Faces of War

Chapter 35: Commanding

Disclaimer: Love these characters...too bad they're not mine...all Hail the the creativity of the word wizard JRR Tolkien.

MoonlightShadow....thanks for your kind words....I can only imagine how hard it must have been for Aragorn to transition from his life of solitude to his life as King.....

Renee...Frodo is a mess...no doubt he could use some rescuing soon....very soon....for Anborn will seek to take one last thing from the weary hobbit!

BraellyraLeatherleaf...Sorry for the wait...major "worm" issue with my internet hook up and was unable to write for two weeks...but I'm back and thanks for the compliments!

endymion2...sorry I think I crossed your name with "Elenya"...another fanfic writer....you review so beautifully...why don't you take a stab at this "writing thing"? Yes, I am taking out some of my frustrations about the cruelty of the world within the pages of this story...just when I think things can't get any worse...they do and so my story continues...very therapeutic!

Shire Baggins...Yikes...a year? I am embarrassed at my tardiness...I had hoped to have this done so I could begin to post the first story in this trilogy "River of Tears" (early life of orphan Frodo)...I shall just have to write faster!

Iorhael....Thanks for being such a loyal reader and reviewer Iorhael...I'm just happy you're still with me after all this time!

TTTurtle....I am sorry to have kept you waiting...many techno problems with worms trying to eat my internet ( kinda like the dog ate my homework excuse)...but I'm back and thanks for reviewing!

The glow of the rising sun cast a warmth about the stillness of the camp, red and pink and soft peach hues meandered across the sky and touched upon the distant mountains as Terren looked from the flap of his tent. A soft smile played at the corner of his lips as he slowly craned his neck and looked over his shoulder to the picture of bliss behind him. The newly washed golden curls, the pouty lips opened with the quiver of dream driven murmurings their only movement, the sight of Rumeil wrapped so tightly about his sister....these sights brought him great joy and he smiled his contentment. As the night was about to give up it's dominion he'd seen a change in this dearest of children, her breathing had eased, her fever had broken and her heart had settled to a steady rhythm. He knew it would be only hours before she would awaken again. He stepped back from the entry of the tent and walked slowly, never taking his eyes from his patient, to stand beside them. He smiled, Rumeil had been unable at first to accept the good news, had pulled back and stood anxiously at the door of the tent, but with Terren's reassurance his confidence grew and as one by one symptoms of pain and debilitation disappeared from the beloved face of his sister, Rumeil's face became a study in wonder. The healer walked next to the small cot, now amply covered with the small idols of his heart, and he reached down to brush a stray curl from his girls face. He hesitated a bit in his motion 'my girl' he found himself thinking and he furrowed his brow in consternation for she was not his girl, nor were Rumeil or Kylos his sons. Terren sat back and stared at the youngsters, his thoughts swirled and slowly an idea began to take shape.

A sudden swish of fabric and a rush of cooler air alerted Terren to the entry of another to the tent. He stood in dismay at the sight of his King and hastily dropped his chin to his chest in a gesture of respect. Aragorn, all business as he entered the tent caught the motion of the healer and he paused in his steps to the cot to place a hand on Terren's shoulder " you owe me no such gesture Terren" he said sternly and then he frowned to himself as he continued "I am not sure I have been worthy of it as your King". Terren opened his mouth to protest and Aragorn held up a hand to forestall the elderly healer's words "not now my friend, it is of other matters that I must speak with you." Terren nodded and waited for his Kings words.

Aragorn brushed past Terren and knelt on the floor beside the cot in time to see Rosetta begin to stir, he turned back to fix Terren in his gaze "how does she fare? Will she awaken soon?" he asked quietly. Terren came forward and crossing to the other side of the cot, closer to Rumeil, he smiled and nodded "aye my Lord, her fever is broken and she has taken some water and nourishment....I expect that she shall waken anytime." He paused a moment to sooth a wayward lock of Rumeil's hair "as will he." At the touch of Terren's hand Rumeil began to waken, his eyes fluttered open uncertainly and for a moment it was clear that the lad was unsure of his whereabouts. A wiggle beside him reminded him and he tightened his grasp around his sister's waist, his reflexive motion earned him a breathy whine "stop squeezing me Rumeil, I can scarce breathe" Rosetta mumbled without opening her eyes.

Rumeil, at the sound of his sisters tiny voice, found himself wide awake as he leaned over to kiss her face with great exuberance "Oh Rosetta...oh..oh yer going' ta be jest fine now...oh stars Terren she's goin' ta be alright" he said with wonder in his voice and a tear in his eye, as he continued to alternately kiss her face and stroke her cheek gently. The King smiled with all reserve forgotten as Rosetta groggily pushed Rumeil away with a grumpy "stop yer slobberin' Rumeil." causing those about her to share a genuine laugh.

