Author's Note: As always, thanks for the wonderful reviews and support! Might not get the next update up as quickly as the last two, but shouldn't be too long!
FrodoBaggins87: We should be visiting our other friends in one of the next few chapters. I'm still deciding how I want to do that.
Lauralsjr: I know Sam was in a bad way in Minas Tirith, but I felt that as he needed to depend more on himself and less on Frodo, he would become stronger, especially once he was back in the Shire. He is still desperately sad over his supposed rejection by Frodo, but now he has other things and people to occupy his mind so he can't spend so much time brooding! I always felt Sam was a very resilient character.
Hobbity: Thank you so much for the great review! I hope your heart isn't too "smathered"! I haven't looked up your stories yet, but I plan to. I'm always in the market for good angsty Sam stories!
Sam: I really do feel Sam is coming into his own now. He has other people to think about (Hertig, his gaffer, Rosie, the Cottons) and needs to be strong for them.
Bronwyn: Sam somehow always manages to find help when he needs it, although in this chapter, he provides some timely assistance!
Gamgeefest: At one point, I had the time all carefully worked out, but I must confess, I have grown somewhat lax! In my mind, it is early summer and if I recall, Saruman shows up in September and as you said, the others around the end of October. I don't think I will do a day by day description though! The story isn't going to be THAT long! LOL! As for Jolly, I figured he spotted Sam one day while going about some business and waited for the opportune moment to approach him.
Althea: Although not in this chapter, we will be looking into what's going on with some of the others in the near future. I really haven't decided whether or not to bring Frodo and the others home earlier than they are supposed to arrive. After all, they assume Sam is safe and sound in the Shire. Even if Frodo is eager to clear things up with him, I'm still not sure that will bring him home significantly earlier (seems like if they came home early, then they might miss Saruman and he wouldn't come to the Shire and it would create a whole chain reaction that would fundamentally change the last part of Tolkien's story. I often think of my stories as side trips that don't necessarily change the outcome of the original story.)
Sam lay in the shack again, nursing his wounds. "If that Pimple wants his gardens done," grumbled Sam to himself trying to find some position that didn't cause him pain, "Then he'd better tell that villain, Fig, to lay off of me!" It was useless. Many of the welts had broken the skin and whenever he moved, they would start bleeding again. He was covered with bruises and ached all over. Plus, he was weak from hunger. The small amount of bread Jolly had given him earlier certainly didn't go far. Sam laid his head on his knees fighting back tears of anger and frustration. He thought of Mr. Frodo and how appalled he would be to find the Shire in such ruins. "Ah, Mister Frodo," he sighed, "We thought we'd fought our battles and comin' home would be an end to all the unhappiness. How wrong we were! If only I could get word to you somehow. Maybe you could bring help and throw these ruffians out!" He dozed a little then, but his dreams were full of whips and curses mixed with Frodo smiling at him one moment and ordering him to leave the next. Abruptly, he started awake, his heart pounding. It took him a moment to realize what had woken in. It was a soft voice calling his name. Blinking in the darkness, Sam peered around until he could just make out the ghostly image of a hand waving to him through a gap between the boards. Sam crawled closer. "Who's there?" he whispered, "Jolly?"
"Aye! It's me, Sam," came the urgent reply. "We brought ye some food!" The hand disappeared and several thin packages were pushed through the narrow opening. Sam groped for them in the dark, quickly clutching the precious parcels to his chest. He was reaching for the last one, when another soft voice called to him.
"Sam? Can you hear me? It's me, Rosie!" Sam froze for just a moment, then felt the blood rushing to his face. He had often thought of her sweet voice and lovely face on his long journey. He had hoped to speak to Rosie's father upon their return, but this was certainly not the reunion he had imagined.
"Rosie?" he replied crawling closer to the opening. He could just make out her pale face hovering nearby. "You shouldn't be here, Rosie!" he cried urgently. "Fig is out front and if he should catch you...." He trailed off. He couldn't bear the thought of Rosie being struck by that wretch's whip or worse yet, hanging from a tree.
"Don't worry, Sam!" she whispered back, "We'll be careful. But we'll be burned if we'll let them starve you to death! Jolly told us what the Chief said about putting your dad into the lockholes. We're goin' to figure out someway to get him to safety so we can rescue you! Don't lose heart!" With those last quiet words, Jolly and Rosie were gone.
Sam sat back and leaned cautiously leaned against the wall of the shed. He wiped away his tears as he thought about his friends, risking themselves to bring him food. He smiled as he considered Rosie's bravery. Yes, she was quite a girl alright!
Day after dreary day Sam slaved away in the gardens. He might have resigned himself to his duties if they had left him peace, but Fig delighted in tormenting Sam. He frequently beat him for the slightest infraction. Many times he claimed Sam's work had been done poorly or incorrectly and he made Sam pull out all the plants he had worked so hard to get started and begin all over again. Nothing he did was right and Sam seethed with resentment. The only thing that kept him going were the nighttime visits by Rosie and one or another of her brothers. Fig frequently drank himself into a stupor during the long, dull evenings and that provided the perfect opportunity for the Cottons to bring food to him. If it hadn't been for that, the meager rations provided by Lotho would have been barely enough to keep Sam alive. As it was, he was thinner than ever and exhausted in both body and soul.
