Chapter 37: Rescuing
Disclaimer: All rights of character ownership belong to JRR Tolkien....he is a great guy for letting us all borrow from his genius!
Endymion2...hope you have a lovely holiday and thanks for reading! Yes, the Corsair learns his lesson a little late I'm afraid! He may lose his prize, but will he himself get away?
BraellyraLeatherleaf...Can I possibly make your day twice in one week? I certainly hope so!
Our two heros ( or will there be more?) Are on a fast track to a rescue....What state will Frodo be in when he is found? And to what lengths will they have to go to keep the ringbearer with them? You shall see, oh yes, you shall see...
Kellie....oops, didn't mean to be "short" with you in my reply...after all, you are very kind to review at all and what kind of a writer would I be if I could n't accept criticisms or suggestions?
Yes, I do get intense at times....I guess I see the pain of body,spirit and pride symbolic of the unjustness of the world....that sometimes those wanting to help most, with the most heart are the ones who are "trampled" on since the world views them as soft or weak....we all know our Hobbit is neither soft nor weak but there are those who will take advantage of this small body despite his strength of mind and will. A warning....this is also an "intense" chapter...some explicit content....written purely to show the depths to which the forces of evil have brought Frodo....to the verge of madness...the next few chapters will show the growing mistrust Sam develops for the world of Men, the strength of those small and the nobility of spirit that lurks where it is least looked for....enjoy!
TTTurtle....I appreciate you comments and your dedication to this story.....I have many ideas and have organized and re-organized them yet each time I sit down to write I find that the story has a heart of it's own and it takes me places, as it takes you....one chapter at a time! Yes I will continue to write, it is ever so much better than watching TV!
Warning...this chapter brings our diminutive hero to a new "low"....his road to recovery can not begin until he has hit the depths of his despair....so keep reading, but be warned...it may be "intense"!
The night air was chill and with little brush about the barren terrain to soften the motions of the breeze, the cool air was piercing . Sam watched the flickering flames of the fire, each puff of wind made the flames dance first to one side, then another. A particularly chill breeze fanned the flames and he felt himself shiver. As he mechanically added another stick to the fire he looked over at his sleeping companion. The muscled legs and arms were pulled into his chest and he lay sleeping like a child in the comfort and snugness of their bed.'Like ta Mr. Frodo's way of sleeping that is' the exhausted hobbit thought as he contemplated the dance of the flames before him. Sam, swallowed the lump of fear and misery in his throat and tried to recall happier times, for he couldn't bear to think of his Frodo alone and in pain on this chill night. He leaned back against the protective backdrop of the boulder and closed his eyes. He thought of Frodo, the charming Frodo of little worry and bright tales, the wise Frodo who spent hours lost in his books and wrote fanciful tales that enraptured the wee ones of the village. He found himself smiling, the thought of Frodo with hobbitlings at his feet brought a warm and peaceful feeling to the troubled servant. He grabbed that image and willed it to grow within him, seeking comfort in his storm of pain and fear. He saw a serious Frodo lad leading a band of stick wielding adventurers into the cellars of Bag End on yet another journey to capture Smaug, a smiling Frodo tween down on one knee soothing a crying lad with a skinned elbow, a gaily laughing young Master Frodo arms wrapped about his cousins shoulders listening to one of their many scrapes, a pale faced and sweating Frodo whose pain was evident in every step struggling to walk after his accident, a loving and gentle Mr. Frodo pledging his troth to the light of his life beneath his favorite Willow. Sam felt the lump in his throat growing as he fought back his sadness and despair, 'Oh Mr. Frodo, why you? Why 'tis it your lot ta bear such pain? Can I not take some for ya ...I would gladly take it all if I could Master' he thought with a heavy sigh. He clenched his eyes closed tighter and lay down upon his side, praying for the peace of sleep to sooth his uneasy mind.
