'His gardener.' Well, that's what I am; nothing more, nothing less. Samwise Gamgee, son of Hamfast. Oh, but if the Gaffer could see me now. In this strange place with these strange Men, and no one else but Mr. Frodo. Even that footpad Gollum has gone, thank goodness.
Frodo is next to me, and if I'm being completely honest with myself, he's the only thing keeping me here. Were it not for him, I reckon I'd have turned and fled long ago. Although one glance at him reassures me.
I'd never say it out loud, but in my heart of hearts I sing it, day after day. Beautiful. His shirt is dirty and coming loose, and his hair is but a mess of tangled brown curls. But the Elven brooch clasps his cloak firmly around his shoulders, and his cerulean eyes are bright, alert, holding Captain Faramir's gaze steadily, neither challenging nor submitting.
But he's afraid. I can feel him trembling next to me. Oh Frodo, if only you knew. More than anything in this world, I'd like to get rid of that Thing and take you into my arms to reassure you. I would kiss that worried frown from your lips and you'd turn those wonderful eyes on me and you'd smile, just for me.
I'd whisper in your ear, telling you not to fret, for your Sam is here, and he always will be. I'll see you through. I never left your side at Rivendell, and I don't mean to now.
I may be just your gardener, but I love you.
'His gardener.' I hear those words and it is all I can do to stop my self from smiling bitterly. My dear Sam, is that all you think you are to me? A gardener, a servant. A loyal friend, perhaps. But no, to me you are so much more.
When Bilbo left, I was so lonely it was as though a gaping hole had appeared in the fabric of my very existence. Seeing you was the one thing that I looked forward to each day. And so the years waxed and waned, and I watched you grow and change. Something inside of me changed also, and I found myself in love with Samwise Gamgee.
Love. I hate to hear it, even in my head. Love is poison when it is not returned. I have told myself, again and again, that you are not here out of love. There! Those two words have proven this. 'His gardener.' You are here because of duty.
I want you so much that it aches inside of me - it started off as sharp pangs of longing, but time has weathered it into a dull, throbbing pain that I will never truly be rid of. All those nights I have spent alone, dreaming of you in my empty bed.
Now my dreams are haunted by one thing - The Ring. When I wake, I am haunted by The Ring. It stands above all else, even my feelings for you. The pain it causes rivals the pain I have created for myself through my emotions. But It always wins.
Perhaps when this is over, I shall find solace - some sort of peace, with no pain at all. Nothing can take away what I can feel for you, but it can taint it, blackening my heart until I resent you for not loving me, as you should. I cannot let that happen.
No, you are here to help me in the only way you can. I will get the job done, with Samwise, my steadfast, greatest friend. My gardener.
But Sam, there will be no gardens in Mordor.
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