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Don't Panic!  by Boz4PM

Thanks to all who have read/reviewed so quickly! And nice to see some of you know this story already - Nilmandra said she had kindly shoved a few people in its direction on OSA or ff.net. I will be posting a couple of chapters each day so as to post it in bite-sized chunks (as it were).

Warning for language in this chapter.



Chapter 4 - Clear As Mud


Halbarad scowled at her as he stood on the stairs. He was really beginning to think she was insane. He wondered if he should bother Elrond with her at all if that was the case. Perhaps he should just leave her here under the care of the good people of Bree. She wasnt from here but she would be looked after. Her behaviour was becoming more erratic and bizarre.

She had finally overcome her laughter and, still giggling, was following the bemused Butterbur up the stairs to their rooms.

The laughter at the dwarf had clearly been in surprise and amusement at his appearance as if she had never seen one before. He could understand that though her rudeness had appalled him.

Halbarad hadnt liked the laughter she had directed at him, though. Not at all. He had seen the look in her eye as she had turned to him after watching the hobbit pass them on the stairs: utter derision and contempt. That had been mocking laughter, as if she considered him a complete fool and beneath her.

Halbarad bridled. He had no idea what she thought he had done to deserve such an opinion from her and, given her refusal to attempt to communicate in any language he understood, he suspected he may never discover it. He was still livid, though.

He stomped up the stairs after her. To think he had even been considering getting her a dress this afternoon! Admittedly as much so he could have his own clothes back, but it would have been at his cost. As it was he was paying for her board and lodgings here as well as a pair of shoes for her.

He growled, feeling his jaw tighten and his fists clench. If he wasnt so damn honourable...

Butterbur opened a door and indicated another opposite it. He handed the keys to Halbarad for both and, casting a nervous glance at Penny, he trundled down the stairs muttering to himself and shaking his head. Halbarad, his face pale in his anger now, stepped to one side motioning her to go past him and into the room. She walked in, with a snort, standing with her arms folded looking less amused and more irritated now.

Halbarad shut the door behind them and placed his pack on the floor beside him. He didnt think he would get very far with her, but he was going to try and he didnt want the world and his wife hearing this. She had created enough of a scene on the stairs and brought attention to herself, and himself come to that, as it was. Given what he had heard had occurred a week or two previously when Aragorn had been here it was little wonder he was angry. Gossip and dark whispers had been rife and Gildor had confirmed it all. Rangers would not be welcome in Bree for a long time now though Butterbur he knew would treat them well enough. The rest of the guests here were another matter entirely.

Stupid bloody woman.

What was all that about? he growled, turning and glaring at her.

What now? Penny snapped.

She could see he was angry. Bloody hell, did he have to take it so seriously? I mean, she liked Lord of the Rings, loved it and considered herself a bit of a Tolkien nut in fact, but there WERE limits. Running about the countryside with a sharpened sword pretending to a Ranger was seriously weird, even by her standards. Communing with people roleplaying their lives away as dwarves, hobbits or Barliman Butterbur was even madder, as far as she was concerned. Her head was throbbing, she could feel her throat was beginning to hurt, her nose was streaming and she felt seriously unwell. The last thing she needed was some prat out-geeking her on the Tolkien stakes and pissing her off even more than she already was.

Her entire posture screamed indifference and annoyance. Halbarad took a few breaths to calm himself. He tried again. He pointed at the door in the direction of the stairs.

What did you think you were doing? The laughing?

She didnt flinch, just stared at him scornfully.

You, he pointed at her, then mimed laughing, Ha ha. Laughing. Why? This was like talking to a child. He could see she had understood him, though.

Oh for Gods sake! she snorted. Are you SERIOUS! You are this upset about me finding this entire set up completely bloody bizarre and ridiculous! What are you? Deranged?

She tapped her finger against her head. He understood that gesture well enough because he looked shocked and then very angry indeed. Before he could answer, though, she was off. She was pissed off now. Really bloody pissed off.

I mean, what the fuck is this all about? I refuse to believe you dont speak English. Its all a bloody con. Hmm? Well!

She looked at him, hands on hips. He narrowed his eyes at her.

ENG-LISH, she said, loudly and slowly as if talking to a small child or a very deaf pensioner. You know, the language Lord of the Rings was actually written in?

Halbarad was breathing hard. He didnt understand her but knew well enough from her tone she was berating him. It was taking all his strength of will to not hit her, strangle her or walk out. He opened his mouth to say something but she was continuing, her voice rising as she did so.

Lord of the Rings? Ring a bell, you idiot! You know, books? She opened her palms like she was reading. Films? Big blockbuster bloody films that everyone in the entire fucking world has seen? She did the international charades hand signal for a movie. Halbarad still looked peeved but now also utterly baffled. Oh, God! You fucking moron! Lord of the Rings! Tolkien! You know, TOLKIEN? J R R Tolkien! How can you not have heard of Tolkien! She was near screaming at him as she said this.

