Faramir and Oddberry's Misguided Adventure

This early in the morning most patrons had already left or not yet arrived. Yet, the taproom was far from empty. It’s inviting atmosphere at night had to be well prepared for during the day. Only a handful of regulars still launched on pillows and settees, enjoying a light breakfast now and warm, decidedly no longer alcoholic drinks. Meanwhile flower petals were being sweeped up, cups and glasses collected, floors scrubbed, curtains dusted off and a cool breeze had replaced the heavy scent of perfume and nightly business activities.

Faramir was awake. In fact, he had been up for a few hours. Though he was perhaps harder to spot and recognize among the others already hard at work that morning than when he and Oddberry had first met. Now clean and dressed casually in a loose, though long-sleeved and high-collared, tunic, his surprisingly long honey-colored hair tied back clumsily, his young age became much more obvious. As did the scars that already marred his face. Still, his tired eyes seemed softer, his still slightly confused smile warmer. The latter, especially, led one particular regular, not that much older, to joke that perhaps the Queen’s pup had finally fallen in love and that a long night of sweet passion had washed all his ugly bitterness away. It earned him a pillow to the face, not even a word or a glare, just the pillow, and made him laugh even harder. He hugged the pillow and grinned cheekily.

“I love you, too!”, he declared. Then he noticed the hobbit and his attention shifted from Faramir to her.

“You are the one they have been talking about all morning! You know what happened yesterday! What has he done? Who has he done it with? Do tell! I need all the details!”, he blurted out, placed the pillow next to him and motioned for Oddberry to come over and sit.

“Gellamdil”, he introduced himself. “Gell, for friends. Poet, musician and connoisseur of fine wines and expensive cheeses. Welcome to Minas Tirith, friend! You are having breakfast? Don't start with that, no mead this early! Ask Faramir for the tea, you won’t regret it, I swear. Well, that is, if you can convince him. But seeing that you were there yesterday ... perhaps you can, yes? So ... what can you tell me?”

Once Oddberry had got up and moving her hunger had rapidly intensified and the hobbitess would be the first to admit she got a serious case of tunnel vision when hungry. As such she had barely registered the presence of anyone in the taproom who wasn’t a source of food. It was only after her first few bites that she even began to notice the gentle activity around her, the sweeping, the tidying, the sounds of people laughing and joking.

It wasn’t until someone actually addressed her that she turned her attention away from her plate with a semi-confused smile. She immediately labelled this stranger, who fired words at her almost faster than she could process them, as a kindred spirit and cheerily settled at his table, snagging the cushion he had just placed down.

“You could have chosen a more hobbit-friendly table. You may have noticed I’m vertically-challenged.” She smirked self-deprecatingly as she folded her legs neatly underneath herself to gain some more height. “Oddberry of the Shire. I also like expensive cheeses. Wine, not so much.” She half-shrugged and a grin crossed her face, eyes glinting with mischief. “What can I tell… It was an evening of many misunderstandings, and I had the pleasure of being there for every gloriously awkward second!” There were worse answers to that question, that would cause far more amusement for her, but she did not have a read on her potential victim's sense of humour, so she settled for mildly befuddling.

Her giggle rang out like a little bell. “Though I think that may be a hindrance in my quest to get tea. It is not often that I find tea away from home that is actually… tea. Hence...” she raised her tankard of mead and took a good gulp. “Don’t judge me.” She glanced over where Gell had indicated Faramir was and contemplated approaching, under the guise of hunting down tea. He looked remarkably chipper, all things considered. Or she could let the mead sink in a bit… Oddberry did not consider herself a coward, but actually feeling guilty over someone she had stabbed was a new experience and one she wasn’t particularly enjoying. She turned back to her new companion and smiled. “Seems a shame to waste this glorious drink. I shall get tea once it is finished.”

“Were I expecting your company, my short new friend, I certainly would have!”, replied the young man and grinned apologetically.

“Do not be shy, you can tell me each and every one of those many misunderstandings”, he suggested after a moment. During that moment he surveyed the room, his gaze also briefly following Faramir who seemed to make it a point to ignore him. Seemed, because he had started to gather a few things that looked suspiciously like tea would soon be an option.

