Chapter 7 – What Did He Do to You?

Spikes of fire.  Those were what Sam was projecting to Merry through his eyes.  Yet apart from them, unimaginable anguish was also shot out of Sam's gentle, brown eyes a moment after his master finished telling them all about what Merry had done to him, under Elrond's spell.  But by and by Merry was undone by both of them – the flames of Sam's confounding fury and the younger hobbit's silent, sorrowful questions of him. 

No, no

Merry slowly backed down, head shaking wordlessly.  No one was pushing him to the wall, only Sam's stares, but they were enough to pin Merry down against it.  But a moment later, it was not only Sam's.  Heads were turning.  Eyes were blazing.  All of them were riveting on Merry.  Exasperation.  Accusation.  Disbelief.  All was cast upon him.

Merry started to grope at the wall behind him, desperately hoping it would give him some kind of support, something to hold on to.  But it was too smooth, and with uncontrollable shudders, knees turning to water unable to bear his body any longer, Merry slowly slid down to the floor.

These people – these people were all angry at him, Merry thought fearfully, raising both his arms to protect him from…  from what?  Blows?  Merry did not know it these men and elves were capable of hurting someone smaller like him.  But from the look of it, the hobbit was grimly certain they were.

His face was safely covered now and his body curled up into a fetal position.  Only small, hitching breaths showed that Merry was still there.  Labored breaths that gradually turned into sobs – equally labored sobs.  Merry was trembling hard.  He was afraid, deadly afraid.  Everyone in this room was infuriated at him, but that was not exactly he was afraid of.  He had heard horrible, horrible things coming out of Frodo's mouth and Merry perfectly understood why people were mad at him.

But again, it was not the one he was afraid of.

He did not remember ever inflicting such things to Frodo.  His own flesh and blood.  His beloved cousin.

He did not understand why he did those things.   What made him do them?

Merry curled up even tighter, swallowing his sobs for fear that they would soon turn into hysteria.

Merry never thought it was he that was capable of hurting someone – Frodo, of all people.

And that was what he was afraid of.

*   *   *

Elrond glanced down at the form lying in the bed, covered with a thick blanket.  All he could see was the pale face, eyes peacefully closed.  But the elven lord knew Frodo was not sleeping from the intakes of breaths that alternated, sometimes deep and calm, and at other times frazzled and uneasy.  The lips did not stay closed.  One could always catch murmurs coming out of them, no matter how soft they were.  Elrond shook his head slowly.  Frodo must be totally relaxed.  Otherwise he would quickly rise from this half-conscious state before Elrond was done with him, and getting him back into this state would be far more complicated.

The elf clamped his hand upon Frodo's brow and with a determined voice called out the hobbit's name, loud and clear, so he did not have to repeat it.  Frodo was still at once, getting ready to whatever Elrond would say to him.  Eyes still shut.

"Frodo," Elrond spoke, gentler this time.  "I want you to completely relax.  Let loose all the knots in your mind.  You are safe now and you know that.  There is nothing to fear."

Elrond could feel doubts still linger in Frodo's mind.  A bit more effort to win the broken soul but these were just several steps from hundreds or thousands Elrond and the others had to take to bring Frodo whole again.  They had just come to the part in which they would find out the real evil that had converted the gentle hobbit into a pitiful, childlike wretch.

Elrond brought in his charm into his voice one more time.

"I want you to trust me.  I want you to tell me everything, be it dear for you to remember or buried deeply for fear to recall it.  Nobody is going to hurt you for whatever you will say."

Silence.  Elrond let his words sink into every heart in the room, Frodo's especially.  He noticed how the hobbit got visibly calmer this time, chest rising and falling regularly.

Then Elrond pushed tenderly.

"Do you understand, Frodo?"

He had not even begun with the real questioning but eyes had started to get teary as a soft voice replied.

"Yes."

*   *   *

That was the first word Frodo had uttered – the first word that connected him to the real world.  The first word that was comprehensible for all and that was not just blabbers about Merry and Frodo's wish to go to him.

