Mo Ghile Mear

An Old Friend

*Athena's POV*

Everything was such a blur as we made our way to Bree, a location that Gandalf told us to stop at. By then, it was pouring down rain, and all of us had our hoods drawn over our heads to keep them from getting wet. But we were still soaked through, anyways.

"C'mon!" said Frodo as he looked cautiously from left to right before we all sprinted silently across the road to the entrance of Bree. He knocked on the door and I heard a man mumbling behind the door, to himself.

"What d'you want?" said an impatient voice.

"We wish to stay at the inn," Frodo answered. "Our business is our own."

The gatekeeper did not look too pleased.

"Alright, young sir," he grumbled. "I meant no offense. It's my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful, now."

We made our way into Bree. The small town didn't seem to change at all. The people were rude and the place was intimidating at night. I was relieved when we'd entered the inn we were staying at, and gave a huge sigh of relief, taking off my hood. The other hobbits around me followed suit. Pippin shook his head like a wet dog. Daisy grumbled, stumbling out of the way as little droplets of water showered the air.

"Excuse me?" I said cautiously to the bartender. He looked friendly enough as he peered over the counter.

"Good evening, ma'am," said the bartender. "If you're looking for some rooms, we've got some cozy hobbit-holes for you, Mr. . ." He glanced over at the hobbits. 

"Underhill," Frodo answered at once. "My name's Underhill."

"Underhill, yes?" said the bartender suspiciously.

"We've come to see Gandalf the Gray," I put in, hoping to distract the bartender for at least a little bit. "Can you tell him we've arrived?"

I was shocked whenever the bartender looked confused, muttering Gandalf's name for a few seconds before his eyes lit up.

"Oh!" he said. "I remember, now! Elderly chap. Big grey beard and pointy hat, yes?"

I nodded, relieved that he remembered.

The happy smile turned into a frown whenever he spoke again. "I haven't seen him in six months, now."

That was like a blow in the face. I blinked furiously several times, trying to process what he just said.

"What do we do, now?" Sam hissed anxiously behind me.

"We'll stay until Gandalf comes," I answered, trying to stay positive. "Three rooms, please?" I added to the bartender, who was keeping a close eye on us the entire time.

"The hobbits had already gathered at a table they'd found for themselves. Sera and Daisy were talking to each other in low voices. For once, fear was dancing around in Daisy's eyes. It had just occurred to me that I'd never seen Daisy look scared before. She must be terrified at what was going on. Sera was tensed, her muscles stiff. Her jaw was set and her eyes tight.

Merry came back with some sort of drink, a dreamy look on his face.

"What's that?" said Pippin, who was watching.

"This, my friend, is a pint," said Merry with great relish as he began to tilt the mug back into his mouth.

"It comes in pints?" said Pippin in an awed voice.

"Hmph!" said Merry, who was now taking a gulp of whatever was in his mug.

"I'm getting one," Pippin announced, abandoning his current ale.