Nojuku tomo Koinonayami: Keikendan Sam-kun
"The Pain of Love and Camping: Sam's Story"
---
Mistress-Samwise: Huzzah! This has got to be on my favorites. It's just so dang funny, and it's even a little light on the angst and slash, so it's fun for everyone!
So, you're prolly wondering why I decided to use Japanese words for the title and chapter titles. Well, you see, if I had the time/money/resources/manpower this would be an anime. While you're reading this, imagine everything going on in anime. It's freaking hilarious that way. Plus, I've slipped some anime-like things into this story, like Sam's nosebleed later on and stuff I borrowed from Neon Genesis Evangelion (like the major point in this story. You'll see what I mean.). The only thing is that I hope I'm using the right words. ^__^;;; Heh-heh. So, if any of you know Japanese and spot something wrong with any of my titles, tell me and I'll change it right away.
Anywho… Sit back and enjoy Nojuku tomo Koinonayami: Keikendan Sam-kun! Arigatou! *bows*
---
Sam stood in front of the door entering into Bag End. He had been standing there for quite some time, his hand in a fist, halfway raised to the door, ready to knock it. His other hand was in a fist, also, tightly clenched at his side. His mind, on the other hand, was blank as he stared at the door just a few inches away from his face. Usually, he would be running over a list of things to say once the door was answered, but this time, he was not so lucky to be capable for such activity.
Just then, the door swung open. Behind it, Frodo was intently getting his arm through his overcoat sleeve as his other hand laid upon the doorknob. Sam was frozen, his fist still hanging in midair. He was just about to open his mouth when Frodo looked up from his coat.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Hello, Sam."
Sam gave a quick jolt of surprise. "G-Good mornin', sir," he managed to say. His mind continued to go blank. They both stood there for a moment, waiting for something to happen. Sam suddenly remembered about his hand and stuffed it, along with the other, into his pockets; a normal and rather instinctive habit of his. Frodo finished buttoning up his coat and let out a sigh.
"So," he said, grinning amusedly. "How long have you been out here this time?"
Sam's lips moved wordlessly as he struggled to let out even the most intelligible of sounds. Frodo chuckled and patted Sam's shoulder.
"That's alright," he replied. "You've saved me a bit of trouble anyway."
"I have, sir?" Sam squeaked incredulously.
"Yes, you have, if you can believe it," Frodo stated. "I was just on my way out to the market to fetch some things, and it's always so dreadfully lonely going all by myself, so I thought you might have liked coming along."
"Sir!" Sam hiccupped. "Of course, sir!"
Frodo made a gentle smile. "Oh, please don't sound so shocked when I ask you something. You remind me of a frightened rabbit sometimes."
"Sorry, sir," Sam mumbled, blushing.
"And you don't always need to keep calling me 'sir'."
Sam gave Frodo a serious look. "Now, you know I can't do that, Mister Frodo."
Frodo sighed. "Yes, Sam, I do. But I thought that since we're friends, you might like to try to be a bit more casual. I hope I don't impose all this stuffy formality on you."
"No, sir, but I do this on my own accord, thank you very much."
Frodo shook his head. "Samwise Gamgee… When will you stop acting like your father and start becoming your own person?"
Sam looked very hurt at Frodo's remark. He nervously turned his back on his master and blushed darkly, clenching his fists in his pockets.
"Now, Mister Frodo…" he murmured, sounding deeply hurt. "Don't you go talking to your Sam like that…"
Frodo frowned and lowered his eyes ashamedly. "I apologize, Sam," he cooed. "That was not very polite of me."
Sam swung around on his heels. "Oh, no, no, no, sir!" he cried quickly, taking Frodo's hands in his and gripping them tightly. "It's all my fault, Mister Frodo. There no need for apologizin'. I should apologize for overreactin'--"
"That's kind of you to say, Sam," Frodo answered. He looked up at Sam's worried eyes. "But you can't always take the blame for the mistakes that I make. I know you're trying to help me when you do that, and I thank you for your concern, but I think I can handle things by myself now."
