...
~ Eastward ~
It was a fine fall day when she set out, and after a while she let Sunstreak break into full speed, which was quite a thrill by itself. Elraen wondered how long the horse could keep such a pace. After a few hours Sunstreak seemed still full of energy, dashing across the White Downs like a gust of wind. Such a grand feeling did it give her that the young wanderer let out an exhilarated laugh. She wondered if the wand was giving the horse a lift, too. For herself Elraen did seem to feel different, a bit lighter, less lost and grieved, though that could have partly been from her stay at the Havens. She gazed at the sky as Sunstreak kept a strong pace across the downs, clasping the wand where it hid in its pouch tied to her belt. At the moment she was in a joyful mood, and the clouds gathered in lovely majestic patterns in the sky.
By evening they were already approaching the western borders of the Shire, and Elraen decided to stop and camp for the night before crossing it. The elves of the Havens had provided a new little tent, but the weather was fine so she lay on her new blankets and pillow on the ground, meditating on her emotions, pushing the wind through the trees. Things were much easier now with the wand in hand, but still it was difficult to manage any precision.
In the morning she continued on more slowly as the way became more populous, so as not to alarm (or accidentally trod upon) the little inhabitants, with her fine things carefully hidden under her old cloak. The guards at the border were a bit wary of her, being a Big Person on a great big horse. But she declared her intention of simply passing through on her journey east, and they let her pass, and being but an innocent looking and courteous enough young maiden she and her horse had a disarming and friendly enough feel to their air. As Elraen proceeded down the road through various towns the little folk bustled about their businesses without seeming to have much notice or concern for travelers such as she; or any of the other races bearing news and other burdens from the wide world. Just after nightfall she reached Bywater, where she stopped for the night.
The inn there was abuzz with the big news of late - an attack by mysterious robed Men on horses a ways East in Buckland. It sounded quite frightful, and her thoughts turned to this fearsome pack of foes who had caused the stir, rumors abound regarding who they might be. From the sound of things they seemed to be heading eastward. Remembering Cirdan's words Elraen began to worry about the remainder of the journey once she passed Bree.
In the wee hours of morning Elraen could take no more sleep and left the inn just before dawn. She was well on her way as the morning came on with a chill in the air. Her mood had sombered after an evening of listening to tales of the mysterious shadowy foes. With the road ahead on her mind, the lost young heiress set off again toward the east at a tight clip and kept going at a strong pace late into the afternoon. She stopped at the Whitfurrows the next night, hearing even more of the same talk of dark cloaked foes as the previous night. Elraen was relieved to reach Bree well before the sun set the next day, as they had not yet closed the gates. She checked into the main inn in town, where there was an even bigger buzz about what sounded like the same figures in black.
Elraen was now growing very worried about the road ahead. These mysterious shrouded riders sounded more formidable and fearsome than any disorderly troops of Orcs or gang of Corsairs. She wondered what she would do if confronted by them, however many there were, out on the wild lonely road between here and Rivendell.
She sat quietly in the dining room over her empty plate of finished supper, trying to pick up bits of information from the chatter around the room. Suddenly into the room burst a frenzied energy with a great sense of urgency.
"Barliman!" shouted a low voice with a boom. Most of the people in the room jumped a bit in a start. "Oh, it's only that strange old man again, always bustling about in a hurry," said one of the customers sitting nearby.
This piqued her attention. Elraen looked closer and saw that the man was dressed nearly all in grey. He reminded her a bit of the strange old man she found wandering alone in the mountains, with long hair, long robe, staff, and all. She watched intently as the man then exchanged quieter words with the owner and suddenly let out a merry laugh, exclaiming his forgiveness to the frightened innkeeper. The old man crossed the room and picking a big cushioned chair sank in and pulled out a pipe. Ere long he sat in silence, smoking, lost in thought.
"Hello," the old man heard a soft voice say. "Are you Gandalf?"