_The Battle of Bywater: Part II_
Author: AfroKen
Disclaimer: Yeah, I think it goes without saying these aren't my characters (well, maybe the ones that bite it are), and I'm certainly not profiting from this little waste of time. Honestly! ^_^
Summary: Blood and Hobbits
Rating: PG-13 for battle sequences.
Author's Note: This is obviously just the battle scene, as there's no explanation here whatsoever. I'm fairly lazy, really. I admit this vignette is rather dark, but it's decently close to canon. My only real reason for writing it was some attempt at catharsis, and to be honest, it's not that good. If you wish to file an injustice, please do via the proper channels.
"'Well, you have walked into a trap,' said Merry. 'Your fellows from Hobbiton did the same, and one is dead and the rest are prisoners. Lay down your weapons! Then go back twenty paces and sit down. Any who try to break out will be shot.'"
_Lord of the Rings_ The Return of the King: The Scouring of the Shire, by J.R.R. Tolkien
BoB: Part II
Frodo spotted his younger cousin, Fredegar Bolger, cornered against a scorched tree. He was armed only with a bit of rope and his fishing pole. Frodo turned around to see Sam occupied in binding the hands and feet of a foe, while Jolly was rolling on the ground clutching a foot and howling. The slender Baggins pushed up the sleeves of his white shirt and ran over to Fatty. He dug his heel in the small of the enemy's back. The ruffian swiveled and threw a punch at the new opponent. The older hobbit jumped aside as Fatty took the opportunity to thump the foe's bald head with the rod. Frodo pressed his spine against the tree, gasping for air. Fatty's cheeks flushed and he handed the rope to Frodo, who then threw the cord around the trunk and squirmed up the partially charred elm.
Fatty circled the fishing pole around in his hands and brought it around to crack against the ruffian's hip. The thug's fingers clawed into the tree's carbonized bark and lifted its knee into Fredegar's stomach. The hobbit wretched and fell defeated to the ground, rubbing his tender ribs. The foe looked up and snarled at the pale hobbit above. Frodo tensed his foot and struck the thug's chin. It flinched, but began crawling up the tree. Bits of black dust clouded around them as they both scaled the burned trunk.
Frodo threw himself over the lowest branch. He brought his knees over the bough and hung upside-down. A crease formed between his eyebrows and he slapped the rope at the crumbling bark above the thug. The ruffian pawed uselessly at the bark, then toppled to the ground. The entire tree shook and the burnt brittle branch directly above the hobbit shattered. He balanced on the edge of the bough to avoid the debris. Frodo glanced down to notice the foe picking itself up and scrambling back up the tree. It swiped its grubby arms toward Frodo's head. The foe white-knuckled the hobbit's weskit and attempted to rip him from his perch. Frodo squirmed out of the velveteen vest and twisted his body around the limb. He sat there, out of reach, and wrapped the ends of the rope around his hands, using it to spin around the branch and deliver a swift kick to the foe's throat. He spun around again and brought his knees to the bough, settling upside-down. The foe roughly seized a lock of Frodo's hair, but the hobbit wrapped the rope around the thug's face, gagging it. He brusquely tied the other end of the cord around the tree's limb.
Frodo quickly eased himself down the tree. His cousin had recovered and was ready with the rod, harshly beating the thug's fingers. The enemy lost its grip, and began a descent that ended with a taut rope and an awful choking noise. Fredegar gave the hanging ruffian a last rap with the fishing pole, but Frodo stayed his hand, appalled. "I believe that is enough." The older hobbit turned to rejoin Sam and Jolly when he heard the thunderous collapse of the burdened branch. A stunned Fatty jumped up and down, pointing. Frodo put his hand on the young hobbit's shoulder and led him away.
Pip waved to Merry who was bringing his sword down through the chest of an enemy whose leg had only been grazed from one of Sam's arrows. The thug twitched, and Merry drew back up, recovering his weapon.
Peregrin heard a coarse snarl to his left and shifted his weight. One of the remaining Men had stolen Sam's idea, and was whipping a chain in each hand on the ground at Pip's feet. Pippin jumped and heaved his sword down upon the chain. Sparks rose up and the link broke. The foe dropped the shortened chain and waved the intact length over its head. The thug flailed it sideways, and the chain wrapped around Pip, solidly capturing him. The ruffian pulled Pippin toward itself, knocking him down and dragging the hobbit along the grass. Merry shouted a distraction and wielded his weapon before the foe's face. Pip shook loose the chains and walked forward bruised and sore, but otherwise unharmed. Angered, he rushed at the thug, and drove his sword into the foe's torso before the ruffian could move.
Merry turned to see stout Pando Goodbody losing a struggle with the leader of the thieves. Meriadoc pointed his sword at the scene and Pip nodded, letting him go. Pippin stepped back to realise he was up against two of their enemies and, unhappily, quite alone. Pip smiled ingratiatingly at the leering Men. One of the foes pounced toward him, but Pip ran through the legs of the other thug. The ruffians knocked together, and fell to the ground, disoriented. "Well, that was simple enough!" Pip forced one of the foes to double over its legs by pressing a foot onto the back of its neck. He raised his sword up, and impaled the ruffian through its back.
The surviving foe stood back up and stared at him. Pip beckoned him over in bravado. "Come on, then! Your turn!" The foe snickered and picked up the broken chain, examining the severed link. It was razor sharp and twisted. Pippin raised his eyebrows. "Oh dear."
The two paced around each other, not breaking eye contact. Pippin was careful to stay out of the range of the shortened chain and the foe was beyond the range of Pip's sword. At last, Pip shrugged and sheathed his sword. "Maybe we should settle this bare knuckles?" He licked his thumbs and held up two freckled fists.
The foe refused to fall for the bait. It tossed the broken chain into the air, and the sharp end caught the skin on Pip's left arm, ripping through shirt and muscle. The young hobbit gritted his teeth and caught the chain from the air. He grabbed it from the thug's hand and whipped it around, swiping the foe's forehead. Thick warm blood flowed down the foe's face, blinding it momentarily. Pip clawed at his sleeve, tearing it off. He wrapped the fabric tightly around his bleeding arm, and tied a knot with the help of his teeth. Peregrin approached the thug and punched its stomach with as much force as he could muster. The foe grunted and tripped him, sending the young hobbit into the bloodstained muck. Pippin made an effort to get up, but slid helplessly back into the wet soil. The thug reached out its arms and jumped. Pip drew and pointed his sword at the enemy. He gritted his teeth as he felt the thug's body land on top of him. There was a ghastly sound of bursting flesh and organs as the foe slid with agonizing slowness down his sword.
Peregrin Took found himself unable to hold the weapon any longer; the pressure on the handle was forcing it into his chest. Pippin panted and wriggled out from under the body. Slowly, the panic was driven from his breath, and he laid exhausted in the mud. For several moments he hardly moved.
Concluding in Part III…