Dru

As she held the ball Master Dimheim gave her, the strong desire to toss it in the air and catch it filled her. But she fortunately had enough self control not to do so, as she stood beside the fountain just outside the Prancing Pony.

"I should have never shown my face! What was I thinking, going in such array?" Words such as those continued to play through Dru's head as she mentally slapped herself around.

He recognized her. Claimed she seemed familiar.

She had done it. Dru went to the Harvest Ball, where she was sure she would know not a soul.

As she wriggled out of her fancy dress, she could not help but smirk a little. A Gondorian noble. That was her "costume". She knew she still had a few choice dresses and so on from when she first arrived in Bree years ago, though most of what she had, she had given away.
Her costume was amusingly ironic to her, and gave her just enough courage to truly show her face.

After standing there for a second or two more, she simply walked past the two without a word. She had not the wherewithal to address the situation yet.
She quietly asked Barliman for a bucket in which to put the glass shards from her shattered wineglass.

"Why have I not left this place yet? Why did I promise Ash I would aid her friend?" Dru asked herself these questions aloud, covering her face with her hands for a moment. Her wrists, being as weak as they were, made putting any form of pressure on anything, quite near impossible.

Dim light. Voices. Flame crackling. Heat on her face. Odd echo in whatever room she was in. Dru’s eyes were not yet open, but she could feel herself in some sort of chair. She opened her eyes, lifting her head. Three men. Why did two of them seem somewhat familiar? Where was she? Her head ached. Her side throbbed. She barely made out what they said…but the one she did not recognize was kneeling before her chair. Why was he messing with her wrists? Chains.

The cold air slammed through her lungs as she ran, and her blood seeped through her fingers as they clamped over the nasty-looking slash on her side…but she hardly noticed this. She had escaped! It was a miracle, and she truly did not recall how she managed such a feat. Nor did she care. She was running through the fields of Bree-land. Running a free woman.