Grey ships pass

***I have never been very good at writing Sam's character, so I hope I did him and Rosie justice for the readers of this chapter. This chapter has Sam and Rosie after Frodo travels to the undying lands. It is like a second chapter, but either of the chapters can go on their own (for now anyway). This chapter was made on a request by a reader of it so I hope they still like it, for I seem to have developed a knack for writing first chapters that readers enjoy, but then screwing the story up on the second chapter so.***

Sam had never felt such grief in his heart before as he did now, not even in Mordor. For in Mordor there was still a chance of Frodo coming back with him, or both of them perishing together. But now there was nothing there. Frodo had left, over the Seas to the undying lands, never to return to Middle-earth again. Sam sighed. It had been two days since he had arrived home, and, even after Rosie had put Elanor on his lap, and they had finished eating supper, Sam couldn’t adjust. He couldn’t seem to accept that Frodo was gone forever, he understood it, and he knew it was for the best, but he still couldn’t accept it.

Rosie had said he was merely grieving over the loss of a loved one, and would find comfort and peace soon, but Sam did not see where. He remembered how much he had wished to go with Frodo into the undying lands, how much he still wanted to, but he could not. Not yet at least, not until Elanor was grownd Rnd Rose had been laid to rest, only then could he follow in his Masters wake.

He felt even more grieved to know that Bilbo would pass with him, and then die in the undying lands, leaving Frodo with only Gandalf for comfort, and then, one day, Frodo will follow. perhaps even before Sam has a chance to sail after him. He shook his head to clear these thoughts from it, and, picking up a little stone, he tossed it into the water in front of him, and watched slowly as the ripples grew larger, and disappeared. *So much like Mr. Frodo* Sam thought. *Goes on a huge journey and saves all of Middle-earth till he’s the most famoustest of hobbits, and then he disappears forever over the Seas into the West, leavin’ no more ’n a memory captured in his book of his great deeds for Middle-earth.*

When Frodo had boarded the ship, Sam had watched him. He had watched every step that Frodo had taken until at last he stopped by the one of the great vast sides and turned to look down on them again. Sam remembered how tears had flooded down his face when he had seen Frodo looking down at them from the ship, how Frodo had not cried, but merely smiled down at them. *That smile wasn’t a true smile* Sam thought. It was one of those smiles that people give each other for comfort, in a hopelessly sad situation.

The sun began to set over the hills on the other side of the pond, and Sam knew that it was time for him to return home to Bag-end. To Rosie. He stood up slowly, brushing off his clothes, which had bits of grass clinging to them. He gave the tree he had been leaning his back against, one of the new ones, a loving pat, remembering the Lady Galadirel who was the reason that this tree had grown so big and strong. He tilted his face towards the sky, taking it all in. It was dark with rain clouds, which were soon thrown into shades of pink and orange by the setting sun, and a strong breeze blew tried its best to blow them away, but they blanketed the sky.

Sam took in a deep breath, the fresh scents of rain and grass filling his nose, and relaxing his body. He stood like that for some time, ignoring the rain that had begun to pelt down on his face, just letting allowing the rain to relax him, and, for now, wash away all his troubles. *The rain will do the flowers some good, they have needed this.* Sam thought quietly to himself, ignoring the cold breeze that sent the rain pelting towards one side. As the rain washed down him, he remembered the times in Mordor when there had been little or no water, and how dry and fuzzy and thick his tongue had felt in his own mouth. He moved his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It was no longer dry, had not been for over a year, but right now it felt rather thick. He opened his mouth and allowed the rain to drop into his, filling his mouth and running against his tongue. He closed his mouth again and swallowed the rain water down, feeling it wash down his throat. *Like the water that washed Mr. Frodo away.* He thought. The thoughts of Frodo re-entered his mind, and he remembered that Frodo was still out on the Sea. *This rain is coming down strongly, and its no mistake.* He thought. *It will make the journey difficult for them I imagine.* He stared out at the pond, which was rippling with every little drop that hit it, and little waves were sweeping across it with every blow of the wind. The sun was now so low in the sky it was barely casting any light to see.

