Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2005-08-31 02:05 pm
sophinisba) wrote2005-08-31 02:05 pm
Entry tags:
A Brief Adventure, chapter 4
Want to hear more about Frodo in jail? Here it is, folks:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Title: A Brief Adventure, chapter 4/?
Author: Sophinisba Solis
Rating: PG
Summary: Gen. 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.
A/N: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilybaggins for the beta! Remaining errors and flaws are my own damn fault, so if you notice any please let me know.
Warnings: AU and fairly silly. Some violence.
Frodo didn't hear any clear words until they were stopped outside one of the cells and the jailer was fumbling with his keys. "Not bringing us another prisoner, are you? Can't you see we've got no more room in here?" The voice from inside the cell sounded displeased, but Frodo realized that at least it belonged to a hobbit, and all he could feel for the moment was relief.
The jailer did not seem upset. He found the right key and got the door open, and nodded to Frodo to go in. "No room anywhere," he said eventually, but not really as an answer to the other's complaint. "Hank, you in there?"
Frodo couldn't quite make out how many other hobbits were on the inside, but he saw one of them stand up immediately. "Till you let me out, sir," the hobbit said cheerfully.
"Come over here, then, and bring the lantern. You can keep it lit for another half hour, while you get him settled."
The hobbit brought over an unlit lantern that had been sitting on the floor. As soon as he had it lit from the other flame, he held it up to Frodo's face and smiled broadly at him, but spoke to the jailer. "Aw, look at him, Mr. Wheaton, he looks a drowned rat. And shivering, too. Couldn't you bring us an extra blanket or something?"
"No extras of any kind to be had, and you should know it by now." He was already locking the door again from the outside. "I'll be calling for you to put out the light. Not too much noise, now."
"Of course not, sir," Hank said absently, guiding Frodo over to sit on a low cot by one side wall. Another hobbit was sitting there and he took hold of the lantern while Hank quickly set about undoing Ilga's knots.
"Thank you," Frodo said quietly, realizing only then that he'd not yet spoken to them. He was disconcerted not only by the extraordinary setting and situation but by the air of normalcy these other hobbits were able to maintain even here. Away from the big men, Frodo himself was no longer trying to keep up a pretense of dignity, and he shivered even more than before. As soon as he had his hands free, he was rubbing at his upper arms, trying in vain to bring some warmth back into them.
"Well, before we bother with anything else," said Hank, "you'll need to get dry. Get these things off, there's a good fellow."
Frodo hesitated. "I don't have any other clothes here," he said. "All my things are in my pack. They carried me off and I didn't have a chance…"
"Lucky for you," said Hank, "I've a few extra things myself." To Frodo's surprise and relief, he pulled a set of dry clothes out of a bag lying on the floor.
Frodo started to undoing the buttons of his wet shirt, and Hank held out his own dry one. But the third hobbit shot him a look, and Hank immediately dropped the shirt in his hand and began taking off the one he was wearing. "Forgive me, you won't want that old thing," he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. He got his shirt off and gave it to Frodo, who had taken off his own and was drying himself with a rough wool blanket Hank's friend had brought him.
"Quality cloth for a hobbit of quality," said the other hobbit. "Best quality the likes of us can come up with leastways."
So Hank changed into his rattier things and Frodo changed into his finer ones, thanking Hank profusely. He felt somewhat self-conscious at being even partially naked before these strangers, and he moved the blanket strategically as he worked. Frodo averted his eyes but could see that Hank had no such qualms about stripping before the other hobbits, and Frodo thought that living in such close quarters must take its toll on the prisoners' modesty.
The weave was coarser than what he was used to, and there was an old food stain on the shirt. The clothes were also too big for Frodo, but they were clean and decent and dry. Once Frodo had finished dressing, he wrapped the blanket around himself and was finally able to stop shaking.
"Now that's done," said Hank, "we can see about introductions. My name's Hank, as you heard. And this," he indicated the other hobbit who'd helped Frodo, "is my dear and foolish childhood friend Nob."
