CHAPTER THREE -- “Only a Matter of Time”
“It’s a pretty name. What does it mean?” he murmured as he kept his head buried against my shoulder. I continued to bathe him with the meager supply of water that I had. I knew not when the last time he had eaten was, but hazarded a guess that it had not been in the last couple of days. I was also not certain how long he had been here. And…I was starting to refer to him as a ‘he’ in my mind. I was growing attached, and even slightly that was a bad idea. I had tried to get him to drink some milk but he would not keep anything down. Not surprising…it was straight from the cow, and not entirely appetizing. It was either that, or the orc’s idea of wine. Perhaps though…getting him drunk might help him deal with the pain.
Smart Hobbit…he knew that all elvish names held meaning in them. Mine was rather simple…and quite common at that. “It does not mean much, little one. In your tongue I suppose it would be Rose.” Common enough, but I was surprised to see the tiny smile begin to form on his lips, then fade when he remembered his situation.
I had asked Karkosh to give me his gourd of wine and surprisingly enough the orc had complied. I had a feeling my master had told him to do what I asked. There was a certain amount of prestige in being a favorite. I grimaced slightly. Though it was prestige earned only from surviving. They had captured seven elves from Mirkwood that day, and I was as far as I knew anyway…for I had not seen any of the others after the first year…the only one left. Unbidden an image of Legolas rose in my mind…and a quiet evening in the glades. I pushed it away.
Frodo clung to me and would not drink anything. He kept his eyes closed…I think he was imagining that he was somewhere else. In fact…I’m sure of it. He was still hot, and I mixed a few of the herbs with the wine in a small tin cup. He shook his head fervently when I tried to coax it in him. I knew I was starting to care…he was a ‘he’ now. I set the cup down for a moment and then soothed him a little by rubbing his back gently.
“I think Sam’s going to marry a lass named Rosie when…if…we get home…” he sighed, “Dear Sam…I hope he’s okay…do…” he looked up at me, blinking away tears. “D-do …have they captured him too? P-please…you must tell me. N-nobody said anything. They…-they just asked me questions…”
“Is Sam a hobbit like yourself?” I asked gruffly.
“Yes…A bit s-smaller.” he shivered again.
“You’re the only hobbit here.” I told him.
“I need…” he choked out, “I need the r-ring…” he whimpered deliriously. “It c-calls…W-Where is the Precious? They ask…I don’t k-know… I don’t k-know. Its gone…I c-can’t tell them anything.” he shivered and I wished I had a blanket, I unwrapped a tattered, grimy cloak from my shoulders and enclosed it around him. The shivering became less…but still pronounced. He began to cry again. “It h-hurts…hurts…” he then looked up at me again. “Merilas…h-how…how did y-you come here?”
I didn’t want to remember, and I certainly did not want to tell the hobbit. He was far too curious for one as well, perhaps that is what led him to be captured. I was saved perhaps, from speaking more about it for someone was coming through the trap door.
“I thought you had been here longer than a day…but I’m sorry…its only been about 12 hours, Karkosh told me when I got the wine from him. They have only tortured you once. Karkosh said there was a big fight over your things…” I stopped talking when the trap door opened.
Frodo was giving me a terrified look. As the orc became more visible, I saw who it was and grimaced. Snaga. I hated him more than I hated any of the other guards for he had done more to hurt me than most. It was only because I served Shagrat, the Captain of the Tower that his underlings did not touch me anymore. I was his … reward for services. I shivered. The chains that linked my ankles together scraped as I rose and Frodo noticed them for the first time.
Snaga approached us and dragged the hobbit to his feet by the hair. “Shagrat wants this one.”
I leapt to my own feet. “No…no you must not take him. If you question him again…he will die and you won’t get your information.” I cried out trying to wrestle the hobbit from the orc.
Snaga spat, “Stupid she-elf.” He shoved me back onto the floor and slung Frodo over his shoulder like the hobbit was no more than a sack of potatoes. “Time’s up.”
“But he said I could have 24 hours…”
“No time. .” Snaga gave a nasty sneer in my direction. He carried the hobbit away before I could do anything and tears sprang into my eyes. Frodo had looked like he was going to pass out, and that was probably a good thing. If he did…perhaps death would come quickly for him.
“Are we staying here?” Karkosh asked me. He was a little confused, his orders had him to remain in the tower room, but he was not so sure about me. I decided to take advantage of his confusion…because…they would bring him back…and then…if he was still alive…I nodded.
“We stay here.”
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