More Than This

With gratitude to Roxy Music for that great song and of course to Tolkien

for Frodo and all of Middle Earth

This is my idea of what it MAY have been like for Frodo and later Sam on the Westernmost Shore. Many opinions have been expressed as to what rewards Frodo received there. Was it merely peace of mind? Was it love and companionship? Was it relief from pain? Rest from his sufferings?

Was it all of these? Or is there something more than this.

Samwise Gamgee, now quite fat and aged but still robust sat in the elven- carved deck chair of the ship that was bearing him to the West. He was still quite recognizable to anyone who had ever had the pleasure of knowing him and he was still quick with a smile and a tale but if one looked more closely they could see a lost sadness in the depths of his kindly, wise old eyes. Sadness and grief.

Rosie was gone. She went peacefully after a good long life filled with love, laughter, 13 wonderful children, and the joy of the most beautiful and prosperous years the Shire had ever known. A shire filled with blessed summers full of flowers and abundant crops growing green and lush everywhere you could see. Harvests were incredibly bountiful and the winters white jewels made for hearthside visits and the sharing of good food and the best stocks of wine and ale and the telling of long familiar tales.

Sam had many an opportunity to tell of his and Frodo’s mighty quest and the destruction of the One Ring. Sam had lost track of the times he had retold that tale. And Rosie had come to know it as well as he and she would fill in any accidental omissions for him with pride for her husband beaming on her lovely face.

“Ah, Rosie......” Sam sighed. As he did dozens of times a day since her passing. “Rosie, my dear. I wish you could have made this trip with me.”

But for even Mistress Rose loyal wife of the oft-mayor of the Shire, a beautiful hobbit woman without equal ...even for Rose... there was no provision for her to take such a voyage as Sam was taking now. The same that Frodo had taken over sixty years before.

Frodo. THE Ringbearer and savior of Middle Earth. Sam would not allow Frodo to be spoken of in any other way, for that is what he had been. What he was. Only Sam knew what Frodo had borne to accomplish what had always seemed a hopelessly doomed task. And Frodo HAD done it. Whether or no that Sam had helped the best he could. Frodo had withstood the most unimaginable suffering with quiet fortitude and he had succeeded. Though Sam knew Frodo did not feel that way. Not as he should. So what if Sam had helped him... and even that wicked traitor ,Gollum, on the last limp of the task? Frodo’s perseverance in the face of the impossible had saved Middle Earth and nothing else.

And there was no arguing with Master Samwise on that score!

“People ought to be more grateful!” Sam blustered to no one, since he was alone on the deck. “They ought to be, and no mistake!”

Sam sighed and closing his eyes he leaned back and rested his head on the smooth silver wood of the elven ship’s hull.

“Mr. Frodo, will I see you on the shore? I want to see, you. I’ve missed you more’n I can say.”

Sam then with a hopeful smile drifted off to sleep as the ship sailed smoothly over the calm golden sea.

**********************

When Sam opened his eyes the sky had gown from a pale yellow to a deep luminescent blue dotted with gleaming white clouds floating along as gently as the elven ship. And he could clearly see the deep green of the shore-line and the far hills and mountains and forests stretching off to the edge of sight. The air seemed to glow and yet it was crystalline in it’s clarity.

Sam found he was smiling the broadest smile he had ever smiled. And a joy welled up in his heart that was at odds with the sadness that he now realized had become so much a part of his being of late. He suddenly felt ashamed of his joy as though it were a reproach to Rosie and his grief for her. He tried to stuff the joy down where it belonged in it’s proper place but it was quite a struggle and he felt like one of those big old clouds overhead that no matter how thick they seemed the sun’s ray’s kept poking through them.

Then a small wharf became visible and on it was a flash of white light. Small but bright as a diamond.

Sam squinted into the brightness and it wasn’t long before he knew that the glimmer of white was Frodo. The ship drew into shore and there he was in one of his white linen shirts and dark breeches and braces looking as fresh and merry as when they were both lads barely out of their tweens.

Sam skittered about on deck anxiously till the plank was lowered and he raced down it like a boy off to see one of Gandalf’s fireworks shows.

“Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo!!!!” Sam cried constantly, unabashed by the tears streaming down his very round cheeks. And then they were embracing and laughing and crying together and slapping each other on the back and then embracing and crying all the more. Well, Sam was crying.

