TTTurtle - A story can go through some strange evolutions. I was planning
13 chapters, but I now find that there is more here to deal with. Right
now, it's looking like 14 because I have to deal with Bramblethorn's
punishment, and that will likely be a chapter in itself. Will the rescue be
straight - forward or will we see something unexpected? Here's where we
answer that question.
Endymion - Sam is showing remarkable self-control, isn't he? The risks to himself and to Frodo are just too great if he doesn't follow the plan. You'd like a crack at Bramblethorn? You're not alone there, I'm sure. That was pretty mean of him to continue threatening Sam even after Frodo cooperated! Unforeseen complications? Maybe.
Aratlithiel - Yes, Sam is going into the rescue hale and hearty and unhurt. Frodo has had a rough time, hasn't he? You're right, though. There will be plenty of TLC coming his way later on.
ZoSo Gamgee - Baggins - No one messes with Gamgee rage! Yeah, remind me not to tick Sam off. Ever! Just a little bit slashy with Frodo and Sam, but not over the top, agreed. I like to leave a little to the imagination, so to speak. Glad you're finding it enjoyable!
Camellia Gamgee-Took - Yes, Frodo is at the point where his hope is running a little low. Just one of those moments, though. He'll bounce back. There will be happy hobbit hugging in the future, I promise!
FrodoBaggins1982 - Chapter 11 was a bit tough for Frodo, but you're right. It could have been worse. Challenge - describe Bramblethorn in 10 words or less - "Pompous, orc - sucking, horse - faced, balrog!" Awesome.
QTPie - 2488 - Welcome back! Now that you've had time to get up to date, here's the next part. Another reader weighing in with thumbs up for Frodo's determined attitude. I think this is a side of Frodo that more of us want to see, and often! Hoping nothing happens to Sam? More news on that subject to follow.
Misstook1420 - The last chapter caused much worry for Frodo indeed. Will Bramblethorn intercept Frodo and Sam? Now is the time to find out.
~*~
Chapter 12 - Loyal Champions and Friends
Everyone was in position. Merry had taken up a lookout post in the overgrown bushes nearest the road. From there he could see the Smial at his right, or look a fair distance down the road to his left. He would be the first to spot anything amiss from that vantage point.
Pippin's hiding place was nearer the smial in a thicket of trees and bushes. He could see the bushes where Merry was hidden to his left and the smial to his right. It was a great advantage to them that there seemed to be a lot of greenery in the area. If the trees and bushes had been sparser, their task would be more difficult to manage.
Both made sure they were concealed from view from both the road and the smial. It took some doing, and meant assuming a very uncomfortable position squarely in the middle of the tangle of underbrush.
Sam waited among the trees across the road from them. As soon as Bramblethorn left and was safely down the path, he would be through that door in a flash. He prayed that Frodo was there. If Bramblethorn had been keeping him elsewhere, it would be a bitter disappointment.
They waited for Bramblethorn to emerge, and eventually he did. Sam was sickened by his enemy's swagger and self-satisfied look. He'd wipe that smirk off that vile hobbit's face!
Bramblethorn walked away down the path and disappeared around the bend. Merry's head popped up from the tangle of leafy bushes and he signaled to Sam. Looking down the road in the direction Bramblethorn had gone, Sam crossed the road and approached the overgrown door of the smial.
Fortunately the locks were long since broken and rusted, and the door opened easily. Sam gazed around the musty parlor cautiously. What a creepy place! There was always something that felt strange about a place that had been left behind by its occupants, and the rather eerie aura was enhanced by the tendrils of the roots dangling above him. They reminded him of snakes.
Sam saw no sign of Frodo. He prepared to venture deeper into the darkness ahead, grabbing a candle from a tabletop and lighting it. He held it cautiously before him as he proceeded silently down the darkened corridor.
The abandoned residence was much smaller than Bag End, he noted. Frodo, if he was indeed there, had to be in one of the rooms down the corridor. He stopped to listen but he heard no sound except the pounding of his own heart.
One step forward. Two, three. His steps quickened as the glow of the candle revealed a closed door with a wooden chair propped under the knob. With his heart nearly bursting, Sam grabbed the chair and hurled it away. Frodo was in there! He had to be!
The door didn't seem to have a lock, but refused to budge as he pulled on it. The hinges were rusted and bent so the door hung off - center. It was wedged tightly shut, and even by applying all of his strength, Sam couldn't make it budge. He rammed his shoulder against it in frustration, and was slightly taken aback when he heard what he thought was the sound of wood cracking.
