Up in Arms
Frodo/Sam
Disclaimer: Tolkien's, not mine.
Author's Notes: As I said before, this is an AU. Thanks to everyone for all the nice reviews. Skye - I appreciate that you like my story, but please don't take it. I'd like to finish it on my own. =)
Chapter Two
The hands slowly wrapped around his neck, choking him. He gasped for air and screamed…
Sam jerked awake, coughing violently and gasping for air. Frodo, who was asleep beside him, woke up in a daze.
"What…oh…Sam? Sam!" He sat up quickly and propped Sam up, helping him to breathe.
Sam could vaguely make out the voice he was hearing. He couldn't resist it though, even if it was one of them. He was too tired and too weak to resist.
When Sam's coughing subsided, Frodo lied him back down on the blanket, stroking his hair gently. He was beginning to become scared for Sam's life. His fever had been steadily on the rise and feeling his head, he could tell it had risen in the night. He scrambled to get more water to cool him down, and on his way he ran into Aragorn.
"How is he?"
"Worse," Frodo said, hastily filling the bowl with water.
"Have you tried bathing him in the spring? The water is cold, it might help."
Frodo shook his head, "No, I haven't. Will you help me?"
"Of course."
They went into the tent where Sam was. He was tossing around on the blanket, in the middle of another vivid nightmare. "Shh…Sam…it's all right. I'm here." Frodo shook Sam's shoulder, trying to wake him up.
"Please…no…don't…" Sam whimpered. The images filling his mind were cold and cruel, threatening him with every torture imaginable.
He was in the corner like a scared little boy…
Frodo's voice came through the dream and he struggled to open his eyes. When he did, he was in Aragorn's arms, being carried out of the tent. He felt almost safe, pressed against the larger man's body. That was, until he saw the spring.
All of a sudden, Sam began kicking and yelling loudly. He tried to wriggle his way out of Aragorn's arms, but the ranger was much stronger. He kept a tight grip on the boy as he walked towards the spring.
When Sam was put into the spring, it felt as if he had been dropped into a tub full of ice. He continued to lash out at Aragorn, begging to be let go.
"Maybe we should let him go Strider, he seems to be hurting more than he should be." Frodo said, looking at Sam sympathetically.
Aragorn shook his head, "We have to lower his fever soon; we cannot linger here much longer."
Frodo nodded and looked on sympathetically.
Sam curled up against Aragorn's body as he was carried out of the spring, trying to warm himself with the body heat. He couldn't stop himself from shaking and the voices in his head were growing louder. He shuddered violently when Aragorn placed him down on the still-cold ground.
"Sam!" Frodo said loudly, noticing the way he had reacted
Aragorn had also noticed. He bent down and quickly dressed the hobbit, wrapping a thin blanket around him. He did not want the hobbit to be uncomfortable, but he was afraid that his temperature was still rising.
With the way his eyes were watering, Sam could barely make out who was standing in front of him. Judging by the voice, he was almost sure it was Frodo. "Mr. Frodo?"
"I'm here," Frodo said, kneeling down beside him.
~~~~~~~
Sam felt the fire coming down upon him, threatening to engulf him if he did not move. He struggled to stand, but was stopped by a pair of strong arms. He fought against them, screaming in rage. He wanted to get out. He needed to.
Sam woke up, screaming, in the arms of Boromir.
"Shh, little one." Boromir said, continuing to walk after the fellowship.
"Where are we going?" Sam asked, before rolling his head into Boromir's shirt. The aching in it was growing worse.
"We have to keep moving," Boromir said. He could see the confusion on the hobbit's face. He wondered if he even knew why he was there.
Sam's face was very pale and his breathing was labored. Boromir rubbed Sam's back, trying to loosen up his chest so he could breathe better. He did not know much about healing methods. His limited knowledge only covered how to keep injured warriors alive long enough to get them to safety. It was needless to say he had lost more men than he had saved.
Frodo had stayed behind the group to walk with Boromir, who had offered to carry Sam. He still did not trust him completely. There was something about him that he could not put his finger on. It was almost eerie.
When Sam awoke screaming, Frodo was immediately by his side, peering over Boromir's arms. Sam murmured something and Boromir answered before the hobbit turned restlessly and fell back into a state of near sleep. "Is he all right?" Frodo asked eagerly.
Boromir nodded, "He's all right, for now anyway."
The sound of Boromir's voice was not very comforting and he was almost happy when Gimli decided to check back on the trio. At least with Gimli, one knew what to expect.
"How is the hobbit?" He asked. While Frodo had been annoyed by his presence before, he was beginning to see the dwarf meant well.
"His fever is still high. The sooner we get to Lothlórien, the better."
Gimli cringed at the name of the Golden Wood, but agreed that Sam would be better cared for there. There was little they could do for him here.
Sam could hear voices, but it sounded like they were far above him. He strained to make out what they were saying and whom they were from, but his strength was failing. Blackness was threatening to overcome him and the last word he heard was, "better."
