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DISCLAIMER: Everything and anything Lord of the Rings related belongs to the biggest genius that ever lived, J.R.R Tolkien. Not me.

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GO HOME

When at first Mr Frodo told me to go home, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. In fact, I was convinced that I'd misheard. It didn't make sense, for Mr Frodo to be telling me to turn back when we were on the edge of Mordor. But as he kept repeating those two words, I knew that I had heard correctly. It had only been my heart telling me that what my friend was saying couldn't possibly be true. But it was. His words were all too clear.

What grieved me the most was that this time, he meant it. There'd been many times in the past where Mr Frodo had told me to return home, that he had to continue on alone. But each of those times, his eyes had betrayed him. For his eyes were honest, and that honesty revealed how scared he truly was. Not only for himself and for Middle-Earth, but for me. I know he felt it was his duty to protect me, and the only way he figured he could do that was by sending me away from the immediate danger. Yet it was my duty to protect him even more so. It had been ever since that fateful day Gandalf had told me not to "lose him or leave him, Samwise Gamgee". I wouldn't. I couldn't. Mr Frodo was my friend, and even though there came many times that I wished I was back home, I had to remain loyal to him, to that promise. Besides, if I left, hope left. And I could not let him continue without any hope.

This time though, his eyes were set and showed determination and hardiness. I had never seen him like this, and for a moment, I thought that perhaps I had missed something in this new gaze. I knew, though, that it was my heart that was talking once more. This time, there was no sign of fear in his eyes, and above all, there was no sign that he lied; that he wanted me to come along after all. There was no doubt about it. Mr Frodo truly wanted me to go home.

It was then that I knew that someone had helped Mr Frodo come to his decision. Sure enough, when I looked over at that wretched creature who had been guiding us, he was grinning wickedly. Why did Mr Frodo never see that grin? The grin that betrayed his true intentions. I knew that it was Gollum who had turned Mr Frodo's heart against me, that he had filled my dear friend's mind with evil lies. Yet, if I hated Gollum, I hated the object he lusted after even more, for it was the Ring that was at the heart of all these lies. If Gollum was responsible for the manipulation of Mr Frodo's mind, then the Ring was responsible for Mr Frodo succumbing to that manipulation. Cursed Ring!

My mind began to pulsate with anger then. I knew that it was due to the Ring's treachery and that I should fight this rage, but I couldn't. I had helped Frodo so many times, whether it be a simple reassurance of hope in one of his darkest hours or a distraction from the lure of the Ring as the Ringwraiths passed, hoping that the keeper of the Ring would betray themselves. I had always been loyal to him, and yet now, Gollum was being trusted over me! Gollum! Who I had heard plotting our demise. Gollum was loyal only to himself and the Ring. Why was Frodo so blind! I would've done anything for him and now I was being told to go home! Now that I was facing my darkest hour, he was abandoning me! And to think, all those times I'd defended him. Just a few days ago, even, in front of Faramir. Though it was not my occupation, I could've told Faramir I was indeed Frodo's bodyguard and I wouldn't have been lying. So why didn't I? Because you are his gardener, Sam, a voice within me said. And with that realisation, all my anger was gone. Indeed, I was only Mr Frodo's gardener. Who was I to get angry? Who was I to argue with his decision?

It was at that moment that I finally conceded defeat. Mr Frodo and Gollum had already started the next part of the climb up the Stairs, but I could not begin my descent down them so quickly. Instead, I collapsed to the floor and began to cry. Not out of sadness or anger, not because of my situation, but out of fear. That same fear which had so often possessed Mr Frodo now plagued me. The simple truth was, I was scared for him, and my descent was slowed by my thoughts. Now that Gollum had Mr Frodo all to himself, there was nothing stopping the evil creature from committing murder. My heart became heavy. If Frodo was in trouble, who would help him if not me? Both the Ring and Gollum were treacherous. They would betray him to his death. And I knew I would never be able to live with myself if my friend died because I had allowed him to walk off with that monster. I would forever be responsible for abandoning him to death.

When I saw that lembas bread, I berated myself for not having already turned back. I had known Gollum was lying from the very beginning, and here was the proof. The physical proof. Gollum had betrayed himself now, and I knew Mr Frodo would never trust him again. But proof was not important anymore. Proof would mean nothing if I was too late to save Mr Frodo. For I knew, at that very moment, my friend was suffering the consequences of Gollum's evil. There was no doubt in my mind- Mr Frodo had already been betrayed.

As I began to run back up those Stairs, I knew that evil awaited me. I didn't know what sort of evil, and truth be told, I didn't really want to know, for it was likely I was headed to my doom. And yet, there was no other way. Though Mr Frodo had given me the chance of avoiding the danger I was approaching, I wouldn't go home. I couldn't go home. I didn't know the way.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I began this short little musing into how I imagine Sam must've felt in that heartbreaking moment Frodo tells him to go home way back in January. Then I forgot all about it, until yesterday, when I found my list of ideas for it. So I sat down and continued on from where I'd left off, and here you go! Hope you enjoyed :)

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