Cold Fear
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien who invented the wonderful world of Middle-earth.
Silence. Extremely slowly Frodo realized that he awoke, was still alive. Still he was lacking the strength to open his eyes, and he felt a pounding and tormenting pain on the back of his neck. He was freezing all over and arduously opened his eyes. There was red light all around him and he asked himself where he was to be found.
Under great effort he managed to turn his head and felt some strength return to him. It seemed to be a chamber, he was lying on the hard and cold floor and on the ceiling there hung a glowing lantern from which the spooky light spread.
His backpack and his half torn cloak were lying next to him, he himself was placed before a pile of dirty rags. This place he had never seen before.
Feverishly he tried to remember. Stench and darkness had been there, a horrible monster and he had heard Sam calling for him before he had felt an aching stab wound on the back of his neck and therefore lost consciousness in the end.
Surely he was not in that place anymore, but somewhere different. Moaning he tried to sit upright, but suddenly noticed his cold and numb hands being bound.
So he was captured. But where was Sam?
With the last strength that was left he somehow managed to sit up to look around. The gloomy light let him look at massive walls from stone which separated him from freedom. Tall and narrow windows and a trap door in the ground he could perceive, but there was nothing else. He was alone.
He felt so cold and he longed to cover his shoulders with his cloak, but it was impossible.
Surely he found himself in the tower which he and Sam had looked at from outside. Sam. What if he was dead...
Suddenly he felt hot at once and he began to sweat. The ring!
Hastily he gripped his neck. No chain. In panic he tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, but didn't succeed because of the fetters. Tears came to his eyes. This could not be, the ring must not be lost...
There was nothing. No chain, no ring. Nothing.
He was fighting for breath and felt choked. Tears were running down his cheeks. He had failed, was captured, lost and in the hands of the Dark Lord.
"Sam..." he whimpered. "My dear Sam..."
If he only was not dead!
He was so desperate that he did not hear the steps down on the stairs and in the hallway until it was too late. Only when the ladder was leaned on and the next moment with a loud noise the trap door fell on the floor, he was roused and raised his head.
In front of himself he saw the ugly grimace of a mean orc who looked at him with a malicious smile and in mortal agony he backed away from him as far as possible.
"Ah, still alive, little rat? Should be happy that you're here and not in Shelob's web - but... Shagrat's mood is not the best today!"
Slavering the orc stared at Frodo and came nearer, reveling in Frodo's obvious fear.
"What's it, don't you like it here with us? Must stay here a while, at least until there are orders from Lugburz again!"
Frodo's heart was beating fast and the orc kneeled down in front of him. The hobbit leaned in a corner on the wall. He was trapped.
"I wanna know what you have! What is it? Where is it?"
The orc's stinking breath took all air away for Frodo to breathe.
"Speak, come on! I wanna know!"
Frodo swallowed and stared at the orc with fearful eyes. If he only would finally leave!
"What's up? Unable to talk?"
The orc gazed at him questioning, but Frodo could not move because of terror.
"What?!" he roared and slapped him raging.
"Do I have to get furious?" This he was already. He was panting and laid his paws around Frodo's throat.
Suddenly Frodo shook his head panically. "I... I don't know w-what you mean..."
"Eh, Gorbag! What'ye doing there?" They heard a grumbling voice from below.
"Well done, now he's coming. Have fun!" Gorbag stated and let go of Frodo, rose and waited.
With echoing steps another orc came up from below, climbed up the ladder and finally stood in the chamber with his legs apart.
"Eh, you shouldn't be here without asking me before, you rat!" Shagrat growled full of wrath.
"I... I just wanted to see if..." Gorbag began, but then was interrupted by a dismayed cry. Frodo had seen that Shagrat held a whip in his hand.
"Oh, the little fam has a say? Then we'll begin!"
With widened eyes Frodo stared at Shagrat, a huge bloke, who looked extremely aggressive and did not seem to hesitate longer than necessary.
Fast and taking long strides he came towards him. Frodo wanted to back away, but there was the intransigent wall in his back. In the other hand Shagrat had a bottle which he put to Frodo's mouth and he only needed to raise his hand in a threatening gesture to make Frodo drink of the bitter, smelly fluid and the hobbit coughed pitifully. It burned like fire and he felt sick.
"Don't like that? Just wait and see what else you won't like either! Now, come on, strip him!" Shagrat glanced at Gorbag invitingly and Frodo screamed in panic when he was dragged up by them and thrown at the ground in the middle of the room.
