All misty morning was he staring at some gate of Bree. Understanding he could not process a recent nightmare, Nomo searched for a way to end on a better note, since this would mark his last journey outside the Shire.
"Nay, no dwarf. Hobbit. What business?"
"I'm looking for the nearest inn before I go home."
"Inn, ye say? Oy, didn't see ye. Well, nearest inn…" The old guardsman kept on babbling about which ones rather to avoid and did not notice how Paltin disappeared.
"Excuse me, are you open?"
The innkeeper knitted his brows at the sight of Paltin while clearing his bar. The hobbit was just standing around and approached the corner table closest to him.
"Hey, you! Get over here," some hooded man shouted, next to a woman.
Took three, four moments to realize the two were eyeballing him, so he left the spot and joined them.
On a chair in here, anything and everybody appeared as so unusually large… "Lucky a certain someone didn't show, else 'd get yer arse kicked, lil guy." … and what a weird thing to say for introduction. "… Maybe killed?" "Do you serve tea?" Nomo responded with an open request, but no one seemed to have heard it.
The woman smirked before waving the owner over, who then started to move towards the table in slow motion.
"I thin' someone stole your 'ware, badmouthed ye."
"Oh, really? Who." As the innkeeper drew closer, Paltin tried to forget what was being grasped. Lump in the throat and bellyache. Shiver.
"Som' curious hobbat, must have left just now. Hey, wha' 'bou this one?"
"Well, what about this one?" The butcher's belly was dangerously hanging over their table, goggling right down with his psycho eyes.
With a swing of her head, "Tell him yer nem," she casually said.
"P-p-p-p-p-p-p… PALtin. N-N-Nmo Plaltin, a-at y-your service," he was attempting to squeak out. When Nomo could look up again, the innkeeper had already gone back behind the counter, placed a dead chicken on it.
"Not many come here, I wonder why that is?" he spoke, delivering the blow loud enough to make their newest guest completely twitch. "Tough luck," the hooded man commented.
And continued, "What to blame? Certainly no rainwater through the rotten wood above us, dem parched potflowers, cobweb, or take missy here. In fact, she worked as a—"
"ONE WORD, AH slice ya tongue!" she screeched like a viper with a table knife pointed at that lad out of a reflex that got her frozen into position. The little hobbit could not figure out whether she really meant it. "It's aight, Daisy. Calm down, my love."
When others entered, she dropped it annoyedly, drank from her mug.
"Pretty crowded, huh. Things might get dangerous." The keeper's voice turning sinister. "To think of it, who says there was enough time to reach that door behind of ye?"
"Cut it off, fatso. Enough of that."
"It already…" Also reminded of preparing the meal, so he shoved the poor joke back to where it had come from, mumbling a vague question about heaven's opposite.
"Truth told," he sighed, "ain't free of commoner rules, even here. Drunken fights, aye, but last time anyone lost mind 'n attempted somethin', had to take him down. Guards agreed." Sinking into his drink, further, "I think he wished for it."
"W-why run an inn like that, sir?"
"'cause I might be one of 'em, what d'ye believe?" Twisting his mouth, he shook his head as his attention shifted to the cloaked messenger.
"Well, I…" Nomo fell silent. By the time he found his sentence, nobody remembered the exchange. "for my part, believe it honorable… Everyone deserves a normal life."
The man carried on uttering information at him, yet the innkeeper got too distracted by Nomo; some insight almost able to match the guts of this room, let alone the chicken's on the counter. The messenger seated himself at the bar to tell him again later.
The mood lightened over the course of time 'n watery ales, even the darkest figure 'round once turned to drop a comment at their direction.
Meanwhile, the three were sharing experiences of their past, whereby the hobbit was surprised the owner put a cup from the hand in front of his nose, then added, "So, any name?" Paltin sniffed at it and a tiny sip. Indeed, it was green tea, and for the moment, he was gazing into space till registering something half-whispered near the ear, the woman, "Ye're afraid o' the guards, ain't ye? Because Ah sure as hell am." Still not entirely sure of why one would undertake those prolonged strolls which could lead to such a place, one notion about the nightmares became quite apparent, as well what had made him wake up this morning. He realized, the more people he encountered, the deeper he felt that life was a giant farewell. "Nomo Paltin." Breath reply. The hobbit was scouting around, glances traded, a few nods, somebody raised a mug.
"And I wish to sing you all a song."
The woman gulped with her entire body; foam seeped out between her lips—only now has he noticed how neither of her eyes were able to align, as she was giggling like a little girl and spat, "O, is that so?!"