With the sound of laughter as her guide, Rosetta finally opened her eyes and found herself staring into the wisest and kindest eyes she'd ever seen. She stared but a moment as Aragorn reached to brush a curl from her face "Welcome back Princess" he whispered "you've been missed little one." Rossetta looked from Aragorn to Terren and over to Rumeil...then back to Aragorn again and her serious face broke into a smile as she said "We are safe then...just as Sir Frodo promised....the bad men are gone, they are finally gone" she said in awe and then she reached to grab Aragorns hand "take me to my Sir Frodo...he'll be needin' his Princess" she said her blue eyes wide with the import of her message. Aragorn frowned but a moment and then took her little hand in both of his as he said "I can not take you to the Ringbearer yet my child, he is still held by the bad men, but I give you my word that together we will find him". Aragorn paused to note the tears arising in her deep blue eyes and he carefully cupped her chin in his hand as he looked deep into her fears "you will be brave, for that is I'm certain what Sir Frodo would ask of his Princess." She took a deep breath and wiped a hand across her eyes and nodded slowly as Aragorn continued "that's a girl, now why don't you tell me of what you and the Ringbearer have done over the past days...for I have missed my friend and his stories."

Sam started awake, a crushing pain in his chest and rapid beating of his heart the physical reminder of his nightmare driven panic. He panted heavily and wiped the sweat from his brow as he tried to shake off the affects of this latest nightmare, the images were still with him however and he stumbled to his feet to try and walk off his fear. His steps brought no relief and as he neared the spot where he'd tethered Bill he was struck with an image so vivid he gasped out loud. In his mind he saw a high bluff that fell away to a vast river many hundreds of feet down. Upon the bluff, in the shimmering mists of early morning's sunrise a figure was revealed to him. A dark haired shape, small of limb and fair of face was trembling in the grip of a large coarse looking man, a man with dark locks and hard grey eyes. The wide blue eyes of the Hobbit in the mans grasp were vacant and dull, their expression changed not at all, even as the man backhanded him viciously over and over again. The silent snapping backing forth of the Hobbit's head drove the man to a frenzy and with a yowl of rage he grabbed the small figure by his neck , strode angrily to the edge of the bluff until, holding the Hobbit above the yawning expanse of death below and with a malicious sneer and one last shake, dropped him.

The sandy haired Hobbit felt a pain in his heart as he realized that his nightmares had transcended the cover of darkness and the sanctity of his sleep to invade his waking hours, a nightmare no longer were these images and he cursed his stupidity as he ran the remaining feet to Bill and clumsily untied the slender elven rope that held him. "A vision" he mumbled ' 'tis surely a vision of what's ta happen...if it tain't happened already' he thought frantically as he scrambled atop Bill and followed his heart. The ground flew under him and Sam urged the pony on until the foaming sweat off of Bill's flanks and the huffing sound of the the pony's breath brought him at long last back to his senses and he slowed the exhausted pony to a walk. The racing of the wind, or perhaps the endless pain in his heart had brought a flood of tears to his eyes and he could barely see where Bill walked so consumed was he by his fears. He forced himself to cease his tears "twon't get him back, mores the fool you are Samwise Gamgee" he said to himself and he wiped his coarse linen shirt sleeve across his eyes. Heartsick and feeling more scared than he ever had, even during the dreaded days of Mordor, Sam and his stalwart Bill marched steadily across the barren gullies and rocky plains of Gondor, heading ever onward as he followed his images to fulfill his own quest, the rescue of his childhood friend and hero.

Faramir, having gone already to seek Aragorn at the royal tent, and having found him absent, followed his instincts and soon found himself at the tent of Terren the healer. Pausing a moment to quietly ask permission to enter, the young Steward of Gondor swept open the tent flap and looked upon the first smile he'd seen on his King's face in many a day. Aragorn was sitting and listening to the tales told by Rosetta of Frodo and the children, Faramir paused to watch the genuine warmth, admiration and love that his King bore for the Ringbearer flit across his face as the fair haired child's words wove a spell of peace about the room. Faramir thought back to his last moments with Frodo in Ithilien, the torment the ranger had felt would surely guide the steps of the gentle Hobbit had not registered in his wide blue eyes and he remembered feeling in awe of the courage and resolute demeanor the tiny creature had possessed. He listened a moment to Rosetta's words and closed his eyes trying to envision the Frodo that she and the children had grown to love..." it was his teachin' of Kylos...the way he made all of us feel, that no matter the evil of those about us, no matter how scared we were or how hungry we got...well he was there for us" she said her eyes lost in a memory as she paused and then turned to take the King's hand shyly in hers "he believed in us...." The petite waif smiled a dreamy expression of her love and continued...."and what 'twere even more important was that he made all 'o us begin to think that after all the bad that had happened, after all that had pained us from the great war, after all the bad men asked of us, that we could believe in ourselves if we held on ta our hope...". Faramir felt a tear come to his eye and was surprised at the sudden shudder of emotion that passed through him as he watched his King kiss the tiny hand encased in his larger one.

