Special thanks for those that reviewed me; you know who you are. I'm really grateful for all the nice things you said and I hope this meets your expectations.

It occurred to me that I didn't add a disclaimer last chapter, but I think if you need me to tell you that I don't own the characters or the setting or practically anything in this story, then you don't know who does, and so why are you reading this?

Anyway, onto the next chapter, which sees things from Frodo's point of view

I'm always alone. I feel it in the bottom of my heart. Since that perilous journey, the possession of the Ring has driven me to feel an indescribable longing for that which I cannot have. Such things I have endured I cannot share with anyone, not even you, my own. That's why I feel so alone.

Only, for as long as I can remember you have always been there for me, to help me, guide me, look out for me and to fight for me. I cannot remember a time where there was not you. And if I can remember a time, then I had Bilbo, and you were not far away. For all those years we were on that quest you were with me to the bitter end and you endured much more than I ever wished you would not.

You came face to face with death, and not with Gandalf. For a brief period of time, I was, to all witnesses, dead. And I only know that if I had been in your position, and to see you dead in front of me, I most surely could not have gone on. The ring would have me there and then, if you were not with me. I cannot bear the thought of you gone, for you are the sunlight in my garden. If you were not there, then I would have withered and died.

Now that we are home, and that treacherous band is destroyed, life has resumed its natural course. Yet now I feel lonelier than ever before.

You come and see me as often as you can, in between other jobs, restoring the shire back to its natural beauty and such, yet more often than not you come in to perform your duties. I miss your company more than anything in the world, and without it I feel like I am fading into a shadow, into a wraith.

When night comes though, when blissful sleep comes we are on the road again. Though thankfully this time we are not seeking to destroy anything, nor are we on a quest. We travel across middle-earth, exploring those parts that Bilbo did not get to reach, and there is lightness in my heart, which has not been there for some time.

I miss our conversations Sam, I miss being able to sit with you, in silence mostly and enjoy each other's company, and I miss everything about you, now that we are home. Sometimes I stand for hours at my window, watching you while you tend to the garden or to the gate or cook meals, and I wonder just how you feel about me?

While we were on the quest, you always went out of your way to make sure if I was feeling well, or eating enough and such, and it seemed to me like I was someone special, going on this brave adventure because nobody else could. And because I was important you felt like you had to protect me, and look after me. But since we've been back you've hardly spoken to me, preferring to weed the garden or oil the squeak in the gate. Am I not important any more? Do I not mean anything to you? Am I not the friend I once was?

Don't think that because I employ you in my service that you cannot be my friend. Pay no heed to how the gaffer thinks the working class should behave. You have proven yourself to be beyond working class. You have gone above and beyond the call of duty, and for that I love you. If I could have a choice between the best gardener in the shire and the best friend in middle-earth, I know which one I would choose.

I need you, to fill the emptiness in my life. To restore the joy in my heart, to rid the loneliness I feel. I need your sunlight to make my branches reach out to the skies. I need you here with me. I'm begging you Sam, come back to me. Keep me company.

Stay.