em>And so Gollum found them hours later, when he returned, crawling and
creeping down the path out of the gloom ahead. Sam sat propped against
the stone, his head dropping sideways and his breathing heavy. In his lap
lay Frodo's head, drowned deep in sleep; upon his white forehead lay one
of Sam's brown hands, and the other lay softly upon his master's breast.
Peace was in both their faces.
-- The Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien

Each step in this forbidden land was more difficult than the one before it. Sam turned to look at his master and drew in a sharp breath. Dark curls framed a pale white face that in no way resembled the face of the friend he had once known. The innocence he had always loved had been replaced by something darker. He had never thought he would see the day when looking at Mr. Frodo's face would cause him pain rather than pleasure.

"Mr. Frodo, perhaps we should be taking a rest now, if that's all right with you?" Sam watched with relief as the darkness lifted temporarily from the blue eyes and faded to the slight shadow that never seemed to completely disappear.

"That sounds good, Sam. I could use a rest." Frodo stumbled and would have toppled to the ground if Sam had not reached out a steadying hand.

Sam left his hand on Frodo's shoulder a little longer than necessary. He wished that there were some comfort he could give. Anything that would distract Frodo from their bleak surroundings. He tried in vain to think of some joke that Merry or Pippin used to tell that didn't seem completely out of place. He was about to offer to recite the oliphaunt rhyme again when he noticed that that his master's gaze was unfocused, as if he was looking at something that was not actually there. "Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo, Sir. Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. I'm sorry, I..." Frodo's voice faltered as his eyes locked with Sam's. "I guess I do need some rest."

"Here, let me help you." Sam took Frodo's arm and led him off to a slight depression in the ground that was almost hidden in the shadows of a bare rocky bluff. "At least here we'll be mostly out of sight," he decided. Frodo didn't seem to have heard him a all, but appeared to be lost in his own dark world. "Mr. Frodo?" Sam questioned cautiously.

Frodo seemed to shake himself before meeting Sam's gentle gaze. Sam watched as his hand went up to touch the ring he wore around his neck, an ever present reminder of their fear.

"I guess I'm just more tired than I thought, Sam." Frodo's voice held a slight tremor and Sam's heart ached for him. He would give anything if they were both back in the Shire with nothing to worry about except their next meal. The Shire seemed like a dream to him now. Almost unreal in it's simple goodness.

Frodo sat down and leaned against the bluff. Sam watched as he squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to escape from a waking nightmare. Sam's hand's trembled as he began to once again rearrange their meager provisions. He dug out the small supply of food that had been given to them by Faramir and estimated how long it would last. He did the same with the lembas and then checked their water supply. It was not reassuring in any way. He doubted if they could even make it halfway to their destination given the rate at which they were walking.

Sam glanced over at Frodo again and saw that his eyes were open and staring ahead, focused on nothing. Sam shuddered, hating to see his master that way. He pulled himself up and walked over to him. Kneeling by Frodo's side he leaned close and looked into the troubled eyes. "Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo blinked and caught Sam's gaze. Sam watched as a single tear escaped from beneath the dark eyelashes and made a trail down his cheek. Mesmerized, Sam reached out to wipe the tear away and started when Frodo caught his hand, holding it close.

"Sam, I don't know...," his voice trailed off and then seemed to gain strength. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Of course you can. We'll make it, Mr. Frodo. It's just the ring that's making you talk like that."

"But, Sam, surely you have had these doubts as well, and you don't carry the ring."

Sam couldn't deny the truth of that. Instead he leaned closer and touched Frodo's cheek with his rough palm. Despite everything they had been through, Frodo still looked unspeakably beautiful and vulnerable in the worst kind of way. "You aren't alone, Mr. Frodo. We will do this together and we will get through it. Somehow." Sam tried to make his voice sound convincing as he attempted to push away his own fears.

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come, Sam. I would have been doomed to failure before I even began."

"No. You would have found a way."

"Not without you."

"You are stronger than you think, Mr. Frodo." And Sam knew those words to be true.

They were so close now that Sam could feel the undercurrent of warmth he often denied to himself. It made him feel slightly dizzy, as if he couldn't think clearly. The hand holding his gave a slight tremor and Sam fought the urge to bridge the distance between them. Instead he took a deep breath and pulled hastily away. "I best be getting to the watch now. Who knows when that stinking gollum will show itself again." Sam rose and walked a few feet away where he positioned himself next to a large boulder. He failed to see the mixture of confusion and despair on Frodo's face as he sat alone against the rocky bluff.

Sam leaned against the boulder and attempted to even out his breathing. He could still feel his hand against Frodo's face and see the trust in those beautiful eyes. How could he betray that trust by acting on his own selfish desires?

Sam waited at least a half an hour, determined not to approach Frodo and do anything that might cause him more pain. Finally, he allowed himself to glance over to the bluff and saw that Frodo was finally asleep. He walked over to him and allowed himself to examine his friend's face as he slept. He looked peaceful and strangely innocent in the near darkness, his face completely free of any influence from the ring. Frodo was painfully thin, but he was just as beautiful as he had always been. Sam felt the tears begin to well up again as he thought of that innocence lost forever, his friend's chances for happiness taken away. Of all people, Frodo didn't deserve what was happening to him. How strange to think that the only one who could resist the ring's power was the one being who meant everything to him.

