my assistance. I had ran into Strider on the way to the Prancing and we had talked all the way here. Apparently he had gotten the same message.

He shook his head just as the door to the Inn was flung open. The sound of the rain outside seemed to fill the room before the door closed once more. I saw the tops of heads walking up to the Inn Keeper. What were little kids doing in an Inn? I glanced at Strider with my eyebrow raised. He merely shrugged and continue to watch the 4 people that just graced us with their presence.
“Excuse me.”

“Good evening, little masters. If you're seeking accommodation, we've got some nice, cozy Hobbit sized rooms available, Mr...ah...” The Inner Keeper asked waiting for a reply. Hobbits? This far out of the Shire? How odd..

“Underhill. The names Underhill.” I snorted at how of a liar this Hobbit was.

“Underhill? Hmmmm.” Said the Inn Keeper keeping his thoughts to himself. Even he knew and that man wasn’t the most intelligent.

“We're friends of Gandalf the Grey...can you tell him we've arrived?” My ears perked up at the mention of my friend. They know Gandalf? Strider asked me what had happened and I told him they knew Gandalf and were asking for him. Strider frowned in return as I continued to listen closely.

“Gandalf...Gandalf...Oh...” Recognition hit him. “Oh yes! I remember...elderly chap...big grey beard...pointy hat?” The dark haired Hobbit nods with relief...Butterbur shakes his head. “Not seen him for six months.”

All four turned pale with worry as the chubby one looked to the dark haired one. “What do we do now?”

I turned away and I went back to swirling my beer around the mug when I felt the small signs of a headache coming on but this one was different. My right temple felt like something stabbed through it and I hissed in pain and shock. Strider looked at me but I could look at the 4 people who were now sitting a mere 30 feet from us. As the one dark haired one got closer to me the pain intensified. What on Middle Earth was going on? Strider was staring at them as well causing the bigger one to puff out his chest a big. Like a big defending its home. I smiled through the pain. So these Hobbits must be the mission I have been sent on. Cute little hairy Shire folk who kept to themselves who needed our help.

The noisy, smokey Inn is dimly lit, chiefly from a blazing log fire...and crowded with a mixture of big folk, local hobbits, and a couple of dwarfs. The four Hobbits were sitting at a table against the wall clearly trying to remain Quiet and inconspicuous. The bigger one can't help himself he keeps casting nervous glances around. His eyes fell on mine a few times and he took a deep breath and gulped. I was always told my appearance was off settling because my eyes were a hard emerald green with gold surrounding the iris. I had an intense stare that could melt steel apparently.

“Sam, he'll be here. He'll come.” The dark haired one said trying to calm down his friend who was now nervously glancing our way every few minutes. One of the other hobbits came over with a rather large mug of beer causing the other one to get jealous and dash off for one himself. If memory served me well, Hobbits could drink almost as much as dwarves, which was oddly scary since they were both such little things.

A couple of swarthy men were leaning against the bar and glancing at the Hobbit before then quickly looking away.

“Those two have done nothing but stare at you since we've arrived.” Sam said tensely looking at us and nodding our way. I chuckled beneath my hood. Strider was staring intently at the two as he smoked from his long curved stemmed pipe also peering out from beneath his travel stained cowl with gleaming eyes.

The dark haired one caught me looking and he quickly looked away suddenly even more frightened. What was he up to that made him scare so easily? I saw no weapons and I doubted they even knew how to use them anyways.

“Think they’re up to something?” I asked Strider quietly as the one hobbit beckoned for Butterbur to come over.

“Oh, most definitely.” He muttered back with the pipe still between his teeth.

“Excuse me, those two in the corner, who are they?”

The Inn Keeper looked up to see us watching them so he bent forward and quickly whispered. I had to stop myself from shaking my head. I’m an Elf, he knows this. Whisper won’t help unless your miles away. “He's one of them Rangers, so is she I believe; 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. As for the woman, she’s an She-Elf who goes by Vanya or Vanadessë.”

When he said She-Elf I thought the bigger Hobbit was going to die of glee. He wouldn’t stop looking at me then and I shifted uncomfortably. “Strider.”

“Yes Vanadessë?”

“I feel like this is going to be a long night.”

“That it will be my old friend. That it will.” He replied keeping his eye on the dark haired one who was now fiddling with something in his pocket. He was watching us closely as he muttered our names. Like a chant almost. He seemed to grasp tightly onto whatever was in his pocket causing the pain to flare up in my head.

It quickly hit me what was going on. Its been over 2,000 years but it finally hit me. The Ring. There had been talk amongst the villages of strange folk running around on black horses making god awful screeches. It couldn’t be though. He was dead. The dark lord was dead!

I quickly grabbed Striders hand for support. He glanced at me concerned. “Strider. That Hobbit is carrying something very important that mustn’t fall into the wrong hands. I know the mission now!” I hissed.
He seemed lost and I didn’t want to say it out loud in case anyone was listening so I pointed at his ring on his finger. Then I held up one finger. Then pointed back at the ring. He looked at me like I had lost my mind but then I saw it begin to dawn on him. His color seemed to fade a shade or two as he stared at me.

“It can’t me.” He whispered.

I rubbed my head as I started to hear the evil language run through my head that was chanting to the Hobbit. It was how it got people to do what the ring wanted.

“Well Strider, we’re about to find out.” I gulped as I saw the dark haired hobbit quickly stand up.

“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.” One of the hobbits was explaining this to the group of men who had been sizing Frodo up. I knew they were trying to see if there was anything valuable for them to steal.

Frodo grabs Pippin's sleeve, spilling his beer. “Pippin!”

“Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin pushed Frodo away and he stumbled backwards, and fell onto the floor. At that instant, the Inn goes silent and all the attention turns to Frodo. I watched in utter amazement as the Ring soured into the air. Strider sat up straighter as he went into full on lethal mode. It was time we stepped in. I jumped up and quickly ran for where the boy was laying. Strider was right in front of me. The ring started to descend in agonizing slow motion we watched as it seemed to hang in the air for a split second...then crashes down onto his out stretched finger. There was a sharp intake of breath...followed by total silence. And in that instance I knew we only had a matter of time before THEY came. We needed to move. And fast. Because even know I could feel them approaching.

Frodo had vanished into thin air with the One Ring of Power.