"You wish to see Fletcher?" is what Merry imagined the Peacekeeper would say, accompanied by an incredulous look.
Instead, no sign of movement came out of the guard. The material the Peacemakers' masks were made of seemed highly efficient in barring themselves from the rest of the 'guests.'
This was something Fletcher also seemed highly efficient in doing, as no sign of him could be seen since the first day they all arrived, and with a first impression as the only thing in most guests' minds, one could hardly say they were about to warm up to him.
Only the Hobbits had a half-friendly demeanor towards this man, and they hadn't yet met him, although at the moment they were attempting to do so.
Both Fletcher and the guard made no response. Pippin nudged Merry, and both looked down at the paper the had been given.
The thought only then occurred to them, upon reaching the very end of the page, that the guard might not be familiar with Westron.
This was unfortunate. They then resorted to much scheming and in the end Pippin darted forward and gave one swift kick to the door, resulting in the guard putting Pippin to an immediate headlock.
"Oh, I do not believe that necessary, thank you." Fletcher opened the door just a crack, then a bit wider as the guard hesitantly loosened his grip. "Halflings, welcome, enter." He now thrust the door open, figure disappearing as the heavy barrier gave way. Pippin, now free, entered, and a second later, so did Merry, who made a stately walk past the guard in steps both even and precise. It was said, however, that shortly after passing the guard he made a scramble to get inside and close the door quick.
"The guards are intent on fulfilling their position well. However, for them it would include focusing simply on that point and nothing else, resulting in the lack of conversation you just witnessed." Fletcher invited himself to a mahogany chair and gestured for the hobbits to the same in greenish chairs across the room. Merry felt the material and, after a moment, sunk into the chair. Whatever he was about to say, however, was cut off.
"I hope your time here has been well?" Fletcher leaned forwards, almost eagerly.
"Well, but not as satisfactory if we were back home." There was no hint of accusation in the hobbit's voice-to him, he was merely stating a fact. "The food, however…"
"Ah, yes." Fletcher smiled. "It took a while to prepare everything, but I'm happy you enjoy it. But about the language…"
"Oh, well, that's partly the reason for coming. You see, we were wondering if there were a translation guide we could use-"
"A tome or parchment-"
"something to help us a bit before we can go home." Pippin met Fletcher's gaze earnestly now. "When are we going home?"
Fletcher drew back, smile falling. "My dearest halflings, I'm afraid you can't." He continued over the hobbits' looks of confusion. "My mistake is permanent, I'm afraid."
For some reason, Merry couldn't help but feel as if something in his apologetic manner was false. Pippin unwittingly followed the same train of thought. "Can't you, or won't you, just take us back, if you don't mind my asking? You're answer's a bit unclear."
Fletcher gave an effort at smiling, but its resolve was lacking. "If I could, would I not have tried? If I could, I could have easily sent for two more of your friends, but the problem is that I cannot. It took a great deal of power that is not so easily replenished just to get two people from each place. You will never be able to go home."
The weight of it struck Pippin, and still gazing in disbelief he hunched forward in his chair, saying nothing. Fletcher however, was not finished.
"I only answered half of your question. There is a library, yes, but I feel you may wreak havoc to the shelves in searching for parchments of translation, and asking the Peacemakers is out of the question-they wouldn't respond. I'd advise against trying to find such a thing." He straightened. "Was there anything else?"
"How did you learn to speak our language?" The question blurted out of Merry, who was filling with suspicion towards his previously helpful aide.
Fletcher smiled. "With the parchments you asked about. I wrote it myself, a dictionary of sorts-not alone, mind you, there was a great deal of help. I found the original language in...well, call it a history of sorts about your world. I have the whole set of novels I used from in the library as well, although this is off limits as well. For other reasons." Fletcher gave an amused smile, although the reason for his amusement was befuddling to Merry.
Fletcher stood out of his chair. "Well then, enjoy your stay. If you have questions, ask, but I won't talk often. I've been busier as of late and won't find the time to do so. The basic words that I gave you should help you enough to get around." He held each of the hobbits' hands in his, bidding Pippen and Merry farewell. Then he went behind them and softly pushed them to the door. Before leaving, a still-dazed Pippin cocked his head.
"In your language, what is 'book?' The word."
Fletcher's lip quirked up. "Book."
"Bouk?"
"Book."
Pippen grinned. "Thanks." The door slid open, and out the hobbits were ushered with a final word of "Don't go poking around with the 'books', mind you, I've made myself clear."
"Pippin, I'd like to have a word with you-"
"Oh, I'd like to have a few as well. let's discuss."
"Where?"
"While we go exploring. I'm keen on finding this book."
