|
Merry
“Very well.”
Merry approached the tree and leant over to whisper words of secret, ageless
potency into the crack. The effect was instantaneous, as the great overhanging
branches of Old Man Willow began to quiver in disdain, and a deep rumbling
awakened inside, like the churning gears of massive subterranean machinery. The
crack widened slightly, and Merry whispered another verse into the opening. He
paused when he thought he could hear Sam calling out to Frodo from within, and
in all of his deathly plight, still endeavoring to convince his master to fly
from the scene and leave him behind. Merry’s jaw grew taut in wrath, but he
nonetheless carried on to whisper the final verse of the release spell into the
tree. At last, Merry perfunctorily stepped aside, as the split in the wood
suddenly opened wide, and Sam was thrown back to the outside world.
Not wholly was Sam to be freed at all once. In the final determining seconds,
Merry whispered something else into the tree, and immediately the crack snapped
shut around Sam’s ankle in a grip that would not be broken by force or will.
Merry wisely stepped back from range of the furious hobbit, whose leg might be
trapped, but Sam was unhurt, unfazed, and had full use of his arms. Victory had
been won by neither side as of yet, and a cold light flickered in Merry’s eyes
which asserted that he remained undefeated. He averted his attention back to
Frodo, with no sign of his former patience or humor, and it would appear that
his fury could hardly be concealed. He made a sudden rush at Frodo and secured
him by the forearm so there would be no more running away, and directed Pippin
to bring forth the ropes.
“The time has come for you to fulfill your end of the bargain, Frodo,” announced
Merry in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “Hold out your arms, love, and
allow yourself to be bound by Peregrin. Resist, and I shall have the tree
squeeze off Sam’s foot before your very eyes. Do not force me to do that to poor
Sam in result of your impertinence.”
Frodo
Sam’s pleas, low and muffled, for Frodo to leave him to the untender mercies
of the ancient tree tore at Frodo’s heart. A lesser hobbit--heck, just about any
hobbit--would be pleading for release at any cost at this point. Frodo, never a
fan of tight, enclosed spaces, was fairly certain that he would be himself!
Samwise was so brave, so devoted—which was exactly why Frodo couldn’t leave him.
So he resolutely ignored Sam’s cries and watched skeptically as Merry approached
the tree. Part of Frodo was still doubtful that those old nursery rhymes Merry
had spoken of did anything more than amuse children.
But then the massive tree, cajoled by Merry, shook and rumbled in an ominous
manner, and Frodo gasped and took a quick step back. The crack in the massive
trunk widened and Samwise burst forth, sweaty, smudged, and bleeding from
several small cuts, but apparently otherwise unharmed. His features twisted into
a furious expression when his eyes fell on Merry, and Frodo sighed in relief.
"Sam! You’re alright!" Frodo cried, darting forward to hug his friend. He
noticed that Sam was not quite free just as Merry grabbed his arm and wrenched
him backwards. Merry spoke again, biting off his words, his voice low and
dangerous, and beckoned Pippin to step forward.
Frodo’s anger rose to the boiling point. Impertinence, now? He was getting
awfully tired of Merry addressing him as if he was no more than a child, when he
had 14 years on the Brandybuck! Merry hadn’t freed Sam, as they had agreed, and
now he expected Frodo to submit to being bound?
"Merry!" Frodo snapped back, turning his head to glare at his cousin. "I am a
gentlehobbit and a hobbit of my word! Release Sam—completely—and you have my
word of honor that we will return with you. You have no need for those."
Frodo’s eyes flashed dangerous blue sparks as he nodded at the ropes that
Pippin, who had taken a couple of tentative steps toward him, held.
Underneath his anger, Frodo was frightened. The sight of those ropes made him
recoil as if Pippin held a dangerous snake in his arms. Terrible things had
happened to Frodo when he was bound and in Merry’s keeping! He couldn’t let
himself be bound again. He could not.
"But I will not be bound again!" Frodo stated flatly. "I cannot brook it! Now
release Sam as you agreed and let’s leave this wretched place!"
