1. Into the Fire

The Prancing Pony – a lively and seemingly innocent village pub, with a few sombre guests being the exception. One of them happened to be a hooded woman who had arrived before evening fell.

Weeks of travel had left her dirty and unwelcoming, but a bath an hour ago had returned some of her appeal. She was seated away from the crowds, preferring the cover of shadow while a pair of hawk-like blue eyes scanned the room.

There was just one other in this room that she was truly wary of. A tall, haggard looking traveller, calmly smoking a pipe in the other end of the pub while occasionally taking a sip from his tankard of ale.

Or perhaps the ale was just for show? One couldn't afford to get drunk in this setting. He had arrived scant moments ago, but the man's presence was enough to catch her attention. She had picked this place as the safest place to stay for the night, considering what was out there.

'The Nazgul.' She thought with a shudder.

Ivy had only heard of them, but never faced one. Her brethren from the east had sent word to all four corners that something was amiss and stirring in the east. The faceless, undead black riders had been unleashed by the scum of Mordor. This wasn't a question of stopping them, but to find out their purpose.

She had an inkling, a gut wrenching nervousness in the pit of her stomach as if standing on the edge of a cliff. The world was changing, something dark was about to take place and it was their duty to offer aid wherever possible.

For years they had stood watch, correcting the wrongdoings of men and fighting corruption. Nazgul, reports of the grey wizard appearing in the White City, the number of orc attacks constantly increasing – those were just a few of the messages that had been passed between the fractions.

Now, now was the time to spring into action and offer real aid. Middle-Earth needs it so desperately, especially with the darkness that was looming over the near future.

Ivy's focus on this stranger was briefly broken when the door opened once more and a group of hobbits entered. She sat forward in her chair to get a better look; long finger ripping pieces from the loaf of bread she had bought earlier to make this shift of her position appear more natural.

Well, she could only presume that those were hobbits. This was the first time her eyes set sight upon one for Ivy had never scouted this close to the Shire. There was never any need for the hobbits were a quiet and peaceful folk, and their little order of guardians had nothing to investigate there. Whatever squabbles the shire folk faced, they managed to clear up on their own.

It took some effort to listen in over the shouting and drunken banter of the village folk, but Ivy's ears caught a dark haired one introducing himself as "Underhill". They asked for food and board and paid for it upfront, nothing of interest besides their presence this far from the Shire.

Ivy relaxed back into the wooden chair, resuming her ponderings. Did hobbits even travel? She had never heard of travelling hobbits before. Except for…wasn't there one who travelled with the now-dead king of Erebor, back in the day? No matter, she brushed away the distracting thoughts and resumed her observatory position.

With monotonous actions she lifted the pieces of bread and fruit from the plate to her lips and chewed. Despite the apparent enthusiasm, she was grateful for the food. Weeks on the road with no company but her own? This little break was a welcome distraction. She had missed having a roof over her head, the jolly crackling of firewood in the hearth and the chatter around her was lulling.

These people here had no idea what was happening all around them.

Ivy sighed and washed down the bread with a swig of ale. She had to admit that it was much tastier than she had originally suspected.

'Please,' the woman begged in her mind, 'let this be a quiet night so I can gather my strength and carry on the hunt tomorrow.'

The corner of her mouth quirked when she saw one of the four hobbits jollily chatter away at the bar, explaining the intricate and complicated family tree that he had been bestowed.

Aragorn had followed the Grey Wizard's orders to the dot. He had found the hobbits in question and followed them to Bree; it gladdened his heart to see that the innocent band arrived safely. It was truly a miracle…considering that they had no weapons or training to speak of and the hooded riders at their tails.

The thought almost coaxed a smile from him. Braver men had faltered in their courage while facing lesser beings, yet these small innocent hobbits were full of surprises.

They weren't exactly trying to conceal their presence, choosing to stay downstairs for supper and merrily slurping their pints. What did irk him was the slim figure in the darkest corner of the room.

Hooded and armed – could this be one of Mordor's spies? It wasn't out of the question that they might hire someone to track the hobbits…

'Or him!' thought Aragorn as a jabbing afterthought.

