Hobbitfeet13 - I had to let Frodo find out that Bramby was behind the misfortunes of Buckland. It was too good an angst opportunity to miss! Sam and Merry will definitely want to skin that nasty hobbit alive when they discover what he's done to Frodo.
Anonymous - I was just asking myself the same question the other day as to why I just refer to our dear villain simply as "Bramblethorn". Perhaps it's due to Frodo's feelings of revulsion and enmity toward him. A refusal to be on a first name basis with such a creature. Sam would be outraged if he saw Frodo and Bramblethorn together, and none of his anger would be directed toward Frodo. He knows very well that Frodo wants nothing to do with that nasty hobbit!
Iorhael - Just like Bramby to blame Frodo for the things that have happened. Frodo is starting to break, whether he realizes it or not. He's torn between fighting and preserving what little safety he has.
FrodoBaggins1982 - It was time Frodo discovered the truth behind the failed harvest. You're right, if Bramby would just tone down the arrogant, possessive, controlling part of his personality he might find someone to genuinely share his affections with. You're right again that Frodo's experiences in his youth were quite different from what Bramblethorn is referring to. For one thing, both participants were, as you said, in the same condition and both were willing. They may have had some regrets or embarrassment afterward, but nobody was hurt. As to Bramblethorn's thoughts, he might very well feel a twinge of something like remorse, knowing that Frodo is miserable with him. It wouldn't last long, though, because it would be followed with the vain assertion that 'he'll come around to my way of thinking, he just needs time'.
Anarie - Frodo endured the kiss for the sake of self - preservation. When faced with the possible alternatives, it seemed the lesser of evils. I haven't determined who the other young hobbit was in the barn with Frodo, but it might make an interesting vignette!
Endymion2 - Bramblethorn is going to start realizing that his time with Frodo may be drawing to a close. It will begin to work on him, certainly. The conversations between Frodo and Bramblethorn are some of my favorite parts of all of this. They're so fun to write!
Trust No One - Monto might be tempted to turn on Bramby from time to time, but the fact is that his greed wins out. He's making a good living by being a tough guy for hire, even if he does have to do some things he doesn't like too well. Sam may not be sure yet that something has happened to Frodo, but he certainly suspects. He knows very well what Bramblethorn has wanted from Frodo. It's the source of a good deal of his fears.
Aelfgifu - I couldn't resist a scene in which Bramblethorn forces Frodo to kiss him. Big angst there. Bramblethorn and your Evil Merry have one thing in common, certainly. They are masters of manipulation!
Stephanie - I felt I needed to clean up the loose end regarding the seeds in the fields. It couldn't remain a mystery for all time. They had to know that Bramblethorn did it. Merry and Sam were too frightened by Bramblethorn's threats and too distrustful of the Big Folk to seek help in Bree. Merry, through his family in Buckland, has heard more of the Bree Folk than Sam has, but he's still a Shire hobbit and the habit of not getting too involved with outsiders is unconsciously sticking with him. There is indeed law and order in Bree, be it the death penalty or otherwise.
Spooasia Tomoe - Bramblethorn is trying every nasty trick in his book. There's more to come, and in this chapter he will revert to more of his old behavior. No more Mr. Nicehobbit. Merry and Sam are nearly to Buckland now, so help will be on the way. The innkeeper knows something is up, and he will have something to do with events in future chapters.
GamgeeFest - Those decisions Bramby forces Frodo to make are just evil. As far as Frodo's youthful tryst in the hayloft, I'm leaving that open. Whoever it was, whether a lad or a lass, you can bet it was consensual. I have to say I don't plan for Monto to betray Bramby at this time, largely because he isn't smart enough to pull it off. He's greedy, and he's been promised a nice retainer for his services, be they what they may. Sam and Merry don't trust Bramblethorn to keep his word in the least.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 17 - Good Morning, My Dear
~*~
Thin rays of light filtered in through a gap in the curtains as the sun rose over Breehill. Bramblethorn was the first to wake, slowly coming to awareness as the darkness in the room began to lift little by little. In the grey dawn his eyes slowly focused and he watched as the growing light began to reveal more of the features of the one who slept on next to him, still wrapped tightly in his arms.
