Moria's Revenge chapter 14: Named
Authors: Kookaburra, Llinos
Disclaimer: I wish.
IF YOU TRY AND TREAT YOURSELF WITH REMEDIES FROM MY STORY, YOU ARE AN IDIOT.
***
Aragorn was feeling very weary, but there was still a vital treatment that had to be performed on Pippin for his physical well being. The ranger felt so drained that while Pippin was resting and being nursed by Icicle he took a brief sleep himself with instructions to Sam to wake him as soon as Pippin stirred again.
He slept in all for about three hours and Sam having noticed Pippin become restless again woke the ranger with a strong mug of tea and a dish of stew with herb dumplings. The food and rest revived Aragorn considerably and he returned to see how his little patient was faring.
Icicle was inclined to lick Pippin and whilst this might be comforting for him it was not especially good from the point of view of cleanliness, although most of Pip's body was now covered with bandages so she tended to lick his face and his feet, which were at least easy to wash.
Gimli and Merry came to take charge of Icicle again and the warg was becoming accustomed to going with the dwarf now. He was feeding her well and both he and the other hobbits treated her kindly, talking to her and playing with her. She was getting a share of herbs as well, namely anise, which Aragorn said would help increase her milk production. Also she knew they would take care of her pup now and let her go back to him when her milk was needed.
Aragorn decided to ask Frodo to help with the next treatment. Pippin seemed less threatened by the gentle mannered hobbit than the others and he did not tremble and look so terrified at Frodo's approach for some reason.
After draping a blanket over Pippin's lower half to give some semblance of privacy, Aragorn gently spread Pippin's legs and lifted his knees. Frodo was holding his cousin's head, trying to distract him from what was to follow.
****{flashback}
"Oh, I know how ter make 'em dance! Give it 'ere. Lugsta, stop puttin' tha' hotroot on yer grub an' give some 'ere!" The orc holding Pippin handed him to Lugsta. Pippin was hiccuping little sobs, his throat too tight with fear to make a louder sound. //no, not to him, don't touch me don't hurt me again// Pippin remembered all to well that Crugsyl had been the first to abuse him the night before. The orca that had Pippin gave a nasty smile, and put Pippin on the table, holding him down on his back. //nononodon'ttouchmeletmegodon'thurtmeMERRYPLEASEhelpmeanyone...// Pippin could just raise his head enough to look down the table at what Crugsyl was doing. Crugsyl had some sort of red paste on his fingers. At a nod from him, one of the orcs took Pippin's knees, spread them and lifted them up
****
. Umummmum was gone! Now the Master had come back and he was going to rape him again! No please, it hurts there too much. But he knew he must not fight, if the Master wanted to do that then he must endure it, that was all he was fit for, he knew that now.
With the dried blood washed off, it was now easier for Aragorn to make a visual assessment. The bruising on Pippin's backside was so extensive that there was more purple flesh than white. The lesions on his penis were greater in number, which spoke of spreading disease. //I'll have to ask Sam if he got any snake butter mushrooms.// Pippin's anus was still leaking blood, and the opening was severely abraded. //Thank the Valar the artery was not ruptured.//
Frodo could not see the damage from where he held Pippin's head, but he could see Aragorn's face. "Is he bad?" He whispered trying not to disturb Pippin too much.
//Of course I'm bad.// Pippin thought. Even Frodo knew that now, knew what he had done. Was the Master showing Frodo? Teaching him about how you treat bad hobbits like him - what you have to do to them?
Aragorn just nodded sadly, he did not want to verbalise the extent of the damage so that Pippin could hear, but he knew he would have to explain it to Frodo and the others if only to help them understand poor little Pippin's fears.
Now for the hard part. In order to reduce the risk of infection, Pippin would have to be cleaned out, and with his current mental state, Aragorn was afraid of damaging him further.
After cleaning his hands thoroughly with soapwort and lye, Aragorn prepared for the tactile examination. He spread some marigold oil on his fingers and gently placed them at the opening.
***{flashback, cont.}
Pippin whimpered again.
"Har! Yeh'll be makin' purtyer noises 'n that soon, little whore! Now, dance!" With this he pushed his fingers into Pippin's abused opening.
