"Samwise! Keep up, will you?" Gandalf's voice smacked like a whip through
the haze in Sam's brain. The heat was intolerable, and with his heavy pack
weighting him down, it was torment just to breathe. Again, Sam found himself
wondering why he had even agreed to come on the trip.
Ahead of him, Frodo stumbled and fell with a tiny cry. Sam, forgetting
his own discomfort, rushed to his master's side, cradling the small, curly
head in his work-roughened hands. "Are you alright, Mr. Frodo?" he whispered
softly.
Frodo smiled up at him. "Of course I am, Sam. Just tripped up a bit.
Good thing you were right behind me or I would have fallen right down the
mountain!"
Frodo heaved himself to his feet and readjusted his pack. A few small, but heavy items had fallen out when Frodo had stumbled, and Sam picked them up and slipped them into his own pack. He was, as always, carrying the heaviest load of the Nine, even though Bill the pony could have carried at least twice as much as he was with ease. Pippin had often offered to lighten the load, but Sam had a sneaking suspicion that Pippin's help in "lightening the load" would be to weight down his stomach with the food that was in Sam's pack. So the little gardener struggled on, keeping a watch out for wargs, goblins, orcs, or hungry hobbits.
****************************
Night was falling across the land, sweeping its arms out in wide circles
that enveloped all within its reach. As they reached the end of the foothills,
the Nine could see a dark forest, deep and cool, stretching out before
them, and it was with relief that Gandalf led them within its borders.
As the sun slowly set, he led them into a small grove and told them to
bed down for the night.
"We shall be safe here, I believe," he said, lifting off his pointed
hat. "This forest is protected in many ways." The Nine were too tired to
ask any questions, and immediately set about making camp.
Sam dropped his pack on the ground with a heavy sigh, feeling aches
in places he had never knew he had. His shrewd, brown-eyed gaze roved over
the Nine, taking them all in with more honesty than he gave himself credit
for. Pippin and Merry were arguing good-naturedly over blankets, Gandalf
was filling his pipe with Old Toby, Aragorn and Boromir were sharpening
their weapons (Good idea, Sam thought, but I'm hoping that we shan't be
needing them swords anytime soon.), Gimli and Legolas were inscrutable
as usual, and Frodo looked even more pale and tired than ever.
*The Ring drains him so,* thought Sam sadly. *It takes and takes, and
gives nothing back. He gets paler every day.* Frodo caught his friend's
eye, and grinned.
"I didn't know you were already on watch, Sam! The Sun hasn't set yet."
Sam smiled back halfheartedly. "Aye, just getting my bearings,
Mr. Frodo." He walked over to Frodo slowly, dragging his pack along behind
him. He dropped heavily down next to Frodo and sighed. "Oh, but it feels
good to take a load off, don't it now, Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo nodded. "My feet just feel so heavy sometimes..." His voice trailed
off as he looked around him. "These trees...I've never seen anything like
them." He picked up a leaf and toyed idly with it. "They seem as if they've
got rainbows trapped inside them, don't they, Sam?" He extended the leaf
with a hand weakened by the burden of the Ring, and Sam quelled his sadness
as he saw how that hand trembled.
"Aye, they are nice." He twirled the stem slowly, watching the facets
of the jewel-like leaf catching and refracting the rays of the setting
sun. A sudden flash of silver caught him in the eyes, and a memory flashed
up, of silver eyes and hair, of a voice that echoed down the years. A tear
welled up unexpectedly in his eye, and he brushed it away swiftly. He wasn't
quick enough, and Frodo saw the small action.
"Sam, this isn't right..." Frodo shook his head. "I never should have
let Gandalf bring you along. Or Merry or Pippin, they just don't understand.
I don't even understand..." Frodo breathed in harshly. "I just can't go
on anymore, Sam! I'm so tired!" Tears spilled out from under Frodo's lids,
rolling down his face, and the pain in his features nearly broke Sam's
loyal little heart.
"Mr. Frodo!" He laid a hand on Frodo's shoulder and turned Frodo to
face him fully. "It was me as chose to come in the end, not Gandalf. I
wanted to come, and help you, Mr. Frodo. I made a promise not to lose you,
and I shan't! Never!" Sam stared hard into Frodo's eyes. "You're my master,
but you're my friend, the truest friend I've got, and I'm finished if I'll
let you down now!"
Frodo's tears were still flowing, but Sam's simple, passionate speech
had brought a new light to Frodo's eyes. A long-forgotten strength had
come back to his body, and he no longer seemed so pale, or so transparent.
A smile lit Frodo's face, and he gripped Sam's hand tightly.
"You are too loyal for me, Sam, and too true. You may be a gardener,
but you have the heart of a lion. Sometimes, it seems like the burden upon
me could never be borne, but now, somehow, if you are with me, I feel I
may succeed in this quest yet."
