Escape The Darkness

By JULES

Authors Quick Note – This story explores the idea about what might have happened if Strider had come to the Shire to forewarn Bilbo Baggins about the Ring Wraiths that would soon come hunting for the One Ring.  Commences a few days before Bilbo’s Birthday party and before Gandalf returns to the shire as well.      

This story was begun a very long time ago, and it was never my intentions to leave it unfinished.   This first was first published in 2003.  I have 12 chapters written – but want to add more to them and edit where necessary.

I will be going back through and editing a few scenes and adding to a few and fixing errors, now that I hopefully understand the Middle Earth world a little better since I first began.  I hope to add a sprinkling of "The Hobbit" details in certain places where is needed.

Real life just got in the way for a very long time and still is to a large extent. 

I was going to add more to the synopsis, but for now I will leave you to read along and find out what happens along with Frodo and the rest of the cast as I take them out of the box.  I promise to put them back when I am finished.  If you think you know what might happen throughout and the ending, hopefully I have created enough twist plots and changes.

Strong friendship only – no slash.   Very little romance (I am no good at writing that) – And plenty of angst, hurt/comfort.  For those don't know my previous work - this won't be the Disney version.

This will be a very very long story, with many chapters, and many of those being long as well – just the way I write.    And I usually try and describe from the viewpoint of multiple characters for any one scene.   As well as describe every rock, tree branch and blade of grass along the way.

I have a very complicated plot planned, and some may not agree how I have altered the course of things, or that I introduce them and Frodo differently than the books or films.  Hopefully you will continue to follow and read as the story progresses.   If it hasn't happened yet, or there isn't enough information about something yet, that is usually deliberate on my part.  Sometimes there are subtle clues that I put in chapters, other times I don't.

This story explores the idea about what might have happened if Strider had come to the Shire to forewarn Bilbo Baggins about the Ring Wraiths that would soon come hunting for the One Ring.  Commences a few days before Bilbo’s Birthday party and before Gandalf returns to the shire as well. 

There are other changes that I will deliberately make to the story at a later date to explore how the journey may have changed as a result. “Hint Hint – some big changes that were the whole reason for starting this series”.

Strider had vowed to protect Bilbo when the Ring Wraiths are sent by the Dark Lord but he is unaware that the legacy of who is to carry the Ring to be destroyed falls upon a totally different Baggins hobbit.

In this story the corn fields in the shire are a little further away and I have added a lot extra between then and when the hobbit’s arrive at the Prancing Pony in Bree.

Hoping to add a few funny, light-hearted moments in this one in between the serious stuff.

All mention of herbs or treatments used in this story or others come about from a little research I did into some and what their effects were. Some of them have been around since ancient times so I have no problem using in this time frame but still am not sure if they would have been grown near Rivendell.

Disclaimer -  I do not own any of the characters I write about.   I write about those created by J.J.R. Tolkien and marvel at such a storytellers ability to enthral us all.   There are occasional quotes from the movie in this story, just to keep the continuity going strong and to add just at the appropriate time.

the story begins: 

Chapter One: 

the story begins:  Unexpected Introductions

Under the cover of nightfall, the cloaked Ranger took a brief rest on the top of the grass covered ridge he had ascended a few moments before.  A full moon allowed him to gaze below upon some very curious buildings, with uneven but sturdy pathways that criss-crossed through and around the hills.  During the day, smoke would normally be seen rising from a few chimneys, keeping the inhabitants warm and bringing a simple sense of normality to the gentle folk that occupied within. 

Travelling west from the Brandywine river, this was the township named 'Hobbiton' Strider thought to himself.  Located within the borders of the Westfarthing and one of the larger communities that made up the central region commonly known as 'The Shire'. 

The Northern Rangers had guarded this district to ensure that it remained a peaceful and uneventful place.  Just the way that most of the gentle residents who lived there preferred it.  His watchful and alert band of men had often been granted the gift of stories, songs and legends from the hobbits that lived in this lush rural community.  Curiosity was tugging at the edges of his mind, but it was a grave matter and with a sense of urgency that had him urging his mount to move cautiously and silently under the cover of darkness towards the smials.

Strider used one hand to adjust the thick, heavy, long cloak around his shoulders and to pull it a little more tightly to shield against the chilly night air that was blowing against his neck. The second arm was hidden by the warm folds of fabric as he walked, his hand remanding within reaching distance of his ever present sword.

