Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2005-06-21 09:03 pm
sophinisba) wrote2005-06-21 09:03 pm
Entry tags:
A Brief Adventure, chapter 2
There ought to be an "evil" mood icon, for posts in which we impose unnecessary suffering on our hobbits. *shuffles feet*
A Brief Adventure, chapter 1
Title: A Brief Adventure, chapter 2 of maybe 6.
Author: Sophinisba Solis
Rating: PG
Summary: Frodo and Merry attempt an adventure to celebrate Merry's coming of age. They find much has changed since news last traveled from Bree. Frodo (surprise!) gets in some trouble.
Disclaimer: Of course, of course I don't own these characters or their setting, and I make no money by writing about them.
Warnings: AU and fairly silly. Some violence in this chapter.
A/N: Thanks again to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilybaggins for beta reading and many other kindnesses.
Chapter 2
Night had fallen completely and it had begun to rain in earnest by the time Frodo made it back to the hostel. The lamps on the buildings had all been put out, and no light from the moon or stars filtered through the low clouds. For all his feigned confidence, Frodo felt lost and uneasy. He was eager to be reunited with Merry and safe inside, even though he did not expect the hostel to be comfortable. Once again he found himself standing in the cold, muddy street, pounding at a wooden door, unsure of what he would find inside but desperate to be let in. Once again, a tall man opened the door, and Frodo nearly stumbled inside but was caught by strong hands.
This man was somewhat shorter than the ranger but bulkier, and his harshness seemed to Frodo less dignified. He pushed the hobbit back out toward the street. "Closed," was all he said.
"Whatever can you mean?" Frodo asked, exasperated. "I saw you attend to a line of hobbits not half an hour ago."
"No admittance after eight o'clock." The man attempted to shut the door, but Frodo pushed halfway inside and stubbornly held it open.
"This is absurd," said Frodo. "My companion has already gone inside, and surely he must have told you I would be joining him."
"No admittance after eight o'clock."
"Where am I meant to go," Frodo insisted, his voice rising in anger, "if the curfew forbids me to be on the streets at night, the men's inns turn away all hobbits at the door, and you follow a strict schedule of which I was not informed?"
The man grinned. "Ah, little master, that's not my problem, is it? Perhaps you and your companion will think better next time before leaving the Shire and venturing places you're not wanted. Bree-folk would be better off without your lot corrupting them."
"Ah, but then where would you and I be, Gormen?" A woman appeared at his side, tall and slender and with a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes. She looked down at Frodo with a cold smile and spoke in a smooth voice. "Caught outside after curfew, were you, sir?" There was no respect in the title the way she spoke it. "Through no fault of your own? Step inside and let's get this door closed, not have our whispers carrying through the night, and we'll see what kind of solution we can come up with."
Frodo took a few steps forward and heard the door close behind him, not at all certain that his situation had improved. He now stood in a small entryway and the door to the main part of the hostel, where he supposed Merry was locked inside and waiting for him, was still closed. The two big people towered above him and the man, Gormen, so fierce a few moments ago, now looked somewhat nervous and hesitant in the presence of the lady. "There's rangers about, Ilga, and rules to be followed. It's not all up to us what we…" She silenced him with a look.
Frodo, not wishing to remain passive in this situation, took up the woman's first question. "She's right, you know," he said to Gormen. "If we Shire-folk kept within our borders, or if all hobbits kept to themselves, you'd not be able to make the outrageous profit I imagine you do on us. What was it? Twenty coins for nothing more than a bed in a barracks for the night?"
"Don't be so harsh then, Mr.…"
"Baggins," Frodo filled in, not softening his voice.
"Mr. Baggins," she repeated. There was a slight pause, and Frodo wondered how well his name -- Bilbo's, that is -- might be known to the folk of Bree, and how much it was connected to stories of wealth and treasure. But the woman continued seriously, "My husband and I provide a needed service at a price that the market seems to support, seeing as we're nearly full every night. Now, I can't say I myself agree with all the new regulations that the mayor's instituted over the past few months. It's true it's helped our business that the inns in the center are now for Big Folk only, but who is really helped by our closing our doors to new arrivals so early in the evening?"
There was a conspiratorial tone to the woman's speech that Frodo did not trust in the least. He gazed at her warily and said nothing.
"No one at all," she answered herself, smiling again. "An absurd little rule, as you put it, and that's why we're willing to negotiate with you as far as looking past that. Do you take my meaning, Mr. Baggins?"
"Of course," said Frodo levelly, "you're asking me for a bribe."
"She certainly is not," huffed the man, "and don't you go accusing my wife of such a thing, you little--"
"Oh really, dear," Ilga cut in, "no need to fly off the handle." She smiled at Frodo and shook her head, as if to apologize for her husband's short temper. "I'm sure Mr. Baggins just misunderstood. 'Bribe' is an ugly word, sir, but you must understand that by bending the rules with you hobbits we are taking on a risk. The Bree lawmen come around to inspect us regularly, and you never know when those rangers may be lurking about. We need to protect our investments, you know."
