Lord of the Rings 1. Chapter 1: The Mysterious Girl

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything belonging to the LotR Trilogy, Peter Jackson does. I only own my OC's that I will occasionally add or remove.**

**Author's Note: Just to let you know, this is my very first fan fiction that I've ever wrote and had this posted on another site, so that's why you are just now seeing me place it here. I am also going to give this story a major overhaul, cause to tell the truth, this being my first story and all, my writing sucked. That and to make this story a bit more realistic, I'm changing the main character from a guy to a girl. So, now that that's out of the way, on with the story...!**

**PS: This story is dedicated to my Grandfather who died just before I even started this story back in 2008, a few days before Christmas, at the age of 75.**

**Okay now, no more sad faces, its time for the story to **_**really**_** begin! I present to you the new, and improved...**

**THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE WOLF RIDER!**

**Formerly known as: The Second Ranger Tenth Walker**

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Chapter 1: Arrival

_The forest is quite tonight~_ the ranger thought to himself, blue eyes shifting from tree to bush, _It's too quiet, not even the nocturnal insects are chirping._

The scuff of a boot on the gravel covered soil brought his focus from his thoughts and to his companion, who was standing a few feet to his left and two steps back. It was hard to pick out the man's features in the dark and the hood of his cloak kept the light of the moon from showing anything but the lower half of his face, giving him a menacing appearance. Even so he trusted this man with his life.

"It's so still," the man's gruff voice whispered, "This silence, it's not natural. I don't like it Aragorn, not one bit."

Aragorn's lips pulled themselves into a smile as he turned back to scanning the forest for the cause of the sudden silence. "This silence does disturb me greatly," he murmured back, "But even so, we must move on. Fletcher," the other ranger turned toward him, "We will tread more carefully from here on out, keep your eyes and your ears peeled for anything that doesn't belong."

Fletcher nodded his head in acknowledgement, gripping his staff tighter as the pair continued on their routine patrol. A few minutes later they were nearing the clearing that marked the turning point of their route, when Fletcher suddenly froze with a started grunt.

"There is a chill in the air," the short-statured man muttered in a guarded tone, his eyes slowly scanning the surrounding trees as he continued, "Not only that, it feels thick and heavy I can barely breathe. I feel as though someone is watching me, but no matter where I look, I can't see them," he hissed, turning his head toward Aragorn. "Something is coming, can't you feel it?"

"Yes, I can," Aragorn calmly replied as he slowly moved his hand to the pommel of his sword and turned to speak to his fellow ranger once more.

He was interrupted by a brilliant flare of light that exploded from the clearing not but a ten paces in front of them. It was so bright it was nearly blinding, forcing them to shield their eyes and turn away from the glare. A thunderous boom, sounding like a thousand drums being pounded at the same time, shook the ground, causing both men to stumble. As the last vibrations faded away, so did the light, and the forest became silent and dark once more.

Swiftly blinking the spots from his eyes, Aragorn drew his sword and held it before him, eyes guarded as he waited for Fletcher to recover himself.

"By the Valar, what was that?" the ranger exclaimed, his eyes finally clear and his staff once more held securely in his hands.

"I am unsure, but what ever it was it came from the clearing ahead." Aragorn said softly before he glanced over his shoulder to Fletcher, "We must be silent and we must be quick, let's go."

They moved swiftly, but silently, through the small stretch of trees and slowed to a stop and kneeled down behind the foliage that surrounded the small clearing. It looked like a ballista had thrown a massive stone into the center of the grassy field. A large crater now filled the clearing in its entirety and was deep enough for three men to stand on each other shoulders; the air was filled with dust and the smell of scorched earth. In the center of the depression, two dark shapes laid side by side, unmoving.

Slowly and cautiously the ranger's stepped from the brush surrounding the crater's rim and carefully made their way down the charred rocky slope. They had gone but a few feet before a low animalistic growl brought them to a halt. The sound was coming from one of the shapes in the center of the bowl of earth and as they moved closer toward them, the growling increased in intensity. When they got close enough to make out the shapes, both men froze in shock and horror at the sight before them.

In the middle of the crater lay the body of a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, and hunched over her was the biggest dog either man had ever seen. It's muscles rippled and twitched beneath fur blacker than night, glowing green eyes glared up at them like twin beacons, and it's bared teeth gleamed in the moonlight, sharp and ready to tear into them if they so much as took another step closer.

Aragorn flicked his eyes over both animal and human, frowning whenever his eyes focused on a wound, took a few more steps closer, only pausing once more when the dog hunched itself lower over the girl's body, it's eyes daring him to come closer.

"Be careful Aragorn!" Fletcher hissed, watching as his comrade seemed to ignore the growling beast and took another two steps.

"It's alright, my friend," Aragorn gently murmured to the agitated animal, "I just want to cheek both yours and her wounds. I'm not here to hurt either of you." He then softly spoke to it in _Sindarin_.

The dog stopped growling and watched, wary, as he continued to move toward it and the girl. Aragorn kneeled at the girl's side and offered his hand for the dog to sniff. Once the animal determined he was trustworthy enough, it licked his hand once and Aragorn scratched it behind the ears before he turned his attention to the girl.

Aragorn leaned closer to the girl, the dog whining beside him, and felt her neck for a pulse and sighed in relief when he found one. Her pulse was weak, but at least she was alive. He then examined her from head to foot.

The girl's clothes were strange to say the least. A white long sleeved shirt made of what he thought felt like wool clung to her upper body like a glove. Instead of wearing a skirt, her legs were encased in pants of a strange blue material that he'd never seen before and on her feet were what he could only describe as boots. By the look of her, Aragorn estimated her age to be around nineteen summers old. She was short, about the height of his chest when standing, he guessed, and though her frame was thin, she had the muscle tone of one who worked outdoors. The only thing that contested that thought though was that her skin was as fair and smooth as a noblewoman's.

Once done with taking in her appearance, he then moved on to her injuries, only to grimace at what he saw. The girl's left arm was broken and hanging at an angle not natural from her body, _Dislocated shoulder~ _Aragorn thought, and her forearm appeared to be broken, and then there was a large burn that covered the left side of her face, including her eye.

Aragorn then tenderly lifted the girl's left eyelid and gasped at what stared back at him. The eye was completely white and unseeing; there was no iris or pupil, just white. He then checked her other eye and found it to be fine, much to his relief, at least the girl wouldn't be blind when she woke up.

Aragorn's eyes then caught on something that was hidden partially underneath the girl's body. Gently lifting her up slightly, he managed to pull the object out from under her and then laid her back down. It was a crossbow and a well made and kept one he observed. It was meticulously cared for; the wood gleamed in the moonlight and after testing the string, Aragorn found it to be strong and taut.

As he was making these observations, the girl's eyelids flickered and a low moan escaped her lips.

Hearing the girl moan, the dog whimpered louder and tried to turn to face her, but as it dragged its hind legs on the ground it gave a yelp of pain and collapsed onto it's stomach. Seeing this Fletcher swiftly approached and fell beside the unconscious dog and scanned the animal for any injuries. _Poor beast, both it's hind legs are broken~ _he said to himself, patting it's head gently.

Fletcher then glanced at the girl that Aragorn was kneeling beside and observed her battered and bruised body.

"What are we going to do, Aragorn?" he asked softly.

