Natta: . but is it good? Will you keep reading it?
aelgifu: You tell me! I'm obsessed myself. Well, I just can say, I'll try my best to keep it going. Thanks for your support!
CleopatraVII: Hey, thanks for your information about the setting. I'm new here so I really don't know much about how ff.net works. Please keep reading and review.
Andysprincess: Thanks for the constant reviews!
Warning: AU, dark, violence
Chapter 8
He blinked several times but still didn't see a thing. Had he gone blind?
Frodo tried to calm himself, drawing breaths in and out. Everything would be fine, he reassured himself. What he needed to do was just get used to the situation.
He was right. After a moment adjusting himself to the darkness, he started to recognize forms around him.
He got to his feet. Luckily his cousins had clothed him again with his shirt and coat. He was rather sad about his cloak that had been blown by the wind. He hoped it wouldn't be too cold here without the cloak.
Examining the place where he was locked in while groping on the walls, he could tell that the room had to be a cellar since it had no windows. He found only a door that didn't even have a keyhole or a door handle! Feeling desperate and exhausted, he rested his back against the door and slid down to the floor.
Frodo buried his head in his two hands, fighting hard not to sob. No, he couldn't afford to go weak right now. He had to be tough and strong. A way out, yes, he needed to find that. Think, think!
Turning back facing the door, he started to thump on it. Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Hey!" He shouted as loud as possible. "Anybody! Get me out of here! Help! HELP!!!" He stopped to listen to any sign from the other side of the door. Nothing. Again, he cried out, "HELP! HELP ME! ANYBODY! PLEASE!"
Frodo placed his ear against the door, listening. None. Not even a single sound of the wind. He was wondering where he could be.
After several minutes thumping and yelling, Frodo gave up. His throat felt dry. He kicked the door, irritated, and cried out as a searing pain hit his foot.
He was left alone for how long he couldn't tell. He slipped to unconsciousness and came to for several times. He felt weaker and weaker every minute.
But once he was aware of someone else's presence. It was still too dark to see but he knew it was Merry. Frodo didn't get up or show a sign of acknowledgment for he was very tired and starving, and the thought of Merry alone left him with mixed feelings. Fear, disgust, confusion, but also sadness.
"Frodo." The voice frighteningly soft, Frodo shivered slightly. He was thankful that he was still able to think straight. He shuddered to the image of what would happen if he lost his common sense and couldn't tell illusion from reality.
"You remember Bilbo's ring, Frodo?" asked Merry. "It's mine now. But I still need to ask you something, cousin. What's exactly the use of it? How can it be useful for me? I know it looks precious, but I don't think Bilbo wanted to keep it for so long if it's just a common piece of jewelry."
Unexpectedly, a roar of laughter exploded from Frodo's mouth. A cynical one, though, not his merry and crispy one.
"Merry --- Merry," he breathed. "Give it up! You know I won't tell you anything about that. It's so silly of you to think that I would ever reveal the ring's secret. It's mine! My own!"
Merry went pale. For a moment he was completely abashed. It was so right of Frodo to call him silly. Where else could you find a thief who didn't really know what to do with treasure already gained? But hey, now, who did you call a thief?! Merry shook his thoughts off, feeling even much sillier. He looked down at Frodo who was lying on his stomach on the floor. Unlike Frodo, he had a very clear sight against the darkness thanks to the ring.
"Frodo, look at me," ordered him. There were no sound and no sign of Frodo obeying his command. "I said, LOOK AT ME!!" He grabbed a lock of Frodo's curls and jerked it up, forcing Frodo to look up. Frodo's eyes flashed wildly, unsure to what direction he had to see. He winced because of the pain.
"I --- I wouldn't tell you anything - ahh - Merry," he repeated, reaching for the hand holding his hair tightly. Merry sneered at the unseeing hobbit, tightening the grasp.
"Tell me, Frodo, now!"
"No!"
"Well, then, you asked for it!"