Frodo had little hope of winning these two over with logic and reason, but he felt it was worth a try anyway. He spoke slowly and calmly: "If you feel the rule is absurd, or unjust, as I believe it to be, then you should say so, as I have done. You should say so to the lawmen and the rangers and the mayor, as I shall attempt to do tomorrow, and so should all the good men and women and hobbits of Bree." They were both smirking at him now, but Frodo continued unabashed. "Furthermore, you should be ashamed to be taking advantage of other laws which you know to be unjust, making your living by cheating honest hobbits who have no other option than to take shelter in this miserable excuse for a hostel." Frodo paused and doubt returned to him at his own words. For the truth was, he had no other option than to stay here, unfair as the prices and the demands of the attendants might be.
Gormen seemed to read his thoughts and chuckled. "You're not exactly in a position to be telling us what to do, are you, little master?" He patted Frodo's head with mock affection, and Frodo stepped away in disgust.
Ilga's smile was gone. "It'll be thirty coins for the night," she said. "Special exception."
"I want no special exceptions," said Frodo. "I want a fair price for a night's lodging."
"Can't stop talking about 'just' and 'fair', this one," Gormen laughed. "We need to do it all by the book with him. Very well, sir, and your papers, please?"
"I don't understand," said Frodo, losing confidence again.
"All travelers --men, dwarves, and hobbits-- are required to carry identification these days," Ilga informed him. "And don't go telling us you didn't know -- that's no excuse and makes no difference to the village officials when they come to inspect my books."
Frodo hesitated, but he spoke the first thought that came to him anyway. "My cousin," he said faintly, "he carried no such papers."
"Which one was that?" Ilga asked her husband.
"The other Shireling," Gormen answered, opening a large ledger book and pointing with one finger. "Meriadoc Brandybuck," he read out loud. "Don't you remember? Almost as proud as this one, but he was willing to negotiate in the end, paid us twenty-five so we'd not make a fuss about the papers."
Strider had said that Shire hobbits were too proud for their own good, but Frodo now felt that Merry had not been proud enough. By paying the bribe, he had tacitly accepted the idea that he had broken a rule, done something wrong. Frodo would not stand for this. "I will pay twenty coins," he said steadily.
"You'll pay thirty," Ilga contradicted, "as I told you before."
"I will not," said Frodo.
"What do you mean to do?" asked Gormen, "sleep on the streets? Tonight's weather is not the best for it, and anyway I doubt you'd avoid the lawmen till morning."
"Allow me to speak to my cousin," said Frodo. It was true he didn't know what he would do. Merry already had his night's lodging, as uncomfortable as it looked to be, and was unlikely to support any plan Frodo brought him of venturing back outside. And anyway, Frodo had no real plan. Strider had specifically told him not to return to Shem's place, and no else in the village had even been civil to them. Somehow though, Frodo knew his next step must be to let Merry know what was going on.
"You'll speak to him once you quit arguing and pay the thirty coins," Ilga said with impatience.
"What can your purpose possibly be in not allowing me to speak with one of your guests?" Frodo demanded, genuinely confounded. "Or perhaps I should say one of your inmates," he added.
"The lady's just trying to make clear to you, since your little hobbit brain can't seem to understand, that you'll be paying the thirty, one way or another." Both Gormen and his wife seemed completely secure in this statement.
"This is nonsense," said Frodo, turning back toward the outer door. "I'll find my cousin in the morning, when you release him."
"Think we'll be releasing you so soon, then?" said Gormen, laying a heavy hand on Frodo's shoulder. Frodo stilled.
"Do you mean to hold me prisoner in the entryway of your hostel?" Frodo asked, not turning to face them.
"Hold you in custody till the lawmen arrive," said the man, tightening his grip and holding Frodo in place. Frodo thought he might be able to squirm away, but he also knew the door was locked, and these two would catch hold of him again before he made it outside. Wishing to avoid violence, he kept still. Gormen removed the pack from his shoulders and tossed it to the side.
Ilga opened the inner door and Frodo made to shout for Merry, but he found that Gormen had already moved closer, wrapping one strong arm around the hobbit's torso and both arms, using the other to cover his mouth. Frodo did squirm and fight then, but he was unable to break free from the man's grasp. He heard Ilga call inside, "Bornen, come here, I need you to run an errand for me."
Frodo, facing the outer door, was unable to see, but he heard steps approaching and then the inner door closed again. "Must I go outside, Mum?" a young voice asked. "It's raining now."
