Nasty Hobbitsess

Chapter 8

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Frodo blinked several times but stdidndidn't see a thing. Had he been
blinded?

Frodo tried to calm himself, drawing breaths in and out. Everything
would be fine, he reassured himself. What he needed to do was assess
the situation.

He was right. After a moment adjusting himself to the darkness, he
started to recognize forms around him.

Frodo got to his feet. Luckily his cousins had re-dressed him with
his shirt and coat. Frodo rather lamented for his lost cloak. He
hoped he would not freeze in this place without it.

Frodo examined his new prison with his eyes and hands. By groping
the walls, he concluded that the room was a cellar - as it had no
windows. Frodo's fingers found a door, but one with neither door
handle, nor keyhole. Feeling desperate and exhausted, he rested his
back against the door and slid down to the floor.

Frodo buried his head in his two hands, fighting hard not to sob. No,
he couldn't afford to go weak right now. He had to be tough and
strong. A way out, yes, he needed to find a way out! Think, think!

Turning back facing the door, he started to thump on it. Bang! Bang!
Bang!

"Hey!" He shouted as loud as possible. "Anybody! Get me out of here!
Help! HELP!!!" He stopped to listen to any sign from the other side
of the door. Nothing. Again, he cried out, "HELP! HELP ME! ANYBODY!
PLEASE!"

Frodo placed his ear against the door, listening. Nothing. Not even
the sound of the wind. He wondered where on earth he was. Frodo felt
his heart beat faster as his fear of this dark, lost place
intensified.

After several minutes thumping and yelling, Frodo gave up. His throat
felt dry. He kicked the door, irritated,and cried out as a searing
pain hit his foot.

Frodo was left alone - but for how long he couldn't tell. He slipped
in and out of unconsciousness. He felt weaker and weaker with every
passing hour.

Suddenly he woke-without even realizing that he had been asleep.
Frodo at once became aware of someone else's presence. It was still
too dark to see but he knew it was Merry. Frodo was too tired and
hungry to show a sign of acknowledgment. The thought of being with
Merry alone left him with mixed feelings. Being in Merry's presence
had only meant pain. Fear, disgust, confusion, but also sadness
surged through the weakened hobbit.

"Frodo."

The voice was frighteningly soft. Frodo shivered slightly. He was
thankful that he still had the ability to think straight. He
shuddered to think what would happen if he lost his common sense and
couldn't tell illusion from real

"You remember Bilbo's ring, Frodo?" asked Merry. "It's mine now. But
I still need to ask you something, Cousin. What exactly IS the use of
it? How can it be useful to me? I know it looks precious, but I don't
think Bilbo would have kept it so carefully and so long if it was
just a common piece of jewelry."

Unexpectedly, a roar of laughter exploded from Frodo's mouth. A
cynical laugh, though, not his usual crisp and merry one.

"Merry --- Merry," Frodo hissed with a cold laugh. "Give it up! You
know I won't tell you anything about that. It is foolish of you to
think that I would EVER reveal the ring's secret. It's mine! My own!"

Merry went pale. For a moment he was completely abashed. Frodo had
been right to call him "foolish." Where else could you find a thief
who had no idea what to do with treasure already gained? But hey,
now, who did you call a thief?! Merry shook his thoughts off, feeling
ever more ridiculous. Merry did not like to be made to feel a fool.
He glowered down at Frodo lying on his stomach on the floor. Unlike
Frodo, Merry had a very clear sight against the darkness. It was
just one small power bestowed by the ring.

"Frodo, look at me," ordered Merry. There was no answer and no sign
of Frodo obeying his command. "I said, LOOK AT ME!!"

Merry grabbed a handful of Frodo's curls and jerked it up, forcing
Frodo to gaze up. Frodo's eyes flashed around the dark space wildly,
unsure of which direction he was expected to look. He winced from the
pain in his abused scalp.

"I --- I won't tell you anything - ahh - Merry!" he repeated,
reaching for the hand holding his hair tightly. Merry sneered at the
unseeing hobbit, tightening his pitiless grasp.

"Tell me, Frodo, now!"

"No!"

"Well, then, you asked for it!"

Mercilessly, he tossed Frodo's head hard against the hard dirt floor.
A fiery pain erupted into the damaged hobbit's forehead. Frodo was
too shoked by the violence to scream. He choked and sank back into
blessed oblivion.

***

"What's your name?" asked Strider. Sam gave him his name.

"I'm his gardener," he added. Strider looked at him unbelievingly.

"A gardener! What is a garderer doing for his master on such a
dangerous quest?!"

Sam said, defensively, "I have to follow my master wherever he goes!
I made a promise to Gandalf to never leave him."

Strider looked stricken. "You know Gandalf!"

"Of course I do!"

"So you must know the manner of your quest and why your master had to
leave the Shire.

"I do. I mean I know what thing he has and the story of the dark lord
and all. But I'm not really sure about what he must do."

Strider let the information sink in. Then he asked another question.

"Who are the two hobbits I saw with Frodo?"

Sam threw his glance out of the window. Clouds seemed to shade over
his eyes. "They are Mr. Frodo's cousins, Mr. Strider, sir," said Sam
faintly. "I couldn't understand why they had brought harm to Frodo.
The bigger of the two is Merry and the other one is Pippin." The
ranger seemed to be taken aback. Cousins?! Their behavior was more
like that of orcs.

***

Moaning, Frodo was slowly regaining his ciouciousness. His head was
throbbing badly. He reached for his forehead and felt warm, sticky
liquid. It had to be his blood. He got up clumsily and rushed to what
he thought was the corner of the room. He felt like the world was
spinning heavily but he didn't care. If he had to vomit, it had to be
somewhere seemingly far and unreachable.

Frodo heaved and heaved although it was just fluid. Dizzy and
nauseous, he went back to his former spot.

On his way back he bumped into something on the floor. He cursed
silently. But --- the sounds produced were like a falling bottle and
spilling water. His heart stopped. Had there been a bottle of water
there? And now the bottle was emptied because of his own
carelessness! His achingly dry throat became even more parched as he
imagined how good it would have felt to sip just one drop of that
water.

TBC