Sam would not try to see Frodo again. That was best for the both of them. He would not torment his master with his presence, and he could not bear to see that glittering look of hated in Frodo's eyes as he spoke of betrayal.
And yet he couldn't be angry at Frodo, for he knew that those ugly accusations weren't entirely of Frodo's own making. Sam remembered too well the things Frodo had said and done once the Ring had begun to take hold of him. He remembered that nasty sneak Gollum hissing into Frodo's ear, turning his mind with lies. All that poison was still festering inside him. Sam had hoped that the Ring's des-truction would bring Frodo back to his senses, but it seemed now that that wasn't so.
Hereafter, he would stay away. It must be enough for him to know that Frodo lived and to hope that he might one day be well, even if they never saw each other.
The next time Frodo cried out his name in the dark, Sam clapped his hands over his ears to block out the sound.
As the days drew toward Midsummer, the city prepared for new cele-brations: Aragorn was to be formally crowned King of Gondor in a grand ceremony, and his wedding to the Lady Arwen would follow soon after. The household of the Fellowship was busy, for most of them had a part in the preparations, if not in the coronation ceremony itself, but they each spent as much time with Frodo as their other duties allowed. He was never left unattended, and never left alone in the house with Sam.
One summer afternoon, Sam watched from the windows above as Frodo sat on the terrace with his cousins and Gandalf. Wrapped in a shawl against the breeze, Frodo had the fragile look of one who had just emerged from long illness, but Sam was relieved to see that he was almost like his old self. His hair was growing out and curled profusely on his brow and around the points of his ears.
Frodo was recovering swiftly. He didn't scream as often at nights anymore, and he went out onto the terrace on sunny days. Although he continued to take his meals in his room, it was only a matter of time before he joined the others at dinner or in the parlor some evening. It would soon be impossible for Sam to avoid him, unless he hid away himself.
When one of the party on the terrace looked up at him, Sam drew quickly back from the windows--but not before he caught a glimpse of Frodo glancing up too, then leaning forward to speak to Gan-dalf. Sam's heart sank in dismay. He could just imagine the awful things Frodo was saying about him.
He meant to go to his room and stay safely out of the way until Frodo was back in bed, when Merry came up the stairs from the lower level.
"Sam, will you come outside?" he requested. "Frodo's asked to see you."
Sam balked. "I don't know as I'd want to see him now," he answered, "seeing how it went the last time he asked for me. I couldn't stand hearing him speak that way, Mr. Merry, not again."
"It's all right this time," Merry assured him. "Frodo's really much better, you'll see. And Gandalf'll keep an eye on him and put a stop to it if looks like he's having a bad turn. Will you come?"
Reluctantly, Sam went down to the terrace. When they reached the little circle of stone benches where the others sat, Merry urged Pippin up off the flagstones and hissed something in his ear; the two of them went away. Gandalf remained seated.
"You wanted to see me," Sam ventured cautiously.
"Yes," Frodo began. "Sam-"
Sam braced himself for whatever might follow.
"I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me?" he echoed, amazed.
"Gandalf has told me that I'm to receive special honors tomorrow at Aragorn's coronation, and that this was your idea."
Sam didn't recall saying any such thing. Had it come out of that conversation in his room? He remembered telling Gandalf about all the things he'd taken away from his master by assuming his place, but nothing like this.
He looked to the wizard, who said, "It was your belief that Frodo had not received proper recognition for his services which led me to consult the king about it. We agreed that this was a fine opportunity to show our gratitude for all he has done."
"Well, that's only fitting." It didn't make up for what Frodo had suffered--nothing ever could--but at least it was some small way to make amends.
"I would be proud to have you stand at my side tomorrow, Sam," Frodo continued.
Surprised and touched as he was by this unexpected offer, Sam had to refuse. "I couldn't, Mr. Frodo. That's kind of you to say, but 'tisn't right. I've had my day of honors. This should be yours."
"I never sought honors," Frodo answered. "I am grateful for the gesture, but more than that, I'm simply pleased to know that I haven't been forgotten."
"No, not forgotten," Sam told him. "I remembered you. All your friends did."
Frodo regarded him steadily. Was that odd glitter in his eyes again? Sam thought he saw it for an instant, but it was gone too quickly for him to be sure. Then Frodo turned to Gandalf and asked, "Will you leave us alone, please?"
"You've said what you intended to say."
"I want to say something more, just for Sam to hear. Please? I'll behave myself," Frodo promised.
Gandalf gave him a stern look of warning from beneath fiercely out-thrust eyebrows as he left them. Once the wizard had gone, Frodo said, "Sam, I'm so very sorry for things I've said to you. I couldn't have been more cruel."
"I didn't know you were kept prisoner, Frodo! I thought you'd died." Tears welled in Sam's eyes. "Do you really think I'd ever do such an awful thing?"
