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The Broken Ones	By : ChaoticReverie Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The Views: 2079 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit or any characters affiliated with it. OCs are mine. I am making no profit from this.

Chapter List
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Faye woke to a gentle hand on the shoulder, Frederick's smiling face the first sight that greeted her as she parted drowsy eyes.
"A good morning to you, young miss."
Gasping, she pulled herself upright, straightening her hair as she rambled, "Oh, I've overslept! He's going to beat me senseless!"
"Calm yourself," he urged with a wave of his hands. "You've done no wrong."
Standing, she shook her head, insisting, "Wes doesn't like it when we sleep too late. There's cleaning to be done."
"And what of my offer?" he reminded her softly, watching as she paused, her hands twisting in her threadbare skirts. "I will be taking my leave of this place just as soon as my coachman has readied the horses."
Faye considered it again. "Where… where is it you will be going? And what am I to be doing there?"
"I am travelling to Mabruk, a bustling trader's settlement in The Angle. As for what you might be doing upon arrival - that is something we can discuss during the trip."
Could she trust this man, who was a stranger? What might happen to her if she left with him? Perhaps his tastes ran toward something else entirely. She'd heard tales of young women's bodies discovered along the Road, throats slit. Was that a risk she was willing to take?
Yet… what was left for her here should she stay? She would spend the remainder of her days in filth and misery until she was too old to be of any use. And then what? This could be her only chance.
"I'll go."
He smiled brilliantly. "Wonderful! You may gather your things and ready yourself, my dear! I will speak to the proprietor at once!"
Faye frowned. Would he let her leave? "I… I do not know that Wes will let me go."
"You leave that to me," Frederick quipped as he adjusted his hat, stepping out of the room.
He strolled into the tavern, spotting the man scrubbing a tabletop near the front of the inn. "I would have a moment of your time!"
Wes glanced over his shoulder, chuckling at the look on the older man's face. He slung the rag over his shoulder. "Had yerself a good night, I see? Didn't I tell ya? That one's sweet as honey."
"Indeed you were correct, my good man! I am so pleased, in fact, that I would like to make you an offer on the girl!"
His smile disappeared instantly. "She's not fer sale."
Waving a hand, Frederick persisted, "Nonsense! Everything is for sale! How much would you ask for her?"
"Are you deaf, old man? She ain't fer sale!"
Reaching into his coat, he withdrew a fat coin pouch, upending its contents onto the table. He watched as Wes eyed the sizeable mound of gold greedily, his mouth hanging open. "I imagine you do not have many patrons, good sir, fewer yet who could afford the price for a night of that young lady's company. This should replace any additional funds she may have brought in."
Wes plopped down at the table, raking his fingers through the heap of money. Dumbstruck, he merely nodded his head.
"Excellent!" Frederick beamed, turning on his heal and heading again into the back hallway.
Faye was already waiting for him, a light shawl wrapped around her shoulders and an old book in her hand. She blushed. "I… don't have much."
He smiled at her. "Quite alright, my dear. Let's be on our way."
Retrieving his bag from the room he had occupied, Frederick wasted no more time in departing, tipping his hat to the innkeeper as they strode past. Jedd was waiting for them outside.
"Here you are," he called to the coachman, handing the boy his luggage. Once he'd finished strapping it atop the carriage, Frederick made the introductions. "This is Faye; she'll be joining us for the remainder of the trip. Faye, my dear, this strapping young man is Jedd."
He dipped his head and offered her a warm smile, opening the carriage door for them.
She nodded back, and after a moment's hesitation she accepted his proffered hand and stepped in. Frederick followed, seating himself across from her and letting out a pleased hum. The carriage jostled a moment later, the horses nickering as they set off at a light trot.
He observed the girl as they sat in tense silence, her nervousness nearly palpable. She kept looking out the window, and then down at her lap, her hands gripping the book she held fiercely. He gestured to it. "Do you read, my dear?"
She nodded.
"May I?" he inquired, hand outstretched.
