Faces of War
Chapter 14: Suffering
Disclaimer: The characters from the AU story are drawn from the inspired writings of J.R.R. Tolkein. I gain nothing....but the chance to explore my own writing style.
This portion of the story is rated R for pain and cruelty to the captured hobbit...hang on Frodo!
Iorheal....if you think Thad is "a bad guy"....wait 'till you meet Dalmer...I must confess ( as I did to M.Bradford...I was inspired by the cool and ruthless detachment of her favorite villain...). Things get pretty rocky for the ringbearer...it's difficult to portray pain and strength at the same time...but I'm trying!
Shire Baggins....Frodo, who is luckily smart and "plucky"...will have to find a ay to hold on to his resolve and his strength of will...in the face of great pain and fearful choices...oops, didn't mean to confuse you with another "shiremate"!
endymion2...I'm glad you found me again! Don't worry about Thad...he is soon to be replaced in the world of villainy by a far greater evil! Frodo's future is looking kinda bleak right now....poor lad...
FrodoBaggins87....Sorry that Thad's comment was so unpleasant to you...I do hope you realize that it is of course not true and that the "wrong doers" of the world like to pull those of high and noble stature "down" to their own lowly levels...so If Thad was "casting aspirations" you did not agree with...that just means you are not a good candidate for "bad guy training"...whew! Anyway, Frodo will find many of his feelings, fears and hopes alike, tied in some way to the future of these children!
The morning dawned clear, the rosebud tinge of pink outlining the snow capped peaks of the White Mountains, a day that held a promise of glory, a day that found Aragorn striding purposefully to the quarters of Master Samwise. He had only to knock once and Sam was to the door, questions tumbling from him as his breath came in gasps " 'ave ya found anything? Anyone seen any sign a Mr. Frodo and the wee ones? What 'ave ye been doing all night?". Aragorn held up two hands to show his surrender "peace my friend, I will answer your questions as soon as you let me in" the King said with a bemused expression. Sam had the grace to look a little shamefaced and with reddened cheeks he opened the door and urged Aragorn into the room.
Aragorn looked sadly at the sandy haired hobbit "Sam, I am afraid we've found nothing, the residents of the camp are fearful and we need to have Terren and Rumeil return to the camp." Sam shook his head in confusion "why sir, what can they ask that ye can't?" Aragorn walked to the window and gestured to the city below " come here Sam" he asked. Sam approached the window and took in the sight of devastation and loss that the citizens of Minas Tirith were surrounded with. The hobbit waited long moments for the King to speak. Aragorn spoke softly "Sam, my people have suffered, the city needs to be rebuilt, but more than that, the people of the city need hope and help....I am prepared to give both, and to offer these things with Terren, Rumeil...and perhaps yourself, overseeing it's distribution." Sam nodded reluctantly,as he felt his face flush with a sense of shame "I'd like ta 'elp ya Aragorn, but ...well my mind's on my Mr. Frodo if you don't mind Sir." He finished sadly. "Yes Sam, I know....and I will release you from this duty as soon as we have information that will guide our search. Right now however, this is how you can best aid Frodo." Sam looked into the depths of the King's deep grey eyes, he saw pain, compassion and kindness and realized that his lifetime loyalties to Frodo, strengthened by all they'd endured, included his friendship to this man. "I will help Aragorn, tell me what yer wishin' and I'll fetch Terren and Rumeil." Aragorn smiled gently at the stalwart hobbit and guided him to a seat at the table. They sat and spoke for nearly an hour and by the time the King excused himself to gather more men for another attempted search, Sam's head was spinning with all the details.
The cracking of whips and brusquely shouted commands of harsh , strident voices filled the early morning air as the children were forced to their feet. Finarian cracked his whip and it's sudden stinging lash woke Frodo with a gasp. With a clean and effortless motion, as if the knife were an extension of his contempt, Finarain cut the ropes about the Hobbit's neck and he was hauled roughly to his feet. He stood unsteady for a moment, and leaned against the wheel of the cart to bolster his weakened legs. He stared submissively to the ground, not wanting to confront their captors in a way that might bring retribution to the children. He was beginning to see the cruelty of these men answered only to to their own selfish needs and not the twinges of conscience that guided the rest of humanity. Head bowed down in a meek appearance of his accepted status, Frodo was alarmed to see that Finarian was forming the children into lines without feeding them. He looked up through dark lashes and dirty curls " Sir Finarian," he said softly at the glaring man before him "how fare the children? For without food and drink to start their day, some will slow the march down or perish from their fatigue."
