Summary: A vignette based on the scenario in
In the Garden of Middle-Earthly Delights, (originally a flashback scene taken from that story) in which Sam begins his garden in Mordor.
Categories: FPS, FPS > Frodo/Sam, FPS > Sam/Frodo
Characters: Frodo, Sam
Type: None
Warning: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 1282
Read: 1063
Published: July 26, 2011
Updated: July 26, 2011
1. Chapter 1 by Kathryn Ramage
Chapter 1 by Kathryn Ramage
From the moment Frodo understood that Sam wanted his love, he'd given it without hesitation.
It had happened one day shortly before they'd left the tower at Cirith Ungol and gone down into Mordor. From the very beginning, Sam kept the orcs busy with cleaning up the tower, finding food fit for hobbits to eat, and washing and repairing orc garments for Frodo to wear. As Sam had commanded, Frodo had been put in the "best" room--a dismal chamber with a filthy, lumpy bed and only one rather worn blanket, but an improvement over the prison where he'd previously been kept. There, Frodo's injuries had healed quickly, but it took a much longer time for him to re-cover from the shock of knowing that Sam now wielded the Ring and his fear at the prospect of what his friend would become.
He was still frightened and uncertain on that day, when Sam took him up to the great platform near the tower's top. As they stood at the parapet, looking down at the black lands of Mordor spread out beneath them, Sam told the story of how he'd come to possess the Ring, and what he'd done with it:
"I wasn't meaning to do anything, Frodo. I took the Ring from you to keep it safe, and only put it on my hand when I needed to hide. When I learned you weren't dead, I stood looking out over Mordor, wondering what to do. It looked hopeless. I was near sick thinking of you in the hands of those filthy orcs. When I looked out at that black tower beyond the Mountain of Fire-" He kept his eyes upon them as he spoke, on the dark mountain in the distance, no longer afire, and the broken top of Barad Dur, "I thought of how all of this was his fault. I hated that Sauron for what he'd done to you. I never hated anyone so much. I wished with all my might that he'd go away and be gone forever... and so he did.
"But I'm not sorry for it," Sam finished his tale almost defiantly, "not if it saved you. That's all I was thinking of when I wished for Sauron to be gone." He turned to Frodo. "You know why, don't you?"
"I think I do," Frodo answered carefully, just beginning to perceive the truth even as Sam blurted it out:
"I love you, Frodo. There, I've said it. I couldn't before. `Twasn't right. But things are different now."
"Yes, things are different," he agreed in a murmur. That much was obvious. They were no longer master and servant; Sam was master here, and he..? What was he now? A prisoner? A play-thing?
But Sam seemed to overlook his apprehension, and take his words as an encouragement. "I don't care what happens to me," he went on eagerly, "not as long as I have you. There wasn't anything I could offer you before, Frodo, but now, I can give you this." He gestured at the blighted landscape. "It's mine, to do with as I please. I'll share it with you. Oh, it isn't much to look at as it is, but once I get it fixed up proper, it'll be the prettiest place you've ever seen--as pretty as the Shire in spring. First things first: it's got to be cleaned up. A good washing, that's what it needs." He looked up at the sky and frowned, as if concentrating very hard upon it.
To Frodo's alarm, clouds began to gather overhead. A sudden wind swept up from the valley. "Are you doing that?"
Sam nodded, but did not take his eyes from the clouds, which grew darker and heavier with every second. There was a deep rumble within the depths--then, with a sudden crack, a flash of lightning split the sky. Rain started to fall. Below, the orcs in the tower were howling in terror, just as they had when Sauron was destroyed.
"Sam, stop it!" Frodo cried. "You're scaring the orcs, and me too."
The thunder stopped, but the rain continued to come down around them. Sam turned to him, suddenly contrite. "I don't want you to be afraid," he said as he caught Frodo in his arms, held him close, stroked his hair to comfort him. "Please, don't be," he whispered near Frodo's ear. "I'm still your Sam, just as I was before. I wouldn't harm you--not in a thousand years!" Then he held Frodo a little away and, cupping his face in both hands, raised his chin to look into his eyes. "You won't be frightened anymore?"
As he met Sam's eyes, Frodo found they were no different: The same hazel-brown as always, with no hint of cruelty or evil intent, only kindness, concern, and that love for him which he had not understood before. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope.
"No," he answered, "I won't be afraid."
And, very tenderly, Sam kissed him.
>From that kiss, the rest followed so swiftly that Frodo didn't believe he could have stopped it even if he'd wanted to. They were standing in the rain, Sam cupping his head while they went on kissing and, between kisses, telling him how he loved him. Then Sam said, "I shouldn't be keeping you out in this wet for so long," and the next thing Frodo knew, he'd been picked up and carried to his room. His drenched clothes were removed from him, and Sam lay him gently down on the bed. Frodo was amazed. How did Sam dare to be so bold! But this was a sign of how much things had changed between them. His Sam would have been too shy to speak to him of love. His Sam would never have swept him up so passionately. But then his Sam couldn't pull storms out of a clear sky. Who knew what this Sam would do?
Frodo couldn't say if he'd been seduced by some enchantment, or was simply dazed and overwhelmed by how fast everything was happening. Could he have stopped it? He didn't even try. Regardless of the reason, he gave himself completely... and was surprised. Whatever he'd imagined Sam would do with him, he had not expected to be handled with such careful tenderness, nor that he should experience such incredible delight because of it. All his worries for the future were put aside that night.
The rain fell throughout night and, the next morning, he awoke alone on the disordered bed. For the first time since they'd entered Mordor, bright sunlight was pouring in through the tall slits of windows.
"Frodo!" Sam was already up and dressed, standing at one of the windows and calling urgently for him to "Come and see!"
Wrapped in his blanket, teeth chattering at the morning's chill, Frodo got out of bed and went to join him. The view looked eastward, out over Mordor; the blackened lands below glistened wet in the sunlight--and, on them, he could see a dappling of fresh green. Countless shoots of new plants were pushing their way up through the ash.
"It's grass, and flowers, and maybe even trees!" Sam told him excitedly. "They must've lain sleeping for the longest time, but they're growing again! Put some clothes on, and we'll go down to have a look. They'll need tending if they're to come up right. Those orcs'll be good for some work, and there ought to be more about to give a hand." He gave Frodo a fierce, joyful hug. "I told you it'd be pretty! Just wait 'n' see what I'll do with it!"
Three months later, Mordor was in bloom.
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