Holiday to Remember 1/4, rated PG13 (gen)
Nov. 24th, 2008 03:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603Title: A Holiday to Remember
Rating: PG13
Pairing: None
Summary: When Frodo and Merry agree to do a job for a couple of strange men in return for a holiday to Minas Tirith, they get more than they bargained for…
Based on the National Geographic show “Locked Up Abroad”. Do I really need to warn for AU? Pretty obvious by the premise, I would think! :D
A/N: I realize that Merry is 15 years younger than Frodo in book canon, but in this story, I'm just going to say that Merry's approximately five years younger than Frodo here (consider it closer to movie canon, lol).
A/N2: This story is divided into 4 parts. If you don't like angst or jailed!hobbits, skip part 3. Part 4 is very short.
Before the two strangers entered the Prancing Pony, a melancholy shadow had fallen over Frodo‘s heart. The next morning he and Merry were to return home to their decidedly non-adventurous life in the Shire. While the Shire was fine and good and it was home, the trip to Bree had not been quite the adventure that Frodo had hoped for. He wasn’t really sure what he had hoped for, but now that the trip was over, he felt somewhat let down as if more was to have happened but did not.
Traveling to Bree had been Merry’s idea as a celebration of his coming of age. The two cousins had enjoyed a week of new experiences. They had made acquaintances, Big and Little, of the Breefolk, most of whom were eager to talk to Shire hobbits. They had shopped at the market and picked up a variety of exotic spices and fabrics. They had also indulged plenty in Butterbur’s ale, which, while not quite as good as the ale at the Green Dragon, thoroughly contributed to a fulfilling holiday.
Frodo and Merry now sat in the Common Room and sipped the ale and nibbled on bread and cold meats. A fire crackled in the hearth, the aroma of rabbit stew permeated the room, and there was much laughter and merriment.
“This has been a grand week, has it not?” Merry took a swig of his ale. He wiped his mouth with visible satisfaction.
“I’m glad you convinced me to leave the Shire,” Frodo said. “Strange people, different food.” He laughed. “Even the hobbits are different here.”
“The Breefolk are as queer as can be, aren’t they?” Merry agreed in a lowered voice. “I’ll never understand half of what they’re saying. Although you can bet us Brandybucks have relations here buried in these Bree hills.”
“I expect you are right.” Frodo smiled. “Now Pippin will truly regret not coming with us.”
Merry nodded. “Poor lad. Duty with Uncle Paladin came at a most inconvenient time. Perhaps we‘ll take him out of the Shire for his coming of age, too.”
Frodo grew suddenly somber. He decided to speak his mind to Merry. “Now that the week is about to end, I was rather hoping for something a bit-”
Merry raised his eyebrows. “More?”
“More,” Frodo agreed, relieved that as usual, Merry understood exactly what he meant. “Although tonight there are some intriguing people in here.” He glanced toward the back corner of the Common Room where a tall man with a hood pulled over his face sat. His muddy boots rested on a stool. Frodo lowered his voice. “Look at that man. There’s something…rather perilous about him. He is an outsider, too. Would that I had the courage to introduce myself.”
“You want to speak to the likes of him?” Merry asked. “He looks as if he’d just as soon break your neck as talk to you.”
“No, I think not.” Frodo smiled a little. “Not unless I was a goblin. He’s a wandering Ranger. They are dangerous folk, but only to those who bring danger to the land.”
“How do you know so much about him?” Merry asked.
“I asked Butterbur. He’s called Strider and he’s mistrusted in these parts. I suppose it’s only natural. Take a look at him.” Frodo took another sip of his ale. “Bree is like the Shire in a lot of ways.“ He paused a moment, looking into his mug. “Don’t you ever long for a real adventure, with just a little danger but with a bed waiting at the end of the day? Or a There and Back Again journey, like Bilbo‘s?”
“Well,” Merry said with a good-natured sniff. “I’m sorry my adventure wasn’t enough for you.”
