Peony - There are definitely some psychological games being played here. Not only is Frodo a prisoner, he can look only to his captor to protect him now! Bramblethorn may protect him from Monto, but can he protect him from himself?
Iorhael - If I were Frodo I would have hit Brablethorn for that remark too. Poor dear!
Honey Dipped Rose - Bramblethorn is going to let Monto torment Frodo just a little bit, in order for Bramblethorn to 'save' him. A nasty little plan to break Frodo down and get him to turn to his captor for comfort.
Sam - Sam will be back, believe me! Meanwhile, Bramblethorn is still busy with his plans for Frodo.
Stephanie - Thanks for naming this fic 'the best'! That's a huge compliment! I do already have the whole story written, so I do know what happens! The name of my villain came from my wanting it to be something that sounds prickly and nasty, like you wouldn't want to step on it barefoot.
FrodoBaggins87 - More shivers on the way!
CuriousCat - Bramblethorn is twisted, isn't he? He does want Frodo to submit, more than anything. Monto doesn't mind getting to rough Frodo up a bit either.
Hobbitfeet13 - Frodo will keep his feistiness, believe me. He is starting to unravel a bit though, hence the title of this chapter.
GamgeeFest - Bramblethorn is most certainly deluded with regard to Frodo. Merry and Sam will soon realize that something isn't right. Bramblethorn hates it when Frodo mentions Sam in front of him.
KT SHY - The dynamics here are quite complex, aren't they? I figured it would be good angst if Frodo has to look to his hated enemy to save him. Frodo might be safe for the moment, but who knows?
Endymion2 - If Monto hadn't waited so long to decide to attack Frodo, he would most certainly have succeeded. Frodo will keep his spirit as always, but he is starting to break down a little bit. The innkeeper will have his part in things, certainly.
Anarie - Monto was pretty close to succeeding, if Bramblethorn hadn't stopped him. Bramblethorn is being as patient as he can, but how long can he keep it up?
Aelfgifu - Will Frodo try to escape? I'd say so, if he gets the chance. The odds are very much against him right now.
Trust No One - Bramblethorn will have to be very crafty if he hopes to get Frodo where he wants him without the use of force. He'll have to be patient, too, and that's a tough one for him!
FrodoBaggins1982 - Frodo will get his share of shots in against Bramblethorn as we go. There's no way he will give in easily.
Spootasia Tomoe - Frodo will continue to battle his nemesis. Brramblethorn is hoping that Frodo will begin to break down and identify with him on some level, and that's the main reason he intercepted Merry's letter to his father. The longer he can delay Merry and Sam, the more time he has to work on Frodo.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 10 - Unraveling
~*~ Morning ~*~
The post had arrived early, and Bramblethorn flipped through the various small items on his desk. One in particular caught his eye, an envelope with letters hastily scrawled upon it. He opened it and pulled the note out, unfolding it to see what it said.
A wide grin spread across his face. How endearing, he thought. A letter to Frodo from his cousin and his gardener. Keep your chin up, old boy. We're pulling for you, and so forth. He tucked it back into the envelope, opened up a drawer in his desk, and dropped it in to join another similar envelope with an address scratched upon it in the same handwriting. Merry's second missive fell into the dark space to join his first, both unseen by their intended recipients.
~*~
Numb. Frodo realized with dismay that he could feel little sensation in his hands or arms as he tugged at his bonds again. He had tried without success to measure the hours as they passed, and he knew only that he had been in his present position for quite a while, perhaps all through the previous afternoon, evening and night.
He wanted only one thing, for someone to come and release him. On the heels of that thought, came the realization of who that someone would likely be. Bramblethorn. Did that mean that Frodo would actually be glad to see him when he stepped into the room, undoubtedly smirking to himself? Glad to see Bramblethorn. The idea was ludicrous, but a hideous possibility, Frodo admitted to himself.
What if Bramblethorn did not come himself to see him out of his bonds? Suppose he sent Anson or Monto? Or both? What if they just left him there, for another day and another night? What if -
The door opened and Bramblethorn walked in, carrying something in his hand, something made of cloth. He set it down on the bed, seated himself at Frodo's side, and reached out to finger the scratchy surface of the rope around one slim wrist.
"Frodo, love, it's morning," Bramblethorn crooned. "Are you feeling at all repentant for your performance yesterday? Would you like to be released?"
"Yes," Frodo responded weakly, suddenly aware that he had inadvertently just answered not only the latter, but both of Bramblethorn's questions affirmatively. He cringed at his error, but Bramblethorn didn't seem to notice.
"Poor dear, how uncomfortable your night must have been," Bramblethorn said as he unbound first one wrist, then the other. Frodo's arms flopped limply onto the bed, and he stared at Bramblethorn apprehensively.
"Let us try to make today more pleasant, shall we?" Bramblethorn reached for the torn shirt Frodo was still wearing and began to unfasten the remaining buttons.
"Please, don't," Frodo whispered, turning his eyes away from the sight of Bramblethorn leaning over him. "You mustn't! Please, I can't bear it!"
"Don't be frightened, Frodo," Bramblethorn said quietly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I merely wish to remove this tattered rag you're wearing in favor of something more presentable." Bramblethorn pulled Frodo upright and slid the torn shirt from his shoulders. Frodo willed his hands to reach out and prevent the action, but his arms were now tingling sharply and still refused to obey his commands. Bramblethorn pulled on the cuffs and exposed one arm, then the other. Shirtless and wincing at the pins and needles prickling in his skin as circulation resumed, Frodo continued to avert his eyes.
