CHAPTER FOUR -- A form of Mercy

When they brought him back this time, he was completely naked….alive, but barely. It was three hours later and Karkosh and I were prepared with a blanket and more water. Snaga looked at us in disgust, and especially at Karkosh. He dropped the hobbit on the floor, bleeding and unconscious. At least he had that. I sighed looked at Snaga, “How long this time?”

Snaga’s lips curled. “Shagrat says no more than 12 hours. Make him coherent. Doesn’t say anything. Stupid hobbit-scum.” the orc kicked at the small body, then trudged over to the trap door and left.

Once I was sure he was gone, I moved over to the fallen creature. He lay on the floor…curled up into a little ball. I knew that he was conscious, he was just not showing it. I didn’t want to even think about what they had done to him. I unfolded the thin, partially clean blanket and draped it over him, wrapping him in it. “Frodo?” I eased him up off of the floor and settled his head in my lap. I touched his forehead, it was even worse than before.

This time, I’d make sure he drank the mixture. I put the small tin cup to his lips, and had Karkosh open his mouth. He struggled a bit, but I poured the liquid into his throat and the orc closed his mouth so he couldn’t spit it out. “Swallow.” I urged him. I knew he didn’t want to, but there was nothing for it. He tried to hold it as long as he could, but eventually he did swallow…he whimpered and forced his eyes open. He stared in fear at Karkosh and then fixed his eyes on me. The orc let go of his jaw and he gasped for breath. “Don’t make us do that again.” I warned him.

Frodo nodded, and closed his eyes again, shutting out the world around him. He could barely move without wincing. I sighed because the bandages had all been removed. How could I heal this one if they kept hurting him? I brought the mixture once again to his lips. “You must take all of it. It will help with the pain.” I assured him.

He at first shook his head, but when he felt Karkosh’s fingers on his jaw he blanched and shrank into me. “N-no…I’ll drink it…” he shuddered. The orc let go and he opened his lips timidly. They trembled, and I saw a little trickle of blood from an open wound on the side of his lips and a bruise was building there. I frowned a little but he had to drink the entire thing. I helped him and though it took him some time…he eventually took the entire cup. There was no food…but with the herbs in that mixture it was a little like broth…it would sustain him.

He blinked at me a little dizzy from the effects of the wine. I was not surprised, he would be more than a little tipsy. The alcohol in Dragonsblood was rather potent. It would make it easier to deal with his wounds without him in pain every time I touched him. “Merilas?” he remembered my name. I was rather surpised at that. I nodded and he snuggled against me. Surprised, I stared down at him in a bit of amazement that he could still act like an innocent after what he’d been through.

“Yes.” I said simply. It was not a word that held any comfort in it, for still it was hard for me to try and comfort him. I didn’t even know if they would give me the 12 hours Snaga said. Sometimes…they liked to play games.

He smiled slightly, a action that faded as quickly as it had come then his eyes closed again and he began to speak. “I--I never thought to get this far...Is this what they did to Gollum?…I feel like…I’m losing my mind…” he shifted a little as I began to bathe him with the clean water. This time, I bathed the worst of his wounds first. I did not know how long we had. “Sometimes…I think I’m back in the Shire…or in Rivendell….Merilas…I know where I am…” he licked blood from the side of his lip and I moved to dab at the wound there. “P-please…tell me…tell me something that will take my mind from this place…Please…” he opened his eyes and looked up into mine. It was a mistake to stare at him for he was really quite endearing.

“I don’t have any tales, Frodo.” I shook my head. I did not want to remember my home, or the past. It did no good for me and I had to think of me. For how many days would he live under torture like this? One…maybe two? Three at the most. He was not that strong.

“Please…” he begged softly, tears springing into his eyes. He needed release from torment, I knew that, but I did not know how to give it to him. “I-I don’t want to think…tell me…something…anything…”

“Alright, Frodo. But its not a happy tale…” I sighed. I knew I was going to regret this, but I supposed that perhaps it would help him. As I bathed and tended each of his wounds in turn I spoke of an elleth who once lived in Mirkwood.

“Anything w-would be better than what…what is in my mind right now.” he curled up and listened quietly. “I will even…d-drink more of that...awful stuff…”

I nodded for Karkosh to make another mixture. He often was in my presence and though we had our difference he was genuinely interested in herbs and had been some help for an Orc. As he prepared another cup I cleansed the small hobbit as best I could and began my tale.

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