Simple and Clean

A/N: ::ducks random objects thrown:: Apologies! Apologies! I can't say enough! Oh dear, oh dear.....::Picks up apple thrown at her by Aare and begins to eat it.:: I have an announcement to make! I am determined to get this finished by the time RotK comes out. (It makes the waiting less painful.) Because of this, I have uploaded not one, but TWO chapters for you all tonight. This chapter is very....twisty/turny. I actually did not want to destroy this chapter. Yeah!! This chapter (and the one following it) are largely movie based, mainly because it was far easier to write. See if you can pick out the movie-dialogue!

To the reviewers:

ZoSo_Gamgee-Baggins: Ai! I love long reviews! Heh heh....silly Sam, always sleeping.....::re-reads down below:: Hmm....

Violet Raven: Yea! I'm glad you like that it follows canon; I've always been kind of afraid about that. I don't want to tamper with the story, only tell it from another view-point. I want for people to read this story and say "Hmm....well, that could have happened!" I'm converting people (or trying to)! Heh heh...Oh, say hello to your sister for me!

XxPerriwinkleHummingBrdXx: ::hands Sue-be-gone:: Use this well. Hope you're still here! (with all the slow updating...)

Ce: Another lengthy review! ::sniff:: I love you all. I'm glad you're enjoying this!

Bakemono:*sigh* ::mops Bakemono off the floor and then sets bucket in front of computer to allow for next chapter reading.:: ::thinks:: ::hands Bakemono a cookie for melting. ^_^::

Aare: Ah, a new reviewer! ::ahem:: Well....I have updated! Welcome, and I hope to hear more from you!

Chapter Seven

Vanimelda

Sam awoke the next morning feeling fresh and full of vigor. His sleep had been deep; his dreams were painted beautiful colors with the memory of a thousands sunsets. He had dreamt of the past, of a friend's smile at a childhood complexity, of a mother's touch after the worst of a storm, of the feel of his Frodo's breath on his cheek after an autumn party. With waking the memories did not fade, but instead gave Sam some kind of new strength and courage to carry on. The cry of the black riders the night before had chilled him, but the memory of Frodo's elvish words whispered under darkness of night warmed him better than any fire. Sam went to the kitchen whistling.

"Good-morning, Sam!" Merry chirped perkily as the gardener entered the kitchen. He was stoking the fire; a glance at the front door told Sam that Merry had already prepared a great deal of their supplies.

The Gamgee gave the Brandybuck a grateful smile , then said "Mornin', Mr. Merry. Is no one else up yet, then?"

Merry nodded and set the poker down, content with the size of the fire. "Not yet, but I shall soon fix that. I think I shall go wake Pip up first, since he threatened to bite my hand if I roused him too early, and I would like to get all biting out of the way as soon as possible."

Sam, who had not heard the conversation earlier that night, knitted his eyes together in confusion, then decided it was better not to ask and said instead, " I'll be startin' breakfast then."

"Excellent," said Merry with a smile. "I'll just go wake my lazy cousins and we'll have a good last meal before we head off."

Sam frowned slightly, not liking Merry's choice of words. 'Last meal,' did not sound too encouraging. He shifted uncomfortably then said, "What'll you have then, Mr. Merry?"

"Hmm?"

"For breakfast." Sam had begun to bustle around the kitchen, seemingly completely at home. He had very little trouble locating anything, something that told Merry he had done a good job of setting things up like they had been at Bag End. "I know what Mr. Frodo likes well enough, but I don't know you're preferences, nor Master Pip's either," Sam continued.

Merry paused and stood thinking for a while. Meal choices are very important to a hobbit. After a good chunk of time had passed, the Brandybuck gave up, saying " You decide, Sam. Just be sure you prepare plenty; you know Pippin's appetite, not to mention Fatty's...."

Sam affirmed this with a nod and Merry left to go wake his cousins, leaving Sam alone with his good mood.

