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Middle-earth Adventure Journal! - 34
🕑 Added 2025-10-01 17:28:58 +0000 UTCChapter 34: Took of Tookland
"What's going on with these orcs?" Aedric asked, flicking his wrist. His longsword sliced a silver arc through the air, dark blood sliding down the blade before dripping into the grass.
He had already guessed the situation but needed confirmation. Several hundred orcs had scattered in chaos. With only two elves and twenty rangers pursuing them, they were too few to eliminate them all. Just as he'd predicted, most enemies were slain, but scattered groups of orcs would have to be dealt with by the Hobbits themselves.
"I'm not entirely sure," Lester replied, scratching his head with disgust plain on his face. "Recently, those filthy scum keep coming to steal. At first they came silently at night. Old Took gathered the militia and drove them off once. But this time they struck during dinner when everyone was occupied."
"Bah, scum." He spat on the orc corpses, bent down to retrieve a hen that had been bitten to death, examined it carefully, then tossed it back with regret. He gestured for his men to burn the bodies. Once orcs had bitten something, it couldn't be eaten.
"We encountered them not long ago too—probably just roaming thieves," Glóin's loud voice rang out. "Lester, can you find us lodging in town?"
He had no desire to stand guard all night against orc harassment. They still had a long journey tomorrow.
"That's..." Lester eyed the caravan's scale and hesitated. Tookland was small and not a major transit hub. Some caravans passed through, but not many. Most villagers were members or relatives of the Took family, so inns or similar establishments were rare. There was a tavern, but it offered no overnight stays and couldn't accommodate so many people.
The largest house in town was the Great Smial, ancestral home of the Took family. After tidying, it could easily house a dozen people, and its yard could hold the cargo. The problem was that Lester didn't have the authority to decide.
"We're old friends, after all," Glóin leaned in and whispered. "If needed, I can contribute some coin."
"It's not about money," Lester waved his hand quickly. "We've known each other a long time. You helped just now, so I should arrange lodging. But the town's been unsettled lately due to those thieves. I doubt many are willing to open their doors."
Glóin wasn't ready to give up. "Please help us out. When we make the next delivery, I'll give the villagers a ten-percent discount."
He wasn't afraid to face orcs in battle. What worried him was his people not resting well. If theft continued, it would only worsen.
"That needs Old Took's approval," Lester said, troubled. He glanced at Aedric. "Who is this stranger?"
They had to be cautious before informing Old Took.
"Uncle Lester, he's the hero who saved Kristina and me!" The girl jumped from the cart and flew into the militia captain's arms like a butterfly.
Bilbo and Morgan put away their weapons and followed.
"You're finally back, my little rascal!" Lester beamed, hugging his niece tightly. "I knew you went to that cursed place—Barrow-downs—and wanted to find you immediately. But Old Took forbade it, saying it would be suicide. He said he'd break my arms and legs first to stop me."
"You know I'm already stout. If he broke my legs and arms, I'd be like a ball, just rolling to save you—who knows how long that would take." This was a joke to cheer up his niece, expressing his concern and frustration at being unable to help.
"Thank you, Uncle Lester." Kristina caught on and whispered, "Can you please persuade Father and Old Took not to punish me?"
"Oh, my clever little one." Lester dramatically released her and put on a stern face. "I can't help you. You'll be stuck in the library for a long time until Old Took is satisfied."
"Hmph." Kristina wrinkled her nose and stomped away, then glanced back at Uncle Bilbo, who just shrugged helplessly.
Lester straightened his clothes, strode forward, removed his hat, and bowed deeply to Aedric. "You must be the respected Master Aedric. Old Took instructed that if you come to Tookland, you are to be received with the highest hospitality." He gestured for them to follow. "Please come with me. Old Took will be very pleased to hear of your arrival."
Aedric found the formality somewhat odd but knew that Hobbits' Common Speech had no polite forms—the same "you" served all contexts. The Dúnedain and dwarves also found this strange, but it was a Hobbit tradition passed down for thousands of years. Understanding the meaning sufficed.
"No need for such formality," Aedric said, then hesitated before asking shyly, "Can my friends also stay in the village for the night?"
He saw Glóin repeatedly winking at him—a plea for help. These dwarves were stubborn, sometimes incredibly so. Whenever there was time during the journey, Bilbo and Morgan would cook splendid meals in astonishing variety. Stews with mushrooms, bacon, potatoes, and onions—all bright and fragrant. Golden, crispy pancakes filled with meat, vegetables, and cheese sizzling in pans. When the caravan camped near streams, they enjoyed crispy fried fish and creamy, delicious fish soup. Morgan's fishing skills surpassed even Mr. Baggins'.
Aedric was happy to keep them company. As for the bounty... best not mentioned.
Every mealtime, the camp filled with the aroma of delicious food. Aedric even saw dwarves swallowing hard, glancing his way—but none came over to eat. Especially Gimli. He and Aedric had talked happily during the journey and were nearly friends, but he didn't come, preferring to dine with his kin.
