Merry leant down, gripped Pippin's face softly between his palms and kissed
him gently
Chapter 26: So It Begins
Sam was emotionally exhausted, but otherwise unharmed. In fact, Sam had the strong suspicion that his "arrangements" as Merry called them, were more amenable than those of poor Frodo. Merry had said nothing to him as they plodded slowly back to the house. What was there to say? Any words Sam might have come up with would be filled with bile and venom, and would have done his master nothing if not harm. So he kept his mouth closed and let Merry lead him like a prisoner to his cell.
Sam's "cell" -as it turned out, was a smallish room near the back of the house that had once obviously been used for the purposes of storage. It had a very small window at Sam's eye level that let in a frail trail of sunlight peppered with dust. A bed had been prepared for its future occupant, small and lumpy, but dressed with clean sheets and yellow linen covers that Sam remembered from Bag End. A rough-hewn set of drawers with a leg that wobbled sat by the bed. Upon its surface a large bowl of faintly steaming porridge beckoned, flanking an equally tantalizing pitcher of water. A short stretch of floor led to the other side of the room, where shelves, filled with an assortment of herb and gardening books, as well as some deep red, leather-bound volumes decorated with golden letters written in Quenya. Sam noticed that the door to the room had been cut through with a homemade peephole the size of his fist. It had been cut away with rough, sloppy strokes, hewn quickly, and with no mind toward aesthetics - probably the hasty work of a handsaw and the butt of an ax.
"Sit down, Sam," said Merry softly, patting the bed for emphasis
Sam sat awkwardly with bound hands, casting his glance about the room. Merry smiled, and opened one of the drawers. It had been filled with Sam's clothes from his bag, his shirts now neatly folded in stacks, his trousers in the second drawer.
"I've unpacked your bags, Sam. I want you to be comfortable here," said Merry as he plodded toward the bookshelf. "I've gathered all the books at Bag End and Brandy Hall that have aught to do with gardening and brought them here for you to enjoy. I also have a few of Bilbo's elven books, as I know you're fond of the fair folk's lore."
Sam cringed, remembering that had it not been for Merry, Frodo and he would have been halfway to Rivendell by this time.
"I've made you some porridge to warm you up, and water by the jug-full," continued Merry, almost ebullient. "And you'll note that this window is big enough to look through, but too small to escape from. I thought a nice view would do you good."
Sam wondered to himself if he could see pathetic little Pip at the tree from this vantage-point. Sam's thoughts of Pippin were interrupted as he saw Merry grab a length of rope from underneath the dresser. Sam flinched.
"It's not what you think, Sam," said Merry as he brought out a knife from his belt. "I'm going to unbind your wrists now, but not before I fasten one of your arms to the bed frame. You'll be able to untie yourself after I'm gone. I think you'll understand this temporary measure is just for my own protection. As I've said, I want you to be as comfortable as possible here."
Sam glanced up in confusion as Merry sat himself down on the bed beside him, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder in a positively chummy manner before fastening a long piece of rope to one of his wrists and tying the other end to the brass bed stand, then cutting through Sam's wrist bonds. Sam sighed with relief. His wrists were a deep and angry crimson.
"Sam," said Merry kindly, "I would like speak with you for a few minutes."
All of Sam's conversations with Merry these past few days had been extremely unpleasant, most filled with more curses than verbs. Why would Merry think this one would be different? But, of course, Sam knew the answer already. Frodo. Merry had Frodo to hang over his head, and his threats to harm Frodo were as restrictive as any length of rope or weapon. Sam grunted in acknowledgement, and satisfied his bloodlust by imagining himself pummeling Merry with his fists as Merry spoke.
"I know you are still furious with me, Sam. Even though you've calmed yourself down a good deal since this morning, I believe that you would still hurt me if you could."
Sam nodded. No use denying such a bold-faced truth.
"I wish that things would never have had to come to this, Sam. I wish that Frodo would have opted to stay here of his own free will, with you as our beloved guest. I would have paid you well, Sam, to do some work around the house, help us with the gardening. We all could have been so happy."
Merry stood from the bed, the brass frame creaking as he stood. He fell down upon his haunches, down so he looked up into the eyes of the servant, reaching up and grasping Sam's hands in his own. The dark gleam had left Merry's eyes, replaced by a hazy stare, his pupils like rocks underneath a murky pool.
"Sam, oh Sam," continued Merry in a pleading tone. "It doesn't have to be this way! Your life here at Crickhollow does not have to be filled with so much--" Merry paused. "Unpleasantness. We can still all live here and be happy. We can be a family again, Sam."
Sam avoided Merry's eyes. The urge to kick was becoming well nigh overwhelming, and Sam worried that hearing the word "family" escape from Merry's lips one more time would send him over the edge.
"I know you love Frodo, Sam," said Merry as Sam rolled his eyes at hearing this line of reasoning a second time. "I saw the way you kept your silence to protect him-don't think I did not notice. You are a good friend and a noble soul-just, misguided. Frodo looks up to you Sam, despite your different stations, he looks up to you. You could help me to help him. You could get him to see reason. Perhaps you are the only one who can. Sam-you are so important to the future of the Shire. Please help me! What do you say?"
Sam chose to say nothing. He just cast his glance to the far wall in stony silence.
"I know it has been very frustrating having to keep quiet these last few days, but you had to learn, Sam. I now release you from that vow. You may speak, Sam. I want you to speak to me so that I know you understand your role here. Speak!"
Merry's command could not cover the ragged desperation in his voice. Was this really the hobbit that had mercilessly whipped Sam's master to a pulp? Yes, Sam reminded himself. Yes it was. Even though Merry now seemed to have shrunk back to normal size, he knew the slightest provocation could transform him into the creature that had unleashed such malice and violence upon everyone around him. Even Pippin.
Pippin. Sam recalled how he had been cut down, Merry replacing him with his pitiable wreck of a cousin. Sam recalled vividly Pippin's woebegone expression in his mind, the unfocussed eyes brimming with anguish, the shriek that exploded from Pippin's throat the moment Merry forsook him with who knows what manner of cruel words. Sam had endured his time at the tree with fortitude, but he was made of a stronger fibre than the young Took-and that was true even before Pippin had been hollowed out and scraped raw by Merry's manipulations. Sam shuddered inwardly.
"Speak, Sam," ordered Merry again. "Share what is on your mind."
"I'll not be tricked into saying a thing about my master and your big plans for him," answered Sam evenly. "And you'll not like anything I might be havin' to say."
"I need your help Sam! The Shire needs your help!" asserted Merry, the desperation back in his voice. "If you could only get Frodo to see reason, we could dispose of all these locks, all these ropes, all of these---"
"Beatings," offered Sam icily.
"Discipline sessions," corrected Merry.
"Beatings," repeated Sam. "Beatings and plain cruelty. Take your Pip. You've broken the lad. And if you leave him as he is for long, he'll go mad or catch his death."
"No one in this family gets special treatment!" yelled Merry, suddenly emotional. "Because that is how a family works! Pippin disobeyed me. Pippin has to pay the price-just as you and Frodo did! You see, Sam, I am very fair!"
"You ain't our father, Merry and you ain't fair! Ain't none of this fair!" exclaimed Sam, realizing the minute the words left his lips that he was teetering on unsteady ground.
"But I am your Keeper!" retorted Merry. "And I shall keep you all safe and protected whether you will have it from me or not!"
Merry rose and stomped toward the door. "You will come around. All of you. No matter what it takes, you shall all come around!"
Sam heaved a sigh as soon as the door slammed shut and the lock clicked. He immediately untied his hand and stood up at the window. Indeed, he could just make out the hazy bound figure in the darkening field. Pippin's head was down, and the poor lad did not seem to be moving. The fire in Merry's eyes told Sam that Pippin would most likely be spending the night in the freezing rain. Sam had been uncomfortable, but not unbearably so. By the time Pippin had taken his place at the tree, however, the sun had lowered behind the hills and the air had gone from cool to frigid. The rain too was picking up momentum as the evening wore on, the drizzle maturing to cold hard droplets that clinked on the window like tiny nails. Pippin was out at the tree that very moment enduring all the elements without so much as a flimsy jacket. Pippin might be in too much emotional torment to notice the rain, but his poor body surely would not be immune to the punshment heaped upon it by the cold and the rain.
As Sam fixed his stare on the wretched figure slowly fading into the dark, Sam recalled his own term at the tree. He'd endured his forced "reflection time,"even benefited from it. As his aching body was cocooned tightly to the tree, Sam had hours to do nothing but live inside his head, letting his thoughts ramble to places they seldom had the time or energy to go. Sam's body had gone numb but his mind went clear. His options, once a tangle of terrible choices and ignoble ends, had woven themselves into a single tight thread of action. Sam had but one choice; he must rescue Frodo. Nothing else in Middle-earth mattered - not his own safety, not Gandalf's orders, not even the blasted Ring. Frodo. Sam must save Frodo.
How he might go about this task, Sam did not know. But Merry's treatment of Pippin boded ill for his master. What did Merry mean when he'd said they'd all come around? Would Merry try to break Frodo the same way he'd obviously broken Pip? Very likely. His Frodo was strong, wise, and mature, but how long would that protect him, Sam wondered. What if Sam could not protect him? Sam banished the thought. He would find a way to save Frodo from Merry, even if he had to sacrifice himself and all of Middle-earth to do it.
* * *
Merry had crawled under his covers with satisfaction that night. He had accomplished a great many tasks this day, difficult tasks, yet tasks of vital importance to the future of the Shire. He had retrieved the Ringbearer and his servant safely from the Old Forest and brought them back into the family fold, he had meted out the appropriate retributions for each of their actions, and settled both Sam and Frodo in their respective rooms for the night; in Sam's case, to stew, and in Frodo's case, to heal. Both would be brought around in time, and with some work.
