The Last of the Ringbearers
By Lótessë Elentirmien
A/n: The true last chapter of LotR, since it never seemed complete. Of course, it wasn't...there is an epilogue that didn't make the cut. A bit of Sam fluffiness, completely plotless. R/r!
As the white ship, its prow carved in a detailed representation of a swan, drew near to the mouth of the harbour of Alqualondë, the Haven of the Swans, a small figure stood at the prow. He leaned on a staff as he gazed in undisguised awe at the green coast opening like a dream before him. Samwise Gamgee was looking for the first time on Valinórë, the Undying Lands. He wished Rosie could have been standing next to him to see it too. His eyes smarted as he thought of her, tears swimming in them. That was why he had left the Shire. He closed his eyes, resisting the painful flow of memories that threatened to drown him. He saw Rose, lying on the bed that they had shared for so many years, so still and cold. So dead. So gone. Without Rose there was nothing to dull the ache of Frodo's absence which had never fully left him. But soon they would be together again.
He sat down on the gently rocking deck, slightly out of breath. This was understandable, as been able to walk without his stick until a few months ago. While this voyage had been one of the most peaceful times of his life, he was incredibly anxious now for it to be over. He was so close to Frodo that he could barely stand it. He wanted to leap into the water and swim for shore, but he restrained himself with an effort. As the ship glided further into the harbour, Sam saw a great throng of people standing on the fingerdocks waiting to greet those who were arriving. Sam saw a bewildering myriad of beautiful faces, but his eyes passed over them quickly and went to the foremost row. Six figures stood there. A tall elf with wisdom and contentment in his eyes stood with his arm about a fair, dark-haired lady. Sam's eyes widened briefly in surprise as he recognized the next person. A tall elven-lady stood there, and the light gleamed upon the halo of her long golden hair. Beside them was a radiant figure that Sam's eyes could hardly look at. In front of these four stood two shapes, no larger than children, clad in bright red and green.
The Elves docked the boat and secured the mooring lines. Sam stumbled down the gangplank as quickly as he could. He was old, and also had been long at sea, and so was somewhat unsteady on his feet. As his feet touched the brown earth of Valinor a shimmer obscured him from view. It was like to looking at someone over the blaze of a great burning.
Out of the shaking, shining air he ran a young hobbit once again, his prop cast away and the tremors gone from his now strong and lithe limbs. Sam flew, sobbing, into his master's open arms and wept into his russet-clad shoulder.
"Mr. Frodo! Oh, Master, Master, Frodo..."
"There, there, Sam lad. Hush now. There's nothing to cry about. And here I thought you would be glad to see me."
"Oh, Frodo, you know I am, I just..."
"Hush. It's all right."
Then Sam turned and saw the other figures, which had been watching he and Frodo with affectionate smiles on their faces.
"Mr. Bilbo, sir! Master Elrond! And O, Lady Galadriel, and Mr. Gandalf! Oh, stars and trumpets, but it's so good to see you all! "Sam turned back, and really saw his master for the first time. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, you look so much younger! Younger even than when we said goodbye at the Grey Havens all those years ago. And, why bless me! Now I come to think of it, sir, I feel younger too! I can run again. What's happened?"
Frodo smiled. Having Sam back at his side had healed the one wound left in his heart, and he was wholly at peace for the first time since that day in the Shire, so long ago, when Bilbo had given him the Ring. "All hurts are healed here, dear Sam. That includes aging. Death will come to us, but as a blessed escape when we are tired of this world. Oh Sam. It's so good to have you back!"
"Welcome home, Sam," said Bilbo.
"Oh yes, Frodo, and everyone, I'm back!"
