AN:
Hi, folks! How goes it? I'm neck deep in school right now, but I was waiting patiently (read: counting down the days) until the DVD release of Desolation of Smaug and reading The Fellowship of the Ring when I realized that I really wanted more of dwarves in the Shire.
And then I remembered the scouring of the Shire and I realized that I could make that work, haha. So, here's my contribution to, "the dwarves coming to help the Hobbits sort out the shit storm Saruman caused". It features some of the dwarrows from Bilbo's company.
I really enjoyed writing it and I tried to keep the dialogue sound similar to how the characters sound in the books. I tried, guys.
And I didn't really go in depth into Saruman's presence in the Shire, but it is there and it a factor.
I hope you enjoy it, guys! It's a mix of movie and book verse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am broke. I am making nothing off of this. Unless you're going to buy my student debt, I suggest you not bother.
'From one war into another,' Frodo Baggins thought as he stood in the broken down Shiriff's hut. He and his friends had gone through war and death only to come home, expecting to be victorious and looking forward to a life of peace, only to learn that their people had been enslaved by that vile Saruman.
'A right piece of work, that one is,' Merry had said grimly before riding off to Buckland to muster reinforcements for their move to take back Hobbiton and oust Saruman from Bag End. 'Old Gandalf gave him a real set-to though.'
'I wish Gandalf were here. He and Aragorn and all of our friends,' Pippin agreed.
'We all do, Pippin, but I expect we Hobbits will be fighting this battle on our own,' Frodo had told them. He remembered smiling while inside, he could have wept as his chest grew tight. 'At least we have each other.'
That was proving to be a hollow comfort. He could see the Hill and Bagshot Row, and his hand went to where Sting sat perched on his belt. They'd managed to secure Hobbiton and the poorer Hobbits had been given shelter behind their barricade. The Hobbits who'd sided with Saruman had been locked up and given a sound tongue lashing from their fellows, and everyone had been counted except Lotho and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.
According to Ted Sandyman, who'd been put under extreme… shall we say, duress by one very upset Sam Gamgee, admitted to Frodo that Lotho and Lobelia were prisoners inside Bag End. Frodo expected there was something absurdly ironic about the whole situation, but he didn't have the time to dwell on it.
"Mr. Frodo? It's time, sir.", Sam said quietly, standing beside Frodo while behind them, their fellow Hobbits prepared for war.
"Sam, I want you to stay here. Stay with Rosie and her family.", Frodo told him, fully expecting a fight. The set of Sam's jaw told him that he'd be getting one.
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I won't.", Sam replied firmly. "I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. I intend to keep it."
"Sam…" Frodo glanced behind them to where the Cotton family was sitting or standing, preparing medicine and bandages for the inevitable injuries. Rosie was in a flurry of activity, bustling her brothers and sisters this way and then that when they got in her way, and Sam turned to look at her with a bright smile. Frodo suspected he had no idea he was even doing it, and he was sorry to have to speak and break up the moment. "Sam, you've made a different kind of promise. I would absolutely hate to tell Rosie you'll have to leave it unfulfilled."
"Rosie and I have spoken about it, together, Mr. Frodo. I confess, sir, I was very hesitant to leave. As you yourself have said, sir, I did make a promise.", Sam admitted, looking down to his shoes as he shuffled his feet. He looked back up at Frodo. "I told Rosie I would stay here with her and her family, and mine besides, and do you know what she said?
'Don't you be ridiculous. Sam Gamgee,' she says. 'I don't know what you have been up to while you were away, but I do know you, and what's more, I think I have a good idea of your Mr. Frodo. He's going to be out there fighting and if that hand is anything to judge by, he'll need someone there to make sure he comes back from the fighting. He needs you with him, Sam, and I couldn't bear to think of what you'd do if you weren't there and something did happen.'
'But what about you?,' says I, and she just told me to let her worry about her, and let us worry about us putting the Shire back to rights."
