Author's Note: Wow! Another chapter! Who thought I had it in me!?
IFF: You're right, Frodo simply isn't suffering enough, but what can I say? This is Sam's story! LOL!
Chapter 16 The Black Shadow
Saruman was disturbed. Something had happened and he could not make contact with the halfling bringing him the Ring. He feared something had happened to it. He stood atop his mighty fortress awaiting the arrival of a falcon. He had sent the bird to search for Gorek and the hobbit and report back on their progress. It should return at any moment. As he considered the situation, he heard a faint, high-pitched cry high above him and with expectant eyes, watched as the bird streaked towards him. Saruman put up his arms and within moments, the bird had landed with a flurry of feathers. Saruman listened intently to what the bird had to say. It had seen Gorek and the hobbits moving towards Isengard, but it also reported on the ones trailing them. Saruman frowned. He knew that Gandalf would give chase, but he feared they were getting too close. He did not wish to take any chances and decided to take action. After releasing the falcon, he emitted a high, piercing whistle. A short while later, he was answered by the scream of the condor as it soared overhead. Sinking lower, it received its instructions: find Gorek and bring the hobbit back immediately. Saruman watched thoughtfully as the bird disappeared into the clouds.
"I don't understand!" cried Frodo again, This was all making his wounded head throb. "What do you mean?"
Boromir sighed in resignation. "In Gondor, we have fought Nazgul before. Not often, but enough to know what they are capable of. When a warrior fights or gets close to one of the Black Riders, he seems to develop a strange malady that none may cure. We call it the Black Shadow. Its victims fall into a deep sleep, during which they murmur words we cannot understand. Over time, they fall deeper into dream, becoming colder and colder until death finally claims them. No one thus afflicted ever survives. I am sorry Frodo, but I do not believe Sam will still live if ever we catch up to him."
"No!" Frodo shot back, "You can't know that! We have been close to Nazgul before and it didn't happen then! Why should it happen now?"
Boromir turned to Merry. "Merry," he said wearily, "Did Sam appear different to you after the Wraith was pulled away from him?"
Merry stared at Boromir for a moment before nodding miserably. "He.he seemed so weak and even paler than before. He acted as if nothing mattered anymore, even after I told him Frodo was still alive!"
Boromir sighed again before raising his eyes to Frodo's. "I am sorry, Frodo." he said softly.
Frodo leapt unsteadily to his feet, ignoring the waves of dizziness, and stared at the others defiantly. "Well, I for one am NOT going to give up on Sam! If no one will go with me, I shall go find Sam myself!" Pippin, helped Merry to his feet and the three hobbits stood united, side by side, glaring at the big folk.
"Peace!" exclaimed Aragorn with a slight smile, raising his hands in surrender "No one said we were going to leave Sam to perish in the hands of Saruman or his Uruk-hai. What Boromir says may indeed be true. I also have seen the effects of the Black Shadow, but we will not abandon Sam." He now looked around at the others. "However, I suggest that Legolas and I go on ahead. Two may travel more swiftly than eight and Black Shadow or not, Sam's life depends on us retrieving him as soon as possible."
Gandalf nodded. "I confess, I do not like splitting up the Fellowship, but what you say is true. Frodo and Merry are in no condition to continue this grueling pace. Boromir, Gimli, and I will remain here with the hobbits. We will wait for two days, then we will begin traveling back to the north." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "We know Caradhras is no longer a safe route for us. As we discussed before, we must travel through the mines of Moria." Reluctantly, the others agreed.
The hobbits approached Aragorn as he prepared to leave. "Please, Strider," choked Frodo, "Alive or.or not, please bring Sam back to us." Aragorn felt his own throat tighten as he surveyed the stricken faces of the hobbits before him. He smiled grimly and nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. He clapped Frodo on the shoulder, then turned to Legolas and the two of them trotted away down the trail.
Panting, Gorek turned away from the edge of the bluff. He had watched with great satisfaction as the wraith disappeared into the foaming rapids below. He flinched slightly as he strode away towards the grotto. Looking down with irritation, he examined the ugly wound inflicted by the Nazgul's blade. Black blood flowed freely down his side. He searched though his pouch and brought forth a small wooden box. He opened it and smeared some dark, foul-smelling stuff over the wound, then bandaged it. That would do.
