"The Memory of Fair Faces" by Tialys

Frodo’s presence helps Sam through one of the more difficult times of his life. Written for Marigold’s Challenge #6.

Samwise Gamgee, so absorbed in the motion his swirling tea was creating, failed to notice his master’s presence until the older hobbit had sat opposite him at the kitchen table.

"Sam?" Frodo’s gentle voice pressed, dragging Sam, kicking and screaming, from the captivating and distracting sight of his drink.

Sam heard the voice, but kept his head down, his eyes still locked on his cup, watching a speck of sugar circle the bottom of the teacup before dissolving.

"How’s Rosie?"

Sam winced and said nothing for a long time before speaking.

"She’s about the same, sir. Fell asleep a few minutes ago. I think she’s more relaxed since we sent the children to number three for a visit."

"She’s had the flu before, has she not?" Frodo’s voice sounded oddly far away to Sam and he waited for a moment to ensure that his master truly had said something, then nodded.

"Aye. A few years ago."

"Well, that should help."

Sam looked up at last from his teacup, showing his face for the first time. His round brown eyes were tinged red and slightly puffed, encircled below by dark, sleepless streaks. Disheveled locks of hair were scattered across his brow at different angles, begging silently to be combed.

"Help?" Sam’s voice came out in the form of a whisper, and he tried desperately to clear his throat of tears.

"Wh – yes. I should think it would." Frodo stammered, sitting up straighter on the bench. "She’s had the symptoms before and knows what it’s like. Her body’s had experience fighting the illness, as well. I would assume it won’t be as bad this time."

Sam nodded numbly and lowered his head back to the table, resting his chin on his crossed arms.

Frodo sighed and bit his lip, fingers wrestling in agitation under the table. He was not helping much.

"Sorry." Sam mumbled, not missing his friend’s discomfort. "I should know better, really. What with the things you said before."

Frodo looked up from his hands, startled. "What?"

"What you said – about all our children we’ll have and all. So I should know she’ll be fine." Sam blushed slightly before lowering his eyes. "I still worry about her, sir. Meaning no disrespect to all that you said."

"Well of course you do!" Frodo exclaimed. "I’d think you quite heartless if you didn’t and if I did not know you better than that."

Sam smiled, swirling his tea around once more before drinking the cup in one gulp. He got up from the table to pour himself another cup and when he turned back Frodo was gone – as silently as he had come.

Sam sighed sadly, sparing a fond glance at the empty bench across from him before leaving to check on Rosie.

The year was 1423, two years after Frodo Baggins’ passing over the sea.

June 8, 2004