1. By the Sea

‘What madness has claimed ye, Rose Cotton Gamgee, that ye’d leave yer home in the Shire to go onto a boat that no hobbit in their right minds would board? Are ye so dafted that ye’d spend yer remaining time with strangers, though Fair Folk they be, only to be laid to sleep beside to a hobbit (a fine gentlehobbit though he be) who is still not yer Sam when all is said and done?

Rose stood on the final hill that overlooked the small settlement, harbor, and waiting grey ships that made up the place that the Elves called Mithlond (or Grey Havens in the Common Tongue). The sight was more breathtaking, beautiful than anything she could have ever imagined, and she found herself mesmerized by the rhythm of the waves crashing against the shoreline. Even if she turned back now to the Shire, she knew she would never forget the sound of the cry of the sea gulls as they floated high overhead caught up on a breeze.

The water itself memorized her more than anything as it was the deepest, most majestic blue she had ever beheld in the long years of her life, and with the Sun sending her Light down, it sparkled a thousand times more than all of Queen Arwen’s jewels put together. And as she stared out at the sea, she recalled the last days she spent with her beloved Sam, remembering the last promise she had made to the love of her life as he left her for whatever lays beyond this life.

Special thanks to FrodoBaggins_88 for betaing this! 

2. The Road Has Ended

By the time Gandalf flew into Mordor with the Eagles to carry Frodo and Sam away from the Dark Lord’s country, the damage had been done. Though the hobbits’ journey through the Black Land had only lasted for 10 days, the poisonous fumes that they had breathed during those days, had settled deeply into their lungs.

Although Lord Elrond and King Elessar had both worked to expel Mordor’s poison from the lungs of the Ringbearers, both had known that ultimately their efforts would exhaust the hobbits more than help them. Frodo and Sam simply would have to learn to adapt to life with certain limitations placed on them, limitations designed to prevent illness from someday settling into their damaged lungs and taking them away.

When he was told this advice, Sam dismissed it with a wave of his hand before he held up that same hand for them to look at, ‘Do you see these?’ He pointed to the callouses on his hands, saying, ‘These here are hands that belong to a hobbit of the working class, as I be. Your advice is all and fine for Mr. Frodo, who is a gentlehobbit (you see) but not for the likes of a Gamgee who works to keep his family clothed, fed, and tucked up in a nice, warm hole.’

Despite what the healers had feared, Frodo was indeed the only one to show signs of the damage Mordor’s foul air had wrought. Indeed, after the hobbits had returned home, there were times they had all feared Frodo would be lost to them, for when the anniversary illnesses befell him, sickness soon settled into his weakened lungs. The only reason Frodo survived long enough to ever travel to the Western lands was because Sam had refused to let his master give into the release of death.

During that last time when Frodo had been so sick, Sam would not leave his side despite the fact the healers warned that he could very well likely catch his death of the gaffer’s friend. Frodo had wanted to just lay there and be carried away from all the torment of his soul and Rose was uncertain to what Sam had said but he had leaned over to whisper into the ear of his scarcely conscious master.

Rose remembered seeing Frodo nod, and close his eyes, saying, ‘I’m so tired, Sam. Just let me be. Let me go in peace.’

‘No, Mr. Frodo,’ her Sam replied, ‘You’ve got to fight it. Just remember what your Sam has promise you if you’ll just fight It a little while longer.’ Frodo nodded again, and then slept. Some months later, when the leaves began to turn their glorious colors of autumn, Sam Gamgee kept his promise and went riding with his master one last time to the Grey Havens.

The gaffer’s friend never really forgot the name of Samwise Gamgee, and one day when he was old in years it would come to claim its prize at last.

It had began about a month before Mid-Summer’s Day when Sam developed a cough. At first, the cough was nothing more than an annoying tickle in his throat, then progressed deep enough into his chest where it caused him to waken often in the night with a coughing fit. At that point Rose had wanted to send for the healer then but Sam would have none of it, saying that it was nothing. The end started to set in on the morning that Sam awoke, his night shirt and his side of the bed clothes soaked through with sweat, a fever burned hot underneath the touch of her gentle hand.

Even before the littlest of their children had married and moved away to their new lives elsewhere in the Shire, Frodo-lad had returned to settle his own family into the smial. He would be the next Master of Bag End, and the decision was made so he could be nearby to help care for his aging parents. Never did Rose bless that decision more than she did this morning for she was able to call in her daughter-in-love to help her with Sam while Frodo sent running his tweenaged son Holfast to fetch the healer.

The news the healer had to share with them was sorrowful, and was hard for her to speak when she told them that Hobbiton's former, beloved Mayor was not long for this world. She had told them that Sam's cough had deepened first into a bad cold before it had settled into his lungs to become the gaffer's old friend.

