Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or story of any of the Lord of the
Ring books. These are strictly the property of JRR Tolkein.
Author's Note: Unable to resist the temptation, I find myself writing yet another tale of Samwise Gamgee, fraught with danger and woe! I suspect it will be shorter than my last attempt (18 chapters) but shorter than my first (4). I hope those of you that choose to read this story enjoy it.
Chapter 1 The Gardens of Rivendell
It was a beautiful day in Rivendell. The sun was shining, the flowers blooming, and it seemed as if there was always music in the air. Sam had not had much opportunity to explore the beauty of the elven sanctuary in the time they had been there. All his time had been spent next to Frodo's bed as Sam waited for him to recover. Sam shook his head at the memories : the fight with the horrifying Ringwraiths, Arwen's flight to Rivendell bearing Frodo, and Sam's own worry-filled journey with Strider and the others. He had been terribly frightened when he saw Frodo's lifeless body lying in the large bed. He was so pale and his arm, so deathly cold. They told him that Frodo was fading, turning into a wraith like the Nazgul. Nothing could have been more horrifying to the young gardener. Frodo was his life. If anything happened to him, Sam wasn't sure he could go on.
However, largely due to the healing skills of Lord Elrond, Frodo was on the mend. Sam had heard the wizard, Gandalf, say that the wound would never completely heal, but at least Frodo would recover. Still, Sam refused to leave Frodo's side. He felt it was his duty to remain there to assist his poor master in any way possible during his convalescence. Pippin and Merry stopped by on a regular basis and entertained Frodo and Sam with their tales of adventure. They had become quite enthralled with the elves, the apparently, the elves with them. Elves were always telling them stories, showing them the sights of Rivendell, and the two young hobbits felt quite important.
"Sam." scolded Merry, "You really need to get out more! Rivendell is a marvelous place! The gardens themselves would entertain you for days! They are that magnificent! Look at this incredible apple." He tossed Sam a creamy, translucent fruit. Sam looked at it curiously, then tossed it behind him onto his bed in the adjoining alcove. He would eat it later. Merry went on. "I picked it myself. You would love it! Frodo is doing better now. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you went out for an hour or two, would you, Frodo?"
Frodo was leaning back on his pillows. He was still very pale and weak, but looking better every day. His left arm and shoulder felt almost normal again. He smiled at Sam's scowling face. He knew perfectly well that Sam would feel he was being negligent in his duties if he were to go off on some pleasure jaunt just to look at gardens. Frodo wasn't sure Sam had even been out of the room in the days since they had first arrived. He felt a pang of guilt at this.
"Sam," he said gravely, "I think you should go out. No! Wait! Hear me out!" Sam's mouth had flown open in outrage at the Frodo's pronouncement,. Frodo continued. "You have been cooped up in this room with me for days and days now. I hear the gardens of Rivendell are legendary and something no gardener should miss. Who knows, maybe when we return to the Shire, I would like you to plant me some similar gardens! Anyway, Bilbo will be visiting me later this afternoon so I won't be alone. I want you to go and see some of the sights here. After all," he smiled at Sam's glowering face, "You said you couldn't wait to see the elves!'
Sam could see that argument was useless. He had to confess to himself that he did want to see the gardens. Nothing made him happier than to be among beautiful growing things. He had been somewhat envious of Pippin and Merry's freedom and experiences with the elves. Not that he would have considered joining them as long as Frodo was ill mind you, but still. he would dearly love to learn more about the elves and their realm of Rivendell.
As promised, Bilbo arrived early in the afternoon. He had been to visit Frodo many times while he was ill and was delighted to see his nephew's continued improvement. "Hullo, Frodo, m'lad!" he called as he tottered in through the door. He had aged considerably since leaving the Shire and his movements had become slow and stiff. "How are you feeling today?" Sam hurried to bring a chair for Mr. Bilbo and set it near Frodo's bed. He was very fond of the elderly hobbit and had been thrilled to find him here among the elves.
"I'm doing much better, Bilbo," replied Frodo truthfully. "I hope to get out of this bed before too much longer!" He then turned to Sam, who was hovering unobtrusively nearby. "Alright, Sam" he said, "Bilbo is here. I am fine. Now, it is time for you to go out and do a little exploring!"
