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Frodo yawned loudly before deciding it was time to finally get out of bed. The prior had been long – hobbits normally didn’t need an excuse to bring out the drinks, but the night before had been too much even for him. As he did every morning, he took a look the mirror, his eyes immediately going the only scar which remained in his body after his journey to destroy the One Ring.
It will never disappear, as Gandalf has said. Sauron was gone, and yet, his body would forever be marked by what his subordinates did to him. He had considered Arwen’s offer to leave for Valinor in her stead – Gandalf said that might finally heal the scar. Frodo considered it thoroughly. Leaving The Shire, the home he had yearned to return to during his hard journey. Leaving Sam behind.
Something inside Frodo’s chest tightened in the worst of ways the first time the thought of leaving without Sam came to his mind. His beloved friend, his companion. It was much more than that to Frodo by then, but it was something he didn’t have the courage to voice yet. Besides, what was the point of confessing? Sam was in love with someone else, that wasn’t news for Frodo.
When Arwen made him the offer to leave for Valinor in her stead, Frodo decided it was better for Sam to stay in the dark about that, at least until he made his choice. And yet, a year went by since the ship which could have included him left for Valinor and Frodo still hadn’t told him. He kept thinking he had already hurt him enough, even if he was under the Ring’s influence.
And yet, Sam was among his main reasons for staying in Middle-earth. Gandalf told him that the scar wouldn’t cease hurting, but could become bearable with time. Galadriel told the hobbit he may ask for Elven medicine to deal with the pain for the rest of his days if that was his wish. Arwen herself provided him with enough of it for a few years when he decided to stay in The Shire.
The medicine seemed to work, there were days in which Frodo didn’t notice the scar was there. Even if it was going to remain carved into his skin for the rest of his days, being home didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Frodo cried when he saw Gandalf and Bilbo go, waving him goodbye as his uncle said goodbye with Gandalf, Galadriel and Celeborn. He missed them every day.
After Aragorn’s coronation, Frodo knew that what awaited for him in The Shire, apart from a much deserved recovery, was to see the man he loved declare his love for someone else. Get married, probably have a couple of kids as well, like many couples did. Except Sam never confessed to Rosie, and there was never a wedding or children. And Frodo didn’t get his heart broken.
In fact, Sam’s interest in Rosie seemed non-existent after the four hobbits came back from their journey. Frodo assumed all of them needed time to process what happened, but years went by and Sam never made a move on the women he fancied. Or al least used to fancy. Though he never dared to ask why, perhaps out of fear of hearing Sam still planned to confess to her.
The first year of the Fourth Age began after the departure of Gandalf, Bilbo, Galadriel and Celeborn from Middle-earth to Valinor. Frodo shed a few tears when he hugged Bilbo and Gandalf for the last time. By his side, Merry and Pippin dried their tears with their sleeves and Sam silently placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, allowing his own tears to freely roll down his cheeks.
A couple of months later, Frodo was spending his morning as usual when someone knocked on the door. “Come in!”
A seemingly excited Sam pushed the door open. “Have you checked your mail today?”
“I don’t think so,” Frodo tried to remember. “Why?”
“I got a letter from Gondor and I assume Merry, Pippin and you got one as well,” Sam explained. “From Aragorn,” referring to him as king Aragorn was odd, so they didn’t while he wasn’t present. “Queen Arwen gave birth to their first child as we were invited to the celebration in the baby’s honour or something like that, in three weeks.”
Frodo’s eyes went wide open. “Has it been nine months already?”
“A year, Frodo,” Sam reminded him. Getting rid of the habit of calling him mister Frodo had taken him months, but Frodo insisted that Sam called him by just his name. “Elven pregnancies last twelve months, not nine.”
“Right,” Frodo took a dee breath. “Does the letter say if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“They had a little boy, prince Eldarion” Sam’s lips curved into a smile. “I really want to go.”
Frodo understood Sam’s silent question immediately. “Of course I’ll go with you,” he assured with a smile. “And I’m sure Merry and Pippin won’t think about it twice.”
“It is a chance to see the other members of the Fellowship again,” Frodo’s tone turned melancholic. “I miss them, it truly is a pity Gandalf isn’t here.”
“And that lady Galadriel and lord Celeborn won’t be able to meet their great-grandson,” Sam’s tone lowered. “Who do you think the boy will look like more? Aragorn or lady Arwen?”
Sam’s expression alone softened Frodo’s heart. He was really good with children, Frodo expected he would have one or two whenever he got with Rosie or adopting one and raising them himself if his romantic pursuits ended up differently, similar to what Bilbo had done with Frodo. He could already envision Sam with Aragorn and Arwen’s son, holding and playing with him.
“I’m sure he’s a cute kid regardless of who he looks like, both of them are good-looking,” Frodo shrugged. “We should make haste before Legolas or Gimli try to claim the title of the baby’s favourite uncles.”
Sam scoffed. “I would love to see Gimli trying to take care of a child.”
“Bet we will get to see that very soon if–” Frodo then whined a bit, his hand going to the wound in his shoulder. “It is about time I take my medicine,” he took a moment before moving in his room’s direction. “Elves are life-savers in the most literal way possible.”
“Allow me to help you,” Sam walked behind him.
“You won’t listen if I tell you that you don’t have to, right?” Frodo smiled for himself as he waked towards his room, followed by Sam.
“I will listen,” Sam’s lips curved into a small grin. “Though I cannot promise I will obey.”
