|
Confessional
I tried, Mr. Frodo, I truly did. And Mr. Gandalf, and that Elf, Mr. Gildor, both
of them now, they told me to watch for you, but I’ve failed you all. The other
Elf, that knew Srider, Mr. Glorfindel, he put you on that great white horse as
those devils came down on us again, and cried something to it, and you were
gone, with those black horrors at your back. How he expects you to stay on that
great beast, sick as you are, I’ll never know. We’re following you as fast as
ever we can, Mr. Frodo, but I’m so afraid I’ll never see you again. Oh, keep
him, Lady, please keep him.
Once, I could keep you. In the Shire, I knew what to do. There you were like the
finest lily as needs only a bit of tending and grows as beautiful as anything
ever can. Just maybe an eye on the pantry or a helpful arm home from the Green
Dragon on occasion (and that worked both ways, as well you know, Mr. Frodo).
Maybe some company of an evening when you wanted to share the poem you’d just
worked out. Maybe some company in the garden when you would come out to try the
latest bit of translation on me. But it were never that much that I did, just be
there.
So when Mr. Gandalf caught me at the window (oh, I felt badly on that, but I
just had to know, Mr. Frodo) and told me I’d be going with you, I was mostly
thinking of the food and pans and such. Of course, I was glad and excited about
seeing some of those places and folk out of the tales you and Mr. Bilbo used to
tell, but mostly I was thinking about such supplies as we might need on the way,
and how there likely might not be many good inns on the road we’d be taking.
Then Mr. Gandalf called me aside, right before he left in a great rush that day,
and looking right directly at me from under that big hat of his, he said to me,
“Samwise Gamgee, you take good care of Frodo, now.”
It always made me right nervous when he looked at me like that, but I answered
quick as ever. “Of course I will, Mr. Gandalf, I always do.”
“Hmmm,” he says, and keeps staring at me. “He’ll be needing you in ways he’s
never needed you before, Sam. You stick with him, now.”
Well, wizard or no, this advise seemed pretty pointless to me. “As if I ever
wouldn‘t, beggin’ your pardon, Mr. Gandalf,” I answered him, a trifle sharp.
He gave a little smile at that. “I thought not,” he says softly, and that was
all he said.
Then there was that night, while we were still in the Shire, that you and me and
Mr. Pippin saw the Elves. I had never though I‘d live to see such fair folk, and
I was that scared and that happy, I didn’t know which I was feelin’. But you
spoke up to them in their own tongue, and then they were so kindly to us and
well-spoken, it was a wonder to see. That night, with the food, and drink, and
singing, why I don’t have the words to say what it meant to me. It was as if we
had fallen into Mr. Bilbo’s books, and if we could have stayed there forever, I
would have been that happy. As long as I could go see the gaffer on occasion, of
course.
But like I told you the next day, Mr. Gildor pulls me aside just before the
singing had ended that night and says the same thing to me as did Mr. Gandalf,
“Don’t you leave him.”
Well, I said the same to him as I did to Mr. Gandalf, “Leave him? I don’t mean
to. I’m going with him if he climbs to the Moon, and if any of those Black
Riders try to stop him, they’ll have Sam Gamgee to reckon with.”
He laughed at that and went on, but like I told you the next day, that got me to
thinking. I knew then that there was something I was going to have to do, and it
was more than just carryin’ a pack and fixing the meals. But how could I know,
Mr. Frodo, how could I know? I still hadn’t seen those Riders myself yet, just
heard tell o’them from you and my gaffer.
But then I almost let Willow grab you in the Old Forest, and I lost you on the
Downs, and by the time we got to Bree, I was feelin’ I wasn’t much use to you at
all. I didn’t give you a warning in time about that song, as I should have, and
then I had Strider pegged all wrong, and should of kept my mouth shut and left
it up to you. Then when Strider showed us the room the next morning, and I saw
how those Riders would have murdered us in our beds if they could, I was so
frightened I didn’t know what to think. How can I protect you from those great
Men with swords, when the most as I’ve ever done is pop a coney off with a
stone? Even Bill was of more use than me, because he can carry more. It seemed
that even Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin were upset by what we saw, but you kept a
cool head, and planned our route with Strider, as if you’d run into this sort of
trouble before.
I kept my head down when we left Bree, and stayed back with Bill.
But maybe I figured out a bit of what old Mr. Gandalf was speakin’ of that night
two nights out of Bree.