Sam sat by Frodo's side, the tears falling freely as he realized that their future seemed more and more bleak every minute. He wasn't sure how long he sat like that, only that it seemed like hours as he tried to keep his mind from falling into despair. He had to be strong if they were ever going to destroy the ring. Finally, he felt exhaustion overcome him, and gave in to sleep.

Suddenly, he awoke in a rush and he looked down to see Frodo thrashing violently in his sleep. Sam felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. Was this nightmare ever going to end? "Mr. Frodo, Mr. Frodo, wake up." He found himself softly speaking his friend's name even though he wasn't sure if waking him up would make any real difference. Surely being awake in this place couldn't be any worse than a nightmare. Sam, you fool, he thought. You can't be thinking thoughts like that if you're going to be strong for him.

"Mr. Frodo, wake up. It'll be all right. Your Sam's here now." Sam spoke more loudly and lay his palm against Frodo's cheek. He watched as the vivid blue eyes fluttered open and met his own.

"Get away from me!" Sam found himself pushed back, his hands scraped raw against the rocky ground. He fought back his shock at the fact that Frodo, his Frodo, had pushed him away. He barely had a moment to register that fact before he noticed that Frodo was bolting, running away into Elbereth knows what danger by himself.

"Wait, Mr. Frodo!" Sam managed to drag himself to his feet and took off after him, desperate to stop him before anything happened. He didn't have to go far. Frodo had stopped running and was standing perfectly still only a few lengths away from where he had been sleeping. He looked pale and ethereal in the moonlight. Sam stopped in front of him, hesitating. Did he even know this elven figure?

Frodo took a step forward and suddenly he was in Sam's arms. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know what came over me." His voice was muffled by Sam's cloak and Sam could feel his trembling through the rough fabric. Just as abruptly, Frodo pulled away. "We should get moving. It will be dawn soon."

Sam looked at the sky and saw that there was the faintest of lights appearing on the horizon. The weak light of the sunrise was nothing in comparison to the darkness of Mordor, where night ruled. He could see no stars. He hadn't seen any since they had arrived in this place. "I don't know where that stinking Gollum is. He should have been back by now." Sam was actually more than happy that Gollum wasn't back, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Apparently Frodo wasn't going to address whatever had caused him to take off running.

"I'm sure he'll come back soon enough, Sam." Frodo's voice sounded weary.

Hours passed and Gollum still didn't return. Frodo and Sam walked steadily on, the kind of walk that was reserved for those who had lost all but a fragile strand of hope. All that remained was the knowledge that they had no choice but to continue.

Sam noticed that even though he kept slowing his pace, Frodo was still trailing behind.

"It's getting upon midmorning now. Maybe we should stop for a quick bite, Mr. Frodo, if you don't mind?"

"No, that's fine, Sam."

Frodo sat down on the ground and put his head in his hands. Sam looked at him worriedly and forced himself not to ask if he was all right. Asking wouldn't do any good; Mr. Frodo was obviously anything but all right. Sam busied himself once again with taking the small amount of food out of the pack and reorganizing their supplies.

"Sam?" A quiet voice stayed his hands as he carefully recoiled the rope. Frodo had risen and had moved to stand next to him. He felt his presence as if a soft breeze had passed by, warming him. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"What are you talking about, Mr. Frodo?"

"I'm sorry that I'm so selfish. I shouldn't have let you come with me."

Heartbeats passed by as Sam tried to decide how to respond. "I love you." Sam watched as a flash of something unreadable passed over Frodo's face.

"What?"

"I love you and I would never in a million years have let you go alone. Begging your pardon, sir, but there's nothing that could have stopped me short of my own death."

"But that's what this is going to lead to, Sam. And it's my fault. I could bear anything but that." Frodo looked slowly away, refusing to meet his eyes.

Sam felt like he was lost. They were both lost and there was no way out of this situation. He couldn't do this alone anymore. If they were going to walk into hell they needed to at least have each other. Moving without conscious thought he closed the small distance between them until they were as close as they could be without actually touching. He could feel Frodo's warm breath against his lips; see the pain that hovered like a mist just behind his bright blue eyes. There was a moment of stillness before Frodo closed the remaining space between them. He pressed his lips to Sam's tentatively, and increased the pressure as Sam responded. Sam's knees weakened as he felt himself clinging to his master to keep from falling. Frodo kissed him harder until lack of oxygen forced them apart, gasping for breath. Sam reached out to pull Frodo to him again, and felt him tremble.

"Mr. Frodo?" He dreaded looking into those eyes. Seeing the pain that would never leave, the shadow of the burden his master wore around his neck.

Frodo didn't answer, but instead pressed his lips against Sam's again, and Sam sensed a change. When Frodo's eyes met his again it was if the mist had melted away. They were shining with something that he recognized as love. Something so strong that it had penetrated the darkness.

"Come on, Sam. I think we should keep going." Frodo reached out his hand and Sam took it, grateful that they were no longer alone.