The Adventures of Samwise Gamgee
By camilliatook

AN-This was written for Marigold's first story challenge. My thanks to Marigold for the idea and checking for errors.

Disclaimer-I don't own the hobbits. I don't own anything in Middle-Earth. I own a cat, that's it.

Sighing, Sam dragged himself out of the Lórien boat and thanked the Valar above that they thought to make firm ground. Glancing around at the place Strider said was to be camp for the night, Sam sighed again, this time in remorse for the nights sleep he wouldn't be likely to get this night. The ground was damp and soggy. Sam normally wouldn't have noticed the uncomfortable conditions, or at least he wouldn't complain, but with Mr. Frodo to take care of, Sam felt it was his duty to make his master as comfortable and warm as possible. Sam knew that he would wake up many times to check on Mr. Frodo. With the Ring and all, Mr. Frodo didn't need a cold to add to his troubles.

Setting up camp, Sam scouted the outside of the camp, with Mr. Strider's permission of course, gathering dry firewood in order to build a fire to cook a few provisions that the kindly Elves of Lothlórien were thoughtful enough to give Sam. He smiled at the thought. The Elves that ran the kitchen knew quite well what it took to feed hobbits and no amount of lembas could satisfy the enormous cravings and appetites of the Little Ones, as the Elves called the four.

Sorting the food, Sam became aware of two pairs of eyes watching his every move. Green-gold and blue-grey looked on hopefully as Sam brought out goody upon goody, at least in Merry and Pippin's mind. The gardener from the Shire brought out potatoes and other lovely items to make a fine stew with. Frowning slightly at the two hobbits, Sam looked around for his master. The frown deepened into a scowl as he spied Frodo curled up on his blanket, sleeping fitfully. Poor Frodo never had a restful night sleep anymore. His dreams were disturbed by evil images; the Ring wouldn't let him rest peacefully. Putting aside what he was doing, Sam stood and walked quietly as only hobbits can to the Ring-bearer.

Gazing down at his long time friend, Sam felt tears well up in his eyes. Frodo had always been pale, but now it was as if he was fading way into nothingness. As Sam watched, the over burdened hobbit on the ground before him moaned, moving his head side to side, in the grips of a nightmare.

"Gandalf," Frodo murmured, turning onto his side. Sam knelt and laid a hand onto Frodo's right shoulder.

"Hush Mister Frodo, your Sam'll take care of you. Nothing will get you while I still draw breath or my name ain't Sam Gamgee!" He vowed quietly to himself as Frodo settled down with a small sigh.

Alerted by the deliberate footfall, Sam raised watery chocolate brown eyes to those of Legolas. Gracefully the Elf knelt down and spoke in his calm, soothing Elven voice.

"Go, my friend, before the others decide that they have waited long enough and start supper themselves," Legolas said with a smile, nodding towards Merry and Pippin who indeed were attempting to light the wood.

"Oi!" At Sam's shout, Pippin's auburn head shot up but Merry's darker one raised slower, with more restraint. Seeing the protest coming, Merry held up a hand to ward off Sam's next sentence.

"We're getting supper ready. You do all the work every night. Pippin and I feel you deserve to relax tonight," Merry said with determined tone. "Or relax as much as you're able to, considering the fact that you worry over everything."

"We're giving you a night off, silly," Came Pippin's voice, sounding amused at Sam's obvious reluctance. Sam glanced back at Merry, still undecided.

"Look after Frodo. That's where you're needed at this moment." He said this with a soft smile, looking past Sam before turning back to what he was doing.

Turning, Sam met the clear, morning glory eyes that sparkled with amusement. "Give it up Sam. When those two decide to do something, they won't take no for an answer," Frodo said with quiet laughter.

"All right Mr. Frodo, if you say so," Sam replied with doubt still evident in his voice. "Just remember when they decided to cook for us last time? I don't think even orcs would've ate that stuff. Beggin' your pardon, sirs," He said quickly, with a glance towards Merry and Pippin, who had stopped fighting with the firewood, long enough to glare at him.

"It was horrible, wasn't it Sam? I can't remember ever seeing food look that bad before," Frodo laughed.

