Thoughts
By Talking Hawk
Bringing You Up-To-Date: Okay, let's say that you're one of those peeps who have not read this story's prequel, "Three Blind Spies." Instead of "forcing" (not that I can, anyway…) you to go back and read it, all you need to know is this – Merry and Pippin thought Rosie was having an affair with the local physician, Frodo got involved, and in the end, everyone – including Sam – discovered that Rosie was pregnant. This story takes place the night after everyone found out the news, and Sam is walking along down a road, talking to Frodo.
The ACTUAL Author's Note: Sam and Frodo are sort of out-of-character, this isn't a slash by any stretch of anyone's imagination, and this just sort of reflects my ponderings on what Sam thinks about the whole "affair" thing…yeah.
They walked in silence, their feet plodding about the cool earth. It had been awhile since the sun had begun to set, and by this time, the land had lost its warmth. But the pair didn't mind, for after working in the garden all day – Frodo *attempting* to help, mind you – and visiting the local pub, the Red Dragon, they welcomed both the cool earth and wind.
A question had been tickling the Baggins' mind, but he had not gotten enough nerve to ask it all day. He sighed, the idea harassing him so endlessly. He had to say something, he convinced himself. Finally, he blurted the words out.
"Do you think Rosie would ever have an affair?"
The Gamgee stopped, and turned to his friend, raising an eyebrow. Sam stared at him a long moment. Feeling guilty, Frodo lowered his eyes and said, "I know – it is a silly question. Still…" Raising his blue eyes once more to meet his former employee's, a sort of worry radiated from him. He was concerned for his servant.
His face solemn, Sam spoke, "Honestly?…" Frodo nodded. "No, I don't a- think so, Mr. Frodo." The Gamgee then chuckled a bit. "I don't think I'm any sort of fit husband for a lady like Rose, but I think she's content enough." He turned about, and continued walking.
Frodo ran ahead of him, standing between him and the rest of the road. He glared hotly, his hands set upon his hips. "Sam, that is pure nonsense! You're a finer husband than most men anywhere could ever hope to be."
Sam blinked, surprised by such a reaction. "Well, gee, Mr. Frodo… Didn't know ya felt so strongly 'bout the matter…"
The Baggins shrugged, crossing his arms. "Well, it's true. Besides…" A pause. "…I'm never going to be married myself, so it's a sort of relief that a friend of mine such as yourself is going off in that direction…"
It was now Sam's turn to glare. "Don't say such things! 'Course yer goin' to find yerself a lady-friend!"
The Baggins laughed, though not too harshly. The pair began walking again – Sam at a slow pace, staring intently at his friend whilst Frodo did a sort of skip. "I do not think so, Sam…" Frodo said, though the words were not heart-felt, or even the least bit sad. "The hobbits here already thought I was strange before the Journey…and…" He stopped, and frowned at his maimed hand.
Sam frowned as well, then narrowed his eyes in anger. "It really shouldn't *matter*, Mr. Frodo!" He took the other's hand, and Frodo blinked at him.
"How do you mean?"
"Well," the Gamgee said, staring down at the finger stump, "the people here shouldn't care about petty things like that. …I don't."
Frodo smiled, and chuckled. "Well, you're quite an odd one too."
Sam appeared hurt by this friendly jest. "I was just a-sayin'…if Rosie could ever come to fancy me, there's got to be someone out there for you…"
Not all too comfortable with the subject, the older hobbit removed his hand from the grasp of the other. His eyes lowered, he said, "Maybe we should change the topic…" Sam slowly nodded.
"Now," Frodo said, his face brightening slightly, "about your wife having an affair…"
"Oh, fine then," Sam laughed. "Make it any easier on me, eh?"
The Baggins looked at his friend and chuckled as well. "My apologies. I am merely curious…"
Sam sighed, giving up. "Oh, all right… What do ya want to know?"
