elderberrywine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elderberrywine) wrote2009-11-14 01:52 pm
elderberrywine) wrote2009-11-14 01:52 pm
Just Time to Update
Here is the third chapter of the current Baggins/Gamgee that was posted last week at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
waymeet for the ROTK quote challenge.
Chapter Four currently looks to be about a week away from posting, but blimey if I can tell how many chapters this one will be in total. Our boys have gotten themselves in deep this time. :D
Title: News From Bree, Chapter Three
Author: Elderberry Wine
Pairing: Baggins/Gamgee
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 5224
Quote: Sam would not go to bed until he had visited Bill in his stable.
Summary: Another party is added to the team and Samwise still feels foolish. Part of the 221B Bag End AU.
I do not remember too much more of that evening. I do remember Baggins and Reedborn assisting me back to the room, to my utter mortification. I do remember Baggins’ polite insistence to Reedborn, when I was finally deposited on the bed, that it was a matter of the fatigue of the road, and that with a good night’s rest, I would be fit as ever on the morrow.
And then, once we were alone again, I remember his compassionate hand on my brow, his light touch with a cooling cloth on my face, and his gentleness in undressing me. I felt awful and, what was worse, a complete dunderpate, but he refused to hear my self-incriminations, and lay a quieting finger across my lips. “Not a word of it, Samwise,” he instructed me firmly. “You were, indeed, tired, hungry, and unused to such drink. Now is the time for both of us to get some rest, and I am quite sure you will feel better about it all tomorrow. Now lie quietly, dearest, and I shall be back in a moment.”
And so I lay on my side and watched him as he deftly banked the fire, snuffed out the candles, and shed his own clothing. Then I was in his arms, and I felt all care and embarrassment and misery drain from me, leaving me warm and at peace, and loving him more than ever. Sleep quickly found us both.
&&&&&
I stirred awake, cracking my eyes open in the white early morning light. I was deliciously warm, back against Frodo’s chest, with a loving arm wrapped about me, and I could hear his rhythmic breathing behind me indicating that he was yet asleep. It wasn’t until I rashly moved my head that the events of the evening before came flooding back into my memory.
The pain of that incautious move caused me to give an involuntary moan, and my companion was awake instantly. Letting me roll on my back, he propped himself up next to me, gazing at me with a simultaneously loving and amused expression. “The Prancing Pony’s own leaves its mark, I see,” he murmured.
I could not help but wince in agreement. Words were not something for which I cared to fumble at the moment.
Baggins smile deepened as lay a gentle hand on my forehead. “At least you were prudent enough to not leave a tribute at the Ranger’s feet, my dear. I was not so prudent on a certain occasion regarding the Master of Brandy Hall. I’m quite sure he still remembers it vividly, although he has been gracious enough to have never brought it up since then.”
I blinked at the confirmation of the identity of my observer, for I had not been entirely sure of whom I thought I’d seen the previous night. “He was a Ranger, then?” I found my voice, ignoring the throbbing in my head that that rash act set off.
“Apparently so, or at least according to Reedborn, and I have no doubt but that he should know. His name is Strider, I understand.”
“Did he say anything?” I had to know.
“No,” Baggins gave an affectionate smile, and brushed a wayward curl from my forehead. “But I have to admit he now unmistakably knows that we are in town. Possibly not a bad thing, actually. We shall give it some time and see what becomes of it.”
“But waiting is not a talent of mine,” his voice suddenly turned brisk and he swung his legs out of bed. “You need something in your stomach, my dear Gamgee, and that headache will soon be on its way. You may be the healer, but mine is the voice of experience; trust me on this particular matter.”
&&&&&
Baggins was entirely right, of course. Once we had dispatched a substantial combined first and second breakfast, in deference to local custom, I was beginning to feel far more like myself once again. So when Baggins proposed a walking tour of Bree, to acquaint ourselves with this interesting locale, I had no objections.
Snow was holding off for the moment, as we set to the streets, but clearly not for long. The air was frigid, and the occasional blast of air from the north would whip our cloaks smartly about us. Once again, the patches of ice on the gutted surface of the slushy streets demanded one’s full attention, if one proceeded by foot, and it was difficult to gaze much about us. But I did notice that the varied array of residents of Bree seemed to keep their affairs to themselves. There was little of the camaraderie or cheerful greeting that one would find on the streets of any village in the Shire. It was difficult to determine if it was simply the nature of the folk hereabouts, or if the town contained a sizeable contingent of strangers such as ourselves.
I quietly mentioned as much to Baggins, as we strode closely together down one street after another, and he gave a nod of agreement. “I thought there might be a hobbit or two who would stop by our table at the inn, last night, to greet or at least pose a question or two of us, but there were none so inclined. A tight-lipped lot, to be sure, and quite possibly for very good reasons. Isn’t it odd, Gamgee, how the far side of Bree is so very less fortified than the side facing the Road?” he changed the subject abruptly and stopped near a sheltering wall to draw his pipe from his pocket. “Apparently, they have little fear of danger from the north. Another indication that the Rangers are to be considered quite efficient, I would surmise.”
The pipe was tempting, but I did not feel sufficiently courageous to attempt it just yet, so I shoved my hands in my pockets and nodded agreement. “It is rather difficult to credit Rangers being as dangerous a folk as some in the Shire would have one believe if they sit peaceably about in crowded taverns of an evening,” I mentioned, stamping my feet slightly to keep them warm.
Baggins gave a chuckle of concurrence. “Succinct as ever, Gamgee, my dear,” he murmured. “Well, let us just continue out a bit more, and then head back. Perhaps Reedborn may be able to direct our steps in a more productive manner this afternoon.”
We continued down the streets, which were gradually turning into muddy lanes. It wasn’t too long before I quietly mentioned to Baggins that it had been quite awhile since I had noticed a smial.
Baggins nodded, and murmured, “I observed the same myself. Perhaps it would be prudent to retrace our steps back to the inn.”
We had, at this point, ranged far from the town of Bree proper, and into what appeared to be meager farms which clearly, from the size of the shabby dwellings, belonged to men. Already, I had perceived that we were on the receiving end of some distinctly unfriendly stares, and had begun to realize that there were some generally understood conventions in Bree, and that we had run afoul of them. Baggins, far better than myself at hiding any discomfort at the situation in which we had found ourselves, gave a cool glance about, and with a nod and private smile, as if he had found what he had intended to find, turned about and began to walk briskly back in the direction in which we had come.
