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just a moments ago, sam had caught a glance of mister frodo’s pen he had borrowed a morning ago to jot down some plans for his garden, and realized he had accidentally taken it home. oh dear.
the thunder boomed in the distance as droplets of water showered sam’s quaint little house, pattering rhythmically. the night engulfed sam’s figure as he held a candle outstretched towards the table. sam remained standing in the middle of his hallway, gaze stuck, unmoving on the wooden pencil on his desk.
gosh, frodo must be awful lonely out there in the storm, especially with mister bilbo out for the weekend.
before he knew it, his feet had moved to his bedroom, then to his dresser, and all of a sudden, he was tromping through the muddy pathways of the shire.
so, on this rainy night, sam found himself stood on frodo’s doorstep, drenched as the rain continued to pour down his back, a hand waiting hesitant by his side.
alright. just as sam had brought up his hand and resolved to knock, the door swung open, leaving sam’s hand frozen, knuckles extended outwards.
“sam? what are you doing here?”
“frodo.” sam awkwardly looked down at his feet. gosh, why was he so awkward? “er, i had actually just wanted to drop by an’ give you your pen. i’d just remembered i took it home, and i thought you might want it back, so-“
sam dug into his pocket, pulling out a pen, with the name “bilbo baggins” engraved onto its handle.
“well- thank you sam.” frodo sounded thankful, and was there a hint of surprise in there? “-but- you didn’t have to come out this late in the evening. i could have done without my pen for a night.”
sam looked up at the looming clouds covering the dark sky. gosh, it really was awful late. he didn't notice the time passing. “gee, it really is quite late isnt it?” sam brought a hand up to the back of his neck, a goofy apologetic smile worn on his face. “well, i better get going now. i do apologize for disturbing your sleep.” sam turned around to start heading off, letting out a sigh of embarrassment before he started to take a step.
“-wait.”
sam turned around. there was a brief pause. sam noticed as frodo’s hand shifted to his side, flexing his fingers, opening and closing his hand in momentary contemplation.
“would you like to come in? i just- i figured the rain hasn't let up all day, and i figure it wont let up until the sun rises. and- it's awful wet out there. you might get sick.” frodo’s gaze shifted upwards to match sam’s own. if sam was brave enough to say, he might've said frodo’s eyes looked as if they wanted sam to stay. truly, frodo was right. the rain was harsh, and there was a long way til sam would get back to his house.
“are you sure? i don't want to track dirt in your home.”
and those eyes. he really couldn't say no.
“alright, mr frodo. i'll come in.”
frodo widened the door to allow sam in, and sam shook off his baggage outside before entering, closing the door behind him as he followed frodo in.
“i think uncle might have some old clothes you could use to change. i’m sure he wouldn't mind.”
sam turned to frodo. “are you sure? i mean, i dont mind sleeping in my work clothes. theyre not uncomfortable or anything, if thats what your concerned about.”
“sleeping in your damp clothes aren’t good for your health. at least, thats what uncle bilbo would always tell me everytime i would play in the rain when i was younger.” frodo offered a small smile as he motioned for sam to sit in the living room as he fetched his clothes. “please do make yourself at home,” sam heard from the hallway.
sam hung his sachel around the wooden hook by the door, which was awfully well carved, by the ways, and dusted off his hands on his pants. he kept his hands hanging loose by his sides, not knowing where to place them, as to not mess up the stillness of his surroundings. it was just frodo’s home, sam had to tell himself.
frodo had given sam a place to change, and so he did, carrying his damp clothes out into a bag frodo had generously provided for him. he really was very thoughtful.
“do you need anything else?”
“oh no, youve done plenty enough for me mister frodo. i think ill just go off to sleep now. you should get some rest too.”
there was a pause.
“right. i suppose ill see you in the morning.”
“i suppose so. good night mister frodo.”