Mercilessly, he tossed Frodo's head hard against the tiled floor. Frodo was too shocked by the action and the pain that suddenly erupted on his forehead to scream. He choked and sank back to the oblivion.
***
"What's your name?" asked Strider. Sam gave him his name.
"I'm his gardener," he added. Strider looked at him unbelievingly.
"A gardener! What did a gardener do in such a dangerous quest your master had to go through?"
Sam said, defensively, "I have to follow my master wherever he goes! I made a promise to Gandalf to never leave him alone."
Strider looked stricken. "You know Gandalf!"
"Of course I do!"
"So you must know the manner of your quest as to why your master had to leave the Shire?"
"I do. I mean I know what thing he has and the story of the dark lord and all. But I'm not really sure about what he will do."
Strider let the information sink. Then he asked another question.
"Who are the two hobbits I saw with Frodo?"
Sam threw his glance out of the window. Clouds seemed to shade over his eyes. "They are Mr. Frodo's cousins, Mr. Strider, sir," said Sam faintly. "I couldn't understand why they had brought harm to Frodo. The bigger of the two is Merry and the other one is Pippin." The ranger seemed to be taken aback. Cousins?! Their behaviors appeared more like those of orcs.
***
Moaning, Frodo was slowly regaining his consciousness. His head was throbbing badly. He reached his forehead and felt warm, sticky liquid. It had to be his blood. He got up and rushed to what he thought was the corner of the room. He felt like the world was spinning heavily but he didn't care. If he had to vomit, it had to be somewhere seemingly far and unreachable.
Frodo heaved and heaved although it was just fluid. Dizzy and nauseous, he went back to his former spot.
On his way back he bumped into something on the floor. He cursed silently. Apparently he had gone to a different way as nothing was on his way before. But --- the sounds produced were like a falling bottle and gulps of water. His heart stopped. Had there been a bottle of water there? And now the bottle was emptied because of his own carelessness! His terribly dry throat became even more parched as he imagined how good it should be to sip even just a drop of water.
TBC
aelgifu: You tell me! I'm obsessed myself. Well, I just can say, I'll try my best to keep it going. Thanks for your support!
CleopatraVII: Hey, thanks for your information about the setting. I'm new here so I really don't know much about how ff.net works. Please keep reading and review.
Andysprincess: Thanks for the constant reviews!
Warning: AU, dark, violence
Chapter 8
He blinked several times but still didn't see a thing. Had he gone blind?
Frodo tried to calm himself, drawing breaths in and out. Everything would be fine, he reassured himself. What he needed to do was just get used to the situation.
He was right. After a moment adjusting himself to the darkness, he started to recognize forms around him.
He got to his feet. Luckily his cousins had clothed him again with his shirt and coat. He was rather sad about his cloak that had been blown by the wind. He hoped it wouldn't be too cold here without the cloak.
Examining the place where he was locked in while groping on the walls, he could tell that the room had to be a cellar since it had no windows. He found only a door that didn't even have a keyhole or a door handle! Feeling desperate and exhausted, he rested his back against the door and slid down to the floor.
Frodo buried his head in his two hands, fighting hard not to sob. No, he couldn't afford to go weak right now. He had to be tough and strong. A way out, yes, he needed to find that. Think, think!
Turning back facing the door, he started to thump on it. Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Hey!" He shouted as loud as possible. "Anybody! Get me out of here! Help! HELP!!!" He stopped to listen to any sign from the other side of the door. Nothing. Again, he cried out, "HELP! HELP ME! ANYBODY! PLEASE!"
Frodo placed his ear against the door, listening. None. Not even a single sound of the wind. He was wondering where he could be.
After several minutes thumping and yelling, Frodo gave up. His throat felt dry. He kicked the door, irritated, and cried out as a searing pain hit his foot.
He was left alone for how long he couldn't tell. He slipped to unconsciousness and came to for several times. He felt weaker and weaker every minute.