With a certain amount of alarm, I noticed that there were more observers now, as we re-traced our steps, than had originally been out in the cold morning. Some of the men were leaning against their weathered wooden fences and smoking pipes of their own as we passed, an unlikely pastime on such a frigid morning, and the expressions on their faces left no doubt that we were the center of their unfriendly attention. It was as we passed one particularly ill-favored specimen, his face apparently twisted in a permanent sneer, that I noticed the unfortunate pony and gave an involuntary exclamation of dismay.
The bony grey mill-pony, his head bowed in obvious misery, was tethered to the central stump in the center in a ring of well-trodden snow. Some bits of vegetation were still to be seen under the dusting of snow, but they were out of reach of the unfortunate beast. And yet he kept straining toward them, clearly desperate for food.
“Well, now, Ferny,” came the scornful drawl as the neighbor of the pony’s owner, apparently looking for a bit of amusement, crossed the lane to join him. “Looks like these wee little men don’t care too much for the way you treat your own property.”
Ferny gave a grunt at that comment. “I’m not seeing where they’ve aught to say about it,” he growled, with an ominous move in our direction. “Unless they’re looking t’take this sorry beast off of my hands, they best be on their way and right quickly, at that.”
I’m not quite sure why the pony’s unfortunate fate hit me quite so hard, but I do know that I never gave a second thought to the matter before the words blurted out of my mouth. “Perhaps that is exactly what we are looking to do,” I responded angrily. “What is your price, sir?”
Both men immediately guffawed at my response, and the first nudged Ferny in the ribs. “Well, there you go! And wasn’t you just a-sayin’ as you were on the look-out for a new pony, since this one was a worthless sorry nag? But these fine judges of pony-flesh seem to think different, now, don’t they?”
Ferny gave another grunt, seemingly his preferred means of communication. “Very well then, my little man,” he finally removed his pipe long enough from his mouth to answer. “If you’ve the price, the beast is all yours,” and he named an amount that was clearly exorbitant.
But I was of no mind to negotiate and the fellow was, I don’t mind admitting, enraging me. I nodded shortly, and pulled my purse from my pocket, counting out all that it contained. It was slightly less than what the farmer had asked, but without a word, Baggins, who had been witnessing this exchange attentively, withdrew the balance from his own pocket and added it to mine. Upon receipt of the purse, both men burst into gales of raucous laughter, and Ferny picked up a rusty axe that was leaning next to the stump, bringing it down on the rope. Handing the frayed end to me with mock politesse, he bowed in derision. “Any time you fine gentlemen wish to do more business with me, you come right on by. I’ve a few chickens in the shed as are doing poorly, if you’re in the market for something smaller.”
I furiously snatched up the rope, and started back down the road without a look back, Baggins at my side.
&&&&&
By the time we were out of sight of that wretched farm and its miserable inhabitants, we were re-entering the outskirts of Bree, and Baggins, still silent, pulled me into the first side street where he gave me a resounding kiss, to the astonishment of the few passers-by. “Well done, Gamgee, my dear, really, quite well done! Now let us examine this unfortunate beast.” The pony, head still down and his breathing labored, stood in silence and gave us not a glance. “Hmm,” Baggins frowned, as he laid a gentle hand on the pony’s ribcage and listened to the poor creature’s breathing. “I must tell you, my dear, this pony is in rather a bad way. Still, one never knows.” With that, he drew an apple out of his pocket and handed it over to me. “I pocketed this at breakfast, in case you were feeling a bit peckish later, but this unlucky animal clearly needs it more. But he is yours, now, Sam, so you should give it to him.” And he tossed it lightly over to me.
Not quite knowing what else to do, I stroked the pony’s matted head and held the apple out to him. “Here you go, m’dear,” I murmured, not quite sure if the animal would take it. “Don’t you worry now, Bill, dearie, you’ve seen the last of that villain.”
The pony stood silent for a moment, but his nostrils flared, and then before I knew it, he had cautiously snatched the apple from my outstretched hand, and was munching greedily on it. It was gone in no time, but Bill gave a snort of satisfaction as he finished it, and then for the first time, his eyes met mine.
“Ah,” Baggins said at my side with quiet approval, “he may turn out all right after all. Bill, is he?”
I reddened slightly, but continued to stroke the beast. “Just seemed the proper name, somehow,” I said, slightly gruffly.
“Quite right. Well, it’s time we take him back to the inn then. We should be able to stable him along with Barrel and Bottle, and with luck, fatten him up in time to take him back to the Shire with us.”
As we started back to the inn, though, a sudden thought struck me. “Frodo!” I could not help but blurt out, turning to him stricken. “That was most of our traveling funds that I handed over to that scoundrel! I just never thought, my dear!”
Baggins chuckled and wrapped an arm tightly about my shoulders. “Of course you didn’t, Samwise, which is precisely why I love you so. I’ll see if Reedborn does not know of somewhere we can get a small loan, should we need it. He has been here on business often enough. Don’t fret, my dearest Gamgee. I’m sure Bill will turn out to be worth far more than we ever paid for him.”
And little did either of us realize at the time how prophetic those words were to be.
&&&&&&
We found Reedborn impatiently awaiting us when we reached the Prancing Pony, a short while later. “Where is Bobbin?” he asked with dismay, his face falling, as he greeted us in the entryway. “Is he not with you?”
“Not at all,” Baggins swiftly answered. “Have you not seen him today?”
“No, not since breakfast,” Reedborn replied, with obvious dismay. “This is not the sort of place for a young lad to be alone in, and I don’t mind tellin’ you that I’m that worried. But that ain’t all. Let’s head to your room, and I don’t mind who sees us.”
“Just a moment,” Baggins held up a cautionary hand. “We now have another member of our party to be accounted for. Gamgee has acquired a pony.”
Reedborn directed a startled glance in my direction. “Well, yes, it was rather unexpected,” I muttered. “Don’t worry, I’ll see to Bill and join you both in a bit.”
Baggins clasped my shoulder tightly, for a moment, and then headed down the long hallway with Reedborn, as I looked anxiously about for Ned. Barleyman’s assistant soon appeared, trotting in from what I assumed were the kitchens, as he had a steaming platter in one hand and a kettle in the other. “Master Gamgee,” he gave me a friendly bow, pausing for a moment in the process of discharging his duties.