Finarian scowled and with sudden fury backhanded the hobbit with such force he was thrown to the ground " mind ter yer own affairs halfhigh, I know the business of slavin' " and so saying strode to the front of the wagon and ordered that stale bread and water be given to the children.
Kylos sidled up to the spot where Frodo lay upon his side, up on one elbow gingerly feeling his latest bruise. "Are ye all right then sir?" he whispered, not wanting the guards to take notice of him "that were a brave thing ye did Frodo, I'm certain he had no intent ta feed us". Frodo, with a boost from Kylos came slowly and painfully to his feet "nor I" he said grimly as he stared with anger at the retreating form of Finarian. He turned to catch the look of worry upon Kylos's face and continued "don't worry lad, I am fine...for now" he added, under his breath. He cast his eyes about the activity going on around them...."Kylos, see to the others, I shall keep to Rosetta, since I am soon to be trussed to the wagon again." he said, looking with sorry resignation upon the sight of his sorely chafed and raw hands bound before him. Frodo felt he urgently needed to take these few unguarded moments to speak with Kylos, he would need both their wits about them for them to make it through this. "Kylos, as we enter the camp, keep count of the number of guards, try to absorb what details you can about the location they take us to." the hobbit's voice grew lower as he saw a man approach to take Kylos to his place in line.
Frodo took advantage of his unencumbered status to lean in over the sideboard of the cart "Princess" he whispered looking in concern at the quiet huddled form before him. "Yes Sir Frodo" she whispered back, eyes wide with fear as her hand grasped a dry hunk of dark bread that she periodically would bite from and chew mechanically, taking no pleasure from her food but knowing that she must eat. Frodo's heart was pained from the sheer look of hopelessness upon her dirt streaked face, he resolved to find a way to lessen her fears, by what ever means possible. "Have you ever seen an elf my Princess?" he asked quietly. Rosetta's eyes opened wider and she shook her head 'no' "but I have heard they are the most beautiful of creatures" she said in awe. Frodo smiled, longing to reach over and brush the hair from her face, but restrained by the distance and bonds that secured his wrists. "No dearest, a child in the bloom of youth, no matter their race is the fairest of creatures" he replied gently.
A guard soon came and tied Frodo's hands once more to the lead rope, which had been shortened so he was now forced to walk closer to the cart. This enabled him to whisper stories of elves and far away places to Rosetta as the group was marched trough the morning. One brief stop at noontime and they were again on their way. Frodo looked about him, Rosetta was sleeping, he was grateful for her rest for his voice was hoarse from the effort of many hours of whispered stories. He looked fondly at the child and smiled as he recalled that her favorite story had been that of Princess Arwin and the Ranger Aragorn 'a tale just beginning' he thought as he tried to take his mind from his hurts with a whispered prayer of hope, that these two noble beings should have all they wish from life. He thought of the beauty and grace of the Evenstar, and knew that Aragorn would forever be blessed by the favor of the Valar.
He watched the landscape about him, they were in the foothills of the mountains now, his legs ached from the strain of walking up steep trails and down paths whose many small rocks rolled beneath his feet, making it difficult to keep his balance. He was grateful that he'd only fallen a few times so far during the days march, but feared that his waning energy would soon make stumbling a more frequent occurrence. A sudden cry from one of the guards indicated that they were approaching their destination. Frodo looked about, trying to take in every detail, they were upon the ridge of a vast pit. The meandering path had brought them through a thick forest and ended abruptly at the edge of a large chasm. He looked down, there were men, many who were working and hauling great pieces of granite and some who, with whips and shouts, kept the other men working. He watched, carefully trying to keep his feet as they descended a steep and narrow path to the bottom of the pit. 'There is but one way in and out" he thought and his eyes roamed further. He could see several small holes and a large opening in one of the sharp grey walls of the pit. As he got closer he say that the men who worked to drill, hack and cut the stone were tied about their legs. He shook his head in confusion as he tried to make sense of his surroundings 'where in the name of Eru are we?" he wondered. The cart came to a halt near the larger opening in the wall, Frodo was so busy memorizing the details of his surroundings that he did not notice the approaching footsteps, until his body was suddenly cooled by the shadow standing beside him.