Bramblethorn tore his gaze from Frodo reluctantly, and picked up the item he had brought with him, one of his own fine linen shirts. It would be a little too large for Frodo, but it would be better than the damaged thing he had just eased from Frodo's shoulders.
"Lift up your arm, Frodo, won't you?" Bramblethorn asked as he held up the shirt.
"I can't," Frodo muttered, still not meeting Bramblethorn's gaze. "It hurts."
"Ahh. Of course it does," Bramblethorn agreed. "You've been bound for many hours, I'm afraid. But that won't be necessary again, will it, Frodo, dear?" Bramblethorn asked.
Not waiting for an answer or really expecting to receive one, Bramblethorn lifted Frodo's arm himself and pulled the sleeve of the shirt up over the slender, long - fingered hand. He repeated the action with the other arm and settled the shirt neatly about Frodo's slumped shoulders. He buttoned it slowly, carefully, as if it were a fragile thing wrought of something finer and more rare than cloth.
"Much better, don't you think?" Bramblethorn said with a smile.
"Thank you," Frodo replied dimly. And what was he thanking Bramblethorn for? For the shirt to replace the one that served as a bitter reminder of the horrifying events of the previous day? For refraining from using Frodo's present situation as an opportunity to take liberties of his own?
"You are angry with me," Bramblethorn observed. "I should have expected as much." He took one of Frodo's hands and began to rub life back into it, and Frodo gave him a pained look. Bramblethorn chose to ignore it.
"I thought today we might have a little breakfast together, and then I have something to show you." Bramblethorn stood and gestured for Frodo to follow.
"Where are they?" Frodo asked cautiously. He didn't hear anything in the hallway that told of the presence of either of his minders.
"I have set them other tasks this morning," Bramblethorn said vaguely. "You will not be bothered by them, I promise. Come, Frodo, breakfast is waiting."
Frodo reluctantly followed, immeasurably glad to be free of restraints and locked doors for the moment. He felt a sudden twinge of irritation at being glad of anything regarding his present situation. The only thing he should be truly glad of would be his release from captivity, to re - join Merry and Sam.
Bramblethorn continued on to the dining room, and turned to wave Frodo in before him. The table stood ready with fresh tea and scones, eggs and bacon. It smelled very good.
"You must be hungry, since you missed supper last night." Bramblethorn pulled out a chair and waited for Frodo to sit down. Once Frodo had complied, he seated himself across the table and passed a scone to Frodo.
The entire tableau seemed unreal to Frodo as he looked around him. It might have been that the effects of the sedative he'd been dosed with the previous day had not worn off entirely, but there was something entirely too uncanny about Bramblethorn's unusually civil behavior.
"Why are you doing this?" Frodo asked suddenly. It was completely out of character for Bramblethorn to be so kind to him, and Frodo was unsettled by it.
"Your pardon, Frodo, dear?" Bramblethorn asked, all innocence.
"Why are you suddenly being so kind to me, after all of the other things you've done?" Frodo looked Bramblethorn in the eyes and waited for an answer.
Bramblethorn's brow furrowed as he considered Frodo's query. "Would you rather I behaved differently? Really, Frodo, we need not be at each others' throats all of the time."
"I suppose we need not, it's true," Frodo agreed reluctantly. "But it seems for every kindness, no matter how small, with you there is always a price."
"You're very perceptive, Frodo," Bramblethorn complimented. "But you are already aware of the small things I ask of you in return. I wish only that you will neither flee nor fight."
"I cannot promise such a thing," Frodo said honestly. "Despite your hospitality - " Frodo gestured to the meal in front of him, "I do not wish to be here. I wish to be with Merry and Sam."
Bramblethorn sighed. "Even after they left you here, alone and frightened, and in grave danger? They still command so much of your loyalty, recent events notwithstanding?"
It was Frodo's turn to frown. "I love them both very dearly, and they care very much for me as well."
"But yet you have heard not one word from them, have you, Frodo?" Bramblethorn shook his head and schooled his features into a sad expression. "Not one word of encouragement, one statement of sorrow for your unfortunate situation." No, Frodo had not received word from his cousin and gardener, nor would he, if Bramblethorn had his way.
Bramblethorn's words stung Frodo deeply, and he was unable to keep a stricken expression from his face. "They fear for me. They don't trust you not to do something terrible if they - "
"I'm sorry if I've upset you, love," Bramblethorn soothed. "Your breakfast is getting cold."
Frodo made no further reply. He finished his meal in silence, although his appetite had disappeared long since. Bramblethorn rose from the table and stood beside Frodo. "Come along, Frodo. As I've said, I have something I want to show you." Frodo looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Don't worry about the dishes. They will be taken care of." Bramblethorn extended his hand to Frodo. Frodo rose without taking it.
"Circumstances have caused you to see very little of my home thus far," Bramblethorn rattled on as they made their way down the hall. Frodo was lagging behind, and Bramblethorn turned and looked at him pointedly. "Must I take your hand and lead you, Frodo?" He put a companionable arm around Frodo's shoulders, ignoring the flinch that it precipitated.
Bramblethorn led the way to a set of double doors with brass handles. He flung them open wide, revealing a substantial library, shelves lined with many books. It was nothing at all in comparison with Brandy Hall's library, but impressive for a private one.
"You will find I've a good selection of reading materials," Bramblethorn said invitingly. "Perhaps there is something here that might interest you."
