Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive

All the next day, Sam moved doggedly from one task to another; cleaning and straightening, sweeping and polishing. After elevenses, he took up a gathering basket and went out to the garden. Using the hand clippers, Sam snipped some late-season blooms from his beloved rose bushes; some sunny yellow, and others white as fluffy clouds. Thinking they would make a lovely centerpiece for the table tonight, Sam took the blooms inside to the kitchen sink. Rummaging deep inside the pantry cupboard, he discovered a pretty vase of cobalt blue glass. In his mind's eye, Sam could remember seeing it in the center of the round wooden table many times over the years, always filled with fresh blooms; bright-eyed daisies, cheerful-faced pansies, nodding daffodils, or some other wild flowers, arranged in colorful profusion. Filling the vase with clear, fresh water, Sam arranged the delicate flowers in the vessel, cheerfully singing a bit of nonsense to himself as he worked. When finished, he placed the arrangement in the center of the table and stood back, eyeing it critically.

Next, Sam moved over to where the old kitchen stove stood, warm and homey, and awash with the heady scents of woodsmoke and roasting meat. Sam bent to open the door and check on the progress of supper, then went to the counter to put the finishing touches on a delightful-smelling apple cake. He sprinkled the cake with a generous dusting of freshly-ground cinnamon, then covered it with a clean, white tea-towel, to keep until after supper. Heaving a contented sigh, Sam passed through to the sitting room and sank gratefully into his favorite chair, deep and soft, to rest and wait.

Later, as the sun began to cast long, late afternoon shadows on Hobbiton, Sam emerged from his bedroom, having washed hands and face, and put on a clean tunic. As he moved along the hall, there came a pull on the front door-bell, which Sam had been expecting. Lifting the latch, Sam opened the large, round door with an expectant smile. It was mirrored in the cheeful round faces looking back at him from the doorstep.

"Things are smelling wonderful in here!" announced Pippin enthusiastically, bright eyes sparkling. There he stood, a head above Sam, who had to look up at both Pippin, and Merry who was standing beside him. Merry grinned tolerantly.

They ducked their heads a bit as they entered the doorway, then straightened and looked around them with familiar eyes. Sam pushed the door firmly closed behind them, then bid Merry and Pippin to remove their grey cloaks, which he hung carefully on pegs near the door. Leading the way, Sam preceeded his guests down the hall towards the kitchen.

"Homey as ever," Pippin pronounced with a happy sigh, though Merry privately thought there was an air, however slight, of distance, maybe, about the place, as if everything belonged to another, older time, much like a museum.

"Sit yourselves down then;everything's ready." Sam bustled about with purpose, setting the meat dish on the table, along with a warm loaf of brown bread, fresh creamy butter in a cold crockery dish, and a huge platter mounded high with succulent, steaming mushrooms. This was accompanied by a plate of freshly grilled tomatoes and a steaming pot of tea, with sugar and cream nearby. Sam sat down across from his guests, and the hobbits set to with relish. For a long while the house was quiet but for the sounds of silverware clicking and scraping on plates. At last, Pippin washed down his last mouthful with the dregs of tea remaining in his mug and gave a satisfied sigh.

"Surely! seeing as how this is a celebration" Sam replied, his cheeful voice belying the thoughtful expression on his face. "Why don't you both relax a bit in the sitting room, while I brew us a fresh pot of tea to go with. Besides, I've something to show you I think will be of interest, if you don't mind my saying."

"Certainly, Sam!" Merry replied with an eager smile. Both guests pushed their chairs back from the table and rose to their feet. "We'll just go on through, and you come along when you're ready." Merry turned and moved off after Pippin into the room beyond.

After putting the tea to brew in a potful of fresh hot water, Sam joined his company in the sitting room, where he found them doing just that, in the soft, comfy chairs before the fire, which was blazing cozily in the hearth.

"As I said, I've something to show you; rather fitting, considering the occasion," Sam called over his shoulder. Sinking to his knees in front of an old wooden chest which resided under the window facing the garden, he lifted the lid and reached inside. Rising to his feet and straightening, Sam turned towards the companions, an eager smile lighting his face. They observed in Sam's hands a large book with a red leather cover. Their eyes brightened as they realized Sam held Bilbo's book containing their adventures of so many years ago. "I've kept it safe and sound these many years. Now I think it's time you both took another gander at it."

Merry took into his hands the book which Sam held out to him, and opened the front cover. There were the well-remembered words written out first in Bilbo's spidery hand, followed by Frodo's firm, flowing script. After searching through a few pages, with Pippin looking on over his shoulder, Merry turned to the back of the book. There he found a page bearing the title

"You've put in the departure of Frodo's ship, and all the happenings of the Shire these many years; all our comings and goings to visit Strider and Arwen too!" he cried delightedly. Sam blushed.

"Well, Master Merry, you've hit the mark there, I'm thinking." Sam gazed thoughtfully at the two friends pouring over the book. "As a matter of fact, I've been meaning to take another little trip of my own, you might say." Two curly heads popped up as Merry and Pippin looked at Sam expectantly. "Oh, not an adventure! No; not much of a trip, really. It's just that I've not seen my Elanor in a long while, and I've decided to ride down to the Towers for a visit."

"When will you go?" inquired the Thain. Neither of Sam's guests thought his plans in any way unusual, being still quite fond of travelling themselves.

"The fact is, I'm starting on my way tonight; we always were fond of travelling at night, and my boy, Bilbo, has found a pony for me to use. I've got a pack with a bit of this and that to keep me on the Road."

"We couldn't let one go by unmarked, now could we?" Sam asserted, a twinkle in his eyes. "Now you two finish looking at the Book; I'll go on out and cut the cake, and pour us some tea." Off went Sam to the kitchen, as Merry turned pages slowly, with Pippin looking on.

When Sam called, the two guests set the book aside and went through to the kitchen. All three pulled up chairs to the table, and Sam passed around plates with thick slices of cake, and filled mugs with fresh, hot tea. Looking round at each other, they raised their mugs in unison. It was Merry who spoke:

"Safe trip to you, Sam! Enjoy your visit, and tell us all the news when you return." They drank Sam's health, then setting mugs on the table, picked up their forks and began on the cake, eating with relish, and with compliments to the host. It was several helpings later until the friends said their goodnights and Sam saw them to the door. They parted with smiles, and Sam waved as they went off down the Hill into the gathering twilight.


<< Back	Next >>
Leave Review
Home Search Chapter List

A Gardener's Tale by Elentari Greenwood