"We shall take them back to camp with us. The girl is in desperate need of medical attention and from what has just happened to the dog it appears it does to. I'll carry her, you get him," Aragorn ordered.

As he said this, Aragorn gently lifted the injured girl up and situated her until he had a better hold and then started his way up and out of the crater.

Fletcher grunted and lifted the dog over his shoulders, nearly losing his footing from the dog's weight.

"Why am I always...the one...who gets stuck...carrying...the heavy ones," He grunted and panted as he struggled to keep up with Aragorn's pace.

The girl in his arms murmured something, but before Aragorn could make out what she was saying, she fell silent.

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**Well, there you have it. That's the first chapter, hope you like it. Please read and review.**


	2. Chapter 2: Awakening

**The disclaimer is at the beginning of the first chapter and it's still the same.**

The Wolf Rider

Chapter 2: Awakening

_Flames. Burning flames filled her vision. She could hear them screaming from inside the blaze, calling out to her for help and forgiveness. She tried to run toward the voices, but her legs wouldn't move, all she could do was watch as her life was turned to ashes. The flames mocked her, laughing at her inability to save those who they held in their grasp._

"_I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" she cried out despairingly, her vision blurred by her tears._

_The Flames crackling laughter only increased as the flames rose higher._

"_Mom! Dad! Noooo!"_

_**CRAaackK, BOOOOoom!**_

"_ARROOOOOooo!"_

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"Nooooo!"

The girl's scream rang throughout the encampment, startling many a ranger from his slumber and others to reach for their weapons. Aragorn, in the middle of a discussion with his second in command Halbarad, jerked his head in the direction of his tent before he excused himself and quickly jogged toward the canvas shelter.

The girl held her knees to her chest as she slowly rocked back and forth, tears streaming down her cheeks as her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs. Wide, fear filled blue eyes glanced around the small, dark place she had awoken in. She had expected to find herself in a hospital bed after what had happened to her, only to find she wasn't. It appeared to be a tent of some kind; it wasn't too small or too large, just the right height for a person to stand up fully and wide enough to fit four people comfortably. Though it was hard to tell if her guess was even close as she was having a hard time seeing from her left eye.

Before she could continue with her inspection of her new surroundings and of herself, the sound of quickly approaching footsteps filled her ears. The sudden opening of the tent flaps cause early dawn light to come spilling in, nearly blinding her apparently only good eye. Allowing her eye to adjust itself to the light, she peered up at the silhouette of a longhaired, rugged man wearing what looked like a blanket draped over his form. The man stepped into the tent and closed one of the flaps behind him, shielding her from the bright light and bringing his features into focus.

Her face turned pale and she suddenly felt chilled. She recognized this man; she knew his face, having seen it many times on the screen of her TV. She felt lightheaded, like she was about to faint.

"A-Aragorn...?" was all she was able to gasp out, her voice scratchy and raspy from disuse, before everything went dark, again.

The surprise he felt from the girl saying his name was pushed to the back of his mind as her body started falling backwards. Startled, Aragorn rushed to her side, catching her in a firm grip before he gently laid her back down on his bedroll and pulled his blanket up to tuck under hear chin. Only once he was done with tucking her in did the ranger think about what she'd just said.

_How is it that this girl knows my name, my _**real **_name? I have never before met her and she has remained unconscious for the past fortnight, nor is she related to any in this camp so she couldn't have learned it from the others. So how?_~ he wondered to himself.

He was broken from his thoughts by the sounds of a dog barking excitedly and hurried footsteps. The tent flap was once again pulled aside, allowing a large black furred dog, which was then followed by a short-statured ranger, entrance. The animal quickly scurried-limped over to the girl, its tail frantically waving back and forth, and settled itself on its belly beside her slumbering form. Though it's hind legs were still bandaged and splinted, the dog had healed enough so that it was able to walk around the encampment, mostly with Fletcher as the ranger made his rounds.

"I take it that since that was her scream just now that she has returned to the living?" Fletcher asked with a smile of amusement as he stepped up to Aragorn's side.

Aragorn smiled in return and nodded, his eyes remaining focused on the girl as he responded. "Yes she has, but I'm afraid that my sudden appearance was to much for her." He decided not to mention her knowing his name just yet; he wanted to hear her story before he began jumping to conclusions. When she was awake again that is.

The dog, which they found to be named 'Max', as was stated on the small name plat on his leather collar, whimpered as he licked the girl's cheek and nudged her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open slowly and a low moan escaped her dry lips. She dazed eye scanned the interior of the tent once more before she seemed to remember that she wasn't alone. She lifted her head and turned toward the two men who knelt beside her, one she recognized and the other unfamiliar. With wide eyes, she tried to push herself up, but eventually gave up with a grunt of exertion and lay back down.

From her prone position she was able to examine both their features and clothing critically. Both were rugged in appearance, the shorter and stockier one more so than 'Aragorn', they wore similar uniforms and cloaks, like those of the rangers from her favorite movie trilogy. She was starting to feel uneasy again.

_No, there's no way, it just isn't possible!~_ she ranted internally, _It only happens in fan fiction, not in real life! There is absolutely no feasible way that I'm laying in Aragorn's tent, with said man kneeling beside me, somewhere in Middle Earth!~ _It was then that she looked down at herself and, ignoring her complaining muscles, pulled herself up into a seated position. _And what am I wearing? _

She was dressed in a white, long sleeved cotton shirt that was two-sizes-too-big; the sleeves engulfed her hands and the bottom of the shirt reached the middle of her thighs. On her legs she wore a pair of baggy dark green trousers, though they appeared to be a pair smaller than either man could wear, they still had to be bound around her waist by a short length of rope. After she finished inspecting her clothes she then took stock of her body. Gingerly rolling up her left sleeve revealed her left arm wrapped from the wrist to elbow in stiff bandages. A quick peak down the wide collar of her shirt showed her that her chest was also wrapped as well, though with softer linens. Reaching up with her right hand to the left side of her face, she felt some more wrappings around her head and over her eye.

_Well, that explains why I can't see out of that eye~_ She thought to herself.

"What is your name my lady?"

Startled by his voice, she looked over and focused on 'Aragorn', who appeared to be waiting for her to answer.

"My-my," she tried to clear her throat, only to have a coughing fit. The man she still didn't have a name for quickly grabbed his water pouch and offered it to her, advising her in a rough but gentle voice to drink it slowly. Nodding her thanks, she took a few tiny swallows and sighed as the cool liquid soothed her dry throat before handing it back to him. She then looked back at 'Aragorn' whose face expressed that of one that was waiting patiently for her to continue.

"My name is Samantha, Samantha Lewis," she said softly, looking down at her now clasped hands resting in her lap. Samantha then glanced up at the two rangers and asked, "Where exactly am I?"

"You are in the camp of the Dunedain, in the land of Arnor, Samantha Lewis. My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and this is Fletcher, son of Morgan. My companion and I found you and your dog while we were on patrol a fortnight ago."

Samantha openly gaped in shock before she slowly shook her head.

"That. That can't be," the poor girl stuttered, "Middle. Middle Earth doesn't exist. It's not real. I... I have to be dreaming. Yeah, that has to be it. Right?"

Aragorn furrowed his brow as he frowned at her in confusion. "I can assure you, Lady Samantha, that this is very real, not a dream."

"No, you. You're wrong. It's just a story! Fake, made up by Tolkein. It's just a story!" Samantha exclaimed hysterically, her hands gripping each other so tight that her knuckles were white.

