The Faces of War
Chapter 1: Restless
The soft glow of morning was slowly creeping over the distant mountains as the days' presence made itself known. The spires of the city soon reflected the intended glory of the day as
Minis Tirith arose from it's slumber. The sultry heat of the early morning was magnified by the stillness of the air, no breeze or wisp of air was stirring.
In a tower room on the seventh tier of the city a restless sleeper sought to hold on to his last moments of peaceful slumber. The burgeoning heat of the day entered his dreams and he was suddenly aware of his discomfort. His thin pale face glistened with a fine sheen of sweat and his dark curls were plastered to his neck and forehead.
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Heat, glaring endless heat and the torture of the relentless strength of the sun haunted his steps. He had to keep moving, one step, another. The sun bore down upon him as he looked to the distant barren landscape, he saw only mile upon mile of dead twisted brush and grey rock and dust. 'Hot' he thought to himself and felt the heat with every fiber of his mind. He lifted his hand to wipe the sweat from his dry eyes and kept on moving. His burden was heavier now and he walked stooped and often stumbled in his weariness. A sudden dizziness took him and he swayed as if to fall but was distracted by the absence of his companion. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun as he searched the ugly misshapen land around him. His breaths came faster as panic took him, he was alone. "Sam" he murmured hoarsely, "Sam" he gasped and then he cried "SAM".
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The noise of hastily running feet filled the corridor. The chamber door was flung open and in seconds a sandy haired figure knelt by the side of the bed.
"Shhhh, I'm here now Mr. Frodo, I'm here..." Sam said softly as he reached for his friend's hand. Sam looked at the pale and sweat drenched form before him "it's gonna be jest fine Mr. Frodo".
Frodo lay panting upon the confusion of richly brocaded coverings, his fists clenching the sheets in tight balls, his eyes still closed. Sam looked quickly about the chamber and took in the jumbled bed covers, the piles of books and abundance of water glasses scattered about the room. He noted that the glasses were in various stages of being started or finished. He sighed quietly to himself, it seemed as if Frodo could never get enough water. As if his friend had read his mind, a weak voice from the bed said "thirsty Sam....water please." "Coming up sir, but I shouldn't think ye'd be able to hold another drop from the look 'o things round here." Sam replied.
Frodo smiled weakly in reply to his friend's jest and opening his eyes began to slowly lift himself from his pillows. He found he had to stop his upward motion and clench his eyes closed to fight against the dizziness that assailed him. He froze for a moment to still the motion of his mind then exhaled forcefully, not even realizing he'd been holding his breath. Sam was just within reach and his hand shot out to steady him "Frodo?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"It's all right Sam, just a little dizzy 'tis all." Sam stared at Frodo, not fully satisfied and Frodo placed his pale hand upon Sam's roughened one and staring straight into his warm brown eyes said emphatically " I am fine Sam....really."
Sam stared a moment at his friend, making his own judgement regarding his health and thought to himself 'yer not fine, yer weak, ya don't eat barely a'tall, ya don't sleep sound...yer not fine' but he said "If yer certain of it Sir...here let me help ya ta sit up a bit more, there you go...there jest like that" He said as he gently helped Frodo to a more upright position then leaned him back into a veritable nest of pillows. Sam gave him a fresh cup of water "Thank you Sam" Frodo said with a quiet smile that gently cast his lips upwards but did not reach his eyes. Sam had to turn away so that Frodo'd not see the tear that came to his eye when the emptiness of his friend's smile caught him off guard.
Sam bustled about the room, making his body busy to still the unrest in his mind. "Up reading late again I see. I fer one canna see where Strider even finds ya all these books....surely ye've read 'em all by now?" Sam said with forced cheerfulness as he tried to bring order to the confusion around him.
"Sam" Frodo, his eyes still closed, spoke with quiet bemusement from his nest of pillow "You'd best remember to address our King in a more respectful manner. Sam froze and suddenly paled "I meant him no disrespect Mr. Frodo..I...I" Frodo smiled again and opening his eyes took in the discomfort his comment had caused. "Now Sam, not to worry my friend, our King will always be Strider to us. Why I daresay he might not allow you to call him by any other name when we're together". "Well now Mr. Frodo I can speak of him to you as Strider sure enough, but being the ninnyhammer that I am...well I jest might ferget myself one day and call him that in front of someone important..and how would that look?" Sam asked, clearly exasperated by his mistake. "It would look like the type of mistake a dear and close friend might make, and therefore 'twould easily be forgiven" Frodo reassured his trusted servant. "Hummpf" was Sam's grunted reply as he handed his Mr. Frodo a dampened towel and stood by waiting for him to use it.
