Urg... sorry I've taken so long to update... I was actually planning on getting a lot done over the break... Ha. I've had the flu, and just when I though that I was well again I relapsed and was even worse. This was probably the most un-fun Christmas ever... and I just got back into school today! I have a disgusting amount of make-up work to do, but I am going to make a sincere effort to update as often as possible. But I can't make any promises... I have midterms next week! :P

Thank you so very much for all of the reviews! *beams* willowscribe... do you mean how Frodo defeated Sauron? Because I'm really not going to elaborate much more on how he killed Gollum. They fought and Frodo won. That's basically it. And Sauron... there are still a couple of more chapters to go until a significant amount of light is shed on this question. Laura: *blush* you flatter me. No criticism??? *dances around the room, screaming "yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" insanely* Too bad it shan't last. Nutty... what can I say? LOL!

Hmm... I had better get writing, wouldn't you say? So... this is Chapter 4... and... well, you know the drill.

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Chapter 4: Loss of Will

Frodo gazed up at Sam with disbelief in his wide blue eyes. How could his Sam threaten to do such a thing? He had thought that Sam's devotion was unconditional and always unwavering... but obviously he had been wrong.

i"That's right... he is a filthy traitor; a sniveling little rat."i

"No," thought Frodo desperately, "not Sam... not my dear Sam..."

i"Yes... he wants to take me... he wants to take me from you... but you mustn't let him, Frodo!"i

"But that can't be right! Sam is going to drop you... he is going to drop imei!" And that thought brought Frodo's thoughts back to his current plight. Looking up at Sam, he searched his familiar face for any sign of pity. Sam appeared to be in great pain, but prepared to perform the sickening deed if need arose.

"Mr. Frodo, please! Just drop the accursed thing! Don't you make me do this... oh, please, sir..."

Sam was right! He was being so foolish! Drop it! Oh, why couldn't he bring himself to drop the Ring? It was just a band of gold... just a worthless ring! Why...

"Master!" Sam's voice was urgent now... desperate... "Frodo, me dear..." he paused, seemingly searching for the right words. He than began to speak very slowly, as if every word was a dagger to his heart. "Sir, I... I shall count to ten... and... and... if you don't let it go, I... I shall..." A sob escaped from Sam, and he turned his gaze away from his dear Frodo, unable to stand the intense disbelief and despair in his eyes.

Frodo was in a panic. Sam had spoken very gravely, and he certainly sounded like he meant every word of it. But for the life of him, he could not drop the Ring!

"He shan't drop you anyway," part of him argued, "Sam is Sam. He shall never be able to bring himself to do it."

"One..."

"But," Frodo argued, "he has other things he cares about besides me. The Shire... the whole world is depending upon my task! Sam knows that as well as I... and if I refuse to do this thing, then he shall do it for me..." He paused for a moment, concluding, "And he shall be right as well."

"Two..."

"If he does this, then he shall be a liar and a traitor! He pretended to care for you... he pretended to be your friend!"

"Three..."

"Sam is my friend! He is my very best friend! My Sam..."

"Four..."

"You don't have any friends; nobody likes you... him least of all!"

"Five..."

"No... nonono..." Frodo was sobbing now, in utter despair.

"Six."

"Do you think the Fellowship cared about you? Of course they did not... all they cared about was the Ring, and about using you to do their bidding."

"Seven..." Sam's voice cracked. What was taking his master so long?

The ring... he had to drop it. He HAD to! But he could no longer control his hand... It wasn't fair... It wasn't his fault! Sam had to understand... "Sam! My dear Sam! You can't do this! Please... you must understand! I can't... I just can't... oh, please! Please! pleasepleaseplease..."

"Eight..." This was barely audible, for it was nothing more than a loud sob.
Frodo was in hysterics now; shouting curses and kicking wildly, sobs racking his small, bruised body.

"Nine..." Sam's voice was resigned, and he was preparing himself for what he was going to have to do in a couple of moments.

A sudden calm washed over Frodo, and he stopped struggling. Perhaps it was all for the best. He would find a peace in death that he would never be able to possess again whilst he was living. And even if he did destroy the ring himself, he would die minutes later anyway. He only wished that he could die being the hero that they had all wanted him to be. Strider... Gandalf... Sam... they would all be disappointed in him... but perhaps they would understand. He wasn't strong enough to be their hero. But Sam... his sweet Sam... he was.