“Ehrm, yes, actually I was looking for you,” I began, hesitantly. “I’ve a lad, outside, holding on to a pony for me, and I was wondering if he could join Reedborn’s pair for a bit, while we stay here. And he’d be needing something to eat, whatever it is that ponies eat, fairly quickly, for he’s on the thin side, you see.”
Ned’s face justifiably registered confusion at this rambling response, but he gave a affable nod, and promptly collaring an assistant, sent him off with the platter and kettle, and followed me outdoors.
There was no question but that his face fell when he saw Bill. “Ah, the poor creature,” he muttered, and turned to me with a definite trace of anger in his face. “ ‘Twas no hobbit you got this pony from,” he stated flatly, and I saw no point in dissembling.
“Indeed not,” I agreed quickly. “But I must confess to not knowing much about ponies, and so don’t really know what to ask for, in order to help the poor animal out. Whatever food that would be the most nutritious, I should think, and of course a warm place to stay. Our friend, Reedborn, has a couple of ponies here as well, and it would be desirable if Bill could be placed near to them.”
“Yes, that could be arranged,” Ned assured me, his jaw set with determination. “I’ve a bit of dried summer hay still set aside, and some oats and carrots would go a long way to helping restore him to health. Follow me, Mr. Gamgee, and let’s just see if we can’t make the unfortunate creature comfortable.”
Heartened, I followed Ned to the stables.
&&&&&
The stables were set back at the end of a side street from the inn itself, and consisted of a square courtyard set about with several large sheds and an enormous high-raftered barn. It was into the latter that I followed Ned, rope and pony in hand. There were a couple of men and several hobbits inside who all gave startled looks at Bill as he followed me inside. “Hoy, there, Nob,” Ned called out, and an elderly hobbit immediately answered.
“One of our guests, Mr. Gamgee here, has just acquired a new pony,” he told Nob, with emphasis on the recent timing portion of that statement. “And as you can see, he wants some extra attention. I’d appreciate it if you would see what can be done for, was it Bill?” he turned questioningly back to me.
I nodded, appreciating his explanation, and heard one of the men behind me say softly to the hobbit standing next to him, “I’ll warrant I know where he came from, too. ‘Tis a good thing if that bit of vermin has one less pony to abuse, although I doubt it’ll be for long, more’s the pity.”
Ned gave me a slight bow then and added, “If there’s naught else, Mr. Gamgee, I’ll be off then.” He started out the doorway of the barn, and then stopped and motioned me to him. “There’ll be no charge for Bill,” he said softly, as I joined him, his dark eyes studying me carefully. “I’ll see to that. ‘Twas a real kindness as you did, Mr. Gamgee, and I’m sure it cost you plenty.” And he was gone before I could properly thank him.
It was only as I followed Nob, still leading Bill behind me, that I had an opportunity to look around at the building itself. The barn was huge, the beams high overhead, stockpiled with great bales of dried hay and straw. There were stalls for ponies and even the occasional larger version of animal that I knew to be a horse, although I’d never actually seen one before. There were a number of cows in larger stalls to one side, presumably to provide milk for the inn’s guests, and I could hear an occasional squeal and a cackle or two in the background, which assured me that there were other animals tucked away here as well. Great lanterns, securely fastened high on the thick wooden posts, cast a warm golden gleam inside, and one could not have told whether it was day or night without.
With the hay acting as a sort of insulation, not to mention the warmth of all the barn’s inhabitants, it was comfortably warm inside the barn, and indeed, the hobbits and men who worked inside were obviously comfortable in rolled shirt sleeves, and no jacket necessary. Nob had led me, as I had been staring about, to a larger stall over on the side of the barn where Barrel and Bottle were housed comfortably together, peacefully munching on some hay in a low rack. “Let’s just see how they get on, first,” Nob muttered, taking the rope from me and leading Bill into the stall as well.
The two black ponies stopped eating at the entrance of the newcomer, and walked over to him, sniffing him and bumping him gently with their noses as Bill stood there, head down and trembling slightly, although from hunger or fright, I could not tell. Apparently, though, the newcomer was found to be acceptable, since they then returned to their feed and, moving slightly to the side, allowed Bill to join them.
“Ah, look now,” Nob exclaimed with pleasure. “They took right to him, they did. Well, then, I’ll find some special treats for him, and t’other two will be havin’ the benefit of them likewise. You can go now, Mr. Gamgee, Bill here will be on his feet in no time.”
As much as I was eager to rejoin Baggins and Reedborn though, I lingered another moment as Nob left on his mission. “I’ll be back later, Bill me dear, to see how you’re getting on. Don’t you worry none, me lad,” I whispered into his ear, stoking his head affectionately. “The hard times are past you now.”
&&&&&
I met Baggins and Reedborn walking quickly up the street from the inn, as I made my way from the stables. As soon as they saw me, Reedborn paused, and allowed Baggins to catch up with me. “Bill squared away nicely?” he asked, grasping my shoulder with an affectionate grip.
I nodded, and then his face clouded over slightly. “It seems as if this Ranger has requested to see me alone, or with only Reedborn, I should say. I’m afraid I shall have to point out to him that I keep no secrets from you, and that he either gets the both of us or neither.”
I regret to say I felt foolish all over again, though I desperately tried to keep it out of my voice. “No, really, Baggins, that’s perfectly all right. I shouldn’t mind a bit of a rest.”
But Baggins’ return glance looked right through my feeble subterfuge. “As I mentioned, Gamgee,” he stated quietly but firmly, “he will take us on as a pair or not at all. He will quickly learn how invaluable you are. However, in the meanwhile, perhaps you wouldn’t mind having a look for Bobbin? Apparently he went out, to have a look about this morning, and Reedborn hasn’t seen him since. I don’t mind admitting that his absence worries me.”
“Indeed, that is a matter for concern,” I agreed instantly, immediately forgetting my petty hurts. “I will do so, indeed. When do you expect to be back?”
“Before dinner, if not earlier. Meet me in our room.” He withdrew his hand and gave me a rueful smile. “I promise you, my dear, this Ranger will know your worth soon enough,” he spoke softly. “I certainly do. Take care, Samwise. This is not a tranquil town, no, not by any means, and it would be well to keep our wits about us.”