"Perhaps," Frodo said, rather sadly. As much as he enjoyed books, they were no substitute for the people he loved, for freedom. He sank down into an armchair and rather listlessly picked up the nearest leather bound volume.
"Cheer up, love. Look around you. You're in a lovely, cozy room, with naught to bind you but the spell of a good tale." Bramblethorn took a chair nearby and found a book of his own. He began reading calmly, only looking up from time to time to see if Frodo was doing the same.
Frodo sighed and gave the book his attention. Perhaps it would take his mind off things, and settle his still rather frayed nerves. He had awakened bound and afraid, only to be coddled and petted like a favorite child. The contrast was so stark, it frightened him more than it would if Bramblethorn had been abusive to him.
Old habits and loves are not easily banished, and before long, Frodo was absorbed in the book. It was a history of Breeland and the surrounding areas, and for once he found that a tale of the lands of the Big Folk was actually rather interesting.
It was an hour or so later that he heard something that caused him to lower the book and peer cautiously at Bramblethorn. The other hobbit was dozing and snoring lightly, his book upside down upon his chest and his feet resting upon a low stool in front of his chair.
A sharp memory gripped Frodo as he looked at the door, so invitingly ajar beyond Bramblethorn's chair. Another door, not ajar, but closed. A telling squeak of hinges that had betrayed his flight and awakened his captor. A desperate dash for freedom that had ended in pain and darkness.
As if mesmerized, Frodo set the book on the table silently and kept his eyes fixed upon the doors of the library. He moved toward them, almost without realizing that he was placing one foot in front of the other. Bramblethorn dozed on, unaware that his captive was attempting escape.
Frodo paused, swallowing hard and trying to calm the pounding of his heart. He thought about using something in the room as a weapon of some kind, but there was nothing nearby, not even a candlestick. There was nothing with which to strike Bramblethorn unconscious, and Frodo wondered if he would even be successful if he attempted such a thing. Opting instead for stealth, Frodo made his way to the door of the library with silent steps.
The hinges were well - oiled and the door kept its silence as Frodo opened it wider. He peered carefully into the hallway, looking left, then right. Bramblethorn had said Monto and Anson were about other duties that morning. Were they away, then?
Frodo stepped into the hallway. Where was the exit, he wondered as his heart thudded loudly in his ears. His eyes had been covered when Monto and Anson had delivered him into Bramblethorn's clutches. He steeled himself and made a right - hand turn down the corridor. It branched off again, and he stood at the junction, peering down one of the hallways. As he stepped into it, an indignant shout shattered the silence and betrayed his flight.
"Hey! Just where do you think you're goin'?" Monto had appeared as if from nowhere and was rapidly closing the distance between himself and Frodo.
Frodo gasped and fled, rushing blindly down the corridor and hoping the exit lay somewhere ahead of him. His hopes were dashed as he came up against a locked door that obviously led someplace other than to the world outside. He was trapped! Frodo grasped the doorknob and rattled it, but it was locked. Wherever the door led, it would not be his salvation. With no other alternative, Frodo turned to face the enemy who approached him.
"How did you get loose?" Monto snarled as he reached out toward Frodo, his face contorted in an ugly sneer. "Don't matter, I s'pose, since I've got you now," he gloated.
"NO!" Frodo cried out in frustration and horror. "Stay away from me!" Frodo struck out against Monto in a desperate attempt to escape capture. The blow landed and Monto lurched backward as Frodo tried to leap past him.
"Like to play rough, do ya?" Monto snared Frodo by one arm and slammed him into the wall. "The boss won't let me play with you, but he don't mind if I teach you a lesson or two," Monto advised as Frodo struggled in his grasp.
"Let go of me!" Frodo cried as he tried to twist away from Monto. Failing in his effort, he sank his teeth into the nearest part of his adversary he could reach.
Monto howled and yanked his arm back, inadvertently releasing Frodo as he did so. Frodo ran back up the corridor and veered off down another. This time, a large, round door loomed ahead of him enticingly. Just as his fingertips brushed the smooth wood, Monto caught him again. The burly hobbit spun Frodo around to face him and delivered a sharp slap to his face.
"I've had enough of you, pretty boy," Monto sneered. "You're more trouble than you're worth, in my opinion." Monto drew back to strike Frodo again. Pinned firmly against the door, Frodo closed his eyes and waited for the blow to fall. Instead, he heard a voice at the end of the hallway.
"Hold, Monto," Bramblethorn commanded as he strode toward them. "Have I not expressed myself well enough with regard to your handling of Frodo?"
"The little rat bit me," Monto said defensively, giving Frodo a hard shake as he spoke.
"Did he now?" Bramblethorn asked calmly as he gave Frodo a measuring look. "Was your breakfast not adequate, love?" he teased. Frodo stiffened.
Growing serious, Bramblethorn regarded his captive. "Will you never learn, Frodo?" he said, shaking his head. "Have you heard not a single word that I've said during our time together?"
"I've heard more than enough!" Frodo shouted. "You want me to submit to you meekly, but I'll not do it!"
"And so you would brave Monto's wrath and my own in your attempt to flee, rather than accept the comfort I offer you?" Bramblethorn's tone held a note of condescension that only fueled Frodo's anger.
"I shall take no comfort in you nor in anything you offer me!" Frodo shot back, pulling his arm out of Monto's grasp. "I hate you and whatever game you're playing, and I'll not be party to it!"
