Disclaimer: Absolutely none of the characters herein are mine. (Xmas
present idea??!!)
From Rosie's POV. She is dying, Sam stands over her as she breathes her last.
He stood there, his deep brown eyes downcast and glistening unashamedly. I looked up at him as the tears spilled from my eyes and slowly crept over my cheeks. His callused fingers, still gentle, smoothed them away, permitting the storms in his eyes to flood over and stream over his own face, unabated. He brushed my sweat-soaked hair away from my pale face. I turned my head slightly to brush his hands with a weak kiss. He raised my own hand to his lips. His warm hands smoothed the wrinkles that had appeared since we first met, then married when he had returned a hero, from his adventure with his master, Frodo.
Frodo is long gone - he left with the elves who no longer inhabit this world. But Sam came back, he came back for me, and his daughter Elanor. I remember when he came back, silently preoccupied and thinking. His master had gone without him for the first time. I always knew how much he cared for me - I could see it every time our eyes met, and every time our hands brushed and clasped and every time he embraced me and we held each other close as the night passed. But Frodo was always there at the back of his mind, and when he was gone. I could see Sam almost letting him go alone.
But he never quite forgot. However much I loved and cared for him I would never have replaced Frodo - they had shared times I never had and never wanted to understand. Sam recounted tales of a Ring, a mountain of fire, elves and the King. But it was always a fairytale to me. I saw the King, I saw the Queen when they came to visit at the border or our land, I listened, amazed, to the tales. but they were never real for me - they were only so for my Sam, and his Frodo.
To Sam, Frodo was his friend and master. The respect and trust Sam held for him was incredible. When we lived with Frodo I'd always felt that I shared Sam's immense capacity for love with him. The loves were different and separate, I knew, but I would have wanted to be his everything - his wife, lover and friend. But the friendship was already given away. And after he was gone there was no one else.
I cannot complain. I cannot. I cannot feel injustice when I know that soon it will be over. I will leave him. I will leave them all. But he will leave me. He will leave everything behind. He will try to follow Frodo. I do not hold him back anymore.
I hold him back. Is he glad of that? If I could stay with him. Would he stay with me? I want him to, I want him to. But does he? Would he? Could he?
I am going now. I feel silence and nothingness creeping from my toes over my legs and on up. My breath comes harsher and faster. My hands are cold, and the chills spread through my spine and creep over my face.
Sam's brown eyes are alarmed. He can see what is happening to me. He sits beside me, cradling me close. I grasp his hands, tight, tight. I am scared. I cannot take my gaze from those eyes. I want him to be the last I see before my eyes must close forever. I love him, right now I can only wish he knows just how much. Just how extreme and deep that love goes, overcoming everything that might build a frosty wall between us. I feel his love too; its warmth tries to drive away that coldness that creeps ever more threatening over me.
I'm falling down, down. I can see him. but black clouds try to blot him from my sight. I blink onto blackness as I sink into the depths of night. Frodo has already gone; I am gone, now Sam must go.
Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez r/r. much appreciated! (
From Rosie's POV. She is dying, Sam stands over her as she breathes her last.
He stood there, his deep brown eyes downcast and glistening unashamedly. I looked up at him as the tears spilled from my eyes and slowly crept over my cheeks. His callused fingers, still gentle, smoothed them away, permitting the storms in his eyes to flood over and stream over his own face, unabated. He brushed my sweat-soaked hair away from my pale face. I turned my head slightly to brush his hands with a weak kiss. He raised my own hand to his lips. His warm hands smoothed the wrinkles that had appeared since we first met, then married when he had returned a hero, from his adventure with his master, Frodo.
Frodo is long gone - he left with the elves who no longer inhabit this world. But Sam came back, he came back for me, and his daughter Elanor. I remember when he came back, silently preoccupied and thinking. His master had gone without him for the first time. I always knew how much he cared for me - I could see it every time our eyes met, and every time our hands brushed and clasped and every time he embraced me and we held each other close as the night passed. But Frodo was always there at the back of his mind, and when he was gone. I could see Sam almost letting him go alone.
But he never quite forgot. However much I loved and cared for him I would never have replaced Frodo - they had shared times I never had and never wanted to understand. Sam recounted tales of a Ring, a mountain of fire, elves and the King. But it was always a fairytale to me. I saw the King, I saw the Queen when they came to visit at the border or our land, I listened, amazed, to the tales. but they were never real for me - they were only so for my Sam, and his Frodo.
To Sam, Frodo was his friend and master. The respect and trust Sam held for him was incredible. When we lived with Frodo I'd always felt that I shared Sam's immense capacity for love with him. The loves were different and separate, I knew, but I would have wanted to be his everything - his wife, lover and friend. But the friendship was already given away. And after he was gone there was no one else.
I cannot complain. I cannot. I cannot feel injustice when I know that soon it will be over. I will leave him. I will leave them all. But he will leave me. He will leave everything behind. He will try to follow Frodo. I do not hold him back anymore.
I hold him back. Is he glad of that? If I could stay with him. Would he stay with me? I want him to, I want him to. But does he? Would he? Could he?
I am going now. I feel silence and nothingness creeping from my toes over my legs and on up. My breath comes harsher and faster. My hands are cold, and the chills spread through my spine and creep over my face.
Sam's brown eyes are alarmed. He can see what is happening to me. He sits beside me, cradling me close. I grasp his hands, tight, tight. I am scared. I cannot take my gaze from those eyes. I want him to be the last I see before my eyes must close forever. I love him, right now I can only wish he knows just how much. Just how extreme and deep that love goes, overcoming everything that might build a frosty wall between us. I feel his love too; its warmth tries to drive away that coldness that creeps ever more threatening over me.
I'm falling down, down. I can see him. but black clouds try to blot him from my sight. I blink onto blackness as I sink into the depths of night. Frodo has already gone; I am gone, now Sam must go.
Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez r/r. much appreciated! (
