This is my take on how Frodo and Sam went from two little hobbit children to the best friends that we see them as in Return of the King. There are many other interpretations of this storyline that are much better than mine, but this story was screaming in my veins to be told, and I had to get it out. I hope you enjoy it.
I have tried to keep this within the timeline laid out by Tolkien in the appendix in the back of ROTK, but I'm sure that there were details that I have forgotten and therefore mistakes that were made that might present themselves in this story. Hopefully that won't throw anything off too much. I also seem to be struggling with writing Frodo and Sam's characters well (especially Sam's, though I couldn't tell you why) so please forgive me if they seem off character at all. Any suggestions/advice are gratefully received. Thank you—Kora
The Beginning
"'Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee!' And I don't mean to, I don't mean to."
A smile tugged at Frodo Baggins' lips as the brave and loyal statement echoed through his brain. Frodo's smile grew fonder when his companion, Sam Gamgee, rolled over and muttered in his sleep. "Not much further now, Mr. Frodo. We'll make it yet."
The grin was welcome to Frodo. In this grim and desolate land of Mordor, any snatch of happiness was precious. Frodo sighed and shifted in his place, trying to shove the sickly lump feeling in his stomach back so that he might regain enough peace to fall asleep.
For some inexplicable reason, despite the weariness that pounded and dragged on his body, Frodo found himself unable to sleep. Sam, on the other hand, had drifted off as soon as they had stopped to take a break. Again Frodo turned and studied his sleeping friend. Sam's brow was furrowed in concern. From the phrases the young hobbit was murmuring in his sleep, Sam appeared to be having a restless dream.
Frodo wished he had the power to ease Sam's thoughts, somehow alleviate the worry that kept Sam from experiencing a brief moment of respite, even during his slumber. But no, Sam insisted on constantly worrying about Frodo. 'If only' Frodo wished, 'if only you knew the love and care and concern I hold for you, just as you do for me.'
Deep in his dream, Sam heard his closest friend's call. Stretching, he woke. "Is all well, Mr. Frodo?" he asked with a yawn.
"Yes, Sam, as good as can be expected," Frodo answered with a wry smile. "I was just…remembering."
"Remembering what?" Sam pushed himself up into a sitting position and licked his dry lips.
Frodo heaved a weighty sigh and gazed at the area surrounding them. The foot of Mount Doom was in plain sight now, and the air around them was thick, blanketed with smoke and ash. The wizened, stubborn tufts off vegetation that forced t heir way through the hard ground to live in this barren land were matted and parched. All this was a stark contrast to where Frodo had grown up with Sam.
"About us…the old days. After I was adopted by Bilbo and you were barely, if even, a tween."
An unabashed smile lit Sam's face. "I remember, Mister Frodo." His features clouded, partially serious but mostly nostalgic. "I remember that first day…" he trailed off, and looked beseechingly into Frodo's eyes. "Will you tell me about it, as if it were a story?"
Despite all that weighed upon him, Frodo chuckled. "But Sam, you were there!"
"I know, Mr. Frodo," Sam stammered, fiddling with his fingers. "But you're so good at telling stories, just like Mr. Bilbo, and anything to lighten this dreadful place just a little…"
Frodo stifled a laugh. 'Good old Sam.' "Alright, I suppose you're right." Frodo shifted so he faced Sam more directly. "It was a gorgeous spring day, I can't for the life of me remember the date, but I remember the beauty of the day vividly…"
***
Sunlight streamed down from the glowing orb in the sky and immersed all below in its warm radiance. Large cotton clouds dotted the blue-egg sky above, like splotchy blots of white paint on a light blue canvas. Flowers of every wild and pastel color imaginable swayed slightly in the cool breeze, peacefully nestled in the soft, tick green carpet of grass. Birds entertained all who paused to listen with their cheerful songs. 'Twas a typical spring day in the Shire.
A young Frodo Baggins scampered through the tall grass to the "Great Unknown, the great unknown being a small grotto tucked away in the edge of the valley directly outside Hobbiton, where open space met forest. Yet to Frodo, this grotto was the site of an epic battle between goblin and elf. Only one daring and brave young hobbit held the key to preventing evil from overtaking Middle Earth. That hobbit was he, Frodo Baggins.
