Chapter the First: Thistle the Spy

The gentle dripping song of melting frost and ice sliding off leaves in tiny water droplets, collecting into puddles on the forest floor, echoed softly through the misty air. The air smelled sweet, wet, and green; luscious enough to taste on her tongue. The milky yellow sun rose up over the mountains, which overlooked a forest so belittled in its own insignificant existence, that few remembered it at all.

An elven girl crept silently out of the inn, and dashed toward the barn, a shadow in the early morning light. She stepped over the chickens and piglets, to her horse, Apple Core, whom she led quietly into the daylight.

The slim little sprite seemed to mirror her surroundings, barely there, except in her own mind. Hardly sixteen in appearance, Thistleberry Portwine, or Thistle, as her father used to call her, looked quite wild with eyes as bright as ivy leaves, tangled, uncombed dark chocolate hair, and coarse tanned skin. Breeches much too big hung from her waist, held up by a bulky leather belt, and her large brown shirt drooped past her knees, covered with a jacket just as enormous.

Thistle hopped on Apple Core's back with one swift movement, and with a nudge of her foot to the horse's side, she rode off into the woods. She felt so at home in the woods, with her trusty companion beneath her. As she rode through the very familiar territory, she closed her eyes, raised her arms up above her head, and felt the wet leaves brush against her hands. She just disappeared into her own mind, letting Apple Core do the driving on his own.

After about an hour, she stopped to give Apple Core a rest and to eat a snack. Thistle looked at her surroundings. There really wasn't much to see, just the forest. While she gazed into the trees something caught her eye. It was a light, a campfire! That meant travelers, and travelers meant tales of the world.

"You stay here, Apple Core. I'm going to see what I can see about these journeyers. They probably don't even know there's an inn nearby," said Thistle happily.

Apple Core simply looked at her and neighed in agreement.

She crept toward the light she had seen without making a sound. As she got closer, she heard voices. Some sounded angry, others sounded irritated. She hid behind a few bushes and trees so as not to be seen. Around the campfire sat a rather gruff-looking dwarf, two men, an elf, and four things. Thistle had never seen anything like them before. They were about half the size of a full grown man and wore no shoes. All of them seemed considerably unsettled.

"Well, if we're going to make any progress today, we'd better get a move on," said the elf.

"Which way are we going to take?" the dwarf asked.

"Through Lothlorien, of course," the elf replied.

"Are you mad! Go through that treacherous forest? That would be walking straight to our doom!"

"I assure you, Gimli, it's not anymore dangerous than Moria."

"How do you know, have you been there?"

"No, but I've heard much of it."

"So have I, and none of its good!"

"You haven't been there either, so you have no more right to speak than I!'

"You talk with authority, but no one appointed you to be in charge! What do you have to say Aragorn?"

Aragorn, on of the men, answered, "Gimli, we've spoken about this already, and you know perfectly well that Lothlorien is the safest way."

Gimli glared at the elf and muttered loudly, "Of all the ways to travel, through Lothlorien!"

"Don't worry, Gimli, Mordor will be much worse, I'm sure," the elf sighed.

Thistle Gasped. Mordor, they're going to Mordor! Who are these people! They don't look evil, but why would anyone good go to that evil place! She thought. Suddenly she realized her mistake. Someone might have heard her gasp and then she would be discovered!

Luckily, one of the things tripped and spilled a cup of water on one of the men, causing an outburst. No one heard her through the yelling and shouting, or so she thought.

The elf, who had unusually keen ears, stood up quickly, "Shh! Be quiet!" he whispered. He began to walk around softly and silently, listening.

Thistle, knowing she had been heard, cautiously backed away. Then she made a dash for the place where she had left Apple Core, jumped on the horse, and hastened toward the inn. The elf followed close behind. Running with the speed of the wind, he chased her. She might have heard something she shouldn't have.

Chapter the Second: He's a She

Thistle looked behind her and saw the elf gaining on her. She urged Apple Core on, even though she knew the poor horse was going as fast as he could. All of a sudden she felt something bump against her, hard. She turned around to see what had hit her and started in disbelief. The elf was sitting right behind her! He had jumped on her horse and was now attempting to turn Apple Core around. Quickly Thistle came to her senses. She threw his had off of Apple Core's mane and then jabbed him in his side. The elf reacted by grabbing her shoulders, twisting her around, and punching her. While they each tried to gain control of the horse, Apple Core kept running at lightning speed, keeping his head bent. When at last he did look up, he saw a terrifying sight. He whinnied loudly to warn Thistle. Both riders ceased fighting to see what Apple Core was neighing about. It was the wall of the inn! They were all going to run into it if they didn't stop soon! Without thinking, Thistle seized Apple Core's mane and jerked it to the side, bringing to a halt, but the momentum of the horse caused her and the other elf to fly off of Apple Core. They hit the ground with tremendous force. Immediately Thistle tried to scramble away.

"Oh no, you don't," the elf muttered as he reached out and grabbed her ankle.

Just then someone rather tall and muscular looking open the door to the inn. It was Danbury, Thistle's brother.

"Who is making all that noise out here!" he called out. Then he saw the elf and Thistle fighting on the ground.

Thistle quickly jumped up. "He," she said, glaring at the elf, "attacked me."

Danbury stalked over to the studded elf, picked him up by his jerkin, nearly choking him, and gruffly asked, "What were you doing to my sister!"

The elf almost died with shock. "S-s-sister?" he breathed. With her brother's bold clothes on and her dirty face, Thistle looked very boyish. Upon closer examination, however, he could tell by her bright scowling eyes that that she was indeed a woman.

Still extremely frightened by Danbury's immense strength, the elf tried to explain. "I-I s-s-swear I d-didn't do anyth-thing!" he pleaded.