Frodo cuffed Merry’s arm. “Don’t be a fool, Meriadoc Brandybuck. This was a grand adventure and it far exceeded expectations. Not many in the Shire have even gone this far.” He lifted his mug. “To adventures!”
Merry followed suit. “I’ll drink to that.” They both took big gulps of their ale.
They had scarcely put down their mugs when two men entered the Prancing Pony. Frodo immediately perceived that they were strangers to Bree. They looked around the Common Room with the same wariness that Frodo and Merry must have expressed their first night. These men did not look like most of the Big People of Bree. They were taller and leaner, and both of them had dark, scruffy hair. Their dark eyes had a suspicious edge to them, as if they were used to looking for or hiding from danger. Frodo wondered if they were acquainted with Strider the Ranger. However, they did not seek Strider out, and instead they took a table far from him in another dark corner.
“Why don’t we ask them if they’ll join us?” Frodo whispered.
“Are you mad?“ Merry asked. “They’re likely scoundrels! Look at how they’re hiding in those shadows.”
“But we’re safe here in the Common Room. We’ll not tell our business.”
Merry paused, studying the room as if to confirm that Frodo was right about safety in the Common Room. “Very well.”
Frodo set down his mug and made his way to the back of the room where the two men had settled with their drinks. Even after a week, Frodo was still awestruck by just how massive everything was outside the Shire. The tables, the chairs, the counters, the houses -- they all towered. This was quite a shock for Frodo, who was tall for a hobbit and accustomed to looming over most hobbits in the Shire.
“Pardon me, sirs,” Frodo said.
The men startled and looked at Frodo in wonder. It was likely that neither of them had never seen a hobbit before that night.
Frodo bowed and said, “Frodo Baggins at your service. I could not help but notice that you are visitors here in Bree. I wondered if you might want to join my cousin and I at our table. We‘re also outsiders, on holiday from the Shire.”
The two men looked at each other. They did not look friendly. Frodo felt a trifle embarrassed and a little alarmed, that perhaps he had inadvertently put himself and Merry into danger. He nearly turned away, prepared to slink back to his and Merry’s table and suggest that they just turn in for the night. But just then one of the two men offered him a grim smile. “That’s very kind of you, Master Baggins,” he said. “But come join us instead. We don’t much like crowds.”
Frodo nodded with relief. He waved Merry over, and Merry, looking quite reluctant, brought both of their ales to the men’s table. Frodo felt unfriendly eyes on him, and he glanced across the room. The Ranger that they had noticed earlier was watching them with keen interest. Frodo flinched and turned away, flushing. It was almost as if the Ranger believed that all four of them were suspicious just by merit of being outsiders.
Humph, Frodo sniffed to himself. Let him stare. He’s more of an outsider than we are.
He settled on the bench next to Merry and then turned to the men with a friendly smile. “What brings you to Bree?”
The first man, who introduced himself as Barlen, answered, “We’re here from the South on business.” He twiddled his thumbs. Frodo noticed that they were caked with dirt and that his nails looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time.
“What sort of business?” Merry asked.
“Nothing anyone here would be interested in,” Barlen said rather brusquely.
“Oh.” Frodo was a little put off by his rudeness, but he understood it was likely a cultural misunderstanding. It was normal and accepted for hobbits to pry into everyone’s business, but men from faraway lands might not like that at all. “I apologize. We did not mean to pry.”
“And we do not mean to be discourteous,” Kanat, Barlen’s partner, said in a gentler tone. “It is only that it’s somewhat secret business and there are prying ears and eyes.” He glanced toward the Ranger.
“Oh, him,” Frodo said, laughing. “He’s been giving us dirty looks all night.”
“What are you fellows doing so far from home?” Barlen asked. “The Shire’s a good way from here.”
“My cousin here has just come of age,” Frodo said, “And we decided that it was time for us both to see some of the outside world.”
