He sat quietly in the shadows. His pipe was long and intricate, but that isn't what caught my eye. His tankard, long and full, looked as if it hadn't been touched. He looked as if he were waiting for someone. He was aware of everything, and disregarded nothing.
He didn't look like the type to pry into matters, indeed he looked indifferent, and yet at the same time he seemed to know everything about everyone. A dark green cloak, worn and weathered, was draped over his long, broad shoulders. The room was hot, and hotter still beneath his gaze. His hood overshadowed his face, but I could see his eyes. He made me feel uneasy.
His boots were muddied and his legs were crossed. At first, he appeared to be relaxed and set-back, but after a while I noticed that although his weight was placed in a comfortable position, he was sitting alert, waiting. I'll bet he could have jumped up in a second if he wanted to. He never took his eyes off me.
Butterbur doesn't know much about him. He says he's gone for a long time and then shows up, or only gone for a little while. You couldn't call him a 'regular' but he was there every now and then. The old innkeeper didn't know his real name, but he's says he's known around here as Strider.
Strider. Under the stare of his keen and alert gaze I felt rather uncomfortable. Like he knew that my name wasn't Frodo Underhill. Like he knew Gandalf had sent me. Like he knew I was afraid. Like he knew I was hunted. I didn't know if that was comforting or not. Here was Sam, drinking away and chatting with Merry, and Pippin telling funny stories, and I knew that I couldn't endanger them, not one, by telling them all about my quest.
It would be nice for someone to know that I wasn't a coward, and although I don't always feel brave, I remember that courage is not the absence of fear. It's the willingness to overcome it. I am still afraid. Very afraid. But can I confront it? If only I could talk to someone. But Gandalf wasn't here and I didn't know when he might arrive or if I should stay. But a stranger? I knew I couldn't trust a stranger, and it was one thing to long for someone to understand, and another for someone to know all about you and you not know a thing about them.
I buried my head in my hands, still uneasy as I felt that Strider's gaze had not lifted. The weight of the Ring was heavy, and his eyes heavier still. Was I brave? Should I wait for the wizard? Should I continue my journey… alone? My thoughts broke, as I looked up and noticed that he had gestured for me to come up and sit by him. I fingered the Ring in my pocket uneasily.
I didn't know who he was, but I knew, even before he spoke, that he was more than he appeared. I wouldn't directly ask him, but I was curious. Who was this man?
I decided to find out.