She looked ready to refuse for a moment, but eventually handed it to him. It was a relatively small book, the leather binding worn from use. He opened it, flipping idly through the pages. Poetry mostly, along with the odd sketch.
"Did you do this?"
She shook her head. "My father did. He gave it to me when I was younger."
"He is a talented man," Frederick praised, closing it softly and handing it back to her. Most of her tension dissipated the moment it was back in her possession. "It must mean a great deal to you."
Again she nodded.
"Might I inquire about your age?" he questioned, thinking she looked even younger now than he'd originally surmised.
"Seventeen summers, sir."
He frowned, wondering again how such a young and lovely girl could have ended up in such a position. Then again, life's cruelties were not limited to the old and uncomely. He knew that all too well.
"Pardon me for asking, Frederick, but you said you were travelling to Mabruk. What… what awaits you there?" Faye asked him softly and suddenly, seeming almost fearful of his answer.
Removing his hat and placing it on the seat next to him, Frederick told her, "I own an establishment there, The Thistle."
"And what sort of business is conducted at your establishment?" she pressed.
"We cater to the needs of our patrons, whatever they might be," he told her truthfully, watching as understanding and then dread filled her. "Calm yourself, young miss. I think you misunderstand my intentions."
She frowned, casting her gaze out the window. "What I want is inconsequential. You bought me, after all; I will do as you bid."
He laughed softly, sadly. "Such a drear outlook, my dear; life has indeed been unkind to you. But I did not buy you, Faye. I bought your freedom."
Her eyes were wide when she looked at him again, hopeful and questioning. It was then that he noticed they were not brown, as he'd originally suspected, but an uncommon shade of dark blue.
"Why? Why would you do that?"
"Because I can."
She thought she saw something sad pass over his expression, but it was gone an instant later, replaced with a warm smile.
"Henceforth your life is your own, and when we arrive in Mabruk you may do as you please. I will, however, extend an invitation to you now."
Faye took a shuddering breath, pushing aside her disbelief for a moment to give him her attention. She nodded for him to continue.
"The Thistle is nothing like The Jewel - that awful, festering place. We provide only the best for our guests and for our own. You would be well fed, well dressed, and would have a warm bed to call your own at the end of every day."
He paused, reaching slowly across the carriage to touch the bruise around her eye. "This is unacceptable. No one will ever raise a hand to you so long as you are under my roof. You will be treated with dignity and will be respected. You will be safe."
She frowned. "Are there… other women there?"
He nodded. "Many, yes, but their lives are their own. I do not own slaves."
"And they stay?"
"Yes."
'Why? Why would anyone… want to do that?' she wondered, shaking her head. She didn't understand. "I… I very much appreciate what you have done for me, Mr. Thistlewood, but I… feel I must go."
"The choice is yours to make," Frederick told her again. "You may leave if that is your desire, but know that my offer will always stand should you change your mind."
The rest of the trip was spent in relative silence, the crunch of gravel under heavy hooves and the ring of birdsong the only constants. The sun had sunken nearly to the western horizon when a settlement came into view, the carriage jumping a little as they passed onto a bridge. The sounds of countless people milling reached them, along with myriad unfamiliar scents. It was like nothing she'd ever smelled before, she thought to herself as she leaned out the window to breathe deeply, catching hints of spice and sweetness, and of rich, smoky perfumes.
"Mabruk is the largest trading settlement this side of the Misty Mountains," Frederick told her. "Spice peddlers and bakers, blacksmiths and silk weavers. You can find just about anything here."
They travelled through a densely crowded area lined with stalls, and Faye looked on with interest as they passed each one. 'Merchant's Lane', she heard Frederick call it. The array of wares was staggering, the array of people even more so. She'd never seen so many different ethnicities before. Eventually they turned onto a wider road, the buildings that lined it in good repair. Across from them flowed the River Bruinen, and another sturdy bridge carried over to the other side. It was here that the carriage pulled to a slow stop.
"We've arrived, my dear," he told her enthusiastically. "Now, before you venture out to make your own way in the world, I insist that you come inside and get cleaned up. We'll draw you a nice bath, get you some proper clothing, and put some food in your belly."
