Chapter 4.
Voices. Telling him he wasn't worth it. Telling him he should die. Telling him lies.
Screams. Echoing in the void. Women pleading for their children's lives. Men praying for death to come quickly.
Visions. Horrible murders and bloodied bodies. Bones standing in every which way. Burning homes and beautiful buildings.
Frodo tried to tell himself that what he was seeing wasn't real, that it wasn't true. But it was so real. And then, it WAS real. All of it. He realized that it was real. No, but it couldn't be real. People smiled and laughed and loved. IT COULDN'T BE REAL.
He was gradually slipping into a void of hate, depression, and confusion. The thoughts were taking him over, and he couldn't resist them.
Then, a light. A blinding red light flashed from the distance, outshining and dispelling the horrible images. An eye. A lidless, unblinking eye, wreathed in flame. The eye of Sauron.
Frodo's eyes snapped open, and all he could see was darkness. He realized that someone had pulled him into the bushes and had knocked him unconscious, and then brought him here. He now understood why Pippin and the others thought that there was no hope in living. He had seen the visions too. But he had been saved.
If his head didn't throb in an almost unbearable pain, Frodo would have chuckled at how ironic the thought of his former enemy's symbol saving him. It seemed that the ring of power had some use after all.
The hobbit tried to get to his feet, but the shackles around his ankles and wrists kept him on the ground. He decided to survey his surroundings from the floor.
The air was dank and musty, and smelled of blood and sweat. The floor was carpeted with dirty straw, and the only source of light was a beam of sunlight shining through a small hole in the wall. The walls were a harsh, cold stone, lacking decoration and finesse. A wooden door was on the opposite wall of Frodo, giving him an excellent view of an attractive yellow stain on the entrance. A small, barred window stood in the center of the door, at about a hobbit's height. A small, sliding panel blocked it.
Frodo heard a moan, and looked in the direction that it had come from. There, crumpled in a dirty heap in the corner, was a battered Gandalf. He had only a single, rusty manacle around his ankle. The hobbit knew that the wizard could easily spell that single cuff off of himself.
"Gandalf!" Frodo whispered as loud as he dare, "Gandalf! Wake up Gandalf!" No reaction.
Suddenly, the old, broken man groaned loudly, and muttered something about 'death'. He shifted, bringing his head into the small beam of light available, and Frodo got his first good look of his friend's face. It was more sallow and bony than usual and his eyes were open, but the pupils were pulled to the back of the old man's head. The irises were white and wide, and the hobbit realized that Gandalf wouldn't be awake for some time.
A sound in the hall brought Frodo's eyes to the small window in the door. He listened as three sets of feet came closer to his prison cell: one set was light, nimble, and small: obviously a hobbit's. Another set was heavy, booted, and had long stride. He couldn't tell whether it was human, orc, or elf. The last set was more of a shuffle, and it sounded like claws were scraping the dirt floor. Gollum. The three stopped in front of the door, and the panel slid away, revealing a large set of watery eyes.
"Well, my preciousss," an all-to-familiar voice rasped, "it isss awake, and it looksss hungry. Ssshall we feed it, preciousss? Ssshall weee?"
The panel slid back into place, and the sound of a clinking lock echoed through the silent room. The door swung inward, kicking up dust and grime as it went. Gollum limped his way in, followed by two shady figures, one was tall, the other, short. The sudden flash of light from the lantern the tall character was holding blinded Frodo, making it impossible for him to see whom it was who had accompanied Gollum.
The twisted monster crawled right up to Frodo, sticking his deformed face right into the beaten hobbit's. His breath stank of fish and decaying animals. Small, disgusting nostrils sniffed Frodo's face and hair. The hobbit turned his head away, but clawed hands forced him to look the creature in the eye.
"Preciousss, do you think'sss it'sss hungry?" thin lips peeled away, revealing sharp, yellow teeth, "Methinksss the short one ssshould bring it sssome food."