"Pippin..." Although Merry's trust in Fletcher was swayed, he still had some uncertainty as to going in unknown places. He thought for some excuse. "If people watch us gallivanting around speaking in strange languages-"
"That's my point! No one understands us yet. We'd best use it while we can."
...
Before the war, Katniss spent most of her time shooting arrows. During the Hunger Games, she shot arrows. Now in this strange silver place, she found arrows, tucked away in a massive room not unlike the one where tributes trained before heading off to die. Guns, knives, bows, swords, axes, javelins, and so many more weapons were displayed around the room that she almost shuddered to think what could happen in the wrong situation.
You're in a pretty bad situation right now, she thought. Like many other thoughts, she shook this one off with a distinctive thud. Another arrow had hit the target-not in the bull's-eye, per se, but exactly where she had wanted it to go.
The thought wouldn't leave her; instead, it continued. You need to get out of here.
How?
"I don't know," she muttered. "These aren't my favorite games to play."
Doesn't mean you don't have experience.
Thud.
Katniss decided that weapons weren't the best to hold while arguing with herself. She set the bow back on it's rack, placed the arrows on the target to the quiver she had used, and paused, fingering the stiff leather, before returning the quiver where it belonged.
I'll be back for you.
It was a thought she could agree with.
...
"It's infuriating. The leader hasn't even spoken to us. I won't stand for this."
"You don't stand for many things, Octavian."
"This is unacceptable." Octavian paced the hallway while Reyna sat on the carpet, head in one hand, displaying the air of boredom.
"You are wearing down the carpet."
"Carpets were meant to be walked on." Octavian looked at her, exasperated, then slowed. "Fine, you just sit there while I think of a way for both of us to get out of here."
"I can think without standing." She took out the cricks in her neck, then rested her head in her other hand. "Besides, you are making a scene."
...
Fletcher decided that the Hobbits were curious but complying, which would be a mistake on his part. Aside from this he figured that the half a week he'd let the kids be improved nothing. Most stayed by themselves, in their rooms, and rarely ventured out-except for Katniss, which he'd expected. The few that did explore didn't explore far.
It's time I'd have quickened the pace, he thought, staring from the left-where his maps lay-to the right, where an orange fire burned. Sociability is an excellent trait to own.
He mentally counted the days they'd stayed in his quarantine.
Came on a Wednesday.
Woke on a Thursday.
Today is a Saturday, not that anyone's noticed but you. They have to start talking at this point, but at what rate? Not one you want to afford, although you probably could.
.
I'll wait until Monday. Then we'll begin.
...
Hi guys, I'm back. I'm so sorry; I've been away for such a long time! I'll try to update more quickly on this since we've finally reached the point where exposition and rising action are merging together (and I need to include more of the characters, haha...).
So I did have a bit of English-Westron crossing up there, and as only more of it will come in chapters future, I was wondering how it should go. Currently I was thinking of just putting everything the hobbits say in italics when they're speaking in their language while other people are speaking in English. That way you could understand what both of the groups are saying, although neither of them would be able to.
Also, if any of you were wondering, Octavian was the 'sharp-nosed blonde' last chapter who gave the Hobbits a hard time.
Alright, so in order, this was a smattering of Lord of the Rings (by J.R.R. Tolkien), which I'll mostly be referring to as Lotr in the author's notes from now on, Hunger Games (by Suzanne Collins), and Heroes of Olympus (by Rick Riordan).
...
Helpful Fandom Lore (for those not familiar with certain fandoms or series):
LOTR: Hobbits, also known as Halflings, speak a language called Westron (or some variation of it) which is the commonly used language in Middle-earth (it could be compared with how English stands in our international society today). Hobbits are also very short and peaceable creatures who like to eat and smoke (think elongated, thinner Sherlock Holmes pipes, not cigarettes). Although generally against adventures, Pippin and Merry are an exception. The series is good old-fashioned fantasy.
Heroes of Olympus: There are two camps of 'half-bloods,' Roman and Greek. Octavian and Reyna are on the Roman side.
Hunger Games: This fanfiction is a Hunger Games crossover. Hopefully you know this series' plot!
Maze Runner: Plot- essentially a bunch of teenage kids come through an elevator to a glade to fend for themselves until (spoilers) they find they're in a test run by a group called WICKED. Chuck's the youngest of the group. I personally dislike the series, but don't let my opinion stop you from trying it out!
Divergent: Tris and Tobias are dating, and the series is kind of a mix of Hunger Games, Rogue One, and betrayal. Tobias' nickname is 'Four'.
...
I think that's it so far (including past chapters). If I got something wrong up there, feel free to let me know, and thanks for reading! Have a fantastic day.
(Wow that was a long author's note.)