Frodo had lain awake long into the night, Bramblethorn knew. He had waited for the body he held in his arms to relax, for the tense muscles across Frodo's back to soften and the rigidity between the shoulder blades to ease. He had held Frodo close enough to him to feel every breath as if it were his own, and he had succumbed to sleep before he'd had a chance to hear those breaths lengthen and deepen into the even sounds of slumber.
But Frodo slept now, finally exhausted enough to fall into dreams despite the bonds that secured his hands to the bedpost and the arms that encircled him like bonds themselves. His breathing was slow and steady and the dim light of dawn that crept into the room revealed him, lying on his side as Bramblethorn lay spooned closely behind him.
Being careful not to wake Frodo, Bramblethorn slipped quietly from the bed. He made his way to the hearth and pulled one of the armchairs into a position near the bed where he could see Frodo's face. He conquered the temptation to open the curtains further, but waited instead for the newborn sunlight to slip quietly across the room through the small gap between the panels of fabric.
What a lovely sight Frodo was, with his features composed in sleep! Dark curls fell carelessly across the pale skin of his forehead and cheek, and his brows were not drawn together in an expression of fear or apprehension. It was a sight Bramblethorn thought he could grow accustomed to, and he desperately wished for the opportunity to do so.
To wake every day to such a thing was a dream beyond dreaming, a wish beyond any he had ever known. Bramblethorn felt something twist within him painfully as the truth mocked him without mercy. You will not come to see him so each day as you awaken, the voice of reason spoke cruelly. You can bind him, but you cannot bind him to you. His heart belongs to another, and you will not wrest it away with your tricks and your scheming.
"You are not yet mine, are you my love?" Bramblethorn whispered as the sunlight crept across the floor, drawing nearer to the bed. "I have known the shape of you in my arms and the taste of you upon my lips, but I have yet to feel you hold me in return or to have you close your beautiful eyes and kiss me with all of your heart and soul. I have yet to tame you, Frodo Baggins."
A sliver of light now shone upon the floor next to the bed, and Bramblethorn watched it creep slowly toward the still form beneath the blankets. The little ray of sunlight moved slowly, undeterred in its path, until it illuminated one of the dark curls that lay against the pillow, causing it to glow a warm russet. A few minutes more and the light caressed the delicate tip of one ear before touching Frodo's cheek and finally coming to rest upon a closed eyelid.
Frodo stirred, his brows coming together in unconscious irritation at the intrusion of the light. Frodo's head turned slightly and Bramblethorn could imagine that he would have burrowed deeper beneath the covers if he had been able. As it was, with his hands tethered to the bedpost, Frodo could not grip the covers and pull them over his eyes to escape the insistent light. One eye slowly eased open and the other afterward.
"Good morning, my dear," Bramblethorn said quietly.
Frodo looked back at Bramblethorn with a mixture of apprehension and confusion. Why was he waking to find the other hobbit seated beside the bed, merely looking at him? He had fully expected to be awakened by insistent, demanding hands groping at him and heated breath against his throat.
As if reading Frodo's thoughts, Bramblethorn smiled and continued, "I have been watching you sleep, love. I've been watching the morning come to wake you and wishing you would respond to my touch as kindly as you do to that of the sunlight."
Frodo seemed to look right through Bramblethorn as he gazed in the direction of the window. "I want to see it," he whispered. "The sunlight. It's been days -" His voice caught in his throat as he looked toward the source of the beams of light. He realized that the last time he had felt the sun on his face was the final day of his journey to Bree. He had been abducted in a dark alley after nightfall, and imprisoned in a room without windows. Even use of the outdoor privy had been denied him, a chamber pot having been provided instead. The cheerful tendrils of light seemed to beckon to him now as he implored his captor.
"Would you like to look out the window, Frodo?" Bramblethorn knelt by the bedside and brushed a stray curl from Frodo's eyes. "Would that please you?"
"Yes," Frodo said softly. "Very much." Hope surged through him at the thought.
Bramblethorn nodded. He carefully unbound Frodo's hands and drew him to stand beside the bed. With slow steps he led Frodo to the window and tugged the curtains aside to admit the early morning sunlight.
Frodo stood and let the light fall upon his face, let it warm and soothe him as he had done on so many mornings in the Shire. For a moment he could almost believe he was home again, standing at his own window and inhaling the fresh scent of the flowers in the garden. The vision evaporated swiftly as Bramblethorn draped an arm around Frodo's shoulders and spoke.
