Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2005-10-15 05:10 pm
sophinisba) wrote2005-10-15 05:10 pm
Entry tags:
A Brief Adventure, chapter 5
Oh, and Frodo? Still in jail. Yes, he will get out eventually, but I'm slow.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Title: A Brief Adventure, chapter 5/?
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: 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; if you happen to notice any please drop me a line and let me know.
Warnings: AU and fairly silly. Some violence.
Frodo didn't feel rested when he awoke. Someone was shouting, but Frodo decided the shouting could not be directed at him. It was still dark and Frodo was sore from sleeping on the floor, but sleeping was preferable to taking his surroundings into full account. So Frodo kept his eyes closed and managed to ignore the noise until he also felt a hand on his shoulder and heard another voice, close by. "It's you they're calling for, Frodo," someone said. "But don't worry, it's nothing they want. It seems someone's come to see you."
Frodo had nothing to do before going out to see his visitor -- no other clothes to change into, no water with which to wash, no hairbrush or looking glass to make himself presentable. And it was just as well, because the guard standing menacingly outside the hobbits' cell seemed in no mood to wait for him. Besides that, Frodo wanted to waste no time in getting to the next step, whatever that was, toward getting out of here for good. He thanked Hank for waking him and stood up as quickly as he could, leaning briefly against the wall as he waited for the slight dizziness to pass, then walked the short distance across to the door of the cell.
"Don't need to do up your hands again, do we?" said the man. "Not gonna try anything you shouldn't?"
"No, sir," Frodo said quietly, careful to look down. This was Oaks, the guard the others had warned him about last night.
"Good then." He unlocked the door and opened it enough for Frodo to step out. "Spent enough time waiting for you already." He pushed Frodo ahead of him, holding onto him by the shoulder. "What is it with you halflings, anyway, sleeping and eating all day? How do you expect to get anything done that way?"
Frodo thought about saying that he hadn't eaten, or that it had been difficult to fall asleep without a bed, but he thought it best to keep quiet. He wondered just how much of the day he had slept through. It was as dark in the passageway as it had been before, as he supposed it always was in the underground jail.
Oaks jerked sharply at his shoulder and Frodo, still walking, nearly stumbled. The man had stopped and now turned the hobbit around to face him. "I asked you a question, lad," he sneered. "It's impolite not to answer, don't you know?" He held the lantern closer to Frodo's face then and took a closer look. "Seems you haven't slept much though," he commented, "you look a fright. What happened, did those other halflings keep you awake with the noises they make together? And I s'pose you must have felt left out, lying on the mat all by your lonesome."
"I don't understand, sir," Frodo stammered.
Oaks smiled down at him, reminding Frodo of the men who'd grinned while tormenting him the night before. "I think you do, Mr. Baggins. But I'll say it nice and plain for you. I'm saying: you halflings, you eat too much, you sleep too much, and you can't seem to keep your hands off each other, and I wish you'd explain it all to me."
"There's nothing to explain," Frodo bristled. "Eating and sleeping are healthy, and they help a hobbit have enough energy to work when work needs to be done. I'm out of sorts now because I haven't had enough of either. As for showing affection, Ed and Ted are brothers. And Nob and Hank are only close friends. Surely you know how often Hank's Daisy comes to see him."
"Close friends what like to cuddle up in bed, sure, I know all about your kind."
"Never mind that you only provide two beds for five hobbits," Frodo could barely keep from shouting. "Two people sleeping close in a cold dark place means nothing more than that, trying to give each other a little warmth and a little comfort…" his words trailed off as he heard the connotations the big man would probably give them. At the same time, a glint in the jailer's eyes reminded him who he was talking to, and where he was, and he dropped his gaze, finishing his speech with a quiet "sir."
"Forgot yourself for a moment, there, did you, halfling?" Oaks sneered. "Seems to me like you're awful sensitive about who's cuddling with who. Your friend's waiting for you in the front room, but I bet you wish he could stay and keep you company, give you some warmth and comfort tonight, eh? Something you'd like us to arrange?"
Before Frodo could react to this insinuation, or even to the welcome knowledge that it was Merry who was waiting to see him, he heard loud snicker from inside the cell to his right. Suddenly Frodo realized that this whole exchange was probably being put on for the entertainment of those prisoners, that a whole group of them were staring and had been holding in their laughter until now. Frodo's incensed face was even being lit up for them by the lantern.
"We don't mind keeping him company in here, sir," one of the men called out. "If he's cold, you know, we'd be happy to help out."
There were more shouts of laughter and agreement from the big men, and Frodo, no longer thinking clearly, found himself twisting away, trying to escape from Oaks' hard grip and the glaring light of the spectacle. He was free for half a second before the blow landed, square on his nose, and all Frodo's vision went white, despite the constant darkness. When he came back to himself Frodo found he was seated, with pain in his bottom where he had fallen and hit the ground, and on his back from hitting the wall of the passageway; but the pain was most intense on his face. He had a hand to his nose and could feel the blood dripping out and through his fingers.
