Yet again, I would like to thank my reviewers!!! :D I love you guys!!! I
love you so much I'm giving you all hobbit plushies when you review this
chapter! I'll give out two each, and you get to choose who they are! You
even get to choose a nice little quote of theirs that I can put on here
with your pen-name and the hobbits' name that you chose. :D :D :D :D :D You
can tell I'm in a good mood, LOL. Sorry it took me so long to get on here.
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I Would Never Betray You,
Please Remember Me
Pippin kept running. Sweat was slowly trickling down his shirtless back. He had long since thrown off his shirt because of all the heat from the storm, and he had been running for hours, so it seemed a smart thing to do. When, the sun reached its peak in the sky Pippin decided it could take a rest now. Not only because he'd surely lost the slave-sellers because of how long he ran, because of how exhausted he now was. He stopped running and rubbed his sore, throbbing legs. His body was going to make him regret running so hard for so long, but he didn't care, as long as he was safe. After rubbing his legs, Pippin fell down to the ground, asleep before his head even collided with it. Unfortunately for him, he didn't get to sleep very long before he was rudely awakened.
"You there! Young sir! Wake up!" hollered an elderly human whilst kicking Pippin in his side and legs, which hurt REALLY badly.
"Huh? What?" asked Pippin, not fully awake, and still sort of dazed from his sleep.
"What's your name?" said the man looking over Pippin carefully. The man noticed a bracelet on Pippin's hand, but said nothing else at the moment.
"My name? It's Pip- er I mean- uh..."
"What's your name, boy, spit it out!"
"Oh, sorry. My name is Yer."
"That's a strange name. Can I see your wrist?" Pippin looked up at him bewildered. What was so great about his wrist? "Come on, lad, let me see your wrist, or I'll kick you again," warned the man.
"Yes, sir," said Pippin.
The man took Pippin's left hand in his. Pippin looked up in wonder. 'What on Middle-earth does he want to see my wrist for?' Pippin studied his wrist, as did the man. Pippin quickly cursed under his breath.
"So you are the one my sons were looking for! You have the slave bracelet they give out," started the old man, who got down on his knees and started clawing and punching Pippin who cried out in pain. The man continued, "Oh, so you don't like this, eh, slave? Well, you betterest believe that it gon' a geta lot worse, you! Just you wait, Yer, until I give you to my sons. They gon' a give you a good thrashing, and you deserve it!!! You got th' nerve to run-away. Why..." the man went on babbling and hurting Pippin.
Pippin tried to fight back, he really did. He was doing everything he could, but he quickly found out, that did nothing but get you hurt worse. He was trying to just ignore the sharp pains all over him, and the blood spilling from various cuts. Finally, Pippin took all his strength and got up, and tackled the aged man, shouting his battle-cry. Then, after a few blows with him on top of the tackle viciously fighting the man, he had almost won. He wasn't sure if it was too easy, or if he had just received the extra 'umph' one could get when in a bad situation, hurt badly, and mad as Mordor to get back at the one causing the pain and suffering.
"You, little rascal! You just wait, you..." the man went on cursing at Pippin, but it did not help his situation any. Then Pippin felt something hit the back of his head. Hard. He fell down, and was blacked out.
*****
It was the next afternoon, and Frodo had finally awakened.
"Mr. Frodo! How are you, sir?" asked Sam bursting with mirth and pride as his master was now awake. Frodo said nothing back. He just lay there staring at Sam as if he were a stranger, with his chest slowly rising and falling with each breath, as he lay in the wilderness.
"How much longer will he last, Strider? He seems so lost..." Merry inquired. He was so very worried about Frodo, but at the same time he couldn't keep thoughts of his younger Took cousin, out there somewhere. Out there being worked to the bone, not fed, being beat, hating him... Merry shuddered. 'And his last words to me were, "I would never betray you, please remember me." Out of all the despicable things he could've and should've said to me, he just wanted us to remember him,' he thought. He felt a larger lump in his throat, and just tried to push the thought back.
"If we hurry we can get him to Rivendell in time."
"Will he be alright?" Merry's eyes were shining with tears for his two cousins. Strider paused before answering.
"I don't know. I don't know anything until we get to Rivendell. Hopefully, he'll be okay though."
Thus, time slowly passed.
*****
Slowly Pippin began to awaken a few days later. He didn't know when it was or where he was. All of a sudden he feels pain flaring all over him. He had been kicked...again.
"Why, hello there, Yer," Chakamir mocked. "You've decided to wake up and join us. You didn't really think you could escape us did you?"