It was a lot of pressure, this responsibility on his lone shoulders, but Merry accepted it gladly. He had been chosen to save the Shire, and that honor was its own reward. To be at his best for the hard work ahead, Merry would need to keep rested and strong. Sleep. He needed sleep. And he would need his helper. Pippin.
Merry sighed. Pippin had sorely disappointed him of late. Perhaps these tasks were overtaxing for Pippin's natural gentle nature and naïve mind. But Pippin too had to be brought in line with Merry's plans. He could not do this alone, and without Pip, Merry was outnumbered. And, Merry had to admit, he had a genuine fondness for the lad who had hung at his heels ever since he could remember. Pippin loved him, that Merry was sure of, and that gave Merry a degree of control that would be difficult to replicate with Frodo. Difficult, but not impossible. But Merry needed the help of his Pippin if he were to succeed with Frodo. He knew this. He would toughen Pippin up, and that would require a degree of suffering for little Pippin.
And for himself. Merry noted how cold it was in his bed without his soft warm young Pip wrapped around him like a second skin. Merry entertained the thought of rushing up to the tree, cutting Pippin down, and bringing him back to his bed where he belonged. No, Merry had to be strong too. Pippin would never learn to obey without question unless Merry took him to task for his transgressions.
Merry thought about how he had punished his Pip for the escape debacle. He had tied him and taken him without preparation. In the back of his head, the word "rape" floated to the surface unbidden like unsavory bracken from a stagnant pool. Had he raped Pippin? No, Pippin had agreed to it. But had Pip even known what he had agreed to? Well, they performed an act they did together on a regular basis. So how could that be rape? But was Pippin part of it this time? Merry forced down the thoughts, stuffing them to the back of his mind where they would trouble his conscience no more. Screams, cries, and the blood. Merry had tried not to look at it as he changed his sheets, but it had been there, no denying it, a crimson indictment of his own violence. Merry had stood and stared in shock at the angry red patch where he had taken his pleasure, then he'd crumpled up the sheet and tossed it into the fire like a damned thing. Had Pippin been part of it at all? No, he'd been acted upon, attacked, desecrated; he'd had no say once he'd been fastened to the bed frame like a leashed dog. Perhaps Merry should fetch the lad from the tree. The patters of raindrops could still be heard on the window. Surely Pippin had suffered enough. Wasn't it gratuitous to make him stand out in the rain with naught but a flimsy shirt? Merry swiveled on the bed, his feet stretching to the floorboards ready to setout to make right what had been so wrong.
Just as Merry's feet prepared to follow the bidding of his conscious, another voice sounded in his mind that seemed to come from outside himself. The voice reminded him what was at stake, reminded him that he'd been chosen by some higher force to do this because no one else was as uniquely suited to the task, no other hobbit had his strength of will. Sleep-Merry had never been so weary, so emotionally drained, and so sleepy in his entire life. He drew his feet back under the covers, curled up, and fell into a dark, dreamless slumber within seconds.
* * *
The rosy light streaming through his window prodded Merry awake with its warm pink fingers. Merry's first thought as he awoke had been his last thought before sleep had overtaken him the night before. Pippin! His poor Pip had spent the night tied, blindfolded, cold, wet, and alone at the tree. Merry must fetch him at once, if there was anything left to fetch.
Merry threw on his clothes, scooped water from the bedside basin on his face, and dashed about the house looking for a few things that he knew Pippin would sorely need. The kettle went over the fire, the grains for porridge set to boil, and a large jar of delectable honey placed in the center of the kitchen table, waiting for the return of the hobbit that loved it like no other. Merry threw a small blue vial, a small blanket, and a few sweet biscuits in his sack before dashing out the door to greet the rising sun and reclaim his dear over-punished Peregrin.
Pippin had awoken to a sunrise of incredible magnificence. The pale sky exploded into dazzling watercolors of dusky pink and muted violet, bathing the whole field in an ethereal radiance of rose-kissed gold. That alone would have been enough to warm his heart. But it was a sound, and not a sight that set Pippin's soul alight. Footsteps. Pippin heard a soft tread approaching behind him, squelching through the spongy, wet ground to halt at his side. He lifted his head and beheld Merry.his Merry, the stranger that had commanded his cousin's body having fled or been subdued. A great relief washed through Pip and warmed his frigid heart and he offered a soft, weary smile to his beloved.
Merry beamed at him, eclipsing the sun that was rising through the tips of the surrounding trees. He dropped the bundle he carried to his feet and reached his hands to Pippin's face, cradling it and stroking his cheeks gently with his thumbs.
"Ah, my love," whispered Merry, his eyes filled with tenderness and love. "I have missed you so."
Merry leant down, gripped Pippin's face softly between his palms and kissed him gently, Pippin leaned into the kiss and moaned in protest for the loss of contact as Merry pulled away. Merry smiled and ghosted his fingers over Pippin's face before moving his hand down to dig in his pocket.
Pippin looked up at Merry's face; his eyes filling with tears, his lower lip trembling as Merry took a small knife from his pocket and proceeded to cut Pippin free while humming a soft tune under his breath. As soon as the last cord frayed apart, Pippin fell face first toward the ground, his arms too long wrenched behind him to produce the reflex needed to break his fall. Merry grasped the back of Pippin's shirt just as his chin was about to make contact with the muddy ground below. Pippin hung, suspended ridiculously by his cousin's one-handed grip. Merry gave Pippin a low, affectionate chuckle as he used both hands to set his cousin very slowly down into sitting position upon the long soggy grass.
"Careful, Pip," Merry sighed lovingly. "It is a good thing your Merry was here to catch your fall."
Pippin slumped down on the ground, laying his body down and casting his eyes up in the direction of both the rising sun and the radiance of his Merry's face. His eyes chose to lay their attention upon Merry instead of the golden orb in the sky. Pippin gave a soft moan that was more like a mewl, and sighed out Merry's name in gratitude. Merry sat down on his haunches, gathered Pippin up into his arms, and wordlessly bid the hobbit to stand. Pippin stood shakily, and allowed himself to be walked to a nearby fallen log and sat down beside Merry. Pippin's whole body exploded in tingly warmth as Merry, his Merry, squeezed Pippin with his welcoming arms.
Merry folded Pippin to him, placing soft kisses on Pippin's wet eyelids and kissed his wrists which had red, chaffed marks around them. Pippin whimpered softly at the touch and Merry looked up at him, remorse written on his face and reaching for the bundle he had brought, he took a small vial from it.
Pippin shook his head, and made a move to scramble from Merry's arms but his cousin held him close and uncorked the bottle, Pippin trembled all over as Merry poured the contents of the vile over his hands and rubbed it into Pippin's abused wrists. Pippin's skin felt like it was burning and moaned loudly; Merry hushed him with a kiss.
"Hush Pip, it's to make you better" he whispered smoothing down Pippin's hair.
Pippin stopped struggling and lay lifelessly in Merry's arms as he worked the cream into Pippin's wrists. When Merry was finished he kissed Pippin again and took out the small dry blanket and wrapped Pippin in its comforting folds. Merry lifted Pippin up in a blanketed bundle and strolled through the dew-kissed grass. Merry felt Pippin's head loll down to him for support and comfort, and Merry smiled tenderly. Merry carried Pippin back to the house while Pippin looked at him, a small smile playing on his features. He had survived his punishment, he had shown Merry he was an adult and he had won Merry's love back.
As they passed through the threshold, Merry wondered again if he had been too hard on the boy, leaving him out in the elements all night. A sudden wave of tenderness washed over Merry, a desire to make all the hurts he had inflicted vanish through his love and care. Merry noted with dismay that Pippin's breaths had grown thick and uneven, as if he were trying to breathe through a thick, wet rag. Pippin had caught a chill and needed to be warmed. A bath, tea, and hot nourishing porridge, that was just what Pippin needed! Merry did not wish to consider the emotional hurt his punishment had wrought upon Pippin. It was Pippin who reminded him.
"Merry," whispered Pippin in a small voice. "Do I exist? Is this real?"
"Oh course love," soothed Merry as he set Pippin gently on the bed. "You exist now because I have reclaimed you. You are a bit damaged and you'll need to let your Merry stitch you back together again. You'll let me do that, won't you love?"
Pippin nodded and then burst into such a profound fit of sobbing that Merry forgot about everything but the need to soothe, rock, and shush his Pippin. Pippin quieted, but had begun to shudder uncontrollably. Merry decided the wet clothes had to go. Merry kissed Pippin's forehead before beginning to gently strip Pippin of his clothes. Pippin had some difficulty with his shirt since his arms where stiff for being stretched behind him for so long. Merry seemed to know this because he took Pippin's right arm and rubbed it up and down quickly. Slowly the ache in his muscles began to decrease and Pippin was able to help Merry undress him further. When Pippin was completely naked, Merry buttressed Pippin's back with a too-high stack of pillows, covered him with the bed sheets, and tucked the blankets tightly around him. His damp clothes Merry hung on chairs by the fire to dry. Merry was not sure, but thought he might have detected the scent of urine on the trousers, but pushed the possibility form his mind. His Pippin would be just fine.
Merry kissed Pippin softly again, wondering to himself what he had to do to chase that miserable forlorn look from his cousin's eyes.
"Stay there, love," cooed Merry. "I've got just the thing to warm you up!"
Merry left for a while and Pippin fell into a light sleep which he woke from quickly when he felt Merry's lips touch his again.
"Wake up, Pippin. I've brought you piping hot peppermint tea with far too much honey, just as you like it, and some porridge drowning in syrup. Pippin smiled sleepily, as if caught in a wondrous dream. The scent of peppermint wafted around the bed, the steam rising up and clearing his senses. Pippin made to free his hands from the covers to take the delicious tea, but Merry would not have it. He patted Pippin's hands back down to their sheltered position.
"Let Merry take care of you!" said Merry tenderly.
Merry lifted the cup to Pippin's lips and supported the back of his head with his palm.
"There, there, drink, lad. Let it warm you from the inside out."
