Under a very old, leafy tree that sat on top of very old hill sat Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins. Sam was staring through half closed lids at the peak of a white tent that rose from the immaculate green pasture below. He exhaled loudly and scratched his ginger locks.
Frodo inspected his friend from head to toe. Sam's velvet suit jacket was close to his hair in color and it was impeccably clean. So was Sam's face as a matter of fact, which was a rarity. Frodo smiled with overwhelming pride and happiness for his fellow hobbit. His friend was getting married and no one deserved to enjoy a life that ended with 'happily ever after' more than Sam did.
Frodo brushed some stray pieces of dust and what not from his own finery before he turned to face Samwise.
"Are you ready Sam?" He asked gently. The hobbit in question looked at Frodo with a face that shone with the light of serenity and a quiet joy.
"Yes Mr. Frodo. Yes I am," was his answer. They looked at each other sending their feelings with their eyes. And each understood the other perfectly. After all, they had a strong bond of friendship that never ends and never ends to be mysterious.
"Come on then," Frodo urged, rising to his feet. "Don't want to keep your bride-to-be waiting eh?" Sam chuckled as he followed suit. The twinkle in his eye caught Frodo's attention.
"What are you grinning at?"
"Oh…it's me who's been waitin' Mr. Frodo. An' I don't intend to do much more," Sam told his companion. Frodo grinned and then laughed.
"You ass! Come along!" He clapped his hand Samwise's back causing his friend to trot forward.
And so they went, down the old hill to pasture where a young and beautiful hobbit named Rosie Cotton stood waiting, if only for a little while (and rather impatiently), for the one and only Samwise Gamgee, gardener extraordinaire and part time Ring bearer.