For the fear in his chest, Frodo couldn't help but laugh. He put a hand on Sam's shoulder and said, "Then your Rosie is wise beyond her years, and I owe her a great debt. She is right; I worry I may not be up to snuff with this fighting business and I … I would not have got far without you, Sam. Having you with me would be a great peace of mind."
"Then that's where I'll be, sir. You've my word on that."
"I don't need it, Sam, but I'm glad to hear it all the same."
The door to the hut opened and Pippin entered the crowded room. Behind him, Hobbits stood with mathoms and farm tools in hand, and Frodo felt his scar begin to itch under his mithril shirt. What he wouldn't give for an armoury of mithril shirts, one for every Hobbit! The thought of these people – people he'd once thought slow and boring, still did in a few cases. – getting injured in a war they had no business in made his heart hurt in a way that was worse than anything the Witch King could have done.
"It's time, I've brought as many as we could arm," Pippin told them. His armour clanked softly as he walked, the white tree of Gondor a source of awe from the younger Hobbits who were staying away from the fighting. Frodo didn't think there was a guardian of the Citadel in Gondor's history who stood taller than Pippin did just then.
"Then we'd best get a move on. We've got rid of or captured most of them but we don't want the ones he has up in Bag End to get too much of a warning," Frodo considered. "Have you heard from Merry? Will he make it in time?"
Pippin shook his head, worry splashing over his face. "No, I have not. The last message I had from him was when he rode off a week ago to Buckland. I'm sure he'll be here though, probably has too large a host for them to move quickly! You know those Bucklanders; strange folk, but you want one in your corner for a fight."
Frodo didn't know if he wanted to laugh or fret so he settled for a strained smile as he and Sam made their way out of the hut. Most of the numbers they'd hoped for were coming from Buckland; without them, they were barely at half strength.
Farmer Maggot and his dogs walked over to Frodo, Sam and Pippin while Mrs. Maggot walked into the hut to help organize the relief efforts. When the door shut, Farmer Maggot looked at the gathered Hobbits with a closed off look. He said quietly to Frodo as they walked,
"Not half as many as I'd hoped, and I don't see anyone I know from Buckland."
Frodo nodded while Sam stayed close to his side, a dog sniffing at his pockets as they walked. "I know. We haven't heard word from Merry yet, he went to Buckland a week ago.", Frodo answered. He was terrified as an awful thought hit him. "You don't think they got him, do you? You don't think they caught him before he even got to Buckland?"
"No I do not, and I'd advise you not to either.", Farmer Maggot said firmly. "I'd like to see the creature that could keep Mr. Merry from getting to where he wanted to go. He got home alright, but I'll wager that there's something else delaying him. I've heard strange talk from the latest refugees from the South Farthing."
"I think I've had enough of strange talk from foreign parts to last me a last time.", Pippin stated and Sam made a loud sound of agreement. Frodo and Farmer Maggot smiled at them.
"As have I, but you'd best tell us what this strange talk was so we may judge it for ourselves.", Frodo agreed.
"It's not much but they say that five of the Shiriff's stations from here to Sarn Ford have been torn to pieces. All the Orcs and wicked men down in that stretch have been killed or tied up and waiting to be found among the debris."
"That's not Hobbit-like at all," Frodo said in concern, exchanging worried looks with Sam. He wasn't sure why but he was certain they were both remembering the disagreements between the Orcs in the towers of Barad-Dur. Had another group made their way into the Shire?
"You said they were tied up or killed? What's the difference?" Pippin asked.
"The Orcs were killed, none of them were left alive or so I'm told. The men, the ones who were there just for profit and who hadn't actually hurt any of the Hobbits in the area, were tied up in groups of four and left to wait. The ones who had hurt Hobbits were either tied up in trees or killed, depending on what they'd done.", Farmer Maggot explained. "It seems to me that we have some unexpected help coming our way."
"We could indeed.", Frodo mused. "Did the Hobbits you spoke to say anything about these most welcome visitors?"
