Chapter 34

A Heart so Tender

It was 2 o'clock in the morning. Sammy couldn't sleep. The excitement of the night bubbled within him and he could not stop thinking about Samwise Gamgee and all of the other Hobbits. His mind wandered around the conversations they had, the adorable children, the sweet scent of Mrs. Rosie and even the sight of furry feet on everyone, no longer just his father and himself. It delighted him to no end.

He tossed and turned, smiled and then giggled out loud. Finally he sat up with thoughts of writing it all down in his journal. "Maybe that will make me sleepy," he thought.

But there was a chill in the room as sometimes happens when one resides in a hole in the ground, so he got up and went into the parlor carrying his journal. The fire bellowed tiny sparks as he stoked it to get it blazing again and with a whoosh it flared up into a soothing roar. Sammy settled back upon two pillows on the sofa and drew his knees up to hold the book. Deep thoughts swirled in his mind for a moment or two, until he began to write with words that flowed swiftly. He was deep into the sixth page when he began to nod and before he reached the seventh, sleepiness finally came upon him. His head nodded twice, the book fell forward and his legs slipped down upon the cushion as his body slipped slowly into a deep slumber.

The house was silent, save the cackle of the fire as the front door gently clicked and a young, Hobbit lass, entered the room. With a smile on her face, she almost began to say 'Hullo Pop'. But she stopped short when she saw it wasn't whom she thought. She approached him slowly to see who he was, being cautious not to wake him. She began to smile as she neared the sofa.

"Who is this?" she thought, admiring his looks -his soft brown hair tussled and thick and his lashes lying like feathers upon his cheeks. "He is so familiar. How do I know him?" She jumped as he stirred a little, revealing the coma like dimples that kept him apart from his father. "No, I would remember him," she decided.

She stood and watched Sammy sleep for a moment or two, and then carefully she took up a throw from a chair and placed it over him, wondering if she should remove the book from his chest. Suddenly she had the urge to touch him, to stroke his brow, and caress his lips. He was breathing softly, his strong chest was rising up and down and she noted the fine material his shirt was made of. It had subtle weavings barely visible within the threads with designs that reminded her of the elvish art that her father had spoken of. And on the cuff of his sleeve was embroidered a tiny yellow rose.

She could have stood there and watched him all night, wanting badly to awaken him. But she held back in courtesy and flittering bashfulness. Finally, she went off to bed, utterly exhausted from attending a sick pony since the early morning hours of the previous day. But tired as she was, it took her a long time to fall asleep, for her mind would not leave the stranger. She wondered who he was and from whence he came.

It was several hours after dawn when Rose, daughter of Samwise, awoke to the sound of her younger siblings, laughing and giggling.

Robin called out, "Sammy, Sammy!"

Immediately Rose's eyes opened with remembrance of the startling discovery from the night before. She heard an unfamiliar voice talking -it was sweet and mellow. Quickly she rose and dressed, careful to put every hair in place and smooth every wrinkle from her dress. Curiosity was mounting as she entered the kitchen ever closer to the sound of his voice in the dining room. Peeking around the corner she saw him once again. Her little sisters were all around him.

"What is that?" Ruby asked pointing to a small intricate frame, straight on one side and eloquently curved on the other. It had many strings stretched across it, shimmering in shiny gold. And carved all along the outside of the soft brown wood were runes in delicate swirls and bold colors. A tiny flute was attached to one side, in readiness for a burst of inspiration.

"Well, 'that' is a musical instrument." Sammy said smiling at her. He was tickled at how adorable she was. Her soft brown hair fell into tiny swirls that framed her chubby little face. She was wearing a pink dress with tiny purple flowers dotted around the hem of her skirt. And her tiny little feet had smooth fur that was only just beginning to burst into curls. He had the urge to pick her up and cuddle her as he did for all of the Hobbit children he had seen.

"What kind of instrument?" she asked.

"I don't have a name for it. I designed it and my sister Eowyn, helped me to craft it. Would you like to hear it play?" Sammy asked as he picked it up.

"Yes!" She squealed excitedly.

"Alright, let me see," he said in a sweet voice. "Oh I know. These are words that my father wrote. He always said they were not very good, that they didn't do justice to the moment he first saw Aman, with my mother by his side. But I like them and I put them to music anyway. It goes like this."

