Keeper of the Jewels

[rabidsamfan]

Belegcuthalion's wonderful Sam-napping is up to chapter 7!

http://belegcuthalion.livejournal.com/101640.html

Go! Read! It's a great chapter, especially for Frodo fans, I'm sure. But oh, oh, oh! Sam and Aragorn are for it now!

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

I SO LOVE IT

[mariole.livejournal.com]

Sam-napping! Oh, I wish I had more time to read! *puts it on the list*

[lame-pegasus.livejournal.com]

Me too!

*still keeps your Sam-adventure on her reading list*

[periantari.livejournal.com]

oh yeah that anonymous was me...
i was too excited.... :P

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

LoL! Yup, but it's worth being excited about!

[lame-pegasus.livejournal.com]

I started writing yesterday evening, and this is the beginning of chapter 8 (completely unbeta-ed yet, of course, but enough to show you the way we are going...):
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He was back in Mordor again. The sharp rocks kept shaking beneath his body, the air was heavy with sulfur and singed his lungs with every laborious intake of breath. Behind him the dying mountain roared its mindless rage into a blackened sky, and the smoke made him double over in an endless coughing fit. He wiped the tears from his eyes, a dull pain in his chest. Where was Mr. Frodo…?

Sam moaned.

In a small, clear corner of his clouded mind he still knew that this was not Mordor. He knew that he was alone, chained with one wrist against the wall of a dark, foul place. Mr. Frodo was nowhere near (at least he supposed so, for he still didn’t have the slightest idea where on earth his abductors had brought him), and he lay in this unknown dungeon, guarded by his two watchdogs and that tall, frightening fellow with the eagle-like nose and the white hair.

He turned his head to the jar the Grinner had brought him earlier this day. He couldn’t reach it with the handcuffed arm, but he could at least make another attempt with his free hand. In a way he was happy that the candle had gone out hours ago, and that he could barely see anything in the near darkness of the room. His wounded fingers were not a pleasurable sight, not at all. The phalanxes of both his ring- and third finger were swollen to double size, making them look like tightly stuffed red sausages. He couldn’t flex them without giving a miserable whimper of agony, and the smallest touch against the inflamed flesh made his head spin and fill with a lazy, feverish fog. He crawled in the direction of the jar, the chained arm stretched in a painful angle, and then he touched the clay vessel.

It felt as if a white hot blade cut his fingers right to the bone, and he fell flat on his face, grinding his teeth in helpless anguish. He didn’t want to cry for help, he didn’t want that white-haired fellow to come into the room, to bow over him, to tell those two others to finally wring his neck.

(...)

I promise I'll write as fast as I can.*grins*

[surgicalsteel.livejournal.com]

Oh. My. Fantastic.

[periantari.livejournal.com]

::dies::
omg the angst...wow :*(
please rescue soon!
wow what a tidbit~ thanks so much for sharing.

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

Gggggghhhghghhghhggghhhh....

I trust you'll eventually give us some comfort to go with the hurt!

Is it terrible of me to say how much I love this story? I mean, Sam is in real danger here! But oh, oh, oh, I don't think I could ask for one which hit all my buttons better!

[lame-pegasus.livejournal.com]

Voilà (and this will be the very last spoiler):

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(...)

“That’s an eye opener, and no mistake! --- How did you call yourself?” Sam shook his head in wonder, regretting the movement at once; it felt as if his brain swashed from the left side of his skull to the right and back, nearly making him throw up. Aragorn looked down at him and his hard gaze softened visibly.

“Some day I’ll tell you more,” he said gently. ”You’ve already heard too many of my names to keep them all in your mind, and the last thing you need right now is yet another one. First let me take you out of here, and then we will turn to new names, old tales, unknown enemies and everything else.”

Sam’s cheek sank against Aragorn’s chest, and for a few peaceful moments there was nothing else than the fast, regular steps of the man who had come to find him. Sam didn’t waste any thought at the overwhelming fact that the King of Gondor had left behind wife, realm, subjects and duty to run to his rescue. Shame, embarrassment and sheer disbelief would certainly come later (and the imagination of everything the Gaffer might have to say to the whole matter, too). Right now he was simply thankful.

(...)

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The entire tale was writtem to please two of my dearest friends, and you are one of them. *smiles* I'm very thankful that I actually managed to hit all the right buttons!