Now, it was time to get going.
Gorek strode over to the grotto where he had left the halflings and stopped abruptly. He emitted a low, angry growl when he noticed one was gone. However, the other still lay among the rocks. He roughly turned the hobbit over and was relieved to find that at least it was the one he needed. He debated about going to look for the other, but decided not to waste any more time. This one looked worse than ever and it wouldn't do to bring a dead halfling back to Lord Saruman. He absently wondered if that black creature had done something to the small creature. Gorek took a small flask from the same pouch and poured a burning liquid into the unconscious hobbit's mouth. With a cough and a low moan, Sam's eyes slowly opened. At least it was still alive, thought Gorek.
Sam looked up into the night sky feeling as if he were in a dream. He gradually noticed an odd emptiness, as if he had lost something dear to him. Then, he remembered the Ring. His hand unconsciously crept to his breast before he vaguely recalled what had happened. He had given the Ring to Merry to take to safety. Merry.. Had Merry gotten away? Without warning, Gorek seized Sam and pulled him roughly to his feet. Sam stood unsteadily leaning on a rock for support. He couldn't seem to concentrate.
"Alright, rat," snarled Gorek, "Yer friend might be gone, but I've still got you and yer the one Lord Saruman wants." He peered down at Sam's gray, waxen face. "You'd just better not die before we get to Isengard!" Sam blinked vacantly at the Uruk. His eyes felt so heavy and his knees began to buckle. With a growl of aggravation, Gorek grabbed Sam and slung him over his shoulder and started off.
As the night wore on, Gorek found that running was becoming more and more difficult. The morning sun was high in the bright sky when he finally came to halt, his knees buckling beneath him. He sprawled onto the ground, sending the Sam flying. The halfling had been unconscious since they had resumed their journey, yet he continued to ramble incoherently. Gorek shook his head in confusion. What was wrong with him? His limbs suddenly refused to obey him and he became aware of the hot, black blood trickling down his side again. He snarled weakly as he realized that the Nazgul's blade must have been poisoned. Well, he thought foggily, if he was going to die, then so would the halfling. There was no one to rescue him now. With several rattling gasps, Gorek slid into unconsciousness and moments later, was dead.
Aragorn and Legolas sped through the night. They had reached the spot on the bluff where the Orc and Nazgul had battled. Aragorn pointed out the spots of black blood staining the soil and rocks and they felt encouraged that if the Uruk was badly wounded he would be forced to travel more slowly.
It was late in the afternoon when they finally caught sight of their long elusive quarry. "Aragorn, look!" cried Legolas spotting a large dark figure lying prone on the trail some distance below them. "It looks like the Uruk-hai!" Aragorn gave him a relieved smile as they picked up their pace.
Suddenly, a harsh scream split the silence of the mountain air and a huge black shadow passed over them. Looking upwards, Aragorn's eyes widened in surprise as a huge black condor swooped down towards where the Gorek lay, grabbed something from just beyond the body and with powerful strokes of it's expansive wings, began its ascent. "It's got Sam!" cried Aragorn spotting the small figure clasped in the condor's talons. Without a word, Legolas fit an arrow into his bow and let it fly with all the accuracy he could muster. The bird was perhaps fifty feet from the ground when the arrow pierced its heart. With a shriek of pain the bird plummeted towards the ground and disappeared behind the trees.
Aragorn and Legolas ran with all speed towards where they believed the bird to have come down. They raced down the hill, leaping over the orc's body in their path and finally through the thick trees beyond.
"There it is!" cried Aragorn They had come out of the trees into a rock- strewn field. The bird lay in a crumpled heap. "But where is Sam?" Frantically, they searched the surrounding terrain before spying Sam at the bottom of a deep gully. In a shower of dust and gravel, Aragorn slid down to where Sam lay unmoving. The Ranger gently turned him over and felt tears start in his eyes as he gazed upon Sam's pallid face. If he wasn't dead yet, he soon would be. Legolas was watching from the lip of the gully. Aragorn looked up at him. There was still a small chance he could save Sam, but they must act swiftly. "Legolas!" he called, "Quickly! A fire! We must boil some water." Legolas nodded and disappeared.
