Hey guys, I'm sorry it took me this long to update, I absolutely promise that the next one will be up quicker. This is only a short chapter, but for those of you who were wondering, the next chapter is the VERY LAST ONE.
Replies to Reviews-
Gamgeefest- thanks for pointing out my typo's for me, all my friends know that spelling is NOT one of my best qualities when it comes to writing stories and essays and such. I am hoping that after the last chapter has been posted, I am going to go back and fix all typo's at once. And actually, I never even related this story to Sean Astin getting glass in his foot, that was actually the first chapter for this story that I wrote, long long before I had even seen the extended version. The idea came while I was on holiday with my family, and my sister was running round the pool and got a stone in her foot.
G- I am glad that you continue to point out the things in my chapters that you love, and you always read so deep into them. The portrayal of the four hobbits as preparing for their later roles in the quest of the ring are there in my chapters if people look closely enough, but a lot of people seem not to see them. I am glad that I have at least one fan that will look that close.
Anarane- You're the second person to have mentioned the similarity of the last chapter to the extended addition, and I assure you I did not see the extended addition before writing this chapter, the idea was completely original! (if you're interested to see where the idea came from, check the reply to Gamgeefest)
Fifithepinapplegodess- I know I shouldn't really be glad that I made you cry, but I am! I suggest that you have a packet of tissues for the last chapter, which should be up soon!
Shirebound- It is quite possible that Sam would show the memory box to Frodo, though it would be pretty pointless, because it was Frodo who made the box in the first place, if you go back to chapter 1!
katieelessar – I really didn't mean to keep you hanging for this long! I'm glad you are enjoying, and thank you for suggesting that I am creative, just goes to show my English teacher spoke nonsense when she told my parents I have no imagination!
ShireElf- Yes indeed you have mentioned before how much you love Frodo and Sam, though I would have guessed that before you told me, I have yet to meet anyone who does not! Unfortunately we seem to be out of chocolate cake this time, I think you must have eaten it all on your last visit, but I can offer you some fresh baked apple pie with cream?
No1Fan- Of course I do not mind you pointing out my mistakes, everyone else has at some point or another! And I do intend to carry on writing, I have a very special poem to upload when this story is finished (just one more chapter!) and another story idea that I am working on. It has not yet fully taken shape, I am loathed to give you any indication what it is about until I know where I am going with it, so please don't ask me! And of course you can have my autograph if you so wish, though it is doubtful I shall ever be famous as a writer, as that is not where I am planning to go with my career!
Frodo's sister – I'm glad you think so!
Samwise the Brave – I missed you reviews more then you missed my chapter I'll bet! And thank you for such high praise, I can't tell you how happy it makes me feel! And if one more person asks if I got inspiration from the extended dvd I'll go mad! No I did not!!!!!! (Please see GamgeeFests reply for my real inspiration!) On a lighter note, keep reviewing, I love to hear form you!
OO
Memories of a Gardener
By Michelle Frodo
Chapter 16- Bad Memories
OO
Holfast Gardener was sat on a chair in the study at Bag End. His feet were dangling over the edge, and try as he might, he couldn't make his toes touch the floor. But he was getting closer with every visit.
He looked down at the passage from the book that he was supposed to be copying. It wasn't fair, he was supposed to be on holiday, and still his Da' was making him do his lessons. He had only just started to learn his letters, and if truth were told, he wasn't making much progress. Trouble was, he couldn't seem to keep his head where it was meant to stay, or so his Mam said anyway.
Maybe putting him in the study to work had not been the best idea. The lad found himself surrounded by all sorts of interesting things, rows upon rows of books, stacks of exciting looking papers, and old curiosities which no one seemed to know where they had originally come from. All in all, a rather enticing room.
Samwise walked quietly into the room. "How you getting' on lad?" he asked.
"Not too good Grandpa." Holfast answered. "I can't seem to concentrate."
Sam chuckled. He lowered himself slowly into a nearby chair, wincing slightly as he often did lately. Holfast came to sit on his knee.
"I was the same at your age my boy. I could never keep my mind where it was supposed to be. Got me in trouble a fare few times too."
"Really?" Holfast asked eagerly, feeling one of his grandpa's stories coming on. Sure enough, Holfast was soon laughing at the image of young Grandpa not watching what he was doing, and pulling up the flowers instead of the weeds.
Sam smiled at the memory, then looked down lovingly at his grandson. So like him in so many ways, and yet so different. "You run along and play lad. You can finish your lessons tomorrow."
Holfast smiled gratefully up at Sam, hugged him tightly, and ran out of the study, through the hall, and out into the garden. Sam chuckled again and stood up. Walking into the hallway, he almost bumped into his eldest son. "Hello Frodo my lad." He said with a smile.
Frodo looked at his father as though about to say something about his son being let off his lessons, then changed his mind. "Hello Da'." He said instead.
"I was just telling your Holfast about the time I flowered the weed bed."
"I know, I heard." Frodo answered.
