The dawn does break dimly and I uneasily escape from the darkness. My
eyelids flutter and I find myself in the warm arms of Sam, my face buried
in his chest. His breath is staggered and I can feel each shaky inhale and
exhale of the putrid air; he is awake, too. Upon my soul I do not wish to
leave and I close my eyes quickly in defense, but it's inevitable. We're
moving on whether I'm able or no. Gently he releases me and slowly gets to
his feet, muttering to himself as usual. Eyes clenched, I lay in wait of
what is to come next; he touches my arm, shaking all chances of further
slumber. I groan and force myself into a sitting position, then almost to
standing - but my legs cannot hold me and I collapse to my knees. Curse it
all. Curse this ring, curse that mountain; curse that I ever existed. What
am I supposed to do now? Sam has brought me too far to quit . . . and it
all mocks me. Everything hurts; everything is weak; I can not walk for the
life of me. There is no logic in my mind any longer, just the idea of
getting onto that bloody mountain. I bite my lip and begin to crawl
clumsily, elbows bending in odd positions as I move. Sam does not follow
after me, but I don't care. If he decides to let me go, all the better, and
further guilt is not placed upon my heart. Instead, he reaches out for me,
coming to my aid once again.
"Come Mr. Frodo. I can't carry It for you, but I can carry you and It as well. So up you get. Come Mr. Frodo dear.."
The rest of his words fade out again and I watch as his mouth moves blankly. His eyes are sad as he takes me and places me on his back, and like a helpless child I comply, my legs wrapping about his waist. We start off, but everything is hazy, and the battle of the ring starts up inside me again. With my arms dangling over Sam's shoulders, I dare not reach for the ring now..
. . . We've stopped moving. I open my eyes to find that we're higher up on the slope than before, but the dank brown land still hovers far too close below.
::How long has he been carrying me?::
The air is comparably better to the stenches and fumes that lurked back down there, and I inhale hungrily. Carefully Sam lays me down upon the ungrateful earth, and I make a resolve to say something, anything. Sam has been too good to me to deny him at least part of my gratitude.
"Thank you, Sam." My voice cracks from disuse and lack of water. "How far is there to go?"
He sighs and looks farther up the mountain, "I don't know . . . because . . . I don't know where we're going."
He shakes his curls hopelessly. What *are* we going to do? Before this, I had just concentrated on getting to Mount Doom itself, and figured we'd decide what to do if we got there. But we're here, so now what shall we do? Even now the ring grows heavy upon my breast..
::Can I possibly stand a few more hours being lost on a mountain?::
I doubt it greatly.
::Maybe this is a sign.maybe the whole journey was just to show me
that I, Frodo, need the ring? Maybe it's for the best that we never
get to the fires themselves . . . Just perhaps---::
"Why, it might have been put there a-purpose! If it wasn't, I'd have to say I was beaten in the end."
My thoughts are shattered by Sam's outburst to himself, and all my previous concepts smothered. This is all he says before he lays flat beside me, looking pained. I am too tired now to be intrigued any longer and decide to simply enjoy the slight rest we're having together. I glance in his direction. His eyes are closed and his brow is damp with perspiration, but there I can see determination of the strongest kind. There is little peace there, however; none of the blissful hobbit he used to be remains visible. It strains my heart to think of my Sam without a witty remark, without a pleasant smile on his round face. It also makes me realize . . . just how much I love him. And I do. He maybe a simple gardener, but no gardener has been such a loyal, worthy companion and friend than Samwise Gamgee. And Bilbo, bless his soul, would be more than happy to write a book about him, I do believe.
But my mind and body is weary. The Ring is calling. Sleep will not come. A strange feeling of urgency is in the air, as if I don't do what I was called to do soon, it will all be for naught.
::Now, now, or it will be too late!::
Sam has felt it too . . . he sits up suddenly, as if called from a dream. He braces himself and stands, shaking off the ache that must linger in his back from his long hours of lugging. I can do no more than get to my knees.
"I'll crawl, Sam," I gasp harshly. The moment my body moves forward, everything inside me seems to crunch and crumble, like a long-dead ember, as the Ring pulls me angrily towards its master. Sam leads me to the path he had exclaimed about earlier and I am glad to see it. Like insects we must look, creeping along in the ashes and dust, but I'd rather be here, closer to the ground than up where He can see us. And I know He is looking for me. Slowly I turn and face him in his Eastern realm, as if something draws me to him, just to make sure . . . .
But, where the clouds were a minute ago, they are no longer! Oh Barad-dûr! Most evil of places . . . and the Eye . . . it is there, it calls to me! It calls! Without warning, my knees give out and I tumble to the ground, calling out in my mind for Sam, but he can not hear me! My hand twitches as I fight it away from the chain --- at last the words break from my tongue, barely above a whisper,
"Help me, Sam! Help me, Sam! Hold my hand! I can't stop it!"
How close I am to putting on the Ring and vanishing forever! It has all its mind set on taking me, but I will not be taken! And Sam, good Sam comes to me in an instant and draws my hand down quietly. He captures my quaking palms and sets them together, kissing them soothingly and then gathering them into his own warm grasp. He looks at me for an instant or two, as if hit by a thought, and pulls me onto his back again, pulling my hands to his chest and letting my feet dangle. It is not an easy path to climb, but I can't imagine what it is like carrying the burden of another. My scar has begun to throb as we draw nearer to the place the weapon who made it itself was wrought. I bite my lip until I can taste the metallic flavour of blood spilling into my mouth, but the pain will not ease! From the corner of my eye I see something tumbling, a piece of stone perhaps, from the cleft above us, but something is queer about it, though I can't place my finger on it.