~*~
Frodo hovered between dreams and waking. He had long since lost track of time. The complete darkness of his prison closed in around him and left him with no idea whether it was day or night. During his moments of alertness, he sometimes thought he heard something and his heart would begin to race. Bramblethorn would be coming back, and there would be no escaping him.
For the moment, he was asleep and dreaming about home, about the garden in the sunshine. He dreamed Sam was there, not working for the moment, but just talking with him. The wind began to pick up and a storm cloud appeared in the sky. He heard a loud crack of thunder, but saw no flash of lightning. Lightning was supposed to come first, then thunder afterward. Dreams made such little sense, sometimes. He moaned and stirred slightly, restless as the visions passed before his mind's eye.
~*~
Sam inspected the wooden door more closely. The wood was old and dry, and had been damaged by boring worms and insects. There was indeed a small crack in it now, and Sam felt a surge of hope. He backed away from the door as far as the corridor walls would allow, set his shoulder in position and charged into it. The door gave way with a loud, splintering crack and he tumbled through its shattered remains.
Sam got to his feet and stepped back into the hallway to retrieve his candle. He turned back and looked into the shadows of the little room. Hearing a soft sound, he raised the candle higher to cast its light into the corners of the room. A figure lying on the floor, listless and pale, bound hand and foot. His breath caught in his throat and he moved forward almost mechanically.
A plethora of emotions assailed Sam as he rushed to Frodo's side. He felt rage at the horrid Bramblethorn for his cruel treatment of Frodo, fear for his beloved master, and crushing guilt. He was to blame! If he had been more vigilant, Bramblethorn would have had no opportunity to spirit Frodo away and torment him so.
~Did that monster - did he hurt him?~ Sam wondered fearfully. Was he too late to save Mr. Frodo from the unspeakable things Bramblethorn had wanted to do to him? Sam was horrified at the torn and disheveled appearance of Frodo's clothing, and he suspected the worst.
He knelt at Frodo's side, tears falling like rain as he cradled his master's frail form in his arms and gently removed the gag from Frodo's mouth.
~*~
Rain. He was in the garden, and it was raining. A drop ran down from his forehead, tracing a line along his nose to his lips. But this rain wasn't right. Rain wasn't supposed to taste salty.
He opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the presence of the candlelight. It seemed so bright after the total darkness that it made his eyes sting. Someone was holding him, holding him and weeping gently. The touch was familiar, soothing rather than invasive and harsh.
His own tears began to fall as his vision cleared and Sam's grief-stricken face looked into his own.
~*~
Merry watched the road pensively. It seemed hours since Sam had entered the abandoned smial, but it had really been only minutes. He caught sight of something moving out the corner of his eye.
His eyes widened in shock and horror as he saw Bramblethorn walking back up the path again! Eru, no! Why was he coming back already? He must have forgotten something and was returning unexpectedly. Sam was still in there!
Frantically, Merry waved to Pippin. He pointed at the road and mouthed, "He's coming!" Pippin's eyes widened. He nodded at Merry and burst from the bushes, racing to the door of the smial at top speed. He yanked the door open and shouted a warning into the darkness.
"Sam! He's back! He's coming up the road!" That panicky call was all he had time for, and he ran for cover again, hoping Sam could find a suitable weapon and wield it effectively until he and Merry could join in the fray that was sure to begin.
~*~
"Oh, Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried miserably as he held Frodo close. "Please be all right! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there! " Sam fought to regain his composure. This was not the time to fall apart! He had to untie Frodo and take him to safety.
"S-sam?" Frodo whispered hoarsely. Frodo blinked several times to clear his vision and to make sure he wasn't seeing things. As he did his eyes widened and a relieved, disbelieving sob burst from his throat. "How did you find - "
"No time now, Mr. Frodo, Sam said urgently. "But I'm here. I'm taking you out of this foul place!" Sam worked frantically at Frodo's bonds in the flickering candlelight. The knots were tight. Blast it all! He needed something sharp to sever the rope. The kitchen! Perhaps the former occupants of the place had left some utensils behind. He gently laid Frodo back against the floor and rose to his feet. "Hold on Mr. Frodo! I'm coming right back!"
He stepped out of the room into the corridor and found the kitchen. He began rummaging hastily through it for a knife he could use to sever Frodo's bonds. Nothing! He dug frantically through the kitchen looking for anything that looked like it might hold utensils. That was when he heard Pippin's panicked voice call out, "He's back! He's coming up the road!"