A moment later he felt a cool calloused hand cover his mouth and his eyes flew open in surprise to see Qurag kneeling beside him "shh " he gestured soundlessly to Sam and then pointed to the approaching shadows beside the boulder. Sam's eyes opened wide in fear and he eyed the security of Sting leaning against the far rock face. Qurag motioned Sam to stay down, to pretend to sleep and he crept around the other side of the boulder. Sam watched through the crack of barely opened eyes as the shadow grew closer and waited to be discovered. A sudden crash and a grunt of pain exploded into the silence of the night. Sam scuttled back to the rock face to reach for Sting as two bodies rolled into view. Qurag was struggling to subdue a man garbed as a ranger with dark hair and a grey cloak. Sam popped quickly to his feet and ran to the fray "no Qurag, it 'tis the King....Strider....no this Orc 'tis friend not foe...." As Sam yelled he struggled to pull the enraged Orc off of the flailing form of the King. He grabbed hold of Qurag's hair and yanked, only to be brushed aside and he tried again "stop it, stop it I tell ya..." he grabbed sting and brought it down with a yowl, embedding it in the ground within an inch of the Kings face as Qurag slowly realized the body beneath him was not struggling he stopped and rolled away. The three of them stared at one another across the dying embers of the fire " yer help would be most useful Strider fighten' thems that need fighten" Sam said with a gleam in his eye and hands firmly crossed before him "not us Sir, we're on your side". The sandy haired hobbit smiled and ran to throw his arms about the panting and disheveled King upon the ground.
Aragorn laughed and tousled Sam's fifthly hair then putting both hands upon his shoulders held the hobbit away to see his face "Sam" he said "it is good to see you my friend." He quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head in the direction of the dust covered Qurag "will you introduce me to your friend?" Sam blushed and mumbled his apologies and helping his King to sit up he made the introductions. Qurag looked Aragorn over warily, he had been given no reason to trust the world of men, and was slow to warm up to him. Aragorn, seeing the suspicion upon Qurag's face made haste to thank the Orc " Qurag, my Kingdom is indebted to you for all you've done to help the Ringbearer ". Qurag nodded "Little one brave" he grunted " I see his spirit". Aragorn nodded "then that shall be our bond Qurag, for I too see and hold dear this spirit.". Sam sensing the dissipating tension sought to get the two of them to sit and share their stories about the fire that he'd been busy tending as they'd exchanged their first words.
The three of them sat around the fire and listened to one another's tales. Aragorn explained that Durzak was scouting up ahead, that the tracker had caught a scent of something that concerned him and he was circling back to investigate. "I did not expect such a greeting or I would have waited and brought your companion with me" he said with a faint smile in Qurag's direction. The Orc was filled with questions and soon Aragorn was explaining all that had happened at camp and why he was out traversing the desert land with only the lone Orc for company.
As Aragorn was finishing his explanation a slight rustling could be heard and Durzak rounded the boulder. With soft grunt he came to Qurags place, their eyes locked and held, Qurag clasped his fellow Orc upon the shoulder, the contact of their eyes speaking all that words could not then letting his hand drop, he motioned for Durzak to squat beside him and began to describe the events that had happened. Aragorn listened with a stony face, yet inside his emotions were in turmoil. He glanced sideways to watch the pitted and scarred dark skinned figure beside him. The Orc's muscles were lean, strong and tense, the appearance of a cat ready to spring as he squatted by the fire. Aragorn wondered that such bravery could exist in the creatures he'd grown so to despise. Yet, as Qurag's tales continued and Aragorn heard of Frodo's torment at the hands of the men who held him, he felt a growing hatred for the people of his own race and did not blame the Orc for his suspicions. He looked to Sam's face during Qurag's tale and felt his hand reach to grab the young Hobbit and pull him into a loose embrace as Qurag told of how Frodo had bartered for Qurag's life. Sam, pale and trembling, fought to master his tears 'he's not needin' yer tears you ninnyhammer' he told himself 'he needs ya to be strong Samwise....be strong, I can do that for you Mr. Frodo, I can' he vowed to himself. Aragorn felt Sams posture stiffen and watched as his face set into a mask of hatred and stoic understanding.