Faramir, while hating to distract Aragorn from his thoughts, needed to speak and he softly cleared his throat to gain the attention of the King. Aragorn looked up from Rosetta, his brow furrowed in concern as his attention was drawn to his Steward "yes Faramir?" he said quietly, letting loose the small hand in his. "Sire, the Orc grows restless, the men are having some difficulty restraining him, they fear that in his anger he may get lose, he is yelling for..." Faramir paused and tilted his head towards the slight child on the cot before continuing...."would you have us increase his bonds or perhaps have Terren prepare a calming sleeping draught?" Before Aragorn could answer Rosetta struggled to sit up as Rumeil, still lying beside her, tried to quiet his Sister's protests " What bonds? Why have you tied Durzak?" she cried. Aragorn looked startled by her protests "Rosetta, calm yourself ....you must not worry for he will not hurt you again." His voice lowered to shush and sooth what fears she'd dealt with at the hands of the Orc. She shook her head and looked about the room with confusion in her eyes "he has not hurt me...he and Qurag rescued us...they got us from the cave as it collapsed in the explosion." Aragorn and Terren managed to calm the agitated child and gradually the tale was told; the strength of the Orcs in the cave in, the frightening trek through the dark underground, Frodo's attempts to hide his discomfort and the pain of the hot march in the desert. A tale of bravery, courage and sacrifice came from the lips of the tiny lass and Faramir listened with growing suspicion and apprehension as he watched Aragorn take in the tale. "You must take me to him King Aragorn, he will be afraid for me and we need to go find Sir Frodo and Qurag" she said matter of factly as she began to swing her nightshirt clad lags aver the side of the cot. Rumeil grabbed her about the waist and urged her to lie back down "jest you wait little Rosie...the King will take care of this matter, and ya need yer rest after all yer trials" the pale boy looked hopefully to the face of the King, wanting reassurance that his sister's cause would be attended to.

The Steward stiffened, "Sire...the Orc is dangerous, he is a trained killer and must be controlled" he said objecting to the thoughts he imagined were running through the King's mind.

Aragorn stared at his trusted Steward, everything in his past led him to believe in his friend's words, he himself had seen the atrocities visited upon humanity at the hands of these beasts, his Kingdom had suffered greatly at the hands of these monsters and he felt his heart harden with the images of death and innocent slaughter that came to his mind as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply his anger. He paused but a moment, lost in his visions of burning farms, maimed citizens and battlefields filled with the death cries of man and beast alike, then he felt the flutter of tiny arms entwining themselves about his neck and he opened his eyes to find himself looking face to face with the fair haired child of the Ringbearer's visions. He frowned and furrowed his brow in confusion and denial as he listened to the child's pleas. "Please King Aragorn" she whispered looking deeply through his jaded vision of the world "he's my friend...he saved Sir Frodo and me...why can you not like him?" she asked and then added "Durzak did not hurt Sir Frodo...he helped us..he left his friend to help me...why can you not try to like him?".

Faramir clenched his fist "Sire, he is a beast...an animal by nature, one who would see the world of men destroyed...he can not be trusted" he hissed, eyes snapping in anger. Aragorn looked from one face to another, the innocence of youth balanced against the experience of war and he carefully disentangled Rosetta's arms from about his neck and wordlessly got up, standing silently a moment he clasped his hands behind his back and with a softened tone and sad demeanor said "I will think upon this" and looking with great intensity from one trusted face to another face filled with trusting he quietly left the tent. Faramir, his heart filled with hate for those that had brought ruin to his kingdom and death to those he loved turned to the fair haired child now sitting dejectedly within the confines of her brothers arms and said " be careful who you choose to trust little one" and he followed his King out into the growing light of the day.

