Author's Notes: It's Spring Break and so I decided to give you all another update. I'm not sure I really have anything to say about this chapter other than... well... the flashbacks in this chapter are based on the chapter "Strider" in "The Fellowship of the Ring." As for the quote... well, it just sort of seemed to stick so there you have it. Enjoy!

The Days Have Gone Down in the West

Chapter Five: Shadows on the Wall

"And you're not alone
So don't be afraid
In the dark and cold."
~ The Bard's Song; Blind Guardian

When we crossed the Brandywine Bridge that morning, the day had seemed full of promise. However, by mid-afternoon the beauty of the day had become grey and a soft drizzle of springtime rain began to fall. I found it to be rather disheartening; almost as if the weather was trying to convey a dismal mood on our journey.

Silence had grown between Merry and I. My cousin had not said a word to me or to anyone since we had crossed out of Buckland. It made me nervous. I had not noticed his silence while the day was bright, as I too felt like saying little, more contented to watch the spring flowers blooming by the side of the road. But now the colour had all seemed to fade and I was left in a wet, grey world, with no sound to listen to but the squelching of mud beneath my pony's hooves and the sound of the rain.

I looked over at Merry. He was bent in his saddle; head bowed and shoulders hunched forwards. His head bobbed with the rhythm of the horse. A silent alarm went off inside my head. Something did not look right with Merry. I pulled my pony alongside my cousin and frantically called his name.

There was movement and Merry looked up and over at me blankly. Relief washed over me but it was quickly replaced by worry again. Merry did not look well. His eyes looked blank and dazed and his face grey. I put a hand on his pony to slow it down and did the same with mine.

"Merry? Talk to me."

A long uncomfortable silence followed. "Oh, Pip…" Merry's eyes bore into my own. "I'm not sure I was ready yet…"

It was not the first time I had seen Merry cry but those times had been seldom and to see him before me, shaking like a frail old man unnerved me to my deepest core. I did not know what to do. What words of comfort could I offer my cousin? How could I help him deal with the pain he was going through when I myself had not yet come to terms with the pain of my own departure?

I could think of nothing good to say but, "No one is ever ready." I smiled comfortingly at Merry. "Don't worry, once we get to Bree and your belly is full of bread and ale you'll feel good just as if the sun were out and shining again. And that, dear cousin, is an honest hobbit's promise."

Merry reached out and took my gloved hand tightly in his. He smiled at me; a genuine smile which seemed to lighten up the air ever so subtly. "I'm glad you're here with me, Peregrin."

I smiled and nodded my head. Merry let go of my hand and took up his reigns once more. I let my pony fall into step behind his, smiling to myself. Merry appeared to have recovered himself and once again looked proud and magnificent like I had always remembered him. No longer did the rain seem to dampen all things…

*~*~*

It was well after dark when Merry and I came upon the village of Bree ; the rain still beating down on us. I smiled wryly to myself; seldom had I ever seen Bree in sunshine. Leaving our ponies in the stable, I followed Merry inside The Prancing Pony. The interior of the tavern had not changed since last I had been there. The sounds of loud merrymaking and shouting could still be heard, the smell of damp and ale, and the sights of tall shadowy men lingering in the corners. As Merry stood at the counter, securing us a room for the night, I let my eyes wander around the room.

A dark figure, sitting alone in a corner. His hood was drawn, hiding his face from view. I could not see him well, but by the tension of Frodo I could tell where the man's gaze was directed. A sudden flash of light! His pipe had been lit and for a fleeting moment I saw his glittering eyes; dark and foreboding, his gaze resting on our table.

"Pippin, are you coming?" I blinked, snapped back into reality. The bartender was waiting for us to the side. Merry was looking at me expectantly. "Well? I am a tired old hobbit, Peregrin Took, and I should like to shrug off this armor in exchange for something more lightweight."

"Hold up a moment there; I'm coming!" Shaking my head to clear it of all past visions and memories, I followed my cousin and the man through the inn's common room to one of the smaller rooms on the ground floor.

This room was not unlike the one we had stayed in at The Red Lion. The Prancing Pony always catered towards the Little Folk as well as the Big Folk. The hobbits of Bree, however, were quite queer compared to those of us from the Shire who very seldom dared to travel outside our own quaint borders. A warm fire was crackling in the hearth, its light causing the few shadows to leap upon the walls. I saw four beds in the room. Four beds… for four hobbits… I rubbed my eyes. No; it was only two.

Upon the innkeeper's leave, Merry sighed heavily and eased himself onto his bed. He lay there for a while, motionless and soundless. I too felt tired but continued to stand in the middle of the room, looking around and taking in my surroundings.

