Disclaimers: The characters and story of the Lord of the Rings belong to
JRR Tolkien.
This is my second attempt at fan fiction. I've had fun writing it and hopefully some of you will enjoy reading it! Thanks!
Chapter 1
The sky was dark with dust and ash swirling around his head. Sam could scarcely breathe and each gasp was like inhaling shards of glass. The heat and noxious fumes had seared his agonized lungs. He knew this was the end. He and Frodo were marooned on a small hillock, surrounded by molten rock. There was no escape. The very ground beneath their feet was trembling as if about to explode. He looked down at his fallen master, cradled in his arms. Frodo's meager reserves of strength had been sapped by his final battle for the Ring. Gollum had defeated Frodo, but with Gollum's victory had come the destruction of the Ring. With tearing eyes, Sam turned his head to take one yearning look at the sky, knowing it would be his last. He frowned, rubbed his eyes and tried to peer more closely through the plumes of dust and debris. It looked like something in the distance was flying towards them! Nazgul, perhaps? No, he didn't have that sense of fear that always accompanied the Black Riders. Suddenly, he remembered Bilbo's tale of how the great eagles had come to his and the dwarves rescue so many years ago. Could this be history repeating itself? He gently laid Frodo on the ground and struggled to his feet. He swayed with dizziness. He knew his time was running short. He could barely breathe and he was fighting to stay conscious. The ground was becoming more and more unstable.
The three figures in the sky were coming closer and closer. Yes! Sam could have screamed with joy. The eagles had come! Without thinking, Sam turned and lifted Frodo in his arms and when the first eagle swooped down, Sam held Frodo's lifeless body as high as he could. The eagle deftly grabbed Frodo in his mighty talons and flew off to the west.
Gandalf, riding on the back of the noble eagle king, Gwaihir, almost cried with relief as he saw the small figure on the desolate hill below bravely struggle to his feet and raise his companion to be rescued by Landroval. He knew instinctively it must be Sam. Gandalf imagined that after all their trials and ordeals; Sam would have still been the stronger of the two and would continue to fight for his master even at the very end. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumbling explosion. Gwaihir was forced farther up by the power of blast. Gandalf looked on with horror and shock through a tower of billowing smoke as the unstable ground upon which Sam stood, opened like a gaping maw, swallowing the valiant hobbit into its shadowy depths. Sam was gone.
Gwaihir circled the spot several times going as low as he dared, but there was nothing to be seen. "We must leave this place!" he finally cried to Gandalf. "I cannot withstand these poisonous fumes much longer!" Reluctantly, Gandalf nodded. He knew there was nothing more to be done, but to have lost Sam at the last minute was a bitter draught indeed. If Frodo was still alive, he might yet survive his injuries, but Gandalf questioned whether he could survive the loss of both the Ring and his closest companion. With a heavy heart, he and Gwairhir followed Landroval and Meneldor back to the west.
Legolas stared up into the sky. He had watched as Gandalf and the eagles sped off to the east, to Mordor, in hopes of rescuing Frodo and Sam, and now he watched apprehensively for their return. Gimli stood beside him. "Do you think Gandalf will find them?" he asked quietly.
"I do not know," sighed the Elf, fingering his bow. "We do not know if both Hobbits even made it to Mt. Doom. The Mouth of Sauron had items from each so either could have been captured. Even if both made it to Orodruin, it is unlikely they survived its eruption." He sighed again, continuing to scan the sky to the east. Suddenly, he gripped his bow tighter and stared even more intently.
"I see something!" he cried, trying to make out the details. Gimli stood by impatiently, trying to see for himself. "I can see one eagle and he is carrying someone!" Legolas turned to the dwarf excitedly, "It looks like one of the Hobbits!"
"Where are the other eagles!?" growled Gimli anxiously, "Where is Gandalf?" Soon, even Gimli was able to make out the huge eagle winging its way towards the armies of the West. Aragorn rode up to them, sword in hand. He too was watching the mighty bird.
What do your eyes tell you, Legolas?" he asked, "Can you tell who it is?"
Legolas shook his head. "No," he replied slowly, "I cannot see him well enough. It looks as if the eagle will land in the field behind us."
Aragorn nodded. "I should meet him there. It may be that if the hobbit lives, he will need my help. The armies of Mordor are in retreat and Imrahil and the others are more than capable of handling them without me. Come, let us see what we can do."
