Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee.

"Mr. Frodo?"

I didn't mean to overhear. I was just... It's what I do, watching over him. Sometimes I do slip up and just watch him. But I didn't mean to overhear. I wouldn't, not me. If I hadn't overheard, I wouldn't have been sent on this grandiose mission, bound by my promise to follow him wherever he goes.

I'm glad I overheard.

"Are you alright, Frodo?"

Merry is minding Pippin, who laid down and curled up like a leaf when we finally stopped far enough away from the Mines. Legolas is pacing lightly, the slight furrow of his brow the only indication that he is upset about Gandalf. But Frodo, he just kept going until he got to the end of the boulder overlooking the valley, and now he just stands there, quietly breaking inside. Aragorn tried, but only met upset silence. And so he sent me.

"He'll let you in, Samwise."

I hope so. He's been breaking since we left the Shire, little by little; I'd sure hate to lose him completely to this. I promised, you see.

I sit down next to him, head cocked forward to look at his face. Bracing myself comes naturally now, every time I need to look his way, or just choose to. But his eyes don't meet mine and I am almost relieved. A single tear has burned its way down his face, the tiny rivulet now dry, scarring the flawless curve of his dirty cheek. I wring my hands and look away. Moments later, Frodo leans in and rests his head on my shoulder, piercing eyes still locked on the scenery unfurling before us. He doesn't say anything; I would, but I don't think there's anything to be said.

Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee.

I don't mean to. I won't. Promise.