Faces of War
Chapter 34: Consenting
Disclaimer: The magical characters of JRR Tolkien live on in the hearts of all fan fic writers...including me...however, they are the "property" of JRR and his heirs....gladly borrowed for a brief time.
Thanks to all who have been patiently waiting...well some more patient than others...for this next installment. Sorry for the delay, wanted this to be "just right" as I begin to take some of the characters down alternate paths....
Renee, Shunshinecchica43 and Kellie.... I'm Baaaack! Hope it's worth the wait....and thanks for your..how shall we say..."gentle prodding"? Keep after me if you must...I do have much more to write about!
Iorhael...Thanks for hanging in there! I don't know how you keep so attentive to all your many stories...I'm in awe of one who can be such a dedicated writer!
Shire Baggins...Hang in there...Frodo will find his comfort...from many expected and unexpected places!
TTTurtle...Wow, thanks for the praise...I'm glad you like the story...yes there are twists and turns aren't there? Every good tale can take us to places we expect and places we don't!
MoonlightShadow...Thank you for following this story...please review when you have the time, otherwise just enjoy! I like to keep tension in the story...it maintains the excitement for me as a writer...I like to try to imagine what "I" would do if I were one of the characters
( presumptuous of me I know...but must get inside their little heads!).
BraellyraLeatherleaf....Yes, I pity Sam as well...but he is following his heart in his rescue of his friend....and I think there is no truer path that the one that love can lead you to!
FantasyFan...Frodo will find his rescuer yet...but who will it be? Yes, Sam has the heart and wit to best the three evil Ruffians...but does he alone have the strength? Keep "tuned"...I hope I can continue to keep you interested in the emotional ride that each Character is undertaking....thanks for your kind words and insightful praise...it keeps me searching for better ways to express the story!
Endymion2....Thanks so much for attention to this story...I am a huge fan of your works and praise from you is a star in my night I can assure you! Hang in there...we shall soon see Aragorn revert to his "ranger" side and the rescue is upon us...but who will it be? Sam has the heart...Qurag the strength..and Aragorn the knowledge......Where will Frodo find his comfort? Will his vision of Chrys have more meaning than just fever induced fantasy? We shall see my precious, we shall see!
The clatter of Brego's hoofs spoke to all in the King's path of their lord's urgency and anger. Aragorn was known to be a gentle horse master and the uneven echo of hoofs being driven too hard and too fast caught all in the camp by surprise. By the time Brego's foaming flanks came into view, most in the camp were standing at full alert, thinking that such haste from their liege lord meant only that the time for action was upon them. Men looked one to another, wordless their thoughts spread from one to another ...it is time...and more than one staunch warrior gripped their sword hilt and sneered, eyes hard with the desire to harm, to bring pain to those who sought to bring down the one their King held in such high regard. The tension in the camp mounted, a palatable entity, a pulsating energy that held all in its wake, they waited as their King dismounted with a limp body in his arms.
"Terren" Aragorn yelled as he dismounted and tossed the reins to a waiting guard without even adjusting his grip on the bundle in his arms "bring my satchel" he yelled and turning to a sentry added "water, heat water and bring it to my tent". He strode forward towards the coolness of his silken tent and flung the flap aside as he laid the form in his arms upon his bed, he continued to yell for Terren to attend him.
"My King" the sentry said respectfully "Terren is tending to the young lass...she is only now beginning to stir". Aragorn grunted his acknowledgment and gestured to the guard to bring him clean cloths from a nearby table. The King knelt down and began to gently peal layers of dust and blood stained clothing from the limp body before him. "I understand Terren's need to be with Rosetta, yet he is needed here as soon as he is able...see to it he receives that message" Aragorn said as he began to use the warmed water and cloths to wipe the grime from his patients face. As the guard left he noted the absent minded way in which his King tended the little one upon his bed and thought it strange that this man, this King who had infused them all with his passion for the Ringbearer, could be so calm in this moment of need.
