Remains of the Banished | Aragorn || Lord of the Rings

I

   The first rule of stealing without getting caught is to ensure no one is watching. Or at least, that no one is paying attention.

   One might be in a tavern full of people, like Eadrid was on this particularly stormy night, but if one practices enough, they are able to master the art of thievery. 

    "And how'd a fine lady like you find yourself here, alone?"

    "Ah, well." Eadrid smiled and leaned her elbow on the bar, her head on her hand. "I am lucky to have found you." 

    The man puffed out his chest, taking a proud look. He nodded to the bartender, "Another ale." 

     As he did this, Eadrid slid her hand into his coat pocket, swiftly taking out the pouch of coins that lay in it. The man turned back to her without noticing. 

    She tried to look around the room casually, but it was hard to not contort her face in disgust from the man's breath that reeked of ale. 

    Her eyes raked over the room, looking at every man and woman that sat in the tavern. No one had seen what she had done. 

    Eadrid shook her head. Everyone in the tavern had malicious intent behind everything they did. Every action, every breath, was foul. But then again, she had just stolen from the man she sat beside, so what did that make her?

     Eadrid's eyes stopped on the table across the tavern.

     A cloaked man sat alone at the large table. He had his hood pulled far down so that only the bottom half of his face could be seen. A pipe hung out of his mouth, drawing smoke that curled up into the air slowly. Teasing her. And the man was watching her.

     He had seen her steal the coins, Eadrid knew it.

     "That bastard," she muttered under her breath.

     "What?" the man next to her slurred.

     Eadrid ignored the drunk and turned to the bartender, then slammed the coins she had just stolen on the bar. 

     "I'd like a room." Her previous smile was gone, and the man next to her seemed startled by her sudden change of emotion. The bartender nodded and handed her a key with the room number on it.

    "Wait!" The man called as she got out of her seat. "I did not get your name!"

    She didn't bother turning back to him as she walked out of the room- but she glanced one last time towards the corner of the pub. The cloaked man was turned towards her, watching still. 

     She slipped out the door before anyone else saw.

    After finding her room and laying her satchel on the chair next to the bed, she sighed and looked out the window. People were walking in and out of the Prancing Pony, shielding themselves from the rain, but it was in vain. The rain fell in heavy sheets, and the wind sounded as though it wanted to brawl with the walls of the inn.

     She quickly shut the curtains, took off her cloak and jerkin, and looked in her satchel. She found no clean clothes, much to her disappointment. She made sure for the third time that the door was locked, and got into the bed in the corner of the small room, finally letting herself relax. 

     Eadrid fell asleep before any thoughts could attempt to take her mind.

_____

     Eadrid's eyes shot open, and she unsheathed her sword in a swift motion, looking around her room. She quickly got out of bed, moving the curtains only slightly, and looked out her window again. Her limbs seized and her heart went cold. The warmth seemed to be sucked out of the room, even the lit candle went out with a hiss. The noise that woke her, sounded again. She saw four black horses moving restlessly as screeches came from a room close to her.

     A few moments later, the four owners of the horses mounted and quickly rode away in the other direction. Eadrid, not letting the grip on her sword loosen turned around, her brows knit in confusion.

    "Ringwraiths..." She muttered.

_____

    Early next morning, Eadrid still sat in the chair by the window. It wasn't until she had watched the sky turn from black to blue, and to light pink before she saw anything out of the ordinary again.

    Just before the sun was about to break over the horizon, she saw the man in the cloak from the night before, four smaller men she thought to be Hobbits, and a pony with him.

    She clothed herself, grabbed her satchel, sheathed her sword, and quickly moved out the door.

     She saw the man and his company a long way ahead of her, and she kept her distance on the path. As they finally took away from the road, moving into forest and meadow, she stopped to create more distance between them. 

     Finally night came after a long day of trailing behind, and Eadrid could see a fire in the distance being lit. She sat behind a tree out of their view so as not to be seen, but stayed awake. She fought hard the urge to sleep, which proved difficult after a sleepless night before it.

     After a long while, she finally walked towards their camp.

     She looked at the man as she approached them, her footsteps quiet. He and the other four, who she confirmed were Hobbits, were all asleep. She walked as quietly as she could to the pony, laid a hand on its muzzle to quiet it, and dug through the pack that laid on its back. 

     As soon as she heard the tiniest sound she whipped around, pointing her sword to the man's throat. 

     His sword was already to her chest.

     Eadrid smiled. "Aragorn. Nice to see an old friend again."