Halbarads expression was growing more and more confused. Clearly this word she was repeating was significant somehow and it was frustrating her that he didnt understand it.

She threw her hands up in exasperation and swore. Loudly. Then she turned to him with a withering glance.

Let me guess. You think Peter Jackson wrote the entire bloody thing, right? Still no reaction from him. Peter Jackson? Viggo Mortensen? Orlando Bloom?

She sighed in frustration. God, this guy was a complete IDIOT! He was roleplaying something he didnt even know the author of, let alone seem to even have SEEN the movies. This was getting weirder by the minute.

Halbarad had calmed down a little and was beginning to enjoy watching her rant. He was leaning back against the door, arms folded, watching her with mild amusement as she worked herself up into a lather about Eru knew what.

Penny tried a different tack.

Fine! she said through gritted teeth and stalked over to the bed and sat on it. You refuse to co-operate. You are forcing me to suffer this. Give me a laugh, then. Go on: who, exactly, are you meant to be? Hmm? She folded her arms and looked at him coolly.

He could see whatever she had asked him she was expecting or hoping for an answer. He just laughed softly and shook his head. He pointed at her and then made a sign with his hand, his fingers opening and shutting against his thumb like a mouth opening and closing, to indicate she talked too much. He pointed to himself, his ear and then shrugged.

She understood him alright: she was yabbering on and he did not understand a word she was blathering on about.

GOD! she yelled in frustration through clenched teeth. Who ARE you? Lets see. FAR too complicated for you to work out a new character for yourself, I mean you havent even heard of bloody Tolkien so what do you care, right? Let me guess, Halbarad would be too small a part and you look like an egotistical bugger. You reckon youre Aragorn dont you? Aragorn fucking Elessar fucking Estel fucking king of the pile! You can swan about and date Elronds daughter and be king of Gondor and Arnor..

She stopped herself in mid withering rant. Halbarad was standing bolt upright. He was staring at her, his mouth open, in what seemed to be utter disbelief.

Hit a nerve, did we? she smirked. Ego punctured a bit, eh? She laughed.

Halbarads mind was reeling. All thoughts of not taking her to Elrond fled in an instant.

She had just said his name. She had also used Aragorns name and two of his other titles. None of those were known outside of the small group of people who knew Aragorn and one was one with which he would be crowned and was unused... ever! ...and Estel: only the elves called him that. Round here he was called Strider and no-one knew him as Aragorn. She had mentioned Elrond too.

Eru! Eru and Elbereth, this had suddenly got very serious indeed.

He stared at her. Not quite believing what he had heard. It all been interspersed in her bizarre language too. He was pretty sure she had mentioned Arnor and Gondor as well and that, in connection with Aragorn, could only mean one thing. No one, NO ONE, other than certain elves, Gandalf and the Dnedain knew of his lineage.

Suddenly he was angry. All this time she had known, or would have been able to tell him something, given him some indication of her knowledge. She clearly did not realise he was Halbarad but she knew of him and that worried him. Worried him greatly. She was not of the Dnedain, that much was blatantly obvious, yet none other than the Dnedain or the elves knew him. There was more to her than he had first thought, though he had always suspected as much.

He slowly drew his sword and advanced towards her.

Penny knew reconstruction guys could get touchy and defensive about what they did. Even the best Tolkien geek in the world doesnt like to be mocked, as she knew to her cost when she had explained the concept of fanfiction to an ex-boyfriend and he hadnt stopped laughing till he threw up. But still, this was going a little too far.

Hey. Now. Ok, she stammered. You can be Aragorn if you want. Who am I to stop you? Hey? HEY!

He was getting close now, the sword nearing her throat. The glint of anger and mistrust was clear in his eye. He growled something at her. She felt tears fill her eyes.

He was going to kill her and she couldnt understand him, couldnt communicate. Oh shit. Oh, shit. Why? Why was she here? What the hell was going on!

He asked his question again.

I dont understand you, you freak! she sobbed. I .. d.. dont .. understand.. The tears began to fall even as she sensed how close that razor sharp blade was to her.

Aragorn. You said Aragorn? What do you know of him? Or Elrond? Or me? He could see her fear and distress, but he would not relent. He had thought her ignorant. He had thought her mad. Now he considered her a threat.

She looked at him, eyes wide, not knowing what it was he wanted or what it was he was upset about.

Yes, Aragorn. What about him? Are you Aragorn? She pointed at him as she asked.

He stopped, hesitating for a moment. He shook his head.

No. I am Halbarad.

He repeated his name and pointed at himself, though he still held his sword towards her.

She was leaning back, hands behind her on the bed, terrified, trying to look at both him and the blade he was holding near her neck at the same time.

