1.1 Sam's Tale

Reviews coveted and appreciated!

"I asks, yes, I asks. And it that isn't nice enough, I begs!"

Author: Nilramiel@aol.com, aka RosieCotton

Rating: G, PG, R

Genre: General/Romance

Setting: The Shire, year 1420

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1.2 Chapter 20: Wedded

Rating: R

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FINAL WARNING: This chapter is rated R. If you are offended by descriptions of sexual interaction, DO NOT READ IT.

To all who do read it ( ;-D ) this is new territory for me. I truly hope that my characterization remains intact and that I honor the spirit of both Tolkien and Master Samwise in this chapter.

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Sam lifted his hand and traced his fingers over the edge of the tapestry. It was so beautiful, and stirred up such feelings…

They had hung it in the little parlor, on the opposite wall from the fireplace, so that no smoke would come near it. It was large, and Sam knew it must have taken Arwen and her maidens many hours to make. He was moved every time he looked at it. Sam touched the image of himself, woven near the center, of fine thread so lifelike that his face and hair were wrought of several subtly different colors. He sighed audibly.

"Sam?"

Sam turned towards Rosie's voice.

She stood framed in the doorway of the bedroom ("our bedroom" corrected Sam with an inner smile), framed in firelight and candlelight. She was still in her wedding dress, and the light danced over it like the colour of a sunset upon new snow. A couple of stray flowers still clung to her hair, which she had unpinned to let fall in loose curls about her shoulders.

Sam went to her and took her into his arms. He pulled her against himself and kissed her above the ear.

"Oh, Rose, I love you," he said, almost in a whisper.

In answer, Rosie turned her face and captured his mouth in a deep kiss. She put her arms around his middle and pressed his body close. After several moments, she lifted her mouth from his. "Did you light the candle, Sam?" she asked.

Sam nodded, "Aye," he replied, a little breathlessly. He had explained about Gandalf's candle when they were walking up towards Bag End, and Rosie had laughed. In truth, Rosie felt no need for such a talisman, but she appreciated that Sam might, just to keep his mind clear, and she was grateful to the old wizard.

Rosie smiled at her husband, stroking his face with her smooth hand. "Good," she said. Never removing her eyes from his, she lifted his hand and placed it upon the center of her breast.

Sam could feel Rosie's heart thumping against his palm through the silky cloth. Her breathing was rapid, and her eyes were like deep green pools filled with the reflection of stars. Sam kissed her brow, then the corners of her eyes, then her cheeks, then her lips; and as he kissed her, he brought his other hand up and began to unlace the bodice of her dress. Rosie, impatient to help, tangled her fingers with his as they pulled the slender ribbons free. Sam then brought his hands up to her soft shoulders, and slowly swept the cloth down her arms to her waist.

He took a small step back and looked at her, holding both of her hands in his own. He sighed. Rosie smiled at him, then pulled her hands loose and reaching down, slipped the dress and her petticoats from her hips to the floor.

Again Sam looked at her, with the firelight flickering across her naked skin, and tears came to his eyes.

"Oh Rose," he said, "You are the loveliest thing I have ever seen. Truly you are." He traced a gentle hand along her collarbone, then down her chest, bringing it to rest again above her swiftly beating heart.

She tilted her mouth against his again, kissing him fiercely, and he placed his arms around her, holding her to himself and stroking the silky skin of her back. Slowly he ran his hands up and down, from the curve of her shoulders to the round softness of her behind. She was velvety beneath his fingers, softer to the touch than the petals of any flower he had tended in his long years of gardening. Rosie moaned softly, and Sam's own heart pounded against his ribcage with astounding force.

"Oh Sam, I've wanted this for so long," she said against his mouth.

"Aye," Sam managed, "I too. I love you Rosie, sweet Rose." Sam followed the line of her neck down with his mouth, planting soft kisses along her throat and upon her chest, and murmuring words of devotion between each one. Rosie gasped as he took one of her nipples into his mouth, gently suckling it like a sleepy newborn. When he moved to the other one, Rosie sought the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning the two that were within her reach. Sam, without stopping his tender caresses, quickly unfastened the rest, allowing his shirt to fall to the floor. Straightening up, he pressed Rosie against him again, delighting in the feel of her slightly damp, hardened nipples against his curly chest. He again kissed her, long and deeply, and another soft cry escaped her throat.

Rosie's hands moved eagerly over Sam's broad back, eventually coming down and around, to the waistband of his breeches. She looked up into his face. He was flushed, but whether it was shyness or the firelight or the heat of passion, Rosie did not know. Slowly, almost timidly, Rosie moved her hand down, resting it on the bulge pressing against his breeches. Sam gave a soft moan, involuntarily pushing his hips forward against her hand.

