Sorry for the long delay. I was updating my fanfics and taking a break. :)
*.*.*
Minas Tirith's first level tavern, the Burning Sage, had a large dining area that was similar to the Prancing Pony inn's dining area. Tables, chairs, and booths were scattered throughout the room, which had wood-paneled floors and beige painted walls. It was here that Frodo found all the amenities, including a barber in a corner, close to the stone fireplace.
Frodo sighed. He needed a haircut and would gladly use one. He approached the innkeeper's booth, telling the thin-framed man, "I'd like a room, please?"
The innkeeper pointed an index finger past the gentle-hobbit's shoulders. Strange. What was the innkeeper pointing to?
"What?" Frodo asked, turning finally to the window that was close to the front door. There was the hobbit boy, waving to him. Frodo grunted, making his way towards the front door and opening it.
The hobbit boy barged in, stunning the poor gentle-hobbit, who still held the door. Frodo scrambled to close the door, before approaching the hobbit boy again, who asked the innkeeper for a room for two, all while smiling up at Frodo.
This confused Frodo. Was the boy offering him a room, too? Either way, the innkeeper was friendly to them. Shocking!
"I'll get your room ready. It's on the house, Chester!" the innkeeper said to the hobbit boy, smiling widely at him.
"Chester?" Frodo asked, stunned by the name.
"Do you have a problem with that?" Chester asked, concerned.
"Who are you? And why am I bunking with you?" Frodo asked, confused.
"Well, you know my name, but I dare not know you," Chester asked in return.
Good question.
"Frodo Baggins," Frodo said, his brow furrowing. "I'm sorry. Where is your family? Your parents?"
"My mother's in jail and my father is dead," Chester said forthwith.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Frodo said, sympathetic.
Chester shrugged. "It's no problem. Things happen." He asked, heading over to an empty table, "Care to join me? I heard about your Ring quest. It was the quite the endeavor, wasn't it?" He added, out of curiosity, "Then again, who knows? I might offer you a job, now that the Ring is destroyed." He said, ecstatic, the moment Frodo sat down across from him, "Good riddance! I bet it took five men to destroy that wretched thing!"
"A friend died destroying the Ring," Frodo said, serious. "I don't like to talk about it."
"It just happened. Why wouldn't you talk about it?" Chester asked, giving the waitress his order.
Frodo gave a small grin. "Good point." He turned to the waitress, giving his order before she walked away. He asked Chester, curiously, "So, who are your parents? I'd like to know that part, so we can return you to them."
"I already told you: my mama's in jail and my father is dead." Chester gulped, not liking this part of the story. "Look, my father was the Bearer of Secrets. Thomas Hardbottle. His wife is Silvia Hornblower. They were local Shire-folk, hunting for the Salvia plant. It was their life's work to learn the secrets of the Salvia plant. It seems they passed it down to me."
"Your father is the Bearer of Secrets?" Frodo asked, concerned. Oh no! What if this lad found out that Samwise Gamgee, his best friend, killed Chester's father?
"Well, if it's any consolation, you're more than welcome to bunk with me tonight and then be on your merry way," Chester said with a warm-hearted smile.
"Shouldn't we find a new family for you?" Frodo asked the moment their food and drinks arrived. He thanked the waitress, before asking Chester further, "One that doesn't involve learning about the Salvia plant. Your parents are dangerous. Don't be like them."
"I'm afraid it's too late," Chester said, nodding to a man that came up behind Frodo. Before Frodo had the chance to say something else, a sack was pulled over his head, blinding him from the world.
~o~
The sack was removed, allowing Frodo to blink several times. He was in a well-lit room and tied to a chair. Seriously? What was with Chester's family, binding him to a chair, whenever they pleased? He remembered Silvia and Thomas doing that to him ten years ago. He nearly forgot, but now the memory was there, not so easily forgotten now.
He turned to Chester and his three thugs. The thugs were a female elf with long black hair, a man with brown hair and a bald spot on his head, and a dwarf with auburn hair and an annoyed expression on his face. These people did not look friendly. Not one bit.
"What are we doing here?" Frodo asked, shyly.
"Quiet!" Chester punched him in the stomach. The force of the blow nearly winded the hobbit musketeer. He hadn't expected a blow so powerful. Frodo looked up to see Chester drizzling the Salvia plant powder onto a clean cloth. Chester smiled, liking this game. "Now, now. This won't hurt one bit." He added, telling his plan, "Minas Tirith is about to have a Salvia plant nightmare after I'm done with it."
"You're going to use the Salvia plant on the White City?" Frodo asked, trying to wiggle out of his bonds. Nothing worked. His wrists were sore. He wanted to massage them. He looked up in time to see the man cover his mouth and nose with the cloth.
The last thing he heard from Chester before he fainted, was "Have a good night's sleep. You won't remember a thing—"
Frodo blacked out, remembering no more.