A/N - I put the responses to reviews at the end of the chapter this time,
since there were so many of you this time! You guys rock!
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 11 - Safe Haven
~*~Bree, afternoon~*~
Aiden hurried through the door of his home and locked it behind him. The house was a modest dwelling in a quiet street, comfortable but unassuming. As was common within the confines of the town, the house fronted the street directly with no garden space to speak of. Carefully tended window boxes bloomed cheerfully, however, and the glass panes were clean and shone in the late afternoon sun.
The little hobbit was becoming more alert by the minute and began to struggle against him with growing trepidation. He didn't blame the young one for being frightened. Thus far, men had treated him with cruelty or indifference, and the poor thing had nothing else upon which to base his assumptions.
"Easy, my little friend," Aiden soothed him. "I know you are afraid, but you need not be. You are in a safe place where nothing will harm you." He eased his burden down gently upon a sofa and turned to the hearth. Soon a fire crackled cheerfully, warming the room and its occupants.
Stifling a sneeze, Frodo watched Aiden as he stirred the fire and added another log. This man looked rather different from Dolan and Fergus, he thought to himself. He was tall and lean, tidy and well - dressed, carrying a certain air of respectability. His slightly wavy brown hair was neatly trimmed and combed back from his face but for one lock that stubbornly hung down above his right eye. He moved slowly and deliberately, as if actively trying to keep from making any sudden moves or threatening gestures.
Although this man spoke in a comforting tone and did not seem inclined to harm him, Frodo regarded him warily. The fog was beginning to clear from his mind, and he remembered hearing voices around him at the inn, and the words, 'I shall pay you eighty.' Respectable or no, this man had purchased him from Dolan and Fergus and at considerable expense.
As Aiden reached out toward him, Frodo pulled back, weakened and somewhat confused. "Please let me be," he said in a small voice, hunching up against the sofa cushions.
"What is your name, Shireling? You do come from the Shire, do you not?" Aiden kept his voice low and his motions slow and careful, unfolding a quilt and covering Frodo with it.
"Frodo," the hobbit stammered. "My name is Frodo Baggins, and yes, my home is in the Shire."
"A lovely place, young Frodo," the man answered. "My name is Aiden."
Frodo was taken by surprise. After days of being treated as a thing rather than a person, he suddenly had a name again, and it was acknowledged and spoken. He was unbound, and in a warm, comfortable place. Even so, it came to him that coin had changed hands, and this seemingly kind man now owned him.
"So I - I belong to you now," Frodo said in a small voice, not looking at Aiden.
Like a knife cutting him, those words! So sadly spoken, Aiden thought as he knelt down at eye level with the hobbit. "You belong to no one, Frodo," he answered with a smile. "I paid not for you, but for your freedom. You are neither possession nor prisoner."
Frodo could scarcely believe his ears. "You're not intending to keep me here?" He asked, confused by this strange turn of events.
"Not against your will," Aiden said seriously. "However, I imagine you have been through an unpleasant ordeal, and you need rest." He laid a hand lightly on Frodo's forehead. "You are also feverish and in need of nourishment." He rose and removed his cloak, hanging it on a peg by the door. "The streets of Bree are no place for a young one to wander alone, Frodo. If you would consent, I would have you remain here for the time being, at least until your strength returns."
"Thank you," Frodo said, his voice a little shaky. What this man had done for him was extraordinary, and Frodo was further amazed by the fact that Aiden asked him to stay rather than ordering him. "Why did you do it?" He dared to ask, forcing himself to look into Aiden's eyes. "Why did you pay so much, if only to release me?"
"I know some Shire Folk, Frodo. I buy and sell pipeweed, and I travel to the Shire frequently to purchase fresh supplies for my customers." Aiden hung a teakettle over the fire as he spoke. "Your people have been good to me and I owe them similar kindness. I could not brook it when I saw you bound and mistreated, and I would not have you suffer further at the hands of those evil men. It shames me to think of how my kind have behaved toward you."
Frodo tried to find something appropriate to say in response, but he was too dumbstruck to make a sound. He was spared further effort as Aiden continued speaking.
"How did you come to be in the company of such people?" Aiden seated himself nearby and regarded Frodo curiously.
"I was - I was sold to them," Frodo explained, the memory stinging bitterly. "I was taken against my will in the night."
"Who would do such a thing?" Aiden asked incredulously as he watched the hobbit's expression. A horrifying thought occurred to him. "Surely not others of your own kind?" Aiden was taken aback as Frodo nodded. Breathing a heavy sigh, he rose and paced a few steps across the floor. "Why do I find that so surprising?" he wondered aloud. "If there are good and evil folk among my race, why should there not be among others?"
Frodo considered the man's words and realized that there were indeed good and evil folk to be found in both the Shire and the lands of Men. Merry and Bilbo were certainly good, while Bargo and Reginard behaved more wickedly than any other hobbits Frodo had ever known. Dolan and Fergus cared nothing for the pain their greed caused others, while this man would give considerable wealth away to save another.