Aragorn and the other ranger, Fletcher, glanced at one another worriedly and then back at Samantha with concern.

"Where is it that you hail from, lass?" Fletcher inquired.

Samantha turned her eye toward the shorter ranger to see him giving her an encouraging and gentle smile. It was then that she realized that he had pulled his hood down, letting her see his face for the first time. His hair was a sandy blond, which he had pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes were a light green that sparkled with humor and kindness, and he sported a small scruffy beard on his chin. She found that just by seeing his face, she was able to calm herself enough to gather her wits and think clearly.

"I'm from a place called the United States of America, ever hear of it?" She asked hopefully, when they responded with confused expressions and negative headshakes she sighed, "I guess not. So I really am in Middle Earth, huh?"

"Yes, Lady Samantha, you are," Aragorn replied with a sympathetic nod, "I'm sorry if those are not the words you were hoping to hear."

Samantha's throat tightened and her eyes burned with fresh tears as she slowly bowed her head. She pulled her knees to her chest, a position similar to the one that Aragorn had found her in when he first saw her awake, and wrapped her arms around her legs. Just as the first tears began to fall, a cold nose pressed itself against her right cheek and a long wet tongue liked away the tiny salty drops. Surprised, she turned her head to the right and there sitting beside her, whimpering, was her best friend in the whole world; his tale slowly wagging back and forth.

"Oh, Max," she sobbed; throwing her arms around the big dog and buried her face in the fur of his neck.

Max whined and whimpered, the actions of his human confusing him. Knowing she was sad and hurting, he did what he always did, cheer her up. He tilted his head down and snuffled his muzzle into her long red hair, his tongue licking her forehead and his breath tickling her ear. Samantha slowly stopped her sobbing and, though her tears still fell, she started to giggle. Hearing his human making a normal happy sound sent his tail into a whirlwind of happiness.

Samantha pulled herself back from Max; her lips twitching upward as she tried to contain her giggles, and for a few minutes had little success. As soon as she got her emotions under control again, she turned to Aragorn and stared him in the eye.

He knew what she was getting ready to ask, he just didn't know if she was ready to know the answer.

"Aragorn," Samantha began, "I know there is something wrong with my left eye, you wouldn't have bandaged it up if there wasn't. What I wanted to know is, why can't I see anything, I can't even see the light through the bandages, what's happened to it?"

Aragorn looked at her with sympathy and sorrow before he responded to her question.

"I'm sorry Samantha," he said her name without the 'Lady' before it, she swallowed, "but I'm afraid that what has given you those burns on your face, has also affected your optic nerves, nearly severing then completely." He stopped to examine her face, noticing her paling complexion he continued on, "The damage is too severe for me or any of our other healers to fix. You will no longer have the ability of sight from that eye ever again."

Tears formed in Samantha's eye and she forced herself to speak around the rock in her throat. "S-so, I'm going to be half blind? For the rest of my life?"

Aragorn nodded his head, "I'm afraid so, Lady Samantha."

"To lose ones sight is a sad thing, Samantha," said Fletcher reminding them that he was there as well, his green eyes seemingly staring straight into her soul, "But to lose ones life is a tragedy. Yes, you may have lost the ability to see in one eye and yes it's all right for you to feel sad about that. But you have to remember that what has taken that away from you, hasn't taken your life, and here you are before us alive and well. So tell me, which is worse: to have lost your eye or to have lost your life?"

Samantha wiped away her tears from her eye, thinking on the words Fletcher had just said to her, when her mind remembered something she had almost forgotten.

"I think I've already lost both," she stated in a quivering voice.

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**GASP! Oh no, it's my first cliffhanger! Well, that's the new chapter 2 and I have to say I'm very proud of how it turned out. If you want to find out what exactly happened to her and hear her story, it will all be in the next chapter. So, please review!**

**I would like to thank:**

**Faye50free: For being one of the first people to review my new/redone story.**

**AllAmericanGirl: For also being one of the first people to review my new/redone story.**

**UchihaAkia: I thank you for being the first and only person to write a review for this story, when it was only a single chapter back in 2009.**

**Again I thank you for your reviews and I ask that you keep reviewing, I like to know what people think of my writing.**

**Till my next chapter!**

**Dune**


	3. Chapter 3: A Tragic Tale

**Disclaimer: Okay, for those who might not have noticed before, I don't own anything from the LotR franchise. I only own Samantha, Max, Fletcher, and any other characters that you aren't familiar with are probably my OC's as well.**

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The Wolf Rider

Chapter 3: A Tragic Tale

"I think I've already lost both."

When neither ranger made a move to comment on what she said, Samantha glanced up to find both men staring at her with a multitude of emotion displayed on their faces; sadness, horror, confusion, concern, and many others she couldn't name. The three of them remained staring at each other in silence for a few long moments, Max feeling bored and not liking being ignored plopped himself across his human's legs and sighed heavily through his nose. The sound seemed to break the tension that was filling the interior of the tent, prompting Aragorn to speak up first.

"What do you mean by that, Lady Samantha?" he asked her, frowning, "You appear very alive to me."

Samantha let out a humorless chuckle, closed her eye and shook her head. "You'll probably think I've lost my mind, but the last thing I remember before waking up here was a bolt of lightning, followed by excruciating pain and then... nothing. Then I was in your tent."

While Fletcher continued to gaze at her with undisguised horror, Aragorn stared at her with a thoughtful glimmer in his eye, and scratched his chin.

"That would explain why your burns are bad enough to scar, as well as why your eye is so severely damaged. It also explains the means of your arrival on the night we found you." He said grimly.

Samantha didn't know what she should be feeling right about now, but at the moment, she felt numb and tried. The suddenness of a large calloused hand landing on her right shoulder caused her to jump and jerk her head to the right. Fletcher had shifted closer until he was now kneeling at her side, staring at her with compassion filled eyes.

"I know I have nothing to do with what has happened to you lass, but I'm sorry all the same," the ranger said, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze.

With fresh tears in her eyes and too emotional to speak, Samantha nodded jerkily to him and sniffed. Fletcher slowly lifted his other hand and gently brushed away her tears, before he gave her shoulder one more squeeze and then left the tent. Samantha stared after him for a few moments, rubbing her shoulder where his hand had rested; she could still feel his strong but gentle grip. The clearing of a throat jolted her from he thoughts.

"While it is still early and you have just woken up," Aragorn said in amusement, "You still need some more rest."

Samantha opened her mouth to protest, only to let out a yawn, suddenly feeling very tired.

"I guess I could use some more sleep," she mumbled as she lowered herself back down onto the impossibly comfortable bedroll. Max shifted himself off her legs and settled beside her with another, but content, sigh.

Aragorn moved closer to her side, covered her with the blanket and tucked it under her chin.

"I will be checking your injuries when you awake and, if you are feeling up to it, I would like to give you a tour of the camp." Aragorn stated with a calming smile, "Not only would it help you in knowing your way around, but it will also be good for your legs, to get them moving again."

Even with her sleep-addled mind, Samantha could tell that it was a statement, not a question; she would be going for a walk when she woke up whether she wanted to or not. Nodding in reluctant agreement, she yawned once more and slowly drifted off to dreamland.

