Okay, so I have a writer's block for my other story, Bothersome Punishments. (Now removed.) What do I do? Write another fanfic! Dedicated to the horse that set out with the Fellowship in the first place but was ditched along the way because mines aren't meant for him - Bill the Pony! First fanfic, so please suggest things on the way! :D
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Lord of the Rings. Even Bill the Pony belongs to Mr. Tolkien himself. Okay, well I invented Alfie, Evita, and Lace. That counts as mine.
Enjoy and review!
11/25/11 – Hi, I'm back! Just felt like fixing this story because I'm bored. Plus, after reading it through, I realized some of the plot mistakes, so the chapter is partially changed. Hope you like the fixings!
~littledragoneyes
Chapter 1:
In this vast universe, there's a country called Middle-Earth, and in Middle-Earth there is a small village named Bree, and I can tell you one thing - barely anything happens. You've got the market. You've got the people. You've got the horses. You've got the farms. You've got the stores. You've got the houses. You've got the sun, sky, ground, air, and food. Apparently, you've got everything but yours truly, adventure.
But this place is more than you can ask for. It's far, far away from chaos down in those places like the mighty Gondor and swift Rohan and cruel Mordor. It's away from the elves and dwarves and mountains and such. We're close to the Shire, though, but they never venture outside their country so it's fine. Who would bother this tiny village?
Sunlight flooded through the stables, striking me in the face with full glare. I lifted an eyelid groggily; spying a few flies dancing over me. With a grunt, I swatted them away as I shook the hair out of my eyes and lifted my bowed head.
Yawning, I stood up, ready for another day in this small town of Bree. Life here…was nice. The horses and ponies were kind to one another; the hay was fresh, and the skies are blue for the most part. Nobody interferes very much from the outside world and in return, we don't either. Innocent and boring, you really couldn't ask for more.
Then I heard a familiar harsh voice. I flicked my ears, feeling slightly irritated now.
"Get up, you spineless worm!" Heads of horses swiveled down, row by row, to a dirty man who stood towering over a small foal, barely older than a few months. Nobody dared to say anything while he hurt that little one. We all held our tongues, knowing what would happen if we really did speak out. Er, neigh. I watched on as the man spat a few more bitter words to the poor thing before entering the stall and kicking it until it stood. Then he left without a single word.
Meet Bill Ferny. Sarcastically speaking, he's the jolliest person in the world. He's got a rather unpleasant reputation since birth and obtained a bad name for himself. He's the owner of the stables I live in, you see, and a great one at that. No horse or pony in Bree gets their good share of hay or oats or fresh water, because it appears that Bill has a fairly bad memory that WE EXIST.
The foal let out a few whimpers before a mare in the stall next to him gently reached over and licked its wounds. The other horses of the barn turned away, their heads hanging low, shaking their heads and sighing.
"One day, I'm going to give that Bill Ferny a good kick." I quietly muttered to myself as I turned to begin my breakfast of hay. Well, whatever there was left of hay in my stall. My master had forgotten to give me fresh, new hay for the past days.
"Better not," whinnied a friend of mine, Alfie, in the next stall, with a toss of his head.
"He'll kick you back so hard that you'll be out for days before you'll come back, and when you do, he'll still be kicking you for as long as you live."
I raised my head, gulping down small scraps of hay, and looked towards my friend, giving him a knowing look. "That's what you say," I commented. "But I know I'll do it."
Alfie shrugged, not looking up at me. "Alright. I warned you." And he dove into his breakfast.
I rolled my eyes and continued my hunt for the hay scraps. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear a conversation brewing. I pricked my ears towards the sound and listened.
"That Bill Ferny, always getting into trouble that he didn't need to do," A horse snorted. "Did you hear it last night? The entire barn's talking about it, and a few mice came in reporting that they saw nine riders dressed in black, with black horses. They tried talking to those black horses about what was going on, but they just nearly ran over them like they didn't see them!"
