Rowan and Aragorn sat up talking into the morning as the four hobbits slept in the one normal-sized bed. All had pitched in working on the disguise of the hobbits sleeping in their beds—pillows stuffed under the blankets to create the illusion of a body. She knew it would work because it did in the movie and the book, but because Frodo hadn't put on the Ring like as expected, things could change.

They sat across from each other with a round table dividing them. She did most of the talking, answering Aragorn's questions about the 'real world' as he constantly looked out the window to monitor the street below. The more she talked, though, the more she became unsure of what was and wasn't real. She glanced at her hurt hand—if she was dreaming, she shouldn't have been able to feel pain. Neither should she have felt hunger or thirst, smell aromas, or be tired like she did right now with lack of sleep.

Multiple high-pitched screams shattered the quiet night. Rowan thought she was prepared to hear the Ringwraiths' cries, but this made her neck hairs stand on end and the blood run out of her body. Just the unnatural shrills had her terrified. Aragorn looked out the window, and she got up to look too.

Four images of men, covered from head-to-foot in long black robes, streamed out of The Prancing Pony and mounted equally black horses—the steeds had red eyes like those in the movie. They shrilled again as they rode out of Bree.

"Your plan worked," Aragorn whispered.

"Actually, it's your idea," Rowan corrected. "I just stole it from the movie and the book. So sorry for stealing it."

He gave a small smile. "It is alright."

She sat back in her chair. "That was scarier than what I saw in the movie. They were terrifying in the film, yes, but it didn't give me goose bumps or make me feel so cold."

"What are they?" Frodo suddenly asked. Rowan jumped and turned to see all four hobbits sitting up.

"They were once kings of men, until Sauron the Deceiver gave them nine rings of power," Aragorn answered. "One by one, they fell into darkness. They are the Nazgûl—Ringwraiths. Neither living nor dead. At all times, they feel the presence of the Ring; drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

***

Come early morning, they found the hobbits' room completely wrecked and nearly all horses in Bree had bolted, except for one old, half-starved pony. She had forgotten that he belonged to Bill Ferny in the book, a nasty, unlikeable guy—so ironic that he would become known as Bill and beloved by Sam. Mr. Butterbur bought him to carry their packs, in recompense for them losing their own horses.

Bill Ferny shouted taunts and insults at them as they left, and Rowan had trouble holding in a laugh when Sam threw the apple he ate at him to shut him up.

Sam turned back around, mumbling, "Waste of a good apple."

***

Their journey to Weathertop would take about seven days, across temperate wildlands, snowy landscapes, and swampy marshes. Rowan didn't too much mind the other terrain, but she hated the swamps, mainly because of the bugs that sucked blood. She considered them mosquitoes, but Sam dubbed them something else: Neekerbreekers.

The first night they made camp, she forced herself to stay awake. She feared going to sleep, thinking she would wake up on the movie set—Rowan didn't want to leave this dream yet. Aragorn weaving the tale of Gil-galad helped keep her eyes open. On the second night though, she about passed out like the hobbits as soon as they hit the ground. Training to be a stuntwoman required a lot of time and energy, so the long days of walking didn't wear her out as much, but having no sleep, plus the work did. By the third, she had rested enough so she stayed up later talking with Aragorn.

Again, their conversation mostly revolved around the 'real world'. Rowan did her best to explain things, but the Ranger had trouble understanding technology—especially the internet, smartphones, and 3-D TV.

He also saw no point in using fake weapons, so she pulled out one of her knives and bent the flexible blade—made of rubber so when she 'stabbed' an actor, it wouldn't hurt them like it appeared on screen. She tossed that knife over to him as she pulled out another one and showed that, even though firmer, it had a retractable blade.

Aragorn shook his head. "Even a dull blade can be of more use than these." He tossed the rubber knife back to her, then pulled the knife in its sheath out of his boot. "You do know how to handle proper blades, correct?"

She scoffed. "Of course, I do. I've been trained with actual blades so I could get the feel of it. When there are one-on-one fights, we use actual swords... most of the time."

"Then here." He handed her the dagger. "So, you can have defense."

Rowan thanked him for his thoughtfulness, then attached it to her hip. At a new thought, she looked up at him. "There's somewhere else we can go other than Weathertop, right?"

"I was told by Gandalf he would meet us there," Aragorn said. "Why? Is something supposed to happen?"

She nodded, looked back at the slumbering hobbits, then leaned closer. "Gandalf will not be there. The Nazgûl end up finding the hobbits and Frodo gets hurt."

"But you knew what was to happen at The Prancing Pony, only for it not to occur. What if the same is to happen there? Gandalf might be present, and Frodo is uninjured."

Rowan thought about what he said—it sounded plausible that nothing would happen. But what if... What if things happened like the book and movie anyway? She decided that they should stick to the plan in case events change again.

"But you can't leave," she told him. "In the movie, you disappear and that's when the trouble starts. I can't exactly remember how it plays out in the book."

"So, as long as I remain with the group, everything will be fine?"

She shrugged. "I hope so."

***

They reached Weathertop by midday on the seventh day. On the top of a flat hill, the ruins of Amon Sûl were crumbling stonework and statues in a circular design, and provided a panoramic view of the landscape below them. Just like what's seen in the movie, but the blackened ground, scorched by fire, wasn't. Rowan struggled to remember what had happened in the book as Aragorn looked around.

He picked up a stone, whiter and flatter than the others, and headed back to them. "There are markings on this stone: a stroke, a dot, and three more strokes." His brow furrowed as he thought. "The stroke on the left might be a G-rune, with the thin branches. So I'm assuming this stands for G3—meaning Gandalf was here three days ago and used fire to fight off the enemy." The Ranger looked up for her input.

She remembered this from the book now; she nodded. "Yes, Gandalf was here." Rowan looked pointedly at Aragorn. "I still don't think we should be here, though."

"If our lady that can see the future is uneasy about this place, so am I," Sam said.

"We passed by a dell on our way up here," Merry said. "I saw running water; we could make camp there tonight."

What he said tickled a memory, but Rowan was up for leaving Weathertop. Sleeping somewhere else should prevent the Ringwraiths from ambushing.

Aragorn took another look around, then tossed the stone back to the ground. "That may be best."

They backtracked to the small clearing and found it just as Merry said. They made a fire and ate dinner composing of berries, leftover bread from Bree, and water from the glen. Sam even pulled out his frying pan and cooked sausage, bacon, and tomatoes. Rowan felt a hundred times better being in the glade than in Weathertop.

Bored, the hobbits asked Aragorn to tell them more tales of the past. Seeming to be at ease since he smoked his pipe, the Ranger sang about Tinúviel. His voice wasn't as light and musical as Frodo's, but still pleasant to listen to.

Rowan wrapped up in her cloak and laid down, enchanted and soothed by the tale of the elf. The hobbits looked to be just as spellbound. The songs in the books were what she really missed not being in the movies—she wondered what they would've sounded like. Now she knew, and they were wonderful.

Even though something in the back of her mind told her not to lower her guard, she drifted off to sleep.