Tada! Two updates in a row! Woohoo! I'm currently borrowing a friend's laptop to update this, so count yourselves lucky. This will not be normal thing. Anyway, Enjoy!


Chapter 2

Morgan was the first person up the next morning. The clock proclaimed it to be around eight in the morning and, ever the early riser, she got up and wandered down to the main room. The inn keeper was already up, tidying the place in preparation for the coming day.

"Anything I can help with?" She offered.

"Oh no lass. You're a guest. Can I get yeh anything? Water? Tea?" Butterbur smiled sincerely at her.

"Just water is fine. Do you have a cook on staff?" She followed him to the kitchen and accepted the proffered mug with grace.

"Well, 'e has a family of his own you know, and 'e's not always available. But we make do. I can cook well enough meself."

"My Dad's an amazing cook. He has thousands of recipes memorized and can make even the most bland food taste wonderful," Morgan supplied hopefully.

"Is that so?"

"Yep, and he's currently out of a job," she added.

"I thought you folk were on your way home." The round man gestured to a stool and sat down on an adjacent barrel.

Morgan perched comfortably on the low stool and leaned back against the wall. "Well, we were but… Mr Butterbur, can you keep a secret?"

He chuckled, "It's just Butterbur lass. And that depends on the secret."

"I'm sure you'd never believe the mad ravings of a young girl anyway," she paused thoughtfully. "Well. What do you know of other worlds?" Morgan began.

"Other worlds?" The innkeeper echoed, intrigued. "Nothing, I should think. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well, we seem to have come from another world and ended up in this one. Our world has these amazing contraptions call cars and they can carry passengers at incredible speeds. And these things called planes, they fly in the sky and take people all over the world in only a few hours. And we can talk to anyone we want at any time, no matter how far away they are, as if they were standing right next to you, with these things called phones." Morgan was on a roll and became encouraged further upon seeing the poor man's eyes widen with awed disbelief.

"And in the other world, we were coming home from snowboarding in the mountains - that's a kind of sport - and we were on the fast road, a freeway, and there was an accident up ahead so everyone had to stop and wait for it to clear, but that would have taken hours, so we decided to take a different route and follow these back roads through the forest to go around and then we got lost and-"

The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted her boisterous tale and she glanced towards the door with chagrin. Henry was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, and looking on with a mix of mild amusement and disapproval.

"Morgan."

"Sorry Dad. I just go so into it and I think we can trust him. Asher says he's-"

"What Asher says doesn't necessarily mean it's true, Morgan." He turned to the innkeeper raised an eyebrow. "So what do you think of her story Mr. Butterbur?"

"Just Butterbur thank you. I think it's quite the tale."

"Do you believe it?"

"Is it true?"

Henry was silent.

"Dad, let's ask the rest of them what they think," Morgan tried to make amends.

"As you should have done." He turned back to the owner of the inn. "Join us for breakfast, Butterbur?"

"I'd be happy to," the man grinned. "On the condition that miss Morgan here finishes her story."

"Alright Morgan, go wake the others. Butterbur? May I assist you in making breakfast?" Henry uncrossed his arms and pushed up off the doorframe.

"If your skill is as good as your daughter claims, then I'd be honored."

By the time everyone had sat down to a breakfast of crepes, eggs, and whipped cream, Henry had succeeded in convincing the innkeeper to give him the job. Butterbur was all too happy do so, remarking, "I've never heard of food like this. It's most delicious! My inn will be a right popular place with you as cook."

"You're most welcome sir," Henry laughed. "Right. Morgan, I do believe you owe our host a story."

"Where did I leave off? Oh yes. We'd just gotten lost and the map has stopped working - it's able to tell us our location on the map - and then our truck ran out of gas - that's what powers it - and Dad and I decided to explore up the road a bit. We saw your town and brought the others here and, well, here we are."

"Indeed. You don't, by any chance, happen to know where you left this truck of yours do you? I'd dearly love to see it." The innkeeper gazed hopefully at the strange family.

