^{“I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil” - Gandalf}

^{The soft and gentle sound of the waves fell deep into Sam's heart as he looked out far across the vast sea, while the evening deepened into darkness, littering the sky with the light of a thousand shimmering stars. Sam could feel his face growing wet with tears as with the final light of the setting sun, a grey shadow upon the waters faded away, lost forever over the western horizon. Not a word was spoken and not a sound was to be heard, save for the rising and falling of the waves as they touched the shore. Sam turned to his companions, Merry and Pippin; their eyes too filled with the heartache at such a loss… the loss of kin, the loss of a friend, and most of all the one true savior of Middle Earth.}

^{At last they soon turned away, not once looking back as they brought themselves up onto their ponies leading them on to the long journey home. Silently they rode long into the night and far into the next day each keeping their thoughts at bay, their words of sadness hushed with the passing of the fair autumn breeze. Sam followed closely as Merry and Pippin rode before him, in constant watch over their dear friend. Sam's face had grown long, his eyes still shrouded in a faint mist of coming tears while his heart ached within. The hour then finally came when they reached the Shire and it was then when Pippin turned to Sam passing him a tender smile. A deep breath passed over Sam's lips and the gesture was returned, for indeed he had taken a great comfort in his friends along the weary road.}

^{They came over the downs and fell to the East Road where Merry and Pippin turned away towards Buckland, raising their hands to Sam and wishing him well on the remainder of his way. Sam then turned to Bywater and as he did, faintly, two voices rose up in song. It was Merry and Pippin, and Sam's heart was lifted of a small burden, as he smiled remembering the day when he last heard that tune while at the Green Dragon, with Frodo by his side.}

^{And so he went on, coming back up the Hill as day was ending once more. The light of fires burning brightly within the many smials of Hobbiton soon shone like fireflies within the night. Yet there, shining brighter than all was the welcoming light of Bag End. Slowly he came around the Hill, leaving his pony near the front gate, and he walked ever so slowly through the gate and up the stone path, to the door where he stood in silence for just a brief moment before taking his hand to the bright golden knob. He tried in vain to not look westward in hopes to see the face of his dear master running quickly up the path, regretful at having the thought of leaving the Shire. Yet, he knew it would never be so, for his eyes did not deceive him as he watched Frodo's ship fade into the veil of mist while it sailed onward to the straightway where he would at last find his healing in the lands beyond. His heart fell heavy again and he turned the knob pushing the door open. The smell of boiling roast was in the air and soon Rose came, drawing him in, and setting him in his chair next to the fire that was burning brightly within the hearth of the den. She then brought Elanor from her cradle and placed her in Sam's lap and he looked down to her, as her blue eyes shone while a smile filled her round face. Sam held her close, taking in her soft scent, while a tender coo came from her lips as she tugged at the buttons on his shirt. Sam's eyes then turned to Rose, and she placed her hand upon Sam's shoulder smiling beyond the heartache that too was within her heart. She looked to the empty chair setting close by, knowing that the emptiness there could never be filled again. Sam too, turned to his master's chair. A book still rested upon the seat, last read days earlier, just hours before Sam left with Frodo from the Shire, to a destination he thought he knew, only to have it become a bittersweet journey at the end. His face then looked upwards as a single tear rolled along his cheek, while Rose sighed deeply, turning her own tears away from her face. Again a soft coo came from Elanor and she babbled quietly pulling at Sam's curls that hung along his brow.}

^{"Well, I am back." Sam whispered while he passed Elanor back to Rose, as she took her into her arms.}

^{"And it is good to have you home Sam." Rose said tenderly touching her fingers to Sam's cheek drying away his fallen tear. He grasped her hand into his own and brought it to his lips leaving a kiss upon her skin soft as the petals of a newly blossomed rose.}