"At your service and your family's," said the foolish friend as he shook Frodo's hand. "Hank likes to think it's my foolishness as landed us in here," he explained good-naturedly, "but it's really all his doing. That there's Ted, and his brother Ed." Frodo had barely even noticed the presence of these other two, sitting silently on the other cot against the opposite wall. Looking at them now, Frodo could see now that they must be twins. One of them nodded as Nob pointed at them, the other did not, and Frodo wasn't sure which name went with which hobbit.
Taking in the whole of the small cell for the first time, Frodo saw that there were only these two cots, each low and narrow and clearly made to fit only one hobbit There was a also a straw pallet a few inches thick on the floor along the back wall. Nob had had his things there but brought them over to the cot where they were sitting now. The cell was only meant to hold two prisoners; no wonder someone (Ted? Ed?) had complained when Frodo was thrown in with them. He supposed that overcrowding and fear brought friends and relations closer, so Ted and Ed shared a cot, and tonight Nob and Hank shared another. Frodo, the odd hobbit out since his separation from Merry, would sleep alone on the mat, if he managed to sleep at all.
He realized then that the other four hobbits were staring at him expectantly. He thought for a moment, then murmured "Frodo Baggins," too flustered to add any further pleasantries.
"You from the Shire?" One of the twins asked.
"Yes," said Frodo. "I live in Hobbiton, and I traveled from Buckland today with my cousin."
"Not many visitors from those parts in Bree anymore," said Nob.
"I should say not, or we'd have had news and known to stay away," said Frodo without thinking. He flushed then, wondering if he had offended the Bree-hobbits, but there was only a bit of chuckling.
"It's all right," said Nob, "we all know Bree's become a place for hobbits to avoid."
"I didn't know what to expect here," Frodo continued, feeling relieved. "In the jail, I mean. I don't know that I've ever been more terrified than just now when I walked past the big men's cells. I can't think how wretched I should be if I'd been put inside with them."
One of the twins laughed. "And you're lucky they brought you in on Wheaton's shift," he said. "Now Oaks, he's here in the mornings, he likes to tell the new hobbits they have to share a cell with the men. Scared Ed here half to death." So it was Ted speaking. His brother scowled. "And if he thinks you're not taking the threats seriously enough," Ted added, "he'll find other ways to scare you. Gave me this, see?"
The dim light barely reached the far side of the cell where the brothers were sitting, but now that Frodo looked he could see that Ted had a black eye. Looking around, Frodo now noticed a bruise on Nob's face as well. "What did you do?" Frodo asked in astonishment.
"Didn't do nothing," Ted exclaimed. "Just said that truth, that if they didn't want Big and Little Folk consorting on the outside, it made no sense to have them mixing in a jail cell. And I told him anyway my friend Tony was here last month and he said it wasn't that bad."
"Not that bad?!" Frodo couldn't believe this coming from a hobbit who'd been beaten for something so trivial.
"It really isn't, Frodo," Nob answered for him. "You just need to learn how to handle the guards. Wheaton, the one who brought you in, he's too old and tired to even take an interest in hurting anyone. Oaks has got a little more of a temper that you have to watch out for. And he won't stand for 'sass,' as he calls it."
"But call him 'sir' and act low and meek and stupid enough," said Hank, "and he'll just pat you on the head like the little lad he thinks you are."
The others laughed at this, except for Ed, who spoke now for the first time. "Probably harder for gentlehobbit to act that way than for the likes of us. Mr. Baggins don't bow to nobody, does he?"
Frodo was taken aback. Had he acted conceited, given himself airs? Or were his name and his clothes (now hanging on the bars of the cell to dry) enough to make Ed this hostile?
