Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or The Hobbit
~Chapter 7~
The next week or so passed in steady bliss. Bilbo and I continued to travel through the countryside, often taking the backroads. At night, we slept under the stars, content in the life of traveling.
We avoided other hobbits like the plague, determined not to be seen and ruin Bilbo's good fun. Days slowly turned into weeks. The three of us didn't have any sense of urgency, so we meandered along taking time to enjoy the scenery and to take delight in the fact that we were traveling. According to Bilbo, we were currently en route to Rivendell, where we would rest for a bit before plotting our next adventure, hopefully to the Lonely Mountain and the town of Dale.
Some weeks into our trip, we reached the outskirts of Bree. I was fine to spend the night in the woods again, but Bilbo had been cranky lately. As time went on, he began to take more and more breaks, and his hair began to grow whiter. When I mentioned skipping Bree, he told me firmly that he needed a good beer and a roaring fire and a nice, hot meal.
Who could argue with that logic?
The two of us trudged to the gate of Bree, with Rufus cheerfully trotting alongside our feet. Bilbo knocked on the gate, and we waited in the growing dusk as a small hole in the gate swung open.
"Eh? Who's there?" a greasy, sour voice called.
"Down here, good fellow!" Bilbo called in his ever-present cheerful tone, all of his crankiness gone. There was a pause, before the hole swung shut again, and the one near the bottom opened up.
"What's your business in Bree?" the man asked. His greasy grey hair hung around his face, which was darkened with dirt. He smelled like he hadn't washed in months.
"A bit of supper and a pint of good ale at the famous inn of the Prancing Pony," Bilbo replied, his mood not deterring in any way.
"What's a girl doin' with a hobbit?" he asked suspiciously. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw Rufus. "Is that...a dog?"
Rufus, always on the look-out for new friends, leaped eagerly at the small hole. The man yelped with surprise and tumbled backwards out of our sight. "Rufus!" I scolded, grabbing his makeshift collar of a piece of rope and managing to get him under control again. Rufus sent me a baleful glance, saddened at the loss of his new friend.
The man reappeared again, his face twisted with repressed anger. "Inn's down the way," he said through gritted teeth. "Sign's out front. Can't miss it." He disappeared, slamming the hole behind him, and the gate slowly opened.
"Have a nice night!" Bilbo called to him, and the three of us were on our way.
Sad as it sounded, I felt unnerved at the fact that I was around so many tall people again. Due to my short height, I fit in comfortably with the world of hobbits. Humans seemed to be giants out of one of Bilbo's tales to me at that moment, and every single one of them stared at us with wonder and suspicion, mostly at the sight of a dog trotting at our heels. Did they not have that many dogs in Middle-Earth?
We found the inn soon enough, and Bilbo promised me that they had the best ale in the whole town of Bree. "Mmm," Bilbo said as we walked through the door, immediately bombarded by the delicious smell of cooking food. The place was full but not overly crowded, and a large fire roared in the hearth. Humans, mostly men, were hanging around the bar, while a group of hobbits were sitting at a table, drinking ale, eating food, and laughing among themselves. The place was noisy, but let off the air of good humor and fun.
Following Bilbo's lead, we made our way over to the table of hobbits, while I held Rufus's collar. The hobbits looked up as we came over, and immediately greeted Bilbo as one of their own. As soon as they heard I was Bilbo's adopted niece, they accepted me with heartfelt hugs and a call for another round of ale. I quickly explained to the bartender, who I learned to be Barliman Butterbur, that I preferred cider over ale.
Hours quickly passed. To keep himself anonymous, Bilbo called himself Till Deepdelver, and I was Charlie Deepdelver. The other hobbits shared stories and sang songs, but Bilbo bested all of them when it came to sharing different songs. After a never-ending, hearty meal, I was feeling warm, sleepy, and content. Some Men had retired, and others were drinking themselves to the point of drunkenness.
It was amusing to see the differences between the two species. Hobbits, when they were drunk, became even more cheery and hearty, while Men became loud and brawdy. It wasn't a hard decision to stay near the intoxicated but yet safe hobbits.
Later in the evening, Bilbo began to tire. "Charlie, m'girl, I'm turning in for the night," he said to me, burping a little. "Don't stay up too late, mind! Off early in the morning! Long journey to go!"
"Will do, Uncle Till," I replied, giggling as I kissed him on the cheek and sent him off. Rufus was napping in front of the fire, so I positioned myself in my chair to rest my feet next to his head. Whuffing a greeting, Rufus snuggled into my boot and relaxed again. Smiling, I stared into the fire, sipping my fourth mug of cider.
The room began to slowly empty, and soon it was only me, Rufus, and a couple of snoring drunkards in the room. Butterbur was in the kitchen, helping with the washing up. Blinking the sleepiness away from my eyes, I sighed, deciding that I should turn in.
The next day dawned bright and early, and the three of us set off again, loaded with food and good cheer. I could tell that Bilbo had wanted to stay a bit longer, and I felt guilty, but the outdoors were calling to me. The thrill of adventure still hadn't worn off and my feet were itching to get back on the road. Bilbo compromised by making me assure him that we would stay at the very least a month and a half at Rivendell before heading to Lonely Mountain and the town of Dale. I accepted the compromise.