Aiden crossed the room to retrieve the kettle from the hearth, and stepped into the kitchen to prepare some mild herbal tea for his guest. "Are you hungry, Frodo?" he called.
"Yes, a little," Frodo answered. In truth he was very hungry, but with each passing moment he felt as though he was more of a burden to the good man. How would he ever repay such kindness? He had no money, indeed he had nothing at all save the dirty clothes he wore.
Aiden emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with food and two steaming cups of tea. He placed it on a small table nearby, and stood before Frodo, regarding him kindly. "I hope that I have earned your trust, Frodo," he began, and slowly reached out for one of the hobbit's wrists. Frodo caught himself nearly flinching away and forced himself to remain still as the man examined the marks left by days of captivity.
"I am no healer, but I can see to this for you," he said quietly. "Are you in pain at all?" He didn't want to ask the wrong question and risk seeing the fear return to the hobbit's eyes. Even so, he must know the truth about the little one's condition.
"My head hurts," Frodo replied, rubbing his temples. He assumed it was due to the aftereffects of the drug the men had used on him. Aiden looked concerned as he handed a cup of tea to the hobbit.
"You felt warm earlier. I suggest that we get you into a hot bath, and then off to sleep. But first, you must eat." Aiden left the room to go and draw a bath for Frodo, who ate hungrily, finishing every last bite.
~*~Brandy Hall, Buckland~*~
Saradoc Brandybuck made his way into his study. It had been a tiring morning, and the afternoon had brought no relief. Frodo's disappearance had caused quite an uproar when everyone realized the lad had not just gone in search of solitude. The past few days had been a strain indeed, what with the crisis itself and the added stress of dealing with Bilbo's insinuation that Frodo was not being cared for properly at the Hall.
The Master of the Buckland wrestled with his own conscience as well, knowing his son faulted him for not taking immediate action. Saradoc had not seen Merry all day, so the lad must be sore at him indeed.
He dropped heavily into the chair behind his writing desk, scrubbing a hand across his face restlessly. Seeing an envelope propped against the polished brass inkstand, he paused. The writing was clearly Merry's, and Saradoc opened the envelope, expecting to find an outpouring of his son's troubled thoughts. He had encouraged Merry to write down the things that weighed upon his mind, to make them clearer and lay them out in the light to be dealt with.
His face drained of all color as he read the message. Eru! Meriadoc, his dear and only son! The words on the page leapt out at him accusingly. 'Frodo and I have always looked out for each other, and this is no time for me to stop doing my duty by him,' Merry had written. Saradoc stared at the words and one of them kept jumping out at him. Duty. Had he failed to do his duty by his son? And what about Frodo?
Could that outrageous story of Merry's have even a grain of truth to it? It seemed so far - fetched, and yet - - Frodo was missing and his only son was now somewhere between Buckland and Bree, off on a dangerous adventure with old Bilbo, rather than safe at home where he should be. How could Bilbo allow this? His anger with the eccentric old hobbit warred with his guilt at having pushed his son's concerns aside as the emotional overreaction of youth.
There was only one thing to do, he knew. He would be leaving for Bree the next morning. Merry must return safely home with him, immediately. He would deal with Bilbo and his irresponsible act of allowing such a young lad to plunge headlong into danger. And that old fool wanted to be granted custody of Frodo? The thought was absurd.
Attempting to calm his jangled nerves, Saradoc rose from the desk and poured himself a brandy. Downing it in one swallow, he steeled himself and left his study to find Esmie and tell her the bad news.
~*~The Bree road, afternoon~*~
"How are you faring, Merry my lad?" Bilbo asked briskly, turning to look at the youngster who walked by his side. They had walked without stopping since crossing the Brandywine early that morning. Whether it was that both of them felt the same instinctive sense of urgency, or that neither of them wanted to be the first one to suggest slowing the pace remained to be seen.
"Fine, Uncle," Merry replied, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him. They had walked mostly in silence, neither speaking the thoughts that occupied him. Unable to bear the weight of unspoken concerns any longer, Merry looked up and asked, "Do you think they'll hurt him?" Merry's voice was quiet, devoid of its usual crispness.
"I don't know, Merry. I certainly hope not," Bilbo answered him, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I swear, if they have - " He didn't finish the sentence. Merry should not be exposed to the stream of blistering invective that threatened to break forth from him.
"How could something like this happen, Uncle? And why Frodo?" Merry asked bitterly. "Frodo would never harm anyone. He's friendly and courteous to everyone he meets, whether they deserve it or not!" Anger rose in him as he remembered his confrontation with Reginard and Bargo, and how scornfully they had spoken of his cousin.
"I don't know why, Meriadoc," Bilbo said wearily. He had been turning the same question over in his mind ceaselessly since the day before when Merry had burst in breathlessly and told him the shocking news. "Why anyone would wish to harm that dear boy is beyond my comprehension."
Turning to more practical thoughts, Merry questioned Bilbo. "When we get to Bree," he asked, "what do we do?"
