"No!" was Sam's final resolve as he took no more heed to what was "proper"
or being obedient to his master. He felt rage and love shoot through his
veins and fire smoulder in his eyes. He could not let this happen not while
he still drew breath. His mind seemed to travel back to everything he knew
to be the Frodo that once was. All of those good things in that one person,
he just had to believe that they could come back, that Frodo could come
back! Sam lunged at his master and pried Sting from his grasp.
Frodo cried out at his one chance for escape as it slipped right from his hands. He cursed himself for having such a light grip. He cursed Sam for taking that chance away from him. He cursed Sam for caring about his life, for loving him the way he did, for giving up everything even life just so he could endure another day. Because that's what Sam did. He gave up food, water, everything just so that he may be by Frodo's side till the end. And now that the end had come Sam took it away. His Sam! The one that he thought he could trust beyond all others!
Frodo's hand clawed onto the sword as if it were his one link to salvation. His one chance left to be free and no longer condemned as a miserable pitiable wretch. His eyes blazed at Sam as his hands left the sword hilt and he raised a hand with one final cry and curse. With a terrible smack Sam fell to the ground, the sword flew behind him and Frodo fell knocking his head on the cruel rock.
Sam rubbed his cheek where Frodo's hand had assaulted him but he had no time to feel bitter. He felt the rage slowly drain from him leaving behind an undeniable sorrow that filled his eyes and trailed down his cheeks as he rushed to his master's side.
"Mr. Frodo! I'm sorry but I just couldn't let you! I just couldn't!"
Frodo groaned and lifted his head. He ran his hand along his curls and touched the soar flesh in the back of his head. He brought his hand back around and Sam gasped in horror. Frodo tried to focus his eyes on his hand and saw the blood dabbed along his fingers and sluggishly running down his palm. He mused slightly and turned his hand about. Yes that was blood. His blood.
"Oh." He mused aloud and then fell back.
Sam caught Frodo as his body wavered and held him close. "This is all my fault!" He groaned feeling pain well up in his heart.
"No," Frodo gasped holding onto consciousness, "It's better this way Sam."
"But why master? What's happened? Why don't I remember? Days and days how long was I off my head? What's happened?"
"The water." Frodo motioned to the canteen, "You couldn't go without it. So I-" he gasped the pain in his head was so great. It throbbed so much. But he had to tell Sam now, he had to leave him and he had to tell him why. "I kept you alive. That was my quest Sam. Not the Ring. I know now that what I had to do has been done. You finish the rest, Sam. And maybe they'll tell tales and lays about us and they might not know why Samwise The Brave's master had to leave in the end. But I just want you to know. You deserve to know, Sam."
"Oh master! You don't have to go! You saved me! Now it's my turn!"
"No, Sam!" Frodo caught Sam by the collar, "You need to know. It's the Ring. It attaches itself to you, imbeds itself into your very being. I am a part of it now. It will never leave me or if it does it will leave a- it will leave a hole. Just an empty space. There's a creature inside of me I never want you to see. I don't want him to get to you too. Not my Sam. You have to stay just as perfect as you are so that you can go back. Mine was a small sacrifice so that you may stay pure."
"But, Mr. Frodo."
"No Sam. No 'Mr.' You are the best friend I ever had. I cannot tell you in words how good you are to me and I don't deserve you as a friend."
"Oh master I can't let this happen. Forgive me!" Sam rushed from his master's side and grabbed the canteen. When he returned Frodo was lying quietly and breathing rather slowly. Sam fell to his knees and tore at his shirt. He formed a compress, as Frodo had done for him, and dipped it in the canteen. He pulled it tight around his master's brow and scooped the small body in his arms.
"Forgive me for saving you," Sam whispered.
Frodo tried to pull himself back to consciousness. He could see Sam's face swimming in his line of vision and could feel the cool band around his head. His hands gripped Sam's collar as he was lifted off the ground and he mumbled something incoherent. When he felt his voice return he tried to explain to Sam again.
"I forgive you Sam. Forgive me."
"What for?" Sam looked down at his master.
"Forgive me for what I will do. It won't be me."