Sam stood in the corner of the room twisting the ends of a dust cloth he had been using. He was frowning worriedly. He just didn't feel right leaving Mr. Frodo all alone, even if Mr. Bilbo was there. "Well, " he began slowly, "Beggin' yer pardon, Mr. Frodo, but I just don't feel right somehow, leavin' you alone here. What if you need somethin? I really don't mind stayin!" His eyes pleaded with Frodo's to let him remain.
Frodo laughed as he shook his head. "No, Sam," he replied firmly, "You deserve some time to yourself! Just an hour at least! I will be perfectly alright! Now, go!"
Sam sighed deeply, and walked reluctantly to the door. He looked back anxiously at his friend and master lying in splendor in the elaborately carved elven bed. "Go on, Sam!" ordered Frodo, "NOW!" Sighing again, Sam slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him. Sam found himself outside, immersed in the shimmering beauty of Rivendell. The towering trees with their gold-tipped leaves, the warm, fragrant air, and the overall peace of the place enthralled him. Maybe an hour or so walking the grounds wouldn't be so bad. He looked around curiously, trying to decide which way to go. A tall, dark-haired elf, resplendent in robes of incandescent blue glided by him. "Um, excuse me, sir" faltered the shy hobbit. He had never spoken directly to an elf before and he was more than a little intimidated. The imposing figure turned towards him.
"Yes?" the elf queried, "Do you require something?"
Sam chewed his lip, unable to reply. His face burned and he tried to find the courage to speak up. How he wished he were back in the safety of Mr. Frodo's room! The elf continued to look down at him, his mouth twitching with humor. Sam took a deep breath and looking down at his feet, mumbled, "Pardon me, sir, but could you point me towards the gardens?" There, he had managed to get the words out! He tentatively raised his eyes to those of the elf's. The elf was smiling.
"Yes, Master Halfling," replied the elf, seeming much friendlier somehow, his dark eyes twinkling, "Simply follow this path. It will lead you to the gardens of Rivendell and into the forests beyond. I hope you enjoy their tranquility." With a nod, the elf continued on his way as Sam stared after him, open-mouthed.
When Sam had gathered his wits about him (elves somehow had an unnerving effect on him), he started down the winding, tree-lined path. Every plant he saw was intriguing to him. As he entered the gardens, he stopped dead in awe. There were bushes bursting with delicate rose-colored blooms, brilliant multi-colored flowers of all shapes and sizes sprang from the ground in elaborate patterns. Sam had never seen so many different kinds in his life. He closely examined each bloom and leaf, attempting to commit them to memory. Perhaps he could plant some of these back in the gardens at Bag End. In his mind, he began creating the magnificent flowerbeds he would create back home. Mr. Frodo would be so surprised!
He continued to walk down the path and soon found himself in the cool forests surrounding the gardens. These were just as soothing to the weary gardener as the elaborate gardens had been. The quiet of the forest twilight relaxed and refreshed him. He continued to walk deeper and deeper into the forest. As he walked along, he eventually noticed that the path skirted the edge of a narrow river. Sam stopped a moment and looked across the river to a small flower-filled clearing just on the opposite side. The flowers were of a brilliant gold and red, and unfamiliar to Sam. He could smell their fragrance on the gentle breeze and he felt an urge to go explore them further.
The path did not go to the river, so he was forced to make his way down the brushy banks to the edge. It was almost as if someone had planted a wall of briars along the river bank. He looked apprehensively at the water flowing quickly over the rocks just beneath the surface. . Fortunately, it didn't look too deep (as Sam could not swim) and he felt he could safely make his way to the other side. He carefully picked his way across, leaping from stone to stone. He almost slipped a few times, but quickly regained his balance. When he made it safely to the other side, he breathed a sigh of relief. He then began to pick his way through the brambles on the far side of the river.
It took longer than he had hoped and when he emerged from the briars, he was hot, scratched and irritable. He was beginning to seriously doubt the wisdom of crossing the river. "Well, you're here now, Samwise Gamgee," he told himself, "Let's go look at them flowers and then we'd best be getting back. Looks like the sun is beginnin' to set!" It was with much surprise that Sam noticed the shadows in the clearing were lengthening and the sunlight was beginning to fade. He told himself he would just look at the flowers for a moment and then head back to Mr. Frodo. It would only take a few minutes or so he thought.