Then as the children watched over Sam the healer of Hobbiton for 25 years pulled Rose aside to speak quietly with her. 'I'm sorry, Mistress Rose, but I do not believe that Mayor Sam will recover from this bout.'

Tears filled Rose's eyes as she asked, 'How long?'

'I'd say perhaps 4 days but he's so bad off, Mistress, I believe it'll only be two,' the healer laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, 'You best call those of your close by enough to take their leave of Mayor Sam to come without delay.' The healer left shortly thereafter, leaving both medicine and instructions on how to keep Sam comfortable. 'Send for me if things get worse or if Mayor Sam is uncomfortable.'

Quick riders were sent out with urgent messages to each one of their children to whatever part of the Four Farthings they called home. Another pony sped towards the Westmarch as well, the new territory given to the hobbits by King Elessar. It would take the messenger the better part of a week to reach the settlement there. And while it saddened Rose to know that those of their children living there would not make it in time to bid their Da farewell, she was especially saddened for Elanor, for she was their first child and had shared a special bond with her Da that was hers alone because she was their first child.

During the next two days, once and only once did Sam awaken from a brief time. It was in the middle of the afternoon, near tea time, and yet Rose was seated by the bed, slumped in a chair asleep. She had one of her hands clasped around his and since he was having a difficult time catching his breath enough to speak, he merely gave her hand a weak squeeze.

Rose opened her eyes, ‘Sam-love?’

Sam’s face was pale, and his lips had a blue tinge from the last of air but nevertheless he fought to utter a single word. Her name. ‘Rose.’

Rose touched his lips, ‘Hush, love, save yer strength and yer breath.’

Sam shook his head weakly, ‘Must...talk...now...afore...it’s...too late.’ He was dying and he knew it.

‘Let me go fetch the children,’ she replied.

Sam held onto her hand, ‘No...Rose...I...need to...talk...to you...a...lone.’

‘But the children-’

Sam closed his eyes, ‘Please...I....need....you...to...promise me...’

Tears filled Rose’s eyes, and spilled down her face but nevertheless her voice was strong as she asked, ‘Promise ye what, love?’

Sam struggled to get the words out, ‘I...won’t be....going to...the...Elven lands...now. If it...if the Powers’ll....allow it....I....want...you....to go....in my place.’

Rose’s eyes widened as his words’ sunk in, ‘Ye want me to go to the Undying Lands?’

Sam nodded, ‘Aye.’

‘Have ye gone completely daft, Sam Gamgee?’ Rose asked, then added, ‘Why would ye want me to leave the Shire, our home and to say nothing of our children?’

Sam closed his eyes, ‘Because....Mr. Frodo.....is waiting....for....me....and I....won’t be....able...to go now...Mordor’s....revenge....is upon....me....at....last. Please...Rosie....I...promise him...I...come.....one....day.’

‘But how?’ she asked, ‘Ye said that Master Frodo and Master Bilbo were both allowed to go because they were Ringbearers, as you were for a little while. I never touched, nor carried the Ring. How can I be allowed to go?’

‘Queen...Arwen....was....permitted....to....give her....place...on the ship....to Mr. Frodo....so he....could seek....healing....in....the...West. You.....must....try....as....well.’

Rose was about to argue further would she saw that Sam was further slipping away from them, and so she stood up, ‘I’m going to fetch the children.’ She was to the door when he said weakly again.

‘Promise...me....you’ll...try...Rosie...’

Rose didn’t look back but said, ‘I can make no such promise, Sam.’

With that she brought in their children and grandchildren, each given a brief moment to kiss Sam’s beloved brow and say their farewells to him. As soon as Frodo’s youngest daughter, still a faunt, had kissed her granddad’s brow, Sam had closed his eyes, quickly falling into a deep sleep from which he would not awaken again.

Rose had refused to leave Sam’s side during the night, and during the wee hours of the next morning when it became clear he was about to leave them, she called in their children and grandchildren. After Frodo along with his brother Merry had helped to settle the weaken form of her husband into her arms, Rosie nodded, and the room was will filled with a soft gentle song of spring time. For a time she sang with her children and grandchildren, as she gently caressed her husband’s face and brow.

Then when she could sing no more, she leaned close to his ear, and in a grief tainted voice she whispered, ‘I promise, beloved. I’ll go seek Mr. Frodo out for ye.’ Tears streamed down her face as she said, ‘Ye rest now, my love. I’ll seek him out.’

Author's Notes

I have taken the terms "the gaffer's old friend" from my good friend Lindelea's stories and given it my own twist. Daisy Gardner, Frodo's wife, who is mentioned by name is also in a way taken from her stories. ny and all words or Shire terminology that resembles Lindelea's is not meant as plagarism but rather I mean it to be a tribute to her writings, as my way of saying thanks for all the wonderful stories she's shared with us over the last few years.