Marroc's Tale
By Hippy :) Hobbit
Chapter 5: The Monster
Dedicated to Niph
~*~*~*~
Marroc's face seemed to grow sadder every day, and his step lost more and more of its spring. He didn't smile, and his bright eyes never shone true anymore.
Everyone he came in contact with saw it. His mother, his father, Merry, and all the other Bucklanders. He was no longer the bane of their existence, but now a skulking shadow of a lad they all once considered a pest.
The word had spread of Maggie's illness. She wasn't seen putsying around the Took's acreage anymore. Bridle had given her strict orders to stay in bed. And so, every day, Esmeralda would come to her cousin's house with a basket of food, enough to fill the stomachs of the three Tooks.
But Maggie wouldn't eat.
Since everyone who gathered around whispered in dread that the flower of Brandyhall was wilting, she had lost her will. The sad face of her son was the only thing that mattered now.
He stayed by her side as often as he could, which was mostly during the night, when his father was away at his job. Tarroc hadn't allowed Marroc to see his mother very much. He had become insane, in the eyes of his son, doing routines day in and day out. He didn't watch over Marroc much anymore- Maggie was all that mattered. He hogged his wife to himself everyday, until the point where it was difficult to even get the healers in through the door with out him throwing a fit. Everything anyone did in Maggie presence bothered him enough to throw him or her out of the house. Even when poor Marroc gave his mother a goodnight kiss one night, Tarroc yelled at him until he cried, until his silent tears streamed down his face, which made his father even angrier.
"NEVER CRY! YOU DON'T EVER CRY!" the yell rang out through the house. The tears stopped, and Marroc gave a few dry sobs, his shoulders shaking. Maggie was crying now.
"TARROC! Tarroc, leave him alone! Let him be, Tarroc!" she sobbed, covering her face with her pillows. But her husband paid no heed. His hands were balled into fists as he stepped closer to his son. Marroc didn't move, but closed his eyes, his body shaking now in trepidation.
Then, in that moment, Tarroc snapped. His fist came flying across Marroc's face, spinning him over and knocking him on to his back. He lie there, still as can be, afraid to move. Dimly, he could hear his mother's sobs in between her coughing.
~*~*~*~
"How did you get that black eye?" Merry asked Marroc, quietly. His mother had found Marroc, shaking and scared the morning after his father had hit him in the Took's barn. She had taken him home, given him a warm meal (which he had only taken a few bites of) and changed his clothes, before telling Merry to be extra nice to his cousin.
"I fell." Marroc said simply, avoiding Merry's gaze, his fingers busy with two knitting needles and a whole lot of brown yarn.
Merry sighed, "Tell me the truth."
Marroc shook his head, not wanting to remember the events from the night before. Merry sighed again,
"Will you ever tell me?"
Marroc shook his head again, his face slack and his fingers still tangled in the brown yarn.
Merry stood, and walked out of the room, to his mother.
"He wont tell me what happened,"
Esmeralda sighed and walked into the room with Marroc in it.
His face was emotionless, his eyes glassy- the screaming of his father and the sobbing of his mother echoing in his pointed ears.
His aunt set her hand on his shoulder, and Marroc jumped nearly a foot in the air. She put her hand on the side of his head, "Marroc, please tell us what happened?" Merry had re-entered the room. Marroc looked his cousin in the eye and slowly shook his head. Esmeralda turned to her son and gave him a look to say, 'please leave,' and he did so. She turned back to Marroc, "Please tell ME..."
The lad shook his head, and went back to his knitting.
~*~*~*~
A/N Wow... that was a horrible short chapter. 709 words, when most of my chapters are a couple thousand. I didn't want to add anything too quickly, but I want to post this one before I change my mind.
The original Marroc's Tale was supposed to be about how he was abused by his father's rage, but I changed Tarroc a lot. But then, I decided that I had to give the poor lad more pain then what is to come. I feel so rotten x.X But the rating of the story has been upped to PG-13 for this one chapter.
Oh yes, when you review, please add in your post if you would like me to send you a drawing I did of wee Marroc ^^
Replies to reviews for chapter 3:
Takeme2theheavens: Erm... I also like the squirrel, Silent Sam I think is his name. My friend calls me 'squirrel' a lot because I nibble on things o.O Poor
Estie...
Niph: Yeah, lots of shortness. This chapter is even shorter. I hope it doesn't look like I whipped it out in 15 minutes.
Replies to reviews for chapter 4:
Natta: four chapters? *blinkblink* Awww... thank you!
