AN: Hi, I'm back! Thanks a lot for your wonderful reviews! And for those
who read without reviewing, I hope you enjoy the story too! Sorry I haven't
had the chance to reply each of you. I promise I will give my replies in
the next chapter. Meanwhile, enjoy!!!!!
Chapter 47
Warning: AU
It was not the rumbling noise of the leaving warg pack or Merry's loud shout that had awakened Pippin. It was, rather, the creepy silence in the woods that was only filled with wind blowing high on the trees and splashing sound of the river water. No more. No human's talking or animals' grunt or, the one he got used to, Frodo's whimpers.
Pippin shivered at the fact hat he was totally alone there, all over his body screaming with pain from aches and burns. He had been lying flat on his stomach with his head turning to the right. Something thick and wet was trailing down his lips and Pippin half remembered he had spat blood during Merry's ill treatment toward him.
Merry.
The name echoed in his mind and sent more shivers down his spine. Merry had been so harsh and unexpected when delivering kicks and blows to him. And for what? Pippin moved, sat up, and embraced his folded legs to his body. He was weeping silently when the answer to his question came and hit him painfully in his heart. For - for trying to murder Frodo, drowning his own cousin into the river!
"Mama," he cried softly.
What had got into his mind, and Merry's as well? Everything was suddenly rushing back into his memory. This all started what seemed like years ago when Merry had turned into a ruthless person toward Frodo. And he had not been alone since he, Pippin, had helped him so willingly. Pippin was not sure why. Merry was indeed an older cousin he respected a lot. He was also the closest person and some kind of a mentor to him. Pippin was close to Frodo but not that close since they'd never spent so much time together.
But that didn't explain why Pippin needed to take part in all the madness. Madness! Yes, the word fit perfectly. He and Merry must have been disgustingly mad. They even tormented Frodo to the point when Frodo finally broke and nearly went crazy. He even lost part of his memory now!
Pippin clamped his hands over his face, trying to muffle his own scream. This was all too scary! He was crying still although soon he became too exhausted and what was left were his hitching breaths. His mind didn't want to stop its bombardment with old memories, though, as it reminded Pippin now how he had hit Sam hard until they all though the hobbit was dead, and he repeated it by hitting the ranger!
Oh. OH!! He couldn't stand it anymore. There was practically nothing he could do to pay for all his wrongdoings. He even couldn't think of any punishments that were worth for him. He didn't deserve to live, that was for sure!
Never had the hobbit felt so wretched and miserable. He desperately wanted to be back in his smial, safe in his mother's cuddle, and wished that all of these had never happened. But dear Peregrin Took, a voice in a small corner of his mind reminded, this all REALLY happened.
Pippin let himself slide down the forest bed, still curling up. Ah, if only he could just disappear to the earth and never had to face to talk to anyone about what he had done---
Deep in his own misery, Pippin barely caught the sounds of bristling leaves and broken twigs. Someone was coming! And he was a second too late when his eyes snapped open and quickly got away, trying to find a hiding place.
"Hey, wait!" The call only encouraged him more to run.
***
Suddenly, everything turned to a slow motion before Frodo's eyes. The fall of the elves, the coming of more elves on horses, the wild cries of the orcs upon their wargs while welcoming those elves, and himself turning to the left and right trying to get free.
His breaths had become ragged ones now, panic being all over his heart and soul. Merry! Where was his cousin now? He had to tell him to tell the men and orcs to cease their action that looked more like elf hunting to him. They couldn't do this! This was all wrong. Elves were fair and just creatures. They were all beings of the light. If the men and orcs attacked them, it would mean that those men and orcs were the bad people for it was impossible to be otherwise.
Frodo squeezed his eyes shut. Bilbo had always told him stories about elves that had encouraged him to learn their tongue, and made him eager to practice it someday when he met one.
Who?
His lids fluttered open.
Bilbo? Yes. His uncle? Exactly!
Frodo didn't know if he was supposed to greet the return of his memory or sadly, as he now felt even sadder and more threatened by being in the clutches of the elves' opponents' hands.
Except, perhaps for having Merry around. His cousin might still be able to stop all of this craziness - if only he could find him.