Frodo looked up with gratitude to Sam as he took the towel and wiped the nights' sweat from his face and sleep from his eyes. He groaned his appreciation and stretched as he tried in vain to loosen his ever sore and tired muscles. "Who are these important 'folks' you speak of Sam?" Frodo asked "anyone in particular or just all the people's of middle earth who want our King's attention now?" " 'twasn't thinking of a any one special person Mr. Frodo, just special people such as the lords 'n ladies and such that flit about the place here." Sam replied . Frodo nodded.
"Now Sir, I'm off ta get yer tea...that is unless ye'd be liking some breakfast ta help it down with?" Sam asked hopefully eyeing the too thin form of his master as he stretched again. "No thank you Sam, not hungry" Frodo said softly, a shadow passing over his face as he tried to avoid making eye contact with Sam. He knew how much it hurt Sam when he did not eat, but his throat was often sore and he found all but the softest food difficult to swallow. He couldn't worry Sam with all the reasons why he couldn't eat, it was just easier to say he was not hungry. Frodo's efforts to keep Sam from worrying earned him another "hummpf" from the back of Sam's head as he turned to leave the room.
"Sam?" Frodo's questioning tone stopped the stocky hobbit in his tracks, he turned. "Yes Mr. Frodo?" "Has Aragorn mentioned any difficulties arising outside the gates of the city of late?" Frodo asked. " Difficulties Sir? In what manner do ya mean?" Sam asked in reply as he cocked his head and stared suspiciously at his friend. Frodo looked out the window, over the spires of the city...a faraway look in his gentle blue eyes. Sam stepped back towards him "Sir? What sort of difficulties are yer meaning?" he asked with a slowly growing edginess in his tone. Sam watched his master's face carefully for any sign that might tell him just what thoughts might be passing behind his brilliant blue eyes. He frowned a bit when he thought he a saw a tinge of pain pull at the corner of his master's mouth.
Frodo clenched his eyes closed and slowly turned his head from one side to another as a smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Frodo, Sir....What is it?" Sam was becoming worried by the tone and the faces his master was making...'jest what is he trying so hard not to tell me?' he thought as he waited for Frodo to respond. Frodo sighed as he smiled a wistful, 'you'll never understand' smile and said " 'tis nothing Sam, well I guess maybe it's that...well with all the affairs of the world laid at the feet of our friend Strider I'm just feeling a little lost in the midst is all." Sam exhaled his worry "Well...if getting you lost in a midst is gonna allow you to rest and get yerself better....well then I'd like to see a little more midst here about." Sam said stoutly, still eyeing his friend with a certain degree of suspicion, he left to go get the morning tea, leaving Frodo's laugh in his wake.
Frodo smiled at his Sam...'He is a treasure, and no mistake' he thought to himself...allowing his thoughts to slide into the vernacular of his gardener. He sighed and began to massage his temples as he felt an oncoming warning of pain that was waiting for him...no, there was no mistake...it was coming. He wondered when was the last time he'd had one of these headaches?
He couldn't face where his memories might lead him with that question...he forced his thoughts elsewhere. He took stock, his dreams were allowing him no rest...the headache was lurking in his every daytime moment...and it was becoming more difficult to hide from Sam. 'I'd best let this one come then....or Sam 'll see it for sure. He leaned back and closed his eyes...he opened his mind and his thoughts began to wander....
Sam stomped down to the kitchen 'somethin's not right with him I jest know it....why does he have to be so stubborn?' he thought as he descended yet another set of stairs. He went through a mental checklist 'he's not sleeping well...that's plain enough, but not nothing new Samwise' he chastised himself. 'He's worried about Aragorn's tasks as King....afraid he'll wear 'imself out I expect' He shook his head. As he rounded the last corner and entered the lower kitchen the image of Frodo's face and his slight grimace of pain came to him. "He's getting one of those headaches I'll bet" he said out loud as the realization came to him. " A headache Master Samwise? Shall I be calling a healer for ya" asked a pert red cheeked scullery maid. "What? Oh no Jana...not fer me thanks...jest talking through my worries I was....thanks anyway" He said a little embarrassed at being caught talking to himself. He started gathering his tea tray and put a few delicate biscuits on a tiny plate as well. 'He might jest eat this dainty bit and not even realize
it.' he thought to himself hopefully. He frowned as he picked up the tray and made his way back up the steps to their chambers. .With the image of his fragile master playing in his mind he shook his head at the notion of a hobbit not being hungry, it just was not possible. Sam wondered yet again what food it was that his master craved..." 'E must want something and I jest haven't found it yet'. With that thought in mind, he prepared to enter the chamber.
Frodo's vision slowly enveloped him.....
