Chapter Text
“Keep it secret. Keep it safe.”
Those were the last words Gandalf had said to Frodo the night he left on his and Bilbo’s birthday. But then, that was seventeen years ago. Life moves on.
Sam and Frodo have already been married for about two years by the time he reappeared, and they had been courting for nearly seven years before that. About eight months ago they decided they wanted to have children and three months after that Frodo started fertility treatments.
The Moment Frodo had realized that he could ask Sam to court him, was the moment he realized how low the stakes were. No matter how he felt, or what he said, Sam would still be his friend. Maybe it would be awkward for a bit, but he would respect his decision no matter what it was, and he wouldn’t be judged in return. He had very little to lose and everything to gain by just being honest. If only he could remember that sentiment later in life.
All hobbits are born with both male and female reproductive organs and by about age three-five they decide what gender they want to present as. Most pick either male or female but it's not uncommon for someone to pick an in-between option. By the time they reach puberty (which is about 24 since they come of age at 33) hobbits who chose to be male will grow to be male and hobbits that chose to be female will grow to be female. Hobbits who chose another option will just grow.
They don't lose the organs they were born with, but like any muscle or organ that isn't used for long periods of time, the hormonal cycles associated with them are dormant, and don’t work. For example, most hobbits who chose to be male won't get their period past 27, if they get one at all. While Hobbits who chose to be girls will continue to get one ( not accounting for other factors like PCOS or other health complications). Males can still bear children and females can still produce children, but it requires fertility treatments to kick-start dormant hormonal cycles that otherwise would not be active. Hobbit miscarriages are very rare, but more common with males who carry. Typical gestation period for a hobbit is 10 months, or 300 days.
After a long discussion about which one of them would bear their child, they decided that Frodo would start treatments, since he worked from home, and Sam had a more labour intensive job that didn't give as much free time.
Frodo’s 50th birthday had been absolutely wonderful. They had a small but lively party at the Green Dragon with only his closest friends and family (about 30 people, but Frodo would always take quality over quantity). Everyone had sang, drank, eaten, and danced well into the late hours of the night. Even Sam, who usually did not enjoy being the centre of attention, had performed a song with his sisters. They sang while he played his tuba, but he still chimed in with a few lines. Frodo himself had played a few songs on an accordion.
But his favouite part was that he got to talk to everyone individually, if only for a few minutes, and tell them how appreciated they are. Many of them lived in the far corners of the Shire, so the fact that they all came was truly the best gift he could have asked for (well that and they all brought enough food to share was a great help).
It was nearly midnight, but he and Sam were planning on staying up a little longer (only thing that could make this night better would be if he got pregnant). He was just about to join his husband in their bedroom, thinking about how wonderful life is and how much he has to be grateful for, when suddenly there was a knock at the door.
He debated very strongly whether or not he was even going to open it, but eventually his curiosity won out.
“Is it secret? Is it safe?”
Hello Frodo, happy birthday, sorry for dropping in so late, sorry it’s been 17 years, sorry I missed your wedding, I know how special my fireworks would’ve been for the occasion. Of Course being the polite gentle hobbit he is, Frodo did not say any of these things. “Gandalf!” who had already let himself in “Why don’t you come in?” He said in an overly loud voice so that Sam could hear him from the bedroom and come out to greet their guest. Sam did not come to greet their guest because he was not wearing clothes at that moment.
“Is it secret?! Is it safe Frodo?!” Gandalf asked again, more urgently this time. He seemed fidgety, agitated, almost frightened. But that was absurd, what could scare a wizard?
“Is what sec-”
“The ring!” he hissed. “Do you have the ring?”
“Yes! It's in the study, I’ll get it.”
So apparently, demons of unimaginable horror were heading right towards his home, and there was nothing he could do about it except leave for an indefinite amount of time. The news was so upsetting that he had quite forgotten about Sam who had finally made himself decent and had just come into the sitting room where they were.
“I already have bag packed, if we hurry we could be gone within the hour”
“Samwise Gamgee!” If it were possible for Gandalf to be surprised by anything, he would have sounded surprised.
“Hullo Mr.Gandalf” said Sam, sounding grim and very much unsurprising.