She had been watching him from the moment he entered, barely breaking the icy gaze as her sight remained fixed and unbroken, until the four hobbits entered the picture.

The ranger tensed when he heard the name "Frodo Baggins" uttered at the barstool. The pipe that he had been mindlessly smoking was lowered from his lips as the hobbit in question scrambled up to his comrade, spilling the ginger's drink in the process and in their little skirmish caused Frodo to slip and fall on his back.

All eyes turned to the little man and Aragorn's eyes caught sight of a flash of gold and an icy panic took hold of his stomach as he realised what the hobbit was carrying. He stood up just in time to see the little fellow reach out his hand in an attempt to catch the ring, only to have it land on his finger and making the hobbit disappear causing shouts of surprise to erupt from the village folk.

Aragorn had heard that the ring could make one invisible, but to see it first-hand? It was shocking even to him.

The rest of the hobbit's comrades looked utterly baffled, exchanging looks of confusion and shock between them, thank the Valar. It seems that this Frodo had enough wits about to keep knowledge about the ring secret, even from his comrades who were now most likely sobered up from the shock of the events.

Strider made his way to where Frodo Baggins supposedly was, though his eyes couldn't even catch the shadow of this hobbit. Like a wolf his eyes instinctively reacted to any movement and when the black haired hobbit reappeared, he was right behind him. The commotion quieted down and the rest resumed their usual evening, though there were hush discussions of what they had just witnessed.

Frodo shook his head, panting, clearly startled from the experience. Who knows what horrors the hobbit might've witnessed while wearing this ring? But by donning it, even by accident, Aragorn knew that the Nazgul must be heading this way.

The ring, it calls to them, beckons them closer and wearing it was as good as screaming out their location. He grabbed Frodo by the shoulder, turning him sharply around.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, mister Underhill." He hissed pointedly at the Hobbit, emphasising the alias that the Hobbit had picked.

He didn't give the poor bloke any time to answer before hurling him away, pushing him up the stairs to his own room. Time was of essence here, there wasn't a moment to spare if they wanted to escape the wraiths now after drawing them here, almost inviting them.

The hobbit was like a child in his eyes; to think that he carried such a heavy burden was unsettling. There was the woman to think about as well. If she's a spy of Mordor then no doubt she would try to follow them.

Aragorn unlocked the door and pushed the hobbit inside, closing the door hastily behind him. Frodo scrambled up hastily, standing as tall as he could with his eyes wide.

"What do you want?"

"A little more caution from you; that is no trinket you're carrying." Stated Aragon.

"I carry nothing!" retorted the hobbit hastily, a little too quickly to make it believable.

"Indeed," He muttered almost sarcastically, stalking around the room like a cat "I can avoid being seen if I wish," said Aragorn while putting out the several candles in the room, his tone lightening, "but to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift."

Finally he turned around and removed the hood from his head to properly look Frodo in the eye. The hobbit examined him with plenty of suspicion still evident in his features.

"Who are you?" He asked, though his tone was a lot less defensive.

"Are you frightened?" asked Aragorn, almost jestingly if it weren't for the direness of the situation.

There was a pause before the hobbit answered affirmative, unleashing another tongue lashing from Aragorn.

"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you." He stated, determined to keep the ring away from the wraiths.

In order to do that some thin bond of trust has to be forged between them.

Some sound drew away his attention and Aragorn turned around, drawing his sword when the door was slammed open by the hobbits Aragorn recognised as Frodo's travel companions. The one in the front was baring nothing but his fists and brave heart while the other two looked positively frightened at the sight of a bared blade, holding nothing but a chair and a candlestick.

"Let him go, or I'll have you longshanks!" He shouted, unfazed by the sight of a sword.

Aragorn felt a twinge of respect for the loyalty this one displayed and returned his sword to the scabbard. He had no quarrel with them.

"You have a stout heart, little hobbit, but that will not save you."

The ranger turned to Frodo once more, not once breaking eye contact in an attempt to make the little man understand just how serious this was.

