Chapter 19 - Separation Anxiety
Ted's threat worked successfully on Frodo. He ceased his struggle
and nervously glanced to the left and right, trying to find which
one was Phil. Phil wasn't hard to spot, as he almost never released
Frodo from his gaze.
Hearing what Ted had said to the sweet little creature, Phil sent
what he thought was his best smile. It looked more like a hungry
wolf's grin, unfortunately, making Frodo look away in fright.
Frustration washed over his face.
Unfortunately, that was not what Phil saw. He thought it was an
_expression of disgust. Feeling insulted, Phil jerked his reins,
striding his horse in Frodo's direction.
"Hey!" Phil shouted angrily. Frodo turned his head in horror.
What---?
"Why did you look at me that way, rat?!" You're disgusted with me,
huh?" growled the man.
Phil was now just inches away from Frodo, his eyes red from rage.
"Mmmhh!" Frodo mumbled behind the gag, shaking his head frantically.
Oh, no! Please! NO! NO!
As Phil's horse came face to face with Ted's, Phil shot out his hand
and yanked Frodo unceremoniously off his mount and slammed him down
hard. Frodo let out a gagged shriek. His eyes widened.
Frodo hit the ground with a thud. The fall dazed the hobbit. For a
moment he lost track of where he was. He looked up blearily.
Then slowly Frodo remembered his grim situation as he eyed the two
ruffians on horseback staring at him. Frodo struggled up, still
observing the men closely. They cruelly laughed at him as he winced
and whimpered. But no longer when Frodo suddenly snatched the gag
off his face.
"Stupid rascal!" shouted Phil, jumping off his horse. He suspected
Frodo's intention, which was completely true, to run away. Frodo
screamed, more to his disappointment, when Phil knocked him down on
his back.
"Aaarghh!" Frodo swung his tied hands trying to hit Phil. But the
man was faster. He caught them and with his other hand, he
backhanded Frodo terrifyingly hard. The hobbit could hear a crack
at his cheekbones. A tear escaped Frodo's eye involuntarily.
"Ohh, it hurts!" Frodo sobbed, clamping his fists on his
cheek. "Please--- " his voice quivered. He flinched when Phil raised
his hand as if he were going to hit him again.
"NO!" Frodo cried. "I'm not going to try to run again! I swear!"
Having spent so much time in captivity and been abused for so long
had completely broken his soul. He had lost his fighting spirit
altogether.
Frodo didn't say anything when Phil left him crumpled on the ground
and dragged his horse to the nearest bushes. Ted also dismounted
his horse, and walked the animal to the hiding place that Phil had
chosen. They were going to hide the beasts the best they could among
the foliage. The other ruffian followed them silently.
"We'll rest here until the dawn comes. We'll continue our journey to
Isengard the first thing in the morning."
These words were of no comfort to the captive hobbit.
***
Pippin never knew a musing Merry. Merry had always been a hobbit of
action: swimming, running, climbing trees, and wandering around
farmer Maggot's field. He wasn't the kind that would keep silent for
a long time doing nothing. Save that for Frodo.
"Eh, Merry," called Pippin from behind.
No reply. His cousin kept on walking as if he heard nothing.
"Merry!" Louder this time. Pippin clawed his hand on Merry's
shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"
"Shut up, Pippin!" Merry yelled, just waving without turning
around. He was clearly upset by Pippin disturbing the flow of his
thoughts.
Pippin went silent. He was a little annoyed by his cousin's
inattentiveness.
/Angry?/
Pippin jerked backward. Who said that?
/Don't be surprised. You know who I am./
The hobbit nodded unconsciously.
/It's about time you turn the table. You don't want to be ordered
around all the time, do you?/
Whoever said that, it was true. But Pippin was shaking all over. He
looked around anxiously. He caught the sight of Merry now way ahead
of him. Pippin recalled all the awful things they, Merry and he, had
done to their cousin, Frodo. Merry had been too cruel to Frodo; now
Pippin could see it clearly. And the twisted, evil Ring, the one who
owned the sound, agreed with him, encouraging him 'to do' something
about it.
"Merry!" Pippin shouted, his voice harsh now. Pippin ran toward his
cousin and - unexpectedly - and with unexpected strength, sent a
hard blow to the back of Merry's head. Merry stumbled forward and
fell.
***
Frodo couldn't believe his ears. Did the men really
mention 'Isengrad'? Wasn't that the place where Gandalf had gone?
Didn't Gandalf mention travelling to Isengard before --- Frodo's
stomach clenched --- before the wizard had left him? He remembered
again what his cousin, Merry, had said about how people always left
him behind. All----except dear Merry. Thoughts of Merry flooded
his mind. Oh-how he needed his Merry! He wanted to scream Merry's
name from the treetops, but in his weakened state, all he managed
was a soft whimper--
"Merry, please help me."
