FrodoBaggins1982 - Sam accepts your offer of a metal pipe. "Thank 'ee, Sir.
That will do just fine. Now where is that filthy stinker?" Sam, Merry and
Pippin have their first clue and are soon to follow it wherever it leads
them.
Endymion - Help must come, you're correct. Sam, Merry and Pippin are following clues and doing their best. How soon? Time will tell! Bramblethorn did sneak back into the Shire undetected. Those bounders were nowhere to be seen, and for the purpose of the plot I'm figuring the Rangers haven't begun their close watch on the Shire at this point. Perhaps they will after this!
TTTurtle - The mind of Rushford Bramblethorn is a complicated thing. He is waiting largely because getting restored to the Shire is his main objective now. He's willing to torture Frodo for reasons of revenge, and because he's a sadistic freak who likes the feeling of power it gives him. You've got him right when you say that maybe he has such an ego he thinks he can just frighten Frodo into signing. As to getting to Frodo by possibly abducting Sam, Bramblethorn hasn't figured out how important Sam is to Frodo. Can't divulge any more here, as this chapter deals with just that point. Race against time? Yes. Definitely.
Aratlithiel - Getting into Bramblethorn's head is a little scary. Bingo. You nailed it. It's definitely all part of his evil plan as far as waiting to have Frodo. The more he toys with Frodo, the more off-balance he can keep him. He's using that threat to increase Frodo's feelings of helplessness, all the better to break him down. And Merry is pretty observant, isn't he? When he's not getting into mischief, he's busy absorbing what's going on around him.
Misstook1420 - Addicted, you say? Is there a support group for LOTR fanfic? I, for one, hope there isn't!
********************************************************************
Chapter 8 - Persuasion
Frodo shifted his position slightly. He had long since given up trying to get comfortable. It was more a matter of deciding which part of his body was the numbest and shifting his weight elsewhere. Bramblethorn had visited him at intervals during the day. Following their last, brief conversation, he had left Frodo shuddering alone in the dark little room, and had gone about some other business. He had looked into the room once or twice since then, not to see if Frodo was in need of anything, but just to satisfy himself that his prize was still there, still awake, still frightened.
The pattern was always the same. Frodo would doze off and be awakened by a kick, followed by some threat or undesired advance he had no defense against. If he struggled he met only with further abuse. As promised, there had been no food, no water. When was the last time he had eaten, Frodo wondered? Was Bramblethorn planning to starve him into submission? He pushed the thought from his mind. At least the gag had been dispensed with for the time being. Maybe Bramblethorn was tired of untying and replacing it every few hours.
There was still the matter of the signature Bramblethorn wanted from him. The one thing he could do to hopefully end this waking nightmare was also the one thing he must not do, for the safety of the Shire. If he signed a retraction of his statement against Bramblethorn, the villain would most likely be allowed to return to the Shire and go back to his old ways. For that matter, what was to stop him from assaulting Frodo again? If Frodo recanted his testimony, nobody would believe any further complaints he might make.
Frodo's musings were cut short as the door creaked open and Bramblethorn entered the room. As the other hobbit approached him, Frodo did his best to withdraw into himself. It was impossible to guess what was coming. More conversation? More physical abuse? He wasn't looking forward to either.
"Poor dear. You must be very uncomfortable, Frodo," Bramblethorn said in a calm voice. "I could help you with that if only you would do the one thing I ask." Frodo had endured about as much of the false compassion as he was willing or able.
"I will not! I cannot!" Frodo cried with what strength he could find. "You know as well as I that my statement was the truth," Frodo breathed. "If I do as you ask, you would commit the same act again, against me or someone else." The weight of that responsibility would be too great to bear. That he, Frodo Baggins should be the one to release this monster back into the Shire to torment the good people there - no! He reminded himself again that it was better that he suffer than the whole of the Shire.
"You are as stubborn as you are beautiful, Frodo," Bramblethorn replied, and gave Frodo his most wolfish grin. "I've asked you politely, more than once, and yet you still refuse." His tone became icy and his gaze poisonous. "I am sorely tempted to abandon politeness altogether."
Bramblethorn seized Frodo by his shirt again, managing to rip it further in the process. Hauling him up to a sitting position, he pushed his captive back against the wall, placing a hand on each of Frodo's shoulders. Bramblethorn leaned forward and leered into Frodo's frightened face.