And Pippin drank, throwing Merry a look of adoration between each sip. The same routine was repeated as Merry hand-fed Pippin the porridge, something he had not done since before Pippin had passed his second winter.
When Merry was satisfied that Pippin had eaten as much as he could, Merry lifted Pippin up again and carried him to the bathtub that was now filled with hot steaming water, and he slowly lowered Pippin into it. Pippin hissed as the warm water enfolded him, but Merry hushed him again, assuring him that he needed to be warmed after his long night outside. Merry began to rub his back and Pippin looked up at him, a small smile on his lips.
"Will you.will you join me?" Pippin asked softly.
Merry beamed at Pippin, feeling forgiven somehow, and unsure why it was important, yet knowing it was. Merry quickly shed his clothes, and slipped into the bath with his Pippin. Pippin wound his arms about Merry's neck and kissed him passionately, all hot and wet, and Merry returned his kiss with eagerness. And for that brief moment, Merry was not sure who controlled whom.
* * * Frodo awoke with a hangover, or something so much like one that the difference didn't really matter. The soothing quality of the tea had worn off, leaving only the sickly residue of dizziness and nausea that so often accompanied mornings after having spent far too much time at the inn with Sam and several tankards the night before.
His back felt tight and hot, as if it had been assaulted by dozens of angry bees of unnatural size. And his hands-Frodo wondered to himself if he would ever be given free reign of his arms again. He detested being bound and detested even more the feeling of helplessness that accompanied it.
The feeling of confusion and grogginess had not yet loosed its hold on his brain and he tried to force his sluggish mind to focus on his present state and the manner in which he had come to it. The events of the night before made a slow march behind his eyes but his mind could not accept the fact that he had actually lived them - that these things had actually happened to him. It seemed a distant dream in which he was an observer rather than an active participant, as though all the events of the night before had happened to someone else entirely.
He forced his head to move on the pillow and gazed blearily at the bonds attaching his wrists to the bed. Concentrating all of his effort, he attempted to bring the knot on his left wrist into focus, but it was useless. No amount of blinking or staring would clear the blur from his vision and he wondered distractedly if the tea Merry had administered caused blindness.
Still, he wondered if he were able to get his teeth on the knot, perhaps he could manage to untie it before Merry returned and inflicted further abuse on him. He stared at the knot stupidly, trying to concentrate all of his effort into raising himself on his knees and leaning toward the head of the bed. He managed to plant his knees into the mattress and was just attempting to shift his weight to his elbows when a wave of dizziness struck him and blackness clouded his vision.
Scarcely had the motes cleared from behind Frodo's eyelids, when Merry burst in the room, shadowed by Pippin. Merry held a steaming bowl of sweet- smelling porridge topped with berries as Pippin clanked behind with a teakettle and several cups that banged together as he walked.
"Good Morrow, Frodo!" chirped Merry, setting his burden down on the bed stand with a ceremonious flourish. "Breakfast in bed for my dear cousin!"
Frodo stared at them both, more confused than annoyed. Was he not their prisoner?
"Time to get you up, lazybones!" sang Merry. Frodo felt the coolness of metal grazing across his wrists. Merry had cut his bonds.
"Up you go!" Merry gently rolled Frodo first upon his side, then up into a sitting position. Great care was taken so as not to irritate his abused back though Frodo dully noted the sharp, stinging sensation that began to pulse at the wounds where the delicate, newly formed scabs stretched and pulled at the movement. "Time to get you dressed!"
Frodo was too groggy to protest. His hands had been freed, and this was one gift he dared not question.
Frodo allowed Merry to dress him though his mind yammered in weak protest at his own seeming helplessness and gnawed at the haze of his consciousness. Merry pulled Frodo off the bed and set him gingerly upon a waiting stool. Frodo dug his fingernails into the stool in the losing battle to keep upright without swaying. Merry noticed Frodo's struggling and, smiling, steadied Frodo's shoulders before lacing his limp arms through a crisp, white shirt.
"Your back may sully this garment a little," said Merry as he fastened the carved wooden buttons, "But I had this shirt made especially for you, and I wanted to see it on you."
Frodo's eyes caught sight of his initials sewn into the collar with emerald green thread. This garment had been crafted with great care.
Merry helped Frodo stand on his shaky legs, easing first one foot, then the other into the trousers. The trousers were of fine blue linen with a perfect crease down the sides. They were obviously new and, from the fit, had been made with Frodo's measurements in mind.
"I hope you like these trousers, Frodo," purred Merry. "I thought the blue would bring out your eyes. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed some of your clothes from Bag End to get these fitted."
Frodo did not speak, instead letting his chin drop down to his chest where his eyes could focus on the Ring and locket dangling down his collar and swinging against his chest on their chain. Frodo finally glanced up as Merry pulled the embroidered braces over his shoulders, giving them a playful snap as he let go.
"Perfect!" exclaimed Merry. "A lovely new set of clothes to celebrate your homecoming!"
Frodo winced. Merry did not notice, or pretended not to as he lifted the teakettle jauntily and poured two steaming cups of tea.
"You'll want for nothing here, Frodo. You'll see!"
"I want my freedom," snapped Frodo, amazed at his own unexpected mental clarity.
"You will have freedom," replied Merry. "Freedom from worry, freedom from labor, freedom from a tremendous burden that you should never have had to bear alone!"
"I was not bearing it alone," grumbled Frodo. "I had Sam with me." Frodo paused a moment before continuing on with the obvious. "And speaking of whom---"
"Sam is fine," answered Merry. "He's being tended to."
"Which is my greatest fear." Frodo's situation had caused him to wax facetious.
The sound of jagged rheumy snores turned Frodo's attentions away from Merry. Pippin had conked out in a chair near the bed, his head lolling back at an unfriendly angle, his hands quivering, even in slumber. For the first time, Frodo noticed how truly awful Pippin looked-two shades paler than normal, eyes sunken down and festooned with large bags, hair disheveled, and despite his clean clothes, smelling slightly of urine.
Frodo threw Merry an accusatory glance.
"Pippin did not sleep well," explained Merry.
"He looks like death warmed over, and I'll warrant you had something to do with it," said Frodo with neither malice nor warmth.
"Well, let's eat then," said Merry, ignoring the comment. Merry stepped around the bed to rouse Pippin. The sleeping hobbit awoke, embarrassed, eyes filled with sleep and guilt. Merry whispered something into his young cousin's ear and the guilty look Pippin flashed him made Frodo instantly uneasy as Merry came back around toward him. Pippin approached the pair with a noticeable limp. Merry stood behind Frodo and with no warning, pulled Frodo's arms gently but firmly behind him and tied them. The binds were of soft cloth and did not cut into Frodo's wrists, yet binds they were, and Frodo detested them.
"I thought I was to eat!" cried Frodo.
Merry ruffled Frodo's curls affectionately. "You are going to eat," said Merry. "And I'm going to feed you."
Anger filled Frodo's battered body with an unknown strength. Frodo leapt up and stood on his own two feet, steady and unafraid.
"Meriadoc!" yelled Frodo with a mien of authority he had not used on Merry since he'd been knee-high. "Enough with the binds! How long do you intend to hold us here against our will? You cannot keep me bound forever! Do you hope for me to change my mind? I tell you, Merry, I shall not! I shall never. I've no need to lie to you anymore. I'm older than you, and-if you'll have the truth, a fair share wiser as well. I shall not be bullied. I shall not be reduced. What you have done is reprehensible. You may have destroyed so much more than my back-SO much more, Merry. Thank you for the new clothes, but they are a pale substitute for my freedom and self- respect. Now unbind me, Cousin!"
Merry sat impassively through Frodo's diatribe, waiting quietly for Frodo to stop. Frodo glared at Merry, standing his ground like a rooted thing, watching in exasperation as Merry calmly sipped a steaming cup of tea. The rage in Frodo's eyes only increased as Merry's flat expression transformed into a malicious smirk.
"Are you done fuming, Frodo dear," asked Merry blithely. "Is your tantrum spent?"
Frodo raised his eyebrows in exasperation, utterly flummoxed. "I am NOT a child!" Frodo protested in a voice so loud it echoed and spun around the small room to land painfully in Pippin's ears. Pippin visibly shuddered at the memories of his own voice uttering those words. "Untie my hands and allow me a semblance of dignity, will you!"
"Just relax, Frodo," soothed Merry. "There is great dignity in giving yourself over to another's care. Let me take care of you." Merry lifted the spoon to Frodo's mouth. It did smell lovely.
"I shall not eat as a babe!" cried Frodo. "I shall not!"
"Then," said Merry as he picked up the bowl. "You shall not eat at all."
"Meriadoc!" Frodo raged. "Untie me!" Frodo swung round so that his bound hands faced his captor, his hands clinched in fists, and his knuckles white and protruding. As if his very action would compel Merry to do his bidding.
Merry set his teacup down with a small click as porcelain tapped porcelain. Merry stood, wearing a smile laced with sarcasm-a smile that Frodo could not see. Placing a sturdy hand on Frodo's shoulders and heedless of the crimson stains blotting the crisp, white linen, he spun his cousin to face him. Frodo's face contorted with rage.
"Sit. Down," ordered Merry, forcing Frodo back into his chair with a mighty push sending new shocks of pain through his back as it hit the unyielding wood. Merry then turned to pick up the bowl of porridge as if nothing had happened and held a heaping spoonful to Frodo's mouth.
"Open wide, Love," said Merry in an infuriatingly tender voice. "I know you're hungry."
All of Frodo's rage accumulated in a single motion. He leapt back up to his feet, drew back a large furry foot, and kicked the bowl out of Merry's hand-sending it flying across the room and crashing loudly on the opposite wall before shattering in an explosion of porcelain and porridge. Frodo was breathing hard and uneven. Feral aggression filled his eyes like those of a hound who will not be crossed.
"I shall not be coddled!" he raged. "I've half a mind to send you to the same fate as the porridge bowl! Now, Merry-Untie me! Damn you, cousin, untie me!"
