Sam awoke as he often did, groggy and stiff and wondering just where he
was. He let out a shriek as he would sometimes do when the room was filled
with darkness and Envin would be at his side convincing him that this was
not Mordor. This time it had indeed grown worse as Sam shook and trembled
Envin was trying to hold him still and whisper some words of encouragement
to him when Sam thrust out an arm and elbowed him in the face. Envin went
reeling and Sam slowly quieted realizing what he had done.
"Oh! Envin! I'm sorry!" he cried as Envin slunk to the ground holding his head in his hands.
"Quite alright, sir!" said Envin as he struggled to his feet. "No need to get up. I'm fine, it was an accident."
"Oh Envin," Sam untangled his limbs from the sheets and came to the healer's side, "It was awful of me to do that. You look like you're gonna get a nice mark for it too."
Envin patted his eye and winced. "It should turn a lovely shade of purple," he smiled blearily.
"Oh Envin I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" cried Sam who, at that moment, burst into tears and buried his face in his hands. Envin tried to hide his shock at the hobbit's reaction to such a silly thing, but knowing, as a good healer should, that Sam's emotional state was far beyond fragile now, he just offered the hobbit some comfort.
"Now Master Samwise, it doesn't even hurt any more, and it wasn't your fault. I understand what you are going through and I-"
"How could you understand!?" Sam snapped, "What would you know about it at all!?" Still knowing that this was the trauma talking Envin took every one of Sam's harsh blows with a calm serenity. "You don't know what it was like out there! No food, no water!" Sam calmed his breath coming in ragged heaves as the fire died in his eyes.
"I gave it all to him," Sam's voice was barely above a whisper now and Envin listened closely. "All that water until I had almost gone mad. I don't know how many days I went without it, I don't think I knew how long I could go, I just knew I had to. He needed it, I knew. But those days moved so slowly and then I had water again, just like that and I couldn't stop myself. I drank it and swallowed all that shame of drinking it!"
"You needed to survive-"
"HE! Needed to survive! I was there to make sure HE had it! Don't you see! I failed at that too! Add that to the list won't you!" His voiced calmed again, "I've failed at so many things." Sam's eyes cast on Frodo's limp form in the chair.
"No matter how much you tell yourself that, Sam Gamgee, we all know you haven't."
Sam's glare narrowed on Envin and the human stuggled under that keen stare. "We? Oh yes, all of *you* now know don't you! You all know about the journey of Frodo Nine-fingers and the Ring of Doom! Tell me, do you know the cruel wickedness of that- that THING he had to carry! It changes you! No, Envin I do not think you understand!" Sam's voice lowered once again and Envin wondered if the hobbit knew how to control his voice any more. It became old now, far beyond his years, rather shaky and fragile, "I am not the hobbit I was when I left on this quest... and neither is he..."
"No," said Envin, thoughtfully. "No, I suppose you are not. I admit, the world has changed. You may not see it, but you can feel it. And I suppose a Pheriannath, such as yourself sir, would feel it stronger, or an elf."
Sam blushed, "I'm not none o' those lordly soundin' things. I'm a hobbit."
"Yes, so you like to call yourselves." Envin smiled breifly as he quoted Lord Peregrin.
Sam nodded slightly and his eyes shifted around the room. They sought his master instinctively and found him in the old wicker chair once again. "Are you givin' 'im his treatment?"
Envin sighed at the candle which had now burnt all the way down. He remembered how the other healers were scolding him. 'These ways of healing are unconventional.' 'Can't you see it is not working.' 'There is no hope.' 'We've never once been able to cure a patient from this.' So many hopeless doubts ran through his young head he wanted to scream, but keeping the quiet compossure as a doctor most definately should in front of a patient, he did none of the sort. Envin grasped Sam's hand and led him to his master's side. Sam gently stroked Frodo's pale hand between his and bit back tears. His eyes fell on the burnt out candle, smouldering in the shadows.
"It's not workin' is it?" he said in a low voice.