Before Frodo could think of anything to say to this, Hank had taken over the conversation and Ed slumped against the wall, sulking silently again. "Now, now," said Hank, "no call to be stirring things up, Ed; this cell's far too small for that. Shire-folk or Bree-folk, gentlehobbits or common folk, we're all hobbits here in the same bad place, and we'd do best to stick together. Anyway," he addressed Frodo now, "Nob and Ted are right, it's not such a bad place, especially if you stay out of the way of the guards." He smiled at Nob, who grinned back. "Really, if you think about it, we're five hobbits in a hole in the ground, better off than most of the Little Folk in these parts."
Nob, still smiling, shook his head. "I'm all for cheering up Frodo here," he said, "but you're taking it a bit far, I think."
"I know you like it in Bree, Nob, but I believe you're thinking of the old days. You with your good job and visitors like Frodo staying at a fine inn like Butterbur's. But you've seen that hostel they put up for hobbits on the north side of town, haven't you?" Frodo and the others nodded. "I hear they charge twenty coins a night, and for a cot in a great shack with a leaky roof!"
"They wanted to make me pay extra," said Frodo, glad of an opportunity to tell his story, "only because I arrived just after eight, and I didn't have the right papers. And when I refused, they called the lawmen and hauled me off here, no questions asked!"
He had hoped the others would react to this story with shock and outrage, but they only nodded. Ed said, "And what, you didn't have the money?"
"Well, yes," said Frodo uncomfortably, "I did, but it's the principle of the thing."
There was a somewhat strained but brief silence, broken by Hank's "Well done. And why should any hobbit pay twenty coins or more to stay there, when they can stay in the lockholes for free? After all, pretty soon this'll be the closest thing to a hobbit hole in all the village of Bree."
Frodo was puzzled. "Aren't there quite a few of them dug into the hill?" he asked.
"There are now," said Hank. "My sweetheart and her family live in one." He blushed a little in a way that Frodo found amusing in a grown hobbit, and Nob smirked. "Daisy, she's who brings me clean clothes, and a little extra something to eat when she comes to see me..." He looked at Frodo, who must have reacted at the mention of food. "Haven't you had anything to eat then?"
"Not since luncheon," said Frodo.
Hank reached into his bag again, produced a carrot and a small seedcake, nodded at Frodo's thanks and went on talking. "A fine smial they have too, cozy as anything back home in Staddle, up here on the north side of town. They've been given notice, though, told to move out by the end of the month."
"Whatever for?" Frodo's mouth was dry with the seedcake, but to ask for water on top of everything else he'd been given would have felt greedy. He tried to speak normally. "I would have thought they'd want hobbits keeping to themselves, with their own customs and their own homes."
"Nah," said Hank, "they say it's primitive, living in holes in the ground. Call us cave-dwellers, or what have you."
"Good enough for criminals and not much else, I suppose," Ted said with a smile, but then grew more thoughtful. "You always knew some of the Big Folk were saying things like that. Not to our faces, you know, but you'd hear things when they thought you weren't listening. It's just come out in the open now."
"Most of 'em never did though." Nob sounded almost defensive. "My brother Bob and I have been living in the village for near on fifteen years, since we were restless 'tweens who couldn't stand anymore of life in a little place like Staddle. Now, I worked in Butterbur's inn, The Prancing Pony" --he looked proud and proprietary at these words-- "most of those years, had more dealings with Big Folk than Little, and I never did have any problems with 'em till just these last few months. Bree was always the one place where everybody could mix, and talk, and get along. That's why I always loved coming here as a lad, and that's why I moved here as soon as I was old enough. The excitement of it, you know." He peered at Frodo. "And I think you do understand, don't you, Frodo?"
Frodo nodded, chewing on his carrot. It was unusual for Shire-hobbits to travel outside of their own borders, but Frodo had long been captivated by tales of elves and men and dwarves. It had been distressing right from their arrival in Bree to witness all the hostility between the races, nothing like the village Bilbo had told him about. It was good to know that the friendly village and the excellent inn of Bilbo's tales had at least existed in the past, even if it was gone now.
