TRUST

Written for the 2006 birthday of Mews
An AU scene: outside the east gate of Moria

Frodo stumbled again, and would have fallen had the one following close behind him and Sam not rushed forward to steady him.

"Stop, Frodo," their companion said. "You too, Sam. You are both injured and weary, and need tending." He scowled ahead in the direction Aragorn and the others had gone. What if he had not chosen to act as rear guard should the Orcs pursue them through the gates of those ill-fated mines? Was not Isildur's heir attentive to the needs of the Ringbearer and his servant?

"It is all right," Frodo said softly, seeing the his gaze. "Aragorn, too, is weary, but must now lead us as best he can. He only wishes us safely within the Golden Wood."

“Here he comes,” Sam said, relieved to see Aragorn running back to meet them.

"He should not have left you alone," the man insisted, his suspicions about this Ranger of the North not entirely at rest.

"He did not," Frodo said, turning to him. The hobbit's remarkable eyes shone suddenly. "He left us with you.” He suddenly grimaced in pain, his breath growing short.

Frodo was swept up into strong arms. Aragorn arrived and murmured an apology to the hobbits, then lifted Sam gently. Together, the men began to carry the injured hobbits to where the rest of the Fellowship waited.

“Faramir,” Frodo said, laying his head on the man’s chest, “you said at the Council, 'I would not take this thing, if it lay by the highway' -- and you have proven yourself true to your vow. And a... a valiant friend."

“Thank you, Frodo,” Faramir said softly. I will never betray your trust, little one, he thought fervently to himself. I will see you safely to the Mountain of Doom.... and that cursed Ring to its destruction.