The other men had gone silent and the jailer's voice was menacingly quiet and close. "You forget yourself, halfling." Frodo tried shaking his head and nearly cried out at the pain it brought him. "Now keep still if you know what's good for you. You told me you wouldn't try anything." Frodo breathed and tried not to move or to think, knowing it would only lead to pain and panic. "Now," Oaks continued, "if you want to go have your talk with your little friend, you'll mind your manners on my watch. Understood?"
Keeping very still, Frodo answered, "Yes, sir," and sensed that both Oaks and the other prisoners were nodding in approval. Understood, yes, Frodo understood that he had been deliberately provoked so that he would put up some little resistance and be brought down for it. And the other hobbits had even warned him that Oaks would try such a thing. Frodo felt foolish for having fallen for the trick, and humiliated for submitting now. But mostly he felt pain, and the need to get out of this close passageway and out to where Merry was waiting for him. It didn't matter what he said or did in the meantime.
"Stand up now." Oaks pulled at his shoulder and Frodo leaned against the rough wall for balance as he stood. As eager as he was to get to Merry, Frodo was nervous and his steps were small. Oaks kept a hold on him but did not rush him. When they reached the metal gate Frodo could see Merry waiting there for him, tense, angry. He wanted to warn Merry to be careful, to be humble, but he didn't dare speak up.
When the gate opened Merry immediately had his arms around Frodo, was whispering something about how he loved him and how everything would work out all right. Frodo felt Oaks' leering gaze on them and he pulled out of the embrace with a terse, "Thank you, cousin."
Merry looked startled but was not distracted from his attention to Frodo. He carefully pulled Frodo's hand away from his nose and held up a clean handkerchief, giving Frodo time to take it with his other hand. It was only then that Frodo noticed he'd been allowing the sleeve of his shirt to soak up the blood. Not his shirt, but Hank's good shirt, now stained with blood because of Frodo's own foolishness. He swore softly.
"What is it, Frodo?" Merry asked. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, it… It hurts, but it's… the shirt…" Couldn't Frodo even speak properly?
It didn't matter, as Oaks had grown bored with their conversation and wanted them out of the way. "There's some chairs in the corner there, where most of the visitors sit," he said. "Probably too big for you though, so you can sit on the floor. There's other folk waiting upstairs," he grumbled, "and I need to see about more paperwork. You two settle in there." Merry helped Frodo to walk over to the corner and sit down near the chairs, which were indeed too big for them. "That's fine," said Oaks, "and don't move from there, or you know there'll be consequences, yeah?"
"Yes, sir," said Frodo quickly, ignoring Merry's look of disgust. He squeezed his cousin's hand, and the two of them quietly waited for the man to leave.
Once they were alone in the little room, between the two locked doors, Merry very gently ran a hand through Frodo's hair and then kissed his head. "Go ahead, Frodo," he said, hushed and furious, "tell me not to curse the wide world just because that man hit you."
"You can curse as much as you want, Merry, but it won't get either of us out of here."
For a moment Merry looked devastated, and Frodo thought of apologizing. None of this was Merry's fault, after all, but Frodo was angry and hurt too, and he didn't feel like making anyone else comfortable.
"It's all horrible," said Frodo, "I don't know what chance we have. You wouldn't believe the things the other hobbits here told me last night. Apparently there's some idiotic new mayor in Bree who's going around saying all the Big Folk's problems come from their being too keen on smoking pipe-weed, and he lays all the blame for that on the hobbits who sell the stuff, so now no hobbit can do anything right, whether he has anything to do with the pipe-weed trade or not."
"I know all that already, Frodo. What, did you think I was sleeping the whole time we were apart?"
These words reminded Frodo of Oaks' words about lazy halflings and made the pain in his nose feel sharper as blood rushed to his face in shame. But what did Frodo have to be ashamed of?
Merry continued, "I had other hobbits to talk with last night too. In my own jail, you might say. Do you know there are Bree-hobbits living in that horrible barracks of a place as well? Folk who got turned out of their smials and had no other place to go. Well, and they told me all about it, this mayor Briary and his cronies. They say anytime anything goes wrong in the village, if it's a big man's house that gets robbed or one of them loses his job or a business fails, they figure out a way to blame it on hobbits." He shook his head, and added, "Ridiculous."
"Yes," said Frodo, feeling very small and young, as he was not used to feeling around Merry.
"And meanwhile, they say these men are making a scandalous profit out of it all, the property they confiscate and the fines and fees they charge."
"Two of the hobbits I met here were jailed for trying to sell pipe-weed without paying for a license first," said Frodo. "One of them does it for a living, but the other used to work in the inn, The Prancing Pony, you know, and just sold a few pounds of it. For the convenience of the guests, you know, and to help out his friend."
Merry nodded, unsurprised, and Frodo wondered if any scandal had the power to shock anymore.
"I doubt they'll be getting out anytime soon then," said Merry. "But don't despair, Frodo. I do believe there's some hope for your case, even though I'm a little fuzzy on the details. You broke the law, sure, but curfew isn't as important to them as pipe-weed, that being the central excuse for the whole exercise. Really I think your main infraction was to be so stubborn, enough to go and get yourself arrested when any sensible hobbit would have paid whatever sum was necessary in order to be with his beloved cousin."