"You cannot refuse me forever, Frodo," he growled. Frodo had turned his face away from his tormentor, trying to block out the vision the only way he could. Bramblethorn forced Frodo's gaze back to his own. "Politeness has not persuaded you, but there are other ways."
He gave Frodo his cruelest stare while pinning him against the wall. "You WILL sign that document, Frodo," Bramblethorn said coldly.
"NO!" Frodo cried, refusing almost by habit alone.
"Wretch!" Bramblethorn spat, and struck him. Frodo gritted his teeth and locked his gaze with Bramblethorn's. "You will do as I say, if not now, eventually," Bramblethorn snarled. "I am not giving you a choice, Frodo."
"I am not asking you to give me a choice," Frodo said, summoning his remaining courage. "I am making one nonetheless." He took a deep breath and continued. "I choose to deny you victory." With each word he spoke, Frodo's voice strengthened. He felt time suspended as his words broke the stillness of the room. "You may take what you will from me, but I will give you nothing."
For the first time during his captivity, Frodo thought he could see Bramblethorn's façade beginning to crack. The swaggering self - assurance seemed to fade slightly for an instant as impotent rage swelled to the surface.
"Insolent fool!" Bramblethorn shook Frodo hard. "You are at my mercy, and I will show you none!" He punctuated the statement with another brutal slam against the wall. "I could take you now, as I would have that day in the woods, if your servant had not come to your aid!" He cupped Frodo's bruised face in his hands and sneered, "But I'm not in the mood!" He stood and walked out in a rage.
~*~
Frodo slumped over as Bramblethorn left the room. He was so tired! He had put every ounce of his spirit into his defiant statement to his captor, risking grim retribution in response. He had nothing to lose or to gain by it, he decided. It seemed certain that Brambethorn would come for him sooner or later, to claim his body and shatter his soul. Frodo's vicious enemy was merely biding his time, choosing his moment.
When would Bramblethorn tire of merely threatening him? When would one of the intimidating sessions of taunting and touching fail to end there? The thought was too abhorrent to entertain, but rose unbidden to Frodo's mind nonetheless.
It was impossible to tell whether it was night or day in the little room, and Frodo had lost all track of time. He decided to try to sleep again. If he was fortunate, it would be nighttime and no one would be hovering nearby to kick him back to consciousness.
After a while, sleep finally overtook him. Exhaustion triumphed over fear and pain, and for a while at least, Frodo was lost to all but dreams.
~*~
Bramblethorn's hands were shaking with rage as he lit his pipe. Frodo had looked him in the face and defied him more openly than ever before! Whence came such courage? It was absurd that a bound prisoner, aching with hunger and burning with thirst, brutalized and without rest, should be able to invoke such a spirit of willfulness.
"Impossible creature!" Bramblethorn found himself saying aloud to no one but himself. "I shall strip you of your spirit," he growled. "I shall shatter you from within even as I do so from without!"
As soon as the matter of his return to the Shire was resolved to his satisfaction, Bramblethorn vowed, he would show Frodo the true meaning of pain and suffering. He would rend that lovely creature's flesh and soul, savoring each moment, each desperate cry for non - existent mercy.
~*~
Frodo slept fitfully, his head tossing from side to side and inarticulate sounds escaped him as he dreamed. He saw trees and sunlight, and heard the sound of a small stream flowing nearby. He could almost feel the late afternoon sun on his face as it slanted through the trees.
Somehow, something just wasn't right about the scene. It should have a peaceful feeling about it, not this gnawing dread and fear that he felt. A shadow blocked the rays of the sun. Someone was standing over him, but the face of the person was indistinct and hazy.
Suddenly, he could see another figure bursting thorough the undergrowth, rage evident in his features. It was Sam! His eyes were filled with anger, indignation and fear, though not for his own safety. He seemed to be shining from within somehow, as if the light of the sun that had tanned his skin had been absorbed even deeper still, to become a part of him. Glowing.
Frodo saw Sam attack his tormentor, driving the evil presence away from his fallen form. He felt a surge of hope, filling him with brightness and warmth. And then it happened. As Sam engaged the evil shadow in furious combat, the evil presence overwhelmed the golden light, slowly snuffing it out to a flicker, then nothing.
He heard himself screaming, a scream of agony, shame and complete bereavement. "SAAAAMMMMMM!"
Awake. He was awake and breathing hard, his throat burning from the force of the desperate shriek. His face was wet with tears, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, as if to block out the image that had been so real a moment before.
