Alisaundre: Oh! I might have put the next part in a new paragraph. Is that
what you mean? And, thanks for the congratulations! It's still counting!
endymion: LOL. I didn't mean to make them look dumb. But again, didn't the elves lose the war in Helm's Deep? (movie version) If there were no Eomer and his soldiers..
Krista: A major apocalypse and its re-construction will need 50 more chapters? :
Oddwen: Ugghh, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can read your comment. He.he.
Warning: AU, angst
________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 51
Frodo howled as a hand entangled in his hair and another circling around his arm pulled him up and away from the warg. For a moment he felt himself floating in the air and shrieked all the way down as the pain clutching his head was almost unbearable. It felt as if the scalp were being torn away. And when he finally hit the ground, he gasped loudly. Hundreds of pinpricks were like attacking both of his legs and feet. They had been hanging for so long that they went asleep and numb, and it hurt as the blood rushed back down.
Frodo bared his teeth at the uncomfortable sensation. "Please-" his voice was shaking.
Nobody came to help him ease the feeling, though. Instead, the grasps on his head and arms were released, leaving him sway for the lack of support and for his inability to stand steadily with his ankles tied up. And Frodo ungracefully limped forward and landed face down on the ground. He cried out as his nose kissed the earth, and shut his eyes tightly as pain spread all over his face. He felt warm, sticky liquid dripping from the nose.
"Merry---" he called frustratedly.
Frodo tried to raise his head but he found it hard to do with his hands still bound behind his back. The other hobbit bent down and patted Frodo's curls.
"Poor Frodo," Merry cooed.
He then motioned to two men to come and then each took one of Frodo's arms and dragged the weakened and bleeding hobbit to the front of the other captives. Merry followed close behind. Gandalf's heart broke to see the entire scene. What had they done to this gentle, dear hobbit of his? Why, of all people, did Merry want to hurt his own cousin? There was only one answer to this - he was under the influence of the Ring! Gandalf cleared his throat which suddenly felt very dry and parched.
"Frodo!" he called out. He felt silly asking the following, but he asked anyway.
"Is everything all right with you, dear boy?"
Frodo straightened up, ears standing, and he whipped his head to the left and right, trying to locate the person who had shouted at him despite the blindfold depriving him of sight. Still, Frodo knew precisely who it was. A lump suddenly filled his throat.
"G - gandalf?" he breathed faintly.
The wizard resumed the attempt to free himself against the strong hands holding him fast. Oh, he had just realized how he missed that voice so much, a voice now tainted with pain and agony.
"Yes, Frodo," he responded with a choked voice. "What - what is wrong here, little one? I'm so sorry, Frodo."
Ah! He had to try hard to keep himself from crying. Frodo felt his heart clench. He wanted to cry, too. But Gandalf's question triggered a memory in one part of his wrecked brain. All of a sudden his blood boiled with rage.
"Oh, you're lying, Gandalf!" Frodo exclaimed loudly. "You don't really mean what you're saying!"
The wizard was so taken aback he missed the smile that mysteriously appeared on Merry's face.
Go on, Merry thought evilly.
"Why do you say that, Frodo?" Gandalf frowned. "You look - ah, Elbereth! I can't say it. But I know it is my fault too."
"It is indeed! But don't, Gandalf. Don't say sorry if you don't mean it. You left me behind, wizard," Frodo said sarcastically. "- on purpose. You didn't care about me although you said yourself the road would be full of dangers! You abandoned me, Gandalf," Frodo's voice softened with anguish. "You - you didn't show up at the Prancing Pony, and you - let me suffer."
Frodo broke into an agonized cry. His head hung down and he was hanging completely in the hands of his captors. Gandalf felt a deep fear. No, he was not afraid for himself, but for Frodo. He never knew this Frodo. The one he knew, Bilbo's nephew, was always so lively, strong, and a bit mischievous. But this one, this thin and terribly pale hobbit, was beyond any hope. Someone had clearly broken him down until there was nothing left of him. No confidence, no faith, and no trust, even for his close friend. And Gandalf doubted if Frodo still had trust in himself. But he was wrong. Gandalf was wrong. There WAS someone Frodo thought he could count on - his own tormentor, Merry. It was a pity Gandalf did not know this crucial fact.
