Author's note: I suppose my cheerful note would be worrying. I'm sure
you'll be more worried when you read this cliffhanger.
***
Elessar was mostly healed as they rode into Bree. The gatekeeper had been a little reluctant about letting them in, but he recognised Elessar. They rode through the streets to the Prancing Pony and Elessar noticed both of his companions looking round suspiciously. He could understand it, after Minas Tirith Bree certainly looked as though it hosted a thousand dangerous men.
A hobbit came out of the door of the Pony to take their horses. Elessar had to hide a laugh at Parlond's expression. He had never seen a hobbit before, and the sight shocked him. Elessar caught Sal's eye and grinned. Sal grinned back.
As they went into the main room of the Pony, they were greeted cheerfully by the innkeeper who appeared happily ignorant of the importance of the new arrivals.
"Welcome, welcome, are you looking for accommodation?"
"Indeed we are," Elessar replied, "along with a hot supper and some of your fine ale."
Suddenly Butterbur recognised him. "Strider? Well, it's been a long time since you were here. Off in foreign parts dealing with strange folk the rumours have been saying. Well, it's good that you're back here among decent folk again."
Elessar saw the look of fury on Parlond's face and quickly placed a hand on his arm. "Peace," he said quietly and then turned to Butterbur, "I think you shouldn't speak so quickly of foreign folk while you have some under your roof."
"I'm sorry, I meant no offence," Butterbur said hastily, leading the three travellers through to a private parlour. Once he had gone again, Parlond practically exploded.
"How dare he speak with such disrespect?!"
"He is a simple man," Elessar said calmly, "mistrustful of anything outside his knowledge. There are many people like him, in Gondor as much as Bree. He's a good man and doesn't mean offence." He sat down on one of the comfortable chairs. Even the short walk had made his feet hurt, and he was glad to take the weight off them.
"He called you Strider! What way is that to address a king?" Elessar couldn't help laughing at that.
"If you would strike someone down for calling me Strider then you will have to kill some of Gondor's greatest heroes," he said, "for that is the name the hobbits know me by."
The flush of anger on Parlond's face quickly changed to embarrassment.
"I apologise," he said, "I spoke out of turn."
"Don't bother apologising," Sal said, "he gets sick of people bowing and scraping all the time."
"True enough," Elessar said, "having someone speak to me as you just did, or as Sal is constantly doing," he shot Sal a mock glare, "can make a refreshing change." Sal had certainly relaxed on the trip, and his nightmares had lessened. Though he had on occasion woken them with his cries each time his panicked state lasted a shorter time. Elessar began to think that whatever it was that caused the nightmares was fading. Sal's attitude had become more the one Elessar was used to, and he laughed and joked far more than he fell into silent thought.
Butterbur and the hobbit came in with their supper and the three travellers had a pleasant meal, content to continue their journey to the Shire the next day.
***
They rode up to the Brandywine Bridge, which was barred by a gate. This surprised Elessar, since their had been no gate when he had last been here, though admittedly it was a long time ago. He dismounted and, handing his reins to Sal, knocked on the gate.
"What do you want?" a voice demanded, and a small doorway opened in the gate. A hobbit emerged, glaring at the three men.
"To enter the Shire," Elessar replied.
"We don't want Big Folk in our land," the hobbit said.
"Our plans our to travel to the Shire, and I don't feel much like changing them."
"We won't let you in! We'll fight you if we have to!" The scene was rather comical, with one small hobbit threatening three armed men, but Elessar kept his face straight. Parlond was looking angry, but Sal touched his arm and shook his head.
"How many of you are there?" Elessar inquired.
"Ten."
"Ten against one? That's hardly an equal fight."
"Perhaps Parlond and I should join in and make it twelve against one," Sal suggested, "That would be more even, though I still wouldn't like our chances." Elessar could see the hobbit getting confused by this, so Sal explained.
"You do realised you're talking to the greatest swordsman in Gondor and one who is generally regarded as the second bravest hero of the Great War?" The hobbit back slightly through the door, and looked ready to sling it shut in a moment.
"We'll still fight you," he said, with a tremble in his voice that denied his words.
"I'd rather prefer not to have to hurt anyone," Elessar said, "is there anyone we could talk to who might be considered in charge? The Thain? The Master of Buckland? Perhaps the Mayor?"
"I know what they'd say. No Big Folk are allowed in the Shire."
"What's going on here?" The voice came from behind the gate, and Elessar recognised it immediately. He glanced at Sal, who was smiling as well.
The hobbit turned to the new arrival, "These Big Folk are trying to get into the Shire." Another hobbit stepped up to the door and looked through. Surprisingly for a hobbit, he was wearing a soldier's uniform in black and silver, and a silver brooch shaped like a tree was pinned to his chest. He paused for a moment, taking in the three men at the gate.