Merry remained frighteningly calm, wiping the splatters of porridge from his fingers before making a move.
"That," Merry began in a calm but icy tone, "will be your last meal for a long while."
"I didn't say that I didn't want the food!" cried Frodo defiantly, "I said I didn't want you to feed me. But while we are on the topic of things I don't want-I do not want to be here, I do not want to be separated from Sam, I do not want to be detained any longer, I do not want to be hit, I do not want you to be my keeper! You've no right to hold us here against our will!"
"I've every right," hissed Merry. "You are not in your right mind Frodo, and you've just proven it by lashing out at me without cause. And until you come around, you will be my most precious and beloved captive. Eventually you shall stay of your own free will as my guest. But you are simply not ready yet, as your actions clearly show."
"And I suppose my back bears the marks of your hospitality, Merry?" growled Frodo venomously. "It is YOU who are not of sound mind, Merry, YOU!"
Frodo emphasized this point by kicking Merry's chair, toppling it over with a loud clatter. He'd not been this primed for a fight since his first stormy confrontation with Lotho Sackville-Baggins in his early tweens. Frodo had been bested then, but not by much, and Lotho limped home with a bloodied nose as the price for his victory. Frodo had shown then that looks could be deceiving, and that true strength had lain dormant in that willowy, bookish exterior. Frodo was indeed a Baggins, and a Brandybuck, and a little Took to boot. He'd go down fighting, and perhaps if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't go down at all.
Merry glanced down at the fallen chair, grinning eerily as he righted it with a commanding thud. Merry met Frodo's fiery stare with one of his own, like two rams positioning for a fight. To Frodo's surprise, Merry did not strike him. Instead he smiled wanly like a mother who refused to chastise a toddler who is well past a nap.
"I believe, Frodo, that you won't be untied for good while either."
Only a thin strip of cloth stood between Merry's jaw and the punch Frodo's fist longed to deliver. He was beyond courtesy, beyond bestowing his cousin with the respect Merry so blatantly withheld from him.
As Frodo contemplated his next foray into vituperative fury, he realized with dismay that his bladder was filled to the point of pain. It was an ache stronger than hunger, stronger than even anger. Frodo willed himself to form a non-incendiary request.
"Merry," said Frodo, suddenly composed. "I need to relieve myself. No food, no freedom-I think you owe me at least this one courtesy."
Merry burst out in a short but loud peal of laughter as he grasped Frodo's forearm. "Finally an impulse that even your stubbornness won't override. Yes, come. It will be my pleasure."
Merry led Frodo to the door, Pippin following silently and spectorlike behind. Merry stopped at the front door to tie a length of rope around Frodo's neck explaining that should Frodo pull or struggle, the knot would slip and the noose tighten with obvious consequences. It was humiliating, but wholly expected. Frodo's insides were so close to bursting, he did not even protest with a sigh.
The three hobbits marched up to the outhouse, then came to a halt before its door. Frodo cast Merry a sidelong glance. "Well?" he huffed.
"Well, what?" asked Merry.
"Come now, Merry," said Frodo in irritation and no little discomfort. "I can't do it with my hands behind my back, and I hope this is at least one matter you have no desire to 'help' me with."
"That is where you are wrong," said Merry. "I do. I want you to get to trust me, to lean on me. And you cannot hold out forever, so I suggest you let me assist you."
Frodo threw Merry a disbelieving glance. Frodo was disgusted and dismayed. Would he be allowed no self-determination?
"Let me tend you, Frodo," said Merry. "There's nothing you can do with your own hands that I can't do for you."
"You cannot be serious, Meriadoc!" cried Frodo. "Let me retain some frail semblance of dignity! I shan't run! I cannot with this misbegotten noose around my neck. Just for a minute. Please." Frodo was very nearly begging. Merry was unmoved.
"Do you have to go or not?" asked Merry in a more threatening tone. "I am here to help. Trust me with this. Trust me with everything. I'll take care of you. You may let me assist you, or we can march back to your room where your only option will be to soil your bed. It is your choice while I have a mind to still offer it."
Frodo growled, but seeing no other choice he relented. He'd not been so humiliated in all of his life. He wasn't sure which was more demeaning, Merry's help itself, or the joy he seemed to take in bestowing it. Frodo felt both impotent and infantile, which, he assumed, was exactly the result that Merry had hoped for. He'd lowered Frodo several notches without raising a hand. On the walk back to the house, Frodo trudged like a prisoner, not like the self-assured hobbit he had been just minutes before. He lowered his head, shamefaced.
"That wasn't so bad, was it Frodo?" chirped Merry as he set the leash down to open the door.
Frodo's anger resurged, and without thinking, Frodo's foot flew up and kicked Merry to the ground. Merry sprang up, leash in hand, and with a quick, oxygen-depriving tug, had his captive under control again.
"Pippin!" ordered Merry. "Pippin-we'll need another length of rope here. Frodo's just lost his walking privileges."
Frodo glared at Merry as Merry took the rope from Pippin, still holding Frodo's leash taut.
"Sit down on the ground, Frodo," ordered Merry in a gentle but commanding tone. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be. I do not like to deprive you of air."
Frodo sneered but complied. As Merry wrapped the cord around his ankles, Frodo noted Merry humming a hobbit drinking song obscenely out-of place in the current situation. Merry stood himself up, looking over Frodo as if he were a disobedient puppy.
"Are there any other privileges you wish to lose for yourself, Frodo?" asked Merry darkly. "Because in case you haven't guessed it, it is I and not you who is in complete control here."
"What else can you take away from me, Merry? What's left that you can strip me of without killing me?" asked Frodo bitterly. "What else?"
Merry smiled wickedly as he motioned for Pippin to help him carry Frodo back to his room.
"More than you can guess, Frodo," said Merry. "More than you can even dare to imagine."
TBC
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Story Recs!
I have finished moving, and have had some time to cruise ffnet for some hidden jewels!
First, I must suggest my regulars, just in case you have not seen them!
First Iorhael's Nasty Hobbitsess-which was my inspiration, is a must-read for those who love Frodo angst and are secretly in love with Evil! Merry. I am her beta, and I can say the story never ceased to surprise me!
And-here is a treat-iorhael has just begun to post a brand new fic called "taken" in which Sauron is able to capture part of Frodo's "essence" when he puts the ring on at the prancing Pony. It is one of the most unusual plotlines you will read, and I know you will like it! Great for Frodo angst.
And my beta, Aratlithiel, has some simply fantastic stories-she is not new to writing -but new to posting-and her tales will just knock you on your ***. Her newest fic is called "Wings of Eagles" which has a huge wingspan of uber-angst (har, har!) and is a follow-up to the amazing "At Sammath Naur." Read everything she posts-as you will not be disappointed!
MBradford's newest tale (on the Banks of the Brandywine) deals with a painful event in frodo's past in which he is captured by big folk and-well, you just have to read! She stole my beta, but I guess I don't begrudge her because good beta's are hard to come by-esp one as good as mine! You must read all her fics! Oh-and I will take credit for asking her to make the kidnapping a long, drawn out ordeal for angst purposes! ;)
The failure, By Krista, deals with a Frodo that actually is captured by Saraman. See what happens in this mystery of an AU
Realized by Calla is an interesting take on a Frodo in love with Pip and Merry gets in the way until the unimaginable happens! GO check it out! She had just updated.
"Slowly Breaking" by Julia addressed Frodo in cirith ungol, with a twist. If you like this fic, I'm sure you will enjoys hers-and if she gets reviews, I bet she will update soon!!
Salysha has a great fic that I stumbled upon late one night that has not gotten the reviews it deserves! It is called "one by One they will fall" and is an AU describing how the ring slowly claims the members of the fellowship. Please check it out.
Natta has just finished the Prey, and I have a picture posted for this one on the Merry/pip Lovers site under Emma's misc pics. I'm sure she would love to here from you.
Trust NO One has posted her first fan fic which is really worth checking out. It deals with Frodo at the cracks of doom-but not like you've seen it before. Wonderful Frodo-sam angst. Please review this and all fics you like!!
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To the reviewers!
Sue-thank you for writing to me personally! It means a lot! And I just got your email asking when I would update! LOL! The answer is NOW!
Chloe Amethyst- Why thank you for the in-depth reviews! Really make doing this writing worth it to know people like it. And goddess of hobbit angst- oooh! Do I get superpowers to go with that title?? (Blushes) well-thank you so much!
Trust No One-I did get your mail, and really-thank you so much for taking the time to write. I hope you will continue to read and talk to us!
Iorhael - Pippin is very naïve-but he has a good heart. Merry really does deserve something! Hmnmmmm!
TC the Hobbit-thank you so much! Great to see another new face. (
QTPie - Frodo will remain strong for a while yet. I hope you liked him in this chapter!
Camellia Gamgee-Took - Well-frodo got in a few good licks here-I hope that counted!
Krista - you are wrong! And how was Frodo fight scene? There will be more to come!
Calla -LOL! I loved your repeat sentence joke! And there are parts I just don't write well, and I know authors that do-so I asked them, and they said okay. I have done illustrations for both of those authors too!
Endymion -well that was the ring talking-the real Merry pops up in the chapter, but the ring will not let this hobbit be! Thanks for the quote pics!
Maikafuiniel - thank you for reviewing! I love new faces! And Sam is going to have a very difficult time, as he is a hobbit of action, and cannot bear to be passive and see his master suffer. Pip got some comfort here-yes?
Aratlithiel-My Beta!!!! Boy-I just am itching to have everyone read your chapters soon!!!!
Julia-okay-I will mention your story-look for it in my story recs!! And I'm so glad you like the tale and I hope you keep coming back to talk to us!
MBradford - I found Frodo! And he's in this chapter! Oh-I have got to go and read your story-and yes-I'll suggest it too! Thank you for always reviewing!
Zorra-I'm not glad I made you cry-but, I guess that means I'm doing my job as a writer! So glad you reviewed!
