Short Stories and Drabbles

Oak & Shield

Note: This first one is Sentinel/Guide AU I don't know much about this fandom other than it exists and the VERY basics so it's pretty much the basic idea and whatever my head decided it was after that. The basics are Guides apparently have defensive type powers and Sentinels have offensive type powers and they form powerful bonds with one another to become powerful teams.

Bilbo Baggins, formerly of Bag End, crouched behind a bush and watched the band of Humans slavers until every last one had fallen asleep.

He balanced easily on the balls of his feet, one hand barely touching the ground. The only movement came from the firelight reflecting off his pupils.

The fools hadn't even bothered to post a watch. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a near feral grin, this would be easy.

Word of the kidnapped children had come nearly a week earlier, and the fact it happened at all rankled. Either the Humans had been watching, or they had unspeakably good luck. They struck when the Rangers and Bilbo, by pure chance, been on opposite sides of the Shire. It had left a great big open path straight down the middle, and that's just where they had come.

The failing was inexcusable, especially when there were so few children left anymore. Bilbo had barely slept, and couldn't remember the last time he eaten. He'd spent his entire time casting outward with his mind, searching endlessly for the children. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, but he'd cornered his prey at last.

His eyes tracked to the children where they huddled in a miserable group near the back. All were present and seemed relatively unharmed, the sight easing some of the tension Bilbo had carried since they'd been lost.

The six taken were far too young to have manifested as Sentinels or Guides meaning the foul creatures planned to sell them as slaves in various towns and cities. He wasn't sure why they'd gone so far into the Wild, days from the nearest population but perhaps they already had a buyer lined up and were meeting them.

At the thought Bilbo's hand, gripping the hilt of his sword, tightened, longing to draw the weapon and kill the lot of them for daring to lay a hand on a Hobbit child.

He controlled himself, though, and instead moved almost without sound until he was far enough he could stand and hurry back to where four Rangers waited in a nearby glade, hooded and cloaked and nearly lost in the shadows.

"They're asleep," Bilbo said and, as one, the four Men drew their own weapons.

Bilbo drew his as well and together they slid toward the clearing. As they did Bilbo cast out once more, flinching at the burst of pain to his overtaxed mind, silencing their footsteps beyond what was possible by Human or Hobbit standards.

They drifted into the camp like wisps of smoke, and slit the throats of the slavers before they had a chance to understand what was happening.

Arathorn, the leader of the group, moved immediately to the children and began untying them. They began to cry, one of the boys launching himself at the Ranger and clinging to him the second he was released.