A/N: Hi! Thanks to the people who reviewed my first chapter. Your reviews made me want to continue with this story. So PLEASE keep reviewing my story- each time I get a new one it makes me want to write more. So the more reviews, the faster this story will be updated. :)



Chapter 2

Frodo lay for a long while as he found himself--naked, face down on the cold stone floor, too terrified to move. His ears strained for any sounds but there were none after the orcs had retreated. All he could hear was the loud pounding of his own heart.

Slowly he propped himself up onto his elbows and looked with weary eyes around his prison. He was in a large, circular room, probably at the top of a tower. It was all made of gray stone and was completely empty except for a small bundle in a corner and a tiny, high set window, through which no dim light of day shone. In the middle of the floor there was a trap door, hardly visible because it blended so well into the gray stone floor. It was the only way out.

Frodo shivered uncontrollably. There was a dull, throbbing pain throughout his entire body, and his head continued to pound. He still could not sort things out in his mind. How did I get here? What happened? But he had no answers.

He slowly crawled over to the bundle in the corner and wrapped the thin rag about himself, curling into a little ball and hugging his knees to his chest. But The thin dirty rag did almost nothing to ease the cold in his bones.

Frodo closed his eyes tightly to block out the horrible gray world all about him and tried, once again, to concentrate on his very confused thoughts.

His mind seemed fogged, but slowly things began to come back to him. And all of a sudden- he remembered. He could remember everything clearly now. The ring, the quest, the terrifying Black Riders.the ring!

They have it! Frodo thought wildly to himself. He felt strange without the constant presence of the ring about his neck and had a strong desire to have it back.

All at once, Frodo remembered the terrible visions he had seen in Galadriel's mirror in far-away Lothlorien. How long ago it all seemed, almost like it was only a dream. But no, he could remember it all clearly.

The Shire, his home, destroyed. infested by orcs. Burning.everything was burning. Everything was gone. All he ever knew and loved, lost forever.

"It is what will come to pass if you should fail." That is what she had said.

"No, no!" Frodo's eyes snapped open, but he was not seeing his surroundings. He saw instead the faces of the other members of the fellowship. They risked their lives to help me and I have failed them all he thought despairingly. He saw the faces of his hobbit friends, his dear Bilbo, his home.

All will be lost. Everything will be destroyed. All will come to darkness and I will be the cause of it. I am to blame for the destruction of all Middle Earth. He shut his eyes again and despite all he tried, the tears began to trickle down his face. Gandalf, you chose poorly. The Council should never have trusted this task to me Frodo thought bitterly.

But how had it all happened? How had he come to be here?

Frodo struggled to remember further. He could remember leaving the Fellowship, he and Sam. And then.

Suddenly it all rushed back to him. The long march through the Emyn Muil. Gollum. the Dead Marshes and the long blackness of Mordor.even Faramir and his men, all the kindness they had showed them.

Then he remembered Gollum, Gollum's promise to show them a way into Mordor. And the long, black tunnel he had led them through. And the endless darkness.

And the eyes. The many, hideous, glowing eyes that had chased them through the darkness. And the smell. The terrible smell of some huge, terrifying creature that loomed through the impenetrably stifling darkness of the tunnels. Following, always following.

And then Frodo remembered seeing light. At last, an end to the darkness! He remembered rushing toward it, calling to Sam who was behind him. Then a terrible stinging pain in the back of his neck.then blackness.

Frodo reached up to his neck- yes, it was still sore. But what had happened? Had that horrible creature followed them out? But then.Sam!

Frodo's eyes snapped open once again, this time widening in terror. What has become of Sam if I am here, in this tower full of orcs? And how did the orcs find me in the first place?

Maybe that monster or whatever it was, had been distracted by Sam and followed him instead. Frodo thought to himself. And then the orcs found me. He buried his face in his hands. So what has become of Sam?

He pictured Sam lying dead, pale and lifeless. No glittering eyes or cheerful, reassuring smile on his face. Total emptiness. And then a menacing creature leaning over him, preparing to devour its prey.

Oh, Sam! How could this happen?

He should never have come with me. Frodo thought. This was my doom, not his and I should never have let him come. And now.now. Hot tears welled in Frodo's eyes again.

What have I done?

But what if Sam was still alive? What if, by some miracle, he had escaped?

He would come looking for me. Frodo thought miserably. And he musn't do that. If he's alive, coming here would only put him in greater danger.

Sam, dear, if you're still out there. Frodo pleaded with him silently, Please, please stay away from this place. Whatever you do, don't come looking for me, please. You do not deserve to die. Just take care of yourself as best you can. I couldn't bear it if you lost your life trying to help me. I am beyond help now, dear Sam.

But then the gentle, loving face of Sam appeared in Frodo's mind, smiling warmly down at him.

Frodo thought back to sunny mornings at Bag End when Sam would come in cheerfully each day and bid him good morning. How he would sing or whistle a tune as he went about his work in the garden.

These once familiar and comforting thoughts became painful memories to Frodo as Sam's smiling face swam before his mind's eye. The tears streamed silently down Frodo's face as he sat in the corner of the dark room at the top of the tower, utterly alone.

Just then hoarse, angry shouts and loud clashes of metal upon metal floated up from below. It sounded as if an argument might be starting. But Frodo kept his eyes tightly closed, clinging to the image of Sam's face, as it was his only comfort, trying desperately to block out the sounds from below.

And he knew that if Sam was out there he could never just forget, would never leave him. And uncontrollable despair welled in Frodo's heart as, despite all he tried, he could not stop the terrible longing he had for that face, that smile, for Sam's arms to wrap around him. And he knew it was impossible.

Loud clunking footsteps approached. The orcs were returning. Frodo curled into a tighter ball, wrapping the rag tightly about himself and burying his face in the rough fabric, dampening it with his fresh tears; all the while not letting go of the vision of Sam. It was so clear, as if he were standing right in front of him.

I will never see that face again. Frodo thought despairingly, letting go of any hope he might have had left as the footsteps continued, now so close, and the trap door swung open with a bang.

~AC~