now far ahead, the road has gone

[uluithiad]

Who: Sam Gamgee (his_gardner) and Frodo Baggins (wheeloffire)
What: Liangyu's Request, talking, apple-eating.
When: Whenever Liangyu's Request actually takes place.
Where: Somewhere in Tinwick.
Rating: E for everyone or whatever.

Never would Sam have expected that speaking to Frodo would not come naturally.

It had never been a difficult thing in the past. Words came easily to Sam around Frodo, and they had since he'd been a young Hobbit. The Baggins were a constant presence in Sam's young life. Even as a child, Bag End had always been a place of welcome and familiarity.

There's a distinct emptiness to knowing that's gone here, as there always has been. He walks along the streets of Goldvale, bearing the sigil of the Scarlett Dragons across his chest on a tunic with a sword and some small satchels belted to his waist. He's also wearing leather bracers; subtlely jewelled and tied to his forearms, as given to him by his chosen guild. He's thankfully been cleaned and fed since his arrival in the city, though precious few of his questions seem to have real answers. This isn't a place of any real sense, and Sam knows this on some level, but the knowledge hardly comforts him. He's roosted and settling, but only out of obligation. It hardly seems as though any of them are going anywhere.

At his side is Frodo. Or, perhaps, someone Sam recognizes as Frodo. It doesn't take much to see that he's different. Cleaner, healthier and slightly less troubled. In any other situation, Sam would have rejoiced and thanked anything that would listen for this change in his master's demeanor. He hardly thinks he would have questioned the sudden change for the good fortune of it. But he still comes to Sam too changed for his own comfort, as though something pulled the most painful moments of their quest straight from Frodo and left him for a more peaceful time. The presence of Frodo and a younger Bilbo was the most troubling mystery to reach him yet, and the subject of many pensive hours passed in the safety of his bunk. There are many things that he can't be sure of, simply by the nature of this place, but not Frodo. He never wanted to be unsure of Frodo.

Barely has he spoken to his master as they walk, looking for somewhere quiet to rest. Even accompanying him this far had taken some consideration, after learning more of Frodo's apparent lack of memory. But he accepted his request, because most unsettling of all, he knows that this is, indeed, Frodo Baggins. He knows that it can't be anyone else, just as the Hobbit claiming to be Bilbo isn't lying. He wouldn't deny Frodo protection of a passable calibre after seeing some of the ruffians who have taken up residency in Nickelhollow.

And so he leaves Steelarm, having learned a bit and with heavier pockets, to Tinwick with his master. He remains focused and cordial as he can, and he doesn't speak to Frodo unless he's spoken to first.

Upon reaching the quiet, pensive district of Tinwick, Sam finds a tree by a fairly sizable pond and shrugs out of his pack, taking a seat against the trunk. Wordlessly, Sam opens the pack and retrieves a yellow-skinned apple, and holds it out to Frodo.

Comments

[wheeloffire]

He notices that Samwise is uncomfortable with him.

...Which, very truthfully, stings quite a bit. While he could understand where and why Sam would be alarmed, he never thought that such an awkwardness would stick between them. The other hobbit seems very stiff and cautious with him, never talking unless he's addressed, and keeping a fair distance between them. Having such a brick wall thrust between them is quite bothersome, but never would he admit it. He knows that Samwise is disturbed, and he has every reason to be.

Frodo's disturbed himself, very honestly. There was very little relief in knowing that he and Sam had made it as far as Mordor- judging by Sam's condition when he first came, they were standing on their last legs. They have to have made new memories along the way, but were they good? Bad?

Question would start popping up into Frodo's head, distracting him from his new works as a Scholar. But there was always one that stuck out of his head the most: When would it end?

The Ring was such a weight...he would never say it to anyone, but he often wondered about the end. Whether it be from him throwing the Ring into the fiery lava below, or an end to his own life.

His thoughts returned to the present as Sam made his way to a tree, and he followed along, as always. They both sat in the cool shade...and wordlessly, he is handed an apple.

Frodo offers Samwise the best, most unbothered smile he could manage. "Thank you, Sam."

[uluithiad]

Sam can't say he's happy about the suspicion, either, but it's something he can't help but feel. The natural security that he's always felt around Frodo is, to say the least, crippled, if not gone entirely. As much as he'd like to, he can't manage to think his way into optimism regarding Frodo's lack of memory; there's no words he knows that can excuse the loss of something so impacting to himself, and though he values his master and feels loyal and obliged to him, Samwise can't rest for it.

He nods a little when Frodo takes the apple, but says nothing else, pulling his own from his bag and taking a crisp bite. He remains stiff in his seat and keeps his focus on the clear waters at their side. The surface ripples with small, skating insects and fish every now and again. Sam watches, frowns with thought, and chews.

[wheeloffire]

This silence is painful. Quite literally, in fact.

Frodo could feel it- an ache inside at Sam's behavior. While he could certainly understand why, to some extent, it still stung him all the same. How could he possibly convince his friend that he was indeed Frodo, though from a different 'time' in Middle-earth? What was making him doubt him so much, and why? Could he possibly do anything to fix things between them...?