"Well, that's up to Mr. Baggins here," said Gormen. Carefully, without releasing his grip on Frodo, who was still struggling in his arms, he shifted the two of them around to face what Frodo now saw was a human boy. He was no taller than a hobbit, but he had a more sinewy build to his body and a sullen look to his face. The boy also had his father's sneer. "Mr. Baggins doesn't like our policies or our prices here at the hostel," Gormen continued, "so he's trying to decide if he'd rather spend the night here or in jail. If he chooses jail, we'll need you to run down to the guard station. What say you, master hobbit? But don't be trying to shout again, we're civilized types here."
Frodo had stilled again, conserving his energy once he realized how useless the fight was. The man slowly moved the hand away from his mouth and up into his damp hair. A slight tug served as a warning that Frodo not try to move again. "I have committed no crime," Frodo whispered.
"All travelers," Ilga stated, "are required to carry identification papers. It seems you have none. Besides that, you showed up at our doors after curfew. Couldn't have been up to no good, out on the village streets at night. The authorities like to be kept informed of hobbit vagrancy, you know."
"Let me go," said Frodo.
"Thirty coins," she answered.
Bornen's eyes flashed back and forth between the speakers with fascination. Frodo would not submit to this coercion in his presence. "No," Frodo said clearly.
Ilga only nodded to her son, and he grinned and dashed to the door. Frodo heard him undo the locks and slip outside. Ilga locked the door again behind him.
Frodo thought to stave off approaching panic by continuing his conversation with the two big people, as if he were not quite helpless in the man's grasp. "When they come," he said quietly, "I will inform them that you offered to let me stay without the papers in exchange for a bribe."
"And who do you expect they'll believe?" Ilga said behind his back. "A halfling vagrant, or an upstanding businesswoman like myself?"
"But you do it all the time," Frodo countered. "There must be dozens of hobbits that would testify to how you 'bend the rules.' Besides that, there's proof, you can't possibly produce the identification papers for all the hobbits you have staying here."
"Are you meaning to get your Brandybuck relation hauled off to jail as well?" said Gormen, sounding amused. "Some friend you are to him."
"Any halfling we bent the rules for was already breaking the rules himself," said Ilga, walking back towards the inner door. She paused and turned back to Frodo with a hand on the door handle. "It's time I make sure they're all settled in inside, before I put out the lamps," she said. "But should I tell Mr. Brandybuck to pack up his things and come join you on your way?"
Frodo shook his head in frustration. "Tell him…" he began, but Gormen clamped the hand over his mouth again. Frodo found it difficult to breathe and concentrated on keeping his breath steady. Ilga stepped inside and out of sight.
"Just don't want you disturbing the other halflings," Gormen explained cheerfully. "Like the mistress said, they'll be settling in for the night, don't need to be bothered by your ravings."
Frodo still wasn't sure whether to believe that he would be carried off by the law for nothing more than arriving at a hostel at night, but he couldn’t imagine where else the boy would have gone to. Surely Frodo wouldn't be kept more than a night, he reasoned. And surely someone would inform Merry as to what had happened. Nevertheless, when the door to the inside opened again, Frodo tried his hardest to shout through the man's hand and managed an indistinct noise. In response, Gormen tightened his hold on Frodo's chest, further impeding his breathing. Without hesitating, Ilga walked up to them and slapped Frodo across the face.
The shock of it hurt him more than the actual pain. He hadn't been intentionally struck since he was a child, and then only on a few occasions that stuck out in his memory, usually in confrontations with other lads. And he had done nothing to harm these two. He was suddenly eager for the lawmen to arrive, so that he might report the behavior of this couple and feel safer in the custody of the law.
"You're thinking," said Ilga, "that Gormen and I are the rule-breakers, but it's only you, Mr. Baggins. If we wanted to…"
"Could you hurry up, Ilga?" said the man. "My arms are getting tired."
To Frodo's surprise, the woman knelt down in front of him then. "Don't interrupt, dear," she ordered her husband, "I was getting to that." She pulled Frodo's hands together and, although Gormen's hand on his face kept him from looking down, Frodo could feel her binding his wrists together with a thin rope. "If we wanted to," she continued, "we could go through your things now and take what we wanted." She spoke softly and close to his ear, "I know your name, sir. I know of another halfling by that name who passed through these parts carrying loads of treasure. I suspect you carry more than thirty coins, but I'll tell you what matters more to me." She drew away again and pulled at the bonds to check their tightness before standing up and speaking in her normal voice. "It matters that you understand your place."
Frodo tried pulling his hands apart, but the rope only bit into his skin. Ilga smiled. "All right," she said, "you've tested it now, you see that my knots don't give. Now, I can hit much harder than I did, and Gormen here can hit harder than I can. I don't think any of us wants that. Can we trust you to keep still and quiet until the lawmen arrive? Can my husband rest his arms a bit now?"
