Wasn't sure if I would get this one today or not! But anyway, here it is...
As always, thanks so much to all of you who take the time to read my story and of course, special thanks to those who have taken the time to review. I truly appreciate your comments!
Dragonfly: Hope this explains why Sam has no immediate plans to return to Gondor!
Nymredil72: I don't think this one will leave you scared to death either! LOL! Glad you liked the last chapter!
Arwen Baggins: Yeah Uzelle, deserves everything she gets! I don't think she'll get away with this either!
FrodoBaggins87: Well, this chapter should tell you a little about what Frodo is up to as well as Sam! Two for one!
Szhismine: I doubt Aragorn will ever kill Uzelle, but I do believe he could make her life even more upleasant than he already has!
Lauralsjr: I'm not sure where the name "Olwyn" came from. I think I must have seen it somewhere. It seemed very fitting. Eldred just came to me. I was trying to think of names that had the same kind of sound of the Rohan names we did know.
Girlieblue: Thank you so much! I am always excited when I see someone new! I hope you continue to enjoy the story (for however long it runs). Thanks again!
Brownwyn: I always thought Sam seemed like the type that would like kids and sometimes it's easier to bond with them than adults!
Merry lad: Thanks! I am really glad you liked the chapter (and the story as a whole). I appreciate your wonderfully supportive comments!
Saiyan: Aren't kids great (well... most of the time)? I really thought Olwyn could help Sam move on.
Sam: You know, I added that last paragraph at the last minute. It really hadn't entered into my mind to use Olwyn to help Sam at first. I'm glad I decided to go with it!
Merimas Gamgee: Yes, I think it's time Sam got a grip on himself! He needs to learn he is his own person and this chapter is a start!
Althea: Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and comments! They are always so encouraging! I think Sam is going to see the world a bit better now. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!
Arwengreenleaf: Wow! I am so honored that you chose my story to be the first you ever reviewed! That is so cool! I really appreciate you taking the time and thanks so much for the kind remarks. The story has a ways to go yet, and I hope you'll stick with it! Thanks again!
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Chapter 12 Difficult Choices
Frodo sat hunched over on the divan in Lady Uzelle's chamber; Sam's cloak clutched tightly in his shaking hands. He was waiting with dread for the arrival of the Lady and her gardener informant, Martin. "He can't be dead," moaned Frodo to himself blinking away the tears. "Not by water! He hates water!"
He looked up as the door to the chamber opened and Lady Uzelle entered, a short, elderly man following hesitantly behind. Frodo stood, the cloak still clenched in his hands. The man's eyes fell on the cloak and he seemed to pale, then looked up into Frodo's red-rimmed eyes. Martin remained silent.
"Frodo," began Lady Uzelle quietly, "This is Martin. He has promised to tell you what he knows." She stepped aside and gently pushed the reluctant gardener forward.
"You, you knew Sam?" rasped Frodo, in a voice so unlike his own. He could barely get the words past the lump in his throat.
"Aye," replied Martin gruffly, "I knew 'im. He were a fine feller, for a halfling. Knew 'is flowers 'ee did. Him and me talked about gardens a time or two."
Frodo nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, gathering strength for the questions he must ask. "He came to your house?" asked Frodo, peering closely at the man, "The night of the ball?"
"Aye."
"What was he like?" whispered Frodo, clutching the cloak like a life line.
Martin glanced at Lady Uzelle standing behind Frodo. Her eyes narrowed warningly. He swallowed, then put his hand in his pocket as if to make sure his bag of gold was still there. Turning back to Frodo, he said, "Aye, he came to my 'ouse. In a right bad state he were. Cryin' an' all. But, he wouldn't tell me what was troublin' 'im. Not til I give 'im some o' my finest ale. He drank it down like he ain't had a drink in years! Drank two or three tankards, he did! Never seen the like. Then he opened up some." Martin paused here, looking apprehensively at Frodo who was staring so intently at the old gardener, Martin thought the hobbit must be able to see right through him. He licked his lips and continued. "All that ale loosened his tongue, if ye get my meanin'. Sam said ye didn't want 'im round no more. No one did. No one in the whole wide city, he said! Claimed that if his Mr. Frodo didn't want 'im, then there was no use in livin'." He had to stop; the devastated look in Frodo's eyes froze the false gardener's lying tongue. He wasn't a bad man, just greedy, and the grief his story was causing was not what he was expecting. Martin glanced again at Lady Uzelle, but the hard look in her eyes warned him not to deviate from the agreed story. He began to seriously doubt the wisdom of his actions.