"Peregrin Took!" Elessar snapped in a fierce tone, "You forget your place!" Pippin dropped instantly to his knee, bowing low as he did so. At that moment, Parlond shifted, and his cloak fell aside to reveal a uniform identical to the one Pippin was wearing except for the size.
"I apologise, my liege," Pippin said in an almost servile tone. He looked up, and unseen to the hobbit at the gate, grinned widely. It was all Elessar could do to keep his expression harsh as he saw the astonished look on the other hobbit's face. Some others had come to the gate now and were looking through.
"How may I serve, my lord?" Pippin asked.
"By getting off your knees and letting us in!"
"At once, my lord." Pippin's grin had disappeared as he dove through the door and pulled the gate open, so the hobbits gathered only saw one of the most respected and brave of the Shirefolk acting as a timid servant. True to his name, Elessar strode through the open gates. Sal and Parlond dismounted and walked behind him, leading the horses.
"It's great to see you, again," Pippin said to Sal as he passed, allowing himself a moment to grin.
"And you, Pip." Both knew that the curious hobbits would be listening, and know that those entering were friends.
"Salafir! Peregrin!" Elessar called sharply, and they hurried their pace to keep up with him. They realised why soon enough, as Elessar burst out laughing the moment they were out of earshot of the gate. He was unable to hold it in any longer, and the others quickly joined him in hysterics. Even Parlond laughed, and he didn't understand the joke as the others did.
They reached Bag End quickly enough. Pippin said that he and Merry were both staying there at the moment. In the garden a young girl was sitting weeding a flowerbed and looking perfectly contented about it. Beside her a toddler was sitting on the grass looking less happy about the situation. The toddler was of that age when sex was indeterminate, and just sat sulking, whacking the ground with a stick.
"Hello," said the girl, getting to her feet. She brushed down her dirty dress rather self-consciously. "If you're looking for my father he isn't in at the moment, but you can wait inside." The girl was full of politeness. Elessar had half-expected her to be frightened, but perhaps the sight of Pippin standing beside them took the edge off the fear. There was no trace of it in her eyes at any rate.
She went to the door and called inside. "Frodo! Frodo!" The name shocked Elessar for a moment, but it was a boy who answered the call, and he almost laughed at his stupidity. What else would Sam call a son? "Can you sort out the horses?" the girl said, and then picked up the toddler. Pippin went with Frodo to take care of the horses, and the three men followed the girl inside.
"Oh," she said suddenly, standing in the hallway, "I'm forgetting my manners." She gave a courtesy, surprisingly graceful given the child in her arms, "My name is Elanor Gamgee."
"I am Elessar, though your father knows me better as Strider. These are my friends Sal and Parlond."
"I am pleased to meet you," Elanor said.
"And I you. And I thought your manners were impeccable." Elanor blushed slightly, and Elessar guessed she had inherited her father's shy nature as well as his love of gardens.
Elanor's good manners continued as she prepared a light meal for them. Light by hobbit standards at least, and the three men were full at the end. The toddler was introduced as Tolman, and there were a few other children running around the hobbit hole who weren't still for long enough to be introduced.
Sam returned shortly with Merry and Rose. Rose said she was pleased to meet them, and then left them alone, taking Elanor and Tolman with her. Elessar listened cheerfully to the tales of the Shire that the hobbits told, content to wait his turn to recount their adventures. He wasn't particularly anxious to relive recent experiences.
Pippin described what had happened at the gate, and both Sam and Merry joined in the laughter. "Now they will be guessing for months who you are," Pippin laughed, "and I don't they'll even get close." The conversation went on well into the night, but then Rose came in and insisted they all get to bed. She fussed over the three men like a mother hen, and again Elessar had to struggle not to laugh.
***
Sal was laughing, though he couldn't quite remember the joke. Something about Elessar and hobbit guards. He was laughing still, but suddenly it didn't seem as though he was the one laughing. Someone was laughing through him. Panic and fear rose up inside him, but the laugh continued, almost seemed to increase. He felt his hand move towards fortune, and tried to stop it. His body didn't want to obey his commands.
"No! No!" He tried to cry, but his shouts only echoed inside his mind.
There was Elessar standing in front of him. Sal tried to call out to him, to warn him, but Elessar stood there unaware of the danger he was in.
'No!' Sal cried silently, but Elessar couldn't hear him. Sal felt his arm move, and tried desperately to hold it still. It didn't work though, and Sal watched helplessly as Elessar died by his hand.
He sat up, suddenly awake, in the bed Rose had prepared for him, and stared about him with eyes that burned red.
