He stood outside his home, facing the West and smoking a pipe, his countenance grim and fierce. He had come to terms with the sadness; now he was filled with anger and feelings of betrayal. He knew, of course, these feelings were entirely misplaced; the object of his emotions couldn't have foreseen this, and it was not at all his friend's fault. He knew this, logically; but his feelings did not come forth from rationality, but from a wellspring of love, loyalty.... and loss.

He was a person who had learned to hide his feelings well, from his friends and family. The only time he allowed himself to indulge in these traitorous thoughts were times like these: either now, when the sun was just starting to inch upward from the eastern horizon and his family was still abed, or during sunset, when he couldn't drag his eyes away from the western horizon. He'd lost count of how many days in a row he had done this. It felt like years, but it could only have been a few months. He wondered if he would spend the rest of his life seeking out these moments. He wondered if he would ever find peace.

He sighed as he took another puff from his pipe, and slowly exhaled, freeing the smoke to drift off into the air in the shape of a ship. He smiled to himself; he had learned that trick from Gandalf, on their return home from the adventure that no one thought they would survive, least of all himself. He rejoiced in the fact that all of them save one had escaped death. Well, Gandalf had fallen, yes, but he didn’t really count, since he had returned to them all whole and hale. And then… then there was the one who, in spite of being surrounded by family and friends who loved him deeply, could not find healing even in his beloved Shire.

Tears filled Sam’s eyes. It wasn’t fair, it truly wasn’t, that the savior of all of Middle-earth should be burdened with sorrows and hurts that never went away. Angrily, he dashed the tears away.

Then, suddenly, a thought occurred to him that made him gasp. He realized that he hadn’t been angry at Frodo; no indeed. Sam’s ire was directed at something - or someone – that was intangible and unreachable, something that he couldn’t confront and vent his anger towards.

Sam was angry at himself.

"If only I had convinced him to share the load with me; I should'a forced him to! I was the stronger one, I could have overpowered him. If I had, the damage to him would have been less. I would've gladly taken on part of the burden!"

Tears flowed down his cheeks as his self-recriminations assaulted him, one after the other. If only this, if only that.... if only. Then perhaps Frodo would still be with them.

Then Sam's plain hobbit sense caught up with him. Silly of me, Sam thought, to think that force ever solved anything. The burden had been Frodo's to bear; the Ring never would have allowed itself to be split in twain. Besides, Sam had such a gentle nature, he never could have forced himself on anyone, let alone his master.

Sam finally got a grip on himself and wiped his tears away. Rosie would be rising soon, and so would the little one. He needed to make himself presentable and ready for another busy day. Wallowing in self pity and idleness would never do, as he had been so aptly taught by his Gaffer. He turned and entered his home, schooling his features and sublimating his emotions. He gently closed the door, and prepared for the morning's errands.

The day's chores kept Sam busy, as they seemed to do every day.  It was only in keeping up a frantic pace of activity that Sam could avoid his melancholy and depression.  Having a babe to care for added additional distractions into Sam's life, and added some peace and joy that otherwise would have been absent.  He was very careful to maintain a cheerful facade for Rosie's sake, for he didn't want to burden her with something that she could do nothing about, no matter how strong her love for him.

On this particular Highday, Sam had agreed to meet Merry and Pippin at the Green Dragon for a meal and some ale at dinnertime, so he wanted to make sure all of the chores for the day were done by then.  Merry and Pippin happened to be visiting Pippin's parents at Great Smials, and thought they would extend their trip to touch base with their fellow Traveller.  They had all been so busy with their respective duties and responsibilities that they hadn't had a chance to see each other since celebrating Yule together at Bag End.  That had been over three months ago.

Sam sighed.  He was of two minds about this meeting.  On the one hand, he always enjoyed spending time with Frodo's cousins.  Although they were gentry, they always seemed able to put Sam at his ease with their informal manner. Both of them were very entertaining with the tales they spun and the jokes they made.  On the other hand... well, on the other hand, the subject of Frodo was bound to come up.  And Sam didn't know how he was going to deal with it this time.

Well, at least he would only have to endure for a few hours at the most.  It wouldn’t be like the last time, when Merry and Pippin has stayed at Bag End for the entire Yule-tide week, reminiscing and sharing stories about Frodo.* That had been, unbeknownst to both Frodo’s cousins and Rosie, almost unbearable for Sam.  It had been a wise, healthy thing to do, but it had also been very painful.  The pain was still there, but it had lessened from an acute stabbing pain to a chronic dull ache.  Sam didn't know which was worse.

Sam stood up slowly from weeding the flower garden,  hand on his stiff back.  Groaning, he stretched and yawned.  Shading his eyes with his hand, he checked the position of the sun.  Should be almost lunchtime, he guessed.  As if on cue, Rosie opened the front door, holding Elanor in her arms.  Smiling, she said, "Sam-love, lunch is ready whenever you are."  

Sam smiled as he turned towards his beloved.  Rosie could always make him smile; he blessed the day that she had agreed to marry him.   She kept him anchored and sane, even when his thoughts and emotions were all in a turmoil.. He wondered, not for the first time:  if Frodo had been lucky enough to find someone, would that have been enough to keep him in the Shire where he belonged?  Sam's smile faltered slightly.  He gave himself a mental shake as he reached for Rosie's free hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.  He strengthened his smile for her, although the smile did not reach his eyes, as he followed her into the smial.

* See my story, In Memory of Frodo, posted here at SoA.