When we arrived at Bree, we had stopped at a rather large gate. How were we ever going to get in? Frodo had knocked on the gate several times.

The gatekeeper appeared and looked out the front window. The gatekeeper looked very unfriendly. He was carrying a lantern in his wrinkled hand and a light shined down on all of us.

"What do you want?" Asked the wretched gatekeeper.

"We wish to stay at the inn." Answered Frodo.

The gatekeeper leaned forward to get a better view of us. "Hmm. Hobbits. Four hobbits. And a wench."

"Now hold on just a minute!" Cried Sam. "She ain't no wench!"

"She sure does look like one." The gatekeeper chuckled. "She's all skin an' bone. It won't be long until the rats start snacking on her."

"What right do you have to tease her and call her names?! She is very ill!" Exclaimed Frodo.

"Hmm. Very well." The gatekeeper mumbled. "What business do you have here in Bree?"

"We wish to stay at the Prancing Pony. Our Business is our own."

"Alright, young sir. I meant no offense." Said the Gatekeeper, while unlocking the large gate in front of the hobbits. "Tis my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful."

After the gatekeeper had let us in, I had felt him tugging at my sleeve. "You better watch yourself, miss." The gatekeeper chuckled, ominously. "You won't last long here."

Sam had overheard what the gatekeeper had told me and apologized to me. "Don't listen to them, Ms. Brianna. None of that stuff is true. None of it."
"Are...Are you sure?" I whimpered.
The...gatekeeper....said...I wouldn't last...long here."

"Eh, They're just tryin' to scare you. Look, were almost there."
"Almost where, Sam?" I asked.

"The Prancing Pony." Said Frodo. "I hope Gandalf is there waiting for our arrival."

As we entered the Inn, we were surrounded by many loud and boisterous patrons. We stepped up to the front counter and Frodo began to speak to a large, chubby man.

"'Scuse me."

The man turned around. I noticed that he had a large brown mustache. "Good Evening, little masters. If you're seeking accommodations, we've got some nice, cozy hobbit sized rooms available. Mister..."

"Underhill." Said Frodo. "My name is Underhill."

The innkeeper pointed towards me and lowered his eyebrows. "And who is she?" He asked curiously.

Frodo turned around and looked at me, then he looked back at the Innkeeper with his wife blue eyes.

"She doesn't wish to say, I'm afraid." Frodo interrupted.

"Oh, I'm very sorry. I see where you are coming from. Terribly sorry, sir. Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Underhill?"

"Yes, actually. We're friends of Gandalf the Grey. Can you tell him we've arrived?"

"Gandalf?" muttered the Innkeeper. "Gandalf. Oh yes! I remember! Elderly chap, big grey beard, pointy hat. I haven't seen him for six months."

Frodo frowned in disappointment. "What do we do now?" Sam asked Frodo, anxiously.

I suddenly grew very drowsy and I began coughing like crazy. "What are we going to do about Brianna, Mr. Frodo? We can't leave her here!" Sam panicked.

"I'll ask for a room and I'll get her something to eat. Sam, can you please take her with you?"

"Of course, Mr. Frodo. I will make sure she's safe and sound."

Frodo walked back up to the front counter. "How can I help you, Master Underhill?" Asked the Innkeeper, in a polite and courteous manner.

"Are there any rooms available?" Asked Frodo.

"Why, yes." The innkeeper smiled. I'll show you to your room, sir."

"Thank you." Frodo walked away from the counter and headed over towards Sam, who wasn't too far ahead.

"I'm coming with you, Sam. Before you leave, make sure you tell Merry and Pippin to not get into any sort of trouble."

"Will do, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo found Merry and Pippin engaging in a conversation. "Excuse me, Merry and Pippin. Would you find us somewhere to sit?"

"Very well, Frodo." Sighed Merry. "Come along, Pip."