As their tales were finished, the sun began to make it's way up, the rosy hues of morning slowly spreading across the sky. Aragorn looked to the sunrise and said "this day we rescue our friend, no more will we allow the evil of men to hold sway over the spirit and life of Frodo Baggins." He gestured for all to come closer and drew a rough map upon the ground at their feet. Sam watched as Aragorn sketched distant mountain bluffs, a winding river and an expanse of gradually changing desert terrain in the dirt at his feet. "This is the spot, here on the River where we sent the last of the three corsair ships." he said making an 'x' on his map, and here is the bluff from which the bend of the river and water in many miles both west and east can be seen" he added as he tapped the spot with stick thoughtfully. He turned to Qurag "How many men did Anborn have when last you saw him?" The Orc snarled as he replied "There are three, not big number, sick with evil hearts, ready to hurt the little one for sport." Aragorn pursed his lips, shook his head sadly and stood to walk around the boulder. The other three got up from their spots by the map to follow the King. Aragorn pointed west "that is our path Qurag, their numbers may not be great, but if they are camped where I predict them to be, it will not be possible to sneak up on them over the usual terrain." Sam was growing impatient "well, we'll not get the job done jest talking it through, 'tis the job first started that 'tis fastest done is what the Gaffer always said" he said with a firm set to his lips and a hardness in his eyes. Aragorn turned to place a comforting hand upon the hobbit's shoulder "your Gaffer is a wise soul Sam, let's be off then" and so saying he helped Sam clamber upon Bregos broad back and climbed to the saddle behind him. Aragorn noted the slight shaking of Sam's hands upon the pommel of the saddle and he wrapped a protective arm about him "You shall be safe Sam, I'll not let Brego give you need for fear my friend." Sam nodded solemnly and tried to stop the trembling in his limbs " 'tis grateful I am to ya Sir,but it is not fer me I am fearful if you catch my meaning ".
Aragorn wrapped his arm more tightly about the Ringbearer's friend and servant and they set off across the bleak landscape.
Frodo lay drenched in the sweat of fever, his mind lost to the numbness of the opiates, he felt little pain, just a sense of disconnectedness. He seemed to watch as if from a distance, as if he traveled through his mind outside his body as he sensed all that happened to him. He was only dimly aware of Anborns forcing more of the sickening sweet paste into his mouth, of Thad 's impatience as his stupor made even the simplest task of swallowing water impossible, of Mendals attempts to force him to eat and anger when he vomited what little they did manage to get him to swallow. He lay in dirt and filth, flies buzzed about him and ants crawled upon him as his mind gradually became as useless as the rest of his body had become. He was empty, no spirit, no feelings of pain or notions of disgust, he was a shell who only noticed the waves of stupor brought about by the opiates. He began to cling to his lethargy and the bleakness of his spirit, to long for the heightened moments of peace and nothingness brought about by the death flower, he noted only the passing of time as his doses were given to him.