"Just that they were nearly the same heights as Hobbits and some of their party spoke kindly enough that they thought they were friends. What struck me as odd were the weapons they told me of," the farmer explained. "Axes. Battle axes, to be precise, though I'm not sure how precise any of those lot can be, seeing as most of them have never held anything heavier than a butter knife."
"Battle axes, you say?" Sam asked. He had an excited smile on his face, the first Frodo had seen since they'd come home to find their home torn apart. "Mr. Frodo, do you think it's the dwarves?"
"Why would dwarves come to the Shire to help us? Elves, maybe, but their time here is over. Unless they were Gimli's family, I can't see it, Sam," Pippin denied and Sam shook his head firmly.
"No, sir, you misunderstand me. What if they're Mr. Bilbo's dwarves? The ones he went adventuring with. Gimli's father, Gloin, I think, was one of them, and he was at the council of Rivendell. Do you suppose Gimli's heard of this happening and got his lot to come and give us a hand, so to speak?"
Hope flared to life in Frodo's chest for a moment, thinking that perhaps, it would be another instance of the past coming to bear in the future, but he had to force himself to remain calm. It would do no good to go off expecting aid only to have it been a false rumour, after all. He would not let his people be more hurt by this than necessary.
"It's possible, Sam, but I shouldn't count on it. Most of the dwarves Uncle traveled with are dead now, and those who survived are most likely far, far away from here. But, it does give me some hope that we have not been forgotten so quickly," Frodo allowed. He put a hand on the hilt of Sting and said, "In either case, we'll do what we can."
"Right you are, Mr. Frodo. Let's get a move on, one and all. If it's a battle they're wanting, I say we go ahead and give it to them," Sam said loudly, drawing a rousing cheer from the Hobbits around them. He looked at Frodo, who was watching with a fond smile, and Sam shrugged with a grin. "Can't be worse than those Black Riders, Mr. Frodo. I say we put the boots to them and see what comes of it."
"You're right, Sam. We'll see what comes of all of this. I'm ready when you are," Frodo replied in confidence. Sam nodded and gave the order for them to move out, staying close to Frodo while he, Pippin and Farmer Maggot commanded the troops. Frodo stayed largely out of it, hoping in some small part of his heart that Aragorn and Gandalf would come riding down the laneway with Gimli, Legolas and a host of Elves led by Lady Arwen.
What he wouldn't give to know that they were fighting this battle with friends.
When they arrived at Bag End, the lights were out and dead bodies of Orcs and men, stuck thick with arrows and wounds, littered the lawn. Sam's eyes grew hard as he viewed the damage and Frodo felt wounded as he looked around.
Without a word, Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Farmer Maggot snuck to the front door, which lay tilted on one hinge with the door cracked and broken from the previous assaults. Behind them, Frodo could hear the archers and their cavalry following close behind, in case things came to blows.
Frodo angled his head so he could see in the door, but all he saw was black. He looked back at the others and whispered, "I'll go in first."
This, as anticipated, raised a protest from all parties involved, the loudest being Sam's response of, 'Not as long as I'm standing here you won't, !'
"This is something I must do. I must – no, Sam, just listen, please. I must do this alone," Frodo explained quietly, speaking over Sam's protest. "I feel as though I caused all of this misery by bringing this war to our very homes and doorsteps, and I must be the one to end it. You can't carry this burden for me, Sam, I won't let you."
"Then let me go with you," Sam pleaded.
"Let all of us go with you. The four of us will have this done in a jiffy," Maggot agreed.
"No, don't you understand? I love you all, I do, but this – I couldn't bear it if…"
Frodo choked on the words before he could say them, and he ducked his head to hide how truly frightened he was. He heard a quiet sigh from before him and felt an arm go around his shoulders. He looked up to see Pippin smiling tiredly at him.
"Since Merry hasn't graced us with his presence yet, I must do the hard work this time around. Cousin Frodo, you're doing that thing again, where you try to be noble and protect us. I'm sorry, dearest cousin, but I think I speak for all of us when I say we will not have it," Pippin told him quiet firmly, with no room for argument.
