I felt homicidal when I wrote this part...but I swear that the next part is better! Sam-fans, do not despair...there is always hope... –ORS
Disclaimer (which I always forget): I own exactly one character in this whole chapter, and that's Londë...I don't own the word, however, nor any other characters in the story.
On a warm spring morning in Valinor, a figure sat silently on a rock overlooking the sea. Its size suggested a hobbit, but its face, pale and fair, suggested an elf. His eyes, an unusually clear blue, stared vacantly at the restless seas; his lips were pressed tightly together.
"Still here, little master?"
The hobbit smiled faintly, but did not turn.
"Haldir, my friend, you know better than to ask that."
A golden-haired elf joined the first figure on the rock.
"He may not come, Frodo. Mortals are only mortals."
A puff of sea air rolled over them. Frodo's dark curls stirred, but it was easy to see that the tears in his eyes were from more than the salt air.
"Mithrandir is worried about you, and so is Galadriel."
"I know," said Frodo again. Haldir blinked in surprise.
"All right, Frodo, what is it? You'll let everyone worry themselves to death while you wait for a hobbit that might never come?"
Frodo shifted his empty gaze to the curious elf.
"Because...I can't... He gently brushed a tear from his cheek. "...Can't be...alone..."
"No," said Frodo forcefully; the elf jumped. "...No, Haldir," the hobbit continued, much more gently. "You could never understand, my friend. You elves are happy here because you came from Valinor, but I cannot find rest just yet. One thing remains... My happiness lies in him, Haldir. I will wait."
He stared broodingly out to sea.
"It's strange, but...I sometimes feel that he is already with me." With a futile swipe at his multiplying tears, he added, "He's...a part of me, Haldir. I...I can feel his presence, but it just hurts more."
"Hurts!" exclaimed Haldir incredulously. "Here?!"
"Yes." Frodo clenched his fist despairingly. "I want to be with him. I need to be with him. I need him. It's an ache in my heart – this longing for him."
The elf looked rather puzzled.
"Yes." He allowed a few more tears to escape. "I love him, Haldir. The years have not dimmed my love, but strengthened it."
Haldir had just began to reply when a clear call split the air.
"The ship! The Alqua has returned!"
Hope flashed in Frodo's face as he leapt up.
"Easy, little one!" cautioned Haldir. "What if he isn't on the ship?"
"What if he is?" was the only reply as the hobbit sprinted down the path toward the harbor.
The elves unloading the ship paused in their work to see the cause of this abrupt disturbance.
It was, of course, Frodo Baggins, hurtling toward them at Mach 10. He made a beeline for the elf in charge, Londë.
Once he had reached the dock, he panted, "He's here, isn't he? Have you brought him at last?" An aura of hope surrounded him; he positively glowed.
Londë smiled enigmatically. Frodo looked wildly around, searching for the missing piece of his soul.
"Sam! Samwise Gamgee! It's Frodo calling – where are you?"
When the hobbit was not looking, Londë signaled to another elf, who had been crouching behind a stack of crates. She came out of her hiding place, cradling a small, limp form in her arms.
"Peace, Frodo son of Drogo," ordered Londë. "The one whom you seek did set sail with us."
"Then where is he?" Frodo clasped his hands pleadingly. "Oh, Londë, please tell me!"
"Patience!" The elf looked solemnly at him. "Three days into our journey, he took ill – seriously ill. We had not the skill to heal him while at sea."
"Ill? ...You couldn't heal him?" Sudden fear gripped his heart. "Is he...?"
"He is not dead."
The elf who had been hidden stepped forward. Frodo gasped as Londë said sadly:
"He is dying."
...a blur of color
too fuzzy to see
a voice he knew...
"Sam? Oh, Sam, dear Sam, can you hear me?"
too far away
...too far away
he could not respond
"Sam, Samwise, can you hear me?"
...yes, but he was too far away
where was Frodo...?
"Oh, Sam, please wake up! You can't die – not when we're together at last!"
...his eyes were clearing
Frodo looked panicked
was he truly dying...?
"Sam, my beloved Sam, please!"
...a drop fell on his forehead
it was hot, very hot
then a kiss in the same spot...
"You can't die, Sam – I couldn't bear it!"
...his master was weeping over him
he must be dying...
"Oh, Sam, dearest, at least speak to me, one last time!"
...speak to him?
"Sam! Oh, my dear beloved Sam!"
...another hot kiss upon his forehead
everything was in watercolor
was he weeping, too...?
"For what, Sam?"
"No! You can't die, Sam! You can't!"
"I'm sorry, master..."
"Sam, listen to me. We're taking you to Elrond – he'll know what to do. Don't die, love, please don't! Elrond can heal you, but you have to stay alive until we reach him."
...darkness was falling
Frodo was dimming, fading...
"It's not use...my poor master...I can't help it... everything's going dark, Mr. Frodo."
"Oh, no, Sam!"
...and hand was stroking his forehead
it was cool
it felt wonderful...
"I had...always hoped...to die in your arms..."
...a soft caress
so very gentle
"Sam...I can't live without you...I can't lose you just when I have you again!"
"Oh, master...I'm so very sorry..."
...everything was gray
then darker gray...
"...I love you."
Rest in peace, Samwise son of Hamfast...until the next chapter, at least. Nobody kill me.