“You see, I am his best friend. We have grown up together, us against the whole world ... well, city, mostly... but does it matter? Side by side, like brothers! I have even written a song for him! The Jewel of Gondor! He never appreciated it... Anyway, I am his best friend. And, believe me, it is hard work. I mean, look at him! Not only does he not appreciate my art, he is as prudish as the Steward’s late grandmother. How? Have you seen his mother? She is quite the looker. Deadly, but pretty. Compared to her ...  I dare say, his taste in finery is bad. Very bad. Oddly enough, his smell isn’t. One would expect something between wet and dry dog, but ... No, no, his smell is fine. Even if he looks as if someone dragged him through the gutter. Dragged through the gutter, several times in a row. Anyway. He doesn’t drink, no wine, no mead, no ale, no nothing. Nor gamble. He never tells inappropriate jokes or whistles after a beautiful... face. Taking him out to celebrate is embarrassing! It is like taking your strict father with you after he has forbidden you to go! But ... he is brave, loyal and he is kind. It’s just ... hard to see.” Gell sighed. “He needs more fun in his life. Everything he does is always so ... grim. His captain is no better. Too much duty all the time. We are too young to be so very responsible! He needs more friends like me. Or ...” He turned to look at Oddberry. “You?” A hopeful question.

“It’s a… long story. Besides would Faramir say the same thing? I think he’s actively ignoring our existence.” Oddberry laughed before she was cut off by another flurry of words. It looked like she wouldn’t get a word in edgewise until Gell ran out of breath. When he finished she laughed again.

“I can see why he doesn’t talk, you talk enough for two.” Oddberry teased, “I must say I hadn’t actively tried to smell him to say whether he smells canine or not. Though I can see why one would assume that." The image of Faramir rolling around on the floor with his dogs the previous night popped into her mind. "I'm fairly sure at one point last night he completely forgot he was a person." Gell didn't need to know that Faramir had been drugged at that point.

“He certainly doesn’t make the… best first impression. Definitely strict overbearing elder material.” Or shadowy kidnapper. The hobbit banished the thought and grinned, spreading her arms wide with a perverse sort of pride. “I am, however, regarded as extremely irresponsible by anyone that knows me and,” her smile took a slightly evil cast, “I’m sure if both of us tried hard enough we could corrupt him into a hint of fun.”  

That would require him not avoiding you for the rest of his life, like any sensible person would.

“It is the other way round. I have to, because he never does!”, Gell defended himself with mock indignation.

Her next words caught his interest and he leaned over a little.

“Ah?”, he made, but then shook his dark, so very typically Gondorian head. “What brought that about, I wonder? For someone who tries so very hard to appear hum--”

He never finished what he had wanted to say. Faramir placing a tray in front of them startled him enough to make it clear that, once again, he had not heard his friend approach.

“That’s what I tell you!”, he breathed out. Not human at all.

Instead of greeting them Faramir placed three cups and two small bowls on the table, one empty and one containing something green, as well as what appeared to be a rather elegant and slightly exotic looking kettle filled with hot water.

Before he did anything else he also pushed a few small wrapped pieces of candy across the table and in front of Gell, perhaps in some vain hope to distract him with it, perhaps to counterbalance the tea he was about to serve. This time, however, Gell handed Oddberry half of them, which meant that he was finished soon enough to disrupt his friend again.

“One of the girls taught him”, he whispered to the hobbit. “I love watching it, it’s so calm, like watching leaves whisper and water ripple... Well, that’s technically what it is so... It's prettier when the girls do it, pretty hands and gentle smile and all ... Oh, see that?”

Again Faramir made it a point to ignore them, calmly placing not leaves but a strange looking powder into the bowl he had brought and carefully adding hot water before starting to gently whisk it into a thick, foaming liquid without any lumps or powder remaining stuck to the sides of the bowl.

“That’s dried tea leaves from the East somewhere, ground into powder. Terribly expensive, too”, Gell explained. “He never really measures it, just knows the right amount. Don’t ask me how... Did I mention expensive?”

Faramir filled one cup, added more water, stirred it slowly and then, finally, placed it in front of Oddberry.

“Hey!”, Gill protested and the other young man merely lifted an eyebrow before preparing another cup for him.

Only afterwards did he prepare one for himself and only after taking a first sip and being satisfied with the result did he finally look up and meet Oddberry’s gaze.

“Good morning.” No more. Just that. But it was a start, was it not?

