Here is extra-angsty Chapter 23. Please tell me what you think!!
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Chapter 23: Return, Retribution, and Redemption ____________________________________________________________________________ __
Night had begun to fade into dusk by the time the four hobbits had come through tunnel gate and back into the green embrace of Buckland. Frodo lay strapped to his pony in a peaceful, if undignified slumber. Pippin slumped down over his mount, his back, rear, and thighs screaming in misery. He no longer prodded his pony to a faster trot, for which Sam was eternally grateful, as it slowed the whole operation down to a walkable pace.
For Sam, the journey had been an unremitting torment. Sweat poured down his brow and down his back, his wrists were in agony from the constant pulling of the ropes, his feet ached, and his legs were sore in muscles that he did not even know that he had. Sam's strong, steady stroll had descended into a continuous stumble by the first hour. Sam's pace would gradually slacken until the rope that connected his wrists to Merry's saddle would pull taut threatening to pull him down if he did not quicken his pace. He'd fallen twice, dragged along his belly for yards and yards until he could scramble back to his feet and make a dash to give his leash more slack. But, true to his promise to Frodo, he had let out not so much as a grunt as he was dragged along, enduring his pain in absolute silence. As they approached Crickhollow, Sam's stride was more a stagger than a walk, and he was minutes away from passing out in earnest.
The humiliation of being leashed passed quickly, buried under a wave of continual physical misery and a burning rage that refused to subside. Sam's anger kept him upright, kept him walking, kept him close to his slumbering master. Sam glanced over at Frodo, his bound arms stretched down over the pony his head lolling back and forth with the movement of the horse, his curly locks blowing softly in the wind, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Frodo looked at peace, though the image of a fallen deer brought back from a hunt crept unbidden into Sam's mind. Though it comforted Sam to know that Frodo had passed the wretched trek in the sweet oblivion of sleep, the vision of his master tied over the horse, limp and unresponsive scared Sam. He secretly wished his master would wake up so that Sam would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could.
Merry was the only one of the four hobbits that seemed unfazed, even cheerful along the journey. Sam, mercifully, was led behind on a long enough piece of rope so as to avoid any unnecessary eye contact. Merry seemed preoccupied, and was disinclined to gloat, taunt, or otherwise test the strength of Sam's vow of silence.
At last the hobbits cleared the last line of trees and Crickhollow came into view. Sam felt as though he wanted to sob in defeat and exhaustion. His mind swirled and flooded with despair. They were back in this horrid place, this cage. All for nothing! Nothing, nothing, it had all been for naught! Merry, on the other hand, waxed genuinely ebullient as he jumped off of his pony.
"How nice it is for all of us to be home again!" exclaimed Merry, actually seeming to mean it.
Sam could hold silent no longer. He had promised to keep silent for the entire journey, and even that had been above and beyond the call of duty. All bets were off now that they were back in this hell. Against his better hobbit sense, Sam opened his mouth, and set free the rancor and spite that had been imprisoned behind his teeth.
"This'll never be home to me and Master Frodo, you rat of a Brandybuck!" growled Sam, for the first time actively pulling at his bonds. " This is not my home, this is not Frodo's home, it's not even really your home! It's a prison, not a home! A prison! You may tie us down and lock us up forever, Master Merry-but this will never EVER be our home!"
Merry dismounted in a rage, whirling around to slap Sam's face. Sam could feel the coppery liquid warmth of his own blood dripping down from his nose. But the pain had not sated the rancor that had been fomenting within him throughout the journey. Every step had brought Sam closer and closer to an explosion. His wrath was too raw, too real to be reined in now. Sam's spite towards Merry surged forth and out like a volcano, and Sam let it.
"You've no right to call it a home or you his family after what you done to Mr. Frodo, you filth! What you done to Mr. Frodo is unforgivable! It's a travesty! When I break free again you should fear me, Merry Brandybuck, because I've not the gentle mercy of my Master! I shan't spare you. You should look over your shoulder from now on, filth! Because one day, mark me, I will be there!"
Merry's eyes glinted, two small fires burning on a red contorted canvas. He violently pulled at the rope that was Sam's leash, sending the hobbit careening to the ground. Sam leapt up, charging headlong into his captor, bound hands raised up for a swing. Merry jumped away, but not quick enough. Sam was upon him, his face a mask of cold fury. Sam threw his entire body at the offending hobbit until both toppled to the ground. But Merry had the full use of his hands, and he used them. Merry leapt up, just as Sam did the same. Merry delivered a swift kick to Sam's gut just moments before the fallen hobbit could regain his balance. Sam grunted in pain, but did not stop. Sam straightened and dashed to attack the focus of his anger a second time. He rushed toward the offending Brandybuck in a blind rage before his leash drew taut, sending Sam careening to the ground. Sam's next attempt to stand was met with cold steel at his neck.
"Lie down!" cried Merry in a booming voice he never realized he even owned. "Or I'll cut your throat. and you'll be no comfort to your master then!"
Sam stilled, breathing heavily and stared at Merry, cold hatred in his eyes. He hadn't expected to escape, but the attack had at least provided him a small release from his fury. Sadly, it was done at the cost of unleashing Merry's own vindictive anger.
"Pippin!" Merry commanded. "Bring me my sack."
Pippin dismounted and limped over to Merry's pony, reaching over the pony's saddle to hand Merry his leather pack. Without releasing the blade from Sam's throat, Merry pulled out the remaining rope.
"Tie Sam's ankles, Pip. Tightly."
Pippin did as he was told, avoiding Sam's scathing glare at all costs.
"And" sneered Merry, holding up the cloth he had used as Sam's gag, "I believe you have more than earned this!"
Sam did not even flinch as the hateful thing was tied around his mouth. He had expected it-very nearly invited it.
"You! You!" Merry pointed at Sam, so angry he was practically apoplectic, "You are an abominable influence on Frodo! Don't think I don't know this whole mess was your doing! You have no idea what you've done, and how long it will take me to undo it! You should not mess with matters that are too great for a boorish, uneducated servant! Well-now the naughty runaways are HOME, it's time to dole out punishments for this ill-advised adventure, and those who helped it happen!"
