Chapter 4: "No Place I'd Rather Be"
Frodo had been sitting on the stone, lost, alone, and freezing, for what seemed like hours. He sat hugging his knees to his chest, but it didn't make him any warmer. He longed to just lie down and close his eyes, but he had been afraid he might never wake up. Now, however, he was thinking of giving in.
Then he heard it.
Frodo heard a sound that was more beautiful to his ears than any sound in all of Middle Earth. He no longer wished to bury himself in the deathly cold snow and sleep. He wanted to be awake and see the owner of the voice.
"Mr. Frodo!"
"I'm here, Sam!" Frodo called in a weak voice.
He was afraid that his friend wouldn't be able to hear his feeble cry, but somehow Sam did. Soon Frodo saw through the thick, swirling snow a head of sandy curls bent against the icy wind. Frodo smiled, overjoyed at the sight of his friend.
"Sam!" Frodo said.
"Why master! Your face has gone blue in this cold!" exclaimed Sam, whose own nose and cheeks stung from the biting cold.
Frodo didn't reply, but shivered and brought his knees closer to his chest. Sam sat on the rock beside Frodo and examined him. He had grown thin and weak in his sorrow since Bilbo left, and here in this storm he looked even thinner and more helpless. Frodo wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm at a bit of a loss at what to do, Mr. Frodo," Sam admitted. "That log that was over the stream broke."
Frodo leaned against Sam's shoulder. "I'm so cold, Sam," he said quietly. "My hands..."
Sam took Frodo's hands and placed them together, palm to palm, then held them together with his own thicker, tanner hands. He kissed his master's frozen fingers.
"We'll get through this, master," Sam said encouragingly. "You'll see."
Frodo's wide blue eyes showed nothing but trust as he looked at Sam. "If you say we will, Sam, I know it's true."
Sam gave Frodo a half-smile before his master's head returned to his shoulder. He was now twice as determined to find a way out of their situation. He had to think. Sam had been here before, but that had been a while ago. He searched his memory for something helpful. After a minute or so he remembered something.
"Mr. Frodo!" he exclaimed. "There's a tree around here somewhere. A hollow tree that we can take shelter in! I think it's that one over there, but I can't be sure in this storm. We may as well go have a look." Sam stood up, still holding Frodo's hands. "Come on, Mr. Frodo. Up you get."
Frodo looked pitifully up at Sam. "I think my feet have frozen into the ground," he said.
"It's all right, master," Sam said comfortingly. "I'm sure they're not really frozen, but I'll lift you. Just get a good hold on my neck there. That's it. It's all right."
Carrying Frodo in his arms, Sam trudged over to what he thought looked like the hollow tree. He had been correct. There was a good-sized hole in the side of the tree that the hobbits could crawl into.
"Here we are, master."
"Can we both fit in there, Sam?" Frodo asked.
Sam frowned for a moment while he examined it, then said, "Yes, there is a way. I'll have to set you down for a moment."
Sam put Frodo down beside the opening, then crawled in. He sat cross-legged inside the tree, then called for Frodo to join him.
"Come, Mr. Frodo! Here, take my hand. That's it." Sam helped Frodo inside and gently pulled him onto his lap. Frodo instinctively curled up against Sam's chest, seeking what warmth he could. Sam wrapped his arms around Frodo and held him close to help warm him.
"We're out of the wind now, master," Sam said soothingly. "We'll be all right."
Frodo looked up at Sam. His face was still a deathly shade. Sam looked at him with concern. "We'll be all right," he repeated. He held his master's face in both hands and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs in an attempt to bring some life back into them. Frodo turned his piercing blue gaze on Sam and smiled at his concerned friend. "Dear Sam. I'm glad you're with me."
Sam smiled in return and kissed Frodo's forehead. "There's no place I'd rather be."
Frodo smiled, pleasantly surprised. In the midst of all the bitter cold, he had discovered a source of real warmth. "Why Sam! Your lips are warm!"
Sam licked his lips again and pressed an icy finger to his mouth. "Bless me, but they do! They seem to be the only part."
He kissed Frodo's forehead again, then kissed his icy nose.
Frodo smiled at the warmth. "Sam, you're a marvel! I believe you'd do anything to keep me safe."
"That I would, Mr. Frodo," Sam returned. He wrapped his arms around his master again and held him to his chest. "Sleep now, master dear. Your Sam is here."