The shorter figure shuffled from the doorway, carrying a plate and mug with it. A moldy, rotting piece of bread sat on it, along with a maggot-ridden slab of some unknown meat. He stopped next to Gollum, and held out the food.
Frodo's eyes darted up to the unknown figure's face. It was Sam.
"Sam!" Frodo foolishly yelped.
Gollum immediately hit the insolent hobbit. "It ssshould be quiet, if it valuesss itsss life." The twisted creature delicately took the decaying bread from the platter, and held it up to Frodo's mouth. "If it bitesss Gollum'sss hand, it will be hurt. My preciousss thinksss ssso."
Frodo had never smelled anything so sickening. The bread was disgustingly wet, and reeked of rotten eggs and bad fish, but he thought it wise at this time to eat it. He slowly opened his mouth, and the bread was crammed in, pushed my powerful, black fingers. The hobbit gagged as the disgusting loaf was pushed down his throat, he barely had time to chew and taste it, which he was sure he should probably be happy for.
When the bread was in, Gollum reached for the mug of water. Frodo hadn't even finished swallowing the last of the bread when a cascade of the most disgusting liquid he had ever tasted was poured down his throat. Half of it spilled on his chin and clothes.
Then Gollum grabbed the piece de resistance: the meat. Frodo couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled like a decaying sheep, so he assumed it was lamb. He was actually fairly flattered that such an expensive delicacy was chosen to be fed to him, until he was actually fed it. Most of it wasn't even meat; it was maggots and a plethora of other bugs. This time, the hobbit couldn't hold his disgust in. He threw up, emptying the contents of his stomach (the bread, and water, if you can call it that) all over himself and the already filthy straw floor.
"Aaaaaaack!" screamed Gollum, jumping away as streams of bile flowed from Frodo's mouth, "Disssgusssting Bagginsss! Preciousss triesss to feed it, and it rejectsss the deliciousss meal! It will pay, my preciousss, it will pay."
Frodo was dazed and he could hardly see, when something smacked into his face. His neck snapped back from the force of the blow, and the back of his head slammed against the wall.
Gollum had the ring of weakness pressed against his prisoner's forehead. He began murmuring incoherent words beneath his breath, and the ring began to glow an eerie light. Frodo felt a tingling sensation in his head, and he felt himself slip into a deep sleep.
"Bagginsss," the mystical creature hissed, "It hasss the protection of the eye of pain, my preciousss, thisss will be difficult." Gollum pulled his head back and looked at the ceiling, exerting all of his force into the power of his ring.
Frodo finally fell asleep.
*
The terror was receding. He no longer felt the sense of inadequacy and doom he had in the beginning. He had realized that they were all lies, produced by the ring of weakness. Gandalf was waking up.
In case of psychological intrusion, wizards train themselves to go into a trance whenever their minds are invaded. When in this trance, the wizard subconsciously studies the power that invaded his mind, and learns all about it, including its weaknesses. When he was blasted with the ring's light, Gandalf went into this trance. The old man only came out temporarily to help his friend when he was in danger of dying. But now, Gandalf had finally found the ring's weakness, and had fought off the overpowering thoughts.
His eyes flickered to their normal state, and Gandalf saw that Frodo was in trouble. Again. The wizard narrowed his eyes, so that he wouldn't draw attention to himself, and glanced around the room, surveying the situation.
Gollum had Frodo chained to the wall, and was currently invading his mind with the ring. No problem, one word would get any thoughts of damnation out of that small hobbit's head easily. Samwise Gamgee was standing next to Gollum, staring off into space, obviously brainwashed by the ring. No problem there either. Standing in the doorway was a more serious issue, though. Gollum had somehow managed to ensnare an orc in his web of suffering. But, the wizard was optimistic that he could snap that fellow out of zombie-land too.
Gandalf felt his staff in his hand, obviously Gollum had become overconfident with his newfound power.
'Well,' Gandalf thought, preparing himself for what he was about to do, 'here goes nothing!'
Note: Yeah, sure, I could have put the next chapter in with this one, but I didn't want to.
