Veiled Stars » LotR [1] ✔️

Chapter Seven: Concerning Hobbits

The night air hung with death.

Thunder boomed like cannon fire, the rain pelting down relentlessly from the dark sky.

Four figures hurried down the flooding streets, their heads held low and faces hidden by water soaked hoods. Fear was in the air; fear radiating off the childlike figures as they hurried toward the bright inn.

For they were being hunted.

And they had no idea how much time was left before their presence was discovered again.

At the tavern door, Frodo Baggins stopped, ushering his friends in first. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder, searching the dark streets.

Nothing moved.

Trying to shake off his worry, Frodo followed them inside, instantly met with musty air and drunken laughter.

"Look for Gandalf," Frodo whispered to his friends, searching the room with his own eyes.

There were many groups of men, some on the brink of drunk and others just plain wasted. Frodo noticed with a slight shudder that there were a few who watched the newcomers with sudden interest, their beady eyes glinting in the light.

He also noticed that he did not recognize a single familiar face.

Where was Gandalf?

"Excuse me." He called toward the counter, edging closer. For a moment nobody answered and Frodo feared he would be left ignored.

Then a scruffy face popped over the top, a friendly grin forming as he took in the four hobbits.

"Well hello, little masters! What can I get for you?"

Frodo glanced around the room again, then leaned in closer, dropping his voice. "We're looking for someone, Gandalf the Grey. Have you heard of him?"

For a second, the man pondered, scrunching up his eyes. Then his smile blossomed again and Frodo's heart soared. "Tall old man, long grey beard. Wears a pointy hat?"

Frodo nodded eagerly. "Yes, that's him."

Then his heart plummeted as the man shook his head. "Aven't seen him en' months"

Frodo's face fell.

"What do we do now, Mr. Frodo?" One of his companions asked, leaning in close.

Frodo swallowed hard, looking around the room again.

"All that we can do. We must wait, Sam."

Overhearing their conversation, the innkeeper raised a brow. "I'll keep an eye out for yer friend, if you'd like. What name should I give if he arrives?"

For a second Frodo hesitated. Then, "U-Underhill."

A quick look of uncertainty flashed through the innkeeper's eyes, but upon seeing Frodo's set face, he nodded with another smile. "Very well, Mr. Underhill. I'll alert you if this Gandalf arrives."

Quickly Frodo thanked him and then the four figures cautiously trudged through the crowd.

Legolas sat tensed against the tavern corner, his hood pulled up over his face.

Beside him sat another cloaked figure, holding a pipe between his fingers. He was more relaxed though, leaning slouched against the wall.

Legolas didn't know how his friend was so laid back, especially as the night went on. He could not keep his eyes off the room of men, a hand constantly kept near the knife at his side.