Chapter 20: Ambushed

The orc party was already waiting for them at Parth Galen. Legolas’ sharp ears picked up on sound a moment before the hobbits did and held out his hand. They all looked around nervously and then Aragorn motioned for the hobbits to move off slightly. Gimli gripped his ax, anxious to put it to good use. Legolas readied his bow. Aragorn and Boromir drew their swords, then with twin cries of "Gondor!" they rushed the area and ambushed the ambushers. It was bloody work for the four and before it was over, Aragorn was nursing a wound to his arm and Boromir’s forehead ran freely with blood which he wiped to keep from running into his eyes. Orc corpses lay thickly on the ground, felled by sword, axe and arrow and several it appeared from no wound but large bruises to their heads from thrown rocks.

"Fourteen," Gimli said proudly, defying Legolas to top him.

The Elf smiled. "That is very good, my friend. It is, however, two less than my sixteen."

The dwarf grumbled something and Legolas laughed lightly.

Merry and Pippin emerged from their hiding place and put back their slings. Their victorious smiles vanished when two Uruk-hai jumped them and a dozen others shot arrows in the direction of the king and his warriors to keep them rescuing the two who fought furiously in their captor’s grip, but could not win free. Gimli rushed toward the hidden orcs and Legolas shot over his head so many more of the enemy were killed, but they still had to watch the hobbits be carried away. Boromir rushed after them with a cry. Gimli raced after him.

From their hiding place, Sam and Frodo frantically watched the ambush. Frodo would have sprung out the instant it had happened, but his stout guardian held him fast. The elder hobbit struggled so furiously in Sam’s arms that the gardener was afraid he would have knock his master out to keep him from following.

"You can’t help them, dear," the younger hobbit said softly, covering Frodo’s mouth when the latter would have called out. He was nearly just as torn as Frodo himself was that the same tragedies seemed to happening all over again. "You’d be captured too and that can’t happen."

Frodo watched helplessly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched his cousins being led away. He sagged against the tree, suddenly drained of energy.

Sam looked at his friend sympathetically, measuringly, then let him go. "I’m so sorry, dear," he said.

"So am I," Frodo said, "more sorry than I can tell you."

"I know, you don’t have to tell me."

Frodo looked up wearily. Sam offered a hand up. "Let’s not make their sacrifice in vain. We’ve got to get away from here before they realize they’ve got the wrong two hobbits again."

Aragorn came up to Frodo and Sam. He was bleeding from fresh wounds, but his features held a grim triumph amid his grief for Merry and Pippin. Frodo looked up him beseechingly. "We’re going to go after them," the king promised. "Boromir and Gimil are even now giving chase."

Frodo nearly collapsed in relief. "Then I will have good news to tell Faramir when we see him. At least that is one good thing that has come of this."

Aragorn smiled, then knelt and gathered the Ring-bearer into a tight embrace which Frodo returned with equal strength. "I wish I could go with you, gwador nin, but..."

"Merry and Pippin need you more," the hobbit said.

"I fear that is so."

Aragorn kissed him on the head, then let go.

He hugged Sam also. "I know you will take care perfect care of my brother, Sam, and I thank you for it. Make sure you take care of yourself as well. Frodo needs you."

"No need to thank me, Mr. Strider. He’s my brother, too."

Aragorn smiled and kissed his head quickly. He looked up and saw Frodo smiling at Sam. He bowed to them both. "Namarie, my friends. May the Valar speed you on your way and the hand of Iluvatar hold you both close."

Frodo and Sam bowed deeply. "The same watch over you, my king and friend so dear, " the elder hobbit said. "And with the rest of the Fellowship."

Aragorn looked at them once more for a long moment. He was worried about Frodo, but he knew he was in even better hands than his. "Until we meet again in Minas Tirith."

"Yes," Frodo said in a strange, distant voice, as though the idea of a happy reunion was not something he truly thought possible, "until then."

Neither Sam nor Aragorn missed the tone of voice and exchanged a concerned look, then the king left. The two hobbits watched until he and Legolas were out of sight, then made their way to the boats.

"I’m glad you aren’t going to be near to drowning this time, Sam," Frodo said.

"I’m glad you realize you aren’t going anywhere without me," the gardener returned, trying to lighten his master’s mood, and was rewarded to see Frodo smile faintly at the light teasing.

He looked back to where his cousins had been taken and said a small, silent prayer for them. Sam squeezed his hand. "They’ll be all right, me dear," Sam said.

Frodo straightened his shoulders and turned to his friend. "Yes, they will be," he said with much more conviction that he had in his own survival, enough, he hoped, to silence the fears in his heart. He hoped Aragorn and the others would find them sooner this time. He got in the boat and Sam pushed off and joined him. It was a long time before Frodo looked away from the shore and joined Sam’s clumsy efforts at rowing.