Chapter 12
They searched the woods all day and well into the night without rest. At first Aragorn tried to keep them all together, but they soon realised that the forest was too large and that they would have to split up and hunt alone.
Darkness fell and Frodo stumbled on, the pain and cold he was feeling driven away by his determination to find his friend. The pull of the ring was growing unbearable, and Frodo knew that Gollum was close.
The hobbit wanted to shout his friend's name, but he was afraid that Sméagol would hear him first, so he blundered silently through the trees, loneliness setting in on his heart and hope beginning to fade.
After what seemed like an age, Frodo staggered into a small clearing, his legs unable to take the strain any longer. He collapsed in the wet grass, feeling the mud on his face as he shivered against the cold.
When a few moments had passed he raised his head and to his astonishment saw a blazing fire only feet away from him. He scrambled quickly to his feet and he detected a motionless figure near the trees behind the fire.
A flurry of hope made Frodo's heart skip and beat and he darted forwards to the figure, recognising the familiar short and stocky siloutte against the flames. However, the hope began to fade as he saw that his friend was completely still, his arms tied to the low branches of the tree so that his feet were slightly above the ground. Frodo ran to his side and worriedly took in Sam's closed eyes, the large purple bruise down one side of his forehead and the dried blood on his cheek.
"Sam!" He said, his voice coming out in no more than a whisper, "Sam! Wake up!"
He urgently whispered his name again and shook his arm vigorously in an attempt to wake him.
"Please...wake up..." Frodo cried desperately, refusing to accept the awful feeling that was in the pit of his stomach.
He sank to the ground at the foot of the tree and tried despondently not to weep.
"Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo started and looked up, and saw Sam squinting down at him, looking drowsy and confused. The hobbit leapt to his feet and stared at his friend.
"Sam, dear Sam," He said, his eyes damp with tears, "I thought..."
He trailed off and closed his eyes, weak with relief.
"Master, what are you doing here? That stinker - he'll be back any minute. He told me you were dead!"
"Well I'm not, I had to find you..."
Frodo gave a faint smile and Sam returned it, the emotion they were feeling completely mutual.
"Come on," Sam said suddenly after a few moments, "Get that knife from over by the fire and cut these ropes."
Frodo quickly retrieved the knife and sliced the rope, leaving Sam free. As soon as he could move his hands, Sam embraced Frodo lovingly.
"Sam, you should never have set out for Mordor," Frodo told him, "It wasn't your place."
"It was Mr.Frodo," Sam said simply, "And I know that you would have done exactly the same for me."
To this Frodo had no answer so Sam said,
"Quick, we've got to go. Gollum could be anywhere-"
The words had barely escaped his mouth before something smashed into his back from behind. Sam plummeted to the ground and landed in the mud, momentarily dazed. Frodo saw that Gollum had leapt on him from the nearby undergrowth but before he could aid his friend in any way, Frodo felt the relentless pain in his heart increase as the presence of the ring finally enclosed him. Hopelessly the hobbit fell to his knees and bent his head to the ground, unable to do anything to prevent the torturous agony from swallowing him into its black, cavernous depths. He called his friend's name with the last ounces of strength that he possessed.
Satisfied for the moment that Sam was unconcious, Gollum picked himself up and crept over to Frodo, running his tongue over his rotten yellow teeth with a ravenous grin. He watched the hobbit as the ring's power tortured him and made him cry out in pain. Sméagol's grin widened as he realised that the hobbit was in no fit state to fight, and that he would be able to draw out the death to the fullest extent without much struggle.
Gollum seized Frodo by his hair and forced the hobbit to look straight up into his eyes. Perspiration trickled down Frodo's forehead and his eyes were cloudy, as if his soul and spirit were fading,
"Nasssty hobbit..." Gollum hissed savagely, his putrid breath on Frodo's face, "Yesss my precioussss...he will be sorry..."
The creature released the grip on the hobbit's hair and laced his wasted fingers around his neck. Frodo choked violently and yelled in anguish as the gold band around Sméagol's finger made contact with his skin and the grip grew tighter. He screwed up his eyes as the grasp on his throat became completely unendurable and death threatened to compass him. With immense fear Frodo felt a terrible and familiar darkness close in on him from all sides...
Then to his disbelief the fingers around his neck loosened and the blackness faded to grey. Trembling in pain and shock, Frodo took deep breaths of air as his vision began to clear and his senses sharpened.
His heart bounded as he saw Sam wrestling determinedly with Sméagol in a fierce battle. Neither of them looked ready to give up.
Acting completely on impulse and because of the love for his friend, Frodo managed to crawl to the foot of the tree and retrieve Sam's small sword. He turned and saw that Gollum had pinned Sam to the ground and was glaring down at him, his shoulders heaving in weariness and murderous glint in his eyes.
Screwing up every last scrap of courage, bravery and loyalty, Frodo leapt at Gollum and sliced the blade deeply into his side. Sméagol yowled in pain and flung out his arm, sending Frodo into a sprawled pile in the mud. Forgetting Sam, Gollum raised the blood stained blade and brought it ferociously down into Frodo's chest, twisting it slowly and watching with insane satisfaction as the last of the hobbit's life was drained and he became completely still.
Sam watched in horror and rage as Sméagol finally enacted his revenge, knowing that there was nothing he could do.
After a few moments Gollum staggered backwards and dropped the dagger before clutching his wound with a miserable cry. Driven by fury, Sam stumbled to his feet and picked up the blade and without stopping to think he thrust it hard into the vile creature's throat.
At last silence settled over the clearing as Sam collapsed on the ground beside his master's body. Sam gently took Frodo's cold hands in his own and through his tears he saw that his master's face was completely white and his eyes were closed. Reminded bitterly of Mordor and Shelob, Sam cradled Frodo's body close, still wanting to protect him and keep him safe. He didn't notice night set in or the cold that began to enclose his body, but he remained sitting on the ground with his master until eventually the weariness overcame him and without knowing it he felt gently to sleep.