Side Note: Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Sorry this took so long to get out, but I sorta had writer's block, then I didn't have time to type it up. Chapter three will be out shortly, just need to type it.

        The nine ringwraiths stood before him, clothed in black robes, returned to full power. They had newly finished their work, and waited anxiously for their new master to inspect it. On the forge table lay nine new shining rings, glittering softly in the dim light of the forge. Set in each of them was a large diamond.
        "Well done, my friends," the man hissed. He looked each one over for any blemishes. There were none. Putting the rings carefully down on the table again, he turned toward the ringwraiths. "Go now! Should you succeed, your rewards shall be greater than you can imagine. Go!"
        Each of the ringwraiths took a ring carefully and left the room. Moments later, from the window, he could see them mounting their black horses and galloping off together, a dark band of evil.
        The man laughed quietly to himself. From his pocket he took another ring, golden and gleaming in the sunlight. It was golden, though it had no stone, and from a glance it seemed to be an ordinary ring. But already, in the heat of the forge-room, the ring was already showing elf-runes engraved upon it. He held it in his hand, and it suddenly seemed to grow bigger and heavier, and glowed of its own accord.
        "My father," he breathed softly, "Where thou has failed, I shall succeed." And gripped with a sudden, powerful desire, he slipped on the ring, vanishing from mortal sight.

        Aragorn rolled over, then sat up quietly. Warm sunlight filtered through the curtains hanging over the large windows. All was quiet. Beomer was asleep on the bed next to his. He got up, and paced quietly around the room. Beomer stirred, and rolled out of bed. He looked half-asleep in the dim light. Aragorn reached for Anduril, and buckling his sword by his side, he looked to Beomer.
        "Are you ready?" he asked.
        "Yes."
        "Then let us go to the common room for breakfast, and wait for the others."
        They walked down the spiral staircase slowly. Gandalf was already there, sitting at the same table, sipping at a hot liquid in a mug. Aragorn and Beomer sat down next to him, speaking no words of greeting,
        Finally Aragorn spoke. "Gandalf, you must have a reason to meet in Bree if the danger is in Mordor, do you not?"
        "Aye, I have brought our company to Bree, for it is here the events seem to start." Gandalf paused. "Who have you left on the throne whilst you be gone?"
        "Faramir the Chief Steward," Aragorn replied, "for he is a man of honor and can manage well the position, given his rank."
        Beomer noted, with pride, the words Aragorn had spoken of his father. He watched Aragorn, and Aragorn watched Gandalf, who, at the moment, seemed intent only in drinking the scorching liquid.
        A few early risers started coming down the stairs, sitting at tables or standing near the fireplace.
        Just then Nob came in followed by Butterbur, carrying trays laden with food: steaming hot pancakes drowned in maple syrup, crispy bacon, and poached eggs. They set the trays carefully on the table, then went back to get more food to serve other travelers.
        More guests were also beginning to wake, and soon a group gathered at a table, gossiping as usual. Some glanced at Aragorn curiously, then quickly turned away. Legolas and Gimli, followed by Faramir and Frodo, came from their rooms. Faramir quickly spoke to Legolas, and then, with Frodo, joined the crowd at the other end of the common room. Legolas and Gimli made their way over to their table.
        "The hobbits are going to check up on current gossip," said Gimli, rather disapprovingly.
        "That may prove useful," Gandalf spoke. Everyone started eating in silence. Finally, the two hobbits came, Faramir looking rather worried, and Frodo disappointed.
        "All they are talking of is the King Elessar," said Faramir, throwing a meaningful glance at Aragorn.
        "Yes," Frodo piped up, "they want to know why he at a small inn at Bree, instead of on his throne at Minas Tirith."
        "I was hoping that would not be known," Gandalf sighed. "They know not the reason, am I correct?"
        "No, we would not tell them anything," said Frodo rather mournfully, "so they told us to go away."
        Gandalf looked visibly relieved at that. He stroked his white beard thoughtfully. "Well, 'tis good they no nothing of our business. Let us eat, and be soon off."
        After breakfast, they went outside, where Nob had their horses and ponies ready, and laden with packs. Beomer looked at wonder at Gandalf's mount.
        "He is Shadowfax," Aragorn said to him. "A king of a horse. No mount that ever lived was swifter. He was bred at Rohan, a gift from the King Theoden, to the Mithirandir."
        "Come now, we shall journey first to The Shire," said Gandalf, taking the lead.
        Butterbur and Nob came out to see them off.
        "Goodbye, Gandalf, Strider. I wish you well, hoping you'll stop by at The Pony someday again," Butterbur said.
        As Nob and Butterbur watched them ride off, Nob muttered to himself, "I have a feeling they'll be gone long before we see them ride into The Pony again."