“…good night sam.”
sam tucked himself into the living room sofa as he heard footsteps walking away from him, stopping with a quiet shut of a door.
the first thing sam could sense were footsteps coming his direction. he could feel the way the floorboards creaked under the weight of a hobbit sitting down, and he felt the heat emanating from the fireplace as it crackled to life.
“mister frodo? what are you doing awake?” sam asked, his voice weighted from slumber.
frodo turned around to face sam, a startled expression on his face.
“sorry, did i wake you? i’ll head back to my room if you cant sleep.”
“no, its quite alright mister frodo. you wouldnt mind if i joined you?” sam was very tired indeed. he could feel his eyes drooping as he woke, and could most definitely use a few more restful hours. however, the careful way frodo’s solemn eyes gazed into the faint glow of the orange caused sam to think there was more to it.
sam brushed off the blanket covering him and sat himself cross legged next to frodo, who had brought his knees to his chest. offhandedly, he noticed that they were about an inch from touching.
“what’s keeping you up?” sam’s voice was still tinted with sleep, and his eyes squinted to adjust to the warm light of the fire.
“i suppose i just cant fall asleep.”
“would you like to tell me why?” sam had turned his body halfway towards frodo, showing him his full attention, but not as to be too direct.
“its the silence. the silence is too loud.”
“what do you mean, mister frodo?”
the two stayed silent for a moment, both sharing in the moment of the embers slowly crackling, moving with a calm despite the storm outside.
“its hard to sleep alone. it feels…vulnerable. as if i am vulnerable to the power of the ring if i were to close my eyes and rest.” frodo’s eyes remained fixed on the fire. “the silence has left me feeling an expecting. a waiting for something i know will never come to arrive.” there was an emphasis placed on “know,” as if frodo wanted to emphasize that he knew fact, but failed to believe it against all odds.
i haven't slept well for many a nights.”
“many a nights? you don't mean you haven't slept proper since we returned?”
frodo bit at the skin of his lip. “no, i haven’t. i’ve only been able to fall asleep at my desk, writing. some nights, i manage to rest, with much effort. most nights, i don’t.”
the dark circles under frodo’s eyes seemed to become more apparent with the light of the fire illuminating his face, warmly cupping his soft jaw, tracing along every tired ridge.
sam felt a small feeling of guilt settling in his stomach. guilt that he wasn't able to protect frodo enough, but in a way, he felt an understanding between the two of them. sam would also have nights where he would find himself reaching for the shadow of a sword that wasn't there, to shield from a danger that was long gone. but the feeling still lingered.
sam hadn’t realized that he had craved a sort of comfort, belonging he couldn’t find amongst the other hobbits.
“if i stayed with you, would that help you sleep?”
frodo turned to match sam’s gaze, surprised. it seems as if sam had only gained awareness after seeing what he saw as confusion behind frodo’s eyes.
“i- i didn’t mean to overstep. sorry, you don’t have to say anything. i should just head back to sleep-“ sam had started to stand again, motioning towards his spot on the couch, until frodo quickly moved a hand to sam’s wrist. an act meant to hold sam, but it seemed like it also held frodo.
“no you- you didn't overstep.” he pursed his lips. “i would actually much rather prefer if you could stay with me. if that would be alright with you?”
well, he surely didn’t expect that.
“anything you want of me is alright frodo.”
and so, frodo had gotten up to head to his room, the floorboards beneath shifting under frodo’s weight, and sam followed.
frodo closed the door behind them and slid into his bed, leaving enough space for sam to follow.
sam settled in, and frodo laid his head in sam’s arm, as sam reached around frodo’s shoulders to pull him tighter, closer. it felt almost natural, at that point, like it was a routine the two had fell into, after a many moments of having not been able to do so.
only then, under the warmth of sam’s embrace, could frodo allow his eyes to close shut, and allow his mind to settle. the weight of the world was lifted away by sam’s sheltering embrace and frodo curled into it, tighter, closer, and sam took him in ever so slightly, following frodo’s movements. the soft rhythmic beat of sam’s heart thrummed with frodo’s own, and together, their hearts beat, synchronized, as one.