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~*

Sam's good mood had long dulled by the time they reached Bree. The journey there had taken days, and the foul weather was back. Drizzly rain spattered the four hobbit's faces as they rode and it showed no sign of abating.

"I suppose all the rain the Shire doesn't get," Sam muttered from his place beside Frodo. "Stays right outside of it and waits for any hobbit to pass the borders and then dumps down on them. Right miserable, this weather is."

"Don't be ridiculous," Merry said from behind. Merry, being a Brandybuck, was relatively well traveled and knew very well that it didn't always rain outside the Shire. "Anyway if its less rain you want you could always go back to the Barrow-Downs; it certainly was dry there."

Sam shuddered, remembering the horrible rocky place that he and his friends had just narrowly escaped. They'd been stupid enough to get lost and if it hadn't been for Frodo.....

Sam shuddered and moved closer to his master. The things that had been whispered in his ear while under the Barrow-Wight's spell were unspeakable; never had something pierced the depths of Sam's heart with such terror.

"Look Sam," Frodo was saying now, bringing the gardener out of his dark thoughts. "We are almost there. I can see lights, just ahead in the distance. We'll be staying at the inn tonight." Frodo sighed then, and cast his hooded head down. "I only hope that Gandalf will be there. I still do not understand why he's neglected to meet us so far."

Raising his head again, Frodo turned to his three companions and attempted to smile. "Well, riding in the rain is doing us no good. Chin up lads; no more than a half hour before we are in dry housing."

The Prancing Pony was dry housing indeed, but as the four hobbits got down off of their ponies and gazed up at the three-storied building, Sam found himself wishing that "dry housing" had meant anything else. It was a taller building than he had ever seen, save for the Old Mill in Hobbiton, and he certainly had never had the inclination to go climbing to the top of it to take a rest. Curtains were pulled across many window, some dark and some lit with a flickering light. As he gazed up at the inn, Sam could swear he saw unkind faces leering down at him, ducking out of the window just before he could get a good look at them.

"We surely aren't going to stay here for the night, are we, sir?" Sam asked nervously, turning back towards Frodo; but Frodo and the others had already started into the building and didn't hear him. Sam gave a last distrustful look around the area before running after his friends. Once safely inside after Merry, he turned around and quickly shut the door behind them.

Happy to be out of the rain, the hobbits pulled their hoods back and looked around the room. The front desk was right before them, a good foot above their heads, and just past it was the parlor, full of the inn's patrons, drinking, laughing, brawling, and (Sam was sure) swindling. There were more Big People in that room than Samwise had ever seen; Men, mostly, though there were a few Dwarves, and some of the local hobbits. The air was smoky, and a large fire hummed in the fireplace. Sam fidgeted uneasily as Frodo spoke to the inn-keeper and got them a room, but Merry and Pippin looked absolutely enthralled.

"Did you see the size of those tankards?" Sam heard Pippin whisper to Merry. "They're nearly the size of my head!"

"I'd say that they are bigger, and that, my dear Pip, is saying something," Merry whispered back, receiving a jab in the side from his cousin. "But you must remember, we're here to help Frodo. That means one of us must remain relatively sober."

Pippin nodded and opened his mouth to reply , but Merry cut him off. "Never fear, Pippin! I shall drink enough for the both of us, so that you don't feel left out."

"Me!? Never! I see no reason why it has to be either of us. You are forgetting, Merry; we have Sam here! He'll look after Frodo for us, won't you, Sam?" Pippin asked, turning to face the gardener.

Sam raised an eyebrow, but before he could reply Frodo turned to them, saying "Alright then. We have got a room now. Let's go see if we can settle our things down."

"And then back to the common-room!" Merry and Pippin cried in syncopated voices.

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In a darkened corner of the busy inn, a man sat quietly, his long legs stretched out under the table at which he sat, his face head hooded and his face shadowed, his unseen eyes watching. He had been waiting. As he watched to four hobbits leave the front area and head back towards the rooms, he pulled out a pipe from the folds of the weather-worn cloak that was draped over his shoulders, lit it, and began to smoke thoughtfully. Perhaps tonight his wait had come to an end.