On the journey thus far, the man had no knowledge of any danger that may already lurking within the tight knit village.  He had learned that no matter how serene or quiet the setting,  dark times were approaching all too quickly on folk who knew nothing of the evil and greed that existed in other parts of this world.  Even now, as sweet tall scented grasses caressed his leather boots, he would need to keep his guard up against the encroaching shadows within Middle Earth.

The hour was particularly late and nobody would appreciate an unexpected visitor, Strider reminded himself, but the foreboding news that he carried could ill afford to wait.  He could no longer delay his need to speak with Bilbo Baggins.

The Ranger was able to manage and navigate the meandering paths and tracks with little trouble, in order to make his way to the outskirts of the Shire village without being detected.   The man’s footsteps along the well-laden roads of the Shire were soft enough not to disturb anybody in the houses that he had already passed.  Because of the late hour, most hobbit folk were safely tucked in their beds asleep.

Making his way towards Bagshow Row, he was pleased to note that the descriptions and directions he had been provided with were sufficient to come across the smial located on Hobbiton Hill. 

After what seemed like only a brief walk, Strider noticed that the roadway he was travelling on began to have a steep incline.  Once he was at the top, he noticed a slightly larger hobbit dwelling, nestled off the roadway a little. From where he was standing, the Ranger noted that the occupant of this dwelling would be able to see out over the rest of the Shire, but be far enough removed from the noise and chaos to enjoy a peaceful, uninterrupted existence.

Making his way closer to the hobbit dwelling, the man noted that the house wasn’t just a little larger than those he had already surveyed further down in the valley. This home was significantly larger than any other hobbit abode nearby.

Standing in front of the gateway that led to this house, Strider could see two signs that indicated that this was indeed Bilbo Baggin’s home. The first was a large bold sign on the front wall of the house that read, ‘Bag End.’

A much smaller sign, hand written and nailed to the gate itself as the Ranger went to step inside the boundary read, ‘No Visitors – Except for Party Business’

Strider knew that Bilbo was an elderly eccentric hobbit who was particularly fond of his own company and preferred to be left alone with his books, journals and maps.   Approaching the round green front door and knocking twice as loud as he dared.  He didn’t know if Bilbo would be asleep or as his desk, writing well into the morning hours and he often was known to do.

inside the house:

Bilbo had actually retired to his bed approximately an hour ago, before he heard what sounded like someone knocking at the front door.  At first he was minded to just roll over and go back to sleep.   Grumbling a little at ‘unannounced visitors’ at all hours.

After a few more louder poundings on the door, and it became quite clear that whoever the late hour visitor was, they were not going to simply go away by ignoring them.  Concern for someone other than himself quickly entered his mind as he thought about his young charge, Frodo, who was asleep in his bedroom down the hall from the front door.

Bilbo whispered to himself as he quickly gathered his robe and vowed to stop the incessant knocking before Frodo was awoken.

“I am coming, I am coming,” Bilbo declared as loud a voice as he dared, tying the belt around his deep red robe. He looked briefly in the direction of Frodo’s room, but noted it still to be dark.  No noise could be heard from where he stood and so thankfully he could assume that the younger hobbit had slept through undisturbed.

“What is it at this hour?” Bilbo demanded as he undid the locks and opened the large round door a small crack. He almost stumbled backward in his surprise at the face that greeted him.

“I must say, you are a cranky little hobbit when you are so rudely awoken,” Strider challenged with a warm grin and a friendly handshake to the small hand reaching out to his own.

“Aragorn, what, pray tell, brings you to these lands on this night?” the greying hobbit questioned, stepping aside, and opening the door a littler wider and gesturing with his hand to the man to come into his home.

“Quickly, come in before someone sees you,” Bilbo warned.  “Mind your head on that ceiling, my good fellow,” pleased to see the man take heed of his words and duck his head as he entered.

Bilbo took the precaution of looking outside into the darkness of the night, trying to spot if anybody had seen the Ranger arrive or heard the knocking at the door. Inwardly he sighed in relief when he couldn’t hear anything but the chilly breeze outside.

Closing the door, Bilbo composed himself enough to surmise what sort of rumours would be spread around Hobbiton if one of the big-folk were to be spotted in the Shire in the middle of the night.

