Disclaimer: I owe nothing. Not Rosie, not Sam, not Frodo or anything else of LOTR. It all belongs to J.J.R. Tolkien.

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a Sam/Rosie short story. I fear it is nothing compared to the other great Sam/Rosie stories I've read and reviewed though. Oh, well. They need to put a character choice for Rosie! Reviews are welcome.


Dancing, But Not Dancing

I sigh inwardly, even though I have a smile on my face, as I dance by myself. I have been dancing for so many songs that I've lost count. I must have danced with all of the young lads here tonight. Except Samwise.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He sits at a table near the edge of the dance floor, drinking ale and watching the dancing. He has not danced all night.

I see him glance over his shoulder and scan the dancers; his gaze lands on me and our eyes meet for the briefest second. My heart starts pounding. I give him a friendly smile, but he only turns away quickly. My heart, which has been dancing for so short a time, now sinks just as quickly as I dance away from him.

I have known Sam for a long time, for he is good friends with my brothers. He has been almost like another brother to me. He would treat me like a sister and call me his "little rose."

For the last two years, though, I have come to care deeply for him. But I also act very childish around him sometimes. When I see him or speak to him, I feel so nervous and my heart pounds so loudly I'm afraid he can hear it. But he has seen me only as a little sister and always will.

I break out of my daydream and half-heartedly accept a dance with Frodo. I glance longingly at Sam as we whirl by. He is staring blankly into his mug. A tiny sigh escapes from my lips. I dance, but my heart does not.