Placing the small bottle of medicine on his night stand, Frodo proceeded to take his shirt off, throwing it to his bed and looking down at his scar. He had already gotten used to see it, but he could tell Sam seemed troubles just by looking at it. At the reminder of what he had to go through while taking the One Ring to Mordor. That heavy burden which almost took his life.
“Wait,” Sam grabbed Frodo’s wrist in a gentle manner before he could grab the medicine. “Let me.”
The question was there, hanging on Frodo’s lips. Why? Still, the hobbit swallowed it down and simply gave him a nod. “Go ahead.”
In the years they have by each other’s side after the One Ring was destroyed, Frodo had gotten used to Sam wanting to heal his wounds. He insisted so incessantly sometimes that Frodo simply couldn’t refuse his help. His reasons to say no consisted on wanting Sam to heal as well and not wanting to feed his own feelings for him even more – and that didn’t seem to be working.
With the ointment in his hand, Sam gently began rubbing the wound on Frodo’s chest. “Does it hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Frodo cleared his throat. “Do you think I should ask lady Arwen for more? I’ve got plenty, but just in case.”
Frodo knew he should bring up Valinor. The topic could come up in one way or another if they visited Aragorn and Arwen, giving the queen allowed Frodo to take her place in that ship. He knew Sam wouldn’t be angry at him for not saying it before but heartbroken about having to find out from other people instead of from Frodo himself. And Frodo couldn’t do that to him.
“I would, just in case,” Sam keep focused on his task. “Does this hurt?”
“No,” Frodo shook his head. Even if it was for healing purposes, Sam’s gentle hands on his skin always made him feel a certain type of way. Warmer, fuzzier, nervous in some way.
“Why is your body so tense, then?” Sam’s eyes met Frodo’s. “You can tell me if I’m not doing this correctly or–”
“No, Sam,” Frodo insisted. “You’re doing if perfectly, let us just get over with this and I’ll tell you what has me like this. You have done nothing wrong, so stop thinking that.”
Without a word, Sam kept treating the wound until it was fully covered in ointment. They had to wait a little before putting his shirt back on, so Sam took a chair and placed it in front of Frodo’s bed, where the other hobbit sat, still tense. They waited a couple of minutes until the ointment was dry enough before Sam helping him put a new, clean bandage on the wound again.
“Do you need the spider’s sting treated as well?” Sam asked before sitting back on the chair. When Frodo shook his head, he spoke again. “Well, I’m listening.”
“I almost left for Valinor with my uncle and the others,” Frodo blurted out.
Sam blinked. “What?”
“Exactly what you’ve heard,” Frodo explained. “Lady Arwen was the one who offered me her place on that ship, but in the end… I declined. I couldn’t leave The Shire, the home we fought so hard to go back to. I couldn’t just,” he hesitated. “I couldn’t leave you.”
Sam tried to formulate multiple words, but none of them came out. “Was it worth it?” Sam finally asked. It was Frodo’s time to blink. “Staying despite never completely healing, was it worth it?”
“Of course it was,” Frodo assured. “I love it here, I love being able to see Middle-earth healing after we destroyed the Ring and being able to see our friends happily living their lives. That includes you, Sam,” he added, trying to hide his scarred heart. “Confess to Rosie, be happy with–”
“I don’t want to be with Rosie,” Sam interrupted, unable to meet Frodo’s gaze. “I did at some point, but not anymore.”
Frodo’s heart began racing then. The answer still may have nothing to do with him, but he still couldn’t help but ask. “Why not?”
“Feelings can change,” Sam shrugged a little.
For someone who usually quite enjoyed explaining things, Sam was unusually quiet. “Can you elaborate?”
“I want to be with someone else now,” Sam’s voice was low and unsure. “That’s all there is to it.”
Frodo swallowed, almost not believing it was happening. “And why haven’t you told that someone else yet?”
Sam still avoided Frodo’s gaze. “Because they still have a lot of healing to do and I don’t want to be a burden to him.”
“A burden?!” Frodo stood up so quickly the wound began to sting and he had to immediately sit back with a hiss.
“Careful!” Sam stood up, placing one hand on Frodo’s unharmed shoulder and the other one cupping his face. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Frodo squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again, looking at up Sam. “After everything I put you through during our way to Mordor and in there as well, I can assure that the one who has been a burden to the other is not you.”
“Don’t say that,” Sam’s thumb gently stroked Frodo’s cheeks. “You were under the Ring’s influence, I don’t hold any of what you said to me against you.”
“I know,” Frodo began to smile. “You’re good and kind, Sam. Perhaps that’s one of the many reasons why I feel in love with you.”
Words seemed to fail Sam again, so he tried with something else. “Frodo, can I–?”
“Yes,” Frodo kept eye contact while responding, placing one of his hands on the one Sam was cupping his face with.
The kiss came swiftly. Sam moved his other hand to Frodo’s face, taking the other hobbit’s face in both of his hands as he leant down to meet his lips. Frodo’s other hand moved along Sam’s hair, stroking his blond locks and keeping their faces close as long as that kiss lasted. Then another one followed. Then another. Then another. All not too long nor too short, but all of them sweet.
“I have been a fool for not bringing this up earlier,” Frodo said as his lips curved into a relieved smile.
“You thought I was in love with someone else, I can’t blame you,” Sam did the same as Frodo, moving a hand to his brunette curls. He had been wondering how playing with his hair would be.
Frodo nodded silently. “So, are we still going for the title of prince Eldarion’s favourite uncles? As a formal couple, now we can formally compete with Legolas and Gimli.”
Sam gently hugged Frodo against his chest, kissing his hair, never happier. “They don’t stand a chance against us.”