"What happened next?" said Frodo, his eyes closed again as if he knew what was coming.
"Well," mumbled Martin uncomfortably, "After another mug or two o' ale, he passed out. I put 'im to bed in a corner. Next mornin' he was gone. I looked all round fer 'im til I saw his footprints. Nothin' easier to follow then halfling tracks, beggin' yer pardon, sir! Anyway, the dew was heavy that mornin' and I was able to follow the tracks all th' way to th' river. They, uh, I'm sorry sir, but the tracks led right into the river itself! The bank were mighty slippery and steep. No tracks came out. I walked a bit downriver, hopin' I'd see 'im, but all I found was that cloak." He nodded at the wad of fabric in Frodo's hands. Martin paused again, then said very quickly, " found it just past the rapids snagged on a tree. There was nothin' else. He was gone, sir."
Frodo said nothing. He now was staring at the cloak again as if it might somehow tell him what happened to Sam. Finally, he raised his head. "Thank, you Martin," he whispered. He slowly stood up, grabbing onto the sidetable for support. "I must go now and tell the others." Turning, his shoulders slumped with grief, the exhausted hobbit shuffled from the room. The boy waited outside and silently led Frodo away.
Martin stared after the hobbit, tears forming in his own eyes. He turned suddenly as he felt a fierce grip on his arm. Lady Uzelle was glaring threateningly at him. "Don't you dare change your story," she hissed quickly assessing the situation. "For all you know, Sam did jump into the river. No one has seen him in days. This will give Master Baggins and his friends some closure." She stopped a moment, then smiled cruelly, "Besides, if you go back on our bargain, I will destroy you. You wouldn't want your family out on the streets would you?"
Martin swallowed nervously and mutely shook his head. He must have been drunk to agree to help this woman, he thought ruefully. For all practical purposed, he had made a pact with the devil.
Frodo slowly opened the door to his chamber. He couldn't even remember the journey back from Lady Uzelle's house. It seemed as if his door just magically appeared before him. He pushed it open and stepped in, then stopped in surprise at the figure sitting before the fireplace. It was Gandalf.
The wizard stood up as the door opened and studied Frodo with concern. "Frodo?" he asked setting his pipe down. "Are you alright?" Frodo said nothing, just stared at the cloak in his hands, tears still glistening on his pale cheeks. He swayed and would have fallen had not Gandalf hurried over and steadied him. "Come, sit down." Gandalf commanded and settled Frodo onto a chair before the fire. "Tell me. What has happened!?"
It took Frodo a few moments to gather his thoughts. He felt so numb! Finally, he managed to get the entire tale out before breaking down again. Gandalf stood frozen, staring at the grieving hobbit. He frowned. Something just did not seem right about this entire story. Yes, given the length of time Sam had been missing, he did fear for the hobbit's life, but for Sam to have thrown himself in the river? That just didn't seem likely. It just went against everything he knew about hobbits. They simply didn't kill themselves like that! He turned again to Frodo. The poor hobbit had almost completely collapsed. He still hadn't completely recovered from his ordeal in Mordor and now for this to happen! The wizard sighed wearily, then gently laying his hand on Frodo's head, Gandalf quietly spoke a few words sending Frodo into a deep sleep. Gandalf carefully tucked Frodo into his bed, then without another word, swept from the room. He felt a burning need to speak with a certain lady and get to the bottom of this.
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It was a sunny morning and Sam sat outside near the back of Hertig's house. There were few trees in this broad grassy land, but Sam enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his face and the sweet smell of the open plains. Olwyn sat at his feet, playing with a small dog Sam had carved for her. She rarely left Sam's side as if she realized how beneficial her presence was to him. It was hard for him to feel sad with her sunny disposition around! Plus, he had much to think on.
He was feeling much stronger these days. It was almost two weeks since he had found himself face to face with Olwyn and as much as he enjoyed it here, he was beginning to feel an urgent need to continue on to the Shire. He was still having bad dreams, but they had changed. Although his nightmares about Mordor continued to plague him, interspersed with these were dreams about the Shire. He kept thinking of the fearsome images he had seen in Lady Galadriel's mirror and his concerns for his Gaffer were growing.
