When it was Over
by T. Baggins
I think Rosie said it best, after I told her everything. She said, "It's perfectly understandable. You two were out there, not knowing if you'd live or die, it's perfectly understandable that you'd grow.....close." Close. Close? I was mad in love with him, that's what. In love with all that those two words imply. Love. Sometime after the fellowship broke I stopped calling him 'Master' and dropped the 'Mister' from his name. I called him "Love" and "Dearest Frodo" and "Sweetheart." He said similar to me. Before that we would steal a kiss or two, or hold hands. In Moria we used the dark to hide in, tender kisses, cuddling, petting each other. Whispered "I love you's" in the night. Staring at the moon in Lothlorian. Trembling with desire, but still afraid to take the final step. Even after we were alone, we ventured only to touch and stroke through fabric. Never did flesh meet flesh. Proprieties, even in the dark dispare of Mordor. I wanted to, though. Oh! How I wanted to! How I wanted to push him down and bare his sweet flesh. To kiss every inch of that creamy white skin. To make him cry out my name and scream and claw my back. But, then, my experience had been entirely with females. I was thinking of him that way. Even though I knew for a fact Frodo was a lad, I couldn't help transforming him in my fantasies.
And when it was over, Rosie said she understood. She assured me the feelings I had for Mr. Frodo would fade over time. She said she'd help me get over them. She said the love of a good woman, a home and family would cure me. As if he were some sort of desease! But, at the time, I agreed with her. So we were married and he invited us to live with him. I was glad for that, really. He needed looking after. Fool that I was I tried to teach Rose how to care for him. He likes his tea this way. He prefers wine to ale. He needs solitude and quiet. This is how to fix his eggs. This is how to coax him to eat. She put up with it for a while, then gave up. Then Frodo and I left together and rode to the sea with Merry and Pippin. We saw Gandalf and Bilbo and Lord Elrond. The ship was waiting. I bid him farewell and watched as he started for the ship. But he stopped and Gandalf said, "What is wrong, Frodo? Do you not wish to go?"
"I never got my wish." Frodo whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek. The wizard knelt and said softly, "But, you have, dear Frodo. It is there, waiting, all you need do is take it." And, suddenly, my arms were full of trembling, sobbing hobbit. He clung to me, crying in my ear, "I love you! I love you!" I looked over to see Gandalf smiling and nodding, "It was his wish, Samwise. The only reward he wanted was to spend the rest of his life with you." I hugged him close then and knew my love for him was still alive, still strong. Rosie had been wrong. This was no disease that I could be cured of.
We returned to BagEnd together and I could see the disappointment on her face. Once I had been torn in two, but I was healing fast. My heart belonged to Frodo, my beloved. I tried to be a husband to Rosie, a father o to our children. I wanted to be a lover to Frodo, but he refused my advances. He grew weaker and more frail. His illnesses became more frequent. Rose and I started arguing over him. Our words, at first whispered, became shouting as the years passed. At last she turned me out of her bed and locked the door at night. I took to sleeping in one of the small back bedrooms. The tension in the house was unbearable, I knew it was doing the children no good. Then, one fine Spring day, I got up to an empty house. Just a note on the kitchen table. Rosie had taken the children and gone to her aunt's home in Willowbottom, she would send a wagon for their things later. And with those words our marriage ended.
And when it was over I wondered what I had done wrong. I was angry at myself, angry at poor Frodo. I found myself regretting bringing him back from the boat. I found myself contemplating terrible things. Killing him and myself. Poisoning him. No one would suspect a thing if I done that. He was so sickly anyway. But, I could do neither. Then, one day, he looked up at me, those clear blue eyes shining with love and said, "Sam, my love, come lay with me."
And when it was over I lay there holding him in my arms, hiding small kisses among the soft curls. I could feel the tears on my face as I stared up at the ceiling. This was all that he had wanted, his only reward. His only reward for carrying that evil so far and so long. His only wish after being battered, beaten and tortured in both mind and body. A simple thing really. To spend the rest of his life with....me!
I knew he'd grown dependent on me during our journey. I knew, even then, he loved me. It wasn't just the stress of the quest for him. He loved me. I realized that as I held him. How peaceful he looked, a soft smile on his face. I whispered "I loves you, Frodo." and felt his lips move against my neck, "I know."