"I couldn't believe they expected that," Frodo muttered, still repelled by the memory.
"Couldn't believe it?" Merry repeated in a tone that suggested that he, for his part, couldn't believe Frodo's gullibility.
"No," said Frodo, feeling defensive. "Why should I?"
"They're not good people, Frodo. They make their living by charging unfair rates of hobbits who have no choice but to pay. How could you expect them to be honorable?"
"Do you mean to say you knew it was coming?"
"Of course I did. I was paying attention, anyway, while you were chatting with the Sandlings -- that other hobbit family, you know -- and making big sad eyes at their little ones. There were two hobbits in line ahead of us who didn't have any papers. I saw there was a bit of discussion, and a bit of digging in their pockets, so I was prepared when it got to be my turn. I told that Gormen right away: my cousin and I were visiting here for the first time, so sorry we weren't aware of all the proper regulations and I hoped there wouldn't be any problems. And I handed him the twenty-five coins.
Frodo stared, caught between disgust at Merry's easy acquiescence and some sort of admiration; he'd handled it all so smoothly. "You didn't even wait for them to ask?"
"Merry shook his head. "And it all seemed to work like a charm at that point. Gormen was perfectly civil -- in a horribly patronizing kind of way, as you can imagine -- said they were quite willing to be flexible about such things, and I thought it would all work out. But then it got to be eight o'clock, and you still weren't back. And do you know, Frodo, they not only closed the doors, they locked us all inside."
"I know," said Frodo softly.
"And I said you still needed to come back, and couldn't I at least wait in the entry room, and I even offered them a few more coins, but they were hard then, said there could be no exceptions. So I went in, and I chatted with the Sandlings, and got myself settled in a bed and got another one reserved for you, and then I waited for you to show up and take care of checking in on your own." He sighed lightly. "I knew you were stubborn, Frodo, but I didn't think you'd feel the need to cause quite so much trouble over such a little thing."
This was really too much, to have Merry lecturing him for doing the right thing. "I wasn't being stubborn," said Frodo, "and it wasn't such a little thing."
"Really, Frodo, would it have killed you to pay a few extra pennies to get in and spend the night with me, and a nice family like the Sandlings and, well, some other traveling hobbits, rather than be locked up with a lot of criminals? It's not as if you're terribly short on funds, after all."
"You know very well it wasn't about the money," said Frodo. "It was… it was…"
"A question of principles?" Merry raised his eyebrows as he said it, and the notion suddenly sounded absurd in his voice.
"Well, yes," Frodo grumbled, much less sure of himself than he'd been the night before. Then, recovering his annoyance with his cousin, he continued, "I couldn't pay them a bribe when I hadn't done anything wrong, Merry, and I still hate to think that you did. It's… by giving into them so easily, you're saying that what they're doing is all right."
"I'm not," Merry countered, "I'm only saying that I'm tired and cold and would rather not go to jail. And no, I'm not saying you wanted this either, so don't look at me like that. But please don't judge me, Frodo. It's just that… there's a way of living in the world."
"Merry, you're fourteen years younger than me. I helped raise you. And I very much disapprove of your lecturing me about how to live in the world."
"Well, I have come of age now, you know. And I should think an independent observer would judge that the free hobbit knows more about living in the world than one who's locked underground, but we may agree to disagree and move on to more practical and important matters, such as breakfast."
So saying, he reached into his pack and pulled out a small feast. Frodo recognized the same wrapping from the parcels he had bought last night, but the smells told him that this food was fresh.
"You went back to the bakery?"
"Of course I did, Frodo, I was hungry."
"But you didn't--"
"I'm teasing, cousin. Obviously I knew I needed to talk to whoever you talked to last night. Backman was probably the last hobbit to see you before they took you away. And I figured he'd be more free with his information than Gormen and Ilga, though in truth he resisted quite a bit at first."
"So you met Shem and…"
"And his lovely wife, Peony, yes, and ordered the food first of all. But as soon as I mentioned you, he started interrogating me. What was I doing there, what had you told me, didn't I know better than to come back there and attract attention to the place, that kind of thing. So rather than ask him a lot of questions I played dumb, kept quiet and let him explain quite a bit just by chewing me out. In the end I told him I needed to get away as soon as possible to check up on you, but that I 'understood,' and that I was 'with them,' and I'd be back later to see what we could 'figure out together.'"
Merry was grinning and Frodo was quite confused.
"Come, now, Frodo," Merry patted his shoulder with condescension. "That home is obviously the center of some conspiracy or other, and Backman's one of the leaders of it, or he wouldn't act so nervous. I figured if I acted like a collaborator, we'd have more of a chance of getting him and his to collaborate with me, so to speak, get you out of jail and get both of us out of Bree. I trust you don't have any moral objections to that."