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A few hours later Samantha awoke from her slumber to see a ranger paused in mid step just entering the tent. He waited until she was more aware and focused before he gave her a nod of respect and a kind smile.

"It is good to see you have awakened, my lady," he said in a jovial tone, "I am Gareth, son of Damien, a healer. Lord Aragorn has tasked me in assuring if you have awoken yet from your rest, and seeing as you have I shall take my leave to inform him of your status."

And with a nod of farewell, Gareth took his leave, the tent flaps swinging closed in his wake; as well as a stupefied and half asleep girl, blinking in confusion.

She was still in the same state when Aragorn stepped in a few minutes later. One look at the expression on her face caused him to release a few chuckles of amusement, as well as making Samantha aware of his presence.

"After meeting Gareth for the first time, tends to have a similar effect on most," the amusement thick in his voice as he spoke, "A good man he may be, but a conversationalist he isn't."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out when he left before I even had a chance to say something," Samantha informed him as she shook away her daze.

Aragorn chuckled in agreement.

"Now that you're awake, I would like to check on your wounds and then we shall see to getting you up on your feet." Again it wasn't a suggestion.

Aragorn, after prodding Max to wakefulness and shooing him outside, felt around her shoulder, arm and ribs, and finding them to have healed enough, helped Samantha to her feet. As soon as she moved to take a step, her knees buckled and if it weren't for Aragorn's presence she would have collapsed. He threw her arm around his shoulder and helped her to shakily walk out of the tent. As Samantha stepped outside, leaning on Aragorn, found she was forced to squint from the blinding brightness of the sun at mid-day. Aragorn, noticing her predicament stopped moving to let her eye become adjusted to the light.

"Ruff, Ruff!" Max barked as he scampered to his human's side and nuzzled her hand. Samantha smiled as she scratched his right ear.

"Your dog is very loyal," Aragorn stated, "When you were still unconscious he wouldn't leave your side for more than a few minutes."

"Yeah, Max's always been like that," Samantha smiled fondly as she moved her hand to scratch his left ear, "Ever since we first got him as a puppy, I was always the one he felt he had to protect the most. It's in his blood actually, dogs of his breed are fiercely protective of their masters."

"And what breed is he, if I may ask?" Aragorn inquired, "I've never seen a dog like him before."

"He's a German Shepherd, only he's of the black furred breed," she said as she pats Max on the head. "Shepherd's are mainly trained by and work with our law enforcement."

"Hmm," Aragorn hummed, "Your world sounds like an interesting place. You will have to tell me more about later, however, it's time that you learned your way around the camp."

With that Aragorn took her around the Dunedain camp, pointing things out as they went along and introduced her to some of his officers. Though she was shy at first, with every praise, welcome, and inquiry of her health, Samantha grew to enjoy the attention from each ranger she met. Occasionally though, her legs grew tired and Aragorn would allow her a chance to rest, and with each rest she found she was growing to enjoy the company of the rangers. Eventually Samantha's legs regained most of their strength and she was able to shuffle-walk beside Aragorn on her own.

The sun was just starting to set in the West when he decided to pose the question he had been waiting to ask all afternoon.

"Lady Samantha..." he began only for her to interrupt.

"I am not a 'Lady', Aragorn... well, I am, but... oh you know what I mean!" she grumbled when he began smirking at her, "Just calling me Samantha is fine. Heck I would even settle for Sam, just leave the 'Lady' part out, all right?"

"All right," Aragorn replied chuckling, "Samantha, I would like to hear your tale, about what happened that brought you to our land. Would now be a bad time to ask to for you to tell it?"

Samantha's smile immediately fell and her face paled, but she was able to keep her wits about her and remain calm. Her voice was steady when she replied.

"Yeah," she swallowed, "Yeah, I'm ready to tell it. You have taken care of me for two whole weeks, so you deserve an explanation. But, I have just one request. Can Fletcher be there when I tell it to you? I don't know why, but I just feel calmer when he's around."

Aragorn nodded.

"Of course, Samantha. I will ask Fletcher to bring us something to eat to my tent and then you can tell it to us. Will that be all right?"

She nodded and allowed Aragorn to escort her back to his tent and sat herself down on her bedroll and then waited while Aragorn went in search of Fletcher. Max had, at the time, lain down in a corner and decided to take a nap. A few minutes later, Aragorn returned with the short-statured ranger, a steaming pot of stew held in one hand that smelled delicious and a loaf of freshly baked bread in the other. Aragorn carried with him a full water pouch, three tankards, three wooden bowls and spoons. While Fletcher set the pot down in the middle of the tent, Aragorn handed her a tankard and a spoon. He then filled her tankard with cool spring water and then took a bowl filled with stew from Fletcher and handed it to Samantha as well.

After a few minutes of silence they ate the stew, it tasted as good as it looked, Samantha discovered with glee. When they were finally done, Fletcher decided it was time to break the silence.

"Well lass, I hear that you have quite a tale to tell and I would greatly like to hear it."

Samantha nodded and set her bowl down beside her where Max, now awake, licked it clean.

"Okay," she took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. "It was the beginning of the winter season where I come from. I've been away at College, a school for people my age, away from my parents for three months and I was ready to come back home." Here Aragorn interrupted to ask what a school was and she quickly explained that it was a place of learning. Samantha then continued, "I remember I was feeling excited, because I was going to see my parents and my grandpa after so long." She smiled at the memory.

"My Grandfather was getting old, with Grandma dying six years before and us being the only family he had left, he came to live with us a year ago. But then three days before I was to arrive at home, I was trying to get there a day before Christmas, a holiday we celebrate in the month of December, I was finally... informed of something that had happened while I was away," here Samantha paused, breathing hard as she struggled to reign in her emotions, "I was _finally_ told that my grandfather had died in the hospital, about four days earlier. My parents had waited that long to tell me that he had died!" She started to sob at the memory, both rangers watched on with sympathy in the eyes.

Samantha forced herself to stop her crying before she was ready to continue; "I arrived home two days earlier than I was supposed to, to be with my family for the funeral. I was furious with my parents and barely said a word to them the entire time. I loved my grandfather as much as I loved my parents, and being his only grandchild he always showered me with affection. I was his _Little Sunflower_, that was his nickname for me." Samantha chuckled humorlessly. "We did everything together; he would take me and my friends camping in the mountains behind my house whenever he would visit when I was younger, he taught me every thing he knew about being a woodsman and he even taught me how too shoot his crossbow.

"After the funeral we went to see his lawyer about his will," Samantha choked, and had to force herself to calm down again. She went on, "My grandfather left us all his money, all his belongings, and even his old house. And to me, to me he left his other pride and joy: his oak crossbow. He'd had to make this one after I lost his first one, I was ten ears old when he started teaching me how to shoot it and I lost many things that we kept finding years later," she started to laugh at a memory, "First time I shot the thing, I wasn't expecting the recoil was it startled me so bad that I fell flat on my rear, my grandfather walked up to me and helped me up, he was laughing and smiling, I thought he was laughing at me, but then he pointed at the target twenty yards away and I looked at it, I had miraculously hit it dead center, right on the bulls eye!" Samantha then started sobbing and when Fletcher moved to comfort her, she shook her head and bade him to sit back down, "I'm okay," she said and then she started her story once more, "Then that night, that dark, stormy night, the one night in my life that I now wish I could take back more than anything; I finally lost it. I was frustrated and angry with myself for not being at home sooner to see him one last time. I was already angry with my parents for not telling me and only got angrier the more they tried to comfort or apologize to me. I started yelling and screaming at them, saying that since they didn't care enough to let me know he had died that they obviously didn't care enough about me and that I was leaving. They kept pleading that they hadn't known how to tell me and I just didn't want to listen to there words anymore.