She might have denied the offer, but after years of eating scraps and living in squalor the thought of hot food and a bath was too good to pass up. Nodding as Jedd pulled the door open, she accepted his hand and stepped out onto the road. "Thank you."
The young man smiled and tipped his head, turning again to unstrap the luggage. He certainly was a quiet one, she thought to herself.
"Come along," Frederick told her, motioning to the door of a charming establishment.
She followed him in, pleased to find it was just as lovely inside as it was outside. Everything about this place seemed luxurious, from the art on the walls and the hanging kerosene lanterns staggered between, to the massive, exotic rug that spanned nearly the entire floor. And so clean, too!
"Is that you, Freddie?" called a clear, feminine voice.
"Indeed it is, my darling Dotty! Back from my southern adventure!" he called merrily, removing his hat and coat.
"I'm surprised those barbaric Dunlendings didn't skin you alive. No amount of fur is worth that risky venture."
Faye stood awkwardly in the threshold as the exchange took place. The quiet thump of footsteps soon followed, and a shapely, pale-haired woman appeared from another room, pushing a dark curtain aside as she stepped through the doorway. They met eyes almost instantly, and the lady's red-painted lips pulled into a surprised pucker.
"As you can see, I found something far more interesting than fur on my trip," Frederick chuckled.
Recovering instantly, Dotty flapped her hands while instructing, "Don't just stand there, dearie! Come in, come in! Let us have a good look at you."
Faye approached slowly, thin fingers tightening on her shawl. She gasped in surprise when the outspoken woman reached out to clasp her face, turning her head from side to side. Thin, curved brows beetled, dark eyes narrowing as she took note of the mark around Faye's right eye.
"Oh, dearie… what a mess they've made," she tutted, stroking the girls' chin with her thumb.
"I found her in Dunlir, of all places," Frederick said as he settled into a smoking chair by the fireplace.
"Where?"
"Exactly my point," he chuckled, lighting a pipe.
There was a slight commotion in the adjacent room, and another woman emerged. This one was shorter, with a flash of wild, red hair and striking green eyes.
"What's this?!" she demanded.
"Signey, this is Faye," Frederick introduced. "She is in need of our hospitality."
Others began filing into the room as well, gathering around her. They were lovely, all of them. They moved with a cautious slowness, assessing her with looks of concern and understanding.
"So young," commented a tall, dark-haired one.
"And pretty," said another, her accent thick.
Faye felt mildly uncomfortable under so much scrutiny. The women seemed to notice, and they all smiled at her, stepping back to allow her space.
Signey turned from them, announcing, "I'm going to start boiling some water. Hulda, get her something to eat, would you?"
Most of the others departed as well, each with an apparent task in mind. She took a deep breath as the room fell into silence once more.
"I'll bet it's been a long day for you. Do you need a drink, dearie?" Dotty asked lowly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Faye shook her head. Spirits never sat well in her stomach, which was currently tied in knots anyway.
"Have a seat," she offered, pointing to a vacant chair before seating herself next to the older gentleman. Dotty smirked. "You just can't go on a trip without bringing back another stray, can you, Freddie?"
He huffed, smoke gusting from his lips. "Would you have it any other way?"
"Do you… travel often?" Faye asked as she settled into the plush cushion, Dotty's comment having roused her curiosity.
"I try to, yes, though obligation often holds me back. Yet, when we find ourselves in need of something that is not readily available in Mabruk, I relish the opportunity to strike out and explore new places, meet new people!"
"As though we needed those furs," Dotty scoffed. "Or any of the treasures you bring home, for that matter!"
He took a long draw from his pipe, smiling around the bit. "I felt they would suit the room at the end of the hall."
"And you had to go all the way to Dunland for them?"
"Dunlendings are the masters of fur, and since they refuse to peddle here, it only made sense that I should go to them."
Their friendly banter carried on, and Faye found herself staring into the licking flames, her body suddenly very heavy. Only a day ago she had thought to spend the rest of her life as a whore in that dank inn, and now here she sat, surrounded by kind people and all manner of luxuries, free to do as she pleased. This was all too surreal.