Sam's jaw set in a grim line. There was no way to get Frodo out of there except the way he came in, and that was no longer an option. Let him come, then! He'd been hoping for a chance to give Bramblethorn what he deserved, and it looked like he was going to get one.
Still unable to find a knife and having no time to search further, Sam looked around instead for something readily available that he could use to defend himself and his master. Frodo's bonds would have to wait. There was another wooden chair in the kitchen, underneath the window. He grabbed it and raised it above his head, smashing it against the wall. It broke apart with a satisfying crunch.
He picked up one of the legs and looked it over quickly. It looked sturdy enough, and he swung it in front of him a couple of times to test its weight. There was nowhere to hide in the kitchen, and the hallway, though darkened, offered little possibility of concealment. He rushed back into the room where Frodo lay, and flattened himself as much as possible against the wall by the door.
"Don't you worry, Mr. Frodo!" he said. "I'll have that devil's head on a pike before I'll let him touch you again!"
Paralyzed with fear for his gardener, Frodo stared at the doorway.
~*~
Bramblethorn opened the door and stepped into the parlor, berating himself for his absentmindedness. He'd forgotten his pipe! It was scarcely a critical lapse of attention, he told himself, but he'd like to have it with him. If he had to wait for the Mayor to appear for their meeting, a smoke would be a pleasant diversion to pass the time.
He crossed the room and retrieved it from the table, tucking it carefully into his pocket. He turned back toward the door and put his hand on the knob - and froze. Light was coming from down the corridor. There should be no light! He had left Frodo in total darkness, to punish him for his most recent act of defiance.
He turned and began walking down the corridor. His hands clenched into fists. Whoever was there was about to suffer the consequences for interfering with his plans and his prisoner. He would rend the intruder to pieces!
~*~
Sam held his breath. He could hear Bramblethorn's footsteps as the other hobbit approached. ~Come on, you! Just come a little closer!~ He'd thrash that evil creature, no mistake! He readied the chair leg in his hands and waited.
Bramblethorn's face was a mask of rage as he stepped through the broken fragments of the door. His captive was still there, but a candle burned near him and he was no longer gagged. Frodo was staring at him fearfully.
Just as Sam stepped from the shadows behind him and raised the chair leg to strike, Bramblethorn spun around and slammed into him. Knocked off - balance, Sam swung wide of his target and the chair leg missed its intended mark and connected with Bramblethorn's shoulder instead.
Bramblethorn grasped Sam's wrist in a viselike grip and began to twist it, trying to make him drop the weapon. "I don't know how you found this place, servant," he ground out, "but you will wish you hadn't!"
"I'll finish you this time!" Sam spat back, and brought his free hand around to slam a fist into Bramblethorn's jaw. The grip on Sam's wrist was broken as Bramblethorn reeled backward.
Recovering with unnatural speed, Bramblethorn aimed a retaliatory blow at Sam's face. Sam managed to duck the right hook, but met with the left that followed it. Bramblethorn could fight, Sam admitted to himself as he staggered back, brandishing the chair leg. The two circled each other in the light of the flickering candle.
"He's got a strong constitution," Bramblethorn sneered, gesturing to Frodo's bound form. "It took quite a bit of effort to break him." Frodo had passed out again, terror and shock overwhelming him in his weakened condition.
Sam snarled and swung at the monstrous creature before him. Bramblethorn ducked the swing and continued their deadly dance, eyes locked with Sam's as he taunted him. Sam noticed a bandage on one of Bramblethorn's hands. He hoped Frodo had been responsible for it.
"I haven't fully enjoyed his companionship yet, if you were wondering," he said nastily. "But rest assured, when I'm finished with you, I shall. I shall take him right here, even as you are dying before his lovely blue eyes."
It was too much for Sam to bear. "You'll not touch him again!" He shouted in fury. "Never!" He swung the chair leg again, aiming directly at Bramblethorn's head. As his enemy moved to dodge the blow, Sam changed the direction of his swing slightly. His blow lost some of its potency due to the change in angle, but it connected and Bramblethorn staggered.
As Sam charged him, Bramblethorn straightened somewhat and managed to kick him in the midsection, knocking the wind out of him. Taking advantage of Sam's momentary distress, he then tackled the gardener, bringing him down.
Lying on his back and gasping, Sam brought the chair leg up for another swing. Bramblethorn grabbed it with both hands and began to press it downwards toward Sam's throat. Sam's grip held and he pushed back as the two grappled, locked in hatred and bent on each other's destruction.
