Don't Say We Have Come Now to the End

I sat in a shadowed corner of The Prancing Pony Inn - hidden not only by the dimness of the room, but also by the hood of my dark green cloak - in the small village of Bree, which could be found East of the Shire and South of Fornost Erain, but I was not alone. no, I was far from being alone. Beside me sat a light brunette Elf maiden, also hidden behind a dark green cloak, whom I had known almost my whole entire life and her name was Alys. On Alys' left was a black haired Elf maiden hidden behind a black cloak, Ayleth. To the right of Ayleth sat another Elf maiden, this one had dark red, almost black hair who wore a dark brown cloak, Ellyn. Across from us sat a man that the four of us had known since he was first brought to Rivendell by his mother, Gilraen; he was known as Aragorn by some, but Strider was his Ranger name. He too was also hidden by a dark green, with a slight hint of dark blue, cloak.

The five of us had been sitting in The Prancing Pony for a little over two days time now. Occasionally one or two of us would go and rest in the small, yet comforting room we were renting from the owner, Barliman Butterbur; but for the most part we spent our time sitting in our corner, watching the door patiently. Strider informed us when we first noticed him in the corner by one of the few fireplaces in the Inn, that Gandalf the Grey had sent him to safely escort four Halflings to Rivendell when they arrived in Bree. He was quite surprised at first to see us as we hadn't stepped foot outside the Lothlorien woods for a little over 15 winters, but we quickly fell into our routine from when we used to travel together many long winters ago. We had pulled up a table to join his and sat with all of our backs against the wall -Alys and I with our backs to the wall with the fireplace on it, while Strider, Ayleth and Ellyn sat next to us, with their backs against the wall with the windows - so that we could all see the doorway, keeping a careful eye on all who entered and left the tavern. It wasn't long after we had sat down that we told him why we were here.

'My grandparents sent the four of us to help you, Strider, in bringing the Halflings to safety. Grandmother saw something happen to one of the Halflings along the journey, she never told us which Hobbit it would be or when it would happen or what would happen. Whatever it is though, it must be serious if they had to send us out of Lothlorien to help you. She did mention though, that one of the Hobbits carries something, a great burden, that will attract unwanted creatures to them. We'll aid you in any way that we can, old friend,' I had said to him, shortly after we had received a pint of ale each.

"Are you sure we did not miss them, Thea?" Alys asked me quietly on the night of our third day in Bree; her face darkening as she turned towards me, away from the glow of the fire.

"Yes, Alys. I'm sure we did not miss them. My heart tells me they are on their way here. They will come soon. We just have to wait, they cannot walk as fast as you or I could, we have to remember that," I answered her, my blue eyes never leaving the door of the Inn.

"Ugh! I hate waiting! It is so boring here, there is nothing to do but watch drunk old men make fools of themselves all day," Ellyn complained; her soft silky black hair falling around her face from under her hood as she threw her head down on the worn wooden table in complaint.

"Oh Ellyn, you make a terrible Elf sometimes. We were born immortal, blessed by the Valar with the gift of long life, giving us all the time in Middle Earth to do as we pleased, peacefully and at any speed we wished. Yet here you are, complaining about having to wait a few days for some Halflings to arrive," Ayleth joked, her cheerful laughter filling the stuffy, smoke filled air that occupied the tavern under the rooms of the Inn.
"Oh quiet! I cannot help it if I am impatient," Ellyn whined, swinging her head upwards in exclamation; her hood nearly falling off of her head.

"One would think you would learn how to be patient over the years, my friend," Strider added in with a small toothy grin from where he sat next to me in the corner; his comment causing our small group to break out in quiet laughter once more.

After that silence fell over us for a short time when we noticed the door open, but seemingly no one walking into the tavern nor exiting the tavern; some of the stuffy air escaping out into the clean, crisp world outside, allowing fresh air to rush into the tavern, bringing with it the smell and sound of freshly falling rain. Our hopes rose as Mr. Butterbur leaned over the counter of he bar, as if to speak to someone or someones who weren't quite tall enough to see over the counter. The five of us could just faintly hear the conversation that he was having with whomever had walked in over the loud boisterous chattering of the drunken men that filled the tavern.

"Good evening little masters. If you're seeking accommodation, we've got some nice, cozy Hobbit sized rooms available Mr...ah..." Mr. Butterbur spoke, cleaning a mug with an old, well worn cloth as he leaned on the bar. Our group of five leaned back a bit, letting out breaths of air some of us didn't even realize we were holding in; they had done it, they had gotten to Bree, our Hobbits were safe. For now.

"Underhill...my name's Underhill," One of the Hobbits spoke, his voice seeming small and innocent compared to the loud voices of the men around him.

"Underhill? Hmmm," Barliman murmured thoughtfully, pondering the name over in his mind, searching to see if the name sounded familiar or not.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey... Can you tell him we've arrived?" The same Hobbit asked, a tinge of hope lingering in his words as he continued to talk with Barliman.

"Gandalf...Gandalf...Oh..." Barliman started, puzzlement evident in every word. "Oh yes! I remember... elderly chap... big grey beard.. pointy hate?" He continued, "Not seen him for six months," Mr. Butterbur finished before turning around and returning to his customers at the bar.

