Disclaimers: I do not own The Simarillion and The Lord of the Rings. The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings and other Middle-earth works belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers, Turbine and Standing Stones Games. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material—original characters, original locations, etc.—belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.

Inspiration Theme Music for Fanfic: Disney's film, "Prince of Persia" song, "I Remain".

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Sorry for the long delay. I was experimenting and getting me out of my sluggish state with writing! Anyway, I think I've finally figured it out! That said, enjoy! :)

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Frodo gasped. His room! He remembered Rivendell, the Last Homely House. The home of Lord Elrond Half-elven of Imladris. Frodo sighed. Now that he was here, what else could he do? It made no sense that he could go back to the realm beyond the screen.

Frodo looked at the screen, still showing his beloved. He didn't understand. He cared about her, he wanted to see she was doing all right. Maybe he was thinking too much on it.

"Mr. Frodo, I'm here now!" Sam's voice pierced the air. Frodo flinched, determination on his face. Frodo would get him back for this!

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam entered the room, noticing Frodo's snarling pose. "Mr. Frodo, are you alright?"

Grey smoke billowed out from Frodo's nostrils. His inner dragonoid longed to come out. Where he heard this term, he didn't know. He was starting to remember.

"You," Frodo said, quietly, seething. He turned fast on Sam, pouncing on him and drawing him over to a wall, from where Frodo hoisted Sam up into the air. Frodo's eyes turned piercing bright blue and cat-like.

Sam hesitated. This was the last thing this hobbit wanted! "Now, Mr. Frodo, I just want to talk!"

Smoke blew out from Frodo's nostrils. His back tensed, ready for another attack. His bright blue dragonoid claws protruded from his fingertips, ready to strike his best friend down.

"Mr. Frodo, you are no dragon! Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried, his cries piercing. His tears shedding down his face. He didn't want this! What did Mr. Frodo want? "Tell me what you want! I'll do anything!"

Frodo's eyes widened. His cat-like eyes were restored to his hobbit eyes, piercing bright blue, but calming. Frodo set Sam down, his hand jerking away from him.

Sam snarled, pouncing on Frodo. Frodo struggled to break free. He peered up at Sam's ears. No way! Sam's ears were turning wolf-like. No way! It couldn't be!

"Sam, you're a werewolf?" Frodo asked, clasping his best friend's wrist. Sam's wrist grew stronger. "How are you a werewolf? Why is this happening to you?"

Sam looked up at the sky. The silvery full moon had come out to play. Sam snarled, his sharp wolf teeth showing themselves. Sam's eyes turned into yellow wolf-like eyes, his nose and mouth transitioning to a wolf's nose and muzzle. Sam craned up at the ceiling, staring boldly at it in delight.

Sam knew he was a werewolf. He could sense it. Frodo protruded his royal blue dragonoid feet to throw Sam off him. Frodo didn't understand. He was turning more dragonoid, but also, in a way, with some vampire qualities. He could smell blood. Seeping red blood that he craved. The moment he looked up at Sam, the world seemed to turn against them. Frodo's vampiric side faded, leaving him with only a dragonoid side.

Sam snarled a wolfish snarl. He howled. A furry grey tail protruding from his tailbone. It increased in size until it tore apart the back of his dark grey breeches. Sam felt more alive now, but his transformation slowed. His clothes stayed on his body, just as Frodo became a dragonoid with his clothes on. Frodo's hair transformed into black spikes, leaving him with a complete transformation.

Frodo was a dragonoid, as Sam was a werewolf. And yet, Frodo could smell vampire in Sam, too. Frodo smirked, knowing then they were born hybrid creatures.

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Frodo and Sam perched on the balcony in Frodo's bedroom. They had much to discuss. Of course, Frodo could hardly believe Sam had been keeping this secret from him! It was incredible! Frodo really thought Sam had outdone himself! Was this truly the reason why Sam was so reclusive as of late?

"Sam, when did this happen?" Frodo asked, curiously.

Sam shrugged. "Oh, nothing. It happened as soon as you moved between the screens. My memory jogged, and suddenly I realized what a mistake it was sending you to the second and third timelines." He sighed, looking out at the moonlit sky. "I'm terribly sorry for putting you in this dilemma. We really should head back." He walked away from the balcony, determined to find another method of getting him and Mr. Frodo home.

Frodo gazed out at the rushing water below. He had a thought. He looked around, asking Sam, "And go where? You said home, but what do you mean?"

Sam gasped. "Back to our original timeline. I've seen it done before! There's this man named Raulin Clarke. He sent Merlin in to clear out all those item-droppings! He did it, Mr. Frodo! Merlin actually did it!"

Frodo looked at Sam as though he'd gone mad. Just what was he talking about?

"Who says we can't return to our own timeline? Back home? You're healed now! You can come back with me to the Shire, where we can be safe," Sam said, ecstatic.

Frodo shook his head, smirking. "Let's do that!"

"Great!" Sam advanced, snuggling up to him and giving him a great big bear hug! Frodo gasped, as Sam released him, leaving Frodo coughing. "Oh, I'm sorry! I don't know my own strength!"

"That's—all right. I'll be fine," Frodo said, finding his lungs restored. Such wonder it was being a dragonoid. Frodo turned to Sam, asking him, "Sam, do you think we have a life back at home, in the original timeline? Things have changed. I've changed." Frodo lowered his head. How he hated to say those words. He didn't want to leave Sam, but he had to. He had his own destiny to follow.

"Mr. Frodo, if you could, would you finish the story. Get us out of the second and third timelines? It'd be a great boon," Sam said, coaxing his best friend to do this.

Frodo stared at him, wide-eyed with wonder and despair, "And what do you think will happen if we finish the story? Sam! I don't know if I should. I mean," he shrugged, clearly not enjoying himself, "we don't even know what will happen." He paused, giving himself time to think. He closed his eyes, opening them again as he said, "Sam, I can't! My beloved—!"

"Will be fine," Sam said, doing his best to coax Frodo further to finishing the tale. "What do you have to lose?"

Frodo shrugged. He didn't like that answer. "Everything! Sam, you have no idea what you're doing! If I go, what will happen to you? Finish the story, while we're in this timeline? These timelines? We don't know what will happen to us, if I do this! Sam you can't do this! I can't! We can't—" He sighed, a few tears shedding. Anxiety overwhelmed him. He knew he had to do something, but Sam wouldn't let up!

Frodo sighed. He must do this! He feared the worst, but there wasn't really a choice!

Frodo sighed a second time. He nodded, telling Sam, "All right. I'll do this."