Chapter 26: So It Begins
Sam was emotionally exhausted, but otherwise unharmed. In fact, Sam had the strong suspicion that his "arrangements" as Merry called them, were more amenable than those of poor Frodo. Merry had said nothing to him as they plodded slowly back to the house. What was there to say? Any words Sam might have come up with would be filled with bile and venom, and would have done his master nothing if not harm. So he kept his mouth closed and let Merry lead him like a prisoner to his cell.
Sam's "cell" -as it turned out, was a smallish room near the back of the house that had once obviously been used for the purposes of storage. It had a very small window at Sam's eye level that let in a frail trail of sunlight peppered with dust. A bed had been prepared for its future occupant, small and lumpy, but dressed with clean sheets and yellow linen covers that Sam remembered from Bag End. A rough-hewn set of drawers with a leg that wobbled sat by the bed. Upon its surface a large bowl of faintly steaming porridge beckoned, flanking an equally tantalizing pitcher of water. A short stretch of floor led to the other side of the room, where shelves, filled with an assortment of herb and gardening books, as well as some deep red, leather-bound volumes decorated with golden letters written in Quenya. Sam noticed that the door to the room had been cut through with a homemade peephole the size of his fist. It had been cut away with rough, sloppy strokes, hewn quickly, and with no mind toward aesthetics - probably the hasty work of a handsaw and the butt of an ax.
"Sit down, Sam," said Merry softly, patting the bed for emphasis
Sam sat awkwardly with bound hands, casting his glance about the room. Merry smiled, and opened one of the drawers. It had been filled with Sam's clothes from his bag, his shirts now neatly folded in stacks, his trousers in the second drawer.
"I've unpacked your bags, Sam. I want you to be comfortable here," said Merry as he plodded toward the bookshelf. "I've gathered all the books at Bag End and Brandy Hall that have aught to do with gardening and brought them here for you to enjoy. I also have a few of Bilbo's elven books, as I know you're fond of the fair folk's lore."
Sam cringed, remembering that had it not been for Merry, Frodo and he would have been halfway to Rivendell by this time.
"I've made you some porridge to warm you up, and water by the jug-full," continued Merry, almost ebullient. "And you'll note that this window is big enough to look through, but too small to escape from. I thought a nice view would do you good."
Sam wondered to himself if he could see pathetic little Pip at the tree from this vantage-point. Sam's thoughts of Pippin were interrupted as he saw Merry grab a length of rope from underneath the dresser. Sam flinched.
"It's not what you think, Sam," said Merry as he brought out a knife from his belt. "I'm going to unbind your wrists now, but not before I fasten one of your arms to the bed frame. You'll be able to untie yourself after I'm gone. I think you'll understand this temporary measure is just for my own protection. As I've said, I want you to be as comfortable as possible here."
Sam glanced up in confusion as Merry sat himself down on the bed beside him, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder in a positively chummy manner before fastening a long piece of rope to one of his wrists and tying the other end to the brass bed stand, then cutting through Sam's wrist bonds. Sam sighed with relief. His wrists were a deep and angry crimson.
"Sam," said Merry kindly, "I would like speak with you for a few minutes."
All of Sam's conversations with Merry these past few days had been extremely unpleasant, most filled with more curses than verbs. Why would Merry think this one would be different? But, of course, Sam knew the answer already. Frodo. Merry had Frodo to hang over his head, and his threats to harm Frodo were as restrictive as any length of rope or weapon. Sam grunted in acknowledgement, and satisfied his bloodlust by imagining himself pummeling Merry with his fists as Merry spoke.
"I know you are still furious with me, Sam. Even though you've calmed yourself down a good deal since this morning, I believe that you would still hurt me if you could."
Sam nodded. No use denying such a bold-faced truth.
"I wish that things would never have had to come to this, Sam. I wish that Frodo would have opted to stay here of his own free will, with you as our beloved guest. I would have paid you well, Sam, to do some work around the house, help us with the gardening. We all could have been so happy."
Merry stood from the bed, the brass frame creaking as he stood. He fell down upon his haunches, down so he looked up into the eyes of the servant, reaching up and grasping Sam's hands in his own. The dark gleam had left Merry's eyes, replaced by a hazy stare, his pupils like rocks underneath a murky pool.
"Sam, oh Sam," continued Merry in a pleading tone. "It doesn't have to be this way! Your life here at Crickhollow does not have to be filled with so much--" Merry paused. "Unpleasantness. We can still all live here and be happy. We can be a family again, Sam."
Sam avoided Merry's eyes. The urge to kick was becoming well nigh overwhelming, and Sam worried that hearing the word "family" escape from Merry's lips one more time would send him over the edge.
"I know you love Frodo, Sam," said Merry as Sam rolled his eyes at hearing this line of reasoning a second time. "I saw the way you kept your silence to protect him-don't think I did not notice. You are a good friend and a noble soul-just, misguided. Frodo looks up to you Sam, despite your different stations, he looks up to you. You could help me to help him. You could get him to see reason. Perhaps you are the only one who can. Sam-you are so important to the future of the Shire. Please help me! What do you say?"
Sam chose to say nothing. He just cast his glance to the far wall in stony silence.
"I know it has been very frustrating having to keep quiet these last few days, but you had to learn, Sam. I now release you from that vow. You may speak, Sam. I want you to speak to me so that I know you understand your role here. Speak!"
Merry's command could not cover the ragged desperation in his voice. Was this really the hobbit that had mercilessly whipped Sam's master to a pulp? Yes, Sam reminded himself. Yes it was. Even though Merry now seemed to have shrunk back to normal size, he knew the slightest provocation could transform him into the creature that had unleashed such malice and violence upon everyone around him. Even Pippin.
Pippin. Sam recalled how he had been cut down, Merry replacing him with his pitiable wreck of a cousin. Sam recalled vividly Pippin's woebegone expression in his mind, the unfocussed eyes brimming with anguish, the shriek that exploded from Pippin's throat the moment Merry forsook him with who knows what manner of cruel words. Sam had endured his time at the tree with fortitude, but he was made of a stronger fibre than the young Took-and that was true even before Pippin had been hollowed out and scraped raw by Merry's manipulations. Sam shuddered inwardly.
"Speak, Sam," ordered Merry again. "Share what is on your mind."
"I'll not be tricked into saying a thing about my master and your big plans for him," answered Sam evenly. "And you'll not like anything I might be havin' to say."
"I need your help Sam! The Shire needs your help!" asserted Merry, the desperation back in his voice. "If you could only get Frodo to see reason, we could dispose of all these locks, all these ropes, all of these---"
"Beatings," offered Sam icily.
"Discipline sessions," corrected Merry.
"Beatings," repeated Sam. "Beatings and plain cruelty. Take your Pip. You've broken the lad. And if you leave him as he is for long, he'll go mad or catch his death."
"No one in this family gets special treatment!" yelled Merry, suddenly emotional. "Because that is how a family works! Pippin disobeyed me. Pippin has to pay the price-just as you and Frodo did! You see, Sam, I am very fair!"
"You ain't our father, Merry and you ain't fair! Ain't none of this fair!" exclaimed Sam, realizing the minute the words left his lips that he was teetering on unsteady ground.
"But I am your Keeper!" retorted Merry. "And I shall keep you all safe and protected whether you will have it from me or not!"
Merry rose and stomped toward the door. "You will come around. All of you. No matter what it takes, you shall all come around!"
Sam heaved a sigh as soon as the door slammed shut and the lock clicked. He immediately untied his hand and stood up at the window. Indeed, he could just make out the hazy bound figure in the darkening field. Pippin's head was down, and the poor lad did not seem to be moving. The fire in Merry's eyes told Sam that Pippin would most likely be spending the night in the freezing rain. Sam had been uncomfortable, but not unbearably so. By the time Pippin had taken his place at the tree, however, the sun had lowered behind the hills and the air had gone from cool to frigid. The rain too was picking up momentum as the evening wore on, the drizzle maturing to cold hard droplets that clinked on the window like tiny nails. Pippin was out at the tree that very moment enduring all the elements without so much as a flimsy jacket. Pippin might be in too much emotional torment to notice the rain, but his poor body surely would not be immune to the punshment heaped upon it by the cold and the rain.
As Sam fixed his stare on the wretched figure slowly fading into the dark, Sam recalled his own term at the tree. He'd endured his forced "reflection time,"even benefited from it. As his aching body was cocooned tightly to the tree, Sam had hours to do nothing but live inside his head, letting his thoughts ramble to places they seldom had the time or energy to go. Sam's body had gone numb but his mind went clear. His options, once a tangle of terrible choices and ignoble ends, had woven themselves into a single tight thread of action. Sam had but one choice; he must rescue Frodo. Nothing else in Middle-earth mattered - not his own safety, not Gandalf's orders, not even the blasted Ring. Frodo. Sam must save Frodo.
How he might go about this task, Sam did not know. But Merry's treatment of Pippin boded ill for his master. What did Merry mean when he'd said they'd all come around? Would Merry try to break Frodo the same way he'd obviously broken Pip? Very likely. His Frodo was strong, wise, and mature, but how long would that protect him, Sam wondered. What if Sam could not protect him? Sam banished the thought. He would find a way to save Frodo from Merry, even if he had to sacrifice himself and all of Middle-earth to do it.
* * *
Merry had crawled under his covers with satisfaction that night. He had accomplished a great many tasks this day, difficult tasks, yet tasks of vital importance to the future of the Shire. He had retrieved the Ringbearer and his servant safely from the Old Forest and brought them back into the family fold, he had meted out the appropriate retributions for each of their actions, and settled both Sam and Frodo in their respective rooms for the night; in Sam's case, to stew, and in Frodo's case, to heal. Both would be brought around in time, and with some work.
It was a lot of pressure, this responsibility on his lone shoulders, but Merry accepted it gladly. He had been chosen to save the Shire, and that honor was its own reward. To be at his best for the hard work ahead, Merry would need to keep rested and strong. Sleep. He needed sleep. And he would need his helper. Pippin.
