A/N: Ooh, second chapter already...I can barely contain my excitement!

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Aragorn stood, frozen, for a brief second, even as Sam's form disappeared from sight. For a few seconds, the entire Fellowship stared in horror at the empty space, and then all hell broke lose.

"SAM!"

Merry was the first to move. Furthest away from the brink, he managed to push his way past Gimli and Legolas before a pair of strong arms locked themselves around him and pulled his feet off the ground. Yelling and screaming, the young Brandybuck kicked, punched and struggled as Gandalf kept the hobbit back from the precipice.

"No…NO!" Gandalf hissed as Merry fought, "I will not have another of our Fellowship fall to their doom! All of you stay back….Aragorn! Boromir! Watch them!"

As a small blur raced past him, Aragorn saw Boromir grab Frodo by the waist and pull him back to safety. The next second, the Ranger whirled round and caught Pippin squarely in the chest, lifting him up into the air, where his pounding feet could do less damage.

"Let me go!" Pippin wept into Aragorn's shoulder, pounding at him with all his might, "I might be able to get to him….just let me go, will you?"

Merry was shouting the same thing at Gandalf, while Frodo had given up all hope of swaying Boromir. Already overcome by grief, the Ringbearer was sobbing desperately as he drove his fists and feet into any part of Boromir he could reach. Gimli had grabbed Bill's reigns and pulled him away from the continuing fight, burying his face into the pony's reigns in an attempt to cover his fear and grief. Legolas stood at the edge of the cliff, his face unreadable.

Gandalf had the worst job of it. Merry, a young hobbit who had gotten into his fair share of fights, both honourable and unsporting, was using any opportunity to fight dirty with the wizard, using his fists, knees, head, feet, and teeth to lay into him. Pippin, though not blessed with the experience that Merry had, was used to getting out of small spaces, so instead of fighting, was trying to wriggle out of his captors grasp. Frodo, with a strength that Aragorn had never seen before in one so small, was not even trying to rid himself of Boromir, but was simply trying to run to the edge of the cliff, as if he thought he could drag the man with him.

"Aragorn!" The Ranger looked up to see Gimli, still grasping the reigns, a look of horror on his face, "'Ware the elf!"

Aragorn turned round just in time to see Legolas, a speeding, blurred form, sprinting past time and scramble down over the edge.

"Legolas, NO!" Aragorn would have turned and ran over the edge to save his friend at that very moment, if Gandalf, gasping for breath and now holding a still-struggling Merry under one arm, had grabbed his shoulder with surprising strength.

"Leave him!" The wizard shouted, "Leave him….I hardly think you have the speed and agility of the elves, Aragorn! See, he does not leap, foolhardily, as the rest of you would, but makes his way slowly down!" Gandalf's voice softened, "He will live, Aragorn, never fear. But keep an eye on your small charge!"

As Frodo sobbed, and Gandalf barked something at Merry, Aragorn knelt down and placed Pippin on the ground, still holding him tightly by the shoulders, "Hush, Pippin," He whispered, patting the trembling hobbit on the back, "Sam will be alright. Legolas has gone to fetch him, see?"

Pippin hiccupped, rubbing his fists into his eyes, "Is S-Sam really ill, Strider?"

Aragorn frowned, unwilling to lie to the little one, "He may turn out to be, Pippin, if we do not find a remedy for his sickness soon," The man winced as Pippin's sobs intensified, and Merry turned round from where he had been shouting obscenities at Gandalf to glower at him, "Have hope, Peregrin. What would Sam say if he saw you like this?"

The smallest hobbit looked up, still hiccupping, and grinned shakily, his green eyes still watery.

"He wouldn't like it t'all, would he?"

Aragorn shook his head, patting the hobbit on the shoulder, "Dry your eyes, Pippin. Legolas will find him."

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"Sam? Sam!"

Legolas lifted his head, springing lightly from one rock to another, making steady work down the cliff face. It was hard work, and slow work, as the rocks were uneven and shaken. A mortal would completely dislodge them. Legolas closed his eyes and took hold of an out-jutting rock, pulling himself in towards the cliff as the wind whipped round his body. For an instant, he thought of what would have happened, had Gandalf, Boromir and Aragorn not been at hand. Another one of the little ones plunging to their death. The elf sighed, before letting go and dropping smoothly to the bottom, springing away from the ground he landed on a second before the rock he had taken hold of crashed on top of him.

