Samara Gamgee

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize as Tolkien's.

*~*~*~*~*

The square was in an uproar with activity. Mischievous were abound, preparing meals, decorating, and so forth.

To Frodo’s eyes, all looked well, just as Bilbo would want it to look.

He couldn’t help the silly smile on his lips at the thought of Bilbo’s party, and what was liable to go on there, later.

There would be dancing and storytelling galore; laughter and excitement; giddiness and probable pranks from the more puckish members of Hobbiton. Several, if not all, of the guests would become intoxicated by the Gaffer’s specially brewed ale.

The Gaffer! That reminded him! Sam, where was she?

Frodo hurried down the incline to reach the site. It was near twilight, already, and the party started in no less than an hour. If he was going to find Sam, it had be now!

Bumping into a few Halflings he did not know, he hurried to find the Gaffer, who he knew was there. Finding him in the western corner, brewing another barrel of his ale, Frodo slowed his pace and stopped just at the entrance of the cloth tent. Sam’s father looked up to see him, out of breath and flushed.

“Steady on there, boy!” he said. “What’s yer hurry?”

“I’m looking for your daughter Sam, sir.” Frodo said, standing up straight and rubbing his neck.
“Have you seen her?”

The Gaffer let out a true laugh. “Well, boy-o,” he said, “ye just missed ‘er! She just ran up to the Bag End to deliver somethin’ to yer uncle! Jest came from helpin’ Miss Rosie clean out the Green Dragon!” he finished with a delighted chuckle.

“Oh. Thank you!” Frodo said suddenly. With no farewell, Frodo vaulted off again, leaving the Gaffer to shake his head and continue to chuckle as he watched the ale brew.

“The boy’s gettin’ cracked as his uncle!” he chortled to himself as he stirred.

*~*~*~*~*

There was a knock on the round door of the Bag End, disturbing Bilbo Baggins and Gandalf and their deeply serious conversation.

“Oh, not again!” Bilbo grunted in irritation. Those blasted relatives never gave him any peace.

Springing up from his seat, he marched to the front door, ready to tell off whoever it was that upset his peaceful reunion and get them to leave him alone!

*~*~*~*~*

Samara waited patiently outside the door to Bag End, a gift basket on her arm, rocking back and forth on her feet and humming an old tune. She was already dressed in her party clothes. She expected Mr. Bilbo to answer soon, and welcome her. He always seemed to like her, that Bilbo.

Her Gaffer told her he had been expecting this little delivery for some time: the recipe for his best batch of ale, along with a few other knick-knacks. She was not told why he’d requested it, only that Bilbo would no doubt use it in the future.

“No! No!”

The shout from behind the door startled her. She stumbled back a couple of steps.

“Whoever you are, we don’t want any more visitors today! Run along, now!

The previous shock on her face was replaced by a merry smile as she realized Bilbo’s disposition.
She stifled a giggle and simply said “Mr. Bilbo, it’s me, Samara! I’ve come to deliver something from my Gaffer!”

Inside, Bilbo let out a relieved breath and opened the door. He smiled when he saw Samara’s rosy cheeks and dazzling smile.

“Sam, dear! How have you been?”

“Just fine, sir.” she replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that, child.” he apologized. “It’s just all of these confounded well-wishers! Can’t have a moment’s peace without one of them coming and knocking! Especially those Sackville-Bagginses!” he added to her in a whisper.

“It’s all right, Mr. Bilbo. I understand.” Sam amended. I have something for you. A present from my Gaffer and I.” she said, passing him the handbasket.

“Oh, isn’t that delightful!” he stated, his smile broadening as he took the basket from her stretched arm. “Thank you, my dear.”

His eyes skimmed over the contents briefly. A small book, a bottle of what looked to be ale, and some roses, likely grown by Samara, herself, were what he found.

“Oh, this is lovely!” he commented.

“You’re quite welcome, Mr. Bilbo, sir.” Sam cheerily said.

