Faces of War

Chapter 29: Imagining

Disclaimer: No, these characters are not mine...although I wish they were! These character's, in their original form are th work of J.R.R. Tolkien...I have just "adapted" them for my own imaginative freetime.....

Someonespecial...love the new name! Yes, I must admit my own thinking about Orc's changed after reading jodancingtree's "following the other wizard"....and like Frodo, I have to believe that someone, even as evil as an orc, can "come back"...Oh yes, Sam and Frodo will reunite...even now as the story progresses you'll see that Sam is bing "gifted" in a sense with his visions of Frodo...although Sam sees it as more of a curse as he witnesses Frodo's pain in all it's unfettered starkness.

endymion2....Anborn just can't get this hobbit out of his mind...he may just have to take one more shot at his retribution...and Sam's visions are going to help him later,,,even though he sees now only that these "pictures" of Frodo are bringing him torment...these images will serve a purpose...and poor ole Aragorn...being a King is very trying...he is caught up in trying orchestrate a rescue of very large proportions...these Corsair ships require nearly two hundred men to handle them...and he is a little short handed....but he will I hope be duped only long enough to help the story progress and not long enough for us to lose faith in our Ranger of the north!

Elanorelle....Thanks so very much for taking the time to review...there are so many fun and wonderful stories out there...it is hard to chose which ones to follow isn't it? I find that I myself probably read two chapters for everyone that I am able to review....I must remind myself to be better about this as well! I don't know how I could let Frodo die...he will have times when he wishes for death...but we will see what happens! Thanks for your kind words...I hope you'll keep reading....

Shire Baggins...I must take a moment to thank you...you have been amongst one of my very faithful reviewers....I appreciate it when one as talented as yourself takes the time time review the work of others...I must remember to do the same! Yes, Frodo found the encounter with the cave in a bit punishing...he does have a few broken ribs...thank goodness for the compassion of Qurag...Frodo has strength to give to others...a will to live for the good of others...little sense of worth or value beyond that I am afraid...he sees his purpose here as tied to the vision of the Valar and the saving of the children....the interaction between Frodo and the Orcs will also be a telling part of Frodo's future.

Iorhael....Galen is discovering or re-discovering his humanity through Frodo's suffering....in a strange way the Orcs are finding the meaning of humanity through this same hobbit...our little Frodo is somewhat of a bridge between cultures...both capable of atrocities or compassion it would seem...

Toleman cocked his head to one side. His ears, after months in the deadening silence of the caves, were very sensitive to any change in the area around him. There was a feeling, a sense, a vague notion of disquiet and unease that attached themselves to his sense of hearing. He lifted his head from his task of boiling herbs, to see that all the others heard nothing and in fact were busy about their appointed tasks. He shrugged and quirked his eyebrow in a gesture of scepticism and went back to his work of stripping the leaves from the stems of the plants and immersing them in steaming water to steep. No sooner had he dropped the first leaf in the water than he heard a tremendous explosion and felt the ground rumble and shake beneath him. He spun away from the fire and grabbed the nearest child as he instinctively raced to the far reaches of the cavern.

The air was enveloping him in a cloud of slowly rolling dust that sought to cover him in it's wake. He was vaguely aware of the screams and cries of the children as he heard Galen shout to them "run...hurry, HURRY" the guard's voice became shrill with urgency and all ran as the ground shook, dust surrounded them and their cries echoed from the close embrace of the cavern walls. Their feet, given the speed of their fear, wasted no time and they found themselves all safely away from the site of the worst damage from the blast. Galen, panting from his fear and burst of energy, sought to slow his ragged breathing and congratulated all present on their escape. Then, he took inventory of who had escaped and what exactly the damage had been.

