Trust No One - Bramblethorn is beginning to realize that he will indeed have a very tough time giving Frodo up. In a few chapters you'll get to see if Darien is help or hindrance.

Spootasia Toemoe - Help is on the way, but it's definitely a race against time. That letter will definitely cause some serious angst on the receiving end.

Shelbyshire - What is it with us and the things we allow to happen to Frodo? He's certainly endured a lot here. Any normal hobbit would be absolutely lost by now. Of course, Frodo isn't your average hobbit!

Anarie - That was a horrible thing for Bramblethorn to do, but he did it all for effect. Imagine the reaction! Sam and Merry have ample reason to want to boot Bramby with all their might.

GamgeeFest - Bramblethorn will continue his nasty tricks, and will grow more and more frustrated with Frodo's continuing to refuse him. Darien intends to get all the information directly from Merry and Sam. After all, who else knows the entire story? They'll have to 'fess up about it sooner or later.

Hobbitfeet13 - Yes, that was purely nasty of Bramblethorn to use Frodo's blood as ink. Not, as you said, a very good substance to write with, but how better to make a terrible threat? After having Monto watch over him, perhaps Frodo will almost be glad to see Bramblethorn again. And perhaps not. You and Merimac keep growling!

Breon Briarwood - Frodo's state upon Merry and Sam's return depends on how carefully he balances his defiance against Bramblethorn's ruthlessness. We've seen Bramblethorn have moments where he takes pity on his captive. Will he soften and do it again?

Endymion2 - Bramblethorn really should move Frodo somewhere else, but where? That's one of his greatest flaws is overconfidence. I wondered if anyone would remember old Ned, since we haven't seen him since the early chapters. He's one of the master farmers in Buckland who helped with the removal of the weed from the fields.

Sam - I enjoyed writing the description of Frodo's waking in the chapter you mention. It was fun because we were seeing it through Bramblethorn's eyes. Ahh, Frodo. Lovely, isn't he?

Iorhael - For some reason I am unable to see your last review. Weird! Even in my email the entire message isn't coming through. Thanks for being there, though!

Angelica - Thank you for your comments about the portrayal of Bramblethorn. When I first thought him up for "In Safekeeping", I didn't know what a creature I'd created. It took some pondering to discover that he was something more than a single - use villain. You're right. Although he may believe he loves Frodo, that emotion is being sullied by the desire to own and control him. Sam may not want to admit that he's certain something has happened to Frodo, but I agree that he knows instinctively. He wants so desperately to be wrong, though. There will be healing and comfort later in this tale. I hadn't planned an entire separate follow up story for that purpose, but I'll bring it into this one.

Camellia Gamgee - Took - Merimac has spunk, doesn't he? The idea for the letter in blood came from the question, "what is the most awful thing Bramblethorn could show Sam and Merry without showing them Frodo himself?"

Aratlithiel1 - Bramblethorn keeps it coming, but so does Frodo. He won't give up, not ever. That's one of the things we all love about him!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Chapter 19 - Rewards and Punishments

~*~ Buckland, pre-dawn ~*~

"Are you ready, Mr. Merry?" Sam asked quietly. Merry had washed up and rested while his father, his uncle Mac and Ned the Master Farmer prepared for the journey. Sam had allowed himself the luxury of a bath and a hot meal as well, and now stood waiting to depart. Every moment away from Frodo was more agonizing than the last, and the sooner they were on their way, the better he would feel.

Merry nodded and shouldered a pack of food that had been made ready for the journey. He and Sam walked out into the courtyard where Saradoc was settling a team of ponies into their harness and Mac was loading supplies into the large wagon. Esmeralda Brandybuck, Mistress of Buckland, stood nearby, holding a lantern and watching the proceedings. As Merry approached, she set the lantern down and clasped him tightly in a lingering hug.

"Be safe," she said, fighting back tears.

"I'll do my best," Merry replied as he returned the embrace. "We shall be fine, all of us," he reassured his mother. "And we shall bring Frodo home."

Ned ambled up to the wagon with a half bale of hay and hefted it in behind the driver's seat. "For the ponies," he explained. "If we're to ask of them what I think we are, it would be no fair reward to make them eat scrub and weeds at the roadside."

"Well thought, good fellow," Saradoc said with a nod. The ponies would have brief rests along the way, but for the most part the hobbits planned to travel at a constant pace. They would stop to prepare meals, but otherwise they would be on the move.