She wasn't sure how much time she'd spent gazing into the fire before someone touched her shoulder. Faye looked up into the face of the dark-haired woman - Hulda, she recalled.
"Here," she offered, extending a bowl of steaming, delicious smelling stew. "It's venison."
Taking the dish with a grateful nod she cradled it in her lap, breathing in the delightful aroma. When was the last time she'd eaten anything other than stale bread-ends? She couldn't be certain. When she took that first bite her stomach rumbled approvingly, the combination of rich flavors the most exquisite thing she'd eaten in years. A happy smile curled her lips.
"Thank you," she sighed.
"You are most welcome," Hulda replied. "There is more if you are still hungry."
She could tell the others were watching her as she ate, but couldn't bring herself to care any longer. She was just so hungry. When the bowl was empty she handed it back. "I couldn't possibly eat another bite."
"Then how about a soak?" Signey asked, poking her head through the curtain.
Faye glanced at Frederick, who smiled at her and swept his hand toward the adjoining doorway, instructing her to follow. She stood and headed into the next room, sweeping aside the curtain as she went.
This room was larger and clearly meant for lounging. Settees and armchairs were placed strategically throughout; some huddled around tea tables while others flanked an impressive liquor cabinet. The room was enticing, and she imagined it appealed to all sorts.
She followed the shorter woman through this room and down a hall, passing what appeared to be a kitchen of sorts before turning into another doorway. A bedroom, she noted immediately, swathed in dark colours with rich wood accents. In the corner was a high wooden tub filled half-way with steaming water. Another woman, the one with the accent, was kneeling next to it, arranging a tray of brushes and oils.
"Oyna can help you with your hair. Now, off with those dreadful rags. We'll get you into something more suitable," Signey directed.
"This… this is too much," Faye insisted, feeling she'd done nothing to deserve any of this.
She shook her head, brilliant red ringlets bobbing as she did so. "No, it isn't. This is what we do here; we give people what they need. And you, dear girl, need to let us take care of you because it's painfully obvious that no one has done that for a long time. Now, no more arguing; off with 'em!"
Deciding it best not to feud with her hosts, Faye approached a dresser and placed her book on top of it before stripping out of her old dress.
Signey frowned as she took in the girl's appearance, the bruises that dotted her pale body ranging in colour from sickly yellow to deep and vibrant purple. And thin… far too thin. Huffing, she reached out and took the ragged clothes from her outstretched hand, her expression sad as she turned and exited.
"Come," Oyna told her, patting the rim of the tub.
Doing as she was told, Faye stepped over the lip and slowly dipped a foot into the water, the heat making her wince. Yet she pressed on, stepping in completely and then slowly sinking down. It burned, but it was a pleasant feeling, one she had not experienced in some time. She was usually so cold, and she could practically feel the hot water stripping the grime from her skin. She sighed as she settled back.
"Which do you like?"
Faye glanced down at the tray, studying the tiny vials with uncertainty. "I don't really know."
Oyna smiled, uncapping one bottle and handing it to her. "Lavender."
She took a tentative sniff, enjoying the light floral smell. Second and third bottles were offered to her as well, jasmine and cinnamon. "I think I like the first."
"A soft scent; it suits you," she agreed with a nod.
There was a basket with a washcloth on the rim of the tub, and she reached out to claim it. A small bar of soap was hidden underneath, smelling faintly of pine. She began gently enough, but memories of dirty, rough hands came rushing back, and she scrubbed harder, wishing she could peel her skin off completely.
"Not hard," Oyna scolded, reaching out and touching a bruise on her arm. "You make them worse."
Faye sighed, consenting with a nod. It hadn't helped anyway. She didn't know that she would ever be rid of that feeling – the sensation of being dirty, spoiled.
"Head back."
