Disclaimer:I do not own anything related to Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings.
A/N: I have no idea what I was thinking while I was writing this story. Came up with the idea after almost making a typo. Written for Bedelia, who is full of pure awesome. Thanks for reading!
Ron frowned as he took in his surroundings. He appeared to be ambling through a thick forest, tripping constantly on uneven ground that was riddled with large rocks, fallen branches, and rabbit holes. He had no idea where he was, or how he had even gotten there. The last thing he remembered, he was sitting in the kitchen with Harry and Hermione and now he was here…wherever 'here' was.
He continued to trip and stumble his way through the thick forest, grateful for the tiny bits of sunlight that forced itself through the gaps in the trees. Had it been dark, he would've given up trying to get out of there long ago. He knew he could have disapparated, but he didn't have his wand with him.
"Typical," he muttered to himself.
Finally, he came across a clearing in the woods, and he quickly found he wasn't alone. He ceased movement when he saw a peculiar looking person sitting in the centre of the clearing, stirring at a pot over a fire.
As he crept up to the person, he realised it wasn't human. It was smaller, but not quite a Goblin or a house elf. This…human-like thing was small and a little chubby with large, hairy feet and thick, curly hair. This was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
He winced when a twig snapped under his trainers. The creature quickly looked up and let out a yell of surprise. He quickly got to his hairy feet and reached into the pot, wielding a ladle. He approached Ron with a threatening grimace.
Startled, Ron stumbled backwards, nearly falling on his arse.
"Who are you?" demanded the strange creature.
"Ron," he squeaked out of surprise. He cleared his throat, and unsure if the creature heard him, he tried again. "Ron. Ron Weasley.
The creature let out an amused chuckle. "Weasley?" he asked with a disbelieving look. "What a funny little name. What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same," Ron responded, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you?"
The creature lifted his eyebrows. "Samwise Gamgee," he replied.
Ron creased his brow in confusion as he tried to recall the name. It sounded so familiar.
"I'm a Hobbit," Samwise explained, noting Ron's confused look. "I won't hurt you, unless that's what you intend to do to me."
Hobbit… Ron knew it sounded familiar…but from where? It suddenly dawned on him as Samwise sat back down at his pot. Lord of the Rings. This was the same Samwise that helped Frodo destroy the One Ring. Hermione recently lent him the book and he had just finished reading it a few hours ago.
But why was Samwise Gamgee here?
"Hungry?" Sam asked, shooting Ron an inquiring look.
Hungry? Wasn't Sam the least bit curious as to why he was there? Did he know what was going on? Would he be able to tell Ron how to get home? When his stomach rumbled, he grimaced.
Bollocks, Ron thought. His need for food won out and he nodded his head before sitting down next to Sam.
"What are you cooking?" he asked the Hobbit.
"Potatoes," Sam beamed.
"Potatoes?" Ron lifted his eyebrows. That's it?
Sam rolled his eyes and dug his ladle into the pot, scooping up a pile of boiled potatoes. He held it out in front of Ron's face.
"PO-TAY-TOES," he shouted slowly so Ron could understand him. "Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew!"
Groaning, Ron pushed the vegetables away from him.
"Yeah, I know what potatoes are. You don't have anything else, do you? I'm kinda starving."
"I have some rabbit," Sam admitted, nodding to the pair of rabbits that were hanging by his small camp. They had not yet been skinned. "I have to admit, some nice, crispy fish would go nice with these taters."
Ron's mouth started to water and he hummed in agreement.
Awkwardness soon started to settle over them and Ron felt a need to fill the silence. He didn't know what else to say, so he said the first thing that popped into his head.
Sam scoffed and hunched his shoulders. "Fine," he replied glumly.
Ron lifted his brow. "Oh?"
The Hobbit scrunched up his face in disgust. "He needs to get off his high horse sometimes. He thinks just because he saved the world from Sauron he can do whatever he want regardless of the feelings of others. Like me."
Ron snorted and nodded his head. "I know how that feels," he replied glumly.
Sam cast his meal mate a sidelong glance. "Oh?"
He sighed and nodded his head again. "Yeah. Ever since Harry defeated Voldemort, he's been all high and mighty. Makes me want to gag, to be honest."
Sam chuckled. "Been there, my friend. So where is Mr. Harry this evening?"
Ron frowned. "Not sure, actually. I've been wondering the same thing myself. Where's Frodo?"
"Sent me away on holiday," Sam grumbled. "He thinks I'm always underfoot."
"And you're not?"
"Of course not!" Sam shot back defensively. "Mr. Frodo's hedges need constant trimming and his flowers are always in need of water!" He sighed and stabbed at the potatoes with his ladle. "I just wish he could see…me."
"And he doesn't?"
Sam shook his head.
"Have you tried telling him how you feel?" Ron asked, starting to feel sorry for the poor Hobbit.
Sighing, Sam hung his head. "No," he replied, his voice slightly muffled. "Because if I told him that I'm concerned about him, I'm afraid I'd have to tell him…other things."
"Yeah, I guess," Ron said. "You can't tell heros anything these days."
Sam laughed and nodded his head. "You got that right, my friend." He looked at his new companion and smiled. "I just wish I could tell him everything. How I feel about him."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "I'd like to give Harry a piece of my mind."
"I'd like to give Mr. Frodo everything."
"What would you tell him if you could?" Ron asked.