Using a stick he'd found lying on the side of a path as a sword, Frodo battled his way through hoards of goblin warriors to reach the grotto—and the scene of the fight raging between goblin chieftain and elvish prince. Leaping onto a rock beneath and beside a baby waterfall, Frodo cried, "I am here!"
A startled sandy-haired head, a few feet downstream, snapped up. "I'm sorry!"
Frodo dropped his "sword" and jumped off the rock to see who the owner of the voice and head was. "Who are you? And what have you to be sorry for?"
The small figure squirmed his way from the two rocks he'd wedged himself between.
"Samwise—Sam—Gamgee!" Frodo laughed. Sam presented a comical sight. Everywhere from his dirty-blonde head to the curly hair on his feet and toes was dripping wet. In his right hand, Sam clutched a modest metal pail—the one used for watering the small pansies rowing the edges of the path to Bag-End.
Frodo laughed again. "Whatever are you doing, Sam?"
Sam flushed a deep crimson and stuttered an answer. "My—my Gaffer sent me to—to get water for the flowers."
Frodo's eyebrows arched quizzically. "Can't you get water from the well in town? Or even a stream closer to Bag-End?"
Sam blushed even redder, and his stammering made his words nearly unintelligible. "I—I know I c-could, Mister F-Frodo, but---but seeing as how it's so pretty he-here, I j…just thought…"
Frodo's laugh rang through the grotto. "Don't be so scared, Sam, you're not in trouble." He moved to stand beside the younger hobbit and slung an arm around his shoulders. "I was just curious as to why you were making extra work for yourself. Come one, we'll head back to Hobbiton and fill your pail on the way."
A nervous smile flickered on Sam's lips. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo."
Frodo shook his head—Sam acted a bit too much like a meek rabbit at times, but it was endearing. "It's nothing, not a trouble at all." The two tweens made their way out of the grotto and towards Hobbiton.
***
Years passed since the incident in the grotto. Frodo and Sam began to spend more time together in play, with the younger Meriadoc (Merry) and the younger still Peregrin (Pippin) Took joining in when they visited Hobbiton.
As Sam grew, he took in more responsibilities around Bag-End, with the garden being his favorite place to work. Sam loved the feel of the cool, soft soil between his fingers, and plants flourished under his touch, even with Sam's tender age.
Because of Sam's increasing workload, Frodo soon found himself bored often. The games he had played as a child for solitary entertainment no longer amused him. Frodo found himself making a habit of staring wistfully out the window at Sam performing one task or another. At least the younger hobbit had something to fill his day, and Sam never seemed bored nor lonely. Frodo wished he could go out and offer his help to Sam, but Bilbo quickly cautioned Frodo against such an action.
Frodo did not understand it, but for some reason, it would be improper to offer to help his friend. Bilbo tried explaining it to his adopted heir, but Frodo had resigned to grudgingly accepting the rule, grumbling all the while. It was on such a day, gorgeous and crisp, that Frodo had an idea.
He abandoned his spot beside the window, leapt up, and raced down the path to the Gamgee home (waving of course to Sam as he flew by). When Frodo reached the Gamgee's door, he stopped suddenly. Bilbo had also warned him not to bother the Gamgees whilst they were at work. Frodo meant no disrespect, but he could hardly wait to present his plan to Hamfast Gamgee. Frodo stood, unmoving, torn between being polite and the excitement thudding in his heart. To his fortune, luck happened to cross his path and make the decision for him.
"Frodo? What are you doing?" Bilbo leaned into Frodo's line of vision and studied the scrunched features and furrowed brow on Frodo's face.
"I-I'm thinking," Frodo stuttered, startled out of his reverie. He looked up at Bilbo and noticed that the older hobbit had come out of the Gamgee home. Bilbo saw the question in Frodo's eyes and realized that he'd have to first before Frodo would understand enough to form his own answer.
"I took tea with Mrs. Gamgee today," Bilbo explained, his eyes twinkling. "Now, tell me why you are standing out in front of her home with such a befuddled expression on your face."
Frodo chewed on his lip nervously before replying. "I was thinking that possibly if I talked to Mr. Gamgee, he would allow Sam and I to go on a camping trip for a day or two, if you approve as well, that is."
A small smile curled the corners of Bilbo's lips. He knew how much Frodo wanted to spend more time with Sam. "Let me speak with Hamfast about it." He gently nudged Frodo in the direction of Bag-End. "You run along, don't bother the Gamgees. I'll see about things."
tbc