Frodo frowned a bit, guilt shining in his eyes. "We don't have to talk about it if you do not wish to…"
"No," his friend said, very much wanting to relieve his friend of any sort of guilt. He didn't want Mr. Frodo to suffer anymore than he already had after the whole Mt. Doom and ring fiasco. "It is all right." Sam tried to smile to prove his point. "Go right along ahead and ask…"
"Well…" Frodo began awkwardly. "I wanted to know…how you would feel if Rosie really was having an affair with the doctor…"
There was a long pause, and Sam blinked thoughtfully. "Well…I suppose I'd gain fifty pounds from stuffin' me face!" The gardener grinned as his friend gave him a sour glare. "Honestly, Sam," Frodo said, "I want you to give me an honest answer – how would you feel? What would you do?"
Sam frowned, and slowly sighed, crossing his arms. He thought a moment, then said, "Want to sit down somewhere…? My feet are killin' me…" "All right."
They walked a bit off the dirt road until they came to the edge of the grass, and plopped down on its soft cushion – well, Frodo did, not used to gardening for a full day, while Sam gracefully squatted down, taking out his pipe while he was at it. Frodo blinked at him, knowing that his friend didn't smoke too often – he sometimes did it as a pastime, and rarely when he was meditating upon something.
This triggered a memory for Frodo that made him smile.
* * *
One day, a few months earlier, he had passed by Bagshot 3 Row, where Sam had once lived with the rest of his family. He had found his friend on the porch, smoking his pipe, intently staring at something. Concerned, Frodo had approached him and asked, "Sam? Are you all right?"
This had startled the other hobbit, making him nearly fall off his seat. Frodo lifted an eyebrow, and Sam had exclaimed, "Mr. Frodo! Ya scared the livin' daylights outta me!"
"My apologies…" Frodo had sat next to the Gamgee. "What is on your mind? You look like you were thinking about something…"
A long pause had ensued. "…Do you really want to know?"
"Of course!"
Sam yanked at his top collar button, gulping nervously. "Well…I was talkin' to Rosie, and…"
"And…?" Frodo prodded, intrigued. Nothing could have prepared him for the next four words he was about to hear…
"…She proposed to me."
Frodo's eyes had rolled back into his head, and he promptly fainted. Startled, Sam asked, "…Mr. Frodo…? Mr. Frodo, are ya dead…?" He waved a hand over his friend's face. Not sure what else to say, he said, "…Yoooohoooooooo…!"
* * *
Frodo chuckled. Sam and Rosie were quite a marvel to him. They had been fond of each other for years, and then when Sam finally got enough nerve to talk to her, they just…"clicked," as Frodo put it. They were two opposites, but when they were together, they balanced out in such a way that everyone they knew, knew that the pair belonged together.
The Baggins, despite his initial reaction, loved the idea that Rosie had been the one to propose. More than once had he begged Sam to retell him the story, to which his friend always reluctantly complied. The gardener was never able to be the initiator when it came to lady hobbits, so it was quite understandable – to Frodo, at least – that Rosie would've been the one to ask for the other's hand in marriage.
His thoughts were interrupted when Sam finally spoke, "I think I've got me answer…" Frodo nodded and turned his complete attention to the other hobbit, who sighed.
"I think…I think I would, well, be heartbroken, Mr. Frodo." He puffed again at his pipe, and his companion frowned. "I would-a probably be too sad to even be angry, really…"
"And what would you do?…"
Sam shrugged, staring ahead of him. "Not quite sure. I don' believe I'd leave her, though…" He glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, who gave him a curious look. "You see," the Gamgee explained, "despite how terrible I'd feel…I think I'd still love her."
Frodo smiled weakly. "That's what I told her, Sam…" Quizically, the gardener raised an eyebrow at the other. "Back at the restaurant, when Merry confronted her about it…I told her that. I just knew it was true…"
Sam nodded, and smiled, turning back to the horizon. "Ya know me well."
The former ringbearer inhaled deeply, looking at the stars that began appearing against the blanket of black. "I can't help but feel we're all undeserving, Sam…"
"Of what?"
Frodo smiled once more. "Your love."