“Oh, Mr. Frodo, look at me! As soggy as Bywater in a downpour! And you! You’re ....you’re bright as a daisy!”

Frodo was laughing gladly.

“Do you think so, Sam?”

“Aye! And you look no more’n you did when you were twenty! And so healthy and...and ...and bright! Everything here’s just well...filled with brightness!”

Frodo just laughed.

“It is! That’s the first thing I noticed when I first arrived. It was quite overwhelming and took some getting used to.”

“Sixty years, Mr. Frodo....it’s been since you left the Shire.”

“Is it that long? Time here is as it is in Lorien. Or it ‘isn’t’ if you know what I mean.”

“Aye, I remember, Mr. Frodo. Time never seemed to move there whether it were one hour or one day or a month.” Sam paused and looked at his friend long and hard. “You look so well. So young... like none of it ever happened. I must look a right old codger.”

“You look wonderful, Sam. And I’ve never been so glad to see anyone.”

“Now, Mr. Frodo...even in so fair a place as this?”

“Even here. Now come along. There are others waiting to see you. They would have all come down to the shore but Gandalf said only I should greet you.”

“Ah! So old Gandalf still calls the shots does he.”

“When he wishes too, he does. As always.” Then Frodo put his arm round his old friend’s shoulder. “Come on then, Sam.” he said, and Sam felt himself back in those long ago days as he and his beloved master set out on their great adventure.

***********************

At the end of a cool pathway over-arched by graceful ever-leaved trees a glade opened into the lee of a tall white cliff. Seats had long ago been carved into the walls of rock and upon them sat Gandalf looking white and stern but with a twinkle in his eye that he never believed anyone would notice, Elrond sat next to him looking regally unchanged, and Galadriel as beautiful and ageless as ever.

“Samwise, I knew you could not long stay away from your Master.” Elrond said by way of greeting.

“Not long? It’s been sixty years, Lord Elrond, by my reckoning, that is.” Sam said. “And a powerfully busy sixty years they’ve been.”

“I’ve been trying to explain to Sam our sense of time here.” Frodo added.

Galadriel smiled as Sam.

“We are very glad you have decided to join us , Sam. You will grow familiar with our way of life here. Many things are different yet many things are the same. Notice how everything grows. A Great Gardener, such as yourself, will find much joy in this.”

“Well, you’re right on that score, my Lady. I couldn’t help noticing the flowers everywhere. I’ve never seen their like. Nor the trees and shrubs, neither.”

“You have never seen their like. Not truly. Their pale relatives grow in Middle Earth but here grow the direct descendants of the first of all that were sung into life long, long ago. They are untouched by the shadow that befell your lands.”

Sam hardly knew what to say. And as he always had in the presence of Galadriel, he blushed furiously.

“Well, Sam, what have you done with the Shire?” Gandalf spoke up.

“Mr. Gandalf. It would make you right pleased to see it. It would! It’s grown. Lord Aragorn gave us the West March and many families moved there. And everything looks as fine as fine could be. Of course not like here, begging your pardon’s. But as fine as the Shire ever looked. And so many new hobbits have come along over the years. Thirteen of my own, I’ll have you know. Thirteen! And the best batch of Gamgees you could ever wish to see. They’re all grown now of course and have started their own families and.. well, bless me, there’s Gamgees sprouting left and right everywhere, as the saying goes. Only with Rosie gone and all of them off on their own.. I was.. feeling a bit... useless.”

“Sam, you could never be useless.” Frodo told him.

“But I was, Mr. Frodo. And...and restless. And I remembered how Mr. Bilbo seemed to be afore he left the Shire for Rivendell and that’s was how I was feeling. Like I needed to be off. And I needed... I needed to see...Well, you, sir.” And Sam burst into tears.

“Oh, Sam.” And Frodo again embraced him and Sam wept copiously till he pulled himself together and then he felt terribly embarrassed.

“Perhaps you had best take Sam to your home, Frodo and let him rest and get used to his new surroundings.” Elrond said.

“I’m sorry to have made such a ninnyhammer of myself.” Sam said, wiping his damp cheeks with a large emboidered handkerchief. Then he realized it was one of the many Rosie had lovingly made for him and he began to cry yet again. “ I’m sorry, I’m sorry... It’s just Rosie, made this, and I’m here with Mr. Frodo, and Mr. Gandlaf again and you fine folk and....and.... I fair don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You need a good cup of tea...or perhaps better still...my own home brew.” Frodo said.