Silently, Pippin gulped to himself, knowing that Merry considered him to be part of that category. Maybe if he was as helpful during this ordeal that was surely to follow, Merry would forget and forgive, and maybe even respect and love..Maybe.
Pippin stood silently as Merry surveyed the fields surrounding the house, searching for the perfect spot, though for what purpose, Pippin did not dare to guess. Finally, Merry's sights set upon a clearing centered around two largish oaks about five feet from each other. Pippin watched in muted dread as Merry led his horse to the clearing in the near distance. Sam, with his ankles bound, no longer had the option of walking. He was still attached to Merry's saddle by the ropes at his wrists. As the pony trotted, Sam was ignominiously dragged to the clearing, arms drawn taut above him. Pippin could see from Sam's winces and his groans that his back was being assailed by all manner of rocks, twigs, and sticks as he was pulled; he could see by Merry's face that he did not care. A sting of guilt coursed through Pippin, as Sam had been a kindly captor. But this was not his battle.
Once they had finally reached the clearing, the rope connecting Sam to Merry's pony was severed, and Merry and Pippin both lifted Sam to his feet and propped the struggling figure against the sturdy oak. Merry coiled the rope around Sam and the tree over a dozen times before he felt Sam was restrained enough to cut his wrist bonds. Sam relaxed his arms for less than a second before Merry grasped his wrists from behind, yanked his arms back, and tied them behind the tree. Sam was in extreme discomfort, both from the pains gathered on the miserable walk, and from the fact that he could not move a muscle. Sam stood, immobilized, his eyes darting around for some hints at his punishment that would inevitably follow. One thing gnawed at his mind, however. Sam full well expected a thrashing, but why, then, was he tied with his back to the tree rather than facing outward?
Merry surveyed his helpless captive with a slow, cruel smile before leaning his elbows down upon Sam's bound shoulder, and speaking inches away from his captive's ear.
"Samwise," began Merry in an icy tone. "Your outburst just then was inexcusable-but no more so than dragging Frodo away from the family that loves him and forcing us out on that little excursion. You need to learn your lesson. You are Frodo's friend, and I need to have some guarantees that you will not continue to be a bad influence who poisons his mind with notions of escape. You were wrong, Sam... This is Frodo's home, and it will be a home for both of you for a long time to come. We are Frodo's family, and, yes, I do include you in that category too. Which is why it is so important that you learn your lesson here. Do you understand me, Samwise?
Sam mumbled something through the gag that sounded suspiciously like a curse, earning him a sharp slap, and a punch to the gut. Without the ability to double over, the pain was unbearable. Sam grunted in agony, but then immediately met Merry's eyes again with a look of stark defiance.
"You are strong, Sam. I don't think I could thrash you hard enough to make an impression on you, so I will not even try. You are Frodo's friend, and I will take any measure necessary to assure that you will not continue to be a bad influence on him by poisoning his mind with thoughts of escape from the people that love him. Sam, I want to make an impression on you the very best way I know how. Your actions will have consequences, just not the ones you expect."
A growing dread knotted in Sam's racing mind as he tried to figure out what Merry's words might mean. Before he could think too long on it, Merry called Pip to his side
"Pippin, bring Frodo's pony over here. We have need of our cousin."
Sam began to scream and bellow in protest through the gag, but to no effect. Merry's mind was set on this-whatever this was, and Frodo surely would suffer. Sam tugged wildly on his bonds, but he was completely immobilized unless he could tear the tree out by its roots.
"And, Pippin," continued Merry in an eerily calm voice that belied its intention, "Rouse your cousin. He'll need to be awake for this."
Sam immediately resumed the muffled tirade through his gag, but to no avail. Merry had retribution on his mind, and he would seek it however he willed. Sam watched in horror as Frodo's brown pony sauntered up, led by Pippin. Once the pony came to a halt in front of Sam, Merry sliced through the binds that tethered Frodo to the pony. He slid down languidly, flopping to the ground with a dull thud.
Frodo opened his eyes blearily. He had fallen, had he not? An attempted stretch reminded him that his hands were bound, and an attempt to stand reminded him that his legs were tied as well. Frodo fixed his gaze upon the misty grey morning sky. Quite pretty, really. Better than the Old Forest. Wait----. Suddenly the memories came flooding back. They'd been in the Old Forest then the tree, and Merry and Sam---Sam! Frodo turned his head to the side, letting the dewy grass moisten the side of his face. What he saw alarmed him-Sam-gagged and bound to a tree in front of him. Sam's eyes bulged out and he was crying. Why?
Suddenly Merry knelt down before Frodo, leaning on his haunches, and stroking Frodo's hair with his hands. He took his knife and cut Frodo's wrist and ankle bonds, after which he pulled Frodo's cloak over his head and unbuttoned and removed his jacket. Frodo was still too sleepy to react, looking up hazily and confusedly at his cousin untying and undressing him.
"Did you sleep well, Frodo dear?" purred Merry.
Frodo nodded stupidly, his mind still hazy from the tea. He turned his glance back up to Sam, then back to Merry, a question in his eyes.
"Yes, that," said Merry. "I'll explain, dear one. I know you are a little confused and you've just woken up." Merry turned to look at Pippin. "Pippin! I'll need your help here! Bring my pack, will you?"
Pippin set the pack down in the grass beside his cousins, and looked down at Merry for direction.
"Frodo, do you think you could stand if Pip and I helped you?" asked Merry.
Frodo nodded, still drowsy and not quite convinced yet that he wasn't still dreaming.
Merry and Pippin pulled Frodo to his feet. He was leaned gently against the tree, belly down, with his back facing Sam. Sam started to moan desperately now, trying to yank his friend into awareness. Frodo's eyes still had not completely focused and his mind still felt as if it were stuffed with wool.
"Just lean there for a minute, alright Frodo?" asked Merry, stroking Frodo's check with the back of his hand. "Why don't you wrap your arms around the tree to help you stand?"