The trail of dust and disturbed rocks that showed where Sam must have rolled was careening down the slope and across to the left, swerving away from the gulf that he had assumed Sam had fell to his doom in. Smiling slightly in relief, his eyes scanned the ground as he followed the down-sloping trail into the forest. Here the light was beginning to dim, as sunlight crept away from the land, and evening began to steal in. Cursing the time left to him, the elf doubled his efforts to find the hobbit. If Sam was left out here, in his condition, in the night, Eru alone knew what would happen to him…

Starting, Legolas realised that he had been standing still for at least five minutes, lost in his thoughts. In shock, he realised the journey down the cliff alone had taken more than half an hour. He shook his head in horror. If he hadn't been so concerned about his own safety, surely he would have found Sam by now! And the hobbit was still out here, alone and cold. Time was pressing on.

"Sam! Sam!"

There was no answer. Panic now pumping through him, the elf moved quickly, following the trail through the forest. He could hear his own footsteps, uncommonly loud, drowning out everything else. All else was silent in the wood, save for his own breathing…and the soft breathing of someone else….a much smaller person…

Legolas let out a cry, running forward and dropping to his knees as he spied the small bundle that had landed next to the trunk of an old oak tree. Breathing deeply, he reached out and gently rolled the hobbit over on his back. Sam's face was scrunched up in pain, the colour now a very definite blanched white colour. Sweat evenly coated his head, neck and hands, which were now trembling violently. Sam's whole body shook and doubled up, until the hobbit was coughing and spluttering for breath.

"Easy….easy…." Legolas whispered, helping Sam up to his knees and rubbing his back in a circulatory manner, "Hush, perian, hush. It will all be over soon."

Sam retched, bending over on all fours to throw up. Closing his eyes at the stink, Legolas supported him, holding him by the shoulders until he was finished. The lad hardly looked better for his efforts, and collapsed against Legolas' body, closing his eyes and whimpering slightly.

Legolas looked at the hobbit with tired, sad eyes, "Come, master hobbit, you need rest," Even though Sam could no longer hear him, Legolas laughed slightly, "I will not hear one word of your protests. This time, I shall carry you."

He lifted the hobbit gently up into his arms, marvelling at how light he was, and stood up, beginning to walk the long trek back up to the Fellowship.

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"It's been over an hour," Merry grumbled sourly, pacing along the cliff's side.

Pippin sighed, running his hands through his hair and sniffing slightly. Legolas had been gone for what seemed like an Age now, and Merry, never one to be patient at the best of times, was suddenly sparking and crackling like an irritable firework, waiting to go off. Privately, Pippin thought Merry had a point. Where was Legolas? Surely it would have been better for one of them to go down with him – after all, two pairs of eyes were better than one. Dammit, he should have been back ages ago… But if Merry was this tense now, Pippin didn't particularly want to join him. The rest of the Fellowship didn't look like they could handle another angry hobbit.

His cousin kicked the pebbles that littered the ground, and shook his head, "He should have been back by now…"

None of them answered. Boromir, as impatient a being as Merry, but with more control, leant against one of the few maple trees that were scattered sparsely about with cliff side, tensely sheathing and unsheathing his sword, "If I made my way slowly down…the elf might need help…"

Gandalf shook his head firmly, looking up from where he and Aragorn had been hastily gathering herbs together, "Boromir of Gondor, if you dare to take one step closer to that cliff edge, I promise that you shall regret it for the rest of you life. I will not have another member of the Fellowship diving off that cliff…."

"What do you mean you?" Merry snapped indignantly, cutting across Gandalf's talk, "If anyone should go down to find Sam, it should be one of the Shirefolk!"

"As I was saying, no-one is to go down…"

"Now, Master Meriadoc," Boromir said fondly, "I admire your courage, but it would be folly for any one of your kinsfolk – or, indeed, yourself – to try and venture down there – especially as your, ah, impatience tends to show itself."

"Neither of you will be going…"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Merry walked forward, now glowering furiously up at the Man of Gondor, hands planted firmly on his hips, "That a Man, who by all means should try and brave the Cliffside, but would sooner fall than get half the way down, be more successful than a hobbit?"

