Solid Frodo: Hobbit Espionage Action

Chapter 16: Random Acts of Nonsense Before the Plot Starts Back Up Again

Frodo set his head back down, but the other Hobbits stared at Otacon like he’d gone insane.

"Wha...what’s so funny Otacon?" Pippin asked, since apparently it was something he did that was making the scientist cry with laughter.

It took Otacon a good few minutes to regain his composure enough to even pretend to speak. When he had, he said, "See, Pippin...when...heee...heee!" and he was lost for another solid three minutes laughing hysterically. In the background they heard the guard cursing up a blue streak and moaning and agonizing.

Again, Otacon managed to get some control over himself, but his speech was still punctuated by giggling fits. And he looked like he was hurting too; a good laugh like that could be very painful. He removed his glasses and wiped his sleeve across his eyes, and then replaced them. "See...obviously Hobbits don’t have indoor plumbing."

"No, we have chamber pots and out-houses," Merry said, unsure what that had anything to do with anything.

"Well...with plumbing...hee...and this is so something a kid in elementary school would do...see...if you drop a small explosive down a toilet, and it explodes...it forces the water in all the other connected toilets out with kinda violent force."

Pippin’s eyes widened. "You mean...that soldier...he...he...?" The image of that soldier drenched in...well, let’s just say the image made Pippin double over laughing too, and when Merry realized what it meant he also started giggling hysterically. Of course, this meant Otacon lost what little control he had gained over his mirth, so he started in again as well.

Only Sam and Frodo heard the guard complaining about people laughing at him on top of catching a cold and having his clothes stolen by some woman. Only they heard the soldier exit the stall, slopping and slurping as he walked down the hallway, probably to go find something dry to wear. Sam smiled faintly about it, but Frodo had his mind turned far too inward to care.

When once again Otacon and the two younger Hobbits managed to stop laughing, and there remained only the last vestiges of one righteously incredible laughing fit, Sam asked him, "Mr. Otacon, how long do we have left?"

Before Otacon could answer, Sam turned his head down, chin nearly to his chest so he could hear Frodo’s whispering. "Oh...," Sam said, and then turned to Otacon. "We’re going to stay here a little while, Mr. Otacon."

Otacon pushed up his glasses. "But what about the nuke? Aren’t you going to stop it?"

"Well...Mr. Frodo says we don’t need to. I’m sure we’ll end up destroying Metal Gear REX...that seems like an important thing to do, for your world’s sake, but there’s no danger of them launching a ‘nuke’." He paused for a moment, and looked down at Frodo. "Besides, he needs to rest, for a little while."

Otacon gaped. "No danger of launching a nuke? How do you know?"

"Mr. Frodo told me they don’t have the launch codes. They have the ArmsTech president’s, but not the DARPA Chief’s. Mr. Frodo said Revolver Ocelot killed the DARPA Chief before they got the code."

"REALLY?!" Otacon shouted, shocked. "They killed the DARPA Chief?"

Sam nodded, then bent his ear down again to listen to Frodo. "He says that we met Decoy Octopus. He said they didn’t know what killed ‘Baker and Octopus’."

"Wow. That’s really incredible." Otacon shoved his glasses up again and sat down near Sam and Frodo. "So...how long do you think you guys will wait here? I hope Revolver doesn’t come back, but he might."

Sam furrowed his brow. "I hadn’t thought of that. We can’t stay long then. But Frodo can’t go anywhere like this."

"I bet a ration would help," Otacon suggested.

"Maybe." Sam listened once again, then said, "He says he can’t eat anything right now, his throat hurts too much."

"I guess that’s why he’s whispering so quiet?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly Frodo started weakly pawing at Sam and trying to speak with a voice, but nothing came out but a hoarse, dry creaking. "What’s the matter?" Sam asked, and tried to get Frodo to calm down enough to whisper normally so he could understand him.

Holding a hand to his throat, Frodo finally managed to say one word with voice. "Ring," he said, and it looked like it hurt him a lot to say it.

