I'm back, thank you for all my lovely reviews! Sorry about the slight wait, I've been a ball of nerves waiting for my exam results, and on that note I got into my first choice university, thank the Valar, so that's all good and sorted now :D!
Loves to read books – Thank you, I'm so glad you're still enjoying it so much :)
Honest reader – Thanks for reviewing, I'm so glad that you like it. In regards to Elza, I totally understand why you're worried, but I promise that this isn't going to become the Elza show. She has been central in the last couple of chapters because of the plot, and characteristics such as her wittiness were actually constructed to make her a better match for Dwalin. As far as the rest of the story goes, she will not be taking the central focus – she'll float in and out of the limelight as the plot calls for her with a role probably just below the company in importance though she will be appearing frequently. I have seen stories turn out the way you're worrying this one will, but this never has been and never will be Elza's story. Interestingly, she's not actually my favourite OC in this story (though I do love her quite a lot) so you have nothing to worry about. I'm so glad that you've loved it so far, I hope you keep loving it as it goes on!
Please forgive any mistakes I make in this chapter :)
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Sixty Three # The End of the Innocence #
Yawning loudly, Hamson Gamgee shuffled through the hall of his family home to answer the loud, heavy knock on the door. Everyone else was asleep, save his brother Halfred, who had woken him by throwing a pillow on his face and moaning at him to go and answer the door. The hour could not have been earlier than three in the morning, but Hamson was more confused and annoyed than he was worried about who their late night caller could be.
Too tired to bother to remember his manners, Hamson slouched against the heavy door and called through the wood. "Who is it?"
"Tom Cotton!" a young, trembling voice piped up. "Please open up!"
Hamson groaned. Tolman Cotton was almost ten, his birthday being only a week before that of Hamson's own brother Samwise, and though he was a pleasant enough child the tween was far too exhausted to deal with such an energetic young lad right now. "Why aren't you in bed, Tolman? Sam can't play now… Go home!"
"Please open the door!" Tom pleaded sorrowfully.
With a heavy sigh, Hamson opened the door, but as soon as his yawn began he snapped his jaw shut and froze like a startled rabbit. Little Tom Cotton was standing in the doorway with tears streaking down his cheeks, and behind him stood two huge, bearded, heavily armed dwarves. These were not Master Kíli's dwarves, oh no – they were complete strangers and their eyes were dark, lending an evil appearance to their smirks. One of them had a hand clamped firmly on Tom's shoulder, and as he turned his head up to look at Hamson, Tom's eyes glistened with tears of fear and guilt.
Instinctively Hamson took a step back away from the door, but the terror in the face of the child before him prevented him from slamming the door in the faces of these strange dwarves.
"C-can I help you?"
"Aye, you can, laddie." The dwarf with his hand on Tom drawled. "You can go and wake up your lovely little family and bring them out here to us, nice and quietly."
Hamson's heart began pounding as all traces of sleep were blown away by fear. Every nerve and instinct in his body was screaming at him to slam the door, but he thought of the bravery in Mister Bilbo's stories and swallowed. "What do you want with my family?"
"Oh, the same thing we want with everyone else's." the second dwarf's voice was calm enough, but there was a malicious sparkle in his eyes that made Hamson want to scream. "Don't you worry, if everyone cooperates there'll be no need for anyone to get hurt at all, now will there, Tom?"
The little boy's lip trembled and he shook his head quickly.
Hamson closed the door a fraction. "I don't think I can really-"
The first dwarf began to throw and catch a knife as casually as one would throw and catch an apple or a ball, and Hamson's blood ran cold. "Oh, I think you really can. Sindri will help you."
The other dwarf, the smaller of pair, pushed his way forward, shoving the door open and Hamson scrambled back, opening his mouth to shout out for his parents.
"Don't scream, halfling, we don't want to cause a fuss." The dwarf – Sindri – warned darkly as he strode into the Gamgee's home. Hamson scuttled further back until he was standing outside his bedroom door, quite unsure of what to do. "Well? Is there someone in there?"
Glancing towards his brother, Hamson nodded reluctantly.
"Go and get them then, we don't have all night!"
Hamson tumbled into the room he shared with Halfred and shook his brother's shoulders quickly. "Fred, you have to get up now!"