“You’ve got your own brew here?!”

“Indeed! And even better than the Gaffer’s.” Frodo smiled proudly. “Come along, Sam.”

*****************************

Nestled in a green hillside was Frodo’s home. Very similar to Bag End yet obviously adjusted to his own tastes. It was quite private and very quiet. No cartway led to the door. It cleverly blended into it’s surroundings so that no one would be aware it was even there unless they were informed about it beforehand. Proving the long known idea that hobbits can make themselves and their dwellings nearly disappear if they chose. It wasn’t magic it was camouflage.

“It’s so quiet, Mr. Frodo.” Sam said as they entered the unlocked round green door.

“Is it? You must learn to listen, Sam.”

“Listen for what?”

Frodo smiled.

“Just listen.”

“Now, there you go being all mysterious on me, Mr. Frodo. And that’s what you’ve been ever since I got here.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I haven’t meant to be. It’s just that there are many things to discover about this part of the world and a lot of them you will discover on your own. IF you let yourself do so, that is.”

“Mr. Frodo. I don’t have any idea what you mean.”

“Sam. Take your cloak off. And your coat. You’ll rarely need them, unless it rains. And even then it’s quite warm and pleasant enough to go without it.”

Sam did so and hung the garments on hooks that were right where they used to be in the old Bag End. Sam peered down the hallways that branched off from the entrance hall.

“You’ve made the place like home, if you know what I mean, but it’s different, too.” he said as he followed Frodo into the kitchen.

“Yes. When I get the inclination I just go and excavate another tunnel or room. The place is much more rambling than Bag End was. There are lot’s of nooks and crannies to get lost in if you wish.”

“So much room. What do you do with it all? Do you have many guests? We’re the only hobbits...unless...Where is Mr. Bilbo? He‘s not...you know...gone, is he?”

“Oh no, he’s often about. He’s got a whole long wing to himself on the other side of the hill. But he still loves to roam and he’s off exploring, yet again. He felt quite rejuvenated once we got here and there was no stopping him.”

“Don’t you go with him?”

“I’ve traveled quite enough, Sam. Though I may again someday. I prefer to stay around here. There’s plenty to see and do and all the time in the world to do it.”

Frodo handed Sam a pint of his home brew. Sam sipped it and then his eyes beamed wide in surprise.

“That’s the finest ale I’ve ever tasted, and no mistake!” Sam said draining his mug and holding it out for seconds.

“As I told you it would be.”

“Is everything like that here? You know, sir. The best?”

“Well, there’s always an element of trial and error and inventiveness. I worked on that ale recipe for what I suppose must have been years till I got it right. But generally, in the end things tend to work out well.”

“But everything isn’t just handed to you. as you might say?”

“No. Not at all. Everyone can do as they wish. Build, excavate, travel, write..... anything...... as long as no harm is done. Well, harm CAN’T be done. That’s one thing that never works out. The atmosphere just doesn’t permit that to happen.”

“You’re being mysterious again.”

“I’m not, Sam. That’s just the way it is. You’ll see.”

“And you said that there are plenty of things to see and do. Yet it’s almost too quiet. And for a hobbit to feel that is saying something for we love our peace and quiet. And what IS there to do?”

“Whatever you wish. And you only think it‘s quiet. Listen, Sam. Learn to listen.”

“Oh, now you’re back to that again! I don’t hear a blessed thing. All right. There’s a few birds and a mouse scurrying about somewhere’s. But there’s nought else.”

“You didn’t hear them before, did you? Yet you do now.”

“Well I was just settling in like.”

Frodo poured Sam another ale.

“Take your time, Sam. Wait till tonight.”

“Is there night here.”

“Of course, Sam! But you’ve never seen the stars as you will tonight. And when you go out to see them sit on the top of the hill and just..... listen.”

“Listen for what?” Sam was getting very perplexed by all this ‘listening’ talk Mr. Frodo was more elvish than ever with all this nonsense.

Frodo smiled.

“The songs, Sam. Listen for the songs.”

**********************

Sam tried to hear what Mr. Frodo called the songs that night. The stars were brilliant in the jet black sky. Sam could see millions and millions of them. More than he had ever dreamed existed. It was the clearness of the air here that made them visible. The view of them was humbling to Sam’s already humble heart. But instead of helping him hear the ‘songs’ he thought of how Rosie would have loved the sight as much as he and before he could help it the tears were rolling down his cheeks again.