But Hank was shaking his head. "If they treated you friendly before, Nob, it was nothing but an act. I always said there was no reason for good hobbits to mix with the likes of them. You'd have been better off staying with your family in Staddle. And if it weren't that I care for Daisy so, I'd say I'd have been better off if I hadn't come to stay with you last year." Nob shrugged, and Hank ignored him. "Or maybe we'd all be better off in the Shire, with Frodo and his folk," he proposed, "hobbits living in peace with other hobbits, and no one telling 'em where or how to live, or shoving 'em in the lockholes if they dare to disagree."
Ted nodded in something like agreement but Nob sounded hurt when he spoke. "You're wrong, Hank," he said seriously. "I've had a happy life here in Bree all these years, and Butterbur was happy to have me and Bob working for him, and happy to have halflings and dwarves stay at the inn as well. What's happened didn't need to happen."
"Meaning what?" Hank demanded. "Meaning if I hadn't come and stayed with you? Meaning if you hadn't started doing me favors last month you'd still have your job working as the Big Folks' servant, and everything would be fine then?" For the first time the good humor was missing from Hank's voice, and Frodo, who had somehow begun to relax in these hobbits' company, once again grew tense, and also confused.
"Oh, don't be so difficult," said Nob. "You know that isn't what I meant."
"But you wish you hadn't done it."
"Of course I wish that. You expect me to say I'm glad we're in jail?"
"Don't get upset, Hank," Ted intervened. "We all wish things were different. That doesn't mean he blames you or he thinks what you did was wrong. Anyways," he sighed, "we all know it isn't about the pipe-weed."
Frodo, for his part, had never suspected it was about the pipe-weed, whatever "it" was. Ah, and there was a question he could ask: "Know what isn't about the pipe-weed?" His voice sounded hopelessly naïve to his own ears.
It probably sounded so to the others too, for there was a fair amount of laughing before anyone said anything, and even then they seemed to speak to each other and not to him. Well, at least his question had broken the tension in the cell.
"It wouldn't even occur to him, of course," Hank remarked.
"Just goes to show what nonsense it all is, them pretending that's what it's about," said Ted.
"Frodo can help you see it," said Nob, "coming from the outside as he does. Try to tell him the whole sad story of what's happened since Tom Briary became mayor and he won't believe it, no sir, it doesn't add up. But of the folks who've lived here through it, and heard the speeches and read the pronouncements again and again, there's some have come to believe every word of it." He sounded amazed. "Even good people I know at the inn, who used to be kind to me."
"That's right," Ted agreed, "and even plenty of hobbits who should know better go laying the blame on honest merchants such as yourself, Hank, and it ain't right. But you know Nob and Ed and me don't think that way, and Frodo wouldn't either, if he had any idea what we were talking about."
Everyone laughed again, and Frodo asked, "Would you tell me what you're talking about, please?" But before anyone could answer the old jailer called from the passageway. "That's enough, now, halflings. Put out that light."
"Right away, sir," said Hank. And more quietly, to Frodo, "Take this bed, Nob and I will share the mat."
But Frodo shook his head and stood up, then walked over to the mat himself. "I don't mind it," he lied, figuring that it was better for one hobbit to sleep on the floor than two. And anyway they'd been too generous with him already. "You don't mind if I borrow this blanket?" he asked as he lay down.
"Of course not, Frodo," said Nob, and he blew out the light.
Without it there was almost pitch black in the cell. The pallet was thin and dirty and the floor was hard. And Frodo was mostly dry by then but still cold and very confused. But the hobbits kept talking in soft voices long into the night. They answered Frodo's questions and ceased to laugh at him, and despite all his fear and discomfort Frodo felt safe with these new friends. Eventually his mind drifted away from the conversation and he wondered about Backman and Strider, than settled to thinking about Merry, hoping he was safe and warm and not worrying too much over Frodo. And after a long and terrible day and night he was finally able to sleep.
next part | series tag | fic index
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Title: A Brief Adventure, chapter 4/?