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"...And then out came Mayor Whitfoot, looking like a giant floured dumpling! As you can imagine, he was quite put off by the entire thing; and you can be sure Mrs. Whitfoot was as well, for she was the one who had to scrub all that chalk off him!" Pippin finished, with a wave of his hand. The small crowd of Bree-hobbits around him roared with laughter, and Merry clapped his cousin on the shoulder as he doubled over with giggles. The two of them were quite popular with the crowd in the parlor, and as soon as they finished the story of the collapse of the Town Hall in Michael Delving they were immediately asked for another.

Frodo and Sam sat at the next table, laughing at stories of their own. "....which taught me never to wake Merry up like that again!" Frodo was finishing, tears of laughter in his eyes. Sam took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his own laughter.

"You know, Mr. Frodo, its funny," he said when at last he had his chuckles under control. " When we came in here, I was worried somethin' awful. Its being in this strange place around all these....." He lowered his voice. "Rowdy big folk. But now we've sat here a while, and we've been laughin' like we were back home at the Green Dragon. " He stopped then, and took a swig from the tankard before him. Sam had something that he wanted to say, that he had wanted to say for a while. Perhaps it was the ale, or perhaps that courage that had been with Sam when he had woken up at Crickhollow was returning; either way, Sam swallowed, then cleared his throat. "We're not at home, and that's plain, but there's somethin'....almost as if...."

Frodo's laughter had stopped. He looked at Sam now with a smile of mild amusement, willing his friend to continue with his eyes.

Sam sighed, and stared down into his mug. "When you asked me what would happen if you decided to stay in Rivendell, sir, and I said that I'd be stayin' too? Well, I didn't rightly know why I said what I did then sir. Not that I didn't mean it!" Sam exclaimed quickly, seeing the corners of Frodo's lips turn down slightly. "I did. I know now why I said it. Its like....when you laugh like you were....I think that..." Sam felt his cheeks turning red, and wished desperately that they would stop. It made him feel very foolish and unable to say what he wanted to. "Well, I think that.....that home is wherever you are, Mr. Frodo." He took another sip of ale, unable to look his master in the face. "Simple as that."

Frodo gazed at his friend, still smiling. Sam's cheeks were rosy pink; obviously that simple statement had taken a lot for Sam to say. Frodo knew his friend was always worried about over-stepping his place. He wished he wouldn't, but Sam came from a different world than Frodo, Merry, and Pippin. He had grown up with his father always telling him that he was a worker, a servant, and that he should never speak to his betters in a way that was unbefitting to him. So Frodo knew that to say something so.....innocently sentimental must have taken a lot of courage. Well, if Sam could say something then so could he! Only....what could he say? He couldn't say that the sun rose and set by Sam, that the stars shone for him, that the flowers bloomed for him, to Frodo anyway. Or could he? Dare he?

"I-" Frodo started.

"Frodo! " Merry's voice interrupted. Frodo started and looked to the opposite table where his cousins were sitting turned in their seats to beckon at him. "Frodo, come on! Let them have a song; one of Bilbo's bizarre ones!"

Frodo looked back at Sam, who had finally raised his head up and gave Frodo a smile. "Go on, sir. Just be careful, mind you."

"Oh, no..." Frodo stuttered, turning back to Merry. "I couldn't....I would make a fool of myself..."

"You can't make any more a fool out of yourself, Frodo love, so come on!" Pippin quirked. "Merry and I shall help you, if you choose one we know."

"But-"

"A song! A song! Sing us something we haven't heard before!" cried the group of Bree-land hobbits. Frodo threw one last glance at Sam before Merry had hopped onto their table and pulled Frodo up as well. Frodo shot Merry a glare, but then found himself looking down at a crowd of expectant faces. So, he took a deep breath and began the first song that came into his mind.

