Chapter 1
"No!""I said, give it to me!" Saruman stood over him, red-faced."Never!" Frodo rolled to the side to avoid the next blow, but another orc grabbed his arms and held him down."I already said I don't have it!" Frodo hissed through his teeth as he continued to be kicked brutally."What about your friends?" Frodo's baby blue eyes lost its haziness as he forced his sweaty face into a painful glare."Don't even think about it.""Is it with your comrades?" Saruman repeated, staring deeply into the hobbit's face, trying to find out whether Frodo's face was lying or not. So far, it remained in a fiercely adamant scowl. When he realised he would not get anything out of the former Ring bearer, he stepped back and nodded once to the surrounding orcs in the background.Frodo felt a severe shock equivalent to lightning go through his body. Saruman's face was blank as he watched him pant and shake from the impact, chains rattling."Where is the Locket of Lothlorien?"He bent over Frodo, his aged face finally catching up with him. It was hard to say which face showed more hatred."Continue to suffer, then."Frodo screamed, his throat threatening to burst as all the tears he had so successfully been restrained so previously streamed down his face.He came to with Pippin's pinched face inches away from his own. Startled, he jumped up from bed, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks from the close proximity. Someone else happened to have noticed too.
"Give him some space, Pippin. He doesn't need your face so close as to give him nightmares." Merry scolded, his eyes watching Frodo for his peculiar reaction. Pippin scowled resentfully at being chided so early in the morning but let himself be pulled back, for Frodo's sake.
Frodo, meanwhile, had tensed up from the word, "nightmares", but was trying his best not to show it. He was not a young child, to go to his cousins for his help, but it seemed so real, and perhaps he had considered going to the King for assistance, but he was almost certain that he would not believe him. After all, it was only elves that had the gift of foresight.
"Are you alright, Frodo?" Pippin asked, finally breaking up his silent but furious argument with Merry for his lack of attention. Usually, Frodo hated being woken up so early, especially by his cousins and on most days they would receive a mild telling off before they were thrown out. However, that didn't stop them from jumping on him when he came down for meals.
"Yes, I'm... okay." Frodo chose his words carefully, careful not to mention the phrase, "fine" because even he knew he was most certainly not.
"Are you certain?" Merry pestered, something Frodo also preferred not to be addressed to, but in this case he was too shaken up by his nightmare. So, instead he replied by smiling lightly and sliding off his bed - it was quite large for his short legs.
But his cousins continued to stare at him as he chose his clothes for the day and were still waiting outside by the time he came out.
Frodo didn't blame them. He took a good look in the mirror while he was grooming, and he didn't like what he saw. His eyes were pink like he had been crying; although he had no memory of doing so - but he rememberer what had happened in the dream- abruptly Sam rounded the corner and the topic of discussion was changed to food, although Frodo did not miss the glances that were thrown his way as they walked.