Let me just thank all of my readers for staying along almost weekly for
this story. ^__^ There will be used excerpts from the trilogy since they
are best unchanged in my opinion, so some of the dialogue is not my own. I
think you'll be able to spot it out. The entire dialogue at a point is
Tolkien's because I didn't have the heart to change it, but I added in my
own insight so it wouldn't seem like straight copying from the book. ;)
Anyway this isn't my final goodbye or thanks, so I better be letting you read the chapter, huh?? I hate to cut it where it is, but this chapter would be very long if I let myself write and write...LOL
Happy Easter!
Chapter 19: The 2nd of November
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The Shire had changed in all but nearly a year. The unknown anniversary of Frodo Baggins's leave came and went and when everyone suspected conditioned couldn't worsen, they did. Soon from word in town, there was a rumor of a 'Sharkey' in the Shire. A tall, powerful thing with the strength to control the Shire, and a weak being shadowing behind him and listening to every word commanded. No one had actually seen the fellow up close (or at least they said they didn't), but the unknown is always feared.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
A yellow sun was rose early in the morning as it always does and when Rosie awoke, she stole a look out the kitchen window. Then after, she took her cloak by the door and walked out.
The snow was late for this time of year of November and a forewarning cold in the air bit in the sharp and sporadic winds. Rosie came forward to the shed where she had seen her father and brothers from inside. They held weapons in their hands as Farmer Cotton looked inside and swore.
"They must have in the night, the damned ruffians! They raided our shed of all its desirable goods!" He cried madly and appeared from the storehouse. He spotted Rosie and he shut his mouth. His face softened but his eyes were still harsh and angry.
"Rosie, dear, get yourself inside. It's not safe, it never is anymore," He ordered and Rosie nodded her head shortly. She took a quick look back at the shed. The stable seemed untouched surprisingly enough, but Cobfoot was restless in his stall and grunted loudly. Their family's shed was in a poor state, and the doors were swinging slightly on their hinges. They had been axed through and left was a gaping hole in the middle where they met at the lock.
She left for inside and she continued her morning working with her mother in the house. In Rosie's opinion, the house was uncomfortably clean. For months the house was all they ever tended to, since being outside was erased as an option. Its homey, warm sense of feeling had become into an impression of an untouched display.
Midday came and a familiar sound came to Rosie, a most heart-breaking one. She took her eyes off the fire she had been sitting by briefly and looked to the window. The crack of falling trees came again and Rosie saw the ruffians leaving the scene with their amount of wood. The extra trees they had destroyed stood or lay down pitifully, for they were left to die just as the Party Tree did. Rosie looked away and sat by the fire without the desire to think anymore of the matter.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
Mr. Cotton and his boys came in late after noon and ate the meal Mrs. Cotton and Rosie had left out for them. Afterwards, they spoke quietly and Rosie noticed a change in her brothers. They had matured considerably in the last few years. They had all come to age, Nick had just turned that very year and Nibs was close behind. But Rosie was not the only one who had taken notice of a change, for she didn't see her own change in herself.
Jolly finished his meal quickly even though he had seconds and stood to leave the table. Rosie had been cleaning the dishes in the kitchen and saw him leave. "Wilcome, don't leave your plate out for the flies. Bring it so I can clean it." She said sternly and Jolly brought his plate to the sink.
Nibs had left the table as well, making sure to give his plate to Rosie and found Jolly outside. There wasn't much of a view to enjoy anymore, but the pale sun gave little comfort. Nibs sat on the ledge of the porch barrier and Jolly had taken out his pipe. Nibs was surprised to see that Jolly still had a little weed left that the ruffians hadn't taken. The smell of the burning weed reminded them of late nights in the comforting bars. They were all closed these days.
Nibs studied his brother's face. His hair was still very light from the summer sun and his childhood freckles still spotted his face. The smoke rose in wisps under the shadows incase a ruffian passed by and noticed and Nibs spoke at last. "Everything has changed. Nothing is the same," Nibs said sadly and Jolly nodded.
"I feel sorry for the children born now. They will have to learn to live up fast. I feel as aged as old Dad and Rosie has grown bitter. Her voice shows it and she will not open up." He paused and said," Her heart left with Sam Gamgee when he died. I never thought she would live to be unwed." Jolly finished and he shook his head. They all pitied Rosie and her brothers watched over her even though she was older than them, except Tom.