Sam was quiet. He did not want to say he didn't understand but he just couldn't. Frodo knew this no matter how hard he tried. Sam would never understand. This was why he loved him. Sam would never be touched by that accursed Ring. And now Frodo knew why he could not let go. He could not let Sam be touched by that foul thing not even for the last gasp of their journey.
"Sam I cannot walk any more. I will never make it up the mountain."
"I will carry you, sir. If it breaks my back and my heart I'll do it."
Frodo looked around their small safe hold. "Leave everything we will no longer need it."
Sam nodded sorrowfully, "I know."
"Finish the water, I want you to. Don't protest!" Frodo held up a hand, "I suffered the journey to get it I decide what to do with it. You drink it."
Sam nodded and cried as he drank the last gulp in the canteen and gathered his broken master up into his arms. "Come now, Frodo, we'll make it."
Sam left their little safe hold where he had been nursed by his master back to substantial health, and his and Frodo's life had been saved yet again. He sighed and lifted Frodo marveling at his feather lightness. Sam's weary eyes slowly traveled up the rocky mountain that seemed to stick so cruelly out of the ground like a bone jolted out of its socket and jutting out of the skin. Sam shuttered at the thought. He took the first step and felt the fierce stone jut into his skin and draw blood from his raw feet. He grimaced and thought for a moment Frodo would feel his body shutter but the older hobbit did not move or give any sign of consciousness.
"That's it Mr. Frodo, you rest now, your Sam will take care of you."
Sam lifted his feet a little higher and placed them as gently as he could on the stone. He cringed as dirt mingled with his blood and stung his poor feet. "Not a break. Not yet." He struggled on and wove between the huge stones piercing the sky. He looked from one to another and huffed as his breath became ragged. "Ain't gettin' nowhere like this. Wish there were a straight road or-" he gasped again trying to regain a steady breathing, "or- something-" He shot his eyes from rock to rock and sneered at their ugly faces. "This mountain is the foulest thing I ever seen."
No response came from Frodo who seemed awfully limp and cold. Sam shook his head. This would not do. He would make sure his master ate up proper and got back to his normal health when they returned home. He sighed, it was hard to think of home with all these nasty looking stones and rock staring at him.
He looked to the sky for some sign of anything fair or undefiled. The sky was no better. It roved above him like some repulsive cloud of smoke and filth. There was a red dot somewhere in the distance and as Sam saw it he felt his heart quail and something seize him like the cold grip of an iron hand. He froze for a moment and his hand twitched as his eyes locked on that point of fiery light. One hand slowly reached towards the neck of his small burden but Sam quickly stopped himself and gasped. "What am I doin!" He narrowed his eyes into a feral glare. "Ah, curses to ye!" He cried at the light, "Samwise Gamgee ain't so easily caught off guard!" And with that he stamped of not heeding the pinprick of pain shooting through his sore feet.
He mumbled a bit cursing at the tricks of that nasty Ring when he felt he could not longer go on. He sat down and lay his master on the smoothest surface he could find. "I'm sorry sir, but just a short rest. My feet are achin' me so. At least you're gettin' some rest now, sir." Sam looked down at the ashen face of his master. Why had he been so limp? So cold?
"Frodo?"
The silence was almost as cruel as the mountain itself. Sam knelt down and ran his hands along his master's brow. "Oh master! Do not be dead! You can't be!"
"Shh, Sam," came Frodo's weak reply. His eyes were still closed and his face seemed stony and pale.
Sam felt his heart leap for joy. "Oh master!" He embraced Frodo too full of joy to care anymore. Frodo grunted at the sudden jolt of his body but a small smile twitched across his features.
"Dear Sam I won't leave you just yet. But I am-" Frodo's mind seemed to wander and his body eased as if in sleep.
"Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo jerked out of sleep and his lids opened halfway to show a pale glitter in his eyes. The color was undistinguishable now and they seemed a faded grey to the vibrant color they once were. "Yes Sam?"
