Title: Taking Care Author: ripleynikki Email: hisstah@aol.com Pairing: Frodo/Sam Summary: Sam has a slight mishap, Frodo learns a thing or two. Disclaimer: I make no money from this, Tolkien owns these characters. "Take care, Sam!" Frodo's hissed words echoed off the ragged and loose volcanic rock of the ravine as he peered down the cliff. Sam had tied the elven rope to a nearby boulder in order to scale the distance to the bottom of the ravine. Gollum had sworn on the Precious that this was the last barrier in Emyn Muil before the dead marshes. He had then quickly scuttled down the cliff and gully, saying he would scout the paths ahead and come back before dawn, leaving the two of them to make it on their own with the aid of "that nassty, cruel Elf rope". Sam had muttered darkly at Gollum's announcement and chose to descend first, after lowering the packs to the ground below. This cliff really wasn't that high, thought Frodo- at least it didn't seem as high as that awful first one, but it was still plenty high enough. His fear of heights came back full force, creating a knot in his belly and taking his breath away. He had never liked heights much and when younger, would sometimes freeze in place while climbing trees with the other hobbit children. He never understood why that happened: his muscles would simply lock up, unpredictably, stranding him clutching the tree branches in a death grip, much to his chagrin and the amusement of the other hobbits who had no such handicap. It had not happened to him in years and he had almost forgotten about it, but after the fright he had taken during the last disastrous cliff climbing session, combined with that dramatic storm and horrid Nazgul rider, his fear had resurfaced. He did his best to control himself and continued to watch Sam descend. It also didn't help his nerves that Sam did not appear to be taking as much care as Frodo felt this precipice deserved. Sam had looped the rope around his waist and between his legs in a complicated way that let him rappel smoothly down the jagged rock face. Frodo watched with trepidation, but also admiration as Sam worked his way down the cliff. Sam was exceedingly sturdy and clever. Others thought him simple and dull, but one thing this journey had taught Frodo, was that Sam was much, much more than that. "Still waters run deep" was an old saying that applied to his dearest friend, Samwise Gamgee. And when had "dearest friend" replaced "friend"? Frodo sat back from the edge and took a fond moment to wonder at that. He couldn't rightly recall and was it really that important? He decided to set the thought aside to bring out later to examine more thoroughly. This was not the time or place for woolgathering--not that he could do much of anything but worry right now. He looked up at the night sky. The moon was waning-it would be dawn soon. It had taken much cajoling and argument to convince Gollum that walking at night with no moon was much too dangerous on this uneven volcanic terrain. He had only reluctantly agreed to limited travel under the white face when Sam finally threatened him with Sting. Gollum had stuck to the shadows and skulked along until they arrived at this cliff, muttering and hissing under his breath all the way. "Don't you worry none, Mr. Frodo, I'm doin' just fine." Frodo was brought out of his musings as Sam spoke. He carefully peeked over the edge again to see how far Sam had progressed-he didn't have too much further to go, maybe another dozen feet. Suddenly Sam lurched sickeningly downwards with a cry. The rope was slipping! How could that be? It was an Elven rope! Frodo lunged desperately for the quickly disappearing length, horrified as he realized what was happening. Heart in his throat, he managed to catch the rope in his left hand just as it slipped by, not thinking about how close he was to the edge or Sam's considerable hobbit- weight. The rope twisted around his left wrist as if it were a live thing. Sam's plunge was halted momentarily as he twisted in the air and hit the rock wall with a loud "Oof!" Sharp pain shot up Frodo's shoulder as it was nearly wrenched out of the socket by the heavy weight of the sturdy hobbit. Pulled forward, he scraped his hands and fingers on the rocky ground as he was dragged toward the edge. Just in time the rope ripped away, causing painful friction burns. Sam didn't utter another sound as he hit the ground. "SAM!" The frantic cry echoed and boomed through the ravine and back at Frodo, confusing him. He hardly felt the pain of the shoulder and hands as, realizing his precarious position, he pushed back away from the edge of the cliff. Frodo panted in terror but immediately reversed course and scrabbled forward on his belly to look over again. He could barely see-- Sam had landed on his back, but the shape of the rock formation hid his head and shoulders. A very limp left arm was visible, tangled up with the rope. "Sam!? Are you all right? Say something, talk to me, please!!" There was no answer. The only sound was the soft sighing of the wind as it rushed through the rocks and hills. "Gollum! Where is he?" Frodo's' thoughts raced frenetically. He was already down there somewhere! Maybe he would help by throwing the rope back up so Frodo could get down. But there was no sign of him anywhere. Frodo was afraid to call out again for fear the echoes might bring something even worse than Gollum. He realized suddenly that, even if he were present, the creature would not touch the rope let alone toss it up to him. Despair hit him. Frodo began to tremble with reaction and adrenalin. His mind seemed to go blank-what was he to do? "I must get to Sam-he could be hurt badly-even dead--and then what would I do? How can I possibly go on without him?" His stomach clenched with dread and he felt sick. The fears and doubts created by his burden and the uncertain fate of Middle Earth suddenly seemed small and insignificant compared to his concern