Nibs took one more breath of the smoke until he walked back inside. He missed how things were before. He passed by Rosie in the kitchen and she had finished her cleaning. She still stood over the sink and stared out the window down the path. There was nothing.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
Later that day, an intense tension drew over Farmer Cotton. The assault of their shed had him stressed all day and he made sure he was ready for any action although he was privately scared of the lot of ruffians. He kept an axe by the door and Mrs. Cotton nagged at him all day for having him leave such a weapon in her house.
Rosie kept her eyes out on the shed and although it was perhaps not a good idea, she left for outside to check on Cobfoot.
The Shire was uneasy in its dead silence and Rosie walked to the stable. Cobfoot had been eating his oats and he came over. He brought his head to her and she stroked his speckled nose. He blinked softly as his way of thanks and went back to drink from his trough.
She came outside and continued to walk up the hill. She came to the crest of it and the dead grasses scratched her ankles. Her house waited behind her, wanting her to stay close but she stayed put on the hill. The other side of the hill seemed different and she couldn't put her mind on it to what it was. It seemed similar to the plains around Bywater and she walked cautiously down the slope. The grasses came well passed the hem of her dress and she knelt down.
A spot of yellow had been growing under all of it. She carefully plucked it. It was a dandelion she held, and in spite of the fact that it was a weed, Rosie realized it had been months since she had seen anything resembling a flower. Its delicate petals were soft under her thumbs as she felt it and tried to imagine the fields as they used to be. She couldn't see them changing anytime soon and it saddened her awfully. She stared at it for a long time.
And then suddenly, she left the flower by her feet and sprung up. Her heart pounded as a clean ringing of a horn sounded in the air. The shock of it kept her frozen but the vigorous sound of the horn made her want to run to it. She wasn't sure if it was of good or bad and soon, another blow was heard over the hills and rang for miles as the sun set rapidly. A loud voice shouted from down in the skirts of Bywater yelling:
Awake! Awake! Fear, Fire, Foes! Awake! Fire, Foes! Awake!
This yell startled her and the echo of the horn was heard no more. She ran down the hill towards her house from where she could see her brothers and fathers disappearing fast down the path. Alerted voices soon filled the air and the Shire looked as if it had awoken from a hazy sleep. The noise was confusing and she ran into the house.
No one was inside and she slammed the door loudly behind her. Instantly, the front door swung open and her mother grabbed her. "Child, where have you gone off to? This is not the time to become lost outside! Something is happening, and I fear it," She said and she brought them outside to the front of their house.
Nibs stood there with a pitchfork and Rosie sat down uneasily. The excitement of it all had disabled her to think straight and she had become flustered. His brother stayed close by her and did his duty of looking after the two. He had to keep in charge now that his elder brothers and father was away and soon his hands became numb from grasping the pitchfork so tightly.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
The horn finished ringing and the ears of the pony stayed alert for anymore calls. The path of Bywater was dusty and the setting sun turned the clouds pink and the shadows long. The twilight was disturbed with the commotion of voices and rushed noises and bright lights were lit.
The pony stopped and snorted of out frustration as four bodies blocked the way. The faces were all recognizable despite the oncoming dark and Farmer Tolman Cotton stood in front of his boys. He lowered his axe a little and said, "Nay! It's not one of them ruffians. It's a hobbit by the size of it, but all dressed up queer. Hey! Who are you, and what's all this to-do?" He asked with a harsh tone to his voice and the pony stepped forward a bit.
"It's Sam, Sam Gamgee. I've come back."
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
Hobbits ran down the path and Rosie would occasionally look up to see who passed by. Her mother stood by the door anxiously, worrying for her sons and husband's sake. Rosie stayed seated as she held her hands tightly. Her braid had become loose from her running and wisps of hair hung beside her face.
A dog barked not too far away and Nibs became alert and brought Rosie close to him. She looked out past the porch and saw a pony trot up closer to their house in the dusk. She held her breath and he gave her a comforting squeeze. Nibs stepped down the porch steps with his fork and the voice stopped Nibs from proceeding forward. The voice was soft, but bold, unlike the ruff Big Folk voice they expected. Rosie knew this enticing voice and her heart thumped loudly, for she never thought she would hear it again.
