I will not say the Day is done - english version

The healer

'You'll have to fetch Miss Grubbs,' said the Gaffer in a tone that brook no contradiction. 'Like it or not, Sam, you can't cure him on your own.'

'I know, Da. I know there are some wounds you can't see from the outside. Maybe he's more than just emaciated and exhausted.'

His throat tightened, but Sam went on.

'I want to stay with him, just like I should have three years ago.'

'Eat something first. Then you can put a mattress by his bed if it makes you feel better.'

Hamfast Gamgee had understood many years before that it was useless to try and separate Sam from his Mr. Frodo. He had been the first surprised to see him come back without his master, and among the only ones not to question the eternal sorrow in which Sam had been plunged ever since. He had encouraged his son to court the Cotton lass, hoping that it would bring him some closure, but he had always known, deep down, that it wouldn't be enough. When Hamfast had recognised Frodo a few hours earlier, the shock of knowing he was alive and in such a bad state had quickly given way to a deep relief. At last, he was going to get his Sam back, at last he would no longer see his son wandering about like a wounded soul, his heart heavy with grief and guilt. Maybe he would finally marry Rosie, maybe he would be one and whole after all these years of being only half of himself.

As soon as the living room was cleared of their work, Sam quickly swallowed his soup down. He was about to get up to join Frodo when his father stopped him. Sam barely contained his annoyance but let the Gaffer say his piece.

'Sam, I know you want to do what's best for Mister Frodo. I must warn you though, he may not want you to help him. Maybe he won't want anybody's help. What we did this afternoon... it was for his own good, but against his will. He might blame you for that.'

'Just like he'll blame me for everything else,' Sam said in a strangled voice. 'But I have to go against his will to give him a chance to forgive me someday. I'd rather have him safe and sound and without love for me than live in a world where he's gone.'

'Sam, my boy... you're being unreasonable. But you're a Gamgee, and I know there's no use reasoning with you when it's your heart talking. Well, anyway, since you've decided to be unhappy.'

'I don't wanna be unhappy, Da. I just... I want him to be happy, with or without me to take care of him.'

'And if he refuses your care, if he refuses to get better?'

'I will call the King Elessar himself if I have to. But he will heal.'

Hamfast shook his head and just wished his son a good night. He may have been used to it, but his son's stubbornness when it came to Frodo had always made him feel helpless. It was like fighting a storm on your own: you could flap your arms around all you liked, it would never stop the rain from falling, the wind from howling, or the thunder from rumbling.

When Sam pushed open the door of the small room, his mattress rolled up under his arm, he tried and listened carefully to his master's breathing. It was irregular, rather weak, but reassuring nonetheless. Sam had tears in his eyes. He approached, his steps soft on the floor, and placed his straw mattress at the foot of Frodo's bed. He was right next to him and yet still too far away, so far away. He wanted to wrap him in his warmth, to soak him in his devotion and love. But it was too early for that. And how could he have pretended that it wasn't all his fault? If he had found Frodo when he searched the tower of Cirith Ungol, if he hadn't given up his search so quickly, if he hadn't given up hope... He had believed Frodo was dead, otherwise he would never have left him in the hands of the orcs. But he had sat there, had sung his song and had heard nothing but silence. He had waited, but there was nothing he could do. So he had gone back downstairs and walked. The Ring had spoken to him, had tried to corrupt him, but how could it corrupt an empty shell? What hope did he have that the Ring could have exploited to its advantage?