Lessons In The Night
Characters: Four hobbits: Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. One
mysterious man: Strider.
Disclaimer: In playing with Tolkien's masterpiece I mean no
disrespect.
Other info: Sorry, no slash, but lots of spanking. :)
Series: Follow-up to The Inn at Bree by Claire
Frodo's bottom was thoroughly heated, no question of that. His face
still felt flushed with embarrassment from what Strider had just done
to him and he was still sniffling and rubbing at his moist eyes with
the backs of his hands when a sudden commotion was heard on the other
side of the door.
Instantly Strider was on his feet and spinning to face whatever foe
was descending upon them, his drawn sword flashing in the firelight.
What crashed through the door, however, was a tumble of small Hobbit
bodies. With their wildly tousled curls, flailing limbs, tangle of
cloaks, and poorly wielded weaponry, Sam, Merry, and Pippin resembled
a litter of small, snarling puppies, endearing in their bravado.
Little wonder Strider immediately relaxed and drew back with a
crooked grin, despite Sam's ferocious threats and name-calling.
Frodo had to hide a grin himself.
"You have courage, Master Hobbit," Strider told Sam.
Frodo did smile then, softly and to himself, enjoying the good
opinion this man generously bestowed on his would-be attackers. The
mysterious ranger clearly respected his smaller challengers, even
though his high-handed treatment of Frodo just moments before had
been decidedly unpleasant.
And yet, unpleasant though it had been, and although Frodo was now
making a great effort to keep from rubbing his throbbing backside, he
felt something more profound than simple indignation from the
spanking. He felt...safe. For the first time since Gandalf had left
them, Frodo felt a bit more safe. He held that feeling in his quiet
heart and schooled his features as his friends gathered around him
talking all at once, but Frodo's gaze kept returning to the movements
of the man.
Strider once again crossed directly to the window. He checked up and
down the street, glancing at the hobbits repeatedly, clearly
distracted with concern. He then moved swiftly from the window
towards the door.
"We cannot stay," he said to them in the firm tone Frodo was
beginning to recognize. "Gather your things and come with me.
Quickly."
Pippin was such an everlasting Took. When he'd had a little too much
brew he was even more imprudent than usual, which was saying a lot.
He set his stubborn little jaw and began to utter a protest.
"And just who are YOU to be telling us..."
It was as far as he got. Strider was upon him before he could
blink. He scooped up the sputtering hobbit and held him at arm's
length and eye level. Merry and Sam surged forward but Frodo shook
his head at them and they halted, stunned expressions in place.
"You will do as I say, little one, and thank your lucky stars that I
haven't the time to deal with your mischief at this particular
moment." Pip halted his useless flailing immediately and hung gazing
at the man, eyes wide with alarm. Pulling Pip a bit closer, Strider
added, "I will attend to you soon, however, rest assured, so I
advise you to behave yourself and not kindle my displeasure with you
further."
Placing Pip down, Strider shoved the stunned hobbit's belongings at
him and shot meaningful looks at Sam and Merry, who were glaring and
bristling, yet behaving more sensibly.
"Come," he said. "There's no time to waste. Follow me."
Frodo found himself facing three pairs of curious eyes, but his sense
of foreboding and his need to trust this ranger quieted his murmured
misgivings. He quickly donned his cloak and gathered his few
belongings, prompting the others to do the same. Within moments they
were hurrying from The Prancing Pony after Strider, out into the
dark, wet and dreary streets of Bree.
"Of course," Frodo heard Merry grumble. "Back into this mess again
when we'd just got warm and dry."
"Do you plan to protest then?" Pippin slyly asked his kinsman.
Merry was clearly not in a mood to be baited. "Hush, Pip."
"Master Frodo?" Sam said, hustling along beside him. "Are you
alright?"
Frodo squinted through the rain at his friend's worried
expression. "I'm fine, Sam," he lied.
"That Longshanks didn't hurt you or nothing,' I mean, did he?"
"I'm fine, Sam."
"It's just that, well, you seem to be walking a bit stiffly is all."
"No I'm not."
"Well, if you're sure..."
"I'm fine, thank you, Sam."
Fortunately the journey was brief and Sam's quizzing halted when
Strider knocked softly at the door to an unobtrusive house across the
street from The Prancing Pony. A secretive man admitted them and led
them by candlelight up a narrow, winding staircase to the top of the
building and into a warm room well lit by a cozy fireplace. A large
chair sat near the window and four small beds stood prepared and
waiting.
