His will was set and only death would break it. -RotK

It was the last remnants of the water that remained in the water skins that Faramir had provided. Sam knew that at the end they probably needed little. They were at the foot of the burgeoning and dark mountain; the myths were right- nothing was like the sinister Mount Doom.

He fed his master some water and some more of the precious waybread that they had. The Elvish waybread was growing less and less.  Sam did not feel like he needed it for now.  His master looked worn, didn’t speak, and seemed utterly hopeless.

“Time for another go, Mr. Frodo.”