It was already dark out. Sam was on watch, as he was more often than not as of late. He looked into the velvet sky, stretching endlessly into the distant horizon. Sam could see the mountains encircling Mordor. He shuddered to himself. Turning, he saw that Gollum was nowhere to be seen.
ÒProbably gone off hunting,Ó Sam mumbled to himself, and glanced at GollumÕs usual sleeping place in disgust. It wasnÕt that Sam completely hated Gollum, he just could not understand how an enemy of himself and the ringbearer could be trusted, especially one so corrupted as Smeagol. Sam knew that he would protect Frodo at any cost, and certainly was not going to let Gollum cause Frodo any harm under his very nose. A sharp breeze caught SamÕs ears, and he pulled the weather-worn elven cloak around himself tighter. The cloak, despite its filth, seemed to shine with the moonlight, its silver threads glistening.
The wind was picking up, so Sam moved down into a mossy alcove under an enormous tree. He laid his shaggy brown curls against one of the large roots. The night was clear and brisk. Twilight was beginning, and Sam could see that the horizon behind the mountains was shot with light. Frodo had given Sam specific orders to wake him when it was his hour to watch, but Sam decided to let Frodo rest. Sam was greatly concerned with FrodoÕs lack of sleep and appetite recently. It caused him great pain to see his companion and master suffer day by day.
Suddenly, Sam heard a rustle come from their camp. ÒEither that Gollum is back or thereÕs some mischief about,Ó Sam thought to himself, and he jumped up to scramble back to their camp. Everything was how he had left it, but a rabbit scurried out of the shrubs past SamÕs own furry feet. Sam sat down, not wanting to take any chances. He already knew what perils they faced.
Frodo moved in his sleep. Sam looked at him, peacefully sleeping. FrodoÕs porcelain skin gleamed in the moonlight. Before he was aware of what he was doing, Sam gently stroked FrodoÕs face with his fingers. Frodo stirred again, and Sam quickly withdrew his hand. Frodo mumbled and stretched, then slowly opened his large sparkling eyes. They were blue, and they glittered like all the oceans and lakes in the world.
Frodo smiled faintly. ÒHello, Sam. Is it my turn to watch yet?Ó
Sam shifted where he sat. ÒNo, Mr. Frodo. IÕve got it for tonight. You just catch up on your sleep.Ó Frodo sleepily struggled to a sitting position, even though he did not struggle only because of exhaustion. He reached over and casually took SamÕs hand in his. ÒSam, you need to sleep as well. So far you have been doing all the work for me. Now go on, take some rest.Ó Sam sighed and gave his masterÕs hand a gentle squeeze. ÒOkay, Mr. Frodo, but you wake me if thereÕs any trouble about.Ó Frodo gave a quiet laugh. ÒOf course, Sam.Ó
Sam then went over to the alcove under the tree, and closed his own emerald eyes. He was almost asleep, when he was aroused by a soft sound. He did not move, but he could hear Frodo softly singing a song of elvish kind. Sam strained his ears to listen. FrodoÕs voice was gentle but strong, and the wind carried his words of sorrow and love towards Mordor, where they were certain to be lost. The song wavered, then ended, but was replaced by small gasps. Sam furrowed his brows and sat up. Through the grasses, Sam could see that Frodo was weeping.
At this, Sam lost all pretenses and jumped up and went to Frodo. He took FrodoÕs hands in his own and desperately whispered, ÒWhatÕs wrong, Mr. Frodo?Ó Frodo lifted his face to SamÕs, the streaks of tears like intricate rivers on his face. ÒI cannot do this, Sam. Not anymore. I am so tired and sad, and the eye of Mordor is growing in my mind.Ó Sam wasnÕt the most clever hobbit, and he did not fully understand FrodoÕs plight. He knew not how to ease his pain, and still holding his hands as he kneeled before him, he gently kissed FrodoÕs cheek. He did not really intend this as a symbol or declaration of his love, but Frodo gradually ceased his crying.
Frodo looked at Sam, almost curiously, then nodded as if he understood something and said, ÒThank you, Sam. I know all of this isnÕt easy for you either.Ó Sam sat next to him and took his hand, but found that it was freezing. The nightÕs chill had gotten to both of them at this point, so Sam took off his battered cloak and draped it around both of their shoulders. They gazed into the sky in silence. One by one, the stars came out and brightly twinkled.
ÒTheyÕre beautiful tonight, arenÕt they?Ó said Sam in reference to the stars, but Frodo had fallen asleep, his head resting on SamÕs. He looked back at the stars, and one in particular, right above them, shone incredibly bright. Sam, probably out of habit from when he was a hobbit-lad, made a wish on that star. He wished for FrodoÕs peace of mind, and for the wretched journey to be over, and, above all, for Frodo. Sighing, Sam leaned back and allowed FrodoÕs sleeping form to recline back onto him. They lay there, Sam running his fingers through FrodoÕs soft curled black hair, until he too fell asleep.
Frodo awoke later in the night to some trivial noise, and looked at the stars. Even he noticed how bright they were that night, like Silmarils that had been set in the sky by Varda. He saw the same star that Sam had, the one star that seemed to be shining down on the twain where they lay. Frodo looked around him, and feeling slightly foolish, made a wish on that star. Now his wish was never known, but one could guess, because before he fell asleep, he quietly kissed SamÕs lips. The star continued to envelope the two hobbits in its rays of hope, life, and love.