Fine. Fine, she nodded vigorously. I apologise. Youre not Aragorn. You had the guts to take a secondary character. Good. Good for you. Ok. Good. Youre Halbarad. Fine. Halbarad. Good. She was panicking still.

He was looking at her, trying to make her out. Yes, Im Halbarad. You?

He was pointing at her now, clearly asking a question.

Me? She put a hand to her chest. He nodded. Penny. She pointed at him, Halbarad. Then back to herself, Penny.

He repeated it, mulling it over in his mind. Odd name for a woman. Very odd.

Its short for Penelope. Then she realised she had confused him with that so she waved her hand muttering, Forget it, forget it.

He was not satisfied but didnt think he was going to get much more out of her. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe this woman had met Aragorn, knew him, but then he realised she could not have done if she had thought he might be Aragorn. Perhaps she knew of him, had been sent by someone? Was she looking for him, perhaps? Her fear and surprise at his behaviour seemed genuine enough. She certainly didnt seem dangerous. Incompetent: certainly. Mad: quite possibly. But not dangerous.

He lowered his sword though he still eyed her warily.

As he did so she gasped, leaning forward to take her head in her hands and burst into tears. He felt a little bad then. He had scared her. Scared her very badly. Yet she clearly had no idea of how to behave or when to keep her mouth shut. She was a very foolish woman and would get herself in trouble very quickly at this rate. He sighed and shook his head.

He crouched down in front of her, looking up into her face as she sobbed.

Im sorry, he said gently. Forgive me, but .. he sighed once more. You will not understand me, I know, but you should not use such names. These are dangerous times and a loose tongue will get you killed.

She was looking at him, sniffing and sobbing.

Aragorn. No. He shook his head and pointed at his tongue as he said this. He made the talking sign with his hand again and said Aragorns name once more and shook his finger. She seemed to understand. He hoped she did.

Penny felt utterly overwhelmed by it all. She was stuck God knows where with a bunch of role-playing nutters who had managed to out-WETA Peter Jackson to the point of not washing and open sewers and now she had one shouting at her and threatening her with a bloody sharp sword just because he was playing Halbarad not Aragorn. This wasnt funny. This was.. this was... what the hell WAS this?

On her way up the stairs she had wondered if this was Candid Camera or something: a wind-up that would end up on telly as millions watched her humiliate herself, God forbid, some horrific Reality TV show. But having swords, sharpened ones, waved at you was not funny. Not fucking funny at all. This man was clearly several sandwiches short of a picnic. She had been right to think he was a pyschopath: bloody fruitcake!

She looked at him. Her voice shook betraying her utter despair and confusion and fear.

Why? Just tell me why? Please. I cant cope with any more of this, okay? Im ill, Im tired, and youve really bloody scared me. I refuse to believe you dont understand me. I refuse to believe this isnt some huge wind-up and someones not going to burst through that door with a camera and a microphone any minute now. Please. I am begging you. Stop. Please, just stop. I.. I just want to go home. She collapsed into weeping again.

Halbarad just looked at her. He shook his head. He wished he could understand her, help her in some way.

Im sorry, he said again and shrugged his shoulders, smiling apologetically at her.

Fine. Just great, she was looking at him, nodding ruefully as she spoke. No, thats fine. Always the butt of a joke, arent I? Fine. Well Ill play. Ill play ball. You wanna be Halbard? You BE Halbarad then. You want me to imagine Im in Middle Earth? Fine. I will. Ill play this so damn well you WONT HAVE ANY GOOD FOOTAGE OF ME TO USE YOU BASTARDS! She shouted this last bit out into the room for the benefit of hidden microphones.

Halbarad scowled. Just when he thought she was being a bit more normal she was ranting again.

Let me just clarify, okay? She had turned to him once more, the sarcasm in her voice unmistakeable even to Halbarad who didnt understand her. Were where exactly? Bree? Yeah? And this is, what, meant to be The Prancing Pony? And that fat git out there was meant to be Barliman Butterbur, right? Bloody unconvincing I have to say, but still. Oh dont look at me like you dont know what I am talking about! Bree! The Prancing Pony! Butterbur! GAH! I GIVE UP! She threw herself back on the bed pulling at her hair and growling.

Halbarad gave up on her at that point. He shook his head. She was giving him a headache. He reached the door and picked up his pack. She was lying on the bed still, muttering to herself and staring at the ceiling.

Hey, you! What was her name again? Pen-ii!

WHAT!

He gritted his teeth. Me. There. He opened the door and pointed at himself and then at the door opposite.

Whatever! I dont give a monkeys where you are, frankly. Good riddance! and she pointedly rolled over and didnt look at him as he closed the door on her.

She burst into tears. Bastard. Pyschotic, fucking bastard. And trying to pretend like he was all nice about it afterwards.

She sneezed.