****
At Aragorn's touch, Pippin's whole body stiffened. A small whimper came from his lips. Aragorn placed a hand on one of Pippin's knees and rubbed it reassuringly. He pushed one finger in the tiniest bit. Pippin went limp, but his eyes widened in terror. Aragorn could already feel grit and foreign matter left from when the orcs abused him, and he was barely a quarter of a finger-length in. Deciding that further investigation would only damage the abused tissues more than it would help, Aragorn withdrew, and wiped his hand on a rag, considering his next course of action. The marigold oil would help with those odd burns, and the scrapes. He would also make a compress of calendula and comfrey, as that would be a great comfort to the used area.
He rose, and returned Pippin's legs to their original position. He walked over to where Legolas was helping Sam prepare the medicines. The hobbit looked up as Aragorn approached.
"How bad is it, Mr. Strider?" Sam asked quietly.
"I will not lie to you, Sam. Pippin is not out of danger yet. If any great strain is placed on the area, it could rupture, and there would be nothing I could do to stop the bleeding."
Sam looked at the ground. He sniffled and wiped at his eye. "I-I'm sorry," he said, apologizing for his emotion, "it's just that the thought of the horrible things that happened to poor Mr. Pippin..." He voice broke. Legolas put a tender arm around the sobbing halfling and drew him close.
"Shh, Sam. It is good to let your sorrow out." As the elf comforted Sam, Aragorn readied the herbs.
Aragorn started the treatment by cleaning around the anal area, bathing the bruises with arnica and spotted alder bark tea. When he had the compress ready, Aragorn spread Pip's legs again and placed it between them, and then added a soft padding of gauze. Closing his legs and stretching them out, Aragorn drew forth some more bandages, and began to wrap them around Pippin's hips. He wrapped all the way to the middle of Pip's thighs, to keep his legs closed and the compress in place.
Pippin lay surprisingly still while this was being done to him. Aragorn would almost have felt better if the little one had at least cried out or protested in some way. It was as if he had grown so accustomed to being manhandled he no longer fought it.
Master was abusing him, touching him, hurting him, binding him tightly, and, as he thought he would, showing the others. //Must lie still! Must lie still!// Pippin's body screamed to fight and protest, but he knew that would be wrong. No matter how much it hurt he had to suffer this, it was what he deserved. Perhaps if he were good they would not beat him afterwards.
Once it was finished they lifted Pippin a little and fed him some more sweetweed tea from a spoon. Then Aragorn gave him a little amantilla again, feeding it to him from his finger. This time Pippin obediently sucked the paste off without a fight. Somehow this did not please the ranger, it seemed as if Pippin had not relaxed with them, but that his spirit was totally broken beyond repair.
Gimli came over with Icicle and Pippin struggled a little at the sight of the warg. But Aragorn was not going to give up his one bargaining strength without making at least a tiny step towards trying to heal Pippin's mind as well.
Gimli stroked the warg and persuaded her to lie down and wait. She put her head patiently between her paws and watched her pup carefully with her bright, intelligent eyes.
Aragorn lifted Pippin up a little more so that he could clearly see Icicle and the others. Pippin gave the ranger a nervous glance and whispered, "Umummmum, please Master?" cringing his head down as soon as the words left his lips.
But Aragorn wanted a little more this time.
"Look at me little one!" Aragorn put his finger under the slumped chin and lifted Pippin's face up to make his eyes meet his. "Just say your name for me. Come on try. Do you want to go to the umum again? You can if you say your name."
Pippin shuddered and dropped his head down until he caught Aragorn's finger in his mouth and began to suck on it.
"No, not that." Aragorn gently took his finger back and tentatively put an arm around the little one's shoulder, drawing him in closer. Aragorn's heart dropped as he felt the sudden panic of tension run through Pippin's frame at the physical contact. This time he persisted, holding the tiny body as gently as he could and drawing the hobbit into his arms. "Come on tell me your name, it's not difficult, you can do it."
Pippin's mind raced in panic, what was he supposed to do? This was Master and he was holding him, touching him. If he didn't get it right he knew what would follow. He would be beaten and hurt and hurt until he couldn't scream anymore. What must he do?
"Just say your name for me." Aragorn stroked his face, running the back of his fingers down Pippin's cheek. "You remember, what's your name?"
Name? Master had given him a name. "Dogwhore," Pippin whispered, his eyes on Master's hand, waiting for the caress to turn into a blow, he cringed slightly in readiness. "It's Dogwhore".
The hand stopped stroking, but it did not pull back to clout him. Aragorn choked a gasp from his throat and felt a tight pain grip his heart. "No no! Pippin!" He clutched the tiny figure to his breast almost squeezing the breath out of him. He rocked him to and fro kissing the curly head as he whispered over and over. "You're Pippin, you're Pippin, you're our Pip. Never forget that, Pip! Now you say it. 'I'm Pippin!'."