Anborn watched with a smile as he witnessed the transformation of his prisoner. No longer did the Hobbit fight off his attempts to wrench open his jaw to force the paste upon his tongue, now the halfhigh opened his mouth willingly, eagerly it seemed to the eyes of the ruffian and he
knew that Keldor's plan was working. He watched the hobbit weakly open his mouth for his next dose and decided to put Keldor's theories to the test. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell of the hobbit and took a bucket of water from a nearby stream and threw it upon him. He brought Thad and Mendal over to watch and laughed as he doused the hobbit once more with another bucket of water. "Untie his hands Thad, the rattling reeks, lets give 'im a good washin afore his new master takes'im" Anborn ordered. Thad, only too eager to join in the fun quickly cut the cords that bound Frodo's hands behind his back and with a kick of his foot forced the Hobbit to roll to his stomach so his feet could be untied as well. Frodo moaned weakly from the sensation of pins and needles that coursed down his shoulders and arms as he was pulled to a sitting position and leaned awkwardly against a nearby tree, he fought against his consciousness, willing his eyes to stay closed to the troubles of his body. He had no strength to sit up and soon, much to the amusement of his captors, fell over into the mud and filth he had lay in moments before. Anborn laughed too a moment and then grew impatient. He walked to the
hobbit with one more bucket of water and set it beside him as he leaned him up once more. He tangled his fingers in the greasy lengths of his dark curls and with a gleam in his eyes turned to the others and said "Shall we wash his hair lads?" and with that brought the Hobbits head into the bucket totally submerging him as he held his head down.
Frodo felt pressure building in his chest, he twitched briefly as his body began to note the details of his drowning, his eyes opened at long last to be met by the blurring of murky water. Flashing lights danced before him and the tightness in his chest built till he was aware of the sensation of pain and he feebly brought his hand up and tried to push away from the bucket. He heard distant laughter, muffled sounds assailing his ears as his weakened body tried once more to lift his head from the water. Just as he felt all begin to go black he was yanked back and thrown to the ground coughing and vomiting up the water forced into his lungs during his struggles. The three men laughed as Frodo lay there weakly gasping and choking . Anborn smiled, a cold and calculating smile and took the oiled pouch of poppy from his pocket. He knelt by the pain wracked hobbit, dangling the pouch just before the glassy blue gaze he taunted him. "Seems he's dirty again lads....what do you say rattling...a trade, we give you another 'bath' and I give you your 'medicine'. " Frodo tried to sort the choice before him, but his mind heard no choice that mattered, he heard only he'd be given more medicine...the price his body was to pay was of no consequence, so badly did his mind crave the peace and nothingness of the death flower. He stared blankly at the figure beside him and slowly nodded. Thad and Mendal laughed in delight at the specter before them as Anborn twisted his cruel smile a bit more "I did not hear you asking for it my sweet, what did you say you'd like me to do to ya?" Frodo tried to start his tongue moving, knew he'd have to force his lips around the words and he slowly croaked " bath please...I, I want a..another bath." Anborn obliged and the three laughed uproariously as a soon unconscious Frodo was pulled from the bucket. Anborn watched as the limp body convulsively spit what water he could from his lungs, bile and vomit dripped from his lips as Anborn kicked the frail body to ensure that it was laying on it's side. "I'd not want ye ta choke on yer vomit my noble halfhigh" then with a smile of triumph he forced open the hobbits lips and smeared the promised paste upon the roof of his mouth. In his mind Frodo felt a wave of peace and a sigh of contentment escaped his chapped and filthy lips. As he faded once more to oblivion he heard Thads voice "wonder what else he'll do fer it eh?" as the three men laughed once more.
Aragorn and the others moved carefully through the brush, he did not want to miss any signs and he frequently dismounted to check markers upon the trail. At one point he found a length of blood encrusted rope left near a stand of trees and the evidence of punishment as blood tipped switches were tossed to the bushes. Sam's face grew white then red with anger and Aragorn had been forced to pull Sam from Brego's back before the horse grew nervous from the hobbit's rantings. Once he had Sam calmed, he gave the length of rope to Durzak to sniff and then the Orc was able to guide them on their path. The going was still slow, far slower than what Sam wanted, but Aragorn would not risk losing the trail and he kept them to a steady pace. They did not stop for an evening meal, munched upon Lembas from Sam's pack instead as the Orcs brought down a few rabbits and ate them as they walked.
