Merry's POV.

I glanced down at Sria, who was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest next to me on the Ferry. Sam and Frodo were taking their turn, and I could see the dock leading up to Bree straight ahead. Pippin was our lookout. Rain poured relentlessly down on us, and I tried to comfort Sria as best I could.

I put my arm around Sria's shoulders. "We're almost there. See?"

She looked up slowly. "Will they be there?"

I shook my head. "I most certainly hope not." Sria just snuggled into me, and I held her, not exactly certain what else I could do.

When we landed and tied our Ferry to the dock, we made out way up the winding road the the gate which separated the River from Bree.

Frodo stepped up to the gate, and a Man opened the top window, evidently thinking there would be other Men. When he saw none, he opened the lower window and looked Frodo in the eye. "Hobbits! Four of them! And a little lass to boot!"

Sria blushed scarlet.

"What would you be doin' out on a night like this?" He questioned in a raspy voice.

"We seek shelter at the Inn. Our business is our own," Frodo answered as rain poured onto us, soaking us to the bone.

"All right little Master, all right, you needn't get that way," the Gates Man said, opening the entrance for us. "There's queer folk about tonight, so pardon me askin'."

Frodo merely nodded, and we walked briskly down the cobbled stone streets to the Inn, fondly named The Prancing Pony. We entered, and a short, stout man, carrying a large tray of beer, bustled past. "Be right with you!" he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the din of the crowd. Soon he returned and stood at the front desk, of which we had to look up to see properly.

Frodo cleared his throat timidly. "Excuse me?"

The Man, for which I took to be the Inn-keeper, turned around, a pleasant look upon his face. "Good evenin' little Masters, and what might I do for you? If you're looking to accommodate some space we've got some nice, cozy hobbit-size rooms available. Always proud to cater to Little Folk Mr. ...."

Frodo looked at us uneasily, and I shrugged. "Underhill. My name's Underhill. We're friends of Gandalf the Grey, can you tell him we've arrived?"

The Man looked rather confused. "Gandalf? Oh! Gandalf! Old chap, big gray beard."

Frodo nodded eagerly, but the old man grew somber. "Not seen 'im for six months."

We all got into a huddle. Sria was again so close I could feel her breath on my cheek, but I pushed every thought about it away and focused on the problem at hand.

"What do we do now?" Sam asked.

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Sria's POV.

I sat at a table in the Prancing Pony with Sam and Frodo. Merry and Pippin had gone off somewhere; likely to get more ale.

"Sam, he'll be here, he'll come." Frodo said reassuringly. I asked no questions and said nothing; I knew what was going to happen, and I didn't want to alter the story any more than it had to be.

Suddenly, I saw Merry stagger past with a mug of beer. He plopped down beside Pippin.

"What's that?" Pippin asked, wide eyed.

"This, my friend, is a pint."

"It comes in pints?"

Merry slurped in reply.

"I'm getting one." Pippin said decidedly, and he walked up to the counter.

"You've had a whole half already!" Sam protested, but I stopped him.

"He'll be okay Sam."

Suddenly Sam looked over to a corner of the Inn in alarm. "That man's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived Mr. Frodo." he pointed out. Frodo slowly and discreetly turned his head in the intended direction.

There was a cloaked figure, sitting all alone in a corner booth. I could not help but be reminded of the Black Riders, but I knew who it was. Of course, I said nothing; as not to disturb the balance of the story.

Frodo tugged on the apron of the Inn-keeper. "Excuse me,"

"Hmmm?"

"That Man in the corner, who is he?"

"E's one o' them Rangers, dangerous they are, roaming the Wilds. 'Is name I never 'erd, but round 'ere, 'e's known as Strider."

"Strider," Frodo repeated thoughtfully as the Inn-keeper walked away. His eyes became wide with fright.

I heard Pippin's high voice ring out; "Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins! He's right over there! Frodo Baggins! He's my cousin, twice removed on his mother's side."

Frodo sprang up and grabbed his cousins arm. "Pippin!"

"Steady on, Frodo!" Pippin cried, yanking his arm away. Frodo fell back onto the floor and disappeared.

I put my head in my hands. This was great. Blown cover, as I suspected.

Suddenly he reappeared, and Strider rose, taking Frodo upstairs with him.

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How am I doing? I decided to go with the movie, since the book would take too long. Shall I skip to the Mines of Moria? Please let me know what you'd like, I'm more likely to update if you comment :)

Special thanks to sweetlilangel9 and Ellie_davbot; my very first readers!