Disclaimer: Oh Valar, I wish I owned even a fraction of Tolkien's creation, but alas I do not. Characters, setting, plot; it all belongs to J.R.R. or Peter Jackson. Except the quotes, which belong to their respective owners. And the title, which obviously belongs to Robert Frost.
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Bree was quite a bit deal more boisterous than he remember from sixty years before. Bilbo walked through the town, trying to keep to the shadows along the road as much as possible; not so much to remain hidden, but rather to avoid the comings and goings of the Big People. Bilbo thought it must be market day or some such thing, for they were many about.
Breathing a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the Prancing Pony sign blowing in the wind, he made a bee-line for the Inn, narrowly missing being run over by a horse and cart.
"Hey, now, watch yourself!" the driver shouted, but spared the hobbit no more than a glance.
Ducking into the entrance of the Inn, he was confronted with the welcoming smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, and smoke. Oh how wonderful it was to be back in civilization once more!
The Inn was nearly as busy as the streets had been, for it was getting late in the afternoon and approaching the time when men frequented such places. But with a little effort, Bilbo was able to pull himself up to look over the counter, and catching sight of a bell, quickly run the instrument.
Within seconds a voice called from the back, "A moment, if you please! I am coming!" It was soon followed by the appearance of a round, harried looking man that Bilbo vaguely remembered as being the Innkeeper.
"Oh, hello Master Hobbit. What might I do for you? Looking for a room?"
"Hello to you as well Mr. Butterbur, and yes I am looking for exactly that. And a meal and ale as well! I've been on the road for days, you see, and quite ready to enjoy a few missed luxuries."
"On the road? I didn't think hobbits were mighty fond of travel. But suit yourself;" it was quite obvious to Bilbo that the man did not remember him. "I have just the room for you, right at the back with round windows and doors just the way you like them. I'll get one of the boys to show you the way. Would you be wanting your supper in your room?"
Bilbo entertained the thought of passing the evening in the common room, but decided he was much too tired for such company at that moment. He was planning on staying a few days, in any event; there would be plenty of time for him to gather news.
"In my room, would be wonderful sir."
"Good, good!" Butterbur turned towards the kitchen he had recently exited, and called in a painfully loud voice: "Dob! Hoy, Dob! Get yourself out here and see to this little sir. Dob!" He yelled again.
Bilbo felt somewhat embarrassed to have been the cause of such loud noise, but it did not seem to bother any of the men in the room. They must be quite used to it. Suddenly, a young boy popped out of the back room, looking just as harried as Butterbur appeared. "Yes, sir?"
"Dob, see to our guest. He'll be wanting the back room, with a lit fire, and you're to bring him dinner in an hour, is that understood?"
Dob nodded quickly as Butterbur returned to his work. "Right this way, Master Hobbit," he said and led the way from the noisy room.
Bilbo was quite happy to see that the Inn had made a few nice additions since he last passed through. There was indeed a nice cozy, hobbit sized room at the back of the building, complete with scaled furniture. It was just perfect, Bilbo thought.
Dob was lighting a fire in the hearth, so Bilbo set about unpacking his things while the boy worked.
"Anything else you be wanting until dinner, sir?"
"No, thank you, I think I'm set. But mind you bring ale with my meal!" Bilbo felt obliged to remind the boy.
"Of course, sir. Good-day to your sir." He closed the door tight behind him, drowning out what little sound there was that carried to the back of the Inn. Bilbo was left in peace and quiet.
"Well, now what do you suppose I should do until dinner?" he asked aloud, but the room gave no answer.
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A sharp knock on the door brought him back to consciousness, and he realized with a mournful groan that he had fallen asleep without even undressing himself of his travel-stained clothes! Bilbo was a little disconcerted that he had now slept overmuch twice on his journey, and he dearly hoped it would not become a regular occurrence.
Pulling himself out of bed with, at least he thought, too much effort he went to answer the door. Dob stood there, waiting anxiously and still looking as harried as before.
"Your supper, sir!" and without waiting for an answer the boy stepped around the small hobbit and deposited the tray on a nearby table. "Will you be wanting anything else before bed, sir?"
"Oh," Bilbo stuttered, still not fully awake. "Yes, uh, yes. I should think a bath might avail me well, for as many days as I've been on the road."
"Oh, surely, sir. I'll come back in an hour or so with hot water," and he disappeared out the door.
Bilbo tried to shake himself back to the land of the living, and only half succeeded. "Well, the best cure for that is food," he said.
The tray was giving off a pleasant smell of roasted chicken, potatoes and a nice mug of ale. Bilbo sighed in pleasure; oh he had surely missed the comforts of home indeed.