As the sun set the distant outline of the mountains could be seen and Aragorn once more stopped the band of travelers to discuss their next move. "We need to come at them from the river side, yet I have no exact knowledge of where they are and fear we would be spotted in daylight." He looked to the Orcs who nodded in agreement and Aragon continued "I suggest that our best plan of action is to go through the pass of Uldor and hope that we come close to the river Anduin, near, but not too near the bluff where their camp is likely to be located." Thus agreed the four of them set out, using what light the gibbous moon offered and thankful that the path was fairly unencumbered by obstacles. Towards Midnight, as Sam nearly fell from Brego in his exhaustion, Aragorn called a halt and they rested in a crevice by a stream that lead into the distant river. The Orcs took this time to seek out any nocturnal animal that could be easily taken by strength of hand,both needing not just the sustenance of the hunt, but the time to be together
. While the Orcs were off on their hunting foray and Sam dozed fitfully by his side, Aragorn pondered their next move. He worried that the light of day would make their approach to the camp too visible, and knew that they might be forced to scale the wall of the bluff, a path that Anborn and his men would not think to watch. He wondered at the climbing ability of the larger and heavier Orcs. Soon he heard the soft steps of the Orcs as they returned and he bent to gently wake Sam. "Sam, time to go now" he said in a hushed voice as he softly stroked his back. Sam woke instantly from his slumber and groused "Why'd ya let me sleep Strider, ye said yerself that night was best time to approach" so saying he stood and dusted himself off. He strode towards Brego and Aragorn silently walked behind him, helped him up and in a moment they were on their way again.
The deepness of night gave way to a gradual lightening in the sky as the moon began it's gradual fall over the far horizon. What little light this fading moon offered, was just enough to cover the actions of Thad as he crept towards the prone Hobbit. He knew that Anborn had forbade any pleasurin' sport, but the sight of the helpless hobbit, shirt drenched and creamy skin showing through it's numerous tears had been too much for him. He couldn't get the thought of the Hobbit from his mind, so as the others slept he approached the spot were the trembling Hobbit lie somnolent in his drugged slumber and with a last look towards his sleeping companions, he quietly bent and slung the diminutive rattling upon his shoulder and he sought a spot in the nearby trees that would afford him some small measure of privacy.
He reached the trees and let the limp form of the hobbit roll from his shoulder, hitting the ground with a soft 'hmpf'. He knelt beside him and unsheathing his knife he began to cut the bonds with which he was once more tied. He started with the feet and felt his way up the slender body till he reached the hands and those too he cut. He looked at his prize. In the slight shimmer of the moon Frodo's pale skin glowed with a vibrancy and beauty that was a wonder to behold 'like the fair folk 'e is' Thad thought as he looked at the delicate features and finely sculpted body, perfect in it's miniature dimensions. He felt himself growing aroused and with a growl he knelt to taste the fairness of the frail and limp hobbit beneath him. He pulled the limp body towards him and wrapped his arms about him from behind as he nibbled the slender neck. With a moan the ran his large coarsened hands over the pale and bruised chest, impatiently doing away with any button in it's path with a sharp tug. He felt the hobbit stir against him and saw the flicker of pale eyelids that signaled his awakening state. With a grin of predatory delight, lay him down and settled full upon him. Thad looked into the glassy stare of his eyes "did ye miss me love?" he asked as his hand ran the length of his chest and over his hip, around to the tight buttocks and he bent to nibble his ear as Frodo began to, from somewhere deep inside him, realize what torment he was soon to endure once more, and he began to moan and try to twist from side to side.. Thad was further aroused by the movement and he grabbed Frodo's face " 'yer eyes," Thad said "yer eyes are enough ta make any poor beast want ya" he said and he bent to cover the hobbit's lips with his own and brutally bit and bruised his lips with the force of his teeth and lips.