"Oh! I...well...Pippin! Merry!"

"Huh? What?" the two younger Hobbits said. They had been previously doing nothing more interesting than sitting back and relaxing on some boxes, kicking their feet and sharing a smoke.

"Did you find It?"

"Oh," Pippin said, "yes, It’s in the box here, along with everything else Frodo had. Except that thing the president gave him."

"Would you get It out? Frodo’s...uh...he wants It."

"OK," Pippin said, and he stood up and went through the box of Frodo’s belongings. He pulled out Sting, which he hadn’t sheathed because it was covered in oil...which reminded him that he also was similarly covered, then set it aside. A little more searching, and he carefully pulled the Ring out by its silver chain, not wanting to risk touching the thing for fear of what it might do to him. He handed the chain and the Ring to Sam.

Otacon sat on his hands so he wouldn’t try touching the Ring again, since it nearly got him killed last time. Sam didn’t seem too concerned about handling the Ring, and he put the chain over Frodo’s head. As soon as the Ring touched his chest, Frodo grabbed it, even though the movement obviously hurt him.

For a moment Frodo looked angry and was breathing hard—Sam recognized the look, and knew it was just a temporary thing...Frodo probably thought someone had stolen the Ring and the idea upset him to no end. But soon he relaxed and let go of it.

Otacon tried very very hard not to stare at it. There really was something about that Ring that made him want to snatch it and try it on. It looked like it would fit too.... Quickly, Otacon turned away and tried to think of something else. He was certain that even though Frodo had just been tortured twice and was clearly miserable from lingering after effects, if that Ring was touched Otacon would have a faceful of sword again.

After a second Sam said, "We could get you dressed a little, Mr. Frodo, if you’re cold." Frodo whispered something back, and Sam called for Merry and Pippin again. "Would you two help Mr. Frodo get his mail shirt and cloak on? I don’t think he’s up to trying to get that sticky-tight Sneaking Suit on, but he’s cold."

Pippin and Merry shrugged, not seeing any reason why they couldn’t do that. So Merry fished out the mithril corslet while Pippin went to get the cloak. But he stopped himself...he was filthy, and he felt like it would be a shame to get Frodo’s cloak all dirty with oil.

"Otacon," Pippin asked, "is there anything I can wash myself off with?"

Otacon snickered and smiled broadly. "There’s the bathroom which you just flooded."

Pippin wrinkled his nose. "Nothing else?"

Again Otacon laughed. "There’s the cells you flooded."

Pippin slumped his shoulders. "Besides that?"

"There might be a sink and some towels in the...lab. That’s what they call it, the Medical Lab. Provided you didn’t flood that too!"

"Ugh," Pippin muttered, and went into the room with the hacked up rack. He was surprised to find towels in there, so he quickly wiped himself off and brought one back to clean Sting. As soon as he returned, he saw Merry trying to slip Frodo’s mithril coat on, but failing miserably at it...and if Frodo’s expression meant anything, failing miserably had more than one meaning.

"Meriadoc...I don’t think that’s how it goes!" Pippin scolded.

"Then help me!" Merry grumped. Pippin went over and tried to help, but the coat was trickier to get on than it looked, unless the two were doing something desperately wrong. As far as they could tell, it was something one slipped over one’s head and arms. They didn’t see any buttons or fasteners on it outside the diamond and pearl encrusted belt.

After Merry’s first abortive attempt, Pippin and Merry tried twice more—the first attempt ended up with one of Frodo’s arms pinned to his side. The second attempt had both of Frodo’s arms pinned. It would have been funny if it wasn’t making tears streak down Frodo’s face.

"OK look you two," Otacon said. "You obviously have no idea what you’re doing. Haven’t you ever dressed a Barbie doll before? You have to do this...," and he proceeded to help Merry and Pippin get Frodo’s corslet on without hurting him any more than they had to.

