A RETURN TO THE PAST
May 10, 3020
At six o'clock in the morning of May 10th, Rian knocked on Frodo's bedroom door. When he opened the door, she said, "Master Frodo, you have to get up now. Guntha has issued the order that you must arise from bed every morning at this time. Some of the servants have to get out of bed at three anyway so they can begin to prepare the morning meal. As you know, the fires in the kitchen and your bedroom, sitting room and your great hall are never allowed to go out, and servants stay up all during the night to keep the flames blazing in your hearth. Guntha must have his daily bath promptly at five in the morning, and then he wants his spiced tea and the dispatches brought to him in his room. He is a real stickler for order, I believe.
"Finduilas also said that Master Guntha said that you must eat your breakfast at seven in the morning and have it completed by 7:30 promptly. After you have completed breakfast, precisely at 7:45, you are to be escorted to the courtyard, where, under supervision of the guards, you are to perform vigorous exercises, such as running, jumping and preliminary practice in wielding a staff for self-protection. This is to be completed by a quarter after the hour of eight.
"Then, at eight, he wants to meet with all the servants in the servants' dining hall. You are not required to be present at that meeting, because he says he wants to talk to the servants only. Then Finduilas said I was to tell you that you were to meet with him in your sitting room when the clock strikes the half hour. Master Guntha also said that then you are allowed to have a light repast of tea and cakes and he will be joining you every morning to dine with you. He has the whole day organized this way for you, I am told by Finduilas, and he demands that you comply with his wishes. I do not know the full of it or what he has planned for you after his meeting with you, but I do not envy you.
"I do not like it one bit, my lord; I do not like it one bit!" Rian exclaimed. "Everything now is to be run by the clock and precisely as Master Guntha directs. Finduilas said that he told her that everyone must learn military discipline and order, for soon we will be leaving Gondor forever and taking you home."
Frodo portrayed by Hobbitness
Rian and Dirar portrayed by Eowyn
Narrator, Guntha and Alwan the Trainer portrayed by Angmar
Frodo: *Frodo wakes up with a start. He
sits bolt upright, blinking hard as he listens to Rian. His eyes
widen more and more with dismay. When she finally finishes, he
shakes his head dazedly, yawns, then moans sleepily*.......What?!
Rian: *Rian looks at Frodo in dismay, for she fears that she will
get some of the details wrong if she must say everything again.*
Uhh.... You are supposed to get up now, my lord... How much of
what I said did you understand...? *She grimaces as she waits
to hear his sleepy response.*
Frodo: Um...I don't know...there was too much!...*yawns* You said,
get up...breakfast...exercises, something else...tea and cakes....meeting
with Guntha...*yawns and practically falls out of bed. He splashes
cold water from a bowl on his face*
Rian: My lord, now I must leave and attend to my other duties.
Remember, your breakfast will be served at 7:30... and then fifteen
minutes later, you will be escorted to the courtyard for your
exercises. Then at 8:30, you will have a light repast and Master
Guntha will be joining you. *"At least I think so... I hope."
she thinks to herself* Perhaps I should have written all this
down... *she murmurs to herself.*
Frodo: Seven thirty! Who gets up at seven thirty?!...and you said
somebody has to get up at THREE?....*sighs* All right, I'll be
right there...wherever I'm supposed to be...ah yes, breakfast.
Thank you, Rian...oh, good morning, I forgot to say that. *grins
at her over the towel he is using to dry his face*
Rian: Good morning, my lord *she smiles weakly, and then bows,
leaving the room*
Frodo: *Frodo closes the door to his room, then begins dressing,
muttering to himself* I'm surprised he didn't tell me what clothes
I should wear!
Frodo: *After he dresses he rubs a stick on his teeth to clean
his mouth, then starts for the door. Suddenly he remembers his
hair is still askew in all directions. With a sigh he heads back
for his mirror. He runs a comb through his hair, splashes some
more cold water on his face to wake up, then starts for the dining
room to have breakfast.*
Rian: *Exactly at seven o'clock in the morning, Rian knocks on
the door to the sitting room, and upon gaining entry, she and
other serving girls bring in Frodo's breakfast and put it upon
the table before him. They attend him while he eats, and when
he is finished, take the dirty utensils back to the kitchen. Rian
lingers behind, however, and tells Frodo in a sympathetic voice*
You have fifteen minutes to get ready for your exercises, my lord...