Gormen loosened his hand enough that Frodo was able to nod his head in agreement. The pressure of arms around him gradually eased and Frodo took several deep breaths. Gormen kept a strong hand on Frodo's upper arm. He and Ilga stood close and watched him, and Frodo kept his eyes on the ground. "They'll be able to tell if you've beaten me," he said quietly.
"They'll beat you themselves if you give them too much lip," said Ilga without concern.
Frodo didn't know how much to believe from these two, but the threat seemed quite plausible. He felt the lack of food and rest, the fatigue of a long day's walk and the stress of his current predicament, all of it suddenly seeming to center in his knees. "I would like to sit down," he said.
"Hear that?" said Gormen. "He's scared enough now but he still doesn't like to ask for permission. Say it, halfling: 'May I sit down.'"
"May I sit down, please," Frodo repeated dully, still looking at the ground. Gormen moved his hand to Frodo's shoulder and shoved him down with a jerk. Rather than resist him, Frodo fell to his knees and then crossed his legs and did his best to relax.
"That's what I like to see," said Ilga. "Calm, polite, low to the ground." Frodo's face burned, but he said nothing. There was a pause before the woman spoke again. "Now, we could still tell them it was a false alarm, if you're willing to pay for that." Frodo shook his head. "I didn't think so," she remarked. "Gormen, you can handle this by yourself, I believe. Mr. Baggins, I need to step inside again. We don't need to put anything in your mouth, do we? You can hold your tongue a little while longer?" Frodo felt humiliated but powerless. He nodded silently.
Once Ilga had gone in, Gormen pulled a chair closer so he could sit facing Frodo and keep a hand on his shoulder more comfortably. "Shouldn't take much longer for them to arrive," he said conversationally. "The station's a few blocks away, but my boy's pretty quick, and I think he's eager to see this. Not many of the hobbits stand up to us like this, so he doesn't get such a show very often."
"Please," said Frodo cautiously, "I'm very hungry and I have some food in my pack. Would you untie my hands and allow me…"
"I don't think so, little master."
"Would you please give my things to my cousin then? And tell him where to seek me in the morning?"
"I told you, Mr. Baggins, we've sent the guests to sleep and put out the lights. No good disturbing them at this hour."
He stopped speaking and Frodo heard noises from outside. A firm hand knocked at the door and Gormen tugged at Frodo's shoulder. "Get up, halfling," he said. Frodo walked with him to the door.
The two men who tramped inside with Bornen did not look pleased. "Drag us outside in this weather for the sake of some wandering halfling, Gormen?" said the first one to enter, shaking water out of his hair and stamping mud on the floor. "You couldn't make other arrangements, as usual?"
Ilga had been right. It would do no good to report the hostellers' infractions to these men.
"What can I tell you, Bert, this one's special," Gormen said apologetically. "Or he thinks so, anyway. No arrangements for him, he says it ain't fair to make him pay extra." All the men grinned, as did the young boy. Frodo shuddered.
The man who had spoken before tested the rope around Frodo's wrists. "Thanks for getting this started for us, anyway," he said. "Ben, see about his feet, would you?" A younger and slightly larger man stepped forward, pulled out another short length of rope from his belt, and knelt down to set about binding Frodo's ankles together.
"There's no need for this," Frodo said in alarm, wincing as the man pulled the cord tighter. "I'll go with you peacefully… I've done nothing wrong," he added, knowing this last statement would make no difference to them.
"I've no doubt you'll go peacefully," said the older man, "but we'll go faster with Ben here carrying you than you will on your little hobbit legs, and I don't mean to be outside any longer than necessary tonight." He lowered his voice. "Can't have you kicking him, can we?" He nodded to the other, and before Frodo knew what was happening the big man punched him hard in the stomach, knocking the breath out of Frodo and making him double over in pain. Frodo was unable to cry out or control his movements at all, and was only half aware of being picked up off the ground and slung back over Ben's shoulder.
"Thanks for nothing, Gormen," Bert called as he opened the door again.
"Only did it out of respect for the law," the hosteller answered back, and Frodo heard the two of them laugh as if from a great distance, heard the roar of wind and rain much closer, and felt himself begin to drown.
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A Brief Adventure, chapter 1
Title: A Brief Adventure, chapter 2 of maybe 6.
Author: Sophinisba Solis
Rating: PG
Summary: Frodo and Merry attempt an adventure to celebrate Merry's coming of age. They find much has changed since news last traveled from Bree. Frodo (surprise!) gets in some trouble.
Disclaimer: Of course, of course I don't own these characters or their setting, and I make no money by writing about them.
Warnings: AU and fairly silly. Some violence in this chapter.
