Chapter Three: Rare Souls

When Merry wrote to ask Sam to come to see to some ailing plants near Buckland, the gardener debated whether he should or not. He didn’t want to leave Rosie or Frodo, especially when Rosie was still somewhat ill from early pregnancy, but they both insisted.

“Your fame as a gardener is growing,” Frodo said with a smile and a distinct tone of pride and love. “I’ll take care of Rosie, Sam. Don’t you fret. And she will take of me. We’ll be fine. It’s only a week.”

“I’m sure it’s not that urgent,” Sam said. “Or maybe we could all go. You could see Mr. Merry...”

Frodo’s features clouded. “That would be wonderful, Sam, but you know I don’t like being out after dark anymore and Rosie is still recovering. We’d be better off right here, but do tell Merry and Pippin - I assume he’ll be around - hello for me and give them my love.”

“Go, my Sam,” Rosie said. “Frodo is right. We’ll be fine.”

Sam then agreed to go, but still not without reservations. He kissed Rosie goodbye at the door and Frodo walked with him down to the gate.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Sam asked. “It’s that hard to be seeing Rose sick, but I know it’s natural for lasses in her condition. I’m know just as well it’s not natural for you to still be suffering what you are.”

Frodo’s featured twitched, then he smiled bravely. “Gandalf told me it would take a while to heal, but you and Rose have helped me so much.” He smiled fuller when he saw his Sam still so hesitant. “I’ll be fine, dearheart. It’s nowhere near the 6^th or the 13^th. I haven’t had a nightmare in two months. I’ll make sure I continue walking, I’ll eat everything Rose sets before me and I promise I won’t write past luncheon. I’ll even wash between my toes.”

Sam laughed out loud at the last, treasuring the mischievous glint in his brother’s eyes and in his voice. “Then I suppose you’ll be all right.”

Frodo embraced his beloved guardian and kissed his cheek. He savored the feel of the return embrace as Sam’s strong arms enfolded him and stored it in his memory for the days ahead he wouldn’t be feeling it.. “Be careful,” he murmured. “I can live without you for a week, but I don’t know how much I could bear beyond that.”

Sam’s doubts about leaving all rushed back as they reluctantly let go of each other. Frodo saw his friend’s indecision return and gave him a gentle shove with a laugh. “Get going, dearest ninnyhammer. The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll be back and the happier we all will be. I miss you already.”

When Sam still looked reluctant, Frodo turned him around and pushed him down the road. “Go,” he said softly. Sam did, but looked back to see his brother still standing at the gate. The elder hobbit waved and Sam waved back still a little uncertainly. Frodo remained standing until his friend disappeared from sight. He removed his hand from the fence post when he realized it was trembling, then he told Rose he was going to spend some time in the garden.

He spent most of the time his brother was away there because it made him feel closer to him. His gaze was often fixed on the gate, anxiously awaiting Sam’s return. He and Rose took all their meals there and Frodo, as promised, ate everything laid before him. Neither he or Sam had commented on the fact that with Frodo’s stomach still delicate at times and Rose’s even more so, that there was not much eaten anyway so it was an easy promise to keep. He tried working on the book, but found the memories were too much without Sam there to help banish them. Instead, he found another book and sat down to read, something he hadn’t done in a long time, and rediscovered that simple joy. He would have stayed in the garden even at night, but it was too frightening for him to be outside after dark.

He discovered, though, that staying away from writing was not enough to keep the demons that plagued him away. Rosie came to him the second night after Sam had left when his nightmares returned and he cried out for Sam. She held aloft a small light. “Mr. Frodo? Are you all right?”

Frodo was on his knees, his legs tangled in blankets. His right elbow was raised above him and his arm was pointed down as though he was holding something in that grip. His left was clutched near the side of the bed like he was holding something down. The rage and hatred on his face as he plunged his right arm down frightened Rose, but then it changed so quickly she wondered if she had even seen it. The next look broke her heart.

“Sam! Oh, no, Sam!” Frodo cried, terror clearly visible on his features.

“He’s not here right now, Mr. Frodo,” Rose said softly. “Remember he...”

Frodo collapsed and began to weep. He clutched the gem around his neck convulsively. “I killed him, didn’t I, Rose? Just now.”

Rose sucked in a surprised breath as Frodo’s tormented eyes met hers. He reminded her suddenly of an injured bird she had found once in the garden. It had looked up at her with much the same pain and fright in its eyes and she had so wanted to help it. She set the light down and took him gently into her arms just as she had the injured little bird. She did not think about whether it was her place to do so or not. It just seemed the right, only thing to do.