Sam made his way from the river bank into the small clearing. The flowers were amazing! Their bell-shaped blooms glowed in golden sunlight. Sam was entranced by their beauty and their sweet, fruity scent. He could stay here for hours, just breathing in their heady fragrance. He wandered farther into the glade, delighted with what he saw, but as he reached the end furthest from the river, Sam began to experience a feeling of disquietude. He looked around nervously into the darkness of the woods beyond. The shadows were becoming deeper as the sun sank lower into the west. "C'mon, Samwise," he scolded himself, "Yer in Rivendell for goodness' sake! Nothin' will bother you here!" However, he was feeling more and more anxious and decided it was time to leave. As he turned to go, he stopped abruptly and stared in horror. There, hovering in the shadows of the forest was the hulking figure of what appeared to Sam as some sort of hideous monster. He had never seen even a regular orc before and he certainly knew nothing of the monstrous Uruk-hai, Saurman's inhuman creations. If he had known their true nature, he might have been even more frightened.
Sam began to slowly back away, a cold sweat covering his trembling body. He knew that the monster, whatever it was, could easily overtake him, but he was still hoping that perhaps he hadn't been seen. Then, the vile creature spoke, it's voice a low, ominous growl. "I can see you halfling." Sam gasped in fear. It seemed as if he couldn't get enough air. He turned to run, but in his panic, tripped over a branch and went sprawling. Before he could regain his feet, he felt himself lifted into the air and turned to face the horrifying leer of the Uruk. "You are coming with me, Halfling," snarled the monster giving Sam a shake, its breath reeking of rotting meat. "The Master has need of you!"
He dropped Sam to the ground and bound the struggling hobbit's hands. Sam attempted to crawl away, still desperate to escape from the clutches of the Uruk-hai. The Uruk growled in irritation then casually reached over and knocked Sam senseless with his massive fist. Grunting in satisfaction, the Uruk lifted Sam's bound hands over his head and trotted out of the clearing, the unconscious hobbit bouncing unnoticed on the Uruk's broad back.
Author's Note: Unable to resist the temptation, I find myself writing yet another tale of Samwise Gamgee, fraught with danger and woe! I suspect it will be shorter than my last attempt (18 chapters) but shorter than my first (4). I hope those of you that choose to read this story enjoy it.
Chapter 1 The Gardens of Rivendell
It was a beautiful day in Rivendell. The sun was shining, the flowers blooming, and it seemed as if there was always music in the air. Sam had not had much opportunity to explore the beauty of the elven sanctuary in the time they had been there. All his time had been spent next to Frodo's bed as Sam waited for him to recover. Sam shook his head at the memories : the fight with the horrifying Ringwraiths, Arwen's flight to Rivendell bearing Frodo, and Sam's own worry-filled journey with Strider and the others. He had been terribly frightened when he saw Frodo's lifeless body lying in the large bed. He was so pale and his arm, so deathly cold. They told him that Frodo was fading, turning into a wraith like the Nazgul. Nothing could have been more horrifying to the young gardener. Frodo was his life. If anything happened to him, Sam wasn't sure he could go on.
However, largely due to the healing skills of Lord Elrond, Frodo was on the mend. Sam had heard the wizard, Gandalf, say that the wound would never completely heal, but at least Frodo would recover. Still, Sam refused to leave Frodo's side. He felt it was his duty to remain there to assist his poor master in any way possible during his convalescence. Pippin and Merry stopped by on a regular basis and entertained Frodo and Sam with their tales of adventure. They had become quite enthralled with the elves, the apparently, the elves with them. Elves were always telling them stories, showing them the sights of Rivendell, and the two young hobbits felt quite important.
"Sam." scolded Merry, "You really need to get out more! Rivendell is a marvelous place! The gardens themselves would entertain you for days! They are that magnificent! Look at this incredible apple." He tossed Sam a creamy, translucent fruit. Sam looked at it curiously, then tossed it behind him onto his bed in the adjoining alcove. He would eat it later. Merry went on. "I picked it myself. You would love it! Frodo is doing better now. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you went out for an hour or two, would you, Frodo?"