Rumeil had heard the summon of the King and had gently nudged Terren to gain his attention as the elderly healer sought to bring comfort to the tiny girl beside him. "Terren" he whispered, never taking his eyes from Rosetta's dirt encrusted curls and pale face "the King has returned and seeks your aid...you must go," he said quietly as he carefully stroked a limp curl from his sister's face "go...I will watch to her now....go help the King in his efforts with Sir Frodo". Terren paused, clearly torn in his feelings of love and duty....but seeing the calm certainty of Rumeil's administrations stood to grab his bag and go help his King.
Sam found his feet stumbling with fatigue as he dismounted from Bill. "There ye go lad" he said to the docile pony "jest give yerself some rest, a few hours at best my Bill and we'll be off ta find our Master" he said with a gleam in his eyes. He tied the reins to a scrub pine at the base of another steep grade and staked out a spot of level ground in which to lay his bedroll. A few quick bites of Lembas and a drink from his water skin and he reclined into his blankets. He crooked his arm and stretching it out behind him laid his head upon it and stared into the velvety softness of the newly risen stars. His eyes saw the stars in constellations as Frodo had taught him to do and he wondered at a world where there was enough peace for people to name stars. He clenched his eyes closed and recalled a similar night, laying upon the freshly mown grasses of the summit of Bag End as he and Frodo had played at renaming the stars above....how they had laughed as they'd taken the names of constellations known for thousands of years by the fair folk and named them in the ever practical manner of the Shire, stars long blessed with grand names were soon reduced to phrases such as "Lotho's pimple", "Lobeila's Umbrella" or "Sandyman's arse".Sam smiled to think of their irreverent notions, he had himself known only a few Elvish words and so he'd been only able to offer up the alternative names for his Master to laugh at. Yet, as the night had worn on he'd gladly sat back and allowed Frodo to tell his tales of the great stars above them and had been in awe of the great knowledge which flowed so easily from the young master.
He sighed heavily, a sudden pain in his chest and a hardening lump in his throat the telltale sign that his tears, ever lurking just below the surface, were soon to emerge again. "Oh Frodo" he murmured, his voice husky with pain "please live to tell yer Sam tales of the stars once more...please be strong my friend...the Shire needs ya...." he wiped his arm across his eyes trying to stem the flow of tears that were stubbornly appearing. He rolled over to his side and curled into a disconsolate ball of hobbit as he looked once more, through the blur of his tears, to Earendil....the brightest star and whispered "I need you...don't go...don't leave me master" and he broke down at last, the shaking of his shoulders and his muffled sobs the only sound to break the stillness of the deep night.
Frodo woke to the harshness of a cruel slap, his head rocked violently to one side and then the other as a second blow followed. He opened his eyes wearily and felt himself pulled up roughly into a sitting position by hands that gripped his upper arms tightly. His head lolled about and his gaze remained unfocused as another slap was given. "Wake yerself Halfhigh...ye'll get yer rest when we tell ya it's time...now wake up damn ya." the harshness of the man's words were matched by the cruel wrenching open of the Hobbit's lips as the man's calloused hand grabbed Frodo's chin in one hand and his curls in the other. Frodo felt the abruptness of a waterskin jammed into his mouth, his dry and cracked lips bleeding from the sudden stress. He sputtered and choked as a fiery liquid flooded his mouth and traced a burning path to his stomach. He gagged and coughed as the familiar sensation of pain and tingling coursed through him and he fought to keep from retching what little remained in his stomach.
"Seems a might bit reluctant ta take his medicine eh boys?" Anborn said with a nasty grin that did not reach his cold grey eyes. Thad loosened his grip and stood up from where he'd knelt in front of the Hobbit. Frodo thought for a moment that his dizziness would overwhelm him and he waited to fall backwards only to find himself dragged to his feet from behind as Mendal wrapped his arm roughly about the slender chest of the Ringbearer and forced him to stand. Frodo hissed in agony at the pain to his swollen foot, the sudden reminder of his infected limb served to waken him at last and he gritted his teeth and struggled to stand with most of his weight upon the other leg. He lifted his bound arms and tried to unwrap Mendal from about him as the man pulled the hobbit into his embrace with a chuckle and an exaggerated groan of pleasure. "Now that's no way ta greet yer old love now is it?" Mendal laughed. Frodo felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he trembled involuntarily in his disgust and loathing. Anborn walked slowly and deliberately to kneel in front of the shaking hobbit "ye'll listen ta me ya miserable rat, ye'll listen good" he hissed as he ran his hand not so gently from the hobbits temple to rest carefully upon the delicate bones of the hobbit's collarbone. Frodo stared soundlessly at the frightening visage before him. Anborn's chipped and yellowed teeth were bared in a sneer and the rank odor of the ruffian before him nearly caused the hobbit to gag, but he continued to stare, now fully awake. The dry chuckle of the Ruffian before him grated upon the Hobbit's ears and he wished with all his heart that the cruelty that was certainly to be his to suffer was over, that he'd never again have to endure the cold derision of such foul creatures.
