Chapter 12 A Hobbit's Devotion

Sam fought his way up from the depths of unconsciousness. It was a difficult battle for sleep seemed determined to hold him prisoner, but Sam had a mission. He could not clearly remember all that happened but one thought cried out to him: His master was alive! If this was true, Sam must go to him with all speed. He must break free of this cocoon of lethargy and find Frodo. He pictured his master wandering lost in the bleak wastelands of Mordor and if that is where his master was, so must go Sam.

With immense effort, Sam forced his eyes open. For a brief moment he panicked when he could see nothing by inky darkness but he quickly realized it must be nighttime. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. In fact, he was not truly aware of his surroundings at all. He still burned with a fever and Sam saw only what he wanted to see. In his mind, he was back in Mordor and he must find the boulders where he had left Frodo. Frodo would surely be there waiting for him Sam reasoned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He closed his eyes again as the room spun around him and he labored for breath. He felt pain but in a distant, dreamlike way. It wasn't important. Slowly, he turned and placed his feet on the floor. Wheezing, he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing onto the cot for support as his legs threatened to collapse beneath him. For several long minutes he stood there steadying himself before finally standing upright. He turned his head and spied the slight lessening of the darkness where the tent opening was located. Slowly and painfully, Sam staggered towards it and out into the sleeping camp.

The sun had just risen when Herin, the Healer assigned to the general care of the Ringbearer and his companion, entered the tent. Although Lord Aragorn personally cared for the two hobbits, Herin watched over them in the meantime. Since they had reached Ithilien the day before, Herin's job had been fairly easy. The hobbits were deep within their healing sleep and they were beginning to show improvement. Herin had checked on the two Halflings during the night and all had been well. He expected no problems this morning so it came as a great shock indeed when he found himself faced with an empty cot. Dumbfounded, he stared at it as if he had never seen such a thing before. His eyes snapped to the adjacent cot and with relief, he spied Frodo's dark curls nestled deep within the pillows. Again he returned to the second empty cot and slowly approached it. Without thinking he quickly looked under both the cots as if Sam might be playing a prank. He stood again staring wildly about, a bubble of panic rising within him. He rushed out of the tent and began to frantically search the area. He kept telling himself how foolish this was – Samwise had been in no condition to go wandering off! He was in an enchanted sleep for goodness' sake! Could some one have taken him? These thoughts rapidly flickered through his mind along with a growing fear that he was going to have to explain to Lord Aragorn and the wizard Gandalf that somehow he had lost a hobbit!

"Herin?" The Healer wheeled around in alarm as he came face to face with Lord Aragorn.

"My…my lord!" he stuttered in dismay his eyes still darting about in hopes of locating the missing Halfling.

"Is something amiss?" inquired Aragorn with concern. He noted the Healer's obvious agitation and could feel a sense of growing unease.

"My…my lord," began Herin again, now wringing his hands nervously, "Ah, one of the, ah, hobbits seems to have disappeared."

Aragorn stared at him frowning. "What do you mean 'disappeared'?" Without waiting for a reply, Aragorn swept past the trembling Healer and thrust himself through the tent opening halting beside Sam's empty cot. Staring at it for a moment, he wheeled to again to face the Healer. "Tell me what happened," he demanded tersely.

The Healer swallowed. "I...I checked on them about midnight," he stammered. "They were both sleeping soundly. When I returned just now, I found Sam was missing from his bed! He…he couldn't have just wandered off…could he?"

Aragorn stood deep in thought. This made no sense. He had placed both the hobbits into a deep healing sleep and it should have been nearly impossible for them to break through that. That left only one other alternative and that was Sam had been kidnapped. Aragorn shook his head. That made no sense either! Why would anyone take Sam? Few people even knew who he was and fewer, what he had done. He stared down at his feet for a few moments, then frowned. Squatting, he carefully peered at the ground at his feet. His frown grew deeper. Slowly, he began to make his way away from the tent, never letting his eyes lift from the ground before him. Herin watched in bewilderment. "My lord?" he asked hesitantly.

Still carefully advancing, Aragorn replied, "I see hobbit tracks here, leaving the tent and heading towards the east." He paused, looking up as the implication became clear to him. "Towards Mordor."

Herin stared at him in horror. "Mordor?" he whispered following Aragorn's gaze. "But…but why would he return there?"

"Frodo." Aragorn shook his head ruefully. "We made sure Sam knew Frodo was alive, but we failed to see the possible consequences of that action. Obviously, in his delirium, Sam understood Frodo lived but not that he was safely beside him. He must think Frodo is still lost in Mordor and now he has gone to find him." He paused for a moment then sighed. "However, I doubt he has gone far. As you say, he is in no condition to go wandering about. I am just astounded that his devotion was so powerful as to allow him to break through the healing spell!" Shaking his head once more, Aragorn resumed his tracking.