The cloak was much easier, and they managed to clasp it and wrap it around Frodo with a minimum of trouble. As soon as they were done, Frodo leaned back on Sam and looked to have fallen asleep.

"Well, that’s done. Now...Otacon...what exactly is a Barbie doll?" Pippin asked.

"Uh, ah...er...nothing. I meant authentically dressed action figure, not Barbie doll."

"You are very odd, Otacon," Merry said. Kuduk didn’t really have a word that was different for ‘doll’ or ‘action figure’, but Hobbit-lads and lasses both played with little figures, some of which had clothes that could be changed. But they were usually made of cloth, so were a little easier to dress than say, a real Hobbit that had bones and everything.

Otacon drooped slightly, then sat back down next to Sam. Merry and Pippin hopped back up on the boxes they had been sitting on and started smoking again. After a few minutes, Merry asked, "You know, I think Frodo’s going to have trouble talking for a while."

"Less needling me that way," Pippin said sullenly.

"Hush Pippin. It’s not like we don’t all do it to each other. Anyway, Sam and I can fill in for Frodo I’m sure. What I meant was Frodo might want a pen and some paper to write on until he gets his voice back."

"I’m sure I can find some," Otacon said, and he got up to go look for a pad of paper and a pen.

In the mean time, Pippin and Merry just sat and swung their legs for a little while. Then Pippin cleared his throat and said, "I was kinda forgetting something," he said, looking at Sam and Frodo, who had both gone back to a state of obliviousness.

"What’s that?" Merry asked.

"Well...you were right...you know, they were in Mordor. I just...well...I forgot I let you do something like that in Gondor."

"Huh? When?" Merry asked, genuinely confused.

"When you came in off the field, after you and Éowyn...well, after that. You were sick, and I let you sleep on me sorta the same way."

Merry shuddered slightly. "I don’t remember much of what happened...after.... But you did? That was nice of you."

"I did, and I was just being a fool of a Took again just now."

Merry rested his hand on Pippin’s shoulder. "Sorry I yelled at you about it. I think Sam was right, this whole situation is stressful in ways Hobbits weren’t meant to deal with."

"I did know about Rose. I think everyone from Hobbiton to Tuckborough knows that. I was being stupid."

"Stop it Peregrin. Just a little momentary lapse, totally understandable considering we were all quite stressed, and they didn’t hear it anyway, so don’t worry about it," Merry insisted. "Besides, if you don’t stop moping I’ll be forced to do something rash."

"Oh? It’s OK for Frodo to mope and not me?"

"Frodo’s got a better excuse. Besides, he’s always been a bit on the brooding side. You, however...it sounds very strange to hear you mope. And I don’t want to have to do something rash."

"Like what?" Pippin asked, curious.

"Like this!" Merry exclaimed, and grabbed Pippin in a headlock and gave him a thorough noogie.

"Hey! Stop it! Cut it out!" Pippin cried.

"Not until you promise to stop moping!"

"Fine! I promise, now lemmego!"

Merry was good to his word, and let Pippin go. "That hurts you know," Pippin grumped, rubbing his head.

"Anything to get you to be your normal incorrigible self," Merry smiled.

Pippin crossed his arms and glared at Merry for a moment. Then he stuck his nose in the air and said with a note of finality, "I’m taller than you."

Merry squeaked in outrage, but controlled himself. "I will not be baited Cousin Took."

Pippin snickered but attempted to maintain his look of haughty disdain.

Suddenly Merry was staring at Sam. Pippin caught the look and wondered why, but he too was soon caught up staring. Sometime while the two Hobbits had been talking, a rather remarkable change had come over Sam’s face. They had recently seen him angrier than they had ever known Sam capable of being; now they saw something they couldn’t really define but found almost as hard to look at as Sam’s fury. Adoration maybe...passion definitely...it was a strength of emotion difficult to put into words. Both Hobbits suddenly realized that not only would Sam jump down a dragon’s throat for Frodo, which was something pretty widely known, but that he would also fight a dragon with his bare hands if he had to. A subtle difference maybe, and yet....