"Your words wound me, my sweet," Bramblethorn said as he fixed Frodo with a sharp gaze. "Perhaps you will be less inclined to speak so harshly after a little time alone." Bramblethorn turned to Monto. "You've done well, Monto, and I thank you. Give him to me, and prepare his room."
Monto gave Frodo a hard shove toward Bramblethorn and he stumbled, straight into Bramblethorn's arms. Bramblethorn held him fast, and whispered into his ear. "You have not kept your promises, Frodo. Therefore, I am released from mine."
Frodo's head spun as Bramblethorn pulled him into the room, and dragged him toward the bed. The courage his anger had provided him was beginning to fade as he contemplated Bramblethorn's words. "Please, don't bind me again!" Frodo heard himself begging and loathed himself for it.
"How can you ask that of me when you have betrayed my trust so thoroughly, love?" Bramblethorn asked as Monto appeared with rope in hand. "I will do what I must to keep you in your place, up to and including binding you."
"You would have done as I did," Frodo reasoned desperately as Monto approached him. "Were you in my place you would try to escape."
"But I am not in your place, Frodo." Bramblethorn reminded him as he pulled Frodo's hands behind him and pressed him face down onto the bed. He nodded to Monto, who happily wrapped the rope around Frodo's wrists again.
"If I were you, boss, I'd put him in the cellar an' let the rats have a nibble," Monto advised, giving a sharp tug on the rope around Frodo's ankles.
Lying face down on the bed, Frodo couldn't see Bramblethorn wink at his henchman. It was show time. "Well, you're not me, are you?" he said, sitting down on the bed and lightly stroking Frodo's hair. "Leave us."
Monto turned and left the room, taking up his post outside again.
"I am sorry, Frodo, believe me." Bramblethorn rolled Frodo onto his side and brushed his fingers across his face, which was already beginning to swell where Monto had struck him. "Did he hurt you?"
"What do you care if he did?" Frodo asked, averting his gaze.
"What do I care?" Bramblethorn echoed, sounding disappointed. "I care more than you realize," he said calmly. "Have I not saved you from further abuse at his hands?"
Frodo ignored the question. "I thought you said he wasn't about," he said shakily.
"I sent him on a few errands this morning. He must have only just returned." Bramblethorn brushed the first of Frodo's tears away even as it fell. "I am sorry you had to encounter him as you did, but you shouldn't have left my side."
"You cannot ask me not to," Frodo said, his voice breaking.
"Bear this in mind, Frodo," Bramblethorn said evenly. "As long as you are with me, you are safe from him. I gave him that colorful eye he's sporting, as you remember, but I will not discharge him from my service. I have warned him quite thoroughly, but - " Bramblethorn trailed off, pulling Frodo close and kissing his forehead.
"Don't let him - " Frodo heard himself say. "Please don't let him touch me again!"
"I shall watch him as closely as I am able, and to my knowledge Anson has no designs upon you." Bramblethorn released Frodo and gently eased him down on the bed again. "But I too must sleep, Frodo. I cannot watch him every minute. You should have remained in my company, and not gone off and provoked him."
"What of you?" Frodo asked. "The last time I escaped from you - "
"The last time you tried something so foolish, I was very angry with you. I am quite disappointed now, I must say." Bramblethorn regarded Frodo sternly. "I must be growing more patient as the years pass me by," he mused. "Either that, or I have grown too fond of you to harm you with my own hands."
"And so you let them," Frodo cried, his voice rising. "You let them strike me, and tear at me!" Fear had replaced anger now, and it was evident in Frodo's eyes.
"Now, now, dear. Hysterics do not become you," Bramblethorn said, secretly pleased to see Frodo unraveling before him. He stood and moved to the door, opened it slightly and said something to Monto. He returned to Frodo, who was weeping openly now, his bound form shaking.
"I've asked for more tea for you, dear." Bramblethorn scooped Frodo up into his arms and held him close. "I shall stay nearby while you rest and calm yourself."
The sight of Monto entering the room bearing a cup of tea made Frodo nearly frantic. He twisted in Bramblethorn's embrace, crying out, "Untie me! Please, in the name of the Valar, release me!"
Bramblethorn continued to hold Frodo as Monto tipped his head back and held his nose, forcing Frodo to open his mouth to draw breath. In an instant the teacup was at his lips and the sedative was administered. "Sweet dreams," Monto said snidely and walked out.
"How - how could you - " Frodo sobbed brokenly.
"Would you have allowed me to give you the tea?" Bramblethorn asked. "Would you have taken it from me? No, Frodo. You are too distraught, my poor dear."
Within minutes, Frodo's sobs became a quieter flow of tears, and his struggles ceased as the drug numbed his senses. He felt himself sinking, drifting away.
Bramblethorn remained for some time, his arms wrapped around Frodo securely. So close, he thought. So close to his victory! He owed Monto a debt it seemed. The more Frodo feared Bramblethorn's bodyguard, the easier it was for Bramblethorn to present himself as a safe harbor in the storm. Just a few more days of this and no contact with that dratted Brandybuck and that foolish gardener, and Frodo should be genuinely glad to see Bramblethorn whenever he appeared.
~*~ Later ~*~
Bramblethorn held Frodo's damaged shirt in his hands, thoughtfully stroking the fabric. An idea came to him. "I know just what to do with this," he muttered to himself. He folded the shirt neatly and wrapped it in tissue paper. He added an outer layer of paper and tied the bundle with a string. He pondered whether or not to send a note, but decided the parcel itself spoke volumes. He inscribed delivery instructions on the outer layer of paper and summoned Anson to bear the parcel to its intended destination.