“You’ll have to go with him, if you’ve been eavesdropping”
“I ain’t been droppin’ no eaves sir, and as if you’d be able to stop me from going.”
And so they were gone the next morning (it was already past midnight, they wouldn’t have made it far if they left that night) before the sun was up. For the first few days it was almost like a lovely holiday, and with the mild weather it would have been if not for sleeping on the ground. Despite that they both knew there was constant danger, neither of them felt any less at ease. Sam even tried to uncharacteristically make a lighthearted joke about the situation.
“Don’t worry Frodo m’dear, I’ll protect you. I’ll be your guard-ner!”
“You are my gardener."
“Guardner spelled with a UA. I guess it doesn’t really work spoken aloud.”
“Well if you had written it out and I had read it it would have been really funny."
They were nearly at the edge of the Brandywine about to take a short cut through Maggot Farms.
“I left the fertility treatments at home” they had been walking hand in hand in comfortable silence for a while before Frodo spoke up.
“Well, I suppose that’s probably for the best” with only a slight bit of disappointment in his voice. “Heh, if we was expectin’ a babe while even out of the Shire, never mind on a dangerous quest, well that would be no good for anyone."
“I know you’re right. I’m just disheartened that we have to put our plans on hold”
“Hey now,” said Sam, putting his hand on his husband’s shoulder “we can always try again when we get back. We’ll go there to Bree, meet up with Gandalf, go with him to Rivendell, and Back again. It won’t take more than a month or so."
“Oh Sam-” before he could say anymore they were crashed into by Merry and Pippin and fell over a short cliff. They were about to ask the very important question of ‘what the hell?!’, then suddenly they had bigger problems to worry about.
A tall black figure on a black horse was standing in the distance in the middle of the road. It was as if darkness was emanating off them, the world around them seemed to dim. They had just made it off the road in time to avoid being spotted, all squished together under a tree root. There were oozy smells, crawly things and was all around quite uncomfortable, but none of them would dare to move.
Frodo could feel a cold chill creeping through his mind. It was such a foreign feeling it took him a second to identify it. Fear. Not just anxiety, but true fear from real life threatening danger. He didn’t have much time to feel it however because soon his thoughts were becoming overwhelmingly loud and muddled. He couldn’t pick out any one clear thought, except that he should put on the ring. No, I shouldn’t. But why not? I can't remember. He felt his eyes close but there was no conscious thought to close them. It wasn’t until Sam grabbed his hand that he realized that he had moved to put the ring on. He looked into Sam’s soft brown scared eyes and felt his mind clear.
The Black rider had moved on and they raced to the Buckleberry ferry.
By the time they reached Bree they were all scared out of their wits and quite tired from all the excitement. Also it started raining so everyone was cold and wet on top of that. They were seated in the Prancing Pony, but there was no sign of Gandalf. They had no choice but wait for him.
Pippin had gotten up to get another pint. Maybe they should be concerned that Pippin wasn’t even an adult yet and he was already coping with stress by drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, but they all wanted to get drunk with him. The only reason they didn’t was because they needed to stay alert. (alcoholism does not really exist among hobbits due to their very fast metabolism and carefree lifestyle).
“That man over there in the corner has been staring at you since we got here.” Sam said, keeping his voice low and making a point to not look at said man. Frodo looks over at said man before Sam can stop him.
Merry, trying (and failing) to lighten the mood comments “We’re in an inn called the ‘Prancing Pony’ and there’s only males here. Why do you think he could be staring at him?” Sam did not find this funny, but he still made sure he was visibly holding hands with and kissed him on the head before going to ask the bartender about the mysterious man in the corner. Normally they didn't really do public displays of affection, but it had been a very long and stressful day, they would take comfort where they could get it.
Frodo ignored these comments (but he made a mental note to keep holding Sam’s hand when he came back to the table), he had more pressing things on his mind. “Merry, I’m so sorry you and Pippin got dragged into this. You must be so confused and I can’t explain it all here. You must be wondering why that rider was chasing us”
“I am a bit confused but I assume whoever they were they’re after the ring.”
“What!?” he whisper shouted as quietly as he could. “First of all keep your voice down and don't say that out loud!” he hissed “Second of all how the hell do you know about it? Bilbo never spoke of it, and I only ever told Sam once.”