There is an inn, a merry old inn

beneath an old gray hill,

And there they brew a beer so brown

That the Man in the Moon himself came down

One night to drink his fill.....

And Sam saw Frodo up there, laughing and singing along side his cousins (who joined in around the third verse; like most of Bilbo's songs this one was quite lengthy) and he loved him, oh how he loved him. How he wanted to go and take him by the hands and swing him around the way lands did with lasses at parties, and join him in his song, and then later tell him stories until they both fell asleep. A smile that had nothing to do with drunkenness or Frodo's comedic performance spread over the gardener's lips.

Beside him one of the Bree-land hobbits elbowed Sam in the side and said with a laugh "What a show! Have you lads got a reason for bein' here in Bree, or are you like a traveling circus or something?"

Sam smiled to himself and shook his head. "We've got our reasons, weather they be big or small to you."

Suddenly there was a loud crash and a gasp went up from the crowd. Sam had turned to look at the hobbit who had spoken to him and now both of them looked up at the sound. Merry and Pippin stood staring at the ground, their mouths hanging open in shock. Apparently, Frodo had fallen but....where had he gone?

"He's vanished!" Someone cried. "He's disappeared!"

Sam's heart took a dive and he choked. Disappeared? Bilbo had disappeared during his farewell party, something that had been because of-

"The ring.." Sam breathed, so quiet he couldn't even hear himself. He caught Merry and Pippin's eyes and saw that they were thinking the same thing. Frodo had somehow put on the Ring....

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Frodo never felt the thud as he hit the ground. He had gotten a little too into his performance and slipped. Now the world swished around him, the figures around him shadowy and distorted. Where was he? Panicking, he scooted back until his back struck something behind him. Was he trapped? There was heat on his face, growing warmer and warmer. Something hot had encircled his finger, Frodo noticed now, and looking down he saw the Ring, its gold glowing with an eerie light. He heard something then, and when he looked up even the shadowy figures around him had vanished, incinerated by the flame of a giant lidless eye, which stared directly at him. Frodo opened his mouth to scream; it was horrifying this thing; but no sound would come out. *Take it off!* Something screamed; Frodo was surprised to discover it was his own mind. *The Ring! Take it off!*

Shaking with fear, Frodo groped with his other hand to tear the Ring off of his finger. At once after he did so the world became clear again, the Eye vanished as if it had never been. The thing Frodo had bumped into was the leg of a table, which he was now cowering under, breathing as if he had just ran a great distance. He forced himself to take a deep breath, then closed his eyes in relief. A second later his eyes snapped open as a rough hand grabbed him by his shirt sleeve and hauled him out from under his hiding place.

"I think you've drawn a little too much attention to yourself, Mr. Underhill," growled a deep voice as it shoved him upstairs. Frodo felt as if he had escaped the fire-pan only to land in the fire. He dared not struggle as the man pushed him into a room on the second floor and shut the door behind them. Frodo ran over to the opposite side of the room and turned to face his assailant, a tall, cloaked man, whose face was hidden in the shadow of his hood. Frodo recognized him; he had seen him earlier that evening in a corner of the parlor. The inn-keeper had called him Strider, and said he was a Ranger. If that were true, then what did this Strider want with him?

"Who are you?" The hobbit demanded as he looked around the room for something with which to defend himself with.

"I can avoid being seen when I wish to," said the strange man, as he went around to the lit candles and pinched the flames with his fingers to extinguish them. "But to avoid being seen entirely, that is a rare gift." With a sweep of his hand the man dropped back his hood, revealing a haggard-looking face, lined with age and yet not old; hair scraggly and dark with the faintest touches of gray. Keen eyes, sea gray and searching studied the hobbit across the room.

"Who are you?" Frodo asked again, though the shrill tone left his voice.

The man was quiet a moment. Then he asked, "Are you frightened?"