Merry sighed. Pippin had sorely disappointed him of late. Perhaps these tasks were overtaxing for Pippin's natural gentle nature and naïve mind. But Pippin too had to be brought in line with Merry's plans. He could not do this alone, and without Pip, Merry was outnumbered. And, Merry had to admit, he had a genuine fondness for the lad who had hung at his heels ever since he could remember. Pippin loved him, that Merry was sure of, and that gave Merry a degree of control that would be difficult to replicate with Frodo. Difficult, but not impossible. But Merry needed the help of his Pippin if he were to succeed with Frodo. He knew this. He would toughen Pippin up, and that would require a degree of suffering for little Pippin.
And for himself. Merry noted how cold it was in his bed without his soft warm young Pip wrapped around him like a second skin. Merry entertained the thought of rushing up to the tree, cutting Pippin down, and bringing him back to his bed where he belonged. No, Merry had to be strong too. Pippin would never learn to obey without question unless Merry took him to task for his transgressions.
Merry thought about how he had punished his Pip for the escape debacle. He had tied him and taken him without preparation. In the back of his head, the word "rape" floated to the surface unbidden like unsavory bracken from a stagnant pool. Had he raped Pippin? No, Pippin had agreed to it. But had Pip even known what he had agreed to? Well, they performed an act they did together on a regular basis. So how could that be rape? But was Pippin part of it this time? Merry forced down the thoughts, stuffing them to the back of his mind where they would trouble his conscience no more. Screams, cries, and the blood. Merry had tried not to look at it as he changed his sheets, but it had been there, no denying it, a crimson indictment of his own violence. Merry had stood and stared in shock at the angry red patch where he had taken his pleasure, then he'd crumpled up the sheet and tossed it into the fire like a damned thing. Had Pippin been part of it at all? No, he'd been acted upon, attacked, desecrated; he'd had no say once he'd been fastened to the bed frame like a leashed dog. Perhaps Merry should fetch the lad from the tree. The patters of raindrops could still be heard on the window. Surely Pippin had suffered enough. Wasn't it gratuitous to make him stand out in the rain with naught but a flimsy shirt? Merry swiveled on the bed, his feet stretching to the floorboards ready to setout to make right what had been so wrong.
Just as Merry's feet prepared to follow the bidding of his conscious, another voice sounded in his mind that seemed to come from outside himself. The voice reminded him what was at stake, reminded him that he'd been chosen by some higher force to do this because no one else was as uniquely suited to the task, no other hobbit had his strength of will. Sleep-Merry had never been so weary, so emotionally drained, and so sleepy in his entire life. He drew his feet back under the covers, curled up, and fell into a dark, dreamless slumber within seconds.
* * *
The rosy light streaming through his window prodded Merry awake with its warm pink fingers. Merry's first thought as he awoke had been his last thought before sleep had overtaken him the night before. Pippin! His poor Pip had spent the night tied, blindfolded, cold, wet, and alone at the tree. Merry must fetch him at once, if there was anything left to fetch.
Merry threw on his clothes, scooped water from the bedside basin on his face, and dashed about the house looking for a few things that he knew Pippin would sorely need. The kettle went over the fire, the grains for porridge set to boil, and a large jar of delectable honey placed in the center of the kitchen table, waiting for the return of the hobbit that loved it like no other. Merry threw a small blue vial, a small blanket, and a few sweet biscuits in his sack before dashing out the door to greet the rising sun and reclaim his dear over-punished Peregrin.
Pippin had awoken to a sunrise of incredible magnificence. The pale sky exploded into dazzling watercolors of dusky pink and muted violet, bathing the whole field in an ethereal radiance of rose-kissed gold. That alone would have been enough to warm his heart. But it was a sound, and not a sight that set Pippin's soul alight. Footsteps. Pippin heard a soft tread approaching behind him, squelching through the spongy, wet ground to halt at his side. He lifted his head and beheld Merry.his Merry, the stranger that had commanded his cousin's body having fled or been subdued. A great relief washed through Pip and warmed his frigid heart and he offered a soft, weary smile to his beloved.
Merry beamed at him, eclipsing the sun that was rising through the tips of the surrounding trees. He dropped the bundle he carried to his feet and reached his hands to Pippin's face, cradling it and stroking his cheeks gently with his thumbs.
"Ah, my love," whispered Merry, his eyes filled with tenderness and love. "I have missed you so."
Merry leant down, gripped Pippin's face softly between his palms and kissed him gently, Pippin leaned into the kiss and moaned in protest for the loss of contact as Merry pulled away. Merry smiled and ghosted his fingers over Pippin's face before moving his hand down to dig in his pocket.
Pippin looked up at Merry's face; his eyes filling with tears, his lower lip trembling as Merry took a small knife from his pocket and proceeded to cut Pippin free while humming a soft tune under his breath. As soon as the last cord frayed apart, Pippin fell face first toward the ground, his arms too long wrenched behind him to produce the reflex needed to break his fall. Merry grasped the back of Pippin's shirt just as his chin was about to make contact with the muddy ground below. Pippin hung, suspended ridiculously by his cousin's one-handed grip. Merry gave Pippin a low, affectionate chuckle as he used both hands to set his cousin very slowly down into sitting position upon the long soggy grass.
"Careful, Pip," Merry sighed lovingly. "It is a good thing your Merry was here to catch your fall."
Pippin slumped down on the ground, laying his body down and casting his eyes up in the direction of both the rising sun and the radiance of his Merry's face. His eyes chose to lay their attention upon Merry instead of the golden orb in the sky. Pippin gave a soft moan that was more like a mewl, and sighed out Merry's name in gratitude. Merry sat down on his haunches, gathered Pippin up into his arms, and wordlessly bid the hobbit to stand. Pippin stood shakily, and allowed himself to be walked to a nearby fallen log and sat down beside Merry. Pippin's whole body exploded in tingly warmth as Merry, his Merry, squeezed Pippin with his welcoming arms.
Merry folded Pippin to him, placing soft kisses on Pippin's wet eyelids and kissed his wrists which had red, chaffed marks around them. Pippin whimpered softly at the touch and Merry looked up at him, remorse written on his face and reaching for the bundle he had brought, he took a small vial from it.
Pippin shook his head, and made a move to scramble from Merry's arms but his cousin held him close and uncorked the bottle, Pippin trembled all over as Merry poured the contents of the vile over his hands and rubbed it into Pippin's abused wrists. Pippin's skin felt like it was burning and moaned loudly; Merry hushed him with a kiss.
"Hush Pip, it's to make you better" he whispered smoothing down Pippin's hair.
Pippin stopped struggling and lay lifelessly in Merry's arms as he worked the cream into Pippin's wrists. When Merry was finished he kissed Pippin again and took out the small dry blanket and wrapped Pippin in its comforting folds. Merry lifted Pippin up in a blanketed bundle and strolled through the dew-kissed grass. Merry felt Pippin's head loll down to him for support and comfort, and Merry smiled tenderly. Merry carried Pippin back to the house while Pippin looked at him, a small smile playing on his features. He had survived his punishment, he had shown Merry he was an adult and he had won Merry's love back.
As they passed through the threshold, Merry wondered again if he had been too hard on the boy, leaving him out in the elements all night. A sudden wave of tenderness washed over Merry, a desire to make all the hurts he had inflicted vanish through his love and care. Merry noted with dismay that Pippin's breaths had grown thick and uneven, as if he were trying to breathe through a thick, wet rag. Pippin had caught a chill and needed to be warmed. A bath, tea, and hot nourishing porridge, that was just what Pippin needed! Merry did not wish to consider the emotional hurt his punishment had wrought upon Pippin. It was Pippin who reminded him.
"Merry," whispered Pippin in a small voice. "Do I exist? Is this real?"
"Oh course love," soothed Merry as he set Pippin gently on the bed. "You exist now because I have reclaimed you. You are a bit damaged and you'll need to let your Merry stitch you back together again. You'll let me do that, won't you love?"
Pippin nodded and then burst into such a profound fit of sobbing that Merry forgot about everything but the need to soothe, rock, and shush his Pippin. Pippin quieted, but had begun to shudder uncontrollably. Merry decided the wet clothes had to go. Merry kissed Pippin's forehead before beginning to gently strip Pippin of his clothes. Pippin had some difficulty with his shirt since his arms where stiff for being stretched behind him for so long. Merry seemed to know this because he took Pippin's right arm and rubbed it up and down quickly. Slowly the ache in his muscles began to decrease and Pippin was able to help Merry undress him further. When Pippin was completely naked, Merry buttressed Pippin's back with a too-high stack of pillows, covered him with the bed sheets, and tucked the blankets tightly around him. His damp clothes Merry hung on chairs by the fire to dry. Merry was not sure, but thought he might have detected the scent of urine on the trousers, but pushed the possibility form his mind. His Pippin would be just fine.
Merry kissed Pippin softly again, wondering to himself what he had to do to chase that miserable forlorn look from his cousin's eyes.
"Stay there, love," cooed Merry. "I've got just the thing to warm you up!"
Merry left for a while and Pippin fell into a light sleep which he woke from quickly when he felt Merry's lips touch his again.
"Wake up, Pippin. I've brought you piping hot peppermint tea with far too much honey, just as you like it, and some porridge drowning in syrup. Pippin smiled sleepily, as if caught in a wondrous dream. The scent of peppermint wafted around the bed, the steam rising up and clearing his senses. Pippin made to free his hands from the covers to take the delicious tea, but Merry would not have it. He patted Pippin's hands back down to their sheltered position.
"Let Merry take care of you!" said Merry tenderly.
Merry lifted the cup to Pippin's lips and supported the back of his head with his palm.
"There, there, drink, lad. Let it warm you from the inside out."
