Ok, you guys have been waiting forever and I know it, too. It's time for me to stop trying to write a "plot" (whatever that is) and hurry up with the slash.

Thanks, as always, to the reviewers Eregriel Gloswen, Julia, and mewsette.

Disclaimer is the same as always.

Finally, some original dialogue...

Chapter 7: Ithilien

As the sun rose, the soft light streaming through the window lighted upon Frodo's body and crawled up it, inch by inch. It reached his crippled hand where it stole up the fingers and then his arm, then coming to his neck, and finally his face. As the light slid down the bridge of his nose and finally came upon his closed eyes, he stirred.

At first he saw nothing but the red glow of the back of his eyelids, and then he opened his eyes to take in the remarkable sight in front of him. His vision grew sharper as his senses reactivated, and even through the haze of sleep he could see a few things: the edge of the bed he was in, a large window, a door dark against the white wall

As his eyes focused he began to see the room he was in in greater detail. It was not a small room, but it did not seem large either, and the ceiling was very high and smooth. There were large windows, out of which he could see the sun and trees and everything was very still. The room was bright and warm, but mostly it gave Frodo a great sense of calm, spreading from deep inside him until it reached his feet and hands and every part of him relaxed, and he smiled.

He looked over to his side and saw Sam, and as soon as he did the great calm was gone from him and in its place he felt nothing but fluttering happiness: he was there, Sam was there, they were both safe and, more importantly, alive. He couldn't remember muchÐwhat was the last thing he could recall? FireÐa great deal of fire. A great shaking of the earth, a crowd of buildings falling down. How had they survived?

Perhaps he should wait for Sam to wake up, he thought. Maybe he would know more. Maybe he could remember...

But he was feeling tired again, and his hand hurt. His hand... as he drifted off he vaguely remembered Gollum, and his sharp teeth, and a hand on his arm

Frodo awoke again, and by the intensity of the sunlight he could tell it was quite late in the morning. He looked around the room againÉit was still very bright and white, but the air of stillness had gone. He realized suddenly that this was because the room was no longer still; two figures were moving to his side.

He turned, and as he did he heard the sound of someone crying. It was quiet and had started quite suddenly. Frodo looked to the side and saw two bodies: one sitting up in a bed and one standing very tall. Frodo could see that the one who was in the bed was the one he had heard crying, but as he watched, the figure started to smile and laugh, and Frodo wondered whether he had ever been crying at all. The hobbit in the bed (for that was what he was, a hobbit) started to talk to the standing figure.

"How do I feel? Well, I don't know how to say it. I feel, I feel" At this point he waved his hands in the air, as if trying to express his feelings through the motions of his arms. "I feel like spring after winter, and sun on leaves; and like trumpets and harps and all the songs I have ever heard!" He cried out with joy, and then his face grew solemn. "But how's Mr. Frodo? Isn't it a shame about his poor hand? But I hope he's all right otherwise. He's had a cruel time."

Frodo had recognized the speaker as soon as he spoke, and of course, who else would it be? Sam, who he had died with, or apparently not died with at all. How had they been saved?

"Yes, I am all right otherwise," Frodo said finally. "I fell asleep waiting for you, Sam, you sleepyhead. I was awake this morning, and now it must be nearly noon."

"Noon?" Sam repeated. "Noon of what day?"

Then the tall figure began to speak, and Frodo looked up at him. He was taken aback at the radiant quality of the figure's robes, and the bright light coming from them dazzled him for a moment. As the feeling passed, he got a good look at the tall figure's face.

It was Gandalf. Frodo gasped and immediately began to cry, silently, just for a few seconds as he got over the initial shock of seeing his old friend, back from thefrom the dead? he thought. It was impossible...all of a sudden he wonderedÐhad he been there when he had woken up this morning? Could he have missed him like that?

Gandalf had been talking to Sam, but Frodo had not heard what either had said as he stared, seemingly mesmerized, up at Gandalf's face. He refocused and started to hear what Gandalf was saying.

"Even the orc-rags that you bore in the black land, Frodo, shall be preserved. No silks or linens, nor any armor or heraldry could be more honorable. But later I will find some other clothes, perhaps."

Frodo watched with growing amazement as Gandalf held out his hands, and he could see that in one something was glowing very brightly, almost too bright to look at directly.

