Chapter 5
"I think the bleeding has stopped," breathed Aragon with much relief.. The Ranger had been tending the injured hobbit for several hours and was beginning to feel more and more anxious about the long delay. It would be dark before long and the orcs would come with it. Sam had continued to lose blood and his fever raged on as his small body fought the destructive powers of the orc poison. Frodo sat by Sam's side. He had not moved since they had carried Sam's inert form to the fireside. He held Sam's hand and had repeatedly urged to him to hold on, to fight the poison and not give up. Frodo now looked up at Aragorn's weary face.
"Will he be alright?" he asked worriedly. The bleeding may have stopped, but Sam seemed to struggle for every breath and the fever continued unabated.
Aragorn sighed, looking down at Sam's pale face. "I do not know, Frodo," he replied quietly. "Sam is made of much tougher stuff than I would have supposed. You hobbits are a constant surprise to me!" He smiled softly, "I have seen lesser wounds fell a full grown man in his prime, yet Master Gamgee continues to fight on. We should reach the forests of Lothlorien by nightfall. Hopefully there, we will find the help we need to heal Sam." He looked over at Frodo. "Unfortunately, we have not the time to tarry here any longer. We are still too near the enemy. The sooner we get to Lothlorien, the better for all of us, including Sam."
Frodo looked around and saw that the others were starting to pack up camp. Boromir walked over and knelt by Sam's side, gazing sadly at the young hobbit's tormented face. "I would be honored to carry Sam on our journey," he said, glancing over at Frodo. "He has proven himself to be a brave and worthy companion. Braver than many a hardened soldier I have known."
Frodo laughed softly. "Sam would be most amused by you calling him brave!" he said to the tall Man kneeling beside him. "Sam is the most humble hobbit you could ever meet! But you are right. He is very brave, whether he would agree with you or not! Thank you, Boromir, for your kind offer."
Pippin and Merry appeared by Boromir's side. "How is he doing?" asked Merry, "Is he any better?"
Frodo shook his head. "The bleeding seems to have stopped, but the fever is still very high and his breathing is labored. I fear the poison will take him before the Elves can help." Pippin bit his lip as he looked at his cousin's sorrowful face. He knew Frodo was very close to Sam and if Sam died, Frodo would take it exceptionally hard. He had already been badly shocked by the loss of Gandalf. Losing Sam might make Frodo lose heart altogether.
"He'll be alright, Frodo!" Pippin tried to assure him. "Those Gamgees are not easily brought down! Remember when Sam's brother, Hamsted, fell out of the Party Tree? Everyone thought he was killed, but two days later, he was back stealing apples! Sam won't let a mere orc arrow stop him!"
The others had finished packing up the gear and it was time to continue their journey. Boromir knelt down and gently lifted Sam's lifeless body into his arms. He looked down at Sam's ashen face, a sheen of sweat had formed and his lips were cracked and dry. He seemed to struggle for every breath he took. Boromir didn't know much about these hobbits, but he was finding himself more and more impressed by their bravery and fortitude. Sam was essentially a mystery to him. The shy hobbit tended to stay in Frodo's shadow much of the time, although he had shown himself to be quite fierce if he felt Frodo was being threatened. Boromir couldn't recall ever having an actual conversation with Sam. The other hobbits were much more outgoing, even the beleaguered Ring Bearer. Sighing, he adjusted the injured hobbit in his arms and began to follow the others down the path towards Lothlorien.
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Sam could hear singing. "Like the voices of angels." He thought to himself. He felt very warm and comfortable. He sighed and snuggled further into the soft blankets covering him. "It must have all been a dream," he said softly. A gentle laugh, like the song of a dove brought Sam to full wakefulness. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up into what appeared to be a silver and gold branches of an enormous tree. He frowned in confusion and tried to sit up. Gentle hands firmly pushed him back onto the pillows. Sam turned and found himself staring into the deep blue eyes of a tall Elf woman. She smiled at the confused Hobbit as she tenderly wiped his brow.
"Do not stir yourself, Master Gamgee," she said quietly, "You are safe in the lands of the Lady of the Wood. Your companions brought you to us gravely injured. We have tended your hurts for many days, but we are pleased to see that you are recovering nicely."
Sam relaxed into the cushions. He must be in Lothlorien! He had heard about this wondrous place from Legolas during the many long days spent in the dark mines of Moria. It had sounded glorious and Sam had eagerly looked forward to coming. He looked back at the Elf, a worried expression forming on his haggard features. Again he tried to sit up. "Mr. Frodo!" he cried urgently, "Is Mr. Frodo alright!?"