And Pippin drank, throwing Merry a look of adoration between each sip. The same routine was repeated as Merry hand-fed Pippin the porridge, something he had not done since before Pippin had passed his second winter.
When Merry was satisfied that Pippin had eaten as much as he could, Merry lifted Pippin up again and carried him to the bathtub that was now filled with hot steaming water, and he slowly lowered Pippin into it. Pippin hissed as the warm water enfolded him, but Merry hushed him again, assuring him that he needed to be warmed after his long night outside. Merry began to rub his back and Pippin looked up at him, a small smile on his lips.
"Will you.will you join me?" Pippin asked softly.
Merry beamed at Pippin, feeling forgiven somehow, and unsure why it was important, yet knowing it was. Merry quickly shed his clothes, and slipped into the bath with his Pippin. Pippin wound his arms about Merry's neck and kissed him passionately, all hot and wet, and Merry returned his kiss with eagerness. And for that brief moment, Merry was not sure who controlled whom.
* * * Frodo awoke with a hangover, or something so much like one that the difference didn't really matter. The soothing quality of the tea had worn off, leaving only the sickly residue of dizziness and nausea that so often accompanied mornings after having spent far too much time at the inn with Sam and several tankards the night before.
His back felt tight and hot, as if it had been assaulted by dozens of angry bees of unnatural size. And his hands-Frodo wondered to himself if he would ever be given free reign of his arms again. He detested being bound and detested even more the feeling of helplessness that accompanied it.
The feeling of confusion and grogginess had not yet loosed its hold on his brain and he tried to force his sluggish mind to focus on his present state and the manner in which he had come to it. The events of the night before made a slow march behind his eyes but his mind could not accept the fact that he had actually lived them - that these things had actually happened to him. It seemed a distant dream in which he was an observer rather than an active participant, as though all the events of the night before had happened to someone else entirely.
He forced his head to move on the pillow and gazed blearily at the bonds attaching his wrists to the bed. Concentrating all of his effort, he attempted to bring the knot on his left wrist into focus, but it was useless. No amount of blinking or staring would clear the blur from his vision and he wondered distractedly if the tea Merry had administered caused blindness.
Still, he wondered if he were able to get his teeth on the knot, perhaps he could manage to untie it before Merry returned and inflicted further abuse on him. He stared at the knot stupidly, trying to concentrate all of his effort into raising himself on his knees and leaning toward the head of the bed. He managed to plant his knees into the mattress and was just attempting to shift his weight to his elbows when a wave of dizziness struck him and blackness clouded his vision.
Scarcely had the motes cleared from behind Frodo's eyelids, when Merry burst in the room, shadowed by Pippin. Merry held a steaming bowl of sweet- smelling porridge topped with berries as Pippin clanked behind with a teakettle and several cups that banged together as he walked.
"Good Morrow, Frodo!" chirped Merry, setting his burden down on the bed stand with a ceremonious flourish. "Breakfast in bed for my dear cousin!"
Frodo stared at them both, more confused than annoyed. Was he not their prisoner?
"Time to get you up, lazybones!" sang Merry. Frodo felt the coolness of metal grazing across his wrists. Merry had cut his bonds.
"Up you go!" Merry gently rolled Frodo first upon his side, then up into a sitting position. Great care was taken so as not to irritate his abused back though Frodo dully noted the sharp, stinging sensation that began to pulse at the wounds where the delicate, newly formed scabs stretched and pulled at the movement. "Time to get you dressed!"
Frodo was too groggy to protest. His hands had been freed, and this was one gift he dared not question.
Frodo allowed Merry to dress him though his mind yammered in weak protest at his own seeming helplessness and gnawed at the haze of his consciousness. Merry pulled Frodo off the bed and set him gingerly upon a waiting stool. Frodo dug his fingernails into the stool in the losing battle to keep upright without swaying. Merry noticed Frodo's struggling and, smiling, steadied Frodo's shoulders before lacing his limp arms through a crisp, white shirt.
"Your back may sully this garment a little," said Merry as he fastened the carved wooden buttons, "But I had this shirt made especially for you, and I wanted to see it on you."
Frodo's eyes caught sight of his initials sewn into the collar with emerald green thread. This garment had been crafted with great care.
Merry helped Frodo stand on his shaky legs, easing first one foot, then the other into the trousers. The trousers were of fine blue linen with a perfect crease down the sides. They were obviously new and, from the fit, had been made with Frodo's measurements in mind.
"I hope you like these trousers, Frodo," purred Merry. "I thought the blue would bring out your eyes. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed some of your clothes from Bag End to get these fitted."
Frodo did not speak, instead letting his chin drop down to his chest where his eyes could focus on the Ring and locket dangling down his collar and swinging against his chest on their chain. Frodo finally glanced up as Merry pulled the embroidered braces over his shoulders, giving them a playful snap as he let go.
"Perfect!" exclaimed Merry. "A lovely new set of clothes to celebrate your homecoming!"
Frodo winced. Merry did not notice, or pretended not to as he lifted the teakettle jauntily and poured two steaming cups of tea.
"You'll want for nothing here, Frodo. You'll see!"
"I want my freedom," snapped Frodo, amazed at his own unexpected mental clarity.
"You will have freedom," replied Merry. "Freedom from worry, freedom from labor, freedom from a tremendous burden that you should never have had to bear alone!"
"I was not bearing it alone," grumbled Frodo. "I had Sam with me." Frodo paused a moment before continuing on with the obvious. "And speaking of whom---"
"Sam is fine," answered Merry. "He's being tended to."
"Which is my greatest fear." Frodo's situation had caused him to wax facetious.
The sound of jagged rheumy snores turned Frodo's attentions away from Merry. Pippin had conked out in a chair near the bed, his head lolling back at an unfriendly angle, his hands quivering, even in slumber. For the first time, Frodo noticed how truly awful Pippin looked-two shades paler than normal, eyes sunken down and festooned with large bags, hair disheveled, and despite his clean clothes, smelling slightly of urine.
Frodo threw Merry an accusatory glance.
"Pippin did not sleep well," explained Merry.
"He looks like death warmed over, and I'll warrant you had something to do with it," said Frodo with neither malice nor warmth.
"Well, let's eat then," said Merry, ignoring the comment. Merry stepped around the bed to rouse Pippin. The sleeping hobbit awoke, embarrassed, eyes filled with sleep and guilt. Merry whispered something into his young cousin's ear and the guilty look Pippin flashed him made Frodo instantly uneasy as Merry came back around toward him. Pippin approached the pair with a noticeable limp. Merry stood behind Frodo and with no warning, pulled Frodo's arms gently but firmly behind him and tied them. The binds were of soft cloth and did not cut into Frodo's wrists, yet binds they were, and Frodo detested them.
"I thought I was to eat!" cried Frodo.
Merry ruffled Frodo's curls affectionately. "You are going to eat," said Merry. "And I'm going to feed you."
Anger filled Frodo's battered body with an unknown strength. Frodo leapt up and stood on his own two feet, steady and unafraid.
"Meriadoc!" yelled Frodo with a mien of authority he had not used on Merry since he'd been knee-high. "Enough with the binds! How long do you intend to hold us here against our will? You cannot keep me bound forever! Do you hope for me to change my mind? I tell you, Merry, I shall not! I shall never. I've no need to lie to you anymore. I'm older than you, and-if you'll have the truth, a fair share wiser as well. I shall not be bullied. I shall not be reduced. What you have done is reprehensible. You may have destroyed so much more than my back-SO much more, Merry. Thank you for the new clothes, but they are a pale substitute for my freedom and self- respect. Now unbind me, Cousin!"
Merry sat impassively through Frodo's diatribe, waiting quietly for Frodo to stop. Frodo glared at Merry, standing his ground like a rooted thing, watching in exasperation as Merry calmly sipped a steaming cup of tea. The rage in Frodo's eyes only increased as Merry's flat expression transformed into a malicious smirk.
"Are you done fuming, Frodo dear," asked Merry blithely. "Is your tantrum spent?"
Frodo raised his eyebrows in exasperation, utterly flummoxed. "I am NOT a child!" Frodo protested in a voice so loud it echoed and spun around the small room to land painfully in Pippin's ears. Pippin visibly shuddered at the memories of his own voice uttering those words. "Untie my hands and allow me a semblance of dignity, will you!"
"Just relax, Frodo," soothed Merry. "There is great dignity in giving yourself over to another's care. Let me take care of you." Merry lifted the spoon to Frodo's mouth. It did smell lovely.
"I shall not eat as a babe!" cried Frodo. "I shall not!"
"Then," said Merry as he picked up the bowl. "You shall not eat at all."
"Meriadoc!" Frodo raged. "Untie me!" Frodo swung round so that his bound hands faced his captor, his hands clinched in fists, and his knuckles white and protruding. As if his very action would compel Merry to do his bidding.
Merry set his teacup down with a small click as porcelain tapped porcelain. Merry stood, wearing a smile laced with sarcasm-a smile that Frodo could not see. Placing a sturdy hand on Frodo's shoulders and heedless of the crimson stains blotting the crisp, white linen, he spun his cousin to face him. Frodo's face contorted with rage.
"Sit. Down," ordered Merry, forcing Frodo back into his chair with a mighty push sending new shocks of pain through his back as it hit the unyielding wood. Merry then turned to pick up the bowl of porridge as if nothing had happened and held a heaping spoonful to Frodo's mouth.
"Open wide, Love," said Merry in an infuriatingly tender voice. "I know you're hungry."
All of Frodo's rage accumulated in a single motion. He leapt back up to his feet, drew back a large furry foot, and kicked the bowl out of Merry's hand-sending it flying across the room and crashing loudly on the opposite wall before shattering in an explosion of porcelain and porridge. Frodo was breathing hard and uneven. Feral aggression filled his eyes like those of a hound who will not be crossed.
"I shall not be coddled!" he raged. "I've half a mind to send you to the same fate as the porridge bowl! Now, Merry-Untie me! Damn you, cousin, untie me!"