"You're no longer waiting for the wizard, Frodo. They're coming."

Another little scratch caught his ears; coming from the stairs and Aragorn pulled the other three hobbits inside.

"Stay behind me!" He whispered to them and drew his blade.

Was the spy of Mordor waiting for this opportunity, hoping to catch him off guard?

The hobbits scrambled into a little heap in the farthest corner of the room while Aragorn stood ready to attack at the first sign of provocation. He heard the lithe footsteps and the creaking of the floorboards as the hooded woman from downstairs came into view of their doorway, holding both of her gloved hands up as a sign of good faith.

"I'm no enemy of yours, put that sword away and I'll explain."

Aragorn made no movement to comply. Female assassins were a valuable asset; they could easily slip into the hearts of men and draw out compassion, not to mention that men of honour hesitated to strike a woman.

The hobbits were wide-eyed and somewhat awed; it was a rare sight to see a travelling woman, not to mention one who was armed. Yet here was one, wearing breeches and carrying a bow.

She pulled back her hood, revealing a thin face with features as sharp as her eyes.

"For Valar's sake, if this Underhill of yours is carrying what I think he is, then he just drew the wraiths here. I've been tracking their whereabouts for weeks, now would you put that sword away so we could at the very least switch bloody rooms before they get here? You can interrogate me all you want when we're in a safer place than this!"

Her voice wasn't panicky, it was irritated and calculated. In a last resort she pulled out an envelope from the inner pocket of her leather coat, holding it out to Aragorn.

"Here, recognise this seal?" She asked, inclining with her head for Aragorn to accept this token.

He was not about to strike down a woman who didn't even have a weapon in her hands. Aragorn returned the blade and accepted the letter, though his stance remained battle-ready. He turned it over and in the light of the fire, examined the shape pressed into the dark blue wax.

Two oak branches surrounding a hooded figure with no discernable features or gender. He had seen this seal only a handful times in his long lifetime. The Nameless, a strange band of warriors and nomad peacemakers that travelled the world, only appearing in moments of need. The organisation had morphed and changed its purpose during the long decades of its existence…but they were friends, not enemies.

When she saw the recognition in his eyes she fetched a chain from under her tunic to show him a silver necklace with the same emblem,

"Letters and jewellery can be stolen, but it's all the proof I have right now."

Aragorn returned the letter to the woman, his shoulders losing some of the tension.

"I apologise, my lady. I figured you to be a spy from Mordor."

This did not completely dissolve the lingering suspicion he harboured, but an assassin sent by Sauron would've attacked by now. One man and a few defenceless hobbits should be of no problem to dispose of, especially with the ring of power at stake.

She shook her head, refusing his apology.

"Good, suspicion is probably what has kept you living this long. The name's Ivy, now could we please move now?"

Only now did the hobbits pipe up from the corner, the one who had stolen a stool from the pub and was now merrily sitting upon it,

"Move where? You can't possibly mean to travel tonight?" He asked, no doubt dreading the pouring rain outside.

It would be muddy and wet and nothing like the soft feathery bed that he was expecting from tonight.

Ivy exchanged a look with Aragorn. They were on foot, the hobbits were unarmed and the group was in a serious disadvantage in the dark. The wraiths knew that they were in the Prancing Pony, even if they left Bree now, there's no guarantee that they'll get anywhere. On foot they wouldn't get far.

It was a silent agreement between the pair. The best bet was to switch inns. The hobbits watched the interaction in silent anticipation, Ivy suddenly turned to Frodo.

"Tell me your room number, and give me the key."

He seemed taken aback, but nevertheless surrendered the key without much protest.

"What are you going to do? Are you intending to face them on your own?"

The woman laughed briefly at the doorway.

"I'm not suicidal. I'll just fluff up some pillows to waste their time. The wraiths can't really tell the difference between a heap of feathers and a real hobbit, can they?"

Aragorn flashed a look to the hobbits.

"Stay here, speak to no one!" He ordered before motioning for Ivy to lead the way.

He didn't trust her enough to leave her alone just yet, and it will be faster if they do it together.