~*~ To be continued ~*~
Iorhael - If I were Frodo I would have hit Brablethorn for that remark too. Poor dear!
Honey Dipped Rose - Bramblethorn is going to let Monto torment Frodo just a little bit, in order for Bramblethorn to 'save' him. A nasty little plan to break Frodo down and get him to turn to his captor for comfort.
Sam - Sam will be back, believe me! Meanwhile, Bramblethorn is still busy with his plans for Frodo.
Stephanie - Thanks for naming this fic 'the best'! That's a huge compliment! I do already have the whole story written, so I do know what happens! The name of my villain came from my wanting it to be something that sounds prickly and nasty, like you wouldn't want to step on it barefoot.
FrodoBaggins87 - More shivers on the way!
CuriousCat - Bramblethorn is twisted, isn't he? He does want Frodo to submit, more than anything. Monto doesn't mind getting to rough Frodo up a bit either.
Hobbitfeet13 - Frodo will keep his feistiness, believe me. He is starting to unravel a bit though, hence the title of this chapter.
GamgeeFest - Bramblethorn is most certainly deluded with regard to Frodo. Merry and Sam will soon realize that something isn't right. Bramblethorn hates it when Frodo mentions Sam in front of him.
KT SHY - The dynamics here are quite complex, aren't they? I figured it would be good angst if Frodo has to look to his hated enemy to save him. Frodo might be safe for the moment, but who knows?
Endymion2 - If Monto hadn't waited so long to decide to attack Frodo, he would most certainly have succeeded. Frodo will keep his spirit as always, but he is starting to break down a little bit. The innkeeper will have his part in things, certainly.
Anarie - Monto was pretty close to succeeding, if Bramblethorn hadn't stopped him. Bramblethorn is being as patient as he can, but how long can he keep it up?
Aelfgifu - Will Frodo try to escape? I'd say so, if he gets the chance. The odds are very much against him right now.
Trust No One - Bramblethorn will have to be very crafty if he hopes to get Frodo where he wants him without the use of force. He'll have to be patient, too, and that's a tough one for him!
FrodoBaggins1982 - Frodo will get his share of shots in against Bramblethorn as we go. There's no way he will give in easily.
Spootasia Tomoe - Frodo will continue to battle his nemesis. Brramblethorn is hoping that Frodo will begin to break down and identify with him on some level, and that's the main reason he intercepted Merry's letter to his father. The longer he can delay Merry and Sam, the more time he has to work on Frodo.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 10 - Unraveling
~*~ Morning ~*~
The post had arrived early, and Bramblethorn flipped through the various small items on his desk. One in particular caught his eye, an envelope with letters hastily scrawled upon it. He opened it and pulled the note out, unfolding it to see what it said.
A wide grin spread across his face. How endearing, he thought. A letter to Frodo from his cousin and his gardener. Keep your chin up, old boy. We're pulling for you, and so forth. He tucked it back into the envelope, opened up a drawer in his desk, and dropped it in to join another similar envelope with an address scratched upon it in the same handwriting. Merry's second missive fell into the dark space to join his first, both unseen by their intended recipients.
~*~
Numb. Frodo realized with dismay that he could feel little sensation in his hands or arms as he tugged at his bonds again. He had tried without success to measure the hours as they passed, and he knew only that he had been in his present position for quite a while, perhaps all through the previous afternoon, evening and night.
He wanted only one thing, for someone to come and release him. On the heels of that thought, came the realization of who that someone would likely be. Bramblethorn. Did that mean that Frodo would actually be glad to see him when he stepped into the room, undoubtedly smirking to himself? Glad to see Bramblethorn. The idea was ludicrous, but a hideous possibility, Frodo admitted to himself.
What if Bramblethorn did not come himself to see him out of his bonds? Suppose he sent Anson or Monto? Or both? What if they just left him there, for another day and another night? What if -
The door opened and Bramblethorn walked in, carrying something in his hand, something made of cloth. He set it down on the bed, seated himself at Frodo's side, and reached out to finger the scratchy surface of the rope around one slim wrist.
"Frodo, love, it's morning," Bramblethorn crooned. "Are you feeling at all repentant for your performance yesterday? Would you like to be released?"
"Yes," Frodo responded weakly, suddenly aware that he had inadvertently just answered not only the latter, but both of Bramblethorn's questions affirmatively. He cringed at his error, but Bramblethorn didn't seem to notice.
"Poor dear, how uncomfortable your night must have been," Bramblethorn said as he unbound first one wrist, then the other. Frodo's arms flopped limply onto the bed, and he stared at Bramblethorn apprehensively.
"Let us try to make today more pleasant, shall we?" Bramblethorn reached for the torn shirt Frodo was still wearing and began to unfasten the remaining buttons.
"Please, don't," Frodo whispered, turning his eyes away from the sight of Bramblethorn leaning over him. "You mustn't! Please, I can't bear it!"
"Don't be frightened, Frodo," Bramblethorn said quietly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I merely wish to remove this tattered rag you're wearing in favor of something more presentable." Bramblethorn pulled Frodo upright and slid the torn shirt from his shoulders. Frodo willed his hands to reach out and prevent the action, but his arms were now tingling sharply and still refused to obey his commands. Bramblethorn pulled on the cuffs and exposed one arm, then the other. Shirtless and wincing at the pins and needles prickling in his skin as circulation resumed, Frodo continued to avert his eyes.