He looked up carefully to see the faces of the men and was savagely backhanded. "Don't go lookin' to yer betters halfhigh, until we tell ya ye can look to our leader" Finarian snarled. Frodo struggled to lift himself from the ground where he'd fallen. A harsh and sarcastic laugh filled Frodo's ears and he looked behind him to the cart to see Rosetta standing, awoken from her nap, she saw the blow that the hobbit had taken. She opened her mouth to protest, but a stricken look from Frodo stilled her and she sat abruptly, watching fearfully to see what the bad men would do to her Sir Frodo, her lip trembled as she fought back her tears 'I shall be brave as Princess Arwin was at the ford' she thought to herself. Frodo, noting Rosetta's quieted posture, sighed in relief, he did not want the attention of the men drawn to the children 'I must do all I can to draw their anger' he vowed as he struggled to his feet at last.
He found his hair entangled in the large fist of a man who slowly wrapped his other hand about the hobbit's neck, the man's entire hand encircling his slender neck. Frodo gasped as he was pulled into the air and grasped wildly with his bound hands to the fingers gripping his neck. His world began to swim in a maelstrom of flashing white light and black dots as his need to breathe became more urgent. As he struggled to retain consciousness he heard a deep voice say
" Very good Finarian, not just any Halfling, but the very one my brother fancied in Ithilian.... 'tis a shame Anborn is not here to see the object of his affections." Frodo's eyes opened wide in remembrance and he felt a chill pass through him. The man holding him pulled him closer for a look "he 'tis a fair one....I can almost see why my brother sacrificed his career." Frodo's hearing began to fade as the black dots swam before him and the last thing he heard was his Princess scream.
When Frodo came to he was lying upon his back, arms and legs stretched and bound to the corners of a rude cot. He looked about him weakly, he was in a cave, dark walls dripping with the moisture of nearby springs. He shuddered, the only light came from a series of torches lit upon the walls; dark, he hated the dark. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his nerves, he'd hated the dark since he was a lad at Brandy Hall. He gulped as he briefly recalled the terror of being locked into the vast cellars of the Hall. 'Steady yourself Frodo Baggins' he thought and he took a deep, calming breath, he knew he'd soon have more than the dark to fear.
The sounds of whips and curses came to him and Frodo wondered if the other prisoners were held here as well. 'The children' he thought 'where are they? Are they to be held near to the other prisoners?' His thoughts betrayed his fear and he groaned in his anguish and started pulling at his bonds. "My dear Halfling, do you not see that it is useless to struggle?" His captor laughed and Frodo strained his head to see who spoke to him. A tall, unshaven man with lank brown hair moved from the shadows. His eyes were hard and his expression filled with contempt as he kneeled by the side of his captive. He reached out a roughened hand and gently stroked the dark tangled curls of the ringbearer " yes, struggling is quite useless" he said with a last ruffle of Frodo's curls. Frodo pulled away in disgust. The man walked to a nearby table and took up a bowl of water and some rags. "I have much to gain, and to take perhaps, from one such as you" he said with a sneer as he knelt once more and this time ran his large hand down Frodo's bare and sunburned chest.
Frodo tried to keep his emotions under control, but his found his breaths becoming more shallow in his discomfort. He steadied himself with effort and sought the words he'd heard this man say as he'd lost consciousness "do I know you?" the hobbit asked, his gentle and refined speech a stark contrast to the harsh sounds made by the man at his side. The man laughed "not me my friend, it's my brother who has made yer acquaintance." The leering form beside him eyed Frodo with interest and the hobbit felt his skin crawl "aye, you are the halfhigh that cost my brother his station in the guard...he desired yer fine and fair skinned body...'though he tells the tale that he 'restrained' himself for his cap't ta have ye first." Frodo stared in horror "that's a lie, Lord Faramir was nothing but honorable." A sudden slap to the hobbit's face brought blood to his nose "ye'll not be calling my brother a liar little one...and perhaps ye shall have the chance to relive old times in a day or two when he returns...and then he'll, well let's say he'll 'refresh' yer memory." Frodo stared in horror at the man beside him..."Dalmer" he whispered "you're Anborn's brother".