Could darkness truly overwhelm light and snuff it out as in his dream? It mustn't be so! For if that were true, what good was defying the darkness?
But he could see light even now, through the distortion of his tears. There, coming closer. A single, bright flame - a candle? A dark form stood over him with a candle in its grasp. The darkness, controlling the light, holding it.
~No! Please, no!~
Bramblethorn set the candle down on the floor and again was kneeling by Frodo's side. "You called out a name just now, Frodo," he said. "Your gardener, your brave servant who saved you. You called for him." It was not a question, but a statement of fact.
Frodo's captor held something in his hand. A scroll and a quill pen. He bent over Frodo and looked into the tormented face before him. "You will not do this to save yourself, will you, Frodo? You would suffer terribly rather than submit for your own sake." His voice sounded oddly triumphant as he spoke again. "But for the sake of another, my love? What then?"
He reached out and stroked a wayward curl away from Frodo's forehead. "For the sake of another, would you do as I ask?" He whispered directly into Frodo's ear, and his voice hardened. "You called his name, Frodo. I know where to find him. He is dear to you, is he not? If you will not submit for your own sake, what about his?"
No! It couldn't be. Frodo's resolve fled from him in a rush as the malignant words lingered in his ears. ~Elbereth! What have I done?~ he thought in horror.
~Sam! I will not lose you! I will not allow him to harm you!~
"I will seek him out, Frodo."
~I will not be the cause of your sorrow and pain!~
"I will visit upon him every torment I have given you and more."
~Sam! Forgive me! He has found my heart and holds the blade that will pierce it. You are too dear to me. You are my only light in this darkness. I will sacrifice all else, but not you, Sam. Not you.~
"For the last time, Frodo. Will you give me what I ask?" Bramblethorn held the scroll out before Frodo's face.
Heartbroken, Frodo raised his eyes slowly to look at the evil face above him. "Yes. I will do as you wish," he said simply, his voice a mere whisper.
Bramblethorn propped him up in the corner and untied the bonds around his hands. Frodo's fingers tingled painfully as circulation was restored to them at last. When he was able to coax life back into his hands, he took the pen and the document from Bramblethorn's hand.
Slowly, haltingly, he signed his name at the bottom. And in the midst of his shame and dread, there came an inspiration. One last thing he could attempt in order to salvage the situation. Beneath his name in his graceful hand, he inscribed a very short phrase in Quenya.
"What is that?" Bramblethorn asked, scorn dripping from his voice as he eyed Frodo suspiciously. "What are you up to?" Snarling, he grasped Frodo's shoulders and gave him a rough shake.
"It's Elvish. Another Baggins oddity," Frodo said quietly, not looking at Bramblethorn. "I sign my name in both Common and Elvish on any document of importance."
Bramblethorn grinned. At last, he had discovered the one weakness he could exploit in order to break his prisoner. Why hadn't he seen it before? That gardener must be quite dear to Frodo, perhaps more so than was proper, he thought with amusement. He rolled the scroll up tightly and placed it and the pen on the floor beside him.
"Thank you, Frodo," Bramblethorn said and enfolded him in a mockery of a tender embrace. Frodo shoved him away and turned from him, burying his face in his hands. Not even willing to give Frodo this moment of pure grief, Bramblethorn grabbed Frodo's wrists and turned the smaller hobbit to face him. He again bound Frodo's hands, but in front this time.
"Leave me be!" Frodo sobbed. "You have what you wanted. What further use is it to you to torment me?"
"My sincerest apologies, beloved," Bramblethorn replied in a tone that implied that he was anything but apologetic, "but I must keep you with me a while yet. This document must reach the Mayor, if I am to be granted re- entry to the Shire. Only then will this matter be resolved."
"And what then? Will you let me go?" Frodo asked, fearing the response.
"Hmmm. Now there's a good question, Frodo." Bramblethorn made a show of pondering his position on the matter. "To be bereft of your company would be very difficult for me. You see, I've grown quite attached to you."
Ahh, yes. Blue eyes, wide with fear. "And I've been too busy with other matters to pay you the attention you truly deserve." He brushed his fingers lightly over Frodo's cheek again, looking into his eyes. Lovely. "But do not fear, dear one. I shall make up for lost time, I promise you."
"I loathe you," Frodo answered him softly, eyes downcast.
Bramblethorn laughed. It was not a light - hearted, contented sound, but something cruel and ugly.