"I am undecided as to whether you are more pleasing by the light of a fire in the evening or the rays of the sun in the morning," he cooed, giving Frodo's neck a nuzzle.
Frodo shuddered and abruptly lunged away from Bramblethorn. In sheer panic his hands flew to the window latch and he struggled with it desperately as Bramblethorn overpowered him and pulled him away.
A ragged sob burst from Frodo as weariness, fear, and anguish overwhelmed him. Bramblethorn had allowed him to sleep through the night unmolested, but the morning had come and would be followed by another night. How many more days and nights would pass before the ransom was paid and Frodo would be safe once more?
Bramblethorn wrestled Frodo away from the window and held him with his back against a wall. He raised his hand and struck Frodo angrily. "I am at my wits end with you," he growled, striking Frodo again. "You will only be hurt if you fight me."
Frodo sagged against the wall, but remained on his feet. "I shall be hurt whether I fight or not," Frodo responded bleakly.
Bramblethorn stared into Frodo's eyes and saw not the fondness he had dreamt of, but terror and misery. "You will never have feelings for me, will you Frodo?" He regarded Frodo thoughtfully, considering his next move. "If is not my fate to win your heart, I shall settle for your submission." Bramblethorn attempted to kiss Frodo as he had the night before, and Frodo pushed him away.
"No! I will fight you to the very end," he declared through his tears. "I won't let you -"
Bramblethorn snarled and backhanded his captive again, and Frodo slid limply to the floor. "I'm sorry, Frodo, love. You've left me no choice. If you will not return my affections, neither shall you reject them. We must work on that together, you and I."
Bramblethorn opened the door and summoned Anson to bring him some rope. They lifted Frodo's limp form and tied him securely to a chair in the corner. Frodo began to come to a few moments later, as Bramblethorn paced before him as Anson exited the room.
"I'm sorry I had to do that, Frodo," Bramblethorn began, "but you were being difficult."
He stopped pacing and leaned down to tilt Frodo's face upward toward his own. "We must establish one thing between us if nothing else. You are entirely at my mercy. You have no choices, save the ones I am willing to give you. I shall give you one of them now." Bramblethorn smiled down at Frodo who looked blearily back at him. "I know that you do not love me, dear, but you must accept me. You must learn not to resist me any further."
Through his daze Frodo tried to understand the meaning of Bramblethorn's words. Learn not to resist? Bramblethorn, as usual, demanded the impossible.
"Now, we will try it again, love, and keep your choice in mind." Bramblethorn reached out as if to caress Frodo's face and Frodo turned his head quickly to avoid the touch. The hand that had been poised over his face came down and slapped him. "I told you not to resist me, Frodo," Bramblethorn warned grimly. "If you do, you shall be punished."
Bramblethorn reached out again and brushed his fingers across Frodo's neck. Frodo shuddered and closed his eyes. The response was involuntary, purely an act of fear - driven instinct. Bramblethorn slapped him again. "How long must this lesson continue, Frodo?" he asked nastily. "The day is young and I have plenty of time to devote to such teachings."
"You're insane," Frodo breathed, trying to calm himself.
"Am I?" Bramblethorn gripped Frodo's arms and leered at him. "I think you're intelligent as well as desirable, Frodo. I think you will learn that if you wish to avoid pain, you must bear my touch. You will allow me to touch you, and I expect no turning away or straining at your bonds. If you exhibit such behavior, I will strike you again."
Frodo looked at Bramblethorn in horror. Bramblethorn truly meant to break him, to reduce him to cowering compliance in lieu of willing acceptance. Words failed him as Bramblethorn looked down at him with the familiar possessive gleam in his eyes.
"Tell me, Frodo, if accepting my touch is the price of your very survival, will you comply? A drink of water for the price of a caress, or a meal at the cost of a kiss?" Bramblethorn's tone was coldly contemplative.
"Please, you mustn't do this," Frodo pleaded. "It's madness! You demand more than I can give you!" There was anger in his eyes as he looked at his tormentor. "You promised you wouldn't starve me - "
"I promised to do you the favor of providing you with food and drink as long as you behaved yourself properly," Bramblethorn reminded him pedantically. "You have not kept your end of the bargain, my dear."
"I am to be tortured for my resistance, then?" Frodo asked sharply.
