Chapter 11
Aragorn quickly put together a fire by the roadside and gave Frodo his cloak. Almost at once the hobbit fell to sleep, and Legolas and Aragorn sat wordlessly by the crackling blaze, their heads bent in thought and sorrow.
"I'm sorry," Legolas said presently, "I should not have brought him."
"What's past is past," His friend replied quietly.
"Will Sam's death be the end of Frodo?" The elf asked softly.
"If Sam is indeed dead."
"What do you mean?"
Aragorn raised his eyes, and they showed a faint glimmer of hope,
"I think that Gollum might be trying to use Sam as a snare to lure Frodo to him. As long as Frodo is alive, I believe that Smeágol will keep Sam alive."
Legolas stared at him, "Do you really think Sam could still be living?"
Aragorn rose to his feet and put his hand on the elf's shoulder, "Do not give up hope just yet."
***
Sam felt incredibly sick and thirsty when he woke, and everything seemed blurred and obscured. An immense pounding in the side of his head made his eyes heavy, and he had a strange metallic flavour in his mouth, like the taste of blood. His arms were raised and secured above his head, and as his senses sharpened the hobbit realised that he was in a clearing amongst some trees and he was tied up. A fire spluttered and sparked only several feet away, and behind the fire he saw a creature, sitting on its haunches and eating something. He recognised it immediately as Gollum.
The hobbit took a closer look at his surroundings, wondering in utter confusion if he was in Mordor. But that thought was soon expelled from his mind as he took in the beautiful green trees that surrounded him. Nothing that lovely had ever grown in Mordor.
Smeágol suddenly looked up and saw that Sam was awake. He stole closer, a low hiss escaping his mouth. Sam narrowed his eyes in repulsion.
"Nasssty hobbit...susspiciousss hobbit...we'll teach him a lessssson won't we my preciousss?"
Gollum drew so near that he was only inches away from the hobbit, and Sam took every fibre of hatred in his body and spat savagely into the creature's wretched face.
Smeágol let out a cry of anger and ran back to the fire, only to return seconds later with a small blade that Sam recognised as his own. Gollum held it to Sam's cheek, a thin smile on his lips. Sam tried not to let the fear show in his expression as the metal grazed his skin.
"You will be nice to ussss, nasssty hobbit or I will kill you...yess ssslit you open...ssslit you... just like I did to your friend..."
Sam stared at Smeágol, the anger in his eyes replaced with concern,
"What do you mean? Where is Mr. Frodo?"
"Hisss body issss in those treess..." Gollum replied, gesturing behind him but never letting his eyes leave Sam's.
Sam's face formed an expression of pure detesting,
"You're lying!"
Smeágol did not reply, but his malicious smile widened and he applied more pressure to the knife. Sam felt the blade break his skin and he saw his own crimson blood trickle over the metal and down the hilt.
Satisfied, Gollum took the blade away and went back to the fire to finished his meal. Sam watched him, a mixture of emotions enveloping his mind. The strongest of all was the inconceivable anxiety he felt towards his master, and he felt tears creep into his eyes as he imagined Frodo's body, sprawled behind the trees, stabbed and slashed and stained in blood. He shivered suddenly and felt weariness overcome him. He let sleep consume him, unable to see any purpose in staying awake.
***
The shock of Sam's death hit Frodo again when he woke, and he lay, clutching Aragorn's cloak and shivering against the cold that had seemed to besiege him. He kept his eyes shut, and he vaguely heard voices, though they sounded very faint.
"...Frodo will want to aid us in the search..."
"I think it is best not to tell him. There is no point building up his hopes, and if we do find Sam then Gollum is sure to be waiting for us."
"Do you wish me to escort him back to Rivendell?"
"I think that would be for the best."
Frodo felt an immense joy wash over him as he realised what they were saying. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, his limbs stiff and aching.
"How are you feeling?" Aragorn asked gently, watching him in concern.
"I'm going to help you search for Sam," He told them determinedly.
Aragorn and Legolas exchanged an uneasy glance,
"No Frodo. I shouldn't have let you come with me in the first place, you're definitely not strong enough to search in the cold. You should be in bed, resting."
Frodo couldn't build up the stamina to argue, so he fell silent and watched his friends.
"I'll take Frodo back," Legolas told Aragorn, getting to his feet and going to retrieve his steed which was grazing peacefully by the river.
"I'm not going back." Frodo muttered, and Aragorn sighed,
"Frodo, we don't want to see you get hurt..."
"I am already hurt!" Frodo cried, his voice loud but shaking, "I need Sam! I need to know that he is all right! This is my fault Aragorn, and I have to set things right!"
Aragorn considered him gravely for a few moments, before turning to the elf,
"Legolas, Frodo will come with us."
Legolas raised his eyebrows but did not say anything, and Frodo raised his eyes to his friend with an expression of deep gratitude,
"Thankyou."
Aragorn nodded, looking angry with himself, before getting to his feet,
"Come then," He ordered, "We can ride into the forest, for it is quite sparse. Frodo, you take Sam's horse. We'll search until we find him."
Next chapter up soon