* click *
~ To be Continued at some point or another. Maybe. Buwahahaha! It's so depressing. And you could just read the book if you really cared, right? Sure you could - don't give me that look!
~ And for my two wonderful reviewers, you are the love of my life! I'm new at the formatting, so you'll have to forgive me. Once I figure out how all this works, I'll be nice and tidy and easy to read!
* click*
"Come Mr. Frodo. I can't carry It for you, but I can carry you and It as well. So up you get. Come Mr. Frodo dear.."
The rest of his words fade out again and I watch as his mouth moves blankly. His eyes are sad as he takes me and places me on his back, and like a helpless child I comply, my legs wrapping about his waist. We start off, but everything is hazy, and the battle of the ring starts up inside me again. With my arms dangling over Sam's shoulders, I dare not reach for the ring now..
. . . We've stopped moving. I open my eyes to find that we're higher up on the slope than before, but the dank brown land still hovers far too close below.
::How long has he been carrying me?::
The air is comparably better to the stenches and fumes that lurked back down there, and I inhale hungrily. Carefully Sam lays me down upon the ungrateful earth, and I make a resolve to say something, anything. Sam has been too good to me to deny him at least part of my gratitude.
"Thank you, Sam." My voice cracks from disuse and lack of water. "How far is there to go?"
He sighs and looks farther up the mountain, "I don't know . . . because . . . I don't know where we're going."
He shakes his curls hopelessly. What *are* we going to do? Before this, I had just concentrated on getting to Mount Doom itself, and figured we'd decide what to do if we got there. But we're here, so now what shall we do? Even now the ring grows heavy upon my breast..
::Can I possibly stand a few more hours being lost on a mountain?::
I doubt it greatly.
::Maybe this is a sign.maybe the whole journey was just to show me
that I, Frodo, need the ring? Maybe it's for the best that we never
get to the fires themselves . . . Just perhaps---::
"Why, it might have been put there a-purpose! If it wasn't, I'd have to say I was beaten in the end."
My thoughts are shattered by Sam's outburst to himself, and all my previous concepts smothered. This is all he says before he lays flat beside me, looking pained. I am too tired now to be intrigued any longer and decide to simply enjoy the slight rest we're having together. I glance in his direction. His eyes are closed and his brow is damp with perspiration, but there I can see determination of the strongest kind. There is little peace there, however; none of the blissful hobbit he used to be remains visible. It strains my heart to think of my Sam without a witty remark, without a pleasant smile on his round face. It also makes me realize . . . just how much I love him. And I do. He maybe a simple gardener, but no gardener has been such a loyal, worthy companion and friend than Samwise Gamgee. And Bilbo, bless his soul, would be more than happy to write a book about him, I do believe.
But my mind and body is weary. The Ring is calling. Sleep will not come. A strange feeling of urgency is in the air, as if I don't do what I was called to do soon, it will all be for naught.
::Now, now, or it will be too late!::
Sam has felt it too . . . he sits up suddenly, as if called from a dream. He braces himself and stands, shaking off the ache that must linger in his back from his long hours of lugging. I can do no more than get to my knees.
"I'll crawl, Sam," I gasp harshly. The moment my body moves forward, everything inside me seems to crunch and crumble, like a long-dead ember, as the Ring pulls me angrily towards its master. Sam leads me to the path he had exclaimed about earlier and I am glad to see it. Like insects we must look, creeping along in the ashes and dust, but I'd rather be here, closer to the ground than up where He can see us. And I know He is looking for me. Slowly I turn and face him in his Eastern realm, as if something draws me to him, just to make sure . . . .
But, where the clouds were a minute ago, they are no longer! Oh Barad-dûr! Most evil of places . . . and the Eye . . . it is there, it calls to me! It calls! Without warning, my knees give out and I tumble to the ground, calling out in my mind for Sam, but he can not hear me! My hand twitches as I fight it away from the chain --- at last the words break from my tongue, barely above a whisper,
"Help me, Sam! Help me, Sam! Hold my hand! I can't stop it!"
How close I am to putting on the Ring and vanishing forever! It has all its mind set on taking me, but I will not be taken! And Sam, good Sam comes to me in an instant and draws my hand down quietly. He captures my quaking palms and sets them together, kissing them soothingly and then gathering them into his own warm grasp. He looks at me for an instant or two, as if hit by a thought, and pulls me onto his back again, pulling my hands to his chest and letting my feet dangle. It is not an easy path to climb, but I can't imagine what it is like carrying the burden of another. My scar has begun to throb as we draw nearer to the place the weapon who made it itself was wrought. I bite my lip until I can taste the metallic flavour of blood spilling into my mouth, but the pain will not ease! From the corner of my eye I see something tumbling, a piece of stone perhaps, from the cleft above us, but something is queer about it, though I can't place my finger on it.
* click *
~ To be Continued at some point or another. Maybe. Buwahahaha! It's so depressing. And you could just read the book if you really cared, right? Sure you could - don't give me that look!
~ And for my two wonderful reviewers, you are the love of my life! I'm new at the formatting, so you'll have to forgive me. Once I figure out how all this works, I'll be nice and tidy and easy to read!
* click*