Welcome!
FrodoBaggins1982 - Wow! Thanks for the compliments on my writing. Glad you enjoyed the different perspectives of the characters as they pondered Frodo's whereabouts. They may have gone home empty - handed for the moment, but they're not giving up.
Aelfgifu - Glad you enjoyed Merry's thoughts on Sam. I'd say Merry more than approves of Frodo's friendship with him. As for writing evil hobbit dialogue, yes. It's surprisingly fun. I'm beginning to think I need therapy after listening to the voice of Bramblethorn in my head!
Aratlithiel - How are Sam, Merry and Pippin going to find Frodo? Time will tell. Meanwhile, if Frodo - in - trouble fics are your thing, you're in the right place. He's definitely in some trouble, I'd say. Read on and see if you're in agreement!
Endymion - A good point about Sam not discovering Frodo's absence until late morning. I thought about that, but decided for this story to have the three of them make the discovery at the same time for effect. Merry and Pippin are aware of the events two years earlier, but aren't drawing the same possible conclusions as Sam since they had less involvement.
TTTurtle - If you've been wondering what was going on with Frodo while the others are trying to find him, here's the answer. Meanwhile the search for Frodo continues.
Misstook1420 - Yes, poor Frodo! He may never let me write about him again after this!
To all of you, a huge thanks for getting on board and making this story a success. Whether it's good or bad, it would be nothing without you guys taking the time to check it out.
The Way of Vengeance Chapter 6 - Meanwhile
"Wake up, Frodo, love. It's morning." That voice again. Frodo groaned and stirred slightly. Morning? How could one tell in this hole with the windows boarded up? He blinked several times as his vision cleared slightly. He could see small shafts of light pushing their way in through thin spaces between the boards over the windows, but no other indication that the sun had risen.
Bramblethorn reached behind Frodo's head and removed the gag from his mouth. "The dawn has come, Frodo. Tell me, did you sleep well?" He leaned over Frodo's bound form and continued, "Pleasant dreams I hope?"
Frodo remained silent. His dreams were none of Bramblethorn's business. He closed his eyes again.
Bramblethorn grabbed him and propped him up in a sitting position. "No more dreaming for now, my love. We must greet the day." He held a teacup to Frodo's lips. Frodo looked at it, but did not move to take a sip.
"Come now, Frodo. It's tea, nothing more. Do you think I'm trying to poison you?" Bramblethorn asked. "I'm hurt, my dearest. I thought we'd have tea together and chat." Bramblethorn raised the cup again, and Frodo reluctantly took a couple of swallows. It wouldn't be wise to add dehydration to his problems, and he decided it was safe enough. Bramblethorn would have nothing to gain by killing him now, with that document as yet unsigned.
"Have you considered my proposition, Frodo?" Bramblethorn asked, as if he had offered to sell Frodo a prized Shire pony and was merely waiting to close the deal.
"What you propose," Frodo said slowly but clearly, "is preposterous. To allow you back in the Shire would be no better than allowing wolves among the farmers' flocks!"
Bramblethorn laughed at the analogy. "In your opinion, at least," he said, "but really, Frodo. What crime have I committed, other than to fall victim to your charms?" He touched Frodo's face, lightly tracing over his cheekbone. Scratches remained there from when he had thrown Frodo against the tree on their trek from Hobbiton. Frodo pulled away sharply.
Trying to replace fear with resolve, Frodo looked at Bramblethorn as steadily as he could manage. "Please spare me your claims of innocence. I've heard the tales -" he began, but Bramblethorn cut him off.
"You have? I've heard many tales as well. You, as a Baggins, should be accustomed to tales. After all, a great many are told in Hobbiton regarding your, shall we say, 'interesting' family." Bramblethorn raised his own teacup and his eyebrows as he spoke.
Frodo had heard it all before. It was no news to him that the name of Baggins was thought to go hand in hand with rather odd behavior, or at least behavior that was deemed odd by his fellow hobbits. Keeping company with elves and dwarves was unusual, as was journeying far from the Shire for a long period of time. Bilbo had done all those things, and come back to the Shire again with stories of magnificent adventures. Others had called Bilbo mad or cracked, or a number of other descriptive terms. Frodo had never allowed it to bother him, since he admired Bilbo for standing out.
"Many things have been said, both flattering and otherwise," Frodo stated quietly. "In any case, the name of Baggins has been connected with merely odd behavior, not behavior of a cruel or depraved sort."