“The outside world, huh?” Barlen and Kanat looked at each other. “And you have found the outside world in this little village?”
Frodo looked at them, puzzled, wondering if the men were making fun of them. “I know it’s not much, but it is an adventure for us. The Shire is quite sheltered.”
“I don’t know,” Merry said, nudging Frodo with his elbow. “I thought Bree wasn’t enough of an adventure for you.”
Barlen leaned forward across the table. “Would you fellows like to go on a real adventure?”
Frodo and Merry looked at each other. Frodo’s heart sped.
“Do you jest?” Frodo asked. He did not dare to hope that the men might be serious.
“No, I’m quite serious,” Barlen said. “I have an idea, if you’re up for it.”
“Depends on what it is,” Frodo said. He leaned toward the two men. His cheeks heated with excitement. “Bree is the farthest from home we’ve ever traveled.”
“Is anyone expecting you back home?” Kanat asked. He exchanged another meaningful look with Barlen.
Merry looked a little worried. “We were preparing to go home tomorrow morning. My ma will wonder where we are if we‘re not back in three or four days.”
“Come, let’s have your idea,” Frodo asked of the men.
“Frodo,” Merry said. “I don’t know about this.”
Barlen dropped his voice. “It’s just that we could use some help, and you look like just the sort of fellows that would be perfect for the job. Kanat and I -- we’re due to meet a friend in the grand city of Minas Tirith, far to the South in Gondor.”
“I know of Minas Tirith,” Frodo said in wonder, turning to Merry. He could scarcely catch his breath. Minas Tirith, the White City. “It’s many leagues from here. It’s a wondrous city of Men, built into a mountain near the Anduin River and under the shadow of Mount Mindoullin. And the library. Oh, Merry, Gandalf‘s told me all about the library, filled with every scroll and book that you can imagine.”
“How far away is it?” Merry said in a guarded tone.
But all thoughts of returning to the Shire had fled Frodo‘s mind. “Minas Tirith is beyond the edges of any map that you’ve ever seen. Even Bilbo hasn’t been there.”
“Aye,” Kanat said, grinning at Frodo‘s enthusiasm. “Minas Tirith is about a month’s journey if the weather stays fair.”
Barlen dropped his voice to a whisper. “Here’s what we have in mind. In Minas Tirith, in the courtyard of the Citadel, there is a dead tree.”
“I know of this tree,” Frodo said.
Kanat looked impressed. “You’ve had a fair amount of schooling for one so sheltered from the outside world.”
Barlen continued. “There’s a healing herb found only on the bark of this special dead tree. We need to get a small amount of it.”
“Why can’t you do it then?” Merry asked. Frodo kicked him under the table.
Barlen laughed. “They don’t let just anyone in the Steward‘s courtyard. The reason I say you two might be perfect for the job is that you’re small and quiet, and it will be easy for you to sneak inside and take a piece of the bark from the tree without anybody noticing.”
Frodo laughed a bit. “Are you proposing we sneak into this courtyard?” He knew his disappointment showed in his eyes. He wanted an adventure, but he did not wish to do anything lawless. “Is that not trespassing?”
Kanat and Barlen looked at each other again. Barlen sighed before he explained, “It’s not that it’s against the law, per se, but it is frowned upon. You would be questioned. It would be far more trouble to explain to the guards why two halflings from so far away need to be in the Steward’s courtyard picking at the tree. Better that they stay ignorant of it.”
“I don’t like this,” Merry said, scowling.
“Wait,” Frodo said. “Is it not against the laws of the land to tamper with this special tree? Is it guarded?”
“Barlen is wrong,“ Kanat said reluctantly. “It is against the laws. But the law is there to protect a constant assault against the tree. A little of this herb goes a long way, see, and it grows back after about a month’s time. We only come about once a year, so no harm to the tree is done. In the past we’ve used young local lads who were small enough to sneak through the hole in the gate, and there’s never yet been a problem. If you do get caught, the worst that would happen is that you’d be scolded and banished from the city.”