Sam was silent and just lay next to his master and looked to the sky. Frodo eased back into sleep again comforted in having Sam back and in full health. Sam closed his eyes but he could not help feel as if he were being watched. He sensed a presence and he did not like it. A few minutes later as sleep still was distant to him he opened his eyes at the thought of hearing a low hissing in his ear, right next to him. But it couldn't be, the closest being to him was Frodo. And this could not come from his dear Mr. Frodo. Something that sounded like "my preciouss" He shuttered and turned to his master who seemed to be sleeping fretfully. His brow creased with worry and his eyes clenched tight. Sam sighed and turned back on his side to see a small shadowy figure dart in the distance and two pale eyes gleam at him from the darkness then melt into the shadows of the rocks once more. He shuttered and sat up.
"Don't look like I'll be gettin' any sleep tonight. Not with that slinking Gollum on our tracks, that wretched thing."
He heard a whimper next to him and turned to see Frodo had turned away from him. Sam just sighed figuring it was a dream fretting his master. He began to hum a low tune he could remember hearing recently.
Beyond all towers strong and high. Beyond all mountains steep.
~~~
Frodo leaned back trying to focus through his half-closed eyelids. As he slowly drifted to and from sleep he breathed more slowly with almost an air of peace about him. But what he heard escape from his own lips made his blood run cold and his heart sink; "my preciouss". His eyes clenched tightly closed and he wished to Elbereth that Sam did not hear. What next met his ears made his heart wrench with pain though it sounded fuzzy and far away.
".slinking Gollum.wretched thing."
Was that Sam who had been so cruel? But then he didn't know, he would never understand. It wasn't his fault. Frodo whimpered and turned to his side, tears streaming down his cheeks. Sam may love his master with all of his heart but he hates Gollum with all of his being. How would he ever accept this new creature Frodo was? This half-pure, half-wretch? Frodo stifled a few coughs that seemed to rise up in his throat and as they squeaked out they made a croaking "gollum" sound. At hearing this he felt despair rise up in him and stifled a cry of self hate. He smothered the rest of his chokes and cries so that Sam would not hear and silently cried himself to sleep wishing he still had Sting or that the head wound would slowly but surely claim his life. Sam couldn't know. He could never know that this was who his master was becoming.
Soon enough the dull ache in his head and the warm feel of blood slowly leaking and sticking to his curls lulled Frodo into a dreamless state and a bitter cold seemed to fill his weakening body. Something besides Gollum lurked in the shadows that night and it had the patience and icy feel of.. death.
Frodo cried out at his one chance for escape as it slipped right from his hands. He cursed himself for having such a light grip. He cursed Sam for taking that chance away from him. He cursed Sam for caring about his life, for loving him the way he did, for giving up everything even life just so he could endure another day. Because that's what Sam did. He gave up food, water, everything just so that he may be by Frodo's side till the end. And now that the end had come Sam took it away. His Sam! The one that he thought he could trust beyond all others!
Frodo's hand clawed onto the sword as if it were his one link to salvation. His one chance left to be free and no longer condemned as a miserable pitiable wretch. His eyes blazed at Sam as his hands left the sword hilt and he raised a hand with one final cry and curse. With a terrible smack Sam fell to the ground, the sword flew behind him and Frodo fell knocking his head on the cruel rock.
Sam rubbed his cheek where Frodo's hand had assaulted him but he had no time to feel bitter. He felt the rage slowly drain from him leaving behind an undeniable sorrow that filled his eyes and trailed down his cheeks as he rushed to his master's side.
"Mr. Frodo! I'm sorry but I just couldn't let you! I just couldn't!"
Frodo groaned and lifted his head. He ran his hand along his curls and touched the soar flesh in the back of his head. He brought his hand back around and Sam gasped in horror. Frodo tried to focus his eyes on his hand and saw the blood dabbed along his fingers and sluggishly running down his palm. He mused slightly and turned his hand about. Yes that was blood. His blood.
"Oh." He mused aloud and then fell back.
Sam caught Frodo as his body wavered and held him close. "This is all my fault!" He groaned feeling pain well up in his heart.
"No," Frodo gasped holding onto consciousness, "It's better this way Sam."
"But why master? What's happened? Why don't I remember? Days and days how long was I off my head? What's happened?"
