By: Dana
Summary: The story of Jed Tunnelly's homecoming.
Characters: Aster Tunnelly, Tolby Tunnelly, Jed Tunnelly; their parents, and other relations, and other characters, minor and major canon characters and original characters included
Pairings: Nothing really - over the course of the story, both het and slash pairings will be either mentioned and/or implied
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, violence implied and revisited, OC-fest, Tunnelly Love
Author's Notes: This story is, admittedly, mostly gen with some pairings going on, on the side - there is het as well as slash, and if you are very sensitive to that, then you might not want to read this story. This story is, in a long line of other stories dealing with a certain stretch of time while the Travellers are away, a story about the Troubles.
I would like to thank/blame slightlytookish for giving me the comment that first got me set on writing this story. If it hadn't been for her, I'd not have ended up writing a novella-length piece of fanfic about original hobbit characters. ♥
Series Index: In a Sunless Year.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

          SR 1419

          from Afterlithe to Blotmath

He couldn't tell what had brought it on, only that it had – and then he remembered being grabbed by his collar, swung up and off of his feet. Now, the waggon went along, bumping as it did, and Jed knew this could have ended off worse than it had, though he somehow wondered how it might have been worse – well, they hadn't taken Aster, and they hadn't hurt Da, and they hadn't burned down the farmhouse. Jed was still on his back, in the back of the waggon, and the sky overhead was wide and endless blue.

The Men spoke to each other, their voices low and rough. A laugh, and the hair at the nape of Jed's neck prickled up, and one of the Men gave a rough pull on Jed's hair. He shut his eyes and didn't say a thing, and he heard another laugh. 'Might have preferred it better off if we'd left with that pretty bit instead,' he said. 'Would have been prettier company, at least.'

Jed shuddered but didn't say a thing. He let his head rest against the wooden bed of the waggon, and he heard another laugh. 'Now, y'ought not hurt this here little rat's feelings. He's got as accommodating a mouth, though maybe not as pretty as that little bit's,' and Jed tensed him, and didn't breathe, and found himself expecting the worst.

'Now what I want,' said one of the Men, going on, 'is sweet Laurel – worked at the inn at Bree – mind, not at the Pony. Oh, but she had more than just an accommodating mouth, if you know as what I'm saying!'

'No real time for our pleasures,' another sighed. 'Well, better off, I think. I'd rather not go associating with these rats!' The sound of spitting, and a growl. 'No more than as needed, at any length.'

And on they went: their rough voices drifting back and forth, above his head. 'I'll just wait on my Laurel – maybe it won't be long 'til we're Bree-bound again, and out of this wretched place.'

'Maybe, maybe – but maybe Harry took his chance and took up with her, and you having left her behind!'

Jed found it odd that he relaxed, then, as they started up at arguing overhead – but he hardly thought himself at risk, not right now, anyhow. He relaxed, and shifted onto his side, tried to give his bound hands some relief. The waggon kept on bumping as it went along, and the Men quieted down most of the way. He rested his head against the waggon bed, shut his eyes and thought of nothing – but then he thought of Aster, her eyes wide and tears on her cheeks, torn and helpless. And feeling no more brave than he had felt, and him knowing he hadn't felt brave at all. It really wasn't as terrible as it might have been, really, and he tried to see the comfort in that – they hadn't taken Aster.

He felt as thought he'd shut himself off from the world around him, the waggon bed, and the Men as they laughed and talked – it grew more and more distant, but then his head felt as empty as faded dreaming, and all he knew, really, is that it wasn't as terrible as it might have been.

They left him in the back of the waggon while the bushels were unloaded, but then one of them grabbed him up and put him back down on his feet. He'd been on his side in the waggon so long, and when one of the Men pulled him out of it, put him down on the ground, his legs nearly gave out beneath him. He bit his lip and concentrated, felt pin-pricks and numbness in his legs, and knew that he was going down – one of the Men laughed, took hold of him by the collar, and jerked him up.