“Forgive my manners, please come,” Bilbo now said, leading the man out of the front entrance, through the parlour and into the kitchen. “You would be wanting something hot to drink I imagine,” he insisted, and went about putting a pot of water on to boil before the Ranger had even had a chance to reply.

“I am deeply sorry for the late hour of my calling, Bilbo,” Strider apologized as he gazed about the cosy home. From outside, nobody would ever dream of what sights and aromas would be waiting on the inside. The kitchen was richly scented with many herbs from earthenware jars that were resting upon a shelf near the fireplace.

The rooms were quite larger than expected, with plenty of room for a hobbit or three.  A little small perhaps for a man-sized person like himself.   In many ways, no doubt that the same space could be seen as comfortable and open to someone of Bilbo’s size.

“Please take a seat, Aragorn,” Bilbo requested with a flourish of activity around the table as a teapot was made ready and a loaf of bread and plate of cheese was kindly offered.

He was facing the wrong way to see the look on the Ranger’s face when he uttered the man's other name out loud.  Strider had not yet corrected the aging hobbit, but he would need to speak to Bilbo about not using that name around these parts.

“You must be weary after your journey,” Bilbo guessed, trying to ease the obvious tension that saturated the room.  Rangers did not just visit the Shire upon a whim or without purpose.  “I would offer you a spare room in my humble home for as long as you intend staying,” he added.  This hobbit was no fool.  Deep down, he knew that one of the big-folk would not have ventured per chance into this township at night. 

“Thank you, and I will take up your offer, for one night or two,” Strider nodded with gratitude. He knew that he would soon need to be leaving this place. There was no set time for when the dark forces may begin emerging into these tranquil lands or descending upon those least unprepared.

“Does your horse need tending to and bedding down for the night?” the hobbit questioned, knowing the mode of transport that the ranger would have used.

“I appreciate your generosity, but I left my horse in a secured location just outside of Hobbiton.  I did not think it wise for your folk to see such a large animal in these parts,” Strider answered.

Bilbo turned away from the fireplace with a steaming teapot in both hands, pouring the steeping brew and handing the Ranger a cup of the piping hot liquid.  A thickly folded square of fabric covered his hands, protecting them from the heat of the steam, but causing a little fumbling with his cup and saucer. 

The elderly hobbit finding it difficult to conceal his unease and nervousness which was multiplying by the minute.  “Let us move into the living room where we will be more comfortable,” he invited. 

The man's facial expression did not give away any indication that he sensed all was not well, but perhaps it was the intuition that Bilbo had inherited from the Took side of the family that caused him to be a little more wary and cautious.

“Sit here, Ranger,” Bilbo fussed as he straightened the plump velvet cushions on the large chair, and removed a stack of drawings and charts to allow his guest to take up the vacant spot.

Strider was quite amused with the small hobbit's mutterings, 'I was looking for those last week to show Frodo', scarcely aware that he speaking loud enough to be heard.

“I am afraid that my housework has not exactly been up to the highest standard of late,” Bilbo apologised, disappearing for a moment back in the direction of the kitchen and returning with a large decorated tin box.  With the lid open, the Ranger was tempted by several more different types of biscuits and tasty morsels.

Discretely squirming slightly, the man did notice that the chair was a little too cramped on the sides, but he did not want to voice any complaint.  Not all of Bilbo's home was furnished or decorated with furniture that would hold the weight of a big person. 

Travelling for many days on limited water and food rations, any respite was now welcomed with humble gratitude and thanks. The ground amongst the trees had been his pillow for the past three nights in a row.  The Ranger could scarcely remember what it would feel like to sleep in a bed, inside later on tonight.

A few more minutes of shelving away papers and books that had been left out, and the stout hobbit was ready to sit down and talk to his unexpected guest.  Bilbo took up a position in his own favourite faded and comfortably padded armchair, leaning forward so as to keep their voices subdued.

At first, there was no conversation between the two at all. The fire crackled and burned, giving light and warmth, but the room felt incredibly warm and cosy at the moment to Bilbo as he played nervously with the inside of his pocket.  He withdrew his hand and picked up the teacup and saucer, sipping at the hot liquid.

The Ranger refrained from speaking about the true reason for visit for a few more minutes, though he suspected that he would not be able to for long.  No doubt, his more than generous host was more than a little intrigued about his sudden arrival and his presence this night.

