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======A Dream or A Shadow?======
*This Takes Place on the road to Rivendell, just after Weathertop.*
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He tried to move the chains that bound his bleeding wrist to the cold dungeon wall, but his wrists were held fast…and too weak. Tears fell down his dirt-streaked cheeks as he forced his eyes open. He was in a lot of pain…and the only light came from a tiny little window far in the ceiling. Echoes of the cries of other prisoners reached his ears, but none that he could hear more clearly than the moans of pain from the figure that lay on the cold floor of his cell. He knew she was dying, and he knew the reason why. He struggled again.
*Where is the ring?* A voice echoed into the cell, a clawed hand clutching the bars as the hollow eyes of his jailer. *Tell us and she lives…*
The ring…the ring…he couldn't remember. He did not even remember how he had been captured. "Gailethil…" he moaned looking at the body of the one person that he loved as it was curled into a shivering, weak heap on the floor. Her dress was torn and dirty, blood stained it from the scars of the torture he'd been forced to witness. He had given it to someone…but he could not remember who. Just before he was captured.
"Frodo.." she murmured his name…at least he knew she was still conscious. Through the little light that came from the window he saw…..and unbidden the scene of her torture rose to his mind.
She had been placed…on a stone cold slab while he was held by two orcs. She had been turned over on her stomach, her wrists tightly clamped in irons. Then…one orc had pulled on a lever, stretching her arms and legs until she was taunt…and every time they stopped, the crack of the whip would come down on her back. He shuddered, remembering her screams. After each crack…they would turn the wheel again…and she would be stretched in pain.
His own face was flushed…and he knew he was running a high fever…he forced his gaze towards the cell gate where the White King was watching them. "Never…" he swore, licking blood from the side of his lip that was still swelling from an earlier blow.
"So you truly want her to die?" the cell-door opened as the terrible White King and two orcs entered. One of the orcs dragged Gailethil to her feet. Her eyes were tightly closed, her disheveled hair hanging limp, and her dress barely clinging to her form. Angry welts from where the whip had struck on the back of her arms were clear and visible against the once unmarred…beautiful skin. Silken's hair was pulled back so that Frodo could see her face, still untouched. At that moment, her eyes opened and through a haze of pain she tried to focus…seeing Frodo.
"You won't kill her." Frodo said quietly, staring in anguish, desperately trying to convey how much he loved her with his eyes. "I know…."
"Don't tell them…" she begged Frodo just before closing her eyes weakly again. "Don't give up…don't try to save me…the Ring is more important…don't give in…"
The White King sneered, "No…we won't kill her…but she -will- suffer." he traced a nail down Frodo's bare neck…and then his chest. "As long as she lives…you will eventually break…and we will have the Ring.."
"Please…please leave her here." Frodo tried to beg, but he knew it was useless.
And the White King laughed as the orcs dragged her away.
"No!…." he cried out, unable to bear the thought of her in pain anymore, he didn't have the strength…he couldn't go on… "Gailethil…Gailethil…I love you….Stop…I'll tell you…I'll give you the Ring…I'll bring it here…Please…I'll tell you everything…" he struggled violently, the chains cutting into his wrists. "No!!!!! Don't take her away…Gailethil!" and his anguish fell to deaf ears…as he was alone now in the dark cell…alone…as he ever had been in his life. "Don't take her away…" he begged helplessly, an icy chill wracking his little body.
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And he cried when he awoke that day, sobbing as the fever still clung to him unrelenting. Aragorn did not let him rest…and they moved on as he sat on bill…moving in and out of consciousness. He didn't dare sleep…or dream…for he could not tell anymore what was a dream and what were shadows. He felt a warm hand against his as he looked down…there she was walking with him…but was she a dream or a shadow…his eyes closed in pain. No one else could see her, he would get to Rivendell…and they would tell him she did not exist…Even if she was real…he was her doom…they would use her against him…no matter how she comforted him now….he finally understood what he was up against…and he felt his resolve slipping away as terror clung to his heart for he knew that he would never be able to stand against them…if somehow they got hold of her.
Gailethil's hand was warm in his, so filled with life and energy…his guardian…his angel…how could he not fight…"Stay with us, Frodo…" she begged him gently. "You're almost there.."