"It's me! Sam Gamgee! So don't try prodding me, Nibs. Anyway, I've a mail- shirt on me." He jumped off the pony and started up the steps of their porch as Nibs moved out of the way.
Sam took a good look around the Cotton's house. He had not seen it in what felt like a very long time and he could tell by Nibs's face that he was beyond any words to say. He could understand why, many had already told him they thought he was long gone.
Mrs. Cotton stood silently by the round door in her apron, just as he remembered her. He bowed his head down to her and said, "Good evening, Mrs. Cotton! Hullo, Rosie!"
The site of her, even in the dark, had given him such a feeling as if he had been pulled up from being underwater too long. He stopped midway on the steps and she walked towards him. He bowed his head as well to her out of courtesy and his chest swelled up from being by her once more. This was what it all added up to, to come home to her. The dim shone on her fair skin and her green eyes.
She stopped two steps before him. Rosie couldn't think of anything to say to him. He had been dead to her and she had spent so many nights missing him, missing him so much, that she hadn't prepared for this at all, and so she let her temper take the better of her as if it was his fault for everything. "Hullo, Sam. Where've you been? They said you were dead; but I've been expecting you since Spring. You haven't hurried, have you?" Her words were sad but with each one they became firm and sharp.
"Perhaps not," Sam said abashed at her tone and he seemed unsure of what to say to her next, "But I'm hurrying now. We're setting about the ruffians, and I've got to get back to Mr. Frodo. But I thought I'd have a look and see how Mrs. Cotton was keeping... and you, Rosie."
Her mother cut in and smiled at Sam. It was strange to see his face after all this time but she was proud of what he was doing. He seemed braver and all and her eyes blurred at the thought of him alive and well. "We're keeping nicely, thank you, or should be, if it weren't for these thieving ruffians."
Sam gave a somber grin and looked up at Rosie. If only he could forget what was happening with the Shire and stay with her! The silence was quickly broken. "Well, be off with you! If you've been looking after Mr. Frodo all this while, what d'you want to leave him for, as soon s things look dangerous?" She asked promptly and she looked down the road. More of their kin was gathering.
Sam stood there and Rosie saw his lips move in the golden light pouring through the windows, as he tried to plan out the right things to say. Oh, as much as she wanted him to stay, he had to go, he must...and he did. He nodded shortly to himself, as if making up his mind, turned on his heel on the steps and immediately hoisted himself on his pony. The pony took a few trots down the path and Sam turned as he thought he heard her footsteps.
She ran behind him and came to his side. She looked up to him with his golden plates and mail and a sweeping green cloak around his shoulders, and took his hand that held the reins.
"I think you look fine, Sam," She started and he put his hand on top of hers until she took it back and continued with a subtle face in which he could not tell if she was impatient or worrisome, "Go on now! But take care of yourself, and come straight back as soon as you have settled the ruffians!" He nodded and with a snap of the reins, he was galloping fast down towards the commotion.
Rosie stood there until she moved off the path to let other hobbits make their way to the village. It was brightly lit with lanterns in the dark of early night, and Rosie ran back to the house. She mother opened the door and said, "Come, lass, we must make our home as comfortable as possible for when your father and his band come back." She had said but Rosie had a better idea. Many hobbits that came down the road were empty-handed and if her kin were going to fight, then they would have a fair one against the Big Folk.
She ran past the broken doors of the shed and looked for anything the ruffians didn't take. She knew her father would understand this time; when it came to owning hoes and rakes and things of that sort, her father was known for buying them in bulk for each of her children. But the Shire was in trouble and if it took her a full year's pay to buy each one back, then she would.
She grabbed as many forks and shovels and hoes, and took them to the side of the road and for each hobbit that passed by without a weapon of some sort, she offered them one, persuading them that they would need one if they wanted to protect their home.
She remembered a promise she made to herself after Sam left, promising that she would do at least something to help while Sam was gone, and if this was it then she hoped it made some type of a difference.
After no one had come down the path for a time, Rosie took the extra shovels they still had and set them back in the shed. She stopped in front of a dusty window and fixed her hair. She was an awful mess in her opinion for Sam to see her and her hands shook as she tied her hair back. Sam was back, he was alive and she still couldn't believe it. He was never dead and now he had come back. She tried not to cry, like the months she had been trying not to, but the sheer bliss in the thought of him back and saving the Shire made her smile as the tears came down her face.