Merry shook his head.
Frodo asked, “But where does this herb grow on the bark?”
“You can’t be considering this,” Merry said under his breath.
Kanat smiled at Merry. “Don’t worry, little master. It is a very small thing. You merely have to take a piece of bark and sneak right back out of the courtyard. That’s all. In return, we will make certain that you enjoy a holiday beyond any you will ever experience.”
“A holiday?” Frodo asked.
“Here is what we propose,” Barlen added. “We shall take you safely to Minas Tirith. Once we arrive there, you will stay in luxurious lodgings on the sixth level of the city for a full fortnight. During that time you may enjoy the city, luxuriate in the bathes -- the best in Middle-earth outside of Umbar. And for the bookish and curious in you,” and here he glanced at Frodo, “there is a certain grand library.”
Frodo clutched Merry’s hand under the table. He knew that his eyes must betray his excitement.
Barlen went on, and his smile faded. “On the last night, you must slip into the courtyard and do your job. It should take no longer than a quarter of an hour. The next day we will leave Minas Tirith. No harm done.”
“But how shall we sneak past the guards?” Frodo asked. That part worried him. He had never done anything lawless, much less in a foreign land. But if it was a small risk, no harm done, then he would be willing to risk this small act in order to explore that library for a whole fortnight.
Barlen said, “You’re small and quiet. You’ll sneak into the courtyard during the changing of the guards. If by some foul luck you get caught, you merely plead ignorance of being from a distant land.”
Merry whispered in Frodo’s ear, “I don’t know. It seems dangerous. There are guards, Frodo. Tall guards with swords and they know how to use those swords.”
“I want to go,” Frodo said to Barlen, “But we’re uncomfortable with the sneaking part.”
Kanat looked suddenly sad. “That is a fair concern, and perhaps what I say next will ease your conscience. One of the reasons I gather this herb is for my sister. My sister suffers from a disease that leaves her in nearly constant pain. The herb from this bark is the only thing that eases it. When this herb is mixed into tea, it relieves pain. It’s far more potent even than kingsfoil. ”
Frodo and Merry looked at each other. It was for a good cause. In that case, what did a little sneaking matter? Merry looked a bit pale, but Frodo was pretty sure that he’d be able to convince him if they were alone.
“May we have some privacy to decide?” Frodo asked.
Kanat nodded. “Go on and think about it. We’ll be here for the next few hours. We‘ll leave at dawn if you decide upon coming.”
Once Frodo and Merry reached their room, Frodo paced in front of the fireplace. His cheeks burned with excitement. “Can you imagine such an adventure? So far away, far beyond where perhaps any other hobbit has traveled.”
“Does it not disturb you that they want us to steal?” Merry asked. “It makes me anxious. They’re using us, Frodo. What if these guards do more than scold us if we get caught?”
“Yes, of course the matter of stealing bark from a heavily guarded tree is a bit of a risk, but,” and Frodo bit his lip. “That will only be a small part. Likely we won‘t get caught, and if we do, the worst that will happen that we’ll be humiliated and banished from the city.” He laughed a little. “And of course the shame of having to explain to Gandalf and Bilbo.”
“Minas Tirith is so far,” Merry said. “Ma’s going to hang me for being gone for so long.”
“I know,” Frodo said ruefully. He knelt in front of the fire, rubbing his hands, more out of nerves than for warmth. “I know. But think about it. How often will we get such an opportunity?”
Merry suddenly looked determined. “All right, let’s do it.“ Frodo looked at him in surprise, and he continued. “If we do not go, we’ll always wonder, and I know you’d never stop talking about it and then you might run off on your own without me.”
Frodo looked at Merry in surprise. “I’ll never do that.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Truly.” Frodo was moved by how relieved Merry looked, and he put his arm around Merry’s shoulders. “But I’m glad that you’ll come to Minas Tirith with me. So glad.”
