Mending the Broken Pieces | By : LadyLaran Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 13615 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own "the Hobbit" nor do I make money from this story. Tolkien and Jackson are the ones who own the characters and world. |
Author’s Note – So I am ecstatic about the response to this. You guys are SO amazing; you really feed the muses with your thoughts about this story. I also have good news too! As some of you might know, I have been in a holding pattern for a hearing regarding disability for my health issue. I was given a date for the hearing today! In celebration, I’m posting a chapter. Please keep me in your thoughts between now and the end of July so that the people in charge are understanding and will grand me disability status so I’m no longer fretting so much about finances and health care.
Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” nor do I make any money from this story.
Chapter Three – Leaving the Shire
Despite the fact she’d only had a few hours of sleep, Hawthorn was awake as soon as she heard the company stirring. She washed for the day, donning her small clothes before pulling on dark, ankle length trousers. The lass tucked in a gray shirt, ensuring it was laced securely, and then fastened on a wide leather belt that she’d put the beautiful dagger onto. She also donned a leather vest that would help keep her breasts secured since the camisole could only do so much. The lass was keenly aware she wasn’t as blessed in that area as most hobbit women were, but she preferred as much support as she could since she’d be traveling with a group of males.
She brushed her hair, pulling the heavy curls into a tight bun and securing it with heavy pins that could take the punishment of traveling. It had taken time to find the right kind and while they weren’t pretty, at least her hair was off of her neck and out of her face.
The last items were packed and pack tied off, and the lass had both pack, coat, and hat in hand as she hurried to her kitchen. Hawthorn set her belongings down on her mother’s glory box, and she went in to help make a filling breakfast.
Once the meal was enjoyed and some of the company washed and put her things away, the lass told Bombur to take what spices and anything else out of her pantry and cupboards that could be of use on the trip. As he went to do that, Hawthorn slid into her jacket and settled her wide brimmed hat onto her head. Her pack was slung over her shoulder, the book she’d worked on under an arm as well as another, and she pulled her trusty staff out of the hall closet.
The hobbit found most of the company outside, inspecting the tack of the ponies. Bofur took her pack, grinning at her thanks and strapping it onto the back of one of the ponies designated to carry their belongings.
“Master Oakenshield,” the newest member of the company called, diverting his attention away from his cousin.
“Yes, Miss Baggins?”
“I would like to ask for a small delay in our departure,” she requested. “On the way out of the Shire is a smial where a client lives. I finished the commission last night and would like to ensure it’s delivered to him before we leave. I promised to have it to him before the end of the week. It won’t be out of our way.”
“All right,” he said, mounting his pony and watching as she locked up her home.
The lass handed the key to Gandalf, who put it into a small packet before whistling for a nearby bird. Within seconds, the bird was carrying the parcel away and the dwarf lord was hopeful that this wasn’t a bad thing.
At first, the ride away from Miss Baggins’s home was rather pleasant with the group talking amongst themselves while following the lass’s directions to the home she needed to make a delivery to. The young woman was riding near the middle of the group, looking fairly relaxed for a while until more and more hobbits began their work for the day.
Dark whispers drifted to the dwarves while they headed to their first stop of the day, and all of them could see the rigid set to the girl’s shoulders as she kept her head up in spite of the vicious comments being made.
Once they arrived at a very grand smial, Hawthorn slid off of her pony and handed the reins to Bifur, who had held his hand out for them. The company wasn’t too far from the front door and could see and hear everything going on around them.
Dwalin’s face grew stern as he heard the whispers from the yard behind them that became louder while their new burglar headed to the door.
“Seems she found someone to take her on,” a woman’s voice said, sounding disgusted. “Do you think she’s leaving the Shire for good?”
More comments about the girl was heard, and the dwarves could see the tight look on Gandalf’s face. It was obvious he was holding onto his temper, but it wouldn’t take much to set him off.
The door soon opened, and a woman popped her head out. There was a look of disgust as she sent one of the children back into the smial for someone. One of the other children was drawn away from Hawthorn with a reprimand to stay away from her.
An elderly hobbit came out and took both of the books from her, looking the new one over.
“You’re early with it,” he said abruptly.
“I’ve an errand to take care of out of the Shire,” Hawthorn answered in a pleasant tone. “I wanted to make sure to bring it to you so that I wouldn’t break my word and also return the original to you.”
The hobbit nodded, looking through the book. There was a look on his face that Balin was quick to recognize, having seen it before whenever he or one of his people tried to get the value promised for the work they’d done.
“It looks all right – I’ll get the two pieces,” he said, not quite hiding a smirk when the girl stiffened.
“Mr. Proudfoot, you promised five for the amount of work I had to do for this project,” she objected politely. “I spent a great deal of time working to ensure this book was translated in the method you asked for.”
The advisor surprised Thorin and Dwalin when he gave a low growl before sliding off of his pony. With a gentle flick of his wrist to summon the company’s scribe, Ori was off of his pony as well and the pair of them headed to the two hobbits.
“If I may have a look at your work, Miss Baggins? I am not only Thorin’s royal advisor but also the one who instructs the royal scribes and am the Guild Master of the Scrivener’s Guild of Erebor. Ori was my latest apprentice and is now a journeyman for our guild.”
Hawthorn watched as the older hobbit seemed both amazed and bemused with the titles Balin had just dropped, handing the dwarf the book she had worked so hard on.
