[Child of the 7th Age]

Frodo came slowly up the steps of the Dragon with one hand fastened tightly on the bannister and the other clinging to a sturdy walking stick Maura had yanked down for him from the limb of a nearby beech. He had left his pony behind with Cami so she could use it to bring one of the children home.

The frustrating part was that, in a day or two, his ankle would be perfectly fine. But right now he'd only be in the way if he tried to ride along with the band and take part in the general assault on the plantation. There was certainly no way for him to wield a sword effectively when he could barely make it home by putting one foot in front of the other.

Despite the other hobbits' assurances that he had already done his share by going out on his own to face Ferny, Frodo felt deeply disappointed. He limped wearily inside the Inn up the corridor to the room which he and Bilbo shared. Standing in the hallway just outside the door, Frodo could make out the muffled sound of voices sparring angrily back and forth. Bilbo was ranting and fuming, his words underscored with tones of worry; the other voice in the room sounded vaguely familiar to Frodo, but it was hard to place.

The door was unlatched. Frodo turned the handle and walked inside, immediately going over to Bilbo to give him an affectionate hug. The frail figure stood up and glared. "I don't know whether to cry with tears of joy or give you a piece of my mind. Whatever got into your head? Everyone downstairs was talking about how you were going off by yourself to fight Ferny. I didn't know if you were alive or dead."

Frodo smiled gently and draped his arm over Bilbo's stooping shoulders, "Don't believe everything you hear. I didn't quite go off on my own. Halfred led his deputies and a band of volunteers over to the spot where Ferny had said I should go. They hid in the bushes and tall undergrowth, springing out at the last minute to attack. Mithadan was there, and he made sure I was safe."

"But you've hurt yourself," Bilbo countered pointing down at his nephew's leg.

"It's nothing. Just a sprain. Mithadan tossed me behind him for protection and I ended up falling down and twisted my ankle. Not a very noble story I'm afraid. I wanted to go on to help rescue the children but..." Frodo sighed and let the last idea go unfinished.

"Well, in any case you're safe." Bilbo responded with gruff affection. "And with no thanks to you, I might add." The old man turned to the corner and frowned at a willowy shaded figure who'd stood warily at the side of the room until this juncture.

Lorien sauntered up to Bilbo, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. "You see. I told you. Everything's fine. There was no need to do anything."

Bilbo's face turned red; his veins bulged out at the side of his temple. He looked as though he might start shouting again when Frodo intervened, walking directly up to Lorien and speaking, "Whatever happened to me is not that important. But there are a band of hobbits out there risking their lives to try and save Pio's twins and the other children."

"Bilbo's right. You must do something. You brought us here. None of this might have happened except Ferny was still angry over what took place at the Scouring. It was my presence that stirred all this up. Bilbo and I trusted you. You owe something to those children and to those going to help them."

Lorien narrowed his eyes and peered back at the small hobbit, "Just what do you expect me to do? Get on a horse and fly over to Bree."

"I don't know. You can answer that better than I can. But you must do something."

Lorien drummed looked out the window and drummed his fingers against the window ledge. "I don't know. I'll think about it."

With that the tall figure walked out of the room and disappeared down the hallway in the direction of the back courtyard.



********************************************

It was still dark when Stoatie blearily opened his eyes and stared around the room. For a moment nothing came into focus; he could not remember where he was or why he had come here. Then it hit him. He was still closeted in Ferny's private lair where he'd been sampling his personal stock of liquor, enjoying the soft cushions of the easy chair, and chowing down on a generous haunch of venison.

Almost instinctively, Stoatie lurched to his feet and peered suspiciously around the room. If Boss had seen him lolling about here, he would not have been pleased. As much as Ferny relied on Old Stoatie, there was still a definite boundary between them. Boss was Boss, and Stoatie was Stoatie, and never the two should meet.

Stoatie stumbled out the door mumbling a question to one of the guards who was supposed to be on duty. "Where's Ferny? He should be here."

"Dunno'," muttered the man, shrugging his shoulders and reaching deep inside his pocket to retrieve a generous flask of ale which he promptly began to chug down.

This time Stoatie raised his voice, "What time is it? How long have I been here?"

The fellow groggily eyed him, then looked away and started to ramble off. Stoatie's response was immediate and angry. "I was talkin' to yuh. I want an answer."

This time he got an answer. "Dunno'. Boss ain't here. It's been a couple o'hours since you came in with the brats."

'A couple o' hours?' How could that be? Ferny was supposed to get into camp an hour after he and Shifty arrived. The Boss must have met a mishap on the road. Maybe his horse had thrown a shoe, and they'd stopped for help. Or maybe he'd gotten a chance to pull off another heist.

Still, Ferny's stomach felt queasy as he stared over at the main entrance, straining his eyes to try and catch a glimpse of Boss. But he could see absolutely nothing in the darkness except fading shadows and silence. For one uneasy moment, he remembered that Ferny had been riding home with Mithadan. Then he told himself to calm down. Nothing had gone wrong; he just had to be a little more patient. He yawned, stretched and tried to ignore the dull ache that had begun at the base of his neck and was now spreading and reverberating throughout his entire head. He decided to go to bed to catch a few minutes of sleep and see if his head stopped hurting so much. He would tell the men to wake him as soon as Ferny came riding through the gate.

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]