A row of raggedly dressed and dirt coated children stared back at him. He did a quick mental count, of the 23 that had started the day with him, 22 now remained. He grimaced and counted again, wanting to be sure of his facts before he set people to panicking. Galen turned to Kylos who was standing, head and back bent over, hands on his knees to provide sustenance as he struggled to catch his breath. "One 'o the wee ones, new boy, brought here jest yesterday from the abandoned settlements near ta the bluffs, he's about 10 years of age, dark hair..." he said as he voice trailed off "he's not here." The burley guard bent his head towards Kylos, to better hear the words of the young one, "he was talking with Anborn when last I saw him" the lad panted. Galen felt a knot in his stomach, time spent with Anborn could lead to nothing good and he felt the color drain from his face as he wondered at the game that Anborn now played.

"Garth" Kylos whispered, " his name is Garth". Galen's head rose abruptly from where he'd been staring into Kylos's eyes, he felt his heart lurch at the free use of the name he'd given his eldest son. "Garth?" he said perplexed. "Yes" Kylos continued "he has only just joined us In the last day or two...while you were off with Mendal, hunting for the camp. Galen's mind was drawn back inexorably to the long ago dark day he'd returned from a training encampment with his fellow soldiers of Gondor to find his village lying in smoking ruins. He clenched his eyes closed and steadied himself against the rough coolness of the cavern wall. Image upon image flashed before him and he drew his breath in sharply as pictures of ruin, pain and death filled his mind. The forlorn figure of his tiny Kindra, honey curls matted with blood, eyes open and sightless as she lay in the far meadow. His beloved wife of near on 12 years, a lass who'd laughed her way into his heart, her body piled with those of the other villagers, their newest Babe, name unknown as he'd been born while he was away, clutched frantically in her arms. He'd searched the village and questioned all in the surrounding area....but had found no trace of his eldest lad. He clenched his eyes closed and shook his head, he'd assumed that Garth had been tossed into the nearby lake, hands bound as their tormenters had laughed as they'd watched the lads of the village drowned one after another, this after all being the tale told by the one left to tell the tale. He'd spoken with the one witness the Orcs had left alive, an old man they had beaten and then told it would be his job to tell all men of Gondor of the fury of their master. Galen muttered vile curses under his breath and Kylos, still kneeling beside him grew alarmed at the guards shaken form and frightening demeanor "Galen, Galen...are you well?" he whispered softly.

Galen, his moment of hell washed from his mind by the boys intrusive caring, took a deep breath and nodded "aye" he said sadly "aye, now lets get back to the sleeping quarters and see to the lasses and the other young ins....I can see that Dalmer meant only ta trap us...he'd not of known of our escape tunnel to the rear....lets jest hope that the blast did not set us back to terrible." Galen helped Kylos to his feet and rounded up Toleman and the others and herded them back to the children's cavern where they lit several more torches and inspected the damage to the rear tunnel network.

Kylos and Galen conversed softly as they waited anxiously for Mela, a tiny slip of a girl, to crawl back into the narrow and twisting crawl space they'd managed to dig so far. She came back in a moment, wiping dust from her eyes as she handed the torch to Galen " 'tis jest a bit loosened Galen, me and the others could clear and finish the last bits in less than a day I'm thinking" she said, her optimism shining in her round eyes. Kylos felt his relief course through him, but then a nagging worry came to him as he thought once more of Rosetta and Frodo. "What of them" he whispered stricken as he turned to Galen, eyes filled with worry and fear "what has the blast done ta them?". Galen, his eyes full of pain clasped the lad upon his shoulder "let us see to gettin' the other young in's out first lad, then we shall see what other help may be had ta help us free yer sister and the hobbit." Kylos looked puzzled until Galen explained his encounter with the provisioning officers and his directions to have them meet him in the ridge woods. Kylos sighed with relief "you've met our Ada's Sam...now I can feel that all may at last be well" the lad said with a smile. Galen was touched by the apparent warmth the boy felt for the hobbit "aye, after listenin' ta Frodo's tales of Sam I'd expect no less than a miracle of hope and a triumph of wills from that one." The man paused a moment and then with a puzzled expression asked"what name did ye call yer Sir Frodo by just now?". Kylos smiled, a tiny twist of his lips, as if he was embarrassed to be caught "Ada" he said quietly " 'tis elvish for 'Father'...Rosetta started it and when the others heard, well, the name seemed ta fit 'em and so it is what we call him...at least amongst ourselves" he finished defensively. Galen shook his head " 'tis nothin' ta be so prickly about lad, 'tis a name I'm sure Frodo would wear with pride if he knew of it.". The big hearted guard found himself hoping that there'd be a time when the Hobbit knew of the regard in which these lost children held him.

