"I don't want to leave you master Frodo!" Samwise yelled through the mist.
"Go Samwise, go!" came the loud response from nowhere.
Tears were streaming down the poor hobbit boy's face, his heart was tied up in knots and he could not make himself turn around.
Despite not seeing anything he plowed through the thick white clouds searching with his hands in front of him.
"Master Frodo? Frodo!!" he cried out, running faster, blinded by both mist and tears.
"Go home, Sam, go!" Frodo yelled.
"No, master Frodo, I'll find you! I won't leave you! You need help!"
His words bounced back with an ominious echo.
Except for the voices in Samwise head there was no sound at all. He was running blindly through what seemed to be an egg. Everything white with no beginning or end.
"I can't see you, Master Frodo! Talk to me so I can follow your voice!"
There was no response. Sam kept running and running, feeling like he was in a dream where he wouldn't move an inch no matter how fast he ran.
The muddy ground slowed him down plenty, but he wouldn't let that stop him. He would get to Mr. Frodo somehow. He had to! Nevermind if the Gaffer will be angry. Not important now.
A sudden bright lightning hit the sky and Sam crashed to his knees.
When he opened his eyes the mist was clearing and he found his master lying right before him.
Crawling over the mud the few feet parting the two hobbits Samwise was soon beside the lifeless body.
"Master Frodo? Master Frodo? Are you okay?" he begged and put his ear to the tweenage hobbit's heart.
It was still beating and a soft warm breath against Sam's hair told him he was only sleeping.
Sam clutched Frodo's hand and held it hard.
"Oh Mr. Frodo, you always get us in to trouble, that's what the gaffer always says, but now you've really planted a pickle!"
Along with the clearing of the mist came the rain and thunder.
The water splashing down on the sleeping hobbit's face made him awaken and he slowly blinked his eyes open.
Sam sighed a breath of relief. He seemed alright after all.
"Come here, Mr. Frodo, let me help you back to Bag-End," Sam said and managed to get him to stand up.
Supporting his master with his arm they stumbled across the muddy cold field and eventually reached Bag-End.
Bilbo was pacing around inside, smoking a pipe and looked anxious, probably waiting for his adopted boy to return. When the round door opened up and he spotted Frodo he immidiately took him out of Sam's arms and put him down on the couch.
"Frodo, my lad. Speak to me!" he said, holding his cold hands.
Frodo's lips were blue, his face pale as a sheet and he was cold as ice.
"I'm cold," he huttered and shivered in response.
Sam grabbed a blanket from the closet and covered the young hobbit with it.
"I told you to come home early, Frodo. Stop fooling around on the fields! They are not safe in the dark! That goes for you too, Samwise!" Bilbo scolded and glared at Sam who looked scared.
"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Bilbo."
Bilbo turned back to Frodo and put his hand over his forehead. Cold like the rest of him. He would probably get a fever from being so frozen.
"I-I think he might have injured his ankle, Mr. Bilbo," Sam explained.
"You're telling me this now?"
Samwise felt like being scolded by his ol' Gaffer and looked down at his muddy feet, feeling ashamed of his immature and irresponsible behaviour.
Bilbo moved the knitted blanket and touched Frodo's ankle with no reaction. He reached for the other one and immidiately Frodo winced in pain.
"Seems as though you're right, Samwise, but we can not get a medecine man here until the mist has gone away and the rain has subsided. You will stay the night here and I don't care what your Gaffer says."
Sam nodded without argument and helped Bilbo get Frodo in to dry clothes and tuck him in to bed.
Later Bilbo and Samwise were sitting in front of the open fire, drinking tea, Samwise wrapped in two blankets.
"I'm sorry for getting me in Frodo in to trouble, Mr. Bilbo, I, we wer-"
"Hush, Sam, I don't put any blame on you, nor on Frodo. I was young once too you know," he said lightly and smiled at the frozen hobbit.
Sam smiled back, hoping to hear another of Mr. Bilbo's stories.
"Not that I deserve one.
In fact I deserve to be punished. Hm, I'll get that from the gaffer tomorrow, no need to get excited now, Sam," he thought to himself.
"What were you playing this time?" the older man asked.
Sam blushed, flushed red to the very pointy tips of his ears.
"Elven warriors, Mr. Bilbo. It's one of my favourite games."
Bilbo put his hand comfortingly on Sam's shoulder.
"Let me tell you what I was up to at your age, Sam, maybe you will understand me better.
I was a wild child, always up to no good. They couldn't keep an eye on me. No, even if they used both eyes they would still lose me," Bilbo laughed, rejoicing the memories of his childhood and tweenage days.
"One day a friend of mine told me about this treasure in Woody End and he swore that every old hobbit he'd ever known had tried to find it, but failed. It can only be seen by the eye of a hobbit with a clean concious. A child, he said.
He also said it could only be found between sunset and sunrise.