"We must find accommodations and begin searching the town," Bilbo answered pensively. "We will have to ask at the inns, the marketplace, any place where people gather, I suspect."
"Do you think anyone will have seen him?" Merry asked, unsure in his own mind.
Bilbo looked even grimmer as he answered Merry's question. "Someone will have had to, lad." How to explain to the young lad what images sprang to mind at the words 'they've sold him to the Big Folk'? Depending upon the motives of the men, Frodo may very well have been seen by others, and perhaps for ill purpose.
Frodo could end up in any number of situations, many of them unpleasant. Men didn't spend good coin for anything they couldn't use in one fashion or another, Bilbo mused bitterly. Frodo could be working as forced labor of some kind as they spoke, or made to pick the pockets of pedestrians in the streets. There were worse, even darker possibilities that presented themselves, but Bilbo refused even to consider them.
It made little difference that there were a good number of hobbits living in Bree and the surrounding area. Although the Bree hobbits and the Big Folk of the town seemed to live in relative harmony, outsiders came and went with frequency, and they didn't always take note of the arrangement. There was even the possibility that Frodo was no longer in Bree at all, but in the hands of travelers who could have taken him anywhere.
"We should start with the inns, I believe," Bilbo told his companion. "They are the primary gathering places of the town and most news and gossip winds up in them one way or another." His gaze fell upon Merry's morose expression. "Don't worry, lad. We'll find him," Bilbo said as soothingly as he could. ~We had better,~ he thought grimly.
~*~Aiden's home, Bree~*~
Aiden touched the lid of the brass - bound trunk lightly, almost reverently. He hadn't thought to ever be in need of anything inside it again, but had simply not been able to bring himself to part with the contents. Now he suddenly found he could put some of the things to good use again.
It had been three years since the Fever had swept through Bree and the surrounding settlements. They had come so close to escaping its clutches, but then, even as the healers said the danger was mostly past, Callen had sickened and Morinda soon after.
Aiden wondered often how he himself had been spared while those he loved had been taken from him. It had taken all his strength to come to terms with the loss, and he was unsure at times as to whether he truly had. The trunk he now opened was proof of that, its contents neatly stowed away, preserved without purpose - until now.
The little hobbit's clothing was somewhat worse for wear as a result of his adventure, and Aiden had been struck by how closely the size of the garments matched that of those in the trunk. Cal had been of a similar size to that of his current houseguest, and Aiden was suddenly glad that he had preserved some of his belongings.
He pulled a small nightshirt from the trunk and shook the wrinkles from its folds. Digging deeper, he found a pair of simple tan breeches and a linen shirt. He hoped they would be a passable fit, as his tailoring skills left much to be desired. He closed the trunk and locked it again, placing the key in a carved wooden box on a shelf nearby.
"Frodo?" Aiden tapped on the closed door lightly to announce his presence. "May I enter?"
"Yes," came the simple reply. Frodo had finished bathing and had wrapped himself in one of the two large towels Aiden had left on the basin. The other sat unused and folded neatly nearby.
Aiden chuckled to himself. He should have known only one of the towels would be necessary. They were large enough to be used by a tall man, and there simply wasn't that much of Frodo to dry off. He placed the nightshirt on the basin stand, and regarded Frodo with satisfaction.
"Nothing like a good bath, is there?" Frodo smiled back at him. "There's a spare room ready for you down the hall and to the right. I've brought you something clean for now, and there are some items on the dresser that may serve for tomorrow. Your own things are waiting to be cleaned in the meantime."
Frodo held up the nightshirt and looked at it, surprised that there should be anything in the house to fit someone of his size. He hadn't seen any toys or other evidence that there were any children about. He looked across the room at Aiden and noted the faraway look in his eyes, and he understood.
"I - I'm sorry," he managed, uncomfortable with the thought that his presence may have brought back painful memories of another now gone. "Thank you, Master Aiden."
Frodo's words brought Aiden back to the moment, and he shook his head with a smile. "Just Aiden, if you please. Callen was very close to your size, and if he were here, he would be pleased to share his things with you."
Frodo merely nodded, not wishing to cause this good man any sorrow. He knew the pain the man carried in his heart, for he carried it too. It seemed they had something in common.
"I have some salve to soothe the marks on your wrists," Aiden said, taking a small jar down from a shelf. "The healer I got it from is quite skilled, it seems. It doesn't smell as badly as some remedies, and it doesn't sting in a wound either."
Still wrapped in the large, soft towel, Frodo seated himself on a small wooden stool as Aiden treated the chafed and reddened skin where the rope had been. "I cannot thank you enough for your kindness," he said. "I cannot possibly repay you properly."
"There is naught to be repaid, young friend," Aiden replied. "I left word with Butterbur at the inn to send any of your folk who seek you to my door," he continued. "Surely you have been missed by now."
"Perhaps," Frodo said absently. Seeing Aiden's expression, he elaborated. "I live with my aunts, uncles and cousins. There are so many of them that one can escape notice rather easily for while."
