-MISTRESS-SAMWISE (A.K.A AMY): Hey, hey, hey! What's this? Another story? *examines story* Well, I believe it is! Now, this one I'm quite fond of… And it's the one where Frodo gets screwed by the Ring— I mean… (quickly) It's the one that's a lot different from my last new story, "Sleep"! (nervously) Heh-heh-heh.
-FRODO: I get what by the what!?
-AMY: Shhh! Don't yell! I am very, very, very tired right now. For you see, I was up all night working on this story, and I am in a very unstable state. Even though it was a school night, I just had to slay that nasty little plot bunny. Tear it apart, slowly and painfully, and dance upon its bloody remains. *smiles incandescently*
-FRODO: *whimper*
-AMY: Shhhhhhhh! Be quiet, my lovely. Anywho, I really don't have a single idea about what the rating of this story should be, for my judgment is severely impaired. So I'm slapping on it my patented Mistress-Samwise's Favoritest Generic One-Size-Fits-All Rating©: PG-13!

-(AMY pulls out a roll of huge, white stickers with black lettering "PG-13" and slaps one on the story. She stands there for a moment, looks around, and suddenly slaps one on FRODO'S forehead.)

-FRODO: Hey!

-AMY: You're a wall, a frickin' wall! And walls don't talk! But you're the cutest, hottest, and sexiest wall I've ever seen.
-FRODO: *whimper*

-AMY: Yes, that was a bit of humor to loosen you up (and myself, especially after such an intense angst fic as this). So read! NOW!!!

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        Sam was sitting on his bedroll, staring blankly at the horizon that was hidden by the endless expanse of mountains. Tiredness clouded his mind. Within this towering landscape, he could not remember if he was on the outside looking in or the inside looking out. The restless rustle of clothing behind him reminded him of his duty. He looked over his shoulder at his master as he curled up tighter, pulling his knees up to his chest. Sam sighed silently, his thoughts turning to Frodo before he started to fall fast asleep, exhausted. Frodo had not been able to fall asleep for quite some time, as it had been ever since they departed from the Fellowship. It was many times like this when Sam would fall asleep to the tireless shifting of Frodo as it reminded him of his own weariness. But Sam could not lie to himself: Frodo didn't stay awake simply because he wasn't tired.

        Furrowing his brow in aggravation, Frodo firmly curled his fingers around the smooth metal of the Ring. No matter how long he held It, It never warmed up completely. Somehow, as if by a will of Its own, It always stayed in a state of coldness. Frodo breathed deeply on It until little beads of moisture accumulated on It. After carefully drying It off, he then held It up to his throat, underneath his jaw. His pulse pounded heavily beneath the tepid gold of the band as his blood quickly warmed It. He closed his eyes and tipped head back, letting out a long, deep, shuddering breath of pleasure. Heat flowed from the Ring in dark waves, streamed through his veins, reaching to every corner of his body. The Ring Itself was enjoying this as much as Frodo, if not more. It loved to play games with Its bearers, to toy with their emotions and feelings. Frodo was turning out to be the most delightful one; he would be fiercely strong and rebellious one moment, and then deliciously weak and susceptible another. It was times like this when the Ring could get away with anything It wanted to.

        Frodo took another slow, shivering breath, feeling the air seep into his lungs and turn to fire as he pressed the Ring further into his neck. He let his breath out and felt his blood rush past under It, igniting into liquid flame and spreading across his flesh. Breathing in again, air and heat met in a blazing explosion. His palms and brow grew damp and with trembling hands, he lifted It to his cheek. The Ring did not find this a better place and quickly began to cool down. Frodo anxiously pulled It away, understanding Its disapproval, and instead swiftly pulled It to his lips. Immediately, the Ring enjoyed this much more, and promptly expressed Its approval to the hobbit.

        Red-hot pleasure shot through Frodo's body. He was barely able to keep himself from feverishly crying out in ecstasy as he sharply jammed the Ring into his lips. His heart pounded wildly and his chest heaved in exhilaration, his body bowed in pure, unearthly joy. A great shudder racked his body as his mind reeled with overwhelming heat and bliss. Lustfully tangling the mithril chain in his fingers, he slowly pulled the Ring across his lips, licking at Its rim with the moist tip of his tongue. Another dark wave of fire swept through his body, hot and intense. He grinned wickedly, closing his eyes and letting out a soft moan of pleasure. As the fiery kiss continued, a dark shadow crept over Frodo's mind and he began to lose himself in the Ring. The shadows seeped over his mouth and neck, choking him, causing him to suffocate in Its evil. Suddenly, his blinding euphoria instantly turned into freezing coldness. All sensation and thought was stripped away, and he was left with numbing emptiness. The only thing he could feel was the wild heaving of his chest and the deafening thud of his heartbeat.