Sam saw Frodo with pure giddiness.  He recalled the event when Merry grabbed his cousin and slammed him to a tree down in the wild not far from Brandywine River.  Sam had hardly believed his eyes.  It was bad enough, even for him.  Then, what had happened to Frodo, what had Frodo experienced in Merry's hands, that could turn him to such a pitiful state?  Sam did not – could not begin to imagine.  Had he not remembered who he was or what he had promised Gandalf, Sam would have taken as far a flight as he possibly could to save himself from the evidence of abomination he was about to hear.  But as soon as that the thought hit him, Sam broke into new waves of despair and regret.

'I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo!  Sorry to ever think of leaving you.  I'm so awful!  Look at what happened to you!  I'm sorry to ever leave your side at all!"

And Sam wept, clinging helplessly at the last hope he had for Lord Elrond to save his master.

*   *   *

Frodo had never felt so peaceful in his life.  (And his conscience mocked him.  Life?  That long?)  So, perhaps not that long.  Perhaps only after the passing of his parents.  Frodo had indeed gone through a number of sweet memories during his stay in Brandy Hall and Bag End.  But this – this was a bliss.  His head, body, and limbs, all were rested, through and through, on a soft, elven mattress that Frodo had only come to realize it.  His eyes were shut but he was not sleeping.  Just restful, relieved of all the tension, the feeling he had especially after that baleful day when Merry took him just to show him who his real friend was.

Merry!

Frodo's spellbound mind jarred a little as the name was echoing inside it.  Fog clouded over when guilt came and spread out slowly.  He was not supposed to think badly of Merry, Frodo scorned himself.  Merry was his friend.  He could not forget that.  He might find peace now and be indulged by it, but this would not last.  Frodo would soon awake and once again find himself alone in this world.  Alone – save for Merry.

Frodo did not show his restlessness to those present in the room, but apparently one did notice it.  And the hobbit then felt a hand close on his forehead, followed by a command, urging him to relax.  Frodo doubted it at first, but the voice was much stronger.  It convinced him there was nothing to fear and no one would harm him.  He was safe here.

Frodo did get more relaxed over hearing those words.  A smile even formed in his mind.  He knew no one would hurt him.  Who could possibly do that?  He had Merry by his side.  Though now he wondered – where was that cousin of his?  Frodo could not spot him anywhere, not with these eyes closed.

He was just about to unshut them when the voice suddenly flickered again.

"Do you understand, Frodo?"

Not wanting to disappoint the voice owner, the hobbit replied gently,

"Yes."

*   *   *

Elrond drew in a long, deep breath as Frodo's heartbreaking reply left a trace in everybody's heart.  The elf was so relieved he still could reach him.  That was the most important thing.

Elrond then moved gracefully  and sat on the bed beside Frodo.  The bed dipped gently as the elf weighed it down.  He studied the hobbit's fine features, and his eyes went to the soft, fragile arms folded upon Frodo's covered torso.  Elrond had met some halflings before but none of them was this pale and lean.  Though he already learned from Bilbo that Frodo, by nature was not particularly fond of food, Elrond's heart went out to the young hobbit – no more than a baby for him – and it pained him to learn what had come to pass.

Under the scrutiny of the many pairs of eyes, Elrond cupped one hand upon a velvety cheek.

"How are you, my dear boy?"

From the depth of soothing darkness, Frodo recognized the voice again and he answered, softly yet convincingly, "I'm all right," for he was feeling all right.

"That's a relief," replied Elrond.  Then he added, "Mae govannen, mellon nin."  Elrond HAD figured out from Bilbo, too, that Frodo was quite eloquent in Elvish tongue.  And the words he had just spoken were relatively easy.  There was no way Frodo would fail to respond to them.

That was why it stunned Elrond that Frodo did not answer directly.  Instead, the hobbit shrank back from his touch and his brow knotted a little.  Whatever the cause was, Elrond knew he had made a mistake by saying those words.  He immediately tried to make amends.

"You need not answer that, Frodo.  In fact, you need not answer anything if it troubles you."  Elrond took a great risk saying that, knowing that most of his questions would probably trouble Frodo.