The heat of the day was beginning to be felt as Frodo roused himself once more from his stuporous state of semi-consciousness, his head felt too heavy for his sore neck to lift, his ribs ached and every breath was a shallow reminder of his experience in the mine, his hands, chafed by the ropes which bound him to the horses's saddle, were numb from lack of circulation and his leg, which bounced upon the horse's side with each jarring step, was a growing agony. He gasped in pain as the horse hit a rough section of the path, immediately regretting his vocalization for now the man behind him gave his waist a tight squeeze to ensure his wakefulness and the Hobbit's quickly indrawn breath and exclamation of pain served only to make his captors laugh at his discomfort. "Now, now my sweet....don't ye go noddin' off again....ye must be lonely in yer dreams....let me keep ya company..." Frodo recognized the leering voice and manner of Mendal and he shuddered as he felt his body groped roughly from behind. Mendal bent and rubbing his scruffy face upon the Hobbit's smooth cheek ran his tongue around the tips of his pointed ears. He summoned his strength and using his good foot tried to deliver a kick to the man's knee. The glancing blow succeeded only in angering the man and Frodo felt his injured ribs and lash torn back squeezed violently as the man's other hand transferred the reins to the hand about the Hobbit's waist. His shirt was abruptly ripped open in the front as Mendal's knife wielding hand came up under his shirt to stop at the bottom of his ear. The man, his voice hissing in anger and lust filled his ear as the knife traced a path from ear to belly button in a thin tracing of pain and blood "ye'll get what yer owed fer that halfhigh, just you wait, payment's only put off" he whispered harshly and he quickly brought the knife around to the Hobbit's back as he found a pattern of cris crossed lash marks and delighted in scraping the knife across the scabbed over weals. Frodo groaned in pain and felt his stomach lurch at the reminder of his past torments as he felt the dampening of his shirt from newly re-opened wounds. Mendal laughed and slid the knife back to it's saddle casing as he flicked the hobbit's ear with his large tongue. Frodo felt a reminder of Mendals promise of future torments poke into his backside and a tear came to his eye as Mendal caressed his bruised and filthy chest with one hand while guiding the plodding steps of his horse with his other. They rode along in the growing heat of the day, the shame and helplessness of his position adding to the depth of his despair Frodo trembled and wept inside the tattered remnants of his once proud spirit.

Anborn watched carefully the actions of the Hobbit, he feared that his prize would soon be lost as he saw the lethargy and despair which sought to overcome the halfhigh. He smiled at the small sign of spirit that yet remained in the small ailing body of the Ringbearer as Frodo fought the hands of his captor, but he knew that time was running out. 'Soon' he thought to himself as he viewed Mendals cruelty 'soon you will choose the way of Numenor....a choice I can not allow you to have'. Anborn watched the lustful attentions visited upon the frail halfling and he snorted his contempt, soon the uppity halfhigh would have a life filled with degradation and pain...and his job was to ensure that his captive was delivered alive into the hands of the Corsair captain that was soon to meet them. 'It's time' he thought as his hand reached to pat the the precious substance contained in his saddlebag and he signaled the others to halt as he reached for the opiates given him by the Corsair messenger.

Sam shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun with one hand while holding Bills reins with the other and he looked to the barren landscape before him. He was giving Bill a well earned rest from his weight and he pulled hard upon the reins as he did his best to help the weary pony up the slippery shale hill. Sweat ran down his neck and his eyes burned from the relentless glare of the sun as he continued to doggedly head towards what he thought was the direction of the river, he knew from his previous night's dreams and his gradually increasing visions that the river was important. He stopped a moment and shook his head hoping to clear his vision, it seemed to his weary mind that his eyes might be playing tricks on him, but there was something moving on up ahead. He gathered the reins in both hands and urged Bill on at a faster pace and as he crested the next hill his heart froze in fear, a vision of pain and a memory of evil assaulted him as he looked upon the distant form of a dark skinned and scantily glad Orc stumbling through the scrub brush of the harsh land before him. He snarled in anger and hatred, wanting nothing more than to finish off this remnant of Sauron's evil, he reached to his side to draw Sting from it's sheath. His hand clenched in hatred about it's hilt he made ready to charge, his fear for his master, his helplessness and the vastness of his despair flooded through him and he wanted only to bring pain to those who had harmed so many. Taking a deep breath as tears of hate and agony filled his unblinking eyes he looked to the reflecting rays of the sun that caught him of a sudden in the face as they bounced from Sting's shiny surface and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. The sword that had been the harbinger of ill deeds to come as it had shown it's true colors during the quest, shone back at him, clear and silver in the glare of the full sun above. Sam's arm slowly dropped and he shook his head in confusion as his muddled brain tried to take in this latest fact, "blue" he thought " where is the blue light of hatred that shone forth in days past?". Before his mind could answer his heart's question he found his body moving, slowly moving in Hobbit fashion, feet soundless against the brush and dry scrub grasses as he followed the evil and repulsive creature with hatred festering within him.