Merry remained frighteningly calm, wiping the splatters of porridge from his fingers before making a move.
"That," Merry began in a calm but icy tone, "will be your last meal for a long while."
"I didn't say that I didn't want the food!" cried Frodo defiantly, "I said I didn't want you to feed me. But while we are on the topic of things I don't want-I do not want to be here, I do not want to be separated from Sam, I do not want to be detained any longer, I do not want to be hit, I do not want you to be my keeper! You've no right to hold us here against our will!"
"I've every right," hissed Merry. "You are not in your right mind Frodo, and you've just proven it by lashing out at me without cause. And until you come around, you will be my most precious and beloved captive. Eventually you shall stay of your own free will as my guest. But you are simply not ready yet, as your actions clearly show."
"And I suppose my back bears the marks of your hospitality, Merry?" growled Frodo venomously. "It is YOU who are not of sound mind, Merry, YOU!"
Frodo emphasized this point by kicking Merry's chair, toppling it over with a loud clatter. He'd not been this primed for a fight since his first stormy confrontation with Lotho Sackville-Baggins in his early tweens. Frodo had been bested then, but not by much, and Lotho limped home with a bloodied nose as the price for his victory. Frodo had shown then that looks could be deceiving, and that true strength had lain dormant in that willowy, bookish exterior. Frodo was indeed a Baggins, and a Brandybuck, and a little Took to boot. He'd go down fighting, and perhaps if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't go down at all.
Merry glanced down at the fallen chair, grinning eerily as he righted it with a commanding thud. Merry met Frodo's fiery stare with one of his own, like two rams positioning for a fight. To Frodo's surprise, Merry did not strike him. Instead he smiled wanly like a mother who refused to chastise a toddler who is well past a nap.
"I believe, Frodo, that you won't be untied for good while either."
Only a thin strip of cloth stood between Merry's jaw and the punch Frodo's fist longed to deliver. He was beyond courtesy, beyond bestowing his cousin with the respect Merry so blatantly withheld from him.
As Frodo contemplated his next foray into vituperative fury, he realized with dismay that his bladder was filled to the point of pain. It was an ache stronger than hunger, stronger than even anger. Frodo willed himself to form a non-incendiary request.
"Merry," said Frodo, suddenly composed. "I need to relieve myself. No food, no freedom-I think you owe me at least this one courtesy."
Merry burst out in a short but loud peal of laughter as he grasped Frodo's forearm. "Finally an impulse that even your stubbornness won't override. Yes, come. It will be my pleasure."
Merry led Frodo to the door, Pippin following silently and spectorlike behind. Merry stopped at the front door to tie a length of rope around Frodo's neck explaining that should Frodo pull or struggle, the knot would slip and the noose tighten with obvious consequences. It was humiliating, but wholly expected. Frodo's insides were so close to bursting, he did not even protest with a sigh.
The three hobbits marched up to the outhouse, then came to a halt before its door. Frodo cast Merry a sidelong glance. "Well?" he huffed.
"Well, what?" asked Merry.
"Come now, Merry," said Frodo in irritation and no little discomfort. "I can't do it with my hands behind my back, and I hope this is at least one matter you have no desire to 'help' me with."
"That is where you are wrong," said Merry. "I do. I want you to get to trust me, to lean on me. And you cannot hold out forever, so I suggest you let me assist you."
Frodo threw Merry a disbelieving glance. Frodo was disgusted and dismayed. Would he be allowed no self-determination?
"Let me tend you, Frodo," said Merry. "There's nothing you can do with your own hands that I can't do for you."
"You cannot be serious, Meriadoc!" cried Frodo. "Let me retain some frail semblance of dignity! I shan't run! I cannot with this misbegotten noose around my neck. Just for a minute. Please." Frodo was very nearly begging. Merry was unmoved.
"Do you have to go or not?" asked Merry in a more threatening tone. "I am here to help. Trust me with this. Trust me with everything. I'll take care of you. You may let me assist you, or we can march back to your room where your only option will be to soil your bed. It is your choice while I have a mind to still offer it."
Frodo growled, but seeing no other choice he relented. He'd not been so humiliated in all of his life. He wasn't sure which was more demeaning, Merry's help itself, or the joy he seemed to take in bestowing it. Frodo felt both impotent and infantile, which, he assumed, was exactly the result that Merry had hoped for. He'd lowered Frodo several notches without raising a hand. On the walk back to the house, Frodo trudged like a prisoner, not like the self-assured hobbit he had been just minutes before. He lowered his head, shamefaced.
"That wasn't so bad, was it Frodo?" chirped Merry as he set the leash down to open the door.
Frodo's anger resurged, and without thinking, Frodo's foot flew up and kicked Merry to the ground. Merry sprang up, leash in hand, and with a quick, oxygen-depriving tug, had his captive under control again.
"Pippin!" ordered Merry. "Pippin-we'll need another length of rope here. Frodo's just lost his walking privileges."
Frodo glared at Merry as Merry took the rope from Pippin, still holding Frodo's leash taut.
"Sit down on the ground, Frodo," ordered Merry in a gentle but commanding tone. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be. I do not like to deprive you of air."
Frodo sneered but complied. As Merry wrapped the cord around his ankles, Frodo noted Merry humming a hobbit drinking song obscenely out-of place in the current situation. Merry stood himself up, looking over Frodo as if he were a disobedient puppy.
"Are there any other privileges you wish to lose for yourself, Frodo?" asked Merry darkly. "Because in case you haven't guessed it, it is I and not you who is in complete control here."
"What else can you take away from me, Merry? What's left that you can strip me of without killing me?" asked Frodo bitterly. "What else?"
Merry smiled wickedly as he motioned for Pippin to help him carry Frodo back to his room.
"More than you can guess, Frodo," said Merry. "More than you can even dare to imagine."
TBC
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Story Recs!
I have finished moving, and have had some time to cruise ffnet for some hidden jewels!
First, I must suggest my regulars, just in case you have not seen them!
First Iorhael's Nasty Hobbitsess-which was my inspiration, is a must-read for those who love Frodo angst and are secretly in love with Evil! Merry. I am her beta, and I can say the story never ceased to surprise me!
And-here is a treat-iorhael has just begun to post a brand new fic called "taken" in which Sauron is able to capture part of Frodo's "essence" when he puts the ring on at the prancing Pony. It is one of the most unusual plotlines you will read, and I know you will like it! Great for Frodo angst.
And my beta, Aratlithiel, has some simply fantastic stories-she is not new to writing -but new to posting-and her tales will just knock you on your ***. Her newest fic is called "Wings of Eagles" which has a huge wingspan of uber-angst (har, har!) and is a follow-up to the amazing "At Sammath Naur." Read everything she posts-as you will not be disappointed!
MBradford's newest tale (on the Banks of the Brandywine) deals with a painful event in frodo's past in which he is captured by big folk and-well, you just have to read! She stole my beta, but I guess I don't begrudge her because good beta's are hard to come by-esp one as good as mine! You must read all her fics! Oh-and I will take credit for asking her to make the kidnapping a long, drawn out ordeal for angst purposes! ;)
The failure, By Krista, deals with a Frodo that actually is captured by Saraman. See what happens in this mystery of an AU
Realized by Calla is an interesting take on a Frodo in love with Pip and Merry gets in the way until the unimaginable happens! GO check it out! She had just updated.
"Slowly Breaking" by Julia addressed Frodo in cirith ungol, with a twist. If you like this fic, I'm sure you will enjoys hers-and if she gets reviews, I bet she will update soon!!
Salysha has a great fic that I stumbled upon late one night that has not gotten the reviews it deserves! It is called "one by One they will fall" and is an AU describing how the ring slowly claims the members of the fellowship. Please check it out.
Natta has just finished the Prey, and I have a picture posted for this one on the Merry/pip Lovers site under Emma's misc pics. I'm sure she would love to here from you.
Trust NO One has posted her first fan fic which is really worth checking out. It deals with Frodo at the cracks of doom-but not like you've seen it before. Wonderful Frodo-sam angst. Please review this and all fics you like!!
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To the reviewers!
Sue-thank you for writing to me personally! It means a lot! And I just got your email asking when I would update! LOL! The answer is NOW!
Chloe Amethyst- Why thank you for the in-depth reviews! Really make doing this writing worth it to know people like it. And goddess of hobbit angst- oooh! Do I get superpowers to go with that title?? (Blushes) well-thank you so much!
Trust No One-I did get your mail, and really-thank you so much for taking the time to write. I hope you will continue to read and talk to us!
Iorhael - Pippin is very naïve-but he has a good heart. Merry really does deserve something! Hmnmmmm!
TC the Hobbit-thank you so much! Great to see another new face. (
QTPie - Frodo will remain strong for a while yet. I hope you liked him in this chapter!
Camellia Gamgee-Took - Well-frodo got in a few good licks here-I hope that counted!
Krista - you are wrong! And how was Frodo fight scene? There will be more to come!
Calla -LOL! I loved your repeat sentence joke! And there are parts I just don't write well, and I know authors that do-so I asked them, and they said okay. I have done illustrations for both of those authors too!
Endymion -well that was the ring talking-the real Merry pops up in the chapter, but the ring will not let this hobbit be! Thanks for the quote pics!
Maikafuiniel - thank you for reviewing! I love new faces! And Sam is going to have a very difficult time, as he is a hobbit of action, and cannot bear to be passive and see his master suffer. Pip got some comfort here-yes?
Aratlithiel-My Beta!!!! Boy-I just am itching to have everyone read your chapters soon!!!!
Julia-okay-I will mention your story-look for it in my story recs!! And I'm so glad you like the tale and I hope you keep coming back to talk to us!
MBradford - I found Frodo! And he's in this chapter! Oh-I have got to go and read your story-and yes-I'll suggest it too! Thank you for always reviewing!
Zorra-I'm not glad I made you cry-but, I guess that means I'm doing my job as a writer! So glad you reviewed!