Samara Gamgee

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

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The party was in full swing by the time they’d arrived. Bilbo was greeting the myriad of guests pouring in, some with more courtesy than others. Frodo recognized that Bilbo remembered who he had and hadn’t invited.

He hurriedly pulled Sam out to the center of the dance. Letting go of his hand, Sam stopped near a table and watched as Frodo continued to run and then begin to join in the dancing, himself.

She laughed gaily at his merrymaking antics. He wasn’t a particularly good dancer, but he was having fun, and that made his dancing all the more enjoyable.

He danced with several young lasses on the floor, while Sam sat down on a bench nearby and clapped in time with the music.

Every so often, when he danced with a pretty young girl, Sam would try to squash down her jealousy, hoping Frodo didn’t fancy the girl he was dancing with.

She watched for a good half-hour until Frodo left his last partner and sat down next to her. She glanced at him narrowly, then continued her clapping to try and hide the blush creeping up on her cheeks.

Frodo watched her, seemingly uninterested in his approach, but smiled, nonetheless. She seemed to be enjoying the music, but she hadn’t danced at all.

“Come on, Sam!” he shouted over the sound of the crowd. “Won’t you dance with me?”

Sam was momentarily stunned by his request. She looked at him sharply, and saw his playful grin. ‘Is he out to embarrass me?’

Returning her gaze to the mass of revelers, she declined coyly. “No...I-I think I’ll just wait for a slower song.”

Frodo looked as if he didn’t believe she would dance at all. Sam swiftly stood from her seat. “I need an ale.” she declared, clipped.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Frodo laughed, pulling her back by her hand and sweeping her back into the herd of people.

He quickly drew her into a dance, circling her in a speedy waltz, in and about and around the other couples on the work in the garden.

Albeit their steps were a bit clumsy at times, Sam couldn’t deny that she’d been having more fun than ever. She’d often dreamed of being in Frodo’s arms, though not always dancing with him.

She suddenly felt inadequate. She didn’t dance often, and was just following his steps. But she kept smiling and giggling along with him, the movements making her giddy.

Frodo was having similar thoughts, at the time. Of all the ladies he’d danced with that night, Sam was the most fun to be with. The other girls chattered incessantly about his uncle’s adventures and how lucky he was to be related to Bilbo. Others even asked about how he thought they looked that night.

Sam didn’t talk about very much, but she did smile and laugh a lot, a sure sign she was enjoying this as much as he was. She occasionally tripped on his feet, and he on hers, but that only made them laugh more!

They danced several dances together, some slow, and some quick in pace. Frodo continued to look only at Sam, noting things he hadn’t noticed before.

Her hair was a lovely golden brown color, and he noted a bit of red in her roots. Her eyes were blue, much like his, but somewhat gray. She had a sprinkling of nearly transparent golden freckles across her nose and peachy cheeks.

Her dress was a sage green color, the bodice somewhat tight-fitting. A linen blouse lay underneath it, bunched at her elbows, embroidered with ivy. She even had pink ribbons and small flowers laced in her thick curls.

She looked beautiful. He’d never thought of her as beautiful before. Just pretty, the pretty Gaffer’s daughter that worked in the garden for Bilbo and himself.

Tonight, however, she seemed to glow, especially in her smiles. He supposed he just hadn’t seen it before.

Frodo’s eyes were intent on her face, Sam noticed. She wondered what he was thinking, and why he didn’t even look anywhere else. The song had slowed to an old folk ballad, and the two swayed together in the drowsy flute’s melody.

She could feel her face heating up, and tried to lower her eyes so he wouldn’t mark it.

Too late, she realized, when he tipped her chin up with his finger, and looked at her again.

The tender moment was broken when Bilbo suddenly grabbed Frodo from behind.

“Sackville-Bagginses!” he exclaimed. “Quickly! Hide!”

Frodo followed his uncle through the crowd, Sam trailing them both from behind. Otho and Lobelia were sourly pushing their way through the crowd to catch them.

Reaching a nearby tent, the two Bagginses stopped. Bilbo covered his face with his jacket, hoping to hide the both of them. Sam stood in front of them in an attempt to help shield them.

The Sackvilles paused next to the tent, absorbed in finding Bilbo. Seeing only the Gamgee girl, they decided to move on, their scowls firmly planted on their faces.

Sam let out the breath she’d been holding as the two left earshot. A confrontation with the Sackville-Bagginses would not have ended well, she knew.

She tapped Bilbo’s shoulder lightly. “They’re gone.” she murmured to him.

Bilbo and Frodo let out a collective sigh. A smile suddenly appeared on Bilbo’s face. He patted Frodo’s shoulder, somewhat awkwardly.

“Oh, thank you both.” he said. “You’re so good to me.”

He suddenly became serious. “I’m very selfish, you know. Yes, I am. Very selfish.” he added at Frodo’s gaze. “I don’t know why I took you in after your mother and father died, but it wasn’t out of charity. I think it was because, of all my numerous relations, you were the one Baggins that showed real spirit.”