        For a minute, Frodo sat in a stunned confusion, shivering with cold and empty ache. He slowly came to, and realized he was still gripping the Ring, his fingers frozen over the golden band. Filled with dread, he nervously pried his fingers away, his heartbeat thudding harder each moment. Sitting in his palm was the Ring, still glowing dully with flame. Frodo's eyes widened in terror as his memories from only a moment ago came flooding back... Visions of fire, passion, ecstasy, and sin. His chest tightened and his heart leapt into his throat, nearly choking him. He all but screamed in sheer horror as the Ring burned in his hands. It was not a fire of pleasure, but of blinding pain, and it shrouded his mind, rhythmically getting hotter and hotter. With all his will, he tried to free It from his grasp, but something kept his hands from even moving. He was waiting. The thrum of pain became more distinct as it steadily grew more intense with each wave. Soon he realized it wasn't the Ring. It was his own heartbeat. Dropping the Ring from his grasp, he covered his ears with his hands to try to block out the horrible sound.

        "No!" Frodo shrieked, curling up in pain. "No! Go away!"

        Sam suddenly snapped awake, sprung up like lightening and bounded over to his master. He knelt beside him.

        "Mister Frodo!" Sam cried, mentally cursing himself for ever falling asleep. "What's wrong?"

        "No!"  Frodo screamed again while digging the heels of his hands into his head. "Make it stop! Make it stop!"

        "Make what stop?" Sam asked as tears jerked at his eyes.

        Frodo said nothing, but instead let out a strangled cry as his eyes snapped open. He mercilessly tore away at the Ring, not even noticing the terrible gashes he was cutting into his own skin. Sam took Frodo by the wrists and roughly but carefully pinned him to the ground.

        "Mister Frodo! Calm down!" he pled, tears rolling down his cheeks. "You Sam is here! Please, Frodo!"

        Frodo almost instantly fell motionless for all but the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His heart beat violently in his breast, showing no sign of slowing. A minute past, though it seemed like an eternity, and Frodo looked up at Sam's teary face.

        "Sam?" Frodo whispered breathily.

        "Mister Frodo!" Sam exclaimed while gathering his master in his arms. He rocked him back and forth, tears streaming down his face as sobbed into Frodo's dark brown curls. "Oh, Frodo, m'dear! Don't worry, your Sam is here! Oh, Frodo…"

        Frodo collapsed in Sam's arms, extremely exhausted.

        "Oh, Sam…" he murmured into his servant's shoulder. "Please don't leave me…"

        "I-I would never, never! Not in my wildest dreams!" Sam clutched Frodo closer and wept into his hair, his entire body quaking. "I would sooner die than leave your side!"

        "Oh, Sam… I know… I know…" Frodo buried his face into Sam's neck. "It's that I almost lost you… you, and everything else…"

        "How? What 'appened, Mist' Frodo?" Sam asked concernedly while his accent started to grow thicker.

        "It… It was the Ring," Frodo stated, his voice shaking with tears. The Ring was too horrifying to even think about. "It was awful, Sam, awful!"

        Frodo continued to weep into Sam's shoulder, clutching at him with his remaining strength. Sam nuzzled his cheek into Frodo's curls while running his fingers through them.

        "You have your Sam now, Mist' Frodo, an' 'e won't let anythin' bad 'appen to you," he cooed, gently swaying back and forth, trying to comfort the trembling hobbit. "There, there, Mist' Frodo…" He softly kissed one of Frodo's teary cheeks and pressed his face to Frodo's. "It'll be alright… Don't you worry none…"

        For a long while, Sam slowly rocked Frodo in his arms until both their sobbing had quieted. Even when he stopped, Frodo did not let go.

        "Hold me, Sam," Frodo said tiredly.

        Sam laid back and Frodo rested his head on Sam's chest, their arms still around each other.

        "Let me listen to your heartbeat," Frodo whispered.

        Sam nodded and pulled his waistcoat back. Frodo put his ear to Sam's breast. Under it, he could hear the soft flutter of Sam's heart and feel his chest slowly rise and fall with each breath. Frodo enveloped himself in its slow and steady beat, reveling in its languid pace. For the first time in a very long time, he relaxed, and draped himself over Sam's body, feeling the life flow through him.

        "Every breath I take, every heartbeat is for you, Mister Frodo," Sam stated, stroking Frodo's dark locks. "So as long as I'm alive, I will be here with you."

        Frodo listened to the deep, soothing rumble of Sam's voice as it vibrated through his chest. He nestled his face further into Sam's breast, feeling the pulse of his heart press against his ear.

        "I love you, Frodo," Sam said warmly, smoothing his hand over Frodo's brow.

        For the first time in a very long time, Frodo smiled.

        "I love you, too, Sam."

        Even though he couldn't see it, Frodo could feel Sam smiling as he laid his head back. Soon, Frodo could hear Sam's breathing and heartbeat slow as he fell asleep, his arms still around his master. Frodo stayed awake as long as he could, listening to Sam's heart, until, for the first time in a very long time, he passed softly into sleep. And, until they would meet again on the shores of the Undying Lands, Frodo and Sam would never be this at peace again.

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AMY: Okay, everybody… One, two, three!

EVERYBODY (adoringly): Awwwww.

AMY: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that was the communal "Aw". Yeah… Me sleep. You… Review? *gets barraged by flying objects* Oh, forget it. And, one more thing… Go to my website, radd.heavenspit.com"; (there's no www. in front!), or the evil ghost that lives in every TTT Xbox game will DEVOUR YOUR SOUL!!!