It was old Bertah who had finally broken through Sam's wall of depression. "Master Hobbit," the old woman said one day, settling herself beside Sam's bed. "We must talk." Sam stared at her in surprise. He had never spoken more than a few words to the elderly woman. She tended to keep to herself. Now, she was sitting beside him with a look of exasperation. The woman continued, her voice strong and no-nonsense, "I have spoken with Helveg about your problem with your master and I think it is time for you to move on."
Sam blinked. "I...I don't understand, Mistress Bertah," he stammered, trying to figure out what was going on here.
The woman sighed irritably and shook her head. "You say your master no longer wants you and has no use for you. Helveg says you overheard him say he wished you had not returned from the Dark Land. Now, you have run away instead of facing him and as a result have almost killed yourself! Might still do so if Helveg is right about you." Bertah stopped for a moment and studied the flustered hobbit. "Is that what you want, Master Gamgee? Is your life so worthless without your master that you should throw it away? I have heard the stories you tell the children about your home and your family and a certain lass by the name of Rosie. Do they also have no use for you? Would they rejoice in your death?"
Sam flushed and ducked his head. She was right, he knew. He was worried about his family and Rosie and his dreams seemed to be pushing his concerns about Frodo into the background. He kept seeing the images of falling trees, and his old gaffer slowly stumbling down the road with all his possessions heaped in a barrow, Bagshot row nothing but a pile of rubble. Frodo was safe in Minas Tirith, but his gaffer needed him now. Bertah nodded as she watched Sam's face. He would always mourn for his beloved master, but he was realizing that right now, there were others whose needs were greater than his own. He must go home and the sooner the better.
Sam's reverie was broken by the sound of boots. Turning quickly, Sam was surprised to see King Eomer turning the corner of the house, followed by Hertig. Sam started to struggle to his feet when Eomer put out a hand to stop him. "No, no, Master Gamgee!" he said hastily, "You need not stand for me! Please, keep your seat and I will join you." Hertig placed another bench near Sam's and Eomer sat across from the embarrassed hobbit.
Eomer smiled as his eyes looked over the thin hobbit before him. Sam was doing much better, but the signs of his recent illness were still quite apparent. "How do you feel, Samwise?" the king asked kindly.
"Oh, much better, my lord!" Sam quickly replied. "Mistress Helveg has taken splendid care of me and that's a fact!"
Eomer nodded glancing at Hertig. "Yes, she is a fine healer and I can see she has done well by you." He smiled again then grew serious. "Master Samwise," he began leaning forward, "I do not know how you came to be so far from Minas Tirith but I do know your friends there are most concerned for your welfare. I have delayed sending word to them until I was sure you would recover. Even when I knew you were out of danger, still I waited." He paused here and looked Sam squarely in the eye. "Sam, your friends were very upset when you disappeared. You cannot imagine Frodo's grief when no trace of you could be found." Sam looked down, flushing a deep red. He hadn't wanted to think about that. Eomer placed his hand on Sam's arm causing Sam to look up at him. "I delayed," continued the king, "For I hoped that instead of a message, I could send you, safe and sound."
Sam looked away again, tears burning his eyes. He felt great guilt now at leaving his friends, but he couldn't go back. He looked up at Eomer. "My lord," he said in a low voice, "I left the city on my own. I was foolish, I know. I'm not always thinking straight about things and something hurt me there in Minas Tirith and I left. Thinking about it now, it shouldn't have driven me away from my master, but it did. I've thought about it a lot and if that were the only thing, I would willingly go back in the blink of an eye, but..." here he paused. How to explain without sounding like an even bigger fool than he already felt? "But, I... I need to go home to the Shire. I know there's something wrong there and I'm worried about my old gaffer, uh, father. Mr. Frodo has lots o' folk to look out for him now and one day, he'll be home too and I can explain things to him then." He looked beseechingly into the eyes of king. "Please, sir, don't make me go back! I must get home to the Shire!"
Eomer studied him in silence, then sighed in resignation. "Alright, Master Gamgee. It goes against my better judgment, but I see you are determined in this. However, I will send an escort with you to insure your safety on the long road ahead. Gandalf would have my head if I allowed anything to happen to you."
"I will go with him," Hertig spoke up suddenly. Eomer and Sam turned to him in surprise. "Since it was Manelys and I that found him, I feel a responsibility to see him safely to his home."
Eomer turned again to Sam. "Is that acceptable to you, Samwise Gamgee?"
With tears burning the back of his throat at Hertig's generous offer, all Sam could do was nod. He would soon be on his way home.
