^{Barren land stretched as far as the eye could see, scattered with low trees twisted and misshapen, reaching out struggling for life. Shrubs thick with brambles and thorns long and coarse, rested along the dry ground covered in rock of all sizes and foul shapes growing over with ill colored mosses, giving home to putrid insects and maggots that bit with aching stings. Sam sighed and turned to Frodo, his legs growing weak and tired under the weight of the ring. He seemed to reach out before him longing to grasp onto something to ease his stride. Sam quickly took him on his arm as they climbed along a narrowing shelf that hung out along a jagged ravine. There seemed to be nowhere to rest, not even for an animal in the festering open country that lay before them. Sam then noted a place ahead, just another few small strides, where a thick curtain of thorny brambles hung down, touching the rock face below. Sam made his way to the brambles, with Frodo still in his grasp.}

^{“I must rest now, Sam.” Frodo said, his voice dry, longing for a bit of water to quench his undying thirst. “I can not go on any further.”}

^{“Just a moment Mr. Frodo sir.” Sam replied. “There is a place just ahead, out of sight covered with a small thicket of brush we can hide beneath, far away from the eyes of Mordor that still linger in the sky.” Soon they came upon the small shelf of rock and Sam reached out pushing the vines of thorns and sharp barbs aside. They tore at his hands and he winched back in pain but he gave them another tug holding them back further as Frodo came down to his knees crawling upon his hands, into the dank secluded hiding place within the walls of rock that surrounded him. Sam followed in turn, letting the long twisted brambles fall behind him watching in silence as they swayed to and fro. Sam brought his pack down from his shoulders and reached inside taking out a small portion of their provisions left to him by Faramir so many days past. Sam ate lightly, giving most to Frodo, objecting quickly when his dear Master held out small slips of cured meat and a palm full of dried fruits.}

^{“Eat your fill Mister Frodo.” Sam said taking a small sip of water as he tore away a small morsel of stale bread from a stiffening loaf that rested in the bottom of his pack. “You need it more so than I.” Sam then passed Frodo a tender smile as Frodo sat in silence for a moment before shaking his head at his dear friend. He placed a piece of fruit into his mouth and chewed slowly taking in its sweet juices as they ran along his parched throat. Frodo then took a sip of water and lay back against the cold rock closing his eyes before opening them again, looking to Sam with dismay.}

^{“Go on now Mr. Frodo, you take your turn first.” Sam whispered. “I will sleep when I can after you have rested your eyes.” A deep sigh passed Frodo’s lips and it seemed before Sam had even finished Frodo had laid himself across the rock shelf, sleeping like a babe within his mother’s arms. Sam’s eyes fell upon his master, watching as he breathed in slowly, his chest rising and falling with each weary breath. Sam then drew his tattered orc cloak away from his shoulders and bundled it beneath Frodo’s head. He did not stir, nor did his eyes flutter. Sam drew his glance to his pack and looked inside. His eyes saddened as he pulled his grey cloak of Lórien from its confines. But a few small lembas littered the bottom of his pack, along with his loaf of aged bread, not even fit for the rodents of Mordor. To the best what was left would last them to their destination, but after then there would be no more. The bitter truth then came to Sam at last. Even if the quest was completed they would be left alone, foodless and waterless, where they would finally starve to death in the midst of the putrid stench of Mordor. Sam then looked to Frodo, his face wet with tears. A faint shine of gold shone between the open collar of his shirt and Sam clutched his fists, angered with the painful end they both would meet.}

^{“Had it not been for the ring, none of this would have ever happened.” Sam thought to himself. “We would both still be in Hobbiton, in the Shire, where the lands grow green and flowers line the garden path. This whole journey was in vain. Just to travel all the way here with him to Mordor and die along his side.” All hope then seemed to fade from his tired heart, and struggling with his own weariness; he crawled from his hiding place, staring out into the darkened night. Sly and creaking noises seemed to fill the air, yet no sound of foot or foul voice was about. Sam shuddered with a slight chill and drew his orc gear closer around his shoulders, holding the bitter night wind at bay. He then drew his eyes high into the sky, and for a fleeting moment, shining out from the dark clouds above, a small white star shone brightly and then faded just as quickly as it appeared. Sam’s heart beat loudly, for the beauty of that moment bore deep into his heart. Perhaps even in times covered in the darkest of shadows a light of hope could still shine through. For that moment, his own fate and even the fate of his master’s ceased to trouble him. A faint smile fell upon his face and he turned back to the brambles and laid himself at Frodo’s side. With a trembling hand he reached out and took Frodo’s hand into his own clasping it tightly. Frodo’s palms were rough and ragged, etched with mars and cuts from the rock and brush in the valley below. Sam pressed Frodo’s hand to his dry lips and kissed it gently before drawing Frodo’s hand close to his breast where he held it within his own two hands. There he lay silent, long into the night, holding onto the hope that had found a way back into his heart, before he too finally lost himself within a peaceful sleep.}