Author: Sophinisba Solis
Rating: PG
Summary: Gen. 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.
A/N: Many thanks to
lilybaggins for the beta! Remaining errors and flaws are my own damn fault, so if you notice any please let me know.Warnings: AU and fairly silly. Some violence.
Frodo didn't hear any clear words until they were stopped outside one of the cells and the jailer was fumbling with his keys. "Not bringing us another prisoner, are you? Can't you see we've got no more room in here?" The voice from inside the cell sounded displeased, but Frodo realized that at least it belonged to a hobbit, and all he could feel for the moment was relief.
The jailer did not seem upset. He found the right key and got the door open, and nodded to Frodo to go in. "No room anywhere," he said eventually, but not really as an answer to the other's complaint. "Hank, you in there?"
Frodo couldn't quite make out how many other hobbits were on the inside, but he saw one of them stand up immediately. "Till you let me out, sir," the hobbit said cheerfully.
"Come over here, then, and bring the lantern. You can keep it lit for another half hour, while you get him settled."
The hobbit brought over an unlit lantern that had been sitting on the floor. As soon as he had it lit from the other flame, he held it up to Frodo's face and smiled broadly at him, but spoke to the jailer. "Aw, look at him, Mr. Wheaton, he looks a drowned rat. And shivering, too. Couldn't you bring us an extra blanket or something?"
"No extras of any kind to be had, and you should know it by now." He was already locking the door again from the outside. "I'll be calling for you to put out the light. Not too much noise, now."
"Of course not, sir," Hank said absently, guiding Frodo over to sit on a low cot by one side wall. Another hobbit was sitting there and he took hold of the lantern while Hank quickly set about undoing Ilga's knots.
"Thank you," Frodo said quietly, realizing only then that he'd not yet spoken to them. He was disconcerted not only by the extraordinary setting and situation but by the air of normalcy these other hobbits were able to maintain even here. Away from the big men, Frodo himself was no longer trying to keep up a pretense of dignity, and he shivered even more than before. As soon as he had his hands free, he was rubbing at his upper arms, trying in vain to bring some warmth back into them.
"Well, before we bother with anything else," said Hank, "you'll need to get dry. Get these things off, there's a good fellow."
Frodo hesitated. "I don't have any other clothes here," he said. "All my things are in my pack. They carried me off and I didn't have a chance…"
"Lucky for you," said Hank, "I've a few extra things myself." To Frodo's surprise and relief, he pulled a set of dry clothes out of a bag lying on the floor.
Frodo started to undoing the buttons of his wet shirt, and Hank held out his own dry one. But the third hobbit shot him a look, and Hank immediately dropped the shirt in his hand and began taking off the one he was wearing. "Forgive me, you won't want that old thing," he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. He got his shirt off and gave it to Frodo, who had taken off his own and was drying himself with a rough wool blanket Hank's friend had brought him.
"Quality cloth for a hobbit of quality," said the other hobbit. "Best quality the likes of us can come up with leastways."
So Hank changed into his rattier things and Frodo changed into his finer ones, thanking Hank profusely. He felt somewhat self-conscious at being even partially naked before these strangers, and he moved the blanket strategically as he worked. Frodo averted his eyes but could see that Hank had no such qualms about stripping before the other hobbits, and Frodo thought that living in such close quarters must take its toll on the prisoners' modesty.
The weave was coarser than what he was used to, and there was an old food stain on the shirt. The clothes were also too big for Frodo, but they were clean and decent and dry. Once Frodo had finished dressing, he wrapped the blanket around himself and was finally able to stop shaking.
"Now that's done," said Hank, "we can see about introductions. My name's Hank, as you heard. And this," he indicated the other hobbit who'd helped Frodo, "is my dear and foolish childhood friend Nob."