Author's Second Note: FRIENDSHIP love, peeps…except for Rosie (dang it, she got to him FIRST! Curses…). =) Please review, and tell me your lovely thoughts… (Sam: Aww…you're so romantic with your readers! Me: WHAAAT?! I'm not being romantic with them! Most of them are my gender, anyway… Sam: o_O Sorry, misinterpretation there… Me: YES…*is very heterosexual, though she does not have anything against people who are not…; decides to stop typing*)
By Talking Hawk
Bringing You Up-To-Date: Okay, let's say that you're one of those peeps who have not read this story's prequel, "Three Blind Spies." Instead of "forcing" (not that I can, anyway…) you to go back and read it, all you need to know is this – Merry and Pippin thought Rosie was having an affair with the local physician, Frodo got involved, and in the end, everyone – including Sam – discovered that Rosie was pregnant. This story takes place the night after everyone found out the news, and Sam is walking along down a road, talking to Frodo.
The ACTUAL Author's Note: Sam and Frodo are sort of out-of-character, this isn't a slash by any stretch of anyone's imagination, and this just sort of reflects my ponderings on what Sam thinks about the whole "affair" thing…yeah.
They walked in silence, their feet plodding about the cool earth. It had been awhile since the sun had begun to set, and by this time, the land had lost its warmth. But the pair didn't mind, for after working in the garden all day – Frodo *attempting* to help, mind you – and visiting the local pub, the Red Dragon, they welcomed both the cool earth and wind.
A question had been tickling the Baggins' mind, but he had not gotten enough nerve to ask it all day. He sighed, the idea harassing him so endlessly. He had to say something, he convinced himself. Finally, he blurted the words out.
"Do you think Rosie would ever have an affair?"
The Gamgee stopped, and turned to his friend, raising an eyebrow. Sam stared at him a long moment. Feeling guilty, Frodo lowered his eyes and said, "I know – it is a silly question. Still…" Raising his blue eyes once more to meet his former employee's, a sort of worry radiated from him. He was concerned for his servant.
His face solemn, Sam spoke, "Honestly?…" Frodo nodded. "No, I don't a- think so, Mr. Frodo." The Gamgee then chuckled a bit. "I don't think I'm any sort of fit husband for a lady like Rose, but I think she's content enough." He turned about, and continued walking.
Frodo ran ahead of him, standing between him and the rest of the road. He glared hotly, his hands set upon his hips. "Sam, that is pure nonsense! You're a finer husband than most men anywhere could ever hope to be."
Sam blinked, surprised by such a reaction. "Well, gee, Mr. Frodo… Didn't know ya felt so strongly 'bout the matter…"
The Baggins shrugged, crossing his arms. "Well, it's true. Besides…" A pause. "…I'm never going to be married myself, so it's a sort of relief that a friend of mine such as yourself is going off in that direction…"
It was now Sam's turn to glare. "Don't say such things! 'Course yer goin' to find yerself a lady-friend!"
The Baggins laughed, though not too harshly. The pair began walking again – Sam at a slow pace, staring intently at his friend whilst Frodo did a sort of skip. "I do not think so, Sam…" Frodo said, though the words were not heart-felt, or even the least bit sad. "The hobbits here already thought I was strange before the Journey…and…" He stopped, and frowned at his maimed hand.
Sam frowned as well, then narrowed his eyes in anger. "It really shouldn't *matter*, Mr. Frodo!" He took the other's hand, and Frodo blinked at him.
"How do you mean?"
"Well," the Gamgee said, staring down at the finger stump, "the people here shouldn't care about petty things like that. …I don't."
Frodo smiled, and chuckled. "Well, you're quite an odd one too."
Sam appeared hurt by this friendly jest. "I was just a-sayin'…if Rosie could ever come to fancy me, there's got to be someone out there for you…"
Not all too comfortable with the subject, the older hobbit removed his hand from the grasp of the other. His eyes lowered, he said, "Maybe we should change the topic…" Sam slowly nodded.
"Now," Frodo said, his face brightening slightly, "about your wife having an affair…"
"Oh, fine then," Sam laughed. "Make it any easier on me, eh?"
The Baggins looked at his friend and chuckled as well. "My apologies. I am merely curious…"
Sam sighed, giving up. "Oh, all right… What do ya want to know?"
