AN: What must I really say here? My first angsty-slash fic. Frodo/Sam.
Sam's POV. Um. I think that's it.
Disclaimer: Don't own Frodo, Sam, the Ring (although I want it for Christmas) or anything else Lord of the Rings related. And the song lyrics are from part of Misty's Song.
I glance over at the motionless, sleeping figure of my love, and contemplate. Contemplation is something I seem to do a lot lately. Nearly always about Him. He occupies my mind twenty-four hours a day. Every second passing, my mind is filled with thoughts of him and him alone. Frodo, why must you be so perfect? Fairer than the fairest of all elves, and not too crazy, but not too serious. You're the only one, the only thing I think of. Do you care?
Of course you do not. You have the fate of Middle-Earth on your shoulders - or rather, around your neck. You are not able to care for something as petty as myself; it is selfish of me to think it possible. Sometimes it frustrates me that you do not, you cannot feel for me the way I feel for you. But then I remind myself of how much you suffer, and hate myself for ever letting you upset me.
It's not right. They cannot do this to you. They cannot place such a heavy burden upon you against your will, The only consolance I can offer you is that no matter how bad it gets, I will always be there for you. Wherever they make you go, whatever they make you do, I will go with you. I promise you, I will never let you down, Frodo. If necessary, I will carry you into the very fires of Mount Doom, and back again. I do not care what you do, or do not feel for me. My feelings for you are enough to make me do anything.
I remember a song Bilbo once taught me. I heard him singing it, one day when I was only a young hobbit, and begged him to teach me. "Young one," he chuckled, "one must not learn songs only because they sound pretty. This song has a story to match, about an elf."
"Oh, Bilbo, tell me the story! I do love hearing about the elves!" I begged him. And then, I did love hearing about them. Such fascinating beings, so wise, and yet so fair.
Bilbo told me the story, a very sweet story of an elf-maiden named Airebrethil. Airebrethil was one of the fairest of the fair, with long blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and perfect elven features. But even she was nothing compared to you, Frodo. Airebrethil was very much in love with a man, names Dias. But she could never tell him, for fear he did not feel the same way. But every night she came to him, and sat by his side and sang sweet songs to him. Oh, Frodo, it is the same with I. I could never tell you this to your face, so I must be content with conversing with your sleeping serenity.
"Now will you teach me her song, Bilbo?" I begged him once more.
"No, you must hear the rest of the story first." Then, he told me of how Airebrethil's beautiful singing haunted Dias' dreams. It was driving him crazy, he had to know who sang to him at night. So one night, he stayed awake, but feigned sleep. Airebrethi came to him that night, and he fell in love with her immediately.
"That's a very sweet story." I told him, momentarily forgetting the song.
"I know." He replied in his mysterious way. "Airebrethil rather reminds me of a young Hobbit I know." I asked him who he meant and if I knew them, but he refused to tell me any more. I recall him saying only one last thing before he taught me the song. He said, "Frodo would rather like the tale of Airebrethil and Dias." Could he have possibly known? Bilbo is very wise, but.. Not that wise. Not even I knew then. But then, back then I was a young and innocent Hobbit who cared for little but gardening and the tales of the elves.
"I practice all the things that I could say, Line by line, every word, I tell myself today could be the day, But every time, I lose my nerve. I want to tell you what I'm feeling, but I Don't know how to start, I want to tell you, but now I'm afraid That you might break my heart Oh why should anything so easy, ever be so hard to do, I want to tell you what I'm feeling, and to Say that, I love you.."
Sweet words, straight from the fair lips of Airebrethil. They enchanted Dias, but do they have the same effect on you? Of course they couldn't. Airebrethil was a fair elf maiden, with an enchanting voice. I am but a poor Hobbit, a gardener of all things. I cannot compare to the one who originally sang these words. My vague recollection of what Bilbo once taught me when I was young is no basis for a comparison. The only that can be compared is that the love Airebrethil felt for Dias is the same love I feel for you, Frodo.
Oh Frodo, I've been speaking for so long I had all but forgotten you were still asleep. But if you were awake and heard me say this I would not know what to say. I have not the courage to say these things so you can hear me. All I can do is, when you are asleep and cannot possibly know the torments of my mind and heart, lean over and whisper the three sweetest words ever invented - I love you. I suppose I always have, and I know I always will.
Sometimes, in my deepest contemplation, I wish I could hear your voice saying, "I love you too, Sam." But then I realise that it would never happen except in the sweetest of my sweet dreams. What's the point in wishing for the impossible? They say there will never be a perfect world, and I know they are right. In a perfect world, you would love me as I love you. But that is something that will not happen.
Sam leans over Frodo's sleeping lump, two of his fingers touching his lips, then touching, ever so lightly, the other Hobbit's cheek. "I love you, Frodo."
AN: I actually wrote this for my friend Sez. I've never actually written angsty slash before, but I was bored and she loves Frodo/Sam stuff. Go figure.
