[mark12_30]

mark12_30's post

Frodo watched Sam as he hurried towards the threesome. The noise of the crowd abated just a little, and more than one pair of eyes turned to watch the long-awaited meeting. Frodo felt Merry and Pippin's hands on his back, softly guiding him forward towards Sam.

Sam slowed, just a little, and studied Frodo, searching his face; and Frodo did the same. Frodo's eyes lit up with pride and pleasure, and he nodded with satisfaction. Sam came forward then.

"Hello, Sam."

"Hello, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo felt about to burst with joy. "Dear Sam." They embraced, laughing, and then separated and studied one another again.

Carefully controlling his thoughts, Frodo searched Sam's eyes, and saw hope and joy, but also a touch of uncertainty and more than a little curiosity. "Sam, it's good to see you. You look splendid, Mayor Samwise."

Sam studied Frodo and sensed something odd. Frodo seemed on his guard, hesitant. Sam wondered why. "You don't need to call me Mayor, Mr. Frodo," he said conversationally. "It feels a bit odd, in a sort of way."

"Not at all. You've earned it, Sam; earned the title and the respect that goes with it, " Frodo said soothingly. "In more ways than one, " he laughed then, for a thundering herd of small children suddenly converged behind Sam. He clapped Sam's shoulder and then turned towards the children.

One by one and starting with the very youngest, Frodo spoke their names and greeted them with sparkling eyes and a warm smile: little Hamfast, Goldilocks, Pippin, Merry, Rose, Frodo, Elanor. Merry and Frodo-lad remembered to bow and say Hello; Rose and Elanor dropped lovely curtseys.

Elanor eagerly gazed deep into Frodo's eyes. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, sir, I'm so glad you've come."

"I am too, sir, " Frodo-lad piped up.

Frodo was tempted to kneel, to draw closer to them, but Elanor hardly needed that; she was surprisingly tall. He lingered over her, smiling, and heard Sam's voice at his elbow softly say, "She's been terribly eager to meet you, Mr. Frodo."

"Have you, lass?" Frodo asked, startled, and rather pleased.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Frodo, sir, " Elanor replied earnestly.

Merry and Pippin watched as the warm politeness faded from Frodo to be replaced by something else-- a softening, a restrained eagerness and hope touched with just a trace of sadness. "Well, Elanor, " he said gently, "we'll have to see if we can find some time to spend. Perhaps a walk, or a story, or a song. Perhaps all three."

Sam smiled, waiting, watching. His daughter had clearly entranced Mr. Frodo, and that delighted Sam. He watched happily as Mr. Frodo gave Elanor another smile, and then slowly studied the children. Sam waited.

Frodo felt Sam's presence beside him, and yet, somehow it was easier to focus on the children. His eyes lingered on them, noting their features, how they resembled their father. And their mother-- "Ah. Miz Rose... " His face lit up. "And how is--" He almost said "little Daisy," but he stopped himself quickly. "How is the Lady of Bag-End this evening? Miz Rose, it is wonderful to see you. You've obviously taken very, very good care of Sam. Thank you, and bless you."

Miz Rose blushed, and curtseyed, and Frodo stepped forward and took her hand, and kissed it, and then kissed her cheek.

With an effort, he turned back to Sam. Why did everyone else feel safer and less threatening than his dear Sam?

Precisely, thought Frodo, because he's not "my" Sam anymore. Let go. Let go, for mercy's sake, and let him have his life; it's brim-full as it is.

Sam wondered what the shadow was that seemed to pass over Mr. Frodo's face for a moment, but then it was gone, or seemed to be. But something still was not quite right.

He would wait, and watch, he decided. Frodo's face lit up with a merry smile, and he took Sam's arm; giving Rose a wink, he turned towards Merry and Pippin. "I suspect the Mayor could make short work of a half-pint, " Frodo said dryly.

"And I suppose, " Merry responded with equal dryness, "that like Mr. Bilbo, you suddenly expect me to play host, and get it for him."

"He is the Mayor after all, and you're keeping him waiting, Mr. Brandybuck, " Frodo replied with mock-indignation. "Now hop to, or you'll have to deal with the Mayor's representatives. What do you say to that, Merry-lad? Frodo-lad?"

Merry-lad and Frodo-lad looked at each other, and then stuck their chests out. "That's right. You will," they said. "And we're fierce, we are, " added Merry-Lad.

The taller Merry gasped in mock-terror and bolted for the bar. "Wait for me, " Pippin wildly cried and fled after him. Frodo-lad and Merry-lad gave chase, and guffawing, Frodo led Sam in their wake as smaller children eddied around their knees.

The four adventurers, surrounded by children and with curious grownups ringing the group, talked and reminisced for quite a while. But Frodo kept a close guard over his thoughts, refraining from opening up too much towards Sam in fear that he might intrude on him.

Sam perceived his hesitation and reserve, and wondered.

Orual's post:

"Come on, Sam. He's right there. It's been twelve years." Rose gave Sam a little shove on the shoulder, and Hamfast tried to copy his mother but failed. Sam turned pleading eyes to his wife, who showed no sign of pity and nodded in Frodo's direction. "If I let you decide, it'd be another twelve." Despite her pitiless words, Sam knew that she understood and was probably right.