Frodo smiled kindly and slowly slid his hands out of Sam's grasp. Blushing even brighter, Sam wrenched his eyes away from Frodo's icy blue ones and settled them on the floor in front of his feet. He said nothing, too nervous to speak.
"There, there, Sam…" Frodo wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulder and gently squeezed him. "I am glad you care so much about me. Please don't think I hate you for that. You are one of my closest friends, after all."
Sam's eyes were wide as saucers as he felt Frodo's arm about him. His whole body went stiff and Frodo drew himself away from Sam, his brow creased in worry.
"I'm sorry," Frodo stated. "I should remember you don't like me doing that."
Sam said nothing, his eyes still huge and his jaw tightly clenched shut.
"Someday, you'll be ready to be my friend," Frodo continued. "Please alert me of it when you find the proper date."
Sam gulped and shook his head as Frodo passed by him, out onto the front step. Frodo turned around.
"Now," Frodo said, grinning, back to his usual self again. "Are you coming or not?"
Sam gave a small flinch of surprise and stepped outside, closing the door behind himself.
It was late June. Frodo was thirty-five years old and Sam was twenty-two. It had been fourteen years since Frodo was moved to Hobbiton, twelve since the fire, and seven since he saw his last of Dreena. It had been nearly five years since Bilbo had disappeared from the Shire, leaving his heir, Frodo, all of Bag End, its contents wherein, and a ring.
"Yes," Frodo stated as he walked out through the front gate. "It is a nice day out today."
"As handsome a day as any other, sir," Sam replied.
"If you insist…" Frodo stooped to pick a morning glory off its vine tangled around a fencepost.
"These are coming in beautiful this year," Frodo commented, spinning the blossom between his thumb and forefinger.
"You truly think so, Mister Frodo?" Sam asked shyly. "I planted them myself this spring."
"And you did a fine job, if I should say so myself."
Sam made no reply, save for the deep reddening of his cheeks. Frodo just smiled and continued walking.
For many minutes, neither had said anything, both perfectly content with the silence. The day was indeed very pleasant and more than made up for the lack of words between the two hobbits. While Frodo had been admiring the beauty of the landscape around him, Sam had been staring nervously at the ground in front of himself, his hands in his pockets. Beside him, he could hear Frodo let out a soft sigh. Sam slowly looked up at him.
He couldn't help but admire the beauty of Frodo's face as it glowed brightly in the sunlight. His eyes scanned the gentle curve of Frodo's lips and jaw, down his pale throat. The first two buttons on his shirt were undone, so Sam could see the shadowy dip in Frodo's collarbone. Looking back up at Frodo's hallow cheekbones, Sam remembered just how slender Frodo was; he was certainly unlike any hobbit Sam had seen. But Sam had then come to the conclusion that his master looked more like an elf than a hobbit, for if it wasn't for his ashen complexion and slight body, it was for his eyes.
Sam shyly brought himself to gaze upon Frodo's icy blue eyes. They would seem warm and yet cutting at times, and although Sam thought them the loveliest feature, he was, at times, terrified to look into them. To look into them was to stare into Frodo's soul. It was bright and keen, almost too much so for Sam to bear. But the brilliance of Frodo's spirit was what made Sam fall in love with him.
Sam was so enthralled with staring at Frodo, that he didn't notice that they both had stopped walking. Frodo was standing there with his arms folded across his chest, silently waiting for Sam to say something as Sam stared at him unblinkingly.
"Yes?" Frodo asked eventually. He was tapping his foot impatiently. "Can I help you?"
It took Sam a few moments to realize what was happening. He gave a small jump of surprise.
"N-No, sir," Sam stammered. "I-I don't need nothin', thank you."
Frodo frowned, slightly bewildered. "Whatever you say." He started walking off again. Sam lagged far behind, his hands in his pockets and his face burning red.
"You're a fool, Samwise Gamgee," he muttered to himself. "Starin' at Mister Frodo like that… Get your head out of the clouds and your feet on the ground or else people'll think you're one more screw loose."