The Hunters exchanged glances and Roselyn shrugged, "Might as well. We still need to get the rest of our stuff out."

"You can help carry things!" Davy informed the rotund man.

"I think we can manage quite well on our own, Davy," Asher rolled his eyes. "We packed everything up in one go, so we can unpack it in one as well."


"Right," Butterbur stated. "Folk round here have never seen people 'o your coloring before, meaning no disrespect mind you, so you should be expecting a lot a stares. I'll vouch for yeh, but until they get a taste of yer man Henry's cooking and get to know you all a bit, you'd best keep an eye out for trouble."

"Alright," Roselyn led the way out of the inn and onto the road. The party made their way back to the truck and Butterbur's eyes widened to their limit and his mouth dropped open.

The narrator realizes that a description of the vehicle in question is now in order. The truck is a 2005 Toyota Tacoma pickup truck that is glaringly red. Needless to say it contrasted starkly with the surrounding trees. Beams of sunlight fell through the trees and bounced off the reflective surfaces. It belonged to Roselyn, who loved the old thing and couldn't bare to sell it for a newer model. It had remained a faithful companion over the years and the CEO was sad to realize it would end up in disrepair in this world.

Butterbur slowly approached the vehicle and completed a circuit, appreciating the sight. "That's certainly not of this world," he agreed.

Henry hefted the cover of the bed of the truck and opened the tailgate. The innkeeper watched in fascination as the family unloaded two bags each. Henry, Roselyn, and Morgan moved the baggage behind the truck and turned to their new friend.

"Think we should hide it?" Henry asked. Maybe push it into a ditch and cover it with leaves for something?"

"Good idea. You don't want any of those bandits poking at it. I'll help you push. There's a big enough ditch about fifty yards up the road."

The four of them managed to slowly push the truck into the designated ditch while Asher turned the steering wheel to guide it to the side of the road. "Alright Asher, hop on out," Roselyn called.

Together, the six of them pushed the vehicle over the edge of the road then stood back and watched it tumble down. Roselyn somberly said a few words in memory of her favorite ride and the adults set about covering the gleaming red object from view. Once they had finished, the party hefted the bags back to the room, to the interest of the town, which was now mostly awake and entirely curious.

"They'll all be coming down come dinner time. Wanting to see the new attractions so to speak," Butterbur warned.

"I'm sure we'll be able to cope, right gang?" Henry grinned. "Butterbur! Should I get the food going?"

"Might as well. Looks like the braver souls are already heading over. Don't give away too much about that strange world of yours. They all like a good tale, but some of 'em are want to take it seriously. Could end up with an angry mob your hands if ya aren't careful."

Henry disappeared into the kitchen while the rest of them took over the biggest center table. True to Butterbur's predictions, the townsfolk started wandering in. This was due in part to the general sense of curiosity, but mostly the delicious smells wafting from the kitchens drew them over. Everyone who entered the establishment proceeded to order "whatever that stuff that smells so good is". Soon over half the town had crowded into the inn's main room, and the food started arriving at the tables.

Henry had chosen, under the constraints of limited ingredients, to make a bruschetta starter drizzled with a sweet brown vinaigrette while the rest of the meal finished cooking. The main course, which was delivered forty-five minutes after the last of the bruschetta had been devoured, consisted of baked potatoes filled with creamy chicken mac and cheese.

The narrator thinks that clarification of the meal would be a good idea, considering Bree, and indeed Middle Earth at large, does not have commercially shaped noodles ready to cook. Luckily for our cook, the townsfolk don't care much for the presentation of the food and have never even heard of macaroni, or indeed any shape of pasta, before. Henry, being a good cook, of course knows how to make pasta dough from scratch and just pinches off small pieces to boil. Which to be honest would have been more convenient if he'd had the right kind of flour and… Well nevermind that.

While Henry was busy cooking, the rest of the family had struck up a conversation with the other diners. "So you're from a country to the East?"

"Well, it's not a country so much an a sparsely inhabited wild land without any form of government." Asher replied to most of the questions as he was the expert of the group. "We came from the farthest reaches of the East, right on the Eastern shore."