“Samwise Gamgee! Now you just must stop this!” He told himself. “All this blubbering. Rosie didn’t want you to be doing this. She told you so! Frodo is happy here and he suffered so much more’n me. What’s the matter with me!”

***************

Sam was at the new Bag End for what may have been several weeks and though everything was lovely and.. well....awfully restful, and it was wonderful to be with Mr. Frodo again Sam could not shake his restlessness and the feeling that somehow he just didn’t fit in around this glorious place.

“I’m just not the glorious type of hobbit.” Sam muttered to himself over his perfect cup of morning tea.

“What’s the matter, Sam?” Frodo asked as he came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup and sat opposite Sam at the table.

“Nothing, Mr. Frodo.”

Frodo just stared at Sam knowingly and waited for Sam to explain about this ‘nothing’ that was plainly eating him up inside.

“All right, Mr. Frodo. I can never fool you. It’s just that I can’t get the hang of this place. I don’t feel I fit in any how. Now, YOU fit in like you were made for such an elvish place. It’s all that time you spent with the elves back home. But me. I’m just a plain hobbit. Pure and simple. I suppose you just settled right in once you got here.”

“I didn’t, Sam. Not for a long, long time.” And Frodo was serious for the first time since Sam’s arrival. “Oh, the pain from my old injuries faded rather quickly and I felt stronger because there’s just no room for pain here. Not that kind anyway. But the pain we bring with us in our hearts takes longer to be repaired. And I know you’ve brought more than your share with you, Sam lad.”

“Then how did you get rid of that ‘heart pain’? I wish I could be rid of mine.”

“For each of us it’s different. Even the elves bring a pain with them we can never begin to understand. They grieve for the evil that befell Middle Earth and for what they themselves suffered at Sauron’s hands. They DID suffer, Sam. More than even they can express with their great gift for words. Elrond and Galadriel I believe still grieve for much but gradually I have also seen it fade from their faces. I don’t pretend to understand what it is that brings them comfort unless it’s a stronger sense of what it is that has helped me to heal.”

“What IS it, Mr. Frodo? I wish it would heal me.”

“It already is,Sam. Have you looked at yourself lately? You’ve grown younger looking and ruddy and you look as hale as a fifty year old. And your hair is turning gold again. And there is an undeniable bounce in your step that I haven’t seen since you were in your tweens.”

“Now, Mr. Frodo, you’re making fun of me!”

“Surely you know it’s true, Sam. Don’t you feel it?”

“Yes..well, now that you mention it. I do feel.. well... healthy and my joint’s don’t creek like they had been doing. But.....”

“I know, Sam. Really, I do understand.” Frodo was thoughtful for a moment. “If you could do anything you wanted right this minute what would it be?”

“That’s a mighty big question, Mr. Frodo. I don’t rightly know what to say.”

“Say the first thing that springs into your mind.”

“All right...... Bag Shot Row! I miss the old place. It ought to be down the lane from here and it isn’t.”

“Right! Build it!”

“What?”

“Build it. I’ve lots of shovels and tools for you to get started with. Bag End wasn’t here at first either. I built it. All by myself. And it did me a world of good.”

“Well, if you think it’s a good idea, Mr. Frodo....”

“I think it’s an excellant idea!”

“And will I begin to.. I don’t know.. get the hang of this place? Will I begin to feel whatever it is you feel that makes you so...well.. blastedly content and happy. Beggin‘ your pardon, Sir, but you are.””

Frodo laughed.

“You’ll feel it if you let yourself do so, Sam.”

“There you go again! Just like with your ‘songs’ which I haven’t heard yet, neither. What you say makes no sense to me, Mr. Frodo!”

“It will, Sam. I promise. Now... It’s time for you to start digging!”

*************************

Once Sam got started on his excavations for Bag Shot Row there was no stopping him. Instead of moping around Bag End he was up bright and early in the mornings and soon he was whistling merrily as he marched along with his spades ,wheel-barrow and tools.

Sam found that his early plans to make an exact duplicate of old Bag Shot Row did not need to be followed precisely. He found he could think of ways to make this or that room, roof beam, or doorway much nicer than it had been and could create and innovate to his heart’s content.

As Frodo strolled past the now rather vast work-site one afternoon he could hear Sam whistling and humming to himself from deep inside his latest tunnel and hammering and digging away busily.