I blinked, trying to hide my irritation of the name "Bill Ferny". Strange it seems, ever since I was young in these stables in Bree, I kept thinking that I was named after him. Which frankly, made me feel worse. But as time went on, I realized that I wasn't named after him. It was a mere coincidence.
But I still don't like it.
Whatsortofhorsedoesthat? I thought subconsciously.
"For the love of Mearas, what happened next?"
"I remember waking up sometime in the middle of the night, but Bill came in sometime during the night and let out some ponies of whatever his name was, Meriadoc Brandy-something - , up by the front of the barn, not the back, I think he forgot us - "
"Never mind if he forgot us, but Bill letoutsomeoftheponies?"
"No way!"
"He never did that to me!"
"Unfair! I haven't tasted fresh grass in months!"
By this time the entire barn was tuned into the conversation. I was, as well, and raising my head to get a better look at the horse that started the conversation, I recognized it to be Evita. Of course. The horse gossiper of Bree. I should've known right then and there it was her.
Evita raised her pale-colored head in pride and I tried to resist the urge of biting her. "Yes," she rambled on, "He let them out! I couldn't believe what I was seeing! I was about to scream for him to let me out as well, but, of course, he didn't see me."
Alfie seemed to be interested. He said loudly over the commotion, "Isn't it a sort of rumor that Bill Ferny is in a league with some spies that steal ponies or something?" My gaze flickered over to my friend. Everyone quieted down and looked at Alfie, who nervously shrank back at all of this new attention. "I mean, well - " Stumbling over words, he looked at me. "He purchased Bill."
I rolled my eyes. "Look, Alfie, that's old news already, everyone's heard of it."
Another mare, one that was besides Evita, spoke up, "Well, I've heard he's a supporter of that Sa-Saru-Sara- " She stumbled with her words, obviously had forgotten the name.
"Saruman, Lace?" Evita asked in a bored voice.
"Yes, that's him! The mice have told me that Bill Ferny is a supporter of Saruman, whatever he does."
Another horse, this time a gelding that I didn't know, added, "I've heard he studies the dark arts of some sort."
Lace looked confused. "The dark arts?" She cocked her brown-colored head to the side. "As in paintings that are darkly colored? I don't see why that's so important that let's him be so known now."
Evita sighed and reached over to Lace's stall and nipped her ear. Lace jerked her head back in pain, wincing. "No, stupid, the darkarts. He studies evil things, not paintings! Who in their right state of mind would ever study paintings?"
"Well, mentally speaking, Saruman isn't exactly in his right state of mind," I commented.
Alfie snorted. "Never knew he was trying," he muttered. I looked at him, and he grinned at me, before we both returned to the conversation the entire barn was musing about.
It wasn't very long until Bill Ferny and an unfamiliar voice flooded the barn. We all stopped talking and looked curiously at the entrance. It was Bill Ferny, alright, with some other man we all didn't know. He was chubby looking and had a gentle appearance. "Who are they? What are they doing?" I nickered softly to Alfie.
He shrugged. "Some men. Arguing with Ferny."
Arguing with Ferny is not the best idea if you wanted to know.
They were arguing, no doubt about it. About what, I didn't know. I don't understand the language of Man, and that's it.
Evita raised her head and pointed her ears towards them, to catch the sounds. She frowned a bit, thinking of what they were saying. She could sort of remember her old mistress speaking to her so many years ago, combing her mane and rubbing her neck gently. What was it?
"Aha!" Horse heads swiveled towards the sound of victory. "I know what they're saying!" She said proudly.
"What?" Lace asked curiously.
Evita began translating for us, and it sounded something like this:
"Bill Ferny, by the name of the Valar, what the bloody hell have gone in this barn? These horses look like they're dying!" The short man said, throwing his hands up and looking quite annoyed at our master. "When was the last time you fed them?" He walked over to a stall and inspected the inside, with a look of disgust on his face when he pulled back.
"Weeks," Alfie neighed helpfully, but the chubby man just smiled and patted his nose.