Carelessly Shagrat cut the ropes around Frodo's wrists and the hobbit didn't know what was happening when they were quickly tugging the clothes from his body. Then they found the mithril shirt.
"Now have a look at this! Maybe this is the treasure that Lugburz is looking for!" Gorbag muttered with glowing eyes.
"Nay. Too big. But this is also pretty nice!" Shagrat replied.
Frodo showed no fight. He hoped they would soon let go of him again, but both together they were much stronger than he was, so he didn't even try to tear off their grips. They scratched his skin, tore his shirt, Shagrat grabbed his hair and Gorbag kicked him at the side so that everything went black before his eyes.
Finally they let him be and searched his clothes. Frodo remained lying and panting and watched them idly. Then at once a thought came to his mind and wearily he scrambled to his feet. But before could just come near to the open trap door, Shagrat pushed him down from behind.
"Naaay, you maggot! You'll stay where you are!" he snarled and looked at him from head to feet. Now Frodo felt really wholly bare.
"Cursed, where do you hide it?" the orc hissed.
They were seeking for the ring, Frodo was sure. But he didn't have it anymore. But - what had happened to it when they were searching it? Shouldn't they have found it before?
"Where?" A sharp growl escaped Shagrat's throat.
Frodo began to tremble. This giant made him feel more than frightened.
"Where?!" Shagrat roared and placed his knee on the hobbit's chest. All air came out of Frodo's lungs. Begging he glanced at the Ork who bared his teeth to a mean smile.
"I can even get more nasty!"
Frodo swallowed in despair. What was he supposed to do now?
Finally he drew in some breath and whispered soundlessly: "I don't know..."
Shagrat hesitated. The hobbit's reaction surprised him.
"What does that mean?" he grumbled unwillingly. "Why don't you know?"
Frodo wanted to answer, but suddenly someone shouted from below: "What'ye doing?"
"Shut up, Snaga, and go and look for the Elf warrior!" Shagrat answered briefly and concentrated on Frodo again. The hobbit felt his heart beating even faster. Elf warrior? But first he must get rid of Shagrat.
"It's... it's gone.. I don't have it anymore", he explained arduously and was lifted up ungently and shaken by Shagrat.
"And where is it?" the orc growled.
Frodo shook his head. "I don't know..."
"You cursed maggot, don't lie to me!" Frodo was terrified and suddenly fell. Before he knew what was happening he heard the crack and felt a burning pain on his back.
He jerked and covered his head with his hands protectingly. Again he felt a stroke of the whip and cried out from pain.
Fearfully he curled up and heard Gorbag giggling.
Frodo felt ashamed, there he was, lying naked and captured by orcs somewhere in Mordor and tears came to his eyes.
But suddenly he perceived steps and the croaking of wood, then the trap door was shut again and he raised his head.
They were gone. But it didn't take long and the astonished hobbit heard shouting from below. Soon everything was quiet again.
He sat upright and looked around. They had left his clothes. Slowly he rose, lifted up his Elvencloak and put it around his shoulders. Weeping he sat down on the ground in front of his clothes and clutched the mithril shirt. Tears were falling onto the slighty shimmering metal and he hid his face in his hands.
What should happen now? Should this go on forever with these orcs and their questioning and attacks?
How should he ever escape from this place?
He longed for Sam very much, a little comfort in his loneliness and something to eat. The first sickness had just passed and suddenly he felt the torturing hunger, but he didn't really care.
He had failed. He had lost the ring, lost Sam and lost his freedom. And the Valar knew what should happen to him next. Those horror stories he had heard about torture and death seemed just too possible and very near. If it should go on like that forever, he preferred dying.
He hardly had thought this when one of the Orcs returned. He seemed to do it secretly, for Frodo had not heard any sound until he came.
It was Gorbag. When Frodo beholded the dagger in his hand, he felt hot from agony. But Gorbag did not seem to plan an attack, but stayed where he was and finally grumbled: "Nothing's happening, I just want your stuff there. I'll be gone soon."
Frodo could hardly believe what he heard, but wiped away the last tears and nodded. Then Gorbag came towards him, still trying to make no noise, and took all his things. He dragged away the mithril shirt from Frodo and also grabbed the Elvencloak. Frodo let it happen without defense, this bloke should disappear again as fast as possible.
