Sam/Frodo Fic

[said_scarlett]

This would be the other piece I wrote for lennaofmidearth.

As I mentioned before, LoTR fan fiction makes me nervous. I'm morbidly afraid of screwing something up, because I just don't know the canon as well as I know HP canon. Otherwise my poor Flist would be flooded with my attempts at Faramir/Eomar slash. (Go me, I like the one pairing that just doesn't exist at all. Recs are welcome. I found one fic centering on the pairing and it sucked, horribly.)

But anyway, back to the story of my forrays into Sam/Frodo. Apparently at one point there was a small dry spell of fluffy Sam/Frodo slash. lennaofmidearth was bemoaning this fact, so I wrote her a fic. I've never wandered back to LotR fan fiction since. I think it's safe to say that I'm far more suited to HP.

Title: When the Mind Wanders

There was a huge warning for this on FFN, but I figure you people don't need one.

Summary: Sam's been doing a lot of thinking. The sorts of thoughts a hobbit ought not to have. And when he thinks Mr. Frodo suspects....

Rating: PG for fluffy kisses



Sam watched.

From across the yard at Bag End, he watched. At South Farthing, he watched. From inside the Green Dragon he watched. Down on Bywater road, he watched. He watched, and he wondered, and then he cursed himself for wondering. Those thoughts weren’t for the likes of him.

But thoughts weren’t something a hobbit had control over. They just crept up sometimes, all by themselves. It wasn’t as if he thought them on purpose. Like now. He was minding his own business, and minding the bushes while he was at it. They were long past trimming, and he wasn’t going to leave them a moment longer!

But trimming bushes didn’t take much thought, and that left the mind to wander. It wandered down roads named Mr. Frodo’s Eyes, and I Wonder If He’ll Smile At Me Today? And then the whole cycle started all over again, and Sam rather wished his mind would just stop thinking altogether.

“S’not right!” he mumbled to himself, face screwed up in frustration at himself and his treacherous mind. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Samwise Gamgee!”

“Everything all right, Sam?”

“Oh! Mr. Frodo!” Sam jumped, dropping his clippers and well near swallowing his heart. He hadn’t heard a sound, and Mr. Frodo was right behind him!

“Sorry Sam. I didn’t mean to startle you. Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes.” Sam nodded, grinning in what had to be a foolish manner. What if he’d been heard? That would have been awful! “Don’t know where my head was!”

“I’d say your heads right on your shoulders Sam.” Frodo grinned, and Sam let out a quick laugh.

“That it is, Mr. Frodo, that it is!”

“When you’re done with the bush’s, come on inside. I’d imagine you’re hungry.”

“Oh I certainly am!” Sam was still chuckling, but he felt his stomach sinking. What happened if his mind started to wander? What if he started watching Mr. Frodo, right there in the kitchen! He nearly dropped his clippers again, and could only nod as Mr. Frodo walked away. He could always slip off…

Oh. But Mr. Frodo wouldn’t be too happy about that. Sam didn’t want to make Mr. Frodo angry! He was in quite the mess. Well, if he just popped in real quick like, and excused himself just as quick there wouldn’t be much of a problem then! He nodded to himself, happy with his decision. He’d be happy, Mr. Frodo would be happy, and he’d have himself something to eat. There wasn’t much else he needed to make the day a good one!

***

“Sam, there you are.” Mr. Frodo smiled as Sam came in, bobbing his head as he did so.

“Bush’s are all done then,” Sam said, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. ‘Go on and have a look, if you’d like.”

“Oh no, I trust you Sam. Have a seat.”

“Thank you Mr. Frodo.”

“You really don’t need to be so formal.” Frodo sat down across from him, looking quite cheerful.

“Just being polite. Always good to be polite it is…”

“I know, I know.” Frodo chuckled, and Sam realized he’d said the same thing plenty of times before. But it was true!

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry Sam, it’s all right.” Those thoughts were sneaking up on him again. He couldn’t stop them, and he starts *watching*. Not just looking. Looking was what you did with your eyes, watching was with the mind. He watched, and he saw something he hadn’t noticed before.

“Is everything all right Mr. Frodo? It’s only you look a might bit peckish…”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m all right. Didn’t sleep well that’s all. It was a windy night, wasn’t it?”

“My yes!” Sam nodded enthusiastically. “If you can’t sleep, brew yourself some lavender tea. Works wonders, my Gaffer always said.”

“I’ll have to try that Sam, thank you.”

“Oh, always happy to help.” Sam smiled, still watching. No matter what Mr. Frodo said, something was on his mind. Sam could tell. He didn’t learn nothing from all that time spent watching. Frodo was looking around, but just with his eyes. He wasn’t looking at Sam. It couldn’t be…

Mr. Frodo didn’t know, did he? How could he? Sam had always been careful, always kept his thoughts to himself. But…Mr. Frodo was so smart! If anyone was going to find out, it would be him! No, that couldn’t be it. They wouldn’t be sitting here, nice as can be if Mr. Frodo knew. So it was something else then.

Was Mr. Frodo mad at him? That could be it. He never was very good at being mad. But what had he done, then? He frowned as he thought, trying to think of anything he could have done to make Mr. Frodo angry. He had let that bush grow past it’s trimming…

“Oh! I asked you in for food!” Frodo jumped up, laughing a little bit. “Where’s *my* head today?”

“On your shoulders, Mr. Frodo!” Sam couldn’t help it, and they both had another little laugh. But Sam’s was nervous, and he watched Frodo as the other hobbit busied himself in the kitchen. But those sorts of thoughts were pushed aside in favor of bread and cheese, and a bowl of fresh fruit. Maybe it was nothing. Sam knew he sometimes took things too much to heart, but he couldn’t help it.