Bramblethorn tore his gaze from Frodo reluctantly, and picked up the item he had brought with him, one of his own fine linen shirts. It would be a little too large for Frodo, but it would be better than the damaged thing he had just eased from Frodo's shoulders.
"Lift up your arm, Frodo, won't you?" Bramblethorn asked as he held up the shirt.
"I can't," Frodo muttered, still not meeting Bramblethorn's gaze. "It hurts."
"Ahh. Of course it does," Bramblethorn agreed. "You've been bound for many hours, I'm afraid. But that won't be necessary again, will it, Frodo, dear?" Bramblethorn asked.
Not waiting for an answer or really expecting to receive one, Bramblethorn lifted Frodo's arm himself and pulled the sleeve of the shirt up over the slender, long - fingered hand. He repeated the action with the other arm and settled the shirt neatly about Frodo's slumped shoulders. He buttoned it slowly, carefully, as if it were a fragile thing wrought of something finer and more rare than cloth.
"Much better, don't you think?" Bramblethorn said with a smile.
"Thank you," Frodo replied dimly. And what was he thanking Bramblethorn for? For the shirt to replace the one that served as a bitter reminder of the horrifying events of the previous day? For refraining from using Frodo's present situation as an opportunity to take liberties of his own?
"You are angry with me," Bramblethorn observed. "I should have expected as much." He took one of Frodo's hands and began to rub life back into it, and Frodo gave him a pained look. Bramblethorn chose to ignore it.
"I thought today we might have a little breakfast together, and then I have something to show you." Bramblethorn stood and gestured for Frodo to follow.
"Where are they?" Frodo asked cautiously. He didn't hear anything in the hallway that told of the presence of either of his minders.
"I have set them other tasks this morning," Bramblethorn said vaguely. "You will not be bothered by them, I promise. Come, Frodo, breakfast is waiting."
Frodo reluctantly followed, immeasurably glad to be free of restraints and locked doors for the moment. He felt a sudden twinge of irritation at being glad of anything regarding his present situation. The only thing he should be truly glad of would be his release from captivity, to re - join Merry and Sam.
Bramblethorn continued on to the dining room, and turned to wave Frodo in before him. The table stood ready with fresh tea and scones, eggs and bacon. It smelled very good.
"You must be hungry, since you missed supper last night." Bramblethorn pulled out a chair and waited for Frodo to sit down. Once Frodo had complied, he seated himself across the table and passed a scone to Frodo.
The entire tableau seemed unreal to Frodo as he looked around him. It might have been that the effects of the sedative he'd been dosed with the previous day had not worn off entirely, but there was something entirely too uncanny about Bramblethorn's unusually civil behavior.
"Why are you doing this?" Frodo asked suddenly. It was completely out of character for Bramblethorn to be so kind to him, and Frodo was unsettled by it.
"Your pardon, Frodo, dear?" Bramblethorn asked, all innocence.
"Why are you suddenly being so kind to me, after all of the other things you've done?" Frodo looked Bramblethorn in the eyes and waited for an answer.
Bramblethorn's brow furrowed as he considered Frodo's query. "Would you rather I behaved differently? Really, Frodo, we need not be at each others' throats all of the time."
"I suppose we need not, it's true," Frodo agreed reluctantly. "But it seems for every kindness, no matter how small, with you there is always a price."
"You're very perceptive, Frodo," Bramblethorn complimented. "But you are already aware of the small things I ask of you in return. I wish only that you will neither flee nor fight."
"I cannot promise such a thing," Frodo said honestly. "Despite your hospitality - " Frodo gestured to the meal in front of him, "I do not wish to be here. I wish to be with Merry and Sam."
Bramblethorn sighed. "Even after they left you here, alone and frightened, and in grave danger? They still command so much of your loyalty, recent events notwithstanding?"
It was Frodo's turn to frown. "I love them both very dearly, and they care very much for me as well."
"But yet you have heard not one word from them, have you, Frodo?" Bramblethorn shook his head and schooled his features into a sad expression. "Not one word of encouragement, one statement of sorrow for your unfortunate situation." No, Frodo had not received word from his cousin and gardener, nor would he, if Bramblethorn had his way.
Bramblethorn's words stung Frodo deeply, and he was unable to keep a stricken expression from his face. "They fear for me. They don't trust you not to do something terrible if they - "
"I'm sorry if I've upset you, love," Bramblethorn soothed. "Your breakfast is getting cold."
Frodo made no further reply. He finished his meal in silence, although his appetite had disappeared long since. Bramblethorn rose from the table and stood beside Frodo. "Come along, Frodo. As I've said, I have something I want to show you." Frodo looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Don't worry about the dishes. They will be taken care of." Bramblethorn extended his hand to Frodo. Frodo rose without taking it.
"Circumstances have caused you to see very little of my home thus far," Bramblethorn rattled on as they made their way down the hall. Frodo was lagging behind, and Bramblethorn turned and looked at him pointedly. "Must I take your hand and lead you, Frodo?" He put a companionable arm around Frodo's shoulders, ignoring the flinch that it precipitated.
Bramblethorn led the way to a set of double doors with brass handles. He flung them open wide, revealing a substantial library, shelves lined with many books. It was nothing at all in comparison with Brandy Hall's library, but impressive for a private one.
"You will find I've a good selection of reading materials," Bramblethorn said invitingly. "Perhaps there is something here that might interest you."
"Perhaps," Frodo said, rather sadly. As much as he enjoyed books, they were no substitute for the people he loved, for freedom. He sank down into an armchair and rather listlessly picked up the nearest leather bound volume.