Sam seemed bemused by Bilbo’s little soliloquy. Frodo grinned, however, and gave Bilbo a strange look. “Bilbo, have you been at the Gaffer’s home brew?”

Sam snickered at the comment, knowing her father’s brew was quite powerful stuff. Bilbo looked a bit dumfounded by the question. “No!...well,” he said, “yes...but that’s not the point!” he quickly rectified.

“The point is, Frodo, you’ll be alright.”

This struck Frodo as odd for a reason. True, his uncle was odd, by nature, but why would he tell him this? He looked at Sam. She only shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip. Bilbo took another sip of his ale and was off, leaving the two alone once again.

Frodo decided to forget his uncle’s words, for now, and extended his hand to the miss in front of him. With a grin, he asked, “Shall we return to the dance floor, milady?”

Shaking her head in mirth, she placed her hand in his and curtly replied “We shall, milord!”

The two shared a smile and proceeded to walk back to the floor.

A particularly loud crash resounded in the sky above them, interrupting.

Gasps were heard from all over. Looking up, along with everyone else, the two saw a bright flash of red light. Just fireworks, they thought, as they clapped for the display.

The lights suddenly clustered together to take the terrifying form of a dragon. The cheers died down, and a panic ensued. People ran in all directions as the figure came to swoop down towards them.

Frodo pulled Sam along with him as he called for his uncle to watch out for the dragon.

“Dragon?” Bilbo questioned as Frodo and Sam reached him. “Nonsense!” he said, not paying attention to the stampeding around him. “There hasn’t been a dragon in these parts for a thousand years!”

His statement was cut short slightly, as all of the Hobbits hit the ground, Frodo pulling Bilbo and Sam with him. Frodo barely noticed that he had pulled Sam atop him, in his hurry.

The dragon flew over the mass, narrowly missing them before flying upwards again. Eyes peered up from everywhere just in time to watch the dragon burst in an array of numerous colors, creating a mural in the sky.

Cheers even louder than before sounded from the crowd, as they began to rise from their prostrate positions.

Sam and Frodo had just recognized their positions, and hesitated slightly to right them. It was Frodo’s turn to blush madly. Not only because he was in a rather compromising position with Sam, but because he found he liked the feeling and didn’t really want to get up just yet.

Sam, however, quickly pushed herself off of Frodo and righted her skirts. If she were ever able to look him in the eye again, she’d still never be able to function her tongue properly.

Frodo stood soon after, watching her in her fluster. He, too, was embarrassed, but tried to cover it as best he could.

“Are you all right, Sam?” he asked nervously.

Knowing she could no longer avoid his eyes, she looked at him timidly and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

While Masters Meriadoc and Peregrin were serving their punishments, Bilbo had since settled himself on the stage, and nearly all present were calling for him to make a speech. Sam and Frodo clapped and called, as well, now having an excuse not to look at each other.

Bilbo’s chipper mood seemed to brighten the entire square.

“My dear Bagginses and Boffins!” he cried. This earned quite a few cheers from the respective clans.

“Tooks and Brandybucks!” he continued.

More cheers.

“Grubbs!” Cheering. “Chubbs!” Cheering.

“Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles!” Cheers and applause resounded after each one.

“And Proudfoots!”

“Proudfeet!” one of the said kinsfolk amended.

This earned some laughter, lowly, Frodo and Sam included. Bilbo just waved him off, and continued, slurring a couple of words.

“Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday!”

“Happy Birthday!” the crowd sang out even more audibly than before.

Bilbo gave them a half-smile, then softened his expression a bit. “Alas,” he said, “eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable Hobbits!”

Yet again, the crowd cheered.

Bilbo continued his monologue, seemingly ignoring this. “I don’t know half of you as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you as well as you deserve!”

This confused several people, including Frodo, who looked at Bilbo strangely. Not many knew how to take his last statement, mainly because most didn’t even know what it meant.

On the sidelines, Gandalf watched Bilbo closely. The old rascal was up to something, that’s for sure. When he’d said ‘a night to remember’ he knew by the glint in his eye that Bilbo had meant it.

Bilbo slowly began to finger his vest pocket. “I, uh...” he started, but paused for a moment. His lips moved, as though he were murmuring to himself. He slipped something out of his pocket.

“I regret to announce that this is the end!” he called out, eyeing a few individuals in the crowd, his eyes searching out for one person, specifically.

“I am going now...I bid you all a very fond farewell!”

His eyes found Frodo and Sam, standing next to each other, not too far from the back. Bilbo could have sworn he felt tears burning his eyes at the thought that he’d never see them again. He silently wished them well, and then spoke again.

“Goodbye.”

He slipped the ring on his finger, and was suddenly gone from all sight.

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I told you it'd be real soon! Expect another one soon, too!