Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien. I'm not even English, or a guy.

* - * - *

I sat by the Brandywine River, staring into its depths. The sun glinted off the water, throwing rainbows across my face. The calm, cool river carried leaves and twigs downstream like ships on the ocean. No, not ships, I thought, fighting the memories that came bubbling to the surface of my mind. It's too painful. They kept coming. The memory hit me like a wave, and I began to remember...

Mist. The faint smell of salt; the sea. "Sam," Frodo says, "you have to understand. I can't stay in Middle Earth, not after all that has happened." I give a slow nod, my shoulders shaking as I stifle a sob. "Yes, Mr. Frodo, I understand." And I did. He had endured enough pain. The weight of the Ring, the Nazgul's sword, Shelob's poisons - it was all too much for a person to bear.

"Goodbye, Sam..." He boards the ship. Planks creak, waves lap up against the bow. The Whip Ship sails across the sea, disturbing the ripples made by the softly falling rain. A gentle wind fills its sails, urging it forward, while my heart begs it to stay. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to see the sight in front of me. I mentally plead with the ship, the winds, the waves, to return the ship to shore. Realizing that these efforts are hopeless, I begin to weep.

The ship is sailing farther and farther away. It seems that with every meter it sails, a spear is driven deeper into my heart. My gaffer always told me, "Samwise, sometimes if you love a person enough, you have to let them go. Still, I can't. I know I have done the right thing, but still, I can't just let him go.

I shake these thoughts from my mind and look up just in time to see the ship fade into the mist. The gentle rain turns to a downpour. Raindrops mingle with my tears and run down my face. Frodo is gone...gone.

I squeeze my eyes shut once more, and when I open them, the memory has ended.

It took me a moment to remember where I was. Looking around, I saw the river, heard the birds, and smelled smoke from the chimney of a nearby hobbit-hole. "Oh, yes," I said aloud, "I'm at Brandyhall, visiting my friends." My wife, Rosie, had sensed that something was wrong and sent me off to Buckland to see Merry and Pippin.

I looked down and saw that I had my arms wrapped around my knees. Touching my cheeks, I felt that they were wet with tears. I wasn't just remembering then, I thought to myself. I had been sobbing. But I came here to get away from all those memories. I thought that not being around Frodo's old house and all that would help. Will I ever be whole again, like Frodo wished me to? I wondered.

I had no time for further consider these things, for right then I heard the soft "plink" of a stone being tossed into the river. I whirled around to find the culprit, and there, leaning against a tree, was Pippin Took. “You alright, Sam?" he asked, looking at me, seeming concerned.

Realizing how I must look, I wiped my eyes and composed myself before replying. "Yes, yes. I'm fine, Pip, “I lied.”What brings you down here?"

"Well," he said, "I was sent to tell you that dinner is ready - are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, peering into my face. "You didn't show up for elevensies this afternoon."

"Yes," I replied, coolly this time, "I'm fine, Pip. You know, sometimes you and Merry treat me like I'm a - a child or something."

"Sam, you've been through a lot. I'm sure that there's plenty more horrible things that happened to you that you haven't told us." He said calmly, "We're just looking out for you."

"Well, since I've obviously 'been through' so much, what make you think I need HELP? I can take care of MYSELF!" I growled, dragging myself to my feet.

"You're misunderstanding, Sam. I didn't go through half of what you did and I'm still getting over it. You need to talk to somebody!" Pippin said, impatiently.

"No, you misunderstand! You have NO idea what happened to me on that quest, and I don't WANT you to. I DON'T want to TALK about my experiences. I DON'T! I took care of ME and Mr. Frodo - ..." I stopped, realizing what I had just said. I took a deep breath, fighting back tears. "I - I'm sorry, Pip. I don't want to talk about it... I just want to be left alone." I finished hoarsely. "Please."

Pippin had recoiled, his eyes wide, during my rant. He nodded slowly now and stepped towards me. "Of course, Sam," He said quietly, voice shaking. "Just let Merry or me know if you ever do want to talk. Come on, they're expecting us in the Hall." He gestured towards the building behind us.