Frodo nodded. Prickles of pain ran fiercely up his unsteady legs, not sure if they were ready to stand.
Frodo stared blankly at Sam. His own cheek resting against the bark of the tree, his fingers threaded about the oak as if in an embrace. Sam was making such a commotion behind his gag, it caused Frodo to wonder-to wonder why Sam was gagged in the first place, or tied so. As Frodo allowed these questions to enter his muddled brain, he felt warm hands caressing his wrists from behind the tree. Then the warm caressing hands were replaced with something less soft, and they were not caressing him anymore. Frodo tried to move his arms off from around the tree, and found he couldn't. His wrists had been tied! Frodo tried to move his head to find Merry, but he'd been tied too tight. His belly was flush against the tree, and he was placed in such a way that he was forced to look sidelong at Sam, most of his back turned to his loyal friend. Panic began to well up in Frodo's mind, drumming along with the panic that he already heard on the edge of Sam's moans.
Merry materialized again from behind the tree, his lips curved in an angelic smile.
"Merry?"
Merry ran his fingers through Frodo's hair and shushed him. Finally, he spoke.
"Frodo love," cooed Merry. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. Sam helped you do something very bad yesterday. I know it was all his idea, but, Frodo, you did follow him. So you are now going to be punished so you will learn your lesson."
Frodo started to breathe heavily, the full realization of what would be happening to him finally dawning. But Merry was not done.
"And, Frodo, Sam did something else very naughty. He attacked me and said some very cruel things about our home and our family. That means he deserves to be punished too, love. In fact, he deserves to be punished much worse than you."
Frodo threw a desperate look at Sam. Was that why he was so undone? Because he was to be whipped too? But wait, Sam couldn't be whipped as he was.
"Frodo," continued Merry. "Here is the hard part, but it is very important that both you and Sam hear this." Merry took his knife out of his belt and moved in back of Frodo, out of his line of sight. Frodo shivered as he felt Merry slicing through his shirt with his knife until it fell in tatters at his feet. Sam was screaming even louder into the gag.
"The hard part is this, Frodo, Sam," continued Merry as he stood in front of Frodo again, finger-combing his hair. "Sam does not respond well to physical punishment. We have seen that. I need to find a punishment for Sam that will change his behavior and make him a better friend to you, Frodo. And encouraging you to run away is not good behavior. I think that if Sam can see the immediate bad effect his behavior has upon you, Frodo, he would be more inclined to stop. Because, Frodo, the purpose of punishment is not to harm, but to help someone learn. Do you understand, beloved?"
Frodo shook his head as much as his awkward position would allow.
"The point is this, Frodo," explained Merry. I will be giving //you// ten lashes with the pony whip. That is for your part in running away."
Frodo was too shocked to cry out or protest. He just stared at Merry with unbelieving eyes
"Sam deserves 15 lashes for helping you, for hitting me in the back, and for attacking me just now. But I'm not going to lash him, because it would not do any good."
Frodo breathed a sigh of relief; Sam did not.
"So, Frodo, I am going to give Sam's lashes to you. By doing these awful things, Frodo, Sam has caused you to bear 15 more lashes. Standing here and watching you suffer is his punishment. So I want you both to think about this as I go into the shed and get the pony whip."
Frodo's breath hitched. He was suddenly fully and agonizingly awake.
"Merry!" he screamed. "Merry! You can't do this!"
Frodo shivered at the thought of the whip coming down on his back 25 times, but was more worried about Sam, and what it would mean to him; what it would do to him. He had to stop this had to-Pip!
Pip was standing between the shed and the trees, a dozen yards away. Frodo suddenly and frantically began calling out to his cousin.
"Pippin! Pip!" cried Frodo, his voice ragged with desperation. "Pippin! You must help us! You must cut us loose! He's going to hurt me, Pip! Pippin!!! Now! Help! Help!".
Pippin stood befuddled, immobile. He dreaded what he knew he would see, but had already made the decision to let it happen; to help it happen. This was his chance for redemption, a chance to show Merry he could be useful, or, at the very least, not to get in the way. He felt truly sorry for Frodo and Sam, but they'd earned this hadn't they, just as he had earned whatever Merry had chosen to do to him. They'd all failed Merry in some way. Pippin hoped they would both learn from this experience as he had learned from his.
Merry reappeared, a thin leather whip dangling from his hand. He removed his jacket and weskit, and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. He then motioned for Pip to come over.
Frodo knew there was no escape and he felt his mouth go dry and his knees buckle against the hard bark of the tree. He turned his head to Sam and whispered, "It will be alright, Sam. This is not your doing." He shifted his gaze to Merry and tried to look defiant, but suspected the fear in his heart betrayed his attempted bravado.
"Pip," said Merry, handing Pippin a piece of cloth. "I need you gag Frodo."
"Please Pip," asked Frodo in one last-ditch effort. "Please don't do this!"
Pip, with tears streaming down his cheeks, tied the gag over Frodo's mouth, effectively quieting his cousin. He leaned down and whispered into Frodo's ear, "This will all be over before you know it Frodo, and then we can be a family again! Don't be scared! Merry is a strong but merciful teacher, Frodo. I love you, Frodo"
"That was very sweet, Pip," said Merry, obviously overhearing. "Now kiss Frodo so that he knows that no matter how hard we discipline him, we still love him very much."
Pippin leaned down and gave Frodo a kiss, his lips picking up the salty taste of Frodo's tear-stained face. Wearing a sad smile, Pippin then stepped back.
Merry took his position behind Frodo and drew back his arm. The whip whistled as it cut through the air, and with a stinging crack! cut into Frodo's skin. Frodo tried to control his reaction for Sam but instead bucked and screamed into the gag. It hurt more than he ever imagined! He felt as though his back had just been set on fire. The tears came down, and Sam had begun to sob deep, heaving, shattering cries.
"One!" counted Merry.
Whistle and crack. Nine more times the whip fell, each one more agonizing than before. Frodo had no words for the misery Merry had rained on his poor bleeding back. When Merry got to ten, Frodo almost believed Merry would stop.