"The water." Frodo motioned to the canteen, "You couldn't go without it. So I-" he gasped the pain in his head was so great. It throbbed so much. But he had to tell Sam now, he had to leave him and he had to tell him why. "I kept you alive. That was my quest Sam. Not the Ring. I know now that what I had to do has been done. You finish the rest, Sam. And maybe they'll tell tales and lays about us and they might not know why Samwise The Brave's master had to leave in the end. But I just want you to know. You deserve to know, Sam."
"Oh master! You don't have to go! You saved me! Now it's my turn!"
"No, Sam!" Frodo caught Sam by the collar, "You need to know. It's the Ring. It attaches itself to you, imbeds itself into your very being. I am a part of it now. It will never leave me or if it does it will leave a- it will leave a hole. Just an empty space. There's a creature inside of me I never want you to see. I don't want him to get to you too. Not my Sam. You have to stay just as perfect as you are so that you can go back. Mine was a small sacrifice so that you may stay pure."
"But, Mr. Frodo."
"No Sam. No 'Mr.' You are the best friend I ever had. I cannot tell you in words how good you are to me and I don't deserve you as a friend."
"Oh master I can't let this happen. Forgive me!" Sam rushed from his master's side and grabbed the canteen. When he returned Frodo was lying quietly and breathing rather slowly. Sam fell to his knees and tore at his shirt. He formed a compress, as Frodo had done for him, and dipped it in the canteen. He pulled it tight around his master's brow and scooped the small body in his arms.
"Forgive me for saving you," Sam whispered.
Frodo tried to pull himself back to consciousness. He could see Sam's face swimming in his line of vision and could feel the cool band around his head. His hands gripped Sam's collar as he was lifted off the ground and he mumbled something incoherent. When he felt his voice return he tried to explain to Sam again.
"I forgive you Sam. Forgive me."
"What for?" Sam looked down at his master.
"Forgive me for what I will do. It won't be me."
Sam was quiet. He did not want to say he didn't understand but he just couldn't. Frodo knew this no matter how hard he tried. Sam would never understand. This was why he loved him. Sam would never be touched by that accursed Ring. And now Frodo knew why he could not let go. He could not let Sam be touched by that foul thing not even for the last gasp of their journey.
"Sam I cannot walk any more. I will never make it up the mountain."
"I will carry you, sir. If it breaks my back and my heart I'll do it."
Frodo looked around their small safe hold. "Leave everything we will no longer need it."
Sam nodded sorrowfully, "I know."
"Finish the water, I want you to. Don't protest!" Frodo held up a hand, "I suffered the journey to get it I decide what to do with it. You drink it."
Sam nodded and cried as he drank the last gulp in the canteen and gathered his broken master up into his arms. "Come now, Frodo, we'll make it."
Sam left their little safe hold where he had been nursed by his master back to substantial health, and his and Frodo's life had been saved yet again. He sighed and lifted Frodo marveling at his feather lightness. Sam's weary eyes slowly traveled up the rocky mountain that seemed to stick so cruelly out of the ground like a bone jolted out of its socket and jutting out of the skin. Sam shuttered at the thought. He took the first step and felt the fierce stone jut into his skin and draw blood from his raw feet. He grimaced and thought for a moment Frodo would feel his body shutter but the older hobbit did not move or give any sign of consciousness.
"That's it Mr. Frodo, you rest now, your Sam will take care of you."
Sam lifted his feet a little higher and placed them as gently as he could on the stone. He cringed as dirt mingled with his blood and stung his poor feet. "Not a break. Not yet." He struggled on and wove between the huge stones piercing the sky. He looked from one to another and huffed as his breath became ragged. "Ain't gettin' nowhere like this. Wish there were a straight road or-" he gasped again trying to regain a steady breathing, "or- something-" He shot his eyes from rock to rock and sneered at their ugly faces. "This mountain is the foulest thing I ever seen."
No response came from Frodo who seemed awfully limp and cold. Sam shook his head. This would not do. He would make sure his master ate up proper and got back to his normal health when they returned home. He sighed, it was hard to think of home with all these nasty looking stones and rock staring at him.