“No, of course you didn’t, Mr. Frodo,” she soothed, rocking him gently as she knew she would her children one day. “He’s gone for a few days to Buckland, remember? He’ll be back, safe and sound, you’ll see. You haven’t hurt him at all. I know you never would. Did you dream you had?”

Frodo didn’t answer for a long time, just shivered in his sweat-soaked nightshirt. Rose didn’t think he would ever respond and was just about to apologize for being so forward, but then very softly, so softly she had to strain to hear it, he whispered, “Yes.”

“You didn’t though. ’Twas only a bad dream.” She held him a little longer, until he stopped shaking, then let go. “My Sam still has nightmares himself sometimes.”

Frodo looked up at her sharply in concern.

“He won’t talk about it much,” Rosie said. “I know he doesn’t want to worry me. ‘It’s over now,’ he’ll say.” She looked directly at Frodo now, stunned by her own forwardness, but wanting to help. “But it’s not over, is it, Mr. Frodo? All the things that hurt you and him may be gone from this world, but they are still hurting you all the same, aren’t they?”

There was another long pause and Rose bit her lip, convinced that she had truly gone too far. Frodo stared at the light she brought in, not nearly enough to drown the darkness that still clawed at him. “Yes, Rose, they are,” he said finally. “I’m sorry.”

Rosie reached out to touch his arm. “Oh, no, Mr. Frodo. I’m the one that’s so sorry. You have done so much for us and it’s not fair that you still suffer so cruelly.” Tears shone bright in her eyes.

“It’s all meant to be somehow, Rose,” Frodo said in a weary voice. “I’m trying to get well, but... It’s not easy without Sam being here,” he finished.

Rose tightened her grip on his arm. “Just keep trying, Mr. Frodo. That’s all we want - Sam and I and Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin. We just want you be happy and healthy again.”

Frodo was moved by her words. “That’s all I want, too. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Rose smiled. “We told Sam we’d look out for each other, didn’t we? I’ll get you some of that tea he always makes for you. Perhaps that will help you sleep better.”

Frodo smiled “Thank you, Rose. I’m sorry to be such trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Mr. Frodo. Just sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

The light disappeared with her and Frodo almost panicked, but Rosie returned soon enough and he gratefully accepted the mug of camomile she handed him. She sat down as he sipped it slowly. His good hand shook badly though and he nearly spilled it. His maimed hand he tried to keep under the covers. Rose bit her lip to see he was still ashamed of it.

He finished the tea and looked gratefully up at Rose. “Thank you for coming to check on me, Rose. I’m sorry you had to.”

“As I said it was no trouble, Mr. Frodo. I’ll just sit here with you if you don’t mind until you get back to sleep.”

The best smile yet graced Frodo’s lips and Rose smiled back, glad to see it. “Thank you,” he said. “You are a true friend, Rose. Sam is so lucky to have married you.”

“I’m just as lucky, Mr. Frodo.”

“We both are, aren’t we? A rare soul is Samwise Gamgee. A rare soul.”

“Like attracts like, Mr. Frodo.”

Rose smiled as she took the mug from him as Frodo settled back under the covers and closed his eyes. Rose watched him, struck by the way the moonlight illuminated his pale face. He was half in its light, half in shadow. She grieved for how far into the darkness he had gone, but the half that was in the light was beautiful. How she wished he could live entirely in the light as he had once done, as they had all done. When she was sure he was asleep, she leaned down, brushed at his curls and kissed his brow before quietly leaving the room.

The next night and the ones following, she also spent soothing him.

The evening Sam returned, Frodo was waiting at the gate. He embraced his dearest friend and held him for a long time, not speaking, but with joy and relief radiating out from him. Sam returned the embrace, sensing all that, but also the tension that only now was releasing itself. His brother’s eyes looked more tired and pained than before too and Sam knew he should have paid more attention to his doubts about leaving, even though he had been successful and had felt good about that. Rose greeted him when he entered Bag End with an embrace and kiss and smile, but her sorrow when she glanced at Frodo, then her husband, wasn’t missed.

At dinner that night, Frodo kept looking at Sam with a smile, like a child who was overjoyed that his father had returned from a long trip. The younger hobbit wished that was all there was to that, but he well knew no child would or should have the haunted look that was in his brother’s eyes, more deeply shadowed now than before.