'Don't loll about, rat,' he said, and dragged Jed after him as they went up to the door. Ominous looking, and Jed caught his breath – his head did loll to the side, though, and he saw how there were other Men, unloading their new stock from the bed of the waggon. The Man gave a sharp rap on the door, holding onto Jed's collar, and Jed was swung inside once the door was open, and he landed uneasily on his feet, then went down.

There was laughing, of course there was laughing, and Jed was swung up off his feet once more, his thoughts racing, panicked –

'This one,' the Man said sharply to the one that held Jed now, 'needs to learn a bit of respect.'

Respect came as a beating, and it was done just because it could be – the Men just showing off what they could do, and how they could do it as they liked. When Jed woke again (and he was glad he had blacked out), he was in a dark cell on the ground, curled up on his side. He wasn't bound, but that seemed like only a very small thing when there wasn't any hope.

He woke and found that he was not alone. 'Here, drink this – we haven't much, and you look as though you need it.' The hobbit who offered him the small, dented cup, looked older than him, and Jed nodded and took the cup. The water in it tasted dirty, and he reacted and almost spat it out – but he thought, if this was the best they had, it was better to take it in than not.

'Good lad,' the hobbit said. 'What's your name?'

'Jed.' Jed coughed, and turned his head. He held his hand up as he coughed once more, and the hobbit patted him hard on the back. 'Jed Tunnelly, at your...' he almost laughed, then shook his head. 'At your service, sir.'

The hobbit laughed and offered Jed more of the water, though only a small amount more. 'Here, drink up,' and Jed took the cup once more, and did.

It was the first kindness Jed was offered there, though not the last – the other prisoners, at least, looked with kindly pity on those younger tweens who had been dragged in, and oftentimes Jed would have wanted to turn that kindness away, not thinking it was right he have while someone else didn't – but they were very insistent, and would have their way (and one day, he would look back and wonder at himself, and he'd not know why he'd not asked after that other hobbit's name).

So it went on, and time came and fell again, and Jed lost track of the days. He heard that there were lasses locked up as well, and he thought of Topaz and wondered if he might have some chance at seeing her, but that chance never came. But time went on, still, for all he had lost track of it, and the days were endless and they all blurred together. It had been more than a week, he was sure of that at least, but couldn't tell if it had been one long month, or two.

But maybe it had already been longer than that, and he'd die here in the darkness without seeing the sun again. And when he thought that, he was hardly as cheerless as he might have been – given his situation, it wasn't a very hard thing to think, and there were those who had it worse off, those the Men drug off, and they'd not be seen again. But there were those that came back, new bruises or broken bones (the Men fancied breaking the fingers, it seemed, and Jed wondered if they were fond, as well, of breaking other bones).

'I need your help,' the hobbit said – Mosco, Jed thought his name was. Jed nodded, and picked himself up off his feet – but not before making certain that the guard was not watching them, as he was hardly that bold. But then he followed after Mosco, creeping along in the darkness. 'Have you had any healer's training?' Mosco asked him, though he didn't look back. 'Well, even if you haven't, I still need your help.'

Jed nodded. 'My uncle is a healer,' he said, and he hadn't ever considered following that path on his own. Mosco nodded back at him. 'My uncle is a healer – I've seen him work, before, I think I might... I think I might at least be some small help.'

'My brother...'

In Mosco's cell, there was another hobbit on the ground, balled up on his side, his breathing low and very erratic, scattered like wind. 'This is my brother, Moro. They took him for questioning, thinking that might get me to break. I don't even know how they would... well, that's hardly hear or there. His knee is out, and we need to pop it back into place. Have you had any experience with that?'

Jed shuddered, then nodded. 'Dislocated my shoulder once, when I was very small, and I think... well, I think I might be some help.' Mosco nodded back at him, and then Mosco gathered Moro up, soothing a hand back through his hair until Moro became coherent once more. Jed sat back, nervous and raw, and Mosco whispered a number of things at Moro, and then Moro broke out sobbing, and held onto him and Mosco told him how his knee was still out, and how Jed would help them with that. Jed didn't know if he could be of any help, was almost as frightened as Moro must have been, and Mosco told Moro how he'd told Jed what he needed to do.