Strider tarried just outside the door to the room, speaking in
murmured tones to their host. Frodo and his friends wandered into
the small space, gazing about. They shed their cloaks, each hanging
them on one of the bedposts, then they huddled near the fire to share
looks of quiet puzzlement, all of them clearly wondering about these
preparations that had obviously been made in advance.
Merry and Pippin could only contain themselves for so long. They
began to riddle Frodo with hushed questions about this ranger and
what was going on here. Frodo was disinclined to tell them anything
about what had happened before they burst into the room at the Inn,
but he did answer what questions he felt he could. It didn't seem
enough to satisfy the other hobbits, but as it was unlikely he would
have been able to do that anyway, Frodo didn't concern himself much
about it.
Before long Strider closed the door and turned to the hobbits. He
studied them for a moment while removing his cloak, then he grinned,
hung up his garment, and crossed to the chair near the window. The
hobbits remained uncharacteristically silent. They watched the man
peer up and down the street again as he had at the Inn.
Frodo shifted, sensing the growing impatience of the others. They'd
been through quite a bit. He knew they were all weary and tense and
fast expending their reserves of forbearance, and although he felt
sleep would be hard in coming to them all when they were so keyed up
and uneasy, he also knew they had to be eager to collapse into the
beds that looked deep and inviting. Frodo couldn't fault them for
that. However, they were also intensely curious about this dark and
powerful man who had so completely taken charge of them, so they were
struggling to maintain their self-control and waiting to see what the
ranger was planning to do.
Strider finally turned, picked up the chair from its place beside the
window, and brought it forward, situating it near the fire. He then
straightened, slowly unbuckled his belt, and sat, placing the belt
with his great sword beside him on the floor. He studied the hobbits.
"I will assume that by now Frodo has told you what he knows of me,"
he stated. "I am a friend. I know of your quest. I know what you
are facing. I also know that you expected to find Gandalf here." He
paused, his eyes growing dark. "Why Gandalf hasn't arrived I cannot
say, but without the wizard you have no guidance. So you will need
to trust me. You will need to follow my lead without questions and
without troublesome antics."
"Now just a moment--" Pippin chirped.
The ranger paused to fasten a gaze on Pippin that immediately
silenced the youngest hobbit. "You will learn to be discreet and
obedient. The success or failure of our journey, and indeed our very
lives depend upon it, so I intend to make certain you learn this
lesson."
Merry was nothing if not protective of his younger cousin. He
stepped forward, eyes flashing with anger. "Just who do you think
you are, ordering us about?" he growled. "Why should we listen to
you?"
"Merry--" Frodo began.
"Well, why should we?" Merry cried. He turned a heated frown to
Frodo. "How do we know he's to be trusted?"
Sam shouldered himself in front of Frodo and faced Merry with a
grim, "Now see here--"
"I say we were doing just fine on our own!" Merry blustered. "I say
we go back to the Inn and wait for Gandalf."
"Death awaits you there." The hobbits turned startled glances back
to Strider. "And if Gandalf doesn't come? What then, halfling?"
"Then we four will figure that out when we need to with no help from
strange and mysterious folk such as you!" Pippin chimed in.
Strider merely watched him, smirking.
Merry shifted from foot to foot. "We are NOT children in need of a
keeper!"
"No, indeed, you're not children, but you are innocents in a world
suddenly much larger than your safe little Shire. You are accustomed
to a casual manner and a measure of security. Danger surrounds you,
but you haven't the wits to see it. Left to your own devices you
would not have survived this night. So you WILL do as I say and you
WILL listen to me until I can get you to safety."
Strider's intense gaze traveled over each hobbit's face. Frodo
noted that the man hadn't raised his voice once, yet he'd made
himself quite clear, and it was his self-assured command that was
inciting Merry and Pippin as much as anything. They were an
excitable pair, unfailingly loyal, yet far too courageous for their
own good, and Frodo knew that at the heart of their current display
of belligerence was a true desire to do what was best for him. Frodo
also knew that he could stop what he felt was about to happen by
simply reasoning with the younger hobbits and asking them to do as
the man said, but he suddenly sensed that Strider could communicate
his requests much more effectively with his actions, and at the same
time secure some respect from Merry and Pippin that at present was
sorely absent. So Frodo held back and let fate take its course,
which it promptly did.
