Chapter 8: Memories

Frodo's journey was much more difficult without his faithful gardener at his side. Frodo missed Sam's simple nature, his over-protectiveness, and his talk about home. Most of all, he missed the companionship they had shared. He questioned the wisdom of his decision to leave Sam in Gondor, but in his heart Frodo knew he had done the right thing. Sam would be safe with Eowyn, and his health would not have held up well on the road to Mordor. As much as he missed his dear friend, Frodo assured himself that it was better for Sam that he stay back with Eowyn. But even that assurance did not make the road without his friend any easier to travel.

Sam's heart ached for Frodo as he and Eowyn sat in the secret room connected to the aqueduct tunnels. His spirit was darker than the half-lit concrete prison he now found himself in. He hated those walls because they kept him from his beloved master. The same replayed in his tired mind time after time:

"Take care." Frodo said as he pulled himself away from Sam. "I will miss you, Samwise Gamgee."

"Oh, Mr. Frodo. Please don't go!" Sam grasped after Frodo as he stood up and left his friend's embrace.

"Please, Mr. Frodo." Sam cried as Frodo turned his back and started out the door.

Sam now stared at the door that enclosed their little room. It was the same door that had taken his dear Mr. Frodo away from him. In his mind, Sam could still see Frodo turning his head slightly to take one final look at him. Sam knew it must have been hard on Frodo to leave. He also knew that Frodo was doing what was best for him; at least what he thought was best. Sam could not feel any hate or anger towards Frodo for leaving him. He could only feel sorrow at the lack of his master's presence with him.

Frodo struggled to stay on his feet as he ascended the steep rocky slope. As he reached the top of the cliff, he peered down into the misty unknown. Frodo was glad that Sam had packed the Elvish Rope for him. Lady Galadriel had given the rope to Sam in Lothlorien. Frodo knew it was hard for Sam to part with it, but he was thankful to have it as he looked at the steep decent that lie ahead of him.

Frodo slung the pack from his shoulders onto the rocky ground. He opened the dusty bag and pulled out the braided elvish rope. His eyes searched for a solid rock to use as an anchor. He found one that would suit well enough and tied Sam's rope tightly to it. As he flung himself over the cliff, Frodo's thoughts jumped to Sam. He had done this before. It was not the same cliff, but the same feelings flooded his mind nonetheless. He and Sam had used that very rope to descend a cliff not two weeks before. How Frodo longed to see Sam climbing down the sheer cliff face behind him. Their conversation replayed in Frodo's mind…

He and Sam were making a dangerous descent down a sheer cliff face, using Sam's elven rope, in the rocky labyrinth of Emyn Muil. Sam gulped nervously and glanced down at Frodo. "Can you see the bottom?" Sam asked.
Frodo looked down, but could see nothing but mist below his feet. "No!" He called up. "Don't look down, Sam! Just keep going!"
Sam gripped the rope convulsively, his eyes tightening as he gazed resolutely at the rocks in front of him. The move caused a small box to slip from his pocket. Sam forgot his fear as he made a futile grab for it.

"Catch it!" He called urgently down to Frodo. "Grab it, Mr. Frodo!"
Frodo quickly reached out a hand to catch the falling box, and in doing so lost his footing and his hold on the rope.
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam screamed as he watched his friend fall.
Frodo landed harmlessly on his feet, and took a few unsteady steps back as he gazed at the thick fog. "I think I've found the bottom." He called up to Sam a little amused.
"Bogs and rope, and goodness knows what." Sam said as he reached the bottom. "It's not natural. None of it."
Frodo looked down at what he had caught; it was a small wooden box. "What's in this?" He asked glancing at Sam.
"Nothing." Sam replied self-consciously. "Just a bit of seasoning. I thought maybe if we was having a roast chicken one night or something." He added wistfully.
"Roast chicken?" Frodo grinned at his friend.
"You never know." Sam returned feeling a little defensive.
"Sam." Frodo said fondly holding the box out to his friend. "My dear Sam."
"It's very special that." Sam opened the box and gazed at its contents. "It's the best salt in all the Shire."
Frodo's expression grew wistful as he looked down at the salt. "It is special. It's a little bit of home."

"Home." Frodo sighed. How Frodo longed to be home again. Talking with Uncle Bilbo about one of his many adventures. Watching the hobbit lads and lasses frolicking in the sunflower fields. Enjoying a tasty pastry at the market. Frodo looked about him, and as far as the eye could see was a barren land filled with many dangers. It seemed so strange to Frodo, but the closer he came to Mordor, the farther the Shire seemed from him. It was, in distance, but it also seemed that he was losing his memories of home. Constantly, the Ring fought for his mind's utmost attention. He wished Sam was with him to tell him of Hobbiton. Sam was always ready to tell anyone about his homeland, he was proud to live in the Shire. Frodo chuckled slightly as he remembered their stay in Rivendell. Sam greatly admired the elves and their home, but he also gave them more than an earful of talk from the Shire. Frodo observed the attentiveness that the elves gave to Sam, knowing full well that they had seen much grander places and people. Yet they caringly listened as he rambled on. Oh, what he wouldn't give to have his dear Sam to give him an earful of talk right now. It was hard for Frodo to continue on without his friend, but in his heart he knew that it was better for Sam that he go on alone. He now understood the stark truth of Galadriel's words when she told him that to be a Ringbearer is to be alone.

TBC

A/N – The scene of Frodo and Sam in the Two Towers is from "A Novelization based on Two Towers – Extended Edition" by Michelle Penney.