Frodo had been sitting on the stone, lost, alone, and freezing, for what seemed like hours. He sat hugging his knees to his chest, but it didn't make him any warmer. He longed to just lie down and close his eyes, but he had been afraid he might never wake up. Now, however, he was thinking of giving in.
Then he heard it.
Frodo heard a sound that was more beautiful to his ears than any sound in all of Middle Earth. He no longer wished to bury himself in the deathly cold snow and sleep. He wanted to be awake and see the owner of the voice.
"Mr. Frodo!"
"I'm here, Sam!" Frodo called in a weak voice.
He was afraid that his friend wouldn't be able to hear his feeble cry, but somehow Sam did. Soon Frodo saw through the thick, swirling snow a head of sandy curls bent against the icy wind. Frodo smiled, overjoyed at the sight of his friend.
"Sam!" Frodo said.
"Why master! Your face has gone blue in this cold!" exclaimed Sam, whose own nose and cheeks stung from the biting cold.
Frodo didn't reply, but shivered and brought his knees closer to his chest. Sam sat on the rock beside Frodo and examined him. He had grown thin and weak in his sorrow since Bilbo left, and here in this storm he looked even thinner and more helpless. Frodo wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm at a bit of a loss at what to do, Mr. Frodo," Sam admitted. "That log that was over the stream broke."
Frodo leaned against Sam's shoulder. "I'm so cold, Sam," he said quietly. "My hands..."
Sam took Frodo's hands and placed them together, palm to palm, then held them together with his own thicker, tanner hands. He kissed his master's frozen fingers.
"We'll get through this, master," Sam said encouragingly. "You'll see."
Frodo's wide blue eyes showed nothing but trust as he looked at Sam. "If you say we will, Sam, I know it's true."
Sam gave Frodo a half-smile before his master's head returned to his shoulder. He was now twice as determined to find a way out of their situation. He had to think. Sam had been here before, but that had been a while ago. He searched his memory for something helpful. After a minute or so he remembered something.
"Mr. Frodo!" he exclaimed. "There's a tree around here somewhere. A hollow tree that we can take shelter in! I think it's that one over there, but I can't be sure in this storm. We may as well go have a look." Sam stood up, still holding Frodo's hands. "Come on, Mr. Frodo. Up you get."
Frodo looked pitifully up at Sam. "I think my feet have frozen into the ground," he said.
"It's all right, master," Sam said comfortingly. "I'm sure they're not really frozen, but I'll lift you. Just get a good hold on my neck there. That's it. It's all right."
Carrying Frodo in his arms, Sam trudged over to what he thought looked like the hollow tree. He had been correct. There was a good-sized hole in the side of the tree that the hobbits could crawl into.
"Here we are, master."
"Can we both fit in there, Sam?" Frodo asked.
Sam frowned for a moment while he examined it, then said, "Yes, there is a way. I'll have to set you down for a moment."
Sam put Frodo down beside the opening, then crawled in. He sat cross-legged inside the tree, then called for Frodo to join him.
"Come, Mr. Frodo! Here, take my hand. That's it." Sam helped Frodo inside and gently pulled him onto his lap. Frodo instinctively curled up against Sam's chest, seeking what warmth he could. Sam wrapped his arms around Frodo and held him close to help warm him.
"We're out of the wind now, master," Sam said soothingly. "We'll be all right."
Frodo looked up at Sam. His face was still a deathly shade. Sam looked at him with concern. "We'll be all right," he repeated. He held his master's face in both hands and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs in an attempt to bring some life back into them. Frodo turned his piercing blue gaze on Sam and smiled at his concerned friend. "Dear Sam. I'm glad you're with me."
Sam smiled in return and kissed Frodo's forehead. "There's no place I'd rather be."
Frodo smiled, pleasantly surprised. In the midst of all the bitter cold, he had discovered a source of real warmth. "Why Sam! Your lips are warm!"
Sam licked his lips again and pressed an icy finger to his mouth. "Bless me, but they do! They seem to be the only part."
He kissed Frodo's forehead again, then kissed his icy nose.
Frodo smiled at the warmth. "Sam, you're a marvel! I believe you'd do anything to keep me safe."
"That I would, Mr. Frodo," Sam returned. He wrapped his arms around his master again and held him to his chest. "Sleep now, master dear. Your Sam is here."