We walked back to the Hall together in silence. All the way, I kept having the same panicky thoughts. What happened back there? What on earth is wrong with me? Oh, Mr. Frodo, why? Pippin was my friend... Why had I snapped?

* - * - *

Back in the Hall, supper was laid out on the table. Pippin was laughing as if nothing had happened, while I sat staring at my plate of chicken pot pie. I fiddled with the napkin and cutlery, not speaking. I was still very unnerved by my actions.

I heard the clearing of a throat, and there beside me was Merry Brandybuck. Merry turned to me, smiling, and asked, "So, Sam, how're Rosie, Elanor, Frodo and the rest - how many are there now?

"Twelve, “I replied. "Elanor, Frodo, Rose, Merry, Pippin, uh... Goldilocks, Hamfast, Daisy, Primrose... Bilbo, Ruby, and Robin. And they're all fine. They're all over the age of 10, so they're easier to take care of, plus Elanor and Goldilocks are both married off now."

"Wonderful," he said with a slight smile and a nod, "And elections for mayor are coming up soon. Stewart Proudfoot's running. He's a nice young hobbit, but none could ever pass you! You were the best mayor we ever had. It's sort of a shame you retired all those years ago, but then, 7 terms is enough - more than enough for some!"

"Yes, thank you." I replied lightly. Merry already knew all this. Why was he asking?

"We all turned out well, didn't we!" he said brightly. "Pip's the Thain, I'm the master of Brandyhall, you were the mayor, and Fro - ," he stopped suddenly, looked slightly horrified, then recovered. "Yes, we've done well," he finished quickly.

I raised my eyebrows. "Yes, we have," I said aloud, then thought to myself, "Pippin must have said something to him. No wonder Merry was stepping so carefully around me!" Clearing my throat, I added, "You know, you don't have to be so careful around me. I mean, it's not like I'm going to go berserk on you." Merry nodded and looked away.

"Well, I'd better get back to the other guests. I have to make sure everything is okay, since I'm the master of the Hall and all." he said cautiously. "Remember, like Pip said, if ever need to talk...”

"I know,” I said, rolling my eyes. "You two have told me that a million times. I've told you, I don't WANT to talk. Go on back to your guests Merry."

"Well, um, bye." he said quickly and went to check on dessert. I saw him whisper something to Pippin as he passed him. They exchanged glances and went their separate ways. I let out a sigh of frustration and left the room.

* - * - *

I found myself in the library. The library in Brandyhall was excellent - the best in Buckland, maybe all of the Shire, save for the collection Mr. Bilbo left at Bag-end. Walking between the wooden shelves, I fingered the dusty covers, randomly chose a book and glanced at the title, "Events of the Third Age". I flipped through it and saw that there were pictures.

First there was a beautiful illustration of elven armor, followed by sketches of weaponry. I turned another page, and when I saw what it was, I dropped the book. It was still open when it hit the ground, the picture still in plain view. It was chillingly accurate painting of a Nazgul.

At once, visions of these terrible creatures came back to me. Their high-pitched, bone-chilling screams, the winged fell beasts they rode on. A cold washed over me as I remembered the ominous sound of their horses hoof beats, the time that one dismounted and crawled along the ground near our hiding place. Frodo, whispering, "Help me, Sam..." as he struggled not to reach for the Ring.

It was crawling closer, closer...cold...pain..."Sam, SAM!" he cried...fear. Its cloak almost brushed my skin...my hand grasped the hilt of my sword...

I heard footsteps. Drawing my sword, I jumped out from behind the shelf, my hear cold with fear. Looking up, I saw it was just Merry and Pippin. I dropped my sword and sank to my knees, sobbing "Frodo, oh Frodo...” Merry and Pippin rushed to my side, embracing my shaking body.

"Sam, what is it?" they asked. All I could do was sob and choke out, "Frodo...cold...black...” Merry glanced at the floor and saw the book lying there, still open to the picture.