"I see," Aiden replied. Where were the lad's parents? Suddenly he remembered the look he had seen in the hobbit's eyes at the mention of Callen, almost as if he knew sorrow of a similar kind. Had the lad lost his parents somehow? But what kind of extended family did he live with that would not immediately know the absence of one of its own? It must be a very large family indeed.
"Any of your family who come to my home are welcome to stay as they will, Frodo," Aiden said, a glint of humor in his eyes. "And from the sound of things, yours is a large family indeed. I should not be surprised to find a herd of hobbits at my door in the days to come!"
"I doubt there should be so many," Frodo said, thinking of the few who would leave the comfort of the Hall to look for him. "Perhaps one or two, should they even discover the truth about what happened."
Aiden was hard put to conceal his dismay at Frodo's statement. Surely this lad's family cared enough for him to search as far as Bree! Frodo would be allowed to remain as long as he cared to, and if he wished to return to his home, perhaps Aiden would escort him personally.
Shifting the conversation to a less invasive subject, Aiden spoke again as he sealed the jar of salve and placed it back on the shelf. "Now you must rest, Frodo. As I said, there is a room ready for you, and if there is anything you need, you mustn't hesitate to make it known to me. I will be near enough to hear if you should call."
Before Frodo could thank him again, Aiden had stepped out of the room and closed the door. Frodo put on the nightshirt, finding it to be a nearly perfect fit. As he padded down the hall and into the room that had been readied for him, he felt rather ashamed. Up until now, he had begun to regard the Big Folk with fear and mistrust, thinking them greedy, cruel and uncaring. Aiden had disproved the notion completely, and had indeed earned Frodo's trust.
Frodo climbed into the bed and burrowed into the covers contentedly. Sleep beckoned him and he opened himself to it willingly, fearing nothing in this warm and safe haven. He would find a way to repay Aiden's kindness, if it took a lifetime to do it, he vowed. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately, sinking into the dreamless oblivion of complete physical and emotional exhaustion.
~*~To be continued~*~
Aelfgifu - Merry is definitely a brave youngster. He's got a bravado about him, doesn't he? After all, he ends up being referred to as Meriadoc the Magnificent. Aiden is definitely a sympathetic character, and Frodo could use some sympathy!
Daisy Brambleburr - At last we have a break in the case of the disappearing hobbit. Saradoc will be peeved, but he will be worried also. Aiden is definitely a good guy. He can't stand to see another person suffering whether they're his own kind or a cute little hobbit!
Camellia Gamgee - Took - Glad you like Aiden. It's always a challenge to bring in and OC and have him be believable and fit into the story without taking it over. Frodo's been pretty terrified so far, so I thought I'd give him a little break!
Krista - Aiden is definitely going to be coming to Frodo's aid, and not a moment too soon!
Shirebound - You were indeed just in time for the rescue, as was Aiden. You are right that Frodo could not be in better hands. We'll get to spend some time with both of them in future chapters.
Trust No One - A light at the end of the tunnel? Ahh, but where is the end? Not yet. The story continues, but Frodo definitely has a new friend.
QTPie 2488 - Looks like Aiden is getting a fan club. I think he's part of every decent person I've ever known, and something altogether individual as well. You'll get to know him better as we continue the story.
FantasyFan - You can breathe now! Frodo is in good hands for the present. We definitely have good developments happening for the time being.
Aratlithiel - Aiden makes me smile. I like having the opportunity to write a nice guy into the story for once. Broad shoulders, piercing eyes and silky hair? Sure. Why not?
TTTurtle - I thought maybe ff.net was acting up for a bit there. I posted another chapter just to make sure everyone came back - sneaky, eh? You're right, we're not nearly done yet. There is a lot more to come! Frodo needs an ally, so we've got him one.
Heartofahobbit - Thanks for joining us. I would say Frodo's meeting Aiden will certainly give him a new perspective on Men in general. These experiences will definitely prove to Frodo that the world is made up of good and evil together, and it is very true that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.
FrodoBaggins1982 - Joining us while on vacation? You are dedicated! Didn't I say there were no rangers coming to the rescue? LOL! Glad you like the new character. You'll see more of him as we continue the tale.
Ilmare - Plot twist? Hmmm. Maybe! But for now, Frodo has found a new friend who will be of great comfort to him. Let's get those other hobbits to Bree, shall we?
Iorhael - Frodo is in very good hands. Butterbur's babbling set the stage for Aiden's curiosity, which led to Frodo's liberation. Let's catch up with our young hobbit!
Endymion - It was good luck for Frodo that Aiden showed up. As you mentioned, there are still some nasty folks hanging about, though. Will we see them again? Hmm. answers in future chapters. Saradoc is plenty worried about Merry. Will he follow? Read on!
Gayalondiel - Thanks for your review of chapter 6! I know, I'm bad! Poor Frodo has had a tough time, but we'll be giving him some comfort in the next installment. Plot twists after that? Evil author ain't tellin'! With regard to chapter 10, thanks for your compliments on the relationship between Merry and Saradoc. They will interact in future chapters.