The pair rushed down the hallway to the hobbits' room. Ivy threw open the door and they got to work. An inviting warm fire was lit and fresh ale and bread left out for the hobbits to nibble on.

The woman broke off about half a loaf, leaving some crumbs on the table and pouring some of the ale out of the window to make it seem more believable. She wrapped the half loaf in her hand into a piece of cloth she found and stocked it into her bag for tomorrow's travel.

With Aragorn's help they had four hobbit-esque piles stocked under the blankets. Ivy was painfully conscious of Aragorn constantly checking on her movements while they worked silently. She examined their handiwork, snorting,

"The wraiths, they can't really see can they?"

Aragorn shook his head.

"Not as we do. Now hurry." He ordered and watched around warily while the woman locked the door behind them and they headed back to the hobbits.

It was uncomfortable for him to leave them alone even for the scant minutes that they were gone, and it gladdened his heart to see them unharmed. Their arrival startled the group. Frodo was the only one standing by the fire, the other three were lazily sprawled on the floor, chattering quietly, but the merriness in their voice sounded strained.

"What now?" Asked the stocky hobbit.

Ivy glanced at the window and then back at the hobbits.

"Can you climb, or shall I carry you down on my back?"

The notion seemed to embarrass the hobbit who had the faintest sign of a blush on his cheeks,

"I wouldn't burden a lady like that."

One of the ginger ones slapped him playfully on the back.

"What dear Sam here is trying to say, is that we hobbits are quite proficient at climbing!"

Ivy nodded at that, offering a small smile.

"Good, then out you go."

Aragorn stepped in.

"Perhaps I should go first, in case one of them falls."

Ivy agreed with the plan, and turned her face to the closed door, listening to any sound.

"You, Frodo is your name I think. You go right after him. The wraiths are hunting you, it's imperative that we get you out and away. We'll have some proper introductions once we're someplace safer than this."

She caught just a glimpse of Aragorn's ring before the man disappeared into the darkness and the still-pouring rain. The weather was foul and made the climb treacherous, both of the humans were quite worried for the four hobbits who looked soft and not at all sturdy.

"Go!" She whispered to Frodo who proved to be much more nimble than she gave him credit for.

Next was the stocky hobbit, followed by the two carefree hobbits and lastly by Ivy herself. She closed the window as best as she could behind her before climbing down the pub wall, cursing the weather under her breath. Never before had she been this grateful for the leather cloak that she was wearing.

Aragorn watched her descent for a scant second before he was glancing around warily. No sign of the wraiths yet, only sounds to be heard were completely ordinary like drunken chatter and the sounds of farm animals.

There was another inn in the village, much cheaper and with less comforts than the Prancing Pony, but no doubt the group was much happier to escape with their lives with the price of some feather pillows and a warm hearth. Actually it was right across the street, much to Aragorn's discomfort.

"Be ready." He whispered to Ivy who nodded sharply and pulled up her hood again to conceal herself from any curious eyes and this strange haggard group quickly made their way across the small street.

Luckily, the Shire was close enough so the appearance of four hobbits wasn't such a rarity in this town and wasn't a cause of worry.

Their switch of inns was, thank Valar, uneventful. Ivy bit back a groan when she heard one of the hobbits mutter something about the quality of the ale being better at the Pony, but she blamed fear for this lack of patience. Any other day she might've found this situation completely comical, but right now she was frightened.

Aragorn paid for one room and supper, and they headed upstairs. Only when the door was closed behind them did the hobbits exhale, one of them collapsing into the room's only double bed. Just as he had in the Prancing Pony, Aragorn quickly put out any candles before sitting by the window, eyes peering outside and his sword securely in his hand.

"We shall stay the night and move at the first light tomorrow, there's no time to waste." He declared solemnly.

It seemed like the hobbits didn't dare to argue, and it was smart of them not to. The group fell into an awkward silence until supper was brought to them, consisting of bread, cheese, some meat and a bit of butter.