Sam worried constantly. He had only been able to catch occasional glimpses of his gaffer. Fig made sure to keep them apart. The old hobbit didn't look well to Sam. He also worried about Rosie and the Cottons getting in trouble for helping him, but he knew he couldn't survive without them. And where was Hertig? Jolly said they had not heard anything about the Rider and it was difficult at best to get any news from outside Hobbiton. He could be dead for all Sam knew. Then of course, he worried about Frodo. He constantly wondered what he was doing and was he happier now that Sam was gone. Sam still carried that pain in his heart. He felt very much alone.
Things might have gone on like that indefinitely if not for one fateful afternoon. Sam was trying to clear the rubble Lotho had had dumped into one end of the garden and it was exhausting work. Sam piled large jagged stones and old pieces of the wood into his barrow and wheeled them down to where Bagshot Row had been. It was now being used as a gravel quarry but Sam felt it worked just as well as a dump. Time and time again he made the grueling journey up and down the hill.
He was on his way back from his latest trip when he was startled by a scream. Looking up towards Bag End, he saw Fig and Ted Sandyman the miller standing by some of the sheds farthest from Bag End. It was obvious that they were confronting someone, but Sam's view was blocked by the two figures. Sam heard the scream again followed by the cruel laughter of the men. With a flash of horror, Sam realized it was Rosie's desperate cries he'd heard! Without a thought, he dropped the barrow and started sprinting up the hill to where the two had cornered the girl against the wall of one of the sheds.
"Come on, Rosie," Ted said, a lecherous tone in his wheedling voice, "Give us a kiss!" He lurched forward trying to grab hold of Rosie. The girl quickly sidled away.
"Leave me be, Ted Sandyman!" Rosie cried, trying to push her way past the two bullies, but Fig grabbed her arms and held her tight.
"Have at 'er, Ted me lad," he leered drunkenly, "She's a right pretty little morsel. Might try 'er meself when you're done with her!" Rosie screamed again as the men moved to pull her into the shack.
"NO!" roared Sam furiously, his shovel now in his hand. Ted wheeled around just in time to see Sam swing the shovel with all his strength into Fig's back. With a howl of pain and surprise, the man lost his hold Rosie and stumbled to his knees. With another cry of rage, Sam slammed the shovel onto Fig's head, dropping him like a stone. Twice more Sam struck the man until Rosie screamed at him to stop. Panting, Sam stood dripping sweat, his eyes still wild.
"You've killed him!" gasped Ted in shock staring at the bloody figure sprawled on the ground before him. "You've killed him right enough, Samwise Gamgee! The Chief'll 'ave your head for this!" Sam turned towards Ted and with a menacing growl began advancing on the miller. With a yelp of fear, Ted turned and scurried from the shed to raise the alarm.
"Sam!" cried Rosie desperately grabbing onto his arm, "You must get out of here right away! They'll hang you for this! Fig was one of Pimple's favorites!"
Sam now just stood there staring dumbly at the body at his feet. How could he have done such a thing? He'd killed a man! Dimly, he became aware of Rosie tugging on his arm. He blinked and with growing alarm realized the enormity of what he had done. This would certainly mean his death and possibly his gaffer's as well!
"Come ON, Sam!" Rosie cried again pulling harder.
This time Sam turned to face her, grabbing onto her soft hands. "Rosie, please don't let them hurt my gaffer!" he pleaded urgently. "I've got to go, but please, don't let them hurt him!"
"I won't, Sam," she sobbed. "We'll look after him for you!" Sam smiled his thanks, stared at her for a moment more then pulled her to him and kissed her. An instant later, he was gone. Rosie stared after him for just a few seconds, then ran off herself, knowing they must quickly hide Hamfast Gamgee before the Chief's men got to him.
Sam ran as fast as he could, panic lending speed to his weary feet. He still couldn't believe he had actually killed Fig, although there was no doubt in his mind that the scum deserved it. How dare he and that despicable Ted Sandyman lay a hand on Rosie! But now, he was in serious trouble. Where could he go? If any of the Chief's men or the Shirriffs caught him, he would be hung without a doubt. Sam was certain that killing one of the ruffians was not a crime to be punished lightly.
He headed north. His first thought had been to try for Tookland, but he had heard Fig and the other men talking about the troubles the Tooks had caused and now a large number of men surrounded the Thain's land. Sam would be safe in the Green Hill country, but the chances of making it there alive were slim. He wanted to try for Michel Delving at some point to look for Hertig, but for the moment, he just needed to get himself out of harm's way. He fervently hoped that his gaffer and the Cottons would be alright. He couldn't bear to be the cause of anymore suffering. It was obvious that Sam had now jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.