Frodo: *Frodo stifles a groan as he nods to her, but manages to
force his face into a smile at the last second. He spends his
fifteen minutes with his forehead down on the table, trying to
get a little more rest. Then he trudges out to the courtyard.*
Narrator: *Exactly at 7:45, two guards wearing mail wait to meet
him. When they see him come into the courtyard, one of them hails
him* Your lordship sleeps late *his companion laughs*
Alwan the Trainer: Now, your lordship *Alwan says walking over
to him* put on a bit of weight during the winter, haven't ye?
Frodo: *Frodo is used to seeing guards everywhere by now, but
he still hates it, as do they all. Their joking increases his
annoyance.* Hmm. Perhaps.
Alwan the Trainer: Now let me introduce myself *he says mockingly*
I am called Alwan. You will never forget my name as long as you
live. Take off your fancy waistcoat and give it to the corporal
beside me. Popping a few buttons off it, haven't ye?
Frodo: *Glaring, Frodo takes off the waistcoat and hands it to
the corporal. I'm sure I won't forget you, since you will probably
work me to death, he thinks.*
Alwan the Trainer: All right now, let's see you run. Get started!
Let's see those fat legs move! *he says as he holds a small flail
in his right hand, striking it rhythmically against his left*
I will keep time as you run. Now get to it!
Frodo: *How utterly ridiculous and humiliating. What is the point
of this?...oh, wait, the point of everything that happens here
is to make things difficult for me. With a sigh, he begins to
run*
Alwan the Trainer: *The trainer and the guard lean against the
outside wall of the stable, watching Frodo run* Move it a little
faster! *Alwan shouts* A snail goes faster than you!
Frodo: *It is hard to run fast with no destination completely
against his will...but he tries to run as fast as he possibly
can. Soon he is panting and begins to break out in a sweat*
Dirar: I have seen broken down horses who were lame in at least
one leg run faster than you! *the guard, Dirar, jeers at the halfling*
Move it! Keep running!
Alwan the Trainer: Spavined, winded, sway-backed nags could run
faster than your short, fat legs! Look at him try to run! Hahahaha!
*they laugh*
Dirar: *Dirar almost doubles over in raucous laughter, slapping
his thigh*
Frodo: *Despite the stupidity of this situation, there will be
serious consequences if he does not cooperate...so he swallows
his anger at their taunts and tries to make it propel him faster.*
Alwan the Trainer: Corporal, I do not think we can do much with
this one. He's old and fat! Stop, halfling!
Dirar: Hold a carrot in front of his nose like one does in front
of a lazy horse, and that will get his legs a'moving! *Dirar laughs
uproariously*
Alwan the Trainer: It would take the lash to get this old, fat
one moving! *he laughs*
Dirar: We shall lash the fat right off him! *he laughs even more*
Alwan the Trainer: Let the lash sing around his ankles Corporal.
Get him moving again!
Dirar: *Dirar takes his own flail, and tapping it ominously against
his hand, he walks up to Frodo and stares down at him maliciously*
Get running, halfling! Or I shall lash the fat right off your
chubby little legs, you engorged little rabbit!
Frodo: *I wouldn't be surprised if you did, he thinks. He has
been standing with his hands on his knees, panting and glaring
daggers at them, but now he bursts into a run again*
Alwan the Trainer: *After watching Frodo run for ten minutes and
laughing at him as he does so, the trainer says* Halt, your lordship!
Frodo: *One more second and he felt he would drop. He staggers
to the wall and leans heavily against it, gasping and clutching
his chest. Great wet spots plaster his shirt to his chest and
back*
Alwan the Trainer: Did you run like this over the plains of Gorgoroth
when you went to return the Ring to our Master? Did you suffer
and sweat for that? But your body is weak now, isn't it, Friend
of Sauron? We shall get it in condition again! *he says as he
strikes the flail against his left hand*
Frodo: *That breaks through Frodo's resolve. He whirls on the
man with hatred flashing in his eyes, but cannot think of any
insult hot enough to fling at the man*
Alwan the Trainer: *The trainer walks up to him and picks him
up under his arms and brings him to face him* Did you run all
the way to Mordor, Your Excellency? *he asks sarcastically*
Frodo: *Seething, Frodo continues to glare at the man. He does
not dignify the guard's question with a response, but asks icily*
Didn't I see you at Lugburz?
Alwan the Trainer: Perhaps you did, halfling, perhaps you did
*he hisses and drops Frodo unceremoniously to the ground. Then,
looking down at him, he laughs again and taps the flail against
his left hand* How many miles did you travel from the Shire the
first day, Friend of Sauron?