"I was delayed, Frodo," said Gandalf softly. "That was why I failed to meet you at the Pony."
Frodo lifted his face. "Don't," he strangled. "Don's say anything anymore. Please. Don't give me more lies as I know that they are all lies. I know - Gandalf. Merry told me."
"Merry? ---"
But Gandalf's question was cut short as Frodo suddenly screamed loudly as if he were in a great pain. His head was thrown to the back and his body started to convulse violently. Gandalf stared in shock, and the Elves, who had kept silent during the mind-shattering conversation earlier, strained hard to free themselves.
"Frodo? Frodo!" Gandalf cried out.
But the hobbit didn't respond. He was still shaking hard for several minutes longer, and then stopped abruptly. His body went slack; only his gasping breaths were heard. Gandalf called on him once more. But it seemed that Frodo had lost consciousness again.
***
"Strider!" Sam sounded strangely happy. "Look what I've found here!"
The man followed Sam's voice coming from behind some bushes, and he found him standing, grinning widely, in front of a busily-chewing-on-something pony. Strider frowned.
"It'll be perfect to carry Master Pippin, won't it, Strider?" chirped Sam.
The ranger was still not in a light mood like Sam. Worries still occupied his mind.
"He's not strong enough to come with us but we must go as soon as we can. But again, nobody wants to carry him, right?" accused Sam.
Reluctantly, Strider nodded. That was true. It was so difficult for him to make himself forgive Pippin. Apart of what the hobbit had done to him, it was even harder to justify Pippin's partaking in Frodo's ill treatment
"So!" exclaimed the hobbit in front of him. "This is such a good find."
Sam reached for the mane and led the pony out to where Pippin and Ted were waiting.
"Master Pippin! Come! Let me help you mount this pony. You'll like it. This way, you don't have to tire yourself out walking."
Pippin glimmered as he recognized the beast. But his eyes were also showing deep regret.
"You're unbelievable, Sam," he croaked. "I caused you so many troubles, remember? And - and I helped Merry torment Frodo ---"
"Young Master," cut Sam. "That wasn't a real you," he said seriously. "It's the Ring, right, from what Merry told me?"
"Merry told you?" Pippin's eyes widened.
"Well," said Sam hesitantly, flashes of him and Strider's beating Merry to get all the information they wanted coming back to him. "He didn't voluntarily tell us, of course."
Sam felt terrible for having done such a thing.
"Sam," Pippin touched him on the shoulder, bending a little from the pony's back. "I know what you mean. And there was nothing wrong with that, I assure you. You just worried about Frodo."
"Which," Sam turned around. "brings me back to my first question. Why did Merry leave you?"
Pippin turned away, his face flushing. "I--- He---" he stuttered.
But suddenly, facing Sam again, Pippin talked merrily, "Merry was once very kind to Frodo!"
Curious, Sam glinted at him. "What do you mean?"
Pippin took a relieved breath quietly. Finally, he could get Sam to something else. "I'm serious," continued Pippin. "Merry gave Frodo bread and soup. He was very patient with Frodo although at first he didn't want to eat anything."
Sam almost couldn't believe it. There was something in Pippin's voice that still showed some kind of adoration toward Merry. He shuddered at the thought.
"So? Did Frodo finally eat?" chased Sam. "He's always not always a good eater. What did Merry do to make him?"
"Nothing!" asserted Pippin. "He treated Frodo tenderly as if he were a baby. Oh! And he bathed him, too!"
"What?! The old Frodo wouldn't let ANYBODY to do that for him. How could that be?"
"I guess," Pippin said slowly. "Maybe because Frodo forgot that he usually never lets anybody to do that for him."
Without realizing it, envy started to flow back into Pippin. Sam was shocked to hear of Frodo forgetting such a basic thing as bathing habits.
"Forgot! Forgetting his own habit!" exclaimed Sam. "What is it, Pippin? Are you saying that Frodo doesn't remember anything right now?"