for the life of this one small, simple hobbit, his friend. He had to get to Sam. "I will do it. I have to get down this cliff face somehow." Quickly as he could, he looked for hand and toe holds. Thankfully there were plenty still visible in the fading moonlight. He hitched over the edge, feeling for the toeholds, finding them. He looked down for more. A sharp stab of fear pulsed through his body. "Breathe," he thought. "Don't be an ass. Sam needs you. Keep going." He found more holds and began to descend. The rock wall bulged outward about halfway down-he needed to work his way around. Looking down he realized he could now see Sam's face--was that a shadow beneath his head-or was it blood? His breath caught in his throat and his left arm, wrenched by the rope and already weaker than the right from the Morgul blade wound, began to tremble. His peripheral vision vanished and all he could see was Sam-lying in what looked like a pool of blood. He tried to continue his climb down but suddenly his muscles froze-"Oh no!" he wailed to himself. "I can't move! Not now!" He closed his eyes and a small whimper escaped his lips. The instant he shut his eyes, a sharp, vivid memory bloomed in Frodo's' mind. He was high in Hobbiton's tallest oak tree-higher than he had ever climbed before. Frodo had wanted to go to the tree house built at the top of the oak. He was relatively new at Bag End and was trying hard to fit in with the others. A group of children were standing below looking up; others were in the tree house looking down. He was blocking everyone from either descending or climbing because he had frozen in fear. He couldn't move, no matter how hard he tried. The other children mocked and laughed, which made it worse. His eyes began to smart with tears of frustration and humiliation. Unexpectedly, there was a hand on his shoulder. Young Samwise was on the branch behind him. Voice trembling, Frodo managed to speak. "Hullo, Sam-lad. I seem to be in a bit of a fix here." Sam smiled kindly, talking to him softly and slowly. "Mr. Frodo, there 'aint nothin' to be afraid of in this here tree. Which way do you want to go, up or down?" "Up, Sam, I want to see the tree house." "All right, then, just let go of the branch. Here, that's good, just give me your hand. Your Sam will take care of you. One step at a time, Mr. Frodo. We'll get there. And then we'll get you back down, one step at a time." Trembling, hanging tight onto the rocks, the answer to his woolgathering question occurred to him all at once- Sam had always been Frodo's dearest friend. He was only now beginning to understand the total depth of that friendship. "What an inconvenient place for an epiphany," Frodo thought, "but I'll take what I can get." Forcing his eyes open, he took a deep, determined breath. Deliberately, one step at a time, Frodo made it down the rest of the rock wall to Sam. Sam was breathing rather heavily when Frodo reached him-his left arm, tangled in the rope, rose and flopped toward his face. Almost fainting with relief, Frodo quickly grabbed both packs and set them to either side of Sam's head to prevent him from moving. He knelt at the top of his head and held it steady until Sam's eyes focused. It was hard to be sure, but both pupils looked equal. He could see there were no unnatural twists to the arms and legs but he would make certain later. Sam seemed to be breathing well, just a bit raggedly. Probably just knocked the wind out of him, and hopefully there were no ribs broken. Frodo had learned something about treating injuries from Bilbo and from his readings about Elvish medicine-he had always enjoyed those books almost as much as the poetry. Aragorn and Elrond had taught him much more and he knew with dread that Sam could have injured his spine. He need to make sure before he let him move. Sam took a deep breath as Frodo looked anxiously into his face. "Hullo, Mr. Frodo. What are you doing? Why are you holding my head?" With that, Sam tried to get up. "No you don't Sam, you stay put! I need to make sure you're not hurt." "Nonsense, Mr. Frodo, I'm fine. Just hit me head, I'll be right as rain in a moment." Indeed there was a knot and some blood on the left side of Sam's head, just behind the ear, but no blood on the ground. Frodo damned his fertile imagination but was grateful it was wrong this time. He felt the bruised area gently and it seemed intact if a bit swollen. Sam tried again to sit up. "I mean it, you hold still Samwise Gamgee-if you try to move your head again or get up before I tell you, I will pluck each and every hair from both feet and all your toes, one by one!" Frodo growled fiercely. Sam's eyes opened wide and his eyebrows arched up in surprise. "Yes sir, Mr. Frodo, no disrespect intended sir." "Fine. Now squeeze my hand-ouch! Not so hard! Now, your other hand. Good! Can you move your legs and feet? Wiggle your toes. Does your neck hurt when I do this? For pity's sake don't shake your head, just say yes or no! Does it hurt to breathe? No? Good. Let me check your back. How about when I press here? Or here? Well and good, everything seems to be fine. You can sit up now but go slowly or I will start plucking!" Frodo helped Sam sit up and made him lean back against his chest, ignoring the stiffening and protesting muscles in his left arm and shoulder. He rummaged in the packs beside him and pulled out a scrap of cloth. Wetting the cloth with cold, clean water, he began to wash the clotted blood away from the knot forming at the back of Sam's head. "Well it's a good thing that you only hit your head, Sam, and not injured something important," Frodo said crossly. "Still I was rather worried that you lost consciousness for so long... How long was it? Hmmm." Frodo looked up at the sky, thinking hours must have gone by while he wrestled with his fears on the rock face. However, it seemed that the moon was in the same position-how could it have been only minutes? But it was. He drew