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======A Dream or A Shadow?======
*This Takes Place on the road to Rivendell, just after Weathertop.*
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He tried to move the chains that bound his bleeding wrist to the cold dungeon wall, but his wrists were held fast…and too weak. Tears fell down his dirt-streaked cheeks as he forced his eyes open. He was in a lot of pain…and the only light came from a tiny little window far in the ceiling. Echoes of the cries of other prisoners reached his ears, but none that he could hear more clearly than the moans of pain from the figure that lay on the cold floor of his cell. He knew she was dying, and he knew the reason why. He struggled again.
*Where is the ring?* A voice echoed into the cell, a clawed hand clutching the bars as the hollow eyes of his jailer. *Tell us and she lives…*
The ring…the ring…he couldn't remember. He did not even remember how he had been captured. "Gailethil…" he moaned looking at the body of the one person that he loved as it was curled into a shivering, weak heap on the floor. Her dress was torn and dirty, blood stained it from the scars of the torture he'd been forced to witness. He had given it to someone…but he could not remember who. Just before he was captured.
"Frodo.." she murmured his name…at least he knew she was still conscious. Through the little light that came from the window he saw…..and unbidden the scene of her torture rose to his mind.
She had been placed…on a stone cold slab while he was held by two orcs. She had been turned over on her stomach, her wrists tightly clamped in irons. Then…one orc had pulled on a lever, stretching her arms and legs until she was taunt…and every time they stopped, the crack of the whip would come down on her back. He shuddered, remembering her screams. After each crack…they would turn the wheel again…and she would be stretched in pain.
His own face was flushed…and he knew he was running a high fever…he forced his gaze towards the cell gate where the White King was watching them. "Never…" he swore, licking blood from the side of his lip that was still swelling from an earlier blow.
"So you truly want her to die?" the cell-door opened as the terrible White King and two orcs entered. One of the orcs dragged Gailethil to her feet. Her eyes were tightly closed, her disheveled hair hanging limp, and her dress barely clinging to her form. Angry welts from where the whip had struck on the back of her arms were clear and visible against the once unmarred…beautiful skin. Silken's hair was pulled back so that Frodo could see her face, still untouched. At that moment, her eyes opened and through a haze of pain she tried to focus…seeing Frodo.
"You won't kill her." Frodo said quietly, staring in anguish, desperately trying to convey how much he loved her with his eyes. "I know…."
"Don't tell them…" she begged Frodo just before closing her eyes weakly again. "Don't give up…don't try to save me…the Ring is more important…don't give in…"
The White King sneered, "No…we won't kill her…but she -will- suffer." he traced a nail down Frodo's bare neck…and then his chest. "As long as she lives…you will eventually break…and we will have the Ring.."
"Please…please leave her here." Frodo tried to beg, but he knew it was useless.
And the White King laughed as the orcs dragged her away.
"No!…." he cried out, unable to bear the thought of her in pain anymore, he didn't have the strength…he couldn't go on… "Gailethil…Gailethil…I love you….Stop…I'll tell you…I'll give you the Ring…I'll bring it here…Please…I'll tell you everything…" he struggled violently, the chains cutting into his wrists. "No!!!!! Don't take her away…Gailethil!" and his anguish fell to deaf ears…as he was alone now in the dark cell…alone…as he ever had been in his life. "Don't take her away…" he begged helplessly, an icy chill wracking his little body.
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And he cried when he awoke that day, sobbing as the fever still clung to him unrelenting. Aragorn did not let him rest…and they moved on as he sat on bill…moving in and out of consciousness. He didn't dare sleep…or dream…for he could not tell anymore what was a dream and what were shadows. He felt a warm hand against his as he looked down…there she was walking with him…but was she a dream or a shadow…his eyes closed in pain. No one else could see her, he would get to Rivendell…and they would tell him she did not exist…Even if she was real…he was her doom…they would use her against him…no matter how she comforted him now….he finally understood what he was up against…and he felt his resolve slipping away as terror clung to his heart for he knew that he would never be able to stand against them…if somehow they got hold of her.
Gailethil's hand was warm in his, so filled with life and energy…his guardian…his angel…how could he not fight…"Stay with us, Frodo…" she begged him gently. "You're almost there.."
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