Frodo hesitated, but ultimately found no reason why he should lie and say he was afraid when he clearly was. "Yes."

The dark-haired man laughed ruefully. "Not nearly frightened enough."

Suddenly the door to the room burst open and there were Sam, Merry, and Pippin. Merry and Pippin both looked rather frightened but Sam looked furious and ready for a fight.

"Let him go!" Sam demanded, holding his fists in front of him, ready to take on this grown man who was nearly twice his size and weight. "Or I'll have you, long-shanks!" The hobbit added as an extra touch. *

The man laughed again, and the hand that had flown to his belt seeking an unseen weapon now drew up to his side in a gesture of surrender.

"Peace! I mean you know harm. I apologize for the rough way I drew you all here, but I needed to speak to you, and after seeing that little stunt of yours-"

"It was an accident!" Frodo cried.

"I decided I could wait no longer," the stranger continued without heeding Frodo's words. "I am called Strider, and I seek to aid you. I know what hunts you."

The room grew quiet. Frodo stood still, watching this Strider carefully. Merry and Pippin had come in and now stood silently beside each other near the door. Sam bravely strode across the room to stand beside Frodo.

"Aid us?" Sam said incredulously. "You expect to aid us by haulin' my master up the stairs without any explanation and scarin' the rest of us near to death by it?! Aid us...." he huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at the man.

"I beg you only to listen to me. I'll tell you why I wish to help you and how I know you, Mr. Baggins. " Strider paused to glance at Sam. "Then you may judge my case as you will."

Frodo nearly winced at the mention of his true name. Now he must listen to this man, for he knew Frodo's real name, and he had not given it to any in Bree. Beside that, he felt no maliciousness from this person. Strider did not fill him with fear the way the black riders had, nor even give him the unpleasant chilled feeling the way some of the men in Bree did.

"Very well," Frodo said slowly. "We will listen to what you have to say."

Right then there was a quick rap on the door and in bustled the inn-keeper with a sealed letter in his hand. Strider retreated to a dark corner. After much chatter Frodo managed to decipher that it was a letter addressed to him from none other than Gandalf. Once the inn-keeper finally departed, Frodo broke the seal and opened the letter. The other hobbits gathered closer around him and read the letter with him. Strider remained where he was.

Dear Frodo,

Bad news has reached me here. I must go off at once. You had better leave Bag-End at once. I will return as soon as I can; and I will follow you, if I find that you are gone. Leave a message for me here, if you pass through Bree. You can trust the landlord. You may meet a friend of mine on the Road: a Man, lean, dark, tall, by some called Strider. He knows our business and will help you. Make for Rivendell. There I hope we may meet again. If I do not come, Elrond will advise you.

P.S. Do NOT use IT again, not for any reason whatever! Do not travel by night!

P.P.S. Make sure it is the real Strider. There are many strange men on the roads. His true name is Aragorn.

All that is gold does not glitter

Not all those who wander are lost

The old that is strong does not wither

Deep roots are not reached by the frost

From the ashes a fire shall be woken

A light from the shadows shall spring

Renewed shall be the blade that was broken

The crownless again shall be king.

Fare Well!

Gandalf

Frodo finished reading and looked at Strider, who leaned almost carelessly against the wall, fingering the hilt of the sword at his side. With a cry of surprise Frodo realized that the sword would have done little even if a foe had come upon them; it was broken a little ways past the hilt.

There was a long pause. Then Frodo said quietly, "Alright then. You have guessed my true name. It is only fitting, then, that you share yours with us."

Strider looked slightly taken aback at this, but he nodded shortly and replied, "That is fair enough. I have many names in many different tongues of Middle Earth, but my given name is this: I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and if by my life or death I can serve you, I will."

There was again silence, and Sam leaned close to Frodo. "I still don't trust him, Mr. Frodo. Don't like the look of him, really. He could.....he could be pretendin'; maybe he read the letter before we got to it."