As the echos of the blast retreated from it's momentary omnipresence and the shaking of the ground beneath his feet subsided, Frodo dared to breath once more. His slowly indrawn breath, filled with the dry caress of dust as it slowly glided down his throat, held his feet stilled even as his frame shook from the pain filled contortions of his paroxysm of coughing. He felt the sweat run down the back of his neck, his already damp collar becoming sodden in his effusive trembling. His legs felt weak and as he grasped blindly at the rough angles of the wall before him, he feared he would collapse, and was relieved to feel the knobby and calloused hand of Durzak grasping him by the dampness of his shirt. His coughing rose up to overwhelm his senses and for long moments, naught but the harsh strident sound of lungs pushed beyond their strength, the wheezing of air sought too greedily and the occasional moan of one lost to their world of pain, filled the focus of those present.

Qurag stood, stilled by the fear brought to him by the tremor of the cavern wall. He clasped Rosetta to him, his muscled arms a barrier to that which would bring harm to the sun haired child in his possession. The persistent pain wracked sound of Frodo's cough had stilled for a fraction of a second as the walls about them had trembled and shaken it's coating of dust newly upon the visitors standing in the shadow of it's walls. As the shaking slowly receded to the distant spaces to the front of the caves Qurag found his way to the side of the burly Orc and his charge. "We go, no more wait, quickly go" Qurag said firmly as he stooped to pick up a frightened Princess and put his hand out to pull Durzak's arm. They had no time to ponder what force had brought more shaking to their world of dark and dust, he felt an urgent need to press on knowing that only danger and more pain lurked in the depth of the dark behind them.

Durzak, taking his cue from the smaller Orc, hurriedly pulled Frodo into his arms and followed. The cave was still, the stagnant air dark and invasive in it's ability to creep and crawl upon their skin and into the worried recesses of their fears. Frodo could hear the Princess murmuring in her softly sniffled sobs about "big dark" and he longed to reach to her and comfort her, to let her know that this dark was safe for at least it sought only to surround their bodies, not to invade one's mind and heart as had the darkness of his nightmares. He was so weary, his mind and body ached with his fatigue, and he found himself so very grateful that the Orc saw his way to carrying him through the winding passages of the dark and cloying closeness of the tunnels. The thickness of the dust, the heat and stillness of the dank air made breathing every breath an effort which required Frodo to concentrate, to focus all of his waning strength on the sensation of bringing the stale air in and out of his pain ravaged lungs.. The pain from his ribs had grown to a stabbing agony, the cough that had been lurking in the back of his throat saw fit just then to come forth and the violence of it's sudden wave of torturous pain caused him to shudder. He tried in vain to still and quiet the agonizing motions of his chest, succeeding only in managing to gasp and inhale deeply, causing another round of coughs to begin. His vision, already impaired from the pervasive darkness, began to waiver, the walls about him seeming to fade and the dark scarred etchings upon Durzak's skin to dance before him.

Qurag frowned when his eyes, sharpened from years of cave dwelling, spied the pale and trembling form of the ringbearer. He tightened his grasp upon the limp form of the sun haired child, grateful that she at least was quiescent in his arms and he wondered what fate had in store for them. He increased the pace of his steps, the sound of Frodo's groans urging him to grunt words in black speech to hurry the steps of the burley Orc behind him. The air began to feel gradually lighter and a soft cooling motion of air brushed by his sweaty cheeks and as his feet found a sharp downward turn beneath them he found himself in a portion of the cavern's innards that were gradually opening up to a larger and larger space. His breathing became easier and he grunted again to Durzak to hasten as he spied light in the far distance.

