_The Battle of Bywater: Part III_

Author: Banazir (or AfroKen depending on where you're reading this.)

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 III

The giant squint-eyed ruffian heaved poor Pando to the damp ground with an audible crack. Pando's body hit the earth twisted, with one leg bent impossibly beneath him. Merry's eyes widened and he shouted in rage. He darted toward the thug and brought his sword around two handed, gashing the ruffian leader's beastly back. The thug spun around, its lip curled in an amused leer. "Disgusting hagling!" It reached for the massive red crossbow hanging from its hip, but Merry kicked the bow from its hand.

"Oi! Are you going to fight me, or are you planning on wearing me out with charming conversation?" Merry balled up a fist and threw a punch at the thug's belly that never connected.

The huge brute threw its own arm at Merry's back, knocking the hobbit to the ground. Meriadoc caught himself on his hands and knees and looked up to see Pando's face, frozen in terror and attracting flies. Another two-handed blow and Merry groaned as he was forced flat into the dirt. He rolled over, though the action made him nauseous. The leader kicked him in the side, making the hobbit scramble to get up. Merry pulled his sword again, but his footing was unsure. He swayed and trembled. The ruffian laughed and loudly cracked its knuckles in celebration.

Merry dropped meekly to the ground, but the foe roughly dragged him to his feet. "You make this so easy for us," it hissed into the hobbit's ear. Merry tussled uselessly in the ruffian's arms. The thug chuckled and brought one hand over Merry's mouth and nose. The young hobbit kicked frenetically, attempting to pry the leader's fingers off his face,  when he noticed the foe's silver arrows twinkling in the Shire sunlight. They rattled from the ruffian's movements in their quiver on its back. Meriadoc levered his feet against the foe's leather belt and reached over its muddy shoulder. The foe's grip over his face tightened, and a black fog appeared in Merry's vision. He fought the impetus to swoon and snatched a handful of arrows from the enemy's quiver and desperately rammed one into the foe's ear.

The ruffian screamed, holding its head. Meriadoc gagged and tried to relax his breath. Finally,  he shook his head and picked up the foe's scarlet crossbow. He aimed squarely at its dirty forehead. "Not any more." Merry raised an eyebrow and calmly shot the raven-fletched arrow straight into the ruffian's brain.

"Merry!" Pippin was clutching at his arm, dried blood staining his cotton shirt. His woolen trousers were crusted in mud. "Oh! Are you all right? You got him!"

Merry ran his fingers through his moist curls. "Yes," he sat down wearily in the mud. "And I should be asking you that, from the looks of you."

"No, I'm fine. Look! It's over! We've won the war!" Peregrin and Meriadoc surveyed the field: many lifeless Men were piled up in the center of the field, several hobbits were driving waggons toward the bodies, a group of surviving ruffians was kneeling with their hands raised in the air, and nearly twenty dead hobbits were lain out in neat rows. They saw Sam on the hill sponging a skinned knee with Frodo's handkerchief. The gardener was nodding his head gravely, while Frodo was kneeling in front of him and pointing toward the Shire's capitol, Michel Delving.

Meriadoc Brandybuck shook his head. "No, Pip. I believe we have another struggle yet to face."

I Mente!