Sam and Frodo looked at each other aghast. What degradation had been heaped on poor little Pippin, the baby and darling of their hearts. It couldn't be! Frodo wanted to rush forward and comfort Pippin, to hold him tight and never let anyone else touch him again. He felt the tears sting down his cheeks in frustration at his inability to make his little cousin better.
Sam felt anger surge through his whole being, he felt for the little sword that he wore at his side, feeling as if he should draw it now and stand guard over little Pippin for ever more, so that nothing or no one should so much as say a harsh word to him ever again.
Gimli felt his hand curl about his axe, he growled slightly under his breath making Icefang look up at him in surprise. The dwarf's indignant rage at the innocent little hobbit's words made him want to pound off now and rip open the doors of Moria and cleave every damned, filthy orc he could lay his axe to.
Legolas was across the clearing, watching over Merry while the perian was sleeping, snuggled up to Boromir who was also taking a deserved rest, but his sharp elf ears caught the words. //Oh, poor little Pippin,// his heart grieved at the thought of what the orcs must have put him through to make Pip believe such a thing, //the damage to his mind is more severe than I ever imagined.// Legolas looked down at Merry and Boromir, tears blurring his vision. He was grateful that those two were not around to hear Pippin's heartbreaking little voice calling himself that.
Pippin quivered in Aragorn's embrace. He did not understand why master had not hit him. He seemed upset with him though. It made him want to cry too. He had to say something? His name, it was, Dog... no, master had been cross at that. Pippin tried again. "p-p..." He broke off with a little sob.
"Come on try again." Aragorn lifted the little face up to look at him again. "Say Pip, for me, say after me, 'I'm Pip'."
"P-p-pip. I Pip." Pippin's eyes were still filled with fear as he looked up at Master. But he had liked the sound of this name, it was better than the other one. Master had promised him something if he did as he was told, he remembered. "umummmum?"
"All right, little Pippin." Aragorn reluctantly capitulated; it had been a minor victory, but so heart-rending, he could not demand more today. He carried Pippin over to the waiting warg and allowed him to snuggle up against her welcoming body.
**** Author's notes:
Llinos: A haiku
The best co-author
She helps me so much with this
I cannot repay
*bows* ***
Authors: Kookaburra, Llinos
Disclaimer: I wish.
IF YOU TRY AND TREAT YOURSELF WITH REMEDIES FROM MY STORY, YOU ARE AN IDIOT.
***
Aragorn was feeling very weary, but there was still a vital treatment that had to be performed on Pippin for his physical well being. The ranger felt so drained that while Pippin was resting and being nursed by Icicle he took a brief sleep himself with instructions to Sam to wake him as soon as Pippin stirred again.
He slept in all for about three hours and Sam having noticed Pippin become restless again woke the ranger with a strong mug of tea and a dish of stew with herb dumplings. The food and rest revived Aragorn considerably and he returned to see how his little patient was faring.
Icicle was inclined to lick Pippin and whilst this might be comforting for him it was not especially good from the point of view of cleanliness, although most of Pip's body was now covered with bandages so she tended to lick his face and his feet, which were at least easy to wash.
Gimli and Merry came to take charge of Icicle again and the warg was becoming accustomed to going with the dwarf now. He was feeding her well and both he and the other hobbits treated her kindly, talking to her and playing with her. She was getting a share of herbs as well, namely anise, which Aragorn said would help increase her milk production. Also she knew they would take care of her pup now and let her go back to him when her milk was needed.
Aragorn decided to ask Frodo to help with the next treatment. Pippin seemed less threatened by the gentle mannered hobbit than the others and he did not tremble and look so terrified at Frodo's approach for some reason.
After draping a blanket over Pippin's lower half to give some semblance of privacy, Aragorn gently spread Pippin's legs and lifted his knees. Frodo was holding his cousin's head, trying to distract him from what was to follow.
****{flashback}
"Oh, I know how ter make 'em dance! Give it 'ere. Lugsta, stop puttin' tha' hotroot on yer grub an' give some 'ere!" The orc holding Pippin handed him to Lugsta. Pippin was hiccuping little sobs, his throat too tight with fear to make a louder sound. //no, not to him, don't touch me don't hurt me again// Pippin remembered all to well that Crugsyl had been the first to abuse him the night before. The orca that had Pippin gave a nasty smile, and put Pippin on the table, holding him down on his back. //nononodon'ttouchmeletmegodon'thurtmeMERRYPLEASEhelpmeanyone...// Pippin could just raise his head enough to look down the table at what Crugsyl was doing. Crugsyl had some sort of red paste on his fingers. At a nod from him, one of the orcs took Pippin's knees, spread them and lifted them up
****
. Umummmum was gone! Now the Master had come back and he was going to rape him again! No please, it hurts there too much. But he knew he must not fight, if the Master wanted to do that then he must endure it, that was all he was fit for, he knew that now.
