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 21: Morning

Rating: G

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"Mr. Frodo? Wake up, Mr. Frodo. You're breakfast is ready!"

Frodo flinched. His mind wandered back. For a moment he felt cold stone beneath his body, smelt the acrid fumes of Gorgoroth in his nostrils.

"Master? Wake up now."

Frodo shifted. He felt the pillows, the sheets against his skin. The dark memory faded from his mind.

"Sam." Frodo opened his eyes, and seeing the gardener opening the shutters, smiled and sat up.

It had been three weeks since Sam & Rosie's wedding, two since Frodo had returned to Bag End, and Sam had woken him in this way every morning.

Of course it wasn't necessary, but Frodo loved Sam for it. That gentle voice had kept the tatters of his sanity from scattering into the bitter winds of Mordor, and still it had the power to hold him together, on the mornings when waking was fear.

"Good morning!" Sam said brightly.

"Good morning, Sam. You're in a cheerful mood this morning."

"Aye," said Sam, "and you will be too once you get a whiff of Rosie's fine breakfast." He looked at Frodo, searching his face as he did every morning for traces of nightmares. "How do you feel this morning?"

"I feel fine, Sam," Frodo assured him, although his missing finger ached a bit. It ached most mornings, though the stump was well healed. Frodo saw no reason to mention it to his friend, as nothing could be done for it.

Rosie's breakfast was wonderful, as promised. Frodo was a capable cook, and Sam an excellent one, but Rosie put them both to shame. Her mother had taught her well. This particular morning, Rosie had made flat cakes, one of her specialties, along with eggs, sausages, and fresh plum cobbler, a favorite of Frodo's.

"Rosie, you spoil us!" Frodo exclaimed, tucking away a second helping of cobbler.

"Aye, and ye need it, too," said Rosie, draping her arms over Sam's shoulders and patting his round belly. "Both of ye need fattening up, and especially you, Mr. Frodo, sir, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I know," sighed Frodo, "But it's not for lack of eating, I assure you. Bilbo worked at fattening me up, and he didn't have much luck."

"Well, no offence to Mr. Bilbo, but I'm going to have a go at it meself," Rosie grinned, kissing Sam on his curly head and turning to get the kettle from the fire.

"Sam," Frodo said, "I am going down to the mayor's offices again today. I am beginning to believe that Will Whitfoot enjoys my doing his job."

Sam laughed. "He does seem quite recovered," he agreed. "One wonders why he hasn't taken it back yet. Not that you aren't doing a fine job with it, Mr. Frodo."

"I am doing very little," Frodo assured him with a smile, "Lots of little bits of things mostly. Though I will glad to hand it back over soon. I really want to work on Bilbo's book, and pore through the volume Aragorn sent to me. It seems like I haven't had much time to really sit down and read, and think, since we got home."

"Aye, the days do seem to fill themselves up," Sam agreed.

"You should think about running for mayor, Sam," Frodo said with sudden inspiration. "You've got a level head about you."

"Aw, I don' know about that, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "Seems a bit high fer someone of my station, if you follow me."

"Nonsense," put in Rosie, sitting down next to Sam and kissing his shoulder affectionately. "You'd be a fine mayor."

Frodo nodded in agreement.

Sam smiled at them both, shaking his head dismissively. Him a mayor! Mr. Merry would make a good mayor, perhaps, or even Mr. Pippin, but Sam couldn't see himself in such a role. He bent back to his breakfast, and turned his mind to what needed doing in the gardens that day.

But Frodo knew how changed Sam was, and how capable, even if Sam did not. He looked across the table at Rosie, found her looking at him, and winked.

Rosie smiled back at him, nodding slightly, before rising from the table to clear away a few dishes.

Tears pricked at the corners of Rosie's eyes as she poured warm water into a basin for the washing up. Frodo knew her Sam, knew just as she did that he was so much more than a simple gardener, and Rosie loved Frodo for it. Not that Sam lacked confidence, or feared failure. He was as sure of himself and as optimistic as a hobbit could be, but he was loath to put himself forward. His Gaffer had raised him well. "Too well, in some ways," thought Rosie, though she would change very little about him, even had she the power.

~TBC~

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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.