"Depraved? Cruel? You think these things of me." He considered. "And perhaps I have given you good reason. Perhaps I will continue to do so." He smiled and Frodo felt as though the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees. "That is really up to you, Frodo. We must reach an understanding of the situation."
"I understand the situation," Frodo answered, knowing he was on dangerous ground but wholly unwilling to tread the other path that was offered. "I understand that you do not feel there is anything wrong with harming someone else as long as it suits your need."
"Have I truly harmed you, Frodo?" Bramblethorn was looking at his prisoner searchingly. "No, Frodo Baggins, I have not harmed you." He leaned closer until he was staring directly into Frodo's deep blue eyes. "Not yet." Those words came out in a low hiss that set Frodo's nerves on end.
Bramblethorn rose and paced for a moment. "So I take it," he said slowly, "you have not changed your mind and decided to cooperate?"
Frodo steeled himself. "I have not changed my mind in the slightest."
Bramblethorn looked at him sharply and strode back across the room to kneel at Frodo's side. Frodo expected another stinging slap to the face for his insolence. He did not expect the almost gentle caress behind his ear, trailing down across his neck to the base of his throat. Bramblethorn gripped the front of Frodo's shirt and tore it, sending several buttons flying across the room.
Frodo could not hold back an inarticulate cry of rage, frustration and loathing. He twisted futilely against the bonds that restrained him, trying to break away from the hand that was now tracing small circles upon his exposed chest.
"I haven't forgotten you yet, Frodo. I still want you. I haven't changed my mind about that."
Bramblethorn stuffed the gag back in Frodo's mouth and left him trembling in the corner of the room.
~*~
Bramblethorn gazed down at Frodo pensively. The morning had worn away into afternoon, and his prisoner had passed the time mostly in slumber. Not much else for him to do, really, Bramblethorn reflected.
As if feeling his captor's stare as a physical force, Frodo suddenly woke. He looked up at Bramblethorn and frowned.
Such spirit! Bramblethorn chuckled as he knelt down, eye to eye with Frodo. "Dreaming again, love?" He pulled the gag off. "I have dreams too, Frodo dear. Sometimes you're in them, you know."
"Not by any choice of my own," Frodo answered him, the frown deepening. "What do you think you have to gain by all of this, Bramblethorn?" Frodo asked, meeting his enemy's gaze steadily. "What could possibly make you think that I will lend my signature to the bold - faced lie you've concocted?"
"Such a scornful tone, Frodo! Really, I don't know whether to be offended or merely amused," Bramblethorn said , standing upright again. Pulling his pipe from a pocket and lighting it casually, he continued, "I think I'll opt for amused, given your present dignified position."
Frodo's eyes remained fixed on Bramblethorn's despite the latter's taunting words. "Amused, offended, I care not," Frodo said in a biting tone. "And as to dignity - "
"I should have left that rag in your mouth," Bramblethorn cut him off. "To answer your question as to your eventual cooperation, let me just say this." He knelt down again. "Have you ever been hungry, Frodo? I mean really hungry, not just aware that you've missed luncheon?" He gestured with the pipe, pointing the stem in Frodo's direction as he spoke. "Have you been so thirsty as to make that musical voice of yours naught but a rasp in your throat?"
So that was his game, Frodo thought. Not very inventive, but predictably sadistic. He might have expected as much.
Bramblethorn stood and paced as he spoke. "In case you've failed to notice, Frodo, you have few options to speak of." He stopped pacing and pointed the pipe stem at Frodo again. "Besides which, I will not accept no for an answer."
"You never have, as I recall," Frodo said sharply. "Had you the decency to do so two years ago, you would not be in exile!"
"Such harsh words from your sweet lips, my love," Bramblethorn said sarcastically. "I can think of a variety of ways to silence those lips for a while," he continued, his gaze narrowing. "I can think of ways to achieve the opposite, too. Would you care to test those methods?"
Frodo shot a look of pure loathing at Bramblethorn. "You are a beast," he said flatly.
Bramblethorn knelt beside his prisoner again, and fixed him with an icy glare. "You have no idea," he said coldly, allowing a slow smile to spread across his face.
Frodo searched for some stinging reply, some sharp riposte to bring to bear against the creature leering at him, but found none. Instead he fell silent as Bramblethorn declared the conversation at an end by tying the gag back in place.
