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Frodo stared out the window at the beautiful outdoors.The flowerbeds had just begun to regrow. He knew they would be beautiful soon. Somehow, he could not bring himself to smile about it. His eyes were red and rubbed raw–he gave the appearance of a Hobbit with a bit of spring fever. And he did have it. The life that was born after the bitter cold was inspiring. He wanted to be happy about it. He wanted to frolic and glide and bask in the warm sun with his friends. He truly wanted to be home. But something was stopping him. He could not shake whatever it was. He tried to swallow it down like a dirt-soaked pill. He sipped some chamomile tea he had brewed an hour ago. It was more cold now than he would ordinarily have liked, but since he got back he enjoyed even the slightest of pleasures. Even when they were not up to his old standards. People had begun to dislike him because of it. The other day Sam forced him outside of his hole to get a drink and he met up with some old hobbits who quickly wanted rid of him. “Too sour.” they’d grumbled. “Puttin’ a damper on our good time.” Another quipped. He didn’t feel that shaken by these comments. He was never the most liked or popular hobbit out there. Bilbo got a lot of criticism for adopting the boy in the first place because of his not so nice reputation. Still, he found it funny how his grief had brought about a whole new isolation. He couldn’t enjoy anything anymore. That’s what it seemed like on the outside and that’s what it felt like on the inside. Most days he felt it difficult to get up. It was hard for him to even fathom returning to society and becoming a regular hobbit again. It all seemed impossible.
Was that wrong? Everyone else seemed to be doing fine. Pippin and Merry were doing better than fine. They had been partying more than ever. Frodo was happy that they were easily able to resume their lives, and he tried his best not to dwell in his jealousy about the ordeal, but sometimes in the wee hours he did dwell. And that felt like such an awful and bitter thing to do, and it made Frodo feel disgusting. He tried to bury the feeling in tea. Even if the tea was barely warm by the time he mustered up the courage to drink it.. “Mr. Frodo..” Frodo could hear Sam say. “Are you alright?” He would ask him often. Frodo didn’t understand how Sam could worry so tirelessly about him. How did he ever have time for himself when he’s always thinking about me? He would ask himself. He found Sam’s behavior after they returned to the Shire to be peculiar. Sam had told Frodo, when they were in Mordor, that if he were able to, he’d ask Rosie Cotton to marry him. Well, they’d been back for a bit more than a year and Sam still hadn’t asked Rosie. Frodo wondered if he was waiting for the right time, or if they were going to disappear one day, as custom. Frodo didn’t understand why Sam was still waiting, even after all he’d been through, but he did know that he wanted what was best for him. He planned to ask Sam to live with him in Bag End. He knew that Sam would probably decline, but he could always live there with Rose. Did Frodo mind that? He didn’t know how to feel. It felt like everyone was getting on just fine, and life was slower for him. The world was spinning normally for everyone else and in slow motion for him. He couldn’t keep up with everyone else. It felt physically impossible with the rate they were going.
“Mr. Frodo?” Sam opened the door.
“Sam?” Frodo looked at him, “Sorry, were you knocking?”
“Yes, Mr. Frodo, for quite a bit. Did you not see me through the window?” Sam asked him, walking over to the little table Frodo was sitting at and sitting across from him.
“No, sorry, Sam. I was lost in thought.” Frodo told him. “Do you need anything, Sam?”
“No, I just wanted to check up on you.” Sam said.
Frodo nodded about this. “I appreciate it, Sam. I was just thinking about you, you know.”
“Oh, yes?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes, I was wondering why you haven’t asked for Rosie’s hand yet. Do you remember telling me that you would?”
“Yes, I do remember that, Mr. Frodo.” Sam said, “ Though I feel different now than I did then. Somehow, on top of that great, hellish mountain, I felt there was everything to appreciate.”
Frodo laughed at that. “How. I felt nothing but suffering.”
“I imagine you still feel that way..” Sam said, tapping his teacup lightly.
“Yes, I do find it hard in my heart to get on with my life. I feel…” Frodo hesitated. “I feel like I need help.”
“Help? In what aspect?”
“I want you to live with me.” Frodo told Sam.
“You can bring Rosie, if you do propose, but I cannot go on living in this big hole alone. It’s too difficult for me. I’m going to need to find a stay-in nurse of some sort if you do not help me.”
Sam was speechless for a moment.
“Of course I’ll live with you, Mr. Frodo.” He said. “I love this big old place! It’s so beautiful and the kitchen is lovely, and of course I would be closer to the garden.”
“I’ll even pay you for it, staying here with me. It would make me do more things around the house, too.”
“More than I already do, Mr. Frodo?” Sam smiled, “You don’t need to pay me more, you pay me just fine. I love being your gardener, your servant. It would mean everything to me if I were your..companion..too.”
Frodo nodded and drank the rest of his cold tea.
“Mr. Frodo.”
“Yes, Sam.”
“I don’t think my future is with Rosie.”
“Oh, really? Why is that? I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Well, since we’ve returned and I've had some time to think and adjust, I feel differently than I did when I thought we weren’t going to make it.”
“That makes sense, Sam, that was a dire time.”
“Yes, it was dire.” Sam nodded. “I would love to live here with you. I would love for my future to be with you.” Sam put his hand on Frodo’s hand. “I want to help you, and I want to spend the rest of my days with you.”
Frodo looked at Sam and took his hand in his. “That is so dear Sam.” He rubbed his thumb along his knuckles. “Is that.. A proposal…?” He asked, lightly, sheepishly, gazing downward.
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
Frodo lit up, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled brightly. For that moment he felt happy.As if all that had happened on their adventure was forgotten. He was free from any guilt, sorrow or distress that his journey caused him. All he could think was Sam. Was the idea of spending the rest of his life with this Hobbit, who understood him better than anyone else. Who’s positivity and devotion was inspiring. Whom he could only dream to amount to.