I was probably younger than you are now then Sam, or maybe it was wishful thinking that I was a child at that moment. I was intriguied by his story so one night when my parents had fallen asleep I snuck out to find the treasure. I thought I would make my family so proud," Bilbo continued and paused.
Sam immidiately got impatient to hear the rest.
"What happened, Mr. Bilbo? Did you get to Woody End?"
Bilbo looked at Sam and chuckled.
"I reached Old Farmer Maggot's crops where I was caught by the grumpy owner himself."
"Really? Was he very angry with you, Mr. Bilbo?"
Bilbo smiled brightly. "Nah, I was a mere child. He was more amused by my story and took me in for a cup of tea before he drove me back home. Still today I can not understand how I managed to get back to my bed without waking up my parents. If the old geezer was still alive today I would offer him a big mushroom pie and thank him for keeping his big mouth shut about the incident."
Sam chuckled. "That's very nice of him, Mr. Bilbo."
"Yeah, I never would have heard the end of if they found out," Bilbo said with a light sigh and squeezed Sam's shoulder.
Sam yawned but tried to hide it behind his hand.
"Oh my, son, I'm keeping you up. You should be in bed at this hour. I will set the guestbed in Frodo's chamber for you, lad."
Sam blushed. "No need, Mr. Bilbo, I can sleep on the couch. I'm used to it."
Bilbo got up. "Nonsense, young hobbit. I will take none of that. Where you sleep at home is your Gaffer's concern, but at Bag End nobody sleeps on the couch. Got that, my son?"
Sam smiled and nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Mr. Bilbo."
"I would tell a story to your Gaffer about tonight, but your muddy clothes give you away I'm afraid," Bilbo laughed as he pulled out a night shirt for Sam and tossed it to him.
It was very much too big for him, but it was cosy and he liked the clean smell of it. So fresh.
The bed was soft and the thick duvet kept him warm as he crept down under it, also smelling so clean and proper.
The sheets were crispy and brightest of white.
Sam would never understand how Bilbo did it.
Bilbo kissed Sam's forehead and blew out the candle on the table beside the bed before heading for the door.
"Mr. Bilbo..." came Sam's soft, hesitant voice throught he dark.
"Yes, my boy?"
"Did you ever reach Woody End? Surely you didn't give up, Mr. Bilbo. You wouldn't, would you?"
Bilbo chuckled again.
"There was no treasure, I can assure you of that. Good night now, Samwise Gamgee."
"Good night, Mr. Bilbo."
Thinking back to a story Sam once read he fell asleep and dreamed away to faraway lands and elves.
"Go Samwise, go!" came the loud response from nowhere.
Tears were streaming down the poor hobbit boy's face, his heart was tied up in knots and he could not make himself turn around.
Despite not seeing anything he plowed through the thick white clouds searching with his hands in front of him.
"Master Frodo? Frodo!!" he cried out, running faster, blinded by both mist and tears.
"Go home, Sam, go!" Frodo yelled.
"No, master Frodo, I'll find you! I won't leave you! You need help!"
His words bounced back with an ominious echo.
Except for the voices in Samwise head there was no sound at all. He was running blindly through what seemed to be an egg. Everything white with no beginning or end.
"I can't see you, Master Frodo! Talk to me so I can follow your voice!"
There was no response. Sam kept running and running, feeling like he was in a dream where he wouldn't move an inch no matter how fast he ran.
The muddy ground slowed him down plenty, but he wouldn't let that stop him. He would get to Mr. Frodo somehow. He had to! Nevermind if the Gaffer will be angry. Not important now.
A sudden bright lightning hit the sky and Sam crashed to his knees.
When he opened his eyes the mist was clearing and he found his master lying right before him.
Crawling over the mud the few feet parting the two hobbits Samwise was soon beside the lifeless body.
"Master Frodo? Master Frodo? Are you okay?" he begged and put his ear to the tweenage hobbit's heart.
It was still beating and a soft warm breath against Sam's hair told him he was only sleeping.
Sam clutched Frodo's hand and held it hard.
"Oh Mr. Frodo, you always get us in to trouble, that's what the gaffer always says, but now you've really planted a pickle!"
Along with the clearing of the mist came the rain and thunder.
The water splashing down on the sleeping hobbit's face made him awaken and he slowly blinked his eyes open.
Sam sighed a breath of relief. He seemed alright after all.
"Come here, Mr. Frodo, let me help you back to Bag-End," Sam said and managed to get him to stand up.
Supporting his master with his arm they stumbled across the muddy cold field and eventually reached Bag-End.
Bilbo was pacing around inside, smoking a pipe and looked anxious, probably waiting for his adopted boy to return. When the round door opened up and he spotted Frodo he immidiately took him out of Sam's arms and put him down on the couch.
"Frodo, my lad. Speak to me!" he said, holding his cold hands.
Frodo's lips were blue, his face pale as a sheet and he was cold as ice.
"I'm cold," he huttered and shivered in response.
