Nob
A/N: I've always, always, ALWAYS wanted Nob and Sam to be friends! Hence this story. :)
Nob noticed Sam looking at the barrel of apples in the corner of the room hungrily. "You want a few for the road?" Sam jumped a little, startled, then shrugged.
"I reckon I would. I grow 'em back home for Mr. Frodo, but it's been awhile since I'd eaten one."
Nob looked at him. "You can take as much as you want. We've got a full store of 'em." Sam's eyes widened, and he took a few from the barrel unabashed.
"Do you grow them here, in Bree?"
Nob shook his head with a low laugh. "Not me, no. Nor does anyone in the chief village, I don't think. Maybe in Archet, there's orchards. I've never been even that far myself..." He stopped. Sam was eating an apple and watching Nob thoughtfully, perhaps thinking of his own travels.
"You live in the inn, then, with Mr. Butterbur?"
"I do, yes," said Nob. "Don't you live in with your master?"
It was Sam's turn to shake his head, swallowing a bite of apple. "No, not with him, but just down the road a bit. With my dad, sisters, brother's stoppin' in from time to time. Haven't you got a family, Nob?"
The Bree-hobbit nodded. "Yes, don't see them much nowadays, what with work and all, but they're fairly close by." He took an apple for himself out of the barrel, and the two hobbits ate in companionable silence.
-.-.-.-.-
A few hours later that day, Nob had got ready breakfast for the guests (he wasn't the best cook, but in his mind any hobbit could make a respectable breakfast). They had plainly enjoyed it at any rate, especially the youngest of the four, Master Took; where did he put all that food? Sam restocked his pockets with more apples because nobody seemed to mind, while the others talked among themselves. Bob and that Strider fellow went out to ready the pony. Nob had never known what to make of Strider; he'd been to the inn often enough, but somehow he'd remained mysterious.
And the pony... It was a poor beast, and Nob had never seen it before. He wondered where the notorious Ferny had gotten it from. Surely nobody would sell any creature to him? But perhaps the pony's surviving Bill Ferny was proof it could hold its own well enough in the Wild. Sam seemed to take to the bedraggled animal at once, talking to it softly and kindly, and what's more, feeding it a couple of his precious apples out of his pocket. Nob laughed to himself. He liked Sam a lot; he'd be sorry to see him go.
He had got up the courage finally, just before the guests left, to ask Sam just what exactly was going on, for Nob had been wondering about their business ever since they'd arrived.
"Where are you all even going, Sam?" he asked. Sam looked wary all of a sudden. The whole incident in the common room had probably gotten him suspicious of such questions.
"It's Mr. Frodo's business, not really mine," was all he said. Nob was still curious, but as Sam seemed reluctant to talk about it, he let the matter go. Anyway, he was sure his master knew something about it; he could ask him later. Instead, he posed another question, a little hesitantly.
"Are you coming back after?" The look on Sam's face showed plainly he hadn't thought about that for a while, if at all before.
"I don't know, to be honest, Nob. I aim to, but if Master doesn't, then I don't." Nob understood that, though he'd never traveled like Sam had.
"Come on, Sam, we're going!" called Mr. Baggins suddenly from the doorway. Sam immediately turned to leave, with a last look at the slightly smaller hobbit in front of him.
Neither knew what to say. At last Sam spoke. "I'll try and get back, Nob, though I don't rightly know what way I'll be going." Nob didn't know how to answer. He nodded. Sam hoisted his large pack up on his shoulders and followed his master.
.-.-.-.-.-
Nob was among the crowd that gathered to see the visitors off. He figured Master Butterbur wouldn't miss him right away. After all, every guest was out of the inn and along the road.
Being small even for a hobbit, Nob shoved his way through most of the townsfolk to the front of the mob. He didn't need to prick his ears to hear what was being said, or more often shouted:
"You've brought your tricks and danger to Bree, and you'd do well to take 'em away with you!"
"They'll never last a day with that Ranger."
"Look at him, hasn't washed in years, they say."
"The pony's from Ferny, I hear... Looks half-dead."
"Aye. And did you hear what happened in the inn last night?"
"Mighty queer business..."
"Me, I'm just glad they're leavin'."
Nob didn't pay too much attention to what was said. Strider anyhow looked annoyed with it, glaring at whoever spoke too loudly. Small wonder no one came too close.
The strangers, followed by the jeering crowd and a few harmless villagers, made their way towards the gate and out of Bree. Before they reached it, however, Bill Ferny, standing at his house near the end of the Road, halted them.
"Don't you know who you've taken up with?" he spat at the hobbits. "That's stick-at-naught Strider, that is, though I've heard other names not so pretty."
Strider's glare didn't seem to have an effect on Ferny. The man laughed harshly. He turned to Sam, and Nob grew tense. "And you, Sammie," Ferny leered, "don't you go mistreating my poor old pony! Pah!" He spat again, this time near Sam's feet.
The apple left Sam's hand before Nob could blink. It hit Bill Ferny in the nose, and the burly-looking man ducked behind his hedge too late. Nob tried and failed to stifle his laughter.
How was it? Review if you liked it; nothing makes me happier!
(This has been updated slightly in response to a review from Aria Breuer- many thanks for the criticism! It was most helpful.)