***
Author's note: And the evil cliffhangers return. Review, or else.
***
Elessar was mostly healed as they rode into Bree. The gatekeeper had been a little reluctant about letting them in, but he recognised Elessar. They rode through the streets to the Prancing Pony and Elessar noticed both of his companions looking round suspiciously. He could understand it, after Minas Tirith Bree certainly looked as though it hosted a thousand dangerous men.
A hobbit came out of the door of the Pony to take their horses. Elessar had to hide a laugh at Parlond's expression. He had never seen a hobbit before, and the sight shocked him. Elessar caught Sal's eye and grinned. Sal grinned back.
As they went into the main room of the Pony, they were greeted cheerfully by the innkeeper who appeared happily ignorant of the importance of the new arrivals.
"Welcome, welcome, are you looking for accommodation?"
"Indeed we are," Elessar replied, "along with a hot supper and some of your fine ale."
Suddenly Butterbur recognised him. "Strider? Well, it's been a long time since you were here. Off in foreign parts dealing with strange folk the rumours have been saying. Well, it's good that you're back here among decent folk again."
Elessar saw the look of fury on Parlond's face and quickly placed a hand on his arm. "Peace," he said quietly and then turned to Butterbur, "I think you shouldn't speak so quickly of foreign folk while you have some under your roof."
"I'm sorry, I meant no offence," Butterbur said hastily, leading the three travellers through to a private parlour. Once he had gone again, Parlond practically exploded.
"How dare he speak with such disrespect?!"
"He is a simple man," Elessar said calmly, "mistrustful of anything outside his knowledge. There are many people like him, in Gondor as much as Bree. He's a good man and doesn't mean offence." He sat down on one of the comfortable chairs. Even the short walk had made his feet hurt, and he was glad to take the weight off them.
"He called you Strider! What way is that to address a king?" Elessar couldn't help laughing at that.
"If you would strike someone down for calling me Strider then you will have to kill some of Gondor's greatest heroes," he said, "for that is the name the hobbits know me by."
The flush of anger on Parlond's face quickly changed to embarrassment.
"I apologise," he said, "I spoke out of turn."
"Don't bother apologising," Sal said, "he gets sick of people bowing and scraping all the time."
"True enough," Elessar said, "having someone speak to me as you just did, or as Sal is constantly doing," he shot Sal a mock glare, "can make a refreshing change." Sal had certainly relaxed on the trip, and his nightmares had lessened. Though he had on occasion woken them with his cries each time his panicked state lasted a shorter time. Elessar began to think that whatever it was that caused the nightmares was fading. Sal's attitude had become more the one Elessar was used to, and he laughed and joked far more than he fell into silent thought.
Butterbur and the hobbit came in with their supper and the three travellers had a pleasant meal, content to continue their journey to the Shire the next day.
***
They rode up to the Brandywine Bridge, which was barred by a gate. This surprised Elessar, since their had been no gate when he had last been here, though admittedly it was a long time ago. He dismounted and, handing his reins to Sal, knocked on the gate.
"What do you want?" a voice demanded, and a small doorway opened in the gate. A hobbit emerged, glaring at the three men.
"To enter the Shire," Elessar replied.
"We don't want Big Folk in our land," the hobbit said.
"Our plans our to travel to the Shire, and I don't feel much like changing them."
"We won't let you in! We'll fight you if we have to!" The scene was rather comical, with one small hobbit threatening three armed men, but Elessar kept his face straight. Parlond was looking angry, but Sal touched his arm and shook his head.
"How many of you are there?" Elessar inquired.
"Ten."
"Ten against one? That's hardly an equal fight."
"Perhaps Parlond and I should join in and make it twelve against one," Sal suggested, "That would be more even, though I still wouldn't like our chances." Elessar could see the hobbit getting confused by this, so Sal explained.
"You do realised you're talking to the greatest swordsman in Gondor and one who is generally regarded as the second bravest hero of the Great War?" The hobbit back slightly through the door, and looked ready to sling it shut in a moment.
"We'll still fight you," he said, with a tremble in his voice that denied his words.
"I'd rather prefer not to have to hurt anyone," Elessar said, "is there anyone we could talk to who might be considered in charge? The Thain? The Master of Buckland? Perhaps the Mayor?"
"I know what they'd say. No Big Folk are allowed in the Shire."
"What's going on here?" The voice came from behind the gate, and Elessar recognised it immediately. He glanced at Sal, who was smiling as well.
The hobbit turned to the new arrival, "These Big Folk are trying to get into the Shire." Another hobbit stepped up to the door and looked through. Surprisingly for a hobbit, he was wearing a soldier's uniform in black and silver, and a silver brooch shaped like a tree was pinned to his chest. He paused for a moment, taking in the three men at the gate.