Frodo: Why should I tell you? *he spits angrily, momentarily losing
control of himself* Maybe I don't even remember!
Alwan the Trainer: Halfling, in the Army of Mordor, it is expected
that a man or orc will walk two to two and a half miles an hour
at a regular pace. Then at double time, quick step, it is three
miles an hour. And that is what you are going to do when you go
back to your precious Shire - WALK AND RUN, HALFLING!
Frodo: *He struggles to his feet, pulling himself up by the wall.
The anger suddenly vanishes from his face, to be replaced with
something between desperation and hope*....Did you say I'm going
back to the Shire?
Alwan the Trainer: Maybe, halfling, maybe not *he laughs* Maybe
alive, maybe dead. But yes, Master Guntha has received word from
our Master. You are to leave in the middle of July. Corporal Dirar
and I will get you ready *they both laugh uproariously*
Frodo: *Maybe alive, maybe dead...but now he has a destination
worth this effort! He does not care how hard they work him, even
if they drive him with whips, if it means he will not stay in
Mordor forever!*
Dirar: Every wretched step you took over some of the same course
you will take again. And remember - when there is a whip - there
is a way! *he leans towards the halfling, leering evilly*
Alwan the Trainer: Now march halfling! Throw your shoulders back
and walk proudly forward! March! One, two, three, one, two, three....
Frodo: *He stifles the urge to beg them for a rest, and stumbles
away from the wall. He tries to march, but he is very unsteady,
and he sways precariously.*
Alwan the Trainer: The hobbit will march one, two, three, four,
one, two, three, four... *he chants as Frodo marches back and
forth across the courtyard* Corporal Dirar, throw him a staff!
Let him pretend it is his sword! *he laughs again* His precious
Sting!
Frodo: *winces...but tries not to let them see it. He thinks of
Bilbo. Oh, what would Bilbo think of him now? Maybe it is better
that he will never see Bilbo again.*
Dirar: Aye, captain! *he exclaims as he throws the staff at Frodo,
and laughs as it hits him in the head and shoulder* You're in
the army of Mordor now, halfling! Now get a move on! Show your
Master what you are made of! Double time! Double time! Keep the
pace! *he jeers and slaps his thigh*
Frodo: *He staggers backwards with a cry as the staff hits him.
He waits a moment, grimacing and clutching his shoulder, then
picks the staff up and obeys the order.*
Alwan the Trainer: March! March, maggot! One, two, three, four,
one, two, three, four, lift those legs or we will whip you more!
Dirar: Aye, maggot! Keep moving! You're in the Army of Mordor
now! When we whip you into shape, perhaps we shall send you west
to fight against the pale-faced Strawheads! Collect their severed
heads and make a necklace out of their teeth; you shall look just
like a little orc! Now march, slug! March!
Alwan the Trainer: Look at his fat little belly, Corporal Dirar!
Soft, isn't it? Look at the pig! The scum from the Shire! In quite
a hurry to get to Lugburz, wasn't he? Wonder if he is in a hurry
to get back? *he laughs*
Dirar: Let him run around the Dark Tower! Let the little swine
run around the Dark Tower! Or the orcs shall butcher him and serve
him up fine!
Alwan the Trainer: You are going to learn to like us, Shire rat!
Oh yes, you shall never forget either of our names! Now as you
march, say this: "One, two, three, four, one, two, three,
four, I love the Shire but I love Mordor more!"
Dirar: *He cheers in derision and laughs mockingly at the halfling*
Aye! And mayhaps when you get back to the Shire, you shall run
back to Mordor to grovel and snivel at the feet of your Master
like the misbegotten cur that you are!
Alwan the Trainer: Halt, halfling! *he shouts* At ease!
Frodo: *His ears ringing with their insults, Frodo catches the
order through a hazy whirl in his mind. He cannot bring himself
to say it...he says weakly as he marches* One, two, three, four....
Alwan the Trainer: Now, halfling, when you stand at ease, you
do this. Show him, corporal, show him so he will learn!
Dirar: *Dirar holds his hands behind his back, looking straight
ahead, his legs slightly apart, chest thrust forward. He relaxes
and commands* Do it now, halfling! Or I'll whip you just for the
fun of it!
Frodo: *Frodo drags his body into this position, though his legs
tremble and burn with the effort, and his chest is so tight it
hurts to thrust it forward.*
Alwan the Trainer: Doesn't he look fine, Corporal, standing there
before us like that? He looks like one of the Mordor orcs, except
he hasn't gotten the long, spindly arms of them.