"Master Meria…."

"What I mean," Boromir retorted, eyes now blazing with something akin to anger, "is that, in view of your present state of mind, the second you were to set your feet on the rocks that would serve as footholds, your impatience would kick them clean off and you would fall to your death!"

Gandalf was regarding the pair with building impatience, Pippin noticed, and buried his head further into his sleeves to avoid running the risk of being a target for the wizard's wrath.

"And you believe that you would do better, I suppose?"

"Yes, when the heat's on!"

"ENOUGH!" Gandalf suddenly roared, rising to his feet and fixing the pair with a fire-filled stare. Merry, who had been in the act on unsheathing his sword, dropped it hastily on the ground and cowered slightly, and even Boromir shrunk back from where he had been leaning down to shout at Merry.

"Enough," The wizard repeated, aware of the fact that Gimli was hiding a slight smile, and both Frodo and Pippin had retreated around the fire to the safety of Boromir, "Fighting amongst ourselves will never rectify any wrong that has been caused. None of you will be going down the Cliffside, not you, Boromir, Lord of Gondor, nor you, Meriadoc, future Master of Buckland, neither Aragorn, neither Gimli, not Frodo, and most certainly not you, Peregrin Took!" Pippin let out another squeak, and huddled further into the warm comfort of Aragorn's shoulder, "We will wait, and pray that they get back before too long."

Pippin sniffled slightly, and crawled around Aragorn to sit next to Frodo, "Fro," He mumbled, "Is Sam going to be alright?"

Frodo looked up, and Pippin saw with a shock that Frodo's face had turned a washed-out, pallid white, and that his eyes, already worn and tired, were ringed with red. Stifling a gasp, Pippin realised what he had never thought about before; Frodo truly did care for Sam, and didn't consider him as a gardener, but a friend.

"Oh, I hope so Pip," And the voice was shaking, "I truly hope so."

Pippin nodded, and nudging Frodo to move his arm, nestled into the affectionate, tender embrace of his cousin.

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Legolas took a sharp gasp as he struggled up the slope. Mounting it before hand had been easy enough, but then he had been energized, well-fed and his hands had been free. He was about halfway up, and desperately tired. It was now well into the evening, and he could hear the quiet murmurs of voices just above him.

'If only one of them would look down,' He thought, elvish pride barring him from crying out for help, 'but I shall not call for aid, no, not while Eru still rules in the heavens!'

The elf took a short rest on one of the studier footholds, pressing himself into the rock as the wind, now fiercer than ever, howled around him. Sam had slumped into a deep sleep, his breathing at least easier. Legolas smiled at the thought that now, at least, Sam would be freed from the pain brought by the fever. But linger here too long, and he may not wake up, he chided himself.

Looking up into the night sky, the pale moonlight illuminated his way up. Grasping the rocks with one hand, and clutching Sam around the shoulders with the other, the elf managed to struggle upwards across the wide stretch of rock between him and the plateau. Legolas was almost able to place his hand across the flat land where the rest of the Fellowship were camped, before his foot, which he had carelessly placed on an out jutting rock which looked as though it could fall any second, slipped.

"AI!"

The voices from above him halted, and the next second, Aragorn's face was suspended above him, "Legolas? Melon, are you alright?"

"I am fine, though it may not be the case in a few more minutes," Legolas, teeth gritted, explained, "Aragorn, the perian…I cannot hold him for much longer."

Frodo's face, covered with both relief and fear, appeared next to Aragorn's, "Sam! Legolas, is he alive? Is he hurt?"

"He is alive, but mayn't be so for long."

"Hullo Legolas!" Pippin's gleeful face peered down, "Are you alright? We've been waiting for ages…"

Aragorn cut off the hobbit's prattle and stretched his hands down, taking the limp Sam's body from Legolas by the shoulders and pulling him up and over the cliff's edge. The Ranger frowned at Sam's weak breath, and picked up the hobbit, holding him easily above Frodo, Merry and Pippin's clamouring voices and outstretched hands. Gimli, who had been looking grimly looking down at the elf during the exchange, sighed and, with a last regretful look at Aragorn, knelt down and held his hand out to Legolas.

