The Adventures of Frodo Gardner
Volume II Through Shadows to the Edge of Night By Dolores J. Nurss
Chapter 21, Part 51 Sam's Reply (December 29, 1451)
“December 1, 1451
Mayor Samwise Gamgee
Bag End
Hobbiton
The Shire
Arnor
“Dear Frodo-Lad:
“Well, youve given your mother and me a fair piece to chew on, and no
mistake! Right now I am none too pleased with Meriadoc Brandybuck, I
must say. I entrust my son to his watching, and what does he do? He
lets a mad elf lead you all over creation and finally to the mouth of
Moria itself, he lets you get darn near killed by an orc, he plies you
with ent-draughts without your knowing, and then hes got the gall to
challenge Mays place in our family! He and I are going to have words, I
tell you!”
The handwriting changed slightly, with a somewhat different shade of ink.
“Okay, Ive had time to cool down a bit. Rosie made me go out and chop
wood till I worked the fury out of my system. Merrys all right, I
spose, though hes always been a bit of a tom-fool about some things. He
did give you good sword lessons, and that saved your life. And it
wasent his fault that he sprained his ankle trying to come to your
rescue, nor that Legolas lost his marbles, and I daresay I could blame
Treebeard more than Merry for the ent-draught business (that big
overgrown critters got no sense about anything that aint got leaves!)
“But this business about May is bad, Frodo, and the bad starts right
here at home. See, I was reading your letter out loud to the family. I
got to the part about her and stopped mid-sentence but too late--all
the children had at least part of an idea that something was up. I
guess I was in shock, for the letter dropped right out of my hand and
Merry-lad swooped it up and continued reading it aloud afore I could
stop him, his face gone white as milk. May screamed, Frodo--she
actually screamed. I dont think she understood the worst of it, but she
knows now that Rosie and I aint legally her parents, and that she came
about in some bad way--and that is horrible hard on such a little
thing! I dont know what to do for her.
“Itill go to worse if talk gets out about this. Ive told all the
younguns not to breathe a word of it to anybody, but theres just so
many of them and none of them have full-growed hobbit-sense as yet.
Sooner or later the worst is bound to happen. And I dont mean what it
could do to my career, what with the news that Ive been breaking the
law all these years--folks might decide that they understand why I
wouldent want to give a baby girl to the likes of Ted Sandyman, and
re-elect me anyways. But I dont care that much about being Mayor, not
to the point where it comes before family. What concerns me more is
that people might start pressing me to do just that, to make a Sandyman
out of May, and Id rather die.”
“Here Ive gotten this letter off on the wrong footing--thats me all
over--and not attended to the most important thing of all--YOUR
ALIVE!!! O Frodo, my son, my dear, dear son, no matter what else your
letter wrot, you cannot imagine the joy your mother and I felt when
Bleo handed over that big, fat, fancy packet with “I AM ALL RIGHT!”
scrawled across it, bold as a bull!
“I tell you, as soon as your mother saw those words she ran skipping
out to the fields out back and started singing and dancing for joy, and
all the little ones ran out and joined her, and your bigger brothers
and sisters, too, I might add, and I ran out and swirled her up into
the air, laughing for joy--and all the neighbors came out and leaned on
their fences to watch us, right out there in broad daylight, but they
knowed we must of had good news for a change, for they were all smiles
and not much in the way of head-shaking anywhere. I hadent taught Rosie
any elvish songs for thanks or joy, seeing as we havent been too happy
around here lately, but she just made some up on the spot, and the
prettiest music you ever did hear, too. In my day I’ve heard songs sung
in Rivendell and places like that from singers so good that their like
cannot be found in Middle-Earth today, but Id trade in every note of it
for the singing my wife did on the day we got your letter, Frodo-Lad. I
mean it, too.
“It was touch and go there for awhile, though, wasent it? My poor, poor
lad--you dont say much about it (and small wonder!) but that orc must
of hurt you bad. Your handwriting gets horrible for pages afterwards,
and it sure does seem like you took your time getting back on your feet
proper. All right--I can forgive the ent-draught if it fixed you up
right after all the blood loss. I can forgive anything that makes my
boy well again. But Ill tell you one thing, Frodo--for the first time I
understand what Rosies been telling me all along, that in some ways its
harder to sit back home and wait for someone you love to get through an
adventure than to be out there doing the adventuring. I would gladly
take on any wound myself rather than hear of any wound of yourn.