"Or that appalling of smell," Legolas put in with a deceivingly straight face, ignoring the glower that the two youngest hobbits were unquestionably shooting his way. It was refreshing to see the young Ring-bearer smile and laugh with the other Halflings.

"He's fifty, you know," said a soft voice at his side. Legolas, though startled (for he had not heard the Man approach) lifted his head slowly, with the smooth movement all Elves are born with.

"Excuse me?" Legolas said. He had not been aware that he had spoken out loud until the ranger had said something.

Aragorn smiled. "He's actually fifty years old. How is it you did not know, my friend?" He said, the twinkle in his eyes belying the insult behind the question.

"I spoke of his age as one of my race would any other. Including you, Dunadan," Legolas said with a mocking glare. Aragorn knew that the woodland Elf meant no offence. They had traveled many miles through many dangers together, so the heir to the Kings of Men and the Prince of the Mirkwood Elves shared a friendship forged in the heat of battle, shared in the pain of losing a friend in Moria and the mutual respect of one warrior to another.

"All the same, you acted surprised."

"Only at the fact that you were able to walk up behind me without my knowledge," came the slightly miffed reply. Chuckling slightly, Aragorn relaxed and leaned against a tree, watching the antics of the hobbits. "No, Pippin. You must arrange the wood this way, so that the twigs catch first," Merry said, breaking the silence that had settled over the glade. The two hobbits were still fighting with the firewood, trying, unsuccessfully to light the fire. Finally Sam could stand it no longer.

"Let me help, Mr. Pippin," he said to the distressed tween. Gently moving Pippin aside, Sam, in quick effortless movements, showed Merry and Pippin the most effective way to light a campfire. "Where'd he learn to light a fire like that," Gimli wondered out loud, asking the question that all non- hobbit members of the fellowship wondered at. Almost from the first, Sam had taken over campfire duty, building an expert fire almost immediately.

"Bilbo taught both of us when we were younger. He took us camping that one time, remember Sam? We went all the way to Green Hill County. " Frodo replied. He smiled at the memories. "Uncle Bilbo said that he was taught by Gandalf, on his great adventure."

At the mention of Gandalf, an uncomfortable silence filled the camp. For many the pain was still too near. Some had considered the Grey Pilgrim a friend for many years and others had heard tales of the wizard since they were children, and others still grew to love him in the short time they knew him as the leader of the Fellowship. Reaching over, Sam grasped Frodo's hand in his own. Smiling gratefully over at Sam, Frodo discreetly wiped his misty eyes, while unknown to him, many of the others also had to blink away tears at the mention of their dear friend.

"Mr. Pippin, why don't you give us a song? We haven' had a song since Lórien," Sam said, breaking through the uncomfortable silence. Merry and Pippin exchanged a glance and as one, turned towards Frodo. Their cousin was leaning against Sam, with his eyes closed. Most would assume he was asleep but his two cousins knew that he was fighting the temptation of slumber. Getting the point, Pippin began a slow song that flowed like a stream through the Shire on a warm summer afternoon.

The sun, the stars, the rivers blue

The sky, the air, the moon so true

In the Shire, you see these sights

No need of war, no reasons to fight

Hills so green and full of cheer

Ponds of water, clearest of clear

Families go to market today

"Mum, buy me this!" the little lads say

But perhaps the best of all around

Are the hobbit families all safe and sound

As the last strands of music floated away on the slight breeze, Pippin glanced around. Merry was gazing at the river, deep in thought. Pippin knew what his cousin was thinking. He missed the Shire. They all did. Moving over towards Merry, Pippin sighed as his cousin pulled him close with a smile. Continuing his scrutiny, the young Took's eyes fell upon Frodo and Sam. He smiled as he beheld the scene before him. Frodo lay relaxed in Sam's gentle, yet strong embrace. He was asleep, finally.

"That was beautiful, Pippin," Aragorn said softly. Pippin's eyes swung towards Strider. For a few minutes he had managed to forget who he was with, so involved in the music and his cousins as he had been.

"Where'd you learn it?" Boromir asked, enjoying the blush that stained the young one's face. They all knew Pippin well enough to know that when he wanted to be, he could be quite clever. Pippin, however, preferred to not let on to that little fact.