"Why?" Halfred groaned, but Hamson pulled him out of bed and hissed in his ear.
"Because we're in trouble – big trouble!"
In a matter of minutes, Sindri was escorting the last of the Gamgee's – their mother and little Marigold, out of the house with a triumphant nod to his dwarven companion. Hamson was sure that he had never been so afraid in his whole life as he stood outside in the chilly evening air in his pyjamas, staring at the numerous blades attached in plain sight to these dwarves' clothes. The larger of the two was prowling around them in a wide circle, reminding Hamson horribly of a predator circling its prey.
If the dwarves chose to attack, the hobbits would surely be doomed.
Little Sam's trembling hand slipped into Hamson's and the older hobbit squeezed his little brother's fingers tightly. He could feel Daisy's fingers wrapped around his shirt and he could see that his father's arm was around May as she cowered into his legs.
"Right, now we don't want anyone to get hurt, so let's shut this door…" Sindri pulled up the door to their house and looked at the Gaffer's front garden. "Perfect… I'd just like to remind you that if anyone shouts, screams or even squeaks, we're going to have a good deal of trouble."
With that, the other dwarf tossed something into the cabbage patch, and with a flash of light and a muffled smash their garden burst into flames. Hamson jumped violently, pressing a hand over Sam's mouth to stifle the scream he could feel growing in the little one's throat. His youngest brother struggled furiously for a moment against his brother's muffling hand, fury in his young eyes, but one of the dwarves took half a step closer to him and the anger-fuelled bravery left the child. As Sam turned and clung to his brother's leg, shaking with silent sobs, Hamson glanced to his father, who looked as though equal parts furious and distraught as his prized garden burned, and for a moment the terrified twenty year old was certain that his father would give the strangers a piece of his mind.
The Gaffer's mouth opened, but he caught sight of his children and closed his mouth again, knowing better than to pick fights he could not win.
Inadvertently, Hamson's gaze flickered up the Hill to Bag End as the fire blazed away. If Mister Bilbo and Master Kíli and their dwarves woke up, maybe they could fight these strangers away…
They did not wake up, however, and the Gamgees were herded along with their neighbours from all areas of Hobbiton as fires sprang into being on several properties, and it was with great fear that they all stood in the large, abandoned field beneath the party tree, afraid and cold and waiting, while a dozen armed men on horses surrounded them.
After several minutes, three dwarves eventually made their way to the front to turn and address the entire population of Hobbiton – with the exception of those living in one house.
Bag End.
"Halflings…" A black bearded dwarf called commandingly. "My name is Frár, and I have gathered you all here tonight to explain a certain set of matters quite clearly to you."
"Gathered us to explain matters?" Saradoc Brandybuck scoffed strongly, disdain carved into his usually mild features as he glared at the strangers. "You have dragged us from our beds in the dead of night, set our gardens on fire and terrorised our children – this is no explanation. We would have you leave, immediately!"
Hamson held his breath as the dwarves took in Saradoc's brazen words, and one by one the strangers began to laugh scornfully.
"You would have us leave? And tell me, brave Master Hobbit, just what will you do to make us leave?" Frár sneered with a look that would have Hamson sinking further back into the crowd.
Saradoc squared his shoulders, trying desperately not to look as terrified as he felt. His every instinct was screaming at him to cringe away, to back down and wait this out, but images were flooding his mind, images of Kíli facing down trolls and orcs and stone giants and goblins and skin-changers and elves and barrels and dragons and war and torture –
If Kíli could do all of that, Saradoc could make a stand to protect his family, his friends and the village he had called home for more than two decades.
"Whatever must be done." He promised.
Frár laughed sharply. "You have fire, halfling, I'll give you that, but you're all bark and no bite. You have no leverage over us, you are powerless against us and you know it, so don't make promises you know you cannot keep. If you like, I will call it a warning and not an explanation. Does that make you feel better?"
Well aware that he was being mocked, Saradoc clenched his jaw and stared into the eyes the dwarf addressing him, but he did not say a word.
Frár laughed once again, even more sardonically this time. "It does not take much to steal the words from your mouth now, does it? I will speak clearly, so that your simple minds may understand. This is a warning to the worthless outcasts living in Bag End – and a warning to you. We have business here now that greatly concerns my people, and holds no significance to you. We have no quarrel with your people, but if you stand in our way, you will be crushed, and these petty fires on your gardens will seem like the flickering flame of a single candle. Any hobbit-man, woman or child who takes a stand against us will be taken care of accordingly."