Mosco nodded at him, and Jed remembered what his uncle had told him, tried to keep that in mind, tried to do this how his uncle might have – though, there wouldn't be anything for the pain, and the only thing Mosco could offer Moro was his own hand to bite down on, if it was needed.

Moro screamed when Jed first touched him, and Jed startled back and felt his head spinning. But Moro told him to do it, and Jed nodded and bit his lip and then let out his breath, and he thought of his uncle and took hold of Moro's leg and he forced his knee back into place, heard the sickening but still reassuring crack of the bone, and, though he was left shaking, he'd known he'd done his job well. Jed could only wonder what his Uncle Tib might say.

After that, he wondered other things: how his Ma and Da were, and Tolby and Aster, and Tolby's very bad break – maybe there was more to it than Tolby had said, more to it than Tolby would ever say. And if Moro had screamed again, Jed hadn't heard him, and sometime after that, Moro thanked him for all his help and Jed smiled back at him, but felt shaken still, and very weak. Maybe it had only been luck, but maybe he had only been playing his own part as he ought to.

Jed wandered from darkness into light, his legs weak beneath him though somehow they found the strength to carry him on. It had been a very long time since he had lost track of the passing days – he couldn't tell how long it had been, and though the air was warm, there was the hint of autumn on the breeze.

And so he found Topaz outside – or maybe it was Topaz who had found him – Topaz, her face dirty and her dress torn, her hands dirty as well. He had known she was there, all along, or at least he had hoped she was – no matter how he tried to look for her, he hadn't been able to track her down. They kept the lasses separate from the lads and, he could only hope, they kept separate the pains they inflicted, as well.

And Jed, too glad to see her, could only collapse into her embrace, and they knelt on the ground and held each other. 'I hadn't known you were here,' she whispered against his ear. 'Are you well? Did they hurt you?'

'For the most, I think they left me alone.'

He was more concerned that she had gone unharmed, but she fussed over him and brushed at each bruise she found, whether it was very old or very new. He told her how Ferdi had brought news of her, and then she smiled and said she would have words with him for that – she could only guess at the risk he'd put himself in. Then she asked how it had happened, how he had been brought to this place as well, and he told him, the two of them sitting together under the sun.

For all he didn't want anything more than to up and take himself home, they spent the night and then three days after at Michel Delving. It was good, though, as he did need the rest, and it was good to eat as well, though he didn't eat as much as he could, or as quickly as he once might have. He knew there were some who were very bad off, and there were those who had fallen when the Lockholes had been overrun and taken back – news of their deaths would be carried to their families. Jed knew, there were others who had died, their bodies long gone. If the names weren't known, if the bodies were long gone, he wondered how news might find its way back to their families as well.

Jed didn't go looking for Pippin Took – Pippin, his old friend, came looking for him instead. Pippin seemed changed, more than just a difference in height, and Jed told him how his new colours suited him, and Pippin smiled and then laughed and hugged him as tight as he dared. And Jed hugged Pippin, felt small and awkward, and wanted to go home.

'I'm bound for Buckland with Merry, with some stops along the way. Now, I could – '

'No – you'll come visit at Applegrove when everything is dealt with, but I'd not take you from Merry, not now. You. Oh, you will come visit, won't you?'

Pippin nodded, and the lines of his face might have seemed somehow too severe, but then he smiled and, once more, he was the very same lad as ever, the one that Jed had almost always known.

A number of waggons were rented from local hobbits, and Topaz sat with Jed in the back of one, and Jed let Topaz lean against him. They would go to Applegrove, and then Topaz would sort herself out and make her way back to Great Smials. She needed to see her parents, though, and Jed was very glad that he had not had to force her into agreeing to go. She could be very stubborn, when she put her mind to it.

Their waggon was one of the last to set out, after noon, and the sun was westering above them long before they came to Waymeet – another of the waggons continued east, but they turned south and followed that road. Jed insisted he would see Topaz home, and they went to Uncle Tib's place first and Jed was there was Aunt Opal and Uncle Tib gathered Topaz up, and Aunt Opal fussed over her daughter and then took her back into the smial. But Uncle Tib went to Jed, gathered him up, and Jed realised his was crying – so, he wept against his Uncle's shoulder, and then Uncle Tib led him into the smial.

