"Don't," gasped Merry as two pairs of delicate yet strong hands seized him, determined to drag the hobbit out of Frodo's chamber. Merry planted his heels into the floor and weighed his body backwards, but the guards would not budge. They simply gave more pressure on Merry's upper arms, twisting them slightly but painfully enough to make the Brandybuck whimper.
Merry wearily eyed Frodo, lying in the bed with Pip snuggling behind him, unaware of what was happening around him. A surge of envy pricked from a deep corner in Merry's heart. How dare Pippin do such a thing! And how dare Frodo accept the treatment so openly. Merry knew he was not supposed supposed to feel these things, was not supposed to give in to evil thoughts – still he could not help it. Only when he was out of the room did his inner clouds seemed to shy away and Merry able to regain his sanity. He whimpered again at the guards' treatment of him and at his own compliance.
The expressionless elven guards took Merry to an open-air leeway and seated him in a beautifully carved armchair with a tall back. The hobbit looked out of place for the chair was far too large for him. Merry sank in it and his feet were dangling. He tried to look dignified by attempting to reach the floor but he ended up slouching down.
Blushing, Merry pulled himself up and sat straight and tried not to pay attention to his swaying legs that made him look like a lad.
Merry was too preoccupied with himself that he did not heed several figures sitting before him in similarly large chairs, placing him in such a way that made Merry look like a convict awaiting his trial. It also escaped Merry when Lord Elrond shook his head as the guards moved with long ropes in their hands, ready to secure Merry in his chair. Merry was still a prisoner. They had to take precautions. The hobbit could try to escape. But, eyeing Bilbo, Elrond shook his head again. He knew better. In the end he simply raised his hand, dismissing the guards who then bowed and retreated.
Having finally settled in his seat, Merry huffed deeply and stole glances, eyes downcast. He grew panicked as he spotted Elrond sitting with Aragorn and Bilbo on both of his sides. Merry could not clearly recall what things he had said and done toward the three, apart from what he heard from Pippin's confession. Judging from their grim expressions, his words and treatment must have been something that left a bad taste in their mouths. The hobbit's thoughts were correct. Elrond tried hard not to think of things that had happened in the barn, while Aragorn sourly wished he could lay his hands upon Merry's face again. Only Bilbo had been lucky enough to never meet Merry in his darkened state. Even then, from what he heard so far, Bilbo felt quietly enraged.
Elrond cleared his throat.
"Your desire is bigger than yourself, Master Meriadoc. And the Ring knows it."
Merry's face reddened. He was dying to protest. Desire? What desire? But Merry knew better and shut his mouth.
"The Ring can sense your desire to be something more than you are and It helps you achieve it."
I desire only to stay by Frodo's side wherever he goes. To ensure he is safe, cared for, and loved. Frodo has suffered enough ever since he lost his parents. And now that Bilbo left him to stay in Rivendell, he practically doesn't have anyone to look after him. Frodo is utterly alone.
Merry sighed deeply and bent his head dejectedly. A tear slipped down his cheek. How could everything turn to such a mess?
"You couldn't have known how treacherous the Ring is. It will turn even the most noble ideal into an evil deed. At least now I know it was not your initial intention to claim the Ring."
Merry sobbed and shook his head, which snapped up as soon as the shaking vanished. Elrond knew what he was thinking! How? He had not uttered a single word.
"Do not fear me, little one," smiled the elf. "I can see what is in your mind and heart as long as it comes from you. The darkness has faded away, Master Meriadoc. That I know. Yet, I do not know if it will return to you again. Even the wisest cannot tell."
Elrond's words gushed over Merry like water being doused over a burning torch. Gratitude filled his heart. He was burdened with abundance of guilt and not one – not even Gandalf – had shown the smallest bit of understanding how he, too, suffered under the Ring's dominion. Its voice kept telling him, pushing him and forcing him to do things against his will, while his heart wept at the sight of Frodo tortured by his own cousin's hands. The Ring was deaf to any pleas Merry silently invoked, It even mocked them.
Merry noticed how Elrond nodded several times, offered comfort in his own way. Understanding – that was what Merry was thankful for. Acceptance that it he had not erred without help.