Terror sank its teeth deeper into Saradoc's bones as he heard the sincerity of the dwarf's tone – these were no empty threats, and it was more than enough to scare and subdue the hobbits of Hobbiton.
"It can be exhausting…" Kíli admitted to Saradoc and Paladin as they walked down to the Green Dragon the day after he returned from Brandy Hall with Frodo. "Pretending to be brave, pretending that you hold no fear of those you see before you, especially when you feel like such a coward inside. But if you let them see how afraid you are, you will be the one to suffer the disadvantage for it, not them."
The dwarf paused and gave a chillingly sincere smile. "On the other hand, if you stay out of our path, you shall not be touched. If you choose wisely, we will pay for the damage to your property twice over, we will ride away and you shall never, ever see no hide or hair of us again - you can live here in peace and forget this whole ordeal. Everything shall go back to the way it was you won't even here a whisper of our company again, if you agree to our offer."
"And what offer would that be?" Hugo Boffin narrowed his eyes.
"All we ask for you is the outcasts at the top of the Hill." Frár began smoothly, and Saradoc's blood ran cold. "All they will ever bring you is trouble, and we can take them off your hands forever."
"You mean kill them?" Esme's voice was higher than normal and there was a slight waver to her words as she spoke up from where she stood further back in the crowd, sheltering Merry behind her skirt.
"We would not kill them." One of the two brunette dwarves spoke for the first time. "You need not trouble yourself with dark worries such as that, little lady."
A fresh wave of fury grew in Saradoc's heart at the way the dwarf was looking at his wife, but he ignored it to listen to the stranger's callous words.
"All you have to do is ensure that the residents of Bag End are here at this spot, unarmed and unconscious, in two days' time at noon. I shall leave you this-" he held up a small vial. "Just add but one spoon of this into each of their drinks shortly before noon and they shall fall right off to sleep. We will return then, and if they are there and sleeping you will receive a large reward, the promise of our eternal exile from your lands, and the knowledge that the heirs of Thorin Oakenshield will no longer bring havoc raining down onto your people."
"And just what sort of poison is in that vial?" Paladin called out, his voice deceivingly steady.
"Just a little something to make them sleep – I give you my word that it is not potent enough to kill even a child." The dwarf put a hand on his heart. "Oh, and that reminds me – we have heard news that Bilbo Baggins has taken in a young hobbit boy – believe me when I say that we mean no harm towards him. Keep him here, if you will, among his own people. He has no part in this."
"And if we refuse?" Saradoc questioned, stepping forwards slightly. "If we decide that we don't want to offer up our friends' lives on a platter? What then?"
The larger of the brown haired dwarves stepped towards him. Saradoc did not back down. "Then you have two choices, halfling. You can stay out of our way and play no part in the event, or you can be killed trying to prevent something that cannot be prevented. It's all up to you."
"I want to know what you want with the residents of Bag End, if you do not wish to kill them." Saradoc pressed, though he knew that it would probably be wiser to stop talking.
"It is no concern of yours."
"Oh, it most certainly is." Saradoc could feel the adrenalin pumping through his veins now, the terrifying thrill of fear and energy pulsing through his lungs as he took another step forward. "What if we tell them and give them time to flee? What then?"
"Then?" the dwarf raised his eyebrows as he sauntered over. "Well, if that is the decision you choose…"
With a movement as fast and sudden as a bolt of lightning, the dwarf lurched forward and smashed his fist into Saradoc's jaw. A staggering amount of pain burst across the hobbit's face as he stumbled backwards, but he was not fast enough to escape another blow to the cheek, a fist to his nose and a kick to his stomach that left him completely winded. Before he could even register what was happening, Saradoc's feet were swiped out from underneath him and he crashed to the floor with a startled gasp.
He could hear Merry screaming, but the sound cut off so abruptly that Saradoc's heart skipped a beat as the dwarf above him pulled out a knife and barked sharply. "Shut that boy up – now!"