Danbury didn't look like he believed a word he was saying. The elf was really starting to get worried, when suddenly he heard something that sounded like shouting. He glanced over his shoulder to see what was going on, and saw his companions running in his direction.

The men and things drew their swords, while the dwarf took out his enormous axe.

"Let him go," threatened Gimli, "or face the consequences."

Danbury looked around. He was completely outnumbered. He had no choice but to set the elf free. As he cautiously lowered him down, Danbury asked, "Now that I've turned him loose, will someone please tell me what is going on here!"

Everyone looked at the elf, "She was spying on us!" he exclaimed. "We were talking about something of extreme importance that wasn't to be heard by anyone but ourselves."

Danbury shot a questioning glance at Thistle. "Well, were you spying on them?" he asked.

Thistle guiltily answered, "If you had heard what I had heard, you wouldn't have just walked away, either, Danbury."

Her brother rolled his eyes in exasperation. Then he turned back to the travelers. "I apologize for my sister's actions; she's usually not like this. While you're here, though, would you like to stay here for the night?"

The elf and his friends looked pleased at the thought of sleeping in a bed instead of on the ground, so Danbury decided to show them the available rooms.

Thistle, however, stayed rooted to the spot while furious thoughts raced through her mind. Why did that stupid elf have to go and embarrass me like that in front of so many people? she thought as she glared once more at the elf. Now she would have to endure another one of her brother's lectures. A lecture from Danbury was worse than being embarrassed in front of any number of people.

Chapter the Third: "We're hobbits o' course …"

Thistle wasn't the only one who was fuming. The elf was livid. He was of a high race of elves and had noble blood flowing through his veins. Like most elves, he had much pride and regal bearing. To be humiliated was to be crushed. He paced about one of the rooms that Danbury had led him and his friends to hurriedly, brooding.

One of the men was also uneasy. "I just know she heard something important. Women are silly sometimes; she might go off and tell everyone in the entire inn," he said.

"She's just a stupid inn girl, Boromir. She won't say anything, and if she does, who would believe her?" the elf replied.

"Still, the Enemy has many spied; they might be in the area."

"If you want to speak to her, then go, but I warn you: beware of her brother."

The man did not budge but receded into a thoughtful silence for a long time.

After about an hour of sitting and talking in their rooms (the group had gotten two since there were so many of them), two of the things decided to go down into the bar for a drink. They walked down the stairs and saw a great open room, which evidently was used for eating and maybe even dancing. The only thing remarkably odd about the place was the fact that it was completely empty.

"I wonder where everyone is. There must be someone in this inn besides us," said on of the things.

Then the other thing spied something moving behind the bar counter. "Hey," he whispered. "Pippin, look over there." He pointed in the direction of the movement. Pippin craned his neck to see over the counter.

There, on the floor behind the counter, knelt a maid, scrubbing the oak wood floorboards.

"Excuse me, miss, do you serve the drinks here?" said the second thing.

The girl looked up. She was very pretty and seemed to be about twenty years old. "Well, not really, but since my brother's busy at the moment, I suppose I could get you something," she replied. Readily leaving her dull chore, she made her way over to the many bottles of alcohol.

"What would you like?" she asked the pair.

The first one asked, "Well, what do you 'ave?"
"And do ya serve whole pints?" Pippin added.

"We have a great many drinks and yes, of course we serve whole pints. I thought everybody served pints at their bubs," she said.

"None of the pubs serve pints where we come from. Oh, they serve half pints, quarter pints, nippigans, and brown bowls, but not whole pints," he replied.

That's odd. Anyway, what would you gentlemen like to drink?"

Do you have any ale that's good and stout, but still a little sweet and just a tad bit spicy?"

"That's quite a particular request. What do you think I am…the source of all ale? But, I think I have just what you want. WE have our own secret family recipe. It's so good, that I have never heard of a person being dissatisfied with it. It's the only ale I can drink, for my brother will not let me have anything stronger. He says that I have more elf blood in me than man, and elves weren't meant to drink such things, and I'm going completely off the subject. So, would you like to try some of the House Ale?"

"Sure, but only if you serve it in pints!" exclaimed Pippin gleefully. To him, it seemed like it was the first time he had smiled in years, for he had just experienced on of the most terrifying and grievous moments of his life.

As the girl set about pouring the drinks, she thought about these creatures she was serving. She was of a curious nature, and she pondered who and what they were to such an extent that she felt she must know or she would simply die.

She carefully placed the tankards on the bar counter, which were filled to the brim with delightful, foamy ale. She stared at them while they took their first sips and then, seeing that they were enjoying the drink, she asked casually, "You may think me rude, but I have to ask you…what exactly are you?"

"We're hobbits, o' course. Haven't you ever had one here at this inn before?" The second Hobbit said in astonishment. He could not imagine anyone not knowing about hobbits.

"No. I've never even heard of them before, but I am very glad to have met two fine hobbits such as yourselves. I must say, you seem to be very merry fellows, indeed."

He smiled cheerfully and replied, "It's funny you should say that, because my name is Merry. Actually it's only the name my friends call me. My real name is Meriadoc Brandybuck." He got off his bar stool and bowed. "And I'm at your service, too."

"My name is Peregrine Took, at your service," the other one announced proudly. "But everyone at home calls me Pippin."

The barmaid laughed at their chivalrous gestures. "I'm very pleased to meet you both," she said. "I should probably introduce myself as well, I suppose. I'm Thistleberry Portwine, and I'm known around here simply as Thistle."

Since neither of the two knew the name of the person who had been spying on them earlier that day, neither of them was surprised upon hearing her name. She, on the other hand, knew perfectly well who they were, but no longer cared because they had not committed the crime of sentencing her to a day of scrubbing and sanding the floor and one of Danbury's lectures.