The three companions hurried to the field just as Landroval gracefully swooped down and gently lay his burden on the grass. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli followed several Healers as they carried the lifeless hobbit into a nearby tent. Aragorn rushed to the cot where the Hobbit had been settled and felt his heart grow cold. It was Frodo, but a haggard, aged Frodo. Covered with the filth of Mordor, he was barely recognizable, but Strider knew him. Frodo lay unmoving. No breath could be discerned. Aragorn gently lay his hands on Frodo's head and sunk into a healing trance, hoping against hope to bring the Ringbearer back to them.
Legolas and Gimli watched for a few moments, then the anxious elf announced he was going back outside to watch for the others. Gimli nodded and followed him, knowing there was nothing he could do to help Frodo. It wasn't long before Legolas spotted the other two eagles returning to camp. His face fell when he realized that one of the eagles bore no burden. Gandalf was alone. Legolas turned his stricken face to Gimli, unable to utter the words, but one look told the dwarf all he needed to know. Another of the Fellowship had been lost to the Shadow. The two companions watched silently as Gwaihir delivered Gandalf to them, then flew off to follow his brothers. Gandalf's eyes followed the Lord of the Eagle's ascent, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned to face the others.
"Was it Frodo or Sam?" he asked wearily. Although he believed Sam to have perished at the foot of Mt. Doom, he wasn't positive.
"Frodo. He is in yonder tent," replied Legolas, "He was barely alive when he was brought in. Aragorn is with him now. What about Sam?"
Just then, the tent opened and Aragon stumbled out. He looked up in surprise at Gandalf. "I think Frodo will live," he said his voice husky with exhaustion. Bringing Frodo back had sapped him of much of his energy. He looked around expectantly. "Sam?" he asked.
"Sam is lost." Gandalf told them dully. "He was alive when we got there. He and Frodo were marooned on a small hill, surrounded by flame and molten rock. Sam spotted us and raised Frodo up so Landroval could grab him. Then there was a mighty earthquake and Sam was swallowed by Orodruin itself. There was nothing I could have done to save him. If he had not lifted Frodo, do not believe either one would have been rescued. Sam sacrificed himself to save his master."
This is my second attempt at fan fiction. I've had fun writing it and hopefully some of you will enjoy reading it! Thanks!
Chapter 1
The sky was dark with dust and ash swirling around his head. Sam could scarcely breathe and each gasp was like inhaling shards of glass. The heat and noxious fumes had seared his agonized lungs. He knew this was the end. He and Frodo were marooned on a small hillock, surrounded by molten rock. There was no escape. The very ground beneath their feet was trembling as if about to explode. He looked down at his fallen master, cradled in his arms. Frodo's meager reserves of strength had been sapped by his final battle for the Ring. Gollum had defeated Frodo, but with Gollum's victory had come the destruction of the Ring. With tearing eyes, Sam turned his head to take one yearning look at the sky, knowing it would be his last. He frowned, rubbed his eyes and tried to peer more closely through the plumes of dust and debris. It looked like something in the distance was flying towards them! Nazgul, perhaps? No, he didn't have that sense of fear that always accompanied the Black Riders. Suddenly, he remembered Bilbo's tale of how the great eagles had come to his and the dwarves rescue so many years ago. Could this be history repeating itself? He gently laid Frodo on the ground and struggled to his feet. He swayed with dizziness. He knew his time was running short. He could barely breathe and he was fighting to stay conscious. The ground was becoming more and more unstable.
The three figures in the sky were coming closer and closer. Yes! Sam could have screamed with joy. The eagles had come! Without thinking, Sam turned and lifted Frodo in his arms and when the first eagle swooped down, Sam held Frodo's lifeless body as high as he could. The eagle deftly grabbed Frodo in his mighty talons and flew off to the west.
Gandalf, riding on the back of the noble eagle king, Gwaihir, almost cried with relief as he saw the small figure on the desolate hill below bravely struggle to his feet and raise his companion to be rescued by Landroval. He knew instinctively it must be Sam. Gandalf imagined that after all their trials and ordeals; Sam would have still been the stronger of the two and would continue to fight for his master even at the very end. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumbling explosion. Gwaihir was forced farther up by the power of blast. Gandalf looked on with horror and shock through a tower of billowing smoke as the unstable ground upon which Sam stood, opened like a gaping maw, swallowing the valiant hobbit into its shadowy depths. Sam was gone.