They scooted over to have a closer look, because Sam was watching the sleeping Frodo, and it seemed this odd expression came from that. Pippin carefully pulled back Frodo’s hood, and neither of the older Hobbits seemed to notice. Sam’s hand was still stroking Frodo’s hair, softly. Now Sam had dark skin, darker than the other Hobbits, fairly close to the same color as Bilbo—Merry and Pippin were fairer, nevertheless still what one might call tanned, but Frodo had light skin, something of a rarity among Hobbits and spoke to some strong Fallowhide strain in him. Normally the Hobbits wouldn’t notice this, but now...Sam’s hand looked very dark indeed.

It took a few seconds to realize why. Then Merry and Pippin gasped. Frodo was...glowing. Like an Elf. Not as strong as an Elf, but the faint light was unmistakable. "Wait, he said he got himself a glow, didn’t he?" Pippin asked.

"Yeah he did...but...we shouldn’t be able to see it!" Merry returned.

Pippin held out a hand toward Frodo. "Well should or shouldn’t, there it is."

"Hey, Sam!" Merry said, a little hesitantly, as he didn’t much feel like interrupting him.

"Huh?" Sam said, looking up. The intense expression left his face quickly.

"Um, does...does he do that very often?" Merry pointed at Frodo.

Sam looked back down at Frodo. "Not often. When he’s weak...when he’s sleeping." Sam almost looked like he was ready to cry.

"Oh, I didn’t mean to do that! Don’t cry Sam!" Merry insisted.

Sam tried not to, and he was successful for the most part. "It’s just I wish all this didn’t have to happen. I wish we could all be back in the Shire, and he didn’t have to get a glow...I love him, you know, and I woulda got that glow for him, at least the bad part with the Ringwraiths, and took that Ring too if I coulda." He held Frodo a little closer now.

"We know," Pippin said. "I think we all would have...or wish we would have." He realized that he didn’t love Frodo with quite the same single-minded intensity that Sam did.

Merry pushed the Elf hood back in place and then returned to the boxes he’d been sitting on for the last several minutes. He wasn’t sure what to think. That glow had an affect on him. It was obvious it just made Sam realize how deeply he loved Frodo, but for Merry, he wasn’t sure what it made him feel. Love, certainly; he had always loved Frodo—they were cousins and best friends. It made him feel something else too, and he wanted to think about it for a while before he tried to put it into words, even in thought. When Pippin joined him on the next box over, Merry could see he was thinking similar things.

So they sat and thought for a long while, occasionally smoking a little, but not much as Merry didn’t want to run out of weed. Then Pippin up and blurted out, "Sam, you’re going to have a whole brood of kids aren’t you."

Sam looked up and blushed a little. "Well...I...well...maybe. I want to have kids. Kinda need to get married first though."

"I just got this feeling you would be a good dad, I don’t know why," Pippin replied, but he wasn’t exactly telling the truth. Sam was holding Frodo like he were his son almost, and maybe Frodo liked that, not having had a father of his own for very long.

"I don’t think you’ll have to worry about the getting married part," Merry said with a laugh. "Now I, on the other hand...I don’t think anyone likes me."

"Now I think I saw Estella watching you a bit," Sam said with a wink.

"What? No, serious?" Merry said, blushing a very deep red.

"I’m staying out of this gossip," Pippin said.

"Diamond," Sam said, and that made Pippin squirm.

"I thought I said I was staying out of this!"

"He’s not old enough anyway, Sam," Merry said, grinning at his cousin’s sudden fit of discomfort. "Although Diamond is quite pretty."

"Quiet!" Pippin demanded.

Fortunately, Pippin was rescued from further harassment from his friends by Otacon’s return. "I got some paper and a pen. Oh, and a ration, some ketchup, and maybe you can use this." He handed the small pile of stuff to Merry. The other object was a lace handkerchief that smelled like it had perfume on it.