Frodo was leaning back on his pillows. He was still very pale and weak, but looking better every day. His left arm and shoulder felt almost normal again. He smiled at Sam's scowling face. He knew perfectly well that Sam would feel he was being negligent in his duties if he were to go off on some pleasure jaunt just to look at gardens. Frodo wasn't sure Sam had even been out of the room in the days since they had first arrived. He felt a pang of guilt at this.
"Sam," he said gravely, "I think you should go out. No! Wait! Hear me out!" Sam's mouth had flown open in outrage at the Frodo's pronouncement,. Frodo continued. "You have been cooped up in this room with me for days and days now. I hear the gardens of Rivendell are legendary and something no gardener should miss. Who knows, maybe when we return to the Shire, I would like you to plant me some similar gardens! Anyway, Bilbo will be visiting me later this afternoon so I won't be alone. I want you to go and see some of the sights here. After all," he smiled at Sam's glowering face, "You said you couldn't wait to see the elves!'
Sam could see that argument was useless. He had to confess to himself that he did want to see the gardens. Nothing made him happier than to be among beautiful growing things. He had been somewhat envious of Pippin and Merry's freedom and experiences with the elves. Not that he would have considered joining them as long as Frodo was ill mind you, but still. he would dearly love to learn more about the elves and their realm of Rivendell.
As promised, Bilbo arrived early in the afternoon. He had been to visit Frodo many times while he was ill and was delighted to see his nephew's continued improvement. "Hullo, Frodo, m'lad!" he called as he tottered in through the door. He had aged considerably since leaving the Shire and his movements had become slow and stiff. "How are you feeling today?" Sam hurried to bring a chair for Mr. Bilbo and set it near Frodo's bed. He was very fond of the elderly hobbit and had been thrilled to find him here among the elves.
"I'm doing much better, Bilbo," replied Frodo truthfully. "I hope to get out of this bed before too much longer!" He then turned to Sam, who was hovering unobtrusively nearby. "Alright, Sam" he said, "Bilbo is here. I am fine. Now, it is time for you to go out and do a little exploring!"
Sam stood in the corner of the room twisting the ends of a dust cloth he had been using. He was frowning worriedly. He just didn't feel right leaving Mr. Frodo all alone, even if Mr. Bilbo was there. "Well, " he began slowly, "Beggin' yer pardon, Mr. Frodo, but I just don't feel right somehow, leavin' you alone here. What if you need somethin? I really don't mind stayin!" His eyes pleaded with Frodo's to let him remain.
Frodo laughed as he shook his head. "No, Sam," he replied firmly, "You deserve some time to yourself! Just an hour at least! I will be perfectly alright! Now, go!"
Sam sighed deeply, and walked reluctantly to the door. He looked back anxiously at his friend and master lying in splendor in the elaborately carved elven bed. "Go on, Sam!" ordered Frodo, "NOW!" Sighing again, Sam slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him. Sam found himself outside, immersed in the shimmering beauty of Rivendell. The towering trees with their gold-tipped leaves, the warm, fragrant air, and the overall peace of the place enthralled him. Maybe an hour or so walking the grounds wouldn't be so bad. He looked around curiously, trying to decide which way to go. A tall, dark-haired elf, resplendent in robes of incandescent blue glided by him. "Um, excuse me, sir" faltered the shy hobbit. He had never spoken directly to an elf before and he was more than a little intimidated. The imposing figure turned towards him.
"Yes?" the elf queried, "Do you require something?"
Sam chewed his lip, unable to reply. His face burned and he tried to find the courage to speak up. How he wished he were back in the safety of Mr. Frodo's room! The elf continued to look down at him, his mouth twitching with humor. Sam took a deep breath and looking down at his feet, mumbled, "Pardon me, sir, but could you point me towards the gardens?" There, he had managed to get the words out! He tentatively raised his eyes to those of the elf's. The elf was smiling.
"Yes, Master Halfling," replied the elf, seeming much friendlier somehow, his dark eyes twinkling, "Simply follow this path. It will lead you to the gardens of Rivendell and into the forests beyond. I hope you enjoy their tranquility." With a nod, the elf continued on his way as Sam stared after him, open-mouthed.