"Careful Pippin-lad. If you do much showing off, it'll be that much harder to convince them that you're only a Took. Now, if you were a Brandybuck, they would expect you to be clever. But as I said, you are what you are," Merry teased his younger cousin, knowing Pippin's thoughts and feelings almost as well as his own.

"If that's the case dear cousin, then why was I the one to sing the song and not you?" Pippin teased back, overcoming his discomfort long enough to give his cousin a hard time.

"That's right Mr. Merry. Besides, aren't you part Took?" Sam asked with a grin.

"What ever happened to the nice, quiet Sam Gamgee we knew in the Shire?" Merry grumbled good-naturedly.

"He went on an adventure," Sam replied. "Now, both of you - up. We'll be needing more wood to keep the fire going tonight. It's a bit soggy this close to the river and we don't need Mr. Frodo catching a cold on top of everything else."

Chapter 2

As Merry and Pippin got up, Sam gently lay Frodo down on his blankets, the ones closest to the fire, and covered him up. As he stood there staring at his master, he slowly perceived that minutes had gone by and that there was an argument going on. 'Now what could those big folk be arguing about?' Sam asked himself. Glancing around, he saw the two Men standing on the outskirts of the camp, arguing in hushed but fierce tones.

Sam shook his head. 'Figures it'd be those two. They fight worse than Mr. Legolas and Mr. Gimli these days. And where are Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin? They've been gone longer than need be. They only went out to get wood. My guess is that they've been distracted by a pretty bird or interesting tree, knowing those two as I do,' Sam thought to himself. Glancing around camp yet again, Sam decided to go after the two rascals himself, instead of bothering the two Men, the sleeping dwarf or Legolas, wherever he went off to. Searching for the Elf, Sam spied him in a tree watching the camp.

"Mr. Legolas?" Sam whispered, knowing that the Elf's superior hearing would allow Legolas to hear him.

"Yes, Sam?" he replied, jumping out of the tree gracefully.

"Could you watch out for Mr. Frodo?" he stuttered, uncomfortable with asking the elegant Elf for a favor. "I've sent Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin off to get more firewood about half hour ago and they have yet to return," Sam explained in a hurry, uneasy with those light, unblinking eyes watching him steadily.

"It would be my honor," came the gentle reply.

"Thank you sir." Sam said, relieved. He knew Mr. Frodo would be in good hands if left to Mr. Legolas.

"Would you like me to go, while you stay with Frodo?"

"No, they probably saw an interesting rock or something, if you get my meaning sir," Sam said with a chuckle, forgetting his awkwardness for a moment. Legolas also smiled, as he knew well enough what the two hobbits were capable of.

"Just don't go too far and be back in a few minutes. There are still dangers to be found," Legolas warned.

"I will sir," Sam said as he covered Frodo up more securely. Standing, he let his gaze wonder over his friend. Noticing for the second time that evening how pale Frodo was, how thin he'd become, Sam resolved to change that, no matter what the cost. Heading into the woods, Sam walked in the direction that he assumed Merry and Pippin would have taken. Passing tree and undergrowth, Sam stumbled into a clearing a few minutes from camp. Quickly scanning the glade, it soon became obvious that Merry and Pippin hadn't been there. The patch of mushrooms was testament to that.

Hearing a growl, Sam froze, hoping it was just his over-active imagination conjuring the terrifying sound out of a simple, safe noise. When it came again, he knew it was no mistake. Turning slowly, the hobbit's eyes got as wide as a hobbit lad's as his first half-pint is set in front of him. The wolf was a coarse grey, with narrowed yellow eyes that were focused on his next meal.

Sam backed away slowly, his mind racing. 'Oh, what am I going to do? I can't out run him and I can't fight him. Oh, if my Gaffer could see me now. He'd have a thing or two to say about this, he would. "Reaching for the sky again, weren't ya, Sam-lad? Elves and such aren't for you. Leave that for your betters who have the time to dream." That's what he'd say. Then he'd....' Sam's thought process trailed off, as what his Gaffer would say registered in his head. "Reaching for the sky..." He muttered to himself. Keeping the movement at a minimal, he swiftly glanced around and spotting what he was looking for, Sam slowly started edging that way.