His combined anger and fear gave Frodo a strength he might not otherwise have
had, and he wrenched himself free of Merry's grip once again.
Sam
Sam ceased his fevered cries as he felt the walls around him shuddered, and a
great rumbling noise drowned out any further contact he had with the hobbits
outside. The pressure on his stomach slowly subsided, and he felt able to move
his legs a little more. Then suddenly the tree split open and he fell out onto
the forest floor, pushed out forcibly by the cruel tree.
He heard Frodo's voice call out to him, but paid no heed to it. Instead, he
focused on Merry and with a feral growl, lunged forward.
He got no further than a few inches before he felt wood clamp down around his
ankle. He was still trapped by the tree. With a yell of pain, he continued to
strive forward, the friction between wood and ankle scraping and tearing his
skin. Much to his annoyance, Merry had stepped out of range, and he grew lax,
making eye contact with his master.
When Merry grabbed Frodo, Sam let off a torrent of insults aimed at the
Brandybuck, with a few good threats thrown in for good measure. When he had used
his arsenal of threats and curses, he reverted his attention to his master.
"Just go, Frodo! Leave now, get help! Don't let him tie you up again, better me
than you." He swallowed hard and took what he hoped was an assertive tone,
looking at him with a great deal more aggression than he had ever hoped to use.
"GO!"
Pippin
Pippin stood aghast. Was he told to bound Frodo? Frodo
instead of Sam. But this didn't make sense. Frodo had said he was willing to go
and it was Sam's bloody fault they were all trapped in this mess! Pippin steeled
himself... He had promised to do what Merry had told no matter
how terrible it may seem. But now Frodo has rejected again. What to do... what
to do... If Pippin fought Frodo down and tied him nice and neat Merry might be
proud of him... might grant him this little victory as proof of his loyalty.
But could Pippin do it? Fight his own beloved cousin, fist to fist. His insides
turned cold at the mere thought. Memories of swimming lessons in the Brandywine
that he later learned must have been such a trial on his cousin, were surfacing
in his head. Thoughts of the achingly long games of catch as catch can followed
by picnics and then a gripping tale from one of Frodo's mountains of books in
Frodo's own melodious voice threatened to overcome his early promise.
Pippin clung to the rope and took a few steps forward in the middle of the fray.
Frodo had stepped back from him before but now he seemed to have a bit of an
advantage. Could he do it? He could almost feel Frodo's cunning fingers digging
into his sides driving frenzies of
tickles through him and forcing him to succumb to a giggling fit. The sound of
his cousin's clear laughter, or his funny troll voice when they played out
Bilbo's stories. Memories of digging his tiny hands into Frodo's curls and
squealing hysterically as he was carried pig-a-back through the hills and
fields.
He blinked and saw Frodo before him, poised on his toes almost as if a he were a
coney about to be caught by a fox. There was strength and anger in his eyes,
anger that broke Pippin's heart to see directed at him and Merry. Couldn't those
depthless eyes see? With all his wisdom wasn't it clear to him? Merry loved him.
And Pippin loved him! How could he doubt it? It brought tears to Pippin's eyes
and in that moment he saw that he had to do it... because he loved him! Whatever
clouded those clear eyes, whatever blinded his wisdom from seeing such truth in
Merry's words, it had to be dealt with.
Peregrin closed his eyes against another image of his hands elbow deep in doe as
Frodo tried to teach him to make muffins in Bilbo's kitchen. The light dusting
of flour on Frodo's appled cheeks, the lopsided grin with the small gap between
his two front teeth, the sparkle of those
eyes with love and joy and nothing condescending.
He took a breath and another long step forward again. Peregrin felt his stomach
flutter as he tried to stay his trembling voice. "Frodo, please don't make this
difficult for Merry... or me..." He paused to look up pleadingly at his cousin.
"And don't... don't hurt Sam... because that's what you'd be doing if you
refused these..." He held out the ropes. "Please?"
|