Surprisingly, Sam, who had remained fairly quiet and watchful of the
proceedings, triggered that fate.
"Well, I don't answer to you, Longshanks," he muttered. "I serve
Master Frodo. I do as HE says, and I answer only to him and Mr.
Gandalf, and I don't plan to be changing my loyalties anytime in the
near future, thank you."
Strider leveled a determined gaze at him. "Well said, Sam. And I
won't ever ask you to change those loyalties. I will however, demand
that you accept my authority at present. Allow me to convince you to
do so."
Strider moved so quickly the hobbits barely blinked, and within
seconds they faced the astonishing sight of the man back in his chair
with Sam upended over his lap. Sam had landed with an "oomph!" and
he now lay stunned into a shocked silence Frodo remembered all too
well.
The room erupted with Merry and Pippin and Sam all howling at once.
The two younger hobbits began to rush Strider, but they both paused
quite suddenly and turned astonished looks to Frodo as if wondering
why he wasn't joining them in stopping this outrage. Frodo remained
still and solemn and staring, his face warming once more in memory.
He watched Sam kick and flail and yell, his frenzy increasing when
Strider easily undid his breeches and pushed them down, uncovering
his wiggling backside. Frodo winced.
Merry and Pippin were bouncing about furiously and shouting at Frodo
and clearly flabbergasted that he was doing nothing to protest
Strider's actions. Frodo merely stood watching it all, frozen and
detached, yet very present. The first sounds of flesh meeting flesh
with determined force startled them into a sudden hush that was soon
broken by Sam's bellows. Merry and Pippin watched for a few moments,
obviously horrified, then they turned again to Frodo, yammering at
him excitedly and demanding he stop this and making a frightful show.
"Do'ya see what that man is DOING?" Pippin cried. "He's, he's--!"
"That man is SPANKING him!" Merry exclaimed. "FRODO! Wake up!
Make him STOP!"
This went on for several minutes, all to the tune of Sam's increasing
wails and the nonstop sound of Strider's tireless spanking. Then
Pippin drew forth his little blade.
"There are three of us!" he shouted. "We can TAKE him!"
Frodo shook himself from his daze and stayed Pippin's raised hand.
"Do nothing," he said.
Pippin gazed at him as if he thought Frodo had taken leave of his
senses, but Merry, who was a little bit older and even a littler bit
wiser seemed to finally realize the situation and said, "Leave off,
Pip. Do as Frodo says."
"But, but, but..." Pip swallowed hard. "But what if, what if he
decides to--"
"Hush, Pip," Merry ordered.
Sam was now laying still and fully sobbing, all the fight clearly
having left him. Frodo bravely watched his friend's indignity,
refusing to look away, staying with Sam in spirit until Strider
finished delivering his last swat and pulled Sam's breeches back up
into place over his very red bottom.
'Please,' Frodo thought, 'don't leave him.' He turned sad eyes to
Strider who was watching him knowingly. `Don't abandon him now.
Please,' he said silently.
Strider gave Frodo a gentle and very slight smile, then he scooped
Sam into his arms, shhssing him and stroking his curls. When Sam's
weeping finally quieted and he fell into hiccupping, Strider lifted
him and carried him to one of the beds, carefully depositing him
there on his side, and crouching down to rub Sam's back until he was
still. Sam glanced at Frodo, but it wasn't a reproachful or angry
glance. Strider rose and left him, and Frodo took a few steps
towards his disheveled friend, but Sam shook his head, looking
suddenly quite exhausted.
"I'm alright, Mr. Frodo," he said. "Although," he added with a
wink, "I may walk a bit...stiffly tomorrow."
Frodo released a soft sniff and a grin, but loud screams of protest
suddenly yanked his attention back to the man who was now tossing an
utterly combative Merry over his knee. Merry kept yelling that he
hadn't DONE anything to deserve this and Strider was chuckling and
suggesting that he rethink that while he bared Merry's backside with,
once again, little effort.
Frodo glanced at Pippin. The youngest hobbit was staring wide eyed
at the proceedings, seemingly frozen in place, and seemingly fully
aware of what his fate was also soon to be. They both flinched at
the first loud swat, Pip even releasing a quick gasp. Strider wasted
no time, setting up the same steady and unwavering pattern of spanks
on Merry's backside as he had with Sam.