Chapter 11 - Safe Haven
~*~Bree, afternoon~*~
Aiden hurried through the door of his home and locked it behind him. The house was a modest dwelling in a quiet street, comfortable but unassuming. As was common within the confines of the town, the house fronted the street directly with no garden space to speak of. Carefully tended window boxes bloomed cheerfully, however, and the glass panes were clean and shone in the late afternoon sun.
The little hobbit was becoming more alert by the minute and began to struggle against him with growing trepidation. He didn't blame the young one for being frightened. Thus far, men had treated him with cruelty or indifference, and the poor thing had nothing else upon which to base his assumptions.
"Easy, my little friend," Aiden soothed him. "I know you are afraid, but you need not be. You are in a safe place where nothing will harm you." He eased his burden down gently upon a sofa and turned to the hearth. Soon a fire crackled cheerfully, warming the room and its occupants.
Stifling a sneeze, Frodo watched Aiden as he stirred the fire and added another log. This man looked rather different from Dolan and Fergus, he thought to himself. He was tall and lean, tidy and well - dressed, carrying a certain air of respectability. His slightly wavy brown hair was neatly trimmed and combed back from his face but for one lock that stubbornly hung down above his right eye. He moved slowly and deliberately, as if actively trying to keep from making any sudden moves or threatening gestures.
Although this man spoke in a comforting tone and did not seem inclined to harm him, Frodo regarded him warily. The fog was beginning to clear from his mind, and he remembered hearing voices around him at the inn, and the words, 'I shall pay you eighty.' Respectable or no, this man had purchased him from Dolan and Fergus and at considerable expense.
As Aiden reached out toward him, Frodo pulled back, weakened and somewhat confused. "Please let me be," he said in a small voice, hunching up against the sofa cushions.
"What is your name, Shireling? You do come from the Shire, do you not?" Aiden kept his voice low and his motions slow and careful, unfolding a quilt and covering Frodo with it.
"Frodo," the hobbit stammered. "My name is Frodo Baggins, and yes, my home is in the Shire."
"A lovely place, young Frodo," the man answered. "My name is Aiden."
Frodo was taken by surprise. After days of being treated as a thing rather than a person, he suddenly had a name again, and it was acknowledged and spoken. He was unbound, and in a warm, comfortable place. Even so, it came to him that coin had changed hands, and this seemingly kind man now owned him.
"So I - I belong to you now," Frodo said in a small voice, not looking at Aiden.
Like a knife cutting him, those words! So sadly spoken, Aiden thought as he knelt down at eye level with the hobbit. "You belong to no one, Frodo," he answered with a smile. "I paid not for you, but for your freedom. You are neither possession nor prisoner."
Frodo could scarcely believe his ears. "You're not intending to keep me here?" He asked, confused by this strange turn of events.
"Not against your will," Aiden said seriously. "However, I imagine you have been through an unpleasant ordeal, and you need rest." He laid a hand lightly on Frodo's forehead. "You are also feverish and in need of nourishment." He rose and removed his cloak, hanging it on a peg by the door. "The streets of Bree are no place for a young one to wander alone, Frodo. If you would consent, I would have you remain here for the time being, at least until your strength returns."
"Thank you," Frodo said, his voice a little shaky. What this man had done for him was extraordinary, and Frodo was further amazed by the fact that Aiden asked him to stay rather than ordering him. "Why did you do it?" He dared to ask, forcing himself to look into Aiden's eyes. "Why did you pay so much, if only to release me?"
"I know some Shire Folk, Frodo. I buy and sell pipeweed, and I travel to the Shire frequently to purchase fresh supplies for my customers." Aiden hung a teakettle over the fire as he spoke. "Your people have been good to me and I owe them similar kindness. I could not brook it when I saw you bound and mistreated, and I would not have you suffer further at the hands of those evil men. It shames me to think of how my kind have behaved toward you."
Frodo tried to find something appropriate to say in response, but he was too dumbstruck to make a sound. He was spared further effort as Aiden continued speaking.
"How did you come to be in the company of such people?" Aiden seated himself nearby and regarded Frodo curiously.
"I was - I was sold to them," Frodo explained, the memory stinging bitterly. "I was taken against my will in the night."
"Who would do such a thing?" Aiden asked incredulously as he watched the hobbit's expression. A horrifying thought occurred to him. "Surely not others of your own kind?" Aiden was taken aback as Frodo nodded. Breathing a heavy sigh, he rose and paced a few steps across the floor. "Why do I find that so surprising?" he wondered aloud. "If there are good and evil folk among my race, why should there not be among others?"
Frodo considered the man's words and realized that there were indeed good and evil folk to be found in both the Shire and the lands of Men. Merry and Bilbo were certainly good, while Bargo and Reginard behaved more wickedly than any other hobbits Frodo had ever known. Dolan and Fergus cared nothing for the pain their greed caused others, while this man would give considerable wealth away to save another.
