AN: Sorry about the delay on this one. A couple of reviews made me have to do some thinking to get this scene to work right. Women really don't fit in well with this crowd of heroes. Guess I should have done this sooner, but I own none of the LotR franchise. That out of the way, on with the adventure.
Chapter 3
The Keeper of the Gate to Bree watched as the oddest crew to pass through his gate made their way to Pony. Four hobbits, not something he'd seen since he was a tot, and the mouthiest wench this side of the Great River. He noticed that she keep looking back at him like she'd like to come back and start arguing some more. Since he had only been trying to convince the daft girl that the Pony was no place for her even at the best of times, and with this rain and word of dark strangers lurking in the woods it was bloody well not the best of times, he merely shook his head and returned to his post by the gate.
"What is he staring at? You'd think he'd never seen a woman before." Ivy's cheeks were flushed and her periwinkle eyes were still sparking in the gatekeeper's direction, but she seemed to be calming down. At least that's what Sam could guess.
"You stay close to us, Miss Ivy. We don't need your tongue to get us into any more trouble." As it turned out, trouble seemed to be wandering about Bree willy-nilly. Aside from Gandalf and Farmer Maggot, the four hobbits had never been aroundsuch alarge group ofhumans before. Merry looked at one such big fellow who stumbled past in the rain and then cast speculative eyes back at Miss Ivy. Never one to miss a crack at a friend, he gave a cheeky grin before speaking.
"You're kind of short for a human, aren't ya, Miss Ivy?"
"Watch your mouth. I'm tall enough to see the top of your head," she gave a devilish grin of her own," and if I'm not mistaken, you've got the start of a bald spot."
Merry's frantic checking of his hair (he seemed to have forgotten that he was wearing a hood…) broke a bit of the tension that had followed the group from the start of the downpour, but Frodo's halt before the door of the Prancing Pony brought their situation rushing back to front of their minds. It was quickly agreed that Ivy would have to keep her hooded cloak on. Even the hobbits realized that only certain kinds of women went into the taverns after dark.
"If you keep your hood on and kind of squat, you might be able to pass for one of us," toned Pippin.
"As long as no one looks at her feet," mumbled Frodo. They all looked down at the half boots on Ivy's dainty feet and then took in the large and hairy feet common to all hobbits. Actually, the hair was so caked with mud from the rains…Ivy sighed and began to pull off her boots while using one hand on Sam's shoulder to keep her steady.
"You have no idea what they dump into this gunk." With one good stomp and a partial burial in a particularly gooey mud hole, the 'hobbits' were ready to enter the tavern.
AN: Sorry for another short chapter, but if I try to push for more; I tend to trip myself up. You'll notice that I'll skim certain parts and hang on forever in others. Hopefully, you'll like my stuff enough to stick around and see what all I've got in store. Miss Ivy does have some background that will tell out as the story progresses. Until next time!