“How does the Shire fair these days, Bilbo.  Any news to speak of?” the Ranger casually inquired.  Knowing that he personally, and his men deliberately invested a lot of time, effort and man power to knowing what was going on within the borders of these sweet green lands, as much as possible at all times.

Bilbo paused before giving an answer, knowing that there had been a very large change to Bag End itself since the man was a guest in his home.  That change was only a few rooms away and for the past several hours, sleeping peacefully in his bed.   Bilbo had yet to reveal the presence of the one thing in the Shire that kept his old spirit young at heart and nourished his aging soul, Frodo.

“News, in the Shire, hardly!” Bilbo scoffed at the notion indeed.  “You would find more goings-on where you have come from, before any folk here in these parts.  Unless it was about the harvest next month and how big the pumpkins are expected to reach this year.”

“Tidings have reached me from much further afield, from Lord Elrond in Rivendell,” Strider hinted, bringing up the one place well-known to the hobbit.  The man pleased to see that the aging hobbit was beginning to relax and his curiosity stirring upon hearing the mention of a place with such special significance and memory to him. 

“You have been home then!” Bilbo exclaimed, exuberance written across his hopeful face.  The teacup set aside on a nearby table as he focused on anything that was about to cross the Ranger's lips.

Regretfully the Ranger saw some of that expression fall away at his next words, “Alas not for a very long time, but his messengers have found me when it has become absolutely necessary.” 

For the next several minutes, they did speak, of Lord Elrond and the elves that were living there.  Time passed for them very differently to other races of Middle Earth, tales and songs about their environment and surroundings and living things were endless and ageless.

As the light-hearted conversation continued, the topic changed to things that had happened or changed since the hobbit’s last visit.  Unfortunately that visit had been so very long ago and Bilbo’s soul was beginning to feel very tormented and heavy for fear of not seeing the wonderful place again.

Bilbo knew that within him, there was an unmistakable and undeniable yearning to seek peace and solitude from other places, for the remainder of his days.  He silently admonished himself, knowing that he had been deliberately keeping these feelings from those dearest to him for far too long, stealing a glance towards the central hallway, and picturing Frodo’s closed bedroom door.___________________________________________________________________________________________

All the time Strider and his host, Bilbo spoke, they were unaware of a few quiet footsteps that approached them from behind ………………………..

Outside, the quiet of the night continued towards the early hours before dawn.  Within Bag End, the glowing embers of the low burning fire kept those inside in the parlour room warm and comfortable.

When the Ranger had first knocked on the door, Bilbo’s young charge, Frodo had been on the cusp of sleep.  Tonight he had been reading much later than usual, and had only just put the book away that he had been reading.   The persistent knocking on the front door had done what the elderly hobbit had feared, and had prevented him from drifting off entirely. 

Opening his eyes he laid quietly, trying to listen to the various noises, Frodo was brought fully out of his slumber further by the continual shuffling from his uncle meandering from his own room towards the front door.  At first the young hobbit thought that Bilbo must have been headed towards the kitchen.  Frodo had just been about to get up himself when he heard the cranky mutterings of his dear old uncle coming out of his room.  

A number of sharp, loud knocks at the door made him startle, the sound came a second and third time, causing him to fully sit up in bed.  He heard his uncle demand to know who was at the door at such a time.  From that point onward, Frodo only heard whispered voices and more than one person walking about.  He could distinguish that some of the footsteps belonged to Bilbo, but there was a second set of distinct, heavier footsteps upon the wooden floor.

The young hobbit was convinced that it was time to find out for himself who had entered their home.   Dressing in a warm blue velvet robe, he quietly opened the door to this room and tiptoed out along one of the corridor’s towards the kitchen.   He paused though as the voices seemed to be coming from a different room of the smial now:  the living room.

The young hobbit was worried that his uncle might have been in danger from the late night visitor.  He didn’t quite know if he would be able to defend himself and Bilbo, but Frodo had enough courage in him to try if it became necessary.

Frodo moved as close as he dared, not wanting to intrude on the conversations between his uncle and the stranger.   He could make out the visitor from where he was standing and almost gasped out aloud in surprise when he noted how big this man seemed to be. 

Frodo had been told a long ago, by Bilbo, about the race of men.  He had been fortunate enough a few years back, to see a group of men from a distance.  Up this close, their size was certainly more surprising than any tale, and a sight to behold.   The man inside his home was sitting down, but even now he was a good deal taller than anybody else Frodo had seen first-hand within the boundaries of the Shire.