Frodo smiled and nodded to himself looking very pleased that his advice had been taken and was doing Sam so much good.

“That’s it, Sam. Good for you!” he said and rather than interrupting Sam’s work Frodo walked off to spend some time with Gandalf.

******************

Gandalf actually had a small but comfortable cottage near the harbor filled with books and papers and all sorts of things collected from hither and yon. Frodo wondered how he had gotten all this over to this shore but he knew the ways of wizards were best left alone. Most of it HAD come in the hold of their ship years before. A lot of it, anyway.

When Frodo rapped on the door Gandalf responded with a gruff...

“Well, come on in will you!”

Frodo smiled and went in.

Gandalf was bent over a table full of papers and inkwells and quills and he was scratching away on a large sheet already covered with many runes.

“What are you working on so hard, Gandalf?”

“Oh, hello, Frodo.” Gandalf was always glad to see Frodo who had long been like a son to the old wizard. And Gandalf, apart from Sam, knew more than anyone what the destruction of the Ring had cost Frodo. “So how is Sam settling in?”

“It took awhile but he seems quite happy now. He’s rebuilding Bag Shot Row.”

“Is he indeed? Good!”

“He’s fine as long as he’s busy.”

“That’s Samwise for you. He always despised being idle. He’s not the contemplative sort you are, Frodo.”

“And by that do you mean I am an idle sort?” he was teasing Gandalf and knew exactly what he meant.

“Frodo.... You are much more interested in lore, and wandering about thinking and pondering then writing it all down than with digging and burrowing and such sorts of things.”

“I DID rebuild Bag End myself, you know.”

“Oh, yes! I know! And a fine job you did, too. But that was a long time ago and what have you done since.”

“You’re right. Wandering, pondering and writing.”

“You see. And are you happy?”

“Yes, of course. You know I am. I only hope that Sam will be able to really.. well.. find his nitch here. What really makes him happy.”

“It sounds as if he’s doing that. And if I know Sam he’ll just go on finding more and more constructive things to do with himself. He hasn’t started on the garden yet?”

“Not yet. He’s too busy tunneling. But I expect once he’s finished with that he’ll start on the garden.”

“Don’t worry about him, Frodo. He’s doing what HE needs to do just as you do what YOU need to do. He’ll be fine. You know,” Gandalf said, looking out the window. “I could do with a walk. I’ll come back with you and check on Sam myself.”

********************

“Blast!!!!” was the first thing Gandalf and Frodo heard when they rounded the hill near Sam’s excavations.

They looked at each other with concern.

Sam’s head poked out of the large hole in the ground and it was covered with dirt and sand which cascaded off and down into his shirt where it scratched and itched and irritated him fiercely.

“Blast!” Sam shouted again. Then he saw Frodo and Gandalf looking down on him with perplexed expressions on their faces.

“I beg your pardon. I didn’t know neither of you were there.” Sam grumbled.

“Whatever is wrong, Samwise?” Gandalf asked.

“I thought everything was just always SO pleasant here!”

“Generally, yes..”

“And it has been! But this afternoon it seems I can’t do nothing right. Everything keeps caving in on me no matter that I know better than most how to dig a proper tunnel. I prop everything up just right and as soon as I touch the dirt with my shovel... every blasted time... it falls down all over me till I’m just... just.... fit to burst, I am!”

“Oh, dear. Poor Samwise.” Gandalf said, without actually sounding one bit sorry for Sam’s plight.

Then unable to restrain themselves Frodo and Gandalf began to chuckle at the red-faced, sand-encrusted spectacle Sam presented.

“Oh,well, it’s fine for you two to mock me! You don’t have sand and .... and ants crawling and itching like a band of orcs in YOUR breeches! Beggin’ your pardons!”

That practically had Frodo rolling about with laughter.

“All right! That’s it! I quit!” And Sam scrambled and stumbled out of the hole looking furiously frustrated.

“I’m sorry, Sam...I’m...sorry!” Frodo tried to say between gulps and giggles.

“You’re not a bit sorry!” Sam muttered. “I suppose nothing like this ever happened to you here.”

Gandalf looked down his nose at Frodo.

“Now. Sam’s right, Frodo. YOU of all people should NOT laugh. You must have Frodo tell you about his run in with the warthogs, Sam”

Frodo began to look a little more serious.

