Chapter 6 - Unveiling of the Shadow

Frodo looked warily at the cup as it drew nearer to him.  He wanted to ward it off, an easy thing to as no one or nothing restrained him.  But Frodo knew he could not do that.  He was bound by his own promise.

So Frodo just let the lip of the chinaware touch his, let his own lips taste the sweetness of the brew, let the warmth of it sluice down his abraded throat.  Moistening the aching cask that had been too long left without water.

Frodo closed his eyes gently as the tea comforted him, not realizing that this was exactly what was expected of him.  To feel soothed.  To loosen all the knots in his muscles.  To get distraught no more.

But not to sleep.

*   *   *

Merry witnessed the entire process of Frodo relaxing under the drug's influence, not with any ease.  He squirmed against the fast grip of the two elves at his sides.

They had come answering Pippin's cry for help before the air surging through his throat was cut off by Merry's merciless hands.  And before Merry even realized their presence, the elves had taken hold each of his arms and grabbed him away from Pippin.

Then without uttering any words the fine creatures brought Merry away from the room, down the hall, towards the forepart of the house.

"Where are you taking me?"  screamed Merry, bucking and arching uselessly.  Never had he faced waxy faces like the elves'.  And they were so strong despite their leanness.  In a short moment they had successfully dragged Merry to the room where Frodo was being treated.  And where practically everyone was there, the elven lord, Bilbo, Strider, and Sam.

And Sam.

Merry's being carried there was certainly under Elrond's command for he did not look surprised at all.  But this was definitely out of the others' knowledge.  Sam turned to the door where the commotion coming from and his eyes almost spilled out of their holes catching sight of the corrupted hobbit.  He nearly jumped at Frodo's cousin but was quickly seized by Aragorn.  Sam did not have the chance to splutter his fury toward Merry because of the man's warning look to him.  Aragorn looked sternly at Sam and then altered his eyes to Frodo, who was starting to go limp under Elrond's spell.

Sam sighed.  He could be enraged now but he could never endanger Frodo's life no more than he already had.  His master was still in a condition beyond Sam's worst nightmare.  Frodo's still seeing Elrond as Merry was clearly not a good sign.  And if the elf failed this time, Frodo could sink further to insanity.

Unlike Sam, Bilbo was completely oblivious to what happened around him but Frodo.  His eyes were fixed on the young cousin of his and nothing could tear them away from him.  It was as if the old Bilbo were afraid things would turn amiss again should he ever turn from Frodo.

Merry's eyes also steadied to the same direction.  But where they were exactly was not on Frodo.

On the Ring.

*   *   *

Despite being still awake and aware of his surroundings, Frodo could only hear Elrond.  All other sounds of voice were a mere background noise which would easily be thwarted if need be.  Frodo heeded nothing of the coming of Merry nor did he attempt to turn his head to his former tormentor, his friend.  As soon as the substance in his tea came into effect, Frodo let his lids droop and his perturbed soul quiet.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, Frodo Baggins," came the soothing voice of Elrond the wise.  "You need just to relax."

What else can I do?  The resistant part of Frodo suddenly emerged and felt the urge to fight.  It even laughed bitterly.  I am sedated.  What do they expect me to do?  Struggle still?

But the tired Frodo had long given up.  The clouds were still in his head somehow.

Let Merry do anything he wants.  I wonder why the Ring is returned to me.  Isn't that what he desires?

The gentle voice broke Frodo's reverie.

"Now take a deep breath."

Frodo felt his breath come in and out more evenly as if it were controlled by something out of his will.

"Keep your eyes closed and begin to feel yourself relaxing."

Subconsciously Frodo felt his mind trying to suppress the mocking chuckle from the unbroken part of him.  I have been relaxed for hours!

Elrond continued, or it was Merry in Frodo's twisted mind.

"Now become aware of your arms.  Now relax your arms."

This time, both Frodos were suddenly made aware of the presence of the said body parts.  And along with the "Let them grow more and more comfortable," they felt as if a heavy burden were lifted up of them.