It had been a long hard road that day, trying to keep up with those lanky legs
of Strider, with that fear always at our backs, and us not able to take the
common road. We had to climb those trails that weren’t made for the likes of
hobbits, and I knew both you and Strider were worried that Mr. Gandalf hadn’t
shown up. At least Bill was starting to perk up a bit.
It was late that night when we stopped, already dark, and cold food and no fire
don’t make for a pleasant evening. I remember us all sitting around wrapped
tight in our cloaks, not talkin’ much. Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin were that tired
that they didn’t even complain about the lack of a decent dinner, and nodded
right off where they sat. Strider had gone off to scout ahead. But you seemed
restless, Mr. Frodo, as if after walkin’ all day you still couldn’t sit still.
It was the most fretful I’d seen you since we left the Shire, so I was watchin’
you close.
“Sam,” you said, “come walk with me a bit. I need to think.”
“Of course, Mr. Frodo,” I answered quick as anything. “Just let me make sure
Bill’s tied down right.” But he seemed right enough, chewing on some bits of
grass. (And it just amazed me how he was fillin’ out on the grass along the way
and the pieces of apple that we could spare. That Bill Ferny has no right to any
animal, I’d say.)
You left the clearing, with me behind, but the Moon had risen bright that night,
and we could see round us well enough. We walked under a grove of beech already
losing their leaves in this northern land. Their trunks were smooth and shiny in
the moonlight, and you stopped and rested against one, and picking a small
branch off the ground, began to play with it with no mind to what you were
doing. Suddenly I was minded of when you first came to Bag End, when I was a
lad.
For all you seemed so grown up to me then, I know now you were no more than
barely a tweenager, and no-one around to talk to. So when there was something on
your mind, you’d come out in the garden and find me and talk to me, playing with
something in your hands just like this, until you got it worked out in your
head. Me, I had nothing to say that was of any use, but it made me feel so grand
that you seemed to think I was of any help. And here we were, all those years
later, and me still with no words that’d be any good.
“Don’t wizards always keep their word, Sam?” you asked softly, still staring
down at the stick. “He said he’d be back to the Shire by my birthday, and he
wasn’t, and then he wasn’t even at Bree.”
“Mr. Gandalf would have come if he could,” I answered, and then thought that was
not going to make you feel any better. “I’m sure he’ll be waiting for us at
Rivendell,” I added hastily, “and Mr. Bilbo and all those Elves will be there
too. They’ll all help you sort it out, I’m sure.”
“It’s still a long way to Rivendell,” I almost couldn’t hear you and you hadn’t
looked at me once. Then suddenly you looked right at me, your eyes dark in the
moonlight, and cried out in a voice that was full of fear such as I’d never
heard in your voice before, “ ‘Baggins‘, they said, ‘Shire’. Sam, they know my
name!”
Well, that clinched it. I never stopped to think of what my gaffer would have
said my place was, but in a moment I had my arms around you and you were trying
to hold back your cries, and all I could do was hold you tight and make what
hushing noises as I could. “Then they might as well know our names too,” I
murmured to you with what voice I could manage, ”because we’re right here with
you.” I could still feel you trembling all over, just like those beeches in a
breeze. “You ain’t alone. Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin, they’re here not just
because they’re your cousins, they’re your friends too, and they’ll stick by you
through anything. And that Mr. Strider, too, I was all wrong about him, he’ll be
right with you too.”
“And you, Sam, what about you?” You lifted your head up and looked right through
me, and I all of a sudden knew I was making a vow that I thought nothing could
ever break, and I had to tell you what my heart told me then.
“I am with you, Frodo,” I whispered, holding your hands tightly, “I’ll be with
you until all the stars fall from the skies. I‘ll always keep you safe.”
And oh your smile then. It will be set in my heart forever.
But when those devils did come for you, on Weathertop, that’s when it all fell
apart. I did naught for you, as I should have. I was that scared when those
black shapes surrounded us, I had no sense in me at all. I watched your hand
move to the Ring, and I knew it was no good, I knew I should have tried to stop
you, but I was frozen like a great stone. And then you were gone and suddenly I
could move again, but it was too late. I didn’t do naught to protect you when
you needed me.
Gandalf warned me, and Gildor too, and I knew they were coming for you, but I
failed you, Mr. Frodo. And I broke my own promise to you, and I’ll never forgive
myself for that. And if we come to Rivendell, and I find you safe again, I
promise you that I’ll never break my word to you, not if it breaks every bone in
my body and my heart besides, not ever again. You have Sam Gamgee’s word on
that.
Feedback
BACK to The Sam
Series Index
BACK to Fanfic Index
BACK to Main Page |