With the dried blood washed off, it was now easier for Aragorn to make a visual assessment. The bruising on Pippin's backside was so extensive that there was more purple flesh than white. The lesions on his penis were greater in number, which spoke of spreading disease. //I'll have to ask Sam if he got any snake butter mushrooms.// Pippin's anus was still leaking blood, and the opening was severely abraded. //Thank the Valar the artery was not ruptured.//
Frodo could not see the damage from where he held Pippin's head, but he could see Aragorn's face. "Is he bad?" He whispered trying not to disturb Pippin too much.
//Of course I'm bad.// Pippin thought. Even Frodo knew that now, knew what he had done. Was the Master showing Frodo? Teaching him about how you treat bad hobbits like him - what you have to do to them?
Aragorn just nodded sadly, he did not want to verbalise the extent of the damage so that Pippin could hear, but he knew he would have to explain it to Frodo and the others if only to help them understand poor little Pippin's fears.
Now for the hard part. In order to reduce the risk of infection, Pippin would have to be cleaned out, and with his current mental state, Aragorn was afraid of damaging him further.
After cleaning his hands thoroughly with soapwort and lye, Aragorn prepared for the tactile examination. He spread some marigold oil on his fingers and gently placed them at the opening.
***{flashback, cont.}
Pippin whimpered again.
"Har! Yeh'll be makin' purtyer noises 'n that soon, little whore! Now, dance!" With this he pushed his fingers into Pippin's abused opening.
****
At Aragorn's touch, Pippin's whole body stiffened. A small whimper came from his lips. Aragorn placed a hand on one of Pippin's knees and rubbed it reassuringly. He pushed one finger in the tiniest bit. Pippin went limp, but his eyes widened in terror. Aragorn could already feel grit and foreign matter left from when the orcs abused him, and he was barely a quarter of a finger-length in. Deciding that further investigation would only damage the abused tissues more than it would help, Aragorn withdrew, and wiped his hand on a rag, considering his next course of action. The marigold oil would help with those odd burns, and the scrapes. He would also make a compress of calendula and comfrey, as that would be a great comfort to the used area.
He rose, and returned Pippin's legs to their original position. He walked over to where Legolas was helping Sam prepare the medicines. The hobbit looked up as Aragorn approached.
"How bad is it, Mr. Strider?" Sam asked quietly.
"I will not lie to you, Sam. Pippin is not out of danger yet. If any great strain is placed on the area, it could rupture, and there would be nothing I could do to stop the bleeding."
Sam looked at the ground. He sniffled and wiped at his eye. "I-I'm sorry," he said, apologizing for his emotion, "it's just that the thought of the horrible things that happened to poor Mr. Pippin..." He voice broke. Legolas put a tender arm around the sobbing halfling and drew him close.
"Shh, Sam. It is good to let your sorrow out." As the elf comforted Sam, Aragorn readied the herbs.
Aragorn started the treatment by cleaning around the anal area, bathing the bruises with arnica and spotted alder bark tea. When he had the compress ready, Aragorn spread Pip's legs again and placed it between them, and then added a soft padding of gauze. Closing his legs and stretching them out, Aragorn drew forth some more bandages, and began to wrap them around Pippin's hips. He wrapped all the way to the middle of Pip's thighs, to keep his legs closed and the compress in place.
Pippin lay surprisingly still while this was being done to him. Aragorn would almost have felt better if the little one had at least cried out or protested in some way. It was as if he had grown so accustomed to being manhandled he no longer fought it.
Master was abusing him, touching him, hurting him, binding him tightly, and, as he thought he would, showing the others. //Must lie still! Must lie still!// Pippin's body screamed to fight and protest, but he knew that would be wrong. No matter how much it hurt he had to suffer this, it was what he deserved. Perhaps if he were good they would not beat him afterwards.
Once it was finished they lifted Pippin a little and fed him some more sweetweed tea from a spoon. Then Aragorn gave him a little amantilla again, feeding it to him from his finger. This time Pippin obediently sucked the paste off without a fight. Somehow this did not please the ranger, it seemed as if Pippin had not relaxed with them, but that his spirit was totally broken beyond repair.
