centeruI Wonder…/u
By Haeharmaiel/center
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters (and if I did, I wouldn't share them!), they all belong to Tolkien Enterprises, and New Line Cinema (I think), and I'm not making a single penny out of writing this, I'm just doing it for my own enjoyment!
E-Mail: Haeharmaiel@aol.com
Authors Notes: This is an angsty piece, basically a Frodo monologue of his thoughts on Sam. It's slashy -that is, Frodo thinking about Sam in a romantic sense. If you don't like slash, don't read it and save all of our time. If you do like it, hurrah! Kindred Spirit! We need more Hobbit slash! More!
It's set before the Quest, when Frodo is about 48ish and Sam 33.
This is my first story that I've written about Frodo and Sam. Though I've been reading slash for ages I've never quite had the inspiration or courage to write and post on fanfiction. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, especially as I'm a newbie J Thanks –Harm.
I Wonder…
The sun shines brightly today; its warm rays fall upon The Shire, making the corn fields glow gold and the rivers and streams twinkle in the bright light. But over Bag End there is a cloud.
I stand here by my study window, musing. The study has a fine view of the garden, a lush green carpet of grass bordered by magnificent trees. Splashes of vivid colour from the flower beds catch the eye. But not mine. I see only you in the garden Sam. I watch you working. The sun makes your sandy curls gleam, and has tanned your skin a deep brown. I feel my breath catch in my throat despite myself as I watch you and I wonder.
I've tried so many times to put my feelings for you into words, but each time I begin, I stop myself. I'm not sure when I first realised exactly why my heart would skip a beat at a fleeting touch. Or just why I would feel elation to match your joy, or a sorrow to match your own. But this I know; it has always been you, Sam.
I take comfort in knowing that as long as Bag End stands, you shall tend its gardens. You will still be here, as loyal and as faithful as ever. I've seen the way you look at Rosie Cotton though…I've watched your gaze linger on her, and I've wondered.
Often have I wondered what my life would be like if you felt the same. What it would be like to be held by your strong arms, and have you whisper my name in a soft, gentle voice so used to 'Thank you Mr. Frodo's and the like. I wonder how it would feel to hear you murmur my name – No 'Mr's, simply Frodo – and the mere thought sends shivers down my spine.
You look to the window then, almost as though you sense me. Your chestnut gaze meets my own steadily, and I attempt a smile, inwardly reeling and ashamed. And then, I do what I must. I withdraw into the shadows, and I wonder…