Anborn's chuckle faded as he made note of Frodo's growing strength and he reached his large hand to grip the Hobbits chin with crushing strength and suddenness. Frodo felt his head wrenched to one side and stared in horror at the specter before him. Thad was standing, feet straddling the inert form of Quarag, a bloodied branch raised high and sweat dripping from the exertion of his repeated blows. The Orc lay senseless from his beating, fresh rivulets of blood streaming from the exposed skin of his naked back, arms and legs tied spread eagled to the contorted roots of a series of wind gnarled trees.
As Frodo watched, Thad raised his arm once more and delivered a blow that sliced skin and jolted darkened flesh as a soft moan was heard in the still of the night. The hobbit was horrified by the display of senseless cruelty and he cried out his protest "No" he yelled and with a catch in his dry and raspy voice he pleaded "No!, bring no more pain to one who has suffered enough". Anborn laughed out loud at the Hobbit's feeble protests "suffered?" the man asked scathingly "he has yet to begin his suffering" he spat....and then, eyes alighting upon the fairness of the figure before him, he continued in a husky whisper "he'll suffer no more if you show the proper amount of affection my friend....if you show me all the love and fellowship you would give so easily to his dark scared flesh....to me" he finished as he ran his hand gently through the snarled curls of his small victim.
Frodo shuddered and clenched his eyes closed but a second before replying "I shall do all you ask if you will but guarantee his safety" he said staring in dismay at the dirt and blood covered form of his friend. Anborn cocked one eyebrow "Anything?" he questioned "Anything at all?".
Frodo swallowed the growing lump of fear and disgust in his throat, the Orc draught had strengthened his leg, so to had it given him a renewed sense of purpose and desire to see done that which was right for those he loved. "Anything" he spat in contempt "anything you wish...but you'll leave him be....offer no more harm to him" he swallowed and blinked back his tears as he sacrificed himself "I shall do as you ask" he whispered in defeat.
Terren sat upon the ground outside the King's richly brocaded and carpeted space, he held his head in his hands and pulled his knees up to his chest as he thought of how he would explain to Rumeil the needs of the King, and how very important the healing of this strange child had become. The elderly healer thought of the compassion and affection he'd seen in his King's eyes as he'd watched Terren and then the boy for any sign that a future of hope and health was soon to be theirs. The minutes and hours had dragged on and with each successive moment the hope upon Aragorn's face had waned and Terren knew that his King's faith in the fate of the Ringbearer was in some way tied to the cure and wellness of the unnamed child in their midst.
The elderly healer was shaken by the intensity of the King's hopes, he did not know what more he could do to heal the young one. Terren went over again in his mind all he'd tried thus far, it had been apparent that the lad had been poisoned and that the rough handling and brutal strength of the elements had taken their toll on the resilience of the young one. "If I knew but the name of the poison, if I knew what had befallen him during days past...I could help him better" he whispered to himself. He shook his head in frustration and slowly rose from his position beside the tent as he thought to himself 'tis to Rosetta and Rumeil I must look to know it would seem' as he shuffled off slowly towards his tent.