"All is ready here," Mac commented as he took Merry's pack and added it to the supplies in the back of the wagon. As Merry climbed up into the front of the wagon, Mac shook his head dismissively. "In the back with you, now. You're to rest for at least the first leg of the journey."

Merry tried to protest but Mac pointed at the back of the wagon where some blankets had been rolled out. "Go aft, my boy. No arguments."

"It's not a ship, Uncle Mac," Merry sighed, but he obeyed. Sam climbed in afterward and settled himself among the various bags and pack, his back against the hay bale.

Saradoc appeared at the side of the wagon and handed a small, sturdy sack to Merry. "You shall be the keeper of this, for now."

Coins jingled in the bag and Merry peered inside. The ransom was there, and all in gold coins of higher value to minimize the weight. A surge of anger flooded through him. How he wished he could dare to go to the keepers of the laws of Bree for help! He had very nearly done so, but the image of Frodo with the knife at his throat prevented him. Bramblethorn was obviously well off now, and he would survive without the ransom. His sole purpose in all of this was to cause suffering, whether it meant Frodo's life or not.

"I leave the Hall in your capable hands, Esme," Saradoc said to his wife and gave her a lingering kiss. "If any of those apprentices fail to acknowledge your authority, I shall have their hides upon my return."

"They'll behave themselves, I'm certain," Esmeralda said, the hint of a smile in her eyes.

Saradoc squeezed his wife's hand once more in farewell and climbed up into the seat of the wagon. "Move over, you old sailor," he berated Merimac. "You know precisely naught about driving a team of ponies."

Merimac gave him an injured look that quickly turned instead to amusement. "And you'd not know your elbow from your arse aboard aught that floats!"

Merry chuckled in spite of his dire mood, and explained to Sam, "We Brandybucks are an odd lot by some folks' reckoning, I suppose."

"I mean no offense by it, Mr. Merry, but I'd say perhaps that's so," Sam acknowledged, still finding the concept of hobbits plying the waters of the Brandywine and even the sea itself to be extraordinary.

"Get ready to hear a good bit of well - meant verbal scuffling between my father and Mac," Merry said, shaking his head. "They're as alike as can be in some ways, but they'll peck at each other for sport the entire time, like as not."

"That is quite enough out of you, Meriadoc," Mac said with a wink. "A little respect for your elders if you please."

"Yes, sir!" Merry responded crisply. He pulled a rolled up blanket out of a corner of the wagon and pillowed his head against it, preparing to sleep for a while. He wanted to be well - rested and fully awake when they reached Bree. If he had to deal with Bramblethorn again, he wanted to be at his full strength at the time.

Sam followed suit, deciding that some rest would do him a bit of good. There was nothing more to be done for the moment at any rate. The wagon rattled away from the Hall and headed for Bree at the fastest pace the ponies could manage under Saradoc's expert guidance.

~*~ Bree ~*~

The sun was rising, Frodo noted dimly as he fought to keep his eyes open. As night had fallen, Monto had replaced Anson as Frodo's tormentor and had done his job well, striking Frodo with perverse glee every time his eyes closed for longer than a mere blink. Frodo was desperate for rest after so many hours of forced wakefulness. Hunger and thirst nagged at him, urging him to bear Bramblethorn's attentions in stillness, to give in and accept those hands upon him and ease the agonizing emptiness of his stomach.

At least one thing had been seen to in the night. Monto had allowed Frodo a short trip to the room where the chamber pot awaited, and Frodo had been able to relieve himself of the painful aching in his bladder. He had attempted to take advantage of his brief privacy and had lain down on the floor for a few moments. Frodo had fallen asleep instantly, and it had been terrible when Monto had burst into the room and awakened him harshly. Frodo could still hear Monto's words echoing in his mind. 'I knew you'd try somethin' like that,' he had crowed. 'I ain't stupid, pretty boy.'

Frodo had longed to respond with a statement to the contrary, but Monto had gagged him again before he could speak. It was just as well, since the result would have undoubtedly been unpleasant.

Now, as the sun crept into the room, Frodo's eyes fell shut and refused to open. Monto slapped Frodo hard enough to make the chair move another inch away from the window. "The best part about teachin' you your lesson is that you don't ever learn it," Monto said nastily. Frodo had lost count of how many times he had been slapped awake during the course of the night.

