Disclaimers: None of the characters or places in this story are owned by myself or Elwen, all rights belong to the Tolkien Estate. No financial compensation was received, only the joy of writing this AU story. Hope you enjoy.

Medical Disclaimers: Medical procedures and cures used in this piece of fiction, are also mostly of a fictitious nature and should not be used at home. Consult a licensed medical professional before being foolish enough to try these on yourself.

Chapter: 3

Otto Singleburrow had made good time on his treasured horse for the first few hours of his journey from BagEnd, but then the rains had come making the roads a sticky quagmire that sucked at the horse’s hooves as he tried to keep his pace. With a sigh he slowed the horse to a trot. Even then the horse lost traction frequently on the slimy clay. Otto knew that the promised record speed of one day and one night was becoming more and more unlikely. After six hours of slipping, sliding and general discomfort, he rode the horse to a small glade near the road and jumped down from her back. He took a cleaning tool and began prying the clay and pebbles from her shoes, fed her some oats and carrots, gave her some water and prepared a light meal for himself. He ran a dry cloth lovingly over her flanks, speaking softly to her as he did so. He had named her Daffodil after the only hobbit he had ever loved, his late wife. She remained his closest companion, as his wife had been before her untimely demise. She nuzzled him lightly and large brown eyes looked over his pockets for an extra treat. He produced another carrot with a chuckle. She then slowly knelt down on her forelegs so that Otto could climb back into the saddle. He continued to wipe her back and sides that he could not reach from the ground. When he was done he gave her a light pat on the neck and told her again what a beauty she was and received a knicker at this as if in agreement. Otto grasped the reins and they were off again.

Otto was a fairly typical hobbit. He liked his ale and food and he had a good heart. He knew from the urgency he had seen in the wizard's eyes and demeanor, as well as Samwise's hurried explanation, that something was amiss at BagEnd. The young Mr. Frodo had been injured badly. This was mostly an assumption on Otto's part as Sam hadn't said as much, but Otto knew how devoted Sam was to his Master and when Mr. Frodo hadn't been present when Otto rode up, he knew he had guessed right. Mr. Frodo had always been right kind to him, quiet and a bit odd looking for a hobbit, but Otto had always thought well of him and been respectful. He didn't listen to the drunken chatter at the Green Dragon about him being 'cracked', 'Mad' or 'part Elvish', which always made Otto laugh. He knew the lad was just a bit quiet and reserved from time to time.

Otto continued to think about the new Master of BagEnd and old Bilbo as well as he pushed Daffodil as fast as was safe towards Bree. He was muddy and exhausted when he finally came to the gates of the city. It had taken him two full days and one and into the second night to reach his destination. 'Deplorable time', he thought to himself. He gained access without a problem and went directly to the stable. He gave the currier an extra coin to make sure Daffodil got properly cared for including a nice blanket, then made his way to the Prancing Pony.

Otto had never felt comfortable in Bree. The mix of hobbits and rough looking men living in the same village had always unnerved him. He had always felt tense and on his guard whenever he had to travel to the small city. The exception to all of this was old Butterbur. He truly liked the inn owner and enjoyed their time together at the bar swapping tales from the Shire with those of the other goings on in Bree, or even Middle Earth.

Butterbur saw him come in and quickly took his cloak and helped him up to the bar. "Otto, my dear hobbit, how have you been? What news do you bring me today, Little Master?" he asked jovially.

"I'm lookin' for a ranger named of "Strider". 'Was told he took his ale and meals here in the evenin'. 'Got me an important post for 'em. Is 'e 'er?" Otto asked, wanting to be relieved of the parcel as soon as he could.

"Aye, he's here. But you be careful about him. He's a strange one. 'Over in that corner yonder," Butterbur said with a nod of his head.

Otto swiveled around to look and a shudder ran up his spine. The man Butterbur indicated was very tall and dressed in tattered, dirty clothing. His hair hung down in a lank mop to his shoulders and his eyes... they scared Otto the most...they glinted as they looked directly at Otto. He was casually smoking his pipe and had an ale on the table in front of him. He seemed to be aware of everything in the room at once but with little, or no, effort.

"Well, guess I'd best give him his post then," Otto said with a tremor in his voice. He hopped down from the bar stool and walked slowly towards the imposing figure. As he drew closer he became more and more apprehensive. 'Butterbur must be mistaken', he thought to himself. 'This couldn't be the friend of the wizard'. He swallowed tightly and spoke. "Your pardon, sir, but would you be the ranger known as Strider?" he asked quietly.

The figure barely acknowledged being addressed. He turned slowly to scrutinize Otto. It took so long for the man to answer that Otto was sure he had not been heard. The man continued to smoke his pipe. Otto began to feel decidedly uneasy. The man was heavily armed with a sword and a wicked looking knife lay on the table. Otto fully expected to be run through for disturbing the man's peace. He started to back away, when a very fast and very strong hand shot out, capturing Otto's arm. Otto involuntarily let out a very undignified squeak, at this.

"Why do you seek him...this ranger?" he whispered gruffly.

A terrified Otto stammered, "I have an urgent post for him from the wizard Gandalf," his eyes round with fear.

"Give it to me," the man said menacingly.

"Are you he? I cannot give it to anyone but this ranger," Otto said with more bravura than he actually felt.