As he moved back, the wolf moved with him. Just when he was sure he would never make it, Sam backed up against the tree he had spotted. It was the only tree with a branch low enough for him to climb up into. Reaching his arms up, Sam tried to grasp the branch but to his horror, it was still too far overhead. He would have to jump to get it and he knew that if he made any sudden movements, the wolf would lunge. Bringing his focus back to the wolf, Sam's eyes widen as all the color drained from his face.

As wolf leaned back on his powerful haunches, Sam closed his eyes. He never saw it coming...

Chapter 3

Thump.

Sam cried out as he felt the wolf leap past him with a growl, crashing through the dense bushes to the right of the tree. Shaken, Sam stared in confusion in the direction of the fleeing wolf. He had thought for sure the wolf would attack.

"Now why did it do that?" Sam wondered out loud. Looking around, he spied an arrow quivering in the ground, a few inches from where the wolf had been. He turned, ready to thank Legolas for his timely arrival when he realized something was wrong. Dead wrong. The arrow was black, with bits of red, and hardly worthy enough to be called an arrow. Hearing movement in the bushes, he turned and scampered up into the tree. Whatever had an arrow like that couldn't be on the side of good.

Watching the bushes warily, Sam wished that he had taken Legolas up on the offer to find those two rascals. Merry and Pippin! In his concern for his own safety, he had forgotten those two! 'Oh I hope they're all right. Mr. Frodo will be crushed if anything happens to those two,' Just thinking about any hurt to Merry and Pippin caused Sam to shudder. They were the reason the war was being fought. To secure the innocence that runs deep through both of them, Pippin more so than Merry. Merry, as the older of the two had seen more and as protective as Sam knew Merry was of the lad, he knew Merry wouldn't let anything bad befall the young Took. Sam smiled softly. Almost like Sam was with his Mr. Frodo.

Shuddering bushes interrupted his thoughs and as Sam watched with wide eyes, two orcs came into the clearing.

"Ha. The fuggin' thing ran like the coward it is. Sneak into our camp an' steal our food again and I won't miss!" An orc with an open gash on its scarred face said, with what could pass as an orcish sneer.

The other orc, the one sporting the bow, nodded his head in agreement. "Aye, tryin' to steal my sup is a death wish for sure! Shaglakh, go check the area near the river. The Boss seems to think that the Shire-rats could be about."

"Yeah. I could do with some entertainment," Shaglakh said with an evil smirk.

"The Boss said if we find 'em they're not to be played with, got it?"

"Who died and left you in charge, huh Bâshdug?" Exclaimed Shaglakh with a challenge evident in his voice.

"Ghazbag remember? I offed him last week," laughed Bâshdug crudely.

'Orcs! I should have known. Scouts by the looks of them. Filthy things! The camp! They know we're about and they're heading for camp. I can't let them near Mr. Frodo. How am I going to distract 'em?' So with the safety of the Fellowship in mind, Sam gave a mock sneeze just loud enough for them to hear.

"What was 'hat? It come from o'er there," Shaglakh said, eying the direction the sound had came from.

As the two orcs stalked towards where he sat in the tree, Sam gave himself an encouraging speech and gathered up his courage. 'All right Sam-lad. If those orcs find out that the Fellowship is about, they'll run back to their masters faster than Mr. Pippin can eat a berry tart fresh out of the oven. You know what you got to do. You've got to protect Mr. Frodo. That's the only worth you've got in you.' Gathering the last of his courage, Sam jumped out of the tree, falling to his back as he tried to land. Immediately the two orcs jumped and grabbed Sam by the arms, restraining him.

"What do we 'ave here? A Shire-rat literally fell into our hands," Bâshdug exclaimed excitedly. "The Boss will have use for you."

Sam wretched his arms away from the beastly claws and scrambled back, trying in spite of his original plan to get away. It was only natural for the peaceful hobbit to try to get away from terrifying orcs.

"Ah, where do you think you're going? You ain't going nowhere except to Isengard. The Boss is lookin' for you," Bâshdug said as Shaglakh grabbed some bowstring from sack they carried. Jerking the hobbits arms back with more force than necessary, Shaglakh laughed cruelly as Sam cried out in pain.