Bramblethorn walked into the room with a flask of water in his hand. He placed it on the table and nodded to Monto. "He's not slept, has he?"

"Not a bit," Monto replied. "He's tried to, though. You'd think he'd get tired of getting whacked every few minutes."

"You may be excused, Monto," Bramblethorn said as he began to unbind Frodo. "Frodo and I would like some privacy."

Monto departed as Frodo sank limply to the floor. Bramblethorn walked to the table and retrieved the flask of water. He helped Frodo to sit up and held the water just out of reach. "You want this, don't you? I think you want it very much."

Frodo wanted to shout an endless string of vile epithets at Bramblethorn, but the only thing that escaped him was a single word, spoken weakly through parched lips. "Yes."

Frodo reached for the water in desperation, but Bramblethorn moved it farther away. "Remember, Frodo. You must earn it as I told you before." Bramblethorn gathered Frodo into his arms and met with no resistance beyond a broken sob.

"Please! I can't stand any more," Frodo pleaded through his tears. He was nearly delirious from lack of sleep. "I shall not ask you to let me go, for I know you never will," Frodo said shakily. "But please, stop hurting me!"

"Oh, Frodo, my love," Bramblethorn cooed as he stroked Frodo's hair. "I don't want to hurt you, but you leave me no choice. Will you not ease your own pain and do as I ask?"

"And what do you ask?" Frodo inquired in a voice edged with panic and despair.

"I shall give you the water, but you must let me hold you while you drink." Bramblethorn held up the flask again as he pulled Frodo closer. Frodo's body seemed to be operating separately from his mind, and he felt himself nodding. Bramblethorn settled Frodo's back against his chest as he sat on the rug. He brought the water within Frodo's reach and Frodo grasped it eagerly and began to drink, easing his overwhelming thirst.

"Easy, my dear," Bramblehorn cautioned. "Slowly. You mustn't choke, after all." Frodo drained the flask to the last drop as Bramblethorn embraced him.

"More," Frodo pleaded as Bramblethorn took the empty flask from his bandaged hand.

Bramblethorn cuddled Frodo happily as he spoke. "That is all for now, love. Do you feel better?"

"I'm tired," Frodo whispered as his eyes fell closed again. "So very tired."

"Of course you are," Bramblethorn acknowledged. "And you may sleep now, my dear." Bramblethorn lifted Frodo from the floor and all but carried him to the bed. He allowed Frodo to lie down and brushed the stray curls from his eyes. "But first, you must give me a good night kiss."

Frodo's disconnected mind forgot that protests should come before all else and he muttered, "It's morning."

"A minor detail, my sweet." Bramblethorn leaned down and kissed Frodo's lips tenderly. Frodo lay unmoving, very nearly asleep already. "I told you that you would cease to resist me," he whispered, pleased with Frodo's compliance. "I am rewarding you, Frodo. You learn quickly."

Frodo didn't answer. His eyes were closed and he sank into the blessed oblivion that had been violently denied him through the previous day and night.

"Yes, love. Sleep," Bramblethorn said, pulling Frodo close again. "Sleep here in my arms where you belong, where you should have been so very long ago."

Bramblethorn was elated with his success. If it took weakening Frodo by these methods to make him comply, so be it. Of course, he couldn't keep Frodo in such a state constantly. It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying to have him if Frodo were unconscious at the time. Bramblethorn wanted to feel Frodo's skin beneath his hands and to know that Frodo felt his touch. Fear would keep Frodo from fighting him then, fear of punishment for struggling or denying such attentions.

The tactics were already working, Bramblethorn thought as he thrilled to the warmth of the body in his arms. Frodo had said he would no longer ask to be freed, just not to be hurt. Bramblethorn frowned to himself as he considered. To free Frodo, to simply let him go and disappear into the world again was becoming more and more difficult to contemplate. The ransom would be a fine addition to Bramblethorn's wealth, but what price the presence of this beautiful being in his arms? What would it cost him to see Frodo leave him, forever more than likely?

"We still have time," Bramblethorn whispered to the somnolent figure next to him. "The game is not over yet." Perhaps tonight, Bramblethorn thought, or maybe the day after. One more time together at least, come what may. If he did indeed give Frodo up, he would have the memory of him. The memory of deep blue eyes and soft, pale skin, of quickened breaths and wordless exclamations. Yes, one more time but without the need for force, just calm reminders of punishments past to bring compliance if not passionate reciprocation.