Frodo knew what Merry was feeling. Strider had a memorable swing and
an exceedingly large hand and he used both with dismaying
efficiency. But Merry remained surprisingly closed mouthed, clearly
refusing to give this man the satisfaction of hearing him wail.
Frodo groaned inwardly. This wasn't a good tactic. Strider meant
business and Merry's stubbornness would most likely gain him nothing
but a longer spanking, but since he couldn't very well tell Merry
that, Frodo just stood by faithfully, waiting for Merry to come to
his senses.
Strider obviously read the intent of his little charge who was now
grunting with every swat. He began talking calmly to Merry, never
once breaking his rhythm.
"Let me make you aware of why you are in this position, young sir, as
it seems you feel you're being treated unfairly. I have no desire to
treat you as children, but I will not hesitate to do so if you cannot
seem to behave as adults and follow my orders."
Merry released a strangled gasp.
"I must have obedience, and I must be able to trust you to at least
attempt using common sense, but first and foremost..." Strider
paused and emphasized each word that followed with a
swat. "Discipline. Is. Needed. If. We. Are. To. Survive."
Merry groaned and began to whimper. Strider returned to his regular
pattern of spanking, and Frodo began to fret about Merry's poor
bottom, which was now quite shiny and reddened. He was just about to
say something when Merry finally succumbed and burst forth with such
a profound flood of sobbing that Strider halted at once and gathered
Merry's quaking body up into a rocking embrace. It took Merry longer
to calm down than it had Sam, but Strider held him securely, allowing
the distraught hobbit to bury his wet face against his shoulder and
simply cry it all out. He then re-fastened Merry's breeches and
delivered him to bed as he had Sam.
Frodo studied them both. By now Sam's eyes were mere slits and he
seemed to be in that twilight of peace right before sleep. Frodo
watched him for a moment, feeling a new tranquility emanating from
Sam. He then looked at Strider, who was kneeling near Merry's head,
still stroking his curls and studying him. Merry was curled on his
side facing Strider, his small body relaxed with just a slight quiver
rippling through him a few times. Strider was smiling at him
tenderly, murmuring to him.
Frodo then turned to consider Pippin. The youngest hobbit had
squished himself into the corner and he was staring at Strider,
tension shooting from his every limb, his eyes glassy with fatigue
and dread. He didn't so much as return Frodo's gaze. His focus
remained on the man who was now rising from his cousin's bedside and
heading is way.
"No." Pip shook his head. "I-I-I didn't mean anything by what I
said! I didn't. Truly!"
"I know," the ranger murmured, closing on Pip in just a few strides.
"I'm sorry, Sir! I-I'm very sorry!"
"I know you are, little one." He squatted before the frightened
hobbit. "Let's get this over with quickly, shall we?"
"Nooooo! Please!" Pip cried, crushing himself deeper into the wall.
Frodo's heart went out to his young friend. He at least had suffered
his spanking alone and without the anguish of knowing what was
coming. He watched Pippin try to kick Strider away, a totally
useless gesture that spoke more to the young hobbit's panic than his
sense. Frodo shifted nervously at Pip's howls of protest when
Strider merely hauled the thrashing little hobbit up and over to the
chair, smoothly tossing him over his knee. It was so shockingly easy
for the man, a fact that had shaken Frodo each time he witnessed it.
There were few things more alarming than the feeling of cool air on
one's unprotected and vulnerable bottom, so Pip's shrieks were
understandable, but they paled in comparison to the screams he let
fly when Strider began spanking him.
Resistance was obviously not Pippin's choice of strategy. He was, in
fact, quite impressively vocal. Frodo shot Sam and Merry concerned
looks, but the other two hobbits were completely and utterly asleep.
It gave Frodo pause. Fast asleep with flaming backsides. Hmm. He
turned his attention back to Pippin's situation, though, owing to him
the same loyalty of presence he'd shown to the others.
Strider was going no easier on the youngest hobbit than he had on
Merry and Sam, despite the increased amount of noise Pippin was
making. The ranger's handsome face glowed in the firelight, his
strong features composed, his attention focused on his task. After a
few minutes of steady bottom-warming, he began to speak.
"You most of all will need to begin a more cautious style of
behavior," he said. "You have a dangerous simplicity of manner,
little Hobbit-brat. You do NOT blather on to anyone and everyone
about who you are, and you most certainly will never again reveal the
identity of Frodo. Am I making myself clear, Master Took?"