The statement that Gell never finished intrigued Oddberry, and she thought back to all her questions from the previous night. Her eyes narrowed slightly, this Gell could be quite the gold-mine of information.

“At least he’s smiling, sort of. Even if he isn’t very pretty.” Oddberry whispered conspiratorially back as she gratefully accepted the sweets and tucked them away in her pocket for later. She quietly watched Faramir making tea. It was very calming to watch and reminded her of her own little tea-making ritual back home, or on a cold morning at the start of a journey. This process was a little alien to her. She had never seen the powder actually used before. She had seen the odd trader who sold it but it was always far pricier than she could afford. “Very expensive indeed.”

“Thankyou.” Oddberry smiled in thanks at Faramir as she took her first sip of the hot drink placed in front of her, wrapping her fingers around the small cup. It was a little bitter for her taste and she cast around to see if Faramir had also brought some honey along. She had a sweet tooth.

“Good morning.” Oddberry nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “How’s the leg?” A guilty grimace flickered briefly across her face and she bit her lip before deciding that this would be a good moment to resume the consumption of her breakfast.

Faramir avoided looking directly at Oddberry and when he didn’t reply to her question for quite some time, Gell did it for him: “You don’t remember a thing, do you? Whatever happened last night? It must have been amazing!”

To Oddberry he whispered: “Try it with the candy”, while Faramir, without the hobbit having to ask, got up and fetched some honey for her. Perhaps, no, very likely, also to avoid having to answer Gell’s question.

“My leg is fine, thank you”, he eventually said. He had been told to apologize to her and to thank her, but since he did not remember meeting her before or know what to apologize or thank her for he did not. Instead he pondered the situation and hoped that spending the morning with their strange guest would make him recall what had happened the night before.

“Can you be a bit more charming?”, Gell said. “Just for once? I mean, when do we have the chance to talk to someone from not only outside this boring city but from outside Gondor! Show some enthusiasm and don’t scare her away. She’s obviously the type for fun and adventures! Aren’t you itching to get out of here and do something exciting for once?”

“No”, Faramir merely replied. “Mithrandir asked to speak with you later, lady hobbit. He will be in the great library all day. It is easy to find.”

“Faramir!”, Gell protested. “My Jewel of Gondor, my favorite neighbor, my friend! Please ...? Can we not at least show her our fine city? Just a little?”

Oddberry laughed, both in surprise and relief when Faramir did not deny not remembering. This made things easier. For now. Unless infuriatingly cryptic was just his standard communication mode and he did remember something. She had expected him to have forgotten a lot, but not as much as he appeared to.

“Candy. In tea?” The hobbitess shook her head. “The only thing that a good cup of tea needs is honey. It’s not the same without.” She gratefully took the honey off Faramir and liberally spooned it into her cup, stirring well.

“I agree with Gell,” Oddberry grinned only slightly mischievously. “Gandalf can wait because I am angry with him. And the last time he said something was easy to find last night happened." She shrugged and then smiled at both of them innocently. "I think a tour of the city sounds delightful! Plus you need to help me find me find my way back to the tavern we left my pony at.” She was slightly stuffed if he didn’t remember, because she certainly had no idea of how to get back there and she wasn’t entirely certain that she wouldn’t return to find her pony sold to the highest bidder.

“Not in, to the tea!“, Gell sighed and chuckled. “You uncultivated creature!”

Faramir only smiled instead of feeling offended, watching Oddberry pour generous amounts of honey into her tea. Only when she mentioned Gandalf did he disagree:

“Show Mithrandir some respect."

“What is it with you and that frail, old fool?”, his friend asked almost immediately. “You are from the lower circles and you run with warriors now. He’s a boring scholar, what do you want with him?”

“He is more than meets the eye”, Faramir said, but Gell made a dismissive gesture.

“Who isn’t?”, he said and again Faramir smiled, even if briefly. “But honestly”, Gell added. “Next you’ll learn how to write and start collecting books? I don’t think so.”

Suddenly his friend seemed even more withdrawn and quiet than usual and Gell regretted what he had said.

“Look”, he said. “I’m sorry. But you are made for greater, more important things. I had to learn these things because of my father and it was a pain. I don’t want to inherit his business, but I have no choice. You, however, have the chance to be... to be... so much more free. Right, Oddberry?”

“We will get the horse, but nothing else. Mithrandir is waiting”, Faramir said. “It is going to rain soon.”