Saradoc shook his head slightly, taken aback by how much pain this stranger could inflict with a few blows in a matter of seconds. His jaw felt as though he had been hit with a brick and he could feel warm blood trickling down from his aching nose as he struggled to catch his breath. Everything had happened so fast that no one had time to think, let alone protest at what had happened. Breathing heavily as his arm wrapped around his aching stomach, Saradoc managed to gather the courage to glare up at his attacker.
The dwarf crouched down and pointed his knife at Saradoc's face. The hobbit swallowed, his eyes trained on the sharp blade. "If he flees, your family will be the first to pay…in blood…"
"Dagr, we are running out of time!" one of the other dwarves called out.
Saradoc's heart froze and his gaze flickered from the knife to his attacker with a new surge of horror.
Dagr? Oh, no… no, no, no… This is not good…
"We will return in the day after tomorrow, at noon. You will tell those in Bag End that you never spoke to us – you tell them that we burned your property and left without a word. Give Kíli this." Dagr stared down and threw something at Saradoc's feet. "Beyond that, the choice is yours, and the consequences are in your hands."
Saradoc raised his eyes to glare at Dagr's back as the dwarf sauntered away and mounted his pony, but even as the men and dwarves peeled away one by one, the hobbits of Hobbiton stood very still, as if frozen, until the last sounds of the last hooves of the last horse melted away into the night.
As if a spell had been lifted, people burst into action. The little ones began to send haunting, frightened cries to their parents as murmurs and mutters arose between the terrified hobbits.
Saradoc's head was still reeling at the possibility that this could have happened when Esme pushed her way through the crowd and fell to her knees at his side.
"Saradoc-"
"I'm – ow…" he interrupted with a wince as Merry threw himself into his arms with a ragged sob. "I'm alright… Ow…"
Paladin appeared within the second with an unnaturally silent and pale Nelly on his hip, staring down at his friend with wide, horror-struck eyes. "Saradoc…"
Merry's arms tightened around his father's neck and Saradoc rubbed his son's back comfortingly as he struggled to his feet, repeating the only two words his dumbstruck mind could form. "I'm alright…"
"No you're not." Paladin said simply, his voice wavering as he looked around. "No one is… How did this even happen? What just happened?"
"They want to hurt Kíli!" Merry sobbed bitterly, clutching even tighter to Saradoc's neck, and automatically the hobbit tightened his arms a little further around his son, planting a kiss into Merry's curly hair.
"That's not going to happen." Esme murmured firmly, even as she took a hold of Saradoc's arm with a trembling hand. "It's not…"
"Did you hear?" Saradoc glanced between Paladin and Esme. "Did you hear who that was?"
They both nodded grimly.
"Who? Who were they, Papa?" Merry begged, looking up at his father with big, tearful eyes.
"Bad people." Saradoc replied, silently sending a prayer of thanks that his son was unharmed. If someone had to be hurt, Saradoc Brandybuck was glad it was him. "They were very bad people…"
"So what are we going to do?" Someone's voice yelled over the rising voices, silencing the private, desperate conversations.
"We are going to tell Bilbo and Kíli what happened, we are going to tell them everything." Esme called back strongly. "We have to warn them-"
"But what if they run?" Lily Underhill replied fearfully. "What if those…those people come back and, and-"
"They won't run away, not if it means leaving us here with no one to defend us…" Saradoc looked at the frightened tween in front of him. "You know they won't…"
"I say we all do nothing!" Otho Sackville-Baggins spoke up, his young son Lotho perched on his hip. "We should just take them up on the offer and do nothing about any of this, we'll just pretend tonight never happened!"
A whole chorus of protest erupted at Otho's words, with Saradoc's generation being the most vehement protestors.
"Look," Otho held up a hand to get people to listen to him. "What is it that you think we could do anyway? They were armed villains and we're hobbits, we don't want any trouble!"
"He's right!" a feeble, old voice called out, and Saradoc's heart grew a little heavier as Odo Proudfoot hobbled to the front of the crowd with his walking stick. Silence fell as everyone listened to the words of the once-mayor of Hobbiton. "We are hobbits. We don't want any trouble of any sort. We like our peace and our comforts; we have no interest in hate mongering or violence. We keep our noses out of trouble, lest it come knocking at our door. That's what I told Bilbo Baggins two decades ago when I told him that Kíli was not one of us. I reminded him that it's what we do – we keep tradition and we keep peace. None of us want to fight, we all know that, so come the day after tomorrow, anyone who doesn't want to protect Bilbo and Kíli Baggins should go inside and lock their doors. We look after our own, and we stay away from outsiders and Big Folk."
