Frodo's lament

Frodo Baggins stood over at the window looking miserable. He was gazing out towards the graveyard which was just across the road from my home. His face was grave and he looked very pale.

Not right for a hobbit, I thought, but I shook my head and, ignoring Master Frodo's lost look, got back to my cooking.

Frodo still sat there at supper-time, even though I invited him to eat with us.

He didn't even join us for tea. I srongly suspected anorexia, but he ate finally, around eleven at night by Shire clocks. I made him cheese on toast, which he accepted gratefully.

By midnight, Rosie got tired of him. He had been silent all day and night, even when he accepted the snack I made for him. But I could swear he whispered a "thank-you".

"Sam, get him home." she said to me.

"But Rosie," I said to her, "He's in lament. He's thin and worn, and that's just not right. Besides, he can't cope without his Sam!"

"I'm quite sure he doesn't need you sleeping with 'im!" she exclaimed.

"I didn't mean it that way!"

"Just get 'im home!"

I didn't like the way she talked about my Master behind his back.

"I will not get him out, and that's that!"

"Samwise Gamgee, you will take him straight home and then come straight back!!"

After another minute of fighting, I gave. I was fighting a losing battle, anyway. Soon, I was walking down the lonely road to Bag-end.

"Sam, let's go to the graveyard." I very nearly jumped out out my skin. The first words he uttered all day! But why, oh why, did they have to be the most feared ones? After all, Rosie said straight home with master. And I didn't like to argue with Rosie. Then again, I didn't like to argue with Frodo either...

"Ohhh, Master Frodo," I said, torn between joy and terror. "We mustn't! You don't want to be attacked or nothin' do you?"

Frodo must have sensed what I was thinking, because he laughed. Oh, what a lovely sound it was to hear my master laugh!

"No, Sam, and I don't want my faithful Sam to get into trouble with Rosie either." he replied.

I sighed with relief.

"Master, we can go there tomorrow if you like." I said.

"Yes Sam, I would like that." he replied.

We walked on in silence for a while. In silence and the dark, the road up to Bag End seemed lonely and evil. Master Frodo looked fine, even when he glanced along to the woods, but I could swear there were eyes leering out at us. Frodo said they were maybe friendly eyes, but even so, I didn't like the way they stared.

Halfway there, Frodo started humming. It was the song that he sang at The Prancing Pony. I liked the fact that he seemed to be cheering up, but even though he could sing, and had an incredible voice, I wanted him to stop. It scared me that he kept getting louder as we walked on. His lovely voice echoed in the darkness, but though it seemed brighter, the eyes seemed to become clearer. Finally, as we were nearing Bag End, which was dark and gloomy at the time, I could take it no more.

"Ooooh! Master please stop!" I cried. He stopped. I looked over. His beautiful face was troubled with confusion.

"Sam, you look troubled," he said gently.

"Y-yes," I replied.

"What's there to be troubled about?" There was a tone of frustration in his voice, but his face remained soft and calm.

"Th-the eyes, Mr Frodo the eyes."

"Oh Sam! Don't worry about them!"

"B-but th-the Gaffer always said 'Strange eyes are never good. Stay away from any eyes you see in that forest, Sam!' and I say he's right. Besides, I'm just a ninnyhammer and a nuisance, as the Gaffer used to say. More of a hindrance than a help."

Master Frodo looked amused.

"Well, Sam," he said. "If those eyes are evil, like I said when we were nearing Mordor, pass 'ninnyhammer' or any other names your Gaffer gave you to me."

I was silent. Nothing seemed to be making any noise.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by Master Frodo.

When the fellowship left Rivendell,

We never ever dreamed,

That we would all be seperated.

Split straight down the seams.

"Not very good, is it?" said Frodo.

I was stunned.

"Good? It was great! You could blow me down with a feather! Where did you get that?"

"I made it up."

I looked at my master. He took a deep breath, and sang again.

One of our number,

Young Boromir,

Is dead and gone,

Was slain that year.

We reached Bag End after a few minutes.

"Well Sam, it looks like you're off. I need some sleep. It is after all 2 o' clock in the morning. Good night Sam!" He turned to go in.

"Good night Master!" I called after him. Then I turned, and whistling Frodo's new song, walked off home.

End of Part One