No Way Out

***in this chapter time goes by rather quickly, the orcs are starting to get worried about what Sauron will do if he finds that this prisoner is not eating, drinking, doing much of anything on his own, and so come up with the only solution they can, and they bring Sam up to visit Frodo. If you like this chapter please review, for i wont know if there are readers out there who are enjoying this story and reading it if you dont, and if no ones reading it, then theres no point in continuing on is there?***


Things remained the same for the next few days, accept the orcs seemed to be getting more anxious, and they shoved more food down his throat when they fed him. He was sleeping most of the time, and when he was awake, the only signs that he was awake, were his open eyes, and his breathing changed slightly, in a way barely noticeable.

He was sure that by the end of this week he would disappear into nothingness, and was quite happy with that idea, when the door was unlocked and opened. Frodo had learned the times between which the orcs came to check on him, and this was not the right time, but he cared little.

He heard, barely audible footsteps as someone entered the prison... these were not orc footsteps... then what? A man perhaps? He found he could not place the footsteps to a creature after being in here so long, and found that he did not care much was was that way about alot of things: sounds, food, shapes. He hears a loud thud as something heavy hit the ground, right after the footsteps stopped, and he assumed that whatever it was had been pushed in, but he did not look up.

The orcs were muttering... Frodo was surprised that he could make it out as threats, though he could not make it clearly, just that it was a threat, and not directed at him. Odd. Who else would they be threatening up here? This caused Frodo to pull out of his trance like state a little, though he did not wish to, he saw the orc leaving. Just as he was about to close the door, he cast a glance back at Frodo. It was full of hate, and anger, clearly he thought Frodo more work than he was worth, and Frodo thought that the orcs were making it alot harder to fade, and wanted them to leave him alone.

The door closed and then the lock snicked, and for a minute it was quiet. Then Frodo hear a shuffling sound, and assumed that whoever it was was crawling towards him. He then heard a voice he had not heard in a long time. A voice he had thought lost forever. A voice he almost couldn’t recognise.
‘Mr. Frodo!’ Frodo blinked. Sam? He thought. No it couldn’t be, Sam would be dead by now. He was imagining things. Dreaming. He closed his eyes.
‘Mr. Frodo m’dear!’ He was being lifted in his dream. He cursed silently at the dream, for not only had it interrupted his attempt at fading away, but it was so real that he almost wanted to cry, to cling to Sam as though he were a lifeline. Rest his head in Sam’s lap, and let Sam sooth his worries, the way they used to. He closed his eyes to the mirage before them, and began to allow himself to be sucked back into the darkness, put the memories of his life out of his mind, and escape from reality. But it was not working. He could not get rid of the feel of this dream, the sound of it... it was so real... but so fake and far away.

Frodo felt something wet hit his cheek, and opened his eyes, assuming that the orcs had come back to give him some water or some such. But there was no orcs. He was alone in his prison. No. Not alone. Sam was still here. This couldn’t be right, the dream should have left by now, left him alone with the darkness. But the dream had not left him, it was still there as real as ever, and Frodo almost thought it was real. But the dream was crying. Why was it crying? He reached up his arm, which was stiff and sore from not moving for so long, and with his hand, lightly brushed away the tears on Sam’s face.

Sam opened his eyes, looking slightly startled, but that quickly changed to relief, and he held Frodo closer to him. Sam gently placed a kiss on his masters forehead, and in that moment, Frodo was certain that it was not a dream. Sam was here with him, by his side again. He starred up at the face hovering over him, and was surprised when he felt the corners of his mouth trying to lift in a smile.

A smile. It had been so long since he had given one of those, let alone seen one. The closest thing had been the orcs jeers, and they had stopped doing that quite some time ago. Frodo felt the corners of his mouth lift slightly, before dropping back down to the way they normally were. A line, between a frown and a smile. It was not really an expression, but just a position of having his face, since he still had one and it had to be in a position of some sort, so he allowed it to change as it willed, as long as it did not distract him, or take to much effort, and so it usually stayed blank, with no readable expression on it. Sam had smile back at him, saying ‘Oh Mr. Frodo.’ and more tears had poured down his face.

This confused Frodo, and he did not understand what he had done that was so wrong and upsetting to make Sam so upset with him. He reached up his hand again, and brushed away Sam’s tears, and Sam, having lifted Frodo into a sitting position, buried his head in Frodo’s shoulder. They seemed to have traded places, or so Frodo found it. Though Sam was still the one holding him, Sam was now the one crying helplessly, looking for comfort from his friend, though not asking for it, and Frodo was the one giving the comfort. *My dear Sam.* He thought. He might have spoken it, but he had lost the will to talk long ago, and his throat was dry and raspy, so he doubted held hld have if he had wanted to. *It’s alright, I’m here for you. Your Frodo is here.*