True Love. True Sacrifice.
Heat. Unrelenting, heavy, moisture laden heat. The loss of precious water as it dripped from his body, only served to remind him that he was parched. As he lay in the heat of the day, hidden by the sparse vegetation that this inhospitable land offered, the suffering Hobbit tried to lick parched lips, only to have his tongue stick to the cracks, pealing away the skin. The warm blood that splashed into his mouth was salty and the taste was vile, but the hydration was welcome. He could actually feel a small section of his tongue plumping back up where the blood had pooled, but it only served to make the rest of his mouth ache all the more, now that it had been reminded what it had been missing out on.
The ground beneath him, even though constantly in shade, was all hard, broken rock, acidic dust that crept in through all too thick clothing, and clung, in scratchy, muddy clumps to the delicate places on his body.
Reaching into his pack, he pulled out his canteen. The leather was so dry, that it was beginning to crack. Sam worried that, if it wasn't refilled soon, it would be useless before long. As thirsty as he was at that moment, the thought of not even having the ability to carry water, nearly made him cry. The only thing that kept the tears at bay was knowing that he had no water to spare to make the tears with in the first place.
When he shook the abused leather, the most heavenly of sounds met his ears. Water. It would be hot, undoubtedly, and probably muddy as well, but it was water, and enough to get a good swallow. He smiled to himself, cracking his lips all the more, before carefully removing the stopper.
Rolling over onto his side, he shook his beloved master, "Wake up Mr. Frodo. I've got some water for you sir."
Frodo's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled, "Have you had some Sam? I won't take your share."
"Why of course Mr. Frodo Sir. How can I help you if I can't move myself?" He answered. It broke his heart to give away that beautiful water, but what else could he do?
After watching his master swallow the last of the water, Samwise Gamgee, rolled over into the most shaded spot he could find, and even though his body was in agony, there was a small, gentle smile on his lips as he drifted into a fitful sleep.