Sam hesitated. "To be honest, I don't think words could do it justice. I think I'd have to…show him."
Ron furrowed his brow, about to ask him what he meant, when suddenly he felt Sam's lips on his own. At first, he had no idea it was really happening until he felt Sam's lips move against his. Ron sat there frozen for a few moments before finally pushing him away.
Sam was in love with Frodo? That was not how he felt towards Harry.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ron," Sam said shyly, bowing his head in shame. "Th-that's not even the extent of what I want to do to Frodo."
Ron knew he was asking for it when he opened his mouth to speak. "It's not?" he squeaked.
He let out a groan when he felt Sam's lips against his again. This time, the kiss was harder, more…passionate. Ron wasn't even aware that he was kissing Sam back until he felt the Hobbit's hand on his thigh. Sam inched closer to the red haired young man, the hand on his thigh lightly kneading the muscle.
Ron groaned again, but this time in delight, and kissed back in equal fervor.
A sudden thought dawned on him and he pushed the Hobbit away.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ron," Sam lamented. "It's just…so many years of pent up emotion, that I—"
"No, no," Ron waved his companion off, shaking his head. "It's not that. It's just…what about the potatoes? Won't they burn?"
Sam grinned, leaning back in towards Ron. "Don't worry about the taters, Mr. Ron."
Ron found himself grinning back before finding his lips once again attached to Sam's. He marveled at the feeling of Sam's tongue slipping into his and couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan. The hand on his thigh inched its way up higher and higher towards—
"Taters?!" hissed a raspy, outraged voice.
At once, Sam and Ron jumped away to each other, both turning towards the source of the strange new voice. A gangly looking creature with sallow looking skin crouched by the pot, wrinkling his nose at the potatoes.
The creature reminded Ron of a Severus Snape who refused to eat, bathe, or sleep in years — much like he looked during sixth year.
"Gollum," Sam growled, swatting the creature away. "Stop being so…disturbing!"
Gollum? Ron raised his eyebrows, but jumped when Gollum approached him and nearly fell off the log he sat on.
"Whats this, Precious?" Gollum asked, peering at Ron with curiosity.
It took all of Ron's might not to vomit at the smell of this wretched looking creature. He smelled of old, rotting fish.
"Get out of here!" Sam shouted. "Go on!"
Gollum turned to Sam and hissed, much like the way Crookshanks would at Ron.
"Why is stupid fat Hobbits cooking taters?" Gollum spat out.
Ron tuned out as Sam and Gollum continued to argue, his eyes drawing to the piece of jewelry around the odd creature's neck. It appeared to be a simple gold ring on an equally simple chain. It called to him.
"Precious," he whispered subconsciously.
"What?" Sam and Gollum said simultaneously.
He felt the power tugging on him even harder. He wanted it. He needed it. It was his.
"NO!" Ron shouted, diving at Gollum, fighting him for possession of the Ring.
"What are you doing?" Sam shouted as his new companion and Gollum continued to grapple on the ground.
Gollum nearly gouged out Ron's eyes, but the ginger haired boy won. He stood, panting, Ring in hand. He brought it up to his eye level and stared at it with a creepy expression. With his free hand, he stroked the cool metal.
"My…precious," he whispered.
Then he quickly shook his head, suddenly realising what was going on.
"Bollocks," he cursed, staring at the Ring with great horror.
"What are you doing?" Sam repeated.
"It's a Horcrux!" Ron shouted, his eyes wide with fear. "It'll destroy you!"
"That's what I was going to tell you!" Sam scolded.
"No! You don't understand!" Ron continued to shout. "It needs to be destroyed! If only I had my wand!"
His urge to destroy the One Ring was strong, but its power to control him was even stronger. His head hurt with conflicting thoughts and his mind fought with itself until finally the subconscious desire to be controlled won him over. He easily snapped the chain from the ring and looked over at Sam, who watched him in horror.
"Ron, no!" he pleaded, knowing exactly what was going to happen.
"It's the only way," Ron said in a haunting voice. He held the ring up, ready to slide it onto his finger.
"PRECIOUS!" Gollum screeched, lunging at Ron to stop him.
But it was too late. He had already vanished and—
Ron woke up gasping for air, clutching the bedsheets to his chest. His eyes darted wildly around, but could see nothing but darkness.
He jumped when he felt a hand slide up his bare back.
He let out a sigh of relief at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Hermione," he breathed, falling back into the mattress, still breathing heavily. "It was just a dream."
She hummed tiredly and draped her arm over his chest. "You'll have to tell me all about it in the morning."
Ron wasn't so sure about that. Would she really want to know about him kissing Samwise Gamgee? It took him years before he finally showed interest in reading the trilogy, and even then he did so grudgingly. He'd have to think of some other dream to tell her…
His brow knit together and he glanced down at his chest where her hand rested. He tensed when he realised what he was wearing — the One Ring!
"Err, it's my wedding ring?" Ron suggested, hoping she would buy it. When she didn't answer, he cringed. "Training was rough today, so I thought I'd wear it around my neck under my Auror robes so I wouldn't lose it. Guess I forgot to put it back on my finger."
"Oh, okay," Hermione said, snuggling into his side.
He fought the urge to heave a large sigh of relief. And before he drifted off to sleep, he caught a glimpse of a pair of glowing eyes in the corner.