Frodo had been roused from his lethargy by a sudden sensation of pain in his shoulder as he hit the ground with a thud, moments later he was dimly aware that he was no longer tied. He drifted into himself once more, only to be roused from his stupor once more as he felt the weight of another upon him and the cool evening air upon the bareness of his chest. He struggled to open his eyes and through his drug induced haze he saw the leering face of Thad and heard his voice from a distance. He tried to crawl back into his mind, to shut out this assault upon his conscious self, but the man was too insistent. He felt his mouth covered, ravaging, biting and forced so hard upon him that he could hear the click of the mans teeth upon his own. He tried to command his body, to make his head move to shake the man from him, but he could not. All he could was lie there and wait for it to stop. Thad soon lifted his head and smiling his self satisfied smile he bent down once more to lick a trail of blood that ran from the hobbit's torn lips as his hand traveled across the pale fairness of the frail shining creature below him. "You're beautiful" he moaned as he breathed heavily in Frodo's face and fumbled with his breeches. reaching down to tug on Frodo's breeks "let me show you how a real man appreciates your kind" he panted as the helpless hobbit gasped and tried to call out. Thad stopped his cry with another bruising kiss and Frodo felt crushed by the force as the intrusive tongue of the ruffian blocked his attempts to protest and he trembled violently in his panic.
"No" a cold voice came from behind Thad "Let me remind you of our laws, Firngil is a Corsair now, he is to be touched by none other." Thad, angered by the interruption, tried to roll from the prone hobbit beneath him and with a snarl he was about to reply when he felt a hand grab his hair roughly and draw a dagger across his windpipe. He was dead as his body landed once more upon the hobbit, blood spewing from his neck. Frodo felt rather than saw the limp bloody body dragged from him as he faded once more to oblivion and he was once more hoisted to a mans shoulder and bourne back to camp.
The light of the moon shone less brightly now as the night headed towards it's brush with morning, Keldor headed towards the glowing embers of the camp fire and dropped the hobbit, upon his side, close beside the fire. The Corsair cap't squatted by the fire, he ran the tip of his dagger through the heat of the embers and turned back to the limp figure beside him "once more I must mark my property it would seem"he muttered with a twinge of detached annoyance. With an agile twist he had Frodo's neck wrapped snug in his arm, the back of his neck bare to Keldors touch. The Corsair cap't blew the hair aside and choose a smooth patch of skin near the puckered reminder of another injury, and brutally carved the letter "F" in the delicate fair skin.
Frodo's screams woke the rest of the camp, Mendal and Anborn shook the sleep from their eyes and grabbed their swords reflexively as they leaped towards the fire. The Corsair Cap't stood, black eyes filled with loathing as he kicked the panting and moaning form of the blood drenched hobbit from him. Anborn was the first to speak "what have ya done ta him?" he queried with a look of disgust in his eyes. Keldor wiped his dagger upon the fabric of his richly brocaded cloak and carefully placed it in it's sheath. "I merely marked what is mine, once more I might add" as he stared towards the melted flesh and gold hoop in the hobbits ear. "The blood, all that blood" Anborn said with a question in his voice as he took in the ripped shirt drenched in blood. "Unavoidable" Keldor said as he motioned Anborn to sit and took his time seating himself upon the ground. "Meaning what?" Anborn snapped, still standing and becoming frustrated with the Corsairs answers. "Meaning that Firngil is my property and I acted to protect him from being 'used' by one of your men...the penalty for touching a Corsair without invitation is death." Anborn motioned with a tilt of his head to Mendal who went off in search of Thad, returning moments later white and shaken "Dead Anborn, his head's near cut off".
Anborn's fury was evident as he faced the swarthy cap't. "That'll cost ya" snapped the angry ruffian," I've just upped my price on the halfhigh". Keldor cooly raised a single eyebrow and said"and I have just reduced mine, it seems my property's been used, I don't like to share my playthings Anborn." The Ruffian lunged toward Keldor with a growl, but instead of reaching the Corsair, he grabbed the Ringbearer by the hair and yanked him into his arms. Frodo felt himself dangling in the air, and he fought once more to open his eyes. Anborn readjusted his prisoner and gripped him now by the neck, which he slowly squeezed as he placed his dagger upon the delicate skin of the hobbit's windpipe. Frodo was lost in the swirling shadows of his mind, the darkness called to him, it beckoned and it's call was stronger than his wish to come to the surface of his conciousness once more. As he felt the air slowly leave his body, he made one last attempt to look upon the world that had caused him so much pain, eyes of blue met eyes of black behind the gently flickering flames of the campfire and Frodo saw his death as he turned his sight inward to the solace of his soul.
