A/n: Okay, I promised it wouldn't be long.  Did I do good?  *imploring grin* Things are starting to move along quickly now, so hopefully the chapters'll be psted pretty consistently as well.  Thanks as always for the reviews!  :)

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Hamfast swung the door to the smial open harshly, causing it to slam against the wall with a loud *bang*.  There was a startled gasp from the kitchen, then Bell appeared, clutching a dishtowel and looking alarmed.  "Hamfast!" she cried, seeing her husband's distraught face.  "What is it?"

"Call the lads, Bell!" he ordered.  "Get them in here, quickly!  Mr. Frodo's gone missing, we've got to go and find him."

Bell gaped at her husband.  "In this?" she exclaimed, looking out the window at the darkened sky.  "He's out in *this*?"

"Yes, lass, now don't delay!" he cried, pushing past her.  "HAMSON!  HALFRED!"

"Hamfast!" Bell cried suddenly, "where's Sam?"

He stopped and turned to her, looking bewildered and alarmed.  "He's not here with you?"

"He was," she replied, wringing her hands, "but I sent him to help you in the garden so you'd be finished before the storm hit.  Didn't he show up?"

Hamfast looked panicked.  "Nay, I never saw him…" suddenly his face registered shock.  "He must've heard us talking," he whispered.  "I'll be he's gone off looking for Mr. Frodo…"

Bell cried out in her distress.  The sound seemed to rouse Hamfast from his half-daze.  Turning and taking his wife by the shoulders, he said firmly "Listen, lass.  We'll find them.  Don't worry.  The Shire's seen storms like this before.  Sam's a smart lad, he'll know what to do.  But for now you have to be calm, lest the little'uns panic.  Okay?"

She nodded, her eyes wide with fear, but managed to calm herself a little.

Hamfast kissed her briefly.  "Good lass," he murmured, brushing a hand over her cheek comfortingly.

Hamson and Halfred appeared in the doorway, looking alarmed.  "Da?" Halfred said.  "What is it?"

Hamfast turned from his wife and grabbed two cloaks, tossing them at his startled sons.

"We're leaving," he said.

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Sam pushed his way past a tangle of branches, squinting into the darkness of the forest. 

"Mr. Frodo?" he called, but the only response was the not-so-distant rumble of thunder and the rustle of the wind in the tree leaves.

He gulped, and began moving forward again.  He didn't like the forest at night, especially not during a storm; the shadows seemed to slink and slither about him, as though they would grab him if given the chance.  The very thought nearly made him freeze in fear, but he forced it from his mind.  "Frodo needs me," he reminded himself, and the thought gave him courage.  "He needs me and I won't let him down."

He began walking again, clumsily making his way through the think brambles and undergrowth.

Suddenly, the sky above him flashed brilliantly, illuminating the forest around him, and the crash that followed seemed to shake the very earth.  Sam stumbled, then cried out as a branch whipped in the wind and caught him across the cheek.  He raised his palm and pressed it to the stinging area.  When he pulled it away he winced at the line of blood across his palm.  Wiping it on his breeches, he desperately tried to calm his racing pulse.

A sudden noise from the forest a ways to his left made him start and stiffen.

"Mr. Frodo?" he cried, louder this time.

There was no answer, but he thought he heard the sounds of crying over the growing storm.  He gasped, then cried, "Ham on, Mr. Frodo!  I'm coming!"

With that he dashed off into the undergrowth.

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Frodo woke with a start as a loud crash of thunder sounded over him.  Sitting up quickly, he cried out as he nearly fell from the rock he'd been sleeping on.  Looking around blearily, he wondered aloud, "When did it get so dark?  How long was I asleep?"

He glanced around, his alarm growing.  The glade, which had seemed so peaceful when he'd arrived, was far from it now.  The wind whipped through the trees, making them bend and creak and groan with strain.  Beside him, the once happily-bubbling Brandywine was swirling and dark, menacing.  As he took in his surroundings, they were suddenly lit by a brilliant flash of lightning, and he cried out again as the thuder crashed around him. 

"I've got to get out of here!" he wailed to himself, leaping to his feet and gazing about in blind panic.  "Which way, which way?" he cried, grasping at his curls distraughtly.  He couldn't for the life of him recall how to get back to Bag End.  A sob caught him by surprise; reaching up he realized there were tears streaming down his face.  He shook his head.  No sense in blubbering like a baby, he chided himself mentally.  Best to keep a cool head and—

*CRACK*!

He dropped to his knees and covered his head, crying out as the thunder sounded yet again.  He'd never liked storms, an had always hidden from them when he was little.  They still unnerved him now, even when he was safely inside.  But to be out here…alone…lost…

"Bilbo!" he sobbed.  "BILBO!!"

A sudden crashing in the forest before him made him start and fall back.  He shrank in fear when he saw a figure come staggering out of the woods, but it vanished when he saw who it was.

"S…Sam?" he said in amazement.

"Mr. Frodo!" The lad was before him in an instant, kneeling and checking him over to see if he was hurt.  "Oh, Mr. Frodo, are you okay?  I came as quickly as I could, sir, honest!  You shouldn't've gone a'wandering alone!  Are you okay?"

Frodo shook himself, realizing his mouth was hanging open.  "Yes, I'm…I'm fine, Sam, but…what are you doing here?"

Sam looked up at him, his brow furrowed slightly.  "Why…I came to find you, sir!" he said.  "Why else would I be here?"

Frodo didn't know how to answer that, so he merely continued to gaze at the young hobbit in bewildered wonder.

After a moment Sam stood, extending his hand.  "Come on, sir," he said.  "I've got to get you out of here."

Frodo accepted the lad's hand and staggered to his feet. 

"Sam," he said, "I don't remember how I got here!  I fell asleep, and…"

"It's okay, Frodo," Sam said.  I know the way.  Just follow me—"

*CRACK!*

A great bolt split the night, and with a shower of sparks and the stench of burning, the tree before them crashed to the ground.  They staggered backwards and fell to the ground, then stared at the fallen tree that blocked their path.  It was then the rain began to pour down in thundering torrents, quickly soaking both hobbits.

"Well," Sam said after a moment.  "That was how we were supposed to get back."

Frodo looked to him in alarm.  "Isn't there another way?" he cried urgently.  "Surely…"

"Well, aye, there is," Sam said, having to fairly shout to be heard over the storm.  "We follow the Brandywine until we reach the path.  It's the longer way 'round, but I expect there's nothing else for it."

"Come on, then!" Frodo cried, leaping to his feet and pulling Sam up with him before turning and dashing into the forest. 

"Mr. Frodo, wait!" Sam cried, scrambling after him.  He ran as quickly as his legs would carry him, slipping and sliding over the slick mud of the riverbank.  "Please, Frodo, *wait*!"

Frodo, who was running in blind panic, finally registered Sam's voice behind him.  He stopped, and spun around—

—in time to see the muddy bank below Sam's feet give way as Sam slipped into the swirling Brandywine, vanishing with a little cry.

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a/n:  *smacks herself on the head* Oh, that was low, even for me.  Sorry, sorry!  TBC very soon, I promise!  And hey, I did do a better job of posting quickly, right? :)

BTW, this chapter owes a very obvious debt of gratitude to Mainframe's story "Brandywine" as well as Kora's story "The End of All Things."  If you haven't read  those rush right away and do so immediately!!  And thanks to both authors for the wonderful inspiration!