Author's Note: Drabble. Trying to get back in the habit of writing again.

Warnings: Fluff.

Sweeter than a Name

"…I now present to you Sam and Rosie Gamgee!" Frodo cried, over the loud cheers of the other hobbits. He had, at last, presided over his dear Sam's wedding, on a warm spring day. The sun could not have shined more brightly, the flowers bloomed more widely, nor the smiles been as tender. While the journey had been long and hard, it was worth it to see his gardener so pleased.

Pity Bilbo isn't here to see this, he said to himself. Bilbo had chosen Hamfast, Sam's father, and when Hamfast left the gardening to Sam, had spoken well for the lad. He knew Sam loved the stories Bilbo told, shyly listening around corners, or beneath the eaves – a habit Gandalf found him at when the wizard told Frodo about the Ring.

The Sam returned from the quest would now listen confidently, Frodo knew, would be more – more bold, more sure, and especially, more open (after the Reckoning, when the Shire was all quiet in the morning, he had marched right up to the Cotton's and asked straight away for Rosie's hand).

If Frodo was glad on this day, Sam surely would be.

And as for Sam…

He bent to kiss his new wife, and thought he had never tasted anything sweeter.