The prospect of food seemed to lighten the hobbits' mood a little bit as they scampered to the table to make some simple sandwiches. Ivy removed her heavy leather coat once more and laid it near the fire with her pack and bow, leaving her blade hanging on her hip.

Only for a moment did Aragorn break his gaze to look at the woman properly. She had to be at least over twenty of age with long blonde hair, pulled back into a braid that fell down her back. Most of her clothing was dark and sturdy and her leather boots had clearly seen a lot of travel. His eyes quickly counted the weapons on her person and he realised that she most likely knew how to fend for herself.

"You'll take first watch, I take it?" asked Ivy, answered only by a curt nod by Aragorn who hastily averted his eyes, there was no need for his eyes to roam any further and cause discomfort.

He listened as she joined the hobbits by the table, sitting next to Frodo.

"I'll join you, if you don't mind." She said pleasantly, using this moment to cut herself a slice of bread and spreading a generous serving of butter on it.

"Not at all, my lady," said one of the redheads, "I'm Meriadoc Brandybuck, or Merry for short, and this here," he inclined to his close friend whose mouth was at the moment stuffed with delicious food, "is Peregrin Took, who goes by the name Pippin."

Ivy cracked a smile at the sight.

"My pleasure. You're Frodo Baggins I gather, but who is the last travel companion of yours?" She asked, switching her attention from Frodo to the last hobbit.

"Samwise Gamgee, his gardener." He finished and quickly occupied his hands with another slice of bread, still seemingly a little embarrassed.

"I think that your tale might be something quite fantastic, but on another night perhaps." She noted, wondering how this curious band of hobbits came upon this ring of power.

It unsettled her, knowing that it was so close to her. Right in this very room…Right next to her in fact…Her thoughts were broken by Pippin who piped up, now that he had managed to swallow the mouthful.

"How did you end up here, my lady?"

Ivy smiled thoughtfully.

"Scouting, I heard about the wraiths being deployed so I've been trying to track them, figure out what are they looking for…Well I got the answer to that."

"A woman such as you travelling alone?" asked Frodo, actually sounding concerned.

She almost laughed, but supressed the urge.

"My dear, I'm armed to the tooth; being attacked is not an issue. Don't worry about that."

Aragorn broke his gaze for a moment.

"What about tomorrow? You got your answer, shouldn't you report back?"

Ivy inclined her head.

"So ready to rid of me? You think I can just leave four defenceless hobbits under the protection of one ranger? No, I'll see them to safety, wherever you might lead us."

There was neither ill will in her eyes nor deception in her voice, and if the stories about the Nameless Ones' skills were indeed true, then he had earned a mighty ally. Their eyes remained locked for a few tense seconds before Merry broke their focus.

"Well, they do say the more the merrier."

Ivy broke into a smile at the little joke before rolling her eyes.

"Eat up and then off to bed, little hobbits. You'll need your strength tomorrow."

She finished the sandwich before heading over to Aragorn, leaving the hobbits to their cheerful chattering.

"Who are you? Where are you leading them?" She finally asked, voicing just a few of the questions in her head.

Though outwardly calm, she was in a terrible inner turmoil.

Just today she was tracking the wraiths, now she had stumbled upon the One Ring of Power and her stupid pride can't let this matter go until it is sure that someone more…able has the ring.

For what, though? Safekeeping? The ring was known to be treacherous; its history was drenched in blood. The time to act was now. The discovery of the ring would explain everything, that's the only thing that might rouse the forces in East.

Blue eyes met blue as he seemed to be weighing his options, trying to figure out how much trust to place in this woman.

"You may call me 'Strider." He said after a long pause, breaking their eye contact and looking back out of the window, making sure to keep out of sight.

Ivy nodded.

"Not your real name, but alright, and where are you taking them?"

"This is beyond my wisdom, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, I trust no one but him with this knowledge."

The name jostled Ivy's memory; her mentor had been to Rivendell several times for council. She nodded.

"It's a reasonable course of action," agreed the woman "I will aid you, at least until Rivendell. What happens from thereon, I cannot say."

Aragorn nodded in sincere thanks.