Frodo/Sam
Disclaimer: Tolkien's, not mine.
Author's Notes: As I said before, this is an AU. Thanks to everyone for all the nice reviews. Skye - I appreciate that you like my story, but please don't take it. I'd like to finish it on my own. =)
Chapter Two
The hands slowly wrapped around his neck, choking him. He gasped for air and screamed…
Sam jerked awake, coughing violently and gasping for air. Frodo, who was asleep beside him, woke up in a daze.
"What…oh…Sam? Sam!" He sat up quickly and propped Sam up, helping him to breathe.
Sam could vaguely make out the voice he was hearing. He couldn't resist it though, even if it was one of them. He was too tired and too weak to resist.
When Sam's coughing subsided, Frodo lied him back down on the blanket, stroking his hair gently. He was beginning to become scared for Sam's life. His fever had been steadily on the rise and feeling his head, he could tell it had risen in the night. He scrambled to get more water to cool him down, and on his way he ran into Aragorn.
"How is he?"
"Worse," Frodo said, hastily filling the bowl with water.
"Have you tried bathing him in the spring? The water is cold, it might help."
Frodo shook his head, "No, I haven't. Will you help me?"
"Of course."
They went into the tent where Sam was. He was tossing around on the blanket, in the middle of another vivid nightmare. "Shh…Sam…it's all right. I'm here." Frodo shook Sam's shoulder, trying to wake him up.
"Please…no…don't…" Sam whimpered. The images filling his mind were cold and cruel, threatening him with every torture imaginable.
He was in the corner like a scared little boy…
Frodo's voice came through the dream and he struggled to open his eyes. When he did, he was in Aragorn's arms, being carried out of the tent. He felt almost safe, pressed against the larger man's body. That was, until he saw the spring.
All of a sudden, Sam began kicking and yelling loudly. He tried to wriggle his way out of Aragorn's arms, but the ranger was much stronger. He kept a tight grip on the boy as he walked towards the spring.
When Sam was put into the spring, it felt as if he had been dropped into a tub full of ice. He continued to lash out at Aragorn, begging to be let go.
"Maybe we should let him go Strider, he seems to be hurting more than he should be." Frodo said, looking at Sam sympathetically.
Aragorn shook his head, "We have to lower his fever soon; we cannot linger here much longer."
Frodo nodded and looked on sympathetically.
Sam curled up against Aragorn's body as he was carried out of the spring, trying to warm himself with the body heat. He couldn't stop himself from shaking and the voices in his head were growing louder. He shuddered violently when Aragorn placed him down on the still-cold ground.
"Sam!" Frodo said loudly, noticing the way he had reacted
Aragorn had also noticed. He bent down and quickly dressed the hobbit, wrapping a thin blanket around him. He did not want the hobbit to be uncomfortable, but he was afraid that his temperature was still rising.
With the way his eyes were watering, Sam could barely make out who was standing in front of him. Judging by the voice, he was almost sure it was Frodo. "Mr. Frodo?"
"I'm here," Frodo said, kneeling down beside him.
Sam felt the fire coming down upon him, threatening to engulf him if he did not move. He struggled to stand, but was stopped by a pair of strong arms. He fought against them, screaming in rage. He wanted to get out. He needed to.
Sam woke up, screaming, in the arms of Boromir.
"Shh, little one." Boromir said, continuing to walk after the fellowship.
"Where are we going?" Sam asked, before rolling his head into Boromir's shirt. The aching in it was growing worse.
"We have to keep moving," Boromir said. He could see the confusion on the hobbit's face. He wondered if he even knew why he was there.
Sam's face was very pale and his breathing was labored. Boromir rubbed Sam's back, trying to loosen up his chest so he could breathe better. He did not know much about healing methods. His limited knowledge only covered how to keep injured warriors alive long enough to get them to safety. It was needless to say he had lost more men than he had saved.
Frodo had stayed behind the group to walk with Boromir, who had offered to carry Sam. He still did not trust him completely. There was something about him that he could not put his finger on. It was almost eerie.
When Sam awoke screaming, Frodo was immediately by his side, peering over Boromir's arms. Sam murmured something and Boromir answered before the hobbit turned restlessly and fell back into a state of near sleep. "Is he all right?" Frodo asked eagerly.
Boromir nodded, "He's all right, for now anyway."
The sound of Boromir's voice was not very comforting and he was almost happy when Gimli decided to check back on the trio. At least with Gimli, one knew what to expect.
"How is the hobbit?" He asked. While Frodo had been annoyed by his presence before, he was beginning to see the dwarf meant well.
"His fever is still high. The sooner we get to Lothlórien, the better."
Gimli cringed at the name of the Golden Wood, but agreed that Sam would be better cared for there. There was little they could do for him here.
Sam could hear voices, but it sounded like they were far above him. He strained to make out what they were saying and whom they were from, but his strength was failing. Blackness was threatening to overcome him and the last word he heard was, "better."