&&&&&
By the time I set off to look about for the fourth member of our party, it had begun to snow again. It was not much after noon, but the sky was grey and leaden, and the gusts of wind brought the swirls of snow through the dreary streets of Bree. I wandered up one street and down the next, marveling on how large this town actually was. There were shops the likes of which I had never seen before, and it would have been easy to let my curiosity get the best of me. But no, there was a young lad to be found, and I tried to think of what would have attracted my own attention ten years or so ago. As I walked down one crowded, dirty street to the next, however, I began to realize what a hopeless task this truly was. With no-one to ask, and no inkling of what might have caught his interest, there was really no hope.
So I couldn’t have been more amazed when a grimy young hobbit lad, scarcely more than a fauntling, appeared at my elbow somehow, respectfully tugging at my sleeve. “Your pardons, good gentlehobbit,” he piped shrilly up. “This’d be for you.” And a small scrap of paper was thrust into my hand. But before I could react, or indeed ask any questions, the lad was gone, disappearing back into the crowd. I quickly glanced at the scrap of paper and found this message.
“To Misters Baggins and Gamgee,” it said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve found something of interest, and I’ll be back by tomorrow to tell you all.” There was no signature.
Of course it must have been from Bobbin, and I felt relief chase the worry away. It was mid-afternoon by this time, and I suddenly felt that there was no better place I could be than back in our room. Possibly in a tub of hot water, or perhaps just taking a quick nap in a comfortable bed; both options seemed immensely appealing. I had been cautious enough in carefully remembering my route back to the Prancing Pony, but as I headed down a narrow ramshackle street, the display in one of the shop windows suddenly caught my eye.
I doubt that many would have found it interesting, but in my particular line of work, I must admit it was the sort of thing I rarely saw. The shop appeared to specialize in various healing herbs, and the window display of neatly stacked small jars was revelatory. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a wide variety of medicinal powders and tinctures, and there was nothing for it but that I must step inside.
The shop was dim and chilled, and initially, for all I could tell, entirely devoid of life. But a small bell had tingled somewhere in the distance, as I had entered, and presently an extremely old and wrinkled hobbit drew aside a dingy curtain on the back wall, and slowly shuffled his way to the counter. “Might I be helping you with aught, my good sir?” he asked, in a voice that was nearly as much a wheeze as speech.
Quickly, my thoughts flew back to Bill, and I thought of some herbs that might do him a bit of good. Hesitantly, I mentioned them, realizing that since I had no funds with me, I would have to return at a later time to actually purchase them.
As I mentioned them, however, the elderly hobbit’s attention began to wane. I suspected that my request had been too prosaic for his tastes, but he shrugged, and pointed to a wall of drawers on the far side of the small shop. “They are all in letter order,” he mumbled, barely stifling a yawn. “Let me know if there is sommat you can’t find.”
I walked over to the neatly labeled drawers and gazed at them with unmistakable envy. What a resource to be sure, and how I wished at once, that something of the sort was to be found in Hobbiton. The herbs of which I had thought, in order to mix into a soothing poultice for Bill, were there, of course. And then a sudden inspiration struck me. Would this shop have been one of the purchasers of the shipment that had been the cause of all this stir, kingsfoil?
Eagerly, my eye traveled to the proper place in the alphabet and there, exactly where the leaf should have been, was an empty drawer. I opened it cautiously. Inside were only a few traces of dried green, but as I brought one of the remnants to my nose and smelled it, I recognized it immediately for kingsfoil. Apparently the shop had once stocked it but no longer did. A very curious omission for such an extensive inventory.
As casually as I could manage, I wandered back over to the clearly bored proprietor and asked, “Tell me, you wouldn’t happen to stock kingsfoil, would you?”
A simple question, one would think, but the effect was dramatic, to say the least. The elderly hobbit blanched, and feebly clutched the counter. “Of course not, why would we have such a thing?” he stammered, staring at me fearfully. “Who said we had that sort of weed in store here?”
“Why, no one, really,” I murmured, taken aback by his reaction. “But it does calm a fever rather nicely, and I just thought. . .”
“Well, I can tell by your speech that you are a stranger here,” he interrupted me sternly, his face clearing however. “You’d best not be mentioning that particular herb in these parts, sir. Not that you ain’t right about its way with a fever, but, well, that is all. Good day, sir!” And without another word, he disappeared into the back of the shop and I, thoughtfully, made my way back to the Prancing Pony.
&&&&&
Reedborn was pacing back and forth in front of the inn, obviously awaiting my arrival. “No news of Bobbin?” he asked quickly, his face falling when he saw that I was unaccompanied.
“Not to worry,” I reassured him at once, withdrawing the scrap of paper from my pocket. “Bobbin wrote us a message.”
But rather than reassuring Reedborn, my words seemed to have the opposite effect, and I quickly realized why. “Bobbin can’t read nor write,” Reedborn murmured as he stared at the paper, the worry on his face stark. “Who is sending that message in his name, and more to the point, who here knows your name and that of Baggins?”
I stared at him in sudden alarm. Who, indeed, I thought, and I felt my heart skip a beat with fear. “Where is Baggins?” I asked, my voice harsh with unanticipated fear.
“I left him on the street with Strider,” he reassured me hastily. “As long as he is with him, you need not worry, I assure you. It is Bobbin who concerns me now. There are some with whom I might check, and I best do it now. Just stay here, Gamgee, and I’m sure Baggins will be along before nightfall.”
But he wasn’t. The daylight gradually faded, as I watched it from the window of our room, and I could not help, as time dragged on, abusing myself with the conviction that I should have gone with him, no matter what. Nothing would change the fact, however, that I hadn’t.
I ordered dinner and sat, quite alone, in the main room of the Prancing Pony, intently watching the door and eating not a bit of it, but he did not appear. I returned to our room, and kindled the fire, and paced the room until I though I should go mad, but still he did not come. I ordered a hot bath, but did not get into it, and stared out of the window into the dark night without, and yet still he did not return. At last, quite desperate, I visited Bill in the stables. I could not go to bed until I had done so.
Chapter One may be found here: http://elderberrywine.livejournal.com/50407.html#cutid1
And Chapter Two here: http://elderberrywine.livejournal.com/50555.html#cutid1
waymeet for the ROTK quote challenge.Chapter Four currently looks to be about a week away from posting, but blimey if I can tell how many chapters this one will be in total. Our boys have gotten themselves in deep this time. :D
Title: News From Bree, Chapter Three
Author: Elderberry Wine
Pairing: Baggins/Gamgee
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 5224
Quote: Sam would not go to bed until he had visited Bill in his stable.
