Oddwen: You don't have to worry. Frodo is much too precious to be treated as such.

Aelfgifu: Frodo will miss Merry much in the next chapters. :)

Mbradford: Blame it to Prof. Tolkien and Peter Jackson. He.. he..

Endymion: No need to sorry, love. Yeah, I think I need YOU for the therapy.

Krista: Mmm, the confusing plot must come from the confused mind of me. :

AN: As you readers might have noticed, starting Chap 52 (if I'm not mistaken) I asked my beloved beta, Emma, to read the story first before posting the chapters. So, if you see any improvement at all, that's the work of her as well. (Emma, you rock!)

Chapter 57

Warning: AU, angst

"To do anything?" Gandalf mumbled, feeling eyes observing him closely in alarm; the eyes of the elves.

"Yes. You will. For me," sneered Merry.

Gandalf stared at him closely as if trying to put the hobbit under his spell. "Then what? You will release Frodo into my keeping?"

Merry did not budge. In fact, his smirk grew wider as both corners of his lips stretched to their maximum. "Why should I do that, Gandalf? I don't have to, do I? I have the most power here. It is you who should worry about what will happen to dear Frodo should you fail to comply with my orders."

Gandalf tried not to shudder at the subtle threat. Calming himself down, the wizard proposed another treaty.

"Why, at least, let me stay close to him while I'm doing whatever you ask of me. I want to make sure you keep your word."

Merry seemed to be thinking the plea over. He briefly and slowly swept the barn with his squinting eyes. "I'll tell you what--" Merry glanced around again. "-never! I will never bow down to what you say. This is my game, with my rules. And one more thing - the key to all of this - I have Frodo, and I will see at what point you finally decide to sacrifice him!"

Neither Gandalf nor the elves now could hide their amazement at how evilness had taken over Merry entirely. There seemed to be no gaps in his soul left for the bigger folks to get into and help him get back to normal.

Merry's right hand reached to his back and - Gandalf flinched involuntarily, fearing it would bring back an intimidating object. Merry chuckled a little at this. It was nothing of the sort. His hand hoisted high a kind of scroll, eliciting gasps among the tied figures when the parchment unscrolled. It was a map. And as Elrond came back to his senses, he remembered that it was his map. Merry laughed again.

"I should thank Gandalf for showing me around your incredible house, Lord Elrond," Merry chatted gleefully in a mocking tone. "And when we were strolling around your study, I came across this," he wagged about the thin vellum of the map. "And I decided to take it. I thought it would come in handy later on." Merry's eyes wandered vibrantly from Elrond to Gandalf, and back again to the elf.

With his other hand, Merry reached out at the stick holding the other end of the parchment, and lowered the map down to the hay-covered ground. He rolled out the scroll so that it revealed both Rivendell and the east side of Middle Earth. Gandalf strained to see which location Merry was pointing at. The hobbit himself seemed to be immersed in deep thought.

"This is too far," Merry mumbled to himself. "But this is definitely a great place to conquer. Or, well, it might help to have this small piece first."

Gandalf raised one of his eyebrows. Merry's forefinger was nudging at an area named 'Mirkwood'. It was located at the east of Rivendell, easy to reach by the Old Forest Road. The wizard inhaled sharply. Merry could not plan to attack that piece of land! He must not! Mirkwood had always been Rivendell's closest ally. Merry was correct when he mentioned the place he had pointed out at the map earlier (Lorien) was too far. Mirkwood was much closer than Lorien to Rivendell.

"Gandalf," Merry tilted his face up, querying, "who lives in M - mirkwood?" He had to glance back at the map to pronounce the place's name correctly.

"Gandalf?!" Merry asked again more sharply, when there was no answer from the grey man. Merry heaved in false frustration.

"Such an easy question, old man. Must you always make it difficult for us? Do I have to show you the consequence this early stage? Frodo knows what becomes of him if he is disobedient. Do you seriously want to know what becomes of Him if YOU are unruly, too?"

Refusing to be intimidated, Gandalf snorted. "You may hold the Ring of power now, Brandybuck, but you are -" he blew air off his nose. "How old are you now? Thirty? Thirty Five? You can't threaten a wizard who had seen thousands of winters with those empty, bubbling words, //lad//!"

Merry paled. Vaguely he heard chuckles from the elves' direction. His hand involuntarily flew to his breast pocket, fondling the Ring through the fabric as if attempting to draw strength from it. Slowly he withdrew and paced out completely. Gandalf barely had a chance to catch his breath before Merry had come back, flanked by four big brutes.

"Bring these two and leave the others!" Merry ordered shortly and said no more, just stomping out again.

With question marks on their faces, Gandalf and Elrond let themselves pulled up and dragged out, back to the light-bathed surroundings once more. If their guess was correct, they would soon meet Frodo again. And that was the only thing Gandalf wanted right now. So he just kept silent, not wanting to prevent this meeting from occurring.