"Did you know he cried out your name in his dreams, gardener?" Bramblethorn hissed. "I shall make him cry out, but not to you! His screams will echo from these walls until his voice fails him entirely!"
A burst of strength born of pure rage flared within him, and Sam twisted hard to the left, rolling both combatants across the floor. Sam landed on top this time and slammed Bramblethorn back against the floor.
In the split second before Sam could lock his grip on the villain, Bramblethorn kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backwards. Frodo's captor regained his feet and stood with his back to the broken door. He drew back his foot and kicked Sam hard in the ribs. He drew back his leg for another kick as Sam struggled to rise again. Behind Bramblethorn, a shadow fell across the doorway.
Bramblethorn turned - and caught a face full of Merry's fist. "Greetings from Buckland, Bramblethorn!" Merry called out, rubbing his hand. A touch of pain, somehow satisfying, flared in his knuckles.
Bramblethorn was momentarily stunned by the blow. He wasn't prepared for Pippin bursting in after Merry and giving him similar treatment. "And regards from Tuckborough as well!" Pippin sang out, contributing gladly to the brawl.
Sam, meanwhile, had managed to right himself again, despite the searing pain in his ribs. Bramblethorn stood facing the doorway and his two new opponents, as Sam stood, momentarily forgotten, behind him. Sam glanced quickly over his shoulder at Frodo's motionless form in the corner. His eyes blazed and he stepped forward, grabbing the stunned Bramblethorn and spinning him around. He drew back and plowed his fist into Bramblethorn's temple as hard as he could. "That's for Mr. Frodo!"
Bramblethorn crumpled to the floor and lay motionless. Sam stood, breathing hard, one hand holding his side where Bramblethorn had kicked him. "Mr. Merry! Mr. Pippin!" Sam gasped. "It's right good to have your help, and that's a fact."
Merry clapped a hand to Sam's shoulder. "You can count on us, Sam," he said, smiling grimly. "Frodo!" The smile disappeared as he turned his eyes to where Frodo was lying. "Is he all right, Sam?" Merry's brow was furrowed with concern. How badly had Frodo been injured? Merry almost wished Bramblethorn would wake up so he could have another go at him.
Sam was already moving toward Frodo. "He had better be all right, Mr. Merry," he replied, his voice dark with emotion.
Merry saw Frodo move a little as Sam reached his side. He nodded. Frodo was in the best possible hands now. "You see to Frodo, and Pip and I will see to Bramblethorn."
Merry and Pippin each grabbed one of Bramblethorn's arms and dragged the unconscious hobbit from the room. Sam ran out after them and into the kitchen to resume his search for something that would cut through the ropes binding Frodo's feet and hands. Now searching less frantically, he found a small knife with a serrated edge that should be able to saw through the fibers of the rope.
He knelt by Frodo's side and freed his master's hands as gently as possible, being careful not to hurt him. Frodo's wrists were red and inflamed from the chafing of his bonds, and it tore at Sam's heart to see them. He then sawed through the rope at Frodo's ankles.
Dropping the knife unceremoniously upon the floor, Sam clutched Frodo to him in a tight embrace. His tears began to fall again as he spoke. "Mr. Frodo, I couldn't let him -" his voice caught and he choked back a sob. "Those things he was sayin', about what he was going to do to you - I should have killed him!"
"Sam - " Frodo reached up to touch Sam's tear-stained face softly. Sam noticed small blood stains on Frodo's shirt and caught his breath.
Frodo spoke haltingly as Sam touched the stained fabric with trembling fingers. "Not mine," Frodo breathed.
"His hand?" Sam whispered, reaching for Frodo's hand as he spoke.
Frodo nodded slightly. "I - I bit him," he explained as he tried to sit up.
Sam wore a look of wonder as he looked at Frodo. His master had been bound and beaten, brutally mistreated for days at the hands of a horrible enemy, and had still found the strength to fight back to the very last.
"You fought him hard, didn't you, Mr. Frodo?" Sam said quietly, not really expecting an answer. "You're the bravest hobbit in the Shire, no mistake."
Frodo didn't feel brave. He felt weary and sore, in both body and spirit. "It was so - so dark," he whispered. "He left me in the dark, Sam. To punish me for fighting him - "
"Ssshhh," Sam soothed. "It won't be dark anymore, Mr. Frodo." Sam collected himself and concentrated on Frodo. He would be all right. He had to be!