Ow!

God, her head was killing her. The crying hadnt helped. Couldnt he see she was ill? Oh, what the bloody hell was going on?

Before she could continue that line of thought there was a knock on the door. She went to it and opened it.

Two men dragged in a tub. They were followed by two women carrying two buckets each. They promptly poured these in the tub.

Umm, excuse me?

She tried to attract their attention but the men left and only one of the women turned to her, smiling and saying something and shutting the door behind her on her way out.

She returned to the bed despondently. After a few minutes there was another knock.

Come in, she called.

There was a hesitation then yet another knock.

Oh, for goodness sake, she muttered.

She stomped to the door.

Yes!

The women had returned with four more buckets but this time with steaming hot water in them. They were emptied into the tub. One woman stuck a hand into the water, said something to the other woman who nodded and bustled out of the room.

The woman, drying her hand on her skirts as she stood, said something to Penny. Penny smiled apologetically and shrugged. The woman repeated herself, more slowly and pointed towards Halbarads door and then pulled a face. Then she moved towards Penny and said something quietly. Penny could have almost sworn the woman was warning her about something, about Halbarad, because of her tone and the way she kept jerking her head back to indicate his chamber door.

The second woman returned with two more buckets full of water. As she poured them into the tub the first disappeared and then reappeared with two large folded pieces of material, a bar of soap, a scrubbing brush and a comb. The two then smiled and said a few words to Penny who said thank you to them. They shut the door and left.

She stared at the tub. Well, it was not the power shower she had dreamt of but, frankly, given how disgustingly filthy she felt, she did not really care.

She wandered over to it and stuck in a finger. Nice and warm. Just right.

She eyed the accoutrements they had given her warily.

Of course. Authentic.

Two nice, non-absorbant pieces of linen to dry yourself with. Delightful.

A bar of soap that would have done nicely to scrub floors in the Victorian age and had no scent whatsoever. She suspected it wouldnt lather either. No doubt she was expected to wash her hair with it too. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

A scrubbing brush that would have also brought up Victorian parlour floors to a brilliant shine but she suspected would take off several layers of skin if she used it on herself.

And the comb.

Well, the comb was less of a disappointment. It was made of bone, she presumed, and was very finely if simply carved. Certainly looked a lot stronger than most plastic combs shed had the misfortune to encounter.

She started to attack her hair. Better get the worst of the tangles out now than trying after rubbing latherless soap through it. She sighed. No conditioner. No proper shampoo. No toothbrush or toothpaste or deodorant. Bastards! she muttered to no one in particular.

She was about to start undressing when she realised she needed to lock the door. She then realised she didnt have the key.

Why the little shit! she murmured.

She was about to go and give Halbarad a piece of her mind when there came yet another knock. She went to the door and there, to her annoyance, he stood.

Wheres my key? she snarled.

He looked at her, irritated by such a reception.

Key. For the door. She made a locking motion and then indicated the keyhole. Im going to have a bath. I do NOT want you walking in in the middle of it. She pointed at the bath, then at him and scowled.

He understood. He had no intention of trying to see her in the bath. Eru! What a thought! He handed her something and went to his room. He returned with her key, which he had simply forgotten to give her.

Meanwhile, Penny was staring at what he had handed her: a pair of shoes. At least she thought they were shoes. They were more like ankle-length leather boots with thick leather nailed to the sole and then laces that wound round the ankle. Almost like leather socks in a funny kind of way. They were clearly a one-size fits most kind of affair, but still: it meant she wouldnt be hobbling about on bandages anymore.

She stared at him.

Thank you, she said.

She was quite touched, in a bizarre way. After all their sniping at each other she was quite grateful that he had thought of such a thing without her asking him.

She smiled.

He didnt return it. He nodded, turned and walked into his chambers without a word and slammed the door. She heard the key turn in the lock.

He had come to give her shoes and she had bitten his head off. Hed probably just forgotten to leave the key with her. She felt bad now.

She shut the door slowly and locked it.

No. Why the bloody hell should I feel guilty? she muttered as she undressed. He was waving a sword at me earlier, ranting and raving and scaring me shitless. Bugger him! He wants to get upset with me, let him. Useless prat. Oh, Im Halbarad, by the way. Please let me wave me ridiculously sharp sword at you and refuse to speak English or anything else vaguely intelligible because I am THE most annoying arsehole in the world! Halbarad, my arse! So saying, she climbed in the bath.



Authors Note
: Dont forget that the name Barliman Butterbur would be a translation from whatever his actual name was (Batti Zilbarapha at one point in JRRTs notes), hence Halbarads not understanding it when she said it. The same is the case for the town name of Bree. Pippin and Merry were also not actually called Peregrin or Meriadoc, etc, etc.

See the appendices at the end of ROTK for more about this and also HoME The Peoples of Middle Earth.






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