Pippin followed Merry's gaze. "Oh, Sam," he whispered, bending down to close the book. The book cover was still flipped open for a moment, and a painting of a ship sailing into the sunrise was clearly visible. Merry saw this and quickly nudged it closed with foot, but not before I had a good look at it.

At the bow was Frodo, with Bilbo beside him. It was very well done and it seemed that Frodo's eyes looked directly into yours, piercing your very soul. For a brief moment, it seemed that he had my face. I could almost feel the sea breeze and hear the gulls. Even after Merry had closed it, I sat staring in disbelief at the book.

"Come on, Sam," Merry said quietly. "I think its time for you to get to bed." I nodded slowly and grabbed at the shelf for support as I dragged myself to my feet. Pippin handed me my sword and I put it back in its sheath.

* - * - *

I slept a long time that night, but my sleep was disturbed with troubled dreams. I revisited every ghostly crevice, relived every terrifying moment of that horrible quest. I woke well past noon, drenched in sweat, shaking.

I dressed, washed my face and ran my fingers through my hair. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the kitchen. Merry was there cooking lunch, and the halls were filled with the smell of conies.

"Hullo, Sam!" said Merry as I entered. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"Good," I lied. "You?"

"Splendidly!" he said enthusiastically. "It's a beautiful morning, and the sun is shining! Come on, have some lunch, since you've missed breakfast." he said, gesturing to the pot of Coney stew simmering on the stovetop.

"Thanks," I replied, smiling and reaching for a bowl. Just then, Pippin walked in with an empty bowl. He had evidently been eating in the dinning room.

"Sam, you're up!" he said, adding his bowl to the growing pile of dishes in the stone sink.

"Good morning, er, afternoon, Pip," I said. As I filled the wooden bowl, I added "Merry, Pippin, I'm really sorry about how I acted towards you yesterday...especially after how kind you've been to let me stay here and all..."

"Oh, Sam, you know you're always welcome here..." Merry started.

"And we understand how hard it was on you - on all of us really. It's alright, Sam. Don't worry about it." said Pippin, handing me a spoon.

"I just have one question: how is it that you two can go on, just as you were before?" I asked, setting the spoon on the counter beside my bowl.

"We haven't. How could we?" answered Merry. "The Quest was no small thing, though the reason for it seemed so. The Ring was so small... yet, so powerful, menacing. It drew enemies to us as honey draws flies." he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing chain mail. Pippin did the same. Under his shirt was his leather tunic bearing the crest of Gondor, where he had been a knight.

"You see, Sam," said Pippin. "None of us can fully recover. But you have to keep on living, keep on going. Don't let Sauron ruin your life. He's dead. May all memory of his works die as well." he finished with venom in his voice.

They're right, I thought to myself. I have to go on. Not just for me, but for Frodo as well. He would want me to be happy, to enjoy the life that he wasn't able to.

"Thank you." I said aloud, smiling.

"You're welcome, Sam," Merry said quietly. "What are friends for?" He put his arm around my shoulders, and Pippin gave me a grin.

As I looked at my friends, happier than I had been in weeks, I knew. I had been unhappy for to long. It was time to let Frodo go. It was time to move on.

* - * - *

It is now that I find myself on the White Ship, like Frodo before me. It is not because I was unable to let him go, but because I was letting something else go: Middle Earth. A few months ago on Midyear's Day, just weeks after I returned from Buckland, Rosie fell ill with the fever. Before I knew it, she was gone.

Now, I have no reason to stay. Just as a few months ago, when the time had come to let Frodo go, the time has come now to let the tattered remains of my life go, and follow him. All that time ago in the library when I saw the painting of the ship, I knew that I would be on it someday.

I'm leaving behind the memory of the Ring, of Sauron's wraith servants, of the orcs, of Rosie's death - all of it. Soon we will arrive at the shore, and I will see Frodo. I will be whole again. All I have to do, is let go.

* - * - *

A/N ~ Okay, that's it!  It's not great, but oh well. See that button? That button is your new best friend!!!! Don't be afraid of it. That's it. Go on, click it! PLEASE   R-E-V-I-E-W!!!!