Rating: PG
Pairing: F/S
Warnings: gratuitous angst, and slash. It's my first fic, so expect less than perfection.
Disclaimer: I do not own these hobbits; I just borrowed them for a while.
Feedback: would be highly appreciated, as this is my first fic and I'm playing this by ear. So, feel free to leave criticisms and suggestions.
Summary: The savior of Middle Earth needs saving himself. Short and (hopefully) sweet.
'Save Me'
The night swept over Mordor swiftly, bringing along with it an even swifter blanket
of black despair, meant to extinguish any faint light of hope that still was
miraculously glittering in that forsaken land.
Frodo could feel that despair wrapping about him, smothering him, choking him.
It was already a torment on his mind during the day (if day even existed there,
where the sun refused to show its face) but at night, when it was so dark that,
beyond the vast nothingness before him, all he could see was a piercing ring of
fire- then, he truly felt that nothing was left on earth except for himself and
that turning, glowing, hissing thing..
"Mr. Frodo." A dry whisper slashed through the darkness. "I've
found a place to rest. Come here-- yes, only a few more steps..."
Eventually, Frodo stumbled and sank onto the ground next to Sam. He laid
himself flat, close to Sam but not touching. No, not touching... not now. Frodo
couldn't bear it if he were to harm his faithful Sam… Ever since Cirith
Ungol... no. He could not, would not let that happen.
"Rest you easy now," Sam murmured. Frodo must've been whimpering, but
he didn't realize it. He did that often now; muttering and moaning in his own
dark world, not realizing that his cries could be heard in reality.
Frodo tried to close his eyes and sleep, but he was suddenly terrified of the
dark pressing around him, and was afraid that the ring's haunting fire would
dance, ensnared, behind his eyelids and set them ablaze…
"Sam," he cried out softly. He could no longer forego the saving
grace of earthly touch, sweetest of distractions from the ring's
seduction. With one hand clutching at
his chest, the other groped in the darkness, seeking a more welcome talisman.
It reached him halfway.
"Right here, Mr. Frodo, I'm right here," came the reply to the
desperate invocation. Sam gripped Frodo's hand tighter, sensing Frodo's
turmoil. "Whatever's hauntin' your dreams, it can't hurt you while I'm
here. I won't let it." Frodo grasped Sam's hand and pulled it to his lips,
bestowing a small kiss. Sam laid his hand along Frodo's cheek, and felt warmth
trickling down.
Sam felt his heart crack in two. "Oh, sir, you're crying! Frodo,
Frodo..." Without hesitation, Sam reached out both arms and pulled Frodo
towards him. Frodo flinched at first, but quickly clung to him harder, almost
painfully.
"It is such a burden, Sam," he said weakly. "Such a burden on my
body and mind...where can I ever find rest?"
"Oh, love," Sam sighed, stroking Frodo's head softly. Ah, I wish I
could take this all away from you and heal you, he thought wistfully. You
were chosen to save the world, but it's you as needs savin'. Sam felt
Frodo's body trembling, quivering with cold and something worse. Against his
neck, Sam could feel Frodo's lips moving, mouthing It burns it burns it
burns over and over again in a silent plea. I know it does! Sam's
mind cried out; he had never felt so helpless before. The only answer he could
think of was to shift and cover Frodo's mouth with his own, swallowing and
taking in those cries, and answering back silently, I know, I know! It burns
me too, every time it causes you pain. I feel it.
Frodo's lips pressed back feverishly, desperately against his own, clearly
begging, Save me, Sam. Save me from this burning, searing pain that never
allows me peace of mind or rest. You are all I have left!
I will! Sam returned just as fervently. As long as I've breath in me,
I will.
Eventually Frodo's mouth stilled and softened as his breaths grew more even,
the burning dispelled for the moment. Sam gently moved his lips a hair's
breadth away and wrapped himself more protectively around Frodo. "Maybe
you can rest for a while now, Frodo love," he whispered softly. You can
rest while your Sam's here. He'll not let It scorch you, not tonight.
He felt Frodo's eyelashes flutter against his face, and just before he himself
fell asleep, Sam felt, rather than heard, Frodo breathe the words, "Thank
you for keeping me safe."
