They had made good time that day, traveling ever closer to the haven of Rivendell. As evening settled over Middle Earth, the four companions stopped to make camp for the night. They had reached the borders of Imladris, which seemed to provide a semblance of security to the hobbits.

Frodo found himself wishing they could continue through the night. The babe Sam carried had dropped in position since they had left Bag End. He could tell Sam was very uncomfortable now, though he wasn't complaining. He had grown so large in front that it seemed almost painful for him to move about. Perhaps that was why Sam hadn't wished to leave the wagon today? Frodo forced himself to believe that was true, as he set himself to the task of making the most comfortable bed he could manage.

He was grateful to have Merry and Pippin along. They were eager to help. Pippin had taken to looking after Sam, fetching him anything he needed, distracting him in any way that he could. Yes, Pippin had truly been a blessing on this trip. Then again, Merry had been a great help also. He immediately set to making a campfire whenever they stopped and he made sure that everyone ate to keep up their strength. Yes, Frodo was very glad to have his cousins there.

His attention returned to Sam, as he walked into the camp. Both hands pressed against his lower back, moving very slowly in an almost waddle-like gait. There was a distant look in Sam's eyes, as though he wasn't quite aware of where he was. Deep down, Frodo knew that something was wrong, but he refused to acknowledge it.

"Are you alright, Sam-dear? You seem rather distant, my love." Frodo asked as Sam clumsily lowered himself beside Frodo.

"Do I? T'was not my meaning, to be sure. Mayhap I'm just tired … "Sam replied dreamily before curling up at Frodo's side with a sigh.

Frodo smiled, feeling slightly worried. Sam wasn't acting like himself, and Frodo started praying to the Valar and anyone else who might listen, that Sam's behavior wasn't a signal of the impending birth. He slid his hand over Sam's belly, hoping to comfort them both. Instead he felt a cool chill run through him, as Sam's swollen abdomen seemed firmer and tighter than it had even the previous day. No longer could he deny it, time was running out.

"Frodo? Frodo, wake up!" Pippin's frantic voice brought him away from his dreams quickly.

"What's wrong? Is it Sam?!?" Frodo shot to his feet, panic gripping him with its chilly fingers.

"Yes and no, Frodo. He's missing. He was gone when Merry and I woke this morning."

"He's what?" Frodo screeched, as visions of his reoccurring dream, in which Sam died in childbirth, flooded his head. He had to find Sam. What if his dream were truth? No! He pushed that thought from his mind, and ran into the woods, with Pippin close behind him.

Minutes passed like hours. Frodo searched frantically, pushing himself to the limits. How could Sam just wander off like this? Didn't he realize how worried they'd be? If he's not hurt when I find him, I shall give him such a talking to that will put shame to the Gaffer! Frodo thought as he searched.

"Anything?" Merry called from where he was searching.

"Not yet, I'm afraid." Pippin answered.

"He couldn't have gone far in his condition." Frodo hoped. "We should check closer to camp, and split up to cover more ground!"

Obeying, Merry ran one way, and Pippin in the other. Frodo turned and ran back the way he came. He had a feeling that they had missed something on the first pass. Something important.

Running faster, Frodo watched the ground searching for tracks. Again he found himself wishing Aragorn were there. Frodo felt so helpless, and laid no faith in his tracking skills. He cursed himself for not paying attention more when he was a lad and Bilbo had tried to teach him tracking skills.

Frodo was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost didn't hear the soft whimper that came from the bushes beside him. He stopped dead in his tracks and called out frantically.

"Sam?"

He waited, but heard nothing.

"Sam?! Where are you?" He yelled into the quiet morning air.

"Frodo." Sam's voice was quiet and weak.

Frodo ran towards the sound, and gasped as Sam came into view. He was standing by a huge tree, his hand resting heavily on it for support. He was shaking terribly, and all color seemed to have drained from his face, upon which he wore a look of fear. Sam's eyes spoke of the panic he was feeling inside.

