1.1 Sam's Tale

Reviews coveted and appreciated!

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

Author: Nilramiel@aol.com, aka RosieCotton

Rating: G, PG, R

Genre: General/Romance

Setting: The Shire, June, 1420

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1.2 Chapter 23: Ondo Seere

Rating: PG

Note: See chapter 17 for an explanation of the Ondo Seere

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It was the first week in June, and Sam could think of no anniversaries or remembered suffering that would account for it, but Frodo awoke on this morning sweating and in pain.

Sam had called for him as he always did, opening the curtains and bidding him a Good Morning, but on this day Frodo's face was damp with perspiration, and he was unable to suppress a groan.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam worried, coming to his side, "What is it? Are you hurting?"

Frodo lifted his face to his friend, anguish etched in the blue depths of his eyes. "Yes, Sam. It's my hand – my finger – it hurts so badly. I was dreaming, Sam, about that day, and waking is worse than the dream." He clutched his right hand with his left, bending over the pain as if the wound was newly inflicted.

"Wait here, master," Sam said, touching Frodo's shoulder gently, "Don't move a muscle." He trotted to the far side of the bedroom and swiftly opened the trunk nestled against the far wall. Pulling forth the larger of the two wooden boxes, he closed the trunk and returned to Frodo's side.

Frodo was silent, but silvery tracks now glistened on both cheeks, and he remained hunched over amidst the bedclothes. Sam opened the box and lifted out the white-green stone, the Ondo Seere, sent by the Lady Arwen. It felt warm in his hand.

Sam did not know why, at least he would not have been able to explain it to anyone, but the stone had different effects on different hobbits. His Gaffer, for example, had held the stone three times, twice for a good long time, and each time he had wept, though not overmuch, and they did not seem to be tears of grief. Mr. Merry had held the stone, and he said that it brought to his mind fair memories of Rohan; that he could smell the green grass and hear the sound of hoofbeats in his ears. But he did not weep when he held it. Pippin, on the other hand, had wept, though he did not wish to share his thoughts, and asked Frodo for permission to hold it again from time to time, to which Frodo of course agreed willingly. Sam figured that holding the stone helped Master Pippin with some of the dark memories from Minas Tirith – of Denethor and Faramir – and the two palantir. Pippin, like Sam, was an optimistic and cheerful hobbit by nature, but he had suffered much during the War, and he was very young. As for Sam, he had held the stone, a few days after Frodo had received it, and several times since. A thing of wonder it was, although Sam felt very little when he held it – just a sense of warmth and comfort. "Of course," thought Sam, "I was not in pain at the time, and p'rhaps that makes a difference." How the stone was able to reach each person in the way they needed, Sam did not know.

What he did know was that the stone's effect on Frodo was most powerful, and did him great good. And that was far more important to Samwise Gamgee than the mysteries of elvish magic.

Now he spoke softly, "Frodo? Here, Mr. Frodo, I've brought the Ondo Seere. Take it, master, please."

Frodo looked up painfully, and opened his hands enough for Sam to nestle the stone between them. Almost immediately the change began. Color returned to his pale face, his narrow shoulders visibly relaxed, and he gave a shuddering sigh.

"Oh, Sam, thank you," he said after several minutes, smiling at the gardener. "I don't think I could have even reached the trunk this morning. Oh, that is so much better! It still hurts, but I can bear it now."

Sam smiled at him, then urged Frodo to lie back down, smoothing the damp curls away from his forehead. "Now you just lie quiet, Frodo, and I'll fetch some tea from Rosie."

Frodo nodded and closed his eyes, both hands wrapped around the precious object. Sam went back to the kitchen and gathered a hot mug of tea, and also a plate of breakfast, in case Frodo wanted to eat. He told Rosie briefly that Frodo was ill, and asked her to walk over and tell the Gaffer, who could send work to Mayor Whitfoot that Frodo might not come to town today.

Sam returned to Frodo's side, relieved to see that he looked much better. His features were relaxed somewhat, and his eyes were closed. The stone rested upon his breast and both hands were closed about it.

Then suddenly Sam caught his breath, startled by the resemblance Frodo bore to himself at Cirith Ungol, poison stung, lying as if he was dead beneath the cliff. A flood of memories rushed back into Sam's heart, and tears sprang to the corners of his eyes.

Frodo, hearing Sam's sharp intake of breath, opened his eyes.

"Sam?" He looked into his friend's face. "Oh, Sam, I have caused you pain, haven't I? I'm so sorry." He lifted one hand from the stone and reached out to the gardener.

Sam shook his head, inwardly cursing his involuntary tears. "Nay, Mr. Frodo, you haven't caused me no pain. Just memories is all it is. Memories as I can't help thinking of, from time to time." He took Frodo's outstretched hand and placed it back on the white stone, covering it with his own.

"Memories," Frodo sighed, "Yes. Will we ever be healed of them, I wonder?" His eyes fell back closed, but not before another tear escaped one and ran slowly down the side of his face to the pillow.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, and was still for a long time, his brown hands covering Frodo's white ones, upon the Ondo Seere. And he also felt comfort from the elvish stone, even through the hands of his master. It crept up his arms and stole toward his heart, and the old fears were lifted from his mind. Eventually Sam bent over, laying his forehead atop their joined hands. The tea and the food cooled, forgotten, on the side table. For a long time Sam remained thus, until Frodo's even breathing assured him that he slept. Only then did he rise, drawing the curtains quietly closed again and tiptoeing from the room.

~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.