Serene

Sitting cross-legged on a blanket of thick, green grass outside the massive gates of Minas Tirith while being wrapped in a thick shroud, Frodo swayed slightly to a tune only he could hear. The evening was not as chilly as it usually was, though Sam, assembled close by his side, persisted that he be sheltered at least by a sheet of a coverlet. Frodo felt serene; the nightmares from his long quest seemed distant now as they curled up under the twinkles of the stars. Sam never ceased rubbing his master’s back, sending Frodo to a sheer state of tranquility. And Frodo rested his head on the Gamgee’s shoulder, sighing deeply.

“I’m glad you’re with me, Sam.”