This fellow’s features were hidden somewhat by the darkness of the living room.  It was only when the fire crackled brightest that Frodo could just make out the shape of his face, the eyes appearing to look right back at him.  The man’s voice not as harsh as he may have expected and sounding deeper when he spoke.

“You have many things to tell me Ranger, I can see them in your eyes,” Bilbo urged, with a hint of curiosity in the tone of his voice.  Although their last meeting had been quite some time ago, he knew the man well enough that he was not one to dance around with his words. 

The man sighed, realising that this astute hobbit would see through his thin veil, “In a message meant only for me, he shared a brief and shadowy vision he experienced, concerning the Shire.  An evil presence approaching, but he could not determine its true nature.”

Bilbo sat back in his chair, a furrow forming on his brow as he thought about what he had just heard.  An idle hand reaching into the pocket of his vest and secretly caressing its contents, just as it so often did on many other occasions.   “Did he add anything further?” the hobbit asked cryptically after a few minutes.  

“Lord Elrond’s desire was for me to visit this area, at the first available opportunity, and make sure that the Shire and all inhabitants continue to live in harmony as they have done for a long time,” Strider explained.   But it was the Ranger’s careful choosing of words and lack of real substance that caused Bilbo to raise an eyebrow in silent question.

The Master of Rivendell did not reveal his visions very often, nor the nature of any message contained within.  The fact that he had done so, and sought out Strider in particular, and sent him in person, bought up some very weighing questions indeed.

“You know you may have to make plans and leave this place, and soon Bilbo Baggins,” Strider stated plainly.

“Yes I know, I have already made preparations for such a journey, but there are a lot more to make,” Bilbo said, not realising that somebody else had heard these words.

Frodo threw himself back against a wall where he couldn’t be seen as he listened to his uncle’s words.  His heart was beating inside his small chest like it was ready to explode.   His eyes were as widened and held a stricken look as they began welling up with unshed tears at the thought that his beloved uncle was going away from Hobbiton. 

The young hobbit had still not made his presence known to Bilbo and Strider.  With a heavy heart, and a swell of mixed emotions inside, he sought the sanctuary of his bedroom.  Flinging himself onto the bed and continuing to decipher all he had overheard. 

Bilbo wandering away from Bag-End, for varying lengths of time was certainly no secret, even since he had been living here in the Shire.  And the purposes of his impromptu journeys were not always clear either.  But he had always returned, bringing back as many stories on his travels and sometimes wonderful and unique pieces from the peoples that he visited.

It wasn’t until the very early hours of the morning that Frodo had fell into a light sleep.  Many thoughts had been racing through his head as he tried to think of a reason why his Uncle was leaving the Shire.   Would Frodo find himself being left alone ??  Would he be travelling with Bilbo?   His Uncle certainly hadn’t discussed travelling anywhere in the past few months, or a desire to visit any place in particular.

Amidst his contemplations and speculations, Frodo promised himself that he would not let his dear Uncle Bilbo, leave without him knowing about it, where to or why.  The young hobbit would watch closely for any signs that Bilbo displayed. 

These same wee hours of the morning, Bilbo and Strider could be found quietly finishing their conversation by the fireplace in the parlour.   The two of them still had much to talk about, but would wait until they were a little more rested to continue speaking further about such matters. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________

the next morning: 

The day had started early for Samwise Gamgee and his Gaffer.   Fresh crisp blue skies and a light breeze gently teasing leaves as they danced about in the sunshine.   Just the right time the two had wanted to finish getting Master Bilbo’s garden ready for the big celebration that was fast approaching.

The next few days would be busy with preparing the feast, tents, tables and chairs that would be needed for guests, so after today there would be little time for gardening pleasures until afterwards.  Hamfast Gamgee also wanted to make sure that Bilbo would have the freshest produce from the vegetable patch for the dishes that his lasses and other ladies of Hobbiton needed to prepare.

Gaffer had told his son that he needed to head back to their shed and gather a few more tools that he required for the day’s work.  Sam nodded in acknowledgement and told his father that he would be diligently tending to the smaller flower beds around the house.   More particularly, directly under the kitchen window Sam said secretly to himself.