"That concludes your punishment, Frodo," said Merry, kissing Frodo's reddened cheek. "Now it is time to start with Sam's." Sam's yells became even more detectable, a loud but muffled jumble of "Mr. Frodo" with some admonitions to stop and random curses thrown in for good measure.
Merry turned to Sam.
"Sam, these next fifteen licks on Frodo belong to you. They are YOUR fault. Sam, I want you to be quiet during the next little while. I'm going to have Pippin remove your gag."
Pippin duly obliged, shrinking back at the flood of curses, pleas and bellows that left Sam's mouth the minute the gag was removed.
"Sam!" yelled Merry. "Quiet! You just earned Frodo another 2 slashes!"
"Villain!" screamed Sam.
"Make that 5," continued Merry. "Do you want Frodo to have any skin left on that beautiful soft back of his? Not a word. You stay silent. Not a whimper, not a cry. Silence. Do you understand?"
"Yes," answered Sam in a firm furious voice.
"Make that 6. You only needed to nod."
Sam died inside, but clinched his teeth and let the tears flow. He knew better than to believe anything from this evil creature's mouth - knew that any torment inflicted on his master was Merry's doing and his alone. But watching his gentle master writhe and twist in agony against the unforgiving solidity of the tree - being stroked by the very hand that beat him; kissed by the very lips that sentenced him - the words still stung and crept into his soul like a sneaking thief. He had been sent along with Mr. Frodo to help him - protect him. The thought that he could be responsible for the torture he could not close his eyes against left his heart torn and bleeding in his fist.
Fifteen more times Merry brought the whip down upon Frodo's bleeding, battered back, criss-crossing it with angry lines that wept blood. He was in such deep and pure agony that he very nearly passed out. He bucked and screamed and cried, but nothing he did seemed to make the misery end. He did not look at Sam, for he knew that whatever he suffered, Sam bundled it up in his own mind and carried it as his own. Frodo had tried to be brave - had tried desperately to control his cries and tears. He knew any wound he suffered would cut Sam just as deep, but the pain was more than he could bear and he had found himself voicing that pain before he could stop himself.
But as bad as the burning was, as bad as the sharp, sting of the leather on his skin, the pain in his heart was tenfold. He had tried to believe that Merry could be saved. Had willed himself into trusting that there was some small part of his cousin left in the body that strode about in his skin and spoke with his voice. He was a prisoner and at present it seemed his jailor would either break him or kill him. Frodo could only hope that in the end, his burning anger at his cousin could be quenched and he could find the forgiveness he would need for his soul to depart in peace.
Merry paused, breathless. Frodo was panting and sobbing. Merry looked Sam in the eyes. "Sam, I want these last 6 to really make an impact since they are punishment for not keeping quiet. Since you could not keep quiet, I'm going to let Frodo make some noise too. And when he does, I want you to remember that this is your fault!"
Merry removed the gag from Frodo, who instantly released a profound burst of very un-adult like sobbing. Sam bit his lip, but said nothing. His hands clinched so tight he thought they might fall off. His face had become an ocean of silent tears and a mask of unfathomable despair.
One. Merry brought the whip down, and Frodo screamed louder that he thought he could. The sound echoed throughout the clearing, sending birds scattering off the treetops. Two. Frodo was no longer worried about any semblance of dignity. Three. Frodo was losing his voice, and his screams took on a pathetic raspy quality. Four. Little more than a keening whimper, Frodo would fall from consciousness soon. Five. Silence. Frodo had passed out. Six. Frodo was awakened by the crack, but mumbled incoherently, senseless with pain.
Merry, now himself overcome with emotion, threw down his whip and cut down his miserable cousin. Frodo fell to the ground in a bleeding heap, clutching grass with his fingernails, face buried in the dew, whimpering and insensible. Sam's head was bent in sorrow and shame for not being able to help his master in any way but through the sharing of tears. He longed to take his master in his arms, cradle him, and tend to the grotesque web of cuts and slashes that now cross stitched his back. But he was tied fast, forced to be an observer to his master's deep, pure misery.
Strangely enough, Merry himself was sobbing. He dropped his whip liked a cursed object, fell down to his knees, and gathered Frodo in his arms, kissing him all over his face while shushing and rocking the limp hobbit like a child. "Frodo," cooed Merry. "Frodo, you'll never know what that cost me, beloved. Please, oh, please. never make me do that again! Oh Frodo! Please don't try and leave again! I want to be a family again, Frodo. A family like before! Please don't ever leave us again!"
TBC
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AN-A BIG thanks to my beta, Aratlithiel, whose fics you MUST check out! Thanks to Iorhael for creating Evil!Merry, thanks to MBradford and Budgielover for their feedback. All of these folks have WONDERFUL fics that you should read RIGHT NOW!
To the Reviewers!
Natta- Oh- but you WILL fell more sorry for Pip come chapter 25!
Narsil C - Welcome aboard! My beta and I are thrilled to have new readers! Keep talking to us-okay? And karate? Yes-that would be handy, if only Merry would untie Frodo. Well, this isn't the Matrix!!
Krista-here it is! This story will be one non-stop angst fest from here!
Alisaundre- blushes-AWWWW!! And I asked some folks about whether Buckland was part of the Shire, and was answered in the affirmative-so now I need to make my story conform to that!
QTPIE- I think Sam needs the punching bag more than you! And more using Frodo/Sma's loyalty against each other!
Endymion-Home safe and sound is a relative term, now isn't it?
Chloe Amethyst- I think this chapter is even more tension filled than the last. Even I am beginning to feel bad for Frodo!
Cailen Braern - I just love Sam in this chapter-he and his suppressed rage are so fun to write!
Iorhael! - I think what you wrote about the ring corrupting everything is right. Merry really does love Pippin, but the ring has changed Pippin into a de facto abused spouse!
Camellia Gamgee-took. More pickles coming!!
MBradford- If any chapter will give you bad dreams, it is this one!
Aratlitheil- My beta! Well, I know you can't wait to get to the REAL smackdown!