"I will never leave your side, Mr. Frodo. And that's a promise. Anyone
tries to hurt you, they'll catch it hot from Sam Gamgee!"
Frodo laughed, a true, joyful sound. "Sam, you amaze me. If all
gardeners were as brave as you, there'd be no fear of Mordor in Middle-earth!"
Sam blushed, and hung his head, too pleased for words.
"Sam! There you are! We have been wondering where you and your pack
of plenty have been hiding!" Pippin and Merry grinned cheerfully into their
faces. "It's time to eat! Our stomachs are growling louder than thunder!"
With a final squeeze, Frodo released Sam's hand, then got up and began
to help Sam set up for dinner.
*****************************
Sam had been chosen for the second watch that evening, and it was with
difficulty that Legolas roused him for his turn. The watch was with Gandalf
and they sat in companionable silence for a long time, Gandalf smoking
and Sam idly playing with small objects he found in his pockets. Exhausting
his supply of small feathers, pretty eggshells, and string, his fingers,
questing deeper, came into contact with a small, hard object. As always,
a jolt fired up into his fingers and ran up his arm and pooled somewhere
near his heart. The temptation to take it out and look at it was overwhelming.
*It's dark,* he thought. *Gandalf's thinking whatever it is that wizards
think, and everyone else is asleep. No harm in a quick peek.* He grasped
the chain, and lifted it out of his pocket.
It was a tiny sphere, carved all over with runes of an unknown
tongue. It shimmered silver in the faint moonlight, and a strange comfort
came to him. He rolled it over and over in his rough palm, musing quietly
over the beauty of the small trinket. A voice, soft and far-away, sounded
in his mind. He was lost in remembrance before he knew it.
"I have nothing to offer you, but this small thing...."
"What's that you're playing with, Sam?" Pippin's voice broke into his
reverie. Before he had known it, his watch was over, and he could go back
to sleep.
"Nothing, just a bit of string," he said, slipping the item back into
his pocket. "I'm back to sleep."
He laid down beside Frodo, his head heavy on his pack. Without him
even noticing it, his hand slipped inside his pocket once more and gripped
the sphere. He was asleep almost instantly.
*************************
The next morning was cool and clear, with the new Sun reflecting beautifully through the leaves. In this forest, time seemed to flow more smoothly, and a leisurely breakfast seemed appropriate, even to Gandalf. Now, however, Merry and Pippin remembered their inquisitive natures and began pelting him with questions.
"So, Gandalf," asked Pippin breezily through a mouthful of bread.
"Why did you say this forest is so well-guarded?"
Gandalf smiled indulgently. "A good question, Peregrin. This forest
we are in is known as the Ré-Nancet. In the Common Tongue, that
means --"
"Where Faeries Walk," Legolas finished for him. The elf's fair brows
drew together. "You have brought us into the land of the Fey, Gandalf!"
Gimli growled low under his breath. "Wizard, this is folly!" The dwarf's
sturdy little body tensed as if for battle. "We must leave this place!"
Gandalf shook his head. "It is a long time, before Mordor fell into
ruin, since the fey have walked openly in Middle-Earth. There have been
rumors, of course, but the fey are secretive and would hardly let themselves
be seen by the likes of us. We have nothing to fear."
Sam whistled through his teeth. "Faeries!" he murmured. "What else!"
He stopped short, for he found that his hand had once again wandered to
his pocket.
Frodo looked up with interest sparkling in his eyes. "They say that a faery was wandering through the Shire a few years back," he said softly. All eyes turned to him, and he blushed a little, then continued. "Actually, there were two, a man and a woman. Bilbo saw them. He didn't remember much of the man, but he said the woman was young, and beautiful, and silver, all silver, like moonlight." Frodo shook his head. "I would have loved to see them."
Sam felt his blood freeze from the feet up. *Silver!* he thought dully. *She was silver!* "Were...were they on horses?" he managed to ask slowly.
Frodo shook his head. "Bilbo said they were small, like hobbits, and these were on ponies. She was riding a pretty little dappled grey thing, and gay and prancing." He sighed. "What a sight! Faeries in the Shire!"
Sam breathed out slowly. " 'Tweren't prancing when I saw it ," he whispered, and immediately regretted it.
Gandalf's head whipped around like Sam had yanked on his beard. "What did you say, Samwise?" His voice, not raised and only curious, was large and terrible in the quiet of the forest.
"I...I said..." Sam's voice quivered. "Nevermind! I said nothing!"
"Samwise Gamgee! Tell me what you saw!" Gandalf was staring at him fully. "What happened?"
Sam turned pale and silent; then, without warning, the words poured forth.
"It was about five years back, like Mr. Frodo said, that's the truth. I was out in the woods, looking for mushrooms. You know how I love mushrooms, and my dad, he just--"
A sharp look from Gandalf ended his dithering, and with a sigh Sam went on.