"Did I ever tell you that story?" Sam asked.
"No, I don't think so."
"Then I shall have to one day. It's rather funny."
"Da', why do you never tell stories of the quest anymore?" Frodo asked. When he had been a boy, his father had often referred to the great adventure. Lately he never mentioned it at all.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't. I've better things to talk about."
"But it's a good story."
"To you maybe, all you havin' to do is listen to it. But I have to live it again every time I tell it, an' just to live it once was more then enough."
"Well, fair enough I suppose" Said Frodo, but the look in his eyes said something else. I would have thought he was the last person to ever loose his memory.
But Sam wasn't loosing his memory. Oh no. His mind was just as good as ever. In fact, recently Sam often found himself re-living the worst parts of the journey, almost as though he couldn't stop himself.
OO
It was dark. Not that there had been any real light to speak of for days. It was what was supposed to pass for night, which simply meant that the darkness was no longer due to shadows and deep mists.
Camped out on Mordor's doorstep, Frodo had fallen, exhausted, into a restless sleep. Sam sat leaning against the back of a nearby conveniently placed rock, Frodo's head resting on his knee.
I'd follow you to the ends of the earth an' back, should you be in need of my help. That was what he had said. Well, here they were. The end of the earth. It simply had to be, nothing else could ever be so bleak, so desperate, so dangerous.
Sam's stomach rumbled. "Grumble all you like" he mentally told his stomach. "It'll do you no good, there's no food"
Sam had been told since he was a lad that adventures were bothersome things. They made you late for dinner. He could almost have laughed. He couldn't even remember what dinner looked like.
What were they doing here? Hobbit's weren't built to go adventuring. Sam looked down at his best friend as Frodo mumbled in his sleep. He was so careworn, so weary. So many lines of struggle and torment decked his once happy, untroubled face.
What had happened to the Frodo who used to play with Sam in the gardens of Bag End? Gone were the days when he would sit in the sunshine and read stories, sometimes to himself, sometimes out loud while Sam would listen. He was part of his own adventure story now. And, Sam suddenly realised, he never had taught Frodo how to blow grass.
Orphaned Frodo, brought to live with his crazy old uncle, all because of Sam's gift of a simple good luck charm.
Brave Frodo, who had gone out into a storm and climbed a tree to find Sam when he was lost. What Sam wouldn't give at this very moment to be back in Bag End, with nothing to frighten him but Bilbo's snores.
Imaginative Frodo, never lost for ideas, always having some game or other up his sleeve. Things were never boring when he was around to share them with.
Mischievous Frodo, who had ambushed Sam and his brothers with snowballs.
Cheerful Frodo, making the best out of the dullest of autumns. Well, here was a winter that even Frodo could not brighten. Nowhere on his face was there any sign of the smallest of smiles or laughs. No longer eyes that danced with joy, that sparkle with light. His eyes now seemed to shine with the opposite of light, yet it couldn't be called darkness either, Sam thought.
And all because of a small band of gold that he wore around his neck. All because he was brave, because he felt it was his duty to attempt what no one else would. He had known the dangers, and still he had sacrificed himself.
It just wasn't fair, any of it. Sam hated it all, this place, that thing, these feelings. All he wanted to do was go home, and take Frodo with him. To go back to them days, happy, carefree, when the only thing to worry about was the weather.
Now Frodo's worries were deep routed and painful. For Sam as well. Foul things were finding their way into Frodo's soul, Sam knew as much. The ring was whispering things to his friend, both while awake and while sleeping. Spreading fears and doubts into his heart. Like unwelcome weeds in a once colourful flower bed.
But Sam was a gardener. It was his job to pull up weeds. No matter how deep, no matter how strong, never had Sam failed to get rid of anything that wasn't meant to be there, and make the garden bloom again.
It was at that moment that Sam's heart felt lighter. He could get out of this. He would get out of this. Not for himself, but for Frodo. He wasn't about to let his Frodo down. Not after everything. If everyone else had given up hope, he never would. He, above anyone, had seen the changes that had come over Frodo, seen the torment he had lived with all these months.
"I'd follow you to the ends of the earth" and he would carry him back, if he had to. Because they were going to make it home.
OO
Sam woke and sat up quickly. How could he have fallen asleep? He was supposed to be on watch. Where was Frodo? Where was he? He called out, to someone, anyone, to help.
Suddenly a hand shook his shoulder, and he jumped back to the present. He wasn't on watch at all. He was sat bolt upright in bed. It was Rosie who had shaken him awake.
"You were just dreaming again dear" she said, a worried look on her face. Sam knew that look. It was the look she had often give to Frodo when he would awaken screaming from a nightmare. It was happening again.
As Sam settled down to enjoy what was left of the night, he suddenly understood. He knew the reason for his recent nightmares, for his too real memories. He had known all along really. Frodo had lived through the same thing. Now it was his turn. It was nearly time for him to leave.
May Elbereth bless my Reviewers; Flames will be used in destroying the ring.