~Mordor~

The air about is as hot as fire, yet I am still cold here in the dark. I see the wheel of fire before my closed eyes, see it’s burning flames, yet I am still shivering. I feel alone and frightened here in the dark of Mordor. The task is too large for a hobbit, they say. I am beginning to believe them, and yet I must do as best I can. I can hear the voice of the Ring in my head telling me I will still fail.

Then suddenly, I feel a hand about mine, and hear Sam’s voice mumbling, yet drowning out all other voices. He lies beside me and pulls me closer, warming me in his arms, curling his body around my back, trying to comfort me in this endless nightmare.

“I’m sorry I left my blanket now, Mr. Frodo,” he says. “But I’ll try to keep you warm. You just fall back asleep.”

I lay back into his arms, and smile a little. “Thank you Sam,” I whisper, closing my already heavy eyelids, and slipping into darkness once more.

~The End~