[piosenniel]

Bullroarer tossed and turned in his bedroll. Too much to think about. Still too many dangers to worry about on the road ahead. Tomorrow shouldn’t be bad, though, he reassured himself. They would return to the Great East Road and travel to Bree. Stay at the Prancing Pony, he thought. His mouth watered at the thought of a pint of the Pony’s nut brown ale and a leisurely smoke, with feet propped up on the hearth, in front of a lovely fire in the Common Room fireplace.

He pushed down further beneath his blankets. Despite the shelter of the barrow, it was still cold, and he rubbed his feet together to warm them. Wide awake, he thought with pleasure about the treasures they had found to bring to Elrond. It had made him uncomfortable when they first started out that they should go begging to their neighbors to the southeast. But now they had some small things to offer in return for the Elves’ graciousness.

The companions had done well in finding some small weapons for themselves. It would at least give them some courage and boost their spirits to go on. He sighed, knowing that should they face any large dangers, the company would be hard put to survive it. A thought came to him, and he nudged Branda, who lay huddled not too far from him.

‘Are you awake? I need to tell you something.’ The other Hobbit groaned and opened one bleary eye to the Took. ‘I’m awake now. Is something happening? Is it morning? Should we get the others up?’ He sat up, looking toward Bullroarer’s form in the darkness.

‘No, it’s not day yet. I want you to remind me of something before we start out tomorrow. I have a number of thick branches stowed in the wagon, enough for each of us to have one. They have a good coating of pitch at one end and will blaze up hot and bright when we light them. We may need them should we find ourselves facing another danger. I want the others to know where they are and what they’re for.’

Branda sat there in silence. Taking it as an assent, Bullroarer said, ‘That’s all! You can go back to sleep now.’ He rolled over, his mind peaceful and dropped off to dreaming. Branda shook his head, muttered slightly to himself, and crawled back under his blankets.

Bullroarer nudged him again. 'One more thing. I've been thinking over those arrows you found. You're right. They are of Orcish origin and should go to one of the more experienced bowmen. Though, I don't think I want the other companions to have to deal with them. Make them too queasy and possibly hesitant to use them if they thought they were Orcish.

I'll keep them if you don't mind. I did bring a bow, though I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. Once we are out in the open - past Bree, I'll keep it closer by me, along with these arrows.' Bullroarer sighed in the dark, and sent a small plea that there would be no call to use them.

Branda sighed, and held his breath, waiting for "just one more thought" to come issuing from the Took. But soon, all he heard was the gentle rumbling of a snore from his direction. Once more, Branda crawled beneath his blankets and sought sleep.

********************

The Hobbits were up early, eager to leave the barrow behind them. A hasty breakfast, and a quick packing saw them heading back north to the road. Bullroarer was the last to leave the barrow, making sure nothing was left behind. He stowed the box with the Elven gifts below his seat in the wagon. Pausing briefly before climbing aboard, he turned toward the barrow and placed his right hand over his heart, in the manner of the Elves and the Men of Old.

‘Thank you.’ he murmured. ‘May your rest now remain undisturbed.’ A small breeze from the north, picked up his words and carried them in its cold hands.

Late afternoon found the companions at the West-Gate of Bree. The Gatekeeper inquired about their business, and waved them in, shutting the gate firmly behind them. A further half mile down the road and they entered the courtyard of the Prancing Pony.

Smiles lit up the faces of the Hobbits. Bullroarer had them bring the wagon to the stable. All the ponies were put into stalls, and the Took gave the stable girl a silver penny to see to their good care. She beamed at him, saying they would be fat and sassy and coats gleaming when the companions left the next day.

Bullroarer took the box with the Elven gifts into the Inn, and paid for a number of Hobbit sized rooms to accommodate their group. Soon the packs were stored in the rooms and the Hobbits met downstairs to look for a bite to eat and something other than melted snow to slake their thirst. Bullroarer ordered drinks all around for the companions, and some bread and cheese to tide them over to supper.

Tankard in hand, smoke rings flying upward in the heat of the fire, Bullroarer sat at ease just as he’d hoped. He sighed in contentment from the simple pleasures – ale, pipeweed, the warmth of the fire on his feet, and the relaxed, smiling faces of his companions.

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]