Title: Nice Hobbit
Author/Email: Anemone Frost/weepingwillow987@aol.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The call of the Ring takes its first, drastic toll on Frodo. Sam also hears the call and finds himself in an unwanted position.
Feedback: Yes, please. I live for reviews. ;)
Warnings: Mild violence, angst. Sam acting a bit nastier than normal.
Archive: Hm, if you think it's good enough. Contact me first.
A/N: This doesn't necessarily follow the book or the movie, though some parts may, so it's AU.
Another day had passed, leaving both hobbits weary. Sam had set up a small fire while Gollum wandered off into the desolate wilderness. Frodo knelt near the fire, his fingers rubbing circles around his chest where the Ring lay underneath. Sam frowned, but decided to say nothing, rummaging the ground for more twigs to feed to the fire.
"Sam?" Frodo said, his voice so soft, almost a mere whisper.
The other hobbit turned. "Yes, Mr. Frodo?"
"I want to apologize, for– for everything," Frodo choked. "I know I've been a monster to you— "
Sam shook his head, smiling faintly. "There's no need for that Mr. Frodo. It wasn't your doing. It was the Ring. I know you would never— "
"No Sam," Frodo interrupted. "That is no excuse for my behavior. You are such a dear friend and I have not been treating you as such for a while now." He lowered his head. "I know why you feel such animosity towards Smeagol, and I suppose I cannot blame you for that."
Sam blinked. "Beggin' your pardon, Mr. Frodo?"
"Come now, Sam," Frodo chuckled darkly. "I know why you've been trying to attack him, and it's not from overprotectiveness. You're jealous, aren't you Sam?"
Sam was grateful for the dark of night, otherwise Frodo would have seen his cheeks turning a smoldering red. He had not known his behavior was so obvious.
"I won't lie, Mr. Frodo," Sam stuttered. "I have been feeling that way for some time. I can't help it, though, sir. You're placing so much trust into that Stinker and you act as if I'm the one that's goin' to steal the Ring!"
"I know, Sam," Frodo sighed. "I'm so sorry— "
"Then, please, tell me why!" Sam snapped, his tone gruffer than intended. "Why do you give him so much sympathy!"
"Because!" Frodo yelled, bitterness flooding into his tone. "When I look at him— I see me! I want to believe he can be brought back from the darkness, because I am slowly being drawn into it! The darkness is starting to swallow me, Sam. Every day the Ring beckons me and every day I grow weaker and weaker to its call! I hear soft whispers in the night, telling me to do things, awful things."
A shiver ran down Sam's spine at the recollection of his own temptation the other night. He couldn't begin to imagine how strong the call was for Frodo.
Frodo's eyes welded, and the tears began to slide down. "I fear that I'm going to become just like him, Sam. I don't want to be turned into another Gollum! If he can't be saved, than what hope is there for me?!" He hunched over pitifully, sobs racking through his throat. "I don't— I don't— "
Sam rushed to his master's side, and embraced him tightly. "You aren't anythin' like him, Mr. Frodo! You have a kind, wonderful soul! Your Sam will see to it that it stays that way. I'm here for you, sir. Nothin' like that is going to happen to you. Besides, your stronger than that rotten creature. You can fight it. Look how long you've lasted already."
Frodo fiercely shook his head. "Yes, but for how much longer? My strength and mind are failing me, Sam. Soon, there will be nothing left of me for you to recognize."
"Frodo, no!" Sam cried, crushing the hobbit against him. "You know that's not true! Please, don't say such things about yourself. It frightens me."
Frodo trembled violently in his arms, and roughly jerked away from Sam's embrace. He reached into his tunic, pulling out the Ring, which glimmered in the firelight. Tears were streaming down his face.
"How I hate this vile thing!" Frodo spat. "I hate how it's ruining me! I wish I could be rid of the cursed thing! I hate carrying it! I hate it! I hate it!"
Sam gasped in shock as Frodo tore the chain from his neck and flung the Ring to the ground, landing a few inches from his feet. His master's fit surprised him. It was the first time that he had seen Frodo trying to part from the trinket. However, he was almost certain that Frodo would reach back down for it. He wouldn't leave it lying on the ground, but he kept staring at it, making no effort to scoop it back up. Sam glanced down at the shimmering object, and extended his hand, his only intent on lifting it up to give it back to Frodo. His fingers only had a chance to graze the surface.
