When he woke up, Frodo realised at once that he was not dead. No, Sam had surely seen to that. He was lying on a comfortable bed, soft and wide, his head resting on what seemed to him the best pillow he had ever laid his curly head on.

In front of him sat Gandalf, looking at him with a sweet smile, and a glint of sadness in the eye. Frodo smiled fondly at him, and the wizard smiled back, nodding his white head.

And then, as in a dream, the rest of the Fellowship came in, all smiling at him or – for Merry and Pippin – jumping on the bed and telling him their own part of the adventure. At last, in came Sam, but as the attention of all was drawn to Frodo, no one but him seemed to notice him.

They exchanged a secret smile, Frodo's was grateful, and Sam's was shy.

'It's all because of you,' Frodo thought, but could not say the words as everyone was around him, taking his attention some way or another.

When he looked up at Sam once again, he found him gone, and Frodo wondered where his friend had gone to without him.

And why was he not taking care of his master like he always did, and loved to do?

Not that Frodo demanded he be at his service, not after all he had already done, but he still found it curious that the gardener was suddenly drifting away from him. Was it something he had done? He knew that he had said lots of terrible things to him on the Journey, because of that accursed Ring. Was Sam hurt?

There where many a feast given in Frodo's honour, and Sam's name was in everyone's mouth as well, and Frodo felt grateful for it, though it did not understand all that was said about his friend.

Yet, their was still no trace of his companion.

Frodo felt tired, and wished to go back to his bed, when he caught a glimpse of the gardener in the crowd. He called after him and Sam turned his head, smiled, and disappeared among the people.

Too tired to look for Sam throughout the vast city, Frodo went straight to his room, undressed, and slipped under the covers of his large bed. He had barely closed his eyes that he felt someone moving in beside him.

'Sam,' he whispered.

Without a word, the gardener wrapped his arms around Frodo, and the Ringbearer relaxed and sighed with contentment.

Sammath Naur. The Ring is gone. Lost forever. The fires of the mountain are roaring. Sam takes Frodo by the arm and leads him outside, to a safe place, to life.

When the sun peered into the room, Frodo opened his eyes to find Sam had gone once again, leaving the bed as if he had never been there at all. He smiled: this was Sam's way, no doubt, always tidying up behind him.

As he got dressed, Frodo tried to remember his dream: oh, yes, Sam saving him from the fires of Mount Doom. But where was he now? He had been acting so strangely since they had returned! Well, of course, the gardener must be tired after all they had been through, but to disappear like that! It was really not like Sam to leave Frodo on his own, especially after their ordeal.

Frodo left his room, and headed for the courtyard, for a breath of fresh air: maybe Sam was there? On his way, he passed by a door that was left ajar and heard familiar voices. Gandalf and Aragorn were talking together, and the hobbit was about to knock and say "Good morning", when he was stopped dead in his tracks.

'He doesn't understand, Gandalf! He just doesn't see! We must tell him.'

'We must give him time, Aragorn, he's not ready to face the truth. Did you hear what he said about the destruction of the Ring? About how Sam led him outside, to safety? He needs to have his own truth for a while. Then, when he's ready, we'll know what happened to his companion.'

'But we must honour him, Gandalf, we must honour our friend's memory!'

'Maybe there's no dead to honour.'

'My friend, your heart has never lied to you, and neither has mine. I know he's gone, I just don't know how.'

The wizard sighed.

'Gandalf, go to him, please, it is folly to leave him into his own illusion. If you can't, maybe Meriadoc and Peregrïn could...'

The door opened and Frodo appeared, looking completely at a loss. He turned to Gandalf, then to Aragorn, then again to Gandalf, and said in a small voice:

'He's just upset, I've been acting so harshly with him when I carried the Ring.'

'Frodo...'

'He... he came to my room last night, so I think he doesn't begrudge me too much,' he added, his voice cracking a little. 'I just don't know what to say to him.'

'Frodo... it could not be him...'

'But... but...', his face was turning grey, and panic was filling his heart. His breathing got shorter and shorter, and his head began to spin.

'Frodo,' Gandalf said in a soft voice, 'please, sit down.'

He guided him to a chair and Frodo sat. He was still breathing fast, and he looked all around him, as if he suddenly realised where he was.

'Sam... Sam... Gandalf where is he?'

'My friend, I have no idea.'