Pippin looked down in shame. He had been caught, and brought here. Again. Things seemed to keep repeating themselves. He wished he could have a repeat of "That Night", as he called it, so he could change what he did and said.
"Where are we, sirs?" inquired Pippin, who desired to know something about what was going on.
"Where are we, or where is we going?" asked Tenole, an eyebrow raised.
"Where are we going," said Pippin.
He was generally surprised they had given him a choice about ANYTHING. He was even more surprised that he hadn't been killed and wasn't dead. 'The way they talked... Maybe that's mostly all they do is talk... You saw what they did... So? Maybe that's all they're going to do to you,' Pippin thought. He was pretty good at figuring out when people were just talking and when they meant it. Pippin had sure been in trouble enough to know.
"Well, some place you know," started Tenole.
"You're going to the Shire!" bursted Chakamir with a smile.
Pippin's eyes opened in shock. 'They're taking me to the Shire??! They must be joking. Why in all of Middle-earth would they take me to my home, practically to my front door? Is this some kind of joke? Is this what Merry and Frodo were actually doing to me?' he knew the answer to that question before he even finished. 'You betrayed them, Yer; they wanted you to be a slave, for real. They wanted you to suffer because they hate you. They hate you. They hate you. They hate you, and your big, fat mouth is to blame, and that cursed ale, and that cursed, cursed, cursed Sudo Grubb. They didn't plan for this. What is happening to me?' Pippin was stumped and just sat there in silence.
*****
"It's October 24, 10:00 in the morning if you would like to know."
Frodo had now awakened hungry and wondering in Rivendell and Gandalf was speaking to him. As soon as Frodo got the information of where Gandalf had been, and that it was Glorfindel's horse that helped bear him to safety (Frodo couldn't remember) he thought he would go to sleep. Although, Gandalf had a question for him first.
"Frodo, my lad?"
"Yes?"
"I've seen Meriadoc here, but where is Pippin? Don't they always travel together, or did you actually convince Pippin to stay home while you went on a journey?"
Frodo could feel the guilt building up in him and the tears stinging his eyes. He did not want to answer this, he was weak, tired, hungry, and just not up to it.
"Frodo, my lad? What's wrong? Nothing happened to Pippin, right?" Gandalf looked really worried. Even he didn't want something to happen to that mischievous Took, of whom he had become attached to. Frodo gulped.
"Well, something *did* happen to him, but as far as I know he's not dead," Frodo answered, tears starting to spill down his face. The guilt had been killing him, and already that dream he had of Pip in the wilderness was haunting him.
"Frodo, what happened?" Gandalf looked genuinely concerned about the matter, and in fact was.
"He- he- we... I just wanna go to sleep, Gandalf. I'm very glad to see you, I am, but can I speak to you of this later?" Frodo's tears that had streamed down his face had ceased as he pleaded, and turned over to try to sleep himself away from his cares and worries.
"Alright. Tell me when you're ready, Frodo. Sleep well," Gandalf said and stood and turned to leave.
Frodo almost laughed. "Sleep well," Gandalf had said. 'I was never a good sleeper. Now that I'm pretty much healthy with this cursed ring, and my own cousin in slavery because of me there's not a way in Middle-earth, Mordor to the Bay of Belfalas, could I sleep well,' he thought bitterly. Although, he still fell asleep after a few minutes, but was tormented by dreams of Pippin being beat to death, the ring, and when he had to tell Gandalf what was going on.
*****
About a week later, Pippin woke up feeling more paranoid than usual. He looked in the direction of where he thought he was being watched, as to be killed, and his eyes opened wide in horror. There was Chakamir. Not only was it Chakamir, it was Chakamir with a dagger.
"Why, good morning," Chakamir sneered evilly. "Did you sleep well, Yer?" Pippin gulped. This was NOT good.
"F-f-f-fine, s-sir. Wh- what are you doing?" Pippin asked terrified and lying.
"Oh, nothing too bad," he had an expression of sheer evil. "I'm just going to carve our mark into your right arm," he finished casually.
Pippin's eyes were about to pop out in fright. 'Oh my gods. He won't, he can't, he shouldn't-' Pippin let out a cry of pain.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!..." Pippin yelped.
The dagger was being guided through his arm. Pippin started howling and bawling. It felt like the man kept it in his arm for about 5 million millenniums, but in truth was only in for about 45 seconds, which is pretty much an eternity with something like that in you arm. As he was screaming his severe pain to the world he bit down on Tenole's leg. If it hadn't been for that, he probably would've bit his tongue off. He was being cursed at and threatened by Tenole, but he just bit down harder. Pippin tasted his blood and skin. He hoped that he caused Tenole an injury that would always leave an ugly scar on his skin.