Frodo frowned. He doubted that was the case; the seal had been intact. He thought for a while, a good minute or two, before making up his mind. They were in a town full of strangers, he had little idea of how to get to Rivendell, and as Strider had reminded him, they were still being hunted.

"I will trust you," Frodo said. "I do not think you are a servant of the enemy. I think an enemy would look fairer but seem fouler."

Strider grinned. "Meaning I look fair but feel foul. Very well then, Frodo Baggins. We must move at once. The enemy of which you speak has been alerted by your presence. You cannot stay here tonight."

Frodo nodded and looked at Merry and Pippin. Pippin looked relieved to hear that Frodo trusted this person, Merry still seemed unsure, and Sam was looking at Frodo with sad eyes, no longer relaxed as they had been in the parlor before Frodo's fall. Frodo turned his eyes away. *Oh Sam...* he thought with a pull in his heart. *If only I could have told you what I wanted to...*

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"Mr. Frodo, if there's somethin' botherin' you, then you just tell your Sam; he'll fix it straight away-" Sam started in a not-so-quiet whisper, glaring accusingly at Strider who paid no attention and continued to gaze out the window at the street outside. They had moved in a hurry, but they hadn't gone far, only across the street. Frodo suspected Strider could see the Prancing Pony from where he sat, for he had sat down in the chair and not moved since they arrived.

Frodo shook his head hurriedly and tried to make his head sink further into the stiff pillow. "It is nothing, Sam. I've just a headache; no doubt it shall be gone by morning..."

On the other side of the bed Merry grunted in his sleep and Frodo felt the bed shift as his cousin turned over.

"Oi!" Pippin exclaimed in his sleep then turned over as well; apparently Merry had kicked him in his movement. The change in position caused them all to become quite cramped on Frodo's side, and Frodo found that now Sam's side was pressed against his back. Sighing, Frodo turned back over onto his back, folded his hands across his chest and stared up at the darkness. As he did so, the Ring shifted in his pocket, something that the hobbit was acutely aware of. He shivered, and tried not to think of the great eye of fire that had burned before him when the Ring had slipped onto his finger (he had been so careless! So clumsy!) or the cloaked riders who Strider had said were seeking him even now. Sam, being very near to Frodo, noticed the shiver and misunderstood it.

"Are you cold, Mr. Frodo, sir?" He asked worriedly. "Those rascals, hogging the blanket like that-"

"No, Sam, I'm fine," Frodo said tensely, then closed his eyes determined to go to sleep. Suddenly, there was a crack outside and Frodo jumped a mile, as did Sam. Judging by the snores, Merry and Pippin hadn't heard it, however. As Frodo sat up, convinced that the black riders were feet away from their room window, Strider glanced at him unconcernedly and said simply "The door slamming at the tailor shop next door. I don't believe the seamstress is pleased with her husband."

Frodo let out a breath of relief and Sam looked at him, his eyes swimming with concern, before glaring daggers at the man by the window as if the slamming door had been his fault. Frodo returned to his previous position and closed his eyes again. Sam remained sitting up; Frodo had no doubt that his friend was entirely sure that if they all nodded off Strider would rob them blind, or worse.

The room remained quiet. Down the hall a floor board squeaked. Somewhere a dog barked. Pippin muttered something that sounded oddly like "flour" in his sleep. There was a light thud against the headboard and Frodo knew that Sam was leaning back, eyes still open but probably becoming overcome with tiredness. The Ring shifted in Frodo's pocket again.

Slowly, slowly, sleep took the Ring bearer.

