Every Man for Himself
Disclaimer: LOTR still isn't mine. Not making any money out of this. 'Tis all purely for your enjoyment (and mine). So enjoy! :D
Chapter 4: One Darkness into Another
3 May 3019 – Late at Night
Even before he was fully aware again, he was struck hard with a sensation of pain. It was like a blizzard – merciless and unquenchable in its wrath. As he made the slow journey back to consciousness, he became more cognisant of the incessant pounding in his head, particularly around his left temple. His neck was aching beyond belief, and he was certain that his wrists and ankles were on fire. His left ankle felt particularly tender though – in fact his entire left side seemed to be distinctly worse off than his right. But his left shoulder was another story entirely. That pain was in a league of it's own. It hadn't felt this bad since his last encounter with the nazgûl. Deep in the muscle he felt a pulse like a heart made of cruel ice.
For a moment he wondered how and why he felt so terrible. Then his body went rigid, despite the increase of pain. As his brain began to work a little faster, it suddenly occurred to him how familiar this position and pain was. Throbbing neck, throbbing head, painful shoulder, burning wrists and ankles…
He wanted to scream out in denial. How could this be? He could not possibly have dreamed the last month and a half… Could he? But here he was with the same pains as he had felt on March the 13th when he had awoken in Cirith Ungol. When he had awoken to find the world a nightmare.
His other senses were clearing now also. He was lying on a hard and unforgivable floor of stone. It was cold with wet patches here and there. He was lying on his left side, which would explain why that half of him was suffering more. His arms and legs were bound tightly with a thick rope. So tightly that his hands and feet were going numb. That explained the burning effects then. But not the horrid stench that filled his nostrils.
He paused as the full meaning of this new realisation impacted with him. Before Cirith Ungol he had been unfortunate enough to smell Orcs before. But this scent was different. While it was still foul enough, this reek wasn't quite as overpowering, nor as sickening as the stink of the slaves of evil. A tiny light of hope flickered into life within him. Perhaps it hadn't all been a dream after all!
But then why was he in so much pain? What had happened? Had he just been stung by Shelob and kidnapped by Orcs? Or had something else occurred? His foggy memory fought desperately to find the answer. He vaguely remembered an old inn and lots of Men. But beyond that… everything was a blur.
He heaved a mental sigh. There was nothing for it. He was waking up. His eyes fluttered open, only to find that he had gone from one darkness into another. Wherever he was, it was pitch black. His eyes darted about desperately, seeking to distinguish something – anything from the gaping black void about him.
He was struggling now. Struggling against his bonds, against his fears, against the madness that was threatening to consume him. Aragorn had promised that there would be no more darkness! He suddenly had a vivid memory of the King kneeling down to his level and clasping his hands, swearing reassurances that the darkness had been destroyed and would threaten no more.
THEN WHY WAS IT STILL DARK?
He flipped over onto his back, a small grunt being the only sign of his momentary flare of pain. He was no longer struggling. He was fighting. He bit into the bonds around his wrists, somehow managing to locate the knot. Then with a ferocity some wild animal might be expected to possess, he tore at it with his teeth, only stopping when his mouth and throat became so dry that he broke into a fit of coughing.
At the time he counted those coughs as a blessing sent straight down to him from the Valar themselves. For when they subsided, he distinctly heard heavy footsteps coming closer and closer.
Suddenly his prayers were answered, and light met his eyes. A door opened from somewhere above him, spilling a warm yellow glow onto several stone steps leading down to the floor in which he lay. He blinked rapidly a few times, his eyes adjusting to the new light. Then he realised that he was in fact in a cellar, although the shelves that normally would have held bottles of wine were empty. In fact the whole place was empty but for him. And the man that stood at the top of the staircase.
The first thing that Frodo realised about this man was how tall he was. He was perhaps just a little shorter than Aragorn. But Aragorn was certainly not so menacing. The light that spilled from behind the man erased his features into a taunting silhouette. His previous madness now completely forgotten, Frodo shrank back. He had been in the company of bad people before. After being so cautious and wary of everyone he encountered while bearing the Ring, his instincts had become somewhat more refined. He did not doubt for a heartbeat that this man was going to do him a lot more harm than good.
But the man seemed to sense this new fear. Frodo fancied that his lips curled into a smile, and his eyes glinted with a repugnant satisfaction.
"Well, well, well," he said. There was a dangerous softness to his voice that sent a fearful chill down Frodo's spine. "Awake at last I see."
He spoke with a taunting tone that caused Frodo to momentarily forget his fear in indignation. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want with me?" Regardless of this new anger, he was dismayed at how weak his voice sounded – even to himself. Even the man laughed – a truly terrible sound, for it was cold and merciless. Frodo mused grimly that he probably would have done well in the service of Sauron.
"Who am I?" repeated the man. He laughed softly to himself again before descending the stairs until he stood right over the hobbit. He squatted down until their faces were only inches apart. "I am yer new definition of hell, little thing. And you… Yer what's gonna make me rich."
TBC
A/N: As ever, thank you Lexi for helping me out with some of the finer details. sends BIIIIIIG hug :D
Breon Briarwood – Thank you! I hope it continues to be 'good' too! :D As for drunken Legolas, I'll be playing around with that a bit more in future chapters. ;)
Curious Cat – I'm glad you enjoyed the 'fuss'. And you are absolutely right! The hobbits can't be expected to stick together all of the time! And when you've got someone as stubborn as Frodo, someone as… let's say immature as Pippin, someone who's like a bit of a mix of them both as Merry, and someone like Sam who's just trying to do the right thing for everyone, something's bound to give! And I have no idea what it is about Frodo! He just asks to get into trouble! Hehehe.
hush1630 – I'm glad you're hooked! Thank you! And poor Frodo indeed! He's not having a very good time of this, is he? Hope I'm updating quick enough! :D
Iorhael – Glad to hear from you again! :D Thank you very much for the other email! I did reply (albeit a bit belatedly, sorry!) and I am glad to say that you're input has helped me greatly! I'm glad you're glad that you're someone's inspiration, hehehe.
Kaewi – I'm sure the journey from Rivendell to Parth Galen was packed with little episodes like the dirt in the dinner! Hehehe. ESPECIALLY when you're travelling in the company of four such prone hobbits as these four! :D
Mythwen – Yes, THE question has finally been answered! Glad I'm updating quick enough! :D It's been hard not to write more! My laptops' just been begging me to continue. Hehehe.
Pip4 – Glad to hear you're enjoying it! Hope this latest chapter is still good. And you'll soon see exactly what happens to Frodo and the others! They're all in for a bit of a hard time, that's for sure. ;)
rabidsamfan – lol. I'll make an exception for you to laugh just this once! Hehehe. I'm glad you enjoyed it so much! The 'hobbit spat' just kinda wrote itself, but I did have fun doing it! Thank you very much too!