a deep breath and relaxed for the first time in what seemed like years, tension running out of him like water. He felt like crying. "To tell you the truth, my Gaffer always did say my head was the thickest, densest part of me." Sam sounded chagrined and Frodo laughed. "For once, I am extremely glad to not to have to contradict your Gaffer." Frodo held the cool cloth to Sam's head and wrapped his right arm around Sam's chest to hold him closer. Sam sighed and finally spoke up. "Beggin' yer pardon, but what exactly happened and how in the world did you get down that cliff?" Frodo laid his cheek against the top of Sam's head and felt his heart clench with remembered terror. He fought it down and tightened his arm around Sam's chest. "The rope slipped or broke somehow and you fell, Sam. I had to climb down without it." "Oh. But, I checked that knot at least twice!" "Then it must have broken, Sam." Sam picked up the Elven rope and took a look at it in the dimming light. The knot tied by Sam was intact. "This part near the knot looks strange", he said as he peered closely at it. "The threads look like somethin' ate 'em!" Sam handed the rope to Frodo who also examined it. "Well, my word-the rope looks corroded! Hmmm, you know, maybe it's where Gollum bit the rope after you tied his ankle!" "I'll be...you're right, Mr. Frodo. Looks like the Elf rope didn't like that sneak Gollum anymore than he liked it! Just dissolved away from his spit! Bless me, I never heard of no such thing!" "I guess we're learning all sorts of new things on this journey, Sam. I know I've learned a thing or two..." As his voice trailed off, Frodo frowned and thought deeply. "What do you mean, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked quietly, sounding perplexed. Frodo raised his head and gazed into the pre-dawn darkness. Gollum would be finding a place to hole up out of the daylight soon, if he didn't show within the next hour. Frodo took a deep breath and spoke softly in response to Sam's question. "I've learned many lessons over the last few months and I've been thinking long and hard about them. I've faced horrors and dreadful things; the likes of which I never imagined could have existed. We've both overcome terrors, pain and hardship, incredible loss and grief. We are doing this to save all of Middle Earth from a ghastly, dark fate, and our journey is only just beginning. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I suspect things will not get easier, only more difficult and awful as we continue. I realized that I do have a choice about this-and I have chosen to go on and learn to face my fears, real and imagined, in order to reach my goal. I think this is a lesson everyone must learn, regardless of their quests in life." Frodo was silent for a time, and then smiled wryly. "Bilbo used to tell me that you can't choose the family you're born into. I think he was referring specifically to Lobelia and Otho, by the way." Sam chuckled, knowing full well how Bilbo felt about the infamous Sackville-Baggins clan. "But you can certainly choose your friends. Choose wisely, he'd say. Tonight I had the most important lesson of all. I just discovered in my heart what it is that has helped me face these fears and continue on in spite of so much despair. Over the course of this journey I have slowly learned, to my surprise, the depths of my love for my friends, my chosen family. I have decided that I must be sure to tell my friends how much I love and care for them when I can and not to put it off, because life can be snatched away in a heartbeat. I never told Gandalf how dear he was to me and now it's too late. I didn't get the chance to tell Pippin and Merry that I love them before I left, or the others how much they meant to me. I may never get that chance." He sighed sadly. "Now I've nearly lost you twice within a few days. This journey may be the death of you-maybe the both of us. The guilt of that tears me apart sometimes. I'm ashamed that I haven't told you before this how very important you are to me, how much I love you. I know for a fact that I have often taken you for granted and it shames me even more. Your devotion, honesty, courage and determination have carried me through so much and I suspect you will continue to care for and protect me as long as you have breath in your body. You amaze me. I often wonder why you look out for me, serve me, take care of me...and what do I do for you? I can't honestly think of a thing." Frodo sighed again, bowing his head and resting his cheek in Sam's hair, rocking him slightly. Sam sat quietly listening while Frodo spoke. Only the side of his face was visible to Frodo in the dim light. Suddenly he turned in Frodo's arms, catching him unaware, and hugged him fiercely around the neck. "You have always given me your respect, love and friendship, Mr. Frodo. That's the best, truest thing any person can give another," Sam whispered into Frodo's ear. "You're not the only one who made choices. I take care of things and do things for you because I choose to. I chose to make a promise never to leave you and to come with you. Friends-family-just do things for each other and there's no keepin' score, if you follow me. That's what real love is. You didn't have to tell me that you love me, I always knew. But it's nice to hear, so I'll tell you too. I love you, Mr. Frodo. There 'aint no place else I'd rather be than with you." Frodo held Sam tightly, tears falling silently down his cheeks as he pressed his face into Sam's hair and kissed his cheek. The sky was beginning to brighten and a knot in his chest that he didn't even know was there began to loosen. Frodo's' thoughts had a clarity and serenity he had not known for a long time as he thought to himself, "Still waters certainly do run deep in this one. I am glad you are with me because you give me the strength to go on. Please take care Sam. I hope you know I'll do my poor best to take care of you, too."