Sam staggered drunkenly as he made his way toward the hulking mountains in the east. Time and time again he stumbled and fell and each effort to rise and resume his journey was more difficult than the last. He wore nothing but his nightshirt but in his fevered state he did not feel the chill wind swirling about his shivering body. As luck would have it, his and Frodo's tent had been located towards the edge of the camp in a quiet wooded glen, away from the noise and hubbub of the rest of the encampment. If this had not been the case, it is unlikely Sam would have been able to wander as far as he did.

Sam's heart and determination were very strong, but his physical strength was not. He stumbled one more time and went sliding down into a brushy ravine. He cried in pain as his barely healed wound split open staining his nightshirt a brilliant red. He lay panting as the world swirled around him. He lifted his head and tried desperately to disentangle himself from the brush and pull himself to his feet but it was no use. His battered body could go no further and with a cry of despair, Sam collapsed into the welcoming darkness.

To Herin, it seemed as if they had traveled miles before they finally caught up with the errant hobbit. Sam had made it out of the camp and made nearly a league before collapsing into a brush filled gully. If Aragorn had not been the skillful tracker he was, they would have lost Sam entirely. Aragorn slid down the slope to where Sam lay tangled up in prickly bush. The hobbit's face and hands were badly scratched but Aragorn inwardly groaned at the sight of Sam's blood-soaked nightshirt. Carefully, he lifted Sam in his arms and carried him back up to where Herin anxiously awaited their return. "Is he alive?" the Healer asked as he assisted Aragorn over the top of the ravine.

Aragorn nodded absently then deftly removed his cloak and gently laid the hobbit on top. "Frodo!" Aragorn started in surprise as Sam croaked his beloved master's name. Aragorn had been certain Sam was unconscious.

"Sam?" asked Aragorn softly, "Can you hear me?"

Sam moaned and feebly attempted to escape Aragorn's grasp. "No! I must find Mister Frodo!"

"Sam!" cried Aragorn more urgently, "Sam! Can you hear me?" He laid his hand on Sam's forehead wincing at its heat. Herin hovered apprehensively nearby. Aragorn called Sam's name yet again and until at last, it appeared the hobbit heard.

Sam's eyes slowly focused on Aragorn's face and he frowned in confusion. "Strider?"

Aragorn gave a small laugh of relief, "Yes, Sam! It is Strider! Sam, you must listen to me, Frodo is safe! He is not in Mordor but with us!"

Sam seem to shudder with pain but his eyes remained focused on Aragorn's as he labored to understand what the Ranger was saying. After a few moments he whispered, "Are you sure?"

Aragorn nodded firmly. "Yes, Sam, I am sure. Now, you must come back with us to Frodo. He is waiting for you but you must get better so that you may help him. Do you understand me Sam?"

Again Sam stared at him silently. His entire body was trembling now. Aragorn wanting nothing more than to get him back to camp and return him to his healing sleep, but the Ranger knew it was vitally important that Sam understand about Frodo, otherwise Aragorn was certain the hobbit would continue to expend what little energy he had in attempting to fight off the spell and go again in search of Frodo. Finally Sam nodded. "I understand." Aragorn smiled wearily as he painstakingly wrapped Sam in his cloak.

"It will be all right now, Sam" he said as he again took the hobbit up in his arms. "I'm taking you to Frodo now." Sam gave a small trusting smile and Aragorn felt his body relax as unconscious took Sam into its soothing void once more.

Aragorn carried Sam back to the tent ignoring the puzzled glances from those he passed. Although he knew Sam could not hear him, he continued to murmur reassurances to the hobbit in his arms. The power of Sam's devotion to his master still astounded him. "Aragorn?" The Ranger looked up to see Gandalf hurrying towards him, his face clouded with concern. "What has happened?"

Aragorn, smiling fondly at Sam's pale face, looked at the wizard. "Sam decided to look for Frodo. Apparently he thought him to still be trapped in Mordor."

Gandalf stood speechless for a moment than laughed shaking his head. "As I have said many a time, never underestimate the strength of a hobbit!" He fell in beside Aragorn as they continued their way back to the tent. "Is he all right?"

"I hope so," replied Aragorn. "The important thing is I believe he truly understands that Frodo is safe and that should make all the difference. Sam can now devote his energies to getting better rather than fighting the healing spell!" Entering the tent at last, Aragorn carefully laid Sam upon the vacant cot. He removed Sam's blood soaked night shirt and closely examined his wounds. Sam had lost a fair amount of blood but Aragorn quickly re-stitched the wound closed and soon the hobbit was encased in fresh bandages. "All right, Sam," Aragorn whispered sponging Sam's feverish brow, "Now it is up to you! Frodo is waiting."

Sam gave a small sigh and for the first time since his rescue looked truly at peace.

Author's note: I sincerely apologize for the delay in getting this out. This chapter ended up being too long so I have split it in two. As soon as I finish editing the last one, I will put it up. Thanks for your patience and your support!