"You're a miracle, Sam," Frodo said softly. "Every time I need you, as if by magic, you appear." He smiled slightly and leaned into Sam's embrace, finally feeling safe, feeling loved.
~*~To be continued~*~
Endymion - Sam is showing remarkable self-control, isn't he? The risks to himself and to Frodo are just too great if he doesn't follow the plan. You'd like a crack at Bramblethorn? You're not alone there, I'm sure. That was pretty mean of him to continue threatening Sam even after Frodo cooperated! Unforeseen complications? Maybe.
Aratlithiel - Yes, Sam is going into the rescue hale and hearty and unhurt. Frodo has had a rough time, hasn't he? You're right, though. There will be plenty of TLC coming his way later on.
ZoSo Gamgee - Baggins - No one messes with Gamgee rage! Yeah, remind me not to tick Sam off. Ever! Just a little bit slashy with Frodo and Sam, but not over the top, agreed. I like to leave a little to the imagination, so to speak. Glad you're finding it enjoyable!
Camellia Gamgee-Took - Yes, Frodo is at the point where his hope is running a little low. Just one of those moments, though. He'll bounce back. There will be happy hobbit hugging in the future, I promise!
FrodoBaggins1982 - Chapter 11 was a bit tough for Frodo, but you're right. It could have been worse. Challenge - describe Bramblethorn in 10 words or less - "Pompous, orc - sucking, horse - faced, balrog!" Awesome.
QTPie - 2488 - Welcome back! Now that you've had time to get up to date, here's the next part. Another reader weighing in with thumbs up for Frodo's determined attitude. I think this is a side of Frodo that more of us want to see, and often! Hoping nothing happens to Sam? More news on that subject to follow.
Misstook1420 - The last chapter caused much worry for Frodo indeed. Will Bramblethorn intercept Frodo and Sam? Now is the time to find out.
~*~
Chapter 12 - Loyal Champions and Friends
Everyone was in position. Merry had taken up a lookout post in the overgrown bushes nearest the road. From there he could see the Smial at his right, or look a fair distance down the road to his left. He would be the first to spot anything amiss from that vantage point.
Pippin's hiding place was nearer the smial in a thicket of trees and bushes. He could see the bushes where Merry was hidden to his left and the smial to his right. It was a great advantage to them that there seemed to be a lot of greenery in the area. If the trees and bushes had been sparser, their task would be more difficult to manage.
Both made sure they were concealed from view from both the road and the smial. It took some doing, and meant assuming a very uncomfortable position squarely in the middle of the tangle of underbrush.
Sam waited among the trees across the road from them. As soon as Bramblethorn left and was safely down the path, he would be through that door in a flash. He prayed that Frodo was there. If Bramblethorn had been keeping him elsewhere, it would be a bitter disappointment.
They waited for Bramblethorn to emerge, and eventually he did. Sam was sickened by his enemy's swagger and self-satisfied look. He'd wipe that smirk off that vile hobbit's face!
Bramblethorn walked away down the path and disappeared around the bend. Merry's head popped up from the tangle of leafy bushes and he signaled to Sam. Looking down the road in the direction Bramblethorn had gone, Sam crossed the road and approached the overgrown door of the smial.
Fortunately the locks were long since broken and rusted, and the door opened easily. Sam gazed around the musty parlor cautiously. What a creepy place! There was always something that felt strange about a place that had been left behind by its occupants, and the rather eerie aura was enhanced by the tendrils of the roots dangling above him. They reminded him of snakes.
Sam saw no sign of Frodo. He prepared to venture deeper into the darkness ahead, grabbing a candle from a tabletop and lighting it. He held it cautiously before him as he proceeded silently down the darkened corridor.
The abandoned residence was much smaller than Bag End, he noted. Frodo, if he was indeed there, had to be in one of the rooms down the corridor. He stopped to listen but he heard no sound except the pounding of his own heart.
One step forward. Two, three. His steps quickened as the glow of the candle revealed a closed door with a wooden chair propped under the knob. With his heart nearly bursting, Sam grabbed the chair and hurled it away. Frodo was in there! He had to be!
The door didn't seem to have a lock, but refused to budge as he pulled on it. The hinges were rusted and bent so the door hung off - center. It was wedged tightly shut, and even by applying all of his strength, Sam couldn't make it budge. He rammed his shoulder against it in frustration, and was slightly taken aback when he heard what he thought was the sound of wood cracking.