Legolas barely managed to hold on, such a shock was this. Why was the dwarf offering to help him? Eru knew, until now, Legolas had always assumed that Gimli would gladly have pushed him off a cliff, had he the chance. What was he doing? Was he planning on dropping him?

Various shades of irritation and exasperation flitted across Gimli's face, "Come, Master Elf, I do not wait forever! You were mightily foolish to leap down the cliff like that, but now take my hand and pull yourself up, or your mightily foolish self will fall to your doom, and I highly doubt that even an elf would survive such a fall. Durin, but these elves are such a suspicious race!"

An uncharacteristic scowl passing over his face, Legolas reached up with his own slender hand, and grabbed the dwarf's gloved one. Struggling, the pair managed to draw the elf up, and finally, Legolas pulled himself over the edge and lay, almost collapsed, on the step. He was not hurt, but the alarm he had felt when his foot slipped was in him, and shaking his body, and it took a couple of goes before he could sit up.

The dwarf was looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face, "A word in your pointed ear, Master Elf," He muttered, and the scowl deepened slightly on Legolas' usually fair face, "If any of these mighty men do ask how you finished your journey, inform them you pulled yourself up, if you please. It would be best to your advantage, and mine, I think."

Legolas nodded slowly, all thought of a truce with this strange and inexplicable dwarf forgotten, "I would not have thought of telling them anything else," He said, and was rewarded with a small 'harrumph'.

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Pippin balled up his cloak, teeth chattering slightly, and placed it under Sam's head, "Is he going to be alright, Strider?" He asked, a small smile still on his face, "Legolas found him, so really, he should be alright now."

Aragorn turned his face so the youngest hobbit would not be able to see the grief and doubt etched on his face, and busied himself by checking Sam's vital signs and placing a hand across his brow, checking his temperature. Frodo was already kneeling at his servant's side, holding Sam's dirty hand with his own pale one. As he squeezed the stiff hand soothingly in a desperate attempt to wake Sam, Frodo noticed the blanched pallor of Sam's skin, and his grey eyes, usually filled with some joy or anger, had slid open and were now dulled, staring into the night sky and were glazed.

Frodo let out a cry, holding Sam's hand tight, "He's awake! Strider, Gandalf, he's awake!"

Both wizard and man were bent over Sam in a second, the rest of the Fellowship gathering around. Gandalf shook the hobbit's body gently, "Samwise? Samwise, can you speak to us?" Sam tossed in pure agony from side to side, eyes still glassy and staring upward, "Hold him! Aragorn, hold him still!" Aragorn and Boromir bent over Sam and held him firmly down by the shoulders.

Boromir had to crane slightly, as Frodo would not move from his place by Sam's side. The hobbit's eyes were filled with unshed tears, the hand not clasping Sam's own shaking violently.

"He is alive, but separated from us," Gandalf muttered severely, passing a hand lightly over Sam's brow, "Oh, that I had spoken lighter to him while I had the chance!"

Sam let out a horror-filled, broken cry as Gandalf's hand touched his forehead, eyes now blinking rapidly. Legolas took Sam's other hand, murmuring words of comfort in elvish to the hobbit. The silence that followed was only broken by Legolas' constant whispering, Sam's harsh breathing and occasional gasps of pain. To Pippin, it seemed as though the rest of the Fellowship were too frightened to breath.

Finally, Gandalf let out a long-held breath, causing the rest of the group to look up in expectance, "I cannot read his mind," He breathed, causing Frodo's breath to hitch, "He is departed from it in a chance to escape the fever."

"But what caused it?" Merry exclaimed, "What would cause such a…such a suffering?"

"The fever Nifraeg," Aragorn muttered, in a voice low with weariness, "In the common tongue it is named Fear-Pain, but there have been too few cases these past years for it to be recorded. I felt it in the valley we past through these past few days, it hung in the air like a shadow. I believe the rabbits we caught for our supper were infected with it, and Sam, in preparing our food, was closest in contact with the disease, but the fire he stewed the rabbits over killed the virus. I suspected it," Here Aragorn hung his head, his long brown hair hiding his expression, "and yet I did not speak."

There was silence amongst the Fellowship.