"I ran to my bedroom, grabbed my crossbow, called Max to me and left out the back door of my house, shouting back to them that I wished it was them that had died, not my Grandfather. And just as I finished that sentence a bolt of lightning came out of nowhere struck the house, setting it ablaze and my parents still inside." Unable to hold the tears back anymore, Samantha finally let them fall.

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed her heart out, her body consumed with guilt, sorrow, and despair. Neither Aragorn nor Fletcher needed to hear more from her to guess what had happened:

She had been forced to watch as her home and the last of her family were burned to ashes.

Fletcher knelt beside the crying girl and pulled her into his arms, murmuring comforting words into her ear as he rubbed circles on her back. Aragorn gazed at Samantha with sad eyes, knowing that she needed to cry and to let the guilt she carried go. Shifting his gaze to Fletcher, he wasn't surprised to see tears forming in the gruff rangers eyes. The man had only recently lost his family a few months ago, so he would be the one to understand what she was now going through.

Samantha, nearly exhausting herself with how hard she had been crying, looked back to Aragorn with dull red rimmed eyes.

"I didn't have a chance to anything to help them. I was struck by another bolt not long after and then I woke up here." She said tiredly.

Aragorn stared at her for a few minutes before he slowly rose to his feet stepped up to her hand placed his hand upon her head.

"You have suffered much for one so young. You feel that you are to blame for their deaths and carry the guilt in your heart," the amount of compassion his voice carried was enough to renew the seemingly never ending streaming tears from her eyes. "At the moment, nothing I say would help you to let go of the guilt, you're not ready for that yet. Know that your heart will one day heal and the guilt will go away, it will just take sometime. If you will excuse me, I need to make my rounds and should you fall asleep before I return, I bid you, Samantha, good night."

Samantha's eyes followed the Ranger's back until it disappeared behind the closing flaps and was swallowed up into the night. Fletcher then gently lowered her back onto her bedroll and stared into her eyes, his own filled with understanding.

"I understand how you feel right now, lass. I too have lost my family and I still carry the guilt of being alive while they're dead. But know this, you aren't alone, you have your dog, who will always be there for you and I can assure you that you'll have me for whenever you have need of me, you have my word as a ranger."

Before Samantha could even get her any words out, Fletcher leaned over and kissed her forehead and then he too left her alone in the tent with her once again sleeping dog. It wasn't long after that she too followed him into the realms of slumber.

* * *

**AAAAAaaaaaaaand that's a wrap! Whew! That was my longest chapter yet, nearly took me half the day to write and fix! But it was worth it.**

**I would like to thank:**

**Fredddio: Yes, there are going to be more chapters. Here's another by the way! Lol! Thank you for the review!**

**UchihaAkia**:** Of course I remembered you, how couldn't I? You were the only one to review this story on this site when I first put up the old chapter 1! I'm glad that you like this story and all of my other one's on the other site. I thank you for reviewing and hope to hear more from you about this and other later chapters.**

**Thanks for reviewing, hope others will follow your example soon! Please people review!**

**Until next time,**

**Dune**


	4. Authors Note

**Author's Note**

I've just added chapter 4 to the story so read it and let me know what you think. This also should, hopefully, be the last Note I will place in this story. So please move onto the next chapter and read.

-Dune


	5. Chapter 4: The Prancing Pony

**AN: Just to let my readers know, this is the real chapter 4. As I stated in the Authors Note, from now on that will be the last one, so the rest of the story continues on like this. This is also going to be the longest chapter I have written so far, hope you like it. Okay, that's it, back to the story...**

**PS: I've decided to make a few changes to this so, if you've already read this once, you might want to look it over again.**

* * *

The Wolf Rider

Chapter 4: The Adventure Begins

Aragorn waited until the flap closed behind Fletcher before he turned to face his fellow ranger and stared him in the eyes.

"Well," he began, "You've heard her story, what are your feelings on it? Your thoughts?"

Fletcher crossed his arms and stared over Aragorn's shoulder, pondering everything they had just heard.

"My thoughts?" he responded with a sigh, "My first thought is that her tale is that of one who is either a little touched in the head, or is very skilled in deceit. Samantha, though, is neither of those. I feel that every word she spoke from her lips is truthful and honest. She is not trying to deceive us."

"Then we are in agreement," Aragorn sighed, relaxing her shoulders, "I too feel that there is truth to her words. The question now is; what are we to do with her?"

"What do you mean, Aragorn?" Fletcher asked brows furrowed.

"If what she said is true, and we know it is, she is not only from a different world she has also lost her home." Aragorn stated grimly, "Even if there was a way to send her back to her world, she won't have anywhere to return to. Her best option now would be to find a place in one of the nearby villages and settle into a new life."

"Yes, that is true," his companion mumbled, "For those who live in our world. She does not, she's from an entirely different one. She knows not our ways, knows not our currency, or of her station in life here. It would be hard for her to adapt."

"Yet it is still an option."

"Aye, that is true," Fletcher reluctantly admitted, before a gleam flickered in his eye. "But it is not our only option to consider."

Aragorn waved for him to continue.

"Another option is that she remains with us," he quickly continued when Aragorn made to interrupt. "Hear me out, my friend. She has stated that she has had some training in surviving in the wilderness and tracking. Not to mention that she feels the most comfortable and safe when we are around. If she stays, we can teach her the skills she would need to survive, about our ways and cultures; and then if she feels like she wants to leave, she will at least be better prepared for whatever she may face."

He was right, and Aragorn knew it. If Samantha were to remain with them, she could then prepare herself for her life in Middle Earth. It was a good option, as was the first, but even so, he didn't want to make the choice for her.

"I agree, but it's not my decision to make, it's Samantha's. I shall ask her in the morning and let her decide on the course she wants to take." Aragorn stated before biding Fletcher good night.

* * *

"So, I'm either to be sent to the nearest village to live or stay here and learn to survive on my own. Those are my two choices?" Samantha asked as she slowly ran her fingers through Max's fur.

"Yes," Aragorn replied kneeling beside her bedroll, staring at her face intently. "While I am perfectly capable of making this decision for you, I wanted you to decide for yourself."

Samantha remained silent for a few moments, absentmindedly scratching her dog's back. The choice she wanted to make was an easy one, but even so she wanted to make sure it was one she could live with. _On one hand, I can go live in a village and keep myself out of the war of the ring entirely. I can live out my life peacefully, maybe even meet a good strong man and settle down and have a family,~ _Samantha thought to herself, _On the other though, I can stay here with someone that I am at least familiar with and who is willing to teach me things. I could become a ranger and I would be fully involved in the war. Living the rest of my life as a housewife doesn't really appeal to me, so I guess I know what I'm going to do._

She turned to face Aragorn and looked steadily in the eye. "I want to stay here. I want to learn how to be a ranger."

"Are you absolutely certain?" he asked, his tone serious. "You will not be allowed to change your mind later on, I want to make that perfectly clear."

"I am sure," she stated firmly.

"If you stayed, would you be willing to risk your life to protect those of the good people of this land against the forces of darkness?"