Sam stood there until he was comply aly and thoroughly soaked to the bone, before starting on his way home. He passed a few hobbits holding bags and things over their heads, clearly caught in the downpour on their ways home, and nodded to a few, but never spoke to any. He passed the jailhouse where, for the time being, they were keeping Ted Sandyman, and the other hobbits that had gone over to the Ruffians. He remembered having helped escort several of the hobbits in there, ignoring their curses, and the the few particularly nasty ones he would respond to them “If I were you I would not be cursing, but thanking Mr. Frodo for insisting on that you keep your lives, for I know plenty of hobbits who would gladly have your heads for what you did, and they wouldn’t be kind about it, make no mistake.” This had merely caused them to grumble more, and curse Frodo, which, if Frodo had not spoken against it, would have earned them a well deserved punch in the face.

He was shivering slightly now for the wind had picked up, but he ignored it and continued his way towards Bag-end. He started slightly when it thundered, and realised that he would need to get home soon, or it would not be safe for him any more. But even with these thoughts in his head, he could not get his feet to move any faster, and it took him a good fifteen minutes more before he reached Bag-end.

Light poured out of the open door way as he walked up Bag-end, and Sam saw Rosie stan the there, Elanor in her arms, an anxious look on her face. Heedless of the weather, she rushed out to Sam’s side to see if he was alright. She led him inside, closing the door behind them, and, once sure that he was alright, she scolded him for being out this late in weather like this, and insisted that he go change his close right now. He did not argue (he had planned on doing that anyway) and headed off down one of the many halls of Bag-end to where his and Rosie’s room was.

He pulled out some fresh, warm clothes, and began to undress. He was halfway done taking off his shirt when he thought he heard a noise. He paused, listening. There it was again. But Sam recognised the sounds as tea cups and some-such being set out, and continued getting changed.

When he came out, he headed towards the bathroom, grabbing a thick towel, he dried off his hair, face, arms, and feet, knowing that he had probably already trailed a good deal of mud down the halls of Bag-end, and not wanting to create a bigger mess. When he was finished he went down the hall, and was about to head towards the kitchen, when Rosie came out and stopped him. She hustled him into the sitting area, setting him up in a warm chair in front of the fire, and insisted he stay there.

He obeyed her, not at all in the mood to argue, and allowed her to rush back and forth from the kitchen bringing in tea and some pound cake for them. She sat down with Elanor on her lap, and was just about to take a sip of her tea, when there was a loud rumble of thunder outside, and a great flash of sheet lighting, causing Elanor to begin crying. Rosie let out an exasperated sigh and started to soothe her, but Sam stood up, taking Elanor from her lap, and taking her in his own arms. Elanor did not cry often, and it was easy to soothe her. She was soon fast asleep in his arms, one of her tiny thumbs in her mouth. Rosie smiled tiredly, stood up and took the sleeping Elanor from him, insisting he sit back down, she took Elanor off to her room.

Sam sat, and took a sip of tea and a bit of pound cake, not so much out of thirst or hunger, but as something to do. Rosie returned a few minutes later, sat, and took a sip of her tea, staring anxiously at Sam. Sam was used to this, but it still made him uncomfortable having Rosie worry over him so much when he had assured her many times before that he was fine. She continued with her anxious stare. Well one more time couldn’t hurt. He set his tea cup down, and turned to face Rose.
‘Rosie, you needn’t worry abou’ me so, it hurts me to think of you here worryin’ abou’ me like that’ Rosie’s face grew weary suddenly and her eyes, dark and sad.
‘I am sorry Sam, but your always going off into the woods or some-such alone, and you are not even accepting help from those who care most about you.’ These last words startled Sam, and his face blanked. ‘The gaffers sending me letters daily, if not coming to visit, he scolds you something awful, but its obvious how concerned he is about you. And Fredegar Bolger, has been very worried about you. We have tried to comfort you Sam, but you just pull away farther from us, and no one seems able to reach you!’ Rosie’s voice was high, and full of distress, but Sam did not notice this. These words cut deep at Sam, and an anger he couldn’t explain welled inside him. He jumped from his chair suddenly, backing away from Rosie like a cornered animal. Rosie looked slightly surprised at this act, but continued talking, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
‘All you do is go off and think of Frodo!’ She said, a little harsher than she had meant to ‘and you are neglecting everything else, instead of looking after your life, your family, yourself, you are trying to look after one who does not need your looking after any more, and who is out of your reach!’ Rosie felt anger and desperation rising inside of her. She had to make Sam understand!
‘Frodo is gone Sam! Yookeooked after him all through Mordor, perhaps more than was necessary!’ The words poured out of her mouth before she could stop them, then bounced off the walls and fell to the floor, leaving a loud ringing in both hobbits ears. Sam backed up further, a horrified look on his face as the words sunk in.
‘You don’t know---You don’t understand what it was like--’ he said, staring at her as though she was an orc about to close in for the kill.
‘I don’t understand because you won’t tell me!’ She said, trying to repair the damage her last words had done. This seemed to work, for the wild look left Sam’s eyes, and he sank to his knees on the ground, and began to sob uncontrollably. Rosie felt retched for making Sam, her dear, sweet, loving Sam, cry. She rushed over to his side, and put her arms around him, whispering soothing words to him, until at last he looked up, eyes red and puffy.

