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The next day the rain had fortunately stopped, though there was still a blustery wind tugging at the branches of the trees and rattling the windows of the inn. The sun had come out, but it was having little impact on the sodden world outside. But Barliman’s guests were all relieved to be on there way. At first light, Mrs Brockbank had come knocking on the door, demanding to have her husband returned to her and the Dwarves had set off not long after.
There was only Strider the Ranger left now. He waited patiently in the common room while Barliman fetched his cloak and tunic from the kitchen.
“There you are,” said Barliman, as he gladly returned the sorry garments to their owner.
“Thank you, Barliman,” said Strider. “Your hospitality is much appreciated, as always.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of coins which he placed on the table.
“You’re welcome,” said Barliman, picking up the pieces immediately and pocketing them. The Ranger’s coin was after all as good as anybody else’s. “And where might you be heading on such a damp and windy morning, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“East, I have business far in the East.”
“Oh.” Barliman had no conception of what sort of business that could possibly be and the East sounded a very long way away. “So you’ll be heading over the
“I shall indeed,” said Strider, as he straightened his cloak and strapped his sword back around his waist.
“Well, you keep an eye out for those Stone Giants,” said Barliman, “and make sure they don’t follow you when you head back this way.”
Strider laughed. “Don’t worry, Barliman, I shall make sure no harm comes to you or the good citizens of Bree, of that I promise you. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be on my way. Farewell.” And then the ranger was gone, striding purposefully through the door on those long legs of his.
As he went, Barliman couldn’t help wondering at the strange lives these Rangers led. Who in their right mind would go wandering off into the wilds like that, looking for trouble? Still, so long as their adventures made a good yarn to entertain his customers, and they didn’t bring their troubles to his door, he was happy enough to accommodate them now and then. Who knows, they might even come in handy if those stone-giants ever made it down out of the mountains.
“I too once passed the Dimril Gate,” said Aragorn quietly; “but though I also came out again, the memory is very evil. I do not wish to enter Moria a second time.”
‘A Journey in the Dark’ The Fellowship of the Ring
[1] ‘Over Hill and Under Hill’ The Hobbit
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-03 01:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-03 06:09 pm (UTC)One day I'll finish the long story and hopefully then we'll all know what really happened!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-03 08:52 pm (UTC)I liked your Barliman, he sounded very much like the kind of English innkeeper Tolkien portrayed in LOTR, and I loved the scene in which he tells Strider where to put his chair, and Aragorn complies. I found it very a very delightful scene.
I really enjoyed reading this chapter because you get a glimpse of a relaxed Aragorn enjoying a rare moment of leisure. And that makes me happy for him. LOL
I would love to read that ongoing long WIP of yours.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-03 10:42 pm (UTC)I'm very pleased Barliman felt right. He was a fun character to try and write so I hope I did him justice.
I've only written three chapters of 'In the Dark Places' so far but once A of A is completely posted, I'll pick it up again.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-04 08:37 pm (UTC)Believe me, you did Barly justice.
In the Dark Places is a great name for a story on Moria, and I can wait for it.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-04 10:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-05 10:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-05 06:24 pm (UTC)