Gwaihir circled the spot several times going as low as he dared, but there was nothing to be seen. "We must leave this place!" he finally cried to Gandalf. "I cannot withstand these poisonous fumes much longer!" Reluctantly, Gandalf nodded. He knew there was nothing more to be done, but to have lost Sam at the last minute was a bitter draught indeed. If Frodo was still alive, he might yet survive his injuries, but Gandalf questioned whether he could survive the loss of both the Ring and his closest companion. With a heavy heart, he and Gwairhir followed Landroval and Meneldor back to the west.
Legolas stared up into the sky. He had watched as Gandalf and the eagles sped off to the east, to Mordor, in hopes of rescuing Frodo and Sam, and now he watched apprehensively for their return. Gimli stood beside him. "Do you think Gandalf will find them?" he asked quietly.
"I do not know," sighed the Elf, fingering his bow. "We do not know if both Hobbits even made it to Mt. Doom. The Mouth of Sauron had items from each so either could have been captured. Even if both made it to Orodruin, it is unlikely they survived its eruption." He sighed again, continuing to scan the sky to the east. Suddenly, he gripped his bow tighter and stared even more intently.
"I see something!" he cried, trying to make out the details. Gimli stood by impatiently, trying to see for himself. "I can see one eagle and he is carrying someone!" Legolas turned to the dwarf excitedly, "It looks like one of the Hobbits!"
"Where are the other eagles!?" growled Gimli anxiously, "Where is Gandalf?" Soon, even Gimli was able to make out the huge eagle winging its way towards the armies of the West. Aragorn rode up to them, sword in hand. He too was watching the mighty bird.
What do your eyes tell you, Legolas?" he asked, "Can you tell who it is?"
Legolas shook his head. "No," he replied slowly, "I cannot see him well enough. It looks as if the eagle will land in the field behind us."
Aragorn nodded. "I should meet him there. It may be that if the hobbit lives, he will need my help. The armies of Mordor are in retreat and Imrahil and the others are more than capable of handling them without me. Come, let us see what we can do."
The three companions hurried to the field just as Landroval gracefully swooped down and gently lay his burden on the grass. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli followed several Healers as they carried the lifeless hobbit into a nearby tent. Aragorn rushed to the cot where the Hobbit had been settled and felt his heart grow cold. It was Frodo, but a haggard, aged Frodo. Covered with the filth of Mordor, he was barely recognizable, but Strider knew him. Frodo lay unmoving. No breath could be discerned. Aragorn gently lay his hands on Frodo's head and sunk into a healing trance, hoping against hope to bring the Ringbearer back to them.
Legolas and Gimli watched for a few moments, then the anxious elf announced he was going back outside to watch for the others. Gimli nodded and followed him, knowing there was nothing he could do to help Frodo. It wasn't long before Legolas spotted the other two eagles returning to camp. His face fell when he realized that one of the eagles bore no burden. Gandalf was alone. Legolas turned his stricken face to Gimli, unable to utter the words, but one look told the dwarf all he needed to know. Another of the Fellowship had been lost to the Shadow. The two companions watched silently as Gwaihir delivered Gandalf to them, then flew off to follow his brothers. Gandalf's eyes followed the Lord of the Eagle's ascent, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned to face the others.
"Was it Frodo or Sam?" he asked wearily. Although he believed Sam to have perished at the foot of Mt. Doom, he wasn't positive.
"Frodo. He is in yonder tent," replied Legolas, "He was barely alive when he was brought in. Aragorn is with him now. What about Sam?"
Just then, the tent opened and Aragon stumbled out. He looked up in surprise at Gandalf. "I think Frodo will live," he said his voice husky with exhaustion. Bringing Frodo back had sapped him of much of his energy. He looked around expectantly. "Sam?" he asked.
"Sam is lost." Gandalf told them dully. "He was alive when we got there. He and Frodo were marooned on a small hill, surrounded by flame and molten rock. Sam spotted us and raised Frodo up so Landroval could grab him. Then there was a mighty earthquake and Sam was swallowed by Orodruin itself. There was nothing I could have done to save him. If he had not lifted Frodo, do not believe either one would have been rescued. Sam sacrificed himself to save his master."