Go on to part 2
Rating: PG13
Pairing: None
Summary: When Frodo and Merry agree to do a job for a couple of strange men in return for a holiday to Minas Tirith, they get more than they bargained for…
Based on the National Geographic show “Locked Up Abroad”. Do I really need to warn for AU? Pretty obvious by the premise, I would think! :D
A/N: I realize that Merry is 15 years younger than Frodo in book canon, but in this story, I'm just going to say that Merry's approximately five years younger than Frodo here (consider it closer to movie canon, lol).
A/N2: This story is divided into 4 parts. If you don't like angst or jailed!hobbits, skip part 3. Part 4 is very short.
Before the two strangers entered the Prancing Pony, a melancholy shadow had fallen over Frodo‘s heart. The next morning he and Merry were to return home to their decidedly non-adventurous life in the Shire. While the Shire was fine and good and it was home, the trip to Bree had not been quite the adventure that Frodo had hoped for. He wasn’t really sure what he had hoped for, but now that the trip was over, he felt somewhat let down as if more was to have happened but did not.
Traveling to Bree had been Merry’s idea as a celebration of his coming of age. The two cousins had enjoyed a week of new experiences. They had made acquaintances, Big and Little, of the Breefolk, most of whom were eager to talk to Shire hobbits. They had shopped at the market and picked up a variety of exotic spices and fabrics. They had also indulged plenty in Butterbur’s ale, which, while not quite as good as the ale at the Green Dragon, thoroughly contributed to a fulfilling holiday.
Frodo and Merry now sat in the Common Room and sipped the ale and nibbled on bread and cold meats. A fire crackled in the hearth, the aroma of rabbit stew permeated the room, and there was much laughter and merriment.
“This has been a grand week, has it not?” Merry took a swig of his ale. He wiped his mouth with visible satisfaction.
“I’m glad you convinced me to leave the Shire,” Frodo said. “Strange people, different food.” He laughed. “Even the hobbits are different here.”
“The Breefolk are as queer as can be, aren’t they?” Merry agreed in a lowered voice. “I’ll never understand half of what they’re saying. Although you can bet us Brandybucks have relations here buried in these Bree hills.”
“I expect you are right.” Frodo smiled. “Now Pippin will truly regret not coming with us.”
Merry nodded. “Poor lad. Duty with Uncle Paladin came at a most inconvenient time. Perhaps we‘ll take him out of the Shire for his coming of age, too.”
Frodo grew suddenly somber. He decided to speak his mind to Merry. “Now that the week is about to end, I was rather hoping for something a bit-”
Merry raised his eyebrows. “More?”
“More,” Frodo agreed, relieved that as usual, Merry understood exactly what he meant. “Although tonight there are some intriguing people in here.” He glanced toward the back corner of the Common Room where a tall man with a hood pulled over his face sat. His muddy boots rested on a stool. Frodo lowered his voice. “Look at that man. There’s something…rather perilous about him. He is an outsider, too. Would that I had the courage to introduce myself.”
“You want to speak to the likes of him?” Merry asked. “He looks as if he’d just as soon break your neck as talk to you.”
“No, I think not.” Frodo smiled a little. “Not unless I was a goblin. He’s a wandering Ranger. They are dangerous folk, but only to those who bring danger to the land.”
“How do you know so much about him?” Merry asked.
“I asked Butterbur. He’s called Strider and he’s mistrusted in these parts. I suppose it’s only natural. Take a look at him.” Frodo took another sip of his ale. “Bree is like the Shire in a lot of ways.“ He paused a moment, looking into his mug. “Don’t you ever long for a real adventure, with just a little danger but with a bed waiting at the end of the day? Or a There and Back Again journey, like Bilbo‘s?”
“Well,” Merry said with a good-natured sniff. “I’m sorry my adventure wasn’t enough for you.”