"No, sir. I've about given up hope with that method. We'll have to try another."
Sam felt a pang in his heart. He resented this young healer's optimism. He reminded Sam of himself so long ago as they trudged through Mordor. Clinging to hope. Always clinging to hope. Did it ever pay off? No! Sam now resented himself for such anger he felt towards the one who could possibly heal his master. But there he went again with that hoping!
Sam looked up at Envin who had began fondling the beginnings of a slight beard on his chin. He was young for a man, but Sam found himself touching his own chin at sight of the funny facial hair. Envin's eyes flashed as something registered upon his young features.
"Sam... er I mean master... uh..." Envin bit his lip until it bled. He had fallen into a familiar reference in front of his better.
Sam's eyes lit up, "No, don't! I like Sam just fine." Envin swallowed hard. There was something strange about calling this hobbit simply "Sam".
"Ya see," Sam tried to explain, "In Hobbiton I never been a real gentle- hobbit. Me father was a gardener and his father before 'im. Me ol' Uncle Andy was simply a rope maker and a Gamgee 'as always been up in the gardens of Bag-End for o'er fifty years at least, leastways it counts up in me 'ead." Envin tried hard not to laugh for he knew nothing of Pheriannath edicate or class rank. He didn't even know what Bag-End was!
"...Anyways," Sam continued, "Mr. Bilbo an' Mr. Frodo 'ave been me employers all me life and I was always their servant, Samwise Gamgee." Sam puffed out his chest proudly and Envin could not help a small smile. "Somethin' about callin' *me* 'Mr.' or 'Master' or 'Lord' an' all goes against the grain, if you follow."
"Well, *Sam*," Envin still had to get used to the word all on its own. "Like you said, everything's changed. So has your title as I see it. You are no longer a simple gardener." At this Sam's face fell and Envin continued, undaunted. "But seeing is how all this change is so much on your shoulders, I think I can try and keep things the same for you. So around me and in this tent you are Samwise Gamgee faithful Gardener of Bag-End. Does that make you feel more comfortable?"
Sam's face brightened like the sun. Yes, this was just what he wanted! He wanted things the way they were! Envin's face also brightened, for he silently knew that Samwise was finally cured.
"Oh! Envin! I'm sorry!" he cried as Envin slunk to the ground holding his head in his hands.
"Quite alright, sir!" said Envin as he struggled to his feet. "No need to get up. I'm fine, it was an accident."
"Oh Envin," Sam untangled his limbs from the sheets and came to the healer's side, "It was awful of me to do that. You look like you're gonna get a nice mark for it too."
Envin patted his eye and winced. "It should turn a lovely shade of purple," he smiled blearily.
"Oh Envin I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" cried Sam who, at that moment, burst into tears and buried his face in his hands. Envin tried to hide his shock at the hobbit's reaction to such a silly thing, but knowing, as a good healer should, that Sam's emotional state was far beyond fragile now, he just offered the hobbit some comfort.
"Now Master Samwise, it doesn't even hurt any more, and it wasn't your fault. I understand what you are going through and I-"
"How could you understand!?" Sam snapped, "What would you know about it at all!?" Still knowing that this was the trauma talking Envin took every one of Sam's harsh blows with a calm serenity. "You don't know what it was like out there! No food, no water!" Sam calmed his breath coming in ragged heaves as the fire died in his eyes.
"I gave it all to him," Sam's voice was barely above a whisper now and Envin listened closely. "All that water until I had almost gone mad. I don't know how many days I went without it, I don't think I knew how long I could go, I just knew I had to. He needed it, I knew. But those days moved so slowly and then I had water again, just like that and I couldn't stop myself. I drank it and swallowed all that shame of drinking it!"
"You needed to survive-"
"HE! Needed to survive! I was there to make sure HE had it! Don't you see! I failed at that too! Add that to the list won't you!" His voiced calmed again, "I've failed at so many things." Sam's eyes cast on Frodo's limp form in the chair.
