Rain poured down Merry’s face as he dashed up to the big wooden gate leading into Bree. “Hurry!” he shouted to his companions, knocking on the small door of the gate keeper. The door swung open to reveal a disgruntled pair of aggravated-looking eyes squinting into the young hobbits’.
“Whaddya here for?” the gate keeper grunted with a nasty tone obviously unhappy to be out in the storm.
“We’re travelers just passing through,” Frodo shouted above the roaring of the winds. “We need to get to the Prancing Pony Inn!”
“All right,” the gate keeper replied and the gate rolled slowly open revealing the glinting cobblestone path going into the center of the small town. The hobbits rushed between the slimy wooden gates and trudged their way down the street to the warmth of the Prancing Pony.
A commotion greeted them as the four companions trudged into the glow of the pub. As Pippin’s face brightened at the familiar tones of the small bar and restaurant. It had only been a couple weeks since the hobbits returned from their long journey and it was the first time in a while that the four hobbits got a chance to relax together.
The attitude of the group had changed. After such experiences the young hobbits no longer had their former carefree manner.
As the company picked a table in the center of the action Merry headed to the bar to get the group a couple of pints.
The conversation was solemn and surprisingly hard to carry on. The hobbits sat in silence until Merry returned with the ale.
“Ahhh,” Pippin sighed. “I missed the size of the drinks served here.”
Merry snickered and stuck his lips into the top of his foamy ale. He drank heavily before putting down his mug and grinning at his fellow half-lings. “You know,” he started, “if we are going to enjoy each other’s company at all we’re going to half to relax and loosen-up.”
“I’m sorry,” Frodo stated sullenly, “it just… well, it’s different.”
“Yeah, but we aren’t different people. We’re the same best friends that we always have been,” Sam smiled and took a sip of ale.
“So how many nights are we staying here?” Pippin looked at Merry.
“What, you think I’m the organized one?” Merry nodded to Frodo who looked down at the paper receipt he had in his lap.
“Well, we have three nights, but I am sure that if we want to stay longer we can get another night or two.” Frodo looked up to the group.
“No, I have to get back home,” Sam said before continuing. “I think three nights are enough.”
Okay, well I’m going up to make sure they took our luggage up to the hobbit suite,” Merry drained his ale and pushed his chair back. “Is anyone going to come?”
“Yeah, sure,” Frodo stood up too. “I have to bring up this bag anyway.” Frodo bent to pick up a small duffel bag and hurried after Merry who had already started towards the passage leading down to the suite.
Sam and Pippin were left in the noisy pub to clear the table and catch up with Merry and Frodo back in the room. Pippin glanced around. The busy inn had the usual group but two people caught his attention. One wiry hobbit with a splash of grayish hair pulled up into a loose ponytail sat at the back glaring through half closed eyelids; she gave him the heebie-jeebies. Her pale sea-colored eyes stared unblinking around the pub. Her face seemed to light up when she noticed Pippin and Sam, and with sudden quickness she stood and awkwardly moved to the stairs, her skinny form snapping around tables to leave the bar.
The other mystery figure that had caught Pippin’s interest was sitting at the back table shrouded in dark shadow. Peering out from under a dark cloak two navy eyes watched him. Something clicked in his memory and for a second he was sure he’d seen that face before. At noticing Pippin’s gaze he also got up slowly and moved towards the stairs. With a last glance over to the table where both Sam and Pippin sat the stranger disappeared around the corner.
Sam and Pippin looked at each other realizing that they had both seen the same thing. They hurried to take the empty mugs back to the bar before rushing down the hall to the hobbit suite.
Ì