Alwan the Trainer: *He looks straight at Frodo* Perhaps some time
on the rack at Lugburz will correct that deficiency. Wouldn't
you like to go back to Lugburz, Friend of Sauron? That could be
arranged *He leers at Frodo*
Frodo: *Tries to keep the frenzied panic from showing in his face...he
assumes an expressionless mask.*
Alwan the Trainer: Corporal Dirar, I understand our "friend"
here *he emphasizes the word "friend"* is quite a favorite
of the Master. In fact, I have heard that the Master wanted to
make him court jester. I think he is humorous, don't you, Corporal
Dirar?
Dirar: Aye, quite amusing *he chuckles* I can understand why the
Master was loath to give him up.
Alwan the Trainer: Aye, quite loath, I hear, and with the talents
they have in the Tower, Sauron's Friend could have been kept around
for a long, long time for the entertainment of all of Sauron's
court! Unfortunately, I never got to see him with his little light.
Alas, what a misfortune that was. Perhaps he could carry a candle
and a lantern all the way back to the Shire and pretend that it
was his precious star-light. What do you think of that, Friend
of Sauron?
Frodo: *I should be used to this, Frodo thinks. He remembers being
dragged out in chains before whole crowds of jeering orcs and
Easterlings--by Sam. At least there are only two tormentors here...and
they are not hurting him...yet.* At least he has a chance to stand
still...he does not reply, but stares into space and waits for
them to finish taunting him.*
Frodo: *Suddenly he notices a burning sensation on his hand...he
looks down and his ring is glowing. He hears the familiar mocking
laughter of Sauron, like knives in his ears, and shudders.*
Alwan the Trainer: I should have let you die in the dungeon at
Lugburz, halfling, where you were my charge for a time, but I
had orders to refrain from killing you. How I would like to have
impaled you upon a spear with your guts hanging out and dangling
down your legs in the presence of my old army company, or slowly
tortured you in the manner of the East. Bury you up to your neck
in sand and slowly crush you with rocks, or tie you in the heat
of the sun and smear honey all over your body and watch as the
ants devoured you slowly. Ah, so delightfully slow! It is the
way of the East. You would be honored to die by it, but I obey
my Master and did not kill you.
Frodo: *Frodo snaps his head toward the guard and hisses quietly*
You came pretty close to your wish if I remember correctly.
Alwan the Trainer: Or perhaps take my dagger and skin you slowly,
piece by piece, bit by bit, leaving just a bit of skin on you
to keep you alive for a while. Then I would watch you die slowly
as my men hurled dung and urine upon your body and mocked you
as you lay there dying. Ah, halfling, how I would have liked to
have made an end to you! You would have destroyed our Master if
you could have, and in doing so, brought great harm to the men
of the East. I hate you, Shire filth!
Frodo: *When the guard mentions the Quest, a grim smile appears
on Frodo's face. Perhaps some honor remains in him, if they still
hate him so much here. They know where his true loyalties lie...and
their scorn is a badge of honor for him. He nods slowly, and only
whispers* I know
Alwan the Trainer: The staff that you have been given is to be
your weapon. You will keep it, so learn to use it. When you are
alone, practice with it, and always keep your candle lit in your
lamp. It will be the Phial of the Elf-witch to you.
Alwan the Trainer: Now, snaga, you will report back to us promptly
at two in the afternoon. Expect to do more than you did now. Expect
to march for two hours, saying all the time to keep rhythm: One,
two, three, four, I love the Shire, but love Mordor more. One
more thing, halfling before you are dismissed. You will salute
me each time you come in my presence. Attention!
Dirar: This is how it is done, O Most Loyal and Beloved Friend
of Sauron. *Dirar thrusts his chest out suddenly, and clasps his
hand, clenched into his fist, against his heart.* Remember to
do this every time you report for duty in the Army of Mordor.
*he laughs*
Frodo: *Resigned, Frodo imitates Dirar's movements and salutes
Alwan, the man who brutally tortured him.*
Alwan the Trainer: Dismissed! Now run to your hall, halfling!
Run! *He says and cracks the flail*
Alwan the Trainer: *The two Easterlings laugh as they see Frodo
staggering back towards Baggins Hall*
Frodo: *Frodo collapses into the first chair he sees, his face
scrunching up and his eyes stinging. He covers his face with his
hands and sits silently for a while. Then he looks up frantically
for someone he knows, hoping for a drink of water. He is reminded
of the hunger and thirst of crossing the plains of Gorgoroth with
Sam. Seeing no one, Frodo hobbles to the kitchen and asks a servant
for a glass of water, almost crying.*
Rian: *Rian sees Frodo, panting and heaving and looking horrible.