Gimli came over with Icicle and Pippin struggled a little at the sight of the warg. But Aragorn was not going to give up his one bargaining strength without making at least a tiny step towards trying to heal Pippin's mind as well.
Gimli stroked the warg and persuaded her to lie down and wait. She put her head patiently between her paws and watched her pup carefully with her bright, intelligent eyes.
Aragorn lifted Pippin up a little more so that he could clearly see Icicle and the others. Pippin gave the ranger a nervous glance and whispered, "Umummmum, please Master?" cringing his head down as soon as the words left his lips.
But Aragorn wanted a little more this time.
"Look at me little one!" Aragorn put his finger under the slumped chin and lifted Pippin's face up to make his eyes meet his. "Just say your name for me. Come on try. Do you want to go to the umum again? You can if you say your name."
Pippin shuddered and dropped his head down until he caught Aragorn's finger in his mouth and began to suck on it.
"No, not that." Aragorn gently took his finger back and tentatively put an arm around the little one's shoulder, drawing him in closer. Aragorn's heart dropped as he felt the sudden panic of tension run through Pippin's frame at the physical contact. This time he persisted, holding the tiny body as gently as he could and drawing the hobbit into his arms. "Come on tell me your name, it's not difficult, you can do it."
Pippin's mind raced in panic, what was he supposed to do? This was Master and he was holding him, touching him. If he didn't get it right he knew what would follow. He would be beaten and hurt and hurt until he couldn't scream anymore. What must he do?
"Just say your name for me." Aragorn stroked his face, running the back of his fingers down Pippin's cheek. "You remember, what's your name?"
Name? Master had given him a name. "Dogwhore," Pippin whispered, his eyes on Master's hand, waiting for the caress to turn into a blow, he cringed slightly in readiness. "It's Dogwhore".
The hand stopped stroking, but it did not pull back to clout him. Aragorn choked a gasp from his throat and felt a tight pain grip his heart. "No no! Pippin!" He clutched the tiny figure to his breast almost squeezing the breath out of him. He rocked him to and fro kissing the curly head as he whispered over and over. "You're Pippin, you're Pippin, you're our Pip. Never forget that, Pip! Now you say it. 'I'm Pippin!'."
Sam and Frodo looked at each other aghast. What degradation had been heaped on poor little Pippin, the baby and darling of their hearts. It couldn't be! Frodo wanted to rush forward and comfort Pippin, to hold him tight and never let anyone else touch him again. He felt the tears sting down his cheeks in frustration at his inability to make his little cousin better.
Sam felt anger surge through his whole being, he felt for the little sword that he wore at his side, feeling as if he should draw it now and stand guard over little Pippin for ever more, so that nothing or no one should so much as say a harsh word to him ever again.
Gimli felt his hand curl about his axe, he growled slightly under his breath making Icefang look up at him in surprise. The dwarf's indignant rage at the innocent little hobbit's words made him want to pound off now and rip open the doors of Moria and cleave every damned, filthy orc he could lay his axe to.
Legolas was across the clearing, watching over Merry while the perian was sleeping, snuggled up to Boromir who was also taking a deserved rest, but his sharp elf ears caught the words. //Oh, poor little Pippin,// his heart grieved at the thought of what the orcs must have put him through to make Pip believe such a thing, //the damage to his mind is more severe than I ever imagined.// Legolas looked down at Merry and Boromir, tears blurring his vision. He was grateful that those two were not around to hear Pippin's heartbreaking little voice calling himself that.
Pippin quivered in Aragorn's embrace. He did not understand why master had not hit him. He seemed upset with him though. It made him want to cry too. He had to say something? His name, it was, Dog... no, master had been cross at that. Pippin tried again. "p-p..." He broke off with a little sob.
"Come on try again." Aragorn lifted the little face up to look at him again. "Say Pip, for me, say after me, 'I'm Pip'."
"P-p-pip. I Pip." Pippin's eyes were still filled with fear as he looked up at Master. But he had liked the sound of this name, it was better than the other one. Master had promised him something if he did as he was told, he remembered. "umummmum?"
"All right, little Pippin." Aragorn reluctantly capitulated; it had been a minor victory, but so heart-rending, he could not demand more today. He carried Pippin over to the waiting warg and allowed him to snuggle up against her welcoming body.
**** Author's notes:
Llinos: A haiku
The best co-author
She helps me so much with this
I cannot repay
*bows* ***