"No," Frodo answered wearily. "Not when I'm in my right mind. But, Sam, I haven't been in my right mind for so long. I'm only beginning to come out of the darkness. You have to understand. Please, may I try to explain?"
Sam nodded, and Frodo began, "When I was taken to the tower, the orcs stripped me of everything. They questioned me-" His hands curled defensively on his chest. "I can't tell you what they did --I can't bear to think of it, even now--but when they didn't get what they wanted from me, they promised even worse. I was to be sent to Barad Dur for further... questioning. I was certain that all was lost. I thought you must be dead, Sam, or captured as well. I thought the Enemy had the Ring. That was the worst of it: there was no hope. I only wished that I might die before I was taken to meet the Ring's true Master.
"The orcs fought over my belongings--I suppose you've heard all about that? Afterwards, it was very quiet for a long time. When no one came up to feed me for more than a day, I thought they'd all gone and left me alone. I was too afraid to try the trap door in the floor of my cell, until I heard some large thing land atop the tower, and a terrible scream. One of the Nazgul had come for me. I was still afraid of whatever might be lurking below, but what was above was far more frightening. There was nothing else to do but risk it. I pried up the trap door with my fingers, and jumped down. The stairway was blocked with the bodies of dead orcs, but I climbed over them and went down the stair until I found a place to hide. I heard the Rider snuffling in search of me, but he must have thought me dead among the orcs, or else escaped, for he left the tower swiftly. I stayed hidden after he'd gone, in case he or others returned, until I grew so hungry that I had to come out to look for food.
"Everywhere I went, I found more orcs. They lay dead by hundreds, and they were beginning to make an awful smell. I searched the tower, and I saw no living thing. At last, I made my way to the gateyard and the orcs' storerooms, where I found some food. Foul stuff, but I ate it." He looked sick. "It was either that or starve. I didn't believe I had any reason to live, but something inside me wouldn't let me lie down and die. I don't know how many days passed, when I heard a great rumbling like a storm in the distance. The mountains shook, and I fell to the ground as if I'd been struck. I felt... changed. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from my heart, and at the same time, a vital part had been cut out of it. I knew then that the Ring had been destroyed. You must have done it.
"From the upper platform of the tower, I could see the works of Sauron crumbling into ruin. Even Barad Dur had fallen. I might leave the tower, but I had no idea where to go. I couldn't go out the way I had come in, not through that tunnel." Frodo shuddered. "And I didn't dare go into Mordor. Orcs were still about, under no orders but just as brutal free as they'd been in service to their Master. The only thing to do was stay where I was and wait for someone to come and find me. I knew that if you were alive, you would come back for me, or send help.
"When weeks passed and no one came, I wondered, Where is Sam? Why doesn't he come? I used to dream that you'd come into the tower. I still have that dream sometimes: I almost feel you lifting me up off the stones. You tell me that all the horrors are over and I am safe. With your arms around me, it seems as if nothing bad can ever happen to me again. I've dreamt it a dozen times or more, and I always wake up calling out for you, but you're never really there." Frodo turned agonized eyes up to him. "Why weren't you there?"
"I didn't know," Sam repeated miserably. What else could he say? Tears streamed down his face as he listened to Frodo's story and learned all that his master had suffered--all that Frodo might have been spared if not for him. "I would've come for you, Frodo. I'd've moved the heavens and earth to find you if only I'd known."
He knew why he still felt he was to blame. Maybe Gandalf was right and he had done the sensible thing, but it wasn't the right thing for him. Anyone else in his place could have walked away, but in doing so he had forsaken not only his duty to stand by Frodo, but his own heart. He should not have sacrificed the one he loved even for the sake of the whole world. Let the world fall, as long as Frodo did not! It was monstrously selfish of him to feel that way, but he couldn't help thinking that if he had done as his heart demanded instead of using his head, everything would somehow have come out all right in the end.
"I used to believe that you were the one person I could always rely upon," said Frodo. "No matter what happened, you would be there. You'd look after me. When you didn't come, I felt betrayed. I began to hate you." When Sam sobbed, he added quickly, "I know that isn't fair, but it's what I felt. Then there were the things Gollum told me. You remember, Sam?"
As if Sam could forget! "He told you I meant to take the Ring for myself. You believed him."
Frodo could not deny this, but bowed his head as he answered, "Even after I saw how he had lied and led me into a trap, his words stayed with me. I didn't want to believe it, but once the idea had taken root in my mind, it grew. During those days I spent waiting, I thought of little else. I tried to puzzle it out: you must have taken the Ring from me, just as Gollum said you would, but you hadn't claimed it for your own. You'd taken it to the Mountain of Fire to destroy it. I couldn't understand why." He looked up at Sam and asked, "Is Gollum dead?"
"He's dead," Sam confirmed.
"Did you kill him?"
