5: Sam

Sam helped Mr Merry carry the shopping bags to the front door of Bag End, and then when Merry insisted he could manage, Sam excused himself and set off towards home.

'Just a moment, Sam,' he heard Merry call. Sam turned around.

'Sam, Pippin and I have tried to make Frodo happy and we are getting somewhere, but we need a new strategy. We need you to try, Sam. Maybe you'll be able to break down the wall he's built around himself.'

Mr Merry was looking at him so hopefully, and with such faith in his open, friendly face that Sam could hardly say no; but how could he help Frodo?

'Mr Merry, sir, I want to be of use, really I do, but I don't see as how I can do anything to help-'

'Sam, you really are a dear friend to Frodo. He's always going on about you, you know. Now is your chance, Sam, to help Frodo. Do it for him, if not for myself and Pippin.'

Sam nodded. Yes, he'd do it, if it meant Mr Frodo would be happy again. He hated seeing him sad, a shadow of his former self.

'Of course, Mr Merry. Whatever it takes, you can count on me.'

'Thank you, Sam! Frodo will appreciate it eventually. Be here early tomorrow morning, if you can,' Merry smiled at Sam, and then turned and opened the door to Bag End.

Feeling nervous but determined, Sam made his way home, wondering all the while what he could possibly do.

Sam made good his promise to Merry and was up in the kitchen of Bag End early the next morning. He knew what he would do: Frodo was always hungriest in the morning, so he would make him the biggest, most delicious breakfast that he had had in a long time. Mr Frodo wouldn't be able to say no to that, and perhaps that would make him happy.

So saying, Sam set about cracking eggs into a cup, mixing them with herbs and whisking them, frothing them up until light and fluffy and then pouring the mix into a hot pan; cooking bacon and sausages until just right; toasting bread just the right amount until it was exactly as Frodo liked it. The smell was divine; Sam's stomach was rumbling as he cooked. Mr Frodo couldn't refuse this!

Merry and Pippin had come down and were keeping him company as he worked; he had a hard time keeping them away from the food – particularly young Mr Pippin, who would probably have stolen Mr Frodo's plate if Sam hadn't caught him. Eventually the two younger hobbits settled down with some bread and jam of their own and then helped Sam make a big pot of hot, fragrant tea.

When it was all ready, Sam picked up the tray and followed Merry and Pippin down the corridor to Frodo's room. He wasn't sure whether to go in or not, but Mr Frodo was sitting up in bed and smiled a little when he saw his three friends at the door, and Sam was assured enough that he wasn't unwelcome.

Shyly, he placed the tray down in front of Mr Frodo.

'I made you this, sir,' he said, looking at his feet.

'Thank you, Sam,' he heard Mr Frodo mumble, and then he dutifully set about eating what was in front of him. He ate only a couple of bites of everything, though, and Sam was dismayed when Frodo handed back the tray with a nearly full plate.

'Did you not like it, sir? I made everything just how you usually do-'

'I did like it, Sam; I'm just not very hungry, that's all,' Frodo sighed. Sam wasn't satisfied, but he didn't have an opportunity to reply as Frodo then climbed out of bed and made for his dresser, shooing everyone out of his room in the process.

Sam stood outside in the hall, a little hurt at Mr Frodo's refusal to eat what Sam had painstakingly and lovingly cooked for him; Merry and Pippin were also looking crestfallen. After the success of yesterday's reading, they told Sam, they had thought that perhaps he would be better. But apparently that was not the case.

Then Sam remembered something that he reckoned might cheer Mr Frodo up a good deal – over the past week or so Sam had been carefully creating a lattice which would, eventually, fit around Mr Frodo's window and create a border of sweet-smelling flowers which would perfume his room in the morning. It wasn't finished, but it was certainly taking shape. It wouldn't be long until Sam could fix some lengths of flowing ivy onto it, until spring came when he would replace it with bright, perfumed blooms.

Mr Frodo had always taken an interest in Sam's gardening work; surely he would love to see this?

Sam hurried out to the garden to make it presentable; Merry and Pippin went to get Frodo and show him outside. They were a while, and Sam started to wonder why they weren't out there yet; was Mr Frodo alright? Then Sam began to wonder if perhaps he hadn't cooked everything well enough, that Mr Frodo was suffering an upset stomach and all because of him –

But then his fears were slightly dispelled when the three other hobbits came out of the kitchen door and made their way to Sam. Sam was disheartened to see Mr Frodo looking so glum. Sam hoped Frodo didn't think he was making a nuisance of himself; that wouldn't do at all.

'Look, Frodo, look what Sam's making you!' Pippin cried out, pointing to the trellis. Frodo registered the lattice work with the slight raising of an eyebrow, and a small smile in Sam's direction. Sam began to explain to Mr Frodo all his plans for it, asking which flowers he thought smelled nicest; Mr Frodo listened carefully to Sam, but didn't show much enthusiasm.

Sam knew that the old Mr Frodo would have been just as excited about this project as he was; where had that Frodo gone? All their efforts were so far to no avail. Surely the old Frodo was still there somewhere.

Sam grew upset as Frodo appeared to listen, but Sam could see the defences that he'd put in place, veiling his eyes. Sam was not going to do this anymore – he couldn't face seeing his master transform from the much-loved and respected, happy hobbit he was before to this mere shell.

First of all he wouldn't see Sam at all and locked him out; then he wouldn't eat Sam's especially-carefully cooked food; and now he wasn't showing any interest in Sam's work. Well, Sam knew his worth and much as it pained him, this Mr Frodo obviously didn't.

His eyes began to fill with hot tears which seemed to burn, and Sam aggressively wiped them away.

'Mr Frodo, sir, I'm afraid I gotta say something. I don't as much like it, but here it is. If you don't get better, sir, and do as your cousins here tell you, I'm leaving. I'm a skilled gardener, sir, and there's a good many hobbits in town as'd have me, including those Sackville-Bagginses. If you continue like this, sir, I'll take my work elsewhere.

'There, Mr Frodo sir, I've said it; and I mean every word of it too.'

A/N: Please Review :) The next chapter is very short, so I'm posting it in just a moment.

I hope you enjoyed this one! :)