"They're horses, they can take care of themselves," Bill snorted, rolling their eyes. "I have better things to do than feed them and muck out their stalls."
"And let them sleep in trash? Is that all you have been doing this entire time I've worked at The Prancing Pony, just let them sleep with the flies and mice?"
"Look it, Butterbur, if you're going to buy a pony of mine, then I insist you get on with it than lecture me and tell me what to do in my own barn!" Bill Ferny sounded impatient and annoyed.
Snorting, the man, walked around to each stable, inspecting everyone's gums and muscles, and paused at mine. I stared right back, petrified to my weary bones. "This one looks nice." He commented to me.
I blinked, and looked at Evita. "What's that supposed to mean?" I neighed loudly to her.
She shrugged. "He thinks you look good?" She tried.
"I'll have him for four silver pennies." He declared, digging into his pockets and showing a four coins that color of silver to Bill Ferny, who frowned and muttered something under his breath. I was very confused at this point.
"What's a penny?" I asked Alfie. He looked just as perplexed as I was.
"I dunno. Something you eat? Looks like seeds."
"No, seeds aren't silver. They're golden brown, remember?"
"Yeah, but I haven't ate any in a while. Do you still remember the taste of them?"
Bill Ferny glared at the two of them bitterly. "Four silver pennies?" He spat on the ground. "You expect me to accept four silver pennies for Bill?" I immediately recoiled to the back of my stall in the sound of my name. Bill. "I don't want four silver pennies! I expect to have at least twelve or something! I have a life; I have to make a living! You expect me to live off four silver pennies?"
The chubby man sighed. "Ferny, we haven't all day. Here, we'll give you another four, is that alright?" He produced the same amount of pennies as he did before from his pocket.
"I asked for twelve,Butterbur, not eight!"
"Yes, but you released Brandybuck's ponies last night, didn't you, against his will? It's fair and square, Ferny, now get on with it!"
"No! I want twelve silver pennies, and I won't budge until you gimme them!"
With an exasperated sigh, the man gave Bill another four silver pennies, and then my master looked more content. Smiling, he said, "Alright, you want Bill? You can have this smelly, sick, old idiot."
I stared in alarm as my master opened up my stall door and tied a halter around my muzzle. My friends, all around me, the horses that I've known for so long neighed in panic and shouted for him to let go of me. Bill just shouted and pulled hard. I had no choice but to follow, though with restraint and with much reluctant pulling back.
"Here's Bill, he's a tough one to manage. Doesn't listen to me, and bites." Bill Ferny said, though I didn't know it, and yanked me towards the room with the saddles and reins. I let out a whinny to Alfie and my other friends. Though they were in their stalls, they kicked at the doors. "Don't let Ferny get you!" Alfie yelled.
Luckily, the short man had seen enough of mistreatment. He placed a hand on my master's shoulder and took the reins gently as my master grunted and went into the room. He laid a soft hand on my nose, stroking the rough fur that hadn't been combed in a while. It was both relaxing and reassuring, and I felt much better.
"Spoiling this pony won't do it any good. It needs a rough hand." Bill Ferny came back, placing a saddle on me and reins, and I frowned as the sharp metal bit was shoved ruefully into my mouth. Then my master added grudgingly, "And since I'm in a good mood, I'll pay you back for releasing your ponies. An additional eighteen pence for my trouble and your horse, and then I want you out of my sight."
The chubby man nodded. "That's good. Let's go, Bill." He led me away, and I moved instinctively, moving with the reins. Before I exited the stables for Mearas-knows-how-long, I looked over my shoulder with a wide grin, and the other horses looked on with jealousy at me.
"Lucky you!" Alfie called to me. I chuckled.
"Don't forget, kick Bill Ferny for me, will ya, Bill? If you come home and have the chance!"
I nodded in agreement, making mental notes in my mind. "If I ever do!"
So how did you like that? Hopefully you did. I haven't exactly read many Bill the Pony fanfics yet, so I decided to write one. :-D
Now go shoo and review for me, will ya? ;D
Cheers,
littledragoneyes