Coming of Age

'Sam, if you keep insisting on coming in here I'm never going to get this meal done,' an exasperated Frodo exclaimed as Sam once again wandered into the kitchen, causing him to lose all track of what he was supposed to be doing. Sam had been wandering into the kitchen all day and each time he caused Frodo such distraction that he got almost nothing done.

'I'm sorry Mr. Frodo, but I haven't got anything to do,' Sam apologized, looking quite abashed at being scolded by Frodo. 'I'm not used to sitting here idle while you do all the work. I just can't seem to keep my hands busy.'

'Why don't you go and visit your Gaffer? I'm sure he'll be wanting to see you today. Besides, I might actually be able to finish your birthday dinner then,' Frodo suggested teasingly, his heart sinking at the thought of Sam not aimlessly wandering into the kitchen to watch him cook again that day.

'No, I've already gone and seen him today, and besides, that Rosie Cotton's bound to be there and I'm not in the mood for being civil to her,' Sam complained. At this Frodo raised an eyebrow, but refrained from further comment, as his heart rose back to it's normal place. It had been well excepted for quite some time in the Shire that when Sam came of age he would ask Rosie to be his wife. It greatly cheered Frodo to dream that this might not be so. 'Are you sure I can't help you at all Mr. Frodo? I feel so useless with you doing all the cooking." Sam once again begged, snapping Frodo out of his thoughts.

With a final sigh, Frodo gave in. 'Fine Sam, you can chop those greens, but no peeking at what I'm cooking,' he exclaimed, 'It's not everyday you come of age and I want yours to be special.' With that he turned back to the stove, trying to turn his mind from thoughts of the hobbit standing behind him and onto the mushrooms he was unsuccessfully trying to sauté.

Sam walked over to the round table in the middle of the kitchen and slowly sat down. Without taking his eyes off Frodo he carefully began to chop the array of greens as he had been directed to. He worked slowly, savoring the sight of Frodo working only a few feet away. He could sit and watch Frodo all day as his brow creased with concentration over his fairy blue eyes. He couldn't remember when he had started feeling this way, but he knew he couldn't bear never seeing his clear eyes again.

'Mr. Frodo,' Sam asked, wishing he could just drop the 'Mr.' as he had done so long ago in his head. Still staring acutely at Frodo's now turned back, Sam continued his question, 'What's so big about coming of age? Seems to me nothing much has changed, but everyone makes it seem like it's such a big deal.'

Frodo paused his relentless stirring. With his back still turned to Sam he explained, 'Coming of age isn't something that changes who you are, it simply means you can decide the path of your own life. It's when you leave your childhood behind and start thinking about settling down with some lad or lass for the rest of your life, or at least that's what I hear.' Frodo's words came to a stumbling halt.

Sam stared at Frodo's back. Slowly he got up and quietly stepped in Frodo's direction. 'Do you think it means I'll know when I'm in love?' he asked.

Frodo laughed bitterly, 'It doesn't mean you'll know, it just means you can do something permanent about it if you are.' His last words were barely a whisper, 'Why Sam, do you think you are?'

When Frodo didn't receive an answer he turned to find Sam standing barely a foot away. He wondered at the look on Sam's face as he slowly stepped closer and leaned in, barely brushing Frodo's lips with his own. Frodo froze, so shocked by Sam's sudden action that he couldn't respond and stood for long moments lost in the feeling of Sam's butterfly kisses. Sam finally despaired and began to pull away. Opening his eyes with the surprise of Sam's retraction, Frodo saw the stricken look on his face as he hastily retreated from Frodo's frozen lips. The despair showing so naked in Sam's eyes snapped the barrier of disbelief which had rooted him in place. Reaching quickly behind Sam's neck, he pulled Sam's mouth towards his own, devouring his lips and locking him in a passionate embrace. They stood there entwined for minutes beyond time.

As the forgotten mushrooms on the stove began to smoke, Sam slowly pulled away. Carefully opening his golden eyes to stare into Frodo's blue, he grinned. Pulling Frodo closer into his arms, Sam finally answered Frodo's nearly forgotten question from an eternity before, 'I reckon I am Frodo,' He whispered as he slowly pushed a beaming Frodo towards the kitchen floor, 'I reckon I am.'

The End