Bramblethorn eventually drifted off to sleep himself, his arms still wrapped tightly around the one he desired so greatly.

~*~ Later that afternoon ~*~

Bramblethorn woke late in the day to find that Frodo was still sleeping. It wasn't surprising, really. Frodo had been denied sleep for many hours and would likely rest for some time to come if left to his own devices. Bramblethorn slipped silently from the bed and found the strips of cloth he had used to bind Frodo earlier. He secured his prisoner again, noting as he did that the bandages covering Frodo's rat bites needed changing again, as well as the bandage covering the cut on his hand. Frodo slept on through the entire process.

The day had been encouraging for Bramblethorn, and he hoped the evening would be no less so. Perhaps the promise of something to eat would rouse Frodo from his slumber. Bramblethorn didn't think it would be entirely to his advantage to allow Frodo to become too well - rested just yet. Better that he still be somewhat weary and less inclined to argue.

In the kitchen, Bramblethorn prepared more of the stuffed mushrooms he and Frodo had enjoyed the night they had first dined together. They smelled wonderful as they cooked, and Bramblethorn couldn't imagine Frodo being able to resist them after missing several meals. He believed he knew just how to use them to achieve his ends.

While the mushrooms were cooking, Bramblethorn prepared more bandages and heated water to cleanse Frodo's wounds once again. It occurred to him that it was a good thing Frodo had not been gagged when he was in the cellar. Had he been unable to make himself heard when he screamed for help, his condition might have been much worse.

Bramblethorn tucked the bandages into the pocket of his breeches and put the mushrooms and other items on a tray. As he entered the room and placed the tray upon the table, he was pleased to see that the aroma of the tasty mushrooms was indeed causing Frodo to wake. "Are you feeling more rested, love?"

The only answer was a small groan as Frodo closed his eyes again.

"We must see to those bandages of yours before all else," Bramblethorn said idly as he tilted the kettle and poured water into the bowl. He approached the bed with the water, towel and soap, and began to remove the bandages covering the rat bites on Frodo's feet and legs.

Frodo twitched as the soapy water stung in the wounds. Bramblethorn worked his way upward until he reached Frodo's hands. He unbound them and changed the bandages, attempting to further rouse Frodo with discussion of a topic that should be of particular interest. "Can you smell them, Frodo?" he asked as he wrapped the bandage around Frodo's palm. "I've brought mushrooms, since I know you enjoy them so."

Frodo finally spoke, hardly daring to believe that his hunger was to be eased by the very one who had caused it. "I'm hungry," Frodo muttered thickly. "Will you let me eat or is this another means you devised to torment me?"

Bramblethorn laughed. "I shall indeed allow you to have them, provided you are willing to do your part."

"My part?" Frodo said in confusion. There was something about Bramblethorn's words that made him very uneasy.

"Yes, dearest," Bramblethorn answered, retrieving the tray from the table. He seated himself next to Frodo on the bed and held up a plump, juicy mushroom to inspect it. "As with the water and the lovely nap you've enjoyed, you must earn this by doing as I bid you."

"How can you do this to me?" Frodo asked incredulously. The few hours of sleep he had been allowed had restored him somewhat and he balked at the thought of what Bramblethorn might be suggesting.

"How can you do this to yourself?" Bramblethorn shot back, popping the mushroom into his mouth. "If you co - operate, you shall enjoy these lovely mushrooms. If you refuse, you shall remain hungry."

Frodo wondered apprehensively what it was that Bramblethorn required of him now. He hadn't long to wait before he learned what the other hobbit had planned. Bramblethorn waved a mushroom under Frodo's nose and as Frodo moved to grab it, Bramblethorn grabbed his wrist. He unbuttoned the cuff of the shirt Frodo wore and surrendered the mushroom to his hungry captive. Hunger won out over fear for the moment as Frodo all but swallowed the mushroom whole.

Bramblethorn chuckled. "There are more where that one came from, my dear." He succeeded in unbuttoning Frodo's other cuff and gave him another mushroom. Frodo barely noticed what Bramblethorn was up to, so intent was he upon the food. His stomach growled, pleading for more.

