CHAPTER 2: Throttling the Point
The green, inviting door of Bag End seemed a most welcome sight, illuminated as it was by a lamp hanging just above it. True, this was hardly the only light visible: windows, street lamps, candles at doorways were all common enough in the Shire. But this was the only light Sam saw. He rushed forward a few steps, then stopped and turned to look back at his quirky companion.
"Go on," Aunie said. "I like to look at the stars."
Sam nodded, smiled gratefully, and they both dashed off in separate directions.
Despite his eagerness, Sam forced himself to slow down and proceed cautiously through the welcoming door. He hoped Rosie would be asleep, but he knew Frodo rarely slept until the night was at its darkest. Having succeeded in entering almost without a sound, Sam crept down the long hallway. As he had suspected, Rosie was indeed fast asleep. Sam passed the door to their bedroom and went to Frodo's.
Frodo looked up at the sound of a sudden knock. "Come in," he said quietly.
Sam did so.
Frodo glanced around from his seat by a low fire. "Oh, hullo, Sam! I was wondering where you'd gone…"
"A far enough way, Mr. Frodo," Sam said awkwardly. "To think."
"Oh?" Frodo turned around in his chair and faced Sam.
Sam nodded. "Yes, and after a good bit of thinking, though not all on my part, I think there's something that ought to be said."
"I'm listening." Frodo knew Sam would occasionally have his moods of seriousness, but as often as not it would be over a wilted tomato plant or some such thing.
Sam took a deep breath. He walked directly up to Frodo and stood before him. "You know I love you," he said.
"Of course," Frodo answered dismissively. "And I you, Sam."
"No, no… I mean really, Mr. Frodo."
Something in Sam's tone struck Frodo. He looked up into his friend's eyes, curious and somehow afraid all at once. He saw tears in the hazel eyes that he knew so adored him, and was suddenly compelled to listen. "Yes, Sam…?"
"Well, it seems to me you've grown distant lately. I can tell there's something troubling you, but I don't know what. That hurts, Mr. Frodo. It hurts to not be able to help you…" Sam sunk to his knees and took Frodo's hands in his. "I miss you, somehow. I'm no good at making proper speeches or lovely poetry, but that's the truth, vague as it seems. I know each day I see you, I touch you, but you're not there. I miss you. I miss everything we once had together, everything we used to do together. It's changed… Oh, Frodo, I miss you so much…" The tears spilled down Sam's cheeks then. He lowered his head, as if trying to hide them. His hair fell in his eyes and only made him look all the sadder. The sight tore at Frodo's heart.
"Oh Sam… dearest Sam…" Frodo freed one of his hands from Sam's desperate grip. He brushed his fingers across Sam's cheeks, wiping away tears that were quickly replaced. "Please, you mustn't be too upset over me. I've changed, Sam. So have you. We can't undo that. But I still love you, Sam, even if I'm not always there. You're right, I am troubled, but I cannot tell you why. Look at me Sam."
Sam reluctantly raised his eyes to Frodo's.
"I trust you more than anybody. Do you understand that?"
Sam nodded dumbly and without conviction.
"Sam." Frodo looked deeply into his eyes. "I do love you, but I cannot tell you. You have to trust me this once to keep my sorrow to myself. Please, as you love me, leave me be. It won't be for much longer."
"How can you ask me to do that?" Sam demanded, his voice husky with emotion. "After all we've been through, how can you ask me to simply leave you?"
"I cannot tell you my reasons. Not yet." Frodo brought his arm around the back of Sam's neck, drawing him closer. "You have to trust me, Samwise."
Sam wiped the tears from his eyes. "If you say so…"
"Good." Frodo smiled at him. "Now, go on and go to sleep, Sam. You've been out walking all day, you'll need rest."
Sam nodded, stood, and turned to leave. He went out of Frodo's room, but rather than going to join Rosie and sleep as Frodo had suggested, he crept back out of the front door and into the chilled night. Aunie spotted him as he trudged down the path. She hurried to join him.
"What happened? What did he say?" she asked excitedly. Sam said nothing, but walked more hastily. Aunie scuttled after him, keeping pace easily. "What??" she demanded. "Did he tell you what's wrong? You were in there an awful short time. I haven't even got half way through naming all the stars tonight. You know, my uncle Bertram used to…"
"Will-you-be-quiet!!" Sam stopped abruptly and whirled around to glare at Aunie. "I have had enough of your chattering! He said the same-houndin'-thing he says every time I ask him! There, are you happy?? Throttling or no, he won't get it. That's IT. It's FINISHED. Will you leave me be now??" Without waiting for an answer, Sam turned to resume his quick walk. Aunie watched him until she was certain of his destination. She already suspected his intention. She had seen tears glistening in the hero's eyes, and red burning in his cheeks that was anger and shame, but the red of salt tears as well. She knew.
A moment later, the Shire was silent again, except for the creaking of a round green door.
…….
What happened to the understanding you and I once shared?
So don't you need me any more? And don't I need you, too?
What happened to the simple life we longed for, loved, and knew
When long ago our worlds collided and somehow stayed paired?
I walked the paths of innocence, and you were always there
To lend your smile, your warmth, your path through a divided dream.
What happened to that strange direction no compass can gleam
From copper arrows, and no map gives records anywhere?
I miss those times I shared with you, my confidante and mate.
I miss our useless secrets, whispered love and snarled hate.
You taught me so much I had missed, so much I had to learn.
My dearest friend, I passed my test, and now it is your turn.
I tell you what my heart still knows, and still you drift away.
I don't know how to hold your hand, keep you my best of friends.
I only hope this poem tells you better than my voice can say:
I'm scared of what might happen if our friendship ever ends.