He was long since done his meal by the time Dob returned, lugging a small bathing tub with him and leading a young maid who carried two buckets of hot water. "There you are sir," the boy said, after he had filled the tub up and thrown another log on the fire. "Anything else?" The question came easily enough, but Bilbo felt that it was asked in the kind of voice that clearly said: 'please say no'. So Bilbo said "no, thank you. I'm quite alright till tomorrow." And bid the boy and girl goodnight.
In short order he was lounging in the tub, the perfect size for his small form, and enjoying the first bath he had had in a week. He would have to make certain to bath again before he left, for it would be his last chance until he reached Rivendell, almost three weeks hence. He barely found the energy to wash himself, and did not move from the water until it was so cold he began to shiver.
Climbing from the tub he hurriedly dried himself off and dressed in his night robe. Bilbo glanced at the fire, noticing the log Dob had added was nearly burnt down. He added another, and then climbed into the warmth of the hobbit sized bed. He was asleep within moments.
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Bilbo had been at Bree for three days, and had found that he had enjoyed every minute of it. Whenever he seemed to need anything Dob, Butterbur or one of the maids was always on hand and happy to help. He supposed this must be because he was the only hobbit staying at the Inn, and there were only a handful of men renting a room as well.
However, Bilbo was a bit disappointed; for in three days he had seen neither dwarves nor Rangers at the Inn, nor heard of any having passed through Bree in more than a month. But Bilbo had learned something of events in the outer world from the men who were staying at the Pony. He was quite relieved to hear that there were no great problems in Eriador, and that the East-West road was safe for traveling.
Though the night before, when Bilbo had consumed perhaps too much ale than was strictly good for him, he had let slip that he was on his way to the Misty Mountains to visit the elves of Rivendell. The men in the common room, those staying there and those simply having a drink, had spent the better part of the rest of the evening attempting to talk him out of it. And the few hobbits that had been in the Inn had quickly renounced any friendliness towards Bilbo upon learning this news; and shunned him for being queer!
Bilbo had been quite put out by the whole thing, thought it was entirely his own fault. And because of this he had yet to show his face outside of his room. He told himself he wasn't hiding, but was merely enjoying his last chance for a rest before he set out on his way the next morning.
He had already spoken with Butterbur that morning, to settle his account and ask for some needed provisions for his trip. The innkeeper obviously thought the hobbit was mad, but had taken his coin nonetheless and sent Dob to the market to get what Bilbo requested.
It was now late afternoon and Bilbo was waiting for the boy to return so that he could start his packing, and then perhaps work up his courage to show his face in the common room again. Though the inner voice that argued for staying in his room was winning out.
The sudden knock on the door startled the hobbit more than he wanted to admit. It was a very poor time to start jumping at every little noise, Bilbo thought. There was nothing to indicate his slip last night had put him in any danger. Well, no danger except having half of Bree think him mad…
"Coming!" he called towards the door as he trotted across the room to answer it. Dob was standing there holding a sack in one hand and a rolled up canvas in the other. "Oh good," Bilbo exclaimed, seeing it, "you found a tent."
"Yes, sir, just the right size for you I'd say. And I got all the food you asked for as well." He dropped both these things onto the table in the room. "And here's your change, sir," he held out the coins to Bilbo.
"No, no," the hobbit said. "Keep them, my lad. You deserve it."
For the first time since Bilbo had arrived at the Pony, Dob grinned widely at him. "Thank you kindly sir!"
"Oh, you're welcome. But don't spend it all in one place!" Bilbo, chuckling, showed the lad out.
He turned back to survey the items Dob had brought. Yes, everything he had asked for was there. Bringing his rucksack over to the table, he began to repack his things in neat order, with the food on top and easy to reach. A very hobbit way of packing, some would think, but to Bilbo it was second nature. He secured the tent to the bottom of the pack, rolled his blanket up and attached it to the top, and then firmly pronounced himself packed.
This only left working up the courage to dine in public.
~~~~~~~
Bilbo managed to slip out of Bree all but unnoticed the next morning. Part of the reason for his unheralded exit was that he did it just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, and the majority of the town was not yet awake. The biggest reason however, was that he had been shown a back exit out of the town the night before by a helpful Dob. Bilbo was not certain was he was all of a sudden worried about his departure being known, but something was bothering him, and he was willing to go the extra step just to be careful.
He had made good time since then; he was far out of sight of the village before he stopped for a quick noon meal, having not encountered anyone on the road. He took only a short break, though, for he wish to be on his way. The stop at Bree had reminded him of the comforts of home, and he longed to reach Rivendell as soon as he might.
Determined to walk as long as he could each day before he stopped to sleep, he set off along the road, singing merrily.
Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
Let them pass! Let them pass!
Hill and water under sky,
Pass them by! Pass them by!
And so the hobbit started off on his journey, quite content with the world.
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AN: The wonderful song belongs to Tolkien, and is in the Fellowship of the Ring.