Unexpectedly there came a thought to his mind and he quickly asked Gorbag who already turned to leave.
"What will happen to me?"
The orc stood still and turned about. He glanced at the hobbit with his dark eyes.
"You'll go to Lugburz."
"Lugburz?"
Gorbag nodded.
"Shagrat said the lord himself wanted to see you in his tower."
Frodo's heart stopped beating for an instant and he could not breathe. He was very aware of what that meant.
"But I don't have it anymore! Please..." he begged with a hoarse voice, but without looking at him again Gorbag went down again and left the hobbit alone in his fear and dismay.
"No..." he whispered shocked. He shouldn't have asked.
But there was no time to despair entirely, for below a turmoil broke out and he heard Shagrat roaring furiously in Orcish.
Frightened Frodo listened to the noise that faded away at once. A short time later he heard a malicious laughter and there was silence again.
He had to get away. Now. In terror he remembered Boromir's words: "You will beg for death before the end!"
The warrior had been right.
Desperately Frodo admitted that his situation was hopelessness. He didn't care what this rabble of orcs intended to do with his clothes, but probably Sauron himself had given some order.
Sauron. Fright grabbed him with icy fingers and Frodo felt he must go insane.
But what had Shagrat said about an Elf warrior? Here there was no Elf warrior! But maybe this was...
The walls echoed from fast steps. There was someone coming again.
The next moment the door flung open and Shagrat's grimace, showing hatred, appeared in the ground.
"Gorbag won't disturb anymore, so the two of us will have much fun now! I'll tell you something: I wanna know with which filthy Elf you have come! He's still around here!"
Frodo bit his lips. He had already hoped not to have a reason to fear something, but Shagrat had a dagger which he raised threatening.
"Are you frightened, little rat? This is what you should be. But I'll tell you something: If you don't tell me, then you'll tell in Lugburz and this won't be that pleasant!"
Suddenly he sprang towards Frodo who had risen and pushed him forcefully to the wall. Grinning he held his dagger to Frodo's throat.
"Come on, speak! Who is that Elf?"
"I was alone..." Frodo whispered silently, staring at Shagrat with a fixed gaze. If his suddenly waking hope was not all in vain, then he must lie now to prevent Shagrat from hunting.
"Alone? You weren't alone!"
The pressure of the sharp knife-edge increased.
"The spider got him..." he murmured soundlessly and suddenly felt a blow in his face.
"She got him? This I'll find out..." A second disillusioning time Shagrat slapped him and Frodo's nose began bleeding, then the orc turned away.
"Don't get your hopes up too soon! I'll be back!" he hissed and vanished.
Sobbing Frodo sank to the ground and weakly crawled to the hep of rags in the corner where he had lain before.
Nobody would manage to rescue him. It was hopeless.
He felt so empty, felt nothing, no fear, no despair. Nothing.
He had lost every feeling for time and didn't perceive anything, neither the argument Shagrat and Snaga had, nor Snagas cursing.
If eternity felt like that, it had to be horrible.
He closed his eyes and curled up unhappily to wait.
Immeasurably much later it seemed then he was suddenly drawn from lethargy. A faint voice reached his ear and it sounded kind of helpless. He could not understand anything, but the simple thought of not being alone contained a little comfort, thinking of the unknown Elf warrior or another good person having found the way to this hideous place.
There was someone singing. Singing in this place!
Without thinking he exclaimed hopefully: "Sam? Is that you, Sam?"
The singing stopped, but some orc took the word.
"Ho la! You up there, you dunghill rat! Stop your squeaking, or I'll come and deal with you. D'you hear?"
Full of fear Frodo did not answer.
"All right. But I'll come and have a look at you all the same, and see what you're up to."
The next moment he was there. He didn't know him who was heading for him with the whip in his hand, but the voice sounded like Snaga's.
Frodo lowered his head and just felt the burning pain, but still kept his eyes closed when he heard shouting, and he didn't move. A loud thud followed and then he heard a voice, a warm, friendly voice, and was lifted up very gently.
"Frodo! Mr. Frodo, my dear! It's Sam, I've come!"
When Frodo opened his eyes, he looked at Sam's eyes, filled with tears, and hardly believed what he saw.
"Am I still dreaming?" he muttered. "But the other dreams were horrible."
But it was true.
"You're not dreaming at all, Master", said Sam. "It's real. It's me. I've come."
Happiness spread all over his body and he clutched his friend, never willing to let go of him again.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien who invented the wonderful world of Middle-earth.
