Wounded Children

Hey, fanfic readers. This is the first fanfiction I've actually ever written and published. I wrote this to give Frodo a chance to act like a father, you know, the kind that actually sees his kids through babyhood and childhood. It's not great, but see what you think!

Scarborough Fair

Chapter One: A Little Friend of Sorts

Frodo sat in Will Whitfoot's office, shuffling through a stack of papers Merry had given him. They were accounts of all the shirrifs in Hobbiton. Frodo looked at one after another with disinterest. How many more of these are going to come through? He thought.

He put the whole lot aside on the desk and closed his eyes a bit, rubbing his temples. He had a faint headache. So much stress, from the Quest, from his work…

"Frodo?" Merry came in. He had another stack of papers with him.

"Oh no, not another lot of shirrif records, Merry."

"There's just one here, Frodo. And it's important."

Merry stood beside Frodo, who took the papers. "We've not been having any cooperation from Olo Bracegirdle, that shirrif from near Bywater," said Merry. "We've tried to get him back to his posts, where he should be, but he's never on duty."

"Olo Bracegirdle is bad news, Merry, what do you expect?" replied Frodo. Olo Bracegirdle had always been a disreputable shirrif.

"Well, maybe he has a reason. We've heard his wife is missing."

Frodo turned in surprise. "Eos Took? Adelard's daughter?"

"Yes. Pippin told me she's been gone a month now."

Frodo wrinkled his brow. "How come no one was told until so recently?"

"Until recently Hobbiton was in chaos. Nothing could get across to the shirrifs then."

"As Deputy Mayor, I think if I talk to him maybe I can get things straight," said Frodo.

"Well, you can try, but it'll be hard talking reason into him."

Olo Bracegirdle was a burly and rough looking hobbit. He always looked as if he was going to snap someone in half. Frodo knew this wasn't going to be easy as he walked through the door.

The whole smial was ill-kept. Cloaks and bits of leather were strewn all over the floor that was coated in what must have been a month's worth of dust. There was the stench of beer and vomit in the air, as if drunks came here every night. Olo showed the two other hobbits into the sitting room.

"So Mister Bracegirdle, I've had reports saying you haven't been on duty," began Frodo.

Olo narrowed his eyes. "This is what you came to talk to me about, Mister Deputy Mayor? My job?"

"Why, yes. Your post in Bywater is crucial at present, and we can not do with no shirrif on duty here."

"Take heart, Mister Baggins, me wife has been missing a month, I'm trying to look for her, and you want me to go back to my post?"

Frodo felt Pippin tense beside him. Eos Took had been Pippin's favorite cousin. "A missing spouse is hardly a reason to abandon your post, Mister Bracegirdle. Can't we take care of that for you? Especially now that the ruffians are gone."

"Ay, Mister Baggins, thank you kindly," replied Olo, though he didn't look too pleased.

"I will have Mr. Took make arrangements with you. You do the talking, Pip, I'll be outside."

Frodo left Pippin with Olo in the sitting room, and went to wait outside. He sat in a chair in the foyer. He felt someone's eyes on him. He looked up and saw a little girl, with huge brown eyes staring at him from behind a cloak hanging from a peg.

"Hello," said Frodo, trying to be friendly, "are you Eos and Olo's daughter?" The girl nodded, but did not move from her hiding place.

"Come here." Frodo beckoned kindly to her. The girl took two steps toward him.

"Come," he repeated. "Don't be afraid. I don't bite." Is she so afraid of strangers? Frodo didn't remember being this tentative when someone he did not know approached him when he was little.

The girl stepped until she was in front of him. Frodo took her hand, gently, lest she became afraid again. "I'm Frodo," he said. "What is your name?" he asked softly.

"Crystal," was the barely whispered reply. Frodo studied her. Crystal was small, no more thannine years old. Her dress was made of some brown, rough material and was much too small and tight. The doll she clutched to her was nothing more than an old sock, stuffed to form its head. It had no face.

"Your doll, does it have a name?"

"She's called Opal," Crystal replied, still quietly. "Do you want to see her?"

Frodo nodded and took the plaything. While pretending to look at the doll, he observed the girl. She seemed smaller than she really was. Her eyes darted to and from the door behind which her father and Pippin were talking. Was it fear of Olo that made her movements so fluttery? It must have been. It couldn't be Eos. From what Frodo remembered of her, she was a gentle creature who rarely had a sharp word for anyone. Frodo doubted she had changed so drastically.

"Why are you so quiet?" he asked Crystal. "Not many little girls are as still and silent as you."

"Mommy told me I should be quiet," she said. "She said if I'm quiet Daddy won't hit me as much." As she moved to take her doll back, Frodo's gaze moved to her hand. There was a great bruise near her wrist, and also a slash across her knuckles, probably from a whip. He looked at the tiny hand he held. There were a series of cuts across it.

So Olo beat his daughter, cruelly, it seemed. Of course, all hobbit fathers beat their children at times, but who would give a nine year-old bruises and whip lashes, so many of them too? Did this have to do with Eos's disappearance? Perhaps her husband had beat her as well?

Crystal rubbed her doll's blank face, her eyes gazing at it intensely, as if thinking if she tried hard enough, it would acquire eyes, a nose, and a mouth. "Do you have any other dolls?" asked Frodo. Crystal shook her head.

"Daddy took all my dolls away," she replied.

"Except Opal," said Frodo. Crystal nodded. At the use of her plaything's name, her eyes seemed to look upon him with more trust. She knew for sure that this gentle, blue-eyed hobbit would not hurt her. He was not like those drunken friends of her father's that often came home with him in the evening, who taunted her and sometimes tugged a little on her pinafore. For the first time in a month, she felt safe.

"I'm sorry about your mother, child," he said, laying a hand on the girl's head.

"Maybe she's happier away," Crystal replied. Frodo's eyebrows knitted slightly.

"And why's that?"

"Daddy always hit her and she cried." Crystal bounced Opal on the floor, trying to "walk" her.

"Crystal," said Frodo, "If I come back, I'll bring you another doll. I promise."

The little girl flew up. Her eyes brightened. "Another doll?"

"Yes. But don't tell your father, hmm?" Crystal nodded excitedly. Just then, they both heard the scraping of chairs from the next room. Crystal fled down the hallway just as the door flew open.

Like my first chapter? It may take a while to get the next chapter up, but when I start getting to the juicy parts I might speed up. Anyway, R & R!