“The sun is shining!”, Gell objected. “You haven’t even been outside!” Turning to the hobbit he added: “Where have you left your pony?” Perhaps they could find adventure on the way there?

“The White Tree, blue door”, Faramir replied in her stead, remembering at least this detail, and Gell suddenly turned very pale.

“You cannot got here”, he whispered. “We cannot go. This is not good. This is not the adventure I had in mind. You know who...”

“Not this time of day”, Faramir interrupted him. “I take the dogs.”

“No! No, you don’t go there. No!” Gell shook his head and even leaned over the table to grab his friend’s arm before he could get up. “No, you don’t go there!”, here repeated.

“To… the tea?” Oddberry shook her head in confusion. “You Gondorians make tea complicated.”

Oddberry found it was hard to get a word in after, and considered that it was not her place. Instead she just sat and listened until directly addressed.

“There’s always a choice. For everyone.” The hobbit had little else to say. Not that she had the opportunity to. She watched the following interaction with an intrigued expression. It was beginning to explain some of the weirdness of the night before.

“You could always give me directions? Or just get me within pointing distance? Or we could just sneak back in over the roof. Im assuming the window hasn’t been blocked up since last night. What happened there? Who is there?” It was Oddberry’s turn for a slurry of words. While one of the men was horrified, and the other somber, her eyes were glimmering with excitement.

"So when your mouth tastes bitter, you eat something sweet", Gell explained. "Or the way around. Depending on what you prefer." He shrugged. "It's not from Gondor, I just paid attention. Besides, I can always mention it to get more sweets. Faramir doesn't like them anyway."

When Oddberry suggested that just giving her directions would suffice Gell immediately agreed, but Faramir shook his head.

"I will take you", he promised. "It is not far."

“They will kill him if he goes”, Gell told the hobbit the very moment his friend got up to return cups and plates to the kitchen. His mood had changed drastically and his fear, fear for his friend’s life, was very real. “This is a bad place, my small friend. A very bad place, with very bad people. People who kill. And people who are angry, very angry, at him... because he refused to do something and then took something, and they didn't get what they wanted at all. To think one of them could be his father... It all started out so well... And it was all my fault, too. I convinced him to go. They promised good, easy money, protection, a family. I just wanted for him to be happy and it seemed such a good idea at the time... until he said no and they said... well, kill him... and I don’t know how he survived, but it was bad. They have contacts, you know, not human. Dark, dangerous, terrible, with no faces and iron-clad hands.”

“Did I manage to choose the worst tavern called The White Tree in the whole city? It looked moderately… not respectable, but not three knives inside my stomach before I walked through the door bad.” Oddberry listened to Gell's explanation and shook her head. “Not human? No faces… What the... “ she dropped her head in her hands.

She took a deep breath. “I noticed he’s stubborn, so I suppose convincing him not to is a bad idea.” She pondered for a second, her good mood evaporated. “Well. I could always stab him again. That put him in a fairly amenable mood for a few hours. You can give me directions and by the time he has anything to say about it, the pony will be retrieved.” She let herself be hopeful for a second then shook her head. “No… that isn’t the best plan I’ve ever had. His mother would kill me."

She looked up at Gell. “Any bright ideas?”

"It's not the tavern's fault that the wrong people go there", Gell pointed out and crossed his arms in front of him. "I liked it just fine before. The drinks are good, the food used to be good then got bad, but the girl who makes it is sweet..."

He hugged himself and shuddered, remembering those faceless... things.

"Yes, yes, you don't believe me. Go ahead. Even Faramir says its stupid, but I know what I have seen!"

With a sigh Gell nodded at Oddberry's observation. "He wants to get your horse. Did he promise you anything yesterday? He gets like this when he has. Takes those things way too serious..." He looked at her wide eyed when she mentioned stabbing his friend. "No! No! Wait! What? Why? Why would you do that?! No... I think..." His voice now sounded very tiny and very unhappy. "We just go and hope that they don't see him? It's just the stables, right? Why would they be there?"

“I was going to teach her how to make pie properly, the one she gave me was... “ The hobbit shuddered. “I think I’ll do that another day.”

“I was more thinking ‘just my luck’ and cursing the day Gandalf decided to ask me for a favour. I can’t think of anything that fits your description but…” The hobbit shrugged. She’d seen some odd things while foraging for Gandalf’s scrolls.