From Sam's behavior now, it seemed rather unlikely. Even during a squabble here and there, Samwise never acted this way towards him. Never...

So he sat there for quite some time, looking to his feet. It took quite a bit of courage for him to say anything else. "...Are you upset with me, Samwise?"

[uluithiad]

Largely, Sam's distraction from the stinging that his lack of trust in Frodo causes is thinking. Trying to construct excuses when he has none. He can't bring himself to trust many of the other arrivals in Goldvale at all, comprised either of unfamiliar strangers or people he had long known dead. Aragorn was the only person who hadn't yet confused him, and Sam had the distinct feeling that that was only because he hadn't really compared their respective passages of time. Rarely does he find himself leaving the safety of his large bunk to do much else aside from practicing, eating and washing.

So Frodo's question catches him slightly off-guard. He doesn't find himself entirely sure how to answer - largely because he isn't sure how he thinks of the situation. Doubtless he is upset, but he isn't sure he can say he's upset with Frodo... nor does he want to find cause to. He looks to Frodo, face stern for just a second.

With a firm exhale, his expression softens.

"... not upset." He shifted quietly, awkwardly, as he looked to the apple in his hand. "Not at you, leastwise."

[wheeloffire]

As much as Frodo wanted to believe that, a small part of him could not.

Not that he could hardly blame Samwise, if he were to sit and think about it. Sam had every reason to be a little suspicious: they were living in a new land with new people, some from completely bizarre places, others were familiar faces. And some of those faces were hardly familiar at all.

Including his.

And Sam's in a way. Frodo wouldn't have been able to believe Sam came from the very insides of Mordor, if it wasn't for how poor in health he looked. It looked like the poor dear had barely been able to keep his head up, let alone try and sort out where he was and how.

...If Sam had been that tired, and that poor, and that hurt...how was himself?

That wasn't something he could focus on. They had some errands to run, and they had to see it through. "As you say, Samwise."

Another pause. "...May I ask whom, maybe?"

[uluithiad]

Whether it could be helped or not, Sam hardly liked holding this suspicion with him. He wanted to trust in Frodo, and simply to believe him, but the more thought he afforded it, the less and less he found himself able to trust Frodo, his place here or the city at all. He wondered on himself; on what this place meant to him, on his being here. He wondered on Kili and Bilbo and Thorin, and he wondered on Gandalf. Sam had no idea how any of them came to be in this place, nor why they had been brought here as a collective. He didn't know why some were not as he remembered - most specifically, dead or a great deal more aged then they appeared here - and why none acknowledged this discrepancy but him.

He wondered on much, but none of these things hurt him quite as much as the distrust he held for Frodo.

He looks briefly at his master when he speaks. His eyes quickly fall, but his expression remains just as stony as it had been.

"Whatever it is that brung us all here without no word of it, sir."

[wheeloffire]

Frodo could certainly understand Sam's distaste.

Both of them were on a very important quest, and whatever had brought them here had yanked them out at one of the most vital moments of them all...especially in Sam's case, or so it seemed. It was very inconvenient, and he very much so wanted to return home, and he had no doubt in his mind that Samwise thought the same.

If anything, even more so.

"Of course. Understandable, yes...very understandable indeed..."

Samwise didn't lie- Frodo knew that well. And if he were to have a problem, he would tell Frodo if there was one. Perhaps, he was being a little too intimidated by this Sam. "I must beg your pardon. For I believed that you were unhappy with me."

[uluithiad]

He looked back out to the water when it seemed done - he had little else to say, and Frodo seemed satisfied with his answer.

If nothing else, Goldvale was a green and vibrant place. He enjoyed the city for its dreamlike beauty; but at times, this only seemed to lend credit to his misgivings. No place he knew had potential for this sort of beauty; this vibrant, colourful place of green things and golden sun-light held such a natural draw to Sam. He hadn't seen its like since he'd left the Shire, and while he found it soothing and welcoming, it made him suspicious. Its appeal to Sam seemed unreal and strange; it was homey and familiar enough to be welcoming, but new and exotic enough to keep his interest. It only fueled his more unwelcome suspicions of the nature of this place, and of his purpose in being here.

He looked back when Frodo apologized. "No harm." He replied calmly, "No harm and no trouble neither, sir."

[wheeloffire]

Frodo could understand Sam's suspicion, if he knew.

But...there was something about it all that was more of a relief than not. While this new world was very suspicious, it also put Frodo's busy mind to rest. It was like a home away from home- ...home. A place where odd little things told him he would never see again during his last living days upon this very earth.

Yet, he was here. It was nothing like the Shire, absolutely not, but it was so very much like it!

The trees were green, the air was clear and pure. The sky was always a very pretty blue, and Frodo found himself busying himself with studies and books and research. Those too were very different from what he was accustomed with, but it reminded him of the days where he and Bilbo would study the languages of the Elves, and that helped to settle him a bit.

Perhaps, the Ring could no longer poison him here.

"Shall we ever return, Sam?" It was a question that very much came out of nowhere, but Frodo found himself oddly curious.