Pippin looked at his arm as soon as the dagger came out. There was a puddle of blood surrounding his arm. Normally this would have made him cry harder, but it just made him stare and wonder if he was going to lose enough blood to die. 'How much does it take anyway?' went through his mind, occasionally when the hurting wound allowed him to think at all. The humans, though harshly, cleaned his wound. They didn't want Pippin getting too much of an infection before he got to his master(s), and they didn't want him to bleed to death.
After about an hour Pippin's cries calmed to hiccups. He looked at the mark on his arm. It reminded him of a brand that cattle get. Written in the common tongue, in cursive, was this: T&C-S. Chakamir was the first to speak.
"You know, Yer, you sure did cry harder 'an a baby. Believe me, ye did, becausea I done this to babies before, I'ave. You have too, 'aven't you Tennie?"
"Yep, sure have. Yer cries harder than a three month old, he does," the men chuckled, and went on mocking Pippin. He saw the inscription, but since his brain was crowded by waves of his hurting limb, he couldn't make out what it meant.
"Sirs?" Pippin gulped and hiccupped out.
"Yeah, whatcha want, Yer?" the mimicked his voice to themselves then broke out in silent laughter.
"Sirs, I wanted to know, what the letters mean." Pippin said timidly.
"Boy, he is dumb, isn't he, Tennie?" It was now obvious by the way Chakamir walked and how he was now slurring his words, he was drunk. Not good, at all, Pippin figured. Tenole pretty much ignored what Chakamir said.
"Yer, it's quite simple. Even them stupider than mud, rangers can understand it. T stands for Tenole. C stands for Chakamir. S stands for slave. Do you get it now?" Tenole answered almost politely, though he spoke as if Pippin was a three year old. "Also, Chakamir, don't EVER call me Tennie again," Tenole glared at his partner.
"Yes, sir, I understand, sir." Pippin said, not even paying attention that the word "sir" was actually in use from his vocabulary. His mother would have been thrilled. 'My mother...' then went on to a line of thought Pippin just tried to forget. He rode quietly in the wagon for a few more days, waiting to see if he'd ever get to set eyes on his beloved Shire again.
*********
Okay, I like this chapter a bit better. Pippin got branded! Awww, poor Pippin. I think he might need someone to comfort him some way or another. Poor, poor Pippin. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner, okay peoples? The next chapter will start with Frodo at the Council of Elrond.
Disclaimer: Don't own the places or characters (you RULE Tolkien), and I don't make any money from this. *sigh* Though, how I wish I did...
.
I Would Never Betray You,
Please Remember Me
Pippin kept running. Sweat was slowly trickling down his shirtless back. He had long since thrown off his shirt because of all the heat from the storm, and he had been running for hours, so it seemed a smart thing to do. When, the sun reached its peak in the sky Pippin decided it could take a rest now. Not only because he'd surely lost the slave-sellers because of how long he ran, because of how exhausted he now was. He stopped running and rubbed his sore, throbbing legs. His body was going to make him regret running so hard for so long, but he didn't care, as long as he was safe. After rubbing his legs, Pippin fell down to the ground, asleep before his head even collided with it. Unfortunately for him, he didn't get to sleep very long before he was rudely awakened.
"You there! Young sir! Wake up!" hollered an elderly human whilst kicking Pippin in his side and legs, which hurt REALLY badly.
"Huh? What?" asked Pippin, not fully awake, and still sort of dazed from his sleep.
"What's your name?" said the man looking over Pippin carefully. The man noticed a bracelet on Pippin's hand, but said nothing else at the moment.
"My name? It's Pip- er I mean- uh..."
"What's your name, boy, spit it out!"
"Oh, sorry. My name is Yer."
"That's a strange name. Can I see your wrist?" Pippin looked up at him bewildered. What was so great about his wrist? "Come on, lad, let me see your wrist, or I'll kick you again," warned the man.
"Yes, sir," said Pippin.
The man took Pippin's left hand in his. Pippin looked up in wonder. 'What on Middle-earth does he want to see my wrist for?' Pippin studied his wrist, as did the man. Pippin quickly cursed under his breath.
"So you are the one my sons were looking for! You have the slave bracelet they give out," started the old man, who got down on his knees and started clawing and punching Pippin who cried out in pain. The man continued, "Oh, so you don't like this, eh, slave? Well, you betterest believe that it gon' a geta lot worse, you! Just you wait, Yer, until I give you to my sons. They gon' a give you a good thrashing, and you deserve it!!! You got th' nerve to run-away. Why..." the man went on babbling and hurting Pippin.