TBC
endymion: LOL. I didn't mean to make them look dumb. But again, didn't the elves lose the war in Helm's Deep? (movie version) If there were no Eomer and his soldiers..
Krista: A major apocalypse and its re-construction will need 50 more chapters? :
Oddwen: Ugghh, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can read your comment. He.he.
Warning: AU, angst
________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 51
Frodo howled as a hand entangled in his hair and another circling around his arm pulled him up and away from the warg. For a moment he felt himself floating in the air and shrieked all the way down as the pain clutching his head was almost unbearable. It felt as if the scalp were being torn away. And when he finally hit the ground, he gasped loudly. Hundreds of pinpricks were like attacking both of his legs and feet. They had been hanging for so long that they went asleep and numb, and it hurt as the blood rushed back down.
Frodo bared his teeth at the uncomfortable sensation. "Please-" his voice was shaking.
Nobody came to help him ease the feeling, though. Instead, the grasps on his head and arms were released, leaving him sway for the lack of support and for his inability to stand steadily with his ankles tied up. And Frodo ungracefully limped forward and landed face down on the ground. He cried out as his nose kissed the earth, and shut his eyes tightly as pain spread all over his face. He felt warm, sticky liquid dripping from the nose.
"Merry---" he called frustratedly.
Frodo tried to raise his head but he found it hard to do with his hands still bound behind his back. The other hobbit bent down and patted Frodo's curls.
"Poor Frodo," Merry cooed.
He then motioned to two men to come and then each took one of Frodo's arms and dragged the weakened and bleeding hobbit to the front of the other captives. Merry followed close behind. Gandalf's heart broke to see the entire scene. What had they done to this gentle, dear hobbit of his? Why, of all people, did Merry want to hurt his own cousin? There was only one answer to this - he was under the influence of the Ring! Gandalf cleared his throat which suddenly felt very dry and parched.
"Frodo!" he called out. He felt silly asking the following, but he asked anyway.
"Is everything all right with you, dear boy?"
Frodo straightened up, ears standing, and he whipped his head to the left and right, trying to locate the person who had shouted at him despite the blindfold depriving him of sight. Still, Frodo knew precisely who it was. A lump suddenly filled his throat.
"G - gandalf?" he breathed faintly.
The wizard resumed the attempt to free himself against the strong hands holding him fast. Oh, he had just realized how he missed that voice so much, a voice now tainted with pain and agony.
"Yes, Frodo," he responded with a choked voice. "What - what is wrong here, little one? I'm so sorry, Frodo."
Ah! He had to try hard to keep himself from crying. Frodo felt his heart clench. He wanted to cry, too. But Gandalf's question triggered a memory in one part of his wrecked brain. All of a sudden his blood boiled with rage.
"Oh, you're lying, Gandalf!" Frodo exclaimed loudly. "You don't really mean what you're saying!"
The wizard was so taken aback he missed the smile that mysteriously appeared on Merry's face.
Go on, Merry thought evilly.
"Why do you say that, Frodo?" Gandalf frowned. "You look - ah, Elbereth! I can't say it. But I know it is my fault too."
"It is indeed! But don't, Gandalf. Don't say sorry if you don't mean it. You left me behind, wizard," Frodo said sarcastically. "- on purpose. You didn't care about me although you said yourself the road would be full of dangers! You abandoned me, Gandalf," Frodo's voice softened with anguish. "You - you didn't show up at the Prancing Pony, and you - let me suffer."
Frodo broke into an agonized cry. His head hung down and he was hanging completely in the hands of his captors. Gandalf felt a deep fear. No, he was not afraid for himself, but for Frodo. He never knew this Frodo. The one he knew, Bilbo's nephew, was always so lively, strong, and a bit mischievous. But this one, this thin and terribly pale hobbit, was beyond any hope. Someone had clearly broken him down until there was nothing left of him. No confidence, no faith, and no trust, even for his close friend. And Gandalf doubted if Frodo still had trust in himself. But he was wrong. Gandalf was wrong. There WAS someone Frodo thought he could count on - his own tormentor, Merry. It was a pity Gandalf did not know this crucial fact.