"Yes! Yes, he is fine!" she soothed him. "He has spent most of his time here, beside you. He has been most fearful for your recovery!" She smiled again, remembering the devotion the Ring Bearer had shown towards his injured friend. The healers had finally sent him away this morning for rest and nourishment, when it became apparent that Sam would recover. The Elf called behind her to another elf nearby. Soon, a nourishing broth was delivered and the Elf helped Sam eat. He blushed as she offered him his first spoonful.
"You shouldn't be feeding me, my Lady," he mumbled in embarrassment. "It ain't proper!"
She laughed again. Sam ducked his head. "Master Gamgee," chided the Elf gently, "You are an honored guest of the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. As such, it is more than "proper" for you to be cared for by the healers of Caras Galadon. It is also very clear, that you are in no condition to care for yourself at present. If you do not allow me to assist you, you will not get stronger and then will be forced to suffer my ministrations for some time to come!" Sam lifted his head, his eyes troubled, his face red. It just didn't feel right to him that others should care for him in this way. He was so used to tending to the needs of others that he often neglected his own. However, he saw the wisdom in the Healer's words and grudging allowed her to feed him as she would a baby. It didn't take long before he felt full and quickly drifted back to sleep.
Sam recovered quickly in the golden land of Lothlorien. Frodo visited him frequently, much relieved at his faithful servant's improving health. "Next time you are injured, Samwise Gamgee," said Frodo in exasperation, "Do not keep go keeping it hidden, hoping it will just go away! I almost lost you, Sam, and I cannot bear even the mere thought of that! What would the Gaffer say if I let something happen to you!?"
Sam was acutely discomfited by Frodo's wrath. He certainly hadn't meant to be such a bother. It seemed like there were much more important things going on at the time. Sam hung his head, guilt rising up within him. "I…I am sorry Mister Frodo," he mumbled, "I didn't mean to upset you. I'll be more careful."
Frodo paused, smiling fondly at his dear friend. "Sam," he said gently, "Don't you know you mean the world to me? You are my anchor. I would be lost if anything happened to you." He put a hand on Sam's shoulder and with another smile, went out to join the others.
"I think the bleeding has stopped," breathed Aragon with much relief.. The Ranger had been tending the injured hobbit for several hours and was beginning to feel more and more anxious about the long delay. It would be dark before long and the orcs would come with it. Sam had continued to lose blood and his fever raged on as his small body fought the destructive powers of the orc poison. Frodo sat by Sam's side. He had not moved since they had carried Sam's inert form to the fireside. He held Sam's hand and had repeatedly urged to him to hold on, to fight the poison and not give up. Frodo now looked up at Aragorn's weary face.
"Will he be alright?" he asked worriedly. The bleeding may have stopped, but Sam seemed to struggle for every breath and the fever continued unabated.
Aragorn sighed, looking down at Sam's pale face. "I do not know, Frodo," he replied quietly. "Sam is made of much tougher stuff than I would have supposed. You hobbits are a constant surprise to me!" He smiled softly, "I have seen lesser wounds fell a full grown man in his prime, yet Master Gamgee continues to fight on. We should reach the forests of Lothlorien by nightfall. Hopefully there, we will find the help we need to heal Sam." He looked over at Frodo. "Unfortunately, we have not the time to tarry here any longer. We are still too near the enemy. The sooner we get to Lothlorien, the better for all of us, including Sam."
Frodo looked around and saw that the others were starting to pack up camp. Boromir walked over and knelt by Sam's side, gazing sadly at the young hobbit's tormented face. "I would be honored to carry Sam on our journey," he said, glancing over at Frodo. "He has proven himself to be a brave and worthy companion. Braver than many a hardened soldier I have known."
Frodo laughed softly. "Sam would be most amused by you calling him brave!" he said to the tall Man kneeling beside him. "Sam is the most humble hobbit you could ever meet! But you are right. He is very brave, whether he would agree with you or not! Thank you, Boromir, for your kind offer."
Pippin and Merry appeared by Boromir's side. "How is he doing?" asked Merry, "Is he any better?"
Frodo shook his head. "The bleeding seems to have stopped, but the fever is still very high and his breathing is labored. I fear the poison will take him before the Elves can help." Pippin bit his lip as he looked at his cousin's sorrowful face. He knew Frodo was very close to Sam and if Sam died, Frodo would take it exceptionally hard. He had already been badly shocked by the loss of Gandalf. Losing Sam might make Frodo lose heart altogether.