The man smiled then, a real smile and Otto relaxed slightly. "I am he, known as Strider, hereabouts, Ranger of the North," he said. "Sit. Eat and drink while I read my letter." Otto knew by the tone it was not a request and signaled Butterbur who brought him an ale along with a dish of thick lamb stew with vegetables, a loaf of crusty bread, some fresh fruit and a large slice of blueberry pie. The Ranger's eyebrows rose in amusement at the large meal, but he knew hobbits well, by observation only, and knew there would be little or nothing left when this halfling was done.

After Otto was comfortable he handed the letter to the Ranger and began to eat. He watched the man discreetly over his ale. Strider, after noting the seal to be Gandalf's, quickly opened the letter and read the brief message. He sat his pipe down and looked across the table at the hobbit.

"Tell me all you know. Leave nothing out," he demanded.

Otto swallowed slowly, caught by the fierce look in the Ranger's eyes. He felt very much like a mouse trapped by a cat and wanted badly to be done with this whole business, and quick. Taking a rather large gulp of his ale he said, "I was summoned to BagEnd two days and nights ago..."

"Two days and nights?" The Ranger said anxiously.

"Aye. The roads slowed me and Daffodil down to nothin'..." Otto continued.

"Your wife?" asked the Ranger.

"Me horse," said Otto with a smile that made the Ranger smile back. "She's a beauty and real fast. But the roads were slippery and rutted, so's we had to move a bit slower than usual," he explained. The Ranger nodded. "Well, Sam came and fetched me and that wizard...Gandalf, he said to ride to Bree and bring you back wid me and he'd give me two gold coins," Otto explained. "We rode almost straight through. Daffodil, she's right tired, as am I, so's if you want, I can take you back in the mornin'," he volunteered.

"No...ummm, Master?" Strider stopped, not knowing the hobbit's name.

"Singleburrow...Otto Singleburrow, at your service and your family's," he said springing lightly to his feet and giving the traditional Shire greeting.

Strider smiled. "Master Singleburrow, I will leave immediately. I cannot delay until morning. You can stay and rest," Strider said, rising quickly. Otto's face fell. Strider noticed this and pressed him, " A concern?" he asked.

"It's naught to concern you, Mr. Strider," Otto began.

"Tell me," the Ranger insisted. Since the man still made Otto a bit nervous he decided he'd better say what was on his mind.

"Mr. Gandalf promised me two gold pieces if I brought you with me to BagEnd is all, and I couldn't go tonight because Daffodil needs her rest," he said sadly. Strider couldn't help but smile widely. This hobbit was more concerned for his dear Daffodil than his own comforts and Strider had an instant respect for him. He pulled out his purse and placed two gold coins on the table.

"But sir, it were Mr. Gandalf who was to pay, not yourself. That jus' wouldn't be right." Singleburrow exclaimed.

"It is a pleasure for me to pay the promised fee," Strider smiled. "I feel much the same about my horse Galest as you do about your Daffodil. Stay and rest and be at ease. I will inform Gandalf that the transaction has been completed and well done, as well," he said.

Otto looked at the Ranger with new eyes. He wasn't really so scary looking when he smiled. He was a little worse for the wear, but Singleburrow began to think that perhaps he was this way from long years of living in the wild. He had heard tales that the Ranger's protected the borders of the Shire from ruffians and other evils, and now when he looked into this man's face, he saw gentleness behind the toughened exterior. "Thank you kindly, Mr. Strider," he said. The Ranger nodded. Singleburrow rose and although the Ranger was across the room in three strides, Otto ran and caught up with him.

Strider looked down at Otto, "Are you following me, Master Hobbit?" he inquired.

"Nay, sir. But since I know you'll be goin' to the stables, I wanted to show you my Daffodil," he grinned up at Strider.

Strider laughed at this and opened the door, stepping outside into the cold night. They walked in quiet, well... Strider walked, Otto ran. When they reached the stables Strider grabbed his gear and saddle and approached a lovely gray horse. "This is Galest," he said proudly as he stroked the neck of the horse.

"This here is me Daffodil," said Otto proudly. Strider had been expecting a pony, the kind most hobbits rode, but this was a very large roan horse.

"She's a fine horse, Master Singleburrow. If we meet again, we should discuss the merits of a union between our horses. It would yield some fine colts," he said with a smile.

Otto beamed at the praise. He watched as Strider quickly saddled the horse. The Ranger then whispered something in the horse's ear and, with a wave to Singleburrow, galloped down the muddy street to the gate. Strider tried to bring to mind everything he knew about Bilbo and his nephew. He had only met the old hobbit once or twice, and never the nephew. Bilbo did mention him frequently, as he was quite proud of the lad. He shook his head to dispel the dread he felt rising within himself. He murmured something low and sweet to Galest. Immediately the animal quickened its pace until they were fairly flying over the road towards Hobbiton. Strider prayed they would not be too late.

Now, special thanks to my wonderful reviewers:

JesusFreak- I do love to torture the poor boy, don't I but then it's so much fun to make him well again. These fics remind me of a soap opera, don't you think?

InsanelyObsessed- Elwen deserves so much of the credit with her first fantastic chapter. I just went from there. But I am so glad you are enjoying it as much as Smoke and Mirrors.

Leia Wood- Welcome, Leia! I think Gandalf has always been more bluff and blunder and is actually a deeply sympathetic hero. I can easily picture him displaying such gentleness and kindness and , therefore, great healing traits.