Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within.

Author's Notes: Yes, I've been so terrible making you all wait SO long! I've been so busy lately! I had to go to a boring Christmas party, and then we went out of town, which was really fun, but anyway!

Manda – Huzzah, I've dragged you into the circle of my writing. Thanks so much for investigating my work!

EvilStorm, tigerlily, and Amarth – I'd forward all of your hugs to Gollum wolf, but I think he'd bite me. He appreciates the concern, though. :D

TK – Reviews can never be too long. All of you, take notes. A review can never be too long. I enjoyed reading every word of that, and thank you for all of the compliments.

 If you think Gollum is acting a bit out of character in this chapter, wait till you get to the end of this installment… the whole story is about to be turned upside-down!

Chapter Nineteen

~

            Weary and hope fading, Sam poked his head against what seemed to be the thousandth door, inhaling deeply in the feeble thought that he might smell Frodo concealed within. And for the thousandth time, he smelled nothing but guns and metal and steel. No living animals, not in these catacombs.

            He longed to see the sweet light of day again, to feel the gentle caress of a spring breeze tickling his ears. He thought of the Shire… of those endless green hills, rolling and stretching into an infinity of paradise. He watched his homeland unfold before him, settling over the vision of horror he was in and replacing it with emerald purity.

            Merry and Pippin romped up and down the hills, tussling and barking and having a wonderful time. In a particularly sunny patch of flowers, Bilbo and Gaffer sat, absorbing the warmth and watching the pups.

            And then, Rosie walked towards him from this vision of happiness. He could see her before him, as clearly as if she actually stood with him in the corridor, her pretty brown eyes smiling at him silently. He stepped towards her, and she bounded away. Encouraged, he sprang after, cavorting in the beauty of springtime, Rosie taunting him with coquettish wags of her tail.

            Suddenly, Merry went stiff as though he heard something. Almost as soon as he barked the alarm, a snowmobile came shooting over the hill and collided with him, vaporizing his body like the vision he was. It hit Pippin, and he vanished. Bilbo and Gaffer… and then Rosie. All that remained was a snowmobile ripping through the Shire, tearing up the landscape and replacing it with grey and craggy despair.

            As the snowmobile whipped past him, he could hear Frodo yelping… crying… He wanted to chase after the monster and rescue the alpha pup, but his legs felt like stone. He jarred them into action, charging at a leaden pace after the hunter and his prey…

            Onward, running, the scenery flying by… And then Gollum was running at his side, nipping at his heels trying to stop him… Sam tried to bite at the intruder, but as his teeth snapped around what should have been Gollum's neck…

            It all vanished.

            Skidding to a halt, Sam found himself in a bright and inhabited hallway, his mirage fading instantly and laying bare his imminent doom. Instinct and terror drove him under a low shelf, and he crouched hidden as a hunter swept past.

            This place was full of the enemy! Hunters were everywhere, pacing, checking their guns, and doing everything horrible that he had imagined they would. There were still doors, but these were different, with glass panels taking up the whole top half that any passerby might look in.

              An exhausted but still living thrill of hope fluttered in his heart, and he desired nothing more than to run out in the hallway and start looking for Frodo. But the busy presence of the enemy kept at bay, and he crouched impatiently in his hiding place.

            ~

            It wasn't until many hours later that night fell. Sam did not know this, of course, but he could see that the halls were at last deserted. At last.

            Springing into the open, he eagerly sniffed under the first door. Nothing. Second door. Nothing. Still bursting with faith that Frodo would be revealed; he scurried down the corridor with his tail wagging.

            An hour later, his tail was still wagging. For some inexplicable reason, he didn't care how long it took anymore. He didn't care if it took an eternity to find Frodo. He was on the right track, oh, he knew it, he felt it… as long as he found him. It didn't matter when. It didn't matter how.

            In this drunken euphoria of hope and hunger-induced lightheadedness, he sniffed under a door and smelled a Hobbit wolf!

            The giddiness shattered away as though it had been dashed with ice cold water. Inhaling the scent again, he trembled from head to tail and confirmed it.

            Frodo!

            Filled with joy, he pawed at the door. He would bark, naturally, but that would bring trouble. So instead he whined excitedly, hardly able to contain the happiness bubbling inside of him. Laughing in the way of the wolves, he continued shoving the door.

            Nothing.

            The smile faded away and his eyes became serious again. Something was wrong. Why wasn't it opening? Was something… stuck? What could he do? Eyes scanning the door rapidly, he saw a metal panel on the bottom, a glass panel on top… a handle…

            Sam sat back on his haunches, distraught. Now what? He studied the door more carefully, in hopes of discovering some secret entrance… nothing. And still the scent of his beloved alpha pup tickled his nose, tempting him and beckoning him… again, he thumped his head against the steel panel.

            A snore interrupted his thoughts.

            Springing in the air and skittering away, he paused when he heard that no one was chasing him. Turning his head around slowly, nostrils quivering, he looked back. There was a guard! Slumped over in a chair and sleeping soundly, but nonetheless a guard with a gun and no doubt the power to alert the whole corridor if something was discovered amiss. Sam had been trotting around right under the nose of doom, and he had been utterly blind to it.

            So, there was a guard. Must be quiet. Cautiously edging back towards the precious door, he again sniffed at the base of it. Frodo was in there, all right… a panicked whine escaped him, and the guard rumbled quietly in his dreams.

            And then Gollum appeared.

            Trudging around a corner some thirty feet down the corridor, he looked broken and weary, his paws dragging on the floor with every step and tail hanging low behind him. His eyes were glassy, and his posture spoke of sorrow and heartbreak.