Summary: Another party is added to the team and Samwise still feels foolish. Part of the 221B Bag End AU.
I do not remember too much more of that evening. I do remember Baggins and Reedborn assisting me back to the room, to my utter mortification. I do remember Baggins’ polite insistence to Reedborn, when I was finally deposited on the bed, that it was a matter of the fatigue of the road, and that with a good night’s rest, I would be fit as ever on the morrow.
And then, once we were alone again, I remember his compassionate hand on my brow, his light touch with a cooling cloth on my face, and his gentleness in undressing me. I felt awful and, what was worse, a complete dunderpate, but he refused to hear my self-incriminations, and lay a quieting finger across my lips. “Not a word of it, Samwise,” he instructed me firmly. “You were, indeed, tired, hungry, and unused to such drink. Now is the time for both of us to get some rest, and I am quite sure you will feel better about it all tomorrow. Now lie quietly, dearest, and I shall be back in a moment.”
And so I lay on my side and watched him as he deftly banked the fire, snuffed out the candles, and shed his own clothing. Then I was in his arms, and I felt all care and embarrassment and misery drain from me, leaving me warm and at peace, and loving him more than ever. Sleep quickly found us both.
&&&&&
I stirred awake, cracking my eyes open in the white early morning light. I was deliciously warm, back against Frodo’s chest, with a loving arm wrapped about me, and I could hear his rhythmic breathing behind me indicating that he was yet asleep. It wasn’t until I rashly moved my head that the events of the evening before came flooding back into my memory.
The pain of that incautious move caused me to give an involuntary moan, and my companion was awake instantly. Letting me roll on my back, he propped himself up next to me, gazing at me with a simultaneously loving and amused expression. “The Prancing Pony’s own leaves its mark, I see,” he murmured.
I could not help but wince in agreement. Words were not something for which I cared to fumble at the moment.
Baggins smile deepened as lay a gentle hand on my forehead. “At least you were prudent enough to not leave a tribute at the Ranger’s feet, my dear. I was not so prudent on a certain occasion regarding the Master of Brandy Hall. I’m quite sure he still remembers it vividly, although he has been gracious enough to have never brought it up since then.”
I blinked at the confirmation of the identity of my observer, for I had not been entirely sure of whom I thought I’d seen the previous night. “He was a Ranger, then?” I found my voice, ignoring the throbbing in my head that that rash act set off.
“Apparently so, or at least according to Reedborn, and I have no doubt but that he should know. His name is Strider, I understand.”
“Did he say anything?” I had to know.
“No,” Baggins gave an affectionate smile, and brushed a wayward curl from my forehead. “But I have to admit he now unmistakably knows that we are in town. Possibly not a bad thing, actually. We shall give it some time and see what becomes of it.”
“But waiting is not a talent of mine,” his voice suddenly turned brisk and he swung his legs out of bed. “You need something in your stomach, my dear Gamgee, and that headache will soon be on its way. You may be the healer, but mine is the voice of experience; trust me on this particular matter.”
&&&&&
Baggins was entirely right, of course. Once we had dispatched a substantial combined first and second breakfast, in deference to local custom, I was beginning to feel far more like myself once again. So when Baggins proposed a walking tour of Bree, to acquaint ourselves with this interesting locale, I had no objections.
Snow was holding off for the moment, as we set to the streets, but clearly not for long. The air was frigid, and the occasional blast of air from the north would whip our cloaks smartly about us. Once again, the patches of ice on the gutted surface of the slushy streets demanded one’s full attention, if one proceeded by foot, and it was difficult to gaze much about us. But I did notice that the varied array of residents of Bree seemed to keep their affairs to themselves. There was little of the camaraderie or cheerful greeting that one would find on the streets of any village in the Shire. It was difficult to determine if it was simply the nature of the folk hereabouts, or if the town contained a sizeable contingent of strangers such as ourselves.
I quietly mentioned as much to Baggins, as we strode closely together down one street after another, and he gave a nod of agreement. “I thought there might be a hobbit or two who would stop by our table at the inn, last night, to greet or at least pose a question or two of us, but there were none so inclined. A tight-lipped lot, to be sure, and quite possibly for very good reasons. Isn’t it odd, Gamgee, how the far side of Bree is so very less fortified than the side facing the Road?” he changed the subject abruptly and stopped near a sheltering wall to draw his pipe from his pocket. “Apparently, they have little fear of danger from the north. Another indication that the Rangers are to be considered quite efficient, I would surmise.”
The pipe was tempting, but I did not feel sufficiently courageous to attempt it just yet, so I shoved my hands in my pockets and nodded agreement. “It is rather difficult to credit Rangers being as dangerous a folk as some in the Shire would have one believe if they sit peaceably about in crowded taverns of an evening,” I mentioned, stamping my feet slightly to keep them warm.
Baggins gave a chuckle of concurrence. “Succinct as ever, Gamgee, my dear,” he murmured. “Well, let us just continue out a bit more, and then head back. Perhaps Reedborn may be able to direct our steps in a more productive manner this afternoon.”
We continued down the streets, which were gradually turning into muddy lanes. It wasn’t too long before I quietly mentioned to Baggins that it had been quite awhile since I had noticed a smial.
Baggins nodded, and murmured, “I observed the same myself. Perhaps it would be prudent to retrace our steps back to the inn.”
We had, at this point, ranged far from the town of Bree proper, and into what appeared to be meager farms which clearly, from the size of the shabby dwellings, belonged to men. Already, I had perceived that we were on the receiving end of some distinctly unfriendly stares, and had begun to realize that there were some generally understood conventions in Bree, and that we had run afoul of them. Baggins, far better than myself at hiding any discomfort at the situation in which we had found ourselves, gave a cool glance about, and with a nod and private smile, as if he had found what he had intended to find, turned about and began to walk briskly back in the direction in which we had come.
With a certain amount of alarm, I noticed that there were more observers now, as we re-traced our steps, than had originally been out in the cold morning. Some of the men were leaning against their weathered wooden fences and smoking pipes of their own as we passed, an unlikely pastime on such a frigid morning, and the expressions on their faces left no doubt that we were the center of their unfriendly attention. It was as we passed one particularly ill-favored specimen, his face apparently twisted in a permanent sneer, that I noticed the unfortunate pony and gave an involuntary exclamation of dismay.