“I’ve known about it for years. Before Bilbo left I read about it in his red book But I didn’t really understand it until recently. Actually, I still don’t really understand it, and Pippin understands even less. But I figured that someone was going to come looking for it eventually and they probably wouldn’t be very nice. I know you think that you've put us in danger, but know that we aren’t going into this blind. We’re with you. Both you and Sam. Whatever it takes, we're with you.”
Frodo was deeply moved by the fierce determination in his cousin’s eyes. “Thank you Merry. I still can’t believe that you knew about it before I did. Damn. I can’t get over that. Seventeen years that’s been looming over me and you knew the entire time-”
Frodo was not given any more time to dwell on this because from their table they could hear and see Pippin gesturing towards them and saying something that Frodo would easily forgive him for, but would take him weeks to earn forgiveness from Sam.
“Sure I know a Baggins! He’s sitting right over there. Frodo Baggins. He’s my second cousin, once removed on his mother’s side.”
Oh shit. That was Sam’s only clear thought at the moment. Well, that and I’m going to kill Pippin. Of course he knew that it was only hobbit nature to talk about their family trees to anyone who would listen, but damn it they used a fake name when they came in for a reason!
Sam had been asking the barkeep about the dark hooded man in the corner, weary of any potential threats.
“He’s a ranger” the barkeep had told him "dangerous folk they are. Lives out in the wild. Most people ‘round here call him Strider. Lousy tenant too, he keeps bumming beer off me in exchange for poetry. If I didn’t feel so sorry ‘bout him livin’ in the woods I would've kicked him out long ago.”
Fantastic. Sam thought bitterly, first we’re being hunted by black riders, now some dangerous wild ranger is making goo-goo eyes at my husband. Then he heard Pippin talking to the big folk, looked over at the table and Frodo was gone. He saw him panicking and trying to get across the crowded room when he tripped over the leg of some big person and fell flat on his back. That alone would have scared Sam at the best of times, but what happened next stopped his heart completely.
He vanished. He blinked and then he was just gone. He reappeared only a few seconds later but it might as well have been a year. However it was almost worse than when he was gone because the Strider fella was grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him off!
Sam was too far away across the room and there were too many people in the way to get to him. He gathered Merry and Pippin and together they went to find where the bastard had taken his husband. Luckily Merry had seen where they went but thought that going after them by himself was a bad idea. Pippin hadn't seen anything at all, there were too many big people in the way. But he was still worried about Frodo so telling him what he did wrong would have to wait.
Sam stormed up the stairs and if he had the physical strength he would have broken down the door. When he saw Strider standing over his Frodo his blood boiled, then in a voice the other hobbits had never heard he yelled “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”
Merry and Pippin, who were standing right behind Sam with fists at the ready, exchanged glances as if to say oh shit, remind me to never piss off Sam.
“You have a stout heart young hobbit.” Said Strider, who unlike Merry and Pippin, did not seem scared of Sam at all. Much to Sam's disappointment. “But it will not Save you.” He looked right past them and turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the wizard. Frodo, they are coming.”
As much as Sam wanted to start interrogating Strider, he wasn't an immediate threat. And now that Frodo was again in arms reach, he was top priority. Sam rushed to him in less than a second, checking him over for injuries. “Oh m’dear! Are you alright m'darlin’?” Sam was still rubbing his arms, brushing back his hair, holding his face.
Merry and Pippin were doing their best to stare down Strider, as if daring him to interrupt. He raised on eyebrow but otherwise didn't say anything.
“I'm alright love”
Sam made Frodo promise to never scare him like that again. A promise which he broke on October 6th.
According to Frodo they had no choice but to trust Strider. Sam did not like Strider. All hobbits had a natural distrust of big people, and since his first impression of him was him essentially kidnapping Frodo, Sam highly doubted that he would ever like him.
They had gotten supplies in Bree, and set out as soon as they could. Sam had gotten a cream coloured pony named Bill to carry supplies. Bill was going to come home with him to the Shire, and Sam would be willing to fight goblins to ensure that.
Frodo was ahead talking with Merry, Sam was last in line leading Bill, then Pippin lagged back to talk to him. “I’m sorry I blew our cover at the inn.”
