(A/N what has happened to my darling reviewers? Oh well, guess I'll write,
here you go.
Blah blah blah..I don't own a whole bunch of stuff, Blah blah, blah.)
The Prancing Pony Inn was extraordinarily crowded with the people of Bree, both men and woman as well as a few foreigners, much more crowded than the movie portrayed. They spoke briefly with the barkeep who told them there were some nice hobbit size rooms available, but nothing for the two humans, who then exclaimed that hobbit size lodgings were perfectly agreeable with them. The barkeeper had to raise his eyebrows at that, glancing over Steven's impressive height.
"I should think not young master," He replied while Steven tried to explain to him that he'd had spent the last few months of his life in a hobbit hole.
"It's impossible!" he cried hearing a summarized tale of their stay.
"No! No!" Steven was saying, "A hobbit size room will suit me just fine!"
"And what of the lady?" he asked turning towards Abby, "Surely you don't keep the same room as the gentlemen?"
"I do." Replied Abby, icily.
The barkeeper looked ready to choke on his own tongue, 'That is highly improper!" he exclaimed in a what-time-yesterday-were-you-born voice.
"It is improper in your standards for a sister to share a sleeping quarter with her brother?" she replied.
He looked between the two of them. They looked no more like a brother and a sister than a cat looks like a dog. He decided to say nothing more on the matter.
"Alright then I'll have Bess, fix up those rooms nice and comfortable for you, and did you have a horse or a cart with you?"
They replied that they did.
"Well I'll best get Thengedon to hitch them up in the stable, but that costs extra you know. Do you have the money for it."
They assured the barkeeper that they could afford the price.
"Well why don't you all settle in then?" he asked in a jovial voice and showed them to a table, made from rotting wood and surrounded by eight rickety chairs.
After a few minutes a scandalously clad barmaid appeared and curtseyed, "My lords and lady," she said the last word with an icy bite "Is there anything you should like to have from the kitchens? Or anything that you should like to drink?"
They made their orders hastily, wanting to reach the bar as quickly as possible; Abby quickly scanned the room and the BINGO! There was Aragorn smoking his pipe in the same corner as usual and by the looks of it the hobbits had noticed as well.
"That fellow," Sam muttered to Frodo, "Has been starring at us all night."
Frodo took a glance over, "Has he?"
"Yes." Replied Sam.
"Excuse me," Frodo said, trying to catch the barkeeper's attention, "Who is that man?"
"Oh him?" he asked looking darkly over to the corner, "That's one of them rangers, We don't know his name hereabouts so most call him Strider."
"I see." Replied the hobbit.
Bilbo cast Abby a sideways glance, it always unnerved him how she seemed to know everything. She was looking off into the corner where Strider sat with a wry smile gracing her lips.
Many moments passes by with relative silence from the group, the only two that really talked were Merry and Pippin, who as usual drank more ale than they ought, such was the case when Merry returned from the bar carrying an enormous tankard, well enormous to the hobbits at least.
"What's that?" Pippin asked eyes wide as he watched the foaming drink.
"This my friend, is a pint." Replied Merry licking his lips.
"It comes in pints?" he asked astonished, when Merry said nothing but happily took a sip of his ale Pippin sprang from his chair saying, "I'm getting one."
"But you've already had two!" Frodo called to his retreating back.. Pippin however didn't pay the slightest heed.
"Frodo? Frodo Baggins?" Pippin was saying to a man at the bar, "Yes I know a Frodo Baggins, he' my second cousin on my mother' side."
"Pippin no!" Frodo cried hoping from his seat; Bilbo had given them strict orders to go by fake names. But as he rushed forward, someone turned around and caused him to fall. The ring flung out of his breast pocket which had been its abode and into the air. Frodo outstretched his hand and the ring landed over his finger and slid down, and Frodo disappeared with a small "pop"
There was a collective gasp around the inn. It went deathly silent until some man coughed loudly and the chattering happened again.
Frodo appeared and Strider rushed forward and grabbed the reappeared Frodo by the collar. He whispered something in his ear and carried him up e steps and into one of the many rooms.
"Don't we have to chase after Frodo?" Steve whispered in Abby's ear.
"No." she replied quietly, 'We'll wait for Sam to notice."
It was not long until Sam did and the group rushed forward and up the steps and into the room which held both Strider and Frodo.
Sam was yelling at Strider. Strider said something in reply and put his sword away.
Abby wasn't paying much intention. She just couldn't get over how much he stunk.
It was like the man bathed in mud and vinegar.
Or never bathed at all.