For the rest of the little trip, Sam stayed a distance away from Frodo. He had embarrassed himself too many times in one day. But he still managed to hold for him the neatly wrapped package of goods that Frodo had purchased, even though Frodo had insisted on carrying it himself.
"You try to spare me too much sometimes," Frodo said as they were making their way back to Bag End.
"It's my job, Mister Frodo," Sam replied. "You've got enough to worry about." Sam, in truth, never quite figured that part out, because Frodo seemed to only read and sleep now that Bilbo was gone.
"It's no use with you," Frodo stated, letting out a groan. He threw his arms up. "Why do I even bother?"
Sam couldn't help but chuckle, but quickly stopped once they turned the corner for Bag End. In front of the door, there was a hobbit pounding madly and yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Come on, Frodo!" the hobbit shouted. "I know you're in there! This isn't funny!"
Frodo stopped, too, and stared at the spectacle. Soon, an amused grin grew on his face.
"Please don't break the door, Merry," Frodo called. "Or Bilbo will break you."
Merry whirled around.
"Is that so, dear cousin?" Merry called back, putting his hands on his hips. "And where, pray tell, is he?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure the instant you break something of his, he'll be here so fast it'll be like the time you stole all that chocolate from his pantry."
They both started laughing. Sam just blinked.
"Come on," Frodo said. "Let me open that door for you."
Frodo continued up the Hill to Bag End, with Sam tagging behind. Soon, the door was open conventionally and the three hobbits stepped into the corridor. Merry quickly removed the knapsack off his back and shoved it into Sam's arms before turning to face Frodo.
"Well?"
"Welcome back to Bag End, Merry," Frodo stated while giving his cousin a big hug. Merry slapped Sam on the back.
"Hey there, Sam! It's been a while."
Sam blushed surprisedly. "H-Hello, Mister Merry…"
"Still the shy, little hobbitlad, aren't we? But you certainly don't look like one anymore." Merry poked at Sam's muscular arm. "What do you make him do, Frodo? Lift those heavy Elvish books of your uncle's?"
One thing anyone could admit was true about Samwise Gamgee is that he looked far from out-of-shape. Like every normal hobbit, he certainly ate well enough, for he was as good a weightlifter as a cook. He was turning out to be a very handsome tweenager, indeed.
"I don't know how he does it," Frodo said, poking at Sam, too. "But he's certainly making the rest of us look bad, am I right?"
Frodo and Merry started laughing. Sam just blinked, his face the reddest it's ever been and his body visibly trembling.
"Good heavens!" Merry exclaimed, looking over at Sam's face. "Is he always this uptight?"
"I guess you could say that," Frodo replied. "But lately, he's been acting stranger than usual."
"S-Sir," Sam whimpered. "I'm standin' right here…"
"I'm sorry, Sam," Frodo chuckled. "It's just that sometimes I wonder if the only reason you're my friend is because you're so amusing."
Sam frowned, looking very, very hurt. "M-Mister Frodo!"
"Oh, Sam, I'm only kidding around," Frodo said, trying to comfort the injured hobbit. "We'll stop now, right, Merry?"
Merry shook his head wildly in agreement. Frodo casually laid an arm on Sam's shoulder.
"Oh, come on, Sam," he said, smiling. "I'll make everyone some tea. Will that make you feel better?"
"Only if I do it for you, sir," Sam answered meekly, his face flushed.
Frodo nodded his head. "Of course, of course. How can I forget?"
After a few minutes, Sam contently served his peers as they talked amongst each other.
"If I may be so bold to ask, Merry," Frodo said, swirling the tea around in his mug. "Exactly why are you here on such short notice?"
"Ah, I knew you'd ask that," Merry replied. "For you see, I had gotten myself into a tad of trouble with my dad and… uh… long story short, I decided to come here for a couple of days." He smiled widely. Frodo let out a groan.
"Mer-ry…" Frodo rubbed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "What did you do this time?"
"What I did is not really important--"
"Merry. Tell me."
"It was a only a little mishap with…"
"With…?"