"Alright, Sam." said Aragorn lifting the hobbit into his arms, "Stay with me! We are not ready to lose you yet!" He laboriously climbed up the gully to where Legolas had started a fire with a small pot of water over it. Legolas turned his worried eyes to Aragorn.
"How is he?"
Aragorn gently laid Sam onto the ground to better examine him. Sam's left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, obviously broken in his fall. There may be other injuries as well, thought Aragorn, but they would have to wait. Sam's shallow breathing was labored and congested, but his body felt eerily cold. His gray face just confirmed Aragorn's fears. He was suffering the last stages of the Black Shadow. "Oh Sam," sighed Aragorn quietly, "I am terribly sorry you have had to suffer so." He gently pushed Sam's matted curls from his brow.
Legolas joined them a few moments later with the hot water. Aragorn took a pouch from his belt and removed several leaves of dried athelas and placed them in the water. "After what happened to Frodo on Weathertop," he remarked, "I felt it would be prudent to carry some of these with me." Although not as powerful as newly picked leaves, the fresh fragrance of the athelas wafted over them, making their hearts feel lighter despite the dire circumstances.
Aragorn looked down at Sam, took a deep breath, and laid his hands firmly on Sam's brow. "Come back to us, Sam." he called softly, "Sam, please come back." For many long moments Aragorn remained thus, softly calling while Legolas held the steeping athelas nearby. Sam remained unchanged.
Finally, Aragorn sat back, his face pale and exhausted, his eyes full of grief. He closed them for a few moments before raising them to meet those of Legolas. "He will not return." Aragorn said sorrowfully. "He feels he has nothing left to live for. He welcomes death."
Legolas frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. How could anyone welcome death? He thought a moment. "We must take him to Frodo." he said simply. Aragorn looked up at him again, hope beginning to take form in his heart.
"Yes!" he whispered, excitedly. "Yes! I cannot call him back, but maybe Frodo can!"
IFF: You're right, Frodo simply isn't suffering enough, but what can I say? This is Sam's story! LOL!
Chapter 16 The Black Shadow
Saruman was disturbed. Something had happened and he could not make contact with the halfling bringing him the Ring. He feared something had happened to it. He stood atop his mighty fortress awaiting the arrival of a falcon. He had sent the bird to search for Gorek and the hobbit and report back on their progress. It should return at any moment. As he considered the situation, he heard a faint, high-pitched cry high above him and with expectant eyes, watched as the bird streaked towards him. Saruman put up his arms and within moments, the bird had landed with a flurry of feathers. Saruman listened intently to what the bird had to say. It had seen Gorek and the hobbits moving towards Isengard, but it also reported on the ones trailing them. Saruman frowned. He knew that Gandalf would give chase, but he feared they were getting too close. He did not wish to take any chances and decided to take action. After releasing the falcon, he emitted a high, piercing whistle. A short while later, he was answered by the scream of the condor as it soared overhead. Sinking lower, it received its instructions: find Gorek and bring the hobbit back immediately. Saruman watched thoughtfully as the bird disappeared into the clouds.
"I don't understand!" cried Frodo again, This was all making his wounded head throb. "What do you mean?"
Boromir sighed in resignation. "In Gondor, we have fought Nazgul before. Not often, but enough to know what they are capable of. When a warrior fights or gets close to one of the Black Riders, he seems to develop a strange malady that none may cure. We call it the Black Shadow. Its victims fall into a deep sleep, during which they murmur words we cannot understand. Over time, they fall deeper into dream, becoming colder and colder until death finally claims them. No one thus afflicted ever survives. I am sorry Frodo, but I do not believe Sam will still live if ever we catch up to him."
"No!" Frodo shot back, "You can't know that! We have been close to Nazgul before and it didn't happen then! Why should it happen now?"
Boromir turned to Merry. "Merry," he said wearily, "Did Sam appear different to you after the Wraith was pulled away from him?"