Gimli was the first to speak, "Aye, but what does this Nifraeg, or whatever nonsense the elves have chosen to name it, do? What ill news bodes for the young hobbit?"

Aragorn held silent. Squashed in between Merry and the man and peering over at the now-still Sam, Pippin felt the Man's shoulders shaking, and looked up in alarm to see Aragorn, head bowed, one lone tear falling past his eyes.

Legolas answered the dwarf, "The elves have named it well, Master Dwarf, though you do not realise it," His voice was tight, "The illness spreads through the body in all the usual way – fever, a temperature, dizziness, unconsciousness. But in the mind – it spreads throughout the mind like a fire through a forest. It is nothing when likened to what Frodo went through following the fight upon Weathertop," He added quickly, nodding at the hobbits, "But in itself, it is a fearsome thing."

Sam, who had been silent up until now, let out a quiet moan and the hand that Frodo still held went limp, his breathing barely audible by now. Gandalf let out another gruff sigh. Irrepressible hobbits! Why he had let Sam come along on this journey at all he could barely fathom. True, Samwise was Frodo's servant, and therefore only Frodo could bar him from coming, but still, whenever he closed his eyes and pictured the hobbits, Sam's face was always surrounded by the woods and the fields, the flowers and plants he worked so diligently to protect. Not here. Gandalf shook his head again, a small smile coming to his lips. He could just picture Sam's face if he woke and saw them all surrounding him here!

"We will do him no good surrounding him like mother hens," He said, as all the Fellowship turned to face him, "Boromir, waken Meriadoc when your watch is finished – that is, if you can do that simple task without ripping each others heads off?" The pair looked guiltily at the floor, "Very well. Get some rest, you others."

Pippin looked across Sam's body at his cousin, as the rest of them moved away, "Frodo? Gandalf said to get some sleep."

Frodo was still staring down at Sam, "I'm not tired."

"Now then, Fro! You heard what Gandalf said, and it's been a busy day for all of us."

Frodo shook his head, tight-lipped and pale, "No, Pip. You sleep, I'll wait here."

Pippin sighed, and got up, unbuckling his pack from Bill and fetching his blanket, before looking sadly at Frodo, "I'm worried for you, cousin."

To Pippin's surprise, Frodo began to cry, deep, agonized sobs that shook his entire body and filled Pippin with sorrow, "I cannot leave him, Pippin!" Frodo burst out, burying his head in his hands, "Can't you see that?"

The young Took ran forward wrapping his arms around Frodo and hugging him with deep sincerity, "Now, Frodo, Sam wouldn't begrudge you a few hours sleep, would he?" He asked, trying to sound light-hearted.

"No," Frodo wept, "and neither would I him. And yet he did wait, he stayed beside my bedside through many a long night while I suffered from the Nazgul blade," Pippin looked at Frodo in alarm, and it seemed to him that his cousin began to shrink, and his face began to dim, "Aye, he waited, though I did not ask. And now, when our places are exchanged," The older hobbit started to cry afresh, "it fills me with horror and guilt that, try as I might, I may not be able to do the same for him!"

Pippin closed his eyes, burying his face in Frodo's hair, and he held him like that for a long time.

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A/N: And now, ladies and gentlehobbits, review replies! (with help from Merry and Pippin - apparently I can't reply to reviews by myself).

cookiefleck: Enjoying the fellowship interplay...
Merry: We all love each other really. Well, except for Legolas and Gimli...
cookiefleck: Hope you update soon so I can find out what's happened to poor Sam.
Pippin: And poor us! We have no idea what is happening!

rabidsamfan: Oh, this looks promising. yay! cliffhanger!
Merry: Excellent choice of words, rabidsamfan. Cliffhanger indeed. Especially for poor Legolas.

lovethosehobbits: GASP! More soon, ok?
Pippin: (love the penname!) Yes, indeed...wouldn't want to leave poor Sam in such a pickle, would we? Well, if it would mean less embaressing stories about me coming up, I'd be tempted...

Althea: It's always a pleasure to read a Sam story..
Merry: And a Merry story...hint hint.
Althea: I like the way you have depicted Sam. He's always busy serving the others and trying to help.
Pippin: I don't know what we'd do without Sam...starve, I think!

TBC...