~*~
Night had fallen, dark and still. Bramblethorn had fallen asleep on the sofa across the room, and was snoring slightly. Frodo was awake, leaning back against the hearthstones and staring into the gloom. He sighed and shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, if any such thing existed. His hand scraped against one of the stones and he winced at the stinging sensation where the edge had cut him slightly.
He blinked. The edge of one of the stones had cut him! It was sharp, and within his reach! Cautiously he felt along the stones behind him, letting his fingers probe lightly over them. There! A slight edge where one of the stones had broken and the mortar had fallen away around it.
Frodo shifted again, trying to position himself so that he could rub the rope binding his hands against the broken stone. It might take a while to sever his bonds that way, but it seemed the best option he had. He was careful to make as little sound as possible as he worked.
Bramblethorn stopped snoring and shifted on the sofa. Frodo froze instantly, beads of sweat standing out on his brow. It seemed an eternity that he sat motionless, waiting for the worst, but Bramblethorn began to snore again after a few minutes. Frodo didn't realize he had been holding his breath until he felt himself exhale rather sharply.
He continued to rub the ropes around his hands against the edge of the hearthstone. Giving a slight tug against them, he was sure he felt them beginning to loosen. A few more minutes were all he would need.
Scrape, scrape, scrape. The sound was very soft, but it sounded like thunder to Frodo's heightened sense of hearing. He felt the rope slacken and give way all at once. He ripped the gag off and dropped it on the floor. Almost unable to believe his hands were finally free, he rubbed his palms together and flexed his fingers to restore circulation to them. Now he had to get to work on the rope at his ankles.
The knots were tight, but not unmanageable. Frodo's heart pounded as his nimble fingers worked away in silence. He frowned in consternation as he tried to loosen the knots. That was it, he thought to himself. The nail biting habit had to go. He kept working at it. A pull here, a tug there, and finally, success! He got to his feet slowly, grimacing at the needle- like prickling sensation coursing up his legs.
Slowly and silently, he took a few steps forward, working his way toward the door and freedom. He had not seen Bramblethorn lock it, and suspected the lock was broken anyway. His heart was in his throat as he stepped carefully past the sofa and his sleeping captor. Clearing that obstacle, he reached out and carefully pulled on the doorknob.
Rust and dirt had accumulated in the hinges. Frodo was horrified at the squeak the hinge produced, a cruel, strident squeal of betrayal. He turned and threw a panicky look at the sofa and Bramblethorn. To his horror, Bramblethorn's eyes were open, and a sneer was creeping across his face.
Wasting no more time, Frodo pulled the door open and bolted through it, running as fast as he could toward the road and the forest beyond. Better to risk getting lost in the woods at night than to remain in Bramblethorn's clutches, he decided.
"Blast you, Baggins!" Bramblethorn was on his feet, shouting threats and following at a rapid pace. "You will suffer for this, I assure you!"
Frodo risked a glance behind him. Bramblethorn was quicker on his feet than Frodo had thought by the look of him. He had a murderous gleam in his eye and was gaining on his escaped charge by the moment.
Crossing the road, Frodo scrambled for the dense trees and underbrush in the surrounding woods. This was unfamiliar territory to him, and he had no idea what to expect as he dove into the bushes. He wasn't even sure in which direction the town of Bywater lay, since he had been blindfolded upon his arrival.
He could still hear Bramblethorn's shouting behind him, and another quick glance backward revealed his angry captor racing across the road in his direction. ~No time!~ Frodo thought. ~If only that door hinge hadn't squeaked!~
Frodo turned his gaze back to the terrain before him, but saw the fallen tree limb in the same instant that his foot struck it - too late. A pained cry escaped him as he tumbled forward into the undergrowth, rolling down a slight incline. He tried to regain his feet, but a stab of pain in his left ankle prevented him from standing on it. He didn't think it was broken, but it seemed certain he had sprained it badly.
He heard the bushes rustling and looked around him in a panic. He had to hide immediately, but where? He began to crawl toward a clump of bushes nearby. If he could hide and remain quiet, there was a slight chance that Bramblethorn would overlook him in the darkness of the woods.
Frodo tucked himself into the clump of greenery as completely as he could, hardly daring to breathe, and watched the approach of his enemy. Bramblethorn had paused and was looking around him, trying to discern the direction Frodo had taken. He began to walk away from the bushes.