But what he saw the next minute totally baffled him over. Although he couldn't hear what his cousin was saying at this too great the distance, he could clearly see how Merry COMMANDED the orcs and men to go on. Merry was so engrossed in his new toy - playing a troop leader - shouting commands here and there and pointing at what directions his subordinates had to go that he failed to notice the shock and fear and disappointment in Frodo's darking blue eyes.
Frodo then decide to resume his attempt to escape. Good for him, the man behind him was too busy in his maneuvering his warg to even take hold of Frodo. Frodo could almost tell that the man even found him a bother this time.
All of a sudden something was flying over Frodo's head and he ducked to avoid being hit by it. But the man behind him was not that lucky. The thing that turned to be a dagger knocked the man out as it pounded hard on his skull and landed on the saddle in a void between Frodo and the man.
The man staggered and fell off instantly of the warg, quite painfully as it still ran fast before it finally stopped. Frodo froze for a moment before he realized what had happened and that this was a chance he had been waiting for. He had to move quickly. The knife had just hit the man, not killing him. He could come to anytime and ruin everything. So Frodo turned around to get the knife and started working on the rope around his waist. He exhaled in relief when he finally could cut it loose. You could always count on the elves to make the best quality of knives.
Then he jumped down, feeling a little dazed as his feet hit the ground. For a moment he felt confused and doubtful of which way to go as there was still a commotion that he was facing. Horses were still crisscrossing with wargs, arrows were flying to and from every direction, and swords were battling each other. Frodo ran, ducked, and jumped over dead bodies here and there, going to anywhere but to where the elves had come from. He was sure that they were from Rivendell and even though he didn't really want to meet Bilbo, in his heart he knew he could find solace there. Merry wouldn't mind. He would go there anyway.
"Help! Help!" he screamed, in elfish, as loudly as his small voice could be. But so far nobody heeded his cry.
- but Merry. Having known Frodo longer than all these men and the others, he could easily recognize the pathetic little voice of his cousin. Looking around, he finally spotted Frodo far ahead - too far to be true. Merry frowned. When did he escape?
"Get him!" Merry wailed, overcoming all the noises, overwhelming everyone who heard it, including Frodo, who suddenly felt his heart beat faster. Why did Merry sound so furious? He was curious, yet he didn't stop. He kept running toward Rivendell, or so he assumed. Oh, why did no single elf pay attention to him!?
"Take him!" Merry was still shouting. "The hobbit! Don't let him escape!"
Frodo felt as if his lungs were ready to explode. And his legs! He didn't know since when his legs had become this sluggish. He could only try his best to flee.
Distracted by Merry's impossibly loud voice, everyone went still. There were some movements, though. And they came from several orcs who were now heading straight to Frodo. Without any difficulty, they successfully blocked Frodo's path and halted in front and around the trembling little hobbit.
Heaving frustratedly, Frodo stepped back, only to bump to someone. He looked up and quickly felt faint. It was the man that had held him captive earlier. The leader.
Merry rode closer and got down. The orcs gave way to him. He walked to Frodo, making the hobbit feel so helpless to be cornered like that. To make it worse, he felt the man suddenly grab his arms and twist them behind his back. It was painful but Frodo, for once, didn't whimper or moan.
"Mer--"
"Silence!" snapped Merry harshly. "Frodo, you have disappointed me."
Frodo tested the man's grasp. Great. He couldn't move at all. Plus Merry had just told him about being disappointed. This was not a good sign. Frodo remembered every time Merry expressed his disappointment toward him, he would end up experiencing something completely uncomfortable, if not hurtful.
"Whatever was in your mind, Frodo?" asked Merry coldly. "Why did you do that?"
Frodo gulped hard. How was he supposed to answer this? Would his cousin tolerate an honest answer? But Frodo tried on.
"These men are killing the elves. I - I don't understand. Bilbo told me a lot about them. They are just and good-hearted creatures."
Merry tried to hide away his surprise to see that veils had been lifted up from Frodo's mind. So, our beautiful nephew of Bilbo had regained his memory, huh? Despite everything that had been spoken by the lovely yet wrecked hobbit, a wicked smile was formed on Merry's lips. He felt a sudden excitement dashing into his mind and body.