We took the main road and joined over cheerful travelers heading towards the Misty Mountains. Bilbo and I struck up the friendly company of a Man called Thicket that strongly reminded me of the Crocodile Hunter back in Earth. He told us that the was heading for Rohan, then traveling on to Gondor.
Another week passed in the same fashion. Eventually, we had to say goodbye to Thicket and continue a different route than the main road. Time passed again as we walked, and our pace gradually slowed. There was a noticeable difference to Bilbo. He was getting older than I ever remembered him to be. Considering in how good of health he had been when we left the Shire, I was suspicious and concerned about the change in age. When I tried to question Bilbo about it, he brushed me off.
According to Bilbo's estimate, we were about two days time away from Rivendell when it happened. The sound of hooves faintly filled the air. Rufus's ears stood up, and he stared into the woods, before barking excitedly, but stayed where he was. As the hooves came closer, I could also hear the faint jingling of bells.
"Bilbo?" I asked in confusion, but he only grinned.
"A friend! From Rivendell!" As soon as he said that, the rider came into view.
The horse was tall, and a magnificent white color. The rider was wearing a dark cloak, but the hood was thrown back, allowing us to see his golden hair. The rider stopped by us and dismounted. His blue eyes were bright with knowledge and age, but yet still held a youthfulness to him. He was rather tall, and seemed to move with an inhuman grace. He was beautiful, and I noticed excitedly that he had pointed ears. My first elf!
"Well met, Bilbo Baggins!" the elf exclaimed in a ringing voice. "It has been too long." He turned his eyes to me, and raised a perfect eyebrow slightly in surprise. "What is this? A human girl, and a dog?"
"Charlie Baggins, at your service!" I replied, finding my voice at last. "Bilbo's adopted niece. And this is Rufus." Said dog was already sniffing around the elf, but to my surprise he didn't jump on him. Instead, Rufus seemed to be treating him with an amount of respect, like he did with my dad.
The elf laughed slightly, extending a hand to Rufus, who eagerly sniffed it. He turned to me again. "Well met, then, Charlie Baggins and Rufus! I am Glorfindel of the House of Gondolin!" He looked at Bilbo. "You are straying, my friend. Have you been gone too long?" he teased.
Bilbo snorted. "Not at all! I was merely testing your knowledge to see if your mind was slipping. A few thousand years can do that, you know! I am 111 years old, and still in perfect health and state of mind, thank you very much!"
While the two friends bickered back and forth for a little bit longer, I tried to sort through my mind where I had heard Glorfindel's name before. Had Bilbo mentioned him? That's probably what it was, I thought, just as Glorfindel finished an argument with Bilbo about him riding the horse, who I learned to be Asfaloth.
Glorfindel said something to Asfaloth in a different language, and the horse turned and trotted the way that he had come. "Is that the elven language?" I asked, intrigued, as we started walking.
Glorfindel turned his bright eyes to me. "It is indeed, Charlie Baggins. Do you speak it? I know that Bilbo does."
Bilbo chuckled. "Oh, I speak some of it! Still learning, there. Frodo's becoming quite the speaker of it, though! Charlie here, however." He shook his head in mock sadness. "More of the adventurous type. Five years in the Shire, and already ready for an adventure!"
"I love the Shire, but you can only steal Farmer Maggot's vegetables so many times without losing the feeling of danger! Especially when that farmer's your friend!" I retorted indignantly.
"But what about annoying the Sackville-Bagginses? Oh, yes! Some of my best memories!" Bilbo laughed heartily. "I am still curious as to how you thought of dying Lobelia's hair bright green! Mind you, very entertaining results in the end."
Glorfindel chuckled, listening in on our conversation. "You will get along fine with a friend of mine," he commented, glancing at me. "He is quite the troublemaker, Adasser!"
"I'm not a troublemaker!" I protested. "I was only entertaining a friend."
Bilbo snorted. "My pipe!"
"I was! It was Pippin that was bored, I merely suggested that we dye Lobelia's hair green with that dye that Iris gave me for clothes! I didn't know that it would stay for over a year and a half!" I paused, considering. "Though, I'm not really sorry about it. She was a mean old geezer-"
"I'm hungry! Let's eat!" Bilbo interrupted. I glanced up at our elvish companion to see his face glowing with amusement. Smiling slightly, I sat down on a log, accepting the food that Bilbo handed to me, while he sat down heavily on a stump nearby. Nibbling, I looked around, admiring the beauty of the forest. It was so different from the Shire here, but yet I liked it.
"How much farther to Rivendell did you say?" I asked Glorfindel.
"About two days walking," he replied, shifting his gaze to me.
"Thanks," I said, going back to my food. Two days. Only two days until I could set sights on the beautiful elven city that Bilbo frequently sang praises about. Two days with my adoptive uncle and dozy dog. Two days with our newest companion, the elf Glorfindel.
A/N
Oh my gatos! I apologize for the wait, my muse for this story temporarily left on a nice, long exotic trip to the Caribbean, and neglected to invite me along. She only just got back, flaunting all of her adventures to me. I wanted to go. :(
Anywhoo, yes! Glorfindel's finally in the story! Did I do a good job in introducing him? The romance is going to be gradual, so I decided to start it off as just friends. Mostly. Maybe. We'll see. xD
Hopefully the next chapter won't take another two months xP
Review please~!
~Eva Sirico~