"Come on, Sam," Rosie said, taking his hand in hers and drawing him towards the bed. She laid back upon it, beckoning to him. For a moment he stood still, again simply looking at her, and again tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He could not believe that she was his, that she loved him, that her beauty could smite his heart more deeply than the beauty of Lothlorien.

He came to her and climbed into her arms. With whispers of love she welcomed him, wrapping her soft arms around his shoulders and caressing him.

"Oh, Rose, you are so beautiful. What have I done to deserve you?" Sam murmured against her neck.

"Shhh," said Rose softly, kissing his brow, then his eyebrows, then seeking his mouth again. Sam tried to unbutton his breeches, but could not do so with one hand, using his other to support himself. Laughing melodiously, Rosie lowered her hands to his waist and helped him out of them. As they hit the floor of the smial with a soft sound, Rosie pressed Sam onto his side next to her, looking down at him. He was fully aroused. Rosie admired him for a moment, then reached out her hand and took him tenderly into her grasp. He groaned, and Rosie looked up into his face.

"Sam, you are awfully beautiful too," she said, running her fingers lightly along his length, "and so soft." She pulled him back upon her, echoing his cries with her own as the lower parts of their bodies came into contact for the first time.

"Rose," Sam said earnestly, as she guided him to her warm opening, "I don't want to hurt ye."

"You could never hurt me, love," she sighed, "but go slowly."

So Sam did. He was as gentle a lover as Rosie knew he would be, thinking more of her than of himself. And Rosie gave herself utterly to pleasing him, finding with surprise as she did so that it magnified her own pleasure. She had never been with a lad before, and Sam had not been with a lass, though both of them had received detailed "talks" from their parents on the subject (Rosie peppering her Mum with questions and Sam blushing scarlet and watching his feet as his Gaffer spoke). Hobbits almost never couple apart from marriage, taking such things very seriously and possessing little knowledge of birth control other than abstention. It was delightful for Sam and Rosie, discovering one another, and they slept very little that night. They finally did fall asleep towards dawn, curled together like strands of a well-braided rope, and woke only when their hobbit stomachs demanded it.

Rosie woke first, and for several minutes lay propped on her elbow, gazing at Sam's sleeping face. Eventually a soft snore escaped his lips, and she bent to kiss his forehead, sweeping the curls affectionately from his face.

"Sam, love, wake up," she said sweetly, kissing his eyelids.

Sam stirred, opening his eyes and looking up at her, then drawing her back down against his shoulder and kissing her hair.

"Good morning, my love," he said in a voice filled with emotion, "or is it afternoon?"

"Afternoon, I think," Rose replied. "My stomach woke me. Are you hungry?"

Sam sat up, drawing her with him. "Aye!" he said, suddenly awake, " I am that hungry. I could eat an oliphaunt, I think."

Rose laughed and kissed him on the cheek. Scrambling over him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen, where the remains of the wedding feast had been stowed.

"Rosie," he protested as she tugged him from the bedroom, "don't you want to put somethin' on?"

Rosie grinned wickedly over her shoulder at him. "No, Samwise Gamgee, I do not!" she laughed, pulling him forward.

They ate until they could not eat another bite, finding themselves quite famished. As they were polishing off some cake, Rosie pointed to the front hall.

"Sam, go look at Gandalf's candle, will you? See if any remains of it."

Sam stood up and walked through the foyer, a little chilly, a little shy, and glad (candle or no candle) that they had closed all of the shutters the night before. Rosie watched him admiringly until he was around the corner, then jumped up from the table and followed him.

The candle was still lit, and it was hardly burnt at all. Perhaps a quarter of an inch it had dwindled out of six or seven inches. It gave off almost no scent.

"At this rate of burning, it will last a good while yet," Sam commented.

"I'm glad," Rosie said placing her arms around his waist from behind and kissing the base of his neck. "Are you still hungry, Sam?"

Sam twisted in her arms. He reached up and tenderly pushed a stray curl behind her ear. "Not fer vittles, my love," he said.

Rosie smiled and kissed him, then taking his hand in hers, led him back to their bedroom.

~TBC~

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Please do not copy or post this story to another website, or use it for your own purposes, without my permission and/or without these additional comments. Feel free to link away!

Acknowledgements: The characters, setting, and much of the dialog belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and I give full credit to him. This story focuses on the relationship of Samwise Gamgee and Rose Cotton, and it is how I imagine the events following the Hobbits' return to the Shire following the War of the Ring and King Aragorn's coronation and marriage. If you have read the book, The Return of the King, you will find the events familiar. I have tried to "fill in the gaps," regarding Sam's courtship to Rose Cotton. Sam is my favorite character in Tolkien's work, and this is written with the deepest respect for both Tolkien and the noble Samwise. There are some slight departures from the timeline of The Lord of the Rings, for which I apologize; however, creative license is a part of fanfic, right? smile.