With a grunt of relief Quarag saw a crack in the wall before him and with a burst of speed came forth through the jagged opening to feel at last the cool breath of early evening air that his lungs so desired. He clasped the girl to his chest tightly and felt her sharply indrawn breath of surprise at the sudden change in his posture as he worked to squeeze himself through the roughly hewn and narrow opening. The uneven surface of the rock scraped painfully against his skin but he paid it no heed, so anxious was he to find his way out. With a last twist and a grunt of effort he managed to get he and the sun haired child through the opening.

He set the girl down and reached back to help Durzak maneuver the unconscious body of the ringbearer through the crack. Frodo's head lolled listlessly backwards and Durzak struggled to move the dead weight of the ringbearer forward to Qurag while keeping the hobbit's head from coming in contact with the wall. Qurag reached to wrap his arms about the shoulders of the hobbit and with a careful twist of his arms gently pulled the dust covered head and shoulders of the ringbearer towards him until the prone form of the hobbit was pulled at last from the dank confines of the cave. Qurag dragged his limp form to rest near to the girl child and watched as Durzak, with some grunting and his scarred face contorted with his effort, finally freed himself from the grip of the narrow opening.

The shadows of evening danced about the scrub brush they'd landed in, the soft caress of the wind soothing and rejuvenating in it's touch, the freedom to breathe deeply and fully a tonic to their weary minds. Qurag looked upon the still form of the ringbearer and the of the sun haired child who had wrapped herself about him. Her childish entreaties breaking into the detachment of his thoughts "Sir. Frodo, we did it, we're out...we can find the others and go home now Sir Frodo...Frodo" she shook him gently "Frodo?...wake up Sir Frodo..." her soft words became interspersed with sniffles and Qurag could see the leaking of water upon her face. He knelt by her side "He rest now. He need drink to heal hurts. Must find help." his voice sounded harsh beside the quiet gentle tones of the child. "You must help him then Qurag, you must give him some of your drink...then we shall go find Kylos." Rosetta said with certainty and a smile.

The Orc looked to Durzak and gestured for the skin only to receive an answering grunt and series of sounds to indicate an answer that did not meet with Qurag's pleasure. Qurag grunted louder and motioned more insistently, a gleam of anger in his eyes and a sneer upon his lips Durzak finally complied. Qurag frowned at his companion and went to put his hands behind the Ringbearer's neck, to hoist him up for a chance to drink from the draught that would bring him some measure of relief.

Qurag felt his wrist grasped by the slender fingers of the ringbearer and he looked to see wide blue eyes, eyes shadowed with pain and despair, looking to him. "Don't waste it now Qurag" Frodo whispered "I don't have much time left....I should like you to see my Princess to safety...you go and leave me here...take her to find help..." his words were little more than gasps and Qurag had to bend low to hear them. Rosetta bent to wrap her arms about Frodo's neck "No, we'll not leave you " she said firmly "will we Qurag?". The Orc looked with understanding to the hobbit, he could see the desire of the little one beside him, felt the anguish in his unspoken words, knew that the ringbearer would forsake his own life to save the sun haired one at his side. He continued to lift Frodo's head "drink, not time yet, we still go, we together have hope, alone we have none." Frodo closed his eyes and sighed as he nodded briefly, accepting once more the burden of his pain he opened his eyes and took but a small swallow of Qurag's foul brew and coughed in response to the harsh fire in his throat. Qurag held the ringbearer gently as his cough shook his tiny frame and watched his face whiten from the pain this movement cost him. The Orc looked to Frodo's eyes to ascertain his readiness for more travel, seeing a quiet acceptance and resignation there he motioned to Durzak, together they picked up their charges and began to make their way through the shadows of the evening.

