Frodo felt the tug in his chest again; Sam had looked at the Ring. He quickly darted his eyes towards his friend and saw him looking in the opposite direction. Maybe he wasn't looking but he was thinking about it; every time Frodo felt that tugging, he knew someone else was focused on the Ring and Sméagol was traipsing a few feet behind the Hobbits, muttering to himself about his hunger.
For a moment Frodo considered pulling out Sting and eliminating Sam now, so that he wouldn't have a chance to take it from him; and then the tugging was gone and Frodo felt horrible. He could never hurt Sam, the person who had been there no matter what, his best friend in this power-ridden world. What was happening to him? He so wished they were back at the Shire, he did not want this anymore. Except he did want it, he wanted it more than anything in their world could ever want it. He constantly felt the need to slip it on, just for a second, just to make sure it was safe. But then it would alert Sauron and he would have to battle for the Ring again. No, it was safer just to feel the heavy banging on his chest and the swaying of the chain around his neck.
"We should rest, Mr. Frodo. You look like you're about to fall over." Frodo gave Sam a small smile and nodded, trying to push back thoughts about the Ring and bring forth ones from the Shire. Concentrating on Sam was always a wonderful way to remember his home. He sank down onto the ground next to his friend and watched as he began pulling out pieces of the elvish bread. Sitting here, close to Sam, he could remember the nights they stayed out at the pub; he could remember laughing over Sam's clumsiness around Rosie. If he closed his eyes he clearly saw Pippin and Merry dancing atop the table at the Green Dragon; he remembered the smell of his house and the fresh strawberries he would eat after Sam had brought them in from his garden. He saw his uncle hunched over his book, trying to think of what he should write down next. Frodo felt like sobbing, his heart's want for his old bed was so great.
However, something was wrapping its way around his heart like a snake whispering No, Mine! Claiming him for its own. He could no longer see the Shire, could no longer hear his friends laughter. All he saw when he closed his eyes now was the Ring, all he felt was the Ring thudding against his chest with need. All he wanted was the Ring.
"Here, you need to eat Mr. Frodo." His eyes snapped back open and he managed another smile as he took the bread from Sam's hands.
"Thank you, Sam."
"It's just bread," Sam tried to hide his head, embarrassed at Frodo's gratitude.
"You know what I mean Sam." He bit into the bread and chewed it with a sigh. Maybe he could get through this after all, as long as Sam was with him.
A/N-
I know it's very short; I don't trust myself to write a big fan-fiction on Lord of the Rings and be able to stay true to the characters. I've been in love with these movies since they came out almost ten years ago, and of course I love the books, so I hope this is good enough for it. I'm sat here watching the Return of the King and just got the sudden urge to write this about twenty minutes ago. Reviews would be nice if you feel generous enough.
