II

"Are we lost?" asked Pippin, frowning.

"Don't annoy Strider, Pip," Merry pulled him down to sit on a log beside him. Pippin frowned some more but said nothing.

"Not lost, exactly," Aragorn said. "We're all going to rest here a moment. Do what you like, but don't stray far." He turned away to talk quietly to Legolas, and Merry and Pippin couldn't hear what they were talking about.

Frodo looked about him at the others. Gimli had joined Merry and Pippin on the log, and Boromir was pacing up and down restlessly. Only Sam was watching him.

Frodo took a deep breath, and disappeared among the trees, knowing that Sam would follow him. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't cope with being alone any longer, and even if he had to trick Sam into comforting him, then he so be it. He'd done so much wrong already, that this wouldn't make much difference.

He soon stumbled into a small clearing, and stopped. He could hear Sam behind him, and distantly the rest of the Fellowship talking. His eyes filled with tears, and he sat down against a tree, not caring about the damp leaves on the ground.

"Mr Frodo!" Sam said, entering the clearing before he even knew it was there and looking guilty. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a-spying or nothing, it's just that."

Frodo said nothing, and didn't even look up.

"Mr Frodo?" Sam stepped forward cautiously. "I'm sorry, I'll go someplace else if you want me to."

"No, Sam," Frodo looked up, and choked back his tears. "Please don't go. I need you."

"Oh, Mr Frodo," Sam cried, in a mixture of relief and concern. "I won't ever go nowhere if you don't want me to!" He hurried over and dropped to his knees in front of Mr Frodo. "But. please tell me what the matter is, Mr Frodo, I can't bear to see you like this."

"Sam. I." Frodo looked up into Sam's loving eyes, and found himself sobbing and choking into the cold air. He was quickly enveloped in Sam's warm strong arms, as the younger hobbit whispered comforting words.

"There, there, Mr. Frodo, what's the matter? Can't you tell your Sam?" He leaned back and looked Frodo in the eyes. Cold blue empty eyes, void of all emotion, despite the tears flowing freely from them.

"No," Frodo managed, and shook his head. He was starting to regret crying in front of Sam. He couldn't bear to keep secrets from him, and at least before he could pretend there no secrets at all. Now he must acknowledge the fact that he wasn't going to tell anyone, anything. And soon people would start trying to work it out for themselves, and what if they stumbled upon the truth?

Frodo began to sob harder, realising he'd made things worse for himself. He tried to push Sam away. He didn't deserve such comfort.

"Mr. Frodo, please!" Sam, tried to put his arms around Frodo again. But Frodo would have none of it and tried to scramble to his feet. Sam wouldn't let go of his master, and somehow Frodo slipped on the mud and ended up flat on his back on the leafy wet ground. Sam, desperately clutching onto Frodo, somehow landed on top of him.

For a moment, both hobbits lay there, breathless and surprised. Frodo felt as though all the sobs had been shaken out of him, and the startling fall had made him yearn for comfort again. He was grateful to have Sam so close, even though he was dizzy from the fall and nothing was making sense.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo, sir," Sam came to his senses and quickly tried to get up, cursing himself for scaring poor troubled Mr. Frodo.

"No! Sam! Don't." Frodo held tightly onto Sam's cloak and gazed at him pleadingly. "Don't move. please, Sam."

Sam frowned in confusion, but didn't move, hands moving to stroke Frodo's hair comfortingly. He wasn't sure what Mr. Frodo was upset about, but he was sure that whatever it was, he was always going to be there to comfort his master. Frodo was gazing up at him, his previously empty eyes suddenly pleading, aching, only inches from his. Sam felt his own heart ache as he sensed Frodo's pain, and he wished he could make it better some how. His gaze travelled down, as if dragged there by some unseen force, from Frodo's eyes to his lips, slightly parted and damp from tears. Lips trembling and pink.

And then Sam knew that this was the right moment.

Sam had been aware for some time now, that there was an unspoken agreement between them; recognition of each other's developing feelings, of the new growing warmth. Sam knew, and was sure Frodo knew too, that there was no sense in rushing into the new found feelings. All they could do was wait and learn for the feelings to grow until there was nothing left to do except act upon them. Ever since they'd left Moria, and Frodo had started to act so strangely, Sam had been worried that maybe the feelings were slipping away. But now, gazing down at Frodo beneath him Sam was certain that they hadn't gone anywhere at all.