"Aman!" thought Rose as she continued to spy. Now her curiosity had peaked and she dared to take one step further, poking her head around the corner so she could see his face. Then it hit her as her fresh and rested mind recalled the drawing in the parlor and the name of Frodo Baggins spilled in whisper from her lips. "Is this his son?" She asked herself. But her thoughts were stolen into distraction as the music began.

Sammy plucked softly at the strings and the words he sang were golden as they flowed from his lips like soft velvet. The sound of the strings played variously intricate. His talent was evident as he worked the notes as easily as he breathed.

Rose's heart was complete in that very moment, her breath taken away into the smooth tenor of his voice. And she was oblivious if the words were not very good. To her, they were enlightening as if an early spring day had entered in from a cold and darkly winter.

A night of rain in darkly gloom

To hold my pain in haunting doom

The voices taunt inside my head

Lingering, ere the softness of bed

Then rain comes down so thick, so cold

In pelting chants, my presence holds

Yet as the darkly echo grows

Cleansed am I in scents of rose

Now through the mist a song glimmers

Sweetened stars with silver shimmers

Love's gift arrives in warm embrace

To heal my heart, caress my face

The grey rain-curtain turns to silver glass

And parts across the sea at last

The sun bursts cross the waves in glory

To wrap us warm in golden morning

Beyond white sands and tittering waves

Lies land so green with echoing caves

With birds that flitter in golden light

They sing with wonder at this sight

And what is this that I foresee

A healing hand that touches me

And though love's pain is mine to hold

It touches her as well I'm told

And ever more our love grows sweet

Amidst this land that we will meet

New fellowship arises here

With those we hold in hearts so dear

The girls were silent, enchanted by the loveliness of the music as he played on with an intricate instrumental; the notes sang deep and sultry then fleeting soft, alluring. He stopped and sighed as memory of his parents tugged at him, but he shook it off with the tickle of a few lively cords and then he fell into a swift and gleeful tune. The girls squealed with delight and began dancing all around him. Rose could not hold back; she entered the room clapping in perfect rhythm, laughing and dancing.

Sammy was so startled with his first sight of her, he almost dropped his instrument! But his skill was brilliant and with complete recovery, he resumed playing as if the messed up notes were part of the song. He watched her dance, guiding the music to her movement. He could not take his eyes off her as his emotions exploded through the sound. The next thing he knew, everyone in the house stopped what they were doing and joined in the fun as the room filled with melodic giggles. Sam and Rosie came too, and Sammy chuckled over the way the elder couple got silly, dancing in twists and swirls to the gleeful notes right along with the children. Never before had he experienced such enthusiasm and glee with reaction to his music. They would not let him stop for a while, coaxing song after song from him until he finally collapsed on the sofa in exhausted laughter and his eyes sweetly upon young Rose.

It was three months later and Sammy had settled into a comfortable lifestyle oblivious to the murmurings that flowed around the Shire. Most revered him, the son of a notorious and respected hero. Many found him to be a delight that fulfilled their longing for Frodo. However, a few of the Hobbits were stuck in their ways in spite of the pain of war; they called him odd and 'cracked like his Dad' as they cackled through their ale. Then they would discuss his arrival on the mighty horses from a land most did not believe in and declared the Baggins blood to be 'poisoned by that Wizard'. Sammy had bonded so thoroughly with the Gamgees and the other Hobbits, that it wasn't something that was immediately obvious to him.

He had never intended to live with the Gamgees, he had even commented about looking into some property. He definitely did not want to be a burden to anyone.

Sam cancelled those plans right away insisting, "There was always a Baggins in Bag End…well, until your Pop left. But it's the way it should be! After all, it belonged to your Father. This is your home and always will be, as long as you want to stay."

He was loved and belonged to them now as all of Sam's children took to him, especially the little ones who had become enthralled by Sammy's presence. Sam's oldest child, Elanor and her husband Fastred even made a special trip, to come out and meet him. Sammy was enthralled by her beauty and noted a special quality about her that was stronger than that of her siblings. Her hair was fairer and her green eyes held a deepness that reminded him of the Firstborn, though he knew she was Hobbit through and through. Yet she held a beauty about her, in fact all of the Hobbits from her age and younger, held a quality that kept them apart from all of the older Hobbits. It was almost as though they held a bit of elvish blood within them. But Elanor's was strongest of all and he watched her in wonder.