"Exactly-" Otho began, but old Odo was not done.
"I'm not sure you quite heard me, Otho." The elderly hobbit interrupted sharply. "I said we look after our own, and if Bilbo and Kíli Baggins aren't our own, then I don't know who is."
Saradoc could not help but smile sadly at the frail old hobbit's fierce declaration.
"I am Odo Proudfoot; I'm the Mayor of Hobbiton. And that means that I'm in charge here. Get away from those children before you kill somebody!"
"Kill somebody?" Kíli gasped, and Saradoc could see the horror in the young dwarf's eyes. "I wouldn't-"
"Milo, darling, I don't want you playing with him anymore." Lily started to usher Milo away and Kíli's cheeks lit up in a fierce blush.
"Saradoc, what did I do?" Kíli whispered desperately, and Saradoc's little heart ached for his friend.
Nothing! He wanted to scream, but he only mumbled miserably. "You're a dwarf…"
"Listen to me, I don't want any of you children to play with this dwarf anymore, understand?" Odo ordered fiercely.
Oh, how much things had changed…
"I feared many things when Bilbo opened his home to Kíli, but this…this was never one of them. No one expected this… If it was not for Kíli we would all probably be asleep and safe right now. If it was not for Kíli, this fear would most likely never have hung over our heads. But if it wasn't for Kíli, many of us would never have learnt that family can be found in the most unlikely of places. I know I don't speak only for myself when I say that my life was changed for the better by that boy's presence in Hobbiton. Few have given more love to the entire village than he has. We have a choice now, but I for one would not look poorly on anyone who chose to hide from this horror. It is our way, after all, and there are many children among us. But I myself agree with Mrs Brandybuck – we should warn Bilbo and Kíli about all of this and see what they think. After all, the dwarves they have staying with them at the moment will most likely have far more of an idea of what to do in such a situation than any of us do." Odo finished with a soft sigh.
"Fíli and Dís will be able to think of something, I'm sure of it." Paladin agreed, and Saradoc nodded his own agreement.
"So what do we do now?" Bell Gamgee spoke up, jogging Marigold up and down on her hip as the little girl hiccupped through sobs. "Will it be safe enough to return home, should we wait for sunrise?"
"I don't think we'd be waiting long." Saradoc nodded at the lightening sky towards the East.
"My suggestion would be to go home and have something to eat, then perhaps grab another couple of hours of sleep." The old hobbit announced. "At midday today, we could gather at the meadow and discuss our options with everybody who wishes to have a say, including those up at Bag End. Like I said, we haven't the best minds for this sort of trouble and we could use all the help we could get."
A general consensus of agreement rose up among the hobbits of the small village, and then they began to quietly peel away from the large group and scuttle quickly towards home.
Odo turned, leaning heavily on his walking stick as he looked at Saradoc, Paladin and Esme. "Will you go to Bag End?"
Saradoc's heart sank even as he nodded. He did not want to be the one to break the peace Bilbo, Frodo, Kíli and their dwarves had so painstakingly obtained, but we would rather his brother hear the horrible news from family.
Shaking his head sadly, Odo sighed, opening his mouth as if to say something before snapping it closed again and turning away, leaning on his son's arm as Olo led him away.
"We should get it over and done with…" Paladin's voice was far lower than usual and Saradoc nodded his agreement, rolling his shoulders slightly.
As they began to walk, Saradoc's toe stubbed something and he crouched down to pick up the object Dagr had thrown at him. He swallowed and slipped the small trinket into his pocket – he would show it to Kíli later.
Saradoc was relieved to see that none of the fires had spread – indeed, most had died out altogether due to the damp caused by yesterday's rain – though it broke his heart when the heartbroken Gaffer and his distraught children caught sight of the charred remains of his beloved vegetable patch.
Saradoc, Paladin, Esme and Ellie had walked up Bagshot Row to Bag End countless times, with and without their children. They had raced up the road in tremendous excitement and fled to the green door of Bag End in buckets of tears. They had knocked on the door to call for Kíli to come and play, they had invited themselves in for afternoon tea, and they had knocked on the door to invite Kíli and Bilbo to a night at the Green Dragon. They had brought good news and bad news and news of a most peculiar nature.
