A/N: I said I wanted Sam taking care of injured Frodo. I said this story was shameful self-indulgence. This chapter proves it. Be prepared for a chapter full of what in a different fandom is called "WAFF" – warm and fuzzy feelings.

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A Wilderness of Warding

Chapter 2

"Samwise Gamgee!"

Sam jolted awake. He squinted, wondering why there was a tree branch jabbing into his shoulder, and why it was so bright and cold, and had someone called his name? He shook his head, closed his eyes and would have rubbed them, but his hands were stuck underneath something still and heavy and…breathing.

"Frodo!" Sam forgot all about the voice that had wakened him, and bent over Frodo. He was alive, but that was just about all that could be said about him.

"And that's more'n I thought we'd be," Sam whispered. Wonderingly, he fingered the elven cloak spread so thinly over them both. Elven magic, he thought. Had to be. He was colder than he'd ever been in his life, even on Caradhras, but he was alive.

Sam looked worriedly at his unconscious master. Magic cloaks or no, they wouldn't be alive for long in this cold. And Frodo needed more than warmth. Sam pulled out Frodo's wounded hand, and gently curled his own stiff fingers over the bloodied gap. He had nothing with which to tend it. Their orc garb was hide and hair and metal. The elven cloak would not tear, and besides they needed it whole. Sam's shirt and breeches were filthy from Mordor and would be worse than nothing. At least the finger, what was left of it, had stopped bleeding. Still, Frodo was in a bad way. He needed food and water and tending. They both did.

"And where I'm going to find it on a mountainside in the middle of winter is more than I can tell," Sam said in despair. "Might as well still be in Mordor."

A weak laugh turned quickly to a cough, and Frodo convulsed in Sam's arms. Sam lifted him quickly, and supported him while he gasped for breath.

"Dear Sam," he whispered, his voice slurred and rough. "Does it matter?" He opened his eyes, and looked up at his friend. A faint smile split his soot-covered face. Sam smiled back.

"Mornin', sir. At least, I think it's morning. A bright day, by the look of those sunbeams through those branches up there. It's been long since we've had light. Light, and…and water, sir!"

While Frodo watched, Sam reached up to the roof of branches just inches above them. He scrabbled a little, and a fine spray of snow drifted down on them. Sam brought a handful to Frodo's parched lips and rubbed gently. Frodo hesitantly licked his lips of the droplets of water that formed.

Sam fed Frodo snowmelt, but stopped when his master started shivering again. Frodo needed water, but he'd freeze sooner than he'd die of thirst if he kept getting it this way.

But that brought them to the point. What to do now? Sam put the question to his master. Frodo looked up at him fondly.

"What is to be done, Sam? You must make such choices as you can without me. Yes," he insisted when Sam shook his head. "You must. I have no strength left… none to leave this place. But you can go."

Sam still shook his head. He put his fingers over Frodo's lips when Frodo tried to continue, and met Frodo's blue gaze with his steady brown one.

"I left you once, sir, against my heart. I shan't leave you again."

Frodo was silent. Then tears began to slide down the sides of his face.

"No, sir, don't. Please!" Horrified, Sam wiped the tears away, but Frodo regarded him steadily, unashamed.

After a moment, he whispered, "If you will not leave me to save yourself… than I must go with you. But it is beyond me. Your staying because of that… is more than I can bear."

"Frodo," Sam said very softly. "There ain't no place to go, anyhow. So don't fret, me dear." He laid a gentle kiss in Frodo's hair, and then nestled them up tighter underneath the elven cloak. "And speaking of the other thing, we'll go together or not at all. Seeing as how we could have done that just as well where we were, I think it's not at all, if you follow me."

There was a choked sound beneath him. Startled, Sam loosened his grip and pushed Frodo away just enough to see that he was laughing. Feebly, faintly, tears still trickling down his cheeks, but laughing. Sam stared. For a moment, color returned to his friend's worn face.

"Oh, Sam. Well, since we are here… and not there… you must be right. Since you are right… why don't you take a look outside… and see where we are. But first," he tangled weak fingers in Sam's shirt to stop him from rising, "take care of yourself. That wound looks dreadful." He gestured toward Sam's forehead.

Sam started. With all that had happened and in his worry over his master, he'd forgotten about Gollum's attack. Now he could feel the stiffness of dried blood down the side of his face, and a considerable throbbing behind his temple. He touched the wound gingerly and grimaced.

"Does it hurt?" asked Frodo, watching Sam dab at it with a handful of snow. "It's quite bruised and angry."

Automatically, Sam shook his head, then stopped as a wave of dizziness suddenly swept over him. The first thing he saw when the darkness passed was Frodo's worried face. He smiled at him reassuringly. "Naught to worry about. I reckon I look a sight, but that's all."

Frodo wasn't convinced. "Sam, you've gone quite pale--" But Sam loosened Frodo's grip on his shirt and laid him down on the dense bed of fallen needles, tucking the elven cloak firmly around him. When Frodo protested, Sam favored him with a no-nonsense-from-you look.

"Lay you quiet there, while I take a peek." He knelt, then looked back over his shoulder. "Best close your eyes 'til I'm through."

Frodo obeyed, and Sam started pushing aside the snow-laden branches that formed their shelter's roof. Snow showered on them both. With one great shove, he pushed his head and shoulders through. The bright daylight struck him like a blow. He cried out, bringing one hand up to shield his eyes. The throbbing in his head increased viciously and he swallowed down sudden nausea.

"Sam? Sam! What is it?"

"Nothing, sir, nothing," he answered, squeezing his eyelids to slits and wiping away the tears. "Just bright out here, that's all. It'll pass." He could feel the worry in the silence behind him. After a few minutes, he managed to keep his eyes open. With one hand blocking part of the glare, he got a good look at the world into which they had inexplicably arrived.

-TBC-