Chapter Sixty-Two: The Return of the King

I don’t know why Aragorn wished to have me hand the crown to Gandalf. I know he said it was because we had made all that possible, but still why hadn’t he asked you instead, who was much more worthy of the honor than I? You were the reason I had made it to the Fire. You had not failed in your task. But the honor fell to me and I felt his love and that did warm me, even if I didn’t deserve it. Still he gave and you continue to give everyday. Oh, Sam, how I wish it was enough to stop the bleeding from my heart and soul, how I wish it could fill me instead of this despicable longing that I dare not tell you about. It is almost as crushing as the Ring itself. No wonder Smeagol could not stop seeking it or Bilbo keep from longing for it. And I can’t even seek it or see it ever again. Even if I returned to the Fire, even if there is anything left of that terrible place, it is not there. It is gone forever and I am but a shadow without it. How could Aragorn or Gandalf not know that? Arwen did, even though I was not yet a shadow then. I still had some hope. I had little idea that dark road we had traveled was not over, not for me and so not for you, for even now you travel along with me, as much as you can. You will not abandon me, though I must abandon you because I cannot abandon It. Oh, I am glad you will never see this, my brother, for I cannot think of anything but how much you love me and how I am going to betray that.

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I was that proud of you when you handed the crown to Mr. Gandalf. Imagine that, a hobbit being asked to help crown the king! I could have burst from happiness. All my wildest dreams, all the longings I had on the journey, to return home with you and just be happy and healthy and drowning in sunlight and joy after all our labors, all of that couldn’t compare to what actually happened. How could we have thought, there surrounded by the rivers of fire that ran down, that anything like this could have happened? Songs indeed we shall be remembered in! You most of all, my dear love, as is only proper. If they give me a single line, I would be happy, if the hundreds of others belonged all to you.

I was that glad to see you happy in Minas Tirith, celebrating with the rest of us, seeking out with your cousins all the new places and things they insisted on showing us. If it wasn’t for your finger, which they were always careful about when tugging you along to the next adventure, we could have been on holiday and it was indeed a holiday after all we had been through. Your light was clean and clear and we all rejoiced in it, yourself included. I know all the feteing the Gondorians insisted on giving us embarrassed you as much as it did me, but you insisted on going because it made you happy to see me sung of and fussed over. I could have done without that but it made me happy to see you honored and it made you happy to see me and there were more smiles and laughs from you in those months than there had been in too long. I hoarded them all, but not as much as I should have for I did not know how few and far between they would become and thought I would have them forever, a new one each day and more often than not, more than one. I treasured every night I could hold you, not knowing those times would come to an end as well far sooner than I thought. I think Merry and Pippin would have treasured those times holding you more too if they had known how few they would be. But one day I will be doing that again and I won’t let go. They have already asked me that I hold you tight enough so it feels that all three of us are doing it. I've told them they have no need to fret that I won't be doing that even without them saying.