“But dont stop writing! Itid be even worse if I thought you might not
be telling me all. Tell me everything! Not knowing is the hardest
thing. At least when you write to me of your hardships, I know Im
hearing the worst of it (and also the best, in other parts) and so my
imagination doesent run wild with me. You just keep those letters
coming and Ill do the same by you.
“You did good, son. Taking on that orc all by yourself. Im sorry you
had to go through that, but I cannot tell you how proud I am that you
won--and relieved beyond all bounds! Maybe you dident know that much
about fighting, but you used your head, and thats the most important
thing. Remember that--your head will save your life better than the
best elvish blade or dwarvish mail.
“And roses--did you really think I would begrudge you that rosehip tea,
Frodo? Id of traded all the roses in the world--aye, and the entire
gardens of Rivendell and Lorien combined into the bargain--to get you
on your feet again!
“You did put in a lot of good stuff into the letter, too, dident you?
Just when I think Im all through with being a ninnyhammer I do
something stupid to remind me Im still the same Sam Gamgee I always
been. Like starting off this letter talking of nothing but the bad. I
guess the bad things get a grip on a father more, what with all the
worriting I done, waiting for any news I could, always fearing the
worst. So when news does finally come, I seem more prepared somehow to
hear the bad, and the good slips right past me.
“That business with Legolas was a marvel! I should of hit on that right
off. Legolas on the mend? That is all I could of hoped for--indeed,
more than I dared hope after Gimli told me that the poor fool made
hisself a ring. Elves, dwarves, and ents all working a great healing
together? My but Ive lived to see such wonderful times! Whod of
thought? And to finally learn the origins of our own people, told in a
faraway land--dont that beat all!
“And what an origin it is! Here I spent my early days hankering after
the sight of an elf, and all I had to do was look in the mirror--and
see there dwarf and man as well. But I guess you have to look out
before you can see in, if you take my meaning--the best thing that ever
happened to me was the day I let my desire to see elves tip the scales
as to which way I should go. (Your mother is reading over my shoulder
and making those “hmf!” noises of hers, but she and I both know I
wouldent be the Sam she married if it were otherwise.)
“But my goodness Legolas had an awful time of it, dident he? Poor
fellow! Im glad his troubles are over (not that Id fancy a stint inside
a willow myself, but I suppose it aint too bad for elves if some have
done it for the fun of it, if I understand correctly.) It cant have
been too jolly for you, either--I know a thing or two about dealing
with crazy people. But I am proud of how you handled it, Frodo--you
stood by him, and you got him through.
“Wonderful about Mays magnifying glass. I am glad you have it with
you--and May is glad she gave it to you. Its been a comfort to her,
dont you know. Think of it as holding all the love of your family like
the Phial of Galadriel held light--because I think it does, lad. I do
think that the love its been magnifying has had something to do with
some of the stranger goings-on around it--like how you got inspired to
use it to make the others see elves.
"But have a care! Gandalf used to be a mite suspicious about mortals
handling even the toys of elves, if they had magic in them. Magic has a
mind of its own, Frodo. Still, Arwen wouldent of given such a thing if
she thought it might do any harm, and she knows more about these things
than ol Sam Gamgee, I daresay. But I think its changing somehow, I
don’t know how. Id be careful if I were you.
“And now I understand a thing or two about your brother Tom as well. Do
you know hes planning on entering Strider in the races at the Midsummer
Fair, racing him hisself? Young as he is, but aint nobody laughing.
Everybody knows that nobody rides a pony better than our Tom in all the
Shire. And oh do the critters love him! He can sweet-talk the ornriest
nag into good behavior.
"Ol Man Proudfoot wants to know when Ill let him prentice for a
ranch-hand, but I keep telling him the boy is way too young. Pippin
Took says that Proudfoots really scared to death Ill buy Tom his own
ranch and put the Proudfeet out of business, but I dont hold with
helping younguns out so far they dont learn how to help themselves.
(Not but I wouldent like to see the fellow get a little friendly
competition--he’s been charging a mean rate for his ponies of late.)
Now the old goat brings his daughter over to play with our kids as
often as he can--Tom and Blossom are barely out of diapers and already
hes matchmaking, and all for keeping his propitty in the family! Ill
have to make sure that Tom has his own say about his future,
irregardless of all this meddling going on.
“The lens might be changing for your protection, in some sense, being
full of love, in response to Legolas and what he bore. And no, I
don’t mean that tomfool ring. The things you say about Sauron bother
me, Frodo. As Ive said before, it seems like the old tales never
end--though I sure wish some would! You keep in mind what that
dwarf-gaffer had to say and you stay on your toes, lad! A blowfly can
kill a full-sized horse if he makes a dirty enough wound. Dont let him
get under your skin, nohow! I talk about what I know, boy, you listen
to your Papa.