"Peregrin Took!" Elessar snapped in a fierce tone, "You forget your place!" Pippin dropped instantly to his knee, bowing low as he did so. At that moment, Parlond shifted, and his cloak fell aside to reveal a uniform identical to the one Pippin was wearing except for the size.
"I apologise, my liege," Pippin said in an almost servile tone. He looked up, and unseen to the hobbit at the gate, grinned widely. It was all Elessar could do to keep his expression harsh as he saw the astonished look on the other hobbit's face. Some others had come to the gate now and were looking through.
"How may I serve, my lord?" Pippin asked.
"By getting off your knees and letting us in!"
"At once, my lord." Pippin's grin had disappeared as he dove through the door and pulled the gate open, so the hobbits gathered only saw one of the most respected and brave of the Shirefolk acting as a timid servant. True to his name, Elessar strode through the open gates. Sal and Parlond dismounted and walked behind him, leading the horses.
"It's great to see you, again," Pippin said to Sal as he passed, allowing himself a moment to grin.
"And you, Pip." Both knew that the curious hobbits would be listening, and know that those entering were friends.
"Salafir! Peregrin!" Elessar called sharply, and they hurried their pace to keep up with him. They realised why soon enough, as Elessar burst out laughing the moment they were out of earshot of the gate. He was unable to hold it in any longer, and the others quickly joined him in hysterics. Even Parlond laughed, and he didn't understand the joke as the others did.
They reached Bag End quickly enough. Pippin said that he and Merry were both staying there at the moment. In the garden a young girl was sitting weeding a flowerbed and looking perfectly contented about it. Beside her a toddler was sitting on the grass looking less happy about the situation. The toddler was of that age when sex was indeterminate, and just sat sulking, whacking the ground with a stick.
"Hello," said the girl, getting to her feet. She brushed down her dirty dress rather self-consciously. "If you're looking for my father he isn't in at the moment, but you can wait inside." The girl was full of politeness. Elessar had half-expected her to be frightened, but perhaps the sight of Pippin standing beside them took the edge off the fear. There was no trace of it in her eyes at any rate.
She went to the door and called inside. "Frodo! Frodo!" The name shocked Elessar for a moment, but it was a boy who answered the call, and he almost laughed at his stupidity. What else would Sam call a son? "Can you sort out the horses?" the girl said, and then picked up the toddler. Pippin went with Frodo to take care of the horses, and the three men followed the girl inside.
"Oh," she said suddenly, standing in the hallway, "I'm forgetting my manners." She gave a courtesy, surprisingly graceful given the child in her arms, "My name is Elanor Gamgee."
"I am Elessar, though your father knows me better as Strider. These are my friends Sal and Parlond."
"I am pleased to meet you," Elanor said.
"And I you. And I thought your manners were impeccable." Elanor blushed slightly, and Elessar guessed she had inherited her father's shy nature as well as his love of gardens.
Elanor's good manners continued as she prepared a light meal for them. Light by hobbit standards at least, and the three men were full at the end. The toddler was introduced as Tolman, and there were a few other children running around the hobbit hole who weren't still for long enough to be introduced.
Sam returned shortly with Merry and Rose. Rose said she was pleased to meet them, and then left them alone, taking Elanor and Tolman with her. Elessar listened cheerfully to the tales of the Shire that the hobbits told, content to wait his turn to recount their adventures. He wasn't particularly anxious to relive recent experiences.
Pippin described what had happened at the gate, and both Sam and Merry joined in the laughter. "Now they will be guessing for months who you are," Pippin laughed, "and I don't they'll even get close." The conversation went on well into the night, but then Rose came in and insisted they all get to bed. She fussed over the three men like a mother hen, and again Elessar had to struggle not to laugh.
***
Sal was laughing, though he couldn't quite remember the joke. Something about Elessar and hobbit guards. He was laughing still, but suddenly it didn't seem as though he was the one laughing. Someone was laughing through him. Panic and fear rose up inside him, but the laugh continued, almost seemed to increase. He felt his hand move towards fortune, and tried to stop it. His body didn't want to obey his commands.
"No! No!" He tried to cry, but his shouts only echoed inside his mind.
There was Elessar standing in front of him. Sal tried to call out to him, to warn him, but Elessar stood there unaware of the danger he was in.
'No!' Sal cried silently, but Elessar couldn't hear him. Sal felt his arm move, and tried desperately to hold it still. It didn't work though, and Sal watched helplessly as Elessar died by his hand.
He sat up, suddenly awake, in the bed Rose had prepared for him, and stared about him with eyes that burned red.
***
Author's note: And the evil cliffhangers return. Review, or else.