Pippin was sobbing heartily, but he managed to
wail, "YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!! C-C-CLEARRRRRR!"
"And you will remember what happens to disobedient hobbits who behave
carelessly, won't you?"
"YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!! R-RE-REMEMBER!! I'll rememberrrrrr!!"
"THIS!" Strider delivered several quite sound spanks, causing Pip to
bawl and buck and kick his legs wildly. "This is what happens to
reckless, wayward hobbits, if, that is, they manage to survive their
own lack of wisdom. REMEMBER!"
"YESSSS, SIRRR!! REMEMMMBERRRR! I willll!"
Strider's hand stilled and he released a barely audible sigh. Pippin
collapsed completely and lay shaking and weeping over Strider's lap.
Watching the man tenderly re-fasten Pippin's breeches and then fold
the frantic little hobbit to him, Frodo swallowed a sudden tightness
in his throat, his chest flooding with warmth and a strange
serenity. Strider's eyes were closed as he comforted Pippin, but he
suddenly opened them and stared directly at Frodo, capturing him in a
sure and peaceful gaze. He murmured to Pippin, but he watched Frodo,
and Frodo felt as if the man was talking to him as much as he was the
distraught hobbit in his arms.
"Shhhhhhh," he whispered. "All's well, little one. Hush, now. It's
over. You can rest easy. Be at peace. Shhhhhhhh..."
Frodo felt himself lulled by the man's tone and words. He watched
Strider rise and care for Pippin as he had the others, tucking him
down into bed with gentling and quieting, staying there until Pip
didn't make another sound.
And then, suddenly, all was at peace. Strider moved about. He
packed and lit his long pipe and then he took the chair and his sword
back near the window and sat, looking up and down the street first.
Frodo listened to the snores of his companions and the diminishing
drained shudders of Pip. They were astonishingly asleep. Calm.
Safe. All because of the confident man who was now watching him
appraisingly.
Strider gestured to the last bed, the one he'd left open right beside
him. "Come, Frodo. You need your rest."
Frodo crossed to the bed and sat on the edge, wincing slightly. He
gazed at Strider, the sudden understanding of what this man had just
done for them all bringing tears to Frodo's eyes. Strider had
brought them peace and protection. He'd let them know that they were
not alone, that a force larger and more powerful and more
knowledgeable than themselves was watching over them, and that they
could count on that force to keep them from falling into darkness
because of their own foolishness and naiveté. And in delivering that
lesson, Strider had given them something else that was just as
important. He'd given the hobbits an outlet for their agitation and
fear. They'd all suffered the terror of pursuit by some monstrous
evil, and they'd withstood it courageously, but the strain of that
nearly unceasing threat had left them in a state of anxiety from
which they'd had no break. Not one of them would have collapsed and
dissolved into a much needed release of tension, but Strider had
given them an honorable, if somewhat undignified, reason to let it
all go. So now they slept.
Pippin whimpered a thin cry in his sleep, "remmmmmer, yessir, wi
remmemmmmer..."
Frodo and Strider exchanged soft grins. "Will they remember do you
think?" Frodo suddenly asked. "Will they be more cautious now?"
"Will you, Master Underhill?"
Frodo blinked. "I-I..."
Strider grinned and gazed off. "They will be more cautious when it
suits them to be."
He was right of course. Fordo nodded at the wisdom of this man who
clearly knew them all too well.
"And I expect they will forget to be cautious often," the man went
on, "especially the younger two. It is in their natures. So I
foresee more spankings in the future." He fastened a promissory look
on Frodo that made his still-tender bottom tingle. "There is a bit
of hobbit-brat in you all."
Frodo blushed, but there was little to be gained from protesting the
truth.
"Lie down, Frodo. You're safe for the moment. All of you are safe.
Rest while you can."
Strider eased Frodo back down onto the bed and covered him. Frodo
felt the man softly stroking his curls, and he watched the curling
trail of smoke from Strider's pipe filter amongst the blue-ish,
dreary glow from the window.
"It is a dangerous path you four are on, but now you all know the
consequences of outright foolhardiness," Strider murmured. "Rest
assured, little one, it is a lesson I'll repeat as often as it's
needed."
It was the last thing Frodo heard before drifting into sleep.