"At your service and your family's," said the foolish friend as he shook Frodo's hand. "Hank likes to think it's my foolishness as landed us in here," he explained good-naturedly, "but it's really all his doing. That there's Ted, and his brother Ed." Frodo had barely even noticed the presence of these other two, sitting silently on the other cot against the opposite wall. Looking at them now, Frodo could see now that they must be twins. One of them nodded as Nob pointed at them, the other did not, and Frodo wasn't sure which name went with which hobbit.
Taking in the whole of the small cell for the first time, Frodo saw that there were only these two cots, each low and narrow and clearly made to fit only one hobbit There was a also a straw pallet a few inches thick on the floor along the back wall. Nob had had his things there but brought them over to the cot where they were sitting now. The cell was only meant to hold two prisoners; no wonder someone (Ted? Ed?) had complained when Frodo was thrown in with them. He supposed that overcrowding and fear brought friends and relations closer, so Ted and Ed shared a cot, and tonight Nob and Hank shared another. Frodo, the odd hobbit out since his separation from Merry, would sleep alone on the mat, if he managed to sleep at all.
He realized then that the other four hobbits were staring at him expectantly. He thought for a moment, then murmured "Frodo Baggins," too flustered to add any further pleasantries.
"You from the Shire?" One of the twins asked.
"Yes," said Frodo. "I live in Hobbiton, and I traveled from Buckland today with my cousin."
"Not many visitors from those parts in Bree anymore," said Nob.
"I should say not, or we'd have had news and known to stay away," said Frodo without thinking. He flushed then, wondering if he had offended the Bree-hobbits, but there was only a bit of chuckling.
"It's all right," said Nob, "we all know Bree's become a place for hobbits to avoid."
"I didn't know what to expect here," Frodo continued, feeling relieved. "In the jail, I mean. I don't know that I've ever been more terrified than just now when I walked past the big men's cells. I can't think how wretched I should be if I'd been put inside with them."
One of the twins laughed. "And you're lucky they brought you in on Wheaton's shift," he said. "Now Oaks, he's here in the mornings, he likes to tell the new hobbits they have to share a cell with the men. Scared Ed here half to death." So it was Ted speaking. His brother scowled. "And if he thinks you're not taking the threats seriously enough," Ted added, "he'll find other ways to scare you. Gave me this, see?"
The dim light barely reached the far side of the cell where the brothers were sitting, but now that Frodo looked he could see that Ted had a black eye. Looking around, Frodo now noticed a bruise on Nob's face as well. "What did you do?" Frodo asked in astonishment.
"Didn't do nothing," Ted exclaimed. "Just said that truth, that if they didn't want Big and Little Folk consorting on the outside, it made no sense to have them mixing in a jail cell. And I told him anyway my friend Tony was here last month and he said it wasn't that bad."
"Not that bad?!" Frodo couldn't believe this coming from a hobbit who'd been beaten for something so trivial.
"It really isn't, Frodo," Nob answered for him. "You just need to learn how to handle the guards. Wheaton, the one who brought you in, he's too old and tired to even take an interest in hurting anyone. Oaks has got a little more of a temper that you have to watch out for. And he won't stand for 'sass,' as he calls it."
"But call him 'sir' and act low and meek and stupid enough," said Hank, "and he'll just pat you on the head like the little lad he thinks you are."
The others laughed at this, except for Ed, who spoke now for the first time. "Probably harder for gentlehobbit to act that way than for the likes of us. Mr. Baggins don't bow to nobody, does he?"
Frodo was taken aback. Had he acted conceited, given himself airs? Or were his name and his clothes (now hanging on the bars of the cell to dry) enough to make Ed this hostile?