"It isn't that, Merry, it's… You don't know anything about these people…"
"Not true at all. I know Backman's a hobbit, know he makes fine pies, and know he's against the government of Bree. That's enough to make him a friend in my book. Furthermore, I strongly suspect he's somehow working against that government, and that he's got friends who are capable of accomplishing something big, if I can give them a reason to go for it now. And that makes him my best friend."
Frodo frowned.
"My best non-incarcerated friend," Merry amended, rolling his eyes a bit. "Now, tell me what you know."
"I didn't meet Mrs. Backman," Frodo said in a low tone, "but there was a man there last night, a Ranger."
"A big man?" Merry asked suspiciously.
"Yes, a big man," Frodo said in exasperation. "They're not all evil, you know. This one seemed to be a friend of Shem's. Not as friendly, you know, and not pleased to see me there at all… but if it's as you say, some sort of conspiracy, than this man, Strider, he's a part of it. You need to go back--"
"I was planning to go back, I told you that."
"Don't interrupt, Merry. You need to go back and make that part of what you know. Let Backman know that you understand the importance of having friends who believe in justice, who want to protect Big Folk and Little…"
"I see," said Merry excitedly, "and if there's a big man and an important one on our side, then we figure out how best to make use of him, right?"
"Right," Frodo agreed, then paused, bothered. "I say, Merry, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Merry reached out and gently pulled Frodo's hand and kerchief away from his nose, which had stopped bleeding. "You know I can't stand it," he said seriously.
"No, you can't stand this" -- Frodo indicated his nose without touching it again, wary of causing the pain or bleeding to start again -- "but if you didn't have to look at the blood, if you could be sure everything would come out right in the end and I wouldn't be hurt too badly, you'd be glorying in all this. You like having me locked in here and helpless while you're out there scheming and conspiring and proving your cleverness. You can't wait to be the hero of the story. And I already know you'll be telling this story at the tavern until we're both old and grey."
Merry was shaking his head but fighting to hide a guilty smirk, and Frodo knew he was right on the mark.
"It isn't that I like seeing you in trouble, Frodo, it's just that…"
"Yes?"
"Well, it's just that you lend yourself so well to these situations."
"I have never in my life been in a situation like this."
"No, of course not, Frodo, nothing quite so grim as this, but there was that time… with the honey, you remember, and the tree."
"You think it's helpful to remind me of these things, Merry?" said Frodo with a grimace.
"And the other time, with Reginard and Lotho, and the flour and the eggs," Merry continued blithely.
"Ah, yes, Lobelia wanted me dead when she found out."
"She still wants that, don't be too easy," Merry chuckled. "Oh, and do you remember back when you were living at the Hall, those horrible Big Folk who wanted to cross at the Ferry? And you wanted to be their best friend!"
"I didn't want--"
"I was six and I had more sense than you." And for a moment Merry did not sound amused or teasing but genuinely troubled. "You could have been kidnapped, Frodo, you could have been--"
"I wouldn't have been kidnapped," Frodo interrupted "They weren't so horrible, just a little rough is all." So he had told the child Merry at the time, when really Frodo had been shaken, still hated to think what might have happened if Saradoc hadn't come along.
"That's it though, that's what you do. You're too good, Frodo, and you go around assuming everyone else is as honest and kind and well-intentioned as yourself, whether it's ruffians or Sackville-Bagginses or wild bees."
"Or hostellers," Frodo said unhappily.
"Or lawmen or jailers, sure. But it's all right, you see, because this is what we do, those of us who love you. We try to give you advice, but we know you won't listen. So we look out for you and, when the need arises, we rescue you."
Frodo's instinct was to roll his eyes, or to return with some sarcastic remark or other. But in truth he had nothing to say, since he really could think of nothing to do for himself, really was hoping for Merry and whatever allies he could find to rescue him. Some moments passed while Frodo searched for something to say, and when the guard called down for them from the top of the stairs Frodo was distressed to think he had wasted even a little of their time together. Not meaning to send Merry off in too dour a mood but not liking his self-satisfied air either, he chided, "Just try not to look so cheerful about it, would you?"
"Yes," said Merry, gathering his things and helping Frodo to stand again. And he really did seem serious this time, perhaps too serious. "I'll go try to talk to them again now. Will you be all right here?" He touched a hand to his face. "A stupid question, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, Merry. If I can survive Sackville-Bagginses and killer bees, a night or two in jail won't undo me."
Oaks' steps sounded on the stairs.
"Just don't do whatever it was you did just before I saw you." Merry looked nervous, as if he guessed that whatever Frodo did might have something to do with him, but he wouldn't ask.
"Of course, dear." And Frodo needn't tell him, not for now.
series tag | fic index
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Title: A Brief Adventure, chapter 5/?
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: Thanks to
lilybaggins for the beta! Remaining errors and flaws are my own damn fault; if you happen to notice any please drop me a line and let me know.Warnings: AU and fairly silly. Some violence.
Frodo didn't feel rested when he awoke. Someone was shouting, but Frodo decided the shouting could not be directed at him. It was still dark and Frodo was sore from sleeping on the floor, but sleeping was preferable to taking his surroundings into full account. So Frodo kept his eyes closed and managed to ignore the noise until he also felt a hand on his shoulder and heard another voice, close by. "It's you they're calling for, Frodo," someone said. "But don't worry, it's nothing they want. It seems someone's come to see you."