"With… some…" He mumbled the last word under his breath. Frodo stared at him grimly.
"Merry. Tell me, or you're out."
Letting out a sigh, Merry shifted nervously in his chair,
"I had a little too much ale and… passed out in the living room."
Frodo laughed loudly until he had to gasp for air.
"Hah! Twenty-nine years old and only the first time? But you are certainly living up to the name Brandybuck nicely. And I'm sure you ran all the way here to tell me that, right?"
"Actually… That's another thing. You see (and this is the funny part) my father didn't yell at me. He just stood there with that look he makes (you know… that one?), and he just sort of groaned. rubbed his temples, and said 'I don't even want to look at you right now.'. So, I said 'I can leave, if you like.'. He said 'Yes… I would do that if I were you.'. He then continued to look even worse, and I said 'Maybe I'll just go to Frodo's.'. He said 'Anywhere but here.' and proceeded to grasp at his head in pain. So… That's how I ended up here."
Frodo chuckled and leaned back in his chair.
"Well… You have certainly caught me unprepared for entertaining. If you told me you were coming (which you couldn't have, I know), I would have cleared all those books and manuscripts out of the guest room--"
Merry cut in. "I had a little bit of a different idea, Frodo. No offence, but you're not the first I'd consider as the perfect model for a host." Merry grinned as Frodo gave him a cutting stare. "I thought it would be a great idea if we took a camping trip, just like when we were lads."
"Brilliant!" Frodo exclaimed. "It would be like old times, wouldn't it? You trying for an hour trying to get a fire started while I attempt pitching a tent that won't collapse on us in the middle of the night and all the while it's raining sheets…"
Merry and Frodo laughed heartily and continued to reminisce. Sam just blinked, drained his mugs of its last few drops of tea, and stood from his chair. He was about to push it back under the table when Merry noticed his leaving.
"Oh, and you can come with us too, Sam, if you'd like." Merry didn't even notice Sam's face grow more and more red as he continued talking. "We really could use another person, seeing as Frodo and I can barely set up a tent properly, let alone even survive by our selves."
"M-Me, M-Mister Merry?" Sam stuttered incredulously, grasping onto the back of the chair to keep himself from falling over.
Merry let out a chuckle. "Yes, you." He smiled slyly. "What's the matter? Too afraid to go?"
"N-No!" Sam replied, turning an even brighter red. "It's just… It's just that I never went on a campin' trip before…"
"Well, there's a first time for everything," Merry stated, amused at Sam's previous outrageous reactions. Sam turned to his master, nervously fiddling with the cuff on his left sleeve.
"Is that alright, Mister Frodo, sir?" Sam asked timidly.
Frodo smiled. "Of course, Sam! I was just about to ask you about that myself." While Sam blushed shyly, Frodo turned to his cousin. "I think that we should get everything ready tonight and set out in the morning. I'm sure you would like to get at least one good night of sleep, right?"
"One that won't result in a hang-over, I assure you," Merry said while nodding. He got up from his seat and started walking off. "Well, I've got everything I need…"
Frodo pulled Merry back by the shirt. "Where do you think you're going? You may be company, but you still need to help get everything together. I'm sure you remember where the tent is."
"Yes," Merry answered sarcastically. "It's in the shed." He closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows nonchalantly. "What of it?"
"Go and get it, Merry," Frodo replied plainly and pointed towards the door. Merry stuck out his tongue and tromped off. Sam was just about to say something before Frodo cut him off.
"Before you volunteer to fetch the tent the yourself, Sam, I'll have you know he brought this on himself." He grinned. "That tent must weigh at least sixty pounds." Sam was about to say something else, but he was cut off again. "And, yes, there is something else you can help out with." Sam looked confused.
"I need you to get your things together so that we'll all be ready tomorrow morning," Frodo continued. "We'll most likely being stopping on the way for breakfast--"
"No we won't, Mister Frodo," Sam broke in, shaking his head. "None of us will be taking even one step outside without a proper meal."