"No, but he got what he deserved just the same." That was all Sam intended to say about that until Frodo was well enough to hear the whole story of how Gollum had followed him across Mordor and fought to reclaim the Ring from him even at the Crack of Doom. There, the nasty, wretched creature had fallen. Sam had not pushed him into the fire, but he was glad to see him topple over the edge with the Ring clutched in his hand. It seemed fitting that they go to their end together.
"When the Men of Gondor came at last, they nearly killed me for an orc," Frodo finished his tale. "I was wearing orc clothes, you see--My own had been taken. I was only spared because one of the Men, Anborn, had been with Faramir and he recognized me. He made the others put up their swords. The Men told me they hadn't ex-pected to find anyone in the tower. They hadn't come to rescue me. No one knew that I was still alive. As Anborn carried me out, he told me of 'the other halfling,' how your name was celebrated for the brave deeds you'd done. I saw the answer to my puzzle. I was sure that you must have done it not for the Ring itself, but to steal all the glory. You always wanted there to be tales and songs about us, and you'd gotten your fondest wish.
"I see now that it wasn't like that. Gandalf's spoken to me, scolded me. They all have. They say you love me too dearly to ever deliberately do me harm. They've told me what it cost you to leave me behind. I've heard how heartbroken you were," he said softly. "You took to your bed and wept for days. They were afraid you might die too.
"No matter what I might think of you at my worst, I know you aren't that accomplished a liar. You couldn't deceive them all for so long. If you were what I said, they surely must see it for themselves. Yet no one did. I finally got it into my head that they must be right, and I was wrong. And then I heard how you wanted this recognition paid me at Aragorn's coronation. You didn't even want to share it with me when I asked you. That was the final proof."
Until this, Frodo had sounded normal, but Sam felt a coldness steal down his spine at these last words. "You mean, you were testing me?"
"Oh no, Sam!" Frodo insisted. "I meant what I said: I would be proud to have you stand with me. I don't begrudge you your day of honor. Sincerely, I don't. You've done a marvelous thing, and you deserve every bit of praise you've received. But I don't think I would feel that way if you'd jumped at the chance to have all the attention tomorrow too." He sighed. "You must be patient with me. It's only lies, whispering in the back of my mind, that make me think these things. They are still there. There may be further whispers, but I know them now for what they are. If I do not heed them, I hope they will fade." He glanced up again. "I don't know if you can understand. You were never tempted, were you, Sam?"
"By the Ring?" Sam shook his head. "When I was carrying it, it showed me gardens and such like, whatever in the world I might want for my own, but I never paid it much mind. It couldn't give me what I truly wanted."
"What was that?"
"You," he answered, surprised that Frodo had to ask. "To see you alive again."
Frodo's eyes grew large and dewy. His lower lip quivered, and tears spilled down his cheeks. When he held out a hand, Sam clasped it in both of his, then knelt and kissed the palm. As he bent his head over Frodo's knees, Frodo stroked his hair and he murmured, "My dear Sam..."
"Sam!"
Sam woke that night to Frodo shouting his name. It must be another of those nightmares, but this time he knew what he had to do--what he should have done the first time Frodo had called for him.
He got up and crossed the hall; when he met Gandalf at the door to Frodo's room, he said, "Begging your pardon, sir, but I mean to go to him whether you think it best or no."
Gandalf did not try to stop him, but stood aside to let him in.
Once he was inside the darkened room, Sam climbed up onto the bed, where Frodo lay. "I'm here, Mr. Frodo," he said softly to the lump huddled under the bedclothes. "It's your Sam. I've come."
When he lay his hand on Frodo's shoulder, Frodo sprang up in a whirl of blankets to cling to him. With fistfuls of Sam's night-shirt clenched fiercely in his grip and his head tucked against Sam's chest, he began to sob. Sam gathered him up, pulling Frodo into his lap, and curled around him as if he could shield Frodo from all the bad that had happened with the strength of his own body. He buried his face in those short-cut curls and stroked Frodo's back, whispering words of comfort until the sobbing stopped.
Once Frodo was quiet, Sam lifted his head to find the wizard standing silhouetted before the fire, watching them. "It's all right," he told Gandalf. "I can take care of him. You needn't sit up. I'll stay with Mr. Frodo tonight."
"You're quite certain, Sam?"
"Yes, sir. It's my rightful place." This was the job he was meant for; if he were allowed, he would take it up gladly for the rest of Frodo's life, or his own. It was the only way to make amends.
As he lay Frodo down on the bed, Sam heard Gandalf go out and shut the door behind him.
Frodo reached up to touch his face with his fingertips. "I knew you'd come, Sam."
"Yes, I'm here, and I won't ever leave you again. You can rest easy now. I'll be right by you." As he tucked the quilt under Frodo's chin, he leaned down to give him a kiss. He hoped Frodo wouldn't mind it, just this once.
Frodo didn't seem to mind, but smiled at him before he shut his eyes and slept. Sam lay down beside him on top of the quilt; with one arm protectively across Frodo's chest, he slept as well, at peace for the first time in months.
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