A strangled cry escaped Sam's lips as he was ferociously struck across the cheek, sending a wave of throbbing agony along his face. The force of the hit sent him reeling across the dirt and once he stopped, he gazed back at his master. The flickering flames sent shadows dancing over the dark features of his master. There was a blazing glint in the frosty eyes, but it wasn't from the flames of the fire. Frodo's teeth were bared in a snarl, and his fists were clenched tightly. For the first time, Sam was genuinely terrified of his master.
"Mr. Frodo, I was only tryin'– " Sam began.
"To take it?!" Frodo hissed. "You were trying to claim it for yourself, weren't you?! How dare you touch it! How dare you try to take it from me!"
"No, Mr. Frodo!" Sam wailed, pleading desperately with Frodo. "I would never do that!"
"Don't lie to me, you pathetic servant!" Frodo snarled, bearing down on the other hobbit.
Sam moved to crawl away, but Frodo was faster. The hobbit tangled his fingers in the other's locks, drawing Sam's head back at a painful angle. Sam whimpered, and clutched at his master's hands, attempting to pry them without hurting him. Frodo was unbelievably strong, though. Sam could guess where the new strength was coming from.
"Please, Mr. Frodo, you're hurting me," Sam sobbed.
"Good! You deserve no less!" Frodo growled, tugging hard on Sam's scalp. "I've seen the way you eye the Ring. All this time, you were plotting to take it from me! You're no better than that Gollum creature! You've been keeping my attention on him, so I wouldn't suspect you of wanting it!"
"No, Mr. Frodo!" Sam begged. "That's no true! I only kept warnin' you about him because I didn't want him to hurt you!"
"More lies!" Frodo shouted, shoving Sam face first into the dirt. "I see everything so clearly now." Sam's eyes grew wide when he heard the familiar scraping of a sword being drawn out. "I won't let you have it!"
"No," Sam whimpered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Are you going to lay there and allow him to do this to you?
'No, not this again!' Sam cried to himself.
Fight back, Samwise Gamgee. Fight back!
'I can't hurt my master!' Sam screamed, clutching at his head.
The hobbit quickly rolled to the side as Sting slammed into the earth where he previously laid.
You see that?! Your dear master just attempted to slice your back open! Fight back! Put him in his place!
'Get out of my mind!' Sam wailed.
The hobbit gazed into Frodo's eyes with a pleading look. Frodo's eyes had darkened and there was nothing but a foul fury shining back at him. Sweat was trickling down his brow, and his chest rose in ragged breaths. His arm was trembling where he held the blade, as if he were trying to fight some unseen force that was keeping the sword in his palm.
"Mr. Frodo— " Sam whispered in despair.
Frodo lunged for him, swiping madly at the other. Sam backed away, narrowly avoiding the sharp steel that swung at his neck.
Fight him! Kill him! Take the Ring!
Sam's eyes burned with tears. The sound was overwhelming, repeating over and over in his mind. He drew out his blade and rammed it against Frodo's, causing the other to gap in shock. He knew he had to subdue Frodo, but he didn't want to hurt his master. He gazed into Frodo's eyes, finding nothing but a face contorted with hate and a murderous rage.
'He's trying to hurt you, Sam Gamgee,' the hobbit tried to justify. 'Make him stop, but don't harm him, much.'
Sam groaned as he slammed his fist into the side of Frodo's head. The sickening thud made his stomach lurch over. Frodo fell back, losing his grip on the sword. Sam was at his side in an instant, weeping bitterly, rubbing and kissing at the forming bruise on Frodo's temple. The hobbit was limp in his arms.
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, I'm sorry!" Sam wept. "I didn't mean to do it! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for hurting you! Please, forgive me, master!"
Sam felt a gentle hand cupping his cheek, making him gaze down into Frodo's eyes. His face was worn and his blue eyes almost seemed hollow, devoid of any emotion. He was rubbing at Sam's swelling cheek.
"Oh, Sam, what have I done to you?" Frodo whispered. "I've just tried to kill you, my dear Sam, and you're apologizing to me?" He choked back a sob. "How long— oh, how long have I treated you like this, Sam? What hurtful things have I said? What hurtful acts have I forced on you? I am nothing more than a monster! I don't deserve your friendship!"
"Now, now, Mr. Frodo," Sam murmured, "I love you and I will always be at your side, no matter what. This was the Ring's doin', not yours."
"I don't deserve you," Frodo repeated. "I'm sorry. What I've done— there's no forgiveness."
"Mr. Frodo," Sam muttered.
"How I hate myself, for everything that I've done to you, my dear Sam," Frodo whimpered. "You must hate me— "
"I don't hate you, Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered, kissing into Frodo's curly, brown locks.
Both remained that way, clutching at each other's arms, until the rising sun peaked over the horizon.
To be continued.