A/N: Thanks again to
lilybaggins for beta reading and many other kindnesses.Chapter 2
Night had fallen completely and it had begun to rain in earnest by the time Frodo made it back to the hostel. The lamps on the buildings had all been put out, and no light from the moon or stars filtered through the low clouds. For all his feigned confidence, Frodo felt lost and uneasy. He was eager to be reunited with Merry and safe inside, even though he did not expect the hostel to be comfortable. Once again he found himself standing in the cold, muddy street, pounding at a wooden door, unsure of what he would find inside but desperate to be let in. Once again, a tall man opened the door, and Frodo nearly stumbled inside but was caught by strong hands.
This man was somewhat shorter than the ranger but bulkier, and his harshness seemed to Frodo less dignified. He pushed the hobbit back out toward the street. "Closed," was all he said.
"Whatever can you mean?" Frodo asked, exasperated. "I saw you attend to a line of hobbits not half an hour ago."
"No admittance after eight o'clock." The man attempted to shut the door, but Frodo pushed halfway inside and stubbornly held it open.
"This is absurd," said Frodo. "My companion has already gone inside, and surely he must have told you I would be joining him."
"No admittance after eight o'clock."
"Where am I meant to go," Frodo insisted, his voice rising in anger, "if the curfew forbids me to be on the streets at night, the men's inns turn away all hobbits at the door, and you follow a strict schedule of which I was not informed?"
The man grinned. "Ah, little master, that's not my problem, is it? Perhaps you and your companion will think better next time before leaving the Shire and venturing places you're not wanted. Bree-folk would be better off without your lot corrupting them."
"Ah, but then where would you and I be, Gormen?" A woman appeared at his side, tall and slender and with a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes. She looked down at Frodo with a cold smile and spoke in a smooth voice. "Caught outside after curfew, were you, sir?" There was no respect in the title the way she spoke it. "Through no fault of your own? Step inside and let's get this door closed, not have our whispers carrying through the night, and we'll see what kind of solution we can come up with."
Frodo took a few steps forward and heard the door close behind him, not at all certain that his situation had improved. He now stood in a small entryway and the door to the main part of the hostel, where he supposed Merry was locked inside and waiting for him, was still closed. The two big people towered above him and the man, Gormen, so fierce a few moments ago, now looked somewhat nervous and hesitant in the presence of the lady. "There's rangers about, Ilga, and rules to be followed. It's not all up to us what we…" She silenced him with a look.
Frodo, not wishing to remain passive in this situation, took up the woman's first question. "She's right, you know," he said to Gormen. "If we Shire-folk kept within our borders, or if all hobbits kept to themselves, you'd not be able to make the outrageous profit I imagine you do on us. What was it? Twenty coins for nothing more than a bed in a barracks for the night?"
"Don't be so harsh then, Mr.…"
"Baggins," Frodo filled in, not softening his voice.
"Mr. Baggins," she repeated. There was a slight pause, and Frodo wondered how well his name -- Bilbo's, that is -- might be known to the folk of Bree, and how much it was connected to stories of wealth and treasure. But the woman continued seriously, "My husband and I provide a needed service at a price that the market seems to support, seeing as we're nearly full every night. Now, I can't say I myself agree with all the new regulations that the mayor's instituted over the past few months. It's true it's helped our business that the inns in the center are now for Big Folk only, but who is really helped by our closing our doors to new arrivals so early in the evening?"
There was a conspiratorial tone to the woman's speech that Frodo did not trust in the least. He gazed at her warily and said nothing.
"No one at all," she answered herself, smiling again. "An absurd little rule, as you put it, and that's why we're willing to negotiate with you as far as looking past that. Do you take my meaning, Mr. Baggins?"
"Of course," said Frodo levelly, "you're asking me for a bribe."
"She certainly is not," huffed the man, "and don't you go accusing my wife of such a thing, you little--"
"Oh really, dear," Ilga cut in, "no need to fly off the handle." She smiled at Frodo and shook her head, as if to apologize for her husband's short temper. "I'm sure Mr. Baggins just misunderstood. 'Bribe' is an ugly word, sir, but you must understand that by bending the rules with you hobbits we are taking on a risk. The Bree lawmen come around to inspect us regularly, and you never know when those rangers may be lurking about. We need to protect our investments, you know."
Frodo had little hope of winning these two over with logic and reason, but he felt it was worth a try anyway. He spoke slowly and calmly: "If you feel the rule is absurd, or unjust, as I believe it to be, then you should say so, as I have done. You should say so to the lawmen and the rangers and the mayor, as I shall attempt to do tomorrow, and so should all the good men and women and hobbits of Bree." They were both smirking at him now, but Frodo continued unabashed. "Furthermore, you should be ashamed to be taking advantage of other laws which you know to be unjust, making your living by cheating honest hobbits who have no other option than to take shelter in this miserable excuse for a hostel." Frodo paused and doubt returned to him at his own words. For the truth was, he had no other option than to stay here, unfair as the prices and the demands of the attendants might be.