It was so dark, so dark. He was in a tunnel, a great stone tunnel with a ceiling that stretched high above his head. They reminded him of the goblin-tunnels in Bilbo's stories, and he wondered if he would end up before the Goblin king just like Bilbo had. But wait, he didn't have an elvish sword, and Gandalf wasn't there-
There was a fiery light at one end of the tunnel. Frodo walked towards it; maybe it was daylight. It grew closer; the walls danced with the shadows the light cast now...closer....
It wasn't daylight. As Frodo walked though the tunnel's exit he was suddenly blinded by an eye, a great flaming eye staring down at him with malicious glee. With a cry Frodo stumbled back into the safety of the tunnel, but then he heard a cry that was not his own. Spinning around, Frodo saw that he was not in a tunnel at all anymore; he was back at Bag End in the garden, and by the gate was his dear Sam facing four wraiths, living shadows in the sunshine of the Shire.
Sam was refusing to let them in. Frodo felt the Ring burning against his chest, then looked down to see it giving of a bright light, a beacon to the ones hunting it. Quickly, the distressed hobbit tried to hide the light with his hands but the wraiths had already seen it. They tried to move past Sam, but the little gardener was indignant. He spread his arms and refused to budge.
There was a gleam of metal and then a hot splash across Frodo's face. Keeping one hand clasped over the glowing Ring he gingerly reached up to see what had splashed him. With a choked cry he looked at his hand: his fingers were covered in blood. With his stomach knotting up in rising horror, he looked back at Sam. His dear one stood, mouth gaping, hand clenched tightly in the fabric over his chest. Scarlet wept from between his fingers.
Tears spilled over Frodo's lashes and he with a cry of disbelief he tried to run to his Sam, but instead of getting closer the cloaked figures and Sam got farther away.

"No, no, take it!" Frodo woke, muttering to himself, though he had screamed the words in his dream. Blinking, he sat up in bed, looking around, disoriented. He was still in the inn, still in the large bed that he shared with three others. It was with a suppressed cry of joy that he saw Sam beside him, finally asleep, though still sitting up. His chest rose and fell rhythmically; he was perfectly alive.

The dream still burning in his mind, Frodo grasped Sam's hand, ran his fingertips over Sam's forehead, and muttered in praise "Thank the Valar."

Soft though Frodo had said the words, Sam stirred and opened his eyes, peering at Frodo with half-lidded eyes. He was still quite asleep, but noticed Frodo all the same.

"All right, Mr. Frodo?" he said thickly, his eye lids drooping.

Frodo smiled slightly and nodded, two tiny tears of relief escaping onto his cheekbones. Sam smiled stupidly and brushed them away with the back of his hand.

"Okay then...."he trailed off, very near to drifting back to sleep.

Frodo smiled fondly and bowed his head to kiss Sam on the forehead in good-night, but at the very last moment Sam looked up again and Frodo caught his lips instead.

It was only for the briefest of moments, but a jolt spiraled through Frodo's body, and the love inside him swelled. For the briefest moment he felt as if something long missing had returned to him, but then he pulled away and the feeling was lost. Sam was already back asleep, an odd smile on his face. Frodo sat perfectly still for a moment, his heart pounding and his lips still tingling with Sam's warmth. He glanced down at his hand. Sam had not released it.

Something shifted by the window and Frodo realized he had forgotten about Strider in the fear following his dream. Frodo slowly gazed over at the chair where the Ranger sat, a blush slowly creeping over his cheeks. Strider, however, gave no indication that he had witnessed anything.

"I...I had a nightmare...." Frodo said unnecessarily. Strider merely nodded and continued to look steadily out the window. Frodo suppressed a sigh and looked down at Sam's hand grasping his own. That dream could very well come true, Frodo knew. The knowledge of just how great of danger they were all in hung heavily in Frodo's head. How could he have agreed to let Sam come, and Merry and Pip too?! They were so naive; Frodo knew that the black riders had terrified his younger kind and friend at the time, but as soon as the threat was gone the three of them seemed to think them as nothing more than bad dreams. Frodo had admittedly felt the same way, but after seeing that Eye, that burning eye that seemed to look directly at him, piercing his flesh with its gaze...