^{Sam then came away from his chair and stood before the fire while Rose took leave, making ready for the evening meal. Sam looked to the mantle where painted portraits hung and worn books rested. A set of keys lay among the many tall candles on a small table near Frodo's favorite chair. Maps were placed hastily around the floor some folded others laying open, with special places of interest and favorite walking paths marked out in red ink. They were Bilbo's old maps, many of them drawn out by his own hand from memory and others from books written by the Elves. It was hard to imagine this all belonged to him now. Bag End and everything within. From the mathoms that still were piled high along the front entry to the papers that littered the study floor scratched out by hands that were no longer within the Shire. Close at hand a cloak hung from a hook on the wall, long faded with passing years and tattered from travels drawn and harsh. A pin shone with a glimmering light and Sam brought his hand to the leaf shaped broach gently tracing the outline of it with his work worn hands. A sigh fell past his lips, and at that moment Rose called his name, inviting him to the evening meal. Hours later with supper gone and the plates cleared and washed Sam drew himself away into the study looking through the pages of the Red Book, reading over entries placed rather quickly shortly before Frodo's leaving. He wrote of the journey's end and of coming to wake in Ithilien at Sam's side, and of the joy within his heart knowing that through it all they were still alive. A warm feeling filled Sam within as he turned over the last page filled with the delicate flowing script written by Frodo's hand. Moments passed and Sam looked on to a quill resting nearby. Slowly his fingers searched along the desk for a pot of ink, and soon it was found buried beneath a mound of crumbled papers, thrown aside with unfinished musings from both Frodo and Bilbo. Some time it had been since the desk had been tended to, yet Sam could now understand why Frodo had left it so, perhaps in remembrance of Bilbo when he was still at Bag End. Sam brought a chair up to the desk and brought himself up into it pulling the Red Book closer to his hands. Carefully he removed the small stopper in the ink pot, dipping the quill inside. He thought for a moment as he looked to the empty page alongside Frodo's last entry. Words had seem to escape him, but then Sam closed his eyes, thinking back to days in a past so distant it seemed as though it had been among the years of a different time. It was then when Frodo was still in the Shire, long before the journey to Mordor… when he was still in his youth, bright and merry, full of an undying happiness that could never seem to fade. Yet now, the happiness was filled with innocence lost, covered by wounds that could never pass, leaving a pain within that would not go away. Hope had been restored but at a price, leaving the one who should still be in the Shire to enjoy what would come with the new age, sailing over the sea to find healing where in other places it could not be found.}

^{Sam could feel his eyes well with tears as he opened them to look upon the empty pages before him now stained with small drops of ink, fallen from his quill as it rested within his trembling hand. Soon the drops of ink were joined with droplets of the heartache that began to show once more, while tears streamed along Sam's face, falling to the pages of the Red Book below. Slowly he took his hand to the pages, writing of the journey he took westward with Frodo to the Havens, where he left his master and a part of himself at the quay, as the great white ship sailed forth to the lands beyond the sea. He continued on, writing steadily whilst a candle burned with a soft amber glow nearby. His thick letters stuck out beside the delicate words written by Frodo's hand, and it almost seemed a shame to add them along side such beauty, but Sam wrote as the sky filled with the light of brilliant stars, while the moon rose ever higher with the coming night. He soon came to a place where he felt as though he could end. When his hand came to rest upon the knob of the front door of Bag End, knowing that once he went inside, life would begin anew once more, without his master at his side. Sam tenderly placed the quill down onto the desk and looked over the page at his first entry into the Red Book that had been passed on to him from Frodo, just as it was passed to him by Bilbo. It seemed a very fitting way to begin his account of what had come to pass over time, and in the days and years to come he would take his hand to the pages once more continuing on with more remembrances of the past.}

^{Sam then looked to the candle and with a gentle breath he extinguished the small flame darkening the room, with naught but the glow of the harvest moon to light his way out of the study. The fire in the den had long begun to fade, and it was then that he knew many hours must have passed him by while he sat before the Red Book with quill in hand. Not a sound was to be heard while he made his way to his room, yet on the way, he stopped for but a moment before the open door of Frodo's old room. Inside the bed was neatly made and many books rested along the shelves that lined the walls. A deep stillness seemed to fill the air, and Sam reached out before him taking the knob of the door into his hand, closing the door tightly, leaving what lay beyond the door, untouched and preserved in memory of a dear friend. He then walked on, making his way to his room where he found Rose sleeping, wrapped tightly among the covers that had seemed to become many on this cold autumn night. Elanor slept peacefully in her cradle that rested close to Rose's side, her tiny finger placed within her mouth, while her lips tenderly nursed upon it. On a nearby chair lay a clean nightshirt, folded lovingly after drying before the fire, following a fresh wash that morn. Sam undressed slowly setting his clothes neatly over the back of the chair as he took his nightshirt, pulling it down over his head. A soft fragrant scent was still within the fabric and he smiled while looking out the window to the moon shining brightly in the darkened night. Perhaps Frodo was looking upon the same moon too, seeing the same stars within the sky. Sam sighed deeply and then drew himself into his bed pulling the covers around him tightly. He then closed his eyes listening to the sound of his beating heart as he slowly fell into a restful slumber, while a familiar scent of the sea air seemed to fill the room, bringing with it in rhythm of his heart, the sound of the waves as they rose and fell upon the shores of Middle Earth.}