“I… I can’t remember any promises. But then… I was more concerned with plotting my escape from his terrible grasp.” The hobbit shrugged with a rueful smile. “As I said, many misunderstandings.”

“It is just the stables... people don't normally lurk in stables. Maybe we could disguise him?” Oddberry suggested, “I should probably fetch my axe before we go. And make sure all my knives are… prepared.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Do you need a knife? Just in case?” She absent-mindedly reached for her mead, disappointed to find it was gone. "Damn his efficiency."

"Well, at least those horrible people get served terrible pie", Gell replied and nodded once more when Oddberry mentioned Gandalf. "He does that, you know? Another reason not to be friends with him. He is a bad influence. I don't understand why Faramir cares so much. This old man has brought nothing but trouble, each and every time! No fun. And: He never pays for hard work. Doesn't even buy a drink. He's bad company if I ever saw one."

Her mention of 'terrible grasp' made him cock his head in confusion, but for the time being he accepted it. His mind was far too occupied with what would happen next.

"Aaa...xe?", he repeated. "Knife? No! That's dangerous! People get killed for bringing weapons to... anywhere! Because they are being mistaken for people who can fight and I... Do I look like a soldier?"

"There is no need", Faramir interrupted them when he returned, very much not disguised and instead dressed exactly the same as when he and Oddberry had first met. "We are only retrieving the horse. Do not scare her needlessly."

“Old Bilbo always said Gandalf was the best thing to happen to him. So far he’s just made me swim round in half-drowned libraries for a month.” Oddberry narrowed her eyes. “He owes me a lot of drinks.”

She let out a short harsh laugh at Gell’s reaction to the mention of weapons; but softened it with a smile. “Amazingly enough I carry an axe because I do indeed know how to use it.” She then turned towards Faramir’s return. “Me scared?” She indicated Gell. “ I’m not the one quivering at the thought of a knife.” The hobbitess rose from her seat, “Speaking of knives… I’ll just be one moment.”

Oddberry moved at a quick pace towards her room where she swiftly located the specific weapons she required. Two thigh-blades, two, no one, wrist-blade (and the required leather fingerless gloves, just in case of accidental knife slippage; Oddberry did not enjoy her wrists burning), and a couple more tucked down her belt later she was ready. She grabbed the scrolls for Mithrandir and placed them in a smaller, more practical bag for running round the city. But as she turned to leave a glint in the discarded bag caught her eye. It was a long knife, one she had filched from the same mysterious room she had found the scrolls in. A strange feeling began to fill her, like it shouldn't be left behind, that it wasn't safe. On an impulse she grabbed it, and it joined the daggers on her belt. An extra weapon never hurt, and as some of these old weapons were made with banishing fell creatures in mind and there appeared to be the tiniest chance of such things at the very tavern they were visiting, it wasn't the worst idea she'd had.

Oddberry returned to the taproom with a grin. “Shall we be off then? No sense in delaying the inevitable. Also, there wouldn’t happen to be anywhere that would sell a two-inch blade on the way? I’m missing one after yesterday.” And with that she slipped out of the door, with very little idea of where she was going. Hopefully the two men would follow, and then lead.

“We will get those drinks next time we see him!”, Gell announced. Whether or not Gandalf actually owed him anything remained open to interpretation, but he certainly would share his friends’ burden when it came to drinking.

“Fear has saved more lives than arrogance”, Faramir told Oddberry when she commented on Gell’s lack of enthusiasm regarding weapons. But he also promised: “You will have your blade back.”, before he followed the other two outside. There two of his dogs joined them.

Like Gell had promised, the sun was shining, but it was still early and so the streets remained comparatively empty. Faramir picked a more direct route now than he had the night before. They were no longer trying to mislead dangerous pursuers after all. For now.

“You remember where you left it? Because I definitely don’t.” Oddberry was surprised that Faramir sounded so certain that they would find her knife. But then, perhaps he did remember after all. “It hardly matters, it’s not particularly valuable.” But it is coated in poison, and possibly not the one you thought a little voice reminded her. Despite fully believing what she had said to Barathi the night before, Oddberry wanted to double-check there had been no mistake, just for her peace of mind.