The Hobbits were soon revealed to us as they walked out from around the corner of the bar and sat at an open table on the opposite side of the room from us; the table, benches and candelabras were much too big for their small figures, and the men around them towered far over their heads.

"They look terrible. So tired, and cold, frightened and hungry," Ayleth commented, after closely inspecting the group of Halflings as they sat at their table, digging into the bread and cheese that were brought to them by Mr. Butterbur, their eyes glancing all around them nervously.

"I would expect so. The Shire is quite some distance from Bree, a day or twos time on horse, three or four days on foot. They must have ran part of the way here, with little time to sleep for them to look so tired and worn as they do," Strider added on.

"Of course they are frightened, Ayleth. They are in a place where they have never been before, let alone amongst the 'Big Folk.' They have never seen so many 'Big Folk' all in one place before. The Shire rarely gets travellers anymore these days," I too added; pity lacing my words as I spoke of the frightened look all the Hobbits wore on their faces.

The five of us sat there staring at them for a little while, studying them; it was quiet as both our tables, with one or two small conversations starting up briefly amongst the Hobbits before soon dying down. Thankfully for our keen Elven ears, four out of the five of us were able to hear their full conversations; Strider on the other hand had a bit more trouble and only caught bits and pieces of their talks.

"Sam..he'll be here. He'll come," One Hobbit said, offering some hope to his nervous companion who sat beside him; the Halfling who had spoken has curly brown hair, but what stood out most about him were his strikingly blue eyes. His friend, Sam, had curly blond hair, blue eyes and was a bit chubbier then the other Hobbits. One of the other Hobbits came back to their table with a rather large pint full of ale in his hands, the pint just barely fitting between his two small hands that wrapped around it.

"What's that?" Asked a Halfling with dark golden blond hair and blue eyes. His friend sat down on the old wooden bench beside him, placing the pint down on the well worn wooden table; licking his lips anxiously to taste the delicious ale.

"This, my friend, is a pint," Answered the Hobbit who had brown almost blond curly hair and blue eyes. He held his pint of ale in his hands that was almost overflowing, before slowly and carefully lifting it up to his lips and beginning to drink.

"It comes in pints?" The dark golden blond haired Hobbit questioned, astonishment clearly evident in his voice.

"Mhmmm," Answered his friend as he continued to drink his ale; the pint nearly covering half of his face it was so large compared to him.

"I'm getting one," The Halfling declared, determination written across his face, before getting up and walking briskly towards the bar.

"You've got a whole half already!" Sam called out to his friend, who was already nearing the bar. It was quiet once again as the third Hobbit left to go and get his drink, sitting up at the bar with the men, but it didn't stay quiet for long.

"That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived. His companions haven't been much better either. They have looked at you nearly as long as he has," Stated Sam, pointing towards the corner where the five of us sat with a piece of bread in his hand. When the blue eyed, curly brown haired Hobbit cautiously raised his head and looked up towards our group, I can't say I really blame him for the fearful look that had fallen upon his face. The five of us sat in the shadows, with the hoods of our cloaks drawn up, and our heads were all turned in their direction, our features completely hidden from view. Not quite the best way to look when you are supposed to be helping this Hobbit and his three friends in the coming days.

"Excuse me. That man and his four companions in the corner. Who are they?" Asked the blue eyed Halfling from where he sat of Mr. Butterbur as he walked by with some bread and three mugs of ale for other customers; his voice small and quiet.

"He's one of 'em Rangers; they're dangerous fold, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard, but round here he's known as Strider. As for his companions, they are rather friendly fold, even if they do not look it. I have seen their faces, but they wish to keep hidden from strangers. Although, they have never told me their right names, word has gotten around Bree that they are known as Thea, Alys, Ayleth and Ellyn," Butterbur informed the three young Halflings, glancing in our direction now and again as he spoke.

"Strider. Thea. Alys. Ayleth. Ellyn," The Hobbit whispered to himself, the flickering flames dancing lightly on his cheeks as he pondered over our names.

Not long afterwards, the five of us all looked to each other when we felt an overwhelming sense of evil suddenly erupt in the room. Others started to notice it too. Ellyn looked closely at the Hobbits while the rest of us paid close attention to the other men in the tavern, making sure this evil presence didn't overwhelm any of the weaker men and cause them to act out foolishly. A few moments later Ellyn nudged Ayleth's arm and kicked Strider's leg before nodding towards the brown haired, blue eyed Hobbit and whispered to look down at his hands. When we all did we noticed that he was playing with a gold ring under the table. At first we thought it was just an ordinary right, but then we heard it. That's when we realized just how wrong we really were.

"Baggins. Baggins. Baggins. Baggins. Baggins," This low, evil whisper could faintly be heard under the loud chattering of the tavern. This whisper could only come from one thing, the one Ring of Power; and that voice that we, and others around the tavern heard, was that of the Dark Lord, Sauron.

The last 'Baggins' whispered by the Ring was mixed in with the talking of the third Hobbit, the one who had gone to get a pint of ale after his friend had brought one back to their table.

"Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins. He's over there. Frodo Baggins. He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father's side, if you follow me," Spoke the dark golden blond haired Hobbit, pointing back towards Sam and the others at their table as he spoke.

The Halfling now known as Frodo Baggins, the famous Bilbo Baggins' nephew, began to run towards his second cousin, obviously in a hurry to try and stop him from letting anymore information out, dodging in-between the figures and legs of the giants around him. As he was being jostled around from side to side by the men around him, Strider, Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I all sat at the edge of our wooden seats, ready to spring up in the Ring slipped from Frodo's hand or if any harm came to the poor Halfling; our hoods just barely staying on our heads now, our features just barely concealed behind a layer of weather worn cloth.

"Pippin!" Cried Frodo when he reached his second cousin, grabbing his sleeve and tugging backwards slightly, spilling some of Pippin's ale in the process.

"Steady on, Frodo!" Pippin replied, ripping his arm free from Frodo's grasp, knocking him backwards; Frodo sudden unbalance caused him to slip on the toe of a well worn boot of one of the men standing just behind him. The young Hobbit fell backwards, the Ring flying up into the air as his back made contact with the hard, cold, dusty and ale covered stone floor. The Ring seemed to hover in the air for a moment or two before crashing right back down onto Frodo's pointed finger and he disappeared from sight.

"Oh!" Exclaimed many of the men that had gathered around Frodo and Pippin, gasps and other exclamations could be heard all around the tavern as well, even a few curses could be heard. Strider, Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I all shot up from our seats, knocking them down to the floor or back against the wall as we rushed towards the spot where Frodo once was; struggling in vain to push past many of the men, trying to follow Frodo's tiny footsteps that he left in the slight dust and grim that layered the stone floor. When he pulled the Ring off moments later he was closer to where Strider was, resting up against the foot of a table and breathing quite heavily. Strider quickly grabbed Frodo by the shoulder, sweat evident on Frodo's forehead after experiencing the horrors of the Ring, and dragged him down one of the corridors which led to the stairs; Ellyn, Alys, Ayleth and I followed close behind. Strider pushed the frightened Halfling up against a nearby wood panelled wall and said, "You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. 'Underhill.'"

After this he turned around and carried the Hobbit up a few stairs by the back of his shirt before pushing him up the rest of the stairs and into the room that we have been renting for the last few days.

"What do you want?" Questioned a spooked Frodo of Strider as I closed the door behind me, everyone else already having entered the room.

"A little more caution from you. That is no trinket you carry," I warned him, keeping my hood well on my head, masking my features from the frightened Hobbit as I turned towards him.

"I carry nothing," Countered the Halfling as he backed up against the pillar of the stone fireplace which provided mos of the light for the small, yet comforting room; the rest of the light was provided by the moon, peeking through the clouds and shinning in through the window.

"Indeed. We can avoid being seen if we wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift," Strider said, walking over to the window and putting out the flames of a few candles with his fingers. After doing so he turned around to face us again, removing his hood from his head and revealing his ruffled, shoulder length brown hair and blue - with a tint of grey - eyes that held much wisdom and many stories of adventure and danger.

"Who are you?" Frodo once again questioned and although he was looking at Strider as he spoke, the question was aimed at all who stood in the room.

"Are you frightened?" Alys asked the Halfling, ignoring his question. Her questioning brought Frodo to turn towards the four of us, standing near the closed wooden door, his only escape out of this situation he had gotten into; our hoods still drawn, our features all but hidden from his bright blue, pondering eyes.

"Yes," Frodo hesitated before answering truthfully, unsure of who queried him from the four that had stood before him.

"Not nearly frightened enough. We know what hunts you," Strider informed the Hobbit as he stepped closer to him, confusing and worrying Frodo even more.

Strider and Frodo held eye contact with each other before the six of us hear a commotion coming from the stairs, a commotion that only got louder and closer towards our room. Acting quickly, Strider turns, ripping out his sword from it's scabbard and standing in front of Frodo. Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I follow suit and quickly draw our swords as well - faster then both the man and the Halfling could even comprehend, using speed that only Elves could muster - before turning and positioning ourselves protectively in front of Strider and Frodo. Just as we finish readying ourselves the door to the room is thrown open and we were met by the most unlikely of foes.

"Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks," Sam shouted as he threw open the door, the light from the fireplace illuminating half of his face and the moon the other half, giving him an almost sinister look. Pippin and their final companion came bursting through the door after him, both with a gleam of adrenaline shining in their eyes at the prospect of a fight, a fight to save their beloved friend. Sam bravely help up his fists, while Pippin held a stool and their friend held a candelabrum as weapons to use against our swords. Seeing them as no foe, the five of us quickly sheathe our swords, doing our best to conceal the small smiles upon our faces at these Hobbits' courage.

Strider spoke to Sam, "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But that will not save you."

"You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming," I turned around and warned Frodo, and in turn the others; the light from the fireplace illuminating the left side of my face under my hood, revealing my blue eyes, my blond hair, and my natural Elven beauty.