Merry stared at Boromir for a moment before nodding miserably. "He.he seemed so weak and even paler than before. He acted as if nothing mattered anymore, even after I told him Frodo was still alive!"
Boromir sighed again before raising his eyes to Frodo's. "I am sorry, Frodo." he said softly.
Frodo leapt unsteadily to his feet, ignoring the waves of dizziness, and stared at the others defiantly. "Well, I for one am NOT going to give up on Sam! If no one will go with me, I shall go find Sam myself!" Pippin, helped Merry to his feet and the three hobbits stood united, side by side, glaring at the big folk.
"Peace!" exclaimed Aragorn with a slight smile, raising his hands in surrender "No one said we were going to leave Sam to perish in the hands of Saruman or his Uruk-hai. What Boromir says may indeed be true. I also have seen the effects of the Black Shadow, but we will not abandon Sam." He now looked around at the others. "However, I suggest that Legolas and I go on ahead. Two may travel more swiftly than eight and Black Shadow or not, Sam's life depends on us retrieving him as soon as possible."
Gandalf nodded. "I confess, I do not like splitting up the Fellowship, but what you say is true. Frodo and Merry are in no condition to continue this grueling pace. Boromir, Gimli, and I will remain here with the hobbits. We will wait for two days, then we will begin traveling back to the north." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "We know Caradhras is no longer a safe route for us. As we discussed before, we must travel through the mines of Moria." Reluctantly, the others agreed.
The hobbits approached Aragorn as he prepared to leave. "Please, Strider," choked Frodo, "Alive or.or not, please bring Sam back to us." Aragorn felt his own throat tighten as he surveyed the stricken faces of the hobbits before him. He smiled grimly and nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. He clapped Frodo on the shoulder, then turned to Legolas and the two of them trotted away down the trail.
Panting, Gorek turned away from the edge of the bluff. He had watched with great satisfaction as the wraith disappeared into the foaming rapids below. He flinched slightly as he strode away towards the grotto. Looking down with irritation, he examined the ugly wound inflicted by the Nazgul's blade. Black blood flowed freely down his side. He searched though his pouch and brought forth a small wooden box. He opened it and smeared some dark, foul-smelling stuff over the wound, then bandaged it. That would do.
Now, it was time to get going.
Gorek strode over to the grotto where he had left the halflings and stopped abruptly. He emitted a low, angry growl when he noticed one was gone. However, the other still lay among the rocks. He roughly turned the hobbit over and was relieved to find that at least it was the one he needed. He debated about going to look for the other, but decided not to waste any more time. This one looked worse than ever and it wouldn't do to bring a dead halfling back to Lord Saruman. He absently wondered if that black creature had done something to the small creature. Gorek took a small flask from the same pouch and poured a burning liquid into the unconscious hobbit's mouth. With a cough and a low moan, Sam's eyes slowly opened. At least it was still alive, thought Gorek.
Sam looked up into the night sky feeling as if he were in a dream. He gradually noticed an odd emptiness, as if he had lost something dear to him. Then, he remembered the Ring. His hand unconsciously crept to his breast before he vaguely recalled what had happened. He had given the Ring to Merry to take to safety. Merry.. Had Merry gotten away? Without warning, Gorek seized Sam and pulled him roughly to his feet. Sam stood unsteadily leaning on a rock for support. He couldn't seem to concentrate.
"Alright, rat," snarled Gorek, "Yer friend might be gone, but I've still got you and yer the one Lord Saruman wants." He peered down at Sam's gray, waxen face. "You'd just better not die before we get to Isengard!" Sam blinked vacantly at the Uruk. His eyes felt so heavy and his knees began to buckle. With a growl of aggravation, Gorek grabbed Sam and slung him over his shoulder and started off.
As the night wore on, Gorek found that running was becoming more and more difficult. The morning sun was high in the bright sky when he finally came to halt, his knees buckling beneath him. He sprawled onto the ground, sending the Sam flying. The halfling had been unconscious since they had resumed their journey, yet he continued to ramble incoherently. Gorek shook his head in confusion. What was wrong with him? His limbs suddenly refused to obey him and he became aware of the hot, black blood trickling down his side again. He snarled weakly as he realized that the Nazgul's blade must have been poisoned. Well, he thought foggily, if he was going to die, then so would the halfling. There was no one to rescue him now. With several rattling gasps, Gorek slid into unconsciousness and moments later, was dead.