The tome was beautifully bound, and the writing inside was nothing short of breathtaking. Each page held a paragraph in three different languages. The first two looked to be off shoots of each other but the third was Westron, and he looked at the lass.
“Did you do all of this yourself, Miss Baggins,” he asked, showing it to Ori and seeing the look of appreciation of someone who knew her craft well and was at a mastery status even if she didn’t hold the title.
“I did,” she said, looking shy. “I learned how to create my own books from Erestor in Imladris, and this project was originally in ancient Hobbitish. Master Proudfoot wanted the ancient in the book followed by modern Hobbitish and then Westron to be used as a primer for his grandchildren’s education.”
“You’re saying you not only bound the pages, Miss Baggins, but did two translations from the oldest form of your language as well?”
“I did, Master Ori,” the hobbit said, blinking when Balin turned to the company.
“Your Majesty,” the advisor began. “If I may have a moment of your time, I believe you should see the end results of Miss Baggins’s latest project.”
While the male hobbit paled, Hawthorn blushed as Thorin dismounted and moved briskly to where his advisor held the book. He checked the binding, admiring the way the cover had been embossed and stained to decorate the title, and then gave a low nod of his head when he saw the elegant hand the lass had used when writing each translation out.
“Such a book would fetch fifteen pieces in our markets now but in Erebor, it would have gone for nearly twice that,” the soon to be king informed the group. “It is rare to find a scribe with the patience to bind her own materials as well as apply her skills at translating with a hand so elegant.”
“Fifteen pieces,” the older hobbit choked.
“At least,” Thorin said in a tone of voice that every nosy hobbit could hear. “It is obvious Miss Baggins is a master of her craft, and she deserves every piece of gold for this quality of work. Amongst my people, we are quick to admire the work of those who have such a talent. Based on this work alone, I believe the head of the guild for the scribes would certainly be giving her a mastery level as well as begging her to work with them to help restore the old texts that are in dire need of it. It would be a request I would approve of based upon this work. Balin, I take it you agree?”
“I certainly do, your majesty,” the older dwarrow answered, pleased to be seeing the reactions to this information on the faces of all of the hobbits that had been so cruel in their words about the hobbit maiden.
Ori, Balin, and Thorin could hear the male hobbit’s teeth as he ground them together. Both king and scribe were very much aware of what the advisor had wanted, and they were glad to be of service if it meant the lass got what she deserved.
Master Proudfoot snarled, dropping a bag of coins into her hand and snatching the book. It was obvious he was upset and couldn’t do much about it considering her work had been given such high praise by royalty.
“This is the last of our business together, girl,” he managed to grit out. “I shall find another for work of this nature from now on.”
“Considering your project was my last one as I shall be leaving the Shire,” Hawthorn began. “I would recommend you find another scribe to handle any future projects. Good day, Master Proudfoot.”
“Leaving the Shire eh? Hope you don’t return,” he snarled back, heading into his smial. “Unnatural thing like you is certainly bad for all of us.”
The door slammed behind him, and her hand closed around the small bag of coins. It was obvious she was rattled by his words but was managing to keep her composure.
“Thank you, all of you, for your help,” Hawthorn said softly, dropping the pouch into her pocket for the moment.
“It’s the truth, Miss Baggins,” Balin told her. “You are certainly a master of your craft, and you deserve honest payment for the work you’ve done. I couldn’t stomach seeing you be cheated of the money you have rightfully earned.”
The hobbit lass managed to bow her head, silently thanking them before moving back to her pony. Thorin and Ori helped her onto it, moving to their own mounts while she settled her feet in the stirrups and placing the butt of her staff against one foot to brace it.
As the company restarted their journey to the borders of the Shire, Hawthorn could see the group slowly maneuver themselves so they were no longer riding in a line but rather in a small cluster with her in the middle. It took her a moment to realize that they were trying to shelter her from the harsh looks of her own people, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the tears that were trying to form. She hadn’t felt so protected since her parents had died, and it made her heart swell with emotion.
Fili was the first to start a conversation, hoping to keep her attention on him and not the horrible words that were being bandied about in regards to their burglar. So far, it seemed to be working since he was asking about how she’d learned to work her craft. Hawthorn’s voice was quiet but slowly gaining in confidence as she shared how much she’d learned from Erestor, who was one of the elves of Imladris and a scholar of great reputation.
Thorin approved of his nephew’s actions, and he was glad that Fili was able to keep her distracted from what was being said about her. Gandalf, who was riding on his left side, shook his head when he glanced up at the wizard.
“I’ll explain later,” he said. “At least, I’ll speak of what I can because a lot of it is very personal to her. I had no idea it had gotten to be this bad. Hobbits are typically one of the nicest people I know.”
“The only one hobbit who could be called nice, Tharkûn, is the burglar,” the monarch growled. “The rest of them have done nothing but anger me and the company.”
“I know,” the wizard said softly. “As I said, I had no idea this was happening. Hopefully, we’ll be out of the Shire soon enough and this will no longer continue.”
“See if you can take us out the quickest way possible, Tharkûn. My dwarrows will react if pushed too hard; the lass did us a kindness last night, and they will lose their control if these words and actions do not end soon,” the king told the Istar. “I would not hold them back should they lash out.”
Gandalf nodded and took them along paths that would get them out of the lands of the hobbits quickly. As much as he would love to punish the small people for how they treated one of their own, he would not allow Hawthorn to see such a thing. She deserved better, and he would make sure she found her happiness.
Author’s End Note - Balin can be fun to write! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you thought of it. See you next time. ~ Laran
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