Frodo realized with a start that Bramblethorn's hands had moved to his collar and were now undoing the top button of his shirt. He flinched and tried to brush the hands away, and Bramblethorn favored him with a warning look. "For every button, I will give you a mushroom. Otherwise, you shall have none. You are hungry, aren't you, Frodo?"

Frodo's stomach twisted painfully. He was terribly hungry and he found he couldn't tear his gaze from the mushrooms on the tray. As he stared at them, Bramblethorn managed to finish with the button. "You see, Frodo? It's quite simple." He leaned close and fed Frodo a mushroom. "Buttons for mushrooms. Just buttons, love. That is all." He spoke in a near whisper and Frodo continued to be nearly mesmerized by the sight and smell of his first food in a day and a half.

Another button, another mushroom. Before Frodo's mind began to get the better of his stomach, Bramblethorn had completed the task of unfastening the second and third buttons.



Instinct awoke and asserted itself. Frodo gasped and twisted away. What if Bramblethorn failed to stop with the shirt? "NO! By Elbereth, you shall not touch me again!"

"Oh, but I shall, Frodo," Bramblethorn promised, capturing Frodo in a firm grip and fixing him with a stern look. "And you shall bear it, or you shall bear the consequences of your refusal." Bramblethorn indicated the remaining mushrooms on the tray. "You have eaten so little, my love. Do you wish to remain hungry then?"

Frodo felt tears of frustration building and preparing to flow from him. Bramblethorn would withhold food, drink and rest from him until he simply gave up and allowed himself to be taken. There was no escape possible from the horrors that awaited him. "How can you be so cruel? You profess your feelings for me and yet you seek to destroy me."

"I do not wish to destroy you, Frodo, I merely desire you," Bramblethorn explained. "We both know I shall have you one way or another. It is up to you whether I am gentle or whether I am forced to harm you. Do not make me harm you again."

Frodo's composure was completely shattered at the thought of Bramblethorn forcing him a second time. "Please, I beg you!" he sobbed in despair. "Spare me the act you speak of!"

Bramblethorn gazed at the trembling, pleading figure before him. He still gripped both of Frodo's wrists tightly, and Frodo hung his head in shame as his tears fell. "You are quite undone, aren't you my dear?" He examined Frodo thoughtfully. "Have I broken you at last?"

Frodo could not bring himself to answer immediately. He finally raised his eyes to Bramblethorn's and whispered, "Is that what you want? Do you want me to surrender all hope and will to live?"

Something in Frodo's eyes silenced Bramblethorn's intended reply. Or was it something that was not in them? The beautiful light that had mesmerized Bramblethorn the first time he had seen Frodo and looked into his eyes was all but absent now. It was but a dim flicker, hidden behind fear and pain.

Bramblethorn released Frodo's wrists and touched his face softly. "No, love. I do not wish you to surrender all that you speak of, but will you not surrender even the slightest part? I promise I shall not hurt you now."

Frodo rubbed at his wrists and tried to calm himself as Bramblethorn brought the food within his reach. "Eat, Frodo. Let your hunger be eased."

Despite his emotional state, which would normally have caused his appetite to disappear entirely, Frodo did as he was told. Here, finally, was one command of Bramblethorn's he would gladly obey.

Bramblethorn made no more aggressive moves, but merely sat beside Frodo, rubbing his back. He realized glumly that it was too soon to manage anything more. If he were to force Frodo again now, it would break him. It would not make him any more compliant, but would render him vacant and entirely unresponsive.

When Frodo finished the mushrooms, Bramblethorn removed the tray and watched as the other hobbit sagged against the pillows at his back and re - fastened the buttons of his shirt. Frodo's hands were shaking, rendering the task more difficult than usual, but he managed. Still weary, Frodo lay down and closed his eyes. He heard Bramblethorn approaching but made no effort to acknowledge him.

"I will prove to you that I am not entirely without patience or compassion," Bramblethorn said quietly.

"And how," Frodo muttered into the pillows, "do you intend to do that?"

"As I said, I will not demand anything of you at this moment. I shall allow you to rest." Bramblethorn combed his fingers lightly through Frodo's hair. "I will not bind you, but I shall remain here to watch over you."

Frodo made no reply, but burrowed deeper into the pillows and sought the only escape now left to him.

~*~ To be continued ~*~