"Aw, did that hurt? Terribly sorry," Shaglakh said, accompanied by more evil laughter.

"Come on, let's get him back to the others," Bâshdug said.

"What if there are more of them about?" Shaglakh wondered, showing more intelligence than most orcs.

Sam paled even more at this statement. He had to do something, anything to get them off that thought, and fast. Getting to his knees quickly and quietly was quite a feat for one who had his arms tied, but Sam was acting out of love and the Valar must have been watching out for him. Thankfully the two orcs were too busy discussing the rewards they would get for returning with a few Shire-rats. Alerted by a twig snapping under Sam's feet, the orcs whirled around to stare as Sam took off running through the bushes that ringed the clearing. Sharing a malicious smirk, they gave chase after the fleeing hobbit.

Darting through the brush away from the clearing, Sam ignored the stinging slaps of limbs on his face. Aware only of the heavy footfalls slowly gaining on him, Sam sped up, desperate to lead them away from camp.

Dodging a tree, Sam spared a glance behind him to see Shaglakh and Bâshdug just a few feet behind him. Too late, Sam turned back towards the direction he was running and so he never took any notice of the large oak that suddenly loomed out of the darkness.

Once again Sam found himself on the ground with two hideous orcs towering over him. Grunting in pain, Sam looked up at the two beings smiling heartless at him. There was no need for words as Bâshdug reached down and grabbed Sam by his arms and swung him over his shoulder like a piece of baggage and headed off back towards the clearing. When Sam realized which way they were heading, he began to fight. Kicking his legs and hitting at anything he could.

When it was obvious that Bâshdug wasn't going to stop for anything, he considered giving up, but then he was reminded of Frodo, and he knew he couldn't just quit. Turning his head to the side, Sam was able to see well enough in the growing darkness to aim a rather well placed kick at Shaglakh who ran behind then.

"Urh, that's it! I've had enough of this rat. Let me see him, I promise I'll not kill 'im," the orc growled. Upon entering the clearing again, Bâshdug threw Sam to the ground, knocking the wind out of the poor hobbit. Looking up and wondering what they were planning, Sam cringed as he saw the hand fall, feeling the power behind that fist. Crying out as he felt his lip split, Sam realized almost immediately his mistake. He might have alerted Legolas by crying out like that. It never occurred to Sam that the Fellowship could deal with two petty orcs. The advantage would be with the Fellowship. They had the skilled warriors. But Sam wasn't thinking with his head; he was thinking with his heart.

Yet again the hand raised and fell, accompanied by many kicks aimed towards the hobbit's mid-section. Gasping in pain, Sam curled up in a ball, trying to block out the pain. All of a sudden, the blows ceased to rain down on poor Samwise. Opening his eyes, he shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Hearing the sounds of a skirmish, Sam looked up and was shocked by what he saw. Meriadoc Brandybuck was trying to fight off the two orcs. By himself!

Sam knew he couldn't let those two touch the gentlehobbit. Gaining his feet, he found some nice sized stones, about the size of his curled up fist, and threw them with stunning accuracy and strength for one who had his hands tied together with bowstring. He hit Shaglakh in the head, knocking him to his knees. This allowed Merry to finish him off. That left only Bâshdug to deal with. Seeing his companion killed by the two Shire-rats, Bâshdug turned and started for Sam. In an act of cowardliness, he planned to go after the weak one. Laughing foully as the other rat jumped in front of him, Bâshdug made as if to merely push him aside but he quickly pulled his hand back, howling in pain and enragement as Merry swiped at him with his sword. Angered, but not mortally wounded, he came at them again, this time intent on getting to his prey. Abruptly stopping, the orcs eyes got wide as he slowly fell forward. Jumping aside in order to avoid the falling orc, the two hobbits looked in shock of the beautiful knife that stuck out of the creatures back. Turning wide eyes towards the other end of the clearing, relief spread through them as Legolas slowly lowered his throwing arm.

Hearing a commotion in the bushes to the far right of him, Legolas whirled around, the twin dagger to that of the one sticking out of the back of the orc, appearing as if by magic in his hands.