Sam wanted to be able to see when his master Frodo was awake.  From the window he would be able to hear the young hobbit once he entered the kitchen for breakfast.  He took a forked hand trowel and whilst supporting himself on his hand and knees, began loosening the soil around the flowers.    The household inside was still quiet and he wasn’t of a mind to wake any of the occupants before they were ready to rise on their own.

Samwise was unaware that there had been a midnight visitor to Bag End.

Strider had only slept for a few hours, but was now seated in a corner of the kitchen that was perhaps a little darker than the rest of the room.  Weariness had allowed him to sleep initially, but after that, his body had begun to feel particularly cramped from sleeping on a bed.  Sleeping outdoors had become the normal accommodation for the past several months  .

He managed to boil himself a cup of tea and sat silently whilst he sipped the hot liquid, pondering what the day would ensue for Bilbo Baggins.   His stay within the Shire would have to brief as he would soon need to make haste and travel quickly to meet up again with his band of Rangers.

Bilbo was still sleeping soundly after he and the Ranger had bid each other goodnight.  It was doubtful that the old hobbit would stir for another hour or more yet. 

However, Frodo Baggins, of whom Strider had no knowledge of yet so far, was just beginning to awake from his sleep.  Frodo reached up and rubbed at his eyes that seemed a little puffy and tired this morning, no doubt to a few snatched hours of sleep.   For a short time, the young hobbit temporarily forgotten all about any stranger arriving in the dead of night or any of Bilbo’s talk of leaving the Shire.  Upon waking he had little recall of any of the events and conversations that had unfolded the night before. 

Frodo rose from his bed, washing his face in a bowl of water, trying to rid himself of an unusual heaviness that he seemed to be carrying on his shoulders this morning.  He dressed as he would have any other day and headed out to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

Frodo walked into the kitchen, but from where he stood beside the stove, the Ranger’s presence was still cloaked in shadows.  He went about his tasks, unaware that he was being curiously watched from behind.

Strider was surprised by the appearance of the young hobbit in the kitchen this morning.   He didn’t know who he was, but his attention seemed to be drawn to the lad for a reason that he couldn’t explain.

Bilbo had not mentioned that he shared his accommodations with anybody when they had spoken a few hours ago.  Perhaps the lad was just a helper or assistant of some kind to the old hobbit.   Bilbo was getting on in age and maybe this lad helped out with some of the household chores that were necessary.

Outside in the garden, Samwise had a smile appear on his face as he recognized the tell-tale sounds of his master being in the kitchen.   He stood up, watching from the window but had yet to greet Frodo, completely forgetting about the flowerbeds for a few minutes.  He had no idea of the chaos and confusion that was about to ensue.

Frodo had boiled the water in the kettle sufficiently for his morning tea.  He was of a mind to cook some breakfast too, but chose to wait a little longer for food.  Tea was something he had enjoyed for a very long time, warming him when he felt cold and leaving a feeling of comfort and contentment inside.

Frodo reached into one of the earthenware jars that was beside the fireplace and sprinkled a few dried, crushed leaves into the water, standing back and allowing them to infuse.   The aroma was both stimulating and welcoming to the senses first thing in the morning.

Strider decided that it would be best to let the young hobbit know of his presence.  Though he was quite unprepared for the reaction he would extract from Frodo.

Frodo held his freshly made cup of tea in a saucer and was gently carrying both to the small table in the centre of the room when voice addressed him out of nowhere.

“Hello there young hobbit,” Strider greeted Frodo, keeping his voice gentle, so as not to startle the lad.   Unfortunately though, the damage had already been done.

“Ahhhh,” Frodo exclaimed in fright at the stranger.  He stumbled back, spilling the hot scalding tea over his hand.  The cup and saucer fell to the floor and smashing into a number of larger pieces and small shards.  

“Forgive me, I did not mean to scare you so,” Strider apologized as he rose from the chair he sat on and attempted to approach the hobbit.  He had seen the lad grimace at the pain the hot water had caused.

But Frodo’s fright only escalated exponentially as he realised that the stranger in the room was a big person.   The man’s height was imposing, making Frodo back away as far as he could, but alas his escape was abruptly halted by the wall behind him.

“Help,” Frodo called out, barely above a whisper due to the absence of his voice.

He pondered making an effort to further shield himself underneath the kitchen table.  Maybe the lower vantage point would benefit with the stranger being unable to reach him so easily.

