Pairing: Frodo/Sam

Summary: Frodo and Sam continue their journey to Mordor but they will face more than the lure of the Ring. This can be read as a continuation of my story, "Just for a Moment" or can stand alone.

Disclaimer: Needless to say, these characters belong to Tolkien (except for the obvious original character). No profit is made, nor offence intended.
Rating: PG-15, Angst, UST, some violence
Feedback: Always appreciated - perhobfan@yahoo.co.uk

AN: This story deviates from both book and movie cannon but its only a little detour along the way.

Part 2

Sam flung aside his blanket and rubbed sleep from his eyes. Much as he loved Frodo, and love him he did, this constant wandering was wearisome and he was so very tired. How long had his master been gone? Minutes, hours? Surely he could not have slept for long without his companionable presence, without Frodo by his side?

He scanned the horizon but saw nothing. Annoyance and weariness were replaced instantly by cold, sharp fear. Where was Frodo? Would that he were Strider, able to read the ground and unravel its mysteries, would that any of the Fellowship were here right now. What a fool he was, stupid gardener of the Shire, to believe he could protect the Ringbearer, what was he thinking?

Sam set off, heading east though his logic in choosing that particular direction over any over was woolly to say the least. Instinct just told him that Frodo had wandered east before, perhaps guided by the Ring, so it was as good a choice as any. The pale sun was now warming the land and the day promised fairer than yesterday, though every day in this inhospitable place was purgatory. After a few minutes trudging, Sam found himself at the top of a slope of shale and was able to see for some distance in all directions. He shielded his eyes and stared, willing Frodo to appear before him. He did not.

The Captain sat alone.

His company were eating, raucous and in high spirits, around their campfire but he did not share their joy. The Captain was a thinker.

A scuffle broke out among the company over allocation of food, and there was the implicit threat of violence but that was commonplace and soon passed over, the strong subjugating the weak, as was the way of things.The Captain held the company in disdain, they were rabble, ignorant and low, and they did not think. Sometimes, the Captain believed himself to be alone in the world, apart from other Orcs yet part of them. Why he felt this way he could not have articulated but felt it he did. And he felt alone.

He watched his soldiers squabble over their rations and boast about their promotions and bounty to be had on completion of their mission, and he felt a desire to laugh. Why could he see the way of things so differently to them, why should that be?

He stretched and turned his attention from the Orcs to the prisoner.

The halfling lay bound by his arms and legs, tethered to a stake in the ground in the lea of a rock, six feet from where the Captain lay. He was quiet and still, though the Captain knew he was awake.

The image of the halfling, alone and afraid, suddenly surrounded by Orcs, was seared into the memory of the Captain. He played with the image over and over in his mind. The clarity of it surprised him, as did his reaction to it. Moonlight bathing the little one, picking out bright eyes, the halfling afraid but trying desperately to draw his sword, the sword being batted out of his hand with ease, the halfling knocked to the ground, dazed.

"Shall we seek out the other one?" asked one of the company, drooling in anticipation of bloodletting. They knew this was the one they sought, knew it simply by observing the two halflings for the past few hours, how this one was somehow revered and protected by the other. They could easily afford to kill that one, have some fun and dispatch him. The prize was this runt, though why Saruman wanted him was nobody's business save Saruman's, and the Captain's, of course.

"Leave him be, he can do nothing," said the Captain, quietly, and the others knew better than to defy him, though their hearts cried out for blood and play, and some muttered misgivings about their fierce, strange Captain.

The Captain himself had hefted the struggling prisoner onto his shoulder and strode off, followed by the company. The Orcs were excited and eager to reap the rewards they had been promised in Isengard, but the Captain was quiet as he steadied his bundle on his broad shoulder.

And now dawn was breaking and the company were dozing by the embers of their fire and the Captain and the halfling were wide awake, each very aware of the other.

The Captain rose, stretched and strode over to the prisoner, peering down at the dark head and slender frame. He tested the bonds that cut into the soft flesh, and turned the halfling over onto his back. For a long moment he stared into the eyes of the prisoner, though what he sought in them he could not have said. But for a brief moment, in the dawn of a land far from home, he was not alone.