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Story Notes:
Seeing as this has proved to be quite popular, I've decided to publish this one fpr Fellowship of the Ring and in the future write more, to cover the other two books.

I hope you enjoy this! Reviews are extremeley welcome! :D
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sam finds himself with a difficult task on his hands.
1: The man you mistrusted is actually the King…

All the way from Bree, Sam wondered about the mysterious man they were now following to lead them to Rivendell. If Mr Frodo trusted him, Sam would too – at least, he would appear to; but Sam still had misgivings about this so-called Ranger.

So, he had a sword and he had quoted part of a poem from Gandalf. But who was he? He hadn't really explained and Sam didn't like that. When he did something he liked to know exactly what it was he was doing and why; just because this man had told them to trust him didn't necessarily mean they should.

But Mr Frodo was willing to accept this man's authority, so Sam kept quiet and did as he was told. He tried to talk as little as possible to the man, but watched him closely throughout their journey to check for any sign, even the tiniest, of treachery or traps. Admittedly so far his observations had been fruitless, and Strider appeared to be innocent, but Sam would keep his eye on him anyway. Never did anybody any harm to take precautions.

When Frodo was stabbed on Weathertop, Sam was certain Strider was behind it all, but when he came running to defend them from the terrifying black shadows chasing them and who wounded his master, Sam had to put paid to that idea.

Strider did seem incredibly desperate to get Frodo to Rivendell fast after that, and Sam approved mightily; but still he was not willing to put complete faith in Strider just yet. Sam agreed that they must make all haste to Rivendell - anything to save Frodo; but there was a little niggling doubt that remained in Sam's brain.

That nugget of doubt grew when Strider met an elf on the road and conversed with him easily in a tongue Sam could not understand. How could he do that? He was a man, not an elf. Where in all of Middle-Earth had he learned to speak Elvish?

Suddenly Strider had walked over to Bill the pony, where Frodo lay, groaning in pain and discomfort, and was lifting him carefully off and passing him to this stranger, who seated him on his great white horse. What was he doing? Who was this elf and why was he taking Frodo away?

Sam called out, desperate to stop this treachery.

'Hoi, Strider! What are you doing? Who is he and why has he got Mr Frodo?'

'Hush, Sam, it is for the best. Glorfindel knows what he is doing. Frodo must reach Rivendell before it is too late.'

'But how will he get there any quicker-'

'Samwise, elven horses ride much faster than Bill could, and we are being pursued. Frodo must get away.'

Sam could feel himself becoming frustrated. He could see the reasoning behind Strider's words but the fact he was being taken away from Sam – he couldn't forgive Strider for that, even if it did make sense.

The elf tapped his horse's flank and muttered something in Elvish. The horse abruptly began to run, swifter than anything Sam had seen before. Tears were stinging his eyes but he forced himself to make look straight into the Ranger's eyes.

'Will he be safe?' he asked.

'I hope so,' came the reply.

o.O.o

Sam waited by Frodo's side for him to wake up, in a chamber at Rivendell. Sam had grudgingly accepted the fact that Strider had been right, but his main concern was Mr Frodo. Sam waited and watched, until finally one morning when Sam entered his room, Frodo was awake and Gandalf was talking to him.

Overjoyed, Sam rushed into the room and joyously greeted his master. Frodo looked wan and pale, but Sam had no doubt that here in the beautiful grounds of Rivendell his master would recover. Eventually Frodo was well again, although the healers said the wound he had received at Weathertop would never fully heal. When Frodo was summoned to a secret council, Sam knew it would be about the Ring, and would therefore concern his master closely. Silently, he secreted himself in a corner behind a tall statue of an elven maiden.

His muscles became stiff as he sat there, crouched and hunched, and before long they started to protest at this continued torture. Ignoring the pain, Sam's ears pricked up when he heard Strider mentioned – although his name was really Aragorn. Sam listened in disbelief as it was revealed that Aragorn was the heir of Isildur, the High King of Gondor who had cut the Ring from Sauron's very hand.

It couldn't be. Strider? That meant he was technically the king, of some far-off city Sam knew nothing about, but the fact remained that the man Sam had resolutely not trusted throughout their journey, in his humble attire and unshaven appearance, was royalty.

Sam could not believe it. He would have to apologise to Aragorn, and that was going to be a sticky situation, and no mistake.
Chapter End Notes:
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