Someone else was in the room; someone who should not have been. I looked at Frodo and Sam; they too looked rather weary. I turned around and there he was. He had taken off his hood in the common room of the tavern and now sat in a chair by the door, his dark scraggly hair falling down unkempt. His gaze was hard and unblinking. I grew nervous.

"Hallo!" I greeted, rather unpleasantly startled and surprised. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"I am called Strider," he said, his gaze falling from Frodo to me, "and although he may have forgotten it, your friend promised to have a quiet talk with me…"

A sudden clattering sound snapped me back once again to reality. Merry had fallen asleep, his hand dangling limply from the edge of the bed, his chest rising and falling gently. It had appeared that Merry had fallen asleep whilst trying to undress himself. His belt and scabbard had fallen to the floor.

I smiled, taking in my sleeping cousin's sight and chuckled softly. "My poor old hobbit…"

As carefully as I could, I helped the slumbering Merry out of his armor. It was not an easy task, despite my fingers having not yet lost all their swiftness. Merry was, after all, bigger than myself and I worked slowly, desperately not wanting to wake him. Eventually, I had Merry's armor off and had him tucked warmly into the blankets. I sunk to the floor beside his bed rather ungracefully. I too was now weary and wanted nothing more than to curl up here and fall asleep right now.

But the floor was too hard for my worn and brittle bones and it would not do for a bed. I slowly got up and staggered over to my own bed, letting out a rather audible and drawn sigh. I fumbled with my belt, half in the daze of sleep. Losing the sable garment and glittering chain mail, I settled into bed and lay, staring at the fire.

The flames danced in the hearth bewitchingly, the entrancing conductor of an orchestra of shadows. The dark shapes danced around the room, leaping and stretching across the walls, synchronized in a wondrous dance to the rhythm of the rain on the window glass…

Frodo and Strider were deep in conversation about the tardiness of Gandalf. Frodo was worried the appearance of the mysterious Black Riders were linked to the disappearance of Gandalf. I should have been worried like my two companions and deep down inside I'm sure I was. But horrible fatigue was the more prominent sensation and I felt I would soon no longer be able to stand up on my feet. Apologizing to those present, I excused myself and made to leave the parlour when there was a commotion in the hall and Merry burst into the room. He was out of breath and his eyes were wide and wild. He shut the door tightly behind himself and leaned against the wood, panting.

I stared at him in alarm. What had happened to him on his walk? Why was he out of breath? What had terrified my brave cousin into this sort of state? I was about to ask him what had happened when he spoke.

"I have seen them, Frodo!" he managed to gasp. "I have seen them! Black Riders!"

Alarm and terror swept over the room. Merry had seen the Black Riders here in Bree. They were back and we were not safe here. Frodo pressed Merry to explain what he had seen but I was not listening to his tale. I could not bear to hear what had happened when my cousin had stumbled upon those shadowy demons. It was too dangerous for us to leave the inn but were we safe here? Surely, they knew where we were now and would come for us here in the night. What were we to do? Where were we to go?

"Stay here, and do not go to your rooms," Strider was explaining to the other three hobbits. "They are sure to have found out which ones those are." My eyes widened. I had not picked a good time to begin paying attention again. "The hobbit-rooms have windows facing north and close to the ground. We will all remain together and bar this window and the door. But first Nob and I will fetch your luggage."

Strider left the room with Nob, one of the hobbits employed at the inn. While they were gone, I hovered over Merry's shoulder as he read Gandalf's letter and pondered its meaning with Frodo. I kept glancing from them to the window where I imagined dark shapes were lurking out there somewhere just beyond the glass pane. I shivered and rubbed my arms for warmth and comfort. I suddenly did not wish to be here anymore. I wanted to be back home in Tuckborough where there were no black shapes lurking outside the smial and the greatest difficulty in life was stealing pastries without getting caught by the cook.

"I've ruffled up the clothes and put a bolster down in the middle of each bed," Nob announced to us when he returned with Strider. He looked over at Frodo. "And I made a nice imitation of your head with a brown woolen mat, Mr. Bag – Underhill, sir."

I couldn't help but laugh at the grin on Nob's face despite the icy fear within me. "How very life-like! But… what will happen when they have penetrated the disguise?"

"We shall see," said Strider softly. "Let us hope to hold the fort until morning."