"It is you who torture me with your refusal to accept what I offer you," Bramblethorn answered, his ire provoked by Frodo's question. "You shall torment me no more, my love. When I take you in my arms again, you will not fight me. You may not return my affections, but you will be still. Although you will not welcome it, you will allow it."
Frodo was horrified. He could not imagine accepting Bramblethorn's advances without resistance. "I will not allow it! You cannot reduce me to such a state! I shall die before I let you!"
"Will you?" Bramblethorn smirked and ran a finger along the line of Frodo's collar, exposing the hollow of his throat. Frodo writhed in his bonds and received another harsh slap.
"Are you tiring of this game, Frodo?" Bramblethorn asked quietly. "You can end it. You know how. Show me and I shall let you rest." Bramblethorn slowly bent down and pressed his lips to Frodo's throat.
"Stop it!" Frodo cried desperately as Bramblethorn slapped him again. He could feel himself growing weaker and his consciousness beginning to fade again. The strain of the last few days had left his nerves more frayed than he dared to admit, and his voice sounded completely unfamiliar to his own ears as he pleaded.
"I will not stop until you accept my touch," Bramblethorn told Frodo again. He raised his hand as if to strike Frodo again. As Frodo flinched and turned away, Bramblethorn suddenly stopped and trailed his fingers gently across Frodo's neck once more. In sudden relief at the absence of the expected pain, Frodo's tense muscles eased as Bramblethorn touched him, and too late Frodo realized that he had involuntarily done just as Bramblethorn wished.
Grinning at his triumph, Bramblethorn stepped back and laughed. "You see, Frodo? You don't want me to hurt you. Therefore you will eventually give in to me whether you plan to or not."
"No!" Frodo gasped in horror. "You tricked me! I shall never meekly accept the things you want to do to me!"
"We shall see about that my dear," Bramblethorn gloated. "I think you need some time to think about it." Bramblethorn stood behind Frodo and placed his hands on his captive's shoulders. "I shall leave you now, but fear not, love. I shall not leave you entirely without companionship."
Bramblethorn strode to the door and called to Anson, who appeared quickly to answer his employer's call. "I want you to watch over Frodo for a while. If he falls asleep, you have leave to wake him."
Frodo didn't like the tone of Bramblethorn's voice. He could well imagine what Bramblethorn's bodyguard would do in order to rouse him to awareness. His back was to the door, and though he couldn't see Bramblethorn exit, he heard the door close. Footfalls drew nearer and in a moment, Anson stood before him with his arms crossed and a nasty smirk on his face.
"Sleepy?" He asked nastily. "Go ahead. Close your eyes," Anson dared Frodo.
Frodo glowered at him. "I would rather close my ears, since I find it unlikely that you will close your mouth."
The comment earned him a slap as sound as any Bramblethorn had given him. He figured Anson would strike him for sport anyway, so he might as well be deserving of it.
"I can close yours," Anson sneered, producing a cloth from a drawer in the armoire and using it to gag Frodo. "Maybe the boss likes to have long conversations with you, but I don't."
Frodo gave Anson another dirty look, and then locked his gaze upon a knot in the wood of the window frame. He stared at it resolutely as Anson settled himself into a chair and busied himself with a book.
I'm surprised he knows how to read, Frodo thought to himself. Perhaps, if his keeper became absorbed in the book, Frodo might catch a few moments rest before being noticed. After a while he closed his eyes, and his head began to nod. He was jarred back to consciousness as the spine of the book impacted against the back of his skull.
"I'm still watchin' you," Anson told Frodo, waving the book under his nose. "Every time you close your eyes I get to whack you with this. And you know somethin'?" Anson leaned close to Frodo's face. "I'm gonna enjoy it."
~*~
Bramblethorn lit his pipe as he gave Monto his task for the day. "I want you to bring me word of what Brandybuck and the gardener are up to. It's time I communicated with them again, but I need to know if they've managed to get the ransom yet. They must be getting desperate by now."
Bramblethorn didn't think Merry and Sam could procure enough funds to ransom Frodo and buy the grain without help, but he needed to be sure. He had managed to keep Frodo with him this long, and he hoped to prolong the game further. He fully intended to break Frodo before any exchange could be arranged.
Monto left the smial gladly. Let Anson look after the boss' pet for now, he thought as he made his way toward town and the inn where Merry and Sam were lodging. It was about time he was given something more dignified to do than changing bed linens and hunting rats in the cellar.
