Payment First
"You're pathetic," she spat.
"I-."
"I'll never speak to you again!"
"But-." SLAM The door shut in Merry's face. He let the small bouquet of wildflowers he had been holding fall to the ground. I need to get drunk Numb, he stumbled down the road to the nearest inn.
Hours later, Merry lifted his head from the bar, surrounded by empty tankards. His head hurt, but luckily he remembered nothing of his fight with Estella. He also remembered nothing of how he had gotten there. He walked outside, behind the inn to get some fresh air and try to clear his head.
"Only a shilling," a voice said from the other end of the courtyard, "Only a shilling for a few minutes with me." He turned and looked upon the Hobbit who spoke. He was no fool; he knew her for the whore she was. He was not usually the type of Hobbit who went for that sort of thing, but the drink had clouded his mind and slowly, he ambled over.
"Payment first." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shilling, depositing it in her grubby hand. Then he began to unlace his then-tight breeches. He lifted her skirts and gripped her waist, drawing closer and letting the soft flesh envelope his.
Merry woke up stiff with first light creeping over the horizon. He stood and looked around him, wondering how he came to be in a courtyard littered with trash. Then the previous days events seemed to wash over him. He didn't remember anything after meeting the prostitute; he must have fallen asleep. How could I have done such a thing?
"Oh, Estella," he sighed aloud. Estella? What will I tell Estella? He had begun to walk up the road, going faster by the second. She'll never speak to me a- she'll never speak to me anyway. He collapsed in despair by the side of the road.
"You're pathetic," she spat.
"I-."
"I'll never speak to you again!"
"But-." SLAM The door shut in Merry's face. He let the small bouquet of wildflowers he had been holding fall to the ground. I need to get drunk Numb, he stumbled down the road to the nearest inn.
Hours later, Merry lifted his head from the bar, surrounded by empty tankards. His head hurt, but luckily he remembered nothing of his fight with Estella. He also remembered nothing of how he had gotten there. He walked outside, behind the inn to get some fresh air and try to clear his head.
"Only a shilling," a voice said from the other end of the courtyard, "Only a shilling for a few minutes with me." He turned and looked upon the Hobbit who spoke. He was no fool; he knew her for the whore she was. He was not usually the type of Hobbit who went for that sort of thing, but the drink had clouded his mind and slowly, he ambled over.
"Payment first." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shilling, depositing it in her grubby hand. Then he began to unlace his then-tight breeches. He lifted her skirts and gripped her waist, drawing closer and letting the soft flesh envelope his.
Merry woke up stiff with first light creeping over the horizon. He stood and looked around him, wondering how he came to be in a courtyard littered with trash. Then the previous days events seemed to wash over him. He didn't remember anything after meeting the prostitute; he must have fallen asleep. How could I have done such a thing?
"Oh, Estella," he sighed aloud. Estella? What will I tell Estella? He had begun to walk up the road, going faster by the second. She'll never speak to me a- she'll never speak to me anyway. He collapsed in despair by the side of the road.