Needless to say, it was awful.
But damn! He was a hottie!
Blah blah blah..I don't own a whole bunch of stuff, Blah blah, blah.)
The Prancing Pony Inn was extraordinarily crowded with the people of Bree, both men and woman as well as a few foreigners, much more crowded than the movie portrayed. They spoke briefly with the barkeep who told them there were some nice hobbit size rooms available, but nothing for the two humans, who then exclaimed that hobbit size lodgings were perfectly agreeable with them. The barkeeper had to raise his eyebrows at that, glancing over Steven's impressive height.
"I should think not young master," He replied while Steven tried to explain to him that he'd had spent the last few months of his life in a hobbit hole.
"It's impossible!" he cried hearing a summarized tale of their stay.
"No! No!" Steven was saying, "A hobbit size room will suit me just fine!"
"And what of the lady?" he asked turning towards Abby, "Surely you don't keep the same room as the gentlemen?"
"I do." Replied Abby, icily.
The barkeeper looked ready to choke on his own tongue, 'That is highly improper!" he exclaimed in a what-time-yesterday-were-you-born voice.
"It is improper in your standards for a sister to share a sleeping quarter with her brother?" she replied.
He looked between the two of them. They looked no more like a brother and a sister than a cat looks like a dog. He decided to say nothing more on the matter.
"Alright then I'll have Bess, fix up those rooms nice and comfortable for you, and did you have a horse or a cart with you?"
They replied that they did.
"Well I'll best get Thengedon to hitch them up in the stable, but that costs extra you know. Do you have the money for it."
They assured the barkeeper that they could afford the price.
"Well why don't you all settle in then?" he asked in a jovial voice and showed them to a table, made from rotting wood and surrounded by eight rickety chairs.
After a few minutes a scandalously clad barmaid appeared and curtseyed, "My lords and lady," she said the last word with an icy bite "Is there anything you should like to have from the kitchens? Or anything that you should like to drink?"
They made their orders hastily, wanting to reach the bar as quickly as possible; Abby quickly scanned the room and the BINGO! There was Aragorn smoking his pipe in the same corner as usual and by the looks of it the hobbits had noticed as well.
"That fellow," Sam muttered to Frodo, "Has been starring at us all night."
Frodo took a glance over, "Has he?"
"Yes." Replied Sam.
"Excuse me," Frodo said, trying to catch the barkeeper's attention, "Who is that man?"
"Oh him?" he asked looking darkly over to the corner, "That's one of them rangers, We don't know his name hereabouts so most call him Strider."
"I see." Replied the hobbit.
Bilbo cast Abby a sideways glance, it always unnerved him how she seemed to know everything. She was looking off into the corner where Strider sat with a wry smile gracing her lips.
Many moments passes by with relative silence from the group, the only two that really talked were Merry and Pippin, who as usual drank more ale than they ought, such was the case when Merry returned from the bar carrying an enormous tankard, well enormous to the hobbits at least.
"What's that?" Pippin asked eyes wide as he watched the foaming drink.
"This my friend, is a pint." Replied Merry licking his lips.
"It comes in pints?" he asked astonished, when Merry said nothing but happily took a sip of his ale Pippin sprang from his chair saying, "I'm getting one."
"But you've already had two!" Frodo called to his retreating back.. Pippin however didn't pay the slightest heed.
"Frodo? Frodo Baggins?" Pippin was saying to a man at the bar, "Yes I know a Frodo Baggins, he' my second cousin on my mother' side."
"Pippin no!" Frodo cried hoping from his seat; Bilbo had given them strict orders to go by fake names. But as he rushed forward, someone turned around and caused him to fall. The ring flung out of his breast pocket which had been its abode and into the air. Frodo outstretched his hand and the ring landed over his finger and slid down, and Frodo disappeared with a small "pop"
There was a collective gasp around the inn. It went deathly silent until some man coughed loudly and the chattering happened again.
Frodo appeared and Strider rushed forward and grabbed the reappeared Frodo by the collar. He whispered something in his ear and carried him up e steps and into one of the many rooms.
"Don't we have to chase after Frodo?" Steve whispered in Abby's ear.
"No." she replied quietly, 'We'll wait for Sam to notice."
It was not long until Sam did and the group rushed forward and up the steps and into the room which held both Strider and Frodo.
Sam was yelling at Strider. Strider said something in reply and put his sword away.
Abby wasn't paying much intention. She just couldn't get over how much he stunk.
It was like the man bathed in mud and vinegar.
Or never bathed at all.
Needless to say, it was awful.
But damn! He was a hottie!