“I’d really rather not go into that, Gandalf, if you don’t mind.” he said.

“Oh. no. I want to hear about that, Mr. Frodo. I REALLY do.” Sam was still miserable enough to want to see someone else squirm a little as well.

“Do tell him, Frodo.” Gandalf said being no help at all.

“Oh, really! Must I.”

“I do think you should, Frodo.”

“All right. One thing you’ll learn, Sam is that you can do pretty much what you wish here as long as you don’t trample on some one else’s space or rights or what’s good for them. I found out the hard way when I was on a long walk in the forest up the hill over there. I was being as quiet and careful as I possibly could..”

“Not careful enough...obviously....”Gandalf observed.

“Let me tell my own tale, Gandalf, if you don’t mind.” Frodo said.

“Oh, excuse, me. By all means, continue.”

“Thank you. It seems that the path I had chosen was not one made by elves but one carefully protected by a large family of warthogs. And they are quite decent creatures though not very attractive as long as they are left in peace. Unfortunately I disturbed them. Quite by accident, of course. And the patriarch of their clan took exception to my unwitting invasion and proceeded to chase me all along the trail nipping away at me all the while till he got a hold of.... well ...my back breeches pocket and a bit of me at the same time and wouldn’t let me loose till I was out of the woods and back on my own land. It was very painful! And the worst run in with what should be a peacable creature since Farmer Maggot’s dog nearly ate me whole.”

Now Sam was smiling.

“I’m glad you’re pleased.” Frodo told him.

“Oh, no, Mr. Frodo... not at all.. That’s.. that’s terrible...” But Sam was now chuckling as they had been only moments before.

“The lesson to be learned, Samwise,“ Gandalf said,” is that things go very well here unless, as Frodo said, you tread where you ought not. And clearly you must have done so with your shovels. Let’s explore a bit, shall we. No not back down in the hole. Up on top of it, I should think.”

The three of them climbed the hill to the spot above which Sam had been digging and after brief inspection Gandalf nodded his head sagely as he gently poked his staff at the ground.

Frodo saw what he saw in the growing twilight and nodded as well.

“All right. What have you two found?”

“At least YOU didn’t get bitten.” Frodo said. “Look.”

Sam peered at the ground and into a much smaller burrow-hole out of which two angry eyes glimmered red in the setting sun’s light. Then a badger, to whom the eyes belonged, poked his head out and looking right at Sam hissed and spit at him indignantly before descending back into it’s home.

“Well, I beg your pardon.” Sam told the creature’s tail as it disappeared into the earth.

“Looks like you’ll have to dig round him, Samwise.” Gandalf said matter-of- factly.

“Aye. Well how was I to know?”

“Just as you did. He let you know didn’t he? When things go wrong here there’s always a good reason for it and it’s best to take notice right away to avoid any real unpleasantness.”

“And now we both know, Sam, to avoid annoying badgers and warthogs.” Frodo added.

************************

The morning-glories were closing their sleepy eyes as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The scent of roses grew more fragrant as twilight drew on. Rows of multi-colored hollyhocks framed the windows and lupines dances lightly in the soft breeze as if trying to shake their bell-like petals to add a note in reply to the evening calls of the robins in the hedgerows.

Sam stood appreciatively in the midst of the tall green corn-stalks on one hand and the tidy rows of lettuces and cabbages on the other. The smell of the growing vegetables mingled with the scents of the flowers and the rich tilled earth and the piney aroma that drifted down on the air from the forest was almost intoxicating.

Sam took a deep clean breath, held it in a moment and let it out with a glad sigh.

Building the New Bag Shot row and the vast garden that had spread over to and now surrounded Bag End as well had been quite a task. But as Sam became more attune to the hint’s that he was, as he called it, ‘going in the wrong direction’, and adjusted his course around the occasional ‘badger’, he found that things went smoothly and the ideas for bettering his designs for his new home and improving his gardening methods flowed freely through his now very busy mind. There never seemed enough time even in this timeless land to do everything he now dreamed up to do. Then he would realize that he DID have all the time in the world and a rush of joy, such as he had first experienced when he arrived, would fill him up to the ‘corners’ just like a hobbit-banquet.

He no longer felt guilty about that joy. It was, he had found, something impossible to suppress in this land.