“How have you been, Sam?”

“Oh, just fine.” Sam spoke between bites of food, realizing he was *very* hungry.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, Mr. Frodo.” Sam wiped a bit of cheese and crumb off of his fingers, and noticed Frodo looking at him.

No. Not looking. Watching.

He could tell. There was that little difference that said Frodo was seeing with his mind, not just his eyes. He was studying, figuring. And that made Sam nervous.

“Everything all right then?”

“Oh. Yes.” Frodo shook his head, almost as though to clear it. “Just tired.”

“Lavender tea sir, lavender tea.”

There was an awkward silence, and Sam wasn’t sure why. How many times before had Mr. Frodo asked him in for a bite to eat? And certainly they spoke…well, all the time really! But something was different. Sam knew he wasn’t the brightest of hobbits, but he knew when something was amiss with Mr. Frodo.

“Sam…” Frodo looked up, suddenly, and Sam didn’t understand why he looked so sad.

“Yes?”

“You…we’re good friends, aren’t we?”

“Oh yes sir!” Sam broke into a wide grin, he couldn’t help it. He knew Mr. Frodo was fond of him, but it always made him feel good when he called them friends.


“If I told you something, you wouldn’t be cross with me?”

“Well Mr. Frodo…I think it depends on what you were telling me,” Sam said, seriously. He thought long and hard, and after a moment he continued. “I’d be mighty upset if you told me you wanted me to leave and never come back, and that you were through with me on account of whatever reasons you had.”

“Oh no Sam!” Frodo shook his head. “No, I don’t want you to leave. I’d go mad without you, I should think.”

“You’re too kind to me, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said softly. He was just being nice was all. He wouldn’t go mad, it was just something to be said.

“No I’m not Sam.” Frodo looked down at the table top, voice dropping just a bit. “I’m not half as kind as you deserve.”

“Oh yes you are! I don’t half deserve how kind you are!” How could Mr. Frodo say such a thing? “You’re good to me sir, and you’re kind and you treat me right decent. Don’t you ever think anything else!”

“If only you knew, Sam…” Frodo stood up, turning away. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t sleep much last night. I should probably go lie down…”

“If I offended you, I’m right sorry!” Sam jumped up, upsetting the table and chair as he did so. He couldn’t stand to see Frodo upset, especially if it was because of him!

“No Sam, you didn’t offend me.” Frodo shook his head and turned again, facing Sam. “It’s all right, it really is.”

“No’s not.” Sam shook his head stubbornly. “I know you, Mr. Frodo and something’s not right. Maybe you can’t tell me, but if I can do anything…”

“You can’t.”

“Then I ought to just go then.” Sam wrung his hands, not wanting to go at all. He wanted to stay and try and cheer up Mr. Frodo, but Mr. Frodo didn’t want him to. “But if you need me…”

Frodo just stared-watched-and slowly he took a step forward. Sam was frozen, locked in place by the proximity and those eyes. He’d thought of those eyes more times then he could remember, and he felt as though his legs were going to just give out on him.

It looked as though Mr. Frodo was going to say something else, his lips parted just slightly, but nothing came out. But that was all right, because Sam was just lost in those eyes and in the fact that he was right there and getting closer every second.

It was almost like those daydreams, the ones he wanted to flay himself alive over. Frodo’s lips parted, leaning forward, one hand hesitantly placed on his shoulder….hesitant? Mr. Frodo was *never* hesitant in Sam’s daydreams. This wasn’t a day dream, it was happening.

Sam’s mind had only enough time to register that much, before Frodo’s lips were pressed softly against his. After that, all thought Stopped. There was nothing, just soft lips pressed against his in a manner that was both odd and oddly familiar. And then they were gone.

“Sam! I’m…I’m sorry…” Frodo was backing away, looking horrified. Sam was still stunned, one hand going to his lips, pressing them as though he could still feel Frodo’s kiss.

“You kissed me, Mr. Frodo.” His mind was still trying to catch up, and not doing that good a job of it.

“I..I don’t know what came over me Sam. I’m sorry…please don’t be angry with me…”

“Oh no sir.” Sam shook his head, still slightly in awe. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“Oh no.” Sam grinned, a silly and pleased thing. “I’ve been wanting you to kiss me for…a right long time, I’d say.”

“Sam?” Frodo’s voice was suspicious, as though he didn’t believe him. “Are you…you want me to?”

“Oh yes!” Sam nodded enthusiastically. He had no idea how this had happened, but Samwise Gamgee wasn’t a hobbit to let something he’d always wanted pass him by! Not when it was Mr. Frodo!

“And you’re not angry?”

“Not in the least!” Sam looked down, blushing. “I’m…I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I’m sweet on you.”

“That’s all right then.” Frodo sounded relieved. “I’m rather sweet on you, too.”

This time the silence that followed was awkward, but not in a bad away. Sam cleared his throat, not quite certain what happened now. They couldn’t very well court each other, that sort of thing just wasn’t done.

“What now, then?” Frodo asked, softly.

“I don’t rightly know, Mr. Frodo.” Sam shrugged, wishing he did. “But I reckon another kiss wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.”

“No!” Frodo laughed, wrapping his arms around Sam and pulling him close. “No, I don’t think it would be!”

And things figured themselves out rather well from there.



Yeah....I'm so putting off working on 'Eternity'. *Prods Sirius gently*