Tilting back as instructed, she closed her eyes as a ladle of water was poured over her hair, followed by several more. Then she was maneuvered to the edge of the tub, and Oyna's nimble fingers massaged the oil carefully into her sopping strands. The fragrance wafted to her nose, pleasant and soothing. After several more minutes of pampering and brushing, the exotic woman assisted her out of the tub, toweling her dry and offering a warm robe.
By this point, two other women – twins, Faye realized – had entered the room and had arranged a variety of garments on the bed.
"Something pale, I think," said one of them.
"Yes," the other agreed, choosing a soft green dress and holding it up against her. "Lovely."
Leaving the decided article behind, along with a chemise and a pair of boots, they gathered up the rest and left. Slipping out of the robe she pulled the shift on, allowing Oyna to help her with the dress afterward. It was soft and cool on her skin, worlds apart from the thin, course material of her previous attire.
Once Oyna had laced up the back for her, she motioned to the vanity Faye had placed her book on, telling her to sit. As she did she chanced a look into the large mirror surmounting the dresser, deciding the dress was indeed lovely. This Frederick must have been in possession of a great deal of wealth, judging by what she'd seen since her arrival. She'd never heard of a brothel with such luxuries.
"We do something about this," Oyna hummed as she touched the side of her face tentatively. She opened one of the many small pots arranged across the vanity, dipping her finger into a pale, pasty substance. She waited for Faye to tilt her head to the side before smearing it carefully under her eye, her touch gentle as she dabbed it over the bruise. She assessed her work carefully. "Better."
When Faye looked at herself in the mirror again, she noted that the mark was far less noticeable.
"It is good. You and Signey have the same skin," Oyna laughed to herself, her fingers playing through the damp strands of the girl's hair. She took up a hank from each side of her face and began braiding, joining the two pieces at the back.
Faye felt a bittersweet smile pull at her lips; the last person to have braided her hair was her mother. She withheld tears, not wanting the woman's previous efforts to be wasted. The boots that had been left for her had a set of small stockings in them, just high enough to go past her ankle, with beautiful lacy frills along the top.
Fully dressed, she collected her book and turned to Oyna, following along when the exotic woman headed back the way they came.
"Oh dearie, much better," cooed Dotty when she saw the girl, reaching out to pluck at one of her sleeves. "Green suits you."
Frederick approached with a smile, taking one of her hands and placing a small satchel into it. The contents jingled tellingly. "To get you started."
She looked down at the purse of money and then back up to his face, fighting off tears once more. Her gaze flitted from face to face before returning to Frederick's once more. "I… don't know how to thank you enough. I've nothing to offer you for all of your kindness."
"Your gratitude is reward enough, dear girl," he responded.
She looked around the room again, finding some of the women from earlier were missing. "The others…"
"Hulda, May, and Yusraa are occupied with guests at the moment. I will be sure to pass along your gratitude," he assured her.
"Let's get you a proper covering," Signey offered, pulling a brown fur stole from a hook by the curtain.
"Is this yours?"
"It is, but not to worry, I can have a new one made. We've got loads of furs now, it would seem," the redhead chuckled.
"Heaps of furs," Dotty agreed with a laugh, giving Frederick a little jostle with her hip.
Faye watched the scene with a smile, feeling genuinely comfortable for the first time in a long time. These people offered such pleasant company… she was almost sad to leave.
Signey caught the look. "The door is always open, so don't be a stranger."
She smiled, nodding when something warm blossomed in her chest at the notion of seeing them again.
They all saw her to the door, and Frederick clasped her hands in his. "The best of luck to you, young lady, and do remember my offer. There will always be a place for you here should you wish to stay."
Faye nodded, finding that the idea did not seem so disagreeable anymore. But she had her freedom now, for the first time in many years, and that was not something she was prepared to squander. She bid them goodbye and pushed the door open, stepping out into the street.
Signey was the first to speak again after she departed. "How long do you think she'll last?"
Frederick frowned. "We do not joke about such things. Perhaps this one will be different; perhaps she will find her way."
"We can only hope," sighed Dotty, though she knew well that the world was cold, and there was little room in it for people like them. The lonely. The broken.
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The Broken Ones