He looked to the sky for some sign of anything fair or undefiled. The sky was no better. It roved above him like some repulsive cloud of smoke and filth. There was a red dot somewhere in the distance and as Sam saw it he felt his heart quail and something seize him like the cold grip of an iron hand. He froze for a moment and his hand twitched as his eyes locked on that point of fiery light. One hand slowly reached towards the neck of his small burden but Sam quickly stopped himself and gasped. "What am I doin!" He narrowed his eyes into a feral glare. "Ah, curses to ye!" He cried at the light, "Samwise Gamgee ain't so easily caught off guard!" And with that he stamped of not heeding the pinprick of pain shooting through his sore feet.
He mumbled a bit cursing at the tricks of that nasty Ring when he felt he could not longer go on. He sat down and lay his master on the smoothest surface he could find. "I'm sorry sir, but just a short rest. My feet are achin' me so. At least you're gettin' some rest now, sir." Sam looked down at the ashen face of his master. Why had he been so limp? So cold?
"Frodo?"
The silence was almost as cruel as the mountain itself. Sam knelt down and ran his hands along his master's brow. "Oh master! Do not be dead! You can't be!"
"Shh, Sam," came Frodo's weak reply. His eyes were still closed and his face seemed stony and pale.
Sam felt his heart leap for joy. "Oh master!" He embraced Frodo too full of joy to care anymore. Frodo grunted at the sudden jolt of his body but a small smile twitched across his features.
"Dear Sam I won't leave you just yet. But I am-" Frodo's mind seemed to wander and his body eased as if in sleep.
"Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo jerked out of sleep and his lids opened halfway to show a pale glitter in his eyes. The color was undistinguishable now and they seemed a faded grey to the vibrant color they once were. "Yes Sam?"
Sam was silent and just lay next to his master and looked to the sky. Frodo eased back into sleep again comforted in having Sam back and in full health. Sam closed his eyes but he could not help feel as if he were being watched. He sensed a presence and he did not like it. A few minutes later as sleep still was distant to him he opened his eyes at the thought of hearing a low hissing in his ear, right next to him. But it couldn't be, the closest being to him was Frodo. And this could not come from his dear Mr. Frodo. Something that sounded like "my preciouss" He shuttered and turned to his master who seemed to be sleeping fretfully. His brow creased with worry and his eyes clenched tight. Sam sighed and turned back on his side to see a small shadowy figure dart in the distance and two pale eyes gleam at him from the darkness then melt into the shadows of the rocks once more. He shuttered and sat up.
"Don't look like I'll be gettin' any sleep tonight. Not with that slinking Gollum on our tracks, that wretched thing."
He heard a whimper next to him and turned to see Frodo had turned away from him. Sam just sighed figuring it was a dream fretting his master. He began to hum a low tune he could remember hearing recently.
Beyond all towers strong and high. Beyond all mountains steep.
~~~
Frodo leaned back trying to focus through his half-closed eyelids. As he slowly drifted to and from sleep he breathed more slowly with almost an air of peace about him. But what he heard escape from his own lips made his blood run cold and his heart sink; "my preciouss". His eyes clenched tightly closed and he wished to Elbereth that Sam did not hear. What next met his ears made his heart wrench with pain though it sounded fuzzy and far away.
".slinking Gollum.wretched thing."
Was that Sam who had been so cruel? But then he didn't know, he would never understand. It wasn't his fault. Frodo whimpered and turned to his side, tears streaming down his cheeks. Sam may love his master with all of his heart but he hates Gollum with all of his being. How would he ever accept this new creature Frodo was? This half-pure, half-wretch? Frodo stifled a few coughs that seemed to rise up in his throat and as they squeaked out they made a croaking "gollum" sound. At hearing this he felt despair rise up in him and stifled a cry of self hate. He smothered the rest of his chokes and cries so that Sam would not hear and silently cried himself to sleep wishing he still had Sting or that the head wound would slowly but surely claim his life. Sam couldn't know. He could never know that this was who his master was becoming.
Soon enough the dull ache in his head and the warm feel of blood slowly leaking and sticking to his curls lulled Frodo into a dreamless state and a bitter cold seemed to fill his weakening body. Something besides Gollum lurked in the shadows that night and it had the patience and icy feel of.. death.