As always, thanks so much to all of you who take the time to read my story and of course, special thanks to those who have taken the time to review. I truly appreciate your comments!
Dragonfly: Hope this explains why Sam has no immediate plans to return to Gondor!
Nymredil72: I don't think this one will leave you scared to death either! LOL! Glad you liked the last chapter!
Arwen Baggins: Yeah Uzelle, deserves everything she gets! I don't think she'll get away with this either!
FrodoBaggins87: Well, this chapter should tell you a little about what Frodo is up to as well as Sam! Two for one!
Szhismine: I doubt Aragorn will ever kill Uzelle, but I do believe he could make her life even more upleasant than he already has!
Lauralsjr: I'm not sure where the name "Olwyn" came from. I think I must have seen it somewhere. It seemed very fitting. Eldred just came to me. I was trying to think of names that had the same kind of sound of the Rohan names we did know.
Girlieblue: Thank you so much! I am always excited when I see someone new! I hope you continue to enjoy the story (for however long it runs). Thanks again!
Brownwyn: I always thought Sam seemed like the type that would like kids and sometimes it's easier to bond with them than adults!
Merry lad: Thanks! I am really glad you liked the chapter (and the story as a whole). I appreciate your wonderfully supportive comments!
Saiyan: Aren't kids great (well... most of the time)? I really thought Olwyn could help Sam move on.
Sam: You know, I added that last paragraph at the last minute. It really hadn't entered into my mind to use Olwyn to help Sam at first. I'm glad I decided to go with it!
Merimas Gamgee: Yes, I think it's time Sam got a grip on himself! He needs to learn he is his own person and this chapter is a start!
Althea: Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and comments! They are always so encouraging! I think Sam is going to see the world a bit better now. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!
Arwengreenleaf: Wow! I am so honored that you chose my story to be the first you ever reviewed! That is so cool! I really appreciate you taking the time and thanks so much for the kind remarks. The story has a ways to go yet, and I hope you'll stick with it! Thanks again!
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Chapter 12 Difficult Choices
Frodo sat hunched over on the divan in Lady Uzelle's chamber; Sam's cloak clutched tightly in his shaking hands. He was waiting with dread for the arrival of the Lady and her gardener informant, Martin. "He can't be dead," moaned Frodo to himself blinking away the tears. "Not by water! He hates water!"
He looked up as the door to the chamber opened and Lady Uzelle entered, a short, elderly man following hesitantly behind. Frodo stood, the cloak still clenched in his hands. The man's eyes fell on the cloak and he seemed to pale, then looked up into Frodo's red-rimmed eyes. Martin remained silent.
"Frodo," began Lady Uzelle quietly, "This is Martin. He has promised to tell you what he knows." She stepped aside and gently pushed the reluctant gardener forward.
"You, you knew Sam?" rasped Frodo, in a voice so unlike his own. He could barely get the words past the lump in his throat.
"Aye," replied Martin gruffly, "I knew 'im. He were a fine feller, for a halfling. Knew 'is flowers 'ee did. Him and me talked about gardens a time or two."
Frodo nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, gathering strength for the questions he must ask. "He came to your house?" asked Frodo, peering closely at the man, "The night of the ball?"
"Aye."
"What was he like?" whispered Frodo, clutching the cloak like a life line.
Martin glanced at Lady Uzelle standing behind Frodo. Her eyes narrowed warningly. He swallowed, then put his hand in his pocket as if to make sure his bag of gold was still there. Turning back to Frodo, he said, "Aye, he came to my 'ouse. In a right bad state he were. Cryin' an' all. But, he wouldn't tell me what was troublin' 'im. Not til I give 'im some o' my finest ale. He drank it down like he ain't had a drink in years! Drank two or three tankards, he did! Never seen the like. Then he opened up some." Martin paused here, looking apprehensively at Frodo who was staring so intently at the old gardener, Martin thought the hobbit must be able to see right through him. He licked his lips and continued. "All that ale loosened his tongue, if ye get my meanin'. Sam said ye didn't want 'im round no more. No one did. No one in the whole wide city, he said! Claimed that if his Mr. Frodo didn't want 'im, then there was no use in livin'." He had to stop; the devastated look in Frodo's eyes froze the false gardener's lying tongue. He wasn't a bad man, just greedy, and the grief his story was causing was not what he was expecting. Martin glanced again at Lady Uzelle, but the hard look in her eyes warned him not to deviate from the agreed story. He began to seriously doubt the wisdom of his actions.