“Eh, would you like to come in for a spot of tea, lass? I’ve just got some finished.” Bilbo invited.
Sam suddenly grimaced. “Sorry, Mr. Bilbo, sir. I can’t. My Gaffer wants me back at the square as soon as possible.”

Bilbo kept his kind smile. “That’s alright. Maybe another time, then.”

“Of course.” Sam said, smiling once again. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Bilbo!” she called as she walked back to the gate.

“Good-bye, Sam!” he called back, waving to her as she strode down the pathway to the square.

*~*~*~*~*

Bilbo closed the door with a sigh and retreated back to his dining room..

He sat the basket down on his desk as he re-entered. He knew he was going to miss many things about the Shire when he left, including young Sam. She was such a delightful young lady, well-mannered and cheerful. And she and Frodo were such good friends.

Yes, he could count on Sam to be there for Frodo when he left.

“Well, Gandalf,” he said, “Frodo’s not the only one I’ll miss around here.”

“I know.” Gandalf sagely replied. “The both of them would have gone with you, if you’d asked it of them.”

“I know...but in my heart, I think that Frodo and Sam are still in love with the Shire. You know, I always thought I’d like to see the day the two of them made something more of that friendship. They do seem to fancy each other.”

“Really?” Gandalf fairly mumbled, fingering his pipe. He hadn’t noticed such an attraction between the two. But, then, he hadn’t visited the Shire in a good while.

“At least, I believe so. Frodo’s always so positive when Sam’s around. He even helps her with the gardening. Yes, I think Frodo has developed a bit of a soft spot for young Sam.”

Gandalf smiled ruefully. He knew Bilbo’s mind was indeed getting older, and his fanciful thinking was taking its toll. He’d made a wise decision in leaving the Shire.

Aye, it was just Bilbo’s old imagination.

*~*~*~*~*

Outside, Sam had just passed the market and was halfway back to the square. The sun was nearly down, and the entire street seemed deserted.

‘Probably already at the party.’ she mused. There were always several early birds arriving at any grand party in the Shire.

Sam had been looking at her bare feet in her pondering, not paying attention to the road ahead, when she heard her name being called.

“Sam!”

That voice was unmistakable. Frodo Baggins. Her head snapped up to attention.

Sure enough, Frodo was rushing up the road to meet her, a gentle grin on his face. His dark curls bounced and his eyes shone as he continued uphill. Sam thought he looked beautiful. How could she not? She’d been fancying Frodo since she was a tween, herself.

Her heart leapt up to her throat as he came closer. She quickly tried to swallow it back down and re-gather her thoughts. She needed to have her intelligence intact to be able to talk to Frodo.

No sooner had she accomplished her feat, than Frodo was standing right in front of her, slightly out of breath. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” he said.

Sam was surprised, but tried not to let it show. “For me, Mr. Frodo?” she asked innocently.
Frodo smiled. Sam could be overly demure at times. He wanted her to be able to talk to him like he was her friend, not her employer.

“Yes, you, silly!” he laughed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at him shyly.
Daze
“I was hoping to catch you before the party started. By the way, the square looks wonderful!”

“Th-thank you, Mr. Frodo.” she muttered, glancing at her feet once again.

“Sam,” Frodo raised his brows and shook his head, “how many times do I have to say it? We’re friends! Just call me Frodo!”

“Alright, sir...I-I mean Frodo.”

Frodo smothered a sigh. She’d still need some time to get used to it, he supposed.

“Well, come on, then.” he changed the subject. “Let’s head down to the square. The party’s already begun.”

“Already?” Sam asked, dazed. “But Mr. Bilbo’s not even there, yet!”

“You know how some people are, Sam.” Frodo told her. “They just can’t wait to have their fun!”

As soon as he’d spoken, a flowering orange light burst overhead. The fireworks were just beginning.

Quickly, Frodo grabbed Sam by the hand and began to pull her back towards the gala in the field.
“Come on!” he cried. “Let’s go!”

Sam obediently followed him, still reeling over the fact that Frodo Baggins was holding her hand.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Whoo! I'm on a roll, lately! Expect another chapter up really soon!