Aiden crossed the room to retrieve the kettle from the hearth, and stepped into the kitchen to prepare some mild herbal tea for his guest. "Are you hungry, Frodo?" he called.
"Yes, a little," Frodo answered. In truth he was very hungry, but with each passing moment he felt as though he was more of a burden to the good man. How would he ever repay such kindness? He had no money, indeed he had nothing at all save the dirty clothes he wore.
Aiden emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with food and two steaming cups of tea. He placed it on a small table nearby, and stood before Frodo, regarding him kindly. "I hope that I have earned your trust, Frodo," he began, and slowly reached out for one of the hobbit's wrists. Frodo caught himself nearly flinching away and forced himself to remain still as the man examined the marks left by days of captivity.
"I am no healer, but I can see to this for you," he said quietly. "Are you in pain at all?" He didn't want to ask the wrong question and risk seeing the fear return to the hobbit's eyes. Even so, he must know the truth about the little one's condition.
"My head hurts," Frodo replied, rubbing his temples. He assumed it was due to the aftereffects of the drug the men had used on him. Aiden looked concerned as he handed a cup of tea to the hobbit.
"You felt warm earlier. I suggest that we get you into a hot bath, and then off to sleep. But first, you must eat." Aiden left the room to go and draw a bath for Frodo, who ate hungrily, finishing every last bite.
~*~Brandy Hall, Buckland~*~
Saradoc Brandybuck made his way into his study. It had been a tiring morning, and the afternoon had brought no relief. Frodo's disappearance had caused quite an uproar when everyone realized the lad had not just gone in search of solitude. The past few days had been a strain indeed, what with the crisis itself and the added stress of dealing with Bilbo's insinuation that Frodo was not being cared for properly at the Hall.
The Master of the Buckland wrestled with his own conscience as well, knowing his son faulted him for not taking immediate action. Saradoc had not seen Merry all day, so the lad must be sore at him indeed.
He dropped heavily into the chair behind his writing desk, scrubbing a hand across his face restlessly. Seeing an envelope propped against the polished brass inkstand, he paused. The writing was clearly Merry's, and Saradoc opened the envelope, expecting to find an outpouring of his son's troubled thoughts. He had encouraged Merry to write down the things that weighed upon his mind, to make them clearer and lay them out in the light to be dealt with.
His face drained of all color as he read the message. Eru! Meriadoc, his dear and only son! The words on the page leapt out at him accusingly. 'Frodo and I have always looked out for each other, and this is no time for me to stop doing my duty by him,' Merry had written. Saradoc stared at the words and one of them kept jumping out at him. Duty. Had he failed to do his duty by his son? And what about Frodo?
Could that outrageous story of Merry's have even a grain of truth to it? It seemed so far - fetched, and yet - - Frodo was missing and his only son was now somewhere between Buckland and Bree, off on a dangerous adventure with old Bilbo, rather than safe at home where he should be. How could Bilbo allow this? His anger with the eccentric old hobbit warred with his guilt at having pushed his son's concerns aside as the emotional overreaction of youth.
There was only one thing to do, he knew. He would be leaving for Bree the next morning. Merry must return safely home with him, immediately. He would deal with Bilbo and his irresponsible act of allowing such a young lad to plunge headlong into danger. And that old fool wanted to be granted custody of Frodo? The thought was absurd.
Attempting to calm his jangled nerves, Saradoc rose from the desk and poured himself a brandy. Downing it in one swallow, he steeled himself and left his study to find Esmie and tell her the bad news.
~*~The Bree road, afternoon~*~
"How are you faring, Merry my lad?" Bilbo asked briskly, turning to look at the youngster who walked by his side. They had walked without stopping since crossing the Brandywine early that morning. Whether it was that both of them felt the same instinctive sense of urgency, or that neither of them wanted to be the first one to suggest slowing the pace remained to be seen.
"Fine, Uncle," Merry replied, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him. They had walked mostly in silence, neither speaking the thoughts that occupied him. Unable to bear the weight of unspoken concerns any longer, Merry looked up and asked, "Do you think they'll hurt him?" Merry's voice was quiet, devoid of its usual crispness.
"I don't know, Merry. I certainly hope not," Bilbo answered him, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I swear, if they have - " He didn't finish the sentence. Merry should not be exposed to the stream of blistering invective that threatened to break forth from him.
"How could something like this happen, Uncle? And why Frodo?" Merry asked bitterly. "Frodo would never harm anyone. He's friendly and courteous to everyone he meets, whether they deserve it or not!" Anger rose in him as he remembered his confrontation with Reginard and Bargo, and how scornfully they had spoken of his cousin.
"I don't know why, Meriadoc," Bilbo said wearily. He had been turning the same question over in his mind ceaselessly since the day before when Merry had burst in breathlessly and told him the shocking news. "Why anyone would wish to harm that dear boy is beyond my comprehension."
Turning to more practical thoughts, Merry questioned Bilbo. "When we get to Bree," he asked, "what do we do?"