"Do you, dear Frodo? I must speak with the Mayor first, and then we shall celebrate." Bramblethorn toyed with a lock of hair behind Frodo's ear. "Together," he whispered.
~*~ To be continued ~*~
Endymion - Help must come, you're correct. Sam, Merry and Pippin are following clues and doing their best. How soon? Time will tell! Bramblethorn did sneak back into the Shire undetected. Those bounders were nowhere to be seen, and for the purpose of the plot I'm figuring the Rangers haven't begun their close watch on the Shire at this point. Perhaps they will after this!
TTTurtle - The mind of Rushford Bramblethorn is a complicated thing. He is waiting largely because getting restored to the Shire is his main objective now. He's willing to torture Frodo for reasons of revenge, and because he's a sadistic freak who likes the feeling of power it gives him. You've got him right when you say that maybe he has such an ego he thinks he can just frighten Frodo into signing. As to getting to Frodo by possibly abducting Sam, Bramblethorn hasn't figured out how important Sam is to Frodo. Can't divulge any more here, as this chapter deals with just that point. Race against time? Yes. Definitely.
Aratlithiel - Getting into Bramblethorn's head is a little scary. Bingo. You nailed it. It's definitely all part of his evil plan as far as waiting to have Frodo. The more he toys with Frodo, the more off-balance he can keep him. He's using that threat to increase Frodo's feelings of helplessness, all the better to break him down. And Merry is pretty observant, isn't he? When he's not getting into mischief, he's busy absorbing what's going on around him.
Misstook1420 - Addicted, you say? Is there a support group for LOTR fanfic? I, for one, hope there isn't!
********************************************************************
Chapter 8 - Persuasion
Frodo shifted his position slightly. He had long since given up trying to get comfortable. It was more a matter of deciding which part of his body was the numbest and shifting his weight elsewhere. Bramblethorn had visited him at intervals during the day. Following their last, brief conversation, he had left Frodo shuddering alone in the dark little room, and had gone about some other business. He had looked into the room once or twice since then, not to see if Frodo was in need of anything, but just to satisfy himself that his prize was still there, still awake, still frightened.
The pattern was always the same. Frodo would doze off and be awakened by a kick, followed by some threat or undesired advance he had no defense against. If he struggled he met only with further abuse. As promised, there had been no food, no water. When was the last time he had eaten, Frodo wondered? Was Bramblethorn planning to starve him into submission? He pushed the thought from his mind. At least the gag had been dispensed with for the time being. Maybe Bramblethorn was tired of untying and replacing it every few hours.
There was still the matter of the signature Bramblethorn wanted from him. The one thing he could do to hopefully end this waking nightmare was also the one thing he must not do, for the safety of the Shire. If he signed a retraction of his statement against Bramblethorn, the villain would most likely be allowed to return to the Shire and go back to his old ways. For that matter, what was to stop him from assaulting Frodo again? If Frodo recanted his testimony, nobody would believe any further complaints he might make.
Frodo's musings were cut short as the door creaked open and Bramblethorn entered the room. As the other hobbit approached him, Frodo did his best to withdraw into himself. It was impossible to guess what was coming. More conversation? More physical abuse? He wasn't looking forward to either.
"Poor dear. You must be very uncomfortable, Frodo," Bramblethorn said in a calm voice. "I could help you with that if only you would do the one thing I ask." Frodo had endured about as much of the false compassion as he was willing or able.
"I will not! I cannot!" Frodo cried with what strength he could find. "You know as well as I that my statement was the truth," Frodo breathed. "If I do as you ask, you would commit the same act again, against me or someone else." The weight of that responsibility would be too great to bear. That he, Frodo Baggins should be the one to release this monster back into the Shire to torment the good people there - no! He reminded himself again that it was better that he suffer than the whole of the Shire.
"You are as stubborn as you are beautiful, Frodo," Bramblethorn replied, and gave Frodo his most wolfish grin. "I've asked you politely, more than once, and yet you still refuse." His tone became icy and his gaze poisonous. "I am sorely tempted to abandon politeness altogether."
Bramblethorn seized Frodo by his shirt again, managing to rip it further in the process. Hauling him up to a sitting position, he pushed his captive back against the wall, placing a hand on each of Frodo's shoulders. Bramblethorn leaned forward and leered into Frodo's frightened face.
"You cannot refuse me forever, Frodo," he growled. Frodo had turned his face away from his tormentor, trying to block out the vision the only way he could. Bramblethorn forced Frodo's gaze back to his own. "Politeness has not persuaded you, but there are other ways."
