Chapter 3

Sam awoke startled that something was wrong. Most of the fellowship was asleep with Boromir, Gimli and him the only ones up. The halfling looked around seeing a different setting then before. A river now ran parallel to the path they were taking and the trees where much different-- more alive and green. Things all together were brighter and more peaceful than before. The air around him seemed even more alive.

"Where are we? Where are the mountains?" he asked mentally and got up. Now everyone else was awake but moving faster than usual. Sam watched as events seemed to pass before his eyes like a story playing out that he wasn't a part of.

Quicker than his eyes could follow Orcs attacked. The moments now slowed down in front of him with Sam unable to move or think. He watched as Legolas draw from his quiver an arrow that was aimed at Boromir. Sam closed his eyes and the Elf turned into an Orc that shot Boromir several times. Sam tried to cry out but could not. He just sat and watched.

Aragorn ran through hacking and hewing Orcs, but there was something atop his brow. "A crown?" Sam pondered and watch. Aragorn had blood running down his face from the crown that looked as if it were cutting into him. Aragorn walked in front of Sam, not seeing him, and suddenly grew pale, deathly pale, with his skin pulled over his bones. He was but a walking dead body. Sam looked behind him and saw Merry and Pippin on the ground with Orcs huddled around them. He pondered to the moment he was speaking to Legolas.

Merry and Pippin are missing. I've been searching for them, but I'm afraid they are nowhere to be found.

Legolas' words echoed in his mind, and Sam watched painfully as the battle played on more. An Orc ran to him and picked up the hobbit. The Orc was much taller than the others, like a man and an Orc were combined. Sam could not resist, even to get away from the pungent odor, and just waited for his fate.

The Orc threw Sam into the river laughing manically. Sam's limbs felt numb, and he couldn't move them to swim (or try too anyway). He watched as the sunlight began to fade as he sunk farther. The hobbit gazed at the bottom of the river noticing the bodies of fallen soldiers. Sam screamed at the sight of the burial ground for the watery graves of the dead soldiers. A hand shot through the water and caught Sam's hand. He was pulled out to see that it was nighttime. Frodo, his rescuer, had a worried look.

"Sam, you almost fell down the well. It would have been a long drop." Frodo said sternly but friendly like. Sam looked around and saw a light above piercing through most of the darkness. It wasn't night. The air was damp, cold and old like that of a cavern....or mine. Now standing with his friend's aid, the hobbit gathered his senses and examined everything that was suddenly coming into focus. Sam tried to remember where a mine came into play.

"Could these be the Mines of Moria?" he asked in thought. "But I've never seen the mines before!" Sam shook his head in dismay thinking the elusiveness of the dream would stay that way till it played out.

Behind Frodo, Merry and Pippin were leaning against a stone box--a stone grave he figured. They had a strange look to them though. They were hunched over with their hands and feet tied. Sam studied them then looked at Boromir who had five arrows in his chest and abdomen, yet he was standing there as if there were none. Blood trickled down the front of his tunic and shirt then to the floor.

To the distant corner Legolas and Gimli stood side by side only staring forward. The blank stares was not what concerned Sam the most; it was the fact they were joined by a chain. The chain itself looked like any other. "The two of the company that are most unlike and are joined together." the hobbit thought slightly mused.

Sam's eyes ventured then to Strider who once again was dawning a crown that was cutting into his flesh. He had blood flowing down his face as well. "Neither are feeling any pain?" Sam walked forward passing Frodo and to the stone grave where the top was opened.

Sam took in a deep breath and looked in seeing Gandalf inside. His face was pale, peaceful with his eyes closed forever and his hands folded neatly across his chest. The hobbit staggered back and hit the far wall. "Gandalf dead!?" He closed his eyes and reopened them and saw the same things. Frodo walked up to Sam and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Frodo asked. Sam looked bewildered.

"Can you not see what's going on? Look at everyone!" Frodo turned his head and looked.

"I see nothing amiss, Sam."

"What about Gandalf? Boromir? Surely you see something wrong?" Sam pleaded raising his voice slightly. Frodo sighed, now annoyed and looked again. When the blued eyed hobbit went to Gandalf, he picked up the old wizard's arm, let it drop then went to Boromir and felt of every wound smearing in the blood in some places. Sam watched wondering when it was going to click with Frodo that something was wrong.

Sam's face became shocked when he saw his master and friend lick the blood from his hands then turned his head to Sam grinning evilly. Frodo's blue eyes were replaced with the rings of fire before glowing like bright lights in a cold darkness that lay behind his eyes.

Sam's eyes widen, and he tried to pull away, but he couldn't tear himself away from Frodo's deadly stare. Sam saw the things around the room flame up until only the section he and Frodo were standing in was left.