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Anyway this isn't my final goodbye or thanks, so I better be letting you read the chapter, huh?? I hate to cut it where it is, but this chapter would be very long if I let myself write and write...LOL
Happy Easter!
Chapter 19: The 2nd of November
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··· ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
The Shire had changed in all but nearly a year. The unknown anniversary of Frodo Baggins's leave came and went and when everyone suspected conditioned couldn't worsen, they did. Soon from word in town, there was a rumor of a 'Sharkey' in the Shire. A tall, powerful thing with the strength to control the Shire, and a weak being shadowing behind him and listening to every word commanded. No one had actually seen the fellow up close (or at least they said they didn't), but the unknown is always feared.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
A yellow sun was rose early in the morning as it always does and when Rosie awoke, she stole a look out the kitchen window. Then after, she took her cloak by the door and walked out.
The snow was late for this time of year of November and a forewarning cold in the air bit in the sharp and sporadic winds. Rosie came forward to the shed where she had seen her father and brothers from inside. They held weapons in their hands as Farmer Cotton looked inside and swore.
"They must have in the night, the damned ruffians! They raided our shed of all its desirable goods!" He cried madly and appeared from the storehouse. He spotted Rosie and he shut his mouth. His face softened but his eyes were still harsh and angry.
"Rosie, dear, get yourself inside. It's not safe, it never is anymore," He ordered and Rosie nodded her head shortly. She took a quick look back at the shed. The stable seemed untouched surprisingly enough, but Cobfoot was restless in his stall and grunted loudly. Their family's shed was in a poor state, and the doors were swinging slightly on their hinges. They had been axed through and left was a gaping hole in the middle where they met at the lock.
She left for inside and she continued her morning working with her mother in the house. In Rosie's opinion, the house was uncomfortably clean. For months the house was all they ever tended to, since being outside was erased as an option. Its homey, warm sense of feeling had become into an impression of an untouched display.
Midday came and a familiar sound came to Rosie, a most heart-breaking one. She took her eyes off the fire she had been sitting by briefly and looked to the window. The crack of falling trees came again and Rosie saw the ruffians leaving the scene with their amount of wood. The extra trees they had destroyed stood or lay down pitifully, for they were left to die just as the Party Tree did. Rosie looked away and sat by the fire without the desire to think anymore of the matter.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
Mr. Cotton and his boys came in late after noon and ate the meal Mrs. Cotton and Rosie had left out for them. Afterwards, they spoke quietly and Rosie noticed a change in her brothers. They had matured considerably in the last few years. They had all come to age, Nick had just turned that very year and Nibs was close behind. But Rosie was not the only one who had taken notice of a change, for she didn't see her own change in herself.
Jolly finished his meal quickly even though he had seconds and stood to leave the table. Rosie had been cleaning the dishes in the kitchen and saw him leave. "Wilcome, don't leave your plate out for the flies. Bring it so I can clean it." She said sternly and Jolly brought his plate to the sink.
Nibs had left the table as well, making sure to give his plate to Rosie and found Jolly outside. There wasn't much of a view to enjoy anymore, but the pale sun gave little comfort. Nibs sat on the ledge of the porch barrier and Jolly had taken out his pipe. Nibs was surprised to see that Jolly still had a little weed left that the ruffians hadn't taken. The smell of the burning weed reminded them of late nights in the comforting bars. They were all closed these days.
Nibs studied his brother's face. His hair was still very light from the summer sun and his childhood freckles still spotted his face. The smoke rose in wisps under the shadows incase a ruffian passed by and noticed and Nibs spoke at last. "Everything has changed. Nothing is the same," Nibs said sadly and Jolly nodded.
"I feel sorry for the children born now. They will have to learn to live up fast. I feel as aged as old Dad and Rosie has grown bitter. Her voice shows it and she will not open up." He paused and said," Her heart left with Sam Gamgee when he died. I never thought she would live to be unwed." Jolly finished and he shook his head. They all pitied Rosie and her brothers watched over her even though she was older than them, except Tom.