'Well this is it,' Sam thought. 'That will be the rest of the orc company for sure. Well, I won't go down without a fight.' Merry also had thoughts along this line, 'I've got to fight and what a fight it will be.'

With a sudden sigh of exasperation, Legolas sheathed the ivory handled dagger. Passing a wondering look between them, Sam and Merry slowly relaxed, as Legolas' stance told them that this was no new danger.

"Is there a problem Boromir?" The Elf asked in an amused voice.

The bushes shook madly and it was then that the hobbits became aware of muttering, human muttering. The grumbling continued, as the new sound of a sword being drawn filled the clearing. When he finally emerged, the human had leaves and twigs in his hair and a very red face.

"Hey Boromir! Did you win?" Merry asked sweetly, falling into gales of laughter when Boromir turned his scowl on the young hobbit.

"How do you do that? No matter where you walk you encounter no patches of prickers. Wherever I walk there's a colony of them," the exasperated Boromir questioned the Elf, much to the amusement of the hobbit leaning against a tree with tears of mirth rolling down his face.

"You must learn to read the forest my friend. The animals know the way, as do the trees, if you would but listen," replied the ever-calm Elf, with a serene voice. Boromir glanced at him quickly, unsure of the Woodland Elf. His voice had seemed a little too serene. Deciding to ignore that comment, he quickly strode over to Sam to see if there was any life threatening damage. Thankfully, Sam proved to be one lucky hobbit, which had only sustained cuts and bruises during his brief captivity.

"Come, let's get you back to camp. Aragorn will want to clean out these cuts and put some ointment on your bruises," Boromir said, cutting Sam's bonds with his dagger, wincing as he viewed the cut wrists.

"I'm all right, Sir," Sam muttered, pulling his hands away from Legolas' inspection, unused to this sort of treatment. His Gaffer would have just told him to get back to the gardens and stop whining.

"Samwise Gamgee! I know for a fact that Frodo would call you on that lie," Merry exclaimed, looking aghast that Sam would ignore his hurts.

Knowing that he was right, Sam kept quiet and allowed Merry to lead him back in the direction of camp. They walked in silence for a few moments before Sam became aware of the fact that Legolas and Boromir weren't following. When he pulled Merry to a stop, the other hobbit turned with a clear question in his grey eyes.

"Where have Mr. Legolas and Mr. Boromir got off to?" Sam asked his companion.

"Most likely they went to look for more orcs," Merry answered after a moments pause. Pulling on Sam's arm, Merry hastened his steps, they were close to the camp and he was anxious to have Sam looked at. As they entered the camp, with obvious reluctance on Sam's part to have a fuss made over him, Frodo and Pippin ran over, with Aragorn a few steps behind them.

"Sam! What happened? Are you all right? Sit here. Pippin do stop hovering, go get some water heated. Merry go help him. Aragorn! Sam's hurt!" Came the fire of questions and commands from Frodo, who reverted back into his older cousin mentality without any thought. Moving aside to let the ever-prepared Aragorn near, Frodo knelt down by Sam's head as Aragorn told the injured hobbit to lie back.

"What happened?" Aragorn questioned quietly while he worked. As Sam told of his misadventures, he slowly came to realize that worried faces surrounded him. Frodo was holding his head in his lap, stroking Sam's curls off of his face, while Merry and Pippin were on his left, opposite Strider. Legolas and Boromir were also in camp, having come back from their orc-hunting trek. Gimli, Sam could tell by his snores, was still sleeping somewhere across camp.

"Well, you'll be sore for the next few days, but I think you'll live, Master Gamgee," Aragorn informed him with a smile. Giving Sam some tea made from Pippin's hot water, Aragorn ordered the tired gardener to rest. When the man had left to go talk to Boromir and Legolas, Frodo ushered the two younger hobbits to their own bedrolls, then continued to sit with Sam.

"Are you truly all right, Sam?" Frodo asked, pale with the thought of what Sam had been through. Sam looked up, and seeing the tears in Frodo's eyes, tried to sit up. When that failed due to Frodo pushing him back down, Sam sighed.

"Of course I'm all right, Mr. Frodo. It'll take more than this to get rid of your Sam," he exclaimed.

