V
When Sam returned to the caves he found Frodo and Pippin warming their hands over a brazier of coal in one of the antechambers presently serving as housing for Elrohir's company of elves. Frodo and a few of the elves were speaking quietly to one another, in Elvish. Frodo's voice sounded small and sweet, falling slowly from his tongue as he spoke.
Sam stood, staring at his master in awe. Frodo was still much too thin to his eyes, yet his face appeared to be lit from within now, with a warmth that heartened Sam that his master might come back into his own, one patient day at a time. Pippin saw him enter and got up gingerly to come join him at the far end of the room. The young hobbit looked worried and Sam's heart thumped at the thought his master might have had some sort of spell in his absence.
"What is it, Mr. Pippin?" Sam whispered, not wanting to disturb his master's conversation. "Is Mr. Frodo well?"
Pippin nodded his head, but pulled Sam close so he might speak to his ears alone. "He's fine, Sam. He's still in love with the elves as you can see. They've been sitting with him for over an hour now, who knows what they're talking about. I was beginning to feel useless. But tell me your news. The men are making to ride out tonight; they've been bustling about all morning. They won't tell me anything and I know you weren't called away by chance."
Sam looked aside, uncomfortable with his oath of secrecy in the face of his friend.
"You'll have to pardon me, Mr. Pippin, but I'm not allowed to say, exactly. Gandalf and the others talked over a good many things. I was worried about leaving Mr. Frodo for so long."
"You needn't be overly concerned, Sam. My cousin's stronger than you think. That isn't what troubles me the most," Pippin said, lowering his voice even more. "I had a chance to speak with some of the men this morning while Frodo slept. I know now how the Ring fell into evil and how you were both taken to the Tower," he said, with dismay. "I know Frodo can't remember much right now, but if he improves, and I hope he doeswhat I'm wanting to say is, he mustn't know what happened in that mountain. It would kill him to know."
Sam caught Pippin's gaze, conveying how clearly he'd taken this knowing into his heart where it would lay forever unknown to the one person who mattered most in the world to him. Sam could well remember his master beaten and burned, a small shadow before the fiery precipice. The grief caught his throat and he nodded sorrowfully.
Pippin brushed his arm in sympathy. "I'm so sorry Merry and I were not with you. You had to be the bravest of all of us, Sam. Frodo couldn't have hoped for better."
Sam took Pippin's hand and held it a moment until he saw Frodo turn about, welcoming his return with a smile. The elves got to their feet, bowing and leaving the hobbits to themselves. Sam went to his master and sat by his side at the coals. Frodo moved close, leaning his head upon his shoulder.
"Where did you go, Sam?"
Sam slipped an arm about him and kissed the top of his head. "Not far, Mr. Frodo. Gandalf wanted to have a chat with me, is all."
Frodo closed his eyes and yawned. "What did you talk about?"
Sam looked back for Pippin and saw he had left the room
"Oh, many thingsabout the fighting and the armies and such. It was dark and cold. I missed you."
Frodo sighed pleasantly and settled his cheek upon the folds of Sam's cloak. His breath came slow and even and Sam thought he'd gone to sleep until his lips parted and he said: "What does Gandalf plan to do? Can you tell me, dear Sam?"
Sam felt an odd shiver run through him. Something about the way Frodo asked this question resonated in an queer way. "Are you feeling well, master?"
Frodo seemed to wake more and raised his head to look at him. His master's large blue eyes were sleepy, but clear of the fog that had dulled them to confusion not long ago. "I am feeling much better. Each day, it seems. I just wish I could put all my memories back together. There's so much that's gone and what remains can be so confusingand frightening, at times."
"Don't you fret over the bad memories, Mr. Frodo. I'll hold them for you, until you're well. Our story is safe," he said tapping his chest. "Right here."
Frodo touched Sam's chest reverently before relaxing back against him. "You have to leave me, soon; I know," he said.
Sam stiffened. "Who said I was going to leave?"
Frodo shook his head. "Don't be cross; no one told me. I can see it in your eyes."
Sam felt sorrow fill him as he held Frodo fast to his side, turning his lips to his hair. "I don't know what to do, master," he confessed. "They need me to help themto go and ride out for the Enemy's camp tonight. Our home, Mr. Frodo, it's in some trouble I dare not think too closely on. It might help if I go, but I wish it weren't all up to me. But I think Gandalf would say these things don't always come to the ones who look for it, if you follow me. I do have the rings, after all. It's like I'm supposed to keep on going as far as my legs will carry me. And I would, were it not for you. I won't take a step if I can't know you're safe and not needing of anything."