        They rode quietly eastward. Gandalf set a rather slow pace, Shadowfax walking briskly along, Aragorn, then Beomer, behind him. Legolas rode abreast of Gandalf, his fiery little elven horse jogging along impatiently, wishing to go faster. Behind Legolas came Gimli, Faramir, and Frodo, all on short shaggy ponies, trotting frantically to keep up with the larger horses' strides. They did not talk, for the most part, as the arrangement was inconvient.
        Two days passed, and they rode up to The Shire. Gandalf stopped first at Bag End. Sam opened the door.
        "Why, hello, Gandalf. Come in, everyone, Rose is preparing supper, and Merry and Pippin and their families are over."
        Gandalf accepted the invitation and everyone came into the spacious hobbit hole. Everyone sat down to a pleasant supper, with reminisces of the old days. Afterwards, Merry, Pippin, and Sam sat down in the living room to discuss matters with the company.
        "I would have it that I keep your sons in my service awhile longer," Gandalf said.
        At that, Faramir and Frodo looked at each other eagerly. They had been thinking they had come to Bad End only to be dropped off at home again. Merry noticed their eager looks and laughed quietly.
        "Remember when we were young?" he said to Pippin.
        Pippin smiled with remembrance. "Aye, and eager for adventure. I'm sure we would not have followed Frodo if we knew what we would be getting into."
        "You may keep Frodo with you, if he wishes to go." Sam was saying. "He is young, Gandalf, what use will he be of you?"
        "Ah, you are forgetting your old days, Samkin. You too were young, and stubborn, and of some use, were you not?" Gandalf smiled. "After that incident, I like to keep a couple of hobbits around when traveling. Besides, who knows, they may learn something, and come back home older and wiser."
        "Faramir may go also, then," said Pippin.
        "I would come, if you would let me," said Merry, mournfully.
        Gandalf but laughed, and said, "Nay, Meriadoc, you have had enough adventure for ten lives!"
        They stayed at Bag End for the night, Sam and Pippin giving their sons instructions about how to behave, and if a battle was going on, and not to complain… Early in the morning they left, but even that did not discourage everyone from waking and seeing them off. Frodo now wore The Sting by his side, Faramir, Pippin's own elvish blade. They had gotten more provisions for the journey.
        "Take care," said Sam, looking at Aragorn, "for I fear it will be a long journey for you, long, and hard."
        Aragorn knelt and kissed the hobbit's brow, before mounting his horse and following the rest.

        Gandalf led the company out of The Shire, but still rode east. Finally, mid-day, he stopped at a clearing in the forest, a rocky area. Dismounting, he walked around the area, as if looking for something.
        "See, look," he said, showing the company a small rock cave hidden behind the rocks. It was narrow, and seemed to lead downward, although no one could tell for sure.
        "A mining site!" cried Gimli, surprised. "I'll bet my axe on it."
        "Orcs have been here," Legolas said. "Why would they be mining something in the woods?"
        "Gold, they have been mining gold." Gandalf said, "Fresh gold was needed for their purpose, a deadly purpose."
        Suddenly all was quiet. Even the birds stopped singing. A cloud of darkness seemed to pass over the company.
        "It…we must stop them at once!" cried Aragorn, suddenly realizing what Gandalf had been hinting at. "The ringwraiths have not fallen then, they have grown stronger?"
        Gandalf nodded grimly. "Already nine new rings have been forged, by the ringwraiths themselves. Orcs are gathering again at Mordor. The fires of Mount Doom burn bright once again." He paused. "I know naught of the one who started it, but he must be a strong lord indeed, to have stirred up all that is evil."
        Aragorn suddenly sighed wearily. "We must warn the land. Let us go to Rivendell, where we can get the council of the elves."
        Frodo sighed, and then said to Faramir, "It seems to me all we do is ride from one end of the middle-earth to the other."