"Well, you see, I was in the woods, and it was such a quiet day that I could hear some crying off deep in the trees. I followed it, thinking if it were a baby animal I'd see if there was anything I could do for it. But I found---her.
"She was trying to get at her pony's hoof, but the creature was spooked and there was no calming it. It had slipped a shoe, and the only way it could have just ripped it clean off like that was if it had been running away from summat.
"She had her hood up, and I couldn't see her face right away, but her pony kicked her, and she fell back. Her hood fell off, and I saw her. She was all silver...she was beautiful, but not in a way I had thought of before. I guess I made a little noise, and when she saw me she nearly took off. She pulled out a little knife, but she was so weak I don't think she could have held me off for long if I had a mind to hurt her."
"You are lucky you did not make closer acquaintance with a fey dagger," said Gandalf. "For they are often enchanted, and you could have been the victim of quite a nasty spell."
Sam blanched at the thought. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself before going on. "Well, as it was, she calmed down when I told her I wanted to help. Poor thing was nearly collapsing from fear, and a friendly face was dear as anything to her. She was scared, I could tell, almost jumping out of her skin at every little sound. The little pony had calmed down a piece by that time, so I took her and the pony back to Bagshot Row, where I could fix the shoe. It was easy enough work, didn't take me more than a half-hour, but she was all too grateful for that little bit of work. She thanked me over and over till I thought my ears would fall off, and then she asked if there was anything she could do in return for my help."
Here, Sam blushed a vivid scarlet. His voice trailed off and the others watched as his hand strayed to his pocket. Gandalf's eyebrows drew together, but before he could say anything Pippin's light voice broke in.
"Don't stop now, Sam! You've only come to the best part!"
Sam blushed even more red, and cleared his throat needlessly several times. "Well, I, uh, er, I..." he shook his head. "I don't know what came over me, but I said to her that I didn't want no payment for helping a stranger out, but I asked her...I asked her not to forget me. Me! A little gardener from the Shire, asking a faery to remember him! As soon as I had said it, I thought, Samwise Gamgee, the Gaffer was right! You are a blockhead! But, the girl just smiled, and she was so pretty in the sun there that I just forgot myself, see. And she said to me, 'It happens I shan't forget you, Samwise, as long as you don't forget me.' And then, she pulls a little trinket out of her belt-pouch, and looks at me, and whispers a few words over it. She handed it to me, and she said, 'If ever you are in need, as I was, bring this out, hold it in your hand, and call my name. If I am in reach, I will be at your side in a breath.'
"She started to mount her pony, when I remembered that she hadn't given me a name. 'Lady!' I said 'But you haven't told me your name!' She turned back with a little laugh, and looked me right in the eye, and she said 'Forgive me. My name, Samwise Gamgee, is Anemosi Lé-Radika. Thank you again, and may your gardens always bloom.' She paused, like a little silver bird, and then she kissed me, on the cheek." Sam touched his cheek softly, red coloring his face again.
"She got up on her pony and rode away. But at the very last, she
turned back and waved. And then she was gone."
There was silence in the little group for a heartbeat after Sam was
done talking. Then a cacophony of voices broke out, all of them piling
question after question upon Sam in an avalanche of noise. He shook his
head, trying to hush them all, and when the voices calmed down, the first
voice he heard was Frodo's.
"Sam", said Frodo. "Why didn't you tell anyone of this before? It's--it's
like something in a song!"
Sam sighed softly. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, how could I? She was there
and gone, and you wouldn't have believed me."
"You have to admit, Sam, that it is all very shady, this story, without that little trinket for proof!" Merry looked at Pippin for agreement, who nodded vigorously.
"But I do have it!" Sam exploded. "Here it is!" Without thinking,
he reached into his pocket and pulled it forth.
Gandalf made a muttered exclamation. "So it is true!" He reached
out his hand and gently lifted the trinket from Sam's palm. "It has been
many years since I have seen one of these, and longer still since I have
seen one intact."
"What is it?" asked Boromir, leaning in to see it more closely. Sam felt a tiny tentacle of fear latch itself around his heart, and he had to stop himself from tearing it away from Gandalf.
"It is called a taena," said Gandalf. "Most precious of the faery gifts, each of the fey has one. It is most often used as a gift, for someone who has done one of the fey a great service. This taena," he paused and shook his head in wonder before going on, "bears the marks of the house of the Radiké, the most ancient and powerful of the faery houses." He handed it back to Sam.
"Samwise, your good deed garnered a greater reward than you can possibly imagine. It will keep you safe, and the fey that gave it to you is now bonded to your welfare until you give the taena back to her. Keep it secret, keep it safe, and keep it near your heart." Gandalf stood. "We have tarried too long here. We must move on."