Pippin tried to fight back, he really did. He was doing everything he could, but he quickly found out, that did nothing but get you hurt worse. He was trying to just ignore the sharp pains all over him, and the blood spilling from various cuts. Finally, Pippin took all his strength and got up, and tackled the aged man, shouting his battle-cry. Then, after a few blows with him on top of the tackle viciously fighting the man, he had almost won. He wasn't sure if it was too easy, or if he had just received the extra 'umph' one could get when in a bad situation, hurt badly, and mad as Mordor to get back at the one causing the pain and suffering.
"You, little rascal! You just wait, you..." the man went on cursing at Pippin, but it did not help his situation any. Then Pippin felt something hit the back of his head. Hard. He fell down, and was blacked out.
*****
It was the next afternoon, and Frodo had finally awakened.
"Mr. Frodo! How are you, sir?" asked Sam bursting with mirth and pride as his master was now awake. Frodo said nothing back. He just lay there staring at Sam as if he were a stranger, with his chest slowly rising and falling with each breath, as he lay in the wilderness.
"How much longer will he last, Strider? He seems so lost..." Merry inquired. He was so very worried about Frodo, but at the same time he couldn't keep thoughts of his younger Took cousin, out there somewhere. Out there being worked to the bone, not fed, being beat, hating him... Merry shuddered. 'And his last words to me were, "I would never betray you, please remember me." Out of all the despicable things he could've and should've said to me, he just wanted us to remember him,' he thought. He felt a larger lump in his throat, and just tried to push the thought back.
"If we hurry we can get him to Rivendell in time."
"Will he be alright?" Merry's eyes were shining with tears for his two cousins. Strider paused before answering.
"I don't know. I don't know anything until we get to Rivendell. Hopefully, he'll be okay though."
Thus, time slowly passed.
*****
Slowly Pippin began to awaken a few days later. He didn't know when it was or where he was. All of a sudden he feels pain flaring all over him. He had been kicked...again.
"Why, hello there, Yer," Chakamir mocked. "You've decided to wake up and join us. You didn't really think you could escape us did you?"
Pippin looked down in shame. He had been caught, and brought here. Again. Things seemed to keep repeating themselves. He wished he could have a repeat of "That Night", as he called it, so he could change what he did and said.
"Where are we, sirs?" inquired Pippin, who desired to know something about what was going on.
"Where are we, or where is we going?" asked Tenole, an eyebrow raised.
"Where are we going," said Pippin.
He was generally surprised they had given him a choice about ANYTHING. He was even more surprised that he hadn't been killed and wasn't dead. 'The way they talked... Maybe that's mostly all they do is talk... You saw what they did... So? Maybe that's all they're going to do to you,' Pippin thought. He was pretty good at figuring out when people were just talking and when they meant it. Pippin had sure been in trouble enough to know.
"Well, some place you know," started Tenole.
"You're going to the Shire!" bursted Chakamir with a smile.
Pippin's eyes opened in shock. 'They're taking me to the Shire??! They must be joking. Why in all of Middle-earth would they take me to my home, practically to my front door? Is this some kind of joke? Is this what Merry and Frodo were actually doing to me?' he knew the answer to that question before he even finished. 'You betrayed them, Yer; they wanted you to be a slave, for real. They wanted you to suffer because they hate you. They hate you. They hate you. They hate you, and your big, fat mouth is to blame, and that cursed ale, and that cursed, cursed, cursed Sudo Grubb. They didn't plan for this. What is happening to me?' Pippin was stumped and just sat there in silence.
*****
"It's October 24, 10:00 in the morning if you would like to know."
Frodo had now awakened hungry and wondering in Rivendell and Gandalf was speaking to him. As soon as Frodo got the information of where Gandalf had been, and that it was Glorfindel's horse that helped bear him to safety (Frodo couldn't remember) he thought he would go to sleep. Although, Gandalf had a question for him first.
"Frodo, my lad?"
"Yes?"
"I've seen Meriadoc here, but where is Pippin? Don't they always travel together, or did you actually convince Pippin to stay home while you went on a journey?"
Frodo could feel the guilt building up in him and the tears stinging his eyes. He did not want to answer this, he was weak, tired, hungry, and just not up to it.
"Frodo, my lad? What's wrong? Nothing happened to Pippin, right?" Gandalf looked really worried. Even he didn't want something to happen to that mischievous Took, of whom he had become attached to. Frodo gulped.
"Well, something *did* happen to him, but as far as I know he's not dead," Frodo answered, tears starting to spill down his face. The guilt had been killing him, and already that dream he had of Pip in the wilderness was haunting him.
"Frodo, what happened?" Gandalf looked genuinely concerned about the matter, and in fact was.