TBC
Chapter 47
Warning: AU
It was not the rumbling noise of the leaving warg pack or Merry's loud shout that had awakened Pippin. It was, rather, the creepy silence in the woods that was only filled with wind blowing high on the trees and splashing sound of the river water. No more. No human's talking or animals' grunt or, the one he got used to, Frodo's whimpers.
Pippin shivered at the fact hat he was totally alone there, all over his body screaming with pain from aches and burns. He had been lying flat on his stomach with his head turning to the right. Something thick and wet was trailing down his lips and Pippin half remembered he had spat blood during Merry's ill treatment toward him.
Merry.
The name echoed in his mind and sent more shivers down his spine. Merry had been so harsh and unexpected when delivering kicks and blows to him. And for what? Pippin moved, sat up, and embraced his folded legs to his body. He was weeping silently when the answer to his question came and hit him painfully in his heart. For - for trying to murder Frodo, drowning his own cousin into the river!
"Mama," he cried softly.
What had got into his mind, and Merry's as well? Everything was suddenly rushing back into his memory. This all started what seemed like years ago when Merry had turned into a ruthless person toward Frodo. And he had not been alone since he, Pippin, had helped him so willingly. Pippin was not sure why. Merry was indeed an older cousin he respected a lot. He was also the closest person and some kind of a mentor to him. Pippin was close to Frodo but not that close since they'd never spent so much time together.
But that didn't explain why Pippin needed to take part in all the madness. Madness! Yes, the word fit perfectly. He and Merry must have been disgustingly mad. They even tormented Frodo to the point when Frodo finally broke and nearly went crazy. He even lost part of his memory now!
Pippin clamped his hands over his face, trying to muffle his own scream. This was all too scary! He was crying still although soon he became too exhausted and what was left were his hitching breaths. His mind didn't want to stop its bombardment with old memories, though, as it reminded Pippin now how he had hit Sam hard until they all though the hobbit was dead, and he repeated it by hitting the ranger!
Oh. OH!! He couldn't stand it anymore. There was practically nothing he could do to pay for all his wrongdoings. He even couldn't think of any punishments that were worth for him. He didn't deserve to live, that was for sure!
Never had the hobbit felt so wretched and miserable. He desperately wanted to be back in his smial, safe in his mother's cuddle, and wished that all of these had never happened. But dear Peregrin Took, a voice in a small corner of his mind reminded, this all REALLY happened.
Pippin let himself slide down the forest bed, still curling up. Ah, if only he could just disappear to the earth and never had to face to talk to anyone about what he had done---
Deep in his own misery, Pippin barely caught the sounds of bristling leaves and broken twigs. Someone was coming! And he was a second too late when his eyes snapped open and quickly got away, trying to find a hiding place.
"Hey, wait!" The call only encouraged him more to run.
***
Suddenly, everything turned to a slow motion before Frodo's eyes. The fall of the elves, the coming of more elves on horses, the wild cries of the orcs upon their wargs while welcoming those elves, and himself turning to the left and right trying to get free.
His breaths had become ragged ones now, panic being all over his heart and soul. Merry! Where was his cousin now? He had to tell him to tell the men and orcs to cease their action that looked more like elf hunting to him. They couldn't do this! This was all wrong. Elves were fair and just creatures. They were all beings of the light. If the men and orcs attacked them, it would mean that those men and orcs were the bad people for it was impossible to be otherwise.
Frodo squeezed his eyes shut. Bilbo had always told him stories about elves that had encouraged him to learn their tongue, and made him eager to practice it someday when he met one.
Who?
His lids fluttered open.
Bilbo? Yes. His uncle? Exactly!
Frodo didn't know if he was supposed to greet the return of his memory or sadly, as he now felt even sadder and more threatened by being in the clutches of the elves' opponents' hands.
Except, perhaps for having Merry around. His cousin might still be able to stop all of this craziness - if only he could find him.
