Title: Nice Hobbit
Author: Anemone Frost
Email: Weepingwillow987@aol.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A sudden turn of events.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Warnings: Nothing for this chapter.
A/N: Since so many are asking for it, I've decided to continue. Hope that makes some of you happy. :) Again, I should point out that this fic is an AU or Alternate Universe. I assumed that most people knew what that meant, but it's come to my attention that some don't. *Goth Smeagol of Doom* Where did I ever say that this fic was going to follow Tolkien's work accurately? I only wrote that it followed a small portion of the movie. The fact that Sam was able to resist the Ring in Tolkien's story is irrelevant. Again, I point out, this is an AU fic. If you don't like the idea of this story, then don't read it!
"I hate this place," Sam groaned in disgust. "Whatever it is."
Before him stood a vast marshland. It stretched for miles, and the horizon was red from Mount Orodruin spitting fire. The plant life was withered, turned an ugly shade of brown. The water was murky, and tiny bubbles rose to the surface, making a soft popping sound as they burst. Sam couldn't help but wonder how deep the bogs ran and what type of traps were lying in wait to snare them. All that water. Fear crept over his mind, and heat flushed around his cheeks, causing him to sweat. What if he fell in? Would Frodo be able to pull him out? Gollum wouldn't help him; he'd just sit by and laugh to himself that the nasty, fat hobbit was drowning. And would he be able to pull Frodo out if he fell in?
"Sam?" came Frodo's voice.
The hobbit's chest ached at the thought of cold water spilling into his lungs.
"Sam?" there was more urgency in the voice.
Gasping desperately for air, only to receive another mouthful of the bitter water.
"Sam!"
The hobbit blinked, and gazed at his master with wide eyes. "I'm sorry Mr. Frodo. My mind just— blanked out for a bit, I suppose."
"It's alright, Sam," Frodo replied, smiling. "We're heading in."
"I don't like it much, Mr. Frodo," Sam grumbled, glaring down at Gollum. "The water could be deep and I— "
"Don't worry, Sam, we'll stay as far as we can from it," Frodo answered. "Besides, we don't have much of a choice. It's one of the safest routes we can take to Mordor."
"It seems hard to stay away from the water when it's everywhere you step," Sam muttered.
"Hurry hobbits!" Gollum yelled, dashing to Frodo's side, tugging at his cloak. "We must make haste!"
Sam growled at the creature, enticing a fearful whimper as he released the hobbit's cloak, and bolted a few paces ahead, darting around the sinkholes. Three days had passed since the fight, and Gollum had been extremely timid around Sam, much to the hobbit's delight. He hoped he terrified the creature to the point where he would not make another attempt for the Ring, but a part of Sam knew that was impossible. Gollum would always want the Ring, and he would concoct a new plan in stealing it.
The journey through was hard and slow, and seemingly endless. The ground below was soft and slippery with muck, making the walk hazardous. One wrong slip, and they would end up in a murky tomb. Gnats were buzzing over their heads, and the Elven cloaks could do little to protect them from the stinging bites. The air was hot, stinking of sulfur and soot from the distant volcano. Each step was a struggle that drained their strength. Sam had felt rested when he began, but now it was midday, and he was exhausted, on the verge of passing out with dizziness. Sam was more fearful of his master's condition. Frodo was already suffering from lack of rest when the trip through the marshes began, and now what little strength remained in him had depleted. He was wobbling, almost collapsing on several occasions. Sweat was streaming down his brow, and the front of his shirt was drenched. Sam was by his side quickly, doing what he could to aid his tired master.
Gollum had no such problem. He was accustomed to the surroundings, having gone through it once before. He seemed tireless, walking at a slow steady pace so the hobbits could keep up. The gnats didn't affect Gollum; if the insects got close enough, he snapped his jaw, devouring them instantly.
It disgusted Sam that such a creature had that lasting stamina while his dear master was gradually deteriorating. His attention averted to the water, and he gasped in revolution at what he saw. There were bodies in the water. Pallid faces of men, elves, and orcs stared back up at him. Frodo had noticed also, and he seemed to be in a trance, staring at the faces with no emotion on his face.
"Who are they?" Sam whispered.
"Long ago, a great battle was fought here," Gollum answered. "Many men, orcs, and elves died." He shuddered. "Stay away from the lights. Stay away, or hobbits could end up the same way."
Sam frowned at the strange tint that flashed in Gollum's eyes. The creature was up to something; he could tell.
"Come, Mr. Frodo," Sam muttered. "We best be moving along." He tugged at the hobbit's shoulders, but Frodo wouldn't budge from the spot. "Mr. Frodo?"
Sam gazed into Frodo's eyes, becoming alarmed when he noted that they had turned icy and glazed over. He was still staring at the faces when his feet moved toward the water. A grunt came from Sam as he tightly wrapped his arms around Frodo's waist, attempting to keep him from moving. Frodo was unbelievably strong, and Sam found himself being dragged along.
"Hey! Stinker! Help us!" Sam yelled.
Gollum turned, staring calmly at the hobbit struggling violently to keep his master from entering the water. He sat for a moment, obviously contemplating the situation. Sam snarled, and spat curses and threats at the creature. His feet were submerged in the frigid water, and Frodo was inching deeper and deeper. Gollum suddenly sprang forward grappled Frodo away from the water. However, in the violent tussle, Sam was knocked sideways, sending him roughly spiraling into the marsh. Cold water splashed all around him, and panic surged into his mind when he realized that his feet couldn't touch the bottom. He whipped his head around, attempting to catch sight of his master or anything that could pull him out. Frodo was on the land, unconscious, with Gollum close by.
"Help!" Sam screamed, briefly slipping underneath the surface. He came back up spitting out water. "Help me!"
A wide, sadistic grin grew on Gollum. "Goodbye, fat hobbit. Don't worry; we takes care of master."
Sam's yell was muffled as he slipped back under. Something had grabbed hold of his ankle, and he was being dragged down in the murky depths. He fought ferociously to break free. He could not leave his master alone with that creature. The more he struggled, the more fatigued he became. There was no air to fill his burning lungs, only water and muck. Everything was starting to turn black, and his body started to feel light. He had failed Frodo.
More to follow. (Remember, it's not over. Wink. Wink.)