            Sam froze. The wretch could mean the end of everything… he could wake the guard easily, send the whole place in an uproar… Trembling, Sam wished that Gandalf were with him.

            Gollum's ears perked up and he stopped walking, his nose twitching as he, too, detected the smell of master. Instantly, his tail curved up over his back, wagging, as he raised brightening eyes to stare at Sam hopefully. Sam glared back in mute silence, and the thin grey tail gradually dropped back to the floor.

            Ears still lifted, Gollum surveyed the situation. Guard. Closed door. Master behind closed door. Must open door. Certainly. Easy. Gollum himself knew perfectly well how to open a door; he'd done it himself once or twice, when some desperate cry for escape sent him spiraling down these bleak halls.

            But Sam did not.

            Panting, the scrawny wolf glanced around, his bloodshot eyes finally settling on a blank door that could only be a closet. Gliding quietly over to it, he smoothly jumped up at the paneling and grabbed the door handle with his teeth, his force pulling it down and pushing the door open. Landing back on the floor, he spun about to see if Sam understood.

            Blinking, the Hobbit wolf could only stare. Was Gollum… helping him…? Apparently so, as an urgent whimper was sent across the hall. Sam nodded his head uncertainly, making the grey wolf bounce enthusiastically. Then, Gollum pranced out into the middle of the hall and crouched, taking deep breaths and readying himself for something.

            He was going to bark!

            Sam tensed, his calm nodding turning into a rapid shaking of his head as he frantically tried to stop him. The guard would surely wake! Was he insane? Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam tried to make himself a smaller target…

            As Gollum leapt into the air and started barking his brains out.

            At once, the guard was awake, his whole massive body jolting with the force of his return to consciousness. Eyes still hazy with sleep, he nonetheless spotted a little grey blur bouncing up and down the hall, barking and yapping like a mad thing. Grabbing his gun, the guard lurched into motion.

            That's exactly what had been expected. Spinning on his heels, Gollum raced into the darkness, his noise echoing back at the guard and spurring him off in pursuit.

            Not wasting a moment, Sam turned and launched himself at the door, teeth snapping wildly on the air until they grasped the handle, which gave under his pressure. The door flew open and he tumbled inside in a flurry of legs and paws.

            Eyes darting around the room, he didn't even have to look twice as his heart drove him in the direction of the steel operating table. A crate next to it provided a step, and he went from that to the stainless surface.

            Frodo.

            Throwing himself down next to the limp black form, Sam released all his tension and fear in one wolf sob, muffled as he buried his face in the sweet, soft fur. Inhaling deeply, he just smelled him, relishing in the innocent puppy scent that he had feared lost forever. Then he paused. Frodo wasn't reacting, wasn't moving at all.

            Panic swept Sam's mind, and he pressed his head against the little chest in desperate hopes of finding a sign of life. He listened, straining his ears, until a faint heartbeat rewarded him. Simultaneously, a shaky breath expanded the ribcage, pressing up against Sam's face with relieving breath.

            And then those large blue eyes opened.

            As dazzling as ever in their brilliant sapphire color, they flitted in confusion around the room, a reedy whine accompanying the bewilderment. Suddenly, the gaze settled on Sam. With a sigh, Frodo snuggled his body up against his companion, eyes drooping shut.

            But now was no time for a cozy reunion. Outside, Sam could hear that Gollum's diversion was causing a commotion. Feet pounded by the doorway, and an alarm was going off somewhere. Time to get out.

            Seizing Frodo by the scruff and hardly noticing the weight, Sam leapt directly to the floor and exploded out the doorway, making a blind run for a shelf across the way. Skidding under the lowest level, he paused there, panting, until a squadron raced past.

            A series of such movements followed. Diving from cover to cover, barely aware of the burden that dragged him down, he carefully followed the squadrons along. They were going to lead him to an exit; he could sense it.

            Exactly.

            A yawning cavern of light and a gust of fresh air – fresh air – blasted him in the face as he came around the corner. There was the exit. Now was the time to act. Not even looking to see if a squadron was coming, he pitched himself out in the open, hurtling through the gate and passing onwards, plowing through the snow, heedless of its' depth since the blizzard.

            Onward! Onward! Plunging through the drifts, legs working like pistons, Sam sped as far away from Mordor, it's gate, and all such wretched things, fast as he could, neck craned up so that Frodo didn't drag. Faster and faster they went, at a pace reminiscent of their first run from the Orcs so long ago.

            ~

            At last, at long last they stopped, and Sam nestled his beloved burden into the snow and looked around.

            His heart stopped.

            He had run them into Mordor!

            Disoriented in the endless tunnels, Sam had lost his sense of direction entirely. What he had thought would carry them back to safety, back to the Shire, had only succeeded in dumping them right in the middle of evil.

            Were they doomed to a horrible fate after all?

            The sedatives that had been in Frodo's system were wearing off, and he got shakily to his feet and staggered around for a bit. Sam trotted over and inspected him for injuries of any kind, snuffling through the thick fur for any scars or wounds. Nothing that he could see…

            His search ended abruptly at the neck. There was something there… even as he sniffed at it, Frodo crumpled into a little heap of exhaustion and slept, content knowing that Sam was there. His little head bowed forward, revealing the back of his neck plainly. Sam sniffed at it suspiciously.

            It appeared to be a collar of some sort, covered in a fine gold-like sheen of metal, a little yellow light blinking contentedly in the midst of it all. The band itself seemed to be covered with fiery writing, the text a blazing red and reading something in a language that meant nothing to Sam.

            Sam saw only one thing there around his master's neck.

            A Ring.

~ To Be Continued