The stark quiet of the quarry stood in sharp contrast to Sam's memory of just days ago. The encampment echoed with the quiet of his last vision of men shouting, whips cracking and horses

straining to pull their heavy loads of stone. He felt his heart harden in fear and anger as he looked to the opening of the cavern, it's opening filled with the destruction wrought by the men's last blast. Sam clenched his fists and turned to Legolas and the others "Why, why'd they do such a thing....and to the wee ones no less...what manner of man buries children alive?" Legolas turned his eyes from Sam, looking to Gimli for support said "Men with no regard for the gifts of Iluvitar, men we shall surely hunt to their deaths." Gimli growled his assent and hoisted his axe "aye, they'll feel the kiss of my axe soon of that I can assure you master Gamgee." Sam shook his head and looked to his companions " 'tis not revenge I'm wantin'...it is but the chance to see my master, to hold 'em, to tell him of my sorrows...and of my love, for all he's done and my hope for all he has yet to do." Sam's voice broke in his pain "do you not see? Mr. Frodo's

tasks are not done yet...the Valar hold greater purpose for him, and we must help for I see that the children are a part of this purpose...we must get the children from the cave!". Merry and Pippin suddenly materialized by Sam's side "Aye, he 'tis right in this Gimli, Frodo followed his vision to the children...and we must do our part now" said Pippin, his usual sparkle of humor transformed to a fire of purpose which added depth to his commitment.

Legolas looked to the Dwarf, paused but a moment and nodded as he motioned to his elf Kindred to take up any shovel or tool they could find and begin the task of excavating the blast site. The hobbit's soon found that they could not match the elves in strength or length of limb, their efforts combined were paltry compared to the ageless grace of the elves or the knowledge of Gimli and they were soon given other tasks. Sam paced the top of the ridge impatiently and watched the progress of the work below, he dared not rest for that was when his images came to him most clearly and he could not bear the pain and anguish that was a too frequent visitor to his dreams.

His eyes searched the depths of the ridge woods, the smell of crisp pine and the feel of softened leaf decay beneath his feet brought him back to moments in the Shire. He closed his eye, transported to a day of warmth and childish play in the woods near the row. He heard in his mind the voices of his youth "rangers move with stealth Sam, they move as one with the woods about them, their skills not being limited to those of the warrior, but also that of the elves....they may seem to become one with the woods about them...until you least expect it" ...came Frodo's melodious voice, a voice which never ceased to hold Sam in it's spell. He recalled the panic he'd felt when of a sudden his Master Frodo was nowhere to be seen, a frantic look about him brought to his sight only the tall pines and low lying hollyhocks of the forest. He'd felt his breath catch and his heart start to race as he'd feared, not for the first time, that his magical Master had up and disappeared...gone ta the places only the elf types could visit and he wiped a tear from his cheek before he could even yell out. His stomach had tightened and his head had hurt with the knowledge that his fey friend may have taken it upon himself to seek other realms, he couldn't hold back a sob and was soon sitting upon a blanket of pine needles, head buried in his arms sobbing his loss for all the world to hear.

A gentle touch upon his arm, the firm grasp of a hand upon his chin and he was looking into the endless dream of Frodo's blue eyes, eyes filled with remorse and worry. "Sam, I was just up ahead there, in that copse of trees...I did not mean to get so far from you...please don't worry so my Samwise, I'd not do anything to worry you of purpose my friend." Sam had found his young body enfolded in the hug of his tweenaged Master and guide, and had shamefacedly tried to hide his worry and tears behind the made up excuse of a twisted ankle. Frodo had helped him home with many smiles and words of encouragement, even as Sam had accepted his aid for an ankle that bore no mark or deformity, a circumstance which he'd felt even then, had not passed by his clever Master. He'd never had the courage to explain to his gentle and kind friend the worries that had taken him that day. He sat suddenly beneath a sturdy pine and buried his head in his arms, now he felt he might never be given the chance to and the fear and emptiness of memories they might never share came upon him and he sobbed once more as he'd done that day in the forest of the Shire, yet this time there was no steady voice to comfort him.