Here At The End
"I'm glad you're here, Sam. Here at the end of all things."
I thought my heart could not break anymore under this weight of grief, but even the broken shards of my heart burst into a million more pieces.
Frodo's head is resting on my shoulder and I put my arm around him, drawing him in tight, providing any small amount of protection or comfort I can as the lava pours around us as Mt. Doom explodes. It is indeed the end of all things, at least the end of the tale for poor Mister Frodo and myself.
I bitterly reproach myself as my tears, unchecked, continue to fall, but now they fall unto Mister Frodo's head instead of my empty hands. Here I am, despairing, selfishly thinking of my lost chance with Rosie, when Frodo, broken and battered, has at last gotten rid of his dreadful burden. He has saved Middle Earth from the eye of death. Would I have rather have stayed in the Shire and married Rosie leaving Frodo alone on his quest? Would I have traded my soul for the comforts of home? The very thought of ever abandoning Frodo leaves me sick and angry. Our lives are such a small price to pay for the lives of Rosie, my old Gaffer, the fellowship, and all the other free people of Middle Earth.
Frodo has returned to what he was, the good, kind master I can remember from days spent in the Shire, which seem like eons ago. That horrid ring took hold of him and dimmed his inner light that had always shone through so brightly before. The ring is gone forever now and he is free once again. He is restored-the same Frodo I have loved since my youth. There is comfort in that.
I look down at him, eyes closed, resting. He deserves rest, after all he has done. He deserves so much more than to end like this. My anger at the injustice to Frodo burns hotter than the flowing lava.
I see his hand, his bleeding finger, a terrible price to have paid. I wish that I had something, some small piece of cloth to bind his wound. The broken pieces of my heart bleed for him. I would have given my own hand to spare his.
His words echo again in my ears, "I'm glad you're here, Sam. Here at the end of all things."
Yes, I love Rosie. I wish I had told her that. But I would never commit Frodo's safety to anyone's hands but my own. I never meant to leave him and I never shall, not even in my heart. A warm feeling, a light fills me. After all we've been through, after all we've done, two small hobbits in a world much bigger than ourselves has to count for something. All hope cannot be lost.
My tears begin to subside, although their trails on my cheeks remain. Even if this is the end, I think, I'm glad to be here with Frodo, here at the end of all things.
The End
"That it should come to this."-Shakespeare-Hamlet
"Let the end try the man."-Shakespeare-Henry IV Part II
"I'm glad you're here, Sam. Here at the end of all things."
I thought my heart could not break anymore under this weight of grief, but even the broken shards of my heart burst into a million more pieces.
Frodo's head is resting on my shoulder and I put my arm around him, drawing him in tight, providing any small amount of protection or comfort I can as the lava pours around us as Mt. Doom explodes. It is indeed the end of all things, at least the end of the tale for poor Mister Frodo and myself.
I bitterly reproach myself as my tears, unchecked, continue to fall, but now they fall unto Mister Frodo's head instead of my empty hands. Here I am, despairing, selfishly thinking of my lost chance with Rosie, when Frodo, broken and battered, has at last gotten rid of his dreadful burden. He has saved Middle Earth from the eye of death. Would I have rather have stayed in the Shire and married Rosie leaving Frodo alone on his quest? Would I have traded my soul for the comforts of home? The very thought of ever abandoning Frodo leaves me sick and angry. Our lives are such a small price to pay for the lives of Rosie, my old Gaffer, the fellowship, and all the other free people of Middle Earth.
Frodo has returned to what he was, the good, kind master I can remember from days spent in the Shire, which seem like eons ago. That horrid ring took hold of him and dimmed his inner light that had always shone through so brightly before. The ring is gone forever now and he is free once again. He is restored-the same Frodo I have loved since my youth. There is comfort in that.
I look down at him, eyes closed, resting. He deserves rest, after all he has done. He deserves so much more than to end like this. My anger at the injustice to Frodo burns hotter than the flowing lava.
I see his hand, his bleeding finger, a terrible price to have paid. I wish that I had something, some small piece of cloth to bind his wound. The broken pieces of my heart bleed for him. I would have given my own hand to spare his.
His words echo again in my ears, "I'm glad you're here, Sam. Here at the end of all things."
Yes, I love Rosie. I wish I had told her that. But I would never commit Frodo's safety to anyone's hands but my own. I never meant to leave him and I never shall, not even in my heart. A warm feeling, a light fills me. After all we've been through, after all we've done, two small hobbits in a world much bigger than ourselves has to count for something. All hope cannot be lost.
My tears begin to subside, although their trails on my cheeks remain. Even if this is the end, I think, I'm glad to be here with Frodo, here at the end of all things.
The End
"That it should come to this."-Shakespeare-Hamlet
"Let the end try the man."-Shakespeare-Henry IV Part II