Who Is Killing the Brandybucks? by Kathryn Ramage

Even with Sam holding him, Frodo did not fall asleep for some time. He dozed at last in the early hours of the morning and, when he opened his eyes, daylight was visible through the slats of the window-shutters. Sam had gone. Frodo rose and pulled on his dressing gown, then went out to find Sam in the kitchen, making up the fire.

"I was going to have breakfast nice 'n' ready for you when you got up," Sam said, "only I've had a look in the larder and there isn't much to make breakfast from. No eggs, no bacon, and a bit of bread that's gone stale."

"Milli will bring fresh food when she comes to make breakfast," Frodo answered. "Why don't you get us some tea while we're waiting for her? I can use a good, strong cup to wake me up properly."

"I was just about to. The kettle's already filled." He glanced up at Frodo apologetically. "You left it sitting on the floor last night." It was, in fact, still on the hearthstones beside Sam.

"Yes, well, we left the cottage rather abruptly. It's a good thing I didn't leave it on the fire, else the kettle would've burned out once the water boiled away and we would have come back to a worse mess than the one that was- ah-interrupted." Frodo took a seat at the table. "I don't want to quarrel with you, Sam, but you must understand. What you said last night--You've got it wrong. I didn't push you off onto Rose to get rid of you, and I didn't take up with Merry until after I'd made a very hard decision to let you go. He doesn't have any part in it. I would've come to the same decision if Merry hadn't been there."

Sam gaped up at him. "You were going to give me up anyway?"

Frodo nodded.

"Why? Was it something I did wrong? I did as you wanted. I even married Rosie 'cause you wanted me to."

"Yes, that is what I wanted for you, Sam. You didn't do anything wrong," Frodo hastened to assure him. "You've been wonderful, but while I was away, I realized that it was better if I left you to get on with your own life, the life you should have had, without me. I did it for your sake."

"For my sake?" Sam repeated incredulously.

"I wouldn't have given you up if I thought I'd always be able to keep you for myself. Please, believe that, Sam. But I knew from the first that that wasn't possible. I could only be with you for a short time, and I had to give some thought to what would happen to you afterwards." Frodo could see that Sam didn't know what he was talking about--or refused to see--and his doubts and suspicions were beginning to resurface. He didn't want to be brutal, but it was important that Sam understand why he'd made this choice, and not go on thinking that it was something worse. "I won't be here much longer, Sam. I am ill. The Ring-"

"But you're much better!" Sam protested. "You're getting well again. I can see it!"

"No, Sam. My pain has been lessened, but it won't ever entirely go away," Frodo tried to explain the hard fact of the matter. "The Queen's gift has given me a little more time, not all the time in the world. I can't expect a normal hobbit's span of life, only a few years more than I would have otherwise. I've been given a chance to go away with the Elves and be healed when the pain becomes too great to bear. I was dying, Sam. If it hadn't been for Queen Arwen, I might've died in this year or the next. I could never tell you before. I tried to, but you grew so upset whenever I spoke of it. You never wanted to hear the truth about how ill I really was."

Sam looked guilt-stricken, as if Frodo were reproaching him. "You could tell Merry, couldn't you?" he asked.

"Never mind about Merry."

"But he'd listen?"

Frodo reluctantly acknowledged that this was so. Merry had been the first person he'd confided in.

This information seemed to distress Sam more than anything else Frodo had said that morning. He gulped hard and tears glistened in his eyes, then he turned away to poke at the kitchen fire and feed it more wood. After a moment, he turned back to look at Frodo and braced himself. "I'll listen now," he announced, "if you want to tell me."

Frodo told him. He explained why he had encouraged Sam's courtship and marriage to Rose, and how he'd talked to her, to ensure that Sam wouldn't be left alone after his death. He told Sam how he'd gazed into the palantir that the King kept in the White Tower in Minas Tirith and seen Sam happy with his new family. That glimpse had made Frodo regret his choice, but now that it was done, he'd determined that the best thing to do was leave Sam to the home he'd given him with Rose and the baby, stay away from Bag End and stay out of their lives. He explained the price of Queen Arwen's gift: he would be healed in the Undying Lands, but once he left Middle-earth, he could never return.

By this time, Sam had moved from the hearth to sit at Frodo's feet; his head was on Frodo's knee and he had wrapped both arms around his calves. As he listened, he wept and his embrace around Frodo's legs tightened, but he didn't try to stop Frodo from talking. He had promised to listen, and he meant to hear all the worst.

"You see now, don't you?" Frodo concluded, stroking Sam's curls to try and comfort him. "I thought it'd be easier for both of us if we were already separated when the time came for me to leave. You have a wonderful life without me, and there's so much you can be and do. When I am gone, you'll have a wife, a daughter you adore, and there'll be more children too. They'll sustain you. I can give you that."

"But it isn't you," Sam sobbed into his lap. "Nothing'll ever take the place of you."

"I know, Sam, but one way or another I must leave you eventually. That can't be avoided, and you'll have to go on without me."

"If-" Sam choked on the next words. It was some time before he could make himself say it. "If you don't have much time left, then I want you near me for all that time--where I can see you, touch you, and hold on tight and know you're right with me, not miles away! If I have to get on without you, let's have it be later, not now while you're still here. I'll see you through your last days, and we'll make the best of every one o' them." He lifted his head and looked up at Frodo with a teary but hopeful expression. "We almost met with our deaths together once, Frodo. Remember? I thought that was the end for us, but it wasn't. We had some time after that, wonderful days. All that comes after is extra time."

Frodo had meant to soften the blow of his inevitable leaving and make it easier for Sam, but he saw that he'd only made it more painful. Perhaps Sam was right: they ought to make the most of the time that was left to them.

"All right," he said softly, and leaned down to kiss Sam's brow. "Don't cry anymore, my love. I'll do as you want--I'll come home to Bag End with you, as soon as this investigation is finished."

They remained as they were, sitting and holding each other tightly, until Milli arrived and had to bang on the barred door to be let in.
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