"Yes."

"You will be giving up the possibility of ever having a family and children. Are you willing to do that?"

"I am."

"Will you swear to leave your old life, your past behind you, and start anew as a Dunedain ranger? As one of us?" Here Aragorn's eyes gained a mischievous gleam.

"I – Yes, yes I will! I swear it!" Samantha stated with conviction.

Aragorn smiled, "Then I, Aragorn son of Arathorn, and captain of the Dunedain rangers welcome you Samantha, to the ranks of the Dunedain."

"Wait, what?" Samantha asked in confused-shock.

"Training will begin once you're fully healed," he stated with a smirk as he turned and made to leave the tent. "I shall return with something to break our fast and then we'll discuss your schedule."

"Wait, you mean I'm... I really am..." stuttered Samantha, struggling to wrap her mind around what had just happened.

"We will discuss everything when I return," Aragorn chuckled as he stepped out of the tent, before he paused and turned to look at her from over his shoulder, "Before I go, I have one question to ask you."

"Uh, okay?" she asked quizzically, "What would you like to know?"

Aragorn turned to face her fully. "When you first regain consciousness and saw me, you called me by my name, my real name, not 'Strider'. Then, when I informed you that you were in Middle earth, you grew agitated, stating that it wasn't a real place, only a story. What did you mean by that?"

At first, Samantha hesitated, before she let out a long sigh, "I guess I might as well tell you now, though I was hoping to do it later." She lifted her head to look him in the eyes as she spoke. "In my land there is a series of three books, written by a man named, J.R.R. Tolkien, that are all about Middle Earth and it's lands. These books follow a series of events that lead up to the end of the war," she paused when Aragorn let out a startled hiss and then continued, "Yes, I know how the war ends. I know all the people that the story follows, including you; that's how I know your name. And from what I can tell from where we are right now, I think I've arrived sometime before the story begins."

"So you know everything that shall happen now and the wars end?" Aragorn questioned with a frown. When she nodded, he asked, "Will you tell me the outcome of the war?"

Samantha immediately shook her head negatively.

"No, I don't think I should. Telling you might change the story in some way, and that can't happen. I won't change history."

"Good," Samantha jumped when she felt Aragorn's hands suddenly gripping her shoulders tightly, his face only inches from hers. "That's what I was hoping you would say. I want you to promise me, Samantha. I want you to promise that you will only share your knowledge with those who you have complete trust in, and only when it is necessary. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, I promise," she said, nodding her head frantically.

Immediately, Aragorn's fingers relaxed their grip and he sighed in relief. He looked back up into her eyes and smiled.

"I'm glad to hear that," he patted her shoulder and stood up to his feet, "I'll be right back with breakfast. Thank you for telling me the truth about your knowledge."

"You're welcome!" Samantha called after him as he stepped out of the tent, before she turned her attention to the German shepherd laying beside her, "Well, Max, it looks like we're going to be here for a while, huh?"

Max only looked up at her, cocked his head to the side and panted; his tongue lolling out of his mouth. She let out a sigh, pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

_I only hope that I made the right choice.~ _She thought to herself.

* * *

Over the course of the next six months, Samantha trained to become a Dunedain ranger. Her skill with the crossbow was not to be disputed – as she proved by hitting three targets dead center in a row – as were her tracking skills, though they did need some improvement. Fletcher taught her how to wield and fight with a staff and short sword, while Aragorn took to teaching her the history of his people and the Elven language. Her mind absorbed everything like a sponge, and her body grew lithe and toned.

One day, Aragorn introduced her to a giant of a man, a ranger named Ramyr Edain, their horse keeper. For two weeks, Ramyr taught Samantha how to ride horseback, to clean and care for said animal, and how to fight while riding. Once he felt she had completed her training, he gifted her with her own horse, a beautiful and gentle three-year-old Chestnut filly, named Gwilith. She and Max took to each other like bread and butter.

Once she was deemed ready, Samantha was allowed to accompany both Aragorn and Fletcher as they went out on patrol or on missions. It was during these outings that she met and killed her first goblin, a most horrifying experience for her (though it seemed to have amused Fletcher greatly, he always had fun telling the story at the campfire now and then). It was on one such mission that, as Samantha was tracking a band of bandits, she was gifted the name, Tracker by Fletcher, as she had tracked the bandits for three days straight and hadn't lost the trail once. Somehow, the tale about her achievement was spread throughout the surrounding villages and towns, so where ever she went, that's what she was called. Luckily for her the name was gender-neutral, for Samantha had taken to wearing slightly baggy clothing, an eye-patch, and a mask over her lower face – she didn't think anyone would approve or believe that a female could fight as good as any male, so she decided to disguise herself.

It wasn't until nearly a full year passed, when a certain wizard appeared in the camp needing to speak with Aragorn, that Samantha's journey was to begin.

* * *

After having his brief discussion with his ranger friend, Gandalf was ready to leave. He followed as Aragorn led him through the camp towards there stables, chatting and reminiscing along the way, as they approached Gandalf looked over to where Samantha was busy brushing down Gwilith, much to the young filly's enjoyment. Noticing her presence for the first time, Gandalf made his way over and stopped just behind her. She didn't even realize he was there until he spoke, his voice gentle and jovial.

"You have a beautiful steed, my dear." Startled, Samantha jumped and spun around, nearly tripping over a bucket of feed in the process. Quickly recovering herself, she looked up to see who had spoken and froze once she caught sight of who it was.

"I am sorry, child," Gandalf chuckled, a twinkle in his eye, "I did not mean to startle you so. Please, allow me to introduce myself, I am-"

"Gandalf the Grey!" Samantha exclaimed, only to suddenly flush in embarrassment and duck her head in apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just... You, uh..."

Gandalf chuckled once more before he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, child, it was I who startled you first," he said, the twinkle in his eye seemed to grow, becoming a gleam. "Well, since you clearly know who I am, my dear girl, I believe I now have the pleasure of meeting the young, Tracker." He smiled as he leaned in closer and spoke in a softer tone, "Or should I call you, Samantha Lewis."

"How did-" she began but was stopped when he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"I am a wizard, my dear Samantha, and though I may look old, I still have all of my wits," said Gandalf in amusement. He then leaned in a bit closer and whispered in her ear, "In all seriousness though, it was our Aragorn that had informed me about you."

Hearing said man chuckle, Samantha turned and sent him a mock look of accusation. She turned back to the smiling wizard, stepped back and bowed.

"It was an honor to meet you, Gandalf the Grey, and I hope to see you again soon," she said respectfully.

"Please, my dear," chuckled Gandalf, "Just Gandalf is fine. And yes, it was a pleasure to meet you as well, though I think we will meet again sooner than you think." The last part he said in a whisper.

He turned from her and made his way back to Aragorn, his parting words confusing her. She shrugged and went back to brushing her horse and began pondering about the wizard's presence in the camp. She quickly finished a few minutes later and after giving Gwilith her feed, made her way back to her tent – she had been given her own when she had fully healed. She was just opening the flaps when Aragorn walked up.

"Samantha, gather your gear and ready your horse," said Aragorn firmly. "We leave in the morning, at dawn."

"Really?" she asked, "Right now?"

"Yes," he said with a nod, "We've just been given a mission."

"Is Fletcher coming with us?"

"No, I was told just to bring you."