“Bilbo !” Frodo shouted, much louder this time, before dropping down to the floor on his hands and knees and scampering across the short distance.   He winced at feeling a stinging sensation to a few places on his knees from the broken cup and saucer.  Having reached the safety he sought under the table, he cradled his scalded hand protectively tucking it against his chest.

Strider was bending over and reaching underneath the table, talking soothingly to the young hobbit, appearing to be hurt and afraid of him.   Somehow things had not gone as he had planned and he blamed himself for the young one’s pain and fright.  He had to make amends quickly.

Bilbo had yet to emerge from his room, the old hobbit’s sleep not being fully disturbed, and only stirring slightly as Frodo uttered called out for help.  

Samwise, had heard his master’s plea, and had no hesitation at all, climbing up and scrambling through the slightly open window to come to Frodo’s aid. 

“Stay back, stay back!” Frodo exclaimed in alarm as he tried to curl in on himself, and away from the outstretched hand of the stranger that was coming closer and closer to him.

“I am not here to hurt you,” Strider promised in a soft voice, trying to avoid any further distress.  Finally managing to grasp a hold on the young hobbit’s shirt sleeve and trying to pull him out from underneath the table, to see how badly hurt he was.

“No!   Let me go!” Frodo demanded as he reached up trying to pry loose the tightening grip on his clothes.

By now, Sam was fully in the room and ready to help his master from the unknown stranger.  The sandy-haired hobbit swallowed slightly as he looked at Frodo’s assailant and noted that he was one of the big-folk.  The man was very tall.   Much taller than anybody Sam had encountered before.  Although, Master Bilbo had mentioned them in his stories and tales.

Sam soon swallowed his own fear as he heard Frodo call out once more, ‘to leave him alone’.   Big-folk or not, this man was not going to hurt Frodo.

Strider, still slightly bent over as he held a twisting and wriggling Frodo, out in front of him, trying to assess his injuries.  The man was not prepared for the sharp sting of pain that resulted as Sam’s trusty forked trowel was now dug into his backside.

“Ow!,” Strider yelled as he whirled around to see what had struck him.   When he looked behind, he was not able to immediately see the reason for his pain.

Sam’s small, stocky body was shadowed by his own larger frame.

The sting had made him loosen his grip on Frodo’s shirt, but as he turned back to look at the young hobbit, he noted the paleness of the little one’s face.  He could see the boy was swaying slightly on his feet and didn’t look too well at all.

Strider attempted to readjust the hold he had on the young hobbit, to prevent him falling to the floor, but his actions only seemed to make things worse.  His hands had made a more of a pushing motion towards Frodo rather than preventing him from escaping.

Frodo felt the slight push, but with his unsteady stance, fell backwards towards the floor with an audible moan.   The groan was quickly replaced by a fresh yelp of pain as he had tried to stop himself falling and using his injured hand to support his weight.   The hand was now stinging and reddening from the hot water, as Frodo looked up with confusion and pain in his eyes.

Sam’s indignation had grown, watching the stranger push his master over onto the floor.  The man had already scared the young hobbit and had tried to bring harm on him.  He was not about to let the man’s actions go unanswered.

Once again he thrust his garden trowel towards Strider’s backside, this time with a little more strength behind it.

“Ow!”, Strider repeated, a hand quickly rubbing at the pained area as he felt another assault on his body.  This time his hand snaked up and caught a hold of the collar of the responsible party.

By now, Bilbo had heard the various cries of pains and shouts coming from his small kitchen.   When he came out of his bedroom, he was greeted with an unbelievable scene before him.

Frodo was still sitting on the floor, clasping his injured hand up and under his shirt, with broken pieces of crockery surrounding him.

Strider was standing in front of Frodo, and struggling in the Ranger’s grip, threatening trying to swipe at the man with his garden tool, was Samwise Gamgee.   Strider was careful enough to hold Sam just out far enough to prevent anything else happening.

“Good morning, Strider,” Bilbo greeted in an amused tone of voice.  “I see you already have everything under control,” he challenged, seeing the displeasure of the Ranger.  

Bilbo bent down to Frodo and started talking soothingly to his young charge as he carefully began assessing the damage.

TO BE CONTINUED……………..

This story might take a few different courses – hopefully a lot people will be able to follow easily enough.  The plot might become a little more complicated once it gets going.

Going to crawl back to one of my more familiar fandoms for a little while before updating this one to see how people like it.

Enjoy and please let me know what you think.