~Please, keep going!~ Frodo thought at him. ~Please don't turn around!~
Bramblethorn stopped. He was looking at the ground, thoughtfully. His eyes traveled the length of a mark in the dirt, a small furrow in the dust that led -
With a lunge not unlike that of a wild beast on the hunt, Bramblethorn plunged into the bushes up to his shoulders. His hand closed tightly around Frodo's injured ankle. Frodo's agonized scream reverberated through the otherwise silent woods as Bramblethorn dragged him from the sheltering bushes.
"NO!" Frodo shouted in desperation as Bramblethorn pinned him down on his back. The anger that had sustained him so far was overpowered by terror and pain. Bramblethorn in a calm, calculating frame of mind was bad enough, but the seething, clearly enraged enemy that bore down on him now was worse by far.
"That was foolish, Frodo," Bramblethorn growled "Foolish, and discourteous," His tone was dripping sarcasm. "Your rejection of my hospitality cuts me deeply. I'm rapidly losing patience with you!" Bramblethorn glowered down at the terrified hobbit.
Overtaken by the fear of what he saw in those eyes, Frodo struggled madly. Bramblethorn caught Frodo's wrists and held them pressed against the ground on either side of his head. "I'll take care of you and your defiance," He said, his tone no longer mockingly seductive, but merely vicious.
Bramblethorn struck his captive sharply across the face. "Run, will you?" he sneered at Frodo, striking him again. "If you thought me cruel before - " Another slap. - "You will learn the meaning of the word anew!"
Frodo brought the hand Bramblethorn had released up to ward off the blows, but only succeeded in fueling his attacker's frenzy.
"Tell me, Frodo," Bramblethorn said harshly, backhanding the injured hobbit again. "Tell me to stop!" Frodo gasped as another blow landed. "Plead with me!" Slap!
"P-please - " Frodo was just short of losing consciousness and the word came out in a tortured whisper.
"What was that, Frodo?" Bramblethorn asked. Frodo had never heard a voice so filled with menace before. "I can't hear you!" Bramblethorn pulled back to strike again.
"S-stop - " The word was barely audible, and if he heard it, Bramblethorn gave no sign. The last thing Frodo saw before darkness overwhelmed him was the horrifically satisfied look on Bramblethorn's face as he struck one last blow, leaving Frodo limp and unresponsive.
"Not so defiant now, are you?" Bramblethorn said, looking down at his unconscious prisoner. Climbing to his feet, Bramblethorn grabbed Frodo's arms and began dragging the unconscious hobbit back to captivity in the dark, musty old smial.
~*~
He awakened slowly, and with a terrible headache from the blows Bramblethorn had rained upon him. He was bound and gagged again, lying on the shabby sofa in the parlor. When he opened his eyes his captor was there, staring intently at him.
"Frodo," Bramblethorn sighed. "What am I going to do with you?" He spoke softly, stroking Frodo's hair back out of his eyes. "You mustn't leave me again, I couldn't bear it."
At the sound of that voice, Frodo flinched and turned away. He didn't want to see the look that went with that tone. He'd seen it too many times already. It would be a lustful, greedy look, devoid of compassion. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and Frodo closed his eyes and lay still.
"You must realize that your actions have consequences, my love." Bramblethorn lifted Frodo in his arms and began to carry him down the dark hallway to the rooms beyond the parlor.
Through Frodo's haze, dark thoughts assailed him. This was it, then. Here, in the dark, not in the woods in the moonlight. Would Bramblethorn remove the gag just to be able to listen to him scream? Would it hurt as much as he thought it would? Even the mercy of death would be denied him, he was certain. He would be allowed to survive the assault, and perhaps others to follow.
His eyes swam with tears as he was carried into a small, windowless room and placed on the floor again. Bramblethorn knelt beside him and brushed a tear away from Frodo's face with false tenderness.
"Your clever trick earlier has caused me to rethink your accommodations. I can't allow a repeat performance." With that, he kissed Frodo lightly on the forehead and stood. "You'll be quite secure here, I assure you, " he told Frodo. "I won't be far away, dear. I'll be watching you more closely now, which I'll admit will not be an unpleasant task in the least."
He left a single candle in the far corner of the room, stepped into the hallway and closed the door. Pulling a wooden chair from the kitchen, he propped it under the doorknob to secure the exit from outside. That would certainly prevent any further incidents during the remainder of the night.
Frodo didn't know whether to be relieved or not when the things he had expected failed to come to pass. If not now, it would all happen later. More time to imagine the horror, the pain, the humiliation. As his consciousness faded, Frodo prayed that tonight, at least, Eru would grant him sleep without dreams.