Nob left the room and Strider bolted the door and window. Sam was already laying out the blankets by the hearth for our beds. Soon everything was laid out and ready. Strider sat in a chair by the door barring the way in and keeping watch for the night. I settled into my blankets next to Merry and shivered. I pulled them tight around me and stared up at the ceiling. Merry was laughing softly at Frodo, having now heard the tale of his folly in the common room with the ring. I felt cold, wondering what could possibly protect us from the evil which was no doubt on its way through the streets towards us. What could this Strider do against these faceless foes?

"Pippin? Are you awake?" It was Merry. I rolled over and looked at him. "You have not said much all evening. Are you all right?"

"What is there to say tonight, Merry?" I asked. "Surely, this is not the right time for jokes and games." I shivered. "I'm frightened, Merry. What if they come?"

"We are not in our rooms," Merry said in an attempt to reassure me. "And the way in is blocked. They won't be able to find us, Pippin."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because Frodo insists this man is a friend of Gandalf's and so far the evidence he has given has seemed to be enough for him." Merry shifted a little and then settled down again. He yawned. "Whoever this Strider is, he seems to know more than we do about what is going on. He'll hold his own against those Black Riders. Now go to sleep, Pippin. No doubt we will be up and on the move quite early."

With that, Merry rolled over and went to sleep. Wearily, I looked over to the door where Strider sat. His eyes met mine and he smiled, surprising me. He nodded at me. "Rest, Master Hobbit, you shall be safe in here tonight."

The pillows and blankets did feel rather nice and I was beginning to feel quite warm. I smiled kindly back at Strider and rolled over, closing my eyes. Perhaps this man could be trusted and we would be safe in here after all.

My gentle slumber was disturbed by a loud and horrible screech. Horses could be heard outside, snorting and stamping in response but the shrill cry seemed to come from all around. Sam was sitting upright. I scrambled to sit up as well and was followed by Merry who was pale and wild-eyed. I looked from him to Frodo who had propped himself up and then over to Strider. The man was sitting motionless, his eyes glittering in the light of the fire. He said nothing but brought a finger to his lips, motioning for us to be silent.

The Black Riders were inside the inn and no doubt they had found the dummies in our beds. I shivered and whimpered, the sound of rider, horse, and the warning sound of distant horns replacing the normal sounds of the night. Death was right beyond our door…

A hand was urgently shaking me. I gasped sharply and opened my eyes, sitting up in a frantic daze of dreams. The sharp eyes of my cousin stared back at me. I looked from him to out the window and then at the door. I was frantic. Where was Strider? Had he left us? Without him to protect us the Black Riders would find us.

"Merry, where is he?" I pressed my cousin urgently. "Where has Strider gone?"

Merry blinked at me, confused. "Strider? But, Pip—"

"The horns of Buckland are blowing, Merry!" I cried. "They've come! Where is Strider!?"

"Pippin, calm down!" Merry's face was etched with worry and concern as he forcefully pushed me back down into bed. I struggled against him desperately. Strider! We needed Strider! Where had he gone?

I clawed at Merry's arm, trying to loosen his grip on my shoulders and push him off but he held tight. "The horns have sounded! They are here in the inn! They've come for us! Let me go, Merry, we must get out of here! Black Riders!" I began to cry. Why did Merry not understand? Why did he not seem to care that death was upon us unless we left quickly?

"You are delirious, my dear Took!" Merry persisted. "You've had a nightmare is all. I heard you cry out in your sleep and now I find you covered in sweat. Please calm down, Pippin, I don't wish to rouse the inn keeper at this hour!"

"But the Riders--!"

"Are not here," Merry soothed. "That was long ago. Relax…" I felt him gently stroke my silver curls. "Everything is all right here… it's all fine…"

"Merry—" I began weakly.

"Hush, Pippin," he whispered. "The nightmare shades of the past no longer haunt the night. You're safe." I let go of his arm and went limp amongst the blankets. I sighed softly. Merry smiled. "There… are we at ease now?"

"Yes," I replied slowly. "I'm sorry. Forgive a tired fool for his delusions."

"We all face the past sooner or later," Merry said. "Are you fine to sleep now?"

"I think I am," I said, feeling fatigue creep up on me again. Merry moved down to the edge of the bed where he stayed sitting, watching the door. I looked at him quizzically. "Merry?"

He smiled gently. "Go to sleep, Pippin. Since dear Strider is not here to watch the door, I shall take his place." He smiled wryly at me.

I felt embarrassed and relieved at the same time. The rain outside had stopped and the room was warm. Merry sat on the edge of my bed, alert and upright but all the while probably laughing inside at my folly. I sighed; there was nothing I could do about it now. Nestling down into the blankets, I closed my eyes and drifted off, waiting for dawn.