"What happened next?" said Frodo, his eyes closed again as if he knew what was coming.
"Well," mumbled Martin uncomfortably, "After another mug or two o' ale, he passed out. I put 'im to bed in a corner. Next mornin' he was gone. I looked all round fer 'im til I saw his footprints. Nothin' easier to follow then halfling tracks, beggin' yer pardon, sir! Anyway, the dew was heavy that mornin' and I was able to follow the tracks all th' way to th' river. They, uh, I'm sorry sir, but the tracks led right into the river itself! The bank were mighty slippery and steep. No tracks came out. I walked a bit downriver, hopin' I'd see 'im, but all I found was that cloak." He nodded at the wad of fabric in Frodo's hands. Martin paused again, then said very quickly, " found it just past the rapids snagged on a tree. There was nothin' else. He was gone, sir."
Frodo said nothing. He now was staring at the cloak again as if it might somehow tell him what happened to Sam. Finally, he raised his head. "Thank, you Martin," he whispered. He slowly stood up, grabbing onto the sidetable for support. "I must go now and tell the others." Turning, his shoulders slumped with grief, the exhausted hobbit shuffled from the room. The boy waited outside and silently led Frodo away.
Martin stared after the hobbit, tears forming in his own eyes. He turned suddenly as he felt a fierce grip on his arm. Lady Uzelle was glaring threateningly at him. "Don't you dare change your story," she hissed quickly assessing the situation. "For all you know, Sam did jump into the river. No one has seen him in days. This will give Master Baggins and his friends some closure." She stopped a moment, then smiled cruelly, "Besides, if you go back on our bargain, I will destroy you. You wouldn't want your family out on the streets would you?"
Martin swallowed nervously and mutely shook his head. He must have been drunk to agree to help this woman, he thought ruefully. For all practical purposed, he had made a pact with the devil.
Frodo slowly opened the door to his chamber. He couldn't even remember the journey back from Lady Uzelle's house. It seemed as if his door just magically appeared before him. He pushed it open and stepped in, then stopped in surprise at the figure sitting before the fireplace. It was Gandalf.
The wizard stood up as the door opened and studied Frodo with concern. "Frodo?" he asked setting his pipe down. "Are you alright?" Frodo said nothing, just stared at the cloak in his hands, tears still glistening on his pale cheeks. He swayed and would have fallen had not Gandalf hurried over and steadied him. "Come, sit down." Gandalf commanded and settled Frodo onto a chair before the fire. "Tell me. What has happened!?"
It took Frodo a few moments to gather his thoughts. He felt so numb! Finally, he managed to get the entire tale out before breaking down again. Gandalf stood frozen, staring at the grieving hobbit. He frowned. Something just did not seem right about this entire story. Yes, given the length of time Sam had been missing, he did fear for the hobbit's life, but for Sam to have thrown himself in the river? That just didn't seem likely. It just went against everything he knew about hobbits. They simply didn't kill themselves like that! He turned again to Frodo. The poor hobbit had almost completely collapsed. He still hadn't completely recovered from his ordeal in Mordor and now for this to happen! The wizard sighed wearily, then gently laying his hand on Frodo's head, Gandalf quietly spoke a few words sending Frodo into a deep sleep. Gandalf carefully tucked Frodo into his bed, then without another word, swept from the room. He felt a burning need to speak with a certain lady and get to the bottom of this.
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It was a sunny morning and Sam sat outside near the back of Hertig's house. There were few trees in this broad grassy land, but Sam enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his face and the sweet smell of the open plains. Olwyn sat at his feet, playing with a small dog Sam had carved for her. She rarely left Sam's side as if she realized how beneficial her presence was to him. It was hard for him to feel sad with her sunny disposition around! Plus, he had much to think on.
He was feeling much stronger these days. It was almost two weeks since he had found himself face to face with Olwyn and as much as he enjoyed it here, he was beginning to feel an urgent need to continue on to the Shire. He was still having bad dreams, but they had changed. Although his nightmares about Mordor continued to plague him, interspersed with these were dreams about the Shire. He kept thinking of the fearsome images he had seen in Lady Galadriel's mirror and his concerns for his Gaffer were growing.