More fic recs next time!!
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Chapter 23: Return, Retribution, and Redemption ____________________________________________________________________________ __
Night had begun to fade into dusk by the time the four hobbits had come through tunnel gate and back into the green embrace of Buckland. Frodo lay strapped to his pony in a peaceful, if undignified slumber. Pippin slumped down over his mount, his back, rear, and thighs screaming in misery. He no longer prodded his pony to a faster trot, for which Sam was eternally grateful, as it slowed the whole operation down to a walkable pace.
For Sam, the journey had been an unremitting torment. Sweat poured down his brow and down his back, his wrists were in agony from the constant pulling of the ropes, his feet ached, and his legs were sore in muscles that he did not even know that he had. Sam's strong, steady stroll had descended into a continuous stumble by the first hour. Sam's pace would gradually slacken until the rope that connected his wrists to Merry's saddle would pull taut threatening to pull him down if he did not quicken his pace. He'd fallen twice, dragged along his belly for yards and yards until he could scramble back to his feet and make a dash to give his leash more slack. But, true to his promise to Frodo, he had let out not so much as a grunt as he was dragged along, enduring his pain in absolute silence. As they approached Crickhollow, Sam's stride was more a stagger than a walk, and he was minutes away from passing out in earnest.
The humiliation of being leashed passed quickly, buried under a wave of continual physical misery and a burning rage that refused to subside. Sam's anger kept him upright, kept him walking, kept him close to his slumbering master. Sam glanced over at Frodo, his bound arms stretched down over the pony his head lolling back and forth with the movement of the horse, his curly locks blowing softly in the wind, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Frodo looked at peace, though the image of a fallen deer brought back from a hunt crept unbidden into Sam's mind. Though it comforted Sam to know that Frodo had passed the wretched trek in the sweet oblivion of sleep, the vision of his master tied over the horse, limp and unresponsive scared Sam. He secretly wished his master would wake up so that Sam would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could.
Merry was the only one of the four hobbits that seemed unfazed, even cheerful along the journey. Sam, mercifully, was led behind on a long enough piece of rope so as to avoid any unnecessary eye contact. Merry seemed preoccupied, and was disinclined to gloat, taunt, or otherwise test the strength of Sam's vow of silence.
At last the hobbits cleared the last line of trees and Crickhollow came into view. Sam felt as though he wanted to sob in defeat and exhaustion. His mind swirled and flooded with despair. They were back in this horrid place, this cage. All for nothing! Nothing, nothing, it had all been for naught! Merry, on the other hand, waxed genuinely ebullient as he jumped off of his pony.
"How nice it is for all of us to be home again!" exclaimed Merry, actually seeming to mean it.
Sam could hold silent no longer. He had promised to keep silent for the entire journey, and even that had been above and beyond the call of duty. All bets were off now that they were back in this hell. Against his better hobbit sense, Sam opened his mouth, and set free the rancor and spite that had been imprisoned behind his teeth.
"This'll never be home to me and Master Frodo, you rat of a Brandybuck!" growled Sam, for the first time actively pulling at his bonds. " This is not my home, this is not Frodo's home, it's not even really your home! It's a prison, not a home! A prison! You may tie us down and lock us up forever, Master Merry-but this will never EVER be our home!"
Merry dismounted in a rage, whirling around to slap Sam's face. Sam could feel the coppery liquid warmth of his own blood dripping down from his nose. But the pain had not sated the rancor that had been fomenting within him throughout the journey. Every step had brought Sam closer and closer to an explosion. His wrath was too raw, too real to be reined in now. Sam's spite towards Merry surged forth and out like a volcano, and Sam let it.
"You've no right to call it a home or you his family after what you done to Mr. Frodo, you filth! What you done to Mr. Frodo is unforgivable! It's a travesty! When I break free again you should fear me, Merry Brandybuck, because I've not the gentle mercy of my Master! I shan't spare you. You should look over your shoulder from now on, filth! Because one day, mark me, I will be there!"
Merry's eyes glinted, two small fires burning on a red contorted canvas. He violently pulled at the rope that was Sam's leash, sending the hobbit careening to the ground. Sam leapt up, charging headlong into his captor, bound hands raised up for a swing. Merry jumped away, but not quick enough. Sam was upon him, his face a mask of cold fury. Sam threw his entire body at the offending hobbit until both toppled to the ground. But Merry had the full use of his hands, and he used them. Merry leapt up, just as Sam did the same. Merry delivered a swift kick to Sam's gut just moments before the fallen hobbit could regain his balance. Sam grunted in pain, but did not stop. Sam straightened and dashed to attack the focus of his anger a second time. He rushed toward the offending Brandybuck in a blind rage before his leash drew taut, sending Sam careening to the ground. Sam's next attempt to stand was met with cold steel at his neck.
"Lie down!" cried Merry in a booming voice he never realized he even owned. "Or I'll cut your throat. and you'll be no comfort to your master then!"
Sam stilled, breathing heavily and stared at Merry, cold hatred in his eyes. He hadn't expected to escape, but the attack had at least provided him a small release from his fury. Sadly, it was done at the cost of unleashing Merry's own vindictive anger.
"Pippin!" Merry commanded. "Bring me my sack."
Pippin dismounted and limped over to Merry's pony, reaching over the pony's saddle to hand Merry his leather pack. Without releasing the blade from Sam's throat, Merry pulled out the remaining rope.
"Tie Sam's ankles, Pip. Tightly."
Pippin did as he was told, avoiding Sam's scathing glare at all costs.
"And" sneered Merry, holding up the cloth he had used as Sam's gag, "I believe you have more than earned this!"
Sam did not even flinch as the hateful thing was tied around his mouth. He had expected it-very nearly invited it.
"You! You!" Merry pointed at Sam, so angry he was practically apoplectic, "You are an abominable influence on Frodo! Don't think I don't know this whole mess was your doing! You have no idea what you've done, and how long it will take me to undo it! You should not mess with matters that are too great for a boorish, uneducated servant! Well-now the naughty runaways are HOME, it's time to dole out punishments for this ill-advised adventure, and those who helped it happen!"