"Frodo … "

Before he realized what he was doing, Frodo had closed the distance between them, and had wrapped his arms around Sam for support. Together, they sank gently to the ground, never taking their eyes from each other.

"Sam. My Sam." Frodo said with a tiny smile of pure relief. He knew what was happening, but relief that Sam would not be alone had won over his fear for a moment. A very brief moment.

Sam's eyes widened, becoming unfocused with pain. He let out a low, guttural moan as another contraction washed over him. All sound disappeared, as though the whole world vanished. As the pain built, Sam closed his eyes and tried to focus all his energy on the feeling of Frodo's arms held tightly around him. When the pain passed once more, he tried to explain.

"Frodo, I'm so sorry." He began breathlessly. "I only had to relieve meself." He swallowed. "The pains started again, and I tried to get back to camp, truly I did." He gave Frodo a helpless look, trying to keep from crying. " I can't walk no further, Frodo!"

Frodo nodded, swallowing his fear. So many times on their quest, Sam had been Frodo's strength. Now that their places were reversed, he had no intentions of letting Sam down. Sam was in labor, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His mind raced once more, going over all the options he could think of.

"Sam-dear, I have to find Merry and Pippin. I shall send them on to Rivendell to bring back help. I don't want to leave you for a moment, but I must." Frodo stated as calmly as he could. Now was not the time to show how scared he truly was.

"I understand." Sam grunted as another contractions tore through him. Gratefully, Sam held Frodo's hands until the pain subsided.

"I will be as quick as I possibly can, my love." Frodo said with a nod, before running off back to came once more.

Frodo returned as quickly as he could. He had gathered all the supplies, from their camp, that he could carry. He knew that they would have to wait a few hours for help to arrive. Praying that the babe would wait that long, he knelt down beside Sam.

"So … cold … " Sam shivered and looked at Frodo with tears in his eyes. He was so afraid. It was like he had lost control over his body. Things were moving so fast. He wasn't ready for this. There was still supposed to be two weeks until the birth. They were supposed to be in Rivendell. He was supposed to be lying in an overly large elven bed, with herbs or something to help the pain. He was supposed to be under the care of Lord Elrond. Instead he was laying, shivering on the cold ground, in the woods. At least he wasn't alone, he thought.

Frodo had covered him with a blanket sometime while he was lost in thoughts. He could feel another contraction building. Knotting his fists in the blanket, Sam closed his eyes and released the scream that had lain waiting in his throat. When the pain finally passed, he lay huddled against Frodo, sweating and gasping for breath.

The hours passed very slowly. The contractions were coming very close together, and at such a strength that it left Sam gasping for breath until the next one hit. Frodo had to fight his fear more and more. Flashes of his nightmares kept coming back to him.

He cradled Sam between his legs. Rocking him through each contraction, and singing softly in between. As each hour passed, Sam's complexion grew even more ashen. He glistened with a chill sweat that covered his body. Each new pain sapped more of his strength from him. Sam was fading, and Frodo feared that if help didn't arrive soon, his nightmares would come true. He would lose Sam and the babe.

"Frodo?" Sam's voice seemed very small and far away.

"Shh, my love. Save your strength, Lord Elrond will arrive soon, and then we've some work to do." Frodo said, as silent tears rolled down his cheeks and landed in Sam's golden curls when he kissed them.

"If I … If I don't … " Another pain slammed through him, as though the babe were trying to tear him in two in order to be born.

"Don't you dare talk like that, Samwise Gamgee! You will do no such thing, do you hear me?" Frodo scolded though his tears. "This baby needs you! And so do I."

Yet another relentless contraction ripped through Sam's body. He could hear himself cry out in pain, though the sound seemed terribly far away. His head began to swim. He was aware of Frodo talking, but he couldn't understand any of it. Was Frodo talking to him, or someone else? The world was growing dark and Sam had the feeling that he was falling from a terrible height. Falling. Falling. Falling until everything was blackness.