~*~ To be continued ~*~
Anonymous - I was just asking myself the same question the other day as to why I just refer to our dear villain simply as "Bramblethorn". Perhaps it's due to Frodo's feelings of revulsion and enmity toward him. A refusal to be on a first name basis with such a creature. Sam would be outraged if he saw Frodo and Bramblethorn together, and none of his anger would be directed toward Frodo. He knows very well that Frodo wants nothing to do with that nasty hobbit!
Iorhael - Just like Bramby to blame Frodo for the things that have happened. Frodo is starting to break, whether he realizes it or not. He's torn between fighting and preserving what little safety he has.
FrodoBaggins1982 - It was time Frodo discovered the truth behind the failed harvest. You're right, if Bramby would just tone down the arrogant, possessive, controlling part of his personality he might find someone to genuinely share his affections with. You're right again that Frodo's experiences in his youth were quite different from what Bramblethorn is referring to. For one thing, both participants were, as you said, in the same condition and both were willing. They may have had some regrets or embarrassment afterward, but nobody was hurt. As to Bramblethorn's thoughts, he might very well feel a twinge of something like remorse, knowing that Frodo is miserable with him. It wouldn't last long, though, because it would be followed with the vain assertion that 'he'll come around to my way of thinking, he just needs time'.
Anarie - Frodo endured the kiss for the sake of self - preservation. When faced with the possible alternatives, it seemed the lesser of evils. I haven't determined who the other young hobbit was in the barn with Frodo, but it might make an interesting vignette!
Endymion2 - Bramblethorn is going to start realizing that his time with Frodo may be drawing to a close. It will begin to work on him, certainly. The conversations between Frodo and Bramblethorn are some of my favorite parts of all of this. They're so fun to write!
Trust No One - Monto might be tempted to turn on Bramby from time to time, but the fact is that his greed wins out. He's making a good living by being a tough guy for hire, even if he does have to do some things he doesn't like too well. Sam may not be sure yet that something has happened to Frodo, but he certainly suspects. He knows very well what Bramblethorn has wanted from Frodo. It's the source of a good deal of his fears.
Aelfgifu - I couldn't resist a scene in which Bramblethorn forces Frodo to kiss him. Big angst there. Bramblethorn and your Evil Merry have one thing in common, certainly. They are masters of manipulation!
Stephanie - I felt I needed to clean up the loose end regarding the seeds in the fields. It couldn't remain a mystery for all time. They had to know that Bramblethorn did it. Merry and Sam were too frightened by Bramblethorn's threats and too distrustful of the Big Folk to seek help in Bree. Merry, through his family in Buckland, has heard more of the Bree Folk than Sam has, but he's still a Shire hobbit and the habit of not getting too involved with outsiders is unconsciously sticking with him. There is indeed law and order in Bree, be it the death penalty or otherwise.
Spooasia Tomoe - Bramblethorn is trying every nasty trick in his book. There's more to come, and in this chapter he will revert to more of his old behavior. No more Mr. Nicehobbit. Merry and Sam are nearly to Buckland now, so help will be on the way. The innkeeper knows something is up, and he will have something to do with events in future chapters.
GamgeeFest - Those decisions Bramby forces Frodo to make are just evil. As far as Frodo's youthful tryst in the hayloft, I'm leaving that open. Whoever it was, whether a lad or a lass, you can bet it was consensual. I have to say I don't plan for Monto to betray Bramby at this time, largely because he isn't smart enough to pull it off. He's greedy, and he's been promised a nice retainer for his services, be they what they may. Sam and Merry don't trust Bramblethorn to keep his word in the least.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 17 - Good Morning, My Dear
~*~
Thin rays of light filtered in through a gap in the curtains as the sun rose over Breehill. Bramblethorn was the first to wake, slowly coming to awareness as the darkness in the room began to lift little by little. In the grey dawn his eyes slowly focused and he watched as the growing light began to reveal more of the features of the one who slept on next to him, still wrapped tightly in his arms.
Frodo had lain awake long into the night, Bramblethorn knew. He had waited for the body he held in his arms to relax, for the tense muscles across Frodo's back to soften and the rigidity between the shoulder blades to ease. He had held Frodo close enough to him to feel every breath as if it were his own, and he had succumbed to sleep before he'd had a chance to hear those breaths lengthen and deepen into the even sounds of slumber.
