Disclaimer: I own none of the characters except for Elen the falcon and Butterbur's parents and Saruman's horse and the gatekeeper and the idea of the story. …you know, when I put it that way, it sounds like I actually own a lot of stuff! -looks proud-

Darkaus: Here you go!

CHAPTER THREE: THE PRANCING PONY

My horse, Asaril, slowed to a trot as we crossed a small bridge that arced over a pretty little brook.

It was late afternoon, and I was getting hungry. There was a village up ahead, and that meant there would be inns, so I would have a warm meal and a place to sleep.

But before I entered the village, I had to cross another, larger bridge, which had a barrier built across it, with watchmen guarding it.

As I came to it, a man with a short, black beard asked me my name and what business I had in the town.

"My name is Saruman," I said, "and I simply wish to stop for the night for a hot meal and somewhere to sleep."

They let me in with no further questioning.

I decided to eat dinner and spend the night at the first inn I came to.

As I neared one, I became glad of my decision, as it looked cozy and friendly. A sign hanging from it read "The Prancing Pony."

As I stopped my horse on the side of the road in front of the inn, a boy came running out of the door. A woman rushed out soon after.

"Barliman!" she shouted. "Get back in here and help your father chop the wood!"

The boy, who was rather fat, reluctantly turned and came back to the woman, who, holding him by the ear, took him back inside.

"Excuse me!" I shouted, just before the door slammed shut behind them.

The woman turned, came back out. She looked at me in surprise, eyeing the falcon with discomfort.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

"Is the inn open? I would like a place to sleep, and a meal to eat."

"Well, of course. Just a moment." She turned, and shouted to the boy inside. "Barliman! Come out and take this man's horse and cart to the stables." Turning back to me, she asked "Is there anything you'd like to bring inside with you? If there is, take it now, and come in when you're ready. My husband will show you your room." With that, she went back inside.

The boy stared at my staff. Ignoring him, I gingerly allowed the falcon onto my arm, and took my staff, and a bag that had a fresh set of robes and some money in it. Handing the reins of the horse to the boy, I went inside.

A short, fat man greeted me heartily and took me to my room. He told me I was welcome to come down and have a drink at the bar, or, if I pleased, eat my dinner in my room. I chose the latter, not wishing to be around the boisterous crowd of young people I had seen downstairs.

The dinner was hot and good, and after I ate, I opened the window so that the falcon could go in and out as it pleased, and then went to bed. Although I was tired, I lay there, awake, for a while, thinking.

As I think of Bree, I remember that the new innkeeper, Barliman Butterbur, who was but a boy when I was there, is a friend of Gandalf. They are fools, both of them.