The Shadow Walker

7. Meeting Gandalf's Pet

It took me two hours to find the blasted Hobbit. When I did, he was sitting in the pub area of a dingy inn, warming his bare feet by the fire and smoking. I wanted to stuff that bloody pipe up his nose. I was so finished with this entire mission.

Content that the inconvenient monster was safe for the time being, I went back outside. I located the nearest horse trough, hung my satchel on the hitching post, and jumped in. Swords and all. Cold, cold, cold! Mentally apologizing to whatever unsuspecting creature took a swig from this trough next, I sloshed off as much manure as I could. Then I got out, shook off like a dog, grabbed my stuff, and returned to the Inn at the Prancing Pony.

"Hello, lass," said the barkeep, a rather tall human with a kindly expression. "You look like you could use a seat by the fire and a proper meal."

I reluctantly nodded. Ordinarily, I would turn down such luxuries; I always carried sustenance with me, and I rarely had the funds for a hot meal. But I'd just been paid. And lembas bread gets old after a few months of nothing but.

"That'll be two silver coins," he said. "But, go over to the fire and have a seat. You can pay when I bring your food."

"Thank you," I said, and trudged over to the fire. There were no unoccupied seats by the fire, though a good half-dozen or more were semi-circled around around the glow. Keeping my head down, I moved to the wall where the fire was situated, ironically, behind the seat that Bilbo occupied. Leaning against the warm hearth, I shivered and tried not to draw too much attention to myself.

Then that little tickle came up in the back of my nose. And you know what? I had been stifling my sneezes and sniffles all day long. Here, I was just another invisible customer.

"AaaaaaaaCHOOOOOOO!!!"

Oh, that felt so good.

Bilbo twisted around in his seat, and I froze under his kind gaze. "Are you alright, miss?"

Was I alright? How was I supposed to answer? Terrible, thanks. "I... uhh..."

"Here, lass," he said, standing and putting his pipe in his mouth. "Have a seat by the fire. You look positively exhausted."

Before I could refuse, he took my arm and pulled me around to the front of the seat, then gently pushed me in. I sank into the cushions, and shivered as his leftover warmth soaked into me. "Th-thank you," I murmured.

His eyes skimmed over me, worry etched across his features, and he said, "You look like you've had a bloody awful night."

I wearily looked him in the eye. "You have no. Freaking. Clue."

The barkeep came over, carrying a tray, and he set it in my lap. "Here you are, lass. You eat up, now."

I pulled Gandalf's worn money pouch from my satchel, all too aware of the alert gazes of the other men surrounding the fire. Glaring at them, I pulled out two silver coins and handed them to the barkeep. "Thank you," I said.

He left, and I dipped my bread crust into the steaming soup and took a bite. Yum.

Bilbo seated himself on the hearth and nibbled on the mouthpiece of his pipe. "So. Where are you from?"

I froze and glanced at him.

He shrugged and gave a chuckle. "I only thought to make conversation," he said gently.

I hesitated, then said in a curt tone, "Dale."

Bilbo's eyes brightened. "Really? What's it like these days?"

I swallowed, relishing the feeling of warm food wiggling down into my stomach. "Busy." I took another bite, and spoke through my food. "You're familiar with the area?"

"Oh-ho!" Bilbo spoke through a chuckle. "Yes. Well, I was. But that was sixty years ago. ..."

"That would've been about when Smaug burned down Laketown," I said.

"Aye," Bilbo replied, his voice nearly a whisper. "It was."

"Did you see it happen?"

"Nearly." He turned and gave me a sad smile. "I was in Erebor at the time."

"Erebor!" I exclaimed.

"Aye." His eyes took on a mischievous light. "Would you like to hear the story?"

"Yes!"

"Well then." He settled back and took a draw from his pipe. "It began... well, it began as you might expect it to begin. It began in a hole in the ground. Not a nasty, dirty hole, with worms and oozing smells - it was a Hobbit hole, with a full pantry, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home. ..."