He gave Frodo his cruelest stare while pinning him against the wall. "You WILL sign that document, Frodo," Bramblethorn said coldly.
"NO!" Frodo cried, refusing almost by habit alone.
"Wretch!" Bramblethorn spat, and struck him. Frodo gritted his teeth and locked his gaze with Bramblethorn's. "You will do as I say, if not now, eventually," Bramblethorn snarled. "I am not giving you a choice, Frodo."
"I am not asking you to give me a choice," Frodo said, summoning his remaining courage. "I am making one nonetheless." He took a deep breath and continued. "I choose to deny you victory." With each word he spoke, Frodo's voice strengthened. He felt time suspended as his words broke the stillness of the room. "You may take what you will from me, but I will give you nothing."
For the first time during his captivity, Frodo thought he could see Bramblethorn's façade beginning to crack. The swaggering self - assurance seemed to fade slightly for an instant as impotent rage swelled to the surface.
"Insolent fool!" Bramblethorn shook Frodo hard. "You are at my mercy, and I will show you none!" He punctuated the statement with another brutal slam against the wall. "I could take you now, as I would have that day in the woods, if your servant had not come to your aid!" He cupped Frodo's bruised face in his hands and sneered, "But I'm not in the mood!" He stood and walked out in a rage.
~*~
Frodo slumped over as Bramblethorn left the room. He was so tired! He had put every ounce of his spirit into his defiant statement to his captor, risking grim retribution in response. He had nothing to lose or to gain by it, he decided. It seemed certain that Brambethorn would come for him sooner or later, to claim his body and shatter his soul. Frodo's vicious enemy was merely biding his time, choosing his moment.
When would Bramblethorn tire of merely threatening him? When would one of the intimidating sessions of taunting and touching fail to end there? The thought was too abhorrent to entertain, but rose unbidden to Frodo's mind nonetheless.
It was impossible to tell whether it was night or day in the little room, and Frodo had lost all track of time. He decided to try to sleep again. If he was fortunate, it would be nighttime and no one would be hovering nearby to kick him back to consciousness.
After a while, sleep finally overtook him. Exhaustion triumphed over fear and pain, and for a while at least, Frodo was lost to all but dreams.
~*~
Bramblethorn's hands were shaking with rage as he lit his pipe. Frodo had looked him in the face and defied him more openly than ever before! Whence came such courage? It was absurd that a bound prisoner, aching with hunger and burning with thirst, brutalized and without rest, should be able to invoke such a spirit of willfulness.
"Impossible creature!" Bramblethorn found himself saying aloud to no one but himself. "I shall strip you of your spirit," he growled. "I shall shatter you from within even as I do so from without!"
As soon as the matter of his return to the Shire was resolved to his satisfaction, Bramblethorn vowed, he would show Frodo the true meaning of pain and suffering. He would rend that lovely creature's flesh and soul, savoring each moment, each desperate cry for non - existent mercy.
~*~
Frodo slept fitfully, his head tossing from side to side and inarticulate sounds escaped him as he dreamed. He saw trees and sunlight, and heard the sound of a small stream flowing nearby. He could almost feel the late afternoon sun on his face as it slanted through the trees.
Somehow, something just wasn't right about the scene. It should have a peaceful feeling about it, not this gnawing dread and fear that he felt. A shadow blocked the rays of the sun. Someone was standing over him, but the face of the person was indistinct and hazy.
Suddenly, he could see another figure bursting thorough the undergrowth, rage evident in his features. It was Sam! His eyes were filled with anger, indignation and fear, though not for his own safety. He seemed to be shining from within somehow, as if the light of the sun that had tanned his skin had been absorbed even deeper still, to become a part of him. Glowing.
Frodo saw Sam attack his tormentor, driving the evil presence away from his fallen form. He felt a surge of hope, filling him with brightness and warmth. And then it happened. As Sam engaged the evil shadow in furious combat, the evil presence overwhelmed the golden light, slowly snuffing it out to a flicker, then nothing.
He heard himself screaming, a scream of agony, shame and complete bereavement. "SAAAAMMMMMM!"
Awake. He was awake and breathing hard, his throat burning from the force of the desperate shriek. His face was wet with tears, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, as if to block out the image that had been so real a moment before.
Could darkness truly overwhelm light and snuff it out as in his dream? It mustn't be so! For if that were true, what good was defying the darkness?
