[Child of the 7th Age]

Annunfuiniel's post for Rosco:

Rosco pulled his cloak closer around himself and trudged towards the North Gate. The houses of Bree were all behind him; only the gatekeeper’s cottage loomed ahead with a twinkling light marking its window. Rosco knew that the gate was closed – or that at least it should have been so. I could easily slip by him, the hobbit thought of the gatekeeper and sneered; That drunken fool!

Yet he didn’t want to take the risk of getting caught: it would have been unbearably embarrassing! So, instead of walking to the gate, Rosco left the road and vanished into the shadows of trees and bushes on his right. The Breelander who says the Rangers brought in real news about the bad shape of this town’s defences is either blind or has lost the last remnants of his wits! Rosco puffed as he pushed through the undergrowth towards what he called ‘a travesty of a hedge’. “There are no holes in that hedge but some hedge in a hole!” The words he had uttered to his brother at Mausi’s that same morning rang in his ears and he remembered the look of disbelief that had passed over Berilac’s face. Well, tomorrow he’ll learn if I was exaggerating…

Still deep in his musings Rosco arrived at the hedge and slipped through the first hole that he met – which, to tell the truth, was right under his nose. Shaking his head he walked on wondering how on earth they would ever get the repairs done in time. Working together with the Big Folk didn’t really sound like a feasible option to him; yet he knew in his heart of hearts that it was the only solution. One option is no option but a necessity…

And added to all these dark thoughts were the words that Mausi had thrown at his face. Actually Rosco instinctively knew that – against all reason - he couldn’t concentrate on the burning issue of ravaging bandits before he had talked things through with Mausi.

As Rosco finally admitted this fact to himself, he reached the road he had left just minutes earlier. It ran along the skirts of Bree-hill, winding and twisting like a snake towards Staddle, Combe and Archet. Rosco hesitated. All he wished was to turn back and go to see Mausi: try and explain to her why he did what he did. But things weren’t that easy. Even if he had gone through the trouble of walking back there was no reason watsoever to believe that Mausi would have listened to him, let alone talked with him.

What’s to explain? I have done nothing wrong! Rosco tried to reason, but he didn’t manage to convince even himself. True, he had done nothing wrong...but nothing right either. But she and the kids are sleeping already. I can’t go there now, he reasoned. Knowing no better, he listened to this little voice of hesitation inside his head and resolved to return to Mausi at the break of dawn.

But even before he could take another step the familiar sound of cartwheels reached his pointy ears. Instinctively he stepped back ito the shadows beside the road and, holding his breath, waited for the comer. Whoever it is, it can’t be good news---that thought took form right when a pony and a little cart came into his sight. Rosco strained to see properly in the thickening darkness but couldn’t make out the form until finally the driver passed him by.

Hamson! Rosco thought - but obviously failed in the attempt to keep his thoughts to himself as the old hobbit suddenly pulled his pony to a halt.

“Away! There be nothin’ left to steal, you filthy thieves!” Old Hamson’s reaction came as a total surprise to Rosco who for a fleeting moment seriously thought of running away before his neighbour could find something within arm’s reach with which to defend himself. But somehow he managed to suppress the urge and instead of taking to flight he stepped forward from his hide.

“Hamson, it’s me, Rosco Woodfarer! What thieves are you talking about? Is there something wrong?”

“Mr. Woodfarer! Thank goodness… What be you a-doing sneaking in the shadows like that? Aye indeed, wrong is as wrong gets! Thieves and robbers, walking around like they own the land!” And the old hobbit went on describing in detail what had happened to him - and his bread - earlier. Rosco listened and tried to figure out what to do; then, seeing Hamson’s grey, wrinkled face in the pale starlight he made his decision.

“Come now, we’ll make it back to Bree. For from what you’ve told me it seems wiser to try and get into the safety of the town…” …though what safety we'll find there I’m not sure! Trying not to let his dark mood effect his tone, Rosco continued: “I know Mausi will take you under her roof for this night so that you don’t have to wake up and worry your son and his family. And tomorrow I’ll see to it that the roads are made safe again!”

[ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]