But Frodo slept now, finally exhausted enough to fall into dreams despite the bonds that secured his hands to the bedpost and the arms that encircled him like bonds themselves. His breathing was slow and steady and the dim light of dawn that crept into the room revealed him, lying on his side as Bramblethorn lay spooned closely behind him.
Being careful not to wake Frodo, Bramblethorn slipped quietly from the bed. He made his way to the hearth and pulled one of the armchairs into a position near the bed where he could see Frodo's face. He conquered the temptation to open the curtains further, but waited instead for the newborn sunlight to slip quietly across the room through the small gap between the panels of fabric.
What a lovely sight Frodo was, with his features composed in sleep! Dark curls fell carelessly across the pale skin of his forehead and cheek, and his brows were not drawn together in an expression of fear or apprehension. It was a sight Bramblethorn thought he could grow accustomed to, and he desperately wished for the opportunity to do so.
To wake every day to such a thing was a dream beyond dreaming, a wish beyond any he had ever known. Bramblethorn felt something twist within him painfully as the truth mocked him without mercy. You will not come to see him so each day as you awaken, the voice of reason spoke cruelly. You can bind him, but you cannot bind him to you. His heart belongs to another, and you will not wrest it away with your tricks and your scheming.
"You are not yet mine, are you my love?" Bramblethorn whispered as the sunlight crept across the floor, drawing nearer to the bed. "I have known the shape of you in my arms and the taste of you upon my lips, but I have yet to feel you hold me in return or to have you close your beautiful eyes and kiss me with all of your heart and soul. I have yet to tame you, Frodo Baggins."
A sliver of light now shone upon the floor next to the bed, and Bramblethorn watched it creep slowly toward the still form beneath the blankets. The little ray of sunlight moved slowly, undeterred in its path, until it illuminated one of the dark curls that lay against the pillow, causing it to glow a warm russet. A few minutes more and the light caressed the delicate tip of one ear before touching Frodo's cheek and finally coming to rest upon a closed eyelid.
Frodo stirred, his brows coming together in unconscious irritation at the intrusion of the light. Frodo's head turned slightly and Bramblethorn could imagine that he would have burrowed deeper beneath the covers if he had been able. As it was, with his hands tethered to the bedpost, Frodo could not grip the covers and pull them over his eyes to escape the insistent light. One eye slowly eased open and the other afterward.
"Good morning, my dear," Bramblethorn said quietly.
Frodo looked back at Bramblethorn with a mixture of apprehension and confusion. Why was he waking to find the other hobbit seated beside the bed, merely looking at him? He had fully expected to be awakened by insistent, demanding hands groping at him and heated breath against his throat.
As if reading Frodo's thoughts, Bramblethorn smiled and continued, "I have been watching you sleep, love. I've been watching the morning come to wake you and wishing you would respond to my touch as kindly as you do to that of the sunlight."
Frodo seemed to look right through Bramblethorn as he gazed in the direction of the window. "I want to see it," he whispered. "The sunlight. It's been days -" His voice caught in his throat as he looked toward the source of the beams of light. He realized that the last time he had felt the sun on his face was the final day of his journey to Bree. He had been abducted in a dark alley after nightfall, and imprisoned in a room without windows. Even use of the outdoor privy had been denied him, a chamber pot having been provided instead. The cheerful tendrils of light seemed to beckon to him now as he implored his captor.
"Would you like to look out the window, Frodo?" Bramblethorn knelt by the bedside and brushed a stray curl from Frodo's eyes. "Would that please you?"
"Yes," Frodo said softly. "Very much." Hope surged through him at the thought.
Bramblethorn nodded. He carefully unbound Frodo's hands and drew him to stand beside the bed. With slow steps he led Frodo to the window and tugged the curtains aside to admit the early morning sunlight.
Frodo stood and let the light fall upon his face, let it warm and soothe him as he had done on so many mornings in the Shire. For a moment he could almost believe he was home again, standing at his own window and inhaling the fresh scent of the flowers in the garden. The vision evaporated swiftly as Bramblethorn draped an arm around Frodo's shoulders and spoke.
"I am undecided as to whether you are more pleasing by the light of a fire in the evening or the rays of the sun in the morning," he cooed, giving Frodo's neck a nuzzle.