Silently, Pippin gulped to himself, knowing that Merry considered him to be part of that category. Maybe if he was as helpful during this ordeal that was surely to follow, Merry would forget and forgive, and maybe even respect and love..Maybe.
Pippin stood silently as Merry surveyed the fields surrounding the house, searching for the perfect spot, though for what purpose, Pippin did not dare to guess. Finally, Merry's sights set upon a clearing centered around two largish oaks about five feet from each other. Pippin watched in muted dread as Merry led his horse to the clearing in the near distance. Sam, with his ankles bound, no longer had the option of walking. He was still attached to Merry's saddle by the ropes at his wrists. As the pony trotted, Sam was ignominiously dragged to the clearing, arms drawn taut above him. Pippin could see from Sam's winces and his groans that his back was being assailed by all manner of rocks, twigs, and sticks as he was pulled; he could see by Merry's face that he did not care. A sting of guilt coursed through Pippin, as Sam had been a kindly captor. But this was not his battle.
Once they had finally reached the clearing, the rope connecting Sam to Merry's pony was severed, and Merry and Pippin both lifted Sam to his feet and propped the struggling figure against the sturdy oak. Merry coiled the rope around Sam and the tree over a dozen times before he felt Sam was restrained enough to cut his wrist bonds. Sam relaxed his arms for less than a second before Merry grasped his wrists from behind, yanked his arms back, and tied them behind the tree. Sam was in extreme discomfort, both from the pains gathered on the miserable walk, and from the fact that he could not move a muscle. Sam stood, immobilized, his eyes darting around for some hints at his punishment that would inevitably follow. One thing gnawed at his mind, however. Sam full well expected a thrashing, but why, then, was he tied with his back to the tree rather than facing outward?
Merry surveyed his helpless captive with a slow, cruel smile before leaning his elbows down upon Sam's bound shoulder, and speaking inches away from his captive's ear.
"Samwise," began Merry in an icy tone. "Your outburst just then was inexcusable-but no more so than dragging Frodo away from the family that loves him and forcing us out on that little excursion. You need to learn your lesson. You are Frodo's friend, and I need to have some guarantees that you will not continue to be a bad influence who poisons his mind with notions of escape. You were wrong, Sam... This is Frodo's home, and it will be a home for both of you for a long time to come. We are Frodo's family, and, yes, I do include you in that category too. Which is why it is so important that you learn your lesson here. Do you understand me, Samwise?
Sam mumbled something through the gag that sounded suspiciously like a curse, earning him a sharp slap, and a punch to the gut. Without the ability to double over, the pain was unbearable. Sam grunted in agony, but then immediately met Merry's eyes again with a look of stark defiance.
"You are strong, Sam. I don't think I could thrash you hard enough to make an impression on you, so I will not even try. You are Frodo's friend, and I will take any measure necessary to assure that you will not continue to be a bad influence on him by poisoning his mind with thoughts of escape from the people that love him. Sam, I want to make an impression on you the very best way I know how. Your actions will have consequences, just not the ones you expect."
A growing dread knotted in Sam's racing mind as he tried to figure out what Merry's words might mean. Before he could think too long on it, Merry called Pip to his side
"Pippin, bring Frodo's pony over here. We have need of our cousin."
Sam began to scream and bellow in protest through the gag, but to no effect. Merry's mind was set on this-whatever this was, and Frodo surely would suffer. Sam tugged wildly on his bonds, but he was completely immobilized unless he could tear the tree out by its roots.
"And, Pippin," continued Merry in an eerily calm voice that belied its intention, "Rouse your cousin. He'll need to be awake for this."
Sam immediately resumed the muffled tirade through his gag, but to no avail. Merry had retribution on his mind, and he would seek it however he willed. Sam watched in horror as Frodo's brown pony sauntered up, led by Pippin. Once the pony came to a halt in front of Sam, Merry sliced through the binds that tethered Frodo to the pony. He slid down languidly, flopping to the ground with a dull thud.
Frodo opened his eyes blearily. He had fallen, had he not? An attempted stretch reminded him that his hands were bound, and an attempt to stand reminded him that his legs were tied as well. Frodo fixed his gaze upon the misty grey morning sky. Quite pretty, really. Better than the Old Forest. Wait----. Suddenly the memories came flooding back. They'd been in the Old Forest then the tree, and Merry and Sam---Sam! Frodo turned his head to the side, letting the dewy grass moisten the side of his face. What he saw alarmed him-Sam-gagged and bound to a tree in front of him. Sam's eyes bulged out and he was crying. Why?
Suddenly Merry knelt down before Frodo, leaning on his haunches, and stroking Frodo's hair with his hands. He took his knife and cut Frodo's wrist and ankle bonds, after which he pulled Frodo's cloak over his head and unbuttoned and removed his jacket. Frodo was still too sleepy to react, looking up hazily and confusedly at his cousin untying and undressing him.
"Did you sleep well, Frodo dear?" purred Merry.
Frodo nodded stupidly, his mind still hazy from the tea. He turned his glance back up to Sam, then back to Merry, a question in his eyes.
"Yes, that," said Merry. "I'll explain, dear one. I know you are a little confused and you've just woken up." Merry turned to look at Pippin. "Pippin! I'll need your help here! Bring my pack, will you?"
Pippin set the pack down in the grass beside his cousins, and looked down at Merry for direction.
"Frodo, do you think you could stand if Pip and I helped you?" asked Merry.
Frodo nodded, still drowsy and not quite convinced yet that he wasn't still dreaming.
Merry and Pippin pulled Frodo to his feet. He was leaned gently against the tree, belly down, with his back facing Sam. Sam started to moan desperately now, trying to yank his friend into awareness. Frodo's eyes still had not completely focused and his mind still felt as if it were stuffed with wool.
"Just lean there for a minute, alright Frodo?" asked Merry, stroking Frodo's check with the back of his hand. "Why don't you wrap your arms around the tree to help you stand?"
