Disclaimer: LoTR and all the characters therein belong to the Tolkien estate, I'm just writing for fun and not profit. Some parts of the first chapter have been quoted and paraphrased from the end of the Two Towers.
Last Ring-Bearer by shrinni
Chapter 1
Sam stood, white faced, staring down on the broken and jagged plains that he must cross alone, and his heart quailed. He took a few steps, and they seemed the heaviest and most reluctant of his life.
I don't want this quest, Sam thought despondently, if I could have one wish it would be to go back to Mister Frodo.
But while Sam took his slow and heavy steps, the defenders of the pass of Cirith Ungol had not been idle, the red eye of the tower had betrayed Frodo and Sam's presence, and Sam could hear orc scouting parties approaching him from both sides.
His eyes darted around, searching for a place to hide him, a way to escape. But there was no escape for even a small and clever Hobbit.
Is my time as a Ring-bearer over before it even begins?
But even as Sam had these thoughts, his way of escape became clear. Without conscious decision, he reached pulled the chain from beneath his shirt and over his head, and put the Ring on his finger without bothering to draw it from the chain.
As well he did, for immediately after he placed the Ring on his finger, the orcs appeared.
He stepped back out of their way, amazed that the orcs couldn't see him. They passed before him, grey shadows and torches paler than the harvest moon. Sam marveled that even as his sight seemed dim, his hearing had been magnified so that even as he listened to the hoarse speech of the orcs, he could also hear the bitter sounds of the wounded Shelob deep in her lair, nursing her wounds and her hate.
Sam felt horribly visible with the Ring burning like fire upon his finger, and knew that somewhere a red eye searched for him, but he couldn't take off the Ring now. So instead he hid himself among the rocks as the last of the grey company passed, hoping that that would be enough.
He listened as the orcs met where Frodo had fallen, and listened in fear as they spoke. The Ring must be able to translate tongues, for he understood every word they said. They muttered to each other, curses mostly, and wondered what there was to be found on the Stairs.
When Sam heard the group behind and out of sight shout, he knew they had found Frodo's body. The terrible stories he head heard of the orcs brutality came rushing to him, and the Quest was forgotten in an instant as he dashed back down the steps, thinking only to say Mister Frodo's body from being defiled.
The run through the grey mist seemed to take forever. Same feared he would be too late to save Mister Frodo once again, and that fear sent him sprinting though unnatural tiredness pulled at his limbs and the Ring dragged him down by his finger.
As he was about to round the final corner however, a clear light seemed to shine through the shadow world, and Sam heard a faint voice in his ears: 'Wait, my dear Sam.'
Sam stopped dead in his tracks. "Mister Frodo?" He whispered, disbelieving. But the voice said nothing more.
Sam could not disobey his master ever in life, and no less service could he do in death. He crouched behind a boulder, and listened to the rough-voiced orcs as they talked.
"...This spy was not alone Shagrat, you blind scum. Who cut the cords? Who stuck a pin in Her Ladyship? Where is the other one Shagrat?"
There was a short silence, then a different voice growled, "We came upon no one behind, and our path doesn't have the twisty tunnels that your did. Look for your spy there."
There was shouting then, the first two voices yelling at each other and their voices echoing off the rocks so that even Sam's heightened hearing could not make out what was being said. He could tell that underneath the insults that a party had gone back to the tunnels, to look for him, though they thought him some elvish warrior.
If they think me behind, my way in front will be clear. Thought Sam, his mind turning again to the Quest. But he could not leave Mister Frodo.
When the shouting died down, Sam heard them discussing Mister Frodo.
"Dead as a stone he is."
"Can we eat him?"
"I wouldn't if I were you." A harsh cackle. "Her Ladyship has poisoned him well. She likes her tasty morsels alive, but he's so small, her normal poisons must have killed him." A nasty laugh. "You want to eat poison, Gorbag?"
"I guess not then, but I want his pretty dagger."
"No. I have my orders, we take him and all his things to the tower, and send a description of all his trinkets to Lugbúrz, and Lugbúrz only."
A snarl. "Fine."
Sam heard them lift his master's body from the ground and carry him through the tunnels. He made to follow, but once again he heard Mister Frodo's voice, feather light. 'No Sam, there are more important than protecting the dead.'
"But I can't leave you Mister Frodo, not ever." Sam whispered in anguish, tears streaming down his face.
'You must Sam.' Frodo's voice was stern and sad, but there was an undercurrent of joy that Sam had not heard from Frodo since they left the Shire. 'A last service, gentle Sam, for me. Take up my burden. Finish the Quest.'
Sam sobbed, but knew in his heart that he could never deny Frodo anythinig he asked, and especially not this. "I'll do it Mister Frodo, but my heart breaks to leave you."
Frodo's voice grew fainter. 'If you fail Sam, it will not matter. You are the last hope of Hobbits and Men and Elves.'
"It's all wrong Mister Frodo, all wrong. But I'll do it." Sam stood, and turned once again to the path he knew he must follow.
Frodo's voice was now more faint then the sighing of a breeze. 'Goodbye Sam.'
"Goodbye Mister Frodo." Sam whispered.
Sam took off the Ring, knowing that if he wore it in Mordor he would me found in a moment. He walked until he could once again look on the shattered plains of Mordor, looked upon the great host camped in the valley, and was too weighed down by grief to be afraid.
"The last hope of Hobbits and Men and Elves." Sam said to himself, and gave a mournful laugh. "I'm not going to throw it in the fire for anything so great and noble as that, Mister Frodo. I'm just a gardener, just your gardener."
Sam stared at Mt. Doom, which smoked and glowed orange in the night. "No noble soul drives me, Mister Frodo." Sam whispered as he began walking down the path once more. "I'm doing this for you."
There was no reply but the whistling of the wind.