~*~To be continued~*~
FrodoBaggins1982 - Wow! Thanks for the compliments on my writing. Glad you enjoyed the different perspectives of the characters as they pondered Frodo's whereabouts. They may have gone home empty - handed for the moment, but they're not giving up.
Aelfgifu - Glad you enjoyed Merry's thoughts on Sam. I'd say Merry more than approves of Frodo's friendship with him. As for writing evil hobbit dialogue, yes. It's surprisingly fun. I'm beginning to think I need therapy after listening to the voice of Bramblethorn in my head!
Aratlithiel - How are Sam, Merry and Pippin going to find Frodo? Time will tell. Meanwhile, if Frodo - in - trouble fics are your thing, you're in the right place. He's definitely in some trouble, I'd say. Read on and see if you're in agreement!
Endymion - A good point about Sam not discovering Frodo's absence until late morning. I thought about that, but decided for this story to have the three of them make the discovery at the same time for effect. Merry and Pippin are aware of the events two years earlier, but aren't drawing the same possible conclusions as Sam since they had less involvement.
TTTurtle - If you've been wondering what was going on with Frodo while the others are trying to find him, here's the answer. Meanwhile the search for Frodo continues.
Misstook1420 - Yes, poor Frodo! He may never let me write about him again after this!
To all of you, a huge thanks for getting on board and making this story a success. Whether it's good or bad, it would be nothing without you guys taking the time to check it out.
The Way of Vengeance Chapter 6 - Meanwhile
"Wake up, Frodo, love. It's morning." That voice again. Frodo groaned and stirred slightly. Morning? How could one tell in this hole with the windows boarded up? He blinked several times as his vision cleared slightly. He could see small shafts of light pushing their way in through thin spaces between the boards over the windows, but no other indication that the sun had risen.
Bramblethorn reached behind Frodo's head and removed the gag from his mouth. "The dawn has come, Frodo. Tell me, did you sleep well?" He leaned over Frodo's bound form and continued, "Pleasant dreams I hope?"
Frodo remained silent. His dreams were none of Bramblethorn's business. He closed his eyes again.
Bramblethorn grabbed him and propped him up in a sitting position. "No more dreaming for now, my love. We must greet the day." He held a teacup to Frodo's lips. Frodo looked at it, but did not move to take a sip.
"Come now, Frodo. It's tea, nothing more. Do you think I'm trying to poison you?" Bramblethorn asked. "I'm hurt, my dearest. I thought we'd have tea together and chat." Bramblethorn raised the cup again, and Frodo reluctantly took a couple of swallows. It wouldn't be wise to add dehydration to his problems, and he decided it was safe enough. Bramblethorn would have nothing to gain by killing him now, with that document as yet unsigned.
"Have you considered my proposition, Frodo?" Bramblethorn asked, as if he had offered to sell Frodo a prized Shire pony and was merely waiting to close the deal.
"What you propose," Frodo said slowly but clearly, "is preposterous. To allow you back in the Shire would be no better than allowing wolves among the farmers' flocks!"
Bramblethorn laughed at the analogy. "In your opinion, at least," he said, "but really, Frodo. What crime have I committed, other than to fall victim to your charms?" He touched Frodo's face, lightly tracing over his cheekbone. Scratches remained there from when he had thrown Frodo against the tree on their trek from Hobbiton. Frodo pulled away sharply.
Trying to replace fear with resolve, Frodo looked at Bramblethorn as steadily as he could manage. "Please spare me your claims of innocence. I've heard the tales -" he began, but Bramblethorn cut him off.
"You have? I've heard many tales as well. You, as a Baggins, should be accustomed to tales. After all, a great many are told in Hobbiton regarding your, shall we say, 'interesting' family." Bramblethorn raised his own teacup and his eyebrows as he spoke.
Frodo had heard it all before. It was no news to him that the name of Baggins was thought to go hand in hand with rather odd behavior, or at least behavior that was deemed odd by his fellow hobbits. Keeping company with elves and dwarves was unusual, as was journeying far from the Shire for a long period of time. Bilbo had done all those things, and come back to the Shire again with stories of magnificent adventures. Others had called Bilbo mad or cracked, or a number of other descriptive terms. Frodo had never allowed it to bother him, since he admired Bilbo for standing out.
"Many things have been said, both flattering and otherwise," Frodo stated quietly. "In any case, the name of Baggins has been connected with merely odd behavior, not behavior of a cruel or depraved sort."