Silence. Extremely slowly Frodo realized that he awoke, was still alive. Still he was lacking the strength to open his eyes, and he felt a pounding and tormenting pain on the back of his neck. He was freezing all over and arduously opened his eyes. There was red light all around him and he asked himself where he was to be found.
Under great effort he managed to turn his head and felt some strength return to him. It seemed to be a chamber, he was lying on the hard and cold floor and on the ceiling there hung a glowing lantern from which the spooky light spread.
His backpack and his half torn cloak were lying next to him, he himself was placed before a pile of dirty rags. This place he had never seen before.
Feverishly he tried to remember. Stench and darkness had been there, a horrible monster and he had heard Sam calling for him before he had felt an aching stab wound on the back of his neck and therefore lost consciousness in the end.
Surely he was not in that place anymore, but somewhere different. Moaning he tried to sit upright, but suddenly noticed his cold and numb hands being bound.
So he was captured. But where was Sam?
With the last strength that was left he somehow managed to sit up to look around. The gloomy light let him look at massive walls from stone which separated him from freedom. Tall and narrow windows and a trap door in the ground he could perceive, but there was nothing else. He was alone.
He felt so cold and he longed to cover his shoulders with his cloak, but it was impossible.
Surely he found himself in the tower which he and Sam had looked at from outside. Sam. What if he was dead...
Suddenly he felt hot at once and he began to sweat. The ring!
Hastily he gripped his neck. No chain. In panic he tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, but didn't succeed because of the fetters. Tears came to his eyes. This could not be, the ring must not be lost...
There was nothing. No chain, no ring. Nothing.
He was fighting for breath and felt choked. Tears were running down his cheeks. He had failed, was captured, lost and in the hands of the Dark Lord.
"Sam..." he whimpered. "My dear Sam..."
If he only was not dead!
He was so desperate that he did not hear the steps down on the stairs and in the hallway until it was too late. Only when the ladder was leaned on and the next moment with a loud noise the trap door fell on the floor, he was roused and raised his head.
In front of himself he saw the ugly grimace of a mean orc who looked at him with a malicious smile and in mortal agony he backed away from him as far as possible.
"Ah, still alive, little rat? Should be happy that you're here and not in Shelob's web - but... Shagrat's mood is not the best today!"
Slavering the orc stared at Frodo and came nearer, reveling in Frodo's obvious fear.
"What's it, don't you like it here with us? Must stay here a while, at least until there are orders from Lugburz again!"
Frodo's heart was beating fast and the orc kneeled down in front of him. The hobbit leaned in a corner on the wall. He was trapped.
"I wanna know what you have! What is it? Where is it?"
The orc's stinking breath took all air away for Frodo to breathe.
"Speak, come on! I wanna know!"
Frodo swallowed and stared at the orc with fearful eyes. If he only would finally leave!
"What's up? Unable to talk?"
The orc gazed at him questioning, but Frodo could not move because of terror.
"What?!" he roared and slapped him raging.
"Do I have to get furious?" This he was already. He was panting and laid his paws around Frodo's throat.
Suddenly Frodo shook his head panically. "I... I don't know w-what you mean..."
"Eh, Gorbag! What'ye doing there?" They heard a grumbling voice from below.
"Well done, now he's coming. Have fun!" Gorbag stated and let go of Frodo, rose and waited.
With echoing steps another orc came up from below, climbed up the ladder and finally stood in the chamber with his legs apart.
"Eh, you shouldn't be here without asking me before, you rat!" Shagrat growled full of wrath.
"I... I just wanted to see if..." Gorbag began, but then was interrupted by a dismayed cry. Frodo had seen that Shagrat held a whip in his hand.
"Oh, the little fam has a say? Then we'll begin!"
With widened eyes Frodo stared at Shagrat, a huge bloke, who looked extremely aggressive and did not seem to hesitate longer than necessary.
Fast and taking long strides he came towards him. Frodo wanted to back away, but there was the intransigent wall in his back. In the other hand Shagrat had a bottle which he put to Frodo's mouth and he only needed to raise his hand in a threatening gesture to make Frodo drink of the bitter, smelly fluid and the hobbit coughed pitifully. It burned like fire and he felt sick.
"Don't like that? Just wait and see what else you won't like either! Now, come on, strip him!" Shagrat glanced at Gorbag invitingly and Frodo screamed in panic when he was dragged up by them and thrown at the ground in the middle of the room.