He leaned down slowly, and brought his lips to Frodo's in a warm, reassuring kiss. He felt Frodo catch his breath beneath him, and then open his mouth further to the kiss, hesitantly welcoming it with his tongue. Sam melted into the kiss, the sounds of the birds in the trees and the fellowship in the distance fading away, the dampness of the air and his feet becoming nothing compared to the sensations of the kiss.

Frodo could taste his own tears on Sam's lips, and found himself fully absorbed into the kiss within moments of realising it was happening. His head was still spinning and he tried frantically to make sense of everything, and then suddenly all his guilt came back to him with a jolt, and he cried out into Sam's mouth.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam broke away from the kiss and looked worried. "Is it too soon?"

"No, Sam," Frodo cried, breathlessly, still clinging onto Sam's cloak. "It's not too soon, it's perfect, it's just the right moment, you're perfect. the only thing that isn't perfect is me!"

"But." Sam stared in confusion as the tears flowed down Frodo's face again, and he reached out and brushed them away with his hand. "How could you not be perfect, Mr. Frodo? You're perfect to me."

"You don't understand, Sam," Frodo choked back a sob. He knew he had to tell Sam now; now that they had shared that magical moment. Even though it would ruin everything, Frodo knew he couldn't mislead Sam any longer. "I've done something. terrible."

"What have you done?" Sam asked, confused. "It can't be so very terrible. At least, nothing so terrible to stop me loving you."

"Do you. love me?" Frodo asked, heart aching.

"Of course I do, Mr. Frodo." Sam blushed a little. "Couldn't you tell?" "Yes, I just. I love you too Sam. but you wouldn't love me, if you knew." Frodo dissolved into sobs again, shaking beneath Sam's firm comforting body.

"Mr. Frodo, please tell me what it is," Sam said, desperately. "I know it can't be as bad as you think it is, I don't think you could ever do something truly terrible, you don't have it in you. But if it's bothering you so, then I want to know, so that I can make it better."

"You can't make it better." Frodo shook his head. "You see. I. it's my fault that Gandalf is." His sentence faded into more sobs.

"Oh, Mr. Frodo!" Sam gasped, and Frodo began to tremble further. "You can't think that was your fault!" He wiped the tears from Frodo's cheeks, trying to comfort the crying hobbit.

"It was my idea. to go through Moria," Frodo managed, through sobs. "Think about it and you'll see it's true. You can go now, if you like, I shan't blame you for not loving me anymore." His fingers released Sam's cloak, and he avoided Sam's gaze.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam said, squeezing his master tightly. "You listen to your Sam now. I may not know much about the world and magic and them things, but I know that Gandalf knew what we were letting ourselves in for when we went to Moria and he knew the risks. I think he might even have known what was going to happen before we even encountered that fiery thing. It wasn't your fault, Mr. Frodo, and I love you more than ever."

Frodo looked up at Sam's honest earnest brown eyes, and began to cry further, his hands tightened again on Sam's cloak.

"Don't you believe me?" Sam's heart sunk.

"I do," Frodo managed to nod. "It's just. I'm crying because I'm happy, because I'm so lucky to have you, because. I'm in love." He broke out into a smile, and then found himself laughing. He loved Sam, and that meant he trusted him with all his heart. And if Sam didn't think it was Frodo's fault, then Sam must be right.

Sam grinned too, and kissed Frodo lovingly on the lips. "I'm glad you're back to my Mr. Frodo."

"I'm always your Mr. Frodo, Sam," Frodo smiled. "Except you don't really need to call me Mr. Frodo anymore."

"Maybe." Sam leaned up a little, and looked down at Frodo. "I reckon I should stop lying on you. Frodo. You're getting all muddy."

"I hadn't noticed," Frodo admitted, but looking down realised that Sam was right.

"Let's go somewhere to get you all cleaned up." Sam stood up, and held out his hand to help his master up. Frodo took his hand gratefully and didn't let it go even when they were standing.

Sam turned to explore the forest for the stream he was sure he could hear nearby, but then Frodo tugged at his hand, and he turned back. "What is it, Mr. Frodo?"

"Thank you, Sam," Frodo said, simply.

"Anything for my Frodo," Sam smiled.