She approached Sammy, as he sat alone in the garden one morning and softly said, "I have something for you, dear Sammy." She opened a large black satchel, velvety and soft. But before she pulled the item from it, she looked up into his eyes. Her eyes twinkled as they moistened and Sammy felt them pierce his heart with reverence. She then pulled forth a book, the Red Book as was given to Sam by Frodo before he sailed.

Sammy gasped. He knew immediately what it was. He tenderly took hold of the book as she extended it to him and then she passed her hand across it as though its love could be absorbed. Then with no words she left him alone.

The little Peredhil retreated alone to his room to read the words as laid down by his Uncle Bilbo, then his father and then Sam. It took hours to soak them in, but he could not stop, forgoing all chores and plans for that day. And in the process he released many tears. It was surprisingly similar to it's re-creation by his little brother, Bilbo. But its stark reality, especially the part written in his father's suffering hand as the original account, was profound for Sammy. He continued into the evening alone in his room and when he was done, his heart was heavy with reverence for the accomplishments of all that took part and he was even more thankful now that he had met everyone involved. He sat in meditation; rocking back and forth between guilt for leaving his parents to smoothing his aching emotions with the love and support that they had given him. More tears came. He ran his hand over the soft red leather, just as Elanor had done. He too drew love from its covers and it settled deep within his soul.

Slowly he left his room and slipped down the dark hallway clutching the book to his heart. He reached Elanor's room and to his surprise she opened the door before he even knocked. Golden light slipped into the hallway and her silhouette on the door made her look tall and amazingly like Galadriel.

She smiled at Sammy and said, "I know, dear one. I understand how you must be feeling."

Sammy bowed his head to hide a new tear and said in a whisper to mask his pain, "Then you understand that I can not keep this." He looked up into her eyes and earnestly continued, "It belongs in a place of high keeping, a place of reverence."

"Yes." She said in understanding agreement. "Yes, it does. I shall make a place…a place where many books can be held for all to read. But the Red Book will hold a special place among them, and all shall have the opportunity to see and read it."

Sammy smiled in relief as he handed the book to her. "Thank you," he said and then quietly he slipped back to his room for a night of dreams that held him in his parents' arms.

A shimmering light slipped brightly through the thinner designs of the sheers that hung from the bedroom window of a home in Tol Eressëa. And it fell upon the lovely eyes of its Lady. Meli stirred in her sleep, a rare deep sleep that she only experience when her dreams came to her. The star penetrated her thought as the light softened and became a dream within a dream. She was on a small glade deep in the forest of Tuckburrow. Green grasses grew thickly, carpeting the clearing and the night had fallen like a darkly curtain that hung from the old trees. And there was her Sammy, her baby, toddling towards her, arms stretched out in silent asking for her to hold him once again. She scooped him up into a loving embrace and tears cleansed his cheeks with her love. Then Frodo appeared and took the two, deep within his arms and a peaceful calm settled upon their three hearts.

Sammy watched Rose every moment she was near and adored her. But the shyness he had inherited filled him to the brim and he could not even bring himself to begin conversation with her unless it threatened civility. She noticed of course and misunderstood, thinking she was alone in her own adoration. Pride kept her from becoming too bold with him and as result their relationship was distant and almost non-existent, even as friends.

However, Sammy became fast friends with Frodo, Sam's second born. He helped him, along with many others, to complete the rose garden at Michel Delving. The time and care they put into it was intense. Frodo focused on the planting and pruning of various species of bush, while the others laid rock borders, installed fountains and walkways with elaborate designs.

Sammy built and installed a lattice fence around the garden. However, it was his first real experience with wood of this scale and it turned out to be slightly uneven, crooked and the staining of the wood was blotchy and poor. Yet it was bordered with intricate carvings of trees and birds, with the same Elven elegance he had put into his instruments. It had taken him much time and he poured his all into it. Blind as he was to its flaws -he was really proud of it.

Finally a lovely pavilion was installed on the south side of the garden, east of the museum property. It was surrounded by a lush green lawn, an area large enough to hold many for grand celebrations.

