Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.

Standing Unknown

Rose Cotton finishes serving the hobbits at the table second breakfast. Before she disappears into the kitchen, she glances quickly at Sam with a look Frodo does not know how to interpret. Sam lazily traces circles in the table with his thumb. He only sneaked about three uncertain glances toward her before she left – and all when she was not looking at him. The look on his face resembles a deer, ready to bolt at the tiniest sign of danger.

Frodo watches his friend for a moment before digging into the food. He knows that now is not the time to question Sam.

"All right, Sam, what is it?" Frodo says with a sigh.

They are on their way to Bag End to look over how much repairing it will need.

Sam jerks his head and looks at him. "What Mister Frodo?"

"I believe you know what, my dear Sam. You have not seemed yourself around Rosie," Frodo says gently and waits for a response.

Sam looks at the ground and sighs. "I don't know if she will look with favor on my calling her," Sam confesses.

Confusion and amusement fight for dominion on Frodo's face. "I am not sure what you have to worry about, Sam. As far as I know, Rosie has had eyes for no one but you. I thought you had been courting her before we left." Frodo frowns slightly, confusion winning out.

A pained look crosses Sam's face. "I stopped calling on Rosie a few months before we left," he says in a low voice.

Frodo stops walking suddenly and stares, bewildered, at his friend. "Why?" he whispers.

"I had to make a choice, Mister Frodo," Sam says, tears starting to form in his eyes.

"Thank you for your help, Sam," Rosie said, smiling at him.

Sam nodded. "I was glad to be able to," he answered. He took a step back. "I should be going."

"Would you like to come in for tea?" she invited, pushing the door open a little more.

"Thank you kindly, Rosie, but I cannot." The words forced their way past the lump in Sam's throat. "There is much work I have to do up at Bag End with Mister Frodo moving."

Rosie lowered her head. But not before Sam could read her eyes and face. What he saw was a punch in the chest. He wished she would look at him with scorn – be angry, upset with him. But what he saw in her eyes was much worse. Before Rosie turned away, he saw pain and puzzlement. Her eyes were filled with questions which he read clearly: What have I done, Sam? Are you angry with me? Displeased with me? Has someone else caught your interest?

He hated to see what sadness he caused her. He immediately wanted to take the words back. Take the last few weeks back. He wanted to take her in his arms and claim that it was all right – that he did not want to hurt her, that there could never be anyone else, for she alone owned his heart and soul. He wanted to explain himself. But he –

"Oh, of course, how silly of me," Rosie said, laughing but without much humor, breaking into Sam's thoughts.

He winced as he looked at her bowed head. "Silly" was not a word he would use to describe her.

"I hope you have a good afternoon," she said simply.

"Thank you, Rosie."

"Take care of yourself." She lifted her head, looked at him for a moment, and then disappeared into the hole. The door closed gently behind her.

"Good-bye, Rosie," Sam said, standing there idly before the closed door for a moment before turning away.

He ran a hand through his hair. He found himself trying to keep back tears. Rosie's selflessness made his heart bleed. She was not angry, did not demand an explanation, and did not say what she thought of his behavior. Instead, she let him go without any strings attached. She was not making this easy. While he tried to distance himself, he found himself falling in love over and over with her acts of giving him freedom and not questioning him. Sam shook his head. He may have made a decision a while ago, but that still did not make the heartache easier to bear.

Sam blinks and looks at Frodo, who is waiting for him to continue. He blinks the tears back and finishes in a slightly trembling voice, "A choice between duty and love." At Frodo's silence, Sam goes on. "I had made a promise to go with you, Mister Frodo. I knew I could not ask Rosie to wait for me. There was no way of knowing when we would come back – if ever. I had already made promises to you and Gandalf. I could not make any to Rosie. Of course I could not explain myself, for then I would have broken my promise of not telling where you were really going. So I started not seeing her all the time, distancing myself."

Frodo stares at Sam, his own eyes starting to mist over. He looks into Sam's eyes with amazement, understanding.

"I chose duty, Mister Frodo," Sam breathes.

"Oh, Sam!" Frodo gasps. He is overwhelmed by what his friend had done. "What has your sacrifice cost you?" he asks. He can only imagine what his friend went through. And still is, wondering if he has not lost his chance at love and happiness, which he deserves so much.

Sam frowns and thinks back to when he had finally seen Rosie after returning to the Shire. The meeting had been awkward for him. There he was showing up at her doorstep after being gone for months, besides for weeks before leaving, having stopped courting her. He had been nervous regarding how she would react to seeing him. She had been surprised. But she had gotten over her shock and had seemed happy at seeing him again. And then…she had lashed out at him. But could he really blame her? He would have had a swirl of emotions run through him, too. But then she had stopped him before he left, apology in her eyes. Sam also remembers how her family had watched the exchange between them. Young Tom had watched him carefully as though he was waiting to see if Sam did something wrong. In fact, other than that night, Sam has never had a private moment with Rosie. There have always been others around if they happen to be in the same room.

"I do not know," he answers Frodo honestly. "She may have given up on me. She could be seeing someone else. She could have rejected me. I hope she has not given up on me. But my hope is probably in vain."

"Now you don't know that, Sam," Frodo objects. "And you will only know if you ask her."

Sam looks down thoughtfully. He nods. "You're right Mister Frodo. I can only ask her." Easier said than done, he thinks to himself. But somehow he will find a way to get a moment with Rosie. He just prays he will be able to face whatever happens – whatever becomes of his and Rosie's relationship.

Frodo pulls Sam into a hug. Please, let him find what he seeks, he silently prays. Both hobbits exchange a teary smile.

"Come on, Sam."

Together, Sam and Frodo resume walking to Bag End.

THE END