She eyed Faramir’s hounds warily as they joined them, remembering their growls and nudges from the night before. The little hobbit wasn’t entirely sure she trusted the creatures. “Somehow they seem larger in the daylight… I could ride them!” That caused a giggle to spring from her lips as she hurried to keep up with Faramir’s long strides, eyeing the city in a little awe. Even here on the lower levels it was far grander than anything in the Shire. “It is a beautiful morning.”

Oddberry was surprised by how short a time it took to reach the tavern, which now seemed quiet and dark.

“I think I can manage this next bit.” She flashed Faramir and Gell a sunny smile before hurrying towards the stables, a spring in her step, not looking to see if she had been followed. The stables seemed far less ominous now, with the morning sun streaming through the door, turning the ever present dust motes to gold. The scent of sweet hay filed her nostrils and she sighed in happiness as she searched for her pony. The hobbit was delighted to find him exactly where she had left him.

Biter nickered at her and she greeted him cheerfully, artfully dodging the shove he gave her. “Good to see you to.” She gave him a scratch behind the ear and a kiss on his pink nose before casting around for her tack, or a person to tell her where it was. She had lost track of it in her eventful evening. Finding neither, she headed for the door into the tavern itself.

"This is a small city. Your weapon will resurface somewhere and, I suppose, it will be recognizable", Faramir replied simply.

He seemed to remember that he was, at least in part, responsible for the loss of Oddberry's knife and did not agree with her evaluation of the weapon, any good weapon, not being valuable. At the same time he did not care for any more such weapons circulating freely in his neighborhood, where anyone could possibly pick it up and use it.

The dogs, while bigger in daylight, seemed less tense and more friendly now than they had been the night before. They nudged Oddberry, but not to guide her, merely to greet her, and no growl could be heard before they trotted off to walk next to their master.

"No", Faramir said, when the hobbit suggested riding, but Gell seemed to ponder the possibility for a moment.

They both agreed to wait while Oddberry fetched her pony.

The tavern, too, was far from busy this time of day. All cleaning had been seen to in the evening and only a few patrons had come buy for breakfast. Perhaps Faramir was right after all and there was nothing to worry about.

The taproom was quiet, an abrupt change from the night before and the innkeep looked up at Oddberry suspiciously.

“Didn’t expect to see you back.” He said, his attention swiftly returning to the cleaning of his bar.

“Nor did I.” Oddberry remarked, finding that she was just the tiniest bit surprised that she had got through the night relatively unscathed. “Any sign of my tack?”

He looked at her for a second and said nothing until the hobbit pulled a coin out of her purse, then he grunted and disappeared for a moment, and Odderry surveyed the room. She couldn’t help but notice two men, hidden in a far corner, watching her from beneath their hoods, whispering quietly to themselves. She didn’t recognise them but a shiver ran down her spine and the hobbit found herself wishing that Faramir’s hounds were next to her and her axe was at her back.

Just then the inkeep returned, her things in his arms, and she accepted them gratefully. “Thank you.” She indicated the two strangers with her head. “Who are they?”


“People you’d be better off forgetting about.” The inkeep's expression was grim as he returned to behind the bar and Oddberry slipped back out the door.

It was only after she had tacked Biter up that Oddberry remembered her promise to the girl, and realised she hadn’t seen her. Perhaps it was for the best. Now she knew where the place was she could return any time, when the incident was not so fresh in the tavern occupant’s minds. She led her pony out into the sunlight, flicking the reins at his nose as he tried to nibble her fingers, and re-joined her un-smiling companions.

“Mission successful!” Oddberry forced a smile onto her face as she shook off her uneasy feeling. “Where now? I am beginning to think I actually would rather like my knife back.” She had been shaken by the feeling that the men had been looking for her; she was after all, rather distinctive. And so was that knife. It was plain in itself but not many people were going to be walking around with two-inch blades. It’s not like they were immensely practical for anything other than getting something into someone’s bloodstream. She didn’t like the thought of it lying there, like a big arrow saying ‘find the person who has the twin’.

“All I know is that we went that way.” Oddberry waved her arm in the general direction they had headed over the roofs. “And the knife is somewhere in an alleyway with a few abandoned houses that are probably now sporting some very nice scorch marks.” She couldn’t help a little grin of excitement. It was beginning to be a nice little adventure, even if the reason behind it was a little anxiety-inducing.

Faramir's dogs paid little to no attention to the pony, but their master acknowledged Oddberry's successful return with a slight nod.

