Goodbye Sam

Chapter 4

Frodo looked out placidly at the gray clouds, a storm brewing. Sam and Rosie had been on their honeymoon for almost a month and were returning today, or so everyone said.
It felt like Frodo hadn't left his desk chair since the wedding, which was almost true. He had done next to nothing except try to finish Bilbo's book. Most days never finding what he wanted to write down, and slumping forward onto the wooden desk, falling into a fitful sleep. He was plagued by nightmares, and the pain in his shoulder was so great, it felt like a hot poker on his skin, melting and sizzling it's way to the burrows of his heart.

Pippin and Merry checked on him almost every day, filling his pantry with food he would never eat, and trying to urge him to get out and go on a walk. To do something. But Frodo could not bear to see the color of that river again. So he sat in tormented silence, mistaking a shadow to be Smeagol's hunched up form, or the crackle of Gandalf's fireworks. Every creak an enemy, anything that glittered making him quake. He once found himself staring intently at the brass knob of his fire poker, caressing and hissing at it, possessed. When he discovered what he was doing, he cried out, and fell upon the carpeted floor, calling out to Sam as if it was the only word he knew.

He was found the next morning by Merry and Pippin, who thought about contacting Gandalf or Rivendell for assistance but Frodo replied sharply, insisting that he was to finish the book, to be at home, to be there for Sam. They were frightened, he could tell, but he couldn't bring it into his manic mind to care anymore.
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Sam and Rosie arrived around late noon, a light spring rain gifting the Shire. The carriage creaked over the bridge and up a winding dirt road, crossing over till they reached their beloved home. Sam had never had such a fun experience. No doubt in his mind that he had made the right choice for a wife. They had quite a fun time with Legolas and Gimli at Rivendell and he'll never forget their visit with Arwen, Aragorn, Faramir, and Eowyn. However, he couldn't stop thinking about Frodo. He felt something deep inside that was gnarled and rooted in the pit of his stomach like a sickly plant. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Frodo to be exact.

He hopped off the coach when they arrived at Rosie and his new house, made as a wedding present from all the village hobbits. "I'll be back to help unpack, but I need to say hello first." Rosie nodded and Sam pecked her on the cheek, then ambled over on his way to Frodo's house. He met Merry and Pippin at a small crossroads on the way, and they cried out to each other, laughing and hugging. After the usual forms of greeting, and when Sam told them a little about the honeymoon, he enquired about Frodo. Merry and Pippin's joyful expressions changed in a blink.

The light rain turned into a full on downpour and lightning cracked as if the sky was breaking.
They all huddled under some cleft overhanging from the end of a yard, bunching their cloaks around their shoulders. "That's just the thing Sam. Frodo, he's - he's gotten much worse. Ever since the wedding he's done nothing but sit holed up in his office trying to finish Bilbo's book. He has nightmares, hallucinates things. Who knows how long it will be until Gandalf comes for that release. We don't know how much longer, he-" Pippin's eyes filled with tears. Sam nodded quickly and gave a quick pat to Pippin's shoulder before he went out from the overhang of earth and started sprinting up the muddy road to Frodo's house. He had to find him.

He went past the spectators gaping from their doors, some calling out to him, wishing him welcome and wondering how the honeymoon went, but Sam completely disregarded them, going as fast as his short legs could carry him. He finally reached the green round door, the door that brought forth so many memories, and opened it, for it wasn't locked. The door crashed into the wall, and Sam bustled in, not caring to wipe his filthy boots. He turned the corner, peering into the sitting room area, then trotted over to the study where he finally found Frodo. Slumped and shrunken.

He rushed to his side, grabbing his arm roughly and shaking him. "Frodo," he said, his voice trying to stay even and calm, but it was hard to keep down the panic that was clawing at his throat. "Frodo," he repeated, pushing back his shoulders that were wrapped in some sort of thin shawl. Frodo's head rolled back, and he groaned slightly. His face was even more pale than before, and his eyes were puffy and rimmed. He had a faint blue vein clenching and unclenching as he moved his jaw right above his brow. He opened his startling blue eyes, the only thing that seemed to be shining out of his dull body. "Sam..."

"Thank God," Sam whispered, pulling Frodo's hair back from his head before pulling him into a crushing hug. "What have you gotten yourself into now, Mr. Frodo?" Frodo didn't reply for a while staring blankly off into space. "I'm glad you're finally here Sam." Frodo said, his eyes drifting up to Sam's again, giving him a lazy tired smile. "As am I Frodo. As am I." He studied Frodo for a moment, thinking. "Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't gotten back in time. By thunder, have you eaten anything while I was gone?" He looked at Frodo's gaunt figure. Ink spread all over in dark blotches on his long slender fingers.

At that time, Merry and Pippin caught up and hesitantly walked through the threshold, looking at Sam with pleading eyes. Sam looked at them grimly, setting his jaw. "Go tell Rosie I won't be home for awhile. Help her unpack please." Pippin took a step forward, "are you sure you're okay here Sam? We could-" Sam cut him off, eyes nearly bulging. "I think you've done enough help already, thank you."
"Sam," Merry said apologetically, trying to explain. "He wouldn't let us near him. We tried to write, but-" "Just leave please" Sam said quietly. Pippin and Merry stood there for a minute, then hung their heads and walked out silently, closing the door behind them.
"Sam." Frodo said calmly, placing a hand on his arm. "It isn't their fault." Sam's shoulders sunk. "I know."

Sam helped him out of the chair and walked him over to the kitchen. He got himself busy, talking to Frodo the whole time about where they went for the honeymoon and all the adventures. This saddened Frodo even further, but he saw Sam's face light up when he talked about it. That was enough for him, so he listened quietly, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips as he gazed at him.
Sam made potato soup, and grabbed biscuits and tea. He practically fed Frodo and made him eat every drop, slowly but surely. Then he drew a bath, pouring oils and making the water perfect. He helped Frodo undress. Frodo shivered, his naked thin body hitting the unfamiliar cold air. Sam looked at his shrunken wasted form sadly. "In you go" he tried to say cheerfully, helping him in the copper tub, wiping away his tears. He laid out clothes for him and started to pack his things.

Once Frodo had finished, and was clean and full for once in what had seemed like years as he waited for Sam, he looked at his friend with a quizzical expression. Sam looked back stubbornly as he plopped Frodo's bag by the front door. "You're moving in with me and Rosie."
"Samwise..." Frodo said tiredly dragging a hand down his face.
"Nope."
"But I'll be a burden, and you and Rosie just got back, and I can't-"
"Shh."
"No Sam, I have to finish the book! I-"
"You can finish it at my house then," Sam replied shortly, before picking up Frodo easily and carrying him bridal style out the front door. Frodo cried out in surprise, kicking his legs weakly.
"Put me down Sam."

Sam ignored him, and grabbed Frodo's luggage. Frodo had gotten so thin and Sam even stronger, that he was able to hold Frodo with one arm and the carpetbag with the other. He kicked open the door, and set Frodo in his own horse drawn cart, setting the bags in the back and hitching up the two ponies. Frodo sighed, giving up and squinting feebly in the now bright sky. The rain had stopped and left a fresh feeling about the air. Sam hopped in beside him and started to drive the ponies down the muddy road. This was going to be quite another weary adventure for Frodo.

...the Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin,
But I at least with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.