Niph: I love goats *huggles Merrytou*
~Hippy
By Hippy :) Hobbit
Chapter 5: The Monster
Dedicated to Niph
~*~*~*~
Marroc's face seemed to grow sadder every day, and his step lost more and more of its spring. He didn't smile, and his bright eyes never shone true anymore.
Everyone he came in contact with saw it. His mother, his father, Merry, and all the other Bucklanders. He was no longer the bane of their existence, but now a skulking shadow of a lad they all once considered a pest.
The word had spread of Maggie's illness. She wasn't seen putsying around the Took's acreage anymore. Bridle had given her strict orders to stay in bed. And so, every day, Esmeralda would come to her cousin's house with a basket of food, enough to fill the stomachs of the three Tooks.
But Maggie wouldn't eat.
Since everyone who gathered around whispered in dread that the flower of Brandyhall was wilting, she had lost her will. The sad face of her son was the only thing that mattered now.
He stayed by her side as often as he could, which was mostly during the night, when his father was away at his job. Tarroc hadn't allowed Marroc to see his mother very much. He had become insane, in the eyes of his son, doing routines day in and day out. He didn't watch over Marroc much anymore- Maggie was all that mattered. He hogged his wife to himself everyday, until the point where it was difficult to even get the healers in through the door with out him throwing a fit. Everything anyone did in Maggie presence bothered him enough to throw him or her out of the house. Even when poor Marroc gave his mother a goodnight kiss one night, Tarroc yelled at him until he cried, until his silent tears streamed down his face, which made his father even angrier.
"NEVER CRY! YOU DON'T EVER CRY!" the yell rang out through the house. The tears stopped, and Marroc gave a few dry sobs, his shoulders shaking. Maggie was crying now.
"TARROC! Tarroc, leave him alone! Let him be, Tarroc!" she sobbed, covering her face with her pillows. But her husband paid no heed. His hands were balled into fists as he stepped closer to his son. Marroc didn't move, but closed his eyes, his body shaking now in trepidation.
Then, in that moment, Tarroc snapped. His fist came flying across Marroc's face, spinning him over and knocking him on to his back. He lie there, still as can be, afraid to move. Dimly, he could hear his mother's sobs in between her coughing.
~*~*~*~
"How did you get that black eye?" Merry asked Marroc, quietly. His mother had found Marroc, shaking and scared the morning after his father had hit him in the Took's barn. She had taken him home, given him a warm meal (which he had only taken a few bites of) and changed his clothes, before telling Merry to be extra nice to his cousin.
"I fell." Marroc said simply, avoiding Merry's gaze, his fingers busy with two knitting needles and a whole lot of brown yarn.
Merry sighed, "Tell me the truth."
Marroc shook his head, not wanting to remember the events from the night before. Merry sighed again,
"Will you ever tell me?"
Marroc shook his head again, his face slack and his fingers still tangled in the brown yarn.
Merry stood, and walked out of the room, to his mother.
"He wont tell me what happened,"
Esmeralda sighed and walked into the room with Marroc in it.
His face was emotionless, his eyes glassy- the screaming of his father and the sobbing of his mother echoing in his pointed ears.
His aunt set her hand on his shoulder, and Marroc jumped nearly a foot in the air. She put her hand on the side of his head, "Marroc, please tell us what happened?" Merry had re-entered the room. Marroc looked his cousin in the eye and slowly shook his head. Esmeralda turned to her son and gave him a look to say, 'please leave,' and he did so. She turned back to Marroc, "Please tell ME..."
The lad shook his head, and went back to his knitting.
~*~*~*~
A/N Wow... that was a horrible short chapter. 709 words, when most of my chapters are a couple thousand. I didn't want to add anything too quickly, but I want to post this one before I change my mind.
The original Marroc's Tale was supposed to be about how he was abused by his father's rage, but I changed Tarroc a lot. But then, I decided that I had to give the poor lad more pain then what is to come. I feel so rotten x.X But the rating of the story has been upped to PG-13 for this one chapter.
Oh yes, when you review, please add in your post if you would like me to send you a drawing I did of wee Marroc ^^
Replies to reviews for chapter 3:
Takeme2theheavens: Erm... I also like the squirrel, Silent Sam I think is his name. My friend calls me 'squirrel' a lot because I nibble on things o.O Poor
Estie...
Niph: Yeah, lots of shortness. This chapter is even shorter. I hope it doesn't look like I whipped it out in 15 minutes.
Replies to reviews for chapter 4:
Natta: four chapters? *blinkblink* Awww... thank you!
Niph: I love goats *huggles Merrytou*
~Hippy