~*~
Frodo hovered between dreams and waking. He had long since lost track of time. The complete darkness of his prison closed in around him and left him with no idea whether it was day or night. During his moments of alertness, he sometimes thought he heard something and his heart would begin to race. Bramblethorn would be coming back, and there would be no escaping him.
For the moment, he was asleep and dreaming about home, about the garden in the sunshine. He dreamed Sam was there, not working for the moment, but just talking with him. The wind began to pick up and a storm cloud appeared in the sky. He heard a loud crack of thunder, but saw no flash of lightning. Lightning was supposed to come first, then thunder afterward. Dreams made such little sense, sometimes. He moaned and stirred slightly, restless as the visions passed before his mind's eye.
~*~
Sam inspected the wooden door more closely. The wood was old and dry, and had been damaged by boring worms and insects. There was indeed a small crack in it now, and Sam felt a surge of hope. He backed away from the door as far as the corridor walls would allow, set his shoulder in position and charged into it. The door gave way with a loud, splintering crack and he tumbled through its shattered remains.
Sam got to his feet and stepped back into the hallway to retrieve his candle. He turned back and looked into the shadows of the little room. Hearing a soft sound, he raised the candle higher to cast its light into the corners of the room. A figure lying on the floor, listless and pale, bound hand and foot. His breath caught in his throat and he moved forward almost mechanically.
A plethora of emotions assailed Sam as he rushed to Frodo's side. He felt rage at the horrid Bramblethorn for his cruel treatment of Frodo, fear for his beloved master, and crushing guilt. He was to blame! If he had been more vigilant, Bramblethorn would have had no opportunity to spirit Frodo away and torment him so.
~Did that monster - did he hurt him?~ Sam wondered fearfully. Was he too late to save Mr. Frodo from the unspeakable things Bramblethorn had wanted to do to him? Sam was horrified at the torn and disheveled appearance of Frodo's clothing, and he suspected the worst.
He knelt at Frodo's side, tears falling like rain as he cradled his master's frail form in his arms and gently removed the gag from Frodo's mouth.
~*~
Rain. He was in the garden, and it was raining. A drop ran down from his forehead, tracing a line along his nose to his lips. But this rain wasn't right. Rain wasn't supposed to taste salty.
He opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the presence of the candlelight. It seemed so bright after the total darkness that it made his eyes sting. Someone was holding him, holding him and weeping gently. The touch was familiar, soothing rather than invasive and harsh.
His own tears began to fall as his vision cleared and Sam's grief-stricken face looked into his own.
~*~
Merry watched the road pensively. It seemed hours since Sam had entered the abandoned smial, but it had really been only minutes. He caught sight of something moving out the corner of his eye.
His eyes widened in shock and horror as he saw Bramblethorn walking back up the path again! Eru, no! Why was he coming back already? He must have forgotten something and was returning unexpectedly. Sam was still in there!
Frantically, Merry waved to Pippin. He pointed at the road and mouthed, "He's coming!" Pippin's eyes widened. He nodded at Merry and burst from the bushes, racing to the door of the smial at top speed. He yanked the door open and shouted a warning into the darkness.
"Sam! He's back! He's coming up the road!" That panicky call was all he had time for, and he ran for cover again, hoping Sam could find a suitable weapon and wield it effectively until he and Merry could join in the fray that was sure to begin.
~*~
"Oh, Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried miserably as he held Frodo close. "Please be all right! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there! " Sam fought to regain his composure. This was not the time to fall apart! He had to untie Frodo and take him to safety.
"S-sam?" Frodo whispered hoarsely. Frodo blinked several times to clear his vision and to make sure he wasn't seeing things. As he did his eyes widened and a relieved, disbelieving sob burst from his throat. "How did you find - "
"No time now, Mr. Frodo, Sam said urgently. "But I'm here. I'm taking you out of this foul place!" Sam worked frantically at Frodo's bonds in the flickering candlelight. The knots were tight. Blast it all! He needed something sharp to sever the rope. The kitchen! Perhaps the former occupants of the place had left some utensils behind. He gently laid Frodo back against the floor and rose to his feet. "Hold on Mr. Frodo! I'm coming right back!"
He stepped out of the room into the corridor and found the kitchen. He began rummaging hastily through it for a knife he could use to sever Frodo's bonds. Nothing! He dug frantically through the kitchen looking for anything that looked like it might hold utensils. That was when he heard Pippin's panicked voice call out, "He's back! He's coming up the road!"
Sam's jaw set in a grim line. There was no way to get Frodo out of there except the way he came in, and that was no longer an option. Let him come, then! He'd been hoping for a chance to give Bramblethorn what he deserved, and it looked like he was going to get one.