Bag End was just as much 'home' to each of them as their own houses were, if not more so. The garden path, the green door, and the interior of the hobbit hole itself were as familiar to them as their own faces, and they always felt at total ease walking in as though they owned the place – knocking was optional.
Never before had they walked up the path in solemn silence, and never had Saradoc yearned so desperately to be walking anywhere but to his friends' door. His arms were wrapped around Merry, perhaps a little too tightly, but his son's grip was equally tight. Though Merry let out no sobs, the growing damp patch on Saradoc's shoulder and the faint sniffling gave away his tears.
Esme walked beside her husband and her son, one arm looped around his and the other carrying little Pippin, whose young face was contorted into a look of fearful confusion. The boy was obviously scared enough not to ask questions – something that was exceedingly rare with the curious little boy, and Saradoc could not help but wonder how much the toddler had understood – he prayed with all his heart that it was little.
Paladin walked a few steps ahead of the Brandybucks with his head bowed and a daughter on each hip, though he struggled with carrying both Nelly and Pervinca at once more than Kíli ever did. Both girls were unnaturally silent, but while Pervinca was sniffling and crying quietly, Nelly was simply staring into space, her large blue eyes wide open and unblinking but completely dry, which was undeniably terrifying.
Ellie walked half a step behind her husband with Pearl attached firmly to her front, her face turned out to look over the Shire – to look anywhere other than Bag end. Saradoc's oldest niece was pressing her chin up against her mother's shoulder, tears trailing down her cheeks and onto Ellie's dress.
It felt like a funeral parade.
When they reached the gate, for the first time in twenty two years, they hesitated. After an immeasurable moment of silence, Saradoc pushed open the gate and walked down the garden path, reaching for the bell with a pause.
He thought of the haunted look in Kíli's eyes when the darker parts of his story were told, and he thought of the way that it had taken three days before Fíli and Kíli let the other out of their sight. He thought of the way that Bilbo had choked and been unable to tell parts of their tale, and he thought of the way that Bofur's eyes pinched with pain despite the nonchalance of his voice when he took over. He thought of the way that Nori's guarded eyes flickered from face to face as if he viewed everyone as a threat, and he thought of the pain and discomfort in Dís' eyes when she believed no one could see her.
Then Saradoc thought of the light-heartedness returning to Kíli's smile and the carefree contentment on Fíli's face when he played with the little ones. He thought of the light dancing in Bilbo's eyes as he revelled in the peace of home and the smiles Bofur's ever increasing popularity brought to the miner's face. He thought of the way that Nori seemed to light up when Nelly came to sit in his lap and narrate the events of her day to him, and he thought of Dís' warm smile that had grown lighter and become far easier to conjure as the short weeks had passed.
Saradoc would let Dagr beat him ten times over if it meant not having to shatter that peace. His friends – his family – had spent but a month together peacefully after suffering loss and grief and trauma and pain. They did not deserve to have their gentle respite broken in such away, it was not fair.
Taking a deep breath, Saradoc closed his hand around the chain to the doorbell.
"I'm so, so sorry…" he lamented mournfully, his voice cracking painfully, and he closed. "Oh Kíli, Bilbo, all of you - I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
Then Saradoc Brandybuck rang the doorbell.
Ta da! I hope you enjoyed that chapter, unfortunately we didn't get to Erebor, but that will occur soon :)
So, what do you think of the current events? Any theories yet?
I've recently discovered that my inability to write anything without angst has existed my whole life – my mum found stories written by a five year old me talking about orphaned lion cubs and rhinos who wanted to wage war on said cubs, so it shouldn't be surprising that things have taken a turn for the worse again, should it ;)
As a quick note, on Monday I am going away for a week's writing course which means I won't have any internet, but I should have lots and lots of time to write this (I'm currently working on something of my own which will probably be my focus on the course, but I'll put aside time for this too, I promise :D) After that, I'm off to the Lake District for a week which will mean more limited internet, but I will do my best to somehow get at least one chapter up in the next two weeks. If I don't manage it, please forgive me, I'll put one up as soon as I can when I get back!
Thanks for reading, please leave a review if you can, I really appreciate them so much :D