Frodo had nothing to do before going out to see his visitor -- no other clothes to change into, no water with which to wash, no hairbrush or looking glass to make himself presentable. And it was just as well, because the guard standing menacingly outside the hobbits' cell seemed in no mood to wait for him. Besides that, Frodo wanted to waste no time in getting to the next step, whatever that was, toward getting out of here for good. He thanked Hank for waking him and stood up as quickly as he could, leaning briefly against the wall as he waited for the slight dizziness to pass, then walked the short distance across to the door of the cell.
"Don't need to do up your hands again, do we?" said the man. "Not gonna try anything you shouldn't?"
"No, sir," Frodo said quietly, careful to look down. This was Oaks, the guard the others had warned him about last night.
"Good then." He unlocked the door and opened it enough for Frodo to step out. "Spent enough time waiting for you already." He pushed Frodo ahead of him, holding onto him by the shoulder. "What is it with you halflings, anyway, sleeping and eating all day? How do you expect to get anything done that way?"
Frodo thought about saying that he hadn't eaten, or that it had been difficult to fall asleep without a bed, but he thought it best to keep quiet. He wondered just how much of the day he had slept through. It was as dark in the passageway as it had been before, as he supposed it always was in the underground jail.
Oaks jerked sharply at his shoulder and Frodo, still walking, nearly stumbled. The man had stopped and now turned the hobbit around to face him. "I asked you a question, lad," he sneered. "It's impolite not to answer, don't you know?" He held the lantern closer to Frodo's face then and took a closer look. "Seems you haven't slept much though," he commented, "you look a fright. What happened, did those other halflings keep you awake with the noises they make together? And I s'pose you must have felt left out, lying on the mat all by your lonesome."
"I don't understand, sir," Frodo stammered.
Oaks smiled down at him, reminding Frodo of the men who'd grinned while tormenting him the night before. "I think you do, Mr. Baggins. But I'll say it nice and plain for you. I'm saying: you halflings, you eat too much, you sleep too much, and you can't seem to keep your hands off each other, and I wish you'd explain it all to me."
"There's nothing to explain," Frodo bristled. "Eating and sleeping are healthy, and they help a hobbit have enough energy to work when work needs to be done. I'm out of sorts now because I haven't had enough of either. As for showing affection, Ed and Ted are brothers. And Nob and Hank are only close friends. Surely you know how often Hank's Daisy comes to see him."
"Close friends what like to cuddle up in bed, sure, I know all about your kind."
"Never mind that you only provide two beds for five hobbits," Frodo could barely keep from shouting. "Two people sleeping close in a cold dark place means nothing more than that, trying to give each other a little warmth and a little comfort…" his words trailed off as he heard the connotations the big man would probably give them. At the same time, a glint in the jailer's eyes reminded him who he was talking to, and where he was, and he dropped his gaze, finishing his speech with a quiet "sir."
"Forgot yourself for a moment, there, did you, halfling?" Oaks sneered. "Seems to me like you're awful sensitive about who's cuddling with who. Your friend's waiting for you in the front room, but I bet you wish he could stay and keep you company, give you some warmth and comfort tonight, eh? Something you'd like us to arrange?"
Before Frodo could react to this insinuation, or even to the welcome knowledge that it was Merry who was waiting to see him, he heard loud snicker from inside the cell to his right. Suddenly Frodo realized that this whole exchange was probably being put on for the entertainment of those prisoners, that a whole group of them were staring and had been holding in their laughter until now. Frodo's incensed face was even being lit up for them by the lantern.
"We don't mind keeping him company in here, sir," one of the men called out. "If he's cold, you know, we'd be happy to help out."
There were more shouts of laughter and agreement from the big men, and Frodo, no longer thinking clearly, found himself twisting away, trying to escape from Oaks' hard grip and the glaring light of the spectacle. He was free for half a second before the blow landed, square on his nose, and all Frodo's vision went white, despite the constant darkness. When he came back to himself Frodo found he was seated, with pain in his bottom where he had fallen and hit the ground, and on his back from hitting the wall of the passageway; but the pain was most intense on his face. He had a hand to his nose and could feel the blood dripping out and through his fingers.
The other men had gone silent and the jailer's voice was menacingly quiet and close. "You forget yourself, halfling." Frodo tried shaking his head and nearly cried out at the pain it brought him. "Now keep still if you know what's good for you. You told me you wouldn't try anything." Frodo breathed and tried not to move or to think, knowing it would only lead to pain and panic. "Now," Oaks continued, "if you want to go have your talk with your little friend, you'll mind your manners on my watch. Understood?"
Keeping very still, Frodo answered, "Yes, sir," and sensed that both Oaks and the other prisoners were nodding in approval. Understood, yes, Frodo understood that he had been deliberately provoked so that he would put up some little resistance and be brought down for it. And the other hobbits had even warned him that Oaks would try such a thing. Frodo felt foolish for having fallen for the trick, and humiliated for submitting now. But mostly he felt pain, and the need to get out of this close passageway and out to where Merry was waiting for him. It didn't matter what he said or did in the meantime.