Still unable to find a knife and having no time to search further, Sam looked around instead for something readily available that he could use to defend himself and his master. Frodo's bonds would have to wait. There was another wooden chair in the kitchen, underneath the window. He grabbed it and raised it above his head, smashing it against the wall. It broke apart with a satisfying crunch.
He picked up one of the legs and looked it over quickly. It looked sturdy enough, and he swung it in front of him a couple of times to test its weight. There was nowhere to hide in the kitchen, and the hallway, though darkened, offered little possibility of concealment. He rushed back into the room where Frodo lay, and flattened himself as much as possible against the wall by the door.
"Don't you worry, Mr. Frodo!" he said. "I'll have that devil's head on a pike before I'll let him touch you again!"
Paralyzed with fear for his gardener, Frodo stared at the doorway.
~*~
Bramblethorn opened the door and stepped into the parlor, berating himself for his absentmindedness. He'd forgotten his pipe! It was scarcely a critical lapse of attention, he told himself, but he'd like to have it with him. If he had to wait for the Mayor to appear for their meeting, a smoke would be a pleasant diversion to pass the time.
He crossed the room and retrieved it from the table, tucking it carefully into his pocket. He turned back toward the door and put his hand on the knob - and froze. Light was coming from down the corridor. There should be no light! He had left Frodo in total darkness, to punish him for his most recent act of defiance.
He turned and began walking down the corridor. His hands clenched into fists. Whoever was there was about to suffer the consequences for interfering with his plans and his prisoner. He would rend the intruder to pieces!
~*~
Sam held his breath. He could hear Bramblethorn's footsteps as the other hobbit approached. ~Come on, you! Just come a little closer!~ He'd thrash that evil creature, no mistake! He readied the chair leg in his hands and waited.
Bramblethorn's face was a mask of rage as he stepped through the broken fragments of the door. His captive was still there, but a candle burned near him and he was no longer gagged. Frodo was staring at him fearfully.
Just as Sam stepped from the shadows behind him and raised the chair leg to strike, Bramblethorn spun around and slammed into him. Knocked off - balance, Sam swung wide of his target and the chair leg missed its intended mark and connected with Bramblethorn's shoulder instead.
Bramblethorn grasped Sam's wrist in a viselike grip and began to twist it, trying to make him drop the weapon. "I don't know how you found this place, servant," he ground out, "but you will wish you hadn't!"
"I'll finish you this time!" Sam spat back, and brought his free hand around to slam a fist into Bramblethorn's jaw. The grip on Sam's wrist was broken as Bramblethorn reeled backward.
Recovering with unnatural speed, Bramblethorn aimed a retaliatory blow at Sam's face. Sam managed to duck the right hook, but met with the left that followed it. Bramblethorn could fight, Sam admitted to himself as he staggered back, brandishing the chair leg. The two circled each other in the light of the flickering candle.
"He's got a strong constitution," Bramblethorn sneered, gesturing to Frodo's bound form. "It took quite a bit of effort to break him." Frodo had passed out again, terror and shock overwhelming him in his weakened condition.
Sam snarled and swung at the monstrous creature before him. Bramblethorn ducked the swing and continued their deadly dance, eyes locked with Sam's as he taunted him. Sam noticed a bandage on one of Bramblethorn's hands. He hoped Frodo had been responsible for it.
"I haven't fully enjoyed his companionship yet, if you were wondering," he said nastily. "But rest assured, when I'm finished with you, I shall. I shall take him right here, even as you are dying before his lovely blue eyes."
It was too much for Sam to bear. "You'll not touch him again!" He shouted in fury. "Never!" He swung the chair leg again, aiming directly at Bramblethorn's head. As his enemy moved to dodge the blow, Sam changed the direction of his swing slightly. His blow lost some of its potency due to the change in angle, but it connected and Bramblethorn staggered.
As Sam charged him, Bramblethorn straightened somewhat and managed to kick him in the midsection, knocking the wind out of him. Taking advantage of Sam's momentary distress, he then tackled the gardener, bringing him down.
Lying on his back and gasping, Sam brought the chair leg up for another swing. Bramblethorn grabbed it with both hands and began to press it downwards toward Sam's throat. Sam's grip held and he pushed back as the two grappled, locked in hatred and bent on each other's destruction.
"Did you know he cried out your name in his dreams, gardener?" Bramblethorn hissed. "I shall make him cry out, but not to you! His screams will echo from these walls until his voice fails him entirely!"