Frodo cuffed Merry’s arm. “Don’t be a fool, Meriadoc Brandybuck. This was a grand adventure and it far exceeded expectations. Not many in the Shire have even gone this far.” He lifted his mug. “To adventures!”
Merry followed suit. “I’ll drink to that.” They both took big gulps of their ale.
They had scarcely put down their mugs when two men entered the Prancing Pony. Frodo immediately perceived that they were strangers to Bree. They looked around the Common Room with the same wariness that Frodo and Merry must have expressed their first night. These men did not look like most of the Big People of Bree. They were taller and leaner, and both of them had dark, scruffy hair. Their dark eyes had a suspicious edge to them, as if they were used to looking for or hiding from danger. Frodo wondered if they were acquainted with Strider the Ranger. However, they did not seek Strider out, and instead they took a table far from him in another dark corner.
“Why don’t we ask them if they’ll join us?” Frodo whispered.
“Are you mad?“ Merry asked. “They’re likely scoundrels! Look at how they’re hiding in those shadows.”
“But we’re safe here in the Common Room. We’ll not tell our business.”
Merry paused, studying the room as if to confirm that Frodo was right about safety in the Common Room. “Very well.”
Frodo set down his mug and made his way to the back of the room where the two men had settled with their drinks. Even after a week, Frodo was still awestruck by just how massive everything was outside the Shire. The tables, the chairs, the counters, the houses -- they all towered. This was quite a shock for Frodo, who was tall for a hobbit and accustomed to looming over most hobbits in the Shire.
“Pardon me, sirs,” Frodo said.
The men startled and looked at Frodo in wonder. It was likely that neither of them had never seen a hobbit before that night.
Frodo bowed and said, “Frodo Baggins at your service. I could not help but notice that you are visitors here in Bree. I wondered if you might want to join my cousin and I at our table. We‘re also outsiders, on holiday from the Shire.”
The two men looked at each other. They did not look friendly. Frodo felt a trifle embarrassed and a little alarmed, that perhaps he had inadvertently put himself and Merry into danger. He nearly turned away, prepared to slink back to his and Merry’s table and suggest that they just turn in for the night. But just then one of the two men offered him a grim smile. “That’s very kind of you, Master Baggins,” he said. “But come join us instead. We don’t much like crowds.”
Frodo nodded with relief. He waved Merry over, and Merry, looking quite reluctant, brought both of their ales to the men’s table. Frodo felt unfriendly eyes on him, and he glanced across the room. The Ranger that they had noticed earlier was watching them with keen interest. Frodo flinched and turned away, flushing. It was almost as if the Ranger believed that all four of them were suspicious just by merit of being outsiders.
Humph, Frodo sniffed to himself. Let him stare. He’s more of an outsider than we are.
He settled on the bench next to Merry and then turned to the men with a friendly smile. “What brings you to Bree?”
The first man, who introduced himself as Barlen, answered, “We’re here from the South on business.” He twiddled his thumbs. Frodo noticed that they were caked with dirt and that his nails looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time.
“What sort of business?” Merry asked.
“Nothing anyone here would be interested in,” Barlen said rather brusquely.
“Oh.” Frodo was a little put off by his rudeness, but he understood it was likely a cultural misunderstanding. It was normal and accepted for hobbits to pry into everyone’s business, but men from faraway lands might not like that at all. “I apologize. We did not mean to pry.”
“And we do not mean to be discourteous,” Kanat, Barlen’s partner, said in a gentler tone. “It is only that it’s somewhat secret business and there are prying ears and eyes.” He glanced toward the Ranger.
“Oh, him,” Frodo said, laughing. “He’s been giving us dirty looks all night.”
“What are you fellows doing so far from home?” Barlen asked. “The Shire’s a good way from here.”
“My cousin here has just come of age,” Frodo said, “And we decided that it was time for us both to see some of the outside world.”
“The outside world, huh?” Barlen and Kanat looked at each other. “And you have found the outside world in this little village?”