Sam grabbed a blanket from the closet and covered the young hobbit with it.
"I told you to come home early, Frodo. Stop fooling around on the fields! They are not safe in the dark! That goes for you too, Samwise!" Bilbo scolded and glared at Sam who looked scared.
"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Bilbo."
Bilbo turned back to Frodo and put his hand over his forehead. Cold like the rest of him. He would probably get a fever from being so frozen.
"I-I think he might have injured his ankle, Mr. Bilbo," Sam explained.
"You're telling me this now?"
Samwise felt like being scolded by his ol' Gaffer and looked down at his muddy feet, feeling ashamed of his immature and irresponsible behaviour.
Bilbo moved the knitted blanket and touched Frodo's ankle with no reaction. He reached for the other one and immidiately Frodo winced in pain.
"Seems as though you're right, Samwise, but we can not get a medecine man here until the mist has gone away and the rain has subsided. You will stay the night here and I don't care what your Gaffer says."
Sam nodded without argument and helped Bilbo get Frodo in to dry clothes and tuck him in to bed.
Later Bilbo and Samwise were sitting in front of the open fire, drinking tea, Samwise wrapped in two blankets.
"I'm sorry for getting me in Frodo in to trouble, Mr. Bilbo, I, we wer-"
"Hush, Sam, I don't put any blame on you, nor on Frodo. I was young once too you know," he said lightly and smiled at the frozen hobbit.
Sam smiled back, hoping to hear another of Mr. Bilbo's stories.
"Not that I deserve one.
In fact I deserve to be punished. Hm, I'll get that from the gaffer tomorrow, no need to get excited now, Sam," he thought to himself.
"What were you playing this time?" the older man asked.
Sam blushed, flushed red to the very pointy tips of his ears.
"Elven warriors, Mr. Bilbo. It's one of my favourite games."
Bilbo put his hand comfortingly on Sam's shoulder.
"Let me tell you what I was up to at your age, Sam, maybe you will understand me better.
I was a wild child, always up to no good. They couldn't keep an eye on me. No, even if they used both eyes they would still lose me," Bilbo laughed, rejoicing the memories of his childhood and tweenage days.
"One day a friend of mine told me about this treasure in Woody End and he swore that every old hobbit he'd ever known had tried to find it, but failed. It can only be seen by the eye of a hobbit with a clean concious. A child, he said.
He also said it could only be found between sunset and sunrise.
I was probably younger than you are now then Sam, or maybe it was wishful thinking that I was a child at that moment. I was intriguied by his story so one night when my parents had fallen asleep I snuck out to find the treasure. I thought I would make my family so proud," Bilbo continued and paused.
Sam immidiately got impatient to hear the rest.
"What happened, Mr. Bilbo? Did you get to Woody End?"
Bilbo looked at Sam and chuckled.
"I reached Old Farmer Maggot's crops where I was caught by the grumpy owner himself."
"Really? Was he very angry with you, Mr. Bilbo?"
Bilbo smiled brightly. "Nah, I was a mere child. He was more amused by my story and took me in for a cup of tea before he drove me back home. Still today I can not understand how I managed to get back to my bed without waking up my parents. If the old geezer was still alive today I would offer him a big mushroom pie and thank him for keeping his big mouth shut about the incident."
Sam chuckled. "That's very nice of him, Mr. Bilbo."
"Yeah, I never would have heard the end of if they found out," Bilbo said with a light sigh and squeezed Sam's shoulder.
Sam yawned but tried to hide it behind his hand.
"Oh my, son, I'm keeping you up. You should be in bed at this hour. I will set the guestbed in Frodo's chamber for you, lad."
Sam blushed. "No need, Mr. Bilbo, I can sleep on the couch. I'm used to it."
Bilbo got up. "Nonsense, young hobbit. I will take none of that. Where you sleep at home is your Gaffer's concern, but at Bag End nobody sleeps on the couch. Got that, my son?"
Sam smiled and nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Mr. Bilbo."
"I would tell a story to your Gaffer about tonight, but your muddy clothes give you away I'm afraid," Bilbo laughed as he pulled out a night shirt for Sam and tossed it to him.
It was very much too big for him, but it was cosy and he liked the clean smell of it. So fresh.
The bed was soft and the thick duvet kept him warm as he crept down under it, also smelling so clean and proper.
The sheets were crispy and brightest of white.
Sam would never understand how Bilbo did it.
Bilbo kissed Sam's forehead and blew out the candle on the table beside the bed before heading for the door.
"Mr. Bilbo..." came Sam's soft, hesitant voice throught he dark.
"Yes, my boy?"
"Did you ever reach Woody End? Surely you didn't give up, Mr. Bilbo. You wouldn't, would you?"
Bilbo chuckled again.
"There was no treasure, I can assure you of that. Good night now, Samwise Gamgee."
"Good night, Mr. Bilbo."
Thinking back to a story Sam once read he fell asleep and dreamed away to faraway lands and elves.