And now we're back to slogging around in Mordor. But the end is in sight! For us, if not quite for Sam and Frodo yet.
Once again, we encounter the idea of having no hope, but doing what you can anyway. This time it's Frodo who says, "I am tired, weary, I haven't a hope left. But I have to go on trying to get to the Mountain, as long as I can move" (p. 897). I have days that feel like that, don't you? Like when I have zero hope of getting my house cleaned up before we have friends come over for a game day tomorrow, but I give it my best effort anyway. Better partly cleaned than entirely messy.
But I digress. Even dear Sam the Perpetually Cheerful finds it difficult to remain hopeful. His "quick spirits sank again" (p. 898), and when he "thought of water even his hopeful spirit quailed" (p. 901). If Sam's losing hope, we know things are bleak. Except he does find water, and when he looks up at the stars and realizes they'll still be beautiful and unsullied even if Sauron conquers all of Middle Earth, "hope returned to him" (p. 901).
And it turns out that Sam's hope might be enough to sustain both of them. Frodo tells Sam, "Lead me! As long as you've got any hope left. Mine is gone" (p. 907). So they continue stumbling about Mordor, page after weary page. (Honestly, this is probably my least-favorite chapter in the whole trilogy, and I'm happy to have it behind us.)
"I'll try," said Sam, "but when I think of that Stinker I get so hot I could shout" (p. 905).
Sam relies on luck now and then to help him find water, to help him get back to Frodo before Gollum could do him harm, and to help them find a path. It worked the first two times, but then they find themselves trapped on the open road by a company of orcs, and Frodo says, "We've trusted to luck, and it has failed us" (p. 909). What do you think Tolkien might be trying to say about the whole idea of luck? Should we trust to luck?