Frodo looked at them, puzzled, wondering if the men were making fun of them. “I know it’s not much, but it is an adventure for us. The Shire is quite sheltered.”
“I don’t know,” Merry said, nudging Frodo with his elbow. “I thought Bree wasn’t enough of an adventure for you.”
Barlen leaned forward across the table. “Would you fellows like to go on a real adventure?”
Frodo and Merry looked at each other. Frodo’s heart sped.
“Do you jest?” Frodo asked. He did not dare to hope that the men might be serious.
“No, I’m quite serious,” Barlen said. “I have an idea, if you’re up for it.”
“Depends on what it is,” Frodo said. He leaned toward the two men. His cheeks heated with excitement. “Bree is the farthest from home we’ve ever traveled.”
“Is anyone expecting you back home?” Kanat asked. He exchanged another meaningful look with Barlen.
Merry looked a little worried. “We were preparing to go home tomorrow morning. My ma will wonder where we are if we‘re not back in three or four days.”
“Come, let’s have your idea,” Frodo asked of the men.
“Frodo,” Merry said. “I don’t know about this.”
Barlen dropped his voice. “It’s just that we could use some help, and you look like just the sort of fellows that would be perfect for the job. Kanat and I -- we’re due to meet a friend in the grand city of Minas Tirith, far to the South in Gondor.”
“I know of Minas Tirith,” Frodo said in wonder, turning to Merry. He could scarcely catch his breath. Minas Tirith, the White City. “It’s many leagues from here. It’s a wondrous city of Men, built into a mountain near the Anduin River and under the shadow of Mount Mindoullin. And the library. Oh, Merry, Gandalf‘s told me all about the library, filled with every scroll and book that you can imagine.”
“How far away is it?” Merry said in a guarded tone.
But all thoughts of returning to the Shire had fled Frodo‘s mind. “Minas Tirith is beyond the edges of any map that you’ve ever seen. Even Bilbo hasn’t been there.”
“Aye,” Kanat said, grinning at Frodo‘s enthusiasm. “Minas Tirith is about a month’s journey if the weather stays fair.”
Barlen dropped his voice to a whisper. “Here’s what we have in mind. In Minas Tirith, in the courtyard of the Citadel, there is a dead tree.”
“I know of this tree,” Frodo said.
Kanat looked impressed. “You’ve had a fair amount of schooling for one so sheltered from the outside world.”
Barlen continued. “There’s a healing herb found only on the bark of this special dead tree. We need to get a small amount of it.”
“Why can’t you do it then?” Merry asked. Frodo kicked him under the table.
Barlen laughed. “They don’t let just anyone in the Steward‘s courtyard. The reason I say you two might be perfect for the job is that you’re small and quiet, and it will be easy for you to sneak inside and take a piece of the bark from the tree without anybody noticing.”
Frodo laughed a bit. “Are you proposing we sneak into this courtyard?” He knew his disappointment showed in his eyes. He wanted an adventure, but he did not wish to do anything lawless. “Is that not trespassing?”
Kanat and Barlen looked at each other again. Barlen sighed before he explained, “It’s not that it’s against the law, per se, but it is frowned upon. You would be questioned. It would be far more trouble to explain to the guards why two halflings from so far away need to be in the Steward’s courtyard picking at the tree. Better that they stay ignorant of it.”
“I don’t like this,” Merry said, scowling.
“Wait,” Frodo said. “Is it not against the laws of the land to tamper with this special tree? Is it guarded?”
“Barlen is wrong,“ Kanat said reluctantly. “It is against the laws. But the law is there to protect a constant assault against the tree. A little of this herb goes a long way, see, and it grows back after about a month’s time. We only come about once a year, so no harm to the tree is done. In the past we’ve used young local lads who were small enough to sneak through the hole in the gate, and there’s never yet been a problem. If you do get caught, the worst that would happen is that you’d be scolded and banished from the city.”