Before Frodo could think of anything to say to this, Hank had taken over the conversation and Ed slumped against the wall, sulking silently again. "Now, now," said Hank, "no call to be stirring things up, Ed; this cell's far too small for that. Shire-folk or Bree-folk, gentlehobbits or common folk, we're all hobbits here in the same bad place, and we'd do best to stick together. Anyway," he addressed Frodo now, "Nob and Ted are right, it's not such a bad place, especially if you stay out of the way of the guards." He smiled at Nob, who grinned back. "Really, if you think about it, we're five hobbits in a hole in the ground, better off than most of the Little Folk in these parts."
Nob, still smiling, shook his head. "I'm all for cheering up Frodo here," he said, "but you're taking it a bit far, I think."
"I know you like it in Bree, Nob, but I believe you're thinking of the old days. You with your good job and visitors like Frodo staying at a fine inn like Butterbur's. But you've seen that hostel they put up for hobbits on the north side of town, haven't you?" Frodo and the others nodded. "I hear they charge twenty coins a night, and for a cot in a great shack with a leaky roof!"
"They wanted to make me pay extra," said Frodo, glad of an opportunity to tell his story, "only because I arrived just after eight, and I didn't have the right papers. And when I refused, they called the lawmen and hauled me off here, no questions asked!"
He had hoped the others would react to this story with shock and outrage, but they only nodded. Ed said, "And what, you didn't have the money?"
"Well, yes," said Frodo uncomfortably, "I did, but it's the principle of the thing."
There was a somewhat strained but brief silence, broken by Hank's "Well done. And why should any hobbit pay twenty coins or more to stay there, when they can stay in the lockholes for free? After all, pretty soon this'll be the closest thing to a hobbit hole in all the village of Bree."
Frodo was puzzled. "Aren't there quite a few of them dug into the hill?" he asked.
"There are now," said Hank. "My sweetheart and her family live in one." He blushed a little in a way that Frodo found amusing in a grown hobbit, and Nob smirked. "Daisy, she's who brings me clean clothes, and a little extra something to eat when she comes to see me..." He looked at Frodo, who must have reacted at the mention of food. "Haven't you had anything to eat then?"
"Not since luncheon," said Frodo.
Hank reached into his bag again, produced a carrot and a small seedcake, nodded at Frodo's thanks and went on talking. "A fine smial they have too, cozy as anything back home in Staddle, up here on the north side of town. They've been given notice, though, told to move out by the end of the month."
"Whatever for?" Frodo's mouth was dry with the seedcake, but to ask for water on top of everything else he'd been given would have felt greedy. He tried to speak normally. "I would have thought they'd want hobbits keeping to themselves, with their own customs and their own homes."
"Nah," said Hank, "they say it's primitive, living in holes in the ground. Call us cave-dwellers, or what have you."
"Good enough for criminals and not much else, I suppose," Ted said with a smile, but then grew more thoughtful. "You always knew some of the Big Folk were saying things like that. Not to our faces, you know, but you'd hear things when they thought you weren't listening. It's just come out in the open now."
"Most of 'em never did though." Nob sounded almost defensive. "My brother Bob and I have been living in the village for near on fifteen years, since we were restless 'tweens who couldn't stand anymore of life in a little place like Staddle. Now, I worked in Butterbur's inn, The Prancing Pony" --he looked proud and proprietary at these words-- "most of those years, had more dealings with Big Folk than Little, and I never did have any problems with 'em till just these last few months. Bree was always the one place where everybody could mix, and talk, and get along. That's why I always loved coming here as a lad, and that's why I moved here as soon as I was old enough. The excitement of it, you know." He peered at Frodo. "And I think you do understand, don't you, Frodo?"
Frodo nodded, chewing on his carrot. It was unusual for Shire-hobbits to travel outside of their own borders, but Frodo had long been captivated by tales of elves and men and dwarves. It had been distressing right from their arrival in Bree to witness all the hostility between the races, nothing like the village Bilbo had told him about. It was good to know that the friendly village and the excellent inn of Bilbo's tales had at least existed in the past, even if it was gone now.