"Depraved? Cruel? You think these things of me." He considered. "And perhaps I have given you good reason. Perhaps I will continue to do so." He smiled and Frodo felt as though the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees. "That is really up to you, Frodo. We must reach an understanding of the situation."
"I understand the situation," Frodo answered, knowing he was on dangerous ground but wholly unwilling to tread the other path that was offered. "I understand that you do not feel there is anything wrong with harming someone else as long as it suits your need."
"Have I truly harmed you, Frodo?" Bramblethorn was looking at his prisoner searchingly. "No, Frodo Baggins, I have not harmed you." He leaned closer until he was staring directly into Frodo's deep blue eyes. "Not yet." Those words came out in a low hiss that set Frodo's nerves on end.
Bramblethorn rose and paced for a moment. "So I take it," he said slowly, "you have not changed your mind and decided to cooperate?"
Frodo steeled himself. "I have not changed my mind in the slightest."
Bramblethorn looked at him sharply and strode back across the room to kneel at Frodo's side. Frodo expected another stinging slap to the face for his insolence. He did not expect the almost gentle caress behind his ear, trailing down across his neck to the base of his throat. Bramblethorn gripped the front of Frodo's shirt and tore it, sending several buttons flying across the room.
Frodo could not hold back an inarticulate cry of rage, frustration and loathing. He twisted futilely against the bonds that restrained him, trying to break away from the hand that was now tracing small circles upon his exposed chest.
"I haven't forgotten you yet, Frodo. I still want you. I haven't changed my mind about that."
Bramblethorn stuffed the gag back in Frodo's mouth and left him trembling in the corner of the room.
~*~
Bramblethorn gazed down at Frodo pensively. The morning had worn away into afternoon, and his prisoner had passed the time mostly in slumber. Not much else for him to do, really, Bramblethorn reflected.
As if feeling his captor's stare as a physical force, Frodo suddenly woke. He looked up at Bramblethorn and frowned.
Such spirit! Bramblethorn chuckled as he knelt down, eye to eye with Frodo. "Dreaming again, love?" He pulled the gag off. "I have dreams too, Frodo dear. Sometimes you're in them, you know."
"Not by any choice of my own," Frodo answered him, the frown deepening. "What do you think you have to gain by all of this, Bramblethorn?" Frodo asked, meeting his enemy's gaze steadily. "What could possibly make you think that I will lend my signature to the bold - faced lie you've concocted?"
"Such a scornful tone, Frodo! Really, I don't know whether to be offended or merely amused," Bramblethorn said , standing upright again. Pulling his pipe from a pocket and lighting it casually, he continued, "I think I'll opt for amused, given your present dignified position."
Frodo's eyes remained fixed on Bramblethorn's despite the latter's taunting words. "Amused, offended, I care not," Frodo said in a biting tone. "And as to dignity - "
"I should have left that rag in your mouth," Bramblethorn cut him off. "To answer your question as to your eventual cooperation, let me just say this." He knelt down again. "Have you ever been hungry, Frodo? I mean really hungry, not just aware that you've missed luncheon?" He gestured with the pipe, pointing the stem in Frodo's direction as he spoke. "Have you been so thirsty as to make that musical voice of yours naught but a rasp in your throat?"
So that was his game, Frodo thought. Not very inventive, but predictably sadistic. He might have expected as much.
Bramblethorn stood and paced as he spoke. "In case you've failed to notice, Frodo, you have few options to speak of." He stopped pacing and pointed the pipe stem at Frodo again. "Besides which, I will not accept no for an answer."
"You never have, as I recall," Frodo said sharply. "Had you the decency to do so two years ago, you would not be in exile!"
"Such harsh words from your sweet lips, my love," Bramblethorn said sarcastically. "I can think of a variety of ways to silence those lips for a while," he continued, his gaze narrowing. "I can think of ways to achieve the opposite, too. Would you care to test those methods?"
Frodo shot a look of pure loathing at Bramblethorn. "You are a beast," he said flatly.
Bramblethorn knelt beside his prisoner again, and fixed him with an icy glare. "You have no idea," he said coldly, allowing a slow smile to spread across his face.
Frodo searched for some stinging reply, some sharp riposte to bring to bear against the creature leering at him, but found none. Instead he fell silent as Bramblethorn declared the conversation at an end by tying the gag back in place.