When all was done, they held a grand opening with most of the Shire turning out to feast and marvel at the lovely creation. The day couldn't have been better as the sunshine slipped lazily through the bluest sky of the season. The birds and butterflies flitted abundantly around the rosy creation and it seemed like a small paradise within the gardens. Sammy stood proudly near the fence, as little by little the Hobbits arrived. He shook the hands of those he had already met, making conversation and mingling cheerfully, yet he was still a bit too shy to speak to those he did not know.

After a while, he began wandering through the crowd, enjoying the sight of so many Hobbits, all mingling in chatter and laughter. It was his first experience at a gathering in fellowship and it put him into a jovial mood. Everyone was dressed in marvelous colors, with flowers in their hair or on their jackets and their feet, combed and smoothed. And all seemed to have a morsel of food or cup of delight in their hand. Sammy smacked his lips in anticipation of the sweet lemonade that Rose was handing out. He meandered over to the table nonchalantly, hoping she would be the one to serve him out of the four or five inside the booth. But the crowd was large so he had to stand in line for a few moments.

Then by accident he overheard some comments coming from a group in front of him. They were oblivious to his presence and earshot as they praised the carvings on the fence, calling it quality work. Sammy beamed with pride. But then a crass old Hobbit, Doderic Brandybuck piped in with rude comments about the skill put into the rest of the fence. It pierced Sammy's pride with a burning as he heard him say, "Surely they won't let it stand. It has got to come down, as horrible as it looks." Then matters became worse when he heard several other Hobbits agree and the conversation turned to the absurd arrival of the Peredhil. More harsh things were said.

Sammy slipped away in embarrassment, quickly forgetting the compliments. He was far too sensitive about it all, letting these few Hobbits and this one incident bring his entire world crashing down upon this fine day. His mood grew heavy as he slipped away, burying himself in crushing self doubt as he kept to himself near the gate of the garden, propped against a willow in shadow. He had wanted very badly to fit in with the Hobbits, intending to make this his permanent home for life. He had been happy here with all those he had met and even had enjoyed the attentions of a few girls, though Rose always held his after-thought. Still, his heart was too soft and wallowing in his history, he did not take this criticism well.

He watched the crowd for a long while feeling lonely and out of place. And to make matters worse, he noticed that a young handsome lad was hanging on Rose like a silly leech, flirting with her as they shared the booth where they were handing out the lemonade. Frodo-lad was busy answering questions and proudly guiding the dignitaries around. Sam and Rosie were busy minding the children's games with their own children commissioned to help. And now, Merry and Pippin were engaging in loud laughter and bantering with the same group of Hobbits that had spoken so rudely. Sammy felt all alone, useless and silly as he sat brooding. He was unsure of what to do and held thoughts of living in solitude, feeding the falls of Imladris with his tears.

The afternoon slipped onward as everyone mingled, feasted and toured the gardens. Rose left the lemonade stand with her flirting lad in tow, to help the other women-folk replenish the food table.

"He looks silly, helping the women," thought Sammy with disgust and he slunk deeper into his gloom.

The children continued to be pre-occupied with the lush lawn and the many toys that had been brought out. And now Mrs. Rosie, Sam and Frodo-lad had settled upon lawn chairs with glasses of cold lemonade by their sides and mounds of cookies being passed as desert. All thought of Sammy throughout the afternoon and often looked around for him. But they each assumed he was busy with the tourists or mingling somewhere, getting to know the others.

Finally, Frodo got up and stood on a make-shift dais that had been set upon the gazebo at the south end of the garden and called attention to himself with clinks on his glass. "Attention, fair Hobbits of the Shire! Attention!"

The Hobbits all dropped what they were doing and gathered on the lawn in curious murmurs. Frodo waited patiently as they all settled down and soon the murmur softened in anticipation of what he had to say.

"Welcome and well wishes to all!" he cried with a crack of enthusiasm in his voice. "Today we gather for the grand opening of these serene surroundings! A place to gather for feast…" Much applause arose with the sound of that word causing laughter as Frodo attempted to continue, his arms raised high. "…a place for music and joy!" More applause erupted.

Sammy slipped out of his cover and stood at the back of the crowd, curious.

Frodo waited a moment or two until the noise died down to silence. He lowered his arms and softened his tone, "a place one can go, when peace and solitude is desired."