This time, Glóin knew he had to compromise.
"No problem. I think Old Took won't refuse," Lester agreed immediately.
"Brothers, pack up and move!" Glóin gave Aedric a thumbs-up and called to his kin.
Tookland's gate became lively once more.
Gimli carried his double-bladed axe and strode after Aedric. "You're fast. Your swordsmanship is good—accurate and fierce!"
"You're not slow either," Aedric smiled.
"Not as many kills as you made," Gimli muttered.
"If there's a chance, we'll compare next time," Aedric said casually. Next time? When would that be? Probably at the War of the Ring.
"Agreed." Surprisingly, Gimli nodded seriously.
At the Great Smial's gate, Old Took and his family came out to greet them from a distance. Honestly, their relationship was essentially transactional. He paid; Aedric did work. Fair and square. In theory, neither owed the other.
But in this complicated world, those with strength and courage were not always short on coin. When trouble came, paying money didn't guarantee help. Those who risked their lives earning your coin were doing you a favor. As a clan head, Took understood that. Moreover, there was trouble now needing attention.
Originally, Took wanted Gandalf's help—an old family friend—but Gandalf's whereabouts were unknown. Now Aedric had come; perhaps he could help.
Coming closer, Took's eyes brightened seeing the silver star on Aedric's chest. He quickly approached, smiling broadly. "My dear friend, it's truly good to see you."
"Thank you for your invitation, Old Took," Aedric smiled back. "I'm glad to meet you again."
He introduced his companion. "This is Morgan Gray-shadow."
"Hello, hello," Took greeted warmly, then pulled them toward the house, ordering, "Quickly prepare a feast. Tonight, I am hosting the brave warrior who saved Kristina—forever friend of the Took family."
Lester stepped forward and whispered with the dwarf for a moment—likely about lodging arrangements.
"No problem at all. Quickly send people to tidy the house and grounds," Took agreed instantly.
Lester departed with the dwarves.
At that moment, Bilbo helped the shy Kristina over. Took's smile vanished as he patted Bilbo's shoulder. "You did very well. I told you last time in Thornfield not to blame yourself. Don't feel guilty anymore. Relax tonight. You are a hero who saved two children."
Aedric saw Bilbo breathe out and relax. He was a kind man indeed.
"By the way." Took furrowed his brow, seeming to recall something. "Your uncle and aunt came a few days ago. They said you haven't been home for three months, might have died outside, and want to auction Bag End's furniture and inherit the house."
"I told them off harshly. When you get home, carefully check if anything is missing. If there's any problem, come find me."
"What?" Bilbo's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
Took then turned sternly to Kristina. "You little troublemaker, have a good reunion with your parents tonight. But at dawn tomorrow, you go to the library and copy books. Only when you finish Shire Agriculture can you come out!"
"What?!" Kristina wailed. "That has nearly ten thousand words!"
"Hmph." Took frowned. "Who told you to run away? This will teach you a lesson! Bilbo, take Kristina back and watch her closely. Don't let her run again!"
"All right, cousin." Bilbo recovered and nodded, dragging the reluctant niece away.
The clan leader's authority was clear in that moment.
"Master Aedric, Master Morgan." Took's face brightened with smiles again. "Come, let's chat in the sitting room."
"No need for such formality, Old Took. Call me Ford. We're friends."
Took's full name was Fortinbras II Took; friends naturally called him Ford.
"Just call me Aedric."
"Agreed."
They chatted while entering the sitting room; Morgan followed silently. He disliked speaking before strangers and preferred listening.
Soon the three sat down. The last rays of sunset shone through the window, bathing the tea table and chairs in golden light. Furnishings were simple and cozy, expressing Hobbits' contentment.
Took's wife, Lalia, brought tea and snacks, then quietly left.
After a few cups of tea, casual chat, and three pipes smoked, the conversation turned serious.
Took set down his teacup, gathering his words. "Aedric, what are your plans next? Anything else occupying you?"
"I have a new friend who asked me to handle some trouble in Bree," Aedric didn't hide his plans. "But there's something I want to ask your help with. I'm traveling with Glóin's caravan."
"Oh? What trouble?" Took's eyes brightened. "If I can help, I certainly will."
"It's like this." Aedric explained his thought about a letter of introduction.
"No problem. I happen to know the mayor of Bree. I can help with that." Took pounded his chest confidently.
"Mayor?" Aedric exhaled smoke, asking curiously, "Is there no lord there?"
"Lord?" Took laughed heartily. "Aedric, I don't know how it is down south, but here in the North, there haven't been any lords for many years. No lords in the Shire, Buckland, or Bree!"
"Oh, right, the elves have them. I remember Elrond of Rivendell calls himself lord, but he doesn't rule us."
As Shire Thain, Ford naturally knew more about their neighbors. He knew Rangers existed and fought orcs endlessly, but not the origins of the Dúnedain.
"I see," Aedric nodded. Without lords, things were simpler.
"So, Ford, you probably have some troubles needing my help, correct?"
