2 ~ The Lockholes

We decided this morning to leave Hobbiton for Michel Delving to free the hobbits from the lockholes. We rode out early and are now standing outside the hole.

Merry steps in first as a group of local hobbits gather round, ready to help if needed. Pippin, Sam and I follow close behind and soon we come to a cell with a young hobbit-lad about Pippin's age.

He told us he'd only been there a few days, and even that was horrible. I brace myself for what else we might find down there, and plod on to find the next person.

That next person happens to be our good friend Fredegar Bolger. He is very thin and looks ill. I unlock the cell and we enter it.

"Can you walk, Freddy my lad?" Merry asks.

He shakes his head in wonder. "I don't think so. Is this really happening? I thought you were dead!" his voice is weak and raspy.

Merry bends down and lifts him, seeing that he weighs barely anything.

*“You would have done better to come with us after all, poor old Fredegar!” Pippin says.

Freddy opens an eye and tries gallantly to smile. “Who’s this young giant with the loud voice?” he whispers. “Not little Pippin! What’s your size in hats now?” *

Pippin laughs. “The biggest hats in the Shire won’t fit me now, Freddy!”

Sam and I move on as they carry him outside to a carriage waiting to return him to his family, and Merry decides to go with him.

Pippin returns to help us unlock quite a few more cells. Some of the hobbits I recognize. Others I do not.

I find myself thinking maybe I could have prevented this by staying put. If I hadn’t left maybe the Ring would’ve stayed quiet, as it had been, in Bilbo’s possession for so long. I shake my head. No. It had been looking for ways to return to Sauron. Nobody would have been safe if I hadn’t gone away. Sauron would have taken over and the destruction of the Shire would have been worse.

Still… I feel as if I am responsible somehow.

Now we come to a cell, whose occupant is shouting loudly. I glance over at her.

“Lobelia?” I question.

She stares at me long and hard, then says, “Get me out of here, Frodo Baggins! Where are those ruffians? I’ll give them a talking to for locking me in here!”

For all her vocal fire, she is very thin and looks weak and sickly. I unlock the cell and she limps out, steadying herself on me.

“Where are they?”

“They’re gone, ma’am,” Sam says.

“They’d better be,” she says, waving her battered umbrella in his face.

“Let me carry you out, ma’am,” Sam says, leaning over to lift her, but she stops him and says, “I’m walking out of here on my own two feet, thank you very much.”

She grabs my arm for support and begins walking out of the lockholes. When we reach the entrance the hobbits outside begin cheering and clapping. Apparently news of her standing up to the Ruffian’s has gotten around quickly.

“Where’s my Lotho?” she asks me, looking around, her eyes filled with tears. No one has ever clapped for her before to my knowledge.

“I’m afraid he’s been murdered by the Ruffians, Lobelia,” I reply gently.

She looks stricken. “Murdered?”

I nod. “I am very sorry.”

She looks at me suspiciously, then, seeing that I truly mean it, she bursts into tears, leaning her head on my shoulder.

I lead her over to one of her Bracegirdle cousins, standing nearby, ready to help her away in her wagon, watch as they drive away, wondering if she’ll go back to Bag End, then turn back and help with the rest of the prisoners.

That night I am so tired I almost head for my room before supper, until Sam reminds me, and I join the others at the table. But I don’t feel like eating much tonight, and receive looks of concern from Daisy, May and Sam.

Not feeling much better after supper, I head straight to bed and fall asleep the moment my head touches the pillow. Tomorrow we are to visit the Mayor, who we rescued from the lockholes, to discuss the problem of finding a Deputy Mayor, seeing as Mr. Whitfoot isn’t quite in the right health to attend to his duties.

* * *

This morning Sam wakes me by touching my good shoulder and saying, “Wake up, Mr. Frodo.”

I glance up at him, and he smiles at me. “Did you sleep all right?”

I nod. “Better than I have for a while.” I reply, rubbing my eyes

“I’m glad.” He glances towards the door as someone rushes by, then back at me.

“Your sisters seem to be overly concerned with my health,” I say, smiling wryly.

Sam rolls his eyes. “You know they’ve always liked you,” he replies.

I shake my head and laugh quietly. “Yes. Who doesn’t know? They weren’t exactly discrete about it, Sam.”

“You can say that again,” Sam says with a laugh, both of us remembering their numerous attempts to get me to like them.

“I just hope they don’t ask me about it,” I say quietly.

“I don’t think they will. They’ve barely said two words to me, and act in awe of all four of us,” Sam states. “Only Marigold and Rosie are acting sane. Rosie doesn’t like it that we left, and Marigold is overjoyed that we’re back.”

I smile. Marigold had been literally bouncing up and down with happiness when her elder brother returned.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Nearly time for second breakfast,” Sam says. “You slept clear through first breakfast, so I figured I’d better come wake you up.”

I rise and get dressed, then join Sam and Merry and Pippin in the kitchen for an early second breakfast meal, then we head out on our ponies to visit Will Whitfoot.

A/N: the lines in between the * are from The Return of the King: The Grey Havens. I did not make them up. I only changed the tense, for sake of the story.