Nibs took one more breath of the smoke until he walked back inside. He missed how things were before. He passed by Rosie in the kitchen and she had finished her cleaning. She still stood over the sink and stared out the window down the path. There was nothing.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
Later that day, an intense tension drew over Farmer Cotton. The assault of their shed had him stressed all day and he made sure he was ready for any action although he was privately scared of the lot of ruffians. He kept an axe by the door and Mrs. Cotton nagged at him all day for having him leave such a weapon in her house.
Rosie kept her eyes out on the shed and although it was perhaps not a good idea, she left for outside to check on Cobfoot.
The Shire was uneasy in its dead silence and Rosie walked to the stable. Cobfoot had been eating his oats and he came over. He brought his head to her and she stroked his speckled nose. He blinked softly as his way of thanks and went back to drink from his trough.
She came outside and continued to walk up the hill. She came to the crest of it and the dead grasses scratched her ankles. Her house waited behind her, wanting her to stay close but she stayed put on the hill. The other side of the hill seemed different and she couldn't put her mind on it to what it was. It seemed similar to the plains around Bywater and she walked cautiously down the slope. The grasses came well passed the hem of her dress and she knelt down.
A spot of yellow had been growing under all of it. She carefully plucked it. It was a dandelion she held, and in spite of the fact that it was a weed, Rosie realized it had been months since she had seen anything resembling a flower. Its delicate petals were soft under her thumbs as she felt it and tried to imagine the fields as they used to be. She couldn't see them changing anytime soon and it saddened her awfully. She stared at it for a long time.
And then suddenly, she left the flower by her feet and sprung up. Her heart pounded as a clean ringing of a horn sounded in the air. The shock of it kept her frozen but the vigorous sound of the horn made her want to run to it. She wasn't sure if it was of good or bad and soon, another blow was heard over the hills and rang for miles as the sun set rapidly. A loud voice shouted from down in the skirts of Bywater yelling:
Awake! Awake! Fear, Fire, Foes! Awake! Fire, Foes! Awake!
This yell startled her and the echo of the horn was heard no more. She ran down the hill towards her house from where she could see her brothers and fathers disappearing fast down the path. Alerted voices soon filled the air and the Shire looked as if it had awoken from a hazy sleep. The noise was confusing and she ran into the house.
No one was inside and she slammed the door loudly behind her. Instantly, the front door swung open and her mother grabbed her. "Child, where have you gone off to? This is not the time to become lost outside! Something is happening, and I fear it," She said and she brought them outside to the front of their house.
Nibs stood there with a pitchfork and Rosie sat down uneasily. The excitement of it all had disabled her to think straight and she had become flustered. His brother stayed close by her and did his duty of looking after the two. He had to keep in charge now that his elder brothers and father was away and soon his hands became numb from grasping the pitchfork so tightly.
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
The horn finished ringing and the ears of the pony stayed alert for anymore calls. The path of Bywater was dusty and the setting sun turned the clouds pink and the shadows long. The twilight was disturbed with the commotion of voices and rushed noises and bright lights were lit.
The pony stopped and snorted of out frustration as four bodies blocked the way. The faces were all recognizable despite the oncoming dark and Farmer Tolman Cotton stood in front of his boys. He lowered his axe a little and said, "Nay! It's not one of them ruffians. It's a hobbit by the size of it, but all dressed up queer. Hey! Who are you, and what's all this to-do?" He asked with a harsh tone to his voice and the pony stepped forward a bit.
"It's Sam, Sam Gamgee. I've come back."
~·· ··÷¦÷·· ··~
Hobbits ran down the path and Rosie would occasionally look up to see who passed by. Her mother stood by the door anxiously, worrying for her sons and husband's sake. Rosie stayed seated as she held her hands tightly. Her braid had become loose from her running and wisps of hair hung beside her face.
A dog barked not too far away and Nibs became alert and brought Rosie close to him. She looked out past the porch and saw a pony trot up closer to their house in the dusk. She held her breath and he gave her a comforting squeeze. Nibs stepped down the porch steps with his fork and the voice stopped Nibs from proceeding forward. The voice was soft, but bold, unlike the ruff Big Folk voice they expected. Rosie knew this enticing voice and her heart thumped loudly, for she never thought she would hear it again.
"It's me! Sam Gamgee! So don't try prodding me, Nibs. Anyway, I've a mail- shirt on me." He jumped off the pony and started up the steps of their porch as Nibs moved out of the way.