But once he was aware of someone else's presence. It was still too dark to see but he knew it was Merry. Frodo didn't get up or show a sign of acknowledgment for he was very tired and starving, and the thought of Merry alone left him with mixed feelings. Fear, disgust, confusion, but also sadness.
"Frodo." The voice frighteningly soft, Frodo shivered slightly. He was thankful that he was still able to think straight. He shuddered to the image of what would happen if he lost his common sense and couldn't tell illusion from reality.
"You remember Bilbo's ring, Frodo?" asked Merry. "It's mine now. But I still need to ask you something, cousin. What's exactly the use of it? How can it be useful for me? I know it looks precious, but I don't think Bilbo wanted to keep it for so long if it's just a common piece of jewelry."
Unexpectedly, a roar of laughter exploded from Frodo's mouth. A cynical one, though, not his merry and crispy one.
"Merry --- Merry," he breathed. "Give it up! You know I won't tell you anything about that. It's so silly of you to think that I would ever reveal the ring's secret. It's mine! My own!"
Merry went pale. For a moment he was completely abashed. It was so right of Frodo to call him silly. Where else could you find a thief who didn't really know what to do with treasure already gained? But hey, now, who did you call a thief?! Merry shook his thoughts off, feeling even much sillier. He looked down at Frodo who was lying on his stomach on the floor. Unlike Frodo, he had a very clear sight against the darkness thanks to the ring.
"Frodo, look at me," ordered him. There were no sound and no sign of Frodo obeying his command. "I said, LOOK AT ME!!" He grabbed a lock of Frodo's curls and jerked it up, forcing Frodo to look up. Frodo's eyes flashed wildly, unsure to what direction he had to see. He winced because of the pain.
"I --- I wouldn't tell you anything - ahh - Merry," he repeated, reaching for the hand holding his hair tightly. Merry sneered at the unseeing hobbit, tightening the grasp.
"Tell me, Frodo, now!"
"No!"
"Well, then, you asked for it!"
Mercilessly, he tossed Frodo's head hard against the tiled floor. Frodo was too shocked by the action and the pain that suddenly erupted on his forehead to scream. He choked and sank back to the oblivion.
***
"What's your name?" asked Strider. Sam gave him his name.
"I'm his gardener," he added. Strider looked at him unbelievingly.
"A gardener! What did a gardener do in such a dangerous quest your master had to go through?"
Sam said, defensively, "I have to follow my master wherever he goes! I made a promise to Gandalf to never leave him alone."
Strider looked stricken. "You know Gandalf!"
"Of course I do!"
"So you must know the manner of your quest as to why your master had to leave the Shire?"
"I do. I mean I know what thing he has and the story of the dark lord and all. But I'm not really sure about what he will do."
Strider let the information sink. Then he asked another question.
"Who are the two hobbits I saw with Frodo?"
Sam threw his glance out of the window. Clouds seemed to shade over his eyes. "They are Mr. Frodo's cousins, Mr. Strider, sir," said Sam faintly. "I couldn't understand why they had brought harm to Frodo. The bigger of the two is Merry and the other one is Pippin." The ranger seemed to be taken aback. Cousins?! Their behaviors appeared more like those of orcs.
***
Moaning, Frodo was slowly regaining his consciousness. His head was throbbing badly. He reached his forehead and felt warm, sticky liquid. It had to be his blood. He got up and rushed to what he thought was the corner of the room. He felt like the world was spinning heavily but he didn't care. If he had to vomit, it had to be somewhere seemingly far and unreachable.
Frodo heaved and heaved although it was just fluid. Dizzy and nauseous, he went back to his former spot.
On his way back he bumped into something on the floor. He cursed silently. Apparently he had gone to a different way as nothing was on his way before. But --- the sounds produced were like a falling bottle and gulps of water. His heart stopped. Had there been a bottle of water there? And now the bottle was emptied because of his own carelessness! His terribly dry throat became even more parched as he imagined how good it should be to sip even just a drop of water.
TBC