"Stand up now." Oaks pulled at his shoulder and Frodo leaned against the rough wall for balance as he stood. As eager as he was to get to Merry, Frodo was nervous and his steps were small. Oaks kept a hold on him but did not rush him. When they reached the metal gate Frodo could see Merry waiting there for him, tense, angry. He wanted to warn Merry to be careful, to be humble, but he didn't dare speak up.
When the gate opened Merry immediately had his arms around Frodo, was whispering something about how he loved him and how everything would work out all right. Frodo felt Oaks' leering gaze on them and he pulled out of the embrace with a terse, "Thank you, cousin."
Merry looked startled but was not distracted from his attention to Frodo. He carefully pulled Frodo's hand away from his nose and held up a clean handkerchief, giving Frodo time to take it with his other hand. It was only then that Frodo noticed he'd been allowing the sleeve of his shirt to soak up the blood. Not his shirt, but Hank's good shirt, now stained with blood because of Frodo's own foolishness. He swore softly.
"What is it, Frodo?" Merry asked. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, it… It hurts, but it's… the shirt…" Couldn't Frodo even speak properly?
It didn't matter, as Oaks had grown bored with their conversation and wanted them out of the way. "There's some chairs in the corner there, where most of the visitors sit," he said. "Probably too big for you though, so you can sit on the floor. There's other folk waiting upstairs," he grumbled, "and I need to see about more paperwork. You two settle in there." Merry helped Frodo to walk over to the corner and sit down near the chairs, which were indeed too big for them. "That's fine," said Oaks, "and don't move from there, or you know there'll be consequences, yeah?"
"Yes, sir," said Frodo quickly, ignoring Merry's look of disgust. He squeezed his cousin's hand, and the two of them quietly waited for the man to leave.
Once they were alone in the little room, between the two locked doors, Merry very gently ran a hand through Frodo's hair and then kissed his head. "Go ahead, Frodo," he said, hushed and furious, "tell me not to curse the wide world just because that man hit you."
"You can curse as much as you want, Merry, but it won't get either of us out of here."
For a moment Merry looked devastated, and Frodo thought of apologizing. None of this was Merry's fault, after all, but Frodo was angry and hurt too, and he didn't feel like making anyone else comfortable.
"It's all horrible," said Frodo, "I don't know what chance we have. You wouldn't believe the things the other hobbits here told me last night. Apparently there's some idiotic new mayor in Bree who's going around saying all the Big Folk's problems come from their being too keen on smoking pipe-weed, and he lays all the blame for that on the hobbits who sell the stuff, so now no hobbit can do anything right, whether he has anything to do with the pipe-weed trade or not."
"I know all that already, Frodo. What, did you think I was sleeping the whole time we were apart?"
These words reminded Frodo of Oaks' words about lazy halflings and made the pain in his nose feel sharper as blood rushed to his face in shame. But what did Frodo have to be ashamed of?
Merry continued, "I had other hobbits to talk with last night too. In my own jail, you might say. Do you know there are Bree-hobbits living in that horrible barracks of a place as well? Folk who got turned out of their smials and had no other place to go. Well, and they told me all about it, this mayor Briary and his cronies. They say anytime anything goes wrong in the village, if it's a big man's house that gets robbed or one of them loses his job or a business fails, they figure out a way to blame it on hobbits." He shook his head, and added, "Ridiculous."
"Yes," said Frodo, feeling very small and young, as he was not used to feeling around Merry.
"And meanwhile, they say these men are making a scandalous profit out of it all, the property they confiscate and the fines and fees they charge."
"Two of the hobbits I met here were jailed for trying to sell pipe-weed without paying for a license first," said Frodo. "One of them does it for a living, but the other used to work in the inn, The Prancing Pony, you know, and just sold a few pounds of it. For the convenience of the guests, you know, and to help out his friend."
Merry nodded, unsurprised, and Frodo wondered if any scandal had the power to shock anymore.
"I doubt they'll be getting out anytime soon then," said Merry. "But don't despair, Frodo. I do believe there's some hope for your case, even though I'm a little fuzzy on the details. You broke the law, sure, but curfew isn't as important to them as pipe-weed, that being the central excuse for the whole exercise. Really I think your main infraction was to be so stubborn, enough to go and get yourself arrested when any sensible hobbit would have paid whatever sum was necessary in order to be with his beloved cousin."
"I couldn't believe they expected that," Frodo muttered, still repelled by the memory.
"Couldn't believe it?" Merry repeated in a tone that suggested that he, for his part, couldn't believe Frodo's gullibility.
"No," said Frodo, feeling defensive. "Why should I?"
"They're not good people, Frodo. They make their living by charging unfair rates of hobbits who have no choice but to pay. How could you expect them to be honorable?"
"Do you mean to say you knew it was coming?"
