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