But Hank was shaking his head. "If they treated you friendly before, Nob, it was nothing but an act. I always said there was no reason for good hobbits to mix with the likes of them. You'd have been better off staying with your family in Staddle. And if it weren't that I care for Daisy so, I'd say I'd have been better off if I hadn't come to stay with you last year." Nob shrugged, and Hank ignored him. "Or maybe we'd all be better off in the Shire, with Frodo and his folk," he proposed, "hobbits living in peace with other hobbits, and no one telling 'em where or how to live, or shoving 'em in the lockholes if they dare to disagree."
Ted nodded in something like agreement but Nob sounded hurt when he spoke. "You're wrong, Hank," he said seriously. "I've had a happy life here in Bree all these years, and Butterbur was happy to have me and Bob working for him, and happy to have halflings and dwarves stay at the inn as well. What's happened didn't need to happen."
"Meaning what?" Hank demanded. "Meaning if I hadn't come and stayed with you? Meaning if you hadn't started doing me favors last month you'd still have your job working as the Big Folks' servant, and everything would be fine then?" For the first time the good humor was missing from Hank's voice, and Frodo, who had somehow begun to relax in these hobbits' company, once again grew tense, and also confused.
"Oh, don't be so difficult," said Nob. "You know that isn't what I meant."
"But you wish you hadn't done it."
"Of course I wish that. You expect me to say I'm glad we're in jail?"
"Don't get upset, Hank," Ted intervened. "We all wish things were different. That doesn't mean he blames you or he thinks what you did was wrong. Anyways," he sighed, "we all know it isn't about the pipe-weed."
Frodo, for his part, had never suspected it was about the pipe-weed, whatever "it" was. Ah, and there was a question he could ask: "Know what isn't about the pipe-weed?" His voice sounded hopelessly naïve to his own ears.
It probably sounded so to the others too, for there was a fair amount of laughing before anyone said anything, and even then they seemed to speak to each other and not to him. Well, at least his question had broken the tension in the cell.
"It wouldn't even occur to him, of course," Hank remarked.
"Just goes to show what nonsense it all is, them pretending that's what it's about," said Ted.
"Frodo can help you see it," said Nob, "coming from the outside as he does. Try to tell him the whole sad story of what's happened since Tom Briary became mayor and he won't believe it, no sir, it doesn't add up. But of the folks who've lived here through it, and heard the speeches and read the pronouncements again and again, there's some have come to believe every word of it." He sounded amazed. "Even good people I know at the inn, who used to be kind to me."
"That's right," Ted agreed, "and even plenty of hobbits who should know better go laying the blame on honest merchants such as yourself, Hank, and it ain't right. But you know Nob and Ed and me don't think that way, and Frodo wouldn't either, if he had any idea what we were talking about."
Everyone laughed again, and Frodo asked, "Would you tell me what you're talking about, please?" But before anyone could answer the old jailer called from the passageway. "That's enough, now, halflings. Put out that light."
"Right away, sir," said Hank. And more quietly, to Frodo, "Take this bed, Nob and I will share the mat."
But Frodo shook his head and stood up, then walked over to the mat himself. "I don't mind it," he lied, figuring that it was better for one hobbit to sleep on the floor than two. And anyway they'd been too generous with him already. "You don't mind if I borrow this blanket?" he asked as he lay down.
"Of course not, Frodo," said Nob, and he blew out the light.
Without it there was almost pitch black in the cell. The pallet was thin and dirty and the floor was hard. And Frodo was mostly dry by then but still cold and very confused. But the hobbits kept talking in soft voices long into the night. They answered Frodo's questions and ceased to laugh at him, and despite all his fear and discomfort Frodo felt safe with these new friends. Eventually his mind drifted away from the conversation and he wondered about Backman and Strider, than settled to thinking about Merry, hoping he was safe and warm and not worrying too much over Frodo. And after a long and terrible day and night he was finally able to sleep.
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What is all this about pipeweed? I love the atmosphere, the complicated setting, the intrigue. It's all delightful. More, more!
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