"Of course I did. I was paying attention, anyway, while you were chatting with the Sandlings -- that other hobbit family, you know -- and making big sad eyes at their little ones. There were two hobbits in line ahead of us who didn't have any papers. I saw there was a bit of discussion, and a bit of digging in their pockets, so I was prepared when it got to be my turn. I told that Gormen right away: my cousin and I were visiting here for the first time, so sorry we weren't aware of all the proper regulations and I hoped there wouldn't be any problems. And I handed him the twenty-five coins.
Frodo stared, caught between disgust at Merry's easy acquiescence and some sort of admiration; he'd handled it all so smoothly. "You didn't even wait for them to ask?"
"Merry shook his head. "And it all seemed to work like a charm at that point. Gormen was perfectly civil -- in a horribly patronizing kind of way, as you can imagine -- said they were quite willing to be flexible about such things, and I thought it would all work out. But then it got to be eight o'clock, and you still weren't back. And do you know, Frodo, they not only closed the doors, they locked us all inside."
"I know," said Frodo softly.
"And I said you still needed to come back, and couldn't I at least wait in the entry room, and I even offered them a few more coins, but they were hard then, said there could be no exceptions. So I went in, and I chatted with the Sandlings, and got myself settled in a bed and got another one reserved for you, and then I waited for you to show up and take care of checking in on your own." He sighed lightly. "I knew you were stubborn, Frodo, but I didn't think you'd feel the need to cause quite so much trouble over such a little thing."
This was really too much, to have Merry lecturing him for doing the right thing. "I wasn't being stubborn," said Frodo, "and it wasn't such a little thing."
"Really, Frodo, would it have killed you to pay a few extra pennies to get in and spend the night with me, and a nice family like the Sandlings and, well, some other traveling hobbits, rather than be locked up with a lot of criminals? It's not as if you're terribly short on funds, after all."
"You know very well it wasn't about the money," said Frodo. "It was… it was…"
"A question of principles?" Merry raised his eyebrows as he said it, and the notion suddenly sounded absurd in his voice.
"Well, yes," Frodo grumbled, much less sure of himself than he'd been the night before. Then, recovering his annoyance with his cousin, he continued, "I couldn't pay them a bribe when I hadn't done anything wrong, Merry, and I still hate to think that you did. It's… by giving into them so easily, you're saying that what they're doing is all right."
"I'm not," Merry countered, "I'm only saying that I'm tired and cold and would rather not go to jail. And no, I'm not saying you wanted this either, so don't look at me like that. But please don't judge me, Frodo. It's just that… there's a way of living in the world."
"Merry, you're fourteen years younger than me. I helped raise you. And I very much disapprove of your lecturing me about how to live in the world."
"Well, I have come of age now, you know. And I should think an independent observer would judge that the free hobbit knows more about living in the world than one who's locked underground, but we may agree to disagree and move on to more practical and important matters, such as breakfast."
So saying, he reached into his pack and pulled out a small feast. Frodo recognized the same wrapping from the parcels he had bought last night, but the smells told him that this food was fresh.
"You went back to the bakery?"
"Of course I did, Frodo, I was hungry."
"But you didn't--"
"I'm teasing, cousin. Obviously I knew I needed to talk to whoever you talked to last night. Backman was probably the last hobbit to see you before they took you away. And I figured he'd be more free with his information than Gormen and Ilga, though in truth he resisted quite a bit at first."
"So you met Shem and…"
"And his lovely wife, Peony, yes, and ordered the food first of all. But as soon as I mentioned you, he started interrogating me. What was I doing there, what had you told me, didn't I know better than to come back there and attract attention to the place, that kind of thing. So rather than ask him a lot of questions I played dumb, kept quiet and let him explain quite a bit just by chewing me out. In the end I told him I needed to get away as soon as possible to check up on you, but that I 'understood,' and that I was 'with them,' and I'd be back later to see what we could 'figure out together.'"
Merry was grinning and Frodo was quite confused.
"Come, now, Frodo," Merry patted his shoulder with condescension. "That home is obviously the center of some conspiracy or other, and Backman's one of the leaders of it, or he wouldn't act so nervous. I figured if I acted like a collaborator, we'd have more of a chance of getting him and his to collaborate with me, so to speak, get you out of jail and get both of us out of Bree. I trust you don't have any moral objections to that."
"It isn't that, Merry, it's… You don't know anything about these people…"
"Not true at all. I know Backman's a hobbit, know he makes fine pies, and know he's against the government of Bree. That's enough to make him a friend in my book. Furthermore, I strongly suspect he's somehow working against that government, and that he's got friends who are capable of accomplishing something big, if I can give them a reason to go for it now. And that makes him my best friend."
Frodo frowned.
"My best non-incarcerated friend," Merry amended, rolling his eyes a bit. "Now, tell me what you know."
"I didn't meet Mrs. Backman," Frodo said in a low tone, "but there was a man there last night, a Ranger."
"A big man?" Merry asked suspiciously.
"Yes, a big man," Frodo said in exasperation. "They're not all evil, you know. This one seemed to be a friend of Shem's. Not as friendly, you know, and not pleased to see me there at all… but if it's as you say, some sort of conspiracy, than this man, Strider, he's a part of it. You need to go back--"
"I was planning to go back, I told you that."