Frodo pressed his cheek warmly to Sam's and the touch eased him some. "Please don't worry, Sam. Pippin is here now if I need someone close-by. Go, if it will help the Shire. I do so want to see my home again, if only to learn it anew."
"Sam?"
Sam turned about. Pippin had approached from behind them, holding a hauberk and surcoat of black and silver. He kneeled and laid the vestments on the stones before Sam. "This was my armour from the tower guard of Minas Tirith. I offer it to you now, Sam," Pippin said, his eyes shining with a fierce loyalty to the livery he'd come to bear upon the battlefields. "Frodo and I can't fight anymore. We need you to go in our stead. Ineed you," he said with pain. "I need you to find Merry for me."
Sam's lowered his head. In all his concerns for his master, he had forgotten to think of Mr. Merry. Was he chained and caged now as Frodo had been? What if he himself were as Mr. Pippin was now, injured and in pain, and Frodo still hidden far away within a cloud of shadow?
Sam reached to lift the mail, running the chains over his fingers. The rings were cold, thick and strong. "I'll go," he said. With a heavy heart Sam let go of Frodo, who gazed up at him proudly, as he rose to begin his preparations to rejoin a battle that would not end until the last sunset of the world.
****
The surcoat was too long, by half a foot. Aragorn knelt before Sam, cutting off the hem with his game-knife while Pippin held up an oil lamp for light. The clothes and mail felt heavy and foreign to the back of an ordinary hobbit used to little more pomp than a patched woollen coat.
"Sam, you will not be permitted to ride out tonight bearing these emblems without one last element," said Aragorn as he ripped off the last of the strip of cloth.
"What is that?" asked Sam.
"To bear the White Tree, you must swear fealty to the regent of Gondor."
"Oh!" Sam said, embarrassed. "I forgot. What do I do?"
Aragorn smiled. "Where is your faithful sword?"
"Here," said Frodo, returning from the tunnels carrying Sting in its scabbard. "And something I forgot had been returned to me." Sam could see the shimmer of silver draped over his arm. "That heavy mailshirt needn't slow you down, Sam."
"But, Mr. Frodo! I can't wear such a fine thing. My gaffer'd have a fit!"
"But he isn't here now, Sam. And I insist."
With Frodo and Pippin's help, Sam allowed himself to be undressed and redressed in the finest clothes he knew he'd ever have chance to wear. The dwarf rings came first upon their silver chain followed by a hastily tailored leather tunic. The mithril shirt was next and it went over his head, falling from Frodo's hands like a rain of shimmery starlight. The surcoat with its silver tree was belted fast over both and hung now properly to the knee over some cut and cinched trousers borrowed from the men. Sting came next and at last Aragorn raised up the winged helm and set it upon Sam's head where it fit like a glove.
"You're a proper soldier now, Samwise. Draw your sword and lay it at my feet."
Sam did so, Sting singing as it was drawn once again from its scabbard. Sam placed it on the stones before the undeclared King and knelt upon one knee, a little wobbly in his new vestments.
"The helmet," whispered Pippin.
"Huh?"
"Take it off and put it under your arm," Pippin said with a grin, which was soon shared by Frodo.
Sam did and lowered his head as Aragorn took up Sting and lay the blade upon his left shoulder.
"Samwise Gamgee, son of Hamfast, do you swear to uphold the honour of the Citadel by speaking the Oath of Service after me?"
"I do, sir," Sam said and spoke these words after Aragorn: "Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor and to Lord Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur and of his Kingship; to speak and to be silent, in peace and in war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my Lord release me or death take me, or until the world end. So say I, Samwise Gamgee, hobbit of the Shire."
"Well said," said Aragorn as he raised the sword to touch his right shoulder. "Rise. You are now Samwise Gamgee, Hobbit at Arms of the Citadel. You shall be bound to me and my call to war."
"Yes, sir," said Sam, still kneeling and blushing all over. "I've never had such a long fancy title before, siror should I be saying majesty or the like?"
Aragorn chuckled and held out a hand. "On your feet, Sam. Tonight, I command you to ride out with Captain Legolas. I will tell him you are ready."