"What have you got there?" he asked. "Can it beÐ?"

"Yes, I have brought your two treasures. They were found on Sam when you were rescued. The Lady Galadnil's gifts; your glass, Frodo, and your box, Sam. You will be glad to have them safe again."

Gandalf had left to find them clothes and a place to bathe and dress, and perhaps some food. Frodo and Sam were silent, each sitting up in their separate beds.

Frodo looked out the window. He thought he could hear birds singing outside, and he wondered how long it had been since he had last heard that sound. The feeling of complete relaxation was begining to come over him again now that Gandalf had left and the room was stillÉhe closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet, clean scent of Ithilien.

Then he opened his eyes and turned to Sam. Sam was looking right back at him, and Frodo discovered that it did not bother him at all. He smiled.

Sam looked down at Frodo's crippled hand. "How's your finger?" he asked, and then quickly added, "Or, your lack of a finger, at that."

"It's fine, Sam," Frodo replied, and was surprised to find that it was the truth. "Really, it feels all right" He waved his hand around as if to prove his point.

"They must have given you some Elvish medicine," Sam reasoned. "They work miracles, the Elves do. I've often wondered how they do itÉthey have so many secrets..." Sam trailed off and seemed to be lost in nostalgia.

Frodo watched him for a minute, giving him his chance to remember. Then he broke in.

"You miss them, don't you, Sam? Galadriel, and the rest of them?"

Sam thought a moment, but only a moment, and then looked back at Frodo. "I miss them, yes. That forest was everything I'd ever dreamed of seeing when I set out on this quest. But still, after all is said and done" he paused, then continued. "I mean, I wouldn't have stayed with them, of course. I'd rather haveÉhave been with you. Even through it all, everything that happened...I'd rather be with you."

Frodo smiled at this heartfelt, if bumbling, statement. Sam looked distracted now, staring down at the quilt with his hands on his knees. Or did he look embarrassed?

"I'd rather be with you too, Sam," Frodo said. "Than all the Elves in the world."

Sam looked up at him and smiled brightly. "All the Elves in the world, Mr. Frodo? That must be a great many," he said happily. "Are you sure?"

Frodo felt that this question was deeper than it seemed to be. But he was sure; he would rather be with Sam than anyone in the world. Because Sam wasn't just Sam; Sam was a part of him. Sam was his friend, Sam was his home. He represented everything good Frodo had ever known. Friendship. Success. Trust. Love.

Love. It made sense, that Sam should represent love, because Sam was love, in every way Frodo had ever felt it. Sam loved everything; he loved life, he loved the world itself. It made sense, then, that Frodo should love Sam, and he did. But he did not only love Sam, he realized as he looked at his smiling face and eyes that offered everything to him, if only he would take it.

He was in love with Sam? He was in love with Sam. Frodo said it slowly to himself, I am in love with Sam, and it sounded perfectly right. I am in love with Sam, he thought again, and this time it sent a warm thrill from his heart to all parts of his body, and he remembered all those other times he had felt the same way

He wondered how he had not thought it before, but he thought it now, and he was sure. "I'm sure," he said.

Sam looked at him, and he was still smiling.

It was a risk, Frodo thought. He loved Sam, he knew it, and he wanted it. There could only be one thing left to do, he thought.

But he did not think he could do it. Sam's smile was so genuine, so happy; this was the happiest he had seen him since they left the Shire. He looked so beautiful, sitting there against the white of the room and the sounds of of the birds of Ithilien. And if Sam was not in love with himÉFrodo did not have the heart to break that.

Frodo opened his mouth to speak to Sam, although he was not sure what he was about to say, when Gandalf walked into the room.

"Your clothes," he said, "You will wear these this afternoon. Come with me, you will have baths, both of you."

Frodo closed his mouth and stood, and Sam stood too, and Frodo looked away.

Hey, it was like there was almost slash, but then there wasn't. Ha ha! Next chapter: Will Frodo get over his growing fear, or will it just grow some more and torture you all to death? Muahaha. Ok, I might even get out the next chapter in a week. Yes, I know I am a crap updater. Bear with me.

PS I hope I have not dissapointed you too much. You know if you ever have constructive criticism, you can email me or leave it in a comment.