Note about the song, I could not think of anything better. Can any of you wonderful people?
Love yas!
Disclaimer: Don't own Frodo, Sam, the Ring (although I want it for Christmas) or anything else Lord of the Rings related. And the song lyrics are from part of Misty's Song.
I glance over at the motionless, sleeping figure of my love, and contemplate. Contemplation is something I seem to do a lot lately. Nearly always about Him. He occupies my mind twenty-four hours a day. Every second passing, my mind is filled with thoughts of him and him alone. Frodo, why must you be so perfect? Fairer than the fairest of all elves, and not too crazy, but not too serious. You're the only one, the only thing I think of. Do you care?
Of course you do not. You have the fate of Middle-Earth on your shoulders - or rather, around your neck. You are not able to care for something as petty as myself; it is selfish of me to think it possible. Sometimes it frustrates me that you do not, you cannot feel for me the way I feel for you. But then I remind myself of how much you suffer, and hate myself for ever letting you upset me.
It's not right. They cannot do this to you. They cannot place such a heavy burden upon you against your will, The only consolance I can offer you is that no matter how bad it gets, I will always be there for you. Wherever they make you go, whatever they make you do, I will go with you. I promise you, I will never let you down, Frodo. If necessary, I will carry you into the very fires of Mount Doom, and back again. I do not care what you do, or do not feel for me. My feelings for you are enough to make me do anything.
I remember a song Bilbo once taught me. I heard him singing it, one day when I was only a young hobbit, and begged him to teach me. "Young one," he chuckled, "one must not learn songs only because they sound pretty. This song has a story to match, about an elf."
"Oh, Bilbo, tell me the story! I do love hearing about the elves!" I begged him. And then, I did love hearing about them. Such fascinating beings, so wise, and yet so fair.
Bilbo told me the story, a very sweet story of an elf-maiden named Airebrethil. Airebrethil was one of the fairest of the fair, with long blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and perfect elven features. But even she was nothing compared to you, Frodo. Airebrethil was very much in love with a man, names Dias. But she could never tell him, for fear he did not feel the same way. But every night she came to him, and sat by his side and sang sweet songs to him. Oh, Frodo, it is the same with I. I could never tell you this to your face, so I must be content with conversing with your sleeping serenity.
"Now will you teach me her song, Bilbo?" I begged him once more.
"No, you must hear the rest of the story first." Then, he told me of how Airebrethil's beautiful singing haunted Dias' dreams. It was driving him crazy, he had to know who sang to him at night. So one night, he stayed awake, but feigned sleep. Airebrethi came to him that night, and he fell in love with her immediately.
"That's a very sweet story." I told him, momentarily forgetting the song.
"I know." He replied in his mysterious way. "Airebrethil rather reminds me of a young Hobbit I know." I asked him who he meant and if I knew them, but he refused to tell me any more. I recall him saying only one last thing before he taught me the song. He said, "Frodo would rather like the tale of Airebrethil and Dias." Could he have possibly known? Bilbo is very wise, but.. Not that wise. Not even I knew then. But then, back then I was a young and innocent Hobbit who cared for little but gardening and the tales of the elves.
"I practice all the things that I could say, Line by line, every word, I tell myself today could be the day, But every time, I lose my nerve. I want to tell you what I'm feeling, but I Don't know how to start, I want to tell you, but now I'm afraid That you might break my heart Oh why should anything so easy, ever be so hard to do, I want to tell you what I'm feeling, and to Say that, I love you.."
Sweet words, straight from the fair lips of Airebrethil. They enchanted Dias, but do they have the same effect on you? Of course they couldn't. Airebrethil was a fair elf maiden, with an enchanting voice. I am but a poor Hobbit, a gardener of all things. I cannot compare to the one who originally sang these words. My vague recollection of what Bilbo once taught me when I was young is no basis for a comparison. The only that can be compared is that the love Airebrethil felt for Dias is the same love I feel for you, Frodo.
Oh Frodo, I've been speaking for so long I had all but forgotten you were still asleep. But if you were awake and heard me say this I would not know what to say. I have not the courage to say these things so you can hear me. All I can do is, when you are asleep and cannot possibly know the torments of my mind and heart, lean over and whisper the three sweetest words ever invented - I love you. I suppose I always have, and I know I always will.
Sometimes, in my deepest contemplation, I wish I could hear your voice saying, "I love you too, Sam." But then I realise that it would never happen except in the sweetest of my sweet dreams. What's the point in wishing for the impossible? They say there will never be a perfect world, and I know they are right. In a perfect world, you would love me as I love you. But that is something that will not happen.
Sam leans over Frodo's sleeping lump, two of his fingers touching his lips, then touching, ever so lightly, the other Hobbit's cheek. "I love you, Frodo."
AN: I actually wrote this for my friend Sez. I've never actually written angsty slash before, but I was bored and she loves Frodo/Sam stuff. Go figure.
Note about the song, I could not think of anything better. Can any of you wonderful people?
Love yas!
