The Prancing Pony had quite a wide range of people stop by, from humans, to hobbits, to dwarves, and even the occasional ranger. However, Gandalf reckoned that there was one race that they weren't quite used to having. And he was right. For when he walked into the Inn, he didn't have to search for his companion. All it took was glancing at the people to see where they were staring suspicously, and he found who he was looking for.
His companion sat at the farthest seat from prying eyes which happened to be in a darkened corner.
Gandalf couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle. She certainly isn't helping to improve the situation, he thought.
In the dark corner sat a young woman. She had on knee high black lace up boots in which her dark pants were tucked into. She wore a black long sleeve shirt which could hardly be seen do to her dark green traveling cloak. In the sheaths attached to her belt were silver twin short swords and strapped onto her back was a wicked looking curved sword, its black blade gleaming. Her bow and arrows lay on the table next to her. That appeared to be all of her weapons, but Gandalf knew that there were many more daggers hidden in her clothing.
Well, he thought with a sigh, at least she doesn't have her hood on.
As he got closer, he could see that her waist length, onyx black hair was tied back into a braid; however, a few pieces were falling out in front. And her emerald eyes were set into a fierce glare as if daring people to look at her funny. The cause of those funny looks were her distinctly pointed ears. Her eyes were still turned away from him when he sat down in the chair in front of her.
"You are late," she stated still looking away.
"Late? No, you're simply early," he replied.
She turned her glare onto him.
"Okay, maybe I'm a little late," he agreed.
"I have been waiting for hours."
"Okay, very late," he admitted.
"What is it that you want, Gandalf?" she asked.
He put on an offended face. "Why do you assume I want something? Can't I have just wanted to catch up with an old friend?"
A look of annoyance flashed across her face. "I know you, Gandalf. You never just want to chat. After decades of not seeing each other, you suddenly ask me to meet you? You want something, so just spit it out already."
He let out a sigh. "Okay, we shall do it your way. I called you here to tell you that in a few days time, I will be going to an old house of mine. And I would like you to come. There are some important things I need to discuss with you there."
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, a clear sign that she was frustrated. "So you are telling me that you made me come to this horrendous place just to tell me that you want me to meet you someplace else?"
"Precisely," he nodded.
"You are unbelievable," she muttered.
"So, can I expect that you will come?"
She sighed, "I suppose so. Where is this house of yours?"
"It's located in a town just west of here. I will put a mark on the door, so you shall have no problem finding it," he said and then stood up.
"I shall see you in five days time," he smiled, "It was wonderful seeing you again, Faedra dear."
She nodded, "I will see you then, Gandalf."
He turned away and made his way to the door.
Oh dear, he thought with a slight cringe, I do hope she doesn't kill me when she arrives and finds out what I've done.