'I... no, I'm positive he was there yesterday. But well, you know how Sam is, he didn't want to be the centre of attentions, so he just left, but he didn't tell me where he went to. Well, I was very tired, so I went to sleep and he joined me. Yes, of that I'm sure, I... I... No, he's here, somewhere. Gandalf, you're a wizard for pity's sake! You must find him! Find him Gandalf, and bring him to me, for I have one thing or two to say to him! What? Disappearing like that, and playing hide and seek with me? I TOLD him Gandalf, I TOLD him not to eavesdrop! And where is he know? Jumped down a dragon's throat, has he?' Frodo laughed an insane kind of laugh. He was pacing to and fro in front of the chair and talking very fast. 'You're in for trouble Samwise Gamgee, just you wait! Ah! You can't swim Sam! You know you can't, you thick-headed hobbit! Don't follow, I told you NOT to follow! Did not jump down a dragon's throat, but walked right into that tower, full of orcs it was! Samwise you fool! And then what? Oh, Sam, Sam...'

Gandalf tried to interrupt, but Frodo kept on and on.

'No Gandalf, he's a clever one, my Sam is, and if he doesn't want us to find him, we won't. Ahah, that's my lad. He knows how to disguise, he could be dressed up like an orc! I did tell him, you know, I said 'Don't follow, I'm going alone', but he never listens. Not when he's set his mind to something! He could have broken his back, carrying me up the mountain like that! Broken his back, dearest Sam... I can't believe you can't find him!'

Now Frodo was looking straight at Gandalf, his whole body tensed with anger. He was no longer talking, but screaming, and Gandalf and Aragorn seemed small compared to the hobbit's fury.

'Jumped down a dragon's throat! That did serve him well! No, that was not enough! Jumped down the river, and down the tunnel, and then the tower, and what then? Jumped down the Crack of Doom, taking Gollum and the Ring with him, that's what he did!'

The blood in the wizard's and the king's veins froze. Frodo was panting now, unable to utter another word. The atrocity of what he had just said seemed to dawn on him, and he looked haggard.

Slowly, he sat back in the chair, and his gaze still unfocused, he said, his voice almost inaudible:

'I told him Gandlaf! I told him not to follow! I'm going to Mordor alone! But he would have none of it! I... I could not do it. Could not drop the Ring, and Gollum took it, and Sam... Sam...'

There was a silence, thick and ice-cold. Then Frodo let out a long yell of rage, then he fell off the chair to his knees and vomited. Gandalf crouched beside him and stroked his back slowly.

Eyes full of tears, he whispered to himself: 'What have I done?'

Thegardenerisrunningdownthepath.Aroundhim,thegrassisgreenandthesunshines,bathingthesceneingoldenlight.Frodorunsafterhim,butfindsitdifficulttocatchupwithhim.

'Sam! Sam! Wait!' he laughs.

'Now, Mr Frodo sir, you're not to follow me!'

'I'll do as I please! Come on Sam, wait!'

'Please sir, go back!' Sam answers, without turning back, and his tone is serious.

Frodo stops, and Sam keeps running. His form becomes smaller as he gets further away.

'NO!' Frodo yells. And with a sudden jolt, he starts again, running as fast as never he has before, and soon Sam is just an arm's length away. Frodo tries to reach for him, but Sam runs faster.

Gathering all his strength, Frodo jumps on his friend's back, pinning him to the ground. He cannot help laughing, but Sam keeps his seriousness.

'Let me go Mr Frodo, you can't take me back.'

'But Sam...'

'I was to follow you sir, not the other way round. Go back, please.'

'Sam! Don't leave me here all alone!'

'I can't let you come with me!', Sam snaps back.

Frodo lets go of him, and Sam gets up and walks away. But Frodo does not move, and dully says:

'It's because of me you have to go away, because of my weakness that you sacrificed yourself! If I'm not to follow you, then I rather stay here.'

Sam stops and turns around. There is a sad look in his eyes, and yet he smiles a little.

'Sir, don't do that, don't stay here all alone. You won't be alone if you go back.'

'I'll be alone without you!' Frodo screams like bad-tempered child.

Sam hesitates, then sits beside his master, who instantly throws himself into the gardener's arms.

'I'd rather let Evil rule Middle Earth than stay here without you.'

'You can't say that!'

'Oh Sam, let me follow you as you would have followed me. You do remember, right?'

Sam nods. His eyes fill with tears, and he tighten his arms around Frodo.

'Come on Sam, I'm not afraid, I can't be with you at my side.'

They stand up, and walking hand in hand, they slowly disappear in the distance, among the green grass, bathed in the shining sun...

The heroes looked like two sleeping figures. The first one lay on his back, solemn, his hands joined on his chest, holding a dagger and an elanor flower. The other one was curled up at his side, his head resting on his friend's shoulder.

But the shoulder was not pillow-soft, and the elanor gave no sweet perfume, for they were made of hard, smooth alabaster. Both flesh and stone were now like two parts of the same broken body ; and when the other hero was celebrated for the very last time, they let them lie side by side, alabaster against alabaster, never to be parted again.