'Sam! Oh, Sam!'

Frodo woke up with a start, tears streaming down his face, his heart beating so fast he feared it might burst out of his chest.

'Sam, my Sam,' he whispered to the dark that clung to his skin.

Gone. Samwise was gone.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist and pulled him down, his back lying against a strong chest.

Sam.

'Oh, I'm sorry... I thought.'

'Hush now m'dear, 'tis high time for you to be asleep.'

'But...'

'T'was naught but a nightmare, Frodo dear, your Sam won't leave you, try and get some sleep.'

'You're right, Sam, oh, it was so... so.'

'You can tell me about it, if it helps,' Sam said in his gentle and slightly hoarse voice.

Frodo turned round in Sam's arms and snuggled close to him, planting soft kisses on his throat.

'You were dead, Sam, you had died like the hero you are, but... it was so unfair. And... and you were married to Rose Cotton and had a child.'

'Oh, that is the worst part of it I guess,' smiled the gardener. 'Well, I'm not going to fight no battles now, and I'm not going to get married neither. Don't fret about that me dear.'

'I'm sorry I woke you. You must find me so childish!'

'Of course not! You've been through so much. Get some sleep, and tomorrow we'll see what kind of fights can get me undone.'

'Well, we're awake now, aren't we?'

Sam pushed Frodo on his back and kissed him soundly.

'You're right, dear. And maybe I can show you that I'm made of living flesh and ready to try and give you as many children as you like.'

'Trying is always good,' answered Frodo between kisses and strokes. 'Sam, oh, Sam..'