~*~
Night had fallen, dark and still. Bramblethorn had fallen asleep on the sofa across the room, and was snoring slightly. Frodo was awake, leaning back against the hearthstones and staring into the gloom. He sighed and shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, if any such thing existed. His hand scraped against one of the stones and he winced at the stinging sensation where the edge had cut him slightly.
He blinked. The edge of one of the stones had cut him! It was sharp, and within his reach! Cautiously he felt along the stones behind him, letting his fingers probe lightly over them. There! A slight edge where one of the stones had broken and the mortar had fallen away around it.
Frodo shifted again, trying to position himself so that he could rub the rope binding his hands against the broken stone. It might take a while to sever his bonds that way, but it seemed the best option he had. He was careful to make as little sound as possible as he worked.
Bramblethorn stopped snoring and shifted on the sofa. Frodo froze instantly, beads of sweat standing out on his brow. It seemed an eternity that he sat motionless, waiting for the worst, but Bramblethorn began to snore again after a few minutes. Frodo didn't realize he had been holding his breath until he felt himself exhale rather sharply.
He continued to rub the ropes around his hands against the edge of the hearthstone. Giving a slight tug against them, he was sure he felt them beginning to loosen. A few more minutes were all he would need.
Scrape, scrape, scrape. The sound was very soft, but it sounded like thunder to Frodo's heightened sense of hearing. He felt the rope slacken and give way all at once. He ripped the gag off and dropped it on the floor. Almost unable to believe his hands were finally free, he rubbed his palms together and flexed his fingers to restore circulation to them. Now he had to get to work on the rope at his ankles.
The knots were tight, but not unmanageable. Frodo's heart pounded as his nimble fingers worked away in silence. He frowned in consternation as he tried to loosen the knots. That was it, he thought to himself. The nail biting habit had to go. He kept working at it. A pull here, a tug there, and finally, success! He got to his feet slowly, grimacing at the needle- like prickling sensation coursing up his legs.
Slowly and silently, he took a few steps forward, working his way toward the door and freedom. He had not seen Bramblethorn lock it, and suspected the lock was broken anyway. His heart was in his throat as he stepped carefully past the sofa and his sleeping captor. Clearing that obstacle, he reached out and carefully pulled on the doorknob.
Rust and dirt had accumulated in the hinges. Frodo was horrified at the squeak the hinge produced, a cruel, strident squeal of betrayal. He turned and threw a panicky look at the sofa and Bramblethorn. To his horror, Bramblethorn's eyes were open, and a sneer was creeping across his face.
Wasting no more time, Frodo pulled the door open and bolted through it, running as fast as he could toward the road and the forest beyond. Better to risk getting lost in the woods at night than to remain in Bramblethorn's clutches, he decided.
"Blast you, Baggins!" Bramblethorn was on his feet, shouting threats and following at a rapid pace. "You will suffer for this, I assure you!"
Frodo risked a glance behind him. Bramblethorn was quicker on his feet than Frodo had thought by the look of him. He had a murderous gleam in his eye and was gaining on his escaped charge by the moment.
Crossing the road, Frodo scrambled for the dense trees and underbrush in the surrounding woods. This was unfamiliar territory to him, and he had no idea what to expect as he dove into the bushes. He wasn't even sure in which direction the town of Bywater lay, since he had been blindfolded upon his arrival.
He could still hear Bramblethorn's shouting behind him, and another quick glance backward revealed his angry captor racing across the road in his direction. ~No time!~ Frodo thought. ~If only that door hinge hadn't squeaked!~
Frodo turned his gaze back to the terrain before him, but saw the fallen tree limb in the same instant that his foot struck it - too late. A pained cry escaped him as he tumbled forward into the undergrowth, rolling down a slight incline. He tried to regain his feet, but a stab of pain in his left ankle prevented him from standing on it. He didn't think it was broken, but it seemed certain he had sprained it badly.
He heard the bushes rustling and looked around him in a panic. He had to hide immediately, but where? He began to crawl toward a clump of bushes nearby. If he could hide and remain quiet, there was a slight chance that Bramblethorn would overlook him in the darkness of the woods.
Frodo tucked himself into the clump of greenery as completely as he could, hardly daring to breathe, and watched the approach of his enemy. Bramblethorn had paused and was looking around him, trying to discern the direction Frodo had taken. He began to walk away from the bushes.