As the first stars came out above Sam took another glad breath of the exquisitely perfumed air and just then on the wisp of a breeze there was a hint of something like a fiddle playing far off. Playing softly, more musical than a hobbit fiddle, more like an instrument of Lorien, a whisper of something like a lullaby. Like the sleepy melody of a drowsey garden glad of the sunny day that had passed and eager for the cool night to come. His garden.

Sam dropped his rake and filled with wonder and surprise he ran like a young lad all the way up the lane he had made toward Bag End.

“Mr. Frodo, Mr. Frodo!,” he called as he ran in the front door and through the hallways and cozy rooms. Frodo was not inside. Sam dashed out the back door and peered around looking for him but all he could see in the now carefully landscaped back garden were the fireflies glimmering at one another in the dusk Sam looked down each meticulously groomed path and when he reached the edge of the garden where the hill fell gently down into the vale behind Bag End he saw him.

Frodo was just sitting there quietly on the grassy slope and not for the first time Sam noticed that Frodo seemed to glow. Just faintly but clearly as if he reflected the starlight. Or like the light of the Lady’s Glass when you first held it up.

Sam had stopped calling out. It seemed rude somehow. An affront to the majestic peace of the night.

Sam thought that Frodo was a person who had always belonged to this unblemished land. That it was this that had always made him different and somehow just... just... the best. That was how Sam put it to himself. It was why Frodo had been ‘chosen’ to be the bearer of that awful Ring. He had been so untainted by any real speck of evil. It just wasn’t in him. Sam had seen Frodo in all kinds of moods. Happy as a lark, angry, frightened, unbearably sad yet Frodo had always, no matter what been...... he’d been......

What had Mr. Gandalf once called him?...... Fairer than most. No. That wasn’t good enough. Mr. Gandalf always understated things. Frodo was the fairest being Sam had ever known and he had known the fairest of the fair.

“Oh, that’s too many fairs!” Sam muttered to himself. “But I can’t help it.”he continued thinking. “That’s what he is and I’ve only just now really put it all together in my hard old noggin. He’s fairest. And I wonder if he even knows it? And yet, again, if he did, then that would somehow make him less fair, wouldn’t it? He’s better’n anyone anywhere. He’s far better’n me, that’s for certain. Why don‘t more people see it and give him credit for what he did?”

Without having heard anyone approach Sam realized that Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel were there with him.

Gandalf placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“He’s like a glass filled with light for those to see who can.” Gandalf said. “You’ve always seen it, Sam. It’s why you’ve always loved Frodo and served him so well.”

“Served him most excellently.” Elrond added. Gandalf was always too stingy with his praise of those who deserved it.

“You saved his life more than once, Sam.” Galadriel said softly. “You helped him carry his burden. And for this and more all Middle Earth shall be forever grateful to you.”

Sam blushed and felt his cheeks burning.

“Please, I only did what was needed. I... I...wanted to do it for him because nobody else seemed to know what he was. Not even you Mr. Gandalf. Beggin’ your pardon.”

“Well, I strongly suspected.....”

Sam was sure he heard soft laughter from Elrond and Galadriel.

“We did not know for certain ourselves.” Galadriel said. “We only knew that the task had been given to him and we offered what help we could. But no one helped him more than you, Sam.”

“He once told me that he wouldn’t have gotten far without me but I didn’t like to be praised for just doin’ what was right.”

“His praise for so loyal a servant and friend was perfectly just.” Elrond said.” And it’s why you’re here, Sam. Even the fairest needs a true friend and that is you, Sam.”

Then Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel quietly went away.

Sam stood there a long while looking at his Master. And realized that he wanted to never be anywhere else ever again. He belonged here doing what he had always done. Seeing the light that was in Mr. Frodo that no one else saw. Helping him as best he could.

“I could’ve saved him from that old warthog if I’d have been here!” Sam said to himself.

Sam slowly walked to where Frodo still sat.

“Hello, Sam.” Frodo said.

“Mr. Frodo...... I...... I...”

“What, Sam?”

“ I...heard the garden singing.”

Frodo looked up at him and smiled his warmest smile.

“I knew you would, Sam. I’m glad.”

“What do you hear, Mr. Frodo?”

“Many things. Everything is part of the one great song but each thing and person has it’s own voice. Sit down, Sam, and listen.”

Sam sat.

“Do you have a song, Mr. Frodo?”

“Yes. As do you, Sam.”

Sam sat quiet for a very long time.

“I hear them, Mr. Frodo.”