Gormen seemed to read his thoughts and chuckled. "You're not exactly in a position to be telling us what to do, are you, little master?" He patted Frodo's head with mock affection, and Frodo stepped away in disgust.
Ilga's smile was gone. "It'll be thirty coins for the night," she said. "Special exception."
"I want no special exceptions," said Frodo. "I want a fair price for a night's lodging."
"Can't stop talking about 'just' and 'fair', this one," Gormen laughed. "We need to do it all by the book with him. Very well, sir, and your papers, please?"
"I don't understand," said Frodo, losing confidence again.
"All travelers --men, dwarves, and hobbits-- are required to carry identification these days," Ilga informed him. "And don't go telling us you didn't know -- that's no excuse and makes no difference to the village officials when they come to inspect my books."
Frodo hesitated, but he spoke the first thought that came to him anyway. "My cousin," he said faintly, "he carried no such papers."
"Which one was that?" Ilga asked her husband.
"The other Shireling," Gormen answered, opening a large ledger book and pointing with one finger. "Meriadoc Brandybuck," he read out loud. "Don't you remember? Almost as proud as this one, but he was willing to negotiate in the end, paid us twenty-five so we'd not make a fuss about the papers."
Strider had said that Shire hobbits were too proud for their own good, but Frodo now felt that Merry had not been proud enough. By paying the bribe, he had tacitly accepted the idea that he had broken a rule, done something wrong. Frodo would not stand for this. "I will pay twenty coins," he said steadily.
"You'll pay thirty," Ilga contradicted, "as I told you before."
"I will not," said Frodo.
"What do you mean to do?" asked Gormen, "sleep on the streets? Tonight's weather is not the best for it, and anyway I doubt you'd avoid the lawmen till morning."
"Allow me to speak to my cousin," said Frodo. It was true he didn't know what he would do. Merry already had his night's lodging, as uncomfortable as it looked to be, and was unlikely to support any plan Frodo brought him of venturing back outside. And anyway, Frodo had no real plan. Strider had specifically told him not to return to Shem's place, and no else in the village had even been civil to them. Somehow though, Frodo knew his next step must be to let Merry know what was going on.
"You'll speak to him once you quit arguing and pay the thirty coins," Ilga said with impatience.
"What can your purpose possibly be in not allowing me to speak with one of your guests?" Frodo demanded, genuinely confounded. "Or perhaps I should say one of your inmates," he added.
"The lady's just trying to make clear to you, since your little hobbit brain can't seem to understand, that you'll be paying the thirty, one way or another." Both Gormen and his wife seemed completely secure in this statement.
"This is nonsense," said Frodo, turning back toward the outer door. "I'll find my cousin in the morning, when you release him."
"Think we'll be releasing you so soon, then?" said Gormen, laying a heavy hand on Frodo's shoulder. Frodo stilled.
"Do you mean to hold me prisoner in the entryway of your hostel?" Frodo asked, not turning to face them.
"Hold you in custody till the lawmen arrive," said the man, tightening his grip and holding Frodo in place. Frodo thought he might be able to squirm away, but he also knew the door was locked, and these two would catch hold of him again before he made it outside. Wishing to avoid violence, he kept still. Gormen removed the pack from his shoulders and tossed it to the side.
Ilga opened the inner door and Frodo made to shout for Merry, but he found that Gormen had already moved closer, wrapping one strong arm around the hobbit's torso and both arms, using the other to cover his mouth. Frodo did squirm and fight then, but he was unable to break free from the man's grasp. He heard Ilga call inside, "Bornen, come here, I need you to run an errand for me."
Frodo, facing the outer door, was unable to see, but he heard steps approaching and then the inner door closed again. "Must I go outside, Mum?" a young voice asked. "It's raining now."
"Well, that's up to Mr. Baggins here," said Gormen. Carefully, without releasing his grip on Frodo, who was still struggling in his arms, he shifted the two of them around to face what Frodo now saw was a human boy. He was no taller than a hobbit, but he had a more sinewy build to his body and a sullen look to his face. The boy also had his father's sneer. "Mr. Baggins doesn't like our policies or our prices here at the hostel," Gormen continued, "so he's trying to decide if he'd rather spend the night here or in jail. If he chooses jail, we'll need you to run down to the guard station. What say you, master hobbit? But don't be trying to shout again, we're civilized types here."
Frodo had stilled again, conserving his energy once he realized how useless the fight was. The man slowly moved the hand away from his mouth and up into his damp hair. A slight tug served as a warning that Frodo not try to move again. "I have committed no crime," Frodo whispered.
"All travelers," Ilga stated, "are required to carry identification papers. It seems you have none. Besides that, you showed up at our doors after curfew. Couldn't have been up to no good, out on the village streets at night. The authorities like to be kept informed of hobbit vagrancy, you know."