Samantha froze and looked at Aragorn questioningly. "Just me? Who gave us this mission?"

"Gandalf did," he replied, "He seems to know something about you, but like usual he hasn't told me anything. All he said was, was that you will have a special purpose to play in the coming events and that I was to take you with me."

With that, Aragorn bid her good night and walked off to prepare for the trip, leaving a stunned Samantha staring after his retreating back.

_Oh, gosh! It's starting! It's really starting!~ _she screamed to herself_._

* * *

The next morning, Aragorn gently shook Samantha from her sleep exactly at the time he had indicated, dawn. She quickly roused herself from her blankets and swiftly pulled on her traveling gear and fastened her cloak. Then she grabbed her pack, throwing it over her shoulders, slung her grandfather's crossbow over her shoulder, buckled on her sword belt and hefted her staff in her hand. She strode from her tent, whistling for Max as she stepped through the flaps.

Max, panting happily, trotted to her side. The pair then quickly made their way through the camp to the stables, where Aragorn was waiting with the horses.

When she arrived, Samantha slung her pack over Gwilith's back and secured it tightly, before she pulled herself up into her saddle. Turning to Aragorn, she nodded to indicate her readiness and they set off at a quick walk, with Max keeping pace with them easily.

They traveled for the whole day before they set up camp around an hour after sunset. While Aragorn quickly got a small smokeless fire going, Samantha unpacked their bedrolls and picketed the horses for the night. Once she was done, she joined Aragorn by the fire for a meal of bread and jerky.

"If we keep up the pace we are going, we should arrive at our destination right on schedule," Aragorn commented.

"Where exactly, _**yawn**_, are we going?" Samantha asked tiredly. "You never told me where Gandalf wanted us to go."

"To the village of Bree," Aragorn said, poking the fire with a stick, "We are to meet him there in three days."

"That's nice," she mumbled, unable to keep her eyes open any longer.

"Yes, it will be. Getting there earlier will give us some time to restock on our supplies and to rest our horses." Said Aragorn as he looked up into the night sky. He then looked back at his companion to find she had fallen asleep, tired out from the full day of riding. He chuckled softly, picked up her blanket and laid it over her slumbering form and took the first watch. He then moved back to his seat and sat down, quietly called Max over and scratched the dog between his ears.

The night wore on and when it became midnight he roused Samantha for her turn. A few hours later, at dawn, Aragorn awoke and after repacking their gear, they set out for Bree once more. Like the day before, they rode from early morning to early evening, same with the third day. At sunset they reached the outskirts of the Village of Bree and approached the gate, entering just as the gates were being closed and locked for the night. They dismounted when they reached the stables beside the _Prancing Pony I_nn and settled their horses inside, paying the stablehand for a few days care. As they made for the Inn, Samantha made sure her mask was securely in place and her hood shadowed her face just right, before following Aragorn inside.

Samantha dropped her gear on her bed in the room they had paid for, then followed Aragorn down to the common room. They wove their way through the crowded room and sat down at a table in a shadowed corner. After ordering two mugs of ale and some food, they sat there quietly observing the whole room, ignoring the suspicious and frightened looks being sent their way by the other patrons. Max, being silent for once, settled down under their table with a huff. The barmaid eventually brought their orders over and left as quickly as she came. Taking a swig of her ale, Samantha noticed that Aragorn seemed a bit unsettled, his brow was furrowed as he as scanned the entirety of the Inn's occupants. She knew that look.

"Is something troubling you, Strider?" she asked, remembering to use his other name. "You seem worried."

"I am," he replied grimly, "I was expecting Gandalf to meet us here. I haven't seen him since we've arrived. Nor has he left word for us incase he has come and gone."

Almost as if he had heard, the Innkeeper Butterbur, walked up to their table.

"E-excuse me, S-Strider?" the portly man stuttered.

"Yes, Butterbur, can I help you?" Aragorn asked distractedly.

"A-a letter has been w-waiting for you since yesterday," the man stuttered nervously. "I-I would 'ave given it to you w-when you arrived, but me-me memory isn't to b-bright. I f-forget things right easily, jus' takes me awhile to 'member w-what I've forgotten."

He handed the letter to Aragorn, glanced over at Samantha and quickly walked away from their table. Aragorn opened the letter and read it quietly so only she could hear.

"_Strider,_

_If you are reading this letter then that means I will not be able to meet you in Bree at our set time. Something has come up and I need to take care of it as soon as possible. I am expecting a pair of hobbit's to arrive the same day as you. I will need you and Tracker to take care of them for me. The one you need to concern yourself with is the one whose name is Frodo Baggins, though he will be going under the name of Underhill. Look after him and keep him safe, especially the object he is carrying, you know of what I speak. Lead him and his companion to Rivendell safely, that is all I ask. May the Valar be with you._

_Gandalf._"

Samantha stared at Aragorn for a few seconds before she spoke. "I knew it. I had a feeling this is what was going to happen."

"I take it that this incident has occurred in the stories you've read?" Aragorn inquired.

She nodded her head, before turning back to scanning the room, "Yeah, and so far it seems to be following it to the letter. So the hobbits will be arriving today?"

"Apparently," Aragorn stated.

"So, what do we do?" Samantha asked.

"What Gandalf has instructed us to do. We wait."

"Yeah but for how long?" she asked with a huff.

Aragorn took a puff from his pipe as he glanced at her, an amused grin on his face, "As long as we have to."

Samantha sighed resignedly, leaning back in her chair. She reached down to pet Max on the head only for her hand to meet air. Quickly, she ducked under the table to find the dog gone, before she sat up and shot Aragorn a puzzled look.

"Hey, Aragorn?" Samantha asked, "Where'd Max go?"

Neither had noticed that while they had discussed Gandalf's letter, a black furred tail disappeared out the Inn's door.

* * *

Frodo pounded his fist against the rain soaked wood of the gate. He waited for a few moments before he pounded once more, this time hurriedly. It was then he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps from the other side of the gate.

"Alright! Alright!" called a hoarse voice, "I'ma coming!"

There was a click, the sound of a latch being released, and a small window creaked opened two above him. It slammed shut just as quickly as it opened before one at his height swung open to reveal a tired and weathered face glowering at him.

"What is it, what do you want?" the man grumpily demanded.

"We are headed for the Prancing Pony," Frodo began, while his companions occasionally glanced behind them nervously. "May we come in? We are to meet someone there."

The was slammed shut, then followed by clinking and clanking, a small door in the gate opened to reveal the an aged man huddled under a sodden hooded cloak and holding a lantern in one hand. He lifted the lantern high before him, bathing the four travelers in its light to examine them better.

"Hobbits, four hobbits!" He said in surprise. "Haven't seen your folk out of the Shire in ages. What business do you have in Bree?"

"Our business is our own!" Frodo stated heatedly, clutching his cloak about him.

Properly chastised, the gatekeeper bowed his head, "Im sorry sirs, I meant no offense," he said apologetically, stepping aside to allow them entrance, "There is talk of strange folk abroad, can't be to careful!"

Frodo nodded his head in understanding as he led his friends into the village, the door slamming closed behind them as the gatekeeper limped his way back to his hut. As they walked through the maze of twisting mud filled streets, they were surprised at the number of people that were out and about on such a dreary and wet night. Frodo heard a shout and stumbled to the side of the rode as something latched onto his arm and pulled him out of the way of a fast moving horse pulled wagon. He breathed out in relief and turned to see it was his long time friend and gardener, Samwise Gamgee who had a hold of his arm.