…….
The green, inviting door of Bag End seemed a most welcome sight, illuminated as it was by a lamp hanging just above it. True, this was hardly the only light visible: windows, street lamps, candles at doorways were all common enough in the Shire. But this was the only light Sam saw. He rushed forward a few steps, then stopped and turned to look back at his quirky companion.
"Go on," Aunie said. "I like to look at the stars."
Sam nodded, smiled gratefully, and they both dashed off in separate directions.
Despite his eagerness, Sam forced himself to slow down and proceed cautiously through the welcoming door. He hoped Rosie would be asleep, but he knew Frodo rarely slept until the night was at its darkest. Having succeeded in entering almost without a sound, Sam crept down the long hallway. As he had suspected, Rosie was indeed fast asleep. Sam passed the door to their bedroom and went to Frodo's.
Frodo looked up at the sound of a sudden knock. "Come in," he said quietly.
Sam did so.
Frodo glanced around from his seat by a low fire. "Oh, hullo, Sam! I was wondering where you'd gone…"
"A far enough way, Mr. Frodo," Sam said awkwardly. "To think."
"Oh?" Frodo turned around in his chair and faced Sam.
Sam nodded. "Yes, and after a good bit of thinking, though not all on my part, I think there's something that ought to be said."
"I'm listening." Frodo knew Sam would occasionally have his moods of seriousness, but as often as not it would be over a wilted tomato plant or some such thing.
Sam took a deep breath. He walked directly up to Frodo and stood before him. "You know I love you," he said.
"Of course," Frodo answered dismissively. "And I you, Sam."
"No, no… I mean really, Mr. Frodo."
Something in Sam's tone struck Frodo. He looked up into his friend's eyes, curious and somehow afraid all at once. He saw tears in the hazel eyes that he knew so adored him, and was suddenly compelled to listen. "Yes, Sam…?"
"Well, it seems to me you've grown distant lately. I can tell there's something troubling you, but I don't know what. That hurts, Mr. Frodo. It hurts to not be able to help you…" Sam sunk to his knees and took Frodo's hands in his. "I miss you, somehow. I'm no good at making proper speeches or lovely poetry, but that's the truth, vague as it seems. I know each day I see you, I touch you, but you're not there. I miss you. I miss everything we once had together, everything we used to do together. It's changed… Oh, Frodo, I miss you so much…" The tears spilled down Sam's cheeks then. He lowered his head, as if trying to hide them. His hair fell in his eyes and only made him look all the sadder. The sight tore at Frodo's heart.
"Oh Sam… dearest Sam…" Frodo freed one of his hands from Sam's desperate grip. He brushed his fingers across Sam's cheeks, wiping away tears that were quickly replaced. "Please, you mustn't be too upset over me. I've changed, Sam. So have you. We can't undo that. But I still love you, Sam, even if I'm not always there. You're right, I am troubled, but I cannot tell you why. Look at me Sam."
Sam reluctantly raised his eyes to Frodo's.
"I trust you more than anybody. Do you understand that?"
Sam nodded dumbly and without conviction.
"Sam." Frodo looked deeply into his eyes. "I do love you, but I cannot tell you. You have to trust me this once to keep my sorrow to myself. Please, as you love me, leave me be. It won't be for much longer."
"How can you ask me to do that?" Sam demanded, his voice husky with emotion. "After all we've been through, how can you ask me to simply leave you?"
"I cannot tell you my reasons. Not yet." Frodo brought his arm around the back of Sam's neck, drawing him closer. "You have to trust me, Samwise."
Sam wiped the tears from his eyes. "If you say so…"
"Good." Frodo smiled at him. "Now, go on and go to sleep, Sam. You've been out walking all day, you'll need rest."
Sam nodded, stood, and turned to leave. He went out of Frodo's room, but rather than going to join Rosie and sleep as Frodo had suggested, he crept back out of the front door and into the chilled night. Aunie spotted him as he trudged down the path. She hurried to join him.
"What happened? What did he say?" she asked excitedly. Sam said nothing, but walked more hastily. Aunie scuttled after him, keeping pace easily. "What??" she demanded. "Did he tell you what's wrong? You were in there an awful short time. I haven't even got half way through naming all the stars tonight. You know, my uncle Bertram used to…"
"Will-you-be-quiet!!" Sam stopped abruptly and whirled around to glare at Aunie. "I have had enough of your chattering! He said the same-houndin'-thing he says every time I ask him! There, are you happy?? Throttling or no, he won't get it. That's IT. It's FINISHED. Will you leave me be now??" Without waiting for an answer, Sam turned to resume his quick walk. Aunie watched him until she was certain of his destination. She already suspected his intention. She had seen tears glistening in the hero's eyes, and red burning in his cheeks that was anger and shame, but the red of salt tears as well. She knew.
A moment later, the Shire was silent again, except for the creaking of a round green door.
…….
What happened to the understanding you and I once shared?
So don't you need me any more? And don't I need you, too?
What happened to the simple life we longed for, loved, and knew
When long ago our worlds collided and somehow stayed paired?
I walked the paths of innocence, and you were always there
To lend your smile, your warmth, your path through a divided dream.
What happened to that strange direction no compass can gleam
From copper arrows, and no map gives records anywhere?
I miss those times I shared with you, my confidante and mate.
I miss our useless secrets, whispered love and snarled hate.
You taught me so much I had missed, so much I had to learn.
My dearest friend, I passed my test, and now it is your turn.
I tell you what my heart still knows, and still you drift away.
I don't know how to hold your hand, keep you my best of friends.
I only hope this poem tells you better than my voice can say:
I'm scared of what might happen if our friendship ever ends.
…….
