Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. I just like to write about them.

Man of Quality: Chapter 6

        "Pippin!" Faramir cried as he dropped to his knees holding the halfling to his breast. Aragorn immediately followed crouched on the other side of the small Guard of the Citadel, checking where the blood was coming from.

        "Leave it. It is just a scratch, Strider," Pippin breathed heavily, looking into his Lord's eyes. "Worry about Frodo. Men barged into your chambers expecting to find you there. I...I was hiding in the shadows," Frodo's youngest cousin conitnued, clutching at Strider's tunic with his good arm, "Someone heard me, but did not see me. They sliced through the air with their sword. They have Arwen and...and Eowyn!"

        "We know," Faramir said as he schooled his anger in front of one of the Perinnath, brushing back blond curls from Pippin's forehead.

        "Be still, Pippin," Aragorn said as he tore through the already separated material to get at the wound. Aragorn then ripped the hobbit's shirttail needing something to wipe the oozing blood from around the wounded arm. Pippin flinched at the slight pressure.

        "Do not look, Pippin," Faramir advised to his friend, holding the hobbits head, keeping his eyes focused on him. He spotted a tear falling down the small cheek, and wiped it gently away with his thumb.

        "Pippin," Aragorn spoke softly as he spied Faramir's tender caress. How could he ever doubt that this man, brother to Boromir, could ever bring harm to Frodo? "Gandalf would be very proud of you," the King continued, splitting another strip of cloth from Pippin's shirt,"You definitely have a flesh wound, more than a scratch. I am going to bind the wound until we can get you to the healing houses to have it tended to."

        Pippin twisted in Faramir's arms,"No! I will not go. My duty is to stand beside you. Those men were after you. They have already taken prisoner's! I will not stand by...I just will not...I...," he paused as Aragorn lifted a finger to lips, hushing him.

        Faramir looked into Aragorn's face. Even in this dire situation, he could tell that those steel blues were dancing as the King looked upon his friend. "Such devotion," Faramir said aloud, smiling to himself. Were it not for this certain Shireling, Faramir would not have come to know such an innocent, but brave, race of people.

        "Yes. Especially this little one," Strider answered the Captain. "Now," Strider's attention on the little one,"you want to help?" he questioned with a nod from his charge as he still had his fingers to Pippin's lips. "Then tell me how many there were and who..." he sighed, "who were their prisoners?"

        Inhaling slowly, Pippin began to tell what he had witnessed.

        Continuing his vigil at Frodo's side, Sam leapt up from his cushioned chair when he heard commotion coming from Strider's room. Quietly as a hobbit from the Shire could, Sam padded across the stone in-laid floor, traversing soft splashes of color every couple of feet until he found himself pressed against the wall listening to the sounds on the other side.

        "Where is HE!" the muffled voice yelled as his efforts to locate the King was proving ill.

        "No one is in here. The room is totally empty!" one of the other masked men answered his leader.

        The leader's eyes narrowed as he looked around the lit chambers. He walked outside the room and immediately returned dragging in a bound and gagged woman, shielding his body with hers, a long blade pressing at her throat.

        "I have got your lovely wife, King Elessar. I will kill her if you do not show yourself!" the masked man warned.

        In the next room, Sam's mouth fell open, suppressing a gasp as he backed away from the wall. His eyes darted about the room Frodo and he occupied for anything to use as a weapon. Turning to make his way back to his master, Sam tripped on one of the many rugs that decorated the chamber, landing sideways unable to stop the breaking of the vase as it hit the stone floor.

        Sam picked himself up off the floor, racing towards Frodo not caring to be quiet. His hobbit sense told him that the people in the next room heard that crash, and he had no time to waste before someone had discovered them.

        "Mr. Frodo?" Sam spoke, as he brushed his calloused hand across his master's forehead. Getting no response, the gardener spoke again,"Mr..." Sam was interrupted as the door was knocked opened and strong arms encircled his waist, flinging the stout hobbit to one side. It was like slow motion with the last word coming out of his mouth,"FRODO!"

        "Toulouse! I found one of them halflings!" the masked man yelled through his mask, peering out the door.

        Sam peered at the guard wearily as he got on all fours, cupping one of the vase shards that had splintered into a million pieces into his hand before climbing to his feet. He ran towards his master, again running into interference as a sword stopped him short of his goal.

        A moment later, a tall man clad in black, emerged from the hallway into the occupied chamber, peering down at the hobbit held at bay with his associates sword. As he approached further into the room, that was when he beheld the sight of another hobbit in the bed.

        "Leave him alone," Sam warned, his cupped hand fondling the shard.

        "What is his problem, halfling?" Toulouse demanded, finding no apparent reason this other hobbit was abed.

        "He has a fever. He can't be moved. By order of the..." Sam was cut off.

        "King. King Elessar. Our salvation?" sarcasm dripping in every word. "Or was it by this Perinnath?" Toulouse questioned, peeling the coverlet from the inert form, Frodo's arms slapping heavily as they hit the mattress.

        Frodo moaned as the sensation of pins and needles vibrated through every muscle in his arms. Sensing someone above him, the gentle hobbit furrowed his eyebrows together.

        Toulouse, noticing the halfling grimace, found the newly bandaged hand and squeezed it hard, a tinge of red staining the wrapping.

        Frodo's eyes flew open to the new sensation of pain, spying the man standing over him. The missing finger was healing nicely, he remembered Aragorn saying the previous day. Now, he feared, it would need tending to again. He actually did not feel pain, but pressure.