When Sam had gathered his wits about him (elves somehow had an unnerving effect on him), he started down the winding, tree-lined path. Every plant he saw was intriguing to him. As he entered the gardens, he stopped dead in awe. There were bushes bursting with delicate rose-colored blooms, brilliant multi-colored flowers of all shapes and sizes sprang from the ground in elaborate patterns. Sam had never seen so many different kinds in his life. He closely examined each bloom and leaf, attempting to commit them to memory. Perhaps he could plant some of these back in the gardens at Bag End. In his mind, he began creating the magnificent flowerbeds he would create back home. Mr. Frodo would be so surprised!
He continued to walk down the path and soon found himself in the cool forests surrounding the gardens. These were just as soothing to the weary gardener as the elaborate gardens had been. The quiet of the forest twilight relaxed and refreshed him. He continued to walk deeper and deeper into the forest. As he walked along, he eventually noticed that the path skirted the edge of a narrow river. Sam stopped a moment and looked across the river to a small flower-filled clearing just on the opposite side. The flowers were of a brilliant gold and red, and unfamiliar to Sam. He could smell their fragrance on the gentle breeze and he felt an urge to go explore them further.
The path did not go to the river, so he was forced to make his way down the brushy banks to the edge. It was almost as if someone had planted a wall of briars along the river bank. He looked apprehensively at the water flowing quickly over the rocks just beneath the surface. . Fortunately, it didn't look too deep (as Sam could not swim) and he felt he could safely make his way to the other side. He carefully picked his way across, leaping from stone to stone. He almost slipped a few times, but quickly regained his balance. When he made it safely to the other side, he breathed a sigh of relief. He then began to pick his way through the brambles on the far side of the river.
It took longer than he had hoped and when he emerged from the briars, he was hot, scratched and irritable. He was beginning to seriously doubt the wisdom of crossing the river. "Well, you're here now, Samwise Gamgee," he told himself, "Let's go look at them flowers and then we'd best be getting back. Looks like the sun is beginnin' to set!" It was with much surprise that Sam noticed the shadows in the clearing were lengthening and the sunlight was beginning to fade. He told himself he would just look at the flowers for a moment and then head back to Mr. Frodo. It would only take a few minutes or so he thought.
Sam made his way from the river bank into the small clearing. The flowers were amazing! Their bell-shaped blooms glowed in golden sunlight. Sam was entranced by their beauty and their sweet, fruity scent. He could stay here for hours, just breathing in their heady fragrance. He wandered farther into the glade, delighted with what he saw, but as he reached the end furthest from the river, Sam began to experience a feeling of disquietude. He looked around nervously into the darkness of the woods beyond. The shadows were becoming deeper as the sun sank lower into the west. "C'mon, Samwise," he scolded himself, "Yer in Rivendell for goodness' sake! Nothin' will bother you here!" However, he was feeling more and more anxious and decided it was time to leave. As he turned to go, he stopped abruptly and stared in horror. There, hovering in the shadows of the forest was the hulking figure of what appeared to Sam as some sort of hideous monster. He had never seen even a regular orc before and he certainly knew nothing of the monstrous Uruk-hai, Saurman's inhuman creations. If he had known their true nature, he might have been even more frightened.
Sam began to slowly back away, a cold sweat covering his trembling body. He knew that the monster, whatever it was, could easily overtake him, but he was still hoping that perhaps he hadn't been seen. Then, the vile creature spoke, it's voice a low, ominous growl. "I can see you halfling." Sam gasped in fear. It seemed as if he couldn't get enough air. He turned to run, but in his panic, tripped over a branch and went sprawling. Before he could regain his feet, he felt himself lifted into the air and turned to face the horrifying leer of the Uruk. "You are coming with me, Halfling," snarled the monster giving Sam a shake, its breath reeking of rotting meat. "The Master has need of you!"
He dropped Sam to the ground and bound the struggling hobbit's hands. Sam attempted to crawl away, still desperate to escape from the clutches of the Uruk-hai. The Uruk growled in irritation then casually reached over and knocked Sam senseless with his massive fist. Grunting in satisfaction, the Uruk lifted Sam's bound hands over his head and trotted out of the clearing, the unconscious hobbit bouncing unnoticed on the Uruk's broad back.