Nob
The inn was busy that night, the master rushing around as fast as his stout legs would carry him, serving beer and food, greeting new visitors, and occasionally listening to a story told by the gossipers of Bree. Big and Little folk alike, it didn't matter, anyone would would love the warmth and company of the inn. Nob stood by, half-eavesdropping on an interesting and funny tale about Mr. Mugwort trying on shoes. With his other ear he listened for Master Butterbur's call; Nob was often needed. Everyone knew the master was a busy man.
Sure enough: "Nob! You slowcoach, where'd you get off to? Come get the supper ready, and make it quick!" Nob grinned, shook his head, and made off.
"Coming, sir!"
It was later in the evening, that same night. The guests had gone to their beds, or at least to their rooms, and the common room was slowly emptying as the fire died down. Mr. Butterbur called for Nob to clear the tables and went upstairs. He was indeed a very busy man, and he was anxious to get some sleep. Nob obeyed, yawning. It had been a busy day for him, too.
He had finished clearing the plates and mugs and washed the dishes, and was just heading to his own small back room on the ground floor, as hobbits preferred, when there came a sharp but soft knock on the door. Nob had good ears, and he stopped what he was doing, puzzled. No one usually arrived this late. Maybe guests off the Road? The knock came again, no mistaking it this time, much louder. Nob sighed and went to the door. He opened it.
"Good evening, sir, what-" he stopped. These weren't ordinary men. Black hoods, black cloaks, black horses in the yard. A hideous whisper came from one of them, mysterious and awful.
"Baggins," it hissed. "Baggins; where is he?"
Sudden fear ran through Nob, and he slammed the door and was running before he could think. Those Men couldn't possibly be real... he shivered. What was wrong with him? No other guest had frightened him like this, even when those strange Southerners had started coming to the inn up the Greenway a few days back.
He pounded on his master's door. "Mr. Butterbur, master!" His voice trembled. "Master!" Butterbur creaked open the door quickly and with his bleary eyes took in the shaking hobbit.
"Nob, what's the matter with you?" Nob found he couldn't speak for several seconds. "What is it? I haven't got time for this?"
At last the hobbit managed to get out a few words. "Black men, sir. At the door. They- They're asking for Baggins, sir, and I don't know-" he couldn't finish. Mr. Butterbur looked at Nob quivering in fear before him and shook his head. He put his hand on the small hobbit's shoulder and spoke quietly.
"You get on to bed now, Nob. I'll deal with 'em." Nob nodded, still too afraid to do anything else. His master went downstairs, and Nob followed, turning down the hall to his own room. He couldn't sleep for a long time, not till the heavy footsteps of Butterbur traveled back upstairs and the door creaked closed. He sighed.
His dreams were horrible that night.
So ends the first chapter! How was it? Don't hesitate to review; they make my day! More is coming!