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It was hot, the heat waves danced about as the shimmering sun beat down upon the line of stumbling marchers. Men on horseback stalked the perimeter of their prize. The dead stillness of the desert was broken by the sounds of harshly shouted commands and cracking whips as the air filled with the weight of their threats. The marchers doggedly continued, trying to keep pace with the unyielding demands of their captors. Suddenly one fell and another rushed to it's aid. As these marchers broke rank, the others stopped, swaying dazed and disoriented by their fatigue and fear. "Yo...you there, get ya on back ta where ya belong" shouted one man as he gleefully uncoiled his whip to enforce his command. The whip snaked out and with a loud crack struck and wound it's way about the neck of the second marcher...the one who'd tried to help. With a cry the marcher was pulled off his feet and dragged back to his place in line, sobbing. The man with the whip swung his leg from his saddle and approached the fallen marcher with an ugly sneer on his hardened face. He kicked the dust covered heap at his feet "ah...this one's no good...let the vultures get it" . His eyes turned skyward to the trailing scavengers, he'd ensure they met no resistance with their prey, he raised his club high....
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Frodo swung his feet from the bed and stumbled blindly to the window....he clenched his eyes closed and grabbed his head to stop the vision....stop the pain. "No" he screamed eyes wide in terror.
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The blond curls of the little girl were dyed red with her blood, her sightless eyes wide with the horror of her last moments. The Marchers moved on....line after line of stumbling children. The harsh shouts of men, cracking of whips and muffled sobs the only sounds that broke the stillness.
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Frodo's eyes rolled back into his head as the agony of his last vision ripped a hole in his heart.
"No" he sobbed as he collapsed to his knees.
Sam's blood ran cold at the sound coming from behind the chamber door....he dropped the tray with a loud crash and heedless of the mess he'd left he burst into the chamber. At first his frantic eyes could not find that which they so desperately sought...a muffled sob caught his attention and he ran to his master huddled on the floor. He grabbed him by the upper arms and stared into eyes that were glazed with pain and terror...he shook him, wanting to pull him from his pain "Mr. Frodo" he whispered gently, not wanting to frighten him further. Enormous blue eyes pulled him into his private agony as he heard him whimper "No...not the children". Sam caught his master and held him hard as he collapsed. He laid him out carefully and shouted for the hallway page to bring him help.
Sam felt the body of his master stiffen and tense as his muscles contracted and pulled his head and back into an arch. Frodo's eyes rolled back into his head as his muscles suddenly released their hold...then tightened again. Sam tried to still his master's thrashing body, but his stocky form was no match for the convulsions that ripped through the frail figure below him. For moments that stretched into forever Sam struggled to keep his friend from further harm...but each contorted spasm brought his thin body in contact with the hard world in which he lay. Sam cringed as he heard arms,legs and head hit the marble floor and as Frodo's seizure ended it left them both limp. Sam cried tears of relief.
Aragorn ran into the room to find Sam cradling a limp and catatonic Frodo in his arms. He rushed to their side. He looked to Sam's tear stained face for permission then gently took Frodo up in his arms and laid him upon the still rumpled bed. He felt for a pulse and wiping the sweat from Frodo's face passed his hand over eyes that were glazed and unseeing. He carefully used thumb and forefinger to pull down the hobbit's eyelids and give him the appearance of peace. As he gently checked arms, legs and neck for injury he turned to a still shocked Sam. "What happened Sam?" he whispered. "I don't rightly know...I was coming up with his tea and there was a scream...I came in and he was kneeling, with his head in his hands..." Sam said and continued " I went ta him...I tried to help him from his fear and he looked to me like he was trying to climb into my soul...and he said..." Sam paused as he struggled to get it right "He what Sam, what did he say?" Aragorn prodded gently. "He...he said 'no, not the children' and then collapsed on me.." Sam paused to sit by his masters side and he carefully took his thin hand in his. "Then he started twitching and trashing his body ...he was so strong I jest couldn't hold him...I tried Aragorn but his body shook so..." Aragorn sought to reassure the sandy haired hobbit and said "you did all you could Sam..." Aragorn paused as his hands found several cracked ribs and he uttered a most unkingly curse in elvish before turning again to Sam. "Was there anything about his actions, perhaps earlier, or something he may have said that seemed unusual to you Sam?" He asked. Sam paused and looked thoughtful a moment before answering. "Now as you mention it Strider, he did ask me if you'd a spoken of any troubles outside the city walls." Aragorn continued to examine Frodo for injuries and his hands carefully checked his head and face. Never lifting his head from his task his eyes looked to Sam and he locked the warm brown hobbit eyes with his steely gaze as he began to speak. Just then his searching hands came in contact with something wet and warm. This newest discovery elicited another string of elvish that Sam was certain would not have found favor within the halls of Rivendell.
In the ensuing rush to bind up Frodo's broken ribs and stitch the gash on the back of his head , Sam forgot to ask Aragorn what his gaze had meant. Aragorn did not forget, but after seeing to the bandaging and care of the injured hobbit, he left to seek Gandalf's counsel.