Anborn backed towards the edge of the bluff and he sneered "yer property he won't be much longer Keldor...it's the full price or it's a dead treat ye'll be bringing back to your men." The Corsair felt his cool demeanor vanish as a quick glance to Firngil's glazed blue eyes ignited a passion inside him and he became enraged as he drew his sword "You do not want a Corsair as your enemy Anborn, now give him over,...Firngil is mine, or I'll see you hunted to the ends of all lands" he promised. Anborn laughed bitterly "oh ye'll have to do better than that, for hunted I already am my friend...now it's the full price...or" the ruffian gestured to the bluff behind him. The pale morning was just beginning and faint wisps of clouds could be seen on the horizon. Anborn backed up one more step and Keldor, seeing that the man meant what he said tried with fumbling apologies and protests to distract him. Just then Frodo, whose air supply had diminished to a point of near suffocation started to gag and Anborn took a second to change his grip, grasping him instead about the waist. That second was all Keldor needed and he lunged forward and thrust his blade to strike the ruffian in his shoulder. Anborn's howl of rage was heard as an echo down the river valley and he, with one snap of his wrist and thrust of his arm sent the nearly dead body of the ringbearer over the edge.
Sam had perched upon the ledge on the lip of the bluff, poised to creep over the edge when the signal was given. The bird call Sam was waiting for never came and precious minutes ticked by until Sam heard Frodo's bloodcurdling scream and nearly scrambled to the top bird call or no. He was stopped by the firm hand of Aragorn who was crouched beside him. A frantic motion of his hand and Aragorn pressed Sam closer to the wall. The angry voices up above could be heard and Sam suddenly recalled his nightmare., this bluff, a glassy eyed Frodo and an angry ruffian. Eyes wide with fear he motioned up to Aragorn and whispered frantically "he'll throw Frodo over the edge" Aragorn, for the breadth of a second ,was torn between telling Sam to be quiet once more and asking him how he knew such a thing when the voices rose and a bellow of pain alerted them to a strike that had hit it's mark. "Aragorn" Sam screamed and the Ranger turned from Sam's white face in time to lunge to the edge of their tiny ledge and grab frantically at the bundle of bloodied rags that flew seemingly just out of his reach. But with a last grunt of effort and Sam holding the King's cloak Aragorn felt his hand happen upon a grabbing point and his body was nearly jerked from the ledge with the momentum of Frodo's falling body. Sam yelled in terror "pull 'im back, don't you let go...don't let go" he pleaded and with a last gasp of effort Aragorn felt his hand tightened about the slender wrist of the ringbearer. With a sigh of relief that soon turned to a shudder of pain he pulled Frodo up and leaned exhausted into the relative safety of the dirt wall behind him.
The King held the emaciated body tight in his arms "no Frodo" he said softly, his words a sad echo of his heart. Sam, reached to stroke Frodo's bruised and blood stained cheek, the pad of his thumb coming to rest gently upon the ripped and swollen lips of his childhood friend and mentor
"Oh me dear, what have they done?" he whispered brokenly as he took in the sight of his gentle friend and master "what have they done ta ya now?". Aragorn stared in horror at the bundle of rags in his arms, dirt and blood encrusted clothing, bleeding wounds and shallow labored breaths brought him back to the cool sun of Cormallen. 'I can not make this choice again Gandalf' he pleaded in his mind 'help me my old friend, help me guide our Ringbearer to his destiny, help me make the right choice this time.'