"He'll be alright, Frodo!" Pippin tried to assure him. "Those Gamgees are not easily brought down! Remember when Sam's brother, Hamsted, fell out of the Party Tree? Everyone thought he was killed, but two days later, he was back stealing apples! Sam won't let a mere orc arrow stop him!"
The others had finished packing up the gear and it was time to continue their journey. Boromir knelt down and gently lifted Sam's lifeless body into his arms. He looked down at Sam's ashen face, a sheen of sweat had formed and his lips were cracked and dry. He seemed to struggle for every breath he took. Boromir didn't know much about these hobbits, but he was finding himself more and more impressed by their bravery and fortitude. Sam was essentially a mystery to him. The shy hobbit tended to stay in Frodo's shadow much of the time, although he had shown himself to be quite fierce if he felt Frodo was being threatened. Boromir couldn't recall ever having an actual conversation with Sam. The other hobbits were much more outgoing, even the beleaguered Ring Bearer. Sighing, he adjusted the injured hobbit in his arms and began to follow the others down the path towards Lothlorien.
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Sam could hear singing. "Like the voices of angels." He thought to himself. He felt very warm and comfortable. He sighed and snuggled further into the soft blankets covering him. "It must have all been a dream," he said softly. A gentle laugh, like the song of a dove brought Sam to full wakefulness. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up into what appeared to be a silver and gold branches of an enormous tree. He frowned in confusion and tried to sit up. Gentle hands firmly pushed him back onto the pillows. Sam turned and found himself staring into the deep blue eyes of a tall Elf woman. She smiled at the confused Hobbit as she tenderly wiped his brow.
"Do not stir yourself, Master Gamgee," she said quietly, "You are safe in the lands of the Lady of the Wood. Your companions brought you to us gravely injured. We have tended your hurts for many days, but we are pleased to see that you are recovering nicely."
Sam relaxed into the cushions. He must be in Lothlorien! He had heard about this wondrous place from Legolas during the many long days spent in the dark mines of Moria. It had sounded glorious and Sam had eagerly looked forward to coming. He looked back at the Elf, a worried expression forming on his haggard features. Again he tried to sit up. "Mr. Frodo!" he cried urgently, "Is Mr. Frodo alright!?"
"Yes! Yes, he is fine!" she soothed him. "He has spent most of his time here, beside you. He has been most fearful for your recovery!" She smiled again, remembering the devotion the Ring Bearer had shown towards his injured friend. The healers had finally sent him away this morning for rest and nourishment, when it became apparent that Sam would recover. The Elf called behind her to another elf nearby. Soon, a nourishing broth was delivered and the Elf helped Sam eat. He blushed as she offered him his first spoonful.
"You shouldn't be feeding me, my Lady," he mumbled in embarrassment. "It ain't proper!"
She laughed again. Sam ducked his head. "Master Gamgee," chided the Elf gently, "You are an honored guest of the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. As such, it is more than "proper" for you to be cared for by the healers of Caras Galadon. It is also very clear, that you are in no condition to care for yourself at present. If you do not allow me to assist you, you will not get stronger and then will be forced to suffer my ministrations for some time to come!" Sam lifted his head, his eyes troubled, his face red. It just didn't feel right to him that others should care for him in this way. He was so used to tending to the needs of others that he often neglected his own. However, he saw the wisdom in the Healer's words and grudging allowed her to feed him as she would a baby. It didn't take long before he felt full and quickly drifted back to sleep.
Sam recovered quickly in the golden land of Lothlorien. Frodo visited him frequently, much relieved at his faithful servant's improving health. "Next time you are injured, Samwise Gamgee," said Frodo in exasperation, "Do not keep go keeping it hidden, hoping it will just go away! I almost lost you, Sam, and I cannot bear even the mere thought of that! What would the Gaffer say if I let something happen to you!?"
Sam was acutely discomfited by Frodo's wrath. He certainly hadn't meant to be such a bother. It seemed like there were much more important things going on at the time. Sam hung his head, guilt rising up within him. "I…I am sorry Mister Frodo," he mumbled, "I didn't mean to upset you. I'll be more careful."
Frodo paused, smiling fondly at his dear friend. "Sam," he said gently, "Don't you know you mean the world to me? You are my anchor. I would be lost if anything happened to you." He put a hand on Sam's shoulder and with another smile, went out to join the others.