Desolation

A New Friend

Pippin and I hurry over to the table where Merry and Sam are. "Pippin, you moron!" Sam hisses, looking around frantically. "I should've known so much ale would go to your head!"

"I'm sorry!" Pippin responds heatedly. "If you and Frodo would've shared a little bit more about what this adventure about maybe I would've been more careful!"

"Oh, as if being chased through the forest by an absolutely terrifying Black Rider wasn't enough warning for you? Maybe next time we should leave you behind for him!"

"You--" Pippin practically leaps at Sam, and both Merry and I have to hold him back.

"Wait, wait, look! It's Frodo!" I say to the others. "He's being taken upstairs by that Strider fellow!"

"We've got to save him," Merry adds urgently. "Pippin, Sam, calm down. We've got to fix this!" He lets go of Pippin and grabs a candelabra off a table. "Come on!"

Sam charges ahead, barreling up the stairs with Merry close behind. Pippin grabs a knife off the table, hands it to me, and then grabs an empty stool. We run up the stairs and down a dark hallway, and stare at all the closed doors lining the hall.

"Which one is he in?" Pippin asks frantically.

"Listen at the doors," Sam whispers urgently, "and we should be able to hear him." We stop at one, two, three, four doors without hearing anything.

"There's only one more door," Merry whispers.

"Then it has to be it," Sam responds gravely. "Lets go." I take a deep breath and charge at the door alongside Pippin. Sam throws it open and steps into the room, fists raised. He stares up at the Ranger without fear, but the drawn sword in Strider's grasp takes my breath away. Merry tightens his grip on the candelabra and Pippin raises his stool a little higher.

"Let him go!" Sam shouts defiantly, fists raised. "Or I'll have you, Long-shanks!" The Ranger regards us for a moment before stepping back and sheathing his sword, a grim smile on his face that quickly disappears.

"You have a stout heart, hobbit, I'll give you that." Sam glares at Strider warily. "But still it will not save you." He turns to Frodo urgently. "You cannot wait for the wizard anymore, Frodo. They're coming."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Sam asks, still not lowering his fists.

"Because you have to," Strider responds. "Besides, I am a friend of Gandalf's. Now, we must act quickly. You must do exactly as I say, or you will all be dead by morning." He looks over at us and smirks a little. "You may lower your paltry weapons, little hobbits. I mean no harm, truly. You are as safe as your situation allows if you stay with me." Pippin and Merry set down their makeshift weapons with embarrassment, but I tighten my grasp on the knife.

"It's alright, Jessa," Pippin whispers, but I don't take my eyes off of Strider.

"Alright, keep your table knife," the Ranger decides, "but please, I'd rather not have to deal with any injuries tonight, so be careful. But rather than standing half in the hall, come in and shut the door, why don't you." I step into the room but don't shut the door in case we need a rapid escape. Strider sighs, then walks over to me. I stiffen and raise my knife with both hands.

"Don't come any closer!" I warn him, trying to hide the trembling in my hands and voice.

"Calm down, Miss Hobbit," Strider says soothingly. "If I wanted to harm you or your friends you would all be dead by now. I appreciate your caution, but if you want to survive the night then you are going to have to trust me." When I don't respond he kneels down to my height. "You're safe, I promise." He puts a hand on top of the knife and slowly pushes it down to my side. "May I shut the door now?" Not taking my eyes off of him, I slowly move to the side and allow him to close the wooden door.