But what he saw the next minute totally baffled him over. Although he couldn't hear what his cousin was saying at this too great the distance, he could clearly see how Merry COMMANDED the orcs and men to go on. Merry was so engrossed in his new toy - playing a troop leader - shouting commands here and there and pointing at what directions his subordinates had to go that he failed to notice the shock and fear and disappointment in Frodo's darking blue eyes.
Frodo then decide to resume his attempt to escape. Good for him, the man behind him was too busy in his maneuvering his warg to even take hold of Frodo. Frodo could almost tell that the man even found him a bother this time.
All of a sudden something was flying over Frodo's head and he ducked to avoid being hit by it. But the man behind him was not that lucky. The thing that turned to be a dagger knocked the man out as it pounded hard on his skull and landed on the saddle in a void between Frodo and the man.
The man staggered and fell off instantly of the warg, quite painfully as it still ran fast before it finally stopped. Frodo froze for a moment before he realized what had happened and that this was a chance he had been waiting for. He had to move quickly. The knife had just hit the man, not killing him. He could come to anytime and ruin everything. So Frodo turned around to get the knife and started working on the rope around his waist. He exhaled in relief when he finally could cut it loose. You could always count on the elves to make the best quality of knives.
Then he jumped down, feeling a little dazed as his feet hit the ground. For a moment he felt confused and doubtful of which way to go as there was still a commotion that he was facing. Horses were still crisscrossing with wargs, arrows were flying to and from every direction, and swords were battling each other. Frodo ran, ducked, and jumped over dead bodies here and there, going to anywhere but to where the elves had come from. He was sure that they were from Rivendell and even though he didn't really want to meet Bilbo, in his heart he knew he could find solace there. Merry wouldn't mind. He would go there anyway.
"Help! Help!" he screamed, in elfish, as loudly as his small voice could be. But so far nobody heeded his cry.
- but Merry. Having known Frodo longer than all these men and the others, he could easily recognize the pathetic little voice of his cousin. Looking around, he finally spotted Frodo far ahead - too far to be true. Merry frowned. When did he escape?
"Get him!" Merry wailed, overcoming all the noises, overwhelming everyone who heard it, including Frodo, who suddenly felt his heart beat faster. Why did Merry sound so furious? He was curious, yet he didn't stop. He kept running toward Rivendell, or so he assumed. Oh, why did no single elf pay attention to him!?
"Take him!" Merry was still shouting. "The hobbit! Don't let him escape!"
Frodo felt as if his lungs were ready to explode. And his legs! He didn't know since when his legs had become this sluggish. He could only try his best to flee.
Distracted by Merry's impossibly loud voice, everyone went still. There were some movements, though. And they came from several orcs who were now heading straight to Frodo. Without any difficulty, they successfully blocked Frodo's path and halted in front and around the trembling little hobbit.
Heaving frustratedly, Frodo stepped back, only to bump to someone. He looked up and quickly felt faint. It was the man that had held him captive earlier. The leader.
Merry rode closer and got down. The orcs gave way to him. He walked to Frodo, making the hobbit feel so helpless to be cornered like that. To make it worse, he felt the man suddenly grab his arms and twist them behind his back. It was painful but Frodo, for once, didn't whimper or moan.
"Mer--"
"Silence!" snapped Merry harshly. "Frodo, you have disappointed me."
Frodo tested the man's grasp. Great. He couldn't move at all. Plus Merry had just told him about being disappointed. This was not a good sign. Frodo remembered every time Merry expressed his disappointment toward him, he would end up experiencing something completely uncomfortable, if not hurtful.
"Whatever was in your mind, Frodo?" asked Merry coldly. "Why did you do that?"
Frodo gulped hard. How was he supposed to answer this? Would his cousin tolerate an honest answer? But Frodo tried on.
"These men are killing the elves. I - I don't understand. Bilbo told me a lot about them. They are just and good-hearted creatures."
Merry tried to hide away his surprise to see that veils had been lifted up from Frodo's mind. So, our beautiful nephew of Bilbo had regained his memory, huh? Despite everything that had been spoken by the lovely yet wrecked hobbit, a wicked smile was formed on Merry's lips. He felt a sudden excitement dashing into his mind and body.
TBC