Frodo glanced again at Strider. The man still did not remove his gaze from the window. "Have you seen anything?" Frodo asked suddenly. Strider's eyes flitted to him briefly and he shook his head before looking back out the window. Frodo noticed then, and for the first time, that despite the man's calm demeanor his hand gripped the hilt of the broken sword that lay hidden under his cloak.

Frodo thought suddenly of what could happen if Sam was right, if this man wasn't to be trusted, if he was a servant to the enemy, if he...if he was after the Ring!

Frodo's free hand sought his pocket and delved into it to grace the cool metal inside. Strider could take it from him easily, while they were all sleeping. And yet....

And yet Strider hadn't. And Gandalf had named him a friend, even if it had been in a letter. And the dark haired man had really done nothing to merit extreme suspicion...

Frodo forced his hand away from the Ring. His fingers had started to run over the smooth surface of it almost against his will and he did not want to risk another incident. Instead, he patted Sam's hand and then moved to help his friend lie down. Sam protested lightly in his sleep, but before long Frodo had gotten him lying down and he was asleep as soundly as Merry and Pippin. Hesitantly, Frodo took his hand away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Even if Strider was trust worthy, after that horrible nightmare Frodo was certain he would not sleep anymore that night.

Biting his thumbnail, he began to pace the floor. Would Sam (oh, his dear Sam) remember what had happened just a little while ago when he woke up? And if he did? It had been an accident....hadn't it? Yes, of course it had been...certainly....an accident....

Suddenly Strider moved, rising from his chair and stepping back from the window.

"What is it?" Frodo asked.

"They've come."

Frodo felt the color drain from his face. A long, wailing shriek tore through the air. Several more followed, accompanied by bangs and crashes from the inn across the way. Sam cried out and shot up in bed, his eyes darting around wildly. "Mr. Frodo!" he exclaimed upon seeing Frodo was not beside him, then relaxed when he saw his master standing on the other side of the room. Another shrill cry sounded, waking Merry and Pippin. Pippin shrank against the headboard of the large bed in terror; Merry put a comforting arm around his cousin and said aloud "What are they?"

Another scream.

"They were once Men, kings of Men," Strider said softly, looking at the frightened hobbits. "Then Sauron gave to them each a Ring of power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into shadow. They are the Nazgul, ring wraiths, neither living nor dead." Now his glance flickered over to Frodo. "They will never stop hunting you."

Another cry, this time followed by the wild neighing of many horses. Sam shuddered and Frodo walked back to the bed to sit by him.

"They're horrid, Mr. Frodo. Like something that's leapt out of a nightmare," Sam muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest in an oddly childlike manner. Frodo wanted to reach out and rub his back soothingly, but something stopped him. Something shifted in his pocket. Something sinister. Something tiny. Something laughed at him.

"Like something that' s leapt out of a nightmare..."

There was one last dying shriek and then the galloping of horses faded away. The Nazgul had gone....for the moment.

"They will never stop hunting you," said the laughing voice. "Or your friends."

"We will set out as soon as it is light," Strider said then. "We shall make for Rivendell."

"Rivendell." Frodo repeated softly to himself. Rivendell, that was right. To Rivendell to leave the Ring with the elves, then no further.

By the calm sea of the evening, we had lots of fun together

You, who are so warm to me, I saw your dream

Like this was our first love, our spirits were made to dance

Every time we passed by, we became so sweet with each other

As we shined together, as we laughed together, the seas changed

My love, that time we talked about the future

Ah, after it all, when I look back on it

Warm feelings are all I have

Ah, you are so radiant

Shine like that forever more

*************************************************************

~*: There are two "Lost Chapter" during this point, set during Tom Bombadil and The Barrow Downs. They'll be posted after the main story is finished, so all you Tom fans have no fear!

*: From LotR: FotR

Vanimelda: Fair-love

Song: I Saw Your Dream/From: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

Lyrics: Shiramine Mitsuko

A/N: Ha! First kiss!! Well, sort of. ::does dance and hands out sodas::

Next chapter: Don't ask me! Its already posted! Whee!