As Sam and his wife lay in bed that night, he squeezed her hand and kissed her quickly. “Thank you for that delicious supper, my Rose. It was wonderful to return to all my favorites.”

“Thank Mr. Frodo. He was cooking all afternoon. He wouldn’t let me do a thing.”

Sam smiled. “Then I’ll have to thank him in the morning.” He smile faded when he spoke next.

“How have you two been?”

“You saw how happy he was tonight and how well he ate.”

“And how well you did. Is your sickness passing then?”

“I think so.”

“I am that glad to hear that, but there’s more isn’t there? I saw how he looked underneath. He’s not doing as well, is he?”

Rose hesitated only a moment. She would have shielded him from it if she could have, but Sam’s heart was not blind. “He’s been having nightmares almost every night,” she said quietly. “I’ve sat with him until he goes back to sleep. It’s so warm in that room I don’t know how he can sleep, but whenever I went to open the window, he begged me not to. He said he was cold and that ‘I don’t want them to come’.” She looked up at her husband. “Who’s ‘them’?”

Sam didn’t want Rose to know everything that he and Frodo had had to endure. Such a gentle lass shouldn’t know such things even existed. But then again, such a gentle soul as his brother’s shouldn’t have had to known either. “Black Riders,” he said. “They were after him before, but they’re gone now.”

Rose waited for him to say more, but knew he wouldn’t. She had comforted him when he had woken from his own nightmares, never knowing exactly what he had woken him, apart from what she could gather when he called out in sleep, mostly in warning to Mr. Frodo.

“He almost never lets go of that gem around his neck. I know you said it was supposed to help him, but I wish you could talk to me about it. Keeping it all inside is not going to help him. Nor is keeping all your hurts inside going to help you.”

Sam agreed, but he still didn’t want to share anything with Rose. She was so full of light, just like Frodo had once been. He didn’t want to see it dimmed like his had been. He leaned over and kissed her head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, my Rose. It’s over.”

Rose would not be placated. It frightened her to even guess what they had had gone through. She was tired of imagining the worst. “But it’s not, my Sam. It’s not! It’s tormenting him just as bad and it’s still hurting you. I know you want to protect me, but who is protecting you? We both want to protect him, but there are things and places he goes to that frighten me. In one of his dreams, he killed you.”

Sam paled, then took her into his arms as she began to cry. “Hush, my Rose, shhh. Don’t you cry. I don’t want you to think about it. We had a rough time of it, but we came back. That’s the important part.”

“I don’t think Mr. Frodo came back, Sam. I think he’s still there, where ever you were. I know you are trying to pull him back here, but something is preventing that. If I knew more about it, maybe I could help. I can’t stand it anymore than you can that he is still hurting so much, that you are still hurting.”

“I just want us all to forget about it.”

“I can’t. He can’t. You can’t. After he woke up each night, we talked a little while he drank his tea and he’s the most perfectly mannered gentlehobbit there is, but he won’t talk about what I can see burning in his eyes and my heart breaks for it. He got to be closing his door when he’d retire so I wouldn’t hear him cry out, but after he was asleep, I’d open it again so I would hear him.”

Sam smiled. “That’s my Rose,” he said with pride and love and thanks. “Thank you for taking care of him so well.”

“He took good care of me, too. Made all the breakfastses and the elvenses. But please, Sam, let me do something. I love him too.”

Sam looked tenderly into his wife’s earnest, tear-bright eyes and his love for her soared until he though his heart would burst from it. But he could not give her what she wanted. “Don’t ask me more about it, dearest. I can’t tell you. I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want you to ever know all that happened, it’s just too awful. But I will tell you one thing, my Rose. Through it all, I thought of you. I was not going to go back to the Shire without Frodo, but I was not fighting just for him, but to come back to you. And he was fighting for all of us.” Sam’s voice began to hitch with his own tears.

Rose sank her head into her husband’s chest and held him. “I know, my Sam, I know. I do not begrudge you or him that at all. I am glad you were there for him. There are no luckier hobbits than him and me because you love us so much. He talked of little but you while you were gone. He loves you so much.”

“I love him,” Sam said. “I should have never left, but he seemed to be doing better. I thought...” His voice trailed off. “I’m not going to leave again. Not until he’s better.”

“Perhaps he’ll sleep better now that you’re back.”

“Perhaps.”

Sam feel asleep in his wife’s arms with that hope in his heart and plea on his lips. It was not long before a moan from his brother’s bedroom shattered it.