Chapter 10

The door cracked open. Pippin walked in with a small candle in one

hand and a long, thin cane in the other. Frodo didn't even stir.

Floating between life and death, he was still conversing with his

dead mother.

"Help me, mama," he whispered with a voice of a small boy. "Let me

come with you. Let Merry have the ring."

But a gentle voice persuasively answered, "The ring belongs to you,

my dear boy. Your cousin Bilbo gave it to you. You must claim it

back."

In his sleep Frodo shook his head a little. "That's impossible. Merry

has changed and he is very ---"

"And now he wants to know how it works."

The voice changed a bit although it was still his mama's. Frodo

tilted his head with eyes still closed.

"No, mama. I won't tell him that. It will be very dangerous, even for

Merry."

"Well, you don't know that. Who knows how many good deeds he might do

with the help of the ring.

Frodo grimaced. He remembered all of Merry's cruel manners toward

him. He recalled the beatings, kicking, and drugging that had been

done to him. Why should Merry act differently towards others? Then

the voice was heard again, pushier this time.

"Come on, Frodo. Do what is best - for you. You don't want him to

hurt you again, do you?"

Frodo frowned. He began to wonder. This didn't make sense. His own

mother trying to make him betray a promise he'd made to another?

"Mama?" he continued, questioningly.

Then suddenly, without prior warning, a searing pain sliced across

his leg. His eyes jerked open, a wailing cry escaped from his lips.

He turned his body over. Slowly, Frodo became aware of Pippin's

figure looming over him -clutching a cane-no less! Apparently, Pippin

had just rapped him with it. Frodo shut his eyes back tightly. He

silently made a decision. No, he couldn't stand this kind of

treatment anymore. All of his fighting spirit had left him. The ill-

treatment and confinment had finally broken him. Frodo opened his

eyes just in time to see Pippin's cane raised to deliver a second

thrashing. Frodo raised his hands protectively in front of his face

to ward off the next blow. Frodo let out a small yelp.

"Pip! Take me to Merry! Take me to him now."

Pippin grinned and said sarcastically, "Growing weak, are you?

Can't stand our service anymore, eh? You know what, Frodo. We

wouldn't have gone this far if you have given in from the very

beginning. And Sam didn't have to die."

Frodo gazed up. The old pain resurfaced. Why did they make it so

difficult for him? Why did they like to see him to suffer so much?

Pippin grabbed Frodo by his left arm and pulled him to his feet.

Frodo swayed but managed to steady himself. He pushed himself to

follow Pippin. At times he felt like fainting and hastily caught

Pip's hand. When they were finally outside, Frodo sighed in

disappointment. It was nightime and the world was silent. Frodo saw

that he had been kept in a barn in the wild. He swallowed hard. That

meant nobody would have ever found him unless they had purposely gone

there.

It took quite a long time for them to reach the Black Stallion Inn.

Frodo trudged wearily. Sometimes he was behind Pippin, sometimes in

front. Once it struck his mind to attempt to run away --but he was

doubtful. That would part him even further from the ring. In the end

he decided to continue following Pip.

Frodo struggled to keep himself from falling down. It was tiring,

very tiring. But he didn't want to give up. A hope surged in him. He

had despaired while he was locked in the dark. Now being outside

again, anything could happen. Merry had better beware.

But, Elbereth! It was such a drain to keep himself awake. His body

screamed for food, for rest, and for healing from the torment he had

received. Frodo looked up. Without realizing it, he was down on his

hands and knees.

Pippin looked down upon Frodo in disgust, but with a hint of pity.

Pippin was smaller than Frodo. He would have to drag Frodo if he

wanted to help him move. It was impossible for Pippin to carry Frodo.

"Let's go, Cousin. I'll support you with my shoulder. I really don't

want to pull you by the hair."

Frodo cringed at the possibility. Pippin's words stirred him into

motion. Yet there was something about Pippin's words and the way he

said them. They almost sounded like words the sweet old Pip he used

to know might say. Frodo lifted his hand and was taken strangely

gently by his cousin.

"Pip," he said, tears welling in his azure eyes. But he didn't

continue as he recognized Pippin had returned to his new self --cold,

distant, and cruel. He half-dragged Frodo to the inn.

Inside, Frodo was welcomed by curious glances from the guests in the

inn's pub. Frodo had been hoping that someone would be kind enough as

to inquire about his injured face and body. But he had no idea what

kind of story had been spread around by his generous cousins. So,

instead of pity he received mocking and accusing looks. Frodo

shuddered and hung his head. His heart was full of trouble and

misery. Silently he let himself be brought to Merry and Pippin's room.

***

Frodo didn't realize that some of the glances cast more than a

curious look. The woman who had brought him water looked on - her

heart breaking at the pitiful sight. Of course Frodo couldn't

recognize her because he had been unconscious at that time. But that

didn't matter to her. She didn't need his gratitude. She only wanted

Frodo to know that there was still someone who cared for him in this

world. To this end, she tried hard to attract Frodo's attention -

but to no avail. Frodo was so desperate and agonized by this point

that he paid no heed to his surroundings anymore. The woman uttered a

loud sigh when Frodo finally disappeared behind the door.

TBC