"No matter how much you tell yourself that, Sam Gamgee, we all know you haven't."
Sam's glare narrowed on Envin and the human stuggled under that keen stare. "We? Oh yes, all of *you* now know don't you! You all know about the journey of Frodo Nine-fingers and the Ring of Doom! Tell me, do you know the cruel wickedness of that- that THING he had to carry! It changes you! No, Envin I do not think you understand!" Sam's voice lowered once again and Envin wondered if the hobbit knew how to control his voice any more. It became old now, far beyond his years, rather shaky and fragile, "I am not the hobbit I was when I left on this quest... and neither is he..."
"No," said Envin, thoughtfully. "No, I suppose you are not. I admit, the world has changed. You may not see it, but you can feel it. And I suppose a Pheriannath, such as yourself sir, would feel it stronger, or an elf."
Sam blushed, "I'm not none o' those lordly soundin' things. I'm a hobbit."
"Yes, so you like to call yourselves." Envin smiled breifly as he quoted Lord Peregrin.
Sam nodded slightly and his eyes shifted around the room. They sought his master instinctively and found him in the old wicker chair once again. "Are you givin' 'im his treatment?"
Envin sighed at the candle which had now burnt all the way down. He remembered how the other healers were scolding him. 'These ways of healing are unconventional.' 'Can't you see it is not working.' 'There is no hope.' 'We've never once been able to cure a patient from this.' So many hopeless doubts ran through his young head he wanted to scream, but keeping the quiet compossure as a doctor most definately should in front of a patient, he did none of the sort. Envin grasped Sam's hand and led him to his master's side. Sam gently stroked Frodo's pale hand between his and bit back tears. His eyes fell on the burnt out candle, smouldering in the shadows.
"It's not workin' is it?" he said in a low voice.
"No, sir. I've about given up hope with that method. We'll have to try another."
Sam felt a pang in his heart. He resented this young healer's optimism. He reminded Sam of himself so long ago as they trudged through Mordor. Clinging to hope. Always clinging to hope. Did it ever pay off? No! Sam now resented himself for such anger he felt towards the one who could possibly heal his master. But there he went again with that hoping!
Sam looked up at Envin who had began fondling the beginnings of a slight beard on his chin. He was young for a man, but Sam found himself touching his own chin at sight of the funny facial hair. Envin's eyes flashed as something registered upon his young features.
"Sam... er I mean master... uh..." Envin bit his lip until it bled. He had fallen into a familiar reference in front of his better.
Sam's eyes lit up, "No, don't! I like Sam just fine." Envin swallowed hard. There was something strange about calling this hobbit simply "Sam".
"Ya see," Sam tried to explain, "In Hobbiton I never been a real gentle- hobbit. Me father was a gardener and his father before 'im. Me ol' Uncle Andy was simply a rope maker and a Gamgee 'as always been up in the gardens of Bag-End for o'er fifty years at least, leastways it counts up in me 'ead." Envin tried hard not to laugh for he knew nothing of Pheriannath edicate or class rank. He didn't even know what Bag-End was!
"...Anyways," Sam continued, "Mr. Bilbo an' Mr. Frodo 'ave been me employers all me life and I was always their servant, Samwise Gamgee." Sam puffed out his chest proudly and Envin could not help a small smile. "Somethin' about callin' *me* 'Mr.' or 'Master' or 'Lord' an' all goes against the grain, if you follow."
"Well, *Sam*," Envin still had to get used to the word all on its own. "Like you said, everything's changed. So has your title as I see it. You are no longer a simple gardener." At this Sam's face fell and Envin continued, undaunted. "But seeing is how all this change is so much on your shoulders, I think I can try and keep things the same for you. So around me and in this tent you are Samwise Gamgee faithful Gardener of Bag-End. Does that make you feel more comfortable?"
Sam's face brightened like the sun. Yes, this was just what he wanted! He wanted things the way they were! Envin's face also brightened, for he silently knew that Samwise was finally cured.