"But-,"
"But nothing, Frodo. We are in this together, through thick and thin, and after everything we've gone through, if you think we'll let you walk into danger alone just because you want to protect us then I'm sorry, but one of us is going to be very disappointed and I'm reasonably sure that that one person is you," Pippin told him. "We're going with you, Frodo. Merry and I couldn't face Mordor with you and Sam, but you can be certain that we'll be here for this."
For once, Frodo couldn't find the words or the strength to fight, and he wasn't at all ashamed of it. He nodded. "Then let's begin."
He drew Sting and the four of them walked into Bag End. Sting remained lifeless in his hand, which eased a weight off of his chest. There were no Orcs of goblins nearby, they were probably all dead.
'Some good news at last,' he thought as they walked to the back dining room. As they approached, they saw a single candle had been lit on the table, and the light of that tiny flame cast shadows over a thin, gaunt face made up of pale skin, bushy, snow white eyebrows, and black eyes that seemed to be hollow.
Saruman was watching them, his expression unchanging as they filled the doorway.
Lobelia was tied to a chair, a dirty cloth used to keep her silent as she struggled feebly against the ropes. It was the first time Frodo Baggins had ever pitied anyone with the last name Sackville-Baggins.
In the corner by Saruman was perched a small figure, curled in on himself, and Frodo felt Pippin tense beside him. Through clenched teeth, he heard his cousin gasp, "Wormtongue. So he is here."
Frodo heard the resentment in his voice and wondered at it, remembering then that Wormtongue had been obsessed with Lady Eowyn, a very dear friend to Merry, Shieldmaiden of Rohan and sister of King Eomer, and who had married Faramir, Steward of Gondor and brother of Boromir, who had become a good friend of Pippin during his time in the city.
"We both are. And you are too. Isn't this delightful?" Frodo shivered at the voice of Saruman, feeling the prying fingers of the fading magic in his words. Frodo knew that soon, he would have nothing; his magic had been taken from him.
Joining with Sauron had not been what had done him in; Running afoul of Gandalf had been the check, but being an enemy of Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien had been the final stroke.
"So, you're the one who's caused all this trouble," Farmer Maggot commented. The farmer looked wary but resolute, as though he knew the wizard was doing something to affect him but he couldn't quite work out what.
"I did, to my eternal shame. You must forgive me, my employees have done so much hurt, things have gone so much worse than I'd intended," Saruman tried again, and Frodo wished he had Gandalf by his side, if only to shut the man up.
"We must do nothing, but insist that you come with us quietly. Your time is over, Saruman. The Shire will know peace again," Frodo told him bluntly, and when Saruman looked at him, he felt the full force of the gaze like a weight against his lungs. He pushed it off, keeping his head clear, and Saruman watched him.
"So it is you, Ringbearer. I'd wondered if I would see you here. I know now why Gandalf always stayed here, with you and your Uncle Bilbo. Your home is quiet lovely.", Saruman said.
"You have destroyed my home, but we will fix it again after you leave.", Frodo replied.
"I don't understand. Gandalf stayed here as a visitor many times, indeed as a friend to my understanding. We are both of the Istari, why should we both not be welcome in your home?", Saruman questioned.
"Mister Gandalf wouldn't have ever done anything like what you've done.", Sam said darkly. "Oh, if he were here now, you'd not be so quick to speak Mister Bilbo's name!"
"My uncle didn't welcome him because he was among the Wise and Powerful, or because he was one of the Istari. He welcomed Gandalf because he was a friend, which you are not. Now, you may either leave and trouble us no longer, or we will deal with you in whatever way seems best to us. I give this choice to you, and advise you to think carefully before deciding," Frodo ordered.
"I have never heard of a Halfling being so discourteous. Gandalf has obviously been keeping secrets again.", Saruman said with a nod. "Though, you would know more about that than I, surely, seeing as his secrets are what brought the Ring to your care in the first place."