"Friend," muttered Frodo suddenly, and Elrond almost jumped in surprise and joy.

"Yes!  Friend – mellon.  Mellon nin – my friend.  I greeted you as a friend, Frodo, since you are an elf friend."  But to his dismay, Frodo panicked even more.

"No, no!"  Frodo hissed.  "You are not my friend.  I have only one friend.  He is…  He is…"

"Who is he, Frodo?"  coaxed Elrond gently.  Frodo might get more upset but he had started to open himself.  Elrond did not want to lose his only chances.  "Take a deep breath, little one.  Remember, you are safe here and no one will harm you."  His words gave the expected result, Frodo beginning to show composure again.

"All right now, Frodo," started Elrond once the halfling had breathed normally again and stopped flinching at his touch.  "Do you mind telling me who your friend is?  The only friend of yours?"  Elrond glanced briefly at Gandalf, who frowned and cast his own to Merry.  The condemned hobbit stared back, wide-eyed, hardly realizing what was happening and what he was about to hear.

So the name danced out of Frodo's pliant lips.  He pronounced it clearly – and lovingly.  The 'r' sound in that name curled lazily around Frodo's tongue, an utter evidence for whoever listening to him how Frodo treasured the name and its owner.

"M – e – r – r – y."

In addition to that, a stunning smile unfolded itself across the face and made it glow in beauteous happiness.  Sam gasped.  He recognized this.  His Mr. Frodo would look this way every time he thought he found pure joy in his life, and that was not too often.  Sam remembered seeing Frodo like this when he successfully captured the precious moments of a blooming rose in the garden.  Then another when Sam caught him dozing off under a tree after a great reading.

But seeing Frodo with the same expression when thinking of the one who had tortured him was just absurd.  And insane.

Elrond cast a knowing glance to Sam.  He turned to Frodo again.

"But why do you only have one friend?  Don't you remember your loyal gardener, Sam, or Gandalf the wizard, or Bilbo, your beloved uncle?"

The smile disappeared upon hearing the questions.  But Frodo remained calm.

"Because Merry said so," said Frodo slowly, as if explaining to a child, and confidently.  Elrond's concern was evident.

"And you accepted it just like that, Frodo?  He might not have told you the truth; you know you have others to turn to."

Frowns started to appear on the hobbit's brow again.  His mind worked hard to discern what he had just heard and the first reaction it had – deny the words directly.

But somehow he could not.  Deep down he knew he had been wrong so far.  This contradiction in his mind slowly tore Frodo apart and he did not know what to do or say.  He began to thrash again in his place, his knuckles blanching for holding the blanket too tightly.  What was that again?  You accepted it just like that?  Frodo gasped for air.  It wasn't just like that!  He was…  Merry was…

The breaths grew heavier.  But – what could he say?  Or, could he say anything at all?

A pair of strong hands clamped at his shoulders and Frodo was forced to stop his twisting around.

"Frodo!  Do you remember my words?  I promise no one will hurt you no matter what you say.  You need not fear anything!"  Elrond held the shaking body with his deepest pity.  He could not fail now.  Frodo must let out everything for his own good, or he would never return.

"Listen to me!  And answer my questions.  What made you give in to whatever Merry said to you?  What did he do to you?"

TBC

Shire Baggins: Merry will writhe and beg for forgiveness indeed!  How do you like this chapter?  ^_^

Trust No One: I bow to your wish, My Lady.  And Merry will get worse than this!

FrodoBaggins87: Y – y – y – yes!  The loyal cousin will emerge soon… to pay for the damage he caused.

BrandyBuccaneer: Merry might suffer first before going out of this, I swear!  Thanks for reviewing, dear!

endymion2: I hope you were not asleep because the story was boring.  Haha.  No,  no.  I understand.  I do want to be able to finish it quickly but things keep coming in the way.

AN: I'm so glad precious people have friended me!  But I still want more.  Please go to my info page and find the live journal address there!  Oh, many thanks to aelfgifu for beta-ing this piece again.  *blow kisses*