        "So, this is our mighty saviour," Toulouse scowled bending close to the Ring-bearer peering at the mal-nourished body beholding his sight. "An invalid?"

        Frodo's breathing became rapid, not with fear for himself, but fear of what may have happended to Sam. He could not see his friend, not having control over his limbs to be able to turn his head. Then, as if Sam heard his silent plea, a familiar voice filled the air.

        "I told ye, he is sick. Cover 'im back up," the gardener told the intruder.

        The man glared back at Sam. "Alphus!" he called, throwing the quilt at the stout hobbit.

        "Yes sir!" the man with the sword at Sam's abdomen answered.

        "Have this one carry the savior to the next room and put them with the others. No food, no water. And if he fails, kill the invalid. He won't make it without water anyway," he commanded watching the halfling's face change from anger to concern as the intruder exited the room.

        "Well," the one called Alphus said,"you heard him, carry the invalid," smirking to himself as he doubted the stout hobbit could do such a task.

        Sam quickly pocketed the shard he had been holding onto, rushing to Frodo's side. Confusion was written all over his master's face as the gardener prepared the gentle hobbit to be carried. "Now, I know you may not remember it, Mr. Frodo, but I tarried up that mountain with you on my back. I think I can make it to the next room. Hold on," he said cupping Frodo's face with his hands, a gesture of comfort. He knew that Frodo had heard the last statement from the terrorist. The Shireling then hefted the lightweight gentle hobbit into a sitting position, then in one quick movement, had Frodo draped across his shoulders. Getting his balance, he walked out the door being followed by the man with it's sword at his back. That was when he heard a whisper coming from the dark. It was Master Peregrin. He recognize that voice or whisper anywhere. Being on the journey honed Sam's hearing to be able to pick up the different pitches in his comrades voices. Even at a whisper, which they had to do a lot of.

        "What was that?" another masked man asked as he vacated the King's chambers with one of the Citadel Guards blindfolded, held prisoner.

        "I don't hear anything," Alphus said, slashing at the dark. "Where are you going with him?" he inquired.

        "Toulouse wants us to leave a personalized message with the Captain," the other man said before Sam was ushered into the room, once again at the encouragement of a sword at his back.

        Pippin had told Aragorn and Faramir everything that had transpired as he sat crouched in the dark for over an hour. He then followed the men, keeping to the shadows. "I am sorry, Aragorn, for the guard. I had never met him before," Pippin said sadly, his head bent down hiding the tears springing forth from his eyes.

        "I am sorry. I, too, did not know his name. He will have an honorable burial," Aragorn said solemnly.

        "I knew him. He was my confidant," Faramir stated. "He was also working with me to obtain information about these renegades," the Captain revealed.

        The King looked at the Captain accusingly,"You knew this was going to happen?"

        "My Lord, I was imprisoned in my own chambers. You would not listen to me after just what happened. The guard was relaying messages to me since my arrest. We had no idea that they were to hit tonight. After what had happened this evening, they probably decided to take advantage of the situation," Faramir defended himself.

        The Ranger clenched his hands so tightly, that his knuckles were turning white. Pippin saw this from his viewpoint. He quickly chimed in,"Strider...My Lord. Faramir would not hurt Frodo. You know this. I, for one, cannot believe you would even think it. Merry agrees with me. It was all a misunderstanding. Now, we cannot undo what has happened. Frodo will recover, but the Queen will not. She was not standing on her own accord. She had to be carried. Now," he continued, shakily getting to his feet,"we need an army to get in there and rescue her and..."

        "Lady Eowyn," a new voice echoed, finishing his sentence. Another blond curly haired hobbit emerged from the shadow, followed by Legolas and a very angry looking dwarf.

        "Merry!" Pippin cried, collapsing into his cousin's arms as the honoray Rohirrim reached his injured kinsman.

        "I came looking for you when you did not come back. I know your continous talking would have put Sam on edge and sent you packing, but..." Merry was distracted by the bandage on his cousin's arm. "What is this? Strider, what have you done to him? Will he be all right?" the hobbit kept questioning, not letting Aragorn get a word in edgewise.

        "It is nothing, Merry. Aragorn bandaged my arm temporarily, until we rescue our friends."

        "Temporarily? Pip, you're bleeding. You need tended to now. What in the world do you mean treating your guards this way?"

        King Elessar knew that Merry was only concerned for his cousin's well being, but he went a little too far, accusing him of not advising Pippin to get proper medical attention. Pippin took care of that.

        "Merry, I told him to bandage it until we rescued our friends. Please, understand?" he questioned, laying his good hand on his kinsman shoulder.

        "Together again?" the blond haired Elf said as he approached the group, waiting until the bickering subsided.

        "It seems so," Estel said, then turning to Faramir he said,"Well, Captain, we need men. Are you prepared to follow my lead?"

        "Already ahead of you, my lord," Faramir said as he disappeared into his chambers, a flickering of light dancing on his walls. Within moments he was back.

        "Well?" King Elessar asked. He did not wait for an answer. A squadron of thirty men dressed in armor could be heard clanking as they ran to the Captain's chambers. Once there, they stopped remaining at attention.

        "Signal?" the King asked, smiling at the Captain of the Guard.

        "Signal," he replied flatly. "Reporting for duty, my lord?"

        With a nod, the King reinstated Faramir to duty and explained to the men what had taken place up until the guards had arrived. "Remember, the renegades have several prisoner's, including the Queen, Lady Eowyn and the Ring-bearer. They believe they have the upper hand, a bargaining chip. I will not succumb to threats."

tbc