"What’s this?" he asked, holding it up.

Otacon shuffled his feet and adjusted his glasses. "Sniper Wolf gave it to me. She’s nice. She lets me feed the dogs."

Merry looked at the handkerchief. "Well...if it’s Sniper Wolf’s, maybe the Wargs would leave us alone. But how can you say she’s nice?! She shot Meryl and if it hadn’t been for her, Frodo wouldn’t have gotten into this bit of mess!"

"But she’s nice to me," Otacon said, looking at the floor.

Merry frowned, thinking it rather odd, but suspecting that Otacon might like Sniper Wolf a bit. "Well...I don’t trust her at all."

Pippin grabbed the bottle of ketchup. "What’s this for?"

"It’s a condiment. It might make the rations taste better."

"Ooo, that’s a plan. Let’s test it out, shall we?" Merry agreed with the plan, and opened the ration Otacon brought. They were about to give Sam a share, but he was off somewhere else again, so instead they offered it to Otacon.

"No, that’s OK. I’m fine, thanks."

"Suit yourself," Merry said, and so he and Pippin each took half the ration and poured a little ketchup on it. The ketchup did seem to improve the flavor by quite a bit, but that wasn’t saying a lot, since the rations tasted horrid in the first place.

"Better than nothing I guess," Pippin said as he thoughtfully chewed a bite.

"Certainly. But it does make you want some lembas though, doesn’t it," Merry replied.

"Don’t remind me."

After they finished eating, Pippin took the paper and pen and gave it to Frodo, waking him up in the process. This was perhaps unwise, but Pippin didn’t see the glare Sam was giving him. "Try it out. We thought you could use it," Pippin said to Frodo, who picked up the pen weakly.

Otacon had a sudden thought that Hobbits might not have ball-point pens, so he took the pen and scribbled a little on the paper. "I wasn’t sure if you only used quill pens or not." He handed the pen back to Frodo.

"Oh, that’s neat, you don’t have to dip it?" Pippin asked.

"No, the ink’s all inside."

Frowning, Frodo put the pen to the paper and slowly wrote something on it in the Kuduk version of tengwar. Then he held the paper up for Pippin and Merry to see.

"FRODO!" Pippin exclaimed, "That’s not nice!"

"I didn’t know you knew words like that Frodo!" Merry said with as much shock as Pippin felt.

Frodo was a very polite, gentle-spoken Hobbit, but apparently he was in quite the snit at the moment, for what he had written on the paper was unrepeatable, but amounted to ‘Shut up I’m trying to sleep.’ Then the oldest Hobbit shifted a little, buried his face in Sam’s shoulder, and went back to sleep.

Sam picked up the paper and looked at it, a bit taken aback. The handwriting was much weaker than Frodo’s norm, but the words were quite a bit stronger. "I think we should let him sleep," Sam said, somewhat annoyed himself that they had awakened his master before he was ready.

Otacon reached for the paper and Sam handed it to him. "Wow...this is really neat looking," he said, referring to the tengwar since clearly he couldn’t read it.

"The writing is called tengwar...it’s Fëanorian. Anyway, I’m sure no one will mind if you keep that sheet, I shan’t think I’d like to see it again," Merry said.

"I agree. Keep the paper. It’s rather...unpleasant to someone who can read it," Pippin agreed wholeheartedly.

"OK," Otacon said, tearing off the sheet and admiring the shape of the script. "Maybe you could write some more later?"

"Maybe, but I’m not writing anything like that," Pippin declared adamantly.

"Thanks," Otacon said, handing the pad to Pippin. "I have to go. Don’t stay here too long. I have a feeling Ocelot might come back soon."

"All right," Merry said. "Thanks for the help."

"Anytime," Otacon said as he walked down the hall. "Call me if you need anything else." Then they heard him giggling when he turned the corner, and stepping carefully through all the water Pippin had managed to get everywhere.

Go on to Chapter 17