Between Breaths

this story is dedicated to trilliah, without whom this story wouldn't exist. she mentioned to me that there was a possibility for a missing scene story from end of all things, and asked me to write that for her. i wouldn't have thought of it if not for her. thanks, trilliah! i hope you enjoy this! -- kora

~ "'I can hardly believe it,' said Frodo, clutching him. 'There was an orc with a whip, and then it turns into Sam! Then I wasn't dreaming after all, when I heard that singing down blow, and I tried to answer? Was it you?'" ~ J.R.R. Tolkien, Return of the King

Bilbo Baggins turned from grimly staring out of the window in Bag End at the massing storm clouds to a nervous and worried Hamfast Gamgee wringing his apron in his hands. The gardening hobbit was also uncomfortably eyeing the strengthening storm. "I do not mean to be brash, Mr. Bilbo, but--"

"I agree with you, Hamfast," Bilbo padded from beside the windowsill to his coat rack to grab a cloak, hat and walking stick, picking up an extra of each for Hamfast. "It's high time we went after them."

***

Frodo suddenly couldn't breathe. Waking, he sat up sputtering and coughing. The bit of remaining stream water not banished by Sam's ministrations spilled easily from his lungs. Gasping, Frodo rubbed his eyes, blinked, and gazed around him. The surroundings were normal but unfamiliar; a misty rain fell, making slightly drumming noises on the leaves rustling in the calm wind. Beside him an obviously overgrown stream rushed to its destination, wherever that was.

Frodo shook his head in an almost doggish way to rid his thick curls of the clinging moisture. He remembered, in a blurry sense, camping…then a storm…running, a tree branch--Frodo winced as his stomach throbbed with the memory--a voice calling him…Sam?!

Frodo glanced around frantically until with relief his eyes found the younger hobbit laying beside him. Frowning, Frodo examined Sam further. Sam's face was pale and wet, his breathing shallow. "Sam? Sam!" Frodo shook Sam gently. "Sam, wake up!"

***

Bleakly Bilbo poked around the remains of Sam and Frodo's tent. Most of their things, including Frodo's pack and its contents, were strewn about the surrounding area. Sam's pack, along with Sam and Frodo, were missing. "Mr. Bilbo!" Hamfast's cry broke Bilbo from his thoughts.

"Yes? What is it, Hamfast?" Bilbo trudged over to the spot where Sam's father stood and pointed at a patch of ground.

"Young hobbit tracks," Hamfast said with both relief and urgency. "Belonging to our lads, I'd wager."

Bilbo clapped Hamfast on the back. "Good finding, good. Now come, we've no time to waste."

***

Sam wouldn't wake. Worn out, Frodo let his arms drop to his sides. No amount of shaking did any good. Frodo felt fear seize him. Yes, Sam breathed, but he wouldn't wake up. Frodo didn't know what to make of anything. He was cold, lost, scared, feeling twinges of hunger beginning to gnaw at his insides, and worst of all his best friend could be hurt, even dying, for all Frodo knew. Frodo himself was confused and disoriented; he didn't even know what had happened after the branch.

Fighting off a panicking despair, Frodo looked again at Sam, closer this time. He then noticed something he hadn't seen before: peace. Originally, Frodo's concentrated only on the paleness of Sam's skin. Now he saw in Sam's face and limbs a peaceful relaxation, a comfort in what could only be a healing and rejuvenating slumber.

Somehow, Sam knew that Frodo was safe. Even asleep, the sturdy young hobbit sensed that. Frodo felt foolish now--he'd been worrying all this time when the answer had been right there with Sam all along. They were both going to be fine. Their father and "uncle" surely were coming after them.

All tension flowed from Frodo's body. Relieved of the adrenaline, Frodo's limbs trembled wearily. The young hobbit sank to the ground as sleep slowly overtook him. Before giving in to slumber, Frodo pulled himself along the ground until he was curled beside Sam, resting pleasantly against his best friend's back. Warmed, Frodo let himself disappear into the familiar blackness.

~ "'It was indeed, Mr. Frodo. I'd given up hope, almost, I couldn't find you.'

'Well, you have now, Sam, dear Sam,' said Frodo, and he lay back in Sam's gentle arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand." ~ J.R.R. Tolkien, ROTK

The End