The bony grey mill-pony, his head bowed in obvious misery, was tethered to the central stump in the center in a ring of well-trodden snow. Some bits of vegetation were still to be seen under the dusting of snow, but they were out of reach of the unfortunate beast. And yet he kept straining toward them, clearly desperate for food.
“Well, now, Ferny,” came the scornful drawl as the neighbor of the pony’s owner, apparently looking for a bit of amusement, crossed the lane to join him. “Looks like these wee little men don’t care too much for the way you treat your own property.”
Ferny gave a grunt at that comment. “I’m not seeing where they’ve aught to say about it,” he growled, with an ominous move in our direction. “Unless they’re looking t’take this sorry beast off of my hands, they best be on their way and right quickly, at that.”
I’m not quite sure why the pony’s unfortunate fate hit me quite so hard, but I do know that I never gave a second thought to the matter before the words blurted out of my mouth. “Perhaps that is exactly what we are looking to do,” I responded angrily. “What is your price, sir?”
Both men immediately guffawed at my response, and the first nudged Ferny in the ribs. “Well, there you go! And wasn’t you just a-sayin’ as you were on the look-out for a new pony, since this one was a worthless sorry nag? But these fine judges of pony-flesh seem to think different, now, don’t they?”
Ferny gave another grunt, seemingly his preferred means of communication. “Very well then, my little man,” he finally removed his pipe long enough from his mouth to answer. “If you’ve the price, the beast is all yours,” and he named an amount that was clearly exorbitant.
But I was of no mind to negotiate and the fellow was, I don’t mind admitting, enraging me. I nodded shortly, and pulled my purse from my pocket, counting out all that it contained. It was slightly less than what the farmer had asked, but without a word, Baggins, who had been witnessing this exchange attentively, withdrew the balance from his own pocket and added it to mine. Upon receipt of the purse, both men burst into gales of raucous laughter, and Ferny picked up a rusty axe that was leaning next to the stump, bringing it down on the rope. Handing the frayed end to me with mock politesse, he bowed in derision. “Any time you fine gentlemen wish to do more business with me, you come right on by. I’ve a few chickens in the shed as are doing poorly, if you’re in the market for something smaller.”
I furiously snatched up the rope, and started back down the road without a look back, Baggins at my side.
&&&&&
By the time we were out of sight of that wretched farm and its miserable inhabitants, we were re-entering the outskirts of Bree, and Baggins, still silent, pulled me into the first side street where he gave me a resounding kiss, to the astonishment of the few passers-by. “Well done, Gamgee, my dear, really, quite well done! Now let us examine this unfortunate beast.” The pony, head still down and his breathing labored, stood in silence and gave us not a glance. “Hmm,” Baggins frowned, as he laid a gentle hand on the pony’s ribcage and listened to the poor creature’s breathing. “I must tell you, my dear, this pony is in rather a bad way. Still, one never knows.” With that, he drew an apple out of his pocket and handed it over to me. “I pocketed this at breakfast, in case you were feeling a bit peckish later, but this unlucky animal clearly needs it more. But he is yours, now, Sam, so you should give it to him.” And he tossed it lightly over to me.
Not quite knowing what else to do, I stroked the pony’s matted head and held the apple out to him. “Here you go, m’dear,” I murmured, not quite sure if the animal would take it. “Don’t you worry now, Bill, dearie, you’ve seen the last of that villain.”
The pony stood silent for a moment, but his nostrils flared, and then before I knew it, he had cautiously snatched the apple from my outstretched hand, and was munching greedily on it. It was gone in no time, but Bill gave a snort of satisfaction as he finished it, and then for the first time, his eyes met mine.
“Ah,” Baggins said at my side with quiet approval, “he may turn out all right after all. Bill, is he?”
I reddened slightly, but continued to stroke the beast. “Just seemed the proper name, somehow,” I said, slightly gruffly.
“Quite right. Well, it’s time we take him back to the inn then. We should be able to stable him along with Barrel and Bottle, and with luck, fatten him up in time to take him back to the Shire with us.”
As we started back to the inn, though, a sudden thought struck me. “Frodo!” I could not help but blurt out, turning to him stricken. “That was most of our traveling funds that I handed over to that scoundrel! I just never thought, my dear!”
Baggins chuckled and wrapped an arm tightly about my shoulders. “Of course you didn’t, Samwise, which is precisely why I love you so. I’ll see if Reedborn does not know of somewhere we can get a small loan, should we need it. He has been here on business often enough. Don’t fret, my dearest Gamgee. I’m sure Bill will turn out to be worth far more than we ever paid for him.”
And little did either of us realize at the time how prophetic those words were to be.
&&&&&&
We found Reedborn impatiently awaiting us when we reached the Prancing Pony, a short while later. “Where is Bobbin?” he asked with dismay, his face falling, as he greeted us in the entryway. “Is he not with you?”
“Not at all,” Baggins swiftly answered. “Have you not seen him today?”
“No, not since breakfast,” Reedborn replied, with obvious dismay. “This is not the sort of place for a young lad to be alone in, and I don’t mind tellin’ you that I’m that worried. But that ain’t all. Let’s head to your room, and I don’t mind who sees us.”
“Just a moment,” Baggins held up a cautionary hand. “We now have another member of our party to be accounted for. Gamgee has acquired a pony.”
Reedborn directed a startled glance in my direction. “Well, yes, it was rather unexpected,” I muttered. “Don’t worry, I’ll see to Bill and join you both in a bit.”
Baggins clasped my shoulder tightly, for a moment, and then headed down the long hallway with Reedborn, as I looked anxiously about for Ned. Barleyman’s assistant soon appeared, trotting in from what I assumed were the kitchens, as he had a steaming platter in one hand and a kettle in the other. “Master Gamgee,” he gave me a friendly bow, pausing for a moment in the process of discharging his duties.
“Ehrm, yes, actually I was looking for you,” I began, hesitantly. “I’ve a lad, outside, holding on to a pony for me, and I was wondering if he could join Reedborn’s pair for a bit, while we stay here. And he’d be needing something to eat, whatever it is that ponies eat, fairly quickly, for he’s on the thin side, you see.”
