From Wyoming, to Middle-earth

Chap. 5 - Bree and Beer

The man nodded and raised an eyebrow, "That's proper to call a woman that."

I blushed, "Then what is your name?"

The mysterious man ignored me, and looked through his saddle bags, and pulled out what looked to be a bandage. He ripped the fabric of my pants that was near my wound off, and wrapped the bandage around my calf.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, surprised he had done that.

The man stood back up, "My name is Strider."

"Strider. So I would call you.. Lord Strider? Right?" I asked sheepishly.

Strider chuckled, "I'd prefer Strider."

I glared at my feet, "Ok. Strider. Then I would prefer Alex. Not Lady Alex. That's fair."

He laughed, "That's fair." He looked at the setting sun, "It will be getting dark soon. We must go."

I was flabbergasted. First I fell from the sky. Then I come across dead goblin things from my dream. Then I am rescued by Strider, and I have no idea where I am.

Strider grabbed my waist, and hoisted me up onto his horse. I blushed.

"Why aren't you riding? He's is your horse," I blurted.

He looked up at me, "You are injured, Lady... Alex. And you cannot walk seven miles to the nearest town."

I frowned, and whispered, "Touche."

He led the horse away from the bodies. I was grateful to get away from the smell.

"Where are we? I asked earlier, and never responded," I said.
Clouds were forming, and they looked like rainclouds.

Strider kept watching his surroundings, "We are in the outskirts of the town Bree."

Well. That sure cleared things up. I sighed, "No, but where?"

He looked at me, confused, "Middle-Earth?"

My eyes widened, "Middle-Earth? No.. Don't you mean.. Earth?"

"Earth? No."

I scowled, "Stupid fortune teller."

Still feels like a dream. It probably is one. I examined the landscape around me; rolling hills with patches of trees. A light rain started to fall from dark clouds above.

Strider didn't say anything until they reached the gates of Bree. It was almost sunset, and it was still raining. He knocked on the gates. A gruff looking man with a wart on his face opened a small window, and looked at me, then at Strider, "What do you want?"

"We are heading to the Prancing Pony," Strider said simply, but with edge.

The old man nodded, and closed the window. I heard the door unlock, and the door opened with a creak. The man gestured for us to pass. Strider put his cloak's hood on. As he led his horse through the streets of Bree, he glanced at my leg. "Does it still hurt?"

I shook my head, "No. Not nearly as much anymore."

Strider nodded, and walked to a small stable. He helped me dismount his horse, and walked the horse into a stall.

I watched the looks people gave him. The people seemed frightened of him.

Who is this guy?

Strider walked out of the barn, and nodded to a building further down the street. "The Prancing Pony is where we will be staying."

I looked at the small inn. It had a charming image. I followed him, noticing more people.

"Why is everyone looking at you like you are a menace?" I whispered to him.

Rain created puddles in ruts in the small street. I accidentally stepped into deep one, and hopped out of it before it soaked my hiking boots.

Strider smirked at my reaction, "I am a ranger of the North. These people don't take kindly to my kind."

I didn't like his smirk. I frowned, and nodded. We reached the small inn, and walked inside. The inn's owner saw Strider, and nodded, "Right away, sir."

Sir? Okay. The inn's owner led us to a table in the corner. The pub was dim, and lit by candles and a cheery fire.

Drunk men laughed, and spilled beers and ales. I felt uncomfortable walking though the pub with the men staring at me. Strider seemed to sense that, and walked on my side so I wasn't in view of the men. We sat down on opposite sides. The plump owner set down mugs of ale, and set down a plate of steaming bread with a slab of butter.

I forgot how hungry I was. I took one bread roll, and ripped it open. Steam rose out of it. I smiled, and spread butter on the roll. Strider watched me, curiously. His hood was still on, and his eyes seemed to twinkle with the candle light.

"Where are you from, Alex?" he finally asked, and took a swig of his ale.

I looked up, "Me? I'm from.. Well not here. I'm from Wyoming..."

He seemed to ponder that. "I have never heard of such a place... Lady Alex of Wyoming," he corrected himself, "Alex of Wyoming." His eyes twinkled with amusement.

I laughed, "Lord Strider of..?"
Strider was about to open his mouth to respond, but looked at the entrance to the pub. I looked where he was looking, and saw nothing. "What are you looking at?"

Ahhhh! She met Arag- *ahem* Strider!!!