Author's Note: This chapter is new. Please read!
Frodo's Journey-Chapter 2
Sam watched with a great sadness and loneliness as the Light that Frodo held faded away into the dark of night. The gray mists swirled lazily like curtains hiding his master from him. The poor gardener felt that if he could only figure out how to pull them back, he would catch another glimpse of the hobbit who had been his best friend for so many years. His eyes became blurred, and tears coursed down his face like the Falls of Rauros. Sam tried to hold them back, but when he found he could not, he began to sob outright. Memories coursed through his mind, as numerous as the tears trickling down his face. Memories of the kind hobbit who had hired him as a gardener before they went on the Quest, memories of Moria and Mordor, Rivendell and Lothlorien, battles fought both inside and out during their long journey, and memories of the peaceful years afterward all came flooding through the hobbit with enough force to make him sway. It would be years before Sam could laugh over those memories, cry over them, share them with the best and most trustworthy friend he had ever had.
Suddenly the hobbit felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder, steadying and comforting at the same time. Sam turned to find he was staring into Merry's saddened countenance, concern etched on his features. Pippin stood behind him, Merry's anxiety reflected in his own face. They're my friends too, Sam thought to himself. They're still here, and we can all help each other get through this. Yet in his heart, Sam knew that there were still many things he could not share with the youngsters. They just wouldn't understand; they were too young and had not experienced the same things Sam had. They had not gone into Mordor, had not watched Frodo, burdened with the Ring, head bowed and strength gone; they had not carried Frodo up the last stretch to the Cracks of Doom, only to watch him claim the Ring as his own.
The tears, which had nearly stopped before, came back even stronger. "Come on Sam. Let's go home." suggested Merry. "We all need a good rest, and you have a family to get back to." Sam said nothing, but allowed himself to be hoisted back up onto his pony. Merry and Pippin mounted their steeds, Sam managed to clear his sight enough to guide his pony back to the road, and they started home.
By the time the trio reached the crossroads at which they were forced to part, Sam had calmed himself enough to be able to go on home alone. Merry and Pippin were singing and putting on a show of being happy, though Sam knew in his heart that they were only trying to cheer him up. He mumbled a goodbye to them and turned home, reveling in the silence of his thoughts and the cloaking darkness.
Somehow he ended up at the door of Bag End, and the warm yellow candles that he could see burning in the windows were a comforting sight. Sam dismounted his pony and led it to the stables, giving it food and water for the night. Then the hobbit trudged up the walk to his home and pulled open the large round door, flooding the porch with light. Rosie greeted him with a gentle hug. Sam smiled down at his wife, but it was a forced smile, and Rosie saw this. She guided him to his favorite chair and he collapsed wearily into it.
Rosie brought him Elanor to cheer him up, and he cuddled the babe lovingly. She reached up with a tiny fist and punched him on the nose. Husband and wife laughed together, and Sam's spirits lifted. "Well," he said, his first words since he had arrived. "I'm back."