Ned’s face justifiably registered confusion at this rambling response, but he gave a affable nod, and promptly collaring an assistant, sent him off with the platter and kettle, and followed me outdoors.
There was no question but that his face fell when he saw Bill. “Ah, the poor creature,” he muttered, and turned to me with a definite trace of anger in his face. “ ‘Twas no hobbit you got this pony from,” he stated flatly, and I saw no point in dissembling.
“Indeed not,” I agreed quickly. “But I must confess to not knowing much about ponies, and so don’t really know what to ask for, in order to help the poor animal out. Whatever food that would be the most nutritious, I should think, and of course a warm place to stay. Our friend, Reedborn, has a couple of ponies here as well, and it would be desirable if Bill could be placed near to them.”
“Yes, that could be arranged,” Ned assured me, his jaw set with determination. “I’ve a bit of dried summer hay still set aside, and some oats and carrots would go a long way to helping restore him to health. Follow me, Mr. Gamgee, and let’s just see if we can’t make the unfortunate creature comfortable.”
Heartened, I followed Ned to the stables.
&&&&&
The stables were set back at the end of a side street from the inn itself, and consisted of a square courtyard set about with several large sheds and an enormous high-raftered barn. It was into the latter that I followed Ned, rope and pony in hand. There were a couple of men and several hobbits inside who all gave startled looks at Bill as he followed me inside. “Hoy, there, Nob,” Ned called out, and an elderly hobbit immediately answered.
“One of our guests, Mr. Gamgee here, has just acquired a new pony,” he told Nob, with emphasis on the recent timing portion of that statement. “And as you can see, he wants some extra attention. I’d appreciate it if you would see what can be done for, was it Bill?” he turned questioningly back to me.
I nodded, appreciating his explanation, and heard one of the men behind me say softly to the hobbit standing next to him, “I’ll warrant I know where he came from, too. ‘Tis a good thing if that bit of vermin has one less pony to abuse, although I doubt it’ll be for long, more’s the pity.”
Ned gave me a slight bow then and added, “If there’s naught else, Mr. Gamgee, I’ll be off then.” He started out the doorway of the barn, and then stopped and motioned me to him. “There’ll be no charge for Bill,” he said softly, as I joined him, his dark eyes studying me carefully. “I’ll see to that. ‘Twas a real kindness as you did, Mr. Gamgee, and I’m sure it cost you plenty.” And he was gone before I could properly thank him.
It was only as I followed Nob, still leading Bill behind me, that I had an opportunity to look around at the building itself. The barn was huge, the beams high overhead, stockpiled with great bales of dried hay and straw. There were stalls for ponies and even the occasional larger version of animal that I knew to be a horse, although I’d never actually seen one before. There were a number of cows in larger stalls to one side, presumably to provide milk for the inn’s guests, and I could hear an occasional squeal and a cackle or two in the background, which assured me that there were other animals tucked away here as well. Great lanterns, securely fastened high on the thick wooden posts, cast a warm golden gleam inside, and one could not have told whether it was day or night without.
With the hay acting as a sort of insulation, not to mention the warmth of all the barn’s inhabitants, it was comfortably warm inside the barn, and indeed, the hobbits and men who worked inside were obviously comfortable in rolled shirt sleeves, and no jacket necessary. Nob had led me, as I had been staring about, to a larger stall over on the side of the barn where Barrel and Bottle were housed comfortably together, peacefully munching on some hay in a low rack. “Let’s just see how they get on, first,” Nob muttered, taking the rope from me and leading Bill into the stall as well.
The two black ponies stopped eating at the entrance of the newcomer, and walked over to him, sniffing him and bumping him gently with their noses as Bill stood there, head down and trembling slightly, although from hunger or fright, I could not tell. Apparently, though, the newcomer was found to be acceptable, since they then returned to their feed and, moving slightly to the side, allowed Bill to join them.
“Ah, look now,” Nob exclaimed with pleasure. “They took right to him, they did. Well, then, I’ll find some special treats for him, and t’other two will be havin’ the benefit of them likewise. You can go now, Mr. Gamgee, Bill here will be on his feet in no time.”
As much as I was eager to rejoin Baggins and Reedborn though, I lingered another moment as Nob left on his mission. “I’ll be back later, Bill me dear, to see how you’re getting on. Don’t you worry none, me lad,” I whispered into his ear, stoking his head affectionately. “The hard times are past you now.”
&&&&&
I met Baggins and Reedborn walking quickly up the street from the inn, as I made my way from the stables. As soon as they saw me, Reedborn paused, and allowed Baggins to catch up with me. “Bill squared away nicely?” he asked, grasping my shoulder with an affectionate grip.
I nodded, and then his face clouded over slightly. “It seems as if this Ranger has requested to see me alone, or with only Reedborn, I should say. I’m afraid I shall have to point out to him that I keep no secrets from you, and that he either gets the both of us or neither.”
I regret to say I felt foolish all over again, though I desperately tried to keep it out of my voice. “No, really, Baggins, that’s perfectly all right. I shouldn’t mind a bit of a rest.”
But Baggins’ return glance looked right through my feeble subterfuge. “As I mentioned, Gamgee,” he stated quietly but firmly, “he will take us on as a pair or not at all. He will quickly learn how invaluable you are. However, in the meanwhile, perhaps you wouldn’t mind having a look for Bobbin? Apparently he went out, to have a look about this morning, and Reedborn hasn’t seen him since. I don’t mind admitting that his absence worries me.”
“Indeed, that is a matter for concern,” I agreed instantly, immediately forgetting my petty hurts. “I will do so, indeed. When do you expect to be back?”
“Before dinner, if not earlier. Meet me in our room.” He withdrew his hand and gave me a rueful smile. “I promise you, my dear, this Ranger will know your worth soon enough,” he spoke softly. “I certainly do. Take care, Samwise. This is not a tranquil town, no, not by any means, and it would be well to keep our wits about us.”
&&&&&
By the time I set off to look about for the fourth member of our party, it had begun to snow again. It was not much after noon, but the sky was grey and leaden, and the gusts of wind brought the swirls of snow through the dreary streets of Bree. I wandered up one street and down the next, marveling on how large this town actually was. There were shops the likes of which I had never seen before, and it would have been easy to let my curiosity get the best of me. But no, there was a young lad to be found, and I tried to think of what would have attracted my own attention ten years or so ago. As I walked down one crowded, dirty street to the next, however, I began to realize what a hopeless task this truly was. With no-one to ask, and no inkling of what might have caught his interest, there was really no hope.