Carelessly Shagrat cut the ropes around Frodo's wrists and the hobbit didn't know what was happening when they were quickly tugging the clothes from his body. Then they found the mithril shirt.
"Now have a look at this! Maybe this is the treasure that Lugburz is looking for!" Gorbag muttered with glowing eyes.
"Nay. Too big. But this is also pretty nice!" Shagrat replied.
Frodo showed no fight. He hoped they would soon let go of him again, but both together they were much stronger than he was, so he didn't even try to tear off their grips. They scratched his skin, tore his shirt, Shagrat grabbed his hair and Gorbag kicked him at the side so that everything went black before his eyes.
Finally they let him be and searched his clothes. Frodo remained lying and panting and watched them idly. Then at once a thought came to his mind and wearily he scrambled to his feet. But before could just come near to the open trap door, Shagrat pushed him down from behind.
"Naaay, you maggot! You'll stay where you are!" he snarled and looked at him from head to feet. Now Frodo felt really wholly bare.
"Cursed, where do you hide it?" the orc hissed.
They were seeking for the ring, Frodo was sure. But he didn't have it anymore. But - what had happened to it when they were searching it? Shouldn't they have found it before?
"Where?" A sharp growl escaped Shagrat's throat.
Frodo began to tremble. This giant made him feel more than frightened.
"Where?!" Shagrat roared and placed his knee on the hobbit's chest. All air came out of Frodo's lungs. Begging he glanced at the Ork who bared his teeth to a mean smile.
"I can even get more nasty!"
Frodo swallowed in despair. What was he supposed to do now?
Finally he drew in some breath and whispered soundlessly: "I don't know..."
Shagrat hesitated. The hobbit's reaction surprised him.
"What does that mean?" he grumbled unwillingly. "Why don't you know?"
Frodo wanted to answer, but suddenly someone shouted from below: "What'ye doing?"
"Shut up, Snaga, and go and look for the Elf warrior!" Shagrat answered briefly and concentrated on Frodo again. The hobbit felt his heart beating even faster. Elf warrior? But first he must get rid of Shagrat.
"It's... it's gone.. I don't have it anymore", he explained arduously and was lifted up ungently and shaken by Shagrat.
"And where is it?" the orc growled.
Frodo shook his head. "I don't know..."
"You cursed maggot, don't lie to me!" Frodo was terrified and suddenly fell. Before he knew what was happening he heard the crack and felt a burning pain on his back.
He jerked and covered his head with his hands protectingly. Again he felt a stroke of the whip and cried out from pain.
Fearfully he curled up and heard Gorbag giggling.
Frodo felt ashamed, there he was, lying naked and captured by orcs somewhere in Mordor and tears came to his eyes.
But suddenly he perceived steps and the croaking of wood, then the trap door was shut again and he raised his head.
They were gone. But it didn't take long and the astonished hobbit heard shouting from below. Soon everything was quiet again.
He sat upright and looked around. They had left his clothes. Slowly he rose, lifted up his Elvencloak and put it around his shoulders. Weeping he sat down on the ground in front of his clothes and clutched the mithril shirt. Tears were falling onto the slighty shimmering metal and he hid his face in his hands.
What should happen now? Should this go on forever with these orcs and their questioning and attacks?
How should he ever escape from this place?
He longed for Sam very much, a little comfort in his loneliness and something to eat. The first sickness had just passed and suddenly he felt the torturing hunger, but he didn't really care.
He had failed. He had lost the ring, lost Sam and lost his freedom. And the Valar knew what should happen to him next. Those horror stories he had heard about torture and death seemed just too possible and very near. If it should go on like that forever, he preferred dying.
He hardly had thought this when one of the Orcs returned. He seemed to do it secretly, for Frodo had not heard any sound until he came.
It was Gorbag. When Frodo beholded the dagger in his hand, he felt hot from agony. But Gorbag did not seem to plan an attack, but stayed where he was and finally grumbled: "Nothing's happening, I just want your stuff there. I'll be gone soon."
Frodo could hardly believe what he heard, but wiped away the last tears and nodded. Then Gorbag came towards him, still trying to make no noise, and took all his things. He dragged away the mithril shirt from Frodo and also grabbed the Elvencloak. Frodo let it happen without defense, this bloke should disappear again as fast as possible.