"What's over there?" They asked, with shocked eagerness.

"Not much," Asher pursed his lips regretfully.

Your narrator takes this time to inform you that not much is known about the Far East, mainly because Tolkien never wrote anything concrete regarding it. There are a few maps, but those are without useful markings and most of the names are too small to read, obviously designating their unimportance. These unfortunate facts mean that Asher knows about as much about the Far East as everyone else. But of course that won't stop him from giving off the illusion that he knows everything there is to know. He's quite a condescending character all things considered. Oh but now I'm getting off topic again. As I was saying…

Asher changed the topic to the surrounding lands and asked numerable question about the area, who lived where, and milked them for any and all information they were willing to dispense.

Oh yes. The narrator regrets to realize most of you are awaiting the arrival of some characters which are not human, specifically the hobbits of Bree. Fear not readers, there are indeed hobbits currently at the inn. In fact most of them had entered into a conversation with Davy about the benefits of living in a house versus a hobbit hole. Davy, of course, can only draw off his experiences with minecraft. However, this Survivalist is skilled in equating his knowledge for the purposes of conversation with non minecraft savvy persons.

His mother would occasionally glance over from her own conversation and smile at him. She was in the process of thoroughly impressing several of the the men with her forceful personality, regaling them with tales of her work. The office dramas and deadlines seemed to amuse them and as she leaned back comfortably in her chair, completely at ease, a small amount of respect filled their eyes.

Morgan, ever the odd one out, was sitting in a corner listening to her music and watching the proceedings with a mix of vague discomfort, and boredom. Her antisocial attitude didn't seem to fit in with the other jovial patrons and she attracted more than a few stares. One of the bolder younger fellows was eyeing her speculatively and finally decided to make his move.

He slyly stole away from the conversation he'd only been half listening to and made his way lightly over to the preoccupied girl. Her eyes were downcast and her attention was on the screen of her phone so she hadn't seen him approach. Her lengthy curly hair, which was usually braided back, spilled down over her shoulders, shrouding her behind a curtain of black curls and giving her the appearance of a dark haired nymph.

The young man stood to her left and cleared his throat. She glanced up and her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you want?" She mumbled, resigning herself to the impending conversation.

"Your name is Morgan? I'm Danny."

"That's nice."

"I thought you could use a little company. Why don't you come join my table?"

"I'm good here, thanks."

"Then may I join you here?"

She shrugged, and he sat down. "You wear strange clothes," was his first remark.

"Yeah, they're called jeans. Everyone wears them back home." She kept her eyes on the screen of her phone, idly opening and closing random apps, trying to appear busy.

"And both the women and men of your home wear similar clothing?"

"Yep."

"What's that?" Danny asked curiously, pointing at her phone.

"It's a magic device that lights up and can play music."

"Really?" He sounded delighted. "I'm very fond of music. It contains music from your land does it not? Will you share it with me?"

"I don't think you'll like most of it."

"Try me."

"Fine. You asked for it." Morgan slipped the earbuds out of her ears and handed them to Danny. He tried to copy her movements in reverse but couldn't quite get the buds in correctly. She smiled wryly and adjusted them properly. Setting the volume to a lower notch, she pressed shuffle and let the first song play without checking to see what it was.

As the new sounds filled his ears Danny gave her a wide grin. "This is amazing! And you can just have the music play whenever you like, without needed instruments? How did your people manage such a thing? It is magic?"

"Yes. Very magical," Morgan rolled her eyes with a small laugh.

Danny's mouth dropped open when the first lyrics started and he watched the girl's face with an expression of eager anticipation.

Morgan glanced at the title of the song and she snorted in sudden amusement. The melodic strains of Katy Perry's I Kissed A Girl were the first taste of modern Earth music to grace the young man's ears.

"This is a strange song," he declared somewhat chagrined, knowing full well that if he complained he'd lose the victory.