Aragorn sat motionless beside the cot upon which the young lad had been laid. He watched the slow and labored breathing, marking the time between breaths, finding his own held at times in anticipation. His mind was a whirl with his agonizing blame and self doubt, he knew now that he had chosen the wrong path. His desire to serve the people as a King, his need to show prudence and clear rationale thought had not served the ends to which he now found himself. He sighed heavily and rubbed his hand gently upon the child's face, noting that there was not as of yet any sign of fever, and he was glad to know that at least he could keep the child comfortable. He wondered idly if there were anyone thinking of the comfort of the Ringbearer, an image of Dalmers last messenger came to mind and he frowned at the notion of any man of that ilk wanting to help the Hobbit. He buried his face in his hands, afraid for his friend, fearing that the cruelty of the Hobbits captors would allow for nothing less than days of pain and nights filled with painful humiliation. His mind felt leaden, his will infused with despair and guilt for all that he wished he'd done... had he only searched for Frodo himself, sent more troops with Merry and Pippin, enlisted the aid of Elrond...had he only acted as the Ranger he'd once been, not the King he was trying to be. He moaned with the pain of his self discovery and preyed to the Valar that a way would be found to ease Frodo's torment, that somehow the beleaguered Hobbit would find comfort to sustain him until he..he found the strength to be the Ranger he once was. The night wore on and somewhere in the endless hours of pain, guilt and soul searching....a new plan began to form.
Frodo crawled the last few feet to Quarags side, the dust and rocks of the cooled desert ground slowing his pace as he worked his way along the uneven terrain slowly and carefully as he strained to keep the noise of his movements to a minimum. He paused a moment to catch his breath and to wipe a stray tear from his bruised face as an image of his last hours came unbidden before him and he had to stifle a sob that threatened to proclaim his misery to the sleeping ruffians. They had done all in their power to belittle, shame and defile him...his body screamed with the agony of their rough handling while his spirit cowered beneath the weight of his guilt. He'd been forced to participate in their foul games, had been made to serve them, to answer their every whim and to submit willingly to their lust. For these last hours of hell, these moments of humiliation and the images in his mind of unending pain, he was to be given until sunrise. He forced himself to continue crawling, pushing his self loathing aside as he sought to travel the few more feet he needed to cover to get to Qurag. 'I have only a few short hours' he thought to himself "must...get...to him" he whispered under his breath as he covered the last pain wracked inches to collapse beside the bound form of his friend and protector.
The hobbit, now trembling from fatigue, pain and the force of his emotions curled close to the Orc and put his head gently upon the massive scared shoulder, trying to avoid bringing additional hurt to either of them in the process. He snuggled in there a moment and using a corner of his shirt attempted to wipe the grime and blood from the blunt features of the Orc beside him. "Qurag" he whispered urgently "Qurag, you must wake...I've not much time...we must talk" he pleaded. The body beside him moaned thickly and Frodo hastened to quiet him "Shh Qurag...do not talk my friend, only listen....please you must listen." The hobbit leaned up on one elbow to better view the large face just beginning to become more visible in the gradually growing light of the coming dawn. He looked down to see large brown eyes, eyes swollen from heat and the force of his beatings, eyes staring sadly at him. Frodo turned away, unable to bear the look of sadness and pity that dwell in the large dark eyes beneath him "Qurag" he whispered in a voice broken with pain and fear "Qurag, how is it with you?" he asked softly.
Dark brown eyes, eyes rimmed with pain and exhaustion, were flooded with pity and Frodo's lip quivered as he saw the emotion that this Orc shared, an empathetic bond was drawn between them as their ties of friendship drew even tighter. "Men forced sport on you little one...not your choice" Qurag whispered. Frodo's eyes filled with tears at the bluntness of the Orc's message and he turned his face away in shame as he felt his body begin to tremble. Qurag, with a soft moan, tried to turn from his bonds to comfort the Hobbit, finding that his ties would allow him no freedom. Frodo grimaced as he saw out of the corner of his eyes the Orc's struggle. The Hobbit bit his lip to still his own pain and turned to help untie the binds that lay upon the dark scarred wrists of his friend. Qurag lay without moving and watched the pale and tear marked cheeks of the Ringbearer. As Frodo finished his task and sought to give the Orc some distance, he felt his wrist suddenly grasped as he was pulled into an embrace that enveloped his body in one large swoop of sweat and blood stained arms. "Shh little friend" Qurag whispered as he felt the hobbit begin to shudder in his attempts to restrain his tears "let go pain...keep no hold on their evil" he said strongly.