Unexpectedly there came a thought to his mind and he quickly asked Gorbag who already turned to leave.
"What will happen to me?"
The orc stood still and turned about. He glanced at the hobbit with his dark eyes.
"You'll go to Lugburz."
"Lugburz?"
Gorbag nodded.
"Shagrat said the lord himself wanted to see you in his tower."
Frodo's heart stopped beating for an instant and he could not breathe. He was very aware of what that meant.
"But I don't have it anymore! Please..." he begged with a hoarse voice, but without looking at him again Gorbag went down again and left the hobbit alone in his fear and dismay.
"No..." he whispered shocked. He shouldn't have asked.
But there was no time to despair entirely, for below a turmoil broke out and he heard Shagrat roaring furiously in Orcish.
Frightened Frodo listened to the noise that faded away at once. A short time later he heard a malicious laughter and there was silence again.
He had to get away. Now. In terror he remembered Boromir's words: "You will beg for death before the end!"
The warrior had been right.
Desperately Frodo admitted that his situation was hopelessness. He didn't care what this rabble of orcs intended to do with his clothes, but probably Sauron himself had given some order.
Sauron. Fright grabbed him with icy fingers and Frodo felt he must go insane.
But what had Shagrat said about an Elf warrior? Here there was no Elf warrior! But maybe this was...
The walls echoed from fast steps. There was someone coming again.
The next moment the door flung open and Shagrat's grimace, showing hatred, appeared in the ground.
"Gorbag won't disturb anymore, so the two of us will have much fun now! I'll tell you something: I wanna know with which filthy Elf you have come! He's still around here!"
Frodo bit his lips. He had already hoped not to have a reason to fear something, but Shagrat had a dagger which he raised threatening.
"Are you frightened, little rat? This is what you should be. But I'll tell you something: If you don't tell me, then you'll tell in Lugburz and this won't be that pleasant!"
Suddenly he sprang towards Frodo who had risen and pushed him forcefully to the wall. Grinning he held his dagger to Frodo's throat.
"Come on, speak! Who is that Elf?"
"I was alone..." Frodo whispered silently, staring at Shagrat with a fixed gaze. If his suddenly waking hope was not all in vain, then he must lie now to prevent Shagrat from hunting.
"Alone? You weren't alone!"
The pressure of the sharp knife-edge increased.
"The spider got him..." he murmured soundlessly and suddenly felt a blow in his face.
"She got him? This I'll find out..." A second disillusioning time Shagrat slapped him and Frodo's nose began bleeding, then the orc turned away.
"Don't get your hopes up too soon! I'll be back!" he hissed and vanished.
Sobbing Frodo sank to the ground and weakly crawled to the hep of rags in the corner where he had lain before.
Nobody would manage to rescue him. It was hopeless.
He felt so empty, felt nothing, no fear, no despair. Nothing.
He had lost every feeling for time and didn't perceive anything, neither the argument Shagrat and Snaga had, nor Snagas cursing.
If eternity felt like that, it had to be horrible.
He closed his eyes and curled up unhappily to wait.
Immeasurably much later it seemed then he was suddenly drawn from lethargy. A faint voice reached his ear and it sounded kind of helpless. He could not understand anything, but the simple thought of not being alone contained a little comfort, thinking of the unknown Elf warrior or another good person having found the way to this hideous place.
There was someone singing. Singing in this place!
Without thinking he exclaimed hopefully: "Sam? Is that you, Sam?"
The singing stopped, but some orc took the word.
"Ho la! You up there, you dunghill rat! Stop your squeaking, or I'll come and deal with you. D'you hear?"
Full of fear Frodo did not answer.
"All right. But I'll come and have a look at you all the same, and see what you're up to."
The next moment he was there. He didn't know him who was heading for him with the whip in his hand, but the voice sounded like Snaga's.
Frodo lowered his head and just felt the burning pain, but still kept his eyes closed when he heard shouting, and he didn't move. A loud thud followed and then he heard a voice, a warm, friendly voice, and was lifted up very gently.
"Frodo! Mr. Frodo, my dear! It's Sam, I've come!"
When Frodo opened his eyes, he looked at Sam's eyes, filled with tears, and hardly believed what he saw.
"Am I still dreaming?" he muttered. "But the other dreams were horrible."
But it was true.
"You're not dreaming at all, Master", said Sam. "It's real. It's me. I've come."
Happiness spread all over his body and he clutched his friend, never willing to let go of him again.