"Let me go," said Frodo.
"Thirty coins," she answered.
Bornen's eyes flashed back and forth between the speakers with fascination. Frodo would not submit to this coercion in his presence. "No," Frodo said clearly.
Ilga only nodded to her son, and he grinned and dashed to the door. Frodo heard him undo the locks and slip outside. Ilga locked the door again behind him.
Frodo thought to stave off approaching panic by continuing his conversation with the two big people, as if he were not quite helpless in the man's grasp. "When they come," he said quietly, "I will inform them that you offered to let me stay without the papers in exchange for a bribe."
"And who do you expect they'll believe?" Ilga said behind his back. "A halfling vagrant, or an upstanding businesswoman like myself?"
"But you do it all the time," Frodo countered. "There must be dozens of hobbits that would testify to how you 'bend the rules.' Besides that, there's proof, you can't possibly produce the identification papers for all the hobbits you have staying here."
"Are you meaning to get your Brandybuck relation hauled off to jail as well?" said Gormen, sounding amused. "Some friend you are to him."
"Any halfling we bent the rules for was already breaking the rules himself," said Ilga, walking back towards the inner door. She paused and turned back to Frodo with a hand on the door handle. "It's time I make sure they're all settled in inside, before I put out the lamps," she said. "But should I tell Mr. Brandybuck to pack up his things and come join you on your way?"
Frodo shook his head in frustration. "Tell him…" he began, but Gormen clamped the hand over his mouth again. Frodo found it difficult to breathe and concentrated on keeping his breath steady. Ilga stepped inside and out of sight.
"Just don't want you disturbing the other halflings," Gormen explained cheerfully. "Like the mistress said, they'll be settling in for the night, don't need to be bothered by your ravings."
Frodo still wasn't sure whether to believe that he would be carried off by the law for nothing more than arriving at a hostel at night, but he couldn’t imagine where else the boy would have gone to. Surely Frodo wouldn't be kept more than a night, he reasoned. And surely someone would inform Merry as to what had happened. Nevertheless, when the door to the inside opened again, Frodo tried his hardest to shout through the man's hand and managed an indistinct noise. In response, Gormen tightened his hold on Frodo's chest, further impeding his breathing. Without hesitating, Ilga walked up to them and slapped Frodo across the face.
The shock of it hurt him more than the actual pain. He hadn't been intentionally struck since he was a child, and then only on a few occasions that stuck out in his memory, usually in confrontations with other lads. And he had done nothing to harm these two. He was suddenly eager for the lawmen to arrive, so that he might report the behavior of this couple and feel safer in the custody of the law.
"You're thinking," said Ilga, "that Gormen and I are the rule-breakers, but it's only you, Mr. Baggins. If we wanted to…"
"Could you hurry up, Ilga?" said the man. "My arms are getting tired."
To Frodo's surprise, the woman knelt down in front of him then. "Don't interrupt, dear," she ordered her husband, "I was getting to that." She pulled Frodo's hands together and, although Gormen's hand on his face kept him from looking down, Frodo could feel her binding his wrists together with a thin rope. "If we wanted to," she continued, "we could go through your things now and take what we wanted." She spoke softly and close to his ear, "I know your name, sir. I know of another halfling by that name who passed through these parts carrying loads of treasure. I suspect you carry more than thirty coins, but I'll tell you what matters more to me." She drew away again and pulled at the bonds to check their tightness before standing up and speaking in her normal voice. "It matters that you understand your place."
Frodo tried pulling his hands apart, but the rope only bit into his skin. Ilga smiled. "All right," she said, "you've tested it now, you see that my knots don't give. Now, I can hit much harder than I did, and Gormen here can hit harder than I can. I don't think any of us wants that. Can we trust you to keep still and quiet until the lawmen arrive? Can my husband rest his arms a bit now?"
Gormen loosened his hand enough that Frodo was able to nod his head in agreement. The pressure of arms around him gradually eased and Frodo took several deep breaths. Gormen kept a strong hand on Frodo's upper arm. He and Ilga stood close and watched him, and Frodo kept his eyes on the ground. "They'll be able to tell if you've beaten me," he said quietly.
"They'll beat you themselves if you give them too much lip," said Ilga without concern.
Frodo didn't know how much to believe from these two, but the threat seemed quite plausible. He felt the lack of food and rest, the fatigue of a long day's walk and the stress of his current predicament, all of it suddenly seeming to center in his knees. "I would like to sit down," he said.
"Hear that?" said Gormen. "He's scared enough now but he still doesn't like to ask for permission. Say it, halfling: 'May I sit down.'"
"May I sit down, please," Frodo repeated dully, still looking at the ground. Gormen moved his hand to Frodo's shoulder and shoved him down with a jerk. Rather than resist him, Frodo fell to his knees and then crossed his legs and did his best to relax.