The Hobbits murmured smoothly in agreement and Frodo continued, "I would also like to take this opportunity to thank all who contributed their time and efforts into creating this place."

The crowd politely applauded as he named all who had worked so hard.

Finally, at the last, Frodo said, "And last but certainly not least, I'd like to introduce to you all a very special person." He looked around for Sammy, found him and smiled at him with respect. "He built the fence you see here, and his Father is one you all know very well, a name that has been placed into our hearts forever. Please welcome Samwise Geren Baggins, son of Frodo Baggins."

He gestured towards Sammy and all eyes were suddenly on the little Peredhil as his cheeks began to flush. Applause broke out. Sammy stepped back and bowed his head. He was burning with embarrassment and felt the urge to run, but knew better. Then to his horror, Frodo reached into a box and pulled out Sammy's homemade instrument.

"Come Sammy, play us a song!" he said jovially.

Sammy refused, soaked in his discomfiture, but the Hobbits were curious and they would not take 'no' for an answer. They pushed and pulled him to the stage with coaxing until soon he was in front of them all, holding his instrument and trembling. All fell quiet. Sammy drew a shuttering breath and slowly sat down on a stool that had been quickly provided. His mind raced, it was completely blank as he searched his memory for an appropriate song. The crowd began to murmur again with impatience.

Urgency to do something burned him. He began plucking in random tinkers, jamming away with intricate nonsense. Above in a tree a blue bird began chirping in annoying mockery. He stopped, looked up into the tree, and then began again. The first two or three cords were off, as his nerves bellowed through them. Driven by his mood he fell into a sad and mournful ballad. It was another of his Father's lyrics, with Sammy's own musical genius intricately entwined into the words. It began mesmerizing the crowd.

This song was the lonely story of a single bird, one of the Black Crebain that had spied the Fellowship as they trekked south along the Misty Mountains. It told of the bird's life in the evil darkness, tarrying unwillingly and singing into the blackness of the night, as his tired wings longed for goodness and the light of day. It drew forth echoing silence from the Hobbits as Sammy's velvety voice mingled eloquently with the sound of the strings; his fingers flowed smoothly through the elaborate notes. It was music, as no Hobbit of the Shire had ever heard.

He ended the song and all stayed quiet, they were not quite sure what to make of it. Sammy's heart pounded with disappointment as his father's words echoed through his mind, "The Hobbits of the Shire would have loved that one!"

Memory poured over him of the Colter Elves in the west and their negative reactions to his music came flooding back. He felt hot with embarrassment as he looked around the crowd. Rose's face came into view and though she was smiling with misty eyes, shame filled his soul. He bowed his head and was just about to get up and walk away when an old and weathered Hobbit halfway back in the crowd clicked with appreciation and began to applaud.

He was Tom Cotton, Mrs. Rosie's brother and the war of long ago simmered inside him as the song brought memory of the pain and death that had occurred. Just as the bird did, he had longed for the light of goodness as he watched his father negotiate with the ruffians, but they would not listen. Tom felt a close relationship to the bird, the Crebain –not wanting to fight or do any evil, but being forced into the situation of having to take lives.

A few others of the elder Hobbits seemed to also begin to 'get it' and joined in, clapping their cupped hands to make the sound louder. Finally the whole crowd began a hesitant applause that grew and grew as the sentiment spread until a smile fell upon even the most bewildered faces. Frodo stood and begged Sammy for another song.

Sammy was quaking inside, his eyes were moist with emotion and he still was not sure what to make of it all. On the verge of tears, he knew the only way to shake it would be with a merry song, so with a shrug and a jiggle of cords he fell into a lively tune to feed his need for desperate self preservation. This raised the emotion among the Hobbits to jubilation and everyone began to dance!

A "Whooop" and a "Squeeee!" rang out from the crowd. Sammy's heart burst with adrenalin. He began to laugh as he played on, switching back and forth between the strings and the flute, playing with such overwhelming glee that the Hobbits continued to hoot and cackle as they danced.

Finally, stretched to its farthest point, the song dissolved into thundering applause. Frodo took Sammy into a great hug and slapped his back with appreciation as pleas for more, rang out. Confidence was reborn and the night fell upon them with a roaring party that did not end until the wee hours of the morn. It was just the thing to tame many a Hobbit heart, especially Sammy's.