"I can ask for no more, my lady, you have my gratitude."

Not many would agree with a course this perilous. There were a hundred and one things that could've gone wrong, yet she still agreed to stay.

"It's my pleasure. I wouldn't be able to walk away from here with a clear conscience, to leave you to your fates."

And Rivendell would be a much better place to send word to the rest. If memory served her correct, a few of their messenger birds were still stationed there. Ivy only needed one; just get word to one of the members and information will spread like wildfire.

The woman hesitated. Should this information be passed around? What if it ended up in the wrong hands? No…She will decide upon the matter later on. Knowledge about the One Ring wasn't something to be flashed around carelessly, even in their order. It would be enough to let them know that she has discovered the root of the problem and is dealing with it.

A comfortable silence settled between them and Ivy nodded, as if to end their interaction,

"Wake me in a few hours, I'll take the second watch. You're no use to us exhausted." She jabbed, taking note of his unshaven and haggard look.

Judging by appearance, this Strider has been on the road for weeks, just as she.

Aragorn nodded.

"As you wish."

Ivy headed to her belongings and threw herself down on her leather coat, using her arm as a pillow while the other, out of habit, gripped the hilt of her sword.

"My lady," exclaimed Sam, who was the first to notice her take the floor "please, take the bed."

She popped open one eye with a look that left little room for argument.

"And leave you four sleeping on the floor? Non-negotiable, good night little hobbits."

And with that she turned her back to them. Though she was certain that sleep would elude her tonight, Ivy was currently too high strung to relax, too many thoughts going through her head. Not to mention the knowledge of the ring wraiths that were on their way to Bree, if they hadn't already arrived.

The woman was mistaken though, and after much pondering she had managed to fall into some sort of light slumber. It wasn't until she heard the angry, blood-chilling screams of the nazgul that she shot up, drawing her sword in an instinctive reflex. Her eyes scanned the room quickly, noticing the three freshly awoken hobbits and Frodo, who apparently hadn't gone to bed at all.

Aragorn towered by the window like a solemn guardian, looking down upon the nazgul with a strangely sad look in her eyes as they exited the Prancing Pony and got back on their demonic steeds.

"What are they?" asked Frodo.

He knew that both of those strange humans offering them protection seemed to know precisely what they were dealing with yet the hobbit hadn't even heard of those black hooded figures. They felt familiar to him, but that might've been the ring trying to get to them.

His question caused Aragorn to draw his eyes away from the scene below.

"They were once men." He said quietly, his voice just above a whisper as the wraiths howled outside the window.

Their otherworldly screams were enough to make most men drop their weapons and flee.

Ivy sighed sadly.

"They were great kings of men who were offered nine rings of power by Sauron, which they took of course. Mankind is prone to greed…" Her voice trailed away in shame.

No one was safe from this weakness. How much evil could've been prevented if only mankind had proven to be stronger?

Aragorn nodded in agreement.

"He deceived them. One by one the rings corrupted them, prompting their fall into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will."

The hobbits were wide-eyed, pressing their backs against the bedframe while Ivy stalked to the window, to take a peek.

"Nazgul, ring wraiths, call them what you will, but they're neither living nor dead."

She felt a strange apprehensiveness at the sight of the nazgul. It has been a long time since she felt fear again.

"At all times they feel the presence of the ring, drawn to the power of the one," He looked Frodo dead in the eye "they will never stop hunting you."

Aragorn's words sent chills down Frodo's back and suddenly the ring felt a lot heavier, and the hobbit became painfully aware of its presence once more.

It was time to return to its master.

And that's a wrap!

So greetings to you all. This isn't my very first fanfiction ever, but this is the first time I'm attempting to write something in Tolkien's universe so feel free to point out any lore-related mistakes I might make during the course of this story. It's going to be fun to be creating some lore and culture of my own, especially with the Nameless Ones and how the guild came to be etc.

Sending lots of love to my beta reader - Oakenshield's Star. No doubt I'd be lost without you. Make sure to check out their stories as well, as they've been much more prolific in their writing career.

Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, until next time!

cm