A/N: An introspective piece that expands on the events of The Two Towers. I was just getting the feel of writing these two characters. Their relationship is complex, and when you throw Gollum into the mix... The power of the Ring has started to really warp Frodo's thinking--it sort of wrote itself that way. There may be another chapter, I don't know. I guess this is preslash-- I fully believe in Sam/Frodo. Oh, and obviously they're not mine.

Good Sam

The creature was pawing at Frodo, rubbing his arm, and for a moment Sam was so blinded by anger that he nearly forgot where they were- but that the place would not let itself be forgotten. Besides, it is not wise to be anything but cautious when the Black Gates of Mordor lie directly in front of you.

So Sam swallowed his anger, pushed away the hurt that came from his Master showing favor to Gollum and not to him. Frodo caught his glance and matched it with his own stubbornness-- and that wasn't fair because Mr. Frodo knew that Sam would do whatever he asked. Sam lowered his head and followed his Master, who followed the creature, leading them all into treachery.

Frodo walked about as if in a mist. Sometimes it would wear off and he would look around in great clarity, other times he was barely aware of what he was saying or doing-- all he could feel was the Ring, calling to him, singing to him, lulling him--- constantly betraying him. So Frodo snarled at Sam, didn't even realize what he was saying, he just had to lash out, to hurt... and oh, Samwise was so easily bruised, sweet Sam, Sam the Gardener who should not have come. Loyal Sam.

"What would you know about it? Nothing!" Apologies fell easily from his lips, and nothing could take away the satisfaction of causing pain. Smeagol seemed to watch this with thin, smirking lips and a head full of warped desire and hatred. Frodo was drawn to the wretched creature, like he had told Sam, he had to believe that there was some way to be redeemed after being marked by the Ring. Had to. Even though, in his heart, Frodo knew there would be no coming back-- if they were lucky enough to get into Mordor there was no possible way of leaving it, Frodo needed to have hope, or he'd give up. Frodo tried to find the goodness he had to believe was in Smeagol. Of course he knew the pain he was causing Sam; Smeagol knew too. Sam was jealous of the attention Frodo was nearly lavishing upon the hopeless thing, and both past and present Ring-bearers delighted in it. They fed upon his pain because they were bad and he was good, and so the corruption spreads.

Then, the Captain of Gondor captured them, and Frodo lived in fear, he forgot about the perverse pleasure of torturing his companion. He feared the Ring would be taken from him, and not just for the sake of the quest. It was his Ring, his precious!

He could feel the blade against his flesh, cold steel that matched Faramir's eyes as the Ring called to the man, seduced him. Faramir fell, and they were taken to Osgilliath, which also had fallen.

Suddenly, the cold came back, froze him, and he went to it, the Ringwraith was calling him, he was chained, there was a terrible screaming in his head that he just couldn't be bothered about--

Something knocked into him heavily, there was a whoosh of wings above him and an unearthly shriek, and then their two bodies tumbling down the stairs but all Frodo could think was that someone had tried to take his Ring! Sting was in his hand in an instant; Frodo couldn't even see, not really, and there was warm blood waiting to be spilled...

"...Don't you know your own Sam?" Frodo blinked, saw Sam, saw the tears on his face, Sting digging into his chin. Horror overcame him and he dropped the weapon as if it were on fire. Everything became so clear to him, he felt the Ring but it no longer appealed to him.

"I can't do this."

Sam had faith in his Master. Sam had faith in the world. Sam said that there was some good in the world, and that was what was worth fighting for. Good Sam. Sam was worth fighting for, but Frodo didn't tell him that.

He told him in the only way he knew how. "Frodo wouldn't have got very far without Sam."

"Now, Mr. Frodo, don't make fun. I was being serious."

"So was I."

He felt the smile that grew on Sam's face and basked in it.

It felt good to hurt Sam, but it also felt good to be with Sam. Sam was always there, willing to be hurt. He would hold Frodo when the pain became too much, wrap him in warmth when he was cold, because Sam was good, and Sam belonged to him... and if Sam was his, then he must be good, too. At least, that's what he told himself.

End

I know, weird. It's a different style for me, and the ending isn't sappy. It's... twisted in that Frodo believes Sam belongs to him in much the same way the Ring does. I'm not sure if I like this or not. eh. Review?

~RainShadow