My dearest Sam,                                                                                                 
    You will more than likely never read this. I don't know if I want you to, anyway. But I must write out my feelings, ones that are so new on this day. It helps to write to you, because I know that if you were here, you would listen to me and hold me close until the shadows flee. But you are away on forestry business, so I understand that you cannot be here.
     It is a year ago today that I was bitten by Shelob and taken captive. It is so strange, Sam. My wound hurts so that I can barely write this letter. Visions of when I woke in the Tower keep assailing me. I can see...see those eyes, and the claws and knives. And I can hear the voices. They are terrible! Oh Sam you can't imagine how horrid they are! I feel so helpless and alone. Last time it only took you two days or so to find me. Now I won't see you again for a week. I don't know if I can make it today without you. But no, I made it then, surely I can make it now.
   On the sixth of October, I was fine again the next day. I can only hope that I will have the same result. But the blackness is so much deeper, so much darker. Even Queen Arwen's jewel is not much help. It is worse because you are not here, my Sam? Does that mean that this will not end until you come? I must endure this darkness for a week? Oh I pray that will not be so!
   My dearest and most beloved Sam, I remember now the way I treated you when you found me the first time. My heart is wrung with grief. But also I am filled with awe and gratefulness. For, if you had not been there, I would now be in the most horrendous torture of the Dark Tower, and all of Middle Earth would be clouded in shadow and shackled in evil. Hannon le, gwathor min. You will never receive the honor you deserve.
   Why, Sam? Why does the Voice of the Ring still torture me? Why am I still assaulted by that which has been destroyed? I know, Gandalf told me to have patience, but how can I have patience when with every passing minute my heart and soul is being torn at and mauled? I need you, Sam. I need to hear your voice again. Even if it's to gently reproach me for not being abed when I feel so sick. Your voice always chased away the Shadows in my mind and calmed and soothed my broken heart. Did you know that? I don't know if I've ever told you that, and if I told you now, I would never be able to properly express how much you really mean to me. In mil le, gwathor min, in mil le. I must go now, for though you are not here to tell me to go back to bed, my body is doing it. I feel so sick, so sick. You will forever be the brother of my heart.
Love,
Your Frodo