"That's what I like to see," said Ilga. "Calm, polite, low to the ground." Frodo's face burned, but he said nothing. There was a pause before the woman spoke again. "Now, we could still tell them it was a false alarm, if you're willing to pay for that." Frodo shook his head. "I didn't think so," she remarked. "Gormen, you can handle this by yourself, I believe. Mr. Baggins, I need to step inside again. We don't need to put anything in your mouth, do we? You can hold your tongue a little while longer?" Frodo felt humiliated but powerless. He nodded silently.
Once Ilga had gone in, Gormen pulled a chair closer so he could sit facing Frodo and keep a hand on his shoulder more comfortably. "Shouldn't take much longer for them to arrive," he said conversationally. "The station's a few blocks away, but my boy's pretty quick, and I think he's eager to see this. Not many of the hobbits stand up to us like this, so he doesn't get such a show very often."
"Please," said Frodo cautiously, "I'm very hungry and I have some food in my pack. Would you untie my hands and allow me…"
"I don't think so, little master."
"Would you please give my things to my cousin then? And tell him where to seek me in the morning?"
"I told you, Mr. Baggins, we've sent the guests to sleep and put out the lights. No good disturbing them at this hour."
He stopped speaking and Frodo heard noises from outside. A firm hand knocked at the door and Gormen tugged at Frodo's shoulder. "Get up, halfling," he said. Frodo walked with him to the door.
The two men who tramped inside with Bornen did not look pleased. "Drag us outside in this weather for the sake of some wandering halfling, Gormen?" said the first one to enter, shaking water out of his hair and stamping mud on the floor. "You couldn't make other arrangements, as usual?"
Ilga had been right. It would do no good to report the hostellers' infractions to these men.
"What can I tell you, Bert, this one's special," Gormen said apologetically. "Or he thinks so, anyway. No arrangements for him, he says it ain't fair to make him pay extra." All the men grinned, as did the young boy. Frodo shuddered.
The man who had spoken before tested the rope around Frodo's wrists. "Thanks for getting this started for us, anyway," he said. "Ben, see about his feet, would you?" A younger and slightly larger man stepped forward, pulled out another short length of rope from his belt, and knelt down to set about binding Frodo's ankles together.
"There's no need for this," Frodo said in alarm, wincing as the man pulled the cord tighter. "I'll go with you peacefully… I've done nothing wrong," he added, knowing this last statement would make no difference to them.
"I've no doubt you'll go peacefully," said the older man, "but we'll go faster with Ben here carrying you than you will on your little hobbit legs, and I don't mean to be outside any longer than necessary tonight." He lowered his voice. "Can't have you kicking him, can we?" He nodded to the other, and before Frodo knew what was happening the big man punched him hard in the stomach, knocking the breath out of Frodo and making him double over in pain. Frodo was unable to cry out or control his movements at all, and was only half aware of being picked up off the ground and slung back over Ben's shoulder.
"Thanks for nothing, Gormen," Bert called as he opened the door again.
"Only did it out of respect for the law," the hosteller answered back, and Frodo heard the two of them laugh as if from a great distance, heard the roar of wind and rain much closer, and felt himself begin to drown.
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How did this get started? And where are the Rangers?!?
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Now he's in the soup! Can't wait to see what's next (now that he's managed to alienate Strider, I don't know that he can count on him for a while!).
Good stuff...
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Thank you for reading and commenting, Aprilkat, it means a lot.
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But wow. I just love this AU Bree you've developed here. Fantastically dark. And not SO far from canon when you think about the ruffians in the Scouring of the Shire...:-)
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This Bree is probably inspired more by the movies, your own stories, and a certain class I took last semester than by anything in Tolkien. But hey, it's a fun place to play in, no?
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And your evil characters are so . . . evil, as I remarked earlier. But the good thing about them is that they aren't one-dimensional evil, or even really evil in action... it's that they're so narrow-minded and so "by the book" and uncaring---so bureaucratic and into taking advantage of Frodo---that they give me chills.
Yes, it's good to put Frodo through the wringer---it shows how much we really do love him. :)
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I'm so glad you like these characters. I don't demand a lot of realism from my fanfic but I do think that's how real evil tends to be: people doing their jobs, looking out for themselves, not questioning things too much.
Thanks for all your help with this, Lily!
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You will post this entire adventure before you go, yes? *hopes* Have a great trip-- and report!
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hopefulteasing. I will certainly be following along with this one. Have a lovely trip, and don't worry about us until you get back!no subject
Hee, yes I love that icon too. I'm always in hunt for more. I particular love this one. It fits so well to so many of the fics I read. ;)
I took a quick look on the icons I have saved on my computer and well, let's say it's all angsty and hurting Frodo. I need to find more HAPPY, smiling Frodo. I do love his smile. *sigh*
Wish I could do icons myself.
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