Frodo shuddered and abruptly lunged away from Bramblethorn. In sheer panic his hands flew to the window latch and he struggled with it desperately as Bramblethorn overpowered him and pulled him away.
A ragged sob burst from Frodo as weariness, fear, and anguish overwhelmed him. Bramblethorn had allowed him to sleep through the night unmolested, but the morning had come and would be followed by another night. How many more days and nights would pass before the ransom was paid and Frodo would be safe once more?
Bramblethorn wrestled Frodo away from the window and held him with his back against a wall. He raised his hand and struck Frodo angrily. "I am at my wits end with you," he growled, striking Frodo again. "You will only be hurt if you fight me."
Frodo sagged against the wall, but remained on his feet. "I shall be hurt whether I fight or not," Frodo responded bleakly.
Bramblethorn stared into Frodo's eyes and saw not the fondness he had dreamt of, but terror and misery. "You will never have feelings for me, will you Frodo?" He regarded Frodo thoughtfully, considering his next move. "If is not my fate to win your heart, I shall settle for your submission." Bramblethorn attempted to kiss Frodo as he had the night before, and Frodo pushed him away.
"No! I will fight you to the very end," he declared through his tears. "I won't let you -"
Bramblethorn snarled and backhanded his captive again, and Frodo slid limply to the floor. "I'm sorry, Frodo, love. You've left me no choice. If you will not return my affections, neither shall you reject them. We must work on that together, you and I."
Bramblethorn opened the door and summoned Anson to bring him some rope. They lifted Frodo's limp form and tied him securely to a chair in the corner. Frodo began to come to a few moments later, as Bramblethorn paced before him as Anson exited the room.
"I'm sorry I had to do that, Frodo," Bramblethorn began, "but you were being difficult."
He stopped pacing and leaned down to tilt Frodo's face upward toward his own. "We must establish one thing between us if nothing else. You are entirely at my mercy. You have no choices, save the ones I am willing to give you. I shall give you one of them now." Bramblethorn smiled down at Frodo who looked blearily back at him. "I know that you do not love me, dear, but you must accept me. You must learn not to resist me any further."
Through his daze Frodo tried to understand the meaning of Bramblethorn's words. Learn not to resist? Bramblethorn, as usual, demanded the impossible.
"Now, we will try it again, love, and keep your choice in mind." Bramblethorn reached out as if to caress Frodo's face and Frodo turned his head quickly to avoid the touch. The hand that had been poised over his face came down and slapped him. "I told you not to resist me, Frodo," Bramblethorn warned grimly. "If you do, you shall be punished."
Bramblethorn reached out again and brushed his fingers across Frodo's neck. Frodo shuddered and closed his eyes. The response was involuntary, purely an act of fear - driven instinct. Bramblethorn slapped him again. "How long must this lesson continue, Frodo?" he asked nastily. "The day is young and I have plenty of time to devote to such teachings."
"You're insane," Frodo breathed, trying to calm himself.
"Am I?" Bramblethorn gripped Frodo's arms and leered at him. "I think you're intelligent as well as desirable, Frodo. I think you will learn that if you wish to avoid pain, you must bear my touch. You will allow me to touch you, and I expect no turning away or straining at your bonds. If you exhibit such behavior, I will strike you again."
Frodo looked at Bramblethorn in horror. Bramblethorn truly meant to break him, to reduce him to cowering compliance in lieu of willing acceptance. Words failed him as Bramblethorn looked down at him with the familiar possessive gleam in his eyes.
"Tell me, Frodo, if accepting my touch is the price of your very survival, will you comply? A drink of water for the price of a caress, or a meal at the cost of a kiss?" Bramblethorn's tone was coldly contemplative.
"Please, you mustn't do this," Frodo pleaded. "It's madness! You demand more than I can give you!" There was anger in his eyes as he looked at his tormentor. "You promised you wouldn't starve me - "
"I promised to do you the favor of providing you with food and drink as long as you behaved yourself properly," Bramblethorn reminded him pedantically. "You have not kept your end of the bargain, my dear."
"I am to be tortured for my resistance, then?" Frodo asked sharply.
"It is you who torture me with your refusal to accept what I offer you," Bramblethorn answered, his ire provoked by Frodo's question. "You shall torment me no more, my love. When I take you in my arms again, you will not fight me. You may not return my affections, but you will be still. Although you will not welcome it, you will allow it."