"Let the muscles become loose and limp and even more relaxed."  Elrond's voice sounded like a soft breeze in Frodo's ears.  And after the elven lord repeated the instructions for the other areas of Frodo's body, the hobbit felt like floating in the air for the lightness of himself.  There was no more fear in his heart or pain in his build.  A voluntary breath was taken again, deeply and effortlessly.  There was no more confusion whether it had been Merry speaking, or someone else.  Whether Frodo was actually himself or a different him.  There was only peace.  And it was peace, too, that brought him into tears.

*   *   *

Merry felt the corner of his eyes twitch, soreness starting to spread from it to his entire eye ball and to his other one.  The surface of the eyes began to get wet from straining them so long.

At the Ring.

At the gleaming little thing which looked as if it moved a little, swirling gently against the rising and falling of Frodo's bare chest.

But unlike the time when Merry suddenly got enchanted and heard it speak, this time it was silent.  There was no more whispers in the air, or rather, in his head.  And apart from being held tightly by two immortal being s on both of his sides, Merry felt himself swaying as if about to kneel over and in his mind he was groping for something - anything - to hold on to.

The Ring.

The Ring had finally forsaken him, making his head whirl and float with emptiness. And Merry suddenly felt he wanted to be sick.  He wanted to lift his hands to reach for his head, to steady it.  But of course, he failed.

Sweat drenched all over his face, body, his arms and hands.  Merry fisted and unfisted them, feeling the slippery surface of them.  His breath gradually became ragged and constricted tightly at the throat.  Merry felt sick this time and despite the tightening in his throat, he strongly felt the urge to retch.

But the elves were oblivious to all those strange things happening to their captive.  They did not even heed Merry's more desperate attempt to free himself.  They simply clutched him.  And when Merry looked up at them, tears staining his ashen face, the immortals kept their eyes straight to their highness as well as the chief healer in the community, Lord Elrond.  Seeming like to be hypnotized too, the elves totally ignored Merry's plea to let him out of the room to spill out all of his stomach's contents.

"Please, dear sirs," begged Merry, almost inaudibly, without success.  Merry could not even hear his own voice.  Spooky silence was still here in his head, over him, overwhelming him.  Making him even dizzier, and finally, he could not hold himself back.  Bile pushed up unforgivingly and on the marble floor Merry released himself from the agony, heaving over and over.  Leaving everyone present aghast and eventually giving the hobbit their attention.  No one spoke just yet, just gasping at the pitiful sight.

But even that small thing was welcomed by the tormented hobbit with sheer gratitude.  Merry raised his bowed head and his eyes came to life as he realized something - he could hear them!  He might have made a big mistake by soiling the pristine chamber with his vomit, but by doing that, Merry felt as if great shadows had been lifted from him.  His mind cleared and his heart saw what his eyes saw and told him to do what real Merry was supposed to do, definitely not things the corrupted one would.

Merry looked around to the faces - some looked angry, some confused - with his mouth still slightly parted and sticky liquid dripped from his lower lip.  Shadows had been uplifted but a new fear slowly crept into his heart.  From the people around him, Merry sensed something dreadful had taken place, with him as the main reason.

His eyes fell on the enflamed ones of Sam's.  Merry shuddered conspicuously, not knowing what had made Frodo's gardener so mad at him.

"Sam," he called with his thin, shrill voice, turning to Frodo's limp frame in the bed.  "What has happened to my cousin?"

TBC

AN: Oftentimes I was tempted to give up this story.  But as I am curious about the end of this myself and all the attentions all the readers have been giving, I decide to go on.  I do wish some push and encouragement to continue.  One of which that I have always got is from the great Emma, my beloved beta.

dj: I'm so glad to hear from a new reader.  And knowing that you read NH, too.  Wow.  Thanks a lot!

FrodoBaggins87: I sure wish to be able to update sooner.  But some things just came in the way.

CleopatraVII: Very nice to hear from you again, my old friend.  This made me feel safe.  *sniff*