"Then it's settled," Frodo stated resolutely. "You'll get your things ready tonight, bring it all over here, stay the night, and then make us all breakfast before we go. How does that sound?"
Sam once again resumed his usual flushed complexion. "If you want me to, sir."
"It would certainly make things more convenient," Frodo added. "Now, if you excuse me, I must go check on my cousin to see if he hasn't gotten trapped underneath all that canvas."
Sam watched as Frodo left the room. Shortly after, there was a loud cry from Merry.
"Frodo!" Sam could hear clearly coming from outside. "Help!"
"Ah, damn…" Frodo hissed through his teeth. He quickly ran outside. After hearing the door close, Sam immediately collapsed in his chair. He let out a loud sigh, shaking his head incredulously and holding his face in his hands.
"I'm goin' on a campin' trip with Mister Frodo--" Suddenly, there was another loud yelp from Merry, causing Sam to cringe, and then there was more cursing from Frodo. "And a Brandybuck."
Sam let out another sigh and sunk back in his chair. Just then, Frodo and Merry burst back into the house.
"I can't believe you can't handle one simple, little tent!" Frodo complained. Merry growled, rubbing his lower back.
"'Little'? 'Little'?!" Merry snapped. "If I wanted this kind of punishment, I could have stayed home!"
"Is that so?" Frodo retorted, placing his hands on his hips. "I could easily send you back home with the explanation that you took a warm liking to the rest of the Old Wineyard. And you know as well as I that Saradoc would believe every word of it."
Merry let out another groan. "I hate you, Frodo Baggins!"
"Aw, Merry!" Frodo chimed beamingly, slinging an arm over Merry's slouched shoulder. "I love you, too."
Merry snarled vehemently while Frodo laughed hysterically.
"Sam," Frodo said while chuckling. "Go finish this job before somebody else's pride gets hurt."
"Yes, sir," Sam replied, trying to hide the smirk on his face while Merry snarled irately. Once he got outside, he found the tent canvas and folded-up poles in a pile on the middle of the lawn. He wrapped it all back up and slipped it under the crook of his arm like it weighed nothing at all. After striding back to the front door again, he swung it open and stepped inside.
"Mister Frodo?" he called.
"We're in here," Frodo answered from the front room.
"Mister Frodo?" Sam asked again, this time appearing in the doorway. He grinned slyly as he motioned to the tent under his arm. "Where do you want this?
At first, both Merry and Frodo were wordless and wide-eyed in amazement. Frodo's mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water as he tried to find words to say. The stunned silence was broken when Merry eventually let out an annoyed humph.
"Show-off," he grumbled. Frodo started laughing again.
"You can leave it out by the front door, Sam," Frodo stated. Shortly, Sam returned, having deposited the tent in the front foyer. Standing in front of the couch with his arms folded across his chest, he waited until Frodo and Merry parted to the opposite sides of the sofa. He sat down with a smug smile and smoothed a few of his golden-brown curls behind his ear.
"You're welcome, Mister Merry," Sam grinned wryly. The fuming Brandybuck emitted a low growl, tossing his head aside.
"Oh, leave me alone, Gamgee."
Frodo chuckled. "I'll be sure you two sleep on opposite sides of the tent."
"Oh, bless me!" Sam exclaimed, jumping up like a surprised cat. "I nearly forgot… I need to get my things!" He then quickly shuffled out of the room. Merry blinked.
"You have the strangest friends," he told Frodo, shaking his head.
"To each his own, dear coz," Frodo replied.
"Whatever you say…"
Soon, it was evening time. Frodo was lounging in front of the fireplace, reading a book as Merry was still milling about.
"Did you find that bedroll yet?" Frodo asked, licking his finger and turning the page. Merry let out a grumble.
"No," he snorted. "Why are you making me do this?"
"The rules are a little different around here," Frodo replied.
"Excuses, excuses," Merry retorted. "You're lazy."
Frodo shrugged his shoulders and nodded. "That's pretty much right."
Merry made another groan. There came a knock at the front door. Frodo threw a look at Merry. Knowing what he meant, Merry went to the door himself and opened it.