Frodo wanted suddenly, more than anything, to let loose a torrent of tears, to cry and scream and curse the cruel ways of men, yet he bit back his tears and restrained himself. There was just too much to say and too little time to be wasted on tears. He gently pushed Qurag from him and back to a space where once more he could lie beside him. This time Frodo lay upon his side and curled into the space left near the Orc's stomach. He lifted his wide blue eyes to see the pain and loss reflected back at him and he carefully lifted a finger to touch a deep cut upon Qurag's muscled side "they are animals" he said quietly as Qurag winced. He continued "They Qurag, they are the animals...they are the beasts, the ones who give so freely of pain and take so deeply of honor and self respect." The hobbit locked eyes with the Orc, needing his message to penetrate "They are the evil in this world Qurag, not you..." he paused and lifted a small hand to caress the Orc's bruised and bloodied cheek "your goodness is trapped in a place where no one will look for it my friend, do not let the world judge you by the actions of your kind" he ran his hand down to Qurag's chest, careful to avoid the worst of his injuries "you have the heart of a hero Qurag...the children will need you, they will need you to be strong and good for them..." .Qurag opened his mouth to speak but Frodo shook his head and held up his hand, willing the Orc to remain quiet and Qurag waited. Frodo sighed heavily and looked to the sun just beginning to show upon the horizon "they will come for me soon, I have only a few more moments...the time I have with your was dearly bartered for...so it is your turn to listen, alright?" he asked, blue eyes wavering within a pool of unshed tears. The Orc tightened his lips and nodded, his eyes never leaving the blue pools before him. Frodo smiled sadly and reached to squeeze Qurag's hand "They will take me to the Corsairs and I know that the Orc draughts they give to sustain me will work only as long as I will it to be so...there is little time left for me and they have promised to leave you here, tied as you were before, but I will refasten your binds in a loser fashion so that you can escape, I know you can do this Qurag...you must find the King. You must find the King and bring help to the children trapped in the mine." Frodo looked intently in the Orc's eyes "please tell me you will do this Qurag, I must have your promise, I will find no rest if the children are not safe." Qurag nodded slowly and said "I will find your children Little Friend...I will help them be safe and good". Frodo smiled, a pain laced smile and lifted the Orc's hand to his lips for a brief gesture of warmth and brotherhood as he held it clasped to his dirt and blood smeared face. "Thank you my friend" he whispered and then moved carefully and quietly to re-tie the thongs that bound the Orc to the tree roots about them.
As his weary fingers finished ting the last knot, a sudden surly voice was heard "say yer 'good-byes' Little man...we've got some new friends ye'll be jest dyin' ta get ta know" Thad snorted his laughing appreciation of his own wit as Frodo was roughly grabbed about the waist and lifted away from the now struggling form of Qurag. The Orc could feel the looseness of his binds, and longed to break free to save his friend, but knew he'd have to be careful in his actions for he was not strong enough to take on the three men. Yet, he could not let Frodo be taken without a show of protest and he felt his anger grow as he watched the grimace of pain which crossed the pale Ringbearer's face as he was tossed to the man called Mendal. He writhed against the thongs that bound him and gave a primal bellow of hatred and pain that stopped Thad in his tracks.
Qurag felt the heavy booted foot of the surly man slam into his side again and again as he grunted in his efforts "ye'll shut yerself now" Thad said menacingly. After a few more kicks for good measure Frodo's cries and his pleading for Thad to stop brought the attention of Anborn, who'd been fastening the last of his gear to his horse saddle. The leader of the men lifted his head from his task in irritation and shouted "We're expected to the point in the next day's ride Thad....leave him, he'll soon have no one ta scream to but the vultures who rend his flesh, now let's go." Thad spat upon Qurag's now still form and with one last kick, turned to join the others.
The Orc's last view of Frodo was of red rimmed wide blue eyes, and pale bruised cheeks turned to him from the his place before Mendal. The Hobbit's tired voice, raised above the clatter of the horses hooves came to him through the dust of their departure "remember...remember your promise" was his anguished cry. Then with a last pleading look Frodo was gone and the Orc was left with nothing but the sound of distant hooves and the fuel of his hatred as he began to work his loosened thongs under the scrutiny of the carrion feeders who circled above.