"He- he- we... I just wanna go to sleep, Gandalf. I'm very glad to see you, I am, but can I speak to you of this later?" Frodo's tears that had streamed down his face had ceased as he pleaded, and turned over to try to sleep himself away from his cares and worries.
"Alright. Tell me when you're ready, Frodo. Sleep well," Gandalf said and stood and turned to leave.
Frodo almost laughed. "Sleep well," Gandalf had said. 'I was never a good sleeper. Now that I'm pretty much healthy with this cursed ring, and my own cousin in slavery because of me there's not a way in Middle-earth, Mordor to the Bay of Belfalas, could I sleep well,' he thought bitterly. Although, he still fell asleep after a few minutes, but was tormented by dreams of Pippin being beat to death, the ring, and when he had to tell Gandalf what was going on.
*****
About a week later, Pippin woke up feeling more paranoid than usual. He looked in the direction of where he thought he was being watched, as to be killed, and his eyes opened wide in horror. There was Chakamir. Not only was it Chakamir, it was Chakamir with a dagger.
"Why, good morning," Chakamir sneered evilly. "Did you sleep well, Yer?" Pippin gulped. This was NOT good.
"F-f-f-fine, s-sir. Wh- what are you doing?" Pippin asked terrified and lying.
"Oh, nothing too bad," he had an expression of sheer evil. "I'm just going to carve our mark into your right arm," he finished casually.
Pippin's eyes were about to pop out in fright. 'Oh my gods. He won't, he can't, he shouldn't-' Pippin let out a cry of pain.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!..." Pippin yelped.
The dagger was being guided through his arm. Pippin started howling and bawling. It felt like the man kept it in his arm for about 5 million millenniums, but in truth was only in for about 45 seconds, which is pretty much an eternity with something like that in you arm. As he was screaming his severe pain to the world he bit down on Tenole's leg. If it hadn't been for that, he probably would've bit his tongue off. He was being cursed at and threatened by Tenole, but he just bit down harder. Pippin tasted his blood and skin. He hoped that he caused Tenole an injury that would always leave an ugly scar on his skin.
Pippin looked at his arm as soon as the dagger came out. There was a puddle of blood surrounding his arm. Normally this would have made him cry harder, but it just made him stare and wonder if he was going to lose enough blood to die. 'How much does it take anyway?' went through his mind, occasionally when the hurting wound allowed him to think at all. The humans, though harshly, cleaned his wound. They didn't want Pippin getting too much of an infection before he got to his master(s), and they didn't want him to bleed to death.
After about an hour Pippin's cries calmed to hiccups. He looked at the mark on his arm. It reminded him of a brand that cattle get. Written in the common tongue, in cursive, was this: T&C-S. Chakamir was the first to speak.
"You know, Yer, you sure did cry harder 'an a baby. Believe me, ye did, becausea I done this to babies before, I'ave. You have too, 'aven't you Tennie?"
"Yep, sure have. Yer cries harder than a three month old, he does," the men chuckled, and went on mocking Pippin. He saw the inscription, but since his brain was crowded by waves of his hurting limb, he couldn't make out what it meant.
"Sirs?" Pippin gulped and hiccupped out.
"Yeah, whatcha want, Yer?" the mimicked his voice to themselves then broke out in silent laughter.
"Sirs, I wanted to know, what the letters mean." Pippin said timidly.
"Boy, he is dumb, isn't he, Tennie?" It was now obvious by the way Chakamir walked and how he was now slurring his words, he was drunk. Not good, at all, Pippin figured. Tenole pretty much ignored what Chakamir said.
"Yer, it's quite simple. Even them stupider than mud, rangers can understand it. T stands for Tenole. C stands for Chakamir. S stands for slave. Do you get it now?" Tenole answered almost politely, though he spoke as if Pippin was a three year old. "Also, Chakamir, don't EVER call me Tennie again," Tenole glared at his partner.
"Yes, sir, I understand, sir." Pippin said, not even paying attention that the word "sir" was actually in use from his vocabulary. His mother would have been thrilled. 'My mother...' then went on to a line of thought Pippin just tried to forget. He rode quietly in the wagon for a few more days, waiting to see if he'd ever get to set eyes on his beloved Shire again.
*********
Okay, I like this chapter a bit better. Pippin got branded! Awww, poor Pippin. I think he might need someone to comfort him some way or another. Poor, poor Pippin. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner, okay peoples? The next chapter will start with Frodo at the Council of Elrond.
Disclaimer: Don't own the places or characters (you RULE Tolkien), and I don't make any money from this. *sigh* Though, how I wish I did...