Sam knew that the Inn's attention would be on the two of them the moment they met. Heads would turn, murmuring would begin, grins and nudges, perhaps even a few tears. He really wished that it was in a more secluded place; even as the mayor, Sam liked to do things in private, on his own. He glanced hesitantly around the room. Sure enough, more than one pair of eyes was already looking at them. Nonetheless, Sam steeled himself and walked forward.
He tried to speak, but no words came. He couldn't find any words to appropriately begin this reunion. What could he say? What would fit? What would express what he was thinking? Finally, Frodo ended his internal debate.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam almost laughed at the irony. Of course--hello always works. "Hello, Mr. Frodo," he replied.

He took a deep and--to his embarrassment--shaky breath, and tried to find something more to say, when Frodo again came to the rescue with a simple, "Dear Sam." Unable and unwilling to contain himself, Sam embraced Frodo. Hundreds of memories flooded into Sam's mind, but above all the memory of Frodo asleep in the tower of Cirith Ungol all those years ago, and the inexpressible joy that Sam had felt. He almost felt it now...but not quite. Maybe Rose was right, this was the same Frodo that he remembered--and still maybe he wasn't. He yearned to ask Frodo what it was like in the West, but felt that the question would be awkward.

"Sam, it's good to see you. You look splendid, Mayor Samwise," Frodo exclaimed when they separated. Sam tilted his head a little, strangely taken aback by Frodo's use of his title. It had finally come to sound natural from most people, and like friendly teasing from Merry and Pippin when he saw them. But from Frodo, it sounded somehow wrong. He studied Frodo more closely, and realized that Frodo didn't seem entirely comfortable, either.

""You don't need to call me Mayor, Mr. Frodo," he said conversationally, trying to mask his own discomfort. "It feels a bit odd, in a sort of way." That was putting it mildly.

"Not at all. You've earned it, Sam; earned the title and the respect that goes with it, " Frodo said soothingly. "In more ways than one," he added, as Sam's children entered the Inn, pushing and tripping over each other. Sam smiled as Elanor, Frodo, Rose, and Merry stopped short, being tripped over but not noticing. Rose put Hamfast down and he toddled over, grasping little Pippin's hand. Then she looked over at Sam as Frodo greeted the children. He nodded just a little, to say "it's going well." What he didn't add in the glance was as well as I can expect.

Elanor had approached Frodo, her blue eyes eager and adoring. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, sir, I'm so glad you've come," she said in a soft voice.

"I am too, sir, " Frodo-lad agreed, hardly containing his excitement at meeting his namesake.

"She's been terribly eager to meet you, Mr. Frodo," Sam said quietly, watching Elanor. Frodo seemed a little surprised, but overall pleased by that. They spoke for a little while, but Sam didn't really listen to the words. Elanor was so happy to meet Frodo; she had been waiting all her life. He had held her as a baby, but she didn't remember him. It had been her dream ever since she was old enough to express it to see him again. And she looked so comfortable with him, so perfectly natural. If only I could feel like that, Sam thought, and was surprised at the bitterness that he sensed in his own mind. He was happy for Elanor; it was wonderful for her to be able to get to know Frodo. Why was he bitter? He half-mindedly watched Frodo greet Rose, her cheerful blush and friendly curtsey.

But most of all, he noted the slight, almost imperceptible, hesitance with which Frodo turned back to him.

He feels as strange as I do, thought Sam. He doesn't know me anymore than I know him now. And neither of us will admit it to the other. As he thought this a brief pain crossed Frodo's face--there and gone, so quickly that Sam doubted for a moment that it had actually happened. But though twelve years had passed, he still knew Mr. Frodo well enough to tell when something was wrong. And something was wrong now.

But Frodo took Sam by the arm, smiled brightly, and turned to Merry and Pippin. "I suspect the Mayor could make short work of a half-pint," he said.

"And I suppose," Merry replied, "that like Mr. Bilbo, you suddenly expect me to play host, and get it for him." With an excellent subtlety that he had perfected over the years, Merry sent Sam a quick, puzzled look. He realized that something wasn't quite right, but didn't know for sure, and wanted Sam to tell him. Sam just shook his head a little. Frodo didn't
notice--or at least didn't seem to.

"He is the Mayor after all, and you're keeping him waiting, Mr. Brandybuck, " Frodo shot back with mock-indignation. "Now hop to, or you'll have to deal with the Mayor's representatives." Sam had to laugh at that, and hoped that that laugh was the first crack of the ice breaking. "What do you say to that, Merry-lad? Frodo-lad?"

The boys gave each other a glance and struck a strong posture, chests out and chins up. "That's right. You will," they said. "And we're fierce, we are, " added Merry-Lad.

Merry and Pippin made a show of being terrified by the boys, and were chased for a while. Finally the chase wound down, and the four adults spent some time talking. The talk was mostly just chat, with very little substance and a lot of remembering times past. But Sam noticed that Frodo was being very hesitant with what he said, being careful not to let out too much. Merry was telling a joke, so Sam took the opportunity to look around the Inn. People were still watching them, whispering, probably sharing stories that began with "Oh, I knew Frodo when...." or "I remember the time when Merry and Pippin..." or "Sam used to always..." The room was crowded, and there was hardly anywhere to go to be alone. He glanced at Frodo, who was laughing appreciatively at Merry's joke. Sam felt a pang. Would things ever be the same again?

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]