Dense rain scattered the pebbles on the walk leading to the Inn; darkness felt like a warm blanket around the shoulders of the woman striding toward the entrance to The Prancing Pony. Rian leaned against the archway in front of the door upon reaching it, her head protected by the hood of her cloak. She had every intention of waiting right there, away from the roarus laughter and drunken voices coming from the lively tavern, but a familiar voice called out to her.
"Rian, come inside. You'll be catching a cold any moment now, and Mister Gandalf will not be pleased in the slightest. He's due back tonight, you know." The voice wafted from the cracked door, a sliver of light piercing the evening cold.
"I know," Rian nodded, knowing Butterbur meant well. He did his best to watch out for Rian's well-being, especially with the threat of Gandalf's impending arrival. "I will come in for a bit of dinner soon."
Butterbur, who had poked his head outside the door sighed and smiled.
"I'll have a table ready near the hearth with soup and bread."
"Thank you."
Rian dug her toe into the ground. She hated being a burden on Butterbur. She hated that he felt responsible for her whenever Gandalf was gone. He had cared for her whenever she was in Bree for nearly ten years, watching out for her and making sure she ate. Having moved through so many homes in the village, it was nice to know there was always someone caring, but the way he acted made her think he didn't view her as capable, despite her age.
Once inside, Rian admitted it was nice to step out of the drizzle and sit close to the fire. The soup was hearty and the bread warm, their simplicity welcome on a rainy evening. Sometimes she regretted feeling as though Butterbur was treating her like a child, not wanting to harbor any negative feelings toward the generous innkeeper. He was only doing what Gandalf had asked, after all. But regardless of her regret, she still felt like a burden.
Gandalf was a different story. She wasn't a burden to him. No, he made her pull her weight when he took her with him on his errands across Middle Earth. The first time he took her outside of Bree he taught her how to gather wood and make a suitable fire. He, along with several Rangers who sometimes accompanied them, taught her to hunt and prepare food. She knew which plants were safe for eating and which she should leave alone. She knew how to heal basic wounds, how to re-set a broken arm, how to push through the pain of an injury and could keep going.
She didn't feel useless when she was with Gandalf or the Rangers. But useless didn't even begin to describe how she felt while spending time in Bree. Gandalf insisted she come back here whenever he was leaving on an errand he deemed "dangerous" for her. Bree was where she grew up, but it was not her home.
Rian looked around the room as she whirled her way through her thoughts of Gandalf and the Rangers. The Inn was filled this night with a somber group. The rain had doused the moods of travelers, and the men of the town came in only for a heartening drink before continuing home in the dark. Rian couldn't decide if she liked it this way best, the quiet and private feel. More often than not the main floor was bouncing with laughter and music and messy drinks, an environment Rian felt comfortable in. She would sit for hours and speak with travelers about their most recent trades, or with Rangers about their skirmishes in the west.
She had stories of her own from her travels with Gandalf and the Rangers and weeks in the Shire. The usual company loved to hear about the Hobbits and their ways. Her stories were often met with rounds of laughter and calls for more drinks, but occasionally there would be those who frowned upon her adventures, thinking a woman had no place on the roads of men or among strange shire-lings.
"No man will want to settle down with a woman always on the road," an onlooker once called from the side of the inn, interrupting one of her favorite stories about Gandalf.
"And a woman won't settle with a man who expects her to never step outside her door!" she had snidely responded.
However, she wouldn't be giving any snarky remarks or telling any exciting stories tonight. Tonight she was leaving with Gandalf. If he ever arrived.
"Mind if I take this seat?"
Rian looked up from her half-eaten bowl of soup.
"You're always welcome to sit with me, Bounta." She gave him a small smile and gestured toward the empty seat.
Bounta sat with a quick grin, leaning forward to speak to Rian in a hushed tone.
"Some of the men are saying you're expecting Gandalf tonight."
Rian rolled her eyes.
"Some of the men need to not say so much about other peoples' business."
"Yes, yes, you've said that before," He grinned, "But… is it true?"
Glancing at the door, Rian grumbled, "Yes, but he's taking his precious time getting here."
"Jewel and I will miss you, but I'm glad you'll be able to get out of here for a while." Bounta reached across the table to give Rian's hand a brief squeeze. She reciprocated the gesture, feeling a little guilty she had not stopped by his house to say farewell to Jewel and their kids.
Bounta and his family were, to an extent, Rian's family whenever she stayed in Bree. She slept and ate at the Inn, but could be found most days helping Jewel in the garden, or with her laundry, or assisting Bounta in running his trading post.
"I brought you some things you may have forgotten to pack, and the kids wanted you to have a few gifts from them as well."
He placed a sack on the table, and Rian smiled, knowing Jewel and the kids had been preparing a farewell package for her for days. Jewel and Bounta could always tell when Rian was getting ready to leave, even though she told no one.
"Thank you very much Bounta, you and your family are always so thoughtful. I will miss your cheer and kindness while I am gone."