A burst of strength born of pure rage flared within him, and Sam twisted hard to the left, rolling both combatants across the floor. Sam landed on top this time and slammed Bramblethorn back against the floor.
In the split second before Sam could lock his grip on the villain, Bramblethorn kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backwards. Frodo's captor regained his feet and stood with his back to the broken door. He drew back his foot and kicked Sam hard in the ribs. He drew back his leg for another kick as Sam struggled to rise again. Behind Bramblethorn, a shadow fell across the doorway.
Bramblethorn turned - and caught a face full of Merry's fist. "Greetings from Buckland, Bramblethorn!" Merry called out, rubbing his hand. A touch of pain, somehow satisfying, flared in his knuckles.
Bramblethorn was momentarily stunned by the blow. He wasn't prepared for Pippin bursting in after Merry and giving him similar treatment. "And regards from Tuckborough as well!" Pippin sang out, contributing gladly to the brawl.
Sam, meanwhile, had managed to right himself again, despite the searing pain in his ribs. Bramblethorn stood facing the doorway and his two new opponents, as Sam stood, momentarily forgotten, behind him. Sam glanced quickly over his shoulder at Frodo's motionless form in the corner. His eyes blazed and he stepped forward, grabbing the stunned Bramblethorn and spinning him around. He drew back and plowed his fist into Bramblethorn's temple as hard as he could. "That's for Mr. Frodo!"
Bramblethorn crumpled to the floor and lay motionless. Sam stood, breathing hard, one hand holding his side where Bramblethorn had kicked him. "Mr. Merry! Mr. Pippin!" Sam gasped. "It's right good to have your help, and that's a fact."
Merry clapped a hand to Sam's shoulder. "You can count on us, Sam," he said, smiling grimly. "Frodo!" The smile disappeared as he turned his eyes to where Frodo was lying. "Is he all right, Sam?" Merry's brow was furrowed with concern. How badly had Frodo been injured? Merry almost wished Bramblethorn would wake up so he could have another go at him.
Sam was already moving toward Frodo. "He had better be all right, Mr. Merry," he replied, his voice dark with emotion.
Merry saw Frodo move a little as Sam reached his side. He nodded. Frodo was in the best possible hands now. "You see to Frodo, and Pip and I will see to Bramblethorn."
Merry and Pippin each grabbed one of Bramblethorn's arms and dragged the unconscious hobbit from the room. Sam ran out after them and into the kitchen to resume his search for something that would cut through the ropes binding Frodo's feet and hands. Now searching less frantically, he found a small knife with a serrated edge that should be able to saw through the fibers of the rope.
He knelt by Frodo's side and freed his master's hands as gently as possible, being careful not to hurt him. Frodo's wrists were red and inflamed from the chafing of his bonds, and it tore at Sam's heart to see them. He then sawed through the rope at Frodo's ankles.
Dropping the knife unceremoniously upon the floor, Sam clutched Frodo to him in a tight embrace. His tears began to fall again as he spoke. "Mr. Frodo, I couldn't let him -" his voice caught and he choked back a sob. "Those things he was sayin', about what he was going to do to you - I should have killed him!"
"Sam - " Frodo reached up to touch Sam's tear-stained face softly. Sam noticed small blood stains on Frodo's shirt and caught his breath.
Frodo spoke haltingly as Sam touched the stained fabric with trembling fingers. "Not mine," Frodo breathed.
"His hand?" Sam whispered, reaching for Frodo's hand as he spoke.
Frodo nodded slightly. "I - I bit him," he explained as he tried to sit up.
Sam wore a look of wonder as he looked at Frodo. His master had been bound and beaten, brutally mistreated for days at the hands of a horrible enemy, and had still found the strength to fight back to the very last.
"You fought him hard, didn't you, Mr. Frodo?" Sam said quietly, not really expecting an answer. "You're the bravest hobbit in the Shire, no mistake."
Frodo didn't feel brave. He felt weary and sore, in both body and spirit. "It was so - so dark," he whispered. "He left me in the dark, Sam. To punish me for fighting him - "
"Ssshhh," Sam soothed. "It won't be dark anymore, Mr. Frodo." Sam collected himself and concentrated on Frodo. He would be all right. He had to be!
"You're a miracle, Sam," Frodo said softly. "Every time I need you, as if by magic, you appear." He smiled slightly and leaned into Sam's embrace, finally feeling safe, feeling loved.
~*~To be continued~*~