"I was delayed, Frodo," said Gandalf softly. "That was why I failed to meet you at the Pony."
Frodo lifted his face. "Don't," he strangled. "Don's say anything anymore. Please. Don't give me more lies as I know that they are all lies. I know - Gandalf. Merry told me."
"Merry? ---"
But Gandalf's question was cut short as Frodo suddenly screamed loudly as if he were in a great pain. His head was thrown to the back and his body started to convulse violently. Gandalf stared in shock, and the Elves, who had kept silent during the mind-shattering conversation earlier, strained hard to free themselves.
"Frodo? Frodo!" Gandalf cried out.
But the hobbit didn't respond. He was still shaking hard for several minutes longer, and then stopped abruptly. His body went slack; only his gasping breaths were heard. Gandalf called on him once more. But it seemed that Frodo had lost consciousness again.
***
"Strider!" Sam sounded strangely happy. "Look what I've found here!"
The man followed Sam's voice coming from behind some bushes, and he found him standing, grinning widely, in front of a busily-chewing-on-something pony. Strider frowned.
"It'll be perfect to carry Master Pippin, won't it, Strider?" chirped Sam.
The ranger was still not in a light mood like Sam. Worries still occupied his mind.
"He's not strong enough to come with us but we must go as soon as we can. But again, nobody wants to carry him, right?" accused Sam.
Reluctantly, Strider nodded. That was true. It was so difficult for him to make himself forgive Pippin. Apart of what the hobbit had done to him, it was even harder to justify Pippin's partaking in Frodo's ill treatment
"So!" exclaimed the hobbit in front of him. "This is such a good find."
Sam reached for the mane and led the pony out to where Pippin and Ted were waiting.
"Master Pippin! Come! Let me help you mount this pony. You'll like it. This way, you don't have to tire yourself out walking."
Pippin glimmered as he recognized the beast. But his eyes were also showing deep regret.
"You're unbelievable, Sam," he croaked. "I caused you so many troubles, remember? And - and I helped Merry torment Frodo ---"
"Young Master," cut Sam. "That wasn't a real you," he said seriously. "It's the Ring, right, from what Merry told me?"
"Merry told you?" Pippin's eyes widened.
"Well," said Sam hesitantly, flashes of him and Strider's beating Merry to get all the information they wanted coming back to him. "He didn't voluntarily tell us, of course."
Sam felt terrible for having done such a thing.
"Sam," Pippin touched him on the shoulder, bending a little from the pony's back. "I know what you mean. And there was nothing wrong with that, I assure you. You just worried about Frodo."
"Which," Sam turned around. "brings me back to my first question. Why did Merry leave you?"
Pippin turned away, his face flushing. "I--- He---" he stuttered.
But suddenly, facing Sam again, Pippin talked merrily, "Merry was once very kind to Frodo!"
Curious, Sam glinted at him. "What do you mean?"
Pippin took a relieved breath quietly. Finally, he could get Sam to something else. "I'm serious," continued Pippin. "Merry gave Frodo bread and soup. He was very patient with Frodo although at first he didn't want to eat anything."
Sam almost couldn't believe it. There was something in Pippin's voice that still showed some kind of adoration toward Merry. He shuddered at the thought.
"So? Did Frodo finally eat?" chased Sam. "He's always not always a good eater. What did Merry do to make him?"
"Nothing!" asserted Pippin. "He treated Frodo tenderly as if he were a baby. Oh! And he bathed him, too!"
"What?! The old Frodo wouldn't let ANYBODY to do that for him. How could that be?"
"I guess," Pippin said slowly. "Maybe because Frodo forgot that he usually never lets anybody to do that for him."
Without realizing it, envy started to flow back into Pippin. Sam was shocked to hear of Frodo forgetting such a basic thing as bathing habits.
"Forgot! Forgetting his own habit!" exclaimed Sam. "What is it, Pippin? Are you saying that Frodo doesn't remember anything right now?"
TBC