Merry. Merry. Merry. It had been such a peaceful time for Frodo
before the ruffians came. Merry had untied his bonds, dressed him
with care, kissed his hurts away, and wrapped him in a warm
blanket. Frodo recalled the feel of Merry's warm, comforting hand
grapped between his own -the wave of peace that washed over his
soul Merry's smile of ..approval. Then, suddenly, the three
ruffians broke down the door and tore him away. Frodo so regretted
he had not seen the beauty of his Merry much sooner. Merry who was
only there to help him. Merry -who, very reluctantly, had been
forced to bind him and hurt him. Why had he not been obedient from
the start? And now Merry was nowhere in sight. It hurt-this
separation. If not for these cruel people, Frodo would still be in
that warm room in bosom of his true family, his cousins.
Frodo curled into a small ball on the ground, protecting his wounded
stomach. Frodo's stomach was healing now; the tear in his soul was
not. The night was getting darker. He didn't think about running
away anymore - the trees looked more frightening in the dark, like
giant, shady creatures that were ready to swallow him whole. Slowly
he fell into slumber in the coldness of the night.
***
Three pairs of eyes were set on any movement Frodo made. Ted could
see that the little hobbit was still in pain from the stabbing. He
also noticed that Frodo's whole body had become a canvas for cuts
and bruises of all sorts. The other hobbits must have tortured
him. But to what purpose? Nor did Ted have any idea why Saruman
wanted them to bring him a Shire halfling. Was it connected to the
reason why this little one had been captured and tormented by the
other two hobbits?
While these thoughts of confusing and pity sifted through Ted's
brain, Phil's thought were taking a darker turn. Phil still
couldn't take his eyes off the diminutive creature. He had never
seen anyone so adorable in his tormented form. All of the little
one's features were just perfect; his ashen face, dazzling blue
eyes - amazing to behold even - perhaps especially, when they were
filled with terror.
"Ted," Phil demanded softly. "Let me cuddle that pretty thing. He
looks cold."
"No!" snapped Ted. "I know what you have in mind. It is far from
mere 'cuddling' that your after. Remember, the halfling must come
unspoiled. The stab wound makes me worried enough. What do you think
Saruman will say about what you have in mind?!"
"Oh, come on. Look, his soft cheeks are waiting to be caressed and,
hmm, I bet his smooth lips taste delicious!" Phil's eyes glittered.
"Phil! That's enough!" ordered Ted. "Go and don't come back until
your dirty mind cleanses itself!"
Ted shoved his companion hard toward the forest. Phil bucked and
turned around sharply to Frodo's direction.
"Hey!" Phil yelled angrily. "Who are you to tell me what to do?
Saruman won't find out, not if you don't say anything!"
He ignored Ted completely and strode away. Phil approached Frodo's
sleeping form, totally unaware of the threatening danger.
TBC
Ted's threat worked successfully on Frodo. He ceased his struggle
and nervously glanced to the left and right, trying to find which
one was Phil. Phil wasn't hard to spot, as he almost never released
Frodo from his gaze.
Hearing what Ted had said to the sweet little creature, Phil sent
what he thought was his best smile. It looked more like a hungry
wolf's grin, unfortunately, making Frodo look away in fright.
Frustration washed over his face.
Unfortunately, that was not what Phil saw. He thought it was an
_expression of disgust. Feeling insulted, Phil jerked his reins,
striding his horse in Frodo's direction.
"Hey!" Phil shouted angrily. Frodo turned his head in horror.
What---?
"Why did you look at me that way, rat?!" You're disgusted with me,
huh?" growled the man.
Phil was now just inches away from Frodo, his eyes red from rage.
"Mmmhh!" Frodo mumbled behind the gag, shaking his head frantically.
Oh, no! Please! NO! NO!
As Phil's horse came face to face with Ted's, Phil shot out his hand
and yanked Frodo unceremoniously off his mount and slammed him down
hard. Frodo let out a gagged shriek. His eyes widened.
Frodo hit the ground with a thud. The fall dazed the hobbit. For a
moment he lost track of where he was. He looked up blearily.
Then slowly Frodo remembered his grim situation as he eyed the two
ruffians on horseback staring at him. Frodo struggled up, still
observing the men closely. They cruelly laughed at him as he winced
and whimpered. But no longer when Frodo suddenly snatched the gag
off his face.
"Stupid rascal!" shouted Phil, jumping off his horse. He suspected
Frodo's intention, which was completely true, to run away. Frodo
screamed, more to his disappointment, when Phil knocked him down on
his back.
"Aaarghh!" Frodo swung his tied hands trying to hit Phil. But the
man was faster. He caught them and with his other hand, he
backhanded Frodo terrifyingly hard. The hobbit could hear a crack
at his cheekbones. A tear escaped Frodo's eye involuntarily.
"Ohh, it hurts!" Frodo sobbed, clamping his fists on his
cheek. "Please--- " his voice quivered. He flinched when Phil raised
his hand as if he were going to hit him again.
"NO!" Frodo cried. "I'm not going to try to run again! I swear!"
Having spent so much time in captivity and been abused for so long
had completely broken his soul. He had lost his fighting spirit
altogether.
Frodo didn't say anything when Phil left him crumpled on the ground
and dragged his horse to the nearest bushes. Ted also dismounted
his horse, and walked the animal to the hiding place that Phil had
chosen. They were going to hide the beasts the best they could among
the foliage. The other ruffian followed them silently.
