Author Notes: Butterfly – love you, as always! I'll mail you soon, no fear! Paper Crane – thanks! I hoped I was doing alright! Don't worry, the conflict will be resolved! I like Bilbo too much for it not to be ^_^ shirebound – I'm glad you liked it! I thought it would be kind of sweet. Very Sam-like. As for jumping into Frodo's arms – well, not quite…. Read on! Morodiel – I'm sorry for killing you with the suspense! I would have updated yesterday, but I was gone all day! So I'm updating now, okay? Mish – about your review for chapter 5, thanks! Sam's other half – you remembered! Thank you so much! Frodo won't die of loneliness (merely suffer eg. But not for much longer, I promise you!) Anyway. This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but reviews are still much appreciated (hint, hint). It picks up immediately where the last one left off. Onward and upward!
Frodo grabbed his pack from his room, and left Bag End for the second time that day. Hamfast saw him run from the house with a look on his face that would have melted lead. He winced. Oh, dear. I don't think Mr. Bilbo handled that well.
« Master Frodo ? » he called after him.
« Leave me alone ! » Frodo yelled back without turning around. He ran back to the meadow as fast as he could – no tears this time, but a fierce, hot anger that burned in his eyes. How could he do this to me ? I disappear for a few hours, and he treats me like a criminal ! Did he think I was going to run away ? Frodo's thoughts were racing. The 'thoughtless child' remark had been particularly injurious. I thought he *trusted* me ! Thoughtless child ? I'm sixteen ! Sixteen ! I forgot, that's all, I just forgot ! It's not my fault !I'm not even in my tweens yet what on earth does he expect ? « What does he want from me ? To tell him where I go ? To bring him here ? I won't ! It's my place, he has no right to it ! » Frodo's voice rose. « Child ? I'm sixteen ! What does he expect ? For me to 'take it like a man' ? » he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. His anger surged hot and white and his eyes flamed wild. « Damn it all, I'm not a man ! I'm sixteen ! Sixteen ! I am orphaned I am grieved I am lonely I am hurt I am sixteen ! » he screamed, pounding his fist on the ground in time to his words. « He has no right to treat me this way ! Sorry. I'll just bet he's sorry. If he didn't mean what he said, then why did he say it ? » he asked himself, and the tears that came far too easily these days were once again in full force.
« I thought that he, of all people, would understand ! » Frodo cried to empty meadow. His words were met only by the sound of the wind across the grass. « Nobody understands » he whispered tearfully. I thought he did, though. I thought he was my friend I thought he liked me ! But one time - *one time* - I forget to tell him I'm leaving, and he's angry at me ! Why ? Why ? It's not my fault, I *forgot*. I just forgot, and he's angry ! I don't understand, I don't, I don't, I *don't*. I'm *sorry* I forgot, I said so. I didn't mean to make him worry, I would never do that on purpose. He took me in, he gave me a home. I like – I love him. I thought he loved me.
Suddenly, realization dawned and he hiccuped and lay still. He does. It's the only reason he worries. He wasn't angry, he was worried ! He shouted at me because he was worried ! Not because he hates me, or is angry with me ! Because he loves me and he was worried ! For a brief moment, his spirits rose until a new thought struck him. Oh, *no* ! What am I going to do ? The things I said – what if he won't take me back ? What if he doesn't want me now ? Supposing he sends me back to Buckland ? Oh, Father ! Why did I lose my temper like that ? Oh, no oh no oh no… He probably does hate me now. He'll probably send me back to Brandy Hall. I don't want to go back I want to stay here ! I shouldn't have lost my temper, I shouldn't have said those things, I shouldn't have run out like that, he was just worried for me, I shouldn't have done all these things and I can't undo them ! Oh, Father, save me – what am I going to *do* ?
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Samwise had been playing by himself by a creek that ran through the woods a little distance away. At the sound of Frodo's voice, he looked up, confused. He's already been here once, he thought. Putting down the pebbles he had been playing with, he stood up and walked quietly to the meadow. There lay Frodo, screaming out his rage in an uncontrollable fit of temper. Suddenly he stopped, and began to cry, his slim body shaking silently with his tears. Sam watched him uncertainly for a few moments, wanting more than ever to run up and tell him it would be alright, but his shyness held him back, and held him hard. He wavered there for a long moment, caught between love for this dark-haired boy and the terrible temerity that rose in him at the prospect of meeting him. I love him. I love him an' he needs me, he thought, and nodded. He raised his eyes a brief moment skywards – oh, Father, make it alright. Let him love me. Make it alright. Then, swallowing hard, he stepped out into the field.
Sam walked swiftly and silently to where Frodo lay, and then paused. Now what ? he thought. Frodo was still crying, and Sam had never dared come near when Frodo was awake. I love him an' he needs me, he thought again, and closed his eyes tightly, summoning his courage. Shyness is more debilitating than most people think, and it takes great courage to overcome it. Clenching his small fists, Samwise stood there, overcoming it. He needs me. Carefully, he knelt, and land a small hand on Frodo's shaking shoulders. Frodo was so upset he didn't notice, and the child felt almost disappointed. Oh, well. He still needs me. Gently, he rubbed his hands along Frodo's back and stroked his soft dark hair, and gradually, Frodo quieted. Now, for the first time, he realized he was not alone, and he stiffened. Sam paused in mid-movement and watched him warily, but Frodo did not look up.
It's him ! My Elf ! It's him ! he thought, surprised. Right here beside me ! Ilbereth ! I didn't think he would – I thought he was so shy ! He noticed that Sam's hands had left his back, and wondered why. Oh. He thinks I'm awake. Frodo rather wanted Sam to stay for a while, and so he breathed deeply and relaxed. After a few moments, he felt the small, gentle hands stroking him again and caressing him softly. There was no temerity in those hands, which had gentled him so many times before without his knowing it. That feels good, Frodo thought dreamily. I wouldn't mind if he just kept doing that… He forgot about Bilbo and the argument and his fears of the consequences, falling asleep once more under that soft, comforting touch.
He's better now, he's not crying, he'll be alright, thought Sam, smiling to himself. His hair is so soft, so soft… oh, he's falling asleep again… The sun rose higher, the temperature climbed, and the few birds of the meadow fell silent. Kneeling on the ground, surrounded by the long grasses, and at the side of the person he loved most in the world, Sam felt strange, and secret. It's like the world ends here, in the meadow with him. I don't mind. It seems – Elvish, almost. He seems Elvish. I love him. And with that thought firmly in mind, Sam's long lashes fluttered and his dark green eyes drifted slowly shut. The still heat of the meadow closed over them, and they slept.
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