𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 • 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐑

03. the prancing pony

——[～Æ～]——

——[～Æ～]——

     Her dagger remained within reach through the night, even with a chair braced against the door and the window's lock set. She stayed hidden in her room until she'd watched the ranger's mottled cloak melt into the forest beyond the gates; it was just past dawn. For the first time in her passings through Bree, sun came with morning, merrily illuminating the taproom when she descended the steps. The swish of a broom's bristles and a sweet, hushed voice. The barmaid was the only life in the taproom, weaving about the tables as she sang about a girl who danced with ghosts. The cat was comfortably sprawled on the counter, watching her go about the chores.

     "G'mornin', ma'am!" the barmaid greeted Sazrat with a dimpled smile. "Sleep well, I hope?"

     "Well enough, thank you." The assassin drifted by the counter. Buttercup remained unfazed. "Would you like some help?"

     The look she was given was bordered on appalled. "Oh, certainly not, miss! You're a payin' customer. 'Tisn't fit to have you be doing my chores for me. You just sit down here and I'll see to bringin' you some breakfast."

     "Please," she laughed, "I insist."

     The girl braced her hands on her hips as she looked around, one side of her mouth drawn in thought.

     "D'you mind settin' the hearth for a fire?"

     She could only hope her smile reached her eyes. "Of course."

     The sweeping and rustling didn't perturb the stifling calm of the barmaid's yet-unspoken curiosity.

     "I don't think I caught your name when you came in last night."

     And there it was, the question she'd been waiting for.

     "Elsinore."

     "Please to make your acquaintance, Elsinore," the girl dipped her head. "I'm Miranda Butterbur. My father and I run this inn. He's out running errands, but he'll be back soon if you want to settle your bill."

     "It's a family business, than?"

     "Indeed it is. Started by my father's grandfather almost eighty years ago. I've been scrubbing dishes and cleaning rooms since I was a young'un. Only being working the tavern side since last year. I like it here. It's quiet. Nothin' unexpected or unusual ever happens in Bree."

     The older woman sat back and looked up to the window. Grey clouds encroached on the horizon. "Clearly."     "So what brings you to Bree?"

     "I'm bound for the City of Dale, across the Misty Mountains from here."

     "A long walk."

     "I have no deadlines."

     "You're not worried of being accosted on the road, then? Traveling alone as you are."