"We must find accommodations and begin searching the town," Bilbo answered pensively. "We will have to ask at the inns, the marketplace, any place where people gather, I suspect."
"Do you think anyone will have seen him?" Merry asked, unsure in his own mind.
Bilbo looked even grimmer as he answered Merry's question. "Someone will have had to, lad." How to explain to the young lad what images sprang to mind at the words 'they've sold him to the Big Folk'? Depending upon the motives of the men, Frodo may very well have been seen by others, and perhaps for ill purpose.
Frodo could end up in any number of situations, many of them unpleasant. Men didn't spend good coin for anything they couldn't use in one fashion or another, Bilbo mused bitterly. Frodo could be working as forced labor of some kind as they spoke, or made to pick the pockets of pedestrians in the streets. There were worse, even darker possibilities that presented themselves, but Bilbo refused even to consider them.
It made little difference that there were a good number of hobbits living in Bree and the surrounding area. Although the Bree hobbits and the Big Folk of the town seemed to live in relative harmony, outsiders came and went with frequency, and they didn't always take note of the arrangement. There was even the possibility that Frodo was no longer in Bree at all, but in the hands of travelers who could have taken him anywhere.
"We should start with the inns, I believe," Bilbo told his companion. "They are the primary gathering places of the town and most news and gossip winds up in them one way or another." His gaze fell upon Merry's morose expression. "Don't worry, lad. We'll find him," Bilbo said as soothingly as he could. ~We had better,~ he thought grimly.
~*~Aiden's home, Bree~*~
Aiden touched the lid of the brass - bound trunk lightly, almost reverently. He hadn't thought to ever be in need of anything inside it again, but had simply not been able to bring himself to part with the contents. Now he suddenly found he could put some of the things to good use again.
It had been three years since the Fever had swept through Bree and the surrounding settlements. They had come so close to escaping its clutches, but then, even as the healers said the danger was mostly past, Callen had sickened and Morinda soon after.
Aiden wondered often how he himself had been spared while those he loved had been taken from him. It had taken all his strength to come to terms with the loss, and he was unsure at times as to whether he truly had. The trunk he now opened was proof of that, its contents neatly stowed away, preserved without purpose - until now.
The little hobbit's clothing was somewhat worse for wear as a result of his adventure, and Aiden had been struck by how closely the size of the garments matched that of those in the trunk. Cal had been of a similar size to that of his current houseguest, and Aiden was suddenly glad that he had preserved some of his belongings.
He pulled a small nightshirt from the trunk and shook the wrinkles from its folds. Digging deeper, he found a pair of simple tan breeches and a linen shirt. He hoped they would be a passable fit, as his tailoring skills left much to be desired. He closed the trunk and locked it again, placing the key in a carved wooden box on a shelf nearby.
"Frodo?" Aiden tapped on the closed door lightly to announce his presence. "May I enter?"
"Yes," came the simple reply. Frodo had finished bathing and had wrapped himself in one of the two large towels Aiden had left on the basin. The other sat unused and folded neatly nearby.
Aiden chuckled to himself. He should have known only one of the towels would be necessary. They were large enough to be used by a tall man, and there simply wasn't that much of Frodo to dry off. He placed the nightshirt on the basin stand, and regarded Frodo with satisfaction.
"Nothing like a good bath, is there?" Frodo smiled back at him. "There's a spare room ready for you down the hall and to the right. I've brought you something clean for now, and there are some items on the dresser that may serve for tomorrow. Your own things are waiting to be cleaned in the meantime."
Frodo held up the nightshirt and looked at it, surprised that there should be anything in the house to fit someone of his size. He hadn't seen any toys or other evidence that there were any children about. He looked across the room at Aiden and noted the faraway look in his eyes, and he understood.
"I - I'm sorry," he managed, uncomfortable with the thought that his presence may have brought back painful memories of another now gone. "Thank you, Master Aiden."
Frodo's words brought Aiden back to the moment, and he shook his head with a smile. "Just Aiden, if you please. Callen was very close to your size, and if he were here, he would be pleased to share his things with you."
Frodo merely nodded, not wishing to cause this good man any sorrow. He knew the pain the man carried in his heart, for he carried it too. It seemed they had something in common.
"I have some salve to soothe the marks on your wrists," Aiden said, taking a small jar down from a shelf. "The healer I got it from is quite skilled, it seems. It doesn't smell as badly as some remedies, and it doesn't sting in a wound either."
Still wrapped in the large, soft towel, Frodo seated himself on a small wooden stool as Aiden treated the chafed and reddened skin where the rope had been. "I cannot thank you enough for your kindness," he said. "I cannot possibly repay you properly."
"There is naught to be repaid, young friend," Aiden replied. "I left word with Butterbur at the inn to send any of your folk who seek you to my door," he continued. "Surely you have been missed by now."
"Perhaps," Frodo said absently. Seeing Aiden's expression, he elaborated. "I live with my aunts, uncles and cousins. There are so many of them that one can escape notice rather easily for while."
