Every Man for Himself

Just about everyone knows of the special place the hobbits have in the King's heart. Particularly the Ringbearer. What happens when two Men decide to play on this love? After all, the hearts of Men are easily corrupted… Every man for himself.

Chapter 1: Third Day

3 May 3019 – After Sundown

Peregrin Took opened his mouth and proudly allowed the familiar gas of a few good ales to pass into the stuffy air of the crowded tavern. He blatantly ignored the annoyed glare that a certain elder cousin directed at him and closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands behind his head comfortably. It was the third day since the armies of the West had returned to Minas Tirith. It also happened to be the third day since Pippin had returned to his duties as a knight of Gondor. He smiled hazily to himself. So this was what it felt like to have a couple of ales after a hard day's work.

"Who's up for another round?"

Pippin expertly located his empty mug while still keeping his eyes shut and held it up for Merry to take and refill. His smile widened as he heard Legolas' light voice pipe up.

"I'll accompany you Master Meriadoc," he said. "I wouldn't mind another ale myself."

It was also three days since the Prince of Mirkwood had had his first ale.

"Do Elves get drunk I wonder?" mused Sam aloud as the two made their way to the bar. Pippin re-opened his eyes again and tracked the Elf as he moved through the crowds of patrons, providing a convenient wake for Merry in the process.

"I guess we'll soon find out," he said. Frodo shook his head with a smile.

"He'll not forgive you if he does," he said.

"My dear cousin!" cried Pippin, sitting up properly and staring at Frodo as if he had just announced that pigs could indeed fly. "You severely underestimate the limits to our dear Elf! Of course he'll forgive us if he gets drunk! It's not in an Elf's nature to hold a grudge."

Gimli suddenly snorted and promptly began choking on his ale. Sam gave him a few well-placed thumps on the back while Frodo gave his youngest cousin a disbelieving look.

"Us?" he said. "If 'us' refers to yourself and Merry, I'll admit that you two have mastered the art of getting yourselves out of scrapes almost as easily as you get into them. But for the record I had no part in this – nor did Sam for that matter. I do not doubt that King Thranduil still uses his dungeons from time to time. I doubt that he would be pleased if he heard that his son was seen drunk in a tavern full of drunk Men."

Pippin's face fell in disappointment. "But Legolas always likes to learn more about mortals," he said. "Learning how to not keep your drink is one of the most important lessons!" His eyes suddenly brightened and he looked up at his cousin with a brilliant smile. "But even if me and Merry were thrown into the dungeons, I'm sure you would be able to get us out. I bet the King would do anything for the Ringbearer."

Frodo rolled his eyes and exchanged a look with Sam. The gardener merely smiled back serenely, though he privately agreed with the irrepressible Took.

At last Merry and Legolas returned to the table bearing six fresh mugs of ale. The table fell silent as everyone drank deeply. Well… almost all. With a shake of his head and a small smile of something along the lines of amusement, Frodo slid off his seat and made to move in the direction of the door to the tavern.

"Hoy!" called Merry. "Where are you going?"

"Outside," replied Frodo. "It's too stuffy in here. And unlike you lot, I would rather not suffer any more of the King's… remedies… than I already have to. He and Gandalf would probably both crack their nuts if I got a hangover."

Sam immediately got to his feet. Seeing this, Frodo quickly stopped him. "No Sam," he said. "You stay here and finish that ale. You deserve a good night out. Don't let a silly old hobbit ruin your fun. I'll see you all back in our quarters."

Before Sam could say another word, Frodo exited the inn. The standing hobbit plonked himself back on the bench ruefully. He didn't feel right leaving his Mr Frodo alone and that was a fact.

"Oh lighten up Samwise!" said Pippin. "He'll be fine for a little while. He's just going back to the palace. What could possibly happen?"

Sam sighed and took a swig from his mug. Master Pippin was probably right. But then why did the gardener not feel better? He sighed again. It was the third day since they had arrived at Minas Tirith. The third day since Frodo Baggins had been deemed fit enough to even think of making the journey. Yet here he was, going off in the dark of night, in a city that he barely knew. And he was alone.

TBC