As mad as he was, Sam knew it wasn’t really his place to reprimand Pippin, “it’s Frodo you should be apologizing to” he said curtly.
“I did, he told me to apologize to you.” he almost sounded scared about the idea, “I know what I did was really dumb, I wasn’t thinking. You know how Tooks get about family history”
Sam let out a long sigh, “Look, I know you didn’t mean any harm. But we’re not in the Shire anymore and there’s real danger out here and we need to look out for each other.”
“I know,” Pippin said quietly, looking at his feet. Since Sam and Frodo had gotten together nine years ago, Pippin had seen Sam as another cool older cousin just as much as Frodo and Merry. But for whatever reason, (probably because Sam was always more responsible than Merry and Frodo), whenever Sam was disappointed with him it was so much worse. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”
“I know you will, ‘cause I got no problem sending you home if you don’t” he had no intention of actually doing this, it would be way too dangerous to send one hobbit, especially one as young as Pippin, off by themselves. But also he knew how important it was for Pippin to be a part of whatever his older cousins were doing.
“I know Merry has told you this, or he better have, but I’m really glad that Frodo has you. We worry about him, Merry and I, especially after Bilbo left. But knowing that you’re there to look after him, it’s a real comfort. We worry about you too!” he added quickly “But, you know how he gets.”
“I do, thank you Pippin.” He gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, he hadn’t forgiven Pippin just yet, but he wasn’t mad at him any more.
“What are you two conspirators talking about back there?” Merry called back to them.
“I was telling Sam how I’m gonna put bugs in your bedroll tonight!”
“And I was planning what I would cook for dinner.”
When they reached Weathertop, Strider gave them swords (why did he have so many hobbit sized swords?) and told them he was going to look around. He had at least provided them with some insight on what was chasing them. Nazgul, which were apparently like humans that were also ghosts? It still didn’t really make much sense to him. Of course it would’ve been far more helpful if Strider had told them how to defend themselves from the monsters.
The Nazgul had surrounded them on all sides. They formed a protective circle, Sam put himself directly in front of Frodo. Then all hell broke loose.
He started swinging his sword with all his might at the creatures. He got a few good hits in, but they were too big and there were too many of them. One of them landed a hard blow to his chest and he was knocked back a good few feet. He crashed against the cold hard ground and hit his head on a rock as he landed.
After that the next few minutes were a blur. His vision went cloudy, and his ears were ringing. But through the ringing, he heard the most blood curdling, horrifying shriek he had ever heard in his life. He would never forget the next few moments for the rest of his life, and he would always count it as the worst thing he would ever experience (although later that would be a very high bar).
Sam saw his entire life flash before his eyes in the seconds it took to reach him. Except, it wasn’t a life he had lived, it was what his life would be if Frodo died here. It was a very lonely, painful, and short life.
Frodo was writhing in pain on the ground, his face was white as snow and gasping like a fish. The whimpering noises of anguish that he made would haunt Sam’s dreams for years to come.
Strider had returned at some point and fought off the nazgul, but Sam did not see any of what must have been a very impressive battle.
Regardless of anything he thought of the ranger, right now he was his only hope. “You must help him! Please Strider!” His voice cracked with fear and desperation.
“He was stabbed with a morgul blade. This is beyond my capabilities, he needs elvish healing.” He scooped Frodo into his arms and carried him off.
The rest of their journey was a nightmarish blur of fear and stress. Sam hardly slept more than an hour for the entire rest of the way (which was for the best since he definitely had a concussion), instead staying at Frodo’s side to tell him comforting things and hold his hand. They healed him the best they could with something called alth-, althe-, king’s foil. Then at some point an elven princess had taken him away to Rivendell faster than they could. (To Sam, any elven woman may as well be a princess. The fact that this one would later turn out to be a princess is a coincidence).
When they arrived in Rivendell, Frodo had already been treated and was lying in a soft white bed in the halls of healing. Too tired to even take off his filthy travel clothes, Sam crawled onto the bed that was far too big for a single hobbit and laid down on top of the sheets Frodo was tucked under. He took hold of his hand, kissed his forehead and watched the rise and fall of his chest for a minute longer. He was asleep the second his eyes closed.