"Cheer up, love. Look around you. You're in a lovely, cozy room, with naught to bind you but the spell of a good tale." Bramblethorn took a chair nearby and found a book of his own. He began reading calmly, only looking up from time to time to see if Frodo was doing the same.
Frodo sighed and gave the book his attention. Perhaps it would take his mind off things, and settle his still rather frayed nerves. He had awakened bound and afraid, only to be coddled and petted like a favorite child. The contrast was so stark, it frightened him more than it would if Bramblethorn had been abusive to him.
Old habits and loves are not easily banished, and before long, Frodo was absorbed in the book. It was a history of Breeland and the surrounding areas, and for once he found that a tale of the lands of the Big Folk was actually rather interesting.
It was an hour or so later that he heard something that caused him to lower the book and peer cautiously at Bramblethorn. The other hobbit was dozing and snoring lightly, his book upside down upon his chest and his feet resting upon a low stool in front of his chair.
A sharp memory gripped Frodo as he looked at the door, so invitingly ajar beyond Bramblethorn's chair. Another door, not ajar, but closed. A telling squeak of hinges that had betrayed his flight and awakened his captor. A desperate dash for freedom that had ended in pain and darkness.
As if mesmerized, Frodo set the book on the table silently and kept his eyes fixed upon the doors of the library. He moved toward them, almost without realizing that he was placing one foot in front of the other. Bramblethorn dozed on, unaware that his captive was attempting escape.
Frodo paused, swallowing hard and trying to calm the pounding of his heart. He thought about using something in the room as a weapon of some kind, but there was nothing nearby, not even a candlestick. There was nothing with which to strike Bramblethorn unconscious, and Frodo wondered if he would even be successful if he attempted such a thing. Opting instead for stealth, Frodo made his way to the door of the library with silent steps.
The hinges were well - oiled and the door kept its silence as Frodo opened it wider. He peered carefully into the hallway, looking left, then right. Bramblethorn had said Monto and Anson were about other duties that morning. Were they away, then?
Frodo stepped into the hallway. Where was the exit, he wondered as his heart thudded loudly in his ears. His eyes had been covered when Monto and Anson had delivered him into Bramblethorn's clutches. He steeled himself and made a right - hand turn down the corridor. It branched off again, and he stood at the junction, peering down one of the hallways. As he stepped into it, an indignant shout shattered the silence and betrayed his flight.
"Hey! Just where do you think you're goin'?" Monto had appeared as if from nowhere and was rapidly closing the distance between himself and Frodo.
Frodo gasped and fled, rushing blindly down the corridor and hoping the exit lay somewhere ahead of him. His hopes were dashed as he came up against a locked door that obviously led someplace other than to the world outside. He was trapped! Frodo grasped the doorknob and rattled it, but it was locked. Wherever the door led, it would not be his salvation. With no other alternative, Frodo turned to face the enemy who approached him.
"How did you get loose?" Monto snarled as he reached out toward Frodo, his face contorted in an ugly sneer. "Don't matter, I s'pose, since I've got you now," he gloated.
"NO!" Frodo cried out in frustration and horror. "Stay away from me!" Frodo struck out against Monto in a desperate attempt to escape capture. The blow landed and Monto lurched backward as Frodo tried to leap past him.
"Like to play rough, do ya?" Monto snared Frodo by one arm and slammed him into the wall. "The boss won't let me play with you, but he don't mind if I teach you a lesson or two," Monto advised as Frodo struggled in his grasp.
"Let go of me!" Frodo cried as he tried to twist away from Monto. Failing in his effort, he sank his teeth into the nearest part of his adversary he could reach.
Monto howled and yanked his arm back, inadvertently releasing Frodo as he did so. Frodo ran back up the corridor and veered off down another. This time, a large, round door loomed ahead of him enticingly. Just as his fingertips brushed the smooth wood, Monto caught him again. The burly hobbit spun Frodo around to face him and delivered a sharp slap to his face.
"I've had enough of you, pretty boy," Monto sneered. "You're more trouble than you're worth, in my opinion." Monto drew back to strike Frodo again. Pinned firmly against the door, Frodo closed his eyes and waited for the blow to fall. Instead, he heard a voice at the end of the hallway.
"Hold, Monto," Bramblethorn commanded as he strode toward them. "Have I not expressed myself well enough with regard to your handling of Frodo?"
"The little rat bit me," Monto said defensively, giving Frodo a hard shake as he spoke.
"Did he now?" Bramblethorn asked calmly as he gave Frodo a measuring look. "Was your breakfast not adequate, love?" he teased. Frodo stiffened.
Growing serious, Bramblethorn regarded his captive. "Will you never learn, Frodo?" he said, shaking his head. "Have you heard not a single word that I've said during our time together?"
"I've heard more than enough!" Frodo shouted. "You want me to submit to you meekly, but I'll not do it!"
"And so you would brave Monto's wrath and my own in your attempt to flee, rather than accept the comfort I offer you?" Bramblethorn's tone held a note of condescension that only fueled Frodo's anger.
"I shall take no comfort in you nor in anything you offer me!" Frodo shot back, pulling his arm out of Monto's grasp. "I hate you and whatever game you're playing, and I'll not be party to it!"
"Your words wound me, my sweet," Bramblethorn said as he fixed Frodo with a sharp gaze. "Perhaps you will be less inclined to speak so harshly after a little time alone." Bramblethorn turned to Monto. "You've done well, Monto, and I thank you. Give him to me, and prepare his room."