Sam took a good look around the Cotton's house. He had not seen it in what felt like a very long time and he could tell by Nibs's face that he was beyond any words to say. He could understand why, many had already told him they thought he was long gone.
Mrs. Cotton stood silently by the round door in her apron, just as he remembered her. He bowed his head down to her and said, "Good evening, Mrs. Cotton! Hullo, Rosie!"
The site of her, even in the dark, had given him such a feeling as if he had been pulled up from being underwater too long. He stopped midway on the steps and she walked towards him. He bowed his head as well to her out of courtesy and his chest swelled up from being by her once more. This was what it all added up to, to come home to her. The dim shone on her fair skin and her green eyes.
She stopped two steps before him. Rosie couldn't think of anything to say to him. He had been dead to her and she had spent so many nights missing him, missing him so much, that she hadn't prepared for this at all, and so she let her temper take the better of her as if it was his fault for everything. "Hullo, Sam. Where've you been? They said you were dead; but I've been expecting you since Spring. You haven't hurried, have you?" Her words were sad but with each one they became firm and sharp.
"Perhaps not," Sam said abashed at her tone and he seemed unsure of what to say to her next, "But I'm hurrying now. We're setting about the ruffians, and I've got to get back to Mr. Frodo. But I thought I'd have a look and see how Mrs. Cotton was keeping... and you, Rosie."
Her mother cut in and smiled at Sam. It was strange to see his face after all this time but she was proud of what he was doing. He seemed braver and all and her eyes blurred at the thought of him alive and well. "We're keeping nicely, thank you, or should be, if it weren't for these thieving ruffians."
Sam gave a somber grin and looked up at Rosie. If only he could forget what was happening with the Shire and stay with her! The silence was quickly broken. "Well, be off with you! If you've been looking after Mr. Frodo all this while, what d'you want to leave him for, as soon s things look dangerous?" She asked promptly and she looked down the road. More of their kin was gathering.
Sam stood there and Rosie saw his lips move in the golden light pouring through the windows, as he tried to plan out the right things to say. Oh, as much as she wanted him to stay, he had to go, he must...and he did. He nodded shortly to himself, as if making up his mind, turned on his heel on the steps and immediately hoisted himself on his pony. The pony took a few trots down the path and Sam turned as he thought he heard her footsteps.
She ran behind him and came to his side. She looked up to him with his golden plates and mail and a sweeping green cloak around his shoulders, and took his hand that held the reins.
"I think you look fine, Sam," She started and he put his hand on top of hers until she took it back and continued with a subtle face in which he could not tell if she was impatient or worrisome, "Go on now! But take care of yourself, and come straight back as soon as you have settled the ruffians!" He nodded and with a snap of the reins, he was galloping fast down towards the commotion.
Rosie stood there until she moved off the path to let other hobbits make their way to the village. It was brightly lit with lanterns in the dark of early night, and Rosie ran back to the house. She mother opened the door and said, "Come, lass, we must make our home as comfortable as possible for when your father and his band come back." She had said but Rosie had a better idea. Many hobbits that came down the road were empty-handed and if her kin were going to fight, then they would have a fair one against the Big Folk.
She ran past the broken doors of the shed and looked for anything the ruffians didn't take. She knew her father would understand this time; when it came to owning hoes and rakes and things of that sort, her father was known for buying them in bulk for each of her children. But the Shire was in trouble and if it took her a full year's pay to buy each one back, then she would.
She grabbed as many forks and shovels and hoes, and took them to the side of the road and for each hobbit that passed by without a weapon of some sort, she offered them one, persuading them that they would need one if they wanted to protect their home.
She remembered a promise she made to herself after Sam left, promising that she would do at least something to help while Sam was gone, and if this was it then she hoped it made some type of a difference.
After no one had come down the path for a time, Rosie took the extra shovels they still had and set them back in the shed. She stopped in front of a dusty window and fixed her hair. She was an awful mess in her opinion for Sam to see her and her hands shook as she tied her hair back. Sam was back, he was alive and she still couldn't believe it. He was never dead and now he had come back. She tried not to cry, like the months she had been trying not to, but the sheer bliss in the thought of him back and saving the Shire made her smile as the tears came down her face.
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