"Sam, I think you're on the wrong side of this matter. Everything is fine." Frodo said smiling then pushed Sam into a chasm that seem to appear within the flames. Sam fell watching his once friend grow smaller and smaller as he fell farther and farther down into the dark abyss.

Sam shot up drenched with sweat panting; he looked around and saw Strider still up watching the darkness to catch anything that didn't belong. "How long was I asleep?" he pondered. "It couldn't have been minutes, the dreams were much too long. Or were they?" When the hobbit caught his breath and calmed down, Sam got up and went deeper in the forest. Strider protested.

"Where are you going, Sam? It's not safe to wander." Strider sternly said. Sam shook his head. "Better here than in my nightmares," he thought.

"I need to take a walk." Sam said urgently. It was not a question, and Strider allowed him.

Sam walked deeper into the forest not caring if some hidden predator was to catch him. He needed to think-- alone. The night was colder but the lack of wind made the cold much bearable than before. Only the stars were his guide as the halfling walked a ways from the campsite, not straying too far. Sam sat down on the clean, fresh grass and leaned against a tree.

"That was the worse dream--nightmare yet." he pondered. "I need to talk to someone." Sam absently fingered the cloth of his cloak and continued to throw arguments out. "Why should anyone bother with my dreams? They're meaningless." "If that is so then why do they keep happening?" his thoughts argued.

"I'm no wizard. I don't have visions. Then again, hobbits usually don't venture out this far..." Sam's ears heard the sound of a crack of a twig. He drew his blade and readied himself.

"Sam!" a whisper came from the darkness. It was Frodo. Sam relaxed and put the blade up sitting back down. He called to Frodo, who sat in front of him slightly concerned that was cleverly hidden by a mask of content. The two didn't speak for a while.

"What's wrong, Sam? And don't you dare tell me it's nothing. You usually don't wake up in the middle of the night then leave." Frodo asked bluntly.

Sam sighed, "I-I've been having trouble sleeping," He laughed, " It's the strangest things; see, I keep having these frightful dreams. Never can stay asleep after I have one."

Frodo furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his friend, studying him. Both hobbits could barely see one another in the almost pitch black darkness. Sam was usually very verbose, but because he wouldn't talk, Frodo became slightly concerned.

"Was I in any of them?" Frodo asked in a happier tone. It didn't have quit that positive effect.

"You were, but it wasn't you. It was like an evil you. Not that you would be evil, Mr. Frodo, but it was that ring that corrupted you." Frodo placed a hand of his heart, where the ring lay, and looked grave. The blue eyed hobbit sighed.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Me too, but I do have a question for you. How are you sleeping these nights?" Sam asked slightly annoyed. Frodo was taken back, but responded. Both of them had shared some of the same dreams with walking dead and metamorphic Elves. The wind picked up telling them it was time to return to the campsite. Frodo lead the way with Sam looking from side to side paranoid that something would jump out.

They reached the campsite just as Strider was waking Boromir for the next watch. The moment of Boromir standing with arrows in his chest flashed before Sam's eyes. The hobbit shook the feeling off and laid down in his spot star gazing.

"If one's fate is determined by the stars, then what do the stars say about the fellowship....or me?" Sam asked and pondered more not wanting to fall back asleep.

The rest of the night Sam did not dream and soon the dawning light was upon the fellowship welcoming them to another day of endless travel and anticipation. Scaling the mountains was not a popular plan amongst the group, but after to cajoling from Gandalf, they tried to travel that way. Sam hated the cold weather and felt he would be frozen solid if he had to endure any more of the weather. When they failed to walk on the mountain, the next plan was to be decided.

Sam was wet and freezing when they reached bottom and gathered around the newly built campfire. Boromir shook his head obviously displeased by the fact the group even attempted such a folly. Aragorn was agitated because he knew the choice Gandalf had in mind-- it wasn't exactly his idea of a getting to Mordor.

"...but you and I have traveled through the mines and come out again," Gandalf argued to Aragorn. "Mines?" Sam pondered his dream which was now more of a blur then anything else. He did not wish to travel the mines and think that he may encounter what he saw in his dream. Just trying to remember what happen gave him a chill that travel up and down his spine.

Sam's gaze traveled from Gandalf and Aragorn to Frodo who just stared at the ground in deep thought. Merry and Pippin were beside him still looking a little sick and shaken from the snow. "Hobbits and snow don't mix," Sam thought and smiled for the first time in a while.

"It's up to the Ringbearer, but I will not go unless the whole vote of the company is against me," Boromir stated and looked at Frodo with eyes pleading to not go through the mines. Sam too did not want to travel that way. When Frodo said he would travel that way if Gandalf lead, Sam's heart sank. "Mines and rivers are not what I want to see," he said softly to himself as the fellowship prepared to stay the night in this quaint place at the foot of the mountains with a sliver of the moon appearing on the horizon as the sun dipped into the land.