Monto gave Frodo a hard shove toward Bramblethorn and he stumbled, straight into Bramblethorn's arms. Bramblethorn held him fast, and whispered into his ear. "You have not kept your promises, Frodo. Therefore, I am released from mine."
Frodo's head spun as Bramblethorn pulled him into the room, and dragged him toward the bed. The courage his anger had provided him was beginning to fade as he contemplated Bramblethorn's words. "Please, don't bind me again!" Frodo heard himself begging and loathed himself for it.
"How can you ask that of me when you have betrayed my trust so thoroughly, love?" Bramblethorn asked as Monto appeared with rope in hand. "I will do what I must to keep you in your place, up to and including binding you."
"You would have done as I did," Frodo reasoned desperately as Monto approached him. "Were you in my place you would try to escape."
"But I am not in your place, Frodo." Bramblethorn reminded him as he pulled Frodo's hands behind him and pressed him face down onto the bed. He nodded to Monto, who happily wrapped the rope around Frodo's wrists again.
"If I were you, boss, I'd put him in the cellar an' let the rats have a nibble," Monto advised, giving a sharp tug on the rope around Frodo's ankles.
Lying face down on the bed, Frodo couldn't see Bramblethorn wink at his henchman. It was show time. "Well, you're not me, are you?" he said, sitting down on the bed and lightly stroking Frodo's hair. "Leave us."
Monto turned and left the room, taking up his post outside again.
"I am sorry, Frodo, believe me." Bramblethorn rolled Frodo onto his side and brushed his fingers across his face, which was already beginning to swell where Monto had struck him. "Did he hurt you?"
"What do you care if he did?" Frodo asked, averting his gaze.
"What do I care?" Bramblethorn echoed, sounding disappointed. "I care more than you realize," he said calmly. "Have I not saved you from further abuse at his hands?"
Frodo ignored the question. "I thought you said he wasn't about," he said shakily.
"I sent him on a few errands this morning. He must have only just returned." Bramblethorn brushed the first of Frodo's tears away even as it fell. "I am sorry you had to encounter him as you did, but you shouldn't have left my side."
"You cannot ask me not to," Frodo said, his voice breaking.
"Bear this in mind, Frodo," Bramblethorn said evenly. "As long as you are with me, you are safe from him. I gave him that colorful eye he's sporting, as you remember, but I will not discharge him from my service. I have warned him quite thoroughly, but - " Bramblethorn trailed off, pulling Frodo close and kissing his forehead.
"Don't let him - " Frodo heard himself say. "Please don't let him touch me again!"
"I shall watch him as closely as I am able, and to my knowledge Anson has no designs upon you." Bramblethorn released Frodo and gently eased him down on the bed again. "But I too must sleep, Frodo. I cannot watch him every minute. You should have remained in my company, and not gone off and provoked him."
"What of you?" Frodo asked. "The last time I escaped from you - "
"The last time you tried something so foolish, I was very angry with you. I am quite disappointed now, I must say." Bramblethorn regarded Frodo sternly. "I must be growing more patient as the years pass me by," he mused. "Either that, or I have grown too fond of you to harm you with my own hands."
"And so you let them," Frodo cried, his voice rising. "You let them strike me, and tear at me!" Fear had replaced anger now, and it was evident in Frodo's eyes.
"Now, now, dear. Hysterics do not become you," Bramblethorn said, secretly pleased to see Frodo unraveling before him. He stood and moved to the door, opened it slightly and said something to Monto. He returned to Frodo, who was weeping openly now, his bound form shaking.
"I've asked for more tea for you, dear." Bramblethorn scooped Frodo up into his arms and held him close. "I shall stay nearby while you rest and calm yourself."
The sight of Monto entering the room bearing a cup of tea made Frodo nearly frantic. He twisted in Bramblethorn's embrace, crying out, "Untie me! Please, in the name of the Valar, release me!"
Bramblethorn continued to hold Frodo as Monto tipped his head back and held his nose, forcing Frodo to open his mouth to draw breath. In an instant the teacup was at his lips and the sedative was administered. "Sweet dreams," Monto said snidely and walked out.
"How - how could you - " Frodo sobbed brokenly.
"Would you have allowed me to give you the tea?" Bramblethorn asked. "Would you have taken it from me? No, Frodo. You are too distraught, my poor dear."
Within minutes, Frodo's sobs became a quieter flow of tears, and his struggles ceased as the drug numbed his senses. He felt himself sinking, drifting away.
Bramblethorn remained for some time, his arms wrapped around Frodo securely. So close, he thought. So close to his victory! He owed Monto a debt it seemed. The more Frodo feared Bramblethorn's bodyguard, the easier it was for Bramblethorn to present himself as a safe harbor in the storm. Just a few more days of this and no contact with that dratted Brandybuck and that foolish gardener, and Frodo should be genuinely glad to see Bramblethorn whenever he appeared.
~*~ Later ~*~
Bramblethorn held Frodo's damaged shirt in his hands, thoughtfully stroking the fabric. An idea came to him. "I know just what to do with this," he muttered to himself. He folded the shirt neatly and wrapped it in tissue paper. He added an outer layer of paper and tied the bundle with a string. He pondered whether or not to send a note, but decided the parcel itself spoke volumes. He inscribed delivery instructions on the outer layer of paper and summoned Anson to bear the parcel to its intended destination.
~*~ To be continued ~*~