"Would you have preferred he'd brought it to you?" Pippin asked harshly, anger colouring his cheeks.
"Of course I would have, you little fool.", Saruman hissed, the genial calmness washing away as his body went rigid with tension. "That Ring should have been mine long ago, it had no place being in this hovel for all those years."
"I've heard quite enough out of you, sir," Maggot said loudly. "You're coming with us now, you and your man over there. We'll get Missus Lobelia untied and get her some help, and then we'll deal with you."
"Very well, I'll come along quietly," Saruman said, standing up. His white robes had been turned almost grey from dirt and lack of washing, but he walked around the table to where they stood. He turned to Frodo and said, "Oh, I should warn you, don't go in the back storage shed. It's rather messy."
"Why?" Frodo asked cautiously. Beside him, he heard Lobelia begin screaming against her gag and he tensed. Saruman looked at them, a terrible glee in his eyes.
"Oh, no reason. I've heard you weren't particularly fond of your cousin, Louco, was it?", Saruman asked.
Frodo blanched. "What have you done to Lotho?", he asked, his voice shaking.
"You'd best ask Wormtongue that. You are what you eat, after all, isn't that right, Wormy?", Saruman asked, being yanked out of Bag End. Frodo followed them in a daze while Sam worked the gag off of Lobelia and Pippin saw to Wormtongue, binding his hands and helping him to his feet.
Frodo would never forget Lobelia's hoarse screams of, 'He ate him! He ate my son! My Lotho, he ate my son!' until the end of his days.
As he walked behind Farmer Maggot and Saruman, Frodo felt like he was walking in a fog until he heard a shout from ahead of him. A silver knife – one of Bilbo's, if Frodo remember rightly – sliced deep into the skin of Farmer Maggot's face, sending the farmer into a howl of rage as he used one hand to try to keep a hold on Saruman and the other to find some way to stop the bleeding.
Saruman kicked his feet out from under him and when Farmer Maggot fell, Saruman rounded on Frodo.
All he could see was the knife glistening with blood as Saruman paced towards him. He hurried to back away when two arms came up behind Frodo and secured him, and he felt hot breath on the side of his face. He tried to see and all he could see was black hair and the smell of stale breath.
Sam and Pippin were yelling as the blade came to Frodo's throat and Lobelia and Farmer Maggot were screaming. Frodo couldn't tell whether or not he was screaming as Saruman approached but he felt helpless.
Saruman looked at him and said, "I should have made sure your uncle was killed in the battle at that stupid mountain. That battle killed a king – a worthless, exiled dwarven blacksmith, but still a king. – and it couldn't kill one measly little Hobbit?"
"My uncle was very lucky," Frodo gasped. Behind him, he could hear Wormtongue muttering, 'don't talk back, don't talk back, it'll only hurt worse if you talk back…'
"Your uncle was a fool. You may not have the Ring but I will be the ruler of this Middle Earth. With Sauron gone, I can be king.", Saruman told him, a deranged glint in his eye. "I'll start here, in the Shire. Gandalf will be long gone, and you Hobbits will help me."
"Aragorn will stop you. You could not have the Ring and you will not have Middle Earth!"
"We'll s-," Saruman's words ended with a gasp and he staggered where he stood before falling over face first into the lawn.
A heavy, Dwarven battle axe stuck out of the back of his head, and a hooded dwarf stood at the bottom of the laneway. A second one behind him with triangle shaped, snow white hair and four sharp knives in his hand, took two steps and in the blink of an eye, one of those daggers dug deep into Wormtongue's skull.
He choked and Frodo struggled to keep the blade from piercing his neck as Wormtongue fell to the ground dead. Frodo pulled breath deep into his lungs as he forced himself away from the bodies and to the side of Bag End, Pippin throwing questions at him while Sam helped Lobelia out of Bag End.
Down by the laneway, Rosie, her younger brother and Mrs. Maggot brother had come sprinting over, Rosie's brother helping Mrs. Maggot tend to Farmer Maggot while Rosie and Sam took care of Lobelia. Sam cast anxious looks over to Frodo until Rosie told him to get over to Frodo, they could handle things here.