And when it was over, when all was said and done, when the book was finally closed Frodo Baggins had his reward, his one wish. We lived together, and loved, for the rest of his life.
by T. Baggins
I think Rosie said it best, after I told her everything. She said, "It's perfectly understandable. You two were out there, not knowing if you'd live or die, it's perfectly understandable that you'd grow.....close." Close. Close? I was mad in love with him, that's what. In love with all that those two words imply. Love. Sometime after the fellowship broke I stopped calling him 'Master' and dropped the 'Mister' from his name. I called him "Love" and "Dearest Frodo" and "Sweetheart." He said similar to me. Before that we would steal a kiss or two, or hold hands. In Moria we used the dark to hide in, tender kisses, cuddling, petting each other. Whispered "I love you's" in the night. Staring at the moon in Lothlorian. Trembling with desire, but still afraid to take the final step. Even after we were alone, we ventured only to touch and stroke through fabric. Never did flesh meet flesh. Proprieties, even in the dark dispare of Mordor. I wanted to, though. Oh! How I wanted to! How I wanted to push him down and bare his sweet flesh. To kiss every inch of that creamy white skin. To make him cry out my name and scream and claw my back. But, then, my experience had been entirely with females. I was thinking of him that way. Even though I knew for a fact Frodo was a lad, I couldn't help transforming him in my fantasies.
And when it was over, Rosie said she understood. She assured me the feelings I had for Mr. Frodo would fade over time. She said she'd help me get over them. She said the love of a good woman, a home and family would cure me. As if he were some sort of desease! But, at the time, I agreed with her. So we were married and he invited us to live with him. I was glad for that, really. He needed looking after. Fool that I was I tried to teach Rose how to care for him. He likes his tea this way. He prefers wine to ale. He needs solitude and quiet. This is how to fix his eggs. This is how to coax him to eat. She put up with it for a while, then gave up. Then Frodo and I left together and rode to the sea with Merry and Pippin. We saw Gandalf and Bilbo and Lord Elrond. The ship was waiting. I bid him farewell and watched as he started for the ship. But he stopped and Gandalf said, "What is wrong, Frodo? Do you not wish to go?"
"I never got my wish." Frodo whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek. The wizard knelt and said softly, "But, you have, dear Frodo. It is there, waiting, all you need do is take it." And, suddenly, my arms were full of trembling, sobbing hobbit. He clung to me, crying in my ear, "I love you! I love you!" I looked over to see Gandalf smiling and nodding, "It was his wish, Samwise. The only reward he wanted was to spend the rest of his life with you." I hugged him close then and knew my love for him was still alive, still strong. Rosie had been wrong. This was no disease that I could be cured of.
We returned to BagEnd together and I could see the disappointment on her face. Once I had been torn in two, but I was healing fast. My heart belonged to Frodo, my beloved. I tried to be a husband to Rosie, a father o to our children. I wanted to be a lover to Frodo, but he refused my advances. He grew weaker and more frail. His illnesses became more frequent. Rose and I started arguing over him. Our words, at first whispered, became shouting as the years passed. At last she turned me out of her bed and locked the door at night. I took to sleeping in one of the small back bedrooms. The tension in the house was unbearable, I knew it was doing the children no good. Then, one fine Spring day, I got up to an empty house. Just a note on the kitchen table. Rosie had taken the children and gone to her aunt's home in Willowbottom, she would send a wagon for their things later. And with those words our marriage ended.
And when it was over I wondered what I had done wrong. I was angry at myself, angry at poor Frodo. I found myself regretting bringing him back from the boat. I found myself contemplating terrible things. Killing him and myself. Poisoning him. No one would suspect a thing if I done that. He was so sickly anyway. But, I could do neither. Then, one day, he looked up at me, those clear blue eyes shining with love and said, "Sam, my love, come lay with me."
And when it was over I lay there holding him in my arms, hiding small kisses among the soft curls. I could feel the tears on my face as I stared up at the ceiling. This was all that he had wanted, his only reward. His only reward for carrying that evil so far and so long. His only wish after being battered, beaten and tortured in both mind and body. A simple thing really. To spend the rest of his life with....me!
I knew he'd grown dependent on me during our journey. I knew, even then, he loved me. It wasn't just the stress of the quest for him. He loved me. I realized that as I held him. How peaceful he looked, a soft smile on his face. I whispered "I loves you, Frodo." and felt his lips move against my neck, "I know."
And when it was over, when all was said and done, when the book was finally closed Frodo Baggins had his reward, his one wish. We lived together, and loved, for the rest of his life.