"Are you alright, mister Frodo?" the hobbit asked him worriedly.

"Yes, Sam, I'm fine," Frodo told him with a smile. Sam gave him a quick once-over before he reluctantly released his hold. They continued on through the streets, never noticing the large black dog that followed a few paces behind them.

Max doggedly - no pun intended - followed the group of four child-beings that he was sure his human and her companion were to wait for. He followed them through the crowded streets until the started to approach the in his human was staying at. He quickly picked up his pace, wanting to get there first before they did. He scampered passed the four, no more than a black blur to most, except for a pair of startled blue eyes that followed the dog as he ducked through the open doors.

* * *

Frodo stared at his plate morosely, pushing his half eaten meal from one side of the dish to the other, thoughts of the strange dog he had seen not but a few minutes before seemingly forgotten. He paid little attention to anything around him, not even noticing the conversation that occured between Merry and Pippin over pint sized drinks. He was brought out of his depressed state when Sam nudged his arm.

"Those men have done nothing but stare at us since we arrived, more so you," Sam whispered to him.

Frodo shifted his eyes toward the table in the corner and it's occupants. Two men, both wearing cloaks with their hoods up, sat at the table. And though it was hard to notice, he was able to catch one and then the other as they briefly glanced in his direction and then away. They were dressed in similar outfits that appeared to have seen better days and appeared to instigate fear from anyone who looked their way. Frodo waited patiently until the Innkeeper was walking by his table and grabbed his sleeve.

"Excuse me, who are those two men over at that table?" the hobbit asked, indicating who he was talking about with a nod of his head.

Butterbur curiously glanced over at the table in question, froze and then turned back to the hobbit, his face pale. "Them two are some of them rangers, mysterious folk, they are. Don't know their real names, but the older one there goes by the name Strider, and the younger, the one with the eye-patch, he's called Tracker. Why you be wanting to know about them, I don't know. But my advice, stay out of their business and they will stay out of yours."

He then quickly continued on his way as if the conversation never happened. Frodo fixed his eyes back on the two rangers once more.

"Strider..." he muttered to himself, "And Tracker..."

It was then that he glanced underneath their table. He looked down as he was taking a sip from his tankard and nearly choked on his drink when his eyes met those of a large black furred dog, the same dog he had seen run into the Inn before his group arrived. He set his mug down on the table and clutched at a certain pocket when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay, mister Frodo?" asked a concerned Sam.

As he opened his mouth to reassure his gardener that he was fine, a familiar voice rang out through the whole room.

"Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins! He's right there, Frodo Baggins..." exclaimed Pippin from the bar as he pointed in Frodo's direction, causing said hobbit stiffen in horror.

Frodo leapt up from his bench and dodged around tables and people toward his young cousin as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Pippin!" He exclaimed when he reached him, latching onto his arm and started to drag him away from the bar.

"Steady on!" Shouted the younger hobbit as he pulled his arm from Frodo's grasp.

Frodo stumbled backwards and he tripped over someone's foot, landing heavily on his back and sending something flying from his pocket. He hurriedly reached for it only for the object to slip onto one of his fingers and then he suddenly vanished, sending all who saw into an uproar.

* * *

Samantha let out a startled gasp when the hobbit disappeared from sight, along with most of the patrons in the common room. She had recognized the four of them as soon as they had entered the room after Max had returned. She knew what would happen while they were there so she really shouldn't have been as surprised and shocked by what she just saw, but she was. _I guess seeing it on film doesn't do the real thing justice__,~ _she thought to herself. She was pulled from her daze when Aragorn tapped her shoulder and rose from his seat, she quickly followed suit. They made their way through the pandemonium over toward a table that Max was staring and glaring under. The pair approached cautiously and when they reached it, Frodo reappeared sitting on the floor with a terrified expression on his face.

The poor hobbit didn't even have time to pull himself together, for Aragorn reached down and yanked the hobbit out from under the table and held him to his face.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, mister 'Underhill'," he hissed in his ear, before he tossed Frodo toward the stairs and forced him up them with a push. Samantha and Max followed at his heals as he dragged the struggling hobbit all the way down the hall to their room and threw him inside, slamming it shut behind them. Aragorn walked across the room and stood before the fire, leaving Samantha and Max to stand by the door and watch the proceedings.

Frodo glanced at each of his captors before turning to Aragorn with what he hoped was a brave face.

"What do you want?" he demanded, his voice trembling.

"A little more caution from you," Aragorn began, irritation heavy in his tone, "That is no trinket you carry."

"I carry nothing," Frodo stated, glancing over at Samantha, trying to see her face beyond her mask and hood.

"Indeed," the ranger hissed as he walked toward the window and extinguished the candles with his fingers. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, " he continued, "But to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift."

"Who are you?" Frodo ask suspiciously, glancing from one ranger to the other.

"Tracker, remove your hood so we can put mister Baggins here at ease," said Aragorn as he lowered his own.

"Okay," Frodo started when she spoke and gapped openly when she pulled back her hood, letting her long braided redish-brown hair fall down her back, and lowered her mask. Samantha then smiled at him cheekily, "What, were you expecting me to be a guy?"

"Well, yes as a matter of fact I was," the hobbit replied stunned.

"Hn," she grunted crossing her arms, "Shows what you know about us rangers then."

Before they could get sidetracked, Aragorn cleared his throat, regaining Frodo's attention.

"Are you frightened of us?" he asked.

"Yes, well maybe? I don't know," Frodo said hesitantly.

"Well, not nearly frightened enough, we know what hunts you," Aragorn stated as he began closing in on the now trembling hobbit.

Max's growl interrupted the conversation, and all three turned to the dog and then the door, which he was looking at. Aragorn swiftly drew his sword, Samantha drawing hers as she stepped to the side of the door and they waited. The door swung open, slamming her in the face and her back into the wall, as three hobbits lunged into the room.

"Let him go! Or I'll have you longshanks!" Sam yelled holding his fists before him, trying to look threatening, but failing miserably.

Aragorn smiled as he sheathed his sword, "You have a stout heart little hobbit, but that will not save you," he said before turning to the door and asked in amusement, "You alright there Tracker?"

Puzzled, the trio of hobbits turned to the door as it was swung shut from behind to reveal a young woman rubbing her nose, an irritated expression on her face. "Yes, Strider I'm fine. Should have remembered which way the bloody door opened." The last part she hissed to herself as she stepped further into the room.

"Oi! You're a girl! I thought you said Tracker was a man, Merry!" Pippin exclaimed, pointing at her, only to get smacked over the head by the hobbit beside him.

"Pippin! Don't be rude! I'm sorry about him miss! He doesn't know any better!" Merry berated him, before apologizing.

Samantha grunted her forgiveness as she made her way over to stand at Aragorn's side.

"All that aside," said ranger continued, "You can't wait for the wizard forever, Frodo. They're coming."

* * *

**And, I'm finally done, with this one! Whew, that was a long one and a lot of things are happening in this chapter so it was a little difficult to write. Please let me know what you think of this story so far! Review!**

**Dune**

**I would like to thank:**

**darkmistressofsilence92****: I'm glad you think my story is interesting. Please keep reading and reviewing my story, it's really appreciated.**

**Thanks again for you reviews**


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