(no subject)
Lots of warnings, m’preg, non con, ruffians, hurt etc
The group of Ranger’s were surprised to find the clearing around the cottage with out guards. Under cover of the falling darkness they had made their way in stealth up to the outlaws dwelling. For months they had been seeking out this particular band and tonight they were going to clear out the nest of ruffians for once and for all and prevent them ever again looting and plundering the surrounding countryside, killing innocents.
At the head of the group Strider crouched in the shelter of the trees and listened carefully. His dark eyes scanned the gathering gloom but could detect no sight or sounds of movement.
A light was burning in the cottages only window and smoke issued from the chimney but apart from that all was still. Of a sudden though his ears detected a cry from within the hut and then the sound of rough voices, some yelling and some laughing.
A bird call told him the last of his men were in position and Strider broke cover. His boot steps were silent as he made his way across the strip of open ground to the cottage door where he paused for a moment. There were sounds from within as though a fight were taking place. Maybe it was that which had distracted the guard. A grim smile cross the Ranger’s face. It would make their job all the easier. At a signal seven grey shadows slipped out of the woods and they made their move.
Strider kicked the door open and in a moment the battle was joined. Rangers rushed into the cottage, swords drawn. By the time it was over two of the ruffians lay dead and the other four were subdued each with a Ranger guard. It had taken almost no time at all.
“Strider!” Halbarad called over to his leader.
“Secure them for transport,” Strider ordered as he joined his second who was standing by one of the cot beds. He followed Halbarard’s meaningful glance. He nodded and the two men bent as one, took an edge each and hauled the bed upwards.
For a moment Strider thought the concealed figure a child but as he bent down to reach the huddled form a large hobbit foot caught him in the chest, dumping him over backwards. Halbarad came forwards, grabbing at the mass.
“No!” a high pitched screech and the ranger found himself struggling to keep hold of a writhing clawing hobbit. Sharp teeth were sunk into his forearm and large feet kicked out wildly. Halbarad dropped the hobbit, but before it could scramble away Strider had placed a knee on its chest and rested a dagger across its throat.
The figure stilled and Strider found himself looking down into a pair of wild blue eyes, set in a dirty face. He had never seen a hobbit in such a state before. The diminutive creature was filthy, the hair of head and feet matted with tangles. It was clutching around it a blanket as filthy as the owner. Strider looked on in disgust. A hobbit? With outlaws!
“He’ll kill you soon as look at you!” cried one of the ruffians. “Filthy scum.”
“Worse than the rest of us but together!” cried another as he was hustled out.
Strider made quick work of securing the hobbits hands, then stood. The whole time the wild blue eyes had been fixed on him with a look of hatred and fear in them. “Take him on your horse,” Strider told Halbarad. “He’d too easily slip out of the cart.”
For a moment Strider was left alone in the cottage. This had been a fit dwelling once, and could be made so again. He would send some one out to carry out repairs and clear up. Some poor family in Bree might welcome the cottage. Maybe one of the families these ruffians had burnt out of house and home for their defiance.
But what was a hobbit doing here. Strider had never heard of a hobbit joined with outlaws. It made him feel sick that one of the gentle, merry creatures had chosen this way of life.
Determining to think no more about it Strider turned on his heel and strode from the cottage but during the ride back to Bree he found his mind returning more than once to the silent and surly figure which rode in front of Halbarad. True, there were good and bad in all races but a hobbit turned to violence and crime was almost unheard of. He tried again to dismiss the hobbit from his mind. It was now up to the law in Bree to decide the creature’s punishment. The outlaw band had committed several murders and it was likely that they would all hand for their crimes. The hobbit included.
It was late by the time Strider returned to the room at the Inn he was temporarily sharing with Halbarad. His second was already sitting by the wire cleaning and caring for his weapons when Strider came in and sat down with a weary sigh to pull of his boots.
“I have made our reports to the Justice,” Strider said. “Was there any further trouble at the jail?”
“No,” Halbarad stood to fetch a mug and pitcher which he had waiting for his chief. “Though that hobbit bothers me.”
“I know.”
“I could not get a word out of him. I put him in a separate cell.” Halbarad shook his head. “His eyes, in the lamp light. It was like a creature already dead.”
“In a weeks time he probably will be so,” Strider drank off the ale, but it would not take the sour taste from his mouth.
tbc