She quickly fetches him a cup filled with water and hands it to
him*
Frodo: Thank you *he croaks and downs the cup of water without
taking a breath. Simultaneously with her words, pain shoots through
his chest. He stops drinking and grips a nearby chair, gasping.
When the pain passes he drinks again, more carefully this time,
then hands the glass back to her* Thank you *he says again, forgetting
that he thanked her the first time.*
Rian: *Rian takes the cup from the halfling's hand and looks at
him sympathetically* My lord, you must rest a while. But, um...
*she falters, for she does not want to torment the poor halfling
any more. At last she says softly* do remember your appointment
with Master Guntha...
Frodo: Oh! *he groans, and sits on the floor with his head in
his hands, too exhausted to think of climbing onto anything. Then
he looks up at her* When is it again?
Rian: It should be now... *she grimaces* I am sorry, my lord...
Do you want me to help you into your sitting room?
Frodo: *She is the most beautiful sight in the world right now,
a familiar face when his erstwhile home has become another Lugburz.
He smiles gratefully to her, nodding, and holds out a hand for
her to help him up.*
Rian: *She takes his hand, and helps him rise to his feet, then
slowly leads him to the sitting room. When they arrive, she says*
Here you are, my lord; perhaps you will be allowed to rest for
a while. *"At least, I hope so" - she thinks, but hope
does not exist when fate is controlled by Mordor.*
Frodo: I wouldn't count on it *he says miserably, but then manages
a polite smile at her*
Rian: *She opens the door for Frodo and leads him inside, stepping
away when she sees Guntha and bows before him.*
Narrator: *When Frodo had first met Guntha, the man carried the
marks of a careworn traveler, dirty, disheveled, reeking of sweat
and covered in road dust. Now four days later, Guntha is clean
and resplendent in a fine blue tunic and tan breeches. Seated
at the table in Frodo's sitting room, he taps a finger impatiently
upon the table.*
Guntha: Now, shakh, it is most regrettable to note that you are
most unceremoniously late. Guntha not like that. Make way to be
on time in future!
Frodo: *Frodo makes a halfhearted attempt at the salute the guards
taught him, then climbs into a chair, wincing, for he is sore.*
I'm sorry.
Guntha: Now why you carry staff into sitting room? You make war
with Guntha? Not polite, shakh. Guntha not happy
Rian: *Seeing that there are no special orders from either Guntha
or Frodo, Rian bows and leaves the room to get tea and cakes for
the both of them.*
Guntha: *Guntha taps the table with a forefinger again* Shakh,
sorry, you say? Do you not make learn where you came to be on
time!
Frodo: *frowns, trying to understand the broken Common Speech*
....What? I...I will try to be on time tomorrow. *he concedes*
Guntha: *Taps finger over and over on table, becoming very impatient*
What you no understand Guntha when he make talk? Guntha not pleased
with shakh. Are you of hearing slow?
Frodo: *faintly* I'm sorry...I understand.
Rian: *Soon, Rian returns with a tray of tea and cakes for Frodo
and Guntha. As she walks, she gnaws her lower lip, worried about
all the new orders and her lord's new "advisor" - she
remembers the old one, Vartang, quite well. She shudders slightly,
as she puts the tray down on the table, stepping back and bowing
to the halfling and the man seated*
Guntha: *He stops tapping his finger and lifts up his cup of tea
that had been cooling and drinking from the cup. Then he puts
it back down on the table.* Shakh, Great Master make present to
you. Wondrously marvelous present it be. You will take back to
place where you began, along with all the other presents Master
makes to you. In every room where you sit at peace drinking tea
be a clock from the East. You will take all of them back to place
where you began so you will know how the clock draws to the hour,
to the quarter, to the half, and back and forwards in endless
cycles, and you will remember Great Master spared you time to
look at clock.
Frodo: Back to the Shire? Clocks from the east?....This will go
on even there?
Guntha: Aye, shakh, and you will remember who holds your life
in His hands. Even there, shakh, even there, so count the seconds,
the minutes, the hours, the days, the months and the years and
remember the Master of Middle Earth.
Frodo: *Frodo closes his eyes tightly, his right hand closing
over the hand that bears his ring.*