Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. If I did, my name would be J.R.R Tolkien. So.....don't...sue....me...please.
Archive: Sure
Reviews: Please!
This fic contains implied SLASH so if you don't like it...don't read it.
This is Rosie's take on Frodo's departure and the heart-breaking effect it has on Sam...
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Sometimes, at night, when he thinks I'm fast asleep, he gets up and goes Mr. Frodo's old bedroom. He doesn't do it often as he used to. I wait a minute and then, surely, as the moon outside, I hear the sobs coming from down the hall.
'My poor, dear Sam.' Ever since Mr. Frodo left, I've had to sit by and watch him grieve for which I can do nothing. I always knew what they meant to each other but never how much. I believe I got a glimpse of just how much, on the night of our wedding. Sam, bless him, knew exactly what he was doing in the bed. And I've seen the way they would look at each other at the dinner table. Who else could Sam have been with, before me, if not Frodo?
But I never held it against Sam nor Mr. Frodo. No one could've loved and cared for Mr. Frodo more than Sam. I was quite happy to live in Bag End when Mr. Frodo invited us. Atleast, Mr. Frodo could have his Sam close by.
I remember that fateful day, when Sam came back home from traveling with Mr. Frodo. He walked into the smial with a most devestated look as I've ever seen on anyone. I sat him down in his chair, placed little Elanor on his lap, and waited for him to say something, anything. He let out a heavy sigh and all he could say was, "well I'm back."
I never had to ask him what happened to Mr. Frodo because his eyes said it all.
And now, it's as if half his heart went with Frodo. I know Sam loves me. He tells me and shows me, often enough. But I don't believe I'll ever be what Frodo is, to him.
This night, Sam's been away, with my brothers. He's been gone for sometime. I wonder why he's so late? Suddenly I hear footsteps coming through the door. Theres my Sam in the doorway, stumbling as he walks in. I can tell he's more than a little tipsy. "Frodo" he calls but there's no answer. Probably been to the Green Dragon, no doubt.
"Rosie," he says to me, trying to kiss me but his lips miss mine and land on my cheek. "H've you se'n Frodo any wh're?"
All I can say, as I get up and lead him to our bedroom, is "don't worry 'bout Mr. Frodo, none. I'm sure he's all right."
He gives me a drunken smile and giggles as he lays down on the bed. "Rose-dear, tell Frodo go'd night fer me, wh'n he comes home, will ya? I'm very sle'py right now." With that he's fast asleep, a light snore breaking the silence. I pull the covers over him and kiss his forehead before I step outside and shut the door behind me.
I'm alone now, in the kitchen, with naught' but a cup of tea to keep me company. Elanor and Frodo-lad are sound asleep and I take comfort in that for I know I shan't have none, this night. I turn my ears towards our bedroom. Sam's snores have grown louder than before. I suppose a drink-induced sleep is better than to be awake with nothing but bitter sorrow clouding your mind.
Mr. Frodo, I don't know why you left but I suppose you had your reasons. But couldn't you see what it's doing to Sam? What it's doing to me?
I don't know what to do, Mr. Frodo. I can only hold Sam when he's grieving like this and hope that he doesn't go insane. I suppose I should be happy, though, because he said that you've gone somewhere where you'll never know pain or sickness, again. But it's only caused more pain for him. To him, the sun sets and rises with you. You were everything to him and now you're gone.
I can only hope and pray that one day, he'll see you again. Then there will be no more misery for him or me. Until that time, farewell, Frodo. Just know that I love you too.
Archive: Sure
Reviews: Please!
This fic contains implied SLASH so if you don't like it...don't read it.
This is Rosie's take on Frodo's departure and the heart-breaking effect it has on Sam...
_________________________________________________
Sometimes, at night, when he thinks I'm fast asleep, he gets up and goes Mr. Frodo's old bedroom. He doesn't do it often as he used to. I wait a minute and then, surely, as the moon outside, I hear the sobs coming from down the hall.
'My poor, dear Sam.' Ever since Mr. Frodo left, I've had to sit by and watch him grieve for which I can do nothing. I always knew what they meant to each other but never how much. I believe I got a glimpse of just how much, on the night of our wedding. Sam, bless him, knew exactly what he was doing in the bed. And I've seen the way they would look at each other at the dinner table. Who else could Sam have been with, before me, if not Frodo?
But I never held it against Sam nor Mr. Frodo. No one could've loved and cared for Mr. Frodo more than Sam. I was quite happy to live in Bag End when Mr. Frodo invited us. Atleast, Mr. Frodo could have his Sam close by.
I remember that fateful day, when Sam came back home from traveling with Mr. Frodo. He walked into the smial with a most devestated look as I've ever seen on anyone. I sat him down in his chair, placed little Elanor on his lap, and waited for him to say something, anything. He let out a heavy sigh and all he could say was, "well I'm back."
I never had to ask him what happened to Mr. Frodo because his eyes said it all.
And now, it's as if half his heart went with Frodo. I know Sam loves me. He tells me and shows me, often enough. But I don't believe I'll ever be what Frodo is, to him.
This night, Sam's been away, with my brothers. He's been gone for sometime. I wonder why he's so late? Suddenly I hear footsteps coming through the door. Theres my Sam in the doorway, stumbling as he walks in. I can tell he's more than a little tipsy. "Frodo" he calls but there's no answer. Probably been to the Green Dragon, no doubt.
"Rosie," he says to me, trying to kiss me but his lips miss mine and land on my cheek. "H've you se'n Frodo any wh're?"
All I can say, as I get up and lead him to our bedroom, is "don't worry 'bout Mr. Frodo, none. I'm sure he's all right."
He gives me a drunken smile and giggles as he lays down on the bed. "Rose-dear, tell Frodo go'd night fer me, wh'n he comes home, will ya? I'm very sle'py right now." With that he's fast asleep, a light snore breaking the silence. I pull the covers over him and kiss his forehead before I step outside and shut the door behind me.
I'm alone now, in the kitchen, with naught' but a cup of tea to keep me company. Elanor and Frodo-lad are sound asleep and I take comfort in that for I know I shan't have none, this night. I turn my ears towards our bedroom. Sam's snores have grown louder than before. I suppose a drink-induced sleep is better than to be awake with nothing but bitter sorrow clouding your mind.
Mr. Frodo, I don't know why you left but I suppose you had your reasons. But couldn't you see what it's doing to Sam? What it's doing to me?
I don't know what to do, Mr. Frodo. I can only hold Sam when he's grieving like this and hope that he doesn't go insane. I suppose I should be happy, though, because he said that you've gone somewhere where you'll never know pain or sickness, again. But it's only caused more pain for him. To him, the sun sets and rises with you. You were everything to him and now you're gone.
I can only hope and pray that one day, he'll see you again. Then there will be no more misery for him or me. Until that time, farewell, Frodo. Just know that I love you too.