Voices. Telling him he wasn't worth it. Telling him he should die. Telling him lies.
Screams. Echoing in the void. Women pleading for their children's lives. Men praying for death to come quickly.
Visions. Horrible murders and bloodied bodies. Bones standing in every which way. Burning homes and beautiful buildings.
Frodo tried to tell himself that what he was seeing wasn't real, that it wasn't true. But it was so real. And then, it WAS real. All of it. He realized that it was real. No, but it couldn't be real. People smiled and laughed and loved. IT COULDN'T BE REAL.
He was gradually slipping into a void of hate, depression, and confusion. The thoughts were taking him over, and he couldn't resist them.
Then, a light. A blinding red light flashed from the distance, outshining and dispelling the horrible images. An eye. A lidless, unblinking eye, wreathed in flame. The eye of Sauron.
Frodo's eyes snapped open, and all he could see was darkness. He realized that someone had pulled him into the bushes and had knocked him unconscious, and then brought him here. He now understood why Pippin and the others thought that there was no hope in living. He had seen the visions too. But he had been saved.
If his head didn't throb in an almost unbearable pain, Frodo would have chuckled at how ironic the thought of his former enemy's symbol saving him. It seemed that the ring of power had some use after all.
The hobbit tried to get to his feet, but the shackles around his ankles and wrists kept him on the ground. He decided to survey his surroundings from the floor.
The air was dank and musty, and smelled of blood and sweat. The floor was carpeted with dirty straw, and the only source of light was a beam of sunlight shining through a small hole in the wall. The walls were a harsh, cold stone, lacking decoration and finesse. A wooden door was on the opposite wall of Frodo, giving him an excellent view of an attractive yellow stain on the entrance. A small, barred window stood in the center of the door, at about a hobbit's height. A small, sliding panel blocked it.
Frodo heard a moan, and looked in the direction that it had come from. There, crumpled in a dirty heap in the corner, was a battered Gandalf. He had only a single, rusty manacle around his ankle. The hobbit knew that the wizard could easily spell that single cuff off of himself.
"Gandalf!" Frodo whispered as loud as he dare, "Gandalf! Wake up Gandalf!" No reaction.
Suddenly, the old, broken man groaned loudly, and muttered something about 'death'. He shifted, bringing his head into the small beam of light available, and Frodo got his first good look of his friend's face. It was more sallow and bony than usual and his eyes were open, but the pupils were pulled to the back of the old man's head. The irises were white and wide, and the hobbit realized that Gandalf wouldn't be awake for some time.
A sound in the hall brought Frodo's eyes to the small window in the door. He listened as three sets of feet came closer to his prison cell: one set was light, nimble, and small: obviously a hobbit's. Another set was heavy, booted, and had long stride. He couldn't tell whether it was human, orc, or elf. The last set was more of a shuffle, and it sounded like claws were scraping the dirt floor. Gollum. The three stopped in front of the door, and the panel slid away, revealing a large set of watery eyes.
"Well, my preciousss," an all-to-familiar voice rasped, "it isss awake, and it looksss hungry. Ssshall we feed it, preciousss? Ssshall weee?"
The panel slid back into place, and the sound of a clinking lock echoed through the silent room. The door swung inward, kicking up dust and grime as it went. Gollum limped his way in, followed by two shady figures, one was tall, the other, short. The sudden flash of light from the lantern the tall character was holding blinded Frodo, making it impossible for him to see whom it was who had accompanied Gollum.
The twisted monster crawled right up to Frodo, sticking his deformed face right into the beaten hobbit's. His breath stank of fish and decaying animals. Small, disgusting nostrils sniffed Frodo's face and hair. The hobbit turned his head away, but clawed hands forced him to look the creature in the eye.
"Preciousss, do you think'sss it'sss hungry?" thin lips peeled away, revealing sharp, yellow teeth, "Methinksss the short one ssshould bring it sssome food."