Frodo frowned a bit, guilt shining in his eyes. "We don't have to talk about it if you do not wish to…"
"No," his friend said, very much wanting to relieve his friend of any sort of guilt. He didn't want Mr. Frodo to suffer anymore than he already had after the whole Mt. Doom and ring fiasco. "It is all right." Sam tried to smile to prove his point. "Go right along ahead and ask…"
"Well…" Frodo began awkwardly. "I wanted to know…how you would feel if Rosie really was having an affair with the doctor…"
There was a long pause, and Sam blinked thoughtfully. "Well…I suppose I'd gain fifty pounds from stuffin' me face!" The gardener grinned as his friend gave him a sour glare. "Honestly, Sam," Frodo said, "I want you to give me an honest answer – how would you feel? What would you do?"
Sam frowned, and slowly sighed, crossing his arms. He thought a moment, then said, "Want to sit down somewhere…? My feet are killin' me…" "All right."
They walked a bit off the dirt road until they came to the edge of the grass, and plopped down on its soft cushion – well, Frodo did, not used to gardening for a full day, while Sam gracefully squatted down, taking out his pipe while he was at it. Frodo blinked at him, knowing that his friend didn't smoke too often – he sometimes did it as a pastime, and rarely when he was meditating upon something.
This triggered a memory for Frodo that made him smile.
* * *
One day, a few months earlier, he had passed by Bagshot 3 Row, where Sam had once lived with the rest of his family. He had found his friend on the porch, smoking his pipe, intently staring at something. Concerned, Frodo had approached him and asked, "Sam? Are you all right?"
This had startled the other hobbit, making him nearly fall off his seat. Frodo lifted an eyebrow, and Sam had exclaimed, "Mr. Frodo! Ya scared the livin' daylights outta me!"
"My apologies…" Frodo had sat next to the Gamgee. "What is on your mind? You look like you were thinking about something…"
A long pause had ensued. "…Do you really want to know?"
"Of course!"
Sam yanked at his top collar button, gulping nervously. "Well…I was talkin' to Rosie, and…"
"And…?" Frodo prodded, intrigued. Nothing could have prepared him for the next four words he was about to hear…
"…She proposed to me."
Frodo's eyes had rolled back into his head, and he promptly fainted. Startled, Sam asked, "…Mr. Frodo…? Mr. Frodo, are ya dead…?" He waved a hand over his friend's face. Not sure what else to say, he said, "…Yoooohoooooooo…!"
* * *
Frodo chuckled. Sam and Rosie were quite a marvel to him. They had been fond of each other for years, and then when Sam finally got enough nerve to talk to her, they just…"clicked," as Frodo put it. They were two opposites, but when they were together, they balanced out in such a way that everyone they knew, knew that the pair belonged together.
The Baggins, despite his initial reaction, loved the idea that Rosie had been the one to propose. More than once had he begged Sam to retell him the story, to which his friend always reluctantly complied. The gardener was never able to be the initiator when it came to lady hobbits, so it was quite understandable – to Frodo, at least – that Rosie would've been the one to ask for the other's hand in marriage.
His thoughts were interrupted when Sam finally spoke, "I think I've got me answer…" Frodo nodded and turned his complete attention to the other hobbit, who sighed.
"I think…I think I would, well, be heartbroken, Mr. Frodo." He puffed again at his pipe, and his companion frowned. "I would-a probably be too sad to even be angry, really…"
"And what would you do?…"
Sam shrugged, staring ahead of him. "Not quite sure. I don' believe I'd leave her, though…" He glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, who gave him a curious look. "You see," the Gamgee explained, "despite how terrible I'd feel…I think I'd still love her."
Frodo smiled weakly. "That's what I told her, Sam…" Quizically, the gardener raised an eyebrow at the other. "Back at the restaurant, when Merry confronted her about it…I told her that. I just knew it was true…"
Sam nodded, and smiled, turning back to the horizon. "Ya know me well."
The former ringbearer inhaled deeply, looking at the stars that began appearing against the blanket of black. "I can't help but feel we're all undeserving, Sam…"
"Of what?"
Frodo smiled once more. "Your love."
Author's Second Note: FRIENDSHIP love, peeps…except for Rosie (dang it, she got to him FIRST! Curses…). =) Please review, and tell me your lovely thoughts… (Sam: Aww…you're so romantic with your readers! Me: WHAAAT?! I'm not being romantic with them! Most of them are my gender, anyway… Sam: o_O Sorry, misinterpretation there… Me: YES…*is very heterosexual, though she does not have anything against people who are not…; decides to stop typing*)
