Chapter 11

Disappointment was not the woman's alone. The three men from Isengard

who had been trying to spot Frodo also felt the same way. They were

quite surprised to see the very person they'd been looking for

suddenly step out of nowhere. The impact was almost comical. The

leader, Ted, almost jumped up to hug --- er --- to grab Frodo.

Luckily, his two companions stopped him.

"Are you mad!" hissed one of them. "You want to declare to everybody

who we are and what we are doing?!" Ted sat back. He heaved loudly.

"Sorry. Just don't wanna lose him again," he muttered. "He did look

terrible, though, and weak! Can't see why Sharkey wants him so badly."

His two underlings looked at him in hesitation. "So, are we backing

away? Do you think it will be all right with our lord?"

Ted snapped harshly. "You fools! Who said anything about aborting the

mission? You want him to behead you, which is probably a better

plan?!"

They recoiled. Why was he so angry? Hadn't they only tried to give a

suggestion? But Ted was probably right saying that they were fools.

They hadn't even seen the mistake they had made.

"What should we do, then, boss? Just break into his room? The

halflings holding him are nothing for us. We can kill them if

necessary!"

"Why not?" growled Ted. "But I think we can make use of the woman.

Let's go get her!"

***

Merry wasn't in the room when Frodo and Pippin arrived. Frodo sensed

again that hollow feeling he had felt ever since he lost the ring. He

shook his head trying to will the sense away.

Exhausted, Frodo walked to the nearest chair, helped by Pippin. His

dark curls were soaked with sweat and his stomach was growling. Stars

started to blink in his eyes.

Pippin led him to the chair facing a table and sat him down gently, -

so gently it made Frodo wonder. Perhaps the ring's absence was the

answer to this new kindness. Or perhaps Pip wasn't affected yet.

As Frodo slumped like a pile of rags in his chair, his nose detected

a delicious smell. It came from the table. Forgetting his weary body,

Frodo shot a wide-eyed gaze toward the table. Food! Any and all kinds

of food dearly loved by hobbits: creamed mushrooms, pineapple buns,

applesauce! Frodo didn't wait for an offer. He clawed his two hands

reaching the nearest plates. A bun and a hand-scoop of applesauce and

he gobbled them down greedily in a single mouthful. Dear Elbereth,

they were so delicious! He almost forgot how they really tasted. How

he had been starved so far -- -

But that was a problem. His stomach had been empty for so long it

couldn't stand a sudden attack of food. The second all the food

reached the bottom of his belly, Frodo felt it force its way out his

throat again. He covered his mouth with his hand trying to hold back

the lump of food and ran out of the room.

Pippin was taken aback by what he saw and Frodo was too swift for him

to catch. All he could do was follow Frodo outside.

His cousin was not very far at all. Pippin spotted Frodo kneeling

down in a corner retching what little food that had been in his

stomach. It took a long time for him and that long time was torture.

His stomach reeled, his throat felt dry, and his lungs threatened to

burst. Frodo staggered back when he was done. Completely spent,

Frodo panted heavily, tears flowing freely down his haggard face.

"Now, now. What is going on here?" Frodo tensed to hear Merry's voice

behind him. "Cousin, is my sight not deceiving me? Have you just

thrown away the food you took without permission from my table?"

Frodo whimpered and slowly turned around. Fearfully, he looked up to

meet his cousin's eyes, expecting to see an angry glint in them.

Surprisingly, that wasn't what Frodo saw at all. Merry was, in fact,

staring down at him with deep regret. Frodo couldn't help holding his

breath. Had Merry also returned to be himself again?

"Come, Cousin." Merry offered his hand, which was gratefully accepted

by Frodo. "You mustn't be hasty. You know you haven't been eating for

days, yet you so carelessly and greedily ate all the food."

Frodo was shaking his head. He wanted to tell Merry that he hadn't

eaten that much, but his voice refused to come out. In the end, he

was just silent and let himself led again back to the room. Pippin

followed quietly.

In the room, Frodo was put back to his chair. He didn't do anything

as he watched Merry get him a plate and fill it with applesauce.

"Here, Frodo," cooed Merry. "You need to have the soft food first to

have your stomach got used to the others. Eat it all, Frodo. You must

be starving. This can help you to regain your strength."

Deep in his mind, Frodo felt that he was actually upset at what Merry

had said. Of course he was starving! And who was to blame for that?

But his mind seemed to be under a spell. And all that Frodo knew

was his unbounded gratitude towards Merry.

His cousin seemed to be very patient in facing Frodo. It was still

very difficult for Frodo to swallow even something as soft as

applesauce. Frodo's bright, blue eyes went wide when Merry took his

spoon and started to feed him. A lump that was not from the food

formed in his throat, blocking even further the way of the

applesauce. But Frodo didn't care. Merry's tender act astonished

Frodo so much that he really felt like crying.