Chance Encounter, part 29
Apr. 5th, 2005 04:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamflowerIn which Menelcar overhears something not meant for his ears...
PART 29
After his luncheon with the hobbits, Menelcar made his way down toward the lower levels. He had a free afternoon, and he missed the bustle of the taverns and street corners.
He saw a couple of friends of his, one playing a lute, the other, a fiddle, busking on one of the corners. Careful to stay out of their line of vision, he nevertheless managed to drop a couple of coins in the hat that lay on the ground nearby. They were of substantially larger denomination than any of the other coins already there, and he imagined with pleasure his friends’ surprise when they came to count their take later. But he did not want them to know he had been there. He was sure news of his good fortune in being appointed Court Bard had already made the rounds of all the performers in the City, and they were sure to guess who their benefactor was if they caught sight of him.
Soon enough, he would be putting word on the street that he would be looking for more players and performers at the palace. So far, he grinned to himself, very few were aware that the King was hoping for another celebration before long. One that would mean even more to him than his coronation.
He stopped at a tavern, The Queen’s Cats, and went in to find a table out of the way, where he could sip an ale, and think in peace.
“They’re the apple of the King’s eye…” The voice was a bit oily and insinuating.
His ears caught the sound of the low conversation taking place behind him. There was something furtive about it, which he did not care for.
“So I hear. Not much he wouldn’t do for them, or give them little creatures.” This voice, rough and gravelly.
Menelcar raised his brows. They *had* to be talking about the hobbits.
“They’re not staying in the Citadel no more,” said a third voice with just a bit of a lisp.
“This is true,” said the first one. “I hear they’re staying at one of the King’s guesthouses. But they’ve got the wizard, Dwarf and Elf staying there as well. We’ll have to get an opportunity to speak to one of them away from there.”
“Do you think it will work?” said the third voice.
“Oh, I think it will. The word is they are as soft-hearted as they come, and would likely believe any hard-luck story they might be told.”
Menelcar felt a rage building at the obvious plot to take advantage of his small friends. The hobbits were much shrewder than these villains were giving them credit for, but if a sad story were plausible enough--well, he could imagine that Pippin, for one, might be taken in. He did not think that they would find it so easy to take Merry in, or Frodo. Sam, though, was like Pippin--he, too, might believe such a story, if it were told well enough.
“Do you think we can find one alone? Does it matter which one?” asked the second voice.
“I think only one or two of them will be enough. As I said, the King will do anything for them.”
There was a bit of rough laughter, and the three plotters got up to go out. Menelcar observed them carefully, and then threw the payment for his ale on the table, and sauntered out as well, trying to keep them in sight, without being spotted.
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PART 29
After his luncheon with the hobbits, Menelcar made his way down toward the lower levels. He had a free afternoon, and he missed the bustle of the taverns and street corners.
He saw a couple of friends of his, one playing a lute, the other, a fiddle, busking on one of the corners. Careful to stay out of their line of vision, he nevertheless managed to drop a couple of coins in the hat that lay on the ground nearby. They were of substantially larger denomination than any of the other coins already there, and he imagined with pleasure his friends’ surprise when they came to count their take later. But he did not want them to know he had been there. He was sure news of his good fortune in being appointed Court Bard had already made the rounds of all the performers in the City, and they were sure to guess who their benefactor was if they caught sight of him.
Soon enough, he would be putting word on the street that he would be looking for more players and performers at the palace. So far, he grinned to himself, very few were aware that the King was hoping for another celebration before long. One that would mean even more to him than his coronation.
He stopped at a tavern, The Queen’s Cats, and went in to find a table out of the way, where he could sip an ale, and think in peace.
“They’re the apple of the King’s eye…” The voice was a bit oily and insinuating.
His ears caught the sound of the low conversation taking place behind him. There was something furtive about it, which he did not care for.
“So I hear. Not much he wouldn’t do for them, or give them little creatures.” This voice, rough and gravelly.
Menelcar raised his brows. They *had* to be talking about the hobbits.
“They’re not staying in the Citadel no more,” said a third voice with just a bit of a lisp.
“This is true,” said the first one. “I hear they’re staying at one of the King’s guesthouses. But they’ve got the wizard, Dwarf and Elf staying there as well. We’ll have to get an opportunity to speak to one of them away from there.”
“Do you think it will work?” said the third voice.
“Oh, I think it will. The word is they are as soft-hearted as they come, and would likely believe any hard-luck story they might be told.”
Menelcar felt a rage building at the obvious plot to take advantage of his small friends. The hobbits were much shrewder than these villains were giving them credit for, but if a sad story were plausible enough--well, he could imagine that Pippin, for one, might be taken in. He did not think that they would find it so easy to take Merry in, or Frodo. Sam, though, was like Pippin--he, too, might believe such a story, if it were told well enough.
“Do you think we can find one alone? Does it matter which one?” asked the second voice.
“I think only one or two of them will be enough. As I said, the King will do anything for them.”
There was a bit of rough laughter, and the three plotters got up to go out. Menelcar observed them carefully, and then threw the payment for his ale on the table, and sauntered out as well, trying to keep them in sight, without being spotted.
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-04-04 11:58 pm (UTC):D
no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 03:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 03:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 06:32 am (UTC)The scum are looking on the hobbits as being naive little creatures - they might be surprised. Pippin is pretty impetuous, but he has felled a troll, Sam thinks well of almost everyone, but he is chock-full of common sense and (really) as tough as old boots by now under his shy and deferential manner and Frodo and Merry are too sharp to fall for 'oily and insinuating.' Or hopefully 'gravelly and rough'. I would rather like to see this pair get their comeuppance at the hands of the hobbits, without having the Big People charge in to the rescue. (Except for Menelcar, of course.)
Because the scum are right. Controlling the hobbits would compel Aragorn to give them what they wanted. Though they might not live long to enjoy it.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 03:41 pm (UTC)Of course, with Menelcar on the job, they are already plumb out of luck...
no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 03:36 pm (UTC)