Barely above a whisper, Sam murmured, "Ten."

Frodo screwed his eyes shut tight as he could, and waited...

But the end did not come. Sam was still clinging desperately to his beloved master, unable to let go. "Now," he thought grimly, "I know how Mr. Frodo feels about that ring." Sam tried one last time to reason with his Mr. Frodo. "Please, sir, just-"

"-Never!"

Frodo was partly shocked that he had shouted at Sam so harshly, but glad as well. Perhaps that would wake the poor lad up and make him realize that... that killing him was the only safe course of action to take.

He should have known better. Sam just did not have the strength to condemn the friend that he loved so much to a fiery death. Sam began to pull Frodo up.

"You fool!" he shouted in anger, and he tried in vain to free himself from Sam's grasp. But it was all for naught, for Sam was much stronger than he. Also, Frodo did not put his whole heart into the struggle. In truth, he did not want to die.

Relief flooded through Frodo's body as he felt sturdy rock beneath him. He numbly allowed himself to be gathered up into Sam's arms.

For his part, Sam knew that he had made a grave mistake, but he couldn't help himself. He had loved and admired Frodo ever since he was a small child, and Frodo too had cared for him. Most lads in their tweens wouldn't have wanted a small boy of twelve following them about everywhere. Most masters would have admonished their servants for being overly familiar. But not his Mr. Frodo. He was different... special in a way that Samwise could not explain.

In his tight embrace, Sam's master was sobbing. Sam looked down upon him in pity, studying him thoughtfully. This thin and filthy hobbit was nothing like the lad whom he had loved as a child. Not only his body had changed, but his very essence... his soul. If Sam closed his eyes, he could almost see Frodo, young and laughing, his blue eyes alight, just so... so happy. No, the pitiful creature lying in his arms was not his Mr. Frodo... but as long as he lived, there was still hope that he could become again what he once was.

"There we go, what did I tell you?" part of Frodo thought smugly. "If there is one good thing about that fool, it is that he is so very attached to you. He could never bring himself to harm you. What were you thinking? How could you consider resigning yourself to death? You have the ring now! Think of what you could accomplish! You, with the ring, could turn Mordor into a place of song and laughter, as it was in the Beginning, before the Dark Lord! Yes, you Frodo, could bring this about and much more. You have in you the power to reverse every evil Sauron has done unto this Earth."

Frodo did not have the willpower to deny himself. He slowly rose, pushing Sam away dismissively.

Sam pulled away from Frodo, wiping the tears from his eyes. He was completely at a loss of what he should say or do. The young hobbit knew quite well that he was wrong for allowing Frodo to keep the ring, but what could he do? If Sam was to provoke Frodo into anger, Frodo would slay him, and then there wouldn't be any hope of his master ever coming to his senses. Sam figured that he would have to stay in Frodo's good graces until an opportunity arose for him to... well, what exactly he wanted to do he did not know. Sam decided that he would buy himself some time to think, so he reverted to his usual manner of focusing on the practical points of their adventure. "Mr. Frodo, where are we going to go? What are we going to do? We have naught to eat and drink... and what of the others, sir? By the sound of what those Orcs said, the Dark Lord was attacking Gondor. Wasn't that where Mr. Strider was settin' off to? The rest of the Fellowship probably followed him as well..." Then the full impact of what he was saying hit Sam in a flash. "They may be dyin' sir... even as we speak!"

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Okay... not as much of a cliffhanger as the other chapters, but I suppose I cannot expect every chapter to end on such a suspenseful note. As I said, as soon as my midterms are over (next Tuesday) I am planning to update at a more constant rate. Until then, I shall be reading the multitude of reviews that I know you are going to send me (because if you do not, I shall see to it that you all die bloody, painful deaths.) Hmm... now an opinion question: I am thinking about writing the next chapter partly from the points of view of the rest of the fellowship. Do you think that is a good idea, or should I just keep it only from the points of view of Frodo and Sam? So, review and tell me your opinions. Please and thank you!

~*Nymredil*~