"I see," Aiden replied. Where were the lad's parents? Suddenly he remembered the look he had seen in the hobbit's eyes at the mention of Callen, almost as if he knew sorrow of a similar kind. Had the lad lost his parents somehow? But what kind of extended family did he live with that would not immediately know the absence of one of its own? It must be a very large family indeed.
"Any of your family who come to my home are welcome to stay as they will, Frodo," Aiden said, a glint of humor in his eyes. "And from the sound of things, yours is a large family indeed. I should not be surprised to find a herd of hobbits at my door in the days to come!"
"I doubt there should be so many," Frodo said, thinking of the few who would leave the comfort of the Hall to look for him. "Perhaps one or two, should they even discover the truth about what happened."
Aiden was hard put to conceal his dismay at Frodo's statement. Surely this lad's family cared enough for him to search as far as Bree! Frodo would be allowed to remain as long as he cared to, and if he wished to return to his home, perhaps Aiden would escort him personally.
Shifting the conversation to a less invasive subject, Aiden spoke again as he sealed the jar of salve and placed it back on the shelf. "Now you must rest, Frodo. As I said, there is a room ready for you, and if there is anything you need, you mustn't hesitate to make it known to me. I will be near enough to hear if you should call."
Before Frodo could thank him again, Aiden had stepped out of the room and closed the door. Frodo put on the nightshirt, finding it to be a nearly perfect fit. As he padded down the hall and into the room that had been readied for him, he felt rather ashamed. Up until now, he had begun to regard the Big Folk with fear and mistrust, thinking them greedy, cruel and uncaring. Aiden had disproved the notion completely, and had indeed earned Frodo's trust.
Frodo climbed into the bed and burrowed into the covers contentedly. Sleep beckoned him and he opened himself to it willingly, fearing nothing in this warm and safe haven. He would find a way to repay Aiden's kindness, if it took a lifetime to do it, he vowed. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately, sinking into the dreamless oblivion of complete physical and emotional exhaustion.
~*~To be continued~*~
Aelfgifu - Merry is definitely a brave youngster. He's got a bravado about him, doesn't he? After all, he ends up being referred to as Meriadoc the Magnificent. Aiden is definitely a sympathetic character, and Frodo could use some sympathy!
Daisy Brambleburr - At last we have a break in the case of the disappearing hobbit. Saradoc will be peeved, but he will be worried also. Aiden is definitely a good guy. He can't stand to see another person suffering whether they're his own kind or a cute little hobbit!
Camellia Gamgee - Took - Glad you like Aiden. It's always a challenge to bring in and OC and have him be believable and fit into the story without taking it over. Frodo's been pretty terrified so far, so I thought I'd give him a little break!
Krista - Aiden is definitely going to be coming to Frodo's aid, and not a moment too soon!
Shirebound - You were indeed just in time for the rescue, as was Aiden. You are right that Frodo could not be in better hands. We'll get to spend some time with both of them in future chapters.
Trust No One - A light at the end of the tunnel? Ahh, but where is the end? Not yet. The story continues, but Frodo definitely has a new friend.
QTPie 2488 - Looks like Aiden is getting a fan club. I think he's part of every decent person I've ever known, and something altogether individual as well. You'll get to know him better as we continue the story.
FantasyFan - You can breathe now! Frodo is in good hands for the present. We definitely have good developments happening for the time being.
Aratlithiel - Aiden makes me smile. I like having the opportunity to write a nice guy into the story for once. Broad shoulders, piercing eyes and silky hair? Sure. Why not?
TTTurtle - I thought maybe ff.net was acting up for a bit there. I posted another chapter just to make sure everyone came back - sneaky, eh? You're right, we're not nearly done yet. There is a lot more to come! Frodo needs an ally, so we've got him one.
Heartofahobbit - Thanks for joining us. I would say Frodo's meeting Aiden will certainly give him a new perspective on Men in general. These experiences will definitely prove to Frodo that the world is made up of good and evil together, and it is very true that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.
FrodoBaggins1982 - Joining us while on vacation? You are dedicated! Didn't I say there were no rangers coming to the rescue? LOL! Glad you like the new character. You'll see more of him as we continue the tale.
Ilmare - Plot twist? Hmmm. Maybe! But for now, Frodo has found a new friend who will be of great comfort to him. Let's get those other hobbits to Bree, shall we?
Iorhael - Frodo is in very good hands. Butterbur's babbling set the stage for Aiden's curiosity, which led to Frodo's liberation. Let's catch up with our young hobbit!
Endymion - It was good luck for Frodo that Aiden showed up. As you mentioned, there are still some nasty folks hanging about, though. Will we see them again? Hmm. answers in future chapters. Saradoc is plenty worried about Merry. Will he follow? Read on!
Gayalondiel - Thanks for your review of chapter 6! I know, I'm bad! Poor Frodo has had a tough time, but we'll be giving him some comfort in the next installment. Plot twists after that? Evil author ain't tellin'! With regard to chapter 10, thanks for your compliments on the relationship between Merry and Saradoc. They will interact in future chapters.