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and looked at Rosie with a look of such desperately sad guilt, that Rosie felt as if someone was ripping her heart out.
‘I’m so sorry Rosie m’dear’ he said, his voice cracked from crying. She hushed him again.
‘Do not apologize Sam, you did nothing wrong, I should not have said such things, but I did not want to lose you, you were pulling away out of my reach... like Frodo did.’ She remembered how Frodo had slowly slipped away, locking himself in his study, but never getting much work done, never spending much time with anyone or doing anything accept staring out the window into the yards of Bag-end.
‘And I refuse to let you go!’ She said, louder than she had meant, causing Sam to jump and smile at her.
‘Rose, thank ee,’ you are just what a weary mind such as mine needs right now...’ He trailed off, and though the comment made Rosie feel better, but she still needed to comfort Sam, to get to to finally confide in her the full details of his and Frodo’s struggles in Mordor, though she knew she would never fully understand.
‘Now Sam’ she said, mg sug sure her voice was soft and kind. She leaned Sam’s head against her shoulder, and he let her.
‘You are grieving over the loss of Mr. Frodo, I understand that, and you will always miss him, until...’ she trailed off as the words caught in her throat. She could not bare the thought of Sam following him, but knew that, if she did not die first, she would have to allow Sam to sail after Frodo.
‘until you are reunited.’ She said blandly. ‘But even so, it does not do well you you to pull away so, Mr. Frodo did, and it did not do him much good, though I understand that he was suffering from worse hurts than I can understand.’ She said, interrupting Sam as he opened his mouth to speak. ‘But. if you let me, I can try to ease the pain.’ She felt Sam choke back a sob against her, and held him tighter.
‘But to help, I need to know so I can understand better.’ She chose her words carefully, knowing full well that she was treading on dangerous ground. She felt Sam sigh against her, and after a few more minutes of silence she spoke again.
‘Tell me, what happened to you and Frodo in Mordor?’ She waited patiently as Sam leaned against her, silent, clearly choosing his words. Then he began to tell her the tale of the One Ring, how Sauron had forged it, how Mr. Bilbo had found it in Gollums cave, how it had passed on to Frodo, and Gandalf had found out what it truly was. How they had escaped the Shire from Crickhollow after conspiring against Mr. Frodo, and how the black riders had pursued, about Old man Willow, and Tom Bombadil, and Goldberry, of the Barrowweights, and their meeting of Strider. Of how Frodo was stabbed, and their journey to Rivendel. The waiting and uncertainty as they healed Frodo, how glorious it was when he awoke, the council of Elrond, the forming of the fellowship. Of the journey to Moria, and the Balrog. The Golden wood, and Lady Galadriel, the journey down the river, how Boromir had attacked Frodo, and then Frodo had made to set out on his own, while Boromir tried to save Pippin and Merry. How he had only just caught Frodo in time, about meeting Gollum, and the journey to the black gates. Then the rest of the journey to Mordor, and what the other had told them, though Rosie had not asked abthatthat.

When he finished he did feel better, and Rosie understood better the horrors they had gone through, the bond they had developed between them, and she felt despair, hope, and confusion in her heart.
‘My dear Samwise.’ She said, slowly ‘I thank you, for I know that could not have been easy for you to repeat. Now I do understand better the trials you have gone through, and I hope that I will be able to help you better.’ She knew she sounded formal, but that was the way with hobbits usually. She stood up, and grabbed one of Sam’s hands, and helping him to his feet.
‘Now the real healing can begin.’ She said. Sam looked at her funnily for a second, before nodding.
‘The real healing.’ He said quietly, and the two exhausted hobbits made their way down to their bedroom for a goodnights sleep.

***ok, if you liked this chapter, please review and let me know. I dont know if im going to make another chapter, i wasnt originally planning on even making a second chapter, this was only supposed to be a short story, but i may continue on with this if people are enjoying reading it and would like to see it continued.***