Sam hurried over, outrunning the hooded dwarf as he made his way towards a very winded and shook up Frodo. Sam and Pippin stood in front of Frodo to defend him, Sam holding Sting in his hands, and both felt their jaws drop in shock when Merry came running up the steps of Bag End.
"Stop, you fools! Sam, put that sword down! They're friends, I tell you," Merry panted, joining them. He doubled over to catch his breath as Sam and Pippin pelted him with questions, but Frodo looked at the hooded dwarf.
"Who are you?", he said. "Let me see your face."
The hooded dwarf was silent, and then a scarred hand bearing knuckle dusters pulled the hood back. Frodo knew by the tattoos who he was but stayed quiet as he bowed shortly and said,
"Dwalin, at your service."
"Frodo Baggins, nephew of Bilbo Baggins, at yours and your family's," Frodo replied. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Erebor?"
Dwalin shook his head. "The Mountain stopped being a home for me many years ago. I went to live in my brother's house in Ered Luin when he left on his journey to Moria, though I suspect you know more about the end of that tale that I right enough."
"Unfortunately, I think I may. I'm sorry for the loss of your brother," Frodo said quietly. He had vague memories of Balin, son of Fundin, from his childhood. Balin had always been a kind dwarf from what he could remember, but his uncle had told him stories from his quest and he knew that there was a warrior behind that kindness. It just made a young Frodo respect him all the more. Seeing the tomb had been a knife that stuck in his heart.
Dwalin nodded graciously. "I knew when he left I'd not see my brother again. Moria is a lost cause; it will be until the world is remade. I'm glad he had you and Gloin's boy and old Gandalf there to pay respects, though. I'm relieved to find we got here in time to keep you from needing a tomb, Master Baggins."
"Not that I'm not exceedingly grateful, Master Dwalin, but why are you here? This is no matter for dwarves to worry about," Frodo asked.
"I received a letter in Ered Luin from a very dear friend, telling me of the evil that had come on this land and asking if I could gather some friends to come and sort it out. He used to live in the Shire but recently, he's staying with the Elves in Rivendell," Dwalin said with a mischievous half-smile. "Once upon a time, a very brave Hobbit took a problem upon his shoulders that shouldn't have been his to deal with either, and it gave my people what we wanted most of all."
"The Lonely Mountain," Frodo guessed.
"A home, lad. My very best friend died getting that home back, and we couldn't have done it without your uncle," Dwalin explained. "There aren't many left in this world I would gather a small army and march for almost a month straight to help but your uncle is one of them."
"In that case, I am eternally grateful for the friendship of the dwarves. I'd offer to have you stay in my home but I think it may be uninhabitable for a while," Frodo answered.
The triangle-haired dwarf wandered over and peered inside Bag End. He hummed and hawed for a moment and then proclaimed, "It's not nearly as bad as the armouries were when we got the Mountain back. This shouldn't take more than a week for us to clean up if we put our backs into it."
"Then let's get this place sorted out. Start with the lawn and work our way in?", another asked, a floppy hat perched on his greyed hair.
"Might as well. There used to be such a lovely garden here too.", the one with the triangle shaped hair sighed. He received a look of disbelief from the other two and said defensively, "What? I can have an appreciation for the beauty of nature."
Dwalin shook his head with a smile as the two got to work, and he looked at Frodo, who was watching with no small amount of amazement. "A friendship with dwarves does have its perks. We'll get this place fixed up, lad."
"As long as there are no plates being thrown.", Frodo said, startling a laugh out of Dwalin. He looked up at Bag End as the dwarves Dwalin brought with him separated over the Shire to begin the rebuilding, and then smiled at Sam, Merry and Pippin. "Let's get to work."
AN:
I love the dwarves, and the Hobbits. They make me happy.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you enjoyed it.
As always, much love,
Oracle.