"We'll rest here until the dawn comes. We'll continue our journey to
Isengard the first thing in the morning."
These words were of no comfort to the captive hobbit.
***
Pippin never knew a musing Merry. Merry had always been a hobbit of
action: swimming, running, climbing trees, and wandering around
farmer Maggot's field. He wasn't the kind that would keep silent for
a long time doing nothing. Save that for Frodo.
"Eh, Merry," called Pippin from behind.
No reply. His cousin kept on walking as if he heard nothing.
"Merry!" Louder this time. Pippin clawed his hand on Merry's
shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"
"Shut up, Pippin!" Merry yelled, just waving without turning
around. He was clearly upset by Pippin disturbing the flow of his
thoughts.
Pippin went silent. He was a little annoyed by his cousin's
inattentiveness.
/Angry?/
Pippin jerked backward. Who said that?
/Don't be surprised. You know who I am./
The hobbit nodded unconsciously.
/It's about time you turn the table. You don't want to be ordered
around all the time, do you?/
Whoever said that, it was true. But Pippin was shaking all over. He
looked around anxiously. He caught the sight of Merry now way ahead
of him. Pippin recalled all the awful things they, Merry and he, had
done to their cousin, Frodo. Merry had been too cruel to Frodo; now
Pippin could see it clearly. And the twisted, evil Ring, the one who
owned the sound, agreed with him, encouraging him 'to do' something
about it.
"Merry!" Pippin shouted, his voice harsh now. Pippin ran toward his
cousin and - unexpectedly - and with unexpected strength, sent a
hard blow to the back of Merry's head. Merry stumbled forward and
fell.
***
Frodo couldn't believe his ears. Did the men really
mention 'Isengrad'? Wasn't that the place where Gandalf had gone?
Didn't Gandalf mention travelling to Isengard before --- Frodo's
stomach clenched --- before the wizard had left him? He remembered
again what his cousin, Merry, had said about how people always left
him behind. All----except dear Merry. Thoughts of Merry flooded
his mind. Oh-how he needed his Merry! He wanted to scream Merry's
name from the treetops, but in his weakened state, all he managed
was a soft whimper--
"Merry, please help me."
Merry. Merry. Merry. It had been such a peaceful time for Frodo
before the ruffians came. Merry had untied his bonds, dressed him
with care, kissed his hurts away, and wrapped him in a warm
blanket. Frodo recalled the feel of Merry's warm, comforting hand
grapped between his own -the wave of peace that washed over his
soul Merry's smile of ..approval. Then, suddenly, the three
ruffians broke down the door and tore him away. Frodo so regretted
he had not seen the beauty of his Merry much sooner. Merry who was
only there to help him. Merry -who, very reluctantly, had been
forced to bind him and hurt him. Why had he not been obedient from
the start? And now Merry was nowhere in sight. It hurt-this
separation. If not for these cruel people, Frodo would still be in
that warm room in bosom of his true family, his cousins.
Frodo curled into a small ball on the ground, protecting his wounded
stomach. Frodo's stomach was healing now; the tear in his soul was
not. The night was getting darker. He didn't think about running
away anymore - the trees looked more frightening in the dark, like
giant, shady creatures that were ready to swallow him whole. Slowly
he fell into slumber in the coldness of the night.
***
Three pairs of eyes were set on any movement Frodo made. Ted could
see that the little hobbit was still in pain from the stabbing. He
also noticed that Frodo's whole body had become a canvas for cuts
and bruises of all sorts. The other hobbits must have tortured
him. But to what purpose? Nor did Ted have any idea why Saruman
wanted them to bring him a Shire halfling. Was it connected to the
reason why this little one had been captured and tormented by the
other two hobbits?
While these thoughts of confusing and pity sifted through Ted's
brain, Phil's thought were taking a darker turn. Phil still
couldn't take his eyes off the diminutive creature. He had never
seen anyone so adorable in his tormented form. All of the little
one's features were just perfect; his ashen face, dazzling blue
eyes - amazing to behold even - perhaps especially, when they were
filled with terror.
"Ted," Phil demanded softly. "Let me cuddle that pretty thing. He
looks cold."
"No!" snapped Ted. "I know what you have in mind. It is far from
mere 'cuddling' that your after. Remember, the halfling must come
unspoiled. The stab wound makes me worried enough. What do you think
Saruman will say about what you have in mind?!"
"Oh, come on. Look, his soft cheeks are waiting to be caressed and,
hmm, I bet his smooth lips taste delicious!" Phil's eyes glittered.
"Phil! That's enough!" ordered Ted. "Go and don't come back until
your dirty mind cleanses itself!"
Ted shoved his companion hard toward the forest. Phil bucked and
turned around sharply to Frodo's direction.
"Hey!" Phil yelled angrily. "Who are you to tell me what to do?
Saruman won't find out, not if you don't say anything!"
He ignored Ted completely and strode away. Phil approached Frodo's
sleeping form, totally unaware of the threatening danger.
TBC
