Lords and Rangers

Chapter 1. Hungry Hobbits

As the protective darkness of night gave way to the pale light of dawn, the lines of weariness on the faces of the Hobbits became more apparent and Gandalf decided it was time to call a halt to travel for the day. Legolas disappeared to scout the path ahead whilst Aragorn quickly found a suitable place for the Fellowship to make camp.

The arduous journey south had begun to take its toll not only physically on the smaller members of the fellowship, but on the supplies as well. Yet rather than complain about the almost constant diet of vegetable soup, or if they were fortunate, the very occasional rabbit stew, Pippin and Merry always tried to find some enjoyment in the bland fare that was the best they knew Sam could contrive with the food that remained.

The two Men sat side by side on a small rise overlooking the campsite, puffing on their pipes and smiling with amusement as they listened to the light hearted banter that accompanied this particular meal time.

“Tastes like thickly sliced roast beef and gravy… “ Pippin said almost reverently as he swallowed a mouthful of the thin stew that boasted a few sinewy pieces of rabbit and in fact tasted nothing like the longed for roast dinner that he imagined.

“With lovely crisp baked potatoes and onions,” added Merry with a wistful sigh as he crunched on some wild root vegetable that Aragorn had added to the stew and which only resembled a potato or an onion in that it was round and white.

“Washed down with a large tankard of fine, dark ale,” was Gimli’s contribution. The others nodded agreement and even Frodo managed a half smile at the light blush that coloured Sam’s cheeks as the mention of ale brought the Green Dragon and Rosie to his friend’s mind.

“And fresh strawberries and cream to follow,” Sam said, recovering quickly and licking his lips as if tasting the imagined delicacy. He offered Frodo another helping of stew and a frown creased his brow when he noticed the ring bearer had hardly touched his food. “I know ‘tis not particularly appetizing, Mr Frodo, but you must eat to keep your strength up,” he whispered.

“I am sorry, Sam but I am not hungry. Take my share, all I need is some rest,” Frodo replied as he handed his almost full bowl to Sam and settled himself in his bedroll. The other Hobbits exchanged worried glances with each other then turned to Gandalf seeking reassurance that their friend would be well.

“The ring is a difficult burden to bear,” the wizard told them, although a comforting smile was all he could truthfully offer his friends knowing full well the toll it was taking on Frodo. “Now I suggest we all follow Frodo’s example and get some much needed sleep,” he added in a tone that allowed no refusal.

It was not long before the slow breathing of exhausted Hobbits, and Gimli’s loud snoring indicated they were all asleep, all except for Gandalf who silently made his way to where Aragorn and Boromir were seated.

“Whilst our friends have vivid imaginations when it comes to food, the dwindling of our supplies is nonetheless becoming a serious problem,” he said without preamble as he took a few short but soothing puffs of his pipe.

“Aye, but there is little to be had in the way of wild game or even roots and berries at this time of the year,” commented Aragorn, drawing his travel blanket closer around his shoulders against the chill in the air. He did not need to point out that it was still winter.

“If I recall correctly, on my recent journey to Imladris, I stopped at a few small villages along the way. Perhaps we should…” Boromir’s suggestion was cut short when a slight movement in the trees to his right caught his eye. A quick glance at Aragorn confirmed the ranger had seen it as well, and in barely the space of a heart, both men were on their feet, drawing their swords but relaxing almost immediately when they recognized the intruder.

“‘Tis fortunate, that Orcs are not known for their stealth, is it not? Although your response once I made my presence known was commendable,” Legolas said as he stepped into view, his eyes alight with amusement. Aragorn’s frown of displeasure at himself for being caught off guard was quickly directed towards the rather smug Elf, as was Boromir’s scowl.

“Our task is dangerous enough as it is, Legolas, it does not serve us all well to play such ill advised games,” Gandalf said, expressing his disapproval.

“I meant no harm,” the Elf apologized, accepting the admonishment with a respectful incline of his head.

“Is the way ahead safe?” Aragorn asked, his anger already abated as he resheathed his sword.

“Aye, I neither saw nor sensed any foul creatures, however, from the treetops I saw the smoke from several chimneys in the south. Perhaps it is a village from whence we may obtain the supplies we need,” he said, obviously having heard part of the conversation and completing the suggestion Boromir had been about to voice.

“How far away is it?” Aragorn asked as he considered the idea carefully.

“Three miles in the direction our path takes us, I would say,” Legolas replied.

“A distance easily and quickly travelled,” Boromir said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Secrecy regarding the whereabouts of the fellowship is vital, and neither Hobbits, Elves nor Dwarves are visitors in these parts, so it falls to Aragorn and me to deal with the villagers.”

“I agree, and I think it wise that the two of you go in case unlooked for trouble finds you, however I do see one slight problem,” Gandalf said as he cast his eyes over the two men. “I mean no offence Boromir, but I think one dressed in the finery of a lord of Gondor is likely to be easily remembered whereas Aragorn, who is well experienced in remaining unnoticed when he chooses, is usually quickly forgotten.” His words were meant as a compliment to Aragorn’s skills as a ranger who nonetheless looked slightly affronted by the notion, especially when he saw Legolas’s eyes laughing at Gandalf’s observation whilst Boromir was vainly trying to stifle his own mirth.

“That can be easily remedied, I have a spare set of clothes our elegant Steward’s son can wear that will render him ‘forgettable’ as well,” Aragorn said with a hint of sarcasm as he, Boromir and Gandalf made their way back to the campsite, leaving Legolas, who rarely slept, to continue the watch.