Aragorn and Legolas sped through the night. They had reached the spot on the bluff where the Orc and Nazgul had battled. Aragorn pointed out the spots of black blood staining the soil and rocks and they felt encouraged that if the Uruk was badly wounded he would be forced to travel more slowly.
It was late in the afternoon when they finally caught sight of their long elusive quarry. "Aragorn, look!" cried Legolas spotting a large dark figure lying prone on the trail some distance below them. "It looks like the Uruk-hai!" Aragorn gave him a relieved smile as they picked up their pace.
Suddenly, a harsh scream split the silence of the mountain air and a huge black shadow passed over them. Looking upwards, Aragorn's eyes widened in surprise as a huge black condor swooped down towards where the Gorek lay, grabbed something from just beyond the body and with powerful strokes of it's expansive wings, began its ascent. "It's got Sam!" cried Aragorn spotting the small figure clasped in the condor's talons. Without a word, Legolas fit an arrow into his bow and let it fly with all the accuracy he could muster. The bird was perhaps fifty feet from the ground when the arrow pierced its heart. With a shriek of pain the bird plummeted towards the ground and disappeared behind the trees.
Aragorn and Legolas ran with all speed towards where they believed the bird to have come down. They raced down the hill, leaping over the orc's body in their path and finally through the thick trees beyond.
"There it is!" cried Aragorn They had come out of the trees into a rock- strewn field. The bird lay in a crumpled heap. "But where is Sam?" Frantically, they searched the surrounding terrain before spying Sam at the bottom of a deep gully. In a shower of dust and gravel, Aragorn slid down to where Sam lay unmoving. The Ranger gently turned him over and felt tears start in his eyes as he gazed upon Sam's pallid face. If he wasn't dead yet, he soon would be. Legolas was watching from the lip of the gully. Aragorn looked up at him. There was still a small chance he could save Sam, but they must act swiftly. "Legolas!" he called, "Quickly! A fire! We must boil some water." Legolas nodded and disappeared.
"Alright, Sam." said Aragorn lifting the hobbit into his arms, "Stay with me! We are not ready to lose you yet!" He laboriously climbed up the gully to where Legolas had started a fire with a small pot of water over it. Legolas turned his worried eyes to Aragorn.
"How is he?"
Aragorn gently laid Sam onto the ground to better examine him. Sam's left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, obviously broken in his fall. There may be other injuries as well, thought Aragorn, but they would have to wait. Sam's shallow breathing was labored and congested, but his body felt eerily cold. His gray face just confirmed Aragorn's fears. He was suffering the last stages of the Black Shadow. "Oh Sam," sighed Aragorn quietly, "I am terribly sorry you have had to suffer so." He gently pushed Sam's matted curls from his brow.
Legolas joined them a few moments later with the hot water. Aragorn took a pouch from his belt and removed several leaves of dried athelas and placed them in the water. "After what happened to Frodo on Weathertop," he remarked, "I felt it would be prudent to carry some of these with me." Although not as powerful as newly picked leaves, the fresh fragrance of the athelas wafted over them, making their hearts feel lighter despite the dire circumstances.
Aragorn looked down at Sam, took a deep breath, and laid his hands firmly on Sam's brow. "Come back to us, Sam." he called softly, "Sam, please come back." For many long moments Aragorn remained thus, softly calling while Legolas held the steeping athelas nearby. Sam remained unchanged.
Finally, Aragorn sat back, his face pale and exhausted, his eyes full of grief. He closed them for a few moments before raising them to meet those of Legolas. "He will not return." Aragorn said sorrowfully. "He feels he has nothing left to live for. He welcomes death."
Legolas frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. How could anyone welcome death? He thought a moment. "We must take him to Frodo." he said simply. Aragorn looked up at him again, hope beginning to take form in his heart.
"Yes!" he whispered, excitedly. "Yes! I cannot call him back, but maybe Frodo can!"