Frodo nodded. Prickles of pain ran fiercely up his unsteady legs, not sure if they were ready to stand.
Frodo stared blankly at Sam. His own cheek resting against the bark of the tree, his fingers threaded about the oak as if in an embrace. Sam was making such a commotion behind his gag, it caused Frodo to wonder-to wonder why Sam was gagged in the first place, or tied so. As Frodo allowed these questions to enter his muddled brain, he felt warm hands caressing his wrists from behind the tree. Then the warm caressing hands were replaced with something less soft, and they were not caressing him anymore. Frodo tried to move his arms off from around the tree, and found he couldn't. His wrists had been tied! Frodo tried to move his head to find Merry, but he'd been tied too tight. His belly was flush against the tree, and he was placed in such a way that he was forced to look sidelong at Sam, most of his back turned to his loyal friend. Panic began to well up in Frodo's mind, drumming along with the panic that he already heard on the edge of Sam's moans.
Merry materialized again from behind the tree, his lips curved in an angelic smile.
"Merry?"
Merry ran his fingers through Frodo's hair and shushed him. Finally, he spoke.
"Frodo love," cooed Merry. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. Sam helped you do something very bad yesterday. I know it was all his idea, but, Frodo, you did follow him. So you are now going to be punished so you will learn your lesson."
Frodo started to breathe heavily, the full realization of what would be happening to him finally dawning. But Merry was not done.
"And, Frodo, Sam did something else very naughty. He attacked me and said some very cruel things about our home and our family. That means he deserves to be punished too, love. In fact, he deserves to be punished much worse than you."
Frodo threw a desperate look at Sam. Was that why he was so undone? Because he was to be whipped too? But wait, Sam couldn't be whipped as he was.
"Frodo," continued Merry. "Here is the hard part, but it is very important that both you and Sam hear this." Merry took his knife out of his belt and moved in back of Frodo, out of his line of sight. Frodo shivered as he felt Merry slicing through his shirt with his knife until it fell in tatters at his feet. Sam was screaming even louder into the gag.
"The hard part is this, Frodo, Sam," continued Merry as he stood in front of Frodo again, finger-combing his hair. "Sam does not respond well to physical punishment. We have seen that. I need to find a punishment for Sam that will change his behavior and make him a better friend to you, Frodo. And encouraging you to run away is not good behavior. I think that if Sam can see the immediate bad effect his behavior has upon you, Frodo, he would be more inclined to stop. Because, Frodo, the purpose of punishment is not to harm, but to help someone learn. Do you understand, beloved?"
Frodo shook his head as much as his awkward position would allow.
"The point is this, Frodo," explained Merry. I will be giving //you// ten lashes with the pony whip. That is for your part in running away."
Frodo was too shocked to cry out or protest. He just stared at Merry with unbelieving eyes
"Sam deserves 15 lashes for helping you, for hitting me in the back, and for attacking me just now. But I'm not going to lash him, because it would not do any good."
Frodo breathed a sigh of relief; Sam did not.
"So, Frodo, I am going to give Sam's lashes to you. By doing these awful things, Frodo, Sam has caused you to bear 15 more lashes. Standing here and watching you suffer is his punishment. So I want you both to think about this as I go into the shed and get the pony whip."
Frodo's breath hitched. He was suddenly fully and agonizingly awake.
"Merry!" he screamed. "Merry! You can't do this!"
Frodo shivered at the thought of the whip coming down on his back 25 times, but was more worried about Sam, and what it would mean to him; what it would do to him. He had to stop this had to-Pip!
Pip was standing between the shed and the trees, a dozen yards away. Frodo suddenly and frantically began calling out to his cousin.
"Pippin! Pip!" cried Frodo, his voice ragged with desperation. "Pippin! You must help us! You must cut us loose! He's going to hurt me, Pip! Pippin!!! Now! Help! Help!".
Pippin stood befuddled, immobile. He dreaded what he knew he would see, but had already made the decision to let it happen; to help it happen. This was his chance for redemption, a chance to show Merry he could be useful, or, at the very least, not to get in the way. He felt truly sorry for Frodo and Sam, but they'd earned this hadn't they, just as he had earned whatever Merry had chosen to do to him. They'd all failed Merry in some way. Pippin hoped they would both learn from this experience as he had learned from his.
Merry reappeared, a thin leather whip dangling from his hand. He removed his jacket and weskit, and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. He then motioned for Pip to come over.
Frodo knew there was no escape and he felt his mouth go dry and his knees buckle against the hard bark of the tree. He turned his head to Sam and whispered, "It will be alright, Sam. This is not your doing." He shifted his gaze to Merry and tried to look defiant, but suspected the fear in his heart betrayed his attempted bravado.
"Pip," said Merry, handing Pippin a piece of cloth. "I need you gag Frodo."
"Please Pip," asked Frodo in one last-ditch effort. "Please don't do this!"
Pip, with tears streaming down his cheeks, tied the gag over Frodo's mouth, effectively quieting his cousin. He leaned down and whispered into Frodo's ear, "This will all be over before you know it Frodo, and then we can be a family again! Don't be scared! Merry is a strong but merciful teacher, Frodo. I love you, Frodo"
"That was very sweet, Pip," said Merry, obviously overhearing. "Now kiss Frodo so that he knows that no matter how hard we discipline him, we still love him very much."
Pippin leaned down and gave Frodo a kiss, his lips picking up the salty taste of Frodo's tear-stained face. Wearing a sad smile, Pippin then stepped back.
Merry took his position behind Frodo and drew back his arm. The whip whistled as it cut through the air, and with a stinging crack! cut into Frodo's skin. Frodo tried to control his reaction for Sam but instead bucked and screamed into the gag. It hurt more than he ever imagined! He felt as though his back had just been set on fire. The tears came down, and Sam had begun to sob deep, heaving, shattering cries.
"One!" counted Merry.
Whistle and crack. Nine more times the whip fell, each one more agonizing than before. Frodo had no words for the misery Merry had rained on his poor bleeding back. When Merry got to ten, Frodo almost believed Merry would stop.