"Just watch out for yourself! I'm sure we'll see you in a few months." He smiled once more, rising from the table.
Rian once questioned why Bounta and his family had such an affinity for her while the rest of the village residents avoided Rian, but she was grateful for them and chose not to continue to question a good thing when she had it. Other than Bounta's family, Butterbur, and the travelers who stopped at the Inn, Rian had few people in Bree she associated with. Some of that was her choice, but those who lived in the village since she was young knew of the events in her childhood. Events that struck fear and distrust in their hearts.
Rian did not mind too much. She preferred to keep to herself most of the time. It felt safer that way. Safer for her, safer for them.
As she sat in her reverie, a flash of red and orange appeared in her mind's eye. Red and orange, bright and bold and frightening. She shuddered, blinking a few times to shake the memory away.
"Good evening, Rian," the familiar voice was suddenly right over her shoulder, and Rian whipped around to see Gandalf. She stood quickly, trying to suppress the smile that sprung to her lips. Gandalf winked, setting his hat on her table.
"How are you?" Rian asked, noted the bags under his eyes. Gandalf always had bags under his eyes, but he looked especially weary tonight.
"I wish it were otherwise, Rian, but I am very tired. Lots have happened since the last time I saw you."
Rian nodded. His letter she'd received hinted as much. They gave each other a brief hug before settling across from each other.
"How is Frodo doing?"
Gandalf had been to visit the Hobbit, whom Rian had met once or twice.
"He's… all right." Gandalf's eyes looked pained for a moment. "We will need to leave first thing in the morning. Are you all packed?"
"Yes, all I will need to do is saddle Brys, and we can be off."
Gandalf nodded, content.
"Where are we going?" Rian asked, shifting in her seat, one hand fiddling with the tie on the sack Bounta had put on the table. She wondered the reason for Gandalf's reaction to her question about Frodo. Would they be going back to stay with him till the cause for worry was gone?
"Rivendell. You'll be… staying there for a while."
Rian nearly fell off her chair.
"Staying?"
"Staying."
Surprised and shocked, Rian tried to regain her composure. She'd met many elves who patrolled the borders of Rivendell. She and Gandalf often camped with them while coming and going from Bree. She took notice a while back how Gandalf always seemed to avoid staying in the Elven city of Imladris. Rian thought nothing of it until a few years back when she asked if she could stay in Rivendell for a while instead of going back to Bree after one of her excursions with the Wizard. She received a firm "No," and the issue was not discussed further. She longed many times to see the home of the Elves but knew better than to ask Gandalf again. There was something in his reply that made her feel it was strictly off-limits. Rian wondered the reason but tried not to overthink it.
"There is a lot I will need to explain to you, Rian." Gandalf looked straight into her eyes, Rian feeling distinctly like he was all at once attempting to comfort and warn. He paused, and Rian knew what was coming next. "It will have to wait until tomorrow though."
Rian pursed her lips, frustrated, and Gandalf gave a sympathetic smile.
"I'm sorry my dear, but I am tired, and what needs to be said can wait. Just know the time's come when I can finally start to give you some answers."
Gandalf stood, grabbing his hat from the table.
"I'm going to retire for the night. Goodnight Rian." He placed a hand on her shoulder before ascending the stairs to the guest rooms.
Rian let out a long breath, sitting very still while her mind raced.
Questions. Gandalf was going to answer her questions. Which questions? All of them? Some of them? So many questions had plagued her for years, but she'd pressed forward, rarely voicing them to Gandalf, but surely he knew they were there. Questions about her parents, questions about her strange abilities, questions about her future.
Rian didn't know who her parents were, and she determined long ago that she didn't want to know. She didn't want to know who left her in Gandalf's care; she assumed they hadn't wanted her in their lives. She had been passed around from home to home in Bree during the times she was not with Gandalf, eventually becoming a semi-permanent resident at The Prancing Pony when kindly Butterbur took pity on the gangly teenager. That was nearly ten years ago.
Rian was okay. Okay with having lived under strange circumstances. However, there were moments when she wished she knew her heritage, moments that seemed ever increasing as she got older.
Her abilities… Her abilities were something Gandalf rarely talked to her about. Not since she had been able to get them under control. The red and orange flash was back in her mind's eye, this time accompanied by the memory of raised voices and shouts of shock and terror. Desperately she pushed the memory to the back of her mind. She didn't want to relive that day.
However, it was that day and the things it unveiled about Rian that caused her to ask Gandalf questions about the future.
Gandalf never gave her a straight answer; she didn't expect him to. But he insinuated time after time that she had a set future. He knew much more than he let on, that was something Rian was sure of. She had what men would refer to as a destiny. One Gandalf was trying to prepare her for. It was why he let her come along with him on his errands. It was why he had her experience living with the Dunedain Rangers. She believed it was why she was not to go to Rivendell. She got the feeling Rivendell held part of her future. However, Gandalf's refusal to let her stay there meant she was not ready for that part of her future.
Until now.