It was old Bertah who had finally broken through Sam's wall of depression. "Master Hobbit," the old woman said one day, settling herself beside Sam's bed. "We must talk." Sam stared at her in surprise. He had never spoken more than a few words to the elderly woman. She tended to keep to herself. Now, she was sitting beside him with a look of exasperation. The woman continued, her voice strong and no-nonsense, "I have spoken with Helveg about your problem with your master and I think it is time for you to move on."
Sam blinked. "I...I don't understand, Mistress Bertah," he stammered, trying to figure out what was going on here.
The woman sighed irritably and shook her head. "You say your master no longer wants you and has no use for you. Helveg says you overheard him say he wished you had not returned from the Dark Land. Now, you have run away instead of facing him and as a result have almost killed yourself! Might still do so if Helveg is right about you." Bertah stopped for a moment and studied the flustered hobbit. "Is that what you want, Master Gamgee? Is your life so worthless without your master that you should throw it away? I have heard the stories you tell the children about your home and your family and a certain lass by the name of Rosie. Do they also have no use for you? Would they rejoice in your death?"
Sam flushed and ducked his head. She was right, he knew. He was worried about his family and Rosie and his dreams seemed to be pushing his concerns about Frodo into the background. He kept seeing the images of falling trees, and his old gaffer slowly stumbling down the road with all his possessions heaped in a barrow, Bagshot row nothing but a pile of rubble. Frodo was safe in Minas Tirith, but his gaffer needed him now. Bertah nodded as she watched Sam's face. He would always mourn for his beloved master, but he was realizing that right now, there were others whose needs were greater than his own. He must go home and the sooner the better.
Sam's reverie was broken by the sound of boots. Turning quickly, Sam was surprised to see King Eomer turning the corner of the house, followed by Hertig. Sam started to struggle to his feet when Eomer put out a hand to stop him. "No, no, Master Gamgee!" he said hastily, "You need not stand for me! Please, keep your seat and I will join you." Hertig placed another bench near Sam's and Eomer sat across from the embarrassed hobbit.
Eomer smiled as his eyes looked over the thin hobbit before him. Sam was doing much better, but the signs of his recent illness were still quite apparent. "How do you feel, Samwise?" the king asked kindly.
"Oh, much better, my lord!" Sam quickly replied. "Mistress Helveg has taken splendid care of me and that's a fact!"
Eomer nodded glancing at Hertig. "Yes, she is a fine healer and I can see she has done well by you." He smiled again then grew serious. "Master Samwise," he began leaning forward, "I do not know how you came to be so far from Minas Tirith but I do know your friends there are most concerned for your welfare. I have delayed sending word to them until I was sure you would recover. Even when I knew you were out of danger, still I waited." He paused here and looked Sam squarely in the eye. "Sam, your friends were very upset when you disappeared. You cannot imagine Frodo's grief when no trace of you could be found." Sam looked down, flushing a deep red. He hadn't wanted to think about that. Eomer placed his hand on Sam's arm causing Sam to look up at him. "I delayed," continued the king, "For I hoped that instead of a message, I could send you, safe and sound."
Sam looked away again, tears burning his eyes. He felt great guilt now at leaving his friends, but he couldn't go back. He looked up at Eomer. "My lord," he said in a low voice, "I left the city on my own. I was foolish, I know. I'm not always thinking straight about things and something hurt me there in Minas Tirith and I left. Thinking about it now, it shouldn't have driven me away from my master, but it did. I've thought about it a lot and if that were the only thing, I would willingly go back in the blink of an eye, but..." here he paused. How to explain without sounding like an even bigger fool than he already felt? "But, I... I need to go home to the Shire. I know there's something wrong there and I'm worried about my old gaffer, uh, father. Mr. Frodo has lots o' folk to look out for him now and one day, he'll be home too and I can explain things to him then." He looked beseechingly into the eyes of king. "Please, sir, don't make me go back! I must get home to the Shire!"
Eomer studied him in silence, then sighed in resignation. "Alright, Master Gamgee. It goes against my better judgment, but I see you are determined in this. However, I will send an escort with you to insure your safety on the long road ahead. Gandalf would have my head if I allowed anything to happen to you."
"I will go with him," Hertig spoke up suddenly. Eomer and Sam turned to him in surprise. "Since it was Manelys and I that found him, I feel a responsibility to see him safely to his home."
Eomer turned again to Sam. "Is that acceptable to you, Samwise Gamgee?"
With tears burning the back of his throat at Hertig's generous offer, all Sam could do was nod. He would soon be on his way home.