“And your Papa knows it wont be easy, and stands behind you all the
way. If you get strange notions into your head that sound like they
come from Sauron, you write them down and send them to me--I wont think
the less of you. In fact, Ill think better of you for having the sense
to talk them out afore they cause you any trouble. When I recall what
Sharkey did to this country with naught but the power of persuasion, I
shudder to think of something even worse whispering in your ear like
that, but I know I raised you strong and good. Even if you get an idea
as bad as Ted Sandymans, you talk to me, and we will work together to
keep it from happening. A whole lot of things might of been different
if that blighter had had the guts to admit that he needed help with
what that wizard was doing to him. (Then again he dident seem to
recognize a bad idea if it came and spit him in the eye.) Point is,
Frodo, dont you try to handle nothing all alone.
“That business about the poppy gums a case in point. The coldest fear
of my life was when I read how you got all twisted up just thinking
about it--and with the kind of life Ive led, thats saying something!
(People who aint parents have no idea.) But the fact is, you got
through it. You went to Eowyn, just like you should of. You had the
sense to talk it out and work it out--and I am prouder of you for that
moment, Frodo, than for your battle with the orc, even. Ive fought
orcs, and Ive fought the temptations of Sauron, and Ill take orcs any
day! But youve got to admit your headed for trouble afore you can ask
for help.
Take Denethor--youve read all about him in the Red Book, Im sure.
Pippens told me a lot about the ol Steward, having waited on him and
all, and gotten to know him better than folks might think, and he says
that what overthrew the man, really, was all the thoughts he dident
want to admit he was thinking in the first place. He turned his back on
them, and he thought that made him strong, but all it meant was that
those thoughts could take a whack at the backside of his head where he
wasent looking.
“I wish I was right there with you, Son, so we could talk things out
together face to face. Bleoboris says it takes half the time for mail
to go from point to point as it takes for travelers to ride (plus a day
more for him to amble in from Bree, but he dident say that) on account
of their switching galloping horses and all, but that still will put
the mail between you and me at about a months travel, once you reach
the shores of Nurnen. But maybe writing things down in letters will
help anyways. I know that writing things down in the Red Book has
helped me sort all kinds of problems out--there are memories I couldent
handle any other way. Just try and picture what your Papa would say to
you back, if that will help.
“I tell you what. If theres anything you want to write just to your ol
Papa and to nobody else, draw a kind of box around that part--Ill be
sure not to read it to the rest, then. We should of thought of that
sooner, but better late than never. And dont let nothing you might say
embarrass you, neither. I may be your father, but Ive also been around
the world and back, and seen a few things, and understand a few things
that others might not. They say that when your children are little you
got to be a parent to them and not a buddy, but once they grow up you
got to be a buddy to them and not just a parent anymore. Youve got a
few years left to go, by the book, but your on your own now and too far
away to pat on the back or turn over my knee either one, so I guess
your as growed as your gonna get for all practical purposes. No, I take
that back--you never stop growing, not if your smart. But as far as Im
concerned, were buddies now. Humor me, though, as the elder buddy, and
still give an ear to my advice, will you? You might find I get smarter
as the years go by!"
Frodo couldn't help but laugh at that. "He's making the best of a bad
situation," he murmured. "Wily old politician! He would never
offer to be my 'buddy' if he stood close enough to strike the fear of
Mandos in me!" Yet at the same time (a little puzzled as to why he'd
entertain such cynical opinions in the first place)Frodo felt deeply
touched.
“As for the dreams, you take after your father there, no doubt about
it! You not only described the ocean perfectly--better than I could,
and Ive seen it--but you also described the Cracks of Doom. From where
I sit I can see those dreams were trying to tell you that Legolas had a
ring and it was doing him harm. You pay attention to your dreams,
Frodo--real dreams, mind you, and not some poppy-gendered lie--and Ill
rest easier knowing that your tapping into some help thats moren I
could give.
“Seems to me youve got the gift of dreaming about real things you never
laid eyes on, too. Your namesake had the same gift, sometimes. I know
Ive told you a hundred times that he bequeathed to me more than his
propitty, that he also passed on all the living that he might of done
here in Middle Earth if the ring hadent messed with him. But what I
havent told you is that I named you Frodo for a reason. How can I put
this? You are my son through and through, by blood and by heart, and no
mistake, but on some mysterious level you are also his son--the son he
should of had. Sometimes you take after him in surprising ways.