~Please, keep going!~ Frodo thought at him. ~Please don't turn around!~
Bramblethorn stopped. He was looking at the ground, thoughtfully. His eyes traveled the length of a mark in the dirt, a small furrow in the dust that led -
With a lunge not unlike that of a wild beast on the hunt, Bramblethorn plunged into the bushes up to his shoulders. His hand closed tightly around Frodo's injured ankle. Frodo's agonized scream reverberated through the otherwise silent woods as Bramblethorn dragged him from the sheltering bushes.
"NO!" Frodo shouted in desperation as Bramblethorn pinned him down on his back. The anger that had sustained him so far was overpowered by terror and pain. Bramblethorn in a calm, calculating frame of mind was bad enough, but the seething, clearly enraged enemy that bore down on him now was worse by far.
"That was foolish, Frodo," Bramblethorn growled "Foolish, and discourteous," His tone was dripping sarcasm. "Your rejection of my hospitality cuts me deeply. I'm rapidly losing patience with you!" Bramblethorn glowered down at the terrified hobbit.
Overtaken by the fear of what he saw in those eyes, Frodo struggled madly. Bramblethorn caught Frodo's wrists and held them pressed against the ground on either side of his head. "I'll take care of you and your defiance," He said, his tone no longer mockingly seductive, but merely vicious.
Bramblethorn struck his captive sharply across the face. "Run, will you?" he sneered at Frodo, striking him again. "If you thought me cruel before - " Another slap. - "You will learn the meaning of the word anew!"
Frodo brought the hand Bramblethorn had released up to ward off the blows, but only succeeded in fueling his attacker's frenzy.
"Tell me, Frodo," Bramblethorn said harshly, backhanding the injured hobbit again. "Tell me to stop!" Frodo gasped as another blow landed. "Plead with me!" Slap!
"P-please - " Frodo was just short of losing consciousness and the word came out in a tortured whisper.
"What was that, Frodo?" Bramblethorn asked. Frodo had never heard a voice so filled with menace before. "I can't hear you!" Bramblethorn pulled back to strike again.
"S-stop - " The word was barely audible, and if he heard it, Bramblethorn gave no sign. The last thing Frodo saw before darkness overwhelmed him was the horrifically satisfied look on Bramblethorn's face as he struck one last blow, leaving Frodo limp and unresponsive.
"Not so defiant now, are you?" Bramblethorn said, looking down at his unconscious prisoner. Climbing to his feet, Bramblethorn grabbed Frodo's arms and began dragging the unconscious hobbit back to captivity in the dark, musty old smial.
~*~
He awakened slowly, and with a terrible headache from the blows Bramblethorn had rained upon him. He was bound and gagged again, lying on the shabby sofa in the parlor. When he opened his eyes his captor was there, staring intently at him.
"Frodo," Bramblethorn sighed. "What am I going to do with you?" He spoke softly, stroking Frodo's hair back out of his eyes. "You mustn't leave me again, I couldn't bear it."
At the sound of that voice, Frodo flinched and turned away. He didn't want to see the look that went with that tone. He'd seen it too many times already. It would be a lustful, greedy look, devoid of compassion. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and Frodo closed his eyes and lay still.
"You must realize that your actions have consequences, my love." Bramblethorn lifted Frodo in his arms and began to carry him down the dark hallway to the rooms beyond the parlor.
Through Frodo's haze, dark thoughts assailed him. This was it, then. Here, in the dark, not in the woods in the moonlight. Would Bramblethorn remove the gag just to be able to listen to him scream? Would it hurt as much as he thought it would? Even the mercy of death would be denied him, he was certain. He would be allowed to survive the assault, and perhaps others to follow.
His eyes swam with tears as he was carried into a small, windowless room and placed on the floor again. Bramblethorn knelt beside him and brushed a tear away from Frodo's face with false tenderness.
"Your clever trick earlier has caused me to rethink your accommodations. I can't allow a repeat performance." With that, he kissed Frodo lightly on the forehead and stood. "You'll be quite secure here, I assure you, " he told Frodo. "I won't be far away, dear. I'll be watching you more closely now, which I'll admit will not be an unpleasant task in the least."
He left a single candle in the far corner of the room, stepped into the hallway and closed the door. Pulling a wooden chair from the kitchen, he propped it under the doorknob to secure the exit from outside. That would certainly prevent any further incidents during the remainder of the night.
Frodo didn't know whether to be relieved or not when the things he had expected failed to come to pass. If not now, it would all happen later. More time to imagine the horror, the pain, the humiliation. As his consciousness faded, Frodo prayed that tonight, at least, Eru would grant him sleep without dreams.
~*~To be continued~*~