"Yeah, give it here." Morgan shook her head with sardonic laugh. "I'll give you a more age appropriate song." She flipped through the her library until she found Demi Lovato's Gift of a Friend. "Try this one."

Danny liked that one much better. Once it was over he asked, "What were you listening to before?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes?"

She switched the song and leaned back watching his face. Fall Out Boy's Phoenix started playing and, though the music wasn't something Danny was used to, he claimed he liked the song better than the first two.

"Huh. Alright." Morgan shrugged, her face remaining impassive. She took one of the earbuds and started quietly mumbling the lyrics.

"Do you sing?" Danny gave voice to his question.

"Only when I'm alone."

"Will-"

"No. No way. Didn't you hear what I just said? No." The teenager crossed her arms and glared at the crestfallen young man,

"I wasn't going to ask you to sing," he sullenly replied. "I was going to ask if you'd share your music with the rest of the company."

"Oh. Well that's all right then. I'll have to ask my Mom. I don't think we're supposed to share things from our homeland."

"Then let us ask." He made him way over to Roselyn's audience with Morgan protesting behind him and promptly interrupted one of the men's questions. "Lady Roselyn," he began eloquently. "Your daughter wishes to know she may share-" At this point Morgan was furiously shaking her head no, "some music from her homeland-" The unfortunate teen's efforts grew more pronounced, "with the rest of us all." Danny finished with obvious amusement.

The crowd had heard and shouts rang out demanding "A song! A song!"

Roselyn smiled radiantly at her daughter and agreed with the general public. "Yes Morgan, why don't you play a song for these lovely people."

"Mom no. Please. Come on! Mom!" The furious whispers went ignored as the patrons' shouts grew.

"Fine!" She glared murderously at the at grinning young man, and pick a song she thought would shut him up. The first notes of the Declan Galbraith's rendition of Danny Boy rang out as the crowd fell silent.

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,

From glen to glen, and down the mountainside.

The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying.

'Tis you, 'tis you, must go and I must bide.

But come ye back, when summer's in the meadow,

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.

'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow,

Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

At this point, Danny's ears had gone red and his face flushed with humiliation. Morgan's face held a fiercely triumphant expression and the crowd laughed good naturedly. As the song played on, Danny managed to gather himself together and gave Morgan a pained glance. Once the final note of the song faded out, the audience gave an enthusiastic round of applause and demanded to know where the music had come from.

The rest of the afternoon, with Roselyn's permission, Morgan tried to explain the concept of an iPhone. Davy took what he claimed to be general permission to explain technology, to show anyone interested his Minecraft worlds. Asher continued to do research on the actual workings of Middle Earth while Henry came out of the kitchen to meet everyone and receive his compliments for the meal.

Butterbur set out to clear away the last of the plates and remarked, "I've never had a so much success just for dinner before in the history of this inn! You, Henry, are my savior. This inn has lost some of its worth over the years, but I have a feeling that with you here, people will come from all over to eat food from the best cook in Middle Earth!"

"That's high praise indeed," Henry smiled gratefully. "Untrue, but still high praise."

"Just you wait! Soon everyone in the outlying lands will praise your cooking!" Butterbur beamed.

Henry shook his head with a rueful laugh. "Hopefully I'll be able to make enough money for my family."

"You're welcome to stay here for as long as you all want, free of charge."

"Thank you, but we can pay-"

"No, I insist! The lass and the missus can help wait tables if you'd like, but it's not necessary. And I'm sure you're boys will do well under an apprenticeship- If you plan to stay that is." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Can you even get back to your own world?"

"Perhaps, but if I know anything about magic other dimensional portals, then it won't be as easy we'd hope. Maybe I'll take the kids and we'll explore around where we came through tomorrow." Henry rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"And if you don't find anything?"

"Then we'll be here, for as long as you'll have us."

The innkeeper regarded his new dark friends with approval. "There you have it then."


There you have then indeed. Tune in next week, hopefully, (or sooner perhaps) for the next installation. Reviews make me write faster!

Also, I'm currently deciding when to have Aragorn come in. Suggestions will be taken into careful consideration.