“I hope I dident worry you too much with my other letters, Son. I cant
hardly remember half of what I wrote, now, but thats all water over the
ford. My unpopularity over sending you out actually worked in my favor
at the last town meeting. Seems that folks fell right behind me on the
need to cut the pipeweed trade to Rohan and Dale, because the world out
there seemed all the more dangerous with the Mayor’s son out missing in
it. But now its a done deal and folksll stand by it even with good news
from you. It helps that good ol Merry Brandybuck (See? Im over being
mad at him already!) gave the word to his own folks to cut the trade
afore he left, which pretty much dried up the flow of pipeweed then and
there, except for a couple of Tooks, riding freelance on the small
scale, and The Took soon put a halt to that, though its hurt him hard
in the purse--if Merry made a bundle transporting pipeweed, Pippin made
a bundle growing it. The Bolgers waited to hear what I had to say
before they filled in the trade-gap, bless them--they never did take
against me this whole time, same as the Tooks and the better part of
the Brandybucks, while the Cottons and Goodchilds and the other
Gamgees, of course, stood by me, whatever they thought amongst
themselves. At times like this you sure do know who your friends are.
“Not much news about the family. Your brother Robin fell out of a tree
and broke a tooth, but were hoping hes young enough hell grow another
back. Tom, as I say, is all for racing at the Midsummer Fair. Elanor
and Fastred have moved back in here at Bag End for the winter--its been
a cold one and they cant live in tents while waiting for their new home
to be dug at the Far Downs.
“Your mother doesent mind you trading her preserves for fresh
milk--shes just glad your eating right--shes been expecting you to
starve every step outside the Shire, and I cant tell her otherwise. Do
you know you missed her birthday? She doesent mind that either--says
youve got enough on your mind without worriting about little things
like that. Shes none too pleased about the scar, of course, but shell
forgive all if you just come home in one piece, dont you worry about
that--no matter how tall you might be. She also wants you to know that
if she fainted as easy as you seem to think (all right, as easy as she
pretends sometimes) shed of never survived the Troubles. And yes, she
did like hearing the description of Lady Eowyns chemise, though she
thought the severed monster-head on the back was in poor taste.
“Your sister Rosie-Lass has taken to weaving tapestries. Shes not bad
so far, though she could use a bit of practice. At first she wanted me
to buy her all kinds of expensive yarns, but I told her if she wanted
them that bad she could weave some plain stuff first, and sell that,
and then buy herself the yarns she wants for the fancy stuff. She
pouted and called me a miser, but I dont want my children growing up
like Lotho did, thinking their entitled to everything under the sun
just
because their Papa came into some money--look what a bad end he came
to! But shes just at that tetchy age, is all. Dont smirk--you went
through it, too! Matter of fact, Frodo, you still have your moments,
but Im just saying it cause I love you.
“At least you never axed me to spend a heap of money on you. Thats one
thing about you that always did me proud, Frodo--you never stuck at a
little work, and when you wanted fine tools for the garden, youd figure
out a way to earn them. Youve always understood that Ive got to use the
money given me for the Shire, once Ive seen to it that my own familys
comfortable--comfortable, mind you, not carried on silk cushions like a
Harad princess! I know I sent the right hobbit for the job when I
picked you for the Kings mission. Youll do me proud in Mordor, Frodo,
just like you always do.
“I miss you, son. But I am glad your on your way. Youll come out the best for all this adventuring, mark my words!”
“Love always–
“--Papa.
“O my son, my son, I love you moren I can tell!”
“P.S.--Write! Keep on writing as you go, same as you done so far. Dont
let me miss a day, hear? I never been so glad I learned my letters--and
taught my children!--as I am right now.”
In his mother’s handwriting, Frodo read, “Your Papas the big one on
words and writing and all. But Frodo, oh my darling, I never forgot the
day Molly the Midwife told me, “Youve got yourself a son, Missus
Gamgee,” and she put you on my breast, and all the pain fell away with
a touch of your tiny hand. Oh Frodo, I was so scared for you! We all
lose our parents sooner or later--we expect that. And we expect that
weve got even odds of outliving a spouse. But there aint no pain worse
in all the world than to lose the child that you bore. It aint natural.
And I thought for sure I lost you, my son. Dont you never scare me like
that again! Write all the letters you are able, and I will read them
all. Or I’ll have Sam read them to me--reading letters gives me
headaches, if you must know, and your handwritings just a bit too fancy
for my eyes to handle with any comfort. (Do you really need all those
flips and curls, Frodo?) But believe me, my dear one, I will hang on
every word!
“Love, and love, and more love still–
Your Mother.”
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