"There you are, Sam!" Merry said, letting him in. "Frodo's been making me work all day and I'm positively famished!"
"Do you have everything, Sam?" Frodo asked while setting his book aside.
"Yes, sir," Sam answered, setting down a basket and then slinging the knapsack off his back. "Includin' my Gaffer's permission. He wasn't too keen at first, but I told him that I'd be alright."
"Not with him around," Frodo pointed towards Merry.
"You can be so cruel," Merry scowled. Frodo smiled obnoxiously.
"Is there anything you need me to do, sir?" Sam inquired.
"Food would be great," Merry commented before Frodo had the chance. Frodo rolled his eyes.
"For once, I would agree with you on that," Frodo added. "Would you be so kind, Sam?"
Sam nodded his head and set off for the kitchen. Frodo watched as he walked off.
"Merry," Frodo said while turning to his cousin. "You've never really tasted Sam's cooking before, have you?"
Merry shook his head. Frodo chuckled while standing up from his chair.
"Well, then…" Frodo slapped Merry on the back and went to join Sam in the kitchen. Merry blinked.
Sam was busily peeling potatoes when Frodo walked up behind him.
"Hello there, Sam."
Turning around, Sam blushed brightly. "Oh! Hello, Mister Frodo."
Frodo peered over Sam's shoulder. "What are you making tonight?"
Sam smiled and reached for a basket that was sitting on the counter. "You and Mister Merry are in for a real treat." He pulled the cloth covering back, revealing over a dozen fresh mushrooms. Frodo's bright blue eyes widened in wonder.
"Daisy put up a real fight for these," Sam continued. "But I wanted to make sure my master and his cousin ate well this evening."
"We certainly will," Frodo agreed heartily. Sam smiled and blushed shyly. Suddenly, Merry appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"I smell mushrooms," he said in a singsong voice. He dashed up to the counter to gape at the basket. "Beautiful… Simply gorgeous!"
"It'll get better, believe me," Frodo added. Sam blushed even brighter, nervous being the center of attention. Frodo sensed Sam's distress and started shoving Merry out of the kitchen.
"I believe our dinner will never get finished if you stand here gawking at it."
"Me?" Merry retorted, bracing his heels into the tiled floor. "I saw the way you were looking at those mushrooms. You looked about ready to snatch them right from under poor Sam's nose."
"Don't you worry about poor Sam," Frodo replied, pushing even more forcefully against Merry. "He knows what he's doing." He looked over his shoulder at Sam. "Isn't that right?"
Sam blinked once or twice, and then shook his head in agreement. Frodo smiled.
"See?" he said to Merry. "I'm sure if you stay here any longer, something bad is bound to happen. Now, let's leave Master Gamgee to his work."
Frodo then successfully got Merry out of the kitchen after giving as powerful shove. Merry stumbled to regain his footing.
"Yes, sir," Merry stated loudly and sarcastically as he stood attention. He gave a haughty salute to Frodo, and Frodo responded in kind, sticking out his tongue. They then left for the living room, leaving Sam grasping onto the counter rim as he tried to keep himself from crumpling to his knees.
"Oh, glory be to heaven an' earth…" he mumbled dazedly, his deep brown eyes wide as saucers. Too much was happening too fast. Just thinking about the fact that he would be spending the night in Bag End made him dizzy. He didn't even want to consider thinking about sleeping in the same tent as his master, more or less the possibility of being right next to him. So, taking his mind off of the matter, Sam shook it all off and returned his thoughts to preparing dinner, a far less nerve-racking matter. An entire dinner ruined because he was daydreaming? Just what would his master say?
---
Mistress-Samwise: So? Whadda think? Crazy-go-nuts, huh? Anywho, all sorts of crazy crap is going to happen, so stay tuned for it! Oh, the many things I'll be doing to poor, little Sam-kun… I mean, I can't torture Frodo all the time. Anywho… I'm going to drool over all the new anime I've gotten. Cowboy Bebop rocks. Sayonara! ^___^