Dalmer smiled maliciously "that I am...and I am your 'host'...and as tempten' as ye may be" he paused as he allowed his hand to run down the hobbits chest and rest intimately upon his hip, my mind runs more ta the money ye'll bring me". Dalmer leaned over and dipped a rag in the bowl of water at his feet "with that in mind, I've found that people will pay more for cleaner goods." Dalmer started to wipe the blood from Frodo's face and he leaned in very close to stare into the hobbit's wide blue eyes. Frodo readied himself for yet another intrusion and indignity and was surprised to find Dalmer move away. Dalmer moved to his chest and carefully washed away the dirt of the past days journey. As the man moved from his chest to his feet, he ran his hand down along the length of his body, stopping to offer a lingering caress in his most intimate spot. "I may yet be persuaded though little one, I may" Dalmer said as he commenced washing the Hobbit's feet. Frodo gritted his teeth in agony, from both the pain of his bloodied feet and the humiliation of being so helpless. "Am I hurtin' ya little one?" Dalmer asked with false concern evident in his words..."my, we may jest have to see to these feet of your now?" he said. He stood up and put the bowl on the table and gestured for another man to come from the shadows. From the fear and tremor in the old man's stance, Frodo guessed that he too was a prisoner.
Frodo watched as the old man was forced to sit and handed a parchment and a quill, a bottle of ink place on the table. Dalmer nodded to the man and Frodo heard the scratching sounds of the quill. Dalmer stood back and watched as the likeness of Frodo appeared on the parchment. The old man fearfully handed Dalmer the drawing, and he brought it to show the hobbit. Frodo had to admire the skill of the old man, he vaguely wondered what he had been in days past to still have such talent. "Yes, it looks like me" the hobbit said wearily, "do you intend to send it with a ransom note?". Dalmer smiled "why yes, I think I will...but it does seem to be missing something" he said as he placed it upon the table and handed the old man another piece of parchment. He walked back to Frodo's face and pulling a knife from his belt knelt by the hobbit's side. "Do you know what it is missing?" Dalmer asked moving his face in closer. Frodo's eyes opened wide in terror as he saw the gleam of the nearby torches reflected in the smooth blade of his knife. "An element of fear" Dalmer hissed and he grabbed Frodo's hair, placing the knife at the hobbit's throat as he leaned in and covered Frodo's lips with his own. Frodo nearly retched from the smell and taste and feel of the man's lips upon him, but he dared not move with the blade held so close to his neck. Just when he thought he would faint from this assault upon his senses Dalmer ended the kiss with a brutal bite of Frodo's lower lip. The hobbit screamed as blood sprayed from his torn lip and he arched his head back in pain as he panted.
So distracted was he by the pain of his torn lip that he did not see two more men come from out of the shadows. They stood at the foot of the bed and grasped his leg "still not enough fear little one" Dalmer said as he took his knife and began sawing through flesh and bone as he removed the toe from Frodo's foot. Frodo's agony was reflected in the mad thrashing of his body, he strained at his bonds and screamed in loud gasping sobs as Dalmer sawed through his flesh. The hobbit's screams echoed through the depth of the caverns and many, even the most hardened prisoner, shook their heads in pity for the one chosen to bear that level of pain. Frodo's breath came in hitching sobs and gasps as Dalmer stood before him, holding the bloody remains of his toe. He was dimly aware of Dalmer wrapping the mangled flesh in parchment, before he looked to the rapidly growing pool of blood that dripped from dribbled from his foot to an ever growing puddle upon the floor. He felt his world spin as he managed to thrust his head to one side of the cot and retch, all the foul happenings of the past days caught up in his heaving and choking , until he had nothing left and he weakly rolled his head back. Dalmer's face swam before him "This should loosen the purse strings of the King" he laughed as he waved the bloodied parchment before the hobbit's face. Frodo groaned and tears came to his eyes, the sight of blood, the pain of a missing part of his body...he remembered the moments in Sammouth Naur and he sobbed. There at least he'd had his Sam, the agony of his aloneness overcame him and his eyes rolled back into his head as he fell into foul dreams.