Chapter 3:

Time passed slowly in Rivendell, as it always has. Isówyn came to know it as home. She loved Elrond as if he were her kin, and he loved her in return. From the elves Isówyn obtained great knowledge. They taught her some of the secrets of the world. After three years of tranquility in Rivendell, Isówyn began to feel something she had not felt in a long while. She yearned to be out in the wild, to make her own way. In Rivendell she was surrounded by beauty and peace, yet she was not content to stay. The day came when she revealed her feelings to Elrond.

"Do not dismiss this feeling, Nethrandir. It is not a bad one," Elrond told her gently. "Ever since you came here, I knew you would not stay for long. You know the meaning of the name I have given you, do you not?"

"It means little wanderer," she said, nodding her head.

Elrond smiled, "Yes, little wanderer. When you came here I saw in your heart that you are one who desires to achieve all that life has to offer. You have wandered all your life, yet you are so young. You have learned much from your past. We have taught you much as well. There is more to learn, but the time for that knowledge has not come yet. I cannot be the one to teach you certain things. You will find that many times throughout your life that you may have to be your own teacher. Do not be afraid to leave this place, for it will always be here for you to return to.

"Diola lle Heruamin Elrond," Isówyn wrapped her arms around Elrond, disregarding formalities.

"Ta nae amin saesa Nethrandir. Namaarie, Tenna' ento lye omenta." Elrond returned the embrace gently, remembering how he first comforted the young girl who had seemed so vulnerable. Since that day he had come to know her well. She was one of the most resiliant people he had ever met. She was not as delicate as she had seemed, she had proved that to him on multiple accounts.

"Namaarie," Isówyn whispered as she looked back at the Valley of Imladris for the last time. She ran a hand along Windrae's soft coat. "Let's go, boy. It's time to see the world."

Isówyn and Windrae traveled for many days. They traveled west as Elrond had once recomended. He had told Isówyn all that he knew about Hobbits, small folk from the Shire, but his knowledge was limited. Isówyn was intrigued by the halflings and was keen to see their beautiful green homeland. If she were to see all of Middle-earth, then why not start there.

Isówyn planned to stop at the village of Bree on her way. She had not been to such a village since she had gone to Rivendell. Leaving Windrae free to go wherever he pleased, Isowyn approached the gates of Bree. A squat man let her through apprehensively, but nicely enough. When she asked him where she could find a place to rest he told her that the Prancing Pony Inn should have available rooms and a nice warm meal.

The crowded, confining streets of Bree slightly intimidated Isówyn, but they also intrigued her. Candles burned through windows all around, casting an orange glow onto the streets. It was not difficult to find her way to the inn, and when she entered a kind, robust man greeted her.

"Ah, welcome young miss. I'll be assuming you'd like a room?" Before Isówyn could respond he cut her off, nodding. "Yes, of course, of course. Awfully busy we are tonight. I'll find you a nice room and have some dinner brought to you. Could I have your name, please?"

"Isówyn. And, I'd actually like to take my meal here if you don't mind," Isówyn told him, referring to the loud and busy main room.

"Oh, I would advise against that miss. A rough crowd they are, those men."

"I think I can handle it, sir." She said politley, biting back a flippant retort.

"Oh, goodness me. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Barliman Butterbur, proprietor of this here inn. I meant no offense though, miss. I'll have Nob bring you something warm to eat now and then prepare a room for you."

"Thank you, Master Butterbur," Isówyn nodded, pushing her way through the crowd into the smoke filled, noisy room. Some men were dancing and singing drinking songs while others laughed and drank together. She pushed into a corner and took a seat at an unoccupied table. It was not long before she was enjoying a warm bowl of some sort of stew.

Isówyn sat quietly watching the men around her share in their merriment. She smiled as a drunken man stumbled over and asked her for a dance, but politley declined. She chuckled as his friends laughed at the poor fellow. She was just finishing her stew as a man slid into the chair across from her.

"Don't feel like dancing?" he asked with a half smirk.

"No, I've had a long journey. I'm just looking for some rest and a nice meal," she assured the strange man.

