Authors Notes: A Sam/Frodo fic, because it seems quite a few of you
enjoyed 'Three Little Words'. I couldn't figure out a sequel, so here's a
new one. If you don't like males liking male, please press the BACK button.
Thank you. None of these characters are mine! --Dommieay ((Sam's
POV))
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The sun was fading from the evening sky, and the shadows began to lengthen. A small breeze began to pick up, and I shivered as I buried deeper in my cloak. I couldn't sleep well this night, and I knew why.
It seemed like both a curse, and a blessing to be here with him; a curse, for I knew that he would never return my feelings, and a blessing, just to be nearby him. I shook my head. I seemed to always have been around him, but nobody thought odd of it, seeing as I was his Gardener.
Aragorn was on watch, and was talking to the golden-haired elf, Legolas. They seemed to be close friends. I never really trusted Aragorn, but for Frodo's sake, I tried my hardest to be civil. Legolas fascinated me, for I was always entranced by the elves.
I had once been told that orcs were once elves, and the thought scared me. They were beautiful creatures, and orcs were so foul and ugly, with only a desire to kill. It made me shudder in distaste.
I looked over at my sleeping master, and I knew his dreams were not peaceful. He never seemed to sleep peacefully anymore. I just watched him for awhile, silently worshipping, like I always did, and most likely always will. He would never, ever return my feelings. The cold breeze blew again, ruffling Frodo's hair. I noticed him shiver, so I reached over, and pulled the blanket more snugly around him.
His hair had been brushed into his face, the brown locks contrasting beautifully with his skin. Frodo was unlike any hobbit I had ever met, and was not ashamed to say it. I wonder what my gaffer would say, if he say me just silently adoring the master of Bag End.
I often wondered what he dreamed of. Home, maybe, I knew that was one of the things I dreamt about. He would sometimes ask what I did really dreamed of, but I only ever gave him a half answer. He would hate me if I told him the whole truth.
I turned, and saw Legolas had left Aragorn, for Boromir had taken the watch. It would be dawn soon, and I knew I should get some sleep, and dream. But would a dream be anymore different then what I saw when I was awake? His piercing blue eyes, his dark brown hair, and soft voice.. Oh, there I was, going off into my own little fantasy world again.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked around. Aragorn was standing there, and he gave a small smile to me. 'Get some sleep, Sam. You'll need it.' I nodded, and lay down. Once Aragorn had left, I turned to Frodo, my master, and my life. I knew he couldn't hear me, so I took the chance to tell him what Ii would never say to his face.
'I love you, Mr Frodo, and don't you forget it.'
The sun was fading from the evening sky, and the shadows began to lengthen. A small breeze began to pick up, and I shivered as I buried deeper in my cloak. I couldn't sleep well this night, and I knew why.
It seemed like both a curse, and a blessing to be here with him; a curse, for I knew that he would never return my feelings, and a blessing, just to be nearby him. I shook my head. I seemed to always have been around him, but nobody thought odd of it, seeing as I was his Gardener.
Aragorn was on watch, and was talking to the golden-haired elf, Legolas. They seemed to be close friends. I never really trusted Aragorn, but for Frodo's sake, I tried my hardest to be civil. Legolas fascinated me, for I was always entranced by the elves.
I had once been told that orcs were once elves, and the thought scared me. They were beautiful creatures, and orcs were so foul and ugly, with only a desire to kill. It made me shudder in distaste.
I looked over at my sleeping master, and I knew his dreams were not peaceful. He never seemed to sleep peacefully anymore. I just watched him for awhile, silently worshipping, like I always did, and most likely always will. He would never, ever return my feelings. The cold breeze blew again, ruffling Frodo's hair. I noticed him shiver, so I reached over, and pulled the blanket more snugly around him.
His hair had been brushed into his face, the brown locks contrasting beautifully with his skin. Frodo was unlike any hobbit I had ever met, and was not ashamed to say it. I wonder what my gaffer would say, if he say me just silently adoring the master of Bag End.
I often wondered what he dreamed of. Home, maybe, I knew that was one of the things I dreamt about. He would sometimes ask what I did really dreamed of, but I only ever gave him a half answer. He would hate me if I told him the whole truth.
I turned, and saw Legolas had left Aragorn, for Boromir had taken the watch. It would be dawn soon, and I knew I should get some sleep, and dream. But would a dream be anymore different then what I saw when I was awake? His piercing blue eyes, his dark brown hair, and soft voice.. Oh, there I was, going off into my own little fantasy world again.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked around. Aragorn was standing there, and he gave a small smile to me. 'Get some sleep, Sam. You'll need it.' I nodded, and lay down. Once Aragorn had left, I turned to Frodo, my master, and my life. I knew he couldn't hear me, so I took the chance to tell him what Ii would never say to his face.
'I love you, Mr Frodo, and don't you forget it.'