"Can we search for your knife far away from here?", Gell suggested. "Are you certain that you do not have lost it in a nicer place? Alleyway with abandoned houses, really?! Why not Mordor!"

"I will go", Faramir suggested. "You go and stable your horse. Gell will show you the way to the great library afterwards. We can meet there after you have spoken to Mithrandir."

"Yes", Gell agreed, but quickly reconsidered. "No! It's dangerous! You can't go alone!"

“I wasn’t the one who wanted to go into the alley with abandoned houses in the first place. That’s all on him.” Oddberry jerked a thumb at Faramir with a grin.

She was suitably appalled at Faramir’s next suggestion. “No!” Oddberry was defiant. “I agree with Gell, going alone is a terrible idea. What if the people from last night come back? I should have remembered to find the knife in the dark last night myself. And I might have left something else there.” Her poisons were all present and correct but she wasn't ruling out the possibility that something else had fallen out of her bags in the chaos. “It’s my fault that we need to go back. I’d have gone alone if I had any idea where I was!” Without waiting for a reply she turned to set off, dragging Biter behind her.

Then her mind went a full circle back to her predicament and she only stamped a large foot in anger. “And I can’t even just force you to endure my company because I don’t know where I’m going.” She laughed wryly at herself, her temporary bout of defiance dissipating.

"Why am I not surprised?", Gell sighed.

As did, surprisingly enough, Faramir. His stern features softened a little and he almost smiled at Oddberry while reaching out to gently stroke her pony's neck.

"Alright", he said, willing to appease and reassure her and Gell alike. "We will go together."

"No! You cannot go without--", Gell began to protest and interrupted himself when he realized that his friend had just agreed to their demands instead of rejecting them as he usually did. "Oh. Alright. Let's go then... ghosts don't show up in abandoned houses during the day, right?"

“Well that was easier than expected.” Oddberry was surprised by how easily Faramir was convinced. As the taller man turned away Oddberry whispered to Gell, “Did he just smile?”

She shrugged at Gell’s comment about ghosts. “I don’t know, I’ve never met a ghost to ask.”

They walked quietly through the streets and it was not long before Oddberry recognised the side of a house. “We climbed down that,” she pointed out, giving a little cheer of victory. "We might actually find what we're looking for!"

It was to be the start of a pattern. Faramir led them along the streets and Oddberry would eventually recognise something. She was surprised at how much she remembered when prompted. “This is going surprisingly well all things considered,” the hobbit remarked. Even Biter was being well-behaved and following them quietly.

Finally they emerged into an all too-familiar street, with its dilapidated houses and a large scorch mark on the ground, glass shards radiating outwards. “Well this is it!” Oddberry turned to her pony. “Stay.” She said sternly, then ruined the effect by kissing his nose again. “Good boy.”

She then smiled at her companions. “We’re looking for a blade like this one,” she flicked the remaining blade out of her sleeve briefly, then back in, “probably slightly blood-stained.” She grimaced guiltily. “It should be somewhere around here.”

And so the search began. It was remarkably hard to find a tiny knife. But then Oddberry had never been very good at finding what she was looking for. It was not long before she straightened. She could hear something. It almost sounded like… running feet? Oddberry was getting a serious case of de ja vu. “Does anyone else hear that?” Her hands dropped to the knives on her thighs.

"Yes and he has done it before, because of something you did", Gell pointed out. “It is rather disconcerting.”

Gell looked back over his shoulder when he noticed that Faramir did, before leading them around the next corner, but he could not make out anyone or anything suspicious. For a moment he had been about to believe that maybe his friend had agreed so quickly to get them to leave, but his reaction to the hobbit had suggested another possibility, one that Gell decidedly preferred.

Still, once they reached their destination he eagerly began helping her in her search. The sooner they found it the sooner they would go somewhere else. Somewhere safe and nice. Yes, he looked forward to it. So much so that only when Oddberry alerted them to the sound of running feet did he realize that Faramir had disappeared. He had simply assumed that his friend kept watch. Had he not been standing next to them only a moment ago? He had noticed no movement, heard nothing. Gone. His dogs were still there, sitting calmly where he had told them to, waiting for who knew what.

“Shit”, Gell whispered.

On the other hand, depending on who they would face, perhaps it was best not to be seen with Faramir. Though, the dogs were likely a dead giveaway for most.

"Shit", Gell repeated.