Chapter Text
Sam.
Sam Gamgee had always tried hard. Even as a young hobbit he had paid as much attention as he could at school, then at home as the Gaffer showed him the proper way to coax flowers out of the earth and grow the biggest pumpkins the shire had ever seen. As he grew and met Frodo, he always gave Frodo his all too. He’d never met anyone so special. As soon as he grew old enough to know what love was he’d known he felt it for Frodo. He cared for him deeply and effortlessly. Frodo moving into Bag End was one of the best things that had ever happened to Sam, and working in Bag End’s garden and getting to sit with Frodo at the end of the day on the garden wall in content silence smoking pipeweed filled Sam’s heart with joy.
He knew in the pit of his stomach Frodo didnt see him the same way. How could he? Frodo was perfect, smart and daring and gorgeous. Sam was just sam, a fact many girls had repeated to him when Frodo coaxed Sam into dancing in the pub or at festivals. Sam hated when this happened. He hated making himself dance with Rosie or other semi interested young hobbits when all he wanted was to sweep Frodo off his feet and kiss him in the middle of the dance floor.
The fateful day when Gandalf the wizard had caught Sam under the window Sam knew resigned he’d have to go with Frodo, even before the wizard had suggested it. He would protect Frodo, even if it meant walking with him to end.
Saying goodbye to the Gaffer was hard. Sam didnt know how long it would be to get to Rivendell, and in fact if he’d return at all. Instead of worrying his old dad he decided to tell him he was just heading to Bree for a while and would be back when he could. He felt immense guilt misleading his father but couldnt bear the thought of his folks worrying after it.
He met Frodo at bag end, backpack over his shoulder and began the journey, his nerves twisted into knots and his heart pining after the hobbit at his side.