"That concludes your punishment, Frodo," said Merry, kissing Frodo's reddened cheek. "Now it is time to start with Sam's." Sam's yells became even more detectable, a loud but muffled jumble of "Mr. Frodo" with some admonitions to stop and random curses thrown in for good measure.
Merry turned to Sam.
"Sam, these next fifteen licks on Frodo belong to you. They are YOUR fault. Sam, I want you to be quiet during the next little while. I'm going to have Pippin remove your gag."
Pippin duly obliged, shrinking back at the flood of curses, pleas and bellows that left Sam's mouth the minute the gag was removed.
"Sam!" yelled Merry. "Quiet! You just earned Frodo another 2 slashes!"
"Villain!" screamed Sam.
"Make that 5," continued Merry. "Do you want Frodo to have any skin left on that beautiful soft back of his? Not a word. You stay silent. Not a whimper, not a cry. Silence. Do you understand?"
"Yes," answered Sam in a firm furious voice.
"Make that 6. You only needed to nod."
Sam died inside, but clinched his teeth and let the tears flow. He knew better than to believe anything from this evil creature's mouth - knew that any torment inflicted on his master was Merry's doing and his alone. But watching his gentle master writhe and twist in agony against the unforgiving solidity of the tree - being stroked by the very hand that beat him; kissed by the very lips that sentenced him - the words still stung and crept into his soul like a sneaking thief. He had been sent along with Mr. Frodo to help him - protect him. The thought that he could be responsible for the torture he could not close his eyes against left his heart torn and bleeding in his fist.
Fifteen more times Merry brought the whip down upon Frodo's bleeding, battered back, criss-crossing it with angry lines that wept blood. He was in such deep and pure agony that he very nearly passed out. He bucked and screamed and cried, but nothing he did seemed to make the misery end. He did not look at Sam, for he knew that whatever he suffered, Sam bundled it up in his own mind and carried it as his own. Frodo had tried to be brave - had tried desperately to control his cries and tears. He knew any wound he suffered would cut Sam just as deep, but the pain was more than he could bear and he had found himself voicing that pain before he could stop himself.
But as bad as the burning was, as bad as the sharp, sting of the leather on his skin, the pain in his heart was tenfold. He had tried to believe that Merry could be saved. Had willed himself into trusting that there was some small part of his cousin left in the body that strode about in his skin and spoke with his voice. He was a prisoner and at present it seemed his jailor would either break him or kill him. Frodo could only hope that in the end, his burning anger at his cousin could be quenched and he could find the forgiveness he would need for his soul to depart in peace.
Merry paused, breathless. Frodo was panting and sobbing. Merry looked Sam in the eyes. "Sam, I want these last 6 to really make an impact since they are punishment for not keeping quiet. Since you could not keep quiet, I'm going to let Frodo make some noise too. And when he does, I want you to remember that this is your fault!"
Merry removed the gag from Frodo, who instantly released a profound burst of very un-adult like sobbing. Sam bit his lip, but said nothing. His hands clinched so tight he thought they might fall off. His face had become an ocean of silent tears and a mask of unfathomable despair.
One. Merry brought the whip down, and Frodo screamed louder that he thought he could. The sound echoed throughout the clearing, sending birds scattering off the treetops. Two. Frodo was no longer worried about any semblance of dignity. Three. Frodo was losing his voice, and his screams took on a pathetic raspy quality. Four. Little more than a keening whimper, Frodo would fall from consciousness soon. Five. Silence. Frodo had passed out. Six. Frodo was awakened by the crack, but mumbled incoherently, senseless with pain.
Merry, now himself overcome with emotion, threw down his whip and cut down his miserable cousin. Frodo fell to the ground in a bleeding heap, clutching grass with his fingernails, face buried in the dew, whimpering and insensible. Sam's head was bent in sorrow and shame for not being able to help his master in any way but through the sharing of tears. He longed to take his master in his arms, cradle him, and tend to the grotesque web of cuts and slashes that now cross stitched his back. But he was tied fast, forced to be an observer to his master's deep, pure misery.
Strangely enough, Merry himself was sobbing. He dropped his whip liked a cursed object, fell down to his knees, and gathered Frodo in his arms, kissing him all over his face while shushing and rocking the limp hobbit like a child. "Frodo," cooed Merry. "Frodo, you'll never know what that cost me, beloved. Please, oh, please. never make me do that again! Oh Frodo! Please don't try and leave again! I want to be a family again, Frodo. A family like before! Please don't ever leave us again!"
TBC
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AN-A BIG thanks to my beta, Aratlithiel, whose fics you MUST check out! Thanks to Iorhael for creating Evil!Merry, thanks to MBradford and Budgielover for their feedback. All of these folks have WONDERFUL fics that you should read RIGHT NOW!
To the Reviewers!
Natta- Oh- but you WILL fell more sorry for Pip come chapter 25!
Narsil C - Welcome aboard! My beta and I are thrilled to have new readers! Keep talking to us-okay? And karate? Yes-that would be handy, if only Merry would untie Frodo. Well, this isn't the Matrix!!
Krista-here it is! This story will be one non-stop angst fest from here!
Alisaundre- blushes-AWWWW!! And I asked some folks about whether Buckland was part of the Shire, and was answered in the affirmative-so now I need to make my story conform to that!
QTPIE- I think Sam needs the punching bag more than you! And more using Frodo/Sma's loyalty against each other!
Endymion-Home safe and sound is a relative term, now isn't it?
Chloe Amethyst- I think this chapter is even more tension filled than the last. Even I am beginning to feel bad for Frodo!
Cailen Braern - I just love Sam in this chapter-he and his suppressed rage are so fun to write!
Iorhael! - I think what you wrote about the ring corrupting everything is right. Merry really does love Pippin, but the ring has changed Pippin into a de facto abused spouse!
Camellia Gamgee-took. More pickles coming!!
MBradford- If any chapter will give you bad dreams, it is this one!
Aratlitheil- My beta! Well, I know you can't wait to get to the REAL smackdown!
More fic recs next time!!