The shorter figure shuffled from the doorway, carrying a plate and mug with it. A moldy, rotting piece of bread sat on it, along with a maggot-ridden slab of some unknown meat. He stopped next to Gollum, and held out the food.
Frodo's eyes darted up to the unknown figure's face. It was Sam.
"Sam!" Frodo foolishly yelped.
Gollum immediately hit the insolent hobbit. "It ssshould be quiet, if it valuesss itsss life." The twisted creature delicately took the decaying bread from the platter, and held it up to Frodo's mouth. "If it bitesss Gollum'sss hand, it will be hurt. My preciousss thinksss ssso."
Frodo had never smelled anything so sickening. The bread was disgustingly wet, and reeked of rotten eggs and bad fish, but he thought it wise at this time to eat it. He slowly opened his mouth, and the bread was crammed in, pushed my powerful, black fingers. The hobbit gagged as the disgusting loaf was pushed down his throat, he barely had time to chew and taste it, which he was sure he should probably be happy for.
When the bread was in, Gollum reached for the mug of water. Frodo hadn't even finished swallowing the last of the bread when a cascade of the most disgusting liquid he had ever tasted was poured down his throat. Half of it spilled on his chin and clothes.
Then Gollum grabbed the piece de resistance: the meat. Frodo couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled like a decaying sheep, so he assumed it was lamb. He was actually fairly flattered that such an expensive delicacy was chosen to be fed to him, until he was actually fed it. Most of it wasn't even meat; it was maggots and a plethora of other bugs. This time, the hobbit couldn't hold his disgust in. He threw up, emptying the contents of his stomach (the bread, and water, if you can call it that) all over himself and the already filthy straw floor.
"Aaaaaaack!" screamed Gollum, jumping away as streams of bile flowed from Frodo's mouth, "Disssgusssting Bagginsss! Preciousss triesss to feed it, and it rejectsss the deliciousss meal! It will pay, my preciousss, it will pay."
Frodo was dazed and he could hardly see, when something smacked into his face. His neck snapped back from the force of the blow, and the back of his head slammed against the wall.
Gollum had the ring of weakness pressed against his prisoner's forehead. He began murmuring incoherent words beneath his breath, and the ring began to glow an eerie light. Frodo felt a tingling sensation in his head, and he felt himself slip into a deep sleep.
"Bagginsss," the mystical creature hissed, "It hasss the protection of the eye of pain, my preciousss, thisss will be difficult." Gollum pulled his head back and looked at the ceiling, exerting all of his force into the power of his ring.
Frodo finally fell asleep.
*
The terror was receding. He no longer felt the sense of inadequacy and doom he had in the beginning. He had realized that they were all lies, produced by the ring of weakness. Gandalf was waking up.
In case of psychological intrusion, wizards train themselves to go into a trance whenever their minds are invaded. When in this trance, the wizard subconsciously studies the power that invaded his mind, and learns all about it, including its weaknesses. When he was blasted with the ring's light, Gandalf went into this trance. The old man only came out temporarily to help his friend when he was in danger of dying. But now, Gandalf had finally found the ring's weakness, and had fought off the overpowering thoughts.
His eyes flickered to their normal state, and Gandalf saw that Frodo was in trouble. Again. The wizard narrowed his eyes, so that he wouldn't draw attention to himself, and glanced around the room, surveying the situation.
Gollum had Frodo chained to the wall, and was currently invading his mind with the ring. No problem, one word would get any thoughts of damnation out of that small hobbit's head easily. Samwise Gamgee was standing next to Gollum, staring off into space, obviously brainwashed by the ring. No problem there either. Standing in the doorway was a more serious issue, though. Gollum had somehow managed to ensnare an orc in his web of suffering. But, the wizard was optimistic that he could snap that fellow out of zombie-land too.
Gandalf felt his staff in his hand, obviously Gollum had become overconfident with his newfound power.
'Well,' Gandalf thought, preparing himself for what he was about to do, 'here goes nothing!'
Note: Yeah, sure, I could have put the next chapter in with this one, but I didn't want to.