Frodo woke up the next morning, feeling much better. He honestly didn't know what happened, other than he had gone delirious or was trying to figure out what that hobbit woman wanted and why she fled so fast. He jumped upon seeing his friends, staring at him, trying not to fall asleep. Did he do something wrong?

"Hi everyone," Frodo said, surprised when his friends looked at him, a rush of excitement filling the air.

"Frodo!" Pippin cried, joining him at once.

"Sam invited us. How are you feeling? You ready to take on that Bearer of Secrets?" Merry asked, punching the air a few times.

"What happened?" Frodo asked, concerned.

"You were acting strangely," Sam said, checking his hand. "That powder hasn't left your hand." He tapped Frodo's palm with his index finger, before sniffing the powder on his finger. "Salvia. I know this plant. It causes hallucinations. It's a dangerous plant, but not as dangerous as nightshade."

"What is it doing here? It's not found in Bag End's garden," Frodo said, worried.

"No, but it's out there somewhere. Salvia exists in Middle-earth," Sam said, moving away from him. "Well, I'm sure it'll wash off. What was that man in shadows doing, startling you like that?"

"I don't know, but that's what we're about to find out," Frodo said, making his way into the bathroom to do his business and wash up. By the time he finished in there, he checked his hands. The powder was off and his hands were clean, a good sign that he did the right thing, as he made his way into the bedroom to change.

By the time he finished his morning routine, he found Sam, Merry, and Pippin in the dining room, where a decadent display of food and drinks were assorted on the dining room table. He looked up as Pearl came into the dining room with the food and drinks. He sat down, plucking some meaty, cooked sausage links and cooked golden eggs from the dishes, onto his plate. He smiled, listening to Pippin tell his stories about his adventures, while he ate breakfast.

Frodo couldn't believe how much had happened in such a short time, but here they were! And now, he just had to make sure the Bearer of Secrets paid for his crimes!

"So, where are we going?" Pippin asked, curious.

"The note said to head to Bree. I suggest we go that way after breakfast and stop by Frogmorton or Stock for lunch. It's going to take a couple of days just to get there," Frodo said in-between bites.

"On foot, it will, but we're traveling on horseback. It shouldn't take us that long to get there," Merry said with a smile.

Frodo grinned. "I hope you're right."

.

The journey to Bree-town took approximately a day and a morning to complete on horseback. Frodo was sure Bree-town hadn't been too far away, but Merry was right: travel on horseback was much easier than he thought. He wondered what he would find in Bree-town.

At last, they reached Bree-town, with its many buildings decked in white, black, and brown. All the buildings were enormous, nearly scaring Frodo to the bone. He hadn't expected this. Oh well. Maybe his venture wouldn't be a total loss.

Frodo followed his friends over to the stable, close to the Prancing Pony, if not next door to the inn. The sign had a horse on the top with the name engraved at the bottom. Frodo looked at his friends for support, grateful to see he was given some in return.

He took a few deep breaths before stepping inside the inn. After climbing up the stairs, Frodo entered a large dining area, with a wood-planked floor, and tables and chairs strewn about the room. Over in a corner, close the beige wall and near where the hallway lead into the guest rooms, was the innkeeper's booth, where a portly man stared down at the four hobbits.

"Good evening. Barliman Butterbur at your service." Mr. Butterbur said, curious. "What can I do for you today?"

"We're looking for a room. Four please!" Merry said, pleased.

"I'll have Nob take care of it. Take a seat in the dining room, while we get your room prepared," Mr. Butterbur said, making his way out of the booth and into the hallway.

Frodo raised his eyebrows. It was really that simple? He turned to his friends, following them into the dining area, where they took their seats at an empty table. Frodo looked around the room, staring at the waitresses serving the men and women their lunch and dinner.

"What am I supposed to do?" Frodo asked his friends, concerned.

"Just be casual, but be yourself, too," Merry said, teasingly. "The women love that!"

"Well, we are musketeers and musketeers fall in love," Pippin said, pleased. He jolted upon hearing his favorite tune from the bard and musicians. "And we love a good dance, much like hobbits do. Excuse me!" He rushed to the dance floor, dragging a hobbit lass with him.

"That's Pippin's way of finding a lass to dance with," Merry shook his head.

"Excuse me, would you care to dance?" A second hobbit lass asked, tapping Merry's shoulder.

"Ah. The lasses call me!" Merry said, taking the lass' hand and leading her out onto the dance floor.

Frodo smirked, turning his gaze to Sam. "Sam, what about you? Won't you join them?"

"Now, I've got a lass at home," Sam said, concerned for their friends.

"Come on, Sam. Surely you can show me how to get a lass' attention," Frodo said, nodding to a waitress, while he drank his ale.

"Merry and Pippin are usually good at this! I'm just… me," Sam said, flustered.

"Alright, Sam. Then I'll try something!" Frodo said, standing up and approaching a lonely hobbit lass. He smiled, extending his hand to her. "Care to dance?" He squeaked, clearing his throat. He caught a brief glimpse of Sam shaking his head at him. He asked the lass again, encouraging her now, "Please. It would be very kind of you to join me."

"Well, since you asked, I would love to accompany you," the hobbit lass said, taking his hand and following him out onto the dance floor.

Frodo was impressed with the hobbit lass' footwork. It was as if she had the steps down. Now, if only he could convince her to see what he could do when dancing, then things would be incredible! And yet, it wasn't enough for our dear hobbit to bear.

"Tell me, lass, what is your name?" Frodo asked the lass, curious.

"Silvia," The hobbit lass said, admiring him.

"You don't have a last name?" Frodo asked, curious.

"I don't think it's appropriate," Silvia said, curtly. She sure was a mystery, all dressed in a red gown with white frills along the edges. "But you seem quite the sort who can convince any lass to dance with you. Excuse me." She walked away from him, encouraging him to dance longer. "By the way, you are a very fine dancer, Mr. Baggins."

Frodo waved to her. "Bye!" He watched her leave, waiting until she left before regrouping with Sam. "Idiot, I was. I knew it."

"You're not an idiot," Sam said, curtly. "We'll just have to make sure we find out who the Bearer of Secrets is."

"He could be anywhere," Frodo said, taking a swig of his drink. "I'm going to bed." He wandered out of the dining room. To his surprise, the hallway was narrow and had storage rooms in a few places, alongside the guest rooms.

He was just about to head upstairs when he spotted Silvia chatting with someone. Someone wearing a black hood and cloak, as well as grey clothing. His feet were hairy and he was about Frodo's height. Wait. Could this hobbit be the Bearer of Secrets?

He turned the corner, before Silvia and the man in shadows – the hobbit in shadows – found out where he was headed. At last, he reached his room, closing the door behind him. Four beds lined the walls, while a fireplace stood off in one wall, with its flames crackling and its smoke climbing up to the chimney, where it belonged.

Frodo sat down on a chair, watching the firelight glisten in the stone fireplace. It was soothing. His eyes grew heavy, forcing him to fall into a deep, pleasant sleep.

By the time he awoke, a gloved hand covered his mouth. A strange scent wafted his nostrils. It wasn't Salvia, but a liquid that tasted just like honey. His eyelids drooped, unable to keep the sleep away for another minute. He dozed off into another dream, but one far deadlier and more dangerous than the last one he endured.

The last thing he remembered, before falling unconscious, was the Bearer of Secrets and how he had been fooled by this fiend more than one.