"Don't interrupt, Merry. You need to go back and make that part of what you know. Let Backman know that you understand the importance of having friends who believe in justice, who want to protect Big Folk and Little…"
"I see," said Merry excitedly, "and if there's a big man and an important one on our side, then we figure out how best to make use of him, right?"
"Right," Frodo agreed, then paused, bothered. "I say, Merry, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Merry reached out and gently pulled Frodo's hand and kerchief away from his nose, which had stopped bleeding. "You know I can't stand it," he said seriously.
"No, you can't stand this" -- Frodo indicated his nose without touching it again, wary of causing the pain or bleeding to start again -- "but if you didn't have to look at the blood, if you could be sure everything would come out right in the end and I wouldn't be hurt too badly, you'd be glorying in all this. You like having me locked in here and helpless while you're out there scheming and conspiring and proving your cleverness. You can't wait to be the hero of the story. And I already know you'll be telling this story at the tavern until we're both old and grey."
Merry was shaking his head but fighting to hide a guilty smirk, and Frodo knew he was right on the mark.
"It isn't that I like seeing you in trouble, Frodo, it's just that…"
"Yes?"
"Well, it's just that you lend yourself so well to these situations."
"I have never in my life been in a situation like this."
"No, of course not, Frodo, nothing quite so grim as this, but there was that time… with the honey, you remember, and the tree."
"You think it's helpful to remind me of these things, Merry?" said Frodo with a grimace.
"And the other time, with Reginard and Lotho, and the flour and the eggs," Merry continued blithely.
"Ah, yes, Lobelia wanted me dead when she found out."
"She still wants that, don't be too easy," Merry chuckled. "Oh, and do you remember back when you were living at the Hall, those horrible Big Folk who wanted to cross at the Ferry? And you wanted to be their best friend!"
"I didn't want--"
"I was six and I had more sense than you." And for a moment Merry did not sound amused or teasing but genuinely troubled. "You could have been kidnapped, Frodo, you could have been--"
"I wouldn't have been kidnapped," Frodo interrupted "They weren't so horrible, just a little rough is all." So he had told the child Merry at the time, when really Frodo had been shaken, still hated to think what might have happened if Saradoc hadn't come along.
"That's it though, that's what you do. You're too good, Frodo, and you go around assuming everyone else is as honest and kind and well-intentioned as yourself, whether it's ruffians or Sackville-Bagginses or wild bees."
"Or hostellers," Frodo said unhappily.
"Or lawmen or jailers, sure. But it's all right, you see, because this is what we do, those of us who love you. We try to give you advice, but we know you won't listen. So we look out for you and, when the need arises, we rescue you."
Frodo's instinct was to roll his eyes, or to return with some sarcastic remark or other. But in truth he had nothing to say, since he really could think of nothing to do for himself, really was hoping for Merry and whatever allies he could find to rescue him. Some moments passed while Frodo searched for something to say, and when the guard called down for them from the top of the stairs Frodo was distressed to think he had wasted even a little of their time together. Not meaning to send Merry off in too dour a mood but not liking his self-satisfied air either, he chided, "Just try not to look so cheerful about it, would you?"
"Yes," said Merry, gathering his things and helping Frodo to stand again. And he really did seem serious this time, perhaps too serious. "I'll go try to talk to them again now. Will you be all right here?" He touched a hand to his face. "A stupid question, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, Merry. If I can survive Sackville-Bagginses and killer bees, a night or two in jail won't undo me."
Oaks' steps sounded on the stairs.
"Just don't do whatever it was you did just before I saw you." Merry looked nervous, as if he guessed that whatever Frodo did might have something to do with him, but he wouldn't ask.
"Of course, dear." And Frodo needn't tell him, not for now.
series tag | fic index
no subject
no subject
It's always wonderful to read your comments, Claudia, thank you so much.
no subject
♥♥♥
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
And hurray for Strider!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
It's very nice and great fun to have another Bree fic to enjoy! I really like the idea of Bree turning into a sinister place for hobbits and how one leader and his cronies can change the attitudes of an entire society by spreading fear and lies. Alas. it so reminds me of human history and how prejudice gets started and propagated.
And the whole atmosphere is scary and oppressive, "Your papers, please!" and very B-movie sleazy, hehe, love it!
I also love your characterizations. I can just see our self-righteous Frodo, who will stand up for truth and justice no matter the somewhat ridiculous nature of the confrontation. I kept saying, "Just pay the $2.00, already!" But our dear Frodo is just too much the sheltered gentlehobbit to accept the ways of the outside world. Perfect, though, and gives Frodo a bit of a quirk to be overcome.
And Merry, oh yes, this is how I see the little Brandybuck--very worldly and feisty (probably comes from hanging out with river hobbits on the Brandywine)--just a practical, a no-sweat kind of guy. He's the perfect foil for serious, naive, fair-minded Frodo. Yum.
Anyway, thanks for a great story and I look forward to enjoying it more and more. :)
no subject
no subject
no subject