But he could see light even now, through the distortion of his tears. There, coming closer. A single, bright flame - a candle? A dark form stood over him with a candle in its grasp. The darkness, controlling the light, holding it.
~No! Please, no!~
Bramblethorn set the candle down on the floor and again was kneeling by Frodo's side. "You called out a name just now, Frodo," he said. "Your gardener, your brave servant who saved you. You called for him." It was not a question, but a statement of fact.
Frodo's captor held something in his hand. A scroll and a quill pen. He bent over Frodo and looked into the tormented face before him. "You will not do this to save yourself, will you, Frodo? You would suffer terribly rather than submit for your own sake." His voice sounded oddly triumphant as he spoke again. "But for the sake of another, my love? What then?"
He reached out and stroked a wayward curl away from Frodo's forehead. "For the sake of another, would you do as I ask?" He whispered directly into Frodo's ear, and his voice hardened. "You called his name, Frodo. I know where to find him. He is dear to you, is he not? If you will not submit for your own sake, what about his?"
No! It couldn't be. Frodo's resolve fled from him in a rush as the malignant words lingered in his ears. ~Elbereth! What have I done?~ he thought in horror.
~Sam! I will not lose you! I will not allow him to harm you!~
"I will seek him out, Frodo."
~I will not be the cause of your sorrow and pain!~
"I will visit upon him every torment I have given you and more."
~Sam! Forgive me! He has found my heart and holds the blade that will pierce it. You are too dear to me. You are my only light in this darkness. I will sacrifice all else, but not you, Sam. Not you.~
"For the last time, Frodo. Will you give me what I ask?" Bramblethorn held the scroll out before Frodo's face.
Heartbroken, Frodo raised his eyes slowly to look at the evil face above him. "Yes. I will do as you wish," he said simply, his voice a mere whisper.
Bramblethorn propped him up in the corner and untied the bonds around his hands. Frodo's fingers tingled painfully as circulation was restored to them at last. When he was able to coax life back into his hands, he took the pen and the document from Bramblethorn's hand.
Slowly, haltingly, he signed his name at the bottom. And in the midst of his shame and dread, there came an inspiration. One last thing he could attempt in order to salvage the situation. Beneath his name in his graceful hand, he inscribed a very short phrase in Quenya.
"What is that?" Bramblethorn asked, scorn dripping from his voice as he eyed Frodo suspiciously. "What are you up to?" Snarling, he grasped Frodo's shoulders and gave him a rough shake.
"It's Elvish. Another Baggins oddity," Frodo said quietly, not looking at Bramblethorn. "I sign my name in both Common and Elvish on any document of importance."
Bramblethorn grinned. At last, he had discovered the one weakness he could exploit in order to break his prisoner. Why hadn't he seen it before? That gardener must be quite dear to Frodo, perhaps more so than was proper, he thought with amusement. He rolled the scroll up tightly and placed it and the pen on the floor beside him.
"Thank you, Frodo," Bramblethorn said and enfolded him in a mockery of a tender embrace. Frodo shoved him away and turned from him, burying his face in his hands. Not even willing to give Frodo this moment of pure grief, Bramblethorn grabbed Frodo's wrists and turned the smaller hobbit to face him. He again bound Frodo's hands, but in front this time.
"Leave me be!" Frodo sobbed. "You have what you wanted. What further use is it to you to torment me?"
"My sincerest apologies, beloved," Bramblethorn replied in a tone that implied that he was anything but apologetic, "but I must keep you with me a while yet. This document must reach the Mayor, if I am to be granted re- entry to the Shire. Only then will this matter be resolved."
"And what then? Will you let me go?" Frodo asked, fearing the response.
"Hmmm. Now there's a good question, Frodo." Bramblethorn made a show of pondering his position on the matter. "To be bereft of your company would be very difficult for me. You see, I've grown quite attached to you."
Ahh, yes. Blue eyes, wide with fear. "And I've been too busy with other matters to pay you the attention you truly deserve." He brushed his fingers lightly over Frodo's cheek again, looking into his eyes. Lovely. "But do not fear, dear one. I shall make up for lost time, I promise you."
"I loathe you," Frodo answered him softly, eyes downcast.
Bramblethorn laughed. It was not a light - hearted, contented sound, but something cruel and ugly.
"Do you, dear Frodo? I must speak with the Mayor first, and then we shall celebrate." Bramblethorn toyed with a lock of hair behind Frodo's ear. "Together," he whispered.
~*~ To be continued ~*~