# # #
"Gandalf?" queried Sam. Worry was shadowing his face. He had let go of Frodo's hand after his master started to toss and turn. Behind Frodo, Pippin gawked at Sam with his terrified eyes. But Pippin did not let go. He even tightened his hold.
Gandalf rose from his chair and started toward the bed. Sam gave him more room to sit beside his master. The wizard sat down and sighed. He bent over to wipe off layers of perspiration from Frodo's brow. The hobbit did not seem to notice. His gaping eyes still stared unseeing. His parched lips stirred ever so slightly as if he was conversing with someone.
# # #
"You are right. They are all no lies – including the torments upon you and his dispossessing ME from your hand."
"You LET him take me from you. You LET him hurt you!"
Frodo's eyes were wide with terror. The little triumph and self-confidence he had experienced before were thinning fast.
"You did nothing to prevent him – the wicked little cousin of yours. You merely received what was done upon you."
And the Ring dropped Its deadly malice.
"He was not making it up when he told you that you were a freak. Because you rally are. What more – you are a worthless freak. A WEAK freak!"
Frodo yelped in anguish. This could not be happening! From what he heard from Pippin, it was the Ring that caused Merry's insanity. The Ring used him against Frodo. Now – now the Ring itself attacked him.
"What – what do you want from me?" Frodo quavered.
A mocking chuckle was heard.
"What else?" asked the Ring, frighteningly soft. "Your bravery, for sure. Your strength to fight against him. To take a revenge."
"Why would I want to do that?" A small voice from Frodo sounded repressed, uneven to the Ring's powerful demeanor.
"You are my master, that is why! You are supposed to be strong and not just submit to any other's will."
Frodo's voice was caught. He was nobody's master and nobody's slave.
"Nobody's slave?" mocked the Ring. "What do you call it, then, when you let your cousin beat you up? And when you let all those ruffians torment you to half death, starve you, put a spell on you!"
Frodo turned furious. He stood up against the malicious being.
"They were also being bewitched by you!"
The Ring's laughter grew louder.
"Frodo dear, that is just what I mean. They were strong because of me. You can also be the same!"
Frodo could not believe what he heard.
"You can make me strong so I can carry out my revenge?"
The Ring's silence answered his question. Frodo frowned.
"But I don't want to set revenge against my own cousin. I don't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anybody."
An eerie silence for a moment – and the Ring howled in rage.
"You – a wretched little creature! You are such a weakling!"
Frodo trembled, and he writhed bodily, tossing and turning as much as his body could against a tightened hold by Pippin. Then the hold was gone, replaced by a sense of being lifted up by a pair of strong, big hands.
"Frodo."
The hobbit stopped squirming. There was a voice again but this time was different from the previous one. This one even called him his name while the first one did not. This had to be different from the one calling him weakling.
Frodo felt his chest tighten. That must be true – being a weakling. He had always been weak. He could not stand Merry's Ring-induced inflicted pains. And now he could not stand being led by the Ring to punish his cousin – something that was right and proper.
"I am weak," muttered Frodo under his breath. "Weak, weak," he said over and over as if in delirium.
Gandalf rocked the halfling that had started to shiver again. The wizard's brow creased.
"Weak… weak…"
"Frodo," called Gandalf in a determined voice. "Why are you saying that? You are not weak That is not true." The wizard shook Frodo.
"Talk to me, Frodo."
"I am weak," mumbled Frodo. "A weakling."
"Frodo! Talk to me!"
TBC
AN: I know I've been slow in updating any of my series. So I would like to say thanks to anyone who is still with me. And to aelfgifu, my greatest appreciation for still being there!
CleopatraVII: School is always like that! But I'm glad you still read this.Yahiko: It is as precious as oxygen! How do you think about this one?
Skye12: I seem to not be able to write long chapters. LOL. Thanks for liking Sam and Gandalf's dialogue. BTW, your chapters are thrilling!
endymion2: Pippin hasn't reached his age in the quest so I guess it's natural for him to be a bit childlike. Thank you, deary!
heartofahobbit: I hope I can have more time to do the reviewing – especially to your chaps! Thanks for reading and again, reviewing!
FrodoBaggins87: LOL. Hope you're not confused anymore.