Gandalf kept his eyes fixed on Merry who strutted ahead of them with his short, fast strides, heading exactly to where the wizard had predicted, Elrond's house.

Merry led Gandalf, Elrond, and the men through the big door in the front, and they were welcomed by a guard who stooped a little as the hobbit, standing on his toes, asked something in a low voice. The man hissed his answer in Merry's ear. Nodding his understanding, Merry turned to the men grasping Gandalf and Elrond in their arms.

"Follow me!"

And on Gandalf and the elf-lord went, lurching forward in their captors' hands, trying to follow their long steps to go through the winding corridors in the House of Healing. The elf cursed silently at the huge size of it. It came to him that he himself had seldom wandered around this far---

--- until they finally reached a room with a door no different than any other doors they had passed by. It was crafted from dark, mahogany wood that led to a room Elrond felt sure was as big as any other room in the homely house. Merry reached at the door knob but it was locked, something Merry found to be questionable and annoying; that in addition to the fact that nobody was guarding the room.

"Open the door!" demanded Merry in a voice bigger than that of a normal hobbit.

Merry banged at it with both of his fists. Once, twice, and finally the lock clicked and the door flrw ajar. Merry's eyes gleamed delightedly. He did not know than an unexpected sight would greet his eyes. Merry turned to his prisoners.

"Now you have the chance to see what happens when you are disobedient! Come! I'll show you." He turned around again and swaggered arrogantly into the chamber, his shoulders lifted proudly - only to slump back down again. His eyes bulging out in disbelief, Merry ran across the room.

"Frodo! What have they done to you?!" His trembling voice was full of both deep anguish and profound fury.

~ Flashback ~

The first thing Frodo became aware once he came to was the lack of pressure on several places of his body: neck, arms, and hands. Slowly Frodo opened his eyes, and although he was directly welcomed with throbbing pains in the right side of his face, his heart screamed in joy. He was no longer bound! The leash was gone. His wrists and ankles were no longer restrained. And Frodo was lying comfortably on his back in the big, four-poster bed. Now that he was up he felt a cold wind breezing upon his uncovered, exposed chest. Instinctively Frodo tugged at his torn shirt and wrapped his arms around himself, curling up to warm his chilling body.

It took some time for Frodo to wake his mind up and remind himself that this was the opportunity he was waiting for. 'No, please. Let me just relax for a while,' the other part of his mind pleaded. And Frodo unwrapped his arms to cuddle up on the velvety pillow that rested under his head. 'Mmm,' he mumbled in the comfort he had just discovered, eyelids drooping down.

'Frodo, you cannot do this!' A voice harshly scolded him and Frodo jumped up, looking around nervously. But no one was in the room. That voice was his own conscious.

But again, Frodo found it difficult to leave all this luxury behind. For the first time after only Valar knew how long, he could freely move all his limbs, see around unhindered by any blindfold, and take a deep breath - a real deep breath - that was repeatedly denied him by something throttling at his throat or by himself every time he held his breath due to extreme pains being inflicted upon him.

'Please, please,' Frodo hummed again, throwing his frail figure back to the bed, this time to lie on his stomach. Rubbing the smooth, satin bed sheet with his two arms, moving them like a flying butterfly, Frodo clenched his eyes in agonized peace. He felt so peaceful yet he knew this was all artificial. His freedom was a mere fantasy. The men and orcs and --- Merry were still out there, holding him captive.

Hugging the pillow tightly and nuzzling his face deep into it, Frodo unconsciously wept. Merry might be his guardian but he was harsh sometimes. And just now, Merry had left him stranded in the hands of a detestable ruffian who - who had acted disgustingly toward Frodo, who had strangely unbound him - for what? To harass him more?

And all of a sudden his mind snapped to the present. Of course! The man must have left him unleashed and unconstrained so that he could hurt Frodo more.

With his eyes shining like a feral animal's, Frodo blazed around the room, the new realization making him panicked. He jumped off the bed carelessly. Gods, no! He could not afford to have his ankle twisted now. Checking his balance, Frodo drew a breath in relief. No, his ankles were fine.

Cold, marble-tiled floor felt smooth under Frodo's feet and he tiptoed to the door, afraid that his steps could still emit some sound. It felt like hours before Frodo finally reached the strong, wooden door - only to find that it was locked, much to his dismay. Deep down he already had predicted that condition.

Forgetting his previous intent to be as silent as he could, Frodo, triggered by his disappointment, banged at the door with the balls of his hands in fury and anquish. Frodo's desperate pounding resulted in nothing but bruises and new, exploding pains.

--- and roars of laughter behind the suddenly open door.

TBC

AN: I know you are reading it and for that I send my deepest gratitude. Now, would you leave a word or two for this writer? She'll love you forever for that! - Iorhael