" 'Your Sam,' " Frodo repeated quietly, almost to himself. "I heard you, you know."

"What's that Sir?" Sam asked, confused.

"Earlier, you said 'your Sam'll take care of you. Nothing will get you while I still draw breath or my name ain't Sam Gamgee.' I heard you."

"Oh, well, that was just me talking, if you follow me," muttered a red faced Sam.

"You meant it though, didn't you?" Frodo asked, staring intently at Sam. Sam shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, Sir, I reckon I did, at that," Sam said, raising his chin with determination. He'd meant what he'd said, or else he wouldn't have said it. Sam Gamgee didn't make false promises.

"Thank you Sam," Frodo murmured in a quiet, thoughtful tone. As much as Sam would have liked to think on this, the tea Aragorn had given his was doing its job.
His last thought upon retreating into a welcomed sleep was one that he had though many times over the course of the Quest and one that he would find would help him in the final legs of his journey. 'I made a promise to Mr. Gandalf. And I mean to keep it.'

Chapter 4

The smell of mushrooms awoke Sam the next morning. Opening his eyes, he quickly closed them again, sure that he was dreaming.

"Come on Sam! It's time to go. We let you sleep as long as possible. You can sleep more in the boat, if you'd like," came Frodo's voice. Sam peered out of half opened eyelids. No, he hadn't been dreaming. Frodo was sitting next to him, a mischievous smile on his face, waving a mushroom under Sam's nose.

"Hullo, Mr. Frodo," Sam muttered, grabbing at the mushroom. Letting him have it, Frodo took this time to take stock of Sam's injuries in the sunlight. His face was bruised and he had an ugly, painful looking cut on his lip, but other than that he looked wonderful. He looked alive. When Frodo had woken up the night before to find Sam and Merry missing, he'd been frantic. When Pip had explained that Sam had gone off to look for him and Merry and that Merry had then gone off to look for Sam when they had come back and found him missing, Frodo went right over to where the two men still argued. After being informed of this new development, Aragorn decided to send Boromir and Legolas to go find the two missing hobbits.

Then when Merry came back leading an injured Sam, Frodo had felt his heart stop. Sam, his Sam, was hurt. Automatically issuing orders, Frodo had hidden his fear behind the commands, needing to do something, anything, to help his friend. He had eventually settled for just being there, brushing the curls off Sam's face.
"Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo started, giving Sam a sheepish smile. "Sorry Sam. I was thinking."
As Sam got slowly to his feet, he asked Frodo a very important question. "Mr. Frodo, pardon my asking and all but where'd you get that mushroom?"
Soft laughter came from behind them. Turning, they saw Legolas with their bags already packed standing behind them. "That would be my doing, Sam. I noticed the mushrooms in the clearing yesterday and knowing your love for them, went back later to get them."
"You shouldn't have done that, Sir. What if orcs had found you by yourself like that? Those others were scouts. Where there are scouts, there are groups of orcs waiting to attack," Sam said with a frown.
"Don't worry my good Samwise. Boromir and I looked for signs of other orcs in the area and found none. But we have to leave now. We've tarried too long as it is."
"That's right Sam. We were safe last night, thanks to you but this is a new day," Aragorn said, coming up to them. Sam blushed at the praise and Frodo beside him beamed with pride. "Come now. To the boats with you. Your cousins and Boromir are already there, Frodo, as is Gimli. They wait only for us."
"All right, Aragorn. We're coming," Frodo said, walking beside Sam
towards the boats. "Sam?"
"Yes Mr. Frodo?"
"Thank you."
"For what, Sir?"
"For coming with me. For protecting me from whatever you may."
"Now Mr. Frodo," Sam started.
"No Sam. Let me say this. Throughout this journey, you've been the one at my side. When I awoke in Rivendell, you were the one who they said stayed at my side. They told me you wouldn't leave even to eat or sleep. You slept in the room with me, ate your meals with me, you were there for me. In Lórien, you were the one to hold me when I cried. If I had to forsake the Fellowship for any reason, you'd be the one that I'd want with me." When he had finished they both had tears in their eyes. Then side-by- side, they set out together with the Fellowship to begin the third day of the journey since leaving the Woods of Lothlórien.

The End