A bit of tea, just to calm his nerves, and Aunt Opal put a full plate before Jed and wouldn't let him up until he'd finished it. 'You're naught but skin and bones, lad!' she told him, but he knew he wasn't as bad off as all that, and he wasn't as bad off as some. Before he left the smial (and Uncle Tob told Jed he would walk with him, or take him in his own carriage, but Jed shook his head and told his Aunt and his Uncle that he needed to walk), he went and found Topaz, sitting in her room – even if she spent more time at Great Smials, this was still home.

She was sitting on her bed, brushing the tangles from her hair, and she put down the brush and rose as Jed knocked at her open door, then came into her room. 'I'm going to go home,' he said, and he felt frightened though he knew he shouldn't. She asked him, would he want her to go as well, but he shook his head once more and told her what she had told Uncle Tib, and she smiled and nodded and kissed him on the forehead. He looked her in the eyes, and she looked trouble but he wouldn't have her speak of it, and she'd not made him speak of his own troubles.

So he left Uncle Tib's, and he walked the short distance between his smial and Applegrove, taking the road and taking his time, the sun westering as he did. When he saw the farmhouse, it was just a distant smudge: but he continued walking, and he didn't grow more and more tired – instead, he seemed light as air, now that he had his goal.

He took the land that led up off the road, and he took his time still as he came to the farmyard, and he saw Aster standing near the barn, clucking to herself as she scattered feed at her feet.

'Oh, go on!' she laughed though it didn't seem merry. 'There's more than enough for all of you, no need to peck and fight!'

He had made it back, he was home – the farmhouse at his right hand, the barn at his left, the road at his back, the old well up ahead and his sister looking down at the chickens as they fed. She reached into the feeding-pail once more, but hesitated, his shadow stretching out before her.

She turned, and looked up and at him, and her eyes grew wide and the feeding-pail fell from her hand.

'Jeddy,' she said, and even though she knew she was still standing, she felt the ground drop out from beneath her feet, felt cold though not in a bad way, even though the day was bright and very warm. And Jed smiled at her, and his eyes were worn and the lines of his face were sharp and narrow – he'd lost weight, and there were bruises, some older than others. She stood fully, and she did not throw herself at him (not when she thought he might break), but she did gather him up in her arms and press her face against his shoulder. 'You've come home! You've come home! However did you manage...' She drew back, and she searched his face, and he didn't say a thing at all, not at first. Instead, he looked away.

'I need to get you inside,' she said. 'Ma and Da and Tolby...'

He nodded and they went inside together, her holding onto his hand, not pulling him along but going at his own pace. He had a number of things to say, but didn't have much chance to speak, not with all the hugging and the crying, and the joy at his return. They all went to Tolby's room, and Tolby sat up and his eyes were wide, and he sat up and he would have stumbled from bed, if Jed hadn't gone to him and knelt at the edge of his bed, took him in his own arms.

The days had all worn together, but he had come back home – she'd been standing in the farmyard, and a long shadow fell across her line of vision – she gave up on idle conversation with the chickens, and her eyes grew wide and then she gasped. He had come home, and it seemed impossible, beyond any belief.

There were tears on her cheeks, falling hard and hot and fast, and there were hugs and there were more tears, and her Ma went out to the kitchen and they all gathered there as well, Tolby too. He went out on his crutches, and Aster couldn't remember the last time she'd seem him up and out of bed. The table was set for five, and they ate a quick, cold meal, though their Ma promising them that she'd make them all a feast.

(And Jed had looked at Tolby, as if he knew something that Aster didn't, and there had been too much dread and fear in Tolby's eyes, of late – but at that one glance from Jed, and Tolby did not seem so terrified, so alone.)

Jed was home! He had come back! And Topaz was safe as well, he told him that she was, and it all seemed like it was all too good to be true, that Jed had come home, that he was alive and whole. The year been miserable, and the summer had been hard, but the autumn had brought them new joy.