Frodo was horrified. He could not imagine accepting Bramblethorn's advances without resistance. "I will not allow it! You cannot reduce me to such a state! I shall die before I let you!"
"Will you?" Bramblethorn smirked and ran a finger along the line of Frodo's collar, exposing the hollow of his throat. Frodo writhed in his bonds and received another harsh slap.
"Are you tiring of this game, Frodo?" Bramblethorn asked quietly. "You can end it. You know how. Show me and I shall let you rest." Bramblethorn slowly bent down and pressed his lips to Frodo's throat.
"Stop it!" Frodo cried desperately as Bramblethorn slapped him again. He could feel himself growing weaker and his consciousness beginning to fade again. The strain of the last few days had left his nerves more frayed than he dared to admit, and his voice sounded completely unfamiliar to his own ears as he pleaded.
"I will not stop until you accept my touch," Bramblethorn told Frodo again. He raised his hand as if to strike Frodo again. As Frodo flinched and turned away, Bramblethorn suddenly stopped and trailed his fingers gently across Frodo's neck once more. In sudden relief at the absence of the expected pain, Frodo's tense muscles eased as Bramblethorn touched him, and too late Frodo realized that he had involuntarily done just as Bramblethorn wished.
Grinning at his triumph, Bramblethorn stepped back and laughed. "You see, Frodo? You don't want me to hurt you. Therefore you will eventually give in to me whether you plan to or not."
"No!" Frodo gasped in horror. "You tricked me! I shall never meekly accept the things you want to do to me!"
"We shall see about that my dear," Bramblethorn gloated. "I think you need some time to think about it." Bramblethorn stood behind Frodo and placed his hands on his captive's shoulders. "I shall leave you now, but fear not, love. I shall not leave you entirely without companionship."
Bramblethorn strode to the door and called to Anson, who appeared quickly to answer his employer's call. "I want you to watch over Frodo for a while. If he falls asleep, you have leave to wake him."
Frodo didn't like the tone of Bramblethorn's voice. He could well imagine what Bramblethorn's bodyguard would do in order to rouse him to awareness. His back was to the door, and though he couldn't see Bramblethorn exit, he heard the door close. Footfalls drew nearer and in a moment, Anson stood before him with his arms crossed and a nasty smirk on his face.
"Sleepy?" He asked nastily. "Go ahead. Close your eyes," Anson dared Frodo.
Frodo glowered at him. "I would rather close my ears, since I find it unlikely that you will close your mouth."
The comment earned him a slap as sound as any Bramblethorn had given him. He figured Anson would strike him for sport anyway, so he might as well be deserving of it.
"I can close yours," Anson sneered, producing a cloth from a drawer in the armoire and using it to gag Frodo. "Maybe the boss likes to have long conversations with you, but I don't."
Frodo gave Anson another dirty look, and then locked his gaze upon a knot in the wood of the window frame. He stared at it resolutely as Anson settled himself into a chair and busied himself with a book.
I'm surprised he knows how to read, Frodo thought to himself. Perhaps, if his keeper became absorbed in the book, Frodo might catch a few moments rest before being noticed. After a while he closed his eyes, and his head began to nod. He was jarred back to consciousness as the spine of the book impacted against the back of his skull.
"I'm still watchin' you," Anson told Frodo, waving the book under his nose. "Every time you close your eyes I get to whack you with this. And you know somethin'?" Anson leaned close to Frodo's face. "I'm gonna enjoy it."
~*~
Bramblethorn lit his pipe as he gave Monto his task for the day. "I want you to bring me word of what Brandybuck and the gardener are up to. It's time I communicated with them again, but I need to know if they've managed to get the ransom yet. They must be getting desperate by now."
Bramblethorn didn't think Merry and Sam could procure enough funds to ransom Frodo and buy the grain without help, but he needed to be sure. He had managed to keep Frodo with him this long, and he hoped to prolong the game further. He fully intended to break Frodo before any exchange could be arranged.
Monto left the smial gladly. Let Anson look after the boss' pet for now, he thought as he made his way toward town and the inn where Merry and Sam were lodging. It was about time he was given something more dignified to do than changing bed linens and hunting rats in the cellar.
~*~ To be continued ~*~