So I couldn’t have been more amazed when a grimy young hobbit lad, scarcely more than a fauntling, appeared at my elbow somehow, respectfully tugging at my sleeve. “Your pardons, good gentlehobbit,” he piped shrilly up. “This’d be for you.” And a small scrap of paper was thrust into my hand. But before I could react, or indeed ask any questions, the lad was gone, disappearing back into the crowd. I quickly glanced at the scrap of paper and found this message.
“To Misters Baggins and Gamgee,” it said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve found something of interest, and I’ll be back by tomorrow to tell you all.” There was no signature.
Of course it must have been from Bobbin, and I felt relief chase the worry away. It was mid-afternoon by this time, and I suddenly felt that there was no better place I could be than back in our room. Possibly in a tub of hot water, or perhaps just taking a quick nap in a comfortable bed; both options seemed immensely appealing. I had been cautious enough in carefully remembering my route back to the Prancing Pony, but as I headed down a narrow ramshackle street, the display in one of the shop windows suddenly caught my eye.
I doubt that many would have found it interesting, but in my particular line of work, I must admit it was the sort of thing I rarely saw. The shop appeared to specialize in various healing herbs, and the window display of neatly stacked small jars was revelatory. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a wide variety of medicinal powders and tinctures, and there was nothing for it but that I must step inside.
The shop was dim and chilled, and initially, for all I could tell, entirely devoid of life. But a small bell had tingled somewhere in the distance, as I had entered, and presently an extremely old and wrinkled hobbit drew aside a dingy curtain on the back wall, and slowly shuffled his way to the counter. “Might I be helping you with aught, my good sir?” he asked, in a voice that was nearly as much a wheeze as speech.
Quickly, my thoughts flew back to Bill, and I thought of some herbs that might do him a bit of good. Hesitantly, I mentioned them, realizing that since I had no funds with me, I would have to return at a later time to actually purchase them.
As I mentioned them, however, the elderly hobbit’s attention began to wane. I suspected that my request had been too prosaic for his tastes, but he shrugged, and pointed to a wall of drawers on the far side of the small shop. “They are all in letter order,” he mumbled, barely stifling a yawn. “Let me know if there is sommat you can’t find.”
I walked over to the neatly labeled drawers and gazed at them with unmistakable envy. What a resource to be sure, and how I wished at once, that something of the sort was to be found in Hobbiton. The herbs of which I had thought, in order to mix into a soothing poultice for Bill, were there, of course. And then a sudden inspiration struck me. Would this shop have been one of the purchasers of the shipment that had been the cause of all this stir, kingsfoil?
Eagerly, my eye traveled to the proper place in the alphabet and there, exactly where the leaf should have been, was an empty drawer. I opened it cautiously. Inside were only a few traces of dried green, but as I brought one of the remnants to my nose and smelled it, I recognized it immediately for kingsfoil. Apparently the shop had once stocked it but no longer did. A very curious omission for such an extensive inventory.
As casually as I could manage, I wandered back over to the clearly bored proprietor and asked, “Tell me, you wouldn’t happen to stock kingsfoil, would you?”
A simple question, one would think, but the effect was dramatic, to say the least. The elderly hobbit blanched, and feebly clutched the counter. “Of course not, why would we have such a thing?” he stammered, staring at me fearfully. “Who said we had that sort of weed in store here?”
“Why, no one, really,” I murmured, taken aback by his reaction. “But it does calm a fever rather nicely, and I just thought. . .”
“Well, I can tell by your speech that you are a stranger here,” he interrupted me sternly, his face clearing however. “You’d best not be mentioning that particular herb in these parts, sir. Not that you ain’t right about its way with a fever, but, well, that is all. Good day, sir!” And without another word, he disappeared into the back of the shop and I, thoughtfully, made my way back to the Prancing Pony.
&&&&&
Reedborn was pacing back and forth in front of the inn, obviously awaiting my arrival. “No news of Bobbin?” he asked quickly, his face falling when he saw that I was unaccompanied.
“Not to worry,” I reassured him at once, withdrawing the scrap of paper from my pocket. “Bobbin wrote us a message.”
But rather than reassuring Reedborn, my words seemed to have the opposite effect, and I quickly realized why. “Bobbin can’t read nor write,” Reedborn murmured as he stared at the paper, the worry on his face stark. “Who is sending that message in his name, and more to the point, who here knows your name and that of Baggins?”
I stared at him in sudden alarm. Who, indeed, I thought, and I felt my heart skip a beat with fear. “Where is Baggins?” I asked, my voice harsh with unanticipated fear.
“I left him on the street with Strider,” he reassured me hastily. “As long as he is with him, you need not worry, I assure you. It is Bobbin who concerns me now. There are some with whom I might check, and I best do it now. Just stay here, Gamgee, and I’m sure Baggins will be along before nightfall.”
But he wasn’t. The daylight gradually faded, as I watched it from the window of our room, and I could not help, as time dragged on, abusing myself with the conviction that I should have gone with him, no matter what. Nothing would change the fact, however, that I hadn’t.
I ordered dinner and sat, quite alone, in the main room of the Prancing Pony, intently watching the door and eating not a bit of it, but he did not appear. I returned to our room, and kindled the fire, and paced the room until I though I should go mad, but still he did not come. I ordered a hot bath, but did not get into it, and stared out of the window into the dark night without, and yet still he did not return. At last, quite desperate, I visited Bill in the stables. I could not go to bed until I had done so.
Chapter One may be found here: http://elderberrywine.livejournal.com/50407.html#cutid1
And Chapter Two here: http://elderberrywine.livejournal.com/50555.html#cutid1
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I am trying my level best to keep the chapters coming in a relatively timely manner (otherwise it's the who with the what and the why now? issue) but I'm definitely not sure of all the twists this one is going to take, even yet. But thanks so much for your vote of confidence!
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I wondered about that note about Bobbin being given to Sam. Now dear Samwise is worried about Bobbin, and the also missing Frodo. Where could they be?
But that was sweet of Sam to rescue Bill. Oh, and what was up with the hobbit herbalist?
On to chapter 4!
Thank you dear Elderberry
*hugs*