Merry shook his head.
Frodo asked, “But where does this herb grow on the bark?”
“You can’t be considering this,” Merry said under his breath.
Kanat smiled at Merry. “Don’t worry, little master. It is a very small thing. You merely have to take a piece of bark and sneak right back out of the courtyard. That’s all. In return, we will make certain that you enjoy a holiday beyond any you will ever experience.”
“A holiday?” Frodo asked.
“Here is what we propose,” Barlen added. “We shall take you safely to Minas Tirith. Once we arrive there, you will stay in luxurious lodgings on the sixth level of the city for a full fortnight. During that time you may enjoy the city, luxuriate in the bathes -- the best in Middle-earth outside of Umbar. And for the bookish and curious in you,” and here he glanced at Frodo, “there is a certain grand library.”
Frodo clutched Merry’s hand under the table. He knew that his eyes must betray his excitement.
Barlen went on, and his smile faded. “On the last night, you must slip into the courtyard and do your job. It should take no longer than a quarter of an hour. The next day we will leave Minas Tirith. No harm done.”
“But how shall we sneak past the guards?” Frodo asked. That part worried him. He had never done anything lawless, much less in a foreign land. But if it was a small risk, no harm done, then he would be willing to risk this small act in order to explore that library for a whole fortnight.
Barlen said, “You’re small and quiet. You’ll sneak into the courtyard during the changing of the guards. If by some foul luck you get caught, you merely plead ignorance of being from a distant land.”
Merry whispered in Frodo’s ear, “I don’t know. It seems dangerous. There are guards, Frodo. Tall guards with swords and they know how to use those swords.”
“I want to go,” Frodo said to Barlen, “But we’re uncomfortable with the sneaking part.”
Kanat looked suddenly sad. “That is a fair concern, and perhaps what I say next will ease your conscience. One of the reasons I gather this herb is for my sister. My sister suffers from a disease that leaves her in nearly constant pain. The herb from this bark is the only thing that eases it. When this herb is mixed into tea, it relieves pain. It’s far more potent even than kingsfoil. ”
Frodo and Merry looked at each other. It was for a good cause. In that case, what did a little sneaking matter? Merry looked a bit pale, but Frodo was pretty sure that he’d be able to convince him if they were alone.
“May we have some privacy to decide?” Frodo asked.
Kanat nodded. “Go on and think about it. We’ll be here for the next few hours. We‘ll leave at dawn if you decide upon coming.”
Once Frodo and Merry reached their room, Frodo paced in front of the fireplace. His cheeks burned with excitement. “Can you imagine such an adventure? So far away, far beyond where perhaps any other hobbit has traveled.”
“Does it not disturb you that they want us to steal?” Merry asked. “It makes me anxious. They’re using us, Frodo. What if these guards do more than scold us if we get caught?”
“Yes, of course the matter of stealing bark from a heavily guarded tree is a bit of a risk, but,” and Frodo bit his lip. “That will only be a small part. Likely we won‘t get caught, and if we do, the worst that will happen that we’ll be humiliated and banished from the city.” He laughed a little. “And of course the shame of having to explain to Gandalf and Bilbo.”
“Minas Tirith is so far,” Merry said. “Ma’s going to hang me for being gone for so long.”
“I know,” Frodo said ruefully. He knelt in front of the fire, rubbing his hands, more out of nerves than for warmth. “I know. But think about it. How often will we get such an opportunity?”
Merry suddenly looked determined. “All right, let’s do it.“ Frodo looked at him in surprise, and he continued. “If we do not go, we’ll always wonder, and I know you’d never stop talking about it and then you might run off on your own without me.”
Frodo looked at Merry in surprise. “I’ll never do that.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Truly.” Frodo was moved by how relieved Merry looked, and he put his arm around Merry’s shoulders. “But I’m glad that you’ll come to Minas Tirith with me. So glad.”
Go on to part 2