"If that were true you would have simply taken your meal in your room. Not that it matters, or anything."

"Well, I wanted to watch them." The man gave her a curious look and she explained, "I haven't been to a place like this in a long time. It's nice just to see people having fun and being carefree. I guess that's a bit odd..."

"No, not at all. But, you know you could be having fun too. Let me buy you an ale?"

Isówyn looked at him apprehensively. He had a mug in his hand, but he seemed quite sober. She had no idea why she allowed this man to engage her in a conversation, but he seemed to be a kind, lighthearted person. He had dark, shoulder length hair and light brown eyes. His chin was covered with stubble, and his clothes looked weather-worn.

"You haven't even asked my name," she challenged.

"Well..?"

"It's Isówyn, and yes you may."

"I'm Galennár."

"It's nice to meet you Galennár. You're not going to ask me to dance are you?"

He laughed quietly, "Don't worry, I won't. You don't seem to be from around here. Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, I was born in Rohan. But I've kind of wandered around my whole life. The closest place to home for me is Rivendell." Isówyn wasn't sure why she was telling this man she just met about herself, but it somehow felt right. He felt reliable.

"Ah, that explains it," he smirked.

"Explains what?" she snapped defensively.

"You have the manner of an elf, mixed with that of someone who is used to taking care of themself," he explained.

"Oh..." she muttered, a bit regretful that she had been so harsh. "Where are you from?"

"I'm a Ranger of the North. I'm not really from anywhere."

"A Ranger? I'm suprised we haven't met before. The elves of Rivendell and the Rangers are on good terms and Rangers often come to Rivendell."

"I know, but I have only been there once. It is a beautiful place and I found it hard to leave. I haven't been back since. That was years ago."

"Oh, I see. I've been living there for the past three years."

"Why did you leave?"

"I'm not quite sure yet. I guess it's because I want to see the world."

"The world? That's pretty general. Do you know where you want to go or what you want to do?"

Isówyn chuckled. "I really don't. It's rather funny, actually. Elrond teased me that I never knew where I wanted to go, just that I wanted to go somewhere. He called me Nethrandir."

"Little wanderer..."

She nodded, "Yes, you speak elvish?"

"A bit. I've gathered some knowledge of the language over time. Do you have any idea where you're going next?"

"The Shire. It sounds beautiful. I want to see what the halflings are like."

"I trust you've met Nob or Bob. You may find that the hobbits of the Shire are quite different than those of Bree. They're a quaint folk, with kind hearts. At least most of them."

"Have you been to the Shire?" she asked.

"Yes, multiple times. Most hobbits don't quite trust me though. I'm a protector of their lands, they just don't realize it. Whenever they see a man whose ways are different than their own, they get suspicious."

"I thought you said they were kind?"

"Oh, they are. They'll never admit that they dislike me," he chuckled. "When are you planning on heading there?"

"I was hoping to leave tomorrow morning."

"I'm actually headed that way. If you would be interested we could travel together for a while."

"That would be nice, I'll just have to warn you that I'm not alone."

"Are you traveling with a companion? Where are they?" Galennár looked around the room as if to see if her acquaintance was near.

"He's waiting outside of Bree. He doesn't like big crowds, they tend to be frightened by him."

"Oh, I see..." he said cautiously.

"Well, yes. That's to be expected though."

"And why is that?"

"Well, he's a warg..." Isówyn said hesitantly.

Galennár did a poor job of hiding his alarm. "A warg...?"

"Oh, he's friendly! Don't worry. I've known him since I was a child," she assured him.

"Oh, really? That is... interesting. How did you two meet?" he asked, finally trying a bit harder to hide his shock.

"Well, his mother attacked me when I was ten. It's a long story. Basically, I killed his mother, but he was just a pup and I couldn't just leave him. So I took care of him. We've been friends ever since. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's the truth."

Galennár took a moment to look at her. "Wow, that's remarkable..."

Isówyn blushed. "Well, I really should get some rest. I haven't slept in an actual bed for a long while. I'll see you at dawn?"

Galennár gave her a nod of confirmation. "Good night then, Isówyn."

"Good night Galennár."